|Blame the Rain (Remus/Evan, PG-13)
||[Apr. 7th, 2014|06:51 pm]
Title: Blame the Rain
Pairing: Remus Lupin/Evan Rosier
Warnings: some cursing, non-graphic sex
Summary: Sometimes, when the world stops making sense, it's easier to blame everything on the bad weather.
In November the rain falls in heavy, icy sheets. The sky is dark and grey, sucking the last drops of color from the trees and the grass, painting the Hogwarts' grounds in greyscale tones. The air is thick and damp, saturated with the rain.
Remus dreads the full moon. Dreads it far more than he usually does. He can almost smell the rotten, soggy wood of the Shrieking Shack and feel the mud under him. All those things don't matter much when he's a wolf, but the memory and the anticipation are unpleasant.
The mornings and evenings all blend together – after nearly a week of rain the hours begin to run into each other. Remus is restless, pacing. His friends don't notice and he knows it's for the best. He wouldn't be able to give them a straight answer.
In the flickering of the common room fire, he thinks he can see his own death, can feel himself consumed by the burning of the war and his own desires and secrets. He doesn't think he's ever had this many secrets – not even when his friends did not yet know what he was. They still don't know who he is; funny how that happened just in the past week.
It's all useless, bloody useless. Remus blames the rain. It's easier to blame the rain.
The viewing platforms of the astronomy tower are wet from the rain that had sloshed in through the glass-less archways in the wall. The stones are cold underfoot and only Evan's body is warm pressed up against him. He comes out of the dark, like a phantom, and his arms encircle Remus' waist before he can make a sound. Evan moves with the silent grace of a demon.
He is a demon. Remus should know that.
Their mouths are warm against goosebump-covered skin the world spins around them like some dark vortex of hell. It's too cold to take off clothes, so Evan presses him against the stone wall behind him and fucks Remus with both their pants lowered just enough to make the act possible.
After, Remus tries to see through the dark. He wonders sometimes if Evan smiles or smirks when Remus comes all over his chest, whimpering and cursing. It's too dark to see and all Remus can hear is Evan's panting somewhere to his right.
He reaches out and finds the other boy's cheek with the back of his hand. To Remus' disbelief, Evan is crying.
But no, that's just the rain that has drenched their clothes and hair. It's easier to blame the rain.
Remus can't remember how he got here, why he had kissed the Slytherin boy and he never found out why Evan had held him in the first place or kissed him back. They almost never talked when they were together, and when they were apart, their communication was laid out in silent looks and gestures.
Please don't hurt my friends.
Only if they don't hurt mine first.
You're a fucking bastard with horrible morals
Says a werewolf.
In the daytime, Evan is all light. He sparkles with enthusiasm and hope and popularity. Remus hates himself for being attracted to the prick. He hates himself for acknowledging that Evan is gorgeous and funny and smart and probably the only Slytherin who would rather avoid conflict than cause it.
He is also the only one who regularly stands between Snape and James and Sirius. Remus hates himself for admiring him for it. Remus would rather hate Evan but he never could. Now he doesn't think he will ever be able to.
In the dark, Evan is a shadow, silent and shapeless. In Remus' imagination, he has no past or future, although that is certainly untrue. Remus comes back every time because he thinks he deserves this – to be fucked by a Slytherin who is probably halfway to being a Death Eater. If he can feel something – anything – for a man like that, anything other than disgust, then he ought to pay for it.
His punishment is the rain, the wet, anonymous darkness. He allows Evan to be rough with him; he needs Evan to be rough with him. The pain between his legs and around his swollen lips sucks up all the shame and guilt. Once, he bites his own lip so hard that it bleeds. The metallic taste saturates his mouth and suddenly, Remus feels like he's drowning.
He hasn't been able to come all night. The full moon is near and while Remus' libido increases during the preceding week, his ability for release tends to decrease. "Tell me what to do?" Evan offers in a husky whisper after his own release. It's the first time he's spoken and the soft concern in his voice is more than Remus can handle.
He lashes out, hitting Evan hard in the face. There's a wand at his throat then and in the glint of a spark from its tip, Remus glimpses the blood running like a stream of rainwater from Evan's nose.
He comes then. He hadn't been expecting it but it seems that Evan has, because the wand is gone and so is Evan.
Remus curls up on the wet stone floor and shivers. His entire body is shaking, as though the extra movement will fill up the empty space where Evan had been. The sudden, premature loss of warmth is more than he can take at the moment.
But he blames it on the cold and the never-ending, Merlin-cursed rain. It's easier to blame the rain.
The Aurors raid what turns out to be one of Voldemort's labs while Remus is in werewolf form. James informs him of this as they make their way back to the castle once Remus has regained enough strength to make the trip.
The rain has turned into first snow – tentative and wet, snowflakes mixed with raindrops. "They got some illegal potions," James prattles as Remus pulls his cloak tighter around himself. "Not much else. There were a couple of recruits there – put up a resistance, but the Aurors broke them right quick."
Remus feels a shiver electrify his body. "Who?"
He can feel more than see James shrug beside him. "I don't know. Some kids. Don't think they're from Hogwarts, but everyone's talking about it here too." The Great Hall doors open and the indoor light and heat wash over Remus in a stifling wave. He blinks and finds the Slytherin table with his eyes, skims across it until he sees Evan.
The other boy doesn't see him and Remus bites his lip, looking away. "Oh," he mutters distractedly, unsure of what he feels. Relief and shame at that relief, and an uncontrollable desire to see Evan again. He wants Evan to look up and smile at him like he is smiling at Snape and Wilkes right now.
"Are you alright, Remus? You're shaking."
Caught, Remus whips around to meet James' eyes. He wonders if his friend can see straight through him. But James is as oblivious as he always is and Remus chooses to be silent. Silence has become a habit over nearly seven years. "I'm fine," he lies. "I get cold easily after…I just wish it would stop raining already."
It's easier to blame the cold and the rain.
So much easier than admitting the truth. Not just to James, but to himself as well. Especially to himself.