"I did," Sirius said, lifting his arm to display the lump in his sleeve where he'd rolled up the box.
"And that took you two hours?"
"Don't be daft, Moony. It took me five minutes." Sirius cocked his head and studied the bike's engine, leaning in close to wipe away a bit of grease with the tip of his finger. "She was flying a bit choppy, so I figured I'd re-apply the charms." He glanced over his shoulder and gave Remus an impish smile as he hefted the grease gun in his hands. Greenish-black streaks decorated both cheeks, as well as the point of his nose.
Remus propped his shoulder against a nearby tree trunk and shoved his hands into the pockets of his running shorts. He looked on, bemused, as Sirius pointed the gun at something mysterious in the bike's engine; a moment later, a dollop of charmed grease oozed over the part in question, and Sirius moved on to the next, whistling to himself as he worked. A damp inverted triangle stained the back of Sirius's T-shirt, testament to the length of time he'd been sitting in the hot summer sun, as was the sweat-soaked bandana he'd tied around his forehead. Peeking out from beneath the ends of his hair, Remus could see the small platinum dog-tag Sirius wore as a joke; he must have tossed the chain over his shoulder so the tag didn't get caught in the machinery.
Remus shifted, fingers worrying the small hole in the bottom of one of his pockets as Sirius's shoulder blades rolled beneath his T-shirt. A droplet of sweat tickled its way down between his pectorals.
"Didn't you hear me come back?" Sirius said out of the blue, and Remus started.
"No. I must have been in the shower. The heat..." His voice trailed off.
"Ah. So that's why you're running around half-naked." Sirius flashed him another cheeky grin. Remus's heart skipped a beat. He swallowed against the dry patch that rose unbidden in his throat, casting about for something to say, but Sirius saved him the trouble. "Hand me that wrench, would you, Moony?" he said, gesturing vaguely toward a pile of tools lying just out of his reach.
"Yeah. Sure." Remus's head was swimming as he pushed off from the tree and took an unsteady step forward. Sirius was craning his neck now, peering up at the underside of the engine, and Remus could see the outline of his shoulder and the straining cords lining the column of his throat glistening with perspiration in the sunlight. His breath suddenly sounded far too loud to his own ears. Warmth blossomed between his legs that had nothing to do with the heat.
Remus bent gingerly to retrieve the wrench and pressed it into Sirius's hand. They were so close now that he could smell the musky scent of his lover's moist skin, and the tree he'd been leaning against seemed much too far away for him to return. He settled on the seat of the bike, instead, and hoisted it upwards so it was no longer resting on its kickstand. Sirius glanced up with puzzled eyes. "Am I in your way?" Remus said, his voice husky.
"No. Just hold it steady for a minute." Sirius ducked his head and manipulated the wrench, and Remus gripped the handlebars to keep the bike from swaying. "That ought to do it." Sirius dropped the wrench to the pavement with a clatter and stood up, smiling. He pulled a filthy rag from the back pocket of his jeans and smeared the grease around on his hands a bit, then raised one arm to blot the sweat from his face with his sleeve. Remus could hear the stubble on his chin rasping against the fabric. Sirius's jeans hung low on his hips, exposing a strip of his heavily-muscled abdomen and the leading edge of the trail of dark hair that disappeared beneath his waistband. The warmth Remus felt between his legs turned to a steady pulse with each beat of his quickening heart.
Sirius turned around and bent to retrieve his Zippo, and Remus laughed. "Gods, Sirius, what'd you do? Sit in a puddle of grease?"
Sirius's hand flashed to the seat of his jeans, and he grimaced. "Looks like," he said, wiping his fingers clean on his thigh.
Remus shook his head. "You're such a slob."
"Maybe. But I'm also one hell of a mechanic. Listen to this engine." Sirius threw one leg over the seat and hovered in front of Remus, kick-starting the bike in one fluid motion. The engine roared to life, and he sat down in front of Remus, cranking something on the handlebars that made the engine rev. "Beautiful, isn't it?" he called over his shoulder, his voice bubbling with laughter.
"It is, indeed," Remus said, shifting forward on the seat so his erection pressed against the small of Sirius's back. He wrapped his arms around Sirius's waist and pressed his bare chest into the sweaty T-shirt. The bike's vibrations were shooting through his balls, and he couldn't help but jerk his hips.
"Moony..." Sirius said, as Remus's questing fingers crawled beneath his T-shirt and honed in on his nipples. "Why do I get the feeling we're not talking about the same thing, here?"
"Shut up, Padfoot." Remus fumbled at the waistband of his shorts and pulled his erection loose. The head was already wet, and he panted as he used it to trace a pattern on Sirius's lower vertebrae. "I want to fuck you," he murmured in Sirius's ear, just loud enough to be heard over the throb of the engine. "Right here, Sirius. Can you imagine it? My cock crammed in that beautiful arse of yours while you steer us through the streets of London?"
"Gods, Moony..." Sirius let go of the handlebars and reached back to grasp the outside of Remus's thighs.
"No," Remus growled. "Put your hands back up there, and don’t take them off again. That's it. Now. Here's what I want you to do. Stand up."
Sirius rose, one foot on the ground on either side of the motorcycle, and Remus maneuvered his shorts down until the elastic was tucked behind his balls. A circle of grease marked the seat where Sirius had been sitting, and Remus pressed his cock into the middle of it, so it was jutting out in front of him. "Okay, come on down here now. Slowly. I'll tell you when to stop."
Sirius lowered himself again until the seam between his legs was pinning Remus's cock. "Stop!" Remus barked, closing his eyes. "Oh yes. That's got it." He pumped his hips forward, sliding his prick between Sirius's legs. It wasn't nearly as tight a fit as his lover's arse, but between the friction on the top side of his cock and the vibrations below, Remus felt like his head might explode.
He rested his hands on Sirius's quivering thighs and rocked himself back and forth, back and forth, the entire bike moving with him as he bucked. Sweat poured down his flanks and his inner thighs squealed on the seat, but he barely noticed. "Wish I was fucking you, wish I was fucking you," he chanted, sliding one hand forward to cup the bulge between Sirius's legs, squeezing it in rhythm with his thrusts. He could feel the head of his cock brush his own fingers with every forward stroke; the motor's vibrations echoed in his fingertips and added another tantalizing source of stimulation. It was delicious. One of the most amazing sensations Remus had ever felt.
But it still wasn't quite enough.
"Dance for me, Sirius," he said roughly, giving his lover's nipple a sharp tweak, and Sirius immediately began to wriggle. He tossed his head back until it was resting on Remus's shoulder and ground his hips so the grease-stained seat of his jeans rubbed circles on the purpling head of Remus's cock. "Oh yes. Oh gods. Just like that. Oh..." Remus swallowed hard and shoved himself forward one last time, the head of his cock swelling as he came hard, spurting long white jets on the bike's black seat. He hunched forward and collapsed, blinking the sweat out of his eyes as his heart pounded a wild tattoo against Sirius's spine.
Remus's chest was still heaving when Sirius cut the engine and hopped off the seat. "Come on, Moony," he said, his voice like running footsteps on gravel as Remus blinked in the overly bright sunshine. "Upstairs. You've had your ride, now it's time for mine."