interrobanging

Title: Calm is the Morn
Rating: PG-13
Words: ~2200
Disclaimer: All your characters are belong to Jo.
Prompt: 11 (In Memoriam A.H.H. – XI – Tennyson – “Calm is the morn without a sound.”)
Previous Days: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10
Summary: Sirius wants to make things right with Remus.  Set the morning after the full moon, just a few days after the events of Prompts 9 & 10.  I won’t say there is a kiss in this story … but I won’t deny it, either.  Just read it!  =)

“No,” Sirius says peevishly when Madam Pomfrey wakes him up by trying to extricate Remus from his arms.  “Leave him be, I’ll help him in.” 

 
“Mr. Black, what are you even doing here?” Madam Pomfrey demands, trying to sound stern and scolding, but Sirius knows she’s not going to say anything to anyone. 

 
“Came down at dawn,” he lies.  “Came to see that he was all right.” 

 
Madam Pomfrey casts a few quick healing charms to the more painful-looking scrapes, and leaves Sirius with a handful of bandages and a small jar of soothing balm. 

 
“Bring him in quickly, Mr. Black, and don’t make a spectacle of yourselves,” she says.  “It’s the weekend, I know, but I’ll not have you making a habit of this.”   

 
Sirius gathers Remus closer to himself and nods.  As Madam Pomfrey bustles out of the shack, muttering to herself about those boys always getting up to no good, Remus stirs and makes his quiet, groaning waking-up noises, stretching out his legs and arms and knocking into Sirius in the process. 

 
“What,” he whispers hoarsely, eyes half-closed, turning to see who has a hold of his midsection.  “Padfoot?  What are you doing here?”

 
Sirius feels his stomach flutter and clench, and his throat feels very full. 

 
“Sleeping,” he mumbles as Remus turns over in his arms.  The now-golden morning light bathes Remus’ face, highlighting the angles and planes, flecking his hazel eyes with green and gold and, inexplicably, blue, something Sirius has never seen before in Remus’ eyes, but maybe he just hasn’t been looking closely enough. 

 
Any moment Remus will come to, will wake up fully and jump out of bed and into his clothes, and he will run, but before that happens, Sirius has to tell him – something.  Something to make things right. 

 
“Moony,” he whispers, and his hands slide up and down Remus’ back, trembling against the outline of Remus’ spine.  “I’m so sorry.” 

 
Remus’ hands find the folds of Sirius’ shirt and settle into a loose grip.  He looks so tired. 

 
“I’m sorry, Remus, I, well, I was scared, and then,” Sirius babbles, watching those strangely beautiful multi-colored eyes watching him.  “Moony, you’re one of my best mates, and you’re a bloke, and I’m scared, and Victoria was there.” 

 
Remus nods, looking away.  “I understand.” 

 
“You shouldn’t,” Sirius says forcefully, and his voice sounds far too loud in the still, cold calm of the shack.  “You shouldn’t understand.  It was a completely arse thing to do, Moony, and I’m sorry.  You can, you can break my face if you like, I deserve it.” 

 
A small, sad smile lifts the corners of Remus’ mouth.  “’m not going to break your face, Sirius,” he says.  “But I wanted to.”

 
Sirius almost wishes he would, just do it, punish him for his wrongs, get it over with.  But Remus isn’t like that. 

 
“Look,” Remus says, “you don’t owe me anything, it’s not as if – ” he trails off, shaking his head, and his hands move from Sirius’ shirt to his arms, patting them lightly, like he can’t decide quite what to do.  Then he sits up, wincing, the covers pooling in his lap – his eyes widen a bit as if he’s only now remembered he’s naked.  “I just got the wrong idea,” he says, and his voice is sad and quiet.  He sounds resigned to it, just one more disappointment in a lifetime of the same. 

 
No, you didn’t, Sirius wants to tell him, you got exactly the right idea and I fucked up.

 
He sits up and opens his mouth but his heart is beating too fast, his hands are shaking too badly, and he’s so unused to being this nervous that he can’t make the words come out properly. 

 
“Moony,” he hears himself saying in a tiny voice.  “Moony, no, you didn’t. Remus.” 

 
He presses one trembling hand to the side of Remus’ face, and the other slides up Remus’ arm, over his bruised shoulder, into his hair, and Remus lets out a little breath and watches, unblinking, as Sirius leans closer – far too close, not close enough – and before Sirius can think better of it, can scare himself out of doing it, he presses his mouth to Remus’ forehead, closing his eyes as he does so.  It’s easier, eyes closed.  Not as frightening.  His heartbeat steadies a bit as he holds very still, lips on Moony’s skin. 

 
When he feels a hand on his shoulder, Remus’ hand on his shoulder, and Remus’ other hand on his back, he opens his eyes.  He wants to see this, wants to see everything, even if it makes him have a heart attack.  He gently kisses Remus’ eyebrow, then brushes his lips over the bridge of Remus’ nose.  Then his cheekbone, carefully avoiding a small fresh scrape.  Drawing back, just a bit, just inches, he sees that Moony is wide-eyed, staring at him, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. 

 
“Remus,” Sirius breathes, and at the sound Remus’ eyes flutter closed and he pushes his cheek against Sirius’ hand, and there’s nothing left for Sirius to do but this, to close the space between them, finally, finally pressing his lips against Remus’.  Gentle, almost chaste. 

 
Remus makes a small gasping noise and then he kisses back, his hands tightening their hold on Sirius as his mouth moves slowly, deliciously.  Sirius licks softly at Remus’ bottom lip, and he shivers with pleasure as Remus responds, parting his lips, his tongue warm and searching against Sirius’. 

 
Sirius strokes the side of Remus’ face, fingers moving of their own accord as the kiss deepens, and he thinks he could do this forever, kiss Moony until they’re both a hundred and eighty years old, because it’s the best thing he’s ever felt, the best thing he’s ever done. 

 
They part for air, gasping, and Sirius thinks he should say something, but Remus is grabbing his collar and pulling him in for another kiss, pulling him down onto the mattress.  It’s awkward, lying on their sides, but they don’t stop kissing as Remus rolls onto his back and Sirius straddles his waist, bracing himself with one arm, tangling the other hand in Remus’ hair. 

 
Through the blankets and his jeans, he can feel that Remus is just as turned on as he is, pressing up against him, hard.  It would be so easy, so good, to keep going, to pull back the blankets and take off his clothes and not get in trouble for saying “Moony” when he comes.

 
But he won’t.  Not yet.  This is wonderful, and it feels almost sacred, and he won’t rush it.  He breaks the kiss, nuzzles his nose against Remus’ neck, breathing deeply of the familiar Moony-scent, mumbling “Oh god, oh my god, Remus, Moony.”  He isn’t sure just what he’s trying to say, or if he’ll be able to move, or if Remus can possibly feel as undone as he does. 

 
“Yeah,” Remus whispers, and his arms tighten around Sirius’ back, bringing their bodies flush together.  “Yeah.”

 
“Am I hurting you?” Sirius asks. 

 
“No, I’m fine.  Not so bad this month,” says Remus, never loosening his embrace, pressing a soft kiss against Sirius’ temple, right next to his eye.  “That was – ”

 
“Really fucking brilliant,” Sirius finishes for him, and Remus nods.  “Moony, I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

 
“Really?” 

 
Sirius laughs, watching the shy smile fill up Remus’ face.  This is so strange.  “Really.  Really.  But,” he whispers, his forehead pressed against Remus’. “But Moony.  You’re a bloke.”

 
Remus laughs, a soft, fast, half-wild sound.    

 
“So are you,” he says, drawing back so they can look at one another.  His eyes are a bit hopeful and a bit scared.  “Is that – is that all right?”

Sirius doesn’t know.  As much as he wants it, as good as this feels.  This isn’t something he’s ever done before, this isn’t something he ever expected to happen.  This is Moony, one of his best mates, one of the Marauders, someone he can’t just kiss if he doesn’t mean it.  And he means it – Merlin, does he mean it – and that’s probably the scariest part of all. 

 
“’s all right, Moony.  It’ll have to be,” he says, running his thumbs over Remus’ cheekbones.  “Because I’m going to kiss you again.”

 
Remus nods and licks his lips.  

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Title:  Never Did Run Smooth
Rating: PG
Words: ~1700
Disclaimer: Not my characters, not making any money from this, you know the drill.
Prompt:  10 (Picture of a park w/orange trees, snow dusting the ground, grey sky.)
Previous Days:   1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9
Summary:  Continues the series from previous prompts.  Remus, feeling confused and hurt by Sirius’ recent actions, receives advice from an unexpected source.

Friends, this story is not only in response to Prompt 10 but in honor of JKR’s recent revelation, which made me happier than I can really explain.  Enjoy!  =)

Title: Unsorted
Rating: R
Words: ~1400
Disclaimer: Do not own. 
Prompt: 9 (Autumn – Malcolm Middleton)
Previous Days: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8
Summary: Continues the series from the previous prompts.  Sirius gets freaked out by what’s happening between him and Remus.  This sort of thing doesn’t tend to end well.  It gets better in the next few parts, I promise.    

Feedback makes my day!  =)

Title: Top, Bottom, Sideways

Rating: PG-13

Words: 1100-ish

Disclaimer: Do not own.

Prompt: 8 (St. Keyne)
Previous Days: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Summary: Remus Lupin is not a virgin.

Well … this one may have gotten a bit off track.  The idea of which partner will be the master in marriage turned into a more teenage-boy-ish question.

Title: The Same, But Different
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Do not own.
Prompt: 7 (There are some that only employ words for the purpose of disguising their thoughts. – Voltaire)
Previous Days: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6
Summary:  Around 500 words.  Picks up where Day 6 left off – Sirius’ POV – walking into Hogsmeade together.  

Title: To Autumn
Rating: G
Words: 383
Disclaimer:  All your characters are belong to Jo.
Summary:  Barefoot Boys, Prompt 2 (Keats’ “To Autumn”).  Written after this one (because I’m weird like that), but it takes place at the same time.  Remus’ version of saying hello on Platform 9 ¾.  

Six years ago, autumn terrified Remus. 

Despite Dumbledore’s assurances that everything would be fine, that they would accommodate his special … needs … he was scared.  Scared to transform in a strange place, to wake up without his mother’s soothing hands and potions and gentle cleansing of his wounds.  Scared that the other children would see his scars and wonder – and laugh – and whisper – and figure out what he was hiding.  Scared that he wouldn’t have any friends.  And worse, that he might make friends, only to lose them when they found out. 

This year is different. 

He’s been waiting all summer for autumn to come.  Every day, waiting for Sirius’ owl to tap on his window bearing letters and chocolates and rude drawings of the antics he and James were getting up to.  Waiting for this morning, the morning he’d burst through the barrier onto Platform 9 ¾ and see his friends waiting in the golden autumn sunlight.

Finally it’s here.  

He shoulders his book bag, clutching a bar of dark chocolate and his wand in one hand, and waves goodbye to his parents.

James will be stealing glances at Lily.  Peter will be trying to shake off his mum, who tends to cling to him till the last moment.  Sirius will be standing with his hands in his pockets, hair falling in his eyes, surveying the crowd regally.      

It’s unlikely, he thinks, that Sirius will have saved each letter and folded them carefully and tied them up into a little bundle and tucked them safely into the bottom of his trunk (as he has done).  Improbable, though not impossible. 

Don’t make it into that, he tells himself as he strides toward the barrier, drawing a few curious looks from passing Muggles.  Don’t make it something it’s not.

He leans against the barrier and melts through, into a small crowd of fellow students, into the familiar scene of back-to-school.  Wizards and witches all around, owls hooting and dozing in their cages, steam billowing from the stacks of the cherry-red train. 

And there – there they are, his friends, just as he knew they’d be – he feels his face curling into a grin – and though he hears Peter’s “He’s here!” and James’ “Oi! Moony!” as he walks toward them, he sees only one.

Title:            The Difference, Part 2
Rating:         PG-13 just in case, for language
Pairing:        Remus/Tonks with implied Remus/Sirius
Summary:    Tonks never knew about her husband’s previous relationship. Until now.     
Warnings:    Sad.  And contains major spoilers for Deathly Hallows. 
Disclaimer:   Not my characters.  No money being made.  

This one makes me even sadder than the first part, actually.  I feel bad for Tonks.  I felt so bad for her while writing it but it kind of just flowed out from the first part I wrote and it seemed appropriate to mirror the situation from her POV.  

Comments are my crack, and constructive criticism is always welcome!  =)  

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Title:             The Difference, Part 1  
Rating:          PG
Pairing:         Remus/Tonks – but really, Remus/Sirius
Summary:     It should be the happiest day of his life, but Remus mourns the past. ~2500 words. 
Warnings:     Major spoilers for Deathly Hallows.
Disclaimer:   Not my characters. No money being made.

Constructive criticism welcome -- I am afraid the italics may get a bit confusing but couldn't figure a better way to do it -- anyway, here it is.  It's angsty, and I hope it's not too ... I don't know, mushy, sappy, what have you.  I tried not to fall into that ditch.  Part 2 is a mirror fic from Tonks' POV, will be posted as soon as I'm done editing it!