Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1667
Characters: Sirius, Remus

Author's Notes: This chapter and the previous one were inspired by Mysid's story, "Without Moony".

Sirius's heart pounds as he sits gingerly on the edge of the bed in the Shrieking Shack. He quickly gets up again and goes to lean against the wall instead. The bed is the only unbroken piece of furniture in the house but he feels he might create the wrong impression if he is sitting there when Remus arrives -- as if proximity to the spot where he and Remus have been intimate will somehow taint the purity of his errand.

He hears the floorboards creak downstairs and he begins to sweat. Slow footsteps make their way up the steps. For a panicked moment he considers hiding, but it is no use. Remus will know he is here this close to moonrise.

Entering the room, Remus's eyes find him at once and a low growl escapes his throat.

"Why the hell are you here?"

"It's the full moon," Sirius replies. "Where else would I be?"

"Get out, Sirius," Remus spits at him. "Now."

Sirius crosses his arms. "No," he says simply.

"You forfeited your right to be here a month ago." Remus turns his back sharply and starts to undress, pulling his shirt off over his head. "I estimate you have about thirty minutes at the most to get out of here or I won't be held responsible for the consequences."

"Are we through, then, Moony?" Sirius asks softly. "You and me?"

Remus turns, a look of surprise on his face, as if the thought that has plagued Sirius for the past month has never occurred to him.

"I don't know," he says at last, lowering his eyes. "I guess that depends on -- I don't know."

Sirius takes courage from his indecision and steps toward him to lay a hand on his shoulder. He can see a latticework of new and unfamiliar scars all down the boy's torso and the guilt squirms in his gut again. I wasn't there for you.

Remus flinches and pulls away. "Don't touch me," he says, but the heat has gone out of his voice.

"Tell me, Moony," Sirius pleads, voice still soft. "I'm not leaving unless you tell me we're through."

"Look --" Remus begins. Sirius can tell that it is becoming harder for him to focus with every passing moment. "Sirius, I -- I can't --" He finally meets Sirius's eyes. "I have to think about it," he says. "I can't decide -- can't think right now." He shakes his head, trying to clear it.

"No, Moony." Sirius lays a hand on his arm and this time he does not pull away. "You don't have to think. You know. And I need to know. What does your heart tell you?" Hesitantly he moves his hand on Remus's chest, wistfully tracing a letter "S" over the boy's bare skin with his finger.

Remus pulls away and goes to sit on the bed, face in his hands. "Don't do this now, Sirius," he says in a muffled voice. "I'm not ready to forgive you yet. After what you did --" his eyes burn into Sirius as he looks up, "-- using me like that in one of your pranks for some stupid, petty vendetta against Severus ...."

"I've said I'm sorry, Moony."

"You're sorry. You're sorry." Remus's voice rises and the growl is back in it. "Do you have any idea what you're sorry about? Do you even know what could have happened?"

"It was stupid," Sirius admits, hanging his head. "Snivellus could have been hurt or killed. You got hurt." He looks up. "I'll never forgive myself for that."

"No." Remus stands and strides back across the room, grabbing Sirius by the shoulders, giving him a shake and forcing him to look him in the eye. "That is the very least of it, Sirius Black," he says, voice shaking. "Yes, Severus could have been killed. And do you know what would have happened then, Sirius? Did you think about that?"

Sirius looks at him blankly.

"No? Well, let me tell you, Sirius-my-love. There would have been an investigation. The Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures would have been called in. You might have been expelled. Dumbledore would almost certainly have been sacked. And I would have been put down like an animal."

Sirius can feel all the blood draining from his face, and he shakes his head as if to deny the truth of what Remus is saying. His knees buckle and he sits down hard on the floor with a thump. Remus does not try to catch him. He had thought he could not possibly feel any worse, but he was wrong. A great, yawning chasm he had not previously been aware of is opening at his feet. His head swims and he feels sick to his stomach. Remus. Dead. My fault.

"So do you see, Sirius," Remus continues, "why 'sorry' isn't going to be good enough?"

"I'm the dangerous one," Sirius whispers through pale lips. "I did it, not you."

"I doubt that argument would have swayed the Committee," Remus says coldly.

Sirius looks up at Remus, eyes wide. "But you're Remus!" he says. "You're not dangerous! They would have to see ...."

"Not dangerous?!" Remus explodes. "How can you say that? You of all people, Sirius -- you know me better than anyone! At least I thought you did. Maybe we are through." He turns away.

Sirius bows his head in shame. "Please don't say that, Moony," Sirius says quietly. "I've said I'm sorry. Please, just tell me what I need to do to make it right with you, and I will. I'll do anything. Just don't be like that."

Sirius looks up mournfully to see Remus staring down at him, the wolf burning gold in his eyes. "I need you to understand, Sirius," he says. "But if you don't already, I'm not sure you ever will."

"Teach me, Moony. Please? Make me understand."

Remus narrows his eyes. "Alright," he says at last, as if weighing Sirius's sincerity. Reaching down, he grabs Sirius by the shoulder and pulls him to his feet.

Sirius knows Remus is stronger than he looks of course but the effortlessness of the action surprises him.

"Lesson the first," Remus says evenly, fixing him with an unblinking stare. "The wolf is strong. Stronger than you. If the wolf wants you dead, there's not much that can stop it. Even armed with silver, you're still pretty much fucked."

Sirius nods. He cannot bear the cold look in Remus's eyes. He reaches out a hand to brush a lock of hair away from the boy's cheek.

With lightning speed, Remus spins him around and locks an arm across his throat. "Lesson the second," the cold voice growls in his ear. "The wolf is fast. It acts on instinct. It does not make choices."

Sirius feels teeth close on his neck and holds very still. Remus is unpredictable in this state. He keeps tensed, ready to change when Remus does, otherwise he is dead for certain. As it is, he can barely breathe.

Without warning, Remus grabs his wrists and twists his arms hard behind his back. Sirius bites his lip and squeezes his eyes shut against the pain.

"Lesson the third," the cold voice continues, so close that Remus's lips brush his ear. He shivers involuntarily. "The wolf is not your friend. It exists to hunt and kill. It revels in pain and exults in death."

Remus twists hard again, crushing Sirius's wrists in one hand and forcing the other boy to his knees. He kneels behind him, pressing hard against him so that Sirius can feel his arousal. Reaching his free hand around Sirius's waist, Remus fumbles with the fly of his trousers.

"Lesson the fourth. The wolf does not ask permission. It takes. It does not love."

Sirius keeps his eyes shut tight, shivering as the cool air strikes the skin of his thighs. I won't cry out, he tells himself stubbornly. I won't ask him to stop. Not that he would .... He resolves to take his punishment like a man, in silent acceptance. He feels more than sees Remus fumbling with his own trousers. Biting his lip, he feels Remus's hard, hot cock pressing insistently against him.

"The wolf takes what it wants." Remus is panting now. "It fucks who it wants." He wraps his free arm around Sirius's throat once more to hold him still. "Do you want the wolf to fuck you, Sirius?" he growls. Sirius can manage no more than a tiny shake of his head. "That's too fucking bad then, isn't it?" Remus grunts as he forces his way ruthlessly into him.

Sirius cannot suppress a strangled cry of pain as Remus enters him. They overbalance, falling forward so that Sirius fetches up with his cheek pressed against the splintered floorboards, Remus heavy on top of him, thrusting roughly, growling low and continually in his throat, sinking his teeth into Sirius's shoulder.

Sirius cannot decide which is worse; the pain in his arms where Remus is twisting and crushing them or the burning pain in his arse as Remus relentlessly fucks him. But neither can compare to the pain that it is Remus -- his Remus -- who is doing this thing to him. A tear squeezes out from under his eyelid and fades unnoticed into the dust on the floor.

An eternity later -- though it is probably no more than two minutes -- he feels Remus groan and shudder against him. He is still for a moment before pulling out and away from Sirius, standing up and coolly removing the rest of his clothes. Sirius continues to lie on the floor, eyes shut tight, not moving, hardly daring to breathe.

"Lesson the fifth," Remus's voice is hoarse. "The wolf is in me, always. I am dangerous. Never forget." With that, he turns and strides out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

As Remus's footsteps echo down the stairs, Sirius transforms into Padfoot and slinks painfully beneath the bed, tail between his legs, to wait for the dawn.

Survivor's Guilt: Padfoot's Tale © 2004 Skjaere