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Entry tags:
R/S 3-part Fic (to be, anyway)
The angst is back. You can't tell it so much with this one, but my plan is, over the next few days, to post three one-shots tied together sortof like "Red, White and Blue" were, but with a different theme. Don't look for plot, but hopefully you'll feel the ambiance. Unbeta'ed, but if they're worth keeping, I'll ask for someone to do so before shipping them off. R rating for language and implied m/m relationship. Short.
first: characterised by pain and tenderness
There were times when Remus loathed nothing more than his over-attuned sense of smell. It was worse near the full moon, when it could become unbearable. Even in gibbous times, though, and in the midst of the most quotidian activities - Divination class, brushing his teeth, burying himself in the shadowy library stacks as he was currently attempting - scents barreled into him, unbidden and nearly always unwelcome.
Now was certainly one of those times.
Damn that he couldn't be like a normal person and simply sense someone trying to find him, not know the approach through his nose.
Normal person. Another black, vicious joke for which dark humour couldn't even apply. He was nothing if not abnormal, and he wasn't even allowed the privilege of human status anymore. Lips closed, he gritted his teeth, sure that the bilious rage he'd forced himself to swallow when at the Werewolf Registry two weeks ago would leave a permanent stain in his gut. It would be a bruise, the sickly green colour of the ones that he found so often a few days after the transformation. Or so he was told; Remus' lycanthropy had left him colourblind, as though the rest weren't hideous enough.
"I know you're there, Moony."
Of course you do. And I know where you are, you unfathomable, egotistical, friendship-ripping nightmare.
Oddly, Remus felt calm and detached despite the intrusion.
"So what if I am? And don't you bloody dare call me Moony."
Sirius approached cautiously, looking fractured in a way that would have been bewildering to Remus a few weeks ago. Then again, a few weeks ago the bastard hadn't sent Severus Snape into the Shack.
"Remus. Sorry. I just-"
"And stop apologising. What do you want?"
Sirius was a portrait of misery, from his hands jammed into his robes to the stubble on his chin. Even his normally vibrant eyes were haunted.
"Moon- Remus." Sirius licked his chapped lips. "I hate this. You've got to believe me. I was a fucking idiot arsehole. I'd do anything to go back-"
"Shut up," Remus growled, pulling his legs closer to him, reinforcing the barrier.
"I know you hate me. I fucking do, too. Just let me near you. Just hate me while I'm close by."
Remus tried not to listen to the desperate pleas. Of course he hated Sirius, and with every fibre of his body. No one ever should have been allowed so far into the hidden, vast caverns of his being, his damaged, needy soul. Remus was self-preserving by nature. He'd kept his emotions carefully partitioned until Sirius, bloody tenacious, irresistible Sirius, had dismantled them kiss by ragged kiss.
No. Remus had almost killed someone. Sirius didn't deserve back in.
"God, Moony, I'll never, never…"
Sirius knelt in penance in front of him and pried Remus' knees apart, butterfly-like. Shocking himself, Remus didn't resist. Sirius buried his face against Remus' hip, putting his arms around Remus' back, clutching for purchase.
"Don't," he said hoarsely, the sound muffled. "Don't shut me out. Hate me here. Do something."
With an imposed dispassionate ear, Remus listened. Unbidden, one of his hands moved slowly to Sirius' head, where it wavered. Sirius had hemorrhaged too, now, the blood of his bravado drawn through the alembic of this one, nearly tragic act. The first touch seemed to singe Remus' fingers. He bracingly stroked Sirius' inky silk of hair, stilling the wrack of friend, packmate and recent lover cradled in his groin.
Broken, Remus acknowledged. All that was left were shards, unable to control Sirius' seeping back into him.
A spark of forgiveness flickered uncertainly in Remus. He continued to card his scarred hands through the black hair in the quiet of the night-lit library. Remus sat, his arse going numb, waiting. Distant spots of stars in a nearby window caught his eye, dim and bringing no comfort. After gazing at them for some time, he recognised their shape with a start. His disbelief in Signs notwithstanding, Remus knew a message when he saw one.
"Don't ever betray me like that again, Sirius. Ever."
Sirius slowly rolled to his side, stretching out his legs and pulling Remus' hands down to his chest.
"Never," he said reverently.
Sirius' hands were warm as he intertwined their fingers. Remus felt achey and battered, but the possibility of a future glowed in him like an ember.
first: characterised by pain and tenderness
There were times when Remus loathed nothing more than his over-attuned sense of smell. It was worse near the full moon, when it could become unbearable. Even in gibbous times, though, and in the midst of the most quotidian activities - Divination class, brushing his teeth, burying himself in the shadowy library stacks as he was currently attempting - scents barreled into him, unbidden and nearly always unwelcome.
Now was certainly one of those times.
Damn that he couldn't be like a normal person and simply sense someone trying to find him, not know the approach through his nose.
Normal person. Another black, vicious joke for which dark humour couldn't even apply. He was nothing if not abnormal, and he wasn't even allowed the privilege of human status anymore. Lips closed, he gritted his teeth, sure that the bilious rage he'd forced himself to swallow when at the Werewolf Registry two weeks ago would leave a permanent stain in his gut. It would be a bruise, the sickly green colour of the ones that he found so often a few days after the transformation. Or so he was told; Remus' lycanthropy had left him colourblind, as though the rest weren't hideous enough.
"I know you're there, Moony."
Of course you do. And I know where you are, you unfathomable, egotistical, friendship-ripping nightmare.
Oddly, Remus felt calm and detached despite the intrusion.
"So what if I am? And don't you bloody dare call me Moony."
Sirius approached cautiously, looking fractured in a way that would have been bewildering to Remus a few weeks ago. Then again, a few weeks ago the bastard hadn't sent Severus Snape into the Shack.
"Remus. Sorry. I just-"
"And stop apologising. What do you want?"
Sirius was a portrait of misery, from his hands jammed into his robes to the stubble on his chin. Even his normally vibrant eyes were haunted.
"Moon- Remus." Sirius licked his chapped lips. "I hate this. You've got to believe me. I was a fucking idiot arsehole. I'd do anything to go back-"
"Shut up," Remus growled, pulling his legs closer to him, reinforcing the barrier.
"I know you hate me. I fucking do, too. Just let me near you. Just hate me while I'm close by."
Remus tried not to listen to the desperate pleas. Of course he hated Sirius, and with every fibre of his body. No one ever should have been allowed so far into the hidden, vast caverns of his being, his damaged, needy soul. Remus was self-preserving by nature. He'd kept his emotions carefully partitioned until Sirius, bloody tenacious, irresistible Sirius, had dismantled them kiss by ragged kiss.
No. Remus had almost killed someone. Sirius didn't deserve back in.
"God, Moony, I'll never, never…"
Sirius knelt in penance in front of him and pried Remus' knees apart, butterfly-like. Shocking himself, Remus didn't resist. Sirius buried his face against Remus' hip, putting his arms around Remus' back, clutching for purchase.
"Don't," he said hoarsely, the sound muffled. "Don't shut me out. Hate me here. Do something."
With an imposed dispassionate ear, Remus listened. Unbidden, one of his hands moved slowly to Sirius' head, where it wavered. Sirius had hemorrhaged too, now, the blood of his bravado drawn through the alembic of this one, nearly tragic act. The first touch seemed to singe Remus' fingers. He bracingly stroked Sirius' inky silk of hair, stilling the wrack of friend, packmate and recent lover cradled in his groin.
Broken, Remus acknowledged. All that was left were shards, unable to control Sirius' seeping back into him.
A spark of forgiveness flickered uncertainly in Remus. He continued to card his scarred hands through the black hair in the quiet of the night-lit library. Remus sat, his arse going numb, waiting. Distant spots of stars in a nearby window caught his eye, dim and bringing no comfort. After gazing at them for some time, he recognised their shape with a start. His disbelief in Signs notwithstanding, Remus knew a message when he saw one.
"Don't ever betray me like that again, Sirius. Ever."
Sirius slowly rolled to his side, stretching out his legs and pulling Remus' hands down to his chest.
"Never," he said reverently.
Sirius' hands were warm as he intertwined their fingers. Remus felt achey and battered, but the possibility of a future glowed in him like an ember.
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He'd kept his emotions carefully partitioned until Sirius, bloody tenacious, irresistible Sirius, had dismantled them kiss by ragged kiss.
Just hate me while I'm close by.
guh. beautiful.
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::loves::
It's about to get darker. ;)
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Well, as they say, you only hurt the ones you love. ;)