spooky kinktober 1: chains
involves: chains, choking, feeling trapped, possessiveness
A flash of lightning. Stark against the night sky, a towering mansion. Darkness again, and pounding rain. Thunder, its growl creeping in through the cracks and crevices in the house’s brick exterior. A gust of wind blowing cold through the corridors, over the moldy carpeting, the wood-paneled walls. Lightning again, illuminating the low heavy door to the basement. A rat squeaks at the flash and scampers down the stairs. The rain is nearly muffled down here, in the dank still air. Thunder rumbles again, nearly inaudible, a whisper in the ear of a man slumped against the wall, wrists hanging in chains and a ball and chain around his ankle.
Then, echoing from a dark corner, another whisper, human this time. Human, but barely.
“Sirius,” says the whisper. “I see you’ve been waiting for me.”
The chained man groans. His wrists chafe against the cold iron.
“Are you in pain?” says the whisper. “Is it hard?”
The whisperer steps out of the shadows. A scarred face, lined before its time. Grey-green eyes trained on the image of Sirius Black chained to the wall.
Remus Lupin kneels down. He reaches out a hand and places it between Sirius’ legs. Sirius jerks, crying out.
“It is hard,” Remus says, just the faintest hint of amusement sneaking through his chilly tone.
Sirius muffles a laugh. Both men clear their throats, composing themselves.
“I love seeing you like this,” Remus says, voice deepening as he slips back into character. “Chained up and waiting for me.”
“Please,” Sirius whimpers. “My wrists hurt.”
“That’s how I like it,” Remus replies sharply.
Sirius grits his teeth and pulls at his chains. They lurch forward and then clang back against the wall with a heavy sound. His arms, weakened by being held upright for so long, spasm uncomfortably as he tugs ineffectually at the metal holding him in place.
In a heartbeat, Remus’ hand is at his throat. “Don’t you ever forget that you’re my prisoner,” he hisses. “You’re not fucking going anywhere, Sirius.”
Sirius struggles, panic flickering across his face. His fingers scrabble uselessly in the air, and the leg weighed down by the ball and chain strains to extend beyond its tether. Remus’ grip tightens, cutting off more of Sirius’ air, and Remus straddles him, crouching low and staring straight into Sirius’ desperate eyes.
“Give it up,” Remus says, the thin reedy threads of Sirius’ breath moving through the throat underneath his fingers. “You’re mine.”
Sirius moans, head thrashing. Remus keeps his hand firm at Sirius’ throat, pressing just enough to allow Sirius sufficient air, and grinds hard against Sirius’ crotch.
“Mine,” he growls, and bites Sirius’ lower lip, sucking it into his mouth. He forces his tongue into Sirius’ throat and Sirius’ struggling breaths get faster and shallower. He pushes his hot, hard cock against the bulge in Sirius’ trousers. “Mine,” he growls again, deeper, a thrill of intense satisfaction in his voice. He fucks against Sirius, who is whimpering and struggling against the chains at his wrist and struggling to rub himself harder against Remus.
Remus’ grip tightens briefly, squeezing Sirius’ throat shut. Sirius gapes, searching for air. When Remus lets him have it, he sucks in a giant gasp and his arms go limp in their chains.
“Yours,” he says hoarsely, softly. “Yours, Remus.”
“Yes,” says Remus quietly, rubbing himself more gently now against Sirius’ crotch. “Yes.”
“Whenever I think you need it,” says Remus, “I will chain you up in this basement, Sirius. I will keep you here in Grimmauld Place, whatever it takes.”
Sirius nods, swallowing hard. “Thank you.”
Remus kisses him. “And you do look really fucking good chained up for me,” he murmurs.
“I wouldn’t do it for anyone else.”
“I know.” The men go quiet, looking at each other for a moment. Then a smile twitches at the corner of Remus’ mouth.
“Time for the prisoner to get fucked,” he says.
“Any chance you’re going to unchain me first?”
Remus grins, teeth sharp and wicked. “Not a chance.”
