Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Aftercare	By : JBankai89 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Remus Views: 17017 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, I gain nothing from this but a way to pass the time.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
Part III: Play

Harry, despite his apparent promise to let Remus think on the offer in peace, he was clearly doing everything he could to sway his decision in the days to come.

From using every excuse in the book to touch Remus in some way—from a simple brush of the hand, to grasping his forearm, or touching his shoulder. Each contact sent a thrill of desire through the older man, and made it even more difficult to say no.

The full moon was particularly hard that month, as his wolf had already begun to view Harry as his mate, and even with the wolfsbane, he scrabbled at the cellar door and bayed mournfully for the bespectacled young man.

By Saturday, his resistance was utterly shattered. Harry smirked knowingly at him from across the breakfast table while Teddy babbled at them both, utterly oblivious to the silent conversation passing between his two guardians.

The day passed normally enough, and after Teddy had been put to bed Harry sauntered upstairs, and came back fifteen minutes later—this time without a glamour concealing his outfit.

He looked like a walking wet dream.

Harry's hair had been washed and styled with product, and it looked more artfully windswept and less like a complete mess. He had dressed in a pair of very tight black leather short-shorts that just barely covered his arse, and left positively nothing to the imagination. He was also wearing a thick black leather collar, but nothing else.

Remus's mouth had gone very dry at the sight of him, while Harry appeared unconcerned, and merely offered the older man a playful wink before he made for the front door.

Remus wasn't completely aware on a conscious level that he had followed Harry, but just as suddenly he was standing next to him at the door, a hand pressed against it to stop him leaving.

“You're not going out like that,” Remus said roughly, and Harry snorted.

“What are you, my mother?”

“Harry, you look like...like...” Remus trailed off and Harry cocked an eyebrow at him.

“I've gone out like this every week-end for the past year,” Harry replied, “you just didn't know it.”

He flicked his wand at himself suddenly, and his usual glamour fell into place, showing Harry to be wearing a set of normal clothes. He reached past Remus and grabbed his cloak off the hanger, and at the same moment, a soft tapping sounded from the other side of the door, and Remus jerked back from it, startled by the sudden knocking.

Remus dropped his hand and Harry pulled the door open to reveal Andromeda standing on the other side of it.

“Andromeda,” Harry said with a small smile, “thanks for coming.”

“Oh, Harry, it's no problem,” she replied, “you two work so hard with that little terror that I call a grandson, you deserve a night off once in a while.”

She spoke fondly, despite the phrasing, and Harry chuckled a little as he reached for Remus's hand.

“C'mon,” Harry said as he gave Remus's hand a gentle tug. In spite of his pushy actions, there was a pleading in Harry's eyes. He didn't have to go, he could firmly say no and Harry would (possibly) respect that, but Harry knew as well as Remus did that he could not refuse this. He offered Andromeda an awkward, halting goodbye as Harry half-dragged him from the house.

Remus had no idea what to say as Harry led him down the street and to the nearest Apparition Point. His words escaped him as little more than a jumble of syllables, but when they'd almost made it to the point, he dug in his heels and Harry jerked to a stop.

“Harry, I don't think I can do this,” he said quickly, “I'm not—I mean, this isn't my world...I can't be seen in a place like that, I—”

Harry silenced him with a tender kiss, it so sweet and gentle that Remus felt his heart flutter with longing. It had been so long since he'd been with someone, and the gentle contact was not helping him hold onto his resolve.

“Here,” Harry whispered, “put this on.” He pressed something small and metal into Remus's hand, and he looked down to see a simple brass ring. “It's a Perception Shift,” he explained, “it's sort of like a Disillusionment Charm, but it doesn't make you invisible, just unnoticeable and anonymous. Would that make you feel better about coming with me?”

Remus was still uncertain whether he wanted to go at all, but Harry's bright-eyed, pleading look was difficult to deny.

“Fine,” he replied with a heavy sigh, and slipped the ring on. “I have a feeling that I'm going to regret this.”

Harry immediately reached for him again and kissed him lightly. “Anything I can do to reassure you?” he asked as he pressed the heel of his palm against the front of Remus's trousers, and cocked an eyebrow. “Anything at all?”

“You're a terrible influence,” Remus replied dryly, and Harry grinned at him.

“C'mon,” he said, and gave Remus's hand a small tug, “I promise to show you a good time.”

Resigning himself to an evening of strangeness, Remus allowed himself to be tugged and led the rest of the way to the Apparition Point without any more words of protest.

~*~

Harry led Remus in Side-Along Apparition to the club, which Remus found somewhat ironic, given what he knew about Harry's sex practices.

Outside, Harry offered Remus's hand a gentle squeeze, and after breaking the glamour to display his scant clothing choice for the evening, he led him inside.

As they wove through the crowds of people, most of whom Remus did not recognize, though the few that he did he found it rather difficult to mask his surprise—Lucius Malfoy should not have been a shock, but seeing him on his knees next to Narcissa certainly was. He also caught sight of Luna and Neville again, as well as Charlie Weasley, Hestia Jones, and even Ludo Bagman milling about, all of them appearing completely at ease in the space, a stark contrast to the way Remus's stomach continued to twist nervously.

Harry never paused, but continued to intermittently squeeze Remus's hand reassuringly, as though in an attempt to quell his clear what the hell am I doing here? feelings. He did slow his pace a few times to offer a nod and smile to some of the other patrons, and expertly wove through the crowd, avoiding the wandering hands of several people who seemed to fancy themselves domineering partners. He tugged Remus close in those moments and tucked himself into the older man's side, while he gave those men and women pointed looks, and they quickly backed off.

Harry led Remus away from the main area of the club, and down a narrow hallway that he recognized from the descriptions in Harry's journal. It was entirely nondescript, though filled with the sounds of what the occupants of these rooms were up to—Remus could hear a jumble of moans and pained cries, slaps of skin-on-skin and whip cracks, all of which left Remus feeling confused, aroused, and nervous all at once.

Harry stopped at a door near the back of the passage, and let himself in with Remus in tow.

“Harry,” Zabini purred his name as he swept forward, and pulled the submissive into a familiar embrace. Remus ground his teeth; why was this man touching what was his?

An instant later, Remus shook his head violently.

What am I thinking? Remus thought in a panic, Harry isn't mine. He's his own person.

“Sir,” Harry replied with a small grin, and the taller man chuckled as he traced the shape of Harry's face with the tip of his finger, then pecked him on the lips.

“I see you brought company,” Zabini continued, while he began to stroke Harry's hair like he was a favoured pet, “care to introduce me?”

“Oh,” Harry turned back to Remus, but continued to lean into Zabini's gentle touches. “This is...er, John. I told him if he came with me tonight, you'd teach him a thing or two on how to properly handle a sub like me.”

“Oh Harry, there are no subs like you,” he purred, and wrapped an arm around Harry's bare waist as he levelled his gaze with Remus. “John, was it?” Zabini asked, and Remus nodded, while he thanked his lucky stars that the disguise that Harry had gifted him with seemed to be holding. He couldn't even imagine how mortified he would be if his ex-student worked out his true identity. “Well, John,” he continued, “I must say I'm a little saddened to let my little pet go, but my Harry has always been quite finicky on who he lets take him to heel, so you must be something quite extraordinary.” Harry beamed at the compliment, while Remus flushed a deep scarlet. “Follow me, we'll need a private room for this.”

With a finger hooked through one of the metal rings on Harry's collar, Zabini led him and Remus out of the room and towards a side door, which opened to a slightly smaller room, but with similar items within—a large round bed with all manner of leather cuffs and rings affixed to the headboard, similar chains hung from one of the walls, something that looked like a net was suspended from the ceiling, except made out of strips of leather instead of rope, and one wall was covered in hooks, each one holding a different item, from whips, floggers, and riding crops to dildos in every shape and size, anal plugs, and a number of items Remus did not recognize, and did not feel compelled to try and identify.

Remus licked his lips nervously and turned back to the other two occupants of the room, both of whom were smirking at him knowingly.

“You seem quite tense, John,” Zabini observed, and reached out to squeeze his shoulder. “Come, I'll get you something to help you relax. Harry and I need a moment to prepare anyway—the groom mustn't see the bride before the wedding, after all.”

Remus's gaze flicked to Harry, and he nodded encouragingly. Swallowing his protests, he allowed the younger man to steer him into yet another adjacent room, this one not much bigger than a broom cupboard, and contained a mini-bar and a leather wing-back chair.

Zabini moved smoothly over to the bar and poured him a scotch. He offered it to Remus, and he accepted it with a small, jerky nod of his head. He had assumed the younger man would immediately leave, but instead he swept in close, and brushed his lips against Remus's cheekbone.

“Relax,” he whispered softly, “by the end of the night, you'll see why Harry needs a firm hand. He wants it, if he didn't, he wouldn't be here.”

“You could have coerced him into thinking that he needs this,” Remus remarked, and Zabini chuckled softly.

“Now why would I do that?”

“Because you're a Slytherin.”

“Oh, House prejudice, shame on you!” Zabini replied with another chuckle, and reached down to give Remus's bum a sharp squeeze, which caused him to jump. “If I was a little bit more obsessed with Harry like a certain blond aristocrat I know, maybe that would be true, but as hard as it is for you to believe, Harry really is here of his own volition.” Zabini paused, and looked Remus up and down, the small smirk never leaving his face as he leant back in and kissed Remus on the cheek one last time. “It's a shame you're a dom, I feel like it would be great fun to break you in. Just sit and relax, I'll come fetch you when Harry is ready.”

Without another word, Zabini stepped back and swept from the room, it snapping shut sharply behind him.

Remus sank into the proffered chair, and stared at the door that his ex-student had disappeared behind. He sipped the scotch, but he found that he couldn't enjoy it nearly as much as he normally would have, for even with his heightened senses, he could not clearly hear what was going on in the next room. The voices were heavily muffled, and though he could discern who was who, he could not make out what they were saying, and had to assume that there was a charm of some kind on the door that was inhibiting him from listening in. However, if the lightness of the tones and the muffled sounds of Harry's laughter were anything to go by, at least he didn't seem to be in any immediate danger.

Less than ten minutes later, while Remus enjoyed the low buzz of the alcohol, Zabini let himself back into the room with a small smirk on his face. He didn't say a word, but gently took back the empty glass from Remus before he took his hand and he led him back into the main room where he'd left Harry. As it would turn out, taking away the glass was indeed a good move, given that had he still been holding it when he first caught sight of Harry, there was every chance that he would have dropped it.

Harry was on the bed, his arms stretched out in front of him, his wrists crossed and bound with what looked like some sort of red ribbon. They had been twined through one of the rings on the headboard of the bed, and his head was bowed forward, his glasses removed and eyes covered by a matching red blindfold, and already he seemed to be in a state well beyond simple arousal, for he was panting shallowly.

The black leather shorts he had been wearing were gone, and red leather cuffs had been affixed to his ankles, with red rope threaded through their rings to tie him securely to the bed. A metal bar had been set between his knees, forcing his legs to stay open, and as a final touch, an anal plug had been inserted into his arse, this one decorated with a turquoise-coloured piece of cut glass designed to look like an octagonal gem of some kind. From Remus's vantage point, he could also see that Harry was painfully hard, but aside from his position making it impossible for him to seek out the sort of friction that would bring him to orgasm, he could see that a cock ring had been set in place, making it impossible for Harry to achieve any kind of release until either Remus or Zabini allowed him to.

Remus had never been very interested in bondage of this kind before, but at the sight of Harry, laid out like a sumptuous buffet, he had no idea where to start. His mouth had gone very dry, and he licked his lips unconsciously as he looked on, and his fingertips tingled, aching to touch and explore the young man, but at the same time, he felt almost frozen in place.

“He looks so good like this, doesn't he?” Zabini purred into Remus's ear like some sort of bizarre shoulder-devil. “Like he was made for this sort of submission. You wouldn't think it to look at him, famous Harry Potter, hero to millions, laid out for us to take our pleasure from him...and he'll love every second of it.”

At that exact moment, Harry let out a soft, plaintive whine, and he gyrated his hips with need. The sound shot straight to Remus's groin, and he shuddered a little as he watched the young man tremble in his bindings.

“He's a naughty little thing, isn't he? Trying to get off before we let him,” Zabini continued, and pressed something smooth and hard into Remus's hand. He looked down and his breath caught, for Zabini had handed him a narrow wooden cane. “You're going to teach him a lesson.”

At that exact moment, Harry let out another low moan and squirmed in his bindings, and Zabini chuckled.

“Ten strikes should teach him that only we decide when he may find release, don't you think?”

When Remus didn't immediately move, Zabini hooked his arm through Remus's, and gently coaxed him over to the bedside. Zabini let go of Remus and circled the bed until he was standing next to Harry's bowed head. He reached out and gently combed his fingers through his thick locks.

“Harry, you've been a little naughty, haven't you?”

“Y-yes, sir,” Harry replied weakly, his hips still gyrating a little in his desperate need to get off.

“Who decides when you cum?”

“Y-you do, sir,” Harry replied, panting sharply, his tone of voice very close to a needy whine.

“Your new master is going to teach you a lesson. I want you to count the strikes. If you miss one, we'll start over from the beginning,” Zabini said softly while he continued to stroke Harry's hair, “do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry replied, his voice taking on a distinctly breathless tone that once again shot straight to Remus's groin. Zabini smirked and lifted his gaze to Remus, and nodded his head once.

The narrow cane in Remus's hand suddenly felt very heavy, and the smooth wood no longer innocuous, but as dangerous as a knife. Could he really hit Harry?

“Relax, John,” Zabini whispered, suddenly much closer than Remus remembered him being, and he watched as the young man closed his hand over Remus's gently. “If Harry didn't want this, he would say his word, and we would stop. Pain can be pleasurable, and you could say that Harry...he needs this. Just relax, and move with me.”

Remus watched with morbid fascination as Zabini lifted his arm, adjusted his hold on the cane, and brought it down across the backs of Harry's thighs—hard.

Harry shrieked, his back arched, and he threw his head back sharply in response to the blow, his bodily reaction also causing him to tug sharply on his bindings.

“O-one!” he choked out, panting hard, and Zabini smirked.

“Good boy,” he praised, and led Remus's hand in another strike, this one landing squarely across Harry's arse, and hit the plug in the process, earning them another sharp yelp from the bound young man.

“Two!”

Remus, emboldened by the reactions, and lost to the surging feelings of lust and power that overwhelmed him as the blows rained down, barely noticed when Zabini withdrew his hand and Remus struck him again, a little higher this time, very close to his coccyx.

“T-three!”

The strikes continued, and through choking sobs Harry counted out the hits. Remus found himself revelling in Harry's responses, and despite the fact that his blindfold and cheeks were both damp with tears, his erection never wilted, and if anything, seemed to darken the longer the beating went on.

When the last stroke fell, Harry slumped in his bindings, panting hard, and Zabini eased down onto the bed next to Harry, and turned his head to kiss him lightly.

“You did so well, Harry,” he murmured, and reached up to stroke his hair, “your masters are very proud of you.” Zabini reached up to untie the blindfold with one hand, and motioned for Remus to come closer with the other. Remus obeyed, and watched as the blindfold came loose, and Harry's eyes were exposed. He blinked several times, but the dilated pupils did not shrink very much, and his glassy green eyes seemed to sparkle like a pair of precious gems. His eyelashes were damp and clung together slightly, and Remus could not recall ever seeing him happier.

Almost as though he'd been hit with the Imperius Curse, Remus reached out and cupped Harry's cheek in his hand. The young man leant into the touch with a small, contented sigh, a sound close to a purr escaping him as he nuzzled Remus's hand.

“Beautiful...” Remus whispered, and started a little, as he had barely realized that he had been speaking until the word slipped past his lips. Harry looked up at him with something close to a shy smile, and he heard Zabini chuckle next to him.

“Yes, he is, isn't he?” Zabini purred, and reached out to run his fingers through Harry's hair again while Remus continued to stroke his cheek. “He also has the most delightful little mouth...I'm sure he'd be delighted to show you his talents...”

As if in response to their conversation, Harry turned his head and closed his mouth over the tip of Remus's pointer finger, and began to suckle on it softly, very much like a newborn babe. Remus groaned softly and tilted his head back, while Zabini smirked at him knowingly. He turned his attention back to Harry, and eased down onto the bed next to the bound young man. He reached out to stroke his hair, and Harry let out a low moan at the contact.

“Would you like to suck his cock, Harry?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry replied softly as he leant into the touches.

“And would you like to suck his cock while I give you a treat?” Zabini purred, and Harry let out a small whimper of desire. Zabini reached down and pinched one of Harry's nipples none-too-gently, causing Harry to let out a small yelp. “That's not a proper answer, Harry, would you like a treat?”

“Yes, sir, I would like that very much,” he replied, his tone still very breathless, and Remus saw a shiver run through him as his former classmate reached up to caress the skin around the edges of his collar. He looked up at Remus and nodded his head once.

Lost to the thrum of power and lust that had clouded his mind, Remus stood fluidly and circled the bed until he stood directly in front of Harry. The werewolf part of his mind, the part he strove to keep buried as much as possible was rearing its head, and it seemed to keen in pleasure at the sexual dominance of these acts. Harry was panting and watching Remus with hooded eyes, though he was careful to never lock gazes with the older man, as though he knew how Remus's werewolf side would react to such a thing.

As Remus stopped in front of Harry at the head of the bed, Zabini raise his wand and flicked it once. Immediately, the bindings on Harry's wrists transfigured into a pair of cuffs that matched the ones attached to his ankles, and he fell forward, his face hitting the mattress, his arms wholly unprepared to hold his weight. Remus gave Harry a moment to recover, then he pulled himself up on all fours, the new bindings still heavily restricting his movements, but also gave the young man a more comfortable position to access Remus's cock.

Harry caught his bottom lip between his teeth, and he looked up at Remus.

“Sir, may I please suck your cock?” Harry asked, his tone of voice so sweetly innocent that Remus just barely managed to keep from groaning out loud. He reached for Harry and ran his fingers through his perpetually untidy hair, and Harry immediately pressed his head into the older man's hand, very much like an insistent cat wanting to be pet.

“When you beg so prettily, how could I possibly refuse?” he asked rhetorically while with his free hand he moved to the top button of his trousers, and popped it open. Harry watched with rapt attention as Remus thumbed open the short line of buttons, and he licked his lips like he was being offered a gourmet, five-star meal of some kind.

Remus continued to stroke Harry's hair while he pushed down his fitted briefs and extracted his cock, and just barely managed to swallow a prideful smirk at the sharp intake of breath from the sub as he took in the sight of the organ.

Thick, four inches round and eight inches long, cut, with a bead of precum clinging to its tip. It was an enviable cock, and the sole physical side-effect of his Lycanthropy that Remus did not hate.

Harry did not seem to hate it either as he stared at it, and Remus could smell his arousal on the air. He lurched forward, but let out a whine when he realized that he could not reach it.

“Is there something you want, Harry?” Remus asked softly, and his emerald gaze flicked up to Remus.

“Please, sir,” he said softly, “please let me suck you—fuck my mouth...use me.”

“Hmm, I could,” Remus mused, “but there is something so endearing about listening to you beg...” Harry whimpered, and lurched in his bindings again, while Zabini, who was watching the pair, smirked and nodded his head approvingly.

“No, sir, please,” Harry pleaded, and Remus was almost certain that he saw a tear in his eye, “I'll do whatever you want, please, just let me taste you, you're so...so...big.”

Remus combed his fingers through Harry's hair again, then grabbed hold of it at the back of his head, and jerked his head up. Where most people would have cried out at the sudden pain, Harry moaned.

“Whatever I want?” Remus asked, and Harry nodded weakly.

“I'm yours to command...to control...” he replied, and Remus let out a soft groan at the image that Harry had painted for him in barely enough words to constitute a full sentence.

Without another word, Remus pressed the tip of his cock to Harry's lips, and he immediately opened his mouth to accept the organ.

And what a mouth it was.

Harry worked the cock past his lips and into his throat smoothly, and his muscles convulsed around the cock as it pushed past his uvula, he eagerly swallowing the organ and showing no hint of discomfort in the act. Through his haze of arousal, Remus marvelled at Harry's talent, and it was almost as though he was made to suck cock.

When Remus had hilted himself inside Harry's mouth, he drew out slowly and thrust back in, and Harry took it, and seemed to be moaning around the cock in his throat, as though he drew pleasure from servicing his so-called master.

“You can go faster than that,” Zabini commented, and Remus glanced up to see the younger man watching them while he palmed himself through his trousers. “Harry has a very talented mouth, and he can take it.”

Taking the Slytherin's word for it, Remus slid out of Harry's throat again and thrust back in more quickly, and true to his word, Harry seemed to have no problems accepting Remus's rough treatment, and indeed squirmed more insistently against his bindings, and moaned like a bitch in heat every time Remus slid momentarily from his throat.

Remus was so lost in pleasure, he had rather forgotten that one particular quirk of his werewolf physiology would 'out' him, as it were, to the former student that was watching him fuck Harry's mouth, and as he muttered softly, “take a deep breath.”

He waited until Harry had obeyed before he thrust back into his throat as the base of his cock swelled, and he locked himself inside Harry's mouth as he found his release with a loud, pleasured grunt.

Remus heard Harry let out a muffled sound of surprise at this turn of events, but did not seem to be in any immediate discomfort as he swallowed the thick ropes of cum that shot into his throat, and he breathed shallowly through his nose as they waited for his knot to deflate. Remus could see a thin line of drool leaking from the corner of Harry's mouth, and when Remus looked back up, he could see that Zabini's eyes were glittering with amusement—and recognition.

“Professor,” he said with a small nod of his head, “my, my...this is a surprise.”

Remus blanched when he realized what his orgasm had done, and he could feel Harry quivering around his cock, as though he was trying to keep himself from laughing. He frowned at the young man, but kept as still as he could in an effort to not gag or suffocate Harry with his cock. He reached down to stroke Harry's hair as he stared at his former student, and he found the action of petting Harry like this oddly relaxing.

“Mr Zabini, I—” Remus began as his former student circled Harry and strode over to him, but he was quick to interrupt the older man.

“—Please, Blaise,” he said as he reached out and touched Remus's chest with his fingertips, and trailed them down to his open trousers. “I hardly think such courtesies are really necessary at this stage, do you?”

To the remark, Remus felt himself flush a deep scarlet, and Blaise's smirk widened into an amused grin. He reached down farther and cupped Remus's bollocks in his hand, but so soon after ejaculation they were terribly sensitive, and he shivered.

“Professor Snape taught us a great deal about werewolves in your absence, possibly more than was really appropriate for a third year class, but I digress...” he trailed off as he squeezed Remus's bollocks firmly, but not painfully, as he continued to stare at his former teacher. “Such as the fact that werewolves are deeply protective and possessive of their mate or mates. They don't like people touching them, or being near them, especially too close to either side of the full moon. But perhaps you can find it in your heart to allow me the honour of sharing your little sub with me? I've had the chance to share him quite a few times, and, my God, it's like he was made to take more than one cock at a time...”

Remus's hand stilled in Harry's hair.

“Who else?” he demanded, and winced at the overwhelming sense of jealousy that flared in his chest. He felt his knot shrink just enough to separate himself from Harry, and he pulled away from him with an obscene, wet pop! and Harry sucked in air greedily as he sought to catch his breath. Remus meanwhile, paid Harry almost no mind as he focused intently on Blaise.

“A gentleman never kisses and tells,” Blaise teased as he reached down for Harry and began to gently massage the hinge of his jaw, while Harry fell to the bed heavily, his body still spreadeagled, but radiating exhaustion and arousal in equal measure. “Let's just say that your Harry has tasted his fair share of...forbidden fruits. This is his first time with a werewolf, as far as I know, though.”

“Harry's not mine,” Remus began awkwardly, while he struggled to ignore his flaring emotions of both desire and embarrassment, and he focused instead on Blaise's earlier phrasing. “He's—he's—”

“—he's a submissive,” Blaise cut in in a deadpan tone of voice, “a submissive who loves being dominated and claimed, as though he holds no more importance in one's life than that of a teakettle. He lives to spread his legs for people like us, and he loves every second of it. Would you really deny him all that, knowing full-well it's what he wants...what he needs?”

Blaise's hand moved to Harry's collar, and he trailed his fingertips along the edges of it, and Remus watch Harry quiver—though whether it was from exhaustion or desire, he was uncertain.

The onslaught of new information was making Remus a little dizzy, in particular the idea of Harry with dozens of other men. The mental image of faceless people taking their pleasure from Harry in any way they wished made him want to hurt something. He clenched his teeth and let out a low growl.

The sound was almost deafening in the silence of their private room, and the vocalization caused Harry to moan with desire, while Blaise's eyes widened a little, and his smirk returned. He closed the distance between them, and leant in as though to kiss Remus, but stopped a hairsbreadth from the older man's lips.

“Allow me the honour of cleaving his arse wide open for our dual use? I assure you, he will not complain.”

The strong smell of sex in the room, paired with his recent orgasm, and the closeness of Blaise, his enviable erection pressing into Remus's thigh was all very distracting, and not at all conductive to clear thinking. He didn't want to hurt Harry, or take advantage of him, but in this setting, he needed to remind himself that Harry would likely want to be hurt, and beg for more.

Forcing the concerns to the back of his mind, Remus nodded his head.
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Aftercare