musesfool is a sensible person, and Fanwank Avenger lives to reward sensible people! Especially when they describe gossip as illicit sex -- everyone wants to do it, but nobody wants to get caught.

Therefore, Fanwank Avenger has presented her with:

THE COLLAR

It was a collar.

It wasn't as though it was a particularly...nice collar. Sirius had no money for really nice things anymore, not since he'd left home. But the point was...it was a collar.

Remus looked up from his notes on the incredibly boring history lecture, for what must have been the thousandth time. Sirius was sitting two chairs down, bent over his own parchment, drawing pictures -- Sirius never needed to take notes.

His shirt was just slightly askew, the Gryffindor tie a little loose, and Remus was sure that from any other vantage point he wouldn't have been able to see it.

It was leather. Or a good imitation. It had a steel d-ring attached, probably for a leash. It was black. It was tight against his throat. It was possibly the most breath-catchingly sexy thing Remus had ever seen.

Sirius glanced over at him.

Lustsexwantneedleathercollarsteelblueeyesblackhairohsiriusoh...

The other boy dropped him a wink. Remus swallowed. When he'd turned his head, the collar had become completely obscured from view.

When had Sirius started wearing a...a collar? He wasn't in the habit of watching Sirius dress, more was the pity, but he was sure he hadn't seen it around the boy's neck before.

He wondered if someone had...had put it there.

He wondered if Sirius was wearing it for some girl.

Outside, after class, he leaned against the wall and waited for the other three. Sirius bent over his shoulder as they walked, lazily, slowing him so that James and Peter were a few steps ahead.

"Didja see it?" he asked.

"The c-collar?" Remus replied.

"Innit great? Got it in Hogsmeade. S'posed to be magic somehow but they wouldn't say how."

"Oh," Remus said faintly, imagining Sirius in nothing but the collar, imagining his fingers on the collar, imagining Sirius in nothing but the collar in compromising positions...the scrape of it against Remus' neck, chest...thighs...

"Here, you've gone all red," Sirius said. "Jealous? Bet you if I flash it at McGonagall I could make her fan herself."

"Probably so," Remus murmured. Justfriendsjustfriendswearejustfriends...

Idonotwanttothrowhimdownandshaghimsenselessbecauseofastupidbitofleather...

"I think you should wear it all the time," he said, as they entered the dining hall.

***

Well, Fanwank Avenger never claimed not to be a tease.

***

It took two weeks for James and Peter to notice the collar. It took a lot less time for the Gryffindor girls to notice. And the Ravenclaw girls. And the Slytherin girls. And the Hufflepuff girls, and quite a few of the Hufflepuff boys, as well.

Remus, however, was constantly conscious of it. A flash of steel below Sirius' shirt-collar, when he turned his head; a barely-discernable dark band under the white fabric. Sirius always seemed to have removed it by the time they undressed for bed. Which was just as well, or Remus' raging erection at the thought of that dog collar on Sirius' naked neck might never have gone away ever.

JustfriendswearejustfriendsIinnowaywanttofuckyourbrainsout...

He failed a test because of that collar. He very nearly failed a Transfiguration assignment because of that damned collar. He finally found a Slytherin girl and bought her dinner and did unutterably indecent things to her because of that collar. Not that it did much good.

It was going to kill him, and he didn't want Sirius to ever, ever take it off.

Funny how you wish for something and then...

He was supposed to be studying. He looked like he was studying. Remus was sitting on his bed with a book propped against his knees, ostensibly reading about some Goblin uprising or other. In reality he was trying not to think about --

Oh, sweet Merlin on a pole.

Sirius emerged from the washroom, in his pajama pants, the collar still around his neck, dark and tight, the steel glittering with water from his shower. In the last year he'd gained height and muscle; he looked older than his sixteen years. And that black leather around his neck made Remus blush in ways that were probably all too obvious.

"Where's everyone gone?" Sirius asked, tossing himself onto his bed. Remus watched the flex of his shoulders in awe, the slide of muscles under skin the slide of muscles against skin no no no just friends.

"Common Room. James is doing a study thing," Remus answered, tense. Sirius dug a finger under his collar.

"Help me off with this thing, the buckle's stuck."

Remus swallowed convulsively. "Come here then," he said, laying the book carefully across his lap. Sirius rolled off his own bed, tumbling gracefully to his feet and bending over Remus. The brown-haired boy's hands reached for the collar, exploring the clasp, trying to decide how best to release it when really all he wanted was to hook a finger through the D-ring and pull Sirius down on top of him.

Sirius tilted his head to one side and exhaled slowly as Remus' fingers slid under the clasp.

"Feels good," he muttered. "Collar rubs there, makes the skin sensitive."

Remus caught his breath.

"Just there..." Sirius' head tilted back slightly. Remus found himself running his thumb slowly along the line of Sirius' throat, under the collar.

Sirius' hand was on his thigh.

On his thigh.

On his thigh on his thigh on his thigh on his oh no that wasn't his thigh anymore that was his ummm, Sirius....

"Like the collar, Remus?" Sirius asked, in a low voice. Remus gasped as his hand moved just that much more. "Easy to use," he added, adjusting his body so that Remus' fingers brushed the ring inset into the leather. "After all, I got it for you..."

Remus raised his eyes to Sirius', and saw a mixture of hope and arousal and want and need and fuck...

He curled one finger through the ring in the collar, and pulled gently.

Sirius' body covered him, guided by his own hand, pulling him close, the rasp of leather on his jaw as Sirius kissed him.

NotjustfriendsgodSiriusthereyourmouthyourtongueyourcockohyourcollar...

Remus was still fully clothed, but he felt Sirius fumble along his thighs, felt him push the textbook out of the way, heard it tumble to the floor. He was still holding the other boy close to him, tongue sliding into Sirius' mouth, fingers securing Sirius by the collar, not allowing him to move, barely allowing him to breathe.

"For me?" Remus asked, in reply to Sirius' half-forgotten comment about who exactly he'd bought the collar for. "For me for mine?"

"For you for yours," Sirius replied, sliding a leg across the bed, straddling Remus' lap, his hands busy at the throat of Remus' shirt. "Fucking took you long enough."

Remus arched his back and his hips lifted and oh, there was the glorious friction of Sirius' erection against his own through their clothes. He renewed his grip on the collar, fingers curling now around the leather, more confident. Sirius moaned.

"Right there," he said, feeling Remus' fingers against his skin under the collar, sensitive from two weeks of pressure. Remus merely held him in place, his other hand cupping the back of Sirius' head, twining gently in the soft hair there.

Remus' shirt was open now, pulled out of his trousers, and Sirius' hands slid along his hip, up his torso, over his shoulders. He growled, tugging gently against Remus' grip.

"Let me...everywhere..." he said, his voice guttural, hoarse-pitched, aroused. "Show me Remus..."

Remus released the collar, hand sliding down Sirius' slick skin, over his chest, across his flat belly.

"Did you wonder who I was wearing it for?" Sirius asked, as he ducked his head to press against Remus' chest. Remus felt him inhale, rapturously. "Did you want to be the one?"

"Yes oh yes..." Remus moaned. Sirius moved lower, the warm steel of the collar tracing a line of fire across Remus' skin. "Wanted to be the one...it was so secret, Sirius, tight leather around your throat -- "

Sirius moaned and kissed his stomach, just above the belt of his trousers. Remus threw his head back and cried out softly as Sirius undid the flies, as the leather rubbed against his thighs, and then against his balls, and then Sirius' mouth was there was warm was so good...

Lustneedwantsexcollarleathersteelblueeyesblackhairsiriusbelongedtohimbelongedtohimbelongedonlytohim

Sirius' mouth on his cock. The warm soft feeling of Sirius, around him, nearly drove him to the edge. So many months of desire built up around the broad shoulders and the solid waist, the dark hair blue eyes, the cocky grin, the unabashed nakedness in the dormitory...

He thrust upward, felt Sirius moan in surprise, looked down and saw that there was an etching in the back of the collar. There was something in the leather that covered Sirius' neck above his shoulderblades, a name carved roughly into the material.

Moony.

Remus felt an electric jolt surge through him and he came unexpectedly, a hoarse cry ripped from his throat by the knowledge that Sirius had carved that name there, that Sirius belonged to him, was his, was marked as his. His name carved into the leather of the circlet around Sirius' throat, his fingers controlling where Sirius put his mouth, where Sirius looked, what Sirius touched.

He couldn't breathe, for christ's sake.

He reached down and hauled Sirius up by the ring in his collar, probably too rough, but he needed that mouth, needed the steel between his fingers, and Sirius came willingly, crushing his mouth, body overheated and sensitive. Remus tasted the mingled mixture of the grapes Sirius had eaten at dinner and his own self, felt the insistent hard-on against his hip.

"Please Remus," Sirius begged. "Please..."

And Remus smiled, and kissed him, and his hands pushed down the flimsy pajamas and deft fingers curled around Sirius' cock. It was just like any other time when he'd thought about fucking Sirius, about kissing Sirius, about that damned collar, only it was Sirius' body he was touching, Sirius who was moaning and thrusting against him. Sirius, now naked except for the collar, in his arms. Sirius' firm solid body. Sirius' eyes. Sirius' voice. Sirius, whom he'd wanted since before he knew what sex was, in a way he could only vaguely explain. Sirius, who was marked with the name Moony on a collar they both knew he would never, ever take off...

He felt the other boy tense, felt the slow slacking of the muscles as he came. He tugged on the collar and Sirius obediently lifted his face to kiss Remus once more.

"It was like being naked," Sirius said, against his neck. "Watching you look under my shirt for it. It was like being naked for you. It was like showing you everything."

"I wanted to bend you over a desk in the middle of class," Remus replied, stroking his fingers through Sirius' hair.

"I belong to you."

"I don't know if I like that."

Sirius slid his hands along Remus' arms. "It doesn't matter whether you like it. It's true."

Remus drifted his fingers over the cuts in the collar that spelled out "Moony" in angular letters. "Then that means I'm responsible for you."

Sirius kissed his shoulder. "If you like."

Remus didn't reply, but his hand curled possessively around the leather, and Sirius felt the pads of his fingertips against sensitive skin.

"Never take it off," Remus said softly.

"That was the plan," Sirius answered.

***