Miss You Love.
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,219
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,219
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
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.
Miss You Love.
There was an eerie silence about the place, the way the wind breathed like a listless sigh and how the trees moved, their branches rustling together like fidgeting fingers. The silence was so loud, it was deafening to Remus. Hours upon hours, he sat by the hearth and stared at the smouldering, dying embers, or stood by the fingerprint-smeared window and stared outside, watching life pass him by.
Life… What little meaning that seemed to have to him these days. For days, he looked crestfallen, sad, and lifeless, like there wasn’t any reason to carry on existing. His eyes burned and itched from the tears he shed at night into the pillow, that very same pillow that Sirius had spent all those nights laying upon before he went away. If Remus focused hard enough, if he buried his weeping face into the pillow and breathed in, he could still smell Sirius upon it, still catch his scent and remember everything about him that he loved.
But that was all they were - they were memories. It’s amazing how when a loved one dies, memories seem so far away, so intangible, so distant and unreal. As though everything that person had done, everything they had achieved, said and committed was nothing but a mere dream. Each night, when Remus clutched that pillow and cried endless tears into it, he yearned for those memories to be flesh again; to be something he could touch, see, taste, hear and smell.
But Sirius was so far away; he was unreachable, untouchable, and intangible to Remus now. He was a memory that seemed to fade faster and faster with each ebb and flow of every day. Remus was finding himself fighting so hard to hold, cling, grip desperately on to every memory that he had. But each day that passed, Sirius just seemed farther and farther away.
--
He stood by the window, like he’d been doing at least once every day, and stared out at the bare trees, the swaying grass and the soft sunlight, his hands clasped behind his back and his lips pressed into a thin, straight line. He stared at that spot under their favourite tree, that spot that he and Sirius had spent countless hours in the summer time, laying in the crisp, golden sun on a large blanket, looking up at the clouds and speaking whatever was on their minds.
--
”Look at that cloud there, Moony,” Sirius said, pointing up towards the sky with a slender finger.
“Which one?”
“THAT one. There. See?” Sirius jabbed his finger, lolling his head to the side to look at Remus. “See which one I mean?”
Remus squinted his left eye and followed the direction of where Sirius’ finger was pointing. “Which one?” he asked again, lifting a hand to his face to shield the bright afternoon sun from it.
Sirius let out a scoff of mock irritation and dashed his hand over to Remus’, snatching it and lacing his fingers, gripping their hands tightly together. “Are you even paying attention?” he asked, bringing Remus’ hand to his lips and kissing the back of it.
“’Course I am!” he replied, rolling his head to look at Sirius, meeting that charming grin that never failed to make him smile.
“Liar,” Sirius remarked, rolling on to his side and leaning in to press a chaste kiss to Remus’ lips.
--
Running a hand through his hair, Remus kept his gaze on that spot under the tree for a moment longer before casting his eyes away and turning around to face from the window. Why he stood there everyday and stared at that spot, reliving that one memory over and over, he had no idea. Each time he relived it, there was a pain that seared through his chest and plucked at his heartstrings, making him ache inside like a fierce bruise.
But looking around the room was no different to staring outside. Casting his hazel eyes over the aged, dusty furniture, each item seemed to hold a mark of Sirius. The large, old wooden table on the other side of the room where Sirius used to sit every morning and eat breakfast; the bookshelf by the sofa that housed all of his old tomes, where Sirius was often seen standing in front of, a hand on his chin, trying to work out what he wanted to read. Or the hearth, with the old, overstuffed sofa perched in front of it and the tatty rug on the floor, where he and Sirius had spent winter nights huddled in front of the fire, laughing and talking into the night, sometimes ending up making love.
Burrowing his hands into his pockets, Remus strolled away from the window towards the hearth, rounded the sofa and slumped down on it, heaving a deep sigh. He stared down at the old rug, studying the little marks and stains that had built up over time upon it.
--
”Ohh, god…” Remus gasped, arching his neck and running his hands down Sirius’ taut, sweaty back.
Sirius rocked his hips forward, sliding himself in and out of Remus, biting his bottom lip and breathing heavily, staring down into Remus’ eyes unblinkingly, watching how the shadows cast from the roaring fire highlighted Remus’ face, giving him an ethereal glow.
Remus let out another gasp and raised his legs, rocking harder against Sirius, feeling his prick hit that spot within him that made him shudder and cry out in pleasure. Sliding his hands down further, he moved them over the contours of Sirius’ firm buttocks and gripped them, pulling him in tighter and gasping again. “Ohh, god!”
“Moony,” Sirius murmured, hunching over Remus and lagging his head forward, squeezing his eyes shut and thrusting in harder, feeling his climax approaching hard and fast. “God, Moony…”
Remus watched how the beads of sweat trickled down Sirius’ temples, how his black hair tumbled over his forehead in coiled bangs and how his cheeks flushed with his exertion and excitement, listening to his panting breath. Letting out another gasp, Remus arched his head right back and let out a guttural cry as his cock seized up and spewed out line after line of milky white cum over his perspiring stomach, his whole body shuddering and jolting under the power of his release, Sirius following suit moments later and pressing his face into Remus’ shoulder, grunting and gasping as he came deep inside him.
--
Many hours had passed, many silent, lonely hours, and Remus sat at the big wooden table, staring down at his bowl of soup, listlessly stirring it and slopping it with the spoon, his other hand pressed on the cool surface, his fingers mindlessly drumming. Sirius hated soup, almost as much as he hated Remus drumming his fingers, and always complained when they had it, saying how it wasn’t real food and what was Remus trying to do, starve him?
His fingers continued to drum as he glanced at the spot where Sirius always sat, looking at the empty chair, remembering how Sirius would hunch over his plate and how he would hold his cutlery. He always ate with his elbows resting on the table, which drove Remus nuts. Now, though… He would have given anything to have Sirius seated there once again, even with his elbows propped up on the table. Because, really, as much as that annoyed Remus, it was one of the many things that made up Sirius. And, really, Remus loved every bit him. Every single bit. He always would.
--
Remus’ fingers drummed incessantly on the wooden surface as he stirred his soup with his spoon, glancing at the Daily Prophet that was lying open on the table.
“Stop that,” Sirius said, hunched over his soup, gripping his spoon, his elbows propped on the table top.
“Hmmm?” he asked, not really hearing what Sirius had said, absentmindedly spooning soup into his mouth.
“I said stop that!” Sirius dashed his hand forward and slapped it atop of Remus’ drumming fingers, making Remus jump and drop his spoon with a clatter to the table.
Snapping his head to look at Sirius, Remus frowned, saying, “What was that for?”
“That drumming thing you do—“ He mimicked Remus, galloping his fingers loudly across the surface of the table. “It’s fucking annoying!”
Eyeing Sirius’ elbows on the table, Remus lunged forward and pushed one elbow away from it, stating, “Well, so is that!”
Sirius glared at Remus for a moment and then lowered his head, breaking into a smile and chuckling, shaking his head. Remus, in response, grinned and sat back in his chair, taking up his spoon again and dipping it back into the soup, stirring it more. “Why do you make soup, Moony?” Sirius finally said, scooping up a spoonful of it, holding it above the bowl and then slowly turning the spoon sideways, watching the thick substance slop back into the bowl. “I hate soup.”
“I know you hate soup.”
“Then why do you make it?”
Spooning another mouthful past his lips, he replied, “Because I like it.”
Scoffing, Sirius dug his spoon back into it, retorting, “It’s not real food. What are you trying—“
“—do, starve me?” Remus finished in unison with Sirius, rolling his eyes. “Just shut up and eat, will you?”
Sirius looked back up at Remus and grinned coquettishly, slamming his elbows back on the table. “No,” he defiantly replied, wiggling his eyebrows at Remus.
Shaking his head, Remus laughed. “God, you annoy me sometimes.”
“I know,” Sirius replied, reaching his hand across the table and placing it over Remus’, squeezing it firmly. Remus smiled at Sirius and gripped his hand in response, their eyes holding gaze.
--
Shaking his head, he blinked his eyes and looked away from the chair, casting his eyes down to his soup which was barely touched. Stirring it a few more times, Remus sighed and pushed the bowl away from him and then rose from his seat. Another day had turned into night without Remus really realising it; another day had passed where Remus had spent most of it in deep thought, lost in the memories of Sirius, wishing that they would again be flesh rather than an image etched in his mind.
Slowly, he made his way from the kitchen to the staircase, grasped the hand rail and travelled his palm up it a he plodded up the steps, staring at his feet. Reaching the landing, he went to the bathroom and stared at his tired, pale, mottled face in the vanity mirror as he brushed his teeth before retiring to his bedroom and peeling back the sheets, sliding between them.
--
”Come here, Remus,” Sirius muttered in the dark as Remus climbed into the bed. He felt Sirius’ legs coiling over his and his arms wrapping over his middle, pulling him close. “You’re cold.”
“I know,” Remus muttered back, rolling to his side and letting himself be pulled into Sirius’ grip, feeling his lips brush against his own. He felt tender, gentle fingers threading through his hair, Sirius’ lips parting against his and claiming them, kissing him softly.
Digging his icy toes between Sirius’ warm calves, Sirius broke the kiss to yank the duvet up closer around them both, tucking Remus in, making sure he was warm. Those lips returned to his again, kissing him briefly and then uttering in a whisper against Remus’ lips, “I love you, Remus.”
--
He clutched the pillow to him, pressing his face into it, breathing in deeply to take in the faint remnants of Sirius’ scent. Curled up on his side in a ball, his eyes were squeezed shut, trying to force back the flood of tears that were, yet again, threatening to cascade from them.
He tried in vain to think of happy times with Sirius, fun times, times that made him laugh, but he couldn’t. All’s he could think about was how much he missed his Sirius, how much he craved to see him again, to touch him and hold him, to have Sirius whisper comforting words to him, to hear his laugh and see that smile.
“Why did you leave me?” he whispered into the pillow, feeling the first of the tears breach his clamped eyelids and leak out. He curled his fingers in tighter into the pillow, hunching his shoulders over and drawing his legs up tighter, squeezing himself into a tight foetal position as the first wave of sobs hit him yet again. “Why did you have to die, Sirius?”
His muffled sobs broke the silence of the room, echoing against the walls and dissolving into nothing. Pain seized his chest, like it did every night, crippling him, making him cry himself into a restless sleep.
--
Like every other day, he awoke to silence; painful, deathly silence. As though his life was a metaphor for the loss he had endured. The silence was like a resonating din, reminding him every minute of every day that he was alone, that he was without Sirius, that Sirius was never going to come back. And knowing that made every memory of him less and less real, more and more dream like.
Rising from his bed, he silently showered, dressed and made his way down stairs to eat breakfast, staring at Sirius’ empty chair. Pushing away his unfinished food, Remus rose from his seat and made his way across the room to the window, staring out at that same spot.
--
”Promise me something, Moony,” Sirius said out of the blue as they lay beneath the tree, turning his head to the side to look at Remus.
“What’s that?” Remus asked, raising his hand to his face to shield it from the sun.
Sirius reached for Remus’ hand and entwined his fingers with his, gripping his hand tight. “Promise me that you will never leave me, Remus.”
Remus broke into a smile and gripped his hand back, replying, “Only if you promise.”
Drawing his hand to his lips, Sirius kissed the back of it and looked into Remus’ eyes. “I promise. I promise never to leave you. Ever.”
“Then so do I.”
--
Pressing his forehead against the glass, Remus stared at that spot, whispering, “You promised me you would never leave. Why did you leave me, Sirius?”
Life… What little meaning that seemed to have to him these days. For days, he looked crestfallen, sad, and lifeless, like there wasn’t any reason to carry on existing. His eyes burned and itched from the tears he shed at night into the pillow, that very same pillow that Sirius had spent all those nights laying upon before he went away. If Remus focused hard enough, if he buried his weeping face into the pillow and breathed in, he could still smell Sirius upon it, still catch his scent and remember everything about him that he loved.
But that was all they were - they were memories. It’s amazing how when a loved one dies, memories seem so far away, so intangible, so distant and unreal. As though everything that person had done, everything they had achieved, said and committed was nothing but a mere dream. Each night, when Remus clutched that pillow and cried endless tears into it, he yearned for those memories to be flesh again; to be something he could touch, see, taste, hear and smell.
But Sirius was so far away; he was unreachable, untouchable, and intangible to Remus now. He was a memory that seemed to fade faster and faster with each ebb and flow of every day. Remus was finding himself fighting so hard to hold, cling, grip desperately on to every memory that he had. But each day that passed, Sirius just seemed farther and farther away.
--
He stood by the window, like he’d been doing at least once every day, and stared out at the bare trees, the swaying grass and the soft sunlight, his hands clasped behind his back and his lips pressed into a thin, straight line. He stared at that spot under their favourite tree, that spot that he and Sirius had spent countless hours in the summer time, laying in the crisp, golden sun on a large blanket, looking up at the clouds and speaking whatever was on their minds.
--
”Look at that cloud there, Moony,” Sirius said, pointing up towards the sky with a slender finger.
“Which one?”
“THAT one. There. See?” Sirius jabbed his finger, lolling his head to the side to look at Remus. “See which one I mean?”
Remus squinted his left eye and followed the direction of where Sirius’ finger was pointing. “Which one?” he asked again, lifting a hand to his face to shield the bright afternoon sun from it.
Sirius let out a scoff of mock irritation and dashed his hand over to Remus’, snatching it and lacing his fingers, gripping their hands tightly together. “Are you even paying attention?” he asked, bringing Remus’ hand to his lips and kissing the back of it.
“’Course I am!” he replied, rolling his head to look at Sirius, meeting that charming grin that never failed to make him smile.
“Liar,” Sirius remarked, rolling on to his side and leaning in to press a chaste kiss to Remus’ lips.
--
Running a hand through his hair, Remus kept his gaze on that spot under the tree for a moment longer before casting his eyes away and turning around to face from the window. Why he stood there everyday and stared at that spot, reliving that one memory over and over, he had no idea. Each time he relived it, there was a pain that seared through his chest and plucked at his heartstrings, making him ache inside like a fierce bruise.
But looking around the room was no different to staring outside. Casting his hazel eyes over the aged, dusty furniture, each item seemed to hold a mark of Sirius. The large, old wooden table on the other side of the room where Sirius used to sit every morning and eat breakfast; the bookshelf by the sofa that housed all of his old tomes, where Sirius was often seen standing in front of, a hand on his chin, trying to work out what he wanted to read. Or the hearth, with the old, overstuffed sofa perched in front of it and the tatty rug on the floor, where he and Sirius had spent winter nights huddled in front of the fire, laughing and talking into the night, sometimes ending up making love.
Burrowing his hands into his pockets, Remus strolled away from the window towards the hearth, rounded the sofa and slumped down on it, heaving a deep sigh. He stared down at the old rug, studying the little marks and stains that had built up over time upon it.
--
”Ohh, god…” Remus gasped, arching his neck and running his hands down Sirius’ taut, sweaty back.
Sirius rocked his hips forward, sliding himself in and out of Remus, biting his bottom lip and breathing heavily, staring down into Remus’ eyes unblinkingly, watching how the shadows cast from the roaring fire highlighted Remus’ face, giving him an ethereal glow.
Remus let out another gasp and raised his legs, rocking harder against Sirius, feeling his prick hit that spot within him that made him shudder and cry out in pleasure. Sliding his hands down further, he moved them over the contours of Sirius’ firm buttocks and gripped them, pulling him in tighter and gasping again. “Ohh, god!”
“Moony,” Sirius murmured, hunching over Remus and lagging his head forward, squeezing his eyes shut and thrusting in harder, feeling his climax approaching hard and fast. “God, Moony…”
Remus watched how the beads of sweat trickled down Sirius’ temples, how his black hair tumbled over his forehead in coiled bangs and how his cheeks flushed with his exertion and excitement, listening to his panting breath. Letting out another gasp, Remus arched his head right back and let out a guttural cry as his cock seized up and spewed out line after line of milky white cum over his perspiring stomach, his whole body shuddering and jolting under the power of his release, Sirius following suit moments later and pressing his face into Remus’ shoulder, grunting and gasping as he came deep inside him.
--
Many hours had passed, many silent, lonely hours, and Remus sat at the big wooden table, staring down at his bowl of soup, listlessly stirring it and slopping it with the spoon, his other hand pressed on the cool surface, his fingers mindlessly drumming. Sirius hated soup, almost as much as he hated Remus drumming his fingers, and always complained when they had it, saying how it wasn’t real food and what was Remus trying to do, starve him?
His fingers continued to drum as he glanced at the spot where Sirius always sat, looking at the empty chair, remembering how Sirius would hunch over his plate and how he would hold his cutlery. He always ate with his elbows resting on the table, which drove Remus nuts. Now, though… He would have given anything to have Sirius seated there once again, even with his elbows propped up on the table. Because, really, as much as that annoyed Remus, it was one of the many things that made up Sirius. And, really, Remus loved every bit him. Every single bit. He always would.
--
Remus’ fingers drummed incessantly on the wooden surface as he stirred his soup with his spoon, glancing at the Daily Prophet that was lying open on the table.
“Stop that,” Sirius said, hunched over his soup, gripping his spoon, his elbows propped on the table top.
“Hmmm?” he asked, not really hearing what Sirius had said, absentmindedly spooning soup into his mouth.
“I said stop that!” Sirius dashed his hand forward and slapped it atop of Remus’ drumming fingers, making Remus jump and drop his spoon with a clatter to the table.
Snapping his head to look at Sirius, Remus frowned, saying, “What was that for?”
“That drumming thing you do—“ He mimicked Remus, galloping his fingers loudly across the surface of the table. “It’s fucking annoying!”
Eyeing Sirius’ elbows on the table, Remus lunged forward and pushed one elbow away from it, stating, “Well, so is that!”
Sirius glared at Remus for a moment and then lowered his head, breaking into a smile and chuckling, shaking his head. Remus, in response, grinned and sat back in his chair, taking up his spoon again and dipping it back into the soup, stirring it more. “Why do you make soup, Moony?” Sirius finally said, scooping up a spoonful of it, holding it above the bowl and then slowly turning the spoon sideways, watching the thick substance slop back into the bowl. “I hate soup.”
“I know you hate soup.”
“Then why do you make it?”
Spooning another mouthful past his lips, he replied, “Because I like it.”
Scoffing, Sirius dug his spoon back into it, retorting, “It’s not real food. What are you trying—“
“—do, starve me?” Remus finished in unison with Sirius, rolling his eyes. “Just shut up and eat, will you?”
Sirius looked back up at Remus and grinned coquettishly, slamming his elbows back on the table. “No,” he defiantly replied, wiggling his eyebrows at Remus.
Shaking his head, Remus laughed. “God, you annoy me sometimes.”
“I know,” Sirius replied, reaching his hand across the table and placing it over Remus’, squeezing it firmly. Remus smiled at Sirius and gripped his hand in response, their eyes holding gaze.
--
Shaking his head, he blinked his eyes and looked away from the chair, casting his eyes down to his soup which was barely touched. Stirring it a few more times, Remus sighed and pushed the bowl away from him and then rose from his seat. Another day had turned into night without Remus really realising it; another day had passed where Remus had spent most of it in deep thought, lost in the memories of Sirius, wishing that they would again be flesh rather than an image etched in his mind.
Slowly, he made his way from the kitchen to the staircase, grasped the hand rail and travelled his palm up it a he plodded up the steps, staring at his feet. Reaching the landing, he went to the bathroom and stared at his tired, pale, mottled face in the vanity mirror as he brushed his teeth before retiring to his bedroom and peeling back the sheets, sliding between them.
--
”Come here, Remus,” Sirius muttered in the dark as Remus climbed into the bed. He felt Sirius’ legs coiling over his and his arms wrapping over his middle, pulling him close. “You’re cold.”
“I know,” Remus muttered back, rolling to his side and letting himself be pulled into Sirius’ grip, feeling his lips brush against his own. He felt tender, gentle fingers threading through his hair, Sirius’ lips parting against his and claiming them, kissing him softly.
Digging his icy toes between Sirius’ warm calves, Sirius broke the kiss to yank the duvet up closer around them both, tucking Remus in, making sure he was warm. Those lips returned to his again, kissing him briefly and then uttering in a whisper against Remus’ lips, “I love you, Remus.”
--
He clutched the pillow to him, pressing his face into it, breathing in deeply to take in the faint remnants of Sirius’ scent. Curled up on his side in a ball, his eyes were squeezed shut, trying to force back the flood of tears that were, yet again, threatening to cascade from them.
He tried in vain to think of happy times with Sirius, fun times, times that made him laugh, but he couldn’t. All’s he could think about was how much he missed his Sirius, how much he craved to see him again, to touch him and hold him, to have Sirius whisper comforting words to him, to hear his laugh and see that smile.
“Why did you leave me?” he whispered into the pillow, feeling the first of the tears breach his clamped eyelids and leak out. He curled his fingers in tighter into the pillow, hunching his shoulders over and drawing his legs up tighter, squeezing himself into a tight foetal position as the first wave of sobs hit him yet again. “Why did you have to die, Sirius?”
His muffled sobs broke the silence of the room, echoing against the walls and dissolving into nothing. Pain seized his chest, like it did every night, crippling him, making him cry himself into a restless sleep.
--
Like every other day, he awoke to silence; painful, deathly silence. As though his life was a metaphor for the loss he had endured. The silence was like a resonating din, reminding him every minute of every day that he was alone, that he was without Sirius, that Sirius was never going to come back. And knowing that made every memory of him less and less real, more and more dream like.
Rising from his bed, he silently showered, dressed and made his way down stairs to eat breakfast, staring at Sirius’ empty chair. Pushing away his unfinished food, Remus rose from his seat and made his way across the room to the window, staring out at that same spot.
--
”Promise me something, Moony,” Sirius said out of the blue as they lay beneath the tree, turning his head to the side to look at Remus.
“What’s that?” Remus asked, raising his hand to his face to shield it from the sun.
Sirius reached for Remus’ hand and entwined his fingers with his, gripping his hand tight. “Promise me that you will never leave me, Remus.”
Remus broke into a smile and gripped his hand back, replying, “Only if you promise.”
Drawing his hand to his lips, Sirius kissed the back of it and looked into Remus’ eyes. “I promise. I promise never to leave you. Ever.”
“Then so do I.”
--
Pressing his forehead against the glass, Remus stared at that spot, whispering, “You promised me you would never leave. Why did you leave me, Sirius?”