Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10788459.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Character:
      Harry_Potter, Remus_Lupin
  Additional Tags:
      Explicit_Sexual_Content, Angst, Alternate_Universe, Slash, The_Quidditch
      Pitch:_The_Changing_Room, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, Hurt/Comfort,
      Second_War_with_Voldemort
  Collections:
      The_Quidditch_Pitch
  Stats:
      Published: 2007-12-17 Words: 2909
****** Tell Me It's Okay ******
by IamAGhost [archived by thequidditchpitch_archivist]
Summary
     Remus and Harry find a way to get rid of their nightmares...
Notes
     Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at
     The_Quidditch_Pitch, which went offline in 2015 when the hosting
     expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open
     Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began
     importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April
     2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted
     announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or
     know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on The
     Quidditch_Pitch_collection_profile.
     Author's notes: Total angst. Popped into my head a while ago and I've
     just been too lazy to upload. I kinda like it :P Thanks to
     Oldenuf2nobetter for ze beta!
Remus contemplated the bottle on the kitchen table. So many times in the last
few weeks he’d allowed himself to drink the memories away with bottles just
like the one on the table. His fingers itched to grab it and chug its contents.
His mouth watered in anticipation.
What’s one more night? He thought. Only once more….
Just as Remus took a step to the bottle, there was a muted thud from upstairs.
Remus snapped his head around and listened intently. A muffled profanity,
followed by uneven steps, as though someone was hobbling.
Remus sighed and looked at the bottle one more time. It laughed at him. He
could hear the vindictive jeers. The bottle was telling him to ignore the boy
upstairs, to take one drink. One, that’s all. Who would it hurt?
Remus took a deliberate step back.
The bottle stopped laughing.
Drink…You’ll feel better. There will be no more pain…
Remus turned and left the kitchen. The door behind him swung hard with the
force in which he had pushed it out of his way. He jogged up the stairs, his
mind still on the bottle in the table. He should have had a little, just a
little. He could always go back…
A sniffle from the drawing room met his ears. Remus moved toward the open
drawing room door silently, peering inside.
Harry was seated before the old tapestry of the Black family tree. He was
seated cross-legged and staring at the wall without moving. Remus sighed
inwardly.
Harry had been doing this every night since he had come to Grimmauld on his
sixteenth birthday, one week earlier. The Weasleys had offered to have Harry to
join them for the rest of the summer, but Harry wanted to stay at Grimmauld. It
was just him and Remus, who had been living there with Sirius for over a year.
After Sirius had fallen through the veil, Remus had been there alone. Order
members stopped by, sometimes staying the night, but mostly Remus was alone
with his bottles. Bottles of ale, firewhiskey, rum, scotch. The Black family
had an extensive alcohol collection.
He’d hidden his obsession with the bottles from Harry, who wouldn’t have
understood his desperate need to drink and drink and not feel anymore, not
remember anymore. Only alcohol saved him from his nightmares.
Harry shifted, moving closer to the tapestry.
Remus had argued with Harry for almost an hour before finally giving in,
allowing Harry to stay. It was his, Harry’s, house anyway. But he had been a
little leery of Harry at first.
However, Harry had basically stayed in his room except for meals and to come
into the drawing room every night and stare at the tapestry. Remus didn’t know
what he was doing, what he was waiting for. Perhaps a small part of Harry was
still hoping for Sirius to come back.
But that wouldn’t happen. Sirius was dead, and he was never coming back.
Remus needed that drink.
Just as he was turning to go back to the mocking bottle on the kitchen table,
Harry seemed to crumple to the floor. In a flash of pure terror, Remus launched
himself into the room and was at Harry’s side, gently touching his shoulder.
“Harry?” he whispered.
The boy began to sob. Remus had yet to see Harry cry since he joined Remus at
Grimmauld. He’d been distant, vague, and a little lost, but had never actually
cried. Remus closed his eyes and rubbed Harry’s shoulder, unsure of what do to.
Harry cried for only a little while before rolling onto his back and staring at
the ceiling. His eyes were red, but other than that he looked composed once
again.
“Why don’t you cry, Remus?” Harry asked.
“Maybe I do and you never see it,” Remus replied, rubbing Harry’s shoulder
lightly.
“No, that’s not it,” Harry said softly. “You don’t cry. You drink instead.”
“Excuse me?” Remus said in a warning tone, the hand on Harry’s shoulder going
still.
“I’m not blind,” Harry said indignantly. “I see the bottles disappearing and
I’m not drinking them, so obviously it’s you.”
“Harry, I don’t think it’s any of-”
“You’re hurting yourself.”
Remus laughed cruelly, something he never did. “I hurt myself every month,
Harry. Alcohol is the only thing that keeps me sane.”
“That’s not true,” Harry said sharply, sitting up and glaring at him. “You need
to stop drinking, mate. I’m not asking, I’m telling you. Those are my bottles
and unless you want to replace all of them, you will stop.”
Remus regarded Harry silently. The boy had no idea what he was asking, yet
Remus knew he was right. Remus knew alcohol was a poor excuse of handling his
depression, but it was the easiest.
“Remus…” Harry said awkwardly, suddenly looking nervous.
“I…IknowaboutyouandSirius.”
“What?” Remus asked, unsure about what he just heard. Whatever it was.
“I..I know about you and Sirius,” Harry said, closing his eyes and screwing up
his face as though waiting for a blow. When that didn’t happen, he squinted his
eyes open. “Remus?”
“What…How?” Remus rasped.
“Well it was kind of obvious,” Harry said apologetically. “The way you looked
at each other, the way you touched each other. How you guys would disappear for
a few hours and then reappear looking really pleased with yourselves.”
Remus laughed softly. It was true, he and Sirius had taken whatever time they
could to have at each other with unusual vigor.
“I’m sorry,” Remus whispered.
“Don’t be,” Harry said with a smile. “Just don’t drink anymore. Think of
another way to deal with your sadness.”
“What do you do?” Remus asked.
Harry leaned back into his hands and considered his response. “Sometimes I
read,” he said finally. “Sometimes I do homework, you know, just to keep my
mind off of it. When it doesn’t work anymore, I think about him. I think about
my parents. And I know it’s not, you know, manly or whatever, but sometimes
it’s easier to cry. It kind of exhausts you and makes the dreams easier, ya
know?”
“I don’t think I’ve cried since I was thirteen years old, so no, I don’t know,”
Remus replied blandly.
“Well,” Harry said. “Then it’s like wanking.”
“What?” Remus said in a choked voice. Harry blushed.
“You know,” he said embarrassedly. “When you’re, er, done and stuff you feel
kind of heavy. You sleep easier after.”
Remus remembered that. It had been a while since he’d wanked, he just hadn’t
wanted to since Sirius died, but he remembered the beautiful lethargy and
heavy-limbed feeling.
“I guess I’ll have to try it,” he said slowly.
“Try wanking?” Harry asked incredulously. “You mean you don’t…?”
“Well before Sirius died,” Remus said with a smirk. “I didn’t have to. And
after…It just didn’t feel right, you know?”
Harry nodded. “I do know,” he said. “But my body didn’t care. If I hadn’t…you
know…I wouldn’t have walked around with a permanent…yeah.”
Remus laughed, really laughed. Ah, to be a young teen when getting hard was as
easy as blinking, and saying ‘erection’ was completely mortifying.
“I think I’m going to go to bed,” Harry said suddenly, climbing to his feet. He
waved goodnight and left Remus alone with his thoughts, staring at the family
tapestry.
It was worth a shot. Sure, he was aching to go back to the kitchen and drink
the bottle on the table, but he could control it. He didn’t need to do it. He
could try wanking, he supposed. It wouldn’t hurt anything.
He got to his feet and left the drawing room, shutting the door behind him. He
jogged up to the next floor and opened the door to his room. Usually when he
and Sirius would sneak away, they’d go to Sirius’s room on the top floor.
People hardly ever went up there. It was easier for him to be in his own room,
where there weren’t any memories to plague him.
He shrugged off his shirt, pulled off his jeans, and eyed his limp dick. This
wasn’t going to work. He had absolutely no desire to wank. But he also wasn’t
going to cry. Not that he had anything against it, he just didn’t do it. It was
almost impossible.
He threw himself back onto the bed and contemplated the ceiling.
He tried to think of things that would turn him on, but his body wouldn’t
react. For a moment he wished he was Harry, who would get hard if someone said
‘broccoli.’
The doorknob turned suddenly and before Remus could cover himself, Harry walked
in.
“Remus, there’s something in my closet and I can’t-”
He went still and stared at the naked man on the bed in front of him. Neither
moved. Harry’s eyes wandered down his torso to his lap, where they widened.
“Er, yes Harry?” Remus prompted.
“I…there’s…closet. There’s something in my closet and since I’m not seventeen,
I can’t get rid of it.”
Harry determinedly looked away from him, and Remus sighed. Well he wasn’t in
the mood to wank anyway.
“I’ll be there in a moment,” Remus said tiredly.
“If you’re…I’ll just go and you can…”
“I’m not really in the mood anyway, Harry,” Remus said. “It’s alright.”
Harry looked into his eyes curiously, probably wondering how anyone could not
be on the mood to wank off. Remus pushed himself off the bed and Harry, instead
of running away with a red face, scratched behind one ear.
“You know, I could help you out,” he said without a hint of embarrassment.
Remus almost stumbled to the floor while standing up.
“What?” he rasped, staring at Harry in shock. Harry shrugged.
“I help Ron out all the time,” he said. “And he helps me. It’s loads better
than doing it yourself and I just thought…you know. If you didn’t want to do it
yourself, I could do it for you.”
Remus didn’t move. There was no way in hell he was going to let Harry touch
him. It wouldn’t be right! Wait…Ron?
“Ron?” he asked. Harry nodded. “When?”
“Last year,” Harry said. “I was having a nightmare and he woke me up. It was
here actually. It was him who told me that wanking was the best bet for a good-
night’s sleep. He has nightmares too, though his are different from mine. He
said that if he wanked before bed he didn’t dream as much. We ended up wanking
together and he just…leaned over and did it for me. So I did the same.”
The visual of the two boys together in bed was enough to have his cock take
interest. The complete wrongness of the situation didn’t seem to matter to his
body. Harry noticed, and instead of turning red, he approached Remus next to
the bed.
“Harry, I don’t think-”
“It’s fine,” Harry said with a grin. “It’ll help you sleep. I want to.”
Remus’s protests died in his throat at Harry touched him. His fingertips
ghosted along his hipbone and Remus closed his eyes. He really didn’t want
this, but at the same time, he did. When Harry’s hand finally reached his cock
a noise of pure need escaped his mouth.
“Lemme take care of you,” Harry whispered. Hating himself, Remus nodded. There
was a shuffling sound in front of him and he opened his eyes to see Harry on
his knees.
“Harry, no-”
But Harry gave him a wicked grin and took him into his mouth. Remus’s brain
shut off at the first touch of wet heat around his cock. Harry seemed to know
what he was doing as he bobbed his head and sucked, taking Remus to the hilt.
“Oh God,” Remus gasped.
Harry was relentless, licking at the head while pumping the rest with his fist.
Where did he learn to do that? When Remus began to mindlessly rock his hips,
Harry dropped his hand and allowed Remus to thrust into his mouth. Remus
watched his cock disappear over and over again into that wonderful mouth and
when Harry looked back up at him with wide, sinful eyes, Remus almost came. But
he was not one to just take and not give anything back. It did not escape his
notice that Harry was rubbing the front of his jeans.
He stepped back and Harry gave him a confused, hurt glance. Without a word,
Remus reached down and pulled Harry to his feet. He cut off what Harry was
about to say by swooping down and planting his lips on that devastating mouth.
Harry went still in shock and when Remus reached for the buttons on his jeans,
Harry stepped back.
“No, you don’t have to,” he said with a shake of his head.
“But I want to,” Remus replied. “It only seems fair, don’t you think?”
Harry seemed at a loss for words and when Remus reached for his trousers again,
he didn’t move back. Remus pulled them open and down roughly, wanting them
gone. Harry lifted his shirt off, revealing his toned torso and Remus growled.
He was beautiful.
Remus dropped to his knees and pressed his mouth to Harry’s stomach. He moved
his mouth over that wonderful hard surface, tracing the muscles with his
tongue. Harry let out whimpers and gasps above him and the already impressive
bulge in his pants grew.
Remus slid his tongue above the waistband of Harry’s Y-fronts and Harry slid
his hands into Remus’s hair. He pulled the pants down and gazed at Harry’s
cock, truly impressed. He kissed the tip. Harry twitched. He licked the head.
Harry groaned.
It was Remus’s turn to show off his oral skills and he knew that he could turn
any man into a puddle. As he sucked the tip, he worked one hand over the shaft
and used his other hand to caress Harry’s balls. Harry shuddered and tugged
Remus’s head back.
“No, I’m gonna…”
Remus stood up, gazing down at Harry and smiling. Harry leaned up and pressed
his lips once more to Remus’s. He wrapped his arms around Remus’s torso and
pressed their cocks together. Remus captured Harry’s groan on his tongue and
pulled him closer.
Somehow they ended up with Harry against the wall, with Remus grinding his hips
against the smaller boy.
“Wow, that’s…” Harry mumbled against Remus’s lips.
“Yeah,” Remus gasped. “I know.”
Their erections slid against each other slickly. There was not nearly enough
friction. Remus reached down and grabbed both their cocks and pulled none too
gently. Harry keened into his mouth and grabbed his shoulders.
Harry thrust into his hand, adding more delicious friction. The abandon on his
beautiful face pulled at Remus’s heart. He’d never seen Harry look so
uncontrolled. His eyes were clenched shut and a hoarse scream was ripped from
his throat as he threw his head back and shuddered. Warm release erupted over
Remus’s stomach and hand.
Remus slid his available hand behind Harry’s back to support him as his knees
collapsed. Harry’s eyes opened and he grinned at Remus.
“Brilliant, mate,” he said. His hand wrapped around Remus’s wrist and pulled
his hand away. “Now you.”
Remus looked into those emerald eyes and sighed as Harry’s warm hand wrapped
around him. Harry took his time, teasing Remus to the point of incoherency.
Remus was sure he begged for the boy to go faster, to please let him come.
Harry smiled but didn’t speed up. His touch became lighter, caressing softly
all over Remus’s cock. His lips ghosted over Remus’s, a soft breath over his
face.
“Please,” Remus whispered. “Please stop teasing me.”
Harry sealed his mouth over Remus’s and complied. His touch went from soft
caresses to insistent stroking. Remus couldn’t hold back from rocking his hips
into that tight, warm fist. Harry’s thumb repeatedly brushed the head, turning
Remus into a shaking, panting, cursing mess.
“Let it go,” Harry whispered into his ear. “Let it all go.”
With those soft, sweet words, Remus did as he was told. He let go. His body
shuddered, sending hot convulsions through his abdomen and ice down his spine.
Light exploded before his eyes and he shot over Harry’s hand and flat stomach.
As his shudders eased, his eyes suddenly felt too hot. His throat got a strange
tickling feeling at the very back.
He pushed himself back from Harry, shocked that he felt tears filling his eyes.
He didn’t want to cry in front of him. But Harry wouldn’t let him push away.
His pale hands slid around Remus’s middle and pulled him back.
“Remus,” Harry said. “Let it go.”
Remus couldn’t hold it back after that. Harry held him as the tears fell,
sliding down Harry’s alabaster chest. He didn’t sob or gasp. He just let the
tension ease from his body as he cried into Harry’s neck. Harry’s warm,
slightly sticky hands rubbed his back as he tried to relax.
Soon it was over. He’d cried for the first time since he was a teenager, and
the world didn’t end. Harry continued to hold onto him, even though the room
was cold around them. They ended up in Remus’s bed together, and Harry still
held onto him.
“Tell me it’s okay,” Harry whispered.
“It’s okay, Harry,” Remus replied, feeling lethargy wash over him. Harry curled
into him and fell asleep immediately, and Remus wasn’t too far behind.
Neither had nightmares that night.
 
 
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