There were few times Sirius wasn’t attached to James. Mostly it was because the latter was playing Quidditch (or was trying to win the hand of a certain unnamed Evans), and Peter was usually with the both of them. It never gave Sirius and Remus much time alone, but neither of them ever minded. They were a family before anything else, and neither could ever hope to be apart from the others.
That said, since their relationship had changed, they had managed to spend more time alone than ever before. They hadn’t told anyone about the shift yet (it was too early, and Merlin, what if it changed the Marauders?!), but James and Peter seemed to find other things to do far more often these days.
Truthfully, it had hurt Sirius’ feelings at first, but now… Well, now he was almost positive James and Peter knew. Or, at least, James did. Still, it was too early to verbalise what Moony and Padfoot were now to each other, and the change merely became a loud, unspoken secret.
Nothing to worry or talk about; it simply was.
Which is why, when the Full Moon had fallen just after term had ended, James and Peter had gone home, leaving Sirius and Remus alone for a few days. Just enough for the Moon and the subsequent recovery, and they’d join their families (being the Lupin’s and the Potter’s, of course) shortly afterward.
It was the very first time Sirius and Remus had the dorm completely to themselves. While others might be excited at the prospect, it had truly terrified Sirius. Despite what others might think, he was inexperienced in more sexual matters. The idea of doing anything like that was scary, but with Remus?
What if he did it wrong? Or made weird, ugly faces? What if he wasn’t equipped enough? Would Remus laugh? Or pull that face, the one he always pulled when Sirius said something stupid and embarrassed himself?
What if he was bad at it or hurt him or—
What if he hurt Remus?
Or worse–what if Remus hurt him, and put an end to everything entirely? Sirius was pretty sure he could live without sex (he had so far), but he couldn’t live without Remus. If Remus hurt him, even a little, he’d put an end to everything forever. He mightn’t ever see him again.
Needless to say, Sirius had been terrified.
The first few days had been fine, though Sirius felt guilty for thinking it. The Moon had taken its toll on Remus, making him weak and sickly and forcing him to retreat to a warm blanket. As awful as it was, Sirius did enjoy these times somewhat. It was the only time Remus would let himself be spoiled, and there was something so very endearing about seeing a pale hand dart out from beneath a mess of blankets, flop around on the mattress as it searched for whatever it was Remus was looking for (chocolate, mostly), before quickly retreating.
It was something Sirius knew he’d never forget or grow tired of.
The Moon came and went, leaving Remus more battered than he usually was. Without Prongs and Wormtail, they hadn’t dared leave the shack. Though Padfoot had kept Moony occupied for a time, he’d grown frustrated with the lack of freedom and injured himself greatly. It was all Sirius could do to not turn back immediately to try and heal him.
Once the Moon had set and Remus had returned, Sirius had shifted back immediately and tried to tend to the worst of the injuries. There’d been too much blood, too many breaks, and while Remus was nowhere close to death, he wasn’t exactly close to life, either.
The forty-three minutes it took before Madam Pomfrey arrived might have been the longest Sirius had ever experienced, and it hurt his very soul to stay away from Remus whilst she tended to him.
But he had to stay away; if he were found in the Shack, the jig would be up and he’d never be able to run with Moony again.
The next few days were spent in the hospital wing. While Sirius had been told to go home, he’d decided to ‘do as the Muggles do’ and stage a sit-in and hunger strike. Luckily he’d had a rather large breakfast in preparation, but it had all been for nought. The staff acquiesced after exactly two and a half minutes of Sirius singing anti-war songs (something Remus might have tried to throw a pillow at him for), and he’d had his mid-morning snack shortly afterward.
When Remus was finally released, it was early evening. They’d go their separate ways the next day, which gave them one night together.
Alone.
And relatively healthy.
It was terrifying.
Sirius had been standing by the bed when Remus limped in, nervously playing with the ends of his hair and trying his hardest to look casual. A thousand scenarios played through his mind, and while he felt as though he’d be ready if Remus were ready, it was all so… awkward.
So when Remus flopped onto the bed in what could have been an expectant and suggestive way, Sirius did the first thing he could think to do:
He took his shirt off and threw it at Remus’ face.
And got nothing but a strained noise in return as Remus burrowed his face further into the pillow.
Now, Sirius was sure he’d heard about this–pillow biting, that is–but from what he’d heard, there was meant to be more movement when it happened. He doubted very much that Remus was doing it out of ecstasy, which meant Remus must have been doing it for some less wonderful reason.
“Moony?”
“Hrrrrggg…”
“…”
“…”
“Remus, I’m naked.”
“Arrhrhhdhhhrhffdd.”
“Only a bit, but I don’t see why it doesn’t count.”
“…”
“…”
Hesitantly, Sirius walked over to the bed and sat beside Remus. His hands felt strange, as though his fingers were suddenly far too large, and his heart accelerated. After a moment of intense internal debate, he carefully laid a hand in the space between Remus’ shoulders and felt an incredible amount of relief once he saw Remus relax into the touch.
So, he wasn’t repulsive then. That was a start.
“We don’t… have to, you know. I just thought–”
“Mmhhdhgh.”
“Didn’t catch that.”
With a sigh large enough to set sail to an armada, Remus rolled onto his side and looked up at Sirius with wide eyes. A faint pink dusted his pale skin, growing darker the longer he stared. Suddenly, Sirius wished he’d never taken his shirt off.
“I can–I’m sorry, I just–” He reached for his shirt only to be stopped by one of Remus’ hands on his wrist. While the grip was loose and shaky, it made Sirius stop dead, his eyes falling to the bed in embarrassment.
Already he was awful at this.
“‘S not you.” Remus mumbled, and while Sirius couldn’t see him, he was almost positive he wasn’t the only one looking at the bed. “Sorry.”
“Sorry? You didn’t do anything! I’m the one just… just stripping, and assuming, and–Merlin, Moony! I… I only, you know, because I thought, but we don’t have to-to, you know, we don’t! We don’t ever!”
“…”
Oh, wonderful. Now Remus thought he didn’t want to, which wasn’t the case at all. There was just a lot to consider, and Sirius was nervous, and Remus probably knew all about this stuff from his books and just because it’s Remus and Remus just knows things.
He looked up, determined to explain, but once he saw Remus’ face–his expression–Sirius realised what the problem was. It was obvious, or should have been so close to the Moon, and he felt stupid for not realising it immediately.
“Show me.”
Remus looked up at Sirius with an expression of panic, a thousand excuses tumbling out his mouth all at once. They’d known each other long enough now for Sirius to know the difference between Remus-not-wanting-to and Remus-wanting-to-but-there’s-the-whole-werewolf-thing, so he frowned his usual who-cares-if-you’re-a-werewolf-you-idiot frown in return.
“Please?” His hand moved to the hem of Remus’ shirt and tugged at the hem, causing the grip Remus had on his wrist to tighten. “We don’t have to do anything, I just… I want to see. Please?”
There was no verbal answer, but Sirius knew Remus was considering it. They’d seen each other nude before, and this was just a shirt. Maybe it was different now, but… it was just a shirt.
Remus’ throat bobbed, and a moment of scrunched eyes and deep breaths later, his shirt came off.
Sirius only managed to catch a glimpse of the newly mangled arms and horribly scarred stomach before Remus folded in on himself, his knees pressed to his chest as he tried to shrink himself as much as possible.
While Sirius had been prepared for scarring (and had seen some before), the sheer amount almost took his breath away. He didn’t find it ugly, and he didn’t feel any differently for Remus, but a horrible pang of agony rocked through his core. Each scar was heavy and thick, sliced painfully through Remus’ otherwise soft skin. Each mark was a reminder of what Remus was once a month, and they’d never be healed.
Worse still, each scar was a howl of pain Sirius couldn’t stand to hear. Another limp, another wince, another nightmare.
Merlin, how he wished he could take the pain away forever. How cruel it was to not only be in agony, but to have permanent reminders? To never be healed? It wasn’t fair, no matter how you looked at it.
“S-Sorry, it–”
“Don’t.” Sirius snapped, earning himself a wince from Remus for his quick temper. “No–Remus, it’s–don’t apologise. You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“…”
“I want to see, if you’ll let me look.”
The room was silent as Remus debated, but he finally nodded and stretched himself out. His shoulders were still hunched, but it was a start, Sirius thought.
But then, Remus unzipped his trousers and pushed them down his now naked legs, exposing almost all his skin save for what his pants covered.
This hadn’t been something Sirius had expected, but he supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised. Remus, for all the secrets he kept, was terrible at keeping secrets. He always seemed to feel so guilty and, as Sirius had asked to see, had shown everything.
Once the trousers had been kicked to the bottom of the bed, Sirius felt over dressed. He contemplated taking his own off to even things out, but felt as though it would be an awful idea. This, he knew, wasn’t sexual. This was so much more.
Remus was trusting him with something precious, and he couldn’t muddy it.
Finally, he let his eyes wander away from Remus’ face and down his body. A mixture of scars of varying ages swam in his skin, making strange but not unattractive patterns. Light and dark colours swirled along his arms, becoming more faded the higher they rose up his arms.
A nasty bruise and a nearly healed mark on his stomach (likely from where Moony had thrown himself down the stairs and onto the bannister) mottled the somehow paler skin, but was overshadowed by the large mark on his left side. The Bite.
He swallowed a shudder as his eyes moved further and further down, tracing the darkening scars that traveled down his hips and to his legs where some of the worst were located. They were raw, even if they were old, and the sharp intake of Sirius’ breath did not go unnoticed by Remus.
Immediately, he folded in on himself, hiding as much of his body as possible.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t–”
“‘s fine.”
“It’s not fine, Remus–Remus, look at me.”
Remus shook his head, and a wave of guilt flooded Sirius so quickly he felt he might drown in it. Words wouldn’t help, and even if they could, Sirius didn’t trust himself to say the right ones. Instead, he decided the only thing that could help were actions. Actions he could do, and he thought he might even do them well.
He moved away from Remus, ignoring the flinch, and crawled to the foot of the bed. Remus had pulled his knees back to his chest and seemed to be shaking, but Sirius ignored that as well. Instead, he leaned forward and put his arms on the mattress to steady himself, then lowered his face to Remus’ feet. Gently, he placed a small kiss to the back of each foot, so light he worried he mustn’t have touched it at all.
But Remus made a very soft noise, and that was enough encouragement to continue. His face moved higher, planting small kisses on the worst scars along his shins, then pause at his knees. Huge, confused eyes stared out at him from behind the arms and legs covering Remus’ face, and he made sure to keep his own open as he placed sturdier kisses to each of Remus’ knees.
“Lie down.”
“…”
“Please, Remus.”
Another small nod from Remus was followed by him laying awkwardly on the bed, his chest heaving and arms shaking. Sirius smiled as reassuringly as possible and ducked his head down, placing another small kiss on Remus’ stomach. The skin quivered beneath his lips and he huffed out a small laugh at Remus’ squeak of indignation, then placed another along the worst of the bite on his side.
Not because he liked it–no, he hated it, and everything it represented–but because it was Remus, and he loved Remus. The bite wasn’t a part of him, not the way Remus thought at least, but the torn skin was. And so, Sirius thought, it was beautiful.
His hands reached for Remus’ wrists as he placed another, firmer, more confident kiss against the centre of his chest. He pulled them up lightly as he sat on Remus’ thighs (not higher, because that wasn’t what this was), then dragged his left hand to his lips.
Though his own face was certainly as pink as Remus’, Sirius made sure to keep their eyes locked as he kissed the tips of each finger. It felt almost silly, really, but he tried to hide his own insecurities by brushing his lips against the captured palm instead, then up to the wrist itself.
His breathing was coming quickly now, and while he felt another stab of panic that he might be making Remus uncomfortable, he tried to pay it no mind. With the look on Remus’ face, he doubted very much he felt uncomfortable, and wouldn’t he say so if he was? He knew he’d need to, didn’t he?
Carefully, he placed that arm back to the bed and pulled the other to his lips, leaving a series of small pecks from Remus’ knuckles, over the back of his palm, up his forearm, and to his elbow. That, Sirius realised, might be a favourite place to touch, given how very soft it was and the awkward wriggle he received in return for his affections.
“I love you.” He whispered into the skin of Remus’ bicep as his lips moved higher and higher, over his shoulder and to his neck. “I love you, all of you.”
He mumbled it into Remus’ neck, smiling happily as his face was smooshed by a shrug. His lips grazed over Remus’ cheek, planting far messier and wetter kisses over the now very pink skin, then over his forehead. It wasn’t until he heard what might have been a very sweet laugh that he pulled back, resting his forehead against Remus’ as their fingers linked.
“Thank you.” He smiled, placing a quick peck to the end of Remus’ nose. “For showing me.”
“Pad–”
Before Remus could say anything, Sirius closed the distance between them and pressed their lips together. It stole the breath right from his lungs and while he might have made an embarrassing noise, he didn’t mind too much.
The kiss itself was chaste, but it meant more than he could express in words. He suddenly felt ridiculous for ever worrying about their physical future together, and could feel in his heart that, when the time came, it would all be all right.
After another quiet shared smile, Sirius shifted back onto the bed. Remus wriggled closer and laid his head on his shoulder, and the rest of the world ceased to exist.
Truly, Sirius thought, he’d never tire of these moments. There would never be a day he wouldn’t love Remus–all of Remus–and he hoped he wasn’t the only one who realised it.
Kiss on the forehead: Parental/Familial loveKiss on the nose: You make me happyKiss on the cheek: Platonic love/Friendship/AttractionKiss on the lips: Romantic love/AttractionKiss on the neck: I want you/You are mineKiss over the heart: I am connected to youKiss over the wrist: I think you are beautiful/I find you attractiveKiss over the back of the hand:Respect/Admiration/ReverenceKiss on the palm of the hand: I am yours/I know you have meKiss on the knuckles: ProtectivenessKiss on the fingertips: I care about youKiss on the stomach: Sexual attraction/DesireKiss on the knees: I want to support youKiss on the feet: Fealty/Loyalty/Servitude/Submission
mestoselenophobia replied to your post: mestoselenophobia replied to your post: ...
I’m afraid you already missed the joke, Severus. Which is surprising considering it’s right in front of your face.
“Pardon me, my nose must have been blocking it – seeing as your joke was so pathetically small. Here I thought you were the intelligent one of your group. Perhaps all the time you spend with Potter and Black is killing off brain cells.”
…since you’re so adamant, and I’m unable to resist (and you really should feel awful for taking advantage of me), then fine.
I love you. I love everything about you. You’re one of my best mates, and you’re family. I trust you, as much as I trust Prongs, and I’m happier when I’m with you than when I’m alone.
You do all these annoying things but they aren’t annoying when you do them. Honestly Remus, I wonder how you’re even able to do them and not be annoying.
I really love it when you’re trying not to smile because you’re utter pants at it, and I really hate it when you’re trying to smile and don’t mean it. You’re probably the smartest person I know, and it isn’t because you read, either.
I don’t know. My family is known for incest, so maybe it isn’t surprising I’m in love with you. In love with a brother. I think. There’s no other explanation, is there. Thank Merlin we aren’t related by blood, else my parents would be absolutely thrilled.
There was no telling whether Remus was actually awake or not (despite him speaking), so Sirius tried not to respond. It wasn’t every day that a pliant and grumpy Remus chose him to fall asleep on, and it was far too great an honour to bugger up with words.
Instead, Sirius shot James and Peter the look (because even though he was softer than a pillow, they shouldn’t be making faces at the remark, and it was nothing to be ashamed of), but only got a quiet laugh and a half-hearted shrug in return.
Didn’t matter. Sirius had been chosen.
“Do you want to stay here in front of the fire? I’ll have Pete and James fetch us a blanket if you want.” Sirius’ voice was very soft and quiet, as all their voices became around the Moon. “Or if you’re hungry, we’ll send them to the kitchens.”
At that, Peter gave Sirius a put out look but didn’t look as though he’d argue, and James nodded sagely. They couldn’t do very much for Remus, but they’d all do as much as they could.
