Ficlet; Sirius/Remus, R
Title: Swarms
Pairing: Sirius/Remus
W/C: 320
Rating: R
A/N: This one is dark, guys. Written for day four at dogdaysofsummer.
Once, when they were younger, back before death and blood and heartshed, they’d sat near the lake while the mosquitoes swarmed, vicious and biting. Sirius had been the only one who’d seen them coming (in a great cloud, like worry, like war); he’d shouted a warning too late. Peter, with the thickest layers, was bitten the worst-Remus, with the thickest skin, complained the least. All four of them cursed the bitter fate that had led them to be left as mosquito food, though in the end, three of them didn’t much mind (James had Lily to soothe his bites, and Remus and Sirius had each other).
War changes everything-even the most mundane curses against fate, even the easiest summer afternoons and the muggiest days and the most basic responses of humanity to pain-
On the battlefield there was a cloud again, darker, more vicious, that Sirius saw before Remus could turn. Gasping, he jumped, and they rolled together, and Sirius thanked every star in the godforsaken sky that this had been the time when his warning was fast enough.
Later, when they made it home, Sirius couldn’t close the door fast enough; they commenced in something more urgent then sex, a mixture of caress and shove and healing spells. “I hate you,” Sirius whispered, “I hate being scared,” and Remus bit him then, hard enough to bruise. They raked nails down every surface they could reach, like armor, like protection-like if they broke each other first, no one else could be granted the privilege.
When Remus stumbled from the bed before they could get to the finale (with pushing and bright lights and ohohpleaseplease), Sirius followed, steadying his tawny head as he threw up violently into the toilet. They curled together on the bathroom floor, two naked boys after their first battle, and tried to forget about green lights and grey skies (and mosquitoes, swarming the bodies).
Pairing: Sirius/Remus
W/C: 320
Rating: R
A/N: This one is dark, guys. Written for day four at dogdaysofsummer.
Once, when they were younger, back before death and blood and heartshed, they’d sat near the lake while the mosquitoes swarmed, vicious and biting. Sirius had been the only one who’d seen them coming (in a great cloud, like worry, like war); he’d shouted a warning too late. Peter, with the thickest layers, was bitten the worst-Remus, with the thickest skin, complained the least. All four of them cursed the bitter fate that had led them to be left as mosquito food, though in the end, three of them didn’t much mind (James had Lily to soothe his bites, and Remus and Sirius had each other).
War changes everything-even the most mundane curses against fate, even the easiest summer afternoons and the muggiest days and the most basic responses of humanity to pain-
On the battlefield there was a cloud again, darker, more vicious, that Sirius saw before Remus could turn. Gasping, he jumped, and they rolled together, and Sirius thanked every star in the godforsaken sky that this had been the time when his warning was fast enough.
Later, when they made it home, Sirius couldn’t close the door fast enough; they commenced in something more urgent then sex, a mixture of caress and shove and healing spells. “I hate you,” Sirius whispered, “I hate being scared,” and Remus bit him then, hard enough to bruise. They raked nails down every surface they could reach, like armor, like protection-like if they broke each other first, no one else could be granted the privilege.
When Remus stumbled from the bed before they could get to the finale (with pushing and bright lights and ohohpleaseplease), Sirius followed, steadying his tawny head as he threw up violently into the toilet. They curled together on the bathroom floor, two naked boys after their first battle, and tried to forget about green lights and grey skies (and mosquitoes, swarming the bodies).