Remus/Sirius: Second Thoughts
Title: Second Thoughts
Author:
riot_grrrl_ria
Rating: PG maybe, just for the implied slashiness.
Subject: Remus Lupin/Sirius Black
Prompt: "If an idea's worth having once, it's worth having twice" - Tom Stoppard
Summary: Remus wonders...and so does Sirius.
Words: 500
The mattress sighed under Remus’ weight. He swung his spindly legs up onto the bed, sliding them between the crisp sheets. A moan of melancholy longing slipped over Remus’ pink lips, dissipating into the air before anyone might be able to perceive that it had ever existed. Remus rolled onto his side, his fingers hugging his light frame. He dug into his own flesh, feeling for his ribs. Remus closed his eyes, but he did not draw the curtain.
Remus lay awake for some time, he could not be sure for long. He continued to feign sleep as James and Peter ascended the stairs to the dormitory. Their raucous laughter split the silence of the room, tearing at it like a blade through a paper bag, before James apprehended Remus’ presence: “Ssh!” he hissed, presumably to Peter, who willingly complied.
Some, but not many minutes later, Remus heard the heavy footfalls of Sirius on the staircase. A sharp intake of breath shook Remus from his falsified slumber: his eyes came to rest on the back of Sirius Black. Remus watched the starchy, crumpled cotton of his school shirt slide over his shoulders revealing a slender, and slightly pimpled back. Remus stared as Sirius’ shoulder blades moved underneath his skin, the muscles and ligaments sliding and stretching - performing, albeit unwillingly, for Remus.
Remus gulped as Sirius’ fingers unclasped his belt, the draping fabric of his school trousers barely touching the skin of his thighs as they slipped down over his hips before collapsing in a heap around his ankles. Barely touching, Remus thought and then, for a moment…what if? What if he eased out from under the covers; what if he padded over to where Sirius was; what if he reached out a hand - no, a single finger - and ran it softly over the protruding vertebrae of Sirius’ spine; barely touching.
The thought, the mere thought of his own skin pressed against Sirius’ caused Remus’ heart to pound vehemently in his chest: it was keeping a beat so loud that he thought that Sirius would be able to hear its anxious palpitations. Remus closed his eyes again. He listened to his heartbeat, willing it to slow, to calm, to rest. He could still hear Sirius’ movements, his nocturnal shufflings as he readied himself for bed. And somewhere, between the thumping in his chest, and the constant image of Sirius that was seemingly etched into his mind, Remus fell asleep.
Sirius kicked his trousers out of the way as he pulled back the covers. A sleepy sigh escaped Remus’ lips, drawing Sirius’ attention. Sirius smiled wanly, as he crept quietly to Remus’ bed, careful not to wake him. Sirius grasped the drapes of Remus’ bed in one hand: he was about to close them when he looked down at the sleeping figure that lay before him; at the coppery strands of hair falling across Remus eyelids, and Sirius hesitated. And for a moment - only a moment, Sirius told himself - he wondered…what if?