FIC: The Expedition for midnight_birth
Title: The Expedition
Recipient: midnight_birth
Rating: PG-13 / R
Pairing(s): Remus/Sirius
Warning(s): some naughty British language, some violence, some sexual behaviour, a bit of angst.
Summary: In which Remus has a fear of heights, Sirius doesn't know when to quit and a discovery is made in the art of avoiding detention.
Remus Lupin is wet.
Not in the figurative sense like Sirius is currently screaming down at him. It is true that Remus is a little scared of heights and falling from them and the possibility of not passing his NEWTs. He faces his fears quite often though, so that is not it.
The fact is that Remus Lupin is wet in a very literal sense. There is rain in his hair and rain dripping down his nose and even rain in his eyelashes when he blinks. He is wet and cold and miserable and if there is one place he wants to be right now it is not standing on a window ledge in the Astronomy Tower.
"Get up here!" Sirius cries, his voice almost disappearing into the howling wind. "Bloody wet blanket."
"Feel like one," Remus mutters lowly, but tries his best to pull himself up onto the next ledge. He is only too aware, however, that if he overbalanced right now his next stop would be the ground hundreds of feet below. Sirius, however, seems unaware as he seems to be hanging by his ankles from the roof.
"Good job, Moony," he caws. "Just a few more feet and we can get to the task at hand."
"What-?" Remus begins, but his foot slips and he has no breath to speak as he clings on to safety. He, miraculously, rights himself and looks up at his friend with suspicion. "What do you mean the task at hand? I thought we were just on an expedition."
"Silly Moony!" Sirius tutts and Remus knows he doesn't need Sirius to tell him. When had they ever been 'just on an expedition’? "We are not merely on an expedition. Every expedition has a purpose and this, this expedition has the most splendid purpose of all!"
"And that would be?" Remus enquires, before reaching up to climb onto the roof. He knows he will regret asking, but it is always useful to know the details so he can incorporate it into his excuses to McGonagall.
He finally draws himself up onto the roof and restrains himself to stop from whooping in joy with some difficulty. He looks across and winces at the maniacal glint in Sirius' eye. This is not going to be good news.
But Sirius just taps the side of his nose. "No no no, Mr Perfect Prefect," he sings mockingly. "The less you know the less you can disapprove."
"Then I'll assume it's something terrible," Remus says stubbornly. He looks at the point behind Sirius' shoulder where James is no doubt hiding and frowns. There is no sound from the empty space.
"Come on, Moony," Sirius says. "It's going to be brilliant. I promise you'll enjoy it immensely."
Remus frowns. He highly doubts it. If it wasn't such a long and dangerous climb down he would be retreating right now, back to his warm bed and his hot chocolate and his copy of Anna Karenina. Instead, he puffs out a lungful of air that turns to mist before him and pushes his sopping fringe from his eyes.
And Sirius knows he's won. He grins and gives a loud, boisterous shout and swings his legs madly over the edge of the guttering. Remus turns away, because it's a very long way down and he doesn't want to fall.
"Okay, Mr Prongs!" Sirius calls, when his private celebration is over. He looks over his shoulder and then stands awkwardly, spinning around in a wild circle. Remus holds his breath and closes his eyes. "Prongs?"
"Present!" a disembodied voice cries and a bowl appears, held by a pair of hands which appear to have been severed from their body at the wrists. Sirius grins and takes it, holding it before him with triumph. His eyes glint again, the glint of a madman.
And Remus recognises it.
"Padfoot," he breathes, standing up shakily, forgetting for a moment about the hundred of feet of air and the very solid ground below. "Padfoot, you can't!"
And Sirius keeps grinning. "It's not got you in it, Moony," he says earnestly, as if this is all that matters. And maybe, to him, it is. "It's just loads of other stuff. Like him wanking over Lily and snuggling his teddy and getting undies from his mother. I promise."
Remus glares and his mind is made up. "Padfoot," he growls. "If you dare do anything but return it to him as you found it, I will-."
"Relax!" Sirius cries, stepping closer. "And sit down before you faint. I know you hate heights."
"Padfoot," Remus replies, doing as he is told because he really, really does hate heights. "Please."
"Merlin!" Sirius says. "If I knew you were going to be such a bloody girl about it, I would have left you with Annie Karacha."
"Anna Karenina," Remus supplies, mainly out of habit. "And I'm not being a girl, Padfoot. Just put it back. If he finds out, well-. We've done enough against him. The- The- Before was enough!"
"He had your badge taken away," Sirius says coldly. "And he's a greasy git. And I don't care! He deserved it!"
And suddenly Remus is standing again and he feels like his body is on fire and he's walking across the tiles as if they are the normal floor. And Sirius is backing away, looking slightly afraid. And Remus doesn't care because he has to stop it because it's gone far enough. And Sirius laughs and Remus' fist connects with his cheek.
There is a moment where there is nothing but silence. Remus' fist feels oddly heavy and Sirius' cheek goes pale and then blushes red and their eyes lock.
Sirius grabs his head and Remus kicks at his legs and they end up laid on the roof, rolling over and throwing punches which never hit their target and growling and muttering every swear word and every curse they know.
When Remus comes to his senses, everything suddenly becomes very real. Sirius is bleeding, his blood dripping into Remus' hair as he hovers over him. They're very close. Remus' can feel Sirius' warm, wet breath on his face. He knows he should move away, because he's about to embarrass himself. But Sirius is a beater and he's made of heavy muscle and he isn't allowing Remus to move an inch.
"Padfoot," he growls and Sirius' eyes flash with the same manically glint as always and he leans even closer. His lips nearly brushing against Remus' as he speaks and Remus can't suppress a little whimper leaving his lips.
Sirius leans even closer, and his lips touch Remus'. They're dry and chapped and rough. When he opens his mouth slightly, Remus can taste blood. It doesn't matter though, because he's kissing back. His hands are gripping Sirius' hair, have been since he can remember, and his nose really must be as large as Sirius always teases because it's getting in the way, so he shifts his face slightly, trying to get his teeth out of the equation, but he only succeeds in digging them into Sirius' lip.
Sirius' hands are everywhere. Remus can feel one crawling up under his shirt. The air is cold and damp and Sirius' hand even more so. It leaves goosebumps in its wake but Remus isn't sure if that's just the temperature or something else. The other hand is fiddling with his trousers and Remus doesn't understand why until his fly springs open and he moans into Sirius' mouth, pulling him even closer.
They're so caught up that they don't hear the catcalls and awkward coughing and then shouting. It's only when a hand appears and pulls Sirius off him that he even remembers that they are not alone.
And then it becomes all too apparent. It's all too apparent that he is laid on the roof of the Astronomy Tower covered in cuts and bruises and bite marks with his hair thoroughly dishevelled and his trousers lying open.
McGonagall clears her throat and averts her eyes, and Remus hastily pulls at his fly. "Erm," he mutters, flushing crimson and looking desperately for a quick escape route. "I can explain!"
McGonagall's lip twitches at that and she rolls her eyes almost affectionately. "I'm sure I do not want to know the details, Mr Lupin," she says crossly. "Now, why don't you and Mr Black make your way back to your dormitory and I shall keep the loss of points to the minimum twenty each."
Remus nods, eyes averted. Sirius is already making his way off the roof, down an ornate stairway that Remus has no doubt McGonagall has transfigured. Remus follows him, trying to hide a rather distinct limp and the fact that his face has turned a shade of purple too bright to be within human understanding.
"Well," Sirius says, seemingly annoyingly calm and happy. "If I knew that was all I had to do to avoid a detention, I would have started kissing you long ago."
Remus does not dare to meet his eye, instead looking at the ripped lace on his right shoe with interest as they walk through the fire lit common room. He only looks up when Sirius wraps a thick arm around his waist and pulls him closer, placing a sloppy kiss on his cheek.
"Give my love to Annie Karacha," he mutters. "I'll be up in a bit."
Remus watches him limp towards the shower with a small smile and decides not to correct him just this once.
Recipient: midnight_birth
Rating: PG-13 / R
Pairing(s): Remus/Sirius
Warning(s): some naughty British language, some violence, some sexual behaviour, a bit of angst.
Summary: In which Remus has a fear of heights, Sirius doesn't know when to quit and a discovery is made in the art of avoiding detention.
Remus Lupin is wet.
Not in the figurative sense like Sirius is currently screaming down at him. It is true that Remus is a little scared of heights and falling from them and the possibility of not passing his NEWTs. He faces his fears quite often though, so that is not it.
The fact is that Remus Lupin is wet in a very literal sense. There is rain in his hair and rain dripping down his nose and even rain in his eyelashes when he blinks. He is wet and cold and miserable and if there is one place he wants to be right now it is not standing on a window ledge in the Astronomy Tower.
"Get up here!" Sirius cries, his voice almost disappearing into the howling wind. "Bloody wet blanket."
"Feel like one," Remus mutters lowly, but tries his best to pull himself up onto the next ledge. He is only too aware, however, that if he overbalanced right now his next stop would be the ground hundreds of feet below. Sirius, however, seems unaware as he seems to be hanging by his ankles from the roof.
"Good job, Moony," he caws. "Just a few more feet and we can get to the task at hand."
"What-?" Remus begins, but his foot slips and he has no breath to speak as he clings on to safety. He, miraculously, rights himself and looks up at his friend with suspicion. "What do you mean the task at hand? I thought we were just on an expedition."
"Silly Moony!" Sirius tutts and Remus knows he doesn't need Sirius to tell him. When had they ever been 'just on an expedition’? "We are not merely on an expedition. Every expedition has a purpose and this, this expedition has the most splendid purpose of all!"
"And that would be?" Remus enquires, before reaching up to climb onto the roof. He knows he will regret asking, but it is always useful to know the details so he can incorporate it into his excuses to McGonagall.
He finally draws himself up onto the roof and restrains himself to stop from whooping in joy with some difficulty. He looks across and winces at the maniacal glint in Sirius' eye. This is not going to be good news.
But Sirius just taps the side of his nose. "No no no, Mr Perfect Prefect," he sings mockingly. "The less you know the less you can disapprove."
"Then I'll assume it's something terrible," Remus says stubbornly. He looks at the point behind Sirius' shoulder where James is no doubt hiding and frowns. There is no sound from the empty space.
"Come on, Moony," Sirius says. "It's going to be brilliant. I promise you'll enjoy it immensely."
Remus frowns. He highly doubts it. If it wasn't such a long and dangerous climb down he would be retreating right now, back to his warm bed and his hot chocolate and his copy of Anna Karenina. Instead, he puffs out a lungful of air that turns to mist before him and pushes his sopping fringe from his eyes.
And Sirius knows he's won. He grins and gives a loud, boisterous shout and swings his legs madly over the edge of the guttering. Remus turns away, because it's a very long way down and he doesn't want to fall.
"Okay, Mr Prongs!" Sirius calls, when his private celebration is over. He looks over his shoulder and then stands awkwardly, spinning around in a wild circle. Remus holds his breath and closes his eyes. "Prongs?"
"Present!" a disembodied voice cries and a bowl appears, held by a pair of hands which appear to have been severed from their body at the wrists. Sirius grins and takes it, holding it before him with triumph. His eyes glint again, the glint of a madman.
And Remus recognises it.
"Padfoot," he breathes, standing up shakily, forgetting for a moment about the hundred of feet of air and the very solid ground below. "Padfoot, you can't!"
And Sirius keeps grinning. "It's not got you in it, Moony," he says earnestly, as if this is all that matters. And maybe, to him, it is. "It's just loads of other stuff. Like him wanking over Lily and snuggling his teddy and getting undies from his mother. I promise."
Remus glares and his mind is made up. "Padfoot," he growls. "If you dare do anything but return it to him as you found it, I will-."
"Relax!" Sirius cries, stepping closer. "And sit down before you faint. I know you hate heights."
"Padfoot," Remus replies, doing as he is told because he really, really does hate heights. "Please."
"Merlin!" Sirius says. "If I knew you were going to be such a bloody girl about it, I would have left you with Annie Karacha."
"Anna Karenina," Remus supplies, mainly out of habit. "And I'm not being a girl, Padfoot. Just put it back. If he finds out, well-. We've done enough against him. The- The- Before was enough!"
"He had your badge taken away," Sirius says coldly. "And he's a greasy git. And I don't care! He deserved it!"
And suddenly Remus is standing again and he feels like his body is on fire and he's walking across the tiles as if they are the normal floor. And Sirius is backing away, looking slightly afraid. And Remus doesn't care because he has to stop it because it's gone far enough. And Sirius laughs and Remus' fist connects with his cheek.
There is a moment where there is nothing but silence. Remus' fist feels oddly heavy and Sirius' cheek goes pale and then blushes red and their eyes lock.
Sirius grabs his head and Remus kicks at his legs and they end up laid on the roof, rolling over and throwing punches which never hit their target and growling and muttering every swear word and every curse they know.
When Remus comes to his senses, everything suddenly becomes very real. Sirius is bleeding, his blood dripping into Remus' hair as he hovers over him. They're very close. Remus' can feel Sirius' warm, wet breath on his face. He knows he should move away, because he's about to embarrass himself. But Sirius is a beater and he's made of heavy muscle and he isn't allowing Remus to move an inch.
"Padfoot," he growls and Sirius' eyes flash with the same manically glint as always and he leans even closer. His lips nearly brushing against Remus' as he speaks and Remus can't suppress a little whimper leaving his lips.
Sirius leans even closer, and his lips touch Remus'. They're dry and chapped and rough. When he opens his mouth slightly, Remus can taste blood. It doesn't matter though, because he's kissing back. His hands are gripping Sirius' hair, have been since he can remember, and his nose really must be as large as Sirius always teases because it's getting in the way, so he shifts his face slightly, trying to get his teeth out of the equation, but he only succeeds in digging them into Sirius' lip.
Sirius' hands are everywhere. Remus can feel one crawling up under his shirt. The air is cold and damp and Sirius' hand even more so. It leaves goosebumps in its wake but Remus isn't sure if that's just the temperature or something else. The other hand is fiddling with his trousers and Remus doesn't understand why until his fly springs open and he moans into Sirius' mouth, pulling him even closer.
They're so caught up that they don't hear the catcalls and awkward coughing and then shouting. It's only when a hand appears and pulls Sirius off him that he even remembers that they are not alone.
And then it becomes all too apparent. It's all too apparent that he is laid on the roof of the Astronomy Tower covered in cuts and bruises and bite marks with his hair thoroughly dishevelled and his trousers lying open.
McGonagall clears her throat and averts her eyes, and Remus hastily pulls at his fly. "Erm," he mutters, flushing crimson and looking desperately for a quick escape route. "I can explain!"
McGonagall's lip twitches at that and she rolls her eyes almost affectionately. "I'm sure I do not want to know the details, Mr Lupin," she says crossly. "Now, why don't you and Mr Black make your way back to your dormitory and I shall keep the loss of points to the minimum twenty each."
Remus nods, eyes averted. Sirius is already making his way off the roof, down an ornate stairway that Remus has no doubt McGonagall has transfigured. Remus follows him, trying to hide a rather distinct limp and the fact that his face has turned a shade of purple too bright to be within human understanding.
"Well," Sirius says, seemingly annoyingly calm and happy. "If I knew that was all I had to do to avoid a detention, I would have started kissing you long ago."
Remus does not dare to meet his eye, instead looking at the ripped lace on his right shoe with interest as they walk through the fire lit common room. He only looks up when Sirius wraps a thick arm around his waist and pulls him closer, placing a sloppy kiss on his cheek.
"Give my love to Annie Karacha," he mutters. "I'll be up in a bit."
Remus watches him limp towards the shower with a small smile and decides not to correct him just this once.