A/N: Drama, sex, and some cuteness ahead! Let me know how you guys like it. :)
Chapter 5
He missed her. It was as simple as that. After their first night of passion, Hermione had visited him daily, and the Master had even let him leave to visit her. He'd had dinner with her parents, laughed at her dad's bad jokes, and helped her mum bake a pie. And then afterward, in a bedroom just up the stairs, fucked her against the rails of the balcony so hard that she almost toppled over the ledge. Then he'd stay the night, and in the morning, she'd accompany him to the cottage and help with the research. Until his master took his normal nap. Then they'd be back to doing what they'd become so good at doing.
This pattern had only lasted about a week, but it was long enough to let him remember the smell of her hair - floral and fresh, despite the heat. It was long enough to let him remember the feel of her soft lips as she kissed his stubbly cheek. It was long enough to make Remus fall completely and utterly in love with her.
He'd liked her before, yes, but now it was different. That was why he'd broken the terms of his agreement with his best friend. A voice inside Remus's head played back his friend's words - that a girl would never come between them. But Remus dismissed it. For Sirius, he meant just a shag. He didn't love. He didn't factor how love would change the equation, because it was such a novel concept to him. Sure, he loved Remus. He loved Harry and Harry's family. He might even love Hermione. But he wasn't in love with her.
Despite his rationalizing, he still felt guilty. So he decided he would go to his friend and tell him. The sun had disappeared into the hidden depths beyond the forest, and the moon had risen up to replace it. It would only be a few days until the full moon, and Remus felt on edge. Still, he knew he could not use this as an excuse to delay the inevitable. He had to tell his friend before he found out through other channels.
In their crowded lives, there were always other channels.
Remus was drenched in sweat by the time he reached the outer perimeter. And with a POP! he was gone.
The flat was dark when he arrived. It looked like no one had been here since the sun had set, which wasn't too curious since Sirius was often out and about. He didn't like to be truly alone. He didn't mind it if someone was in another room or even down the hall. It was why Hogwarts made him feel so comfortable. But being truly alone in a space was something that took him back to his days of confinement in Azkaban.
When Remus wasn't with him, Sirius liked to socialize with friends, entertain people at pubs, or even read in a cafe. His favorite past time, however, was spending time with his Godson, so Remus assumed that's where his friend was.
Remus flicked on the lights and walked to his bedroom. If he was going to wait, he'd have a shower. It'd been a while since he'd had a nice, cool shower in a nice, cool place. He had stripped off his soaked clothing before he'd even reached his bathroom door, so he was prepared when the jets of water hit his burning skin. It felt marvelous, and despite his intentions in coming here, Remus couldn't help but wish the petite brunette witch was standing under the stream with him.
He could picture her thick curls loosening and sticking to her back, the droplets of water rolling down her collar bone and clinging to the peaks of her breasts. He would risk a possible fall to have her wrap her legs around his waist as he fucked her into the tiles. Those thoughts along with strokes of his hand made the sandy-haired wizard squirt his completion into the drain of the shower with a gruff groan.
He let the water wash away any feelings of shame, and when they were all gone, he stepped out and dried himself off. He summoned a shirt and pair of shorts and dressed quickly. He heard movement when he left his bedroom.
"Sirius?" he called.
Remus didn't get a reply back but walked nonetheless down the hallway to the living room. With a feeling of dread, he half expected to see Hermione naked on the couch again. Luckily it was just his friend.
"Remus," Sirius acknowledged with a coolness to his tone that even a Durmstrang student building an igloo by hand wouldn't miss.
There was none of the expected questions about what he was doing there or how he'd been. There wasn't the normal rib cage crushing hug. There was nothing except the bare minimum acknowledgment that there was someone he knew who was in his flat.
"You've found out about Hermione and me then." Remus shook out his wet hair and sat down on the couch next to Sirius.
"Not from you," Sirius said bluntly.
"D'you want the laundry list of poor excuses I've come up with to justify my actions?" Remus asked, his friend's stony eyes boring into his.
"I expect the usual mix of self-deprecation/degradation/consciousness, and other such hyphenated, nonsensical words. But I'll go ahead and humor you."
Remus's eyes widened. "Ouch. Won't pretend that didn't hurt."
"And I won't pretend this didn't," Sirius admitted. "You're not supposed to lie to me. That isn't part of this bet. Or our friendship. Not anymore. Not after everything."
Everything. It was what Remus and Sirius had lived through. They'd lived through schoolboy cruelty, life-changing discoveries, death, imprisonment, mistrust, paranoia, war, and... everything. Good or bad, they'd promised to be truthful with one another after they'd been reunited. Sirius was honest almost to a fault. Remus, on the other hand, had problems expressing honesty in many situations. But good or bad, he tried to be honest with Sirius. This time, he hadn't been, and it was more malicious than the types of lies that Sirius let him get away with in the past.
"I'm sorry, Sirius," Remus pleaded, looking down at his feet. "I didn't even realize that my actions extended past my own selfish feelings and abused your trust in me. I'm not always good with honesty, and I rationalized not telling you as being unimportant, because she was still with me at the time. I came to tell you now, because I realized it was wrong. Please forgive me."
Remus looked back up at his friend, feeling like shite but fully expecting to be forgiven, like he always was. He expected his friend to envelope him in a hug, kiss him on the side of his head, and wave off his apology.
What Remus surprisingly saw was his best friend staring into the wall, his story grey eyes giving away the murky thoughts that clouded his mind. He was deep in thought, and this made Remus's body start to brim with anxiety. Even when his friend finally looked back toward him, his smile seemed forced. It wasn't fake. It was as if he was trying to convince himself of it as much as his friend.
"Of course I forgive you," Sirius proclaimed, standing up to hug his friend tightly. He patted him twice and let go. "So you've the night off?"
"I have," Remus answered with a smile. "D'you fancy a drink?"
"Always," Sirius answered. "Let me just send a quick letter through fireplace. I had prior engagements."
"Did you," Remus mused, a frown etching itself onto his face. He wanted to ask desperately who with, as he had an idea, but he decided he best not. Sirius didn't specify for a reason. "Alright. I'll get my cloak then."
"Great," Sirius replied, walking to the fireplace where a notepad and quill sat on top of the mantle.
Remus resisted the urge to spy over his friend's shoulder and instead moved to his bedroom to get his cloak, as he stated he would.
Hermione's fireplaced blazed as a letter came through it. She summoned the letter wandlessly and scanned its contents. Sirius had canceled. He didn't say why but apologized.
She felt a slight pang of disappointment. He said he'd be taking her out to a nice dinner, at a Muggle restaurant where no one would look twice at them. Then she assumed they would retreat back to her place and have another round of what they'd done yesterday. Of course, she felt she would have been just as surprised if he hadn't canceled. She'd been blown off in one form another by him countless times. She liked many things about him, but he wasn't reliable (at least for things that weren't important).
She sighed and took off the plum dress she hadn't quite managed to zip up yet and the uncomfortable strapless bra that wrangled her breasts. If she wasn't having dinner with Sirius, she was going to lounge in an oversized shirt, order take-out, and watch television.
Or actually, she was going to wear that silky pink nightgown that felt so wonderful against her skin and made her feel sexy. She didn't need him to feel sexy. She could feel sexy on her own.
When she opened the drawer that held the menus, she recognized the one on top immediately. It was for a Chinese restaurant from which she'd ordered the last time she ate with Remus. It was over Christmas break, and Remus had taken her home after attending a performance of Mahler's 5th by the London Philharmonic. They'd sat around her fireplace, talking about the marvel that was Muggle musicians, despite having to hand-make the best instruments, and not having any kind of help in the form of auto-tuning charms, absolutely blowing magical musicians out of the water. They were better by miles.
Remus had told her about a talented trombonist who was so tired of being the best musician in the Greater English Wizard Philharmonic that he gave up his wand to live and perform among Muggles. Not wanting to disturb their conversation, she'd pulled out her pile of menus and ordered them both dinner. They sat on the floor in front of her coffee table, ate, and talked through the night. Remus had only left when the sun started to peek through the blinds in her windows.
The memory put a smile on her face. She and Remus could talk about anything.
It had only been a few days since she'd seen him last, but she already missed him. The ease with which she could speak to him translated into the ease with which they'd shared their bodies. Everything fit just right. But it definitely wasn't as relaxed as their conversations. Every time had been passionate and hungry.
It wasn't that she'd never seen Remus as a man before. She definitely had, since her school girl days. It was just that it'd always been kept in check, like any other crush. And by the time she became close with him, she'd already had a deep, carnal lust for Sirius, which she still had.
Despite Sirius's insistence that she'd done nothing wrong, she felt dirty about the entire thing. The first time she'd been with Sirius, it had felt great. It was everything she wanted and more. It was better than any dream she'd had, better than any time she'd touched herself to him at night or in the shower.
What had happened with Remus was odd at first. She didn't know what came over her when she saw him in that tub, but once it had happened, she couldn't stop. He was like a drug. He knew exactly where to touch her, and it wasn't just because he was experienced with women. He truly knew her. Their minds and bodies were connected. When they weren't having sex, they were enjoying each other's company. There was no awkwardness or self-consciousness. It was just as it always was, except that toward the end of her trip, her heart started to flutter every time he smiled at her.
Coming back and immediately sleeping with Sirius felt wrong. Sure, it wasn't as if she and Remus had decided to date, but it still felt as though she'd betrayed him and what they had while in France. And although her body burned for Sirius, she was still confused by her guilt afterward. She had hoped that an actual date would help her clarify her feelings.
She didn't expect Sirius to profess feelings of love (nor did she expect Remus to do so), but she figured it would help work out her own feelings. The fact that she wasn't heartbroken maybe did the same.
She bit her fingernail. Maybe when Sirius tried to reschedule, she would pass.
Remus was drunk. He was not tipsy. He was drunk. But Sirius was drunker. They had gone to their usual pub, Saucer's Cup, which was a magical establishment far removed from London's normal wizarding communities. It stood alone in a warehouse on the bank of the Thames. It was a square-shaped building with a courtyard and a designated floo/apparition point. It was guarded with an assortment of charms and spells to keep it hidden from the already ignorant London Muggle population. It was decorated sleekly, the decor matching the exposed brick and beams of the warehouse. The pub food was exceptional, the drinks were fairly priced, and a crowd gathered that was slightly less annoying than the point-and-stare sorts in places like the Leaky Cauldron.
Sirius and he had gone, met up with some old friends, and had drank to their hearts' content, only leaving when Sirius had actually fallen flat on his face while trying to tie his shoes (which did not have laces). Remus, who was not to the point of hallucinating laces on his loafers, had taken it upon himself to bring Sirius home and tuck (push, toss, shove) him into bed. When he closed his friend's door, there was only one thing on his mind - Hermione.
Everything was fair now. He had told the truth, and the game was on. He wanted to get to her flat and shag her. Or at least try to, as he realized there was a chance she'd throw him out at half-two in the morning.
He stumbled to the fireplace and aimed the powder at the flames. Only half of it landed in the intended spot, and he walked in, slurring his destination.
He coughed up a lung by the time her wards granted him access. He saw her standing there, in a silk nightgown, arms crossed, staring at him in confusion.
"Remus?" she asked, cocking her head to the side.
"You're beautiful," he blurted out, his eyes darting from her erect nipples to the hem of the short gown, and then up at her firelit face.
He stumbled forward toward her, aware of how unfair it was to have Sirius cancel his date with her and then show up at her flat instead, but not giving a single shit. He could think of nothing else except her soft skin and thick curls.
So when he felt her arms wrap around him, he felt immense relief. He ducked down to kiss her, or at least he tried. His lips landed on the corner of her mouth, and he used his tongue as a sort of guide to search for her lips. She moved her head to the side away from him but still kept him in her embrace.
"You're drunk," she stated simply. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to see you," he explained desperately. "I missed you."
He looked into her chestnut eyes and saw her already kind expression soften more.
"I've missed you as well," she admitted, a small smile tugging at the slobbered on corner of her lips. "But you're too drunk for any of this, so let's get you to bed."
"Why bed if I'm too drunk?" he asked, genuinely confused.
She laughed heartily. "To sleep this off. The Master's going to be upset if you're still like this come morning."
"Okay," he agreed with a childish sigh.
"Come on," she said, dragging him by the hand to her bedroom.
Her bedroom, Remus thought to himself with a happy smile. Her bedroom, even though she had a guest room.
He'd only been in her bedroom a few times before, but it'd always been innocent for her. She had called him in while she walked to her closet to finishing dressing, or to pick out a handbag or pair of shoes. For him, it involved guessing what was in her bedside table and picturing her tied to her headboard.
Now he was here when she was in just a thin layer of fabric, underneath which lay a heavenly spread to which he'd already become accustomed, and to make matters worse, she moved her adept fingers over his shirt, unbuttoning it and pushing it over his shoulders until it slid down his arms. She caught it before it hit the floor and draped it over her light, wooden dresser.
Even though he knew she was merely getting him ready to sleep, he still caught the way her eyes scanned down his chest, past his scars, and toward his firm abs. Her hands unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his trousers. They were too well fitted to simply fall, and he watched as she struggled to pull them down without bending down to do it.
He felt the alcohol clouding his mind, but even more intensely, he felt the need to focus on her. He pushed down his pants until they slipped past his boxer-briefs, and he sat down on the edge of her bed. She kneeled down in front of him and dragged both legs down. When she moved her hands to either side of him to pull herself up, he grabbed one of her hands and placed it on the growing peak beneath the striped cotton she'd left on.
He saw her pupils dilate and her nostrils flare as her fingers grazed his hardness. He tore his eyes away from the supple mounds he could see thanks to his angle, and instead kept his gaze fixated on hers.
"Remus, we should just sleep," she said softly, her large brown eyes staring passionately at him.
"And we can," he agreed, raising his hips up and pushing down his undergarment. "After."
She let out a huff that was mixed with soft laughter, and then her mouth was on him. Her hands circled around his shaft as she dipped her head down to envelope his head. She moved back and forth, each time taking in more of him, until her hands were on his thighs, and her lips were flush with his torso. He shuddered at the sensation of hitting the back of her throat with his cock as she gagged.
As she pulled out, her eyes met his, and he relished the way the corners of her lips attempted to curve upward, even though her mouth was stretched with his manhood. She was enjoying his reaction, despite her initial hesitation. She repeated the motion, and Remus could smell her wetness.
He grabbed her hair roughly and pulled her off of him. He then stood up, grabbed her by her waist, and placed her on the bed. Her skimpy nightgown had rolled up her thighs and was around her waist, giving him view of matching lace panties that did nothing to hold in the moisture that had leaked onto her thighs.
Remus barely had the patience to get them off before he plunged into the depths of her pussy. She cried out in pleasure as his manhood explored her familiar depths. Remus took her legs and pushed them upward until her legs were over his arms, his short fingernails digging into her thighs. This angle gave him the opportunity to drive up against her special spot - the spot where she purred like a kitten and milked his cock for every last drop of semen he had.
He felt her walls pulse against him, and he bent down to move her gown up above her breasts. Her porcelain skin reflected the moonlight, and the normally pink nubs looked red in the dead of the night. Her eyes were closed, and her lips were parted.
"Are you close, Hermione?" he asked, knowing the answer before she did.
"Yes," she affirmed. "God, yes."
With a sly smile, Remus removed one of his hands from her hip and placed his thumb over her clit, rubbing in a circular motion until he felt her release. Her back arched, and her toes curled. Her hands grabbed for the pillow behind her head and clawed at it. Despite how beautiful she looked when she came, he fought the urge to cum inside of her. He wanted something else tonight, so he calmly fucked her through her orgasm until he saw her relax.
She opened her eyes and smiled, reaching out for him.
"On the floor again, Hermione," he commanded, pulling out of her, and dragging her feet off the edge of the bed.
She obliged without argument and slipped off the bed onto the floor, kneeling in front of his dripping cock, sans her gown, which he had pulled off on the way down. He took her hair and gently urged her toward his dick. She opened her mouth and took him in again
"You like the taste of yourself, don't you?" Remus asked in a husky voice.
Hermione blushed and continued bobbing her head up and down until his head hit the back of her throat.
This stimulation was enough to push him over the edge. He took the back of her head and pulled her off of him, just in time for a thick squirt of his semen to shoot onto her face, leaving a string from her eyebrow to the top of her lip. He grabbed his cock and aimed downward, finishing on her breasts.
He took his finger and scooped up a blob, pushing it against her slightly parted lips. She opened her mouth and curled her tongue around his finger.
Her eyes locked with his as she wiped the cum from around her eye. She had a smile which told him she enjoyed being covered in his cum as much as he enjoyed covering her with it.
"You've never been more sexy," he said honestly.
She laughed and stood up. "I'll be back. I need to clean up."
She left her gown on the floor and walked to her bathroom, not bothering to close the door as she wet a towel and began to wipe herself off.
Remus took the towel she tossed at him and followed suite, even though his process was much quicker than hers. He took the spare time to undo the covers and get underneath them. He was pleased when she returned, still without clothing, and slipped under the covers beside him.
She curled against his side and put her head on his outstretched arm. He turned his head and kissed her gingerly, realizing he hadn't kissed her all night. Her soft lips opened for his tongue, and he took his time, stroking his tongue against hers. One of her hands played in his hair while the other danced across a scar on his chest.
He pulled back and let her catch her breath, before he asked something he had been wondering since they became intimate. "Why do your fingers seek out my scars?"
She didn't halt her hand but instead smiled. "The stories we tell are the chapters of our books we choose to share. The scars are the untold tales, each one a book waiting to be opened, hoping for someone to not judge it by its cover."
"You don't want to hear about my past," Remus whispered darkly, even though a small part of him hoped she'd disagree.
She continued to smile as she swung one of her legs over and straddled him. She bent down to kiss one of the scars just below his collar bone sweetly. She then kissed another. And another. And then planted one on his lips, mussing up his hair.
"I want to know everything about you," she whispered softly. "One day, I hope you'll realize that nothing you could say or do would scare me away. I've never shied away from you, Remus, even when I was young, and I never will."
His heart swelled with emotion, and in that moment, he almost let slip his most important secret, but he kept it in and kissed her passionately instead.
