alwaysimpure | What if Peter hadn't been the secret-keeper, but still a traitor?

It wasn't often that Sirius considered, even for a moment, being grateful to his mother. She had made his life misery, she had turned his brother from him, she had messed him up the way only family could. But at least she had also prepared him for pain, definitely for more pain than any growing child should have to experience and through enough that he had been able to withstand more torture than most minds could take since he'd been captured.

A trap, a simple one, but he had trusted Peter and that had made this so easy. Of course he'd trusted Peter. Not because Peter was brave or overly loyal, but because he just didn't seem capable of deceit. Too much the coward, too stupid. he had underestimated him and that's how he ended up here. Some dungeon, who knew where, chained to the wall, wandless and in pain.

Deatheaters weren't gentle captors, especially not to bloodtraitors. He hadn't eaten or drunk, hell, hadn't slept or pissed since this started, not that he had any way of telling how much time had passed. But as long as there was so much importance on getting the truth from him, at least Sirius knew that they were still safe and that gave him strength like nothing else.

There was no one with him at the moment, a short but welcome reprieve. Sirius had closed his eyes, tried to use wandless magic to find some spell to break the chains, hopeless as that was. He'd have been better of focusing his strength on a healing spell, but that had never been his style. Too much of a fighter.

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Remus' body jerked as well, thought for a different reason.

"STOP IT." He tugged and yanked at his restraints, fighting against the chains he could do little more than make clank about, with a desperation and anger to his voice that he couldn't hide. When Warwick's words caught up to him, he fell limp in is chains, hands fisted until the skin started to turn white as he forced the words at.

"I'll play your sick game, just stop." He couldn't take Sirius' screams. Each one like a spike being driven into him. "You chained him up and cast hexes and spells on him. Horrible, painful hexes and spells. Cut into him and beat him until he was a bloody bruised mess and then healed him to do it over again. When hurting him wasn't enough you tried to get inside his head. You insulted him, you made jibes about his traitorous choices and threats on his friends. And when nothing you did got the results you wanted-" He didn't look at Sirius for any of it, trying to find the words, most of them catching in his throat.

"You tried to break him down with a different kind of torture." He yanked at his chains again, the wolf in him dragging a snarl from his throat as he did. Right now, a terrified part of his brain was trying not to acknowledge the fleeting thought of just how happy he would be to let it loose on Warwick.

"Stop." For the love of Merlin, please, make him stop.

Warwick ended the curse, casual look on his face and paying no mind to the fact that Sirius was trembling, hell, shaking, only the chains holding him up as he fought to keep breathing. It took a while until Sirius opened his eyes, dazed, darkened by the curse, but he'd be paying attention. Which was all the Death Eater wanted from him in the moment.

"Good. You can be trained." Such a pleasant smile at Warwick and he petted Remus's head as if he were a dog. "And you're right. But I want you to tell me about that different kind of torture."

His fingers tightened in Remus's hair and at the same time, his other hand unbuttoned the man's pants and he slid it inside, pressing his palm against his cock. Sirius's eyes widened and he managed a grunt as he tried to get on his feet, only for his legs to give in again. Another bloody mark on his wrist.

"I want you to tell me in detail. All about it."

Remus shut his eyes, his entire body tensing the moment Warwick's hand went anywhere near his trousers. He wanted to kick him, shove him away, throw up. Anything but be where he was as the death eater put his hands on him. It took a moment to swallow down the desire to throw up his breakfast, and even then the words stuck fast in his throat. The idea of the other wizard touching Sirius making him sicker even than this did.

His fingernails had begun todraw blood from his palms by the time he spoke. Even to his ears, the choked back sounds of fury and disgust coloured his words. Making them sound even more forced than they already were.

"You bloody bastard." He took in a slow breath through clenched teeth, his head held fast in Warwick's grip to keep him from even ducking his head away. He did not want to say it. Did not want to bring his suspicions into words for Sirius to hear. Not because it would keep them from being true, but because he did not want Sirius to hear it. Or see the shame and fury reflected on his own face for being unable to do anything. Not to keep this from Sirius, or even to protect himself.

"You sick fuck-" The rage in his voice was going to give him away if he had not already done so. "You -" He choked on the word, wishing he could make Sirius not hear any of this. "-used him for your own sick perversions." He was trying to recover his lost ground, trying to force the emotions out of his voice, but it was not working well. "Even a blood traitor is still a pure blood, I guess."

In the bedroom, it had taken Sirius a while to get Remus into the world of 'dirty talk', and now he found he couldn't even bring the words forward. He couldn't talk about this. Especially not to this sick, perverted bastard. He wouldn't.

"You're repulsive. Even a Dementor's Kiss would be too good a death for you."

"And here you were doing so well before."

Not surprising, but definitely still painful, Warwick tightened his grip around Remus's cock, crossing the line between what could be perceived as pleasure and definite agony. Sirius's muffled protest from behind him made him look over his shoulder and grin, but it took a good while longer before he let go.

"I want you to go into detail. I'm sure you can do it. Tell me how he was used. The more descriptive the better." He met Remus's eyes and his smile widened, turned ugly. "If you can't provide, I'll just have to put on a demonstration to inspire you. And if you keep failing me, I'll have to think of another game. I can guarantee it'd be one you would both like even less."

He looked at Sirius again, then back at Remus. "You've fucked him yourself, haven't you?"

Remus winced, holding himself as still as he could manage. His jaw had locked trying to keep from satisfying him by crying out, but he knew he was going to have to do this. The disgust and the rebellious desire to tell him to go fuck himself could be set aside if it meant saving Sirius even a little.

He tried so hard not to associate what he was saying with reality, but unwelcome, gut wrenching mental images provided by his blasted mind accompanied each new description. The worst of it being that, Remus knew people too well, and he knew how the Death Eaters thought and acted thanks to his time trying to recruit the werewolves to the order's side.

He still could not look in Sirius' direction as he spoke, and every now and then he choked on a few words.

"You forced him to-" Had he mentioned dirty talk was not his favorite thing. Especially when the talk left a taste worse than polyjuice potion in his mouth and made him want to claw and snarl.

"Suck you off." The words come out sounding awkward and forced. "Forced him to kneel before you." I hope he bit you, you slimy prick. He bared his teeth unconsciously, glaring straight into Warwick's eyes. He wanted to remember them well for when they got out of there. He wasn't usually one for revenge but this wizard he would make an exception for.

It was true, obviously, but somehow actually hearing Remus say it was a hundred times worse. Sirius knew enough about the war, about prisoners, about Death Eaters to realize that such things happened. Especially with purebloods, while there were other treatments reserved for others. Adding to that the fact that he did have the classical Black looks, with all the beauty and haughtiness that stood for, it wasn't that far-fetched that he'd be reduced in such a way.

On an intellectual level, he could handle it well enough. Psychologically, he had been trying to not think about it as much as he could. Hearing it described by Remus, who he shared so many far more pleasant intimate memories with... It was worse, it made it worse.

"Wasn't that hard to get him to kneel, actually." Warwick smirked, not in the least minding how obnoxious he was in the face of Remus's obvious anger. "Although he wasn't all that cooperative anyway. Had to break his jaw once, that taught him the lesson. We could fuck his mouth anyway."

Once more the way he touched Remus changed, more skillful, trying to actually make him hard as he stroked him evenly, while he continued to taunt them both with his cruel games.

"What else did we do? Tell me."

What if Peter hadn't been the secret-keeper, but still a traitor?

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