The first time Sirius saw her, he knew he was in love.
He found her in a junkyard with her plating rusted over, the seat in tatters, and the engine half eroded. James had laughed when Sirius announced his intent to fix her up, and Remus had looked dubious. Only Peter had offered his standard, starry-eyed support, but Sirius could tell that even he was skeptical of the undertaking. They didn't understand. The motorbike called to him. She was his.
Sirius was determined. She was beautiful even then, but he knew that he could make her shine. He purchased every book on Muggle motorcycle maintenance he could scrounge up and spent hours reading up on it. He took particular pleasure in reading them in front of his parents. Not only because they loathed all things Muggle and mechanical, but because the peculiar fluttering in his belly as he read about exhaust systems and engine valves felt delightfully naughty. Though he was careful not to let the books out of his sight, lest they mysteriously vanish.
It took over a year. A year of oil stains that never came out, of frustrated strings of profanity, and of minor magical explosions as he worked to repair the mechanics of the bike; as well as add a few magical additions. The day he finished, was just about the best day of Sirius's young life.
There she sat in the Potter's shed, gleaming silver and matte black, smelling of new rubber, her polished headlamp illuminating the far, dusty corners of the shed. She was perfection. Sirius had never seen a bird that could equal her in sheer, gleaming beauty. He could already feel the wind sliding over his skin, his hair whipping around his face, the joy and exhilaration as he flew down the street. Maybe he would fly past Grimmauld Place, give his parent's something new and exciting for them to condemn him over…
James, Remus, and Peter all oohed and aahed over his little beauty, properly shown up by Sirius's hard work. Sirius knew, though, that when they looked at his pride and joy, all they saw was a pretty motorbike, something on par with a broom for transportation. He didn't mind. Sirius had never been overly fond of sharing.
Now, as he sped over the city of London towards James's engagement party, the frame vibrating between his thighs, he felt a shiver of anticipation in his gut. He always felt like this when he took his girl out for a spin.
She was still so beautiful, and she was all his.
With her, he could go anywhere, do anything. She was freedom and escape and possibility. She was wild and sexy, her sleek, chrome body shining beneath the stars.
Sirius was hard.
Flying around on his motorbike never failed to get Sirius going. There was something so sensual about it: the sexy purr of the engine, the scent of gasoline promising adventure, the hum of power that shivered up his legs and caressed his balls. It made him want to ride his bike like an Aethonan, made him want to rock his hips in rhythm with a gentle gait.
Sirius shifted and ground his hips down against his seat. The pressure felt good squeezing his erection, but Sirius wanted more. He wanted to feel his girl pressed all against him as he rode her through the night sky.
Knowing that taking his hands off the bars was a little reckless, even for him, he slipped his wand out of his forearm holster. He held the slim wood between his palm and the handlebar, a thrill running through him as his wand registered the hum of magic thrumming through the bike. With a whispered spell (and a lot of wriggling), Sirius managed to free his erection. The whipping wind was jarring against the heated skin of his cock, but Sirius was too turned on to give it much notice.
He leaned forward, trapping his erection between his stomach and the black leather seat. The power of the engine pulsed beneath him, and his eyes rolled to the back of his head at the pleasurable sensation. Sirius rocked his hips, pushing his cock along the seat, and letting himself get carried away by the rumble and shudder of the bike, the thrill of the ride, the smell of exhaust and the slight pull in his thighs from being spread by the strong body of his girl.
Grinning wildly, he revved the engine, and the sound drowned out the shout of pure pleasure that bubbled out of him. His body pulsed with sensation, the vibrations tingling through his fingers, and up his arms, shuddering up through the soles of his feet and the meat of his arse. He could feel every growl and quiver and throb of his baby, could feel it in his bones, in his soul, in his aching cock.
He thrust against the seat in increasingly frantic motions, feral desperation welling up inside of him, building and building and...Sirius revved the engine again.
The headlamp flared as Sirius came, spilling hot, white, and sticky against the chrome and leather of his beautiful girl. The vibrations continued, pulsating beneath him and prolonging his orgasm until his legs felt like jelly and he was sure he would have collapsed if he hadn't had the solid weight of his bike holding him up.
Sirius urged his bike forward lazily, gentling his pace as he took in the night with his post-orgasmic glow. He twitched his wand again, and his cock was tucked neatly away, protected from the cool wind. Another flick and his come disappeared. He felt a twinge of disappointment at that one—the white of his seed looked so good on her. But he would be damned if he let anything mar the shining beauty of his girl. Not to mention that Lily would probably castrate him if he showed up to her engagement party on a come-spattered motorbike.
He landed in the drive of James and Lily's house, the sounds of the party drifting out through the open parlour windows. Reluctantly, he slid off the sleek body of the bike. He gave her one last assessing glance, pulling down his sleeve and buffing off a splattered bug on the front guard. Sirius cast the usual protective charms, and then walked toward the house, reminding himself that these were his best mates, and he could spare a few hours to celebrate with them, even if it meant being separated from his beautiful motorbike.
Besides, there was always the ride home.