Foolish Games

Songfic to 'Foolish Games' by Jewel.

"Foolish Games" Copyright 1994-1996, Wiggly Tooth.

All rights reserved.

Harry Potter characters are property of J.K.Rowling, Warner Bro.s, etc.

Copyright: who knows when!

I own only the plot and it is based off a song, as stated above.

Slashfic. Male/Male sex implied.

Rated: PG-13

I tried for angst. With my non-existent writing talent I don't think I pulled it off though.

*sigh*

Always next year.

*sniffle*

I'M ONLY FOURTEEN FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!

*sobs*

^.^

I felt like doing a romantic/angsty Christmas fic. So nyah! ^.^

And I love this song.

Remus/???

But you will most likely guess very easily and very shortly down.

Remus stood by the dark window; glass fogged over from the chilly air outside, making it hard to make out any distinct shapes outside. Remus sighed deeply as he lowered himself into his favorite, yet ragged, armchair. It was by no means uncomfortable and the fabric was soft to the touch after constant use. Propping up his weary feet, he relaxed and brought his hot mug of tea to his lips. It was a calming Chamomile... that had been the only tea he could ever stand.

He sighed, looking up at his mantle clock and noticed that it was half past midnight. It was finally Christmas day. Remus' least favorite day of the year. There were too many memories. And most were horrible memories at that. Especially the ones where... he was concerned. It was this day, exactly seventeen years since that awful night. And then there was that cruel reminder of what he could not have, only three short Christmases ago. Thankfully that time, he had to stay in his quarters all of Christmas. It was a full moon that night.

You took your coat off,

And stood in the rain.

You were always crazy like that.

He had always been so breathtakingly mysterious, somehow different from everyone else, yet still being able to blend in. When Remus asked him what his favorite season was, the answer ended up being 'summer', but only because it rained most often then.

He always loved the rain.

I watched from my window,

Always felt like I was outside,

Looking in on you.

Remus never did quite get him. There was this... aura about him that just compelled Remus to sit back and observe his every moment. Instead of comforting the lycanthrope... it only made him feel more of an outsider. It was as if he were looking through one of those mirrors, where only one person could look upon the other, as if looking through plain glass. Remus could watch and observe him... but could never reach the man. Not in the way he truly wanted to. And he couldn't see Remus. There was always that damned mirror in the way.

You were always the mysterious one,

With dark eyes and careless hair; you were-

Fashionably sensitive, but too cool to care.

Not many people could see through the exterior, into his heart. Not even Remus himself, no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much Remus ached for that knowledge; that wondrous feeling and sense of security that only a true love can create. There was always a dull ache in Remus' chest. he had every bit of his lover, body, soul, and heart, while Remus held nothing of that magnitude for his love. He was always calm and aloof, no matter where he went, no matter what company he held.

And it always looked as though he truly cared about Remus. It really did. Yet it was merely a cruel faced played on for his cruel amusement.

Then you stood in my doorway,

With nothing to say,

Except some comment on the weather.

When he had first tried coming onto Remus, he had been so confident that he'd say yes. And his expectations were justified. Remus had been staring after him at school for the past few weeks like a lost puppy. But Remus supposed that maybe he didn't realize just how in love Remus was with him; how completely taken he was with that black haired boy. But by then he was no longer a boy. He was a man... and he couldn't wait for Remus.

Maybe he actually tried. Perhaps there had been another reason why- no. It was simple. He never loved Remus.

It had to be that simple. Or else Remus most likely would still be with him. No matter what had happened, as long as he had loved Remus back.

Well in case you failed to notice,

In case you failed to see,

This is my heart, bleeding before you,

This is me down on my knees.

Remus pushed his mug back to take another soothing sip of tea and found the cup empty. He had drained it already.... Standing up slowly, Remus set down the cup on the kitchen counter, and preceded to lock his apartment door and put out his lights.

Slipping in-between the sheets, Remus almost cried. Oh the irony. These were... hose sheets were the very last sheets he slept in, the last time he spent the night with Remus. He could almost feel the ghost of a kiss lingering on his cold, dry, and chapped lips and Remus pressed two fingers to his lips in remembrance. Pressing his head against the thin pillow, he squeezed his eyes shut at the painful memory. And the worst part... was that Remus would do anything to be able to have that night again, even if for only one night. But that was impossible now.

These foolish games are tearing me apart,

And your thoughtless words are breaking my heart.

Breaking my... heart.

Looking back, Remus can't tell why he never realized that he was using him beforehand. Remus' heart was ripped open and strewn aside and Remus he didn't want... no he couldn't want to fall in love again.

Again? That's a cruel joke. How is it possible to fall in love again, when you've never fallen out of love? Why did everything have to be so hard? So painful? Every memory, every last shred of him that was left caused such sorrow for Remus, but if he were to loose these last shreds of his lover... well then Remus would most likely move on.

But that notion was more frightening than Remus would prefer to admit.

You were always brilliant in the morning.

Smoking your cigarettes, talking over coffee.

Your philosophies on art, Boroque moved you.

You loved Mozart.

In the morning after a particularly long love-making session he would insist on coffee rather than Remus' usual tea. Remus never did grow accustomed to the strong beverage... but he loved those mornings. He could go on for hours about Bach and Mozart and homophonies in the music that was written and played; back, long ago. He would light cigarette after cigarette, always puffing on one in the morning, only removing the toxic stick from his mouth to take a sip of coffee or stop to talk for a few minutes on end.

Remus loved hearing his voice; personally feeling that his lover didn't speak enough. That was one of the things the young man had first noticed about him. that deep sultry voice. The voice that sounded as if it could entrance even the most beautiful of veelas into a stupor.

And you'd speak of your loved ones,

As I clumsily strummed my guitar.

Remus would practice on the guitar that he received for his birthday from him on the frigid, mid-winter afternoons, meanwhile that smooth voice would talk about his sister and how she was doing and what was going on where and all about his colleagues at work. He never let Remus cuddle with him though- unless they had just finished having sex... and then he would give in to Remus' whims. The sandy-brown haired man couldn't seem to get enough time with his 'other half'.

Remus clutched at his chocolate brown comforters and pulled them away from himself angrily, sitting up in bed. He had to stop dragging up these memories. He made himself miserable every Christmastime until he was near sick with grief. In the morning he would be spending Christmas with his Harry and Sirius. His family.

The only people still alive who never abandoned him for what he was and loved him unconditionally. Yes... They were his family, in almost every aspect of the word.

Excuse me, 'cause I've mistaken you for someone else.

Someone who gave a damn!

Somebody more like myself.

Those last word that he had hissed at him, dismissing him like the animal he chose to see Remus as.

"What would I want with a werewolf in my bed every night? Pleading with me, begging me to screw you senseless. You're nothing but a dirty beast Lupin; a werewolf. And the next time I see you I won't hesitate to kill you. Now get. Out." He had hissed sinisterly, pushing Remus away.

No matter what efforts Remus made to contact him- the letters were always returned unopened. He cut himself off of the floo-line and avoided public places like Diagon Alley like the plague. Then after James and Lily died... Remus stopped sending the letters altogether.

These foolish games are tearing me-

You're tearing me, you're tearing me apart.

Your thoughtless words are... breaking my heart.

Remus sat on the edge of his bed, sobbing into his hands. He hated Christmas.

You're breaking my heart.

After a good long while, Remus' sobs finally died down to just crystalline tears spilling down his ivory face, flowing from his eyes like a fountain and dripping onto the sheets.

Those sheets.

Remus hated Christmas. Especially since it had been seventeen years since his last Christmas with Severus.

You took your coat off,

And stood in the rain.

You were always crazy like... that.

Was it okay? Hopefully if I get around to it I'll be posting Sevvie's side of the story, then a final one to end it all up nicely. Either that or this'll be a one shot. I was just SO inspired listening to that song OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN.

PLEASE tell me if it was good or not.... I've never really been good at writing anything with any depth. All of my work is crap and I have no doubt this is too. *sigh*

By the way: If you are going to flame, flame only because you don't like how I write... not what I wrote ABOUT. And if you DO flame me with a nasty little fireball at least leave a way for me to reach you. Like SIGNING IN.

^.^ Review please! Boost my confidence? A little bit? Please?