small_gifts | Fic: THE PARALLELS ARE THE HARDEST PART for kittehkat

Title: the parallels are the hardest part (1150 words)
Author/Artist: theenginedriver
Written for: kittehkat
Rating: NC-17, for swearing, talking dirty, wanking, and extreme angst. In that order.
Summary and/or Prompt: Hopefully this hits both prompt #2: “Art or fic -- Sirius wanks in front of Remus because he asks him to after he's recovering from a transformation” and something you’re fond of: “Completely devastated!Remus”. Oh yes. The magic of… literary convention… puts the two together.
Any other random notes, warnings, etc.: Be warned: extreme cruelty to werewolves.

Something stirred in the Shrieking Shack’s frigid air.

Remus forced his eyes open and exhaled slowly, a trail of white fog rising from his bleeding lips. The rotting ceiling spun and then centred itself, a familiar enough sight that he could have closed his eyes again and still have known every knot in the grey wood.

Something stirred again, a rattling motion just beyond his peripheral vision. Remus rolled to one side underneath the blankets and looked towards the door. Any second now… any second now someone could come through… Sirius could come through the door… Remus counted the seconds, but nothing appeared in the doorway. He closed his eyes and continued to count, the numbers becoming an end themselves, an orderly procession that staved off the pain.

And suddenly Sirius was there, but he was young and still so carefree and handsome, not at all like that picture in the Daily Prophet. He had black hair so long that McGonagall had threatened to cut it and the only lines on his face were the creases where his mouth curled outward in a smile. He was sitting on the bed – Remus couldn’t remember him coming through the door, he must have drifted off for a time.

Sirius reached out as if to touch Remus’s forehead but aborted the gesture halfway there and just ran his hand lightly in the air above his head.

“You awake?” he murmured, bending over Remus. “How do you feel?”

And Remus couldn’t speak, or even move; he could only feel a dizzying sense of déjà vu. Sirius stood up and toyed nervously with the top button of his shirt. It was an untucked white oxford, a school tie hanging loose and half-tied around the neck. “I guess you don’t feel too good,” Sirius said, and he was looking at the floor so intently that Remus half expected him to divine something from its cracked wood. “McGonagall’s going to kill me, you know. I’m skiving off revision for the… I mean, you are too, but she knows… I’m not supposed to be out here, you know…”

For some reason nagging at the back of Remus’s mind, he didn’t dare move. His arms ached and he desperately needed to stretch out his legs, but there was a deep, almost primordial fear that if he even shifted his smallest muscle…

Sirius was still staring at the floor. “I wish I could make you feel better,” he said, plaintive and awkward, just seventeen, not really a man despite the attendant titles and inheritances. Remus remembered him like this even as he experienced it again: Sirius shocked at his own vulnerability, the only time when he wasn’t self-assured; and these moments had belonged to Remus alone. Whatever had come after – and Remus wasn’t sure what was after and what was before – Remus had these first moments, when they were so new and fragile that Sirius had acted afraid to say or do anything for fear he might break it.

“I don’t know what I could do,” he said, and then he looked up at Remus with wide eyes. “Fuck, Moony, I’d suck you off if I didn’t think it would kill you.” And then back to the floor, digging his toe into grooves and twisting his hands inside of his pockets. It took Remus a long moment to realise that Sirius was responding to something he himself had said. He felt as if he was floating in and out of consciousness, but somehow Sirius stayed perfectly in focus. Sirius looked up again, his cheeks suddenly red, and gave a lopsided grin, “Would that really… I mean… fuck.” He took a deep breath, blinked a few times, and then said, “Fuck, yes, I’m hard. You know how I get… when you talk like that.” And he blushed again. Remus had forgotten that Sirius knew how to blush. Sirius put a slightly shaking hand to his tie and yanked it off, throwing it to the side. “Fuck, of course I’m hard, Moony. Fuck.” He reached up with his other hand, undid the shirt’s top button quickly, and then set to fumbling with the rest. Remus could see the bulge underneath his dark trousers, could almost feel what it would be like to run his hand up his length, to cup him and…

Sirius paused in his unbuttoning. “Leave it on?” he asked. No, not asked: repeated. He let go of the shirt, leaving the bottom three buttons undone, and put his hands on his waist. “God, you don’t know what you do to me,” he said, almost to himself, and he tugged off his belt. His shirt dangled down, obscuring Remus’s view, but then Sirius unbuttoned his trousers and slid them down, careful over the bulge in his y-fronts, and kicked them off. He was breathing shallowly, his breath puffing slightly in the air, and Remus remembered that it was almost Christmas, that the Shack was cold, and wasn’t Sirius…

Sirius pulled back the blankets and lay down next to Remus. “I won’t touch you,” he whispered, turning on his side, now completely naked. “But, fuck, Moony, I wish I could.” And he slid his hand down and then up, a slowly stuttering jerk along the length of his full cock. He shut his eyes and Remus wanted him to open them and so he did, wordlessly, but his pupils were dilated as he took his cock tightly in his right hand and stroked up again. With his left hand, he reached up and squeezed one of his nipples, twisting it until it was red and erect. His breath was hot and damp on Remus’s face, his mouth open and red as he made soft sounds of effort. He stroked up and down, up and down, barely varying the pace, his thumb rubbing just below the inside edge of the head just the way that Remus had learned to do it.

Remus wanted to reach out and grab him, to take him into his own hands, but it was almost over already, Sirius’s breath now shallow and frantic, murmuring, “Oh, god, Moony, oh god…” over and over again…

Remus drifted again and Sirius seemed to flicker, and then to disappear out of his sight. Remus sat up frantically looking for him and saw nothing but a disturbance in the dust on the floor where Sirius’s trousers had once been. His own breath came heavily and every ache in his body rushed back along with another, less physical but twelve years familiar. He’d been asleep, he’d been delirious, he’d been remembering something from another lifetime: he knew that ceiling and so he’d imagined that he knew that time as well.

He curled into a ball, and shut his eyes to shut out the familiar scene, and just ached.

Something stirred in the air; a rat ran across the floor and underneath the door…

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

secretsolitaire.livejournal.com

*wibbles* I just... *wibbles some more*

theenginedriver.livejournal.com

Thank you :)

xmindthegapx.livejournal.com

Oh... my...

Wow.

I just... can't. Wow.

So good.

Thanks! I love your icon...

sleeper6.livejournal.com

Oh my! That's quite a scene. I love your Sirius; he'll do anything to help Remus. Good for him! Excellent all the way through.

Thank you! Sirius was sort of hard to write -- hard to make believable -- but it sounds like I succeeded.

aylaranzz.livejournal.com

Gah!! So sad!! Poor puppies.

I know... I shouldn't enjoy torturing them as much as I do.

kittehkat.livejournal.com

Oh, my. I... I love you. Seriously. Gah.

That was so amazing. I loved how it was such a blurred line and completely disorienting in the begining. It was almost like you were forced into being totally confused along with him.

We're so hard on the poor man. Ugh. That was beautiful, especially with the moments all to himself. And Sirius is so sweet. Mmm.

And it still leaves a bit of hope... and then not, consideirng the canon. It's just not fair.

Anyways, thanks so much! I love it! :D *hug*