Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of this work of fiction, and no profit, monetary or otherwise, is being made through the writing of this.

A/N: written for Slytherin Cat for the Gift-Giving Extravaganza 2014; she requested something that had angst, and the pairing Sirius/Remus (just one of the suggestions she made).

Title/Link: Like Breathing for the First Time

Total Progress: 1/12 fics

Possible Squeamish Things: Mentions of past child abuse

Word Count (WITHOUT a/ns): 1535

Who It's For: Slytherin Cat

Characters/Pairings: Sirius/Remus, mentions of James Potter, and members of the Black family.

His parents had never approved of the fact that he liked wizards, over witches; that he wouldn't be adding an heir to the Black family, and that's exactly how Sirius liked it. Whatever he could do to be a thorn in his family's side, he would – embrace Muggle culture, get a motorcycle, date a poor boy from an unknown family...

They were a pain in his side, after all.

That he was in love with a shy, awkward wizard who never quite looked others in the eye, for fear that they'd notice that something was, 'off,' about him, made dating Remus Lupin even more exciting for Sirius.

A, 'forbidden love,' of sorts.

That Remus also wore shabby clothing because his parents were poor was an added bonus, and, it gave Sirius the opportunity to buy lavish gifts for his boyfriend. Remus wasn't too proud to accept them, though he did try to curb Sirius' spending habits, claiming that he didn't need half of what Sirius gifted him with.

Some, like Severus (Snivellus) Snape, thought he was a spoiled, stupid wizard who was only dating Remus to add to his popularity, and to create a stir, that he was only doing it to vex his parents. But, in reality, while Sirius enjoyed living on the edge, and thwarting his parents, he was also wholly in love with a werewolf.

What they didn't know, though, was that Remus was the only one who understood him, other than James Potter, and knew what it was really like behind closed doors in the vaunted Black home.

Abuse was nothing new in the wizarding world. It had been happening for centuries, with those in authority turning a blind eye and a deaf ear to what happened behind closed doors. It wasn't any of their business, after all. Every family had its problems. It wasn't appropriate to meddle in the affairs of others.

Black eyes, broken bones, bruises – all could be easily fixed with a potion, an ointment, or the flick of a wand, and a carefully uttered healing incantation. Sirius, and his younger brother, Regulus, were no exception. They'd grown up with a heavy-handed father, and a mother who did not suffer foolish, childish behavior well.

While Sirius did his best, often going out of his way, to bring out his parents' ire, and draw their attention away from his younger brother, Regulus did his best to try and fit in, to be the epitome of what his parents wanted. Except, it was never enough, and Regulus suffered for it.

Sirius pretended that it didn't matter, developed a thick skin, and hardened his heart toward everyone in his family, including his little brother, because it was too hard to witness the abuse and not be able to do anything to stop it.

So, he, like those around him, turned a deaf ear and a blind eye toward what his parents did to his brother, and tried to do things which would bring their wrath down upon himself instead. It was the only thing he could do to make things better, more bearable for himself, for his brother.

At first, dating Remus had been just that – a ploy to make his parents turn their 'discipline,' away from Regulus, and back toward him, the black sheep of the Black family. He'd flaunted the fact that he was dating a wizard from a poor family, and nursed his wounds – many of which were untended, and made invisible to the naked eye – privately, never dreaming that, one day, he'd actually fall in love with the poor wizard, and not because he was dangerous, and the love was forbidden, but because it was Remus – kind, gentle, and demanding of nothing.

Remus' family wasn't well-to-do, and they were largely unsupportive of their son, who had been bitten by a werewolf at a young age. They were prideful, hid their son's status from everyone that they could, and most of the time they pretended that he didn't even exist.

It was James Potter who'd brought them together, made them all fast friends, united against Slytherins, and injustices. James had a habit of taking those less fortunate than himself under his wing, making them feel worthwhile – he'd done that for Remus, Peter, and Sirius, though Sirius hadn't come from poverty.

James hadn't known abuse, or felt the sting of rejection or neglect. He was loved by his parents, respected by his peers, and, was, at times, full of himself. But, he had a good heart, and a bit of a hero complex, trying to help others, even when they didn't want his help.

Sirius hadn't wanted James' help, at first. Had seen the skinny eleven year old as a pompous, over-privileged know-it-all when they'd first met – at the feast after their sorting, James had a mouthful of mashed potatoes and gravy when he'd reached across the table and introduced himself to, first Sirius, then Remus, and then Peter.

How they'd become friends when Sirius couldn't stand James at first, wasn't much of a mystery, James had a big heart, and he accepted just about anyone, regardless of status, and he had a knack for bringing people together. He'd have made a great Hufflepuff. Remus would've as well.

Sirius was supposed to have done the Black name proud, and gone into the Slytherin House. That was just another mark that his family held against him. A Black shouldn't be a Gryffindor. Had no business putting in with that lot. He, however, was perfectly fine being counted as a Gryffindor – to be considered brave, and loyal, and a natural-born leader.

"A knut for your thoughts," Remus' voice is quiet, strained, and yet it breaks through Sirius' musings as though the gentle man had shouted.

Sirius blinks, and takes in the dim lighting of the Black family room. It's dusty, and the thick curtains house any number of critters – some magical, and others, not.

Still, the home is Sirius', and even though his parents are dead, he is still going against their edicts – letting Dumbledore use the place as headquarters for the Order; taking Remus into his parents' room, and fucking, right on their bed, hoping that they're rolling in their graves, almost wishing they were ghosts, so they could witness all of this (except for the fucking) firsthand.

His childhood home was so empty when his parents had been alive. There are no happy memories, and, if it wasn't for the man sitting next to him, on the divan, he'd be suffocating under the weight of the memories that he does have.

Sirius turns his head, and gives his good friend, his lover, a smile. Needing the contact, he reaches for Remus' hand, and squeezes it. He rubs his thumb across the knuckles, noting the slight tremble, and wanting, more than anything, to quell it.

Sirius lifts their hands, examining the thin scars that rake across Remus' pale skin, and kisses, savoring the taste, the smooth skin beneath his lips, and the way that his touch, though light as a feather, causes goose bumps to break out along Remus' arm. He traces the trail of tiny bumps with an index finger, and follows it up along Remus' arm, pushing up the sleeve of the robe that covers the wizard's skin as he goes, and following his index finger with his lips, kissing as he goes.

Remus sucks in a breath, and holds it, and Sirius pushes aside his memories in favor of this. In favor of Remus, here and now, and kissing.

Remus smiles in return, opens his mouth, deepens the kiss. Sirius loses himself in the myriad of sensations – the musky, animalistic scent of Remus, the bite of the remnants of fire whisky on Remus' tongue, and the way that Remus fists his hands in the fabric of Sirius' robes and pulls until their chests and hips are flush together. It's heady, and Sirius doesn't want it to end, doesn't want any of it to end – him and Remus – ever.

And, it's no longer about his parents. No longer about pissing them off, and bucking the family name. It's suddenly about him, and this man, who has, even when he was being an ass, loved him, and often in spite of himself.

He breaks off the kiss, suddenly, and opens his eyes, drinks in the sight of his lover – the disheveled hair, the swollen lips, and the flushed cheeks. For the first time, in maybe forever, Sirius really looks at Remus. Looks into the man's eyes, and it steals his breath away – the brown, flecked with green and gold – the absolute love reflected in Remus' eyes hits him like a sucker punch to the gut.

"I love you." The words fall from Sirius' lips, and Remus smiles, tugs him close, so that their noses touch.

"I know," Remus whispers. "Now, kiss me?"

Sirius chuckles, and shakes his head, but complies, bringing his lips down on Remus'. He kisses Remus like there's not a war going on, like he's not a fugitive wanted by the law, like there's no one else in the entire world, but the two of them, and it's kind of like breathing for the first time.

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