Actually writing! (Seeeeecret Postings)
Guys, I am so scared of this damn story I'm writing for 
black_circle_dj. I've been avoiding even thinking about it. But! Look at this! Someone please pat me on the head and make me tea?
Might keep adding to this throughout the night, if I manage to keep it up.
AFTER ALL THE SOUNDS HAVE SOUNDED
The wolf was restless. Claws scraped against the concrete floor as it paced the cramped confines of the cellar, a constant, low growl rumbling in its throat. Stretched at the foot of the steps, muzzle resting on its heavy paws, the great black dog watched, pale eyes wary. It knew better than to try to distract the wolf, if it didn't want to end the night tending its own wounds as well as its mate's.
The wolf hated the cellar, but there was no help for that. Gone were the nights of roaming the forest by moonlight, wrestling playfully amongst the underbrush and chasing shadows and each other until the dawn. They might have managed something, even so, if it weren't for the war. These days, the only safety to be found was behind locked doors and multiple warding spells in one's own home. And sometimes, even that was not enough. If they really wanted you dead, nowhere was safe.
The hours passed slowly. There were no windows in the cellar to gauge the passage of time, and even in the summer, the nights seemed long. The wolf paced. The dog waited.
* * *
"C'mon Moony; just a few more steps." Remus leaned heavily on his shoulder as Sirius flicked his wand, stripping back the covers before depositing the exhausted man unceremoniously onto the bed. He quickly checked Remus over of anything that might require medical attention, then drew the blankets back over the huddled form.
"Padfoot --" The name was no more than a raspy whisper.
Sirius turned away. "I'll just -- get your tea," he mumbled.
Standing in the kitchen, Sirius closed his eyes and gave a sigh of relief.
It wasn't just the moon; it was Remus. Sirius had always hated being on his own, but nowadays, those were the only moments he felt able to relax. Because whenever Remus was there, Sirius was always watching, always listening, always searching for clues. He didn't want to believe that Remus could be a traitor, but everything he said or did or didn't say seemed to point to it. Unexplained absences. Avoided discussions. The escalating rockiness of their relationship. Sirius knew he should confront him, but the time never felt right. Besides, if Remus realised he had been found out, he would leave, and then Sirius wouldn't be able to keep an eye on him. No, it was better to say nothing and keep watch.
He shook his head and put the kettle on.
Remus was asleep by the time Sirius set the steaming mug on the nightstand. His lips were pale and there were dark smudges under his eyes. The tea would be cold when he woke, but that wasn't Sirius's problem.
All Sirius wanted was a shower. After spending the night in canine form, he always felt like he had been wearing his clothes for a week. He stripped off, shrugged into his dressing gown, and headed for the bathroom. The hot water felt good, and helped to relax him a little more. For a moment, he considered having a wank, but he had been awake for nearly twenty-four hours, and he could not bear the thought of anything keeping him from his sleep one minute longer than necessary.
Back in the bedroom, curtains drawn against the gray drizzle of daylight, Sirius pulled on pants and a tee-shirt. He paused beside the bed, unable to help himself, looking down on the face of his sleeping lover as regret pinched at his heart.
"What's happened to us, Moony?" he whispered.
It had been so good, once upon a time. Their friendship. Their love. The only perfect thing in a world of chaos and danger. Moony and Padfoot. Remus and Sirius. Forever.
Foolishness. A childish dream. He knew better now. When things had begun to crumble in the last year, he had tried to deny it at first, but now his eyes were open. "Perfect" and "forever" were fantasy words, and while he might never be able to stop loving Remus, at least there would be no shock or surprise when the final betrayal came.
Not today, though. No one could commit treachery in their sleep. Remus, weak and exhausted from the moon, was harmless. It was safe to love him in such moments.
With impulsive tenderness, Sirius reached out a hand to stroke the honey-brown hair of the sleeping man who still owned him, heart and soul. Then he took the red-and-gold afghan from the foot of the bed and went into the sitting room. The sofa was not the most comfortable place in the world to sleep, but sometimes lying in their bed with Remus in his arms as if everything was still right with the world was more than Sirius could bear.
* * *
It often took Remus a few days to fully recover from the moon. Weakness, chills, exhaustion, and a sore throat due to the screaming that accompanied his painful transformations were his usual symptoms, so Sirius was not surprised to find Remus in bed when he returned around teatime from an overnight mission in Yorkshire two days later. He closed the bedroom door softly, kept quiet, and let Remus sleep.
Sirius woke the following morning to a hand on his shoulder. He blinked and sat up on the sofa to see Remus, still looking pale, dressed in inconspicuous Muggle clothing, an umbrella tucked under his arm and a knapsack over his shoulder.
"I have to go out," he rasped. "Might be a few days. I just wanted to let you know. I'll see you when I get back, all right?"
"Yeah." Sirius nodded stupidly, still only half awake. He didn't quite have time to react properly when Remus bent down to kiss him briefly before turning toward the door to the flat. "See you," he said belatedly as the door closed behind Remus.
Sirius wandered into the kitchen, wondering what Remus had been called away to this time. He could try asking Dumbledore or Lily if they knew anything, but they were unlikely to tell him if they did. Paranoia had become rampant, and the fewer people who knew details of the Order's activities, even within the Order itself, the safer everyone was. But Sirius always worried when Remus might be in danger. It was easier than worrying that Remus was the one putting everyone else in danger.
He had barely put the kettle on, and taken out the bread and jam for toast, when he heard the key scrape in the lock. Remus must have forgotten something.
"Sirius?"
Something in Remus's voice made Sirius's belly clench, and he rushed into the sitting room to find Remus, white as parchment, swaying on his feet, umbrella and knapsack lying forgotten where he had dropped them.
Sirius's brows drew together in concern. "Moony, are you --?"
"Sirius, owl Dumbledore," Remus mumbled. "Tell him I can't --"
His eyes rolled back and he crumbled. Sirius only just managed to catch him before he hit to floor.
"Moony!"
There was no response from the limp form in his arms. Sirius swallowed his panic and swiftly began checking Remus's vital signs, as Madam Pomfrey had taught him to do. He was breathing. The quick, panting breaths matched his shallow, rapid heart rate, and his skin was hot to the touch. Sirius exhaled shakily.
"Wake up, Moony," he murmured, gently settling Remus's head in his lap.
After a moment, Remus's brown eyes blinked open. He looked up at Sirius's relieved smile in confusion.
"What --?"
"You fainted, Moony."
Remus frowned. "It's not funny."
Sirius's grin widened. "It is a bit. You're never ill. Can you stand? You're going back to bed and it will be easier if I don't have to carry you."
Between the two of them, they managed to get Remus to his feet, though Sirius ended up supporting most of his weight. He waited through Remus's momentary dizziness, then helped him into the bedroom. By the time Sirius had sat him on the edge of the bed and knelt to remove his shoes, Remus was shivering. Sirius helped him out of his jacket and denims and tucked him firmly into bed.
It was only then that Sirius realised the kettle was shrieking on the hob, and he hurried into the kitchen to pour a mug of Remus's special soothing, strengthening tea -- and as an afterthought, one for himself as well. He added a large spoonful of honey to Remus's, recalling the raspy sound of his voice. While he was waiting for the tea to steep, he wrote a brief message to Dumbledore saying that Remus was ill and would not be available for missions for a few days at least. After shooing his owl, Midnight, out the kitchen window, Sirius scooped up both mugs and carried them back to the bedroom.
Remus lay on his back, eyes closed, mouth slightly open, chest rising and falling every few seconds. Sirius did not think he was asleep.
"I brought you tea," he said, sitting on the bed beside him. "You'll have to sit up to drink it."
With no more than a mild groan of complaint, Remus obeyed. He held the mug in both hands, head bowed, breathing in the fragrant steam.
"Can I get you anything else?"
"No, I'll be all right."
"When was the last time you ate anything?"
Remus shrugged. "Yesterday sometime."
Sirius shook his head, getting up. "No wonder you fainted. I'm going to fix you some toast and broth."
"You don't have to mother me," Remus said quietly, not looking up from his mug. "I know you have more important things to do."
"No," said Sirius, flashing him a smile. "I checked my schedule, and it said everything is cancelled until Moony is feeling better."
Remus glanced up at that, looking surprised. "Oh. You don't have to do that."
"It's fine," Sirius told him, feeling a little surprised himself. It was the sort of thing he might have said before everything had started to unravel. "Someone's got to look after you."
black_circle_dj. I've been avoiding even thinking about it. But! Look at this! Someone please pat me on the head and make me tea?
Might keep adding to this throughout the night, if I manage to keep it up.
AFTER ALL THE SOUNDS HAVE SOUNDED
The wolf was restless. Claws scraped against the concrete floor as it paced the cramped confines of the cellar, a constant, low growl rumbling in its throat. Stretched at the foot of the steps, muzzle resting on its heavy paws, the great black dog watched, pale eyes wary. It knew better than to try to distract the wolf, if it didn't want to end the night tending its own wounds as well as its mate's.
The wolf hated the cellar, but there was no help for that. Gone were the nights of roaming the forest by moonlight, wrestling playfully amongst the underbrush and chasing shadows and each other until the dawn. They might have managed something, even so, if it weren't for the war. These days, the only safety to be found was behind locked doors and multiple warding spells in one's own home. And sometimes, even that was not enough. If they really wanted you dead, nowhere was safe.
The hours passed slowly. There were no windows in the cellar to gauge the passage of time, and even in the summer, the nights seemed long. The wolf paced. The dog waited.
* * *
"C'mon Moony; just a few more steps." Remus leaned heavily on his shoulder as Sirius flicked his wand, stripping back the covers before depositing the exhausted man unceremoniously onto the bed. He quickly checked Remus over of anything that might require medical attention, then drew the blankets back over the huddled form.
"Padfoot --" The name was no more than a raspy whisper.
Sirius turned away. "I'll just -- get your tea," he mumbled.
Standing in the kitchen, Sirius closed his eyes and gave a sigh of relief.
It wasn't just the moon; it was Remus. Sirius had always hated being on his own, but nowadays, those were the only moments he felt able to relax. Because whenever Remus was there, Sirius was always watching, always listening, always searching for clues. He didn't want to believe that Remus could be a traitor, but everything he said or did or didn't say seemed to point to it. Unexplained absences. Avoided discussions. The escalating rockiness of their relationship. Sirius knew he should confront him, but the time never felt right. Besides, if Remus realised he had been found out, he would leave, and then Sirius wouldn't be able to keep an eye on him. No, it was better to say nothing and keep watch.
He shook his head and put the kettle on.
Remus was asleep by the time Sirius set the steaming mug on the nightstand. His lips were pale and there were dark smudges under his eyes. The tea would be cold when he woke, but that wasn't Sirius's problem.
All Sirius wanted was a shower. After spending the night in canine form, he always felt like he had been wearing his clothes for a week. He stripped off, shrugged into his dressing gown, and headed for the bathroom. The hot water felt good, and helped to relax him a little more. For a moment, he considered having a wank, but he had been awake for nearly twenty-four hours, and he could not bear the thought of anything keeping him from his sleep one minute longer than necessary.
Back in the bedroom, curtains drawn against the gray drizzle of daylight, Sirius pulled on pants and a tee-shirt. He paused beside the bed, unable to help himself, looking down on the face of his sleeping lover as regret pinched at his heart.
"What's happened to us, Moony?" he whispered.
It had been so good, once upon a time. Their friendship. Their love. The only perfect thing in a world of chaos and danger. Moony and Padfoot. Remus and Sirius. Forever.
Foolishness. A childish dream. He knew better now. When things had begun to crumble in the last year, he had tried to deny it at first, but now his eyes were open. "Perfect" and "forever" were fantasy words, and while he might never be able to stop loving Remus, at least there would be no shock or surprise when the final betrayal came.
Not today, though. No one could commit treachery in their sleep. Remus, weak and exhausted from the moon, was harmless. It was safe to love him in such moments.
With impulsive tenderness, Sirius reached out a hand to stroke the honey-brown hair of the sleeping man who still owned him, heart and soul. Then he took the red-and-gold afghan from the foot of the bed and went into the sitting room. The sofa was not the most comfortable place in the world to sleep, but sometimes lying in their bed with Remus in his arms as if everything was still right with the world was more than Sirius could bear.
* * *
It often took Remus a few days to fully recover from the moon. Weakness, chills, exhaustion, and a sore throat due to the screaming that accompanied his painful transformations were his usual symptoms, so Sirius was not surprised to find Remus in bed when he returned around teatime from an overnight mission in Yorkshire two days later. He closed the bedroom door softly, kept quiet, and let Remus sleep.
Sirius woke the following morning to a hand on his shoulder. He blinked and sat up on the sofa to see Remus, still looking pale, dressed in inconspicuous Muggle clothing, an umbrella tucked under his arm and a knapsack over his shoulder.
"I have to go out," he rasped. "Might be a few days. I just wanted to let you know. I'll see you when I get back, all right?"
"Yeah." Sirius nodded stupidly, still only half awake. He didn't quite have time to react properly when Remus bent down to kiss him briefly before turning toward the door to the flat. "See you," he said belatedly as the door closed behind Remus.
Sirius wandered into the kitchen, wondering what Remus had been called away to this time. He could try asking Dumbledore or Lily if they knew anything, but they were unlikely to tell him if they did. Paranoia had become rampant, and the fewer people who knew details of the Order's activities, even within the Order itself, the safer everyone was. But Sirius always worried when Remus might be in danger. It was easier than worrying that Remus was the one putting everyone else in danger.
He had barely put the kettle on, and taken out the bread and jam for toast, when he heard the key scrape in the lock. Remus must have forgotten something.
"Sirius?"
Something in Remus's voice made Sirius's belly clench, and he rushed into the sitting room to find Remus, white as parchment, swaying on his feet, umbrella and knapsack lying forgotten where he had dropped them.
Sirius's brows drew together in concern. "Moony, are you --?"
"Sirius, owl Dumbledore," Remus mumbled. "Tell him I can't --"
His eyes rolled back and he crumbled. Sirius only just managed to catch him before he hit to floor.
"Moony!"
There was no response from the limp form in his arms. Sirius swallowed his panic and swiftly began checking Remus's vital signs, as Madam Pomfrey had taught him to do. He was breathing. The quick, panting breaths matched his shallow, rapid heart rate, and his skin was hot to the touch. Sirius exhaled shakily.
"Wake up, Moony," he murmured, gently settling Remus's head in his lap.
After a moment, Remus's brown eyes blinked open. He looked up at Sirius's relieved smile in confusion.
"What --?"
"You fainted, Moony."
Remus frowned. "It's not funny."
Sirius's grin widened. "It is a bit. You're never ill. Can you stand? You're going back to bed and it will be easier if I don't have to carry you."
Between the two of them, they managed to get Remus to his feet, though Sirius ended up supporting most of his weight. He waited through Remus's momentary dizziness, then helped him into the bedroom. By the time Sirius had sat him on the edge of the bed and knelt to remove his shoes, Remus was shivering. Sirius helped him out of his jacket and denims and tucked him firmly into bed.
It was only then that Sirius realised the kettle was shrieking on the hob, and he hurried into the kitchen to pour a mug of Remus's special soothing, strengthening tea -- and as an afterthought, one for himself as well. He added a large spoonful of honey to Remus's, recalling the raspy sound of his voice. While he was waiting for the tea to steep, he wrote a brief message to Dumbledore saying that Remus was ill and would not be available for missions for a few days at least. After shooing his owl, Midnight, out the kitchen window, Sirius scooped up both mugs and carried them back to the bedroom.
Remus lay on his back, eyes closed, mouth slightly open, chest rising and falling every few seconds. Sirius did not think he was asleep.
"I brought you tea," he said, sitting on the bed beside him. "You'll have to sit up to drink it."
With no more than a mild groan of complaint, Remus obeyed. He held the mug in both hands, head bowed, breathing in the fragrant steam.
"Can I get you anything else?"
"No, I'll be all right."
"When was the last time you ate anything?"
Remus shrugged. "Yesterday sometime."
Sirius shook his head, getting up. "No wonder you fainted. I'm going to fix you some toast and broth."
"You don't have to mother me," Remus said quietly, not looking up from his mug. "I know you have more important things to do."
"No," said Sirius, flashing him a smile. "I checked my schedule, and it said everything is cancelled until Moony is feeling better."
Remus glanced up at that, looking surprised. "Oh. You don't have to do that."
"It's fine," Sirius told him, feeling a little surprised himself. It was the sort of thing he might have said before everything had started to unravel. "Someone's got to look after you."