Harry Potter Getting there

**Title:** Getting there  
**Pairing:** Remus/Sirius  
**Disclaimer:** I wish.  
**Summary:** Sirius says they're _just experimenting_. Remus says it too. But it always hurts him more and he's learning the hard way that falling doesn't always come with a soft landing. And sometimes, most times, love hurts more than it's worth.   
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was Monday morning before Remus realised he hadn't slept a wink. His back was stiff against the mattress and his muscles ached in all the wrong places, but the sound of the door slamming shut to a chorus of mumbling from the common room made his eyes ache. He knew the other three beds in the room were empty before he even opened the curtains and he knew his head would spin before he straightened himself to sit up. As the dreary winter sun shot through the window he also knew he was likely to have missed breakfast, along with his chance to pop by the library before classes started. But his temples pounded down through his jaw, making his throat dry, and he couldn't think of enough to make heed of anything.

It had been an experiment. Sirius's words, the night before. Just that, an experiment. So there was no need to tell anyone. And definitely no need to get so worked up over it. But the moment Sirius had crawled out of his bed and back into his own, it had came weighing down and his heart hadn't quite felt the same since. He felt silly for even letting it bother him. And somewhere between the spaces of conscious thought, he felt dirty. 

An hour later, cramped into a corner of the Gryffinor bathroom, he could still taste him on his lips and he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. This was just absurd. They had been adament it wouldn't change anything. And just as Remus was talking himself upto it not, he caught sight of the deep red blotch of a lovebite on his neck. And realised how stupid they'd been.

--

It wasn't until their afternoon Transfiguration class that Remus managed to catch up with his friends, and by the time he did there was little time for talk. James's whispered hiss of "Where on earth have you been?" was all he managed to hear before Professor Mcgonagall pulled out the huge blackboard, detailed with instructions on how a proper animagus would shift forms. They all almost grinned. Sirius caught his eyes and his stomach twisted into a tight knot at the realisation that he hated him, just a little bit, behind it all, for not even having the deceny to be as awkward about it as Remus felt.

Their knees brushed together under the table and his knuckles tightened around his quill. He almost wished Sirius was doing it on purpose. He almost wished he wasn't.

They were flicking animatedly through thick textbooks half an hour later, and Remus almost said something when Sirius asked to share. James punched Peter in the arm and he nearly toppled off his stool, causing them both to be too distracted to do anything other than laugh.

Halfway through trying to transfigure his mouse into a teapot, Sirius smiled at him.

"Last night was great," he whispered and Remus's spell almost slipped before he caught the last half of the sentence, "Who would have thought Snivellus had it in him to fight back, huh?"

His cheeks stung with embarrassment. With shame. Of course Sirius had more sense than to bring that up in class. In front of others. Sirius had more sense than to even waste time thinking about it, nevermind bringing it up at all.

"He still ended up in the hospital wing," Remus mumbled as a startling pristine teapot appeared before them, coated in fine china flowers.

"Yeah, that was the best part," Sirius laughed, reaching out to inspect Peter's attempt.

"Tail," he grinned, "Eyes. Fur. Mouth."

Peter bit his lip and snatched it back as a sharp whimper shattered the porcelein skin. 

"Think he scarred himself," James laughed and Sirius joined in.

Remus nudged him accidentally and suddenly Sirius's attention was all back on him.

"Something wrong, Moony?" he asked. And they both nearly smiled. 

Everything, he wanted to say, that I kind of hate you right now. That I want to hate you right now. That this makes anything but sense to me and you don't even seem to be phased by it. That you said it'd be fine. That I can't talk to anyone about it. That I feel sick thinking about what we did, and even worse when I can't stop thinking about us doing it again. That the next full moon is in a week and we're complicating things. That if I change my mind you won't be there.

He grimaced and stiffened his lips into a hard, thin line.

"Your teapot is running away," he said, and at that moment, he thought they had been the most difficult words he had ever had to speak.

--

Sirius whispered his name as he slipped through his curtains that night. He looked up but said nothing, the moonlight sinking into the harsh cut of Sirius's jaw made him finish it before it was over. And he smiled.

Sirius didn't say anything as he lifted himself onto Remus's bed and clamped their mouths together in a clash of aching teeth and chapped lips. Arms tangled clumsily around shoulders and waists and hips. Remus caught the tip of Sirius's tongue between his teeth and shivers spread like fingers down his spine at the moan that received. He could feel it shuddering through his mouth and his nails dug in. And his fists clenched. And his body trembled.

"_Sirius_," he gasped, jutting his hips upwards, "_Oh god--!_" 

His knees jerked as Sirius pushed down onto him and thin pyjama pants felt overdressed.

"_Just -- experimenting --_" Sirius stuttered against his neck and Remus felt himself unable to do anything but nod.

A thick wave of nausea buried itself in the bottom of his stomach as he carded his fingers through Sirius's hair, tugging him down -- down -- _down_. Yet all he could do was nod. Just nod. And it was alright.

--

Two months and it was still awkward. Two months and he still didn't know what to say. They had no problem when they were with the others, when Peter and James were entertaining them or even just spitting out speeches or conversation or laughter. They didn't even have that much of a problem when they were alone - talking came easy anough, anyway, but it was the silences between the words that Remus couldn't handle. The things he wanted to interject. The harsh breathing and the too-quick humour. It was smothering and free all at once. And Sirius still didn't so much as shrug over the tension.

"Are you okay?" Lily asked him one day as he pushed himself through the door into the common room. He was worn and aching in every place beneath the skin and the near constant bags under his eyes made him avoid looking in the mirror most of the time. But the storm pounding in his ears is what made it hurt. Made it stick.

"Yeah," he smiled, and nodded, and she looked relieved, "Yeah, I'm fine."

He liked the moments when James wasn't around sometimes, and a sliver of guilt caught him just below the chest everytime he thought of it. But when Lily would come over and talk to him like a friend, like a whole different person, rather than having to avoid the whole fiasco facing the weight of James's total adoration of her. He'd find it overwhelming too. He did.

"You just look a bit under the weather," she said, and he noticed she looked a little tired too. He thought to ask if she was okay, if she was fine, but the way she held herself with her back arched painfully into a straight line, he thought he should leave it until she was ready.

"I promise, I'm fine," Remus answered again and she left it, by the look on her face - thoroughly unsatisfied, but she left it and he was grateful.

"I was wondering," she mumbled, which Remus found odd since Lily Evans never mumbled to anyone but her friends when bad mouthing James behind their hands, and she hated doing it too. But they expected it. And Remus partially understood. Enough, anyway.

He glanced at her anxiously. 

"Well," she started, "My friend from Ravenclaw, Amy? She's taken a bit of a liking to you and I was wondering if perhaps you would be interested in --" she paused, "going to Hogsmeade with her, next trip?"

And Remus was treading in foreign ground and his stomach ached and his eyes hurt all over again.

"I --" he stammered, as a new wave of nausea rushed up his throat; "I'm seeing someone." 

Lily looked at him sceptically but didn't say anything. He looked back just as hard and begged her not to in his head. She nodded, thankfully, apologised and said she wouldn't mention a word of it to Amy. Or to anyone else. Remus smiled, muttered, "I'm definitely fine though," to her as she turned to leave, "I'm really fine!" before heading up the steps to the dorms.

An hour later when Sirius paraded in with a girl on his arm, Remus regretted everything he'd never said in that conversation and wondered if Amy could make it easier before his heart took over and he realised he could never let someone else feel the way he did right then.

He climbed onto his bed, closed the curtains and wished himself to sleep.

He could hear every single noise.

And he couldn't help but think about how he hated Sirius so much for more making him feel so utterly worthless.

--

"How's -- whatshername?" Remus groaned as Sirius's tongue caught the shell of his ear in a careful nip. His neck craned back onto the pillow and Sirius stilled.

"Katie. And she's fine." he said rather stiffly, his erection pushing up against Remus's thigh; "She's --"

"Not male," Remus finished for him as he wound his arms tightly around Sirius's hips. And all Sirius did was nod. Remus nodded in reply and their eyes met in an angry twist of colour amongst the dark.

They collapsed into heavy arms before it even really started.

"Remus," Sirius whispered roughly, "Remus -- I --"

But he wasn't having any of it. His teeth snarled into a thick grimace as he crushed their lips like their hips and they both cried out.

"_Don't -- say -- anything --_" Remus panted, his knees locking over Sirius's stomach and twisting to pin him against the bed rather forcefully. Bruises stung against his ribs and his heart whimpered, echoing through his head. He leant down and forced his tongue past Sirius's teeth. His hand tore away beneath his pyjama pants and it was all suddenly so much different. So much more.

"_Don't -- say -- a word--_" he repeated. And there was nothing but clumsy breathing and sharp limbs until morning.

--

Remus didn't realise he was, in fact, in love with him until Sirius came to him, saying they needed to break it off. He wondered if James had found out, or even Peter. Or maybe someone lower down the school who, whilst less likely to be a threat or to tell, could still do some damage if they wanted. Still held something on them both and Sirius always hated that.

"I just need some time to think," Sirius had said, though. And Remus hadn't wanted to hear another word.

"What is there to think about?" he'd spat out before he could stop himself and felt his cheeks flush and his throat ache. He sat down next to Sirius on the bed and wrung his hands together tightly.

Sirius glanced at him, looked at him, his eyes sighed at just the right time and Remus bit his lip.

"I don't know," Sirius muttered, taken aback, "I just -- I need to okay? I thought you'd be okay with this."

And Remus didn't hate him then. He looked every bit as awkward as he had felt for the past year. Every bit as down. And nauseous. And absolutely terrible. And as much as he wanted to, he couldn't hate him.

"Yeah. 'Just experimenting' right?" Remus said darkly. And neither of them spoke after that until James and Peter walked into the room and invited them down for a game of gobstones. 

Remus politely declined, mustering all of the energy he could to not yell and scream at them just to get it out. To get it away from his chest. His head. But he smiled and buried himself in pillows and books and dark lights.

Sirius didn't say anything but the echoes of two sets of footsteps descending back down the stairs told Remus he hadn't gone either. His breath caught in his throat and he almost winced as he heard the loud crash of something hitting the wall.

And he realised then he wasn't the only one hurting. 

--

It was Remus who went to his bed this time, and it was long past midnight. Part of him hoped for Sirius to be sleeping, with damp breathing and messy hair and neglected blankets. But as he stuck his head cautiously through the curtains and Sirius was sitting cross legged on his bed looking utterfly defeated, he changed his mind.

He opened his mouth to ask if he was okay when the question died in his throat at the look behind Sirius's eyes and, instead, he just climbed under the covers, wrapped his arms around him and held him tight. Sirius went rigid at first and his shoulders ached and his jaw was locked still.

He was only mildly surprised when a few moments later his whole body shook and suddenly Sirius was clinging back and his hands were everywhere. And his face was buried against Remus's neck. Against his shoulder.

Neither of them said anything. Neither of them wanted to. Except a million questions were raised inside Remus's head but it was enough for now. He pressed a kiss to the top of Sirius's head and he knew he had felt it when he clung even harder.

He wondered if he'd underestimated him all along.

As soon as he heard the word Regulus, however, nothing was enough.

_"Just experimenting,"_ he muttered to himself and his heart ached at the absolutely broken boy falling apart beneath him.

--

It was three months before Sirius crawled back into bed with him in the middle of the night and he almost smiled. Remus put his book down, turning over the corner on his page and neither of them said anything again.

Sirius kissed him first. And then it all melted away back into something familiar. His chest tightened so much when Sirius's fingers draped over his lips that he almost cried out. But, instead, his hands wrapped around the back of Sirius's neck and he felt them both shiver.

"Just experimenting," he whispered as his hands nimbly slid his shirt over his head. As he tiled his neck. As he whimpered his name. And as he pressed hips to hips to hearts. Remus gasped.

Sirius didn't answer right away. Sirius didn't answer at all. Their hands met under pressed sheets in the dark and their fingers gripped on so hard. Damp skin and shaking bones. And somewhere, somehow, it was perfect.

"Remus --" he tore out past breathing, "I -- just--"

They both nodded. And they both grappled and gagged and moaned and hissed. Sirius felt pyjama pants were overdressed then too as he slid his fingers sharply down the front of Remus's and jerked his wrist hastily. They were both coated in sex and sweat and shadows and moonlight. And it was the best feeling in the world, Remus thought, it had to be. He made grabbing motions at the waistband of Sirius's boxers and tugged him right up against him with one forceful pull and they were alright. This was alright.

"Remus -- oh -- ohhh --" Sirius growled past tight teeth again, "Just -- just --"

"Experimenting --" Remus finished for him and he shook his head.

"Just --" he hissed as his knuckles brushed against Remus's through thin cotton, as shoulders knocked and backs arched and necks slicked with need, "Just -- us --"

And it really was alright.

"Just -- us" Remus confirmed with a smile.

And whilst it might not be love, he thought to himself the next morning, tangled between sheets and skin and hands and kisses, it was getting there.

It was getting there.


End file.
