Chapter Text
It had become so commonplace that Sirius sometimes forgot to fully appreciate it, forgot to bask in the nostalgic awe he used to feel in those first few months. Quietly, he crept into the hallway, stopping just outside the bedroom door. Softly settling his back onto the wall, he let his head fall backward, his eyes fall closed. And he listened. That warm wonder moved through his chest, a fond, familiar sort of tugging feeling at the base of his sternum that nobody else in the world had ever been able to give him.
“Hey, oh, hey, oh, I hope you weren’t waiting long,” Remus sang softly to himself from within the bedroom, and Sirius took in a deep, silent breath as he reveled in the sound. “I hope this night makes up for time lost.” His voice was softer than it was on stage, and sometimes it grew so delicate that he lost it somewhere in the middle of a verse. But he always found it again. “Hey, oh, hey, oh, feels like I met you years ago,” he continued, his voice so sweet that Sirius didn’t notice that it was drawing closer until it was right next to his ear. Sirius pried one eye open to see Remus had leaned around the corner of the doorframe just as he finished with the last line. “And we’re picking up right where we left off.”
“Your voice still does things to me,” Sirius confessed, turning his head to place a quiet kiss to Remus’ lips. In response, Remus moved from the bedroom and stood in front of Sirius for only a moment before falling into him, hips first, and pressing him to the wall (which was Remus’ favourite thing to do).
“I would hope so, considering we’ve only been together for four months,” he hummed contentedly, letting both hands slide up the wall over Sirius’ head so he could lean in even further.
“We should’ve moved in together the day you left the church,” Sirius said, still huffing about it.
“Come on, you’ve got to admit it was a little fun when I stayed with James and Lily in your old bedroom,” Remus said with an adorable wrinkle in his nose, unsettling his characteristic gold frames.
Sirius unwillingly gave up a smirk of agreement. “Oh, no, I’m having much more fun now that I get to watch you walk around our house naked whenever the mood strikes you. Which is often.”
“I’m not naked now,” Remus said with a playful roll of his eyes as Sirius deliberately let his gaze flitter down Remus’ exposed chest before moving back up to his eyes. “I’m wearing pants, thank you.”
“Not that I’m complaining, but those boxers are not hiding anything,” Sirius grinned. In retaliation, Remus rose that one eyebrow that Pete had unsuccessfully pierced in their youth, and shifted his hips into Sirius’, just to give him a reminder of what those boxers were not really hiding.
“Then I might as well take them off,” Remus replied with an arrogant smile before slowly leaning in, using the pressure of his kiss to open Sirius’ mouth a little wider (his other favourite thing to do).
“We’re going to be late if you keep this up,” Sirius breathed into his open mouth, argumentative in word alone as his fingers found their way to Remus’ hips, tucking into the elastic of his boxers.
“Considering we planned the whole damn thing, I think we’re allowed to be a little late,” Remus argued, using his tongue to keep Sirius from making a counterpoint before adding, “I think it’s only right that we have a little celebration of our own beforehand.” A weighted breath moved from Sirius’ lungs as Remus’ lips migrated down his bared throat, and he couldn’t help but remember when this was all they had – throat kisses that never dared move to the lips for fear it would lead to something more, hips flush but never for more than a brief, heated moment, panting each other’s names in warning and uneasiness.
“Well, I was about to make you breakfast, but your idea is much better,” Sirius laughed as he let his fingers run through Remus’ unruly hair, while Remus’ fingers moved up the hem of Sirius’ shirt. “But I’d better turn off the oven now, before I burn the whole damn house down when I forget it later.”
“I’ll allow it,” Remus said, smiling dreamily as Sirius stepped away, spinning so that he could keep looking at Remus as he walked backward toward the kitchen, raising one seditious brow at the way Remus tucked both thumbs into the elastic of his boxers, displaying much more of the tattoos on both his hips, adjacent to the crease at his thigh. “Make it quick or I’ll start without you,” he smirked arrogantly.
“Dammit, Moony,” Sirius hissed, sprinting off toward the kitchen as Remus sauntered back into the bedroom. With a flick of his wrist, the oven was shut off, but just as Sirius turned to make a mad dash to where Remus was most likely taking his only remaining item of clothing off, the back door opened.
“Morning, Padfoot,” Teddy said simply, lazily swinging the kitchen door closed as he let himself fall into the closest chair at their cozy kitchen table. “Is Fath – is Remus up yet? I’m hungry.”
“Isn’t Dora home?” Sirius asked in exasperation that was only half-pretend. “Can’t she cook you breakfast? Remus doesn’t bake a dozen cinnamon rolls every day, you know. He doesn’t run a bakery.”
Teddy shrugged, adjusting the ring in his nostril. “She’s at the youth center with Harry already.”
“Which is where we should be, which is why we haven’t made breakfast,” Sirius insisted, glancing toward the hallway in impatience. “Listen, you go on ahead, I’m sure there’s food there, we’ll meet y–”
“Why are you trying to get rid of me?” Teddy asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.
“Look at me, I’m not even dressed,” Sirius said, gesturing down his torso at the pyjama bottoms and Holyhead T-shirt with the stretched out collar from overuse. “And Remus isn’t even –”
“Just go get dressed then,” Teddy said, waving him away as he opened the refrigerator. “There’s still some pastries left over from yesterday, I’ll eat that while I wait. And then we can go together.”
“Teddy,” Sirius seethed through clenched teeth, voice low. “Right now, I need you to –”
“Sirius,” Remus called sweetly, his voice coming from the hallway. Hoping desperately that Remus had heard Teddy’s voice, Sirius pulled a wince, gone still in the suspense. “Forget breakfast, my mouth is watering for your co–” And Remus appeared in the doorway, completely stark naked. “Coffee,” he corrected quickly as Sirius immediately tossed him a dish towel to cover his indiscretion the moment before Teddy pulled his head out of the fridge. “Hi, Teddy,” he said with teeth clenched and ears pink.
With barely a glance in Remus’ direction, Teddy rolled his eyes. “You two are so gross.”
“Teddy, I love you, but the key was for emergencies,” Remus reminded him, still very naked.
“I’m hungry, that’s an emergency,” he argued through a mouthful of cold pastry, totally unbothered by Remus’ state of undress. Just as Sirius was about to very politely tell Teddy to fuck the fuck off, Teddy opened the back door, muttering under his breath, “Too busy shagging to let a guy even heat up his pastry, honestly, I think I liked it better when he was a priest,” with a mischievous smirk as he left.
After a few moments of awkward silence and a couple of very exasperated sighs, Sirius turned to find Remus still holding the dish towel over his groin. “Ruined the moment?” Sirius asked worriedly.
As an answer, Remus let the towel fall, and the drop of Sirius’ gaze was immediate, his eyebrows rising high on his face in the same instant. “I’ll make it quick,” Remus promised, biting down on his lip.
“Teddy can wait,” Sirius shrugged, stepping close and sliding Remus’ length into his loosely formed first. Remus exhaled a breath of satisfaction, and Sirius craned up to catch it in his mouth as he bathed Remus in a slow, languid kiss. “I’d rather let you take your time.” Remus twitched in his hand.
“Are you sure?” he asked, purpose in his throat as he continued with a deliberate thought, “I could fuck you right here on the floor, if you’d like.” With soft pressure and a softer whimper, Sirius walked Remus backward without letting their lips part, pinning him to the wall for a moment.
“It would be just like the first time, in the hallway of my flat in London,” Sirius hummed into Remus’ mouth from where it hung open and eager. “Back when you were still Father Lupin.”
“Do you miss it?” Remus asked with a knowing smirk as he tugged Sirius into the bedroom. “Do you miss blatantly ogling me in my clerical collar?” His nose wrinkled as he antagonized Sirius.
“A little,” Sirius admitted as Remus pulled the threadbare T-shirt over Sirius’ head, a tumble of loose, dark curls rising and falling around Sirius’ naked shoulders as Remus openly appreciated the sight.
“I still have it, you know,” Remus said as he settled onto the edge of their bed, tucking his fingers into the waist of Sirius’ pyjama bottoms and using the elastic to pull Sirius into the space between his naked legs. Looking up at Sirius with intent, he added, “I still have that funeral chasuble you like, too.”
“Fuck, really?” Sirius asked with a wildly suggestive smirk, single eyebrow high.
“And I’m still legally ordained,” Remus continued preying on Sirius’ weakness, working the rest of Sirius’ clothes from his slender hips. “Technically, you wouldn’t be incorrect to call me Father.”
“Fuck me,” Sirius groaned, though it may have had more to do with the fact that, as soon as Sirius was hanging bare before his lips, Remus took him wholly into his mouth, then all the more deeply into his throat, as Sirius continued to speak. “You just want me to say that thing that makes you come so hard.”
Slipping Sirius from between his teeth, Remus spoke, using the break in his words to lap hungrily at the tip of Sirius’ cock. “And what thing is that?” he asked specifically, spurring Sirius to say it again as he moved further onto the mattress, tugging at Sirius’ hips so that he would follow his mouth. With wordless direction, Remus situated himself underneath Sirius’ spread legs and opened his mouth, waiting.
“Bless me, Father,” Sirius teased with a smirk, watching the incited way Remus swallowed, the moth on his throat fluttering in anticipation. All at once, Remus licked his lips, leaning up to swallow Sirius’ cock, impatient with Sirius’ deliberately slow movements. As he let his head fall back onto the mattress, Sirius had no choice but to lean over him, bracing against the mattress with both hands. And as Remus reached up to hold Sirius by the backs of both thighs, Sirius let slip a wavering, “Fuck me, Father.”
Remus responded with a deep and vibrating moan, eyes rolling closed as Sirius thrust into his throat again, a little deeper, with Remus’ grip on his thighs tightening and pulling him in further. For a moment, Sirius got lost in the debauched expression on Remus’ face, his mouth sucking greedily under sunken cheeks, his amber eyes only opening to get a glimpse of the absolute ruin on Sirius’ face.
With a soft pinch to Sirius’ thigh to get his attention, Remus gestured with a nod over to the bedside table, speechless yet with his mouth still filled with Sirius’ throbbing skin. In understanding, Sirius paused in his thrusting to rummage through the drawer, and as he leaned over, he pulled slightly out of Remus’ mouth. Softly, Remus mouthed at the head of Sirius’ cock as he let his fingers ghost down the backs of Sirius’ legs and back up again until Sirius finally leaned back over him, bottle of lube in hand.
Without a word of instruction, Remus held out his hand, watching Sirius with an inflammatory gaze as he continued to openly kiss the plush pink head of Sirius’ cock, and Sirius applied a sufficient amount of lube into Remus’ waiting palm. There was a hum of satisfaction in Remus’ voice as he slipped his hand down between Sirius’ legs, his shoulder rubbing against the inside of Sirius’ thigh as he began to pleasure himself underneath Sirius. At first, Sirius was so focused on the heavy breaths that moved through Remus’ nostrils and the desperate hum in his full mouth and the subtle movement of Remus’ arm that he nearly pulled out of Remus’ still-open lips. But Remus craned up to keep him there, arguing with a delicate, aching moan, until Sirius moved back onto his hands, pressing into Remus’ throat again.
Sirius moved back into the rhythm, thrusting into Remus’ eager mouth in time with the motion of Remus’ fist that he could feel between his legs. At the same moment that he began approaching a familiar edge, he felt Remus’ hand slide up the back of his leg, his fingers wet and slick. When Sirius’ attention focused on Remus’ expression in response, there was nothing there but avarice and need.
That expression remained in place as Remus’ softened touch slipped into the crevice of Sirius’ skin, the calluses on his fingertip rough against Sirius’ hidden, delicate skin. At first, Remus’ finger drew a tight but gentle circle, still wet and warm, eliciting a perpetual shudder in Sirius’ aching skin.
“God, please, just fuck me, Moony,” he begged, his voice indelicate and high, and Remus obeyed at once, sliding without friction into the depths of Sirius’ skin with a satisfied hum in his occupied mouth, the movement of Remus’ other hand around his own cock increasing in equal measure. The harder Sirius fucked Remus’ mouth, the more mercilessly Remus fingered him, adding another finger until he could surely feel Sirius throbbing between his teeth, aching with the need to spill out between them.
Remus’ breathing was sublimely heavy, panting out warm through his nostrils against Sirius’ belly with every inward trust, though his breaths were shunted every time Sirius drove in so deeply that the precipice of his airway was half-filled with Sirius’ cock. The breaths in Sirius’ chest grew more shallow, too, with every thrust of Remus’ fingers and every expertly timed swallow in Remus’ tightened throat.
“Remus, I’m – oh, fuck,” Sirius called breathlessly, on the verge, his exclamation hollowed out into a soft, prolonged cry of, “Oh, God, Remus,” as his shoulders shuddered, his thighs quivered, and he spilled out into Remus’ mouth, the muscle around Remus’ fingers fluttering with every continued stroke.
After a thick, wet swallow, Remus pulled off of Sirius’ cock to breathe out, “Can I still fuck you?”
“Yes,” Sirius exhaled sharply, still wildly aroused, but absolutely spent. “But I’m …”
“I’ve got you,” Remus softly assured him as Sirius collapsed onto the mattress next to Remus, and Remus shifted out from under Sirius’ limbs. Without being asked, Sirius lifted his hips from the bed, and Remus held him on either side, his fingers still wet against Sirius’ skin. For a moment, he paused, placing several tender kisses to the base of Sirius’ spine, and Sirius could feel him stroking his own cock, keeping himself hard. “Do you want me to –” Before he could finish asking, Sirius gave him an avid response.
“Yes, please,” Sirius answered eagerly, and without another moment of hesitation but with a trembling breath of anticipation, Remus buried his face in the cleft of Sirius’ skin, his tongue finding that same delicate skin that his fingers had found, circling it with his tongue the same way. “Remus,” Sirius called out, the fires that his orgasm had put out almost immediately reignited. “Oh my God.”
Remus paused his lazy oral exploration of Sirius’ wet skin only to say, “Jesus,” in that trademark Irish lilt that got a little heavier, a little less subtle when Remus was really stimulated. With a warm, heavy breath, Remus tilted his head back in again, kissing every part of Sirius’ skin underneath his lips until those kisses grew open and messy and full of tongue. No longer was his tongue drawing delicate circles, no longer was he lapping indolently at the plush of Sirius’ skin. He gripped Sirius’ left hip hard, his right hand shifting against the back of Sirius’ thigh with every stroke Remus delivered to his own cock, and he slipped his tongue into Sirius as deeply as he could, spending as much time as he was able just tasting him, flicking that tongue back and forth inside Sirius until Sirius was boneless, until he was begging.
“Remus,” he whined, his voice a whisper from his breathlessness. “Fuck me senseless.” But before Remus stopped the movement of his tongue, Sirius felt him find the bottle of lube from within the sheets, moving it closer to Sirius’ hand, and Sirius was grateful for it, his cock already hard and aching again from the movement of Remus’ skillful tongue. With a generous palmful, Sirius fisted his own cock, letting out a little sigh of satisfaction that quickly turned into a moan from the curl of Remus’ tongue.
Just when Sirius thought he would come from the wicked drive of Remus’ tongue, from the merciless way Remus fucked him with it, Remus pulled away with a sharp, panting breath, straightening his back to align his hips with Sirius. And when he pushed in, there was nearly no resistance at all with how open and wet Remus’ tongue had gotten him. With a groan, Remus pulled out and thrust in again.
“Fuck me,” he groaned, both hands tight to Sirius’ hips, and Sirius stroked himself in time with Remus’ thrusts. “Talk to me, Padfoot,” he begged, rolling his hips. “I want to come to the sound of your voice.” There was a careful smile in the corner of Sirius’ lips as he readied to fulfill Remus’ favourite whim.
But the only thing on his tongue was truth, and he said it without thinking. “God, I love you so much,” he said honestly, delirious in the closeness of the last orgasm and the approach of the next one.
A quiet breath moved from Remus’ lips, his hips slowing for a moment as he said, “That’s the first time you’ve said that to me,” in a tone that carried weight. While he continued the movement of his hips, he slowed to a tender pace, pushing Sirius’ hair to one side so he could lean forward to place a sentimental kiss to the back of Sirius’ neck, and Sirius indulged him, arching backward to facilitate it.
“Technically, I said it at the church first,” Sirius reminded him, turning his head so that Remus could continue lavishing him in affectionate kisses, most of them falling behind Sirius’ ear, leaving him shivering under the warmth of Remus’ anxious breath. “I meant it then, and I mean it now.”
“Sirius,” Remus sighed deeply, moving one hand from Sirius’ hip so that could hold him adoringly by the glass edge of his jaw, peppering tiny kisses down Sirius’ neck and across his shoulder blade.
“Don’t tell me I made the mood too heavy for you to keep fucking me,” Sirius laughed, taking Remus’ hand on his face to move it to his mouth, pulling Remus’ middle finger into his lips.
“No, I …” Remus paused, pressing in deeply as Sirius swirled his tongue around Remus’ finger, and Sirius could feel him twitch at the added stimulation. But his hips remained still. “Sirius, I’m –”
“Don’t say anything, Remus, just …” he said as he pulled Remus’ fingers from his mouth, taking in an unsteady breath and straightening his back carefully with Remus still buried within him. He didn’t want Remus to feel forced to say it in return, he didn’t want to ruin the momentum any further. “Just fuck me,” he commanded, moving Remus’ hand down to his own cock and coaxing his fingers to stroke.
At first, Remus was quiet, moving as Sirius had instructed, and the air was weighted with things that went unsaid. But, as always, Remus did the one thing that Sirius didn’t expect him to do.
“Say it again,” Remus softly requested, pressing his chest to Sirius’ back, their hips flush again.
“Fuck me,” Sirius repeated, lowering his voice further as he leaned his head back to rest it on Remus’ shoulder. Despite how Remus’ body responded to that phrase, Remus let out a restless breath.
“No, I want you to say the other thing,” he answered quietly, and Sirius couldn’t help but remember the way Remus had said that very phrase the first time they were together like this.
“I love you.” Sirius said those words again, and this time, his voice was a little more fragile, a little more cautious, a little more subdued. If Sirius thought Remus’ body had responded the first time, he had been mistaken. Under this weighted phrase, Remus let out a heaving breath against the overly sensitive skin at the curve of Sirius’ neck just before devouring it entirely, sucking and biting until it bruised.
“Again,” Remus demanded, the harshness of his voice in strict opposition to the adoration for which he was appealing. But as he carefully pulled out only to plunge into Sirius again and again and again, the movement of his fist on Sirius’ cock stroking in time to his brutal thrusts, Sirius went mindless, ready to bend to Remus’ every whim, especially when Remus whined, “Again, Sirius. Please. God.”
“I love you, Remus,” he called out, all at once on empty lungs as Remus let out a low, grateful moan into the bruised skin underneath his sharpened teeth. All these confessions were swelling in Sirius’ chest, and before he could stop himself, the emotion began gushing. “And I’ve never been in love before and I’ve never been so fucking terrified like this before and I don’t want to just do things to you that are godless and vile and profane, I want to do things to you that are disgustingly romantic and annoyingly affectionate because I love you, Moony. More than I have ever loved anything in all my life.”
“Jesus, fuck.” With one last exhale, Remus shuddered against Sirius, his twitching hips pressed in tight and his fingers trembling around Sirius’ length. “Christ,” he sighed heavily, sated and still, pressing a soft, apologetic kiss against the skin he’d just violently assaulted with his mouth. After a few seconds of coming down from his climax, he unwillingly pulled out of Sirius with a groan, sounding discontented to have to separate from his bond to Sirius. “Come here, sit back,” Remus instructed, settling against the headboard and pulling Sirius in between his spread legs, slicking up his fingers with more lube before returning his fist to Sirius’ cock, much to Sirius’ very vocal appreciation. With his free hand, he pushed Sirius’ long hair to one side, clearing the space to kiss Sirius over the place where he’d marked him.
Finally looking toward the bedroom door, Sirius said, “You know, we probably should’ve closed that door, now that Teddy lives next door to us,” he said with a playful wince as Remus let out a breathy laugh against his skin, wrist still shifting in a dedicated rhythm. “And also since someone gave him a key to our house,” he added, turning so that he could see the smile on Remus’ face, muted and sweet.
“He knew we were shagging, he wouldn’t have come back,” Remus argued. “Besides, it couldn’t be as bad as that time at James and Lily’s when they were home and we didn’t realise it.”
“Oh, James still won’t let me live that one down,” Sirius groaned, for more reason than one as the grip of Remus’ fingers tightened around him. “Speaking of James, I gave him a key, too.”
Remus let out a short laugh. “Well now they have two, because I just gave one to Lily yesterday.”
“As soon as they move next week, that’ll be three neighbours who will have no concept of what a locked door means,” Sirius said with a laugh that dissolved into a panting breath. “God, Remus.”
“If they walk in on us often enough, they’ll learn to start knocking,” Remus assured him, kissing down the prominent bone of Sirius’ shoulder blade again. “I’m surprised they agreed to move here.”
“You should be more surprised that I agreed to move here, considering it’s less than a block away from my mother’s house,” Sirius argued, but it was short-lived as Remus’ kiss moved up his neck, the still-unsettled breath from Remus’ orgasm panting out heavily into his ear, sending a jolt down his spine.
“I wasn’t surprised at all,” Remus stated plainly. “You knew I couldn’t leave this place with all the work that I’ve put into it. Not to mention, I couldn’t leave Teddy or Harry. And neither could you.”
“Besides, all the seeds that you planted here are finally bearing fruit,” Sirius spoke proudly, reminding Remus of all he’d accomplished. “Your charitable youth center opens today.”
“Our youth center,” Remus reminded him. “Yours and mine and James’ and Lily’s.”
“When Mary told me that day at the church that she had another employment opportunity, I never thought you’d both been planning the idea all that time,” Sirius said with a comfortable smile.
“Well, it was only an idea until you came along and gave me the … incentive,” Remus said with a curious laugh, just as Sirius felt his breaths coming up short, his hips bucking a bit into Remus’ fist.
“Eight years of school and six years of practice, wasted because of your insatiable lust for me, Father,” Sirius teased, his taunt fizzled into a desperate breath as Remus placed an open kiss to his neck.
“Turns out, it’s still insatiable,” Remus sighed, kissing up the back of Sirius’ neck and into his hopelessly mussed hair. “Because I’ve spent the last hour making love to you and I think I’d like to make love to you for the rest of my life, Sirius, because I love you, too. More than anything,” he whispered, burying his confession in a mass of words, using the increased stroke of his fist as a distraction, but it didn’t get past Sirius. In fact, alongside Remus’ warm breath and his tight fist and his soft kiss, it was part of the catalyst that led to Sirius’ second coming, so much heavier, so much more profound than the first.
“Oh, fuck, Moony,” Sirius breathed out, every muscle shuddering, every inch of his skin fluttering, every vein pulsing, and every flood of every orgasm for the rest of his life beginning and ending with Remus Lupin. As he spilled out over Remus’ softly curled first, Remus let out a satisfied moan, pulling his hand away from Sirius’ aching skin, evidently to admire the slip of Sirius’ orgasm between his fingers.
“It’s still hard for me to believe that, you know,” Remus said softly. “That you love me.”
With a derisive snort that evolved into a laugh, Sirius replied, “I’ve got a foolproof way to make you believe it.” The growing smile on his face became hard to stifle. “Ask me how much.”
“How much do you love me?” Remus asked in a tone that sounded cautious. As Sirius turned in his place between Remus’ legs, morning light from the bedroom window sparked over his silver eyes.
“More than I love James,” he said solemnly, raising his eyebrows to show his sincerity.
“Oh my God,” Remus breathed out in genuine surprise, a timid laugh moving up through his throat, the celestial wings of the moth on his skin fluttering underneath it. “More than James?”
At first, Sirius shrugged, smiling, but it was interrupted by Remus charging forward to claim Sirius’ mouth in a restless kiss, using his forearm to hold Sirius in place since his fingers were still coated in the aftermath of Sirius’ climax. With a mumbled laugh, Sirius hummed his approval into Remus’ lips.
For several long minutes, they stayed locked in this kiss as it devolved from something heated and frantic to something comfortable and mild. After a while, when Remus moved his hand to Sirius’ ribs, still sticky and wet, Sirius thought he’d forgotten about opening day at the youth center and about all the things they still had left to do beforehand and all the people waiting on them to arrive. Until he spoke.
“Say it again,” Remus asked of him, a request into the depths of Sirius’ mouth, a split second before he suddenly pulled away, holding out both hands to draw Sirius along behind him, and Sirius didn’t hesitate to take his grip, despite the messy slide of their palms as they moved together.
“I love you,” Sirius repeated as Remus led him into the washroom, turning on the shower.
“No, the whole thing,” Remus corrected, pulling Sirius close, watching and waiting.
Sirius rolled his eyes. “I love you more than James.” As Remus stepped into the cloud of steam, he glanced back at Sirius with a rise in that brow that had the scar running through it, smiling wickedly.
“I’m telling James you said that.”
The moment they walked up to the youth center, a dozen people all swarmed in all at once to fight for Remus’ attention. The hot cocoa vendor cancelled last minute, Mary reported in a tone that conveyed worry, but not panic. Teddy was trying to fix the sound system, which had evidently been working up until that moment, according to Dora. James and Lily hesitated to mention that there were still workers finishing up installing the tile in the main room. Tugging on his sleeve was Harry, who had been not-so-patiently waiting all that time for them both to arrive. After a breath, Remus just smiled.
Every crisis was handled with grace and with ease. Having thought ahead, Remus had already booked two separate hot cocoa vendors, and a single call to the second was all it took to arrange for them to account for a larger crowd. It was getting cooler outside, after all, and surely their youth center was not the only place arranging for an early autumn festival like this. The sound system problem was practically easy for Remus himself to fix, having an abundance of experience with audio equipment from all his shows with Holyhead. As for the tile – well, Mary would just lead the tours of the new youth center around construction. And Harry was easily made content with a ride on Remus’ lofty shoulders.
There was a lot of work to be done. Throughout the morning, Sirius lost track of Remus as they worked on separate things. After all, the whole event had been Remus’ vision, he’d planned every detail of the day, from the concessions to the games to the music to the tours. Of course, that meant that every problem also funneled back to Remus, as well. But he managed each one with a smile.
The last Sirius had seen of Remus, he was handing out booth assignments – every festival booth had to be manned by someone, but there was no shortage of volunteers. Mary would take care of the building tours (she would be working as the director of the center, after all), James and Lily would be doing face-painting for the kids, Marlene and Dorcas would hand out gift bags, Teddy was running the sound booth and making announcements, and Sirius – well, Sirius had volunteered for something specific.
The festival wasn’t meant to start until late afternoon, when the sun sank low into the purple sky and a chill moved through the air, when hot cocoa tasted the sweetest and twinkling lights looked the most inviting. Everyone was bustling around to make last minute adjustments before the main gate around the grounds opened. With only a few minutes to spare, Sirius began looking for Remus, passing Pete at his booth (where he would be drawing caricatures), and he gave him a little wave.
As Teddy started the music and visitors began to arrive (thanks to the immense amount of advertising Remus had done for the event), Sirius smiled at hearing a familiar song playing overhead. Above the soft glow of yellow lights that would grow brighter into the evening, above the gold and burgundy balloons that were tied to every booth where people lined up to enjoy toffee apples and popcorn and spiced tea, above games of chance where kids could toss ping pong balls to win a goldfish with bright scales of pink and orange and red, above the banner that read ‘Regulus Arcturus Youth Center Grand Opening!’, drifted a song that sent a surge of affection into Sirius’ chest. It was their song.
Before he could look around to find Remus in the crowd, Remus was already sliding his hands around Sirius’ waist from behind, singing sweetly into his ear next to delicately placed kisses. “Lately I’m alright, and lately I’m not scared,” he sang, his voice low and breathy, his lips warm against Sirius’ neck.
Sirius finished the line for him, singing with a maudlin smile, “I’ve figured out that what you do to me feels like I’m floating on air,” as he let his fingers drift up to where Remus had pressed his face to Sirius’ own. As his touch moved to Remus’ throat, it was impeded by something unyielding. With a furrow in his brow, Sirius turned in his place in Remus’ arms to be greeted by a smile and a surprisingly nervous swallow, and Sirius watched the movement of his throat. Under his fitted clerical collar.
At the worried widening of Sirius’ eyes, Remus quickly explained. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m not going back to the church,” he said, and Sirius breathed out a sigh of relief. “I just thought I’d look a little more … virtuous, if I wore the collar. You know, to cover up my massive amount of tattoos.”
“Hey, I like those tattoos,” Sirius grumbled, tugging at the collar to peek underneath it.
“Father Lupin!” they heard from across the lawn. In practiced form, as if it were four months earlier and they were still forbidden from touching, Sirius and Remus separated quickly, glancing over at each other with knowing smiles as they were approached by a strangely large group of people.
“Arthur,” Remus said in surprise as he shook the older man’s hand. “Good to see you, good to see all of you,” he said to the group of eight standing in front of him, and Sirius quickly realised, by their matching freckles and varying shades of red hair that they were all one family. “Sirius, these are the Weasleys, members of my … well, my former church,” he said with a crooked grin.
“Any relation to Bill?” Sirius asked. “He owns a pub down from my flat." He glanced at Remus with pride. "Well, used to be my flat.”
“He’s our oldest!” the man called Arthur said with a ferocious smile, immediately shooting out his arm to shake Sirius’ hand, and Sirius felt like his whole body shook with it. “Small world!”
“I’m Sirius. It’s nice to meet you,” Sirius said, wearing that infectious smile.
“Listen, Father,” Arthur said, taking on a slightly more solemn tone.
“It’s just Remus now, Arthur,” Remus reminded him with a quiet smile.
“Right, right – Remus,” he nodded, his smile a brief intermission from his stern expression. “I didn’t get to tell you back then, but what the church did to you was terrible, just terrible.”
“I appreciate that, Arthur,” Remus responded with a near-sigh, finding Sirius’ fingers next to him.
“Since you left, that church has been nothing but fire and brimstone,” the woman next to Arthur said with a disappointed shake of her head. “Sorry, hello, love,” she said, turning to Sirius. “I’m Molly.”
“Lovely to meet you, Molly, I’m Sirius,” he said again, gently shaking her hand.
“I remember you,” she said, eyes shining. Sirius pulled his lips into his teeth.
“Right. The photo,” he said with a grimace. In truth, he loved that photo (kept it framed on the bedside table on his side of the bed), but he didn’t love the memory of the panic it had incited in him that day. He didn’t love to remember the look on Remus’ face as he stood in the door of his empty flat in the basement of the church for the last time, not knowing where his life was going to lead. He didn’t love being reminded of the way Remus had cried on the way to James and Lily’s, over the life he’d lost.
“No, dear, not the photo,” Molly said with a dismissive wave before leaning in, cupping her mouth with one hand to whisper, away from the ears of her children, “Though I thought the photo was rather sweet, even if it was a little risqué.” With a hearty laugh, Arthur finished her thought.
“She’s talking about Fathe– sorry, Remus’ last day in the church,” he said with a fond smile in Sirius’ direction, going so far as to clap one hand to Sirius’ shoulder, and the other to Remus’ shoulder.
“It was such a romantic gesture,” Molly said, clasping her hands in front of her. “The way you stood in the aisle to wait for him,” she said to Sirius, before turning to Remus to add, “The way you reached for his hand before walking out together. I had tears just pouring down my cheeks!”
The smile on Sirius’ face was immense. “It was rather romantic, wasn’t it?” he said with a deliberate wink in Remus’ direction, quite pleased with the way Remus’ ears turned pink in response.
“And, you know, we’re certainly not the only ones who have left the church since you were forced out,” Arthur said with a click of his teeth. “Plenty of people weren’t happy with the way they treated you, and many more are not happy with the way the church is being run now that you’re gone.”
“So, you can just imagine how tickled we all were to hear that it was you starting up this youth center!” Molly said, reaching out to give each of them a squeeze on their shoulders.
“We told everyone we knew who left the church when you did,” Arthur added.
“Oh, I’ve told everyone we know, in general!” Molly gushed. “It’s really a wonderful thing you’re both doing.” Before Remus or Sirius could get another word in edgewise, Arthur spoke up again.
“Going back to the faith, Remus?” he asked, gesturing to Remus’ clerical collar. But Remus just shook his head as he lowered his gaze, bashfully running his fingers through the back of his hair.
“No, not … not properly,” Remus admitted, and Sirius smiled quietly at the way the tattoos on Remus’ wrist were visible when the long sleeve of his shirt stretched a bit too far. “I just think the collar lends me a little more esteem that the tattoos do.” With another loud laugh, Arthur shook his head.
“I think you’ll find you won’t even need it,” he said with a wide grin.
“It was good to see you, Arthur,” Remus said, reaching in to shake Arthur’s hand again, in that same, two-handed way that Pete shook his hand the first time Sirius met him. “Prayer groups start on Wednesday evenings, if you and the kids want to come by. Maybe you and Molly can help me lead.”
“Love to,” Molly beamed, a curious twinkle in her eye as he added, “And I think you’ll find we’re not the only ones willing to volunteer.” As they walked away (and Remus waved at the kids of varying ages who followed after them), Sirius realised that there was practically a queue behind them. And they were all there to talk to Remus. Molly had been right – they were all former members of Remus’ church, and there wasn’t a soul among them who didn’t want to help Remus with running the youth center in one way or another, whether it was donating money, donating time, donating food, or talents (Marlene, Dorcas, Alice and Frank had all volunteered to give free music lessons for their respective instrument once a week, Pete had offered free art classes).
It was probably an hour later when Sirius managed to pull Remus from the crowd, citing his other duties for the evening. And this queue was even longer than the first. With a devious grin, Sirius dragged Remus toward the booth, much to Remus’ loud displeasure. His complaining alone drew quite the crowd.
As Remus settled into the seat, his toes dipping into the warm water of the heated tank underneath him, Sirius called out, in an obnoxious voice, “Dunk the priest! Baptize the holy man!”
“You know, when I agreed to do this,” Remus sighed, “I didn’t know it would be this cold out.”
“Which is why I forked over the extra cash to get the heated dunk tank, Moony,” Sirius said with a wide, cheesy grin. “I’m not a sadist, you know.” At first, Remus opened his mouth to add a snarky comment, likely full of innuendo, but he quickly clamped his mouth shut again, glaring at Sirius.
“You owe me one of those apple pastries from Frank and Alice’s booth when this is over,” Remus bargained, just as the first contender stepped up, a gleam in his eye as Sirius handed him a weighted ball.
“This is for what I almost had to see this morning,” Teddy said with a sneer as he launched the ball at the target. It was a bullseye. With an adorable yelp, Remus went straight down into the water.
As Remus energetically resurfaced, flinging the wet curls from his face with a sharp toss of his head, he spit a mouthful of water into Teddy’s direction, laughing as he yelled, “Maybe that will teach you to knock next time, Teddy!”
“Sorry, Teddy, my boy, I agree with Remus on this one,” Sirius shrugged, leaning out of his booth as Remus did the same from his tank, and they met in the middle with a very wet kiss, made worse by Remus’ intentional splashing. “Though I will admit, it was exceptionally entertaining to watch.”
One by one, all their friends came by to take a turn sending Remus into the warm water bath, but they all made it up to him by bringing him a warm drink or a pastry or a caricature of him submerged in the tank (Pete said he would be offended if they didn’t hang it in their living room) in between dunks.
Watching his friends meld seamlessly with Remus’ friends left Sirius with a grin so wide that it burned a blissful soreness into his cheeks. James and Pete and Kingsley were conspiring about how to get Sirius into the dunk tank next (they thought they were being sneaky, but they weren’t), Frank and Marlene were discussing pros and cons of different brands of guitar, Alice and Dora and Lily were sharing a big plate of different samplings of the festival foods, Dorcas and Mary were helping Harry decide which prize he wanted to win for Teddy (who was across the way deciding the same thing about Harry’s prize).
After a few more dips into the water, when the evening grew late and the visitors all wandered home, Sirius helped Remus out of the tank and their party moved into the new building, where their friends snacked on leftover apple turnovers and pumpkin pastries while Remus (and also Sirius, who had gotten soaked in the process of helping Remus out of the tank) changed in Remus’ office.
When they emerged in dry clothes (after getting a bit sidetracked in the process of getting naked right next to one another), they found two cups of warm chai and a plate of cruffins waiting on them.
“What took you so long?” Marlene asked with a pointedly raised brow. And if Harry hadn’t been watching Sirius just then, Sirius could’ve given Marlene the finger as a reply. Instead, he just grinned.
“Trying out the new desk,” he said sweetly while everyone (except Harry) groaned.
“Anyway, now that you’re back,” James said, taking Lily’s hand tightly. “We have something that we wanted to announce.” As Sirius’ eyes darted over to Lily, her smile seemed uncontainable.
“Well, it’s not really so much an announcement as it is a proposal,” Lily half-corrected, the smile on her face only growing. With a covert nod, Teddy coaxed Harry to stand up with him.
“Wait, I want to hear the announcement!” Harry argued, at first, until Teddy let him by the hand over to where James and Lily knelt in front of him. He blinked behind his round frames.
“Bambi,” James said as he and Lily took each of his hands. “Lily and I were wondering – well, we were hoping, actually, that you might want to come and live with us. From now on.”
At first, Harry was quiet, his hazel eyes darting back and forth between them. “What about Teddy?” he asked carefully, looking up to where Teddy was still standing next to him.
“We bought the house down the street. You can still see Teddy whenever you like,” Lily promised, squeezing Harry’s fingers softly within her own. At the same time, Sirius felt Remus’ hand find his fingers, too, hearing the soft, contented sigh in Remus’ voice. Sirius found himself mirroring it.
“And I would live with you?” Harry repeated, as if in disbelief. “Like … like a family?”
There were immediate tears in Lily’s green eyes. “Yes, Harry, we want to be your family. We already finished all the paperwork, we just … we wanted to make sure this is what you wanted.” For a long time, Harry stood absolutely still, glancing between James and Lily, until eventually, his gaze found Sirius’ eyes from over James’ shoulder and Remus’ over Lily’s shoulder. He blinked again, and Sirius finally noticed the way his bottom lip trembled. Tears swelled in his eyes, magnified by his lenses.
“You want to be my mum and dad?” he asked as the tears rolled down his reddened cheeks. “Are you sure?” he cried, swiping ferociously at the tears on his face that slipped past his frames.
“Harry,” Sirius breathed out all at once, finding tears in his own eyes. Remus tightened the grip he had on Sirius’ hand, bringing Sirius’ fingers up to his lips to press a kiss to the heart on Sirius’ knuckle.
“We’ve never been more sure about anything,” Lily assured him, taking his face into her hands.
“But what if …” he sniffled sharply, “ … what if I make you mad? What if you think I’m weird?”
A careful laugh moved from James’ lips, unsettling a couple tears of his own as he moved his hand into Harry’s hair, still as choppy as when he’d cut it himself. “Harry,” he said, affection bleeding through his voice. “You could never do anything that would ever make us love you less. The first time we met you, we decided that we wanted to be your mum and dad. Nothing will ever change that.” As the tears on Harry’s cheeks began falling more rapidly, he took his glasses off, blinking and sniffling. “And you’re worried about being weird?” James said with an audible scoff. “Just look as us!” he said, throwing out his hand at the group of misfits that were gathered together. “Everyone here is weird! We like being weird! Which means, if you’re weird, too – well, then you fit in just perfectly, if you ask me.”
“So,” Lily said on a nervous breath, “What do you say, Harry? Do you think it would be alright if we could be your mum and dad?” As Harry put his glasses back on, his eyes wide and full of tears that hadn’t yet spilled over, he blinked, the tears ran down his face, and then welled right back up again.
“Yeah,” he said with a soft sob, bottom lip still trembling as he nodded. “That’s what I want.”
“Yeah?” Lily confirmed with a wet smile, tears streaming unnumbered down her pink, freckled cheeks. And Harry just nodded again, looking at Lily like he was waiting for something. When she asked him, “Can I hug you? Is that alright?” he leapt forward and wrapped his arms around her neck.
“Mums don’t have to ask kids for hugs,” he said sagely, still crying, sniffling into her red hair and holding on tightly. Quickly, James wrapped them both up within his embrace and squeezed until Harry let out a playful shriek, eliciting a full, beautiful laugh from Lily’s lips as their friends cheered.
There wasn’t a dry eye in the room, but especially not from Sirius and Remus, and especially not after James and Lily asked them both to be Harry’s godfathers. As Harry received hugs and kisses and congratulations from all their friends, Remus pulled Sirius in close, placing a teary kiss onto Sirius’ lips, whispering his love into Sirius’ skin for a moment. When they pulled away, they didn’t pull very far, and together, they picked up Harry, squishing him between them as they each kissed one side of his face.
As Harry flittered excitedly around the room, with James and Lily in tow, Remus placed his lips to Sirius’ cheek, whispering, “Speaking of new-found family, I have a surprise for you.” There was an immediate smirk on Sirius’ face, deprecating joke on his tongue before he could even turn.
“I hope you’re adopting me out to a new mother,” he huffed under his breath, brow raised high.
Remus partly interrupted in his enthusiasm. “His surname was Hayworth,” he said, and there was an immediate, inexplicable tightness in Sirius’ chest at that name as he fully looked over to see Remus beaming in Sirius’ direction. “Your Uncle Alphard’s partner, William. His surname was Hayworth.”
“Remus,” Sirius said with a slow, outward breath, an unexpected renewal of tears in his eyes.
“He’s flying out next month,” Remus said, looking cautiously in Sirius’ direction, most likely because Sirius’ trembling fingers had found their way to the shoulder of Remus’ shirt, gripping tightly.
“How did you –” he began to ask, but Remus finished the thought that Sirius’ couldn’t.
“It took me a long time,” Remus admitted, still watching Sirius carefully, as if he couldn’t quite decipher the complex flurry of emotions moving over Sirius’ face. “He’s excited to see you again.”
“He’s going to ask me about Reg,” Sirius said with a heavy swallow, looking up with worry in his expression, but Remus lightly shook his head, pulling Sirius close to his chest, and Sirius relaxed into him.
“I filled him in on a couple things.” Remus let out a quiet sigh. “He just wants to see you.”
With a tentative smile on his face, Sirius looked up from where Remus still held him close to his chest. “I love you, do you know that? I don’t think you can comprehend exactly how much I love you.”
There was a curiously arrogant smile on Remus’ face as he confidently said, “More than James, from what I've heard.”
“Feels like we haven’t been here in ages,” James said, taking a deep breath in, and Sirius knew he was breathing in the scent of spilled whiskey and stale cigarette smoke. It was a strangely nostalgic smell, and Sirius couldn’t help but smile at the memories it invoked. One memory, quite in particular.
“That’s because you’re a fucking parent now, with responsibilities and shit,” Sirius grumbled, though he actually couldn’t have been happier for James and Lily and Harry. Not to mention, he was rather enjoying all the nights Harry and Teddy came over to watch cartoons and play board games and build fortresses out of the cushions of their sofa and play hide-and-seek in the garden after dark.
“He really wanted to come watch Lily play,” James said, looking distraught. “I hated having to leave him with Dora and Teddy. I mean, I know they’ll have fun at the cinema, but he looked so sad.”
“Maybe we can convince Remus to let us use the youth center,” Sirius said, flashing his eyebrows up high a few times. “You know, a controlled environment, just Fidelius and Holyhead.”
“Speaking of Holyhead, is Remus ever going to get to play again?” James asked with a heavy sigh as he looked toward the stage, watching as the previous band packed up all their equipment. And while Sirius knew that feeling intimately, he also knew he didn’t want to guilt Remus into playing again.
“He’s just busy, Prongs,” Sirius said with a shrug and a sigh, seeing Rubeus pass by from beyond the crowd and giving him a quick wave. “There’s so much to do at the youth center. He’s got plenty of volunteers to help, but he’s the one who has to coordinate all those people. Mary’s got her hands full trying to keep up the books with all the donations coming in, and Dora’s practically running ragged trying to juggle all the extra counseling sessions she’s been booking on top of what she already had.”
With a smirk, James reminded him, “It’s still better than when he was at the church.”
“Oh, there’s no contest,” Sirius sighed heavily, before adding a smirk of his own. “Remus still gets to come home to me every night, after all.” Sometimes, he forgot what it was like to sneak around (except that one time Remus donned the collar and they snuck into his old church in the middle of the night to fool around in the confessional), forgot what it was like to have to keep himself from kissing Remus whenever the fuck he felt like it. He had never been so happy to forget something in all his life. Except when he forgot he had a living mother. Though, it was occasionally nice to be reminded of how miserable she was nowadays, all alone in a wide, empty, derelict house.
“Hiya, gents,” Sirius suddenly heard to his left, and he turned slightly to see Pete squeezing into the crowd from somewhere behind him, slipping through openings between people like a mouse through cracks.
“Hiya, Wormy,” Sirius beamed, pulling Pete close to his face so he could plant a kiss to the delicate flower vine that was tattooed along Pete’s bleach-white hairline. As always, Pete reveled in it.
“How was work?” James asked, and Pete took a breath. Which meant there was a story coming, told in the form of multiple run-on sentences and lungs that didn’t have enough air to complete them.
“Oh, okay, so my last session was this giant of a bloke, right, like the most massive dude you’ve ever seen and he gets into my chair and I’m thinking he’s going to want to do some stupid hyper-masculine design that either has an eagle or a lion on it – no offense, Sirius, yours is lovely – but he says it’s a tattoo of his dog, so like a Rottweiler or something, right, but no, it’s a fucking chihuahua with a little pink bow on her collar, and anyway, I think you should turn around now, Sirius,” Pete said all in one breath, splashing on a ridiculous grin, and before Sirius’ brain could process all the information in Pete’s sentence, Pete took him by the shoulders and physically turned him around toward the stage.
Suddenly, right in front of him was a familiar pair of glamorously oversized white sunglasses over a characteristic black surgical mask. The immediate breath that Sirius took in was audible, surging in violently through lips pursed in surprise. From behind the mask, there was a soft, stifled laugh.
“Moony,” Sirius breathed out, gazing at him dumbly, his mouth hanging open in shock. Before Sirius could do or say anything more, a callused touch slipped underneath his chin, coaxing his mouth closed. The moment his lips were together, the man in the mask leaned forward and pressed a soft (but blatantly open) kiss to Sirius’ lips. Right through the mask. Sirius’ mouth went back to hanging open, but only for a moment. “You son of a bitch,” Sirius hissed, finally snapping himself out of the trance under which he had been so unwillingly (but blissfully) placed. That careful laugh puffed out from underneath the mask again. “You could’ve told me.” Sirius reached forward and tugged on the hem of his trousers.
“Where’s the fun in that?” a familiar, but muffled voice responded, and Sirius couldn’t help but laugh, remembering the last time those words had been said in this exact context.
As the band continued setting up, Sirius allowed himself to revel in the sight that he hadn’t seen in months. The plaid overshirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow to display his forearm tattoos – the line of a hymn, a ram’s skull, an elephant-headed god, prayer hands on fire. Now, there were a few new ones alongside – the phases of the moon across the backs of his knuckles, the word PADFOOT in stick-and-poke style (that Sirius had inked on his wrist himself), and a lip print just behind his left ear (that was the spot that made him go a little weak in the knees). As always, he wore an ironically sacrilegious T-shirt, and this one read ‘Punk rock saved my mortal soul’ which Sirius got additional pleasure from, considering he was the one who had picked it out. Over one shoulder hung a floral strap, holding up the matte-black Rickenbacker six-string bass guitar that Sirius had recently seen hanging over a lot more naked skin.
Without shame, Sirius put his fingers between his teeth and whistled, reminded of not only the first time he’d done that, at the conclusion of their first show, but it also reminded him of the time he’d heard that voice whistling from inside a church, before they’d ever even met. Remembering that left him breathless, wondering how he’d ever gotten so lucky to meet this man twice, as two different people.
And then, just as the instruments were all set up, and Dorcas was settling onto her drum seat and Marlene was stepping to the mic, the man in the mask did the thing that Sirius least expected. He knelt, close to his pedal board, and pulled a pair of round, gold frames from a hidden case, removing Moony’s trademark sunglasses to swap them for Remus’ trademark eyeglasses. The moment the darker lenses were out of the way, his amber eyes were on Sirius, or maybe they’d been on Sirius the whole time. As he stood, and Marlene said, ‘Hi, how the fuck are ya, we’re Holyhead,’ he ripped the mask from his face.
It was so surreal to look onto this stage, to see Holyhead there, and to see Remus Lupin standing with them, his bass against his hips, his microphone against his lips. Despite that Sirius knew it was him, despite how long he’d known it was him. To see it with his own eyes left him reeling and overwhelmed.
At the same moment that Marlene hit a prolonged chord, Remus started into a singular bassline, watching Sirius with an outlandish smile on his face. This was the smile that had been there the whole time, hidden behind that paper mask. Maybe it was lucky that he’d worn that mask all this time, because if Sirius had seen this smile the first night, that first show, he would’ve tried to take Remus home that very night. Of course, if he had succeeded back then, Remus wouldn’t have stayed, couldn’t have, and Sirius likely wouldn’t have gone to Mass the next morning, and he never would’ve met Father Lupin. And maybe he would’ve never gotten to know the real Remus – the Remus who took in stray teenagers and baked them cinnamon rolls every morning and built his life on a faith that he made entirely his own, a faith so deep and so full, it made other forms of organized religion look glaringly empty in comparison.
When Remus stepped forward, Sirius finally got to see the actual press of his lips to the mic, and he let out an incited breath at the pliable plush of Remus’ lips against unyielding metal. That enduring sigh in Sirius’ chest only grew as Remus started to sing. “I wanna paint it on every wall,” he sang, that smile ever in place as he unashamedly serenaded Sirius in the crowd. “And shout it out up and down the halls.” In the background, Marlene and Dorcas vocalized ‘whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh!’ and they looked as enamored as Sirius was to see Remus playing with such blatant and bared enthusiasm.
“I wanna post it in shining lights,” Remus sang through a playful snarl, his clenched teeth exposed from the emphatic wrinkling of his nose. “’Cause I just can’t keep it bottled up inside!” His voice rose high in both the cadence of the song and in his excitement, and Sirius was enraptured to see the return of that hallmark roll of his hips and the sway of his shoulders as he danced in place, lips tight to the microphone.
“I wanna call up every single person I know, write a song and play it on the radio, stick a message in a bottle and then I’ll let it go,” he sang all in one breath, with that distinctive gasp in his breath-starved throat as he replenished the oxygen in his lungs between lines, and it left Sirius just as flushed as it had the first time he’d heard it. Together, he and Marlene and Dorcas all carried a ‘whoa, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh,’ in the transition, and as Remus looked over at the girls, they all looked absolutely giddy.
“I don’t care what people might think, I’ve got your name in permanent ink,” he continued, delivering an overt wink in Sirius’ direction, lifting his hand for only a second to show the upside down PADFOOT that Sirius had tattooed onto his wrist. “Cause, baby, this ship ain’t never gonna sink.” All at once, the three of them stopped the melody, all of them holding their hands in the air for a moment while they carried on in voice alone with another ‘whoa, oh, oh, whoa, oh,’ before jumping back in. And Sirius couldn’t help but smile, remembering the way they’d done exactly this during that first show, this same synchronized halt to the melody, their hands in the air, singing a song called Dear Your Holiness.
As they moved into the chorus, Remus’ smile grew to depths that Sirius had only seen on very few, very lucky occasions – when Sirius had guessed his name might be Roman, the first time Sirius called him Moony (by accident), when Harry asked if he could get glasses like Father Lupin’s, and now, right now, while Remus was on stage, singing him a pop punk love song. With that smile still in place, Remus continued to proudly sing to him, “So, kiss me like nobody’s watching. Yeah, people are talking,” he pronounced sharply, reminding Sirius of the way Remus was forced out of the church because of people talking, but when he moved into the next line, Sirius grinned wildly. “It doesn’t matter what they say. Just kiss me, in the middle of the street to let the whole world see that there’s nobody else for me.”
In the back, as Marlene and Dorcas sang ‘na, na, na,’ Remus leaned in to let his callused fingertips brush up from the base of Sirius’ throat, all the way along the underside of his chin, and Sirius rose his face to let Remus have his way. It resulted in Remus looking monstrously pleased, biting down onto his tongue with his sharpened canine, with a stimulated rise in his attractively scored brow.
When he moved back to the mic, his voice was a little more breathless, and in turn, it led to Sirius struggling to find his own breath. “People around us are cynical. Go ahead and say that we’re typical,” he crooned, leaning heavily into the mic as Marlene and Dorcas harmonized behind him with ‘whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh!’ With his uniquely amber gaze directed at Sirius, the stage lights changing the color of his eyes ten different shades in an instant, he continued with, “True love is dead? Well, that’s a lie. ‘Cause we’ll be together ‘til the end of time,” and his voice went high and urgent as he watched Sirius watch him.
But if Sirius thought there was implication in this song before, he knew nothing until he heard Remus sing the words, “Now I’m burning up, I’m speaking in tongues,” as Remus winked again, wrinkled his nose again, all reference to Remus’ sordid past as a spiritual leader. “Listen to my heart, it’s beating like a drum, I’m screaming your name at the top of my lungs.” Once more, as Marlene and Dorcas provided the backing vocals, and Remus’ mouth wasn’t occupied, he quickly pulled his bottom lip into his teeth so that he could gaze down at Sirius with want and intent, and Sirius returned that look tenfold.
“I don’t care what people might think, I’ve got your name in permanent ink, ‘cause, baby, this ship ain’t never gonna sink!” At the end of his lyric, he let out a sharp, little ‘woo!’ just like he had at the last show, a verbal expression of his unbridled energy and exhilaration over playing bass as himself.
“So, kiss me,” he hummed contentedly, closing his eyes as he reveled in the expression of those words, “Like nobody’s watching. Yeah, people are talking. Doesn’t matter what they say. Just kiss me,” he said with urgency, and Sirius was ready to obey his commandment. “In the middle of the street, to let the whole world see that there’s nobody else for me.” He held out that note a little longer than the last chorus, as Dorcas and Marlene sang another chorus of ‘na, na, na,’ and, in the space before he had to be back at the mic, Remus danced around the stage, nudging up against Marlene’s shoulder as she laughed into her microphone, and then standing with one foot propped up on the top of Dorcas’ kick drum. With every movement he made, Sirius remembered why he’d immediately fallen in love with him after seeing him on stage – it was because everything he did, he did it with such fondness and devotion and fervour.
As the melody began to slow, Sirius’ smile grew to proportions that his face couldn’t contain, because he knew, he knew, he knew that Remus was going to use the bridge for his own devices, just as he’d done in every single show before this one. And just as Sirius predicted, Remus slung his bass behind his back and knelt in front of Sirius in one, fluid motion as Marlene played a slow, sentimental solo on her guitar, she and Dorcas taking over the repetition of the lyrics as Remus found himself rather busy.
This time, however, it wasn’t Remus who made the first move. Instead, Sirius reached up, in awe at the fact that he could see this face on this stage, that he could reach out and touch those lips without the barrier of a mask in the way. And he did just that, Remus parting his lips to facilitate the movement of Sirius’ affectionate touch. Somewhere in the background, Sirius could hear Marlene and Dorcas singing in harmony, ‘I don’t care what people might think, I’ve got your name in permanent ink,’ and before Sirius could wrap his fingers around Remus’ chin to pull him down, the song came to an abrupt halt.
In that empty space, Remus immediately surged forward and claimed Sirius’ lips in a profoundly impassioned kiss, his fingers curled around the base of Sirius’ skull to pull him that much closer. Suddenly, it was almost like none of the last four months had even happened, because having Remus’ lips to his just then gave him the same jolt down his spine as the first one through the mask, as the near-miss in his mother’s house, as the one in Remus’ flat before the prayer vigil. It left his limbs tingling, his body weightless, his mind empty except for a devoted focus on the taste of Remus Lupin’s lips.
Just as Sirius began to lose himself to the warmth of Remus’ mouth and the lull of his tongue, a sharp clearing of Marlene’s throat shook them from their bliss, though not quite enough for Remus to pull away from Sirius. Instead, he glanced over, one eye open, their lips still firmly locked together.
Marlene clicked her tongue. “Right, yeah, that was the part where you were supposed to come back in,” she said, looking hilariously exasperated as he finally pulled off of Sirius’ mouth with a wince, leaning back in for another quick peck before moving back to his feet and using a single swing of his hips to shift the bass back into his waiting hands. “Let’s just try that again, shall we?” she asked, laughing.
With a nod, Remus shouted out a “One, two, three, four!” some distance away from his mic, and they moved immediately back into the chorus. “Kiss me like nobody’s watching,” he sang, glancing down at Sirius, audibly laughing into his mic at the flushed expression on Sirius’ face, as Remus’ own ears went pink. “Yeah, people are talking. It doesn’t matter what they say. Just kiss me in the middle of the street, to let the whole world see that there’s nobody else for me!” His voice was high and bright, his eyes closed as he moved effortlessly out of one note and slid into the next. “There’s nobody else for me,” he crooned, pushing his lips deeply against the mic so that Sirius could hear the sincerity in his voice, in his confession.
The girls continued closing the song without him as Remus ripped the strap over his head and set his bass down onto the closest stand before hopping down into the crowd next to Sirius. With fire in his impatient movements, he pulled Sirius to his chest and kissed him. Like nobody was watching.
Sirius only pulled away to say, breathlessly, “I guess I was right about that thing I said to James after the very first Holyhead show I ever saw. It looks like it may end up being true.” With a soft furrow in his brow, speckled with greys, just like the hair on his head and the stubble on his face, Remus smiled.
“And what thing was that?” Remus asked, amber eyes glowing behind gold frames.
With a smirk, Sirius replied. “I’m gonna marry that babe on the bass someday.” And Remus just laughed. Loudly. From behind his back, Sirius held out his open palm. Finally, James paid up that ten quid from the bet they made. As it turned out, that bass player from Holyhead was a total smokeshow.