To do with you what the moon does with werewolves

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With the first light of dawn, the wolf's flesh shrinks, the eyes of the animals lose color and are falling apart. Shivering, exhausted, devoid of the wolf, with the morning, the only man remains. Lying on the ground, in the Shrieking Shack. Normally, noises wake him up, the running footsteps of the rat, the footsteps of his friends, the screeching of wood under their feet. Sometimes their voices. 'Wake up, Remus, it's over'. "Come on, Moony, we have to go back to school". "Upstairs, Lupin, it's daylight", and occasionally, the piano keys. That morning, the dog wakes him up.

It is not his barking or the gentle nudges with his snout. It's his tongue. First in the hands, and it felt so warm that, although he already woke up, Remus doesn't want to open his eyes. Later, in his face. In the cheeks, near the neck. It gently licks him to wake him up with the dawn and when Remus half-opens his eyes, the dog stays still for a second, measuring his reaction.

-I'm fine- he manages to say. - I'm up now.

But he makes no intention to move and once, just once more, the dog reaches out and licks again, a little closer to the neck. Just a little more closely before the stag and rat come and turn into James and Peter and help him get up off the ground while the dog transforms and Sirius looks at him, that hungry doggy expression that shakes all his inland tides. He walks him into the room silently and helps him to lie down in bed and it will always be Sirius Black, the only animal he imagines exploring each and every one of his scars.

"If you want to lick me, my body is yours".

- You're good?

Remus nods. He doesn't have the strength to speak. Sirius orders him to rest and loves his voice to be the last thing he hears before falling asleep.

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