Completed: 3/22/05 3:26 PM

Posted: 3/24/05 11:56 PM

A/N: AH! What is this! I've written smut! A rare jewel for you lot brought on by too much sun and definitely too many daiquiris.

WARNING: Apparently I have to put this in here for those who haven't heard my rants:

This is Siremione, meaning:
Remus x Hermione
Sirius x Hermione
Remus x Sirius

Remus x Hermione x Sirius.

We like to call this an OT3, or a True Threesome. Lots of love going around people (everybody loves everybody else) don't like it...well read it anyway and tell me something nice; you know I love a good review. Let's give two thumbs up for polyamory peoples!


"Are you sleeping again, pet!"

Hermione sighed and stretched a bit, earning her a sharp jab in the side from Sirius. Grumbling about abuse, she yawned out a "no..."

Sirius snorted, leaning over her to dip his brush into the inkwell Remus, seated comfortably in a chair at the end of the bed, held up for him. "You're a terrible liar," Remus told her. "I can scarcely hear myself reading over your snores."

Oh, the leopard was wide awake now. Hermione glowered at him through the hair Sirius had pushed up around her face and shoulders, and her eyes regarded him sharply. "I do not snore."

The amused looks of Sirius and Remus met one another and for the sake of their sleeping accommodations that night, they held back their laughter as best they could. She snored.

"Of course not," Sirius assured her,

"You know," she said derisively. "This isn't exactly how I'd planned on spending my day off."

"What, sleeping?" Sirius said.

Hermione made a pitiful sound. "It's not my fault; making me lay still for hours listening to Remus read poetry." She pouted. "You know how wonderful his voice his..."

Sirius barked out a loud laugh, adding to Remus' warm chuckles. "Would you like me to stop?" he asked, teasingly moving to set down his brush.

From beneath the silk sheets of their bed one of Hermione's legs kicked up and she managed with a bit of a squirm to hit him rather hard in the arse. "This was your idea!" she exclaimed tersely before settling down again. "Besides, that feels good too..." she admitted grumpily.

Rewetting the tip of his brush, Sirius brought the fine hairs down between her shoulder-blades and she shivered at the cool liquid running down her spine; the white silk of their sheets, pulled up to her waist, making her pale skin lighter and the black ink across her bared back darker.

As Sirius went to back to his dedicated work and Remus sought for the page he'd lost in the book, Hermione sighed in relax and laid her head down upon her folded arms.

Even in the long rains
When the raindrops are nails hammering
I will see your face
And it will be the sun.

The sticks of incense they'd lit had cloaked the room in a heady cloud of cinnamon and patchouli, and at each breath of perfumed air she felt her eyelids growing heavier. Remus' steady voice was husky and satisfying; the well-placed strokes of Sirius' brush hypnotic.

When she woke again, Sirius' weight was now settled back on her legs and his fingers along her tailbone held the expensive sheets out of the way as he worked his masterpiece down across her hips.

The perfume of summer:
And yet the aroma of cherry blossoms wafts toward me
As if a door opened in the moon
To remind us that spring, although gone,
Remains waiting behind the silver door.

Her back ached and she longed to stretch, but she knew to do so would incur another sharp poke from Sirius so she ignored the temptation; instead, slowly turning her face to watch Remus as he read. He waited until he'd finished the page before acknowledging her gaze with a sly grin.

In the silence that followed, Hermione gestured him closer with a finger and he obliged; marking his book to close it and leaning forward a bit. Grinning impishly, she crooked her forefinger again and he came almost all the way out of his seat to compel. When he was close enough, she tilted her head upwards and kissed him.

Remus laughed against her lips and tweaked her chin as he pulled back and folded his lanky form into the comfortable armchair again. Tutting, he shook a discouraging finger at her and Hermione answered with a growl.

"Finished!" Sirius declared.

Forgetting Remus entirely, Hermione sighed in relief and immediately began to stretch her sleepy muscles. Almost knocking Sirius off, she arched her back, pressing her pelvis into the mattress and pushing off the bed with her palms. Her spine gave a delightful pop! and she rested back against the pillows.

Without any bidding, Hermione shifted and rolled beneath Sirius onto her back, baring a fresh new canvas. With the lethargic grace of a jungle cat, she stretched her arms above her head and caught Sirius with his jaw hanging. But when she realized that both her lovers were staring, her boldness crept away and she modestly crossed her arms over her bare breasts, though she coupled it with a scowl.

"I might just fall asleep again," she complained, irritably.

Sirius was now all grins. "No, no, no, love," he insisted. To Remus he said: "She's learning after all."

Hermione frowned at this and he had to put his brush between his teeth to be able to pry her hands from her chest. Remus came to his aid, and began running his long fingers through her hair in the way she liked to calm her. "Settle," he warned. "Or I shall have Padfoot paint a horrid looking clown right on your belly."

"Alright, alright," she said. "I'm settled."

Sirius held the coated bush above her skin as he contemplated what he wanted to do, and Hermione's torso reflexively shied away from what it already knew to be freezing cold ink. Placing a steadying hand along her side when he was ready, Sirius leaned over and resumed his painting.

This time Hermione couldn't fall asleep.

The sure strokes she'd only felt before now drew her along the complicated patterns with her eyes. Sirius was totally focused, his blue-fire eyes moving with his hand and the long, silky strands of his hair drifting across her sensitive skin. The black ink gleamed in the candlelight and brought the flowing patterns to life. The swirls and arcs he painted writhed across her pale flesh and almost seemed to rise straight into the air. Sirius' attention to detail was astounding; each corner of her skin being treated with the same devotion and skill as every other.

Remus again began to read from his book, but one hand continued to twine through her curls and caress the sides of her face.

In the summer, you brought back beautiful gifts.
I wanted to give you some, but found only
The drifting sky.
Can you wear it?

The brush dipped along her side and her whole body trembled. Noticing her ticklishness, Sirius bent down and blew across the ink-lines around her ribs to dry them. Her back arched off the bed, but he pushed her firmly back down with one hand.

The brush wet once more, the older wizard didn't hesitate to draw a glimmering line up and across her breast, twisting it into the same careful manner as with which he'd treated the rest of her body. Her breath rose in heated puffs, stirring the incense in the air, and her fingers curled around great fistfuls of silk, but Sirius remained unwavering in his obsessive dedication.

The painting continued. Remus kept reading.

In the long rain, the roof tiles shine.
Two black birds wait, stiff as iron
I also wait, hoping only for you.

Hermione closed her eyes and continued her fitful struggles until Sirius finished with her chest and moved on to her shoulders, and then she lay panting against the hand that caressed her face now glowing with perspiration. As Sirius leaned closer over the work on her collarbone, she caught his lips with her own and kissed him hungrily. He nipped at her lower lip, but then Remus was reaching out and tenderly pulling her back against the pillow.

"Almost finished, pet," Sirius promised. Picking up her wrist he lifted her entire arm delicately into the air and favored her with a gliding of his fingers up and down the sensitive skin there before resuming his brushwork.

Ink coiled around and around her upper arm before spiraling in odd patterns around her elbow and becoming dotted pictures with short flicks of Sirius' brush. A thick band of black went around her wrist and then spidered out like cobwebs across the back of her hand and wrapping around her fingers. Then he moved to the other arm.

The wasp and its shadow climb the screen.
Cold winds shake the apple trees
Though the room is warm.
Winter comes closer.
Will you not do the same?

Twisting images like snakes across her skin, and she imagined that Remus' voice had been made to read poetry. She sighed – a bodily sigh that lifted her chest from the bed – and it was as though every thought was contained in that single billow of air.

As the ink dried upon her skin, Remus read his final poem.

After the rain,
Water dripping from branches
Like the beats of a heart.
I cupped my hands and drank
The water and all the images in it.
Why did I not see your face was missing?

Finally, after hours, their task was complete. The poetry was set aside and the inkwell and brush put safely away. Remus levitated his chair back into the corner and joined the pair on the bed, drawing a knee up to his chest. Sirius moved off to the side as well and for the first time since that morning, Hermione was able to properly stretch. And she did so with an audience.

Chestnut curls falling over her sienna eyes and white silk clutched in her hand, Hermione asked in a suddenly timid voice: "May I look?"

At Sirius' nod of approval she slipped off the edge of their bed and the ivory sheet, caught on her hips, went with her. So tangled was the silk around her legs that even though she picked up one of the edges it continued to impede her movement as she stopped in front of the full-length mirror.

A slender triangle of pale skin reached from its point at the tip of her navel up to her throat and the rest was a mass of black ink. The artistry was breath-taking, the perfection in each dot and line beautiful. Hermione thought herself exotic and untamed, hiding her exposed nakedness with striking markings that even snaked up the sides of her neck and sent out curling tendrils along her jaw. She looked so unlike herself that the image in the mirror enraptured her and she cautiously placed her fingertips upon the cool glass.

She hadn't realized; her hair now reached down to her breasts. Having told Sirius she preferred his hair long, she'd accepted the conditions of having to let hers grow as well; even Remus' hair now brushed his shoulders. She traced a single curl down over her breast and then continued to follow an ink path down her stomach in somewhat of a daze.


She jumped and the sheet began to slide down her legs but she caught it up in her arms quickly and held it to her chest as she faced the two men with wide eyes. Her twenty-three years seemed to melt away and she felt like the silly, insecure little seventeen year old girl that had first found solace in their arms.

They motioned her to the bed and she followed their instructions, slipping up onto the mattress between them. She lifted her wrist to the light and smiled bashfully at Sirius. "They're beautiful," she murmured shyly; still in wonder at the beautiful gift. "Thank you."

Remus' soft face was full of amusement as he brushed the curls off of her shoulder and nuzzled at her neck. "The lady seems quite smitten with you," he chuckled throatily from the smooth curve of her flesh.

Sirius smirked. "Who wouldn't be?"

Remus kissed along her jaw and sucked at her ear, wrapping an arm across her chest. His other hand came up to the back of her neck where his fingers twisted in her hairs and under his sensual ministrations Hermione gave in and her supple body relaxed beneath his hands.

Not to be left out, Sirius situated himself on her other side; actually picking up her arm and throwing it over his shoulder so that he might get closer. Holding her against him with an arm encircling her waist, he braced himself by a hand on her shoulder and brought his mouth down to her stomach. His tongue traced the ink designs, and it was as if he'd painted a map of her most sensitive spots. While she was still breathing heavily after her outcry, Sirius nudged Remus' forearm up higher and focused his attention upon her left breast. When she cried out again, Remus bit down upon her neck and brought a higher pitch to her pleasured screams.

Both men being substantially taller than she, they'd lifted her up on her knees and pinned her there between their bodies. The sheet was still knotted about her hips and tangled around her knees, but her bare calves and toes were visible; pressing into the mattress with each wave of pleasure that racked her suspended frame.

As her two lovers ravaged her body, Sirius' masterpiece proving a more than useful tool, Hermione realized her day off was going just as she'd planned after all...

1. All the poems were taken from the book The Snow Fox, it's lovely and you should go out and read it.