Pairing: Remus/Sirius (Sirius/Other, Remus/Other)
Summary: Loving (and fucking) Sirius Black in several easy steps.
Author's Notes: Because Sirius IS that much of an asshole. And Remus isn't innocent either. Um, inspired by JKR's view on Sirius, on musings with fellow lovers of Sirius Black, Proud and Insufferable Asshole, and my own crazy mind. So then, dark. Yay.
Warnings: Slash, sexual content (heh, couldn't tell from the title?), language, violence
Feedback: Is not wholly made of cheese, bunnies, and tree bark. So I've come to learn and so my broken blender sadly remains a testament to. But if you (yes, you) were to leave some, I'd probably be all fucking happy and shit. I joke because I like to curse.
He doesn't like to be claimed, to be overpowered, to let the balance sway in any favor save his own. Those are the first three lessons.
It's evident the first time Remus stretches over him, his hands exploring Sirius's body and Sirius groaning, in a slightly bored, but extraordinarily *sexy* tone (in the way only Sirius can manage), "Fuck Moony, you start a soliloquy on my arse, and I'll have to wank myself off. And you won't get to watch."
Remus tries to be careful, but it rarely works and finds himself losing control so willingly that he wonders why he ever thought he could pace himself, and he rams himself harder and deeper with every thrust.
Sirius tries everything that Remus had no idea about, but almost all of those experiments turn out to be very good ideas. He doesn't remembering coming, but he does remember falling. And Sirius shoves him off, muttering that if Remus starts to weep or declare his eternal love, Sirius will certainly have to use some of his most creative hexes.
Remus, not being a fool, knows Sirius means it and doesn't say a thing.
Sirius burns Remus's best bed sheets with a stray cigarette, forgotten in the middle of reckless snogging (a "how far can my tongue go down your throat" type of challenge), and Remus patches it up the next morning.
Sirius wants to be fucked hard, but he fucks back harder and sometimes Remus wonders what's the point of topping when Sirius makes him fall over every damn time and he's always up for another time, as though he'll ever understand why he's fucking Sirius when Sirius ultimately is the one fucking him.
Sirius claims everything and tosses it aside like there's something better that'll come his way. Of course, he's right.
So when Remus tightens his grip, long fingers pressing into the flesh, he swears he can feel bone, he knows it's worth it. Knows the taste of Sirius's flesh in all its bizarre varieties, how Sirius is fond of incorporating food especially at it's messiest and most improbable.
Remus ends up cleaning the extraordinary mess after his voice has grown hoarse (Sirius likes noise but rarely makes any himself and when he does, it is forced, affected, teasing Remus for his unreserved vocal reactions) and Sirius never makes any acknowledgment of the work done.
Sirius takes Remus in the shower, shoving Remus face-forward and saying nothing, his body against his own so tightly (and just too damn close) that it is hard to breathe and Remus doesn't dare. His cock is pressed so hard against the shower stall and Sirius comes before he does.
This becomes one of the rare and few aspects of normalcy in their relationship. They will become filthy after some particularly inspired activities and Remus will wait until Sirius falls asleep so he may shower in private. And every time, Sirius comes in midway through, with an ease and elegance that makes Remus wonder if this is just a mere dream, a sign of his own madness.
But Sirius never kisses him when he enters the shower and never lets Remus touch him.
Sometimes, Sirius gets down on his knees, running his tongue along the head before swallowing deep and sucking hard, other times it's just a hand down his shaft and another hand yanking back Remus's wet locks, Sirius's tongue rough inside Remus's mouth.
Remus comes every time. But Sirius always comes first and leaves Remus to clean himself up alone.
This would be the fourth lesson if Remus remembers to acknowledge such things.
It's worth lies and games and everything in between because even though Sirius stills, he smiles, and waits, merely looking into Remus's eyes, asking him "what are you going to do about it?"
He stops because he knows that Remus wants more than anything for him to continue, and when Remus rolls his hips angling for *that* and receives the imperial look of satisfaction on Sirius's face, he knows who's being fucked, that Sirius thinks this is all merely an official declaring of Sirius as the possessor, and Remus doesn't care.
When they are out in public (so very rare these days), it is amusing to watch the parade of people flirting, whether up close or from a distance, with Sirius. It's evident that Sirius is enjoying the company of others, especially as Remus has never been drunk enough or suckered into a mad enough challenge to wear lipstick or wear complicated bits of pants that would barely cover the whole of his hip, let own the rest of him.
One time Sirius brings it up in his deceptive way, ("it's rather boring being chained isn't it?") and though he's aware of the double meaning, the full moon is scarcely a week away, Remus accepts the challenge.
He acknowledges it with a nod and waves to a very striking woman with wavy brown hair who possesses one of the most talented mouths that he has had the fortune to know. And as he says this in his grave and steady way, Remus lets Sirius know that he's being honest, most of all about how he's learned that rare information.
He is at least, honest in his intentions. If he doesn't know just how much Sirius enjoys a good challenge, he frankly doesn't care.
Sirius smiles, so at ease at being charming and full of himself that Remus almost pities him (for Sirius is incapable of letting things just be), and watches him walks over to the woman, and with just one look into his face, she's captured.
He brings her over to their table and after much alcohol and fierce, challenging glares that Sirius throws at Remus, they end up renting a room. While Sirius learns just how very talented she truly is, Remus comes inside of Sirius, lost to everything except the urge for more.
The woman, (who Remus actually did bother to learn her name, but Sirius never did), departs with a kiss on Remus's lips, which grows deeper and Remus can taste Sirius's come mingled in her taste.
As they get dressed and prepare to leave, he notices that Sirius is frowning and looks unusually annoyed, and being that sex is at the top of Sirius's list for ways to have the very best fun and adventure in life, he asks what's wrong.
Shrugging, Sirius offers that if Remus wants some tits and a wet pussy, there are prettier birds than that plain little sampler.
It isn't instinctual, as he likes to claim later on. He advances towards Sirius, faster and more directly than he ever has, using any advantages he possesses, and captures him in a hot, unrelenting kiss, only breaking apart to breathe.
And catching on (realizing this new behavior is the direct work of petty, superficial jealously), he says he's grown accustomed to her mouth.
There is nothing like shock on Sirius's face. He is sure he will never see it again in his lifetime.
Time as it does, goes on and things get worse. It's harder to see Sirius, let alone fuck him, and when he does, he notices that the only marks on Sirius's body were either made by him or gained in battle. And there are no more bizarre (but admittedly, interesting) bits of lost clothing to be found save his own and Sirius's.
When Sirius tells Remus that he loves him ("You know I do, Moony.") Remus tells him, politely, carefully (he cracked his jaw against a wall during his transformation and he's very sure he'll have to get it fixed by professional healers before it's right again), in his most agreeable voice, to go fuck himself.
And that is not, Remus is wise enough to add, an invitation of himself to participate in that request.
Sirius's eyes flash and he tosses his hair about, and says with great bravado, "See you tonight."
"Actually," Remus says, dully and dusting off his threadbare coat, getting up from Sirius's couch, "I'm going away for a few days."
Sirius's laugh, especially this one, is one of his least attractive features, especially now, the laugh is hard and bitter, and it cuts through Remus, revealing that Sirius just *knows* that Remus will be here tonight, begging for more. He stands as well, moving in closer with a predatory angle that simply doesn't work for Remus anymore.
Sirius adds pointedly, his hands sliding under Remus's coat, and back down again, beginning to pull at Remus's shirt, pressing his fingertips into the sore flesh of his weary back, "I accept love poetry, especially dirty limericks, and life-threatening amounts of alcohol as tokens of your eternal devotion."
Remus takes the brunt of the kiss onto his bruised jaw and manages only to slightly wince. When he pushes Sirius back, a look of hurt flashes into those dangerous eyes before it passes, all too quickly.
"Fuck you, Sirius." Remus disapparates immediately.
Take an inventory of it. Remus hears Sirius tell him that he loves him. He means it, that much Remus is sure of, surer than the few things worthy in his life.
What he never needed to say back to Sirius is this, "I love you too, Sirius."
Of course, he doesn't get a chance to, so that's not saying much.
Not so magical words after all. No bragging rights. No surety that he, and he alone - that Remus J. Lupin tamed Sirius Black. That they fell in love happily ever after and that Sirius respected him and that Remus found the only person who could understand him.
Look at the fragments remaining. Sirius was jealous and spiteful and possessive. He fucked Remus and never let himself get fucked unless he got to fuck Remus back, as equally.
Hate him. It's not so hard after all. Hate him because he's the traitor. Because he killed Lily and James. And Peter. And he did it all with a laugh.
Remus can hate him because it's the easiest thing in the world, next to loving him, next to fucking him, next to being fucked by him.
He meets the woman many years later, she's not as pretty anymore, but still attractive. Married. Asks him about his boyfriend, but with a look that shows she thinks it's about high time Remus found a better partner, if he hasn't already.
There is no story to tell. He politely inquires about her family and doesn't really absorb it all.
One day, he sits at his desk and sets his quill to paper and before he realizes it, he has written, "It wasn't enough to love him."
Ah, the last lesson. But as Professor Lupin would certainly attest to, there is no end to learning. Even when he thinks he's finally come to the conclusion.
And when Sirius returns to him, and his eyes are shadowed in his ruined face and doesn't ask Remus for anything, it doesn't matter who makes the first move, for it has all changed. Remus takes his face into his own hands, bringing Sirius to a slow, careful kiss, and he realizes, finally, he is fucking Sirius Black, he is claiming him. He is having what was denied to him all those years ago.
It is bitter and salty; ashes would be sweeter.
Fucking Sirius isn't a game, there are no winners and no losers, but it is a piece of the past forever lost. And as Sirius rests against Remus, his arm slung over Remus's body, the first time Sirius has ever done such a thing, Remus longs to throw off the arm and announce cruelly that he better things to do.
But Sirius kisses his shoulder and mumbles tiredly, "love you," and it is nearly the undoing, and yet, when Remus stares into the darkness of the room, it cannot touch him, deep down. He has carefully locked away that vulnerability and found himself like a stranger in new lands, seeking familiarity and finding none.
The truth of it is not a stark realization; indeed, he's grown accustomed to the base certainty of the matter.
He misses being fucked by Sirius.