WANTING, WAITING, WAIVING, Chapter 8
By Reija Linn
Author's Notes: I've tried to write this chapter in such a way that people who have skipped the NC-17 part in the last chapter will still know what has happened without having to read all the gruesome details *g*. The worst word in this is "semen" - everything else is figurative and left to the imagination. And as far as the word "semen" goes - sorry to all overprotective parents, but we had that word in biology lessons when I was 11 or 12. Thus, I deem it okay for a PG-13.
Waking up in his arms for the first time in so many years was both heavenly and painful, a bittersweet orchestra of feelings in this symphony of angst. Divine, to feel his skin upon mine, his breath on my cheek, to hear the very soft snores he emitted.
Strange, that I should be the first to wake up. In our years at Hogwart's, Remus had always been a early riser, sometimes thoughtful and introverted as he watched the sun slowly start her pilgrimage to the sky, sometimes energetic and full of spirits - I will never forget the day he, James and Lils had plotted to wake 'sleeps like a log Sirius' as they had phrased it by having Lily crawl into my bed in the early rises of the morning, clad only in knickers and an oversized boys shirt - *my* shirt - after a forbidden night of drinking in our dorm. I was still half asleep while Lily scrambled to get her clothes (spread all around my bed) together, all the while mumbling excuses, James shouting at me in a very genuine seeming jealous rage, and Peter standing there, his mouth agape, not believing the scene he was witnessing.
God, I still remember that awkward moment when I thought I'd ruined my most important friendships all at once. A very cruel prank it had been, but when I'd looked at Remus that morning after they'd confessed, I saw earnestness in his eyes that betrayed his smug grin. This was his revenge - their revenge - for the 'Whomping Willow incident'. Remus had forgiven me at once after that, vowing never to mention it again - but this childish prank was his way of showing me 'I've really forgiven you, Sirius, but if you ever do something stupid like that again, you'll regret it.' And I loved him for it.
So many of these little scenes go through my head every day. Every day I see James, levelheaded and calm, the best friend any chap could wish for in his life. Lily, with her tranquil appearance and that wicked sense of humour gleaming from her eyes. I remember Remus as he was then, so warm-hearted and genuinely grateful for every small sign of affection, yet behind all that one of the greatest pranksters Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had ever seen. And I remember Peter, a friend back then, a little chubby and awkward, but clever in his own way, and hopelessly devoted to the rest of us. When had that changed? I ask myself this question every single day, as I have for so many years.
I try so desperately to get my life back together as far as that is possible, seeing that I'm still a fugitive from the law. But every now and then I will experience these lapses into the past, memories seeming all the more vivid for the fact that I'd forgotten about them in Azkaban.
And now, a new memory has planted itself into my mind. Remus' lips on mine, warm and soft and moist, and tasting of my own semen. Remus, gazing up at me as his tongue swirls around my heated flesh in languid movements, soon to speed up. Beautiful memories, yet with the same melancholic touch as my memories from Hogwart's. I can think of James again nowadays without at once seeing his dead eyes before me, laughing as we planned a new mischief or threw mock insults at each other, can think of the good times, yet I know they are in the past, never to be revived.
Will this be the way I will think about my night with Remus from now on? A beautiful if somewhat sad memory, never to be experienced again?
For yesterday, when he had kissed my fingertips, not allowing me to touch him after he had sent me over the brink, I had finally realized. It wasn't black or white, him leaving Joyle to be with me or leaving me to be with her. It was his ultimate dilemma, not being able to leave either of us, yet not willing to become the villain in this game of roulette. Black or Red, a new chance each time. Will it be me? Will it be her? Yet, however we twist and turn, the ball settles on 'nought' every time. And whatever pain and loss we experience, the ultimate victim is Remus, feeling his heart being pulled apart by two strong currents.
That is why I have decided not to let this happen again. That is why, as soon as I am free to go, I will leave their lives. Or at least, that is what I intend to do. That is what I know will be best.
But when I watch him sleep like this, I wonder whether I will be able to. Should he kiss me again, touch my skin with feathery touches, should he whisper into my ear that he wants me to stay, or merely convey it with a look from his eyes - will I really be able to walk away from that, even knowing it is the right thing to do?
And bugger-all, but I can't be certain I will have the strength to do so. What will it be, then? Longing for all times for something I cannot have, watching him each day go to his wife's side in the evening, knowing that she will receive, and, more importantly, be allowed to give what is denied to me? Or, like what we shared last night, forbidden touch and desperate kisses veiled by the dead of night with no one but the moon and the stars to bear witness? Knowing he will return to her, yet accepting his touch, his lips on my skin?
Am I selfish enough to do that, to permit it?
But how should I resist? Do I have the willpower to do that?
I may plan every reaction to every possible situation beforehand, but when the time comes, will I be able to say no when all of my heart and body screams yes?
I can only hope that he will be strong enough not to tempt me again. But is it fair to put this burden on him? Is it not possible that he, too, cannot resist his instincts, his desires? Is it just to make him responsible for anything that may or may not happen?
I wish I could say it was. After all, *he* was the one who married Joyle, and it was *him* who initiated what transpired last night.
Yet in my heart I know that it isn't that easy. When he married Joyle, he made a sincere promise to her, believing I was guilty of murder, believing he would never see me again as I withered away in Azkaban. Then I appear on his doorstep, and instead of the happy reunion of two long-lost friends I burden him with this triangle of love, this impossible situation.
It's not my fault, but neither is it his, or even Joyle's. Hers last of all, actually.
For the first time since hearing that Remus is married, I feel genuine sympathy for her situation. Maybe she will instinctively know what transpired between Remus and I last night, and perhaps she won't. But she knows of the situation itself, and that is bad enough. Is she not more of a victim in this blasted trigonometry than I am? After all, whatever may or may not happen in the future, I know that Remus loves me, and that I love him, and that there is a part of this love that will be forever prevalent, whether we physically act on it or not.
She, however, while knowing that Remus will always return to her side full of sympathy and compassion, while knowing that he will share each night with her in their bed, has to live with the knowledge that he will never truly be hers in soul, as he has been mine and I his before we even knew her. Has to live with the fact that whenever they make love, there is a part of him wanting to be with me. Has to deal with loving him, but knowing that the only reason he is with her and not with me is that the Ministry made a terrible blunder so many years ago.
Of course, there is a part of me wishing for her to realize the situation as it is and leave of her own will. But how could I expect of her what I am unable to do, when her feelings are as strong as mine? Besides, Remus would never forgive himself if she did that, and would I want my friend to suffer through that?
Sure, I would be with him then, but would that make any of us happier than we are now, or less desperate? Even if he does not love her as she loves him he feels strongly for her, and wouldn't her leaving cause just as much heartache to him as if it were me to go? Would he, just because he loves her in another way, not sit in front of the fire at night, wondering where she was and how she was doing? Would he not worry just as much about her as he would about me?
And would I be happy with this, knowing that his mind would go out to her, part of him wishing she had never left, if only to ease the guilt on his soul?
I don't know how the future will progress, and I don't know where I will stand in it, but I do know that there is no outcome that will make all of our hearts less clamped, no solution to this impossible situation the Fates have decided to lay upon us.
TBC
By Reija Linn
Author's Notes: I've tried to write this chapter in such a way that people who have skipped the NC-17 part in the last chapter will still know what has happened without having to read all the gruesome details *g*. The worst word in this is "semen" - everything else is figurative and left to the imagination. And as far as the word "semen" goes - sorry to all overprotective parents, but we had that word in biology lessons when I was 11 or 12. Thus, I deem it okay for a PG-13.
Waking up in his arms for the first time in so many years was both heavenly and painful, a bittersweet orchestra of feelings in this symphony of angst. Divine, to feel his skin upon mine, his breath on my cheek, to hear the very soft snores he emitted.
Strange, that I should be the first to wake up. In our years at Hogwart's, Remus had always been a early riser, sometimes thoughtful and introverted as he watched the sun slowly start her pilgrimage to the sky, sometimes energetic and full of spirits - I will never forget the day he, James and Lils had plotted to wake 'sleeps like a log Sirius' as they had phrased it by having Lily crawl into my bed in the early rises of the morning, clad only in knickers and an oversized boys shirt - *my* shirt - after a forbidden night of drinking in our dorm. I was still half asleep while Lily scrambled to get her clothes (spread all around my bed) together, all the while mumbling excuses, James shouting at me in a very genuine seeming jealous rage, and Peter standing there, his mouth agape, not believing the scene he was witnessing.
God, I still remember that awkward moment when I thought I'd ruined my most important friendships all at once. A very cruel prank it had been, but when I'd looked at Remus that morning after they'd confessed, I saw earnestness in his eyes that betrayed his smug grin. This was his revenge - their revenge - for the 'Whomping Willow incident'. Remus had forgiven me at once after that, vowing never to mention it again - but this childish prank was his way of showing me 'I've really forgiven you, Sirius, but if you ever do something stupid like that again, you'll regret it.' And I loved him for it.
So many of these little scenes go through my head every day. Every day I see James, levelheaded and calm, the best friend any chap could wish for in his life. Lily, with her tranquil appearance and that wicked sense of humour gleaming from her eyes. I remember Remus as he was then, so warm-hearted and genuinely grateful for every small sign of affection, yet behind all that one of the greatest pranksters Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had ever seen. And I remember Peter, a friend back then, a little chubby and awkward, but clever in his own way, and hopelessly devoted to the rest of us. When had that changed? I ask myself this question every single day, as I have for so many years.
I try so desperately to get my life back together as far as that is possible, seeing that I'm still a fugitive from the law. But every now and then I will experience these lapses into the past, memories seeming all the more vivid for the fact that I'd forgotten about them in Azkaban.
And now, a new memory has planted itself into my mind. Remus' lips on mine, warm and soft and moist, and tasting of my own semen. Remus, gazing up at me as his tongue swirls around my heated flesh in languid movements, soon to speed up. Beautiful memories, yet with the same melancholic touch as my memories from Hogwart's. I can think of James again nowadays without at once seeing his dead eyes before me, laughing as we planned a new mischief or threw mock insults at each other, can think of the good times, yet I know they are in the past, never to be revived.
Will this be the way I will think about my night with Remus from now on? A beautiful if somewhat sad memory, never to be experienced again?
For yesterday, when he had kissed my fingertips, not allowing me to touch him after he had sent me over the brink, I had finally realized. It wasn't black or white, him leaving Joyle to be with me or leaving me to be with her. It was his ultimate dilemma, not being able to leave either of us, yet not willing to become the villain in this game of roulette. Black or Red, a new chance each time. Will it be me? Will it be her? Yet, however we twist and turn, the ball settles on 'nought' every time. And whatever pain and loss we experience, the ultimate victim is Remus, feeling his heart being pulled apart by two strong currents.
That is why I have decided not to let this happen again. That is why, as soon as I am free to go, I will leave their lives. Or at least, that is what I intend to do. That is what I know will be best.
But when I watch him sleep like this, I wonder whether I will be able to. Should he kiss me again, touch my skin with feathery touches, should he whisper into my ear that he wants me to stay, or merely convey it with a look from his eyes - will I really be able to walk away from that, even knowing it is the right thing to do?
And bugger-all, but I can't be certain I will have the strength to do so. What will it be, then? Longing for all times for something I cannot have, watching him each day go to his wife's side in the evening, knowing that she will receive, and, more importantly, be allowed to give what is denied to me? Or, like what we shared last night, forbidden touch and desperate kisses veiled by the dead of night with no one but the moon and the stars to bear witness? Knowing he will return to her, yet accepting his touch, his lips on my skin?
Am I selfish enough to do that, to permit it?
But how should I resist? Do I have the willpower to do that?
I may plan every reaction to every possible situation beforehand, but when the time comes, will I be able to say no when all of my heart and body screams yes?
I can only hope that he will be strong enough not to tempt me again. But is it fair to put this burden on him? Is it not possible that he, too, cannot resist his instincts, his desires? Is it just to make him responsible for anything that may or may not happen?
I wish I could say it was. After all, *he* was the one who married Joyle, and it was *him* who initiated what transpired last night.
Yet in my heart I know that it isn't that easy. When he married Joyle, he made a sincere promise to her, believing I was guilty of murder, believing he would never see me again as I withered away in Azkaban. Then I appear on his doorstep, and instead of the happy reunion of two long-lost friends I burden him with this triangle of love, this impossible situation.
It's not my fault, but neither is it his, or even Joyle's. Hers last of all, actually.
For the first time since hearing that Remus is married, I feel genuine sympathy for her situation. Maybe she will instinctively know what transpired between Remus and I last night, and perhaps she won't. But she knows of the situation itself, and that is bad enough. Is she not more of a victim in this blasted trigonometry than I am? After all, whatever may or may not happen in the future, I know that Remus loves me, and that I love him, and that there is a part of this love that will be forever prevalent, whether we physically act on it or not.
She, however, while knowing that Remus will always return to her side full of sympathy and compassion, while knowing that he will share each night with her in their bed, has to live with the knowledge that he will never truly be hers in soul, as he has been mine and I his before we even knew her. Has to live with the fact that whenever they make love, there is a part of him wanting to be with me. Has to deal with loving him, but knowing that the only reason he is with her and not with me is that the Ministry made a terrible blunder so many years ago.
Of course, there is a part of me wishing for her to realize the situation as it is and leave of her own will. But how could I expect of her what I am unable to do, when her feelings are as strong as mine? Besides, Remus would never forgive himself if she did that, and would I want my friend to suffer through that?
Sure, I would be with him then, but would that make any of us happier than we are now, or less desperate? Even if he does not love her as she loves him he feels strongly for her, and wouldn't her leaving cause just as much heartache to him as if it were me to go? Would he, just because he loves her in another way, not sit in front of the fire at night, wondering where she was and how she was doing? Would he not worry just as much about her as he would about me?
And would I be happy with this, knowing that his mind would go out to her, part of him wishing she had never left, if only to ease the guilt on his soul?
I don't know how the future will progress, and I don't know where I will stand in it, but I do know that there is no outcome that will make all of our hearts less clamped, no solution to this impossible situation the Fates have decided to lay upon us.
TBC