The tastes of lemon ginger tea and Sirius Black, the steady patter of rain outsider, Alice and Wonderland perched on his lap- the perfect Sunday
"Isn't that a children's book," Sirius asks.
Aren't we all children, Remus wants to say. He says, "It's a fantasy book."
Sirius answers, "You're a creature of fantasy, Moony". Remus wonders if Sirius is aware of the double meaning, doesn't think so.
Remus reaches out a hand and captures Sirius, folds their fingers together, brings them to his lips and lays kisses flavoured of ginger on Sirius's knuckles. The best thing- Sirius lets him.
Then Sirius is moving, shuffling from one chair to another, curling into his lap and murmuring nonsense. Sirius slips to the floor and someone Remus's fly slips with him, still limp and exposed to the cool spring air in the flat they share- they will share all their lives.
Sirius leans up and once again Remus is mingling ginger and lemon and Sirius and tasting into one sensation, tea forgotten to go cold as his long fingers curve and arch in Sirius's lazy curls. And then he is no longer limp, but quickening to attention as Sirius backs away, moves down-
Remus gasps as Sirius's agile lips find purchase in his most tender of regions. Remus arches up off the chair, moving in a rhythm that Sirius has set, that Sirius always seems to have about his person. He comes silently, barely audible over the pattering of the rain and the raggedness of Sirius's breathing.
"Moony," Sirius breathes, large grey sky eyes blinking up at Remus- ecstasy.
Remus pauses to consider his actions, what he will do, then pushes Sirius back onto the red patterned area rug. Sirius smiles. It's smug; Sirius anticipated this, maybe even angled for it. Remus cares, doesn't like being manipulated, but more than that wants to please Sirius.
Sirius's trousers and pants slide down past wiry leg hair and taught, muscular legs built for riding brooms and men. Remus's own legs are skinny and scarred and no less able at riding, as he aims to prove. His wand moves deftly, well-practiced, a glistening flood of lubricant spilling from it onto Sirius's virility. And Remus slides forward, smiles, mounts, groans.
Sirius's smirk is gone, Remus is pleased to see. It has been replaced by the Oh of a man with his dick too far gone for thought, and Remus moves. Sirius's eyes close, and the rhythm continues- the one that Sirius carries with him in case it's needed, but here with Remus it's often needed. It accelerates, moves to the left as Remus loses his balance just a little, re-centers, accelerates again. Remus pitches forward and Sirius arches up and Sirius comes with a fury of a man possessed.
When both have re-opened their eyes, they see themselves, see two men, one still inside the other, sitting on the floor of their flat, and Remus laughs. Sirius laughs with him, crooning, "I love you, Moony."
Remus, more vulnerable for his position, hates that he blushes. He pulls himself up and away. "Love you too," he mumbles, but Sirius has already gone for his pants.
"More tea?" Sirius offers.
Remus nods, not because he wants more tea, but because he needs to slip into the bathroom and clean up and he thinks Sirius is angling to do the same. Thankfully, there are two washrooms in the spacious flat that Sirius- Sirius alone- pays for. Remus doesn't like that he's a kept man.
He especially doesn't like how everything he doesn't like occurs to him after sex.
He cleans himself, redresses, accepts the hot tea, curls back into the chair and sleeps. For a moment, today, everything was as it had been, and that's good enough for now.