Fic: Ten Galleons

[lls_mutant]

I hate plot bunnies. (I also hate LJ right now, as it just ate my last post.) I hate the kind that have to be written Right. Now. Or they won't let you get anything done.

One of those bit me today.

So I wrote this, just to shut it up. It comes from a comment I found about how there's fic with many HP characters doing the prostitute thing, but never for Sirius. Which is kind of silly, because IC Remus would probably die before doing it, it wouldn't occur to Harry, no one would pay Severus for it (unless he washed his hair) but Sirius? Hell yeah, Sirius would do it.

Although I like the AIL scenario much, much better.

I'm going to sleep on this one before I cross-post it anywhere, because the tense does something wierd (like, changes?) half-way through and a part of me thinks it works and a part of me laughs my ass off at that idea. But we'll see.

So without further ado...

Title: Ten Galleons
Pairing: Sirius/various, including Remus
Rating: R
Disclaimer: not mine



The first time it happened was the summer between his fifth and sixth year.

The Blacks were hosting some sort of occasion; even then Sirius couldn’t have told you for what reason. Some formal party where guests milled about in dress robes, drinks and dainty finger foods appeared over the heads of bent house elves, loud and insincere compliments were exchanged and insults were traded in razor-edged voices sheathed in satin. The best of the wizard world, the purest of bloods- or the richest, as tainted blood could be forgiven at least in association- were present, making for a very dull afternoon.

A loudly whispered angry argument with his mother over his manners had sent Sirius to the library in a huff. He’d been curled up on an armchair, nose deep in a book when the door had opened and an older man had walked in.

“Well, well, Sirius. I was wondering where you were.”

“You must be the only one. I didn’t think it was much of a secret that I stormed out, Mr. Jensen.”

“No, I guess not.” Jensen wandered closer, perusing the books on the shelves. “You’ve got yourself a nice little hideaway here, don’t you?”

Sirius shrugged insolently, but he lowered his book and watched the man.

There was a current in the air he couldn’t identify, but it was strong and sent tendrils of fear and something else down his nerves and up his spine. He felt it again in a pronounced jolt when he heard the lock of the library slide shut, bidden to do so by a just barely perceptible flick of Jensen’s wand. Jensen turned to him, studying him with mud brown eyes. Sirius raised an eyebrow.

“You’re a pretty boy, you know,” Jensen said finally.

You’re not, Sirius thought. Heavy jowls, grey hair, a paunch and an oversized nose were far from attractive.

“I’ll give you five galleons if you blow me.”

There were options. There were many options. He could have gotten up, stormed out of the room and slammed the door. He could have shouted for help. He could have used magic to escape; he was underage but this would qualify as an extreme circumstance and the Ministry would forgive it. There were probably more.

“I’ll do it for ten.”

Jensen’s eyes widened in shock, but he recovered quickly. “For ten I’ll be fucking you.”

Sirius met his eyes defiantly. “All right then.”

It didn’t take long, a hurried copulation of wheezing and overeager hands, sweaty palms and bad breath. Arms wrapped around him, pulling him onto a lap and holding him steady as the man beneath him rutted into him, piercing with pain and grunting like a stuck pig. Then it was over and Jensen was buckling his belt and fishing out fifteen galleons, because he’d never had it so fucking good and he’d give Sirius more if Sirius would come by his house some night.

Sirius just laughed at him, because he hadn’t done it for money and he hadn’t done it for sex and he hadn’t done it for any reason other than he knew his mother hated Jensen with a passion but had to be polite because he kept his father funded. It wasn’t an act of desperation, but a giant “fuck you” to everyone who expected him to be the perfect scion of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Jensen retreated, confused and sputtering, and Sirius looked at the gold in his palm.

And that was how Sirius Black lost his virginity; when some disgusting man he couldn’t stand paid him fifteen galleons for it.

***

The Knight Bus picked him up outside Hogwarts on a rainy November night, a week after the full moon had almost killed his best friend, his worst enemy and a perversely innocent werewolf.

I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry. The words ran through his head and his lips like a mantra, and enough was enough.

Sirius Black was sick of being sorry.

So he took the bus to London and he waited on a street corner, and when some nameless bloke stopped beside him and asked if he had a light, Sirius told him he did but it was twenty pounds for the use of it.

Sex in an alley, hot and hard and with the scraping of cheek against rough brick and the taste of blood in his mouth. Hard cutting words that he needed to hear, and then his soul was cleansed as he was left used and spent amid the garbage of the alley.

He dropped the note into the sewer and hailed the bus home.

***

The Potters’ house was warmth and safety, family and love. No darkness lingered in corners, no talks of blood and pride and nobility assaulted his ears. He had a room to himself, food on the table, and the concern of two parents and now a brother in fact as much as perception.

And yet he was at odds, because for once in his life there was nothing to hate, no line to walk.

“Where do you go at night?” James asked him once, as they lay on the grass in the back yard.

“I have a job,” Sirius said.

James just laughed, and Sirius laughed with him because the idea of Sirius Black working was admittedly ludicrous.

But that night he pulled on Muggle jeans and muggle t-shirt, waved good-bye to the Potters and cheerfully announced he’d be back late, because his boss was likely to keep him. He Apparated to London and leaned against a wall, waiting on a street corner.

He’d been there an hour when Brighton happened by, pretending to just be in the area even though it was obvious he was lying. Like usual it was quick and painful- Brighton never used enough lube- and like usual he called Sirius John. Obvious. Obvious and laughably pathetic, and when he was gone Sirius chuckled over it to himself, because respect was something none of his customers deserved, this one least of all. Too bloody scared to fuck the real thing, so he paid for a fantasy and settled for trash.

Because that’s what he was: trash. He was under no illusions about what he was doing, and he prettied it up with no words. He fucked people for money. He was a whore, a prostitute, a slut… whatever other slang you could come up with. There was no sexual pleasure in it; if he had orgasms he didn’t remember them, and his johns were never tender or gentle. They wanted to get off, and he gave it to them. He, the little pureblooded, mannered, cultured, educated, intelligent Black let them screw him for money and didn’t think twice.

There was a certain satisfaction in that, and that was what Sirius did it for.

***

After a while that satisfaction even began to fade, and there was nothing but cold and emptiness. He didn’t need the money because he had a job and he didn’t need the defiance because he was fighting enough for three men. At one point he stopped for a whole year.

Then the Prewett brothers were killed, and it began to hurt.

Then he found Benjy Fenwick, torn to bits.

Then Caradoc Dearborn was gone.

Then Marlene McKinnon.

And he began to do it again, because cold and emptiness were better than the burning pain that filled him when he was thinking.

***

Ten galleons. He had never raised his price. Ten for a fuck, five for a blow. For Muggles, it was twenty pounds and ten, but it was the same principle. He could command more but he didn’t, because money was never the point.

He woke up one morning in a cheap hotel room, and he knew- even though there was no proof- he’d fucked a Death Eater. It gave sleeping with the enemy a whole new meaning. But he would bet money- every last knut he had- that that was exactly what Rosier was.

Well, at least that was ten fewer galleons in a Death Eater pocket.

***

Things were bad. James and Lily were marked for death, and Sirius was sure he probably was too, although he wasn't as important as Prongs was. Remus was silent those days and Peter was drawn and pale, and everything was about to go to hell. Every day could have been their last, which was stupid because that was always true, and now they couldn't even enjoy it.

He knew he shouldn’t go out when he didn’t need to. He knew he should hide. But it had never been in Sirius Black to hide, and maybe he did it just to piss off Dumbledore, who insisted that Sirius, Remus, or Peter must be a fucking traitor. Well, not in those words. But that was what he meant.

So fuck them, and fuck Dumbledore. Sirius did what he wanted.

***

He was standing on the street corner in the cold October wind when ten galleons were pressed into his hand. The money was real and the hand was warm, so he turned and was brought up short when he met familiar brown eyes.

Remus simply raised his eyebrows.

“No,” Sirius said, for the first time ever, pushing the money back into Remus’s hand.

“Yes,” Remus replied calmly, extending it. The galleons glinted brightly.

“Why?” Sirius asked, breaking another rule. He’d never asked. He’d never wanted to know.

“Because.” Remus kept the rule intact, even if he didn’t know that’s what he was doing. And then there was nothing Sirius could do but pocket the money and lead Remus to the seedy inn that rented rooms by the hour.

He’d wanted this, and he knew it. That was the real reason he took Remus’s money. If he had known that Remus swung this way he would have seduced him sooner, but Sirius realized he didn’t know much about Remus anymore, not because Remus never told him but because he never listened.

He undid the buttons on his jeans, the bed between him and Remus, who was undressing with shaking hands. He couldn’t look him in the eye and he was reluctant to undress, although usually he tossed his clothes aside with the arrogance of having a body worth showing. Then Remus slid between the sheets, and Sirius was in bed beside him, warm skin against warm skin.

Remus wanted Sirius to fuck him. It wasn't a request Sirius was used to, but he did it anyway. He was gentle and a little bit slow, but he heard Remus hiss with pain and suddenly he knew that this was Remus’s first time- Remus had never had sex before this. But Remus didn’t tell him that; he only ducked his head and moved awkwardly with the tempo of Sirius’s thrusts.

They laid beside each other after, both staring at the ceiling and silent. “How did you know?” Sirius finally asked.

“Rosier was talking about it,” Remus said sleepily.

Rosier. A Death Eater. Sirius didn’t want to think about that. “What did he say?”

Remus shrugged. There was something about that shrug that is guilty and defensive, like Remus was hiding something, and Sirius thought maybe it had nothing to do with the fact Remus just admitted he betrayed them, but rather that Remus realized that Sirius is a joke in Death Eater circles.

There were so many things he could have done. Many options. He could have hexed Remus then and there. Bound him, turned him in, kept the others safe. He could have challenged him to a duel and gone down in a burst of green light when Remus killed him. He could have ordered Remus out, and never spoken to him again. But Sirius pulled him close, kissing him softly and coaxing him back, and for the first time he slept with someone without getting paid. And yet he knew that it wasn't an act of love but one of farewell, because one of them was going to kill the other and nothing would ever be right again.

In the morning, Remus was gone, and Sirius knew what he had to do. He pulled on his clothes and left to talk to James.

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[marauderthesn.livejournal.com]

Actually, I've met a few nutters online who think that prostitution is as legitimate and fulfilling a career option as anything else...