Push and Pull (Sirius Black X Reader)

Chapter 3

Being an animagus isn't easy. It's hard to keep the animal part of you locked away once you've released it.

Remus swears that I became more like my animagus after I finally learned to shift. He says I have the grace and the stealth of a cat, and he says my eyes have a calculating look to them like a cat's. Well, he hasn't really spoken of it recently, not since the last time I tried to help him during a full moon.

It was a hard day for both of us, but he's suffered more.

I think I might like to die in my cat form. I can imagine it now—curling up in the corner of the room, so small and soft and quiet, and just... letting go. Ceasing to exist.

I think it would be very peaceful.

I've sort of planned this for a while, I think. I mean, the thoughts have been here for a long time, of course. But it was once Remus found out that he got that job at Hogwarts that I realized I could really do it. I would just wait for him to go and then choose a day—probably an ordinary day, just some Tuesday—and I would pick a corner and shift into my cat form.

I bought antifreeze from a little muggle hardware store a little ways from the cottage. I read once that it has a sweet taste and you can mix it into anything and it tastes pretty normal. I figure I'd put it one of the mismatched bowls Rem keeps above the stove and maybe mix it with some milk, maybe even some ice cream, since I do like ice cream and it would be a nice way to go, and then, you know, if I was in my cat form, then it wouldn't really take all that much to do the trick.

It's just that I feel a little guilty about it. This isn't my home—Remus' cottage. I don't want him to find me here and start associating the place with any bad memories or anything. I don't know. I still haven't really decided.

I've had this feeling lately that Sirius is going to come for me, so I don't even think I'll have to do anything. He might just do it for me.

I think I understand. I would do the same if I were him. I let him sit in that prison for years. I mean, I tried once or twice to figure out how to get him out. I thought that maybe if I testified that he and I had been together that night... Well, it didn't really matter much in the end—not when all those people saw him kill Peter.

I went down to the ministry building where they have hearings. Of course, Sirius was already in Azkaban by then, but I thought... Well, I went there and there was a man behind a big desk. I told him that I was with Sirius Black the night of the murders.

He asked me if I had proof.

I didn't.

Well, then he asked me when I was with Sirius. When we first got together, what we did, when he left. I didn't know that either, so he chuckled and me and told me to get on my way. He said Sirius wasn't going to get away with what he did to those poor people, so I shouldn't bother groveling around and begging for his release. The man told me a pretty girl like myself didn't need to keep sniffing around for a murdering psychopath.

So, in Azkaban Sirius Black stayed.

Remus left for Hogwarts yesterday morning. He kissed me right on my hairline and he told me he loved me and then he apparated away. I don't really know where he went—he didn't tell me why he was apparating instead of flooing to the school, but I didn't feel much like asking him and making him stay longer just in case he thought it necessary to try and get me to go again.

He was pretty upset the day before yesterday too. He had found me sitting in the bathroom after my shower, wearing nothing but a towel and thinking about everything, and he asked me whether or not I finished when he made love to me. I don't like to lie, especially not to Rem, so I just shrugged my shoulders.

That kind of thing hurts a man, you know? They get all sullen and defeated about everything like it's their fault. I mean, sometimes I suppose it could be, but it's not with me and Rem. I'm just never in the mood for stuff like that, so I don't think he could get me to finish if he tried.

But he went on and on about communication and asked me what was wrong and why I didn't say anything and why I was so quiet, and he asked me again, "Is this about Sirius?"

I cringed at the name and buried my face in my hands, shrinking down as small as I could. I didn't understand why Remus cared whether or not I enjoyed myself. After all, he was initiating this for himself, right?

I don't know.

He asked me when the last time I finished was and I shrugged again. I don't know. I just don't. I don't think about it. I don't let him touch me so I can feel good. I just want him to be happy. I can't stand the idea of losing him too.

I couldn't tell him all that though. When I'm feeling like this, it takes effort to be in the same room as him.

"Not long ago, I don't think," I whispered to him, meeting those pretty green eyes. His eyebrows drew together and he ran a hand over the back of his neck, flexing his leanly muscled bicep at me. With my eyes, I traced the muscles of his arm down to his chest and his belly, and then down those little dips that disappeared into his briefs, the fine strip of hair right below his navel. "Don't be upset."

"I'm not upset with you," he said softly, taking a step toward me, his hands cupping my cheeks, thumbs brushing right below my eye sockets. "I'm upset at myself. You know that I love you?"

I nodded my head at him, meeting his eyes.

"And you know it's important to me that you enjoy when we're intimate?"

I didn't nod this time, just held his stare and swallowed. He sighed and his warm breath hit my lips as one of his hands traced down the side of my neck, his fingers brushing featherlight over my throat.

"Let me make it up to you," he whispered, leaning so his lips were pressed to my forehead, his nose buried in my hair. Those nimble fingers of his pulled my hair over my shoulder and danced down my spine, from the column of my neck down between my shoulders, and his light touch had me leaning into him, my face pressed into his sternum as I let out a stuttering breath against his pale skin. His touch and the feel of him against me set that spark alight in my belly.

For the first time in a long time, I wanted him. I said, "Okay."

He brought me into the bedroom and used his fingers until I came, and then he did the same once more before he shucked off his briefs and stretched me over him. I finished three times by the time he kissed my hairline and tucked me into his chest, my body still trembling with the aftereffects of his touch.

He told me, "That is how it should be."

I tried to nod but I fell asleep soon after, exhausted. It was nice to do that again. Nice to feel good again.

But still, even as his lips had traveled all over my body, they never once caressed that raised skin on my ribs, and never once did he touch the top of my right thigh where the slices of his claws still caught the light.