Author: Mosh
Fandom: Harry Potter

Title: We Can
Pairing: Remus/Harry
Rating: NC-17
Summary: An encounter before Harry leaves.
Disclaimer: These boys belong to J.K Rowling. No money being made, no copyright or trademark infringement intended.
A/N: Written for Anise as a gift ficlet, set just before the war. There's a small warning for mild rimming, if that kind of thing bothers you. With thanks and love to Charm for the beta! This story features glorious fan art by Shanty, which is linked to within the fic itself. 1500 words.

Note: You may not archive, re-post, or alter any of my stories without my permission. Please contact me first. Thanks!

"Remus?"

"Hello, Harry."

"Can I... um, can we...?"

There had been many almost-times, when they had been standing close enough so their sleeves brushed, and they had leaned ever so slightly towards each other, as if for a kiss, but had stopped and flushed, turning away. It was a funny thing; there were so many reasons it was wrong, so many ways to talk themselves out of it. And they always did, only to have another almost-time later in the week, when it was dark and the house creaked and moaned dismally around them as if begging to be demolished.

This time, however, when Harry stepped into the living room, Remus let his book slide from his lap to the floor. He stood up, met Harry and pulled him close. "Yes," he said against the puffs of Harry's warm breath. "Yes, we can."

This time they could, and they did, because it might be their very last chance, and the very thought of that was too much for both of them.

* * * * * * * * * *

Harry was a man now. It had been strange to see him sitting up straight in the chair across from Dumbledore, arguing with the old wizard whereas before - years ago - he would have backed down and taken Dumbledore's words as final without question, let alone out right disagreement.

Remus had watched it unfolding, watched how Snape had joined in at one point and ganged up on Harry. Watched how pinkish-red spots had appeared at Harry's cheekbones as his voice grew to match Snape's, how his large hands had curled against the wood of the table, his eyes speaking as well, hard and green: I won't back down on this one.

He had won the argument.

Dumbledore had left with a silent, sad nod of his head, Snape flouncing into the fireplace behind him and barking "Hogwarts!" as the threw the Floo powder at his feet. The rest of the Order, who had wisely remained out of the discussion, had trickled out in varying degrees of hesitancy. None had spoken except to bid Harry and Remus goodnight. Even Ron and Hermione had been subdued. Hermione's eyes had been wet with tears, and eventually Ron had put a gentle hand on her arm and led her away. Remus had smiled at them all, one by one, while Harry had remained at the table, still and silent and pissed off.

Only then, when the only sound in the kitchen was from the flames popping logs in the fireplace and both their soft breathing, did Harry slump as if invisible strings that had been holding him up had been severed.

"I'll make coffee," Remus said, rising.

"It's all right. I'm not thirsty," said Harry to the other side of the room, his voice a long breath out as he spoke.

"I meant for me," Remus said. "That was quite a meeting. Harry, are you-?"

"Yeah, I'm sure I'm ready. Don't tell me I'm not - I am. I know everything I need to. I can't spend another year waiting."

"I mean," Remus said quietly. "Are you hungry?"

"Oh. No. Thanks."

Halfway through making a sandwich for himself, Remus heard Harry rise from the table and leave. And he hadn't been able to turn around and look at Harry, because tomorrow... tomorrow Harry was leaving Grimmauld Place to travel up country, where Voldemort was rumoured... oh bollocks to it all. Remus threw his uneaten sandwich in the bin and left his coffee on the sideboard, moving through to the living room to sit and immerse himself in reading. He tried not to think about anything in the silence of the house, but it was so difficult.

Half an hour passed before the second to last stair creaked out in the hallway.

"Remus?"

"Hello, Harry."

"Can I... um, can we...?"

"Yes... yes we can."

* * * * * * * * * *

They undressed slowly, savouring the slide of fabric over skin, eyes following as they revealed each other with hands, lips following their gazes, here, there, on Remus's scarred shoulder, Harry's soft white neck. Button after button, chests pressing together for a moment just to feel what it was like. And a kiss, not too deep - not just yet.

Over towards the sofa, clothes spilling onto the floor in a trail, they grew hungrier with every step. Remus couldn't stop touching Harry, couldn't drink enough of his nakedness in. He was still strong, even with his eyes sad, with his mouth drawn down slightly at the sides. A strong man, Harry Potter. What a wonderful man he had become.

"Do you want to... or shall I?"

"You can," Remus said, drawing Harry close for the type of kiss he had been wanting for years, ever since Harry had been a boy and had tentatively - cheeks a cinder red - asked Remus if liking men was wrong.

"All right," Harry breathed, and kissed him until Remus's lips were sore. Breathless, Harry let him go. "Lie down."

"Right here?"

"Can you make it upstairs? Because I don't think I can."

A smile pulled at Remus's mouth and he sank onto the sofa, taking Harry with him. The brush of a damp, hard cock low against his thigh and Harry's mouth sweeping his collarbone, his chest, and Remus couldn't stifle the urge to arch his back, to groan.

And though Harry's lips and hands worked over his body like wild fire, spreading out to find all the places Remus loved to be touched, it seemed like a lifetime had passed before: "Can you turn over for me?"

Dust flew out of the arm of the sofa like a small explosion cloud as Remus braced his arms against it, lowering his head to rest on them. He was so ready he ached, on his knees, Harry behind him. Harry pressed himself against Remus's back, burying his face in Remus's hair and taking one, two, three deep breaths before moving again.

Harry's tongue slipped down the back of Remus's neck, paving through the fine brown-and-grey hairs, down, down between his shoulder blades, a line of cooling moisture that Remus could almost imagine throwing off steam against his hot skin. Harry broke the line with strange kisses, little puffs of breath marking each one like a full stop at the end of an unspoken sentence. Raising his hips, Remus moaned into his crossed arms, floating and falling at the same time; he held onto the arm of the sofa desperately and rocked as if to make Harry go faster because it was too much to bear, this waiting.

Running his tongue all the way down Remus's arse to suck on his balls and then back up, Harry began slowly licking in circles that made Remus's limbs twitch and nerve endings sing. Harry hummed contentedly against him, then slid his tongue inside. Remus could only offer short little "Huh, ohh"s of need, but nevertheless they seemed to prompt Harry into curling one arm around Remus's sweaty hips to stroke his hard cock, tongue grinding in time to his hand until Remus cried out and spilled hotly over Harry's fingers.

Only then did Harry pull back, releasing Remus's shaft to slick himself with the come. "Are you ready?"

"Yes."

Harry touched him briefly on the hip, the springs in the old sofa creaking as he shifted his knees and rose up. "Are you sure?" But he didn't wait for a response this time, only pushed forwards and softly rocked his way inside Remus, smoothing his hands up and down Remus's sides, groans raining onto Remus's back. Connected, the solid length of Harry stretching him open, feeding the ache. Remus told Harry that everything would be okay, told him not to worry, told him to be careful, anything he could think of until words he could no longer understand were tumbling out of his mouth.

I know, I know, Harry countered, meeting every sound Remus made with delicate, deep thrusts, fucking him slowly like he had all the time in the world. Or at least like he didn't want the time he had to end too soon.

And as Harry came he told Remus things that Remus would remember forever, things that would haunt him in the days to come, make him hurt and hope and drown in a mixture of the two until there was an end. Until either the end or the beginning, the outcome unsure for Harry.

Remus prayed it would be the beginning, some day soon.

* * * * * * * * * *

As the sun rose watery in the winter sky outside, Harry sighed and slid his lips along Remus's stubbled jaw.

"That sounded like goodbye," Remus murmured, regretting it immediately.

Harry blinked against Remus's cheek, eyelashes fluttering like damp wings and Remus thought that if, by some small chance, the Butterfly Effect were true, a dark lord might have just fallen down dead somewhere in the world.

"No, not that," Harry said. "Just... see you soon."

~Fin~