the_debt_of_time

The days before the full moon, anyone searching the dark alcoves of the castle
would find Mia pressed up tight against some rough surface as she coaxed the animal out
of Remus, nipping at his lips and neck and roughly pulling at his hair while he drove into
her, growling behind golden eyes as she moaned, "Harder," into the shell of his ear.
He still had not lost control with her, and Mia almost wished that he would. His
aggressive side was becoming addicting, and she felt guilty that he would feel anxious and
worried after the rougher moments they shared together, nervous that he might have hurt
her. She did not dare tell him just how much she enjoyed it.
The morning following the full moon was a day of recovery. After his potions and
healing in the infirmary, Remus would return to the dorms, citing the need for sleep. His
understanding friends—who had all caught up on their lack of sleep during the morning
hours—would vacate the room to allow him to recuperate. The moment James, Sirius, and
Peter were off to the Quidditch Pitch where they always ended up, Mia would slip up the
stairs and into Remus's bed, where they would shut the curtains and put up the strongest
of Silencing and Locking Spells.
They lazily made love beneath the comfort of clean sheets. She traced the lines of
his scars, kissing away the new scrapes, and they fell asleep in one another's arms with
whispers of "I love you" on their lips.
Remus and Mia were the perfect safety net for one another—having the ability to
express and feel love in a way that kept them free from heartbreak. He did not have to be
alone while he waited decades for his mate to suddenly show up in his life. She did not
have to force herself to deal with the issue of her bond with Sirius and the future where
she knew he was waiting for her—the day after her nineteenth birthday.
They could use each other to escape their entwined futures with other people.
They used each other well.
And often.
"You still haven't gotten me a gift?"
She sat straddled over the back of Remus's bare legs, moving her hands down to
the strained muscles of his lower back, still sore from the transformation the night before.
His skin was littered with various scars that she found surprisingly beautiful, as though they
told the story of his character. She leant down and pressed her lips to each one
affectionately.