Beneath the Tryst.

Summery: A midnight scene of two lovers meeting, as one spurned lover watches. RL/SS & RL/SB implied.
Warnings: Some minor male/male references. There's a little more as the parts go along.
Disclaimer: I didn't and I don't, and if I had and did, I wouldn't be here.
A/N: This began life as a rather messy, very frustrated mind explosion, casually splattered on a page.
Not much about it has changed since then. :)

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Part One: Sirius Black.

He stood hidden, deep within the cover of the quiet night's embrace. The frozen air breathed around him, his fur was gently ruffled by the breeze. On four huge paws, on uneven ground, he stood and watched the sleepy world.

The hushing sounds of far away waves spread out over the darkened grounds, as the lake swam within itself, below. The echoed sounds of things moving within the forest pricked his ears, teased his senses, and tried to steal his mind away.

The castle loomed, intimidating, yet inviting, above, across the way. The many ghosts, trapped within the stone, pressed themselves as a heavy weight inside his chest, whenever his hollowed, amber eyes flicked over it. Windows sparkled where they lay, punched within the moulding walls. Their glowing lights danced quickly, in hypnotic rhythm with the moving of the air, betraying their fragile, candle sources.

Then, with lowered muzzle, and pressed almost flatly to the ground, he watched the grotesque, nightly scene calmly unfold again. Two figures wound their way together through the darkness, heading over to the moving, breathing forest.

Small growls of almost uncontrollable anger rumbled in his throat as he watched, watched and could do nothing once again.

One figure, looking almost as if it was made from merely shadows of the night, waited, its black cloak billowing almost invisibly around the shining, pale skin. It stood and, with its usual breathless grace, waited.

The second form, dressed from head to foot in a frayed, dull grey cloak, that only just paled in hue from the inky midnight blackness, made its unsteady and unfaltering way towards the waiting first. It slipped once on stone and earth, but moved quickly up and onwards, only watched and never helped on by the other.

When, finally, they meet, they stand, merely feet apart and wait once more. Under starry sky, under cloak of night, they touch again, as always. Always at first they make slow hesitating movements, wanting to close the final distance that parts them, yet enjoying those long moments of delicious anticipation.

He remembers those rare few moments, when they were rightfully his own. He remembers them too vividly, too well; his thick, strong tail almost sways with ecstasy at the memory alone, at the rising ghost of countless nights unspoken and untold. Almost sways again with things strangely shared in silence, until he stilled himself to simply watch the thing, transfixed, transposed, alone.

Then, all at once, inevitably, and with total lack of grace, a passionate kiss brings the distant ones together, without any thought of him. Desperate hands now searched for the sorely missed touch of aching, waiting flesh. Even though this is always the end of the scene, and every night that didn't hold a full moon within it at its centre, held this sight instead, they still tangle as if this is the first and last forbidden touch allowed.

What was once silent, simmering anger is now fury, hurt and rage. The feral growl, only just suppressed before, escapes him now and cuts the night. The sound itself reached those two figures, far away. But now together, now embracing, now down upon the ground, not even the chilling anguished sound of the lost, spurned lover can break them any way apart.