N/B: I have returned. I'm not going to go into a self pity rant about what happened in the time between my last update and now but I am back and will update my other stories soon. Sorry about that. Don't even ask where this story came from...although I am a little drunk so that might explain it :P

This was meant to be a one-shot that I had to get out of my system before I can get back to my other stories but it's now turned into a three part. Serious SB/HP smut in this so if you don't like, don't read :)

Forewarning, don't think too badly of Sirius in this, he's a tad confused about his feelings. :D

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot...don't sue.

Chapter 1:

Sirius wandered over to the wireless and tapped it with his wand, waiting until the smooth jazz sounds filled the room and pushed the rushing thoughts from his mind. Pouring a glass of Firewhiskey, he walked back to his seat in the dark kitchen; the flickering of flames the only light illuminating the room. He picked up the copy of the Daily Prophet that had been delivered that day and sighed deeply as the object of his thoughts appeared before him on the front page.

The-Boy-Who-Lived involved in recent Death Eater arrest

"Bollocks." He tossed the newspaper aside and leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes and letting the music flow over him while he finished the last of the amber liquid. Between the soft notes that eased into him, the hypnotic light and the strong alcohol, Sirius found himself dozing slightly, somewhere between sleep and awake.

He didn't know how much time had passed.

The fire was little more than a sprinkling of burning ash when Sirius heard the sharp knock at his door. He groaned heavily already knowing who his unexpected visitor was and yet he made no move to grant them entry. Instead, he sat at the worn table barely moving, staring into the dying embers until his vision became distorted and the only sound he could hear was the steady beat of his heart. And then, in the silence, he heard the sound of footsteps echoing through the empty hallway. For a brief moment he hoped that the blur of sandy hair and brown tweed that filled his peripheral vision was only a hallucination brought on by his drink-addled brain.

"I never knew you enjoyed jazz?" Remus chirped, cocking his ear to the softly playing music as he breezed into the room, a painfully cheerful smile in place. Sirius rolled his eyes. No such luck.

"Recent development" He responded finally, his eyes narrowed on the dish held with his friend's scarred and worn hands. "Let me guess, beef stew?"


"I don't want it." Sirius said, characteristically blunt. Remus just stared back at him, still smiling and silent. "Every time I sit down to get good and drunk, you appear with my dear cousin's cooking and we have a very meaningful conversation." Sirius smirked. "Quite frankly, I'd rather have my balls cut off with a dull knife then talk about my feelings."

"Thank you for that very graphic example, Padfoot." Remus said lightly, dropping into chair across from him and placing the casserole dish between them on the table. Accepting his fate, Sirius summoned a fork from the sink and speared a carrot from the luke-warm bowl and waited. As usual, it wasn't long before his old friend spoke without the usual preamble.

"Harry's worried about you." Remus began gently. Sirius focused on chewing his food, trying to ignore the dull stab of pain in his heart at the sound of his godson's name. "He doesn't say anything but I can tell. Frankly, I don't like the way you've been treating him."

"Stay the fuck out of it, Remus."

The inevitable arguments went back and forth yet even to Sirius' own ears it sounded…tired. It was a script they had rehearsed so many times before that, without fail, left Remus frustrated and Sirius filled with a guilt he was never free from.

"Sirius." Remus began in what Sirius liked to refer to as his "teacher-voice". He could almost imagine his old friend sitting behind his desk at Hogwarts, listening to whatever problems the next brat had divulged with the usual kindness and patience. "It's only natural for it to take time for you to settle into your life again-"

"I should be older than you." Sirius interrupted softly, still staring unseeingly into the dying fire, the food lying forgotten before him. "Three months, one week and five days. Instead, I'm eight years younger." He blinked and the world came back into focus with sudden clarity. He turned to his friend.

"What's natural about that?" He asked forcefully, ignoring the tense atmosphere that had surrounded them with the sudden turn in conversation. "What's dead should stay dead. When I fell through that Veil I should have stayed gone."

"You're thinking about this in the wrong way, Sirius. You were given a gift - a new chance at life. Don't throw that away out of guilt. You mean the world to Harry."

"He'll survive without me. He did before. The man he's become is…incredible." Sirius finished softly, hating the unveiled affection and admiration in this voice.

"Yes, he is." Remus agreed with a small smile. "Even I underestimated him. I couldn't be prouder of him for what he's done; the man he is but after you died Sirius, it was like a part of him left with you. He was never the same. I saw a part of that come back when you returned. And now, you're treating him like a stranger."

"And what if I've come back wrong somehow?" He saw Remus flinch at the coldness in his voice but he continued ruthlessly. "What if I'm wrong?"

"How could you be wrong? You've just been gone a long time, Padfoot. I'm sure it feels strange."

"You don't understand." Sirius snapped, jumping to his feet to pour himself another glass of Firewhiskey. "The things I want, what I feel since I came back…I can't" He finished lamely with a small shake of his head. He couldn't divulge his deepest, darkest desires; couldn't bear to see the disgust that would appear on his oldest friend's face when he said it aloud; couldn't admit the monster he had become. Instead he walked back to his seat and faced the other man, a smirk firmly in place. He knew this could only end one way-badly. It was up to him how badly it would end. He knew Remus well enough by now to know it was better to make a passing joke than to try and ignore his brief admission. "I think I've turned straight. I must have caught it from you."

"Sirius, that's not funny."

"It's a little bit funny." Sirius said with a small smile. Remus only stared back at him stonily, his eyes determined and unflinching.

"That is not what you meant, Sirius and you know it."

"Yes, well." Sirius said casually, emphasizing his words by waving his glass of whiskey. "I have an appointment that I can't miss so if you could make yourself scarce, I'd appreciate it."

Remus sighed disapprovingly. "Still sleeping your way through every man in London? Haven't you had enough?"

"How many times have I told you, Remus?" Sirius replied, getting to his feet and shoving his friend unceremoniously towards the fireplace. "There's no such thing. Now, why don't you scamper off home to your wife and son and leave me to my wicked ways?"

"Sirius, what you said-"

"Another time." Sirius said firmly. "Busy, busy."

Remus tilted his head and studied Sirius silently for a moment. "Maybe you should take some time and visit your godson. I know he'd give anything to see you."

"He has his little girlfriend and his friends and his perfect job to occupy him." Sirius said lightly, despite the pain in his gut at the thought. "I'm sure he barely even realises I'm gone."

He finished with a final shove towards the fireplace and finally Remus relented. With a wave of his hand in farewell, he was gone in a flash of green until all that was left in the kitchen was silence. Sirius moved back towards his seat with mixed emotions, his mind reeling over the events that had led him to this point as he awaited his "appointment."

Sirius Black had now resorted to paying for sex.

The thought of it was laughable from every imaginable angle but Sirius was not laughing. Instead he was filled with disgust at what he was about to do but he couldn't resist the temptation any longer. And so he had succumbed to the need that had plagued him since he re-entered this world. He only hoped he could live with the guilt that he was sure would come later.

It had been six months since Sirius had returned from the Veil with no memory but that of the fear in his godson's eyes as he fell. In a blink of an eye, eight years had past and the awkward teenager he had been ripped from had become a man, the war had ended and he was free. He should have been rejoicing but instead he had locked himself away in Grimmauld Place; away from the one person who meant everything to him.

Sirius shook his head and looked to the grandfather clock that towered in the far corner of the room. Ten minutes. It seemed like every minute was ticking by in a second and yet, at the same time, it felt like an eternity. His hands shook slightly as he poured himself another glass of whiskey, trying to calm the nervous anticipation by reminding himself that he would come soon enough.

'Never." A voice in his head said mockingly. 'He's not the one you want.'

Heart pounding, Sirius turned his head sharply towards the fireplace as the flames grew large and turned green. The man who walked out of the grate looked like he had barely turned twenty. He had blond hair, brown eyes and was shorter in stature than he had been expecting but then again, only one man would satisfy Sirius' expectations. And this was not him.

"You're late." Sirius said bluntly, internally grateful that his voice did not reflect his nervousness. "Don't let it happen again."

"Sorry." The boy said awkwardly, shuffling from one foot to another as Sirius studied him in silence. He straightened suddenly, filled with a youthful arrogance that Sirius had so commonly used when he was teenager. "So do you approve of me?"

"Not quite." Reaching into his breast pocket, Sirius withdrew the small flask and pushed it towards the other man. "Polyjuice potion." He explained simply. "Your agency assured me that it wasn't a problem."

"Oh, not at all." He replied, lifting the flask in his hand and peering into the bright gold mixture. "We do it all the time."

"Good." Sirius said softly, draining the end of his glass and reaching for the bottle with his empty hand. "There is enough there to last a few hours a night, for a week and exactly a week so don't even think about selling any of it down Knockturn Alley or I will see that you spend the rest of your life in a dark, dank cell. Understood?"

"Loud and clear." The boy replied. "Nothing is more important to me than my client's privacy."

"Glad to hear it." Sirius replied dryly before he turned and stared into the dying fire. "I expect you here every night at eight, not a minute later. You'll get paid the agreed amount before anything happens and at the end of the week, we'll discuss any further business. Agreed?"


A shiver race down his spine at the rough and husky voice that reached his ears and he knew without turning around that the polyjuice potion had taken affect. Sirius gritted his teeth in an effort to regain some sort of control but he could feel his breathing begin to accelerate at the scent and nearness that assailed him. Turning on his heel, Sirius' gray eyes locked with the bright emerald of his godson for the first time in over a month.

"Harry…" He whispered, reaching out a trembling hand to stroke his cheek. He couldn't deny the throb in his blood and his cock at the sight of his godson, or the sultry hungry look that had appeared in his eyes but some part of his conscience was screaming at him to stop before he crossed this line. If he did, he could never turn back. Did he really want this?

"Fuck yes!" His mind screamed. Sirius had wanted this from the day he had held his godson in his arms for the first time and marveled at the man he had become, no longer the boy he had left behind. Tilting his head, Sirius allowed himself to study the features of the man before him without fear of rejection or reproach. The skin beneath his fingertips was still as pale as it had been as a teenager; his eyes still as large and bright but he no longer held that youthful appearance that Sirius remembered. His features were sharper, more pronounced and his jaw was almost permanently covered in a light stubble. His body had filled out over the years of training and working as an Auror and he had grown to almost the same height as Sirius.

Sirius didn't realize how long he stood there, drinking in the sight of the man he had wanted more than he had been able to admit, even to himself but the slow, carnal smile that appeared on Harry's lips brought him back to the reality of the situation.

"I want you." Harry whispered softly as he closed the distance between them. Sirius was sure if his heart were to beat any faster it would break his chest. After months, the soft words that were being whispered in the secrecy of the night were real and, for a moment, Sirius allowed himself to fall into fantasy. "I want you inside me."

Sirius' fingers began to move of their own volition as his thumb stroked along his lower lip before burying them deep with the dark mop of hair that fell across his forehead. The younger man moved again until his mouth was only a breath away. Sirius clenched the hair within his hand sharply, halting Harry's progress.

"Stop." He whispered softly, turning his head to the side before Harry's lips could connect with his. That was one intimacy he couldn't explore with this imposter, as strange as it seemed.

"Don't you want to kiss me?"

Without answering, Sirius turned him until the strong warmth of Harry's back was flush against his chest. Burying his nose in the soft hair, he inhaled deeply before he moved his lips along the curve of his neck, leaving a trail of wetness in its wake. Sirius moved his hand down the firm chest and stomach, enjoying the tensing of muscles beneath the thin material of his shirt, until he reached his belt. With quick, deft motions his trousers were released. Sirius' fingers reached into the band of his clothing and curling around Harry's impressive length, feeling him pulse within his grasp. Closing his eyes, Sirius reveled in the shiver and soft moan that assaulted the smaller man in his arms, a painful throb spreading through his chest as he finally realized the strength of his own feelings.

Cursing himself in every language known to him, Sirius tilted his head until his lips found the curve of Harry's ear and in the darkness, he confessed the one thing he could never admit to anyone but this imposter, praying that one day these demons would leave him.

"I love you, Harry."

N/B: So just to recap incase you're confused...don't blame you, I am drunk :P This is post book seven. Remus and Tonks didn't die and eight years after Sirius fell through the Veil, he fell out again (ignoring the "no magic can reawaken the dead stuff") Harry is now 22 and Sirius has lusted after him since he returned. Everything else happened exactly the way we read it...oh and Sirius is gay. Yeah, I know...I think I just came up with this crap plot as an excuse to write Sirius/Harry smut in my drunken state. Way underrated couple by the way. I have come to love them together :P

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