A Tale of Two Homecomings

Author's Note: Written for scarvesnhats, prompt for October first. Thanks to jazzypom for beta!

~~~~~

A Tale of Two Homecomings

All things on earth point home in old October: sailors to sea,
travellers to walls and fences, hunters to field and hollow and
the long voice of the hounds, the lover to the love he has forsaken.

~ Thomas Wolfe

To hear some people tell it, when Dumbledore sent Sirius back to Remus after the Triwizard Tournament, Sirius rushed through his duties to notify the other Order members in his haste to return to his lover's side.

Spending only the necessary minutes to give the message, taking every short-cut known to man and beast, between each visit he raced towards his next destination. Nothing kept him from his ultimate quest; with only sips of rancid water from puddles to sustain him; without food, without even breaking to pee, he hightailed it to Remus' quaint three-room cottage nestled in the English countryside in two days flat. Through storm and sun and wind and bleeding paws he stayed the course, his heart set only on his upcoming reunion.

Barking joyously to announce his arrival in the brilliant light of midday, he transformed back in mid-stride as Remus came to the front door.

"Oh dear Merlin, Padfoot!" he gasped, dropping his cup of tea onto the stone step.

The cup shattered, spattering hot liquid everywhere, but neither minded. Tears of happiness and relief streaming down both their faces, Sirius jumped without a thought into his lover's waiting arms. Seizing Remus' head in his hands, their lips met instantly in a long and fervent kiss. Remus didn't seem to care that Sirius was filthy, covered with grime and the detritus of his journey. With the fruity taste of Darjeeling on Remus' tongue and the musty scent of spice and old books in his robes, no words between them were necessary. In that moment, Sirius knew all was forgiven.

Remus drew him inside and fed him a modest but filling repast of bread and cheese and tea in his spotless kitchen. Finally, after Remus tenderly bathed Sirius in his tub from head to toe, combing out the snarls in his matted hair and removing the prickles from his foundering feet, they made wild, sweet love on Remus' narrow cot. Mid-afternoon sunshine streamed through the open window as Sirius pushed deep inside Remus; as Remus opened to him, drawing him down into his embrace; their eyes locked together in instant communion. Their shared cries of joyous release became their testament to the power of their everlasting love. And in that moment, holding Remus tenderly against him, Sirius knew he was home.

~~~~~

But to hear others tell what really happened when Dumbledore told Sirius to "lie low at Lupin's" after the Triwizard Tournament, it might have gone something like this:

Sirius took his sweet time getting back, fully enjoying his taste of freedom: sniffing out each and every distracting scent along the way; sharing high tea in Sussex with Arabella here; spending a grand night reminiscing with Mundungus in Knockturn Alley there. By the time he made his rounds to all the remaining Order members scattered over Britain, two full weeks had passed.

In the meantime, having taken advantage of Arabella's shower and Dung's five-finger discounts, he was fully groomed and attired, complete with second-hand wand. Being in the city, he could hide in plain sight, at least for now. Picking up a six-pack of Guinness almost as an afterthought, he finally stalked through the perennial English drizzle, to Remus' dilapidated third-floor flat over an Indian laundry in London's East End.

"Took you long enough, you bloody wanker," Remus snorted in greeting, taking Sirius' proffered gift without a second glance.

"And cheers to you too, you sodding twat," Sirius replied amiably as he wrung his hair dry on Remus' front carpet. "Feasted on anyone lately the last full moon?"

"Fuck off."

Sirius grinned, wordlessly following Remus into his shabby, terminally untidy front room. It was filled with odd sorts of wild creatures in cages, piles of papers on the end of the sofa, and congealed cups of something or other left forgotten on the dingy window sill. Remus waved the stacks off the sofa to allow Sirius to sit down. Sirius did so, and crossed his feet on the coffee table.

Remus silently tossed him a Guinness, set a cracked bowl of crisps on the table between, and flopped down beside him.

"So what passes for entertainment on the telly now, Lupin?" Sirius asked after taking a deep swig from the bottle.

Remus did the same. "Your choice, Black."

Sirius aimed his wand at the rabbit-ears and flipped through the channels. When he made the round, annoyed, he fired a bolt at the telly and it turned off with a trace of curling purple smoke. Beside him, Remus rolled his eyes and munched on a handful of crisps.

They sat in uneasy silence for what seemed like hours, each lost in his own thoughts; eating and drinking and occasionally burping, staring straight ahead at the silent set as the drizzle outside intensified to a proper downpour.

"You heard about Harry?" Sirius finally asked into the damp stillness.

Remus nodded. "Dumbledore explained everything."

"So here we go again, yeah?"

"Aye." Their eyes finally met, for the first time since Sirius arrived on Remus' doorstep. The sudden apprehension in Remus' face at the thought of Voldemort risen again, clearly mirrored Sirius' own. "Second verse the same as the first."

Sirius shook his head. "No, not the same," he replied softly. "This time we'll win."

Remus regarded him suspiciously for a long moment, then broke into a half-smile. "I suppose, now you're here."

Sirius returned his grin with a roguish smirk of his own. "Damn straight. Me at Harry's side? We can't lose!"

Remus rolled his eyes and shook his head again, but his smile grew fonder. "Cocky bastard," he murmured affectionately. Sirius shrugged, polishing his bottle off in one go.

They fell silent again, more relaxed now. Presently Remus stood up, brushed the crumbs from his trousers and proffered his hand to Sirius. "Come on." Sirius took Remus' hand and wordlessly followed him to his narrow cot in the darkened back bedroom.

Vanishing their clothes, Sirius immediately proceeded to fuck Remus face-down into the mattress, for the first time in over thirteen years. He gripped Remus' hips with strength enough to leave purplish bruises as Remus arched back to meet every frantic thrust, half-formed curses spilling from their lips as each drove the other to the edge. Unable to hold back, Sirius came first, lost in the tightness of Remus clenching around him. He rested his head on Remus' shoulder, sweaty and spent and gasping for breath as Remus shuddered beneath. Pulling out and rolling off, Sirius lay on his back to stare at the peeling paint on the bedroom ceiling; feeling content at last, wrapped in the companionable sound of Remus breathing beside him.