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firewhiskeyfic2017-11-07 05:04 pm
torino10154) wrote in firewhiskeyfic2017-11-07 05:04 pm
Entry tags:
ENTRY #6
Title: Remember When…
Author: Sirius’ Motorbike akatjs_whatnot
Characters/Pairing: Sirius/Remus
Rating: R
Words: 1,550
Author’s Notes: I had more to say last night, but now I’m just trying to hold down my breakfast folks. Had a ball. You all are the best. This story is not…
Yep, I’m going to do it. I really am. I’ve got all the makings of it, have all the proper ingredients: I’ve got Sirius and Bonfire Night and a Full Moon at the Atronomy Tower (even if I can’t spell it) and I got the perfect quote for the task. The task you ask?
I’m goiing to make you cry.
I’m going to reach into your chest, take hold of your heart and massage it with angst and sorrow, with pain and suffering, getting all the cobwebbed crannies, all the corners you’ve forgotten in your cynical middle ages--or your too cool for school millenial-ness, and I’m going to make you remember. Remember every heartwrenching thing that ever happened in the books--and more strongly, outside of the books, in the perpherary of the books. In those dark corners that weren’t mentioned but were implied. Oh, so many implications.
Remember the scorch marks on the Black Family tapestry? Remember when we heard of Sirius’ upbringing. The spoiled, privileged upbringing of the Pure Wizarding Class, all turned to shit by a litle boy who saw what the posturing and status tried to shine away. The cruelty inacted in the name of pureblood, the horrors purpertrated in the name of magical superiority.
Remember when we discovered he had a little brother? How that brother looked up to Sirius and wanted to be just like him, but wasn’t strong enough to walk away from his family, from tradition. Hadn’t made the sort of friends Sirius had made that first day, on that first train ride.
Oh, those friends.
It is said (by Stephen King *shhhh*) that you never really make friends later in life like you do at 12, and did anyone ever make better friends than Remus, James and even that fucki’g worm, Peter? It was easy to walk away from your family when you find a new one of your own choosing right there in your train compartment on the very first day. Almost like fate.
It was fate. You find your best friend, and you find the person that makes you feel things you never thought you’d feel, things that made you question your whole life while also giving you the most joy, the most hope.
...and suddenly this is switched to second person, sure, let’s go with that and hope it corrects itself soon.
Remember how Sirius watched Remus, worried about him, wondered. Wanted to know everything, wanted to fix all his aches and pains and there were so many. SO MANY. But they couldn’t talk about them, Remus couldn’t tell them and maybe they weren’t ready to hear. But Merlin did Sirius want to fix everything, to be his everything.
Remember that night when Sirus (YAY 3rd PERSON AGAIN!) went to the Astronomy Tower with all these feelings, all these wants and needs? How he felt weighed down with them sitting on his chest, ready to explode. The night was eerily quiet and still and the full moon was so enormous and close it illuminated the world below him.
That’s when he saw him. Remus, as if Sirius’ desires had conjured him, walking across the grounds with Poppy. He had said he needed to go home, that his family needed him home, but they weren’t heading to the gates, to where he could catch the Knight Bus, to where he could Floo, could side-Apparate. They were heading to the Whomping Willow and then they were gone.
Suddenly, thankfully, the need of Remus was replaced with the mystery of him. Remember that? How almost obsessed he got? How he borrowed James’ Invisibility Cloak on the next full moon, lying to him about the why. Not wanting him to share this with him, the first thing since they’d met that he wanted all to himself. Well, not the first thing. His want of Remus was the first. But still, this was part of that wasn’t it? And it was his, his to discover, his to know and share with Remus. If he’d let him.
He followed them to the Whomping Willow and watched as they stilled the frantic tree and crawled down under its roots. He fought against the urge to follow them, not knowing what he’d walk into, but he sat under the cloak and waited. When Madame Pomfrey (did I cal her Poppy earlier? Oooops. That’s a bit imformal Sirius. Who do you thinkyou are?... anwya) emerged, she was alone. He waited until she left, touching the same part of the tree, setting it off again before heading back to the castle.
Hewaited until she was back inside the castle before he mimicked her actions to still the tree and ound the hole that lead underground to a tunnel. He took a deep breath and followed it. He didn’t know what he’d find, what Remus was doing or where the trail led, but he couldn’t not find out. The Maruader in him had to know.
He got to where the ascend brought him back above ground when he heard it. The howl that shook agains the latched door he’d just reached for. He stopped, his heart racing. While he’d nevver herad the exact sound before, he felt the familaritey of it deep in his bones, the pain of it, the suffering. It took everyhting in him not to rush the door, to go to Remus, for he knew it was Remus, knew what Remus’ secret was and why he kept it.
But he didn’t go. Not because he was afraid, but because he knew if he got hurt in anyway, and of course he’d get hurt, REmus would never forgive him.
So he waited. He sat vigil and he witnessed--safe and secure under floors and doors--the painful suffering of the only person he ever wanted to take care of, the only person he wanted to make whole.
And finally what felt to Seriius like days later, the howls turned to whimpers and the whimpers to moans. Siries took a deep breath, took off theInvisibility cloak and opened the hatch door to enter what he now knew was the SHreaking Shack (is a little ol’ place where we can get together, yeah, Shreik Shack yea-ah! Shreak Shack baby!--I digress)
Sirius sees him before REmus knows he’s in the room. He siees the toll the night had on him, the wounds he’d inflicted, the damage he’d done. He’s no longer a wholf, but there is a hunch to his shoulders that suggests he was honly moments before. Remus lifts his head and Sirius cknws he’s sniffing the room, his canine senses detecting Sirius’ sent.
Sirius stands and waitns for him to turn. He does. There is shock, fear and anger playing across his face. Terror and rage battle as he approaches Sirius. Rage winning as he grabs at his shirt and pushes him agains tht ewall. They stare at each other. There are so ay things that Sirius wants to say. So many questions he has about what he’s just learned. So may confessions he wants to make about what he’s always known. Words fail him though. He Remus’ tourn an ripped shirt and pulls him to him, kissing him with all the force his bent up wants had pushed down for so long.
Ater a moment, the shock wears off and Remus growls into the kiss. Sirius doesn’t know if tis anger or his own want, but when Remus takes his fingers off Sirius’ shirt and wraps them around him, buies his fingers in the nape of Sirius’ neck, he gets his answer.
When he goes to wrap his arms around Remus, there is a whimper that reminds Sirius of the injuries Remus had inflicted on himself. He pulls away. “O you trust me?”
Remus stuied him. “With my life,” he answered, ikising him again, as if he just discovered his very favorite thing and didn’t want to be pulled away from it.
Sirius pulled him away. He pulled out his wand and Remus studied him again, but didn’t quiestion him. Instead, he steppe ack, took off his shirt, eposing all the damage. Sirius flicked his wand and the rest of his clothes fell to the floor in a heap. He wishpted through his teeth. “Merlin, REmus, what did youdo to yourself?”
Remus looked down at the new scraps and scratches covering all the old scars and shrugged.
Sirius walked around him, casting sing’=song changts along Remus’ body, watching the wounds cateurize and scab over before his eyes. “How long have you knowns?” Remus ased.
“That you’re a werewolf?”
No. That I loved you?”
Sirius swallowed hard.loved? but answered. “For about 5 minutes. How long have you k,nown?”
“That I was a werewolf?”
Sirius rolled his eyes. “O, that I loved you dumass.”
“Fog bout 6 minites.”
This time when they kissed, it wasn’t ugent, it wasn’t desperate. It was still replacing all the things they wanted to say, to know, but they both knew there’ be time for that. Time for all of it. They had their whole lives.
AND I’M SORRY, BUT I’M FEELING QOOZY AND THE IDEA OF NAVIGATING A SE SCEN IS MAKING ME THROW UP IN MY MOUT A LITTLE.
*sigh* Remembber thst? No? Ahhh, we must hve been eainf diffeernt bookd.
Oh wait… I was to make you cry, wasn’t I?
And then they all died everly after.
Merry Fucking Christmas
The End.
Author: Sirius’ Motorbike aka
tjs_whatnotCharacters/Pairing: Sirius/Remus
Rating: R
Words: 1,550
Author’s Notes: I had more to say last night, but now I’m just trying to hold down my breakfast folks. Had a ball. You all are the best. This story is not…
Yep, I’m going to do it. I really am. I’ve got all the makings of it, have all the proper ingredients: I’ve got Sirius and Bonfire Night and a Full Moon at the Atronomy Tower (even if I can’t spell it) and I got the perfect quote for the task. The task you ask?
I’m goiing to make you cry.
I’m going to reach into your chest, take hold of your heart and massage it with angst and sorrow, with pain and suffering, getting all the cobwebbed crannies, all the corners you’ve forgotten in your cynical middle ages--or your too cool for school millenial-ness, and I’m going to make you remember. Remember every heartwrenching thing that ever happened in the books--and more strongly, outside of the books, in the perpherary of the books. In those dark corners that weren’t mentioned but were implied. Oh, so many implications.
Remember the scorch marks on the Black Family tapestry? Remember when we heard of Sirius’ upbringing. The spoiled, privileged upbringing of the Pure Wizarding Class, all turned to shit by a litle boy who saw what the posturing and status tried to shine away. The cruelty inacted in the name of pureblood, the horrors purpertrated in the name of magical superiority.
Remember when we discovered he had a little brother? How that brother looked up to Sirius and wanted to be just like him, but wasn’t strong enough to walk away from his family, from tradition. Hadn’t made the sort of friends Sirius had made that first day, on that first train ride.
Oh, those friends.
It is said (by Stephen King *shhhh*) that you never really make friends later in life like you do at 12, and did anyone ever make better friends than Remus, James and even that fucki’g worm, Peter? It was easy to walk away from your family when you find a new one of your own choosing right there in your train compartment on the very first day. Almost like fate.
It was fate. You find your best friend, and you find the person that makes you feel things you never thought you’d feel, things that made you question your whole life while also giving you the most joy, the most hope.
...and suddenly this is switched to second person, sure, let’s go with that and hope it corrects itself soon.
Remember how Sirius watched Remus, worried about him, wondered. Wanted to know everything, wanted to fix all his aches and pains and there were so many. SO MANY. But they couldn’t talk about them, Remus couldn’t tell them and maybe they weren’t ready to hear. But Merlin did Sirius want to fix everything, to be his everything.
Remember that night when Sirus (YAY 3rd PERSON AGAIN!) went to the Astronomy Tower with all these feelings, all these wants and needs? How he felt weighed down with them sitting on his chest, ready to explode. The night was eerily quiet and still and the full moon was so enormous and close it illuminated the world below him.
That’s when he saw him. Remus, as if Sirius’ desires had conjured him, walking across the grounds with Poppy. He had said he needed to go home, that his family needed him home, but they weren’t heading to the gates, to where he could catch the Knight Bus, to where he could Floo, could side-Apparate. They were heading to the Whomping Willow and then they were gone.
Suddenly, thankfully, the need of Remus was replaced with the mystery of him. Remember that? How almost obsessed he got? How he borrowed James’ Invisibility Cloak on the next full moon, lying to him about the why. Not wanting him to share this with him, the first thing since they’d met that he wanted all to himself. Well, not the first thing. His want of Remus was the first. But still, this was part of that wasn’t it? And it was his, his to discover, his to know and share with Remus. If he’d let him.
He followed them to the Whomping Willow and watched as they stilled the frantic tree and crawled down under its roots. He fought against the urge to follow them, not knowing what he’d walk into, but he sat under the cloak and waited. When Madame Pomfrey (did I cal her Poppy earlier? Oooops. That’s a bit imformal Sirius. Who do you thinkyou are?... anwya) emerged, she was alone. He waited until she left, touching the same part of the tree, setting it off again before heading back to the castle.
Hewaited until she was back inside the castle before he mimicked her actions to still the tree and ound the hole that lead underground to a tunnel. He took a deep breath and followed it. He didn’t know what he’d find, what Remus was doing or where the trail led, but he couldn’t not find out. The Maruader in him had to know.
He got to where the ascend brought him back above ground when he heard it. The howl that shook agains the latched door he’d just reached for. He stopped, his heart racing. While he’d nevver herad the exact sound before, he felt the familaritey of it deep in his bones, the pain of it, the suffering. It took everyhting in him not to rush the door, to go to Remus, for he knew it was Remus, knew what Remus’ secret was and why he kept it.
But he didn’t go. Not because he was afraid, but because he knew if he got hurt in anyway, and of course he’d get hurt, REmus would never forgive him.
So he waited. He sat vigil and he witnessed--safe and secure under floors and doors--the painful suffering of the only person he ever wanted to take care of, the only person he wanted to make whole.
And finally what felt to Seriius like days later, the howls turned to whimpers and the whimpers to moans. Siries took a deep breath, took off theInvisibility cloak and opened the hatch door to enter what he now knew was the SHreaking Shack (is a little ol’ place where we can get together, yeah, Shreik Shack yea-ah! Shreak Shack baby!--I digress)
Sirius sees him before REmus knows he’s in the room. He siees the toll the night had on him, the wounds he’d inflicted, the damage he’d done. He’s no longer a wholf, but there is a hunch to his shoulders that suggests he was honly moments before. Remus lifts his head and Sirius cknws he’s sniffing the room, his canine senses detecting Sirius’ sent.
Sirius stands and waitns for him to turn. He does. There is shock, fear and anger playing across his face. Terror and rage battle as he approaches Sirius. Rage winning as he grabs at his shirt and pushes him agains tht ewall. They stare at each other. There are so ay things that Sirius wants to say. So many questions he has about what he’s just learned. So may confessions he wants to make about what he’s always known. Words fail him though. He Remus’ tourn an ripped shirt and pulls him to him, kissing him with all the force his bent up wants had pushed down for so long.
Ater a moment, the shock wears off and Remus growls into the kiss. Sirius doesn’t know if tis anger or his own want, but when Remus takes his fingers off Sirius’ shirt and wraps them around him, buies his fingers in the nape of Sirius’ neck, he gets his answer.
When he goes to wrap his arms around Remus, there is a whimper that reminds Sirius of the injuries Remus had inflicted on himself. He pulls away. “O you trust me?”
Remus stuied him. “With my life,” he answered, ikising him again, as if he just discovered his very favorite thing and didn’t want to be pulled away from it.
Sirius pulled him away. He pulled out his wand and Remus studied him again, but didn’t quiestion him. Instead, he steppe ack, took off his shirt, eposing all the damage. Sirius flicked his wand and the rest of his clothes fell to the floor in a heap. He wishpted through his teeth. “Merlin, REmus, what did youdo to yourself?”
Remus looked down at the new scraps and scratches covering all the old scars and shrugged.
Sirius walked around him, casting sing’=song changts along Remus’ body, watching the wounds cateurize and scab over before his eyes. “How long have you knowns?” Remus ased.
“That you’re a werewolf?”
No. That I loved you?”
Sirius swallowed hard.
“That I was a werewolf?”
Sirius rolled his eyes. “O, that I loved you dumass.”
“Fog bout 6 minites.”
This time when they kissed, it wasn’t ugent, it wasn’t desperate. It was still replacing all the things they wanted to say, to know, but they both knew there’ be time for that. Time for all of it. They had their whole lives.
AND I’M SORRY, BUT I’M FEELING QOOZY AND THE IDEA OF NAVIGATING A SE SCEN IS MAKING ME THROW UP IN MY MOUT A LITTLE.
*sigh* Remembber thst? No? Ahhh, we must hve been eainf diffeernt bookd.
Oh wait… I was to make you cry, wasn’t I?
And then they all died everly after.
Merry Fucking Christmas
The End.