Your words touch my skin
AN: written for myparanoidbestfriend—mine, not yours!—because Draco and Harry are taking their time fucking on a chair—this is to make up for all the time they're taking. Do forgive me... they're almost there, I swear!
Warning: phonesex.
It became this frequent thing—well, not frequent. Steady. Like an unspoken deal between them. It was as if one had whispered in the other's ear as they parted: "don't forget to call me after battle." Just that they hadn't.
On the night that Dumbledore made Sirius go into hiding Remus hadn't been at home. He'd been working late, filling papers for the ministry. It was in no sense interesting whatsoever. But it needed to be done and Remus was the person that needed to do it. He had no clue that when he'd go home that evening, ready to cuddle into bed with his lover, the bed would be completely and disturbingly empty.
The battle that followed the next night had been expected—Remus knew it was coming and it had frightened him to no end. Sirius wasn't even there, but Remus needed to be sure he was okay. He needed to check—and even though Dumbledore had told him not to contact the other man (he was potentially dangerous) he chose to ignore this fact. Remus was sure Sirius wasn't evil or any of that—as were James and Peter, but Dumbledore wouldn't take risks—and it just wasn't fair he'd been taken away from him so abruptly. They hadn't even said goodbye, see you soon.
They didn't talk about the war. It was all about how they were okay, and yes love, I'm still breathing. After that fights weren't mentioned and they just pretended everything was okay, like they weren't in two total different places at all. Dumbledore knew they had these phone calls—he was afraid to mention it, because Remus had been so strong, so strong, how could he tell him that no, Remus, you're not allowed to talk to a potential-traitor that happens to be the love of your life. He just couldn't.
Remus closes the door behind him, hanging his coat over a chair—he hasn't been home in four days, but it's okay. He's okay. I'm breathing, and he makes way to his bedroom, picking up the phone on his way. Changing into his pyjama's—an old, too big shirt, some shorts and Sirius' socks, which he pulls up over his knees—he leaves the phone on the bed, slowly undressing to soothe the hurt that's always there—no matter what. Only Sirius helps.
When he's changed he gets under the blankets, making himself comfortable he lays on his side, and for a second he stares at the black phone. The horn, the handle. Then he dials the number, pushing the speaker button, and waits. He hears it ring barely once, before a click sounds through his room and he knows the other man is there—so close but too far away.
"Tell me you're okay," he immediately pleads. "Just tell me you're okay."
He can't help it. The way he walks the battlefield, how he goes home and the slow way in which he changes—it's all just a façade, telling himself he's just fine but he never is. Never unless he can hear that voice. So he begs and he'll do whatever it takes—Sirius needs to be okay. No matter how weak that makes him look.
"I'm okay baby," his deep voice fills the air, taking hold of the room and keeping it steady—it's like he just picked up the house and refuses to let go. The whole room spins because it's Sirius. And Remus can almost imagine him in some creepy weird bed, laying on the right side—because the right side is Sirius' and the left side is Remus'. He'd be looking at him—Remus knows that if he outstretches his hand, Sirius would be able to feel it. But he doesn't because Sirius isn't in their bed—he's in some creepy weird bed, some place that's not next to Remus. And it hurts. "I'm good—and you Love? You're good? Please tell me you're good."
His voice is just as broken as Remus' and that makes him feel better—after this, after the pain they can just move on and be happy to hear each other talk. Now he's still broken. Just a simple sentence and he'll have swished them back into oblivion.
"I'm fine," it seems as if now he's able to breathe again—it goes easier, like a weight off his chest. "Just a bit tired—there's this stupid owl right outside the window."
"Hah," Sirius chuckles. "I remember that one—he came back every time we shooed him away—did you try earplugs?"
Remus laughs too, burying one ear in his pillow he stares at the phone, smiling. He hears Sirius move, a piece of furniture cracking and wonders where the man is—Sirius beats him to it.
"Where are you baby?" he purrs softly, sweet sounds filling the air.
"In our bed," he cuddles closer to the blankets as if somehow Sirius will notice. "You?"
"In that creepy weird bed," he huffs and Remus smiles again. "I wish I was there with you—I miss your body sleeping next to mine."
Remus catches on to the teasing tone in his voice, but plays innocent.
"I miss you too," he says softly. "I feel empty without you."
It could mean so many things, but he hears Sirius chuckle hoarsely and knows what he's thinking about—not a second does he doubt that there's only one thing on the man's mind.
"Mmm," there's a slight pause and Remus can almost see Sirius close his eyes and bite his lip—he always does that when he's thinking about anything involving Remus and nakedness. "What are you wearing?"
"Your socks," he thinks about it for a second. "A shirt and shorts."
"The blue ones?" Sirius asks—and it's then that Remus realises he's unconsciously dressed the way Sirius likes him best.
All the nights they'd spent at Hogwarts had been amazing. When they sat in front of the fire, just the four of them in their pj's, it was only the beginning of the fun, because they both knew that when they went to the dorm there'd be fire between them. One night close to summer, Remus had been wearing his short navy blue shorts and a too-big sweater. Sirius had been on edge all evening, ready to just pound Remus through the carpet if they didn't go somewhere secluded now. The next morning, when he'd pulled a pair of Sirius' socks up because his feet were cold—planning on getting some water from the jug next to James' bed—Sirius had immediately pounced on him again.
"Yeah." It's really just a heavy huff, but it doesn't matter and he can feel himself growing hard nonetheless.
Sirius groans softly and complains hoarsely: "no way that's fair—I'm not even there to take them off. Let alone fuck you into the mattress for being such a tease."
Remus wonders now who's the tease? When the words sent a jolt up his spine. He bites his lip and curls up into a ball, staring intently at the phone.
"I can do it for you." He whispers and Sirius jumps at the invitation.
"I like that idea," his voice is low and it re-vibrates through the room, thrilling Remus as it seems that the whole room shivers because of it. "Undress for me baby."
Remus closes his eyes, draping the duvet away to the foot of the bed, and slides off his t-shirt over his head—he makes sure he's close to the phone, since Sirius has really good hearing and he just knows Sirius will hear the fabric against Remus' skin. He hears Sirius' breathing harden and arches his back slightly, turning over on his back. He starts lowering his shorts and hears Sirius hold his breath. He pauses—and Sirius notices the lack of sounds.
"Siri," he blinks at the phone, hands still on his shorts. "You better be as naked as I am or I'm gonna kick your butt."
He hears a hoarse chuckle and then the noise of a zipper opening—his hearing is great too, and he hears the jeans slide down that soft marble skin.
"Satisfied?" Sirius teases—and Remus moans because he knows Sirius is naked and he could be so close but he isn't. The image is clear in his head—all those times Sirius has been naked with him in this bed and it's too good.
"Very." He groans and pushes his shorts down, over the socks—he knows Sirius will ask about them later.
"Mm," Remus hears Sirius shift in the bed carefully, probably making himself more comfortable. "I can almost feel you next to me baby."
He purrs in agreement and rakes his fingers over the white socks—he hears Sirius groans, realising he heard the noise.
"Baby, you're keeping your socks on?" his voice is so low, barely there, almost broken down, and Remus nods—he can truly almost see the other man, just a breath away, hard and wanting him.
"Don't you like me best like this? Naked and socks reaching my thighs?"
"Don't say that baby," Sirius moans again, and he hears his own fingers go over naked flesh. "You'll make me come."
"But I want you to come Siri," Remus protests—and he really wishes Sirius was right next to him because he needs him so damn much. "I like to hear you when you come—you make such sexy noises."
"Heh," he laughs, his breathing laboured. "Why aren't you Love? Aren't you happy?" he suddenly sounds concerned, having noticed the fact that Remus wasn't moving. "You still okay?"
"I wish you could touch me." Remus admits, and he knows he shouldn't but sometimes it hurts that Sirius isn't there—they're supposed to be pretending that they're okay. But he also knows Sirius is going to make him feel better.
"I know baby, but I'm right here," Sirius coos softly, and it's almost like he's whispering in Remus' ear. "And you can do that for me, remember—we're so damn close your hand against your skin might as well be mine."
"Yeah," Remus nodded. "You're right."
"So you'll make pretty noises for me?" Sirius tempts him back into happiness—like only Sirius can, and that's one of the reasons Remus loves him so. He can make Remus happy, without even being there, without even trying too hard.
"Anything you want Siri." Remus purrs, and he means it.
"Good, Love, I want you to fuck yourself for me," the brunette's heart starts beating faster at the mere idea, and he arches his back slightly off the bed, his hands still raking over his legs. "Don't worry baby, I'm here with you, 'kay?"
Remus feels his whole body shake as he turns around, sitting down on his knees. He leans over reaching for the nightstand, body shivering as the room fills with some of Sirius' breathy pants. When he's found the jar he's looking for—plain white, but it smells nice—he unscrews the cap and Sirius' breathing hitches.
"Baby?" He asks softly as Remus dips his finger in the slick substance.
"Yeah, I'm just lubing up my fingers," he steadies himself, trying to get his heart to stop beating so damn fast, but it's not working. "Okay."
Sirius shuffles on his bed again, and Remus slowly pushes one finger inside, immediately moaning hoarsely. He can feel his cheeks heating up—because even though they've been together so many times, the noises from his lips are still quite disgraceful, all because of Sirius. His vision keeps on blurring with images of Sirius—Sirius showering, Sirius running his hands down his jeans, Sirius...
"Neh, Siri," he moves his finger in and out of his body, one hand gripping the sheet below him as he tries to keep steady—he feels his hard-on throbbing and it feels so good. "God, Sirius."
"Mm," Sirius moans too, and Remus slips a second digit inside, biting his lip harder, panting harshly. His chest arches against the duvet, ass still up in the air as he continues moving in and out. "You sound so nice baby—tell me how good it feels."
"It feels really nice Siri," he purrs, crocking his finger and whimpering in pleasure. "So good—it's almost like you're here, touching me and making me feel this way," Sirius groans and Remus can hear skin moving over skin. "Please touch me."
"But I am," he whispers and his words carry on the thick air, caressing Remus' skin—it makes it seems so real and he closes his eyes tightly. "Sliding a hand between your hot thighs, teasing against the line of your socks, stroking you softly—can you feel me?"
Remus nods, and he's really close now—his fingers move faster and he adds another one, biting his lips. Tears are welling up in his eyes because he feels so nice and Sirius is just driving him insane.
"Siri," he moans again and Sirius does the same not a second later. "Is this good for you too? Tell me what to do because you're driving me crazy," there's harsh intake of breath and his body shiver—God. "I'm so close."
"You're doing great baby," Remus can hear him—the bed creaking and his hand gliding over his slick skin—he continues moving and hopes he's doing something right because he wants Sirius to like this too. The older man groans harshly, and Remus knows then that this is as good for Sirius as it is for him. "I'm close too, God Moony, you make me feel so good," the movements get faster and Remus' cheeks feel like they're on fire, like the rest of his body—just for Sirius. He crocks his fingers and brings them closer together, pushing them in till the knuckle—and the noise is so loud he's really happy he has no neighbours. "Ahn, baby," Sirius moans loudly too—and if he's in a hotel he might get into trouble for that. "I'm almost there."
"Me too," Remus moves faster, clawing at the sheets and he can feel it coming. "Siri! I'm gonna..."
"It's okay baby," Sirius' voice is completely gone and he huffs. "It's okay, just let go Moony—I'm there."
There is a second of complete silence—Sirius' heavy breath leaking into the room through the phone—and then they were both coming.
"Siri—us," Remus bites his lip but the strangled cry still escapes—mingling in the air with his own name falling from Sirius' lips. He comes on his own chest, and hears Sirius arch against the creepy weird bed that isn't theirs. He slowly pulls his fingers out and falls down onto his side, staring breathlessly at the phone. "Siri?"
"Ye—yeah?" his breath fills the air as Remus tries to steady his own—his heart is beating like mad and he closes his eyes, promising himself he'll clean up later, but he's not sure he'll be able to comply.
"I love you." He whispers softly, and feels a tear sliding down his cheek—because this seems real, but Sirius is somewhere else, no matter how much he likes to pretend he isn't.
"I love you too baby." Sirius replies—it sounds so close, and if he just keeps his eyes closed like this, he can almost feel Sirius' hand whipping away the single tear—his voice cooing soft nothings through the phone, until they both fall asleep, listening to each other's breathing—not even caring about the expensive phone-bill.
AN: I'm not sure that's correct phonesex—but it's really all up to yourself how you do phonesex. Well whatever. I like writing phonesex. I think I'll let James and Lucius have some fun with the phone soon.
Okay... I hope that didn't come off as too bad—because I tried to make it about feelings too. About how much they miss each other and how they just want to be together? You know... seriously... was it as bad as I think it was?