mutterings of a music history major (thescarletwoman) wrote in pervy_werewolf, @ 2008-05-10 23:21:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | #lmom 2008, author: thescarletwoman, kink: anonymous sex, remus/? |
LMoM 10: The Barren Years
Title: The Barren Years
Author: thescarletwoman
Rating: R/NC-17ish
Pairing: Remus/?
Kink(s): anonymous sex
Challenge: LMoM 2008
Word Count: ~1000
Summary: A brief look at the decade of the 1980s in the life of Remus Lupin.
Notes: Continuing in the same arc. Due to a meeting with a rather unusual woman, Remus finds that it's sex before the full moon that helps to ease his transformations. To Rose for the uber-speedy beta. :*
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10
When the fall of Voldemort comes, Remus knows he should be feeling a myriad of emotions: happiness, relief, elation. Or any number of other syllables that mean 'ding dong, the bastard's dead'. Instead, all Remus feels is grief. He's heartsick to, not only have lost James and Lily and Peter, but Sirius to Azkaban as well. Sirius's betray has to be the hardest for him to swallow. Sirius, the man he had adored, the man who loved James more than was healthy. The three of them had slept together, had cried together, had fucked together, had lived together -- and this is how Sirius repays them.
Remus is sick to his stomach. The more he thinks about the deaths and the betrayal, the worse he feels. These are the men he had given so much of his life to and now... there is nothing.
This time, the silence is so unwelcome and Remus wishes he could find something to fill the emptiness. In the space of only a few hours, he has lost everything.
There's no reason for him to stay in the Wizarding world. Here, he's a pariah, an outcast, even if in his own mind. Perhaps he would do better to live as a Muggle. He'll have to find ways around his Lycanthropy, of course. But he's sure he can figure out enough excuses to last a lifetime and decides on a couple of backup plans: multiple part-time jobs should do the trick. Less chance he'll miss the same days repeatedly for the moon and if he does, there are others to fall back on. It's a foolproof plan.
While the rest of the Wizarding world celebrates the joyous occasion, Remus quietly packs his bags. He can hear, outside his flat, the sounds of celebrations ringing through the air. They cheer, and he dismantles what little is left of his life. They celebrate rebirth and he celebrates death.
When Remus leaves his flat, he doesn't look back. He makes his way from Wales, deciding to try his luck in Manchester before travelling either north to Glasgow or south to London. Manchester seems as good a place as any to re-start his life.
He manages to find a small cottage on the outskirts of the city. A place where he can safely transform without alerting neighbours but close enough to slip into the city to satisfy his desires when he needs to. Remus no longer has his built-in calming sex during the month, no longer has the men and women he'd turn to in order to ease his transformations.
Remus is completely and totally alone.
The clubs become his sanctuary. There, he's nothing more than another faceless man, finding comfort in the arms of someone he'll forget in the morning. He fucks without a conscious, without caring to know names. The less he knows, the better.
He can't bring himself to use the glory holes in the back room, but he has no issue making good use of the come-covered couches. He ignores the sign on the bathroom doors (No sex in the stalls. That's what the couches are for) and presses his partner against the grimy metal dividers as he pounds into him.
Occasionally he finds a partner or two to bring back to his flat. Remus is more adventurous now, trying his hand with two women, a man and a woman... and on rare occasion two men. That one, though, is harder. Too often he thinks of the nights he spent between Sirius and James, fucking one mouth while he was being fucked. The memories are too painful so he tends to stray to other permeations. It's safer that way.
He winds up with a few STDs over the years, but nothing incurable and nothing that does any lasting damage. He waits long enough for whatever ailment he has to clear up and then he's back at the club. He never fucks the same person twice, male or female. No, he has... but only if there are others involved.
Remus loses himself in the fucking, in the giving over of his body to someone else for a time. He doesn't think then, all that goes through his mind is pleasing his partner. Sucking a cock into his mouth, fingering the arsehole. Finding her clit with his thumb while his tongue teases her slick inner folds. Sex is the best distraction in the world and sometimes, just sometimes, Remus is able to forget his previous life. He forgets when he's deep inside his partner, spilling hot come inside them. In those brief moments he ceases to be the victim of so much pain.
Instead, he's the harbinger of pleasure.
Remus never spends the night with any of his conquests. They fuck, nap a bit, and fuck some more -- but there's never any sharing of a bed for longer than absolutely necessary. To share a bed leads to an emotional tie and Remus has no desire of creating that ever again.
He spends the whole of the 1980s like this, and in the underground world of Manchester's sex clubs, Remus is a veritable god. He's the man women want to sleep with and the one the men wish they were. His scars aren't hated, rather they're something every one of his partners covets.
And thus he lives... until he's forced back into the Wizarding world by one owl.
Albus Dumbledore cannot leave well enough alone.
He never could.