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Losses and Recoveries
Sex itself wasn’t the problem. There had been quite a lot of sex, actually. Morning sex, after
dinner sex, middle of the night sex ... No, the having of sex was no problem at all. It was the
nature of the sex that caused Remus concern.
As Sirius slept upstairs in the room they shared, Remus sat in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld
Place, elbows propped on the table, face propped in his hands, and he pondered what he could
do – if anything – about this unexpected change in his relationship with Sirius.
As young men, Sirius had usually been the aggressor in bed. Not that Remus would simply lie
back and think of England. No, Remus had been more than content with the way things worked
between them. A life of fine-tuned emotional control and necessary deception took its toll on a
person, and being able to trust Sirius enough to let him take that control away from him – even if
just for a little while – had felt like a gift from a kinder god. Kinder, certainly, than the one
who’d seen fit to allow him the curse of lycanthropy.
When Remus had moved into Grimmauld Place with Sirius, he’d have been lying if he’d
claimed not to feel the heat between them, the rekindling of their youthful desire.
During the time that Sirius had stayed with him, after the tragedy of the Triwizard Tournament,
they had been stiff and awkward with each other. It had taken nearly two weeks before they
could smile easily with one another, and one more before their talks moved beyond pleasantries
and on to past hurts, misunderstandings, regrets, and apologies. Definitely not the time for
romance – or even a quick fuck.
But here, among the debris of Sirius’s childhood and the hopes for what was left of Harry’s,
Sirius’s gaze had begun to linger. His touches had become more frequent. It became hard – in
more ways than one – for Remus to resist the relentless, if not terribly subtle, affection.
So he hadn’t. They’d been given a second chance. And with another war upon them, they might
not live to get a third.
Yet once they began, once the clothes were off and their bodies pressed together, Sirius had let
Remus make all the moves, all the demands, and take all the control.
Remus hadn’t thought anything of it that first time, or even the second or third. But any attempts
to encourage Sirius to take control – be “top dog,” as it were – past the initial invitation were
met with resistance. As a matter of fact, the one time in all these months that Remus had
managed to get Sirius inside of him, he’d still been on top. Sirius, underneath, had allowed
Remus to set the pace, control the thrusts, and do all the “work.” It was unsettling. Pleasurable,
but unsettling. This wasn’t the same man that Remus had fallen in love with.
Not that Remus didn’t understand. James and Lily. Azkaban. Peter on the loose. Harry to
worry over and look after. There had been and still was enough pain and stress to change the
man. Remus hadn’t exactly been left unchanged, as well. And he still loved this man, this
Sirius, in all his broken glory.
And so he came up with a plan, one that would hopefully pull Sirius out of his darkness – at least
for the times they could be together. That was what Sirius had done for him, after all, once upon
a time.
Remus waited. He waited for the touches to start, the glances to linger, for Sirius’s unspoken
request. It came the night after the one Remus had spent pondering in the kitchen. They retired,
glad to be done with Order members for the evening, and Sirius placed one arm around Remus’s
waist, his hand on his hip, as they climbed the old stairs. Remus looked at him, catching his
eyes, and smiled.
“Long day,” he said affectionately. “You must be knackered.”
“What? From sitting on my arse all day, listening to you carry on with Shacklebolt and Moody?”
Sirius responded testily. “Not quite, Moony. I’m quite energetic, if you understand my
meaning.”
Now Sirius was practically leering, and Remus wished desperately that such a display of
confidence would last longer than the time it would take them to reach the bedroom and disrobe.
Well, that was the point of tonight, wasn’t it?
“I don’t know, Sirius. I, myself, am knackered. I think I’d simply like to go to sleep.”
Remus felt the grip on his hip tense for a moment.
“Well, Remus, if you think you should ...”
“Unless, of course, you can convince me otherwise,” Remus broke in, his own leering look
firmly in place.
Sirius smiled, and his grip relaxed as they entered the bedroom.
“It shouldn’t take much convincing, I should think,” Sirius whispered in his ear, his breath
making Remus shiver with desire.
Remus slowly removed his robe, letting it fall to the floor dramatically. He began unbuttoning
his shirt, still taking his time, his eyes never leaving Sirius’s.
“Prove it,” he challenged, seeing the ragged rise and fall of Sirius’ chest.
Up until tonight, Remus had allowed the gratefulness of simply having Sirius in any way, shape,
or form to dictate his actions. Now, he was determined to let Sirius dictate his actions.
Sirius removed his robe, and began working on his own underclothes, as Remus now stood
naked. Remus could not expect Sirius to simply run forward and throw the both of them onto
the bed, and he understood that he would have to take some initiative if this was going to work.
He held out his hand once they were both naked, and Sirius came forward, taking his hand and
kissing his mouth briskly. Remus backed them toward the bed, falling so that Sirius would land
on top of his body.
They lay there, simply kissing, for a short while, and Remus made no attempt to hurry things
along. He kept his hands on Sirius’s back, now and then gently massaging with his fingertips.
He waited to see what Sirius would do next.
He shifted a bit, until he was only half on top of Remus. He threaded the fingers of one hand
through Remus’s hair, and the other traced patterns on his stomach as they continued kissing,
more passionately now.
Sirius was hard, his erection pressing up against Remus’s thigh, and their kisses were wet and
lush, tongues entwined pleasingly. Yet Remus could tell that Sirius was holding back, waiting
for him to make the next move. Sirius’s fingers on his stomach were chastely staying away
from his cock, and he was barely thrusting against him. Remus waited patiently, but after a
much longer while, it became obvious that Sirius wasn’t planning on taking control in order to
move things forward.
This was how it happened every time. Sirius would encourage, then retreat.
As his hope faded that simply playing passive would actually help Sirius take the initiative,
he opened his eyes to find Sirius looking right at him, and there was passion, need, love –
and tension.
Damn. Words might be necessary.
“Sirius, Sirius, wait ...” Remus gently took hold of his hand to still his movements and broke
their kiss.
“Moony, what ...” Sirius was obviously confused, and that wasn’t helping him relax.
“Love, I ...” Remus began, but as he looked at Sirius, saw the uncertainty and confusion in his
eyes and his posture, suddenly Remus understood.
Sirius could fight with Molly, exchange insults with Snape, grudgingly follow Dumbledore’s
orders, and hold himself together for Harry; he could do all those things and give everyone the
impression that, while ever so slightly mad, he was still strong. But with Remus, he didn’t need
to be strong. He didn’t need to be in control. He felt safe enough to allow his vulnerabilities to
rise to the surface. Remus in control – that was what eased the tension from his mind and body.
What on earth had Remus been thinking, wanting to deny him this one freedom?
No, there was a better way. They could both have what they wanted, what they needed, from
each other.
Remus reached out and traced the lines around his eyes affectionately, and Sirius leaned into the
touch.
Remus’s fingers drifted down to his mouth, and he inserted one between Sirius’s parted lips.
His tongue rolled gently around his finger, and then he began sucking on it. Remus sighed,
the sensation hitting him low and deep. He pulled his finger back a bit, intensifying the feeling
of suction, and then slid it back in. Sirius moaned and closed his eyes, clearly enjoying the
simulation of an even more intimate act.
“You like that, don’t you? Yes, so do I. Do you know what I’d like even more?” Remus asked,
his calm tone belying his growing anticipation.
Sirius released his finger and started to move down between Remus’s legs, but Remus caught
him by the arm and tugged him forward so they could exchange a brutally heated kiss. Their
erections pressed together, and Remus moved his hands firmly down Sirius’s back until they
reached his arse. He grabbed, pushed and thrust until Sirius began thrusting on his own. They
kissed and they rubbed, the friction nearly painful -- the only lubrication being the precome
leaking freely from them both – until Remus recognized the whines and pants coming from
Sirius as those he made when he was close to orgasm.
Remus released Sirius’s arse and caressed his way back up his body until he reached his
shoulders. He pushed him down and shifted his own hips up until his legs were wrapped
around Sirius’s back. It was a little awkward, but there could be no mistaking what Remus
wanted, as Sirius’s cock was now placed, well, where it was most wanted.
They had not done it like this since their youth. It was what Remus needed, though, yet had not
thought to ask for. Sirius had been so reluctant to dominate sexually since they’d started up
again, and Remus had been befuddled by his behavior. Yet the answer was so simple. If Remus
wanted Sirius to top, to take control, then he just had to tell him to.
Sirius looked questioningly at him. Remus simply reached over toward the night stand and
opened the top drawer. He removed a small jar and pressed it into Sirius’s hand.
“I want you to fuck me, Sirius. And I don’t want you to be gentle.”
Sirius’s eyes fluttered shut and he moaned, ever so slightly. Remus felt that groan in his own
cock, as it twitched in response.
“Now, Sirius.”
Sirius leaned back, sitting on his haunches, and unscrewed the lid from the jar. He scooped out
the lubricant and coated his fingers liberally.
As Remus felt the first finger breech his entrance, he wanted to look, he wanted to watch as
Sirius prepared him, but his eyes nearly rolled back into his head from the pleasure of it, and he
was unable to force his gaze downward. He began to thrust down onto Sirius’s buried finger,
indicating that he was ready for a helluva lot more than one.
Sirius understood, apparently, because suddenly two more fingers were inside him, and it felt so
tight and intrusive and almost perfect. Almost.
“Need you inside me, Sirius, now. Right now.”
Sirius removed his fingers and crawled over Remus. He reached up and pulled down a pillow to
place underneath hips. Then they were ready.
“Remember – I don’t want you to be gentle,” Remus reminded him.
Sirius paused, then leaned forward to place a soft kiss upon Remus’s lips. Their eyes locked,
their years and experiences – separate and together – flowing between them and further charging
the moment.
“I haven’t forgotten anything, Remus. At least, I haven’t forgotten this.”
And Sirius drove into him in one, quick thrust and Remus thought he would die from the
pleasure and the pain of it, opening him up physically and emotionally. He lay there for a few
moments, letting Sirius pump hard and fast, reveling in the feeling he’d almost given up on ever
experiencing again.
It was a brutal pace, and Remus was certain he would come without so much as a finger stroking
his cock, it was so good. It was so real.
He collected his wits enough to start matching Sirius thrust for thrust until they were both
panting with the need to fall off the edge of this stupid, cruel world and into one that would
welcome them; one that would hold them tight until they were strong enough to face the day-to-day once more.
Sirius leaned down and sucked on his throat, and Remus knew he wouldn’t last long now,
knew that Sirius needed only to hit that spot a few more times and ... and then Sirius bit him.
Remus came harder than he could ever remember coming before, untouched, except for the
friction from Sirius’s belly. Sirius had bit him -- had bit him hard enough to bruise and that had
been more intoxicating than the hard thrusts he could still feel somewhere back in the real world
he had just left behind.
As he began to come around, he realized that Sirius must have come too, because he was no
longer thrusting into him. His weight was still heavily pleasant on top of Remus, and there was
a mischievous smile gracing his features.
“All right there, Remus?”
Remus laughed.
“You bit me.”
Sirius’s smile faltered.
“I’m sorry, I got carried away ...”
“Berk. Don’t you dare apologize. There’s been enough of that between us, eh? And you
especially needn’t apologize for that.”
Remus kissed him then, and clung tightly, so incredibly grateful to feel Sirius solid in his arms.
They had both changed, not entirely for the better, yet not entirely for the worse. And it was a
certainty that they would continue to change, as people do. But this time, and from now on, at
least they’d cope with the changes together.
END.