ficlet: mornings
two boys in bed together

Remus wakes to a hand curving over his hip, fingers warm through his worn pyjamas, thumb just barely brushing over his skin. The bed creaks carefully, lamenting like the ancient thing it is, and Remus slowly opens his eyes. Sirius' face is soft in sleep, too-close and streaked by daylight; he breathes deep and evenly, his mouth parted and his dark hair tumbling across his forehead.

Sunshine dapples the coverlet, cut into patterns by the tree outside the window. Remus runs a fingertip along the arch of Sirius' brow, traces into the slope of his cheek and follows the sharp line of his jaw. Sirius shifts, stretching and burrowing deeper into the pillow; he's quiet and still, tamed in a way that is impossible while he's awake. Remus smooths his thumb over Sirius' mouth, pausing at the soft swell of his lower lip, and Sirius sighs into it, eyelashes stirring, mumbling as his hand tightens on Remus' hip.

"Moony."

Not-quite kisses: Sirius' mouth is tired and clumsy and Remus finds him at an odd angle, his tongue grazing Sirius' chin and Sirius' teeth catching Remus' lip. Sirius laughs, a soft flutter of sound that puffs over Remus' skin, and Remus slips his hand around Sirius' neck, fingers curling in soft strands that are damp with sleep and sweat. Their legs are hopelessly tangled; Sirius presses closer, his legs inching between Remus', and the coverlet twists around Remus' ankle. The bed creaks again, pained and exhausted, and Remus rolls Sirius over, presses him into the pillows and kisses him properly, his tongue pushing into Sirius' mouth and his hands cradling Sirius jaw.

Sirius meets him with a slow roll of hips, liquid and warm, breathing into the kiss as his hands glide up Remus' sides. He makes a low noise, quiet and secret in the back of his throat, his cock hard against Remus' belly and his fingers tripping over Remus' skin. Remus presses down and closer, turning until their cocks can slide together, slow aching pressure, his mouth at Sirius' neck and his hands in Sirius' hair. He hides a kiss behind Sirius' ear, licks a wet path to the hollow of Sirius' throat. The sunlight twists, painting the bed in whites and golds, and Sirius arches up, his breath hitching and his hands curving over Remus' arse.

A slow shudder runs through Remus' body, spreading up from his toes as heat curls low in his belly, and Sirius murmurs his name, whispered and needy, gasping it out with a restless snap of his hips. His fingernails bite into Remus' skin, sharp stings up Remus' spine, and Remus lets himself be pulled under, lets Sirius pull him under, coming with Sirius' nipple hidden under his thumb and the sweep of Sirius' collarbone under his mouth. Sirius follows with a kiss and a half-swallowed moan, his body shaking and drawing taut, his hands warm on Remus' back.

The post owl pecks at the window, then drops the Prophet on the sill and flaps off with a screech. Sirius' eyes slide closed, his hand curling under his chin, and Remus flips the coverlet up over his shoulder.