InsaneJournal

Of Man and Nature

                This was worth the risk. It was worth the risk ten times over. He was dressed like a Muggle (albeit a bit eccentrically), reading an old novel, glancing up from time to time at his dog.

                "My, that's a big one. Is he safe?" said the mother next to him tentatively. He turned to her and smiled.

                "Yes. Quite safe. He's good with children, too. He just hasn't been out in a while, so he's a bit excitable. His name is Snuffles," he added.

                "Snuffles! That's a great name, mum!" said the little boy.

                Albus whistled, calling Sirius over. "Pet him, if you'd like." The smiling, panting dog was large, but looked quite friendly. Tentatively, the boy patted it on the head. It pushed into the touch, encouraging him, and he smiled. "Will he run with me?"

                "Try it and see," said Albus, returning to his book. Yes, Snuffles was up for another run. And, yes, he was good with children. And, yes, he was enjoying himself, because, yes, he'd missed nature.

                "Don't breathe a word to the others," he said as they left the park, and Sirius barked once in reply.

                Albus looked down at the scruffy dog in silence, saddened for a moment. This was probably the last time the man would be outside of Grimmauld for a very, very long time. He made a detour all of a sudden. The dog whined, as if to point out his mistake.

                "Let's go visit Mrs. Figg," said Albus. The dog whined again, but he ignored it.

                "Albus! What a surprise. But . . . what is he doing outside Headquarters? You won't chase the cats, will you?" she said warningly. Sirius barked indignantly.

                "Well, alright, then, come on in." She closed the door behind them. "Tea, dears?"

                "No, actually," said Albus. "Just give us use of your back yard for a bit."

                "Is he going to roll through my begonias?" she demanded.

                "No, no! Arabella, this is Sirius. He's not really a dog."

                "I know. It's more the fact that he's Sirius Black, actually."

                Albus grinned. "Point taken. Now, may we have, say, an hour or so in your back yard?"

                "Just put up the proper spells," she said after a moment, sighing. "Really, Albus. If the neighbors only knew . . . ." She tried to sound exasperated, and failed.

                "Which is much the point—I won't let them know. Come, Snuffles." He moved into the back yard, casting a spell around it to hide their actions from prying eyes—even Arabella's. Then he cast a Silencing Barrier around the area, temporarily. "You can change back now, Sirius," he said.

                Sirius was practically panting—and not because of exercise. There was a stunning garden and four large trees, including an oak, two maples, and a lovely willow. The grass was lush and green and smelled wonderful. His knees felt weak. He leaned against Albus for a moment, grasping at his sleeve.

                "I take it you approve."

                "Shut up."

                "Would you like to be taken here in the grass?"

                Sirius's heart stopped for a moment. Then he was ripping his own robes off, literally tackling Albus to the grass.

                "Careful with these old bones," said Albus, but he was smiling softly, appreciating the other man's enthusiasm.

                "Get out of those fucking clothes now," hissed Sirius, undoing the buttons of the shirt with a wave of his wand, then descending his touch to the man's waist, unhooking his trousers and yanking them down with a scarcely-seen ferocity. "And if you don't pin me to a tree, I'm going to hex your bollocks off," he said, snarling.

                "I should have thought of this before," said Albus amusedly. He helped Sirius slide off his pants, kicking off his shoes. "Go choose a tree, my dear."

                Sirius stood, shakily, taking his own shoes and socks off, as well as his pants. He chose the larger maple tree, shivering in anticipation as he leaned against it.

                Albus brought only his wand over with him, carefully Conjuring some lubricant. He poured it over himself copiously, but did nothing to stretch the man. "Turn around," he said, and Sirius complied with dark, desiring eyes. He leaned in, an arm on either side of the man, kissing him, for a moment. Sirius whined in protest. Albus pulled away after a moment. "I know how you want it," he admitted, reaching up to stroke his cheek. And then he smacked him.

                "Yes, Albus," said Sirius, leaning in for a kiss now himself. His cheek pinked wonderfully.

                "It's time," Albus said, grasping Sirius by the thighs. He held him up, still pressing him against the tree. Then he slid inside, inch by agonizing inch, stretching Sirius almost unbearably.

                Sirius moaned and sent his arms back behind him, locking them around the trunk of the tree.

                "Can you smell the flowers?" Albus gritted out, leaning in to nuzzle at his neck as he held still.

                "Yes," moaned Sirius.

                "Can you feel . . . the tree? Solid and real?"

                He gasped, trying to adjust to the intrusion. "Oh Merlin, yes, so real . . . ."

                "Feel . . . the pain?" He began to move, thrusting in and out carefully, but firmly.

                "Albus!" Sirius moaned, neck exposed wonderfully as he threw his head back. "Albus, guh, please!"

                Albus's fingers tightened on his thighs and he began to thrust into him in earnest, reveling in the short, sharp cries he drew.

                The bark dug into Sirius's bare back and his arms were getting tired of the position, but everything was absolutely. Bloody. Perfect. "A-Albus," he moaned again, biting at his lip, moving his hips best he could to meet the man.

                Albus began to thrust into him furiously, without mercy, grasping the cheeks of his arse to pull him even farther from the tree. "Too . . . thin," he remarked, squeezing his arse to draw a cry from him.

                "Too strong," Sirius countered, parting his legs even wider, trying to pull the man into him even more.

                The clouds covered up the sun for a moment, and Albus moaned, grunting with each thrust, fingers tightening into angry claws, thrusts punishing.

                "Fuck!" moaned Sirius. "Oh . . . fuck, fuck! Merlin!" He was so, so fucking close . . . .

The sun reemerged and shone in his eyes again, making him squint them together tightly once more. He moaned, squirming. Albus growled and moved his hands back down to his thighs, parting them even more, until he was afraid they might never come together again. "Sirius," Albus snarled, and the emotion in it, the anger, had Sirius coming right away, so hard it left him shaking. His grip loosened and he threatened to fall from the tree, and would if he let go.

"Hold on," Albus growled, "Don't you dare let go!"

Sirius groaned, trying to use what strength remained in him to continue to hold on, despite that he was getting tired.

"Nature . . . suits you," groaned Albus, pouring himself into Sirius's battered arse. He gripped him tightly, holding him. After a long moment, he slowly eased Sirius down.

"You can let go now, Sirius," he said, stepping away for a moment, but close enough to catch him should the need arise.

Slowly, as if in a daze, Sirius complied, leaning against the tree, staring at him.

"It can't happen again."

"I know. Thank you," he said gruffly, fighting the urge to cry.

"Come here," said Albus, and he opened his arms. Naked, they held each other, Sirius clinging to him rather desperately. "So you enjoyed your walk?"

"Yes."

"And you'll stay in Grimmauld?"

Sirius gripped at him, burying his face in his long, silver beard. "I'll try," he muttered.

"I suppose that's all anyone can ask," said Albus after a moment. "Well, let's make ourselves presentable."

They dressed, thanked Mrs. Figg, and made their way back to Grimmauld Place. Albus checked for damage on his body, cleaning the wounds from the bark on his back. He was about to heal them when Sirius cried out for him to stop.

"Don't take them away from me, you bastard," he said.

"I won't," said Albus. He pocketed his wand and held him close, running fingers over the marks.

"Good." Sirius seemed to relax. "Is there a way to make sure they scar?"

Albus pulled his wand out again.