It was early morning, still cool with the promise of a lovely day
glimmering in the clear sky. The grass was still dew heavy and moist,
droplets slowly vanishing beneath the coming weight of the day. Despite
the faint chill in the air, Remus was already sweating, dark circles of
perspiration forming on his shirt beneath his arms as he grimly pulled
out a particularly stubborn weed.
He gave a mighty tug and it finally gave, toppling him back hard onto
his backside. Snorting at his own foolishness, he tossed the weed into
the growing pile in the basket next to him, dragging it along as he
moved down the row.
He could've used a spell, shriveling each weed with a tap of his wand,
or even with his limited skills in making potions, he could have brewed
up a batch of Weed-B-Gone, sprinkling it on one type of weed would kill
all of the same in a garden. He could have, but somehow he found the
mindless physical labor of gardening to be soothing.
Besides, with his luck he'd do something wrong making the potion and
end up killing half the garden by mistake.
At the moment, he was grateful for anything to keep his mind busy. He
still found himself looking up and around, scenting the air almost
unconsciously even though his sense of smell wasn't nearly as keen
while he was a human. It was a residual memory, like the phantom ache
of a lost limb; his body recalled that sometimes he could scent a
single drop of blood in the middle of a forest.
Something was going to happen, very soon. He could feel it. He only
wished he knew whether it was a good something or a bad one.
Wearily, he brushed a wisp of hair out of his eyes with the back of his
hand, grimacing as he felt dirt smear on his forehead. Wonderful.
Promising himself a shower the moment he finished, Remus redoubled his
efforts, carefully unwinding the delicate vines of a moonflower from
around a thistle weed.
He tossed the thistle aside, wincing as he accidentally pricked his
finger. Sticking his finger in his mouth, he sucked on the tiny wound
and sat back on his heels with a sigh. Couldn't he even weed a garden
properly? Inspecting his finger, he dismissed the wound, flicking his
eyes upward for just a moment and freezing at the sight in front of
him.
There was a large black dog sitting on the other side of the garden,
watching him. Remus closed his eyes for a moment, unwilling to believe
what he was seeing because he knew what it would mean. But when he
looked again the dog was still there and he nodded slowly. This was
what he had been expecting then.
"He's come back," he stated and the dog barked once, digging furiously
for a moment in the soft dirt in front of him. Remus nodded again and
climbed to his feet, groaning at the ache in his legs from kneeling for
so long. "Well, you may as well come inside then."
The dog, whom he'd known as Padfoot for years though he didn't dare
call him that now, whined and looked over his shoulder.
"Yes, I'm sure that you have places to be but it won't hurt for you to
come in for a moment." Another hesitation and the dog trotted over,
following him inside the cottage.
It wasn't luxurious by any means, but it was comfortable and had a very
extensive library besides. Remus shut the door, the dog wandering into
the sitting room while he retrieved his wand. He would have had it
while he was gardening but he didn't want to tempt himself into using
it. A flick of the wand and he had a tea tray, with a pot and two cups.
"Remus," said softly from behind him and he closed his eyes for a
moment before he turned back around. He winced before he could help
himself, looking at the man sitting where the dog had been. Sirius
Black, his robes tattered and worn, the man himself pale, thin with
shaggy black hair framing his drawn face. So different from the Sirius
Black of his memories, the one of his dreams with laughing eyes and a
mischievous grin, the man who wore black leather pants and who had
managed to enchant a motorcycle to make it fly, just because he could.
"Sirius," he greeted him quietly and an awkward silence descended of
the likes that Remus had never felt with this man, not since the first
moment he had seen Sirius and realized what he was. Perhaps what he was
no longer. There were so many things to say that Remus didn't even know
where to begin. What did you say to your old lover whom you had
believed guilty of a crime they didn't commit? What could you say?
"This is a lovely house," said Sirius finally and Remus latched onto
the mundane subject grateful.
"It's Dumbledore's. He offered to let me stay here as a long as I took
care of the house, kept the garden up." He chuckled rueful. "I try to,
anyway. I wouldn't have stayed but he wanted me close by, just in
case..." He sighed. "I knew. The moment I saw you, I knew. He's back."
"Yes," Sirius said darkly, and Remus shivered a bit to hear it. This
was why people had been able to see evil so easily in Sirius. His tone,
his eyes gave him a dangerous appearance. It was one of the things that
had drawn Remus to him to begin with...he shook away his thoughts as the
other man continued. "The bastard is still bound and determined to kill
Harry. Snatched him away from Hogwarts, right in the middle of the
Triwizard Tournament.
"What!" Remus said, shocked to his very core. "Is he...?"
"He's fine, physically. Other than that...Voldemort killed another
student in front of him. Cedric Diggory, I think it was."
Remus caught a chair with a shaking hand and sat down heavily. "My God.
Cedric? The Hufflepuff Prefect?"
Sirius was beside him in an instant. "Bloody hell, I'm sorry, Mooney. I
forgot that you'd taught there last year." He rested a hand on Remus'
shoulder and squeezed gently.
Remus reached up and took the hand in his own, held on. "No, it's all
right. I just...it was just a shock." He was trembling, he realized, but
it didn't really surprise him. It was beginning again, the horror
starting all over and it was only a question of who would be the next
person to die.
Hesitantly, Sirius leaned down and wrapped his arms around Remus. He
leaned into the offered embrace thankfully, closing his eyes. Almost
fourteen years since he'd felt this. Fourteen years that he'd been
denying how much he missed it, and that there had been times that he
would have done almost anything to feel it again. Turning his head, he
buried his face against Sirius' chest and sneezed almost immediately
from the dust.
He looked up apologetically, even as he wrinkled his nose. Dust wasn't
the only thing he could smell on Sirius' robes. "I think you should
take advantage of the shower while you're here," he said dryly and
Sirius chuckled.
"You aren't exactly spring fresh yourself, you know."
"My sense of smell is stronger than yours," he pointed out, and groaned
when Sirius grinned.
"Say that again." He was about to protest when Sirius raised his hands
in mock surrender. "All right, I know. The full moon is in a few days
and you can smell a ripe body at fifty paces. Shower."
He gave Remus' shoulder a last gentle squeeze and walked away, leaving
him alone with a pot of cold tea. Remus tapped it with his wand again
and steam poured briefly from the spout. He drank a cup absently, still
trying to comprehend this. Cedric, one of the most promising students
at Hogwarts, was dead. Harry had almost certainly come close to losing
his life as well, and for what? The whims of a madman with delusions of
grandeur.
He rubbed his temples tiredly, grimacing as he realized Sirius was
right. He did need a shower. Without really thinking about it, he set
his cup down, walked over to the bathroom and opened the door.
Steam flooded out and he could hear the water running behind the foggy
blanket. He stood in the doorway, frozen by sight and scent. Separating
him and Sirius was nothing more than a flimsy pink shower curtain. He
watched it waft slightly as Sirius moved behind it, washing himself and
humming some song that Remus didn't recognize.
Again, he was struck with that strange awkwardness. Once he wouldn't
have thought twice about climbing into the shower with Sirius. They'd
been friends, best friends, it hadn't mattered and later they had
showered together for entirely different reasons.
This time, he settled for stripping off his shirt and washing up at the
sink. He splashed his face with water, cold against his suddenly hot
cheeks. Stop it, he told himself. Now was not the time for this. His
eyes lingered briefly on the shower curtain anyway, before he forced
himself to look away.
Stepping back and turning toward the door, he nearly tripped over
Sirius' robes that the other man had apparently just let fall where
they dropped. He stooped and picked them up, holding them wonderingly.
Sirius.
Sirius was here, naked, in his shower. Remus sniffed instinctively in
the direction of the shower but all he could smell was steam and soap,
the reek of the clothes in his hands. He wondered how close he'd have
to get to Sirius to catch his scent beneath the layer of soap, if he
pulled back that curtain right now...
Backing away, still clutching the robes, Remus turned and fled. With
the door between them he felt a little more control and he looked down
wryly at the clothes still in his hands.
A full moon in a few days, indeed. He was already starting to give in
to his baser instincts.
Sirius' robes were filthy and shabby, and Remus decided he might as
well clean them while he had them. He couldn't do much about the worn
cloth but at least they wouldn't stink. Collecting his wand, he did a
simple cleaning spell, the robe folding itself neatly afterward.
Setting it on a chair, he wandered into the kitchen to see what he
could offer a surely half-starved Animagus.
Searching the refrigerator revealed a plate of cold roast beef and he
snagged that and a jar of mustard. Balancing the tray, he grabbed two
plates and a loaf of bread as well. Sandwiches would have to do.
He'd just set everything on the table when he heard Sirius clearing his
throat behind him. He glanced over and then abruptly turned and stared,
grateful that he'd already set down the tray.
Sirius was standing there in the doorway, wearing nothing more than a
towel slung low on his hips and the skin he'd been born in, his chest
still glistening with drops of moisture. His dark hair was clinging
damply to his forehead and hanging around his face. Too thin, too pale,
and far, far too tempting.
He looked somewhat abashed, cheeks faintly pink. "What? You took
my clothes. It was either the towel or prance about starkers."
Remus didn't hear a word, nor Sirius' concerned, "Are you all right?" a
moment later. Nothing penetrated over the sound of his heartbeat.
Dimly, he realized he was growling, a soft rumble in his throat and
Sirius' expression changed from concern to shock in the moment before
he struck.
In an instant, he had Sirius pressed back on the table, physically
lifting the other man on top of it, uncaring as the dishes he'd just
placed on it were pushed off to shatter on the floor. He didn't care
because his mouth was on Sirius', his tongue forcing its way into the
other man's protesting mouth.
It didn't protest for long, Sirius' hands reached up and captured his
head, pulling him down and responding to the brutal pressure of the
kiss. Remus captured his hands quickly, forcing them back to the table
and holding them down while he tasted the wet mouth beneath him. Sirius
Black, his friend, lover, who he had loved and hated and loved again, who
meant more to him, was more -real- to him than anyone else could ever
be.
He would die for him, and even more terrifying, he would kill for him,
which was why he'd fled the country after they had taken Sirius to
Azkaban. Not, as some people had whispered for a time, because he had
assisted Sirius in Lily and James' murders, but because he was afraid
of what he would do. The entire year he'd spent at Hogwarts had been an
exercise in control and fear, of locking himself in his office whenever
he changed, terrified that his animal self would have less control and
he would seek out his mate, despite what Sirius had done.
He released Sirius' wrists with a growled warning, and Sirius obeyed
wordlessly, remained utterly pliant beneath him, and he didn't help,
but he didn't protest either, allowing Remus to sweep the offending
towel away.
Too thin, ribs showing starkly in the pale expanse of skin over his
chest, and Remus sighed to see it, leaning down to nuzzle the soft,
familiar skin. He bit down on stiffened nipples, hard enough to leave
the reddened imprint of his teeth on Sirius' skin. Marking his
territory.
One could argue that he was only a werewolf three days out of the
month, when the moon was hanging full in the night sky but even now,
with the early light of morning creeping across the floor and the rich
smells of the day assaulting his senses, he couldn't escape from the
nature of the beast.
He was, in his way, a wolf, agonizingly twisted and reshaped into a
partial human mold, but still a wolf, a creature that mated for life.
And his mate, long separated from him was here, smelling of clean soap,
and faintly of sweat, and the rich earthiness that belonged only to
Sirius Black.
He wanted to say so much, how he had nearly died when he had heard that
Lily and James had died, because that could only have happened if
Sirius was dead as well. How when he had discovered the supposed truth
he had nearly died again, this time by his own hand and it only the
fact that he was a werewolf had saved him. He wanted to say how sorry
he was for doubting, how much he had missed his mate. How much he loved
him.
He wanted to say it but words seemed beyond him in this moment. All he
could do was whimper and groan, bending Sirius back on the table and
mouthing his way down the exposed line of skin to the jutting bones of
his hips. Thin, too, too thin and he pushed away the pain of that
thought, nipping his way lower until Sirius' cock bumped his chin.
Wrapping a hand around the thick shaft, he stroked quickly, earning
startled, desperate moans from his lover. He pressed his face against
the straining flesh and inhaled deeply, yes, this was the scent of his
mate, the rich salty-sweet musk of his skin.
A choked off cry came from above him and he surged upward, taking
Sirius' mouth again and biting at swollen lips. Remus unfastened his
pants quickly, kicking them aside and sliding his arms beneath Sirius'
knees. Lifting him, positioning him until his cock could press between
tight cheeks, probing for entrance.
This wasn't right, he knew, dizzily, somewhere in the sane world. No
preparation, no lubricant and it had been so long. So very, very long,
fourteen years worth, so bloody long and he pushed forward, a high,
keening wail escaping him as he took his mate again, claimed what was
his.
Hands that had been resting obediently on the table flailed upward,
catching at his shoulders and Remus forced himself to stop, shutting
his animalistic nature behind iron bars in his mind. No, you don't hurt
your mate, take them, yes, own them but don't hurt, don't, don't...
"Oh, God, Remus, don't stop," Sirius gasped out hoarsely beneath him,
fingers digging into Remus' skin as he tried to force him to move. A
nearly feral snarl and Remus slammed his hips forward, pulling a shriek
from Sirius but there was no stopping the beast this time, thrusting
hard and deep with only one coherent thought. Mine.
Mine, mine, mine, chanted, screamed in his head, though nothing but
moans and growls fell from his lips, as he took his mate brutally,
bracing his feet on the floor and pounding into the hot body of the man
beneath him, and he gloried in the broken bonds of his humanity as he
sank his teeth into Sirius' shoulder, not hard enough to break the skin
but painfully deep. The other man yelped, and then screamed, the words
that failed Remus streaming from him.
"Yes! God...oh, god yes, fuck yes, just do it...god!" He screamed again,
the sound echoed by a shrill howl from Remus as he thrust a final time
into the agonizingly tight heat of his mate's body and came, pouring
everything into him, lust, need, love...his knees folded beneath him and
he collapsed, only dimly aware of familiar arms catching him and
lowering him to the ground.
**
When he finally managed to open his eyes again, he found himself
wrapped in a blanket and lying on plush carpet. He wondered briefly,
dazedly, why he was sleeping on the floor before memory returned with
the sharpness of a blade and he felt his cheeks heat crimson with
embarrassment.
So much for not giving into animal instinct.
Carefully, still cringing inwardly, he sat up, looking for Sirius. He
didn't have to look far. The other man was sitting next to him, still
naked except for a fold of the blanket tossed carelessly across his
lap. One of his knees was drawn up, and he was resting his elbow on it,
propping up his chin as he studied Remus' reddened face.
"You passed out," he said matter-of-factly, "You've never done that before."
"Well, it's been awhile," Remus started and promptly forgot what he was
going to say as he stared at Sirius in horror. He was covered in bruises,
dark stains standing out starkly on his pale skin and one
mottled blemish outlined in the shape of his teeth on Sirius' shoulder.
"My God," he said weakly, one hand reaching out to touch before he
stopped himself. "I'm so sorry, Sirius, I didn't mean..."
He waved off the apology. "Please. Every bruise was worth it." Reaching
out, Sirius lightly brushed a finger over Remus' lip and he winced,
realizing belatedly that he hadn't come away unscathed either. Sirius'
hand shifted upward and cupped his cheek as he smiled warmly. "You were
so...distant...when I first got here, I was afraid that you'd moved on and
forgotten me."
"As if I could," said Remus unthinkingly and Sirius winced, dropping
his hand. Quickly, Remus captured it again in both of his own hands. "I
didn't mean it like that. It's not about me being a werewolf, it's..." He
sighed, closing his eyes and pulling Sirius hand back up so that he
could rest his forehead against it. "I could never 'move on', Sirius,
because no one else could ever take your place. Never." His voice
softened on the last word, and he leaned into the arms that suddenly
went around him.
They held each other for a time, silently, neither wishing to break
this moment. So much time wasted, fourteen years and Remus could have
wept for the loss. A gentle hand stroked the back of his head, soothing
him.
Finally, Sirius pulled away, looking at Remus with troubled eyes. "I
have to go, Mooney." He pressed a finger over the other man's lips and
hushed his automatic protest. Remus stared at him blankly, unable to
process what Sirius was saying to him. "I have to, I promised
Dumbledore. But I'll come back to you." He slid his hands down to Remus
shoulders and shook him slightly, snapping his daze. Remus shook his
head wildly, words failing him and Sirius shook him again, hard. "Do
you hear me?" he demanded. "I'll come back to you, Remus. I promise.
I'll come back to you. Wait for me?" he asked, pleadingly.
"I waited fourteen years," Remus barely whispered, "I can't do anything
else -but- wait for you." Sirius made a sound deep in his throat and
clutched Remus to him desperately. He just lay in the circle of Sirius
arms limply.
"I know...I know how this is for you, Remus, but I -will- come back," he
whispered fiercely. He pressed his lips against Remus' mouth, bruising
pressure that he finally responded to, desperately taking this last
taste of his mate before he would lose him again. A last tender touch,
and then Sirius was gone.
Remus curled up on the floor, eyes unfocused and glazed as he looked at
nothing. His mate was gone, again, and he was alone.
'I'll come back to you,' echoing softly in his mind, ringing with the
fierce determination that he has always known in Sirius. Pushing
himself upward, Remus dressed slowly, reluctantly, with the scent of
his lover still clinging to his skin. There was much he could be doing,
broken dishes scattered across the floor to repair, laundry to clean,
and he would do it, later.
For now, he walked out the front door and breathed in the warm scent of
the day, the heat of the sun on the back of his neck as he knelt within
the garden and began pulling weeds. And waiting.
-finis-
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