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Happy Alone	By : tarredglittered Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Remus/Sirius Views: 2763 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Happy Alone
- 1
Title: Happy Alone

Author: K M B

Rating: R

Warnings: none

Summary: Remus can�t say no. Neither can Sirius.

A/N: Remus might be OOC. For that matter, Sirius might be OOC. Concrit appreciated!

Prompt: Rentboy AU - "Under the deep red lights, I can see the make-up sliding down." Written for the Springkink community on Livejournal.

Disclaimer: Rowling�s. Only borrowing for a moment.

Soundtrack: Led Zeppelin; "Maps," Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Remus sat on the closed seat of the toilet in the small bathroom, hands on either side of his face, elbows on his knees. He was trapped, though, in that small rectangular cubicle, trapped by his own insecurities, by his own vicious mind whispering hateful things to him. Things such as:

"You know he had to be disgusted by what he saw. What were you thinking?"

And:

"He�s probably robbing you blind while you hide here in this bathroom. You�re the most pathetic person that ever lived."

Luckily, a rapping on the closed door interrupted his self-deprecating inner monologue. Glancing up in surprise, Remus hesitated a moment before calling out cautiously, "Come in."
The door was opened, and there, leaning against the frame as if it were white pressboard and he melted chocolate, was him. The man Remus picked up on a whim that night because he looked so pretty, somehow, under the sharp yellow glow of the streetlights, his makeup expertly applied. The man had an animalistic grace that Remus was instantly attracted to, and when he named his price Remus couldn�t refuse it, even if he also couldn�t really afford it. The prostitute had followed him home and taken his mouth with his own right after Remus had set Houses of the Holy by Led Zeppelin to play on the record player.
He was in the bathroom by the time D'yer mak'er was halfway over, and he swore Robert Plant was peering straight into his heart at that moment.
"Hey," said the chocolate-turned-prostitute barely two meters from Remus, combing out his hair with one casual, fine-boned hand. "Mind if I use the loo?"
Remus shook his head a little more roughly than he probably should have, trying to shake himself out of his self-induced melancholy. "No, not a problem." Getting up from the toilet, Remus let the man slide past him and then hesitated at the door. "I, uh, we never exchanged names."
Sirius unzipped. "No, we didn�t," he said, his foglighted eyes landing steady on Remus, one delicate eyebrow raising as if he was surprised his john would even desire such a thing. Normally, formalities such as were left abandoned for more appropriate occasions.
"I�m Remus," came the tentative reply, accompanied by much shuffling and averted eyes as Sirius finished up and flushed.
"I�m the man who took you down whole and swallowed," Sirius said matter-of-fact as he approached Remus, who was barring the doorway. He smiled in a benign, mollifying way. "Now, are you planning on keeping me prisoner here or am I free to go?"
"Hey." With a sudden boldness, Remus took a step forward and touched Sirius�s elbow, his gaze only faltering a little bit before it remained steadily trained on his face. "Stay the night?"
Sirius didn�t answer immediately, and when he did, it came out sounding like something he did not want at all to say. "You can�t afford me, mate."
Shame washed over Remus like something hot and wet, and he turned away with an abrupt, jerky motion, letting go of Sirius as if he didn�t want to touch him. Truthfully, Remus felt as if had lost the right to do so. "The money�s on the bureau," he said tersely, staring fiercely where the tile of the bathroom floor curved upward to meet the wall. The only answer he received was the sound of his loft door opening and closing a moment later.

**
Soft, full lips on his. That was the first thing Remus had become aware of; second was the obvious weight of another man on top of him. A hand in his hair, cradling his skull in the gentlest of touches, holding him like something dear. Remus should have been alarmed to be awoken this way, but instinct took over and he kissed back, already aroused. His own hands, free at his sides, rose to tangle in soft, slightly dirty long hair. He knew without opening his eyes whom exactly was lying atop of him, even if they had met only once just a few nights before.
A muffled sound brought Remus coursing back to reality, however, as did the hotter-than-warm wetness he felt transported onto his own face. Then, he tasted the coppery tang that only blood could lend. Pushing Sirius back, Remus searched his face in the warm glow of the neon sign just outside his loft window. Under the deep red lights, he could see the makeup sliding down, thick black lines of mascara and eyeliner and who knew what else tracking the tears as they bled down the man�s colorfully bruised face like some sort of oil painting gone awry. And the coupe de gr�ce�the small smudge of darkness at the corner of his mouth, likely mirrored on Remus now because its flavor was on his tongue. Remus�s eyes widened; his breath caught. Never before had tragedy looked so beautiful.
"Are you okay?" Remus asked after a (pregnant, birthed, congratulations, it�s a boy!) pause.
Sirius didn�t answer, and instead leant back down to lick at Remus�s mouth with an urgency bordering on desperation. Remus returned the kiss�for a moment�then drew back. "Please, speak to me�tell me what is going on."
Sirius�s mouth worked, as if there were too many words wanting to come out at once, but none knew which should go first, or at all. Squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head, Sirius leant back again, sitting up, effectively straddling Remus underneath him, and pressed his hands to his face in a gesture a tired person would use. He spoke, but the words came out muffled. Remus strained to understand them, but he couldn�t make anything out. "I�m sorry?"
"You asked for my name, Remus! You weren�t supposed to do that!" Sirius burst forth with, his fingers flattening the flesh of his cheeks against the bone, rubbing downward hard. One hand hooked under his chin, and his pinkie brushed over his own arrogantly shaped lips before Sirius leant forward, that same hand reaching out and thumbing Remus�s bottom lip down. "Nobody�s supposed to show concern for a whore."
Confusion must have shown plain on Remus�s face, because next Sirius bent down and ran a path of kisses along his jaw, soft and wet and insistent lips melting any reservations Remus might have had about the situation. "Look, I�ll be fine. Just let me�. I promise you this isn�t a pity fuck." The words were whispered hot and sweet against Remus�s cheek as fingers suddenly found their way inside the waistband of the threadbare pants Remus had thrown on for bed. Remus, a dozen questions on the tip of his tongue, number one being just how this prostitute had gotten into his loft in the first place, let his head fall back to his pillow and moaned instead.
He found it was all too easy to submit.
The softness of hands on skin, on bone and muscle, too, made them gasp into each other�s mouths as they made love and for a short space of time, Sirius wasn�t a seasoned hooker and Remus hadn�t bought a piece of fun in order to play pretend. For a moment, they couldn�t stop and that was fine, as Sirius�s head dipped onto Remus�s shoulder, that blackness falling everywhere, blanketing Remus�s vision. Remus suddenly didn�t mind the color black. Remus�s name was whispered against his own skin, and although he couldn�t think of anything hotter, it reminded him of something. Naked, mid-intercourse and panting, Remus pushed his lover back and stared up at him.
"What?" Sirius asked, clearly annoyed at the interruption. He leant down to capture Remus�s mouth in a kiss but was held at bay. An impatient scowl on his face made Remus smile warmly.
"Answer me now," Remus requested, "what is your name?"
Sirius�s face softened, happy that was all that was being asked of him. He leant down again, and this time Remus didn�t stop him. Mouths pressed together, he murmured, "Sirius," before kissing Remus deeply.
Remus made sure to make liberal use of that name.
Soon they were panting in rhythm again, the steady sway of hips, the up and down movement became a healing, comforting sort of hypnosis for both, and suddenly with a cry, it was all over. Wet between them, Remus clung onto Sirius and Sirius was unwilling for him to let go. For the first in a very long time, this act was beautiful to them both.
It wasn�t much later, just when Sirius had begun to doze off, a brown-haired man pinned securely underneath his left arm, that he heard a request for the second time from those thin pink lips. "Stay the night?"
Sirius rolled over and propped himself up on one elbow so he could see Remus better. A smile tugged at his bruised, bloodied mouth, one he couldn�t hide and was mirrored by the man lying next to him, the covers not so much draped over them both as forgotten about halfway up. Sirius leant down and, after careful�and prolonged�deliberation, much to Remus�s chagrin, grinned like a dog. "If you insist."
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Happy Alone