t h e . m e a n s . t o . m a k e . a m e n d s

The Means to Make Amends
[by victoria p.]

Rating: R

Summary: Sirius makes it up to Remus.

Notes: Thanks as always to Dot, Meg, Jen, Pete&Melissa.

Date: January 8, 2005

Remus stares at the letter in his hand.

Moony,

Parents are away for the weekend. Come visit. Mischief to be had.

Prongs

He wants to laugh at the brevity of it, as if James were sending a Muggle telegram and had to pay by the word. Not that James couldn't afford a whole page of words and more. The Potter fortune is second to none -- they are as old and rich a family as the Blacks, if somewhat less bound by tradition. In comparison, the Lupins are shabby genteel, what little money they had dissipated in the desperate search for a cure for his condition.

He shakes his head. Contemplating finances has given him more than one headache this holiday; his parents try to keep their voices down, but he's no longer a child, and he knows how hard it's been for them. Come summer, he'll be getting a job in town, something Muggle, where they won't keep him from working because of his condition.

He knows Sirius is living at the Potters', that he ran away from the hellhole that is number twelve, Grimmauld Place on Christmas Eve. Peter has been a diligent correspondent, filling him in on what he's missed since Sirius hasn't written, but news isn't the only thing Remus is missing.

Being away from school, away from Sirius, is the best thing that could have happened. Remus has been able to put everything into perspective. He knows Sirius, knows his temper and his penchant for thoughtless, petty cruelty as well as his unbelievable generosity and bottomless curiosity.

Remus believes him when he says he never meant for Remus to be hurt, but the fact is, he was hurt, and Snape and James were almost killed. He knows Sirius is contrite, but he also knows that contrition is an almost meaningless concept where Sirius is concerned. Were the situation to arise again tomorrow, Remus has no doubt Sirius would betray him again. Of course, Remus also has no doubt he will forgive Sirius, because living without Sirius is like living without magic -- interesting for a little while, but unbearable forever.

After an obligatory check with his parents (his father smiles indulgently; his mother frowns but agrees he can go), he sends the owl back confirming his arrival that evening, and begins throwing clothes into a satchel to take with him.

***

Things are slightly awkward at first, but James insists on a trip to the local Muggle pub, and after a pint of Guinness, Remus feels as if he belongs with them, as if he has come home to his friends after weeks in the wilderness. He feels a thrill rush through him when Sirius slings an arm around his shoulders and whispers nonsense in his ear. He can't even hear what Sirius is saying over the music and the crowd noise, but the soft brush of his breath over Remus's skin, the heat of his nearness, are enough to make Remus flush.

It makes him reckless, and he drinks more, or perhaps it's the other way around -- he's never sure, afterward, though he knows the combination of alcohol and lust is dangerous.

They stumble home hours later, James rambling about the girl he'd pulled, and how she was much prettier than Evans, wasn't she?

Sirius mutters something about Evans that James doesn't hear, and Remus thinks is best left unrepeated, and drags Remus into the guest bedroom he's been living in since he arrived at the Potters', cold and angry and just a little lost, or so he tells Remus as they kick their shoes off and curl up on the bed together.

Remus is sure Sirius doesn't mean it to be anything more than friendly -- Sirius has always been tactile, and since he's become an Animagus, he tends to forget sometimes that dog behavior isn't always the same as human, and that nuzzling Remus's neck is not on, not unless he wants more than he bargained for. Remus tries to shift away, to hide his body's reaction, but Sirius follows, face still pressed to the hollow of Remus's neck, and -- oh, god -- kissing him.

"Sirius, what--"

Sirius raises his face, and Remus feels cool air on his damp neck. "Sorry, Moony," he murmurs.

"I know," Remus answers, though he doesn't, really. He doesn't want Sirius to be sorry for kissing him. He wants Sirius to want it. He tries not to breathe as he runs one unsteady hand over Sirius's hair, soft and thick as raw silk beneath the pads of his fingers.

"Shh, don't talk." Sirius plants an elbow in the center of Remus's chest, and swallows his wounded, "Ow!" with a kiss. His lips are warm and wet and he tastes of chips and Guinness, and Remus stills in disbelief.

He pulls back slightly and whispers, "Sirius?"

"Shh," Sirius says again, and repeats the kiss, this time licking at Remus's lips with his tongue. Remus opens to him, more in surprise than anything else, still unsure of what's actually happening. Then Sirius's tongue is in his mouth, sliding against his, sending shockwaves through his body, and Sirius's hands are tangling in his hair, long, careless fingers trailing along his neck, making him shiver.

Sirius moves on top of him, slips one leg between Remus's, and presses down and-- oh! Remus can't speak, but small sounds are coming from his throat as Sirius kisses him, touches him, begins moving against him, hands slipping down Remus's chest and belly before finding the waistband of his jeans.

Remus thrusts up against him, seeking friction, as Sirius breaks the kiss and slides his lips along Remus's cheek and jaw.

"Sirius?" Remus's voice is a hoarse whisper, the name a plea as much as a question.

"Remus," Sirius answers against his ear, hands now undoing the flies on Remus's jeans, and his own. After some quick, clumsy shoving of material out of the way, they are skin to skin, cock sliding against cock, and Remus moans at the sensation, pleasure rushing through him, unable to believe his most secret fantasies are actually coming true.

Sirius is above and around him, tasting, touching, breathing him in, and Remus shakes beneath him, coming undone.

"Sirius," he says again, this time it's a breath, a prayer, a benediction. He wraps his arms around Sirius, trying to anchor himself to something as he loses control under the onslaught of orgasm. His hips buck off the bed as Sirius takes his mouth in a searing kiss, muffling his cries as he comes.

Remus stares up into Sirius's heavy-lidded eyes, gleaming black and silver in the darkness, trying to read him, still clinging tightly to him. Sirius rains light kisses on his face and hair, curls around him, whispering things that make his skin heat, and his body respond again.

"All right?" Sirius asks him finally, and it all clicks into place. Now he understands.

"Yeah," he says, letting go of the last of his anger. "Yeah. All right." And whatever else happens, Remus know it is.

end

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