What I Need 6?
It's Christmas break. The past few months have gone by in a blur. Harry and I manage to meet every so often, and Remus spends a good deal of time either in my rooms or off around Hogsmeade. I'd be insanely happy if it wasn't so…not me. And if I wasn't worried.
Harry is staying for Christmas, which is something that I'm delighted by. We'll be able to spend more time together. I've relaxed, I realize. I no longer feel the urge to wrap my arms around him and snarl "mine" to the world, or want to snatch him away from everyone. Jealous? No. I have no need to be. After all, he loves me. I feel a smile spreading across my face and am quite thankful that there's no one around to see it. Yes, Harry and I are fine. Remus is another issue entirely.
So far, he has no new bruises, and I thank the stars that either Black has stopped hurting him, or Remus stood up and defended himself. The situation still isn't better though. Remus is unhappy, and finds ways to spend as much time away from Black as possible. Currently, he's shopping in Hogsmeade. I know, because he invited me along. Sirius is…somewhere. Where, exactly, I'm not sure, and I don't really care. He hasn't been happy recently either, and he's been spending quite a bit of time in Dumbledore's company. Hopefully the headmaster is helping him deal with whatever troubles he has that are making him act this way towards Remus. Perhaps I'm simply being sentimental (I blame it all on Harry, the little git) but I'd like to see Remus happy. And though I still loathe Black, if he's what it takes to make him happy, then I can learn to live with that. So, inept as I am with human emotions, I will try my best to help Remus get what he wants.
I glance up from my musings at a knock on the door, surprised. Harry doesn't knock. He knows he doesn't have to. Remus is in Hogsmeade. Albus?
"Yes?" I watch the door curiously, but as it opens, I'm still completely startled. The last person I ever expected to see at my door is standing there, and looking awful.
"May I come in?" Sirius Black asks, watching me tiredly.
"If you wish." I keep my voice neutral, but I can feel my back tensing. What is it about him that bothers me so? Perhaps the fact that he tried to kill me, I think wryly.
He quietly closes the door and sits in one of the spare chairs. "Severus…" he sounds hesitant, and watches me nervously. "I realize…we're not friends-"
I can't stop the derisive snort at his comment and he sighs.
"Okay, so we loathe each other. Still, I…I need your help." He looks up at me with quiet desperation, and I'm a bit shocked.
"This has to do with Remus, doesn't it?"
He nods. "I'm afraid…afraid that I've lost him." The pain in that simple statement proves that Remus is correct. Black does love him. I hope.
However, I cannot resist playing devil's advocate in this. "Why should I help you? It seems to me that he'd be better off without you."
He sighs. "Please. I love him. I need him." He's not bothering to hide his feelings from me. "I haven't treated him like I should, and…I'm afraid I realized it too late."
I dig a bit, wanting him to feel the pain he put his lover through. "No, I suppose forcing him and making him fear you doesn't exactly constitute treating him well."
He looks down, flushing in shame. Perhaps he has grown up a bit. His conscience certainly has. "I know," he says quietly. "When he left after…after that, I realized what I'd done, and I thought I'd lost him right then. Sometimes I see him, and I think it's just another cruel dream, that at any moment I'll wake up to find myself back in my cell in Azkaban. Then when he was spending so much time with you, I …I went a little crazy." He looks guilty. "He was my love, not yours. So I..I…"
"You wanted to prove to him that he was yours," I say coldly.
He nods miserably. "Thinking back on it, I know how wrong I was to even think like that. I don't own him. He is…was with me by choice. And now I've lost him," He finishes in a small, despondent voice.
I sigh a bit. Well, I did want to help Remus. However, suddenly having Black pour his heart out to me is more than a little strange. "Just how do you expect me to help you? I'm still not sure you won't hurt him again. I don't trust you, Black, and I never have."
"I'd rather cut my heart out than hurt him again!"
I blink. The vehemence in that statement was also a bit of a shock, not too mention something I can relate to. I've thought that to myself more than once. "So you're learned your lesson, is that what you're telling me? You're not going to make another stupid mistake and "accidentally" hurt him again? You never learned that fast in the past." He bristles at my tone and I smile, mockingly. "Because," and now I let my anger creep into my voice, "if you so much as lay a finger on him in anger again, I will personally see that you suffer for it."
He nods, seeming unsurprised at my threat. "I swear, Severus. I can't live without him. He's…all that's left of me."
With a sigh I relent, though I think I must be crazy for doing so. "I'll talk to him then. You'll have to apologize on your own though."
He gives me a relieved smile. "Thank you."
I nod to him and he stand, nodding back, then leaving me alone again. Is this right? I can't bring myself trust him, no matter what he says, but it is Remus's choice, and I will tell him.
The sound of the door closing brings my attention back to the present, and I look up to see my love standing there, smiling. The worry fades as I smile back at him and hold my arms out.
He comes to me, and cuddles close on my lap, still grinning. "I didn't mean to disturb you."
I close my eyes, glad to have him close. "You didn't. You never do. You know you're always welcome here."
"Mm." He traces the curve of my jaw with a light finger and I smile again. "What were you thinking about?"
"Your godfather was just here." I open my eyes to see his reaction. He knows about Remus and Sirius. You should have seen him when he found out. I thought he was going to kill Sirius.
"Augh, Sev, if he was yelling at you because we're together again, just ignore him." He rolls his eyes in annoyance. He's so cute when he's irritated, something that I freely admit leads me to tease him as often as I can. "Honestly, I know what I'm doing. I'm hardly a child anymore."
I lean up and kiss him, feeling him respond, his hand sliding into my hair. Smiling, I pull back, much to his dismay. "Actually, he came to ask for my help."
He blinks. "Your..help?"
"I was surprised too." I rest my head on his shoulder, and he leans his down against mine.
"He wants Remus back, doesn't he," he says quietly.
"Yes. Should I help? I told him I would, but.." I trail off, shrugging eloquently. I have no qualms about not telling Remus, which is something that separates my lover and I. If he said he would do something, he would do it, or die trying.
He calmly ignores this difference in our personalities. He's learned that that's just the way I am, and that it doesn't usually apply to him. He's the person I will keep a promise to, no matter what. "He hasn't been the same since Remus left. I think he can change." I smile. If Harry believes it, hopefully it will happen. "If he doesn't," and he scowls, "I'm not going to let him get by with it."
That brings a smile to my face again. No, he wouldn't. He truly is a Gryffindor, always getting worked up about what is right, even if right doesn't mean following the rules. Thinking, however, is getting a bit difficult. His body is warm against mind, and I find that, as always, the feel of him leaves me wanting more. He's not wearing his robe, for which I'm grateful, even though his muggle clothing is ridiculously huge for him. I should take him shopping. I cringe away from that thought. Shopping? I hate shopping. I run my hand up his thigh to rest on his hip, wanting to see all of him. Though seeing him in well fitting clothing would be…nice.
He twists on my lap, oblivious to my thoughts, and smiles. "Shall we go to bed, love?" His voice drops into a little sultry purr, turning the word bed into a lovely little insinuating word.
"You really do have strange mental powers you're not telling me about, don't you," I say dryly.
He laughs. "Mm, but of course." And then he attempts to look evil, and I find myself laughing. "I can read your mind!" He waggles his fingers at me and I bat his hands out of the way to lean in and kiss him. His lips are pliant against mine, and he worries at my lower lip slightly with his teeth.
I slide a hand up his back to bury it in his soft hair, and he pulls back, a teasing grin on his face.
"Not in the chair. That was supremely uncomfortable." He slips from my lap before I can object, and backs into the bedroom, grinning at me the whole way. Little git, I think, watching him, trying to keep an aloof expression on my face. His grin widens and he tugs off that ridiculously huge shirt. Oh, now that's not fair, I think. He is beautiful, slender, and marvelously in shape from playing Quidditch. The candlelight turns his skin to silk and gold, and I struggle not to give up the game right then and there and go to him, pulling away the rest of the clothing hiding him from my eyes.
Seeing the wicked gleam in his eyes, I realize he knows exactly what effect he's having on me. Rising, I move into the bedroom as well and as nonchalantly as possible ready myself for bed. I've lost already and I know it, but it's still fun to play out this game to it's finish. I slide into bed, settling back against the pillows, ankles crossed in an attempt to hide my body's reaction to his. He's grinning, recognizing his victory.
"Mm." He makes a soft noise, then - far too slowly for my taste – peels the baggy jeans from his body, leaving just a pair of slightly ratty looking red plaid boxers.
I can't resist a smirk at that. Plaid. I change my mind. We definitely have to go shopping. As I watch, he climbs onto the bed, then crawls up the path my legs make until he's straddling my lap. I arch an eyebrow at him, and keep my hands on my lap, though I desperately want to run them over that silken skin.
"Was there something you wanted?" I applaud myself for managing to keep my voice dry and calm, betraying no hint of just how much I want him right at that moment.
He merely smirks, an act which makes me blink in surprise, and lowers his head to kiss the hollow of my collarbone. I quiver under him, closing my eyes and pleading mentally for control as his tounge flicks out, tracing the outline of it. His hands stroke my chest ever so lightly, fingers exploring my body with feathery touches that drive me wild. I shiver again, biting back a soft moan. He continues this light exploration, his lips trailing over my collarbone, then down in a fiery path to fasten over one peaked nipple. I can't fight back the little gasping moan I give at that. He is so good with his mouth, knowing just how to use it to bring the most pleasure, no matter where. And he seems to love it. He says he loves the taste of my skin. I am not objecting.
His hips rock against mine as he suckles lightly, teasing the little nub of flesh with his teeth, my little moans only encouraging him further. I lose the battle to resist him and bury my hands in his hair again, arching to that talented mouth.
"God, Harry…" I gasp. He could do this all night, I know. He's tried before. I usually lose patience with him after a bit though. I can only take so much of this incredible teasing before I have to have him. I loose my fingers from his hair and let them trail over his soft skin, stroking his sides.
He makes this lovely mewling sound and arches to my hands, his mouth trailing across my chest to tease and lick at the other nipple. I moan softly again, sliding both hands down into his boxers to pull his hips against mine. He grinds against me in response, eliciting a groan from both of us. This is so good, so sinful.
With a soft wet sound, he pulls his mouth away from my skin and I shudder at the loss. He looks up at me, face flushed, lips swollen, eyes dark with desire. "Sev," he moans softly, obviously wanting me as much as I want him. "Please…"
No more needs to be said. I pull him down to one side of me, rolling to cover him with my body, my hands still on his hips. As I kiss him, I can feel his hands trailing down to the waistband of my boxers, tugging at them, trying to pull them off. He's impatient tonight, which suits me just fine. We will have time for all kinds of loving throughout our lives. Now, we will go with the moment, following our instincts. I kneel to tug off his boxers, leaving him naked on the sheets. I pause then to look down at him, my breath catching in my throat at the sheer beauty of the being sprawled out wantonly before me. Moments like these leave me wondering what on earth I did to deserve being with him. He reaches for me, hands finding my boxers and tugging at them, wanting me as naked as he is and I comply, slipping out of them. His hands pull me down to where I was, resting between his legs and we both moan softly, hips rubbing together. His mouth fastens on the tender skin just below my ear, and I trail my hands down his sides, stroking and teasing, hips rubbing slowly against his.
"S-sev…" His breath hitches in his throat as he moans at me. "Don't tease…please….just take me."
I groan softly. How can I say no to that? I fumble at the bedside table, finding the jar of oil by touch alone as I bury my face against his shoulder, nuzzling and kissing the soft skin there. I coat my fingers, then slowly slide my hand down to slide them into him slowly. The low throaty moan I get drives me crazy. I want him, and I don't want to wait.
"Oh Harry," I whisper against his neck, slowly thrusting my fingers in, making sure to brush over his sweet spot as I do. The sounds he makes are heady, like a rich red wine, sending tremors through my system. As his body arches under my touch, his legs sprawling out on the bed, hips pressing up as if he's trying to get more, I lose myself in just feeling, wanting this to never end.
His fingers tangle in my hair, pulling, almost hard enough to hurt. "God, Sev, now! Please…" He's panting lightly, skin flushed with pleasure, and I give in, removing my fingers and pushing into him slowly. He's silk and velvet, and incredible heat, and I moan, burying my face against his neck. It's so perfect, the way we fit, like two halves of a whole linking together. Our movements are slow, gentle, rocking out, and then back in, sweet and loving. The moments are heady and timeless, but I can feel the pressure growing, and know that it will end all too soon.
"S-sev," he pants, writhing beneath me, liquid fire sparking where his skin brushes mine. I slide my hand down to wrap around him, stroking the velvety skin, urging him to give in as I rock slowly in and out. He tenses, hips arching up to my touch, then cries my name out, shivering and writhing in ecstasy as his climax sweeps through him. It's too much for me, and I cry out as well, a shudder running through my body as the pleasure explodes through me, rendering me temporarily blind.
As I slowly return to the room, I can feel his heartbeat against my cheek, hear his shallow breathing, as he comes back down as well. His hands stroke my back idly and I smile, carefully pulling out and curling up to one side, wrapping an arm over him. He turns his head to look at me, eyes a brilliant emerald.
"Love you," he murmurs, leaning over to kiss me.
"Love you too," I respond, just before his lips meet mine.
This is where I belong. Here, in his arms, with him in mine, our hearts beating nearly in unison. The love I feel for this boy overwhelms me at times, and I can't help but use all the time we have together to try and tell - or show - him just how much I care. Sleep claims him slowly, his breathing becoming gentler and deeper, and I smile down at him.
"Goodnight, my angel," I say softly, reminded of a muggle song I heard once. "now it's time to sleep…" I trail off, smiling. Gently, I kiss his scar, then curl up around him, letting sleep claim me as well.
TBC