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TRUST – II

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Remus frowned. It wasn't right to tell Harry so much about things. There was a characteristic recklessness in the boy, which he feared, would prove pretty harmful for not only him, but also, others – like Hermione and Ron. Hermione might be the proverbial 'voice of reason', and though Harry did listen to what she said, but he acted on what he wanted to. He was just too much like James – Remus had observed that during his year as a Professor at Hogwarts.

But Sirius had looked so happy. He had not touched liquor and made a genuine attempt to look presentable. Remus watched him as he talked to Moody and Bill about something. His back was turned towards him. It was a good time to escape.

It had been difficult from him to be alone with Sirius ever since the night that he had stayed back. Although nothing had happened between them, but it made Remus uncomfortable.

Thanking his stars, as Mrs. Black did not launch into a flurry of furious curses, he opened the door and went out.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Moony, we've got to talk."

The werewolf started violently as he saw Sirius' face in the fire.

"What are you doing here?"

"I am coming through."

Remus stood up and backed away from the fire. "How did you know that I was here?"

Dusting the ashes off his robes, Sirius said, "I have my ways – and you always seemed to run away without me noticing. You dumped Molly on me. I had no other choice but to worm out your address and confront you in your own territory. Why are you here, anyway? I thought you hated the place."

Remus made no reply as he sat down.

"Moony."

"You wanted to talk. Do that," was the weary reply.

"Right," said Sirius, leaning against the back of his chair. "First, I want to know why you are avoiding me – and don't say that you aren't because I know that you are."

"Why do you ask questions whose answers are obvious to you?"

"Obvious – funny word that one. Why don't you give me a second chance?"

Remus said nothing.

"I am still a murderer by name. I am ROTTING in a house I hate as passionately as I love you. I just manage to avoid putting Snape under Cruciatus Curse every time he sets foot in that house. There are less than zero percent chances of me being useful for the Order. I only ask you to give me a second chance and you don't care. What the hell am I supposed to do with my life?"

"This isn't the time," muttered Remus, rubbing his forehead.

Sirius snorted. "Like there ever will be a time. Dumbledore doesn't look too hopeful about destroying Voldemort, does he?"

"Sirius…"

The taller, darker man came round to the mantelpiece and gripped Remus by his shoulders. "I am worried, damn you! Every time you go among those… well, werewolves… I know you are there kind by blood. But you are not one of them. You are not vicious. You are not Greyback." Remus shuddered involuntarily. "They can kill you any time – or worse. Every time you leave Grimmauld Place I am worried out of my senses that I will lose you. I could never bear that. Never. Not when…"

He stopped abruptly, staring into his grey eyes.

Remus couldn't bear his intense gaze and closed his eyes. He whispered, "I love you. But it… it doesn't seem right."

Sirius' eyes grew brighter and he drew closer. "What's not right?"

"I am a werewolf."

"I accepted you as that long, long ago, Moony."

"And…" Remus opened his eyes, "Something… something just doesn't seem right."

"I don't know what you mean. Remus, you said I didn't trust you. I have apologized for it over and over again. It was my gravest mistake. But now… now I trust you with my soul. I haven't stopped loving you for a whisper of a second. What more persuasion do you need?"

Sirius looked at him with mixed desperation, hurt – and love. Although there was something warning him against it… something trying to keep him from giving himself to Sirius, he cupped the back of his neck and brought his lips to Sirius' in a hungry kiss.

Sirius moaned against his mouth and delved deeper with his tongue. It was intoxicating and yet very unaffected – the sheer sensuality of it mesmerized all their senses but the multitude of emotions expressed through that one kiss brought their whole lives in their mind… they were cut off from everything yet everything dominated their mind.

They broke apart, gasping for air. Sirius ran his fingers through Remus' soft greyish-brown hair.

"Be mine," he said hoarsely – eighteen years worth of emotions seemed to choke him.

"I won't know what else to do," replied Remus – his voice unstrained for the first time in many years.

Sirius lowered his mouth to his jaw, kissing along it till he reached his ear. He bit it sharply, drawing out a whimper from the man unbuttoning his shirt, then soothed it wetly. Remus ran his hands up and down his sides while nuzzling his neck. Sirius slipped his hands under his shirt, rubbing slow circles on his back and chest as he nipped, sucked and kissed along a shoulder. Thrusting his hips closer to the werewolf's, he gasped as his hardening manhood rubbed against Remus' arousal.

Abandoning his slow exploration, he unbuttoned Remus' trousers and slipped in a hand under his boxers to feel the silky skin of his manhood. Remus groaned at the contact, digging his fingernails into his back.

Pulling back for a second, Sirius whispered a spell that divested them both of their remaining clothing.

"Bed. Now. Unless you fancy cold, damp wood," Remus muttered.

Sirius pushed him onto the couch and straddled him with a devious grin, bending over his red hard member, determined to torture him with pleasure.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

It was fortunate that both of them were slim to the point of emaciation or else they would have suffocated to death on the somewhat narrow couch.

Remus was the first one to wake up, being the one on the inner side of the couch – sticky with sweat and almost squashed in.

Running his fingers through his hair, he looked tiredly at the embers dying out in the hearth. As he sat up, he shivered as he left the warmth of Sirius' body and realized the now cold room.

It still didn't feel right.

He didn't know what was wrong with him. He had never been a great believer of divination… and that was what this feeling was like… some sort of… premonition?

He couldn't help snorting at himself.

Looking down at the dark man, sleeping oblivious of the cold, he thought that this was how it was supposed to be – how it was supposed to have been all those years ago.

But Sirius hadn't trusted him then – which he did now.

There is nothing wrong, he told himself emphatically.

Getting off the couch, he fumbled about for his wand.

"What are you doing?"

Startled, he looked up. Sirius was looking groggily at him.

"Come back here."

"It's cold… I thought I'd cast a Warming Charm…"

"There are other ways to ward off the cold," said Sirius smirking. However, the effect was slightly ruined as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

Remus abandoned his search and reached up to kiss him.

"The bed this time – or I'll end up with more painful muscles than I care to have."

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When he returned to the Black House, his temper only got worse to see Sirius drinking again.

"What the hell are you doing?" he snapped, wrenching the glass from his lover's hand.

Sirius stared bemusedly at him for full two minutes before muttering something inaudible.

Remus caught his shoulders in a vice-like grip and shook him hard. "What the hell has gotten into you? Why do you keep trying to kill yourself? Don't you care for me? Harry? Don't you even think about Harry? What would he say if he knew his godfather was a wallowing wimp?"

"A what?" asked Sirius, trying to draw his brows together in a frown.

"Coward."

Sirius sighed and looked as he was about to say something. He even opened his mouth, but just let it close after a brief yawn, and resting his head against the table, fell asleep.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"I feel so useless – so empty, so… so dead…"

"Try taking a bath," said Remus callously while drying his hair.

"What has gotten into you? What happened? Try talking about it rather than trying to bite my head off at every other word," said Sirius, rummaging in his bureau for more Hangover Remedy.

"Greyback," spat out Remus and sat down on the bed with his head in his hands.

Sirius turned his bloodshot eyes towards him.

"You confronted him?"

"No," said Remus bitterly, "but I was left to see the pain and misery he left in his wake… he turned no less than ten small kids into werewolves two nights ago. I… I visited them… but the usual happened…"

Sirius abandoned his search and walked over to him.

"They find it hard to trust a werewolf…"

"They bloody acted as if I was going to bite them all! Screamed and yelled and threw hexes and what-not! I don't know why I even try to help – it is not as if I accomplish much."

Sirius shut his eyes tightly for a moment as he felt his headache return with a vengeance.

Deciding to ignore it for now, he sat down next to Remus and wrapped his arms around him.

"I don't know what kind of tough you are facing, love, but I am there."

Remus stiffened as he heard his words. Turning his head slightly, he saw Sirius valiantly keeping his eyes open and even managing a half-smile, though it did look pretty forced… as if he was hiding the fact that he was feeling queasy or something.

Sighing, Remus disentangled himself from Sirius and told him to lie down.

"I'll ask Kreature for Hangover Remedy," he said softly and went out.

Immensely grateful, Sirius snuggled inside the bedcovers. He was deep in sleep when Remus returned. With a small smile, the latter got in the bed, cuddling close to him.

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To Be Continued…

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