Title: Days of You and Me
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters & Pairings: Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, James Potter, Remus/Sirius
Rating & Warnings: PG-13, some non-explicit sexual content
Word Count: ~ 2500
Prompt: "Future Days" by Pearl Jam
Summary: "What do you want from me, Sirius?" Idiotic thing to say. Sirius wants an explanation; he needs answers to questions that he didn’t even know existed half an hour ago. Remus can only hope this isn't the end.
Notes: Written for the 2014 black_circle_dj.
Thank you gilpin25 for the great beta job ♥
The front door crashes open with a heavy thud and a man walks into the room. He’s muttering something, his eyes are livid, and his speed makes a few pages of the Daily Prophet flap lazily as he passes by.
He’s heading straight for the bathroom, shuts the door behind him before thoroughly locking it. Silence fills the room once more.
Only a few seconds pass before the front door again finds itself being flung open. Another man enters, his movements are equally as hurried. His eyes roam quickly round the room, stopping at the closed bathroom door. The man inhales; deeply, shakily.
Silence is the only answer the man gets, and he can’t decide if he’s more annoyed or more scared as he walks across the room and tries in vain to open the door. He knocks, then forcibly stops himself before he starts rattling the doorknob.
”Sirius! I know you’re in there. Talk to me. Please.”
There’s still no answer. Remus knows beyond any doubt that the time has come for him to do the talking. Sirius has always been the chatty one. He’s never needed much encouragement to supply most of the conversation and is rarely one to let propriety or rules or common sense stop his thoughts from turning into words. But now that is no longer the case.
”What do you want from me, Sirius?”
Idiotic thing to say. Sirius wants an explanation; he needs answers to questions that he didn’t even know existed half an hour ago.
”Do you want me to say I’m sorry? I am, I really am.” Oh yes, he really is, more sorry than he’s ever been about anything, but it doesn’t do much good now. ”I’ll do whatever it takes, Sirius, tell you whatever you need to know!" How needy and desperate he sounds, but needy and desperate is how he feels, so he probably shouldn’t be terribly surprised.
”I’ll just start at the beginning, shall I? Tell you how it all felt for me.”
Remus swallows a sigh and knows he’d find it much easier to tell Sirius’ story than his own; Sirius with the big mouth and grand gestures and no hesitations in sharing his own moments of doubt and decision with Remus. Never blaming him for not being as open in return.
”Did you know, Sirius, that the first time I met you, I wanted to sit in the darkness and watch you. I didn’t want to think about myself, or of how to present myself to you; I only wanted to watch and admire and long.”
It had been one of those days that never let the light in, but remained a grey, shapeless mass of time moving slowly towards evening. The seminar was about to reach a new low, and whose brilliant idea was it anyway to make “Recent Discoveries in Advanced Potions Brewing” mandatory for all job applicants at the Ministry, no matter how trivial a job one might stoop to apply for.
“Godric’s bollocks, I’m dying of boredom,” someone said behind Remus, “and to top it all, good old Snape is the next to give his talk,” another voice answered. “Doesn’t look like we’re the only ones in misery,” the first voice whispered, nudging Remus, and the second voice answered “let’s all get out of here.” A few minutes later Remus found himself in a stall at the Leaky Cauldron with two black-haired men who might have been brothers if not for the fact that they didn’t look anything like each other. One had glasses and gangly limbs and a contagious laugh, the other had a ponytail and long fingers and a tiny freckle at one side of his throat.
Potter and Black talked and laughed and displayed an easy friendship of the kind Remus had only heard of before; he certainly hadn’t seen anything like it at Durmstrang. He was so jealous he could scream, but they included him, they wanted to get to know him, they laughed with him, and he was so happy he could weep.
“I fell so hard for you that night. Did you know that, Sirius?”
Still no answer, not even a tiny sound from behind the mocking bathroom door to indicate someone’s in there, someone who might be listening. And of course Sirius locked himself up in the bathroom – undoubtedly so he can stand in front of the mirror, rehearsing the most becoming pout to wear when he eventually does come out, or the most adorable smile if he forgives Remus. Or the deadliest glare, perfected by centuries of Blacks, designed solely to make their prey shrink and disappear, should Sirius decide to say goodbye. That this he can’t live with.
Remus has been pacing back and forth while talking; now he leans against the bare wall, slowly sliding down onto the worn carpet which even the strongest Scourgify has failed to erase of Firewhiskey stains. And it hits him, like a colourful explosion of hope – Sirius has locked himself up in Remus’ bathroom. He could easily have Apparated straight to his own flat, but he’s here, and Remus can vaguely hear the sounds of tiny movements. Sirius is staying put, that has to mean something, doesn’t it?
“I fell for you, and it scared the shit out of me. I’m not allowed to fall for anyone, I’ve always known that, but I convinced myself we were just two blokes having fun, and who am I to turn down spectacular sex? My rules and my head insisted this could never be a relationship. My habits and my heart told me it already was.”
But even though he didn’t acknowledge what they were to each other, deep down Remus had known the truth ever since Sirius pushed his way through carefully constructed borders with his enormous grin and his way too loud “Hello!”
In the end it was the very thing Remus believed to be safe territory that made him admit how much trouble he’d landed himself in. Sex.
“Ironic, isn’t it, Sirius?”
The first time they’d slept together it was fast and rough and everything Remus wanted it to be so he could pretend it meant nothing. Next time was slower, softer and way more dangerous.
They were in Sirius’ luscious bed, holding each other like someone on the verge of falling. “You’re gorgeous,” Sirius said, looking at him with big eyes full of lust and adoration. “Have me, Remus, have all of me,” and Remus didn’t need asking twice. He was filled with an unknown confidence, knowing what they both wanted and how to get there. His always self-assured lover surrendered completely, and he had six feet of lithe, sweaty male writhing and moaning in sweet agony. “Please, Remus, I.... I need... now.” He’d reduced Sirius-non-stop-talking-Black to muttering one-syllable nonsense. Remus clearly remembers the feeling of power it gave him, the rush of uninvited feelings, how Sirius’ wide open eyes and squirming body undid Remus; giving the compliant man way more power over Remus than the other way around.
“Did you know that, Sirius?”
So Remus stayed, knowing that with every movement, every thrust into this man, he dived deeper into something he should – must – avoid.
Remus shakes his head, lets out a soft laugh. “But you know what, Sirius, as glorious as that was, that wasn’t it. Not really. I’ve spent far too many cold winter nights at Durmstrang to be completely oblivious of what another body against mine can do. Durmstrang isn’t a place where they light up a fire just for the fun of it, and skin against skin under a joint duvet is an efficient method when it’s practically colder inside than outside. Even a werewolf has to stay warm.”
He plucks at a loose thread on his t-shirt and lifts his head to look at the bathroom door, willing the man behind it to speak. At least there’s been no crack of Apparition; Sirius stays, one can only presume to listen, and Remus talks. He can’t remember the last time he’s talked this much. His throat feels dry, but the words he chooses now can mean the difference between having future days of love, and losing this beautiful man. So he keeps talking. (Also to take his mind off the more prosaic side of Sirius choosing the bathroom as his hide-away. If this goes on much longer, he’ll soon have to use the sink.)
“None of that fumbling in the dark came close to being with you, but what told me I was truly done for, wasn’t that. Not even when I at long last added kissing to the sex, oh I know I hurt you, confused you, when I didn’t kiss you, but I couldn’t, not until I couldn’t not kiss you. But even then I held back. Then we brought laughter into the equation. Do you remember that, Sirius? That’s when I knew I was doomed.”
Sirius had smiled that brilliantly carefree smile of his as he gave Remus the small package. “For me?” Remus asked, genuinely surprised. “For us,” Sirius answered, and for the first time there was something bashful in his eyes. It soon disappeared as they hurried to the bedroom for a practical demonstration of the present.
“Are you certain about this?” Remus’ voice trembled slightly as he put the handcuffs around Sirius’ wrists, attaching him to the headboard. “Absolutely,” came the immediate answer. He didn’t know which feeling was the strongest – heavy arousal or being so touched that Sirius trusted him this much.
Only things didn’t quite work out the way they’d thought. They kissed, hungry and wet, diving into each other’s mouths. It felt strange not to have Sirius’ arms around him, strange in a good way, until...
“Er, Remus? Could you scratch my shoulder for me? No, not there, a little further up, oh yes, there! Sorry... where were we?”
Another long kiss soon brought them back, and Remus wanted this man, needed him; if he could just – “move over a bit, yeah?” – and Sirius made a valiant effort that ended in a low “oww!” and then “I just need to... um... could you get me that pillow, yeah, put it there, let’s get this going, shall we?”
And so it went on. For every interruption, the mood changed, and soon they were laughing wildly at their pitiful display of semi-kinky sex. They laughed until they screamed, happy tears rolling down their cheeks. Oh, they could get into this handcuff-thing, of that Remus had no doubt, but right then, right there, laughter was the biggest turn-on he could imagine, because it was so much more than a simple turn-on. It was companionship. Togetherness. Maybe even love – the scariest concept of them all.
Remus knew he was deluding Sirius. The height of the fall when Sirius did find out just who he’d given himself to, kept on growing. Staying in this relationship meant risking pain quite unlike the one he endured every month.
But it also meant early mornings waking up next to this one-of-a-kind man with his stupidly cheery morning smile; a man who showed him a side of life he’d only heard of before. Having Sirius, even accompanied by constant fear and self-loathing and harsh speeches about what a bloody coward he was, still beat not having Sirius at all. He’d had a taste of real happiness, and he needed more. He needed to stay in the dream just a little longer.
“I’m so sorry, Sirius.”
And of course it had been just that. A dream. At one point, they both had to wake up. Remus could only hope that when Sirius looked back at the dream, he wouldn’t dismiss it all as a nightmare.
The moment the two of them had met up with James at the Leaky earlier this evening, Remus saw what’d happened. The way James wouldn’t meet his eyes. How he looked at Sirius with something painfully close to pity shining through. His uncharacteristic silence before heaving a deep breath.
Remus watched, transfixed, not able to move or to say anything. He watched as James leaned in, saying something to Sirius; everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The blood pounding in his ears prevented Remus from hearing what was said – which words James chose when destroying the best thing that had ever happened to Remus. And the only person he could blame, was himself.
Sirius turned and fixed his eyes on him. When he finally spoke, it was nothing more than a whisper.
“You’re a werewolf?” His eyes made the true meaning so very clear.
You’ve lied to me. What else have you lied about? I cannot trust you.
Two seconds later Sirius ran out. Remus began running after ten.
The floor is getting hard against his arse. Distractedly he drags a hand through his hair. He’s far too used to pushing down his sorrows to come remotely close to crying. Instead he gets up from the floor, rolling his shoulders a few times.
“So how did James find out?” he asks. “Did he get suspicious about my vague answers about why I went to Durmstrang? Did he check at the Ministry? I suppose it doesn’t matter. But if you still want to know – my father and the Headmaster at Durmstrang go way back and they struck a deal. Maybe if I’d gone to Hogwarts, we’d have...” He can’t say it, pushes the thoughts out of his head.
“Nothing much to be done about that. I’m honestly more concerned about the future, Sirius.” How he hates his own voice now, so thin and shaky and stupid. “I can’t imagine my future without you. Or actually I can, but I don’t want to.”
Is he really saying this?
“I want to grow old with you. I want us to be together for so long that we finish each other’s sentences and are sometimes a bit bored with each other and have routine sex every Wednesday and Saturday. I want to wake up knowing that if I move my leg just a little, it’ll find yours, and my foot will caress yours, and we’ll both know that it means I love you.”
He stops talking. And now he can hear it. Someone is shuffling around in the bathroom, getting ready to come out from the sound of it. Calm down, silly heart, calm down.
There’s no doubt in his mind that the moment Sirius steps out, Remus will know. Not one for hiding his thoughts very well, his Sirius. Or maybe not his Sirius.
Whatever happens, he’ll have to locate the strength to bear it.
Any second now.