Sirius shifted his shoulder slightly to the left, allowing pork to be tonged onto his plate and trying desperately to focus on what his mother was saying.
“You’re checking in with your studies, I presume? Regulus’ professor has informed me he checks in nearly every other day.” If his mother could have a ‘fond’ look, she flashed it at Regulus then.
Sirius stabbed at his plate, nodding for a moment and looking up to Regulus, “Because he has nothing better to do.”
Regulus narrowed his eyes, “And you do?”
Sirius felt a blissful burn ignite in his chest, images of Remus’ nose scrunching, head thrown back as he pressed their bodies together filling his head. Images of him smiling, flour on his cheek and hair slightly curlier from the heat of the oven.
He smirked. Things wasn’t the right word, but he was definitely otherwise occupied.
His mother took a disapproving sip of wine, “Quiet. Regulus,” Sirius almost rolled his eyes. Regulus Regulus Regulus, “have you told your brother of your acquirement?”
Sirius stopped chewing for a moment, eyes flicking to Regulus, watching his face. His brother’s eyes remained fixed on his plate, pushing what little food he had there around. Sirius’ jaw resumed slowly, trying to relax the small knot forming in his stomach, “Acquirement?”
His mother’s smile was dripping with pride, her tongue flicking against her teeth with the need to tell every soul she could about this news, “Oh, yes. Our cousins, the Lestranges. A powerful family, not like us, of course, but they have their uses. They’ve formed a “society,” as they’re calling it. Stupid name.” The queen had pork in her teeth as she rolled her eyes, letting out a laugh, “Regulus, won’t you tell your brother?”
Sirius’ eyes moved to Regulus, wide. He knew what society meant. He knew what doing anything involving the Lestranges meant. His cousins wanted nothing but power for what they considered “pure” bloodlines. Pure nobility, pure beauty. Purity away from poverty, from lower class people they deemed peasants. They were ruthless and cruel and Sirius despised them. He didn’t wonder, then, why that had gone to Regulus instead of him, the future monarch. He didn’t make his hatred secret. Sirius waited for Regulus’ eyes to find his, but they didn’t.
“It’s a political movement.” Regulus said to his lap, “A revolution, if you will. It will keep us in power.” Only then did his eyes raise, “I am to be the representative of the Black household.”
They looked at each other for silently and, for a moment, Sirius thought he saw a younger version of the boy in front of him now, less silent, less…this. For a moment Regulus looked like he had before, when he hated Sirius’ outbreaks, hated when he argued against mother. Hated what he brought down on himself, after.
Don’t, Sirius. Please, don’t.
Then it was gone, and Regulus looked away.
Sirius put his fork down, “A revolution, huh? Is that their kind word for increasing taxes? For starving the villagers?”
“Hold your tongue.” His mother snapped at him.
Sirius grit his teeth, “They’re full of greed and nothing else. Greed for themselves-“
“And they have placed your brother at a top position.” His mother’s lip was curling, her fingertips clawing into the table. Sirius knew what it meant. He knew what he was in for. He couldn’t stop.
“They do know he’ll never be king. They’ll have nothing when I-“
“That,” The queen snarled, “Will be a very long time from now. Unless you are implying otherwise.”
Sirius felt his cheeks flush, anger burning his chest. Of course she would jump to that conclusion, of course she would want to make him seem just like them, twisted, scheming, power-hungry, “I imply nothing.”
And that was it. The last word, as usual, was hers.
Sirius sat quietly at desert, heart aching at the slice of chocolate cake in front of him. He wanted nothing more than to be down in the kitchens with Remus, alone and surrounded by the heat of him, his warmth and the comfort he offered. He couldn’t help but glance at Regulus who sat straight, answering whatever questions his mother asked him in the exact way she wanted him too. Sirius couldn’t do that, he’d never been able to do that. Even when they were young, Sirius had never stayed in his seat, he’d never held his tongue, not like Regulus. Regulus who was slowly being corrupted, fixed under the control of the family, the cruelty. And nothing Sirius could do would stop it, stop him. He’d been completely shut out by his baby brother. Just like by everyone else. Always the outcast.
He couldn’t remember when he’d started getting beaten for it, but he supposed that was why. He wasn’t the perfect son. He wasn’t the perfect king. He just… wasn’t.
He barely touched the cake, and he was glad for this, for after the table had been cleared and he’d been instructed to follow his mother into her study, he emptied the contents of his stomach out in the privacy of his bathroom, the action stinging his newly sliced cheek, and making the quickly forming bruise over his left ribs ache painfully.
He fell asleep on the cool, stone floor, bloodied and aching for the one person who couldn’t come.
James looked distressed when he came back to the kitchens, bearing Sirius’ breakfast tray, still ladened with most of the food. Remus looked at it, then looked at James.
James put up a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “Too much wine, I think. Life of the royals, yeah?”
Remus pulled the tray towards him slowly, nodding. The napkin was still folded and he made a show of picking up the silverware so James wouldn’t notice him slipping the small piece of parchment from between the folds, “Right.” He offered a smile of his own, one that didn’t reach his eyes, “Happen often?”
James’ smile wilted a bit, and he picked up an apple, leaning his back against the table. Remus could only see half of his face, “I’d say so.”
Remus picked up on… something. Something in his voice that he didn’t like. But James didn’t stay long enough for further questioning, instead picking up a rather large basket of shoes and polish. Remus could at least be glad he didn’t have to do that. He looked down at the piece of paper in his palm.
Care to finish what we started?
He sighed. It had taken half his courage to write it, the other half to send it upstairs. He felt foolish now, seeing it unread in his open palm. The other night was still with him, as vividly as it had happened hours ago. He’d catch himself thinking of it mid-work, cheeks hot, breathing heavy. It had been incredible, and it was driving him mad. It was unfinished. It was a madness he could deal with, as long as there was the promise of more, of time. Time together. But the time apart… Remus tore the note up slowly, lip between his teeth.
He was monumentally unprepared for the constant need that scraped at his chest.
“Fuck.” He breathed, pushing off the table. Sirius hadn’t gotten the note. He had no other way of contacting or communicating with him in any way unless Sirius initiated it by venturing downstairs. Then again he’d need some excuse—a good excuse—for him being there in the first place. Remus felt suspended on the end of a tether, the binds verging on too tight. Just seeing each other was a battle and he was definitely the one on the losing side. He’d have to wait it out, sit on his hands, hope for Sirius to come to him sooner rather than later.
Remus tossed the scraps and walked to the work Mrs. Potter had left him while she went to the usual Saturday morning markets, restocking on what was in season. He was to start the egg sandwiches for the Queen’s luncheon. Remus contemplated skipping the task. Let the Queen go without her tea sandwiches. See what her nobles thought of her then. Royalty was petty like that, weren’t they? Now that he knew just how much Sirius hated the queen, Remus’ own hatred only seemed to burn hotter. But he sighed, and cracked the first egg into the bowl. It wouldn’t be his head on the chopping block.
He was just turning to fetch the buttermilk when two hands caught his hips, pulling him away from the counter and firmly against a chest.
Remus didn’t even pretend to be startled this time, and just let out a much too loud laugh, feeling a similar one muffled against the skin of his throat. His chest felt like it would collapse with the sudden release of pressure, with the relief.
He placed one hand on the hand covering his opposite hip, the other still whisking the egg, “Well, hi.”
He felt a chin press to his shoulder and the hands on his hips moved to wrap tightly around his waist, as Sirius pressed their bodies closer, “Hi.”
Remus’ whisk slowed as he looked at the murky eggs, remembering, “You okay?” He tried to keep his voice light.
“Hm.” Sirius’ answer was quiet, a liar’s uncommitted sound.
“Yeah?” Remus didn’t want to push, but he couldn’t not ask either.
Sirius pressed his lips to Remus’ jaw, right at the place where it curved to meet his ear, “Better now.”
Remus nodded a little, unable to help tilting his head into the kiss, “Do you want some of this?” When Sirius didn’t answer he pushed on, “’s just you didn’t really eat your breakfast, I thought something might be wrong.”
It was light, but Remus didn’t miss the curse Sirius breathed, “Oh. Right, forgot you’d… y’know, see that. Notice.”
Remus put the fork down, twisting in Sirius’ arms, “Of course I’d notice, you didn’t get my-“
The kitchen was silent for a long moment. Remus didn’t make a move to touch and neither of them pulled away, but there was more air between them now. Misunderstanding, concern, worry. Sirius was just looking at him, eyes silently begging him not to. Not to say anything, not to notice, not to ask him. And Remus almost couldn’t. This was Sirius. This was a boy who had managed to change his life in a matter of weeks, who didn’t deserve…this. Whatever it was, whatever was happening. And then Sirius dropped his gaze, mouth turned down in a way that still said please don’t.
And Remus didn’t.
He pushed a careful hand through Sirius hair, pushing it back from the slightly swelling edge of his right eye and said, “Someday?”
Sirius looked up again and relief was there in his expression. He nodded, “Someday.”
Remus kept his hand there, just stroking gently, and Sirius closed his eyes, leaning into it. He would have stayed there forever.
Still with his eyes closed, Sirius finally spoke, “I believe I was promised a tutorial in this particular task.”
Remus grinned, “That you were.”
Sirius glanced quickly around the kitchen, “Are you expecting anyone?”
Remus was suddenly feeling very grateful for the market, “Not a soul.”
They spent the next half hour between soft quiet and laughter, Remus’ hands almost always over Sirius’ larger ones, teaching, and just wanting to touch. They were cutting the bread when Sirius finally said what Remus wanted to hear.
“What are you doing tonight?”
Remus reached up, plucking a few chives from the herbs hanging from the ceiling, “Positively nothing.”
“Not anymore.” Sirius looked up from the sandwich he was somewhat gingerly holding, meeting Remus’ eyes, “Do… Do you think you could find an excuse to come upstairs again?”
Remus tore the chives in his fingers, letting them fall atop the egg, “Yeah. Apparently your mum is dining out tonight so there won’t be much to do. The parlor again?”
Sirius looked back down to where he was carefully spreading butter on a toast, “Actually,” Remus looked up again at the hesitance in his tone. Sirius stayed as focused as one could be on toast, eyes down, “I was thinking you could come a bit more… well, up.” He took a large, nervous breath, “My chambers,” his eyes flicked up to Remus, “for instance.”
Remus held his breath. This was new, “Your room.”
Sirius nodded, “Right.” He kept his eyes on his knife, “It’s private, no one would come in. I can show you a secret passage to get there.”
Remus’ mouth quirked up, “Secret passage way?”
Sirius grinned, looking at him this time, “Yes, I know. Castle’s full of them.” Then more tentatively, eyes down again, “Will you come?”
Remus felt flushed all the way from his toes, hot all over. His skin prickled, cheeks warmed at the thought of being in Sirius’ room, Sirius’ space. The unidentified space that he’d been sending breakfast up to for months. His chest ached with the sudden want to see it, to see it with Sirius.
“Remus?” Remus looked up fro where he’d been staring at nothing, and felt his face grow hotter. He could feel the slight smile on his face. He saw Sirius’ eyes flick to it and then smile too, “Will you?”
Remus nodded, “‘Course. Of course, I will.”
Regulus’ back ached, but he didn’t dare relax.
He heard Bellatrix’s nails on the table, long scratches, before he saw her or her mother.
“Regulus. So glad you could join us.” Only then did they come into view. The same sleek black hair with dark eyes to match. Bellatrix smiled at him, all teeth, no actual smile, while her mother smiled, no teeth, no actual smile, “My sister has raised you well since we last met.”
Regulus stood and bowed to each of them, kissing his aunt’s hand. He did not smile, “It’s been too long.”
The tall stained glass windows of the Lestrange Manor let in very little light. What did make it through the dark green stains was watery and thin, casting shifting shadows on the wall. It made Regulus feel uneasy. He was never sure what was moving, and what wasn’t. There could be someone behind him, or just a trick of the light. Was his aunt’s eyes on him, or to his right, forward. The light left him in the dark. He wanted to go home.
He heard others filter in behind him, other household representatives, other members of the noble bloodlines, and he sat without a word. Bellatrix fell into the seat beside him, nashing her teeth and gripping his hand, then pouting and turning away when he didn’t flinch.
His aunt took the head of the table, remaining standing. Tarea Lestrange was a slight woman, but with eyes that radiated power. She wore black robes that made her look impossibly taller, leaner.
Regulus listened intently with lowered eyes.
All for themselves. It was all he heard. He felt the energy change in the room as his aunt rallied the houses, his eyes flickered around them room at the approving nods. Contracts were handed out, outlining plans of action, plans for the surrounding villages. Sirius had been correct. Taxes were to be raised, and laughter had not been scarce when Bellatrix mimicked a common-folk, begging for food and drink.
“And what of enforcement?” A man’s voice rang out clearly, rather high. His robes were heavy with the chains around his neck, thick and silver. He had a smile on his face, thin and curling, that told Regulus he already knew the answer to his question.
Regulus thought he knew as well.
Tarea smiled, no teeth, no smile, and, yes, Sirius had been correct,
Regulus cleared his throat softly before speaking, “Death? For taxes?”
Tarea’s smile didn’t waver, “Correct, nephew.”
Regulus’ hands tightened into fists, nervous. He shoved them under the table, “My house- The Queen will not stand for that. I don’t believe.”
His aunt’s eyes tightened, and she pressed the tips of her thin fingers to the dark wood of the table, leaning her long body forward, “Is that so?”
Regulus sat up straighter, “There are other ways to take care of it, are there not?”
Her pupils were pin points, “Yes.”
“Then no. No, the Queen would never be agreed.”
Tarea’s lips parted, ever so slightly. The smile looked like a possessive grimace, “The Queen wouldn’t? Are you sure? Or… are you talk about your future king?”
Regulus stiffened but willed himself not to look away. He felt the air change again at the mention of his brother. Sirius was notorious for speaking out against the traditional ways of the families. He was a threat, and the fear he brought turned sour and into hatred almost instantly.
“Because,” his aunt continued, “I believe there are other ways of taking care of that, as well.”
The air in Regulus’ lungs seem to still. Beside him Bellatrix let out a gasp, then a laugh. He saw others sit up strighter. They were listening now.
This was new. This was his brother. Regulus swallowed thickly, heart sinking with realization.
This was the reason he had been picked for this position.
“I’m not sure I follow.” His thanked God his voice did not shake.
Tarea’s fingers dragged against the backs of chairs as she made his way to his, coming to stand behind him. Her fingers were tight on his shoulders,
“Regulus. Wouldn’t you like to be king?”
Regulus speaks to no one as he arrives home. He sends his guards away, he leaves his dinner to fall cold. He pushes into his room, falls to his knees, and tells himself he’s doing the right thing. His words echo off his skull.
Yes. Yes, I would.
And he starts to formulate a plan.
Sirius stared at the tea cart in front of him, ladened with summer fruits, cheese and bread, wine, chocolate. Anything he could think of, he had gotten sent up. When the maid finished setting up, he had opened the door for her to leave, and ordered his guards to follow. They had smirked, glancing at one another. No doubt, images of an affair filled their minds. Sirius closed the door and grinned. They had no idea.
He’d been pacing for the last half hour, eyes never leaving the bookshelf for a moment, waiting for it to open and allow the person who he was almost positive he’d never be able to stop thinking about again to enter. At least it felt that way.
He wasn’t sure what had made him invite Remus up here. It had been a spur of the moment decision, quite possibly the result of certain unfinished business and the uncontrollable need to finish it. For completion, however, privacy was a necessity. He glanced at the bed, then at the food. It wasn’t a purely sexual motive. Since he met Remus, he had to admit that he’d developed quite a need to give Remus things. Slippers, notes, flowers, chocolate. He wanted to watch his face light up over and over, to watch that shy smile whenever he thought he might be getting over excited. He could watch Remus just be happy until the end of time and be content all the while.
He heard a muffled clump from inside the wall and halted, spinning towards the case. He watched as it creaked open slowly, and a very hesitant head poked through. The second Remus caught sight of Sirius, however, all hesitation was replaced by a grin and Remus slipped from the hidden doorway and right into Sirius’ arms, pulling him into a slightly miscalculated kiss, more laughter than lips.
“That was terrifying.” Remus breathed, lips moving against Sirius’ as he spoke, palms splayed on his cheeks, “Full of fucking spiderwebs.”
Sirius’ heart felt like it was tripping over its own beats. This room had never felt so warm before. He grinned back somewhat dazed, eyes trying to look at every bit of Remus’ face at once, “You don’t like spiders?”
Remus just shook his head, finally finding it in him to lean off his toes so they could speak at a normal distance, “Not in the slightest.”
“Well,” Sirius settled his hands comfortably on Remus’ waist, dipping his head downward to nudge their noses together briefly, “I’m glad you made it.”
Remus smiled at him, eyes hooded and soft, then let his eyes drift around the room for the first time, smile dropping and eyes widening a little.
“Jesus.” He let his arms fall, looping loosely around Sirius’ neck instead, “You really are a king.”
Sirius snorted, “Well spotted.”
Remus rolled his eyes but the smile was back, eyes still roaming over the room. Sirius let him slip out of his arms somewhat reluctantly, holding on until it was just their fingertips touching.
“Did you do this?” Remus asked, picking up a fig.
Sirius hummed in acknowledgement, leaning against a bed post and fiddling with the transparent curtain that was bunched at the corner, letting it fall over his palms. He watched Remus silently as he walked around the room in slow circles, taking a bite of the ripe fruit. He touched nearly everything. The walls, the cushions on the fainting couch by the door, the dark, smooth wood of Sirius’ wardrobe. He ran his fingertips over each and ever surface and Sirius found heat pooling in his stomach as he watched them, long and slender and gentle. His skin prickled with the need to feel them against himself.
Finally, Remus stopped, back where he started, taking the curtain out of Sirius’ hands and replacing it with his own. He laced their fingers together, using the leverage to pull them chest to chest, “It’s very nice in here.”
Sirius smiled, “I’m glad you think so.”
“You don’t?” Remus nudged their noses together.
“I think…” The truth was that Sirius had never particularly liked this room. Too many memories, too closed off. It felt impersonal, like it could belong to anyone, not just him. Then again, with how people viewed him, maybe that was the point. He raised one of their locked hands, pressing it to his mouth, “I think I like it more now that you’re in it.”
Remus smiled, then pressed up and kissed him. The pressure was soft for a few moments, just genteel presses of closed lips, before Remus let Sirius part his with his tongue, and press him against the flat edge of the bedpost. Sirius moaned into his mouth, releasing his hands only to have them press firmly to his back, trailing downwards to his arse, holding Remus against him. Remus panted softly as Sirius let his lips trail down to his throat. He tilted his head back, content and helpless against Sirius’ mouth sucking a bruise into his skin, wetting and biting and marking.
“God,” Remus tightened his hands in Sirius’ shirt, “Tell me you can stay. Tell me-”
He didn’t want to admit to himself how belittled the question made him feel. He was never the one who had to leave, probably never would be. He would always, however, be the one who had to be left. He didn’t think about how one day it would be for good.
“I can.” Sirius’ voice is breathless, and he can’t seem to be able to get close enough to Remus, “I can, I can.”
Remus let his eyes slip closed again and dragged his hands up to Sirius’ hair. He groaned when he felt cool metal touch his fingers, “Jesus, I hate this thing.”
Sirius just kissed him again, lips feeling wet and swollen from their previous work. Remus almost didn’t hear his words through the need ricocheting around his head,
“Take it off.” Sirius laughed gently against Remus’ mouth, “Throw it.”
Remus didn’t hesitate in curling his fingers around the gold and tossing it from Sirius head. He heard it fall, muffled by a thick rug. Out of sight, out of mind.
“There, it’s gone.” Sirius’ hands were back on his hips, smile blinding, backing them up until Remus fell down on the bed, Sirius crawling over top of him, “Just you and me, love.”
Remus sighed, sinking into the weight of Sirius’ hips on his, the extreme softness of the bed against his back, and tried not to let the sadness creep in with the happy. It’s good now, this is a good memory. He won’t be the one to ruin it.
“Just us.” He repeated, not intentionally out loud, softly.
Sirius shuffled until he was supported by his forearms, looking down at Remus. His fingers played with the hair that fanned out over his ears gently. His eyes were soft, and trying desperately not to look concerned, “You okay?”
Remus bit his lip for a moment, regarding Sirius carefully. His hair still held the indent from the heavy crown, the ends curling up and around where the metal use to rest. Remus reached up, running his fingers through it a few times, trying to get rid of it, make the curls wild like they’d been the day he had swam.
“I just don’t want you to leave.” To be honest, he hadn’t really meant to say that out loud either.
Remus watched Sirius’ eyes go wider, then his brows draw together: sad, pained. The bruise on his cheek puffed out more, and Remus was suddenly taken on by the urge to drag him down to the kitchen to make the pain go away. To make any pain go away, really. Sirius seemed to be having similar thoughts as he shifted his weight on one shoulder, pressing his palm to Remus’ face, fingers spanning from his cheek to jaw.
Remus cut him off before he could say anything because, truly, what was there to say? Any reassurance would be at least half a lie, “I just- I mean- What I mean is that I’m glad you can stay.”
“I don’t think I could go another period like these last few days.” Remus leaned his head up, nipping gently at Sirius’ lower lip, letting his teeth drag softly at the skin, “You very much left me hanging…”
Sirius hesitated for a moment, but then allowed himself to smile. Maybe because he didn’t know what to do otherwise, maybe he wanted Remus as much as Remus wanted him. He met Remus’ mouth just as it pulled off of his, catching his lips in one motion, pressing Remus’ chin upwards to kiss him harder. He pulled his knees up, taking the weight off his shoulders so he could touch touch touch. Remus sank back into the mattress, just wanting to be kissed until his mind shut off, until he could be in this moment only. He didn’t want to worry, he didn’t want to count down the minutes. He wanted to feel. Just what was now.
He pulled at the ties of Sirius’ shirt until they were loose and sliding down one of Sirius’ tanned shoulders. He pressed up and under the fabric, feeling the heat of his skin, the pattern of his ribs, then let his hands slide lower, tugging at his pants. Sirius let out a hiss, pulling back just enough to tug his shirt over his head and to undo his pants. The sight was glorious. Sirius looked like…summer. Remus let all the breath out of his lungs, pulling himself into a sitting position just to be closer, to push his hands against Sirius’ skin, to kiss the collar bones that strained outward. He felt Sirius’ hand wind through the hair at the back of his head, holding him there gently.
“C’mere,” Remus sighed, pushing at Sirius’ chest until he rolled onto his back, letting out a delighted laugh and making Remus smile as he straddled him, “Fuck, you’re gorgeous. You’re gorgeous, come here…” He pressed his lips to the planes of Sirius’ chest, dragging them along the soft dips and valleys of it, memorizing, committing it to memory, trying to.
“‘m here.” Remus glanced up through his lashes at Sirius, seeing that his eyes were closed, brows drawn together in pleasure, “‘m right here…”
Remus squeezed his eyes shut too, nuzzling into Sirius’ neck.
Now now now.
Remus found the loose band of Sirius’ pants and pulled, pushing back on his heels, letting Sirius lift his hips to remove the fabric. He watched Sirius’ breathing increase, his chest rise and fall.
Remus let out a long breath, letting his forehead fall against Sirius’ hip, breathing in his musky scent, pressing slow kisses to the soft skin there before nuzzling closer to Sirius’ swollen member, “Sirius…”
“Yes.” Sirius breathed, “Yes, yes…” He opened his eyes, grey and blue and pupils blown, and looked down. He reached one arm out, reaching for Remus. Remus shifted his wait, meeting Sirius’ outstretched palm and laced their fingers.
Remus’ chest ached at the soft smile that crossed Sirius’ face as he let his head fall back onto the pillows, breath shaking. Remus wanted to see that smile again, but he wanted to see other things too. Maybe more. He wanted to see Sirius’ eyes squeeze shut, his lips part his fists clench. He wanted Sirius nails to dig into to his palm, as they did now but harder. Remus moved his attention to Sirius’ cock, heavy against his belly. He tentatively wrapped his unoccupied hand around it, heat jolting to his own groin at the soft moan Sirius breathed. He gave an experimental stroke, hooded eyes focusing on the pink tip that slipped in and out of sight. His cock tented tighter in his trousers at the sight, and he shifted against the mattress in a only half conscious effort to gain some friction. He let his hand build a steady, slow pace, feeling Sirius’ hand tighten in his own.
Remus’ eyes flashed up at the nickname, lip pulling between his teeth and he tightened his hand, swiping his thumb over the top and gathering the clear liquid there. Sirius groaned at the new slickness of the pull, hips bucking upwards. Remus caught them with his mouth, licking a long stripe up the underside of Sirius’ member. He wasn’t sure what had made him do it, he had only suddenly wanted to taste. He felt the vain against his tongue pulse, and realize with a jolt that it was Sirius’ heart beating in time with the aching cock. Remus closed his eyes, cock wetting just at the thought. He licked again, rutting against the bed in time with his strokes, letting out breathy moans that he could barely hear. Sirius’ smell, the weight of him in his hand, the noises he was making, it was too much. Remus desperately rolled his hips into the quilt, trying to ignore how rough the fabric of his pants was.
“Fuck- Re, wait- wait…”
Remus’ eyes flashed open instantly, mouth freezing but lips staying obscenely parted. He didn’t want to stop.
It seemed to take much more effort than normal for Sirius to sit up, and he was breathing hard, his cheeks flushed. He reached both his arms out, and pulling Remus towards him, “S’okay, s’perfect,” He pressed a long kiss to Remus’ mouth, moaning, “God, you’re perfect, I just wanna- here.” Both boys seemed nearly too tired to move, limbs heavy with arousal, but with not too much difficulty, Sirius helped Remus out of his shirt and pants, kissing him again at the moan Remus let out when his cock bobbed free, “There we go,” Sirius whispered, “Now put your legs like this, straddle my- ah, god, yeah- my thigh. Like that. Jesus,” Sirius leaned forward for another messy kiss, “You’re so hot against me. Feels so good.”
Remus was vaguely aware of Sirius leaning back again, waiting, but he took a moment, mouth open and panting at the feeling of his cock against the silky skin of Sirius’ thigh. It looked a deep purple against Sirius’ tan skin. He gave a few experimental ruts and nearly saw stars. Never had he been in contact with someone like this, never had he been so overwhelmed with something so good. He wanted to be filled with it, he wanted it to surround him. He stretched out his body again, reaching until he got his hand around Sirius’ cock, his mouth over the head, needing. They moaned at the same time, Sirius at the wet heat over him, Remus at the fact that he was now pressed tightly against something, slick with his own pre-come. Remus swirled his tongue and sucked, breathing through his nose. His hand reached what he could not and he felt Sirius take his other again, squeezing tightly. Remus jerked his hips forward with each bob of his head, increasing the tempo as his muscles coiled. He moaned without thinking, around Sirius’ cock, and only felt himself get harder at the way Sirius’ back arched into his lips, the way his jaw clenched through his curses.
“Fuck, fuck, Re, come here. Up here. I need-“ Sirius’ voice was lowered an octave, and Remus found he could only pull of with a lazy, reluctant pop, and look at Sirius with hooded eyes. Every nerve was buzzing, every second felt like it might be the last before he reached the edge. His cock didn’t bob when he pulled himself up onto all fours and crawled up Sirius’ body, but stood straight out, rock-hard, and dripping along Sirius’ stomach. Sirius stared at it, lips swollen and panting, before pushing his hands down onto Remus’ arse and pushing their cocks together, perfectly alined, “I need to feel all of you, fuck-“
Remus didn’t know what noise he made, but the next thing he knew there were tears at the edge of his eyes and he was rutting shamelessly against Sirius, hips thrusting forward in jerky, uneven motions. The slight sting of Sirius’ nails digging into his back only pushed him farther towards the edge, “Sirius-“ He finally formed, eyes squeezed so hard shut that he saw shapes, colors. He pressed his face against Sirius’ sweat-slicked neck, breathing him in, biting, hand clenched over his shoulder for leverage, “God. God, please, please-“
“Yes,” Sirius gasped, “Yes, I’ve got you. Go on.” Sirius held them tightly together, pushing his hips up in time with Remus, “Go on, love, ‘m right behind you-“ Sirius’ voice pitched upward at the end of his sentence and then he was shouting Remus’ name. Remus’ eyes flew open, mouth forming a tight ‘o’ as he felt the slick, white, heat spurt between them. It was the last straw of his own resolve and he followed with a shout muffled against Sirius’ skin. He was gasping into Sirius, unable to still his hips, twitching and rubbing their sensitive cocks together.
They lay there silently for a moment, breathing against each other, feeling the other’s chests rise and fall. Remus blinked slowly, cheek pressed to Sirius’ heated skin, and smiled tiredly, barely a lift of the lips, but a smile nonetheless.
Now. Right now I am happy.
Because he’s here. Sirius is here, and he’s not leaving until hours and hours from now. Until the sun comes up. They have time and time and time and time. Remus lets his eyes fall closed momentarily at the feeling of Sirius’ fingers through the sweaty hair against his forehead, his hand on his bare hip, thumb rubbing circles.
“You called me ‘love.’” Remus says, tongue feeling thick, body feeling thoroughly sated.
He felt the chuckle in Sirius’ chest, pressing his cheek harder to the skin, trying to memorize the feeling. A kiss was dropped to his temple, “I did. Isn’t that what you are?” He felt a shift that signaled Sirius wanted him to sit up, to look at him. He pulled his head up, chest against chest, nose to nose. Sirius pressed a kiss to his cheek, “My lover.” The other cheek, “My love.”
Remus’ heart picked up to the point where he could feel it in his fingertips. He suddenly felt afraid, like his life depended on the answer to the next question he asked, “I… I don’t know. Is that what I am?” Then softer, “Your love.”
Sirius’ eyes were soft, and he tilted his head, lips pressing together in a smile that said of course, of course that’s what you are. The weight was gone from Remus’ chest before he even spoke the words, before Sirius even kissed him again,
my tattoo artist follows my art instagram, and i post a lot of emo stuff and follow a lot of emo related accounts (gerard, frank, other bands, etc). he was talking to me and he’s like “every once and awhile on my explore page on instagram is just like some random picture of gerard way lurking like DONT FORGET YOURE FOLLOWING AMBER” i was DYINGGGG im like oh my god,, my impact
Okay, the less important part: This isn’t the right time but dAMN THOSE ABS
and now the most important part: CAN SOMEONE JUST GO AND PICK HIM UP PLEASE I DON’T EVEN CARE IF THEY APPEAR FROM NOWHERE AND IT DOESN’T MAKE ANY SENSE I JUST WANT SOMEONE TRUSTWORTHY TO TAKE MY CHILD SOMEWHERE SAFE PLEASE THANK YOU IN ADVANCE
how are you gonna want a spn/ag crossover……just so dean can specifically kill bilquis…..saying all this ‘she’s a perfect skeevy motw’ bullshit. no, not wednesday, or sweeny, or czernbog, or any of the new gods or the fucking zombie wife. nah! zero in on bilquis.
Ethan is talking to Sarah over the phone in his room about Benny when suddenly the door slams open with enough force to bang against the wall and a voice shouts “DID SOMEBODY SAY BENNY WEIR?!” as Benny enters with a mouthful of Doublestuf Oreos and a beaten up spellbook
Ethan then shrieks at the top of his lungs and instinctively throws the nearest thing to him which just so happens to be his phone and it smacks Benny in the center of his forehead, successfully knocking him off his feet
All Sarah can hear on the other line for the next five minutes is Ethan crying and Benny cursing at him in Latin as she sits there utterly confused
“i don’t have the tears to cry anymore. but…i at least have to keep yu safe” // “i promise you, mika. even if i have to sell out the whole world to do it, i’ll make sure you’re turned back into a human.”
We’re always trying to outdo ourselves, trying to do better, trying to write better songs. I think we want to inspire other people as well, so that’s what we’ll try to do through future songs. —Joshua William Dun
every new interaction in these stolen century episodes makes the fact that lucretia had to make them forget all that more and more heavy, but the thing that is really painful this time around is when you remember that merle highchurch, the man who communed with the hunger itself, is insecure about his place on the team