"Moony. . ." The word whispered across his skin and rested warm and wet against his lips.
The bedsprings groaned as Sirius moved in the darkness and straddled his legs. The heat hovered between them.
"Do you want me?" Sirius murmured as he leaned closer. His dark hair draped around Remus' face. Sirius smelled damp and earthy, like the forest at midnight. He smelled like racing blood and steaming sweat. He smelled like freedom. Remus' mouth twitched as he ran his hands low along Sirius's naked back. He laughed when Sirius gasped.
"Yes," Remus sighed, pulling him closer. Their lips touched. "Yes," he whispered again and tasted the supple sweetness of Sirius's tongue entwined with his.
He felt Sirius throbbing against his thigh. The bed shifted beneath them. Sirius' hand trailed up his chest to Remus' mouth. His tongue traced each finger, slowly savoring the spicy saltiness that was Sirius. Sirius ground his hips. Remus moaned. His erection twitched as flesh touched flesh.
"Do you need me?" Sirius breathed.
Remus' heart beat thick against his chest. He licked Sirius' palm and guided it lower. His pulse pounded in his ears. One wet finger snaked over the length of him. He drove his hips higher.
"Do you trust me?" Sirius whispered, and Remus opened his mouth to answer, but no words came.
"Do you trust me?" Sirius said again. His words were firm and close against his ear. He tried once more to speak, but the words died in his throat. They would not come. And then he felt Sirius's body covering his own, pressing hard on Remus like a slab, his once warm flesh now cruel and cold.
Remus gasped and Sirius laughed. His laughter penetrated Remus' body and vibrated against his bones.
And suddenly, his weight, his scent, his voice were gone—transfigured into the stark brutality of morning.
The sun stung. Memory flooded his head, choking out every emotion. Three words tolled through his body like a bell: Betrayal. Death. Azkaban.
And his eyes finally opened.