Nocturnal Emissions - 7. The Sweetest Thing

They are alone now. Completely alone in a spare bedroom in Sirius' parents' house. All too aware of the presence each of the other. As well as what has gone before. So, they must each be thinking, what happens now?

"Why don't we sit down and talk?" Remus suggests, indicating the bed behind them. Sirius looks unsure of the wisdom of this suggestion, but as there is really no other furniture, he does as he’s asked, taking a seat on the very edge, obviously nervous. Remus sits beside him, his hands spread flat upon his thighs, as if to keep them from reaching out to touch Sirius, a move that would undoubtedly spook the boy.

"Sirius, will you please answer my question..."

Of course, Sirius knows which one, the one he was grateful to have avoided when Regulus came upon them so fortuitously. The one he really doesn't care to answer now. The one he also knows he can't avoid forever. But, being Sirius, he does it in his own inimitable way.

"Remus, do you hate me now?" His voice is low-pitched, even though he knows silencing charms are in effect, as if he’s afraid to speak too loudly, or as if he doesn’t have the will to do so.

"Hate you? Hate you, Sirius?" The idea is simply ludicrous. "I could never hate you. Aren't we best friends?"

Sirius nods.

"Then how could I hate you?"

A reasonable assumption. Logical even. But Sirius isn't exactly in his most logical frame of mind at this moment.

"Sirius, about what happened.... back at Peter's house...."

Sirius winces. This is it, the moment he’s dreaded, the point at which he’ll have to account for his actions, atone for what he’s done. And the only explanation he can give—which just happens to be the truth—is that he was dreaming about Remus, about being with him. The truth is that Sirius loves him so much it hurts. He has these feelings for him he doesn't know how to deal with. And how can he explain that touching Remus was pure bliss, and how badly he wishes he could do it again, but while they're both awake? He can't. At least he doesn't think he can.

Remus continues, in the same soft voice. But Sirius is acutely aware of every word. "Are you sorry... that you... did that?"

Sirius swallows. Hard. How easy it would be to say yes, I'm sorry, I won't ever touch you like that again. I was a mistake, it wasn't meant to happen. But that isn't the truth. And he finds that he cannot lie to Remus. Not now or ever. "No....." He closes his eyes, not wishing to see the expression of disgust that is undoubtedly falling over Remus' face even now at this admission.

But what he hears, instead, is a soft sigh of relief. Confused, he peeps at Remus from between his long dark lashes. Remus is staring at him, with the most strangely rapt expression upon his lovely face. He reaches for Sirius' hand, holds it firmly within his own. "I was glad that you did that," he admits shyly. "It made me... happy..."

Sirius' eyes snap open now. How can they not? He’s either gone stark raving mad, he’s hallucinating—although a lovely hallucination indeed, mind you—or Remus has just admitted to wanting him in the same way he wants Remus. Can it be? He holds his breath, thunderstruck, not sure what he’s waiting for, but something is coming, he can feel it.

And sure enough, Remus has closed the distance between them, his lips brushing across Sirius', softly at first, then with a growing passion, as the other boy begins to respond. Their arms automatically fall into place as they fit together, two pieces of an interlocking puzzle, caught up in the wonder of this kiss. A kiss which endures until they’re both forced to come up for air, albeit reluctantly, gazing starstruck at one another—or in Sirius' case moonstruck—as if each is unable to believe the amazing good fortune which has befallen him.

"I've liked you for a long time," Remus says shyly, but with growing confidence, rubbing his thumb gently over the back of Sirius' hand, held so lovingly now within his own. "I didn't know how to tell you. I was.... afraid that you would hate me for telling you. But the truth is, Sirius, I'm in love with you." His eyes are cast down as he makes this daring admission, afraid he’as gone too far. Until he feels Sirius' hand upon his chin, tilting his face up towards his.

"I love you too," Sirius says simply, and kisses him quietly. And once again they lose themselves in the wonder of the kiss.

It isn't until he feels Sirius utterly relaxing in his embrace that Remus realizes that he must be exhausted, and he has been through a terrible ordeal. Clucking like a mother hen, he urges Sirius to lie back upon the bed, although the animagus is loath to do so.

"I'm not tired, Remy," he protests, but his drooping eyelids put paid to the lie, and reluctantly, he allows himself to be settled beneath the covers, but only after Remus promises to stay right with him, and they curl up together like puppies, as close to one another as they can get. Remus watches over Sirius as he quickly falls asleep. How angelic he looks, how peaceful now. Remus says a silent prayer to Merlin, before he joins him in slumber....

... at least for a while....

Sirius has been dreaming again—of Remus, of course—but this time when he feels the other boy's lips, he opens his eyes and he knows that this is all real, they’re really together, and he returns the kiss with interest, all thought of sleep falling by the wayside. Their bodies are rubbing together heatedly, the fabric of their clothing only serving to increase the friction between them, the urgency.

Remus' fingers nimbly release the buttons of Sirius' cords, allowing his swollen cock to spring forth gratefully. Sirius can barely believe that this is the same Remus who has always seemed so very shy and demure—this boy is lustfilled and wanton—and Sirius moans at his touch, as he takes the lead. "Touch me," Sirius pleads, and Remus is more than happy to comply.

He wraps his slender fingers about Sirius' erection, tenderly, yet firmly. His topaz eyes glow as he meets Sirius' gaze. They’re both simply amazed at the wonder of it all, at being here like this, together.

"Oh, Remy," Sirius moans, and the other boy steals his lips softly.

Hesitantly at first, but with a growing assurance, Remus glides his hand over the surface of Sirius' cock, over the head, which is damp with precum—a good thing, ‘cause he uses it to facilitate his movements. How good Sirius feels to him, how natural, as if this were always meant to be, which he truly believes that it was. He and Sirius. Fate has brought them together, and love will keep them together.

He kisses him with a fierce possessiveness. Now that he has him, he’s not about to let him go, not for anything. And the wolf within growls, for with this bond that they’re forging, he is perforce included by necessity. And not only has Moony chosen Sirius/Padfoot as his one and only mate, he would die to protect him/them.

Sirius cannot help but instinctively thrust upwards into Remus' grasp. "Remy, I want to feel you too, please..."

How can Remus refuse that voice, those words? He cannot, as they both scramble to remove their clothes, briefly interrupting their activities in order to gain so much more. Until they’re both bare, flush with excitement, each quite tumescent. They wind their arms about one another, their hips rocking toward one another as their erections begin to grind together excitedly in the urgency of their lovemaking.

They are two innocents, yet they are obeying the call of urges, of instincts far older than either one of them.

Lips entwined in harmony, bodies pressed together. Remus assumes the dominant position over Sirius without even stopping to think about it; it is simply natural. And Sirius allows it for the same reason. They move their hips, participating in the age old ceremony known as frottage, their hard cocks harmoniously grinding together fervently, their lips enmeshed as they bring one another to a joint climax, mutually arrived at, clinging together as their fluids mingle freely between them.

They collapse together at last in a sweaty sticky heap of satisfaction, breathing heavily, smiling blissfully, falling into a light doze until a soft rap upon the door brings them back to reality, and they hastily spring from the bed and don their clothes before cautiously opening the door to admit Regulus. He sees their flushed cheeks, the rumpled bed —it isn't hard to draw conclusions, after all, and Regulus Black is far from stupid. Besides, he had Remus' admission that he loves Sirius. He can only extrapolate that his brother returns those feelings.

"So," he says nonchalantly, "is anybody going to tell me what's been going on?" He crosses his arms, leans back against the door, looking from one boy to the other expectantly.

"We... we had a slight misunderstanding," Sirius mumbles softly, his eyes seeking Remus', for support, for comfort, "but it's over now... And Reg, thanks for... for everything....and not telling our parents about this....."

"About what?" Regulus' eyes flash mischievously. "How are you going back to the Pettigrews' if you can't apparate?"

Remus and Sirius exchange dismayed glances. "Maybe we could floo?" Remus suggests tentatively.

"Is that where you want to go?" Sirius asks, unsure of the reception they will meet with.

"We should go back, they'll be wondering about us, Sirius, they'll be worried....."

Sirius sighs, knowing that Remus is undoubtedly correct. "But how can we explain..... well, everything?" he asks.

Remus' topaz eyes grow big, and he claps a hand over his mouth. "Sirius, we have to go back, today is Christmas! I've left your present there, and everyone else's!" How can he have forgotten that most elemental fact, that today is Christmas day, and they have no choice but to return? "Happy Christmas, Regulus," he quickly adds.

"Remus, it doesn't matter," Sirius protests, "I don't need anything... Happy Christmas, Reg," he hastily interjects, "I have what I want already... I mean...." He blushes prettily, but Remus knows what he means, of course.

It is Regulus who points out the obvious, as the two starstruck boys stand there, looking at one another. "Oh for Merlin's sake, kiss and get it over with!" He rolls his eyes in exasperation.

Have they been so obvious, Sirius wonders, but before he can say a word Remus has pulled him into his arms and their lips have met most sweetly.

"Merry Christmas, Sirius...."

"Merry Christmas, Remus..."

And in that moment, the two boys realize that everything will be all right, everything will work out just fine, as long as they’re together. They bid farewell to Regulus with hugs and thanks, and one after the other they floo back to the Pettigrews to begin their explanations—and their happily ever after.

The End (or just the beginning?)