Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be
Dedication: To Helena, who inspired this (and made me laugh like hell too)
A/N: Okay, because won't let me put in dividers such as symbols, I had to change the font. Sirius is in Italics, Remus is not.
Swift At The Neck
He sat on his bed. Occasionally turning pages with a slight sigh each time. This is boredom. There is nothing to do, nothing that can be done. Ah the perils of completing homework on the day it is given! He continued to stare blankly at every page. He was reading, but the information did not penetrate his mind.
Marking his page with only his memory, he stood to use the toilet. As he stood, he stared briefly at all around him. Where is everyone? Where is James? Sirius? Peter Why do they all have things to do, yet he, Remus, has nothing to do?
Sighing once more, he turned from facing the majority of the room and span on his heel to the large, wooden door situated by his bed. He did not hear the main door open and close, nor feel the slight warmth of a teenage boy behind him.
He was in the rain. Whenever there was rain, Sirius was known to go outside and… dance. It was something that always appealed to him as a child, but was never allowed to indulge in. He twirled in his happiness, and revelled in his smallest of rebellions against his parents.
When he was in the rain, he thought, like many do in the shower. What did he think of that day? Remus of course. How to attain such a beauty, such an enigma, such a… werewolf? The grace he had, the unknown beauty, the indescribable pain.
The sheer sexiness.
How to seduce? Simply to grab, to hold, and never let go of course. But how to do so? How to… gain such courage?
He'd think of that later. For now, he was going to go up to his dormitory, find Remus, and convince him to let himself be grabbed, held, and never let go.
There was a presence behind him. He knew. He could feel the erratic in-and-out of breath. The fidgeting of hands.
"Sirius." He whispered.
"Remus," was whispered back. Remus felt the moisture of the boy behind him.
"It's raining." He stated, leaning back slightly to that touch.
"Mmm. Remus, please forgive me for what I'm about to do…" Sirius was at his neck, as though about to kiss. Remus hoped he would.
Before he knew much else, Sirius was up in Gryffindor Tower. He strode to his dormitory door and opened it almost silently. He brought himself to just behind Remus.
"Sirius." Remus had whispered. There was a slight huskiness to his voice that gave Sirius his courage.
"Remus," Sirius whispered back. He needed a final push, a final sign from whatever deity that this was what he had to do.
"It's raining." Remus stated. He leaned back into Sirius, his golden hair trying to climb up his nose. That was possibly the best sign he could have hoped for.
"Mmm. Remus, please forgive me for what I'm about to do…" With those few words, he pulled himself to Remus' neck, planting tiny kisses across the jaw. He worked his way up, around to the ear and then slightly diagonal to the lower lip, which he sucked. Slowly. He was grabbing, holding, and hoping he wouldn't have to let go.
Remus was in heaven. Sirius was kissing him, and he had something to break the boredom of the day.
Finally.
Okay, I know this is about 20 clichés all rolled into one massive ball. And I know that Remus sounds like a right twat at the end there. And I know I shouldn't begin sentences on 'and'. Ah well.