Alien

Remus doesn’t know Sirius anymore.

Sirius’ face is nothing but a ghost of the past to him. He once knew Sirius’ face like he knew the back of his own hand. He knew each wrinkle, each smile line and each freckle. He used to study Sirius’ face like it was his favourite book.

But twelve years has passed. Twelve long, painful years. Sirius has new wrinkles, deeper wrinkles. His smile lines are no longer marks of happiness; rather, they are grooved into his face, just like the scars on Remus’ face and body. They make Sirius look tired, weary and frail. They cross over his pale skin like a complicated map. He just looks so alien to Remus. It pains Remus terribly.

They are in the gritty, dim Palour room of 12 Grimmauld Place. The place is empty, save for them and the eerie house elf, Kreacher, who is lurking somewhere in the bowels of the ancient house. Remus and Sirius are studying each other’s faces like they are nothing but strangers. They speak no words as they sit opposite each other on the tatty divan. They are uncertain what to say. All that can be heard is the faint, hushed sound of their breath, in and out.

Sirius looks weak, tired and incredibly gaunt. His face is sunken and his cheekbones jut out sharply. Remus can see each tendon and vein protruding starkly on the darker-haired man’s neck. He imagines Sirius’ bones creaking with each movement that he makes, just like the old house and the way it creaks and settles in its rotting foundations. Sirius was once lean and healthy looking. Now, he is merely a ghost of his former self.

Sirius is the first to reach out. His bony hand moves to Remus’ face and he touches it gingerly. His fingertips are rough and calloused against his cheek. They are not the fingertips that Remus remembers. The same fingers had explored his body many times and they were always smooth like silk when they glided across his skin. But now they are rough, like sandpaper.

Remus closes his eyes and turns his cheek to Sirius. He is the first to speak. “I’ve missed—“

“I’ve missed you, too,” Sirius cuts in.

Remus smiles faintly. He feels Sirius’ fingers skim over his scars, tracing the new ones that he has gained while Sirius was gone. It is as if he is acquainting himself with new parts of Remus that he has missed out on over the years.

“I’ve missed you, Moony,” Sirius says again throatily.

Remus opens his eyes and peers at him. He sees that the man’s grey eyes are bright with tears and he is blinking furiously to hold them back. “I know,” Remus softly replies.

He tentatively reaches a hand out towards Sirius and finds his hand. Slowly, he laces his fingers within Sirius\' and grips his hand tightly. It is so bony and thin. His knuckles are like misshapen pebbles and his fingers are like gnarled branches. They are not the smooth silken hands he remembers. These are hands he has to get to know again, just like everything else on Sirius.

The darker-haired man cups his calloused palm against Remus’ cheek and shifts in closer. The divan creaks and the springs groan under their weight. “Moony,” he mutters. His thumb, coarse and cracked with dry skin, sweeps over Remus’ cheek. Remus closes his eyes again and remembers how Sirius always used to do this just before he’d lean in and press their lips together. “Moony,” Sirius murmurs once again as he moves in and tilts his head.

Their lips brush together. It so scarce, it could almost go unnoticed. Remus parts his lips, yearning more, wanting to feel Sirius’ lips close over his. He feels the man’s balmy breath filter over his chin. “Padfoot,” he whispers back.

His whisper is permission for Sirius to lean in and claim his lips. A soft gasp escapes Remus’ mouth as he feels those warm lips embrace his. They, like Sirius’ fingers, are chapped and rough. They are nothing like the soft lips he knew from all those years ago. But his kiss is the same. It is smooth, gentle, soothing and caring.

He is filled with a sudden need, an urgent hunger for Sirius. He has gone so long without him. He has slept too many nights alone. He has woken up too many mornings wishing that he could roll over and slip his arm over Sirius’ warm body. As his cock twitches and quickly begins to fill out in his trousers, Remus moves his other hand to Sirius’ chest and claws at it. He balls the fabric of the man’s tattered shirt in his fist and pulls him closer.

Sirius kisses him deeper. Remus feels the man’s tongue slip past his lips. It is thick, hot and moist and Remus entwines his tongue around Sirius’. Their lips massage and knead over each other firmly. Their breath becomes faster and shallower. Sirius moves his hand from Remus’ face to his chest and presses against it, pushing him slowly. He needs Remus as much as Remus needs him.

Remus lies back, still gripping Sirius’ shirt and pulls the man down with him. They both shift on the aged divan until Remus is on his back and Sirius climbs on top of him. He feels Sirius’ hardness pressing against his. Their cocks pulse and twitch against each other. The kiss breaks and they breathe heavily, gazing at each other. Remus watches how Sirius’ grey eyes peer at him closely, taking in each part of his scarred face. He feels Sirius’ hand slide up from his chest. His calluses catch on the material of his shirt. He continues to slide his rough hand up Remus’ neck to his jaw and he clutches it firmly. He watches Sirius blink furiously again as a new wave of tears fills his eyes. He hears Sirius swallow thickly. “I don’t know your face anymore, Moony,” Sirius whispers in a choked voice.

“I know,” he replies sadly.

A wince escapes Sirius’ lips, as though something sharp has pierced his side and he quickly moves back down to claim Remus’ lips. This kiss is more passionate, deeper, longer and hungrier. It is within this kiss that their fingers fumble over each other’s shirts and pluck buttons from holes. The kiss is broken again, hot ragged breath billowing against each other’s chins and noses. Shirts are spread open, unfurled from shoulders and discarded to the floor.

Remus gasps when he catches sight of Sirius’ bare chest. It was once so muscular and lean. Now, it is skeletal. Pasty coloured skin, once tanned with a healthy glow, stretches over it tautly, as tightly as a scalp fits over a skull. Remus reaches forward and touches Sirius’ painfully thin chest gingerly, as though he is scared that he will break his brittle bones.

Sirius gazes down at Remus’ chest. There are more scars, new ones that weren’t there the last time they were together. “I’ve missed you, Moony,” he mutters again to Remus before shifting down his body and lowering his lips to Remus’ sternum.

He feels Sirius’ tongue touch one of the scars. Remus holds his breath as he feels the man’s tongue slither up the length of it, followed by a few soft kisses. He closes his eyes and relishes the feel of the man’s lips over his warm skin. He breathes shakily as he feels Sirius’ tongue sliding across every scar, tracing them, tasting them. Remus writhes on the divan and moans softly. Slowly, Sirius treks his tongue further down, following the scars down to Remus’ abdomen.

Remus moves his hands to Sirius’ hair and curls his fingers into it. It feels wiry and brittle under his touch, nothing like how he remembered it. It used to be soft and supple, thick and lustrous. As Sirius travels lower down his stomach, pressing a line of kisses down it, Remus\' cock throbs, eager to be free.

It is as if Sirius has read his mind. He pulls away from Remus to begin threading his belt from its buckle. Remus opens his eyes, pulls his hands from Sirius’ hair and gazes at him. He watches how the man stares intently at the task at hand, sliding the belt free and dropping the straps to either side of Remus. He swallows thickly as the darker-haired man plucks the button on his waistband open and then slides the zipper down.

“Padfoot,” Remus moans. He feels Sirius reach into the plackets of his trousers and brush his calloused fingertips over Remus’ cock. He arches his hips off the divan and dashes his hands to the man’s hair again. “Oh, god, Padfoot!” he gasps.

Sirius frees Remus’ prick from his clothing and grasps it at the base. Remus forces himself to open his eyes again and he watches how Sirius looks at his cock hungrily before opening his mouth and closing his lips over the throbbing length. Sirius sucks and swallows his throat around Remus’ cock eagerly, greedily, as though he is a man dying of thirst and this is his last source of water. Slowly, he begins to slide his mouth up and down the length, drawing it out until the tip is within his lips and then plunges his mouth back down the shaft.

Remus bites his lip to stop himself from crying out. He doesn’t want to wake Mrs. Black. He curls his toes and clenches his buttocks together, pressing his hips up towards Sirius’ face. Each glide of the man’s hot mouth over his cock, up and down, draws him closer and closer to release. Remus knows it won’t last long and for that reason he yanks at Sirius’ hair and forces the man to pull away from his cock.

It seems to pain Sirius more than Remus to break the contact. Sirius lets out a whine and looks up at Remus desperately, his dark eyes filled with need and lust. “Padfoot,” Remus says breathlessly.

That is all that he needs to say for Sirius to start tugging his pants down from his hips. He shifts on the divan and helps the man pull his pants off; toeing his shoes off before Sirius yanks his trousers over his feet. Sirius is just as quick to stand and unbuckle his belt and trousers. Remus gazes up at him and stares at his pale, thin body as he strips. His ashen skin glows eerily in the dim light of the room, accentuating each and every angle of his body. Bones jut out in harshly and there are deep canyons between each of ribs where flesh should be.

Tears prick Remus’ eyes. He used to know this body better than his own. He knew each and every ripple of muscle and expanse of skin. Sirius’ body is now as much a stranger to him as Sirius is himself. Remus quickly wipes his glistening eyes before tears spill over.

Sirius stoops down and props a knee up on the divan. “Turn over,” he mutters quietly as he places a hand on Remus’ hip. Remus shifts on to his stomach. The divan creaks and groans and he presses his face into the musty, faded cushions. Remus feels a palm, warm and sweaty, on his back as Sirius mounts the sofa and kneels between the lighter-haired man’s spread legs. Sirius’ hands swarm over Remus’ back. The roughness of his palm scuffs his skin as Sirius massages his muscles and traces his scars with scratchy, scabrous fingertips. Sirius is slow to feel over each scar. He touches them delicately, as though he is blind and has no means of sight except through his sense of touch. Remus presses his throbbing cock into the cushioned seat beneath him and groans as he feels the man’s abrasive palms sliding down to the swell of his arse.

Sirius bends over him and presses a few soft kisses to his shoulder blades. “God, I’ve missed you,” Remus hears him whisper against his skin. Sirius trails a line of kisses down his spine, touching each knotty vertebrate with his chapped lips down to the cleft of his buttocks. Remus can feel him tasting his skin, reacquainting himself with Remus after all these years. Sirius pries his cheeks apart. Remus gasps and arches his hips up in anticipation as a breeze of warm, sultry breath blows against his crevice.

Sirius administers a slow, moist and hot swipe of his tongue over Remus’ hole. Remus bites back a cry of pleasure. He feels another swipe of Sirius’ hot tongue, firmer and slower, slide up between the cleft of his arse. Sirius’ tongue swirls over his hole, traces up and down the length of his crevice and licks from his perineum to his pulsing band of muscles. Remus throws his head back and bites his lip firmly as he feels Sirius pull back and blow cool air over his saliva slicked fissure. A shiver runs up his spine and his skin breaks out into goose bumps. “Oh, god, Sirius,” he gasps quietly before letting his head slump forward on the pillow again.

Sirius pulls his cheeks apart wider and Remus feels his hot tongue breach him. He lets out another muffled cry and presses his hips up against Sirius’ face, urging Sirius to slide his tongue in deeper. He feels the man’s tongue withdraw and then quickly force back in, out and in, out and in. Remus hears Sirius moan and feels it vibrate through his tongue, which sends another shiver up his spine.

Remus begins to roll his hips in time with Sirius’ tongue dipping in and out of him, rubbing his prick on the rough, threadbare material of the divan. “Sirius,” he moans in a cracked voice. He is going to come; he can feel it. His balls are throbbing and his breath is short and quick.

Sirius quickly pulls away from Remus and, moments later, his fingers press against his entrance. Remus groans and tilts his hips up. Sirius’ fingers enter his tight cavity and he rolls his hips through each finger that enters him and stretches him. Sirius twists and pushes, probes and rubs his fingers deep into him until Remus is trembling and his breath is hitched and shaky.

He feels Sirius’ hand on his back again as the darker-haired man lowers himself between Remus’ legs. He takes in a sharp breath as the bluntness of Sirius’ thick cock presses against his stretched muscles. Slowly, Sirius works his way in, whining and mewling, his nails clawing and digging into Remus’ back. A few times, he hears Sirius curse and pant loudly as he slides himself in and out, stretching Remus, probing deeper and deeper until Sirius is fully within him.

They are still for a moment. Remus listens to Sirius’ quick breaths and relishes the feel of the man’s thickness in him. It has been so long since he has felt Sirius next to him, on him, in him. His hair, once sandy blond and now showing signs of graying, is stroked back by Sirius’ hand. He feels the man’s fingers curl in his hair and twist strands around delicately. “Moony,” Sirius breathes. He untangles his fingers from Remus’ hair, slides his hand down the length of his back and then moves his hips. He is slow and gentle. His cock glides between Remus’ rippling muscles, stretching him and filling him. Remus buries his face into the cushion and muffles his cries as their hips grind together rhythmically.

Remus thinks how different Sirius’ body feels against his. Their bodies still fit together like a jigsaw, but it doesn’t feel the same. Remus can feel bony hips against his. When Sirius leans over, he feels so much lighter than Remus remembers. He reaches behind him to touch Sirius and his fingertips meet the man’s bony ribcage. He runs his fingers up and down the side of it and feels the taut skin flex and shift with each of Sirius’ thrusts. There was once strong muscle there, thick and lean. Now it feels like he is touching a skeleton. Nothing feels the same anymore. Everything feels different and foreign. He is so glad to have Sirius with him, but he can’t help but think how much the man is nothing more than a stranger to him. It’s as if Sirius is like someone Remus used to know, someone he vaguely recognizes from the past.

Sirius slowly slides his hands down to Remus’ hips and curls his gnarled fingers in. He tugs Remus up, urging him on to his knees. Remus grips the cushion tightly as Sirius thrusts into him powerfully. Skin slaps together sharply and ragged breaths fill the Parlour room as they work towards release. Remus feels Sirius hunch over him as he reaches around to Remus’ front and curls his bony fingers around his prick. The brittleness of Sirius’ fingertips grazes the velvety skin on his cock as they work up and down his length in time with their rolling hips.

Remus writhes on the divan, curling his toes with each plunge into him. He trembles and feels his muscles in his body jerking as he approaches his climax. His cock thickens in Sirius’ hand and his balls rise up. Sweat trickles down his back in thin, clear rivulets, glistening in the dim light. Remus feels his stomach clench tightly and he lets out a muffled, strangled cry into the pillow as his ejaculate spurts forth over Sirius’ hand and on to the seat below him. He claws at the pillow, opens his mouth and clamps his teeth down on it to stop himself from crying out loud.

Sirius grips his hips tighter. His fingers dig into Remus’ flesh as his breath quickens and hitches. Remus feels the thrusting prick within him swell and stretch him further just before Sirius releases into him. Sirius fights back the urge to keen as he plows into Remus, emptying himself in tumescent waves of hot come.

Sirius thrusts one last time before he slumps over Remus, breathing heavily. Remus slowly slides his legs back out until he is lying flat and he feels Sirius pull his spent prick from his slick hole. For a moment, they lay still, Sirius on top of Remus, catching their breaths. Remus listens to Sirius and feels the way his gaunt chest expands and contracts against him. He sounds raspy, as though it is almost painful to breathe.

“Padfoot?” Remus asks in whisper. He turns his head to the side, pressing his cheek into the pillow, to peer up at Sirius. He can see Sirius has his eyes shut. He looks ghostlike in the dark room. “Padfoot?” he says again. Sirius pushes away from Remus as he turns on to his back. He then lowers himself to Remus again. Remus moves his hands to the man’s back. He closes his eyes as he runs his fingers across his ribs, down his spine, over his mottled skin, exploring him. Carefully, he entwines his legs with Sirius’ and pulls him close as he turns his head and buries his face into the crook of the darker-haired man’s neck. He feels tears well in his eyes and, silently, he begins to weep.

“Shh,” Sirius soothes. “Don’t cry, Moony.” He feels Sirius run his fingers through his hair again.

“It’s…It’s been so long,” Remus rasps, his voice hitched and choked with tears. “You’ve been gone for so long.” He drags his nails across Sirius’ back. His fingertips catch in each deep groove between the man’s ribs. “We might as…well be strangers, Padfoot.”

He feels Sirius continue to smooth his hair back. “Shh,” Sirius soothes again. “I’m never going away again, Moony. Never. I promise.” Sirius presses a kiss to Remus’ clammy cheek. “I promise,” he mutters again.

Remus digs his nails in deeply, clinging to Sirius as tightly as he can. Tears spill down his cheeks and he lets out a soft sob. He can’t help but think that he will lose Sirius again.

He can’t help but think that the next time he loses Sirius, it will be forever.