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swordliliesandebony-blog · 7 years ago

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A Bit of Fun [Remus/Sirius Oneshot]

Rating: Hard M / Light E.

[Read it on Ao3]

‘Just a bit of fun.’

Leave it to Sirius to put it that way, with his hand running down the front of trousers, with their shoulders pressed together, with a robe so easily concealing what one—what two might get up to in a deserted common room far after the usual point of slumber. Leave it to Remus to let his mind linger on those words for days and nights to follow, even with the distinct memory of lips wrapped around his cock to otherwise occupy him.

It had been terribly out of line.

Remus reminds himself that the odds of being caught were slim to the point of nonexistence. That they could have just as easily done the same in the dormitory—that he himself has done plenty of imagining to those ends in the dormitory—and it might not have felt so impossibly illicit. Or perhaps it still would have, with veils of dark fabric and dark hair concealing the utterly fantastic work done on him.

Work he can't even truly appreciate, because those damned words words refuse to leave his mind. Just a bit of fun. But that's all it ever is with Sirius, isn't it? His stomach coils angrily with the idea, the thought roiling through him for what must be the thousandth time. At perfect odds with what any amount of joking might say, a good lay hasn't exactly fixed Remus' mood. It has, in fact, darkened it more than was rightly fair or (and even he had to admit it) logical.

He wouldn't even be here if it weren't for an incredible bout of ill timing—all due thanks given to lunar cycles—rendering holiday travel entirely out of the question. So their friends had filtered away until it truly felt like only the two of them remained in the school. And as for Gryffindor, that seemed to be exactly the case. Thus, a bit of fun. Thus, an empty common room to snog and suck and, more pressingly, brood in. Remus fancied himself an absolutely excellent brooder.

Whatever Sirius fancied him, well, that was the crux of the whole thing, wasn't it? Remus keeps his nose pressed uselessly into a book, the good sense coming to him here and there to turn a page. It's both a hopeless and pointless charade, though. Sirius either doesn't believe that he's occupied or doesn't believe that it matters as he keeps on speaking at Remus' side. He doesn't go unheard so much as unheeded, with Remus tightening his jaw in an unconscious sort of reflex.

Is he really so daft? Can't he read the signs? Remus feels as though he could be wearing one about his neck, something that reads 'keep out' (Beware of Dog, perhaps?) and he would still be pestered by whatever it is he's on about now. He has hopes of ignoring it entirely, but fingers snap before his eyes and his concentration on expert-level-brooding is broken.

"You're not listening." Sirius says, and Remus gives him a look as though it's a waste of breath pointing this out.

"And yet, on you go…" It's too much to hope, Remus knows almost at once, that the sour mood will put Sirius off. He would, of course, see it as an invitation. Some chance to, Remus suspects, have a bit of fun. He blanches at what other ideas of fun Sirius might come up with.

Which isn't, of course, to say he hadn't enjoyed what had passed between them some nights before. He had enjoyed it far too much, in fact. Enough that he would have wanted it to keep going, would have loved another tryst, and another after. If it weren't for those words nesting themselves so neatly in his heart and head. Just a bit of fun. Nothing more. Nothing to speak of maddening nights with eyes squinted to make out a shape in an opposite bed. No mention of a heart leaping to a throat with words or smiles or gleams of an eye. None of that, Remus reminds himself, has been shared. Mutual attraction and an empty room, that was all that Sirius saw between them.

"You're mad at me. If this is about the other night—"

"—Sirius, don't. There's nothing to discuss here." There's everything to discuss here. Remus wants to burst with...with what? He had let it happen. He had encouraged Sirius even after those words were said. It was the most he would ever get. It was close enough, until it wasn't. Until Remus got alone with his head and got to picking up finely shattered pieces of heart. Ridiculous. This entire thing was ridiculous. And he needs to get away from Sirius, before he goes to pieces. He snaps his book shut and sets it aside, making to stand.

"There's something to discuss here, or you wouldn't be hiding from me in an empty castle," Sirius' voice rises in volume, just by a hair. Just enough that Remus can make out some quiver of emotion there that comes along with a hand at his wrist. It keeps him planted to the sofa, keeps him from fleeing again, as he's made a point of over the time between their fun and the present.

"I've been busy. Studying…" Remus has never been much of a liar, and he's called immediately on that fact.

"Over holidays? Bit much, even for you," Sirius shakes his head and then he fixes his eyes on Remus'. It feels like fire surging through Remus' veins, feels like the air around him has gone stifling hot, thick and impossible to properly breathe. It feels like such a delightful form of agony he could live in it, make a home, raise a family in the sweltering heat. "This is about that. Best we talk about it now, while it's easy."

"It'll always be easy for you, though, won't it?" Remus snaps back and he snaps away from that gorgeous gaze, from those eyes he wants to keep staring into. It's too easy to get lost that way, to be stranded in them without hope for escape. It would be all to easy to forgive, when Remus doesn't want to do anything of the like.

"Erm—what?" Sirius contorts his face into such convincing confusion that Remus can't help but believe it. It hurts worse, really. He doesn't understand at all. Doesn't even see what Remus would be upset about. It knocks the wind out of him and he doesn't speak at all for a long moment. He doesn't want to speak at all, not to Sirius, not so long as he can help it. But a hand is still around his wrist and it's as warm as those eyes and Remus loves and hates it all at once.

"Everything. It's all simple enough from your view, right? A bit of fun. Nothing means anything to you, does it, Sirius?" He's snapped again here and this time he's nearly surprised by how much he lets out. Nearly. But it's been simmering at his mind, boiling up in his blood since the night it all happened. And if he's still been living on blissful memories when his body desires them, his mind has been quick enough to cloud with shame and regret at every other turn.

Remus peeks over enough to see the wheels turning in Sirius' head. He has a particular look when he's thinking hard on a matter. Remus would have some days ago (still does, deep down) marked it as incredibly endearing. He waits for everything to slide into place, for understanding to slot itself, and—yes—for eyes to widen and then shrink into a wince.

"That's what you think? What, that I was using you?" He has the good grace to sound horrified by the notion rather than amused, and Remus might appreciate it just a little bit. It was the better of any expected responses, when he weighed the pros and cons of bringing any of this up in the first place. He wasn't laughed out of the common room. He wasn't shrugged off entirely.

"Well. I was the only one here, and you've never shown any indication before…" but Remus lets his voice trail off because he's gone and looked in Sirius' eyes again and it's made his breath catch and his chest feel tight and tingly. There's hurt there, real and proper, nothing that Remus can shrug off as anything else. It feels suddenly like this honesty was some form of betrayal.

"Never shown any indication? Are you mad? I can't keep my eyes off you. It's a wonder I've been able to keep my hands off you as long as I have. Never shown any indication…" Sirius' voice rises again and Remus would quiet him if he thought there were any risk at all of rousing anyone. But perhaps this is the time to let it out. Nobody around to catch them, nobody to overhear or to stop this nonsense. Nobody but Sirius and his wild eyes, all hurt and incredulity. "Moony, I've never known you to be so…" he feels Sirius' grip slip from his wrist and it moves, it moves so that he's cupping Remus' cheek, so he's holding that gaze physically.

Remus both wants very much and wants nothing less than to pull away. There wasn't a calculation—and he made more than his share of them—where this was Sirius' response. His heart is thumping wildly and uncomfortably against his ribs and he feels the sudden desire to crawl out of his skin. He needs to get away, he needs to stop this now, before it goes further. He needs it to go further. He needs Sirius to keep talking.

"To be so what?" He urges, his voice a harsh whisper, one that catches in his throat.

"So...incredibly daft." The space between Remus and Sirius closes in, and Remus feels a little bit like the walls of the common room are doing the same. He thinks about backing off, about making his escape still while there's time. But he feels something soft and warm—lips, just about his jaw, tracing a scarred line, and he stops. Everything stops around him and he feels weightless and perfect and for a moment like there was never any question. This was, after all, something he had wanted so dearly. And so what if Sirius was of a slightly different mind? So what if—but Sirius was saying otherwise. Calling him daft, for thinking on the obvious. For overthinking on a little turn of phrase. His cheeks flush, his mouth opens, but he finds no lips to easily meet his. Sirius pulls back instead.

"I don't understand." He admits, blinking away some emotion that's intent on gathering around the corners of his eyes. Remus stares at Sirius still and the expression there has changed. Something warm has replaced the hurt, something he thinks might be affectionate. He's thinking too much again, he tells himself. He's putting more meaning where there is none. He's—

"Clearly." Sirius laughs, a light chuckle that cuts short when it earns him a scowl. He holds up a hand and then puts it to Remus' cheek again. It's all warmth, the way Sirius' thumb works across his skin, swiping at marks gouged by a far different touch. "You're going to make me say it all, then? That I've been mad for you since… hell, I don't know when, Moony. That I've been waiting all term to make a move? That I've spent the past two days terrified I've made you hate me by it?"

"I don't hate you." They're the only words that come to Remus' mind, because he feels much the victim of some complex curse. He feels as though anything rational has been wiped away and all he knows, all he wants (and he wants it with his whole being) is to kiss Sirius Black and make him stop saying it all.

"No, you've only been acting it. But… you really did think it was nothing?" The hurt returns, though this time it's present in his voice, in a little tremble at his thumb where it swipes Remus' cheek.

"I thought you thought it was nothing. I thought… it was not nothing." He's stumbling through the words, avoiding certain ones with such clumsiness that he may as well be falling right into them. How does he really feel? How foolish would it be for a pair of schoolboys to say they feel quite terribly in love? How foolish would it be for Remus to presume…

"Well, it wasn't nothing. And I'll have you know," Sirius' lips twist up and Remus does something close to bracing himself. Instead of a quip, he finds a kiss, warm and welcome, parting his lips and darting a tongue and feeling quite better than anything he might have expected. It, of course, does not entirely shut Sirius up. "If it was just for fun, I'd have gone for it the other way 'round."

Remus smiles in spite of himself, something of a smirk that quirks his lips just at one side.

"Perhaps a bit of fun is in order, then."

#wolfstar #remus x sirius #fanfic #my writing

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