Alpha Male
by Laura Smith

It's dark and I know I shouldn't be here. I can feel the walls of the castle breathing around me, whispering warnings then laughing as if they know as well as I that I'm not going to listen. The night is dark; the moon disappeared in a clear sky. My skin itches inside my clothes, beneath my robes. It's like it burns and breathes along with me, emotions pulsing beneath my flesh, beating at me trying to burst forth.

I feel the hand grab me before I sense it, strange given my nature, but I think I'm too busy suffocating in my own feelings to heed anything else. Before I can process anything, before I can breathe or scream or react, there's a hard body pressed against mine, a leg between both of mine, a mouth angled over mine, a tongue dominating mine.

I groan and growl at the same time, the wolf inside me alive and hungry even though the moon has slipped off to slumber again. I can feel the wildness in my blood, the very lack of control that I struggle so hard to hide, wending its way through me. I can feel it in the racing of my heart, the pounding of my blood, the pulsing of my cock.

My hands snake around the slim hips to curve over the smooth, taut ass, needing less distance. The mouth over mine lifts in a gasp and suddenly I'm in control and, for all his self-assured bravado, I know that James is almost scared. Scared because he doesn't know how far he's pushed me this time, scared because he can see my eyes flash in the darkness and knows that it's not going to end in some joking manner tonight, scared because the knowledge of that excites him.

I can smell it in the air, thick and cloying, fear and lust and need all boiled up in a ripe stench that flares my nostrils and brings a low rumbling growl to the base of my throat. He's eyeing me with trepidation as he backs away, hands held up in surrender, though he keeps his eyes firmly on mine. He may want to give in, but he's going to make me fight for it.

I grin and it's as if I can feel the fangs curling hard against my lips, the skin stretching tightly over expanding bone. I approach him, not letting him put distance between us, my voice throaty and low, powerful in the small corridor he's trapped us in. Trapped himself in.

"What's the matter, Prongs? Expecting someone else?"

He starts to respond then thinks better of it, knowing his most likely response is liable to trigger an even more visceral reaction in me. I almost will him to say it, wanting him to tell me he thought I was Sirius so I can lunge at him and pin him to the brick, shove my hands through his messy locks and hold him there until he wants me so badly he can barely breathe.

"I didn't think you'd follow me."

"You thought I'd go after Peter?" I keep advancing even though his back's against he wall now, rough rock palely gray behind him. "He's always been cannon fodder for you and Sirius. I knew better than to chase the bait." I lick my lips and watch his eyes follow my tongue. "It's much more fun to wait until the hunter returns to the trap to see what he's caught."

"And have I?" His voice wavers, the only outward sign of his discomfort as I move near enough to touch him. "Caught you?"

I smile and it's pure animal, the grin stretching my face so much it hurts. I lick my teeth and hiss in a breath, watching his body tremble. I move even closer, his personal space a thing of the past. The odor is overwhelming and I want to bury my head against him, inhale him and live off the emotions for hours, howling to the non-existent moon, hunting, prowling, fucking. "What do you think?"

"I think this was just a friendly gag that went a little too far," he starts and fades away, his eyes back on mine. The gesture elicits another growl I can't quite control and I bare my teeth again, edging even closer. My leg is now between both of his, my body leaning forward, leaning hard. His chest is rising and falling rapidly, every breath sucked deep and shallow all at once, frustrated panting.

I lift my thigh slightly and press it against his cock, my eyelids drooping but not closing, the howl of triumph choking me as his drift closed and he bears down against me.

Submission is an invigorating thing.

I press one hand to his chest, the other against the wall beside his head, holding him there, my thumb hooked into the back of his robe. He thrusts against my leg, hips angling toward mine and I ignore him, waiting until he opens his eyes again, looks up at me and tries to drown me in the ocean of his emotion. Once he does, I lean in and lick his lips, taste him.

Everyone has a distinctive taste, a distinctive smell. Emotions change it, add potency, pungency. James, when he kissed me, tasted of coffee and butterbeer, chocolate and hickory smoke. James, when being kissed, is more primal, less surface. He tastes like innocence and fear and desire and want and need. I lap at his tongue, savoring every flavor.

He shudders and leans into me, his mouth opening clumsily, hungrily. He catches my tongue and sucks it into the heat between his lips, teeth grazing the sensitive surface. His hands hover over my robes then settle on them, rubbing in curious circles as I let my own hand slide down his chest to the buckle of his belt, long fingers hanging over the silver plate to tap gently on the rough denim.

"Remus," he breaks the kiss and pants my name, the begging sounding good to my ears, bleeding past the high keening senses that have narrowed everything down to their basest elements. My mind is beyond rational thought, the scene unfolding before me in urgent verbs.

Want. Need. Now. Fuck. Taste. Bite. Lick. Take. Now. Need. Mine.

I catch James's hands in a flurry of motion and twist them behind his back, pulling him away from the wall and thrusting him against me. Words are lost in the miasma of my mind and I simply apply the pressure without thought, driving him down to his knees. He moans weakly and sinks willingly, his eyes locked on my cock as it strains against my own pants, the material stretched tight.

Intellectually, humanly, I know he's never done this before. I should care, but the heat in his eyes is enough answer for the wolf to release him, let his shaking hands caress me through my pants, fumble awkwardly with my belt and zipper. My own desire is barely held in check as he finally frees me from my boxers, his eyes lifting up to mine for permission before he lowers them, lowers his mouth around my aching cock.

I let my head fall back, my too-long shaggy hair falling down my collar. I don't care that he's unsure of what he's doing, his knowledge of a blow job no doubt coming from the receiving end, but he's struggling valiantly, my own thrusting hips making it more difficult. With a soft rumble of frustration, I grab the back of his head and hold him still, hold him captive as I rock my hips, thrusting in and out of his mouth until he begins to follow my rhythm, his lips tightening around me, the light suction growing firmer as his hand snakes down between his own legs, his fingers sliding his zipper down then slipping through the opening.

His low whimper glides along my skin and I release his hair, closing my eyes and giving myself over to the now of the moment. Emotions roil in my groin, in my stomach, never reaching higher, settling somewhere in my blood.

Want. Fuck. Need. Now. Push. Thrust. Howl. Run. Fuck. Thrust. Grind. Pound. Rut. Grunt. Groan. Come.

I shove James away, both of us panting hard, the room alive with the sound. Sweat hangs in the air and he stares up at me, a real fear in his eyes. He licks his lips on instinct and I can see that he's managed to wrest his jeans open, his boxers shoved down beneath his cock. The head is flushed dark, glistening in the dim light coming from somewhere, blood pounding through it. He drops his gaze to it then lifts his eyes back to mine, his body shuddering, his cock twitching. "I should…"

I move with speed he's probably unaware that I can possess and lift him, turning him all in one smooth movement. I stop short of slamming him against the wall, my free hand sliding around him, around his cock, cradling him as I press my chest to his back. I feel his breathing hitch and know, without a doubt, that he's mine for the asking. For the taking.

My hand stays around his cock, stroking it slowly, fighting the need to spill his seed all over the walls, to smell it in the air, to see it lie wasted on the ground. Survival and dominance echo inside my head and the wolf beats at my skull, demanding to be the ruling male, the leader, the sire. My other hand obeys it, stripping James's jeans down his body, running over his pale, bare flesh. His ass is as tight as it should be, hours and hours on the broom honing it to muscular perfection. He has the same kind of wiry strength that most of us do, but his is less hidden by Sirius's sharp angles and more by slightly muscled flesh.

The wolf is held at bay as I skim my fingers along the crevice of his ass, stroking him gently. The pounding pulse of thought still beats inside my head, but I push it back, more man now that my prey is captured, willing to be toyed with.

James is tense in my grip, his ass clenching with every touch, but his cock reacts the opposite, sliding along my palm anxiously. I continue stroking him and move the other hand away, slipping a finger between my lips and wetting it before pressing it to the puckered aperture. He gasps and moans all at once, falling forward, barely catching himself with his arms in time to keep from crashing into the wall.

I release his cock with a rumbling growl of satisfaction, his new stance angling him away from me, spreading his legs slightly. His body is still tight, tense, wary but the filtered light falls over his skin in hushed stillness and my senses take over. I wet my finger again and press it against him, pushing past the initial resistance.

James sucks in air and I wonder how it tastes to him, if he can feel his own desire rolling on his tongue, if he can separate it from mine. My cock aches, strains toward him and I fight the urge to mount him, pushing down the wolf as I push my finger farther. He resists, his breath now coming in rough trembles, his whole body shaking. I start murmuring softly, soothingly, nonsense words that seem to comfort him as my finger moves further, filling him.

I've only ever had sex with two people before. One was a neighbor when we'd both just turned sixteen. She was a Muggle and just as hot, sweet and wet as I could imagine anyone could be. Her body clung to me in hot waves, her own excitement making the first slide inside her simple, easy, natural.

With Sirius, he always offers himself to me, backing up on his hands and knees, his head bowed. He evokes the wolf inside me, the tip of his cock dragging on the duvet as he supplicates himself, his ass high in the air; always already slick with the warm liquid he hides in his trunk.

My finger presses against the tight walls of James's ass and I growl in frustration. I fumble for my wand then remember what got us here, in this place. James's is somewhere in the robes that I've shoved up over the curve of his ass and I reach for it with my free hand, my palm slick and sticky with his pre-come.

I find it and handle the unfamiliar smooth length, the parallels not lost despite the dominant wolf in my head. I mutter the spell I'd learned from watching two Slytherins fuck in the restricted area of the library late at night and smile as warm heat pools in the cleft of James's ass.

He shudders again and tries to force his legs wider apart despite the jeans that are holding his ankles captive. I smooth the liquid inside him, two fingers thrusting now, moving faster, deeper. James is suddenly gasping, begging; his breath filling the room as the overwhelming scent of his threatening orgasm drives the wolf inside me inside him.

I free my fingers and press my cock to his ass, sliding it through the warm liquid before pressing the tip against him and pushing forward. He stills then trembles fiercely, giving in completely as he bows his head against the stone wall, one hand curled into a fist against it, the other stroking his cock as I begin to rock inside him.

He's tight and hot and I curse the clothes I've left on him. I want to taste his flesh, suck the scent of him off of his body, lick him and mark him in saliva as my own. I grab his hips, my fingers hard and forceful, pulling him back against me with every forward thrust, grunting hungrily as I drive myself deeper.

Suddenly James is gasping, coming and the wolf awakes in full-force, blood calling out. I give up control, knowing that fighting it won't work, letting a low, soft cry loose as I press him forward, pistoning inside him. His hand is still moving over his cock, his come in a pool on the floor and I can smell it and taste it on the air so thickly that my head swims.

Fuck. Mine. Want. Need. Have. Fuck. Come. Taste. Bite. Lick. Fuck. Deep. Fuck. Hard. Fuck. Mine. Mine. Mine. Come.

I howl, unable to help myself, as I come inside him, my hips jerking in an ancient rhythm of release. The sound is human despite the ruling force in my head and doesn't carry beyond the room. James is stroking his cock furiously and I can taste the frustration as my pressure against his prostate has giving him another aching erection, taste the salt of his embarrassed tears.

I pull away slowly, sucking in air, wishing I could filter out the smells and just breathe something clean and fresh, just revive. James is panting and turns slowly, his cock still mostly erect, his eyes searching mine. I know what they look like, burning amber in the darkness, the wolf pacing in their golden depths.

He squats down; picking up his wand from where it had clattered to the floor from my hand, unnecessary once it had completed its task. I straighten my boxers, pulling them up over my cock, still semi-erect as well, then close my pants, my eyes moving over his body stealthily.

James starts to lick his lips then stops, obviously nervous about provoking me. When I raise a questioning eyebrow, he completes the gesture, his parted lips glistening with saliva. His throat is dry, his pulse is slowing, his body beginning to assert itself again, no longer cowed by a greater force. I smile slowly, ferally, and take a step closer. His cock jumps in anticipation and his shoulders hunch slightly. "You're okay?" I ask it like a question, but my voice carries it like a command, a statement.

James nods and lowers his eyes, the action most likely subconscious. Humans are not so far removed that the reptile brain doesn't remember the rules of the wild. He shifts uncomfortably and I smile, a real smile this time. "You're okay?"

He nods again and grins at me, embarrassed and spent and still half naked.

"Maybe you should get dressed then, hmm?"

James's hazel eyes spark with laughter and he fumbles with his clothes. He's almost finished dressing when Sirius and Peter stumble around the corner, obviously wondering where we are, what I've done to James.

I had sensed them coming and said nothing, their earlier practical joke that tried to hide an attempt at getting me to reconcile with Sirius still rankling in my brain. Fury still flooded through me when I saw Sirius and earlier was no exception. Neither is now.

His nose moves, twitches, flares. He can smell it all in the room. Peter sees nothing, Sirius everything. He growls low in his throat and I smile. His eyes dart to James who is busy talking to Peter, then back to me. I meet them defiantly. I dare him to say something, do something to break our fragile friendships even further.

He turns from me to James and they start walking back toward Gryffindor, leaving me behind. James is in front, and we all fall in line. I can't keep from smiling, though. James and Sirius may both be in front of me, but all three of us know that I'm the leader of the pack.


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