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Lunaticus Book Three: New Moon Rising	By : JBankai89 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Remus Views: 12599 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, I gain nothing from this but a way to pass the time.

Chapter List
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A/N: Oooh, we're almost there, just 10 chapters and the epilogue to go! Next update will be October 5^th. This is probably one of my favourite chapters in the whole fic, so I hope you guys enjoy it :)
Chapter Thirty-One – To Be Loved

As the weeks passed and September gave way to October, Harry and Remus fell into a comfortable routine.

The couple would wake in the mornings and breakfast together, then Harry would head off to the pack for the day, and Remus would go to the Ministry. In the evenings, they'd meet back up at the cottage for dinner, and spend the night together.

Of course, this arrangement was not without its problems.

In spending his time at the pack's territory without Remus around, even with his scent clinging to Harry like a heavy perfume, it had not deterred overly keen dominants from trying their luck with him. Many of them had not learned from his altercation with Silas to not try anything, nor did they learn their lesson when Harry would respond to their advances in true werewolf fashion—with violence.

Harry was more than a little proud of this fact; he was quite certain that at least four or five doms were now waddling around the territory with ice packs affixed to their bollocks as they radiated embarrassment for allowing a sub to get the better of them. More amusing still was both Ulrich and Greyback's complete and total lack of sympathy towards the doms when it happened.

“He said no, and you didn't listen,” Harry had heard Greyback reply gruffly on more than one occasion. “You have no one to blame but yourself. Get back to work.”

The whining dominant would then hobble off, muttering obscenities under their breath as they went.

The only upside to this was the fact that it drove Remus to re-stake his claim on Harry in the most delightful of ways, usually in the form of snogging Harry senseless against their front door. More than once it came very close to more than that, but both of them were wary of having sex too soon. After all that had happened between them, both Harry and Remus were equally petrified of mucking things up, which led to them being more than a little over-cautious where their personal lives were concerned.

And with another full moon on its way, that made things extra complicated.

Harry arrived home with a scowl on his face late one evening, and when he saw Remus standing at the door waiting for him, he did not hesitate to hurry forward and roughly grab the front of his cardigan to drag him into a kiss.

Startled by Harry's actions, Remus let out a small squawk of surprise when the sub pulled him into the kiss. It was quelled almost at once however as his arms fell to Harry's waist to draw him closer.

“Well, I suppose it's safe to say that you're happy to be home,” Remus remarked, and arched a brow at him as they broke the kiss. Harry smiled, and arched up to kiss him again.

“Happy to be somewhere where I won't get manhandled by dominants who think I'm on the market, more like,” Harry replied as he wrinkled his nose a little. At the same time, Remus bowed his head forward, and began to brush Harry's jaw and throat with feather-light kisses, the gentle touch making him shiver with desire.

“And how do you know I won't manhandle you?” Remus teased, one of his hands dropping to Harry's arse, and a wide grin spread across Harry's face as he pressed back into the intimate touch.

“Oh, I definitely wouldn't mind if you manhandled me,” Harry clarified, “I just don't want dominants I don't know doing it.”

“Hmm, good news for me...” Remus shifted in order to kiss Harry properly, and Harry happily returned it, his hands moving to bury themselves in Remus's hair as they snogged like a pair of teenagers, the impending full moon dictating their actions much more than their common sense at the moment.

Harry's stomach gave a sudden, audible gurgle, and he felt himself go very red as Remus chuckled.

“Hungry, are we?”

“I might be a little peckish...” Harry mumbled, and let out a small groan of longing as Remus stepped back and rested a hand against his spine.

“Come on,” he said, “allow me the honour of feeding you, then we can resume this delightful...conversation.”

Grinning, Harry allowed himself to be led inside.

After being subject to Remus's fantastic cooking, they retired to the sitting room and curled up together as they nursed cups of tea. Harry was feeling almost uncomfortably full after their rich meal, and as they both relaxed, Harry's thoughts turned to the impending moon.

“Remus?” Harry asked hesitantly, and felt strangely as though he'd been put under a spotlight when Remus cast his gaze towards him.

“Hmm?”

“Erm...what...I mean, d'you—d'you think that if Ulrich picks a fight with you under the moon...what'll happen?” Harry grimaced at the awkward phrasing, and tried again when Remus's eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I mean, the first moon you had with us you sort of...went after Ulrich and lost. Ulrich told me about how if you'd won, you would've been free to court me. What if the reverse happens?”

Harry did not miss the way Remus's arm tensed around him, or the way his lip twitched, as though it longed to curl back in a snarl every time Harry said Ulrich's name. Harry pressed his lips together, uncertain how to react. He wanted to maintain a friendship with Ulrich, but now, he began to wonder if that would even be possible, with the two dominants being so jealous at the mere mention of the other.

Remus's arm coiled more securely around Harry, and he did not speak for a long moment. He set aside his half-empty teacup with a heavy sigh, and propped his chin against the top of Harry's head, in what felt like a semi-unconscious display of claim, despite the fact that they were alone. He coiled his other arm around Harry's waist, and held him close.

“Honestly, Harry, I have no idea,” Remus replied, and heaved another small sigh. “It's one of those times where I wish I knew more about werewolf pack culture, and had not fought so hard against it in my youth. I think it's entirely possible that he may confront me over you, and though I have no intention to fight with him, in our wolf states, I may have no choice.”

“I hate being fought over like...like a toy, or a piece of meat, or something...” Harry mumbled, and Remus squeezed him gently.

“I know that you do, and I'm sorry that you have to get stuck in between us like this,” Remus replied softly, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “I'll do what I can to avoid a confrontation, but I can't make any promises.”

Harry shifted, and Remus loosened his grip as though to let him go, but a look of surprise crossed his face when Harry moved to perch in his lap after he set his teacup down next to Remus's.

He leant in and kissed Remus soundly. Harry felt the older man tremble beneath him, and shifted to adjust his grip, holding Harry close, firmly, but tenderly, as though afraid that he might suddenly vanish into thin air.

“I'm so proud of you,” Harry whispered as he pulled back for a breath, and kissed him again.

“Why—why are you proud of me?” Remus asked softly, pausing in their feverish snogging to look up at Harry with the now-familiar look of reverence upon his face. Harry felt the colour rise in his cheeks as he looked back at him, but he smiled as he reached down to brush his fingertips along Remus's cheek.

“You're just...you've changed so much since...that day, you know, when everything started. From good to...well, bad, and back to good again. And it wasn't a completely selfish reason that made you fix yourself, you saw that you did wrong, and you made yourself change. Most people don't like to acknowledge their faults like that, but you did.”

“I was ashamed of who I had become,” Remus admitted as he bowed his head a little, “I no longer recognized myself. Who I had been and who I was...it was like looking at two different people. Looking back, I'm almost glad that you left me. It was painful, yes, but it would have been worse if we had stayed together. Likely, I would have gotten worse, not seeing what I was doing as wrong or hurtful. Your strength saved me, Harry.”

Overwhelmed and at a loss for what to say, Harry leant forward and kissed him. Remus returned it, and Harry shivered with longing.

“Don't sell yourself short,” Harry replied between kisses, “you saved yourself. You could have easily just spiralled into this...I dunno, this desperate sort of need for me, and then things would be even more fucked up. Instead, you took a step back, and you did the right thing. Maybe it took you a little while to get there, but in the end, you did, and that's what counts.”

Remus beamed at him, visibly overwhelmed with the sentiment, and he pulled Harry in for another warm, impassioned kiss.

“Remus...” Harry whispered his name as he pulled back, their lips clinging together a little from their intense kissing, and it seemed to take a moment for it to register with Remus that Harry had spoken.

“Yes, Harry?” he queried, and Harry bit his lip.

Could he say it?

Was it time?

Harry took a small breath to steady himself, and took the proverbial plunge.

“Will you...I mean, er...” Harry felt his face flood with colour as he forced himself to continue. “Would you...make love to me?”

Remus's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but it was quickly replaced by a warm, joyous smile.

“I would be honoured to make love to you,” Remus murmured as he leant forward to peck Harry's lips in a small kiss. “I must first ask however what about that request is causing you to turn such a charming shade of red,” Remus remarked, and Harry laughed a little, though his flush was slow to fade.

“It's just...it sounds so...corny. Like something out of a romance novel,” Harry admitted as he looked away from him. “I mean, fuck me sounds too crass for what I want, and have sex with me too clinical, so I—”

Remus cut off Harry's rambling explanation with a kiss, and Harry immediately wrapped his arms more securely around Remus's neck as he returned it, their lips parting and their tongues twining together immediately, and Harry shivered as he felt Remus's fingers snake upwards to tangle in his hair.

“Oh, Harry...” Remus murmured as they broke apart, “it feels like years since we last did this. Let's do it right, shall we? Come on, up you get.”

Harry let out a small, discontented whine as he untangled himself from Remus and stood up, closely followed by his dominant.

Hand in hand, they hastened to the bedroom, teacups forgotten.

After they crossed into the tiny space, Harry made a beeline for the bed, but Remus stopped him in the centre of the room. Harry turned to him, eyebrow arched in question, while Remus reached out to brush his hand against Harry's cheek, before he leant in for a light kiss.

“Let me do this properly,” Remus murmured against Harry's mouth, “let me worship you.”

Harry felt the colour begin to rise in his cheeks again, and he could not manage anything more than a small, meek nod. Remus smiled, and kissed him.

The kisses were sweet and tender, with just enough heat to make Harry feel weak in the knees. Remus's hands trailed slowly down to the hem of Harry's jumper, and with the same snail's pace, he peeled the garment off.

Harry lifted his arms to help him along, and after the jumper had been discarded, his fingers immediately fell to the buttons on Remus's cardigan. Gently, Remus pried Harry's hand away while he offered him a warm smile, and shed the article for him.

Remus closed the distance between them again, his lips falling on the corner of Harry's mouth, his stubble tickling his cheek as he trailed light kisses along the sub's jaw and down his throat. He stopped just above Harry's pulse point, where he nipped and suckled at the flesh, just hard enough to indicate to Harry that there would be a mark there in the morning, but he didn't care.

On the contrary, Harry found himself getting excited by the idea of being marked up by his mate. Everyone would finally know that he was taken, and there would be absolutely no more room for debate amongst the pack dominants who seemed incapable of taking a hint.

Remus relieved Harry of the T-shirt that he'd been wearing beneath the jumper, and Harry returned the favour, moving to unbutton the shirt Remus was wearing. Again, his hands were removed, and Remus did it for him.

“I want tonight to be about you,” Remus explained gently, “I want...I want to deserve you.”

“Remus,” Harry said, a lump forming in his throat at the words, and he bit the inside of his cheek in an effort to control his raging emotions, “you already deserve me.”

“Oh, Harry,” he replied with a chuckle, “if only.”

He shed the shirt, and Harry unabashedly drank in the sight of Remus's chest littered with scars, with a fair trail of hairs going from his navel to the top of his corduroy trousers. To Harry, everything about the sight of Remus was simply beautiful.

Remus took Harry by his hands and led him to the bed. Harry followed his lead sat down on the edge, not completely certain what the older man was up to, and shivered a little when Remus knelt between his thighs and began to bestow more kisses upon his chest, leaving a trail of tender love bites in his wake.

This action felt strangely familiar to Harry. A distant foggy memory threatened to surface at the back of his mind—the incident—but miraculously, despite the parallels between the two scenarios, Harry found no anguish in this present act. Harry pushed the memory away.

Remus tended to him slowly, pausing to press a kiss upon every scar that he saw, and Harry felt as though his heart may burst out of his chest from the experience. It was so overwhelming, this love that he felt, but in the best possible way.

The dominant paused to tend to Harry's nipples, teasing the tiny, blushing buds with his tongue and teeth, causing Harry to keen with desire and arch his back in an obvious hint. Remus did not spend long on them, nor did he stop to remark on Harry's reaction, but instead continued his trek down his chest, across his abdomen, and stopped only when he reached the waistband of Harry's jeans. He looked up.

“May I?” he asked softly as he pressed a hand against the short trail of buttons, and Harry almost moaned aloud.

“Yes,” Harry replied at once, and Remus chuckled as he flicked open the buttons one by one, then hooked his fingers through both the waistband of his jeans and pants to pull both garments off at the same time.

Harry lifted himself off the bed to help Remus along, and felt himself flush again when Remus even peeled off his socks for him. He knew Remus wanted to do it, this worshipping thing that he seemed so keen on, but Harry had to admit that it did feel a little strange.

He jumped a little in surprise when Remus cradled his right foot in his hands, and the limb twitched when he kissed the top of it.

“Remus—don't—my feet probably stink...” Harry protested weakly, and Remus paused what he was doing, and leant up to kiss him, a reverberating chuckle running through the older man as he did so.

“Nonsense, you're beautiful,” he murmured, and Harry felt his face colour again.

“Beauty and body odour aren't exactly parallel, you know,” he replied, and Remus chuckled again, but did not respond as he went back to what he was doing. He skipped over Harry's feet this time as he ran his hands over the backs of Harry's calves, making them twitch from the gentle, tickling touch. Slowly, he kissed his way up the limbs and over his thighs, until he finally reached Harry's straining erection.

A bead of precum clung to the tip of his cock, and Harry shivered as Remus ran his hands so lightly over it that it felt like the ghost of a touch. Harry keened a little as he arched his hips, and Remus happily obliged to his silent request.

Remus's hot, wet mouth closed over the tip of his cock, and Harry's eyes rolled up in his head as he let out a moan. It grew in volume when one of the hands that was idly resting against Harry's thigh moved to play with his balls while Remus slowly swallowed him to the root, his throat convulsing ever so slightly around the organ.

“Remus...” Harry moaned, “s-so good...”

Remus did not stop to respond, but kept moving, bobbing his head and caressing the underside of Harry's cock with his tongue, sending the sub into an obscuring fog of pleasure.

When Harry found his climax, his head seemed to pound as he choked out a cry, his vision went momentarily white, and nothing existed for him but that solitary moment of pleasure. He groaned and trembled, and never in his life could he recall feeling an orgasm this intense or all-encompassing.

As the world slowly filtered back to him, Harry collapsed, boneless, onto the bed.

Remus, licking his lips in an exaggerated manner like a cat with a bowl of cream, moved up to join him. The couple shifted until they were lying on the bed properly, with Harry's head pillowed on Remus's bicep while the older man stroked his hair as he came down from his orgasmic high.

“That was...amazing,” Harry breathed, still panting a little, “but...you didn't get off...”

“Tonight was about you,” Remus murmured, and leant in to press a kiss against his temple. “I wanted to do as you asked, and make love to you. You're young, I'm quite certain you'll be up for another round before long, and then I'll truly do as you requested, and make love to you.”

Harry felt his flush rise again at the wording, still mildly embarrassed that he'd actually said such a thing. In contrast, Remus did not seem to share his embarrassment as he lay there, gazing at Harry as though he were some sort of artistic masterpiece, apparently quite content to take his time tonight, and wring Harry dry in the process—in the best possible way.

Remus's hand was splayed across Harry's chest as they lay there, not really speaking, but basking in the afterglow, and in that time Remus's considerable bulge in his trousers did not dim at all. As Harry lay there, occasionally sharing a light kiss with Remus, he felt an inexplicable urge to weep, though he couldn't fathom what had sparked the reaction.

When Harry next arched up to kiss Remus, he understood.

It was joy.

This was what he was supposed to feel.

He had found it—finally.

Harry reached up to brush his hand across Remus's cheek. The light stubble tickled Harry's palm, and gently, he coaxed Remus into a kiss.

“I love you, Remus,” Harry said softly, and Remus beamed down at him.

“I love you too, Harry, so...so much.”

Remus kissed him again, more insistently this time, and Harry relaxed against the bed as the older man took control of the kiss.

It was leaps and bounds different from how he would have assumed control before. Harry could all but taste the difference, and the submissive wolf part of his mind revelled in it. It was gentle and tender, not forceful, and the dominance he exuded made Harry feel safe and taken care of, not forced or otherwise manipulated.

Harry moaned when one of Remus's hands trailed down his front and began to stroke his cock. He arched into the touch, and it did not take much for Harry's arousal to rekindle itself, and soon he was at full mast again.

“Please,” Harry murmured, and reached for Remus, “please, I want to see you...” he tugged insistently upon the waistband of Remus's trousers, and the older man chuckled a little at Harry.

“Then see me,” Remus murmured, and both of them smiled warmly in memory. At last, thoughts of his past with Remus no longer hurt.

Harry could not properly reach Remus's trousers from where he lay, but the older man made up for this by tugging the garment down, exposing himself to Harry fully. Harry felt a swell of both arousal and affection for him as Remus tossed the last article of clothing aside. He then leant back up to kiss Harry once before he reached for the bedside table, and opened the drawer to extract a small jar of lubricant.

Harry bit his lip as he lay there, watching as Remus unscrewed the lid, dipped his fingers in, and then looked back up at Harry with a small smile. He rubbed the substance between his fingers, and Harry shifted his position upon the bed, and opened his legs to expose himself to his dominant completely.

Remus did not wait, and immediately moved forward to brush his fingers over Harry's exposed arsehole, and the sub tensed.

“Do you want me to stop?” Remus asked as he froze his movements, and Harry laughed out loud.

“No, no way,” he said quickly, “it's just that the lube is cold...”

“It'll heat up, don't worry,” Remus replied with a soft chuckle, and arched up to kiss Harry once before he went back to what he was doing.

Remus circled Harry's hole with his fingers, spreading out the lubricant as he went, then very slowly he breached Harry's entrance with a single finger, eliciting a soft groan from the younger man.

Remus chuckled again, this time Harry supposed it was in relation to how receptive he was to a single finger being inserted into his arse. Remus was quick to add a second, and thrust them in and out at an almost infuriatingly slow pace, while Harry rocked his hips in time with Remus's gentle thrusts.

When Remus deemed Harry sufficiently prepared, he removed his fingers and spelled them clean before he slicked up his own cock and gently took hold of Harry's thighs. Harry followed his lead and wrapped his legs around his dominant's waist, his ankles locking together at the base of Remus's spine.

Remus positioned himself, and very slowly slid into him. Harry's back arched as he let out another groan of pleasure at the sensation. To Harry, it felt like it went well beyond the simple act of sex, their actions spurred onward by the impending moon's influence over them, and onto something greater. As Remus fully sheathed himself inside of him, Harry had never in his life felt so complete. He blinked back joyous tears, and pulled Remus down for a kiss, which his dominant happily returned.

Their mouths still locked together, Remus began to move.

His hands tightly gripped Harry's hips in order to keep himself balanced, and Harry moved in tandem with him without effort, like two parts of a well-oiled machine. Soft keens of pleasure escaped from Harry, and small grunts from Remus were the only sounds that permeated the silence. They both moved forward to kiss in perfect sync, their breath tickling each other's lips, almost as though reading the other's mind as to what they needed in that exact moment, and laughed softly before their mouths sealed together.

Remus groaned one final time, and buried his face in the hollow of Harry's throat, biting the flesh he found there, though not hard enough to break the skin. At the same instance, Harry felt his arse fill with Remus's hot seed, and he moaned, arching up to rub his own cock against Remus's abdomen. Remus got the hint and stroked him to orgasm, and for the second time that evening, Harry came with a short cry.

The pair were frozen, locked together in their post-coital bliss, panting hard as they came down from their respective orgasms. Harry once more felt that blinding, perfect moment of pleasure, and as the world slowly came back to them, he felt Remus's softening cock slide from his arse, and Remus grabbed his wand from his discarded trousers to clean them up of their respective messes before he set it aside, lay next to Harry, and drew him close.

Harry rolled over into the embrace and pressed his cheek to Remus's chest, his eyes shut.

“How do you feel?” Remus asked in a voice just barely above a whisper, and Harry smiled.

“Perfect. I feel...this was perfect,” he repeated the word, and he couldn't stop smiling. Looking back, Harry could feel as though nothing was out of place. Nothing was missing, and he did not feel simply content; he felt sated, he felt perfect, and he felt as though everything was as it should be. “Thank you, Remus.”

Harry opened his eyes at last and looked up at Remus, and found the older man beaming down at him. He shifted up for a gentle kiss, and a warmth spread through his chest at the simple contact. “And you?”

“I feel as though...everything about this was so...right,” Remus replied, his hold on Harry tightening ever so slightly, and he pressed a kiss to Harry's forehead, just over his scar. “I've never felt so right with someone before you. Everything about this was...” Remus trailed off, and Harry pressed a hand to his chest as he tried to shift closer, despite the fact that he was already more or less squished against Remus's chest. Remus tugged out the duvet from under them, draped it over their naked bodies, and the soft cotton gently clung to their damp skin.

“I think the best part of all this is that when the moon comes...now everyone will know to whom I belong,” Harry murmured, and Remus seemed to start slightly at the phrasing.

“I thought you didn't like being referred to as an object?” he asked, and Harry chuckled softly.

“I don't,” Harry confirmed, and shifted again so that he could look up at Remus comfortably. “But it's you, so I'm willing to make an exception.”
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Lunaticus Book Three: New Moon Rising