Remus has been gone for two and a half weeks and Sirius is itchy and restless.
The Order buzzes in and out of the house as the days tick by, because it's business as usual—for them, at least. Sirius wants to be angry that nobody else seems worried about the man's wellbeing; he wants to grab them and shake them and ask them how they can sip tea and bicker like Remus isn't out there risking his life. But really, he concludes, they're all putting their lives on the line just by existing within their secret society. All except for him, the mangy, sidelined mutt on house arrest.
He catches the others staring at him sometimes, when he's zoned out and missed the past three questions that have been directed his way during a meeting. Molly looks at him with pity, and he chews on the word and gulps it down in shame. Tonks looks at him like she's trying to figure him out, and he has to bite back the urge to tell her to fuck off. She's done nothing wrong, but she serves as yet another reminder of his problems and the reality of what will never be.
Three weeks into his absence is when Sirius reaches his breaking point. Tonks bustles into a meeting, waving around a ruddy bit of parchment. She quickly glances over at Sirius before she announces that Remus has sent word. The letter includes a handful of instructions for various members of the Order to carry out, time sensitive matters and such. Sirius is hardly listening, though, because he's too busy fuming over the fact that the damned owl wasn't sent to him. He knows that, realistically, it would have been far too dangerous to draw any bit of attention to an escaped convict, but honestly—when have they ever played by the rules?
Sirius is on edge as everyone shuffles out of the house shortly after, and he ignores the concerned look that Molly gives him. He shakes her off and stalks upstairs with a terrible idea brewing in his wake.
The reflection staring back at him in the mirror is unfamiliar as Sirius gives himself a onceover. Good enough, he thinks, as he shrugs on his leather jacket. He's cast a glamouring charm on himself; it's a difficult spell but he figures he might as well make some use of the rotten, pure-blood magic that's pumping through his veins. He used to be ashamed of the power that the Black family wielded, but with age he's taken a fond liking to the thought of Walburga rolling over in her grave at the thought of him using their magic for things she would vehemently disapprove of.
The spell requires discretion, as it's not entirely foolproof, but Sirius still feels confident enough to stroll out under the light of the moon to the seedy muggle dive bar at the edge of town. He breathes in the damp, fresh air as his boots gently scrape on the sidewalk beneath him. It's funny, really, how he went from one prison to another. Some days, when he's feeling particularly masochistic, he thinks he would prefer the dementors. At least those fuckers wanted to kiss him.
The bar reeks of stale beer and bad decisions, and Sirius makes himself at home. At least here, he doesn't need to pretend to be something that he's not. This place is full of anger, misery, and regret; he fits right in.
After chasing down a few drinks, his head begins to swim and he relaxes. A mildly handsome bloke with an otherwise forgettable face has come to sit beside him, and Sirius is almost embarrassed by how eagerly his body responds when the man eventually rests a hand on his thigh. He is touch-starved, and his body is aching with a painful, resounding loneliness. He will never be good enough for Remus—he never was. He doesn't blame him, but it's ultimately the reason why he stands up and tugs the stranger along behind him.
And that is how Sirius Black finds himself pressed up against a wall in the dingy back alley of the bar with a muggle bloke's tongue roughly shoved down his throat. He's so desperate to forget. The man runs his hands down Sirius' sides, stopping at his waist to grip him tight and pull him closer. His head is spinning and he fights the urge to flee. A hand begins snake down to the juncture between his legs and Sirius has to choke back the name that almost spills from his mouth, "Re—"
He shoves the man off of him and stumbles away.
Sirius wakes up the next morning, in his own bed this time, and he feels dirty.
He's not sure how long he lays there staring at the ceiling, his head aching and his heart sinking as he recounts his evening, but he's eventually shaken from his stupor by the sound of the front door creaking open. Before he knows what he's doing, he races down the steps, two at a time, until he's standing in the entry hall gasping for breath and facing an exhausted-looking Remus. They stand there just staring at each other for a moment, awkwardly, and Sirius scrambles for words as he realizes that he's just come to greet him at the door like a damn dog (and the irony is not lost on him).
"Ah, well then...welcome home, Moony," Sirius says, as he scratches the back of his head sheepishly.
Remus takes a few steps forward, so that they're almost toe to toe, and opens his mouth to say something—but his expression quickly morphs into a frown. He sniffs the air once, deeply, and Sirius has to fight the urge to shiver as something dark and primal glints in his eyes. They're only a few days out from the full moon now, and the wolf is probably lazily stretching inside of Remus while it waits for its monthly turn to run, which means that Remus' senses are... heightened.
Remus' voice is dangerously low when he finally speaks. "You've left the house."
Sirius shrugs as he attempts to appear unaffected by the other man's reaction. "I was bored. Can't keep a dog caged up indefinitely, you know. Some would call it cruel," he responds, enunciating the last word and flippantly waving his hand in the air.
Remus' eyes flash amber for just a moment, and he nearly snarls as he roughly shoves Sirius against the wall and snaps, "How could you be so goddamn careless, Sirius?"
Sirius fights to keep his voice steady as he retorts, "Why should you care?" He knows how childish it sounds, but he doesn't waver.
Remus drops his head with a resigned sigh, leaning in close to Sirius' neck. He inhales deeply and then tenses up, his grip on Sirius' shoulders tightening once more. He pulls back and drops one hand, as he brings the other to cup Sirius' chin. He stares at him with narrowed eyes. "You're...covered in someone's scent, I can smell him all over you."
Swatting his hand away, Sirius looks at him and says challengingly, "Don't see why that's any of your business, mate."
Remus closes his eyes and nods, seemingly in agreement, but then he leans in again to whisper cooly against the outer shell of his ear, "You have always been my business, Padfoot. We've both just been too fucking stupid to admit it."
And he's kissing him.
Remus Lupin is kissing him.
It starts off tentatively, their noses brush softly and Remus captures Sirius' top lip between his own. He pulls away and Sirius wants to sigh from the loss of contact already. Remus licks his lips and looks into the gray eyes that are staring back at him—waiting.
Sirius blinks slowly, and then presses his lips to the corner of Remus' mouth. Before he can continue, Remus captures his lips in a bruising kiss, pressing him against the wall once more, and Sirius fists a hand in the front of the man's jumper to steady himself as his knees begin to go weak. Remus chuckles softly against his lips as Sirius' body responds to his like a moth to a flame, like a dried up valley after a long-awaited storm. It takes a moment, but Sirius quickly collects himself and kisses him back with fervor; he sucks and nibbles at Remus' bottom lip until he elicits a soft, breathy moan from him.
Remus deepens the kiss as he smoothly threads a hand through his hair, allowing Sirius to explore him further with his tongue. He tastes moonlight and shadows; he tastes all the things they've left unsaid; he tastes home.
Breaking the kiss slightly, Remus runs his tongue along Sirius' bottom lip in a sensual manner. Sirius grabs him by the hips and swiftly switches their positions, pinning him up against the wall. He holds his wrists up firmly against the peeling wallpaper as he kisses his way up and down Remus' exposed neck, giving extra attention to the soft white scars hidden just beneath his collar.
A low growl escapes from Remus as he firmly slots a leg in the space between Sirius' thighs and presses against him. He hungrily brings their mouths back together, caressing Sirius' lips with his own. Sirius pulls back after a moment, leaning against Remus' collarbone and breathing heavily. After catching his breath, he glances back up at Remus with an unsaid question written across his face; Remus smiles.
Sirius threads a hand with his and they stumble up the steps and into Remus' room. He walks him in backwards, as Remus pauses to glance around the room for a moment and smirks. Pushing Sirius back down onto the bed, he crawls on top of him and whispers into his ear in a tone laced with arousal, "You've been in here...you've been sleeping in my bed."
A thrill shoots up Sirius' spine as he nuzzles into Remus' neck and murmurs playfully, "Mmm. And...I sleep naked."
Remus chokes, and Sirius grins in satisfaction. He soon loses the upper hand, through, as Remus pulls away and shifts his attention to where Sirius' shirt has ridden up, exposing a strip of his stomach and the contour of his right hip bone. He presses a wet, hot kiss to it and Sirius shudders as he thrusts his hands into Remus' hair.
Remus seems to deflate suddenly; he looks back up at him and quietly says, "We've wasted so much time, haven't we, Pads?"
Sirius tugs Remus up to lay beside him, and rolls onto his side. "Azkaban would have been too painful, knowing that that you wanted this, too."
Remus sighs, gently running a finger along the stubble on Sirius' chin. "I spent more full moons than I'd like to admit trying to goad the wolf to end it, after you were gone."
Sirius grabs his hand and holds it tightly, staring determinedly into his eyes as he says, with conviction, "Well, we have now. We will always have now."
He leans in and kisses him; he kisses the small wet spot that has trailed from the corner of Remus' eye, and he kisses the downturned corner of his mouth until he's nudged it back into a smile. Remus gently brushes his thumb over Sirius' bottom lip, and then kisses him again until they're both panting and breathless.
Remus slides down so that his face is near Sirius' thighs, and then begins kissing his way up his clothed body. He pushes up the hem of Sirius' shirt once more when he reaches his stomach, leaving a hot and wet trail along the waistline of his trousers. He pulls the shirt off with him as he continues, ghosting his fingers over his now-bare chest; Sirius has to suppress the elicit sound that's on the tip of his tongue.
He swiftly avoids Sirius' waiting lips as he reaches them, and instead kisses down his jawline and along his neck. He begins to suck on the pressure point below Sirius' ear, and Sirius reaches up to tangle his hands in Remus' hair as he lifts his body slightly to brush it again Remus'. Remus shudders at the contact, and drags his lips back along his cheek and finally kisses him again. Sirius quickly tugs off Remus' shirt as well, and ducks down to plant kisses across his chest.
Remus boldly runs a hand down Sirius' body, stopping to rest over the aching bulge in his trousers. He palms it as he claims Sirius' neck once more, biting down and sucking hard enough to leave a mark. Sirius bucks up into Remus' hand, and then grasps Remus' hips and roughly pulls him down closer. He's shamelessly rutting against him at this point, and Remus is panting hard. With a growl, Remus pulls back and they scramble to shuck off the remainder of their clothing.
Their bodies are burning hot as their bare skin finally touches, and they slot against one another, slick and wet. Remus whispers in Sirius' ear teasingly as he rubs against him, "Do you know how long I've wanted this?"
Sirius whimpers in response, aching with need, "Please, Remus."
Remus doesn't hesitate.
The sheets are damp and sticky in places when they've finished, but Sirius can't bring himself to care as he rests his head on Remus' chest. He listens to the rise and fall of his breathing as Remus cards a hand through his hair. Remus kisses the top of his head, and Sirius is overcome with emotion as the heavy weight in his chest finally crumbles to dust.
At the next Order meeting, Sirius does not hesitate to shuffle over from his usual place at the head of the table to sit beside Remus. Nobody comments on it, but Molly glances at them and smiles warmly. Remus reaches for Sirius' hand under the table, lacing their fingers together and resting them on his thigh.
Remus tethers him down and reminds him that there's still hope to be found in the corners of the darkness that lies ahead; reminds him that this dusty, decaying house may never really be his home, but Remus always will be.