Fic: Wordless for earthanthem
Title: Wordless
Author: yaycoffee
Giftee: earthanthem
Rating: PG-13
Word Count(for fic): 1400
Characters/Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Author/Artist's Notes: Thanks a GAJILLION to lurkitty and openingsalvo for the beta. Y'all win at life.
Summary: The words they don't say are the loudest of all.
Remus was road weary and drizzle drenched when he fit his key into the lock of his flat. Between the pads of his thumb and forefinger, he could feel the teeth of it as it worked through every mechanism inside. His hands were shaky, and he was already breathing deeply, trying to get that first gulp of home air into his lungs.
When the door swung open, he dropped his bag on the wooden floor in a hasty flump. He was already unbuttoning his shirt and calling, "Sirius? Sirius?" as he walked toward the bedroom.
He called again, but this time he realized that there would be no answer. The bed was made, records were in their places, the milk was sour, and there was an Order note for him on the kitchen counter, which Remus didn't need to read. Suddenly, the whole place felt disappointing, less like home, and Remus finished taking off his shirt as he started the water for a shower.
He fire-called James and Lily, who invited him for tea, and he went.
Lily was round and glowing, and James kept stealing glances at her belly when he thought no one was watching, and Remus thought he was an adorable combination of proud and excited and scared as hell. James told him that Peter had been gone for weeks, but that he did manage to pop a head in the fire every few days to check in, and no, Sirius hadn't been round, but Dumbledore says that he can't, so that, as they say, is that.
The flat felt even emptier when he climbed into bed. He rolled over to Sirius's side and breathed deeply into the pillow there. As he drifted slowly into sleep, he tried to imagine legs tangled with his and warm hands on his back, but he dreamt, instead, of cold cave floors and the smell of urine, of pointed teeth and red blood running in a sick ribbon, dripping from a greedy chin.
"Remus? Remus?"
He started awake, and it took a minute for his groggy brain to register the shadowed outline above him, the weight of a hand on his shoulder.
"You were dreaming," Sirius said, and Remus blinked his eyes twice to make sure he wasn't seeing things.
"Sirius?"
He sat up and wrapped his arms around Sirius's neck, holding him close before pulling back and sliding his hands around to either side of his face, just to look at him. "You're home? I didn't know when to expect you. James and Lily said--"
Sirius brushed a thumb over his lips, stilling them. "Yeah. I'm home now. Dumbledore said you were sent back earlier today. I tried to get here earlier, but Crouch needed reports."
Sirius stopped talking, and they looked at each other for a very long time. He'd gotten thinner, Remus noticed. Sirius's fingers found the new scar that ran from just under his right eye over to his jaw, just below his ear.
Sirius opened his mouth, as if to say something, but Remus didn't want to talk about it, so he kissed him. He wanted, just for this minute to not think about what he'd seen, what he'd done, what he'd missed. Remus grabbed at the hem of Sirius's shirt, pulling it over his head. Remus tried to ignore the bumpy bones of his spine and of his ribs that made Sirius feel like a stranger under his hands.
~*~
Remus came in, hands full of take-away curry and a six-pack of beer. He set it all down on the kitchen table and went to fetch Sirius.
Remus found him, as he usually did in the week they'd both been home--sitting in that ratty old green armchair in the bedroom, large headphones covering his ears as he listened to records at top volume. Remus could hear the tinny sound of electric guitar from his spot at the doorway. When Sirius saw him, he stubbed out a cigarette in an overfull ashtray and took the headphones off, making the music louder now in Remus's ears.
He gave Remus a small smile that didn't quite make it all the way to his eyes.
"Good record?" Remus asked.
"Well, can't go wrong with old Iggy, now can you?"
"I suppose not," Remus said. "I got some supper. You want?"
"Yeah," Sirius said, rubbing his unshaved chin and stretching deeply, so that Remus could see that his jeans were gaping off of him, barely touching his too-thin hips.
Sirius switched off the record player and dropped the headphones in the seat of the chair and silently followed Remus into the kitchen. He pulled two beers from the six-pack and opened them with a tap of his wand while Remus dished up the food.
The scraping of their forks on plates sounded harsh in the quiet flat, and Remus wondered when silence with Sirius became this awkward. This feeling of dissonance was new and unsettling, and Remus wracked his brain desperately for something to say.
The only thing he could think was, "Good chicken."
Sirius let out a grunt of agreement along with that horrible fake smile again, and Remus had the impulse to knock it clean off his face.
Sirius pushed around half the food on his plate before dropping his fork and taking the lot of it to the bin, dumping the leftovers and putting his plate in the sink. He walked back to the bedroom with his beer, and Remus finished his supper and picked up a book to read, hoping that words on a page would make the silence somehow okay.
Half an hour later, Sirius came back for another beer, and Remus looked up from his book. He took a deep breath and said, "So, is this how it's going to be now, then?"
"What?"
"This, Sirius. This--you in that room and me in this one, and us saying things to each other like 'good chicken?'"
Sirius looked taken aback for a moment before he smirked. "You're the one who said 'good chicken,' you know."
"Shut up, Sirius. You know that's not what I mean."
Sirius scratched his head and dug around in his back pocket for his pack of smokes, which he found and then shook one out. He held it between his fingers, studying it for a minute. Then, he calmly walked out the front door, and Remus watched him through the window as he lit the cigarette and sat down on the stoop.
It was early March, so it was still cold at night, and Remus could see gooseflesh on Sirius's arms, where the short sleeves of his faded black tee shirt ended high over his bicep. Remus pulled on a jumper and grabbed Sirius's jacket from the hook by the door.
He walked out and handed it to Sirius as he sat down next to him, grabbing the cigarette from Sirius's fingers and taking a long drag himself before handing it back. The smoke bit into his lungs, but he held it there a long time before exhaling.
"What happened out there, Sirius?
Sirius cleared his throat and spat on the ground and took another long drag. He let it out in two long streams at his nostrils, and he scratched his lower lip with his thumbnail before nibbling on it. Now Remus knew, with even more certainty, that this was something big.
When Sirius spoke again, his voice was soft. "Well. What about you, Remus? How many more nights are you going to wake up from nightmares? How many more nights are you going to not sleep? I'm not the only one not talking."
Remus wanted to protest, but he shut his eyes, and he knew what Sirius said was true. He saw red, red blood against pale skin, and he knew he could never tell Sirius what it was like to watch Greyback rip the throat out of an eight-year-old child, what it was like to have to go through the change without him in a place that was cold and lonely and much too far away.
Sirius reached over and cupped his hand on the back of Remus's neck, and Remus leaned into the touch, wrapping his cold fingers around Sirius's wrist. Sirius handed him the cigarette, and Remus took the last drag left before throwing it on the ground. Sirius stubbed it out with the toe of his boot.
*fin*
Author: yaycoffee
Giftee: earthanthem
Rating: PG-13
Word Count(for fic): 1400
Characters/Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Author/Artist's Notes: Thanks a GAJILLION to lurkitty and openingsalvo for the beta. Y'all win at life.
Summary: The words they don't say are the loudest of all.
Remus was road weary and drizzle drenched when he fit his key into the lock of his flat. Between the pads of his thumb and forefinger, he could feel the teeth of it as it worked through every mechanism inside. His hands were shaky, and he was already breathing deeply, trying to get that first gulp of home air into his lungs.
When the door swung open, he dropped his bag on the wooden floor in a hasty flump. He was already unbuttoning his shirt and calling, "Sirius? Sirius?" as he walked toward the bedroom.
He called again, but this time he realized that there would be no answer. The bed was made, records were in their places, the milk was sour, and there was an Order note for him on the kitchen counter, which Remus didn't need to read. Suddenly, the whole place felt disappointing, less like home, and Remus finished taking off his shirt as he started the water for a shower.
He fire-called James and Lily, who invited him for tea, and he went.
Lily was round and glowing, and James kept stealing glances at her belly when he thought no one was watching, and Remus thought he was an adorable combination of proud and excited and scared as hell. James told him that Peter had been gone for weeks, but that he did manage to pop a head in the fire every few days to check in, and no, Sirius hadn't been round, but Dumbledore says that he can't, so that, as they say, is that.
The flat felt even emptier when he climbed into bed. He rolled over to Sirius's side and breathed deeply into the pillow there. As he drifted slowly into sleep, he tried to imagine legs tangled with his and warm hands on his back, but he dreamt, instead, of cold cave floors and the smell of urine, of pointed teeth and red blood running in a sick ribbon, dripping from a greedy chin.
"Remus? Remus?"
He started awake, and it took a minute for his groggy brain to register the shadowed outline above him, the weight of a hand on his shoulder.
"You were dreaming," Sirius said, and Remus blinked his eyes twice to make sure he wasn't seeing things.
"Sirius?"
He sat up and wrapped his arms around Sirius's neck, holding him close before pulling back and sliding his hands around to either side of his face, just to look at him. "You're home? I didn't know when to expect you. James and Lily said--"
Sirius brushed a thumb over his lips, stilling them. "Yeah. I'm home now. Dumbledore said you were sent back earlier today. I tried to get here earlier, but Crouch needed reports."
Sirius stopped talking, and they looked at each other for a very long time. He'd gotten thinner, Remus noticed. Sirius's fingers found the new scar that ran from just under his right eye over to his jaw, just below his ear.
Sirius opened his mouth, as if to say something, but Remus didn't want to talk about it, so he kissed him. He wanted, just for this minute to not think about what he'd seen, what he'd done, what he'd missed. Remus grabbed at the hem of Sirius's shirt, pulling it over his head. Remus tried to ignore the bumpy bones of his spine and of his ribs that made Sirius feel like a stranger under his hands.
~*~
Remus came in, hands full of take-away curry and a six-pack of beer. He set it all down on the kitchen table and went to fetch Sirius.
Remus found him, as he usually did in the week they'd both been home--sitting in that ratty old green armchair in the bedroom, large headphones covering his ears as he listened to records at top volume. Remus could hear the tinny sound of electric guitar from his spot at the doorway. When Sirius saw him, he stubbed out a cigarette in an overfull ashtray and took the headphones off, making the music louder now in Remus's ears.
He gave Remus a small smile that didn't quite make it all the way to his eyes.
"Good record?" Remus asked.
"Well, can't go wrong with old Iggy, now can you?"
"I suppose not," Remus said. "I got some supper. You want?"
"Yeah," Sirius said, rubbing his unshaved chin and stretching deeply, so that Remus could see that his jeans were gaping off of him, barely touching his too-thin hips.
Sirius switched off the record player and dropped the headphones in the seat of the chair and silently followed Remus into the kitchen. He pulled two beers from the six-pack and opened them with a tap of his wand while Remus dished up the food.
The scraping of their forks on plates sounded harsh in the quiet flat, and Remus wondered when silence with Sirius became this awkward. This feeling of dissonance was new and unsettling, and Remus wracked his brain desperately for something to say.
The only thing he could think was, "Good chicken."
Sirius let out a grunt of agreement along with that horrible fake smile again, and Remus had the impulse to knock it clean off his face.
Sirius pushed around half the food on his plate before dropping his fork and taking the lot of it to the bin, dumping the leftovers and putting his plate in the sink. He walked back to the bedroom with his beer, and Remus finished his supper and picked up a book to read, hoping that words on a page would make the silence somehow okay.
Half an hour later, Sirius came back for another beer, and Remus looked up from his book. He took a deep breath and said, "So, is this how it's going to be now, then?"
"What?"
"This, Sirius. This--you in that room and me in this one, and us saying things to each other like 'good chicken?'"
Sirius looked taken aback for a moment before he smirked. "You're the one who said 'good chicken,' you know."
"Shut up, Sirius. You know that's not what I mean."
Sirius scratched his head and dug around in his back pocket for his pack of smokes, which he found and then shook one out. He held it between his fingers, studying it for a minute. Then, he calmly walked out the front door, and Remus watched him through the window as he lit the cigarette and sat down on the stoop.
It was early March, so it was still cold at night, and Remus could see gooseflesh on Sirius's arms, where the short sleeves of his faded black tee shirt ended high over his bicep. Remus pulled on a jumper and grabbed Sirius's jacket from the hook by the door.
He walked out and handed it to Sirius as he sat down next to him, grabbing the cigarette from Sirius's fingers and taking a long drag himself before handing it back. The smoke bit into his lungs, but he held it there a long time before exhaling.
"What happened out there, Sirius?
Sirius cleared his throat and spat on the ground and took another long drag. He let it out in two long streams at his nostrils, and he scratched his lower lip with his thumbnail before nibbling on it. Now Remus knew, with even more certainty, that this was something big.
When Sirius spoke again, his voice was soft. "Well. What about you, Remus? How many more nights are you going to wake up from nightmares? How many more nights are you going to not sleep? I'm not the only one not talking."
Remus wanted to protest, but he shut his eyes, and he knew what Sirius said was true. He saw red, red blood against pale skin, and he knew he could never tell Sirius what it was like to watch Greyback rip the throat out of an eight-year-old child, what it was like to have to go through the change without him in a place that was cold and lonely and much too far away.
Sirius reached over and cupped his hand on the back of Remus's neck, and Remus leaned into the touch, wrapping his cold fingers around Sirius's wrist. Sirius handed him the cigarette, and Remus took the last drag left before throwing it on the ground. Sirius stubbed it out with the toe of his boot.
*fin*