I was a taller girl too, once. (regala_electra) wrote in 1001ways,
I was a taller girl too, once.
regala_electra
1001ways

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Beneath the Window (Outdoors, beneath a window)

Beneath the Window
Author: Regala Electra
E-mail: regala_electra@yahoo.com
Rating: R/NC-17 (not overtly explicit)
Pairing: Remus/Sirius (o'course)
Summary: Wallsex, a window, outdoors, early dawn, revelations, and did I mention the sex? Yes, there's that.
Location: Outdoors, beneath a window
Author's Notes: For raelala because I owe her this so much. Over 1,000 words (and I could be cute and cut it to 1,001, but naw). By the way, seeing the title 1001 Places Remus and Sirius Defiled Hogwarts in Many Interesting and Complicated Ways. A Comedy. makes me smile for I flove that title.

*

A pause before he's to know what this all means and it lasts an eternity and takes no time at all.

The hard heavy sound and then just a whisper, a promise, a curling of lips against his own, "Your secret's safe with me."

And then a shiver, the imperceptible acknowledgement of his frailty, that even he can break, can be swayed by just the even, calm tones of another. It is this false capture that horrifies him, but he cannot turn away.

"Now - breathe."

And to exhale is to admit that this - god this - this is more and more, but he hungers. He needs to know what's on the other side, because he's always supposed to know and he hates admitting ignorance, as though this is some petty battle, some trifle matter, and not what this -

This is more and he cannot breathe, cannot move, and then a sweet pause and a word of concern against his ear and he shivers - he cannot stop it. The damage has been done and he has been undone and it is all due to his own words.

He began this and he'll damn well finish it.

He must - and then his hands tangle into hair and he's dipping forward into the unknown and whatever comes, he doesn't bloody care. His eyes close briefly as he reaches out again and again and he knows time is passing, that his guard is down, but he doesn't bloody care, he only wants this, the sensations, the scents, the bodies. Yes, the body, just touch and he is lost.

"Do you want to-" but the words have all gone smashed together and yes, what he wants, what he wants is for this to continue, for it to end, for everything to burst at the seams and for him to stop this bloody thinking, for his brain to just be at the mercy of his body (which truthfully, occurs quite a bit) and just to - taste.

Something sweet and familiar and comfortable.

The rustle of clothing tugged and pulled and there he is free, he is willing - he is damn well willing and he'd say something if his mouth has a chance for anything but shameless, pure, and unadulterated snogging.

He's always prided himself in his abilities, but pride has no meaning here, he is without it, and it just pure and unrelenting want.

They are going to be caught and there is no reason why that thought crosses his mind. And a wicked thought then enters his mind (an old and familiar friend, after all - wicked thoughts) and oh yes, oh yes, he knows why.

The best plans form instantly, and must be acted out simultaneously with the conception.

He breaks away, staring at the flushed face of one Moony, grins, and then, knowing Remus isn't prepared for it (because Remus is rather easy to surprise once his secrets have been uncovered), shoves him off and now has him pressed against the cold stone wall of Hogwarts, right under the window of the most esteemed Great Hall.

Oh, how he truly does respect the hallowed walls of this Most Great Establishment and he shall be happy to share how deep his respect goes.

There is, he thinks, something to be proud of, as though he is marking his territory, and yes, his Animagus is a rather ideal choice of his core personality. However he tends to be a bit more depraved, though he always insists it is in a good way. For what is the point of being considered clever if one does not discover all that is within one's grasp?

And there's no better way than having Moony up against a wall, exposed to not just the air, but anyone who might happen to walk by in the early morning hours, when everyone's just not quite up and dawn's just not quite fully warm.

He relishes the cool against skin, and the skin against skin. A faint sheen of sweat makes him slide slickly against Remus, and he grinds his cock against him and finds that where he reveals far more with words, Remus reveals everything without words.

"Moony, I damn well do love you. I. Love you," he says with rather stupid emphasis, but the words still feel odd in his mouth, as though saying them, he is being laid far more exposed than Remus, whose robe has been long abandoned and to say he's wearing his shirt would be a bit too forgiving of the tangled mess remaining on his limbs and partially across his torso. It is as if it is the first time he is saying it, and he briefly wonders if it'll always be like this - an eternity stretching ahead, like the warm glow of the beginnings of a day - and he'll always never say the words quite how they should sound.

So he remedies the situation and lets Moony's shirt fall to the morning-damp ground. Pulling trousers out of the way, and Remus is never passive, never anything but a slow, studied kind of curious, examining him as though there is any possibility that he would ever leave.

He obviously still has his wits about him (and yes, he is a bit mad, but it's a more a madness associated with pondering the effects of combining several hexes and its outcomes on nasty, nosy gits). There is no reason ever to leave, because things here get interesting and Remus has not said anything, even though he's sure that there's supposed to be a reply beyond promising to keep things hush.

Fuck, he thinks suddenly, there is no reason to keep things hush, and he embraces Remus, catching warmth stolen by the cool morning air, and there is nowhere he can imagine being, nowhere that is anywhere but here - here.

Cocks rubbing and Remus's hand moving down (he's rather the impatient one at this particular point, always wanting to touch, there is the possibility that Remus is a bit more of a twisted bloke than most give him credit for, himself included in that count), and there - "Yessss," he hisses between clenched teeth, and soon there are only noises and bodies and noises and bodies and and and

yes

There is the sweet cool hotburst against skin struck by the coolness of morning, and he flings back the hair that falls so effortlessly into his eyes and he sees Remus, in this moment that no one should ever be allowed to see this save himself, because at the core, he is selfish and to see Moony here is to see him. It is devastating.

So, because he doesn't use words quite as well as he should in these situations, he tries to speak.

Remus shakes his head faintly, a wan, careful smile across his lips. "If you could return the favor - I love you, Sirius. Mad prat."

And Sirius knows exactly what to say. He says it perfectly and presses his body against Remus, unwilling to let this moment be lost to the warm blur of morning, "Your secret's safe with me."

The end
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