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Even the Sweetest Plum

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Remus Lupin has always thought that Sirius Black was impossible. Both because of his uncanny charm and his propensity to rebel against people trying to help him. Sirius doesn’t let people know him well enough for them to know when he needs help. There was one exception, Remus thought, but that was a long time ago.

Remus flips through an old stack of Polaroids from the Marauder’s days at Hogwarts that Lily charmed so they’d move like normal wizard photos. Shuffling to a new one, Remus sees a familiar head of messy black hair entering the corner of the photograph then creeping back out. Lily’s fingers swing through the frame for a second, probably motioning for James to get out of the shot. In the foreground, his younger self and one Sirius Black stand side by side. He looks bored with a hint of amusement, an attitude only a wealthy heir could pull off. Sirius’ hands tuck into his pockets and push his robe back while Remus picks a piece of lint off his sweater. Remus watches as Black takes his gaze away from Lily and studies Remus instead. He bumps his shoulder with his then gives him an impossible smile.

The charm ends before he can see his younger self’s reaction. Remus remembers that day. It was a chilly fall day, but the sun was out. For the life of him, he can’t recall why James and Sirius weren’t at the Quidditch field, relishing the rare weather. Instead they were all posing for a picture in front of the Black Lake. Remus holds the Polaroids to his chest for a brief second then squirrels them away in his sock drawer. It’s easy to hide a stack of photos amongst the thick wool socks, sorted by color and length.

A rhythmic knock sounds at his flat’s door and Remus snatches his wand from the bedside table. His feet carry him soundlessly through the hallway having memorized the creaky spots and the exact place where the decorative table stands. He reaches his front door, pressing his eye to the security hole only to see the distorted view of his old friend. Sirius Black.

Remus undoes the manual locks with a flick of his wand, keeping the other magical wards fully in place. With a turn of the handle, the door swings open.

“What a warm welcome,” he says, staring at the wand being held at chest level.

“Sorry.” Remus lowers his wand. “Old habits, I suppose.”

“Hmm,” he hums. His eyes trace the edges of the doorway as if he sees the invisible wards creating a barrier between him and Remus. “We should go inside, that is unless you prefer having conversations in the hall.”

Remus mutters the spell to let him inside and Black saunters past him, his eyes scanning the flat before finding a destination in the kitchen. His thick, black hair ties into a delicate knot atop his head and his muggles clothes say he’s spent the day out. He wears a baggy v-neck long sleeve shirt that’s half-tucked into straight-legged brown khaki pants. It’s an outfit that’s supposed to blend him into the crowd, but Sirius can’t do that even when he tries. He looks too good, even when his body hasn’t fully recovered from Azkaban.

“You're supposed to be in hiding,” he says, following him into the breadbox sized kitchen. Sirius opens the fridge. They both survey the general lack of groceries and Remus opens his mouth to say he doesn’t have much, but that’s fairly obvious and he knows he’s not one to keep food around.—-that was James’ habit, always hoarding snacks.

Sirius abandons the fridge in favor of the top cupboard beside it: the one that houses the tea.

“I’ll put the kettle on,” Remus says, grabbing it from the stove and filling it with water from the tap. He set it on the burner and turns the heat on, then faces Sirius whose still inspecting Remus’ tea collection.

Sirius sniffs each tin until selecting the expensive orange blossom oolong from the shop around the corner. His tastes haven’t changed, Remus thinks and smiles to himself before adopting a stoic face to confront him about risking his life.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Remus starts again.

“There’s a lot of things I’m not supposed to be. Like alive,” he says. He pushes up his sleeves, revealing black ink etched across his forearms. Remus wants to study each tattoo, memorize his skin, but he dismisses the thought, giving Sirius a disapproving look instead. Sirius ruffles under his eye, saying nothing while he portions two servings of oolong into reusable tea bags. He opens a few cupboard doors searching for cups, then gets to the one behind Remus.

Remus’ throat tightens and his whole brain is absorbed in the scent of him. His grey eyes hold his own, simmering with emotion that can only be read by those who know him. The heat from his body radiates off him. He’d forgotten what it was like to be so close to Sirius Black. It was intoxicating, overwhelming—an uncontrollable force of nature. Impossible.

“Maybe I didn’t want to think about my life for a moment,” he says, then reaches for the handle behind Remus, but stops, letting his hand fall by his side. “Maybe I’d rather think about you.”

“My life?” Remus scoffs, “because it’s so peachy.” He steps to the side to allow Sirius to search the cupboard behind him despite knowing it’s the wrong one.

Sirius’ mouth hardens into a line and his long, thin fingers thread through the hair coming free from his bun. “Maybe I just wanted to exist in a place where the future didn’t seem so goddamn bleak. A place with you.”

“With me?”

“Merlin, is it so hard to believe that I want to spend time with you?” Sirius huffs.

“Thought I’d remind of the past you so want to forget.”

“No.” Sirius’ eyes flash with anger “You were always the best parts.”

Remus stares at him, willing his heart not to beat so fast and or his cheeks not to color. His eyes fall to Sirius’ bottom lip which is being sucked into his mouth as if he said something he didn’t mean to say and wishes he could pull the words back inside. The kettle sings breaking the tension between them.

Remus switches off the burner and selects two cups from the cabinet nearest the stove.

“You were gonna let me search every cupboard, weren’t you?” Sirius says. “Prick.” He laughs.

Remus smirks and finishes preparing the tea.

Chapter Text

Remus watches Sirius undress. Well, not really.  He’s not so much taking off his clothes as he is removing his shoes and letting his hair down. Sirius’ fingers wind themselves under the elastic band and with a swift pull, his dark locks tumble onto his shoulders.

“Top knots are the devil’s work, I tell ya. All looks, no comfort,” Sirius says, using two fingers to massage his temple. He lays back on Remus’ meager but surprisingly comfortable sofa. He cants his shoulders to prop an elbow on the arm rest and stretches a leg out while keeping the other close to the sofa’s edge, knees wide.

Remus swallows and nods as if he has any idea on the subject. His mouth drys, so he takes a sip of the tea and clutches the cup in both hands. He sits cross-legged in the corner, angled toward Sirius with a throw pillow resting on his lap.

“You look good,” Sirius says, “like you’ve slept.” He says the words with relief and care. The tenderness must have come from years of grief and isolation, because had this been their teenage years, he would have followed that up with a crude statement. Remus gives him a light smile and studies the ways his face has changed. Still the same cupid’s bow mouth, high cheekbones and straight nose, though his grey eyes aren’t quite as alive as they once were. Remus can’t say he’s faired better over the years.

 “You look like you always do,” Remus says, pausing, “well except for the ‘Dad’ outfit.”

 Sirius grins, “I thought to myself what would Moony wear.”

 "This your best shot? You could do better, my old friend.”

 He laughs—a real one, loud, boisterous, and somehow musical. Remus’ heart squeezes. My, it’s been a long time, he thinks.

 “Alls I’m missing is the jumper. Gimme yours,” he says setting his drink on the coffee table and  doing the come hither gesture with his free hand. Remus stares at him, his mouth slightly agape. “What?” He cocks his head, “You’re wearing a t-shirt, not like you’ll be naked. Not that you should be ashamed either way.”

 Remus knits his brows, but his fingers pick apart the buttons of his cardigan, because despite his insecurities, the urge to let Sirius wear his clothes is too strong. Remus’ amber eyes return to his favorite grey ones. Sirius puts his feet on the cushion between them and faces him directly, his fingers resting on his lips.

 “You’re staring.” He stops unbuttoning and lets his cardigan hang open.

 “That’s what you do with art.”

 “Jesus fucking christ,” Remus laughs,  “you’re in a rare mood.” He slides his arms out of the sweater then throws it at Sirius. James and Sirius used to throw cheesy pick-up lines at each other every chance they got to the point where there were rumors about their relationship. But he never directed them toward Remus, because he would have actually meant it. Does he mean it now?

 Sirius lips twitch into a half-smile. He puts it on, looking more like a J. Crew advert than the dad that Remus said he did.  His runs his hand down both sleeves. “I like it better on you. What do you think?”

 “I think it’s a tad chilly without the jumper,” Remus comments instead of saying what he actually thinks.

 Sirius rolls forward, so he’s sitting on his knees on the middle cushion, the space between them shortening. “So take it back,” he says, his voice lillting with a challenge.

 Why would I waste time with the jumper when you’re already where I want you: on your knees. Remus shakes his head. He hasn’t such salacious thoughts about Sirius since seventh year. “Why are you really here, Pads?”

 He sighs. “I already told you.”

 “Then why does it feel like you’re playing some sort of game?”

 “I’m not, but I do want out of my head. Please help me,” he says, leaning forward. His hand rests on the top cushion and his knees bump Remus’ shins. He tosses the pillow resting on Remus’ lap and puts his other hand on Remus’ knee. Sirius’ mouth hovers close to his own and all he can smell is the oolong and the wonderful scent of him.

 “We could,” Remus pauses, his brain searching for the next words because they’ve left his grasp. “We could watch something on the telly.”

Sirius chuckles. “Rem, you only own books.” His eyes drift to where a TV set should reside, but instead a giant stack of books clutter the space.

“Right,” he says with a breath.

“Beside I know a better distraction.” His voice low in Remus’ ear.

“Are you sure?” Remus’ eyes go wide. “Last time we said we’d never—

 “I know what we said last time. I just wanna feel good again. Don’t you?”

 Remus threads his fingers into Sirius long, soft hair and stares into grey eyes that look almost black from his dilated pupils. This impossible boy. Loads of memories of him flash through Remus’ mind: train rides to Hogwarts, midnights under a silver moon, feasts in the great hall, Christmases with James and Lily, and a million perfect smiles.

Remus lets himself touch Sirius the way he wanted to since he first walked in the door. His hands cup his jaw and slide down, pealing off his jumper on their path. Throwing the piece of clothing over the edge of the couch, Remus returns his hands to Sirius’ body. They explore his chest and waist and pull his shirt to untuck it from his pants, then lift it over his head with his help.

“Thank Merlin, I thought you’d never get the hint,” Sirius says.

 Remus narrows his eyes with irritation, then smirks. “You’re in for it now.” He pushes Sirius’ chest, so he’ll lay back on the sofa. He obeys and Remus settles between Sirius’ legs. He kisses his exposed skin, getting to know each new tattoo and scar. He takes his time dawdling along his collar bones then planting more kisses along his sternum. Remus gazes up at Sirius, making sure he’s looking at him, then takes a nipple into his mouth.

Sirius inhales a sharp breath and arches into Remus’ ministrations. His tongue circles the little peak then gives his attention to the other one before moving down his stomach. He gives Sirius’s visible ribs wet kisses, making him wiggle from ticklishness. Remus considers staying to get him back for glib comments, but decides there are better ways. He centers himself, following the straight path of trim dark hair that leads to Remus’ favorite part of Sirius. Well, aside from his eyes and hands. Remus’ pants tighten with the thought of all the wonderful things Sirius can do with his hands.

He refocuses to his current task. He unbuckles Sirius’ belt and slides it through the loops and lets it drop to the floor. He has his button undone when Sirius’ hand stop him.

“You don’t have to,” he says. Remus gives him perplexed look. Then Sirius continues, “I mean you haven’t even kissed me yet.”

“Where have you been the past ten minutes?” Remus asks.

“Like real kisses” Sirius says, “just get your ass up here.”

“I’d have to turn around and I don’t think there’s enough room on this sofa to do that.”

Sirius lets out an exasperated laugh. “Why do you always take everything literally?”

“Why do you only talk in metaphor and hyperbole?”

“Good god, just kiss me,” he says, pulling at Remus’ arm.

Remus crawls to Sirius’ face slow and teasing, occasionally pressing his lips to his tattooed skin and giving him the sweetest, feather-light kisses. He reaches his mouth and smiles, a real smile, before finally giving Sirius what he wants. Their lips collide, matching each other’s patterns in a perfect dance of give and take. Sirius’ lips are soft but demanding and hungry. They require the best from Remus and he’s only too happy oblige.

 Sirius tastes of tea and sugar and the desire to consume him only increases as he opens his mouth to allow Remus’ tongue access. He wraps his legs around Remus’ hips, eliciting a soft groan from him. His clothes are too tight and way too inconvenient. Remus need to feel all of his skin, his hair, his whole fucking being.

Remus grips Sirius’ hair, pulling his head to have easier access to his neck, deciding to pepper it with nips, licks, kisses. Sirius’ breaths come out in gasps and his hands wander under Remus’ waistband.

“I’d forgotten about all those lovely things you do with your tongue,” Sirius says, his smile audible.

“Yeah? Then, why don’t I teach you again.” Remus gives him one last playful bite to the neck then heads south. Doing away with Sirius’ godforsaken pants, Remus settles himself between his legs. The most wonderful spot in the world. Through his briefs, Sirius’ arousal begs for relief, but that’s not Remus’ check list. At least not for a while.

He suckles at Sirius’ fair thighs, leaving pink welts in his path as well as an increasingly frustrated Sirius.

“Please, Moony,” he whines.

 Remus tucks his fingers into his brief’s band and with the help of Sirius yanks them off with one swift pull. He chucks them further into the flat and they land with a soft sound near the door.

“Those are mine now, by the way,” Remus says.

“Little possessive are we.”

Remus lays eyes on a naked Sirius lying on his sofa. His hair in knots, his cheeks flush, and lips chapped. Remus’ cock throbs with the need to enter him and hear him scream his name.

“Hardly,” he dismisses, “I merely have exacting taste.”

Remus wraps his hand around Sirius, deciding that’s enough words out of him, all he wants to hear are moans, gasps, and unintelligible, orgasmic sounds. He gives him gentle, even strokes and Sirius tilts his head back and closes his eyes. His silken skin moves easily in Remus’ hand, the member hardening and lengthening as he goes. His head reddens are Remus guides a thumb over his slit, catching the pre-cum. Remus’ mouth salivates knowing he gets to taste him soon.

Flattening his tongue, he licks a stipe from Sirius’ base to his head. Sirius gasps, his abs tightening for second and his hand tangles into Remus’ hair. He repeats the move then takes him into his mouth, hallowing his cheeks. He sucks and bobs and lets Sirius’ cock graze the back of his throat. Moaning, Sirius’ hips jerk upward, desperate for more contact and friction.

“Oh, yes,” he breathes, “Do that, ugnnnh, again.” His eyes roll into his head.

 Remus swallows as much of Sirius as he can, twirling his tongue as he goes down until he can’t anymore—his mouth full of cock.

 “You feel so good, love,” Sirius croons.

 Remus repeats the motions that make hims squirm and moan the most, using his hand and his mouth until Sirius’ breathing gets heavier and his body tenses. Flush with a light sheen of sweat Sirius pants that he’s close. Desperate to hear and feel his orgasm, Remus doubles his efforts. His own cock strains against his pants almost painfully.

 “Remus!” he shouts gripping the sofa. “Ah, god, yes!”

 Finally, Sirius empties into Remus’ waiting mouth. He swallows and licks to retrieve every last bit. His kisses him then saunters up toward Sirius’ still open mouth.

 “You are incredible,” Remus whispers.

 “Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?” He mutters, threading their hands together. Remus shrugs.

 “I wouldn’t stop you.”

Sirius laughs and kisses him on the cheek before connecting their mouths again. Sirius hums his arousal and deepens their kiss. But before Remus can get Sirius to open his mouth, Sirius pulls away.

 “How is it that you’re fully dressed and I’m naked,” he says, gesturing to his apparel-less form as evidence, “Honestly not fair.”

 “That’s because we’re just getting started,” Remus says, pulling on his hand to lead him to the bedroom.

Chapter Text

“You did WHAT?” Lily raises her voice. Her mouth opens wide and her eyebrows near her hairline. All the Marauders know she heard James perfectly well and isn’t asking him to repeat what he just said.

James ruffles the hair on the back his head and watches the ground, but Sirius flashes a proud grin and squares his shoulders. Anytime he can shock Lily, Sirius calls it a win. James mutters about how it won’t last that long and none of the charms are permanent. 

Remus holds his place in his novel with a finger, choosing to watch the scene unfold in front of him instead. He sits with a knee close to his chest in a high-backed chair in the Gryffindor common room. Beside him a steaming cup of tea waits on a small round table for his mouth to return. A matching chair remains open on the other side of the table. The two Marauders and Lily continue their heated argument, standing apart from the other Gryffindors milling about. 

Remus catalogues the way Lily’s red hair twists into a half-hazard pony tail, the grey shade under her eyes, and her rumpled uniform. Her wand sticks in her hair and her hands smudge with ink. She’s been studying… a lot. Lily’s hands plant themselves on her hips, but she angles herself toward James and slowly pops his personal space bubble. They work like two opposing magnets orbiting each other until their polarities switch and they collide, unable to separate. 

“Hey look the whole mess will disappear tomorrow,” James says, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. She leans into his touch and looks into his brown eyes with a sigh.

“Wait where’s Peter?” She asks, twisting her head to search the common room.

“Someone had to take the fall,” Sirius says, his voice cold and detached. Lily double blinks then directs her anger at James.

“You let this happen.”

“What? It was his turn,” he excuses. She shakes her head and narrows her eyes at Sirius. She studies him, picking apart his micro expressions. Remus does the same. Spotting the slight turndown of his mouth, worried brow, and clenched jaw. Sirius’ face snaps back to his usual aloof gaze, attempting to keep Lily out of his head. But even her tired eyes catch it. 

“Peter wasn’t supposed to get caught. This was an accident,” she states. 

He looks at her with wide eyes—his cool demeanour cracking. “How did you know?”

“You want people to think all you care about is yourself, but that’s not true. You only love your friends.”
Remus curls two fingers around the handle of his tea cup and takes a sip. It’s a standard English Breakfast tea but still good. Lily whorls around to face Remus. 

“And don’t think I don’t know your involvement in this.”

Remus puts up his free hand, a gesture of innocence. “I’ve been here all morning.”

“There’s no way these two idiots came up with this plan.” She points a thumb behind her at Sirius and James who gape in protest. “It’s way too elegant.”

Remus directs his attention to his friends. “What exactly did you do?”

“We put a concealment charm on Slytherin’s brooms and filled the Hufflepuff locker room with snakes.”

“And flooded the field for good measure,” Sirius chimes in. 

Remus runs a hand along his forehead as he vaguely recalls a conversation had over a passed joint, in which he detailed an outlandish plan for Gryffindors to exact their revenge against Slytherins. It relied on professors believeing Hufflepuffs and Slytherins are trying to sabotage each other before their match today. It has nothing to do with Gryffindor, nope, not one bit. 

“In my defence,” Remus says, closing his book, knowing this conversation isn’t ending soon, “I didn’t think they’d actually do it.”
Lily scoffs, “Please.” She assesses James again who’s taken to shoving his hands in his pockets. His shoulders scrunch to his ears and he gives her a sheepish smile. Her face softens, and she takes his hand from a pocket, lacing it with hers. “C’mon, let’s go see this prank.”
Open mouthed and high-fiving, James and Sirius let Lily lead them out the common room toward the Quidditch field. Remus tags along after Sirius’ face asks him if he’s coming. 

They meander through the empty castle, using passages to avoid people and land themselves outside. It’s a rare crisp fall day; warm enough to skip a coat, but not too hot that soft jumpers are uncomfortable. The sun warms Remus’ back and he stifles a yawn, regretting leaving his tea behind. Crunching leaves as they stroll through the grounds, a comfortable quiet settles until Lily breaks it. 

“So, how did Peter get caught?” Her arms spread to keep balance as she steps heel to toe, pretending the edge of the pathway is a balance beam. A fallen tree log presents her with a real challenge and she hopes onto it, swaying for a second. James walks alongside her, lightly taking her hand, so she can lean on him, if she needs to. 

Sirius spins to face her and continues striding backward. “Well, it was bad luck really.”

Lily’s mouth pops open, “You did not just leave him behind.”

“No, no,” Sirius denies, then admits, “not on purpose.”

James helps Lily hop off the tree log. “We took off when it sounded like someone was coming,” James says, “He’s a little slower is all.”

“Swear on my broom that we thought he was right behind us the whole time,” Sirius adds. 

“Mm hm,” Lily hums, “Sure.”

Remus chuckles as Sirius and James give her an indignant scoff. Lily and Remus both know they wouldn’t leave Peter behind on purpose; they deserve a good tease now and then. 

Idle chatter takes over the group as they walk toward the Quidditch field. Students laze around the grounds enjoying the sun and the time off, even if it comes at the expense of the Slytherin-Hufflepuff match being cancelled. Nearby, Remus catches the whispers of a group of Hufflepuffs who look a bit peaky (probably from having seen a locker room full of enchanted snakes) and they admit they’re not too saddened by Slytherins’ lost brooms. Although one of them suggests a charm that might reveal where they are hidden. 

Remus trails a step or two behind his friends, taking long strides and enjoying walking with ease. It’s far enough away from the last full moon and the next one isn’t for two weeks, so his body is mostly healed and the rest of his symptoms haven’t appeared yet. He inhales a deep breath, breathing in the fall-scented air. Wet leaves from yesterday’s rain, fresh dirt, the hint of burning wood, and of course, Sirius: His blasted cologne that makes his knees soft and another part of him hard. Sometimes, Remus wonders if that’s just the way he smells, as if he somehow inherited a body that smells so mouth-wateringly delicious. Remus dismisses the thought because it’s impossible, but then again Sirius is one to break the rules, evidenced by their current task.

The massive goal posts and tented pillars come into view, so far everything look normal. Remus notices the ground softening beneath his feet and knows those two idiots did some powerful magic. Soon, the softened ground squishes and squelches as they trod close to the Quidditch field entrance. In the distance, stern voices hiss back and forth. The hairs on Remus’ neck stand and the instinct to hide makes him hunch his shoulders and tuck his hands into his pockets as if he could be unnoticeable by appearing smaller. Remus sighs, to be unnoticeable—a mere fantasy with his tall stature and a face marred by scars. 

Popping up by his side, Sirius gives Remus a piercing look as if he heard what he’d been thinking and disapproves. Sirius’ knuckles brush the back of Remus’ hand and wrist. The slightest touch sends heat coursing through Remus’ body and the want, the need to lace his fingers with Sirius’ becomes a physical ache. Caving his chest and deflating his lungs, Remus pauses mid-step, then continues, forcing himself to act as if nothing happened. 

Sirius’ affections flash like burning magnesium; they’ll leave you blinded if you stare into them and they never last long enough. Even so, Remus treasures the light, unlike anything else. Their hands press together again and Remus gazes down at his own scarred hand touching Sirius’ fair, beautiful one. His long tapered fingers, sculpted knuckles, and the slightly visible veins on the back of his hand. Remus never thought hands could be beautiful, not until Sirius. Remus senses eyes on him and finds Sirius’ staring at him with curious intent. In response, he gives a slight shrug of his shoulders and enters the field to follow Lily and James. 

The once immaculate green grass drowns in murky water. Pools of it rise and fall with the changed landscape. Mini-hills and pockets of valleys run across the field. Collections of brush, weeds, and flora spring from the water, swaying peacefully in the breeze. Remus thinks it’s rather stunning with its greens and browns, and the small additions of tiny purple flowers clumped here or there. 

“You said it was flooded. This is a goddamn bog,” Lily says, gaping at the sudden change in the Quidditch field. 

“I might’ve downplayed it a smidge,” Sirius says, glancing at his nails. His face remains neutral but his eyes betray him as beaming pride wells in them. Remus wants to ruffle his hair and give him a good shove and then maybe kiss him again and again. Despite everything he wants to do, Remus merely squeezes Sirius’ shoulder. So very platonic. Which is what they are… right?

“I’ll give you guys this: it’s an impressive bit of magic,” she says, still taking in the sight. James grins and snakes an arm around her waist. 

“What do you think?” Sirius asks, his grey eyes waiting for Remus’ approval. 

A smile curves on Remus’ face. “You owe Peter big time,” he says, gazing at the small pond in the middle of the Quidditch field.  He estimates that the pond alone is worth two detentions. “Better be grovelling at his feet with gifts a plenty.”

“Gifts? I dunno know what to get’em,” Sirius says, chewing his lip. “What does he like?”

Remus laughs, “He’s your best friend too.”

“Yeah, but you’re loads better at the whole gift giving thing,” he says. Remus’ eyes focus on the blue sky for a second in a modified eye-roll as he asks the universe how Sirius Black has gotten through six and a half years of schooling without failing or dying. 

“Here.” Remus slips a hand inside his robe pocket to retrieve a bar of muggle artisan dark chocolate. “He’s been salivating over it for a week.”

“You sure?” Sirius asks, his fingers gingerly curling around the sweet. 

“Yeah,” Remus nods. “Now you’ll just owe me. And hopefully you know me well enough to know what I like.”

“I plan on paying back in full,” he says with side-grin. His thick black hair falls in his eyes and he threads a hand through the escaping strands to move them aside. The sun highlights his sharp cheekbones. Remus knows his hand fits the contours of Sirius’ jaw perfectly, as if he was made to cup his face. He wants to touch him, reach out and put that mouth to better use. Blood colours Remus’ cheeks and he knows the lustful thoughts dilate his pupils wide despite the bright sun. Remus thinks about hiding his emotions, but lets Sirius see them instead. 

Sirius’ joking demeanour falls away and his tongue darts out, licking his bottom lip before a row of white teeth scrape along it. The temptation to push Sirius against the nearest tree and take him right then and there grows with the passing seconds.

“Eh, slow pokes,” James calls to them, “catch up.”

Lily and James have already moved on, waltzing arm in arm back down the path they came. It seems Remus missed the part of the conversation when they discussed where they were going and what they were doing. So he follows along. 

“Where are we going?” Remus asks.

“We literally just said— James starts, but Lily elbows him in the side. 

“You know you either have all of Remus’ attention or none of it,” she says, then glances at Sirius, “especially when someone else we know is around.”

He makes a face. “Are you saying I’m a bad influence?”

“More like a distraction,” she smirks.

“Please, I’m the main event. Thank you very much!”

Remus says nothing, and studies his shoes with a small smile, while Sirius and Lily continue to bicker. 

Lily and James lead them to the Black Lake. Finding a free space under a tree, but close enough to the lake’s shore that the lapping sounds add to the birds chirping and crunching leaves. Hogwarts students laze around the lake, daring each other to jump into the frigid waters. Lily unearths a tiny purse from somewhere inside her robes and reaches her hand inside. Searching further, the purse shallows her arm up to her elbow. She was always good at extension charms. A large quilted blanket pulls from her purse like a tissue in a box. She lays it out and they each take a respective corner. Lily curls her legs while James spreads out, resting his head on her lap. Her fingers idly weaves through his wild hair. Remus crosses his legs, and takes a deep breath, enjoying a moment of peace. 

Sirius yawns then takes a nap on Remus’ shoulder. His cheek moulding to the contours and making Remus desperately want to touch more of him and to never move from this spot for all of his days. Days like this. He holds the feeling close, both terrified and relieved that this moment will only ever be fleeting. In grand scheme of his life maybe this could be something he’ll remember, but perhaps it’s best to forget the good when pain is so familiar. 

While Lily and James argue between themselves about who is more amazing, peppering their words with kisses, Sirius’ hand rubs gentle circles on Remus’ knee. It’s soothing and heartbreaking, because even though every touch is thrilling, they come with an expiry date. Remus’ heart thumps in his chest and his skin sizzles with the electricity of Sirius’ very being. Remus wouldn’t give this up for the world. The best parts, the good parts are too precious to forget, even when it seems easier that way. 

Remus covers Sirius’ hand with his own, filing in the gaps between their fingers by lacing them. Remus wonders what about today has made him so bold, but he supposes it’s because now or never. And Remus wants now. He wants a whole god damn life and to share the best parts, and maybe even the worst parts with someone else. He wants everything the world has told him he could never have. 

Lily gasps startling them from their lull. “Oh, I know what we need,” she says, rummaging through her bag again. This time both hands searching for the prize. “Ah, there it is.” She emerges with a Polaroid camera. 

“A muggle camera?” Sirius asks, raising an eyebrow. “Why not use a wizard one? Moving pictures and all.” 

She smiles and points, “I found a solution for that. I did some research and there’s this charm that can— 

“Seems like a lot of extra work.”

“It’s for the aesthetic, Sirius. You should know something about that.”

He laughs.“You got me there.”

“Good. Now let’s stand up, get a proper picture.” She springs to her feet. “Remus. Sirius. Stand over there.” Her finger points toward the lake.
Remus does as she directs and they wait for Sirius to meander to where Remus stands, plucking stray fuzzies from his pullover. 

“What about me?” James muses, “Shouldn’t I be in the picture too?” He ambles into the frame as Lily points the camera. She shoos him away. 

“Later.”

Sirius bumps Remus’ side gaining his attention and their eyes connect. He smiles and Remus wants to press that smile to his lips and keep it there. Lily snaps the picture without warning. The two look toward their photographer with bewildered looks. 

“Weren’t we supposed to be looking at the camera?” Remus asks. 

“You were, but it just seemed more important to capture you as you are. You know, matching my mind’s image of you both.”

“In your mind, we’re looking at each other?” Sirius wonders, his voice cautious and unreadable. 

“Yes,” she affirms with confidence. 

Remus brushes his fingertips along the small of Sirius’ back, a moment of intimacy followed by an hour of taking hundreds of photos. 

Chapter Text

Remus stops guiding them to his bedroom, choosing instead to walk Sirius into the wall. He smiles and invades a naked Sirius’s personal space. His hands skimming along his fair skin, delighting in touching him. Remus presses his hips into Sirius, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him. Remus’s predatory smile curls into a mischievous grin. He pulls Sirius’s hair to the side, allowing himself access to his throat; he kisses the delicate skin, feeling his pulse. Remus nips then flicks a tongue over the newly pink spot. He sucks harder, intending to leave a lasting mark. Sirius’s chest heaves and his hand grips Remus’s shirt, pulling him closer.

Remus lifts Sirius’s leg and rolls his hips into him, letting Sirius know his desire for him.

“Fuck, uh, babe,” Sirius breathes. His hands tighten their grip and as he seeks to increase the friction between them, Remus pulls away. Sirius huffs his disappointment, but doesn’t put up a fight with the thought they’ll get into Remus’s bedroom.

Remus spins on his heals and watches Sirius as they get to the open door. His eyes study his incredible tattooed skin and he finds he wants to kiss it all again. He encloses Sirius between his arms right before they get to their destination, Remus makes his way down that lithe body. His hands find old scars and massage each part of Sirius that Remus knows is sensitive.

“Really?” Sirius half-groans, half-pants, “We’re so close.” He tilts his head toward the open door.

Remus laughs, “How can you ask me to speed this up, when you look this good?”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “I’ve seen better days.” His voice unsteady as if his sarcastic statement caught him off guard with the truth.

Remus shakes his head. “Hardly,” he disagrees, and straightens to his full height, bringing Sirius’s mouth to his. Their lips synch, easy and perfect. Remus snakes an arm around Sirius’s waist so he can press their chests together. Tongues, teeth, and lips clash until they’re both breathless.

Exiting their kiss, Remus says, “Do you want to know what I see?”

Sirius gazes at him, his eyes searching for something that Remus knows not. With a nod, Sirius waits.

“I see my best memories,” he says, running a thumb over a tattoo on Sirius’s ribs. “I was with you when you got this one. Peter almost passed out seeing the needle.”

Sirius hisses at the mention of Peter, but holds close to Remus, so he continues.

Their hands entwine and and Remus presses his lips to Sirius’s knuckles. “These hands. Oh, what wonders these hands can do.”

“Do you remember that time in the—

“Yes,” he growls, the ache in his crotch telling him to enter Sirius soon. “The Shrieking Shack lived up to its name.”

Sirius’s hand creeps under Remus’s shirt and tucks into his waistband to pull Remus closer. His fingers start to move south, but Remus stops him so he can tease a little longer.

“And here.” Remus kisses his shoulder. “Is the second place I kissed you. I was aiming for your neck, but those godforsaken bunks were tight.”

Sirius melts into his touch. “I remember that. Still thought it was hot. But everything you did to me was heaven.”

“Everything?” Remus chuckles with an eyebrow raised.

“Yes,” Sirius says in a small voice, a rare tender smile gracing his face. “I never felt so… so loved.”

Remus kisses him, slow and passionate, constricting his arms around him. He needs to hold this impossible boy so close, because otherwise he’ll come undone. He’ll fall to pieces in the most beautiful hands he has ever beheld.

“You undo me,” Remus whispers between kisses. He feels Sirius smile.

“Speaking of undoing,” Sirius says, stopping their kiss, then yanks him into the room. “You’re still fully clothed.”

“You should fix that,” Remus says, his eyes distracted by Sirius’s naked form.

Sirius hums his delight as his hands pull at the hem of Remus’s shirt. He lifts it over his head and chucks the shirt aside. “Finally.”

Sirius traces the scars on Remus, the only person he’d ever let do this. The delicate touches leave his skin goose pimpled and starving for more contact. Sirius drops his pants and briefs with no ceremony and shoves the offending clothing away when he steps out of them. On his knees, Sirius stares up at Remus, getting his complete attention. Remus’s mind only registers the scene before him, frozen with anticipation. The one man who has ever made his heart beat too fast and mind easy sits on his knees before him. He’s so handsome Remus can hardly stand it.

Sirius wraps those gorgeous hands around Remus’s hardness. “Now this,” Sirius says, studying him, “I could never forget. So big. So good.”
Before Remus can comment, Sirius takes him into his mouth. Remus groans, rendered speechless with that hot, wet mouth on him. He fights the urge to grab Sirius by his long locks and throw him onto the bed to ravage his body.

Sirius circles his tongue on the underside of Remus’s cock, hallowing his cheeks while bobbing. His hand stimulates his shaft, moving in tandem with his tongue. He repeats these motions until Remus’s muscles are tight and blood colours his cheeks and dick. Sirius pulls his mouth off and tilts his head, licking a stripe from the bottom to the top. Sirius regulates his breath, unhinges his jaw, takes the entirety of him. When he moves, Remus squeaks and he would be embarrassed, but he knows what he’s about to do to Sirius and he plans on eliciting sounds way more embarrassing from him. The familiar tightness winds in his gut and groyne, so he pulls Sirius up from his knees.

“Get on the bed,” he demands.

Sirius scrambles onto it. “Hello, Moony,” he mutters.

“Heard that.” Remus smirks while he steps to his discarded pants and retrieves his wand. He casts a few protection spells and a lube one, and hears a sigh from Sirius. He stalks to the bed, his gaze on those grey eyes. Remus crawls to him and hovers over Sirius, abandoning his wand on the night stand. The heat from their skin radiates and makes Sirius shiver, but he holds Remus still with a hand to his chest.

“Hey, um, could you, uh,” Sirius stammers, not making eye contact, then pauses. The silence lingers as Remus waits for Sirius to finish his statement.

“Could I do what?” He asks, his voice curious and gentle. Remus knows Sirius’s tastes well, but if there’s something new he wants to do, he’s open.

“So, um, while I was in Azkaban, I had this fantasy.”

“Yeah?” Remus’s blood simmers eager to hear every word. There’s another pause and Sirius starts his request over again.

“Back in school you were such a kind lover and that was what I needed, but right now I want… I want,” he struggles to say the words. Realisation dawns over Remus.

“You want to be fucked,” he says.

“Please, if you’re okay with that.” Colour dusts his cheeks.

“Pads,” he starts and Sirius cuts him off.

“You don’t have to.”

Remus leans closer to Sirius, whispering into his ear. “I’m gonna fuck you so good, you’ll be orgasming into next week.” Need and desire coat his voice and he hears a soft gasp, one that he wouldn’t have noticed without a little help from Moony. He sits back on his heels, admiring the incredible flush on Sirius’s skin and the fact that he put it there. He gives Sirius a sly grin, gripping his hips. Remus spins him onto his stomach and pulls him upward, so he’s bent over.

“Say no when anything’s too much,” Remus says.

He nods. “Yes.”

“Tell me about that fantasy.”

“Well, it starts like this,” Sirius says, looking over his shoulder at the man behind him.

Remus leans forward to kiss his shoulders, and to press his hardness into Sirius’s backside. “Go on.”

Sirius gasps and leans into him, needing more, more friction, more closeness, more Remus. He pauses allowing Sirius to catch his breath.

“You’d start kissing my chest, then make your way down.”

“To where?”

“To my nipples,” Sirius replies.

“Hmm, not my first thought,” Remus remarks, reaching a hand around to slide along his length. “This was.”

“Mmnnhhhhhh,” Sirius moans, then grips the head board.

“Where to next?” Remus says low, in his ear, nipping at the shell with his teeth. He tightens his grip around Sirius’s cock for a moment before giving him the lightest touches over his head.

“You… can’t keep… touching me like that… if you want me to talk,” he pants.

“Okay,” Remus says, returning to sitting on his heals and eliminating their contact. The corner of his mouth draws upward as a small whine comes from Sirius at the loss. He takes a moment to admire Sirius on all fours. The lean muscle, the flawless skin, his perfectly shaped ass.

Sirius swallows then continues, “We do what we did earlier and you get me like this. And your finger…”

“Enters that tight little hole of yours, right?” He finishes his thought. Remus’s fingers trail one of Sirius’s cheeks then centre themselves and find his opening. He pushes, but doesn’t enter, teasing.

“Yes, yes, please,” Sirius says.

“As you wish.”

Sirius scoffs. “Don’t Princess Bride me when you’re about to —

Remus pushes his finger forward, finding the tight wet heat he desperately wants around his cock instead. Everything inside Remus throbs and aches in the best way and he has to take a breath. He moves inside him easing him open for a second finger. With two in him, Remus keeps Sirius breathless and tense.

“So beautiful,” Remus murmurs, kissing any of his skin nearest his mouth. He adds a third finger, entering him faster and harder. Sirius said he wanted to be fucked. Fucked, he shall be. And this is only the start.

“Oh, mmm, yes, ahhh,” Sirius runs his mouth, “so good.” His hand tightens on the head board and he moves with Remus’s thrusts, leaning into his hand. Remus doubles his efforts, making Sirius pliable and shaky in his hands. “Remus, please.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“Your cock.”

Hard, overwhelmed, and needy, Remus complies, exiting him. He straightens to align with his entrance. Muttering another lube spell, he brushes against his waiting hole.

“Remus,” he says, pushing backward. Remus grabs his hips, keeping him still and halting them. His tension, annoyance, and pleasure build while Remus barley enters him. He pulls Sirius back by the hips, thrusting inside.

Sirius’s heat envelops him. Remus’s eyes roll northward, praising the gods for their greatest creation. His movements freeze as he could have just come from that. “Nothing feels like you do,” he says. “Complete fucking perfection.”

Once Sirius’s muscles relax, he rolls his hips forward so more of him can enter. He retreats, setting up a steady tempo. Remus lets his hands roam over the expanse of his back, and returns to his hips. He eases in and out of him, relishing the way he tightens and relaxes with the movement. He moves a touch faster, preparing him for more.

“That’s all you got?” Sirius teases.

Remus laughs. “Aw, babe, sometimes you’re so dumb.”

“And you’re old,” he remarks.

“Why would you bait a wolf? That’s how you get eaten.”

“Maybe that’s my plan.”

Remus’s smile drops and he spins Sirius around to face him. While snapping his hips into him at a brutal pace, he places a hand at the base of Sirius’s throat. His weight rests on his knees, so he can bring Sirius’s wrist to his mouth. His tongue traces patterns on the sensitive skin, before sinking his teeth in. He watches Sirius’s saucer-sized pupils widen and his chapped, swollen lips gasp.

Hands, teeth, saliva, skin. The sensations wash over them until nothing exists except Sirius and Remus. Obscene sounds come from them as skin slaps and grunts and moans exit their mouths. Sweat glistens on Remus’s chest and neck and Sirius reaches to curl his hand in his damp hair. Untouched and aching, Sirius’s penis drips with pre-cum and he goes to relieve himself, but Remus smacks his hand away.

“I want you begging and desperate, then maybe you can come.”

Sirius whines, but a hidden smile and a tighter grip in his hair tell Remus it’s exactly what he wants. He slows their pace and lowers himself onto his forearms, not to give himself a break as much as he wants to touch more of Sirius. Their bodies rut against one another and Remus kisses him and Sirius opens to invite Remus’s tongue. Heavy breaths between kisses synch together.

Remus wraps his arms around him and pulls Sirius with him as he lies on his back, leaving Sirius on top. His hands dig into Sirius’s hips, guiding them in rhythm with his thrusts. Muscles tense but relaxed, they find a new pace. Remus knows if he lets himself think about the way Sirius’s tight, wetness squeezes around him or how their hips connect or the way Sirius looks with his hair a mess and his eyes closed in ecstasy, he’ll come. Merlin, he wants to, the need burns through his skin and his whole body begs for it, but he can’t let this wonderful, precious thing go yet. There is only now. Time doesn’t matter when you have Sirius Black in your bed.

Sirius puts both his hands in his own hair, arching his back and putting on a show. Remus studies each fluid movement: his arms folding, fingers snaking into his hair, head tilting back, eyelid fluttering and his spine curving. Remus’s rhythm falters and Sirius smirks, knowing what he has done. He adjusts his hips, finding the delicate, responsive part in Sirius that’ll make his knees weak.

“Unggghhhh, yes baby,” Sirius moans. “I’m close, I’m close, close.”

“Not before you beg,” he says, his stern professor voice slipping into his tone. Sirius shivers and calms his breath to keep himself from coming. Remus grabs at Sirius’s legs, his nails creating little red half-moons as he fucks him. Sirius matches his rhythm, causing the friction to increase. Groans escape from them both. Sirius bites his lip and fights his instinct to wrap his hand around his cock.

“Please,” he whispers.

“Say it louder.”

“Please, please,” Sirius says, panting, “I need your cock fucking me. Make me come.”

Remus continues hitting his prostate, his own need tightening, then he slides a hand around Sirius’s prick. Sirius drops his hands onto Remus’s chest, holding himself up as his legs shake and his cum spills onto Remus’s abdomen and hand. His breath uneven and sporadic, muscles limp.

The sight of Sirius coming undone leads Remus over the edge and a choked moan catches in the back of his throat. All Remus can think about is how amazing this feels, overwhelmed, but so pleased. Still and collapsed, they tangle their limbs while fingers trace arms and backs. Remus’s heart races with pleasure and his body uncoils slow, each release of tension satisfying. He closes his eyes and rakes his fingers through Sirius’s hair.

“That was… everything,” Sirius sighs, unable to come up with more words.

“Yeah,” Remus agrees, gliding a hand along his partner’s spine. He reaches for his wand on the nightstand and casts a clean up spell, relieving them of a sticky cum mess. Remus holds him close, relishing the weight of his body and the way their smells have mixed. Comfortable silence cuddles them as they fight sleep, both of them not ready to end this wonderful distraction, this perfect daydream. Reality cannot touch them, not when their arms fit together like puzzle pieces and breathing becomes a shared practice. Every part of him makes Remus ache for more and he doesn’t know if he could ever be satiated, but right now is all he’ll ever need.

In his head, Remus replays this day from the beginning. He sees Sirius standing outside his door, Sirius strutting inside, making tea, letting his hair down. He sees Sirius collapsing onto his couch, watching him undo the buttons of his sweater. Sirius, naked waiting for him to give him all he has. He knows he’ll pay no matter the cost and finds himself crumbling under the weight of how much this means to him. “You,” Remus swallows, hesitating to say his words out loud, “You are everything to me.”

Silence emanates from Sirius whose gone still in his arms. A small drop of wetness hits Remus’s chest and he shifts to look at Sirius, concerned.

“Say that again,” Sirius whispers, soft and vulnerable. Another tear escapes. Remus kisses the top of his head.

“You are everything to me.” He says it slow and tender. Sirius snuggles tighter to him and lets himself drift to sleep. Soundless and calm, Sirius’s past vanishes for a moment of true peace.

Time relaxes around them, pausing with a breath and a hug. The bedroom dims in a lazy, melodic way, casting shadows that play the most beautiful silence. Hours pass as they doze until the evening comes to a close and the dark night hits.

 

Finally willing to move, Sirius rolls off of Remus, and curls into his chest, slinging a leg over him.

“Well, we learned one thing,” Sirius says, “even when you’re trying to be rude, you’re kind.”

Remus narrows his eyes at him and gives him a hard shove off the bed. Sirius lands with a thump, laughing and gasping.

“Prat!” He calls Remus who has a self-satisfied smirk on his face.