It was that
sort of familiarity which allowed Remus the freedom to play with Sirius the way
he could with no one else. Or, just as accurately, Sirius’ presence allowed him
to play in ways he could not otherwise. Which was important today as today
wasn’t a day for a hankie but a scarf.
“That’s
it,” Sirius whispered, his voice almost entirely breath. “Concentrate on the
breaths. Make them as slow and steady as you can.” Remus obeyed, closing his
eyes in order to listen to the breaths. In. Sirius’ knees were touching his as
they sat cross-legged on the floor. Out. Sirius’ hands were warm as they gently
gripped his own, keeping him from doing anything with them.
It was his
safety, that touch. More specifically, his left hand was the safety. So long as
he held Sirius’ hand, Sirius knew he was all right. The moment Sirius felt the
grip falter, he was prepared to jump to Remus’ aid.
In. Remus
listened to the sound of the breath sliding up his nasal passages and filling
his lungs. Out. Remus’ chest deflated as air sharply streamed between his
teeth.
Just as he
was feeling absorbed in the rhythm and the sound, he felt Sirius drop his right
hand and touch, instead, his cock. It was already hard but the touch was a
relief in and of itself. He could not help but notice how the strokes were in
time to his breathing, however. Each time he took a breath, he was rewarded
with a stroke to match. As he held his breath in, the sensations continued in
the form of Sirius’ hand gripping the base of his cock, keeping him from coming
even though he wasn’t quite to that point yet. When he let his breath out,
however, Sirius released his grip.
The pattern
was repeated over and over, and soon Remus could not distinguish Sirius’ hand
from all other sensations he felt. The way his body tingled, the way his head
felt light from so much air, the way every breath made his urge to come
increase and intensify.
After what
seemed like hours to Remus, Sirius leaned close, his breath warm upon Remus’
face. Remus took another breath in. “Hold it,” Sirius commanded. His hand left
Remus’ cock but, used to the pattern, Remus winced as though he were being held
back as usual. “And hold yourself.” Remus’ free hand moved sloppily but tightly
held onto his cock once he found it.
Sirius
reached up and cupped his cheek while kissing Remus’ eyelids gently. “Let it
out slowly now,” he said, and Remus did, releasing his cock at the same time.
This became
the new routine. Sirius dictating how long Remus was to hold his breath and to
wait between strokes. The amount of time became longer and longer, and Remus
began visibly struggling to hold his breath. But he did not wish to give up or
give in. Every second of it he longed to extend the wait, his hand upon his
cock, sensing and feeling without moving. It throbbed painfully, as painfully
as his heart was pounding and lungs were bursting.
Each breath
was pain- a burning in his throat and in his chest. It begged him to give up.
But each breath also brought pleasure. Not just in his cock but all over. The
pleasurable tingles and twinges that took him just one step closer to death.
For two old
friends- and lovers- who had strived and suffered so long for life and freedom
at an incredible expense, the idea of death was both terrifying and agreeable. Death
was a chance to rest finally, to rejoin those they had loved, to leave a world
neither truly ever really had a chance to join in the first place.
Of course,
it was not that either longed for death. They wouldn’t even go as far as to say
they looked on it fondly. They did not have a death wish. If they had, they
wouldn’t need to bother with safe touch during all this. They could have ended
it all with a few spells. It was simply that they understood death so much
better now. Having seen so much of it during the first war, now that they were
on the verge of a second war they felt much more ready to die for the cause if
need be.
Breath was
life. And to be in control of their own lives even for a moment was an
addictive and compelling sensation. So to walk so close to death was to embrace
it and take pleasure in even that aspect of life.
“Don’t let
it out,” said Sirius as Remus held his breath and leaned forward a little
against the urge to release his breath. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger
against the base of his cock and shuddered as it throbbed desperately for the
same release. But still Remus did not release his breath. Not until Sirius gave
him a gentle nod. Remus’ chest deflated and his hand relaxed though still
touching himself in a way that made him shudder happily.
Remus took
a sharp breath in and opened his eyes to mouth to Sirius that he was ready. Sirius
cupped his cheek again and kissed him tenderly. Then he reached down to the
scarf hanging loosely around Remus’ neck. It was a black cashmere scarf that
had belonged to one of Sirius’ parents or distant relatives but which they were
making good use of in this. Sirius tightened it around Remus’ neck and tied it
back around the bedpost.
Panicking, Remus’
eyes grew wide as he strained against it as it pressed against his throat and
neck. The fear of death gripped him, and for a moment he considered letting go
of Sirius’ hand. But the fear passed quickly as he again concentrated on his
breathing. His breaths were strong and harsh but he had to fight to barely get
them in and out. Sirius took over for Remus’ slow-moving hand, beating him off
hard and strong.
Remus closed
his eyes again, swaying with the urges though the tight scarf kept him from
moving much or even grunting with pleasure. His whole body felt light but full.
The sensations shooting through him at Sirius’ touch were multiplied by a
thousand.
His whole
body felt numb to everything but the pleasure. Overwhelming. Intense. Incredible.
Remus
smiled as he struggled to control his breaths, thinking of how nice it might be
to feel this as the last thing he ever felt. The sensations filled him so
completely that he wasn’t sure when or even if he came. He swayed and relaxed
to it all, knowing that one way or the other it would be good. He relinquished
all control and gave himself over to the fierce tingles.
But when he
opened his eyes he found there was no scarf around his neck and found himself
lying on the floor with his head in Sirius’ lap. “Did I faint?” Remus asked,
his voice unsurprisingly harsh.
Sirius
nodded. “Three seconds, maybe. Can you breathe all right now?”
Remus
concentrated on his breaths again to realize he could. He nodded.
“Good,”
soothed Sirius, stroking Remus’ head tenderly in a way that told Remus Sirius
was glad he hadn’t died. “I have some water for you but I want to be sure you’re
breathing normally first.”
Remus
nodded again and snuggled into Sirius a little more. He felt fantastically
satisfied and exhausted, and he looked down to see that what he had felt had
indeed been him coming.
“I can
clean you up a little as well,” Sirius said, still petting Remus. He whispered softly,
“You were beautiful, you know.”
For a third
time, Remus nodded. If it had looked even half as good as it had felt, Remus would
have called it beautiful. But it was slightly more-so now that it had a happy,
safe ending. Any ending where he was satisfied and snuggling up to Sirius had
to be good. He sighed deeply then shifted his concentration from the feeling
and sound of his breathing to the familiar hand petting him.