Chapter Text
Remus breathes deep the sweet smoke from the joint. Lily plucks it from his mouth as he holds the smoke in his lungs. Her eyes squint as she inhales, mouth pursing around the smoke, joint pinched between her fingers.
“You’re supposed to let me have two puffs,” complains Remus after he breathes out.
Lily rolls her eyes and inhales again. On the exhale she says, “Tough.”
Remus grins and takes the offered joint, stealing two puffs this time. They’re facing each other with crossed legs in the garden under the towering tree. Remus doesn’t know what type it is.
“What…brand of tree is this?” he asks, everything slowing around him. It’s warm and the sun has just set, the glow of the back porch light highlighting Lily’s soft features.
She splutters, “Brand?” She cackles until she’s gasping for air.
Remus chuckles. “I don’t know… species?”
“Right,” Lily sighs with a laugh. Then shrugs. “I don’t fucking know.”
“Thank you so much.”
Lily takes the joint again and inhales, offering the last puff to Remus. He takes it and grinds the end into the grass, leaving behind a blackened circle.
“How are your boyfriends?” she asks.
“How is your girlfriend?”
“Which one?” Lily snorts.
Remus shrugs. “Dunno. The one you’re seeing this week.”
“Alex is lovely, thank you very much.”
Remus gazes up at the branches of the tree, blurring into the night sky. “I don’t know if we’ll still be…back in New York.”
“Why not?”
“Dunno.”
“Yes you do.”
Remus sighs. “Maybe it’s just this summer. Here.”
They have a week left in the Hamptons before they head back to their stuffy apartments and the city’s cramped heat. It’s been a bit like a dream, long days and nights, wine and sun and James and Sirius. He doesn’t know what it means outside of these months, crystal water stretching into the horizon.
“You know,” Lily sighs and lies back in the grass, hair splaying around her. “You know,” she says. “You can like both of them. That’s allowed.”
“No. Yes.” Remus huffs. “Um.”
Lily laughs. “Oh, Remus.” She props up on her elbows and looks at him with exasperation. “You’re all always just…looking at each other. Waiting.”
“I’m so fucked,” he groans, scrubbing his hands through his hair. It’s salt-crusted and dry from the ocean. He hasn’t showered since their swim that afternoon. “I like both of them so much,” he whispers.
Lily’s hand comes to rest on his shoulder. “I know. I think that’s what they feel too. If it helps.”
Remus looks up and her hand slips from his shoulder into her lap. Their movements are slow and hazy. A breeze drifts by. “How…how does it even work?”
“Probably something like what you’ve been doing. With more kissing.”
“Lily,” he huffs.
She widens her eyes, tinged red from the weed. “Right. Okay.” She shuffles until their knees are pressed together. “You just do it. You tell them how you feel and it works out, probably. And then you all spend time together. It’s not that different to a relationship with one other person.”
Remus gnaws at his bottom lip, not really feeling the tug of teeth against skin. “Is that – A relationship? Could we do that?”
Lily nods. “If you want. If they want to.”
“I’m just a stand in for the other, I think. They obviously love each other.”
“Well, yes.” Lily rocks forward and back, elbows digging into the fleshy part of her thighs. “But whenever I’ve been with all of you. It’s – It’s like this. Sirius is waiting for both of you to look and notice him. He does something and waits until you’ve both reacted. And James is always pulling Sirius back and you in, drawing you both there with him. And you –“ Lily laughs. “Remus, you follow them everywhere. The most lovesick expression I’ve ever seen. I have never seen it before on you. I think you’ve always been like this, one person was never right.”
Remus grunts, trying to piece together what Lily is saying, how it slots into his images of the three of them together. “I don’t want anyone else.”
“I know,” Lily replies. Simple, like it’s a statement of fact. “It’s both of them though. Together.”
Remus stares at the little circle of burnt grass and Lily’s hands fiddling with the fraying hem of her denim shorts. “Yes,” he murmurs. “I think you’re right. It’s them. The two of them.” It settles into his bones and lingers.
“You should talk to them.”
Remus sighs. One week.
“I will.”
///
The afternoon sweeps by in a sun haze lingering on their skin. It’s Sirius’ grin each time Remus skates by and catches his eye, the grunt of pain when Remus fell, knocking his knee to the brushed concrete, and Sirius cupping the skin around the graze, blowing gently at the raw skin.
When Remus met Sirius after lunch, his eyes had been distant, jaw working as his teeth clenched. He wound repetitive circles where the concrete met grass, insisting whenever Remus asked that he was fine, he didn’t want to leave. Remus’ stomach clenched every time he caught sight of Sirius’ taut back muscles, the way he rolled his neck and shoulders every so often.
Eventually, Sirius sits down on the grass, legs pulled to his chest, chin resting on his knees. He watches Remus with soft eyes, allowing a smile to pull at his lips whenever Remus looks his way. After Remus falls, not uncommon while skating, Sirius frets over him and makes him sit on the grass, one hand always on some patch of his skin.
“Are you okay?” Sirius asks again, worry laced within his tone, eyes searching Remus for any more harm.
Remus bats Sirius’ hands away. Sirius returns one hand to Remus’ knee. “It’s not even bad. I’ve grazed the entire right side of my face before.”
Sirius frowns, deep creases grooving between his brows. “I’m not sure about skating. It seems dangerous.”
Remus swipes sweaty curls back into his hair. “What’s life without a little danger?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow. It should be jaunty and silly. Instead it coils and looms right at the join of their flesh where Sirius’ hand rests on Remus’ scraped knee. A fragile touch, a hopeful one.
Sirius stares at him, teeth burrowing into his bottom lip. There’s a patch, at the corner of his lip where the top layer of skin has peeled, raw and blooming red, that Remus can’t seem to stop staring at. He imagines slotting his mouth at that corner and soothing it with his tongue.
Sirius exhales and those lips quirk. Remus drags his eyes to the beach, waves thundering onto the sand in the distance. “You make a good point, Mr Lupin,” he muses. “I would still prefer if you didn’t injure yourself.”
Remus shrugs. “Details.” Sirius scoffs and Remus picks at the patch of grass between them. Rolls it between his fingers and leaving waxy residue. He asks, “What had you in a strop when you got here?”
Sirius whips his head towards Remus. “Strop?” he splutters.
Remus smiles. “Seems appropriate.”
Sirius blows out a long breath, pieces of hair fluttering around his jaw. “James and I had a fight.”
“Yeah?”
He nods and stares down at his hand on Remus. “I don’t even know what about.”
“I’m sure you do.”
Sirius gathers his hair into a bun and ties it with a band around his wrist. Pieces spill forward and frame his face. “I just don’t get it. Us. Sometimes.”
Remus puts his fingers to his mouth and chews at the nails, teeth digging in to skin. “You and James?”
“Yeah,” Sirius breathes. “Me and him.” He shuffles his legs. “You came up at one point. But I don’t…that didn’t make sense either. I don’t know.”
Remus starts picking at the skin around his nails instead of chewing at them, head bowed. “Were you fighting about me?”
“I don’t know,” Sirius shrugs.
Remus blows out a laugh with his breath. There is heat and twisting at his stomach and he wants to –to just climb inside Sirius’ skin. “Alright,” he says and Sirius smiles at him, crooked and tentative. He curls the hand around Remus’ injured knee.
“We should go back,” he says quietly.
Remus nods and stands, one hand grasping his board, the other held out for Sirius. He takes it, and their palms are clasped in intoxicating alignment – the knobs of their fingers sliding against each other, the lines on their palms, the ragged edges of both their nails – until Sirius drops it once he’s righted himself and strides across the grass.
Remus tugs at the front of his t-shirt and follows.
The afternoon is just beginning to wane when they reach the Potters. The house is quiet, air still cool from the AC thrumming all day. Sirius flicks it on as they reach the living room and heads straight for the liquor cart, wooden and gleaming with plated gold detailing.
“Whisky?” he asks. His voice has gone low, gravel raked over by tyres and smoke looping into the heights of a ceiling.
“Sure,” Remus replies, mouth dry. He sits on the couch with his legs tucked under him and accepts the generous glass from Sirius. Sirius sits close without touching. He fiddles with his phone and music begins playing from overhead speakers.
Remus’ head spins a little as he stares out the balcony doors, watching the sun splay across the water, shining golden into the living room. Sirius is right there and he is warm, shifting his leg until it presses against his thigh. Remus swallows a gulp of whisky, feels the burn and tastes little of the oak-barrel depth James once described on a late night, glasses slipping down his nose.
Drink resting on his thigh, Remus turns towards Sirius, pulling his arm up and resting it on the back of the couch. Stray hairs tickle his forearm where Sirius’ head rests on the cushion. His eyes are lidded and dark as he drinks from the glass, his lips left shiny with the liquid. Remus holds his breath, letting it prickle in his lungs as Sirius licks his lips, slowly, staring at him.
“Sirius,” he murmurs.
Sirius cocks a brow, infuriating aristocratic tilt to his mouth. He hums and moves even closer. His shoulder brushes against the crease between Remus’ chest and upper arm. Remus drains his glass, rides out the heady spin of too much alcohol too quickly with his head tilted back, and places it on the couch arm. When he tilts his head back, Sirius is palming at Remus’ neck, dragging him in. They kiss with slick mouths and hot breath. It’s addictive and sweet, treacle flooded with desire on their tongues. Remus kisses him and breathes him in, digs into the flesh of his thigh and neck and devours him whole. Lets Sirius take anything he wants.
“Sirius,” he gasps out, moving back. His fingers trace his jawline, nails scratching gently at the skin. Sirius nods his chin upwards, moving into the touch while exhaling a wavering sound, another smile teasing his lips. “Sirius,” Remus says again because he can’t think for the scorching across his skin, for the want thrumming low in his belly. He pulls back further, hands remaining. “You’re in love with James,” he utters.
It is quiet, the music mere background noise to the cacophony of each other in their grasps. Sirius nods, dragging eyes away from his lips.
“Yeah,” he sighs. He sounds sure even as his fingertips burrow into the thin wisping hairs at the back of Remus’ neck.
“Why did you kiss me then?”
Sirius pushes his face closer. “Because I wanted to,” he breathes and kisses Remus again.
Remus moves into the kiss, desperate for it regardless of how long it lasts. Sirius’ leg is thrown over Remus’ thigh and he grips at the exposed flesh, fingers dipping beneath the hem of his shorts. Short gasps of air and then they are pushing together again, ready and wanting.
It ends with a heart dropping, “Oh.”
They both move at the same time, heads turning over the back of the couch towards the stairs. James stands encased in the fading golden light, white shirt stretching across his shoulders and the horrible cold expression of someone witnessing something they feared but hoped never to confirm is true. His brows crumple into his eyes, mouth pulling at the edges into a mockery of a smile.
“Sorry,” James says, high-pitched and warbling. He coughs. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.” He dashes down the stairs and a door slams.
Sirius swears and stands; leaving Remus at the couch with a glance that is part agony and part apology.
“Sirius, wait!” Remus calls. It spills from his mouth as blood from a wound, clotting and incessant, without thought.
There is no response. Just his thumping footsteps down the stairs and the slamming door. Remus sits in the silence, hands twisting in his lap. He swallows against a harsh lump in his throat, inhaling short spurts of air. The music cuts off, leaving the faint sound of cars passing on the road and the ever-present ocean crashing to shore.
After several minutes, Remus stands and clambers down the steps, knees bowing out beneath him before he locks them straight. It is not much better.
He pushes out the back door, nothing but a hunch leading him into the grey evening light, towards the waves frothing filmy white against the shore. Two figures are hunched in the sand, halfway down the beach from the Potters access point. Both their knees are tucked to their chins, feet pointing towards each other like a compass, a signpost. Always, of course, in a language neither of them can read.
Remus approaches, wary, heart pounding. He has been obsessing over these boys for eight long weeks. He is sure he is about to lose them. It takes less than a minute for his legs to carry him over the sand, slipping beneath his feet, shoes kicked off at some point in the living room.
“James,” he says, sitting down and crossing his legs. It comes out like a plea.
James sniffs and digs fingers into one eye beneath his glasses, swiping roughly. “Sorry,” he mumbles. Sniffs again. “I’m happy for you, really. I just thought –“ He snaps his mouth shut and grimaces. “Nothing,” he heaves out.
“Sirius, what have you said?” Remus demands, turning his head towards him. Sirius’ hair is pulled out and raked through. His fingers keep clenching around each other as they lie against his shins.
Sirius opens his mouth. Works his jaw. “I –“ He shakes his head. “I don’t know.”
“He said,” James begins. “He likes you.” The betrayal is heavy in his words, directed where Remus isn’t sure.
“James,” he says again and James looks at him, frowning. Remus sighs, grasps the front of his shirt. He pulls James in and kisses him.
James makes a sound, half gasp and half sigh into his mouth. Sirius lets out something else entirely. James’ lips are soft and waiting, a little dry at the edges from salt wind whipping at him the entire summer.
Remus pulls back, places one kiss lightly to his mouth, and settles at the join of their feet. He looks at both of them. Sirius is grinning, incredulous with his eyebrows high, mouth wobbling as he tries to speak.
“Yeah,” Sirius laughs. “Yeah. James, that was what I was trying to say.” Sirius looks at Remus. “I didn’t know how to say it without sounding…”
And Remus feels nothing but hope bundling in his chest, like placing logs upon a fire, letting the flames lick at the wood until it is all embers and warmth.
“Yeah,” Remus breathes. “I know.” With a tremor he feels in his veins, Remus grasps both their hands and tugs them until they are shuffling closer, knees knocking and legs overlapping. Sirius stares at James and James stares at them both. They are all smiling hopeful, sweet things on their lips. “I want both of you. I want both of you and I can’t…I don’t know. I wasn’t sure but I thought, maybe –“
“Yes,” James – emphatic, wide eyes – says. He squeezes Remus’ hand and moves in, reaching forward to clutch at Sirius’ other hand. Sirius startles a little but links their fingers. “I didn’t think it was allowed.”
“Lily said it was,” Remus replies.
Sirius nods, laughing. “Well the Queen has spoken, I suppose. We must listen.”
James brings both their hands to his lips and makes their fingers overlap so he can kiss them both at the same time. Short kisses, frantic, over and over again. Then he kisses the back of Remus’ hand with parted lips, follows the path of freckled skin to Sirius and kisses twice. James places Remus’ hand down and pulls Sirius in, one hand cupping his neck, the other still gripping to his fingers. They both pause, hovering with their lips a breath away. Remus holds his own as Sirius closes the distance, both hands entangled with Remus and James, kissing James with a gasp of relief. James smiles into the kiss and traces his thumb across Sirius’ cheekbone.
Remus smiles. There is no jealousy or twinge of melancholy low in his chest. It is joy clambering across his bones and taking over every shadowy corner of his body. He smiles, and because he can, he wolf whistles.
They pull apart. Sirius has a look of wonder riddled with satisfaction - a cat that caught the canary, still a little shocked about it.
James chuckles with his crooked grin. “Shut up.”
“I might just do that every time you two kiss,” Remus contemplates. “It’s very sexy.”
Sirius tugs on his hand. “Every thing you do is unbelievably sexy, Remus.” He shoots a pointed look at him. “The nose ring.”
James throws his hands up, a strangled noise coming from his throat. Sirius rests his dropped hand on James’ knee. “And the skating!”
Sirius grins with his bottom lip between his teeth. “Oh, don’t even get me started on the skating.”
Remus rolls his eyes, cheeks heating. “Shut up.”
James leans forward, smile melting into a smirk that weaves into Remus’ every breath. “Never,” he murmurs and smacks a kiss to Remus’ cheek.
“For god- Okay, come here you two,” grumbles Remus, tugging at their clothing and their wrists, urging them closer until James is tucked on one side, Sirius at the other.
Their warmth mingles in the press of their skin, legs tangled in a heap on the sand. Remus buries his nose in James’ course curls, whipped wild in the wind, and smells coconut and woods, so deeply comforting. He twists his head and does the same to Sirius. He is fire and sandalwood and boy. Remus wraps his arms tighter at their shoulders.
“What are you doing?” James asks.
“None of your business.”
Sirius pokes Remus in the ribs. He grunts and mumbles, “You both smell really good.”
Sirius laughs, bright and thrilling. James rolls his head on Remus’ shoulder to look at him. His grin is lazy. “Why thank you, darling.”
Remus stares out towards the ocean, everything ink black and murky with evening set, and ignores the heat gathering at his cheeks. The moon is fat, hanging heavy and bright in the sky, cocooned by a curtain of clouds at its base. They are quiet, breaths mingling with the waves and call of shouts further down the beach, near the main strip. There’s a faint light shining along the path from James’ house, illuminating them in soft shadows. Remus can see the bow of their lips, the creases at their cheeks. They are two weights steady at his side, holding him down.
Remus doesn’t track the time until James speaks. His voice is low and there is a fragile, teetering glass balancing across his voice, waiting to shatter at their feet. Remus presses lips to his hairline as James whispers, “Is this fucked up?”
Sirius tenses at his other side and Remus tightens his hold on both of them. Stay, it says.
“Maybe a little,” Remus offers, fingers tucking beneath James’ rolled shirtsleeves. “But I don’t care.”
He feels James nod against his shoulder. “Neither do I,” he agrees. He straightens in the hold.
Remus pulls his hands through their hair, curling at the shell of their ears and stroking the thin skin. “I thought it was obvious that I wanted both of you.”
Sirius snorts, settling off his shoulder to look at them. “I was so confused. I just kept thinking there was something wrong with me for wanting both of you. For liking the way Remus looked at me.” Remus tugs lightly at his hair.
“There’s not,” James assures, firm. Sirius hitches a smile.
“You were both so sad before,” Remus whispers. “I hated that.”
Sirius bites his lip and looks at James with a tender expression. He collects his hand in both of his and kisses his palm. “Yeah,” he says softly. “We were.”
James smiles in a sad sort of way and leans his head on Remus’ shoulder again, nuzzling in, mouth brushing at his collarbone as he says, “I didn’t think I could get any sadder until I met Remus. Then I wanted both of you and thought I couldn’t have you.”
“God, that fucking sucked,” Sirius laughs. There’s a bit of wetness behind it.
Remus looks at his lap as he offers, “I thought you two were in love and I’d never have a chance. That you were just having fun with me, filling space until you realised how to be together.”
James lifts his head and grasps his hand, squeezing. “We’re not.”
Sirius kisses the crook of Remus’ neck and whispers, “Promise.”
“I know,” Remus smiles, curling his fingers into their hair, tugging them to his chest.
They are quiet again. Sirius breaks it, whispering into the space between Remus’ shoulder and neck, a holy patch of skin graced by his lips. “I don’t think we would have known how to be together without you.”
“Yeah,” James agrees. “It didn’t work until you came along. There’s a reason for that.”
“Maybe I’m the translator,” murmurs Remus, feeling lazy and slow with both of them at his chest, hands in their hair, their smell right there with him. The rush of everything has sunk into his joints and he just wants to kiss them and hold them close.
“What?” Sirius asks.
“You two are always talking. I think sometimes you forget to listen,” he tries. “You were both saying it this whole time. And I’m sure it’s been that way for years.”
They both laugh a little.
“We should go back inside soon,” Sirius says.
“Yeah,” James sighs. “We should.”
Eventually they clamber back to the house, hands all over each other as if they will lose one on the journey and can’t bear the thought. Cooking dinner is a messy and distracted affair. James attempts to simmer a buttery tomato sauce, minding the pasta boiling in a pot, but Remus and Sirius crowd at his sides and kiss the swath of deep brown skin exposed at his neck and jaw, mouthing wetly until he’s whining and elbowing them away, emphasising the importance of not burning their dinner. Remus regretfully drags his hand from James’ toned chest and abs.
Another few minutes and Remus is pressed with his back against the counter, Sirius between his legs, so close he can feel every shift of his body, making out with gasping, heavy breaths. Sirius has both hands up his shirt, stretching the fabric as he feels across his chest and collarbones, at his back and low on his stomach. Remus is panting. He wants.
James complains, “Not fair!” The sound of a scraping pan and the gas switching off as he whines, “Stop that. I’m trying to feed you!”
Sirius wrenches away. “You could come join,” he offers, all breathy and low, almost like he’s already been fucked.
Remus mouths at his neck. Fingers tuck into his hair and pull him away from the skin. He pouts.
James leans in, whispers with an intoxicating roughness, “Dinner first. And then we can do whatever we want.”
“James Potter, you drive a hard bargain,” Remus pants.
Sirius shoves James away and moves to collect bowls and forks. “See what I’ve had to put up with for six years?” he complains.
Remus laughs. “Just terrible.”
They serve generous helpings of glossy orange pasta, Sirius stealing extra pieces of pancetta while James slaps his hand. They crowd together on the couch. Sirius wriggles between James and Remus, grinning innocently at both of them.
Remus almost loses his pasta. “Watch it babe,” he mutters, clasping onto the warm bowl with both hands.
“Babe?” Sirius echoes and then Remus almost has a lapful of Sirius, long limbs and misplaced grace, until James heaves him back onto the couch.
“Not yet!” James demands.
Sirius pouts but he settles under James’ arm and shoves a forkful into his mouth. James gets sauce all across his chin and around his mouth. Remus takes longer than both of them to finish his bowl, so Sirius takes it upon himself to kiss James clean, which Remus thinks is a little gross but he also can’t stop watching as their tongues work at each other between their lips, or when Sirius mouths all across the mess of James’ skin and James jerks his hips up.
Remus sets his bowl down then and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He works his way into their collection of limbs and trails kisses up James’ neck until he’s right there at his mouth with Sirius, and Sirius shifts seamlessly into kissing Remus with wet lips.
In between kissing and wandering hands, dragging fingertips against hot skin, salt still lingering in the creases of their bodies no matter how long they scrub each night, they find themselves upstairs. The summer and the beach lives in their bodies now, eight weeks of nothing else leaves them as an inexplicable part of the heaving, unstoppable force of the ocean. Remus gasps, tugging off his shirt and shorts as he collapses onto the bed. The balcony doors in James’ room are thrown open, bed sheets fluttering in the breeze, beside table lamps casting a warm glow across the room.
Sirius and James strip to their briefs, crawling towards Remus, tucking into his sides to devour his neck. Remus searches for friction, desperate and worked up after wanting this for so long. James runs a hand down, pressing hard at his stomach until he is gripping Remus through his underwear and Remus lets out a moan.
Sirius removes his head from where his lips latched to Remus’ neck, hair dishevelled, mouth red and puffy. He kisses Remus, fingers at his nipples, one hand in his hair. James strokes again, still through his underwear. Remus groans.
“Those noises,” Sirius whispers to his lips. He is wet and messy, devouring Remus and grinding against his side.
“Why do we still have underwear on?” Remus demands, grasping and pulling at their briefs.
They all have to pull away to strip fully and then James is between his thighs, kissing at the crease, teasing with hot breath and a smirk. Sirius alternates between kissing Remus on the mouth and neck and chest, always desperately, emitting little pants of air and soft moans.
When James wraps his lips around Remus, he throws his head back. The noises are obscene from all of them, saliva and sucking and heavy breathing, spurring Remus on. He opens his eyes to Sirius watching James work Remus over, rutting at Remus’ side. Wrapping an arm around Sirius’ shoulders, he drags him closer, kissing him once before reaching his other hand to wrap around him. Sirius whimpers and drops his head to Remus’ chest.
It is messy and awkward and the hottest thing Remus has ever experienced. He is half-delirious with the pleasure sparking at every inch of skin James and Sirius touch. Sirius comes twice and James and Remus accidentally make a mess of their end, so much so they have to drag the blanket in from the spare room to use when they go to sleep. Tongues are used to clean anything that remains.
Sirius wriggles between them with a soft sigh and flushed cheeks. He explains when Remus grunts from being dislodged off James’ chest and promptly made the pillow for Sirius’ head, “I’m the shortest.” He pouts up at Remus and Remus can’t help but kiss his forehead while rolling his eyes.
“Fine,” he grumbles.
James curls around Sirius’ back and Sirius hums, eyes fluttering closed. James kisses the back of his neck. “You finally got your fuck overlooking the ocean. In the four-poster bed,” he mumbles. Remus snorts, fumbling for James’ hand that hangs around Sirius. He grasps it tightly. “Unless you already got that somewhere else.”
Remus laughs, almost destabilising Sirius and having to place a soft hand to the back of his neck. “Where would I have even had the time?”
James shrugs. “I don’t know. You hooked up with that one guy in the car.”
“Fuck that guy,” Sirius grumbles, squeezing Remus.
Remus strokes his hair. “And then I spent almost every moment with you two after that,” he mumbles.
James hums and blinks at him with heavy, fond eyes. His glasses are on the bedside table, causing the brown irises to tumble into golden as he looks at Remus with fuzzy focus.
“James,” Remus murmurs. “Come here. I want to kiss you again.”
“Okay,” he says softly and leans over Sirius, biceps flexing, and kisses Remus with a soft, curling mouth. “There you go,” he whispers before parting his lips and deepening the kiss for just a moment.
He pulls away and Sirius makes a noise, twisting his head to follow James’ mouth without opening his eyes. James smiles with rich affection, offering Sirius a slow kiss. He settles down shortly after and Sirius tucks back into Remus. James throws a leg over Sirius’ hip and grasps for Remus’ hand again, holding as he closes his eyes.
“Shouldn’t we talk about this?” Remus murmurs into the quiet, eyelids heavy but not quite willing to sleep.
Sirius huffs. “I want to have sex with you both every day until I die. Okay?” he says and nods to himself. “Okay.”
Remus laughs with a tired contentment in his bones. “Okay.”
“I second that motion. Lots of sex and lying in bed like this please,” James affirms, all pleased and smiley into Sirius’ neck.
“In New York too?” Remus asks.
Sirius sighs. “What part of me saying every day do you not get, you stupid, handsome idiot? Were you not there for that emotional and draining scene on the beach? The fantastic sex with feelings we just had? Staring into each other’s eyes when coming is not one-time sex behaviour, Remus.”
James is laughing and laughing so Remus huffs, jostling Sirius because he can without letting him fall. “Fine. Okay.” He settles and curls towards their warmth, relishes in it.
“Goodnight loves,” James calls after he’s finished giggling.
A beat of silence; Remus lets his eyes slip closed.
“The lights are still on,” Sirius mutters.
Remus and James groan. Sirius laughs loudly into the clutter of their shifting limbs.
///
Three days later they drive back in Lily’s shitty 2007 Toyota Corolla – an absurd thing to have in the city - that she bought used with savings from summer jobs, insurance and registration courtesy of her parents. They drop James and Sirius off in their Upper West Side historical walk up. Remus spends a solid ten minutes saying goodbye to them at their doorway until Lily honks the horn and shouts from the open window.
“Disgusting,” she mutters with a grin as Remus waves, hanging out the window because he’s stupidly into these two boys.
Remus settles back into his life and his cramped flat, jamming open windows with old textbooks and smoking blunts into the humid air. Lily and him manage two days before they are back in each other’s company, moaning about starting school again, secretly thrilled with smiles hidden in their coffees as they wander into vintage stores because they both love school and their degree.
It’s a week before Remus sees them again. They plan to have dinner at his apartment and watch a movie. Domestic. Quiet. He hopes what they are is not suspended in the Hamptons, between the rows of lavish mansions and sand still embedded in the bottom of Remus’ suitcase. He spends the day tidying his apartment then untidying it a bit so as not to seem too clean. He sweeps the floors and wipes the dust from surfaces, making his bed. The apartment is dim and Remus is sweating by the time he’s done. No matter how much he tidies and cleans, it still looks like a run-down one bedroom with dodgy windows and water stains on the ceiling; piles of books wobbling against the walls and clutter marking every surface.
At six there’s a rapid knock on the door. Remus unlocks all the latches to have Sirius push through the door and back him into the wall bordering the kitchen, layering his face with kisses. They’re both grinning as Remus buries his fingers in Sirius’ hair and presses into his mouth, already open and waiting.
He pulls back and murmurs, breathless, “Hi.”
“Hey,” Sirius grins, eyes bright.
The door shuts and James hovers beside them. “Hello.” He ruffles his hair and ducks his head.
“Come here,” mutters Remus, pulling James in by the collar of his starched shirt, kissing him soundly. “Hello,” he replies against his lips as James grasps to their backs, holding them together.
Sirius laughs. “This is brilliant.” He kisses Remus’ neck. “I think we should forgo dinner and head straight to your room.”
Remus licks his lips and huffs out a breath because the nerves he’s been harbouring in his stomach lurch and flutter at having them here. “James will never allow it.”
James shakes his head. “I think we’ve broken Sirius. He’s insatiable.”
Sirius wrenches away and looks at them both. “I have spent years pining James. And then weeks of the two of you in nothing but wet swimsuits. Of course I’m insatiable.”
Remus laughs again, kissing them both on the cheek and drawing away. “I’m sure you two have had fun this last week.” Walking towards the couch, he comments, “I enjoyed that video by the way. What a way to wake up on a Wednesday morning.”
“It was my idea,” James smiles.
Remus gasps, “James!”
Sirius sits on the couch and looks about the room, James joining on Remus’ other side with a poorly hidden frown. A wiggling, hot thing makes itself known in his stomach as he watches them take in his shabby home. He swallows back curdling embarrassment in his throat.
“Did you both cry after having sex alone for the first time?” he asks, distracting them for a moment from his scuffed coffee table and fraying couch.
They both blush, sheepish. Remus grins.
“Shut up,” Sirius mumbles and kisses him again.
After, after a quick go of it in the living room, a dinner of Thai food from the place down the road, and another, more thorough round in the bedroom, Remus is malleable and warm and quietly in love. Take that noisy neighbours, Remus thinks vaguely in the haze of a numbing orgasm, fingers still curled in the sheets as James and Sirius collapse next to him, panting and sweaty.
James stretches, shoulders clicking, and slings an arm around Remus’ chest. “You should move in with us,” he mumbles.
“Oh yes definitely,” Sirius contributes. He is soft and limp, head pillowed on Remus’ hipbone, hot breath brushing the skin.
“Absolutely not,” Remus says. “We’ve known each other for two months.”
“This place is horrid,” Sirius scowls playfully, propping his chin on his stomach and gazing up at them. “Plus, it’s been two months and two weeks.”
“Oh,” Remus sighs, rolling his eyes dramatically. “In that case.”
“You have a scary neighbour,” James mutters. “And I have a very large bed.”
“I’m sure you do, babe.”
Sirius crawls up Remus and lies on top of him, trapping James’ arm, blowing tangled hair from his eyes. Remus smooths it back with his free hand, curling his fingers into the soft strands, scratching his scalp. Sirius leans into it, eyes fluttering.
“Good dog,” Remus jokes.
Sirius scoffs and licks his chin, slobbery and enthusiastic. “I’m a fan of this babe you use.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Should I call you Remy?” Sirius asks, eyes wide and innocent, completely ruined with the leering smirk at his cherry red lips.
“If you do I’m kicking you out of the polycule,” he mutters.
“Polycule,” Sirius repeats. “Fancy words, darling. Have you been researching?”
Remus shrugs as well as he can with two heavy boys plastered over him, sweat sticking their skin together. “A little.”
“So have I!” James grins, lifting his head and looking at them with bleary eyes.
Sirius pats his head. “Magic. You’re both magic. And such nerds,” he sighs. “How did I end up with two nerds?”
“You’re studying art history,” James reminds him. Remus snorts and Sirius wrinkles his nose. It should look haughty but in reality it’s exceedingly adorable. Remus bites his nose lightly.
Sirius props further up on Remus’ chest to escape his affectionate teeth. “And I’m the dog,” he grumbles.
“Gosh,” Remus sighs, nudging James. “Is he always this chatty after sex?”
“Afraid so,” James replies. He rubs his eyes with one knuckle and shakes his head as if to wake up more. “I’ve had to get his mouth around my dick twice this week just to shut him up.”
“I do love giving head,” Sirius muses, stroking James’ eyebrows with a thumb.
“Brilliant mouth on you,” affirms Remus. “And ass,” he adds, squeezing one round cheek. Sirius yelps and squirms, already half hard again as he rubs against Remus’ stomach.
“James,” Remus hums.
“Yes, dear?”
Remus bites into his grin, shifting Sirius between them. “I have an idea for how we can get Sirius to be quiet,” he says, nipping his way down Sirius’ chest, leaving blooming bursts of red.
James groans and hooks a leg over Sirius, hand wandering. “See how long it takes?”
“I won’t- ” Sirius’ breath hitches as their mouths begin to wander. “I won’t say no to that.”
They find it takes two orgasms and some fingers hooked and slick between his lips for him to be quiet for a whole ten minutes afterwards.
James is glowing, hair a devastating mess, wire-frames perched back on his nose as he collects water from the kitchen. The taps splutter and groan, wrenching in the walls.
This revives Sirius, climbing over Remus again and lining their bodies. “Clingy, aren’t you?” Remus mutters, wrapping his arms around Sirius and nuzzling into the thicket of his hair tumbling at his neck.
“You definitely should move in with us,” he sighs.
“Ten minutes,” Remus mutters. “Not bad.”
“Good effort,” Sirius compliments, tapping two fingers to the pulse at Remus’ elbow. “You’re insufferable,” he adds. “You can’t avoid us forever.”
“I’m never planning to avoid you. Just trying to establish a few boundaries like living separately before this relationship crashes and burns.”
“Honestly,” Sirius huffs. “I thought two boyfriends was supposed to mean sex every day all day.”
“We would get nothing done,” Remus points out.
“Details,” he mutters. And then, “James!” he shouts. Remus flinches.
“Christ, Sirius. I’m right here,” James replies, placing two water bottles on the nightstand, sculling the third.
“Sorry, sorry,” Sirius says. He slides to Remus’ side and says, looking at Remus, “I was just letting you know I’m going to tell Remus I love him. Because he’s very pretty and very comfortable and he just gave us lots of orgasms.”
Remus bites his lip and tries to hide his face in the pillow but James slopes over the both of them and uses a calloused hand to keep him in place.
“Great. Because I was thinking the same thing,” James beams. “I love you, Remus.”
Remus works his mouth and wishes his hands were free so he could stick fingers in his mouth and chew. Instead, he is bold. He says, “I love you both too. So much. Too much. I am exhausted by this great, heaving love that has taken residence in me and I will never, ever relinquish it because you’re both wonderful and horrible and perfect.”
Sirius grins and laughs, crinkling eyes and rows of white teeth. “You can really tell you’re a film major in moments like these,” he says.
“Oh hush.” Remus rolls his eyes.
James settles on his back, legs thrown over the entangled heap that is Remus and Sirius. “You’re going to make brilliant films, love.”
“I’ll make them about us,” Remus says brimming with happiness, so much of it that it rackets around in his chest and bones and joints. He could die from it. But he has to write a film about them first.
“You’ll have to get some very stunning and attractive actors,” supplies Sirius, beginning to grow boneless again, curled up and delicate against Remus.
“It will be a hard task,” Remus sighs. “But it has to be done.”
“No one else could do the job but you, Rem,” says James.
Remus groans long and low. “Rem is okay. Nothing else.”
“Got it,” they chorus. Then freeze. Then laugh.
It is absolutely ridiculous and he loves them and he wants to stay tangled amongst their sprawling limbs forever, bony elbows and jutting chins and all. They slope into sleep not long after, breaths misting over warm skin, stand up fan whirring in the corner, Sirius complaining until he drops off to sleep. James and Remus meet eyes over his head and James mouths I love you again. And it is all absolutely perfect.