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There is a stone table in the middle of the dining room of Grimmauld's Place.
According to the stories Kreacher has told Harry, the thing is ancient, dating all the way back to Merlin and Arthur's time. It's not the round table, no. That one apparently is in a museum, of all things. This one is rectangular, for one, big and strong enough to hold countless Order meetings where personalities like Sirius', Snape's, and Moody's make flying spells more common than probably appropriate for a bunch of people that claim to be allies.
Through it all, the table remains unmoved, the thing is spelled with a permanent sticking charm on the floor, and reinforced with many, many spells to stop it from falling apart every time someone hits it with a blasting hex, or throws a half empty pint of beer on it, but Harry doesn't really care about any of that.
What makes this table in particular special, what makes Harry look twice at it every times he walks past the dining room, is the fact that his godfather, Sirius Black, looks really fucking good when he's getting fucked on it.
"Yes!" Sirius cries out as Harry bottoms out inside of him, his grip on the older man dangerously tight as he pistons in and out of his hole. Sirius takes it beautifully, bouncing back every time Harry pushes in, meeting his thrusts halfway like the greedy dog he is.
Today he is on his knees and shoulders, his face pressed against the smooth stone surface while Harry fucks him from behind, one hand keeping both of Sirius' behind his back, and the other digging into his hip, nails most definitely leaving a mark on his pale skin.
The hard surface would usually be painful on Harry's knees, but a cushioning charm makes the experience as comfortable as it would be on Sirius' oversized mattress, not to mention, infinitely hotter than simply having sex in their room.
It's a risk, and they both know it, even with the house currently empty. Anyone could come back early, could find out that their relationship goes way beyond that of simply godfather and godson.
"C'mon, baby," Sirius pants between moans, "Fuck daddy harder, I know you can."
Harry obeys eagerly, willing to give the older man anything he asks for. Their positions could easily be reversed, with Sirius fucking Harry while the teen tries his best to take it, and he would be more than grateful for it, would beg if that's what it took, but apparently, Sirius has always been an eager bottom, and Harry's fat cock always manages to hit just the right spot inside of him.
Harry's heart pounds inside his chest with each thrust of his hips, and a moaned "Daddy," escapes his lips when Sirius clenches around his girth. "Ahhh!"
Just calling themselves lovers would fall short. They're family, despite not sharing the same blood. Hermione once said that Sirius acted like an overprotective father to him, and Harry had agreed, but it's not just that.
Of course Sirius is his daddy, he takes care of Harry when no one else will, has done so ever since he escaped Azkaban.
He sneaked into Privet Drive and blew Harry's aunt Marge up when she tried to hit him, he taught Harry how to call the Knight Bus and hide from aurors, how to best use his fortune in Gringotts, what being a Potter truly means. Both heirship rings in his fingers, hidden as Harry usually keeps them, are a testament to that.
But Sirius also taught him how to smoke pot without choking on the smoke, he teased him about his crush on Cedric and Cho, taught him how to flirt with girls and boys without getting flustered, how to sneak out of the Dursleys during the summers, all of it hidden from his watchers’ eyes, just the way an older brother would.
He taught Harry how to work him open with his just fingers, with his tongue, how to take him from behind, and how to tie a knot he wouldn't be able to escape. Harry doesn't think there's any family member that would actually teach him those things, though.
Sirius is... He's everything.
"Turn around," Harry says, voice almost whiny as he frees his wrists. "I want to kiss you."
With him on his back, Harry can appreciate his tattoos better. He has one of a pair of antlers on his back. "A tramp stamp," Sirius called the first time Harry asked, but his front is covered mostly in runes. Black ink impossible to miss against his pale skin. They go all the way from his collarbone down to the length of his cock, and Harry has traced every single one of them with his tongue on more than one occasion, has managed to get the older man off just like that.
"Feeling needy, pup?" Sirius asks as he repositions himself, his legs wrapped around his godson's hips, arms above his head, inviting Harry to grab hold of his wrists again.
“Daddy!” Harry cries, moving to take them without being asked, right after lining his cock up with Sirius’ entrance, and ever so slowly, he pushes back in. A hiss of pleasure escapes his throat as he does do, but he buries it in Sirius' mouth when he goes down for a kiss.
Sirius' lips part almost immediately, his tongue peeking out to meet Harry's in a seductive dance. His lips are soft against Harry’s, they feel like heaven when he bites into them, and his scruff tickles Harry's nose when he nuzzles into his face. With their eyes closed, they let themselves get lost in the simple pleasure of the act, not even Harry's throbbing cock nestled deep inside of him distracting them from it.
They don't get the chance to kiss like this often, not when the whole Order is constantly breathing down their necks, looking for any excuse to pull the two of them apart. Maybe they've noticed, the way Harry's eyes always seem to seek Sirius in a room, or the intimate touches Sirius never hesitates to give Harry, no matter who is witness to them.
They're afraid that his godfather will corrupt him, that those years in Azkaban drove him into madness and he's a single step away from taking Harry down with him.
Oh, if only they knew.
They both push and pull into the kiss, not in a battle or a competition, but a collaboration, a dance. Sirius bites, Harry sucks, Sirius licks, Harry moans, back and forth again and again until their minds are hazy and their lungs feel like burning. It's messy and wet, there's spit trickling down Harry's chin when pulls back for a second, panting for air, and Sirius licks it clean before connecting their lips once again and sucking on his tongue.
“Mnnn,” someone moans, although Harry's not sure which one of them does it.
It could be either way, as connected as they are right now, Harry doesn't know where he ends and Sirius begins.
“Fuck, pup. Fuck me,” Sirius whispers to him, voice breathy.
“Yeah,” Harry pants.
His hips start to move again, this time slow and deep, making his godfather gasp when he pulls out and whine when he pushes in as deep as he can manage.
Harry's free hand goes towards Sirius' cock, still rock hard and leaking despite not having received much attention so far. He keeps his grip tight as he wanks him in a steady rhythm, the movement of his hips not stopping even once, not even when he once again reconnects their lips in a sloppy kiss.
The sound of their kissing mixes with the noises of Harry's hips slapping against Sirius' arse in a symphony of pleasure, and Harry's increasingly desperate whines are the chorus.
“Daddy, daddy, daddy,” he moans without restraint, letting his voice echo through the hallways of the house.
It's a nice change of pace, not having to care about how much noise they're making, but since neither of them has been allowed to leave the Grimmauld's Place after the dementor fiasco back in Privet Drive, they have the whole house to themselves while everyone else is busy out in Diagon Alley buying their school supplies.
Ever so slowly, he's getting closer to completion, but he doesn't want to push past the edge before Sirius can get there, too, so he redoubles his efforts, tilting his hips just slightly so that he'll punch Sirius' prostate with every thrust instead of just grazing it.
The effect is clear from his godfather's reaction: He pulls away from the kiss and lets his head fall back and hit the hard surface of the table, a scream of pleasure escaping his throat.
“A-A-Ahhh!"
His whole body shakes while Harry fucks him, but not once does he attempt to escape from the hold Harry has on him, trusting him to give him what he wants.
With a seeker's eyes, it's easy to notice the signs of his imminent orgasm. Sirius' breaths become shorter, his hole clenches tightly around Harry's cock, and after a full body shiver, he's getting his orgasm fucked out of him, his hard cock spitting rope after rope of cum over his own chest, some droplets even making it all the way up to his chin.
Feeling a little desperate himself, Harry licks it clean, and the salty flavor of Sirius' cum is enough for him to let go of any semblance of control he had. He falls apart in his orgasm, his thrusts becoming first irregular, and then stilling as he shoots inside Sirius' hole, a cry of “Daddy!” leaving his lips as he fills his godfather up to the brim with cum.
Harry's breath comes out in pants as he tries to nestle his cock deeper inside of Sirius. He doesn't want to pull out just yet, and neither does Sirius, so he stays there, freeing Sirius' wrists in favor of wrapping his arms around his middle in a tight hug. He feels boneless, legs and hips weak from the workout they just had, but he also feels unbelievably good and fulfilled.
“Merlin, I needed that,” the older man says.
Harry snorts. “Me too," he says. "How much more until they all come back you think?”
Sirius hums. “Maybe an hour, they said they'd be here before dinner, but—”
But whatever he was going to say falls short when a crashing noise makes them both jolt and turn towards the door, where Remus Lupin stands with a shocked look on his face.
“Professor!” “Moony!”
“I—” Remus tries to talk, but his face is too red to get the words out immediately. “The others will come back soon, er, you two should probably get dressed,” he says, before turning around and practically running away, turning back once for a final glance at their still joined bodies and to grab his bag of groceries from the floor.
“Fuck,” Harry curses, slowly pulling out of Sirius, an amused look on his face as he watches the cum drooling out of his hole. “Do you think he'll tell the rest of the Order?” Harry asks, searching for his wand to clean them up.
Sirius doesn't move, chosing to remain sprawled over the table, full body covered in sweat and cum. “Doubt it,” he says, completely calm even as Harry panics around him.
“Why?” Harry asks, confused.
“Because he first has to take care of that tent he had in his trousers,” Sirius explains, voice full of amusement. “He was watching for far longer than you think, pup. Moony can be sneaky like that.”
That thought makes him snort. “Want to sneak out and go to the movies?” Harry asks.
“Ohhh, Molly is going to be pissed if we do that,” Sirius answers with a frown, but then it quickly turns into a smile. “Let's do it.”
Harry grins. His godfather truly is the best.