Key West Intermezzo

SIRIUS

Some people hated nightmares because they saw from their own perspectives while they dreamed, felt the terror or the pain being inflicted upon them, whether it was physical or mental or emotional. But not me. I hated nightmares because mine played out like movies, because I could only look on as I suffered, helpless to do anything.

The ragged remnant of a boy I recognized as myself lay in the corner of the attic in the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, huddled against the wall. My eyes spoke volumes of the suffering I had endured already, terrible and seemingly endless. Torture--that was the word that came blaring like a trumpeter's note into my mind. I had endured tortures too horrific to speak of, too horrific to even imagine.

My wasted, naked body was covered in great gaping gashes and lesions. Thick, dark blood spilled from the wounds onto the floor, pooling into ghastly crimson puddles around me. I think I was crying, which by no means shocking. I may never have cried in real life, but in dreams my face was chronically stained with tears.

Someone had entered the room. No, two someones. Kreacher led the way. His tiny elf lips were stretched in a malignant grimace. Behind him came my cousin Bellatrix Lestrange, black hair swishing with every powerful step she took. Her fathomless black eyes bore into me, burning me in an almost literal sense. In her hand she wielded a sizeable dagger, which she held at a distance from her person with the blade pointed downward toward me.

"I've given you my answer already," I heard myself cry out, the terror evident in my quivering voice. "I wouldn't join your ranks if it was the last thing I ever did!"

My cousin knelt beside me. "Don't be a fool, Sirius!" she said. "Think of all the Death Eaters could offer you."

I shook my head violently. "I would rather die than join Voldemort!"

"Traitor," she hissed. "You would dare betray our family, all for those friends of yours? That muggle-lover James Potter and that half-breed werewolf Remus Lupin?"

"You're the traitor, Bellatrix!" I shouted through gritted teeth. "You and those damned Death Eaters are traitors to the entire wizarding world!"

The sharp blade of her dagger moved slowly and steadily down my torso, and I watched myself grimace, either in pain or out of hatred. Perhaps both.

"Stupid, stubborn boy," Kreacher laughed. "Master doesn't even know that master's friends are turning against him already. Master doesn't even see it, does he?"

"Liar!" I tried to scream, but the word seemed caught in my throat. A thin stripe of blood trailed down my stomach, collecting in the creases of my abdominal muscles. The blood trickled further and further with each heaving breath, tracing a line the length of my tortured body.

"Remember," Bellatrix whispered as she rose hurriedly from the floor, driving the pointed toe of her black leather boot into the small of my back on her way up. "These wounds I'm inflicting are nothing compared to the damage the Dark Lord can do to you!"

I expelled my rage in a blood-curdling howl as Bellatrix slammed the door shut, and instantly I found myself wide awake, screaming as wildly as I had been in the dream, my frightened eyes fixed on the white linen of my pillowcases.

I felt hands clasping my shoulders firmly from behind. I trembled beneath the grip but did not move to force the hands away.

"It's alright, Sirius." It was Remus' voice, calm and comforting as ever. He was trying his damnedest to hold me still. "You're awake, Sirius," he whispered. "The dream's over."

My screams died, and I turned to look up at Remus over my shoulder. "But it isn't over...it isn't going to end...."

Remus shook his head and lowered himself to the bed beside me. "I don't understand," he said softly. "What did you dream?"

I didn't say anything for a moment, preoccupied suddenly with my trembling fingertips. And then, "Bellatrix came to see me last week. She asked me to become a Death Eater."

Remus was silent. I knew in his mind he was mulling through all the questions he wanted to ask me--Bellatrix Lestrange? How did I know Bellatrix Lestrange? What had I said to her? Would I betray my friends, my own kind? Was I in danger by saying no? Would Voldemort have me killed? But he had all the answers he truly needed; I knew that, too. Remus had a little more faith in me than to believe I'd ever succumb to wizards like the Death Eaters, for whatever reason.

He lifted his hands to stroke my hair comfortingly. I closed my eyes and relished the gentle touch, let myself fall helplessly into the spell it was working on my nerves. My head buried itself against his shoulder. Had he been wearing a shirt, my tears would have soaked clear through it.

"I hate this," I whispered, my words muffled against his soft skin.

"What's that?" he asked in the most tender voice I'd ever heard.

"Crying," I said. "I never cry in front of people. Merlin, I feel like the biggest baby in the whole world."

"Don't." His fingers clasped my chin and tilted my face upward. Even on this cloudy night, those eyes of his--amber now--seemed to sparkle. He closed them and placed the softest of kisses against my forehead. "Everybody cries, Sirius. You don't have to be tough all the time. Sometimes it's okay to open yourself up to whatever you're feeling. Sometimes, it hurts less that way."

I wiped what was left of my tears away and nodded, but I wasn't really listening to him. The dream was still too fresh in my mind for me to think on anything else. Yea Gods, I hated Bellatrix. And Kreacher, for that matter.

But Remus, I don't know why, was suddenly making me forget all of that. He continued to administer his soothing touches, deft fingers moving over my hair and face and shoulders. He was so close, smelled so good and so sweet, and his breath was so warm and gentle against my forehead. I nudged his cheek with my own and felt him sigh against my me. My lips grazed over his jaw, worked their way toward his own lips, then settled there. His mouth was yielding, acquiescent, eager to soothe my pain. Why were my hands still shaking?

"Remus," I whispered. "Remus, will you stay in my bed tonight?"

"Sirius--"

"The door's locked," I interrupted. I knew his protests. James and Peter were in the next room. What would they think if they came in and saw us together?

"Sirius, we...I don't..." he stammered. "It's just...you're not in a fit state right now, and I'm still a little tipsy, and I just don't know if that's a very good idea."

I sighed exasperatedly. "Remus, that's not what I meant!" I whimpered, clutching his arms tightly beneath my fingers. "I just want you to sleep with me, not...you know...sleep with me. Not like that, not right now."

A tiny smile began to work at the corners of Remus' mouth. His eyes searched my face for a moment. I hoped like hell it showed how desperate I was, although I wasn't entirely certain where this desperation of mine had come from. I just...it felt so good, all those comforting touches and kisses. I didn't want that to end. An understandable need for human contact...that's all it was. Wasn't it?

I hadn't officially concluded my internal debate when Remus pulled back the covers of my bed and crawled in beside me. His arms enfolded me, hugging me close, bare chest against bare chest. Why didn't I want sex? Remus had made a wonderful point: I was vulnerable, and he was tipsy. Why the bloody hell didn't I want to shag him senseless?

His body wriggled against mine suddenly, snuggling, if it were possible, even closer to me. For the love of Merlin, his thigh was pressed flush against my groin, and still nothing! I hated this confusion. Remus and I didn't usually do things like this, not unless sex was to follow. It was friends or fucking; we didn't have a middle ground. We'd never allowed these moments of tenderness, not like this. I...it felt...nice, but is wasn't sexual. Just...nice. But what the hell did that mean?

"You going to be okay now?" Remus whispered against my hair as he ran his fingers through the thick, tangled strands.

"As long as you're here," I answered sleepily, terrified by the truth of that statement but too tired now to care why.

~* / / / / / ~ * ~ *~

PETER

"Mmm...Lil...take off your panties...."

My eyes fluttered open at the sound of James' groaning. Vision was coming slowly but surely. The lights were off still, but what time was it? Late morning...had to have been. But the sky outside our window was so gray. And what was that flash? Lightning?

I almost asked, but something clicked in my head before I had even thought consciously to assess the situation. James was leaning back against a pile of pillows with the phone cord stretched across his bare chest. His hand disappeared beneath the blankets at his waist, where it was obviously handling certain ministrations for its owner.

Oh, God! I thought to myself. They're having phone sex!

"Tell me what you want me to do," James muttered into the phone, a tiny smirk playing across his mouth. Lily's answer must've been a good one, because suddenly his brow furrowed and he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip. Merlin, this was disgusting. I squeezed my eyes tight shut and buried my head under the covers, wishing I could dig a small, soundproof hole for myself beneath the sheets.

"Oh...God..." James whispered hotly from across the room, panting like mad. "Lily...are you rubbing your--"

James never finished his sentence, much to my relief, because the thundering knock at the door interrupted him. At the sound of it, I pulled myself out from under the blankets, rubbing my eyes as if having just woken. Sometimes I was a better actor than my mates ever realized.

"Fuck, hold on a second," James mumbled into the phone, sitting upright. Then, glaring at the door, "What do you want? It's unlocked!"

That was all Sirius needed to hear before swinging the door open and bolting into the room. "Just thought you'd wanna know," he said breathlessly, "news said a tropical storm's heading this way. Should be here in an hour or so."

"Do we need to evacuate?" asked James. His newfound concern for something other than his penis was nothing short of amusing, but that would have to remain my own private joke, unless I wanted an Unforgivable shot my way.

Sirius shook his head. "No, the bloke on the news says it's not going to be too bad, but to stay inside if you're close to the beach."

"I guess we qualify," I said, which seemed to surprise both Sirius and James. Perhaps they hadn't realized yet that I was awake. "Where's Moony, by the way?"

Sirius turned his eyes to the ground, and his face suddenly went red. Something seemed wrong, but I'd never been one to intuit anything unspoken, really. And if Sirius didn't mention it, then what business did I have asking?

"In bed," he muttered, fiddling with a thumbnail. "Prongs here tore him up with that firewhiskey, I think. Didn't want to wake him just yet."

"Well, you didn't have any trouble waking us, did you?" whined James before saying his goodbyes and I-love-yous to Lily and hanging up the telephone. "Now, I have to use the bathroom, so get on out of here, you great git!"

Sirius smirked at James, nodded to me, and headed out of the room, slamming the door behind him with no less racket than the one he'd made upon entering.

James crawled out from under the covers. "I've got to take a piss," he mumbled to me, crossing the room, seemingly oblivious to just how much his boxers were tented at his groin. Something told me James was not going to the toilet to pee.

And I hoped like hell he'd hurry up. After the disgusting display I'd woken to, I would undoubtedly need a good place to vomit.

~* / / / / / ~ * ~ *~

REMUS

As luck would have it, Tropical Storm Nicole blew in at eleven o'clock Sunday morning and left us stranded in the beach house for five miserable days. I didn't mind, really. Storm or no storm, the house still overlooked the ocean, and the violent weather only added to the phenomenal beauty of the turbulent, crashing waves.

By noon that first day, the four of us had begun a rousing game of poker that would continue on and off the full length of the storm. As the practical member of our little troupe, I had pulled out after the first five hours. I'd lost thirty-five galleons already and couldn't afford to lose much more. Poor Peter had lost a sizeable chunk of his funds as well, but, like a fool, returned to the table again and again in hopes of winning it all back. So far, things were looking pretty dismal for Peter.

James and Sirius, on the other hand, seemed to be neck and neck. One would win a hefty pot one hand; the other would take it back the next. They played well into the wee hours of the morning, breaking only when James received a phone call from Lily, or when Sirius felt the need to indulge in his two most sacred activities--eating and napping.

Needless to say, my sex life was suffering.

In fact, Sirius and I had done very little since Saturday's memorable blowjob. The poker wasn't solely to blame. Even with the high stakes card game going strong, he'd had plenty of opportunities to jump me--before bed, after waking, any of the thousand times a day James was on the phone with Lily. One night, I'd even gone so far as to slip in with him mid-shower, but after about five minutes of kissing and heavy petting, he'd run me off, declaring that we didn't have time to fool around. What had him so pressed for time is what I'd like to know.

Something wasn't right. Saturday evening, Sirius had brought me quite literally to my knees. Come Sunday morning, he would barely even look my direction. I didn't know what had happened, and I wasn't sure I wanted to, really.

It seemed so stupid of me to be upset by all this. I mean, if Sirius wasn't using me for sex, wasn't that a good thing? But as I've said, I settled for what I could get from Sirius. Of course, when you took away the kissing and the touching and all the stolen moments of sexual release, that didn't leave me with much.

Unrequited love was a bitch....

I'd done this to myself, though, hadn't I? I hadn't been forced into anything, I reminded myself. The first time he'd approached me, Sirius had been so kind, so gentle, had made clear from the start that I was free to call the shots if I so desired.

"First and foremost, you are my friend, Remus," he'd said to me, "and I want you to know that I would never do anything to hurt you."

I knew it. And he hadn't. He'd kept that promise. I was the one who had hurt myself. I knew it was never going to be about love, not on Sirius' part. In fact, we'd never discussed the possibility of this ever becoming anything more than sex. And for me to call Sirius selfish, to say that he'd used me as a means to an end, wasn't at all fair. This could have been mutualism at its finest. I had chosen to make it all about Sirius. I dropped to my knees of my own free will, invited him to bury himself in me, and never once complained if the favor wasn't returned.

And why, one might ask? The answer was simple. I loved him. I loved Sirius, and every time he moaned in ecstasy, told me how good it felt, came with my name on his lips, it was so easy for me to pretend he returned the feelings, that all those encouraging whispers and arousal-fueled sighs were, at their core, declarations of love.

But evidently, I would no longer have the luxury of playing make-believe, and without it I seemed to be on the verge of an all-out identity crisis. For six long months I had been a fool for Sirius Black, his favorite toy, his best-kept secret, his practiced whore. And if that was no longer my role, no matter how much I may or may not have enjoyed it, then just who the hell was Remus Lupin after all?

~* / / / / / ~ * ~ *~

JAMES

It was just plain...I don't know...unnatural.

There we were, on our last night in Key West, only twenty-four hours after that bitch of a storm had broken up, and the four of us should have been having the time of our lives. That's what Marauders did, they had fun. No matter what.

But I was not having fun.

I was dreadfully bored, perhaps the most bored I had ever been in my life, surrounded by some of the dumbest, dullest muggles in the world--Americans--and I was missing my darling Lily like hell.

Peter had opted to stay at the beach house for the evening, explaining to the three of us that he'd been up half the night vomiting. Funny. I'm a light sleeper, and I didn't remember ever hearing him get out of bed. I'd be sure to find out what was up later....

Sirius, ever the magnet for beautiful people, had managed to find that little brunette girl--Maggie, I believe her name was--who had claimed him the last time we'd come dancing.

And Remus...

Well, what could Remus do? He was threatening to rub a groove into the wooden railing near the lemonade stand, had been there for almost an hour now. I knew he was angry and upset and heartbroken, and I knew it had more than a bit to do with Sirius Black, but I also knew he was never going to fess up if I didn't ask.

"Looks like you're running low on lemonade," I said to Remus, handing him one of the two fresh glasses I carried in my hands.

"You didn't have to do that," he muttered as he took a swift gulp of the cool drink and tossed his old, empty cup into a nearby rubbish bin.

I shrugged. "No sweat. It was this or firewhiskey, and we've already been through one hellish firewhiskey episode, haven't we? Besides, after this week's poker game, I think I've got plenty of money to waste on friends when they've taken to brooding."

Remus tensed a little but didn't say a word, didn't even make the noncommittal sound of denial I would've expected from him, and so we stood there in silence, sipping our lemonade while the band across the pier played too loudly. Merlin, this was productive....

"Something's wrong with you," I said finally. Blunt seemed to be the best way to go.

"Yeah," Remus snorted, staring down into his plastic cup. "How'd you guess?"

"Wanna tell me what it's all about?"

"I'm not certain, really," he said softly. "I just feel like shit's getting ready to hit the fan or something."

Time to push, I thought to myself, but not too fast. "Is it anything specific?" I asked. "Or is it just a feeling?"

Remus shook his head and sighed. "I don't wanna talk about the specifics."

"You don't have to be afraid to tell me anything, Moony." I squeezed his shoulder, hoping like hell that the sadness I saw behind his eyes was something he'd be willing to let go of. I could be good for that sometimes. "It's the truth, mate. You know I'd never judge you, and it might make you feel better, I don't know."

His smile was bitter. He didn't take his eyes off the lemonade even for a second. "Why do I get the feeling you already know what I'm not telling you?"

"Let's just say I have my hunches."

He opened his mouth, not speaking, seeming to be thinking of what, exactly, he ought to say, and then, slowly, "And what is it you think you know?"

"Well," I sighed, "I don't know, but I'd guess that you're probably lovesick. And I'd venture to say that Sirius Black is to blame for that."

I waited, waited for him to lift his head to look at me, to comprehend what I'd said, to understand that I did care, that I wanted to help. And finally, he did all that. But his bitter smile didn't fade, and a small scoff issued through it.

"Has it really been that obvious?"

I had to laugh outright. "Are you kidding? I'd have to have been a total idiot to not notice. I mean, just the way you look at him, the way you two are always sneaking around together all the bloody time--"

"Not so often now," he interrupted softly. "Or hadn't you noticed that, too?"

I felt my brow furrow. "Did you two have a row?"

Remus shook his head. "Not exactly."

"Then what's wrong? Sirius ought to know you love--" I broke off abruptly, realizing how late I was at putting two and two together. Usually, that was left up to Peter. But me...I wasn't normally the thick one. So Sirius, in fact, did not know. "Oh! But I thought...haven't you two been...?"

"We have," said Remus, nodding.

"Then why doesn't--?"

"Screwing around with someone isn't the same as being in love with them, Jamie," he snapped. I realized then that Remus' true magic lay in his eyes. Just one look was enough to transfer a small bit of the pain he felt to me. And if this, this sheer anguish I was feeling for him now, was just a small bit, I knew that Remus himself must have been hurting like hell.

"And Sirius," I choked, "he doesn't want anything more than...than that?"

"He doesn't even want that anymore." Remus shook his head and turned his face downward again. "I don't know what's going on, Jamie. I just...you know, one minute we're fine, everything's perfect...or, at least, as close to perfect as it can be...and then since Sunday he's barely said two words to me."

"Why don't you just tell him how you feel?"

Remus gave out a bitter laugh. "Because then it would end for good," he answered sharply, wincing. Immediately I regretted asking the question. "You know how Sirius is. He doesn't love anybody but himself, and he doesn't want love from anybody, not really. He takes it...oh, he definitely takes it...but he doesn't know what to do with it. And then it hurts him if somebody's not wholly enamored of him. I've always tried to just appease him. What else can anyone do? Merlin knows Peter does it to a ridiculous extent. And you do it, too, Jamie. Don't try to deny it."

I wouldn't have tried. Remus had hit the nail on the head in regards to Sirius, in regards to the way we all treated him. I'd never looked at it from this perspective, but the things Remus had said were so true. And as I watched my best friend, the slightly drunken idiot across the pier, swaying provocatively with that damned Maggie girl, I nearly began to question the validity of my friendship with Sirius Black. What was Sirius trying to get from me? And what would he have done if I never let him have whatever it was?

Remus sighed and continued. "I guess my point is that I would never expect Sirius to return my feelings. So what's the point in confessing them?"

I turned to look at him. He'd been watching Sirius, too. I wondered if he knew that a single tear had fallen from his left eye and was now slipping down his freckled cheek. I reached out a hand and closed it over the back of his neck.

"Moony..." I sighed. "Remus...you deserve better than this. You're right, Padfoot's an arsehole. And you, well, you're about as close to perfect as any guy can get." Remus smiled, and I couldn't help but chuckle lightly. "I doubt it's any consolation, but if it weren't for that whole me-not-being-attracted-to-people-with-penises thing, you would definitely be someone I could fall in love with."

I felt him tense a little, and a quizzical look overtook his face. "Uh, erm, thanks...I think."

"Oh, come off it!" I laughed, smacking him lightly in the back of the head. "I didn't mean...I quite enjoy having sex with my girlfriend, thank you very much!"

Remus laughed, too. "I knew what you meant, you silly git."

He turned toward me and wrapped a lanky arm around my waist, holding me firmly so that I couldn't refuse his embrace even if I wanted to, which I didn't. I would never turn Remus away, would never be the one to let him down, not when he needed this camaraderie and comfort. He was too good a friend. That was something I never wanted to let go, something I would never in a million years refuse.

"Want me to Avada Kedavra him for you?" I whispered into his hair.

I felt him smile against my shoulder.

"Wouldn't really help anything, would it?" he muttered, sliding his thin frame out of my grip. I held him by the shoulders still, studying him, trying to fathom just how deep these feelings of his for Sirius went. And I saw there in his eyes the same thing I could always count on in Lily's--love. Pure, steadfast, interminable love.

Honestly, Sirius Black was missing out on a damn good thing.