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Quiet Sunday mornings were just made for skulking, Sirius thought as he let himself into the Potters' kitchen. The sun was bright and turned everything even blurrier than the hangover did, and he made his way to the fridge by memory. He shut his watering eyes as he felt around inside for something edible.
Apple, apple, jar of olives, something squishy, dish of baking soda -- aha. Cold pizza.
Sirius stuffed a piece between his teeth and continued rummaging in search of juice. He wanted a shower to wash off the scent of the bloke he'd pulled last night -- the bloke who had, disconcertingly, still been in his bed this morning -- but too much noise would ruin his skulking. A stealthy breakfast of pilfered leftovers would have to do until it was safe to return to his flat.
Orange juice in hand and pizza in teeth, Sirius shut the fridge with a hip and promptly dropped the carton. Juice splattered over his shoes.
James and Harry were sitting at the small breakfast table, silent, arms folded in identical poses that meant identical trouble.
Crap. Though he'd been expecting this day for months, the bottom dropped out of Sirius's stomach.
"Late night," James said casually. Too casually.
"Oh, you know Sirius, Dad," Harry said in the exact same tone. "Can't settle down, new bloke every weekend. Bit of a tramp, really."
Well, that was uncalled for. Or at least saying it aloud was.
"Busy fellow, that Sirius," James said, nodding. "Hardly has any time for his lover."
Crap, crap, crap.
"Funny thing is," Harry said, "when I told you about me and Sirius, hoping you'd have some advice on how to deal with his pathological fear of commitment, you seemed to think you were his lover."
"Imagine that. Can't think where I'd get such a silly idea." James laughed, a fake girlish titter, and it occurred to Sirius that he ought to either start defending himself or make a run for it.
The door was handier than an excuse, so Sirius dropped his pizza and bolted. He made it two feet before he struck an invisible barrier and landed on his arse on the scuffed white linoleum. Juice seeped into the seat of his trousers.
James stood up. "I've put up with the trash you pull at the pubs, Padfoot, because it made you happy. I've put up with not knowing where you are or whom you're with, and I even, on one unfortunately memorable occasion, put up with a venereal disease. But seducing my own son--"
"Er," Harry said, and James rounded on him.
"You seduced him?"
"You might have told me you were together," Harry said sulkily. "You've only been at it, what, ten years?"
"We didn't tell you because your delightful godfather thought you wouldn't understand the concept of an open relationship," James said, and somehow it was Sirius's fault again.
"Oh, I understand open relationships," Harry said, bitter now. Sirius, dismayed, wondered how long Harry had resented the situation. He'd seemed to accept that Sirius, while terrifically loyal to his friends, simply could not approach sex with any kind of commitment. He'd even asked Sirius about his other lovers.
Well, grilled him about them, really. And followed him sometimes. And sent Richard-from-Brighton that howler after Sirius had seen him twice in one week.
"I understand only seeing Sirius when he hasn't got plans with someone else," Harry went on, "and not kissing him in public because I might scare away the twink he thinks he can pull."
"Having plans broken because something better came along," James put in.
"Fire-calling over and some stranger answers."
"Kissing him and tasting someone else."
Definitely a hint of resentment. Sirius looked at the exit again. Harry had a vile temper and James knew every one of Sirius's weak spots. Maybe if he just edged toward--
"You know," said James, casually catching Sirius's shirt collar as he stood up, "maybe it's our fault."
"How so?" asked Harry.
"Sirius has always had the temperament of a dog, but when a dog misbehaves, it's because he hasn't been trained properly. We've been lenient with him."
Crap! Sirius reached for his wand, and two disarming spells slammed him into the fridge door. Dazed, Sirius blinked at them. He couldn't tell if he was seeing double; they were both wearing white shirts and only their eye colour and few lines on James's face distinguished them otherwise.
"I think we need to be firm with him, Harry," James said as he pocketed Sirius's wand. "Padfoot, drop your trousers and put your hands on the table."
Sirius opened his mouth, and then thought better of it. He looked from one stern Potter face to the other and could detect not an ounce of compromise. He had the sudden sinking feeling that if he didn't fix this... something bad would happen. They might never speak to him again.
Stomach squirming, Sirius unbuckled his belt. He undid his trousers and dropped them, and his Y-fronts for good measure.
"Do you think we should clean him?" Harry asked, wrinkling his nose.
It was only a blow job, Sirius thought, but he kept his mouth closed. He was in enough trouble. He placed his hands on the table as commanded. He could be good, if that was what James and Harry wanted.
The cleaning spell struck him in a stinging burst, making him yelp. James slapped his arse, and Sirius bit his lip. The situation had certain possibilities he might like to explore if he weren't so worried James or Harry or both would walk away at the end.
He couldn't lose them. They were his family.
"What do we have for, er, lubricant?"
Well. That sounded promising.
"Sirius is the expert in kitchen sex, Harry," James said, and Sirius squirmed. He should never have shared that anecdote about the salad dressing. "Though I reckon butter will do."
Harry pulled the dish over and dipped his fingers in, testing the consistency. Out of all the condiments Sirius had used as lube over his twenty-seven years of sexual activeness, butter scored highest in function and wouldn't require an embarrassing trip to St Mungo's afterwards. He didn't protest when Harry pushed a finger in to test the resistance.
"Not bad," Harry said, and promptly upped the count to three fingers. Sirius groaned and pressed his face to the cool table, and was gratified when Harry placed a gentle hand on the small of his back.
It was all the respite Sirius got before James caught his hair and forced his head back. He'd got his trousers undone without Sirius noticing and his cock, thick and familiar, bobbed inches from Sirius's nose.
"You've been a bad dog, Padfoot."
Sirius hesitated. His cock swelled, distinctly interested, and yet... He'd hooked up with the Weasley twins once, when Harry had still been in school and just starting to cast Sirius those sultry jailbait glances that wordlessly promised him Azkaban would be worth it. He'd run out in the middle, frightened out of his mind, clutching his trousers and swearing off threesomes forever.
But this was James, who had turned to Sirius for comfort after Lily's death, and Harry, whose patient stalking had given Sirius's morals a swift painless mercy killing. Nothing to be frightened of.
Not much, anyway.
Sirius opened his mouth and James slid in just as Harry did, as though they'd timed it. Maybe they had. Maybe they'd been up all night plotting this strange punishment, choreographing their revenge. The idea made his cock twitch against the table. He didn't know which way to move, but Harry took away the choice, slamming his hips hard and driving Sirius onto James's prick.
Oh, sweet Merlin.
Sirius's stomach dropped to his toes, seized by a tingling excitement he hadn't felt in... well, ever. He squirmed, wanting Harry to ride him harder, wanting James to use his mouth and come down his throat. Just thinking about it made his erection throb, trapped between his stomach and the smooth wood of the table.
He barely heard the conversation going on over his head.
"God, look at him."
"Is he like this for you?"
"No, never. I mean, he can get pretty wild, but not like this. He's gagging for it."
"Better reign him in a bit. We don't want him out of control."
The butter knife clattered across the table, and someone cast a transfiguration spell -- one Sirius had taught them, the bloody berks -- and Harry made him lift his hips for the metal ring. It cinched around his cock, smooth and cold, a snug reminder that he wasn't to come until permitted.
It didn't matter. He'd obey, even without the ring. Ridiculous as it was, James's bad dog comment stung.
Harry quickened the pace, and the table creaked beneath the weight with each thrust. Sirius looked up at James, but James was watching Harry with an absurd expression of pride.
With good cause, Sirius thought as Harry stroked his back, his flanks, his shoulders, soothing and encouraging while reminding Sirius of who was in control.
Which certainly wasn't Sirius. He couldn't even control his hips; they'd evolved a will of their own, twisting and jerking in a most counterproductive manner until Harry seized them, thumbs digging into Sirius's arse to hold him open. A low growling stream of obscenities poured over Sirius's back with each panting breath. James, still clutching Sirius by the hair, was doing a poor job of concealing his awe -- impressed or horrified, Sirius couldn't tell.
"Did you teach him that?" James demanded, giving Sirius's hair a fierce tug. Sirius shook his head, and then had to chase James's cock when it popped free of his mouth.
"He likes it when I -- oh, fuck yes -- when I talk dirty," Harry said. "Likes it when I'm loud."
"Huh," James said, holding his cock by the base so Sirius could suck it down again. It pulsed, a hot heavy weight in his mouth. "He's usually the loud one when I'm fucking him."
"Well, you've got him gagged," Harry pointed out, a little breathlessly. His hands clenched on Sirius's hips, and one snaked around to cup his balls. Sirius groaned. He loved Harry's strong hands, the firm delicate grip that could catch a snitch without crushing the wings. James had a lighter, rougher touch.
Sirius squirmed, caught between the two. James stroked his hair, ending each with a tug and a thrust, and Harry's hand wandered up to curl around Sirius's prick. He strained against the trousers trapping his thighs, wanting to spread himself open for Harry, for both of them.
"Get his clothes off," Harry gasped, and James fumbled, dropped his wand, borrowed Harry's.
A mumbled divestio vanished every stitch on Sirius's body, and he surged across the table, thighs spread wide and hands on the edge in a trembling death-grip. He buried his nose in James's musky hair, taking them both deep, wanting more, wanting everything.
A few more thrusts and Harry stiffened behind him, arching into one long tense line, coiling forward again, crying out. Sirius bucked, caught between the slick heat filling him and Harry's hand still jerking his cock with short fast strokes. He needed to come with Harry, needed James pulsing down his throat.
James pulled back, wrenching Sirius off his cock when he wouldn't let go. Sirius whined, and earned a sharp smack on his backside from Harry.
He subsided, shocked, and Harry cleaned himself off with a charm.
Then they traded off.
James slid into him, familiar and comforting, while Harry, new and exciting, teased his cock over Sirius's lips until it stiffened again. Sirius went at it gladly, mouthing the shaft.
"He's so gorgeous like this." Harry sounded wistful, cupping Sirius's face with both hands. Sirius caught Harry's hips, slid his hands around to his firm arse, kneading. He slipped one finger between Harry's cheeks, rubbing dry across his hole until Harry bit his lip, head back, tendons straining.
"Christ," James groaned, and came after only a few short strokes, hips jerking, hands fumbling for the impromptu cock ring. It snapped free, and liquid heat shot down Sirius's spine, curling his toes. Hot come shot over the table.
"Oh, you've no idea," Harry gasped. "The two of you... So fucking..."
He pulled back, squeezing his cock, purple and shiny from Sirius's mouth, and Sirius shut his eyes as thick ribbons of come splashed across his face. Warm slick drops ran down his cheeks and nose, and he licked some from his lips.
He blinked, lashes sticking together, as Harry tipped his chin up.
"You're mine, Sirius. Ours," Harry amended after a quick glance at James. "Do I have to... to pee on you to make you understand?"
Sirius hastily shook his head. Harry had conveyed his hurt and frustration just fine. He unbent, feeling James slip free of his body.
"Then what is it, Padfoot?" James's hand settled on his waist, and he pressed a kiss to Sirius's shoulder. "Why do you need all those others?"
"Am I allowed to speak?" Sirius asked meekly.
"I suppose," Harry said with a lopsided grin. He came around the table and stroked a thumb through the come dotting Sirius's face.
"I'm just... adventurous." Sirius looked from one to the other, both flushed and sweaty and the center of his universe. He suddenly felt silly for running off looking for excitement when he had the best adventure of all waiting for him, wanting him. "Are you still cross with me?"
"Yes," they said together, and Sirius fiddled with the abandoned cock ring.
"What happens now?" he asked, feeling stupid. He'd always been the one who knew. "This wasn't some kind of test to make me choose between you, was it?"
"As if we'd trust you to decide," Harry said. "We'd already agreed to share you. If you'll have us, that is."
"And if you stop trawling the pubs."
"And the clubs."
"And the shops."
"And the library."
"The library?" James asked.
"Best not ask about that one," Harry said. "We've both been banned from all the London branches."
"I don't need details." James rubbed the back of his head and finally looked at Sirius. "I've tried your way, and I just can't do it anymore."
"So we'll compromise," Harry said. "Sirius?"
Sirius looked from one to the other, so alike and so different, and together everything he wanted. "Will someone please kiss me?" he asked plaintively.
They both did, one at each corner of his mouth, looking much relieved. Sirius pulled them close, feeling a loosening of the knot that had been lodged in his stomach since he realized the thing with Harry might just be as protracted as the thing with James.
They were his or he was theirs, and he didn't care that he'd likely never get another word in edgewise.