b e t t e r . t h a t . w a y

Better That Way
[by victoria p.]

Rating: Adult

Summary: Whenever Remus opens his mouth to speak, Sirius kisses him silent.

Notes: first line from Casira

Date: October 7, 2004

Sirius isn't there when morning breaks.

Remus would think last night was a dream, except there are bite marks on his neck, and the linens smell of wet dog.

Sirius was never one for early mornings, but Remus supposes that’s changed. Nothing he knew thirteen years ago is certain now, and he will have to tread more carefully than ever before as he figures out what’s different.

He rolls out of bed and stretches with a sigh. He’s never been much for mornings either, but there’s work to be done, and he’s just slightly worried that Sirius is really gone, a worry assuaged by the scent of coffee wafting through the small house.

He follows it out into the back garden. Sirius is sitting in the dew-drenched grass, wearing nothing but the skin he was born in, long legs stretched out in front, arms locked and hands splayed on the ground behind, face raised to the sky, clear and blue.

“Good morning.”

Sirius doesn’t open his eyes, doesn’t move at all, except for the smile curving his lips.

“You’ll frighten the neighbors,” Remus says, taking a sip from the mug of coffee Sirius left on the railing and blinking at how strong and bitter it is.

“You haven't any neighbors.”

It’s true, the nearest house is half a mile down the road, but Remus doesn’t give up his gentle teasing.

“You’ll scare the birds.”

“Ah, they deserve it. Nasty buggers, always trying to peck your eyes out.”

Remus laughs. “Really?”

“Really. Pigeons are evil creatures, Remus. Don’t you doubt it. Nothing but rats with wings. Dogs, on the other hand,” he arches his back luxuriously and Remus has to catch his breath, “dogs are noble creatures--"

“Dogs are domesticated animals, kept as pets,” Remus interrupts, remembering his lines. “Wolves are noble creatures--"

Sirius finally opens his eyes, and the heat in them calls up answering heat in Remus’s body. “Well, I did make coffee this morning. That’s about as domestic as I get.”

“Wild one, are you?” Remus asks, dropping down on the grass next to him.

“The wildest. That’s me,” Sirius agrees with a faint smile.

This is comfortable and familiar and it feels false to Remus, as if he’s wearing robes that no longer fit, that pull at the shoulders and stop inches short of his ankles, and he doesn’t know how long he can keep it up.

He opens his mouth to answer, hoping some glib thing trips off his tongue, and Sirius is kissing him.

Their tongues tangle, bitter over sweet, and he pushes Sirius down onto his back. Sirius goes willingly, hands already shoving Remus’s pajama pants down over his hips so they can thrust against each other without anything in between.

It’s been years since Remus felt this kind of urgency, this utter, aching need to touch and kiss and fuck, as if they’re sixteen again, in the shack after the moon, instead of two grown men trying to rebuild an old friendship.

He presses down and Sirius thrusts up and they move together, wordless, mouths too busy to speak, and he realizes it’s better this way. Sirius already knew, but then Sirius has always known things on instinct that Remus has had to learn by careful study. Like how to move his hips just so, and how to suck Remus’s neck in just the right spot to make him groan and arch and--

“Fuck, Sirius.” He’s coming, thrusting wildly as almost unendurable pleasure pulses through him.

They curl together on the morning-damp grass, naked and careless, and whenever Remus opens his mouth to speak, Sirius kisses him silent.

It’s better that way.

end

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Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters belong to JK Rowling, Scholastic, etc. This piece of fan-written fiction intends no infringement on any copyrights.