Title: Reddish Brown

Author: Kate of Kintail

Pairing: Remus/OMC

Rating: NC-17

Warnings/Kinks: Werewolf, masochism

Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me, nor does the hankie code (though I did make up a few special colors). This is all just play and I certainly don’t get paid.

Word Count: 1,365

Summary: Remus punishes himself and comes to terms with a number of his demons in the process.

Author’s Notes: Thirtieth in my colored hankie series for pervy_werewolf’s Lusty Month of May.

 

            Remus turned the pocket square over in his hand, staring at it critically. Even in the dark club he see its unique shade of reddish brown, not to be mistaken with those shades associated with scat or cigar smoking. He had only paraded this color handkerchief once, many years ago after Lily and James had died and Sirius had been carted away to Azkaban. He had blamed himself for it all and shoved this handkerchief in his pocket before going out, knowing full well what type of person it might attract.

 

            Knowing that even better now, he put it on display again. And he prepared himself for the consequences, feeling they were more than deserved.

 

            Remus sat at the bar, the hankie sticking out of the right back pocket of his jeans. He ordered three shots of fire whiskey and downed one right after the other. After that, he ordered three more and asked for them to be doubles. He knew well that they wouldn’t come close to killing the pain he felt, but they worked better than nothing.

 

            His leg jiggled up and down as he sat on the barstool, nervously awaiting someone to spot him and proposition him.

 

            It was possible, though not at all probable, that he might be approached by a man who simply found Remus interesting. Someone kind and sensitive- not unlike Sirius in his better moments- who would shag him with respect and sympathy. This wasn’t the type of person he was nervous about attracting. However, it was also not the type of person he wanted to attract tonight if this deed was to help him even remotely.

 

            “Hey you!”

 

            Not sure to whom the man with the rough voice was referring, Remus looked over his shoulder and turned on his stool to get a better look. There could be no confusion. The man was definitely looking straight at Remus. His eyes were a cold brown and his hair was equally brown, short, and thin on top. And while he was tall and broad shouldered, he was also a bit rounder ‘round the middle than was healthy. Not the world’s most attractive man by a long shot. Perfect.

 

            “Are you really a werewolf?”

 

            As though he would want to make something like that up! Remus nodded and lifted the end of his shirt to reveal a set of scars left by his claws so many years ago.

 

            “Do you bite during sex?”

 

            “That won’t make you—”

 

            “Do you?” the man prodded, sounding as though his patience were already worn too thin.

 

            “I will if you wish me to.”

 

            A dirty grin grew on the man’s face and he reached down to adjust his package. “Yeah, I wish you to.”

 

            Remus downed his last shot and rose. His legs felt a little unsteady as he stepped forward, but he would soon be on his back so he wasn’t bothered by that. The man grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to a relatively empty corner of a backroom. It was pouring rain outside, so Remus supposed he should have been glad they were staying inside at least. But at the moment drowning, naked in the rain wasn’t such a bad idea either.

 

            His clothes were systematically stripped away and he was slammed down against the top of a tall, metal spring frame bed with a grimy mattress. On any normal night, Remus would have pulled a face at the notion of looking at such a thing, but tonight he simply relaxed and accepted it.

 

            The man ran his hand over Remus’ dozens of scars, then leaned over Remus and ran his tongue over a few, tasting the beast that had done this to him. The beast within. The beast about to be awakened.

 

            Remus growled as the man fisted his cock roughly until it was hard. His breath was racing, something within him rising, his whole body shaking with the force it took to contain his emotion. And when the man leaned closer, Remus snarled and sunk his teeth into the man’s shoulder. He bit down hard but sucked as well, in a strong, angry kiss.

 

            The man let it continue for a moment before pulling back and slapping an open palm against Remus’ cheek. As Remus overcame the sting, he felt his legs being raised into the air and placed on the man’s shoulders. Apart from a brief start as his leg brushed the cold, wet spot where he’d kissed, Remus relaxed completely and let the man do as he wanted, once he made sure the man was wearing protection.

 

            This was not about Remus’ wants and needs. But, then, his going out was never really about his wants either, much as he claimed they were. It was about what he didn’t want.

 

            He didn’t want Sirius to know all the sides of him. He didn’t want Sirius to see this side of him, tonight, especially. He didn’t want Sirius to feel like he had to withstand so much to please Remus.

 

            Remus had some reservations about giving himself over entirely to Sirius, to trust and love the man as once he did. He’d felt betrayed once before and didn’t know how he could possibly stand it if that happened again. It was easier to go out than to become close and be entirely open. It was easier to go out than to love only Sirius and ask Sirius to love him back. It was easier to go out than to ask Sirius to accept and love Remus with all his flaws and inadequacies.

 

            But Sirius was so much stronger than Remus could imagine. He had survived and escaped Azkaban prison. He had worked years to become an animagus in order to embrace and help Remus as a werewolf. He had put up with Snape and Molly and Remus’ strange whims of late. Sirius deserved more from Remus. Sirius deserved a Remus who only wanted him. Sirius deserved a Remus with everything worked out of his system.

 

            As the man shoved his dick in and out, Remus felt the urges welling up inside him. It was instinctual, a physical side effect of the man’s prick touching his prostate and hand touching his cock. He was helplessly aroused and being fucked senseless, though the whiskey had also contributed to the losing of his senses.

 

            “Half-blood bastard,” the man muttered. He was thrusting so hard, so fast that he was rather breathless. But the man’s whole body shook without any rhythm or predictability at all, moving only with his desperation and urges to fuck a “Dirty, filthy werewolf.” He slapped Remus again.

 

            Remus growled when it got especially rough, which only seemed to make the man thrust into him harder, or at least do his version of thrusts. The man’s skill was far less than splendid. To keep them steady, Remus’ hands dug into the man’s torso, gripping hard, scraping with his fingernails, drawing blood. And when Remus came, only once the man had started to, he howled because it was expected of him and because he couldn’t contain the emotions any longer.

 

            When it was over, the man gave him a very disgusted look and practically dropped him.

 

            “Thank you,” Remus said softly, waiting for the rest of himself to properly settle down before reaching for his clothes.

 

            “Yeah, thanks,” said the man, fingering the bite mark on his shoulder as he pulled on his own shirt, turned, and walked back to the main section of the club.

 

            Feeling somewhat intoxicated, and in a small amount of pain, Remus stood and buttoned up his pair of jeans. He carried the rest of his clothes- shirt, socks, shoes- with him as he went straight for the exit. Only he left the hankie on the floor where it had slipped out of his pocket on its own.

 

            He stood out in the rain for a moment, looking up as it poured straight down upon him. It soothed his stinging cheeks and ran down his chest, masking some of the scars. Unable to apparate in his current condition, Remus walked all the way back to Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Back home.