I, Werewolf: Part 3

[amuly]

Title: I, Werewolf: Part 3
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Word Count: 8,727/31,252
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: perineum stimulation, mentions of rimming
A/N: Long-ass Part, but the only place I could have cut this off would have made it too short, in my opinion, so here you ago. Again, split into two pieces because LJ is a bloated, fetid corpse rotting in the gutters amid the filth that is low word counts.

Previous Parts: I, II

            He had planned on walking a ways, but Sirius quickly realized that the size and weight of his trunk was making that impossible. So he hauled it to the edge of the curb and pulled out his wand, to signal the Knight Bus.

            There, he paused for a moment. Where would he go? There were only three places, since he didn’t have any money for a room at the Leaky Cauldron: James, Remus, or Peter. Peter was traveling abroad with his folks, so that ruled him out – as if Sirius had any desire to spend his summer with Wormtail. Remus…Sirius shook himself. He couldn’t go to Remus’. Not only was it a full moon tonight, but he could never impose on Remus’ folks like that. They didn’t have a spare bedroom, and though they might not be poor, they would certainly be better off without having to feed another teenage boy for nine weeks. Plus, Sirius couldn’t risk Remus to the wrath of his mother.

            So that left James, then. The Potter’s had always been good folk, and they were well off enough to not hurt for putting Sirius up until school started up again. Moreover, they were purebloods. Therefore his mother’s reach didn’t extend there, since she’d never hurt purebloods in any obvious fashion, blood-traitors though they may be. James’ it was, then.

            He waved his wand hand, signaling for the bus. With a flash and a bang, the bus screeched to a halt in front of him. “Where you off to, mate?” The porter was already scrambling to help Sirius with his trunk.

            “Potter residence?”

            The porter nodded. “Fifteen sickles.” Sirius rummaged through his pocket, finding enough change to pay the man, and give him a tip. He settled in the back of the bus, staring to the window as the bus whizzed through the streets of London. The enchanted parchment crinkled against his skin. He wanted to pull it out, talk to Remus, tell him what was going on. But he couldn’t – not tonight. So instead he contended himself by unrolling it and revealing the copy parchments: all the pieces of paper he had used to copy various snippets of conversation from the past few weeks.

            Love you, Padfoot.

            Oi! I say it once, now you got to be a great big soppy git about it.

            Well, I do love you, Pads. And you love me, so don’t even act like it’s all soppy.

            Yeah, well…

            Well?

            Well, Mister Moony…you know, we should get a flat together. After Hogwarts.

            What?

            Yeah. I mean, I know it’s two years away, but you know I can’t stand this place. As soon as I’m out, I’m getting a job, even if it’s dishwashing or something. And I’m getting my own place. So, figured, you know…

            Figured you’d want me available to shag every night?

            Hey! Not just that. I just…it’d be weird not living together, you know? I mean, we do at Hogwarts, and whenever I gotta leave for hols, I…

            You…

            I miss you, Moony. Geeze.

            I miss you too, Padfoot.

            I love you.

            Now look who’s being a soppy git.

            Oi! Well, will you?

            I’ll have to think about it, Padfoot. I mean, I might not be able to get a job after Hogwarts, so I wouldn’t be able to pay my half of the rent or anything.

            Okay, how about this: assuming everything works out – like, jobs, and locations, and everything – would you live with me?

            Assuming the world behaves for once and doesn’t treat me like shit? Yes. I’ll live with you.

            “Potter residence!” Sirius wiped the back of his hand across his eyes: it came away wet. He rolled up the parchments and tucked them back into his waistband before standing up and making his way off the bus.

            His trunk was waiting for him as he stepped off the bus. With a nod and a wave, the bus was off again, speeding out into the night.

            Sirius managed to lug his trunk up to the front door of the Potter residence. He knocked – loudly – hoping that they wouldn’t be too put-out by a sixteen year old runaway showing up on their doorstep in the middle of the night. A moment later, he kicked himself for his doubts.

            The door swung open, revealing a disgruntled Mr. Potter. “’Ello?”

            “Mr. Potter? It’s…um…Sirius Black. James’ friend? I…I was wondering…”

            The older man blinked down at Sirius. “James’ friend? I know who you are. Are…was there supposed to be a sleep-over? I thought your parents didn’t like you spending time away from them?”

            Sirius blushed, scuffing his toe on the doormat. “I…I sort of…left. Home. I was wondering if you might…put me up? Just for a bit…”

            Mrs. Potter was there now, pushing her husband aside. “Sirius? Why, darling, did you run away? Oh, come in, come in!” She shoved her husband aside. “Honestly, making the poor boy stand outside. Come on, we’ll get you a nice mug of tea – how’s that sound? Go and wake James!” The last sentence was directed at her husband, who blinked slowly, then finally nodded.

            “Oh, right. ‘Course.” He started away, up the stairs, ruffling his hair and looking for all the world just like James when Sirius woke him up in the middle of the night.

            “Here you go, dear. Kettle’s on. You just give me your things,” with a wave of her wand Mrs. Potter levitated the trunk and sent it upstairs. “We’ll set you up in the spare bedroom. Nothing to worry about, dear.”

            Sirius’ eyes brimmed with tears. “Th-thank you, Mrs. Potter. I’m sorry to have to barge in here like this…”

            “Oh…” she poured tea into four mugs, setting the first one in front of Sirius. With a wave of her hands, she dismissed any concerns that Sirius might have. “Don’t be ridiculous. We said you were always welcome here, and we meant it.”

            “It’s about time you left that horrid family, anyway.” Mr. Potter’s voice cut in from the doorway, as he entered the kitchen. He accepted a mug of tea from his wife, then turned to Sirius. “James is on his way down; he just had to throw on a shirt and robe.”

            Sirius rolled his eyes. Not like he hadn’t seen James indecent in the Quidditch locker room. But, he supposed, for propriety’s sake…

            “Sirius! You old dog, what have you done?!”

            “Young dog, thanks much!” Sirius shot back to James, who was already enveloping him in a hug. “And, it looks like I’ve gotten myself disowned. Apparently.”

            With a wave of his hands all-too-similar to his mother’s, James pushed all the worrisome implications of that aside. “Eh, who needs your familial connections, huh? You’re better off without them.” Through all his light-heartedness, James’ eyes were genuinely concerned, and for that, Sirius was grateful. “Listen, why don’t you grab your mug, get you upstairs and settled in.”

            Mrs. Potter nodded in agreement with her son. “Go ahead, boys. We’ll sort this all out in the morning, when everyone’s had a good night’s sleep. Come along.”

            James and Sirius hurried upstairs, Sirius throwing down one more string of “thank you’s” to Mr. and Mrs. Potter, who waved them aside and reassured him that it was the least they could do. Once they got upstairs, James dragged Sirius into his bedroom, urging him to worry about unpacking and sorting his stuff out later.

            “Alright, mate. Spill.”

            Sirius ran a hand through his hair. His communications with James so far this summer about his home life had been even more sparse and vague than his with Remus. He didn’t even know himself exactly what it was that made him leave – why this argument was any different than the ones he had with his parents in the past. It wasn’t like he wasn’t aware of the pureblood marrying practices, that his parents would expect him to marry one of his many female relatives one day. It just suddenly seemed so much more imminent, and real. And with Remus suffering tonight…Sirius quenched the niggling thought that it was Remus that made him finally leave. If Remus ever found out, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself.

            He decided to lay it out as simply for possible for James. “They wanted me to marry Bellatrix.”

            James stuck out his tongue and gagged loudly. “Ugh! Gross! Oh man, that sucks.” He craned his neck past Sirius, then shuffled off the bed to shut the door. Returning he asked, “D’they, you know, know about…”

            Sirius blushed. “They do now.”

            James placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. “That’s rotten, mate. Sorry.”

            Frustration swept through Sirius. “They didn’t even care, though! I told them I’m not leaving Remus, and that he’s a bloke, and all, and my dad just said to keep him on as a mistress. A mistress! Isn’t that…that’s so…” Sirius heaved a sigh, at a loss for words.

            “That’s right bollocksed up, mate, is what that is.”

            “Yeah.” Sirius let out a breath. “Yeah.” His gaze drifted out James’ window, seeking out the full moon.

            “Watching the charts?”

            Sirius shot James a look, a, I-can’t-believe-you-just-asked-me-that look. “’Course I am.”

            James nibbled at his lower lip. “Is that why you came here? Instead of going to his?”

            It was with a sudden rush of clarity that Sirius realized the insecurity behind James’ words. “What? No!” He gripped James’ shoulder fiercely. “You’re my best mate, James! I mean, what, am I gonna stop being yours when Lily finally comes to her senses and marries you?”

            James’ crooked grin reappeared on his face. “’Course not. But, you know, Lily’s a bird. Difference.”

            Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Hey, me and Remus have done more together as boyfriends than Lily’s ever done with you.” Or will ever let you do, thought Sirius, grinning smugly to himself.

            James wrinkled his nose. “Okay, stop thinking, right now. Whatever you’re thinking about, please, please stop. You’re grossing me out.”

            “And anyways,” Sirius continued, ignoring James, “His family’s not as well off as yours. Me being there, it’d be a strain.”

            Looking reassured, James nodded. “Alright. So long as you didn’t come to me just because you decided to leave home on the one night out of twenty-eight that you couldn’t go to Moony’s.”

            The parchment crinkled in Sirius’ waistband as he shifted on James’ bed. Yeah, and the one night out of twenty-eight that he couldn’t talk to Remus about everything that was happening. He’d have to write him a letter – a proper letter – detailing everything that had happened, and where to find him, as soon as his owl found him.

            Sirius faked a yawn. “Listen, James, I’m beat. I’m just gonna…” he tossed a thumb over his shoulder, toward the guest room.

            “Yeah, mate, no problem.” James pulled him in for one last manly hug. “Get some rest. Mum always says that everything looks better in the morning.”

            With that, Sirius made his escape, shutting himself up in the Potter’s spare room. The sheets were already turned down for him – bless Mrs. Potter. As he tore off his clothing, he noticed a tapping at his window. It was Eleanor, his owl. And she had a note attached to her foot. He opened the window, letting her in. She flew around the room, as is she were giving it an once-over. Apparently satisfied, she came to rest on his headboard, hooting at him and waving her foot.

            He went over and stroked her, head to tail, so that she chirruped happily at him. “Sorry, girl. I’ll ask the Potter’s for food and everything tomorrow. First paycheck I manage to pick up, I’ll buy you a new cage. How’s that sound?” She chirruped again, waving her foot at him. “Alright, alright.” The letter was more of a note, and as he read it, unexpected tears filled his eyes.

            Mum scorched your face off the tapestry. Don’t bother coming back.

                        -Reg

            It shouldn’t bother him. It really shouldn’t. But that didn’t stop the tears for welling up in Sirius’ eyes, or the aching need to talk to Remus fill his heart. Sirius shook himself, finally scrounging through his trunk for some bedclothes. As an afterthought, he grabbed an ink and parchment – the non-enchanted kind – and crawled into bed with it, trying to compose a letter to Remus.

            Remus,

            I left home.

            How was the full?

            I love you.

            Please come to James’.

            Frustrated, Sirius crumbled up the parchment and threw it to the side. As the moonlight filtered into the guest room window, Sirius tried to fall to sleep. It was several hours until he succeeded.

**

            The next morning after a hearty breakfast from Mrs. Potter, James and Sirius sat on the front porch, staring at dozens of crumpled pieces of parchment.

            “Just tell him,” James was saying. “It doesn’t have to be a big deal. You’ll talk to him once he gets here, right?”

            “But it was just the full! I don’t want to upset him.”

            James kicked at a piece of parchment, sending it flying out onto the front lawn. It skidded to a stop temporarily, then started rocking back and forth in the breeze. “Don’t you think he’ll be more upset if you wait to tell him?”

            Bollocks. Sirius stared down at the parchment.

            “You’re mum won’t mind if he comes over?”

            James shook his head. “She already told you to invite him. Pete’ll be coming in another few days, as soon as he’s back from France or Germany or wherever his mum has him now.”

            Sirius chewed his lip – already red and raw from too much worrying this morning – and dipped his quill into his inkpot for what felt like the hundredth time that morning.

            Remus,

            I’m sorry. I know it was just the full, and I want to find out how it went and how you are. But first you need to know something.

            I ran away from home. I’m over at James’. Peter says he’ll be heading over in a few days, and I thought you could come over, too, as soon as you’re feeling up to it.

            I’m sorry. I have rotten timing.

            Write me, please.

            Love,

            Sirius

            Sirius tried to keep the letter hidden, but James was reading over his shoulder before he could conceal it. “Ugh. Love? Since when did you get so soppy?”

            Folding the letter in half and sealing it, Sirius glared at James. “Since I fell in love with Remus. Now back off.”

            James took a step back, hands held palms out in surrender. He stayed silent as Sirius whistled for Eleanor. She flew over to his shoulder, hooting softly. Mrs. Potter had given her some of their owl food that morning, and Eleanor was all the happier for it. “This is for Remus, alright? Lupin. You remember where he lives?” Eleanor hooted. “There’s an extra mouse in it for you if you deliver it quickly. But wait for a reply, alright?”

            Eleanor hooted again, waggling her foot at Sirius. He secured the letter, and then she was off, flapping for height until she caught an updraft and soared away. It wasn’t until James coughed behind him, that Sirius realized he had been staring after her.

            “Did…have you guys actually said, you know, ‘love’?”

            Sirius glared at James. Sometimes he could be a real berk about the whole thing. “Yes, James, we have. I’ve also had my tongue up his arse, you wanna hear about that?”

            “Oh! Merlin! No! Ugh!” James’ face turned a brilliant green-red, caught between embarrassment and nausea. “Why…no! No! I don’t…ugh! That was the night, too, wasn’t it? Ugh! I’m gonna…”

            James flapped his hands keeping Sirius away from him. He disappeared into the house, kicking his way through the piles of wasted parchment on the porch. He hoped Remus was alright. And he hoped he understood.

**

            Sirius refused to eat lunch. And dinner. It was dark out, and the Potter family was sitting downstairs, playing a game of exploding snap. James had practically dragged Sirius down the stairs to try and get to him to join in, but Sirius refused that, too. He couldn’t do anything: not until he had his reply from Remus.

            Finally, as the Potter’s were saying their goodnights and climbing into bed, Sirius heard a tapping on his window. He rushed to push it open, and in flew Eleanor, fluttering around his room and nosing into his luggage. “Hey, hey, alright, calm down.” He snatched the note off her leg and stroked her soothingly. “You want a mouse, don’t you? Come on, come down to the kitchen and we’ll get it.”

            Sirius kept the note clutched in his hand. He’d been waiting all day for Remus’ response, but now he didn’t much feel like opening it. So he waited – fed Eleanor, let her outside, made sure she was secure on her perch. Then, with a quick glance at the not-quite-full moon, he sat down on the porch steps and opened the letter.

            Sirius,

            I’m sorry to hear about you leaving home – though happy that you left. Is that terrible of me? I tried writing you, but you weren’t picking up. And your owl is here pecking at my bandages for a reply, so I guess you want to talk to me this way.

            Are you mad?

            Mum says I can come over in two days: she wants to make sure I’m fully healed before traveling. I told her I’m fine to go tomorrow, but she insisted. It’s weird, her coddling me. Especially since I know we’ve gotten up to much more vigorous things a day after the full than just traveling (and I’m not just talking about that, you wanker).

            I’ll see you in two days. Please message me.

            Love,

            Remus

            Upon finishing the letter, Sirius rushed into the house and up the stairs. He had kept the parchment hidden under his pillow all day – afraid of what he might read. Yanking it out now, he saw a list of messages Remus tried to send him.

            Padfoot?

            Padfoot, are you alright?

            Padfoot, I got your letter.

            Pads?

            Are you safe?

            I’m writing you back.

            Please write to me.

            Sirius dove for his quill and inkpot, scribbling a quick “I’m here” on the paper.

            Not even thirty seconds later, the parchment glowed with a reply.

            Padfoot? Are you safe at Prongs’?

            Sirius scribbled back quickly. Safe. At James’. He paused, then quickly added Are you alright? How was the full?

            Fine. And don’t try and change the subject – I go through full all the time; not like you run away from home every day.

            You don’t go through it all the time without me.

            There was a longer pause between messages this time. Sirius worried that maybe he had said too much, pushed too hard. But then the paper was glowing again with Remus’ reply.

             I did before.

            Sirius waited, but nothing more came through. So he wrote back to Remus: Are you mad at me?

            Why do you think that?

            Sirius frowned. That’s not a no.

            An even longer pause this time: Sirius was getting worried. This was why he had wanted to have this conversation face-to-face. Remus couldn’t hide behind smooth words or empty platitudes. He would be able to see Remus, and know what he was feeling. Now it was just…a piece of parchment.

            Finally, the parchment glowed again. After reading the message, Sirius almost wished Remus hadn’t replied.

            Why’d you go to James’?

            Sirius replied immediately. 1.] It was the full. Shite timing, I know. 2.] James has a spare room, you don’t. 3.] Mother knows James and where he lives, but can’t hurt him because he’s pureblood and it’d look bad. You don’t have that same protection.

            He tactfully left out the fourth reason: that the Potter’s could afford to feed another mouth for the rest of the summer. After another pause the paper glowed again.

            You sure? There’re no other reasons?

            Sirius sighed. First he had to reassure James that he really wanted to be at his, now he had to reassure Remus that he really wanted to be there. And honestly, both were true. James was his brother – unlike that Slytherin who was still at Grimmauld – so of course he’d come to the Potter’s, and of course he’d want to be here. But Remus was his…well, boyfriend, or something – though boyfriend seemed like such a temporary phrase for someone whom Sirius knew he never wanted to be apart from. Lover? Kind of girly. Partner? Better, though sounded kind of grown-up. Whatever Remus was, he meant everything to Sirius. All the more reason Sirius had to protect him, to make sure all this insanity never reached him.

            I just want you safe, Remus. I want to spend every minute I can with you, but you need to be safe, too.

            His answer apparently satisfied Remus, because a moment later he was writing back.

            Okay, just checking. Want to wank?

            Sirius stifled his laughter, but quickly shucked off his robes and slid under the sheets, parchment gripped firmly between his fingers.

Continue on reading Part 3 here.