A/N: Laptop problems; I'm having them. I will do my best to update as frequently as possible though.
Also, we're halfway through the collection and this K has been upped to a T. I feel that that, coupled with the prompt, is sufficient enough warning for scenes of a sexual nature coming up. But very, very mild. Ridiculously so. Promise.
5. shameless
Yesterday, I carved your name into the surface of an ice cube
then held it against my heart 'til it melted into my aching pores...
He is nothing.
Sirius has realised this.
He is nothing and he is no one but a man with a rusty laugh and creaking lips that don't smile quite like they used to, a man with one life - just one life - and it is in tatters and ruins and burnt at the edges, and Sirius, he is nothing at all.
So really, he has nothing to be ashamed of when he is feeling lonely and he remembers Remus' naked body, like pale silk with scars like creases, or Remus' moans, like desperate need and burning lust, or Remus' kiss, like a confession of love, of their utter, utter perfection together. He has no reason to blush as he lets his hands caress the edges of his own body, as he fingers the edges of his underwear and breathes in sharp, panting breaths. He has no reason to grimace in shame as his hand moves, as his teeth burrow into his lip, as his breathing quickens, as Remus spills from his lips just as Sirius spills himself.
No, Sirius is nothing.
Nothing, nothing, nothing.
And yet, as hard as he tries, Sirius Black is not shameless.
He imagines what Remus would think if he could see him now. Sirius can see the disgust in his eyes, clear as day. He can sense the revulsion. He can almost smell the hatred that would roll off Remus is dark, mistrustful waves.
And Sirius is ashamed.
He closes his eyes, as if it will hide him from his own sin.
It doesn't.