FIC: Humour Me [R/S - NC-17]
Originally posted on my personal LJ on Oct 15, 2004, this is a re-edited version.
Title: Humour Me
Summary: Takes place c. OotP. Remus comes home from an Order mission to find an intoxicated Sirius. When Sirius tells Remus he's in love with him, Remus dismisses it as drunken banter until Sirius asks Remus to kiss him, just to humour him. Just a simple kiss, but with it their relationship changes in an instant.
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine. No money made, still a poor student I assure you.
Pairing: Sirius/Remus
Authors notes: Many thanks to lupinslittlesis for the beta'ing
Humour Me
He touches the door with his wand and waits while it unlocks itself with an audible clicking. He gives a little sigh before opening the door. His emotions are mixed at returning to 12 Grimmauld place but he doesn’t have time to sort them out before there is screaming from the staircase. Remus drops his briefcase unceremoniously and rushes to swing the curtains closed on Mrs. Black’s portrait. He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding and creeps back down the stairs.
He opens his mouth to call for Sirius and then shuts it abruptly. Sirius might be sleeping, he thinks. It’s two in the afternoon, but Sirius has been keeping strange sleeping schedules these days. He decides to investigate further. He checks the kitchen before heading to the drawing room. With a sense of dread he opens the door. The stale air smells of alcohol, and he can see why. Half a dozen bottles litter the floor.
"I wish you wouldn’t drink," Remus says to the figure lying on the couch, bottle in hand. He immediately regrets saying it when Sirius looks up at him, an expression of affliction on his face. Remus stoops down to pick up the bottles. The amber glass bottles hit each other with a cheerful clinking noise, unaware of the unwritten rule that outlaws cheerfulness in this godforsaken house.
"You don’t have to clean up after me," Sirius says in a low voice. Remus can hear the subtle hint of alcohol in his tone and gives a light sigh.
"Well, yes I do, Sirius. You certainly won’t clean up after yourself otherwise. Molly’s tired of doing it and we both know Kreature won’t do it."
Sirius lets out a string of slurred curses at the mention of the house elf which Remus chooses to ignore. He disappears into the kitchen to reappear a few moments later, bottles disposed of. Sirius is still reclined on the sofa, his dark hair draped over the side like silk. One hand dangles near the ground lazily, bottle still in hand while the other runs through his hair idly. He would almost be beautiful if not for his gaunt figure and the anguish in his eyes.
"Now, here," Remus says, approaching the couch. He cringes at the strong smell of alcohol that invades his senses. "Let’s get you to bed. I would make you a sobering potion, but I don’t think you have the ingredients I need."
"You always take care of me," Sirius muses as he allows Remus to help him up. He drops the empty bottle in his hand. It drops with a dull thud and rolls under the couch. Remus sighs audibly. The last thing he wanted to do was come in and find Sirius intoxicated. All he really wanted to do was to go to bed and forget about the last three weeks of doing non-stop work for the Order. It’s not that it is particularly gruelling work, it just sometimes takes a lot out of him. Now is one of those times.
"Well, someone has to take care of you," Remus retorts with a grunt as he helps Sirius stand up.
"I love you, Remus," he says with the traces of a smile.
"Yeah, yeah. I love you too Padfoot, now let’s get you upstairs," Remus replies, trying to appease the drunk.
"No," Sirius says. His tone is suddenly serious and Remus looks over at him. "I’m in love with you."
Remus lets out a forced laugh. "You’re drunk is what you are."
"No, I realized it while I was in Azkaban," Sirius says slowly. He resists Remus’ hold and sits back down on the couch. Remus sits on the wooden coffee table across from him. He decides there’s no point in forcing Sirius to go to bed, and his curiosity has been piqued by Sirius’ talk of Azkaban. Sirius never talks about it, and it seems odd to be talking about it in this context.
"You were lonely in Azkaban," Remus points out, trying to be the logical one. "I’m sure you were in love with everyone."
"Would you just hear me out?" Sirius asks irritably. Remus shakes his head and looks down at his intertwined hands.
"Fine, go ahead. I still think you’re just drunk."
"Fine," Sirius replies stubbornly before continuing. "I realized that I had always been in love with you. I just…I just needed twelve years of hell to realize it."
"Azkaban distorted your perspective. It’s understandable, but you have to realize this isn’t you talking, Sirius. This is twelve years of loneliness. It’s enough for anyone to -"
"I’m not crazy," Sirius interrupts suddenly.
"I never said -"
"You were going to," Sirius accuses. "You haven’t felt it?"
Remus looks up then, and gives a look so closely resembling pity that Sirius can’t stand it. "Felt what?" he asks, afraid of the answer.
"All the tension. All the sexual tension, Remus."
Remus gives him an alarmed look. "No, I certainly haven’t. I believe you need to go to bed, my friend."
He stands up but Sirius puts his hand on his wrist, restricting his movement. Remus looks down accusingly.
"Please, Remus. It isn’t the alcohol. I just needed enough to get up the nerve to tell you how I felt. How I feel about you. You really don’t feel it?"
Remus gives Sirius an apologetic smile. "No, I don’t. I’m sorry, Sirius."
Sirius shakes his head in disbelief. "Kiss me."
"Excuse me?"
"Just humour me. Kiss me," Sirius repeats, looking up into Remus’ eyes.
"No, this is ridiculous. I’m not kissing you."
"Why not? What’s the harm?" Sirius asks.
"You’re just the same as you’ve always been, a horny teenager. I know that it hasn’t been easy, being alone, Sirius, but I really don’t feel the same and I don’t feel that I need to prove it to you."
"Humour me," Sirius persists. "This isn’t me being horny. This isn’t lust, Remus. Just kiss me and if you don’t feel anything, then I’ll leave it be."
"Fine," Remus resigns. He knows Sirius well enough to know that he isn’t going to win this fight. He sits back down on the coffee table across from Sirius. They look at each other wildly for a moment, both strangely nervous. Sirius makes the first move. He reaches across and brings Remus to him. Remus leans in for the kiss, eager for it to be over so that he can prove to Sirius that there is absolutely no sexual tension between them. None at all.
Their lips meet and Remus tries to pull away but Sirius has his hand behind his neck and pulls him closer. Remus can’t help but be surprised at the force and passion behind the kiss. He feels as though Sirius is putting his whole being into this one kiss and it takes his breath away. He pulls away, gasping and stands up abruptly.
Sirius looks up at him through his eyelashes, his expression unreadable.
"I don’t feel the same, I’m sorry. You should go to bed," Remus says abruptly and walks out of the room. The hardwood groans under his weight and Sirius does the same once Remus is out of the room. He lies down on the couch once more, contemplating the kiss.
Upstairs, Remus is doing the same. He paces his room anxiously. The thought of sleep has gone completely and only thoughts of the kiss remain.
"What the hell was that?" he asks the empty room. "Just what the bloody hell was that?"
Silence is his only answer and he continues pacing. He had lied when he told Sirius after the kiss that he didn’t feel anything. There was a fluttering in his stomach. The kind of fluttering that was distinctly foreign and definitely not allowed. Especially when the fluttering was associated with your best friend. Actually, now that he reflects back on the kiss, the fluttering returns but has turned from light fluttering to painful nausea.
Remus groans and sits on the bed. He kicks off his loafers and reclines against the overstuffed pillows. His finger idly traces the bottom button of his shirt while he contemplates what just happened. He hadn’t been lying when he told Sirius that he didn’t feel the same. He didn’t think he did. How could he? He is perfectly straight. Not entirely straight, a nagging voice reminds him. There was that time after Hogwarts… You tried to blame it on the alcohol, but you liked it. You liked him.
Remus gives an agitated sigh. Every logical thought has been exiled from his head without his permission. The only thoughts that exist now are thoughts that Remus can clearly recognize as not being logical or rational. They consist mainly of kissing Sirius again or running out of the house, never to return. These seem to be the only two alternatives he can live with. Lying to Sirius again is not an option, he realizes. He cannot look into those grey eyes and tell him that his feelings are the same as they were when he was eleven; purely platonic. He shakes his head as he runs a hand through his sandy grey hair.
He also can’t imagine going back downstairs and confronting Sirius with the truth. He needs time, he decides. He’ll wake up tomorrow and it will all be a bad (or good, very good) dream. He takes off his shirt and is about to unbutton his trousers when there is a knock at the door.
"Er… yes?" he calls. His hands freeze on the buttons of his pants.
"Can I -" Sirius clears his throat. "Can I talk to you?"
"Yes, all right. Come in," Remus says before he realizes that he is half naked. Too late, Sirius is already opening the door.
"Hi." Sirius runs a hand through his long dark hair, snagging a tangle on the way down.
"Hello," Remus replies. He shifts on the bed to give Sirius room if he wants to sit down. Instead he leans in the doorway, his arms crossed.
"I’m sorry about earlier," Sirius starts. He sounds awkward, Remus thinks distractedly, As though he doesn’t have practice with apologies. "I honestly thought that there was something there. I didn’t mean to force anything on you."
"It’s fine," Remus replies coolly.
"All right," Sirius says and leaves the doorway, closing the door gently behind him.
Remus sits on the bed for a few moments, undecided. He knows Sirius deserves more than his indifference. He knows Sirius at least deserves the truth so he can do with it what he wants. Decided, he slides his feet down into his well worn loafers and grabs his shirt from the bed. He puts it on haphazardly, not bothering with the buttons.
He pauses inside his doorframe and tries to think of where Sirius might be. He decides to start with the bedroom and walks anxiously down the hallway.
He stares at the closed door in front of him, fist half raised to knock. A part of him is wondering what is taking him so damn long, while another part is urging him to walk away and not bother with it. Let sleeping dogs lie. Remus ignores the double entendre and is about to knock when the door opens swiftly towards him, hitting him first in the hand and then in the forehead. He makes an undignified yelping noise. Sirius does the same from the other side of the door.
"Good God, what the hell are you doing there?" Sirius shouts at him. Remus looks up at him, startled.
"I was coming to see you," he says weakly.
"Obviously," Sirius replies dryly. "What for?"
"I-" Remus starts. It really wasn’t supposed to go like this.
"Well, come in," Sirius says, motioning into his room. He takes a seat on the bed and watches Remus with a predatory gaze. Remus notices Sirius’ eyes go to his bare chest and he wraps his shirt around himself self-consciously. Sirius smirks from where he is sitting on the bed.
"So?" Sirius prompts.
Remus takes a moment to compose himself. He ignores Sirius’ curious looks and concentrates on what he wants to say.
"I was lying earlier," Remus starts.
"About what?" Sirius asks immediately.
"Would you let me finish, please?"
Sirius mumbles something, but nods and Remus continues.
"I wasn’t completely truthful when I told you after the…er…kiss that I didn’t feel anything, that I didn’t feel the same. I did feel something, but I’m not sure what it was and I’m not sure whether I just felt it because you did, if that makes sense." Remus realizes he’s babbling but doesn’t particularly care. He’s never cared less about being articulate in his life.
"You mean, you may have been influenced by my feelings to feel the same?" Sirius reiterates.
"Yes, precisely," Remus nods, infinitely glad that Sirius can understand him when no one else can.
"We could try again?" Sirius suggests. A blush starts on his cheeks. "Or, we could just-"
"No, we could try again," Remus interrupts a little too quickly, his voice a little uneven.
"All right," Sirius nods. He glances up at Remus from where he had been staring at the floor. Remus’ shirt has fallen open again while he was using his hands to gesture and Sirius smiles slightly.
Remus walks over to where Sirius is sitting on the bed. Sirius opens his legs slightly to allow Remus to stand in between them. For an instant their eyes meet before they close. Their lips meet like before, but this time it is not rushed nor is it calculated. Remus rests his palms on the bed on either side of Sirius and leans into the kiss. He reflects briefly that yes, he does in fact feel the same, before he gives into the feelings rushing into him. Visions of Sirius flash before his closed eyes. Young Sirius on the train, fourteen year old Sirius grinning at something Remus has said, fifteen year old Sirius looking sheepish after a prank, seventeen year old Sirius shirtless before diving into the lake and twenty year old Sirius blowing Remus a kiss from the train as a joke, his eyes alight with mischief.
He pulls away from Sirius and takes a step back. He looks down at him as if seeing him for the first time. He wonders briefly how he could have missed it before. He marvels that he didn’t realize it sooner. Sirius looks at him questioningly and Remus knows he is dying for approval.
Remus doesn’t say anything but leans towards Sirius again. He takes Sirius’ head in his hands and kisses him slowly on the mouth. He tastes the alcohol on his lips and something else that Remus can only describe as Sirius-ness. As he kisses Sirius, he becomes aware of hands snaking up his arms and taking off his unbuttoned shirt. He shakes his hands impatiently to get the shirt off. It falls to the floor without a sound.
Sirius sneaks his index fingers into Remus’ belt loops and pulls him towards him so they’re touching. Remus gives a soft moan when he feels Sirius hard against him. He sets to work on Sirius’ sweater, slowly rolling it up his body. They break the kiss momentarily so Remus can lift the sweater over his head. In that brief instant, he steals a glance at Sirius’ eyes. They are filled with lust which catalyses his own desire. He pulls Sirius to him roughly once the sweater is discarded on the floor. Sirius slides off the bed, rubbing against Remus on the way down. They both gasp at the sudden contact and grab at each other more fervently. Remus wonders vaguely how long exactly Sirius has been waiting for this moment and decides to make it worth the wait.
He walks into Sirius, forcing him backwards onto the bed once more. Sirius complies and scrambles onto the mattress before rolling onto his back. He grins at Remus and the latter is taken aback by how much Sirius’ face is transformed in this simple expression. He crawls up on the mattress after him and straddles Sirius, at first hesitantly. As if sensing his uncertainty, Sirius sits up slightly and beckons Remus to him while a smile appears once more. Sirius kisses his smooth jaw bone reassuringly down to his chin before lying down again against the dark red pillows. His confidence increasing, Remus kisses Sirius’ neck down his chest. When Sirius lets out a soft moan followed by a sigh, Remus is encouraged and incredibly aroused. He kisses across Sirius’ collarbone while thrusting against him through his trousers. Sirius thrusts back involuntarily until his patience leaves him and all he wants is Remus.
"Off off off," he moans softly and tugs at Remus’ pants.
"Off?" Remus raises an eyebrow and a slight smile tugs at his lips.
"Off," Sirius repeats and brings his hands down to his own trousers.
"Allow me," Remus says and unbuttons Sirius’ trousers hastily before unbuttoning his own. They drag the rest of their clothes off quickly, groaning when it doesn’t come off easily.
"Where were we?" Remus asks, panting at the effort of undressing in a hurry.
Sirius opens his arms and Remus crawls on top of him. His cheeks are flushed and Sirius grins wildly.
"Pass me my wand," Sirius says suddenly and motions towards the nightstand where his wand is sitting.
Remus complies and watches as Sirius murmurs a few words.
"It’s been a while," Sirius says as way of explanation. "Now it will be easier."
Remus catches his meaning and nods, thankful that Sirius has the kind of common sense that he sometimes lacks. He props himself up on his arms and looks down at Sirius, flushing with pleasure.
"I’ll be gentle," Remus says as he approaches Sirius’ entrance. Sirius reaches down to guide him and Remus wonders vaguely how many times Sirius has done this. He decides that it doesn’t matter. All that matters is here and now.
"No. Don’t be," Sirius pants. He grabs Remus’ arse and pulls him towards him roughly, into him. Remus gasps and then enters Sirius smoothly thanks to the earlier incantation. He thrusts again, harder, and then again and again until he loses himself in the sensation of being inside Sirius. Their panting and moans fill the room as they push against each other, anxious to come but wanting to prolong this feeling, this pleasure. Remus snakes his tongue across Sirius collarbone, leaving a hot, wet trail. He sucks on the hot skin he finds there, eager to taste all of Sirius. Adrenaline courses through his veins and he almost feels drunk except that this seems to be the only sure thing he’s done in a very long while. There’s no cloudiness, no inebriation like his first time, only startling clarity.
He feels Sirius’ hands slide down his arse to his thighs. He pulls him closer, buries his cock deeper inside.
"I want all of you," Sirius says in a low voice in between gasps for air. Remus can only moan in agreement. He thrusts slowly, the entire length of his cock going in and out, teasing them both. Remus doesn’t want to come before Sirius, but he realizes he is so very close that it might be unavoidable if Sirius doesn’t hurry.
He strokes Sirius in time with his own thrusts while Sirius bucks up against him. Remus looks down at Sirius, flushed with pleasure. His dark hair is again the pillow in long, elegant strands. His lips are parted in ecstasy, his eyes closed in concentration. He suddenly opens his eyes and his gaze meets Remus’, those eyes penetrating his being. Remus groans as he thrusts a final time and comes inside Sirius. The sensation of Remus coming proves to be too much for Sirius and he comes shortly after, panting and repeating Remus’ name in a whisper like an incantation.
Remus pulls out of Sirius slowly with a wet noise. They kiss again, a slow kiss not full of lust but of love, before Remus collapses beside Sirius.
"That was bloody amazing," Sirius murmurs. Remus nods in agreement. Sirius rolls on his side facing Remus. Remus watches as his gaze follows the length of his lovers body, taking in the disfigurement, the thin figure with ribs almost visible.
Remus suddenly feels self conscious and gets up from the bed under the pretence of getting Sirius’ wand again to do a cleaning spell. Sirius’ eyes follow his every movement from his place on the bed. He lays casual, his legs partially open, his hands resting behind his head. Remus glances over at him before performing the spell and feels a rush of admiration at the level of comfort Sirius has in his own body, even in the shape he’s in. Then again, he has always been like that, Remus reflects. When they were younger, Sirius was always the first one to strip and jump in the lake followed by James while Remus and Peter took much more time than was strictly necessary.
Remus pulls on his pants while sitting on the edge of the bed, arching his hips to slide them on. He reaches down to pick up his shirt when he feels a hand on his back. He looks inquisitively at Sirius.
"Just lie for a few more minutes," Sirius says before lying back down against the red velvet of the comforter.
Remus wavers, but only for a moment before crawling back over Sirius to his side of the bed. They don’t touch, but they don’t need to. After being alone for so many years, it’s enough to know someone is there, and that if you wanted to reach out and touch them, the touch would be reciprocated without hesitation.
"I asked you to humour me," Sirius says suddenly, "Not fuck me."
"I always was an overachiever," Remus says with a sigh. A smile appears first at the corners of his mouth and then spreads to the rest of his face. Sirius just smiles before rolling over and closing his eyes. Remus does the same, his fatigue suddenly returning. Just before he drifts to sleep he reflects that he did get what he wanted after all, and then some.