
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7875976.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J.K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Sirius_Black/Remus_Lupin
  Character:
      Remus_Lupin, Sirius_Black
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe, Series, First_Time, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
  Series:
      Part 3 of Drawing_Down
  Collections:
      Ink_Stained_Fingers
  Stats:
      Published: 2003-11-14 Words: 12194
****** Drawing Down: Cold Moon ******
by Khirsah and Ailei [archived by ISF_Archivist]
Summary
     You never forget your first taste of fire.
Notes
     This story was originally archived at Ink_Stained_Fingers, which was
     created in 2002 as a home for Harry Potter slash fiction. To preserve
     the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an
     Open Doors-approved project in January 2015. We e-mailed all authors
     about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached
     everyone. If you are (or know) this author or artist, please contact
     me using the e-mail address at the Ink_Stained_Fingers_collection
     profile.
     Author's notes: This is set in an AU. Sirius’ family as created by
     JKR is ignored.
Drawing Down: Cold Moon




  The walls were closing in on him. He was sure of it.
  "I can't do this," Remus murmured as he stalked across his room. Five strides
  one way, growing legs-- he was already two inches taller and feeling older
  every day-- eating up the hardwood floor. His arms crossed over his chest,
  then hung at his sides, then swung up to punch at the dangling collage that
  he had made when he was seven and a lot simpler inside. It was as if a fist
  were tightening inside of him, squeezing his heart so it throbbed dully in
  his chest, itching almost, as if it were trying to push out from his ribcage.
  He was going mad. Going absolutely mad, and the walls were closing in on him.
  He was sure of it.
  Growling a little, Remus turned to glare at his calendar. Bright blue with
  silver swirls across it, the energetic numbers bounced across the page,
  proclaiming `thirty-eight days to go'.
  "Thirty-eight days," Remus moaned, whirling away from the calendar and
  stalking towards the window. He pushed back a light green curtain and peered
  out the window, looking up over the expansive lands with their high, magicked
  fences-- not to keep others out, as he had learned when he was still so
  young, but rather to keep him in-- and scanned the skies. Nothing. Not even a
  flutter.
  "Thirty-eight days until Hogwarts..." he let the curtain fall back into place
  with a disgusted sigh. "It may as well be forever."
  He threw himself down onto his bed and shut his eyes. His house had never
  felt like a cage until he was finally allowed outside of it and its grounds.
  Sometimes, his parents took him to places like Diagon Alley and the Ruins,
  but most of the time they remained put in their Welsh home, watching over
  their son with a frightened, timid, overprotective love that Remus tried not
  to find stifling.
  Thirty-eight days until freedom. Thirty-eight days until he saw Sirius and
  his other friends again.
  Thirty-eight days, thirty-seven nights, and two full moons alone, without the
  comfort of a small body pressed against him in the morning.
  "I hate this," he sighed, punching the wall lightly. Waiting made him nervous
  and itchy, made him hateful. He didn't mean to be so cruel to his parents,
  didn't mean to snarl at his father or bare his teeth at his mother. He didn't
  mean to secretly plan ways of escape at night as he stared up at his ceiling,
  cold because all of his blankets ~lonely, lonely, not fair~ were piled next
  to him like a small body.
  They were never enough, though. No matter how much he pretended, he always
  knew that Sirius wasn't there.
  "I'd even be happy to see Peter," Remus muttered, turning his face into his
  pillow, strands of hair falling across his cheeks. He felt bad almost at
  once. He didn't mean to dislike Peter so much ~smells wrong, moves wrong,
  shifty eyes~ and knew that he should try to be nicer to his other roommate.
  It'd be easier if he wasn't around all the time, though, Remus supposed.
  James had taken him up as one of his projects late into the year and now
  Peter was around all of the time, pale eyes watching everything that they
  did.
  Watching Sirius.
  ~I shouldn't hate him so much.~
  The sudden sound of hooting ~OWL!!!~ had Remus forgetting everything,
  however, as he threw himself from his bed and raced out of his room. The door
  slammed behind him moments before he was flying down the stairs, one hand
  gripping the banister to keep himself from toppling down, letting go just as
  he leapt over the last four steps, skidding on the small rug and banging
  against the wall with a grunt. He paused only for a moment to shake himself
  out before shoving away from the wall, rattling paintings as figures lunged
  from their frames and cowered out of sight as he skidded into the kitchen and
  snatched the mail sachet from his mother's hands, throwing it open and
  dumping letters onto the table.
  "Remus."
  "No no no no YES!" He grabbed Sirius' letter, recognizing the loping script
  at once, and tore it open as his mother sighed and gathered the rest of the
  letters. The family owl perched on a chair back, hooting softly to be fed.
  He read as he walked out into the garden, nearly knocking into his father as
  he moved past, murmuring an apology. The letter was long and erratic, filled
  with snatches of thoughts and different colored ink as Sirius added more as
  the day went on.
  ~...and James insists that I can't, but I'll show him before the summer is
  out... saw a falcon and wish you were there; you'd know what kind it was for
  sure... Mum came in a dream, and she said that...~
  Remus read the words over and over again, whispering them out loud and trying
  to match his voice to Sirius' strange, beautiful, changing tones. Birds
  chirped down at him in curiosity as he moved further and further into the
  forest, heading away from the carefully cultivated gardens with their
  imported flowers and into the wild, tangled home of the natural groves.
  He slowed, reading the letter once more, and paused by a great oak tree.
  Remus leaned back against it, sliding down slowly until he sat sprawled
  amongst its roots, sunlight moving across his pale face as branches swayed in
  the breeze.
  "It's not fair," he sighed as he read about the latest Quidditch game Sirius
  and James had gone to. Mother and Father always promised that some day they'd
  take him to a game, but it hadn't happened yet. And if Father had his way, it
  would probably never happen.
  "I wish I could be there..." He lifted the letter and pressed it to his face,
  eyes flickering shut as the scent of Sirius-- clean, vital, with the tang of
  citrus lacing through-- and felt his eyes sting hot and lonely.
  ~So hard to sleep without you there.~
  He drew his legs up and pressed his cheek to his knees, arms wrapping around
  himself, holding the letter tight. ~So hard to do anything.~
  So lonely.
  =============================================================================
  "Woooo!" Sirius whooped, chasing James at blinding speed across the back
  meadow, brooms in hand. Quick as a wink, they jumped on and soared, looping
  recklessly, laughing and daring each other to greater heights of stupidity.
  Quidditch prodigy that James was, he thoroughly kicked Sirius' ass at broom
  tag, but it never stopped them from playing anyway. James never made fun of
  him-- he was just glad to have the off-season practice, Sirius suspected. He
  was so proud of his friend, who had hopes to join the Quidditch team the
  coming year. He was a bloody brilliant Chaser.
  Sirius was in the middle of a particularly death-defying maneuver when he saw
  it. One of the Lupin's owls, Ariadne, if he was any judge, and by now he
  should be, swooped toward the house, a letter tied to her leg. With no
  warning, Sirius abandoned the game and dove after it, followed closely by
  James. ~About time. She usually comes hours earlier.~ It never seemed
  strange, somehow, waiting on Remus' letters like this, like they were the
  only sustenance he got in a day.
  He jumped off his broom when it was still a few feet off the ground and ran
  the rest of the way into the house, where his dad was staring bemusedly at
  Ariadne sitting on his desk, hooting softly.
  "Owl post, dad, just like every day." Sirius laughed, face lighting as he saw
  the neat, precise handwriting on the outside of the scroll. Artemis Black sat
  back, hands folded, watching Sirius untie the letter and scritch the owl's
  neck in thanks. Ariadne hooted happily and flew off through the open window.
  "That must be a quite a close friend, to write you sometimes twice a day."
  Sirius looked up in surprise, shocked his father had even noticed. "Yes, he
  is. My very best friend." Sirius smiled brightly and scampered off, letter
  clutched in his fist.
  "Sirius?" His father called after him.
  "Yes, Dad?"
  "You know you can talk to me? Trust me?" Artemis looked almost afraid to ask,
  warm brown eyes worried, and more focused than Sirius had seen them since his
  mum died.
  "Course I do, Dad. You're tops!" Sirius bounded back from the door and kissed
  his father on the cheek.
  "And you know I'm not the judgmental type?"
  "Because passing judgment on someone simply because he or she is unlike you
  is not logical, rational, or even nice." Sirius beamed down at him. "I
  remember, dad."
  "I rather figured you did. Enjoy your letter." Artemis smiled down at his
  son, mind wandering again as he turned back to the ancient typewriter half
  buried in the books on his desk.
  Sirius tore off to his room, picking James up in his wake.
  "Your dad so has you figured out, Sirius," James teased.
  "So? Like I'm ashamed?" Sirius broke the sealing wax and plopped on his bed,
  unrolling the parchment.
  ~Oh, Remus. You're so sad.~ The letter was cheerful on the surface, but
  Sirius could hear the wistful impatience. And, sometimes, the anger. But
  loneliness permeated every word, seeping from the parchment into his fingers,
  stealing the smile from his face.
  "He's not doing so well, is he?" James asked.
  "No, he's not."
  James put his hand on Sirius' shoulder consolingly. The calendar on the wall
  scrolled along...38 days.
  Too long. No matter how James kept him busy with Quidditch games and broom
  tag and all the other things that had traditionally filled their summers,
  Sirius just...knew too much now. Every full moon he ached, soul bleeding out
  into the perfect, cold light as he tried, through force of will and desire,
  to fill his hurting love with comfort and tenderness from half a country
  away.
  Two more moons, and they'd be together again, curled around each other every
  night, whispering back and forth till exhaustion claimed them. He missed
  Remus' warm, sweet breath on his face. He missed lying awake and watching him
  sleep, wondering if he dared to kiss those damp lips, just inches from his
  own, just barely parted. He wanted to slip the tip of his tongue past those
  lips, see if Remus tasted as good as he smelled.
  Two moons. It was forever.
  =============================================================================
  ~FINALLY!~ Sirius leapt from bed the morning of September 1st, not caring in
  the slightest that it was unseasonably cold and raining. His father would be
  taking him to London this morning, with the Potters. ~Poor Dad...he hates
  Floo Powder more than we do.~ It was a mark of exactly what a brilliant mind
  Artemis Black had that he could even use wizarding transportation. His dad
  had some fascinating theories about magic and physics and reality and
  genetics, and Sirius had been devouring his books all summer. ~Just what the
  professors need...more of my 'innovative' thinking.~
  Sirius was forever questioning the system. Wondering and pondering and asking
  strange questions. Most of the professors enjoyed it--McGonagall practically
  doted on him for his insatiable curiosity. Others, though...they would just
  as soon he shut up and read the books and write the essays. One thousand
  students and the last thing they needed was a freak like Sirius Black.
  Academic concerns were the furthest thing from Sirius' mind on this cold,
  ugly morning. ~I don't have to sleep alone for months~ he crowed, excitedly
  stuffing the last of his belongings into his duffle. Amazing that exactly one
  year ago he was doing this same thing, but now...now everything was
  different. He was Other. He was ~his mind still slithered a bit around the
  details~ Mate. And he was going home, to Remus' arms. To Remus' bed. To
  Remus' sweet kisses and soft hands on his hungry, smooth skin.
  To the wolf. Can't forget that. Not for a second. Going home to the wolf. To
  nights of shivery fear-exaltation-whitehot-scary-joy, dancing with fire in a
  cold metal cage. Putting his young body on the line...drawn by his heart and
  his head and other places, further down, that he was just starting to
  understand. ~And oh...I can be there for my mate. He doesn't hurt himself
  when I am there, cooing and murmuring to him through the night.~
  That was the hardest thing, bar none. Knowing that as the sun set on the
  night of the full moon, his beloved hurt. And he was powerless to stop it. He
  would do anything to stop it, even take the foolish chances he took every
  single moon. ~Fangs sinking into tender flesh, passing contagion and lust and
  need and sweet, aching need to be filled and taken and owned~ Yeah, well.
  Whatever it took.
  Anything.
  He crammed the last book into his duffel, laughing as psychology and physics
  texts took the place of comics and toy soldiers. ~Hell of a difference in
  just one summer.~ The zipper was challenging, of course. He seemed clinically
  incapable of fitting a reasonable amount of clothing and books in any
  confined space with any amount of success. At last he got aggravated enough
  to use a small packing charm to compress the contents.
  His father collected him, a vaguely worried expression on his handsome, kind
  face. "It'll be fine, Dad. Just remember: keep me in your mind, and you won't
  get lost. You know how this works."
  "Of course, I know. That's not what I'm worried about." His father crouched
  down to eye-level. "Sirius, please. If you need anything--to talk, to ask a
  question, to just say hello--owl me. Promise?"
  "Yes, Dad. I promise. Are you all right?"
  "I'm fine. I just..." His father sat heavily on Sirius' bed. "I've watched
  you this summer, and I think...I'm finally waking up. Lessandra is gone. It
  was a stupid, horrible accident, and she's gone. But you're. Still. Here."
  "Oh, Dad..." Sirius' eyes filled with tears and he grabbed his father and
  held on fiercely. ~Poor, sweet Dad. How would I feel if lost Remus? Would I
  do any better?~ His mind recoiled so violently from that image that he
  shivered. ~I would die.~
  "I'm so sorry, son. You've grown up so well...with no thanks to me at all.
  I'm here now, and I just hope it isn't too late." Artemis held his son close,
  and Sirius felt absurdly grateful for it. "I'm so worried about you."
  "Worried?! About me?" Sirius tried to laugh it off.
  "Yes, about you." The boy sat back, watching his father intently. "And about
  Remus."
  "What...what do you know, Dad?" Sirius' heart was beating far too fast. It
  was one thing to tell James he wasn't ashamed. It was quite another to be
  sitting here in the gray morning light discussing it.
  "I know you're in love."
  "And...and is that all right?" ~Please, please, please let it be all right.
  Couldn't bear your disapproval.~
  "That you're gay? Yes, that is absolutely all right. Foolish of me to
  disapprove, since it was all determined by our genes. That's not what worries
  me." Artemis took off his round, wire-rimmed glasses and fiddled nervously
  with the ear-pieces.
  ~Poor Dad, it took him ages to work up to this.~
  "You're twelve, Sirius. While I'd expect a healthy dose of sexual attraction,
  some experimentation perhaps, what completely floors me is the depth of your
  feelings."
  "I love him, Father."
  "Yes. That much is...obvious. Does he feel the same?"
  "Oh, yes."
  Artemis nodded slowly, searching for words. Ideas were his stock in trade, so
  complex and intriguing only the barest handful of people could comprehend
  them. But words-- words were so hard. Such mysteries. "I'm scared that you're
  going to get your heart broken, and very badly."
  "Dad." Sirius half-smiled. "Remus and I are...We fell in love on the train
  last year. First sight. You can ask James-- he found it intensely amusing.
  Remus has problems. Very big ones that...I may be able to talk to you about.
  Someday soon. But he's so good, and so sweet. And we need each other, more
  than I can describe."
  "Sounds familiar." Artemis smiled and brushed the long hair off Sirius' face.
  Sirius looked up, lips curving in an answering smile. "Don't worry,
  Dad...there's nothing 'going on' yet."
  "I'm not worried. You have the sense to look things up and figure them out
  when the time comes. Just remember that wanting him is normal. It's natural.
  And you'll come to all the right decisions and behave honorably. We raised a
  fine child, your mother and I."
  "Thank you, Dad. You don't know how much it means to hear that." Sirius'
  voice trembled.
  Artemis stood, taking one of the handles of Sirius' trunk. "We'd better go
  meet the Potters. Just promise me-- if the silly Muggle gets lost, you'll
  come find me?"
  "Of course I will, Dad."
  "My hero."
  =============================================================================
  The sun was out in London, and the weather was fine. Sirius bounced and
  bounded and James pointed and laughed, broom in its traveling bag over his
  shoulder. They wound through the throng of Muggles, Artemis and the Potters
  bringing up the rear, speaking animatedly of the second-year curriculum at
  Hogwarts.
  Sirius could feel his dad's eyes, though, on his back as they neared platform
  9 and . He took his dad's hand, told him to close his eyes, and yanked him
  through the magical barrier.
  "Ouch." Artemis said conversationally, rubbing his temples.
  Sirius didn't hear him. Didn't even really see him. His eyes were focused on
  the slight figure standing so properly with the impeccably dressed man and
  woman. The second he crossed the barrier, huge brown eyes riveted to him, and
  he felt their pull like the moon on the ocean.
  "REMUS!" He couldn't help the exuberant shout as he tore through the throng.
  A huge smile lit the other boy's face as he escaped his parents' grip and
  flew toward him. They stopped short a couple of paces from each other, having
  barreled over a gaggle of first years in their headlong rush. Breathing
  heavily, they managed to keep from hugging, but just barely.
  "I've missed you." The words were uttered simultaneously, intensity
  coalescing between them, palpable and thick and sweet.
  Sirius recklessly reached out a hand to touch Remus' cheek, pulling away
  guiltily and looking at the Lupins, who were staring at him with what
  approached shock. ~Someone's touching their precious little Remy~ he thought
  spitefully, angry that they were looking at Remus like he was about to sprout
  fangs and fur and tear his little friend apart.
  Artemis cleared his throat, having caught up to his errant son. Sirius turned
  and looped one arm through Remus'. "Dad, this is Remus Lupin. Remus, this is
  my dad."
  "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Black." Remus shook Artemis' hand firmly, his
  nervousness only betrayed in his rapidly shifting brown eyes.
  "And I to meet you, Remus. I've heard so much about you this summer. In fact,
  I rather feared you were going to have to retire those poor owls before their
  time."
  Remus blushed brightly, but Sirius just laughed and whispered, "He knows.
  It's all right."
  The other boy's brows rose, but he managed to keep all but one comment to
  himself. "Mr. Black, please. Don't tell my parents." It was a hushed,
  humiliated plea.
  "Remus, there are some things you should realize about me. I don't think
  there's a thing wrong with you and my son being together. But I know not
  everyone is so open-minded, and I'd never ever tell them. That's for you to
  do, when you're ready." Artemis' voice was low and sincere, his eyes focused
  on the approaching Lupins.
  "See? Dad's amazing." Sirius stage-whispered. Remus beamed as Artemis
  introduced himself and Sirius, oh-so-properly and shook hands with Remus'
  parents. Before they knew it, their trunks were gone and they were sitting
  across from Peter and James in their compartment. The two boys practically
  sat on top of each other, holding hands and whispering.
  "You had a bad summer, didn't you?" Sirius asked, voice low with concern.
  "It was...not so...okay. It was bad." Remus laid his head on Sirius'
  shoulder. "I just missed you so much it ached."
  "I know...me, too. I couldn't sleep." Sirius confided shyly. "My arms just
  felt empty, and I didn't have your hair in my mouth at all hours of the
  night."
  Remus beamed at him, fingertips playing lightly over the skin of Sirius'
  palm. The dark haired boy looked at him mischievously. "You know...I don't
  fancy getting laughed at because I'm tangled in my robes again. Will you help
  me, Remus?"
  "Of course, silly boy. I need to change, too." To Remus' surprise, Sirius
  bounded to his feet, grabbed his back pack and pulled the smaller boy out of
  the compartment, toward the back of the train. He looked in the windows till
  he found one empty compartment and pulled Remus in, closing the door and
  pulling the shade. "My, Sirius Black, I might almost think you have designs
  on me." Remus laughed, and it was the purest sound the other boy had heard in
  months.
  "And you would be right, of course." Sirius leaned down and kissed him, then,
  lips soft and sweet but insistent for all their gentleness. Too many months
  of empty arms and imagined kisses made him bold and needy. Remus sighed, eyes
  still open, still locked with his own, and the intimacy of that was just...
  Shocking and perfect.
  His tongue darted out to tease at Remus' silken lips, wanting, needing to
  taste him. To see if he was still sweet and hot. Remus groaned and parted his
  lips, letting Sirius take the lead, granting his tongue entrance. //Oh,
  yes...oh, thank you, so good, so right, in here.// He pressed his tongue into
  Remus' searing heat, stroking, thrusting against the other boy's tongue in a
  deep rhythm. The small, strong body twisted in his arms, and he broke off,
  breathing erratically.
  Grinning down at Remus he said, "Now that is a proper hello."
  =============================================================================
  Remus stared up at the canopy, watching the red cloth ripple with the light
  breeze coming through the open windows. Fall hadn't yet truly begun, and it
  was still hot enough to lie on top of the blankets, tattered old boxers
  sticking to his skin.
  Peter hummed to himself as he slowly got ready for bed, folding his robes and
  plodding around the room. ~Hurry~ Remus urged, hands clenching into fists.
  ~Hurry hurry hurry!~ He turned his head, but all he could see was the red of
  his bed curtains, suddenly darkened as Peter blew out the last light.
  There was a low noise as Peter climbed into his bed, followed by a sleepy
  "g'night" from James. Remus fairly vibrated with energy, eyes wide in the
  darkness as he waited for the slight creaks and shifting of cloth.
  He was so wrapped up in the waiting that he jerked in surprise when a warm
  hand touched his shoulder.
  "Scoot over," Sirius hissed, and Remus rolled to the side, face splitting
  into a grin as Sirius slid into bed next to him. The black-haired beautiful
  perfect boy slid close, arms going tight around his middle as Remus pressed
  his hands against the sweat-slick lower back and pressed him close.
  "Sirius," he breathed, darting in to kiss a smooth cheek. Sirius smelled warm
  and sweet, like the ocean-blue of his eyes, and Remus sighed happily and
  kissed him again, feeling the gooseflesh as shivers raced across his body. He
  wanted to tangle his hands into that hair and lift back that chin, exposing
  the long line of his young, sweet neck to lick and kiss and bite.
  "No," he hissed, shoving back the images. "I won't."
  "Won't what?" Sirius nuzzled against him, running his noise against Remus'
  chin, kissing gently. "What's wrong?"
  "Nothing. It's not important." And, suddenly, it wasn't important, or at
  least not as important as ~God I love you~ Sirius so close finally after such
  a long summer, hair drifting into his mouth. "You need a hair cut," Remus
  laughed quietly, spitting out a mouthful of black hair.
  "Like yours?" Pale fingers tangled into his unevenly shorn locks, tugging.
  Remus had fought his mother as she clipped it, knowing that Sirius liked his
  hair longer so he could play with the brown-gold strands, and now it was a
  finely-layered bob around his face, shorter strands creeping into his eyes.
  "Hopefully a little neater." He turned his head and gently kissed Sirius'
  inner wrist, tongue darting out for just a second to touch the warm skin.
  "Oh," Sirius breathed, eyes widening. He shifted closer, tongue dampening his
  lips, but Remus turned his head away, pretending that he didn't know what
  Sirius wanted.
  ~You can't do this,~ he reminded himself, eyes squeezing shut as Sirius
  sighed and looped an arm around his middle, settling down for sleep. The
  strange, excited feeling in his belly uncurled and traveled through his body,
  centering between his legs. He shifted, feeling the uncomfortable hardness,
  and drew in a deep breath.
  ~You're not supposed to feel this way. You're not supposed to-- to want the
  things you do.~
  A low growl, glowing copper eyes, skin so tender to bite, to mar, to break,
  to claim.
  ~Want to make him mine, always, Want to own him and touch him and taste him
  and I can't, I shouldn't, but God I want to taste his tongue and swallow his
  moans and see if he's as salty on my tongue as the white fluid on my fingers
  from the strange, alien piece of flesh.~ He squeezed his eyes shut tight,
  drawing in a deep breath. ~Someone my age shouldn't want this. Sirius is
  innocent... he doesn't know. He's normal. I can't mess that up for him.~
  But oh, he wanted to. He wanted to stroke his fingers down the soft,
  shuddering belly and teach Sirius and make him hard. He wanted to so bad and
  nonono, it was wrong.
  "Mine," he whispered, eyes stinging hot. ~Why do I have to want this so bad?
  Why'd the Dark Man have to come and ruin my life like this? I hate him.~
  "Mmm," Sirius sighed, shifting in his arms, and Remus wrapped tight around
  him, burying his face into the sweet black hair, tears leaking down his face.
  So sweet...
  "Yours," Sirius whispered. "All yours."
  =============================================================================
  Remus put down the book he had been studying for the last hour and stretched
  his neck muscles, sighing. James looked up with a sympathetic wince, his own
  thick book perched on his lap and scrolls laying across the library table in
  neat piles.
  "I don't know if I'll ever finish," Remus said, grabbing his quill and
  leaning back in his chair. Professor Karon had given them piles of homework,
  keeping to her strongly-held belief that idle hands lent themselves to
  mischief.
  ~We should do something to her,~ Remus thought, twirling the quill between
  his fingers. The feathers flicked through the air and brushed against his
  cheek as he turned his head to look at Sirius, who was talking to the
  librarian with a huge, winning smile, but didn't seem to be getting anywhere.
  ~Just to show her she has it the other way round.~
  "I can't do any more."
  Remus looked up at the low mutter, brows raising as Peter closed his book
  with a decisive bang.
  "I'm-- sorry!" he hissed back at the muttered `shhhh' from the table across
  from them "going to take a break. My brain has turned to mush." He stood,
  hands smoothing his robe over his plump hips, then glanced over towards
  Sirius, who was starting to look like he was about to give in. "Maybe I'll go
  see if Sirius wants to raid the kitchen..."
  Remus' eyes narrowed as Peter moved towards Sirius and lightly touched his
  arm. They spoke for a moment, and Sirius glanced towards Remus, turning as if
  to move his way, but Peter shook his head and motioned for him to follow.
  Moving side by side, almost touching, they went out the door, shutting it
  softly behind them.
  "Remus. Remus."
  Remus turned with a start, golden-brown eyes wide as he looked at James. The
  other boy smiled and leaned forwards, messy dark hair falling over his brow
  as he met Remus' eyes. "There's no reason to be jealous, you know."
  ~Oh, now, he sees everything.~ "I don't know what you mean." He tried to make
  his voice sound stiff and formal, affronted, but he just came out sounding
  snotty. He sighed, shoulders slumping as he slowly began plucking long
  strands of feathers from his quill. "I know," he said, shaking his head. "I
  know. But I can't help it sometimes."
  "Why?"
  "Because... because I want him too much sometimes. All the time. And it's
  scary. It-- it frightens me, because I can't control it inside and sometimes
  it's all I can feel, and I'm not supposed to want the things I do!"
  James reached over the table and grasped one of Remus' small hands, curling
  their fingers together tightly. "Why not? Why aren't you supposed to love
  him? Because you're both kids?"
  ~The strange heat seeping through him, beginning in his belly and making it
  hard, making him ache, and it wasn't supposed to be like this with someone
  you loved, right?~ "N-no. Not because I love him. Because... James, sometimes
  I... I want to, you know. Um."
  "Yes?"
  Remus colored and looked away. "I can't," he whispered, eyes focusing on the
  dust motes swimming in the air. How could he expect James to understand?
  James was smart and happy and athletic and normal, sleep undisturbed by
  demons that touched and kissed and made him hurt inside.
  James and Sirius couldn't understand, and though a small part of him wished
  that they could, wished that they would try, most of him was so very glad
  that they didn't have to.
  He turned back to him friend, smiling politely as he gently pulled his hand
  away. "It's nothing," he lied, knowing that James didn't believe him. "I'm
  sorry. It's nothing."
  "Remus," James began, but the other boy cut him off with a snarl.
  "Drop it," Remus hissed, eyes going dark and glittering before he shook his
  head and picked up his quill and parchment again. "Let's just... just go back
  to work," he said, eyes dropping down so he didn't have to meet those
  alarmingly perceptive blue eyes. So that he didn't have to face the
  questions.
  "All right," James said, voice clear and even, and Remus could tell that he
  didn't want to let the subject go. Slowly, James picked up his own parchment
  again, and they were silent.
  Remus nodded lightly to himself, trying to focus his attention back onto the
  problems before him, but all he could think about was Peter and Sirius, alone
  somewhere down below them, Peter looking up at his Sirius, his friend, and
  touching him. Smiling at him. Wanting him.
  ~He's mine. Mine~
  And somewhere deep inside of Remus, the Dark Man began to growl.
  =============================================================================
  The sun shone down hot and sweet against his skin, even as a light wind blew
  in from the open window, causing him to shiver.
  The longer strands of his hair brushed his cheeks as Remus flipped the pages
  of his photo album, watching as his parents waved at him from the
  photographs. Behind them stood the large, lonely house with its tall, spelled
  fences.
  He had had to beg to be allowed to come to Hogwarts that first year,
  convincing his worried, overprotective parents that he would be fine there
  and wouldn't hurt anyone. They'd had to fight to get him there, enlisting the
  help of Dumbledore in order to enroll him.
  "I would've died," he murmured as he flipped the page. "If I'd had to stay
  there forever. Like Uncle Matthew." He licked his lips, then forced himself
  to turn the page again, this time to a picture of his mother's family. There
  stood Grandmama and his mother and the aunts... and Matthew.
  The curved, sensuous lips were smiling, the eyes blue and normal and happy as
  he hugged a sister to him.
  One year before he went off into the world as an Auror. One year and three
  months before he was bitten by a werewolf. One year three months and fifteen
  days before he attacked his young nephew, one hand jerking down the small,
  eight-year-old cock, teaching him things the young body should not have been
  ready for as he bit into the tender skin of his shoulder, saliva creeping
  into the bloodstream and polluting it with anger and knowledge.
  One year three months and fifteen days before Uncle Matthew became the Dark
  Man to Remus, and he looked so normal.
  "I hate you," he whispered, looking down at the man who had changed
  everything for him. The louder. "I Hate You."
  He could feel the anger building up inside of him, the tight, hot fear that
  he was becoming Matthew, that those early, burning, hated caresses had
  branded his cock and mind and heart and now he was the Dark Man, and
  nonononoNO he wasn't going to do that to anyone, he wasn't going to ~God~
  touch Sirius that way ever because it was wrong and disgusting and "I HATE
  YOU!"
  He leapt to his feet and flung the album at the wall, screaming in rage as it
  slammed to the floor. The full moon was close and the growling was inside,
  rising like a tidal wave as the Dark Man choked within his breast, taking
  over, consuming, and he didn't want this, he didn't want it, all he wanted
  was to be normal, to be normal like everybody else, and he couldn't, not with
  the fire inside...
  "Hate you," he whispered, sliding to the floor and curling up around himself.
  He could hear feet pounding up the stairs towards the tower room, but he
  didn't care who saw him anymore.
  The sun slowly began to make its way down the sky, creeping towards night and
  the full moon as Remus Lupin curled around himself, feeling sick from the
  hatred and hurt inside, and wept.
  =============================================================================
  "Professor Dumbledore, it's obvious we have to do this. You agreed that Remus
  needed to be away from the school during his changes... The Whomping Willow
  is ready, and already the people of Hogsmeade are terrified to go into the
  Shack. You have to tell him."
  "I know, Pomfrey. I know. It just seems so sad to lock him in a cage so far
  away..."
  "It's for the best. I will escort him down there and be there first thing in
  the morning to set him free. This way, there's no risk to the students should
  he get out..."
  "Yes. Yes... please send him in."
  =============================================================================
  "You wanted to see me, Headmaster?"
  Dumbledore turned from the window, a smile creasing across his face. "Yes,
  yes, Remus, come in. You can shut the door beh-- ah, thank you." He beckoned
  Remus to come forward, turning again to look out the window and onto the
  grounds. "I'd like you to see something, Remus."
  Remus stepped forward tentatively, moving around the heavy desk to stand
  beside the aging headmaster. Dumbledore stepped aside to make room for him,
  one hand pressing against his back to move him closer towards the window.
  "Look out there, Remus," he said. "Towards the forest."
  The young boy curled his hands over the window sill and peered out through
  the thick glass. He could see the grounds stretching far, with the lake
  shining in the sunlight and the forbidden forest a dark blot on the horizon.
  "What am I looking for, Sir?" he asked, and then he saw it.
  A huge tree that hadn't been there before, its many arms swaying in the
  breeze.
  "That's a Whomping willow, Remus." Dumbledore paused, then turned Remus
 towards him. "Remus, it's been decided that it would be best if you went away
  from the school during your monthly transformations."
  Remus stared up at him, eyes wide. "Go away, sir? But where?"
  "We've prepared a safe place for you, and the willow protects the entrance.
  Madame Pomfrey will take you there and bring you back every morning after. We
  think that..."
  Professor Dumbledore continued, but Remus had stopped listening. He was being
  sent away for the changes; away from the comforting presence of Sirius. Away
  from familiar surroundings. He was going to be alone.
  ~Well,~ he thought, chewing on his lower lip. ~Well good. A-at least I won't
  be able to hurt anyone then.~
  And even though he knew he was lying to himself, Remus nodded and smiled.
  ~I'm glad,~ he thought, hands shaking beside him. ~So glad.~
  =============================================================================
  "Where do you think you're taking him?!" Sirius cried, trying to hold on to
  Remus, even as the smaller boy pulled away.
  "I think I'm taking him someplace where he can't hurt anyone tonight." Madame
  Pomfrey, usually so sympathetic, was cold and businesslike.
  "But I help him. Remus, tell her, please! I keep him from hurting himself."
  Desperate, Sirius scrubbed at the tears filling his eyes. ~Have to make them
  see. Have to make them see.~
  "It's just a matter of time, young Mr. Black, until Remus hurts you. Or until
  he escapes our previous security arrangements and hurts another student."
  "NO! Remus isn't like that when I'm around." Sirius tried to make Remus meet
  his eyes. "Please tell her, Remus."
  "Sirius, she's right. They're all right. I would rather slice myself to
  ribbons every moon than take the chance of hurting you even once." Remus
  refused to look at Sirius, aware that his resolve would melt under that blue,
  pleading gaze.
  "But I stay outside! I stay outside and talk to you until you fall asleep.
  When I talk to you, you don't hurt yourself. I'm fine!" Sirius was sobbing
  now, and that made him even angrier. ~How dare you make these decisions for
  me, like I'm a child to be protected from the big bad wolf!~
  "Sirius, no you don't. You come in. You come in and I do things to you."
  Remus broke away from Madame Pomfrey and murmured to Sirius. "It's so much
  better this way."
  "What kind of lies have they been feeding you, Remus?"
  "They're doing what they believe is best. And...and I agree." The smaller boy
  turned away and let Madame Pomfrey take his hand again. "Please...just accept
  it. Accept something for once in your life and let it lie."
  The matron led Remus from the room, leaving Sirius standing in the center,
  James and Peter watching in dismay. Sirius wrapped his arms around himself
  disconsolately, thin shoulders wracking with sobs. James moved to take him in
  his arms, and Sirius allowed it for a moment, before that sense of wrongness
  he felt when anyone but Remus touched him made it uncomfortable.
  "I'm going after him. It's only been a couple of minutes, I can track them
  down." Sirius yanked off his school robes, finding them suddenly stifling,
  and pulled on his rattiest pair of sneakers to go with the frayed jeans and
  thin t-shirt.
  "No, Sirius, you can't. They said that you were not to spend the full moons
  with him anymore, and you have to respect that." Peter patted his shoulder,
  over-solicitous and cloying. "He will hurt you, you know."
  Sirius stood abruptly, striding to the door impatiently. "Why does everyone
  keep harping on that fact? Do you honestly think I'm so fucking stupid that I
  don't get it? Of course he is going to hurt me some day. He may fucking well
  kill me."
  "Jesus, Sirius, don't say that." James raked a hand through his messy hair,
  trying to hide his fear for his oldest friend.
  "It's true, James. And what's also true is that I. Don't. Care. I am his, and
  I will not be separated from him when he needs me." Sirius' changeable voice
  was hard-edged and angry as he yanked open the door and opened his mind,
  'listening' for Remus, following his instinct out of doors.
  ~They'd take him off the grounds...it's the only thing that makes sense. They
  wouldn't want Madame Pomfrey going into the Forbidden Forest alone, it's far
  too dangerous. Maybe Hogsmeade.~
  He wandered toward the grounds, toward a little-traversed corner near the
  Forbidden Forest. Sirius remembered being warned to stay away in his Defense
  Against Dark Arts class--something about a dangerous plant being discovered
  there. ~Yes, there they are...~ He just caught the tail end of a passage
  closing in the trunk of a huge willow tree. ~Hmm...that's a Whomping Willow.
  There was one guarding a princess in a story mum used to read me.~ He
  hunkered down and waited for Pomfrey to leave, angry that they took Remus so
  early in the day. The other boy would be fine for at least another three
  hours.
  Madame Pomfrey emerged from the passage a few minutes later, but she was too
  far away for Sirius to see if she did anything to activate or close the
  passage or not. When she was a fair distance away, Sirius went down to the
  Willow, standing in front of it defiantly, looking for a way through the
  whipping-sharp branches. Suddenly one snaked out and cut his chest on a
  diagonal, shallow but painful. Hissing angrily, Sirius picked himself up and
  tried again to find a path through. The next cut was to his cheek and he
  swiped at it irritably. ~Come on, Black, you can figure this out. You have to
  figure this out.~ But there was just no pattern to the slashes, nothing he
  could anticipate. Two more cuts later, he was so maddened he was crying
  again, screaming at the Willow in impotent rage.
  He could feel Remus on the other side, that tidal pull of moon on ocean that
  filled him when they were separated. His beloved was caged already, alone,
  staring out through the bars. ~NO.~ By now it hurt to climb to his feet, but
  he did, returning for more, determination etched on every line of his child's
  face, fists clenched at his sides.
  "Sirius." The calm, authoritative voice stopped him in his tracks. Battered
  and bruised and bloodied, the boy turned to face Albus Dumbledore. "It would
  seem we need to talk, my boy."
  "What I need, Headmaster, is Remus." Sirius was too tired, too hurt, to be
  properly respectful.
  "Come here, Sirius." Dumbledore sat down nimbly in the grass, a safe distance
  from the Whomping Willow, and patted a square of ground beside him. Sirius
  went, walking stiffly, pain in every line of his drawn body.
  "Why? Why did they take him away from me?" Sirius knew he sounded pathetic,
  but didn't particularly care.
  "You know why, my boy," the Headmaster replied kindly. "There is every
  indication that he will hurt you, or someone else, someday if we do not take
  precautions."
  "You know I sneak in every moon." Flat statement, punctuated by Dumbledore's
  nod.
  "Yes, of course I know, Sirius. I know that Poppy has found you on the floor
  curled around his cage, sound asleep. I know you have no fear of him."
  "Of course not." Sirius swiped off-handedly at the tickling trickle of blood
  down his face. ~Remus would like to lick this off me.~ The thought came from
  nowhere, but it rose heat deep and visceral in his belly. He looked up at
  Dumbledore through his tear-laced eyelashes. "Why should I fear my mate?"
  Dumbledore took a deep breath. "So that's it, is it? I'd wondered, but I
  thought it quite impossible."
  "Because we're too young?" Sirius was derisive.
  "Yes, because you are both so young. Sirius, do you even know what mating a
  werewolf means?" Dumbledore was quietly forthright, drawing his bony knees up
  to his chest.
  "I do, actually. I don't just know, I feel it. I belong to him. Only to him.
  He is everything to me. I can't think, I can't sleep, I can't stand it when
  he's not close enough to touch." The words were flying out. "Everything
  inside me screams at me to give him what he needs."
  "Who are you, Sirius Black?"
  "I'm weird, and eccentric. Smart but undisciplined. I like comic books. I
  collect toy soldiers. I play broom tag. I come up with insane theories about
  anything and everything and diagram them out." Sirius found a tired smile for
  Dumbledore. "But most importantly, deepest down, I'm for him. I am his mate."
  "The mating bond, fully consummated, is a truly formidable force of nature.
  There are many theories, regarding werewolves and their mates, but most do
  not apply in this situation. They deal with adults and adult attachments. You
  two are a new case entirely. I simply cannot say what benefit can be attached
  to fostering this sort of attachment this early in life." Dumbledore shook
  his head pensively.
  "Headmaster?" Sirius was starting to see where the old wizard was going with
  his argument.
  "It is my personal belief that a strong, true mating bond created early in
  his life will keep Remus sane. That you, my boy, can keep him human by
  showing him how to accept the wolf."
  Sirius just sat, blood soaking his clothes, nodding his head slowly. "I want
  that so much. I want to take his pain away."
  "I know, Sirius. Your empathy bleeds as much as those cuts." Dumbledore
  stood, holding a hand out to Sirius. The boy took it gratefully and climbed
  wearily, achingly, to his feet. "You should have been Hufflepuff." The
  Headmaster's mischievous blue eyes twinkled behind the glasses.
  "Mum always threatened me with it." Sirius smiled wearily. "Does this mean
  what I think it means?" He dared to look up at the old man hopefully.
  "Yes, Sirius. I will give you permission to stay with him. After we get you
  healed, you can go through the Whomping Willow, down the passage, and into
  the Shrieking Shack."
  "The Shack?" Comprehension dawned. "That's perfect!"
  "Yes, we were rather impressed with our cleverness, to tell you the truth."
  Albus smiled warmly, leading him back through the grounds to the infirmary.
  Sirius half-expected Madame Pomfrey to still be angry, but of course she'd
  gotten over it. She took one look at his cuts and gashes and clucked over
  him. It was always so funny to see her get so motherly, when she was so young
  herself. She healed him quickly, competently, taking special care with the
  cut on his face. When she was finished, he was free to go, unmarked, fresh
  pink skin the only mark of the healing.
  "Now, my boy, the secret to dealing with the Whomping Willow is to never let
  it smell your fear. Walk right up to her, give her a good tickle, and say the
  password." With those final words of advice, Sirius was on his own,
  practically running across the grounds toward the Forest. The Whomping Willow
  presented no further threats, when confronted with a combination of a sound
  tickling and the proper keyword. A twisty passage led underground, deep and
  dark, and Sirius held his breath as he traveled further and further away from
  the school, and closer and closer to his Remus.
  =============================================================================
  Remus was going insane. He could hear the sounds of the Shrieking Shack,
  terrible noises that made him hunch his shoulders and curl his arms around
  himself as if that could protect him from the darkness inside and out. He had
  asked to be brought early, afraid of the strange itching need inside that was
  slowly expanding and drowning out reason.
  A full moon away from Sirius. A night of claws and pain without the blue-eyed
  stare and the soft, gentle voice.
  Without his mate.
  "I will control this," he muttered to himself as he slowly began to rock. The
  cage was too small to stand, and soon it would be too small for him to sit up
  properly. He supposed they would find him a replacement cage after a while,
  unless they could find another solution. Maybe they would allow him to take a
  monthly potion...?
  "No," he said, and his voice came out more a snarl. He was starting to get
  close. "No, too young." The suppressing potions were taxing even for adult
  systems. It was something his parents had tried long ago: the component parts
  weren't too hard to find and blend, but it had left him gagging and choking
  up blood and sick for a week, so not yet. Maybe when he was older.
  He shivered in the cold, then winced at the sound of ripping cloth. Slowly,
  he forced his fingers to open from crooked claws, forced them away from
  himself with focused determination. Blood stained his nails pink and red,
  running in small rivulets down to his knuckles as Remus watched in
  fascination. A drop of blood wound its way down the sensitive flesh between
  finger and thumb, tracing over the skin, and Remus lifted his hand to his
  mouth and licked away the moisture, tasting the fire and glory and life and
  God...
  He greedily sucked his fingers into his mouth, shivering as the growling rose
  like a banked fire within him, slowly shuddering from coals to full,
  consuming life. He let his eyes slide shut, feeling the faint stinging press
  past his lids that signified the slow shift in color. Soon they would be
  copper-flat and ugly, the eyes of a madman, the eyes of a monster.
  The eyes of a wolf.
  "Control" he growled, pulling his hand away with a hiss. His fingers trembled
  as he reached up to unfasten his robes, then his clothing beneath, nothing
  with distracted interest the tear in the cloth. His shoulder stung where he
  had torn the skin, but it wouldn't be the last wound tonight.
  "I wish you were here, Sirius," he murmured as he tossed the clothing outside
  of his cage. He had learned early on that if he left it in there with him, he
  would shred it to pieces, as if the wolf smelled the human on it, clinging to
  the folds of sleeve and hem. "I wish you were here." He looked out towards
  the window, but the sun was still well above the horizon. He had at least
  another half-hour to go before he began to change.
  "I'm not sure what to do, Sirius. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do. I...
  I want to hold you close and stroke back your hair and... and, you know, kiss
  you. For real. I want to kiss you like I sometimes do in my dreams...
  "It's hard, you know, Sirius. It's hard when you know so many things, when
  you can taste things in your mouth that you've never, that I've never tasted.
  I know what come is like on the tongue, and I've never once... nothing by my
  own sometimes. I know what's it's like to push someone down and kiss and bite
  and why do I have to see these things, Sirius? Why do they have to haunt me
  every night?"
  He curled up, arms going around his legs as he rested his chin on his knees,
  eyes closed against the onslaught. He could remember the moment, the exact
  moment when everything had come flashing to him in a wave of light. He
  remembered lying in bed, toy soldiers on the floor, the almost-full moon
  casting light across his bed. He remembered Uncle Mathe... he remembered the
  Dark Man coming in and oh so quietly shutting the door behind him, of him
  pressing a finger to his lips for silence, of him coming closer, that smile
  playing across his lips as he sat down on the bed next to him.
  The touching was uncomfortable, but the Dark Man said oh, shh love, you'll
  like it, I promise, and Remus had nodded and let him touch, small face
  pressed against the soft blue pillow as callused hands traced down his chest,
  playing over his tiny little-boy nipples and dipping down towards that place
  between his legs that Mum said made him a little boy instead of a little
  girl.
  He had cried when the Dark Man kissed his neck, sucking on the tender skin.
  He had shuddered when he had squeezed the limp bit of flesh in his big, adult
  hand. And he had screamed when the Dark Man bit hard into his skin near the
  shoulder, pressing past flesh. Heat and light and images flashed before him
  as the blood began to slowly trickle down his chest, like a teasing caress,
  and Remus had squirmed desperately in the embrace, confused and terrified by
  the quick succession of knowing that sped up his heart and made his body so,
  so hard...
  "Stop it," Remus moaned, turning his face away. He could feel the heat of
  knowing curl within his stomach, demanding the soft touch of flesh and the
  fine silk of black hair. He couldn't do this to Sirius. He couldn't force
  this on him. "Stopitstopitstopit."
  "Remus?"
  Remus jerked his head up, eyes going wide at the beautiful, familiar voice.
  Sirius stood there at the doorway, watching him with a worried, hopeful,
  happy, anxious expression, brows drawn down together into a frown. He stepped
  inside of the room and shut the door behind him, moving quickly across the
  creaking floorboards to crouch next to Remus' cage. "Remus, are you all
  right?"
  "Sirius." He felt so many emotions tumbling through his chest that he hurt
  inside, each fighting for dominance as Sirius quickly pulled off his robe and
  slid into the cage with him, drawing him close.
  "Are you all right? I couldn't let them make you go through this alone." His
  breath moved over his shoulder, sending shiver-sparks racing through Remus,
  uncoiling lazy heat in the pit of his stomach as Sirius kissed his shoulder.
  "I told Dumbledore, and he said he'd let me be with you." Soft hands moved up
  the curve of his spine, trying to soothe but merely fanning the flames higher
  as Remus ~Oh yes, oh mine~ pressed closer, turning his face against him.
  And froze.
  He lifted his face up, eyes wide and wild as he sniffed Sirius' neck, then
  shoulder, following the sharp, tantalizing scent down across his arms and
  chest.
  "Remus, what are..." Sirius began, but his words cut off into a gasp as Remus
  slid his hands up his chest and lightly pushed him onto his back. His eyes
  were wide with surprise as Remus loomed over him, body shaking with an
  attempt at control.
  "You've been bleeding." The voice wasn't his own, rough with want and desire
  and ~oh I have to taste, I have to know~ pain as he quickly undid Sirius'
  shirt.
  "Well, yes, I had a... Remus!" Sirius' mouth fell open in shock as his sweet
  Remus snarled in frustration and ripped his shirt open, sending buttons
  skittering across the floor.
  "You should go," Remus moaned, but he couldn't stop himself from leaning down
  to kiss a soft shoulder. Sirius' skin was so warm beneath his lips and hands
  and tongue as he ran his fingers up the quivering belly and licked at a trail
  of blood, skin beneath already healed and sensitive. "Oh. Oh, Sirius, Sirius,
  you should go." He tried to make himself let go of Sirius, but oh, he felt
  too good, tasted too good beneath the flat of his tongue as he lapped at the
  delicate wing of a collarbone, then down to a puckered, pink nipple.
  "Oh," Sirius breathed, hands curling into Remus' hair as his lover growled
  over him. Then again, because his mind couldn't think of anything else to say
  "Oh."
  "I can't," Remus moaned, tongue dipping into his belly button. Control was
  like mist, drifting away from his grasping fingers as the heat between his
  legs grew fiercer and more demanding, wanting Sirius to know, wanting Sirius
  hard, wanting to taste to bite to rend to own...
  "NO" he snarled, rising up until his head brushed against the top of the
  cage. Sirius' eyes were wide and shocked, but not frightened as he looked up
  at him, shirt a tattered memory and pants half-way undone. "Sirius, please, I
  can't control," he sobbed, head turning so he didn't have to look at those
  innocent eyes. He couldn't force Sirius into feeling this. He couldn't be a
  monster.
  But, ah, it was so close. The moon called his blood and clenched his heart.
  His body jerked as Sirius slowly began to move, but he wasn't trying to get
  out like Remus had asked, like he should. Instead, he gently took a small
  hand in his and brought it to his lips to kiss, eyes bright as he met Remus',
  not letting him look away. His smile seemed to say `I'm not afraid of you' as
  he kissed his knuckles again, oh so gently, then turned his hand over. Remus
  could hear his own labored breathing as Sirius' breath gusted over his wrist,
  then jerked in surprise when he bit into his palm.
  "Sirius," he warned, then shuddered, shock and arousal coursing through him
  when Sirius lightly nipped at his thumb. A growl sounded from deep within his
  chest, rising up and out as he wrenched his hand away and grabbed Sirius'
  hips, yanking his pants down with a desperate snarl. His blood boiled within
  him, animal, as his nails raked down soft white thighs, leaving pink marks
  that slowly faded as he pressed his mouth against Sirius', hard, tracing his
  lips with his lips with his tongue. Sirius' mouth fell open beneath his, and
  Remus swallowed the groan, hands moving restlessly across his skin as he
  slicked their tongues together, body pressing down against him.
  He nudged Sirius' thighs apart, sliding in between them as he pressed his
  erection against the soft belly, jerking in response. Sirius moaned again and
  bucked up against him, and Remus felt Sirius grow hard against him, body
  responding to the onslaught.
  He tore his mouth away and met those huge, wondering eyes. Arousal sparked
  within the darkening blue, and surprise at the feelings he'd never
  experienced before, swirling with love and confusion and growing need as he
  arched up against Remus, panting.
  "Feel good?" he murmured, leaning in to lick and nip at his neck. Sirius
  jerked in his arms, moaning, panting in deep breaths as Remus' hand slipped
  down his heaving chest, teasing across his nipples which were puckered hard
  and needy. He rolled the sensitive flesh between his fingers, tugging,
  pinching, learning the creases and valleys as Sirius writhed, choking out
  pleas.
  "Remus, God, please, yes, please, ohhh," he sighed, pressing up towards his
  hands as Remus slowly moved down to suck on the skin where shoulder met neck,
  tongue flickering out to wet his collarbone.
  "Yesss," he hissed, lost in sensation, beyond thought or control. Sirius was
  here, in his arms, hard and needing him for the very first time. He wondered
  for a moment what must be going through his head as he smoothed his hand over
  his quivering stomach and took his full cock in his hand, thumb smearing the
  light precome over the head. "Yes, oh, yes, that's it... does that feel good,
  love? Do you like that?"
  "*Remus*." It was as if Remus had lit a fire within the other boy, burning
  away any hesitancy or doubt as he was consumed by Remus' need, Remus' want,
  Remus' low, growly voice and copper-gold eyes and teeth nipping at his neck,
  growing harder and harder as the sun began to sink behind the trees.
  "I want to make you come and scream my name," he growled into his ear as he
  stroked his erection, tugging it roughly. All thoughts of being gentle blew
  away as the human inside of him faded, leaving nothing but the want and the
  need. "I want to make you scream..." He leaned down and bit hard into his
  shoulder, teeth pressing against flesh and almost breaking the skin as Sirius
  jerked his hips up, cock pulsing and body close, so close to some place that
  he had never been.
  If Sirius hadn't moaned his name at that moment, Remus may have taken him
  over the edge then, pulling him viciously after him before he turned on him
  and ripped his little body apart. He may have not waken from the red-lust
  haze until it was too late.
  The last rays of the sunset cast over him as Sirius screamed his name and
  Remus jerked away.
  ~Oh God~ he thought, looking down at Sirius, ~what have I done?~
  Remus jerked away, shuddering, beads of sweat trailing down his body as he
  slammed back into a far corner of his cage. He wanted to rip Sirius open and
  taste him, wanted to make him scream as he came, wanted to see that loving,
  wondering expression on his face again and again...
  "Re-Remus?"
  He turned his face away to watch the sun make it's silent descent, face
  pressing up against the bars.
  "Get out," he said, voice so rough. His body ached with need. He hurt.
  Sirius rose up onto his knees, wincing a little. His cock, hard and
  beautiful, bobbed with his movement, and Sirius seemed caught between worry
  and hedonistic wonder at the new sensations coursing through his body. "I..."
  "GET OUT!" Remus roared, face contorting on rage and animal lust, and Sirius
  swallowed and nodded, scuttling back away from the shuddering boy. Remus
  could barely fight back the Dark Man within him, could barely shove back the
  urge to pounce to freedom and his mate as Sirius slipped out of the cage,
  locking it behind him.
  "Oh, God," he sobbed, curling up as small as he could on the cold floor,
  ignoring Sirius as he tried to soothe him. "Oh, God."
  "Remus. You told me to accept something...Remus, I accept this. I accept
  you."
  But Remus didn't hear him. The pain began lacing through him, spiraling up as
  his consciousness rushed down, drowned out by the rising moon and the howling
  rage within him as he shook within the cage of flesh and bone and little boy
  ideals...
  and became something entirely different.
  =============================================================================
  ~I'm hopeless. Utterly hopeless.~ Another wad of parchment joined its mates
  next to Sirius' bed, a forlorn little heap of forlorn little stillborn
  dreams. He flipped onto his back, rolling over onto the inkpot. Cursing, he
  stood and looked at his favorite t-shirt in disgust.
  A whole week since... since Then, since That Happened, and Remus was acting
  as if nothing had gone on between them. Remus was acting as if they were
  still innocent, as if Sirius was still innocent.
  But, oh, he could taste him on his tongue, could feel him against his skin,
  shivered at night and in the morning and every time in between with the
  sudden, hot, searing tightness between his legs.
  ~Oh, I'm paying attention. Now if only Remus would kiss me again...~
  "Problems?" James asked serenely from his bed, blue eyes peering over the top
  of the Muggle novel he was reading. Catch 22 seemed an odd title for a book,
  but then, Sirius never read fiction. Truth so much stranger than, and all
  that nonsense.
  "This is so hard, James." Sirius stripped off his stained Ziggy Stardust tee
  and tossed it angrily next to the paper pile.
  "If wooing were easy, there'd be more great romances." James smiled
  lopsidedly. "It's supposed to be hard."
  "I can't write a poem to save my life. At this rate, how will I ever win his
  heart?"
  "Sirius, you know quite good and well..."
  "Shut it, James. You know why I'm doing this." For all his short words,
  Sirius rummaged up a smile for his best friend. James took great delight in
  pointing out that it was obvious to anyone with functioning eyes that Remus
  loved him. More than loved him. But Sirius needed more. He needed Remus to be
  besotted with him. As in love with Sirius as Sirius was with him.
  For all they'd been through, for all they'd suffered, for all they'd
  done...Remus had never said it. Never said 'I love you, Sirius'. They slept
  entwined by night, and were inseparable by day. Sirius knew he shouldn't
  expect it. He felt it, most of the time, and wasn't that supposed to be more
  important than the words?
  James put down his book and started going through the pile of discards,
  eyebrows creeping up further with each one. To his credit, he managed not to
  laugh outright. It was so obvious that his dearest friend, his brother in all
  but blood, had poured his heart and soul into those clumsy phrases.
  "Sirius...why are you writing poetry?"
  "That's what you do, James."
  "No, that's what a poet does, Sirius. " He eyed the castoffs. "How many of
  these have you actually given him?"
  Sirius had the good grace to look chagrined. "Eight. Give or take."
  "Eight, huh?" James sighed theatrically. "You are so eloquent and you have
  such wonderful words, why should you keep trying to force them into a poem?"
  James gathered the scraps into a pile again, then put them in the trash,
  turning back to Sirius in scheming mode. "Write him a story. Write him...a
  fairy tale."
  A slow smile spread over Sirius' tired face. "A fairy tale? That's a
  wonderful idea. I knew I kept you around for something, James, old boy."
  "You're so cute when you get all English." James batted his outrageously long
  black eyelashes and laughed when Sirius punched his shoulder. "Just please,
  for me, avoid use of the phrase 'orbs of deepest earth' when referring to his
  eyes."
  "Atrocious?"
  "Quite."
  "You're so cute when you get all English."
  "Bloody prat."
  "There you go again."
  "Sirius, write your story."
  Sirius ensconced himself happily in his bed, drawing the curtains and working
  by candlelight. The sound of quill scraping parchment went on for hours,
  until Remus staggered in from the library and crawled exhaustedly into
  Sirius' bed. The other boy scrambled to hide everything--he'd been so
  engrossed in his little world that he hadn't even heard or felt Remus'
  proximity.
  "Hi." Sirius smiled shyly, a little flushed. Remus had interrupted a
  particularly 'good' part of the story.
  "Hello, Sirius." Remus wriggled his scantily clad body into Sirius' arms, and
  he wrapped around the smaller boy instantly, tugging up the covers and
  blowing out the candle.
  "Nice night?" Sirius murmured into Remus' ear, even as he was drifting off.
  "Mmm. Not...particularly. Stupid essay." Remus' warm skin gave off all the
  heat Sirius needed and he burrowed into it greedily, nuzzling into the sweet-
  smelling curve of neck.
  =============================================================================
  The next day at lunch, Sirius tried to give Remus a flower he'd picked,
  against better judgment and at great risk, from the restricted portion of the
  greenhouse. The Whispering Rose wasn't dangerous, but it was very hard to
  cultivate, and was the most delicate shade of purple-blue imaginable. Remus
  had admired it, wishing over and over that they could have just one blossom.
  The rose disintegrated before Sirius could get it to the table, leaving him
  with a stem and a pathetic handful of petals, which he let fall dejectedly
  onto Remus' plate. Remus looked up in surprise, to find a thoroughly
  miserable Sirius.
  "I'm sorry. I wanted...I tried..." Sirius shook his shaggy head and turned
  away, abandoning the idea of lunch, face crimson and eyes stinging. Remus'
  face was shuttered as Sirius fled the Gryffindor table.
  ~Never work...this will never work.~
  "He lovesyoulovesyoulovesyoulovesyou." The petals whispered to Remus, sweet
  and soft in his ears.
  "I know." He answered them as he watched Sirius walk away.
  =============================================================================
  "I felt like beating him up." James declared flatly.
  "No! No, James, it was my fault. I was stupid again." Sirius banged his head
  on James' headboard.
  "You weren't stupid, Sirius. It was sweet."
  "It was a colossal failure."
  "Finish your story. " James smiled crookedly. "I have a good feeling about
  this."
  "Yeah?" Sirius brightened visibly.
  "Yeah. I do." Sirius climbed back into his own bed, retrieving the hidden
  draft and dipping his quill into the deep red ink he was using. "James? If
  Remus tells me to bugger off, will you marry me?"
  "Ah, Sirius, my love, I fear that I cannot. Unless you undergo some radical
  changes...I mean, if you wake up a girl tomorrow, ask me again." James' smile
  gentled.
  "Well, then. I'd better make this story damned good."
  "You will."
  "Cos I'd make one decidedly ugly girl."
  "You said it. I didn't."
  =============================================================================
  The next morning at breakfast, there was a carefully rolled parchment sitting
  on the plate at Remus' customary seat, tied with a blood red ribbon that also
  held another, intact if mundane, rose. Sirius was nowhere to be seen, but
  James smiled secretly and paid far too much attention to his porridge,
  glancing up through his fringe of hair to surreptitiously take in Remus'
  reaction. He saw the other boy wipe the occasional tear from his eye. ~'Atta
  boy, Sirius.~
  =============================================================================
  ~Once upon a time, there lived a boy who loved a wolf. The wolf was sleek and
  beautiful, and not at all scary, at least not to the boy. The boy knew, from
  the first time their eyes met, that he belonged to the wolf. His body, his
  soul, his heart...he laid them all in those delicately clawed paws. His
  throat lie in those snapping jaws, his belly exposed to slashing and mauling.
  Yet still, he didn't fear. The wolf needed love. The wolf needed acceptance.
  The wolf needed the touch of one unafraid. The wolf needed the boy.
  And the boy needed the wolf.
  They lived together, learned together. Slept together and suffered together.
  The boy wanted to give the wolf everything, with no reservations. He
  frightened the wolf, and that just shouldn't be. But there it was....~
  =============================================================================
  Remus rolled the parchment back up and tied it with unthinking precision. He
  went through Transfiguration and History of Magic in a daze. He didn't look
  at Sirius, didn't speak to him. Sirius sat miserably by his side, certain,
  certain he'd ruined everything with his declaration of love. He'd chronicled
  every one of the boy's hopes, and fears, and needs. His needs. Remus had read
  of every feverish fantasy, every one of his body's furtive wants.
  Sirius had wanted to be honest with the wolf he loved, no matter what.
  Now...now it looked like his happy ending was going to stay on parchment.
  By the time lunch rolled around again, Sirius wanted so badly to run again.
  But he couldn't. He couldn't leave Remus' side. So he forced a transparently
  fake smile onto his face and went through the motions, tripping over every
  third chair until they finally took their seats. He sat still, ignoring his
  food. James was looking at him worriedly.
  "Well...look at little Siri. You look like you're about to cry, pussy-boy.
  You about to crrryyyyy?" Lucius loomed over the Gryffindor table, Snape in
  his customary place behind him. Remus and James and Peter bristled, but
  Sirius warned them off, dragging himself tiredly to his feet.
  "Lucius, go away. No one's in the mood for your shit today."
  "What's wrong, Siri-love? Is your pretty little fucktoy not putting out? Your
  ass not getting a good enough working-over?" Lucius looked Sirius up and down
  appraisingly. "Poor little thing, taking it up the ass like a good little
  boy. Does he do you right, Siri? Does he fuck you so nicely?"
  Sirius opened his mouth and shocked himself by bursting out in tears. He was
  mortified. Outraged. Infuriated. He was crying his eyes out. Over Lucius
  fucking Malfoy.
  Lucius leaned in, cold, cruel delight marring his aristocratic features. One
  long hand reached out to wipe away Sirius' tears with mocking solicitousness.
  Remus snarled into motion, and Lucius' wrist found itself broken, crushed in
  one small, square hand. Brown eyes flashed copper-hot as Remus growled, "Do
  NOT touch MY boyfriend."
  Still holding Lucius' wrist in a vise grip he met Sirius' eyes. "My
  boyfriend." He repeated tenderly, wishing that Sirius didn't look like he'd
  just been given the most unexpected of gifts.
  "Yours." Sirius whispered reverently.
  Remus smiled and let Lucius drop to the stone floor. James stood and
  announced brightly. "Well, I'll be getting you to the infirmary. You need to
  learn, Lucius, how vicious those Bludgers can be." Remus heard James mutter
  under his breath as he absconded with Lucius out from under Severus' nose.
  "If you say it was Remus, I will tell Dumbledore exactly what you said, down
  to the last word. I think he'll particularly like 'pussy-boy', don't you?"
  Remus didn't even spare them a glance, though he would be eternally grateful
  to James. "Sirius, are you all right?"
  "I am now, Remus. I am now."
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