He can feel the heated caress of his eyes with every movement, which makes it all that much more exciting, makes his cock that much harder. There's a surge of power unlike any he's felt before when he releases that final breath before sliding his hand over the length of his cock, knowing Sirius's eyes are following his every movement, every breath.

His control is like an iron fist, reigning in any impulse he might have to turn his head and invite Sirius into his bed, not caring that James and Peter are in the same room, could awaken at any moment, stirring from the sleeping spell he placed on them both. He knows there's some measure of cruelty in torturing Sirius this way, might care if he could control the anger that still boils up in him sometimes.

Instead, he simply strokes himself, his eyes closed, reveling in the sound of Sirius's hitched breathing, the sudden stops of sound as he holds his breath right before he anticipates Remus coming. The first four nights he followed the same pattern, letting Sirius grow comfortable in his discomfort.

Tonight is different.

Tonight he kicks the covers off completely, baring his naked body to the room. His shorts are buried somewhere in the covers, the rustling fabric almost hiding Sirius's ill-suppressed moan. His cock is harder than normal, nearly touching his stomach in his arousal. Moisture glistens on the tip like a promise, like the dart of a pink tongue across his lips.

He runs his hands down his sides, trailing fingers over pale flesh before grasping his cock, one hand wrapped around the base, the other along the length, his thumb brushing over the head. He senses and hears Sirius lick his lips, the soft, wet sound encouraging him as he lifts his thumb to his mouth, sucking the liquid from his flesh.

Without hesitating, he drops his hand back down and begins stroking in earnest, closing his eyes as his hand heats up the silky hard flesh. He sees Sirius in his mind's eye, sees him watching, sees the fire burning in his gaze. He bites his lower lip, holding in the groan that threatens, tightens his throat.

He hears Sirius's sheets shift despite the blood pounding in his ears. He doesn't look, doesn't let himself do anything more than imagine as Sirius's breath seems to fill the room. Like every night he imagines that it's Sirius's hand on his cock, Sirius's breath in his ear, Sirius's body hot against his. He runs his hand along his length and swallows air that tastes like desire and need and want, letting his eyes part just enough to see Sirius's hand moving beneath the covers.

They're moving in unison and Sirius is nearly gasping, barely breathing. Remus's body arcs off the bed, his muscles taut with the threat of his orgasm. He smells blood and knows Sirius has bitten through his bottom lip again, smells come and knows Sirius has lost control.

He breathes out and comes as well, feeling the orgasm pulse through him, out of him, heat splashing on his skin. His hand keeps moving, prolonging the pleasure, the rush of his pulse in his ears fading to the sound of Sirius's ragged breath. He stops stroking himself and stills, exhaling slowly and closing his eyes again, feeling the undertow of satiation that threatens to drag him down.

He fights it, reaching for his wand and muttering a cleaning spell before turning on his side, his eyes meeting Sirius's for an unspoken, frozen moment before drifting closed, the image of Sirius's shocked desire following him into his dreams.