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small_giftsTitle: Take a Chance
Author: Margot/![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
midnight_birth.
Written for:kasche.
Rating: R for sexual themes.
Prompt: I Want You Now by The Feeling.
Summary: Sirius was never famous for his self-control. When he wants something, there is not a hell of a lot anybody can do or say to get in his way, even if that “something” is one of his best friends.
A/N: I’m always a little nervous writing fic based on lyrics, because it’s so interpretational, but I really hope you like this fic! I was really excited to write for you. Your art often inspires me, and thank you for placing a prompt that inspired me too (it’s a song I’m very partial to). ;) Also, a humongous thank you to the mods for the little bit of extra time. It was much needed and is wholeheartedly appreciated! ♥
~*~
Sirius fidgets nervously again and gives James a questioning look. James hasn’t spoken for a long time, and is now seemingly avoiding meeting Sirius’s eyes, too.
“Some words would be ideal just about now,” he says finally, when James doesn’t make a move to speak and minutes crawl slowly by.
James gives him a poorly masked irritated look and jerks his head. Sirius knows that gesture is not a good sign.
“I don’t know what to say, Pads.”
“Well, after thirty minutes of silence, that’s exactly what I expected you to finally squeeze out!” Sirius notes sarcastically and gets out of the armchair. “But it does show that you are not the person I should be saying all of this stuff to!”
“Padfoot, wait!” James is out of his seat faster than Sirius can turn, grabbing for Sirius’s arm and pulling him back. “You’re going to tell him, aren’t you?”
Sirius frowns. “Well, I kind of have to, don’t I? It’s been long enough. Patience is not a virtue I possess, and I’ve been patient.”
“And I don’t even know what to tell you!” James fists his hand in his hair and pulls back as he often does when he’s nervous. “Why in Merlin’s name would you tell me all of this?”
“Because when you went through this, you came to me first, too!”
“Well, it’s not the same! Don’t you think you should have at least split it into two conversations or something? First tell me you’re... you know. Then give me time to process. And then tell me you’re in love with... you know.”
“I know.” Sirius frees his arm and takes a step back. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I should go, though.”
He’s almost out of the portrait hole when James finally manages to get out, “Padfoot, please don’t!”
Sirius backs up slowly, giving James a weary look. He expected the confusion, the awkwardness, maybe even a wake-up call, but not such a direct, confident opposition. He isn’t good with opposition. He doesn’t need to be talked out of this, which is exactly what James looks like he’s planning on doing. It’s a quality about him that they all know very well. He doesn’t ask advice to get advice, and he doesn’t ask advice because he needs it. Most of the time, his mind is made up, and he simply wants his friends to urge him on or be aware of his plan of action. Usually, they know better than to do anything else, unless it’s something harmful.
“You can’t do this, Padfoot,” James says sadly but forcefully. It’s evident he doesn’t want to be saying what he is but can’t hold it in. “You can ruin... If he doesn’t feel the same way... All of us have such a close bond... It’s just not right. I don’t know how to say this, but you know what I’m saying, don’t you?” Sirius nods and looks down, defeated. It’s not as if he hasn’t been thinking about that possibility non-stop. “I don’t want anyone getting hurt or anything getting awkward. We can’t allow that to happen with the four of us. Not us. Promise me you won’t?”
Sirius wants to shout. Hit James, maybe, and then go and hit himself on a wall somewhere. This is why he doesn’t like people giving him advice. He likes to take risks and plunge into things head first, and more often than not he knows the possible negative consequences, but he can pretend he doesn’t. When someone else says them out loud they become real and concrete and looming. He knows Regulus was right once upon a time in saying that people get more mad at others for being right than for being wrong. And James is right. And Sirius is mad.
He mumbles an affirmative and storms out of the common room. He’s been holding it in for a long time, and he’s had it all planned out for days. He was sure that everything was going to turn out exactly as he wants it to, but he isn’t so anymore. Probably never was to begin with, but now he can’t ignore it. Now he has to go back to the way things were – awkward stares, wonderful and torturous dreams, holding his breath when the familiar scent washes over him, and now being awkward and uncomfortable around James for a while, too. Happy Holidays indeed, he thinks to himself, sighing. Happy holidays, indeed.
~*~
“See, it’s not complicated at all,” Remus leans over Sirius to reach the other end of the table and places a card with a drawing of Mars on it. Sirius tenses and closes his eyes, taking a slow breath. “Then we can take this,” Remus takes the card with Venus on it, brushing his fingers against Sirius’s, “and put it right here,” he snaps it down on the table, “and you can see exactly how everything’s positioned during that transition.”
He looks over at Sirius to give him a satisfied grin, but his smile falters when it’s met by a murderous glare.
“Um, did I not explain it right? I didn’t mean it was simple. Of course it’s not simple! That’s why you’re having such a hard time understanding it.”
“You explained it fine!” Sirius snaps. “I get it already!”
It’s torture. He’s aware that if he ever finds himself in a war and in the enemy’s grasp, he may be unpleasantly surprised, but right now, it seems to him that nothing can be more tortuous than this. It’s almost as if Remus is doing it on purpose. Pushing his knee into his in just that way, their sides pressing together, their fingers and hands constantly brushing on the table. And the smell that he always carries... Did he really have to shower right before doing homework with Sirius? Does he really have to have his tie untied and draped over his neck in that careless manner that Sirius finds so sexy, and have his first four buttons unbuttoned so Sirius can see his scarred, pale chest?
“If you got it earlier, you could’ve said so and not make me waste my time explaining rudimentary things over and over again!” Remus retorts. “What is with you today, anyway? You’ve been one grumpy arse. It’s quite unbearable for the rest of us, you know.”
“You offered to explain it! No one’s making you help me!” Sirius tries to shift on the couch, but only succeeds in moving against Remus’s body. “Do you have to sit so close?”
Now Remus looks hurt and angry, too. The couch isn’t very big, and there is not much room for Remus to move away. Just a couple of months ago, the four of them managed to all squeeze onto it, all half sitting in each other’s laps and feeling silly but comfortable and easy. Now Sirius feels trapped and provoked, though he knows there is enough space between them when Remus doesn’t lean. He knows equally well that for him, there will never be enough space between them to be able to not feel like this.
Remus shakes his head in irritation and gets up, walking over purposefully to the couch opposite and planting himself onto it. Sirius watches as he gathers the cards from the table and stuffs them into their box. It’s not even a little bit better. Remus may as well be sitting right beside him still, because Sirius can still feel his touch and the heat of the other against his own skin. Remus’s tie slides over and slithers to the floor, but Remus doesn’t even seem to notice. He leans forward to gather the pencils and the magical tiny stars right in front of Sirius, and Sirius can see down his shirt to the waistband of his trousers. He imagines the view if it wasn’t obstructed by clothing and then shuts his eyes tightly again. James’s determined, worried expression is swimming right behind his eyelids.
He knows that if he was in Remus’s place, he would leave, but Remus of course doesn’t. It’s not like Remus to leave or turn his back, no matter what. Sirius can see that Remus is frustrated and angry now and can only wonder at his self-sacrifice to be around a friend who possibly needs to talk despite said friend constantly jumping down his throat. Except the only thing Sirius needs is for Remus to go away. To go to bed, or just out of the room – anywhere where it wouldn’t be so easy for Sirius to jump his bones.
“So what is going on with you?” Remus asks after a while. Sirius realizes he’s been staring and shifts his gaze.
“Nothing,” he hears himself bark. He knows it’s unfair to Remus, but his mind can’t think much further past the fact that it’s unfair to him, too, to have to endure this. “What’s it to you, anyway? You really don’t have to act the mother all the time!”
Sirius can see the very familiar battle start to play out behind Remus’s eyes. Remus is always the calm one, and Sirius can now see how much effort it takes on his part to remain so. He can see his common sense fight over his more natural instinct to get into a brawl and not take all of this nonsense from Sirius. Sirius almost wishes Remus wouldn’t fight with that part of himself so much.
“If you want to be like that, then be my guest!” Remus fires, getting up, seemingly finding a balance between the two. “I’m just trying to be a friend, but I am certainly not going to care more than you do!”
Suddenly, Sirius almost feels his mind turn on him and beg for defiance. There is anger and there is bitterness, but most of all, there is that feeling that Sirius is tired of feeling. Tired of fighting.
“You trying to be a friend?” he asks, jumping up as well. “Well, if you want to be a friend to me, how about you stop torturing me? Stop touching me! Stop always going to the shower when I am! Stop pretending you don’t know what the hell’s going on here!”
There is a moment when Remus’s face is blank, but then it slowly turns to surprise. Sirius can see that Remus, in fact, does not see what’s going on – had never seen, most likely – but the wheels are set in motion and Sirius swears he can almost hear all the pieces of the puzzle slowly coming and snapping together in Remus’s head.
“And you know what? Screw Prongs! What does he know anyway? I’m not going to do this for the rest of my life for the sake of the “four of us”!”
In two impressive leaps he’s on the table and then standing in front of Remus. It’s obvious that Remus is shocked and taken aback. Sirius watches him, his heart pounding in his chest. He doesn’t even need a confirmation or a hint at this point. He just wants to remember how Remus looks at that exact moment. He’s convinced the other had never looked better. He leans forward. He’s made up his mind. This is who he is. Instinctual and whimsical. This is who he wants to continue being. He doesn’t want to think of the consequences until he has to. If he has to. There is only one way to find out now. He stands a good chance of ruining their friendship, but by holding it all in he’s pretty sure he’s not far from achieving that, either.
Their lips meet faster than Sirius expects them to, and he realizes that Remus is leaning in too, meeting Sirius half way and opening his mouth to allow Sirius access without a hint of hesitation. As their arms go around each other, Sirius feels an enormous weight lift from his shoulders. He hasn’t thought about what would happen if Remus pushed him away and rejected him. But of course he doesn’t. Sirius is presumptuous, but he looks back on all the glances that were answered, on all the seemingly innocent brushes of different body parts, and of all the chance meetings in the unlikeliest of places with smugness. He wouldn’t say this just ten minutes ago, but he is now sure that he’s always known. It was so obvious, after all, even if quite unlikely.
Sirius pushes Remus back and they tumble onto the couch, now just the right size for them to fit, melting into each other. Sirius kisses Remus’s neck and then, finally, the exposed skin of Remus’s chest. He hopes that Remus’s smell sinks into his clothes so that he can smell him the whole day, even when they’ll part later today for Remus to do his evening Prefect duties. The last six years suddenly seem like a waste. They could’ve been doing this from the beginning. It is true that Sirius has started to realize his feeling for Remus only a few months ago, but he’s certain they were always there. He was always Moony – Moony the genius, Moony the werewolf, Moony the diplomat – his Moony.
He leans back and grins a righteous grin that makes Remus raise an eyebrow suspiciously.
“You know, you don’t have to gloat,” Remus points out, his arms tightly around Sirius’s waste with no intent of letting go.
“Prongs can stuff it full of walnuts,” Sirius says, kissing Remus’s chin and grinning wider. “He’s the reason I didn’t do this days ago.”
“Prongs?” Remus frowns and pulls up slightly, resting the weight of his upper body on his elbows. “He knows?”
“Mmhmm.” Sirius’s hands are undoing Remus’s shirt slowly, grazing every inch of newly exposed skin with his nails. “He didn’t want me to do this because I’m pretty certain he was sure you wouldn’t return the sentiment and it would become awkward for all four of us. It’s a damn hard thing to recover from, rejection.”
“Yes, because so many out there actually resist you,” Remus points out mockingly. “And what if Prongs actually has a problem with this?”
“He’ll get over it,” Sirius mutters, kissing Remus’s collarbone and biting lightly, making Remus moan. “And I know just the way to help him along.”
“Oh, yeahh?” Sirius’s lips and teeth are now on Remus’s stomach.
“I think if he walks in here and see us doing this,” Remus’s belt is gone quickly and his trousers are opened, his erection now given the space to stand at attention, “I think he will get the picture.”
“Him and the rest of our classmates.” Remus smiles.
“Would you care if he has a problem with this?” Sirius asks, pulling down Remus’s pants and freeing his cock. “Would you care if they all walked in here right now?”
“Um... Can you ask me that again when you’re not-Merlin!- fondling that!!”
Sirius grins. This is not the kind of confession he initially had planned – though the results are quite similar – but for once, he’s glad for his own rashness and lack of self-control. He doesn’t blame James for suggesting what he had, and he knows his friend was right in his intentions except, of course, being completely and utterly wrong this time. It will take some getting used to, but, having Remus under him moaning and writhing, Sirius is sure that whatever it will require, it’s more than worth it. He knows there aren’t a lot of people out there that are worth risking the kind of friendship they have over, but Remus is one of them. Remus is worth anything. He had taken a chance on him and now they both have one. Sirius has what he wants, and so does Remus. And James? Well, James can stuff it indeed.
Author: Margot/
midnight_birth.Written for:
kasche.Rating: R for sexual themes.
Prompt: I Want You Now by The Feeling.
Summary: Sirius was never famous for his self-control. When he wants something, there is not a hell of a lot anybody can do or say to get in his way, even if that “something” is one of his best friends.
A/N: I’m always a little nervous writing fic based on lyrics, because it’s so interpretational, but I really hope you like this fic! I was really excited to write for you. Your art often inspires me, and thank you for placing a prompt that inspired me too (it’s a song I’m very partial to). ;) Also, a humongous thank you to the mods for the little bit of extra time. It was much needed and is wholeheartedly appreciated! ♥
~*~
Sirius fidgets nervously again and gives James a questioning look. James hasn’t spoken for a long time, and is now seemingly avoiding meeting Sirius’s eyes, too.
“Some words would be ideal just about now,” he says finally, when James doesn’t make a move to speak and minutes crawl slowly by.
James gives him a poorly masked irritated look and jerks his head. Sirius knows that gesture is not a good sign.
“I don’t know what to say, Pads.”
“Well, after thirty minutes of silence, that’s exactly what I expected you to finally squeeze out!” Sirius notes sarcastically and gets out of the armchair. “But it does show that you are not the person I should be saying all of this stuff to!”
“Padfoot, wait!” James is out of his seat faster than Sirius can turn, grabbing for Sirius’s arm and pulling him back. “You’re going to tell him, aren’t you?”
Sirius frowns. “Well, I kind of have to, don’t I? It’s been long enough. Patience is not a virtue I possess, and I’ve been patient.”
“And I don’t even know what to tell you!” James fists his hand in his hair and pulls back as he often does when he’s nervous. “Why in Merlin’s name would you tell me all of this?”
“Because when you went through this, you came to me first, too!”
“Well, it’s not the same! Don’t you think you should have at least split it into two conversations or something? First tell me you’re... you know. Then give me time to process. And then tell me you’re in love with... you know.”
“I know.” Sirius frees his arm and takes a step back. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I should go, though.”
He’s almost out of the portrait hole when James finally manages to get out, “Padfoot, please don’t!”
Sirius backs up slowly, giving James a weary look. He expected the confusion, the awkwardness, maybe even a wake-up call, but not such a direct, confident opposition. He isn’t good with opposition. He doesn’t need to be talked out of this, which is exactly what James looks like he’s planning on doing. It’s a quality about him that they all know very well. He doesn’t ask advice to get advice, and he doesn’t ask advice because he needs it. Most of the time, his mind is made up, and he simply wants his friends to urge him on or be aware of his plan of action. Usually, they know better than to do anything else, unless it’s something harmful.
“You can’t do this, Padfoot,” James says sadly but forcefully. It’s evident he doesn’t want to be saying what he is but can’t hold it in. “You can ruin... If he doesn’t feel the same way... All of us have such a close bond... It’s just not right. I don’t know how to say this, but you know what I’m saying, don’t you?” Sirius nods and looks down, defeated. It’s not as if he hasn’t been thinking about that possibility non-stop. “I don’t want anyone getting hurt or anything getting awkward. We can’t allow that to happen with the four of us. Not us. Promise me you won’t?”
Sirius wants to shout. Hit James, maybe, and then go and hit himself on a wall somewhere. This is why he doesn’t like people giving him advice. He likes to take risks and plunge into things head first, and more often than not he knows the possible negative consequences, but he can pretend he doesn’t. When someone else says them out loud they become real and concrete and looming. He knows Regulus was right once upon a time in saying that people get more mad at others for being right than for being wrong. And James is right. And Sirius is mad.
He mumbles an affirmative and storms out of the common room. He’s been holding it in for a long time, and he’s had it all planned out for days. He was sure that everything was going to turn out exactly as he wants it to, but he isn’t so anymore. Probably never was to begin with, but now he can’t ignore it. Now he has to go back to the way things were – awkward stares, wonderful and torturous dreams, holding his breath when the familiar scent washes over him, and now being awkward and uncomfortable around James for a while, too. Happy Holidays indeed, he thinks to himself, sighing. Happy holidays, indeed.
~*~
“See, it’s not complicated at all,” Remus leans over Sirius to reach the other end of the table and places a card with a drawing of Mars on it. Sirius tenses and closes his eyes, taking a slow breath. “Then we can take this,” Remus takes the card with Venus on it, brushing his fingers against Sirius’s, “and put it right here,” he snaps it down on the table, “and you can see exactly how everything’s positioned during that transition.”
He looks over at Sirius to give him a satisfied grin, but his smile falters when it’s met by a murderous glare.
“Um, did I not explain it right? I didn’t mean it was simple. Of course it’s not simple! That’s why you’re having such a hard time understanding it.”
“You explained it fine!” Sirius snaps. “I get it already!”
It’s torture. He’s aware that if he ever finds himself in a war and in the enemy’s grasp, he may be unpleasantly surprised, but right now, it seems to him that nothing can be more tortuous than this. It’s almost as if Remus is doing it on purpose. Pushing his knee into his in just that way, their sides pressing together, their fingers and hands constantly brushing on the table. And the smell that he always carries... Did he really have to shower right before doing homework with Sirius? Does he really have to have his tie untied and draped over his neck in that careless manner that Sirius finds so sexy, and have his first four buttons unbuttoned so Sirius can see his scarred, pale chest?
“If you got it earlier, you could’ve said so and not make me waste my time explaining rudimentary things over and over again!” Remus retorts. “What is with you today, anyway? You’ve been one grumpy arse. It’s quite unbearable for the rest of us, you know.”
“You offered to explain it! No one’s making you help me!” Sirius tries to shift on the couch, but only succeeds in moving against Remus’s body. “Do you have to sit so close?”
Now Remus looks hurt and angry, too. The couch isn’t very big, and there is not much room for Remus to move away. Just a couple of months ago, the four of them managed to all squeeze onto it, all half sitting in each other’s laps and feeling silly but comfortable and easy. Now Sirius feels trapped and provoked, though he knows there is enough space between them when Remus doesn’t lean. He knows equally well that for him, there will never be enough space between them to be able to not feel like this.
Remus shakes his head in irritation and gets up, walking over purposefully to the couch opposite and planting himself onto it. Sirius watches as he gathers the cards from the table and stuffs them into their box. It’s not even a little bit better. Remus may as well be sitting right beside him still, because Sirius can still feel his touch and the heat of the other against his own skin. Remus’s tie slides over and slithers to the floor, but Remus doesn’t even seem to notice. He leans forward to gather the pencils and the magical tiny stars right in front of Sirius, and Sirius can see down his shirt to the waistband of his trousers. He imagines the view if it wasn’t obstructed by clothing and then shuts his eyes tightly again. James’s determined, worried expression is swimming right behind his eyelids.
He knows that if he was in Remus’s place, he would leave, but Remus of course doesn’t. It’s not like Remus to leave or turn his back, no matter what. Sirius can see that Remus is frustrated and angry now and can only wonder at his self-sacrifice to be around a friend who possibly needs to talk despite said friend constantly jumping down his throat. Except the only thing Sirius needs is for Remus to go away. To go to bed, or just out of the room – anywhere where it wouldn’t be so easy for Sirius to jump his bones.
“So what is going on with you?” Remus asks after a while. Sirius realizes he’s been staring and shifts his gaze.
“Nothing,” he hears himself bark. He knows it’s unfair to Remus, but his mind can’t think much further past the fact that it’s unfair to him, too, to have to endure this. “What’s it to you, anyway? You really don’t have to act the mother all the time!”
Sirius can see the very familiar battle start to play out behind Remus’s eyes. Remus is always the calm one, and Sirius can now see how much effort it takes on his part to remain so. He can see his common sense fight over his more natural instinct to get into a brawl and not take all of this nonsense from Sirius. Sirius almost wishes Remus wouldn’t fight with that part of himself so much.
“If you want to be like that, then be my guest!” Remus fires, getting up, seemingly finding a balance between the two. “I’m just trying to be a friend, but I am certainly not going to care more than you do!”
Suddenly, Sirius almost feels his mind turn on him and beg for defiance. There is anger and there is bitterness, but most of all, there is that feeling that Sirius is tired of feeling. Tired of fighting.
“You trying to be a friend?” he asks, jumping up as well. “Well, if you want to be a friend to me, how about you stop torturing me? Stop touching me! Stop always going to the shower when I am! Stop pretending you don’t know what the hell’s going on here!”
There is a moment when Remus’s face is blank, but then it slowly turns to surprise. Sirius can see that Remus, in fact, does not see what’s going on – had never seen, most likely – but the wheels are set in motion and Sirius swears he can almost hear all the pieces of the puzzle slowly coming and snapping together in Remus’s head.
“And you know what? Screw Prongs! What does he know anyway? I’m not going to do this for the rest of my life for the sake of the “four of us”!”
In two impressive leaps he’s on the table and then standing in front of Remus. It’s obvious that Remus is shocked and taken aback. Sirius watches him, his heart pounding in his chest. He doesn’t even need a confirmation or a hint at this point. He just wants to remember how Remus looks at that exact moment. He’s convinced the other had never looked better. He leans forward. He’s made up his mind. This is who he is. Instinctual and whimsical. This is who he wants to continue being. He doesn’t want to think of the consequences until he has to. If he has to. There is only one way to find out now. He stands a good chance of ruining their friendship, but by holding it all in he’s pretty sure he’s not far from achieving that, either.
Their lips meet faster than Sirius expects them to, and he realizes that Remus is leaning in too, meeting Sirius half way and opening his mouth to allow Sirius access without a hint of hesitation. As their arms go around each other, Sirius feels an enormous weight lift from his shoulders. He hasn’t thought about what would happen if Remus pushed him away and rejected him. But of course he doesn’t. Sirius is presumptuous, but he looks back on all the glances that were answered, on all the seemingly innocent brushes of different body parts, and of all the chance meetings in the unlikeliest of places with smugness. He wouldn’t say this just ten minutes ago, but he is now sure that he’s always known. It was so obvious, after all, even if quite unlikely.
Sirius pushes Remus back and they tumble onto the couch, now just the right size for them to fit, melting into each other. Sirius kisses Remus’s neck and then, finally, the exposed skin of Remus’s chest. He hopes that Remus’s smell sinks into his clothes so that he can smell him the whole day, even when they’ll part later today for Remus to do his evening Prefect duties. The last six years suddenly seem like a waste. They could’ve been doing this from the beginning. It is true that Sirius has started to realize his feeling for Remus only a few months ago, but he’s certain they were always there. He was always Moony – Moony the genius, Moony the werewolf, Moony the diplomat – his Moony.
He leans back and grins a righteous grin that makes Remus raise an eyebrow suspiciously.
“You know, you don’t have to gloat,” Remus points out, his arms tightly around Sirius’s waste with no intent of letting go.
“Prongs can stuff it full of walnuts,” Sirius says, kissing Remus’s chin and grinning wider. “He’s the reason I didn’t do this days ago.”
“Prongs?” Remus frowns and pulls up slightly, resting the weight of his upper body on his elbows. “He knows?”
“Mmhmm.” Sirius’s hands are undoing Remus’s shirt slowly, grazing every inch of newly exposed skin with his nails. “He didn’t want me to do this because I’m pretty certain he was sure you wouldn’t return the sentiment and it would become awkward for all four of us. It’s a damn hard thing to recover from, rejection.”
“Yes, because so many out there actually resist you,” Remus points out mockingly. “And what if Prongs actually has a problem with this?”
“He’ll get over it,” Sirius mutters, kissing Remus’s collarbone and biting lightly, making Remus moan. “And I know just the way to help him along.”
“Oh, yeahh?” Sirius’s lips and teeth are now on Remus’s stomach.
“I think if he walks in here and see us doing this,” Remus’s belt is gone quickly and his trousers are opened, his erection now given the space to stand at attention, “I think he will get the picture.”
“Him and the rest of our classmates.” Remus smiles.
“Would you care if he has a problem with this?” Sirius asks, pulling down Remus’s pants and freeing his cock. “Would you care if they all walked in here right now?”
“Um... Can you ask me that again when you’re not-Merlin!- fondling that!!”
Sirius grins. This is not the kind of confession he initially had planned – though the results are quite similar – but for once, he’s glad for his own rashness and lack of self-control. He doesn’t blame James for suggesting what he had, and he knows his friend was right in his intentions except, of course, being completely and utterly wrong this time. It will take some getting used to, but, having Remus under him moaning and writhing, Sirius is sure that whatever it will require, it’s more than worth it. He knows there aren’t a lot of people out there that are worth risking the kind of friendship they have over, but Remus is one of them. Remus is worth anything. He had taken a chance on him and now they both have one. Sirius has what he wants, and so does Remus. And James? Well, James can stuff it indeed.
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Date: 2008-12-27 05:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-28 06:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 05:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-28 06:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 06:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-29 04:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 06:09 pm (UTC)Nice job.
no subject
Date: 2008-12-29 04:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 09:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-29 06:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-28 01:11 am (UTC)A very cute story and, I have to say, I love yay-we're-together endings. They're so innocent here, trusting in their Maraudery friendships lasting forever; I love that, I can pretend it's true.
(Oh, and also, yay for wise!Regulus reference!)
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Date: 2008-12-29 06:16 am (UTC)(Hee! I don't know why, but I always pictured Regulus as the wise one. I have no idea where that even comes from.)
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Date: 2008-12-28 01:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-29 02:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-28 03:37 am (UTC)xxx
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Date: 2008-12-29 06:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-28 05:24 am (UTC)That was my favorite bit! So very Sirius and so very, very in character.
This was very well-written and so fun to read. Everything flowed so well and Sirius' emotions and thought precesses were delightful. Well, agony for him, but delightful for readers.
Lovely!
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Date: 2008-12-29 06:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-28 05:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-29 06:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-28 06:41 am (UTC)Oh, and this: Remus is worth anything. Awwww.
Lovely fic.
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Date: 2008-12-29 06:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-28 01:01 pm (UTC)And this sentence Sirius pushes Remus back and they tumble onto the couch, now just the right size for them to fit is just perfection. Well done;
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Date: 2008-12-29 06:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-28 10:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-29 02:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-29 06:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-29 10:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-31 03:11 pm (UTC)Your characterizations are so right here, especially Sirius. Not that your James isn't great but yours is a truly outstanding Sirius!
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Date: 2009-01-05 11:06 am (UTC)