Cinnamon

by S_Star

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Pairing: Remus/Sirius, always, no matter what happens.

Rating: NC-17

Summary: 'Remus remembers everything about Sirius.' Some feelings run too deep to erase, no matter how many twisted ways you try to block them out.

AN: Hah, take that, writer's block! ^_^ First voluntary fic in months, so I apologise in advance for its rustiness and lack of proper anything. It’s Remus/Sirius (the One True OTP) in honour of PoA, the movie that abuses canon but has some nice slashy moments. As for this fic...well, it's odd and possibly clichéd in its major – only – scene, but at least it's a fic... ^_~

Oh, and canine/lupine, different classifications, I know, just ignore that if you're one of the picky people... ^_^


Cinnamon
by S_Star

It's been awhile
But I can still remember just the way you taste...
~ Staind, 'It's Been Awhile'


Remus remembers everything about Sirius.

He remembers the day they first met, when Sirius cheerfully dropped down on the bed next to his and asked, 'Whatcha reading?'

He remembers Sirius's Glitter phase and can still name all thirty-four shades of eyeliner he kept in the top drawer of his bedside cabinet.

He remembers waking up torn and shivering on the floor of the Shack and having rough hands pull a blanket over his bare shoulders, and he remembers those same hands reaching for him for the very first time on a still, moonless night in December.

But most of all, he remembers the way Sirius tasted; cinnamon and crisp night air; damp spring earth and chocolate; not entirely tangible but present everywhere he licked.

Even as he kneels here now, thinking this will give him some twisted sort of closure, he's cataloguing the differences.

Sirius's body was a marvel to him; hard and powerful, muscles rippling with strength barely contained by the thin layer of silky skin and energy bursting from every pore. This body's nothing like that, and Remus digs his nails into the soft thighs as he tries not to sob at the smell of coconut moisturiser, which Sirius would never have used in a million years.

He refuses to stop now, though, because if he doesn't do this he'll never stop being haunted by memories, so after one last look at the reassuring face above him he takes the cock into his mouth.

He winces immediately and tries not to gag. Instead of endless nights in the Forbidden Forest, he can only taste salt. And where's the cinnamon that was such an integral part of Sirius, sweet and comforting with a warm, spicy edge, the essence of the man himself somehow condensed into one concept.

Knowing that he's far too aware of everything, Remus determinedly decides to finish this, swirling his tongue around the head and anticipating the gasp and tug on his hair that tell him Sirius is going to come, but instead there's just a mutter of 'Fuck', which angers him even more than the cock being a centimetre too long or the missing scar on the inner left thigh.

He remembers sitting on his bed one evening when James walked in, stubbed his toe, and let out a string of profanities. Sirius looked up and said, 'Don't say fuck.' James asked why and he replied, 'It's..it's overused and common. I prefer 'bugger', don't you, Moony?' Sirius winked, Remus blushed, James laughed and Peter choked.

The aching in his chest that he remembers from the twelve years of Sirius's incarceration is ignored as his mouth and throat are filled with bitter cum, and Remus's world crashes down around him.

He has no choice now but to swallow the rest, suppressing a gag reflex that he's never felt so strongly before as tears run down his face. As soon as he can, he falls back, resting on his heels with one hand over his mouth.

He looks up at the panting face above, so familiar and beautiful; the post-coital expression exactly as he remembers, and he wants to kill.

The wolf has always been responsible for his base instincts, which is, of course, why he fell for Sirius in the first place: man, woman, that wasn't the point. As a wolf, he could only ever want a fellow canine.

And now the all-consuming rage at this...this thing pretending to be his mate...he didn't know or care that it was all at his request; he just wants to bite and scratch and tear at the one who dares imitate Sirius so poorly.

'I'm sorry,' he hears whispered in the same husky tones he remembers from all those nights last summer when they laughed into their pillows and murmured under Silencing charms just in case the children heard them.

The handsome features morph back into this week's face – grey eyes and a pointed nose under a mane of navy blue curls, which looks awful – and Tonks gives a crooked, sympathetic smile.

'Anything I can do?'

'Get out,' Remus snarls, and she runs into the living room instantly, afraid of the feral gleam in his eyes.

The room still stinks of her to his keen nose, and the acrid taste of her pity still burns his throat.

The wolf wants his mate to come and drown him in the cinnamon that was always strong enough to wash everything away, but Remus knows that will never happen. Sirius is gone forever, and all there is left now is a set of unwashed bed-sheets bearing his scent and a jar of Honeydukes chocolate-covered cinammon sticks that no one else is allowed to touch.

And, of course, there are all of Remus's memories, made even stronger by whatever insanity possessed him to seek this stupid closure.

He remembers returning to the dorm one night to see his friends all sitting on his bed, and Sirius holding up a copy of 'So Your Best Friend's A Werewolf'.

'We've been doing some reading...' he began slowly, and all Remus can recall now is the intense look in his friend’s eyes;
seriousness with characteristic amusement glinting in the back as his own emotions went from fear to panic to confusion to something else entirely. He remembers his breathing hitching as Sirius placed a hand on his shoulder and met his gaze with a small smile.

'What, you think we'd desert you? Even if we wanted to, it wouldn't work. I mean, we're gonna have to share a dorm for another five years, right?'

Remus remembers feeling something like love at that moment at the tender age of twelve; the true happiness he focuses on for every Patronus, and tears fall down his cheeks once more.

Try as he might, he cannot erase any of the details from his mind: Remus remembers everything about Sirius, because he cannot forget.


~fin~