InsaneJournal

Current mood:	anxious
Current music:	'We Don't Want to Leave Eden' - Sue and the Unicorn
Entry tags:	fandom: harry potter, pairing: remus/sirius, rating: pg-13

January R/S 500 Fic: Rockland
Title: Rockland
Author: arcadian_dream
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, heinous pillaging of a classic poem.
Disclaimer: I don’t own the puppies, nor do I own Allen Ginsberg's 'Howl'. Obviously. Very obviously.
Word Count: about 770
Challenge (Recipient, keywords, and dialogue): brighty18; howl, irresistible, overwhelming; "Easy now, love, I'm here …"
Summary: It is the morning after Remus and Sirius' first night together since Sirius' escape from Azkaban.
Author's Notes: Erm, I thought I'd try something a little different here. Unfortunately, I'm no poet, so it's probably wound up a bit of a shambles.

"Tea?" Remus asked as he rose from the tangled covers of the bed.

"Hmm?" Sirius croaked in reply as he wiped the sleep from the corners of his eyes.

"Tea? I could do with a cuppa, I just wanted to know if you would like one?"

"Oh, yes. Certainly. Thanks, Moony." Sirius smiled a slightly wonky smile – he could not quite believe that he had found his way back here, to this bed, to Remus after all he – they – had endured.

"Righto," Remus said as hitched his briefs up over his pale, slender thighs, "Coming up," he whispered as he leaned across the bed to place a lingering kiss on Sirius' chapped lips.

As Remus' footfalls faded, Sirius shifted in the bed. He raised himself up, leaning against his pillows, and gazed about him. The morning light ranged over the contents of the bedroom, illuminating the trousers that hung over the end of the bed; the pairs of shoes neatly aligned beside the wardrobe that loomed in the corner; the books and papers that lay, stacked, over every available surface.

Even the floor! Sirius thought as he spied a small stack beside the bed. Stretching, he reached for the book sitting atop the miscellaneous papers. Sirius ran his finger along over the cover of the book. Specks of dust collected on warm pink skin as he flicked the cover open.

"Howl", he muttered. He flipped the pages, the sudden breeze expelling the scent of many years spent, stowed away, hidden.

He turned the book over in his hands, his eyes scanning the words on the back cover, before opening it once more.

He remembered this book,
This poem.

He remembered Remus sitting on the bed with his legs crossed,
His eyes scouring the words on the page,

He remembered the smile on his thin lips when Sirius walked over and,
Curious, peered over his shoulder,
And how he had needed to ask Remus about what it all meant –

Just to be sure – he wanted to be sure

And how they had sat and talked about it all and how Sirius had felt as the irresistible tide of The words washed over him,
And through him

And how many times Remus had snuck up and taken the book from his hands,
Flinging it to one side as he kissed him firmly on the mouth and felt the strength and conviction of the other boy's tongue for the very first time

And how it had felt more right than anything he'd ever known,
And Sirius knew it was the only place in the entire world he would be

He remembered the way he had told Remus that he would always be with him –

"In Rockland," Sirius had said –

And Remus had laughed and explained that Rockland was a mental hospital and Sirius replied that he didn't care it would all be OK - as long as they were together

And he remembered the way that Remus had blushed and punched him on the arm,
Which became playful wrestling on the bed,
Became careless fingertips and eager lips,
Became desperate kisses and insistent tongues,
Became frantic thrusts and shuddering exultations of release

And he remembered last night, when he and Remus had re-discovered each other's touch, And how achingly perfect the resumed cacophony of their grunts and moans had sounded to his ears as their hearts took tentative steps toward one another again.

Sirius remembered all these things as he read. The incessant wave of emotion consumed him, eroding the walls of so many lost years. The greying print on the yellowed pages began to blur, the shapes becoming indistinct through burgeoning tears.

He felt Remus' hand on his shoulder, the fingers closing slowly over his collarbone. Sirius let the book fall from his hands, and turned his head to face Remus.

"Hey," Remus whispered, "Hey."
Apprehending the tears streaming silently over Sirius' hollow cheeks, he pulled him close.

"Easy now, love, I'm here," he said as he held Sirius to his chest.

Sirius, overwhelmed by every feeling he had needed to deny himself over the past twelve years, let out a shuddering sob as he collapsed against – into – Remus.

As Remus' thin arms held Sirius together through each wracking sob, he whispered in his lover's ear:

"I'm with you in Rockland
in my dreams you walk dripping from a sea-
journey on the highway across America in tears
to the door of my cottage in the Western night."

And, as he uttered the familiar words Remus could feel, through the hot tears that prickled against his own bare skin, the curve of a smile on Sirius' lips.

He remembered.