Entry tags:

fic, remus/sirius/harry/draco, smut, threesomes

Fic: The Little Firewhiskey That Could, S/R/H/D, NC-17
Um, ok, first, a few notes to kungfooqueen ♥:

1. Omg I am sorry this is so long! I don't know what happened. I know you don't have lots of time to sit around reading fic right now, so don't feel stressed like you have to, ok? OKAY!
2. I was pretty sure you liked H/D and S/R, so I thought the best bet might just be a combination! + toppy!Draco, which I normally don't do!

Title: The Little Firewhiskey That Could
Author: foreword
Disclaimer: Clearly this is not approved by JKR, as I have cleanly massacred canon.
Pairing: Sirius/Remus/Harry/Draco, established H/D, established S/R, visually H/D/H/D
Rating: Very much NC-17, thanks!
Summary: Harry wakes up to discover that Draco has prepared quite the birthday extravaganza.
Warnings: Questionable uses of alcohol and polyjuice!
A/N: A belated birthday present for kungfooqueen! ♥

Sirius is alive here. Basically this is incorporating all known canon except that pesky bit about the veil in book 5, okay? I would also ask you to overlook the fast development of H/D as they are hormonal teenagers living together, thanks.

Many thanks to the lovely incognito for the beta! ♥

***

Harry didn't appreciate the expression on Draco's face that morning.

He'd awoken with a sharp elbow to the ribs and, after fumbling for his glasses and glowering at Draco's blurry form, he was surprised to find such a cheerful, almost manic, Draco peering down at him.

"Time for breakfast, Potter. Black and the werewolf will be waiting on us."

Harry scowled at this, not at all trusting Draco's sudden, seemingly unprovoked decision that they should let their sleep be interrupted by the early dining whims of Sirius and Remus.

"No, they won't. They won't expect to see you until sometime around midday, I'm sure."

Draco frowned but shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets (also unusual, Harry observed), and moved to the door, pausing to glance back over his shoulder at Harry.

"Come on, Potter. Don't you know what day it is?"

Harry blinked, realisation slowly dawning on him, but doing nothing to alleviate his surprise. The past month had passed in such a blur. He'd moved into Number 12 Grimmauld Place with Remus and Sirius and had found Draco already there, in his and Ron's old room, acting like he belonged there, somehow.

Mrs. Black's portrait never screamed at Draco.

Any pity he'd felt for the blond boy had melted away in the face of the irritation Draco caused him once they'd started sharing the same living space. Apparently Snape had come to the Order with some sob story or another and they had accepted him, along with his obnoxious charge.

Harry couldn't even associate the smug, prattish boy with the one he'd found crying in the bathroom only a few months before.

But it had not been without reason, and it wasn't long before they'd come to blows… and then… blows.

Remus hadn't even had the grace to look surprised, and Sirius pretended not to know. But Harry knew. He caught Sirius watching them, sometimes, when Draco would presumptuously molest him in the kitchen, or Harry would kiss him sweetly in the hall. He'd look up to find the dark, mischievous, angry eyes of his godfather watching him, and he'd always wonder as Sirius turned on his heel, disappearing into another part of the house.

So a month had already passed. And Draco not only knew it was his birthday, he seemed to care.

Harry frowned and slung the sheets off of him, padding across the room to retrieve shorts and trousers from the dresser and smiling as Phineas Nigellus grunted under the towel that had been thrown haphazardly over his portrait quite some time ago.

Once he'd dressed in his traditional ratty old t-shirt and jeans, he followed Draco (barefoot) to the kitchen, where, sure enough, Sirius and Remus were waiting for them. Remus offered them a warm, knowing smile before glancing at Sirius, who was pretending not to notice they'd entered the room. Remus kicked him pointedly under the table as he looked back up at Harry and Draco.

"Morning, boys. Happy birthday, Harry."

Harry grinned, reaching up to ruffle his messier-than-ever hair as Sirius glanced up at him, grinning crookedly and shoving a package Harry hadn't noticed down the table toward him. Harry took a seat next to Sirius, flushing and glancing from Remus to Sirius as he lifted the heavy package from the table curiously.

"Thanks."

Remus gave a small frown of disapproval and turned his attention back to the Daily Prophet he was holding as Harry began opening the hastily-wrapped package. Sirius watched with evident excitement and Draco carefully stepped away from the table to the pot of porridge on the stove. Surprisingly, this was not followed with a complaint about the pathetic nature of their breakfast, for perhaps the first time that summer. Harry would have likely remarked upon this if he hadn't just torn the brown paper wrapping off of a large bottle of Firewhiskey.

He nearly dropped it in surprise and turned to Sirius, grinning lopsidedly and clutching the bottle in his fingers. Remus shook his head behind the paper but said nothing.

"Wow… I… thanks! This is great, I mean… really brilliant, Sirius, thanks!"

There was a warm thud near his elbow, and Harry looked up in surprise as Draco, with a fierce look of concentration on his face, set bowls of porridge down in front of each of them before taking a seat beside Remus (leaving quite a bit of space between them) and grimacing at his own.

There was an amused snort beside him as Harry gawked, and Remus lowered his paper in surprise, glancing at Draco curiously. Draco looked positively irritated at this reception and scowled into his bowl.

"What? Eat the bloody porridge."

Sirius made an indiscernible but rude comment under his breath and Harry shrugged, returning his attention to the bottle in his hands. He unscrewed the cap, sniffing it experimentally and instantly wished he hadn't. Remus, watching from across the table, gave a hearty laugh at this and Harry blushed, feeling suddenly much younger. It was probably much too early in the morning for Firewhiskey, but it was his birthday.

Steeling himself against what would surely be unpleasant, Harry lifted the bottle to his lips, cradling it carefully with both hands as he tilted it back for an experimental swig.

He didn't think he'd ever tasted anything fouler in his entire life, even considering the birthday pudding Aunt Petunia had made for Dudley during his diet one summer. Harry wondered if the inside of his throat was getting burned away and set the bottle down quickly, unavoidably wincing and coughing as Remus and Sirius laughed.

"A bit early for that, isn't it Harry?"

Harry grinned sheepishly at Remus as Sirius clapped him on the back, gently prying the bottle from Harry's fingers. Harry was just beginning to feel really stupid, and definitely not seventeen, when Sirius raised the bottle to his own lips, taking a large swallow and handing it back to Harry, wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand and grinning.

Remus shook his head again and spooned some porridge to his mouth, momentarily pretending not to notice the Firewhiskey-chugging occurring just across the breakfast table from him. Sirius, still grinning but perhaps looking the slightest bit abashed, began on his own porridge.

Harry turned to Draco with a grin as he considered sharing his present with the other boy, and found Draco's attention focused entirely on Remus and Sirius, his own porridge untouched.

Alarm bells went off somewhere in the back of Harry's mind, but Draco glanced at him just then, flashing him a brief smile before he started on his own breakfast, watching Harry curiously as he licked his spoon clean.

Harry took another swig, wincing still. He was making fairly good progress on his present, actually, when the clattering of spoons brought his attention back to his surroundings.

He didn't have any time at all to prepare himself for the bench toppling out from under him, and a moment later, he had hit the cold stone of the kitchen floor, and his lungs were refusing to work. He lolled his head against the stone, toward Sirius, only to find himself face to face with – himself.

Harry swallowed hard, staring at his reflection, bereft of glasses and adorned in Sirius's clothes but very much Harry.

"Sirius?"

Sirius growled and scrambled to his feet, tripping slightly over the trousers that were slipping off of his hips. He clutched the side of them with one hand and Harry moved to stand, carefully disentangling himself from the bench and following Sirius's gaze across the table. Two equally disgruntled and dishevelled Dracos faced them, one scowling accusingly at the other.

In an explosion of porridge, silverware, and bowls, Harry's other self dived across the table at one of the Dracos, Harry rescuing his bottle of Firewhiskey just in time, frowning as he stumbled back against the wall.

Harry took another long swig and looked up to find the shabbily-dressed Draco holding back the angry incarnation of Harry, both of their trousers slipping down around their hips and the other Draco looking on interestedly, albeit with a slightly bloodied lip. He seemed to have just noticed this himself, and hastily wiped his mouth off, shooting the other Harry an accusing glare.

"Harry, you alright?"

Harry looked up at the kind tone, surprised to see it had come from Draco, and forcefully reminded himself that it was, in fact, Remus. This version of Draco blushed and tugged his trousers up around his hips again.

"Right. Let's get this sorted out, then, shall we?"

Remus turned his attention to Draco and Harry watched in wonder as the two faced each other, one tired and angry, the other smug and haughty. Harry had never seen anything hotter in his entire life.

"Draco, you slipped us Polyjuice potion?"

Draco sniffed in a way that generally indicated his feelings were hurt and crossed his arms, glancing across the room at Harry.

"It needed a few adjustments, but yes."

Harry clutched the bottle tighter as Draco smirked at him, the other Draco suddenly grabbing hold of his collar as Sirius paced behind them angrily, running his fingers desperately through messy black hair.

"What sort of adjustments, Draco?"

Draco scowled at this sudden intrusion of personal space, and Harry could almost see his line of thought wandering toward whether or not he looked this ridiculous when angry. He glanced back over his shoulder at Harry at last, apparently deciding to ignore the question entirely.

"Happy birthday, Harry."

Suddenly all eyes were on him, and Harry swallowed hard, very nearly dropping the bottle still clutched tightly in his fist.

"Uh."

He didn't recall Sirius crossing the room, but suddenly there he was, his breath hot on Harry's neck and Harry tilted his head as he regarded him, appreciating briefly how much better he looked without glasses. The Firewhiskey was wrestled from his grip easily in the next moment and Sirius leaned heavily against the wall beside him, taking a large swig, his trousers still slipping dangerously on his hips.

Somehow, Harry's gaze was so focused on the perilous progression of those ill-fated trousers that he didn't notice the approach of the Dracos.

He looked up quickly, flushing as Remus prised the bottle from Sirius's fingers and took a large swig, surprising Sirius and apparently himself. Draco merely smiled, propping himself up on the wall beside Harry and ducking his head to whisper to him, nibbling softly on Harry's ear.

"Do you like it?"

Harry closed his eyes and shifted, trying to will away the hard-on that was determinedly making an appearance as Sirius's arm brushed against his and Draco's hand slipped innocently down Harry's side, his fingers dancing across the small stretch of bare skin between Harry's t-shirt and jeans.

Someone coughed and Harry opened his eyes to find Remus-as-Draco watching him, his lip currently curled into a smirk which made him look much more like Draco-Draco as he offered Harry the bottle.

Harry had just raised the bottle to his lips - why, he wasn't sure, as this stuff tasted awful – when Remus decided to question him.

"Why would you want this for your birthday, Harry?"

Harry coughed, just as the Firewhiskey hit the back of his mouth, some of it spilling into his lungs as he tried to swallow, coughing and trying desperately not to choke, his eyes huge at the sensation of his insides catching fire. Sirius patted him on the back again, but now it was his own, smaller, familiar hand, and Draco's wandering fingers promptly slipped into the waistband of his trousers, as if that would somehow help him.

Remus frowned in concern, stepping closer to Harry as he raised pale, cold fingers to Harry's chin and tilted his face as he examined him, familiar grey eyes filled with a kind of concern alien to them.

"Don't choke, now."

Harry nearly laughed, but only succeeded in coughing again. Remus dropped his hand slowly, and his fingers brushed the front of Harry's t-shirt briefly en route to Remus's side. Harry shivered, realising suddenly that Sirius's hand still rested on his back.

He looked up again, meeting Remus's gaze, and those grey eyes were very familiar to him now, though there was a slight flush to his cheeks implying the sort of modesty that Draco could never embrace. Draco laughed softly against Harry's ear and Sirius pulled the Firewhiskey gently from his grip, pushing off of the wall and stepping clumsily away to set the bottle on the table as Draco's clever fingers slid along the inside of Harry's waistband.

Remus lowered his gaze and Harry found himself unable to tear his attention away from the blond-white lashes and pink cheeks and Harry didn't think Remus noticed his trousers finally losing the fight until it was too late. He made a soft noise in surprise as they slid off of his hips finally and Harry could smell the Firewhiskey on his breath.

This couldn't be happening. This was surreal. But the blond boy in front of him didn't scramble to hold onto his trousers, still blushing furiously but stepping out of them all the same – and even nearer to Harry now. Even in Remus's baggy shorts, his erection was evident and Harry sucked in a tight breath as Draco's hand slipped down the back of his pants, brushing his bare arse in a firm reminder that the boy in front of him wasn't the same one he woke up next to every morning.

Harry looked away quickly, sure that Remus couldn't mean what Harry thought (hoped) he meant as he moved even closer, but that was a mistake, as suddenly he was face to face with mischievous green eyes and messy black hair. He didn't have much time to think about anything before Sirius kissed him, dry, chapped lips and the sudden sharp taste of the whiskey fresh on his tongue again as Draco moaned against his ear, his fingers curling against Harry's arse.

Harry could only imagine what they looked like, and it shouldn't have turned him on so much, it really shouldn't have because this was Sirius and in any case, he was kissing himself and that was all kinds of wrong, but he couldn't keep his hand from moving away from the wall to grip at a bare hip, feeling the trousers sliding down and away from his touch and Harry wondered frantically if Sirius was wearing any pants.

His attention was torn quickly away from Sirius as cool fingers pushed his t-shirt up, a smooth palm gliding up his stomach tentatively and even when Harry had pulled away from his reflection, even when he was watching the progress of those fingers with great interest, he still couldn't believe it was Remus.

Draco bit down hard on Harry's ear to get his attention, and hissed rather insistently as his fingers made their torturous way across Harry's arse again.

"You want them, don't you, Potter? They want you, too. I've watched them."

Harry sucked in a sharp breath and closed his eyes, opening them again only when a firm but tentative hand was palming his cock through his jeans. Harry was surprised to find it belonged to Remus, his other hand still pressed against Harry's stomach as Sirius growled, pulling away from Harry and curling up behind the thin blond to mutter in his ear, an arm snaking down around Draco's – Remus's midsection and a hand sliding ever so smoothly into his shorts.

Draco chose this moment to run a finger down the crack of Harry's arse, pressing himself more insistently against Harry's side and oh, yes, he was definitely enjoying this. Remus tightened his grip on Harry's hard-on as Sirius's hand apparently found its mark and Harry couldn't help but moan.

Draco apparently decided Harry needed more encouragement for some reason, and tilted his head, his breath hot on Harry's neck as he licked his way down the line of Harry's throat before murmuring to him again.

"They're all yours, Potter. Play with them. It's your birthday."

Harry shivered and suddenly Draco – Remus was much closer than he had been before, and Harry's own familiar, lopsided grin met him over Remus's shoulder, eyes partially obscured by messy black hair. He still wasn't sure what possessed him to kiss Remus, but when their mouths met, hard and awkward and needing, teeth finding lips before the smooth slide of tongues, Harry found himself suddenly unable – and unwilling – to stop the progression of things.

Now his jeans were being tugged open, the zip of his flies only barely audible above the cacophony of hard breathing that surrounded him.

Remus pulled away suddenly and Harry couldn't help but whine at the loss of that familiar mouth, his lips warm from Firewhiskey and Remus.

"Harry. Are you sure you're all right with this? We can stop. We should stop…"

Harry couldn't help but smile at the sight of Remus turning to give Sirius a reproachful look. Harry hadn't been sure that Draco was capable of making such an expression. Sirius rolled his eyes and in a sudden move forward, Harry felt his glasses being plucked unceremoniously from his face. Sirius grinned at him, now bespectacled, and Harry blinked against the sudden fuzziness.

"Much better."

Remus made an exasperated noise, but Draco chose that precise moment to shove Harry forward, and he stumbled neatly into Remus, who promptly bit back whatever sort of reprimand he had been intending to make to Sirius, taking hold of Harry's shoulders to steady him as Draco sniggered behind him. Harry kissed him without hesitating this time.

He wasn't sure what he expected, but it certainly wasn't the feel of Draco suddenly behind him, his arms winding securely around Harry's waist as his hands slipped confidently down Harry's stomach, tugging his jeans and shorts down around Harry's thighs, his cock springing free, hard and wet against his belly as Remus kissed him.

Harry wasn't sure who was moaning when anymore, but he could feel each of them, as Sirius shoved Remus hard up against him, the wet, thin material of his shorts over his own erection creating an aching sort of friction against Harry's cock as Draco's trouser-clad hard-on rubbed against Harry's arse.

He broke the kiss with Remus, suddenly desperate for air, and Remus's hands slipped down to where Draco's rested, matching pale fingers twining together and just barely brushing Harry's skin, purposefully avoiding his straining, aching cock.

Sirius moved just then, a hand with familiar white scars shining in the dim light of the kitchen reaching behind Harry's head to tangle in his hair, pulling his mouth firmly against Sirius for a kiss over Remus's bony shoulder, Harry's glasses bumping awkwardly against his face. The added pressure of Sirius pushing-pulling-wanting was forcing Remus more tightly up against Harry and he moaned into Sirius's mouth as Remus's cock rubbed firmly against his, Harry's hands reaching around Remus's hips automatically to grip Sirius. His fingers met hot skin, damp with sweat, and he realised that if Sirius had been wearing any pants, they had been lost with the defeat of his trousers.

Draco rocked against Harry from behind and the matching, tangled sets of cold, pale fingers danced their way around Harry's hips to slide over his bare arse, one set attending quickly to the matter of Draco's trousers while the other cupped Harry's rear, pulling him harder up against Remus and making Harry gasp against Sirius's mouth.

Remus ducked his head, silky blond hair brushing Harry's shoulder as he saw to the ear Draco had been neglecting, brushing it softly with his lips as Draco succeeded in tugging his trousers down, pressing up against Harry so warm and hard and wet that Harry bit down on Sirius's bottom lip.

A hand slid further down Harry's arse as Sirius laughed softly against his mouth, and now fingers brushed teasingly over Harry's balls.

"Oh god oh fuck-"

Harry's whispering became incoherent after a moment and Sirius kissed him harder, his eyes nearly stinging with tears at the sharp tugs his godfather was delivering to his hair as Sirius's hand found Harry's on his hip and guided it down to grip his erection, thick and warm and stiff between him and Remus. Harry's fingers scrabbled desperately to hold the familiar length as Remus rutted experimentally against him, his teeth grazing Harry's ear as his fingers brushed more intentionally against Harry's balls, Draco's cock still hot and wet and eager against Harry's arse.

Draco made a frustrated noise and Harry broke his kiss with Sirius, twisting against the grip on his hair to glance over his shoulder at Draco, who was presently extracting a container of lube from the trousers still dangling from his fingers, his cock bumping up against Harry insistently nonetheless. Sirius licked a thick, warm line down Harry's jaw and Harry moved his hand tentatively over Sirius's cock.

"It's yours, isn't it?"

The voice against his ear was gruff and familiar, and Harry almost expected to feel whiskers brushing his neck, but there was only the smooth slide of his own chin, warm against his neck and he found himself staring into compassionate grey eyes again before Remus was kissing him.

And it was his, and it was familiar, and Harry let that be his guide as Remus kissed him, his hand moving in steady, hard strokes over Sirius's - his - cock, faltering only when Draco gripped his arse and Harry could feel a sudden cool, slick finger against his pucker. Remus seemed to understand, somehow, and gripped Harry's hips firmly, pressing up against him as he kissed him, Sirius's breath still hot on his ear as Harry gasped against Remus's mouth.

Sirius slipped a hand between them, and Harry could feel his knuckles under the wet cotton of Remus's shorts brushing up against Harry as he stroked him. Harry moaned into Remus's mouth and Draco was pushing a slick, slender finger into him.

Harry was torn between the hot wet friction of Remus and Sirius and wanting to push back against Draco, but Remus made his decision for him, his fingers tightening on Harry's hips as he kissed him, and Harry wondered if there would be marks there, later. He hoped so. Draco pushed another finger inside him, slowly fucking him with his fingers and making Harry squirm, making him moan and writhe against the blond boy (Remus, he reminded himself) in front of him at the tight, pulling, burning stretch as Draco added a third finger.

There was a sharp tug and Harry winced as Sirius pulled on his hair, forcing him to break his kiss with Remus and forcing his mouth up against Sirius's again, his hand slipping off of Sirius's cock to grip Remus's hip as Draco removed his fingers with a slick, audible pop, Harry nearly tumbling forward at the sudden emptiness.

Sirius growled against his mouth But Harry couldn't help it, because then Draco's cock brushed up against him, and in one long, hot, stretch he was pushing into Harry, filling him.

Draco moved slowly, long, torturous thrusts that pushed him forward against another vision of blond, Remus's fingers still digging into Harry's hips, tugging him closer as Draco fucked him, Harry caught between them, helpless and weak in the knees.

He could feel his release building with the burn, and every time Draco pulled out Harry whimpered against Sirius's mouth, his lips just as raw as his reflection's, and he ached at the emptiness, wanted to be filled and fucked, deep and hard and fast and now.

Slim, cool, wet fingers slid across Harry's belly and he didn't know for a moment if they were Draco's or Remus's, but as they took hold of his cock, Remus's hands still tugging on his hips, Harry knew it was Draco. Warm, wet lips brushed against Harry's ear and he could feel Draco's hair tickling his shoulder as he reached around him, pausing in his thrust.

"Told you they wanted you, Potter."

Harry came like a waterfall, spilling his load all over Draco's hand and Remus's stomach, his already sticky with his own precome, Remus's shorts now totally soaked.

Draco didn't slow, though, didn't stop thrusting against him, forcing him hot and wet and sticky up against Remus, his erection digging into Harry's hip as Sirius tugged his hand away from Remus's hip to take hold of his cock once more. Harry's hand was trapped between their bodies, the bump of Remus's arse against Sirius's damp cock rhythmically in time with Draco's thrusts, forcing Harry up against them repeatedly as his other hand struggled for some sort of grip on Remus's bony hip.

He felt Remus shuddering against him next, his stomach suddenly hot and wet and Harry clutched onto him tighter as he fisted Sirius's cock harder, tilting his head to kiss Remus, his lips numb and wet against Remus's cool, thirsty, grateful mouth.

Sirius thrust into Harry's fist once more and dropped his head, shaggy black hair obscuring his expression as he bit down on Remus's thin, pale shoulder, Harry's hand sticky and warm between them.

And then Draco was coming, hot and wet and thick inside of Harry, and Harry was sure this was the best part of turning seventeen.