InsaneJournal

[FIC] Life through Inkstains: Remus/Sirius
Originally posted here on 15 September 2007

Title: Life through Inkstains
Requestor: tenderly_fierce
Author/Artist:
Rating: Hard R
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Summary: Sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words.
Warnings (if any): bit of angst, tattoos
Author's Notes: So many thanks to my betas, without whom, I would still be lost. So, to Y, J, T & L, all my love. Any remaining mistakes are my own. tenderly_fierce, I hope this meets and/or exceeds your expectations. Many thanks to thescarletwomanfor letting me participate and running this whole show. The quick sketches are done by myself and inspired by photos of Gary Oldman as Sirius Black in OotP.





Sirius is sixteen the first time he gets a tattoo. Deciding that he is finally free of his family and their pure-blood mania, he goes to a Muggle tattoo parlour and gets a rune tattooed on his stomach. When James asks him what it means, he laughs and says, "God". He feels like a god in those moments of freedom from his family.

They're back at school and the tattoo itches. He keeps scratching at his skin and tries to play it off as a joke. Prongs teases him that he has a rash and Sirius laughs and says that he's allergic to school. The four of them laugh but underlying all of it is what the tattoo means, its significance.

Sirius doesn't have a family any more and that doesn't mean that he's a god, no matter what he gets tattooed on his stomach. In reality, he's just a scared little boy playing at rebellion, but his friends help push that back. Or they would if they would just stop giving him those pitying stares when they think he's not looking.

He finally breaks when he catches Moony staring at him in the mirror in the bathroom. Sirius is trying to shave his lamentable lack of stubble when he looks up and catches Remus and his pity. Turning and snarling, he stalks over and gets right into his face. "Stop looking at me like that, just stop!"

"Like what, Padfoot?" Moony is calm, and that calm and placid expression pisses Sirius off more.

"You're pitying me, I know it. I can see it, not blind, am I? No, not at all, I see you staring at me all the time. I like being away from my family, I like being with the Potters. I like it better now, I'm happier now!" Sirius is yelling, and he feels sort of bad about it. He knows that Remus cares about him and that's where it's coming from but that's not enough. Their pity has to stop so he can stop pitying himself.

"Of course you are. I'm still allowed to worry about you, though. It's what friends do, remember?" Remus's face twists with the word 'friends', as if that isn't the word he really means and Sirius cocks his head, hair hanging in his face. Remus reaches a hand out and pushes the hair out of Sirius's face and laughs slightly. "You look like a dog when you do that. What's next, going to ask me for a bone?"

"Woof," Sirius says and then, laughing, licks Remus's face from chin to eye, right across the cheek. He expects Remus to laugh back but, instead, they just do this awkward stare thing and Sirius doesn't understand it at all.



Sirius gets his next one on holiday break. This one hurts like a bitch, stinging and itching and burning. It's so small for so much pain, just a little box with a line through it. When James asks him about this one and what it means, he says "friendship". James doesn't get it and Sirius doesn't feel like explaining about how the four of them create such a unit that they're like a house or a room with thick walls, protecting one another from everything outside and how, sometimes, Sirius feels like he's an outsider, like sometimes he can just go right through the walls because they're not really there. He doesn't tell anyone that it's not just his wall he feels like he can go through, sometimes it's Remus's too.

When they get back to school after the hols, Remus is the first to notice the second tattoo. Then again, Remus is the first to see him after the hols, and with the way Sirius is wearing his collar – wide open so everyone can see his newest mark – he'd better be the first to notice.

"Going to spend the rest of the year scratching at that one, too?" Remus asks and Sirius tosses him a rude gesture before he swings an arm over Remus's shoulder. He leans in and breathes deeply, inhaling and absorbing that scent that's so uniquely Remus.

"That's what I like about you, old chum, how caring and considerate you are when you're worrying over my flesh." Sirius tosses his head back and barks with laughter. James and Peter join in and Remus cuffs him across the back of his head.

"Just more concerned with listening to that damnable scratching all the time." Remus sounds far too blasé and Sirius can't stand to be brushed off like that so he leans in and snuffles at Remus's neck, loud and wet. Remus pushes him away with a laugh and mutters, "Knock it off, Snuffles."

"Snuffles? I like the sound of that. I think I'll keep it." Sirius leans in and snuffles into Remus's neck again and, this time, Remus scratches his head, just behind his ears. It's one of the best feelings in the world, that scritch of blunt nail against his scalp.

"Sodding wanker," Remus says without heat. Sirius grins and nestles further into Remus while James laughs at them both.



Sirius gets his next tattoo when he buys a house with the money his uncle left him. There's a freedom to living on his own, even if it's with inherited money and not anything he earns. He gets the rune for 'freedom' tattooed on his stomach, next to the first. It doesn't hurt nearly as much as the last one but it still itches.

He feels like that princess in the book, because when he makes a wish for someone to come and tend to his needs, Remus shows up on his doorstep with a cake from his mum. Sirius is overly jovial about the arrival, waving Remus in and making him bring the cake into the parlour.

"You're my first visitor, Moony, bet you feel honoured," Sirius boasts loudly.

"Quite," Remus replies, deadpan.

"Be a mate and rub some lotion on my stomach?" The question pops out unexpectedly. Sirius had meant to ask Remus to slice up the cake, serve them a piece each, but the tattoo really itches, itches so bad that it burns. The flesh is red and sensitive around the mark. Why he insists on going to a Muggle tattoo shop each time isn't something he's able to answer.

"That was fast." Remus cocks an eyebrow and Sirius laughs.

"Moony, you're the only one for me. Rub me down and fuck me good, yeah?" Sirius waggles his eyebrows and then undoes his shirt. "Seriously, though, be a mate?"

"The things I do for you," Remus mutters but he gets up from his seat and crosses to sit next to Sirius.

After pushing the flaps of Sirius's shirt wider, he grabs the soothing lotion and drips it onto the irritated flesh. Sirius hisses at the cold of it and then moans as Remus swipes his hand along his stomach, tracing the ridges and the marks.

"Freedom?" Remus asks while his hands work magic.

Closing his eyes, Sirius enjoys the touch, absorbs the gentle glide of fingers across his stomach and chest. He doesn't even hear what Remus says because he's too busy feeling and trying not to moan. If he moans, Remus'll laugh at him or pull back. One moan's enough, one moan means 'oh, that's nice' but two moans or three? That means, 'touch me, shag me' and Sirius can't help but wonder what those fingers would feel like sliding down his belly and into his trousers.

Under Remus's ministrations, Sirius collapses into the uncomfortable and stiff sofa, so far reclined that he's almost slipping over the edge. His cock is showing too much interest in the happenings and he concentrates on calming it down, Slughorn in a dress, Slughorn in a frilly pink dress with matching knickers. Slughorn and Snivellus in matching frilly pink dresses with matching knickers.

"You're growling." Remus's voice breaks the silence.

"Am I?" Sirius curses the breathiness to his voice.

"Yeah. It feel that good?" Remus's hands don't stop their moving and Sirius decides, fuck it, already giving things away, and he moans.

"Yes, don't stop, please?" The hand stills and Sirius reaches up and presses it flat against his chest. He finally looks at Remus and he sees the same confusion he's feeling reflected on Remus's face. "Please?"

"Alright." Remus's fingers curl against his chest and then they start to manoeuvre all over.

In that moment, Sirius feels freer than he had even when he'd bought his house.



Sirius is fresh from Hogwarts, NEWTs barely awarded, when he joins the Order of the Phoenix, along with James, Remus, Lily, and Peter. After a dinner spent looking at Remus and wondering if he wonders about the last time they'd been here in this parlour and the way he'd touched him, Sirius decides on another tattoo. This time, the rune merely says, 'need'.

They've survived the first foray into being members of an army. They're all high on the success of capturing a Death Eater. They'd done it, won a battle and saved a bunch of Muggles. The celebration involves copious amounts of alcohol.

With all the Firewhisky he's drinking, Sirius feels far too hot for his house so he strips his shirt off. That he can show off his tattoos is only a bonus. As he struts over to the bar to get another drink, he notices Remus staring at him from his spot on the sofa. Preening under the attention, he rubs at his chest.

"Got another one?" Remus asks and Sirius grins.

"That I did, mate, that I did. So kind of you to notice, Mister Moony." Sirius laughs as he responds and then takes an exaggerated bow. When he straightens, he strides over to stand directly in front of Remus, his chest at eye level. "You like it?"

"Need? What's that supposed to mean?" Remus's fingers trace the rune and Sirius shivers at the light touch.

To cover his reaction to Remus's touch, he forces a laugh. "Means I need you, of course. What's a Padfoot without a Moony?"

Remus looks up and he's got that odd look on his face, the one that Sirius can't figure out what it means but he knows it's something that he should know. The sounds of the others in conversation mute to a low rumble as Sirius watches Remus stare at his chin and they're, this, that, but, and, this, this, this… this is it. This is the moment when Sirius feels his heart tumble into his knees and then down to his feet. If Remus looks away, he's afraid that it'll tumble the rest of the way into the floor, leech away from him and he won't ever get it back.

Remus doesn't look away. Instead, his face twists into a smile that's almost a frown and Sirius grins back. Their friendship's changing and Sirius knows now that he really can walk through Remus's line of the box of friendship.



Sirius gets the next tattoo when his brother comes up dead. The loss twists through him, eating at the very heart of him and demanding vengeance. This time, he gets a large rune over his right breast, resting over his heart. Along the side of it, where line crosses line, he has the words 'I like a man who's good but not too good, for the good die young' tattooed in tiny script.

He's lying in his pants on the uncomfortable and stiff sofa amid the scattered empty bottles of Firewhisky and rum and ale. He feels lost and alone and he'd really like one of his friends to stop by, but considering the state he's in, he doesn't really want them to stop by at all. He'll say something, do something that he'll regret. He's self-aware enough to know that much.

It never fails that when he decides to drown himself in his sorrows, someone stops by, not that this is all that common of an occurrence. Ignoring the knock on the door, he summons a bottle of some sort of spirits – the flavour doesn't matter – and proceeds to drink. When the door pops open, he toasts it and then yells something that's meant to be "Go away" but really sounds like "Gerroafafk".

"Sirius?" Remus sounds concerned and Sirius glares with impotent fury.

"The fuck you think go away means?" It comes out sounding completely garbled but he knows what he means and Remus – Remus who should know him just as well as James who knows him best – walks in, ignoring his demand.

"You're drinking too much." It's a statement. There's no judgment in it, no bitterness, no chastisement, but Sirius hears all those things anyway because he knows he's drinking too much. Doesn't Remus know what the fuck just happened? Remus can't understand the gaping wound left by his last words to his brother: fuck off and die, you arselicking son of a bitch and I mean that last part completely. He can't get it because there is no one else in Remus's family left.

Instead of responding verbally, as the garbled messages don't seem too effective, Sirius grabs the bottle by the neck and hurls it towards Remus. Sirius watches as it spins through the air, spilling alcohol on every surface it can. As it approaches, Remus steps to the side, dodging it neatly. By the time it crashes into the wall, sending glass and alcohol spraying, Remus is pinning him down on the sofa. The weight is comforting, the way that Remus sits on his lap and holds his arms down with his knees pressed into his wrists. The hands touching his face, holding his head steady even as he struggles ineffectively against them, are gentle and Sirius finally calms a bit.

"This isn't healthy," Remus whispers as they stare at one another.

"He's gone, Moony, and I was a dick to him." Tears start and Sirius wants to dash them away, get rid of them, hide them back down in his gut where the alcohol had trapped them under a floating layer of numbness like ice covering a lake. Remus won't let him and Sirius cries harder when Remus's thumbs brush them off his cheeks. "He's gone and there isn't any coming back."

"I know, Snuffles, I know." The nickname breaks him apart just a bit further, just enough that he doesn't even feel the brush of lip against lip the first time it happens. All he can feel is the way that Remus's knees press into his wrists further and there's a sharp pain – some sort of feeling that he didn't want, that he wants back under that ice – and then there's warmth, spreading across his face. The brush of lips comes again. And again.

On the fourth one, Sirius kisses back, pushing as far forward as he can with Remus holding him in place. Remus lets up on his hands and they shoot up, grabbing the messy hair and tugging, holding him in place as he plunders Remus's mouth.

That something so beautifully divine could come because of such savage loss is an irony that doesn't escape him.



When Harry's born, Sirius gets his next tattoo. This one looks a bit like a goblet with three lines across the stem, one for Lily, one for James and one for himself. The box of their friendship from long ago is almost inside and the entire thing is surrounded by a quotation from Bob Dylan: He not busy being born is busy dying. His mother would roll in her grave if she knew he'd had words spoken by some Muggle written permanently on his chest. That only makes him grin more as he resists the temptation to rub at the raw flesh.

Harry's wiggling on his chest as he reclines on a sofa at the Potters'. Sirius is absolutely entranced by the baby, the way that he reaches out for Sirius every time he sees him and the way that Harry looks at him, actually looks, just like he can see right into Sirius and knows that he's got Sirius wrapped around his finger.

The baby's barely three months but Sirius can see the way that Harry'll make a brilliant Seeker with the way he's always reaching out for everything. Including Sirius's hair, which he pulls out of Harry's grasp with a wince of pain.

"I've plans for that, my young lad, fantastic plans that your young ears don't need to hear about," Sirius chastises with a laugh and Harry grins back at him as if he gets the joke.

"Corrupting my son already?" When Sirius looks up, he sees James leaning against the doorframe.

Grabbing one of Harry's little hands, Sirius waves it at James and then, in a high pitched voice, mimes, "Can't corrupt the wicked, daddy! Unca Sirius is the bestest bloke in the whole wide world."

James laughs as he comes in and sits on the chair nearest them. "Never would've thought to see you playing with a baby like that, Padfoot. Are we getting old?"

"Tosh! Speak for yourself! I am never going to grow old. Settling down and having babies is for you, my good man. I, however, prefer to live footloose and fancy free."

"Then what's this thing you have with Moony?"

Sirius's laughter stops abruptly as his gaze swings back to James. He hesitates as he scrambles for some sort of answer that might appease or distract because he doesn't know. They're just them, aren't they? They're just having a lark, sleeping together, falling in love. Sirius shakes his head with the last.

"Don't know," he finally mumbles.

"Find out before you go further." James stands and grabs the baby, making to leave the room.

"I'm not going to hurt him!" Sirius yells after, and he's not talking about baby Harry.

"See that you don't."



Next to his 'need' tattoo, Sirius gets the rune for 'love' tattooed on his stomach. It's about the only way he knows how to tell Remus.

When Remus shows up at half past six, Sirius is almost consumed by his nerves. His stomach burns from where the ink bled into his skin and he brushes his thumb across it. Remus follows the gesture and cocks an eyebrow before crossing the room. Slow fingers open up his shirt and Sirius's heart can't stop racing, won't stop the frantic beating against his ribs as the tattoo is revealed.

The skin is raw and red but Remus's fingers are gentle as he traces the rune with his index finger. Sirius watches his face, watches that concentrated look that he's never really been able to read. He wants to yell, demand that Remus answer in some sort of way, but the room is far too quiet as Remus traces the tattoo once more, tickling at the edges but light enough that it doesn't hurt much more than it already does.

"I…" Sirius breaks the silence but he doesn't quite know what he wants to say. Remus finally looks up, though, and then leans forward, pressing his lips against Sirius's. His hands snake up Sirius's sides, tugging the shirt free from the waistband of his trousers and then they're undoing his belt buckle, all before Sirius can feel Remus's tongue against his own.

Remus's hands are everywhere on him, undoing a button, sliding the belt from a loop, pushing his trousers and pants to the ground. It's happening much faster than he'd ever thought possible, had ever happened before. This is a new side of Remus and Sirius very much appreciates it as they walk backwards, stepping out of his dropped clothing that hangs up on his shoes. He stumbles but Remus doesn't miss a step, pushing him against the wall and holding him there. He's completely starkers while Remus is still completely dressed.

If James could see them now, not that he'd really want James to see them now as that would be sort of creepy, he'd see just what was going on between them, just how different Remus could be in these moments. Remus rips his lips from Sirius's and then roughly shoves Sirius's head to one side so he can clamp down on the collarbone that's just sitting there.

Sirius cries out at the sharp pain and then moans as Remus sucks it in and laves it with his tongue. Palms flat against his chest, Remus pins Sirius to the wall as he bites his way down Sirius's chest, nipping at each nipple and then licking across the abused flesh. There are little red marks across his chest that seem to match the angry red from his tattoo. Sirius comes to his senses enough that he spears his hands into Remus's hair and then, oh and then, Remus's lips are around the tip of his cock, sucking it in and then taking all of it until the head brushes the back of Remus's throat. He moans his appreciation for the blessing of Remus's lack of gag reflex as he starts to bob, pulling back with his tongue, skipping along the bottom, tracing the vein and then he pushes forward, sucking it in and deep.

When his balls start to tighten, Sirius pulls Remus's hair, stopping him, and Remus looks up questioningly. "Want you in me, come on, Moony, please, just please, fuck, stop that, I want you in me."

Remus can move quickly when he wants and he's standing before Sirius can say the last word. Their hands interfere with each other as they try to divest Remus of his clothing. Sirius would laugh at the fumbling but he's rock hard and the brush of hand against hand, the little breathless gasps as fabric brushes cock and the way that Remus keeps looking at him is all combining into sensory overload and he's going to come without any other sort of stimulation. Out of patience, he pushes Remus's hands away and removes the clothes with rough gestures.

"Fuck me, Moony, fuck me right here," he demands against Remus's mouth and Remus growls, the sound tickling his lips.

Those devious, deviant hands are back on his sides and then spearing down, grabbing a leg and pulling it up. With a grunt, Remus picks up the other leg and Sirius presses back against the wall as they manoeuvre until Sirius is sinking onto Remus's cock. He's not at all prepared for it, the burn makes him hiss and Remus kisses him and swallows the sound whole.

There's nothing gentle or beautiful about the way they're rutting against each other, flesh curled around flesh curled around flesh. Remus leans in and bites him again, hard enough that he's sure to have a mark, and Sirius revels in it, revels in the pain and the way that Remus is growling, completely mindless except for the feel of flesh grinding against flesh.

Sirius explodes with a cry, stars bursting into life in his vision almost like that fireworks display that he'd taken Harry to on Guy Fawkes Day. Remus snarls and then comes as well, biting Sirius one last time. Sirius can't hold himself up against the wall much longer and he starts to slide down, Remus coming along until they're both safely sitting on the floor.

"You like the new tattoo then?" Sirius quips and Remus grins.

"Yeah, that I do."

If he'd had a chance to get a tattoo for this moment, Sirius would've gotten a giant 'x' tattooed on his back, one who's lines met right over his heart because it sure as shit feels like a knife thrust through his heart as he stares down at the burnt remains of the house. By the time he tracks Peter down, the pain has sharpened so much that he can't feel anything but the rage and madness.

Padfoot paces the confines of the cell as the Dementors make their rounds. They'd stopped tormenting him as much a few years ago, back when they'd figured out they couldn't do much to the shaggy black dog with marks under his fur. They'd rather spend their time down the hall where his cousin screams bloody murder, vitriolic threats of revenge and the return of Voldemort.

When the Minister enters, Sirius requests the paper after a cordial conversation. The rat scurrying across the photograph of the Weasleys in Egypt catches his eye and he barely contains the roar of rage as the pain of loss envelopes him.

By the time the Minister leaves, Sirius has a plan.



When Sirius finally makes it to Hogwarts, he tears apart the Gryffindor Common Room and can't find anything. He avoids running into Remus, as that's something he can't possibly cope with right now, not after their history and the separation and the distrust even in the midst of the love. Mainly, though, it's the memory of love. There's no place for it, not now and not later. There can be no forgiveness for the way that Sirius had lost trust in Remus.

The giant 'x' on his back is testament enough to that.

That embrace in the Shrieking Shack has him shaking as his hands roam up and down Remus's back, over his face, across his chest. They're all watching and Wormtail is right there but revenge can wait, it can be pushed to the side for just a few minutes longer because Remus is hugging him, touching him with soft brushes against his cheeks. It's been so long, too long, and he's shaking at the feeling of it.

Sirius is so embarrassed that he's filthy and ragged and unkempt. What must Remus think of him after all these years? How they've all changed; Remus has gotten even thinner than he remembers and that's worrisome but not nearly as much as the continued presence of Wormtail in the corner.

As their arms tighten, he whispers, "I never stopped loving you," in Remus's ear and he wants to sob when Remus answers, "Me, too, Snuffles".

'Forever' sounds like a perfect tattoo to add to his collection.