Fic - Remus/Sirius - R - And Left Unsaid Some Things - for epithalamium
Title: And Left Unsaid Some Things
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters/Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Summary: Sirius has a lupin tattoo.
Rating: R
Contains: angst (as ever)
Word Count: 500
Notes: epithalamium is probably my favourite R/S artist ever, and she drew this gorgeous piece wherein Sirius has a tattoo of a lupin plant on his shoulder. It immediately became my new headcanon and she definitely didn't ask me to write fic for it, no she didn't. ;) Anyway, I hope you like this, sweetie! Sorry it's not in the original spirit of the tattoo being a bit jokey, but you know I can't help torturing these two. Written as flash fiction, title taken from this beautiful poem, which I really ought to use as inspiration for a longer piece.
Remus’s lips are barely touching Sirius’s skin as he presses soft, gentle kisses, lighter than the brush of a butterfly’s wing, along the back of Sirius’s neck. Sirius is lying on his stomach on their bed and Remus is on top of him, between his legs, stretched out along his back, skin-to-skin, warmth and heart and home. The tips of Remus’s long fingers, slightly yellowed due to his filthy smoking habit, trace the line that runs through the heart of Sirius’s tattoo, following the curve of his shoulder blade until he reaches the root of the lupin plant that Sirius has had etched into his skin.
They had been fighting, before, standing at opposite ends of the kitchen and shouting at one another. Remus had been making tea and didn’t stop in his task when Sirius came in and accused him of whatever it had been, his movements becoming increasingly jerky as he slammed the kettle down on the hob and threw the cupboard doors shut as Sirius shouted and shouted and he shouted back everything that he thought when he lay awake at night, everything he thought when Sirius wasn’t here, with him, home.
Sirius had turned on his heel and disapparated with a crack, disappeared for five long hours. He’d come back after nighttime had fallen over the cottage, leather jacket slung over one shoulder, his hair loose and falling over his face. Remus had sat hunched up at the kitchen table, cigarette in hand, and hadn’t turned round, didn’t acknowledge Sirius until a warm hand had curled round the back of his neck and squeezed exactly where he held all his tension.
‘I’m sorry,’ Sirius had said. Remus had nodded and stood up.
‘Tea?’ he’d asked, picking up his own undrunk mug, still not turning, still not looking at Sirius.
‘Take me to bed,’ Sirius had whispered.
Remus had nodded.
Now, Remus’s lips move across and down along the tattoo of the lupin plant on Sirius’s back, his hands bracketing Sirius’s sides.
‘It’ll all be over soon,’ he murmurs, using his nose to nudge Sirius’s hair out of the way of his ear, biting down gently on the lobe, then the helix, one hand moving up to rest over Sirius’s tattoo, fingertips clutching at the skin as if it’s something that Remus can hold on to and keep and never, ever let go. ‘And everything will be fine.’
Sirius nods. Remus knows he doesn’t believe it. Remus doesn’t believe it either.
‘I love you,’ he whispers against Sirius’s neck, quiet, so quiet. He rubs his hand back and forth ever so slightly over the tattoo, over the pale pinky-purple of the lupin’s flowers that stretch across Sirius’s skin for nearly a foot. ‘I love you so much.’
‘I love you too,’ Sirius replies, a sad mumble into the bedclothes.
At least they can both believe that. At least, they still have that.
For a while.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters/Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Summary: Sirius has a lupin tattoo.
Rating: R
Contains: angst (as ever)
Word Count: 500
Notes: epithalamium is probably my favourite R/S artist ever, and she drew this gorgeous piece wherein Sirius has a tattoo of a lupin plant on his shoulder. It immediately became my new headcanon and she definitely didn't ask me to write fic for it, no she didn't. ;) Anyway, I hope you like this, sweetie! Sorry it's not in the original spirit of the tattoo being a bit jokey, but you know I can't help torturing these two. Written as flash fiction, title taken from this beautiful poem, which I really ought to use as inspiration for a longer piece.
Remus’s lips are barely touching Sirius’s skin as he presses soft, gentle kisses, lighter than the brush of a butterfly’s wing, along the back of Sirius’s neck. Sirius is lying on his stomach on their bed and Remus is on top of him, between his legs, stretched out along his back, skin-to-skin, warmth and heart and home. The tips of Remus’s long fingers, slightly yellowed due to his filthy smoking habit, trace the line that runs through the heart of Sirius’s tattoo, following the curve of his shoulder blade until he reaches the root of the lupin plant that Sirius has had etched into his skin.
They had been fighting, before, standing at opposite ends of the kitchen and shouting at one another. Remus had been making tea and didn’t stop in his task when Sirius came in and accused him of whatever it had been, his movements becoming increasingly jerky as he slammed the kettle down on the hob and threw the cupboard doors shut as Sirius shouted and shouted and he shouted back everything that he thought when he lay awake at night, everything he thought when Sirius wasn’t here, with him, home.
Sirius had turned on his heel and disapparated with a crack, disappeared for five long hours. He’d come back after nighttime had fallen over the cottage, leather jacket slung over one shoulder, his hair loose and falling over his face. Remus had sat hunched up at the kitchen table, cigarette in hand, and hadn’t turned round, didn’t acknowledge Sirius until a warm hand had curled round the back of his neck and squeezed exactly where he held all his tension.
‘I’m sorry,’ Sirius had said. Remus had nodded and stood up.
‘Tea?’ he’d asked, picking up his own undrunk mug, still not turning, still not looking at Sirius.
‘Take me to bed,’ Sirius had whispered.
Remus had nodded.
Now, Remus’s lips move across and down along the tattoo of the lupin plant on Sirius’s back, his hands bracketing Sirius’s sides.
‘It’ll all be over soon,’ he murmurs, using his nose to nudge Sirius’s hair out of the way of his ear, biting down gently on the lobe, then the helix, one hand moving up to rest over Sirius’s tattoo, fingertips clutching at the skin as if it’s something that Remus can hold on to and keep and never, ever let go. ‘And everything will be fine.’
Sirius nods. Remus knows he doesn’t believe it. Remus doesn’t believe it either.
‘I love you,’ he whispers against Sirius’s neck, quiet, so quiet. He rubs his hand back and forth ever so slightly over the tattoo, over the pale pinky-purple of the lupin’s flowers that stretch across Sirius’s skin for nearly a foot. ‘I love you so much.’
‘I love you too,’ Sirius replies, a sad mumble into the bedclothes.
At least they can both believe that. At least, they still have that.
For a while.