ITALICS REPRESENT FLASBACKS.
Warning: Mentions yaoi.
A/N: This fanfic is dedicated to Alaerys...who is awesome. Please be kind, this is only my second attempt at NC-17 rated material. And don't forget to rate and review. I'll give you Dark Mark-shaped cookies!
Sirius sat on the highest level of 12 Grimmauld Place with nothing but memories and a hippogriff to keep him company. The cheery noises of everyone else carried up, and he could hear them despite the closed door. It was hard not to be bitter. He was finally free of Azkaban, and his reward was to be locked up in the depths of the place he loathed most. With each sound of merriment he heard, Sirius felt more and more alone. No one seemed to care that he sat by himself in the lonely confines of the attic.
"It's just the two of us," he mumbled to Buckbeak while he ran a hand through his feathers. As if to disprove him, a knock came from the door. In a worried whisper, Harry spoke.
"Sirius, are you okay?" He had no reply for his godson. All he could tell Harry was that he was bitter, trapped, and felt almost as useless as he had in Azkaban. But that wasn't anything to talk about with a fifteen year-old. "May I come in?" Still, Sirius gave no answer. Despite his lack of response – or perhaps because of it - the door creaked open.
"'Ello." Sirius' eyes travelled over to the figure obscured in shadow. He couldn't see Harry's face, but was certain the boy had a drastically concerned expression. Sure enough, the moment he revealed himself, his emerald eyes were filled with nothing but worry.
"You didn't go downstairs." It was an awkward way to stat the conversation.
"No. It's not like anyone notices it." Stormy, grey eyes gazed blindly at the room, as if it was something in a different dimension that held his attention. "Except for you," he quickly amended.
"Actually, we've all been worried about you. You've locked yourself in a room with Buckbeak and refused to come out. Don't think I don't notice the empty bottles of Firewhiskey lying around each morning." All he had to do was say it. Had Sirius even opened his mouth and uttered one word of his problems, he was sure he would feel better. Yet Harry had too many responsibilities as it was. "Sirius?"
"I thought I was going to be doing something for the Order when I escaped Azkaban. I was delusional for the last few days, and when I finally managed to slip out, the only thing that felt as good as the freedom was knowing I was going to fight again and avenge your parents' deaths. What have I done?" There was a pause as he made a disgusted face. "I'm almost more useless out of Azkaban than in it. At least then I didn't get in anyone's way."
"That's not true. This makes really good Headquarters." Upon hearing this, his godfather grimaced. "Plus, you are my godfather, after all. You and Remus are practically like parents to me." For once, the hardened features obscured behind the shaggy, black hair gained a certain gentleness. Though he remained silent, his look said thanks enough. Still, there was a pause. "Sirius?"
"Did you ever like anyone?" The sudden change of topic and tone startled Sirius so much that he couldn't answer immediately. The question just had been entirely unexpected. From Harry of all people…
"Yes, there was someone I loved very much," he managed to murmur as soon as he recovered. Perhaps a more attentive person would notice the pain shrouding his eyes, or the way his teeth slightly bit down on his lower lip. It wasn't to say that Harry didn't care enough about his Godfather to pay attention, but rather that he was a teenage boy. And as a teenage boy, he wasn't the most attentive person on earth.
"What happened?" Curiosity coated his voice, and he tilted his head to the side. Sirius flinched a little, but upon seeing his Godson smiling up at him, couldn't help but smile himself.
I clutched the body to my chest. Dead, it wasn't possible! I expected to see a grin or a laugh on those lips. But they parted in unspoken words and never-drawn breaths. Eyes gazed sightlessly, yet I stubbornly had to believe it was some odd sleep or trance. There wasn't a single upward twitch of those two cursed lines. Limpness and ice cold skin proved me wrong.
I had to defy the evidence. There was a need to. But I couldn't, and with heaving sobs, I broke down. Dead. Gone. My hands gripped the robes, and I clenched the cloth between my fingers. My life crashed around me. Everything worth living for had been robbed from me.
"The war. Plenty of others died as well. It was dangerous to love because everything could be taken from you overnight. I stubbornly believed I was different." A troubled expression settled over the emerald eyes as his Godfather replied. Just because he was inattentive didn't mean he was insensitive.
"I didn't know. That's terrible." Harry seemed at lack of words. What could he truly say to that? He knew how irritating it was to hear constant apologies.
"Why do you ask? Anyone worth mentioning in your life?"
"Her name's Cho Chang." Another pause filled the room as Sirius clasped Harry on the back. Harry paused momentarily, then opened his mouth to ask another question.
"What's it like to kiss?" A slight blush settled over his lips. He had always been curious, but it didn't seem like a natural response to ask Ron or Hermione.
Our lips pressed against each other, dancing together like a crazed couple. The feel of them brushed up against my face elicited a moan from me, and my hands reach to wind hair between my fingers. Our tongues met until our jaws aches and we could practically map the other's mouth. Any excuse to taste, touch, even inhale the other was gladly taken. We possessed each other with the fury of the gods until the very cores of our thoughts reeked of love. Time might as well have stopped when we held each other in frantic embraces. The world might have ended and neither of us would have noticed.
"It's amazing," he simply whispered as if it were as perfect of a description as one could get. "Trust the cliché descriptions."
"Did you go any…further?" The suggestive grin plastered on the fifteen year-old's face even caused Sirius to laugh. Harry cocked an eyebrow as the snarky smirk remained.
It was only at first I could say we fucked. At first, when we couldn't look each other in the eyes, when we couldn't admit to ourselves what we were doing. When everything was a dirty secret, none of our friends new about. But something about moonlight and a concealing darkness only made everything about what we did that much more romantic. It was clichéd, but it was true; we made love.
The feel of our sweaty bodies pressed together and the electric touch of skin on skin was the most marvellous feeling I had ever found myself at a lack of words to describe. Nothing was more beautiful than seeing that face beneath me, eyes daring me to break contact and tanned skin unblemished and irresistible. The warmth that spread around my cock seemed to complete any unfulfilled wishes, and left me as if to see the pearly gates of heaven itself. We would moan gibberish phrases of proclaimed love in fits of madness, and would have attempted to explain that Orpheus and Eurydice's love was simple compared to ours.
Who truly knew now how much of it was teenage love. There was a Romeo and Juliet quality to our love that didn't bode well with me, but I still would vow on my loved one's grave – the one thing I valued beyond others – that our love wasn't just a childish creation of our overly active imaginations. We didn't recite poetry to each other or dwell upon an innocent romance. There was some unspoken quality of what happened that made me believe that we had truly loved each other.
"Sirius?" Harry paused once more before asking the question he had never considered asking before. "What's it like?" Sirius chuckled.
A hand roughly grabbed me through my boxers, and a raw noise came from the back of my throat. I allowed myself to be thrown onto the bed like a limp doll, and lay there sprawled, letting my body be moulded. Wet kisses trailed down my bare chest, and I groaned as a tongue drew intricate patterns on my skin. Hands trailed down my hips, and as I bucked them, my boxers were expertly slid off. The cold air wasn't to be endured long, as the almost unbearable warmth of a mouth soon closed around it. A hand cupped my arse as I bucked my hips again, I pulled the head away from my weeping cock, and our lips and teeth clashed in a mad fit.
There was no time or breath for hushed whispers of love. The only noises that filled the airs were the sound of flesh hitting flesh and guttural, animalistic moans. We'd work wordlessly, the silence never awkward, until with a final sharp release of breath, we'd find peace in our release. Sometimes we'd sit there in silence, and close our eyes. We'd fall asleep pressed against each other, like something out of a movie. But there never was a tear shed. We knew our futures lay on different paths than the one we wanted. Both of us were afraid to take an untaken road. But this was never mentioned. Instead, we spent moments likes these together both in an unspoken, shared bliss.
"What was it like?" Harry persisted. The same greedy look was in his eyes, and his tongue traced against his lower lip.
"If the closest you've come to any of this is wanking, then I don't think I can help explain." Sirius paused, thinking of an adequate comparison. "You have a bit of a sweet tooth, don't you?" Harry looked confused as to where this was going, but answered reluctantly.
"Think of the best dessert you've ever had. One that made your toes curl. One where you couldn't help but moan, it tasted so good." Harry looked as if he was about to drool. "Now imagine that with the dirtiest thing you can think of, and multiply that feeling by several thousands. Something like that, anyway. I was never good at describing things."
"Sounded pretty good to me." Harry grinned and nudged Sirius. As sounds of gaiety drifted up yet again, the fifteen year-old sorely distracted. He loved his Godfather, but the temptation of joining his friends downstairs won him over. "I'm going back downstairs. Promise you won't stay up here forever?"
"I'll be down soon," Sirius vowed. Harry made way to leave the room, but just as he was at the doorframe, he turned around to ask one final question.
"What was her name?"
James' lips clumsily hit somewhere between my lips and my chin. His tongue darted out and proceeded to form warm, wet trails down to my neck. I reached out to run my fingers through his raven tresses, and smiled contentedly. Neither of us knew that this would be the last time hold each other or share intimate, unspoken secrets. Maybe it was better that way, without a horrible fight tainting those memories.
"Some things are better left unsaid."