So I don't know if you'll take a request but if you do can you please do: (Slythein!Sirius au) (Wolfstar) Sirius finds out about Remus' "furry little problem" and helps him out (against Remus' will) after an especially bad full moon, pls? 💛
The first thing Remus is aware of when he wakes up is pain.
He’s all too familiar with it - the lines of fire snaking up and down his body, following the patterns of muscle and bone. There’s the sharp tear of flesh from claws and the deeper ache of broken bones. The stars swim above him, the sky just barely lightening above him.
He’s on his back, the cold stone of the Shrieking Shack. He can just barely make out the dim shine of the constellations through the slim cracks in the roof. Sometimes, when the pain got especially bad, he would find a star, would stare at it for as long as possible as he transformed, would burn it into the darkness behind his eyelids and imagine he was flying.
A sharp burning pain suddenly flares across his body, near the bottom of his ribs. Remus swears and jerks back, swallowing down the broken noise he makes.
The first thing he hears is his breathing, sharp and jagged and pained. The second is a hissed, “Oh fuck,” and Remus drags his gaze up.
Sirius is all emerald silk and black hair and grey eyes, his robes rolled up to his forearms and the onyx ring glinting on his fingers. His hand is splayed against the mess on Remus’ ribs, shockingly pale against all the blood and dirt.
“No,” Remus says violently, and immediately flings himself back. He hits the wall of the shack with a violent thud, pain screaming through his body as he tried and failed to get away from Sirius, Sirius, who was covered in Remus’ blood and was staring at him with those cold grey eyes. “No. Get - go away - “
The rattle of chains around his ankles makes him jerk back. Sirius’ eyes cut to it; silver chains, bolted into the cold floor, the burned flesh and the tiny spikes. His face goes white. “Oh God.”
“Get out,” Remus hisses - his voice barely sounds human anymore, something low and guttural and completely animalistic. “How the fuck - “
“I heard screaming,” Sirius says. He’s still oddly, awfully pale, his eyes darting from the scars to the chains to the blood. “Last night. I tried to - “
Terror floods Remus’ veins. “Did you get in?”
“No.” Sirius swallows, then meets his gaze. Remus isn’t sure exactly what he expected to see in those eyes - fear, definitely, mixed with rage or disgust. But Sirius’ eyes were steady, the lonely light of a distant star, somehow impossibly old and vulnerably new all at the same time. “I only came in the morning. After you had...”
“Fuck,” Remus says bitterly, and throws his head back against the wall. Sirius kneels beside him, his face hesitant - there’s blood all over his shirt and soaked into the knees of his pants, his hands stained and his tie splattered. Remus stares at it for a moment - emerald green, the same colour as the lake on a sunny day.
Sirius stares at his hands, then at the wounds on Remus’ front. “Does anyone know?”
Remus shakes his head. “Why would I tell anyone? We both know the best a werewolf can hope for is one of the Camps.”
“That’s not - “ Sirius starts, but Remus cuts him off.
“Don’t. Don’t give me that bullshit, okay? You’re a fucking pureblood. You have no idea what the world is like. It’s not fair. Not for things like me.”
Sirius face closes off. Remus can almost see it; the walls slamming down, the barest hint of a smirk, the slight tilt of his head, the way his eyes went cold. It’s the same expression Remus always sees, the same unmoving arrogance that all Slytherins wore. He swallows, then stands up, his arm braced against the splintering wood.
Remus stares at him, soaked in blood and coated in dust, his hair half pulled up in a messy bun as his dark eyes unreadable. For a moment he feels something flicker in his stomach, something deeper than the cuts and the tears, deeper than even the blood slowly oozing out. He opens his mouth - to say what he doesn’t know - but Sirius shakes his head.
“I’m sorry,” he says, then flicks his wand. It feels like cool water being poured over Remus’ body, the pain ebbing and the blood stopping. “I should have done that right at the beginning.”
Remus just bites his lip, hard enough to taste blood. “Thank you.”
Sirius shrugs. “It’ll scar. I never figured out how to get rid of those.”
“What do I care?” Remus says, almost listlessly. “Not like anyone would ever want me.”
“That’s not true,” Sirius says, so softly that Remus almost doesn’t catch him. He blinks, staring up at Sirius, all blood and dust and starlight.
Sirius goes white. “God,” he chokes. “I didn’t - “
He’s gone before Remus can finish the sentence.
