Notes: Hiya, all. I thought I'd try my hand at something new. This is a slash fic b/w Sirius and Remus, filled with angst, hurt/comfort, and romance/fluff in that order. Enjoy!
Warning: flashback of physical abuse, descriptive kiss
He curled into a tight ball, drawing his knees up to his chest and pulling them close to his shivering body with pale, slender arms. His tawny hair flopped over his left eye, and he rubbed his head against the too-hot pillow in attempt to dislodge the pounding headache that was sending him into black oblivion. He squeezed his eyes shut, and crystalline tears slipped down his high cheekbones and came to a rest at the hollow of his cheeks.
He bit his lip, white teeth sinking painfully into supple pink skin—trying to distract himself from the pain. His fingernails carved half-moons into his soft palms, drawing blood. The muscles of his legs and torso coiled tightly, the sinews chaffing against each other, restraining him; he couldn't move an inch without an all consuming pain rippling across his body.
His brow dotted with sweat, dripping down to his temples, and his eyebrows angled down sharply.
Soft pink lips curved into an "o"—a silent cry—as tremors wracked his too-thin frame. Twin pools of chocolate brown eyes—usually sparkling with vivacity and warmth and friendship, but now muted and dulled with irreconcilable anguish—shot open, pupils dilating to adjust to the darkness pressing heavily upon him.
Although he longed to cry out against the languid shadows, he knew he couldn't; he wouldn't. He bit down on his tongue hard, focusing on this new sharp pain radiating from the small tip, which was overshadowed by the turmoil in his belly.
He wanted the pain to end, he thought miserably. When would it end?
Muscles spasmed in his back, pulling with life of their own, throwing his nerves into a frenzy. Remus' breath hitched and sped up, and he tried breathing through his nose to slow his breathing. But he couldn't. There wasn't enough air.
He gasped, finally wrenching his jaws apart as far as they would go, sucking in air to appease his aching lungs. His stomach rallied with his back, forcing the contents of his stomach to roll about unpleasantly. His stomach muscles spasmed, embedding pain sharp as broken glass deep in his core. He could almost feel tendrils of acid leaking at his insides.
It was like trying to placate a furious volcano when it was near bursting, glowing red magma streaming down the lips scorchingly, rock melting spewing sickening fumes, while broiling sickeningly beneath the ridged land.
He tried to breathe slowly again, to fight the pain and his rising panic, but it was too much—the pain—overwhelming.
It licked hungrily at his body, starved.
His head pulsed with every heartbeat, nerves set aflame.
His fingers ached bone deep from where they clutched convulsively at his arms—scratched and stinging.
He tried to sink deeper into the covers to warm himself of the terrible frost permeating throughout his body.
Uncurling his arm, he tugged the edge of his pillow closer to his mouth, and bit down—hard—as shockwaves of pain ripped apart his self-control. His teeth ached and saliva dripped down his chin. The pauses between the tremors shortened, until the violent shudders wracking Remus' body were less than seconds apart.
His consciousness ebbed and flowed, darkness tugging at him seductively, pulling, and then receding as the pain burst, then stopped, burst, then stopped until it became one solid deluge of agony that threatened to drown him.
His eyes glazed over, his jaw popping from the pressure of his teeth on the red-stained pillow, his body seizing, curling over itself tightly, muscles undulating under their own accord, slender stalks of nerves torn apart.
He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe. It was too much.
Too much. Can't stand it. But it won't stop. Please—
His breathing increased, faster and faster but nothing filled his lungs—his head felt like a popped balloon; he couldn't think. It was too cold.
Perhaps he should go back inside the house. But wouldn't Papa get angry? He could almost, almost feel the frigid, but ethereally beautiful flakes of snow settle on his bare body.
White snow, he mused, looked almost like silver, but it was prettier—at least the parts where his blood hadn't splashed. And white snow didn't hurt. So he had to stay outside with the pretty white snow because otherwise Father would get the—
Something tickled the edge of his consciousness, and he thought he heard distant footsteps, but that wasn't right; he was outside in the snow, tied to the shed after his transformation, trying to figure out why he couldn't go inside to his Father and Mother and sip hot chocolate with them on his favorite rug in front of the fire.
Now where was he? Oh, yes. Otherwise Father would get the poker from the fire and it would burn. And Mother would cry, and her eyes would be red, but Father would drag him into the cellar…but once, he reminded himself, he'd just used his belt when his Mother wasn't home…
"What are you doing inside?" A voice hissed in his ear as he was researching for his Transfiguration essay. He gripped his quill tightly in his hand, and bit his lip, shaking. He knew he wasn't supposed to sit at table anymore, but didn't understand why.
"Up!" He was dragged out of his chair by the scruff of his neck. Books and parchment went flying, and the inkpot smashed against the floor. He stared at the pooling ink, sinking into the crevices of the cracked floor-tiles, paralyzed by fear. He whimpered, and received an angry snarl in response. Remus squeezed his eyes shut, letting tears dampen his pale cheeks, as he heard a familiar tinkle of metal.
"Please…I'll b'good…" Remus slurred out loud, caught in the throes of his nightmare.
That only meant one thing. His father would tie him up and then make him spend the night there
Remus whimpered again in fright, and tried to wriggle out of his grasp, fear now fuelling his need to escape, but his Father was very. He pinned him to the wall, and snapped on the silver cuffs. Remus nearly gasped in pain, his eyes dilating in pain.
Father pushed him forward, out of the kitchen, into the basement.
He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe because of the panic and the acid pain and the darkness that was going to eat him away.
What had he done to deserve this? Why him?
Remus stumbled down the stairs, his head pounding, and his arms and back aching. His wrists were already blistering. He was pushed stomach-down onto the cold tile floor of the small utility room.
He squeezed his eyes shut as the heard his Father unbuckle his belt. No, no, no he moaned in his head. But he couldn't make a sound.
"Count!" Father barked, as he raised his belt.
"One!" Remus cried as the belt buckle struck his back. "Two," he whimpered. He counted up to ten, when he finally collapsed. The pain was unbearable; it wracked his body until he could not remember a time when there was no pain. His back was on fire. There was no other explanation. His vision darkened, black spots appeared everywhere until the darkness engulfed him, and he gratefully succumbed.
He must have only blacked out for a few seconds because he heard footsteps on the damp floor. He opened his eyes slightly. The tile was speckled crimson and white, and he could see dust floating about, finally settling down upon the floor. Don't move, don't move… was all his numb mind told him. If he was still, Father would go away.
"You little piece of dirt!" Father shrieked in his ear. Remus fought the innate desire to flinch, and let his fingernails dig into his palms.
He smelled Fire-whiskey in the breath that tickled his ear—the pain was so intense, and the tickly feeling was so out of place, he almost giggled—and heard Father hiss, "Werewolf!
"No…" he groaned, writhing under the covers, unconsciously rubbing his wrists.
His stomach clenched, and tears leaked out of his eyes, as he heard the footsteps recede—the danger was almost gone—and the door clicked shut. And the lights went out.
It was so dark. And if he moved he would feel the snakes slithering up his arms and the bugs would come crawling over him, Father had said.
Remus hugged himself miserably on the cold floor, sniffling, but unable to move. He cried silently, locked in the basement, utterly broken. The cold seeped up into his body, into his tired bones, but cooled his feverish forehead. He stayed awake the whole night, afraid of what Father would do if he found him asleep; he stayed awake, huddled against himself, with no one to help him, and no light or heat to warm and comfort his tattered soul.
He was all alone.
His father's taunts echoed in his ears while the scene morphed.
He was standing in a dark valley now, with a bitterly cold wind biting at his skin. He shivered, and turned around, but the wind seemed to come from all directions, whipping towards him. A heavy cloud of black, swirling matter slithered in the air around Remus, cloaking his vision.
He choked as the darkness clogged his nose and mouth, fighting to get in. He batted away at it, but it was insubstantial, and it slid inside between his splayed fingers. Remus gagged as the darkness poured into him and coughed until his throat was dry and his lips were cracked. And it didn't stop until the very last particle was swept into him.
He breathed experimentally and felt the heavy weight of darkness, like a thick chain wrapped around his neck, marking him.
He noticed that the darkness was interrupted by glows of torchlight that were coming closer, and closer. Something big was coming towards him, from all sides. He could smell it—no, he could smell them. His nostrils flared, and the bitter wind whipped across his face one last time. Apprehension glued his feet to the ground, and he stood in horror as the mass approached him. He could feel the ground tremble beneath his bare feet.
Thousands of unrecognizable faces began to cluster around him in a circle, jeering, snarling, lunging at him with silver forks and whips and cuffs. Anger contorted their features, and their eyes shone red, and their teeth gleamed in the torchlight. Their mouths moved in synchrony, one dirty word shaping their lips:
The faces drew closer and closer and he could see his classmates among them now, staring at him in revulsion, sneering condescendingly, spitting at his feet, brandishing their silver.
He couldn't breathe, and they came closer. But then they backed away to one side and hissed in unison.
And someone grabbed him and pulled him close so that he could hear the other's rasping breath. And when he turned around his heart nearly stopped.
He saw him standing behind him with bright red eyes and gleaming white teeth and a smirk on his face.
"Join me my son…and we will populate the world…"
"No!" Remus tried to shrink away from the man, but the people had formed a solid wall on the other side and he couldn't go there.
Remus watched in horror as the man's teeth grew longer and longer and the man began to shrink and his bones cracked and popped and fur sprouted along his body and then all at once he was on all four legs. And then he howled, and Remus looked up and suddenly the sky was lit with a white orb suspended in the darkness.
And then he heard their howls and saw them line up behind him, a solid pack of grey and white and black fur with red eyes and jagged white teeth.
He couldn't breathe.
And they were all closing in on him from both sides. The people held their shining silver things in the air. The wolves licked their chops, stalking closer to him. The people raised their arms all at once, and the wolves bared their teeth, and both groups charged towards him, and the people plunged the silver into him while the wolves shredded his skin apart and the last thing he saw was the white moon staring innocently down at him.
"NO!" The scream tore from his hoarse throat. Remus shot upwards, his chest heaving, his eyes darting about wildly, his legs tangling in the blankets.
His heart thudded in his chest, straining against his ribs.
He needed to get away.
But the blankets twisted around him and clung to him, and he couldn't get them to let go. And it was so dark.
Would Father come now because he screamed?
Or would those people come get him with their silver?
Would the wolves kill him this time?
Uttering a strangled cry, he lunged from the bed, heedless of the blankets, and toppled onto the ground. He needed to get away. The sense of urgency gripped his heart and mind tightly.
His Father would be so mad.
They were coming for him.
They were going to kill him.
He needed to go now.
He ignored the pain that echoed in his limbs, and was about to get up when his ears picked up the creaking of a door opening and closing. He tried to pick up the scent, but he couldn't breathe properly for some reason.
"Moony?" the voice echoed in the darkness. Remus shivered.
His eyes widened as he heard the person come closer—footsteps echoing hollowly on the cold floor—and his breathing accelerated, and the tears fell faster as he scrambled backwards under the bed.
They were coming to get him.
They were coming to get him.
They were going to kill him.
He was going to die.
The footsteps came closer and closer, and Remus hugged himself under the bed, and pushed himself against the wall. He held his breath, waiting.
"Moony?" The voice called out, closer this time.
Moony? That was what Sirius and James and Peter called him. Remus bit his lip, unsure of what was happening. He closed his eyes, and pressed his arms against his stomach to quell the nausea. He was probably delirious. Sirius, because it had sounded like Sirius, couldn't be here. They were tricking him.
"Moony?" The voice, though, he couldn't have mistaken the voice. That low murmur, tinged with concern and curiosity and sleep. That voice. He could never have mistaken that voice because it was the one that woke him up in the mornings and grumbled about homework and shouted in glee as he smacked Bludgers at the Slytherins.
Remus whimpered, and wished it were Sirius. Sirius always knew what to do.
"There you are! I was wondering where you'd gone off to." The tone was light, but it was obvious that it was laced in worry.
Remus peeked beneath his lashes up at the person who crouched next to him. He tensed, unsure, and flinched when the other tried to shuffle closer. His wolf side warned him not to make any noise, and he agreed.
"Moony?" the voice pleaded. Remus sensed the worry and concern and hurt that emanated almost tangibly from the other, and now although the wolf told him to keep quiet, his human side told him to believe.
Narrowing his eyes and focusing in the darkness lit by the soft glow of the full moon, he could see a messy tangle of raven hair and warm eyes lit with concern, crinkling at the edges as he smiled reassuringly.
Remus sniffed the air. The tangy smell of freshly crushed mint and newly fallen rain filled his nose. Pack, the wolf inside him cheered. He remembered brief flashes of green and the scent of grass and a snout nuzzling his neck. He felt the wolf rise in him. He wanted to tumble in the forest with Padfoot again. Moony needs pack! The wolf almost growled at his conscience, and barely restraining his wolf side, Remus lunged at Sirius with both arms extended in a silent plea. He just knew it was Sirius. It couldn't be anyone else. Only he would sit next to him on the cold floor and wait patiently for his numbed mind to begin working again.
Remus knew that his eyes conveyed the deep despair and utter relief that welled at his heart, because in the next moment, Sirius pulled him off the floor and onto his lap.
"Oh, Remus…" Sirius sighed, ruffling his hair.
Remus sagged against Sirius as the instantaneous relief numbed his pain and drew away the clogging fear of his nightmares. Sirius was warm and solid. Sirius kept him tucked close to his body so that he could hear the hypnotizing rhythm of his heartbeat, and feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest.
Remus sighed in contentment and let his lashes droop. Firm arms wrapped around his body, holding him gently—yet protectively—in a warm embrace. His aching muscles began to loosen as large hands rubbed small circles at the base of his back. He languidly let his head drop forward onto Sirius' shoulder, burying his nose into the neck of his robes, breathing in his comforting scent.
He raised his hands and clutched the front of his robes tightly, afraid that if he let go, Sirius would disappear. The softness of his sleeping robes between his fingers and the presence of Sirius' warm body flush against his own tugged Remus smoothly back to reality. Sirius was here. Sirius was holding him. Sirius was whispering sweet things in his ear.
Remus nearly collapsed into himself as the strain washed away, leaving him with a sense of almost overwhelming release. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry. And he was so confused because although everything hurt, Sirius was with him now. Sirius was here.
He needed this. He needed this comfort. He needed to be held and cared for and pampered because the hurt was getting to be too much. And he was so tired. He didn't want Sirius to go away. He needed Sirius. Remus' breath caught in his throat, and silent tears followed by suppressed hiccoughs that shook the small boy.
And Sirius, instinctively sensing Remus' lingering fear and discomfort, pulled him even closer. His hold tightened slightly, but reassured Remus that he was not going anywhere. And he began to rock back and forth slightly, one arm resting at his back, holding onto Remus, while the other cupped the back of his head. He carded his fingers through the tawny locks soothingly, and hummed softly under his breath, trying to ease Remus' silent sobbing.
Remus felt the vibrations of his chest and the strong steady heartbeat than sang its own tune in Remus' ears. Hair tickled his neck, and puffs of moist air ghosted across his cheeks. The scent of lingering pinecones and grass lulled his senses. Quidditch, he thought distantly. Remus let himself go, awash in the sensation of being held, of being warm, of being safe. He nestled his head at the hollow of Sirius' smooth neck, and sighed in contentment.
The world was much better when Sirius was with him; he chased away the frightening shadows and pulled Remus away from the horrible nightmares and made him feel good and special and tingly inside because Sirius was here, holding him and not letting him go.
Sirius. Sirius. Sirius, he chanted under his breath, as incredible warmth soaked his bones, and eased the tremors resulting from the cold. But his breath kept hitching painfully as he suppressed his hiccoughs, and he knew that Sirius could feel it through his chest. Slowly, Sirius brought both hands to Remus' face, coaxing him to come out of his robes.
Sirius soothingly rubbed the pads of his fingers from his temple to his jaw line and back. Warmth blossomed underneath his fingers, and Remus moaned at the sensation, relishing the sweet attention. He turned his face upward to expose more of his skin. Catching his face with his palms, Sirius lowered his forehead and bumped his nose playfully against Remus'.
Remus' lashes parted slowly as he felt Sirius' forehead rest atop his. He revealed glistening eyes that allowed more tears to fall down the gentle curve of his cheeks. His eyes were lowered, abashedly, unable to meet Sirius' eyes. He determinedly stared at his hands, which still clung to Sirius' robes. The silence was not at all uncomfortable. But Remus just didn't want Sirius to stop holding him. He knew they would talk later, but he didn't want Sirius to break the comfortable silence now, when it felt so wonderful.
Remus felt Sirius' heated gaze on him. But another ripple of pain shot through his blood, making his limbs twitch. He bit into his lip again and shuttered the emotions on his face; he didn't want Sirius to see him like this, in so much pain. And the idea that he wasn't supposed to show his pain was so thoroughly ingrained in him that he never questioned it. If he had, he would have known that his Father was wrong.
Remus clenched his eyes shut, and barely concealed a gasp of pain, for it had returned with renewed vengeance. But it did not overwhelm him this time because he lay safely in Sirius' warm embrace. He tried to jerk out of Sirius' hold on his face because he wanted to bury his face into his neck and hide, but Sirius held onto him. Ever so slowly, he swept his fingers across Remus' cheeks, down the trail of his tears. Remus' shoulders hunched as he tried to close in on himself. His cheeks flamed, burning with shame, and he refused to open his eyes, even when Sirius rubbed his temples soothingly.
"Moony," Sirius began. The pain slowly receded back into darkness, waiting for another moment in which it could lash out. Remus' forehead relaxed, but he did not release his bottom lip from his teeth. "It's ok to cry," Sirius whispered softly, moving his hands back to Remus' back and rubbing him, coaxing him. "Just let go."
That one simple statement proved to be Remus' undoing. As though he had needed someone's reassurance, someone's permission, that it wasn't inappropriate and that it didn't indicate any weakness for him to show his feelings—especially if he was hurting—all at once, a new wave of tears burst from the dam that had held them back for too long.
At first, his jaws clenched as violent tremors wracked his thin frame, originating from the center of his chest. Although he wanted to, he couldn't let those last threads of control tear away—he was so scared that he'd drown—and as a result, he almost cut his lip through with his teeth. But Sirius traced fingers down his face and gently tugged the bruised lip from between his teeth. His fingers lingered on Remus' lip, running across it, trying to erase the indentations with his touch.
Remus tried to open his eyes to look at Sirius, but everything was too blurry anyways. If he was going to cry, he reasoned, he was going to do it the right way—he closed his eyes and let his emotions flow over him. He shook with their power, but Sirius held him tight like an anchor, and wouldn't let him drown. His solid presence was enough for Remus to let himself go, awash the sea of his tumultuous emotions.
Remus tilted his head back, and parted his lips. His eyes rolled back in his head from the heady sensations racing through his body. He began to sift through them slowly, methodically.
Rage. Undeniable anger at his misfortune. At the unfair, life-long punishment for wandering outside after dark. At everyone, at everything; at his Father for hating him. At his Mother for not doing anything to stop him. At the man who turned him into a werewolf. At Sirius and James and Peter because they understood him so well, and yet led untainted lives. At the world because it would not accept people—no, Dark creatures—like him into their fold.
Remus' breath caught in his throat, unsure if it was appropriate to let his feelings out like this, and he opened his eyes and could see Sirius smiling gently at him now, his head tilted, his hands resting at his back reassuringly.
Remus gasped at the intensity at which the emotions wanted no, needed, to escape. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but coughed loudly, dislodging the painful sensation at his throat. The sound echoed in the quiet of the hospital wing.
Slowly, as though it had actually been a stopper to his emotions, Remus feelings began trickling out more easily. And he found it easier to fall down the waterfall of his emotions instead of fighting them and sifting through them. And remarkably, he didn't feel weak at all. It, oddly enough, felt a little nice.
He coughed again. And again. And again. Although his cracked ribs—on the mend thanks to Skele-Gro—bothered him, he ignored them. The emotions flit in and out of his consciousness faster now.
Anguish. A terribly deep sadness so inextricably woven into his heart, that he would never be able to forget it, let alone erase it. The dark well of despair that reminded him of his faults and his limits due to his condition.
He coughed and gasped as tears ran steadily downwards, unstoppable.
Fear. That Dumbledore would realize his mistake in letting him come to Hogwarts and send him back home. That his Father would finally live up to his threat and kick him out. That he would not be able to survive past his seventeenth moon. That the ministry would put him down like a mere animal.
The tears were coming faster now, and it was all he could do to keep from choking on his own breath.
Insecurity. That dank mixture of fear and anguish that fed on itself in an unending cycle. That he would never be able to do anything productive with his life. And more deeply, the residual insecurity that would never be dislodged; that they would find out and hate him. That his friends would despise him, abandon him.
But, as Remus opened his eyes and soaked in the picture of Sirius staring down at him in what could only be called care, concern, and love, he found that insecurity waning away.
He coughed again, until finally, he dislodged the lump in his throat enough that he could cry out and hiccough and laugh because it felt so damn good to just let go—especiallyin Sirius' arms. He felt giddy with relief and although he was tearing himself apart inside, he knew that Sirius would help him glue himself together again. And everything would be ok.
"Good boy…You're such a good boy…That's it Moony, that's it…" Sirius murmured into his ear.
A loud sob tore itself from the center of his soul—louder than the rest, a high keening wail that raised the hair on Sirius' arms—and like dominoes, more followed, falling from his lips unceasingly. His shoulder shook almost violently with the force of his tremors and his sobs, but Sirius held onto him. And he wouldn't let go, Remus knew.
And once he started crying out loud, he couldn't stop. He breathed raggedly, and let it all just fall away… Just fall away, so that he could feel Sirius' hands on his back and shoulders and see the worry in his beautiful eyes and smell his wonderful outdoor scent and hear him hum his favorite tune. And when Sirius rocked him like a baby and pulled him close into his warmth, Remus clung to him until he shook with deep, shuddering breaths.
His head felt oddly heavy when the onslaught of tears slowed, and his body felt languid as he sat in Sirius' lap. He vaguely felt the sensation of Sirius playing with his hair, and reminded himself that he would have to scold him for coming into the hospital wing after hours. But Remus' lips curled upwards, and he fought back a blush because Sirius had come just for him. Now he felt giddy like a schoolgirl talking to her very first crush.
And he felt giddy because without even telling him what was wrong, Sirius just knew. And he took care of Remus. He cared.
And suddenly he felt extremely fatigued, as the night's transformation and his emotional release caught up with him. He trembled weakly in Sirius' arms. He didn't know that crying would be this exhausting. His eyes itched, but he couldn't lift his heavy arms to rub them, and instead nestled his head in the folds of Sirius' night-robes. His hands let go of them and fell against his chest. Remus sat limply, and he knew that he would have fallen over if not for the arms holding him up; his limbs felt like they were dripping with heavy molasses.
It was all he could do to stop himself from falling asleep in the cozy warmth. His breathing had evened out, with a hiccough breaking the silence now and then. Lazy thoughts drifted across his mind. Sirius was so soft.
"Hm…" Remus' eyes had fluttered closed, and his breathing had become deeper.
"We have to get up, love."
Remus' lips quirked up a content smile, and warmth bloomed in his chest. Sirius called him love. He wanted to forget the first part of that sentence, and just focus on the second half. He rubbed his face against Sirius' robes, hoping he would get the message. Why did they have to get up? He felt really nice right now, and he didn't want to get up, thank you very much.
A soft puff of air tickled his ear, and Remus giggled.
Another puff of air, and fingers gently slid the hospital shirt upwards. Remus squirmed in discomfort as cold floated across the small of his back.
"Ah, Remmy, don't do that again," Sirius moaned breathily into his hair.
Remus smiled mischievously and was about to shift his hips again when he felt something at his back. He jumped as warm fingers trailed across his back and then ghost across the pale expanse of his navel, right under the bandages. The fingers left behind a not entirely unpleasant trail of fire, and the tingly feeling exploded throughout his body. His heart thudded in his chest, and he expelled a soft gasp of surprise.
"I told you not to do that…" Sirius chuckled quietly. He let his palms rest above Remus' hips. He squeezed his sides gently, his fingers tickling the smooth skin right under his ribcage, making Remus sigh and tremble and gasp in pleasure. He buried his nose even deeper into Sirius' chest until he parted his robes and came to rest at the plane of pale skin at his collarbone. He could breath in Sirius' scent with every breath, and was very happy.
He licked his chapped lips, and accidentally laved Sirius' neck with his moist tongue.
"Ah…" Sirius moaned, arching his neck.
Remus' brows knit together, but before he could think, he suddenly rocked against Sirius when his fingers dropped even lower, coming to rest against the curve of his hipbones just under his trousers. Remus' eyes widened in shock—that had never happened before. Remus' whole body tensed at the invasion, his shoulders hunched, and his breathing sped up rapidly, and his thoughts swirled about his head madly, and he couldn't think again. The wolf sensed his human's discomfort, but stayed mute, allowing his rational mind to deal.
And just then another aftershock of pain burst from his back. He squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to ride out the awful pain and delicate pleasure, but he couldn't. His chest constricted painfully, and he couldn't breathe for moments. He shuddered from head to toe.
"Is this too much?" Sirius sighed, resting his chin atop Remus' head. He wiggled his fingers experimentally, but stopped when Remus cried out softly.
Remus bit his lip, unsure of what to say. It was too much, at least right now when everything felt so out of control, and when the pain still traced fiery paths down his body. And when he couldn't think. Would Sirius leave him if he said so?
Remus sighed in relief as Sirius removed his fingers, but instantly felt ashamed and reddened. Hot tears filled his eyes again, and he felt them slip down his cheeks, and wet Sirius' chest.
"Hush, now, don't be silly," Sirius admonished. "I'll have my dirty ways with you, yet," he joked. Remus rolled his eyes, instantly feeling better. Sirius was ok with that. That was good, then, he thought tiredly. "But we really have to get up now. Merlin, Moony, when did you get so heavy? I can't feel my legs!" he cried out dramatically, bouncing Remus in his lap.
Remus nearly tumbled over, but smiled shyly and batted his arm playfully. He scooted off Sirius' lap onto the cold floor, and realized guiltily that he had made Sirius sit on the frigid floor. He peered up at his friend, pensively wondering how he—a werewolf—had found someone as caring as Sirius.
Sirius stood up and stretched, yawning widely, and ruffling his already messy hair. Mirth danced in Remus' eyes as Sirius sleepily stumbled over to the other side of the room, nearly tripping on a chair on the way. He continued toward the potions' cabinet and pulled out a small vial of blue liquid. Remus wrinkled his nose. He would have to find some way of not having to take that. He watched from the floor as Sirius rubbed his eyes and set the vial on the table at the next bed. He turned and extended an arm down at Remus.
Remus scooted out from underneath the bed, and kneeled, trying to stand up and reach for Sirius' arm. But his shaking limbs refused to listen, and he fell back down on his bottom. Sirius chuckled good-naturedly when Remus pouted and huffed.
"S' alright Moony. I've got you." Sirius smirked, his eye twinkling in amusement, and knelt beside Remus. Before he could protest, Sirius had grabbed his waist and back, and hefted him into the air against him. After a moment's disorientation, he hastily wrapped his arms around Sirius' neck. He clung to him tightly, and relished in the strong arms that held him close, but glared indignantly up at the boy who was still chuckling at him.
"S' not funny," he said, narrowing his eyes. That made Sirius chuckle even louder; he shook with laughter. "Don't you dare drop me," Remus warned him, poking him on the shoulder.
Sirius loosened his arms experimentally, and Remus yelped.
Both stilled after they heard footsteps echo in the hall outside the Hospital Wing. Remus bit his lip, while Sirius tightened his grip again. They held their breaths, and Remus waited for the doors to burst open and for Madam Pomfrey to shriek at them and assign detentions. The footsteps paused, and Remus could feel his heartbeat thud, in the very same anticipation he felt when they snuck into Honeydukes to buy slabs of honeyed chocolate because it was that good.
Remus jumped when he felt a hot breath of air across his forehead. He turned in annoyance back to Sirius, who smiled crookedly, and glared.
"Stop that!" Remus whispered, turning his head away.
"What? This?" Sirius' chest rumbled as he chuckled. And then blew another breath of air across his ear.
"Sirius, we're going to get in so much trouble!" Remus groaned, trying to shift away from Sirius. "You have to get out of here!"
"Relax," Sirius purred, and bent at the waist to drop Remus gently on the other bed. Remus sat down and clutched the bedcovers. His heart was nigh bursting out of his chest and his senses had sharpened—it was Madam Pomfrey outside in the hall, and he could tell she was about to come inside; he knew Sirius would get caught, and get in trouble again—and it would be because of him. Why did he have to chase trouble? "I won't get caught…"
Sirius rolled his eyes at his apparent worry, and sank down on the bed next to him. He tugged the covers over the both of them, and securely wrapped a hand around Remus' waist.
"Padfoot, please!" Remus begged, trying to push Sirius off the bed. "Go!" The last time Sirius had visited the Hospital Wing after hours, Madam Pomfrey had sworn she would not let him visit if he did that again, and would tell Headmaster Dumbledore about it. Remus bit his lip. He didn't want Sirius to get in trouble, and he didn't want to disappoint anyone. "She's coming!" Remus tilted his head beseechingly at Sirius, who instantly ducked under a pooling silver cloak that he extracted out of his pocket.
Remus heard the footsteps come closer, light slippers slapping against the stone floor, and finally heard the door creak open. He tensed, his fingers catching in the bedspread, as Madame Pomfrey peeked in sleepily, her locks tumbling about her face. Her brow furrowed in worry when she finally met Remus' panicked gaze. Remus held his breath, hoping that all of Sirius' body was safely hidden under Prongs' invisibility cloak.
"Remus, dear? Are you alright?" She made to come inside, but Remus plucked the vial from the table next to him, and held it up.
"I-I just took some Dreamless Sleep, Madame Pomfrey…" He carefully covered the contents of the Pain Potion bottle, and set it back down in the shadows. "Goodnight Madame Pomfrey," he said hurriedly when she paused at the door. She nodded once, and turned back around.
The door clicked shut, and the footsteps receded from the hall. He could hear a distant echo of another door opening and closing. Then silence—with the exception of Sirius' light breathing next to his ear.
"Remus lied! And to Madame Pomfrey! Call the Daily Prophet!" Sirius mock gasped, setting a hand on his heart.
"That was your fault!" Remus hissed, plucking the invisibility cloak off Sirius, who was shaking with laughter.
"My fault?" Sirius' eyebrows shot up, and it would have seemed as though Sirius was actually being serious, but Remus knew better.
"Yes! If you hadn't started breathing on me—"
"I wasn't breathing on you!" Sirius retorted indignantly, crossing his arms.
"Well, you almost got in trouble again—"
Sirius instantly rolled over, and straddled Remus' waist, not quite touching him, though. Remus didn't notice, however, for he was filled with the panic that had bubbled up—that they were almost caught yet again, and had escaped by sheer dumb luck. And James' Invisibility Cloak.
"And you almost dropped me," Remus continued, ticking of reasons on his fingers as to why Madame Pomfrey had almost caught them. He tried to ignore Sirius' proximity as he eased closer to him almost predatorily, but he definitely could not ignore that sweet heat that permeated from his body. Then he made the mistake of looking up, and becoming enthralled in the dark glint in Sirius' eyes that promised more mischief. He stumbled over his own tongue when Sirius put his arms to his sides on the bed—
—and leaned down until his hair tickled Remus' cheeks. Sirius quirked his eyebrow and smirked when Remus opened his mouth to speak again, but couldn't say anything.
Remus pressed himself into the bed as far as he could go. He was quite literally stuck between the bed and Sirius, and could not move either way. He nervously plucked at the covers that were tangled underneath him. He was ever more conscious of the dips in the bed at his waist where Sirius' knees rested and right next to his upper arms where his elbows lay, and the heat that pooled on his body where Sirius legs and arms almost touched him. What was Sirius thinking? Remus gulped.
The blood rushed to his face in embarrassment when he finally completely noticed that Sirius was almost lying on top of him. Sirius was so close that he could see the confident gleam in his dark eyes tinged with mischief. He was so close to that Remus could count the lashes on his eyes, and touch their feathery softness. And he could smell him again. He felt almost drunk with Sirius' scent now—before it had comforted him, soothed him—but now it was something utterly different that he dare not give name to. He could even, if he were that brave, touch his smooth, pale, aristocratic face—touch those pink lips that were always curved in that idiosyncratic crooked smile (maybe someone had cast a permanent sticking charm?). Maybe even run his fingers through his raven locks.
Remus' voice stuck in his throat, and he flushed again when he realized that he had been staring at Sirius for Merlin knows how long. But it wasn't like he could look anywhere else—not with Sirius' face so close to his own, and his warm, soft body across his. He knew he looked like a pathetic idiot with his bloodshot eyes and pathetically tear-stained cheeks and rumpled night-clothes and bandages and tremors racing through his body…
"You're still in pain, aren't you?" Sirius murmured softly in the silence, his eyes darkening.
"I am not taking that potion!" Remus turned his head stubbornly to the side, focusing on the pale sliver of moonlight peeking through the window curtains. His heart, he was sure, would burst out of his chest it was beating so hard. If he had been hyper-sensitive before, he didn't know what this was called.
He could feel everything so vividly in these silent moments—the cool draft of air licking at his bare toes, the wrinkled sheets under his curled palms, the brush of soft robes against his navel where his shirt had ridden up, the dull ache in his neck for pressing down on the pillow so hard, the hair tickling the shell of his ear…He felt so vulnerable, so open, as he lay with his arms bent upwards at the elbows so that his palms rested near his head, his knees half bent and tucked together at an angle. He held his breath.
"Remus…" he heard Sirius whisper huskily. He nearly jumped off the bed when Sirius bent even lower, and nudged the pulse point at his neck with his nose. He whimpered as he felt Sirius' petal-smooth lips brush the spot, his breath sending shocks of excitement through Remus as he stayed in that position. He dared not move his head, waiting to see what Sirius would do next.
He arched, inadvertently pulling both boys' bodies together, when Sirius pressed his teeth against the arch of his neck, and bit down gently. Remus whimpered plaintively, and the sheets twisted his hands as his fingers fought to take hold of something as the pleasure rippled through him. He could feel Sirius' teeth sink deeper, his lips suctioning against his skin, until he was sure he'd die. He could feel his cool hair cascade down his neck, hiding from the world what Sirius was doing to him. He wanted to move so badly, to hold Sirius against him again—but he didn't know how, he didn't know if that would drive him away.
He started when felt Sirius brush his fingertips lazily trace across the insides of his wrists, and almost didn't gasp when another lash of pain tore through his spine, causing tears to slip down his cheeks. His face burned. He clenched his teeth, and fought to breathe through his nose. He knew Sirius could feel his heart race in pain and in pleasure.
Sirius' teeth parted to let go of his bruised skin under his chin, now throbbing with his every pulse. He could still feel his moist mouth suckling his neck, but it was gone now. Remus sighed and closed his eyes in defeat—Sirius would leave now; and why not? Why would he want him? He was being a bloody burden.
Why was Sirius with him—a werewolf—when he could be with anyone? Was he holding him back from happiness? Was he being selfish? Another wave of agony, coupled with anguish, threatened to toss him into oblivion.
"Babe, I'm never letting you go…" Sirius murmured, his lips brushing the gentle curve of his jaw-line.
Remus' eyes flew open, and he turned his face to meet Sirius' eyes in surprise. He must have looked shocked, for when he met Sirius' eyes, smoky and dangerously glinting in the sliver of moonlight snaking across their bed, Sirius curved his fingers and fit them snugly between Remus' and gripped his hands against the covers.
His breath hitched, and he couldn't fill his lungs with enough air, somehow. Especially not when Sirius decided to shift closer to him, so that both boys' faces were only centimeters apart; Sirius was so close, Remus thought in shock, that he could have counted the dark lashes curling sensually atop Sirius' darkly glinting eyes.
His heart fluttered madly when he realized that Sirius was staring at him with burning eyes. His heart pounded loudly in his ears, and his blood sang, and he fought the irrational urge to flinch away when Sirius lowered his head. He could feel Sirius' hot breaths ghost across his face, laced with the scent of mint.
Suddenly, silky softness brushed gently across his sensitive lips, causing his mouth to tingle and his head to reel. Waves of pleasure threatened to drown Remus, but he found that he didn't care—not with Sirius' warm body melded perfectly atop his, limbs carefully tucked next to each other, chest against chest, lips lightly resting atop lips.
Remus felt Sirius shudder. He knew Sirius felt him shiver, too.
"Never, never, never…" He felt Sirius' lips move against his parted mouth, pressed to his lips lightly. His lips moved with Sirius', opening and closing after each word. Puffs of air accentuated each syllable in breathy sighs, and heated the cool skin of Remus' cheeks, each word sending him flying into giddy oblivion.
He felt himself sinking deeper and deeper into the mattress, his body languidly lax under Sirius' body. His fingers involuntarily twitched in Sirius' hands, and he let his eyes drift shut in contentment. His tingling lips turned upward against Sirius', seconds later Sirius' curled his own lips. Remus breathed in shallow pants as pure feeling rushed through him.
"Why?" Remus croaked out somehow, trying to ignore Sirius' sumptuous lips. He needed to hear this. He needed to hear why Sirius wanted him. But at that moment, he felt Sirius tense, and the atmosphere shattered.
Sirius shifted against his body, sitting up now. Remus opened his eyes and waited in anticipation, desire thrumming impatiently in his veins, and his wolf complaining.
"Remus," Sirius began, his voice husky with desire. Remus couldn't help but shiver and fight the blood from rushing to his face. Sirius just exuded raw sexuality—there was no other way to describe it. He watched as Sirius blinked once, his lashes dusting his cheeks and then coming to rest above his eyes again.
"I love you, babe," he said simply, his eyes and body backing his declaration. This time, his smile was sincere—not mischievous, not a smirk or a sneer, just a simple, pure smile that lit up his eyes. Remus resisted the desire to trace those devilishly curling lips, those cutely crinkling dimples—not that he'd ever tell Sirius that.
Remus' head felt close to exploding.
"But, why me?" Surely he could have anyone else.
"Mine," Sirius growled possessively, and tightened his grip reflexively on Remus' hands. Remus could feel his chest rumble against his, and that sensation overpowered his hearing for a split second. He licked his dry lips, and blinked. Did Sirius just say what he thought he did? The look of incredulity was probably apparent, and Sirius opened his mouth to repeat himself, his eyes narrowing and glinting darker than they ever had before. Remus' breath hitched in his throat, and he waited, frowning. It seemed that Sirius was mad—was he mad at him? He thought worriedly.
Remus mustered his courage, and the words tumbled out of his mouth, much like the emotions that Sirius had provoked him to spill earlier. Although it broke his heart to say it, he said it anyways, knowing it was true. His eyes stung, and his tongue was heavy in his mouth, but he said it.
"You can't love a werewolf—"
"Listen to me!" Sirius bellowed, ignoring Remus' surprised gasp. He instantly sat up straighter, still straddling Remus' hips, and shook him by the shoulders, knocking a lock of hair into his eyes. "Listen to me," Sirius snarled, gripping his shoulders almost painfully. His face had transformed, contorting in anger that Remus had only once seen before. He trembled. Was he the cause? What had he done?
In a distant part of his mind, he knew he would have bruises tomorrow. Sensing Remus' discomfort, Sirius loosened his grip fractionally, and hung his head, his hair hiding his eyes. He shook his head, as though to clear it, and let go of his shoulders.
"S-sorry, Padfoot," Remus began hesitantly. The wolf growled angrily at him. He was sure he had gone and bollixed things again. He closed his eyes as pain burst from his back, and his hands fisted in the sheets. His head fell back against the pillow, and he really couldn't seem to get enough air into his struggling lungs. He thought his vision had gone a little fuzzy, and there had been spots in his vision before he blinked furiously to clear them away.
Distantly, he heard Sirius say something, but couldn't figure out the words. Wasn't Sirius mad at him?
"Breathe, just breathe, Remus," Sirius soothed. Remus fought the urge to panic. Why couldn't he breathe? He moaned. The pain. Not the pain again. He started to thrash in the bed, but something was stopping him. He felt a starburst of pain in his wrist, but ignored it. Dammit, he needed air. He bucked against the force that was holding him down, and shook his head from side to side.
"Hurts," he heard himself whimper. Colors flashed behind his eyes, and his chest was tightening impossibly. He could feel his limbs fall numb, the painful prickly sensation traveling through his arms and legs. Not again…
"Just breathe, Remus," coaxed Sirius. "Everything'll be alright, you'll see."
"Can't." Remus felt tears slip down his cheeks. He was shaking again, he knew it. Things were swirling in and out of his conscious now, and he let his head loll onto the pillow. Pain. Pain. Pain. Daggers hammering away at the back of his skull. Acid racing through his veins. His bones splintering. Blood. Pain. Pain. Pain. He couldn't breathe.
He felt a gentle pressure at his chest. It rose and fell. And forced his chest to do the same. He tried to gulp in air greedily, but the motions at his chest kept him calm. Up. Down. In. Out.
Ever so slowly, the buzzing in his head receded. The tingling disappeared, and he could breathe on his own.
Opening his eyes, the first thing he saw was impenetrable darkness—and he thought that maybe he hadn't opened his eyes. Blinking dazedly from the after-shocks of the pain, the only thing he could see were pools of darkness, still. And then the inky darkness blinked back.
"Can you breathe, now?" Breaths tickled his cheeks.
Remus nodded tiredly, and basked in the soft warmth of the solid body above him.
"M'sorry," he rasped. "Didn't mean it…" Remus could feel Sirius wiping the tears off his cheeks. Tonight, he mused, seemed to be a night filled with tears.
"Hush," Sirius' voice washed over him. Safe, the wolf reminded Remus, and he relaxed under Sirius, who coaxed his taut muscles to relax as he massaged his arms and back. He hated this, he thought sullenly. How many times would the pain come at him. Hadn't he already had enough with the transformation?
"M'sorry…" Remus repeated miserably. "Don't leave me…please, please, Padfoot…" Remus whimpered. "I'm so scared…"
Remus felt Sirius sit up again. His hands curled about his shoulders, and pulled him into a sitting position against the pillows. Remus looked everywhere but at Sirius. He didn't want to look at his expression.
He felt Sirius lean towards him again.
"You." Sirius gently brushed the errant lock of hair from his eyes, letting his fingers trace the gentle curve of his cheekbone. Remus' neck arched slightly into the touch, wanting to feel more of that loving, human warmth. "Are." Sirius leaned in, closing the space between the two boys, letting his chest brush against Remus', pushing his pliant form back into the pillows. His nerves sang in anticipation. "Mine." Remus felt Sirius' damp breath wash across his face before the familiar pair of lips settled on his lips, pressing down slightly. He shivered at Sirius' possessive tone. "Understand?" Sirius lifted his forehead, and rested it against Remus' and waited for his answer. Remus smiled hesitantly, and nodded, not trusting his voice enough to speak. Sirius' eyes held a mischievous light again, and the anger had disappeared. Remus sighed in relief. "Good." Sirius pressed his lips to Remus' mouth again, and their noses bumped together. Remus broke into a huge grin and Sirius chuckled, the smooth sound echoing pleasantly throughout the quiet room.
"I." He kissed the corner of his lips, which instantly curved upwards. "Will." Another brush of petal smooth lips against his jaw-line. Remus shifted so Sirius could gain better access with his talented mouth. "Never." Sirius pressed his mouth at the slope of Remus' moist cheekbones. A healthy dash of pink dusted his face, and his glistening lashes fluttered before he closed his eyes, sighing. "Let." This time, warm puffs of air and soft skin on his eyelid. "You." The other eye. "Go." Moist lips lingering at the center of his forehead. Remus opened his eyes slowly, only to find those darkened depths staring back at him with warmth and love and compassion and all the wonderful things that characterized the hidden side of Sirius Black.
Sirius looked at him for an indeterminable amount of time. It may have been minutes, it may very well have been hours or days—all that mattered was that Sirius was his, and he was Sirius'—because in the end they would be together and their limbs would lie tangled, and their chests would be pressed together, and they would keep each other warm.
Sirius smiled, and shifted, reaching across the bed for something. In one quick movement he was leaning back atop Remus, who stared at Sirius confusedly. His eyes widened only slightly as Sirius bent and pressed his warm, damp lips against Remus' mouth insistently. He jolted when a small wet muscle traced his lower lip slowly, probing, begging for entrance. Remus' toes curled and he arched closer to that delicious body, while threading his fingers into Sirius' silky black hair as Sirius pressed him against the pillows.
Remus shivered, and he pulled Sirius closer, relishing in the softness, the warmth. He let Sirius' hot tongue lead a trail of tingling fire across his lips, before moaning, and opening his mouth. Sirius caressed Remus' jaw with his thumbs, and tipped his head back before allowing his tongue to enter his mouth. Remus wanted so badly to keep his eyes open, to see the expressions on Sirius' face, to see the rapt pleasure and pure love, but he couldn't—the sensations were so overwhelming all he could do was wrap his arms around Sirius' muscled body and pull him closer.
Seconds after Sirius' tongue had traced the edges of his lips into his mouth, Remus found it no problem to open his eyes. In fact, Sirius would later say that he looked rather bug-eyed. But at the moment, Remus' eyes flew open in panic and he began to pull back, but Sirius' hands held his head tightly.
Remus could almost feel Sirius smirking against his mouth as the all-too-familiar taste of Pain relief Potion washed across his tongue, numbing his taste-buds. He tried turning his head to break away from Sirius' tongue, which gently eased the Potion into his mouth, but Sirius merely opened his mouth wider and chuckled into Remus' mouth. Remus nearly sputtered, but swallowed as Sirius pushed the last of the syrupy potion into his mouth. Remus, although he denied this later, emitted a squeak of indignation, and narrowed his eyes.
But he couldn't remain angry, for Sirius gently wove his fingers into his hair, and massaged his head. Remus felt his eyes drift shut, and his mouth go lax under Sirius' ministrations. Although the bitter taste of the potion remained in his mouth, the even sweeter taste of Sirius possessed his very senses.
Sirius' warm tongue moved languidly in Remus' mouth, tracing the top row of his teeth, front to back, tickling his cheeks, before moving to the bottom row. Both boys breathed heavily through their noses, but neither wanted to stop—ever. After mapping out the curves and ridges of Remus' teeth, Sirius' tongue slithered upwards, sliding across the roof of Remus' mouth. The younger moaned appreciatively; the sensitive nerves caught aflame in pleasure as Sirius massaged his hot cavern.
The tremors in his body had subsided, the headache was just barely noticeable, and pure pleasure raced through his body. Remus nearly arched off the bed as the tip of Sirius' tongue nudged his own tongue playfully. His breath catching, Remus' tongue curled against the bottom of his mouth shyly. Sirius persistently slid his tongue full-length atop his.
Remus moaned, winding Sirius' hair about his fingers and tugging, pushing him even closer until both boys were a tangle of limbs. Sirius pressed his lips down harder, causing Remus' lips to tingle sending pleasure criss-crossing up and down his body, and coaxed Remus' tongue to play with his. Remus felt Sirius groan appreciatively, the vibrations passing through both of their chests, as Remus mustered the courage and slid his moist tongue against Sirius', taste-buds aligning, both boys memorizing the flavor and scent of the other. Sirius lowered one of his hands down to Remus' waist, and edged the shirt up, slipping a hand inside, tickling the skin under his ribs.
Finally, both boys turned away, breathing heavily. Sirius collapsed against Remus' chest, the hot breath at his neck sending thrills of excitement up and down Remus' body—Remus was dizzy with bliss. The nerves of his mouth still sizzled with the smooth action of Sirius' soft tongue against his.
He languidly brushed his fingers through Sirius' locks, carding through the knots, the hair slipping like water from his fingers. Sirius bent his head again, and Remus hissed as Sirius caught his bottom lip between his teeth, and sucked it, tickling the lip with his tongue, while both panted, their hot, damp breaths mingling.
"You-you tricked me," Remus moaned as Sirius trailed his fingers up and down his chest.
"Is that all you can say?" Sirius asked not a little bit breathlessly, and set his cheek against Remus'. "I don't think it was that bad, Moony, do you?" He nipped Remus' earlobe, and swirled his tongue around the shell damply. "I think it was quite hot," he whispered huskily.
Remus shifted his head away from Sirius' enticing ministrations.
"You tricked me," he repeated, unable to establish a coherent train of thought in his pleasure-jumbled brain—which was Sirius' fault, too, he reasoned. He fought the urge to moan as Sirius plucked his hands from the covers, and splashed soft butterfly kisses at the sensitive skin at his wrists.
"Of course I did," Sirius declared, winking up at him roguishly.
"Eurgh, that tasted horrible," Remus said, wrinkling his nose. He almost protested when Sirius let go of his hands, but instead burst into a wide smile as Sirius plucked something else from his pocket. "Chocolate!" Remus cried, reaching for the parcel in Sirius' hands, but Sirius sat up.
Sirius popped open the box, breaking a small rectangle of mint chocolate in his hands. He stowed the rest away, and leaned back down, holding the chocolate between his fingers. Remus quirked an eyebrow in obvious curiosity and watched Sirius smirked.
He hummed happily as Sirius held the chocolate to his lips. He felt it melt and dribble down his lip before he accepted it into his mouth. Just like Sirius' tongue moments ago, Remus sucked on the melting confection, mint and chocolate coating his lips and the inside of his mouth.
And it came as no shock to him when Sirius bent down and deftly bit down on the chocolate, and licked the lingering traces from Remus' lips.
"Like it?" Sirius asked.
"Absolutely." Remus licked his lips. "What's it called?"
"Sirius Black," he replied seriously, earning a poke on the shoulder. Moments passed in silence. Sirius rolled off of Remus, and pulled the covers out from under their tangled legs and over their bodies. Remus shivered at the loss of Sirius' warmth, but nearly howled in happiness as he felt the familiar weight of Sirius' arm settle across his waist, pulling him close.
He rested his head against the nape of Sirius' neck, and let his eyes drift shut as his boyfriend rubbed his back slowly. The wolf howled happily. Moony with mate! It cheered.
Remus sighed contentedly, and heard Sirius mirror him, their breath tickling their faces. Remus grinned in Sirius' arms, tucked safely against his chest—where the bad dreams dared not visit, where the pain abated instantly, and where he was loved for who he was, unconditionally, until the end of time.
A thousand chocolate kisses (the Hershey's kind) to whoever reviews! : p