Warnings: Boy-snogging, unrequited love, some awful run-ons, and second-person narration (don't be frightened!)
A/N: Song lyrics from Maroon 5's song "Can't Stop". I began this with intentions of some serious fluff, but... well, you'll see.
All alone in my room, think of you
at a rate that is truly alarming
I keep looping my memories of you in my head
I pretend that you want me
It has been a bleak Sunday, cold but not snowy and relentlessly boring. There is some sort of exam tomorrow -- you can't be bothered to remember which -- that Remus is busy studying for in the common room, even though it is past midnight and the rest of the Marauders are asleep. You debate going downstairs to drag Moony away from his textbooks, but ultimately decide that it probably wouldn't be the best idea. These days, you try to be normal around Remus, you really do, but somehow it doesn't always happen. It has gotten to the point where avoidance is the only successful tactic. You recall yesterday's dinner, where Moony's slow ice cream consumption sent your head reeling. You didn't eat that night, you remember, opting instead for a long, warm shower.
But what if you did go downstairs? What if you leapt out of your bed right now, catapulted down the spiral stair, and planted your lips on Moony's? How would he react, and how would you react, and would you face it together?
You wish you could kiss him, but even more than that, you wish he would kiss you back.
I just wrestle with you in my dreams
and wake up making love to a pillow
And I fall asleep and dream of alternate realities...
And I can't stop thinking about you...
When your eyes finally fall shut, the face that drifts in front of your unseeing eyes does not surprise you in the slightest; it is the face that has been a recurrence in your dreams for weeks, now, and is sure to be for weeks to come. You fall asleep relatively quickly -- and then it begins.
Your dream-self is wandering the halls of Hogwarts, your footfalls the only sound in the corridor this late at night. Shadows, black like midnight, linger at the junctions of the stone walls -- it's beautiful, you reflect. But more beautiful still is what steps out of the shadows, a god tall and lean and sandy-haired.
Your hands touch first, fingers thick and lean respectively intertwining in an elegant embrace. Your lips are next, meeting in the briefest kiss, because here, you have eternity at your disposal.
The kisses grow longer and more heated as his mouth parts in gentle submission to yours. His hands are in your hair, rubbing tiny circles into your temples, as yours roam down his sides. He pulls away, and you take a shaky breath to protest, only you don't need to because now he is licking your neck, and you just love that wonderful roughness of his tongue against the tender skin under jour jaw, and how did he ever learn how to do that?
You are achingly hard by now, which does not go unnoticed -- he pauses long enough to flash you a wicked grin, and aligns his hips against your hips and </i>thrusts</i>, and you see stars. Then he does it again, and you have to wonder, what the fuck is heaven if this is life?
There is no longer a thing as you or him, only the taste of your skin on his lips and his fingers trailing down the trail of fine hairs that disappear into your waistline, which is nearly enough to finish you, and ohgods you can't take it, all you need is a touch, a touch, and then your belt is undone and his hand, his hand --
-- and you come all over your pillow, with the name 'Remus' on your lips.
What I would give to have you look in my direction
and I'd give my life to somehow attract your attention...
I can't stop thinking about you
and I can't stop thinking about you