westernredcedar (westernredcedar) wrote in pervy_werewolf, @ 2008-05-23 06:25:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | #lmom 2008, author: westernredcedar, kink: drug/alcohol use, remus/severus, remus/sirius |
LMoM: 1979 (Part 23~ July 20, 1979)
Title: 1979
Today’s Date: July 20, 1979
Rating: R
Word count: ~1,400
Pairing: Remus/Sirius (Remus/Severus mentioned)
Kink(s): some alcohol use, blink-and-miss-it frottage
Challenge: Lusty Month of May 2008
Summary: 1979: One of the worst years of Remus's life. Also, one of the best.
Today’s Episode: In the end, Remus couldn’t not go to James and Lily’s wedding.
Notes: The possibly insane blpaintchart has agreed to speed beta and Brit pick for as long as she can stand it while I try this…so generous is my Chart!! Anything remotely clever is probably her doing…:) Also, thank you to McKay for running this crazy thing.
Need to catch up? Here are the previous parts: Jan 1, Jan 15: Day, Jan 15: Night, Feb 2, Feb 9, Feb 20, Mar 10, Mar 24, Mar 25, Mar 25: Later, Mar 26, Mar 31, Apr 1, Apr 11, Apr 12, Apr 14, Apr 24, May 5, May 6, Jun 1, Jun 2, Jun 30
In the end, Remus couldn’t not go to James and Lily’s wedding.
Lily sent him a personal invitation in her own familiar, loopy handwriting, and enough time had passed to make the incidents with James seem like they were part of some nightmarish other life that he had led. Besides, they were two of his best friends. Weren’t they?
In the back of his mind, he knew he was also tempted by the prospect of the wedding food. Occasional part-time work for the Order was not paying for more than instant mash and spam fritters most nights. Wedding cake and a buffet were a strong enticement. He’d face almost anything for a plate of real roast beef and endless vol-au-vents. His ribs were becoming frighteningly prominent.
In the very deepest recesses of his mind, Remus knew he thought there was a very slim chance that Severus would be at the wedding. He imagined him, tormented and sneering, lured there by Lily’s personal invitation to her old friend, just like him. If she’d invited him, he would go, Remus thought.
And maybe that possibility, however tiny, was really the only reason he was going.
He wouldn’t think about that one too hard.
So, after the distraction of the July full moon had passed, he spent most of a dole cheque renting a set of formal dress robes, light blue with black trim and a ruffled shirt, persuaded Gideon’s sister into trimming his hair, and bought a small picture frame as a gift.
On the big day, he Apparated to the coordinates on the invitation, arriving near the Potter family’s garden, steeling himself up for a difficult afternoon. He walked towards the entrance. It was five seconds before he realized he was insane to think Severus would ever show his face here.
The first person he saw was Sirius.
He was in a set of tailored black dress robes, looking flushed and responsible, black hair shining, eyes bright, shaking hands at the gate as guests arrived. He was…beautiful.
Remus swallowed and was considering fleeing back down the street when Sirius saw him, met his gaze, and very slightly let his mouth twist into a smile.
Too late.
Mouth dry, Remus walked towards him.
Sirius extended his hand, and Remus did as well. “Moony,” Sirius whispered, and it was the most natural thing in the world to be pulled into his embrace. The hug went on just a moment too long, and Remus heard himself say, “Padfoot, mate, you look good,” in Sirius’s ear.
Sirius replied, “Of course I do, you tosser. I’m glad you came,” and then brushed his lips over Remus’s cheek, sending little shivers of danger through Remus’s body.
Sirius released him, but kept his hands gripped onto his shoulders, his eyes fixed on Remus. “I was fucking well out of line last time I saw you, Moony.”
Remus inhaled sharply. “No, Sirius.” He shook his head. “Actually, you weren’t.”
They stood there for a moment, just staring at each other, and Remus forgave him more with every passing second. Then the next guest was waiting behind Remus and Sirius had to let him go with a casual smile and a pat on the back. “I’ll find you inside.”
‘Inside’ was actually the side garden, where an overwhelming assembly of people Remus knew were mingling and chattering. He grabbed a glass of wine as soon as the first house elf wandered past with a tray, and found a quiet corner to hide in.
The wedding itself was short and simple, the small group of guests standing on the grass as Lily and James, both glowing, eyes only for each other, took their vows. From next to James, Sirius caught Remus’s eye and winked. Remus downed his wine, strangely nervous as James said, “I do,” and looked around for another glass.
The reception was held around a large U of tables behind the house. A patch of grass, spelled to sparkle with glitter, had been left empty for dancing, and a large buffet table, dominated by a no-melt ice sculpture of a Golden Snitch, was set up against the house. Remus slid into a seat next to Alice Tumwater, his NEWT-Level potions partner and one of his favorite people that he never saw anymore.
She kissed his cheek and hugged him tightly, and suddenly Remus didn't regret being there, at least for a moment. He helped himself to another glass of wine as he and Alice reminisced.
The obligatory hug with James was a complete disaster, as James looked about a million miles away, a soppy grin plastered on his face. The only hint that he even knew who he was hugging was when he murmured, “We ended even, didn’t we mate?” in Remus ear, making sure no one was looking, and then pumping his fist and jamming his tongue in and out of his cheek in the universal mime for blowjob. Remus flushed, horrified.
He didn’t know what to say to that, so he just ignored it and replied, “Congratulations, Jamie. You're a lucky man,” and turned quickly to hug Lily.
When the buffet was opened, Remus was fourth in line, and he stacked his plate high, and gorged himself, sitting by Alice and Frank, downing it all with another glass of wine.
Then the dancing started, and he just wanted to be alone.
He walked around the side of the house away from the crowd to a side staircase and sat, hidden in the shadows. He lit up a cigarette and inhaled, feeling heavy from his food, tired from the wine, and overwhelmed by the crowd and the twisted friendships and the history.
Moments later, Sirius peered around the corner. Seeing Remus, he smiled, and walked towards him.
Remus smiled back. Sirius he could handle.
“Aren’t you going to dance?” Sirius asked, holding out a hand.
“With you?”
Sirius shrugged and held out his hand again.
“Have you gone mad?”
“No. I want to dance,” Sirius said, but Remus did not move. “I see. Maybe I ought to go and find that Teresa? Remember her? She’d dance with me.”
“Your trannie girlfriend? That is a dangerous thing to joke about,” Remus replied, one eyebrow raised.
“Nah,” Sirius said, sitting down next to Remus on the step. “You know…I gave all that up.”
“What? Getting sucked off in transvestite dance clubs?” Remus asked, trying to keep a light tone in his voice.
Sirius grinned his best sheepish, scruffy-charm grin and said, “Yep. Quite a sacrifice.”
“You are a martyr,” Remus replied, knocking his shoulder against Sirius.
“Damn right. So…” Sirius asked the question they had both been thinking. “You seeing anyone now?”
Day, night, awake, asleep. I see him everywhere.
Remus shook his head. “No. I’m not.”
Sirius looked at him curiously. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
It was quiet for a minute. Remus pulled a long drag from his fag.
“You did that surveillance job for the Order, yeah?” Sirius asked.
Remus nodded. “Pretty dull. Listening in on codes.”
“Hmm.”
The music changed. Jeff Beck. Oh gods, James had selected the music. Sirius sniggered and stood up again, “Fuck it, if we have to listen to this crap, I want to dance, you plonker. Dance with me!” Sirius grabbed Remus’s hand and pulled him to his feet. Remus, swaying from the wine, dropped his cigarette and stamped on it as Sirius pulled him into an awkward ballroom dancing position.
“Sirius, no,” Remus complained, but not very hard.
“Ready. And. One, two, three. One, two, three,” Sirius instructed, and they waltzed, completely off the beat of Hi Ho Silver Lining, cracking up, Remus stepping on Sirius’s toes every other step. They slowly pulled closer to each other, until Remus could feel his cock stirring at the closeness, and a hard bulge in Sirius’s trousers was pressing into his hip. Sirius’s breath was hot on his neck, and memories of that body writhing over him and in him flooded Remus’s mind.
After weeks of miserable uncertainty and lonely, frustrating wanks, in the end Remus was the one who leaned in and dragged his tongue along Sirius throat, dropped his hand to that perfect arse, grinding into him, and pulling him into a deep, sloppy kiss.
Then the distant music changed, and Genesis really spoiled the mood. Sirius broke the kiss to let out a laugh.
“James and his bloody shit music. Wanker,” he snorted.
Remus shook himself to clear his head, but the blur of wine and arousal continued. “I think we should go and… eat more,” he stuttered, pulling away from Sirius. What the fuck was he doing?
Just then, the clink of glasses signaled the toasts were starting. Sirius looked up, panicked. “That's my cue! I've gotta go!” He straightened his robes, and then adjusted Remus’s lapels and gave him a smacking kiss on the lips. “I have to make a speech! Fuck.”
They ran around the corner and back into the party, running fingers through their hair and pulling on their robes, and trying their best to look like they hadn't been up to anything.