The More Things Change
by Victoria P.

Remus remembers what this feels like. The soft-hard give of Sirius beneath his hands, supple skin and strong bones and hot flesh aching for his touch. He's dreamed of it for years.

Sirius gasps as Remus runs his tongue over the skin of his belly, arches and moans as Remus breathes on his cock.

They've spoken about this -- well, not about this exactly, but about how it would be a bad idea to jump into anything, how Sirius is a wanted man and has to stay free, because Harry needs him. And Remus isn't sure he can go through it all again.

But two weeks cooped up together in a small house, followed by the news that Sirius is going back to his hated childhood home, has led them to this.

A few Muggle beers and some bad Mexican takeout -- Remus has never liked cilantro -- and all of a sudden Sirius's lips were on his (the only way to enjoy cilantro, Remus believes, is on Sirius's tongue), and now here they are in bed together, as if no time has passed at all.

He licks the head of Sirius's cock, the salty taste triggering a thousand memories that flash through his mind like silver-scaled fish in the sun, then takes him in his mouth.

Sirius's hips twist and he moans Remus's name. Remus pushes him down onto the bed, holds him there with fierce fingers that will raise long purple marks beneath fair skin by the time this night is over. Sirius grabs his hair, tries to hold Remus still so he can fuck his mouth, but Remus is in control here. He's learned a few things in the years since they last did this. He opens his throat, taking Sirius in deep, and Sirius, who for years in that place couldn't even touch himself, comes hard in his mouth. Remus swallows, pleased at the look of sated bliss on Sirius's gaunt face. "That was incredible."

Remus smiles at the awe in Sirius's voice, moves up the bed, dragging his body along Sirius's, enjoying the feel of so much familiar skin against his own. Once upon a time, he'd known this body better than his own, known every scar, every angle. There are new things now, and Remus vows he'll learn them all -- the scar on the inside of Sirius's elbow, the scattered grey in his dark hair, his once-handsome face showing every line of bitter regret.

"Yes," he says, sweeping his tongue along Sirius's lips, opening his mouth to a playful kiss.

Sirius reaches down, fists Remus's cock, and Remus growls, hips bucking. Sirius smiles, and Remus can see the shadow of the boy he was in the man he has become.

"Cocky bastard," Sirius murmurs against his throat, and Remus huffs a laugh that turns into a groan.

Remus comes hard, the world exploding into shards of white light behind his eyelids. He rolls onto his back, spent, and opens his eyes to see Sirius grinning down at him.

Sirius licks his fingers and says, "Mmm, better than I remember."

For some reason, Remus finds this hilarious. He buries his face in Sirius's shoulder, laughing, clutching him tight. Sirius is still too thin; they both are, really, though Remus has given up on ever putting on weight. Two sets of old bones rattling around on the bed, curling up in soft, worn sheets and laughing at fate.

He kisses Sirius's shoulder and neck, lazily drags his lips over the fluttering pulse at the base of his throat.

This is better, time and distance making them both more appreciative than they ever were as younger men. Remus can't bear to think of what may happen in the coming months, once they've moved into the old Black house and work for the Order commences in earnest.

But all he says is, "Yes."

They fall asleep tangled around each other, and Remus doesn't dream.


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