Used To
Kingsley likes to fuck face-to-face, slow, with lots of kissing.
Remus is used to hard and fast, used to bending Sirius over a desk and fucking quickly, in and out before anyone discovered them, before Kreacher or Mrs. Black set up a fuss, or Molly Weasley had hysterics about exposing her dear children to perverts and shirt-lifters.
Before they said anything they might regret.
Now Remus and Kingsley fuck at Kingsley's flat, all day and all night if they like, whenever Kingsley's not on duty, and Remus thinks he may have a surfeit of it. He's unused to plenty and doesn't trust it to last.
Kingsley is bald and beautiful, his body hard from working and working out, muscles sliding like light under water beneath smooth skin the color of Remus's favorite chocolate.
Remus had got used to Sirius's wasted grandeur, to tangling his hands in long black hair, to the ropy feel of Sirius's muscles against the palms of his hands and the dry, tight skin pulling over Sirius's perfect bones.
Kingsley is honey-voiced and kind.
Remus is used to decoding affection from the jumbled obscenities Sirius muttered as they fucked; he is used to deflecting Sirius's unthinking cruelties toward him and others as a matter of course, the habit of a lifetime.
Kingsley is everything he should want, but Remus thinks he'll never get used to him.