Rating:
R
House:
Astronomy Tower
Ships:
Remus Lupin/Sirius Black
Characters:
Remus Lupin Sirius Black
Genres:
Romance Slash
Era:
Multiple Eras
Stats:
Published: 05/19/2003
Updated: 05/19/2003
Words: 5,005
Chapters: 1
Hits: 3,160

Many Moons Revisited

thistlerose

Story Summary:
Sirius promises Remus some good clean mischief for his sixteenth birthday. The pups, however, have differing opinions on what constitutes good clean mischief.

Posted:
05/19/2003
Hits:
3,160
Author's Note:
MMR began life as a stand-alone, but as I seem to be quite incapable of writing those these days, it morphed at the last minute into a prequel to "In Theory": http://www.astronomytower.org/authors/thistlerose/IT.html


The lights had been out in the sixth-year boys' dormitory for almost an hour, but Sirius Black lay awake, his system too full of sugar, his heart too full of anticipation to let him sleep. He tossed in the darkness, folding and unfolding his long, wiry frame, unable to get comfortable, and glanced numerous times at the watch he'd left on his bedside table. Each time he did it was to discover that only a few minutes had passed since the last time he'd checked, although it felt like much longer.

Belatedly he regretted the wording of his message. What if Moony misinterpreted it?

If you want your real birthday present, meet me on the stairs at one.

A little provocative? Sure, but at the time he'd written it and even as he was passing it to the other boy on his way back from the loo it hadn't occurred to him that perhaps he should have worded it differently.

He checked his watch again. A quarter past midnight. Forty-five minutes to go. He rolled over again and squinted through the gap he'd left between his curtains, through the shadows at the four-poster to the right of his own. The curtains were drawn and darkened. Remus wasn't reading by wandlight, then. Sirius hoped he wasn't just lying under the covers, staring up at the canopy in abject terror. He hoped he hadn't tossed the note aside and gone to sleep.

Come on, Moony, he thought urgently. You should trust me more than that by now.

He should, but did he?

Remus wasn't skittish. Sirius had known some skittish girls, and one skittish boy, who'd shrieked at the merest allusion to sex and gone rigid at a benign flicker of tongue. Remus wasn't like that. Remus matched him double entendre for double entendre (although Sirius' were usually better) and told him, now and then, what he fantasized about (making Sirius' toes curl). But Remus was wary, the way one wild creature is wary of another, and so as yet most of those fantasies had gone unfulfilled.

Sirius could be patient. He wasn't usually, but this time he knew that what he wanted would be worth the wait.

Provided he hadn't just made a mess of things. Well, if Remus had gone to sleep he supposed he could explain himself in the morning, although it wouldn't be the same.

He looked at the watch again. Only eight minutes had passed! Frustrated, Sirius got out of bed and went to the loo. That was good for another three.

Come on, Moony, he thought as he threw himself back against his pillows, then made a vain attempt at straightening his rumpled sheets and blanket. Come on, have a little faith.

When, at precisely one o'clock, he heard the soft whisper of bed curtains being drawn aside he almost let out a whoop of joy. That the other person now awake might not be Remus never crossed his mind. He bounced out of bed and ploughed into a soft body, sending them both to the floor in a tangle of gangly limbs and night robes.

"You came," Sirius breathed, feeling in the dark for the other's hands. "I was afr--"

The knee of the person beneath him connected with his groin--not hard, but with enough force to make him yip in surprise and roll away muttering curses.

"Touch me again, Sirius Black," came the voice of James Potter, "and you'll regret it."

"And when he's through," said Remus Lupin from the doorway, sounding mildly amused, "you'll have to contend with me."

Sirius glanced from side to side, squinting, trying to make out either boy's face. "So this is a conspiracy, huh?"

He heard James scramble to his feet. Then his hand was seized and he was hauled upright. "Better get going before you wake Wormtail," his friend advised. "And please don't get into trouble. If we lose the House Cup again this year..." James growled darkly.

Sirius, now fully recovered, clapped his friend on the back, nearly knocking him off his feet again. "Relax, Prefect. I want to see Slytherin suffer as much as you. We'll only be in the common room."

"Well...don't make a mess."

"Nothing but good, clean mischief tonight," Sirius assured him with a wink.

A few metres away, Remus snickered softly. So he did think his present involved sex. Or at least some very intense cuddling. And he'd come anyway. A very good sign. Well, plans could always be rearranged. Improvisation was a speciality of his, after all.

"We'll be back before dawn, mischief all managed," said Sirius, shoving James gently in the direction of the loo. Ignoring the other boy's grumbles, he turned to the figure who still stood by the door.

"Clean fun?" said Remus sceptically as Sirius looped an arm around his waist and led him down the winding torchlit stone staircase to the common room.

"Disappointed?"

"Depends on what you mean by 'clean', I suppose."

Sirius grinned at him. "What do you want me to mean?"

For answer, Remus grabbed him and pushed him against the wall. Sirius had the impression of glittering brown eyes and flushed cheeks. Then there were lips against his own, warm and sweet. He tasted the other boy's toothpaste, shivered with pleasure at the first caress of tongue. His arms wound around Remus' slender shoulders and drew him closer. The skin beneath the worn, bulky flannel robe and pyjamas was hot and so smooth. Soft. Well, no, one part of him was quite hard, Sirius discovered after shifting slightly so they were hip to hip. The kisses deepened, slowed.

Skittish? Remus? Not remotely. But fearful of his own power, wary of what might happen if he surrendered control, gave himself over entirely to feeling. Sirius understood. But all the same...it was a little frustrating.

Another kiss, long and languorous. Another. Then Remus lifted his head and smiled and Sirius was grateful for the solid wall at his back because without it he would surely have fallen head over heels down the stairs. He licked his lips, fought for breath, and when he'd caught it, rasped, "You have complete power over me. I trust you. I--" They'd been through this before. Over the past few months, after who could count how many furtive snogs and fumblings in corridors and empty dorms, it was clear that Sirius trusted Remus and Remus trusted Sirius. If only Remus could trust himself...

Remus gripped the collar of Sirius' robes and pulled him closer so the tips of their noses touched. "I know you trust me," he said, his breath caressing the other boy's lips. "Could I have my real birthday present now?"

"Downstairs," Sirius gulped. "Common room."

It was not an easy descent, and not a fast one, either. It was a mystery to Sirius how they made it down at all with their bodies practically entwined the entire way and each landing offering the perfect chance for more kisses and hungry pawing. He had to ask, once were they were finally safely in front of the crackling fire and Remus had Summoned two bottles of butterbeer, which he warmed with an easy spell, "You're awfully frisky; just how many sweets did you have before?"

"Oh, a lot," Remus assured him, lowering himself to the carpeted floor and raising his bottle to his lips. "More than James, not as much as you or Peter. I reckoned I'd need the energy."

Sirius sank down beside him, aware that his face was bright red. He didn't blush on a regular basis, but this person, this soft-spoken, ingenuously-smiling person did things to him that no one had previously. "We'll come down off our sugar highs," he warned.

In the firelight, the brown eyes glinted almost amber. "We'll just have to keep each other awake. About my present, now..."

" 'About my present'," Sirius mimicked. "Greedy pup, aren't you?"

"Rapacious."

"I love when you talk dirty."

"I love using words you don't know."

"I know what rapa-- What rapcious, what...you know...means."

"Oh, do you?"

Making a mental note to consult a dictionary tomorrow, Sirius took a chance and leered at the other boy with barely bridled lust.

"Very good," Remus murmured and leaned over to kiss him.

Taking care not to knock over the butterbeers (lest James the Prefect scold) Sirius accepted the kiss and the hands that cupped his head and buried themselves in his hair.

"Should make you look for it," he muttered when Remus left his mouth and caught an earlobe between his lips.

"It?"

"Your present."

"It's not right here?" Remus slipped a hand under his robes, between his legs, and Sirius yelped. "Am I close?" he inquired innocently. "Warm? Hot?"

"Scalding." Taking Remus by the waist, Sirius raised them both to their knees, then leaned back on his heels, gathering the other boy onto his lap. "Better this way, I think," he whispered, rotating his hips slowly. Remus garbled his assent and dropped his head heavily to Sirius' shoulder. Oh, this was nice, he thought, cradling the bowed, light-brown head, nuzzling the hot skin of the exposed neck. Who the hell needed sugar? This feeling, this pleasure that was so intense it was almost painful, was the best high by far.

Remus flung his head back and moaned throatily as he came. Sirius clasped him tightly, held him until the little shudders that rocked them both subsided. When he relaxed his hold they sank to the carpet, their bodies drained of energy.

"I think," said Remus limply, "that I like your present best of all. Better than James' and Peter's."

It took an effort, but Sirius raised a hand to touch the other's cheek. "You had better be referring to the stuff from Honeyduke's and Zonko's."

Remus turned his head and kissed Sirius' fingertips.

"And that wasn't your real birthday present," Sirius informed him.

"Wasn't it?"

"No... At least, that wasn't quite what I had in mind."

Remus watched, his eyes round with curiosity, while Sirius dug through his robe for his wand. "Orchideous," he said when he'd drawn it forth, then with a flourish, presented the other boy with a bouquet of white and purple flowers.

"Lupines," Remus observed, holding the bouquet to his nose and inhaling. "How appropriate. Poisonous flowers, but the seeds are safe to eat. It used to be thought they wolfed up all the nutrients from the soil." He raised his eyebrows and smiled somewhat wryly. "Hence the name. But actually, the opposite is true."

"Five points to Gryffindor," said Sirius. "Five points from the Marauders because Mister Moony was actually paying attention in Herbology when he should have been plotting mayhem."

"Someone had to pay attention," said Remus. "Or how would Messrs Padfoot, Prongs, and Wormtail pass the course? No doubt Mister Moony will now be compelled to spend many hours tutoring his less apt pack-mates. Anyway, I like the flowers. They're a first."

"Well, there's a crime!" Sirius laughed. "All right, then, it's settled. Next time Madam Pomfrey attempts to keep you from us she'll find her entire beloved ward filled to the ceiling with flowers. Then she'll either sneeze herself to death or realize there's someone else who requires your company, with whom she'd better not try to compete."

"You're completely daft," Remus told him, not unkindly, and hit him with the flowers.

"Well," said Sirius a moment later, when Remus was cuddled firmly against his side and the lupines had been relocated to a few metre's distance, to prevent them being crushed, "as it so happens, that's not your real present, either."

"No?"

"No. I told you to look for it. Had your mind not been so decisively rooted in the gutter, you'd have found this." He reached into the breast pocket of his robe and drew out a small box wrapped in deep green velvet, which he handed to the other boy.

"I felt that. I thought it was your cigarettes."

"Just open it."

Now, thought Sirius, as he watched Remus tug at the ribbon, watched the velvet fall away, this can go either exceedingly well or exceedingly poorly.

"It's...jewellery," said Remus as he lifted the box's lid. He glanced quizzically at Sirius. "Flowers and a bracelet. I'm not a girl."

"I'm well aware. Give me that thing and give me your wrist."

Remus watched with perplexity as Sirius fastened the bracelet to his wrist. It didn't look like something a girl would wear, Sirius thought. Or rather, it didn't look like something that had been made specifically for a girl. He'd bought it in Thailand over summer holiday and he hadn't worried about it, then. He hadn't begun to worry about its appropriateness until just a week ago when preparations for Remus' sixteenth birthday party had begun in earnest. Peter hadn't been terribly keen on the idea, but then, he hadn't really understood the gift's significance. "Just make sure you explain it properly," James had told him, but he'd approved. So had Lily Evans, the red-haired girl who'd trotted after James when she was younger and not nearly as pretty as she'd become over the past summer. Now it was James doing the trotting and who'd come just short of making her an honorary Marauder.

Sirius looked down at Remus, who was now staring at his wrist. "What do you think, Moony?" he asked softly. "And don't give me a mini-lecture on what pearls represent."

"Purity," said Remus.

"But what does it look like?" Sirius thought it looked like the moon caught in a spider's web, but he wondered what Remus thought.

"It looks like the moon," said the other boy. He fingered the woven hemp that held the pearl. "Caught in a net."

"We think alike."

"All right, why?" Remus gaze flicked from the pearl to Sirius. His lips curled in a slight frown. "I mean, it's very pretty, but--what makes you think I'd want something that looks like the moon? Paddy, I'm sorry. I do appreciate it, but--"

"It's okay, I know," said Sirius. "Listen. I got the idea from my little sister, of all people. There's a book Mam used to read to her. I must've overheard it a hundred times. It's Elen's favourite story. It's about this princess, of course, who gets sick and says she's going to die unless she can have the moon on a chain, the greedy bitch." He stroked Remus' hair as he talked, loving the feel of it, knowing the other boy was loving it, too. "Fortunately, the king's jester--that would be me--is a real sharp bloke. The brains behind the throne, if you must know. He has a plan. He gets the princess this pearl on a chain."

"And then he seals off all the windows and forbids the princess to go outside at night?" Remus surmised.

"No, he doesn't. Listen. He gets worried, of course, because come nightfall the princess is gonna realise they're putting her on, right? And then she'll get sick again and die and the king'll be...angry, to put it mildly. But he goes to the princess. The jester, I mean. And he asks her, basically, 'What do you think?' She's rather bright in her own way--this is you, incidentally, Moony, rather bright and...rapacious--" which earned him a sharp poke in the ribs "--and she says no, she's got the real moon. The moon is like...the teeth of night, or something. The moon's like a real tooth because it falls out every month and a new one takes its place. So she's got the real thing, but now there's a new moon, you see, shining through her window. Do you get it?"

"The teeth of night," Remus murmured. "The night has teeth."

"So have I." He bared his.

"Hmm. Padfoot's are more impressive."

"Well, then, aren't you glad you have both of us to guard you? We'll grab the night by the throat and shake out all its grotty, yellow teeth. Do you understand the story?"

"Not really."

Sirius grinned. "The story's rather irrelevant, to be honest. That's just where I got the idea. That thing on your wrist is an IOU. It's a pledge. Every time you look at that thing you'll think, 'Padfoot owes me the moon on a string.' I'm going to get it for you, too. Somehow or other. And it's not going to grow back. You're going to be free." It was a lunatic pledge, he knew. Lunatic. He should tell that word to Remus, make him laugh because just then, Remus did not look remotely inclined to laughter.

The other boy just stared at him, the brown eyes troubled. After a moment, he said, "Don't joke about that. My parents practically ruined themselves looking for a cure. They took me to see so many different witches and wizards I can't even remember all their faces or the things they tried. In eleven years they didn't find anything."

"They didn't take you to me."

"Sirius..."

"What?" He regretted the flash of impatience in his tone and tried to make up for it by saying, quickly, "Well, I mean, think. They keep making breakthrough discoveries in other fields, why not this one? How many times has Pomfrey mended our Prongs's bones? You think wizards just sprang into being knowing how to do that? The answer was there; they just had to find it. We'll find this answer, Moony. Promise. And why shouldn't I make the breakthrough discovery? I'm smart. I have incentive." Ah, there was the smile. Well, rather a doubtful one. It didn't reach his eyes. Still, it was a start. "Just face it," he went on, throwing as much joviality into his tone as he could in an attempt to brighten that pitiful excuse for a smile. "You run with a pack, now. A motley parcel of rogues, but a pack nonetheless. If Snape ever succeeds in turning me into a flobberworm--as he's threatened--I'd expect a little help from my pack-mates, too."

The thin lips curved upward at the corners. A small smile to be sure, but this time the warmth of it reached his eyes, rendering Sirius speechless. Remus took advantage of his pack-mate's momentary silence to say, "All right, I have faith in you. And I do like the gift. Although it wasn't quite what I was expecting."

"Wasn't it?" said Sirius, finding his voice. "You weren't expecting flowers? The moon? What were you expecting? More Exploding Snap decks? More chocolate frogs?" He wondered for a second at the indulgent quirk of the other's eyebrows. Then his own eyes widened and he was barely able to choke out the word, "Sex? Oh, damn." He dropped his head back to the rug and stared at the ceiling. "Damn. You did think that's what I meant with that stupid note. I'm sorry. I know how you feel."

"But I went anyway," Remus reminded him.

"Yeah, well..."

"Well..." Remus took his face between his hands, forced him to look at him. He was still smiling. "Idiot," he said fondly. "I know you know how I feel. I knew it had to be something else and I...thank you for that." He traced Sirius' cheekbones, and then his lower lip, with the pads of his thumbs. "After I got your note I thought about it for a while. What you meant and what I should do. We've done just about everything except the actual, um, thing, and it's been wonderful. Better than."

Sirius nodded. Better than wonderful was a fairly apt description.

"Anyway," Remus went on, "you know how I feel. I hate transforming. I hate it. I fight it every time, even though I know it can't be helped. Maybe if I didn't fight it, it wouldn't be so bad, but I can't stop myself. It's horrible...feeling this thing taking over my body and my mind. I can only imagine--I can only think it's a little like rape."

Rapacious, thought Sirius and felt his body go cold. He hugged the other boy tightly and murmured, "Never. I'll never let... We'll find..."

"It must be like drowning, too," said Remus quietly. "There's a second, just before the transformation's complete, where I can still think like myself and I know what's happening. That second is the worst, but I just cling to it with everything I have even though I know there's nothing I can do. I can't help trying. That must be how a drowning person feels. You can't get out, you're going to open your mouth because you're out of air, but once you do, you'll die. Your lungs are exploding. It's been easier lately, because of you and Prongs and Wormtail, but it's still... It's what I always think about when I think about sex. When I'm with you I can feel myself losing control. It's not the same. It's wonderful." He dropped reassuring little kisses onto Sirius' cheeks and forehead. "It's just... I've been afraid that if we go further than we've gone I'll think about the wolf and I'll reach that second with you and I know it'll be different, but... It's drowning, only in a different way. I'm afraid of what I'll do. Afraid I'll fight it, fight you," he finished simply and after one last quick kiss, dropped his head to Sirius' shoulder.

"You never tell these things to anyone else," Sirius guessed after another moment's silence. He ran his fingers through the soft hair, blew across the light-brown fringe so he could see the other boy's eyes. They were closed; the long, fair lashes fanned flushed cheeks. "You trust me."

"More than anyone." Remus opened his eyes and smiled again. "That's why I was thinking, tonight, maybe..."

"Maybe what?"

"Maybe we can pretend your note meant what you thought I thought it meant and...try."

Before Sirius had quite grasped his meaning, or thought about what he'd ever done to deserve this amount of trust, Remus had rolled back on top of him and was nudging his legs apart, gently, with his knee.

"Um," said Sirius.

"I'm willing to try," said the other boy. "If you are. Are you?"

Was he? "Hell, yes!" But, after a second's reflection, during which Remus got his robe open and was starting on his pyjama buttons, "Are you sure? After everything you said..."

"Did you miss the ending part of what I said? I trust you and I'm willing to try."

"All right..." He was still a little doubtful, but he felt his hesitance slipping away with each undone button. "I won't hurt you," he promised. Oh, those lips on his chest! And moving lower... He buried his hands in the other's hair and swallowed hard. "It'll be good. I swear, I swear. And if anything...happens...if you... Just say the word. We'll stop. We'll forget it. I don't want..." The ability to articulate suddenly lost, he grabbed the lapels of Remus' robe and yanked it open.

He had the buttons half-undone when he made an intriguing discovery. "Why, what's this?" he wondered, fingering the fluid, silvery material that slipped out of Remus' robe and fell, softer than silk, into his hands. He looked at the other boy, incredulous. "Don't tell me you stole..."

"Borrowed," said Remus. "With James's permission. And blessing."

"Son of a bitch, it was a conspiracy."

"A bit, but you don't seem upset by it."

"Oh, I'm not, I'm not. It's just... So Prongs knows. No wonder he felt compelled to knee me in the balls when I jumped him upstairs. Thinking he was you, of course."

"Of course."

The Invisibility Cloak fell to the floor as they kissed, long and hard.

"So," said Sirius when they broke apart for air some minutes later, "since we have the Cloak, where do you want to make this particular mischief? On one of the tables in the Great Hall under the stars? In someone's office? Where?"

"I'm thinking of a place where we won't get caught..."

"Pretty funny if Filch caught us in the act, heh? All right, maybe not so funny."

"I'm thinking of a place," said Remus as though he had not been interrupted, "where we can manage some good, clean mischief."

Sirius blinked. "Prefect's bathroom?" When the other nodded, "Even after all your talk about drowning?"

"I was speaking metaphorically. You know the password?"

"Got it off James in return for arranging that thing between him and the fair Miss Evans. Figured it would come in handy some time."

"Well..."

"Well, shall we?"

"Yes."

They kissed again, then helped each other to stand.

"Should do something nice for James," said Remus, picking up the nearly-forgotten bouquet. "Do you mind if I leave these for Lily? She'll think they're from him, anyway."

"I can always make you more. But better not leave them as lupines or she might cotton on. Or think Prongs fancies you subconsciously. Here." He uttered a quick spell, waved his wand, and the flowers in Remus' hands became flame-bright orange tiger-lilies.

"James is going to kill us," said Remus.

"Nah, not after Lily's had her way with him. Here, use this." He grabbed one of the butterbeers and downed it in two huge gulps. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and with another quick spell turned the bottle into a tall, graceful vase. He admired his handiwork for a moment, then handed the vase to Remus. "Go on, now, leave that at her ladyship's door. And hurry back."

Remus kissed his cheek, then started for the stairs, clutching the flowers and the vase in one hand, holding his robe and pyjama shirt closed with the other.

Sirius picked up the Invisibility Cloak and ran his fingers over it. Things couldn't be better, he thought. Yeah, he'd have to be careful, go slowly, take care not to spook the other boy, but he reckoned he was up to the task. None of his previous partners had ever complained about his performances, but none had mattered as much as this one. And they'd come this far, after all. Maybe he'd just let Remus do everything. Now there was a delicious idea. He could just lie back, enjoy... In that enormous bathtub with the diving board and all those intriguing taps. Good clean mischief.

He heard soft footfalls and turned to find Remus back at the foot of the stairs, grinning, hands empty. "Mischief managed," he said.

"I love you."

They both froze.

The words had just fallen out of him with the unexpectedness of a sneeze. He hadn't thought about saying them, hadn't even thought them, but there they were. He stared at the other's face, watched as the expression shifted slowly from surprise to disbelief (Why disbelief, Moony? Sirius wondered silently, Why, why?) to... He couldn't read that last expression.

"You love me," said Remus shakily, as though something in him was in danger of snapping.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do." Did he? The attraction he'd felt for others was nothing to the attraction he felt for this person. He'd never been this patient in any past relationship, or this generous. He'd never entrusted any previous partner with his secrets, his doubts, and dreams. He'd never promised anyone else the moon, and since he tended to keep his promises, he could only assume he'd one day be handing Remus the moon on a string. In fact, there was nothing he wanted more. Was that love?

Remus stepped off the bottom stair and started toward him.

If this wasn't love, thought Sirius, if this wasn't love...what the hell was love, anyway? And if this wasn't love, he thought as Remus reached him and put his arms around his waist hesitantly, if love was something even better than what they already had, then he wanted it, and he wanted it with this person.

"I love you," he said again, deliberately this time. "And I'd never hurt you, and I'd never betray you."

"I trust you," said Remus, leaning into him, engulfing him in heady warmth. "And as it so happens, I love you, too."

It was eighteen years later, while Remus Lupin was searching through old trunks for things to take with him to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry where he would soon be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts, that he found a curious thing: a bracelet made of frayed woven hemp, adorned with a single pearl. He found it in a small, battered metal box full of odds and ends: an incomplete deck of Self-Shuffling Playing Cards (one queen asked him, quite piteously, if he'd found her jack of hearts, yet); a Celtic knot brooch with the back missing; a few pens, buttons, and brilliantly-coloured feathers; Grindylow claws; a tortoise shell no bigger than the circle made when the tips of his thumb and forefinger touched.

He picked up the bracelet and held it in his hand. He thought it looked like a miniature moon caught in a net, or perhaps a spider's web. He wondered if it belonged to one of his sisters, or even his mother. How had he gotten hold of it?

The years following the murders of James and Lily Potter and Peter Pettigrew, and Sirius Black's incarceration in the wizard prison Azkaban were hazy in his memory, the details difficult to recall. He imagined his life as one endless dark passageway lined with doors, some locked, others merely closed, some hidden from view entirely. As he stumbled on there were times when he wondered what was behind each door, and where the hidden ones could be found, because he knew they existed. Sometimes he wondered what it was he sought in the darkness, what he'd lost and had to find.

He had no memory of the thing in his hand, though it was possible he'd picked it up at some point on his solitary travels. He wondered why his heart ached at the sight of it.

Was it his? And if so, where had he acquired it? From whom?

Who would give him the moon?

5/18/03