Dreaming of Opals

Title: Dreaming of Opals
Author: Lunablue
Email: deadredsocks@yahoo.com
Homepage: http://www.geocities.com/deadredsocks/user.html
Pairing: James/Sirius, Sirius/Remus
Rating: light NC17
Categories: Romance
Summary: Sirius dreams of Opals, sex and James Potter.
Second in the Crystals and Stones Series.
Disclaimer: All information on Crystal’s and Stones is extracted from Connie Islin’s book “Little BIG Book of Crystals and Stones” and is copyrighted in her name. I lay no claim to it. Harry Potter and associated characters belong to J.K. Rowling and associated companies thereof. I’m simply kidnapping them for my own perverted uses.


Dedicated to Kafers because she just rocks! The pic was fanfuckingtastic hun, cant wait to see more of your HP artwork.


* * * *
Sir Sirius dreamed of James.
James and sex and things that could never again be.


It never mattered where he was, if his bed was made of dirt or straw, cold rock or a soft mattress.


His dreams where haunted by images of James.


Sometimes he wonders if it was fair to Remus, to be dreaming of another man when it was his body that kept Sirius warm most nights.


But James was 15 years dead and Sirius had been having the dreams since Azkaban.


Remus had only staked his claim on him a few years ago. The dreams had laid claim to him first, and no doubt when everything and everyone was dead the dreams would still be there.


Sometimes he and James were passionate and joyful, in bodies not worn since sixth year.
Making playful love in the Gryffindor Common Room under James’s Invisibility Cloak while Lily watched and everyone else, including Remus and Peter, were oblivious.
They never did figure out how Lily was always able to see strait through the cloak.


Other times they’re older, just after graduation, coupling frantically under layers of Sirius’s flannel sheets. Desperate to shove away thoughts of Voldemort and danger, desperate to be consumed by the fire building inside them.


Desperate to prove that they were still alive.


James everywhere.
Warm brown eyes consuming his soul, earthy, golden coffee skin pressed against his.
Messy black hair tickling his chest as a warm, wet tongue draws patterns on his abs.
James everywhere.


James nibbling at his neck, James sliding Quidditch calloused fingers between his thighs.
James taking him to the peak and leaving him dangling, not quite there, and then when he calmed down just enough, took strait back to that peak again.


James the sensual, James the tease.


James the corpse.


Oh god I miss him.


Sometimes he wakes up crying, and when that happens Remus is always there to hold him. Moony doesn’t say anything; perhaps he thinks Sirius is reliving memories of his time at Azkaban. But sometimes he stares at him with this look in his eyes, and it’s times like that that Sirius knows with a steady surety that Remus is aware of the real reason he cries at night.


He wonders if he ever cries out James’s name while he dreams.


Sometimes, at his most deprived, Sirius wonders if Harry tastes anything like his father.
It’s those nights that he goes out to muggle London, heedless of danger, and gets right pissed until even the dreams can’t break through the haze of alcohol.


It’s strange but lately something different has been happening, the dreams have changed, evolved into something more.


Now he dreams of Opals and James.


Creamy white opals that shine like abalone shells, iridescent opals of all different shapes and sizes. It was like the Gods had captured the rainbow and locked it in a stone, divine beauty preserved for all eternity.


Opals on James fingernails, opals embedded in James’s skin in whirls and galaxies, an opal the size of a walnut over his third eye.


An opal on his tongue that cut Sirius’s mouth up whenever they kissed.
Sliced small paper cuts wherever his tongue touched Sirius’s skin.
The blood welled up like water droplets and Sirius’s fell in love with James all over again.


Small little opals decorating James’s eyelids like muggle glitter or pixie dust.


Then the unthinkable happened.
It happened two weeks before the sixteenth anniversary of James’s murder, at the end of a dream, right before he woke up, he and James had just finished making love atop a desk that looked suspiciously like Albus Dumbledore’s.


Sirius could already feel the dream slip away when James rolled over until his lips were right against Sirius’s ear, his lean body pressed against Sirius’s side.


“When are you going to stop mourning and start living Siri?”


And then it was over and he was awake.
It had rained the night before and when he looked out of the window of the little log cabin they where hiding out in, he could see a rainbow arch across the sky.


Strong but lithe arms wrap around his stomach and a chin rests on his shoulder.


“Beautiful isn’t it?”


“Yes.” Then, not wanting to leave the conversation at that he added.
“Especially the rainbow. It reminds me about this stone I’ve seen before, I just don’t know the name.”


“That would probably the opal stone you’re speaking of, my luv.”


“Yes, that’s it. Opal”


He tumbled the name around his tongue like a candy, playing with it, testing it.


“Opal. Why would I dream of it though?”


“Well,” sighed Remus, pressing himself against Sirius’s until he reached a more relaxing position. “as you know each stone has a significant property, a thing it’s good for if you will. If I remember my divination correctly, opals intensify sensations, especially sexual attraction. It enhances creativity, love, happiness, intuition and joy while leading the wearer to a higher state of self-awareness.”


Sirius just chuckled at his lover’s textbook answer.


“Twenty years later and you can still quote facts from our classroom texts as if the exam was later today.”


“Oh, hush you.”


It was another 10 days before James did something out of sorts again.


This time they were laying under the night sky, snuggled against each other, the smell of crushed grass and sex heady in the air. The Quidditch pitch had always been a favorite of his.


Instead of just laying there quietly like he always did, James started speaking, never once taking his opal dust
coated eyes off the stars.


“Remus always was good for remember facts, but never the interesting parts, the myths and the legends. He could ramble for days about the birthdays, inaugurations, and death days of every Egyptian Pharaoh that ever lived but ask him how Gaia created the Earth or how Zeus killed Cronos and he wouldn’t have the foggiest clue.”


Slightly confused, but knowing that whatever point James was trying to make was important, he stayed silent and waited.


James sighed before continuing.


“Did you know that opals are also “wishing stones”? Particularly good for making love wishes. I wish on them every night for you Siri but I know deep inside it’s useless.
You’re the only who can do it, I’m but a ghost that’s still roaming the shadowy realms of reality and dreams because your heart wont let me go, even while another pounds at it’s doors.”


Another long pause that extends into wakefulness, James’s parting sentence still ringing in his ears.


“Don’t you think Moony deserves better?”


Yes, Gods forgive him but yes, Remus did deserve so much better than what Sirius was able to give.


Sirius cried again and again Remus was there to hold him and offer silent comfort.
But this time he was crying for the past, he was crying for the man who held him.
The man who deserved better than what Sirius gave him.


He and Remus made love that morning, at times harsh and quick, at others gentle and sweet. It lasted for hours and when it was over and they were both stick with sweat and sex Remus cuddled against Sirius, whispering a sleepy ‘I love you’ before drifting off.


That night James was a madman, the sex was furious and painful and perfect and all about driving inner demons out through physical pleasure. It was about goodbyes and doing what you had to do ‘cause it’s the right thing, like it or no.


“Let me go Siri, let me go . . .please, my love, let me go.”


When he woke up Remus was out in the woods baying at the Full Moon and his right hand was clutched tightly around an opal the size of his thumbnail.


He knew what he had to do.


The gold moon shined through the window, illuminating his naked body with a pale glow. Under the moons light the opal in his hand shinned like a second sun, brilliant rainbow colors flashing in the light like a diamond.


Faintly he heard the howl of a wolf.


He made his wish under the light of the moon and in the name of the goddess.


“Please, lend me the strength to move forward in my life. The strength to love Remus like he deserves, to let go of my past and embrace my future. Bless Be.”


He slept that night, opal under his pillow, and didn’t dream.


When he awoke the sun was shining bright, the sky was blue and birds were chirping happily. Remus was sprawled naked in the bed next to him, softly snoring.


A grin spread across Sirius’s face as a small prank ran through his head.


Bending down he placed his lips against a smooth, milky throat that smelled vaguely of sandalwood and oak. He nibbled and sucked until bright patches of red burst like blood on the fresh canvas of Remus’s body. His lover awoke with a gasp, eyes popping up when Sirius straddled him, pressing lips to lips.


“Morning Remy, love you.”


And the look of joy in his eyes made everything worth it.


* * * *


Author’s Notes: Wow that was cool.
I’ve never written any fics where Prongs, Moony or Padfoot play an important before this one.