Disclaimer: all Harry Potter characters belonged to JK Rowling or otherwise stated.

Pairing: Sirius Black x Remus Lupin, implied Severus Snape x Harry Potter, implied Remus Lupin x Harry Potter

Warning: Angst, Slash. AU, OOC. rated R.

Am I so selfish? For wanting this for my self.

Am I so selfish? For wanting you in my arms.

Am I so selfish? When you have your body pressed against mine. Your lips kiss me slowly then you latch onto my neck, nuzzling gently, tongue licking and I gasp with pleasure... and you whisper another name against my sensitive skin.

Am I so selfish? You would curl around me and I you, and we would start moving, skin against skin. More often I'm in you than you in me, because you want to take someone else, because the one you want isn't me.

Am I so selfish? For driving you away from your one and only with a kiss here and a kiss there, a subtle touch here and a subtle touch there? It drives your suitor away, your one and only. And I know you don't know he loves you too just like you love him. Oh, lust is different. You know lust, but you don't know love even if it's dancing in front of you with green eyes and a pair of old rusty glasses. You know lust but you don't want lust; you want lust and you think he's in lust with you and not love you and you don't want that and you hate yourself for wanting him, lusting after him, being in love with him. And yet your wolf senses can't tell you about his love, only lust, but I know better. Oh yes, I know better.

Am I so selfish? For always waiting for you with two hands wide open to welcome you back, help you, kiss you goodnight, caress you when you want 'his' touches, his kisses, his embraces? But there's only me here in this house and you and me, we'd make a beautiful painting if you'd let me, if you'd let me paint you with all colors. My beautiful wolf. I will cherish you, love you/fuck/ you until you can't remember him anymore.

Am I so selfish? For kissing you in front of him and fondling you when he's just a room away and can hear our bouts of lovemaking? We scream and come so loudly. Do you know I love the sound of your voice, especially when I have you calling my name when you cum so that he could hear, so close to our room? It certainly kills everything he wants to do with you and to you and you to him. I can hear a heart break from another room when we fuck so hard tonight. And when he stops his visits except for Christmas, you tell yourself it's because a young boy like him should have been busy. After all, he's completing his education in a year. That schoolwork is always taxing. You convince yourself he has not forgot about you. And you would go on with your delusion.

Am I so selfish? For inviting him for dinner close to full moon with his current lover, his consort? Yes, they are married now, right after he finished his education. Aren't you happy? I am happy for them you know. It's all exactly what I wanted, well not exactly, but as long as I can have you, he can fuck whomever he wants, even if I hate his choice. But it's better than him having you. I first gave them the usual –expected protests; the anger; the accusation: 'molesting a seventeen year-old-boy, my /godson/. What are you thinking? I'll kill you!'; and the hate I, ah, so easily projected; and the threats -- my personal favorite, castration -- yep, it always works like a charm. And you will restrain me, put me on a body bind, and tell me with a calm voice that my godson is old enough to chose whoever he wants to, can't I see the love in them? They are so in love. Wouldn't I want my godson to be happy? Of course I want him to be happy. And so with a resigned voice I approve their wedding, but if the greasy git hurts my precious godson, I will skin him alive. They would smile and you smile without the warmth in your eyes, and you will see them so happy. I will gently pull you into my arms, and late at night I will hear you cry and hear you break apart, but I will always mend it back for you. And I will let you fuck me, calling me his name, but I will only allow this one time and no more.

Am I selfish? When he no longer flinches when I touch you subtly, just on your knee, moving up and down? My hand just loves to feel you up under the table. He no longer avoids looking at you when I kiss you on your cheek. He's not looking at you at all. He's looking at his lover, so adoringly, so lovingly. And your body would tense and your hand would clutch the fork as if you want to stab the dirty old man for taking your love. I hate him too, my godson's lover, but he serves the purpose, and I can't stay childish, nursing my hatred against him after I'd said yes to their bonding, can I? He helps me take away your love and I'm eternally grateful, even though I don't say it to his face because I still hate him. But after all, they make a lovely couple, eyes burning with love only for each other, hands itching to do what I do under the table, bodies touching, pressing together like stickers. You flinch every time he or his lover touch and just hold hands. You look away when he kisses my godson, uncharacteristic of him, knowing our personal vendetta. But you can't look away, just like the Muggle saying about trying not to look at an accident scene -- you can't take your eyes off him. You sit there, rigid, your back strained, smiling without warmth as they excuse themselves, back to their chosen secure bedroom, his old room. He's no longer looking at you with longing and want, no more flinching at the mention of your name and mine in one sentence. His eyes only look at his lover and his lips only want to kiss the greasy git, not you. The door closes and a ripple of magic and a double silencing spell are cast, good for at least three days. You bite your lips and clench your hand into a fist so hard I can see your knuckles so white and I'm so sure you've bit yourself to bleed. You pretend nothing happens and let me lead you to our room.

Am I selfish? For giving my godson to someone else and not you, for choosing you over him, for letting him choosing the bastard over you? For you to choose /me/ because I'm so selfish to want you to choose me, and I want to own you? To have you have me and only me? You ride me in pain and in pleasure/inside/ me. So good, so fucking good to have you fuck me so hard. I cry and you cry and we are wet with our tears, sweat and cum. And blood. And I don't care because you're here with me and not with him and he is with someone else and not with you. Scratching with fingernails. Our bodies press against each other to become one, biting, licking, touching; hard and fast like in the roller coaster ride. I always love that Muggle play. Moaning, screaming, sighing and screaming again and again and my throat dries and is harsh and it hurts but I still like to scream when you hit me again and again/inside/, over that sweet spot. And I bare my neck this time, unlike for years when we've been together /fucking/. And you howl in pain, in pleasure, and you take what's rightly yours all along. The moon shines brightly into our room as you let yourself out and I can have you both, you and your wolf. And I'm so giddy, I cry again. I finally have my pet wolf to paint. We howl and fuck and come. It is so good the moon cries bloody red. With cries of completion, of pain, of pleasure breaking the fabricated darkness.

Am I selfish? For loving you so much it hurts? For wanting you so much that I reduce to this? For using any possible means, any tricks I have, to have you for me alone, to have him be with someone else?

For possessing you, for being possessed by you?

[ Fin

Credits: to Ziasudra for beta-ing. Thank you.