Challenge—Without You

Chapter Ten

Without you

The door swung open softly to Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Sirius slipped in quietly after Remus. They quietly mounted the stairs and walked up to the room that Remus had been occupying for the past three years. He sat down on the bed and waited for Sirius to do the same.

"I'm gonna go make us some food, okay? There's a shower to the left—er, you should know that. Um . . .I have a razor in there you can use, if you want to shave. I also have some black nail polish stored in there." At that, Sirius lit up.

"I'll try to be fast, Remus."

"Wait, can we talk a little first?" He looked down, a little ashamed. "It's just because I don't think we've talked, like really talked, for twelve years."

"All right." Sirius smiled, and placed his hand on Remus's face. "I missed you so much. In Azkaban, I only thought of you. God, Remus, I thought I would never see you again. I thought we'd never get to see each other." He lifted his hand, stroking the little silver hoop in Remus's right ear.

"I got it to remind me of you. I couldn't stand it!" He reached out to touch Sirius, but his hand faltered. Sirius reached over, grabbing Remus's hand in his own. "I couldn't stop thinking of you, and it hurt so badly." He clung tightly to Sirius.

"I'm sorry, Remus. I'll never leave you again." he held tightly to Remus, stroking his back through his shirt. "Never leave you, never again." He kissed Remus's forehead.

"Go on then, go take a bath and shave, and what not."

"Okay. I'll be fast, Remus."

"All right. Meet me back here." Sirius was gone in a flash. Remus slowly went downstairs. He made some toast and grabbed some Butterbeers. Nothing much, but he hadn't stored up food in months. He went to the down stairs bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. He rubbed his mustache. He had no idea why he had grown it. He didn't like it anymore. He grabbed his spare razor from under the sink, and slowly began to shave, trying not to cut his lip.

Every stroke with the razor was careful and deliberate. He didn't want to have scabs on his face, not tonight. He didn't want to bleed tonight. He thought it might have been smarter for him to have shaved the night before, but he hadn't thought of that. He hadn't thought straight in weeks. Finishing up, he stored the razor again under the sink and looked at himself in the mirror.

He couldn't see why Sirius found him attractive. His hair was limp, and his face was pale and mousy. He had started to look alive again, since Sirius had escaped from Azkaban. He brought a hand up to his cheek. He looked like shit. Sirius used to call him Beautiful as a pet name. He couldn't find a trace of beautiful in him, and he didn't know how Sirius did. He slammed the door on the bathroom loudly, storming up the stairs.

When he finished he returned to his room to find Sirius still not there. He yawned, covering his mouth with a fist. He was tired. He removed his shirt and slid into bed. He would wake up when Sirius came back. He would just take a quick nap. He was out cold in seconds.

Sirius waltzed into Remus's bedroom with nothing resembling a beard or mustache, with clean hair for the first time in twelve years, and with his nails coated in black polish. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Remus turn over in bed, his chest uncovered.

"Since when do you sleep in the nude," he muttered, staring fixedly at Remus's chest. He saw a long scar stretching from his right hip to his left shoulder and another circular one on his chest. He stared for a long moment at the scars. He knew where the circular one had come from, but he didn't know the other one. It unnerved him that he didn't recognize a mark on Remus's body. He had Remus's body memorized. He had traced it every night, trying to remember every scar, every freckle, every muscle. It had helped keep him sane.

Remus woke with a start. He looked up to see a clean and shaved Sirius. There were scars covering his face, scars Remus hadn't been able to see on his unshaven face. He reached up gently and touched Sirius's scars, tracing each one with his finger, shock covering his face.

"I don't know your face anymore, Sirius," he whispered, shock causing his voice to be tight and small. "I don't know your face or your body. I knew it, but you're so different." He stroked Sirius's face.

"Same to you," Sirius said, smiling gently and gesturing to the large scar wrapping around Remus's torso. "I think we should get reacquainted." He winked, making his intentions painfully obvious.

"Wait, Sirius," Remus's voice was apologetic, and pained. "I'm sorta seeing someone."

"What?" Sirius was in complete disbelief. "What do you mean 'seeing someone'?"

"Nymphadora," he muttered. "You know she's been all over me since I met her in the third year."

"You're dating Tonks?" Sirius stood back up in a hurry. "You're dating my cousin. My female cousin. God, how long did you wait before asking her out? A week? A month? Was I that easy to replace?" Sirius was becoming hysteric.

"No! Never, Sirius! She wouldn't take no for an answer—"

"Oh, bullshit, Lupin." Remus stared. Never, not once, since they had met had Sirius called him Lupin. Not once.

"I only said yes because she can change fucking appearance."

"I'm not following." Sirius's voice was cold.

"She looked like you! Almost passable, and I couldn't stand it!" Remus was screaming, tears pouring down his cheeks. "You left me! You left me, you asshole, dying and alone."

"Well, you're fine, aren't you?" Sirius spat.

"I died, Sirius."

"Don't go all theatric on me Remus."

"I'm not," Remus hissed. "I was dead. I died for twenty fucking minutes. I should have no fucking memory, no brain control, I should be a buggering vegetable, but I'm not. I'm alive, Merlin knows how, but I was scared," his voice broke. "I was scared and alone and she looked like you," he was sobbing. "And she talked like you, and she made it easy for me to pretend it was you. I died, Sirius. I choked to death on my own fucking blood!"

Sirius looked down at the boy lying on the bed, sobbing into his arms, his legs pulled up to his chest, and Sirius felt as though he had just been told it was his fault the world was going to end tomorrow. "Remus, love, I'm sorry." He sat down next to Remus, tentatively wrapping his arms around his lover. "I'm so sorry, love. So sorry."

Slowly, Remus stopped crying and lay in Sirius's arms, worn out.

"I understand, Remus. I understand why you needed her and I will understand if you don't want me anymore."

"But I do! I just don't want to hurt her. She's a sweet girl."

"I think she'll understand. She understands things like this," Sirius smiled and ruffled Remus's hair. "Would you like to make love with me?"

"Can I see you first?" Remus asked, his voice pained and tight once more. Sirius nodded and lifted his shirt over his head. He unzipped his pants and slid them off. Left only in his boxers, he slowly lay on the bed, and let Remus take in the sight of him.

Remus dipped down and kissed Sirius's lips. They were rough, and chapped, not like his memory of Sirius. Then his lips had been taken care of, and soft. He whimpered, not recognizing his lover's kiss. Sirius slid his tongue into Remus's mouth and Remus nearly started crying. This he remembered. This was the same. His hand snaked down to Sirius's side and he stroked the skin there, causing Sirius to quiver and smile into their kiss.

Sirius shuddered, placing his hand on Remus's bare back and stroking the length of his torso. Remus shot up. He grabbed Sirius hand in his own and felt it. It was callused. It was rough. It wasn't what he remembered. He kissed the hand, though. Every inch of it, committing the new feel to memory. He kissed every scar on Sirius face, taking each one in. He ignored his memory, his lips touching every bare part of Sirius, memorizing his body for what it was, not what he remembered it to be.

Sirius sat still, his eyes closed to block tears. He could hear Remus crying and he could feel the gentle touch of his lips on his body. He was mad at himself, because he couldn't been the person Remus remembered. He hated himself, because Remus was crying, and he hated himself because he couldn't even open his own eyes to do anything to help.

When every part of Sirius's body had been adequately memorized, worshipped and loved, Sirius flipped him over, and pulled off his pants, leaving Remus bare. He started at Remus's Adams's apple, nibbling at the sensitive skin there, watching Remus squirm as he remembered he would. He kissed his way down that long, winding scar, kissing Remus's pelvis before returning up and worshiping Remus's upper body once more.

He was disappointed when places he remembered as pleasure spots did nothing for Remus now, and overjoyed when they still worked. It had been twelve years. Twelve years of orgasms brought on by the idea of Remus's nude flesh and his own hand. Now that he had his lover beneath him again, he didn't know what to do. Twelve years and now all he could do was kiss the flesh beneath him and cry.

Remus stayed still when Sirius took him in. He heard Sirius whisper things like "beautiful," and Remus knew he was crying. Sirius was searching out spots he couldn't even remember having. Sirius kissed away his tears and ran his callused hands all over Remus's body, causing Remus to shiver.

When they had both gained control enough to continue, Sirius positioned himself at Remus's ass, and looked at his auburn haired lover.

"Remy, do you have lube?" he whispered, afraid his voice would break.

"No. But I'm relaxed. Do it now, while I'm relaxed."

Sirius slid in pretty smoothly, because Remus was relaxed and excited. Sirius, however, hadn't expected Remus to be as tight as he was, and nearly groaned as the muscles in Remus's ass twitched and tightened around his cock. He slowly slid out and back in. Remus groaned in recognition. This was right. Sirius kissed his neck, and slid slowly out again.

He thrust back in slowly, and Remus slowly rolled his hips. Sirius nipped at Remus's neck and throat, and Remus moaned, shifting his hips so Sirius slid out and then back in. Remus grabbed at Sirius's hair, and slowly slid down and up with Sirius. Their lips met, and their mouths danced slowly, their tongues barely touching, teasing the other with the very tips. Remus nipped at Sirius lips, slowly. Their mouths were attached tightly, and neither had any urge to part to breathe. They knew this kiss; this was a kiss they had shared before. Remus was smiling and crying, and Sirius as holding back his tears as hard as he could.

Their lovemaking was slow and gentle, surrounded in kisses and touches. The pace was slow and rocked together, both reaching their climaxes in unison, before continuing. The both came at least twice, and kept moving, as though they hadn't finished mere moment before. They were smiling and crying, but they needed this. They needed the slowness, the silence, and most of all, after twelve years of cold nights and masturbation, they needed comfort.

The hand gropes

"Remus . . . Remus . . . Remus!" Remus shook his head, coming back to reality, his arm still outstretched, grabbing onto Sirius. No, he wasn't. He was in a restaurant with Harry and Draco.

"Sorry," Remus muttered, rubbing his temples and trying to pretend as if he wasn't still lost in his hallucination. "What were you saying?"

"I was saying I think you should probably see a Medi-witch, because you keep drifting off." Harry sighed.

"I'm fine, Harry," Remus sighed back.

"No you aren't." replied Draco with a snort. "We've been here for an hour and so far you've barely said a word."

"I'm fine."

"You're the biggest liar in the entire fucking world, Remus Lupin," Draco sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Yes, I am Draco," but he was gone again, lost deep in his memory, grabbing thin air for anything he could use to remember Sirius.

"Remus . . . Remus . . . Remus!"

The ear hears

Harry tugged at Sirius's sleeve. "Can I talk to you in private for a moment, Sirius?"

"Harry, I didn't mean to mention the weapon. You're not going to get any information outta me." Mrs. Weasley smiled to herself, almost as if saying "told you so!" When Sirius saw her, he shut his jaw up tightly, so as to not slip and say something horrible to her.

"This isn't about that," he tugged at Sirius and Sirius nodded, grabbing a Butterbeer and following him. Remus stood by the door, drying a plate and trying not to look conspicuous.

"Sirius, I have a question for you. I think I know the answer, but I'm not sure. So I'm gonna ask you bluntly, all right?" Sirius nodded, taking a long swig of his Butterbeer. "Are you and Remus sleeping together?" Sirius choked on his drink coughing in alarm.

"How did you find that out?" he wheezed, while laughter echoed from the other side of the door.

"Well, I'm sorta sleeping with Draco Malfoy."

"You WHAT?!"

"Sirius, really, it's not that big a deal," Harry replied, sheepishly. "But anyways, I saw the look you too were giving each other during dinner, and I recognized it. It's the 'whose room shall we sleep in' look."

Sirius looked at him, dumbfounded. "You are really good! My god. I was gonna tell you at some point. I didn't actually think you'd be able to tell. But I—er, we—were gonna tell you at some point when we thought you were ready. I mean, Remus thought you were ready, but I wasn't so sure—"

Remus shoved the door open and walked in the room with Harry and Sirius. "Sirius. You owe me twenty Galleons. We made a bet and you said he wouldn't find out. I win. Money. Now!" Remus ran over to Sirius and jumped on him and they disappeared upstairs. Harry laughed.

The pulse beats

Remus's hands held tightly to Sirius, so tightly he could feel the other's heart beat, and feel his slow to match. Their hands stayed intertwined and Sirius smiled. He leaned down, gently kissing Remus on the forehead, then on his nose and slowly moved his way to Remus's lips. He kissed his lips again, and Remus parted them to let Sirius's tongue into his mouth. It was a fast paced kiss but neither moved, only connected by their lips and hands.

Remus curled his legs up on the bed next to him and Sirius did the same. He smiled at the little silver band around his finger and the matching one on Sirius's hands. They were old rings, and Remus and Sirius both wore them on their middle fingers of their left hand, but the rings meant more to them then they could say. So they sat on their bed, hands intertwined, they knew it was going to be all right.