Fic: Forgiveness for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lesyeuxverts00
Jan. 2nd, 2010 12:00 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
smallgiftsmods.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
small_giftsTitle: Forgiveness
Author: Margot/midnight_birth.
Recipient:lesyeuxverts00.
Rating: PG-13.
Highlight for Warnings: *Some angst, snogging, not much else, really. *
Word Count: 2,620
Prompt: April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers." ~~The Waste Land by T.S.Eliot.
Summary: Sometimes, anger is easier than acceptance.
A/N: Gah, I really hope you like this, dear recipient! I tried to include as many things you mentioned you liked as I could, and I hope that my interpretation of the poem came across at least a little bit. I adore the Waste Land, I must admit, and I was thrilled when I saw it as one of your prompts. I enjoyed writing this immensely, suffice it to say. A humongous thank you to the mods for putting up with my tardiness. ♥
~*~
Remus listened to Kreacher grumbled something as he walked outside his door about "the dark kids never getting to sleep". "The kids", he knew, were still up and talking in their beds, but the house was finally quiet. Molly's food, as usual, incapacitated most, and he himself was starting to feel warm and sleepy. He was waiting, however.
He glanced at the clock. Eleven thirty. Right on time, the stench of cigarettes filled his nostrils and he slipped out of his room and made his way towards the kitchen as quietly as he could, all the while casting spells to prevent the smell from spreading through the rest of the house. Molly, for one, has a serious problem with Sirius's chain-smoking, which was why he had taken to smoking after everyone had gone to bed, but if she were to catch him smoking while her children were in the house, Remus knew no one would hear the end of it. She had found Sirius's cigarettes once, in a Muggle packaging, glanced at the picture on the carton and the warning on the back and Remus remembered thinking her screams would never end.
He walked into the kitchen to find Sirius leaning on the counter in his trousers, a cigarette in his mouth, pulling long and deep with his eyes closed.
"It surely can't be that enjoyable, can it?" he asked, his voice full of amusement, and Sirius jumped and nearly dropped the cigarette.
Sirius pulled himself back together quite quickly, his startled expression melting into a smirk. "Sure is. Want to try?"
Remus rolled his eyes and shook his head, casting another spell. He remembered the first time, in their seventh year, that Sirius had given him one of those. Remus choked and spluttered and coughed and was convinced that he would never breathe again, and was not eager to repeat the experience. He didn't know how Sirius could smoke so smoothly, breathing in the smoke and then blowing it out as if it was as easy as breathing air. It wasn't the same as smoking the pleasant-tasting, smooth pipes at all.
Sirius brought a glass of wine to his lips and finished it with one big gulp, immediately refilling it with the bottle Remus could now see newly opened and already half-gone on the kitchen counter.
"Want?" Sirius waved the bottle at him, and Remus shook his head.
"I'm good with good old tea, thank you."
Sirius watched him as he bustled with the kettle and the tea. Remus was never very comfortable with the staring. Sirius had a habit of watching people intently during the most mundane tasks, and Remus was conscious that whenever Sirius turned such full attention on him he immediately lost all hand-eye coordination and dropped things, his hands trembling slightly. Of course, when it came to Sirius, it wasn't just the looking. He had a similar effect on Remus when he stood too close or didn't wear enough layers or threw his arm around Remus's shoulder. Remus didn't know when he became aware of all this, or perhaps it had always been this way, but being around Sirius was becoming increasingly difficult.
"So what are you doing up?" Remus asked nonchalantly once he had his cup and was seated at the table where he was most unlikely to drop or break anything.
Sirius shrugged and gestured to the cigarette before brining it to his mouth and taking another small pull. Remus observed, as if mesmerized, as Sirius breathed out the smoke, looking down at it. Remus had always thought smoking was a disgusting habit, but Sirius somehow managed to make it look good. He even managed to make it smell good. While ordinarily Remus cringed at the smell, when it lingered on Sirius's clothes or breath, Remus exercised all his self-control not to lean in and take a good whiff, letting it wash over him along with Sirius's natural scent.
Remus was always capable of telling when any one of his best friends was lying, but Sirius especially, because whatever he was feeling was always clearly written on his face. Remus saw the way Sirius looked around him while everyone was seated around the table during Christmas dinner. It was almost grudging. His eyes only softened when they landed on Harry, but even then only momentarily. Sirius was unhappy, it wasn't hard to see that, but Remus was quite assured that when Harry came for the holidays and Grimmauld place filled with people, Sirius would cheer up. Unfortunately, it seemed almost as if what happened was the absolute opposite.
"It's Christmas," Remus remarked.
"Not yet." Sirius threw a quick glance at the clock hanging on the wall above the sink. "Not that it matters, of course."
Remus frowned and Sirius quickly looked away. He reached for his glass and emptied it again, once again reaching for the bottle.
"You don't mean that," Remus said. "You love Christmas. You... You used to..."
It was Remus's turn to turn away when Sirius's eyes snapped to his. This was the first time they were speaking of the past. The year after Sirius's escape, Remus had to content with a few letters from wherever Sirius was hiding, and he was very much looking forward to finally being able to spend time with his sole remaining best friend and talk. Remus couldn't forget the happiness he saw in Sirius's eyes when they first laid eyes on each other after all those years at the Shrieking Shack. That one look, that one bone-crushing hug, left Remus feeling as if nothing had ever changed. As if those thirteen years were nothing when it came to their friendship.
Now that he lived under the same roof as Sirius for three months, however, he could see that it simply couldn't be that easy. Sirius was gloomy and closed up most of the time, and while he was friendly and warm towards Remus, it was as if they were very polite acquaintances and nothing more. Remus had tried to instigate a talk that would finally put everything out in the open between the two of them more than once, but Sirius always seemed to close up and want to leave, stop speaking, or change the subject to something completely arbitrary. Remus tried to not take things personally. Sirius had spent over a decade at Azkaban, after all, and to come out with one's mind completely undamaged after so long was probably impossible. As well, Sirius was taking being stuck at a place that had once been his own personal hell quite hard, and Remus couldn't blame him for it. Even still, he couldn't help the feeling that there was something personal about it. Sirius looked at Remus and no longer saw him the way he had seen him during their school years.
"I've fallen out of the habit of celebrating them," Sirius said nonchalantly. "It was always a big deal, before, when I used to look forward to them. Huge festive dinner at James's, exchanging presents, and joke presents, and trap presents. I must say Christmases are not quite the same at Azkaban." Remus shivered involuntarily at the coldness in Sirius's voice. You wouldn't know was the unsaid sentiment that Remus understood quite clearly without Sirius needing to say it.
"Harry is here, and so am I." Remus said the last part quietly, entirely unsure whether his own presence contributed to any kind of positivity of the season to Sirius. Judging by Sirius's cold behaviour towards him, it wasn't a given that Sirius was happy to have him around. "We had a wonderful dinner tonight; someone who loves food as much as you do should be able to appreciate how much effort Molly had put into it. There will be tons of presents tomorrow, and a big busy breakfast with paper hats and probably all kinds of bollocks courtesy of Fred and George." Remus looked at Sirius with a small smile. "It's the best and realest Christmas I've had in the last thirteen years, too."
Sirius's lip curled and he rolled his eyes, giving Remus an angry look. He opened his mouth and then closed it, as if changing his mind, and simply shook his head.
"C'mon, Sirius, what is it?" The words came out harsher and louder than Remus intended them to, and he could see Sirius wasn't taking kindly to his tone. "Talk to me. Please. Please talk to me," he added softer, quieter, almost pleading. Sirius's features did not relax out of the angry expression Remus's outburst had caused.
"It's bloody Christmas," Sirius growled, "and I'm stuck in this bloody house I bloody hate. Everyone's here, of course it's great and wonderful, but Harry and his friends are talking about all the trouble they're having at school and how miserable they are, everyone else is deep in conversation about Order business all the time when they're all here together, and I sit here and listen like an idiot because I have nothing to say. I can't help my godson, who is being all but executed by that woman, I can't help the Order in any way, and all I am is a burden everyone is constantly worrying about." Sirius's voice was rising, and Remus cast a Silencing Charm on the room quickly. The whole house didn't need to hear this as the clock steadily neared midnight. "You think I don't hear them tiptoe around me as if I'm some kind of crazy lunatic about to blow a fuse? "Oh, just don't say that to Sirius, it will upset him." "Try not to talk about Order missions around Sirius, it makes him feel left out." And, of course, my favourite "Is he in one of his moods tonight?""
Remus could see that Sirius's hands were now shaking as he brought the glass of wine unsteadily to his lips and took a big gulp.
"Sirius, I'm sorry - "
"Sorry? Sorry for what? For the fact that I'm stuck here, or for the fact that you have no idea what it's like? You really need to stop pretending that you do and cut it out with the whole best friend act!"
Remus's eyes widened just as Sirius seemed to have realized what he said and fallen silent. Remus knew there was anger, but didn't know there was this much anger, and especially that there was this much anger directed towards him. He should have known, of course.
He got up from the table and wrapped his arms around Sirius tightly. He knew Sirius, this new post-Azkaban Sirius, anyway, had grown cold towards physical affection, but Remus didn't care about that. There was his friend, his soul mate, in more pain than Remus could stand to see, and Remus couldn't think of anything else. Sirius stiffened in his arms, but Remus brought him close, wrapping his arms tightly around him, ignoring the fact that hugging Sirius was akin to hugging a board.
Sirius wasn't giving in and Remus's body was getting in the way of the platonic hug he had meant it to be, but Remus fought through all that, keeping his grip tight.
"I'm sorry," Remus repeated.
"Don't -"
"No, I'm sorry that I gave up on you, Sirius." Remus leaned back, his arms still on Sirius's shoulders, and gave Sirius a long look. "This is why you're mad at me, isn't it?"
"I'm not mad at you."
"Of course you are. You didn't do anything, Sirius, not a thing, and you were thrown into that horrible place and left there. And I believed it. They showed me all that "undeniable evidence", and I couldn't find a flaw in it, and I was so angry, so I just believed them. Just like that. I never came to visit once. You were left in there all alone, and the one person who should have believed you no matter what, knew you better than that, turned his back on you too." Remus was aware his voice was cracking. "And you're so angry now, at me, too, and you're justified to be, I just wish... I wish there was anything... Something..."
Remus closed his eyes and took a deep shaky breath. He let the smell of alcohol and cigarettes wash over him as he willed his heart to stop racing and threatening to jump out of his throat. How could he have expected for Sirius to come back and be his best friend as if nothing had ever happened? As if Remus hadn't committed a betrayal, too?
He snapped his eyes open when Sirius sighed and moved his body closer to Remus's an inch. Sirius was frowning, his eyes searching Remus's face.
"It's easier," Sirius murmurs. His voice is gentle. "I know this, Remus, but I can't help it. You are here, and I'm free. Anything after Azkaban is heaven, and I should be thankful to be away from there. I have a family around me, I have Harry, and he looks so much like James I sometimes forget he isn't. He talks just like him, too. I have friends and family, something I didn't ever think I'd have again, and war has to end sometime. I should be thankful for what I do have, but all these things I've lost are hurting so much and it's easier to be angry than to have to accept them and deal with them. It's just easier to push people away rather than look into their eyes and see myself through them. It's easier to complain and scream and break things than accept that sometimes, you just can't change what's happened no matter how much you want to."
They stared at each other for what Remus was sure was close to eternity before Sirius reached out his hand and wrapped his fingers around one of Remus's shirt buttons, tugging on it absent-mindedly, running his finger over the cold plastic.
"You must think I am such a git, knowing that I do this and why and still doing it." Sirius chuckled humourlessly, tugging on Remus's button more insistently. "But you haven't changed at all, my friend. You're older and you have more scars and your eyes are even sadder than they were back then, though I never thought it possible, but you're still right here, and no matter how much I push you you just take it because you know I need it, too. I'm so sorry, Remus. I'm angry and I'm a coward."
Suddenly, Sirius leaned in, pressing their bodies together, and pressed his forehead to Remus's. Their noses touched, their lips inches away from each other, and Remus could feel Sirius's hot breath as the brunette started chanting "I'm sorry" under his breath, his eyes closed and his fists clenched on Remus's shoulders hard enough to bruise.
"You git," Remus whispered, "I asked first."
"You have never done anything for me to forgive," Sirius replied, stopping his chanting and opening his eyes.
"I forgive you."
Remus had imagined kissing Sirius many times before, but the kiss they shared was very different from any of Remus's fantasies. It was soft and it tasted of salt and it felt almost as if they were breathing a part of themselves into each other. Even as Sirius growled lowly and deepened the kiss, it was slow and hot and careful.
Remus leaned back for air and looked into Sirius's eyes, clouded with lust but still full of pain and apprehension and fear.
"Merry Christmas," Remus murmured.
"Merry Christmas," Sirius replied and then added, "This is your gift, it's lucky because I didn't get you anything otherwise."
Remus stared for a moment before breaking down into a laugh, burying his head in Sirius's neck.
</lj-cut>
Author: Margot/
midnight_birth.Recipient:
lesyeuxverts00.Rating: PG-13.
Highlight for Warnings: *Some angst, snogging, not much else, really. *
Word Count: 2,620
Prompt: April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers." ~~The Waste Land by T.S.Eliot.
Summary: Sometimes, anger is easier than acceptance.
A/N: Gah, I really hope you like this, dear recipient! I tried to include as many things you mentioned you liked as I could, and I hope that my interpretation of the poem came across at least a little bit. I adore the Waste Land, I must admit, and I was thrilled when I saw it as one of your prompts. I enjoyed writing this immensely, suffice it to say. A humongous thank you to the mods for putting up with my tardiness. ♥
~*~
Remus listened to Kreacher grumbled something as he walked outside his door about "the dark kids never getting to sleep". "The kids", he knew, were still up and talking in their beds, but the house was finally quiet. Molly's food, as usual, incapacitated most, and he himself was starting to feel warm and sleepy. He was waiting, however.
He glanced at the clock. Eleven thirty. Right on time, the stench of cigarettes filled his nostrils and he slipped out of his room and made his way towards the kitchen as quietly as he could, all the while casting spells to prevent the smell from spreading through the rest of the house. Molly, for one, has a serious problem with Sirius's chain-smoking, which was why he had taken to smoking after everyone had gone to bed, but if she were to catch him smoking while her children were in the house, Remus knew no one would hear the end of it. She had found Sirius's cigarettes once, in a Muggle packaging, glanced at the picture on the carton and the warning on the back and Remus remembered thinking her screams would never end.
He walked into the kitchen to find Sirius leaning on the counter in his trousers, a cigarette in his mouth, pulling long and deep with his eyes closed.
"It surely can't be that enjoyable, can it?" he asked, his voice full of amusement, and Sirius jumped and nearly dropped the cigarette.
Sirius pulled himself back together quite quickly, his startled expression melting into a smirk. "Sure is. Want to try?"
Remus rolled his eyes and shook his head, casting another spell. He remembered the first time, in their seventh year, that Sirius had given him one of those. Remus choked and spluttered and coughed and was convinced that he would never breathe again, and was not eager to repeat the experience. He didn't know how Sirius could smoke so smoothly, breathing in the smoke and then blowing it out as if it was as easy as breathing air. It wasn't the same as smoking the pleasant-tasting, smooth pipes at all.
Sirius brought a glass of wine to his lips and finished it with one big gulp, immediately refilling it with the bottle Remus could now see newly opened and already half-gone on the kitchen counter.
"Want?" Sirius waved the bottle at him, and Remus shook his head.
"I'm good with good old tea, thank you."
Sirius watched him as he bustled with the kettle and the tea. Remus was never very comfortable with the staring. Sirius had a habit of watching people intently during the most mundane tasks, and Remus was conscious that whenever Sirius turned such full attention on him he immediately lost all hand-eye coordination and dropped things, his hands trembling slightly. Of course, when it came to Sirius, it wasn't just the looking. He had a similar effect on Remus when he stood too close or didn't wear enough layers or threw his arm around Remus's shoulder. Remus didn't know when he became aware of all this, or perhaps it had always been this way, but being around Sirius was becoming increasingly difficult.
"So what are you doing up?" Remus asked nonchalantly once he had his cup and was seated at the table where he was most unlikely to drop or break anything.
Sirius shrugged and gestured to the cigarette before brining it to his mouth and taking another small pull. Remus observed, as if mesmerized, as Sirius breathed out the smoke, looking down at it. Remus had always thought smoking was a disgusting habit, but Sirius somehow managed to make it look good. He even managed to make it smell good. While ordinarily Remus cringed at the smell, when it lingered on Sirius's clothes or breath, Remus exercised all his self-control not to lean in and take a good whiff, letting it wash over him along with Sirius's natural scent.
Remus was always capable of telling when any one of his best friends was lying, but Sirius especially, because whatever he was feeling was always clearly written on his face. Remus saw the way Sirius looked around him while everyone was seated around the table during Christmas dinner. It was almost grudging. His eyes only softened when they landed on Harry, but even then only momentarily. Sirius was unhappy, it wasn't hard to see that, but Remus was quite assured that when Harry came for the holidays and Grimmauld place filled with people, Sirius would cheer up. Unfortunately, it seemed almost as if what happened was the absolute opposite.
"It's Christmas," Remus remarked.
"Not yet." Sirius threw a quick glance at the clock hanging on the wall above the sink. "Not that it matters, of course."
Remus frowned and Sirius quickly looked away. He reached for his glass and emptied it again, once again reaching for the bottle.
"You don't mean that," Remus said. "You love Christmas. You... You used to..."
It was Remus's turn to turn away when Sirius's eyes snapped to his. This was the first time they were speaking of the past. The year after Sirius's escape, Remus had to content with a few letters from wherever Sirius was hiding, and he was very much looking forward to finally being able to spend time with his sole remaining best friend and talk. Remus couldn't forget the happiness he saw in Sirius's eyes when they first laid eyes on each other after all those years at the Shrieking Shack. That one look, that one bone-crushing hug, left Remus feeling as if nothing had ever changed. As if those thirteen years were nothing when it came to their friendship.
Now that he lived under the same roof as Sirius for three months, however, he could see that it simply couldn't be that easy. Sirius was gloomy and closed up most of the time, and while he was friendly and warm towards Remus, it was as if they were very polite acquaintances and nothing more. Remus had tried to instigate a talk that would finally put everything out in the open between the two of them more than once, but Sirius always seemed to close up and want to leave, stop speaking, or change the subject to something completely arbitrary. Remus tried to not take things personally. Sirius had spent over a decade at Azkaban, after all, and to come out with one's mind completely undamaged after so long was probably impossible. As well, Sirius was taking being stuck at a place that had once been his own personal hell quite hard, and Remus couldn't blame him for it. Even still, he couldn't help the feeling that there was something personal about it. Sirius looked at Remus and no longer saw him the way he had seen him during their school years.
"I've fallen out of the habit of celebrating them," Sirius said nonchalantly. "It was always a big deal, before, when I used to look forward to them. Huge festive dinner at James's, exchanging presents, and joke presents, and trap presents. I must say Christmases are not quite the same at Azkaban." Remus shivered involuntarily at the coldness in Sirius's voice. You wouldn't know was the unsaid sentiment that Remus understood quite clearly without Sirius needing to say it.
"Harry is here, and so am I." Remus said the last part quietly, entirely unsure whether his own presence contributed to any kind of positivity of the season to Sirius. Judging by Sirius's cold behaviour towards him, it wasn't a given that Sirius was happy to have him around. "We had a wonderful dinner tonight; someone who loves food as much as you do should be able to appreciate how much effort Molly had put into it. There will be tons of presents tomorrow, and a big busy breakfast with paper hats and probably all kinds of bollocks courtesy of Fred and George." Remus looked at Sirius with a small smile. "It's the best and realest Christmas I've had in the last thirteen years, too."
Sirius's lip curled and he rolled his eyes, giving Remus an angry look. He opened his mouth and then closed it, as if changing his mind, and simply shook his head.
"C'mon, Sirius, what is it?" The words came out harsher and louder than Remus intended them to, and he could see Sirius wasn't taking kindly to his tone. "Talk to me. Please. Please talk to me," he added softer, quieter, almost pleading. Sirius's features did not relax out of the angry expression Remus's outburst had caused.
"It's bloody Christmas," Sirius growled, "and I'm stuck in this bloody house I bloody hate. Everyone's here, of course it's great and wonderful, but Harry and his friends are talking about all the trouble they're having at school and how miserable they are, everyone else is deep in conversation about Order business all the time when they're all here together, and I sit here and listen like an idiot because I have nothing to say. I can't help my godson, who is being all but executed by that woman, I can't help the Order in any way, and all I am is a burden everyone is constantly worrying about." Sirius's voice was rising, and Remus cast a Silencing Charm on the room quickly. The whole house didn't need to hear this as the clock steadily neared midnight. "You think I don't hear them tiptoe around me as if I'm some kind of crazy lunatic about to blow a fuse? "Oh, just don't say that to Sirius, it will upset him." "Try not to talk about Order missions around Sirius, it makes him feel left out." And, of course, my favourite "Is he in one of his moods tonight?""
Remus could see that Sirius's hands were now shaking as he brought the glass of wine unsteadily to his lips and took a big gulp.
"Sirius, I'm sorry - "
"Sorry? Sorry for what? For the fact that I'm stuck here, or for the fact that you have no idea what it's like? You really need to stop pretending that you do and cut it out with the whole best friend act!"
Remus's eyes widened just as Sirius seemed to have realized what he said and fallen silent. Remus knew there was anger, but didn't know there was this much anger, and especially that there was this much anger directed towards him. He should have known, of course.
He got up from the table and wrapped his arms around Sirius tightly. He knew Sirius, this new post-Azkaban Sirius, anyway, had grown cold towards physical affection, but Remus didn't care about that. There was his friend, his soul mate, in more pain than Remus could stand to see, and Remus couldn't think of anything else. Sirius stiffened in his arms, but Remus brought him close, wrapping his arms tightly around him, ignoring the fact that hugging Sirius was akin to hugging a board.
Sirius wasn't giving in and Remus's body was getting in the way of the platonic hug he had meant it to be, but Remus fought through all that, keeping his grip tight.
"I'm sorry," Remus repeated.
"Don't -"
"No, I'm sorry that I gave up on you, Sirius." Remus leaned back, his arms still on Sirius's shoulders, and gave Sirius a long look. "This is why you're mad at me, isn't it?"
"I'm not mad at you."
"Of course you are. You didn't do anything, Sirius, not a thing, and you were thrown into that horrible place and left there. And I believed it. They showed me all that "undeniable evidence", and I couldn't find a flaw in it, and I was so angry, so I just believed them. Just like that. I never came to visit once. You were left in there all alone, and the one person who should have believed you no matter what, knew you better than that, turned his back on you too." Remus was aware his voice was cracking. "And you're so angry now, at me, too, and you're justified to be, I just wish... I wish there was anything... Something..."
Remus closed his eyes and took a deep shaky breath. He let the smell of alcohol and cigarettes wash over him as he willed his heart to stop racing and threatening to jump out of his throat. How could he have expected for Sirius to come back and be his best friend as if nothing had ever happened? As if Remus hadn't committed a betrayal, too?
He snapped his eyes open when Sirius sighed and moved his body closer to Remus's an inch. Sirius was frowning, his eyes searching Remus's face.
"It's easier," Sirius murmurs. His voice is gentle. "I know this, Remus, but I can't help it. You are here, and I'm free. Anything after Azkaban is heaven, and I should be thankful to be away from there. I have a family around me, I have Harry, and he looks so much like James I sometimes forget he isn't. He talks just like him, too. I have friends and family, something I didn't ever think I'd have again, and war has to end sometime. I should be thankful for what I do have, but all these things I've lost are hurting so much and it's easier to be angry than to have to accept them and deal with them. It's just easier to push people away rather than look into their eyes and see myself through them. It's easier to complain and scream and break things than accept that sometimes, you just can't change what's happened no matter how much you want to."
They stared at each other for what Remus was sure was close to eternity before Sirius reached out his hand and wrapped his fingers around one of Remus's shirt buttons, tugging on it absent-mindedly, running his finger over the cold plastic.
"You must think I am such a git, knowing that I do this and why and still doing it." Sirius chuckled humourlessly, tugging on Remus's button more insistently. "But you haven't changed at all, my friend. You're older and you have more scars and your eyes are even sadder than they were back then, though I never thought it possible, but you're still right here, and no matter how much I push you you just take it because you know I need it, too. I'm so sorry, Remus. I'm angry and I'm a coward."
Suddenly, Sirius leaned in, pressing their bodies together, and pressed his forehead to Remus's. Their noses touched, their lips inches away from each other, and Remus could feel Sirius's hot breath as the brunette started chanting "I'm sorry" under his breath, his eyes closed and his fists clenched on Remus's shoulders hard enough to bruise.
"You git," Remus whispered, "I asked first."
"You have never done anything for me to forgive," Sirius replied, stopping his chanting and opening his eyes.
"I forgive you."
Remus had imagined kissing Sirius many times before, but the kiss they shared was very different from any of Remus's fantasies. It was soft and it tasted of salt and it felt almost as if they were breathing a part of themselves into each other. Even as Sirius growled lowly and deepened the kiss, it was slow and hot and careful.
Remus leaned back for air and looked into Sirius's eyes, clouded with lust but still full of pain and apprehension and fear.
"Merry Christmas," Remus murmured.
"Merry Christmas," Sirius replied and then added, "This is your gift, it's lucky because I didn't get you anything otherwise."
Remus stared for a moment before breaking down into a laugh, burying his head in Sirius's neck.
</lj-cut>
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no subject
Date: 2010-01-02 05:34 pm (UTC)Yay! Thank you for this! I absolutely adore this story.
no subject
Date: 2010-01-05 02:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-02 06:57 pm (UTC)Bravo!
This piece was intensely emotional in the very best of ways and I loved both your Remus and your Sirius immensely. Sirius' mix of pain and self-awareness was truly gorgeous, and I could very much sympathize with him. I've always resented the way he was treated in his own house, but you crafted that pain so beautifully, made worse by the fact that he is fully, gloriously self aware. I should be thankful for what I do have, but all these things I've lost are hurting so much and it's easier to be angry than to have to accept them and deal with them. It's just easier to push people away rather than look into their eyes and see myself through them. It's easier to complain and scream and break things than accept that sometimes, you just can't change what's happened no matter how much you want to. Damn, but that was just heart-breaking. Incredibly true and incredibly real, but still heart-breaking.
I also have to tell you that you wrote the best hug in the history of hugs. And the kiss was pretty damned awesome, too.
Thank you for the happy ending, and for writing something so supremely lovely!
no subject
Date: 2010-01-05 02:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-02 11:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-05 02:52 am (UTC)Um, excuse me. xD Thanks so much! I'm glad you liked!
no subject
Date: 2010-01-03 01:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-05 02:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-03 03:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-05 02:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-03 04:26 am (UTC)And it amuses me that we posted ours on the same day. Nothing says Remus and Sirius and "Happy holidays!" like a bit of Grimmauld Place angst, hm?
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Date: 2010-01-05 03:04 am (UTC)Thanks so much! :) Glad you liked!
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Date: 2010-01-04 02:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-05 03:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-05 01:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-07 08:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-06 07:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-07 08:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-06 01:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-07 08:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-06 02:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-07 08:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-07 09:18 am (UTC)Love for you. <3
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Date: 2010-01-07 09:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-09 01:43 am (UTC)I adored the lovely kiss at the end. &hearts But where I really had that heart swoopy feeling was here:
He snapped his eyes open when Sirius sighed and moved his body closer to Remus's an inch.
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Date: 2010-01-10 12:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-14 05:45 am (UTC)Oh wow. This is so emotional and so REAL. It was beautiful and painful and intense. I'm completely stunned right now.
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Date: 2010-01-14 07:32 am (UTC)