Title: Judas |
Author: Juxian Tang
Beta: Huge thanks and hugs to Fluffyllama, who is a fabulous, fantastic beta
and made this story a million times better than it was! Besides, she is a real
Disclaimer: These characters and places belong to JK Rowling. I am making no
Summary: Soon after James and Lily's death, Sirius comes to Remus
Notes: Now I have to admit that I fucked up. I misunderstood the timeline,
which said that Sirius was sent to Azkaban two weeks after the Halloween. Yes
right, but he was arrested next day. Damn :-( So, see it as AU, if you wish :-)
This story is for Susan
His fingernails, broken,
bitten and dirty, scraped against the glass of the window. The sound, even
through the howling of the wind, was shrill, undeniably clear. Peering in from
the darkness at the circle of orange light cast by a candle, he saw Remus start
and raise his gaze from the book on his lap. His eyes, warm brown, like
polished oak, seemed darker than usual in the pale face, and his gestures as he
pushed longish strands of hair away from his face made Sirius' heart clench.
He leaned against the wall of
the little house, waiting for his heart to stop racing. It was hunger that made
him dizzy and weak, he told himself, hunger and exhaustion. Two rats in three
days were really not enough to sustain him, but he knew he couldn't waste time
In the warmly lit interior of
the house Remus got up from his place, putting the book away carefully. Sirius
saw his fingers tremble a little as if he considered reaching for his wand. He
didn't though, just walked to the door.
"Who's there?" The
voice was soft, slightly worried and so painfully familiar that for a moment
Sirius couldn't speak, his throat closed. He could feel Remus waiting, very
quiet behind the door, and forced himself to respond; to say in a hoarse,
For a moment he thought Remus
wouldn't recognize him, and desperation filled him. Almost at the same moment,
he thought that maybe it would be for the best. Then the door screeched open,
casting a square of warm light on the freezing ground. He stepped into the
light. Remus' eyes were enormous, glittering almost unbearably, and the
expression in them was so intense that Sirius couldn't figure it out, no matter
how he tried.
He attempted to smile but it
didn't come off; his lips felt numb, and he thought the smile would only
frighten Remus. He knew how he looked - unshaven, his hair tangled, and his
clothes torn and stinking; knew that there was this wild look in his eyes that
he couldn't make go away.
The warm air coming from the
house was almost painful, and for the first time in days Sirius realised how
cold he was; icy air blowing through the tears in his robes that had just
recently been quite new. He shivered. Remus stepped back and aside slightly,
leaving the doorway open, and for a moment Sirius almost couldn't believe that
it meant what he thought it did; but his body acted before his mind could stop
him, and he walked in, into the warmth and the sweet, cosy smell. Remus always
smelt warm and cosy; like fruity tea and homemade cookies. His house smelt this
breathed out, and all other words escaped him.
He knew it was wrong to come
here; wrong to put Remus into this position, to endanger him. He knew quite
well that he could be turned away from the doorstep - that Remus might not want
to talk to him, might spit in his face.
But Sirius had still come -
because after all the days that had jumbled for him into an untidy pile of
misery and remorse, of running and chasing, he suddenly felt he couldn't bear
it for one moment longer. Couldn't bear it without a chance to see one more
time how the flickering light reflects in Remus' eyes, turning them almost to
gold. He wanted something - at least this one thing - to last him through the
rest of it.
He didn't want to scare
Remus. He didn't want to hurt him. But he most likely had.
Remus' eyes widened slightly.
Sirius knew it was too little, these words were not enough; a tiny, sane part
of his brain urged him to turn and leave, not make it more difficult for Remus
than it already was. But the warmth of the house was overwhelming, seeping into
Sirius' exhausted body, making him feel wobbly. He'd been holding himself tight
for so long, but now something was crumbling in him.
The ground slid away from
under his feet as he stumbled forward, falling, waiting for the hard floor to
hit him any moment. Then thin, long arms wrapped around him, catching him; he
felt a hard chest supporting his weight, and Remus' smell and warmth were all
around him, wispy light-brown hair tickling his face.
And despite everything he'd
been through over the past few days, it was only this Sirius thought might be
more than he could endure.
whispered, the word hurting his throat. Shudders racked his body, and the arms
wrapped around him tighter; holding, cradling him. "Please don't make me
go, Moony, please. Just for a short while."
He felt one soft, gentle hand
slide over his back, stroking his shoulder-blades.
Padfoot." Remus' breath was warm against Sirius' ear, his voice so
unbearably kind that Sirius felt suddenly that the tight string in his chest,
stretched and stretched since Halloween, would now snap. He didn't know what he
would do, cry or laugh - he'd been able to do neither for days - but he knew if
he started he wouldn't be able to stop. "You don't have to go anywhere.
You can stay."
The palm kept stroking his
back. Maybe crying in Remus' arms would be okay.
The string loosened somewhat,
but Sirius didn't want Remus to stop holding him. He hid his face, ashamed,
against Remus' shoulder - until his belly rumbled, embarrassingly loud. Remus
let him go, pushing him away slightly.
"I'll get some food for
you. You must be starving."
whispered. "All right. But a shower first."
* * *
He sat in the bathtub with
his legs crossed, holding his ankles. His grip was so hard that his fingers
were leaving marks, his knuckles going white. Sirius barely realised it. His
clothes lay on the floor next to the tub, in a heap like a dead, stinking
animal, and he felt sickness rise in his throat at the thought of it.
The water, hot and plentiful,
lashed over his shoulders. He knew it wasn't enough; he should really start
scrubbing, cleaning himself of all the dirt that stuck to his skin. He just
couldn't make himself move. It was pointless anyway; no matter how much he
cleaned himself, it wouldn't change anything. The dirt wouldn't go away. The
water rolled off him, already tainted.
The hollow, sucking cavern in
his chest was spreading, swallowing him entirely. Sirius hunched his shoulders,
clenching his jaws, trying to suppress something, he didn't know what - a howl,
a sob? His eyes behind the closed eyelids burned, the image of the debris on
the floor of the house in Godric's Hollow imprinted on his retinas forever.
There was a shift of air
behind him, and Sirius jerked, turning back abruptly. Remus stood in the
doorway, small stains of pink on his cheeks.
Sirius moved feverishly,
shifting his hand, covering his groin hastily - even though there was nothing
new Remus could see, they had seen each other so many times in the showers at
said, putting the bunch of white soft cloth onto the edge of the tub.
How thin and tired he looks,
Sirius thought, a pang of pain shooting through his chest, making him crouch
instinctively. Those shadows under his eyes, they had not been there when
Sirius had seen him last. But then, it was such a long time - a lifetime - ago.
He looked at the currents of
water swirling around his feet, and his voice was gone again, turned so hoarse
there was almost no sound. He took a mouthful of hot water, swallowing it
hastily, afraid that by the time he would be able to talk there would be no one
to talk to.
But Remus didn't leave, he
stayed leaning against the doorjamb. Sirius could see it out of the corner of
his eye; couldn't bear looking at him fully.
"I didn't…" he
started. "I didn't betray them."
The sound Remus made was
halfway between a gasp and a sigh. Sirius couldn't bring himself to look up, to
search out signs of doubt or anger in Remus' face. His words didn't change
anything anyway; his guilt was enormous and would always be there.
"Yes," Remus said
in a soft, quiet voice that seemed to tear something in Sirius's chest. "I
know. You didn't."
He almost couldn't believe
it; he hadn't dared hope for these words. He didn't expect to be trusted, even
by Remus - especially by Remus, with the memory of the Shrieking Shack still
lingering between them. And no matter how much he had told himself he could
live without Remus' trust, the joy he felt now was overpowering. It was more
than he could stand - just like his grief and his guilt were more than it was
possible to bear.
"But I… I killed them
anyway," he whispered. "As good as killed them."
Remus shifted from one foot
to the other, and Sirius hid his face in one hand, the other still covering his
groin. Despite his guilt, despite his despair - what an animal he was…
something in him still was reacting at Remus' closeness. Remus didn't have to
know; Sirius wouldn't forgive himself for revealing it.
"I couldn't even go to
the funeral," he whispered, half-audibly.
"I was there,"
Remus said. Sirius wanted to know more but couldn't bring himself to ask.
"And the little one,
Harry…" The words were barbs in his throat, hurting it.
Sirius," Remus said approaching him. "He's safe."
He felt Remus coming closer,
as aware of it as one would be of a source of intense heat or light. Part of
him wanted to shrink away, to spare Remus from touching someone so soiled as
him; but a part of him wanted this closeness so desperately that he couldn't
think of avoiding it.
"Let me," Remus
said softly, kneeling at the tub. "You're not doing a very good job of
A thin arm in a frayed
washed-out sweater reached past him, to take the soap, and Sirius shivered, his
teeth chattering. The heat in his groin rose so much that the hand wasn't
enough to hide it, but of course he didn't move it away, and Remus seemed not
to notice. Thin fingers touched his back, running over his shoulders, rubbing
soapy fluid into them.
He couldn't believe it was
happening; he couldn't believe he was experiencing it, so close to complete
joy… something that could feel so wonderful. Remus' hands were warm and soft,
sliding over his shoulder-blades; gripping his shoulders, massaging them,
untangling the knots there.
Please. Please, he thought,
don't you know what you're doing to me? Kneeling like that. So close. With me
naked. But Remus wasn't going away.
He hadn't known he was so
tired and aching but now the awareness was seeping into his body, and Remus'
touch was chasing it away. Sirius wanted to lean into it, to moan in pleasure
and pain but didn't dare, didn't dare to uncurl from over his lap where his
cock was hard and straining.
He couldn't let Remus know.
He had hidden it before, when they were still at Hogwarts - and later, for all
those years. He couldn't bring it up now; Remus didn't deserve that, the time
was just wrong, with him on the run and considered a traitor, and their friends
dead… just wrong.
He knew there probably
wouldn't be a right time for it but he knew just as well that he couldn't think
about it now.
A bottle of shampoo and a
pink fluid scented with peaches, and soft foam covered his hair; Remus' thin,
careful fingers massaging it into his scalp.
"Close your eyes, it'll
sting," Remus said.
Sirius did, content to feel
nothing but Remus' fingers sliding through his hair, shampooing, untangling it.
If there were nothing but these fingers, nothing in the whole world, he would
sit like this forever - he would be a happy man, he would never want it to end.
And then there would be no guilt, no grief, no scalding regret for the wrong
choices and wrongdoings, and Sirius wouldn't be a criminal; wouldn't feel like
Water ran over his shoulders,
washing off the shampoo. He felt Remus touch him again with soapy fingers, on
his chest now.
It was dangerous - too close
to the hand hiding his erection. He jerked away, covering himself, his eyes
snapping open. Remus' face, pale, was calm, the lowered eyelashes hiding his
gaze. He had the longest eyelashes Sirius had ever seen…
I want to kiss your face. The
thought was painful, stabbing like a knife, and he couldn't banish it, no
matter how he tried. The huge honey-brown eyes rose to look at him as he
twisted away, freeing himself from Remus' soapy hands.
"I can finish it
myself." It came out grumpily, awkwardly, not the way he wanted to say it
at all - but Remus just nodded and got up. The sleeves of his sweater and the
front of his pants were dark and soaked with water.
"I'll make something for
you to eat then," he said, and walked to the door. Sirius wanted to stop
him, make him stay - just for a little while longer, just for the chance to
look at his face for longer. But he knew it was for the best.
The door closed, and he hit
the tap, turning the water icy-cold. It made him grit his teeth; it was almost
excruciating in its coldness but it did nothing to his erection. Finally he
gave up, finished washing and got out of the tub.
There was a bathrobe under
the towels but he didn't dare to put it on, instead casting another cleaning
spell on his clothes. It didn't work too well; there was too much dirt on them,
and the fabric was getting thinner - soon it would fall apart under his hands,
if he kept doing that.
At least the clothes hid his
hard-on. He decided not to pay attention to it; it was the only possible way of
dealing with it.
* * *
Remus turned from pouring the
soup for him, his eyes slightly widening and looking mildly reproachful.
"You've put those rags
"I'm sorry." The
giggle that came was half-hysterical. "I hope they don't stink too
There was something close to
upset in Remus' eyes but Sirius couldn't say if it was because of his
inappropriate laugher or something else.
The soup smelt rich and
dizzying; he felt lightheaded again, nearly swayed, but at least this time
Remus didn't have to catch him. There were sandwiches, big ones; white bread
and chicken breast and cucumbers… and cocoa, Sirius could smell cocoa, in a big
mug right next to the plate. For a moment there was nothing else he could think
about but food. Remus had noticed, it seemed.
"Please sit down."
He slid into the place and
grabbed a sandwich. His stomach ached with the need to be filled, and Sirius
barely could control himself not to pounce on the food like a hungry dog. The
soup felt heavenly in his mouth. Remus pushed a strand of soft hair away from
his face, sitting down across the table.
"Won't you eat?"
Sirius asked, swallowing. Salty soup and sweet cocoa mixed in his mouth and it
felt wonderful, shamefully wonderful - he didn't deserve it.
already." The answer was soft, almost apologetic. "It's quite
Yes, it was late. Days and
nights were mixed up for Sirius recently, signifying only that by day he had to
hide and by night he could move on and continue his pursuit.
Remus' thin hands clasped in
a painful, anxious gesture, wringing each other. He has such beautiful hands,
Sirius thought; fingers so thin and long. He remembered Remus' hands - probably
the first thing he'd noticed about him, at the Sorting Feast on his first day
at Hogwarts. Sorted into Gryffindor, and his new housemates eyed him warily; a
Black among them, a cuckoo's egg dropped into their nest. Then the new
first-year walked up to their table, sat down next to him, and a small, thin
hand was extended for Sirius to shake.
"I'm Remus Lupin. Looks
like we'll be classmates from now on."
He remembered those hands as
they clenched on the sheets in the infirmary when Remus found out about Sirius'
prank on Snape with the Shrieking Shack. Remus' usually kind face had been
distorted with anger.
"How could you,
His own stumbling, helpless
words as the realisation of how much he had endangered Remus slammed into him.
"I'm sorry, I didn't
think, I'm sorry…"
He never wanted to hurt
Remus. All he wanted was to make him happy, to make him smile; make his eyes
catch the light when he laughed. He wanted to be as rich as his family was to
give Remus everything he deserved.
All of it was impossible now.
All of it. Remus would never know…
The thought was impossible to
bear, all of a sudden. Sirius couldn't take another mouthful, the food stuck in
his throat. Remus looked at him in concern, as if sensing something was wrong.
Sirius' voice sounded so hoarse he hardly recognised it himself.
"If there was one thing
you could do, Remus… just one thing before everything goes to hell… what would
The gentle face changed
slightly, a shadow flitting over it.
"Save James and Lily, of
Sirius felt blood rushing
into his face in shame. He hadn't thought of that, he'd been so wrapped up in
his own feelings. But he didn't mean it like that; he meant something that
still could be done, that wasn't too late to do.
There were so many regrets in
his life, so many things gone wrong. He didn't know whether he was adding one
more to them.
He got up and moved - and miraculously,
as if knowing what Sirius wanted him to do, Remus got up as well - and as they
stepped aside there was no more table between them. Sirius reached, and Remus
didn't back away from him.
The body in his arms was thin
and rigid, the skin feeling hot even through the wool of the sweater, and Remus
didn't push him away. And it was all Sirius could think about, it was all that
mattered, for a moment.
He covered Remus' mouth with
his, and Remus' lips opened, and there was no barrier to prevent his tongue
from sliding in. He felt the warmth of Remus' mouth and the taste of the tea,
sweet and spicy, and it was Remus in his arms, just like he dreamed about it;
Remus, thin and bony, his hair feathery. The golden eyelashes rose and fell
slowly over eyes dark with dilated pupils.
Time stopped meaning
anything. Sirius thought it could last forever; Remus in his arms, their mouths
joined; even if after that Sirius died from shame, he still couldn't forfeit
this moment. Then Remus' hands rose; not to shove him away, but to pull him
closer, to wrap around him.
Sirius couldn't resist any
more, the unbearable heat in his belly flaring up. His groin slammed forward.
It was wrong and obscene, the way he rubbed against Remus. He had wanted it to
be different, slow and gentle; wanted to show Remus as best he could, to show
how good it could be. But he couldn't bear it, his hands clenched on Remus'
forearms so hard he was leaving bruises - and he thrust and thrust forward,
even as he realised in his shame that Remus wasn't, couldn't be aroused.
But Remus kept holding him,
and his palms stroked Sirius's sides softly, as if he knew; as if he understood
there was no way to stop. Then his hand slid lower, in the way of the blunt,
clumsy thrusting through two layers of clothes; ran lightly just once over the
Sirius froze, a spasm of
almost painful pleasure running through his body - and wetness spread on the
front of his pants.
It was shameful and wrong and
he felt guilty, and yet he couldn't help it. He slumped over Remus' shoulder,
in the ring of supporting arms, and felt Remus keep stroking his back, cradling
him as if he was a small boy crying. Sirius wasn't crying - but maybe at this
moment he was closer to it than ever before.
"I'm s-sorry," he
"It's okay," Remus
whispered against his ear, his warm lips nearly touching Sirius' skin.
"It's okay. I understand."
Sirius shivered. No, he
didn't understand. He probably thought it was because Sirius was on the run,
too lonely for too long, too starved for human touch. He didn't know…
He half-freed himself from
Remus' hugging arms, looking at the pale, serious face.
"It's not like that,
Remus, I…" Remus nodded as if knowing what he wanted to say - but he
didn't, he didn't really. He still held onto Sirius, not quite letting him go.
"I l-love y…"
The wand flicked in Remus'
hands, cleaning him; cleaning the mess he'd made in his pants, interrupting
"I'll make you some more
He wasn't sure he could eat
any more but Remus left him, walked to the kitchen, and Sirius could say
nothing to stop him. He slumped on the chair, clutching the tangled strands of
his hair. His lips still burned with the warmth of Remus' mouth; his body still
felt weak and weightless with pleasure. Even his shame couldn't do anything to
chase away this pleasure.
He hoped Remus wouldn't hate
him for violating him like this. He never knew how Remus would feel about being
with a man. There were some dates, Sirius knew, and knowing that had driven him
insane with jealousy, but he forbade himself to ask anything; even whether they
were girls or men.
The thin figure appeared in
the doorway again, a mug in Remus' hand. He walked up, put it in front of
Sirius. The cocoa smelt almost stunning. He raised his eyes to Remus, seeing
the pale, delicate face and untidy falling brownish hair. Something was
snapping in his mind, something he couldn't control any more.
He got up - and Remus' arms
were again around him. He almost moaned at the acute feeling of joy. Remus'
gentle hand touched his hair, pushing heavy strands away from his face. Maybe…
maybe Remus didn't hate him.
whispered; the flickers of orange light in Remus' eyes were blinding. His
eyelashes fell, covering the eyes, in a wordless nod. And Sirius couldn't be
silent any more, the words breaking out of him. "I wanted it for so long,
I wanted you for so long. Didn't you know? I wanted so many things… I don't
know if we have time for them but if you let me… I want to kiss your throat,
the hollow between your collarbones. I want to kiss your hair, smell it when it
gets moist after sex. I want to kiss your chest, to know how your nipples taste
when they harden under my lips… I want your cock in my mouth, want to run my
tongue down to it over your belly…"
A part of him was still
afraid he was talking nonsense; that he was scaring and shocking Remus. But he
couldn't stop. And there was no shock or rejection in Remus' face - and Sirius
was afraid to believe in it, believe in being accepted. Now, just like that, as
a fugitive; branded as a traitor, and with James and Lily so recently gone.
But Remus' hands kept rubbing
over his arms awkwardly, as if he was eager to do something but didn't know
what exactly. And the closeness of their bodies, their groins connected, told
him what he wanted to know so much - Remus was hard.
"May I, Remus?" he
whispered, not knowing what exactly what he asked for. "May I?"
And Remus nodded, and the
only word broke from his lips: "Yes. Yes."
His skin under the sweater
pulled up by Sirius' hasty hands was smooth and very hot; the lines of the ribs
visible under it, the thin traces of the scars white and long. Sirius touched
them with the tips of his fingers, carefully, then with his lips, and felt a
hitching breath in Remus' chest. At this moment, he thought, nothing could
compare to it, nothing could reach this pinnacle of keen happiness that he felt
now. It was everything - almost everything he had ever dreamed of.
Remus was with him. His
A soft sound outside the
house was like a branch snapping in the wind. The shudder that went through
Remus' body was short and violent, and Sirius pulled him closer, hugging him,
trying to reassure him, to make him feel safe. The look in Remus' eyes was
slightly wild as he stared around, as if trying to see through the impenetrable
darkness behind the windows. He met Sirius' eyes, and there was something
shining in his gaze, something Sirius couldn't understand at first.
"Remus…" He reached
to his cheek, trying to comfort him. The deepest pools of darkness of Remus'
pupils became even huger, and suddenly, as if something broke in Sirius's mind,
He understood it as clearly
as if it had been spoken aloud, as if it was spelt out in burning letters for
him. Guilt stared from Remus' eyes at him; guilt and fear.
He jerked back. Remus' look
was miserable, his hand reaching after Sirius. He took this hand, the thin
wrist so frail it always seemed to him it was possible to snap it in his grip.
The tips of his fingers were
smeared in the grey dust of Floo powder.
I'll make you some more
cocoa, he recalled.
He still could feel the heat,
the smoothness of Remus' skin under his palms.
"Who did you call?"
he asked softly.
For a moment there was a
frown of incomprehension on Remus' face, and then he jerked as if from a blow.
"Who…? How can you…
Aurors. Aurors, of course. It's for your own good, Sirius, don't you
The voice was pleading, the
voice that could do almost anything to him, the voice he would like to hear
when dying. Perhaps that wish of his would come true, Sirius thought. A bubble
of laughter rose in him, threatening to burst and then, he thought, he wouldn't
be able to stop. He still kept clutching Remus' wrist, and Remus didn't try to
break away from him.
"Why now?" he
asked, telling himself he needed this answer; he wouldn't be able to bear
carrying this thought in himself, the thought that it was him who pushed Remus
to it with his unwanted touches, his insistence. "Why didn't you do it…
when I was in the bathroom?"
"I wanted you to…"
Remus' voice was so quiet the words were difficult to decipher. "You were
so tired. I wanted you to eat."
It was almost impossible not
to start laughing; Sirius didn't know how he managed to avoid it. He looked
around; there were no more sounds coming. So, maybe, maybe it was not too late
He let Remus' hand go, and it
dropped like a dead weight. Sirius walked to the door and threw it open. No
curses came slamming into his chest. Too little time as yet for them to gather
their forces against such a dangerous criminal as he was.
He walked down the porch and
stepped onto the frozen, hoarfrost covered ground.
"Sirius!" There was
something desperate in Remus' voice. "Wait! You don't understand, you
can't keep running…"
He turned from the darkness
to see the thin, disheveled figure in the square of light in the doorway.
Remus' fingers were clutching the rails, and under his crumpled sweater a patch
of white skin was visible over the belt of his pants.
Sirius looked at him for a
few seconds that seemed to stretch into eternity, trying to absorb as much with
his eyes as possible. It'll have to last me for a lifetime, he thought, feeling
a fitful smile curve his lips.
"Go back," he said,
"it's too cold."
The next moment, Aurors
started landing around the house with popping sounds. He stepped farther into
the shadows, transforming; a black dog invisible in the black night. He ran,
leaving the house and Remus behind.