Push and Pull (Sirius Black X Reader)

1981: The Storm

I shiver as I enter the apartment, peeling my coat off of my skin and hanging it on the coat rack, frowning as raindrops puddle below it. I kick off my shoes and wander deeper into the apartment, looking around. It smells good, like spices and fresh bread, but Sirius is nowhere to be found.

"Sirius?" I call, inspecting the kitchen. Sure enough, there's a loaf of bread in the oven and something simmering on the stove. I open the oven, and water sizzles on the door as it drops from my hair. I wrinkle my nose against the blistering heat and pull the bread out, setting it on the stove.

"Hey, I was just changing my shirt. Made a real mess with the flour. Sorry about that," Sirius says as he rounds the corner, sliding one arm around my waist as he pokes at the bread with his other hand. "You're all wet."

"It's terrible out there," I tell him. "I need to change out of these clothes and dry off. What are you making?"

"Soup," he says, kissing the corner of my mouth, "because I figured you would be cold when you got in."

"You were right," I say, giggling when he buries his face in my neck, licking up water droplets from my skin. He makes a playful groaning sound as he does it, backing me against the kitchen counter, his arms caging me in, his kisses noisy. I stumble backward, gripping his shoulders, soaking his new shirt through, my grin so wide my cheeks ache. He finally pulls away and kisses me hard on the mouth, his hands on my cheeks.

"Go and get changed," he says. "I'll finish up dinner."

I lean up and leave a peck on his chin before I do so. I dry my hair with a towel and change into some warm pajamas in the bedroom, listening as Sirius rattles around in the kitchen. My heart flutters. I slip on a thick pair of socks to ward off the chill. 

After all, it is Halloween. Nearly winter.

I return to the kitchen with a fresh shirt for Sirius, seeing as I've soaked his through. He takes it and changes right in the middle of the kitchen. He's already filled two bowls full of soup for us. I slide onto one of the stools at the kitchen island and watch as he cuts into the bread, carrying two thick slices to our seats. He drops a kiss on the top of my head when he passes me, and then he takes his seat beside me. I thank him and try the soup, humming in content. 

"Good?" he asks.

"Perfect."

He grins and digs into his food. We chat about work and his ongoing battle with yeast. (I don't mention that his bread is flat and dense.)

After we're done, I wash the dishes as he puts away the leftovers, and then we cuddle up on the couch. I read my book as he reads absently over my shoulder, eyes scanning over the page but not quite absorbing them, listening to quiet music on the stereo and playing with my hair. Lightning illuminates the room through our thin curtains, and thunder follows soon after. I jump at the sound, and he holds me closer in response. 

I whisper an apology, and he simply presses a kiss on my shoulder. I cuddle closer to him, eyes widening when the lights dim, flickering rapidly. He says, "Think it's going to go?" Seconds later, we're bathed in darkness and the stereo goes silent.

"Well," he says, "no more reading." 

"Hey!" I protest with a giggle as my book is lifted from my hands.

"What?" he asks, and I hear the book hit the end table. "You can't read in the dark."

"I can get my wand."

"You can't navigate in the dark," he whispers playfully, tugging me back down when I stand. I fall into his lap clumsily with a little shriek. "It's dangerous," he says, holding me close. 

I can't make out any of his features in the dark, so I slide my hands up his neck and over his chin, pressing my fingertips against his lips. I can feel him smile, and he nips at my fingertips, teeth grazing softly. I lean in and press a kiss to his lips. He kisses me back, his grip loosening. I can feel him relax beneath me as he settles further into the couch. His hands start to wander, warming my body, and then he trails his kisses down to my neck, his lips and tongue caressing my skin gently. 

I get impatient quicker than he does and slide my hands down his chest, savoring the warmth of his body that seeps through his thin t-shirt. When I find the hem, I slide my hands up his shirt and trace the warm contours of his skin, lips parting when his hips shift beneath mine, pressing into the pulse between my legs. I pull his shirt off of him, still barely able to see him but content enough to just feel the silky slide of his skin against mine. He makes quick work of my pants and my underwear, and I hear them hit the ground beside the couch.

"I love you so much, Sunshine," he whispers and presses a kiss on my chin as I tug his pants down enough to free his bulge from his pants. 

"I love you, Starboy," I whisper back as I slowly lower myself onto him, biting down on my bottom lip at the feeling. He lets out a deep breath and pulls my shirt off, hands caressing my skin, and I place my hands on his chest for stability, rocking my hips against his. Part of me wishes I could see his face, his pretty grey eyes and his soft lips, the way his cheeks flush and his eyebrows draw together when he sighs in pleasure. But another part of me enjoys having to rely on my other senses to know how he's feeling, like the deepening of his breaths, the shifting of his hips below mine, and the tightening of his fingers on my hips.

His hands close around my wrists and he leads them to rest on the arm of the couch, and then he presses his hand into the arch of my back until his lips can touch my chest, and then he licks and kisses over my skin between pants. 

It doesn't take long for me to finish, between the sounds he's making, the path of his lips, and the feel of him inside of me, and then I'm shaking over top of him, trying my best to keep grinding through my orgasm until he tenses and releases with a groan. I still, my thighs shaking and my breathing quick. He holds me close while we recover, his lips pressed to my temple.

"Come on," he whispers once I've stopped trembling, "let's get you into bed."

We make our way through the apartment in the dark and clean ourselves up before slipping into bed. He lights a candle beside the bed, then wraps his arms around me, and presses a kiss on the back of my neck before I fall asleep, comfortable and content.

***

When I wake up, it's dark, and I can barely see Sirius by the flickering light of our candle, nearly burnt down to nothing. He is pulling on his boots, clearly in a rush.

"Sirius?" I whisper, sitting up in bed. "What's going on?"

"Something's not right. I haven't heard from James or Lily tonight. They were supposed to send word. I have to go and check on them, just to make sure everything is all right." I try to blink away my tiredness.

"Wait," I say.

"It's not going to take long. I'm going to ride over there and check. That's all," he says.

"Wait, Sirius," I say and catch his bicep in my hand, clutching the sheets to my chest with my other hand, "please don't go. Wait until morning, please. It's not safe, not with the storm. I'll go with you then."

"I have to go now and make sure they're okay," he says, standing. My hand falls from his arm. 

"Then wait for me to get dressed. I'll come," I say and try to wake myself up better, feeling around for my wand.

"No, you stay here. I don't want you out in the storm," he says. "I'm just going to check in on them and then I'll be back." He leans down and presses a long kiss on my lips, and my heart skips in dread.

"Please don't go, Sirius," I beg him. He presses his forehead against mine. "Please."

"I'll be back. Promise," he says, pressing one last kiss on my forehead. "I love you, Sunshine."

He leaves me, and I can hear from our room as his motorcycle roars to life. I sit on the bed and listen as he takes off, my heart pounding. Wind whips outside as thunder booms. I'm shaking although I know he'll be fine. The first tear drops from my eye as the candle burns out, drowning me in darkness.

Sirius never returns. 

Everything changes.