Title: Long Not for the Dawn
Author:
thistleroseWritten for:
krabappleRating: R
Summary: After everyone else has gone to bed, Sirius and Remus have a private gift exchange.
A/N: So many thank yous to my wonderful beta readers,
mellafe and
semielliptical. I know it's a little after the fact, but I hope you had a wonderful holiday,
krabapple. *snuggle*
Kneeling on the floor of his dimly lit bedroom, Sirius spread his presents on the coverlet and examined each one. There was a bottle of Glenlivet from Alastor Moody; that wouldn't last long, he thought with a wry smile. A knitted scarf and matching socks from Molly. It had been kind of her to think of him. Muggle books from Arthur. They'd help pass the time. Playing cards from the twins. The jacks have dirty mouths, Fred had whispered. So, be careful who you play with.
Sirius shuffled the deck idly.
"The jack of hearts is a fucking twat," a voice said above the flutter.
"I heard that," said another.
A third grumbled, "Shut up, the pair of you. Where are we? And what the bloody hell time is it?"
"Time for you to shut up and get back on your-"
Sirius slipped the deck back into its box and dropped it onto the bed.
He picked up the balled up socks that Crookshanks had left by his door while he'd been at lunch. They probably belonged to Ron or one of the twins; he'd see about returning them tomorrow morning.
Kreacher had actually given him a lump of coal, thus carrying out the threat his dear, departed mum had made nearly twenty years ago. Sirius held the thing in his palm and closed his fingers around it briefly. The little toe-rag should have known better than to give him ammunition. Or maybe he reckoned on Sirius's restraint, given his guests.
Sirius considered the coal. It was so dark against his pale skin. If not for the weight of it and the chill, it would have seemed like a hole.
A hole to what?
Azkaban, Sirius thought with a shudder. For an instant, he could almost taste the icy spray, and he bit his lips to make it go away. Seemingly of its own, the coal fell from his hand. He heard it hit the floor, heard it roll and then stop, but he did not look to see where.
Instead, he turned to his last present, Remus's amber bead on its worn leather thong.
A necklace? Sirius had said, eyebrows raised, as he'd lifted it from the tissue paper earlier.
Not a necklace. A charm.
A necklace, Sirius had snickered. What do you think I am?
I'd tell you, but there are children present. It's a charm. From Greece. It has no magical properties. I picked it up in Crete, the day before I returned to England. The thought of trading sunlight and beaches for rain wasn't appealing, so I wanted something…bright to take with me.
Sirius fingered the soft leather and then the smooth bead, which he imagined was the same color as the sun as it sank into a wine-colored sea. He rather liked the thought of Remus witnessing such a sunset, standing with his feet in the wet sand, briny wind in his face. There would be white birds, and boats, and clumps of purple seaweed.
Sirius liked the thought, but at the same time he felt the walls of his own world clench around him. They butted his shoulders and elbows, stole his air, and he wondered as he hugged his arms and dropped his face to his knees, how long it would be before his world was too small to move in at all.
He knew that Remus was back when the walls sighed and unclenched, and he was able to unfold his limbs and lift his head.
For the doorway, Remus said with amusement, "Were you praying?"
"Yes," said Sirius, rubbing sore knees. "To my pile of loot. How was your mission?"
"Short. Easy. Mundungus was actually where he said he'd be." Remus closed the door, walked around Sirius and, with a grunt, lowered himself to the edge of the bed.
"Are you hurt?" said Sirius, eyeing him suspiciously. There didn't seem to be any hex burns on the dark overcoat, and he was no paler than usual.
Remus grimaced. "Just stiff. My joints and the cold and damp do not get along."
"You sound old."
Remus shrugged. "It's snowing again. It's rather nice. Snow on Christmas."
"D'you want some wine?"
"Not just now."
"D'you want to take off your clothes and get into my bed?"
"Do you think we ought to, with Molly and everyone here?"
"That's not an answer to my question," said Sirius.
Remus flushed and glanced at his knees, which made him look younger. "I thought the question was rhetorical."
"Meaning?" Sirius put his hands on Remus's knees and spread his legs.
"Rhetorical? It means-"
"I know what it means."
"Of course I want to get into bed with you," said Remus, covering Sirius's hands with his own. His fingertips were chapped and cold. "But I don't think it's a good idea, right now. Besides, I've got another present for you."
"I've got another one for you, too. Presents, then a shag?"
"That depends," said Remus, lacing his fingers with Sirius's, "on how well I like my present." He leaned down and Sirius met his lips, which were as cold and chapped as his fingertips, but his tongue was hot. It was like a pool of amber sunlight and it melted things in Sirius that he hadn't realized were frozen.
"Shag first?" he suggested, shifting so that he pressed against Remus's leg. He was already half-hard. "Your present's really not that exciting. I made it myself. It can wait."
"Let me see it." He tugged one of his hands free, caught Sirius's hair, and tilted his head back. "You can wait."
"You're a sodding bastard, you know," said Sirius pleasantly.
Remus cupped Sirius between his legs, eliciting a hiss. "You can wait," he said, smiling.
Sirius pulled away. "Fine. Sit, then." He withdrew his wand from his pocket. "Accio present!" A big, crinkled paper bag squeezed itself out from under the bed and flopped against Sirius's free hand. "Happy Christmas, Moony."
"What is…? Oh."
"I didn't wrap it."
"That's all right. It's-"
"Awful?"
"I was going to say," Remus said as he ran his fingers over a red velvet sleeve, "these were curtains in a former life, weren't they?"
"From the study, yeah. What d'you think?" Sirius felt a pang of apprehension. He'd know if Remus didn't like the dress robes, now matter how polite he tried to be.
"I'm going to feel like Scarlett O'Hara every time I wear these," Remus said, shaking them out and studying them at arm's length. They were a rich wine-red, almost purple in the gloom, and the trim was gold.
"Who?" said Sirius, confused.
"Never mind. Did you make these? They're well-done."
"It's an easy enough spell," said Sirius.
"Keeping seams straight takes concentration."
"Until quite recently," said Sirius with a wry twist of his lips, "there hasn't been much going on here to break my concentration. What do you think? Are they something you'll wear? I know they're a bit fancy, but you ought to have some nice things. Reckon they'll look better on you than they did on the windows-"
He'd have gone on, but Remus, holding the robes against his chest, leaned down and put his hand over Sirius's mouth. "I love them," he said. "I do."
"Really?"
"Really. I'll wear them. I promise. In fact…" He sat back and started to unbutton his coat.
"My present," said Sirius, rising to help Remus. He jerked the scarf away and then, because he was tired of being teased, he brushed aside Remus's hands and tore at the buttons himself.
"This wasn't-" Remus began.
"Shh." Sirius kissed his mouth. He yanked the last button so hard that it came off in his hand. He tossed it aside, peeled the coat away from Remus's shoulders, and gripped the bottom of his jumper. "Don't wanna wait."
Remus rumbled in his throat and didn't try to pull away. A moment later it wouldn't have mattered if he'd tried because by then Sirius had his jumper off and had pushed him back against the blanket. "Door?" he suggested, and lay still while Sirius got up to lock it and cast an Imperturbability Charm.
"Books? And-" he started to protest after Sirius had taken off his own shirt and climbed back on top of him. "Arthur's books? And your other presents?"
"That's my Moony," Sirius chuckled. "Concerned about books at a time like this."
"Well, I don't want them torn."
Sirius wet the tip of his index finger with his tongue and began to draw slow circles around Remus's left nipple. It hardened almost immediately. Sirius ground his hips against Remus's. His nipple wasn't the only part hardening. "Are we going to be so wild that we tear books?"
"I hope so." Remus's voice was slightly strained.
"Do books turn you on?" teased Sirius. "I always suspected."
"You turn me on." Remus bucked against him, and after that there was no more talking - at least from either of them. At one point Sirius thought he heard one of the jacks say, "Is someone having sex? I swear, it sounds like sex-" But he couldn't be sure because by then he was moving inside Remus, and there was black hair everywhere, clinging to sweaty skin and getting tangled around wrists and fingers, and Remus was moaning and nothing else mattered at all.
Sirius woke to find Remus's Christmas present bunched beneath his cheek, and his hair being tugged gently. "What're you-"
"Shh," Remus said in his ear. "There's too much hair and I can't see what I'm doing. Don't move."
Sirius lay still. His gaze flickered to the window. The curtains had been left half-parted, and he could see the snow swirling on the roofs of the neighboring houses. His body felt very light, as if something in side it had come loose or been purged from it. Or perhaps he was simply very tired.
Remus's fingers moved along his neck and collarbone, then he felt something cool and smooth on his skin.
"There," Remus said.
"Is it the necklace?"
"The charm, yes."
"What's my other present? Matching earrings."
Remus gave the amber bead a slight yank, choking the smirk from his lips. "I was going to take you out, actually. There's a park not far from here. There'll be no one about, what with the snow and the holiday." Remus touched his cheek, and Sirius allowed his face to be turned.
Out. He'd be able to feel the air move against his skin, snow and mud churn under his paws. There had to be something left inside him, something that tightened like a knot.
"That's why you said presents first, then shagging." He tried to keep the yearning out of his tone.
"Yes," Remus said. The shadows on his face moved as he smiled. He let go of the bead and began to stroke Sirius's hair. "But you have this way of mucking up my plans."
"It is my way. All the same, I'd rather shag you than tromp about in the snow."
"We could've done both," said Remus. "But now we're naked. And tired." As though he thought that Sirius needed evidence, he yawned.
Sirius yawned too. "Could still, y'know. Not like we can't get up and get dressed." He bent his elbow and started to push against the blanket, but the effort left him breathless and he fell back against the velvet. "All right, maybe we're old and feeble."
"You didn't seem feeble a little while ago."
"No," Sirius reflected. "That was bloody brilliant." He closed his eyes. "Let's just rest for a bit. What time is it?"
"I don't know," Remus said. "Late."
"But it won't be dawn for a long time." The plaintive note snuck in.
"No, we have a few hours. We can sleep a little. The dawn will wait."
"That's pretty. Poetical."
"You're pretty."
"Am not." And then he was asleep again, and for once, the dawn waited.
12/31/06