This Is What We Do

This Is What We Do

All the stars have fallen from the sky

And everything else in between...

Sirius woke up to a cold grey late November morning just before dawn. The rise of the wind through the surrounding houses hinted at the first winter gale trying to unleash itself over London's smoggy skies. Oblivious to the impending storm outside, naked underneath the cozy nest of bedclothes and still half-asleep, he was warm and comfortable and even pleasantly aroused.

At first he could not quite place the unfamiliar feeling that settled in around him like a warm and well-worn quilt. He did recognize it--something that felt sweet, and promising, and totally at odds with what he usually associated with living in Twelve Grimmauld Place. Then it came to him: Content. I am actually content. It was a sober shock to think how long it had been since he last felt like this though--since forever, it seemed. He rolled over to study the reason for this strange but welcome mood, the slumbering man nestled and snuffling at his side: Remus, Moony, werewolf, fellow Marauder, friend and now (oddly enough) willing sex partner. Or something.

A thoughtful look settled on his gaunt features as Sirius idly wondered why they'd never thought to become close like this before Azkaban. They could have, he mused, maybe, if they had wanted--and maybe if they had, they could have held each other back from the brink. They could have simply held each other. Like this, he thought, draping an arm around Remus' shoulder. For one insane moment he was grateful for being here in Grimmauld Place, if it meant that he woke up this morning with Remus--Moony--naked and curled up asleep beside him.

His body insistently demanded other, more pleasant things however, and to fulfill those he needed to wake Moony up. Waking Moony up had always been a favourite part of his morning. As children it had been cannon balling in Moony's bed, jumping on the poor boy and thwacking him soundly with a pillow. As flatmates, it had been pounding on closed doors then unceremoniously throwing them open, shouting unsympathetically at the top of his voice, "Up, you lazy sod!"

But this, he thought, ah this, is so much better, as he folded his body against Remus' back, letting his blissfully throbbing erection rub against soft skin. He brushed his lips against the nape of Moony's neck and planted an affectionate kiss onto his shoulder, savoring the slight sheen of tangy sweat on his sleepy-warm skin. His hand stroked up and down Moony's side, lazily tracing the outlines of his ribs, and was rewarded at last when Moony stirred beneath his lips.

Remus rolled over to face him, tousled and bleary. Sirius leant in to kiss him and felt Remus' mouth curving in a sleepy smile against his. Sirius' hand drifted lower and he noted with satisfaction that Remus had the same thing on his mind. He pulled him closer, nudging against his groin--and felt his bladder protest loudly.

"Hold that thought, Moony," he murmured, then reluctantly rolled out of bed and stumbled towards the bathroom.

Remus watched his friend through hooded lids as he got up and left the bed, allowing himself to enjoy the planes and angles of Sirius' naked body as he sleepily lurched from the room. He languidly stretched then pulled the blankets closer around him to compensate for the missing heat.

This 'arrangement', whatever it was now--'friends with benefits' perhaps--was working out well, he decided through his drowsy haze. It had changed somewhat over the past few weeks. It wasn't so desperate now; maybe they were more at ease with touching each other--perhaps they were just becoming more used to the physical intimacy of it, something neither had had for a very long time. He didn't feel anymore that it was something that would disappear and leave him utterly bereft again if he ever let it burrow beyond the surface; a niggling feeling he'd had even as he'd offered himself. They'd even started sharing a bed these past couple of weeks when he was at Grimmauld Place; now when he was away overnight on Dumbledore's near-endless missions he sorely missed the companionable comfort of Sirius' warm body beside him when he woke up in the morning. And when Sirius returned from the bog--Remus' whole body pulsed with anticipation and his hand slid lower, lightly splaying against his belly to brush against his own erection.

Then he realized sourly that this wasn't a good morning for lazy sex and lying in. Molly was due after breakfast to tackle the stubborn grime of the Doxy-infested dining room yet again--the rooms never seemed to come clean no matter how hard one scourgified and scrubbed--and Molly believed in the earlier, the better. Dammit. Snape was due later with the monthly allotment of Wolfsbane too, he added as an unpleasant afterthought. Grudgingly he sat up, Summoned his clothes from their resting place on the back of the chair, and began to get dressed.

Sirius stood waiting impatiently at the bog, silently cursing at the state of his erection that made it three times longer to relieve himself. It didn't help that he was already planning what he was going to do with Moony... But when he returned to the bedroom, almost shaking with anticipation, Remus was almost fully dressed and halfway buttoning up his shirt, and he looked at Sirius with an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, Padfoot, but Molly's dropping by right after breakfast." He shrugged.

"Yes, right, of course." Sirius tried not to sound too disappointed, and turned away.

"See you downstairs. Bacon or ham for breakfast?" Remus had already passed by him out the door and spoke over his shoulder.

"Bacon, thanks," he replied. Sirius stood alone in the bedroom, not-so-silently cursing Molly Weasley--well-intentioned perhaps, but damned inconvenient all the same.

Downstairs in the kitchen Remus tapped his wand to the kettle to set it to boil and lit the burner to fry the bacon. He shook his head with a half-grin. Necessary domestic chores like cooking were simply more enjoyable when there was more than one person to do them for, and this realization made him oddly giddy. Kreacher glared at him balefully from the far corner of the kitchen; but not even that dampened this strange feeling, and breakfast was a quick affair to pull together.

Kreacher had slunk back into his den and Sirius had just sat down at the table with a piece of toast and jam when the fire in the kitchen fireplace shot alive with green flame and Molly Weasley's head appeared in it, flustered-looking and hair in slight disarray.

"Oh, hello Sirius. Remus, I'm running a little late this morning, Arthur's Muggle experiments went horribly awry again, I swear that man will be the death of me--" Molly sounded exasperated, and both men at Grimmauld Place had to bite back amused smirks. "Would you go ahead and start de-Doxying the dining room without me? I'll be there soon as I can, there's a dear--ARTHUR! GET RIGHT BACK HERE THIS MINUTE!" And before either man could answer she was gone.

Sirius finished his toast with a thoughtful look, then looked up with dark, smoldering eyes and watched Remus sip his tea. When Remus met his smoky gaze Sirius stood up and crossed to the other end of the table where he sat. He leaned down and, hand gently squeezing his shoulder, he whispered in his ear, voice low and rough. "Shall we finish what we started upstairs?"

Remus bent his head, already feeling his pulse race, though he tried to retain some semblance of control. He set his tea cup down, slopping a little of the tea onto the table as he did so. "Can you wait until--"

Sirius tipped Remus' face up and his lips brushed Remus' lightly, savoring the mixed essences of tea and bacon and buttered toast crumbs and Moony. "No. Here. Now," he murmured against Remus' mouth, hand reaching up to caress Remus' hair.

"Molly--" he warned half-heartedly, voice harsh and tight with need, leaning into the touch.

"Is running late. So we have time." He deepened the kiss, his tongue gently probing Remus' lips.

Remus tilted his head back with a small moan, opening his mouth to meet Sirius', tasting jam and toast and darker, more primal things; his tongue parried against Sirius' as he let his mouth draw deeply, trying to slake a sudden thirst.

Sirius roughly seized his shoulders and drew him up to standing, knocking the chair over in the process, but neither man noticed. Still kissing him hungrily, Sirius moved his hips in small circles against Remus' growing erection, feeling his own straining at the fly of his trousers, waves of heat pulsating through his pelvis; Remus' hands automatically slipped to Sirius' upper thighs and met his hips movement for movement.

Fingers fumbled at clasps and flies and buckles, and before long they each had opened their robes and pulled the other's trousers down to mid-thigh, strangled twin gasps escaping into each other's mouths as hot bare skin slid against bare skin. Sirius guided them to the wall of the kitchen and pinned Remus against it as Remus gripped and kneaded his buttocks. They quickly found a rhythm, hips thrusting and tongues caressing in tandem, hot and tight and urgent; restless hands skated eagerly up and down each other's bodies under their shirts.

Remus lost the rhythm first, breaking the kiss and dropping his sweat-damp head down on Sirius' shoulder to start that well-known shudder that meant he was oh-so-close. Clinging to Sirius, oblivious to everything except the throbbing ache rapidly condensing to an exquisitely sharp point in his pelvis with each erratic shimmy against Sirius' body, Remus' breath huffed in humid irregular pants as Sirius pulled him in as close as he possibly could. "Yes, Moony, that's it, just let it go," he crooned softly in his ear as Remus stilled completely for that brief, infinite second--then he came with wordless cries muffled against Sirius' neck and sticky wet warmth flooding between them.

The earthy smell of sex bloomed in the heated air around them as Remus sagged after his release and Sirius caught him, held him close. "All right there, Moony?" he whispered breathlessly against his hair. Remus swallowed, nodded, then slipped one hand between their bodies to fondle heated flesh. Sirius hummed at the touch, slick and warm and firm around him, and began to rock his hips again in time with Remus' strokes, the white light behind his eyes searing hotter with each thrust--

"Oh hello boys, it took me much less time than I thought so I hurried over..."

Remus' head snapped up at the most unwelcome sound. Molly Weasley's voice trailed off and she only stood dumbly, mouth slack, her stunned gaze locked with Remus'; whose own eyes widened in horror as Sirius, unable to hold back any longer and unaware of Molly's presence, threw his head back, growled low in his throat and came in Remus' hand. Sirius collapsed against him, trying to breathe again.

Molly flushed scarlet, wordlessly turned on her heel and fled from the kitchen.

For a moment, the only sounds in the kitchen were of two men trying to control their breathing. As Sirius cooled down though, he noticed Remus' body very tense and unmoving, brown eyes staring--with a sudden, stomach-twisting realization, Sirius' head drooped forward and he groaned into Remus' shoulder. "Fucking Merlin. Please tell me that was not Molly Weasley who just saw us."

"I'm afraid so, Padfoot," Remus replied slowly, recovering his composure. "I'm also afraid we may have traumatized her rather badly." Remus leaned his cheek against Sirius' hair and shook his head slightly, grateful that at least they'd had the presence of mind not to remove their robes.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Yes, and I suppose we will never hear the end of it."

Remus huffed his agreement. "I'll deal with Molly, Padfoot. Buckbeak probably needs to eat by now," he murmured.

Sirius drew back, slightly irked at Remus' change in subject; but Remus' lips were quirked into a small, satisfied smile and he slid his thumb affectionately across Sirius' stubbled cheek in a gesture of thanks. They cleaned up and Remus went to meet Molly brooding in the dining room, while Sirius transformed to Padfoot to hunt down household rats for the Hippogriff.

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Padfoot had caught a whole mess of rats in the wine cellar and was trotting back down the hall with a full burlap bag of them in his mouth when he heard voices in the kitchen--Molly and Remus were talking, seated at the table. He paused at the threshold, then transformed to Sirius, who, after some four months in Grimmauld Place, was rather annoyed, though not entirely surprised, to find it still so infested with rodents. At least it allowed him to keep his hunting skills sharp, he thought, and to keep the dog occupied; at least one of us isn't going round the twist. Something however kept him from entering the room and interrupting the conversation; though from what he'd heard, later, he wished perhaps he'd had.

Molly Weasley had not spoken to Remus for much of the morning, except for the brief necessities directly concerned with pest removal. More than once Remus caught her staring at him, tight-lipped and with an appraising expression. Not that it mattered; Remus was well-used to being judged by others, though he hoped that Molly might have been a little less circumspect. Now though, sitting at the kitchen table contemplating the mug of tea in her hands, she drew in a huge breath, fixed him in her stare and addressed him directly.

"Remus, dear, about this morning--"

Remus couldn't bring himself to look at her. Molly, though disapproving, at least however had the grace to look uncomfortable.

"I know you and Sirius are good friends and you have been for years, and goodness knows both of you have suffered so much, and you're both the last remaining of your group, so what you do together is really none of my business and I can even understand that loneliness sometimes rears its ugly head--"

Now Remus stared right at her, face set, jaw twitching slightly. She flushed but continued doggedly.

"But really, Remus, what I saw this morning--well, I'm only grateful that the children weren't around to see what I did. Especially Harry. He thinks far too much of the both of you, if he saw you and Sirius--rutting--like that..." She trailed off and sipped her tea delicately.

"Molly, you are right, it really is none of your business," Remus replied, forcing himself to sound genial. "How Sirius and I choose to use--" he stopped suddenly, at a loss for words, knowing it didn't sound right, and trying to think of a way to explain their--situation--more clearly.

Molly gaped at him in disbelief. "Use? USE? What, use what?" Her eyes widened. "You? He uses you? You LET him use you?"

In the hallway, Sirius blanched. Not at Molly's words; but at the deeper meaning implied behind them.

Flustered, Remus tried to explain. "Molly, it's not like that--"

"You let him use you! My God! What does he use you as? A...a toy? A bone? A comfort object? You deserve better than that, Remus!" She spoke earnestly, starting to reach out and squeeze his hand--then remembered, and quickly withdrew it.

Remus Lupin never spluttered, but he was close to it now. "Look, Molly, you're jumping to conclusions--"

"Really, Remus, you cut him an awful lot of slack and yes, that's fine I do understand that given what he is and what he's been through, but it's no excuse, do you hear me? Even if he is bored and lonely! Sirius should know better than that! Friends do not treat each other that way." Molly was shaking now in indignation, her voice shrill with emotion.

Remus was stunned into silence. Molly rose to leave, slopping tea onto the table as she set her cup down, but she didn't even notice.

"I must go now, I'm, I'm just--well, Arthur will be home for lunch soon," she said quickly. Her voice softened. "But please, dear, consider what I've said. I care too much about you to see you--you--debase yourself like that, even for a friend." She swept out of the room, a blur of flying red hair and busy-ness, and Sirius shrunk back to avoid her. Remus only stared at her retreating form, lost in what she'd said.

Sirius waited a minute, then entered the kitchen, dropped the bag of rats on the floor and sank into Molly's chair, long dark hair shielding his face.

"Am I using you, Moony?" he asked sharply.

Startled out of his reverie, Remus blinked at the suddenness of the question.

"Am I? Using? You?" Sirius' eyes glittered as he met Remus'.

Remus considered what he wanted to say. "You know Molly jumped to conclusions," he began slowly. "But if you are using me, Padfoot," he added lightly, "I'm using you just as much."

From the ensuing silence, he wondered if he'd said too much, or perhaps not enough.

Then he heard Sirius snort. "Fuck Molly."

Remus was relieved that Sirius decided to take his non-answer at surface value. "Now really, Padfoot, shouldn't we leave that to Arthur?" he deadpanned.

Sirius snickered knowingly. "Yeah right mate, best off to do that." He reached down and picked up the bag of rats. "Well then, I'm off to feed Buckbeak, I'll give him your regards." Sirius rose and strode from the kitchen, leaving Remus to sit hunched over his tea mug, mulling over Molly's words that now, inexplicably, left an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

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Remus had left Grimmauld Place just after lunch to run some Order errands, so it was Sirius who greeted Severus Snape when he arrived with the Wolfsbane.

The monthly delivery of Wolfsbane was distasteful at best for all concerned, and it was clear to anyone that Snape detested having to hand-deliver it to the werewolf. They couldn't risk Lupin picking up the potion at Hogwarts however, so this was the solution, unpleasant as it was. It was bad enough that he had to face Lupin and Black at Order meetings, but actually having to go out of his way to bring the potion to Lupin in no way improved his mood. Though Lupin he could tolerate, at least for the brief minute or two that the transaction required. But he was especially peeved when he saw it was Sirius' dark head poring over Order reports at the dented and scratched kitchen table by lamplight and that blasted Lupin nary in sight.

"Where's Lupin?" Snape demanded curtly.

"Out." Sirius' surly voice shot back, not looking up. "Is that his Wolfsbane?"

Snape did not answer. Sirius then did look up into the greasy git's hawk-nosed face. "Is that Remus' Wolfsbane?" he repeated.

"I assure you, Black, there would be no other reason why I am here."

"Fine. Just leave it on the table. I'll make sure Remus gets it." Sirius bowed his head back down to the parchment sitting before him, clearly dismissing Snape.

Snape set the smoking potion on the sideboard and cocked a haughty eyebrow. "Really now Black, I am surprised that you have so little time to spare for civilised conversation, when I would think time is all you have on your hands."

Sirius looked up again, eyes narrowing. "Why would you think I would want to converse with you willingly, Snivellus?"

Snape sneered. "Tell me, how does it feel? The great Sirius Black, pitifully reduced to hide impotent in your father's house reviewing outdated Order reports? While even mindless breeders like Molly Weasley are out there risking their lives for your wretched godson? Truly that must--chafe," he finished silkily.

Sirius grew white and his hand tightened on his wand.

"You hide behind your mother's canvas skirts, Black, while Potter," Snape continued with a telling sniff, "is not even safe at Hogwarts. I do so resent having to do your job protecting him, Black--perhaps his parents should have made me his godfather."

Sirius' nostrils flared at the double insult. "The day you're made anyone's godfather is the day hell freezes over."

Snape answered back with equal disdain. "Indeed, that is what I thought when I learned you were made Potter's godfather."

"Do you have a point, Snivellus?"

"I am merely stating the--verity--of the situation."

Sirius' eyes flashed. "If you're finished delivering Remus' potion, leave."

Snape's lips curled in a tight bitter half-smile. "Ah, Lupin, yes, your beloved pet werewolf. Touching really, how domesticated he is, how he answers to your every whim. *Every* whim," Snape emphasized.

Sirius bolted to his feet, wand pointed squarely at Snape's chest. "What does that mean, Snivelly?" he said in a low, dangerous tone.

Snape started to whip out his own wand, but Sirius was faster, bellowed "Accio wand!" and caught it before Snape could react.

However, Snape did not back down. His voice was smooth and dripping with oily sarcasm.

"Come now, Black. You had Lupin try to kill me at Hogwarts. Now you're using him to keep you sane in this madhouse. How does he do that, I wonder?"

Sirius advanced menacingly towards him. "Do you think I'm insane, Snivelly? Do you want me to prove it? Show you how far I'm willing to go?"

Snape stood his ground as Sirius came to face him. "It is fitting, that two beasts should share this house. But madness is not something that can be torn apart with fangs and claws."

Sirius pointed the wand at Snape's throat. "Don't think I won't do it," he growled.

"Come now, Black, do you honestly think I'm afraid of you, even if you are mad? For someone as supposedly pure-bred as you, you have always been just a mutt whose bark is far worse than his bite--"

"Crucio."

Sirius' voice was whisper-soft and completely emotionless as he said it.

His grey eyes were steady and pitiless as Snape's widened in horror; Sirius watched calmly as the tell-tale excruciating whip-snap of pain started to dance along Snape's nerves for several year-long moments--

"Finite incantatem!"

Thin strong arms forcefully pulled Sirius away from Snape, pinning his arms tight around his back; then with superhuman strength those arms pushed Sirius into the chair and confiscated both wands. Snape dropped to his knees, trying to catch his breath.

"Really, Lupin, you should keep that mongrel on a leash," Snape hissed at length. "Surely you have at least trained him to heel?"

"You should leave, Severus. Now." Remus' voice was tight.

Snape rose slowly, flinching at the after-effect of the shock. "Somehow, Lupin, I do not think Professor Dumbledore will look kindly--"

Remus fixed Snape with a cool eye and pointed his wand at him. "Obliviate."

Snape's eyes went unfocused and he blinked. "Wha--"

"Thank you for bringing the Wolfsbane, Severus. You were just leaving," Remus said pleasantly. "Oh, you set this down, I believe," he added, handing Snape back his wand.

"Yes. Yes--I suppose I was," he agreed uncertainly, still looking dazed. After a brief moment of confusion, realizing where and with whom he was, he recovered his usual disdainful appearance and demeanor and nodded curtly. "Good day, Lupin." Snape totally ignored Sirius as he swept out.

The kitchen crackled with silence in Snape's wake. Remus stood over by the kitchen sink, his back to Sirius, clenching the chipped porcelain and visibly struggling to control himself. He had heard the conversation from the point of the mention of "werewolf", from the hallway, and it had rattled him severely.

It hadn't occurred to him until after Sirius had whispered Crucio that he would use an Unforgivable curse on Snape--he'd thought Sirius would have learned after the Prank...

Molly accusing Sirius of using him was one thing; she didn't really know them. But Snape's accusation, added to that--his head spun.

"Look, Remus--" Sirius began.

Remus whipped around to stare him down, brown eyes dark with suppressed rage. "I don't want to hear it," he snapped. "Dammit, Sirius, the last thing we need is to alienate Snape. We need Snape on our side, if you can't realize that--"

"I do know that, Remus," Sirius shot back, "though perhaps if you'd actually heard him insulting Harry, and you--"

"That doesn't justify it! We're adults, Sirius, we don't let boyhood grudges--"

"This isn't just a grudge--"

"I don't like Snape any more than you do, but I don't--"

"The bloody greasy bastard insinuated--"

"I don't care! There's a reason why Cruciatus is called an 'Unforgivable', Sirius!" Remus raised his voice, but he was not quite shouting yet.

"As if you weren't ready to use one of your own with Peter in the Shrieking Sh--"

"Fucking Merlin, Sirius!" Remus exploded at last, shaking and white with anger. "You haven't changed at all, have you? It's like Azkaban never happened! The second I'm not here to intervene you're trying to torture Snape--"

Remus trailed off and stood stunned as Molly's and Snape's voices echoed in his ears. That cloudy suspicion he'd nursed since Molly's visit suddenly became clear and the realization flooded him, blinding him with its harsh clarity. "It's never been about anything but you all along, hasn't it? You've manipulated everything to get what's convenient for you. You'll use anything if it gets you what you want. Including me." His voice lowered to a harsh whisper.

"That's not true, Moony." Sirius' voice was tight and quiet.

"Isn't it?" Remus hissed. "Why did you become an Animagus, Sirius? Was it for me or for yourself? Just why did you send Snape to the Shack in sixth year? To get him out of your way once and for all? Why did you ignore me just--just--" his voice cracked, "just before James and Lily..." he looked away. "Not just because you suspected me, either, you were ignoring me before then. Why did you trade with Peter? Because you couldn't handle it?" He faltered, knowing it sounded unfair, but he was at a loss to control it. "Then you were sent to Azkaban, and I missed you. I MISSED you. Why?"

"Moony--"

It was a bitter dam, twenty years of repressed rage, that burst all at once and Remus was unable to stem the scathing words. "God, even now! What am I to you, Sirius? A warm body to fuck? A pet? Have I ever been a friend, a person to you? Am I even human to you or is my appeal all about the beast?"

Sirius' face was pinched and white with the accusation, eyes huge and stormy grey with stunned hurt, but Remus didn't even notice. He clenched his fists, staring past Sirius at an unfocused point on the stone wall beside the kitchen sideboard, and his voice grew terribly soft, speaking aloud to himself.

"I clean up your messes and hope you might change, but you never have in twenty years. You never will and I've been deluding myself all these years about it. Why do I allow it to happen? Am I that desperate to have--"

Am I that desperate for friendship I'll let Sirius use me to get it?

Oh dear God.

Remus snapped out of his spoken reverie and glared at Sirius. "Molly was right. SNAPE was right. You have used me, all the while you've known me. And do you know what's worse? I let you use me--all of me--and I've been doing it all along." With that, he turned on his heel and left the kitchen.

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That evening, November's first snow was finally, albeit half-heartedly, attempting to fall and coat the world with a pristine blanket of white. It was beautiful, the way the streetlights illuminated the blowing flakes; but Remus, watching the night shadows fall from the chilly library window-seat where he sat attempting (and failing) to read, couldn't help but feel whatever magic the snow held was only transient--the snow would only melt in a day or two to leave the city more muddy and wretched than before. It never really changes anything, does it.

He was tired, a bone-weary weight that settled in over him; worse, he'd been numb since his outburst, and uncaring about how much he'd hurt Sirius in the process. He'd ghosted past Buckbeak's room later that afternoon, to see the door open and Padfoot huddled desolately under the Hippogriff's wing. Briefly wracked by nagging guilt, because he'd never meant to hurt the dog, he'd moved to enter the room, but Buckbeak had regarded him with a cool look that clearly said "Go away" and Remus had simply closed the door against the creature's accusing glare.

Remus heard a well-known canine snuffling from the doorway and looked up to see Padfoot standing uncertainly in the threshold. Padfoot's pale eyes regarded him miserably. Remus willed himself not to melt at the dog's forlorn expression, but found himself failing. Sirius he could push away, and often had, was doing so even now; but he never could find it in his heart to reject Padfoot. Sirius knew it too, and Remus now deeply resented it; either way, Sirius found his comfort from him, and he'd used it to his advantage since he'd first accomplished the Animagus transformation all those years ago. Used it like a lot of things.

But now though, watching the large black dog behaving as if chastised, head drooping and with his tail between his legs, Remus found he couldn't begrudge Padfoot. He couldn't forgive Sirius, but he couldn't refuse Padfoot either. It's not the dog's fault. So he beckoned the dog to come to him, and Padfoot padded towards him silently to sit in front of him. Remus reached out to scratch the dog's matted ruff, and the dog laid his head against Remus' thigh.

Remus' hands absently stroked the black dog's head lying dejectedly in his lap. Padfoot whined piteously and nuzzled his fingers; Remus thought that perhaps, if dogs could cry then Padfoot was crying. He wished there were some way to disentangle the dog from the man.

He looked up for a minute pensively--then felt the familiar magic shimmer beneath his palms and when he looked back down again, Sirius was kneeling at his feet.

"I hate it when we fight like this," Sirius murmured against his thigh.

Remus' hands stilled momentarily; then they resumed, long fingers steadily threading through the dull tangled strands in a methodical motion, with nothing approaching comfort. There was more silver flecked in amongst the black now, he noted as a distant observation, and he told himself he didn't care.

He felt the dampness of Sirius' cheek against his trousers; despite himself, an answering unwelcome sting burned his eyes. Even now, you manipulate me. And yet, this is what we do, he thought wearily. You use me, and I let you, and I never realized until today how much I hate myself for doing it.

Aloud Remus said non-committally, "I know."

Remus felt Sirius' lips quirk against his leg. "I'm a fucking idiot, Moony, yeah?"

"Yes you are," he agreed tonelessly. As am I.

"I--I don't know what came over me, I--"

"Please don't, Padfoot," Remus whispered. Please don't explain because then I'll have to forgive you, again, and I'm tired of doing that anymore. "Just--don't." Sirius only nodded again in acquiescence, rubbing his tear-stained cheek against the coarse denim of Remus' trousers.

Presently, Sirius drew back; not looking at him, he began to unfasten the tarnished clasp of Remus' belt buckle with trembling hands.

"Sirius, no..." Remus protested, grasping his wrists.

Sirius didn't meet his eyes; his dark head bowed, wetness beaded his downcast lashes, and Remus suddenly found himself furiously blinking back his own self-immolating tears.

"Please, Moony," he begged in a hoarse whisper. "Let me try to make it up to you..."

Begging forgiveness. Again and again and always. Because this is what we do.

He was so tired of granting it.

Because he can't even say he's sorry.

Even so, Remus released his hands.

You LET him use you, Remus.

Goddammit.

This won't solve anything, Remus thought dully, not even attempting to resist anymore as Sirius unbuttoned his flies and tugged the trousers down over his hips and to the floor; as Sirius' hands slid up his inner thighs and spread his legs apart; even as Sirius' hand curled around him and he hardened and groaned with the touch.

But when Sirius took him in his mouth, all hot and wet and velvet tongue, Remus let himself be pulled under, disgusted with himself for his weakness even as he surrendered to it--and he choked back a despairing sob as he came.

No more.

When it was over, completely chilled to the core, he simply rose from the window seat, pulled up his trousers and walked away.

--April 22, 2005.