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mysidDisclaimer: The world in this story and most of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling. My additional characters and I are just visiting.
A Picture is Worth a Thousand Lies
Chapter Four: Understandings
December 1995
Remus was back in England before the full moon, but he did not return to Grimmauld Place. He slept on Kingsley’s sofa two nights, and rather than overstay his welcome there, he spent one night at the Burrow. He returned home on the day of the full moon.
Sirius was running down the stairs as Remus entered the house, and Remus realized that Sirius had seen his arrival from an upstairs window. Sirius made it as far as the last stair before the look on Remus’s face made him stop in his tracks.
“Hi. I’ve been worried about you,” Sirius said. He spoke quietly so as not to awaken his mother.
“You knew I was back, didn’t you?”
Sirius nodded. “Tonks told me yesterday.” He stepped down off the bottom stair but came no closer.
“I’m not staying here tonight.”
“You didn’t get back in time to take Wolfsbane Potion this week, right?” Remus nodded. “I was afraid that might happen, so I got the cellar ready. I got rid of all the red caps, Tonks helped me with the boggart down there, and I strengthened the—”
“No, I’m not staying. I arranged to go to the Ministry’s containment facility.”
Sirius started to step forward but checked himself. “But you hate it there.”
“Yes, I do hate it there, but I can’t stay here, can I?”
“The cellar’s secure; you won’t get out. Come and see.” Sirius grabbed Remus by the arm and tried to lead him toward the kitchen and the cellar. Remus yanked his arm out of Sirius’s grasp and took a step back rather than do what he really wanted to do—slam Sirius against the wall.
“That’s not the point,” Remus said in a low and angry voice. “I wouldn’t stay here even if I had taken the potion. I can’t trust you anymore.”
Sirius’s eyes became fearful. “I said I was sorry. I won’t try anything again.”
“You’re only sorry that it wasn’t the fun fuck you thought it would be! You aren’t sorry that you betrayed me!”
Shouting was a mistake. The last of Remus’s words were drowned out by even louder screams and shouts of Sirius’s mother. She berated her son for allowing the “flea-bitten beast” back into the house, and Sirius shouted right back at her as he tugged the curtains back into place over her. Remus just wanted to tear her to shreds—or maybe he wanted to do that to Sirius instead. He realized that the day of the full moon was the wrong day to confront Sirius about this. He decided to retreat where Sirius could not follow, outside. He hesitated just before he opened the door, pulled a much-folded parchment from his pocket, and left it behind on the table by the front door.
Sirius tugged the curtains closed and turned to deal with his angry friend. “Shit!” He ran to door and yanked it open, hoping that Remus hadn’t gotten far. Sirius stood with one foot inside and one on the top step while he looked around desperately. He was tempted—so tempted—to transform and pursue Remus’s scent. But he knew it was hopeless. If Remus was already out of sight, he had undoubtedly apparated away from the neighbourhood.
Mundungus Fletcher arrived late the next morning to find an unshaven Sirius sitting at the kitchen table with a cold cup of tea before him.
“Just dropping off a few items Moody wanted me to acquire,” Fletcher said cheerfully as he prepared a new pot of tea. “Almost brought them by last night, but remembered it was the full moon. Found this on the table in the hall.” He tossed a folded piece of parchment in front of Sirius. “Looks like a letter to you. Remus sleeping? You look like it was a long night.”
“He’s not here.”
“No? Why do you look like hell then?”
Sirius did not answer. He had already unfolded the parchment and begun to read.
Dear Sirius,
Yet another letter to you that I have no intention of sending. At least this time, I’m not writing because I can’t see you face to face, but rather because I intend to. You deserve to hear from me that I won’t spend any more full moons with you. I guess I’m trying to organize my thoughts before I tell you.
I just don’t know where to begin to make you understand how deeply hurt and betrayed I feel. I tried to tell you before I left, but I really couldn’t handle being in the same room with you. Too tempted to kill you. Or fuck you—and that would have been a bit counterproductive to telling you that I’m angry. On second thought, given how sore you were, it might have proven my point rather nicely.
I’m rambling. How to get back on topic? My patronus. You know that Padfoot is my patronus. Have you ever considered why? Padfoot protects me from the wolf. I hate—I loathe—I fear becoming the wolf. I hate the way my ability to thinkdisappears is buried under the wolf’s instincts and drives. I lose control over myself, and I’m afraid of what I may do.
From the first full moon you spent with me, I got back control. When you were with me, my human side wasn’t buried as deeply. More importantly, I trusted you to control the wolf for me. You may have looked like a dog, but you were a dog with a human intellect and a lion’s courage. I knew you’d keep the wolf—keep me—out of trouble. You protected me from what the wolf might do. You never let the wolf do anything that you knew I wasn’t willing to do. Even when we disagreed about where to go, or how far, come moonrise I knew that I could trust you to prevent me from doing anything I wouldn’t be willing to do.
But last month, you did just the opposite. I was already teetering on the edge. I was clinging to humanity by my fingernails, trying not to fall into an abyss of the wolf’s desires and instincts. Even taking that vile potion and making sure I’d had sex recently, I could barely keep the wolf off you. And what did you do? You deliberately pushed me over the edge.
I’d made a decision. I’d chosen not to have sex with you. You knew that’s how I felt. You didn’t agree with my decision, but I trusted you to abide by it. My trust was misplaced. You merely waited until I wasn’t capable of deciding or choosing or objecting, and you made the decision for both of us.
Do you have any idea how much this reminds me of sixth year? You didn’t consult me on that decision either, even though my life would have been significantly changed if you’d succeeded.
Elphias is snoring again. He’s had a cold for three days now and refuses to take Pepper-Up or anything else. It’s his problem during the day, but since we could only get one room, his cold becomes my problem at night. We’ll be back in England tomorrow (barring anymore unforeseen delays) but it’s too late. I should have started taking my potion two nights ago. Well, at least it’ll keep me from being tempted to cave in and spend the full moon with you. Without the potion—and with the wolf now having no doubts that Padfoot is his mate—you wouldn’t stand a chance. And I think you’d agree that getting buggered by a wolf is not your idea of a good time.
The letter ended there, unsigned. As if it mattered. Sirius knew Remus’s handwriting as well as his own, the context made the author blatantly clear, and even Remus’s dark sense of humour showed through. Saying that his life would have been “significantly changed” if he’d been executed for killing Snape. If the rest of the letter hadn’t already filled Sirius with remorse for his actions, that paragraph alone could have accomplished the task. He’d sworn that he’d never betray Remus’s trust like that again, yet Remus was telling him that he had.
“Bad news?” Mundungus asked when he saw that Sirius had finished reading.
“Is there any other kind?”
“Cheer up, mate,” Mundungus said as he clapped Sirius on the shoulder and stood to leave. “Christmas in a few weeks. Peace on Earth. Goodwill toward men. All that rot. I’ll be back next Wednesday. Anything I can get for you?”
“Yeah, another bottle of firewhiskey.”
Mundungus paused on his way out the door. They both knew that Mundungus had just brought him two bottles a few weeks ago. Mundungus nodded. “See you Wednesday, Sirius.”
* * * * *
Remus was in a rented room in a small fishing village when Tonks’s owl, Iggy, found him. He was pleased to see Sirius’s familiar curvy hand. He’d wasted too many years being angry with Sirius. Remus wanted to forgive him, and he was hopeful that Sirius had found the right words to make him do so. After summoning one of the mice from the nest inside the wall to be Iggy’s breakfast, Remus climbed back into his own warm nest of blankets to read his letter.
Dear Remus,
I’m always bollocksing things up, aren’t I? I’m so, so sorry that I let you down like that. I never meant to hurt you, and I swear I didn’t mean to betray you. I know how important staying in control is to you. I didn’t realize that I would be “pushing you over the edge,” as you put it. I didn’t know that you were having trouble maintaining control around me. You never told me. I guess I overestimated how effective the Wolfsbane Potion is. I thought that the wolf would be strong enough to help me convince you, but I thought you’d make the decision.
I thought it would be like when we were in school. James and I would come up with a great idea, and we could tell that you wanted to go along with it, but you’d start overthinking it and decide not to do it. But if we waited until the wolf was strong to ask you, when the moon was waxing gibbous, you’d be less likely to overthink it and more likely to give in to what you really wanted to do.
Now that I’m writing this, I realize how deceitful that sounds. We didn’t mean it to be. Even then, you wouldn’t agree unless you really wanted to do it. That’s what I thought the full moon with Wolfsbane Potion would be like. You wouldn’t do anything unless you really wanted to. I was just trying to get you past thinking of all the reasons we shouldn’t have sex and focus on the two reasons we should. I wanted to, and you wanted to. At least, I was hoping you did.
Please come back for Christmas. I promise that I won’t put up any mistletoe.
Padfoot
Sirius had succeeded—more than succeeded. Not only was Remus no longer angry, but he was forced to confront the fact that he bore an equal share of the blame. His lie by omission, not telling Sirius how vulnerable he was even with Wolfsbane, had set this entire fiasco in motion. They were both to blame; they would put that behind them. The question was, what would they do about the future?
Remus hoped he could finish his discussions with the small group of local werewolves soon. He wanted to go home for Christmas.
* * * * *
The strange Christmas decorations in the front hall caught Remus by surprise but were a welcome sight. He was glad to see that Sirius was trying to be cheerful even in these highly trying circumstances. He heard a small explosion followed by laughter in the drawing room. Remus smiled. He’d know Fred and George’s laughter anywhere, and if the Weasleys were here, so was Harry. The reason Sirius had decorated for Christmas was explained.
Remus banished his bag and his cloak to his room before he joined the group in the drawing room. Sirius was playing Exploding Snap with Harry, Fred, and Ginny. George and Ron sat close by. The soot on their faces indicated that they’d recently been eliminated from the game. Hermione was nearest the door, curled up in a chair with a rather weighty book. She looked up at him and smiled.
“Welcome back, Professor. Happy Christmas.”
“Happy Christmas, Hermione.”
Remus looked over at the card players again. Sirius had looked up upon hearing Hermione and Remus. He watched Remus expectantly, wanting to know if he was forgiven. Remus smiled, and Sirius’s face lit up. Remus couldn’t help it; he grinned back.
“Sirius,” Ginny called his attention back to the game. Rather than interrupt, Remus decided to head down to the kitchen. His only meal in the last twelve hours had been a cup of weak tea and a slightly stale roll. Remus was almost to the kitchen doorway when he heard someone running to catch up with him.
“I didn’t do it!” Sirius said in a rush as he grabbed Remus by the arm to prevent his entering the kitchen.
“Do what?”
Sirius pushed open the door and pointed to a sprig of mistletoe hanging in midair just inside. “Once it’s over someone’s head, it won’t leave until he or she is kissed by someone, but I swear I didn’t do it.”
“Probably Fred or George trying to give Ron and Hermione an excuse to kiss,” Remus surmised as he tried to slip into the room without being “caught” by the enchanted mistletoe. He did not succeed. He stared up at it as it hovered above him and then looked back at Sirius with a bemused smile.
Sirius shook his head. “Not unless you ask me to, Moony.”
“Welcome back, Remus,” Molly Weasley said as came into the kitchen, taking off her cloak and hanging it on the peg she removed her apron from. She glanced at the mistletoe over Remus’s head. “Oh honestly.” She stood on tiptoe to give Remus a quick peck on the cheek, and the sprig of mistletoe drifted back to its place near the door. “I told those two I wanted that mistletoe gone or disenchanted by the time I got back from the hospital.”
“How’s Arthur?” Sirius asked.
“The healers think he’s out of danger, but they haven’t been able to stop—the bleed—bleeding yet—because—” her voice was beginning to catch in hiccupy little breaths, and her eyes welled up with tears.
Sirius glanced at Remus with alarm in his eyes. Offering comfort had never been his forte. Remus wrapped an arm around her and led her into a chair. He kept one arm around her and held her hand. Sirius offered her a handkerchief and took a seat opposite them at the table.
“I’m sorry,” she said as she dabbed at eyes and wiped under her nose. “I didn’t want—cry at the hospital—and I didn’t—want to cry in front—the children.”
“It’s fine, Molly,” Remus assured her. “You can cry with us. What did the healers say?”
“They can’t treat—properly because—don’t know type— of snake.” She took a deep shuddering breath and wiped more tears away. “They had to give him—antivenin potions,” another deep breath, “for several species, but n—none were exactly right. They don’t think it was a naturally occurring species of snake. Harry said that it was enormous, too big to be most poisonous snakes. Thank God that Harry had that vision. Arthur wouldn’t have survived a longer delay before being treated.”
The tears were still flowing down her face, but her breathing and speech had normalized. “Giving her permission to cry was exactly what she needed,” Sirius thought. “Trust Moony to know the right thing to do.”
Remus had been the first of the group to say good-night and head upstairs. He had said that he was tired from travelling, but Sirius had to wonder if Remus was going to bed early to avoid being with him. Molly had called it an evening immediately after Remus, and Sirius realized that he was the sole adult in the room full of teenagers. He suddenly felt very old. He was tempted to leave the room as well, but if Remus was trying to avoid having a discussion tonight, the least that Sirius could do was cooperate and delay going upstairs.
He watched Ron and Harry play a game of chess and had to exercise great restraint not to help Harry. He wasn’t a very good player; he wasn’t any better than Remus. Ron and Harry both seemed to accept Ron’s eventual victory as a foregone conclusion, but neither seemed to care. The game was just a way to spend time together. Watching Harry cheerfully lose at chess, Sirius could easily have imagined that his godson didn’t have a competitive bone in his body—if Remus hadn’t already told him how Harry had pushed himself to learn the Patronus Charm just so he could play Quidditch despite the presence of Dementors at Hogwarts.
“Want to play, Sirius?” Ron asked as Harry repaired the broken chess pieces.
“Tomorrow. I might go up to the library and read a bit. Good-night, everyone.” He patted Harry on the shoulder as he got up to leave.
“Good-night,” Harry and the others replied.
When he reached his floor, he saw that the door of his own room was ajar, and the light spilling out of the doorway drew him there instead of the library. He was surprised, but pleased, to see Remus sitting on Sirius’s bed and reading reports to catch up on what had been happening in his absence.
“Wondered how long it would take you to come up here,” Remus commented without looking up.
“I delayed,” Sirius replied as he shut the door. “I thought you might be avoiding talking with me.”
“If I wanted to avoid you,” Remus said as he put the reports aside and looked up at last, “I wouldn’t have come back here.”
Sirius sat cross-legged on the foot of the bed. This was familiar. He’d spent many hours sitting at the foot of Remus’s hospital bed explaining the lessons he’d missed or just keeping him company.
“What do you want, Sirius?”
“I think I made it clear what I wanted. I just picked the wrong way to go about it.”
“As much my fault as yours,” Remus dismissed it with a slight shake of his head. “I should have listened to your explanation before I left.”
“So, where do we go from here?” Sirius asked, echoing Remus’s own thoughts. “I just don’t understand why not, Moony. You used to want me. I know I don’t look half as good as I used to, but I’m not a troll either. And you do sleep around, so I know you’re not a hopeless romantic waiting for the love of your life to come along.”
Remus did not answer. He averted his eyes slightly to stare at the coals glowing in the fireplace grate. Sirius took that to mean that Remus had to consider it some more. During the week of the new moon, Remus tended toward careful, thoroughly considered decisions. Sirius decided to go to the bathroom and get ready for bed. After his last mistake, he didn’t want to make Remus feel like he was pressuring him to decide.
Remus was still sitting on the bed when Sirius returned, but the reports had been put away, and Remus was again watching Sirius instead of the fire.
“You can sleep in here if you want,” Sirius said as he sat on the edge of the bed to remove his shoes. “I promise I won’t try anything.” He stood to remove his robe and tossed it onto a nearby chair.
“Nox,” Remus incanted, and all the candles in the room extinguished. Sirius half turned to look back at Remus. His eyes were slightly luminous in the faint red glow of the fire, and he was watching Sirius with the predatory look that Sirius had glimpsed numerous times since their reunion last spring. Remus smiled slightly. “Are you just going to stand there?”
Sirius shook his head; he wasn’t sure he could speak at the moment, at least not intelligently. He sat back down on the edge of the bed, one leg cocked so he could face Remus. Remus’s eyes travelled down his body, now clad only in a thin vest and boxers, and back up to Sirius’s face. Sirius felt his mouth go dry—he’d thought he was ready, but now he was nervous—and licked his lips.
Remus caught the slight movement and stared hungrily at his mouth. Sirius chose to take that as a hint. He leaned closer to kiss Remus. Remus hesitated for a moment and then pulled back slightly. “Close your eyes,” Remus said, and Sirius knew better than to disobey.
He felt the mattress dip slightly as Remus moved closer to him. A hand slid up his arm and came to rest on the side of his neck. Remus used his thumb to trace the line of Sirius’s jaw and then to stroke across Sirius’s lips. Sirius parted his lips under the gentle pressure and licked the pad of the thumb. Remus stroked across his lips again and moistened them. Sirius opened his mouth just a bit more, trying to capture the thumb within his mouth, but Remus shifted his hand back, tangling his fingers in Sirius’s hair. At the same moment, Remus’s other hand slid up Sirius’s bent leg.
Sirius wasn’t yet fully aroused, but he was well on his way and glad of it. From a vanity standpoint, he preferred being erect before the remainder of his clothes came off. He figured he might look a bit more “worthy” of Remus’s attentions at his full length. From a practical standpoint, he didn’t want his own lack of arousal to cause Remus to have second thoughts about Sirius’s willingness to participate.
Remus’s hands were now touching him both over and under his shirt. As one of Remus’s hands slipped into the boxers and brushed his hip, Sirius reached out to touch Remus as well. Remus grasped his wrist and prevented the contact.
“Lay back against the pillows,” Remus whispered in his ear. Sirius shivered, but whether from the warm breath across his cheek and ear, or the light touch of Remus stroking his cock through the thin cotton of his boxers, he did not know or care. Sirius edged back against the pillows piled up at the head of the bed and watched with half-lidded eyes as Remus pushed up his shirt to expose his belly and chest. Sirius found himself wishing that he still had the toned body of his youth instead of the half-starved remnant that Azkaban had left him. Remus licked up the centre of his belly and continued up farther to his throat. There, Remus did not lick or kiss or even bite. He merely inhaled deeply while he nuzzled his nose against Sirius’s hair and throat. Sirius tried to kiss him again, but again Remus pulled away.
A moment later, Sirius found his boxers being swept away. As he arched up to lift himself off the bed so they could be removed, Remus’s mouth was suddenly down around his cock. Sirius gasped in pleasure. Hot, and wet, and the stroking of Remus’s lips and tongue—Sirius couldn’t remember ever feeling anything so perfect. Remus pushed Sirius’s legs farther apart and stopped sucking just long enough to reposition himself between Sirius’s legs. Sirius watched as Remus went down again, but this time he licked and sucked on Sirius’s balls while his hand stroked the slick cock and kept it from feeling neglected. When Remus licked his way back to the tip of the cock again, his fingers stroked firmly just below Sirius’s balls. The stroking created deep waves of pleasure and made the sensations around his cock even more intense.
Sirius’s head fell back, and he tangled his fingers in Remus’s short hair. “God, you are good at this,” he breathed.
“Um-hmm,” Remus agreed. His mouth was around Sirius, and the vibrations of sound caused Sirius to moan. Remus chuckled at the reaction, and the vibrations of his laughter were even more intense. Sirius couldn’t resist the urge to thrust up into the warm, wet mouth. Remus braced his hands on either side of Sirius’s hips and shifted the angle of his head. Suddenly Sirius was in deeper than he had ever imagined possible. It was all too much, and he felt the waves of pleasure as he came inside Remus’s throat.
Remus drew his mouth away, but no sooner had Sirius whimpered at the anticipated loss of contact then Remus began to lick the length of the still erect cock. If Remus hadn’t swallowed all of the semen, Sirius would have imagined that Remus was licking him clean. Sirius slipped his hand inside the collar of the sweater that Remus still wore.
“You’re wearing too much,” Sirius said with a smile. He opened his eyes as Remus knelt back on his heels. Remus had a slightly smug smile as if he knew that he had given Sirius the best the blowjob of his life. “Wow,” Sirius stated as his eyes closed again. He needed a moment—just a moment—and then he’d do something about the fact that Remus was still fully clothed. He still felt a bit nervous about reciprocating, but he felt so good that he was ready to try anything.
He felt Remus move off the mattress, undoubtedly to disrobe. He opened his eyes to watch—just in time to see Remus go into his own room and close the door.
Remus cast a locking charm on the door. It was a simple one, but it was enough to tell Sirius to stay out. He leaned back against the door and rubbed his hand over his cock. He was achingly hard. He fumbled with his belt, desperate to touch himself. When their beds stood side by side in the dormitory, he’d heard Sirius pant and moan as he brought himself to orgasm. He hadn’t been able to resist stroking himself then either. But hearing him tonight, and knowing that he himself was making Sirius feel that good, he’d come so close just from the sounds. And the scent. And the taste.
“Remus?” Sirius knocked softly on the door. “What’s wrong? Why did you leave?”
Remus kept his eyes closed, focusing on Sirius’s scent and the taste of his skin. He didn’t need to stroke hard, just enough to imagine that he was sliding against Sirius’s skin.
“Moony? Talk to me. Please?”
“Go away.” It came out harsher than he meant it to, but he was so close, too close to explain. He remembered the feel of Sirius thrusting into his mouth, of Sirius wanting him. Remus stifled a cry as he came all over his hand and belly. He slid down the door and sat leaning against it.
He didn’t feel as good as he should. He’d heard the worry in Sirius’s voice. He needed to explain why he’d left so abruptly. Sirius was probably brooding. In fact, he wouldn’t be surprised to find a large furry ball just outside his door right now. “Padfoot can smell me,” Remus realized. He cast a cleaning charm on himself to remove all traces of semen. It would be hard enough to explain his choice to leave when he did without it being obvious that he’d resorting to wanking off.
“Leaving was the right choice,” Remus assured himself as he refastened his clothing. If he’d stayed in Sirius’s bedroom, in Sirius’s bed, for one more moment, Sirius would have felt obligated to reciprocate in some fashion, and that was the last thing Remus wanted. The spectre of Alex Vraci still hung over him. He could only imagine how disgusted Alex had been by the things he’d done with Remus. Remus couldn’t bear ever giving Sirius cause to feel the same. By encouraging Sirius to close his eyes, and by discouraging Sirius from touching him, he’d given Sirius tacit permission to fantasize that he was with a woman instead. There was no way for Sirius to continue to pretend if he actually had to touch Remus.
Remus climbed to his feet carefully—his knee had bothered him since his last transformation and kneeling on the bed had aggravated it—and released the locking charm on the door. Sirius was indeed brooding, but he was still human and in front of the fireplace instead of the door.
“I hate that door,” Sirius growled without taking his eyes off the glowing coals. Remus came closer and sat on the floor beside Sirius. “You said no more silences, but every time something goes wrong, you either lock yourself in there or leave the house altogether.”
“I’m sorry. I just needed to be alone for a few minutes.”
“I shouldn’t have pressured you into doing that. Do you hate me?”
“Of course not, Padfoot.” Sirius was still staring into the fire, and Remus knew that humour was usually the best way to jolt Sirius out of brooding. He put an arm around Sirius’s shoulders. “I must like you at least a little bit. After all, I did swallow, didn’t I?”
Sirius smiled. “Lydia Bagshot.”
“Pardon?”
“Wouldn’t swallow. Other than her aversion to the taste, she was quite good at it. Nowhere near as good as you, but at the time, I was impressed.”
“I can do better. I figured after a decade and a half of celibacy, you didn’t require all the bells and whistles.”
“Oh? Please tell me we’re doing this again.”
Remus pretended to consider for a moment. “Well, since I don’t have a Christmas present for you yet—”
“Forget it,” Sirius said abruptly. “I shouldn’t have asked.” He turned his head to look at Remus. Half of his face was bathed in the ruddy light of the fire, and half was lost to shadow. His eyes looked deep into Remus’s own, something Sirius rarely did as he knew of the wolf’s aversion to staring. He seemed to looking for—something. “Why did you leave the room?”
“You—uh—got me a bit ‘hot and bothered,’ and I,” Remus shrugged, “had to take care of the situation.”
“That’s generally a reason to stay in bed with someone, not to leave.”
“I didn’t want to involve you.”
“Why? I thought you still felt something for me. I’ve felt the way you touch my skin at night when you think I’m asleep. And sometimes you kiss my hair, but you wouldn’t even kiss me tonight, and you wouldn’t let me touch you.”
“I didn’t think you’d want to.”
“I tried to kiss you, didn’t I?”
“What do you want, Sirius? Really?”
Sirius turned back to looking at the fire. He was silent for several moments, and Remus wondered if he would ever answer the question.
“I know that I only sleep soundly when you’re beside me,” Sirius said at last, “and I know that I like how it feels when you touch me. What do I want? I want you to spend the night with me without our needing the excuse of my nightmares. I want to be able to touch you the way you touch me. I want to know what it feels like to kiss you. But most of all,” he looked at Remus with a smile, “I want to get off this floor because it’s really cold when you’re only wearing a shirt.”
“Yes, you do look a bit cold,” Remus observed as glanced down at Sirius’s crotch. “To bed?”
Sirius stood up and extended a hand to Remus to help him up as well. Sirius returned to his bed without releasing Remus’s hand, as if he were afraid that Remus would leave again if he let go. “I need my hand back if I’m going to get undressed,” Remus pointed out.
Sirius got under the covers, shivering a bit at the sensation of cold sheets, and propped his head up with a hand beneath his chin while he watched Remus remove his sweater and trousers. When Remus climbed into bed wearing his vest and boxers, Sirius observed, “You’re still wearing too much clothing.”
“Ready for another go already, are you?”
“Just want to see you.” Sirius’s hand was already cupped around the side Remus’s throat as Remus lay down beside him. He copied Remus’s earlier actions, stroking the line of his jaw and across his lips. “Am I allowed to kiss you now?” In answer, Remus closed the distance between them and kissed Sirius.
The kiss was tentative, cautious, as if Remus was still worried about Sirius’s reaction despite Sirius’s words. But Sirius enjoyed their first kiss anyway. Physically, it was no different than kissing a girl. Emotionally, it was better. Sirius had cared about his former girlfriends, but he’d not been under any illusion that he loved any of them. But Remus, he’d loved Remus as a friend for most of his life. It was nice to kiss someone he loved. Sirius tried to kiss him again, intending to deepen the kiss this time, but Remus pulled back and looked at him searchingly.
“Will you promise me something, Padfoot?”
“Of course.”
“Promise me you won’t do anything with me because you think it’s what I want. I only want to go as far as you want to go. I’d rather have this be the most one-sided sexual relationship in history than have you do something that makes you uncomfortable.”
Sirius was tempted to say that he was “up for anything” or some other pathetic attempt at humour, but the truth was, he was nervous about certain acts—especially after Padfoot’s last romp with the wolf—and Remus wouldn’t believe him if he didn’t admit it. Remus wanted assurance that Sirius knew his own boundaries and would abide by them. So, he nodded. “I promise, if you promise me something. No more running away instead of talking to me.”
“I think I can do that.”
January 1996
“I miss the kids.”
“They only left yesterday.”
“I know, but the house is so quiet without them.” Sirius pushed aside his half-eaten dinner, leftovers of Molly’s cooking, and propped his feet up in front of the kitchen fire.
“After a few weeks with Fred and George, a nightclub would sound quiet.”
“I like them.”
“I knew you would.”
“I like all of Harry’s friends. He’s really got good people around him, doesn’t he?”
“Starting with his devastatingly handsome godfather.”
Sirius looked over at Remus and flashed him the smile that had melted the hearts of many young ladies at Hogwarts. “Well, if I’m devastatingly handsome, perhaps you should seduce me.”
“Perhaps I will, but not here.”
“Why, Mr. Moony, don’t tell me you’ll only have sex in the bedroom.”
“On the contrary, Mr. Padfoot. Kitchen tables are quite suitable; however, I’m not fond of locations where Kreacher is likely to walk in on us.”
“Bugger Kreacher.”
“I’d rather not.”
Sirius laughed. “Poor word choice. But really, do you care if we shock that little toe-rag?” As he spoke, he walked around the table to Remus, pushed his empty plate aside, and sat on the table with his feet on Remus’s chair, straddling him. He’d chosen to wear a pair of Remus’s Muggle jeans today just to enjoy the way Remus’s eyes kept following him everywhere.
“No.” Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius’s waist and pulled him closer. “But you should consider that he won’t approve, and if he doesn’t approve, he’ll mutter about it, and if he mutters about it, everyone who sets foot in this house will hear about it.” Remus inclined his head and rubbed his nose against Sirius’s crotch, inhaling his scent. When he looked up again at Sirius, it wasn’t hard to imagine the wolf behind his eyes. “Here? Or upstairs?”
“Upstairs,” Sirius answered immediately. He wasn’t quite ready to risk Snape discovering from Kreacher that he’d joined the ranks of the shirt-lifters.
Remus left the kitchen without waiting to see if Sirius would follow. The full moon was tomorrow, and he was the alpha of their tiny pack. He trusted his packmate to follow where he led.
No sooner had Sirius locked the bedroom door then Remus had him up against the wall. He was kissing him so hard that Sirius thought they’d draw blood. One of Remus’s hands held Sirius’s hand pinned to the wall above his head, and the other was desperately yanking Sirius’s shirt out of the waistband of his jeans. Even through the many layers of clothing, Sirius could feel Remus’s erect cock grinding against his own.
“Not nice to tease me like that,” Remus murmured as he moved on to grazing his teeth against Sirius’s jaw and throat, “especially tonight. God, I want to fuck you.”
Even if Sirius had been ready, he knew he wasn’t ready for the way it would be tonight. Tonight, Remus was almost more wolf than human. But since he was dealing with the wolf, Sirius wasn’t sure he still had a choice. He slid his hand between them to stroke against Remus and reassure him that no, he wasn’t teasing this time, even as he said, “Not yet. Anything else.”
“I know,” Remus gritted out through his teeth. He slid his hands under Sirius’s sweater and swept it upward. He resumed kissing Sirius hungrily even as he tugged at the buttons on Sirius’s shirt. Sirius heard at least two skitter across the bare floor. “I know,” Remus murmured again as he began to lick and kiss his way down Sirius’s chest and belly. “Just want you.”
They’d come close just a few nights previously. After engaging in the human equivalent of canine seduction—“rimming” Remus had called it—Remus had taken advantage of Sirius’s still very canine positioning to rub his cock between the cheeks of Sirius’s arse. He must have noticed the way Sirius tensed, for he had immediately reassured him that he wouldn’t go in.
Remus was now on his knees before Sirius, and trying to unfasten his belt. Sirius took over unfastening his jeans while Remus rubbed his cheek against Sirius’s inner thigh and breathed in his scent.
Sirius managed to get his jeans and boxers pushed down as far as his knees. Sirius couldn’t help but think that he looked ridiculous. Trapped inside his own clothing and cock sticking straight out like he was riding a small broomstick. At least when one was erect and laying down, one’s cock lay along the belly, was a part of you. Of course, it didn’t look ridiculous sticking out when it was disappearing into Remus’s mouth. He loved watching that. He looked down at Remus and saw the hungry way Remus was staring at him—staring at him, but not touching him.
“Moony?” Sirius combed his fingers through Remus’s hair. Remus looked up at him with the same predatory glint he’d seen in the kitchen.
“Fuck me,” Remus said.
They’d never done that either, but Sirius thought it couldn’t be that different from having sex with a woman. Perhaps he was a bit uncomfortable with the idea, but as he looked into Remus’s eyes and saw the desire, the hunger there, he knew he wasn’t uncomfortable enough to say, “No.” He nodded.
Remus was back on his feet in the blink of an eye. He kissed Sirius deeply again—only for a few moments—and headed for the bed, stripping off his clothes as he went. Sirius struggled to remove his boots so he could finish undressing and follow.
Remus already had the now familiar tube of lubricant in hand. Familiar because it made rubbing against one another oh so nice—and why, oh why, had Remus never informed the younger Sirius how nice it could make a simple handjob? Of course, lubricant was only part of the reason such simple stimulation was better now. The fact that it was Remus’s talented hands instead of Sirius wanking off alone in a cold bed made an even larger difference.
As Sirius crawled toward Remus on the bed, Remus reached beneath him and stroked a generous amount of lube onto Sirius’s achingly firm cock. The warmth of Remus’s hands had warmed the lube slightly, but it was still cool compared to the blood-engorged heat of his cock. The contrast made Sirius hyper-aware of the way Remus’s fingers were encircling and stroking him. As the encircling fingers stroked down firmly one last time and then released him, Sirius knew that he wanted to be encircled by heat. He wanted to be inside Remus.
Remus lay back underneath Sirius and wrapped his legs high around Sirius’s back. This surprised Sirius slightly. Somehow he’d always imagined that entering from behind—“doggy style,” appropriately enough—was the only position for anal intercourse. He was surprised, but pleased, that he would be able to see Remus’s face.
Remus’s eyes hadn’t lost the feral gleam they’d had since Sirius had begun trying to tempt Remus in the kitchen. Sirius felt the same thrill he had the first time he’d ever seen the wolf’s eyes. The same thrill he’d felt as he bared his belly to the wolf and waited to learn if Padfoot would be accepted as a packmate, or attacked as a rival.
Remus guided Sirius’s cock into position and pressed against him. Sirius could feel the tip of his cock was pressed against Remus, against the puckered opening into Remus’s body, but it was just too tight. He pressed against Remus, but he couldn’t slide in. “I was wrong,” he thought, “it’s nothing like sex with a girl.”
“Do it!” Remus ordered.
“I can’t. You’re too—” but Sirius never got to finish what he was saying. Remus tightened his legs and thrust up against him. Suddenly, “too tight” was gloriously, wonderfully tight. Sirius gasped at how perfect it felt. “Oh…Moony.”
But he barely had a moment to enjoy it before Remus growled and rolled them both over so he was looking down at Sirius. Sirius realized they might have been naïve to think that the wolf would allow this. He’d made it clear during the full moon that he would mount his mate but not be mounted. Sirius was still nervous about the prospect, but not as much as he’d been only moments ago. He’d always loved the wolf—the fierceness, the untameable nature, the grace and purpose inherent in his every movement—and at this moment, he saw the wolf more clearly in Remus than he’d ever seen before. Whatever Remus wanted of him, he could have.
“Can’t,” Remus said as leaned down to graze his teeth along the side of Sirius’s throat.
“I know,” Sirius said as he turned his head and exposed his throat more fully. “Anything, Moony, anything you want.”
Despite their relative change of positions, it was still Sirius who was inside Remus. He expected that to change at any moment, but Remus’s lupine side seemed appeased as long as he was on top. As they found a mutual rhythm, Sirius thought he just might die of pure pleasure, and judging from the blissful expression on Remus’s face, the feeling was mutual. Remus slipped a hand between them, and Sirius could feel the knuckles of Remus’s hand stroking across his belly as Remus fisted his own cock in time to their rocking together. Sirius licked his palm and joined Remus in the stroking, their fingers entwined and Remus’s cock between their palms.
Remus couldn’t seem to get enough of kissing and licking him, and Sirius responded in kind. He didn’t know which he loved more, the heat of Remus encircling him, or the way Remus seemed to need his kisses. Remus’s breathing shortened into pants, and suddenly Sirius felt the tight heat of Remus’s body squeeze around him even more tightly. Hot, slick semen spurted onto Sirius’s belly. He swiped his fingers through it and stoked it onto Remus’s cock before he even finishing coming. Remus moaned with pleasure, and Sirius was gone.
“Mmm,” Sirius opened his eyes slowly and saw Remus smiling down at him. Smiling, but with worry lines creasing between his brows. Sirius smiled back and closed his eyes again. “Whatever you’re worrying about, Moony, stop it.”
Remus lay down beside him and Sirius responded by turning on his side toward him and entangling their legs together. Remus began to place soft kisses all over his face. “I’m sorry,” Remus whispered between kisses. “I pushed you into that before you were ready.”
“No, I wanted to.” Sirius opened his eyes and saw from Remus’s still worried expression that he didn’t believe him. “Honestly, I would have said ‘No,’ if I didn’t. I said, ‘No,’ to the other way around didn’t I?” Remus nodded. “Although for a minute there, I had the impression that I wasn’t getting a choice.”
“You almost didn’t. I should have stayed away from you tonight—too close to the moon.”
“Bite your tongue. Tonight was the best yet.” Remus still looked doubtful, but not as worried. “And next time, after the full moon, I won’t say, ‘No,’ to the other way around.”
Remus began to shake his head. “No, you don’t have to—”
“Remus, I want to.” And he did.
Maybe he wasn’t supposed to desire Remus, but he did. He maybe he was supposed to desire the “otherness” of women in sexual partners, but it had always been Remus’s “otherness,” his mix of human and lupine, that had intrigued him. “I want to be with Remus, and Remus wants to be with me,” he thought. “That matters more than all the supposed to’s in the world.”
* * * * *
“Gorgeous,” Remus breathed as he trailed his fingers down Sirius’s bare arm. Sirius thought that perhaps Remus still imagined him as he once was, for “gorgeous” was an adjective that hadn’t applied to him in a very long time. He smiled ruefully and kissed Remus for saying it.
“Used to be. Now you, on the other hand, have improved with age.”
Remus laughed. “We might need to get you some glasses. I’m skinny, scarred, and going grey.”
“You aren’t skinny; you’re—wiry. You’re all muscle. And your scars are beautiful.” Sirius traced his finger along a particularly long one on Remus’s belly. He’d done that one sometime during the first year after he’d lost his friends. “They tell the story of how much you’ve been through, and that you’ve survived it all. They tell how strong you are. And as for the grey, I like it. It reminds me of your fur.” Sirius reached up to comb his fingers through the grey at Remus’s temple.
Remus was tempted to say something he shouldn’t, but he bit his lip and resisted. Sirius wanted to be his friend and his lover, but Sirius didn’t want to know that Remus was in love with him.
“Do you remember how much I loved to pet your fur when you were Padfoot?”
“Um-hmm,” Sirius murmured as he turned to spoon up against Remus’s belly. He liked having Remus’s arm around him while he slept. “I was a right whore for it too. I kept transforming and jumping up on your bed.”
“Your fur reminded me of your hair, the same glossy black.” Remus began to stroke Sirius’s hair as he spoke. “I was rather obsessed with your hair. I wanted to touch it so badly, but I knew I couldn’t. But when you were Padfoot, I was allowed to touch you.”
“I wish you’d told me how you felt,” Sirius said sleepily.
“You weren’t ready to hear it.”
“No, I wasn’t. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. You’re here now.”
April 1996
“Are you all right?” Remus asked as he closed the drawing room door behind him.
Sirius didn’t turn around; he continued to stare out the window at the street and the muddy square. “Dumbledore send you to check on me?”
“No, I was just worried.” Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius and rested his head on his shoulder. “The meeting’s breaking up now.”
“I’m sorry that I bolted before it was over.”
“It’s all right. Snape was riding you pretty hard.” Remus held Sirius a bit tighter and placed a kiss on the side of his throat.
“He’s right. You wouldn’t have to do more than your share of risky missions if I were doing my share.”
“We’re all doing as much as we can, no more and no less. Look at me.” Sirius allowed the curtain to fall closed, turned reluctantly, and wrapped his arms around Remus. “Dung and I are doing this because we’re the best suited. Wards and security spells are my specialty, and Dung knows more about sneaking into people’s homes than all the rest of us combined. Even if you didn’t have to stay here, it would still be Dung and I doing this reconnaissance, not you.” Sirius nodded, but he didn’t seem convinced. “And since when did you start listening to Snivellus?”
Sirius smiled a bit at Remus’s use of the nickname. It was rare for Remus to use it, so Sirius knew it had been for his benefit. He kissed him and then asked, “Why do you put up with me?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re a good kisser,” Remus pushed the black fringe back and out of Sirius’s eyes, “or maybe because you know how to do that cute puppy-eyes thing even when you’re—”
In the half second between the click of the door handle and the door’s opening, Sirius had pushed Remus away and taken a step back. When Dung poked his head into the room, they were a discrete distance apart, just two friends having a chat.
“There’s something I need to go do, but I’ll be back by seven,” Mundungus promised. “I’ll pick up some of that curry you like, Sirius, and the three of us can have dinner before Remus and I go back out.” Sirius nodded, and Mundungus pulled the door shut again.
Remus’s eyes were averted from Sirius, and he headed for the door as well. “I should get ready for tonight—notes to look over.”
Sirius had spent years learning to read Remus Lupin, and the fact that Remus was upset and trying not to show it did not escape his notice. The cause was easy to deduce. Between the moment they’d kissed and now, Sirius had only done one thing.
“I’m sorry I pushed you away.”
“No, it’s fine,” Remus said. He smiled back at Sirius as he paused before opening the door. “Dung was coming in the room.”
“I thought it might be Snape,” Sirius explained.
“Even more embarrassing. He’s probably prepared an entire scroll of insults calling you my ‘bitch’ and the like, and is just waiting for the opportunity to—”
“I’m not embarrassed about this, about us,” Sirius insisted as he quickly crossed the floor and reached out for Remus’s hand.
Remus smiled sadly. “It’s all right, really. Remember me, so far in the closet that even you and James didn’t know? I can understand that we need to be discrete.”
“I’m tired of ‘discrete’,” Sirius grumbled. “I just don’t want Snape to know.”
Remus smiled in amusement. “Trust me; you have three choices. You can tell no one—effective but isolating. You can tell everyone—and be prepared for the consequences. Or you can tell a very small number and swear them to secrecy. But you cannot tell ‘everyone’ except one person; it won’t work.”
“Snape might tell Harry.”
“See. You’re already up to two people you don’t want to know about us,” Remus pointed out.
“No, I just don’t want Snape to be the one who tells Harry. I should.”
Remus didn’t answer. He merely stared at Sirius in surprise. Sirius realized that he might have gone a step too far again. He had to stop assuming that Remus wanted whatever he wanted and making decisions that affected both of them. He looked down at their clasped hands and rubbed his thumb over Remus’s hand. “Unless you don’t want me to,” Sirius added.
“No, I—you’re sure? You want to tell Harry about us?”
Sirius looked up warily through his fringe of dark hair. “I know he might not react well, being raised by people only slightly more open-minded than my own dear parents, but I don’t want to keep us a secret from him. It’s bad enough that we can’t tell him about the prophecy until he improves at Occlumency, but another secret on top of that—”
“What are we?”
“What do you mean?”
“Before you tell him about ‘us,’ you need to define what ‘we’ are. He’ll ask.”
Sirius shrugged. “Well, I love you, and you love me. We are whatever that makes us.”
Remus stared in surprise again. Being in love was momentous, relationship-defining, relationship-changing. Nothing was ever the same again after those words were said, and so Remus had never dared say them. Trust Sirius to do the unexpected and say it as if it were an accepted matter of fact. Remus must have been silent a moment too long, for Sirius began to look worried again.
“You do love me, don’t you, Moony?”
Remus nodded, and Sirius beamed. Remus could think of no other word for it. Sirius’s emotions were as changeable as the weather, and his face reflected it all. Sirius’s happy smile lit up his entire face, and Remus basked in the warmth of it. Remus smiled back and held Sirius’s hand tighter.
“You should smile like that more often, Moony. It looks good on you.”
June 1996
Remus wandered around the room looking at the photos, touching the glass over this one and then that. Ginny’s brothers had given her a camera for Christmas, and she had taken numerous photographs during the Christmas holiday. Upon her return to school, her friend Colin had taught her how to develop the film. She’d sent copies of many of them back to Sirius and Remus via her parents. Sirius had framed each and every one and put them in their bedroom. These were the only recent photographs he had of Sirius.
And if he had given in to his temptation to destroy all his photos of Sirius back in 1981, they would have been his only photos of Sirius at all. In the end, he’d only spared most of the photos of Sirius because so many of them had James or Peter in them as well. He’d merely packed them away and didn’t look at them again until the letter from Hagrid had arrived.
Just as in the old photos, these photos all showed Sirius surrounded by others. Sirius playing chess with Ron while Harry looked on and Hermione peeked over the edge of her book trying not to look interested. Sirius teaching Fred and George how they had turned the Slytherin common room into a swamp their fifth year. Sirius as part of the crowd surrounding the table bearing Molly’s Christmas feast. Sirius was a social person; he had needed to be surrounded by friends. Remus believed that the greatest tragedy of his friend’s brief life was how often he had been alone.
Remus picked up the photo of himself with Sirius, Tonks, and Dung. It was the closest he had to a photo of just the two of them. “Just one of Sirius’s friends,” he said. “Just one of the crowd.” He wanted a photo of the two of them. It seemed so unfair that somewhere in the files of the Ministry of Magic, there was a photograph in which he was kissing Alex Vraci, but the only photo of Sirius and himself which even came close—in which a slightly intoxicated Sirius had pulled a very embarrassed looking Remus onto his lap at James and Lily’s wedding and kissed him on the cheek—he had torn into small pieces and burned years ago.
Remus put the photo back down on the bedside table and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. It was time to go feed Buckbeak.
—Written February 2004
Chapter Four: Understandings
December 1995
Remus was back in England before the full moon, but he did not return to Grimmauld Place. He slept on Kingsley’s sofa two nights, and rather than overstay his welcome there, he spent one night at the Burrow. He returned home on the day of the full moon.
Sirius was running down the stairs as Remus entered the house, and Remus realized that Sirius had seen his arrival from an upstairs window. Sirius made it as far as the last stair before the look on Remus’s face made him stop in his tracks.
“Hi. I’ve been worried about you,” Sirius said. He spoke quietly so as not to awaken his mother.
“You knew I was back, didn’t you?”
Sirius nodded. “Tonks told me yesterday.” He stepped down off the bottom stair but came no closer.
“I’m not staying here tonight.”
“You didn’t get back in time to take Wolfsbane Potion this week, right?” Remus nodded. “I was afraid that might happen, so I got the cellar ready. I got rid of all the red caps, Tonks helped me with the boggart down there, and I strengthened the—”
“No, I’m not staying. I arranged to go to the Ministry’s containment facility.”
Sirius started to step forward but checked himself. “But you hate it there.”
“Yes, I do hate it there, but I can’t stay here, can I?”
“The cellar’s secure; you won’t get out. Come and see.” Sirius grabbed Remus by the arm and tried to lead him toward the kitchen and the cellar. Remus yanked his arm out of Sirius’s grasp and took a step back rather than do what he really wanted to do—slam Sirius against the wall.
“That’s not the point,” Remus said in a low and angry voice. “I wouldn’t stay here even if I had taken the potion. I can’t trust you anymore.”
Sirius’s eyes became fearful. “I said I was sorry. I won’t try anything again.”
“You’re only sorry that it wasn’t the fun fuck you thought it would be! You aren’t sorry that you betrayed me!”
Shouting was a mistake. The last of Remus’s words were drowned out by even louder screams and shouts of Sirius’s mother. She berated her son for allowing the “flea-bitten beast” back into the house, and Sirius shouted right back at her as he tugged the curtains back into place over her. Remus just wanted to tear her to shreds—or maybe he wanted to do that to Sirius instead. He realized that the day of the full moon was the wrong day to confront Sirius about this. He decided to retreat where Sirius could not follow, outside. He hesitated just before he opened the door, pulled a much-folded parchment from his pocket, and left it behind on the table by the front door.
Sirius tugged the curtains closed and turned to deal with his angry friend. “Shit!” He ran to door and yanked it open, hoping that Remus hadn’t gotten far. Sirius stood with one foot inside and one on the top step while he looked around desperately. He was tempted—so tempted—to transform and pursue Remus’s scent. But he knew it was hopeless. If Remus was already out of sight, he had undoubtedly apparated away from the neighbourhood.
Mundungus Fletcher arrived late the next morning to find an unshaven Sirius sitting at the kitchen table with a cold cup of tea before him.
“Just dropping off a few items Moody wanted me to acquire,” Fletcher said cheerfully as he prepared a new pot of tea. “Almost brought them by last night, but remembered it was the full moon. Found this on the table in the hall.” He tossed a folded piece of parchment in front of Sirius. “Looks like a letter to you. Remus sleeping? You look like it was a long night.”
“He’s not here.”
“No? Why do you look like hell then?”
Sirius did not answer. He had already unfolded the parchment and begun to read.
Dear Sirius,
Yet another letter to you that I have no intention of sending. At least this time, I’m not writing because I can’t see you face to face, but rather because I intend to. You deserve to hear from me that I won’t spend any more full moons with you. I guess I’m trying to organize my thoughts before I tell you.
I just don’t know where to begin to make you understand how deeply hurt and betrayed I feel. I tried to tell you before I left, but I really couldn’t handle being in the same room with you. Too tempted to kill you. Or fuck you—and that would have been a bit counterproductive to telling you that I’m angry. On second thought, given how sore you were, it might have proven my point rather nicely.
I’m rambling. How to get back on topic? My patronus. You know that Padfoot is my patronus. Have you ever considered why? Padfoot protects me from the wolf. I hate—I loathe—I fear becoming the wolf. I hate the way my ability to think
From the first full moon you spent with me, I got back control. When you were with me, my human side wasn’t buried as deeply. More importantly, I trusted you to control the wolf for me. You may have looked like a dog, but you were a dog with a human intellect and a lion’s courage. I knew you’d keep the wolf—keep me—out of trouble. You protected me from what the wolf might do. You never let the wolf do anything that you knew I wasn’t willing to do. Even when we disagreed about where to go, or how far, come moonrise I knew that I could trust you to prevent me from doing anything I wouldn’t be willing to do.
But last month, you did just the opposite. I was already teetering on the edge. I was clinging to humanity by my fingernails, trying not to fall into an abyss of the wolf’s desires and instincts. Even taking that vile potion and making sure I’d had sex recently, I could barely keep the wolf off you. And what did you do? You deliberately pushed me over the edge.
I’d made a decision. I’d chosen not to have sex with you. You knew that’s how I felt. You didn’t agree with my decision, but I trusted you to abide by it. My trust was misplaced. You merely waited until I wasn’t capable of deciding or choosing or objecting, and you made the decision for both of us.
Do you have any idea how much this reminds me of sixth year? You didn’t consult me on that decision either, even though my life would have been significantly changed if you’d succeeded.
Elphias is snoring again. He’s had a cold for three days now and refuses to take Pepper-Up or anything else. It’s his problem during the day, but since we could only get one room, his cold becomes my problem at night. We’ll be back in England tomorrow (barring anymore unforeseen delays) but it’s too late. I should have started taking my potion two nights ago. Well, at least it’ll keep me from being tempted to cave in and spend the full moon with you. Without the potion—and with the wolf now having no doubts that Padfoot is his mate—you wouldn’t stand a chance. And I think you’d agree that getting buggered by a wolf is not your idea of a good time.
The letter ended there, unsigned. As if it mattered. Sirius knew Remus’s handwriting as well as his own, the context made the author blatantly clear, and even Remus’s dark sense of humour showed through. Saying that his life would have been “significantly changed” if he’d been executed for killing Snape. If the rest of the letter hadn’t already filled Sirius with remorse for his actions, that paragraph alone could have accomplished the task. He’d sworn that he’d never betray Remus’s trust like that again, yet Remus was telling him that he had.
“Bad news?” Mundungus asked when he saw that Sirius had finished reading.
“Is there any other kind?”
“Cheer up, mate,” Mundungus said as he clapped Sirius on the shoulder and stood to leave. “Christmas in a few weeks. Peace on Earth. Goodwill toward men. All that rot. I’ll be back next Wednesday. Anything I can get for you?”
“Yeah, another bottle of firewhiskey.”
Mundungus paused on his way out the door. They both knew that Mundungus had just brought him two bottles a few weeks ago. Mundungus nodded. “See you Wednesday, Sirius.”
Remus was in a rented room in a small fishing village when Tonks’s owl, Iggy, found him. He was pleased to see Sirius’s familiar curvy hand. He’d wasted too many years being angry with Sirius. Remus wanted to forgive him, and he was hopeful that Sirius had found the right words to make him do so. After summoning one of the mice from the nest inside the wall to be Iggy’s breakfast, Remus climbed back into his own warm nest of blankets to read his letter.
Dear Remus,
I’m always bollocksing things up, aren’t I? I’m so, so sorry that I let you down like that. I never meant to hurt you, and I swear I didn’t mean to betray you. I know how important staying in control is to you. I didn’t realize that I would be “pushing you over the edge,” as you put it. I didn’t know that you were having trouble maintaining control around me. You never told me. I guess I overestimated how effective the Wolfsbane Potion is. I thought that the wolf would be strong enough to help me convince you, but I thought you’d make the decision.
I thought it would be like when we were in school. James and I would come up with a great idea, and we could tell that you wanted to go along with it, but you’d start overthinking it and decide not to do it. But if we waited until the wolf was strong to ask you, when the moon was waxing gibbous, you’d be less likely to overthink it and more likely to give in to what you really wanted to do.
Now that I’m writing this, I realize how deceitful that sounds. We didn’t mean it to be. Even then, you wouldn’t agree unless you really wanted to do it. That’s what I thought the full moon with Wolfsbane Potion would be like. You wouldn’t do anything unless you really wanted to. I was just trying to get you past thinking of all the reasons we shouldn’t have sex and focus on the two reasons we should. I wanted to, and you wanted to. At least, I was hoping you did.
Please come back for Christmas. I promise that I won’t put up any mistletoe.
Padfoot
Sirius had succeeded—more than succeeded. Not only was Remus no longer angry, but he was forced to confront the fact that he bore an equal share of the blame. His lie by omission, not telling Sirius how vulnerable he was even with Wolfsbane, had set this entire fiasco in motion. They were both to blame; they would put that behind them. The question was, what would they do about the future?
Remus hoped he could finish his discussions with the small group of local werewolves soon. He wanted to go home for Christmas.
The strange Christmas decorations in the front hall caught Remus by surprise but were a welcome sight. He was glad to see that Sirius was trying to be cheerful even in these highly trying circumstances. He heard a small explosion followed by laughter in the drawing room. Remus smiled. He’d know Fred and George’s laughter anywhere, and if the Weasleys were here, so was Harry. The reason Sirius had decorated for Christmas was explained.
Remus banished his bag and his cloak to his room before he joined the group in the drawing room. Sirius was playing Exploding Snap with Harry, Fred, and Ginny. George and Ron sat close by. The soot on their faces indicated that they’d recently been eliminated from the game. Hermione was nearest the door, curled up in a chair with a rather weighty book. She looked up at him and smiled.
“Welcome back, Professor. Happy Christmas.”
“Happy Christmas, Hermione.”
Remus looked over at the card players again. Sirius had looked up upon hearing Hermione and Remus. He watched Remus expectantly, wanting to know if he was forgiven. Remus smiled, and Sirius’s face lit up. Remus couldn’t help it; he grinned back.
“Sirius,” Ginny called his attention back to the game. Rather than interrupt, Remus decided to head down to the kitchen. His only meal in the last twelve hours had been a cup of weak tea and a slightly stale roll. Remus was almost to the kitchen doorway when he heard someone running to catch up with him.
“I didn’t do it!” Sirius said in a rush as he grabbed Remus by the arm to prevent his entering the kitchen.
“Do what?”
Sirius pushed open the door and pointed to a sprig of mistletoe hanging in midair just inside. “Once it’s over someone’s head, it won’t leave until he or she is kissed by someone, but I swear I didn’t do it.”
“Probably Fred or George trying to give Ron and Hermione an excuse to kiss,” Remus surmised as he tried to slip into the room without being “caught” by the enchanted mistletoe. He did not succeed. He stared up at it as it hovered above him and then looked back at Sirius with a bemused smile.
Sirius shook his head. “Not unless you ask me to, Moony.”
“Welcome back, Remus,” Molly Weasley said as came into the kitchen, taking off her cloak and hanging it on the peg she removed her apron from. She glanced at the mistletoe over Remus’s head. “Oh honestly.” She stood on tiptoe to give Remus a quick peck on the cheek, and the sprig of mistletoe drifted back to its place near the door. “I told those two I wanted that mistletoe gone or disenchanted by the time I got back from the hospital.”
“How’s Arthur?” Sirius asked.
“The healers think he’s out of danger, but they haven’t been able to stop—the bleed—bleeding yet—because—” her voice was beginning to catch in hiccupy little breaths, and her eyes welled up with tears.
Sirius glanced at Remus with alarm in his eyes. Offering comfort had never been his forte. Remus wrapped an arm around her and led her into a chair. He kept one arm around her and held her hand. Sirius offered her a handkerchief and took a seat opposite them at the table.
“I’m sorry,” she said as she dabbed at eyes and wiped under her nose. “I didn’t want—cry at the hospital—and I didn’t—want to cry in front—the children.”
“It’s fine, Molly,” Remus assured her. “You can cry with us. What did the healers say?”
“They can’t treat—properly because—don’t know type— of snake.” She took a deep shuddering breath and wiped more tears away. “They had to give him—antivenin potions,” another deep breath, “for several species, but n—none were exactly right. They don’t think it was a naturally occurring species of snake. Harry said that it was enormous, too big to be most poisonous snakes. Thank God that Harry had that vision. Arthur wouldn’t have survived a longer delay before being treated.”
The tears were still flowing down her face, but her breathing and speech had normalized. “Giving her permission to cry was exactly what she needed,” Sirius thought. “Trust Moony to know the right thing to do.”
Remus had been the first of the group to say good-night and head upstairs. He had said that he was tired from travelling, but Sirius had to wonder if Remus was going to bed early to avoid being with him. Molly had called it an evening immediately after Remus, and Sirius realized that he was the sole adult in the room full of teenagers. He suddenly felt very old. He was tempted to leave the room as well, but if Remus was trying to avoid having a discussion tonight, the least that Sirius could do was cooperate and delay going upstairs.
He watched Ron and Harry play a game of chess and had to exercise great restraint not to help Harry. He wasn’t a very good player; he wasn’t any better than Remus. Ron and Harry both seemed to accept Ron’s eventual victory as a foregone conclusion, but neither seemed to care. The game was just a way to spend time together. Watching Harry cheerfully lose at chess, Sirius could easily have imagined that his godson didn’t have a competitive bone in his body—if Remus hadn’t already told him how Harry had pushed himself to learn the Patronus Charm just so he could play Quidditch despite the presence of Dementors at Hogwarts.
“Want to play, Sirius?” Ron asked as Harry repaired the broken chess pieces.
“Tomorrow. I might go up to the library and read a bit. Good-night, everyone.” He patted Harry on the shoulder as he got up to leave.
“Good-night,” Harry and the others replied.
When he reached his floor, he saw that the door of his own room was ajar, and the light spilling out of the doorway drew him there instead of the library. He was surprised, but pleased, to see Remus sitting on Sirius’s bed and reading reports to catch up on what had been happening in his absence.
“Wondered how long it would take you to come up here,” Remus commented without looking up.
“I delayed,” Sirius replied as he shut the door. “I thought you might be avoiding talking with me.”
“If I wanted to avoid you,” Remus said as he put the reports aside and looked up at last, “I wouldn’t have come back here.”
Sirius sat cross-legged on the foot of the bed. This was familiar. He’d spent many hours sitting at the foot of Remus’s hospital bed explaining the lessons he’d missed or just keeping him company.
“What do you want, Sirius?”
“I think I made it clear what I wanted. I just picked the wrong way to go about it.”
“As much my fault as yours,” Remus dismissed it with a slight shake of his head. “I should have listened to your explanation before I left.”
“So, where do we go from here?” Sirius asked, echoing Remus’s own thoughts. “I just don’t understand why not, Moony. You used to want me. I know I don’t look half as good as I used to, but I’m not a troll either. And you do sleep around, so I know you’re not a hopeless romantic waiting for the love of your life to come along.”
Remus did not answer. He averted his eyes slightly to stare at the coals glowing in the fireplace grate. Sirius took that to mean that Remus had to consider it some more. During the week of the new moon, Remus tended toward careful, thoroughly considered decisions. Sirius decided to go to the bathroom and get ready for bed. After his last mistake, he didn’t want to make Remus feel like he was pressuring him to decide.
Remus was still sitting on the bed when Sirius returned, but the reports had been put away, and Remus was again watching Sirius instead of the fire.
“You can sleep in here if you want,” Sirius said as he sat on the edge of the bed to remove his shoes. “I promise I won’t try anything.” He stood to remove his robe and tossed it onto a nearby chair.
“Nox,” Remus incanted, and all the candles in the room extinguished. Sirius half turned to look back at Remus. His eyes were slightly luminous in the faint red glow of the fire, and he was watching Sirius with the predatory look that Sirius had glimpsed numerous times since their reunion last spring. Remus smiled slightly. “Are you just going to stand there?”
Sirius shook his head; he wasn’t sure he could speak at the moment, at least not intelligently. He sat back down on the edge of the bed, one leg cocked so he could face Remus. Remus’s eyes travelled down his body, now clad only in a thin vest and boxers, and back up to Sirius’s face. Sirius felt his mouth go dry—he’d thought he was ready, but now he was nervous—and licked his lips.
Remus caught the slight movement and stared hungrily at his mouth. Sirius chose to take that as a hint. He leaned closer to kiss Remus. Remus hesitated for a moment and then pulled back slightly. “Close your eyes,” Remus said, and Sirius knew better than to disobey.
He felt the mattress dip slightly as Remus moved closer to him. A hand slid up his arm and came to rest on the side of his neck. Remus used his thumb to trace the line of Sirius’s jaw and then to stroke across Sirius’s lips. Sirius parted his lips under the gentle pressure and licked the pad of the thumb. Remus stroked across his lips again and moistened them. Sirius opened his mouth just a bit more, trying to capture the thumb within his mouth, but Remus shifted his hand back, tangling his fingers in Sirius’s hair. At the same moment, Remus’s other hand slid up Sirius’s bent leg.
Sirius wasn’t yet fully aroused, but he was well on his way and glad of it. From a vanity standpoint, he preferred being erect before the remainder of his clothes came off. He figured he might look a bit more “worthy” of Remus’s attentions at his full length. From a practical standpoint, he didn’t want his own lack of arousal to cause Remus to have second thoughts about Sirius’s willingness to participate.
Remus’s hands were now touching him both over and under his shirt. As one of Remus’s hands slipped into the boxers and brushed his hip, Sirius reached out to touch Remus as well. Remus grasped his wrist and prevented the contact.
“Lay back against the pillows,” Remus whispered in his ear. Sirius shivered, but whether from the warm breath across his cheek and ear, or the light touch of Remus stroking his cock through the thin cotton of his boxers, he did not know or care. Sirius edged back against the pillows piled up at the head of the bed and watched with half-lidded eyes as Remus pushed up his shirt to expose his belly and chest. Sirius found himself wishing that he still had the toned body of his youth instead of the half-starved remnant that Azkaban had left him. Remus licked up the centre of his belly and continued up farther to his throat. There, Remus did not lick or kiss or even bite. He merely inhaled deeply while he nuzzled his nose against Sirius’s hair and throat. Sirius tried to kiss him again, but again Remus pulled away.
A moment later, Sirius found his boxers being swept away. As he arched up to lift himself off the bed so they could be removed, Remus’s mouth was suddenly down around his cock. Sirius gasped in pleasure. Hot, and wet, and the stroking of Remus’s lips and tongue—Sirius couldn’t remember ever feeling anything so perfect. Remus pushed Sirius’s legs farther apart and stopped sucking just long enough to reposition himself between Sirius’s legs. Sirius watched as Remus went down again, but this time he licked and sucked on Sirius’s balls while his hand stroked the slick cock and kept it from feeling neglected. When Remus licked his way back to the tip of the cock again, his fingers stroked firmly just below Sirius’s balls. The stroking created deep waves of pleasure and made the sensations around his cock even more intense.
Sirius’s head fell back, and he tangled his fingers in Remus’s short hair. “God, you are good at this,” he breathed.
“Um-hmm,” Remus agreed. His mouth was around Sirius, and the vibrations of sound caused Sirius to moan. Remus chuckled at the reaction, and the vibrations of his laughter were even more intense. Sirius couldn’t resist the urge to thrust up into the warm, wet mouth. Remus braced his hands on either side of Sirius’s hips and shifted the angle of his head. Suddenly Sirius was in deeper than he had ever imagined possible. It was all too much, and he felt the waves of pleasure as he came inside Remus’s throat.
Remus drew his mouth away, but no sooner had Sirius whimpered at the anticipated loss of contact then Remus began to lick the length of the still erect cock. If Remus hadn’t swallowed all of the semen, Sirius would have imagined that Remus was licking him clean. Sirius slipped his hand inside the collar of the sweater that Remus still wore.
“You’re wearing too much,” Sirius said with a smile. He opened his eyes as Remus knelt back on his heels. Remus had a slightly smug smile as if he knew that he had given Sirius the best the blowjob of his life. “Wow,” Sirius stated as his eyes closed again. He needed a moment—just a moment—and then he’d do something about the fact that Remus was still fully clothed. He still felt a bit nervous about reciprocating, but he felt so good that he was ready to try anything.
He felt Remus move off the mattress, undoubtedly to disrobe. He opened his eyes to watch—just in time to see Remus go into his own room and close the door.
Remus cast a locking charm on the door. It was a simple one, but it was enough to tell Sirius to stay out. He leaned back against the door and rubbed his hand over his cock. He was achingly hard. He fumbled with his belt, desperate to touch himself. When their beds stood side by side in the dormitory, he’d heard Sirius pant and moan as he brought himself to orgasm. He hadn’t been able to resist stroking himself then either. But hearing him tonight, and knowing that he himself was making Sirius feel that good, he’d come so close just from the sounds. And the scent. And the taste.
“Remus?” Sirius knocked softly on the door. “What’s wrong? Why did you leave?”
Remus kept his eyes closed, focusing on Sirius’s scent and the taste of his skin. He didn’t need to stroke hard, just enough to imagine that he was sliding against Sirius’s skin.
“Moony? Talk to me. Please?”
“Go away.” It came out harsher than he meant it to, but he was so close, too close to explain. He remembered the feel of Sirius thrusting into his mouth, of Sirius wanting him. Remus stifled a cry as he came all over his hand and belly. He slid down the door and sat leaning against it.
He didn’t feel as good as he should. He’d heard the worry in Sirius’s voice. He needed to explain why he’d left so abruptly. Sirius was probably brooding. In fact, he wouldn’t be surprised to find a large furry ball just outside his door right now. “Padfoot can smell me,” Remus realized. He cast a cleaning charm on himself to remove all traces of semen. It would be hard enough to explain his choice to leave when he did without it being obvious that he’d resorting to wanking off.
“Leaving was the right choice,” Remus assured himself as he refastened his clothing. If he’d stayed in Sirius’s bedroom, in Sirius’s bed, for one more moment, Sirius would have felt obligated to reciprocate in some fashion, and that was the last thing Remus wanted. The spectre of Alex Vraci still hung over him. He could only imagine how disgusted Alex had been by the things he’d done with Remus. Remus couldn’t bear ever giving Sirius cause to feel the same. By encouraging Sirius to close his eyes, and by discouraging Sirius from touching him, he’d given Sirius tacit permission to fantasize that he was with a woman instead. There was no way for Sirius to continue to pretend if he actually had to touch Remus.
Remus climbed to his feet carefully—his knee had bothered him since his last transformation and kneeling on the bed had aggravated it—and released the locking charm on the door. Sirius was indeed brooding, but he was still human and in front of the fireplace instead of the door.
“I hate that door,” Sirius growled without taking his eyes off the glowing coals. Remus came closer and sat on the floor beside Sirius. “You said no more silences, but every time something goes wrong, you either lock yourself in there or leave the house altogether.”
“I’m sorry. I just needed to be alone for a few minutes.”
“I shouldn’t have pressured you into doing that. Do you hate me?”
“Of course not, Padfoot.” Sirius was still staring into the fire, and Remus knew that humour was usually the best way to jolt Sirius out of brooding. He put an arm around Sirius’s shoulders. “I must like you at least a little bit. After all, I did swallow, didn’t I?”
Sirius smiled. “Lydia Bagshot.”
“Pardon?”
“Wouldn’t swallow. Other than her aversion to the taste, she was quite good at it. Nowhere near as good as you, but at the time, I was impressed.”
“I can do better. I figured after a decade and a half of celibacy, you didn’t require all the bells and whistles.”
“Oh? Please tell me we’re doing this again.”
Remus pretended to consider for a moment. “Well, since I don’t have a Christmas present for you yet—”
“Forget it,” Sirius said abruptly. “I shouldn’t have asked.” He turned his head to look at Remus. Half of his face was bathed in the ruddy light of the fire, and half was lost to shadow. His eyes looked deep into Remus’s own, something Sirius rarely did as he knew of the wolf’s aversion to staring. He seemed to looking for—something. “Why did you leave the room?”
“You—uh—got me a bit ‘hot and bothered,’ and I,” Remus shrugged, “had to take care of the situation.”
“That’s generally a reason to stay in bed with someone, not to leave.”
“I didn’t want to involve you.”
“Why? I thought you still felt something for me. I’ve felt the way you touch my skin at night when you think I’m asleep. And sometimes you kiss my hair, but you wouldn’t even kiss me tonight, and you wouldn’t let me touch you.”
“I didn’t think you’d want to.”
“I tried to kiss you, didn’t I?”
“What do you want, Sirius? Really?”
Sirius turned back to looking at the fire. He was silent for several moments, and Remus wondered if he would ever answer the question.
“I know that I only sleep soundly when you’re beside me,” Sirius said at last, “and I know that I like how it feels when you touch me. What do I want? I want you to spend the night with me without our needing the excuse of my nightmares. I want to be able to touch you the way you touch me. I want to know what it feels like to kiss you. But most of all,” he looked at Remus with a smile, “I want to get off this floor because it’s really cold when you’re only wearing a shirt.”
“Yes, you do look a bit cold,” Remus observed as glanced down at Sirius’s crotch. “To bed?”
Sirius stood up and extended a hand to Remus to help him up as well. Sirius returned to his bed without releasing Remus’s hand, as if he were afraid that Remus would leave again if he let go. “I need my hand back if I’m going to get undressed,” Remus pointed out.
Sirius got under the covers, shivering a bit at the sensation of cold sheets, and propped his head up with a hand beneath his chin while he watched Remus remove his sweater and trousers. When Remus climbed into bed wearing his vest and boxers, Sirius observed, “You’re still wearing too much clothing.”
“Ready for another go already, are you?”
“Just want to see you.” Sirius’s hand was already cupped around the side Remus’s throat as Remus lay down beside him. He copied Remus’s earlier actions, stroking the line of his jaw and across his lips. “Am I allowed to kiss you now?” In answer, Remus closed the distance between them and kissed Sirius.
The kiss was tentative, cautious, as if Remus was still worried about Sirius’s reaction despite Sirius’s words. But Sirius enjoyed their first kiss anyway. Physically, it was no different than kissing a girl. Emotionally, it was better. Sirius had cared about his former girlfriends, but he’d not been under any illusion that he loved any of them. But Remus, he’d loved Remus as a friend for most of his life. It was nice to kiss someone he loved. Sirius tried to kiss him again, intending to deepen the kiss this time, but Remus pulled back and looked at him searchingly.
“Will you promise me something, Padfoot?”
“Of course.”
“Promise me you won’t do anything with me because you think it’s what I want. I only want to go as far as you want to go. I’d rather have this be the most one-sided sexual relationship in history than have you do something that makes you uncomfortable.”
Sirius was tempted to say that he was “up for anything” or some other pathetic attempt at humour, but the truth was, he was nervous about certain acts—especially after Padfoot’s last romp with the wolf—and Remus wouldn’t believe him if he didn’t admit it. Remus wanted assurance that Sirius knew his own boundaries and would abide by them. So, he nodded. “I promise, if you promise me something. No more running away instead of talking to me.”
“I think I can do that.”
January 1996
“I miss the kids.”
“They only left yesterday.”
“I know, but the house is so quiet without them.” Sirius pushed aside his half-eaten dinner, leftovers of Molly’s cooking, and propped his feet up in front of the kitchen fire.
“After a few weeks with Fred and George, a nightclub would sound quiet.”
“I like them.”
“I knew you would.”
“I like all of Harry’s friends. He’s really got good people around him, doesn’t he?”
“Starting with his devastatingly handsome godfather.”
Sirius looked over at Remus and flashed him the smile that had melted the hearts of many young ladies at Hogwarts. “Well, if I’m devastatingly handsome, perhaps you should seduce me.”
“Perhaps I will, but not here.”
“Why, Mr. Moony, don’t tell me you’ll only have sex in the bedroom.”
“On the contrary, Mr. Padfoot. Kitchen tables are quite suitable; however, I’m not fond of locations where Kreacher is likely to walk in on us.”
“Bugger Kreacher.”
“I’d rather not.”
Sirius laughed. “Poor word choice. But really, do you care if we shock that little toe-rag?” As he spoke, he walked around the table to Remus, pushed his empty plate aside, and sat on the table with his feet on Remus’s chair, straddling him. He’d chosen to wear a pair of Remus’s Muggle jeans today just to enjoy the way Remus’s eyes kept following him everywhere.
“No.” Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius’s waist and pulled him closer. “But you should consider that he won’t approve, and if he doesn’t approve, he’ll mutter about it, and if he mutters about it, everyone who sets foot in this house will hear about it.” Remus inclined his head and rubbed his nose against Sirius’s crotch, inhaling his scent. When he looked up again at Sirius, it wasn’t hard to imagine the wolf behind his eyes. “Here? Or upstairs?”
“Upstairs,” Sirius answered immediately. He wasn’t quite ready to risk Snape discovering from Kreacher that he’d joined the ranks of the shirt-lifters.
Remus left the kitchen without waiting to see if Sirius would follow. The full moon was tomorrow, and he was the alpha of their tiny pack. He trusted his packmate to follow where he led.
No sooner had Sirius locked the bedroom door then Remus had him up against the wall. He was kissing him so hard that Sirius thought they’d draw blood. One of Remus’s hands held Sirius’s hand pinned to the wall above his head, and the other was desperately yanking Sirius’s shirt out of the waistband of his jeans. Even through the many layers of clothing, Sirius could feel Remus’s erect cock grinding against his own.
“Not nice to tease me like that,” Remus murmured as he moved on to grazing his teeth against Sirius’s jaw and throat, “especially tonight. God, I want to fuck you.”
Even if Sirius had been ready, he knew he wasn’t ready for the way it would be tonight. Tonight, Remus was almost more wolf than human. But since he was dealing with the wolf, Sirius wasn’t sure he still had a choice. He slid his hand between them to stroke against Remus and reassure him that no, he wasn’t teasing this time, even as he said, “Not yet. Anything else.”
“I know,” Remus gritted out through his teeth. He slid his hands under Sirius’s sweater and swept it upward. He resumed kissing Sirius hungrily even as he tugged at the buttons on Sirius’s shirt. Sirius heard at least two skitter across the bare floor. “I know,” Remus murmured again as he began to lick and kiss his way down Sirius’s chest and belly. “Just want you.”
They’d come close just a few nights previously. After engaging in the human equivalent of canine seduction—“rimming” Remus had called it—Remus had taken advantage of Sirius’s still very canine positioning to rub his cock between the cheeks of Sirius’s arse. He must have noticed the way Sirius tensed, for he had immediately reassured him that he wouldn’t go in.
Remus was now on his knees before Sirius, and trying to unfasten his belt. Sirius took over unfastening his jeans while Remus rubbed his cheek against Sirius’s inner thigh and breathed in his scent.
Sirius managed to get his jeans and boxers pushed down as far as his knees. Sirius couldn’t help but think that he looked ridiculous. Trapped inside his own clothing and cock sticking straight out like he was riding a small broomstick. At least when one was erect and laying down, one’s cock lay along the belly, was a part of you. Of course, it didn’t look ridiculous sticking out when it was disappearing into Remus’s mouth. He loved watching that. He looked down at Remus and saw the hungry way Remus was staring at him—staring at him, but not touching him.
“Moony?” Sirius combed his fingers through Remus’s hair. Remus looked up at him with the same predatory glint he’d seen in the kitchen.
“Fuck me,” Remus said.
They’d never done that either, but Sirius thought it couldn’t be that different from having sex with a woman. Perhaps he was a bit uncomfortable with the idea, but as he looked into Remus’s eyes and saw the desire, the hunger there, he knew he wasn’t uncomfortable enough to say, “No.” He nodded.
Remus was back on his feet in the blink of an eye. He kissed Sirius deeply again—only for a few moments—and headed for the bed, stripping off his clothes as he went. Sirius struggled to remove his boots so he could finish undressing and follow.
Remus already had the now familiar tube of lubricant in hand. Familiar because it made rubbing against one another oh so nice—and why, oh why, had Remus never informed the younger Sirius how nice it could make a simple handjob? Of course, lubricant was only part of the reason such simple stimulation was better now. The fact that it was Remus’s talented hands instead of Sirius wanking off alone in a cold bed made an even larger difference.
As Sirius crawled toward Remus on the bed, Remus reached beneath him and stroked a generous amount of lube onto Sirius’s achingly firm cock. The warmth of Remus’s hands had warmed the lube slightly, but it was still cool compared to the blood-engorged heat of his cock. The contrast made Sirius hyper-aware of the way Remus’s fingers were encircling and stroking him. As the encircling fingers stroked down firmly one last time and then released him, Sirius knew that he wanted to be encircled by heat. He wanted to be inside Remus.
Remus lay back underneath Sirius and wrapped his legs high around Sirius’s back. This surprised Sirius slightly. Somehow he’d always imagined that entering from behind—“doggy style,” appropriately enough—was the only position for anal intercourse. He was surprised, but pleased, that he would be able to see Remus’s face.
Remus’s eyes hadn’t lost the feral gleam they’d had since Sirius had begun trying to tempt Remus in the kitchen. Sirius felt the same thrill he had the first time he’d ever seen the wolf’s eyes. The same thrill he’d felt as he bared his belly to the wolf and waited to learn if Padfoot would be accepted as a packmate, or attacked as a rival.
Remus guided Sirius’s cock into position and pressed against him. Sirius could feel the tip of his cock was pressed against Remus, against the puckered opening into Remus’s body, but it was just too tight. He pressed against Remus, but he couldn’t slide in. “I was wrong,” he thought, “it’s nothing like sex with a girl.”
“Do it!” Remus ordered.
“I can’t. You’re too—” but Sirius never got to finish what he was saying. Remus tightened his legs and thrust up against him. Suddenly, “too tight” was gloriously, wonderfully tight. Sirius gasped at how perfect it felt. “Oh…Moony.”
But he barely had a moment to enjoy it before Remus growled and rolled them both over so he was looking down at Sirius. Sirius realized they might have been naïve to think that the wolf would allow this. He’d made it clear during the full moon that he would mount his mate but not be mounted. Sirius was still nervous about the prospect, but not as much as he’d been only moments ago. He’d always loved the wolf—the fierceness, the untameable nature, the grace and purpose inherent in his every movement—and at this moment, he saw the wolf more clearly in Remus than he’d ever seen before. Whatever Remus wanted of him, he could have.
“Can’t,” Remus said as leaned down to graze his teeth along the side of Sirius’s throat.
“I know,” Sirius said as he turned his head and exposed his throat more fully. “Anything, Moony, anything you want.”
Despite their relative change of positions, it was still Sirius who was inside Remus. He expected that to change at any moment, but Remus’s lupine side seemed appeased as long as he was on top. As they found a mutual rhythm, Sirius thought he just might die of pure pleasure, and judging from the blissful expression on Remus’s face, the feeling was mutual. Remus slipped a hand between them, and Sirius could feel the knuckles of Remus’s hand stroking across his belly as Remus fisted his own cock in time to their rocking together. Sirius licked his palm and joined Remus in the stroking, their fingers entwined and Remus’s cock between their palms.
Remus couldn’t seem to get enough of kissing and licking him, and Sirius responded in kind. He didn’t know which he loved more, the heat of Remus encircling him, or the way Remus seemed to need his kisses. Remus’s breathing shortened into pants, and suddenly Sirius felt the tight heat of Remus’s body squeeze around him even more tightly. Hot, slick semen spurted onto Sirius’s belly. He swiped his fingers through it and stoked it onto Remus’s cock before he even finishing coming. Remus moaned with pleasure, and Sirius was gone.
“Mmm,” Sirius opened his eyes slowly and saw Remus smiling down at him. Smiling, but with worry lines creasing between his brows. Sirius smiled back and closed his eyes again. “Whatever you’re worrying about, Moony, stop it.”
Remus lay down beside him and Sirius responded by turning on his side toward him and entangling their legs together. Remus began to place soft kisses all over his face. “I’m sorry,” Remus whispered between kisses. “I pushed you into that before you were ready.”
“No, I wanted to.” Sirius opened his eyes and saw from Remus’s still worried expression that he didn’t believe him. “Honestly, I would have said ‘No,’ if I didn’t. I said, ‘No,’ to the other way around didn’t I?” Remus nodded. “Although for a minute there, I had the impression that I wasn’t getting a choice.”
“You almost didn’t. I should have stayed away from you tonight—too close to the moon.”
“Bite your tongue. Tonight was the best yet.” Remus still looked doubtful, but not as worried. “And next time, after the full moon, I won’t say, ‘No,’ to the other way around.”
Remus began to shake his head. “No, you don’t have to—”
“Remus, I want to.” And he did.
Maybe he wasn’t supposed to desire Remus, but he did. He maybe he was supposed to desire the “otherness” of women in sexual partners, but it had always been Remus’s “otherness,” his mix of human and lupine, that had intrigued him. “I want to be with Remus, and Remus wants to be with me,” he thought. “That matters more than all the supposed to’s in the world.”
“Gorgeous,” Remus breathed as he trailed his fingers down Sirius’s bare arm. Sirius thought that perhaps Remus still imagined him as he once was, for “gorgeous” was an adjective that hadn’t applied to him in a very long time. He smiled ruefully and kissed Remus for saying it.
“Used to be. Now you, on the other hand, have improved with age.”
Remus laughed. “We might need to get you some glasses. I’m skinny, scarred, and going grey.”
“You aren’t skinny; you’re—wiry. You’re all muscle. And your scars are beautiful.” Sirius traced his finger along a particularly long one on Remus’s belly. He’d done that one sometime during the first year after he’d lost his friends. “They tell the story of how much you’ve been through, and that you’ve survived it all. They tell how strong you are. And as for the grey, I like it. It reminds me of your fur.” Sirius reached up to comb his fingers through the grey at Remus’s temple.
Remus was tempted to say something he shouldn’t, but he bit his lip and resisted. Sirius wanted to be his friend and his lover, but Sirius didn’t want to know that Remus was in love with him.
“Do you remember how much I loved to pet your fur when you were Padfoot?”
“Um-hmm,” Sirius murmured as he turned to spoon up against Remus’s belly. He liked having Remus’s arm around him while he slept. “I was a right whore for it too. I kept transforming and jumping up on your bed.”
“Your fur reminded me of your hair, the same glossy black.” Remus began to stroke Sirius’s hair as he spoke. “I was rather obsessed with your hair. I wanted to touch it so badly, but I knew I couldn’t. But when you were Padfoot, I was allowed to touch you.”
“I wish you’d told me how you felt,” Sirius said sleepily.
“You weren’t ready to hear it.”
“No, I wasn’t. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. You’re here now.”
April 1996
“Are you all right?” Remus asked as he closed the drawing room door behind him.
Sirius didn’t turn around; he continued to stare out the window at the street and the muddy square. “Dumbledore send you to check on me?”
“No, I was just worried.” Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius and rested his head on his shoulder. “The meeting’s breaking up now.”
“I’m sorry that I bolted before it was over.”
“It’s all right. Snape was riding you pretty hard.” Remus held Sirius a bit tighter and placed a kiss on the side of his throat.
“He’s right. You wouldn’t have to do more than your share of risky missions if I were doing my share.”
“We’re all doing as much as we can, no more and no less. Look at me.” Sirius allowed the curtain to fall closed, turned reluctantly, and wrapped his arms around Remus. “Dung and I are doing this because we’re the best suited. Wards and security spells are my specialty, and Dung knows more about sneaking into people’s homes than all the rest of us combined. Even if you didn’t have to stay here, it would still be Dung and I doing this reconnaissance, not you.” Sirius nodded, but he didn’t seem convinced. “And since when did you start listening to Snivellus?”
Sirius smiled a bit at Remus’s use of the nickname. It was rare for Remus to use it, so Sirius knew it had been for his benefit. He kissed him and then asked, “Why do you put up with me?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re a good kisser,” Remus pushed the black fringe back and out of Sirius’s eyes, “or maybe because you know how to do that cute puppy-eyes thing even when you’re—”
In the half second between the click of the door handle and the door’s opening, Sirius had pushed Remus away and taken a step back. When Dung poked his head into the room, they were a discrete distance apart, just two friends having a chat.
“There’s something I need to go do, but I’ll be back by seven,” Mundungus promised. “I’ll pick up some of that curry you like, Sirius, and the three of us can have dinner before Remus and I go back out.” Sirius nodded, and Mundungus pulled the door shut again.
Remus’s eyes were averted from Sirius, and he headed for the door as well. “I should get ready for tonight—notes to look over.”
Sirius had spent years learning to read Remus Lupin, and the fact that Remus was upset and trying not to show it did not escape his notice. The cause was easy to deduce. Between the moment they’d kissed and now, Sirius had only done one thing.
“I’m sorry I pushed you away.”
“No, it’s fine,” Remus said. He smiled back at Sirius as he paused before opening the door. “Dung was coming in the room.”
“I thought it might be Snape,” Sirius explained.
“Even more embarrassing. He’s probably prepared an entire scroll of insults calling you my ‘bitch’ and the like, and is just waiting for the opportunity to—”
“I’m not embarrassed about this, about us,” Sirius insisted as he quickly crossed the floor and reached out for Remus’s hand.
Remus smiled sadly. “It’s all right, really. Remember me, so far in the closet that even you and James didn’t know? I can understand that we need to be discrete.”
“I’m tired of ‘discrete’,” Sirius grumbled. “I just don’t want Snape to know.”
Remus smiled in amusement. “Trust me; you have three choices. You can tell no one—effective but isolating. You can tell everyone—and be prepared for the consequences. Or you can tell a very small number and swear them to secrecy. But you cannot tell ‘everyone’ except one person; it won’t work.”
“Snape might tell Harry.”
“See. You’re already up to two people you don’t want to know about us,” Remus pointed out.
“No, I just don’t want Snape to be the one who tells Harry. I should.”
Remus didn’t answer. He merely stared at Sirius in surprise. Sirius realized that he might have gone a step too far again. He had to stop assuming that Remus wanted whatever he wanted and making decisions that affected both of them. He looked down at their clasped hands and rubbed his thumb over Remus’s hand. “Unless you don’t want me to,” Sirius added.
“No, I—you’re sure? You want to tell Harry about us?”
Sirius looked up warily through his fringe of dark hair. “I know he might not react well, being raised by people only slightly more open-minded than my own dear parents, but I don’t want to keep us a secret from him. It’s bad enough that we can’t tell him about the prophecy until he improves at Occlumency, but another secret on top of that—”
“What are we?”
“What do you mean?”
“Before you tell him about ‘us,’ you need to define what ‘we’ are. He’ll ask.”
Sirius shrugged. “Well, I love you, and you love me. We are whatever that makes us.”
Remus stared in surprise again. Being in love was momentous, relationship-defining, relationship-changing. Nothing was ever the same again after those words were said, and so Remus had never dared say them. Trust Sirius to do the unexpected and say it as if it were an accepted matter of fact. Remus must have been silent a moment too long, for Sirius began to look worried again.
“You do love me, don’t you, Moony?”
Remus nodded, and Sirius beamed. Remus could think of no other word for it. Sirius’s emotions were as changeable as the weather, and his face reflected it all. Sirius’s happy smile lit up his entire face, and Remus basked in the warmth of it. Remus smiled back and held Sirius’s hand tighter.
“You should smile like that more often, Moony. It looks good on you.”
June 1996
Remus wandered around the room looking at the photos, touching the glass over this one and then that. Ginny’s brothers had given her a camera for Christmas, and she had taken numerous photographs during the Christmas holiday. Upon her return to school, her friend Colin had taught her how to develop the film. She’d sent copies of many of them back to Sirius and Remus via her parents. Sirius had framed each and every one and put them in their bedroom. These were the only recent photographs he had of Sirius.
And if he had given in to his temptation to destroy all his photos of Sirius back in 1981, they would have been his only photos of Sirius at all. In the end, he’d only spared most of the photos of Sirius because so many of them had James or Peter in them as well. He’d merely packed them away and didn’t look at them again until the letter from Hagrid had arrived.
Just as in the old photos, these photos all showed Sirius surrounded by others. Sirius playing chess with Ron while Harry looked on and Hermione peeked over the edge of her book trying not to look interested. Sirius teaching Fred and George how they had turned the Slytherin common room into a swamp their fifth year. Sirius as part of the crowd surrounding the table bearing Molly’s Christmas feast. Sirius was a social person; he had needed to be surrounded by friends. Remus believed that the greatest tragedy of his friend’s brief life was how often he had been alone.
Remus picked up the photo of himself with Sirius, Tonks, and Dung. It was the closest he had to a photo of just the two of them. “Just one of Sirius’s friends,” he said. “Just one of the crowd.” He wanted a photo of the two of them. It seemed so unfair that somewhere in the files of the Ministry of Magic, there was a photograph in which he was kissing Alex Vraci, but the only photo of Sirius and himself which even came close—in which a slightly intoxicated Sirius had pulled a very embarrassed looking Remus onto his lap at James and Lily’s wedding and kissed him on the cheek—he had torn into small pieces and burned years ago.
Remus put the photo back down on the bedside table and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. It was time to go feed Buckbeak.
—Written February 2004