Fic: Before
Title: Before
Rating: R (slightly graphic sex)
Words: ~1,300
Warnings: Rough sex, angst, canon character death (up to and including OOTP)
Summary: Remus remembers one night with Sirius and feels quilt upon reflecting. NT/RL implied, SB/RL past.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters. No profit is being made from this.
Before James' and Lily's death, before Harry's disappearance from the wizarding world, before the end of the first war, Remus Lupin had lived with his mother and father. He spent the majority of his time with the werewolf community, trying desperately (and failing miserably) to institute himself within the confines of its metaphorical walls. He was too familiarized with human civilization, they told him, too socialized. After every full moon he would leave the community and return to his parents' home where his mother would heal him and moon over him for far too long. He would usually stay home for a scant one or two days before stealing away in the darkness of night to return to the other werewolves. Looking back on it, Remus wasn't particularly surprised that James and Sirius suspected him the spy - he would have assumed the same of himself.
Now Remus lived on his own - though that wouldn't last for long. Nymphadora was insinuating herself upon him the same way that he had insinuated himself upon the werewolves only 15 years prior. She was often in his small cottage, drinking his stale tea or reading irritatingly over his shoulder. Remus knew that she just wanted to be a part of his life and he couldn't fault her for it, even if he couldn't really understand her motives. He knew what it was like to be alone and he did generally appreciate her company - her sense of humour, interesting style of dress and ever changing color of hair. When she begged him to date her, it only took so much swaying before he caved to his own loneliness and said yes.
Still, on nights like this one, where he found himself curled in bed alone, blankets pulled tightly around his body to ward off the nonexistent chill in the air, his mind thought not of his fiancé, but of his friend who had fallen through the veil. On nights like this one, when the moon shone fiercely through the gauzy clouds and lit up the dents in his hardwood floor, Remus found himself searching his index of memories for the smell of decaying leaves on a forest floor, the feel of weather beaten wood under his bare skin, the fear of being caught doing something so wrong.
Just over 15 years ago, Remus had been spending one of his rare nights at home. It had been two days after the full moon and he had still been in some pain - he hadn't trusted himself to apparate safely and had decided to wait one more day. There had been a heavy handed knock on the door, one that shocked him from his reading induced reverie. His father had gripped his wand tightly in his hand as he glanced out the window, but a small smile had flitted across his face before he opened the door to let Sirius Black in. Remus remember the nervousness in Sirius' eyes, even if his parents hadn't seen it, he had known from the moment Sirius entered the small space, that something was wrong.
"Remus," he had said quietly, "I was wondering if we could have a private word." Remus had nodded and dropped his book on the coffee table with a false nonchalance, had led Sirius outside so that they could talk on the front porch. He had known that his parents would want to listen.
Remus had crossed his arms over his chest, he hadn't thought it would be so cold outside, had rubbed his arms a few times before glancing sideways at Sirius. "What is it?" he had asked, not needing to ask. He had known what it was.
Sirius had shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the sky. Remus' parents had lived in a cottage far away from town and the stars had always been so vibrant at night. "They think it's you," Sirius had said carefully. Remus had known then, that if it had been him, he wouldn't have been able to lie to Sirius, even though he had known that Sirius only wanted to hear one answer. Even if it was a lie.
"It's not," he had said. He had known that Sirius wouldn't believe him.
"I won't be able to come and see you again," Sirius had said, the words tight and clipped as though he was having an allergic reaction to them.
"I know." Remus hadn't been sure of what else to say. But suddenly it hadn't mattered because there were angry lips crushing against his own, there were fierce hands pulling on his hair and there were tears. Everywhere, there had been tears. He and Sirius had stumbled down the front steps, his bare feet falling over themselves as they bumped and tumbled their way down. And Remus had looked up, seen his mother watching nervously from the window, hadn't wanted her to see that. Not that. And so he had pushed Sirius deep into the forest where they couldn't see what they were doing, where the smell of rotting fallen leaves burned their nostrils and their hands could roam freely over each other without seeing the blush that they caused.
Sirius had pushed him aggressively to the forest floor, had pulled his trousers and pants off in one fell swoop, only to rip his shirt off immediately after. It had been so cold, lying there naked on the ground, breath fogging in front of his face, but soon there had been another naked body atop his own, warmth and hardness pressing down from behind. Remus had struggled, but only slightly because they both knew they wanted and needed it. One last time.
Sirius had gripped Remus' forearm as he entered him, fast, hard, unyielding and unprepared, had covered Remus' mouth with his other hand to keep the screams from being too loud. Remus had pushed his chest up and pressed into Sirius' hips, grinding against the painful pleasure, crying and moaning and keening all at once. He had bitten into Sirius' hand when he felt Sirius bite down on his neck, hard enough to draw blood. Suddenly Sirius' had exploded inside of him, rocking his hips forwards and grunting with pleasure, letting his head rest on Remus' back as Remus humped the ground, needing one last bit of friction to be able to follow Sirius' lead. Remus hadn't been sure, at that point, if the wetness on his back was tears or blood or saliva. Once they had both finished, they had gotten up from the ground, brushing leaves and dirt from their sticky, naked bodies. Remus had ignored the trickle of blood between his legs as he dressed, wiped the drying tears from his face and walked stiffly back towards the cottage.
Before they had reached the front door, Sirius had clapped Remus on the shoulder. "Goodbye," he had said, swallowing the word even as he said it, his grey eyes swimming in the dim light of the front porch. Remus hadn't been able to say anything, but had nodded, touching Sirius' hand briefly before pulling away.
Remus didn't think on that night often anymore. It made him shift with discomfort, it made him miss his friend far too much and it made him feel too guilty for taking advantage of Dora's affections. He had tried to block it out, but he could never bring himself to remove the thought entirely. Because on cold nights like this one, icy and lonely and feeling ever so guilty, sometimes it was easier to remember before.