His Name
The wood in the low burning fire in the fireplace crackled merrily as its warm light shown on the two bodies entwined on the bed across the room. The room's silence was disturbed only by the wet slide of slick skin on skin, the slap of flesh against flesh, the rhythmic creaking of the ancient mahogany bed, and the soft sighs and deep guttural moans of its inhabitants.
Remus Lupin mouthed the soft skin of a pale shoulder. His hands could not seem to get enough of the long lost flesh. The planes of muscle and the curve of bone were familiar to him, and yet wholly new at the same time. The taste of the young man beneath him was salty with sweat; sweet and young and fresh, just like he remembered. He was perfect. He was beautiful.
He ran his fingers through unruly black hair, the silken threads grasped in his fist, pulling the connected head back to bare its succulent throat. He pounded into the tight heat, loosing himself in the sensations of being where he knew he always belonged. The slight but firm body beneath him fit perfectly, like it always had, in his arms and undulated against him, keeping pace and thrusting his hips up to meet him.
The molten heat that surrounded Remus' cock squeezed and shivered as the walls of his partner's virgin tight hole contracted with its approaching orgasm. His partner's cries began to rise in volume and pitch, screaming as he crested. He sunk himself into that perfect ass, punching deep into his channel as they both reached their release.
"Fuck! James! Oh, fuck!" Remus screamed as he sprayed that tight heat with a shower of his cum. He slumped on top of the limp body beneath him, burying his nose in his neck.
As Remus was lost to unconsciousness next to the boy who had fallen in love with him, brilliant green eyes opened and filled with hot tears. His breathing changed from the panting of sated lust to that of panic and pain like he had never experienced before.
At that moment, Harry Potter smothered a sob as his heart shattered.