A.N./ Yes, well … couldn't sleep and I thought that I would spend some time on this. I don't think this will go on for much longer. I'm just so worn out lately … I hope you enjoy this anyway. I certainly have thoroughly enjoyed the wonderful reviews that have been posted for this story, and I love every one of you for it! So keep it up, if you will. It'll give me motivation to get up and stop rocking out to my Hanson CD (and I see you sneer out there, but go out and buy the Underneath album and you will then know ultimate love).
After a week, Sirius couldn't sleep. He kept looking over at his curtains, imagining Remus in the bed mere feet from himself. He felt that if he were to reach out past the thick hangings, he would be able to see him, touch him, feel him. And he so desperately needed it.
When he stumbled into sleep, he dreamt of lips. Thin, pale lips. A strong chin pressed just so against his own. Feathered lashes whispered against his cheek. Fingers grabbed at his shoulder, but he didn't pay attention. Not when that mouth was on his. Not with the words that were being silently spoken between them.
"Sirius," that honey-thick voice groaned between the kiss. A whimper, canine and low, escaped him, as he pressed further. Further, further, melding, Remus.
Sirius was delirious with it all.
Remus' body was firm against his chest. Hands were broad against his back, toying with his shirt as he gripped and pulled. They tangled their legs together and Remus growled roughly in this throat. That strong mouth, thin lips now red with the pressure, pushed against his neck where it was the most sensitive. His pulse beat madly against the wet tongue and Sirius' head fell back.
But he continued to fall.
His body was torn from Remus, all the heat and pressure leaving him suddenly. And it hurt. More than he could have ever imagined. Prickling, stinging, stabbing ice flooded his chest and it felt as if he were going to cave in. His plummeting speed increased as the black void all around swallowed him whole. He couldn't even open his mouth to scream.
"Sirius? … Wake up." A voice called distantly.
But he couldn't. He couldn't open his mouth. Couldn't open his eyes. He couldn't even breathe. His lungs heaved in a spasm and he knew that at any moment he would implode. His body began to collapse, curling in on himself, mid fall.
"Sirius! Snap out of it!"
A burst of color exploded behind his eyes, pupils constricting in the harsh light of it. But there was a blank canvas of white, swollen fiber stretched taught. Then, a smudge appeared in the distance. It was just a fleck. A brilliant shade of gold, or amber, or brown, Sirius wasn't sure. All he knew was that it was the most wonderful thing he had ever seen.
And then he opened his eyes.
"Sirius? Are you all right? You were crying in your sleep, mate."
It was Remus in the darkness. It was Remus who was sitting on the edge of his bed, stroking his shoulder comfortingly. Remus, who was leaning in toward him wearing the look of up most concern. And he was beautiful.
Sirius, with a shaky hand, reached up to his own face. He pulled his fingers back, feeling the slippery wetness on his digits. His face stung with embarrassment. He really had been crying. He had never cried in front of anyone, not once. It was always taught as a sign of weakness. So help any youth in the Black family to ever show any emotion other than hatred. Sirius knew that it was wrong, but he still felt the burning sham.
Remus noticed this, and grabbed his hand suddenly. It sent a powerful jolt through his body and Sirius almost ripped it away from him. It felt as if he were being electrocuted by a blinding white light from those long fingers.
"It's okay, Sirius. It truly is."
He laid Sirius' quivering hand beside him, rubbing a smooth thumb in the center of his palm. Sirius lay frozen, not daring to take his wide gaze away from him. Remus pushed his thumb into the tender spot again and Sirius' hand curled instinctively around the long fingers. Their eyes met.
"Are you going to be fine by yourself?" Remus whispered after a while, leaning in even closer. One more inch and Sirius would be able to feel his breath on his cheek. It took everything he could not to lean in those extra spaces.
Sirius' mouth went dry and his eyes flickered to those lips again.
"No," he said without thought. Remus' eyes flashed with something that Sirius had never seen before, but Sirius' Gryffindor heart gave out. "But go to bed. I'm sorry that I woke you …"
His voice sounded like the croak of a frog, and he cleared his throat. The sound cracked through the silence of the room, and they both flinched. They both finally blinked and Remus nodded.
"If you need me, I'll be awake."
Sirius nodded and watched him slip quietly out of the curtains. The sound of Remus climbing into his bed caused Sirius to bite his lip as a wave of pain hit him. It was a throb in his stomach, deep and aching. It wrenched every string of muscle in his body, twisting to the very marrow of his bones. It was a terrible twinge that spiraled down into his heart, raw and angry in every chamber.
Tears sprang into his eyes. Tears that he couldn't stop anymore. But, this time, he didn't feel shame anymore.
The next morning James came up behind him while he was brushing his teeth, clapping him on the shoulder.
"'Lo there, mate. Looks like – Aaaahhh!" James cried, stumbling away.
And with good reason.
Sirius' hair was matted from his tossing and turning. His gray eyes, usually shining and vibrant, were dull with dark, with deep circles beneath them. He was paler than death. And the scariest part was that he didn't seem to care.
"What the hell is your problem, Prongs?" he growled, foamy toothpaste creeping out the corners of his mouth.
"Erm .. it's just- You look a little … Erm-" James stammered, but he was interrupted when Peter and Remus walked into the washroom.
"Morning, ladies" Remus joked, stretching languorously with a long yawn. Sirius' eyes met his and Remus winked one sleepy eye at him. Sirius' own eyes widened for just a moment and he turned abruptly to his sink, spitting out the froth and bubbles. He might as well have coughed up the butterflies while he was at it.
Remus took the sink next to him and pulled out his own hygienic products. Sirius watched the back of Remus' neck, thin muscle peaking just under the soft cotton. Remus smiled at him again, and began to scrub at his teeth.
It was then that he knew that he would tell him.
