I, Werewolf: Part 2 (con't)
Jul. 11th, 2010 12:05 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
amulyPairing: Remus/Sirius
Word Count: 5,009/31,252
Rating: R
Summary: Remus and Sirius have been together since third year, but as their fifth year draws to a close, still haven’t had penetrative intercourse. Remus is afraid his condition could cause complications, and the literature on the subject is contradictory or bigoted. Will Sirius and Remus ever get to shag? (Answer: Yes.)
Warnings: Mutual wanks, dirty “talk”
A/N: I’m actually really proud of bits of this part. Hope you guys like it, too.
Split up over two posts because once again, LJ is a cruel, cruel bitch of a site. Just follow the links, should be no problems.
Previous Parts: I
MAKE SURE YOU READ THE FIRST HALF OF THIS POST FIRST.
**
Sirius wanted to slam his door shut, sick to death of deferring to his parents. But he didn’t, because slamming a door (damaging the doorframe) would just earn him yet another punishment. He satisfied his anger by throwing himself on his bed, and slamming his face down onto his pillows a few times.
Parchment crinkled beneath his head butts, and Sirius shoved his hand under the pillow, yanking out his and Remus’ secret message tool. He grabbed the quill and ink he had ready on his nightstand and scribbled on the parchment.
Moony, love, you there?
He didn’t have to wait a minute before a response appeared.
I’m here. Are you alright?
Same as ever. Sirius grumbled even as he wrote the words. Still in that same festering corpse of a house that he’d been in for the past two weeks.
I’m sorry.
Sirius gnawed on his thumb, wondering what to write next. He could tell Remus about the horrid dinner he had just come from, how his mad cousin Bella had tried to seduce him, disgusting incestuous girl that she was. He thought about telling Remus about the fight he had with his parents, again, over the issues of his courting and financial opportunities. But he didn’t want to drag Remus into his world, so instead he just wrote:
Tell me a story. Doesn’t even have to be dirty. Just something.
There was a pause, then words started filling the page. Sirius lay back against his crushed pillows and read.
There was once a young prince. He had beautiful grey eyes, like thunderclouds on a summer’s day. And his hair was black like the night sky. He was kind, and smart, and devilishly handsome. But he was locked in a tower, and couldn’t get away. He tried and he tried, but no matter what he did, the locks wouldn’t break, and the bars wouldn’t rust, and the windows wouldn’t shatter.
There was another young prince. This prince had brown hair, and amber eyes. He was in a different sort of prison. His body was his prison, and would capture and hold him every month, just like the prince in the tower.
One day, the grey-eyed prince was looking out, trying to see the world outside his room. And he saw the other prince – and he fell in love. He called out to the amber-eyed prince “Who are you?” But the prince did not reply. His body was capturing him, stealing him away, and so he could not.
The next day the grey-eyed prince looked out again, in the hopes of seeing his amber-eyed prince again. And he did. And so the handsome prince called out to him again: “Who are you?” And the amber-eyed prince’s body behaved, and did not steal him away, and lock him in his prison. And so he was able to go up to the foot of the grey-eyed prince’s tower, and shout back: “I am the prince of amber eyes, with a body that imprisons, and a heart that longs to break free. Who are you?”
They prince in the tower replied: “I am the prince of grey eyes, with a tower for a prison, and a heart that belongs to you.”
The amber-eyed prince heard this and felt his heart leap. And suddenly, his body wasn’t as harsh a warden, and he was able to help the grey-eyed prince. He stole the prince of the tower away from there, and they ran off together. And the grey-eyed prince could help ease the prison of the prince with the amber eyes’ body, and together they eased each other’s hurt, and loneliness, and captivity.
And so they lived happily ever after.
The end.
Sirius waited a long moment before writing back, staring at the words on the page, trying to memorize them. Suddenly his grip tightened around the parchment, and he scrambled under the bed for a specific box of parchments. Eventually he found them: parchments him and James had spelled to copy other pieces of parchment. He pulled one piece out, then pressed it to the parchment which still displayed Remus’ story. As he pulled it away, the words transferred from one piece of parchment to the next. It was a handy spell the boys had sussed second year for copying notes from one another.
Rolling the parchment containing Remus’ story carefully, Sirius stowed it under his pillow. Finally he wrote back:
You left out the part about how beautiful the amber-eyed prince was.
Even across hundreds of kilometers, Sirius could feel Remus’ blush.
I’m not a narcissist, like some.
Sirius grinned down at the parchment. This felt good – this felt right. Bantering with Remus, joking around. That was home for Sirius, that was happiness. Not this hideous place, with its ancient, dark magic around every curtain and chandelier.
The floorboards outside his room creaked, and Sirius froze, every nerve-ending wired as he listened for further noises. He held his breath until his lungs felt fit to burst, but still nothing. After two minutes his parchment was glowing at him: a soft, pulsing light, telling him that were new messages from Remus on there. Finally, satisfied that there was no one outside his room, Sirius picked up the paper.
Padfoot? Padfoot?
Padfoot, I was just teasing.
Padfoot?
Padfoot, I love you. I was just teasing.
Padfoot, are you there?
I’m going to stop messaging, Padfoot, but I’m still here, if you need me. I’ve got the paper with me in bed: message at any time.
Sirius grabbed his quill and scribbled on the paper.
Sorry, sorry! I wasn’t mad: I thought I heard a noise.
Remus’ relief was palpable in his next sentence: Oh, good. You had me worried. Was the noise anything?
Sirius shook his head subconsciously as he wrote. No. Just the house – you know how it is. He gnawed on his lower lip for a moment before adding: I think I’m going to bed now. I’m wrecked after all the parties and everything.
A pause, then Remus’ reply appeared. That’s alright. Guess I’ll have to wank without your help, tonight.
Sirius grunted and shifted, erection growing in his pajama bottoms. Great. Now all he could think of was Remus wanking. Wait! Sirius ran a hand through his hair, considering. He really was exhausted. But he couldn’t have Remus wanking alone in his room – even if the parchment was poor substitute for Sirius actually being there with him. In the end, Remus took the decision out of Sirius’ hands.
I’m already hard, Padfoot. My left hand is all sticky with precome.
Fuck. Without a second’s thought, Sirius’ left hand dove beneath his sheets and pajama bottoms, tugging a firm path up his shaft. It had been awkward at first, trying to wank with their left hands. But the only other options were either write with their left, which neither Sirius nor Remus had managed to make legible, hard as they tried; or, alternate wanking and writing, so that one would write, the other wank, and then they’d switch off. The problem with that was that neither was even patient enough to finish their dirty descriptions before he stopped to have a wank, and the boy on the other side of the parchment was always left waiting.
Me too, Moony. Keep going.
I already wrote loads tonight. It’s your turn.
Sirius grumbled, but thought for a moment, hand stilling over his arousal. Finally he dipped his quill in ink and started writing.
If I were there, I’d go down on you. Suck you into my mouth, back into my throat. I’ve been practicing controlling my gag reflex. When I see you again, first thing we’re gonna do is you’re gonna fuck my throat.
Sirius’ breath hitched, and he allowed himself a quick break to let his eyes flutter closed as he thrust his hips gently up into his hand. The bed sheets moved above his body, making what he was doing obvious. He dipped his quill again and kept writing. Love it when you come down my throat. Love the taste of it. Love the smell of you when I’m down there, sucking you dry.
Sirius groaned, pausing writing again. He was imagining the scenes he was writing: sucking Remus, the taste of him on his tongue, the feel of that hot piece of flesh, heavy on his tongue.
Close, Moony.
A moment later, Remus wrote back. Me too. What about my balls?
Shit. Sirius’ eyes snapped shut as he pictured sucking Remus’ balls into his mouth, individually, and then the whole sack. Rolling it around in his mouth, tasting them…
I’ll suck… Sirius had to pause there as his hips twitched and spasmed in their rhythm. Not quite, but almost…into my mouth. Roll around. Tastes good…
Sirius dropped the quill, fisting his cock rapidly as his orgasm approached. Within a few sharp tugs he came, hips thrusting sharply up against the bed sheets. He cupped his hand over the head, catching the come as it came spurting out. A moment later, and he was collapsing against his pillows, sweaty and panting. With a grumble he kicked the sheets off of him and lay there, basking in the cool night air of his bedroom.
The page was glowing at him again. Sirius leaned over the side of the bed and rummaged around until he found a dirty sock. He wiped his hand off on it, then rolled back over and grabbed for the parchment.
Came.
Sirius grinned. Me too.
Now Sirius really was exhausted, and his eyelids started to droop. He picked up his no-spill inkpot (thank goodness, otherwise his sheets would be covered with ink stains by now) and scribbled a quick message. Wiped me out. I’m going to bed. Night Moony.
Night, Padfoot. Love you.
Sirius smiled down at the sheet, fingers brushing gently over the words there.
Love you, too. With that, Sirius tossed aside his ink and quill, and curled up with his sheet of parchment, falling fast asleep.
**
Three weeks. Sirius jiggled his leg at the table as he stared at the clock on the mantelpiece. Moonrise. Remus would be locked up in his parent’s basement, tearing at himself, trying desperately to be free. Would Moony know what to do without Padfoot? He hadn’t spent a moon without Padfoot since Sirius had succeeded with the change. Would it be worse? Would his parents take care of his injuries? But that was silly, of course they would: they had been tending to Remus long before Sirius…
“Sirius? Sirius!”
Sirius jumped, rattling the fine china and silverware that covered the dinning room table. His mother was glaring down at him, eyes shooting venom.
“Sorry. What?”
The adults, and their children, around the table snickered at him. There was no lack of haughty looks thrown his way. He was a Gryffindor, which meant he was more balls than brains, according to the Slytherins seated here.
His mother pulled her shoulders back, chin jutting out haughtily. “Your cousin, Bellatrix, asked you a question.”
Sirius turned and gaped owlishly at Bellatrix, sitting one person down from him. “I was just wondering if you’d be my escort to the Malfoy’s ball, in a month?” Sirius cringed. Bellatrix was all smiles and politeness, but in her eyes…that way lay madness. There was sort of a crazed intensity to her, like lightening in a bottle. He was certain the moment anyone unleashed her, she’d destroy everyone she touched.
Sirius glanced back to his mother. She was raising her eyebrows, in that spine-chilling look of matronly reproach. “Um…”
His father cut in. “Of course he’ll be. Won’t you, Sirius?”
Sirius’ eyes darted around. The entire bloody table was staring at him: Bellatrix and her sisters, the Malfoy clan, his mother, father and brother…Sirius felt like the air had been suddenly sucked out of the room. The clock kept ticking in the corner, as if in steady reproach: Re-mus. Re-mus. Re-mus. Full-moon. Full-moon. Full-moon. Re-mus. Full-moon. Re-mus. Full-moon. Re-mus. Full-moon…
Sirius bolted upright, sending his chair clattering backwards. “I…um. Excuse me.”
He raced out of the room, leaving confusion and condescending laughter in his wake.
Sirius stopped once he reached the stairway, leaning heavily on the banister. His blood thrummed through his ears. All he could think of was Remus: how much he must be hurting, how he couldn’t help, how badly Sirius wanted to be in his arms, or have Remus in his.
“Sirius Orion Black! What do you think you’re doing?” His mother’s voice screeched at him as she approached. He turned to look at her, and spotted his father following her closely.
“Young man, let’s adjourn to my study.”
Bollocks. Nothing good ever happened in Orion Black’s study. But Sirius had no choice, and so he followed his parents up the stairs and down the hallway. As Orion shut the door behind them, Sirius could swear the click of the door was really the final click of his deathwatch beetle.
He stood, feeling much shorter than his newly gained height. His father was standing behind his desk, his mother next to him. “Son. We need to talk about marriage. You are the heir to the House of Black. We need to find a suitable match for you, and quickly.” His father paused, inclining his head toward his wife, before continuing. “Your mother tells me that the Malfoy boy is courting Narcissa. You would do well to court her sister, Bellatrix.”
His mother nodded, breaking in. “Your children would have lovely cheekbones.”
Sirius gaped at them. “But…but I can’t! I…”
His father took a breath, then started forward, around his desk. It was the closest Sirius had stood to his father in years. “Sirius, it’s time you understand. These marriages aren’t for you to decide. Whatever things you might have been doing at school,” he paused, lips curling upward delicately, “they are to be left at school.”
“Regulus told you, didn’t he?” Sirius was panicking now, chest heaving. So many of the other students knew about him and Remus, especially after the new Gryffindor locker room rule. Pretty much the entire student body knew, by then. It was sure to have gotten over to the Slytherins. And Snivellus certainly knew – Sirius might have let him catch him and Remus at it a few times, just for laughs. “Well, I don’t care what you think! I…I’m with Remus!”
Cold fear rippled through Sirius’ body as he stood in front of his father. His mother still stood behind the desk, barely-restrained insanity crackling behind her eyes. His father, however, did nothing more than shrug. “Is this Remus a schoolmate you have a crush on? Whoever she is, you can be with her all you want. Just marry Bellatrix.”
“Him!” Sirius shouted, before he could think. “Remus is my best mate! And I love him!”
Orion Black shrugged. “Then be with him.”
Sirius stopped. A clock ticked somewhere in the room, telling Sirius every second that Remus was spending alone this full moon. His mother and father stood there, regarding him coolly, as the sounds from the dinner party tinkled up the stairs to them.
“I…what?”
Orion Black sighed, shaking his head. “As old as you think you are, you are still such a boy in the ways of the world. I have two mistresses on the side. Stay with this Remus fellow, if you want. But marry Bellatrix.”
Sirius’ eyes immediately flickered back to his mother, who was standing there, impassively. He almost felt a rush of pity for her. But the madness was still there, behind her eyes, and it was with ease that he suppressed the emotion.
“I’m…I’m not going to do that!” Sirius spluttered.
His father raised a cool eyebrow. “Marry Bellatrix?”
Sirius shook his head, vehemently. It was all so confusing. He hadn’t expected this, for his parents to not even care about him and Remus. This blasé acceptance, followed by their expectations of him…Sirius didn’t know what to do with it.
“No, I won’t keep Remus as a mi- a mistress.”
His father shrugged. “Fine, this Remus fellow doesn’t matter. So it’s agreed.” He clapped his hands together, turning toward Walburga before facing Sirius again, “You’ll be Bellatrix’s escort to the Malfoy’s-”
“No!” Sirius shouted. “I’m not letting go of Remus! I love him, and I’m not going to push him to the side for a wife!”
Walburga stepped forward now, all barely-restrained venom. “We’re not asking you to love Bellatrix. Just make sure the Black family has heirs.”
Sirius looked between father and mother. His father was stern, calm, regal; his mother, mad but beautiful, with her high cheekbones and flashing grey eyes. They were his parents: he looked like them, he moved like them, sometimes he knew he could even have his mother’s temper, and his father’s haughty disdain. But he wasn’t them. He wasn’t.
“I…I can’t do that.”
His mother started forward, hand raised to strike. Sirius flinched instinctively, but the angry blow never came. His father reached out and held her back, with a gentle hand to her elbow. “Fine,” he said. “If you don’t want to marry, produce heirs…” he paused, glancing over at his wife, “then you are disowned.”
Sirius glanced between them. What was this? Some sort of test?
His father was continuing. “Disownment means no money, no inheritance, no social support. You and that Remus fellow of yours better be capable of getting Ministry jobs without our familial connections, otherwise you can expect to be living in some dingy flat in some forsaken part of the country.”
“Like Wales,” his mother hissed.
Suddenly coming to a decision, Sirius threw his shoulders back. “Fine!” The clock tick-tocked in the background, urging him on. Re-mus. Re-mus. Re-mus. “Disown me! I don’t care!”
He ran out of the room, straight up to his. The sounds of the dinner party downstairs still drifted up to him as he packed. There were no distinct words, but he could tell the tone of them: superior, proud. Everything he hated about his family and their relatives. Everything he hated about his life.
He grabbed his school trunk out from under his bed and started shoving everything he could into it. Lastly he grabbed his and Remus’ enchanted parchment and tucked it into the waistband of his jeans. No way was he taking a chance with that. He grabbed his wand, shucked on a robe, and was out the door. His owl would find him wherever he went.
He stormed down the steps and to the entranceway, only to be stopped by Regulus, of all people. “Regulus, what are you doing?”
His little brother jut his chin out. “I could ask the same of you.”
Sirius rolled his eyes. “Cut the aristocrat act, Regulus, and get out of my way. I’m leaving.”
“But…” Just for a moment, Regulus’ eyes flickered, and an expression of true concern crossed his face. “Sirius, if you leave, you can’t ever come back.”
Continue onto Part 3 here.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2010-07-11 05:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-11 05:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-11 05:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-11 07:43 am (UTC)anyway, i loooove the little fairytale, it was so cute <3.
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Date: 2010-07-11 08:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-11 10:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-11 01:35 pm (UTC)And it's pretty much completed. I've got, like, a scene and a half left to write. So expect quick updates!
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Date: 2010-07-11 01:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-11 01:36 pm (UTC)So glad you liked the fairy tale especially; it was one of my personal favorite bits.
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Date: 2010-07-11 09:46 pm (UTC)Great story! Can't wait for more! I love your character voices; I like when the Marauders have an easy camaraderie and can openly discuss Remus and Sirius's relationship.
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Date: 2010-07-12 12:26 am (UTC)Glad you like it! I mostly write fics where all the Marauders are cool w/ Siri and Remi, though every once in a while I'll switch it up for good measure.
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Date: 2010-07-12 07:02 am (UTC)<3
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Date: 2010-07-12 02:39 pm (UTC)