t h e . r a i n . i s . f u l l . o f . g h o s t s . t o n i g h t

The Rain Is Full of Ghosts Tonight
[by victoria p.]

Rating: Adult

Summary: Sirius doesn’t care why they’re fucking, he’s just glad they do.

Notes: I wrote this for Laura Smith, inspired by the poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Date: October 28, 2004

Quite early on in their stay at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, Sirius decides he doesn’t really care why he and Remus have begun fucking again. He’s just glad they do. They don’t speak much, mouths occupied with more interesting things, like the taste of Remus’s skin and sweat and semen on his tongue, and the feel of Remus’s cock hard and heavy on his tongue. When they do speak, it’s in half-sentences, fragments of poetry or prayer or profanity, nothing of interest to anyone who isn’t them.

Sirius stores up these memories for the long days Remus is away, replaying them in his mind the way he used to replay those last few days before James and Lily died, trying to replace the cold darkness of Azkaban with the warm darkness of Remus’s bed.

It becomes more difficult the longer Remus is away, and he is away often, for longer periods of time. Sirius remembers the last time, the lengthy absences, the hostile silences, the empty spot next to him when Remus began sleeping on the couch instead. He remembers how easy it was to believe Peter’s insinuations, his artful lies and sly glances.

When Remus comes home, Sirius kisses him fiercely and strips him of his robes when he’s barely in the door. Remus smiles tiredly, and sighs with pleasure when Sirius lays him down on the tatty sofa and covers his body with his own.

They’re older, thinner, greyer -- they both have wounds that will probably never heal, scars that are too horrible for others to contemplate -- but when Sirius pushes inside Remus, they are young again, and strong, and ready to change the world.

The world has changed, without them, in spite of them, but Sirius can ignore that when they move together, his cock deep inside Remus’s body, his hand wrapped round Remus’s cock, every touch of Remus’s fingers on his skin a shock of lightning, a fiery kiss, until they explode from the heat and the world disappears.

When they're done, Sirius collapses, sated, onto Remus, burying his face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of sweat and lust and Remus to replace the dust and death and darkness that fill his nose when Remus isn’t there.

They lie quietly for a while, listening to the rain on the windows, and Sirius can pretend his prison is just a quiet retreat from the weather.

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.