(no subject)
Title: Poetry in the Rain
Prompt: Some more poetry, "Post-Hogwarts, Pre-Azkaban" at tellmeakiss. Further inspiration came from this cute picture by Kinky-chichi.
Type: Slash
Genre: Fluffy, angsty, and all together Wolfstar.
Pairing: Sirius/Remus
Word Count: 946
Disclaimer: Regrettably, neither the pups nor any other characters are mine.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Mild, incidental language; talk about death; and two blokes kissing.
Summary: Sirius gets a letter from the Ministry, informing him that they found Regulus dead. In a fit of madness, he runs away, and Remus finds him in the park.
Feedback: Is Love.
Beta: None.
Sirius sits outside in the rain, on the brick wall lining the park near his and Remus’s flat, letting it drip off his bent head and languid, soaked-through hair. The only reason why the little old ladies passing by can’t see his chest through his white t-shirt was because he hadn’t taken off his leather jacket before running outside. Everything happened far too quickly, it was like music. He’d only just Apparated into the flat when an official-looking owl flew in through the window - Remus leaves them open, claiming that fresh air helps him think, and it isn’t winter, so Sirius won’t complain - and came over to him. It only hung around for a minute after giving him an even more official-looking letter with the Ministry of Magic’s seal on the envelope. Remus’s inquiries into what it was bounced off of his ears as he opened and read the letter, and, as what it said sank in, he felt his body turn and run out.
He doesn’t remember much past leaving the flat - his feet were suddenly cowardly, and Remus yelled after him, completely confused from the sound of it - and how he managed to get to the park without getting run over by one of those mad Muggles in their “cars” is a mystery to him. Last time he went out in a daze, he’d just been informed, through a letter from Gringott’s, that Uncle Alphard had died and left him a large pile of Galleons…and then he’d only been saved from getting run over because Remus had followed him that time and pulled him out of the street by the collar of his jacket. He wraps his hand even tighter around the letter. Why hasn’t he thrown it out yet? Furthermore, why are his eyes suddenly burning with tears? Why in the bloody depths of Hell is he crying over his brother? Regulus was young, sure, but…he bloody well got what was coming to him. Why does it fucking hurt?
Suddenly, the rain stops. Without bothering to dry off his face, he looks up into Remus’s smiling face. For some reason, Remus is still getting wet. He shifts his gaze upwards again to see an umbrella hovering over his head. Remus sits down next to him on the wall, apparently not caring that the bricks are wet, and puts his head on Sirius’s shoulder; the umbrella covers both of them, as do the stares of the bloody passersby who can’t mind their own business. Sighing warmly, Remus’s breath condenses in the cool air, and it looks like he’s insufficiently dressed for the weather…just a patched coat over his jumper, and an old Gryffindor scarf. But he doesn’t seem to care; he only rubs his head on Sirius’s shoulder affectionately.
“You’re wet,” he remarks pleasantly after a while.
“Yeah…” Sirius sighs morosely. “It’s raining.”
“What’s wrong?”
“How’d you find me?”
“You always come here when you’re upset, Padfoot, and whatever that letter said upset you, and so I assumed -correctly, I might add - that you’d be here. Now…tell me what’s wrong?”
“…Regulus is dead.”
“You’re joking!” Remus is earnestly disbelieving; the abrupt tenseness in his neck is far from forced.
“I’m not. Irish Ministry found him in some makeshift shack outside of Londonderry, near the shore. Dark Mark over it and everything.”
“What would the Death Eaters want with him? I mean…he wasn’t really…useful, was he?”
“They don’t know all the details, but…he had one.”
“One what?”
“A Dark Mark, on his arm…looks like he was trying to get out, or something. And they got him anyway.”
Oh Merlin…why is his voice breaking? Is he actually getting torn up over that prat he had to call a brother until he got disowned? Regulus. Had. It. Coming. If you’re an idiot and go join the Death Eaters, then you have to fucking deal with the consequences, just like everyone else has to for their actions. Besides, he never liked Regulus, and the feeling was entirely mutual…but he’s still wrecking the letter with one hand and bunching his jeans up with the other. But Remus is warm, and he’s still here, and his presence doesn’t make it any less biting that Sirius is losing it over the Death Eaters killing his brother, but…it makes everything seem less terrible.
And then something Sirius can’t expect happens. Even though Remus is usually shy and there are tons of people on their ways to wherever the Hell they’re going, he leans closer, turns his head, and kisses Sirius delicately on the lips. Muscle memory makes Sirius kiss back at first, but then a surge courses through him and he finds that he quite likes it. When he tries to slip in his tongue, though, Remus subtly pulls away, leaving Sirius’s mouth open, expectant.
“Not on a first kiss, Pads,” he breathes warmly, right into the mouth he only just left. “It’s completely classless.”
“Sorry,” Sirius whispers.
“No, I like it…but it’s tacky.”
“And…”
“You couldn’t do anything to help him if he was a Death Eater, and you two never liked each other.”
“But I-”
“As the poets have mournfully sung,’” Remus sighs, quoting that WH Auden bloke he’s been into recently. “‘Death takes the innocent young, / The rolling-in-money, / The screamingly-funny,’ and…no, the last line’s terrible.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“Fine, if you insist…it’s: ‘And those who are very well-hung.’”
“Not referring to me, are you?”
“…Well, you are prone to wandering around the flat in next to nothing, but the point is that we all die…Regulus just got himself into a bad situation and went early.”
“Moony…”
“Yes?”
“Kiss me again.”
And Remus does, with tongue this time.
Prompt: Some more poetry, "Post-Hogwarts, Pre-Azkaban" at tellmeakiss. Further inspiration came from this cute picture by Kinky-chichi.
Type: Slash
Genre: Fluffy, angsty, and all together Wolfstar.
Pairing: Sirius/Remus
Word Count: 946
Disclaimer: Regrettably, neither the pups nor any other characters are mine.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Mild, incidental language; talk about death; and two blokes kissing.
Summary: Sirius gets a letter from the Ministry, informing him that they found Regulus dead. In a fit of madness, he runs away, and Remus finds him in the park.
Feedback: Is Love.
Beta: None.
Sirius sits outside in the rain, on the brick wall lining the park near his and Remus’s flat, letting it drip off his bent head and languid, soaked-through hair. The only reason why the little old ladies passing by can’t see his chest through his white t-shirt was because he hadn’t taken off his leather jacket before running outside. Everything happened far too quickly, it was like music. He’d only just Apparated into the flat when an official-looking owl flew in through the window - Remus leaves them open, claiming that fresh air helps him think, and it isn’t winter, so Sirius won’t complain - and came over to him. It only hung around for a minute after giving him an even more official-looking letter with the Ministry of Magic’s seal on the envelope. Remus’s inquiries into what it was bounced off of his ears as he opened and read the letter, and, as what it said sank in, he felt his body turn and run out.
He doesn’t remember much past leaving the flat - his feet were suddenly cowardly, and Remus yelled after him, completely confused from the sound of it - and how he managed to get to the park without getting run over by one of those mad Muggles in their “cars” is a mystery to him. Last time he went out in a daze, he’d just been informed, through a letter from Gringott’s, that Uncle Alphard had died and left him a large pile of Galleons…and then he’d only been saved from getting run over because Remus had followed him that time and pulled him out of the street by the collar of his jacket. He wraps his hand even tighter around the letter. Why hasn’t he thrown it out yet? Furthermore, why are his eyes suddenly burning with tears? Why in the bloody depths of Hell is he crying over his brother? Regulus was young, sure, but…he bloody well got what was coming to him. Why does it fucking hurt?
Suddenly, the rain stops. Without bothering to dry off his face, he looks up into Remus’s smiling face. For some reason, Remus is still getting wet. He shifts his gaze upwards again to see an umbrella hovering over his head. Remus sits down next to him on the wall, apparently not caring that the bricks are wet, and puts his head on Sirius’s shoulder; the umbrella covers both of them, as do the stares of the bloody passersby who can’t mind their own business. Sighing warmly, Remus’s breath condenses in the cool air, and it looks like he’s insufficiently dressed for the weather…just a patched coat over his jumper, and an old Gryffindor scarf. But he doesn’t seem to care; he only rubs his head on Sirius’s shoulder affectionately.
“You’re wet,” he remarks pleasantly after a while.
“Yeah…” Sirius sighs morosely. “It’s raining.”
“What’s wrong?”
“How’d you find me?”
“You always come here when you’re upset, Padfoot, and whatever that letter said upset you, and so I assumed -correctly, I might add - that you’d be here. Now…tell me what’s wrong?”
“…Regulus is dead.”
“You’re joking!” Remus is earnestly disbelieving; the abrupt tenseness in his neck is far from forced.
“I’m not. Irish Ministry found him in some makeshift shack outside of Londonderry, near the shore. Dark Mark over it and everything.”
“What would the Death Eaters want with him? I mean…he wasn’t really…useful, was he?”
“They don’t know all the details, but…he had one.”
“One what?”
“A Dark Mark, on his arm…looks like he was trying to get out, or something. And they got him anyway.”
Oh Merlin…why is his voice breaking? Is he actually getting torn up over that prat he had to call a brother until he got disowned? Regulus. Had. It. Coming. If you’re an idiot and go join the Death Eaters, then you have to fucking deal with the consequences, just like everyone else has to for their actions. Besides, he never liked Regulus, and the feeling was entirely mutual…but he’s still wrecking the letter with one hand and bunching his jeans up with the other. But Remus is warm, and he’s still here, and his presence doesn’t make it any less biting that Sirius is losing it over the Death Eaters killing his brother, but…it makes everything seem less terrible.
And then something Sirius can’t expect happens. Even though Remus is usually shy and there are tons of people on their ways to wherever the Hell they’re going, he leans closer, turns his head, and kisses Sirius delicately on the lips. Muscle memory makes Sirius kiss back at first, but then a surge courses through him and he finds that he quite likes it. When he tries to slip in his tongue, though, Remus subtly pulls away, leaving Sirius’s mouth open, expectant.
“Not on a first kiss, Pads,” he breathes warmly, right into the mouth he only just left. “It’s completely classless.”
“Sorry,” Sirius whispers.
“No, I like it…but it’s tacky.”
“And…”
“You couldn’t do anything to help him if he was a Death Eater, and you two never liked each other.”
“But I-”
“As the poets have mournfully sung,’” Remus sighs, quoting that WH Auden bloke he’s been into recently. “‘Death takes the innocent young, / The rolling-in-money, / The screamingly-funny,’ and…no, the last line’s terrible.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“Fine, if you insist…it’s: ‘And those who are very well-hung.’”
“Not referring to me, are you?”
“…Well, you are prone to wandering around the flat in next to nothing, but the point is that we all die…Regulus just got himself into a bad situation and went early.”
“Moony…”
“Yes?”
“Kiss me again.”
And Remus does, with tongue this time.