Diaries of a Broken Wolf

Warning: this chapter contains explicit male on male sex, if you are offened then I have no idea WHY you are reading this fic, go find some lesbian sex and shut up...

I awoke the next morning with my eyes itching me terribly. My body dragged with laziness as I cleaned myself, brushed my teeth and went down the stairs for breakfast.

He wasn’t in the kitchen. On the table was a cup of coffee, a small bowl of sugar and a petite cup of cream. He had made coffee for me even thought he dislikes it immensely. I drank it down in almost 2 gulps, black. I usually add some sugar to it, but I didn’t have the patience to pour it in. I sat there, alone, staring off into nothingness. Soon I heard a thunk and realized that my head had fallen to the table.

“I’m being ridiculous,” I murmured to myself, face squished against the pine table, “He won’t be mad at me, I just have to explain...” Explain what? How could I explain if I didn’t even know why I did it? I groaned in anguish, I had dug myself back in the hole.

I felt myself drifting off to sleep, stuck in that daze between reality and fantasy. I imagined him hugging me, warms arms around my back, face pressed tenderly against my neck. I took a deep breath and I could smell him, his scent overwhelming my senses. He didn’t smell of any palpable thing in particular. He, like all animals and people, just smelt distinct.

His hot breath caressed my left ear, for his head was tilted that way. Even though I was tired, even though I was in despair, I felt my need and want for him grow. Now was the time my need was physical as my groin tightened with arousal.

I dreamt of him shuddering because he caught the scent of it and my own body dithering in reaction. He laid a soft kiss on the back of my left ear, then moved his face away. His whole body followed and I was left cold and provoked.

The surprise of this led me to wake up, only to turn around and see Sirius standing there. His eyes were curtained by his black bangs, his hands clenched at his sides, and his breath was quick and quivering.

It dawned on me that I hadn’t been dreaming, that he had been there as my body reacted. I surveyed him, eyes wandering over him. His body was taut like a strung bow, slightly shaking. Then I looked to his crotch and gasped, much to my embarrassment. He was stimulated as well, manhood standing tall in his slacks.

I felt like a fool having not caught scent of it before I saw it.

Our eyes met and he had this scared, caught in the headlights, look. His face was flushed, cheeks pink with humiliation, his eyes fearful but glazed faintly with lust.

“Moony...Remus I...yesterday...I...” He choked on a sob, trying urgently to explain to me why I had kissed him. Trying to explain !my! arousal.

I rose from my chair and walked to him. Without hesitation I hugged him. He was momentarily stunned, only to recover and hug me back.

He started to talk again but I hushed him. Pulling back only barely, I held his gaze in mine, our faces inches apart. I kissed him again, only this time it wasn’t empty, or shallow, or hollow. The kiss was full of emotion, need, desire, lust, passion, and most importantly I strived to pour all my love into it.

A guttural growl escaped my throat and he began to eat at my mouth hungrily, like a starving animal. I slipped my tongue into his devouring mouth, searching for his so we could orally dance. ‘He had tea this morning’, I thought absentmindedly.

My fingers dug into his coat sleeves and I clung to him for dear life. I moaned into him, dominating his mouth. With my tongue I traced his lips and teeth, plunging into his sweet cavern.

We soon had to break apart due to lack of breath. I gulped air and stared at him, my body aflame with what it knew it always wanted, Sirius.

I looked to his eyes, urging to see his reaction to this. He looked guiltily back at me. Of all the things to be in this moment, he felt guilty! Had he thought that he took advantage of me? I decided to prove him wrong.

Taking his left hand, I made him cup my cheek. “Don’t feel guilty,” I whispered, “I wanted this for a very long time, but you know me. I’m always too safe and guarded to ever take a chance. I’ll take what you offer me; your friendship, your company, your sex, or your love if you want to give it. But only if that is what you want.” Resting my head on his chest I listened to his heartbeat. It was like the rest of him, strong, proud, and beautiful.

“How long have you wanted me?” he asked tentatively.

“I’m not sure, but I only just grasped it a week ago...” was my reply.

Unexpectedly, he shoved me away so he could wrap his arms around his body, creating a protective cocoon of himself. “A week...” he sobbed, “A WEEK!”

The power of his voice frightened me, but I still stood there waiting for him.

“Oh Moony,” he moaned, looking at me with a pained, heart wrenching expression. “I’ve loved you since school, since the 3rd year of school!”

“Oh god...” I looked now at a man who had always loved me. He was my best friend but hid his underlying yearning from me to preserve that friendship. If I had been a stranger I would’ve felt sympathy for him, but all I experienced was an inexcusable sense of self-loathing.

And although I wanted to be strong for him then as his heart broke in front of me, I began to cry hot tears of regret. Regret for my blindness, for my lack of compassion and for him having fallen in love with me.

“Padfoot, I’m so sorry. Please,” I reached for him, pulling his shivering body back into my arms as I cradled him while he wept. “If I had known...Please...I love you, don’t cry. I’ll never forgive myself for taking so long to see, PLEASE!”

“No!” He retorted. “It was my fault for never telling you. I was afraid you would leave me...”

I could take no more. I kissed him again, hard, plowing my tongue into his mouth. I needed him now. “Sirius,” I sighed amongst kisses, “I’ll never leave you, ever.”

His other hand cupped the corresponding cheek, holding my whole weeping face in his grip. He buried his face into the nape of my neck, reveling in my scent. “I’ll never leave you either...”

For all my long years of having known him, I had only seen him this weak, this fragile, once. The night I transformed in front of him for the first time, the exact moment of change, I glimpsed his face. There I saw raw pity, mingled with sadness for my pain and me. But most of all I witnessed his emotion of self-defeat, weakness. He could do nothing to save me or even ease my physical pain, and he wept for me inside.

And now, his body nestled in my arms, his usually cheerful face stained with tears and hidden by my relieving body, he was weak again. But this time he wasn’t drained of his usual merry attitude by his caring for me, but by his own doing. In his feeling of strife, he sought me out for help. Not because I was the only one, but because I was the only one. Well I suppose that sounds confusing...What I’m trying to depict is that no one could love and soothe him like myself.

Again, he raised his face to me, eyes scanning mine for sincerity. He donned an almost satisfied expression and kissed me again. It was close-mouthed, sweet and placid, not like the previous ones. I believe that that kiss was only meant for stabilization.

I broke from him again. My body was still aroused, hot and becoming increasingly frustrated. The wolf in me wanted more. I settled on choosing the primal path today, it was more acceptable to my need.

Without a passing glance I started off up the stairs, towards my room. My bed was bigger. My head was spinning from anticipation so my motor skills were thrown off, causing me to trip on the top few steps. I had been striving for sexiness and felt embarrassed by my blunder, so much for savoring the sensuality. He began to laugh behind me; a lusty, rough chuckle.

Considering that I had ruined the moment, I turned back at him, cheeks flushed from awkwardness. He was at the bottom of the staircase, eyes shimmering from tears but also amusement. I shook my head and found myself laughing with him, I found him that contagious.

“Silly Moony.” He barked between sniggers.

“Well are you coming? Since I’m unable to lure you into my lair with sexual prowess, I guess I’ll just ask.” He seemed shocked temporarily by that, whether it was my abrupt sexual reference or that I had asked him directly, I couldn’t tell. I think it was the sex talk.

He recuperated with a smile and then started to practically lunge up the stairs after me. I put on a pseudo scared look and scampered off to my bedroom, crying back at him to ‘catch me if he could’.

Basically we were both very canine. While he chased me into my room, cornering me in front of the bed and tackling me to it, I was reminded of nothing but two dogs playing in a field, wrestling each other down.

I felt very dominated by him, not only in our oncoming endeavor but also in everything we did. Occasionally we played tennis, he would always win. He was more competitive than I am. He had and will always have a dictating presence in any situation. I knew before we even started that I would never play the dominant role, and it didn’t bother me at all.

He was there; his hands pinning my arms over my head with his weight, his legs straddling my waist, our hips dangerously close. His breath was ragged, his face flushed with excitement, and his brow had accumulated a sheen of sweat.

Fleetingly, he was surprised at himself. How could I know this? I could see him debating and deliberating what had just occurred. His emotions flashed over his face; shock, confusion, fear and then guilt. He always felt guilty.

He was probably this way due to the fact that he had me pinned, or because he thought he was taking advantage of me. I never realized that he thought so much, sadly.

“Erm...” he started to back off tentatively but I wrapped my legs around his waist. Tightening my grip on him, I brought our hips together. My arousal met his. They rubbed together, through hindering clothes, and both of us moaned. Out of the corner of my eyes, which were half lidded, I saw his arms trembling from the pleasure.

Our pelvises were pressed together, both of us unmoving. I then rolled my lower body, rubbing our erections against each other again. That time his arms gave way, causing his upper body to pour over mine like a building toppling over. He was heavy, but not so much in an unbearable way.

“Moony I...” He began, his breath puffing against my cheek.

“No.” I replied, plowing my hips into his once more.

Truthfully, I didn’t want him to ruin the moment like I had previously, possibly by saying something gauche. But I also wanted him so immeasurably that words would’ve gotten in our way.

My hips were rubbing hopelessly against his; I couldn’t stop the movement. Before I knew it, I was moving faster, trying to achieve resolution without even disrobing.

On top of my body, he was panting wildly. His body was reacting strongly to mine and his hips played back at mine with equal force.

“Remus...” he growled to me, leaning up to ravage my mouth with his.

When he uttered my name, my real name, not my knick name, my arousal flared and I became harder. My lust spilled into his mouth with my tongue and my vocalizations.

He started tearing my clothes off, not taking off, but ripping off! He grabbed at the neck of my T-shirt and shredded it all the way down to the end, revealing my chest and stomach.

I froze. Through all the foreplay and kissing, I had forgotten about my body. How could I forget how disgusting I was underneath my clothes? The scars, the lacerations, and the eternally bruised flesh were still there, condemning what beauty I could’ve had.

I was aware of him staring at me, not my face but my torso. Roving eyes took me in, soaking in my monstrosity of a being. Tears started creeping from my lashes, plummeting down my cheeks that were pale with remorse.

I knew that he would still want to sleep with me even though I was tainted. His love is what drove him to want me, not just lust. Otherwise, I thought, he wouldn’t want me.

At that point he wasn’t pushed to me, just hovering over me on all fours. I rolled on my side, curling into fetal position under him. The tears fell fast, tingeing the sheets that covered my bed.

One more time, I had wrecked the feeling of our love with something idiotic. I knew that he cared for me no matter what, but my self-disgust was unavoidable. There was no cure for werewolves, no salvation from their self-destruction. My situation was terrible yet understandable. Unfortunately, even though he probably comprehended why I looked like that, I still felt ashamed.

His hand latched onto my shoulder and he rolled me over. “Don’t, please don’t.”

On my back I felt unprotected, vulnerable. I refused to open even though he was attempting to make me do so. He whispered sweet things to me, words of comfort and love, but I rejected them. My tears came more rapidly making my chest heave with quick breaths.

Amidst my weeping, I considered that he had left me alone to vent my sadness. Suddenly I felt his tongue trace the largest of my scars on my left pectoral. My arousal, that had been fading, twitched with rapture.

Large, warm, familiar hands slid down my heated skin, bringing it back to life. He fingered each mark his digits passed with affection. His tongue kept licking at the closest disfigurement to his mouth, giving my body love.

I opened my eyes, they were blurred from tears but I could see his black, burning eyes. They were aflame with passion and determination. He showed no signs of being dismayed or disgusted. I figured that he had been mentally prepared for what he saw, but that wasn’t it. He didn’t care that I was scarred; he still appreciated my young figure with hungry eyes.

Kindly he took off my pants, pulling them over my slim hips and burgeoning member. I was fully naked to him. A gasp escaped my lips as he began caressing me once more, brushing dutiful over as much skin as he could see.

Warm breath flowed over my manhood so I leaned up to see him panting over it. “Oh Remus, you’re more beautiful than I ever imagined,” he whispered before engulfing me in his mouth.

My hips jumped off the bed when the sensation hit me. A moan rumbled low in my throat as I tossed my head back in pleasure. “Sirius!” I sighed, burying my hands in his long, soft hair as black as pitch.

He gave a possessive growl around me. It was greedy and selfish, like a dog claiming it’s territory. I use a lot of dog metaphors for Sirius for obvious reasons, but he really does resemble a dog more than any other animal.

His sucking and licking increased and I started losing track of where I was and what else was happening around me. Then he let my erection go. I was stimulated, hot and frustrated so the last thing I craved was for him to stop.

I felt the bed rise, signaling that he had vacated the bed. I was honestly too out of it to care. The bed dipped and he was crawling on top of me, naked. As he slinked up my body, his arousal left a trail of essence as it rubbed up my legs to my crotch.

Long, satin black hairs tickled my face causing me to look up at him. “I want to fuck you Remus...” he said, gazing at me intently. How could I say ‘no’ to that? Why would I want to? Dumbly, I nodded.

We kissed again, our lips massaging each other’s. He grabbed my erection with one hand and began pumping, slowly and torturously. His hips had been straddling mine again so he sat back on his heels to watch himself stroke me. He then proceeded to pump his own member with his free hand.

My eyes widened almost impossibly. That had to have been the most erotic and sexy thing I have yet to witness. I became incredibly turned on to the point of almost orgasm. Pre-cum began dribbling out of my yearning erection. He smeared the thick liquid over the head of my member, earning him a gurgling moan. I looked down my body at him, seeing that he too was beginning to leak.

His hand let me go. Two fingers ran up the sides of my manhood, gathering the trickling liquid. That liquid was coated on his waiting erection along with his own pre-cum.

I felt a finger probe the rim of my entrance. It caught me off guard so I clenched my muscles in opposition to it. “Relax,” he purred in a dulcet tone.

Taking a deep breath I attempted to relax my muscles for him. One finger slipped in and began to plunge in and out to stretch me. Satisfied with that, he pushed another digit in and began to scissor.

It wasn’t ‘painful’ per say, just new and uncomfortable. I knew it had to be better than that, better than that awkward feeling he was giving me. I was hoping the actual sex would persuade my mind to enjoy it.

He retracted his fingers when I was adequately stretched and then placed the head of his sex at my entrance. “This will hurt for a minute...” Before he pushed in, I began to ponder how he knew so much about this. If he had been in love with me all these years, would he have still caved in to have sex with someone else? Or maybe he researched? Or maybe he—“OOHHHH!!!” I cried mid-thought.

My hands clenched in the sheets under me as he slowly drove himself inside my tight body. I screwed my eyes shut as the pain and pleasure crashed over me like waves of the ocean in a thunderstorm.

“Oh God Remus!” He cried to me as he started a slow rhythm of in and out. The pain began file away and was being replaced with pleasure and lust. It was so intimate, our contact and our feelings, that I just couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone but him. Purely virginal talk I’m sure, but I didn’t want to have sex with anyone but Sirius. I loved him.

His arousal became harder inside me and I could feel it grow. His slow, trusty thrusts became heavy, fast rams. Literally, he was fucking me. I could hear my pulse in my ear, and even though it was a wonderful feeling, I just knew there was something more. Then he hit it, that spot deep inside me which I soon found out was my prostate (from research).

The pleasure that one contact gave me surged through my body, making my member jump with anticipation. I was near the edge with only one hit from his erection.

“Sirius...I can’t,” I moaned in between words, “I can’t last!”

He beat me to it. I felt his seed erupt inside me.

His warm essence poured over my prostate and I came along with him, riding my high with delirious satisfaction.

A hot weight was added to own as he collapsed on me. His breath puffed in my ears, his heartbeat pounded over my own heart. “I love you Sirius.” I sighed, kissing his temple. I could feel his pulse quicken when I said it, then reside with a calm knowing.

He fell asleep there, lying atop my being. I felt happy, complete, and so very clean. All my life previous to that moment, until the point where I can’t remember, the time before the wolf, I was under the influence that I was unfit for any other human being. With Sirius there, our bodies still intimately connected, I knew that I was at least good enough for him.