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Three Tequila

by Victoria P.

[Story Headers]

Remus knew they were in trouble when Hermione challenged them to a game of 'I Never.'

Well, no, that wasn't the problem. The problem was that they changed the rules on him.

The few times they'd played with Harry and his friends, Remus had got remarkably pissed and Sirius had poured him into bed afterward, no harm done. Having spent a few years after James and Lily died up to his ears in alcohol, drugs and sex, Remus never won. He just got very, very drunk and Sirius got very, very jealous.

Sirius was a resourceful, clever man. He'd escaped Azkaban and come back from the dead, two feats unequaled in the annals of wizarding history, as he liked to point out every chance he got (and he always sniggered when he said, "annals," which drove Remus batty). So of course he'd figured out that his lack of experience in certain areas (being locked up for twelve years, a fugitive for two more, and dead for another really put a crimp in one's social life) often resulted in his being sadly sober at the end of the night.

Hermione, who'd spent her prime Hogwarts years actually studying and going to class (two activities Sirius abhorred, but of which Remus heartily approved), was a little behind the boys in some ways. And she was in a snit over being left behind when Ron and Harry went to America with the Chudley Cannons. They'd gone on a promotional tour to play exhibition games against the American Quiddtich teams, and asked Remus and Sirius to keep her entertained while they were away.

The first week, she and Remus had dragged Sirius to various museums and art galleries, libraries and bookshops, until he'd threatened to withhold sex unless he got to choose a few of their activities. Of course Remus gave in. Which meant Quidditch matches, movies, clubs and pubs, including a trip to Knockturn Alley's most infamous underground strip joint. Much to their surprise, Hermione had enjoyed that as much as he and Sirius had.

Remus had chosen the pub tonight -- it was local, low key and comfortable. Certainly not a place he expected to get into any trouble.

Of course, he hadn't cleared that with Hermione and Sirius.

A few moments' whispered conversation while Remus had his back turned, and suddenly there was a whole new set of rules to the game.

Rules that led to Remus sitting idly while Sirius and Hermione did shot after shot of tequila.

And Sirius and Hermione had reached the stage where things would soon spiral out of control.

Even knowing that, Remus chose to go to the jukebox and play his favorite Replacements song, because the wizarding world never had produced much in the way of good rock-and-roll, and you just couldn't beat the Mats. They'd been the soundtrack to his depression in the eighties, and he still had a soft spot for Paul Westerberg. He spent a few minutes picking out other tunes, as well. He had sold most of his record collection in the eighties for rent money, and couldn't afford to replace it until recently. He thought he might look into that soon, now that he had Sirius's fortune at his disposal.

When he returned to the table, Hermione was in Sirius's lap, and Sirius had his hand up the tiny scrap of fabric she called a t-shirt.

"I don't think Ron would approve," Remus said.

Hermione sniffed. "Ron's off with Harry in America. Trying to get the Americans to play more Quidditch. Ha! Ruddy Americans don't like Quidditch. Never have." She wiggled; Sirius closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "You know there will be groupies all over them. And Ron's never known how to give a pretty girl the brush-off."

"Besides, our game isn't done yet," Sirius pointed out, reaching around Hermione and grabbing the bottle of tequila. Hand shaking only a little, he poured out two more shots (Remus hadn't had to take one in a while, and the smell of tequila was starting to make him queasy). "Hermione, love, tells us what you've never done."

Hermione shot a wicked grin at Remus. "I've never had sex with a werewolf."

She licked salt off Sirius's wrist, lifted the shot glass to her lips and, with a toss of her head, downed the tequila. Remus watched the slim line of her throat, and thought she really was an attractive young woman. She sucked on the lemon wedge, and he imagined her mouth wrapped around his--

No. He wasn't going there. He just wasn't. She'd been his student. Hell, she was only as old as Harry, and he'd changed Harry's diapers.

A secret, treacherous voice in his head (it sounded remarkably like Sirius, actually) whispered that he hadn't changed hers, and she wasn't his student now.

"Shut up, Sirius."

Sirius looked offended. "I didn't even say anything yet, Moony."

"Well, you were going to."

"Of course, he was going to," Hermione interrupted. "It's his turn. Though wait, how come you didn't take a drink, Professor?"

It never failed. Hermione always reverted to calling him, "Professor." And now he was imagining her in her school uniform, on her knees between his thighs and--

"Romania, nineteen eighty-nine," he said, cutting off that line of thought. He really hadn't had that much to drink. He oughtn't be thinking of Hermione that way.

Of course, Hermione oughtn't be sticking her tongue down Sirius's throat, either, so...

Absentmindedly, he drank the shot sitting in front of him, closing his eyes against the taste. Nasty stuff, tequila.

"Excuse me," he said, banging the empty shot glass on the table. "That's my--" really, they were too old to be boyfriends, weren't they? And 'lover' was so Jackie Collins -- "Sirius you're mauling there, Ms. Granger."

Hermione giggled, but remained where she was.

"Oh, is that a hint of jealousy from Mr. Moony?" Sirius leaned forward and grabbed his shot glass. "Remus is never jealous," he confided to Hermione in a stage whisper.

Remus shrugged. He knew Sirius wanted him to be jealous, but he also knew Sirius would always come back to him, so it seemed like a lot of wasted effort. And though he would never admit it in public, it was a turn-on to know everyone wanted Sirius, but Sirius wanted him.

"Your turn, Sirius."

"I have never had a threesome," Sirius said, drinking his tequila.

When Hermione didn't join him, he and Remus both turned to stare at her.

"Hermione?" Remus said, his voice low and dangerous. She really was quite attractive, and watching Sirius kiss her had been more arousing than anticipated. And if it wasn't the first time she'd done it-- 'No, can't think like that.'

"Harry, Ron and I sometimes-- well, we do everything together! It's only to be expected."

Remus laughed. Of course. Only Hermione could make having sex with her two best friends sound so matter of fact, something every girl really did, instead of being the province of soft-core pornography.

"No need to get shirty about it," Sirius said. "I guess Harry's a little less of a prude than James was, eh, Remus?"

"James wasn't a prude. He just didn't fancy you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sirius demanded. Remus smirked and raised an eyebrow. "No. No way in hell you and James--"

Remus burst into laughter. "No, of course not. But I had you going there for a moment, didn't I?"

"Very funny." Sirius pouted, and Remus leaned over to suck on his full lower lip, ignoring the stares of the other people in the pub. He could taste salt and tequila and lemon over the familiar tang he associated with Sirius, and he imagined he could taste Hermione lingering on Sirius's tongue, but that was probably just the liquor.

Pulling away reluctantly, he said, "I learned from the best."

Hermione watched both of them, a hungry look in her eyes that made Remus realize his jeans were becoming snug. Why hadn't they gone to a wizarding pub? He'd have worn loose robes and not been worried about showing the world just how turned on he was at the moment.

Of course, if they'd done that, Hermione wouldn't be wearing an indecently short skirt that showed off her long, toned legs, or the tight little t-shirt that revealed just how turned on she was at the moment, which was a sight he wouldn't have wanted to miss. Remus had forgotten the allure of breasts, their weight in his hands, the skin always somehow softer, more luxurious to the touch. 'I guess everything's a trade-off.'

"You're not wearing a bra," he blurted, distracted by the way her taut nipples pressed against the thin fabric, the shadow of her aureoles visible even in the dim light of the pub.

Hermione flushed and Sirius snorted. "It's amazing we even let you out of the house, what with your astounding observational skills. It's only taken you -- what? two hours? -- to notice."




Such an exchange of endearments called for another lengthy kiss. When they broke apart, they were all three breathing rapidly.

"Your turn, Professor," Hermione said, leaning forward, licking her lips.

Really, he wasn't to be blamed for mistaking her meaning. He cupped the back of her head, fingers sliding through hair softer than it appeared, and slid his tongue into her mouth. Tequila and salt and lemon, just like Sirius, but also something else entirely -- sweet and new and his for the taking.

Sirius coughed, and Remus broke the kiss, head spinning.

It was sheer madness, utter idiocy, but when Sirius said, "Your turn in the game," Remus knew what he had to say next.

He lifted the shot glass and, eyes on Hermione's glistening, slightly-parted lips, he said, "I've never slept with one of my students. Or former students."

Hermione didn't even give them time to take the shot. She jumped up, earning another gasp from Sirius, threw some money on the table, and said, "Let's go, then."

Just as Remus had known she would.

"Slow down," Remus said. "You're both too drunk to Apparate. We have to find a Floo."

"You could just do a sobering charm," Hermione replied.

"He could," Sirius said, "but he's afraid you'll back out if you sober up before he gets you home." Remus flushed. "'A hit, a palpable hit!'"

"I didn't know you could quote Shakespeare," Hermione said breathlessly, linking her arms through theirs.

"I'm not completely ignorant, you know."

"Not completely, just mostly," Remus said, patting Hermione's hand. They walked out into the warm night air and he cast the sobering charm for all of them. "Now that we're all ourselves again, we'll see you home, Hermione, and never speak of this again." He ignored Sirius's disappointed pout and looked down at Hermione, trying to convince himself that of course it had been the tequila talking earlier.

Unfortunately, his cock disagreed; she licked her lips and he once again imagined them wrapped around him. He sternly told himself to stop it, and he'd almost succeeded, but he knew he and Sirius would be up all night, working off fantasies the game had inspired.

Her pout was harder to ignore than his presumptuous prick. "So you don't want me?" she asked in a hurt little voice, looking up at him through lowered lashes. And just when had she turned into such a flirt?

"Course he wants you," Sirius interrupted. "He's just having an attack of conscience. By the time we get back to the flat, it'll have passed."

Hermione raised her eyes, which flashed with mischief. "I'll be waiting," she said, disentangling her arm from Remus's and squeezing his cock before Disapparating with a crack.

He sucked in a breath. "Sirius--"

"Remus. She wants to. She's been trying to steal you away from me since she was thirteen."

He ran a hand over his face. Maybe the sobering charm hadn't quite worked, because desire was still humming in his veins, and the thought of Hermione waiting for them, in their bed, was not helping him calm down.

"I was just going to say, she's not a stranger, Sirius. Not some girl we picked up to have a bit of fun with. She's Hermione."

"We've established that. She's Hermione, you're Remus, and I'm horny. Now that we're all accounted for--"

Remus laughed in exasperation. "Sirius, she and Ron--"

"And Harry. Don't forget that. Your pristine Ms. Granger is having it off with both boys. At the same time."

Remus took a deep breath and tried not to remember that. "Okay, then, Ron and Harry --"

"Will be utterly bereft when they discover we've stolen their little vixen from them while they were off consorting with Americans. Serves them right for leaving her behind with us. Harmless old uncles, indeed."

"Still smarts, eh?" Remus asked, grinning. Ron's words apparently rankled Sirius more than even Remus knew.

"We're not old."


"We're... mature. Like fine wine, or good beef."

"You're hopeless."

"And yet you love me anyway," Sirius said, kissing him quickly. "Let's go."

They Apparated back to the flat they shared, Grimmauld Place having been burned to the ground by Sirius once the war ended.

Remus was simultaneously relieved and disappointed when Hermione was nowhere to be seen.

"I guess she got cold feet," he muttered.

"Oh, I doubt that," Sirius replied. "Care to make a wager?"

"I'm in here," she called before Remus could respond. Sirius smirked but said nothing.

He forced himself to walk slowly into the bedroom.

Hermione was sitting at the head of the bed, legs curled up beside her, all creamy skin and taut muscle. She had one hand under her skirt, nestled between her thighs.

"Hermione--" Remus began.

"I had a crush on you in third year, you know, but I thought you were gay," Hermione said. He almost stumbled when Sirius nudged him in the ribs.

"Oh, no. He just likes sex," Sirius said. "He's not too particular about how he gets it."

"You're right, I suppose," Remus replied wryly. "I let you get a leg over, didn't I?"

"Oi! Best thing that ever happened to you, I am." But Sirius smiled as he said it.

"Why is he talking like Yoda?" Hermione asked, brow furrowing adorably.

Sirius looked confused as Remus burst into laughter. "What is she talking about, Moony? What's so funny?"

"Do you remember when Lily took us to the cinema?" he said. "The winter after we left Hogwarts?"

"The Muggle pictures? With the space ships and the gorgeous bloke with the gun, and the dark lord who had asthma?"

"That's the one. Later on, in the next film, there's this little bugger, looked like a house-elf, called Yoda, and his syntax was inverted."

Sirius pushed him down onto the bed in front of Hermione, and then sat beside her. "As much as I'm sure Hermione is turned on by your lecturing, Professor, we have better things to do tonight than discuss twenty-five-year-old movies about house-elves."

Movies that had come out before Hermione was born. Dear God, what were they doing?

Sirius knew him too well, though, knew exactly when and how his attacks of conscience would come (he wanted to come -- and oh, Sirius's facility for bad puns had rubbed off on him years ago; it was inescapable even in his own head), and was kissing Hermione. Who responded enthusiastically, one hand, twining in Sirius's dark hair while the other reached out for Remus, landing on his thigh.

He leaned back, content for the moment to watch, bemused and aroused. She broke away from Sirius, both of them breathing heavily, and smiled that wicked smile.

"I've been a very naughty girl, Professor," she said, shifting forward onto her knees, "and I think you ought to do something about that."

"Yes," Sirius said intently. "You really, really should."

She knelt into him, her hands on his thighs. He noted the soft pink of her nail polish before her face filled his vision, lips parted, seeking his. He kissed her, and again, her sweet flavor combined with Sirius and saltlemontequila sent a shock to his already hard cock. Her tongue slid against his, meeting each thrust with one of her own. He wanted to be inside her, now, all qualms gone in the heat of her mouth.

He growled, hands sliding down her back to cup her arse beneath her skirt, and Sirius laughed.

"Oh," Hermione said, looking thoroughly kissed and a little dazed. "Oh, my."

Sirius leaned back against the headboard, long legs stretched out in front of him, and smirked. "You can see why I keep him around, even though he's such a lot of trouble."

"Yes, I'm the troublemaker," Remus answered wryly, pulling his shirt over his head.

"Kind of you to finally admit it," Sirius said, mirroring his actions and tossing his shirt on the floor. He smirked. "Hermione?"

Her cheeks a becoming pink, she removed her t-shirt, baring small, high breasts, nipples pink and taut. Remus feathered a finger over the swell of one breast, then leaned forward and took her right nipple in his mouth. She arched into him with a moan, quickly cut off by Sirius's kiss.

Remus looked up, taken by the way their hair mingled, black and chestnut, sleek and frizzy. The contrast of Sirius's tanned hands against Hermione's fair skin was beautiful, a moment to be captured and savored later for the sheer elegance of it. His own, paler hands slid over her soft flesh, as he sucked and licked at one breast, then the other before trailing kisses down her belly.

Sirius's hands pushed against the elastic of her skirt, sliding it over her hips as he kissed and nipped at her lips and neck. Remus took it from there, pulling it and her knickers down to reveal the thatch of curly hair at the juncture of her thighs. He dropped the clothing on the floor and returned to lavishing kisses on the soft curve of her belly. She arched and writhed beneath his lips, hands clutching his hair. Sirius was palming her breasts, murmuring endearments and encouragement between kisses. He'd always been a talker, a fact Remus found endlessly amusing and arousing.

Remus slid down the bed, undoing the fly on his jeans with one hand and tracing intricate patterns on Hermione's legs with the other. She whimpered when he moved away. He pushed the jeans and briefs down and toed them off. She rose up on her knees and turned toward Sirius, beginning her own exploration of his tanned, muscular chest, finding his erect nipples through the dark, curly hair and licking at them with her skilled pink tongue.

Remus sat back and watched for a moment, enjoying the sight of her hair trailing over Sirius's body. When she began unbuttoning his trousers, Remus moved over her, pressing kisses to her neck and shoulders, occasionally raising his face to meet Sirius's lips with his own. He licked the delicate curve of her spine, hands settling naturally on her hips, his cock against her arse. He slid a hand around her abdomen and she giggled.

"Ticklish people make great lovers," Sirius said.

"How do you know?" Remus asked, his hand sliding into the damp triangle between Hermione's legs. She moaned and thrust against him, slippery, wet and ready.

"You're ticklish."

"Oh. Yes."

"Daft bastard." Sirius said affectionately, then gasped as Hermione freed his cock from his trousers.

Remus was distracted by that, torn between burying himself in Hermione's wet warmth and leaning over and licking the head of Sirius's cock.

"Sirius," he said hoarsely. Sirius grinned at him, eyes dark with desire.

Hermione took the decision of out his hands, sliding one finger over the slit and then lifting it to her lips. Her tongue darted out to lick at the tip of her finger, and Remus and Sirius groaned in unison.

She bent forward, the bones of her spine a ladder to heaven. She swirled her tongue over the head, then took him in her mouth.

Watching Sirius sliding between her lips made Remus's whole body quiver with lust. Using one knee, he nudged Hermione's legs apart and then pushed slowly into the tight, slick embrace of her body. She thrust back against him and he stopped her movement with a light smack on her arse.

"Wait," he growled. He wanted to watch her suck Sirius off.

She waited, trembling, mouth still moving over Sirius's cock, eyes closed in concentration.

Sirius let his head fall back, fingers twined in Hermione's now-sweaty hair. Remus could tell he was holding back, the muscles in his thighs corded with tension.

Hermione raised her head, huffed in exasperation and tightened her muscles around Remus, who growled again. She was not deterred this time. "Well? Are we done waiting?"

"Hermione, please," Sirius pleaded, guiding her mouth back down to his cock. With a sly smile, she sucked on each of his balls, causing him to buck up off the bed, then licked along the underside of his cock until he whimpered. She took as much of him in her mouth as she could, slowly moving up and down along his length.

Remus began thrusting his hips in the same rhythm. Hermione moaned around Sirius's cock, the vibrations sending a shudder through them all. Sirius tensed again, and came with an unintelligible shout. Hermione swallowed, and Sirius pulled out before she choked.

He brushed the hair off her forehead and pressed a kiss to her lips before settling back against the pillows to watch.

The sight and sound of Sirius coming nearly drove Remus over the edge. His hips jerked and Hermione bucked against him, her fingers gripping Sirius's thighs hard enough to leave marks.

"Professor, please," she moaned, looking back at him over her shoulder.

"Please what?" he asked hoarsely, forcing himself to stop moving.

She tightened her muscles around him. "Harder. Please. I won't break."

Her voice, needy and breathless, sent a thrill through him, and he drove into her, hands clutching the soft flesh of her hips, teeth nipping along her neck and shoulders, sucking at the sensitive spot where they met. She moved with him, strong beneath the delicate faade.

She convulsed, pulling him in deeper, shuddering and crying out as the orgasm rolled through her.

Pleasure radiated along his nerves, centering on his cock, buried deep inside Hermione's trembling body. Hips jerking against her, he came hard, growling low, one hand sliding off her to reach out to Sirius, who took it, twining their fingers.

Hermione collapsed onto Sirius, and Remus on top of her in a sticky, sated heap. He pressed lazy kisses to her hair and shoulders, sighing as Sirius ran his hands over both of them, caressing with gentle fingers.

Hermione was still shaking, and he slid his hand between her legs to find Sirius had had the same idea. They moved down the bed, lips and tongues tracing over her skin, damp with sweat and flushed with pleasure. Together they brought her to climax again, stroking her with fingers and mouths, sharing kisses between them, the sharp, mossy taste of her on their tongues. She arched and writhed, unable to say more than, "Please," or "Yes," small hands twining first in Remus's hair and then Sirius's as they kissed and licked until her hips bucked and she shuddered in pleasure.

They rearranged themselves on the bed, Hermione still between them, and dozed for a while.

Remus woke to the sight of Hermione with her knees drawn up and her legs parted as Sirius moved inside her. He grinned at them, not at all worried by Sirius's enthusiasm for Hermione's unexpected sensuality.

"It's about time you woke up," she said when she noticed him watching.

Remus didn't answer; he leaned in and kissed her breathless before pulling back to slide his lips and hands over the broad expanse of Sirius's back, supple olive skin stretched over muscle and bone, every inch of which he could identify by feel alone. He knelt behind Sirius and grasped his hips. Remus enjoyed the way Sirius trembled when he stroked the cleft of his arse. Sirius was ready in no time, hips bucking into Hermione, who met him thrust for thrust.

Remus found the lube and slicked his cock, aching at the sight of Sirius fucking Hermione, their undulations punctuated by gasps and moans.

"Sirius," he whispered, and Sirius paused, which caused Hermione to growl low, surprising all of them into laughing.

"Remus, please," Sirius said, shifting so Remus could move between his legs, press his cock to Sirius's arse and push in ever-so-slowly. "Yeah," Sirius breathed. "Just like that."

Remus closed his eyes, gave Sirius a moment to adjust before he rolled his hips. Sirius cried out and bucked forward, plunging deep into Hermione. She unfurled her legs, wrapped them around Sirius, feet hooked around Remus's thighs, using him as leverage to thrust up against Sirius.

Remus set their rhythm, driving Sirius deeper into Hermione, who arched to meet him. Remus opened his eyes to watch over Sirius's shoulder as they moved beneath him, breath rasping, Hermione's breasts bouncing. He licked and kissed the curves and hollows of Sirius's spine, writing words with his tongue on the slippery, salty skin -- mine, love, always.

Sirius's arms trembled at holding their combined weight off Hermione, and he moved erratically, thrusting jerkily as he came. He lowered himself carefully to his elbows, pressing kisses to Hermione's eyes and lips. She moved one of her hands between them to circle her clit, the other tangling in his hair.

She moaned, body bowed with tension, and then shuddered. "God, Sirius." Sirius swallowed whatever else she might have said with a kiss, mouth slanting over hers roughly as she shook in his arms.

Remus watched, their combined climaxes pushing him over the edge. He felt the pressure inside spiral to new heights before wave after wave of pleasure crashed through him. He clutched frantically at Sirius, vibrating with the force of his orgasm.

He pulled out and gathered Sirius close, dropping kisses on his neck and shoulders, as always, so amazingly grateful for his return.

Again they slept.

Remus lost track of time, but they spent most of the weekend in bed. When they weren't in bed, they were in the shower or, one memorable time, out on the terrace, scaring the birds and giving the nosy neighbors a show until Sirius remembered to cast an obscuring charm.

Hedwig arrived late Sunday evening, hooting in disapproval, most likely at the way Hermione was on her knees on the living room carpet, Sirius fucking her from behind, Remus's cock in her mouth.

The owl pecked at Remus's fingers and he yelped, silently thanking God that owls did not speak, or he'd end up with worse than damaged fingers when Harry and Ron returned.

Hermione stopped moving and raised her head, frowning at Hedwig. If owls could scowl, Remus thought in amusement, Hedwig would be returning Hermione's irritated look. Hermione took the letter from the owl, and Remus rose to get her a treat. When he came back, Hermione and Sirius were sitting on the sofa, and Hermione had Sirius's shirt on.

"Harry and Ron will be back tomorrow," she said, waving the parchment at him.

He nodded and offered Hedwig some crackers. "At least they owled ahead. Ron Flooing in here would have been... uncomfortable."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Trust you to come up with the understatement of the year, Moony."

Hermione laughed. "Serves them right for leaving me here and going off to America."

"Ah, but then we wouldn't have had this time together," Remus said, leaning down to give her a lingering kiss.

"They're picking me up here, in the afternoon," she said when he broke away.

"Well, we better make the most of the time we've got left," Sirius said, pulling her into his lap as Remus took Hedwig to her cage in his study.

They were all clean scrubbed and innocent-looking the next day, when Harry and Ron Flooed over from the Burrow.

The boys looked tanned and relaxed, and Remus had to bite his lip not to laugh at Hermione's smug smile when Ron said, "We missed you. Did you miss us?"

She looked down at her hands, wrapped demurely around her mug of tea, the perfect picture of the prissy Miss Granger everyone thought they knew, and said, "A little at first. But Sirius and Remus kept me busy."

Remus couldn't look at Sirius, who appeared to be having a hard time keeping his mouth shut.

Harry nodded, and Ron said, "I hope she didn't keep you blokes up too late or anything."

"Oh, she kept us up, all right," Sirius replied. Under the table, Remus kicked him, hard. "We had a grand time," he continued blithely. They exchanged a glance, and Hermione bit her lip, her cheeks flushing a becoming pink. Harry's brow furrowed, but the whole thing seemed to go right over Ron's head.

"You must be worn out," Ron said.

"Yes, we'll be heading to bed as soon as you go," Remus said blandly. "We'll miss Hermione quite a lot."

There was an awkward pause, during which Remus focused on a point just beyond Harry's left shoulder, so he didn't burst into laughter by looking at Hermione or Sirius. Hermione rose and pressed a kiss to Sirius's forehead, and one to Remus's cheek.

"Thank you for spending time with me. This weekend, in particular, was... incredibly pleasurable," she said, still slightly flushed. "It was wonderful."

"Please, come any time," Remus responded. "We enjoyed having you. We'll have to do it again sometime." Sirius snickered and Remus shot him a warning glance. They were treading on dangerous ground, and it wouldn't do to give the game away. He was enjoying it far too much, though he'd never admit it. He figured Sirius knew.

Ron and Harry gave them puzzled glances before stepping into the fireplace, but Hermione grinned and winked. "Really," she said before Flooing away. "Thank you."

Once they were gone, Remus turned to Sirius. "Well?"

Sirius leaned over and gave him a gentle kiss. "Let's go to bed."

"I could do with a nap."

Sirius snickered again. "As if I'm going to let you sleep."

"You're insatiable. Worse than a teenager, Sirius." But he smiled and wrapped his arms around Sirius's waist.

"That's what coming back from the dead does for you."

Remus kissed him, tongue sliding into his mouth, to reassure himself yet again that this was real, that Sirius was here with him. "I'm glad I have the chance to find that out."

"Mmm, me, too."


Please post a comment on this story.

Fandom:  Harry Potter
Title:  Three Tequila
Author:  Victoria P.   [email]
Details:  Standalone  |  NC-17  |  29k  |  06/29/04
Pairings:  Remus/Sirius/Hermione
Summary:  Sirius. Remus. Hermione. Sex.
Notes:  Thanks to Sam for the title, Laura for the beta (all errors are mine), and everyone for the encouragement. Obviously, post-OotP. Don't ask me how Sirius came back. Just accept that he did.
Disclaimer/Other:  All Harry Potter characters belong to JK Rowling and Scholastic etc.; this piece of fan-written fiction intends no infringement on any copyrights.
Feedback: is yummy.
Archiving: Lists, Achromatic
Date: April 25, 2004

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