The Comfort of Knowledge, Chapter 18
"Stay with me tomorrow," he heard Sirius say quietly. "Please."
He waited for his pulse to slow down before he lifted his head from where it rested against the hard, broad chest. They were both beginning to shiver in their wet robes but, unlike Remus, the black-haired boy did not seem to notice.
Gray eyes were fixed on Remus' face as the boy waited anxiously for a response to his question.
"Please," Sirius whispered again.
Remus felt a sharp tug on the sleeve of his robe and turned to find a familiar face watching him with amusement.
"You know, Remus … Binns will be heartbroken to learn that his biggest fan – and only, I daresay – has finally joined the mass of daydreaming students that occupies almost every other one of his lectures."
Shaking his head to clear it of the shameful – and thoroughly arousing – memories, Remus' eyes widened to see his classmates already filing rapidly out of the stuffy classroom.
How long had he been lost in thought?
Remus quickly began packing up his books, trying ineffectively to ignore the way Terry's eyes sparkled with mirth as they watched him.
"Professor Binns could not name a single one of his students," he replied finally. "As you well know."
The two boys turned simultaneously to watch their professor distractedly erase the blackboard, scratching his head and mumbling softly to himself as he did so.
"Yes, well...if he knew you existed he would be very disappointed to know your thoughts were elsewhere today."
After exchanging amused glances, the two boys followed the throng of students filing out of the old, dusty classroom and out into the crowded hallways.
It had been a rather long day and despite Remus' uncommon – yet genuine – appreciation for History of Magic, he was still finding it difficult to concentrate on anything but the night of his last transformation.
Two days ago, he reminded himself.
If the memory had not lingered so clearly in his mind he might have thought it nothing more than a dream.
With shame, he realized he was absently scanning the corridors again in an attempt to avoid encountering any sixth year Gryffindors.
Well. One sixth year Gryffindor…
After he caught several glimpses of black hair out of the corner of his eye – all of them causing his heart to skip a beat and his face to heat up – he figured it would be safest to keep his eyes glued to the ground for the rest of the day.
Summer, he decided, could not come quickly enough.
Remus shivered again and closed his eyes.
His forehead was resting against Sirius' and the boy's gentle hands were holding his head in place, thumbs lightly stroking Remus' cheekbones.
"Come up to the sixth year dorms tomorrow," the boy breathed. "James and Peter will be gone. I can look after you…"
Remus still felt the lingering desire to touch the other boy (in the same way Sirius had touched him) but with the wolf satiated – however temporarily – he was able to obey the part of his mind that told him he should keep his hands to himself.
"I won't –," Sirius faltered. "I mean if you think this is about – that I'm trying to – that I only want –"
Remus wondered if anybody had ever heard the dark-haired sixth year sound so inarticulate.
The sight of the other boy – uncharacteristically awkward – made Remus' heart race again.
He captured Sirius' parted lips again before he could stop himself.
The sharp, echoing sound of a door being slammed pulled Remus from his thoughts again.
He blinked rapidly and took in the hushed whispers around him with bewilderment.
He had somehow managed to seat himself next to Terry at the Ravenclaw table and although he was rather proud of himself for managing that, he also felt slightly irritated that he had not been paying more attention to what was going on around him.
He glanced up from his place by Terry's side to scan the Great Hall. He wondered what – or who – they were all talking about.
When his golden eyes finally landed on the Gryffindor table, he was startled to find hazel eyes staring unblinkingly at him from across the hall.
James Potter?
He could not ignore the thoughts that flooded into his mind at receiving the bespectacled boy's attention.
He had pinned that boy's best friend to the ground and shamelessly groped him while mud soaked through their clothing. He had hungrily tasted the mouth and gulped in the intoxicating scent of the older boy until his orgasm washed over him. Over them.
And he wanted to do it again.
Remus flushed and turned away, reaching quietly for a glass of water and trying his hardest not to think about what the boy's look meant.
"What do you think, Remus?"
"Hm?" he murmured, turning his attention to Terry and swallowing a rather large gulp of cold water that he hoped might cool his face down a bit.
"Still daydreaming?" Terry smiled. "They were talking about Black. He knocked his chair over and nearly split it in two a minute ago. Either he has somewhere to be or someone to avoid. Personally, I'm more inclined to believe the latter. Although in all honesty, I can't say I care that much."
Remus' mind immediately filled with more unwanted thoughts.
What was wrong with Sirius?
He wished he could convince himself that he did not know the answer to that question. With his stomach clenched tightly in regret, Remus' thoughts turned once more to their last encounter.
"Sirius," he whispered against the boy's red, swollen lips. "I have to go."
The panting boy below him did not respond but between the expression on his face and the firm grip he had on Remus' narrow hips, Remus was fairly certain that the boy was not ready to let him go.
Pushing aside the lingering desire he felt, Remus gently removed the boy's hands from his hips and rose gracefully to his feet. After grabbing the nearest mud covered stick he could find, he stood for a moment with his back to the other boy.
He felt a sudden and irrational burst of fear course through him at the thought of walking away from Sirius.
While he was off lurking in the darkness of the Shrieking Shack – vicious and bloodthirsty – who else would receive Sirius' attention? Someone better? Someone purer? The thought was not far off pathetic but that did not stop it from settling in the back of his mind. He could not shake the feeling of unease at the thought of losing the older boy's attentions.
"I'll come," he said quietly.
His transformation had not been any more painful or violent than it normally was.
Yet when Remus awoke, cold and alone on the hardwood floor the following morning, he somehow felt more dejected than he usually did.
The memory of his irrepressible desire – of the hard body that he had pinned below his own – did not fill him with pleasure or excitement.
He was ashamed.
Tension quickly weaved its way into his already sore muscles and when Madam Pomfrey had arrived, insisting that he remain in the hospital wing overnight to recover, he could not bring himself to argue.
How could he face Sirius?
He did not think the older boy understood the extent of the desire Remus had felt for him in those moments leading up to his transformation. He could not remember wanting something – someone – so much.
Remus sighed in frustration and tugged roughly at the tie around his neck. He released the top two buttons of his white collared shirt as he walked amidst the crowd of students retiring to their common rooms for the night.
Avoiding Sirius was proving to be more difficult than he had expected – made even harder by the fact that he wished he did not have to avoid him at all.
His mind lingered on thoughts of the boy – his hard body, his soft touches, his sweet words – and Remus wished more than ever that he had been brave enough to turn up at Sirius' dorm the night following his transformation.
Remus shook his head and sped up his pace, no longer noticing the various students that passed by.
Terry had invited him to study for the evening and although it had been undeniably tempting, Remus was still weak and tired from his transformation. He did not have the energy to pore over books all night in an attempt to avoid Sirius. He just wanted to rest and forget everything for awhile.
He rounded a corner sharply and ascended another set of stairs at a quicker pace.
He needed to stop thinking about Sirius. The guilt had already settled in the pit of his stomach and, short of facing the older boy, there was not much more he could do to relieve the ache of regret he felt.
What would he say to him anyway?
Did he have to say anything at all? Could they not just go back to kissing and touching?
Utterly distracted by the images that question conjured, Remus scarcely took his first step on the third floor landing before he felt large hands close around his upper arms and yank him backward through the nearest open doorway.
Remus barely managed to take in the filthy state of the small, cramped classroom he'd been pulled into before the tall figure shoved him roughly across it. He stumbled over a chair and caught himself on the edge of one of the desks, turning in time to see the last sliver of light disappear behind the closing door. He could only vaguely make out the sinister figure hovering by the entrance.
After a few moments the scent of the boy wafted across the room and hit Remus' nose. He struggled not to stumble back further into the darkened space.
Instead, he exhaled sharply and turned away from the shadow.
"Not now," he said quietly.
He heard the figure take a few steps closer to him.
"I've been patient, Remus."
Remus' hands were shaking ever so slightly. He felt weak– as if he hadn't slept or eaten for hours and suddenly his body was demanding both rest and food at once.
"Not now," he said again. He could hear the note of pleading in his own voice and he clenched his fists by his side in an attempt to still their movement.
"Not now?" The dangerous voice mocked. "I hope you don't think I've kept quiet because I care about you, Lupin."
He needed to lie down for a little while – he would handle all of this when he woke up. He just needed a clear head to think.
The figure stepped closer and Remus' eyes could just make out the sharp, thin outline of the boy's form.
I could get past him, Remus thought. I could get past him if I didn't feel so bloody tired.
"How much do you value your life here, Lupin? Hm? Your education? Your safety? Your friends?"
Remus did not move.
"If I didn't know better I would say you've grown quite attached to one…friend in particular."
Remus clenched his jaw shut. He wanted to get out of there.
"Has he met your father, Remus?"
The boy paused for a moment before stepping closer to whisper in Remus' ear.
"Would he like to?" he breathed.
Remus gave a great shove and tried to step around the taller boy but the bruising grip on his upper arm returned almost instantly and the boy thrust him against the wall – hard.
He heard – and felt – his head crack loudly against the hard wood and he sucked in a breath quickly through his still-clenched teeth.
"Maybe I should tell him, hm? Let him in on the big secret…"
Remus struggled against the boy's grip but he felt so damn weak. Sore. Tired.
It was infuriating.
The cold eyes watched him contemptuously for awhile before the boy finally released him to land a vicious blow to his cheek. Remus was thrown back by the force of it.
"Don't ever forget what I know, Lupin…what I can do…"
They stood in silence for several seconds.
Remus refused to respond and he got the impression that the boy was debating whether or not he should hit him again. Within moments, he seemed to make up his mind.
It wasn't until Remus heard the sound of footsteps and the soft clicking noises indicating the opening and closing of the door that he allowed himself to believe the boy had actually left.
Before he could begin to contemplate making his way back to Gryffindor tower, he slid to the floor and closed his eyes.
"Please don't tell him," he whispered to the empty room.
After a moment, he felt tears start to slide down his cheeks and he was suddenly grateful that Shanks had left him alone in the darkness where no one could see.