A/N: This is all your fault, Julie (remuslives23). It's impossible to read your smut in the morning and then go to school and teach kindergartners that "F says /f/ as in fox" when you're thinking of a much more interesting word that begins with 'f'. I hope you're happy.
(And for those who don't know, remuslives23 IS the Goddess of R/S Smut. Check out 'Satisfying Their Curiosity" or 'It Was Only a Kiss'. You won't regret it!)
Disclaimer: I'm asking JKRowling if I can have them for Christmas, but I doubt very seriously that she'll agree. So, they still belong to her.
Of all the people in the world, Sirius knows that only Remus can truly accept him for what he could have been. Born into a family of Dark wizards, Sirius could very easily have been just like them. He knew as a child, though, that he was never going to be everything that being a Black meant. While he proved this by getting sorted into Gryffindor, he always had felt that he had to go an extra mile in order to further demonstrate that he wasn't to be judged by who his family was. Remus understands this. Remus is supposed to be considered a Dark creature, but there is nothing Dark about the man that he is. Only Remus, a Dark creature that everyone fears, can ever understand the dark thoughts and the dark moods of Sirius Black. There are no barriers between them, and they are able to see and respect and fear things that lay deep within their souls — but their love never falters for all that. Their relationship is made solid by their acceptance of even the ugliness that they possess within them.
Sirius is handsome; he always has been. But the sight of him lying beneath Remus, stretched out on the bed, always takes Remus' breath away. He finds it constantly amazing that anyone as beautiful as Sirius could want someone like him. The patrician features: high forehead, classical nose, chiseled chin; the grey eyes; the clear skin; the long limbs… Remus can spend hours licking, kissing, and worshipping every part. He has to admit, though, that he finds Sirius the most beautiful when the Animagus is climaxing — and that Remus is the only man to ever have seen Sirius at this point. It is an unbearably possessive thought and always brings Remus off just as quickly.
Did you expect another word? Sirius can never think of another word beginning with this letter that would make him think of Remus. It's not that he only thinks of Remus in that way, that the werewolf with his magnificent cock is some kind of sex toy, and that's all there is to their relationship. No, Remus' cock fits perfectly in Sirius' hand; it slips easily inside his mouth; and it fills his arse completely, creating pleasure that Sirius could never have imagined. Those moments when they are joined by Remus' phallus are the times when Sirius can honestly feel that they are one — not just two lovers, two soulmates, two partners — no. They are one entity — and he revels in that expression of their love.
Sirius is game to try anything. They'll be eating dinner, discussing the events of the day, when he will suddenly look across the table and say, "Want to try rimming?" or "Want to fuck on the roof?" Remus will swear Sirius does it deliberately to make Remus choke, but he's learned how to handle every off-handed question: he'll put his fork down , stand up, and grab whatever part of Sirius he can and then drag him off to do whatever Sirius has suggested. They've nearly been caught two dozen times in questionable poses and situations, but Remus loves that Sirius is daring him to live life to the fullest.
Is there ever more of a turn-on than seeing his gentle, thoughtful Remus become a dominating force? Sirius can't think of one. His lover's gentle but annoyed whisper, "Padfoot, don't," when they are with others becomes a demandingly growled, "Sirius, do!" when they are alone. His blue eyes become darker and possessive; his fingers are by turns light and teasing then exacting and bruising; his long legs pull Sirius even closer and deeper into the werewolf's body. His growls and moans send shivers of pleasure through Sirius. Remus rarely just speaks when they are making love — he gives commands — but always Sirius' name is what is whispered, gasped, or screamed when Remus comes. Sirius finds that incredibly erotic.
If Remus has to come up with one word to describe Sirius, he chooses this one. There is no one more fierce than Sirius. He is fierce in his friendships, his beliefs, and his love. He does everything fiercely, because he knows that not only should life be treasured but it should also be lived. Sex is also sometimes very fierce, with teeth instead of just tongues, with slapping instead of just caressing. He then explodes almost to the point of unconsciousness. Remus finds himself marvelling that his mate can abandon himself to that point.
Sirius listens for the growl. He's never told Remus how much that simple, animalistic sound turns him on, because he knows it will make Remus self-conscious. But the fact is, Sirius knows that the growl when Remus is deep within him means that even the wolf is claiming Sirius as a mate, as a partner. Yes, Sirius listens for the growl and usually comes as a result of it.
One of the first things that Sirius did when he found out about Remus' condition was to look up Healing spells that he could do. Granted, Madam Pomfrey was more than capable of dealing with Remus' wounds after the full moon, but Sirius would counter that argument with his own observation that they wouldn't be in school forever. "Who will take care of Remus then?" he'd demand.
Now that they live together and are together, Sirius is the one who heals the worst of Remus' injuries. But he does more than heal the physical body. He makes Remus feel whole. He completes Remus, and makes him more than Remus ever thought he'd be. He makes Remus feel… human. Yes, the healing goes much deeper than the physical.
Sirius laughs when he hears that Remus would label him as fierce. He sobers quickly when he says his one-word description for Remus is this one. Remus is intense with everything because he feels everything intensely. From the moment they met, Sirius noticed how intently Remus would concentrate on his books and essays, to the point that a little line would appear right above the bridge of his nose between his eyebrows. His daydreams are so intense, his hair can been charmed twenty different colours before he notices (and Sirius knows this because he and James did it once). The intensity of his eyes as they follow Sirius sends shivers through the Animagus, because he knows that those piercing blue eyes promise things that should be illegal in many countries.
Neither Remus nor Sirius have had a happy life. Neither one of them can remember a time when something horrible and dark wasn't looming over them or touching them, even at the best of times. So, Remus was amazed when he felt something unexpected and rare the first time that they kissed. The feeling is repeated every time they are together — and it is nearly addicting. The joy that wells up inside Remus, infusing every touch, every kiss, every thrust with its warmth, makes 'sex' become 'making love'. Only Sirius has given Remus this much joy, and by the look of exultation on Sirius' face when he insists on pleasuring Remus, the feeling is as deep-rooted in the Animagus as in the werewolf.
Sirius can't get enough of Remus' kisses. They are deep, soul-searching, and soul-reaching. From their first kiss, even as tentative as it was, Sirius knew that their positions would be reversed in the bedroom. Yes, he could tell, as Remus' tongue explored his mouth and Remus' lips practically bruised his, that Remus would demand more from Sirius than anyone else ever had. He commands Sirius to respond, asks him to give everything. And Remus' slow, tender kisses are even more breath-taking: gentle, insistent — and they leave no doubt that Remus is giving himself every bit as much as he is taking.
Remus doesn't laugh much. It's not in his nature. He guards himself so carefully that to laugh without inhibitions is almost abhorrent to him. And yet, with Sirius, he finds himself not only chuckling, but occasionally roaring with laughter at his partner's antics. Now, this does not mean that Sirius does not get a stern talking-to later, especially when he admits that he, in Padfoot form, chased the neighbour's cat into another neighbour's flat, or some other silly thing. But for a moment, when Remus laughs at Sirius' ridiculous behaviour, he can forget that he needs to keep walls up and people at an arm's length. Sirius helps him laugh at himself, and without laughter, they'd have no hope for happiness.
Sirius is more possessive than anyone knows. Well, anyone except Remus. Remus has often been stunned by a confrontational Sirius, wanting to know where 'his' bowl is, or if Remus drank out of 'his' mug. There is a certain cabinet that holds Sirius' favourite foods—and woe to anyone who nicks so much as a pretzel from that cabinet. This carries over into their bed — or wherever else Remus and Sirius choose to express their love for one another physically. While Sirius loves giving pleasure as much as he loves receiving it, he can't help but mark Remus at least once with a love bite every time they're intimate. It's a sign that Remus is still his and his alone. And Remus smiles to hear the softest, most self-satisfied, yet fiercest of whispers, which accompanies a brush of lips on his arm or the back of his shoulder: "Mine."
Remus knows there is more to his love for Sirius than just loving and wanting the Animagus. He needs Sirius. He breathes Sirius in like oxygen, drinks him like water, finds shelter in his arms. If Sirius is gone for long periods of time, Remus feels off-balance, weak, cold, and breathless. He doesn't know exactly when and how it has become like this, but he knows Sirius feels the same. He's seen the lost and desperate look mirrored in Sirius' eyes when Sirius comes in from a mission, and he'll see it fade as their hands and mouths explore each other all over again, greedily needing to make sure that everything is still in working order.
Sirius knows that Remus can't afford the gifts that he'd like to give Sirius. Sirius doesn't want nearly as much as Remus thinks. All he wants is to know that Remus is willing to give Sirius his heart. Remus does more than that. A single hand placed upon Sirius' tense shoulder means support. A cup of hot tea after sloshing around in the rain means comfort. And Remus, naked and spread-eagled on the bed, means that he's willing to offer himself and his vulnerability to Sirius. It's difficult for him, to be that open; Sirius accepts the offering as graciously and as gently as he can. He recognises a precious and perfect gift when he sees it.
Remus truly appreciates that the Marauders became Animagi for him. To know that there were others there to make sure that he wouldn't rip his own belly open or sever an artery gives him a peace that he would never have thought possible. But Padfoot is — special. Even though they're lovers, sometimes there are times when human words fail and sympathy or compassion are not enough. Remus will never ask but Sirius, with almost canine instinct, knows. He'll transform into the big, black mutt and lie down next to or on top of the werewolf and let Remus' long fingers stroke the black silky fur until his troubled mind is eased. Remus will never cry in front of Sirius, if at all possible, but Padfoot's head has been christened with tears several times over. Remus and Sirius both chuckle at the thought of Prongs sprawled across Remus' lap. But, all teasing aside, it's something more that they share, another layer to what makes them them.
No matter how loud the two of them get during sex, no matter what is whispered, growled, or spoken, they will fall together afterward, wrapped in each other's arms and enjoy just being together. Those quiet moments give Sirius time to try to define in his head what it is that he and Remus have together. He can never quite do it though. So, he'll simply bask in the silence. He'll stare at his partner, awed that Remus can want him like this. He'll smile at the lazy, pleased smile on Remus' lips because it is rare that Remus can completely let go and relax. Sirius loves that he is the only one who sees Remus like this.
There are times, usually after the full moon, when Remus still can feel the wolf treading close to his consciousness. His thoughts and dreams are more brutal, because the wolf is fighting the fact that Remus will be able to keep it subdued for the next few weeks. Sirius knows of the restlessness and sleeplessness, though not the specifics. He will awaken and wrap one arm around Remus and talk utter nonsense to him while Remus lies tensely beside him, feeling as if his brain and heart have been savaged by the wolf. But finally, Sirius' sleepy chatter will reach through the rawness and touch something deep inside Remus, and he will sigh in relief, because he can hear the wolf howl in frustration as it retreats. Remus fears he will be lost forever one day, and each time Sirius pulls him away from the rawness and anger of the wolf, he considers it a miracle.
Sirius finds every one of Remus' scars incredibly sexy and amazing. They tell tales, those scars. They tell of pain and anger, but also bravery and perseverance. Sirius follows them with his fingers and his tongue, letting them lead to Remus' back and his navel and his cock. He explores the softness between the scars, and marvels at the contrast in texture. Remus' scars are roadmaps to pleasure.
Trust hasn't come easily. Absolute trust led to an absolute betrayal and Remus will be the first to admit it's been an issue. Slowly, ever so slowly, trust has been reestablished between them. Trust now not only means that Sirius won't set Remus up to be a murderer, but that if he would ask Remus to kill someone, Remus might just consider it — as long as they discuss it first. Having absolute trust in each other has led to some very interesting games in the bedroom, too. Sirius will never tell anyone what he was doing to get the friction burns on his wrists the night of his birthday last year. Remus will just smile smugly if you ask.
It's one of the few things that really bothers Sirius about Remus. Nothing shakes him. Well, sex will bring out things that others would be shocked to know. But no matter what Sirius says, Remus never looks shocked. He might crook an eyebrow at Sirius with disdain or roll his eyes with a 'Grant me patience' sigh. There are even times when the corner of his mouth might quirk up in the barest ghost of a smile — and then it's gone. Sirius swears one day he'll find something that will disturb his lover's calm. He keeps trying. But, damn it, if asking Remus if he wanted to try rimming while they were eating beef stew didn't do it, what will?
They love each other. It's a simple fact. It's demonstrated in the little things, like Sirius bringing home Remus' favourite tea or Chinese take-out, or Remus making sure Sirius' favourite cookies are at hand. It's commiseration when Remus loses a job or rejoicing when the Order is successful in defying Voldemort. It's touches and looks and things spoken and things implied that add up to something special. It took a while, but now Remus can acknowledge the truthfulness of Sirius' love for him. He had thought that it was pure lust; he had underestimated Sirius, though. Sirius loves him wholeheartedly — and he feels the same about Sirius.
Sirius had grown up with wealth. He had grown up with people who were rich with money and property and drunk with power. Now, he has only what Uncle Alphard has left him — and Remus. Remus occasionally lapses into guilty silences and lashes out with even guiltier comments that he's not contributing to the household finances. But how, Sirius wonders, can Remus think that? How can he think that greeting Sirius at the door with a hot, open-mouthed kiss isn't worth something? Sirius knows that waking up every morning with the smell of breakfast cooking is definitely worth a week's rent at least. Going to sleep wrapped in each other's arms is worth more Galleons than Sirius could ever pay. And the werewolf's defence spells are flawless; they've saved Sirius' life at least a dozen times. Sirius grew up with wealth. Now he has a different kind of wealth and he wouldn't trade it for anything.
They've established their home — a simple one-floor, four-room flat in the middle of London. The walls are painted some odd shade of green that they insist they're going to change some time, but have yet to do. The tiles in the bathroom are only hanging on the wall because of Sticking Charms. Cabinet doors refuse to close properly in the kitchen. But the bed is sturdy and comfortable, and the shower — with a little help from Warming Charms — stays warm while they indulge in other things other than washing. The kitchen table is strong enough to take things that James and Peter are better off not knowing about, because they'd never eat at it again. It's not much, but it's perfect for Remus and Sirius. As long as the two of them are together, it's heaven, is what it is.
Sirius had pursued Remus, thinking that Remus would submit to his every whim and word. The first few months were incredible because of their mutual explorations and their discoveries — things that even being in the same dormitory room hadn't taught them. Sirius learned his lessons well, though. He's learned that submitting to Remus means that amazing and fantastic things happen — and he applies that lesson as often as possible. Yes, there are times when he needs to take control — and does. But yielding means more than just submission — it's proving over and over that he loves Remus enough to give himself entirely to the werewolf, and that Remus loves him enough not to take advantage of it.
They've fucked wildly, without inhibition and sometimes with anger. They've made love gently and slowly, affirming their love with every thrust and touch. They've done things to each other that they'll probably never do again. Remus knows that Sirius doesn't mind a few silk cords wrapped around his wrists and ankles; Sirius knows Remus doesn't mind a little pain at the right time to heighten pleasure. Kissing Remus on the nape of his neck while he's reading will actually make him put the book down. Rubbing Sirius' calf muscles will lead straight to the bedroom. But when they are absolutely together — physically, mentally, and emotionally — they can find a mutual stride in which they reach the height of pleasure together. It doesn't happen all the time, but when it does, the absolute perfection of it all leaves them exhausted and boneless. They drape themselves over one another and sleep peacefully, content in each other's presence and love.
Care to tell me which letter was your favourite?