Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1650
Characters: Sirius, Remus

Author's Note: The memories in this chapter follow on from those in Moony's Tale, Chapter 11.

The scent of the wolf was on his clothes. He had managed to make it out of the castle and back to the forest without being seen, taking refuge briefly in a secret passageway he remembered, but he could not escape that scent. It filled his head and caressed his flesh like the hands of a lover. He closed his eyes and again saw eyes like molten gold staring back at him, wide with shock. He could not remember the last time he had been so aroused. If the tingling he had felt before had comforted him that he was not broken after all, this sensation unsettled him deeply, and he knew it was not going to go away on its own.

He let his shaking hands find their way to the lacing of his torn and filthy trousers, and with his eyes still closed, head resting against the rough bark of a tree, he imagined Remus's fingers and not his own stroking hot, sensitive flesh. Not Remus as he had seen him this morning, all gray and worn from a lifetime of sorrows, but a Remus who was as young, fresh and alive as he had been that first time in the Shrieking Shack.

He remembered it as if it were yesterday. Remus's sixteenth birthday. He had thought about it for months, but when the day finally came, he had almost been too afraid to go through with it. They had spent the summer in a haze of joy fueled by kisses and mostly-innocent touches, but on that night in September it had been Remus who had suggested they go somewhere more private than their dormitory.

Sirius had been almost sick with fear and anticipation as they had made their way down to the Whomping Willow huddled under James's Invisibility Cloak, their clasped hands slicked with sweat. He knew what he wanted to do; he just hoped to God that Remus did too, but unwelcome imaginings clouded his brain in which Remus looked at him in disgust and said, "you want to do what?!" It had only been when they had arrived in the Shack, and he had finally made himself look directly into those golden eyes and seen the same hunger there that he felt, that he had known for sure that it was going to happen.

"I want you to be my first," he had said, his voice hardly quavering at all. I want you to be my only. But he did not say it. Not then.

They had gone to the bed then, but were both too nervous at first to do more than lie with their arms around one another. But he could not be frightened for long; not with the comforting presence of Remus there with him. Hesitance quickly gave way to passion. Clothes were ripped and buttons popped in their eagerness for one another.

Sirius remembered how Remus had looked then; skin flushed, eyes bright, the goose bumps on his skin as Sirius had traced the scars on his torso. And he remembered most of all the small, soft sounds Remus had made when Sirius had taken him in his mouth for the first time. Sirius tasted that hot, eager flesh on his tongue once again and moaned in the back of his throat.

And how he had looked after. Oh, God! Tousled and spent and blissful, his skin slick with sweat. "I love you, Sirius," he had said then. It was the most beautiful thing Sirius had ever seen, and he treasured it, reliving again the joy of being loved by Remus Lupin.

"What do you want me to do now, Birthday Boy?" he had asked then.

"Well ..." a slow smile tugged at Remus's mouth. "You are wearing far too many clothes, Mr Black. Much as it pains me, I shall be forced to take points from Gryffindor if you do not remove them immediately."

Sirius grinned. He was halfway out of his trousers when he paused. The grin faded from his lips.

"What's the matter, Padfoot?" There was concern in Remus's voice.

Sirius blushed. "It's nothing. Just -- well, mine's not -- not quite as big as yours, is all."

Remus burst out laughing. "Oh, God, Padfoot! Are you really worried about that?" But then he caught sight of Sirius's face. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have laughed." He sat up. "Padfoot -- Sirius -- look at me." Sirius did so, slowly. Remus looked directly into his eyes which widened in surprise as Remus's hand came to rest between his legs.

"Does it give you pleasure when I touch you like this, Padfoot?" he asked seriously. Sirius nodded mutely. "And do you think maybe I enjoyed what you just did?" A small smile flickered at the corner of Sirius's mouth. "Then there's nothing to worry about. Now get naked, or I'll make it ten points from Gryffindor."

The grin was back on Sirius's face as he shed the rest of his clothing. In truth, he was not that much smaller than Remus, and certainly well within the realm of "average". His size had never really bothered him; he had just worried that it might bother Remus.

"What do you want me to do?" he repeated, lying down beside the other boy and gently biting his damp shoulder.

"What do you want to do?" Remus replied, his fingers resting lightly on Sirius's thigh.

Sirius swallowed. He knew what he wanted to do, but this was the bit he was worried Remus would not like. To cover his confusion, to took Remus's hand and placed it on his cock. Remus's fingers were warm and calloused, and Sirius pressed himself eagerly against his palm. The words somehow came easier with Remus touching him like that.

"I want --" he gasped. "I want to -- to be inside you, Moony." Remus's hand stilled and Sirius looked up nervously into his eyes. "I mean -- if you don't mind. I'd just -- just like to, is all," he finished lamely.

Remus licked his lips nervously. "Alright," he said. "What -- what do I have to do?"

"Um," said Sirius, fumbling for his clothes. "Just lie down, I guess. And -- um -- put your knees up." He found what he was looking for in the pocket of his discarded robes: a tiny blue bottle which he had purchased from a Very Discreet shop in Diagon Alley two weeks before. He pulled out the cork and poured a few drops of the potion on his fingers. It was warm and oily and smelled very pleasant.

"What's that?" Remus asked nervously.

Sirius smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way. "It's just a potion I bought. It's supposed to -- er -- make things easier."

"Oh," said Remus. Without another word, Remus sat up and took Sirius's hand, smearing the warm oil onto his own fingers. Then he reached down and began to massage it into Sirius's cock.

Sirius closed his eyes and moaned. "God, that feels good, Moony."

"Well, it had better not feel too good yet," replied Remus with a smile in his voice. His hand left Sirius and moved between his own parted legs.

Sirius watched, wide-eyed as Remus rubbed the potion into his pale skin. He took Remus's hand and moved it to one side, pinning his arm to the bed as he got between his thighs. His own skin seemed so hot that Remus's felt chilled by comparison. He could see the fear in the young werewolf's golden eyes, inches from his own. Very gently, Sirius kissed him. "Tell me if it hurts?" he said. "I'll stop. I promise." He hoped he would be able to.

Remus's eyes closed as the tip of Sirius's cock pressed against him. Sirius could feel his heart racing. He could not wait another minute. Remus lying under him, completely submissive and waiting for him, was doing things to his senses that just imagining this scenario had not prepared him for. Remus tensed as Sirius applied a little more pressure. His eyes sprang open wide as the head of Sirius's cock entered him.

"Are you okay?" Sirius gasped. It was all he could do to keep himself in check.

Remus nodded. "It's alright. Just odd." Remus hesitantly ran his hands over Sirius's shoulders and down his back. "Go on, Padfoot," he urged, giving his buttocks a gentle squeeze.

It was all the encouragement Sirius needed. With a groan, he sheathed himself to the hilt. Remus gave a strangled cry, but Sirius could not stop. It was too good. The ancient, mindless rhythm of sex possessed him and he was thrusting into Remus again and again, unintelligible sounds of pleasure escaping his throat.

He was really doing it! He could hardly believe it! And it was better than he had ever imagined it could be. He felt as though his brain had melted, and all that was left was a mindless need to join with the Other -- to give all he had and to expend his life force, if need be -- in this one glorious moment of --

"Oh, God, Moony! I'm going to --" An exultant cry burst from the lips of Sirius Black as he sat beneath a tree in the Forbidden Forest, his fist wrapped tight around his cock as he jerked and moaned and spilled twelve years of pent-up longing over his fingers.

Afterward, he lay in the cool, dawn air, his heart rate slowly returning to normal. And he remembered. He remembered opening his eyes and seeing the shy smile on Remus's face. He remembered collapsing against him in a heap of sticky bedsheets and sweaty limbs. He remembered Remus lifting the damp hair from his neck. He remembered the stirrings of Remus's arousal beginning again against his stomach.

"Oh, you liked that, did you?" he echoed his own words of so long ago. And then he slept and dreamed of the glorious night that had followed.

Survivor's Guilt: Padfoot's Tale © 2006 Skjaere