No Control // Wolfstar

Seventeen

Click

A bright light flashes throughout the Room of Requirement in a split second before disappearing as quickly as it came. The square photo slowly prints out of the camera, and Sirius catches it before Remus can. He watches the blankness transform into himself drawing. Remus snatches the photo from his hand, smiling at the outcome.

"You look good," Remus says letting the photo fall to the floor.

"Sit still," Sirius instructs.

Remus rolls his eyes, leaning back against the arm of the couch. His legs are extended over Sirius' lap, a pad of parchment resting on top of them. Sirius' eyes flicker back and forth between Remus and the sketchbook; his hand moves automatically without hesitation.

"I don't like sitting still," Remus states stretching out his arms.

Sirius chuckles, shading in Remus' jawline. "I told you to bring a book."

"I didn't think it would take this long! I could have finished A Tale of Two Cities twice by now."

"You're being dramatic. And that's coming from me." He sets his charcoal stick down, leaning over the edge. He pops back up with a thick book between his fingers. "You're lucky I came prepared."

Remus grasps the book from his hold, reading the cover. "A Tale of Two Cities," he reads with a smirk, opening the book. "Not The Outsiders?"

"You can read that to me another time."

"Will this ruin the drawing?"

"The more you talk, the longer it will take."

Remus nods, keeping his lips sealed.

Sirius sketches the strands of Remus' hair falling in front of his eyes which dart side to side, hungrily consuming the words before him. There was something so elegant about the way Remus read that catches Sirius' eye. He was just a boy reading at glance. But the way he was captivated by the story in front of him could be seen through his eyes. It pained Sirius to think that Remus hated himself. That the boy reading in front of him was living vicariously through the story. He wanted Remus to see the beauty in himself that he could see. His hand etches the tiny scars on his forehead with great detail. Every mark is beautiful in his eyes.

Remus holds his finger between the pages to hold his place, his curiosity getting the better of him. "We don't have secrets, right?" he asks. Sirius doesn't reply right away. "I mean, at least I don't want us to. Can we make a promise to be honest?"

"No secrets?" Sirius questions.

"No secrets."

"Okay." Sirius runs his finger against the parchment, softening the stroke along Remus' eyebrow.

No secrets. A werewolf and the walking mystery that was Sirius Black.

The promise was broken from the start.

The high noon sun radiates over the castle, not a cloud in sight, giving the illusion of a warm Tuesday in June. But outside the numbing air was still, awaiting the next person to creep up behind and send a trembling chill up their body. The first snowfall is due any day now.

Half of Remus' face is enhanced by the light in the warmth of the encased room. His right eye reflects the light showcasing flecks of gold hidden within the innocent Bambi amber of his iris. The other remains in the shadows, somber. The excitement and joy are hooded in the darkness, unable to manifest their true potential. Long lashes extend with a curve, keeping a protective barrier from those who looked at him. A sheer pink tints his lips; they part naturally, speaking for themselves. The gleaming rays of the sun draws an obscure division over his face unveiling the two parts that make up Remus Lupin.

"I'm done," Sirius announces.

Remus sets the book aside with an excited grin. "Can I see?"

"No."

"No?"

Sirius drops the sketchpad, crawling over Remus until he's straddling him. "Maybe I'll let you see it soon."

Remus presses his hands against Sirius' chest. "I didn't sit here for an hour to not see the drawing."

"You're cute when you're feisty."

"I'm about to be real hot then."

Remus sits up abruptly, flipping over their positions. His legs rest between Sirius' while pinning his arms over his head. He holds Sirius' wrists with one hand, reaching down and picking up the sketchpad with the other. He scans the drawing over with an unreadable expression.

"Is that what I really look like?" he asks surprised.

Sirius nods. "Beautiful, aren't you?"

Remus shakes his head, setting the drawing down. Sirius lies sultry beneath him. With his arms still pinned over his head, Remus can see a vulnerability he'd never seen in Sirius before. He caresses Sirius' face gently, the faint stubble along his jaw scratching against the palm of his hand. Running his thumb along Sirius' bottom lip, he focuses on them longingly. They haven't kissed since that night in the broom cupboard.

Remus brings his lips down onto Sirius', brushing them gently over his. A heavy scent of spice and mint fill his nostrils when his nose presses against Sirius' cheek. Sirius slides his hands up Remus' sides until they rest around his neck. The ends of Remus' hair twist around Sirius' fingers as he holds his head firmly.

Sirius parts his mouth, granting access for Remus to explore his mouth. Remus does so, running his hands along Sirius' hair. The strands flow like water through his fingers. Remus' tongue presses against Sirius' teeth before pushing gently against his tongue. Their tongues dance together inside his mouth in a perfect waltz. Every stroke is on beat with one another.

Their kiss is steady and undemanding. Sensual.

So this is what's so great about kissing... Remus thinks.

He smiles uncontrollably into the kiss, pulling away slightly to see Sirius. The latter's lips are slightly swollen, throbbing between his teeth with the feeling of Remus' lips still remaining. A heavenly halo-esc light glows above Remus and Sirius can only gaze in astonishment at the beauty before him.

"What're you smiling about?" Sirius asks.

Remus folds his arms flat over Sirius' chest, resting his head down. "Nothing." An emptiness aches in his chest alongside the irregular beating pattern of his heart. "Just kiss me again."

Their lips melt against one another in a wet and passionate fashion. The feeling gives a Remus a breath of fresh air. Better than a fire in the dead of winter. Better than dipping into the pool on a hot summer day. The stars are perfectly aligned every time they touch. They're in their own world. Where everything is right.