Marauder Ink

by jennandblitz

Summary:

Sirius Black and James Potter are successful and famous tattoo artists. Their manager Lily insists they hire a piercer to cover their busy schedules, and Sirius does not approve of that idea even slightly.

This fic is now completed, but there's still sequel action going on at Marauder Ink 2: Black and Grey

(if you think there's a tag missing/something I've overlooked, please get in touch - either comments or on tumblr (jennandblitz) and I can update things!)

Chapter 1: Canis Major

Sirius Black was in his element. 

He had half a bucket of coffee running through his veins and inspiration flitting across his fingers like a grove of fairies, dancing in stone circles behind his eyelids, playing long lost songs to bewitch him to dance with them, so fast he could barely keep up. One foot tapping to the music pouring through his headphones, his hand flew across the drafting paper to bring to life an idea he and Marlene had been putting together for months, alcohol markers as bright daubs of colour, weaving through the inky scaffolds of the outline, dancing in fairy groves. 

Sure, Sirius had other important things to be working on, like the piece for the client due in at 10am that still needed a touch up, but who was he to argue with his muse? Certainly not he, not at 8:30 in the morning, with only one coffee and two cigarettes behind his teeth. Sirius was nothing if not a slave to his art, and his art was fucking beautiful, if he did say so himself. 

He paused for a moment, wiping the ink from his fingers onto artfully weathered black jeans, before changing the song on the phone sat next to him, grin widening at the driving drumbeat of the next introduction. Sirius couldn’t help but roll his eyes though, at the Instagram comments scrolling onto his phone faster than he could keep up. 

Jesus, they were thirsty even at this time of the morning. He had only posted a quick snap of he and James having a cigarette outside the shop, the lighting was too good to miss, the juxtaposition of James’ bright shirt, the black of Sirius’ leather jacket. Sirius was nothing if not a slave to his art. True, he had cross-posted it to the official Marauder Ink page, tagged his equally talented and stunning best mate and business partner in the post, and true, very true, he did look utterly gorgeous in the filtered sunlight, but still. 

He glanced up a moment later to see James also grinning at his phone further along the length of desk they both sat at, momentarily distracted from the art bursting to life under his hands.

“Alright, Prongs?” Sirius said, shrugging his headphones off of one ear and seeing James do the same.

James threw an eraser with expert precision right at Sirius’ forehead, and he grimaced, snatching it back off the desk, looking back to see his best friend grinning. “You, mate, your Instagram is fucking ridiculous. Not that I mind, honestly, I get about fifty followers every time you tag me, and we get a million bookings, but Jesus wept, Pads, can they slow down a bit?”

Sirius shrugged, firing the eraser back at James with equal precision, snickering when it bounces off his glasses. “What can I say, baby? I just give the fans what they want!”

Seamlessly flipping him the bird, James shifted his headphones back onto his ears and doubled down to make sure the artwork for his first client of the day was no less than perfect. Sirius paused for a moment to consider just how lucky he was that he got to work alongside his best friend day in day out, doing something they both adored. Thirteen year old Sirius would’ve laughed in his face at the idea, he thought he was destined to be the face of some disgusting corporation bound in his blood, but somehow, he had managed to shrug all that off. With a disgustingly happy smile on his face, Sirius carefully filed away the watercolour peacock he was working on for Marlene, after sending her a quick snap on Whatsapp, ready for when she awoken from her slumber, and pulled out his client piece for the day. 

Marauder Ink was successful, James and Sirius worked incredibly hard to get to where they were, and now they only took clients who genuinely interested them, with art they really felt was good enough for them. Sirius’ only client of the day was a few sessions into a beautiful back piece Sirius wished he could paste into a mural, all cherry blossoms, Oni masks and a weaving dragon in beautiful technicolour, it made his artists’ heart weep with excitement. Sirius changed the song on his phone again, ignoring the rising tide of notifications, and settled down to make sure the curve of this cherry tree would look just as perfect as the rest of it. 

 

Maybe an hour later, Sirius glanced up to see his favourite woman in the world stepping through the door with an armful of coffee and bacon sandwiches. Lily shot him a smile, crossing to the desk and setting down the breakfasts before saying something Sirius couldn’t hear over his music. He shrugged a headphone to the side, “What?”

“I said - Jesus - isn’t one of you going to get the phone? For fucks sake, I bet it’s been ringing all morning after your Instagram post! You know you’re better posting when I’m here, I can at least field all the bloody groupies!” Lily was good natured enough as she picked the phone up on her way to greet James with a quick kiss. Lily moved with an endless grace around the shop, it was so clear who wore the trousers out of the three of them. Lily was a flawless manager, everything ran smoothly under her watchful eye and the shop was all the better for it. She answered the phone in the same breath, “Good morning, Marauder Ink, Lily here, how can I help?”

James watched his wife with an ardor he didn’t even try to conceal before he stood to stretch his shoulders. “Isn’t she fucking wonderful?” He muttered to Sirius, earning a quick scowl from the redhead as she flicked through the full diary to try and find a space for whoever was on the other end of the phone. 

“She’ll do, I guess if I can’t have you, she can,” Sirius grinned, mirroring James in a quick stretch of his upper back before moving over to distribute the coffee and sandwiches between the trio.

“Oh Pads, you know you’re the only one for me.” James folded his hands over his heart, and the large tattoo there just visible under his v-neck shirt, in a gesture of love and devotion. Sirius passed him a sandwich and he set about it like a man starved. 

Sirius grinned, the chest piece was his favourite tattoo of James’ by far. The antlers stretched across his pectoral muscles, creeping over his collarbones, bound together over his sternum with paw prints, a wreath of lilies swirling through the antlers like the tinsel through a Christmas tree. Sirius didn’t just love it because he had tattooed it onto him, he loved it because it was a sign of the three of them, their steadfast love. James loved Lily as soon as he knew the meaning of the word, Sirius loved James like the brother he was, bonded closer than blood, and Lily loved Sirius like the sister he needed, like bedrock, grounding and affectionate. 

Sirius thinks of the corresponding tattoo on his own sternum, a snarling black dog with his same grey eyes, the constellation of his name emblazoned on its forehead, and rubs it absent mindedly with the heel of his palm before tucking into a bacon sandwich. 

Sirius’ second favourite tattoos, both of his and James’, were the first tattoos they gave each other during their apprenticeship - wonderful, if a little sketchy, corresponding paw prints and antlers on their biceps. Sirius’ now was surrounded by neo-traditional roses, the sweep of crows wings, but the paw prints still stood pride of place on his arm, James’ handiwork still as beautiful as ever years later. Sirius was lucky as all hell to own a fantastically successful tattoo shop with his brother and sister in law. 

 

Later, Sirius was outside, basking in the afternoon sun with a cigarette between his lips, still feeling damn lucky. He and his client Benjy were outside, taking a break to flex out sore muscles. Sirius looked at the cling film on Benjy’s shoulder with the excitement of a father watching his baby being born, the ink was springing to life on his skin and he was giddy with the idea of seeing at least a section done at the end of the day. Full days were hard work sometimes, his back hurt by the end of it, 8 hours of leaning over a prone body, shoulders hunched, fingers tensed on the housing of the tattoo gun, but it was worth it to see his art spring to life, to see his client so utterly thrilled despite the tiredness wracking both of them. 

Today was one of those days, the knot in his shoulder was back with a vengeance, but it was worth it. Sirius and Benjy were in idle conversation, enjoying the sunlight and cigarettes, watching the busy street in front of them, when two women sauntered up to the shop. Sirius smiled behind his Raybans, ever polite, ever the flirt even if it never lead anywhere, and was rewarded with a smile from the blonde. 

Sometimes, it was a shame Sirius refused to mix business and pleasure. He had done it once before, with a client back when they were apprenticing with Mad-Eye and McGonagall, and it ended badly. So now, he was determined. After all, no one shat where they ate, did they? 

“Think they recognise you, Sirius?” Benjy drawled from behind his cigarette, a sly grin on his face.

“Oh shut up,” Sirius shot back, stubbing his cigarette out on the wall behind them. “I mean, they probably do but that’s not the point. Probably just want a bloody Chinese character tramp stamp.” Sirius pulled a face and moved back towards the shop, “Ready mate?”

Benjy followed with a chuckle, stepping aside to let the two women back out of the shop looking slightly let down. Sirius frowned, they didn’t tend to turn people away without a booking at least. “What was that, Lils?” He asked as the door shut behind them, grey gaze finding Lily behind the desk on her phone. 

“Looking for piercings again. I swear if I could find someone who was trained and not stupid, we’d have no problems.” Lily sighed in exasperation.

“I could’ve done it, if you booked them in,” Sirius sighed, gesturing Benjy back to his room to get comfortable. 

“When, Padfoot? Between your fully booked clients for the next six months?” Lily crossed her arms and levelled him with a look that still made his insides wither. Lily was formidable at the best of times, a sweep of deep red hair, effortlessly put together, a beautiful pearlescent ring hanging from her septum, nails in sharp acrylic points a bright contrast to the plaid shirt tied around her waist. Lily Evans-Potter was bloody stunning and terrifying all at once. 

“Alright, alright,” Sirius gave up, holding his hands up, tattooed palms to the ceiling. “We can discuss it tonight?”

Lily nodded, turning back to the paperwork on the desk as Sirius ducked into his room to continue Benjy’s masterpiece. 

The afternoon was a blur of gorgeous cherry blossoms, the scales of a green dragon whirling over shoulder blades, Sirius’ black-gloved hands working their magic. There was a reason Sirius was famous in certain circles, an ever-growing social media following, artists and connoisseurs alike appreciated the majesty of the artwork Sirius bestowed on canvases of skin. 

Of course, a lot of his social media following was purely aesthetic, Sirius knew that too. His long black hair was pretty en vogue, whether it was tousled around his tattooed shoulders or thrown up in an artful bun, his long porcelain pale limbs painted bright colours, all beautiful artwork he treasured like a well curated gallery. And he was beautiful - Sirius was vain enough to admit that at the drop of a hat - with high aristocratic cheekbones, a knife-like jawline and a sensual mouth always curved into some lurid smirk, a silver ring snug through one side of his nose accentuating the attractive lines of his face. At least he got one thing from his cesspit of a family - damn good genes. 

There was another part of his infamy Sirius was less keen on. The disowned heir to the Black fortune, the high rise offices in London, Shanghai, New York, Paris, the social occasions. Some people actually enjoyed watching Sirius battle with his blood, the occasional spat making its way onto the entertainment news just to be swept away by Orion’s money or Walburga’s hissed threats of secrets exposed. Sirius tried to leave them all well alone, he really did. But there was just one bit of him still tied to that damn legacy and, as much as he tried to summon up the cold heart of his mother, the cool dismissiveness of his father, Sirius couldn’t deny he cared more than he should.

Sirius whistled to himself as Benjy went back through to the main room once they were done, cleaning up his space with the fastidious motions of a perfectionist. He was bringing through a pile of reference material when he found Benjy still stood in reception, with Lily nowhere to be seen. 

“Sorry Benjy, didn’t realise Lily was busy, here.” He set the artwork down and finished up with Benjy, settling his bill with a wad of money thick enough to use as a doorstop and seeing him off with a warm handshake, a reminder of aftercare and a promise of, “See you in two months.”

The shop was blissful and quiet for a time, Sirius busying himself tidying and eventually settling on one of the plush sofas, he would give himself a moment before starting on some more artwork, only another half hour or so until the shop closed and they could make their way home. The whir of James’ tattoo machine sounding from the other room like a lullaby to Sirius’ soul as he scrolled idly through his phone, enjoying the moment of peace. It was broken a moment later when the office door opened and Lily stepped out, the man behind her straightening to a foot taller than the redhead. Sirius glanced up from the coffee he was sipping - left there earlier by James no doubt, with fifteen sugars and a half pint of milk - with ill disguised intrigue. 

“Alright, thanks again Remus. I’ll call you tomorrow, yeah?” Lily smiled warmly and shook the strangers hand. Sirius swallowed behind his coffee as the stranger turned. He didn’t think much of him at first, all judging on appearances because that was just who he was, wondering why the hell some gangly kid was in a high-end tattoo shop like this, in a bloody cable knit jumper of all things, but his mind was changed a moment later. Gangly sweater kid was fucking gorgeous. 

A mop of honeyed auburn curls, shaved into an undercut and peeking out from beneath a forest green beanie hat, broad shoulders underneath the sweater, bright amber eyes looking with warmth at Lily. A mandala pattern of scarred skin was down the side of his face, silvered and old in the practice of scarification Sirius didn’t see much around here but knew a little of online. Another wingspan of scarification spreads the back of his neck, just visible between the hat and the neck of his sweater, slightly pink, almost fluttering with a pulse Sirius imagined hums under his skin. Two titanium bars through one slanted eyebrow, gauges smaller than Sirius’ own glinting in his ears, a black plated ring hugs the middle of his lip amidst equally auburn stubble. Sirius is floored.

The stranger continued as if Sirius isn’t sat there gaping, utterly unaware and smiling warmly at Lily. “Thanks, Lily, look forward to it.” He swept a glance over the shop, barely pausing on Sirius - a sensation he was entirely unaccustomed to, usually people stopped and stared - before walking out of the shop in long, predatory strides that heated Sirius’ blood and he turned to watch, jaw slack until he ducked out of the door.

“Lily. Who the Jesus-fuck-wept was that?” 

Chapter 2: Two Roaring Lions

 

“Honey, we’re home!” 

James’ voice rang through the flat the trio shared, and Sirius grinned as he pulled on his clothes after a shower. “Damn, that smells good. What did you go for in the end?” Sirius dragged a brush through his hair before throwing it into a ponytail, a few wet tendrils escaping that he doesn’t bother to sweep up. 

“Thai, from the place down the road,” Lily offered back. “I fancied Tom Yam! C’mon, we’re not waiting for you to finish getting pretty.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, fastidiously ignoring the fresh itch of healing skin over his lower back as he pulled on a black vest. James had spent the past few evenings finishing his back piece, the two of them staying at the shop until well past dusk, Queen through the shop speakers, smoking with the fire door wide open. It would be Sirius’ turn to tattoo James next week, to work on the thigh piece he had planned, a portrait of Lily surrounded by her namesake. Sirius ribbed him constantly for it, the idea of getting someone so obviously tattooed on him made him feel a little woozy - despite all the tributes to people he had inked on himself - but James had waved him away when they discussed and designed it, he would be with Lily until the very end. 

“Alright, Jesus I’m just getting dressed. Anyone would think you want me naked all the time.” Sirius grinned to himself and shoved a pair of fluffy socks onto his bare feet.

A disgusted noise echoed through the flat that Sirius immediately identifies as Lily. “Pass!”

“Padfoot, stop preening, come and eat!” James called a second later, and Sirius bounded through into the living room to see James putting a record on the player. It had always been the centre of their flat - first at their dorms in Eton, televisions not allowed and the sinuous sound of Bowie on a hand-me-down record echoing through the walls. Then when they first moved, to the flat the trio now called home, they found themselves still longing for the molasses thick sound of records whenever possible, always instead of television or the flat digital of a phone. Perhaps they were hipsters, Sirius thought occasionally when he saw turntables for sale at supermarkets, records touted like CDs, but he didn’t care. The record player reminded him of Eton, of glorious summers at the Potters, the windows thrown wide, ankles in the river, of the giddy excitement of childhood and finally finding a home. 

Lily was piling up containers of takeaway onto the coffee table, and after swallowing down the sound of the record, Sirius grabbed the plates and cutlery. The three of them settled on the sofa, a collection of limbs tucked together with ease.

“So,” Sirius began through a mouthful of green curry, “are you gonna tell me who that tall hunk of a man was yet, Lils?”

Lily swallowed and set her chopsticks down, and Sirius didn’t miss the sly glance she gave to her husband. “Well, I’d like him to be our piercer.”

“What?” The bowl clattered onto the coffee table and Sirius tried not to choke on a mouthful of food. “No way, Lils, we don’t need anyone else. What’s he like? Is he even any good? I mean, he looked like a kid!” 

No way. Marauder Ink had been the three of them since they started, and he couldn’t imagine having anyone else around the shop, besides Peter the accountant, and he only appeared once a month. Sirius only really, truly cared for James and Lily. Perhaps, depending on the day, he would also include his brother in that category, but their relationship was a strange one. He had other friends, of course, people he loved dearly and would defend to the hills. But James and Lily were his ride or die.

He didn’t want anyone else disturbing his precarious peace. Sirius might put on a bravado, and sometimes, he felt it was accurate, but other times, Sirius knew he was moments away from a neurotic mess. And the idea of someone else being in the safe space of the shop set his teeth on edge. He liked change even less than he liked the intrusion of some sweater-wearing boy. He huffed a breath and crossed his arms.

James laughed and clapped a hand onto his knee. “I told you babe! He wouldn’t have any of it.”

Lily rolled her eyes in a well practised motion, and Sirius remembered how scary she was before he got to know her well enough. Hell, even James was scared of her, and Sirius was pretty sure that was half the reason he loved her so dearly. “Padfoot. We have people asking for piercings all the time, it was fine when you two weren’t so busy, but now I’m turning away dozens a week.”

“Just hear her out, Pads. This guy sounds good,” James just missed spraying Lily with Pad Thai and waved his chopsticks around like a weapon. Sirius knew him well enough to dodge the utensils, pin Lily with what he hoped was a stern look and gestured with his spoon for her to carry on.

“He’s good. Really good, trained under Poppy - you know she’s great, right? Alice put me in touch with him, I think they went to school together or something.”

“So?” Sirius didn’t bother trying to hide the petulance in his voice. He pushed his curry away, not even feeling hungry any more. “I like it just being the three of us, Lils. C’mon, Prongs, back me up here. It’s ours!”

James shrugged and shoved a large amount of food into his mouth to avoid answering. Lily snorted at the look of desperation on Sirius’ face. “You were dying to get in his pants a minute ago Padfoot, c’mon.” After a moment, Lily’s expression softened and she leant forward to take both of Sirius’ hands in hers. The pad of her thumb smoothed over the Sink and Swim tattooed onto his fingers. “Pads, darling. Listen, we need a piercer. I hate everyone I’ve interviewed but Remus. He’s really good. And I don’t want to give up the revenue stream of piercings. But I want your approval, okay? He’ll be on a month’s trial, how about that? So we can all get to know him, and then we can reconvene and see?”

Sirius sighed, squeezing Lily’s hands in his. He didn’t like the idea. He didn’t want anyone else in the shop but the three of them, but Lily had a point. It would be selfish of him to refuse, he supposed. It was for the business, and Lily had the best brain for business. He glanced down at the lion roaring on the back of his hand, then at the matching one on James’ hand. They had always done what was best for Marauder Ink, and now shouldn’t be any exception. He could be graceful and see if he at least liked the guy. Lily did have a point. He was drooling over him an hour ago, but the idea had turned sour in his mouth now some sweater-wearing gangly kid was coming into his shop and disrupting things. “Alright. A trial, right?”

Lily shot James a triumphant grin as he stood to change the record. Sirius watched James flip the record and place it back on the deck with practised ease, crossing the room again to sink back into his seat. Lily still held his hands and allowed the moment of pause. “A trial. Deal. I promise you’ll like him. I’ll give you his Insta, then you can stalk him, yeah?”

Oh, okay, that definitely made a difference, Sirius thought drily. He was pretty damn nosy, and getting lost down a social media rabbit hole was a pretty good past time. For a long time, escaping into the mindless scrolling of social media and out of his hell hole of a brain was something Sirius needed. Now, Sirius had an almost love-hate relationship with social media. He couldn’t deny it got the shop quite a few clients, and brought in a fair bit of money. But there was something about the vacuity of it, he hated himself every time he scrolled even deeper, or every time he grinned when he hit a follower milestone. Sirius didn’t think he cared about opinions, but social media brought out the insecure boy who just wanted affection he thought he dealt with a long time ago. He sighed and ate some more curry, chewing thoughtfully. “Alright. Okay… if you think he’s good Lils, that’s got to count for something…”

 

A few hours later found Sirius sprawled in bed, phone precariously dangling over his face, scrolling idly. Lily had indeed directed him towards Remus’ profile, and he was glad for it, the username was something he would’ve never found himself, and made him decidedly proud of SiriusTattoos. Sirius paused for a long time after typing in the name. He couldn’t quite reconcile the feeling of heat when he recalled the way Remus strode from the shop with the sick, acid-burn of his throat at the idea of someone intruding on the trio. But Lily was right - Jesus, he would wear that sentence out eventually - they did need a piercer, and from how she spoke of Remus, he seemed the best for the job. 

Sirius took a deep breath and clicked on his profile - MesserMoony. He was immediately assaulted by images of bared skin - which seemed to flare both the heat in his belly and the acid in his throat - and from the rudimentary piercing knowledge Sirius had, Remus was damn good at his job. The majority of his work were piercings, artful collections around the shell of an ear,  barbells through eyebrows, noses, sensual mouths he paused on for a moment to see if they were the same lips he saw earlier today. Some of the images were of dermal implants, more advanced work, little gems embedded into cheekbones, bars between eyebrows, flashing studs in the dimples of a sun-kissed lower back. Sirius wondered again if any were Remus. 

Other images, far less than the piercings, were of scarification - sacred geometry carved with loving precision into bare flesh or onto the blackness of tattooed skin. Sirius hadn’t seen that much of scarification before and he was utterly entranced. Some of them were swirling things like vines, wrapping around arms or legs, some were at the edges of faces like sideburns or across the forehead. They were either bright red, like the rawness of sunburn and open wounds, or silvered, healed later and shining like the sliver of moonlight Sirius watched on the nights sleep evaded him. 

One particular image made him pause, a pair of forearms, lightly tanned, with pale white-silver scars, geometric tribal lines that spanned the sinew of wrists and crept with surety up the tender skin of the arm, veins weaving through the architecture like the branches or roots of an old tree reclaiming a long abandoned building. There was a scar across one arm, slightly off from the rest, raised and pink as if it wasn’t part of the design, but it didn’t seem to matter, only seemed to add to the majesty of it all. Scars were everywhere. Sirius knew that well enough.

“Alright,” the word hissed out from between his lips. “I’ll give you a chance, Remus.” Curiosity would always bring out the worst in Sirius. He could be nosy, entitled, petulant, but in the same breath loyal as sin to his friends, unfailingly resilient. But he was intrigued, and Sirius was like a dog with a bone, he wouldn’t let go until he found out more about Remus, regardless of whether it was good or bad. Sirius slid his phone onto the dock at his bedside and closed his eyes to slide down the meandering pathway of sleep.

Blackness, at first. The caw of a crow out of the night, then the blinding of the stars in the sky, the constellations shining like the burn of a sudden flash on his eyelids. They lingered, sharp, like after burn, the flash of magnesium phosphate behind a thick black curtain. The crows were there, weaving between the constellations, flapping around his head, claws dragging through his hair, pecking at his bare shoulders, the high points of his face, pulling strips of skin clean off. Sirius tried to bat them away in the darkness, stumbling to land flat on his back. The caws of crows morphed into screams, so close that Sirius flinched, screaming, screaming screaming, the snap of skin on skin, hard packing sounds and the click of heels on parquet flooring. Heavy, rasping breaths, thick with blood, a hand on his arm, clawing, desperate, a stately face out of the darkness, brows knitted, pain-filled, desperate, desperate, desperate, desperate, desperate, desperate, despe-

Sirius jerked awake with a moan some unknown time later, the world feeling as if it were falling away and rushing up to meet him all at once. His throat was sore and the sudden wakefulness tasted heavy in his mouth, tangy like blood soaked cotton wool, the stick of gauze at his lip. Pure terror slammed through his chest, his heart pounded as if the dog at his sternum might come alive and leap to his defence. He stood on shaky legs and trudged towards the kitchen with the ease of one who is both well acquainted with his surroundings and well accustomed to midnight wanderings. The hiss of the tap in the kitchen sounded incredibly loud, his ears pricking, yet Sirius did not hear the footsteps behind him until there was a hand on his shoulder.

“Alright, mate?”

Sirius sank into his brother, head dropping onto his shoulder in a rare moment of unguarded just-awake. “Nightmare.” 

James hummed in response and steadied Sirius with a hand on his side. Affection had never been lacking between the pair, especially not in moments like this. “I heard. It’s alright.”

It’s almost rote at this point, the raw open flesh of midnight inky hours, the rattle in Sirius’ lungs they both pretend they do not hear, the steady stare of James’ hazel eyes, searching behind his glasses into the depths of grey, ignoring the tears swimming along dark lashes. They stand for a long time, waiting until the caw of the crows rescind, and Sirius can crawl back into bed with muttered thanks. The blackness stays black for the rest of the night, but Sirius still drifted with the taste of blood in his mouth.

Notes:

Instagram post from the beginning is something I've whipped up, @SiriusTattoos isn't real sorry to say, but I have a few of his and James' posts waiting in the wings for further chapters. Would you rather them be embedded or links? Also, comments give me life.

Chapter 3: An Unfolding Lotus

 

The following morning, Sirius was regretting his decision to be so gracious and kind and was entirely wishing he could revert to a spoiled brat, throw his toys from the pram and insist Lily phone Remus to cancel. 

But he didn’t. 

Instead, he pushed aside the piece he was working on - it wasn’t going his way anyway - and sat back with a sigh. “I’m going to get coffee. What do you want?”

James didn’t look up from his workstation, fastidiously cleaning after his last client, tongue between his teeth in a signature gesture of concentration. “Hazelnut latte, mate, extra shot of vanilla too, and don’t forget the extra sugars!” 

Sirius rolled his eyes. He often wondered if James made up the most ridiculous sounding coffees just to know Sirius had to order them, and if he was simply too deep in the scam to admit the things had to taste disgusting. He wouldn’t put it past James, anyway. Their pranks at Eton had been legendary, and if it weren’t for the shop necessitating professionalism, the pranks would’ve matured along with them. Days off though? They were anyone’s game, and doubly so for the biannual Marauder Ink parties. 

“Large black coffee, please Pads,” Lily said, sweeping into the main room from the office, her grin brilliant white. She was excited and pleased after getting her way with Sirius about the piercings and had been utterly insufferable all morning. “And could you grab a black tea for Remus? He should be here soon.” 

“Ugh, do I have to?” Sirius shrugged on his leather jacket over the black vest he was already wearing. It was early April, and Sirius couldn’t wait for the warm weather to arrive in full force, if only so he could sling the jacket over one shoulder and show off the ink it usually covered.

“Yes, you do, Sirius-” Ooh, she was definitely serious if she broke out his real name- “be nice. He’s a good guy, alright? And you need to be professional. Go on.” Lily flapped her hands and ushered her brother-in-law out of the shop with a wry smile. 

Sirius strolled down the street in no hurry, enjoying the mild air, the hint of warmth the sun provided every time it peeked through the clouds. Perhaps he could be civil, he thought for a moment. If it were better for the shop, and made James and Lily’s lives easier, he could put aside his distaste at the idea of sharing his friends with anyone else. Well, professionally at least. He didn’t have to be friends with Remus. No matter how much he had initially wanted to climb the guy like a tree and taste the warm metal of his lip ring- No, Padfoot. 

The stern voice in his head sounded remarkably like James. Every so often at Eton, a prank would get slightly too out of hand, or Sirius would get too riled up, desperate for the release of a fistfight and ready to find one at every corner. James, as always, would either talk him down, always in that tone - No, Padfoot - or dive straight in with him if the other party deserved it. Most of the time James thought they didn’t deserve it, but every so often he would agree and emerge from the fray bloodied but exhilarated. Things were a little more settled nowadays. In the week anyway, Saturday nights were always wild, a way to let down their hair as the shop would be closed Sunday and Monday. 

Sirius stepped in the coffee shop with an easy smirk and ordered their coffees, and a tea for Remus. A tea, really, was he a grandad in his tastes as well as his bloody jumpers? Not to mention ordering James’ ridiculous excuse for a coffee. Sirius opened Instagram to quell the agitation bubbling under his skin as he waited for the drinks, noticing with a spur of pride, followed by an odd well of frustration, that his followers were still rising quickly - 181k - and the Marauder Ink page wasn’t far behind. He accepted the carrier full of drinks after a brief flirtation with the barista, and made his way back to the shop, a little quicker now lest everything cool too much in the April air. 

Sirius kept his chin up, only pausing when he was outside the shop. Ugh, Remus was there already, he could see the third body through the window, those golden honey curls catching the light. Damn, he had really wanted to be back before he arrived, if only for some strange territorial reason, to make the other man step into his space. But he supposed it couldn’t be helped now.

Sirius fixed his best smile, disarming, bordering on intimidating, and burst into the shop mid-conversation. “Coffee, everyone!” His grin shining, he crossed to the desk, dishing out coffee to James and Lily. James had a wry grin on his face and eagerly accepted the coffee as well as the extra packets of sugar Sirius threw at him afterwards. His eyes were shining with a mischief Sirius recognised from their schoolboy days and it almost made him mad, why was he grinning like that? Did Remus make him laugh? That was Sirius’ job. 

He slid the large black coffee to Lily, who looked far less amused. She pinned him with a look of Padfoot, I swear, if you are cruel, I will fashion your bollocks into a pair of earrings. Sirius had seen the look often enough, and been on the receiving end of its corresponding sentence enough to hear it in his head. He bowed his head slightly to Lily and turned to Remus.

“Tea, for you, right? I didn’t get milk or sugar. No clue what you liked.” His tone was brusque, and he sat next to James at the desk, one eyebrow quirked. He could hear Lily shift with the urge to tut at him.

He had to admit, Remus was nice to look at, especially head on, as opposed to the profile he glimpsed yesterday. His nose looked as if it might have been broken some time in his youth, there was a large scar at the bridge and it crooked a little. Freckles blurred the edges of the scar and scattered along the tops of his cheeks. A stray one hugged the curve of his top lip, feathering the pink skin there. He had folded himself onto the sofa, all long limbed, drainpipe jeans that scraped his ankles, cuffs of another bloody sweater grazing his knuckles. Remus’ eyes shone with a golden amber in the mid-morning light and he looked at Sirius as if he were looking right through him.

Sirius licked his lips and took a long drink of his sugary flat white. Listen, Sirius, he mentally chided himself, he might be pretty to look at, but he’s here to shake your foundations and mess up the lovely balance the three of you have here, you are not to like him!

Remus raised an eyebrow, the one with the glinting titanium bars adorning its tail. He slid the paper cup into his hands and took a sip before answering. “Mhmm, it’s good how it is.” He watched Sirius carefully for a moment. Sirius stared back like an animal protecting his territory, his heart was beating wildly, as if the dog at his sternum would once again jump to life and defend him. He wondered if Lily had her usual exasperated expression, or if James was running through contingency plans of exactly how to break up an argument. Remus seemed nonplussed. “You must be Sirius.”

Okay, perhaps this would be easier than he thought. 

Sirius was almost used to people not quite knowing how to act around him. It started when he was a child, the heir to a fortune more than most people could comprehend, then, when he came to adulthood, it was being disowned. Then, thankfully swift after that, the relative fame that came from his current profession. Most of his friends were down to earth, but any outside of his immediate circle didn’t quite know what to do around him or James, knowing they had seen interviews online or their faces on the covers of magazines. 

But Remus, apparently, didn’t seem to have the problem most people did. His voice was polite, almost overly so, snippy and tight. He didn’t seem to care one iota that Sirius was practically pacing the edge of his territory, snarling at every unknown scent. He looked comfortable, sounded at ease, and smiled far too easily. Sirius relished for a moment in the idea of making him lose his composure and descend into a fistfight. His smile turned a little stony. “Yep, that’s me. So,” he sat back on the sofa, ankle resting on the other knee, “tell us about yourself, Remus. Lily barely told me anything last night.”

Remus chuckled, ran a hand through his deep honey hair - sans hat this time, Sirius noted with an odd pang of glee - and propped his elbows onto his knees. “Fuck, well, I thought I’d already gotten past the interview.” 

James snorted with laughter, Sirius glaring quick on his heels, and Remus sipped his tea to hide the pleased smile on his lips.

“Padfoot, you have a client here any minute. Go and do something useful, will you?” Lily said with an air of finality, setting down her coffee and scooting her chair back over to the desk. 

Sirius waved a dismissive hand. “Art’s all ready, just need her to be here to size the thing up.” He turned back to Remus with a softer edge to his smile, consciously trying to be a little nicer lest Lily actually geld him. “I like this-” he paused to gesture at the scarred pattern along the join of his ear and jaw- “have you been doing scarring for long?”

Remus responded with a smile bordering on wolfish, his amber eyes catching the glint of sunlight a passing car threw into the shop. “A few years, learnt in Papua New Guinea, been piercing since I was sixteen though.”

Sirius hummed in approval, eyes sweeping over the man in front of him, once again wondering if any of the photographs from Instagram were of Remus, what manner of things he could be hiding under that damn jumper. He shucked off his leather jacket and set it on the arm of the sofa. “Papua New Guinea, huh?”

“Mhmm,” Remus circled the tip of his finger over the edge of his paper cup. “Lived there for a while, only moved back to London last year.” 

Oh, that’s why he’s so deliciously sun-kissed, Sirius thought for a horrible second and narrowly avoided actually pressing the palm of his hand to his forehead. No, Sirius, you are not to like him. He was sarcastic and sharp and definitely not everything Sirius fancied.

Luckily, the universe possibly for once on his side, his client for the afternoon stepped into the shop at that very moment. Sirius leapt up, grateful for the distraction. “Mary!” He cried, setting his coffee down and crossing to hug the woman. Perhaps he was little more pleased to see Peter’s girlfriend than usual, but perhaps, just perhaps, he was trying to make Remus feel a little more like an outsider. “How are you? How’s Pete?”

Mary smiled, slightly shocked at his over-enthusiasm. “Hey Sirius, I’m good. He’s good. I’m a little nervous!”

Sirius draped an arm around her shoulder. “Oh don’t worry Mary, I’ll look after you, c’mon.” He threw a glance over his shoulder to Remus, who was watching with a decidedly detached look and a cool raised eyebrow. 

Once at his station, Sirius was utterly focussed on the job. It was Mary’s first tattoo, and usually Sirius took on bigger projects, but Mary was a friend, and Sirius liked to keep all his circle of friends close. And tall, good looking boys with piercings decidedly out of his circle. 

Mary’s tattoo went well. She sat like a champ for the Winnie the Pooh watercolour inked over her ankle, and nearly burst with excitement when Sirius gently sat her back up to see it in the mirror. She planted a grateful kiss on his cheek and Sirius wrapped it all up, briefing her carefully on aftercare, and that she definitely should call him if she had any concerns or problems. Sirius might be a bleeding-heart artist, he might be Instagram famous and he might be - definitely - a pretty big drama queen, but he did his job right, and every client was as important to him as the last. He was endlessly proud of what they had created here at Marauder Ink and wouldn’t throw it away over anything. 

He accompanied Mary back into the main room, regaling her with tales of their time at Eton, many of which she’d heard second hand from Peter, but Sirius had a flair for the dramatics that just made every story that little more exciting. 

Remus was at the workbench, idly flicking through a portfolio. Sirius wasn’t sure if it is his or James’, but he bristled anyway. The raise of the other man’s eyebrow seemed sinful and judgemental and aggravating all at once and Sirius found it entirely too distracting. He resolutely ignored him and saw to Mary, settling her bill and seeing her off at the door with a kiss on the cheek. He watched Remus for a moment, entranced by the sliver of scar he could see at the back of his neck, and swallowed the suggestion to say something stupid. He had to be civil and nice and mercy, he either wanted to taste that scar tissue under his tongue or scream at him until he’s blue in the face. 

“I like this,” Remus parroted back from their earlier conversation, tapping a page in the portfolio. Sirius crossed to the bench and tried not to stare at the scarring. It was an unfolding lotus, he noted now the distance had closed between them. He wanted to follow the lines of it down beneath that jumper, down the corded muscle of his back to see where it finished, to look for the dimples of his lower back and see if they are as decorated as the rest of him. “I recognise it from somewhere.”

Sirius folded his arms, idly stretching the knot in his shoulder blade. “Mhmm,” his gaze slid up to Remus’ face to try and discern an opinion from his amber eyes. “That’s Lily’s friend Alice, she’s a Lindy Hop dancer.”

“No shit,” Remus shot back, straightening up. Sirius caught a glint of metal at the collar of his sweater that he didn’t see long enough to quite comprehend. It’s pure curiosity, he told himself. He had a professional interest in the quality of his piercings, the quality of the scarification, nothing more. The man was here to mess up his wonderfully balanced and not at all teetering-on-disaster life. “You guys know Alice? Longbottom right, Alice-and-Frank Alice?”

Sirius quirked an eyebrow that suddenly felt horribly inadequate compared to Remus’ and turned to lean his back against the workbench. “Yeah. You’re not a Lindy Hopper, are you?”

Remus snorted with laughter. “No, are you serious?” 

Sirius couldn’t stop the shit-eating grin that slid onto his face at the mention of his name. “Yes, I am Sirius, I thought we covered that.”

“I’m 6’3, I barely have control of my limb-” Remus continued at first, fading off when he realised what Sirius has said. His eyebrows raised higher and he gave a look reminiscent of Lily’s best ball-withering glare. “Fucking really?”

The chime of the door rescued Sirius from a burst of laughter and he took a moment to straighten up and slip back into his businessman persona. A guy and girl stepped into the shop, the door swinging shut behind them. 

“Hi, guys, can I help?”

Remus had stepped back slightly, unsure of his role in the shop after only a few hours, and - Sirius thought with savage hope - not wanting to step on any toes. 

“Oh, hey,” The boy stepped forward and Sirius easily recognised the look of I kind of know you from somewhere but I’m not sure where on his friend’s face. He smiled at her for a moment. “Was just wondering if you have any appointments free for piercings?”

“Sure, you’re in luck,” Sirius hummed jovially, trying to hide his inner fury at Lily Evans-Potter being bloody right all the time. He threw a quick look around to determine the redhead was probably in the office trying to sort things out for the annual birthday party, and stepped aside to allow Remus past.

He watched the taller man’s demeanour change instantly, he straightened up and stepped forward with a smile. “Hey, I’m Remus. C’mon through-” Sirius assumed Lily had shown him the small piercing room and he was all ready to go- “and we can figure out what you’re after.” Remus ducked into the room, leaving the door ajar to allow the heating to circulate properly through all the rooms. Sirius settled at his workbench, putting the portfolio back into its proper place. He thought for a moment about attempting to get a little more of Marlene’s piece done, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to concentrate with the voices floating through from the other room.

“So,” Sirius placed Remus’ accent instantly, an odd mix of his apparent stays abroad and something that might be Gaelic, “what are you looking for?”

The voices parried back and forth, filtering through Sirius’ conscious attempt not to listen and to just get on with his day instead. Remus talked with the ease of someone who knew his craft inside out - he demonstrated different jewellery types, slightly different piercings, different approaches to get the exact result the boy wanted. He checked ID, confirmed aftercare and prices, and Sirius had to admit he was impressed by the way Remus seemed to embody his art. Ugh. The man comes in to ruin my life, at least he could have the common decency to be shit as well. 

The clatter of metal signified that preparation was over, but Remus kept talking, idle chatter to keep the nerves low. Sirius recognised this tactic from his own tool belt, something to keep the first-time sitters sitting still and quiet. He turned in his seat and watched through the crack of the door, the soft light of afternoon filtering through, over the bodies in the room, it felt like the window to another realm. 

Remus tilted the boy’s head to the side, touched the soft skin behind his ear with almost a reverence. He barely noticed the needle sliding through cartilage and was grinning at his friend the whole time, but Sirius wasn’t watching him. Remus’ fingers were expert on the clasp of the ring and Sirius found himself leaning forward to watch with barely hidden curiosity. He gently brushed a strand of the boy’s hair out of the way and slid the needle out, and Sirius felt like he were watching an archaeologist discovering a long-lost burial site, or an archivist handling the only book left in the world. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, throat suddenly dry. Only occasionally, Sirius forgot how watching a tattoo spring alive under his hands was like watching a miracle, like turning water into wine, almost a spiritual experience in the right light, with the right feeling in the air. He wondered absently if Remus had ever felt that way too. 

A cough from beside him brought Sirius back from his foray. Lily was stood beside him, mouth twisting in a smug grin. Her green eyes flickered from Sirius’ engaged posture, chin on his hand, leaning forward, avid like watching his favourite film, to Remus, attentive to his customer, now finishing up. “Alright, Pads?” 

Sirius groaned, flipped her the bird, and turned back to his work. 

Chapter 4: Cityscapes

 

Thankfully, the rest of the week went quite quickly, and before Sirius could blink it was Saturday evening. 

Wednesday and Thursday, James and Sirius stayed late to work on James’ thigh piece. It was almost finished, Lily’s flowing red hair swirling around the stems of the lilies framing her. She looked utterly angelic and James was having a hard time scraping himself off the ceiling about it, but Sirius had to admit it was beautiful. As they sat together in James’ room, fire door wide open, Queen on the speakers, they didn’t talk about Remus so much. James could tell it was a point of contention with his brother, and would rather avoid an argument whilst Sirius was repeatedly stabbing him with a needle. Luckily, Lily didn’t hang around after closing either - Sirius didn’t need her smugness looming over him - she went off at closing to see Marlene and Dorcas and make the finishing touches to the party agenda for May 1^st. Everything was better when it was just Sirius and James, Sirius thought then, watching the miracle of turning water to wine appear on James’ thigh, the comfort and ease of over a decade of friendship. But sadly, the world didn’t exist solely of Sirius and James.

He hadn’t spoken to Remus much between his full schedule, and - much to Sirius’ dismay - Remus was actually pretty busy with piercings. Their conversations were brief. After that strange liminal space of the first day, watching his fingers through a sliver of doorway, the breath almost seizing in his lungs, Sirius decided he would be cordial and nothing more. It seemed Remus had the same idea too, they greeted each other in the morning, nodded politely when neither of them were with clients, but nothing more. 

James, thankfully, could talk for England, and Lily was busy enough organising the party and running the shop to fill any awkward lulls the two men might leave. The only real issue were cigarette breaks, and Sirius had to be vigilant to make sure he only stepped outside when Remus was busy, or when James was free enough to accompany him and make sure they didn’t end up alone.

At closing, Sirius stepped outside to light a cigarette and watched Lily shut off the lights. James and Remus stepped out next, both pulling out cigarettes, James chatting jovially about something ridiculous. Sirius noted Remus smoked roll-ups, and he wondered for a moment if he rolled them with the same reverence he pierced with. Sirius offered James the lighter and stepped aside to let Lily passed. The redhead snuck a drag of her husbands’ cigarette once it was lit and held it between her teeth as she pulled the shutters down.

“Oi!” James muttered behind a grin, retrieving the cigarette back and bending to help her.

Lily straightened a moment later as Sirius was digging in his backpack for his motorcycle keys. “Okay, see you at The Three Sweeps in two hours?” she said brightly, looking past Sirius and James to Remus, who was pulling his denim jacket tighter around his torso.

“Sure,” the taller man intoned back, raising a hand in a wave, “see you then.”

Sirius stared for a moment after Remus’ retreating back, before turning to find Lily and James already halfway down the alley towards the car park. “He’s coming tonight!?” He hissed as he jogged to catch them up. 

Lily tossed a braid over her shoulder without looking back. “Yes, Padfoot, the new guy is having a drink with us.”

James unlocked their car, a little two-seater Fiat he loved dearly, and leant against the bonnet. “I just want to say I had no part in this, although I do have no objections to him coming tonight,” he announced before quickly sliding into the driver’s seat.

Sirius sighed. “Fine, fine.” He swung a leg over the body of his motorbike, flicked away his cigarette butt and unlocked the helmet from its place on the handlebars. “See you at home?”

Lily shook her head and opened the passenger side door of the car. “Yes, fine. Ugh, I don’t see your problem here, Sirius. He’s good, he’s good for the sho-” Sirius cut her off by shoving his helmet onto his head and snapping the visor shut. Lily kept talking but he couldn’t hear a thing over the padding of his helmet, so Sirius shrugged before turning the ignition and watching Lily climb into the car with her signature I’m-frustrated-by-Sirius face. Sirius grinned to himself and started on the drive home. 

The trio only lived maybe a fifteen minute drive from the shop, but even in that short time, the bike seemed to calm him. Everything seemed easier with the wind against his face, the twists and turns of the bike, sinuous and nearly alive beneath him. She was his pride and joy, lovingly restored in the Potters’ garage the summer they were seventeen, and nearly all his self-inflicted paranoias and worries seemed to melt away through a long drive. 

Sirius was the first home, not surprisingly as he had a penchant for ignoring speed limits, and shrugged out of his jacket once through the door. Saturday night might be for drinking and dancing, but food was the first priority. James was a notorious lightweight without something lining his stomach, and Sirius was a pretty good cook.

On the way to the kitchen Sirius slid Electric Warrior onto the record player and cranked the speakers up. By the time Lily and James arrived home, he was halfway through making probably the best burrito bowls in the world, with a jug of margaritas sitting on the coffee table. “Hey,” he called through over Marc Bolan’s dulcet tones - is it strange to dance so soon? - his hips swaying as he stirred a bowl of defrosting chilli. “I know I’m a dick. So there’s margaritas on the table and burrito bowls incoming.”

James peered around the doorway with a wide grin. “Admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery, Pads.” 

Sirius flipped him the bird between chopping avocado, but his grin stayed. He spooned chilli into three bowls as Lily stepped past to retrieve glasses for the margaritas. A few finishing touches found them all on the sofa again, eagerly drinking the rather strong cocktails and tucking into delicious food.

“Seriously, though-” Lily held up a hand to stop Sirius in his tracks before she continued- “he’s a good guy. I know you like it being the three of us, but even the past four days, our revenue has gone up. He’s good, and he’s a laugh.”

Sirius sighed and took an unnecessarily large drink of his margarita. “I guess. I just preferred it when it was the three of us, the shop feels weird now.”

“Well, maybe,” James said around a mouthful before swallowing, “if you actually tried to get on it wouldn’t be weird, Pads.”

Sirius shot back with a smirk and flicked a piece of corn towards James, grinning in delight when it landed in his drink. “Prongs. That’s what I’m doing tonight, isn’t it? I’m gonna get margarita-drunk and make friends.” Sirius pulled a face as his best mate pointedly gulped his drink, stray piece of corn included, free hand scratching his temple with the middle finger. 

Only, he wasn’t sure if he was, going to make friends that was. Sirius just felt on edge around Remus, like standing slightly too close to a speaker in a club, or a fly zapper, like his skin was coming alive and slithering over his bones, like an electrical current through his nervous system. Perhaps it was psychosomatic, his brain really didn’t want to like the guy after he came stomping into Marauder Ink and disrupted Sirius’ life. Although, his inner Lily protested, he really didn’t stomp, he’s been quite gracious in the face of your tantrums, Padfoot. 

A sigh fled Sirius’ lips as he set his empty bowl down and reached forward to top up their drinks. “I’m going for a shower.” 

“Oh, no way,” Lily’s now empty glass clattered onto the coffee table. “I’m going first, last week you took way too long and I barely had time to do anything.” She stood and kissed James briefly, leaning over to kiss Sirius’ cheek too. Sirius made to bat her away, faking annoyance, but he couldn’t hold it for long and eventually leant in to meet her. 

“Oh fine,” he drawled, “it’s a good job I love you.”

James snorted into his drink, already half empty again and nudged Sirius’ knee with his. He gestured with the Playstation controller in one hand and ran the other through his hair, “Drinking Game Fifa whilst we wait?”

 

Just under two hours later found Sirius, James and Lily in an Uber back into the city, pleasantly tipsy. Sirius was in a sleeveless black t-shirt, sinfully skinny black jeans and - of course - his leather jacket. James had scrubbed up fairly well in a black t-shirt that definitely showed off his rugby-honed muscles, and Lily was looking utterly divine in a polka dot playsuit that made her look like a pin-up girl. 

Inside The Three Sweeps, Sirius glanced around, wondering if Remus was the kind to be absurdly punctual, or whether he’d have a moment to relax first. Instead, his gaze found Marlene and Dorcas sat at a large table, coats spread out strategically to stop the incursion of other patrons. 

“I’ll get the round,” Sirius hummed, waving jovially to the pair as Lily and James crossed over to them. He mimed drinking a drink and Marlene nodded, gesturing back with their wine glasses. Sirius turned to the bar and leant casually against it, surveying their favourite pub, the best place to drink before going onto the clubs. It was busy, but not absurdly so, quiet music in the background for the lulls between chatter, comfortable booths and well-priced drinks. Many a Saturday evening and Sunday afternoon had been spent in The Three Sweeps. It didn’t take long to get served, Sirius listing off drinks for the table, and he didn’t notice the body appear next to his until he turned away from the bartender.

It was Remus. Without a sweater this time. And Sirius wasn’t too sure if he preferred this or not. 

His hair was still an artful mess of curls, almost glinting in the low light, and the drainpipe jeans seemed the same ones he was wearing earlier, following the long lines of his limbs down to a pair of brown brogues. But instead of one of his bloody sweaters, Remus was wearing a close-fitted heather grey button down shirt, open at the collar, sleeves rolled to the elbows. Sirius swallowed down his weak spot for forearms, eyes raking over his new co-worker. 

A glimpse of silver-white skin stopped his gaze and Sirius inwardly cursed. So he was on his Instagram, those scarred forearms, the geometric tribal patterns hugging oddly sensual wrists, rising like skyscrapers up the sensitive skin of his inner arms, the ones Sirius had been so fascinated by on his first investigation into the man, they were Remus. He spotted the pink scar, the one that seemed out of place in the photograph, and noted there were a few more similar scars amongst the silver-white. They didn’t quite look like self-harm, but Sirius couldn’t quite place them. He found that he couldn’t seem to care, too entranced by the network of silver covering them instead.

Sirius dragged his gaze upwards, over the physique he hadn’t quite realised Remus had been hiding under cable knit, and found the opening of his shirt. Oh for Christ’s sake, he thought desperately as he noticed the piercing at Remus’ clavicle, a barbell hooked through the skin just beneath the hollow of his throat, glinting in the low light of the pub, and Sirius was struck with the urge to taste it. 

“Hi,” Remus hummed, a bemused smile lifting one side of his face. 

“Oh, fu- hi, hello.” Sirius looked away, pretending for a second to be retrieving a speck of eyeliner from his eye. He took a few calming breaths as the bartender slid the first drink over to him and remembered Lily’s various threats to his appendages if he wasn’t nice. He forced a smile. “What are you drinking?” He motioned to the bar and then with his wallet, “I’m getting the first round.”

“Sure, thanks… just a beer, please.” Remus turned against the bar and Sirius caught sight of the scarification on the back of his neck again, the petals of the lotus just hugging his hairline.

“The others are over there,” Sirius jerked his head in the direction of the rest of the group, knowing Lily, and probably Dorcas, would be watching with a sly smile. 

Remus shrugged and glanced back down to Sirius. “I’ll help you with the drinks. You’ll probably drop them, elsewise.” A slow smirk slid across his lips and he quirked an eyebrow. Sirius was grateful for the two jugs of margarita the trio had made their way through whilst getting ready. 

“Oh, and you’re so in control of your limbs, Mr 6’3?” Sirius shot back, sliding a few of the drinks over the bar for him to carry, before handing over his credit card to the barman. 

Remus laughed, his head tilting back for a moment, and Sirius caught the glint of a tongue piercing behind his white teeth. He simply picked up the drinks and started over towards the table, Sirius following behind him. He wondered afresh what else on his Instagram was Remus, the bar at his throat, the silver-white forearms, was the photograph of the nipple piercing halfway down his feed his as well? Was there any part of him that wasn’t threaded with metal? Sirius shook away the thought as they arrived at the table, and he slid into a seat by Marlene. 

“Alright, Marls, Dorky, how’s things?”

Marlene leant over to retrieve the two large glasses of red wine and kissed Sirius’ cheek on the way. “We’re good. The shelter is going great.” Marlene paused and quirked an eyebrow, wondering if Sirius would introduce his new co-worker to the table, but Sirius took a rather large swig of his Desperados instead.

Dorcas wasn’t so subtle, and leant over. “Hello honey, you must be Remus, Lily mentioned ‘ya. I’m Dorcas, that’s Marlene.” She leant over the table to kiss Remus’ cheek, who grinned back at her.

“Hey, nice to meet you.” Remus said back, and Sirius wondered for a moment why he didn’t sound so smooth when talking to him. Ugh, rude. 

 

“Okay, okay,” Remus drawled an hour or so later, four more beers deep and levelling a look at both James and Sirius. “Where the hell do your nicknames come from. Padfoot and Prongs, really?”

Dorcas groaned into her hand and Marlene slid from her seat to go to the bathrooms - they had heard the answer to that question so many times before. Everyone was pleasantly buzzed and Sirius was reclining in the booth, one ankle resting on the other knee. He raised a deferential hand to James and grinned wryly. James returned his grin and waved his hand like a celebrity being asked a rather benign question on the red carpet. Despite that, he loved telling this story. 

“It’s nothing really. Sirius has these ninja-like skills, the boy could sneak anywhere, into the kitchens right under the Dame’s nose, out into the village, into the Headmaster’s office. So he’s Padfoot, obviously.” James sat forward and folded his arms on the table as if it were the end of the story. Sirius, in all of his drunkenness, was immediately grateful James left out the reason he was so good at being quiet.

“And,” Sirius leant in on one elbow, grinning at James. “Prongsie here got his name because the man’s bedhead is legendary. It literally looks like he has sprouted antlers overnight. It’s actually ridiculous. I worry for Lily’s eyes sometimes, lest they’re poked out by the things.” Sirius brought his hands to the side of his head to simulate antlers for a moment before erupting into laughter. James flipped him the bird, running a hand through his hair. He and Sirius shared a conspiratorial smile, reminiscing like an old married couple thinking back to their first forays into courting. 

“Nevermind the fact she has to see him naked,” Dorcas muttered, earning a guffaw of laughter from both Sirius and Lily. 

Remus watched them for a moment before descending into laughter behind his pint glass. “Really? That’s it?” He managed to grit out between breaths.

Sirius scowled but couldn’t help laughing when James elbowed him in the ribs. “Pads, mate, we thought we were pretty slick, c’mon. Never said they were good names! We watched a lotta old spy movies as kids. Codenames were needed!”

Remus laughed through the last swig of his beer and set the glass down, shaking his head. “You two are something else.”

Sirius brushed the hair from his shoulder, grinning prettily. “Why, thank you.”

“Alright, losers,” Lily drained her glass and stood as Marlene made her way back to the table. “Let’s get out of here, Heaven awaits.”

Marlene leant over Remus to retrieve her denim jacket and fixed him with a look. They had grown kind of close over the past hour in the pub, a fondness for craft beer and mid-90’s ska music had given them plenty to talk about. Marlene was a tomboy by all accounts, all skinny jeans and button down shirts, but beneath that she held a wicked sense of humour and a hip wiggle so fierce Sirius felt intimidated occasionally. “You’re alright with Heaven? You know it’s a gay club, yeah? Just makes it easier for some of us,” she cast a hand about the group, to herself, Dorcas and Sirius. Sirius paused as he was standing from the booth, watching the other mans face carefully for any sign of a reaction, but his expression didn’t change.

Remus adjusted his sleeve in the crook of his elbow and smiled a wolfish smile. “Nah, not even slightly a problem for me, you’re looking at the only gay from the village.” He affected a tight Welsh accent for the last phrase and Marlene snorted in response, clapping him on the shoulder.

Dorcas slid her arm around her girlfriend’s waist and smiled at Remus, “You’ll fit in well around here, honey.”

Sirius stalked past, not bothering to pull his jacket back on, already alcohol-warm, and found James already at the door, lighting two cigarettes and ordering an Uber. He passed one cigarette to Sirius, who usually smoked menthols, but this deep into a boozy night he didn’t care, and took a grateful drag. It wasn’t enough he found the new guy utterly attractive, despite how much he was ruining things, but he had to be queer as well? Now he was actually attainable and it would be 100 times worse for Sirius to drunkenly kiss him. He would have to be even more careful, and vaguely hoped for Remus to have some horrific flaw he was concealing that would make the whole thing easier. He leant against the brick wall outside the pub and watched as Marlene, Dorcas, Lily and Remus emerged. 

“Uber’s on its way,” James said around a drag of his cigarette. 

Lily stole a drag of his cigarette and nuzzled close, resting her cheek on the warmth of James’ chest. Sirius took a drag on his cigarette and realised with the sinking of lead in his stomach, that he and Remus were the single ones of the group. Lily sighed happily, “Heaven awaits.”

Chapter 5: Mandalas

 

Heaven was exactly what Sirius needed. 

Dorcas, with her endless contacts thanks to work, got the group a VIP table and they managed to skip the queue entirely. Once through the door, Sirius was still buzzing from the drinks at the pub, but he could feel it starting to ebb, and had no intention of sobering until at least mid-morning Sunday. The club was lively around them, already pulsing at 11pm, and would probably stay that way until 3am, when Heaven spilled its contents onto the pavement. Sirius was already moving his hips to the music as they weaved through the crowds, smiling at a couple of people he was pretty sure he recognised from somewhere. James and Marlene parted from the group to go and get the next round, whilst the others made their way to the VIP table. It was quiet enough to talk, tucked away in a corner, but with a prime view of the dance floor, the bass of the speakers still shaking the seats. Sirius stood to the side after throwing his jacket onto the pile, already ready to dance. He studiously ignored Lily, Dorcas and Remus, who had slid into the booth and were already deep in conversation about something or other.

When Marlene and James reappeared with trays of drinks, Sirius snatched his, drained the vodka Red Bull in one mouthful and took Marlene by the arm. “Dance?”

Marlene barely had chance to shuck off her jacket, but she grinned nonetheless, following Sirius down the small set of steps to dance to something new and pop-y that he didn’t recognise. It only took a moment for Sirius to lose himself to the beat. He wasn’t the best dancer when the song was post-1989, but he would manage. Marlene was watching him curiously as they danced, but didn’t say anything. She knew him well enough to know he would come out with whatever was bothering him once it was straight in his head, and for things to straighten out he needed to drink and dance. 

They stayed for a few songs, James and Lily appearing next to them when Sia started playing, and eventually they made their way back to the table when something none of them recognised started playing. Sirius wrapped an arm around Marlene and Lily’s shoulders, squeezing them close for a moment and reassuring them just how much he loved them. Lily patted his arm and gave him a knowing look. At the table, Remus was nursing something strong and clear, and chatting animately with Dorcas, who had possibly the most lurid looking cocktail Sirius had ever seen in one manicured hand. 

The thought occurred to Sirius in that moment, that dancing at Heaven was a little like riding his bike. The buzz of it all, the almost white noise in his ears, seemed to just let everything else fade into non-existence. Of course - he thought a moment later - it could just be the vodka. At that, he picked up another vodka Red Bull from the middle of the table - he and James always pooled drinks, God, they really were the married couple weren’t they? - and drank a mouthful. 

Lily gave a happy shriek from next to him and he nearly spat out the all-important mouthful. “Alice and Frank are outside! They finished their competition early!” She texted furiously, straw from her cocktail in the corner of her mouth.

Remus visibly perked up at the mention of their mutual friends. “Oh great, I haven’t seen them since- well… last week, but still.” Dorcas laughed next to him and he leant into her, swigging his drink. Sirius watched, standing next to the table, still writhing with pent up energy. 

James noticed the way Sirius’ knee was jiggling, tapping the buckles of his boots against the leather and grinned up at him, gesturing with his drink. “Down that, Frank and Alice will get here and we’ll all go dance.”

Sirius stilled at once, slinging an arm around James’ shoulder, lifting the glass to his lips and draining it. “Have I ever said I love you, Prongs?”

“I think you might’ve mentioned it occasionally.” James snickered and clinked his glass against Sirius’ before draining it too. “I love you too, you big fucking poof.” He smacked a kiss onto Sirius’ cheek and Lily threw her hands up in his periphery and Sirius found that nothing seemed too important anymore. 

“Moony!” Alice cried, bursting through the crowds and up towards their table with all of her innate grace. Frank was behind her, smiling at the group, and the duo looked as if they had stepped right out of a mod gang from the 50’s. They had clearly come straight from their Lindy Hop competition, where they probably won first place and amazed everyone just because that was who they were. Remus stood up to meet Alice and she threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

“Moony?” Lily questioned, and Sirius remembered the Instagram handle of his new co-worker with a renewed interest.

Remus shrugged, ducking past Alice to warmly shake Frank’s hand. It’s only after that that he turned to Lily. “Just a nickname.”

“Would you rather us call you Moony?” Lily asked between pulls on the straw of her cocktail as Alice and Frank move around to greet the group. Lily was ever-sensitive, listening and receptive, always wanting to make sure everyone was okay and comfortable and happy, and if that meant calling Remus a nickname, then she would do it. Sirius and Alice shared an offhand little hip-wiggle at the thrumming drumbeat of the song playing, but Sirius found he was listening carefully to Remus despite it all.

The taller man shrugged and finished his drink, setting it down with the growing collection of empty glasses on the table. “I don’t mind, everyone tends to.” 

Sirius felt a flare of anger for a moment - they had been working together for four days, and Remus hadn’t thought to tell them of his nickname, or that he preferred it? The taste sat badly in Sirius’ mouth and he seized another drink from the table, taking a large swig. 

Next to him, James recovered quicker and clapped Remus on the shoulder. “Alright then, Moony. Let's dance, shall we? Alice and Frank can show us all up.”

In a moment, the tension was broken and the group all make their way down the small set of steps to the dance floor. James slid past Sirius with a reassuring hand on his shoulder and made his way to the DJ. Sirius watched for a moment before turning back, Lily’s arm around his waist, the two of them happily dancing to Culture Club. 

 

Alice and Frank did, of course, put the rest to shame, somehow managing to move with the grace of dancers despite the odd mix of pop, 80’s cheese and drag queen covers. They cleared a circle to allow the pair to dance, and after some persuasion, both Sirius and Dorcas were being taught how to Lindy Hop to entirely inappropriate music. James and Lily joined in, their own brand of stepping on each other’s toes. Remus and Marlene were bopping to the side, and Sirius found he didn’t particularly care about any of it anymore. 

The song changed then, the final notes of some drag queen single morphing into a guitar riff that Sirius knew deep in his soul. A grin burst onto his face and James clapped his shoulder as the chords of 20^th Century Boy rang through the club. Sirius let go then, let go of all the strange uneasiness bursting between his skin, like the squeeze of a too small jacket, the itch of poison ivy,  the feeling of unsaid words just behind his teeth, and just danced. Arms raised above his head, hips swinging in perfect time to the music, Marc Bolan luring away all of his worries, Sirius moved like his bones were made of music, and really, it was highly probable they were at that moment. Everyone knew this was one of Sirius’ many anthems at the club, and he realised that James had probably requested it to bring his brother out of this ridiculous slump he seemed to be in. Lily and Marlene were dancing next to him, arms slung around his waist, shouting lyrics to each other over the driving guitar chords.

I move like a cat, charge like a ram, sting like a bee, babe I wanna be your man.

Sirius looked up, gaze searching for James to shout a particular lyric - well it’s plain to see, you were meant for me - at his grinning bloody face, but spotted Remus instead, dancing with Alice and Frank with a grace he hadn’t expected of a man so tall. A sliver of lightly tanned skin was exposed under the hem of his shirt, so casual but distracting all at once. Their eyes met for a moment, through the tendrils of hair hanging into Sirius’ eyes, the odd puff of the smoke machine and the bodies of their friends obscuring the way. Remus smiled slowly, almost bordering on flirtatious, pupils wide in the low light and body thrumming inside-out with gin or vodka or whatever he had been steadily putting away since they arrived. Sirius tried not to care, but as the song faded away, he felt the back of his neck prickling with… something.

But then the music continued, the moment broken, Sirius’ attention back to Lily’s arm around him, Dorcas’ excited chatter, and another achingly familiar voice echoed through the club. A whoop of happiness exploded from somewhere and the whole club seemed to stop to sing along with the opening vocals of Freddie Mercury. 

I feel alive, and the world I’ll turn it inside out, yeah, and floating around in ecstasy.

They danced and danced, arms around each other, James throwing a brotherly arm around Remus’ shoulder that should’ve made Sirius explode with jealousy, but he found he was too drunk to care and just continued grinding between Frank and Marlene, any sense of propriety from any of them long gone with the shots Dorcas brought back from the bar. Sirius was drawing looks from other patrons, sometimes quick glances through the throngs of the crowd, other times a little longer, a hand on his hip as he shared an occasional dance with a handsome stranger, fleeting, drawn-out moments, the grind of hips, the brush of fingers and then it’s gone again and Marlene was pulling him back into the group to the thundering bass of another song he didn’t quite recognise. It felt good not to care, to drink and dance and let the music live for him for a moment.

When, finally, the volley of good songs came to an end, replaced by something else he doesn’t recognise, but Lily and Alice squeal excitedly about, Sirius makes the universal coming for a cigarette? gesture to James. James shook his head, chin jutting towards the bar, and Sirius shrugged right back at him. He didn’t mind going off by himself, he’d done it enough times over the years, and he made his way to the front of the club and the smoking area. 

Sirius stopped every so often, greeting someone he recognised, sharing a shot with an old client, a quick shoulder-shimmy to a particularly good line in a song, and wonders idly if he could pull tonight. It doesn’t happen often, Sirius was the kind of emotional that doesn’t deal well with the clear-marked lines of a one night stand, so open with his physical affection, and so often the kind of relationships that start at the club don’t tend to draw out very well in the morning light. But still, the occasional kiss in a dark corner wouldn’t do any harm. Sirius wasn’t sure how long it had been since he left the group, spilling into the smoking area with the stumble of someone only realising quite how drunk they were once the cold air hit. It was busy, chattering groups dotted around, tendrils of sweet smelling smoke rising from vapes or cigarettes. 

Remus was there, Sirius noticed after a second, leant against the wall, one leg bent, knee against the brickwork, halfway through a neatly rolled cigarette. Sirius groaned as he saw him, and would’ve ducked back inside if he weren’t so desperate for a cigarette and imbued with a drunken confidence. Instead, he straightened up, tossed the hair back from his shoulder, lit his cigarette and crossed over to lean against the wall next to Remus. 

“Alright, Moony.” His voice was terse again, slightly slurred but harsh with the honesty that came with copious amounts of alcohol.

Remus snorted and took a long drag on his cigarette. “You don’t call me that.”

“I do now,” Sirius glared back, neatly blowing his smoke to the side. He wondered for a second if he only wished to call him that because he knew it would annoy him, or if there was a moment of wishing he were friends enough with the man to warrant a nickname. But then - as were most things at 2am outside a club - it was probably just the vodka talking. 

Remus made some kind of noncommittal noise and shrugged his shoulders, which for some reason only riled Sirius up even more. He watched the taller man for a moment, the way his amber eyes always seemed to catch whatever light was filtering around them, the slight hunch of his shoulders that came from someone so conscious of their height, the smoke curling up from the corner of his mouth.

“I just don’t like you, Moony,” Sirius said after a moment, voice level, that vodka-openness ringing through his throat as he tilted his head back and watched Remus out of the corner of his eyes. 

“You don’t?” Remus said, one corner of his mouth lifting again. He turned a little, shoulder rolling along the wall to face Sirius more fully. His eyes were dancing in the light again, the silver of the scarred pattern at the side of his jaw almost glowing. The black of his lip ring seems to shift in the dim light.

Sirius glared but it felt like he were looking straight through the man instead. He raised a petulant eyebrow, vaguely aware of the world spinning around him, took a long drag on his cigarette, and blew the smoke directly into Remus’ face in one neat puff. “No.”

Remus quirked an eyebrow in response, jaw falling slack a little, almost tasting the smoke around him, and Sirius thought for a wild heartbeat, the taste of Sirius’ mouth that came with it. He waited a moment, for the soft breeze to carry the smoke between them higher and away into the night. A laugh shuddered from his lips, a low chuckle, and Sirius felt his blood heat like it did when he watched Remus walk from the shop that first day. Sirius blinked with the feel of it, almost torturously slow, waiting for the boiling to subside. When he opened his eyes, Remus had stepped closer, the long fingers of one hand sliding along Sirius’ jaw. He was reverent again, almost, and Sirius thought of the needle sliding into cartilage, expert fingers on the clasp of a barbell. 

Sirius dropped his head back, mouth falling open a little, wondering whether he should push the other man away or pull him in for a searing kiss. The moment seemed to stretch out like the horizon at sea, the blueness of it all joined together, blurred. Remus took a pull on his cigarette, just to the side of his lip ring, and Sirius watched. That slow wolfish smirk returned again, sliding across Remus’ lips as he gently pulled Sirius closer and bent his head down. 

The whirl of smoke left his lips and circled into Sirius’ waiting mouth like a vulture circling prey. Sirius took a shuddering breath in and felt like he might’ve just inhaled part of the other man’s soul. The smoke drifted deeper, spreading out into his veins. It tasted rough, none of the top notes of menthol, the humming intensity of dark tobacco, then the sharp cut of whatever Remus has been drinking all night. Their lips stayed just so, close enough to feel warm breath fluttering through the smoke, far apart enough to be so acutely aware of the fact they weren’t kissing that it bordered on painful. On his out breath, the smoke poured from Sirius’ lips like steam from the mouth of a volcano, swirling, gently threatening to erupt.

Sirius’ head swam with the intensity of it, and he couldn’t quite bring himself to pull away, the world pulsing around them, some sort of liminal space between time, between the rest of the patrons out in the smoking area, grey eyes turning to a neat tunnel vision for the man in front of him. Sirius found his hand gripping Remus’ shoulder, then sliding around to the back of his neck, and oh, he suppressed a shiver at the feeling of slick scar tissue beneath his fingers. His thumb was resting over Remus’ throat and he could feel the pulse hammering underneath it, a strange syncopation to his own heart throbbing in his throat, the off beat to the music spilling from the doorway.

Remus stared back, amber eyes boring into him and turning him boneless and ripping at the festering speck of anger that had been ticking over all night. He looked as drunk as Sirius felt, pupils black and wide like the yawning night sky, and for a brief hazy moment, Sirius looked for the constellations, the sharp cut of the moon, in them. Remus’ free hand held the cigarette to the side of them, the other still holding fast onto Sirius’ jaw.

The soft witching hour breeze eventually took the smoke from between them, pulling tendrils away, unknitting the weave of reality around them, had it been only seconds, or hours? Would their friends be spilling out onto the pavement any moment, wondering where they had been all night? Sirius swallowed and pulled back at the same time Remus released his grasp on him. It felt like they had been pulled into some other world, for a brief respite from the sting of the cool air, the heady fullness of the alcohol buzzing through their veins, the strange surface tension between them. But now they crashed back to Earth with a jolt, and the acid rose in Sirius’ throat. You are not to like him, he thought, was his inner voice as drunk as he was? He is here to shake your foundations, Marauder Ink is meant to be the three of you, not him.

Sirius span back towards the club at the same time Alice poked her head out of the doorway. “Moony! Padfoot! There you are! C’mon, Taylor Swift is playing!” 

She didn’t wait for either of them, but Sirius followed without looking to see if Remus was behind him. Once back inside, James had more drinks waiting for them, and Sirius noted Remus knocking back glasses with renewed fervour with something a little less than indifference. 

 

The dance floor called to Sirius’ blood like the muse to his artists’ soul and he could do nothing but answer. At some point during the night, Sirius found himself dancing with a man, sliding a knee between his thighs and grinning with drunken charm. They found a dark corner and kissed like the world might be ending any moment, pressed together and every time Sirius ran a hand over bared skin, he found himself startled by the absence of scar tissue. 

When 3am hit, Sirius was back dancing between Lily and Frank, Remus only a body away on his other side, but Sirius wasn’t thinking about that, the taste of his smoke long gone. The lights came up and Sirius stumbled outside with James, Dorcas still happily singing the last song as their soundtrack through the crowd. The group staggered from the club and separated into groups for the taxi rank. Goodbyes were hurried as Marlene and Dorcas grabbed the first taxi, quick drunken kisses on cheeks or loose hugs. Sirius, James and Lily waited, chatting away drunkenly, Frank, Alice and Remus a step behind them.

As James pushed Sirius into a taxi with a friendly clap on the back, climbing after him with all the grace of a drunken stag, the trio didn’t notice Remus throw a punch at some stranger, barely restrained by Frank’s firm grip on his arm. Alice, after only a moment to recover, took his other arm and they pulled him towards the waiting taxi as if this happened every Saturday night. 

Chapter 6: Sink or Swim

 

Tuesday morning rolled around far too quickly for Sirius’ liking. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to jump right back into his life’s calling, but his two days off a week seemed much more important now he had the added stress of Remus being in the shop. Not to mention their strange moment in the smoking area of Heaven. Sirius absolutely did not think about that moment, what it might’ve meant had the smoke not dissipated so quickly, and he absolutely did not remember the way Remus’ hand felt at his jaw, or the scar tissue under his fingertips. 

Sunday was a write-off, the trio only moved to their beds when the sun was rising, James and Sirius in a drunkenly heated discussion about the lyrical merits of Bowie’s Blackstar with Lily dozing between them on the sofa. Sirius surfaced some time in the afternoon at the smell of bacon, and found James, miraculously unharmed, already in his rugby kit for his practice. Sirius begged off practice that evening, usually he went if their hangovers weren’t too bad, but that Sunday he could barely stand up without the need to vomit. So Lily and Sirius saw James off from the window - whilst really keeping an eye out for their pizza delivery - and settled in to watch Fight Club for the night. 

Monday wasn’t a huge waste, the hangover didn’t stay around, and Sirius went into the city to do some idle window shopping before going to meet Marlene and Dorcas at their work. They ran a queer charity space, somewhere between a hostel, gathering space and support group and it was pretty damn successful. At the Marauder Ink parties twice a year, there were often raffles or auctions to benefit the charity, and the place was close to Sirius’ heart. So he spent Monday afternoon in the common room of the place, sitting with a few teenagers, chatting, playing video games and sporting various Snapchat filters with one of the girl’s young children. Perhaps, from the outside, it might’ve looked like Sirius was hanging around the shelter just for appearances sake, to get something to put on Instagram or on the off chance some two-bit entertainment reporter would notice and put him in the news. But Sirius knew what it was like to have nowhere to run, to be judged on decisions out of your hands, to feel like the whole world was out to get you. And it wasn’t like spending time playing video games with grateful teenagers was a real drain on Sirius’ resources. So every opportunity he took, he was with Marlene and Dorcas, making sure the kids knew it got better, eventually.

But still, as time had the audacity to keep on its slow inexorable roll forward, Tuesday morning came. James did the breakfast run that morning, toeing that fine line between the chain-smoking drunk that Sirius saw every Saturday, and the rugby player eating his weight in spinach out of guilt on Sunday, and brought green smoothies for the four of them, as much as Sirius pleaded with his brother to have pity. It didn’t work, and Sirius was reluctantly sucking on the straw of his smoothie when Remus stepped into the shop at 9:30. 

James, always heedless of any awkwardness and ready to offer a grin, clapped Remus on the shoulder in greeting. “Alright mate, hangover wasn’t too bad on Sunday eh?”

Remus shrugged, “Not so bad.” Sirius wondered if he saw a pang of regret across his features. James gestured with the fourth green smoothie and Remus lifted one eyebrow in response, but took it anyway.

“Ugh, Jesus,” he spat a moment later, swallowing the aftertaste of kale Sirius felt linger on his own tongue.

“You can call me James,” was the response a moment later, a bright grin on his face. James sat heavily in his seat at the workbench and Sirius found he couldn’t quite take his eyes off of Remus. So much for ignoring their strange moment at Heaven - Sirius could taste the smoke of Remus’ cigarette on his tongue and remembered the way his pulse hammered under Sirius’ thumb. 

Remus just grinned in response to James’ quip and jutted his chin - Sirius caught the glint of metal at his throat again - towards the artwork James is bringing to life under his skilled fingers. “What’s that?”

Sirius sat his smoothie on the bench and unlocked his phone with an idle thumbprint - he didn’t have any artwork to finish up before his first client today. Instagram was blowing up again that morning anyway, and the endless scroll of comments and likes from a retroactively posted selfie at Marlene’s place went a long way to distract him from the bubbling feeling in his throat. It felt halfway between shoving Remus out of the door and telling him to just fuck off, and grabbing him by the shoulders and insisting he talk to him instead, why wasn’t he asking what Sirius was working on? Why wasn’t he mentioning that they nearly kissed on Saturday?

James was explaining the precise reason for the use of an equilateral triangle in a particular tribal piece when Sirius re-emerged from Instagram, and he immediately wanted to punch the look of avid interest off of Remus’ face. 

“Hey Prongs,” Sirius interrupted after a moment, hitting James on the upper arm to gain his attention. “You got a free five minutes to touch up my fingers?” 

James jerked from the conversation with Remus, the link between the two brothers strong enough to pull James up from the seabed, it seemed, and Sirius swallowed down a fierce burst of pride. He felt like a child for a heartbeat, hoarding his toys and wanting to play with them all at once simply to spite the other child. But James just smiled his inane grin, ran a hand through his hair and pushed away his drafting paper, “Sure, Pads.”

To his utter dismay, Remus and James continued their discussion of the uses of equilateral triangles in fucking tribal work whilst James set up his machine and Sirius settled cross legged on the bench. He was used to their mutual tattoo sessions being late at night, when the shop was empty and they could throw open the fire door to smoke as they did, but it was nearly opening time and the fire door stayed firmly shut. Sirius tried to studiously ignore Remus at the doorway, leaning casually against the frame and continuing about fucking equilateral triangles and their cultural significance in the ritual tattoos of Polynesian tribes. Sirius wanted to scream, but instead he pulled up the album du jour on his phone and played it loudly enough to drown out any conversation, in theory.

James was leaning over Sirius’ proffered hand, the needle finding the odd spaces between tendons and nerves over the W in Swim, and Jesus, he really could talk for England, it seemed, despite the music, about fucking equilateral triangles. Remus offered the counterpoint to each argument, seemingly endless knowledge about all kinds of 2D shapes and their place in societies halfway around the world and true, Sirius knew a lot about the cultures that birthed tattoos and he too could talk a lot on the societal significance of coming-of-age tattoos in the Maori tribes but, Christ, they were triangles! 

“Jesus wept!” Sirius exploded as James moved from one hand to the other, Remus mid-sentence. Perhaps they had moved on to bloody Isosceles triangles at this point but he couldn’t fucking care less. 

James, never even slightly perturbed by Sirius’ temper tantrums, simply lifted his head from concentrating at Sirius’ fingers, and fixed him with a look he must’ve learnt from Lily. Remus shut up fast from the doorway, arms crossed over his middle in some semblance of protection. Sirius saw the hurt look flash across his face that Remus recovered quickly before he straightened against the door a little.

“Sorry,” Sirius gritted out, raising his free hand in a way of apology. “Just, Christ, I get it, triangles, right?”

James snorted and shook his head, bending once again to focus on Sirius’ fingers, but Remus quirked another of his sinful, should-be-outlawed eyebrows and Sirius felt the anger bubble in his throat like acid again. 

Who was this man!? Who was he to come in here and disrupt Sirius’ carefully constructed peace with his two best friends, where he could step through the shop doors and not have to worry or feel obligated to a single fucking thing? Who was he to grab Sirius in the smoking area of Heaven, look at him like he actually meant something, curl his cigarette smoke into Sirius’ mouth like a scene from some teenage romance, accosted by the bad boy in the alley besides the pub? Because Sirius was the bad boy, he was the one with the leather jacket and the motorcycle, not Remus! Not Remus, hiding that body under cable knit sweaters, with silver-white scars leading to tantalising places and the prospect of glittering metal threading through all those unseen angles and planes!

Sirius glared right back at Remus, grey eyes so filled with vitriol that Remus took a step back, that eyebrow quirked in a silent challenge sinking slightly, and Sirius cast an eye around to look for something to hurl at him. 

Instead, James sat back, the sudden absence of the hum of the tattoo machine cutting through Sirius’ insides, and wiped his knuckles. “Here, done. Grumpy,” he quipped, already starting to wipe down his station for his first real client as Sirius flipped him the bird with his freshly touched-up fingers. James gave as good as he got, nudging his glasses up onto his nose with his middle finger as he moved around the chair. Sirius crossed to snatch a jar of ointment from the countertop, and was starting to apply it to his other hand when he noticed Remus still stood in the doorway. Sirius glared anew, shrugging one shoulder in a gesture of What!? and Remus took the cue to step back into the main area, out of sight. 

Sirius felt a pang of guilt rush through his stomach, on the heels of remembering the taste of Remus’ cigarette on his tongue, and slammed the ointment back onto the counter. A string of expletives left his mouth before he pushed open the fire door and lit up a cigarette. James left him to it, preparing his station for the first client, but the sounds of him pottering around on the other side of the fire door were oddly calming. He only had a few moments to push aside his own personal neuroses - God knows he was skilled at that - before his first client arrived, and Sirius furiously chain-smoked his minutes away before the chime of the door sounded through the main room.

 

Three hours later, Sirius felt thoroughly rejuvenated, as he tended to do after any extended period immersed in his art. He took a moment to snap a photograph of the Bowie portrait he had lovingly inked into Pandora’s arm, immensely proud that she would come to him for his well-known affinity with the White Duke, Ziggy Stardust and Aladdin Sane, before wrapping it up and sending her on her way. Sirius felt the thrum of satisfaction under his collarbone, like the dog at his chest is rumbling with praise, and emerged from his room with a grin infinitely wider than when he stepped through the door hours earlier.

James and Remus were gathered around the workbench - probably still discussing sodding triangles, Sirius thought with a huff - and he was about to say some frighteningly witty putdown before Lily Evans-Potter stamped into the room with all the savagery of a Category 5 hurricane. Sirius was sure James’ hair ruffled like he was stood in said hurricane, and even Remus, who had become infamous in the last week for his foul language, raised a surprised eyebrow at the colourful words springing from the redhead’s mouth. 

“They bailed on me! The bastards!” Lily fumed, throwing a pile of papers into the recycling bin at the bench before throwing her hands up in annoyance. “Two weeks before the fucking party and those arseholes say they can’t make it?! What the fuck are we meant to do now? We have a whole two hour set to try and fill and two weeks to confirm it! Fucking bastards, cowardly little shitbag, I’m going to kill him when I see him next!”

James recovered from a moment of bewilderment and swallowed down a bite of his sandwich. “Fletch’s band? For the party?”

“Yes, Fletch’s band, for the party, Potter!” Lily threw herself into a seat and made a violent exasperated noise that Sirius didn’t expect to come from such a petite woman. He slid onto the sofa, resolutely apart from James and Remus, figuring it would be better to let Lily rant rather than trying to stop her.

He watched out of the corner of his eye, surprised that Remus seemed a little more subdued than usual. Perhaps Sirius’ vitriol this morning had actually got to him, managed to break through some of that cool, detached veneer the other man seemed to have. That wasn’t the effect Sirius intended to have though, he wanted to have a screaming match. He didn’t want to see Remus shying away from conversation or huddling into the corner. He wanted a confrontation, or for things to go back to normal, or he wanted him out of the shop. He wanted to square up to him after that moment outside Heaven and decide whether he wanted to fuck him through the wall or put his head through it instead.

“I know a band…” Remus’ voice startled Sirius out of his fantasy of trying to decide which one he would prefer. He still hadn’t come to decision and figured he might have to do some semblance of both to work it out.

“You do?” Lily stopped her rant mid-sentence and paused to look at Remus, who had a soft smile back on his face. He shrugged one shoulder slightly in response, and Sirius wondered if he was purposefully avoiding the piercing looks of the two tattoo artists.

“Yeah, my flatmates, Gid, Fab and Doc,” Remus was still ignoring Sirius, no matter how hard he glared, and was staring resolutely at Lily instead. “They’re a sort of rock and roll, blues, punk, country music trio, really good. I reckon they’d be free. I played them on Friday afternoon actually, when I had the speakers.”

“Really, Moony? They were good!” James sputtered through another bite of his sandwich, looking to Lily for confirmation. “That’s great!” 

Oh, Sirius thought again, the tiny voice of his Black-gene hatred springing forth, so not only is he good at his job, he’s contributing to the parties now too? But Lily looked so relieved that Sirius tamped down on the fleck of anger in his stomach and remembered that they were all doing this for the good of Marauder Ink. He had to put aside his own personal problems and be civil to Remus. He had to put aside his occasional, difficult-to-ignore need to climb Remus like a tree, because fucking a colleague had never gone well in the history of ever, and just do his job.

That didn’t mean it would be easy though. Sirius threw Remus a dirty look, hoping he was glancing the right way to catch it, and ducked outside for another cigarette, finding his fingers were shaking just a little on the wheel of his lighter. He definitely wasn’t known for his maturity and ability to put his emotions aside, but he could see how that would be much better for the shop than a temper tantrum. As much as he did want to cause a fuss and make Remus leave, he knew that was more than a little stupid. Sirius sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face, not caring for the smudge of kohl that might be lining his eyelashes. When he had smoked his cigarette down to the filter, he flicked it into the road and stepped back inside the shop. The main room was empty, Lily probably in the office trying to sort things, James getting ready for his next client.

The world apology wasn’t in Sirius’ vocabulary, not in earnest anyway, but he found the kernel of guilt in his stomach was still resting there like lead. He knew he had a problem controlling his emotions - he could thank Walburga for that - and he had been really rude to his co-worker that morning. Even despite their strange moment at Heaven - which he was absolutely not thinking about - Sirius knew he had been stupid. They were both drunk as skunks on Saturday anyway, who was to say Remus even remembered what had transpired between them. It was no big deal, after all, it wasn’t like they had fucked in the alley outside, or fallen into bed with each other in some drink-fuelled sex party. No, they had just shared a cigarette… an extremely sexually tense cigarette, but that was it. Maybe Moony shared cigarettes with all his friends like that. 

Sirius ignored how much that thought made his insides clench and thought about some way he could fix the chasm of acidity between them. He thought of the feeling of miracles, watching a tattoo come to life, the spiritual experience, turning water into wine. He thought of the look of reverence on Remus’ face when he was piercing. Perhaps he could give Remus that. He thought of a needle sliding into cartilage and the taste of foreign cigarette smoke on his tongue. He slid a few notes from his wallet and folded them into his hand, ignoring how white his knuckles were.

Sirius padded to the doorway of the piercing room, found Remus leaning over a small tray, sorting jewellery into piles, and paused for a moment to watch the play of light across the planes of his face. Sirius knocked lightly on the doorframe and watched with a torrent of emotions when Remus jerked in surprise, and then his face fell into something along the lines of indifference. “Yes, Sirius?”

“Hey, Moony.” Sirius ignored the strange look that passed over Remus’ face at the nickname. “Wondered if I could ply your trade?” He brushed a strand of hair away from his neck and tapped the shell of his ear. “Been thinking of a new piercing for a while… £30 right?”

Remus sighed and continued sorting the piles of barbells. It felt like an hour passed by Sirius before Remus pushed the tray away and looked at him. “Put your money away, Sirius.”

Sirius couldn’t contain the grin that spilled onto his face as he stepped over the threshold and hopped up onto the bed. He thought he imagined the beginnings of a smile curling the corners of Remus’ mouth, but he took satisfaction in it anyway. Sirius watched as he pulled on a pair of gloves and scooted his chair back over to the bed. 

“So, what did you want?” Remus’ voice was low and soft, only meant for Sirius in this moment and it thrilled his insides to hear it. He definitely wasn’t imagining the heat in Remus’ eyes from this close.

Sirius cleared his throat and tilted his head to the side, gesturing to a curl of cartilage on his left ear. “Just here, I think. With a ring?”

Remus just nodded and set about his job. Sirius saw the flicker of metal at his collar again, the allure of the hollow of his throat only amplified by the bar there. Sirius licked his lips as if they were some poor man’s excuse for Remus’ throat. Remus’ eyes flickered over him with no attempt to hide their gaze, pausing at his mouth, then his throat and the wings of the hawk tattooed there, down the deep neckline of his shirt, barely even covering his chest at this point, over the sharp angles of his collarbones. Sirius wondered again if the black dog at his sternum might leap from his skin to defend him - if he even wanted it to. 

Remus stepped closer and Sirius’ breath hitched at the wings of the hawk. The pressure of his thigh against Sirius’ burnt through his jeans like a hot iron and he almost flinched. Sirius found himself tilting his head to the side to give the other man more room, feeling like he was baring his throat to some half-tamed animal. Remus’ hot breath hit his neck as he cleaned the area, skilled fingers dancing back and forth, and all Sirius could do was stare at the closeness of him. At the flecks of golden green in his eyes, the curve of the scar across the bridge of his nose, the snugness of the ring around the centre of his bottom lip.

The slide of the needle felt like a searing kiss against the shell of his ear, the lash of a hot tongue and Sirius hissed at the pain and the sheer proximity of Remus to his own body. Sirius’ hands gripped the edge of the bed to stop him from just grabbing the other man, and he held his breath as Remus fixed the ring into his ear. 

“What’s it like?” The words slipped out of his lips, eyes flickering all over Remus’ face. Sirius wasn’t sure if he was asking how the piercing looked, or how Remus felt to be this close to him, feeling like a modern-day miracle worker with a needle in his hands. If he felt the same rush of elation Sirius did when he stepped back to see his work for the first time, like coming out of a trance, a vision quest to another world.

“It’s good.” An answer that wasn’t directed to either question, maybe Remus was still on the edges of his vision quest, the lines of reality swaying. Remus smiled that slow wolfish smile again and stepped back slightly, and Sirius realised the distance between them had closed beyond professional. He lifted a hand, tipped in chipped black nail polish, to gingerly touch the site of the new piercing, all hot with the thrumming of blood so close to the surface. 

Remus’ fingers slid around his wrist to stop him halfway. “Don’t touch it, leave it to settle for a while.”

Sirius stilled, eyebrows slightly lifted, jaw slightly lax, grey eyes bright in the overhead lights, realising his other hand was still biting into the edge of the table, and let out a long, low breath. Remus’ eyelids flickered, his face slightly above Sirius’. He imagined that flicker was the result of his breath hitting the other mans’ throat. His fingers were still circling around Sirius’ wrists, his slightly tanned fingers, the sharp white of scars over his knuckles a bright contrast against Sirius’ painted ivory skin. Another moment passed and Remus stepped back, straightening up. The room shifted around them again, back to professional, but Sirius just smiled softly.

“Thanks, Moony.”

“You’re welcome, Padfoot.”

Chapter 7: Ziggy Stardust

 

April 28th was a very important date in the Evans-Potter-Black household - Sirius’ choice of name, not James or Lily’s - and that was the only reason Sirius was at the shop at 9am struggling with several bags and a precariously balanced cake box on one arm. 

There were very few reasons Sirius would be out of bed earlier than absolutely necessary at all, especially with no client artwork to finish before his first appointment. But James Potter and Lily Evans-Potter were that reason. And the 28th of April was their wedding anniversary. 

Three years ago the trio had stumbled into the nearest registry office, Lily in a white lace dress from the back of her wardrobe, James in the only suit he owned, leftover from their Eton graduation, Sirius in a black shirt and the least-ripped pair of jeans he could find from the floor, drunk with excitement. It could’ve been called slightly premature, only 21 years old, Marauder Ink about to open its doors, no real assurance the three of them would ever go anywhere, but Lily and James had been talking about marriage since they fell in love at 17. True, James had said he loved her for longer than that, but Sirius could see that it was an entirely different kind of love once Lily had smiled back and finally agreed to go and see How to Train Your Dragon in the sad little cinema in town. 

James hadn’t even proposed to Lily. As far as Sirius knew, they’d woken up one morning and decided they would quite like to make the whole thing legal. They had been joined at the hip since 17 anyway, thankfully not James’ other hip that Sirius had been joined to since 11. If Sirius didn’t love them both so dearly he would’ve disliked Lily for taking away his best friend, but as things stood, the three of them were as thick as thieves and had fallen into a comfortable balancing act. 

It was Sirius’ best memory, tears running freely down his face when James and Lily looked at each other like the rest of the world didn’t matter and said their vows in the quiet of the registry office with him as their only witness. They hadn’t bothered with rings, just stumbled back to Marauder Ink with a drunken giddiness that only came with sheer elation, where Sirius had tattooed their initials on each others’ fingers. It was the first tattoo Sirius had done in their own shop, and it seemed entirely symbolic. Sirius had cried the whole day and, as much as he wanted to deny it, the copious photographs on the trios’ phones said otherwise. 

That weekend, after a blissfully successful first week at Marauder, the three of them riding the high of love, Lily and James looking at their hands at every opportunity, Euphemia and Fleamont had thrown a big party. Everyone who even knew who they were were invited, the garden seemed bigger than ever, filled to the brim with people, the drink was free flowing, the twilight stretching on and on. 

Before then Sirius had hated big parties, a relic of his childhood, forced into starchy formal clothes and made to smile and shake hands, listen to bigotry and expletives he was too young to understand. He used to prefer quiet tables in the pub, or drunken but casual gatherings in the dorm rooms at Eton. 

But James and Lily’s wedding party was the best night of his life, and in the aftermath the next morning, waking up from where he had slept on the lake edge to find the newlyweds emerging from the house, they had decided to throw a party every year. It would be a joint celebration, to celebrate their wedding anniversary and the opening of Marauder Ink all at once.

The party wasn’t for another two days, but the morning of April 28th, the registry office fresh in his mind, Sirius set about decorating the shop. He had done it for the last three years too, but this year was going to be bigger and better, and he imagined next year would be even better than that. Sirius set about blowing up the balloons, no mean feat with his smokers’ lungs, but it would have to be accomplished. Rugby training had to count for something, didn’t it?

At 9:45 Sirius was standing precariously on one end of the sofa, trying to pin a banner above the frame of a mirror. The door chimed behind him and he nearly fell from his perch, waving his arms madly to try and regain his balance. “Prongs, Lils! You’re not meant to be here ye- Oh.” Sirius grinned, happy, for once, that it wasn’t James and Lily walking through the door. “Morning Moony, alright?”

Remus set down his bag and stared at the decorations with a mixture of awe and confusion. “Padfoot… what in the living hell are you doing?”

Sirius near fell from the arm of the sofa, a smile on his face that he hoped made it look more like a graceful jump. “It’s April 28^th.” Then, at the look on Remus’ face, he elaborated. “It’s James and Lily’s wedding anniversary, so I’m decorating before they get here.”

Remus smiled softly and shrugged off his denim jacket, crossing to hang it on the rack in the office. “And neither of them are here yet?” It was unusual for both of them to be absent at this time, with only 15 minutes until they opened.

“I snuck in and changed James’ alarm clock last night,” Sirius uttered with a look of pride, puffing his chest out as if looking for some sort of approval.

“You…” Remus grinned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course you did, Sirius.”

“Not enough for them to be late! Just so they’re perfectly on time.” Sirius laughed and kicked a balloon out of his path to climb back onto the sofa again, giving the banner above it another attempt. “They’re probably on their way just now.”

Remus laughed, a noise somewhere between musical and croaky, thick still with the morning and the cigarette that he probably stubbed out on the doorjamb on his way in. Sirius glanced in the mirror and saw the other man watching him with amusement. 

“You’ll top yourself climbing like that, Pads. Here, you finish everything else, I’ll hang the banners. I’m taller than you.”

Sirius pouted but stepped back off the sofa. “Fine.”

Things hadn’t been so awkward since the week after Heaven. Their moment of altered reality whilst Remus pierced Sirius’ ear seemed to break something between them. They were cordial now, friendly almost, happy to exchange in banter. A strange understanding flickered between them, a knowledge of something fiery bubbling up under the skin, the whisper of reverent miracles between them. They didn’t talk about that Saturday night, Sirius assumed Remus must’ve either not remembered it, or chosen to ignore it. And that was fine by Sirius - he had decided to carry on like normal, as normal as he got anyway. It was an unspoken agreement between them to either be the bigger man, or revert to children and pretend their problems didn’t exist. 

Thankfully, last Saturday Remus had been absent from their weekly drinking, watching Frank and Alice at another competition apparently. Luckily for Sirius, that meant he could get completely wasted and not worry about anything but beating James at Fastest Shots in the Three Sweeps, or out-dancing Marlene to I Want to Break Free.

Sirius didn’t seek out Remus to spend time with him alone beyond the odd moments of a cigarette break when James had already gone inside, and Remus did the same. But perhaps that wasn’t because of a dislike for the man, but the burgeoning of something entirely opposite instead. Either way, it wasn’t awkward anymore, and Sirius pretended not to notice how relieved James and Lily were at this development.

So, with Hunky Dory playing through the shop speakers, Sirius set about hanging the rest of the banners at a more reasonable height, unboxing the cake and finishing the rest of the balloons whilst Remus hung the taller banners. Sirius turned from his last balloon to see Remus stretching up, another sliver of perpetually tanned skin bared across his lower back, a tantalising banner for how good his arse looked in those jeans. 

“Okay, alright, favourite Bowie persona?” Remus hummed, unaware of Sirius’ staring, his shirt hitching up a fraction more to expose another scar. But this one was red and irritated, twisting and puckered, disappearing below the waistband of his jeans to the side of his hip. That one was definitely not scarification. But then what was it? Sirius glanced in the mirror again, to Remus’ face, the scar on the bridge of his nose, the ones on his forearms, also pink and angry, beneath the patterns.

“Huh?” Sirius jerked, turning to fuss with the jug of flowers on the workbench. 

“Favourite Bowie persona,” Remus repeated, softer than Sirius expected, no hint of exasperation in his voice. Sirius leant against the workbench to watch him under the pretence of the conversation. 

“Oh, hm, that’s a hard one.” Sirius felt like he might burst, discussing one of his favourite subjects with this man, looking at him like it was actually interesting to hear Sirius talk about Bowie, or the final days of Freddie Mercury as if they were gospel. True, James knew Sirius’ opinions inside out after 13 years of friendship, but talking to someone new was exciting. “It depends, if you mean music, or looks?” Sirius paused to shoot a grin at Remus, who inclined his head to indicate he should carry on. “Well, if it’s music, then it has to be Aladdin Sane… I suppose… if I’m in a good mood. Hunky Dory for early mornings, Ziggy Stardust if I’m drunk… Station to Station if I’m really, really drunk. Diamond Dogs reminds me of the summer we left Eton…”

Remus laughed and stepped from the sofa, coming to lean against the workbench next to Sirius. “That’s a lot of them, Pads.”

Sirius shrugged, a wave of inky hair falling from his shoulders where he hadn’t bothered to tie it up yet today. “Okay, okay. I don’t know if I can choose a favourite era for music, but looks-wise, it’s easy.” Remus crooked an eyebrow to urge him onwards. “It’s Ziggy Stardust. That man was my sexual awakening at 14. Him and Marc Bolan. I discovered my cousin’s old record collection and realised I’d quite like to do a number of things to someone who looked like either of them.” Sirius grinned a lascivious grin.

Remus chuckled again, a sound Sirius wasn’t sure he would ever get bored of. “If we’re talking sexual awakenings, then it’s got to be Bowie in Labyrinth hasn’t it? That bulge?” 

Sirius laughed then too, head thrown back, barking sharp laughter, the obnoxious kind he’d started affecting purely to annoy his parents, but now it had stuck around. “If we’re talking films, then, Legolas? Or Prince! God, he’s sexy, that purple suit!”

“John Travolta, in Grease.” Remus grinned, clutching onto the workbench now between his bouts of laughter. 

“Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing!” Sirius felt like he might just float off if he wasn’t holding on either. It wasn’t that he didn’t get a chance to talk about hot guys with James and Lily, well, James would look amused and Lily would talk, but it just wasn’t the same as talking to someone who understood. Not to mention Remus looked like the sun personified when he laughed, tongue piercing clicking against his teeth, curls falling across his face.

“Okay, here’s two weird ones,” Remus wheezed between laughter, sobering a little at the prospect of potentially embarrassing honesty. “Tyler Durden, and Dr Frank-N-Furter.”

Sirius stopped dead, eyes widening. “My two favourite films.”

“No shit!” Remus hummed back, voice soft between them, head tilted slightly to look down at Sirius. “I love those two.”

“Yeah… I - uh, dressed up as Frank a few Halloween’s ago.” Sirius didn’t quite want to break their eye contact to find the photographs from the party, but it seemed important in the moment somehow. 

“Yeah?” Remus’ answer was more a breath than a word, and Sirius glanced away before he did something he would regret.

“Yeah…” Sirius snatched his phone from the workbench and flicked through the photo album. “Although, for balance, I gotta talk about the ladies too. Michelle Pfeiffer as Catwoman, Sarah Michelle Gellar in Cruel Intentions, Sarah Connor from Terminator 2.” He held up a hand to count off his few female crushes as he scrolled back to last Halloween on his phone. He glanced up at Remus to find the other man watching him with a strange expression. “I’m pan, so, whoever floats the boat really.”

Remus chuckled, nudging closer so he could see Sirius’ phone when the pictures were found. “Ah, I see.” He shrugged back and the warm smile on his face only grew. Sirius, ever thankful for his circle of friends, didn’t encounter much hatred for his sexuality. He didn’t make a big deal of it in social media and tended not to be into PDA anyway, but he was glad to see Remus didn’t have a problem either.

“Oh, here, here.” Sirius held his phone out to Remus, flicking through a few photos from the official photographer of the Halloween party two years ago. Sirius had really gone all out, curled his hair, worn a corset, fishnets and high heels, Lily had done his makeup, and he had to admit, he looked pretty damn hot as a Sweet Transvestite. Of course, the photographs had been in the ridiculous entertainment news for a few days after, and Walburga had broken her record of ignoring Sirius to try and rip him a new one. But Sirius just blocked her number, and thankfully, none of his darling family knew their current address. Walburga seemed to be the only one with the real problem though, as the rest of the people he spoke to at the party or afterwards definitely appreciated the costume.

But none of that seemed to matter, as Sirius watched Remus flick through the photographs. It was a good evening - Lily had been Poison Ivy, and James had been Batman, which was an absolute mistake in hindsight. A few weeks later Sirius had stumbled into the flat to Lily and James amidst some torrid sex game involving James wearing the mask and not much else. Sirius still saw it occasionally when he closed his eyes.

Sirius shook his head to dislodge the horrific thoughts of sexy-Batman James and noticed the pink blush that had settled across Remus’ nose. “That’s a good look, Pads.” He handed the phone back and Sirius set it back on the workbench.

“Thanks,” Sirius shrugged, well versed in taking compliments, but they didn’t usually have this effect on him. Sirius swallowed and glanced at his shoes, rapidly searching his brain for something to say. “The Halloween party is my favourite.”

“Yeah?” Remus pushed a hand through his curls. “I haven’t been to a Halloween party since school.”

“That’s a shame. I love it. I already have this years outfit planned.” 

“Not Frank again?”

“Nope! This year is a secret.” Sirius grinned, almost giddy again. It turned out Moony was quite fun to be around once in a while. Their relationship was still awkward, constructed entirely on cigarette breaks and the anchoring banter of James Potter between them. But that morning it didn’t seem too bad. They had found some kind of equal ground, a moment of reconciliation over childhood crushes and David Bowie. “What will you go as?”

Remus seemed surprised at the idea of being invited to the Marauder Halloween party, and perhaps Sirius would’ve balked at that two weeks ago, but he had seen the paperwork and ledgers Lily had presented last week. They were making the best money yet, and barely anyone had been turned away. Not to mention Lily had berated him almost every night after the awkwardness of the post-Heaven encounters between the two, until Sirius had straightened up - so to speak - and behaved as best he could.

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t really dress up.”

Sirius grinned, pushing the hair back from his shoulder. “You’ve got to dress up! We’ll think of something, Moony, I’m sure.”

A flicker of something passed across Remus’ face and one shoulder lifted slightly in some half attempt at a shrug. Hunky Dory switched on Sirius’ phone and was replaced with the opening notes of Aladdin Sane. Sirius remembered he’d cited that album as his happy one when they talked about Bowie. Was he happy enough to warrant it just now? Sometimes happiness seemed very far away from Sirius. In the nights where the crows were especially loud in his ears, the screams of his nightmares clinging when he stepped into the shower and wondered how the world was still spinning. But that morning, James and Lily’s wedding fresh in his mind, the shop decorated, laughing with someone he might even consider a friend, it seemed a lot closer. Sirius sighed happily.

“How’s the piercing?” Remus murmured, turning so his hip was pressed into the workbench, facing Sirius. Sirius watched as he ducked a little closer, felt his warm breath on his bare shoulder, all at once cursing and praising the warm weather for his bare shoulders in the first place. Sirius found himself tilting his chin up, subconsciously baring his throat. They hadn’t been this close together since that night at Heaven, Sirius had studiously refused to think about it, but now it was here and he couldn’t step away. He didn’t think he wanted to.

“It feels okay,” He breathed, raising one hand to touch gingerly at the area. “Mind taking a look at it for me to make sure?”

Remus chuckled a little, but stepped closer all the same. Sirius felt his body heat even through that cable knit jumper and wondered how he hadn’t completely overheated yet. He turned slightly to give the other man better access, stomach clenching as Remus pressed even closer, his hip leaning against Sirius’ stomach. Sirius let his eyes flutter shut and prayed to the Gods of Sexual Tension that he wouldn’t get a boner right now. 

Even Remus’ fingers felt hot against his ear. Sirius was trying desperately not to notice how the neck of his jumper had slipped to the side a little, exposing one collarbone and the glint of metal at his throat again. He tilted his head slightly, so close he could just pop up onto his tiptoes and press their mouths together. 

“Hold still, Pads,” Remus murmured, his voice right next to Sirius’ ear. The noise Sirius made in response was definitely nothing close to a whimper, but he could almost feel Remus smile next to him. He shifted a little, despite Remus’ words, or possibly because of them, torn between moving away to prevent any more embarrassing bodily changes, or just pulling Remus against him and rutting like the animal part of his brain was desperate for. In response, Remus’ free hand went to his bicep, holding him there whilst he fiddled with the piercing. His touch on bare skin seemed utterly searing and Sirius felt a wave of desire rush through him. They were so close, all he needed to do was step forward a fraction, or hop up onto the workbench and pull Remus between his legs. 

“Sorry Moony…” Sirius breathed back, eyes flickering again as another wave of hot air hit the sensitive spot just below his ear. His hand came up of its own accord, fastening onto the curve of Remus’ waist, the muscle surprisingly taut beneath all that sweater. Sirius thought once again of his Instagram profile, the studded lower back dimples, hoping they were his. 

Remus stilled slightly under his hand, and his fingers withdrew from Sirius’ ear for a moment, until they trailed lightly down the side of his neck. Sirius shuddered anew and tightened the hand on Remus’ waist. Remus seemed all at once too close and too far away. His breath hit Sirius’ ear again. “Looks good, it’s healing fine...”

Sirius bit his lip so hard he was surprised he didn’t taste blood, and took another shuddering breath in before leaning back on his free hand to try and look at Remus better. For a moment all he saw were amber eyes, flecked with gold in the morning light, and pupils he once again tried to look for the stars in. “Remus…”

The chime of the door had Sirius jump like a greyhound out of the starting block. He shoved Remus back and grabbed the bag of confetti from the workbench next to him. 

Lily and James were stood in the doorway, Lily with a wry smile on her face, and James looking around in awe at the decorations. Sirius sprang over to them, ignoring how red his face must’ve been and how his legs felt like jelly, and threw a handful of confetti over the pair. Behind him Remus must have grabbed the other confetti packet because another handful landed over them. 

“Happy Anniversary!”

Lily laughed and made no attempt of brushing the confetti from her hair or shoulders. “You go overboard every year, Pads!”

James stepped past his wife to pull Sirius into a bruising hug. “This is amazing, mate.” He stepped past and looked to Remus, whose apparent awful throwing had landed some confetti in his own hair. Sirius nearly keeled over with the urge to brush it out of the curls. “And he roped you into this too, Moony? Well decorated though, you two make a good team.”

Remus shrugged and leant back against the workbench again. Sirius suppressed the urge to bend him over it. “I came in and found him about to fall to his death trying to hang the banners, so it was a matter of principle, really.”

Lily crossed her arms and glanced around the room. “As lovely as this is, Padfoot, I imagine you were the reason James’ alarm didn’t go off this morning?”

Sirius grinned and tactically put the desk between himself and the redhead. “Possibly. I wanted to get the shop just right…” Lily groaned and smacked Sirius around the arm, earning a yelp. “You weren’t late! I wouldn’t have let you be late! Or if James had a client first thing!”

James emerged from the kitchen in the back, still covered in confetti. “It’s a good job you have occasional moments of thoughtfulness, Pads.” He brandished a large knife and crossed to the desk, where a decadent looking chocolate cake sat in its box from the bakery three doors down. “Cake for breakfast?”

Remus grinned. “I think I might start to like this place.”

Notes:

thank you SO much to everyone who has read, commented, subscribed, kudos'd and bookmarked! I love you all very dearly and it genuinely makes me want to burst with excitement that you all love this as much as I do!

Edit (31/03/2019): YOU GUYS. dazedandinked on tumblr illustrated a moment from this chapter, and I am IN LOVE. Their tattoos and piercings are absolutely on point, look at my babies!
Check it out here!

Chapter 8: A Murder of Crows

Notes:

darlings, trigger warnings in this chapter, discussions of child abuse and drug abuse. it's mainly alluded to, but tread carefully during the phone conversation if that's not good for you! Also a safe bet here on out that if Sirius is dreaming, or talking about the Blacks in any way, it's going to be a bit rough!

 

It was late in the afternoon before Lily managed to corner Sirius alone. James was with a client, as was Remus, and Sirius had tried to duck out the fire door for a cigarette without the redhead noticing him, but alas, nothing at Marauder Ink escaped Lily Evans-Potter.

“So,” she started, leaning over to steal the cigarette from Sirius’ fingers after he had lit it. “You and Remus.”

Sirius quirked an eyebrow and tried to hide the blush he could feel creeping up his neck. “What about me and Remus?”

Lily handed the cigarette back with another one of her signature ball-withering looks. “James didn’t see you two spring apart this morning because he has the observation skills of a boulder, but I did.”

Sirius ran a hand through his hair, pulling it out of the bun he threw it in before his client earlier. He felt like he could still feel Remus’ fingers on his neck, his breath on his face. Tattooing had put him in that liminal space again but now he was out of it and back in the fresh air, it was impossible to forget. What was he meant to do? He didn’t really like the guy, he still felt like he was entirely intruding on the trio, but there was no denying the sexual tension between them, the way Sirius felt whenever Remus was within arms reach. “I don’t know, Lils.”

Lily smiled slightly and leant against the wall. “So, I was right. There’s something between you? Just…” Lily bit her lip and thought for a moment. Sirius was struck by that - he had never thought his words over once in his life, and yet it felt like Lily chose every word carefully, and he was incredibly grateful for it. “Just make sure that you can still keep things professional… You know you always come first, and if it came down to bad blood between you, he would go, but… I really wouldn’t want that.”

Sirius closed his eyes and slid down the wall to a crouch. He sighed heavily, stubbed out his cigarette and lit up another one.  “I wouldn’t want that either, trust me.” Another long drag on his cigarette. “I don’t know if there is anything. We just have these moments… then I blink and it’s gone and… yeah, I dunno. I won’t do anything about it.” He sighed heavily. “You’re right, things have got to be professional.”

Lily stood peering down at Sirius for a moment before crouching down next to him and laying a hand on his knee. “True… but I also want you to be happy, Padfoot. I mean,” she leant forward and Sirius held the cigarette out for her. She took a puff without removing it from his fingers, “how long has it been since you really fancied someone?”

That was a point. Sirius had a tendency to get wrapped up in work and not do anything outside of it, and now that Lily had pointed it out, it had been over a year since he was in a relationship. True, he had made out with a few pretty strangers at clubs, but nothing beyond that. But did he want to be in a relationship with Remus? Or was he just attracted to the guy? Maybe he could just go for it and take him to bed, and see what happened. If it turned out to be a no-strings attached night of glorious sex, then great. But that left a bad taste in Sirius’ mouth. For someone so physically affectionate, it was hard for him to really separate sex and emotion, and maybe sleeping with Remus would make the whole thing a million times worse.

And you’re assuming he actually wants to sleep with you, Pads, his sensible voice popped up, and that was true too. 

“I dunno, Lils. I don’t even know if I fancy him or not.”

Lily raised an eyebrow as Sirius sucked on his cigarette like it held all the answers to his problems. “From the way you both were this morning I’d say you do, Pads.”

Sirius shoved her lightly. “Oh piss off, Evans.” Lily grinned, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, and planted a big kiss on his cheek.

“Oi, oi, what’s going on here?” James stepped out of the fire door before turning to Sirius and Lily with an appalled look on his face.

“Prongs, mate,” Sirius said, face dropping into mock sincerity, “we didn’t want you to find out this way.” He and Lily shared a solemn look before bursting into peals of laughter, James on their heels a moment later. 

James offered a hand to Lily, who took it and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Now my dreams have come true,” he said with a lewd wink to Sirius over Lily’s shoulder. “The three of us can just live in poly-harmony.”

Lily pulled back from James and made a disgusted noise at the same time Sirius sprang from his crouch to mime being violently sick. 

“No way, Prongs. She’s basically my sister!”

“I love you Sirius, but I’m not going anywhere near you like that.”

“Whose going near who?” Remus stepped out into the afternoon sun next to James, already fumbling in his pocket for his cigarettes. 

“Well, I just discovered Lily and Pads’ secret affair, so now I’m trying to convince them we can all live together in some beautiful polyamorous mass of limbs.” James grinned brightly at Remus, and Sirius could see the laughter threatening to peek at the sides of his mouth. 

To his credit, Remus just raised an eyebrow. 

Sirius, who could feel the tips of his ears going red, chose to put him out of his misery. “He’s joking.” Sirius pointed a stern look at James, who was still grinning inanely. “Or at least, I hope he is.”

“I am, I guess. I can only dream.” James snickered and stubbed out his cigarette. 

Lily sighed in relief and brushed her hair back from her shoulders. “Well, that’s good. You dream on buddy.” She smiled brightly between the three boys before looking back to her husband. “James, will you give me a hand looking through the entertainment contracts for Saturday?”

“Sure babe.” James intoned, stepping to the side to allow Lily to go before him. As she passed, the redhead shot Sirius a sly look. Now or never, it seemed to say. Sirius widened his eyes in protest, but before he could do anything James and Lily had disappeared into the office.

Remus neatly blew his smoke to one side and leant against the wall. “So…” He drew another lungful of smoke from his cigarette, “now we’ve established you’re not in a poly with James and Lily…” he blew another ring of smoke out to the side of them and stepped closer again. “Want to go for a drink after work? Lily and James are going out for a meal, aren’t they?”

Sirius jerked back a little, gaze flying up to meet Remus’ amber eyes. He saw a heat there he recognised from the club, from their moment earlier that morning. He was smiling that wolfish smile and Sirius caught the glimpse of metal at his throat again. 

Would it be so bad? Could he just go for a drink with the man, stumble home and have some mind-numbingly good sex? But then, wouldn’t it be awkward the day after? Both of them still in the shop, having to work around each other? And if it wasn’t sex, then it was a relationship, and that seemed even more terriying. Because a relationship meant the possibility of getting hurt, the possibility of opening up, the possibility of it all going wrong despite the mind-numbingly good sex. 

Lily was right, they’d still have to work together, and even if it did end badly - because Sirius had a wonderful track record with all kinds of relationships besides James and Lily - then he wouldn’t want to lose Remus in the shop. He was incredibly good for Marauder Ink, their takings were shooting up and the shop was busier than ever. And above all, Sirius’ loyalties lay with Marauder, all the time, effort, energy and money he, James and Lily had put into it. He couldn’t let anything get in the way of Marauder being successful. 

“Sirius?” Remus’ voice was carefully schooled, slightly concerned but still casual, and Sirius entirely avoided meeting his eyes.

Sirius scrubbed a hand through his hair. “No… sorry, I’ve got things to finish off for the party, I better not…” He stubbed out his second cigarette and stepped past Remus back through the fire door. 

Neither option was viable, even if he wanted glorious casual sex and exploring all the various places Remus was pierced, he’d end up getting attached, and that wouldn’t help anything. And if Remus got attached too then it would turn into a relationship, which would inevitably come to an end and then Marauder would be worse off.

Sirius sighed heavily, trudging back through towards his room to prepare for his last client of the day. Lily stuck her head out of the office with a bright look on her face. She quirked an eyebrow - Well? Sirius just shook his head, wondering why he felt so sad about it all, and ducked into his room.

 

10pm found Sirius a few measures deep into a bottle of whiskey, a four cheese pizza demolished, and completely regretting his life choices. He sighed and sat forward to pour another slug of whiskey into his mug. He did have some things to run through for the party, true, but they had taken only half an hour at the most, and now he was left wallowing whilst James and Lily were out for their anniversary dinner. 

And he definitely wasn’t endlessly scrolling through Remus’ Instagram, trying to dechiper which various body parts were his and which weren’t. At any given minute he was either completely enthralled or disgusted by himself. God, he couldn’t just be okay with no-strings sex for once and go and have a good time? He probably could go and have a good time, but then afterwards he would just wish he knew the guy a little better, knew what he liked. True, he knew how Remus took his tea now, that he grew up in a small Welsh village and left to go travelling and learn his trade when he was 18. Okay, so maybe he knew him quite well, well enough to warrant a date, better than he knew the last guy he was in a relationship with before they started dating, but that had ended badly. 

But then, what did Remus want? If he wanted no-strings sex - he hadn’t mentioned any previous relationships and had shut down any conversations the four of them had in the shop - then Sirius wouldn’t deal with that very well. He wanted strings-sex, with all the loving little moments in between. But then, if Remus wanted that too… Perhaps it would be glorious for a time, maybe a few weeks, a few months, but then it would come crashing down. 

Sirius groaned, finished the rest of his whiskey mug and stood up. It really wasn’t like him to drink on a work night, not when he had a client first thing the next morning. But it was only a few measures, and he felt like he needed it after today - his nerves were entirely frayed. He wouldn’t be hungover in the morning anyway, their endless Saturdays at Heaven had seen to that, nevermind the drunken dorm rooms at Eton. 

Snatching a piece of note paper from the kitchen table, Sirius scrawled a quick note to James and Lily. 

Darlings, I have gone to bed and allowed you free roam of the flat on this special night. I have headphones. Go mad. Just not on the kitchen table? I gotta eat there, capische? Love you both xxx PS. We all know Prongs will be thinking of our polyamorous mass of limbs. Just to put that idea in your head too, Lils.

Sirius chuckled to himself and stuck the note to the mirror in the hallway, obvious enough the pair had to see it when they came stumbling in, and sequestered himself in his bedroom. He crawled into bed and tried not to think about how tonight might’ve ended differently had his brain not been stupid. 

Or maybe not, maybe Sirius was only picking up on the wrong signals from Remus and he really just wanted to be friends. Christ, if that was the case then Sirius was even more of a collosal prick. The new guy just wanted to go for a friendly drink and Sirius brushed him off like an utter cock and ignored him all afternoon. Sirius grumbled and scrubbed a hand over his face before sticking his headphones on and playing Station to Station, loudly. He’d said to Remus that morning that Station to Station was for really drunk Sirius, and although that wasn’t the case right now, he felt he just needed the strangeness of it all to balance him. Knowing Bowie lived purely on cocaine, adrenaline, milk and peppers whilst recording this God of an album made everything seem a little more manageable.

So Sirius was understandably frustrated when his phone started ringing, cutting off his music. He presumed it was James or Lily, half-cut and finding everything hilarious, asking for a favour, but when he picked up his phone his stomach dropped. 

Regulus Black. 

Usually Sirius didn’t answer him under any circumstances, but perhaps the combination of whiskey, pizza, Bowie and despair had lowered his barriers.

“What?”

“Hello to you too, Sirius. It’s been months, how have you been? Haven’t seen you in the papers recently.”

Sirius rolled his eyes and fought the urge to hang up. “You haven’t been looking at the right papers then, have you? What do you want, Reggie? Unless Wally has died then I don’t care.”

Regulus tutted and Sirius could practically hear the annoyance radiating through the phone. “Our mother is alive and well, Sirius, don’t call her that.”

“She’s not my mother,” Sirius shot back. “She stopped being my mother when she started calling me a class traitor, repeatedly telling me to kill myself and manipulating me into taking cocaine at 16.” He took a breath to wash away the coldness setting into his veins. “Same way Orion stopped being my father when he beat me unconscious with that fire poker at 14, Regulus. Did you forget? They might still be your parents, fuck knows why, but they aren’t mine.”

Regulus audibly swallowed and Sirius tasted the acid in his own throat. “Sirius, you know I-”

“No, you don’t, Reg. You were always their favourite,” Sirius sighed and flopped back onto his bed. And Sirius still cared for Regulus. Even after he stood by at every beating, hiding in the corner and pretending not to see, or refusing to run away with Sirius that night at the Christmas party. He had begged and begged for his little brother to come away with him, so he didn’t have to be left in that godforsaken house by himself, so that he didn’t end up precisely where Sirius was terrified he would. 

“If you didn’t antagonise them so much, then maybe things would be easier Sirius!”

“Antagonise them? What, by doing what I want to do? Letting them beat me senseless? Putting up with her screaming at me, telling me I’m worthless and I’ll never amount to anything? Persuing my own dreams instead of running that corrupted piece of shit they call a company? How’s it going, Reg? How many civilians have your black market arms killed this week? Or have you lost count? How many pounds of cocaine are in London right now because Black Enterprises turn a blind eye? I’m not doing that.”

Sirius wondered if Regulus still got that twitchy nerve in his temple whenever he got annoyed. If he did, it would be twitching right now. “I’m here because it’s my duty Sirius. I owe it to our parents, they brought us up. It’s family, Sirius, I have to.”

“Not my family, Reg, Wally and Orion didn’t bring me up.”

“I don’t want to argue with you, brother.”

Sirius almost spat out You’re not my brother, but for some reason the words stuck on his tongue. Regulus was his brother. They were bound in a way he wasn’t to Walburga and Orion. He still felt some stupid sense of protectiveness over his younger brother, despite all the choices Regulus had made as a young man, all the choices Sirius wanted to punch him for. Instead he picked something else to go for. “How high are you right now?”

Regulus sighed and for a terrifying moment Sirius heard Orion on the other end of the phone. He nearly threw it away out of instinct and had to take several calming breaths before the blood stopped ringing in his ears. He felt the smack of the fire poker on the back of his thighs, Walburga’s nails digging into his shoulder, the caw of the crows from his nightmares. Regulus carried on, utterly unaware of Sirius’ heart in his mouth. “I was phoning to see if you got the invite I sent you. Lunch on Sunday, charity event for Giving Back. I had to send it to that ghastly shop of yours seeing as you won’t give me your home address.”

Sirius scoffed and managed to draw his consciousness back to the present, away from all the horrors of his childhood. “Oh, that was what that was? I recognised your handwriting and threw it in the bin. And no, I won’t come. I do my own charity work, and you know all the money from that shitty excuse for a charity goes straight to warlords with human teeth necklaces?”

Regulus sighed. “It would be nice to have you back.”

“Regulus. What part of they are not my family any more don’t you understand? The only reason my surname isn’t Potter is because it annoys Orion so much.”

Regulus sighed again, a long drawn out thing that made him sound older than 22 and much more tired than a moment ago. Sirius swallowed and his heart ached in his throat. He remembered the one time he hadn’t been able to draw Orions’ ire away from his brother - the last time the two of them had conducted a boyhood prank together - and Regulus had come out with a black eye. 12 year old Sirius had simmered and nearly boiled over with rage and swore that he would never let them hurt his brother again. 

“Reg… are you okay? You aren’t… hurting, they aren’t… hurting you?” Sirius’ voice sounded small even as it came out of his mouth and he clenched his eyes shut.

“I’m 22, Sirius,” Regulus scoffed, the sigh from moments earlier sounded long gone, “Father doesn’t lay a hand on me.”

But it was left unsaid and strung between them - physical hurt wasn’t the only thing Orion and Walburga inflicted on their children. Sirius fell quiet, wondering how else he could convince Regulus to just drop it all, let the business go to someone else and run away, get away from all the cold and harsh words and raised voices. He had tried for nearly ten years, but it hadn’t ever helped.

Regulus sniffed and the noise shot through Sirius. He could remember leaning over that glass coffee table, credit card in hand, cousin Bella at one elbow, Evan Rosier at the other. He felt the bile rise in his throat and found he couldn’t speak even if he wanted to. Regulus sounded tired. “Goodnight Sirius.” 

Sirius hung up without saying anything further. The screen reverted to Remus’ Instagram profile and he threw the phone away with a cry of annoyance. Perhaps if Sirius wasn’t so utterly neurotic and paranoid about letting anyone see how he really was apart from James and occasionally Lily, he might actually be able to have a decent relationship. He might even be able to just throw caution into the wind and have glorious no-strings sex with his hot co-worker. But alas, Walburga and Orion had left lasting claw marks on his insides. The tears sprang to his eyes and for once he let them fall down his cheeks, finger clenched between his teeth incase James and Lily came home any moment. He absolutely would not ruin their anniversary. 

At some point Station to Station slipped to Blackstar and Sirius didn’t have the heart to turn it off, thinking about how Bowie must’ve known he was dying as he wrote the album, essentially a eulogy piled up with the most gorgeous music he’d ever heard. He slipped into sleep a while later, blissfully ignorant anything James and Lily might be getting up to. Before he drifted off, his mind was resolutely stuck on leaving 14 year old Regulus in that house, the sensation of cocaine at the back of his throat, and the taste of Remus’ cigarette on his tongue.

The crows come again, cawing and tearing at the bare skin on his arms, his shoulders, the high points of his face. Regulus is there, when the crows settle and leave bloody raw tracks in their wake. He’s making lines of cocaine on that glass table, cousin Bella at one elbow, Evan Rosier at the other. He sees Sirius at the door and is there at once, slamming the door in his face. Then the screams come again, persistent, right in his ear, shivering down his spine, blood at the back of his throat. The first whack of the fire poker sends him to the floor. Walburga crouches down next to him, leans in close. Her voice seems to grow claws and dig into his flesh. 

“You did this to him.”

Chapter 9: Lucky 13

 

Despite his minor - or possibly major - break down on Thursday, the night of the Marauder Ink Birthday Party came with a rush of excitement. On Friday, he had entirely ignored the outside world, citing little sleep as the reason his eyes were dark and his lips were devoid of his signature grin. It passed fairly easily, headphones permanently on, with as little conversation as possible. Remus had ignored him too, only the odd nod of the head, a murmured agreement in a shared conversation.

But that was fine. Sirius was more than capable of compartmentalising his life down to a tee. He couldn’t do anything to help Regulus in this moment, he’d learnt that over the years, so that could be filed away, despite the clawing feeling at his stomach, Dream-Walburga’s voice in his ear. He had to carry on with his work, he had clients to satisfy and besides, his work gave him an outlet little else did, so that could be filed away, dipped into whenever he needed it. He couldn’t do anything about his strange swirling feelings for Remus, so he would have to either wait for them to settle to properly analyse them, or - knowing his luck - he could just get catastrophically drunk and see where they took him. 

The shop was closed on Saturday in preparation for the party. Lily, James and Sirius had spent most of the morning at the venue with their party planner Molly, making sure everything was in order. Mid-afternoon they had begged off to go and get ready, leaving the party in Molly’s capable hands to get everything set up. Sadly, the summer party wasn’t a costumed one - that was saved entirely for Halloween and they expected everyone to go all out. The summer party was black tie, although that could be taken with a pinch of salt. Sirius had been pondering over his outfit choices for the past few weeks, but finally settled on a good ensemble, if slightly over the top and ridiculous.

But then, who was Sirius Black if not slightly over the top and ridiculous?

Besides, he looked good. The mirror agreed. A sharply tailored tuxedo jacket hung open from his shoulders, bare chest underneath so adorned with tattoos it sometimes felt like he didn’t need clothes. The jeans were black and tight, like almost every pair he wore, started with an adorned belt and ended with his favourite patent buckled boots. Despite the sharp jacket, his hair was artfully mussed and there was just a hint of eyeliner around his lashes. Sirius was pretty content with his appearance.

James, who was currently chugging another glass of margarita in the kitchen, had scrubbed up well too, a white button shirt and an equally sharp and tailored tuxedo jacket. True, he had gone a little more traditional with trousers, rather than jeans, and shiny dress shoes, but he still looked like James. His tattoos showed through the white shirt when the light hit it right, and of course the ones on his hands and neck peeked around the edges of his outfit. Neither he or Sirius ever intended to hide their tattoos, and they certainly didn’t need to, not anymore, not at their tattoo shops’ party. 

Lily looked stunning, as she did most days, as some glorious cross between a mermaid and a fierce valkyrie, in an off the shoulder, forest green pencil dress that seemed to bring out her eyes and her hair and every freckle at the same time. Her hair was in a beautiful 1940’s style wave, cascading over one shoulder. If Lily wasn’t his sister, he would’ve spent the night drooling over her.

Sirius didn’t intend on getting too drunk. It was a party, yes, but there would be press there, and they were representing Marauder Ink. As much as it seemed a valid solution to at least 90% of his problems, he didn’t think getting rat-arsed would be a good image to put forward as the co-owner of the shop. 

A knock at the door drew Sirius from his revery at the mirror.

“That’s Moony!” Lily called from adjusting her hair in the bathroom. “I told him to come here so we can all get the car and arrive together!”

Sirius suppressed a groan and glanced around. James was changing the record at the player, whilst simultaneously drinking margaritas, and Lily was otherwise engaged. So that left Sirius to answer the door. Great. At least he would look good doing it. He crossed to the door and pulled it open to find Remus there, looking stunning no less. He was in a burgundy suit, more tailored than anything else Sirius had seen him in, the trousers just grazing his ankles, black brogues on his bare feet, white shirt open to show that damn piercing at his clavicle.

“Hi…” Sirius swallowed and stepped back to allow him in.

Remus smiled and glanced around the apartment before his amber gaze landed on Sirius. Neither of them were sure where they stood, after the culmination of all their moments, Sirius turning down their date and then flat out ignoring him yesterday. “Hi Pads. Phew, this place is nice.”

Sirius just smiled and shut the door behind him. What was he expecting - Remus’ jaw to drop before he proclaimed how good Sirius looked? “Thanks.” He led Remus through to the living room, where James and Lily were now gathered.

“Alright Moony,” James nodded, embroiled in the search for his wallet, which had to be here somewhere. One day, Sirius thought, James would be capable of not losing his personal effects every five minutes. Today would not be that day.

Lily grinned. “Hey Moony, how are you?”

Remus hugged them both in greeting and it stung Sirius how hurt he was that he didn’t receive a hug. “Lily, you look lovely. Prongs,” he said as James turned to him, “you turn out alright.”

James flipped him the bird and pocketed his now-discovered wallet. “Nice suit, mate.” He shot back, crossing back to the kitchen and retrieving a bottle of prosecco. “Thought we’d have a little toast before the car gets here?”

Murmurs of agreement echoed through the flat and Sirius went to the cupboard to retrieve the wine glasses. They only had four, and they were all mismatched, but it didn’t really matter as long as they could hold liquid. James popped the cork and the others cheered, Sirius’ grey gaze sliding over to Remus to watch the way his arms moved under the fabric of his jacket. 

“To our fourth year,” James started once they all had a drink in hand, “to growing, to new friends-” he nodded to Remus and Sirius wondered if they could be called friends after only a month- “to where we might go in the future and all we’ve achieved so far. To Marauder Ink!”

“To Marauder Ink!” Sirius, Lily and Remus echoed, and Sirius took a long drink of his prosecco from a glass probably more suited to brandy. He shook away the distinctly upper-class thought and chased its remnants with another swig of prosecco.

“Selfies!” Lily sang once she had drank her prosecco in one fell swoop. Sirius promptly grabbed James by the scruff of his neck and pulled him in to a bruising brotherly hug. Lily tucked in on James’ other side, well versed in their usual antics, and Remus threw an arm around Lily’s shoulders. Lily stretched with her free hand but thanks to Moony’s addition to the group selfies - It’s all his fault, Sirius thought - she couldn’t quite fit them all in frame. 

“Here,” Remus muttered, gently prising Lily’s phone from her hand and holding it out a little further away thanks to his stupidly long limbs that Sirius definitely didn’t want wrapped around him. He took a variety of photographs, which Sirius pulled various faces for, and very occasionally a nice smile. The last one, of course, ended with him attempting to stick his tongue down James’ ear, purely because it made him feel better and made James shriek like a girl, Lily burst into giggles, and Remus just quirk a judgemental eyebrow.

Then, before James and Sirius could descend into teenage fisticuffs, Lily’s phone rang. “Car’s outside! James, put Sirius down! Sirius, stop licking him! Let’s go.” She grabbed James by the ear, thoroughly nonplussed by their antics, and started tugging him towards the door. Sirius straightened up with a mischievous grin, smoothing his jacket a little and looking up to find Remus staring at him with curiosity in his amber eyes. Sirius smiled nicely because he wasn’t sure he could do anything else, and stepped past Remus to start down the stairs. Only, he had to wait for Remus to vacate the flat before he could lock up, which resulted in more mildly awkward waiting and staring between the two of them. 

In the car to the venue, Sirius booted up Instagram and went live just to avoid having a proper conversation. James and Lily were used to his being on Instagram and smiled and waved between getting on with their own conversation. Remus stared out the window, occasionally joining in with James and Lily’s topics of discussion. Sirius chatted and chatted, about the party, about what he was wearing, what Lily and James were wearing, and fielded several questions about the new guy without really giving any information - because it wasn’t his to give - until they pulled up outside the venue.

There was a small crowd outside of entertainment reporters and photographers with cameras bigger than their heads. Lily had planned their arrival to be fashionably late, so that many of the attendees were already there and settled, but not so late that they were missing the party. Despite her insistence, Lily had a penchant for a dramatic entrance. 

James stepped out first, holding a gallant hand for Lily, followed by Sirius, who hopped out of the car with a grin that split his face in two. Halfway to the door, Sirius glanced over his shoulder to see Remus, hands in his pockets, trudging behind him, awkward under the unflinching stare of the cameras. A month ago, Sirius would’ve turned back on his heel and trotted through the door with a wry grin, letting the cameras flash around them, but he was being friends with Remus. If he wasn’t allowing himself to fall into bed with him, he would be friends with Remus instead. So Sirius popped onto his toes and slung his arm around Remus’ shoulders. If the taller man was surprised, he didn’t show it, and just smiled enigmatically at Sirius before pushing him through the main door to the venue. 

The venue looked amazing, Molly had done a brilliant job, all low atmospheric lighting, seemingly endless trays of drink, beautiful people looking beautiful in beautiful clothes. James and Sirius’ art adorned the walls between thick drapes, the booths decorated with candles. It was less decadent than Halloween, where they really went all out and turned the venue into something set designers would be jealous of, but it was still over the top.

Sirius followed James and Lily through the crowd, Remus still at his shoulder, greeting everyone he passed with a huge grin and a clap on the shoulder. They would have time to mill properly after the speeches. James made a beeline for the small stage that had been set up for the performers, and Sirius murmured to the DJ to cut the music for a moment before following his best mate up the stairs. Lily stepped back a little to allow them the spotlight but still stood to the side of the stage. After a moment she pulled Remus up next to her and linked her arm through his. Marauder Ink was all four of them now after all, despite Sirius’ occasionally violent thoughts about the newcomer. Lily laid her head against Remus’ upper arm as James cleared his throat to gain everyone’s attention. Sirius threw a companionable arm around his brothers shoulders and grinned out at the crowd, fully aware that he looked dashingly handsome.

“Evening everyone!” James trilled into the microphone someone had shoved into his hand. There was a small chorus of replies that made him grin wider. “First off, thank you all so much for coming out tonight to celebrate with us. This is our third birthday, and going into our fourth year of business and honestly, it’s better than Sirius and I could’ve imagined when we started out our apprenticeship with Minnie and Mad-Eye.” James paused to gesture at two people stood slightly to the side. McGonagall raised an eyebrow at being called Minnie but there was a proud smile on her face, and Mad-Eye made a face somewhere between a grimace and a grin, and Sirius took that to mean he was happy too. 

“What we mean to say,” Sirius started, leaning over to speak into the microphone James still held, “is that we are incredibly grateful to you all, we couldn’t have made Marauder Ink into the name it is now without you. That goes especially for my dearest sister-in-law and manager extraordinaire Lily Evans-Potter.” Sirius threw his hand to the side and Lily stepped forward a little. Sirius waved his hand and beckoned her closer, close enough to wind an arm around her shoulders and pull her in too.

Lily rolled her eyes and leant for the microphone. “What Sirius is trying to say, is that without me, these two idiots would still be brilliant artists, but the shop would be in pieces around them. Isn’t that right?”

Sirius gave a sheepish grin to the crowd and shrugged his shoulders. James leant over and kissed Lily’s temple, grinning ear to ear. Lily prised the microphone from Sirius’ hand and glanced back to Remus, who was stood to the side, hands in his pockets. Sirius paused a moment and watched him, white shirt open at the throat, the long tailored lines of the suit hugging every bit of his physique. Sirius was shirtless, but somehow Remus looked more exposed than he felt. 

Lily grinned and beckoned Remus towards them in the middle of the stage. “And we wouldn’t be doing so well without the newest member of Marauder Ink, our resident piercer, purveyor of sarcasm and wit dryer than the Sahara, Remus.” 

James lead the crowd in a series of cheering and whooping as Lily dragged Remus into the group. Sirius found his arm around the other mans waist, gripping tight at the curve of it just below his ribcage. 

At the side of the stage, Dorcas had stolen a second microphone and turned to the crowd. “To Marauder Ink! Hip hip!”

The Hooray! echoed through the room as Dorcas led three cheers and the Marauders bowed with each one, eventually stepping from the stage and into a throng of people. Somewhere above the crowd, someone introduced the first performer, a friend of Alice’s who played at their dance competitions, and the smooth swing music flowed through the room a moment later.

 

Sirius weaved his way through the crowd, drink in hand. He’d lost James, Lily and Remus at some point, getting pulled from person to person to say hello and catch up. The last time he had seen most of these people was the Halloween party the previous year, and the next time he’d see them again would be the upcoming Halloween. But it didn’t particularly matter, Sirius felt like a hummingbird, flitting from tree to tree to find his nectar, compliments, praise, deep discussions, a shot or two of some awful liqueur - it was all the same to him and he was on cloud nine.

Drink in hand, Sirius found himself at the edge of the dance floor, watching Frank and Alice absolutely decimate everyone else. They danced like they were made for each other, all pieces of a puzzle, fitting all their edges together and knowing exactly what to do next before they even thought about it. Sirius wondered for a maudlin moment if he would ever have something like that with anyone else, something that went past thinking and straight into knowing. He and James were like that sometimes, blood brothers, wound together through years of friendship, knowing each other inside out, but it wasn’t the same. 

Speak of the devil, Sirius thought as he spotted James on the edge of the dance floor, deep in conversation with Minerva and Moody. Sirius crossed through the crowds and sidled next to his best friend.

“Minnie! Mad-Eye!” He called jovially, knowing he was the only one who could get away calling the legend that was Minerva McGonagall Minnie to her face. Mad-Eye wasn’t much better, but at least Alastor Moody owned the nickname that was given to him decades ago, thanks to the heterochromia that meant one eye was a vivid bright blue next to its normal brown partner.

“Mr Black.” McGonagall smiled over her drink. Most people would’ve suggested Minerva looked out of place at a party like theirs, but beneath the modest dress, Sirius knew Minnie was one of the most tattooed people there, and a complete master in their field. She was one of the first female - and openly gay - tattoo artists in the UK to set up her own shop, along with her business partner and lifelong friend Mad-Eye. “You both look very well.”

“All the better for seeing you,” Sirius replied at the same times James said-

“Not as well as you.”

Minerva rolled her eyes and smiled. Sirius immediately felt transported to 16 years old, James and he being led inside their mecca of a tattoo shop after being caught graffiti-ing outside. Never did he imagine their idle schoolboy delinquency would result in the biggest event of their lives so far. Sirius pulled James closer by the shoulders to try and transmit some of the affection he felt bursting through his veins.

 

Hours later, Sirius was on the dance floor and it was beginning to feel like a normal Saturday night. He and James had done the rounds, saying hello to everyone, regardless of whether they recognised them or not, and gave an obligatory few lines to a reporter who seemed utterly put out by the lack of filthy gossip. Frank and Alice had taken a little break, still tapping their feet at the bars like the music was impossible to seperate from their souls, and the band Remus had suggested were on stage. Doc and the Twins were quite good, surprisingly, playing a sort of bluesy rock-and-roll that everyone seemed to be enjoying, Sirius included. 

James was shredding his air-guitar - woefully out of time with the actual guitar - and Marlene was providing back up in the form of air-drums. Sirius, Lily and Remus were dancing alongside them, attempting to avoid James’ flailing limbs. 

Sirius wasn’t entirely sure when he started paying attention to the way Remus danced, but all he knew now was that he couldn’t really stop. Any other day of the week, Remus looked like some scruffy teenager, in jumpers too big, drainpipe jeans that were just a little too short, a mop of hair shoved under a hat, but tonight he looked like something else entirely. It was almost animalistic, like that wolfish smile he got sometimes. His burgundy jacket was thrown over the back of a chair somewhere, and his white shirt had another button undone, still tucked into slim fitting burgundy trousers. Sirius had the odd urge to get on his knees and lick his bare ankles. But instead, he stamped his foot in time with the driving drumbeat. 

It wasn’t just Remus’ clothes - it was the way he moved, sinuous and slow against the music, always so cool and detached and infuriating. Sirius’ mouth had felt dry since they started dancing, and no amount of alcohol could rectify that. He was glad for Lily dancing between them, providing some semblance of common sense for Sirius, as his seemed to have flown away with James’ ability to play air-guitar. But then Lily moved, slinking off to the bar between songs, unaware she was the last bastion of Sirius’ functioning brain, and he forgot all together why he and Remus weren’t already sleeping together. 

Remus glanced up, brushing aside a curl that had fallen into his eyes, and Sirius shuddered. Remus’ amber eyes met his and Sirius bit his lip, hips still swaying and circling to the beat of the music. Those amber eyes tore away from his and strayed down his body, the obscenely tight jeans, the bare chest, abdomen fluttering with the movement of his muscles, a slight sheen on his collarbones from the heat of the room. Sirius was hyper aware of every millimetre of himself under Remus’ gaze and he knew at once there was only one way to end this.

Chapter 10: The Wings of a Hawk

Notes:

note the rating change to Explicit, because I am trash for wolfstar! not to say every chapter will be explicit from here on out, but there may be scenes of an explicit nature (!)

 

Sirius grabbed Remus’ wrist when he stepped closer. His shirt sleeves had been rolled to the elbow an hour ago and the scar tissue felt as if it sprang to life beneath Sirius’ fingers. Remus ran hot anyway, always warm despite the weather, his skin burning under Sirius’ fingers, a sheen of sweat clinging to the high points of his face, in the hollow of his throat that Sirius longed to lap at. Remus went along obligingly, a smile curling the corners of his mouth. They ducked through the crowd and Remus’ hand found the small of Sirius’ back. Even through his jacket the touch felt hot, sexual, far too intimate and Sirius sucked in a breath.

At the door to the staff-only section, Sirius pulled Remus into his body and their lips met in a bruising kiss. Remus braced one hand on the wall beside Sirius’ head and Sirius stretched up to lick into the other mans mouth. Remus kissed like he wanted to devour Sirius whole, all teeth and tongue, commanding and sensual, and Sirius felt giddy with it. Remus’ other hand went to his hair, stroking through the strands with a gentleness that didn’t seem to match his kiss. The force of it all hit Sirius square in the chest. It was the drink, it was the atmosphere, it was the party around them, the lingering nightmare of the crows at his shoulders, the barbed looks they had been trading for weeks. But then, it was the way Remus tasted against him, the way his hand felt utterly natural in Sirius’ hair, the way their bodies slotted together.

“Sirius…” Remus breathed in a split second their lips weren’t touching. His kisses seemed to soften a little and Sirius pulled him closer by the collar. Usually Sirius wanted murmurs, little declarations, slow kisses, but that seemed all wrong somehow. That seemed like too much of a promise between them, and right then Sirius was drunk enough to just want to kiss Remus and not worry about what would happen in the morning. 

“Shh,” Sirius murmured back, gently tugging Remus’ lip ring between his teeth. “Don’t think, don’t talk, don’t ruin it.” He stretched up to press another hard, open-mouthed kiss against Remus’ lips before stepping back and ducking into the staff-only area. Remus was on his heels, his hand finding Sirius’ lower back again, this time beneath his jacket, thumb circling little patterns into his bare skin. 

Sirius didn’t risk glancing behind him to look at Remus, feeling like he might spontaneously combust if he met with those amber eyes and couldn’t have him right at that moment. He turned down a small corridor, out of the way enough that it didn’t get much passing traffic, and besides, the staff at the venue knew them all well enough after several years of parties not to care if Sirius was back there. 

All at once Remus’ hands were on his shoulders, pushing him against the wall of a small alcove, pressing his body against his. Sirius gasped, back bowing away from the wall to try and seek out some kind of contact. Remus kissed him, deep and slow, a knee nudging between his thighs.

Sirius kissed back like the world might end if he couldn’t, one hand finding purchase in Remus’ hair to hold him close, the other clutching over the lines of his chest through that white shirt. Remus stroked his fingers over the line of Sirius’ jaw, the high of his cheekbones and through his hair, earning a soft hiss when he tugged slightly. His tongue was sliding against Sirius’, curling around all the confines of his mouth like he was trying to taste every inch of him. Sirius felt a wave of lightheadedness pass over him and clutched tighter at Remus’ hair, breaking the kiss to let his head drop back against the wall. The thundering bass of the music still echoed through the corridor and set Sirius’ bones on edge, like the music was moving through him and turning everything up to 11.

“Fuck, Moony,” he gritted out as Remus trailed his hot mouth down his neck, over the wings of the hawk. Sirius ran his hands over the planes of Remus’ back, all long, hot lines that he just knew would look glorious laid out beneath him, quivering. Sirius groaned at the thought and his hips canted of their own volition.

“Oh God,” Remus murmured between kisses, “Shit, you’re so- you look so… fuck - fuck-” He bent his head to suck a lurid hot mark into the tender join of Sirius’ tattooed throat and shoulder and a soft growl slipped from Sirius’ mouth in response. Sirius stretched against him, his body pliant and molten, shifting restlessly against the wall. 

His hand slid around Remus’ ribcage, pulling him closer - not even a sliver of air between them was acceptable - and Sirius moaned low in the back of his throat at the delicious sensation of Remus’ body against his. Everything was warm, searing, and Sirius’ hips canted forward, desperate for friction, at the feel of Remus’ erection against his hip.

Remus jerked, his entire body one tight coil of tension, and muttered something that sounded a lot like “Pads… shit,” before scraping his teeth over Sirius’ collarbone. Sirius whimpered into a mouthful of coppery honey curls and scrabbled to untuck Remus’ shirt from his trousers. His hands slid under the shirt, over the warm planes of his back to clutch him closer and grind their hips together. Remus moaned, open mouthed against his neck, and tugged his jacket from his shoulders, laving his tongue over the lines of ink there.

Sirius’ hands skimmed over the expanses of lightly tanned skin he knew were hiding under that shirt, finding a large patch of textured scar tissue between his shoulder blades. It was big, bigger than his hand with the fingers splayed, and Sirius paused a little, intrigue cutting through the heady force of desire. Remus stilled against him, just at the high point of a delicious thrust of his hips against Sirius’, and grabbed his forearms. He pulled Sirius’ hands out of his shirt and away from his body, pinning his arms hard against the wall either side of his stomach. Remus growled against Sirius’ pulse, a low warning of something Sirius hadn’t figured out yet, and bit down hard.

Sirius snarled back and wrenched his arms free, his treacherous body still stuttering against Remus’ in seek of friction. He didn’t like being pinned down, he didn’t like relinquishing control, not since he’d spent his youth so desperately out of control. In all of his sexual encounters Sirius had always been the one in control, the one in charge, the one leading it all, regardless of anything else, and it wasn’t going to change because of Remus. He grabbed the other mans’ shoulders and shoved him back, hard, but Remus’ hand was still wound through his hair and Sirius stumbled forwards too, until Remus’ back was pressed against the opposite wall and Sirius collided with him. Remus hissed and arched against him - the sensation went straight to Sirius’ groin and a moan rumbled in the back of Remus’ throat in response.

Something feral flashed in Remus’ eyes that told Sirius perhaps he wasn’t well versed in being out of control either, but that just set Sirius’ blood boiling and he ground his hips hard into Remus’. Remus’ jaw fell slack, his tongue just resting tantalisingly on the inside of his lip ring, and his eyes fluttered. Sirius leant up slowly, like a wild animal face to face with another, wary of territory and baying for blood. He kissed Remus slowly too, languidly, tasting the alcohol on his tongue between the coolness of the piercing there. Everything seemed unsaid between them, all put aside for a moment, unimportant in the face of such sudden, crashing desire. Perhaps it was because he hadn’t been with anyone for a while, or because of all their building moments of tension, but Sirius was sure he had never been this aroused in his whole life.

Remus slid a leg between his thighs and curled a hand possessively at the nape of Sirius’ neck in an effort to meet him halfway with dominance. The motion brought their bodies together and Sirius moaned into the kiss, his hips shuddering. Somewhere in the back of his head he realised they were going to come in their jeans like teenagers if they didn’t stop or move on, but he was powerless to do anything but cant his hips back against Remus’.

One of Remus’ hands stayed tangled in the hair at the nape of Sirius’ neck as the other found the small of his back, pressing him close, fingers digging bruises. Sirius’ head dropped onto Remus’ shoulder, nuzzling away the collar of his shirt to mouth at the skin beneath, all tongue and teeth. He suspected the whole party could’ve gathered around them at that moment, and Sirius wouldn’t have given a fuck as long as he could still press himself hungrily against Remus.

“Oh fuck, Padfoot…” Remus hissed, tilting his head to the side to bare the long lines of his throat to Sirius’ ministrations. His hand on the nape of Sirius’ neck pulled him closer, his breaths coming hard and fast from his lips, shuddering. 

Sirius licked and kissed his way there, soothing all the little bites he left behind, hot breaths skittering across the sweat-sheened skin, all the building pleasure pooling at the pit of his stomach. 

“Mm, you taste so good,” Sirius murmured somewhere between it all, high on endorphins and the taste of Remus’ skin beneath his teeth. He slid a hand between them, shaking with the intensity of it all, palming over the bulge of Remus beneath his trousers, and Remus growled in response. Sirius chased the sound of it against his throat and tried to catch it with his tongue, bucking his hips against his hand. 

Remus’ hand slid from his back down to his arse, slipping over the smooth denim of his jeans and digging in, pulling him closer, rolling their hips together, Sirius’ hand jammed between them. It was desperate and messy, the culmination of all their moments, all the nearly’s or should have’s crashing together so hard Sirius couldn’t breathe. He didn’t want to think about what would happen after this, he just wanted the moment. 

Sirius’ hips jerked forward and Remus groaned back in response. Sirius could feel his muscles quivering beneath that white shirt and mouthed along to the piercing at his throat. The coolness of it between the heat of his skin made Sirius shudder and he swirled an experimental tongue around it. Remus moaned sharply and clutched Sirius closer, burying his nose in a mass of inky black hair.

“Oh,” Remus choked out, and Sirius felt his head drop back against the wall. “I’m- I-”

Sirius lifted his head from the crook of Remus’ neck to see that feral light back in his eyes, teeth bared on the black of his lip ring. He looked glorious, undone, hair all mussed, a flush settled across his cheeks, the fire still in his eyes. Something snapped and his eyebrows pitched together, jaw falling slack. Remus made a long, low noise that sounded something like relief as a moment of vulnerability crossed over his face.

Sirius felt his pleasure peak, the tug of it deep in his stomach making him want to clench his eyes shut but he couldn’t. He was too enthralled with watching this gorgeous creature come apart before him, hips still rolling together and he was falling, falling, fallin- oh, and then he was coming too but he still couldn’t look away. His orgasm hit him hard, watching Remus seconds ahead of him, throat convulsing to gulp down mouthfuls of air between light little moans he didn’t automatically attribute to either of them. Sirius found himself shaking, his knees giving way as the tremors wracked him, hips stuttering as they were both pulled through to the other side. He felt his entire body unravel and slowly stitch back together, suddenly aware of the French that sometimes sat at the back of his tongue, another childhood relic, and why the translation la petite mort seemed entirely accurate.

Remus clutched him closer, all fingers digging in and moan-filled breaths as the haze of orgasm finally left them, like the edges of a vision quest, coming back to reality after a miracle. He looked debauched, a sheen of sweat gathering at his upper lip, at his temples, his throat, deep purple blooming on his neck from Sirius’ teeth. Sirius was mildly aware he might look something similar, and a spot at his collarbone throbbed terribly. 

For a moment everything was still, bodies sinking together in the boneless aftermath of glory. Sirius whimpered and reached up to cup Remus’ cheek, his thumb feathering over the high point of his cheekbone, then the bridge of his nose, the curve of his eyebrow, circling around the piercing there. Remus leant his face into Sirius’ hand and his amber gaze raked over him, searching for something.

“Come home with me tonight,” Sirius breathed before he could censor his words, his oath not to curse the shop with a relationship doomed to fail long forgotten, “after the party is over, come home with me.” He leant up to kiss him softly, tongue tracing the lush swell of his lips in all of their kiss-bitten redness, and when he pulled away Remus still clutched him close.

“Sirius… I-”

“Sirius!” James’ voice rang through the quiet corridors of the staff-only section. Any other time, Sirius would have ignored it and delved back into the warmth of Remus’ mouth, but James never called him Sirius unless there was something really wrong. Sirius shot Remus a look of apology and stepped back, dislodging his body - with great difficulty - from his.

“Prongs! Just here, hold on!” Sirius’ voice sounded shaky even to his own ears and he ran a hand through his hair. He glanced up the corridor to see James at the other end of the hall, thankfully looking the other way back through the door. Sirius stooped to grab his fallen jacket and shoved a hand in the pocket to find a few napkins he’d stuffed in there earlier when they had come with his drinks. He handed one to Remus without looking at him properly.

James looked entirely distracted, still staring back through the other door, thank God. “Sirius, you need to give me a hand. Your cousin and her cronies are here.”

“Shit.” Sirius paused and ran a hand through his hair. “Give me two seconds Prongs!”

Remus quirked an eyebrow at the periphery of Sirius’ vision, still looking thoroughly fucked. Sirius made a noise of frustration and turned away to shrug on his jacket and unzip his jeans to try and rescue some of the mess. He wondered momentarily whether not being able to wear underwear with these jeans was a boon or a problem.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius muttered, still turned away from Remus, his knees still shuddering. “I have to go and deal with this.”

“It’s alright.” Remus sounded as breathless as Sirius felt, still toeing the line of post-orgasm delirium. 

“Sirius!” James called from the doorway, and a loud shriek sounded from outside.

“Alright!” Sirius did his jeans back up and took down the corridor at a jog, throwing the napkin in a bin on the way past and hoping he didn’t look too shagged out. If he did, James did not comment on it. Instead he ushered Sirius out into the main room. 

“She’s kicking up a storm. Her, her husband, Narcissa, and I think Rosier, Avery, and maybe Carrow too.” James looked frustrated, running both hands through his hair and leaving it even more out of place than usual. 

“Christ,” Sirius started pushing through the crowd towards the sound of more high-pitched shrieking. He found it at the bar, where cousin Bellatrix was fighting with a bouncer.

“How dare you!? Get your hands off me, you flea-bitten stain! If you break one thread on this dress I shall have you pay for every penny of it!” Bellatrix was holding the bouncer by the forearm, scratching at him with the other hand. 

Narcissa was at her elbow, her shrill voice echoing just as much as her sisters. “We just want to see our little cousin! It’s a free country isn’t it? You should be grateful we are gracing you with our presence, especially in a festering hovel like this! What is that on the floor!?”

Bella’s husband Rodolphus looked as if he were a second away from strangling the bouncer that Bella was clawing at, and Evan Rosier was glaring at anyone else to dare come any closer. The invited partygoers were stood in a circle, a good distance away from the group, wary of the sudden intruders and the fuss they were kicking up.  And, dammit, the two reporters they’d actually let into the party were gathered there too, eagerly snapping pictures of the two women causing a scene.

Sirius felt a wave of shame wash over him, clearing away the last dregs of arousal in his veins. He stepped forward. “Bella! Cissy! What a pleasant surprise!”

Bellatrix stopped and straightened up, a sly smile sliding onto her otherwise beautiful face. “Cousin Siri! Our invite must have gotten lost in the post, darling!”

Sirius grimaced as Bellatrix sniffed that telltale sniff that still hit Sirius in the back of the throat. Of course, they were probably all high as kites on cocaine Black Enterprises had allowed onto the streets - no doubt they got the best of it before it was cut with lidocaine and baking powder. 

“I’m sure, Bella, but there’s no need to manhandle the bouncers…” Sirius stepped forward a little more, holding his hands out. He didn’t want to cause a scene at the party, but so much of him was screaming to just grab Bellatrix by the hair and drag her out onto the street. She had treated him like dirt since he was old enough to understand he was different from the rest of the family, and yet despite him leaving she still stepped all over him and tried to put him down. 

Bellatrix turned on him then, whirling around, the lace of her elegant black dress spinning behind her, and brandished an acrylic tipped finger in his face. “Perhaps if you didn’t associate with such commoners,” she hissed, “I wouldn’t have to put them back in their disgusting place. You are a Black, Sirius. It’s in your blood. Don’t try to pretend you aren’t above all these degenerates.”

Sirius stilled and grabbed her upper arm. “This is my party, Bellatrix. You aren’t welcome, and these people are my friends.” Sirius tried not to think of how much he sounded like his parents, how much his fingers felt like Walburga’s digging into her arm, how much the timbre of his voice sank into Orion’s. “I am not above dragging you out of here, or calling the police. And I think you don’t want to get involved with them,” he sniffed in a parody of Bellatrix’s affectation, “correct?”

Bellatrix’s face darkened and Rodolphus stepped up next to her. He stood an inch or two higher than Sirius and was probably twice as broad. “I suggest you take your hands off my wife, traitor.”

James stepped up to Sirius’ shoulder and tried to push Lily behind him out of protective instinct, but the redhead shoved his hand away and stood resolutely by her husband’s side. Sirius didn’t look away from Bellatrix’s blazing eyes, but he felt James like a stone pillar next to him. 

“I suggest you leave my party, Rodolphus,” Sirius retorted, keeping his fingers from shaking on Bellatrix’s arm.

“I’ve called the police, Sirius. They’re on their way.” Lily’s voice came strong and clear over the murmurs in the crowd and Sirius felt a wave of gratitude for his sister-in-law.

Remus stepped up next to Sirius and laid a hand on his arm, as if he could see the anger coursing through his veins and threatening to spill over. Sirius felt Remus’ fingers practically shaking through his jacket and gave him a look filled with gratitude for his solidarity.

Bellatrix glowered and turned to Remus. Sirius kept his hand on her arm and resisted the urge to just wrench her away and onto the floor. Bellatrix smiled slightly. “Whose this, Siri? Your latest charity case? He’s new.” She tapped Remus’ nose where the scar sat across the bridge and tilted her head to inspect the mandala at his jaw. “I can give you the number for a good plastic surgeon.”

Remus didn’t react, only stared back at Bellatrix, but Sirius could see a muscle at his temple working.

Sirius stepped towards the exit, pushing Bellatrix with him. “Enough, Bellatrix. Leave.” 

He heard Lily step forward to try and appeal to Narcissa, who was watching with a coolness only capable of a Malfoy-née-Black. “Narcissa, you were always the more sensible one. You all should leave, before the police get here.” 

Narcissa barely spared a glance at Lily and looped her arm through Rosier’s. “Do not speak to me, urchin. Not unless you’re asking me how I take my drinks.”

Lily’s gasp was overshadowed by James’ bellow of rage as he lunged towards Narcissa. Mad-Eye was there in a moment, a hand on James’ chest to still him, his piercing blue eye inspecting his former protégé. 

Minerva stepped up besides her business partner and observed them all with a withering gaze from atop her wire rimmed glasses. “Enough. Ms. Lestrange, Ms. Malfoy. I suggest you and your companions leave before law enforcement arrives. If you would be so kind as to make your way out, that would be highly appreciated.” Minerva indicated to the door with a slight hand gesture. She was polite, but as always, her tone left no room for disagreement. 

Like scolded children, the interlopers moved towards the door. Bellatrix ripped her arm from Sirius’ grasp and held tightly onto her husband’s hand as she staggered away. Narcissa shot one last withering look towards James and Lily, the former of which who was still trying to get past Mad-Eye to inflict bodily harm. 

Sirius let out a long breath and watched their retreating forms until they were no longer visible, out into the street. He was too pent up to do anything except stand there, clenching and unclenching his fists and trying to remember what the therapist Euphemia insisted he see after he moved in with them used to tell him to do. But he was too drunk and too angry and wound up in all the wrong things, his mothers words on his tongue, his fathers touch under his knuckles, to think straight.

Thankfully Minerva and Mad-Eye took over somewhat. Minerva gestured to the DJ to start up again and manoeuvred through the gathered crowds to disperse them back into smaller groups and start returning the room back to normal. Mad-Eye ushered the two journalists out of the door with a cheery wave and a wonderful anecdote of his time in Honolulu with the Sailor Jerry. 

Things had nearly returned to the pre-Black intrusion when Lily touched Sirius on the elbow and pulled him gently towards the smoking area with James and Remus. Sirius breathed a sigh of relief that the smoking area was an enclosed, covered courtyard with patio heaters and cosy looking armchairs, mercifully empty. Sirius sank into the armchair in the corner and inhaled on the cigarette James handed him without even looking.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “They ruined it. The police should be here soon?”

Lily smiled wryly and accepted a cigarette from James too. “It was a ruse. I didn’t call them.”

Sirius let out a sigh of relief and took another drag of his cigarette. “Thank you, Lily. Thank you.”

“It’s alright, Pads. We’re all here for you, okay?”

“Yeah, we can tell them to fuck off whenever they come anywhere near you, mate,” James insisted, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Agreed,” Remus hummed, even though he knew nothing about the absolute shit storm that was Sirius’ family. 

There was a quiet moment between the four. James laid his hand on Sirius’ shoulder, Lily sat on the arm of the chair next to him and Remus stood with a small smile on his face between the three of them and the door. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” came a voice from the doorway, and a young man stumbled out a moment later, looking a little inebriated. “Those Blacks are fucked in the head, aren’t they?” He saw James first, and didn’t notice Sirius in the armchair. “I don’t know how you manage a business with one of ‘em, mate. Bit of a mistake there!”

James turned on the spot from where Sirius was sequestered in the corner, his face like a thundercloud. But before he could say anything in response, Remus had spun and delivered a cracking right hook to the mans jaw and knocked him soundly against the wall.

Chapter 11: Spiderwebs

 

“Remus!” Lily shrieked, a hand flying to her mouth.

Remus pulled his arm back to swing for the other man again, who was leaning dazed against the wall. James leapt forward and grabbed his upper arm, but Remus growled low in the back of his throat and shoved at James too. His eyes looked glazed, feral, almost an awful facsimile of the same look Sirius had seen only an hour before. James was strong after years of rugby and countless other sports, but Remus still fought wildly, a surprising amount of strength in his long limbs.

Sirius recovered from a moment of shock and scrambled from the armchair to grab Remus by the other arm. “Moony!” The nickname seemed to shock Remus out of it, and he stopped struggling against the other two men. Sirius took his other arm and stumbled slightly as Remus wavered on his feet.

“Sorry…” he muttered, voice sounding as glazed as his eyes looked. “Sorry, I didn’t… I’m drunk, sorry. I just - he just…”

Sirius was vaguely aware of James stepping to the side, assuring the injured party he was actually fine and ushering him out of the smoking area. He shut the door to and stood in front of it to give the four of them a modicum of privacy. James always thought quickly, always able to save face when their pranks were rumbled at Eton. The only time he wasn’t quick on his feet was whenever he was talking to Lily as a teenager. For some reason, she always bypassed his common sense, and everything that came from his mouth was idiotic gibberish. Thankfully that had abated once they were finally together. Lily still stood to the side, one hand clamped over her mouth.

“It’s alright.” Sirius didn’t think he sounded too convinced but tried to put as much gusto in his voice as possible. 

Remus slumped a little into Sirius, his head dropping back. Sirius caught sight of a purple mark on his throat in the shape of his own teeth and wondered where everything had gone wrong. “Sorry, sorry… I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Sirius reiterated, leaning against the wall to take Remus’ weight against him. He was still running hot, the sweat gathering at his throat again but Sirius felt too out of his body to feel anything. 

Lily stepped forward and gingerly laid a hand on Remus’ shoulder. She was used to dealing with Sirius when emotions got too high, as was James. Sirius’ brain was wired so that when it got too much, he shut down, stood or sat and stared into space until everything slowly ticked back to normal. Sirius curled into a ball and tried to pretend the world didn’t exist when he couldn’t handle it. 

But Remus was shivering, the rage working at the muscles at his jaw and temple. His cheeks were mottled red somewhere between shame and anger.

“It’s okay,” Lily confirmed, brushing the hair back from his forehead after Sirius had manoeuvred him into the armchair. Sirius’ legs were shaking, the emotions of the night catching up with him, and he held onto the back of the chair. Remus shook his head and rubbed a hand over his face, leaving his fingers pressing against his lips. His knuckles were white.

James nodded from the doorway and stepped away. “He deserved it, mate. Speaking about Pads like that.”

Remus’ eyebrows lifted, far from his usual cool expression, and Sirius saw another moment of vulnerability. “You’re not mad with me?”

James scoffed and ran a hand through his hair. “No? He deserved it, I don’t even know who the guy was. Friend of a friend? And besides - it’s us, we’re Marauder Ink. We stick together.”

“I- uh…” Remus’ gaze flickered between the other three. James looked steadfast, eyes burning. Lily was smiling softly, a calming hand stroking Remus’ shoulder. Sirius mustered a smile and nodded. “Thank you.” 

There was something about it all - Remus had punched the man because he had insulted Sirius, because Sirius’ family had crashed their party. Sirius felt a wash of gratefulness. He remembered James, at Eton, discovering the bruises on his legs, the half-moon nail marks on his arms, and hugging him tightly, muttering that no one would hurt his brother any more. He remembered Lily sitting up with him all night after Walburga had turned up at their first shared flat and Sirius had been too scared to sleep for hours. Remus punching some stranger in the jaw because he insulted Sirius seemed along the same lines, or at least leading down to similar things. Sirius tried not to think about their tryst only an hour or so earlier, and how good Remus had felt pressed against him shuddering through the throes of his orgasm. Well anyway, now he had found out how crazy Sirius’ family was, he wouldn’t want to get involved with him anyway. 

It was a nice moment whilst it lasted. 

Lily crossed over and fumbled in James’ jacket pocket for his cigarettes. She lit one and took a drag before handing it back to her husband, who was smiling wryly at her. “Let’s go home. I’m calling an Uber.” She moved back towards Remus and sat down on the crate masquerading as a table in front of him. “Come back with us for a little while, sober up.”

Remus nodded and rubbed a hand over his face again. “Yeah, okay, alright.”

Sirius lit his own cigarette to try and calm his nerves. He felt frayed, torn open from it all, like he did every time he came across his family. Even passing one of them in the street sent his whole day into free-fall, but a full on confrontation practically tore him inside out. Never mind at his shops’ party, followed quickly by his new friend and potential lover nearly knocking someone out as a result. Sirius jammed a hand under his thigh to hide the shaking and tried to catch James’ eye for help.

Lily tapped away on her phone to order an Uber. “Five minutes. I’m going to find Molly, tell her we’re leaving. I’ll see you outside?”

James kissed her temple on her way out before he crossed over to the two men. He put a hand on Sirius’ shoulder, firm enough to ground him and bring him back from the brink of his mind. He gave him a look that said alright? without needing to say it out loud. Sirius gave him a shaky nod, he felt tired, drained now all the adrenaline had left him. 

Satisfied, James drew Remus’ attention with a hand on his arm. “Moony, mate. Don’t worry about it. You punched a guy because he was being a dick. If you hadn’t, I would’ve, alright?”

Remus nodded and gave James a grateful smile that rang painfully through Sirius’ insides. He had given James that exact look himself so many times. “Yeah, alright Prongs… thanks.”

James clapped Remus on the shoulder and subtly helped Sirius slide to his feet. “Good. Right, now we’re done being all emotional, let’s go meet Lily out front, huh?”

Sirius chuckled weakly and stubbed out his cigarette into the nearest ashtray before starting back through the crowds. He let James lead through, easily deflecting any conversations and safely depositing Sirius and Remus out on the pavement. 

James pulled out three cigarettes and lit them all between his lips before handing one to each of them. Sirius felt another wave of gratitude for his brother and the unflinching way he could do exactly what was needed of him. Sirius leant against a windowsill and took a grateful pull on the cigarette, not caring that it wasn’t a menthol. Remus was pacing up and down outside the venue, hands shoved deep in his pockets, shoulders hunched up around his ears. He looked like a coiled spring again, body wound so tight that Sirius was almost desperate to unravel if he had the energy to even stand.

“Hey,” Lily sighed from next to him, plucking the cigarette from his fingers for a puff.

“Hey Lils,” Sirius repeated, eyes already closing. “‘M so tired.”

“I know, Pads. Home soon, alright?”

Lily smiled as Sirius leant up and pressed a sleepily grateful kiss to her cheek. She squeezed his shoulders and slipped off the windowsill to where James was pacing alongside Remus to keep him company. She muttered something to James, her arm looped through his, before stepping off the kerb to attract the attention of the Uber driver who was just pulling up.

Sirius clambered into the middle seat of the car, cigarette stubbed out on the door pillar on the way in. James settled on one side of him, Remus on the other, Lily wisely choosing the front seat to give the boys a moment.

Remus let his head drop back onto the seat, baring the long lines of his throat to the flickering gold of passing streetlights. Sirius was painfully aware of his own teeth marked into Remus’ neck and almost felt guilty for it.

“Pads,” Remus muttered, his head tilting to the side to catch Sirius’ attention. In all of his tiredness, devoid of adrenaline, his parents still clinging to his insides like a virus he was trying to sweat out, Sirius dropped his head onto Remus’ shoulder. “I’m sorry, Padfoot.”

Sirius shook his head and let out a long breath. “’S okay, Moons.”

“I…” Remus bit the inside of his lip ring, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just get angry… so angry sometimes.”

Sirius lifted his head a little, limbs feeling heavy with the weight of it all. “It’s alright, Moons…”

Remus’ amber gaze flickered over Sirius, searching his face, down his neck. Sirius wondered if his throat and shoulders looked as bruised as they felt. Remus just nodded, and let his head fall back against the headrest again.

James sighed softly and set a hand on Sirius’ shoulder in solidarity. 

Sirius felt as if he blinked and they were outside the flat, crawling out of the car and stumbling up the stairs with James’ hand on his arm. 

“Just stay for a while, sober up,” Lily was saying to Remus as they climbed the stairs, already digging in her purse for her keys.

“Yeah, yeah,” Remus muttered, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry Lily, I am.”

Sirius leant against the stair bannister as Lily opened the door. James crossed his arms and levelled Remus with a stern look. “Listen, Moony. It was Sirius’ wonderful family that fucked things up, and that was only at the end. It was a good night. You put some arsehole in his place, okay?”

Remus smiled and for the first time since the smoking area it seemed to reach his eyes. “Alright… thanks Prongs.”

Sirius kicked his boots off by the door and wasted no time in stumbling straight into his bedroom. He didn’t have the energy or headspace to hold any more conversations, not with Bellatrix still whispering over him, Narcissa’s cold gaze burning in to him. James stepped aside to let him past and Sirius firmly shut his bedroom door behind him. He didn’t care whether it could be considered rude, or whether James or Lily would explain the sudden departure from his usual disposition.

Shedding his clothes on the way, Sirius crawled into bed and tugged up the weighted blanket from the foot of it. He didn’t tend to use it often, only when his skin felt like it might just lift off and fly away with all the energy buzzing around beneath it. He groped blindly for his headphones and started Blackstar in a bid to chase it all away.

 

Sirius jerked awake to the echoing sounds of the crows. Instinctively he reached up and batted them away before crashing back to Earth with a low whimper. The weighted blanket was twisted around his legs and he kicked it away, skin crawling, sitting up to try and catch his breath.

He swung his legs from the bed and watched the lights flicker outside for a moment to try and find something concrete to attach himself to. When the world stopped tilting, Sirius stood up and padded to the kitchen in his usual manner, weaving through the shadows like they were the back of his hand. He was at the kitchen sink before he realised Remus was asleep on the sofa, tufts of golden auburn hair peeking from the top of the blanket Lily must’ve given him before they turned in themselves. 

Sirius let out a long breath and sipped at his water, trying not to stare at Remus whilst being careful not to wake him up. Down on the street outside, a car crawled past like a spectre in the otherwise quiet rumble of the borough. Sirius wondered if he felt like that sometimes, these midnight wakings, trying to beat away the crows and banish the sound of Walburga’s voice from his ears. 

“Padfoot?” Remus’ voice was sleep-soft, croaky with cigarettes.

Sirius winced and turned at the counter. “Hi Moony… I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“I don’t think so,” Remus sat up, the blankets pooling around his waist to reveal a Lions’ Rugby Club t-shirt James must’ve lent him, several sizes too broad for his shoulders. “You alright?”

“Yeah…” Sirius made his way over and sat on the other end of the sofa, too drained, too raw to think about what he should or shouldn’t be doing. “I…” he sighed and tucked his feet up onto the sofa. “Seeing my family always… sets me back.”

Remus just nodded and lifted the corner of the blanket, motioning for Sirius to tuck his feet under. The nighttime seemed to strip away everything else, the two of them wide open, teetering on the edge of drunkenness, chased away by lingering problems, the ache of bruised and split knuckles, the phantom grip of nails into tender flesh. Sirius watched Remus for a moment before obliging, stretching his feet out and wrapping both hands around his glass of water.

“I get that,” Remus whispered, his eyes dancing somewhere over Sirius’ left shoulder. Sirius realised a moment later he’d crawled into bed in only his boxers, but it didn’t seem to matter at that moment, shrouded in darkness.

“Yeah… They’re all fucking arseholes…”

“I think I’ve heard a bit about them, in the papers.” Remus smiled softly, dipping his head to acquiesce to the truth of Sirius’ statement.

“I’m nothing like them,” Sirius hissed back quickly, surprised at the vehemence in his own voice, his knuckles tightening to white around his water glass. He thought of the first day at Eton, trying to brush away the cloud that hung over him, the knowing stares of the other boys, the murmurs that chased him.

“I don’t think you are,” Remus muttered back, raising one hand up in defence above the blankets for a moment before letting it drop back down. Sirius watched the streetlights flicker over the scars on his arms, elegant lines echoing the city outside the window. He seemed softer in this light, and Sirius thought for a moment of the way his eyebrows pitched together, his jaw falling slack, teetering on that moment of pleasure. It didn’t seem to matter that they had come together hours earlier, rutting like teenagers in the back room of a party. It seemed to fall aside, unsaid between them. Sirius found all the questions he had wanted to ask stuck at the back of his tongue, lodged behind the shadowed rooms of Grimmauld Place. 

Sirius dropped his head back to watch the play of the shadows over the living room ceiling. A childhood spent staring at the floor made conversation easier without eye-contact, even after years. Even after seemingly endless therapy sessions, slow careful conversations with Euphemia and Fleamont, tender hands on knees and words of encouragement all seemed to slip away in the moments after a nightmare, and Sirius felt 14 again, terrified, lonely, painful.

“I ran away at 16… James’ parents took me in.” Sirius didn’t glance back down at Remus to see his reaction, just kept his chin tilted up to the ceiling. His shoulder throbbed still, and he absently rubbed a hand over the sore spot, wondering if Remus’ teeth were as obvious on his skin as his were on Remus. Everything else stuck at the back of his throat. “Walburga and Orion were abusive, a lot- a lot of different ways. Hard to get away from it, still now, sometimes.”

Remus let out a soft breath, just audible over the pounding of blood in Sirius’ ears. He stayed quiet otherwise, and Sirius wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or not for the silence.

“That’s hard to say too, still. That they were abusive… I didn’t realise that for a long time.” Sirius tapped his fingernails against the edge of his glass and gingerly sipped at it. He held it tight enough that he could kid himself his hands weren’t shaking. “But I’m out of there now. It’s only if they turn up somewhere… I don’t expect it.” Another sip of his water, trying to discern if water tasted of anything at all or everything at once. “Bella is the worst, she knows exactly what to do to - to get me, I guess.”

There was a rustling of blankets next to Sirius, and he felt the warmth of a body move against his. Remus shifted next to him, pressing the long line of his thigh next to Sirius’ and slipping his hand into his. “Prongs is right, Padfoot. We can tell them to fuck off if they come anywhere near you.”

Sirius smiled slightly and studied the ink on his fingers interlaced with Remus’. He wondered whether to scoff at the realisation that Remus had taken the hand with Swim tattooed on the fingers rather than Sink. “We? You don’t know them, or me. Not really.”

Remus shrugged, his enigmatic grin on the edge of Sirius’ vision. “So? We’re Marauder Ink, that’s what James said. I don’t need to know them to know that the crazy bitch back there needs to stay the hell away from you.”

Sirius chuckled. “Thanks Moony. I appreciate that.”

Remus smiled, hair ruffled from the hours of sleep that had separated them. James’ t-shirt hung off one of his shoulders, lightly tanned skin bared, the tail end of a pinkish scar just visible beneath the collar, painfully close to a bruise Sirius sucked into the skin. He didn’t have the energy to comment on it. 

Remus nudged his knee into Sirius’ before he lifted the blankets. “Get in here, you’re freezing Pads.”

Sirius’ smile stretched into a grin and he tucked his legs in next to Remus’ long limbs all folded onto their sofa. Remus dropped the blanket back over them and nestled down into the cushions. It felt comfortable somehow, despite everything between them, the last thing they did hanging unsaid between them like unclaimed kisses, the rasp of teeth, the coolness of the stud in Remus’ tongue. Sirius shuddered and looked back to the ceiling, sliding his water onto the coffee table. He didn’t want to bring it up, he didn’t want to ruin what was a wonderful fuck with the moors and weights of reality. He wanted to unmoor himself entirely and float into the inky blackness of night with Remus’ scars as his map. Sirius’ eyes fluttered shut against the endless buffeting waves of the world around him. 

Remus squeezed his hand, his thumb brushing over the knuckles. “You’re nothing like them, Pads.”

 

When Sirius came to, the sun filtering through the windows and cutting across his face, Remus was already gone. Lily was up, making tea in the kitchen and trying to be as quiet as possible. When Sirius shifted a little, slowly coming back to his senses, he realised the Lions’ Rugby t-shirt was draped over his shoulders, their previously shared blanket tucked around his legs.

“Morning…” Sirius muttered as Lily turned to the fridge to retrieve the milk.

“More like afternoon, Pads.” Lily hummed, crossing over to set a cup of tea on the coffee table for him. “You alright?”

Sirius nodded, pushing a wave of hair back from his face. “Okay… woke up last night - nightmare. Sat and talked to Moony for a while.”

“Oh?” A small smile curved the corners of Lily’s mouth. 

“Yeah… yeah. Last night was… difficult.”

Lily’s face fell into a carefully schooled expression of sympathy and reassuring optimism. “Yeah, I know… We’ll need to make sure the guest list for Halloween is tighter…” 

Sirius just nodded - he hadn’t quite slotted himself back into his body properly, unmoored from sleep and unsure if he knew how to swim. 

The front door to the flat swung open and James sprang into the room, forever impervious to a hangover no matter how much Sirius had tried in their youth. He crossed to the sofa and ruffled Sirius’ hair. 

“Alright, Pads?” He sang before smacking an overzealous kiss onto Sirius’ forehead. 

Sirius grinned up at him and punched him in the stomach, overflowing with brotherly love. “Better without your ugly mug in my face, Prongs.”

“I brought bacon,” James continued, unaffected by Sirius’ well placed right hook into his abdomen, and held up a bumper pack of bacon from the corner shop across the road. “And I’ve already spoken to the reporters from last night to try and limit the damage, and Kingsley to confirm if that restraining order from two years ago is active - it is - and then to the Black Enterprises Legal Department to explain in no uncertain terms that if any of them come within 100 yards of you the police will be on them so fast they won’t be able to even think about ditching the coke. So,” James let out a breath and fished in the cupboard for a frying pan, “bacon sarnies?”

Notes:

friendly reminder that I love you all! Thank you so much for your comments and interactions and love! <3

Chapter 12: A Silver Snake

Notes:

allusions to suicide and child abuse here folks, be careful and be kind to yourselves

 

Monday passed Sirius and James by in a blur. They spent their time playing FIFA, drinking copious amounts of tea, and eating some of Lily’s home baked cookies. Lily went out with Alice, to shop for a dress for one of her awards ceremonies. She did ask if Sirius would rather she cancel and meet up with Alice another time, but Sirius and James insisted, and Sirius was quietly grateful for some time alone with his brother.

Sirius’ phone was still blowing up, probably a million accounts tagging him in the photographs of the wonderful Black family reunion at the party. Sirius couldn’t deal with it, and instead relinquished his phone to James to swipe through and delete everything as needed. Every time Sirius had to deal with a family member, his gratefulness for James Fleamont Potter increased tenfold.

Early evening, when she returned from a successful trip to find Alice an outfit, Lily dropped onto the arm of the sofa to find James and Sirius in some kind of half-assed pillow fort, midway through an intense FIFA tournament involving a spreadsheet on James’ laptop. “Cmon, you two,” she started, leaning over to kiss James’ forehead. “I’ve spoken to your parents, we’re going over for dinner.”

Sirius and James immediately perked up, always drawn in by the quality of Euphemia’s cooking and Fleamont’s endless anecdotes. James glanced over to his brother. “You alright to ride the bike? Or shall we all get the train?”

“How about,” Lily leant over the pair and swiped the tupperware of cookies from the table, sequestering them to take the rest to the Potters, “you two take the bike, and I’ll drive.”

Sirius frowned and started to untangle himself from the blankets. “You sure?”

Lily grinned and grabbed one corner of the blanket, tugging it sharply so both James and Sirius tumbled out of it onto the floor. It said something to the relative occurrence of similar things that neither man seemed overly surprised. Then she moved around to grab a bottle of wine from the fridge, before pinning Sirius with a look. “I’ve known you both long enough to know when you, for some damn reason, need your brother, Sirius.” Sirius was vaguely aware of his cheeks flushing red, and felt James elbow him in the ribs. “Besides,” Lily continued, shoving the things she’d gathered into a carrier bag, “I get to take him to bed at night, you can have him for an hours bike ride.”

Sirius stood up and wrapped Lily in a bear-hug, lifting her from her feet and spinning her around a little. Lily laughed and looped her arms around his neck. “Padfoot!”

Sirius set her down and kissed her cheek. “I love you, Lils.”

“Love you too, you arsehole. C’mon, let’s get going.” Lily squeezed him closer before slipping out of his arms and grabbing the car keys. “Ready?”

James pulled on a hoodie and his shoes, throwing Sirius his jacket. “Ready, let’s go.”

“You know,” Sirius muttered as he snagged up two helmets from the cupboard at the door. “I thought when you two finally got together, I would be really jealous of you, taking my best mate off me.” The trio started down the stairs, skirting around to the small car park. “But turns out, I just got another best friend.” 

James paused, shooting Sirius the dirtiest of dirty looks. 

“Not as best-mate as you, Prongs, don’t worry.”

James gave him a satisfied look and clapped him on the shoulder. “Alright, good.” 

Lily watched the two of them before snorting with laughter. “And I married both of you, didn’t I?”

Sirius just grinned back at his sister-in-law and zipped up his jacket. James laughed, turning to Lily and pulling her into a hug. “You are the best wife in the whole world, you know? I love you, millions and millions.”

Lily kissed him with a grin. “I know. Love you too, baby. See you at the Potters?”

Sirius and James, feeling at once again 17, taking Sirius’ bike on its first test run, trekking down to the Cornish coast on an inaugural weekend as soon as Sirius passed his test, gave Lily a salute and climbed onto the bike.

 

By the time Tuesday came around Sirius had almost found his way back to normality. He had slept more than three hours on Monday night, placated by Euphemia’s cooking and raucous tales of Fleamont’s Retiree’s Bridge Club, the crows and Walburga far away, for once.

James took pity on him, and a detour that morning, providing donuts for breakfast, along with a cup of coffee bigger than Sirius’ head. 

He still hadn’t really looked at his phone since Saturday night, James and Lily swiping away all the notifications and dealing with the questions and questions. Kingsley, the lawyer that helped Sirius when he first ran away from home, confirmed that the restraining order Fleamont had put in place was still active, and to phone him straight away if Bella or any of the others appeared. 

“Hey everyone,” Remus muttered as he stepped into the shop just before opening, shucking off his jacket.

“Hey Moony! Donuts on the desk!” James shouted from setting up for his first client.

“Hey, Moony, I meant to say - Doc and The Twins were great. Think they’d be up for Halloween?” Lily’s voice echoed from the office. 

“I dunno Lily,” Remus called back, smiling wryly at Sirius, who was sat at the workbench, feet tucked onto his chair, headphones firmly on. “I’d assume so, but you’d have to ask them.”

Remus sat in the chair next to Sirius, and scooted it a little closer. Barely glancing from his paper, Sirius set his pen down and shifted one headphone slightly from his ear. James and Lily clearly knew he needed to try and absorb himself in things, but Remus wasn’t to know. He thought he felt okay that morning, that his head was on straight enough, and he could move past things, but then seeing Remus brought it all back. Every bit of Saturday night was intertwined, and it was hard to separate it all. Remembering how good it had felt with Remus was swiftly followed by the shame and rage at his family, then the strange no-mans-land of the middle of the night. He didn’t know where he stood. Apparently, judging by the cautious way the other man was approaching him, neither did Remus. After all, he barely knew Sirius. Sure, Sirius thought, they had gotten together and it had been the hottest thing Sirius had ever done, but then it all seemed to fly away on the wings of House Black’s arrival onto the scene. 

“Hi,” Remus murmured as soon as Sirius moved his headphone to the side. 

Sirius gave Remus a watery smile. “Hey Moony.”

Remus picked a piece of lint from his jeans and glanced up at Sirius. Everything felt different in the daylight, the comfort of Saturday night, all boundaries, blown away by darkness or desire, were right back up. “I messaged you, yesterday. To see how you were.”

“Oh.” Sirius snagged the elastic from his wrist and pulled his hair back into a quick bun to try and avoid pulling at it too much. “Sorry, I gave Prongs my phone.” He shrugged one shoulder, wary of vulnerability now with the morning light filtering through the windows. “Don’t deal very well with… well, you’ve probably seen all the wonderful photos of Bella cooking up a storm at the party.”

Remus just shrugged, still smiling enigmatically. “Can’t say I have, don’t tend to look at a lot of news, especially not ridiculous rumour-mill news.”

Sirius choked out something like a laugh then, eyes flickering finally to Remus’ face to see an open expression. He didn’t miss the fading marks on his neck, and wondered whether Lily or James would notice them, whether Lily would wonder what had happened between them. “Yeah, I guess… thanks Moony.”

Remus smiled and nodded. A moment passed before he touched Sirius on the arm, just feather-light, but it jolted straight through Sirius’ insides. It felt like he knew Sirius didn’t have the headspace to think about their rendezvous on Saturday night, and Remus was okay with that. Or, perhaps, more likely, it was that he wanted to forget Saturday night entirely, and was thankful for the distraction the Black family insanity was giving him. Sirius swallowed back a wave of acid and looked back to his artwork, willing his hands to stop shaking. 

When he looked back up from his drafting paper a moment later, Remus was gone, and his hands were still shaking.

 

At lunchtime, Sirius was feeling better. He’d had two smaller clients in the morning, little pieces that weren’t too taxing. It was almost as if Lily had expected they all might have been feeling worse for wear on the first day back after the party, but Sirius knew she hadn’t been expecting what did actually happen. If Sirius could pinpoint every time his family came flying in to ruin things, he would have an easier time of it all by avoiding those times like the fucking plague. After cleaning up, he reluctantly moved back into the main room to find James, Lily and Remus already stationed around the desk or the sofa eating lunch. 

“Alright, Pads?” James chimed, giving him a look to try and decide if he was at the stage of ‘shut myself away until everything is okay’ or ‘I need distraction from my shitty brain’. Sirius wasn’t entirely sure which one he was either, so just shrugged back at James and leant against the workbench next to him.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” Sirius muttered. He was decidedly not alright, and not hungry, but stole a few of Lily’s crisps, and it said something to the extent of the redhead’s worry for him when she didn’t protest. 

A moment of silence passed. Sirius was well aware he needed to just shake everything off and return to normal, and was beginning to get frustrated at himself for being unable to do so. Maybe it was the combination of everything at all once, whatever had happened with Remus, the party, meant to be a huge celebration, that all kind of melted down to his being an utter disappointment to his family. Everything was leaving a bad taste in his mouth. 

“So, um, I was speaking to Gid and Fab, yesterday.” Remus chewed his mouthful of sandwich from the deli across the road. “They said they had a really good time on Saturday, I think Gid has a bit of a-”

The door chimed and Remus drifted off, glancing up to the entrance, probably smiling politely at the customer. Sirius didn’t bother looking up from studying his nails, letting the others deal with any initial questions. It was only when there was a wave of oppressive, cloying silence, that Sirius looked up.

“Afternoon, Sirius.”

For a wild moment of sheer terror, Sirius saw Orion at the door, stately in his three piece suit, piercing blue eyes, the disapproving slant of a mouth, dark stubble. Regulus even held himself like Orion, back ramrod straight, hands clasped. Sirius fought the desperate urge to run, to just drop everything and tear out of the fire door, and run and run until his lungs stopped working to get away from his father. He wanted to scream and cry, to somehow find his way onto a bus back to Potter Farm like he had done that final night, delirious and terrified. His stomach dropped to his feet and Sirius was sure he would’ve vomited if there was anything in his stomach.

But it was Regulus, his brother, his younger brother - he had to remind himself. It had been two years since he had come face to face with his brother, and it made Sirius feel faint to see how much he had changed without him. Sirius knew he himself looked a lot like his mother, high cheekbones, searing grey eyes, a twitch of cruelty at the mouth, but to see his father reflected before him hurt.

Sirius held tight onto the workbench and didn’t move. In his periphery Lily put her sandwich down to lay a hand on James’ arm, who stiffened next to him. Remus sat to the side, presumably oblivious to it all.

“Didn’t you get the message I left you lot?” James spat from next to him, the protectiveness clear in his voice.

Regulus merely raised an eyebrow at James, and looked back to Sirius, who was staring at him as if he might burst into flames at any moment, wondering if he might either scream, cry, or upend the desk and run away. 

“I”m here to speak to my brother, Potter.”

James scoffed. “Well, he doesn’t want to speak to you.”

Sirius swallowed back a wave of bile and pushed off from the workbench, stepping forward. “Prongs, it’s okay…” He laid a hand on James’ shoulder, half to keep himself standing, half to reassure James. “What do you want, Reg?”

Regulus cast Orion’s eyes around the shop. “Can we talk?”

“Here is fine,” Sirius shot back, hand still on James’ shoulder.

“Okay, well.” Regulus cleared his throat and straightened his jacket. It was from Savile Row, Sirius could tell, tailored to within an inch of its life, shot through with silver, accenting the cool grey tie. “I’ve come about Bellatrix and Narcissa. It seems they were at your… party on Saturday.”

Sirius just nodded, trying to unclench his hand from James’ shoulder but it wouldn’t come. His vision felt like it was on the urge of going blurry, his heart was in his throat, pounding, choking. 

“And the photographs are all over, in the magazines and such. Now, I know you hired the photographers and they are your photographs but I’d appreciate it if you’d pull them from circulation. It’s not good publicity for Black Enterprises.” The words flowed smoothly from Regulus’ mouth, he was so used to public speaking, so used to the life Sirius had ran away from. Regulus shifted and pulled his wallet from his pocket - handmade, Italian leather, Sirius noted - and flipped it open. “If it’s the money you’re getting from the magazines, I can match it.”

Sirius’ eyebrows kept rising and rising the longer Regulus spoke, and the rage rumbled in the pit of his stomach. This was the first time he had seen Regulus in two years, and he had come to Sirius’ work to bribe him about things he had no control over?

“You…” Sirius swallowed, finally releasing his hand from James’ shoulder and stepping forward past Lily. “Are you fucking joking? You’re trying to bribe me to take down photographs of your fucking cousin ruining my party? They aren’t our photographs, and even if they were, I would tell you to fuck off! The reporters can do what the fuck they like, apparently! Fucking bribe them, not me! Do you think I need that tainted Black money? I’ve made a fucking name for myself without you arseholes, and if you think you can come in here and try to bribe me with blood money you have another fucking thing coming, Regulus!” His voice had been steadily rising in pitch and volume, and Sirius sucked in a breath, still trying to stop his heart from flying right out of his mouth. “That’s fucking despicable.”

“Padfoot…” 

“What!?” Sirius rounded on Lily with misdirected fury, and immediately felt shame hitch the breath in his throat. 

“I just… you could speak to Regulus outside, perhaps?” Lily, red faced, eyes wide, gestured slightly to the fire door, sitting propped open, and the alley beyond. 

Unable to say anything back, Sirius turned on his heel and strode through James’ room and out of the ajar fire door. A moment later Regulus joined him, looking even more displeased to be stood in an alley than he was to be stood in a tattoo shop. Sirius was seething, arms crossed over his chest. “You’re honestly trying to give me money to get rid of those photographs?”

“It was a decent assumption, Sirius. You could’ve asked them to run the story to give the company bad press. God knows you’re capable of that. Or you were, the last time we spoke.” Regulus straightened the cuffs of his shirt and clasped his hands. Sirius wanted to hit their fathers’ expression off of his face.

“No it fucking wasn’t a decent assumption! I don’t give a shit about the company’s bad press, Reg! I give a shit about that fucking lunatic ruining my party! So perhaps you should keep better tabs on her, and the rest of them!”

Regulus’ face was schooled in an expression of perfect neutrality, with just a hint of I have better places to be. Sirius found it hard to reconcile the man before him with the 14 year old brother he left at Grimmauld Place. “I don’t appreciate that, Sirius. It isn’t my job to keep an eye on Bellatrix. Although I am having to clean up her messes.”

Sirius wanted to scream. He jammed his hands into his pockets to try and hide the shakes, the blood roaring in his ears. “You know they were high? Black Enterprises coke I’m presuming?” Sirius stepped closer to his brother and peered at his nose. “Are you? Should I pat you down? Is it the good quality stuff? Keep that all for yourself?”

Regulus stepped back and frowned. “Sirius. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t know what it’s li-”

“No, Reg!” Sirius interrupted. “You don’t know what it’s like! I thought I had finally gotten away from them all, after years of it. And even once I ran away, they still follow me. I feel like I never left, I’m never going to get away from them.” Sirius’ voice cracked and he took a deep, shuddering breath. Now he had started he couldn’t stop - the words just kept tumbling and tumbling out of his mouth.

“I always saved you from the worst of it, you know that? But you just stood there and watched. Left me lying there unconscious whenever Orion was done with me! Is that what you do now? Just stand and watch? Turn a blind eye to the drugs, the guns, the black market deals, just skimming the top of the profits for your own pockets? Do you still get money from the brothels Rosier runs, or is that not to be mentioned? Do those profits still go right to the London Mayor just to keep him happy?” Sirius jabbed an accusatory finger at Regulus. “Who the fuck are you, Regulus? You’re not my brother, my brother, the Reg I knew, wouldn’t stand by and watch all of that.” He scoffed and crossed his arms again. “But then, I didn’t think my brother would stand by and let Wally tell me to kill myself, practically hand me the fucking pills for it. I thought my brother would’ve stepped in, but you didn’t. Don’t tell me you didn’t see that, Reg, that you didn’t know. That you couldn’t tell, you were fourteen, not four!” 

“Sirius…” For a moment, Regulus’ image wavered back to the little boy Sirius remembered from Grimmauld Place, sneaking Sirius food when he had been sent to his room without dinner again. It only stayed for a second, before Orion was back in his place. His cheeks were mottled red and his voice came out a little quieter when he spoke again. “You left me there.”

Sirius stumbled back against the brick wall, looking at Regulus with sheer incredulity. “I tried! I tried to get you to come with me, to leave as well! Fuck Walburga, fuck Orion, fuck the company! I tried to rescue you, Regulus. You wouldn’t let me.” He could remember the Christmas party like it was yesterday, the world spinning around him, finding Regulus in the crowd and begging him to leave, pushing through the nausea and sniffing back the fire burning in his throat. Rosier at one elbow, Bellatrix at the other, the hand in his hair pulling him down closer to the table.

“You know what? Fuck you Regulus. You know I always thought of you first. I always asked Orion to punish me instead. I always told Walburga it was my fault, whatever it was, it was my fault, never yours. For Christ’s sake, she forced me to do lines with Rosier and casually ask how the fucking whores were, at the Christmas fucking party, Reg, I was sixteen! And yet I still came to find you, tried to get you to run away with me. I didn’t want to leave you there! But you wouldn’t come! You chickened out, you fucking coward.”

“Because they’re our parents, Sirius! I can’t just leave them!” 

“And so now you do lines with Rosier and ask how the whores are!?” Sirius was vaguely aware of the hot, angry tears running down his face.

Regulus shoved his hands in his pockets and the moment of fragility in his voice snapped. The stoney facade returned. “Shut up, Sirius. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Fuck you, Regulus. Fuck you. Get the hell away from my shop. If you come back I’m calling the police.” Sirius stepped to the side and flung his arm out down the alley to punctuate his words. Without wasting another moment, Regulus straightened up and stepped past him, striding down the alley and out of view.

Sirius let out a shaky breath, and pulled open the fire door. It had been shut whilst they were outside, and Sirius vaguely wondered if one of the others had pulled it shut to try and give them some privacy. No doubt they would’ve heard him yelling regardless. Sirius felt like the world was imploding, like his insides were about to spontaneously relocate themselves outside of his body, like his legs were all of a sudden not legs but lead weights. He tried desperately to remember what the therapist had told him, to breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth, or to name five things he could see around him. But he couldn’t think straight. 

Without lifting his gaze from the floor, Sirius hurried back through the shop and into his own room, shutting the door behind him. He barely heard the “Padfoot…” that rose from the trio huddled around the desk. 

Chapter 13: Motorcycles

 

“Pads?”

Sirius didn’t bother lifting his head from his knees, sat on the tattoo bed with his legs folded in to his chest. He didn’t know how long he had been sat there, but his back was starting to hurt and his feet were going numb. “I’m fine.” He felt a weight on the bed next to him but still didn’t move, tightening his arms around his knees and letting his hair fall further across his face. 

“Prongs said you usually want to be left alone, times like these… so, you know, if you want me to go.” Remus hummed, managing to sound utterly nonchalant. Sirius felt the world pitch to the side and clenched his hands on his shins to try and keep it straight. 

“’S’fine.”

“And Lily has cancelled your afternoon appointment.” Still carefully nonchalant, like toeing the edge of a diving board, 100ft in the air.

“Oh.”

Sirius finally lifted his head from his knees and stared at Remus with red-rimmed eyes, almost daring him to say anything about it. Remus just stared straight back, face still open, no hint of judgement in his expression. He was apparently content to just sit by him without saying a word.

After a moment, Sirius looked away and sighed. “I suppose you heard all of that.”

Remus’ lip ring caught the dim light of the room as he tugged it between his teeth. He shifted further back on the bed until he could lean back on the wall behind them. Sirius stayed, knees tucked to his chest, wondering if he could get so small he could stop existing.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think the whole street heard, Pads.”

“Fuck… I’m sorry.”

Remus just shrugged. He almost looked stupid, long legs all folded on to the bed, squeezed in between Sirius and the wall, but he stayed there, careful not to press against him, unsure if the contact would be welcome or not. Sirius laid his forehead back on his knees again, staring down the pattern of the denim, trying to find something to focus on besides the roar of blood in his ears and how much his brother looked like the man he hated with every fibre of his being. The silence bled between them, like spilled ink at the corner of a piece of paper, crawling, spreading.

After a while, Remus sighed. “I’m not very good at emotional talking… Lily kind of shoved me in here, to tell you about your appointment being cancelled.”

Sirius didn’t look up from his jeans. It’s because she thinks we fancy each other, he wanted to say. Because she wants us to get it on because she thinks I’m lonely and I don’t know if I am but when we got off on Saturday I thought I might be alive again. But the words stuck on his tongue, felt fuzzy like a hangover, and he just swallowed.

Sirius didn’t think he was depressed, but it felt like that in that moment, it felt like his life had sort of ground to a halt without him realising. He was never the kind to need a relationship to feel fulfilled. He had his friends, and he had his work, and Marauder Ink was always his first priority. But there was a part of his brain that clung to the way Remus had felt against him. He was never any good at one night stands, always tried to stop himself but then, it sort of spilled over on Saturday with Remus, all coming to a head beneath tuxedo jackets and tailored burgundy trousers. But it obviously hadn’t worked out, had it?

Remus stretched his legs out and moved forward to slide from the bed. “I’ll leave you to it. Do you want a cuppa?”

Sirius shrugged one shoulder, tightening his arms around his legs, unfathomably angry with himself that he was in this situation, that he couldn’t deal with emotions properly, that he was so fucking broken that all he could do was sit there and watch like a stranger in his own body. By some sheer force of will, Sirius reached out and grabbed Remus by one of his belt loops, pulling him to a stop. “Stay.”

Something passed over Remus’ face then, but he nodded slowly and leant his hips back into the bed. Sirius tightened his finger through the belt loop, tilting his head up a little to look at Remus without lifting his head from his knee. His eyes flickered down over Remus’ body, back in his cable knit jumpers, hiding that body, hiding every plane of him Sirius knew intimately now. Remus just looked back, watching Sirius from the corner of his eye, unsure of where they stood. 

“Thanks, Moony.” He unhooked his finger from Remus’ belt loop and trailed it down to his hand, lacing their fingers. The motion pushed the cuff of his sleeve up and exposed his knuckles, split and bloodied from Saturday night. Sirius let out a breath that felt far too heavy for his lungs, like he had to dredge it up from the depths of his insides, like the darkness of the deepest ocean. He clenched his eyes shut against the buffeting tides and wondered anew what it would be like to just unmoor himself. To just let go and not worry, not think about what might happen, not to think at all. 

Sirius lifted Remus’ hand, pressing the knuckles to his lips. He kept his eyes shut, the heat of Remus’ skin against his mouth, the tip of his tongue just probing over one of the splits, the bruising there. Remus’ skin tasted of tobacco, of the soap they used to wash up in the shop, of something he just wanted to curl up into. 

“Padfoot…” The bed shifted next to Sirius again; Remus’ fingers twisted in his grip but he didn’t break it. “We need to talk about Saturday…”

Sirius pressed Remus’ fingers against his mouth, turning his hand palm up and sliding his tongue along the lifelines there. Remus let him, just sat and waited. Sirius thought he heard a soft exhale of breath, but kept his eyes shut.

“Do we?” His voice came out smoother than he expected, murmured against Remus’ palm before he nudged the cuff of his sleeve out of the way with his nose to lave his tongue over the sensitive skin of his wrist. “I don’t want to talk…”

Remus made a soft noise in the back of his throat, and Sirius opened his eyes to find amber ones staring back at him. The flash of heat was there again, the bright gold-green flecks that seemed to catch the light no matter how dim the room was around them. Sirius tucked his legs to the side and ran his hand up to Remus’ shoulder. 

“C’mere,” Remus whispered, turning his body towards Sirius and pulling him into his lap. Sirius wondered if the mildly broken expression on his face might’ve inspired pity from Remus, and perhaps that was why he was letting Sirius climb into his lap and push him down onto the bed. A moment passed and Sirius settled, straddling Remus’ thighs. He wanted to just curl up and forget everything, he wanted to not remember a thing and just lose himself, just unmoor himself. Sirius ducked down to kiss Remus, but he tangled both hands in Sirius’ hair, curling his fingers to hold Sirius in place above him. “Pads… I don’t want to take advantage of you.” 

Sirius shook his head, leaning into Remus’ hand to feel it pull against his hair. It felt like Remus was holding him together, unmooring him and yet keeping him afloat at the same time. He shifted his weight backwards, cupping Remus’ cheek in one hand and brushing his thumb over the swell of his lower lip. Remus made a soft noise against his touch and chased his thumb, nipping softly at the pad. 

Sirius shook his head again, gaze transfixed on the soft pink of Remus’ lip against his black nail polish. “You’re not… You’re not.” I just want to not fall apart, I want to forget, make me forget, make me forget, but it stuck under his tongue again, choked up behind the need to just taste Remus’ mouth against his. 

Making a quiet noise, Remus leant up to kiss Sirius gently on the mouth. Sirius sank into him immediately, crawling forward to plant a hand either side of his head. Lips immediately parted, soft breaths puffing between them, and Sirius wondered if he might sob for the tenderness of it all. Their kisses were the polar opposite of the last time they met, all slow and tentative, all the time in the world. The scene narrowed around Sirius; all he cared about was how close he could get to Remus, how hard he could hold onto his shoulders and how fully he could memorise the taste of his mouth. He shifted his weight, pressing closer to Remus, already feeling the blood rush away from where it was pounding in his ears and straight to his groin. Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius’ waist, pressing him close, hands trailing over his sides, over his arms. The cool of his tongue piercing surprised Sirius anew and drew a soft murmur of appreciation from his lips.

“Come home with me,” Sirius asked again, words pressed against Remus’ lips, their foreheads resting together, when he pulled away for breath. Remus pushed a hand through Sirius’ hair, inky black falling through his fingers as he carded it away from his forehead. Sirius’ eyes flickered shut, he felt on the edge of a cliff. He didn’t want to be rejected, he didn’t want to feel the sinking desperation of no when all he wanted was someone to keep him together.

“Yeah… yeah, okay.” Remus’ hands slipped from out of his hair and to his waist as he sat up, and Sirius secretly thrilled at how easily Remus moved him from his lap.

Sirius nodded, almost shocked he had said yes, and stood. He shifted his weight a little, simultaneously trying to catch his breath and think of something disgusting to get rid of his semi. Remus sat up, swinging his legs from the bed, and Sirius caught him just staring, amber eyes bright. Sirius shuddered under his gaze and closed his eyes briefly, trying to remember that he really couldn’t just shag his coworker at work. 

Trying to stay in the moment, Sirius took Remus’ hand and strode out into the main room. James was with a client - Sirius could hear the tattoo machine buzzing, could feel it in his bones - but Lily was sat at the desk looking mildly worried. She wasn’t quite quick enough to hide a look of surprise to see both of the men emerging from Sirius’ studio, but smiled shortly after.

“Thanks for cancelling that appointment Lils…”

Lily just smiled. “James is on the verge of going to Black HQ to kick up a fuss, I’ve managed to convince him it’s not a good idea.” Sirius gave a smile, incredibly aware Remus was still holding his hand as if he might bolt out of the door. Lily paused after typing something and gave him a piercing stare. “Go home, Sirius. Get some rest.”

Sirius nodded, smiling a little more convincingly now. “What did I do to deserve you, Lils?”

“Well, you put up with James for nearly ten years, Padfoot. Don’t worry about it.” Lily’s sharp green eyes flickered between both of them. “You’ve no appointments this afternoon Moony… you going too?” Lily’s tone was utterly casual, and she promptly looked away back to the screen, but Sirius knew her well enough to catch the intention behind her words.

“Yeah, if that’s alright,” Remus muttered, squeezing Sirius’ hand for a second before letting go and crossing to the office to retrieve his denim jacket and Sirius’ leather one. Sirius shrugged on his jacket without quite looking at Remus, holding his breath as if something might snap, as if something might slide away and leave him bereft. 

“Alright, see you later, Pads. Be careful. See you tomorrow, Moony.” Lily gave him a genuine toothy grin before flapping her hand and shooing them both out of the shop. 

To his utter surprise, Remus took Sirius’ hand as they stepped out onto the street, and Sirius wordlessly tugged them around to the alley towards the car park. When Sirius fished his keys out with his free hand and turned the corner to his bike, Remus stopped dead. 

“That’s yours?” His voice sounded strangled, and his eyes had gone distant but not in that wonderful, warm glassy way they had earlier. 

Sirius frowned when Remus dropped his hand as if it was boiling hot and crossed his arms over his middle. “Yeah… You can have the helmet.” Sirius moved over to the bike and put the keys in the ignition, wondering why Remus hadn’t moved from ten feet away. “Moony?”

Remus shook his head, staring resolutely at a point on the pavement. “No, I’m not getting on that. I’ll get the bus, or… or-”

“The bus doesn’t really go to ours. I’m here, just get on the bike Moony.” Sirius felt the beginning of anger roiling in the pit of his stomach, bubbling up through the confusion. A minute ago Remus had agreed to come home with him and Sirius was desperate to cling to the steadfastness of him. Why was he being so strange?

“No. I’m not getting on a bike.” 

“Moony, just get on the damn bike. I’m a good rider, it’s not like we’ll fucking crash or anything, it’s ten minutes away. Get on the bike,” Sirius said, crossing his arms. What was his problem? Was he so distrusting of Sirius on the bike that he would refuse to get on it? James had teased him in the beginning, refusing to get on the bike for knowing how Sirius tore around in school, but he soon stopped once he realised Sirius was actually offended; that his ability to be a good motorcyclist was actually important to him. After that, no one cared about getting on the bike with Sirius, James had, Lily had, Marlene and Dorcas were fans, and Sirius had even convinced Euphemia of a little trip around the Potter Farm back roads. Sirius knew he was a little shaky, his brain was a little haywire at the moment, but the bike always calmed him, and the idea of Remus pressed against his back on the drive back seemed like the only reason his blood was warm.

“No, Sirius.” The vehemence in Remus’ voice surprised him.

“Fine then,” Sirius snapped, slamming his hand on the gas tank of the bike. Remus flinched and his gaze shot up to Sirius’. “Fine, be like that. Fuck off then.”

Remus frowned - Sirius felt his stomach drop to the pavement at the flicker of pain across his face - and stepped back. He turned on his heel and strode off back down the alley. Sirius regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, as was always the case, but Remus was already gone, the damage was already done. He had always been quick to anger, always had a short temper. He tried so hard to keep it under control, but it was almost impossible when he was already so torn open by everything.

“Moony!” 

Remus didn’t react, not so much a stutter in his strides, a shrug of his shoulders, and just disappeared back onto the High Street. Sirius groaned, sinking his head into his hands and vigorously rubbing at his face for a moment to try and figure out why in the hell he was like this. He climbed onto the bike and pulled off, hoping a ride would calm him the way it always did.

 

Sirius took the long way home, through the winding country roads until it felt like the blood had returned to his body. He paused at the front door, letting it swing open, the hallway in front of him just reiterating quite how alone he felt. Remus had agreed to come back home with him, but somehow he had fucked that up too. Why had Remus been so bothered by the bike? Couldn’t he have just agreed to get an Uber back with him and now they could’ve been all entangled in his sheets by this point, but no. 

Sirius pulled out his phone, perhaps to text Lily to let her know he was home, or maybe even phone Euphemia to see if they were at home - maybe a long ride to the farm would help - but he was surprised to see a text from Remus there instead.

Get home alright?

Sirius’ fingers shook as he typed back, wondering how the other man could be so thoughtful after Sirius had told him to fuck off. Sirius slumped on the sofa and tucked himself into a corner, pulling the patchwork blanket over himself.

Yes.

Then, a second later, before he could censor his own fingers.

Are you back at the shop?

It felt like only a moment before Remus replied, but Sirius waited, with his eyes closed, for a moment before looking. The traffic moved on outside, buzzing past in afternoon traffic.

No.

Taking another deep breath, Sirius paused, fingers poised over the keyboard. All the words seemed stuck under the tip of his tongue, fingers jittering. He wanted to scream, he just wanted a normal day for once, to have a normal interaction with someone that wasn’t marred with all of his neuroses. 

Can I call you? Fingers shaking too much to type well.

A longer moment passed. Sirius reached for the coffee table, snatching up a water glass left there from the morning, and drained the glass. 

Yes.

Sirius wasted no time and hit the call button, holding his phone in both hands, quickly putting it on speaker phone so he could rest it on the sofa next to him instead of trying to hold it. It rang for only a second before the call connected on the other end.

“Sirius.”

“Moony…” 

There was a long sigh and Sirius heard the sounds of the street outside around Remus. 

“Come over? Get an Uber, or I’ll walk and meet you at the bus stop…” Sirius choked out, rubbing a hand over his face. I don’t want to be alone, he wanted to scream.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Padfoot…” Remus sighed. “We need to talk, and I don’t think we’d talk if I came over…”

“Is that a bad thing?” Sirius pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes and willed himself to stay present in the moment, not to shut off and pull back and pretend the world didn’t exist. Remus was right, they did need to talk, but that didn’t mean Sirius wanted to.

“Yes, that’s what we need to talk about isn’t it? And I can’t-” Remus chuckled, almost self depreciating. Sirius wished he could see his face, but he knew it would be harder to talk under the scrutiny of those amber eyes. “I can’t help myself around you.”

“You can’t?” Sirius lifted his head from his hands and peered at his phone as a replacement for giving Remus an incredulous look. 

“No, Jesus. You look at me like I’m a fucking Botticelli or something, Sirius. It’s damn hard not to just rip those ridiculous jeans off of you.” Remus said it so casually, out on the street where he was walking or waiting for a bus or something, but Sirius choked on his next breath.

“Oh… why can’t we do that?” Sirius’ voice came out sounding far off, his mind flooded with ideas of them doing just that, entwined together, Sirius mapping Remus’ body with his mouth, finding his way deep inside him, bringing them both to the glorious ends of pleasure over and over. Sirius bit his lip and closed his eyes.

There was a moments pause from the other end of the phone, and Sirius imagined Remus would be pinching the bridge of his nose before answering. “Because, we’re workmates. You’re technically my boss, aren’t you?” Sirius felt a kick at that. Was he? He never thought of it like that before - to him they were all co-workers - but Remus was right, he and James did own the shop. If that were the case, why did Sirius feel a spike of heat in the pit of his stomach at the idea? “And if we sleep together, it’ll be awkward. I’m not doing that to the shop, to my job, to your job. I’ve been telling myself that since I started.”

Sirius sighed, shifting on the sofa in an effort to stay still and not remove himself from the situation like the childish part of his brain wanted him to do, always trying to run away. “Maybe… but maybe it wouldn’t be? You know… we already did it once.” Sirius let out a long breath to keep the rush of bile at bay. He was so unused to sharing his feelings openly. It was easier when they weren’t face to face, but it was still hard. He wondered if Remus might be feeling the same.

“As good as that was,” Remus started, his voice low and almost intimate with the phone lying next to Sirius’ head. Sirius bit his lip not to interrupt - it was good, more than good, glorious in fact. “I don’t do relationships, Sirius.”

Ah, so his concerns were right. Remus wanted no-strings sex, which at the moment, sounded great, but Sirius knew that soon enough he would want all the little extras of a relationship rather than any kind of friends with benefits arrangements. He’d tried that once before with disastrous consequences. Sirius rubbed a hand over his face.

“And by your silence, you do?”

“Yeah,” Sirius willed his voice not to break, and he wasn’t too sure if it was convincing or not. “Yeah, I do.” Sirius took a deep breath. “Usually, anyway.” Maybe he could make an exception. He remembered how incredibly turned on he had been on Saturday, how good it had all felt even though they were both fully clothed. “Come over, Moony. Please. Or I’ll come to you. We can just talk or, whatever. I’m sorry I got mad at you in the car park, I didn’t mean to. I swear work won’t change, I swear I won’t make work awkward.” Sirius shifted down on the sofa, well aware now that Remus occasionally thought about ripping his clothes off. He felt like he was just spewing words; he didn’t know whether work would be awkward or not, but in the moment it was a risk he was willing to take. He was blissfully unaware of how manipulative he could be at times, but Sirius just wanted to not be alone, to feel something.

“Padfoot…” Remus sighed, but his voice was sinuous and low. Sirius felt his memory flash back to Saturday night, Remus pressed against him, the hard length of his erection against Sirius’ hip, the look of utter abandon on his face, that soft ‘oh’ before he came. 

“James and Lily won’t be home until later, or I can come to you, are your flatmates gonna be home?” Sirius shifted again, so close to just begging now they were separated by the phone line, able to just close his eyes and say what he wanted.

“Pads… I have no willpower around you… not now I know how you taste,” Remus hissed, and the sound shot straight to Sirius’ cock. 

“So? Come get a taste then.” Sirius felt another thrill. He never usually said anything like that, not unless he was already lost in the throes of pleasure, but there was something about Remus, something about the sound of his voice, the prospect of having him alone in the flat, in his bed. Another moment of pause, the sounds of street echoing on the other end of the phone.

“Stay there. I’ll be fifteen minutes.”

Notes:

Thank you all so much for reading and commenting and leaving kudos and making me a happy writer! I love you all <3

Chapter 14: Mercury

 

In the fifteen minutes after Remus had hung up, Sirius had paced a circle around the flat no less than ten times, had three cigarettes out of the living room window and spent at least five minutes staring at the bourbon on the shelf, wondering whether a few shots of liquid courage might help calm his nerves. He declined, eventually, deciding he would rather be sober and nervous than forget whatever might be coming in the next few hours. He wanted to try and be present, and not fly off the handle or over react or get the wrong end of the stick. And for Sirius over-the-top-drama-queen Black, that would be far more likely without any alcohol.

In the end he hooked the bluetooth speaker up to the record player, and set Electric Warrior playing, leaving the speakers by the bookcase outside his door. He didn’t want to set the speakers in his room, because maybe then Remus would assume they would have sex. But wasn’t that what he was coming over for? Sirius had asked him to ‘come get a taste’, at any rate, that seemed pretty obviously akin to ‘come over and we can fuck’. And Electric Warrior didn’t really help with that notion either - the entire album was full of sensuous slow songs that made Sirius’ hips move, the music reaching deep into his blood to wind around his limbs. He took a breath, leant against the doorframe to his room and let Mambo Sun sink into his skin. 

A sharp knock at the door drew him back from the music and Sirius crossed to the door on shaky legs, unsure if he was just going to grab Remus and kiss him senseless, or actually try and make small talk. He pulled open the door, knuckles white on the handle.

“Hi Moony,” he uttered, stepping aside to allow Remus to duck through the door. His amber eyes seemed even more piercing, ricocheting through Sirius’ insides. Sirius let the door swing shut behind them and nervously licked his lips. Neither of them said anything for a long moment, the silence flickering between them.

“Sirius…” Remus stepped closer, one hand still shoved in the pocket of his denim jacket, the other reaching out to curl fingers around Sirius’ wrist. Sirius’ eyes fluttered shut at the contact, the sharp, electrical heat that seemed to bounce between them. 

He let out a shaky sigh and swallowed, eyes flickering over Remus’ face for a minute before settling on the wall behind him. “I swear I was almost normal a couple of months ago… hadn’t seen any of my family for six months. You should’ve met me then…” Sirius muttered, with a note of humour in his voice, tight in the back of his throat, a chuckle almost following the words.

Remus smiled softly, one corner of his mouth quirking, the light catching the black of his lip ring. Sirius had a vivid memory of tasting the coolness of it under his tongue and nearly swayed on the spot. Remus closed the gap between them and put a hand on his shoulder, slowing sliding it around to cup the side of his neck. “You’re fine how you are, Padfoot.”

Sirius managed to shake his head, just a fraction, enough to dislodge a wisp of hair from his shoulders, as he closed the gap between them and popped onto his toes to press his lips to Remus’. The words lodged in his throat, any kind of meaningful reply just seemed to fade compared to the ability to kiss Remus. And Remus kissed back, almost instantly, stooping a little to account for the fact he was in thick-soled brogues and Sirius was barefoot, his arms winding around Sirius’ waist to pull them flush together. Sirius moaned at the contact, sliding his hands up to Remus’ upper arms to grip them tightly. He thought he would never tire of the feeling of Remus’ mouth against his, soft pink lips, the press of his lip ring, the swipe of his warm tongue, the metal of the piercing there amongst the cavern of his mouth. Sirius urged them backwards, coiling his tongue into Remus’ mouth, hands sliding over the lean strength of his arms and shoulders.

Remus broke the kiss with a soft gasp. One of his hands had found its way into the back pocket of Sirius’ tight black jeans, fingers digging in. “Sirius, you know I don’t, I can’t-” he groaned softly as Sirius ran his tongue over the swell of his bottom lip- “I can’t promise anything.”

Sirius just shook his head, pliant under Remus’ touch, desperate and hungry for whatever the other man could give him. He didn’t care what could happen, how things might, or might not, progress. He urged them backwards into his room, the sounds of Jeepster following them. “Then don’t promise anything. I just-” The words stuck under his tongue again, God he hated himself sometimes, the inability to say anything meaningful, to hide behind pranks or stupid japes or anything so long as it wasn’t the truth or painful or- “just want to… be here.” Be present, be in the moment, to forget, to lose it all. Cut my ropes, push me out of the harbour and into the sea, roiling, dark, unexpected, pull me under, let me sink with you.

Remus paused a little then, almost as if he were sensing what Sirius was trying to say, as if he caught the words that floated in the ether around them, understood them deeper than Sirius knew. He pinned Sirius with a look that sank deep into his bones, he felt it like a lightning bolt, through the top of his head, anchoring him to the ground, pulling him into the present. Sirius bit his lip and tightened his hands on Remus’ arms, even as his eyes practically burrowed into him, taking root there. After a moment, Remus nodded, slow and sure. He reached behind Sirius to push the bedroom door shut, then took Sirius’ face in both hands. 

A frown flickered across Sirius’ brow, grey eyes searching the face before him. “Moon-mmph.”

Remus’ kisses were hot and insistent, coaxing his way into Sirius’ mouth and exploring, not giving him an inch and just demanding, taking. Sirius melted into his arms, clinging to his shoulders and pressing into him as if he were the only thing keeping him alive right now. 

Sirius was usually utterly giving as a lover. It wasn’t a selfless act though, he just preferred being the one in control, the one keeping it all together and letting the other person unravel under his ministrations. But he had unraveled already, hadn’t he? Today had undone his stitching and pulled him apart and Remus was putting him back together, Remus was gathering all of his parts and pulling them back into a whole with his plundering mouth and insistent hands. 

Those hands seized the hem of his shirt, a relic from adolescence, a Queen shirt probably a size or two too small but Sirius couldn’t bare to throw it away, and pulled it up over Sirius’ head in one swift motion. He barely had a chance to blink before Remus’ mouth was back on his again, licking the seam of his lips, delving in to the taste of coffee and the sugary tang of donuts. Sirius didn’t have time to shudder against the sudden cold air before it was replaced by the warmth of Remus’ body, his hands on Sirius’ hips, pulling him back towards the bed. Sirius just went with him, stumbling forward, desperate and hungry, hands reaching up to card through Remus’ hair. 

Remus was everywhere all at once, all the long lines of him against Sirius, expert fingers at his belt, deft and sure and pulling the zipper of his jeans. Sirius wanted to say something, some wry quip to try and release some of the thickness in the air around them but all he could do was moan into Remus’ mouth, chase the soft pink pleasure of his tongue and gasp when Remus broke the kiss. He trailed languid kisses down Sirius’ jaw, hands pulling his jeans open and shoving them down his thighs along with his underwear. 

Sirius kicked his jeans away and shuddered anew as Remus’ hands went back to newly exposed skin. He held his hips at arms length and lifted his head from Sirius’ neck to run that amber gaze appraisingly over his body. Sirius could only watch, jaw lax, body shivering. He knew he was good-looking, he didn’t know the meaning of the word bashful, but Remus’ eyes seemed to pierce right through him.

“Christ, Padfoot…” Remus hissed in that voice that went straight to Sirius’ cock. The other man grinned wolfishly when it twitched in anticipation. “You’re a fucking work of art, you know that?”

“Moony,” was all Sirius managed to choke out, feeling too undone already, too exposed in a way that was nothing to do with his nakedness. Maybe he didn’t want to be unmoored after all, maybe his tenuous grip on reality and sanity needed to stay firmly rooted in his neurosis, maybe his need to worry incessantly was such a part of his personality that if he took it out he would fall like a house of cards. But he was already so ripped apart he couldn’t do anything, swept up against the current. He stepped closer, hands clenching back in Remus’ hair. He needed this, desperately clinging to auburn-gold curls and the prospect of skilled hands making everything else fade away.

“So fucking gorgeous,” Remus muttered, amber eyes lifting to Sirius’ face a moment before he tugged him closer and fastened their mouths together again. “C’mere,” he whispered against Sirius’ mouth and he could do nothing but oblige, climbing into Remus’ lap with a knee either side of his hips, ever-hardening erection pressed between them. 

Remus shifted back, hands trailing down Sirius’ back, the backs of his thighs. Sirius arched into him, all pliant warm honey, and Remus’ hands gripped the back of his knees, turning and depositing him firmly on the bed before crawling up over him, like a wild animal over its prey. Sirius moaned softly, so unused to being the responsive one, the one quivering and shaking and oh, he was so fucked already, as Remus’ fingers curled around the base of his cock. 

Sirius made a keening sound in the back of his throat and threw his head back onto the pillows. Remus just grinned and licked a stripe of white-hot pleasure down the column of Sirius’ throat, stroking his fist over Sirius’ length in lazy, long pulls. Sirius found one hand clenched in the bedsheets by his side, gripping desperately to stop the world pitching to the side, the other on Remus’ forearm, holding equally tight. Remus mouthed his way down over Sirius’ chest, the hard curves of his pectorals, the black dog there rumbling with satisfaction and anticipation, the swirl of his tongue, the scrape of his teeth leaving red tracks in their way between all the colours. The soothing warmth of his mouth against his shuddering muscles, the portrait of Freddie Mercury around his ribs, the roses trailing over his abdomen, the Reckless between the sharp v-shape of his hips and Sirius drifted out with the tide. Remus shifted between his legs - Sirius wantonly let them fall open to assist him - and grinned up at Sirius for a second before the flat of his tongue swirled around the tip of Sirius’ length. And oh fuck, his tongue piercing, his lip ring, the rasp of cool metal against sensitive flesh, Sirius nearly came then at the sensation of it all.

“Oh- f-fuck, fuck, Moony.”

Remus just chuckled, one hand sliding up Sirius’ thigh, appreciative, almost loving, and Sirius keened desperately, hips jerking. Remus hummed happily, his hand stroking up and down Sirius’ thigh, the other still sliding over his length, deliciously in time with the movement of his tongue over Sirius’ cock, laving that damn tongue piercing over every sensitive millimetre. Eyes glittering and dancing, Remus held Sirius’ gaze for a moment, before he took him in his mouth with an utter lack of pomp or circumstance.

Sirius let out a long breath in a last-ditch attempt not to come right there, polish-tipped fingers sliding to Remus’ hair, not pulling or pushing but gripping and holding on so fucking tight. He was torn somewhere between closing his eyes and letting the tide take him, out in the ocean of not giving a shit and fuck, that felt so good, or watching Remus and every glorious facet of him, helpless under his fingers and his hands and - Christ, that mouth.

But his brain was still whirring, kicking into overdrive and trying to analyse and parse and fuck, fuck, fuck he was close already, that building fire in the pit of his stomach, abdominals clenching, thighs quivering and Remus, Remus, Remus still working him over so thoroughly he hadn’t even come yet and he thought he might’ve gone blind.

“Moony- Moons,” Sirius whimpered, fingers clenching in his hair. Remus made a humming noise of assent and that nearly undid Sirius. He hissed out a breath before he could manage to speak again, just barely able to stop fucking up into Remus’ mouth like every fibre of his being wanted. “I”m, I- If you want to do anything else, I’m- fuck, fuck-“

Sirius could’ve cried when Remus swiftly pulled off of him and sat back on his heels, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. He looked glorious, lips pink, eyes dark with desire, but Sirius was too close to the edge and worrying if he had done something horrifically wrong. He tried to sit up to meet Remus halfway, but the other man crawled up over him and lightly pushed his shoulders back onto the mattress.

“Shut up,” Remus chided, his voice gentle and teasing and warm and it did horrible, beautiful things to Sirius’ insides. He kissed him deeply, tongue swiping Sirius’ bottom lip in a filthy mirror of his earlier actions. He pulled back as Sirius shuddered for another breath. “Stop thinking, stop worrying. Don’t spoil it.”

Sirius just managed to nod, hips canting up to seek out any semblance of friction against Remus’ jeans. Remus knelt back again, reached between his shoulder blades to pull off his jumper, and Sirius barely had time to register his disappointment that he was still wearing a thin t-shirt underneath, before he was lost in the hot, wet vacuum of Remus’ mouth.

Sirius stopped thinking then, back bowed off the mattress, hips mindlessly grinding up into Remus’ mouth, jaw slack, fingers working through Remus’ curls, so, so tactile, everything so overwhelming. Remus hummed happily, tongue swirling, fingers stroking the soft skin of his balls, the tender spot just behind, bringing Sirius to the edge, keening and yelping, but easing off right at the brink. Sirius was too gone to protest, just whimper until Remus built him back up again, and again, until Sirius was boneless and utterly wrecked and his brain was nothing but mush, every inch of him liquid and not thinking of a single thing except the all-encompassing pleasure of Remus. 

He came with something akin to a scream, Remus’ throat working around him to eek out every last bit of pleasure as Sirius whimpered on the slow descending arc of his orgasm, stretching out to the horizon, meeting with the ocean. And Sirius was floating, finally unmoored, adrift in a storm, the current raging around him but he was in the centre, the waves lapping gently at his skin, shuddering through every tremor of orgasmic bliss. 

Remus only pulled back when Sirius sank back into the bed with another boneless murmur of satisfaction, and moved up to lay beside him once Sirius tugged softly at his hair to pull him closer. 

“You okay?” Remus hummed, concern threading his words, his voice vaguely hoarse, one arm braced on the pillow next to Sirius’ head, and it was only then he realised tears were trickling from the corners of his eyes, down into the hair at his temples. Remus leant over and brushed the sweat-damp hair back from Sirius’ forehead, then thumbed away the tears at his temple with concern shining in his amber eyes.

Sirius’ brain was quiet, lulled into submission by deft fingers and a skilful mouth and everything that was Remus and even crying didn’t feel painful. Sirius was vaguely aware of the dog at his sternum quivering, but it was not awful and ripping, it was like a flood of emotion leaving his body and draining out somewhere like Remus swallowing him whole, right to the root, every drop. Sirius nodded. “I’m okay, I’m okay…”

Sirius turned his head into Remus’ shoulder, warm and sharp, resonantly here, and Sirius was vaguely ashamed of the wet spots blossoming on the sleeve of his shirt before Remus gathered him into his arms. He stayed there, face in Remus’ neck, breathing in the taste of his skin and his pulse, so reassuring and here, not quite crying but shuddering with it all until he came back to himself again, kissing the tender angle of Remus’ neck. Remus made a soft sound in the back of his throat, something akin to the rumbling of a growl, pressing his mouth in Sirius’ hair, and stroked his fingers down Sirius’ spine. The whole motion of it struck Sirius’ insides like molten lead, heavy and hot. Sirius tightened his hand on Remus’ shoulder and nipped at the tender skin above his pulse. Remus gave another sound, surer, echoing into his beautiful mouth. 

Sirius turned towards the sound and lifted his head from Remus’ neck to give him a muzzy smile. “Why aren’t you naked?” He vaguely registered Remus’ returning smile through his slowly sharpening vision and found Remus’ arm braced near his head. Sirius moved forward and slid his tongue over the soft raised skin of one of the pink scars on his forearm, out of place from the rest of his tribal scarification. “Want to see all these scars, Moons…” His voice slipped out of soft post-coital haze and into the low tremors of seduction. 

Something flickered over Remus’ face then, just a soft moment of tension, the furrow of his brow, a flash of something painful, but then it was gone, a small smile in its place. Sirius didn’t notice it, and walked his fingers down the planes of Remus’ abdomen to pull at his t-shirt. 

“Want to make you feel good too,” Sirius continued, brain still fuzzy and mercifully quiet behind the trickle of pleasure, Remus’ body warm against his, limbs still deliciously sore and heavy. Sirius curled his fingers into the hem of Remus’ t-shirt, pulling it up to expose his stomach. Remus was still for a second before he sat up and allowed Sirius to pull his shirt off and drop it somewhere. 

Remus was tanned all over, lightly golden, the scarification on his forearms silver-white, that same silver-white in a splash of sacred geometry over his diaphragm that trembled under Sirius’ exploring fingers. 

Sirius was right, he was pierced all over, a golden ring through his navel, a silver bar through one pink, taut nipple. He soon spotted the soft pink scars though, one over his hip, one biting deep into his shoulder, up his arms, a strange paradox to the smooth sharp white lines of the intentional scarring. Sirius bit his lip, moving a little to trace the line of one scar with the tip of his tongue.

Remus shuddered underneath him, one hand gripping the nape of his neck. “Padfoot…”

Sirius swallowed, wanting desperately to ask where those scars might be from, only partly because he was incredibly nosy, but mostly wanting to know everything about Remus, the same way Remus had crawled into his mind and calmed the cawing of the crows, he wanted to know. “Moons…” 

Sirius felt splayed open, pinned on a piece of Bristol board, right through his middle, all open and raw and exposed, ribs broken, chest cavity there to see, for Remus to delve into and emerge with his heart. He wanted the same for Remus, some strange catharsis to dive into this enigmatic man who just took him apart so skilfully. The words came out before he had really thought on them, impulsive now his brain was quiet. “What happened?”

Chapter 15: Compass Points

 

Remus sighed softly, stilling Sirius’ lazy exploration of his torso with his own fingers. Sirius noted somewhere in his mind that they were shaking, but he wasn’t sure if it were him or Remus. After a moment, amber eyes searching his face, Remus sat up. Sirius shifted to his side, crossing his legs and watching Remus lean forward, elbows on his knees.

He noticed it straight away, how couldn’t he? He had felt it under his fingers on Saturday night but hadn’t realised what it was. A large blistered scar sat between Remus’ shoulder blades, circular and mottled, raised and red, with angry, bubbling skin, the uneven hue of skin grafts. It was surrounded by a silver scar, intentional, shearing off the edges and turning it into a perfect circle. He noticed that first, then the crescent moons either side, intentional scarring again. Sirius cocked his head, shifting fully to sit behind Remus, and realised it was a full moon. “Moony, huh?”

Remus just nodded, and Sirius saw the shudder of tense muscles across his shoulders. His voice was low but firm, speaking more into his lap than out in the room where Sirius could hear properly. “I don’t exactly show them off, but I don’t go out of my way to hide them…” He swallowed and Sirius shifted a little, his heart lodged in his throat. He ran his fingertips over the jut of Remus’ shoulder blade, sliding over towards the scar. “Don’t touch it.” Remus’ voice came out harsh, just behind his teeth. It softened instantly, “please.”

Sirius just nodded, sliding his fingers down the ridges of his spine down to his lower back. There were dimples, like he hoped, soft shadows above the waistband of his jeans, tantalising. “I was hoping those dimple piercings were you, Moons…” Anything to draw attention away from the elephant in the room. Sirius didn’t quite know how to handle it, turned out he wasn’t very good at emotional talking either. 

Remus chuckled then, and it sounded beautiful, musical and lyrical and husky, cigarette smoke and coffee and biting wit. His voice was short though, tight behind his teeth again, and Sirius could see the muscles in his shoulders bunching with each breath. “Not me, I can get them, if you like?”

“You can give them to me, if you like?” Sirius countered, leaning forward to press a kiss to the bottom of his shoulder bone. He pressed his forehead to Remus’ shoulder, waiting, wondering if Remus would elaborate, if he felt as splayed open, ribs broken, as Sirius did. If they were both there in this moment of pain, la petite mort breaking them both apart but knitting them together somehow.

“It’s nothing really,” Remus whispered, turning his head to watch Sirius’ grey eyes burning into him. “A long time ago.” His words came haltingly, each word speared up out of his throat, and Sirius shifted up onto his knees to press a kiss to the centre of the lotus across the nape of his neck. “I was in an accident… car accident, well… bike accident, really.” 

Synapses fired at the base of Sirius’ skull, like the crackle of electricity over his skull. That was why Remus had refused to get on his bike. Sirius stayed still, careful not to touch the moon shimmering between his shoulders. “I’m sorry… were you riding? Or just a passenger?”

Remus’ muscles hardened under his mouth again. “I’d rather not talk about it, Padfoot…”

Sirius nodded again, shifting around to Remus’ side and letting him sink back into the pillows. Something was lost between them. Sirius was unmoored, his ropes were cut but it was like Remus wasn’t with him anymore, not like he was a moment before, when Sirius could feel Remus holding him afloat. Sirius was adrift, and in the worst way. Aching to get that togetherness back, he leant down to kiss him, slow and languid, tongue drifting over the metal of his piercing. He didn’t think he had a thing for piercings but Remus was rapidly proving him wrong with all the metal threaded through all the beautiful bits of him. But Remus still felt tense underneath him, shoulders high and drawn together, breath not quite reaching the depths of his chest. Sirius ran a hand through Remus’ hair and pulled back enough to murmur against his mouth. “Do you want to put your shirt back on?”

Remus let out a long, slow, deliberate breath that Sirius felt, his fingers resting over the scarification at his diaphragm. After a moment, all the tension seemed to slide from his body and something verging on a smile flickered over his face. “No, it’s okay.”

Sirius pushed him back a little more insistently at that, moving around and shifting forward to crawl over him with a leg either side of his waist. He was patently aware he was naked and Remus was still in those damn drainpipe jeans, all fitted to his thighs and just grazing his ankles. Sirius ran a hand through Remus’ hair, catching on the curls, and smiled warmly. He could feel Remus’ erection pressing against the back of his thigh, hot and hard even through the jeans, as he leant forward to press his forehead against Remus’.

“I’m not looking at the scars, Moons. I only see you.”

And it might’ve been too close, just a hair past the appropriate level of affectionate for a hook up, for a workmate, for the man who said he didn’t do relationships but how could he think that when he’d just unraveled Sirius like nothing ever had before? Softness flickered across Remus’ face, the light of a passing car reflected into the room and gathered up in the honeyed pools of his eyes. Sirius leant forward and ran his tongue over the cool, copper tang of his lip ring. 

Remus tangled his fingers through Sirius’ hair, knotted and mussed, and tugged him closer to press their lips together. Sirius yielded at once, parting his lips against Remus’, the slide of his tongue and oh, he definitely had a thing for piercings now even if he didn’t before.

Sirius’ hand trailed down over the planes of his chest, to explore all this newly exposed territory whilst Remus kissed the living daylights out of him, possessive and firm. His fingers stopped at one taut nipple, the bar through it. Sirius gave an experimental tug on the bar, not too hard, but Remus hissed sharply into the kiss, his hips stuttering up towards Sirius. Sirius chuckled softly into the kiss and Remus bit his bottom lip in recompense, but one hand slid to his arse and squeezed to pull him closer. So Sirius repeated the motion, nudging the bar through the piercing, and grinning wide when Remus outright moaned in response.

“I like this,” Sirius muttered against his mouth, before shifting to the side and laving his tongue down the line of Remus’ jaw. Remus just chuckled in response, throat tight with desire. Even the scar tissue of the mandala by his ear felt glorious under Sirius’ tongue, his fingers giving one last tug to the bar at his nipple before trailing down over the scarification at his diaphragm. Sirius made a soft murmur of appreciation at the flutter of breath he felt in Remus’ stomach, now kissing his way down Remus’ neck. 

Remus was like a treasure trove, every angle of him revealing something new for exploration, the various bits of metal threaded through him, the beautiful silver-white scars. Sirius realised exactly what Remus was doing when his fingers simply skimmed over one of the raised pink scars in favour of the ring at his navel. Remus couldn’t do anything about the scars from the accident, but he could own them, turn the act of scarring into something he loved, something that held more attention. And it worked, Sirius didn’t care about the pink scars, too entranced by every other bit of intentional modification Remus had heaped on his body. They didn’t make the scars disappear, but it was more symbolic than that - something Remus disliked turned to art. Sirius understood that, tattooing had done that for a while - the permanent discolouration at the back of his thighs had been easily covered by some black work James spent hours working into his skin. 

Sirius knew what it was like to have ownership of his body returned to him. 

Remus tilted his chin back to bare his throat to Sirius, and his breath hitched at the sight of the bar at his clavicle, catching all the light just like his eyes. Sirius leant down and swirled his tongue in a languid arc over the spot. 

Remus moaned softly, the sound rumbling through his throat under Sirius’ mouth. “Padfoot…” He tightened his hold on Sirius, one hand in his hair, the other on his flank, but Sirius didn’t care.

“This one’s my favourite,” he murmured with another circle of his tongue, watching Remus’ throat bob with a swallow. He reached down between them, over the expanses of lightly tanned skin, to palm the length of Remus’ cock through his jeans.

“Mine too,” Remus shot back, voice thick with desire, and Sirius glanced up to see a smirk playing on his lips, “now you’re doing that.” 

Sirius’ fingers felt defter than they had in weeks as they undid the buttons of Remus’ jeans and slid under the waistband of his underwear. Of course, Sirius thought despairingly as he wrapped a hand around Remus’ cock. Of course it was huge and just added another bullet point to Sirius’ list of growing infatuation with Remus. And the list only seemed to grow the longer Remus was writhing underneath him, gorgeous moans coming from that gorgeous mouth. 

Sirius grinned to himself, now scraping his teeth over the sharp edge of Remus’ collarbone - to another gorgeous moan - and sliding his hand up Remus’ length to brush a thumb over the head. But his fingers stuttered at the sensation of metal just underneath it. Sirius immediately sat up and shot Remus an incredulous look.

Remus grinned back, mirth playing in his eyes. He looked so damn hot already, a flush high on his cheeks, teeth resting on that damn lip ring. He raised an eyebrow at Sirius as a soft chuckle spilled from his lips. Sirius shifted a little, reaching over to pull Remus’ jeans and underwear together from his hips. Remus lifted his hips to help him, still chuckling softly at the way Sirius was practically pawing at his clothes and trying to unwrap him like a bloody Christmas present. 

Sirius finally tugged pushed Remus’ jeans from his feet and promptly shoved them away. He sat back on his heels with a grin and wrapped his fingers around Remus’ length again, thumb just touching the metal bar that sat just beneath the under of the head.

“Of course you’ve got your fucking dick pierced, Moony…” Sirius breathed through a chuckle, gently touching his thumb to one of the balls on the end of the barbell.

Remus chuckled, propping himself onto his elbows to watch the rapt expression on Sirius’ face. “Wouldn’t want to fall short of expectations.”

Sirius circled his thumb over the piercing again, watching a shudder of desire flit across Remus’ face. He shifted to the side a little, other hand sliding over the alluring jut of Remus’ hipbone, before licking his lips. He’d never been with anyone with a piercing down there before, and he was pretty bloody intrigued. “May I?” He muttered, eyes flickering up from Remus’ cock to look at him properly, idly moving his fist.

Remus choked out a laugh, eyelids fluttering at the sensation of Sirius’ fingers. “Jesus Christ, Pads. I’ve just had you down my throat, do you have to ask?”

Sirius chuckled, shrugged one shoulder as an answer and leant down to circle his tongue over the piercing, watching Remus carefully. The piercing was warm under his tongue, which Sirius didn’t quite expect for some reason, and the taste of it went straight to his insides.

“F- Fucking hell-” Remus stuttered, obviously fighting the urge to close his eyes in favour of watching Sirius. 

Sirius, well aware he was being watched, flashed a grin and licked a flat stripe from base to tip, swirling over the piercing and up over the slit, before taking Remus into his mouth. The piercing felt different, sliding against his tongue, but it definitely wasn’t an unpleasant sensation. And judging by the look on Remus’ face, it wasn’t just for aesthetic purposes. Remus leant forward, the motion inadvertently pushing his cock further into Sirius’ mouth, but Sirius couldn’t care, and ran his fingers through Sirius’ hair. He pulled slightly, gathering the strands away from Sirius’ face and clenching at the crown of his head. Sirius moaned in response, the soft pull of his fingers, the slide of the scar tissue at his wrist against Sirius’ temple. He half-expected Remus to yank his hair, push him further onto his cock but he didn’t, just held on tight enough for Sirius to feel it, and yet still be able to bob his head. He was glad for it - he didn’t appreciate that kind of dominance even in the heated moment of passion - and swallowed Remus deeper, the piercing at the back of his throat. Sirius’ eyes fluttered shut to the sound of Remus moaning, eager to catalogue what every swipe of his tongue, every hollow of his cheeks earned him. 

 Sirius’ free hand slid up over Remus’ stomach, to find the bar at his nipple, circling a thumb over it, deliciously in time with a swipe of his tongue over the bar in his mouth. He was endlessly curious to see what would happen, and instantly felt Remus stiffen against him.

“Ah- fuck, Padfo- fuck!”

Sirius opened his eyes just in time to be graced with his favourite of Remus’ expressions, the soft pitch of his eyebrows, teeth bared on his lip ring, caught somewhere deliciously painful as he spilled down Sirius’ throat. Sirius hummed in response, swallowing eagerly and delighting in the shudders that wracked through Remus’ body, trying to commit the moment to memory. Sirius kept up his languorous rhythm until Remus’ fingers loosened in his hair, and slowly pulled back, tonguing the metal of the piercing on his way.

Remus’ hips canted up as the aftershock jolted through him. “Fuck, Pads. Jesus, warn a man when you’re gonna do that!”

Sirius chuckled and wiped his mouth on his upper arm before leaning down and touching the tip of his tongue to the piercing again. “What, this?”

“Fuck! Christ, yes, get back up here, will you?” Remus shuddered, tugging at Sirius’ hair until he obliged and crawled up over his prone form. Sirius settled to his side, one arm thrown across his stomach, resting his head on the pillow next to Remus’. 

Sirius smiled softly, still basking in the afterglow of his own orgasm, still feeling his seams being stitched back together, wondering if Remus felt it too. This was a different kind of vision quest, similar to the miracle-working of tattooing or piercing or watching art come to life under their hands but so different, watching the other man bloom beneath them. Sirius felt put together, limbs languid and loose and that voice in his head still mercifully quiet. 

He reached over Remus and snagged his cigarettes from the bedside table, pulling two out and offering one to Remus. The other man took it between his lips and leant in to the proffered light, cupping his fingers around the flame and watching Sirius do the same. Sirius grinned and took a long, grateful drag on his cigarette as his head fell back against the pillows. This was bliss. He’d forgotten just how good it all felt, naked and entangled, watching the smoke idly curl up to the ceiling. It had been too long since he’d taken anyone to bed, even if it were only sex and not something more like he would’ve preferred. After a moment, holding his cigarette to the side, Sirius leant forward and pressed a kiss to Remus’ jaw before ducking his head to the clavicle piercing and tracing it lightly with his tongue. 

“This is still my favourite,” Sirius muttered, pressing a kiss over it before sinking back into the pillows.

Remus muttered something and shifted his limbs against the sheets. “Careful, or I’ll need you to do that again.” He grinned, not opening his eyes to take a draw of his cigarette, and tightened his other arm around Sirius’ shoulders. 

Sirius chuckled softly. He probably would as well, with a little convincing. He was damn tired, he’d gotten so little sleep over the weekend, and meeting his family always took it out of him, never mind the mind-blowing sex of the past 30 minutes… But still, it would probably only take a few well-placed kisses from Remus and he would be raring to go again. Sirius settled back, the white noise of the record player just drifting over to them, and stared at Remus’ arm around his shoulder. The contrast of his silver-white scars and Sirius’ brightly painted skin was arresting, and he couldn’t quite look away.

Remus leant over to stub his cigarette out and pushed his hair back from his forehead. “I need to go, Padfoot.”

Sirius nodded, pushing himself upright and wiggling his toes to get the feeling back. He knew he shouldn’t expect Remus to hang around, Remus had told him as much, he didn’t do relationships, he didn’t do any kind of commitment or expectation. Sirius had agreed, but now it left a bad taste in his mouth, as he knew it would. He had just wanted so badly to forget, to sink into Remus, and he had got that, hadn’t he? So why did he want to just hold onto Remus and refuse to let him go? 

“Alright.” Sirius nodded, stubbing his cigarette out before pushing his hair back from his face and stretching his arms up over his head.

Remus’ amber eyes flickered over him appreciatively, but the other man stood up and cast about for his clothes. Sirius shuffled over to the edge of the bed and snagged his boxers up from the floor, pulling them on to avoid just watching Remus and the alluring curve of his arse when he bent to pull those damn jeans on. And Sirius didn’t even notice all the scars, the particularly thick one that ran the length of one thigh, the shining full moon between his shoulders. Remus straightened up to see him staring, and another moment of vulnerability passed over his face.

“I’d… um, appreciate it, if you didn’t mention the… accident to James or Lily?” He muttered after pulling on his jumper, patently avoiding Sirius’ gaze.

Sirius stood and nodded. “You have my word, won’t say a thing.”

Remus nodded, relief washing over his face, and snagged his shoes from beside the bed where he’d kicked them off earlier. Sirius stayed in his boxers, he was going to go for a shower anyway and didn’t particularly see the point in pulling his clothes back on. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow at work?” Remus said once he was fully clothed, and Sirius almost felt jealous at the way he could just step back into normality after what had transpired between them. But then, Remus said he was used to this, he didn’t do relationships, he didn’t do getting involved, so this was probably normal for him. He probably shagged his friends and went straight back to his normal life without wondering how it would be between them when he couldn’t stop thinking about the other one pressed against him. Because he probably didn’t, did he? 

Sirius felt a shudder at the idea of Remus not caring whether they got together again. Would it be a one-time thing? Or was this regular now? Could Sirius drag Remus back into his bed whenever either of them felt it again, the desperate pull to have the other coming undone beneath them? Did he even feel that as Sirius did?

Sirius shook his shoulders, disgruntled that the voice in his head was already back in full-force, and smiled a hopefully-convincing smile. “Sure. See you tomorrow, it’s my turn to get breakfast, what do you fancy?” 

Remus paused at the front door, grinning. Sirius felt a wave of lightheadedness, God how could he resist just kissing the living daylights out of him, that damn tongue piercing caught the light every time he smiled. “Ooh, surprise me.”

Sirius gave him a mock-salute as he pulled open the front door to allow Remus out. “Roger that, see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow Pads, take care.” Remus grinned, saluted him back, and Sirius watched him descend down the stairs and back out into the street. 

Sirius let the door swing shut, heaved a sigh and dragged himself into the shower, trying not to think of metal threaded through all the gorgeous parts of Remus. 

Notes:

I adore reading all your comments. They genuinely make my day better - and it's been a rough one so far! - so comments are wholly and utterly appreciated and I definitely don't tear up reading them! 🖤

Chapter 16: Antler Velvet

 

Sirius slept well that night, not unsurprisingly after probably the most satisfying orgasm of his life, and was at the breakfast table before either James or Lily the next morning. He felt reasonably put together, dressed and nursing a sugary cup of tea. He had Instagram in the other hand, finally feeling okay enough to open his social media and scroll through the endless notifications. There were a few posts from his friends, one from Dorcas he paused to comment a few fire emojis on, and another Lily had tagged him in of a few weeks ago at Heaven. He paused at a post of Remus’ though. He was outside the shop, lighting a cigarette with James casually reclining next to him. Sirius felt the sharp thrust of desire in the pit of his stomach and closed his eyes briefly against it. He had hoped that one night of passion with Remus would’ve reset him a little, would’ve scratched the itch and now he could move on. But it didn’t quite work. He still felt like throwing the other man down onto his bed and fucking him senseless, but it didn’t seem like it would boil over any more. Maybe it had been sated a little, even if it was still there. Sirius groaned and took a long drink of his tea.

“Holy shit, Padfoot… you’re up. And you’ve-” James stepped into the kitchen to see a pot of tea steeping on the side- “made tea? Christ, you alright?”

Sirius chuckled and rolled his eyes, tapping away on Instagram. “I’m fine, I just actually slept well last night.” Sirius closed his phone and slid it into his pocket, glancing across the kitchen to check the time. He’d need to head off soon to go via the bakery at the other end of the high street to get pastries for breakfast.

“Oh yeah,” James replied, pouring himself a cup of tea. “Lily mentioned that you and Moo-”

“Oi!” Lily came into the living room like a whirlwind, smacking James on the back of the head. “You weren’t meant to say anything about that!” She sat at the dining room table to pull on her shoes, oblivious to the incredulous look Sirius was giving her.

James immediately looked sheepish and moved away to grab the milk from the fridge. “Shit… sorry.” He gave Sirius a wide-eyed look that really did convey his apologies - Sirius had seen that look often enough back in school when they had gotten caught for pranks, or when Minnie had decided they were slacking off too much and made them scrub the floors on their hands and knees.

Sirius groaned and set his mug down. “Yeah… fucking, really, Lils?”

Lily just shrugged as she tied her laces. “I thought you’d be happy? You two fancy the pants off each other, don’t you?”

James slid his wife a cup of tea and sank into the seat next to Sirius. “Apparently I don’t notice these things, she said it was kinda obvious. You know neither of us would care as long as everything was professional. We want you to be happy, mate.”

“Yeah, well,” Sirius muttered into his hands, “Moony ‘doesn’t do relationships’, so it’s not going to go anywhere.”

“Oh,” Lily sipped her tea and gave Sirius a look of sympathy that he wasn’t quite sure if he wanted or not. It set his insides swirling and he kind of wanted to just wail and complain and descend back into adolescence. “That sucks…”

“Yeah, well, we still kinda slept together so I guess that’s a good thing?” Sirius’ voice lifted at the end, it seemed he was questioning his own decisions now too. 

Lily and James gave each other a look, James lifting one eyebrow and Lily frowning deeply.

“That’s not like you, Pads.” Lily set her cup down and reached across the table for Sirius’ hand. He quickly drew it back and pushed his chair away to stand up.

“Nah, it’s fine. Maybe it is like me now? I’m okay with it, really. And we swore it wouldn’t be weird, so there we go.” Sirius reached back down and snatched up his mug to drain the last of his tea. He set it down to see both James and Lily looking at him incredulously. “Listen, Prongs, Lils. I really am okay with it, I wouldn’t have gone with him if I wasn’t. And things can’t be weird, so we all pretend nothing happened, right?” He pointed a finger at each of them in turn and waited for a murmur of agreement. “Good. I need to go get pastries. See you at the shop?”

James nodded. “Alright, mate, see you there.” Sirius didn’t miss the look James gave his wife, a half-shrug of just leave it that Lily assented to - James knew Sirius best after all. Sirius sighed and headed out of the flat, grabbing his jacket and helmet on the way, grateful for the bike beneath him. 

 

When Sirius arrived at the shop, James, Lily and Remus were already within, milling about and preparing for what was looking to be quite a busy Wednesday. Sirius smiled and found it wasn’t too put-on, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad with Remus after all. Maybe things in general would be easier now he had let off steam and he wouldn’t be so easily distracted wondering what it would be like to kiss Moony, now he really knew. Perhaps everything was a little easier with a good night’s sleep under his belt, and although he felt lost after Remus had left last night, it wasn’t like he needed a relationship. He was fine by himself, he had been fine for years, God knows he didn’t have time for a relationship outside of work. Maybe the uneasy spike in his stomach would abate, and things could settle down to the four of them being friends without any strange tension.

“Pastries everyone!” Sirius sang as he burst through the door, holding the box of pastries high above his head like a crown. Lily grinned and cleared a space on the desk for the box. James scooted his chair away from the artwork he was finishing and rubbed his hands together in glee.

“I got a few of everything, figured we can just eat them throughout the day?” Sirius mused as he set the pastries down, smiling at Remus, who was coming out of the office with his hands full of various tea mugs. He set them down and slid one across to Sirius, who took a grateful drink.

“Morning, Padfoot.” 

“Morning Moons, alright?” Sirius flipped the top of the box of pastries, startled to find out, in fact, that everything felt pretty normal between them. It didn’t at all feel like Sirius had his tongue around Remus’ dick piercing just over twelve hours ago. Maybe everything would be okay, then. Maybe it was a one-time thing, and actually, he was fine with that. Or maybe if it did dissolve into another night - or afternoon - or morning - or hell, lunchtime - of passion, then great. 

Remus grinned and reached over to snag an apple turnover from the box. “Alright, better now you’ve brought pastries. Good choice Pads.”

Sirius grinned and shucked his jacket off on the way to his space at the workbench. “Let it never be said I don’t spoil you three,” he hummed, sliding into his seat and getting started on finishing up the artwork for his first client.

After a second, James threw him a pen and caught his eye with a look that spoke through a decade of friendship. You alright? Sirius smiled back and nodded, genuinely meaning it, before plucking a pain au chocolat out of the pastry box.

Maybe he was genuinely alright. True, he absolutely, categorically would not turn down another roll in the hay with Remus, but it didn’t seem all-encompassing anymore, it didn’t seem like he was about to choke on thin air if he couldn’t just throw himself against the other man. Sirius shrugged to himself and set about doing his job. 

 

At lunchtime, Lily came bouncing into the room clutching her phone and looking pretty excited. Sirius was sat on the workbench, trying to dig his elbow into a knot in James’ shoulder. Back pain at 24 years old was probably the saddest thing about their profession, always hunched over tables and bodies and contorted into various positions. Thankfully, Sirius nor James had any qualms about personal space - it was probably sharing dorms at Eton that did it really - and any breaks were usually spent digging at each others sore muscles.

James grunted into a comically large mug of tea and tried to roll his shoulder against Sirius’ elbow. The whole scene was commonplace between the two of them, and usually prompted funny looks from any regulars who walked in to see it.

“Hey, I’m good with needles, want me to try some acupuncture on it?” Remus said from over the top of another pastry, watching the two of them with mirth dancing in his amber eyes.

“Really?” James replied, lifting his head to pin Remus with a curious look.

Remus held his eye-line for a second before hiding a snort of laughter behind his croissant. “Jesus Christ, no, Prongs. I mean, I can put a needle in it, but I’m pretty sure it’ll make it worse rather than better.” 

James regarded him for a second before shrugging his other shoulder. “… I’m game for anything right now?”

Lily drew their attention with a loud ahem, and Sirius looked up to see her, one hand on her hip, looking every bit the matriarch of the shop.

“Potter, please, for the love of God, don’t ask Moony to stab you with needles… Moony, please, don’t encourage him. Padfoot…” Lily quirked an eyebrow. “You’ll disregard whatever I say anyway, but at least try and remember James’ being alive and well is helpful for both of us?”

Sirius grinned and gave his sister-in-law a salute, digging with renewed vigour into James’ shoulder. James grumbled back into his mug and Remus promptly laughed, to which James responded by flipping him the bird.

Lily watched them all for a moment with a bemused and mildly exasperated look on her face before clapping her hands to draw their attention. “Anyway, before I got distracted trying to save you all from getting yourselves killed, I came with exciting news!”

“Ooh?” Sirius pulled back from the pressure on James’ back to wrap an arm around his shoulders and give Lily a look of interest instead. “Do tell?”

“I’ve been talking to the promoters of Primavera Sound in Barcelona.” Lily paused for dramatic effect and Sirius felt a grin bloom across his lips. “They want us to come to the festival, do a few promos on Instagram, that kind of stuff, wear some pieces from their sponsors’ clothing line. I got us six VIP tickets, so, us four, and I thought Marlene and Dorcas, so I don’t get overwhelmed by testosterone. What do you think?” 

“Shit… that’s awesome. Hell yeah we’ll go!” James finally put his mug of tea down and leant back in to Sirius. “When is it again?”

“30^th of May,” Lily supplied, completely unperturbed by the two men cuddling up, and instead went to sit next to Remus at the desk. She reached past him to retrieve another pastry and smiled at him when he slotted his arm around her shoulders. Somewhere along the line of a month or so of working together, they had all become fast friends. That must be what working in close quarters did for people.

“The 30^th!?” Sirius sat up, eyes wide. “You mean I only have a month to curate the perfect festival wardrobe?”

James snorted and picked up his mug again, disgruntled to find it empty. “You’ve still got those black denim shorts, haven’t you? That’s all you wore last festival we went to. What was it you were shouting after a few tequilas?”

“I believe it was-” Lily affected Sirius’ deeper tone and the clipped accent of his youth and heritage he couldn’t help slip into sometimes- “My tattoos are my clothes, Prongs! See, look, I’m not naked!” She cleared her throat back to her usual voice and raised an eyebrow at Sirius. “Right before James had to tackle you to stop you taking your shorts off too.”

“Yeah, I think your response was - But my arse is tattooed too, Prongs, fuck off! I’m a fucking gift to the world.” James sniggered and dodged the pen Sirius tried to jam up his nose in response.

Remus simply raised an eyebrow and reached for another pastry from the box. “Sometimes I think I’ll go a day without wondering what the hell I’ve gotten myself into… But then you three always seem to surprise me.”

 

Saturday hit Sirius around the back of the head. It felt like he was trudging through Friday, most of it spent with the same client, working on a thigh piece that she wanted done in one sitting and by the end of it, Sirius was so sore and exhausted that he blinked and it was Saturday. Then it was smaller client pieces, the bigger ones tended to come in the week, but the smaller ones passed by quicker, and then he blinked again and he was in an Uber with James and Lily, half-cut on margaritas, in sinfully tight jeans and a gauzy button-down shirt. He felt like he’d barely seen James, Lily or Remus for the whole week, despite the fact they worked in close quarters and stepped on each others toes more often than not. He supposed it was a good thing, as it gave him time to let his feelings about Remus settle. 

Marlene, Dorcas and Remus were already stationed at their usual table in The Three Sweeps, and a moment after Sirius sank into his seat, awaiting a drink from James at the bar, Dorcas launched into her latest story. Apparently Frank and Alice would join later at Heaven, as usual, after a winning competition earlier that evening.

Lily came first back to the table, elegant fingers around a few drinks, swiftly followed by James, with am armful of alcohol that spoke to his misspent youth drinking in Eton dorms. Sirius took a grateful swig of his beer, grimacing for a moment at the way it mingled with the aftertaste of margaritas, but then it was gone and everything was pleasant again.

“Lils told you about going to Primavera right?” Sirius said, setting his beer back down and leaning over to capture Marlene and Dorcas’ attention. He was certainly not drinking in the wonderful view of Remus in another button down shirt, dark plaid this time, still rolled to the elbows and open at the throat.

“Yeah! I’m so fucking hyped already, I’ve wanted to go to Primavera for a while, and we get VIP as well!” Dorcas beamed, knocking back the dregs of a glass of red wine. 

“We should pimp you out to companies more often, Sirius.” Marlene gave Sirius a lecherous grin over the top of her own wine glass and kicked him under the table with a motion that reminded him of her love for football.

“Fuck off, Marls,” Sirius shot right back, taking a mouthful of his beer.

“I dunno, Pads,” Remus remarked, smirking at Marlene’s elbow. “You’re the one with all the followers, seems a good idea to me.” 

Sirius rolled his eyes and threw an arm around Dorcas’ shoulders. “How do you put up with her, Dorky?”

Without missing a beat Dorcas set her wine glass down and pinned Sirius with a look, one eyebrow raised, mouth pressed in a serious line. “She’s real great at eating pussy.”

There was a moment of silence, where Sirius barely managed to avoid snorting beer foam, before Lily burst out laughing, soon followed by the rest of the table. Marlene looked thoroughly pleased with herself and grinned from ear to ear.

“Hey,” Sirius started once he was sure he wouldn’t have beer foam coming out of his nose. “Maybe you can give Prongs some pointers Marls?”

“Oi!” James threw a flurry of beer mats at Sirius, who just shrieked with laughter.

Marlene wiggled her eyebrows and brought her fingers to her mouth in a vee shape, licking her tongue through the gap. It only took a second before Dorcas was copying her, and Sirius shrieked even louder with laughter at the red flush settling across James’ face.

“I’ll have you know, he doesn’t need any tips, thank you!” Lily said through a bout of laughter, crossing her arms over her chest. “You two can’t talk, you have zero experience with fanny!” She pointed at Sirius and Remus.

Remus held up his hands and nodded in assent, but Sirius pointed right back at Lily. “Hey, I’ve slept with women!”

“You want pointers too, Pads?” Marlene said, still waggling her tongue lasciviously through her fingers.

“Stop that, God!” Remus chuckled, taking a long swig of his beer. “As the only one here who doesn’t like vagina, that is distracting.”

“Hey, and I do!?” Lily shot back, snatching a beer mat from the pile near her husband and throwing it at Remus. 

Sirius ducked out of the way of another wayward beer mat - Lily’s poor aim probably - and grinned even wider. “Oh, I dunno, all that time at a girl’s school, Lils?”

Dorcas groaned. “Yeah, tell me more about that, Lily, I’m so fucking jealous.”

“You have me!” Marlene shot back, slinging her arm around Dorcas’ shoulders and nuzzling into the soft spot beneath her ear. 

“I do, but damn, think about how much experience I would’ve got at a girl’s school. You’d never get out of bed, Marls, I’d turn you into one big orgasm.”

“Oooookay!” Remus sang, pushing his chair back and gathering a few empty glasses. “I’m going to get another round!”

 

Another round went by, then another, the conversation not quite veering back around to various sexual skills, which was probably a good thing given how good Remus looked when he threw his head back to laugh, the blush creeping down his neck towards that damn throat piercing. Then, like every Saturday night, Lily drained her drink, tapped her phone and announced, “Right, all, Heaven awaits.”

Sirius drained his beer and made his way outside, lighting a cigarette as he stepped over the threshold. Lily was right behind him, linking her arm through his and leaning over to steal a drag of his cigarette. 

She blew the smoke the other way and leant back into him. “You sure you’re alright, Pads? With Moony and everything?”

Sirius rolled his eyes and blew his next mouthful of smoke right in her face. She simply raised an eyebrow and batted it away, unperturbed. Sirius sighed. “I’m fine, Lils, really. I mean, is it weird between us? It doesn’t feel it to me.” 

Lily bit her lip and thought for a second, watching James, Remus, Marlene and Dorcas filter out of the pub to wait on the pavement for the Uber. “No, it doesn’t seem weird to me. So as long as you’re alright. You know James and I really will murder anyone who hurts you. Even if they are our piercer.”

Sirius laughed and drew her into a hug. “I know, Lils, I know.”

 

James and Sirius made a beeline for the bar when they arrived at Heaven. Dorcas had gotten them another VIP table - God knows they came here often enough to warrant it - and the others had gone off to go and drop their bags and coats before dancing. Sirius sighed happily as he followed James through to the front of the bar, already wiggling his hips along to Madonna.

“Shots, Pads?” James nudged his ribs with an elbow and leant forward to order a handful of Jägerbombs as well as their usual round. 

“I think you’re trying to get me drunk, Prongs,” Sirius shot back, leaning over to snag a Jägerbomb and down it in one. 

James did the same, then nudged another one over to him. “Oh absolutely.”

Sirius clinked his glass with James’ and knocked back the second drink. He waited for James to pay for the round before grabbing as many drinks as he could - quite a few, he’d had enough practise - and weaved through the crowd towards the VIP area, carrying the drinks above his shoulders to stop them getting jostled. Thankfully, being half-cut seemed to do something for his centre of gravity, and he found it easier to bounce between the bodies and the furniture until he landed at their table, grinning happily at the lack of spilled alcohol. At the table, he dished out the drinks and snagged up two Red Bull and vodka’s, passing one to James who was right behind him.

“So, dance? We can at least look half-decent on the dance floor before Alice and Frank get here.”

“Hear, hear!” Dorcas chimed in, taking a drink of her lurid cocktail before sliding out of the booth, pulling Remus with her. Sirius laughed, chugged his drink - no, he was absolutely not out to get plastered tonight - and followed them onto the dance floor, Marlene, Lily and James hot on his heels. 

Almost on cue, Bananarama rang through the club and Marlene let out an excited squeal. “Venus!” 

Sirius just closed his eyes, letting the alcohol seep through him and wash away everything else. He raised his arms above his head, dancing and moving and he knew he looked good. He couldn’t find it to quite care about anything at all except the music. Saturdays were for getting drunk and forgetting all your problems, that was how it had always been. It just so happened Sirius felt like it was definitely needed after the week he had had. 

And maybe, maybe, not doing relationships was his thing now too, especially with the way that pretty blonde girl with eyes like sin, deep purple lipstick and a tiny waist was smiling at him. Remus seemed happy with it, didn’t he? 

So maybe that was what Sirius was missing. Maybe he just needed to get real drunk and just let go, he thought as he wound an arm around the girls’ waist and murmured something appreciative when she pressed close. 

Chapter 17: Reckless

 

This is definitely something I do, Sirius thought as he stumbled back towards the toilets, the pretty blonde with the eyes like sin following him, fingers through his belt loops, straying down over his erection with feigned innocence. 

There was nothing wrong with wanting this - a moment of feeling unmoored, floating and not caring at all. And there was nothing to say he had to get that with Remus, even if that was the moment that had started it all. He just wanted an out, something beyond the alcohol to switch his brain off. And if he didn’t have the time or energy for a relationship outside of work, then a quick fumble in the hallway of Heaven would be fine. He didn’t need to know her name, he didn’t need to know anything about her, really, beyond those eyes like sin.

Sirius grabbed her hand and nipped playfully at her fingers as they stumbled into the corridor. “Just hold on a minute, baby.”

“I don’t wanna wait,” the blonde murmured against the shell of Sirius’ ear, tonguing the piercing Remus had given him a few weeks earlier. “Here is fine, c’mon.” She pressed a kiss to the wings of the hawk at his throat and pressed herself against his back. Sirius moaned softly and let his head drop back against her shoulder for a second before turning and pressing her against the nearest wall. He ducked his head and kissed her deeply, moaning sharply when he felt the cool metal of a tongue piercing swipe his bottom lip. 

This is definitely something I do.

Sirius wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her towards the nearest door, fumbling for the handle and falling through a moment later. But they fell straight into another pair of bodies. Sirius blinked a moment in the bright light of the disabled toilets, and felt all the arousal that was coursing through his system drain out his feet.

And there was Remus, pressing a man against the wall, a knee between his thighs, a hand shoved down his jeans. Remus pulled back a little, stilling his hands. His amber eyes were bright and his hair was all mussed and Sirius found that he was more than slightly peeved that the man Remus was kissing looked absolutely nothing like him. 

The blonde at Sirius’ side, to her credit, didn’t seem even slightly phased. She just grabbed Sirius’ belt loops and tugged them back towards the doorway. 

“Sorry, didn’t realise this was… ocupado!” She laughed, curled an arm around Sirius’ waist and stepped back. Sirius couldn’t tear his gaze away from Remus, his kiss-bitten lips, body curled possessively around the other mans. Remus’ eyes flickered between Sirius and the blonde for a moment, before he ducked his head back towards the other mans. 

The door swung shut behind Sirius and the blonde, and she pressed her lips against his neck, giggling softly. “Whoops… that was awkward… let’s find somewhere else.”

It had only been a matter of moments. Remus’ eyes had only met his for a split second before Sirius had stumbled back out of the room, but it had seemed to drag on for hours. It had gone from some hot, sordid action in the dark corner of the club to leaving a nasty taste in his mouth, and it was only because he’d seen his friend doing exactly what he was doing. 

Sirius cleared his throat and pushed a wave of hair back from his face. He carefully extricated himself from the blonde’s grasp and swallowed a lump of bile in his throat. He knew Remus didn’t do relationships, and that definitely didn’t mean he didn’t do relations, but he hadn’t expected to see him with his tongue down someone’s throat so soon. “Sorry,” he muttered, “yeah, I don’t think I’m - uh, feeling this anymore. Sorry.” 

“…Seriously?” The blonde frowned, stepping back and glaring at Sirius.

He couldn’t help grinning at her turn of phrase and stifled a ridiculously inappropriate bout of laughter. “Yeah, I really am Sirius. Sorry love!” 

Sirius caught her eyebrows rising before he ducked back out into the main room of the club and attempted to lose himself in the crowd. He wondered if he should be feeling ashamed, just dumping her like that, but who was he to know hook-up etiquette if he’d only done it precisely once before and it was his fucking workmate? Sirius diverted towards the bar and ordered another handful of Jägerbombs, downing them in quick succession before making his way towards the smoking area. 

The alcohol made things a little easier to process - he didn’t know that girl, so why should he care what she thought? He was looking out for himself right now, and if he needed to make out with a girl for a while then just run off when things didn’t go his way then he was entitled to do that. They were both drunk, and it was definitely just the done thing at a place like this. He didn’t care. And he definitely didn’t care that Remus was probably fucking some little twink in the bathroom right now, either.

If there was a time for chain smoking, then it was now, and Sirius was definitely doing that, stubbing out his first cigarette and lighting another, his head swimming pleasantly with vodka. Then Remus had to go and spoil it all and stride out into the smoking area. He glanced at Sirius before fumbling in his pocket for a cigarette.

“The ol’ post-shag cigarette, Moony?” His voice came out shorter than he expected, sickly-sweet and sing-song, and the wind whipped up the courtyard to throw his hair over his eyes for a moment.

Remus looked at him incredulously, raising an eyebrow as he brought his cigarette to his mouth. “Like you’re one to talk, Padfoot.”

Sirius snorted and took a long drag on his cigarette, refusing to be the one who looked away first. Remus just stared back, amber eyes boring into him and was it only a few days ago they were looking at him full of affection, eyebrows pitched together, jaw lax? 

“I don’t have to explain-”

“That’s fucking rich to-”

They both spoke at the same time, and Sirius clenched his jaw shut before taking another drag of his cigarette. The moment seemed to flicker between them, and Sirius had a vivid memory of the last time they were out here, Remus dragging him closer, the smoke whirling between them. It seemed to be carried up into the ether now, quick to leave everything sharp and clear between them. 

“I told you I don’t do relationships.” Remus crossed his arms and leant against the wall, still staring impenetrably at Sirius.

“I heard you. You’re the one who looks like they have a problem.”

“I have the problem? You said you didn’t do no-strings, and now you’re going off with random people?”

“Yeah. Why? You jealous Moony?” Sirius tilted his chin up in defiance and flicked away the butt of his cigarette. 

Remus drew himself up to his full height, but Sirius wasn’t intimidated. Fine, if this was what Remus wanted, then fine. Fine. If Remus could do it himself, but expect Sirius not to go with anyone else, then he had another thing coming. 

For fuck’s sake, this was why he didn’t get involved with co-workers, or friends, or anyone at all really. He didn’t have the time or energy for a relationship, he had other things to worry about, and toeing the fine line of sexual attraction with Remus was not one of them. 

“No. I’m worried for my friend, who said he only did relationships, and then not only went to bed with a co-worker, but now is off his face and apparently going with anyone who looks at him twice.” Remus pinned him with a look, but the metaphorical blow seemed to glance right off Sirius, he was too drunk, too het up to care. 

Sirius snorted and folded his arms across his chest. “Oh no, I’m not taking the fall for you sucking my damn cock, Moony. You could’ve said no, too! This is not all on me!”

“Oh, of course. Nothing is ever Sirius’ fault, is it? As long as you get what you want.” Remus took a step forward and ducked his head to mutter lowly in Sirius’ face. “I wouldn’t have bothered if you didn’t seem so desperate. My mistake.”

It took Sirius’ vodka-addled brain a second to fully comprehend what Remus meant, but soon enough his hands were on Remus’ chest, shoving him backwards. “Fuck you, Remus.” 

Remus stumbled a little, taken aback by the ferocity of Sirius’ shove, and Sirius watched his jaw clench. For a terrifying moment of lucidity amongst the alcohol Sirius felt Walburga claw her way up his throat - she always knew the weaknesses, she always knew the places to hurt the most, the jabs to pierce the soft spots, the places to twist and dig her nails in - and he felt powerless to stop her, all drink and anger. 

“You can fuck your feelings away but the moment I do it too, it’s a disgusting mistake? You were into it too when we got off, weren’t you?” Sirius saw Remus’ fists clench by his sides, but still Walburga wouldn’t stop, homing in on every weakness like a bird of prey, waiting for mistakes. “Oh sorry, am I upsetting you? Too close to the fucking bone, Remus? What’s the real reason you don’t do relationships, huh? A quick fuck in the loos is easier, isn’t it? Scared of being vulnerable-” 

Sirius didn’t have that luxury, his vulnerabilities were aired to the world every time a Black family member came stomping back into his life, he knew he always wore his heart on his sleeve and there was nothing he could do about it. But a Black went straight for the jugular, that was the ruthless business sense that got his great-great-whatever-fucking-grandfather where he was, and where it got all of them. Sirius thought he could escape it, but being a Black was his blood. It was always a cover for something, for roiling feelings of inadequacy, for pride, for hurting- 

“Or is it just the scars?”

The words were barely out of his mouth before Remus’ fist collided with his jaw. Sirius staggered back, bolstered by the alcohol, and threw his own right hook. In a moment they were scuffling, both of them too drunk to land any solid punches beyond Remus’ opening gambit, now throbbing at Sirius’ jaw. 

“Hey!” James’ voice cut through the hard packing sounds of fists and the protestations of other people in the smoking area. “What the fuck!?” 

James was there all of a sudden, pulling at Sirius’ shoulder and putting himself between the other two men. His shout must’ve alerted the rest of the group, because only a second later, a wave of bodies spilled out of the doorway towards them. When Sirius’ vision straightened, Lily was at his shoulder, an arm around his waist, Marlene and Dorcas at his other side. James had backed Remus into a corner, a hand tight on his arm, Frank and Alice gathered around them. 

“What the hell happened?” Lily muttered to Sirius, green eyes wide in confusion. Sirius just shook his head, staring across at James and Remus. James might’ve been shorter than the other man, but he was broader, and it was difficult to miss the hard light in his eyes even behind his glasses. His jaw was set, and Sirius remembered that look on his face from last time Evan Rosier had squared up to Sirius and said something untoward about Regulus. He knew James and Lily never joked about defending Sirius to the hills. Of course, they would always take his side, but that only made the bubble of acidic guilt in his throat even worse.

Sirius shook his head again and sniffed away the blood from his nose. “I baited him, I started it, tell Prongs to back off.” Fuck, when did he get so drunk? When did the whole world start pitching to the side and rolling in and out of focus, twisting like a kaleidoscope? Sirius shook his head again and wiped his bloody nose on his sleeve. When Lily didn’t step forward, Sirius shrugged her off and crossed the courtyard towards James and Remus. Lily stayed resolutely at his side as he touched James on the shoulder. James softened and glanced back to his best friend, a cursory glance to Lily to ensure she wasn’t hurt, but Lily Evans-Potter could handle herself. 

“Leave it, Prongs. I said some stuff I shouldn’t have,” Sirius muttered, avoiding Remus’ shining eyes and choosing to look at James instead. It was only when he blinked a few times too many, hazel eyes swimming, that Sirius realised James was probably pretty drunk too. Everyone had jumped to conclusions, apparently. 

James stepped back and released Remus’ arm. “Alright… alright.”

Remus scowled and straightened his shirt, stepping back from James, chest heaving. “Yeah, you did, Padfoot.” 

But Sirius didn’t miss the nickname. He lifted a hand and shoved the hair back from his face, staring Remus down and wondering if everything else would linger unsaid. They had both said too much already, too fired up with drink and whatever happened back in that dingy toilet and Sirius probably still had purple lipstick all over his face. 

The streetlights flickered in Remus’ eyes, and he couldn’t help but think about the way he looked sprawled beneath him, jaw lax in the throes of orgasm. Shit, how could he look so damn angry and yet still Sirius wanted to press against him and lick into his mouth and taste that damn tongue stud. Remus just stared back, scowling through a split lip that Sirius must’ve dealt him, until Alice stepped up to him and muttered something too quiet for Sirius to hear. Sirius wondered if the heat in his eyes was just anger too. 

Lily pulled gingerly at both James and Sirius’ elbows. “Let’s go home, okay?” But she had already made the decision, and was tapping on her phone for an Uber. 

 

Sirius blinked and he was between the two of them in the car, heading back to their flat. James’ mouth was set in a grim line of determination and he was staring at the passing traffic. “You said it wouldn’t be weird between you, Pads.”

Sirius shook his head and noticed a smear of dried blood on the back of his hand. “I thought it wouldn’t either. But then, ah fuck-” he dropped his head back and stared at the felted roof of the car. The whole world pulsed around him and he wondered if he might vomit for a moment then it passed- “I saw him getting off with some little twink, and- and I was gonna shag this pretty blonde girl but then we saw each other and it was weird.” He stopped to scrub a hand over his face, only half-aware and not caring a jot that the Uber driver could hear every last word. “So then I saw him out in the smoking area after and said some things I shouldn’t, and he did too, and we were both just fucking drunk, Prongs, I swear.”

“That’s really not like you, Padfoot,” Lily said from his other shoulder, her fire-red hair cascading down over his arm. She didn’t say the rest of the words, but Sirius felt them in the air. It wasn’t like him since he’d left Grimmauld Place. Back then, he’d been snide, picky and sometimes downright horrible, like the place and the people were a poison around him. In the summers away from Eton he would get himself into trouble on purpose, pick fights, flirt with girls who were already spoken for by men twice his height and breadth just to get something started. He never used to know how to handle his emotions, he would lash out, and his fight-or-flight was geared solely in fight because he never thought it would be possible to actually get away from Walburga and Orion. 

But then he finally managed to run, to the Potters’, to the safety of a loving family and therapy and careful conversations and tentative hugs and crying into shoulders than didn’t punish him for an errant tear. It had taken so long for Sirius to get a handle on his emotions, to learn to express himself properly, but back in the smoking area Sirius felt 15 again, angry, just wanting to make things hurt, and Walburga’s blood knew just how to do it. 

Lily peered up at him with bright eyes, searching for anything in his facial expression that she could grasp on to, to try and help him. The stark concern in her gaze shook Sirius out of his reverie, and he found himself hoping he could explain to Remus that he’d said the wrong things, he’d stepped over the line. They didn’t have to be friends, they just had to be colleagues, they just had to get on enough in the main room of Marauder Ink and smile nicely until one of them got to escape back into the comfort of their own space and do their damn job. 

And Sirius was remarkably good at compartmentalising. At least if he wore his heart on his sleeve, he had a variety of different shirts it was attached to, and was quite skilled in only dealing with one shirt at a time. And if the only shirt he could wear around Remus was his co-worker shirt, then so be it. 

As much as he just wanted to forego the shirts entirely. Dammit, Padfoot, you could’ve got a really great shag with that pretty blonde with eyes like sin if you’d not freaked out -  he could’ve been chasing that feeling of being utterly unmoored and not giving a shit, instead of between James and Lily in an Uber back hoem, rapidly sobering with the taste of blood in the back of his mouth.

“I know… I don’t know, I’m just drunk,” Sirius tried, still staring up at the roof.

James turned to look at him properly, the passing lights flickering over his glasses but Sirius never felt more exposed than when he looked James in the eye. The man knew him better than the back of his own hand, as kids they’d nearly been telepathic and Sirius firmly believed he would be six feet under if it weren’t for James Fleamont Potter. “Moony’s our friend, but if he hurt you, Pads…”

Sirius didn’t realise he was laughing before it spilled out of his lips. “I know. He hasn’t-” hadn’t he? -“It’s fine, really. We were both drunk… I’ll talk to him.”

 

In reality, Sirius had no intention of speaking to Remus before Tuesday. He had made up his mind - they were going to be courteous co-workers but nothing more. 

At least that was his plan, before Lily Evans-Potter burst into his room at 10am on Sunday, hair wet from the shower, and announced they were going out for brunch. Sirius tried to beg off, he really did, but Lily wouldn’t take no for an answer, and 11am found him staring down a menu and wondering if ‘one of everything’ was a little too ambitious and/or greedy. 

Someone cleared their throat opposite him, and Sirius felt the table shift. He looked up to see Remus settling in the seat across from him, and moments after his jaw dropped, he glanced to James and Lily to see them both giving him obnoxiously pleasant smiles.

“We’re having this out. The four of us have to work together and I’d rather we all talk and apologise for our drunken conduct last night,” Lily said in a tone that reminded Sirius why she was debate champion at school. 

“I don’t appreciate the subterfuge, Lily,” Remus muttered as he plucked a menu from the middle of the table, having already shrugged his jacket off.

“Neither do I,” Sirius agreed, staring Lily down with what he hoped was his best ‘I’m displeased’ look. 

Lily was utterly unfazed and just shrugged. “I’m sure you don’t, but there we go. I’ll go and order drinks. James, give me a hand?”

James, the utter traitor that he was, sent Sirius a quick apologetic quirk of the eyebrows, before standing and following his wife to the counter. Sirius made a mental note to strangle him the next time they were alone before he looked back to Remus. 

He looked tired in the morning light, bags under his eyes dark, and the split in his lip, just to the side of the piercing, looked red and sore. “You’ve got a split lip.” 

A smile threatened the corners of Remus’ mouth. “You’ve got the beginnings of a black eye.”

“You throw a mean left hook.”

“You fight dirty.”

“Public school,” Sirius shot back, shrugging one shoulder. After a second, the facade dropped and Sirius bit his lip, leaning forward onto his elbow. “Sorry Moons - said some things I shouldn’t have.”

Remus nodded slowly, teeth tugging on his lip ring in a moment of thought. “Yeah, I did too, Pads.” He lifted his fingers to his mouth and chewed at a ragged bit of skin beside his thumbnail. “We both had a bit too much to drink, didn’t we?”

Sirius nodded and set his menu down. “Yeah. Truce?”

Remus’ eyes flickered between Sirius’ outstretched hand and his face, before reaching out and shaking his hand. “Yeah, truce.”

For a moment, neither of them let go of the others hand. Remus’ lightly tanned fingers were a stark contrast to Sirius’ milky-pale skin, barely visible through all the colours of his tattoos. Sirius bit his lip, squeezing his hand softly and pretending he didn’t feel the heat course through him just at Remus’ touch. 

“Coffee, lads?” James fell into his seat next to Sirius with a wide grin on his face, clearly happy that they had made up and weren’t getting into fights outside clubs - at least for the time being. Sirius just smiled and gently pulled his hand out of Remus’ grip to retrieve one of the steaming mugs of coffee. Lily slid into her seat next to Remus and reached over to dole a heaping spoonful of sugar into her mug. Remus sighed softly and tugged the remaining coffee in towards his body. 

After a moment of quiet, Lily set her mug down. “We’re all okay, right? I really like the shop how it is, I like the four of us. I don’t want that to change.”

“Lily’s right, we don’t want this to change, you two… you’re both okay, really?” James looked as earnest as Sirius had ever seen him, peering over his glasses and looking just like some terrifying combination of their parents and Minnie. 

Sirius thought for a moment of how things had changed. How the shop was so much more fun with Remus there, and they were bringing in a lot more customers. And Remus was a laugh, when things weren’t endlessly awkward between them. He hoped Remus knew how sorry he really was, how often and how quickly he had lost his temper at school, and how ashamed he was of losing it again over something so stupid. They had to work together, and that meant Sirius had to be the bigger man and admit he was wrong.

Sirius set his coffee down and glanced at Remus, who was already looking at him with those damn bright eyes, collecting all the light in the room and shining them right back at Sirius. He wanted so desperately just to lean over and kiss him. He shrugged one shoulder and quirked a wry smile. Remus smiled back enigmatically and turned to Lily.

“We’re fine.”

“We’re doing okay.”

Chapter 18: Watercolour Peacock

Notes:

two for one on our Instagram pics today, because these two go together so well.

on a side note, I'm going to be updating this a little less regularly I think. There was a while there it was a chapter a day, and my writing can't quite keep up anymore - I want to make sure these chapters are as good as possible for you! so it's likely going to be one or two chapters a week, but I have lots of other things in the pipeline too. I won't abandon my babies, don't worry. <3

    

 

Mostly, everything did seem okay.

Sure, things were a little stilted between Sirius and Remus over the next two weeks or so. Primavera Sound was crawling closer, the shop would be closed for a few days either side of the festival, but for now they were still open and busy as all hell. Sirius barely had time to down a cup of tea, inhale a cigarette and grab something sugary and not-even-slightly-nutritious between clients. But he wasn’t complaining. He liked to be busy, he liked being a slave to his muse. It kept his mind quiet, left no room in his brain for anything other than gorgeous artwork and feeling miracles come to life under his fingers. It was the same every year, the weather got warmer, people started showing more skin, and wanted something pretty to show off. 

It wasn’t that Sirius was a tattoo snob, but there were only so many twenty-something women wanting cliche little tattoos he could deal with, never mind the fact they wriggled uncomfortably in the chair the whole damn time. Luckily, they didn’t get too many of them at Marauder Ink, everything was booked months in advance, and the boys priced themselves high enough to only really be of interest to serious tattoo collectors. That didn’t stop the twenty-something’s coming in though, maybe leaving with a piercing from Remus, who always looked mildly bewildered by their flirting but smiled pleasantly anyway. 

Sirius looked away every time one of them touched his arm as he was finishing up the job.

So when Marlene appeared on a Thursday afternoon, bomber jacket thrown over one shoulder and somehow looking fresh from the gym but still artfully put together, Sirius could’ve cried in relief.

He looked up from the workbench and greeted her with a wide smile. “Marls! Just in time, you all ready?”

Marlene grinned and crossed over to hug him briefly. “Hey you, I’m all set. Buzzin’ for it-” she peered over his shoulder to see the artwork he’d been finalising for her- “holy shit, is that it? Fuck me, Sirius that’s beautiful!”

Sirius preened and grinned, squeezing an arm around her waist. “You love it? Honestly?”

“Yes! Your ego does not need stroking but it’s beautiful, honestly.” 

Sirius grinned wider and pressed a kiss to Marlene’s cheek. “Okay, c’mon then, let’s get set up.” 

He directed her through to his room, where Marlene promptly pulled off her shirt. She was as unabashed with her body as Sirius was, and that was saying something, so Sirius was quick to shut the door to give them some privacy. Sirius was in his work headspace, Marlene’s body had morphed into a canvas and not his friend who liked to strip off at any opportunity to scream ‘down with the fucking patriarchy!’ and he set about sorting out the stencil. Marlene settled on the table and sat straight up, dropping her shoulders as Sirius carefully applied the stencil to her shoulder blade. Once satisfied, he steered her to the mirror to make sure she was happy with it. The squeal of delight seemed to indicate that she was, and both of them settled down for a few hours of work.

Marlene looked as if she might be napping, her head pillowed under one arm, turned to the side and watching Sirius through half-lidded eyes. “So, how are you, Siri?”

Sirius snorted and carried on with the line-work. “Don’t call me that, Marls.” He paused to wipe away the ink. “But I’m fine, everything’s great. Looking forward to Primavera.”

Marlene smiled and watched him for a moment. Her eyes flickered to the closed door to the main room and back to Sirius. “What about you and Moony?”

“What about me and Moony?” Sirius’ voice went a little steely. He and Remus still hadn’t really spoken beyond that brunch, they were just friends, co-workers, acquaintances. Nothing more, just whatever was needed to make work pleasant.

“Oh you know, just the whole eye-fucking each other at all opportunities, the punch up at Heaven… don’t tell me you weren’t jealous of the twink he was dancing with. If looks could kill, baby…”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Oi, don’t antagonise the man repeatedly stabbing you with needles.”

Marlene snorted with laughter. “Sirius. I am giving you realness. If I can’t do that then who the fuck even am I?”

“… Fine. Okay. So, Marls I swear, you can’t even tell Dorky about this, okay?” He paused to look up at her and she nodded solemnly. “So we got off together at the birthday party… And then never really got around to talking about it because the whole thing with my family happened. Then the other day, we slept together. Moony said he doesn’t do relationships, but I said it was fine, you know, even though that’s not my thing. But it was fucking great, like the best orgasm I’ve ever had.”

“Pft, that’s not hard for you. When was the last time you dated? Did I even know you then?”

Sirius sat back to dip into more ink and pushed the hair off his face with an elbow. “Oh ha ha, I’m just focused more on work. No one seems to get my priorities. Just because you and Dorky are joined at the vulva doesn’t mean the rest of us have to be.” He smiled tightly and leant back over Marlene’s shoulder.

She held back a chuckle - Marlene had been tattooed often enough to know to keep the hell still - and smiled. “Alright, alright. Carry on, best orgasm you ever had.”

Sirius groaned. “If I wasn’t a slave to my art I would fuck this up just to spite you. But thankfully, I’m a fucking professional and this is going to be gorgeous.” He carried on inking the stencil. “Okay, great orgasm. But then, because I’m me, obviously, I can’t do no-strings and yeah, yeah maybe I was a little jealous when we were at Heaven because I saw him in the bathrooms with the twink.” He swallowed and watched Marlene emote whilst trying to keep as still as possible. “I mean, I was looking for somewhere to get off with this blonde girl-”

“Ooh, her with the purple lipstick? She was cute as hell. I approve.”

“… That’s not the fucking point of the story, Marls. Stop thinking with your vulva.” 

“Will you stop saying vulva, Sirius, it doesn’t suit you.”

“Anyway!” Sirius tapped her on the shoulder with his free hand to draw her attention back to the discussion. “I saw him getting off with the twink, and he was mad at me because I was getting off with the blonde. And that’s why we were arguing in the smoking area.”

“Oh… so you like him, right? As in, more than a friends-with-benefits situation? Else you wouldn’t be jealous?”

Sirius sighed and fell silent for a while, concentrating on the intricate line-work at the peacock’s tail. He let his work take over, falling into that wonderful space of miracle-working, watching the ink come to life under his hands. The liminal space of the vision quest, and God help him, if he couldn’t sink into his work without thinking of Remus now, there would be hell to pay. But the longer it went on, the easier he found it to shuck off the rest of the real world. 

Marlene let him sit, let him concentrate on his work and zone away from the dull pain in her shoulder. She knew Sirius went quiet when he needed to think, just like dancing at Heaven until everything fell into place. After a while, she rolled her shoulder when Sirius sat up to stretch his own back. “Talk to him, Siri.” She grinned at his dark look for the nickname. “Be open, and honest. Not in high school any more, are we?”

Sirius let himself smile and rubbed an affectionate hand over Marlene’s spine. “Yeah, I guess. I’ll talk to him. Maybe get a little drunk first, that’ll make it easier, right?”

“No, be sober and present and talk to him. Man alive, how do you even survive, Sirius? You’re 24 for the love of God.”

“Wow Marls, I know I ran away from home at 16, but I don’t need another mother figure, alright?”

Marlene flipped him the bird and pillowed her hands under her head again. “I’m just sayin’, you should talk to him.”

Sirius stretched his hands above his head before picking up his tattoo gun again and getting back to work. “I hate it when you’re right.”

 

“Hey, Moony?” Sirius tried to look nonchalant, slinging his leather jacket over one shoulder whilst stepping out into the early evening air. Remus made a querying noise and lit his cigarette. He looked wary, and Sirius could definitely understand why - Sirius hadn’t started a conversation since Heaven. “Can we talk? Get a coffee round the corner or something?”

Remus frowned and took a drag on his cigarette, glancing over to see Lily and James conveniently giving them space and looking entirely busy. “Sure? I’m meeting Gid and Fab in a bit, but sure…”

Sirius scrubbed a hand through his hair and started down the pavement towards the coffee shop. “I appreciate it, won’t keep you long.” Sirius stretched his hands above his head as he walked, and glanced behind him to see Remus walking, long strides quickly catching up to Sirius. Sirius stubbed out his cigarette and held open the door of the coffee shop and Remus ducked through. It was kind of quiet for Thursday evening, and they didn’t have to wait for their drinks. Sirius thought about offering to pay for Remus’ tea, but then, would that be too close to a date, too uncomfortable for either of them? 

They sat at the bar in front of the window, an unconscious decision by both of them not to huddle up in a booth together. Sirius blew on his flat white and took a sip. He thought of Marlene cuffing him around the arm as she said goodbye, telling him under no uncertain circumstances to grow a pair and talk.

“So, apparently, I’m trying to be adult and grown up and-” he took another sip of coffee and tried not to notice how his fingers were shaking- “talk.”

A smile flickered across Remus’ face behind his drink. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” God, Remus was going to make him say it, wasn’t he? Although he didn’t quite know what he was trying to say anyway. Everything was swirling and incorporeal. Sirius pressed an elbow onto the bar and rested his chin on the palm of his hand. “Okay, so. I was out of order at Heaven. I’m really sorry, I had drank too much and was… out of character.”

“Mhmm, and I punched you.” Remus set his cup down and plucked at a piece of stray thread on his jumper, “but we both apologised. As far as I’m concerned, we move past it.”

Sirius let out a long breath, unable to look Remus in the eye. He watched a group of teenagers walk past outside, laughing together and Sirius longed for the easiness of Eton, the ability to just pull pranks, start food fights and smuggle whiskey into the dorms to play dares and tricks on the younger students. “Yeah… I don’t think I can move past it, though. The reason I was… out of order, was because I was jealous.” Remus didn’t say anything - thank God - or Sirius might’ve just vaulted over the table between him and the door and ran off into the evening light. He took a bigger gulp of his coffee and plowed on. “So, yeah, that’s that… I thought I was good with no-strings, but apparently - and everyone could see this but me - I’m not. So… yeah, sorry.”

Remus turned and looked out of the window for a moment, watching the group of teenagers there now further along the pavement. He set his tea down and rubbed a hand over his face. “Okay… well… now we know?”

Sirius drained the rest of his ridiculously large coffee in one fell swoop, immediately regretting it as soon as he realised sleep would evade him that night. “Yeah… except, well… Jesus, fuck, you don’t make this easy do you? I’m gonna kill Marlene…” he took another breath and forced himself to look back at Remus. He almost looked amused by the whole thing, goddamn him, the querying raise of an eyebrow, the slight smile on his lips, and that was only made a million times worse by the fact Sirius just knew what he tasted like now. “I like you, Moony. I think we could be good. You know, more than just physically.”

Remus nodded again, short and tight, his face quickly falling from slightly amused to a look of abject vulnerability. His fingers found the ring through his lip and tugged a little. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Pads.”

Sirius slumped and snatched up his napkin just to do something with his fingers. “Oh…”

“I mean, look, I had a great time the other day, okay? I don’t regret that. And if I thought we could just keep it at that, then that would be fine. It would be great, really. We work well together in bed, you know? But I don’t think we can… keep it just physical.” Remus sipped his tea again and watched someone else walk past the window. Sirius felt the space between them widen to a mile. “I don’t think we could keep to that boundary… and I can’t do the rest of it. I can’t give you what you want here Padfoot, I can’t give you all the bits of a relationship that you need.”

Sirius wanted to interrupt that he didn’t need a relationship. But that wasn’t quite the case, was it? He needed a relationship from Remus. If they were going to do this, Sirius wanted all of him. He wanted the other man to splay himself open, ribs broken, chest bared, heart for the taking - just like him - if they were going to be anything at all. But Remus couldn’t do that, for whatever reason.

Remus’ fingers felt like fire when they fell onto his knee, just light enough not to feel intimate, but even just an affectionate touch like that made Sirius want to scream at the unfairness of it all. “I’m sorry, Pads. I really am. But I can’t give you that… I would really like to be friends though?”

Sirius nodded and picked up his coffee cup out of habit. He glanced in to find it empty and set it back down again. “Yeah, no. I would like that too, Moony, I really would.”

The look of relief that passed over Remus’ face felt like it broke Sirius in two. He nearly crumbled then and there, and simply balled his napkin up in his hand to try and release some of that roiling energy inside of him. Remus finished his tea and set the cup back down. “Good, I’m glad… I like the shop too much, I wouldn’t want to leave now.”

“I wouldn’t make you leave, Moons,” Sirius shot back instantly, throwing his napkin into his empty cup. “I like the shop how it is now too, the four of us.”

Remus smiled and slid from his stool, tidying both their cups back onto the small tray they arrived on. “Me too Pads.” He glanced at his phone. “I gotta go… okay? And I’ll see you tomorrow. My turn for breakfast isn’t it?”

“Yeah, yeah, make it a good haul, alright?” Sirius shrugged his jacket on, not planning on zipping it up until absolutely necessary. 

Remus chuckled and gave him a mock-salute. “Roger that, Pads. I’ll make it a good’un.”

Sirius followed him out of the coffee shop, waving goodbye to the barista - they were in here often enough - and waving as jovially as he could muster to Remus. “See you tomorrow Moons!”

 

The bike felt glorious beneath him, visor flipped open to enjoy the sun and the breeze on his face. Sirius took the long way home, pushing the bike through every corner and wishing for the winding roads of Berkshire around Potter Farm. Maybe he could go see Euphemia and Fleamont and wile away the weekend eating home-baking and riding the bike. He paused for a cigarette as he parked the bike up, and burst into the flat with a sigh of relief.

Lily and James tried to pretend they didn’t perk up like meerkats when he shut the door behind him and shucked off his jacket.

“Alright, Padfoot?” James threw an arm over the back of the sofa to wave at him.

“Yeah, alright… I think I was just going to get a drink and hang out in my room…” Sirius crossed through to the kitchen and opened the cupboard where they usually kept the hard liquor. It was surprisingly empty. He frowned and shut the cupboard to find James grinning inanely at him from the other side of the door. “Pro- Jesus fuck, what the fuck?”

James put his arm around Sirius’ shoulders and squeezed a little. “It is my dutiful role as your brother, when you are like this, to play FIFA and stop you from drinking whiskey on a Thursday, so I’ve hidden the drink, and already booted the Playstation up. I’m legally not allowed to let you wallow… yeah?”

Sirius tried to resist for a moment, but James Potter had the definitive handbook on Sirius Black, and he could only hide his grin for a few seconds. He sighed and sank into James’ touch. “Yeah, alright…”

Lily’s voice piped up from the living room. “Oh, and I ordered pizza!”

Sirius grinned and turned his face into James’ shoulder. “Remind me what I did to deserve you two?”

“Well, I mean, you put up with James for years at Eton, God knows he was an arrogant little toe-rag, and to be honest you weren’t much better. Both of you have matured. You deserve each other, you both worked hard to get where you are…” Lily’s voice faded off at a look from James.

“I don’t think he wanted an actual list, babe.” James fell back onto the sofa, and Sirius clambered on next to him, already feeling better tangled up with his two best friends.

“Oh, well, it all still stands.” Lily smiled and flicked on the television. “I have a proposition. You two get FIFA after the pizza comes. I get to watch Love Island whilst we wait.”

James groaned and dropped his head back onto the sofa. 

Sirius perked up like a dog and grinned across at his sister-in-law. “Oh, is that hot blonde boy still there?”

James groaned even louder.

Chapter 19: Red Dragons

 

Sirius had a love-hate relationship with airports, flying, and time off in general.

Time off meant time to think, and that was never welcome. Flying was similar, confined to a seat for an inordinate amount of time, unable to do anything but sit and think. Airports were just full of idiots, and Sirius would rather be anywhere else than waiting in an empty, soulless place, to get in an overly-full soulless box. He was also vaguely aware that airports reminded him of Black family holidays to exclusive chalets in the Alps or private resorts in the south of France, and tried not to shudder at the memory.

But this ordeal would be worth it, Sirius thought as he trudged along the line for security, vaguely annoyed at the prospect of having to practically strip for the metal detector. He liked stripping most of the time, really, but at the airport surrounded by idiots with a plane ride ahead of him, he didn’t relish the idea. Perhaps once they got to the festival, he would be more inclined to take his clothes off. Primavera Sound had arrived, with a forecast of beautiful weather, VIP passes, a five-star hotel and all of his earnings for the past month converted to Euros. He intended to have an utterly debauched weekend, drinking sangria and dancing to EDM with his friends. He didn’t want to think about Remus and the incessant fluttering in the pit of his stomach, the occasional awkward silences that cast over them. He wanted to think about all the shenanigans they could get up to, what Marlene would construe as a festival-appropriate ‘outfit’, and just how drunk they could get Mr-Lightweight-2019 James F. Potter.

Lily had decided, without consulting Sirius - because why should she? She was their damn manager - that an early morning flight would be a brilliant idea, to give them an extra day in Barcelona to take in the sunshine and really take advantage of the rooftop bar and spa facilities at the hotel. At 5:30am, Sirius would’ve given his right arm for more sleep, but he knew as soon as they were on Spanish soil he would be happy for the whole day ahead of them. Marlene nudged him forward in the queue, with an equally tired expression on her face, and Sirius huffed a sigh as he began unloading his backpack for the scanner. He half-managed a chuckle when he was waved through security without needing to take his jeans off for some man in latex gloves, but Remus was asked to step to the side, indicating with a wry grin to his extensive collection of piercings, of course the damn metal detector went off.

Once in duty-free, Sirius, Remus and James made a beeline for the cigarette stall to stock up - Sirius had left a space in his suitcase for just that reason. When the three boys met back up with the girls in Departures, they were in the pub, ordering a round of early morning beer. Sirius slid into his seat with a happy sigh. “Start as we mean to go on, eh?”

On the way to the taxi in Spain, Marlene bought a bottle of pre-mixed pina colada through duty free, and the six of them shared the bottle in the short ride to the hotel. Sirius already felt more free by the time they all fell into reception, Dorcas now clutching the empty cocktail bottle and looking for a bin, whilst Lily strolled up to the desk to get them checked in.

James slung an arm around Sirius’ shoulder. “Woken up now, sleeping beauty?”

Sirius elbowed him good-naturedly in the ribs, but smiled nonetheless, wrinkling his nose to push his sunglasses back onto the bridge of his nose. “The cocktail helped. How long ’til it’s acceptable to be at the bar?”

James looked at his watch and grinned slyly. “I’d say thirty minutes, give or take? Enough time to put our bags down.”

Remus slid onto the arm of the chair next to James. “Enough time for what?”

“To reconvene at the bar,” Sirius supplied, extricating himself from James’ grip enough to ruffle Dorcas’ hair and do something other than stare at the way Remus’ forearms looked, bared by his t-shirt and glinting in the Spanish sunlight.

“Seems fair to me,” Remus hummed. “Festivals are for drinking, aren’t they?”

James pulled Remus into a hug with his other arm and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. James was a catastrophic lightweight, and the cocktail in the taxi over must’ve made him tipsy at least. “Knew there was a reason we loved you, Moony.”

“Speak for yourself Prongs,” Sirius grumbled, playing a part, but he couldn’t help noticing the smile that stuttered over Remus’ lips. Then Lily was at James’ arm, a concerned look at her face, and quickly tugged her husband a few feet away to mutter something to him.

Sirius sank onto the arm of the chair next to Remus and scrubbed a hand through his hair. They had today to chill at the hotel or around Barcelona, and there seemed to be a few smaller bands at the festival if they could be bothered to cross the road into the venue, then everything began in earnest tomorrow. 

“So,” Remus started, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. His voice sounded softer than it had in days. “You looking forward to any bands in particular?”

Sirius smiled, they always had good conversations about music. “Oh, Drab Majesty for sure, and I have a bit of soft spot for Frank Carter and the Rattlesnakes too. Gutted I missed Against Me! last year though. What about yo-”

“Hey, Pads, Moony, sorry to interrupt,” James wrung his hands together and smiled a muzzy, half-cut smile. “So, uh, when the promoters booked the rooms, they only booked three doubles.”

“So, James and I are in one, Dorcas and Marls in the second… you two in the third?” Lily looked firmly-planted, as if she weren’t going to say no for an answer, she had worked hard enough to get them all here. But there was an uncertainty flashing in her green eyes. “That alright with both of you?”

Sirius rubbed a hand over his mouth. Of course, he had to share a room with Remus when he would be spending all weekend drunk and dancing and he didn’t usually get handsy when drunk but since when did his usual actions apply to Remus? But he couldn’t well say no, this was all paid for after all. Sirius just shrugged, eyed the lift towards the rooftop bar, and smiled tightly.

“Sure, I’ve no problem?” He glanced to Remus to see a flash of uncertainty furrow his brows. Sirius could control himself, and so could Remus, he hoped. They were being co-workers, acquaintances, maybe even friends. And if it got really bad, he could just not go to bed and dance through the night at the festival, maybe grab a few hours kip on a sun-lounger at the hotel. 

Remus smiled and shouldered his rucksack. “Yeah, I’m sure we’ll be fine, won’t we Pads?”

 

James was right, 30 minutes later did see them at the rooftop bar, ordering cocktails and sprawling out on the nearby sun-loungers. Sirius had done little more than stop in the room to drop his bags, note - with relief - that it was two beds, with a good amount of distance between them. The room was fairly grand, it was a five-star hotel and apparently quite a few of the acts were also staying there for the duration of the festival. It was certainly big enough for the two of them to live there for a few days without tripping over each other. Sirius had dumped his jacket, pulled a carton of cigarettes from his rucksack and gone to meet the others. 

Remus had done something similar, although Sirius wasn’t paying him much attention. He definitely wasn’t paying attention to the way Remus tilted his head up to the sunlight, the deep v-neck of his shirt making that clavicle piercing shine. And Remus basking in the Spanish sunlight was definitely not the reason Sirius downed his first sangria and went straight back for a second, throwing himself down into Dorcas’ lap as she and Marlene were dealing a game of cards for the group

Dorcas ran her fingers through his hair without glancing over to him. “So, did you talk to him?”

Sirius’ eyes shot open to glare right at Marlene, who was grinning behind her glass. “You told Dorky?!”

“You’re the one who said we were joined at the vulva-” 

“I agreed on that,” Dorcas interjected.

“So I had to tell her, the vulvas demanded it. She reckoned you needed to talk to him properly, too.”

“Yeah, well,” Sirius rolled onto his back, head still in Dorcas’ lap. “He still didn’t want a relationship after I bared my soul to him, so there we go. And now we’re sharing a room.”

Dorcas let out a hiss of breath. “That’s rough.”

“Okay, alright,” Marlene set her glass down to lean forward conspiratorially as Sirius sucked on his cigarette. “I have a plan. We get catastrophically drunk, dance to Janelle Monáe for a while to forget all our problems, and then when you both come stumbling back to the hotel you can profess your love, suck his dick and then everything will be sorted.”

Sirius rolled his eyes and took a long draw on his cigarette before stubbing it into the ashtray. “Well, I’ve already done one of those and it was great and I think that’s the fucking problem.” Sirius tilted his head and looked over to see James, Lily and Remus standing at the bar waiting for another round of drinks.

 James had already pulled his shirt off and Lily was in a pair of shorts and a bikini top that showed off the flowery sleeve James had given her two years ago. The two of them looked like bloody models together, two halves of a whole and it had been that way for nearly ten bloody years hadn’t it? Sirius definitely wasn’t lonely or jealous. Remus looked glorious in the light too, shirt hanging from his shoulders, wide at the neck to expose his collarbones, the lines of the fabric falling down to his slim-cut chino shorts. Sirius knew his arse was great, that was the problem, and it definitely looked great in those damn shorts. 

Sirius sat up and pulled his own shirt off to drop it next to him. He was almost frustrated that his usual stunning good looks weren’t reeling Remus in like he seemed to be able to reel everyone else in. Sirius was damn attractive and enjoyed the flirting that seemed to happen whenever he wasn’t at work - or maybe occasionally at work but that didn’t please him so much, he was dedicated to his muse as soon as he stepped into the shop - but Remus’ ability to resist him annoyed him. They had great chemistry, didn’t they? It had been wonderful when they got together, and whenever he was looking at Remus like this - so beautiful and alluring - he was so frustrated, sexually and mentally, but he also knew that post-orgasm he would long for all the trimmings of a relationship, and Remus wouldn’t be able to give him that. He’d said as much, hadn’t he? Sirius needed to take his word and not cling to the flashes of heat in Remus’ amber eyes whenever he caught Sirius staring.

“Ah, yeah that might not help too much. But that’s what summer is for, getting drunk and falling in love.” Dorcas drained her glass of sangria in preparation for the others coming back over.

“Stop saying love, it’s definitely not that. He’s just attractive, we have kinda good chemistry. When we’re not arguing or fighting.” Sirius lit another cigarette and watched as the other three came back over to their group of sun-loungers. Sirius watched Remus carefully, frustrated by his sunglasses because he couldn’t tell if Remus was staring at him. He wanted him to be staring, he wanted Remus to want him, he wanted Remus to want every bit of him. Sirius felt like he was on offer, sprawling next to Dorcas - waiting for Remus to realise he could deal with a relationship, with Sirius.

Sirius gave Lily a thankful salute as she threw him a bottle of sunscreen and popped off the top. He leant forward and Dorcas applied some to his shoulders too. Sirius was glad for his sunglasses then, watching Remus for any reaction, but the other man was concentrating on his hand of cards, a wry quirk of a smile on his face as he shuffled through them.

It made Sirius want to scream and he snatched up his sangria to down the rest of it.

 

It was close to 3am when the bar finally cleared out and the staff ushered the six friends back to their rooms. 

Sirius had spent the evening sprawled on a sun-lounger, James next to him, a jug of sangria between them, a straw each in there. By the time they all needed to move back to their rooms, Lily was sat on the edge of the small pool next to the bar, her feet in the still-warm water, looking out over the city with Dorcas, talking about something or other. James and Sirius had been keeping up a slow conversation as well, watching the cloudless sky slowly lose light, but neither of them had spoken through their drunken stupor for a few minutes. Marlene and Remus had been in deep discussion just out of Sirius’ earshot for the past hour or so, and if he weren’t so drunk, Sirius would’ve been concerned by Marlene’s animated gestures and the occasional dark look that crossed Remus’ face. But he was drunk, so he didn’t notice, and only really came back to his body when James shoved his shoulder to head back to their rooms.

They all tumbled into the lift, and paused in the corridor all three of their rooms shared. Dorcas gave Sirius a pointed look in the doorway as she waited for Marlene to peel off from the group. Marlene had other ideas, and was currently leaning into Remus, an arm wrapped around his shoulder. Remus was muttering something in her ear and Sirius had to swallow back a rush of jealousy before he remembered Marlene absolutely disliked penis. 

“What’s the problem then?” Marlene murmured, perhaps louder than she intended. Remus went to reply, glancing up to see Sirius staring at them. Feeling at once like he had looked into a moment he shouldn’t have, Sirius stepped in towards the doorway of his room, his room with Remus, their room. After a moment, Remus ducked to kiss Marlene’s cheek goodnight and ducked through the door, Sirius following shortly after.

Sirius shut the door, wavering pleasantly on his feet as he locked the door and turned to see Remus crouched by his suitcase in the lounge-type area, searching for something. God, he looked gorgeous and Sirius wanted nothing more than to cross over to him and draw him back to his feet to kiss him soundly.

“Padfoot?” Remus’ voice was lilting and drunk and sounds far more Gaelic than Sirius was used to hearing. It struck him that they hadn’t been happily drunk and alone since the birthday party. Sirius felt his heartbeat increase and his cock twitch at the memory of their desperate rutting at the party, then the slow, skilful way Remus took him apart days later at the flat. 

Fuck, how was he meant to do this? He needed to do something, he needed to make Remus realise they could do this. That they could get together and it could be a relationship, more than no-strings but not so horrifically intertwined that everything could go wrong. Sirius didn’t care what he would have to do, he just needed Remus to open up to him. He needed to find out what Remus was hiding, to show him that it was okay to splay himself open just like Sirius had done. There was a reason Remus wasn’t telling him everything, and Drunken Sirius decided that somehow getting Remus to spill his guts was the best thing to do.

“Padfoot?” Remus had stood up and crossed over to him when Sirius’ eyes refocused. 

“Huh? Sorry, Moons - kinda drunk.” 

It was a testament to Remus’ drunkenness that he just huffed something akin to laughter. “You drank a lot of sangria.”

“So did you, didn’t you? You’re definitely not sober.” Sirius pushed off the wall with his shoulder and meandered over to his bed, sitting heavily on the end of it to toe off his shoes. He was so used to wearing boots, even in the summer in London, that anything more lightweight, like the Converse he just kicked off, seemed strange. But then, he was drunk, everything seemed a little strange didn’t it? Their conversation definitely felt strange. This was easily the most words they had said to each other since that Thursday in the coffee shop, bolstered by alcohol, again. 

“No,” Remus sank onto his own bed, toed off his shoes and swung his legs onto the mattress in one long, alluring motion. “I’m definitely not sober.”

Sirius laid back on the bed and tilted his head slightly to watch Remus, who had turned slightly to look at him too, head dropped back to watch the ceiling fan, throat exposed, forearms glinting from the sunlight and he’d tanned already - so unfair, Sirius only burnt. Sirius pushed himself up onto his elbows, already halfway through the motion of tumbling from his own bed and climbing on top of Remus before the thought entered his head that he really shouldn’t.

Remus cocked his head as if what he was seeing was really intriguing somehow, a flash of light collecting in his eyes, and sat up a little straighter too. Sirius pushed his hair back from his face and swung his legs down from the bed, standing and wobbling a little too much to be dignified.

Remus chuckled, running an appraising look over Sirius, shirt still off - in fact, was it still by the pool? - denim shorts low on his hips, the barest hint of dark hairs trailing down his stomach. Sirius preened and stood a little straighter, every muscle taut under his gaze. He crossed over towards the balcony doors, too close to Remus, closer than he should. Remus reached out and slid his fingers around Sirius’ wrist, pulling him to a stop. When Sirius’ gaze stopped swimming, Remus was sat forward, perched on the edge of the bed, hips tilted upwards, knees apart. His eyes were brighter than Sirius had ever seen them, feverish in their drunkenness, luring him in and his fingers were so damn warm on his wrist.

Sirius swallowed and stepped closer. He couldn’t do this. He wanted Remus, he didn’t want rejection, he couldn’t handle not curling up afterwards, walking around the festival holding hands and stealing kisses between the acts, sharing cigarettes and awful overpriced drinks. He didn’t want this to only happen at night, when they were drunk and couldn’t quite swallow down the desire well enough, when it spilled over between them like the lurid glow of a neon sign. He didn’t want a holiday fling, where everything tasted different in the warm climate and skin was on show and hands wandered and desperate kisses were stolen between fruity drinks and then as soon as they were back in grey, beautiful London, everything would sink back into coldness and sweaters and rejection.

He couldn’t do it, couldn’t keep splaying himself open with no promise of anything in return. “Last cigarette of the night?” Sirius muttered, jerking his chin towards the balcony doors.

Remus slid his fingers from Sirius’ wrist and leant back to snatch his cigarettes from the bedside table. When he stood, Sirius had already moved onto the balcony, pressing a shaky hand to his lips and trying to tamp down on the raging fire in his belly. Remus handed him a cigarette and leant forward to light it from the tip of his own. Sirius’ breath hitched at the closeness.

Remus shuddered, maybe it was the sea breeze rolling in from the harbour, or was it the lack of distance between them? Sirius could smell tapas and sangria and Remus’ particular brand of tobacco on the air between them. He unconsciously stretched closer, simultaneously pressing his hips back into the doorframe, shoulders up towards Remus. Remus’ eyes were bright still, the smoke roiling between them, and were they ever more intertwined that now? He ducked down, slid a hand around the back of Sirius’ neck, and exhaled a mouthful of smoke into his waiting mouth. 

It was languidly slow, close, and a painful facsimile of something like intimacy. Like the first night outside Heaven, the moment crawling on and on between them like nothing else seemed important. Sirius inhaled sharply, Remus’ tobacco and sangria and sex, and the only thing he could do was lean up and kiss Remus soundly on his stupid wine-red lips, right over that damn lip ring, smoke spilling out of his mouth.

Remus responded instantly, crowding Sirius against the doorframe, a hand either side of his head, his tongue already seeking entrance into Sirius’ mouth. He was drunk, far too drunk, he could barely stand and he was sure Remus was the same and this was a bad idea. But he couldn’t stop, Remus tasted too divine, the sinful press of his lips and his tongue against his, that tongue piercing and the lingering smoke. Time passed, maybe a second, maybe minutes, Sirius torn between sinking against the doorframe into heady oblivion and pressing resolutely against Remus to memorise every inch of his body.

Sirius dropped his cigarette to the floor and reached up to tangle his hands in Remus’ hair, still warm from the sun and Sirius couldn’t help but moan. Remus’ hands were everywhere at once, over his upper arms, his back, down to his arse to pull them closer. Sirius ran one hand down Remus’ shoulders, over the mottled scar he knew was beneath his t-shirt, over the hard muscles of his back, all corded sinew and braced all around Sirius.

It was the hard heat of Remus’ cock against his hip that pulled Sirius back to reality. He broke the kiss with a gasp and gripped Remus’ shoulders as if the world might upend. “Moony,” he gasped, trying not to snap his hips forward in a traitorous show of desire. “I can’t- I can’t.”

Remus pressed a kiss with just a scrape of his teeth against Sirius’ jaw, but a moment later he felt Remus stop and slowly lift his head from Sirius’ neck as his words sunk in. Sirius wanted to cry.

“I can’t… can’t keep doing this to myself, to you.” Sirius tilted his head up to look at the balcony above them, wondering if they were having as bad a night as he. He couldn’t look Remus in the eye, he couldn’t bring himself to see his pupils blown in the low light, the amber heat of them, the lingering shadow of rejection that might be simmering around the edges. His fingers were still digging into Remus’ shoulders - he wasn’t sure if he could stand on his own two feet or not.

“Padfoot…” Remus stepped back, but not far enough to dislodge Sirius’ grip. 

Sirius couldn’t look at him, just kept staring at the tiled roof and the play of light from the sea onto it. “I keep laying myself bare for you, but you can’t do that for me.”

Remus went taut against him, stepped back a fraction more and Sirius’ hands fell from his shoulders. Sirius clenched his eyes shut, heart hammering in his throat. The door creaked and when Sirius opened his eyes, Remus had gone through to the bathroom, nowhere in sight. Sirius sank into one of the patio chairs and fumbled in his pocket for a cigarette. He stayed there, watching the sea, until the sun started to rise.

Notes:

I wanted to let you guys know I've also been working on a canon compliant fic of the Marauders in Hogwarts (diverging from canon during the First War because that's a clusterfuck) I would love it if some of you went to check it out to give it some love if you're into that kind of thing! It's here.

Chapter 20: Skeleton Bones

 

north wales motorbike crash 2011

accident Criccieth 2011

bike accident Criccieth

motorbike crash Porthmadog 2010

 

Maybe Sirius was starting to lose his mind, but he had gone more than one night with no sleep before, and he could have a worse view than the Barcelona harbour at 6:15am. His phone was running out of battery but he was determined to find something to come to Remus with. He needed a way to get Remus to trust him, to understand that it was okay to be broken and off and wrong and he needed to find out exactly what happened in his motorbike accident to understand him properly.

But searching for a ten-year old accident in a tiny Welsh village working entirely with hazy terms wasn’t too easy. Sirius was good with the internet and social media but he wasn’t a journalist or a detective. He knew where Remus lived in Wales with his parents, he knew he left for Papua New Guinea and Australia just before his 18^th birthday. But finding details on the Internet was a little harder. 

He’d found a few crashes listed in newspaper articles, road closures, court cases, obituaries. But nothing to indicate Remus was involved - who was to say he would even be named by the papers if he were under 18 at the time? But there must be something, there must be one little thread out there that he could catch on to, something he could use to show Remus it was okay. He knew it already - Remus didn’t need to worry about secrets because Sirius knew all about secrets and keeping them and everything awful about childhood. Whatever had happened, Sirius would be there for him and if Remus would just let him in, then they could move on from this stilted pining and onto what he knew they both wanted.

Shoving his phone back into his pocket with a noise of frustration - it had finally run out of battery - Sirius stood and finally slipped back into the room. The curtains had been drawn, but it was still light enough to make out Remus’ sleeping form in the bed, hair all mussed, blankets thrown off to the waist. Sirius quickly looked away and ducked into the bathroom to try and get ready for the day. He probably washed his face and brushed his teeth with a little more vigour that necessary but it served to wake him up a little. At the door back to the bedroom he paused to hear a voice on the other side. He knew he shouldn’t be listening in, somewhere in the back of his brain.

“Yeah, I know Alice.” It was Remus’ voice, quiet and hoarse with sleep. Sirius leant against the doorframe, hating himself for listening but doing it anyway. “I’m not going to, okay? We’ve talked about it, I know. I’m not doing it. Ali- seriously. No. Okay. Yeah, bye. See you on Sunday.”

After a moment, the room fell silent and Sirius took a deep breath before opening the door back into the bedroom. Sirius was resolutely not trying to think about what that conversation might mean - it was none of his business, he was trying not to get attached as it were. He was here this weekend to get drunk and dance to EDM. 

In the room, Remus was on his side, facing the wall, and was probably feigning sleep considering he was having a phone conversation seconds ago. Perhaps Sirius would’ve been more well-equipped for conversation if he had had more than an hour or so of sleep in a deckchair, but in his current state he was thankful for the quiet. Without looking to that half of the room, Sirius got changed into another pair of shorts and a Queen vest - he might be at a very hip festival but he was still a Queen fan in his bones. He ran a brush through his hair, snatched up his cigarettes, phone, wallet and sunglasses before ducking back out of the room. 

A few hours later, Lily found him lounging outside the restaurant waiting for breakfast to open, feet propped on the table. He wasn’t too sure if he was asleep when she approached but the sharp look in her eyes roused him fully.

“Alright, Lils?”

Lily slid into the neighbouring chair and checked her watch. “Yeah, you’re up early Padfoot.”

“Yeah.” Sirius lit a cigarette. “Didn’t sleep too well.”

Lily gave him a piercing look as she leant over to steal a drag of his cigarette. “How did I know you were going to say that? … Do you want to come and kip on the sofa in our room for an hour?”

Sirius shook his head. “Nah, we’re at a festival Lil, I’ll have sugary pancakes for breakfast and start on the beer and then dance all day and that’ll be all I need.”

Lily sighed and combed her fingers through her hair, idly braiding small sections whilst she looked at Sirius - probably trying to decide if he were lying or not. “Okay…” she sighed. Sirius saw James at the other end of the hall but before he could say something Lily spoke again. “Do you need me to speak to Remus?”

James strolled the length of the hall and dropped a kiss onto Lily’s head. “What’s wrong?”

“Pads didn’t sleep well,” Lily supplied. Sirius sighed and sat back in his chair. “I offered him the sofa in our room.”

James seemed to bristle and stand a little straighter. Sirius’ vision of James occasionally wavered between the 12 year old little berk that Sirius used to plot with, flooding the entire third floor bathrooms or trying to convince the local stray dog to chase the caretakers cat, and the 25 year old man before him, married, co-owner of their successful business and the utter bedrock of his life. In that moment James seemed 25 and ready to face down an army for Sirius. “Want me to go talk to the front desk? See if I can switch you to two single rooms instead?”

Sirius stubbed his cigarette out and pushed his chair back with a screech of metal to stand up. “Prongs, I’m fine. Can both of you please stop trying to fight my fucking battles for me? I know, I’m not in the right mind sometimes, especially where family’s concerned but we’re on holiday, for fuck’s sake. I want to have a good time and for you to both stop worrying about me and harping on. Alright? Just give me a fucking break for a minute, and stop fussing. If I’m not okay, I’ll say, I am not completely nuts.” Sirius let out a huff of breath and stepped around the deck chairs towards breakfast. “Alright? For fuck’s sake let’s just have fun.”

Lily worried her bottom lip with her teeth and James shoved a hand through his hair. “Sirius…” James never called him Sirius, not unless something was really wrong. But nothing was wrong, Sirius was fine, he just needed a beer and pancakes. 

Sirius shrugged one shoulder and threw a hand over his shoulder to indicate through to breakfast. “Shall we?”

 

Breakfast was a stilted affair, Marlene, Dorcas and Remus eventually coming down to join them, drinking coffee and eating pancakes, fruit, bacon, all of the trappings of hotel breakfast. Sirius didn’t really speak, too tired, too on edge, too aware of the dark circles under Remus’ eyes as he sat at the other end of the table, speaking to Marlene and Lily and probably lamenting everything wrong with sharing a room with Sirius.

After probably far too much coffee, Sirius pushed his chair back and muttered something to James about going up to the bar until it was time to head through to the festival. He wanted to get drunk as soon as humanly possible. And Remus was being so annoyingly placid about the whole thing, like they hadn’t kissed again last night, like it didn’t sit in Remus’ stomach like lead, like he didn’t care a bit.

Once they were inside the festival, Lily took charge and led them to the VIP area, where there was a pool, a seemingly endless table of food, and a wonderful platform to view the stage from. Sirius sighed. He quite liked being a VIP, sure, but he also really loved getting out into the crowd and dancing with strangers. He sidled up to Marlene - who loved festivals and dancing and debauchery and usually used them as an excuse to dress outlandishly, but she was surprisingly covered up, at the moment at least - and leant over to murmur to her.

“Want to go get out in the crowd?”

Marlene grinned and slung an arm around his waist. “Shots at the VIP bar first? Free drinks, isn’t it.”

Sirius grinned wider and kissed her on the cheek. “I do love you, Marls.”

Marlene steered them towards the bar and tightened her arm around his waist. “I love you too, even if we’re drinking rather than talking to a certain someone, I know you need it sometimes.” She ordered a few shots of tequila and passed a handful to Sirius, who did them in quick succession.

“Yeah, well. He doesn’t want to speak to me, Marls, and I don’t want to think about it.” 

Sirius watched, jaw set, as Marlene did her own shots before taking her hand and leading them back out into the crowd. He didn’t care what act was playing, he didn’t care he didn’t quite know the music, his body seemed to recognise it, distantly. The thrumming of the beat was all he needed, Marlene at his hip, both of them pressed together in the crowd, a handsome taller man at his other shoulder and Sirius didn’t care.

His shirt was gone somewhere, had he given it to Marlene to put in her bag, or tied it around his waist or shoved the corner of it through his belt? He didn’t care, dancing with Marlene and a million other bodies and not thinking about a body he’d rather be pressed against. Sirius glanced back up to the VIP area, able to see through to the people leaning against the balcony to watch the crowd. He felt like he could’ve spotted Remus from miles away, his tall frame, the glint of his auburn hair in the sun, that throat piercing like a fucking lighthouse, drawing him in and telling him to stay away from the cliffs all in the same breath.

Remus saw him, dancing, hair tousled around his shoulders, pale skin in the bright sunlight. Sirius was too far away to see if heat flashed through his eyes. Sirius hoped savagely that it did, he hoped that Remus regretted the fact he didn’t do relationships, regretted the fact he couldn’t just bare himself to Sirius, and hoped he wondered whether he had truly lost Sirius now.

Sirius thought idly about whether he should go and find someone good-looking to make out with, but the thought was hazy in his drunkenness. He would probably regret it as soon as he kissed the person and didn’t taste Remus’ tobacco, the swipe of his lip ring and the coolness of his tongue piercing. Sirius looked away from Remus at the balcony and turned back to the stage.

 

In the break between acts, Marlene and Sirius went back up to the VIP area. Dorcas was chatting animatedly to a group - she’d clearly made friends, as she usually did wherever she was - and Lily and James were sat with their feet in the pool, Lily’s head on her husbands shoulders, the two of them a picture of marital happiness that made Sirius’ heart soar and ache at the same time. Marlene kissed his cheek and went to over to see Dorcas. 

Sirius sighed and went to the bar to order a beer. He took a sip and looked over to see Remus at the other end of the bar, watching the crowd with a cool detachment Sirius wanted to knock off his beautiful face. Sirius strolled over and pushed his hip into the side of the bar, hyper-aware of the moment Remus looked up at him.

Remus sighed softly and looked back out over the crowd.

Sirius turned his head and watched too, seeing Lily splash water all over James before he tackled her into a kiss that was more laughter than lips. Marlene had wound her arm around Dorcas’ waist, the two of them so comfortable wrapped together, carrying on conversation. Sirius took a fortifying drink of his beer, he didn’t dare look at Remus as he said, “Don’t you want that?”

Sirius felt the air change around them, practically holding his breath as he watched Lily and James, Marlene and Dorcas, that beautiful couple on the other side of the terrace who Sirius thought he might follow on Instagram.

“Sirius…”

Sirius took another swig of his beer, he still couldn’t look. Or he’d be lost in those amber eyes and he’d have to lean over and kiss him - Christ, those shots were a bad idea. “I am being serious,” but his voice didn’t hold any humour, “don’t you? You don’t want that? You’d rather have the bathrooms at Heaven with someone who doesn’t know you, who doesn’t know you inside out, doesn’t know what you like, whose face doesn’t light up whenever you walk in the room?”

Remus sighed. Sirius still didn’t look over. The silence yawned between them. “I do want that.” Sirius looked over then, saw Remus staring out over the festival, knuckles white on his drink. “You have no idea how much I want that, Sirius. I want that with you. But we don’t always get what we want.”

“Why the fuck not?” Sirius didn’t intend to whisper, but it came out like that anyway.

“Because life happens, Padfoot.” Remus took a swill of his drink and sighed again. “I have a lot of… baggage.”

Sirius snorted with laughter and immediately regretted it when Remus flinched. “You think I don’t, Moons? I have so much fucking baggage I need a forklift truck.”

“Is it a competition now?” Remus’ voice went steely as he looked away.

“No, I didn’t mean that. I mean… Christ,” Sirius leant on the bar, wishing Remus would look at him now. “That shouldn’t stop us, you know all of me. You’ve heard the arguments with Reg, my fucking nightmares, and I’m sure James has told you all about my family.”

“He hasn’t actually, he respects your privacy.”

Sirius chewed the corner of his lip. “So let me in. Please. Let me carry some of yours.”

“You’ve got enough of your own.” 

“That’s not how it works, Moony.” 

“Well, that’s how it is for me, Padfoot.” Remus set down his now empty cup, still staring resolutely out over the terrace. James was in the pool now, swimming idly but still looking like an Olympian in that infuriating way James took to every sport. Lily watched on with the fondest look Sirius had ever seen. He felt a well of emotion stick in his throat.

“Well, what do you want from me? What can I do to prove it to you, that I’m serious, that we won’t fuck this up?” Sirius often wondered if madness ran in the family. Wally had always been crazy, Bella would’ve been sectioned years ago if it weren’t for the money Aunt Druella threw at the doctors, and hadn’t his father’s mother lost her mind before she died? Sirius felt like the madness was clinging to him like seaweed around his legs. He was trying to wade out of the sea, stand on his own two legs and it was pulling him back under. “What do you want, Moony? A fucking serenade? Flowers and chocolates? A fucking ring? A grand proposal with a fucking flash mob? I’ll do it, Prongs makes a great fucking backing dancer!” Sirius laughed but it sounded hollow, lifted up out of his throat on lies and empty words, his voice lilting into hysterical.

Remus clenched his eyes shut and Sirius wanted to scream. Remus slid off his stool and turned to him. “Just give me time, Sirius.” He reached out to touch Sirius’ arm but Sirius jerked back, stepping up against the bar and looking away, a muscle in his jaw twitching. Remus’ arm fell back to his side.

Sirius nodded, his whole body felt like it was imploding, about to wrench itself apart and turn in on itself and for the first time in a long time he felt the crows at his shoulders whilst he was awake. “Fine,” he managed to grit out as the world pitched sideways and his hands clenched on the bar to keep himself upright. This was why he didn’t want to get involved. He couldn’t handle the rejection, it was clear Remus didn’t care enough, and here he was being thrown out and disowned by yet another fucking person in his life that he wasn’t fucking good enough for.

When he looked back up, Remus had gone over to Marlene and Dorcas, and Sirius didn’t miss the curious glance Marlene gave him across the terrace. He downed the rest of his beer and went to sit next to Lily and James. Neither of them really knew how to speak to him after his outburst earlier that morning, but they spoke in pleasantries and danced for the rest of the day into the evening.

 

Sirius stumbled into the lift and jabbed at the button for his floor. Tonight he was determined to sleep in his own bed, instead of outside in a deckchair or sprawled across a sun-lounger. Everyone else was in bed already, James finally leaving him with a clap on the shoulder after trying to talk through half a packet of cigarettes at the bar when they had come back from the festival. 

He found his room remarkably easily for how much his vision was swimming, and it only took two attempts to get the keycard to play nicely. He realised too late though, as he let the door slam shut behind him, that he was attempting to be quiet, and made a futile attempt to grab it before the noise echoed through the room. It still banged shut.

“Padfoot?” Remus’ voice was croaky with sleep, like after the party, when they’d curled under the blanket together and Sirius felt bared.

“Don’t mind me-” Sirius kicked off his shoes and stripped down to his boxers. He didn’t look across to Remus’ bed, the sound of his voice was too much, never mind the sight of him scruffy with sleep, shirt hanging off one shoulder. “Just- just getting into bed.”

It was only when Sirius flopped onto his bed, only half under the covers, did he risk looking over to Remus, who was watching him curiously in the near-pitch black of the room.

“I wonder,” Remus said so quietly Sirius wasn’t sure if he’d heard it over the roaring of the blood in his ears, the incessant chatter of his drunken mind, “if I tell you something now, will you remember it in the morning?”

Sirius hiccuped. “Your guess is as good as mine, Moony.”

Remus chuckled but Sirius thought it sounded a little sad. “I’m sorry, Pads. I really am.”

Sirius wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, if they had spoken any further or Sirius had slipped under the heavy blanket of sleep once he had nodded and whispered “I am too.” 

But it was dawn when he woke again, and he stared out of the window as the sky grew brighter, the dim faraway pink of a sunrise. After a while he reached over for his phone and opened the browser.

 

north wales motorbike crash 2011

accident Criccieth 2011

bike accident Criccieth

motorbike crash Porthmadog 2010

Chapter 21: Liquor Bottles

Notes:

a slight pre-emptive tag for some darker stuff here, so look after yourself! Sirius makes some bad choices with alcohol and not letting decisions go!

 

Sirius slept in on Saturday morning, after browsing his phone for all the old news he could find from the arse-end of nowhere in Wales, throwing it down in frustration and burying his face in his pillow when he found nothing again. He stayed there, listening to Remus stir, shower and dress, and just burrowed further into his covers until he heard Remus leave the room a while later. He didn’t care what time it was when he finally surfaced to the sound of knocking at the door.

In hindsight, when he first stirred at dawn he was probably still drunk, but now the cotton-mouthed, dry-heaving pain of a hangover was there in full-force as Sirius lifted his head from the pillow. “Fuck off!”

“It’s Prongs, don’t tell me to fuck off you wanker, I brought you toast and coffee!” James’ voice boomed from the other side of the door and Sirius muffled another groan into his pillow before rolling off the bed and tripping towards the door, bleary-eyed and, mercifully, still in his boxers.

James laughed in his face when Sirius pulled the door open, and Sirius let it swing back shut, grumbling about his best mate’s completely imperviousness to any whiff of a hangover. James stepped into the room with a handful of buttered toast wrapped in a napkin in one hand, and a takeaway cup of coffee in the other. “Breakfast closed, so I thought I’d better save you something. You were putting away the sangria last night.”

“Yep,” Sirius agreed, plucking up a piece of toast from where James set it down on the dresser and shoving half of it in his mouth before draining half of the coffee. “And I intend to do the same today.”

“I’m not going to pry,” James started, holding his hands up in defence as he sat on the edge of Sirius’ bed. But he opened his mouth as if to continue.

“Good,” Sirius retorted, effectively cutting him off as he chewed on another piece of toast and strolled through to the bathroom to start the shower up. He heard James sigh as he moved to lean against the bathroom door, unwilling to let a conversation go.

“It’s a good job neither of us have any shame,” Sirius said as he went to the loo then stripped and stepped under the shower, eager to bring the subject away from his behaviour the past two days. James just chuckled, completely unabashed as usual, and ran a hand through his hair whilst Sirius quickly showered to try and shift some more of the fuzzy hangover clinging to him like a fog.

“Over a decade living together will do that, huh?” James ate another piece of toast as he idly wandered over to the mirror to fuss with his hair a little more.

“That and we’re both shameless bastards, I think mate.” Sirius stepped out of the shower, snagging a towel to dry his hair and already feeling better about the prospect of another fucking day. “Everyone else already headed to the festival? What time even is it?”

“It’s midday-ish, everyone is making their way over, yeah. Dorcas was having a fit if you’d miss Janelle.” James chuckled, wiping his hands of toast crumbs and strolling back through to the bedroom area to sprawl on Sirius’ bed. Sirius followed him a moment later, towel slung around his waist, hair still damp. 

“I won’t miss Janelle. God she’s obsessed.” Sirius rolled his eyes, bumping James out of the way of his suitcase with his hip, pulling on a black vest and another pair of black shorts. 

James laughed and reached for the coffee to take a swig. “Remember when you used to wear colours other than black?”

Sirius quirked an eyebrow and ran his fingers through his hair in lieu of a comb. “No? I wore the Gryffindor colours for rugby only, Prongs. I’ll stop wearing black when they make a darker colour.”

James rolled his eyes and slung an arm around Sirius’ shoulders. “C’mon, let’s go and meet the others.”

Sirius lit a cigarette as soon as they were outside, walking the short distance across the road to the festival in a relatively companionable quiet. Sirius could tell James was still bristling from his outburst the previous day, an odd underlying current between them that tended to cling after their very occasional disagreements. James had always looked after Sirius, the same way Sirius had always looked out for James in school. True, James didn’t have the same tumultuous upbringing Sirius had, he was so much more secure in himself - and it was easier to see why once Sirius moved in with Euphemia and Fleamont, they were perfect parents - but Sirius was always there to bail him out of stupid pranks or idiotic choices or fighting that one arsehole who couldn’t keep his mouth shut. James was always, always there to help him pick up the pieces at every hairpin turn of his life, and he could tell James was struggling with the idea of not being able to help Sirius somehow, of his help being denied.

At the gates to the festival, where they flashed their VIP bands, Sirius slung an arm around James’ middle. “You know I’m an arsehole, right? I’m just fucking grumpy and angsty about my fucking cesspit of a life. I still love you.”

James peered at him for a moment over his prescription sunglasses before his face bloomed into a signature Potter grin. “I love you too, you fucking arsehole. Your life isn’t a cesspit, you have me and Lily, we have the shop. You have all your fucking followers.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, swallowing down a strange swath of guilt. Yeah, he did have all of that, didn’t he? So why did he only want Remus? 

Just then, as if to remind him, a teenage girl came up and tapped Sirius on the shoulder. “Um, hi, are you- Sirius Black and James Potter? You are, aren’t you? Can we get a photo with you-” she indicated back to another two girls stood a short distance back- “if that’s alright?”

Sirius grinned, shucking a hand through his hair and catching James doing the same. “Of course, love.” They did the expected, arms around shoulders, smiling nicely for the cameras, brief hugs and an encouraging chuckle when one of the girls exclaimed she was saving up to get a tattoo at their studio as soon as she was able. 

Civic duty done - James hit Sirius in the stomach at that quip - the pair headed up to the VIP area and made a beeline for the bar. Sirius got halfway through bringing his pint to his mouth for a drink when he cast a look around the terrace and saw a rather fancy looking fountain. A fountain with glasses next to it, and a woman dipping her glass under one of the falls.

“Is that-” Sirius stalled and frowned- “is that a fucking liquor fountain?”

James followed his eye-line and bumped Sirius’ shoulder on the way over to check it out. Sirius downed half of his pint in the short distance across to it, brimming with happiness that he hadn’t had to deal with Remus or any of the others so far today. James snatched up one of the glasses and captured some of the fountain in his glass. “Yeah… it’s gin… what the fuck, why is there a gin fountain?”

Sirius chuckled, impressed, and downed the rest of his beer. “Must be some fancy VIP shite… a ‘photo opportunity’ or something?” He dunked his glass into one of the fountain sprays to retrieve a pint glass full of gin. “20 quid says you get a ‘photo opportunity’ of me trying to swim in this by the afternoon.”

 

Sirius didn’t take much notice of anything else for the rest of the day. He was too concerned to see if he could actually empty the gin fountain, eventually dancing with Dorcas to Janelle Monáe and slinging his arm around James’ shoulders to shout along with Frank Carter in a fit of nostalgia for The Gallows. He found that he didn’t particularly care if Remus was beside him or not, or that they hadn’t said two words to each other since the night before in drunken stupor. He didn't care when their eyes met across the terrace, Sirius in the pool, clothes be damned, Remus sprawled on a lounger looking like he’d walked right the pages of GQ. Sirius just smiled benignly and turned back to splash water all over Marlene. He didn’t care, he couldn’t allow that space within him to care, he refused to come to Remus without a fully fledged reason for them to give it a go. He felt like he was getting close last night, in his drunkenness, knee-deep in decade-old news articles about motorcycle crashes with his heart in his throat thinking about Remus in those situations, himself in those situations.

By the time the evening rolled around, legs aching from dancing, head pounding from the constant teetering between carefree drunkenness and the roiling acid of another bloody hangover, Sirius was floating somewhere above tired and wired. He stumbled into the foyer of their hotel with one arm around James’ shoulders and the other looped around Lily’s waist. His head was on James’ shoulder, reminiscing idly about Eton, the pranks they pulled, the easiness of it all, the straightforward way things were laid out. Even discovering his sexuality didn’t seem so much of a hurdle, it was something he accepted so easily, the same way he accepted he was never going to be like his brother, never going to be what his family wanted, the same way he accepted that Marauder Ink was his life now, and little else really mattered.

So why did he find it so hard to accept what Remus wanted? Remus wanted time, but hadn’t Sirius given him enough of that already? It had been months, they knew each other well enough, and there was nothing to say they couldn’t get to know each other even better whilst dating. He could feel it in his bones, he and Remus would be good together, so why couldn’t they just give it a go? 

Sirius peeled off from the rest of the group at the stairs. He was too drunk for the lurching of the lift, feeling too out of his body to squash next to Remus or press against Marlene’s thigh or rest his head on James’ shoulder in such a confined space without feeling like he might come apart at the seams. He took the stairs instead, going straight for the rooftop bar and lighting a cigarette when he stepped out. It was quiet, the bar already closed, the terrace only open for smokers, and Sirius heaved a sigh of relief when he found it empty.

Sitting heavily on one of the chairs, Sirius pulled out his phone and immediately winced at the bright light of the screen in the inky black of midnight. He had slept enough last night, perhaps tonight he could figure out things with Remus, for Remus, about Remus. He was getting so close, he could taste the shape of the other man’s secrets under his tongue, roll them around to try and find the words, if only they would come.

Sirius settled back, kicking his feet up onto the adjacent chair, and began his searches anew - trying different search terms, different search engines, manually scrolling through online newspaper articles. He was determined to find something, determined to give Remus something, give him the impetus to splay himself open like Sirius had done that day after his argument with Regulus. He wanted that moment of closeness back, the moment of vulnerability that passed over Remus’ face as they curled up together and Sirius had traced the pink of his scars with the pink of his tongue. He’d never felt more connected to a lover before in his life than that day with Remus.

The chair fell back onto four legs with a crack that echoed across the skyline as Sirius sat forward to read an article that looked promising. He skimmed it first, looking for anything at all that might point him in the right direction. The town was right, a crash outside Criccieth, the time was right, the summer of 2010 would’ve made Remus 16. His heart in his throat, Sirius found the part he was looking for. 

Hope, mother of the boy involved, who cannot be named for legal reasons, implored anyone with information to come forward. “If anyone knows where Mr Greyback is, I would beg you to tell someone. Our son has been left irreparably changed by this incident and although justice will not return things to normal, it will go a long way to help with the emotional healing.”

Shit. Shit, shit shit. Remus’ mother was called Hope, wasn’t she?

Had he found it? Had he finally found something? Apparently this man was charged with leaving the scene of an accident, leaving Remus at the scene of an accident.

“Greyback, Greyback,” Sirius muttered as he opened a new window in and typed the name, watching in horror as a slew of articles sprang up. Wanted in connection with a motorcycle crash in Criccieth, 2010, wanted for a whole host of petty crime in the same area, wanted for questioning in suspected grooming charges in the area too. Shit, fuck and balls, he had finally found something.

Fuck, he could do something with this, he could finally understand Remus and why he locked himself away behind all those walls and maybe he would finally let Sirius in. Sirius held his breath and scrolled through more news articles.

Fenrir Greyback Wanted for Questioning in Relation to Crash

More Reports of Alleged Abuse Come out as Police Investigate Greyback

Suspect Greyback Thought to Have Left the Country

Fuck. Sirius’ knuckles turned white on the edges of his phone at the thought of 16 year old Remus being around this man. The anger boiled up in his throat, a sharp thrust of acidity that burned his throat. Everyone was so impressionable at 16, and there was Remus with- with, with this animal of a man, all lurid grins and too sharp teeth in an old mugshot, wild haired and dangerous. God, had he- fuck.

Sirius threw his phone onto the adjacent chair and stood up, raking a hand through his hair. His hands were shaking, he realised somewhere in the depths of his half-hangover, his jaw clenched. He wanted to scream with the horror of it all, wanted to upend all the furniture of the bar and stamp it into a million tiny pieces for how much he hurt, for how much he imagined Remus hurt too. He was halfway to the lift before he realised he shouldn’t bring this to Remus until he had calmed down.

If he wanted to show Remus he was able to be trusted, he was just as willing to shoulder secrets, and shoulder them together, then he needed to be responsible. He couldn’t slip into the old ways of 16 year old Sirius Black, lashing out at everything, hating the world because it hated him and had given him such a shit hand in life, the burn of cocaine at the back of his throat, the sharp half-moons of Walburga’s nails in his arm. If he’d met Remus then, would he have known? Would he have seen the hallmarks of trauma across his face, the way he carried his own? Would they have been able to fall into each other and fix it together before all the walls sprang up?

Sirius let out a long breath and sank back into the chair, head tilted back to stare up at the night sky. The light pollution wasn’t as bad as London here, and being so high up meant the street noise seemed miles away. Instinctively, grey eyes flickered up over the shifting dark of the sky and sought out the constellations of his childhood. 

There was Sirius, though he felt far from bright. There was Regulus, just peeking out over the edge of a building, and Sirius wondered idly what his brother was doing, whether he’d approve of Sirius’ snooping, how he did so much worse under the header of Black Enterprises. And as always, there was Orion, hanging in the sky the same way his presence seemed to hang over Grimmauld Place, a heavy curtain over Sirius’ life until he ran out of there. He felt the curtain again at that moment, wrapping over the hot ribbons of anger. He wanted nothing more than to storm down to Remus and exclaim he would happily expend every penny of his savings to hunt down Fenrir Greyback and annihilate him. 

By the time he had detailed enough permutations of how exactly to rip Greyback into pieces for what he’d done to Remus to satisfy his bloodlust, the sun was casting a hazy pre-dawn pink over Barcelona. Time to go home today, Sirius thought as he drifted out of a strange almost-sleep, knuckles white on his knees, bags a bruised purple under his eyes.

His phone roused him, a soft reminding ding that their flight was due to leave around midday. Sirius sighed and slowly rose from his seat, testing the stiffness in his shoulder before trudging down to the rooms. He let himself in to the room, slipping through the door to see the curtains shut, the dawn light still peeling past the corners of the drapery to throw a pinkish glow over the room. With another sigh, Sirius toed off his shoes and ducked into the bathroom for a hot shower. He took his time in the hot water, trying to wash away the dregs of the past few days, clinging to him like the smog of London, the musty air of the basement of Grimmauld Place that intruded on the edges of his mind every so often. When he stepped out of the bathroom, towel around his waist, Remus was there, propped up on one elbow in bed, staring blearily at his phone. 

“Morning,” Sirius hummed as he crossed over to his suitcase. 

“You didn’t come back last night.” Remus put his phone down and shifted a little. Sirius dropped his towel, uncaring of his nakedness, and pulled on his underwear and jeans, savagely hoping it thrills Remus’ insides to see what he could be having.

“Nah, wasn’t tired, didn’t want to disturb you.”

“You look tired now,” Remus shot back, swinging his legs off the bed and lifting his arms above his head to stretch with a feline grace that tugged sweetly at Sirius’ insides. 

“Yeah, ah well.” Sirius straightened, pulling on his shirt and dropping a few items close at hand into his case. He paused after a moment, feeling his blood boil just at the thought of Remus’ secrets, the parts of him locked away, the parts Sirius wanted to bare. “Moons… I-”

“Oi, losers!” Dorcas’ voice sang from the other side of the door, followed by a rapid series of knocks.

“Dorcas, I swear, if they’re-”

Sirius crossed to the door and pulled it open, trying to decide if he should be thankful to the duo for rescuing him from spilling his guts to Remus and either starting World War III or getting his heart broken entirely. “Hi, God you two are too cheery in the morning.”

“We’re going down for breakfast, and pre-fight mimosas, then we can come back up and pack?”

“Sure,” Remus’ voice sounded from behind Sirius, and he glanced back to see Remus still in his pyjamas, hair mussed but stood at his shoulder. “I’ll see you down there in five? Just need to get dressed.”

“Alright, we can grab a table,” Marlene said, already starting down the hallway with Dorcas. 

Sirius balked at the idea of being left alone with Remus again, the rush of confidence that had spurred him to open his damn mouth washed away now he was presented with actual sane options. He snagged his shoes from the doorway and tripped after them, hair still wet, pulling on his shoes as he went. “I’ll come with you.”

Dorcas raised an eyebrow, but held her arm out nonetheless, and tucked Sirius under her shoulder as they walked to the lift. After a moment she glanced at Marlene, then back to Sirius. “We won’t dog you like James and Lily are doing, but if you want to talk, we’re here.”

Sirius nodded and squeezed an affectionate arm around Dorcas’ middle. “Yeah. Listen, I really am fine. I know I must look a wreck, but I’m just not sleeping well away from home, alright?”

They strolled into the restaurant, to James and Lily - always the early risers - already holding a table for them. Sirius poured himself a coffee and wondered if he’d ever sleep through the night again.

Chapter 22: Open Wounds

Notes:

Talk of some dark things here, nothing explicit but plenty referenced. If these tags aren't your jam, please look after yourself. Also, thank you to my boo Purplechimera for finding the base photo of this chapters Instagram post - we spent such a long time searching for photos of people in fountains!

 

Sirius packed in a hurry, throwing all of his belongings into his case and shoving at it until it finally zipped shut. The less time he spent alone with Remus the better. Every time he looked at him, over breakfast, in the lift back to their floor - everyone quietly sombre for the impending return of reality - in the yawning silence of their room, Sirius felt the knowledge of Remus’ secrets at the edge of his tongue.

He wanted to burst with it and scream Moony, I know. I know what happened, I want to rip him apart for what he did to you so just let me in, please. But it stuck every time, the feeling of his phone in his back pocket, web page still open on that damn article, burning through to his skin with the heaviness of it. Sirius dragged his case out of the room the moment it zipped shut, and sat in the reception until the others surfaced, his lips pressed in a tight line to stop the words just spilling out.

At the airport, the obligatory departure lounge pint didn’t do much to help. He wasn’t tipsy, not by a long shot, but it made him talk a little more, made him wonder out loud if he had successfully pickled his insides after four days of non-stop drinking. He slumped into a seat by their gate, idly listening to Lily and Dorcas talk about the shelter, and thumbed open his phone. The web pages were still there, staring at him, screaming, shouting, say something, say something. Remus was at the next bench over with Marlene and James, discussing sports. With a sigh, Sirius bookmarked the pages and switched to Instagram, hoping some mindless browsing of pretty pictures would succeed in turning his brain off for a while. 

“Padfoot?” Lily shook his shoulder as she shrugged her bag onto the other arm. “We’re boarding, let’s go.”

Sirius hummed back some noise of assent and shoved his phone back into his pocket, picking up his bag as he did. He followed Lily onto the plane, double checked his seat number and froze in the gangway when he was presented with Remus in the seat next to his, long legs all folded awkwardly. He looked up and saw Sirius staring, and he could practically see the word fuck etched in the air between them. Sirius looked up to see Lily looking at him, eyes wide in worry, from a few rows back. He straightened, went to step past to ask, no, beg, any of the others to swap with him, but then the stewardess ushered him to his seat. 

“Hey Pads,” Remus intoned, the in-flight magazine open on his knee but he was looking at it with glassy eyes now.

“Moons…” Sirius sank into his seat, fumbling his seatbelt closed before dropping his head back to stare at the ceiling and wonder why life was so fucking ridiculous. When he pulled out his phone to switch it onto airplane mode, his heart sprang into his throat with such fire that he nearly choked on it. Say something, say something, say something.

“Excuse me, sir,” The stewardess’ voice was gentle but firm, “could you turn your phone off, just for take off, please?”

Damn, damn damn. He was so close to saying something, so close to breaching the walls they both had thrown up. But dutifully, he turned his phone off and rested it in his lap, eyes fluttering closed in a desperate attempt to block out the rest of the world.

“Reckon you’ll sleep better back home?” Remus muttered, quiet in the ambient noise of the plane, but Sirius heard it like Remus had spoken directly into his brain instead.

“Huh?”

Remus raised an eyebrow - the silver balls there caught the wan yellow of the overhead lights - and crooked a half-smile. “By my count, you’ve had about eight hours of sleep in the past three days. You must be knackered, Padfoot.”

Sirius shrugged, his invisible hackles rising at the audacity Remus had to bring up something that was half his fault anyway. So what if he sounded concerned, amber eyes looking so wide and honest like he genuinely cared - hah! - about the fact Sirius hadn’t slept. So instead of nodding, of biting his lip and admitting that yeah, yeah he was so fucking tired that he wondered if the world would ever come back into full focus, he deflected. “Yeah, well. I’m used to it. Insomnia is a bitch.”

He didn’t say what he really wanted to say, the words under his tongue, behind his teeth like Remus’ secrets. He didn’t say I slept well enough when you took me to pieces with your fucking mouth, Moony. Come back to me, let me in, let me in dammit!

Remus just nodded, turning back to the in-flight magazine with the detached coolness Sirius remembered from the first few days at the shop. Oh, so they’ve gone back to that, have they? Gone back to polite looks and awkwardly slipping out of the room on a poor excuse when it’s just the two of them, instead of rutting in empty corridors like teenagers and sharing a cigarette wrapped in Sirius’ sheets in the most blissful quiet he’d ever known? He couldn’t stand it.

Sirius fumbled his phone back on as soon as the seatbelt sign flickered to life, unable to stand the weight of it burning his palm. When it sprang to life he hovered over the web icon, and heaved a sigh before clicking it open. For a moment, it felt like he didn’t need oxygen at all, his chest constricting and twisting as he turned his phone around and held it out to Remus.

He glanced over, and Sirius saw the exact moment he realised what he was looking at flit across his face. For a moment, Sirius was optimistic, watching for that vulnerability, the slow drift of the ocean to bring them together. But instead, Remus’ eyes went steely, a flash of cold, harder than titanium, impenetrable. Sirius’ fingers clenched around his phone, went white at the edges.

“What the fuck, Sirius?” Remus had sounded detached before, sounded cool and aloof but the sheer ice in his voice terrified Sirius, the slight shake at the end of his words, the rawness of it.

“I-” Sirius swallowed back the well of fear from his throat and tried for the words through the sinking realisation that it had all gone wrong. “I thought-”

“What, what did you think?” Remus’ voice was low and tremulous. “Did you fucking think, Sirius? Or did you just go snooping? What did you expect to happen, now you’ve found out what kind of stupid mistakes I made at sixteen?”

“I just… fuck,” Sirius scraped a hand through his hair, fingers shaking now, from adrenaline, from fear, from the lack of sleep, from the hangover that had been brewing for days and now every pit of emotion he’d ever buried was coming back up to pour forth from his stupid mouth. “I didn’t want you to have to keep a secret.” 

“I wasn’t keeping it for you.”

Sirius frowned, staring at the text of the safety card resting in front of him without really seeing it. “What do you mean, your mistakes? It wasn’t your fault.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t know a thing about beyond what you read in some decade-old newspaper article, Sirius. All you did was invade my privacy and find out something I didn’t want to tell you, for a valid reason.” Remus pushed a hand over his mouth, fingers resting on the black of his lip ring for a moment. “How- how would you feel if I just went and read everything I could about your family without coming to talk to you about it, went behind your back to dig into your past?”

“I… Moony, I just-”

“What did you read then, huh?” Remus spoke over him, looking back to Sirius for the first time, his amber eyes so cold and impassive, wider and brighter than Sirius had ever seen them before. It made him long for that wonderfully glassy-hot molten swirl through the smoke and the vodka. “Go on, you know everything now, don’t you?”

Sirius gestured uselessly with his phone. “That Greyback-” Remus flinched ever so slightly- “was involved with your crash… that he was wanted for a whole lot of… of other things.”

Remus huffed a breath and shook his head. “You’re fucking unbelievable Sirius.”

Letting his eyes close briefly, Sirius reached for his seatbelt and went to stand up. “I’m sorry. I’m going to ask Lils to swap seats-”

“No you fucking won’t,” Remus spat as he grabbed Sirius’ arm and pulled him back into his seat, knuckles white, fingers digging in. “You’ll sit and listen if you wanted to know so badly.”

Sirius nodded shakily, subtly trying to shift away from Remus but his grip was tight.

“I was fourteen. I made stupid mistakes, acted out, got involved with the wrong crowd. Greyb- He was a lot older than me, mid-twenties maybe, but he was cool, you know? Dangerous and exciting and rode a motorbike. And I was his, he liked me best, and it made everyone else like me even more. I’m sure you don’t know what it’s like being the only queer boy for miles, Sirius, but it’s so good when someone sees you, that you’ll excuse almost anything.”

Sirius shook his head, like trying to shake off cobwebs, but they stuck, clung to him like Remus’ words. His fingers were still biting into Sirius’ arm, cold and impassive just like his eyes and his voice and oh, he had judged this so wrong. He never should’ve opened his fucking mouth. “Moons…”

“You ignore everything else and pretend it’s all okay, just for feeling loved and wanted. Then he left me in the forest to die. He - I don’t know - lost control of the bike, skidded into the forest. I got stuck under the bike. That ‘moon’ scar? From the gas tank, burning into me. I must’ve passed out. I don’t remember anything except the smell of it all burning, then I woke up in the hospital six days later. He’d left. Just up and walked away from the wreck and left me to burn and die in the forest because I wasn’t useful any more. Apparently I was there for hours before they found me. My pelvis was broken in four places, I’ve metal plates in both my legs and my left arm. It took me six months to walk again. But that didn’t even hurt compared to the fucking betrayal of it, Sirius. I thought he loved me, thought he cared for me. But he didn’t.”

Sometimes Sirius’ vivid imagination was a blessing, other times it was a fucking curse. He could just see Remus, in the forest, the burning wreckage of a bike, in the hospital, gritting his teeth at the pain. Sirius swallowed and let his head fall back against the seat, his heart ablaze with indignation, with fury at the world, at himself - he wanted to burn away everything.

“And then,” Remus’ tone turned light and conversational, chilling, “I found out he’d been abusing my friends for years. Two years we’d been friends, and for every single moment of those two years he’d been going to everyone else in our friend group and-” Remus shook his head and wiped furiously at the hot, angry tears beneath his eyes with the back of his wrist. Sirius wanted to scream. 

“I knew, some part of me had to know. I had to know, I couldn’t miss the scratches on his arms, on his face, the awful looks, the way Cerys couldn’t be in the same room as him after that camping trip, or the way Dylan would always tense at his name.”

“Moony… I didn’t mean for it to…” Sirius felt like the crows were at his shoulders, Walburga’s claws at his arm. Fuck, fuck, he had made such a mistake. 

“You know? I had to know, but I kept quiet. Because I was his favourite and I felt liked. But then, when it all came out… I couldn’t help but think, why me? He never- he never did anything like that with me, to me. What was wrong with me that I was his favourite but he was doing that to everyone else? I would’ve given him everything if he asked, everything, but he never did. He just left me to die. And then, I thought, what the fuck is wrong with me for wishing this? I should’ve ran straight to the police as soon as I even thought something was wrong, when I saw the scratches and the bruises but I didn’t want to lose everything. But I didn’t. And it all came out and everything was so fucked up. So as soon as I was better, as soon as I could fucking stand I booked a flight and I haven’t been home since.”

“Remus… I’m so sorry, I-”

“Is that what you wanted to know, Sirius?” Remus wiped at his eyes again. “Were you hoping I was just as fucked up as you were and we could bond over it or something? Well some secrets are better kept quiet, and you took that fucking choice away from me, Sirius. You took the choice away and ripped it out from under me and expected me to thank you for not having to keep a secret? That’s disgusting.” Remus turned back to Sirius, shoulders tight and drawn, mouth pressed in a hard line. “That’s the worst betrayal of it, Sirius. I asked you to give me time because I apparently wanted something with you, and then you do this? How inconsiderate can you be?”

Sirius clenched his eyes shut as Remus finally released his arm. “I’m sorry, Moony, I re-”

“Move,” Remus muttered as he stood up and made to step past him.

Sirius drew his legs up, unable to stand for the moment with the tremors running through him. Remus stepped past and disappeared down the gangway towards the toilets. 

Sirius pressed a hand over his mouth to try and stop the sobs, the tears running freely down his face. Fuck, he had fucked this up so badly. All he’d wanted was that moment between them back again, he wanted that closeness back, the vulnerability of it all. Instead he’d betrayed Remus’ trust and dug at his most painful wounds. He shouldn’t even be the one crying, he wasn’t the one who was hurting. It was Remus who just had to recount his childhood trauma because of Sirius’ inability to let things be, but instead he was the one quietly sobbing.

Pulling his hood up and shoving his headphones onto his ears, Sirius tried to block it all out, the aching guilt like lead in his chest. Is there a Bowie album for sobbing hysterically? he thought savagely as he fumbled with the music app just to put something on so he couldn’t hear the blood rushing in his ears and Walburga screaming and the cawing of the crows.

Remus returned minutes later, stepping past Sirius with his legs still drawn onto his seat, and didn’t say another word.

Sirius pressed his forehead into his knees and tried not to think, tried not to feel anything at all when the world was pitching to the side and everything was spinning and blurring and he needed a cigarette, he needed a drink, he needed to scream and shout but all he could do was sit there trying to pretend none of it was real. Of course he had fucked up, God he was so stupid, he was so fucking stupid. All he’d wanted was - was… did it even matter? He’d made a mistake, he’d thrown himself into it and just done the first thing that came to his head without even thinking. Sirius gripped his legs tighter, dug his nails in, closed his eyes and tried to remember what Euphemia told him, to count his breaths, make sure they were even and deep when it felt like he could barely remember what oxygen was.

As soon as the plane touched down in London, Remus stood, stepped past Sirius and grabbed his bag. He strode off the plane without a backwards glance to the rest of them and Sirius just curled up tighter and wished he could just disappear. He felt a hand on his shoulder a moment later, uncomfortably tight. He lifted his head, limbs stiff from staying still for the past two hours, and saw James staring down at him. His expression flickered for a moment, taking in what Sirius knew had to be his puffy red eyes and ashen face.

“Padfoot… What the hell happened?”

 

“You did what!?”

“I know, Prongs, just leave it alright. I know I fucked up!” Sirius shouted, voice breaking through the fingers he had pressed to his mouth. It had taken James the entire journey back to the flat - a stilted, awkward affair for all - to finally eke it out of Sirius what he had done wrong.

James threw up his hands, uncharacteristically angry, but when the line was crossed, James’ fury was incomparable. “Yeah, yeah you did! You of all people should know the past wants to stay buried sometimes - Christ, you don’t think do you?”

“I know, Prongs! Shut up! I know I fucked up, I don’t need you to tear me a new one either!”

“Apparently I do, because you still went and did it! God, I don’t know who I’m more annoyed at, you or myself for not noticing you being a fucking idiot!” James might’ve been Sirius’ best friend, his brother for nearly fifteen years, but when he was angry, he was near apoplectic with rage. Friendship and respect were so important to him that of course he would be angry for Sirius to go and do something so despicable to their friend. 

“James, really, I-” Lily tried for the fifth time, stood awkwardly in the doorway a distance away from the pair.

“No, Lily.” James waved his hand dismissively. “I want to know why Sirius thinks it’s okay to dig into someone’s past and throw it in their face, practically blackmail him into something? I spent hours when we were kids stopping anything about your family even touching you! I kept you away from it all Sirius - I still fucking do - and you do the exact opposite to someone trying to escape his past?”

Sirius shook his head to try and dislodge the ringing in his ears. “I know, James, stop it! I didn’t know, I didn’t realise- I didn’t mean for it to be like that, I just wanted to help him.”

“That’s not how you help people Sirius. Christ, you don’t do that to friends. Or is that it? Jesus, I knew things were rocky between you but I thought you were adult enough to move past it!”

“Fucking leave it, Potter! I don’t need this from you! Just leave it, alright!?” Sirius clenched his fists and stood up, squaring up to James even though he was an inch or two shorter and significantly lighter.

“Hey, hey!” Lily was there instantly, slotting herself between the two men; there was no trace of fear or uncertainty in her green eyes as she separated them, sure in her motions. She had done it enough, in the rare occasions fights had turned physical. 

“Back off, Lily! If Potter wants to punch me in the mouth he can fucking do it!” Sirius hissed, eyes burning with unshed tears as he stared at James, who stared resolutely back.

“See if I can knock some fucking sense into you, Black?” James growled.

“I’m a Black now, am I!?” Sirius reached for James, but Lily stood steadfast between them and put her hand on Sirius’ chest.

“Padfoot. Stop.” Her voice was sharp and firm and Sirius felt at once like he’d disappointed everyone in his life who ever believed in him. “I should let James punch you, you bloody deserve it. But I’m not resorting to childishness.” 

Lily turned to James and put both hands on his shoulders, pushing him out of the threshold of Sirius’ room and into their own bedroom. For a moment James seemed to try and resist, still glaring at Sirius, like the time they’d argued after he took a prank a step too far in school, but then he turned to Lily and pressed a kiss into her hair, obviously taking comfort from her presence. The door shut and the silence emptied between them.

Sirius screamed into his hands, crumbing back to sit on the edge of the bed. In the taxi back he’d tried to send several messages to Remus but they had all come back undelivered. That didn’t stop him trying though, fumbling his phone open, tapping through the tears and writing another quick message on Instagram. 

Moony. I’m so sorry. I fucked up, please forgive me.

Notes:

EDIT 12/06/19: my wonderful, wonderful friend Meek drew some amazing art of The Plane Scene, and so I wanted to show you all here, along with a gorgeous scene of them cuddling together, and some bonus Padfoot and his bike. Please go check them out and tell Meek how much you love his fucking stunnningggggg art.

Chapter 23: Portraits of the Potters

Notes:

thank you to purplechimera for the wonderful beta on this chapter!

Also, after a couple of requests, I wanted to put together a playlist of what the gang would listen to in the shop. Every song here has been added by either James, Lily, Sirius or Remus - and I could probably tell you who added what song too really, I'm a bit too invested. Here it is!

Marauder Ink on Spotify

 

“Hello?”

The bus jolts around the bend, rickety and jarring. He wonders idly if it might fall apart at the next turn, if it might send him careening into the undergrowth, wide eyed and glassy, buzzing with the cotton wool at the back of his mouth. His eyes are puffy. The other person on the bus has moved away from him. He trips off the bus at a vaguely familiar location, somewhere in the back of his addled brain, raw with grief and anxiety and the burn of cocaine at the back of his throat. He walks, and walks and walks, high, drifting loose in his terror, until he sees the driveway. Fumbles with his phone, fingers ungainly, text typo-ridden - ‘hey, come outside?’ James tumbles down the driveway, eyes bright, hair a mess, garbling something he doesn’t understand, it doesn’t filter right through his brain. Then he starts crying, crying and crying and crying. Euphemia is there, an arm around him, a chunky knitted blanket around his shoulders. Fleamont is there, all business, already planning for him never to set foot in that damn house again. James is there, always, always there, incandescent with rage, the shoulder of his shirt wet with his tears.

“Mum?”

“Oh, hello Sirius dear…” Euphemia paused. “Are you alright?”

“No.” His voice broke over the single syllable. “Do- Do you have the number for that therapist?”

The noise on the other end of the phone sank away; Euphemia probably stopped what she was doing the moment Sirius admitted he wasn’t okay. He didn’t deserve her. “I think I must do somewhere sweetheart… I think Jamie has it though, from the last time you- well. Is he there? I’m sure he’ll have it.”

“He’s not talking to me.” He didn’t even know what time it was, whether James and Lily were still in the flat, whether he should’ve slept by now, whether he’d ever bring himself to get out of bed again. His voice broke over the words. “I fucked up, Effie. Made a really big mistake.”

“Oh love,” Euphemia said, her voice soft and soothing, cutting through the caws of the crows, Remus’ what the fuck, Sirius? and James’ you of all people should know- 

Sirius whimpered and shook his head, desperate for just a moment to think. He didn’t want to call Euphemia, to bring her into it all, let her into the raging garbage fire of his life when sometimes, it felt like he and James were still 16 in her eyes. He just didn’t know what else to do, where else to go. He had work the next day, had to try and sink back into his miracle-working when it felt like his fingers wouldn’t listen to him, when it felt like his skin was about to slough right off, like his brain would implode and everything would just cease.

“Do you want to come home for a while?” Euphemia asked, still so soft and lilting, genuine concern that Sirius did not deserve.

“No. James- James is mad at me. He’s your son, not me.”

“You know that’s not true, Sirius. You’re our son too, just as much. Don’t be silly.”

“I don’t- I don’t-” Sirius sighed and pushed a hand over his face. “I’m sorry to bother you, Effie.”

Just a moment of weakness, he thought as he pulled the phone away from his ear, ended the call and swiftly turned his phone off. Just a moment of weakness, to pull Euphemia into it when she had already done so much for him. He pulled the blanket back over his shoulders, sank down into the messy pile of his bedclothes, still fully dressed, still wearing the clothes from the plane, just barely subsisting in his body. 

A knock came at the door some time later, light enough that Sirius was willing to bet it was Lily. Right enough, the redhead slipped into his bedroom holding a tray, and crossed warily over to the bed.

“Padfoot… Here, you need to eat something.”

Sirius grunted, still beneath the blankets. “Not hungry, Lily. You don’t need to bother with me.” His voice sounded hollow, out of his body somehow, rattling through his sore throat. He’d screamed into his pillow so often he thought it was made entirely of his poisonous thoughts by now. He hadn’t slept, he thought, but he couldn’t be sure, were the crows there when he was conscious now?

“Don’t be stupid. I’m mad at you, I don’t have a death wish towards you.” Lily perched on the edge of the bed and gingerly touched the jut of his shoulder. Sirius jerked wildly, not used to touch, not used to the push of humanity when he felt this detached, when he felt like he was back at Grimmauld Place where every touch meant pain. 

“I’m sorry, Lily. I’m sorry. I’m just so fucking so-”

“Sirius. It’s not me you should be apologising to.” Lily was firm, like always, always no nonsense.

“I know! I-”

“Don’t raise your voice at me either, Padfoot.” Neutral, soft, no anger. He didn’t deserve her either.

Sirius threw an arm over his head, vaguely aware his limbs were all entirely tremors and the dull ache of stiffness. “Sorry… I- I’ve tried. I’ve tried, he’s blocked me on everything.”

Lily sighed softly and touched the slope of his shoulder again, firmer, almost reassuring, before she stood again. “It’s early evening just now. Try to sleep, so you’re functional tomorrow. I’m not letting you cancel clients.”

Sirius managed a nod, every single muscle and tendon feeling as if they might rattle to pieces like that damn bus in the middle of Berkshire so many years ago. He watched Lily from underneath a curtain of ink as she crossed back and slipped out of his room.

 

Sirius still hadn’t slept, feeling like a shell of a human, like his body wasn’t his own, when he stepped into the shop at 9:45 on Tuesday morning. The shop felt somewhere between returning home after a long absence, like the warmth of your own bed after the floor for so long, and some awful parody of what his life used to be, every single moment highlighted of where he had gone wrong. The normality of the shop taunted him, artwork still set out from a week ago, the collective loyalty cards of their breakfasts strewn across the desk, the diary opened at the right page, Lily’s neat handwriting detailing their days as if they could just carry on. 

James was already at the workbench, hunched over in a way that Sirius knew immediately meant his shoulder was giving him grief. He knew, but he had the distinct feeling that the source of that tension was his stupidity.

“Morning,” Sirius muttered, acutely aware he hadn’t seen either James or Lily when he had finally coaxed his body out of bed and into an icy shower that morning. He shrugged out of his jacket, limbs feeling ungainly, mismatched, and trailed over to the workbench.

“Morning,” James replied without lifting his gaze from the paper. 

Sirius nodded, a well of tears tightening in his throat, springing up to his eyes. Okay, okay, he had really fucked this up, hadn’t he? Usually, when James calmed down he was straight back to staring into the maw of Hell for Sirius, but he had crossed the line this time.

“Where’s Lily?” Sirius scrubbed a hand through his still-wet hair, aware the air between them was shaking as much as his fingers.

“Gone to pick Remus up.”

“Oh.” 

Silence. Yawning in a way that Sirius wasn’t used to. He and James were always companionable in their silences, long stretches of words they didn’t need to say, comfortable from a decade and a half of friendship, able to communicate with looks and gestures. But James was all closed off. Sirius couldn’t stand it.

“Prongs… I’m sorry.” How many times could he say the word before the shape of it was etched behind his teeth, before the muscle memory of it became habit, before he forgot every other word? He felt like language was escaping him in that moment, like all he could do was cry and apologise.

James sighed heavily and capped his pen before setting it down. “I know, Pads.” 

Sirius wanted to scream. He didn’t want people to know, he wanted to make it better, he wanted to fix everything. He wanted to unspool the timeline he had so tremendously fucked up and bargain with some higher power to take the whole thing back. All he’d wanted was the closeness of everything, that feeling of sharing a cigarette in the most wonderful liminal space. A sob crept from his lips before he’d realised it was even crawling up his throat. He turned his head away into his shoulder and clenched his eyes shut.

“I know, Pads.” James stood up and set a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I got mad… and I’m pretty sure you deserved it-” Sirius nodded as another sob leapt into the air- “but I forgive you. It’s not me you hurt…”

Sirius nodded again, shaky, as James circled his thumb over the jut of his collarbone, reassuringly tender. “I know… I know, I’m trying.”

James drew Sirius into a hug that he sank into immediately. It was nothing like the hug from that night after the Christmas party, James fuming, bubbling over as Sirius sobbed, but it was like water in the desert. He didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve any of this. “Mum called last night… she was worried about you, after you hung up on her? Talked my ear off making sure you were okay…”

“Yeah… I don’t- I’m sorry. I just didn’t… thought it would be okay.”

After a moment, James manoeuvred him into a seat at the workbench and pressed a pen into his hand. “Draw. Always helped you when we were younger. Go someplace else, out of your brain.”

Sirius adjusted his grip, pulled a scrap piece of paper from a pile nearby and bent his head to duck close. It worked for a while, blocked out everything else, the world narrowing away from his pain, away from the gnawing, all-consuming weight of guilt, to the pen in his hand and the miracle he was bringing to fruition in the ruins of his own life.

Then the door chimed and the world came flooding back in some horrific tsunami, taking his legs out from under him, the figures in the doorway like awful spectres, like the drowned men in the water. Sirius’ knuckles turned white on his pen as he glanced up to see Lily stood in the doorway, a stalwart protector despite her being a foot shorter than Remus, who stood behind her. He looks like I feel, Sirius thought before swiftly looking back to his paper. Remus’ eyes were ringed in the bruised purple of sleeplessness that Sirius so often saw in the mirror, his hair was a wild shock of curls and- and worst of all, there was a lurid mark on his throat, just above the collar of his jumper.

Sirius shuddered, stared with unseeing eyes at the doodle on the page before him. You can fuck your feelings away, he heard himself say in the smoking area of Heaven, Walburga behind his teeth. 

Remus looked on edge, somewhere between the cool detachment Sirius had seen so much at first and the sheer ice of his stare on the plane back to London. “Prongs,” he said coolly, with an air of finality that Sirius knew meant he wasn’t being spoken to. 

Standing, legs shaking, knees nearly buckling, Sirius rifled through a stack of artwork to the one intended for his first client of the day, before swiftly ducking into his room. He hoped distantly that the walls were vaguely soundproof when he felt hot tears at his lashes, but they didn’t come anyway. He was oddly numb as he moved about, setting up his workspace, ready to shrug off the shackles of his own psyche, the roaring of fuck, Sirius, fuck! You fucked up, you fucked up. It’s all your fault, it’s all you. She was right, she was right, she was right.

 

Wednesday. 

At least Sirius thought that was the day, going by his watch and the diary laid open on the desk. Over 24 hours had somehow passed between his apology to James and now, wondering whether he could get a caffeine IV to try and negate the need for sleep entirely. It felt like the world had passed him by on auto-pilot, he’d blinked and time had roared through him, but all at once dug its talons in, so slowly, as if it had been years since he remembered how to function. The only time he didn’t shake was when the tattoo gun was in his hand, the only time he could see straight was watching a miracle spring to life under his hands. Sirius was thankful at least that his work didn’t suffer, that he could still slip into that liminal space, go on his vision quests away from the knowledge that he had ruined everything. 

Of course, Remus hadn’t said a word to him. The bruise on his throat was still blooming, and definitely in the shape of someone else’s teeth. Sirius wanted to raze his entire existence to the ground, to scream and shout. How could you do that? I’m here, all I want is you. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry. Goddamn it Remus I’m so fucking sorry. I think I’ve ruined the only thing I want in my whole goddamn life, I’m so fucking sor-

“Sirius!” Lily burst into the room, dragging Remus by his arm behind her.

Sirius flinched wildly at the bang of the door, Lily’s voice - so sharp cutting through the fog - and Remus, whose presence felt like knives in his gut, like needles under his fingernails with how much he wanted to fall apart.

“Remus has just tried to give me his notice. Not going to happen. So you-” she jabbed a finger at Sirius, who flinched again- “are going to apologise. And this time, you-” she jabbed her finger then at Remus, who raised an eyebrow, although his eyes were feverishly bright, still ringed in purple- “are going to listen.” Lily glared at them both as she moved to the doorway. “Talk it out.”

She shut the door. It rang through the room in a way that made Sirius think of prison, of the bars rattling shut on a life sentence, on the world narrowing down to nothing at all but this room, this existence, facing his problems and not being able to run away.

Remus shifted by the doorway, shoved his hands into his pockets and peered at some of the artwork on the walls. He felt stony, implacable. Sirius longed for the molten-glass of unfocused pleasure, or even the soft honey-warmth of when they were friends, in the amber of Remus’ eyes.

“You’re- you want to leave?”

Remus stayed by the door, fastidiously avoiding Sirius’ gaze as he leant against the tattoo bed. “I think that’s the best idea, isn’t it?”

Although Sirius had been avoiding Remus, and everyone else for that matter, since they stepped off the plane, that didn’t mean he wanted Remus to leave. In fact, the idea of never seeing Remus again, of not coming into the shop in the morning and trading banter or ridiculing his breakfast ideas, sent a horrific shiver of ice down his spine. It felt like his insides were turning to stone and Sirius was suddenly prepared to do everything he could to stop Remus leaving the shop. Even outside of his own personal issues, Remus was fantastic for Marauder Ink; they were busy, wonderfully so, and according to Lily their revenue was only increasing. 

“Moony-” the nickname sounded too intimate, too terrifying- “Remus, I’m so sorry. I don’t- I don’t know what else to say.”

“Why did you do it?” Remus was still casting his gaze idly over the artwork on the walls as Sirius worried the fraying hem of his shirt. For a moment, a split-second, his eyes flickered over towards Sirius, and he looked almost vulnerable. Just a moment, as if his teeth were bared on the black of his lip ring, eyebrows pitching together, like that night in the back of the birthday party, or through the filtered afternoon light of his bedroom. 

Sirius couldn’t lie, couldn’t think clearly enough to formulate a lie, and felt the tears welling in his eyes again, wished he could swat them away like an annoying fly in the height of summer.

“I-” He sank onto the tattoo bed, staring vaguely at Remus’ shoulder because he couldn’t bring himself to look into those wells of amber when they were so cold. “I wanted- I wanted you back… I wanted us back.”

Remus’ eyebrow raised a fraction, but that was the only indication that he heard Sirius at all. His hands stayed buried in his pockets, he stayed by the door, an impenetrable force overwhelming the room and Sirius felt faint. 

“I’ve… never felt as right, as content, as I did when it was me and you… the night at the party, that day after Regulus. My brain, it - fuck - it always just talks and talks and I can’t ever get it to be quiet, but I can with you. Everything shuts off and nothing is important because everything feels okay. And… Christ, Remus, I’m so sorry. I just, I didn’t think right, I didn’t realise what I was doing. I just wanted to feel close to you, and I got it so wrong. So damn wrong. Don’t leave, please. Lily and James love having you here, you’re such a good part of the team.”

Sirius let out a breath, pressing his hands over his face. It felt like he had never said so many words before, in his whole life, that came right from the pit of his gut and not somewhere hollow and airy behind his throat. He pressed his fingers so hard into the sockets of his eyes that he saw stars, wanted to soar away into them and not sit here once again with Remus, ribs broken and spread open, heart for the taking. 

“Sirius…” Remus’ voice sounded broken, croaking like it did with cigarettes and sangria and sleep in Spain, in those moments between the fractures of their relationship.

“It’s fine. It’s okay. I get it, I crossed the line. Don’t leave though, it’s- you’re brilliant Remus, so brilliant at what you do. James and Lily love you, you’re their friend. I’ll just stay out of your way.” Sirius shrugged and pushed away from the bed to open the door back into the main room. 

Lily was there in an instant, a whirlwind of red hair and indignant green eyes, putting her body in the space between the door and frame. “That is not enough time to apologise! Talk!” She pushed Sirius back into the room by his shoulder and pushed the door shut in his face.

Sirius scoffed in surprise and stepped back, holding his hands up in surrender to the valkyrie that was Lily Evans-Potter when angry. He turned back to see Remus, still stood by the door, hands in his pockets. He looked wrecked too, tired, drawn, gaunt; Sirius wanted to scream.

“Sirius.” Remus cleared his throat. “You crossed a line, you so crossed a line.”

I know. Sirius kept quiet and crossed his arms over his stomach in some vague attempt at emotional armour. He leant against the doorway and stared at the tile just in front of his foot, trying to stay quiet, to listen, to open up. He wanted to sink to his knees and hold his hands out in penance. 

“You really betrayed my trust and I need you to know how fully you hurt me by going behind my back and digging into my past.” Remus let out a long breath, tightly controlled as if he were trying to stay calm, trying not to scream and shout and grab Sirius by the arm and dig his nails in. You’re such a disappointment, Walburga, half moon nails in his flesh, Orion, the smack of the fire poker.

I know. Sirius continued to stare at his feet, tears in his eyes again. 

“But you know that… Christ you look like you’re berating yourself enough without my input.”

“I am, I’m- I fucked up so bad, I know that, I know.”

“I feel like you pulled my insides out, Sirius.” Remus’ voice broke that time, and Sirius watched as he pushed a shaky hand over his face. “Like you aired all the skeletons in my closet, fucking broadcast it from the rooftops.”

I know. 

“No one else knows, I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t say a thing to anyone. James just knows that I went behind your back about something from your past… I didn’t say what it was, I swear. I- I wouldn’t do that.”

Remus raised an eyebrow, a flicker across his features like the crumbling of walls, the slow melt of centuries of wear on a cliff face. “No?”

“No. God, I know… I know what it’s like to be judged for your past, your ties… I know that well enough, I can’t believe it didn’t stop me, I didn’t think, I just didn’t think! I just- I wanted us to be… bared like that, to be together like that.” Sirius stumbled back a little to press his hips into the solidity of the wall beside Remus and tangled his hands through his hair to try and dampen the riot in his skull. 

“I wanted you to know that it’s okay to- to hurt with me because you practically put me back together after I argued with Reg and it felt… it felt fucking holy Remus. Like the thing I’d been missing my whole damn life and everything was so blessedly fucking quiet, and my stupid, stupid fucking brain it felt like the best option was to put you in the same position, so I could put you back together… I just- fuck, I fucked up. Fuck…” Sirius dragged his hands down over his face and suppressed the feeling bubbling under his skin to just scream. 

Remus’ fingers were warm and firm on Sirius’ wrist, his tanned skin against Sirius’ - fragile and ivory-blue - and Sirius jerked at the unexpected contact. It felt so different from the tight grip of his fingers on Sirius’ arm on the plane - teetering on the precipice of tender, gently pulling Sirius away from the sheer cliff of the crows cawing, of Walburga screaming. Sirius plummeted back to the ground, the earth-warm of Remus’ fingers curling up to meet him.

“I was so worried,” Remus all-but whispered, leaning on the wall next to him, their only point of contact his fingers around Sirius’ wrists as he stared up at the ceiling, “about giving you everything, so worried about losing myself in you. From that first bloody day I was so worried, because you’re such a whirlwind. I couldn’t give myself over to it; I’d only just figured out who I was after- after Greyback, that I didn’t think I could handle anyone else getting close. I didn’t want to let anyone in, especially you - you’re so fucking overwhelming.”

That’s funny, Sirius thought in a moment of dry lucidity, I don’t feel overwhelming, I feel like a pebble in the sea, like a seed caught on the wind, overwhelmed. He closed his eyes, trying to limit his senses to ground him back in the present, listening to Remus’ voice, feeling the warmth of his fingers on clammy skin, smelling the reassuringly sturdy scent of the shop. Even, deep breaths like Euphemia said, but oxygen felt so extraneous, so foreign. 

“But really, I mean, really, I’ve already done it, haven’t I? Gave myself to you that first night in Heaven, out in the smoking area. I just didn’t want to admit it. I had all these reasons, you’re my boss, we work together, we have different styles, different friends, you want a relationship, I didn’t, we snip at each other too much, we’re too different, we’re too much together, and then, then. You fucking hurt me, you ripped my heart out…” Remus kept staring at the ceiling, watching the ceiling fan slowly revolve, as if it might turn them out somewhere new. 

Oh, that just made it all worse, so so much worse. If he’d have just been patient, just not been so bloody stupid, then maybe he and Remus could’ve been something. If he’d given Remus time just like he wanted, taken it all slowly, then he could’ve had that blissful quietude back. But now-

“And yet, I’m fucking helpless around you. I am so angry at you, so fucking hurt, I feel like I’m fucking bleeding from it, still, and yet I’m still here, because it’s you. I should give Lily my notice, leave and never have to see you again, any of you. It hasn’t been long, I can cut ties so easily. And yet I’m still here, because it’s you, Sirius. You pull me in, pull me out into the ocean with you, the fucking quagmire of feelings and emotions, and I don’t want that but I do.”

The world fell away, free-falling, surroundings rushing past, the roar of the wind in Sirius’ ears as he plummeted, bewildered, terrified. A sliver of hope reared up in the shape of Remus’ fingers, circled around Sirius’ wrist, hot like a brand, tight like a shackle. 

“I don’t- I don’t get it… I shouldn’t even be here right now. I should… fuck, I don’t know how to explain it, I don’t… I don’t know what you’ve done to me, Sirius. I shouldn’t have even come in today, I should’ve called Lily and told her I quit then ignored everything. It’s like…” Remus raised a hand and rubbed it over his eyes for a moment. Sirius wanted to scream with the stark vulnerability across his face, the symbolic baring of his throat. He stayed leaning against the wall, so scared to move, to break the spell between them. “It’s like I can think clearly when I’m away from you. I can fucking… fucking block you on Instagram and ignore all your calls and remember how utterly humiliated I felt on that fucking plane ride. But when I’m here I just want you, and I hate that. I hate it, I can’t think with how much I want you.”

“Moons…” Barely a breath, oxygen felt unimportant, any moment of time and space that separated them felt unimportant. Sirius tilted his head against the wall so he could stare at the flickering scarification against Remus’ jaw, the profile of his fine features, the fevered bright of his eyes above those purple blooms.

“I knew it. As soon as I gave you that piercing, you know…” Remus sighed heavily, his eyes flickering shut. “There was this little voice in the back of my head that said he is going to ruin you, and you’re going to love it. And I didn’t get it, and I still don’t fucking get it, but here I am, ruined and- and, fuck…”

Remus sighed again as he slid his fingers from Sirius’ wrist, down over his palm to lace their fingers together. Sirius watched his eyelids flutter for a moment, before he lifted their joined hands and pressed a kiss to back of Sirius’ hand.

Chapter 24: A Stag and a Doe

Notes:

Thank you to Purplechimera for the amazing beta and all around support and love, I adore you, boo! We're two chapters away from the sequel!

Also, feel free to come say hi on tumblr!

 

Oh no, love, you’re not alone. No matter what or who you’ve been, no matter when or where you’ve seen. All the knives seem to lacerate your brain. I’ve had my share, I’ll help you with the pain. You’re not alone.

Sirius had to laugh, huff out some approximation of a laugh as Remus paused with his mouth pressed against the back of Sirius’ hand. It shot through the silence like that prank in Eton when James had smashed a window (or two, or three) in the West Wing with an errant tennis ball. It shattered over them in an instant and Sirius had to speak to break it, hoping his voice didn't waiver. “Who the hell put this on the playlist?”

Remus’ voice was rough and warm, puffing breath over Sirius’ shaking fingers. “It’s Bowie. You always put Bowie on.”

“I was probably feeling sad.”

“Are you still feeling sad?”

“I think so… Depends.” Sirius tilted his head and looked at Remus, who was still holding his hand, pressing it against the warmth of his mouth, the cool metal of his lip ring jutting into a tendon. 

“Mhmm…”

“I fucked up. I know I did… I can’t expect you to understand why, can I?”

“I don’t get it, no Pads. But then, I don’t get any of this.” Remus slid the warm coil of his tongue over Sirius’ knuckles. “I shouldn’t be here, but here I am. Ruined and loving it, you know…” 

Sirius hummed softly at the heat of Remus’ tongue - the contact after what felt like so long between them, so long between any meaningful contact, and now the most full-of-meaning contact he could imagine. A reminder that touch did not mean pain, as much as his brain was back in the confines of Grimmauld Place, sent there by his guilt, Remus was here, touching him with more tenderness than he deserved.

“I don’t want to let you go,” Sirius admitted, watching Remus’ pink tongue through the gaps of his fingers, still circling, like he was tasting his skin. The thought made it difficult to concentrate on anything at all. He slid down the wall a little, Remus sinking with him, until they were sat at the base of the it, legs out in front of them. Remus still held his hand. “But if you want me to, then I can, and I will.” It was a lie, he was sure. He couldn’t let Remus go. Not when every single atom of his body was screaming for the other man like they were dying without him.

Remus watched him, amber eyes glittering with an emotion Sirius couldn’t quite fathom. Sirius was so tired, so fucking tired, every emotion bottled in his body pouring out through the crack in his emotional armour, after so long, after so many walls built and rebuilt. He absently rubbed the heel of his palm over the dog at his sternum as if trying to mend the break. 

“I can’t, can I?” Remus turned their hands and pressed a kiss to Sirius’ palm. Sirius curled his fingers against the warmth of Remus’ cheek, the feeling of scar tissue under his fingertips. Remus’ fingers slid down to circle his wrist again. “If I could leave I would’ve done it weeks ago, would’ve done it as soon as I realised where this was going. But I can’t. Not you, Sirius.”

“Remus…” 

“I-” Remus sighed and tugged softly on Sirius’ wrist, pulling him closer. 

Sirius went hesitantly, not willing to set a foot wrong, to ruin it all again. If he were to be given a second chance, it would be all on Remus’ terms. Sirius shifted forwards onto his knees, nudging closer to Remus, all long legs laid out over the tiled floor, reclined but like a coiled spring. Remus’ fingers were warm, curled around Sirius’ clammy wrist.

“I’m done fighting this.” Remus kissed his palm again and the fingers from his wrist drifted up over the planes of his face. He touched them to Sirius’ temple, brushing through the strands of hair there. It felt like they were touching in a million places, fingers drifting over the open wounds of each other, reverent, holy, tender and terrified all at once, like the other person was an apparition and might just disappear at any moment. “I’m still angry with you, though.”

Sirius nodded and tilted his head towards Remus’ hand, lips parting against his palm. “I know. Give me one more chance… I’ll try to make it all right. I’ll try my hardest not to be a fucking idiot and to give you everything you deserve, Moony, I swear. I know I’m a fuck-up, I really do, and I try, I just… ruin things.”

“Padfoot-”

“I don’t know if I’m just made up wrong, my insides are wrong, and I try - and I want to get it right, for you Moony, I really do.” Sirius scrubbed a hand through his hair, feeling thoroughly undone.

Remus slid his hand around to the nape of his neck, grip firm, but his thumb was rubbing soothing little circles over Sirius’ throat. “Padfoot. Shut up, will you?” With that, he leant forward to capture Sirius’ lips in a kiss.

The whole world soared. Sirius surged forward, hands going to Remus’ shoulders, seeking the sturdiness of his body along with the heat of his mouth. Remus kissed like a starving man, his hand on Sirius’ neck, the other steadying him on the hip, and Sirius returned the kiss in kind, desperate and yearning and trying to show everything he couldn’t say. He crawled forward at Remus’ urgings, straddling one of his thighs, his blood heated and pounding as Remus stroked that tongue piercing into his mouth, slow but firm. 

Oh God, Sirius had missed this, missed the taste of Remus, tea and chocolate and tobacco, missed the press of his lip ring, the swipe of his tongue coiling with Sirius’, the passion of their kisses. It felt like every moment of their relationship had come to a head, every horrific thing that had passed between them, pouring out into their mouths. Remus knew Sirius, knew his flaws, knew his recklessness, knew his sheer idiocy at times, and he kissed Sirius like it was his only purpose. Sirius knew Remus, knew his anger, knew his scars, knew the pain of his past so intimately, knew the raw places of him, knew that it was he who had bared them open, dug at old wounds, and still, Remus let him in, let Sirius kiss him until he could fucking drown in it.

Sirius broke the kiss with a gasp, one hand tangled in auburn curls, and pressed his forehead against Remus’. He looked unbearably tender, that glassy haze in his eyes again. “I might fucking faint,” Sirius said through a half-laugh, wavering on his knees.

Remus pulled him onto his lap, winding an arm around his waist. “Christ, you’ve lost weight, Padfoot.”

“Don’t remember eating last,” Sirius ushered out on another humourless laugh, too busy kissing the corner of Remus’ mouth, tracing his lip ring with the tip of his tongue.

Remus stilled a little, pushing a stray strand of hair behind Sirius’ ear. “Sirius… I don’t-” He sighed, and Sirius frowned softly, still so unused to the idea of Remus being lost for words, of Remus not being his usual level of cool, eloquent indifference. “I can’t be the stability you need, you know…” He leant forward and pressed a kiss to Sirius’ mouth as if to try and soothe the sting of the words. “I want to do this, with you, the two of us. But… you know, I have my own fucking issues, and if you’re just looking for a support mechanism… there will be times I won’t be able to… I dunno, to give you that. I’ll need…” Remus trailed off into a shrug.

Sirius sat back on his heels, still astride Remus’ thigh like it was the only place in the world for him. “I know, Moons… I want that, I want you to lean on me… I want to help you, I want us to help each other, to figure out what the fuck is going on together… I don't mind being lost if it's with you…”

A smile shivered over Remus’ face, one arm still locked around Sirius’ waist, the other stroking through the hair gathered at the nape of his neck. He usually wore it thrown up out of the way for tattooing, but he was glad to have pulled it out of its tie a few moments before Remus had been dragged into the room by Lily, because Remus’ fingers in his hair was a singularly wonderful sensation that he would level cities for.

“I’d like that too, Pads,” Remus muttered, carding through Sirius’ hair, his eyes flickering to the ends of it filtering through his fingers like silk. Sirius’ eyes shuttered at the feeling of it, Remus’ fingers so comforting and soothing. “Give me… give me time though. Please, this time, please give me time. I haven’t… done any of this in years.”

Sirius nodded, hands skittering up over Remus’ arms, emboldened to touch him now with their kiss and Remus’ fingers scratching gently against his scalp. “Me neither, me neither…” Then, against the flicker of happiness alighting his insides, guilt came crashing back to him, a weight in his chest, tight, choking, consuming. “Moony… I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry-”

Remus shook his head, all auburn curls and frowns and his fingers still in Sirius’ hair, holding, holding, holding. “Padfoot…”

“I’m sorry. I- I fucked up so bad, I’m all wrong, I’m made up all wrong, aren’t I? Incapable of doing the right thing, it’s in my blood.”

“No you’re not, you’re not made up all wrong. I said it before, didn’t I?” Remus slid his hand to cup Sirius’ neck, like he had done after the argument with Regulus, bared open in the afternoon light; it felt like so long ago. “You’re fine how you are, Padfoot. You just… you just get ahead of yourself.”

Sirius bit his lip, paused with his fingers on Remus’ arms, trying not to dig in, not leaving bloody crescent moons on his Moony but he wanted to hold on, hold on and never let go and sink into him. How was Remus still here? After all Sirius had done? But Remus had said so, hadn’t he? He and Sirius were intertwined. Laced together, shackled together, roots wound together, unable to escape even if they wanted to.

“I… didn’t help, either, did I?” Remus’ fingers resumed their idle wanderings through Sirius’ hair. “I was trying to ignore it… trying to pretend I didn’t want you because I don’t do this, I don’t do any of this since him, and it scared me.”

“I'm sorry-”

“No, stop apologising Pads. Stop it and just listen, will you? I accept your apology, okay?”

“Alright,” Sirius said on an exhale, stroking a hand over Remus’ shoulder, the reassuring planes of it, the warmth of him.

“I'm still mad, I still… still hate what you did so damn much, it still hurts, and I can’t forgive you straight away, but I accept your apology, because I - fucking inexplicably - still want you. Okay?”

“Okay… fuck, Moony… okay. I'm here, I'm here. Whatever you want, whatever you need, I want to be here for you.” Sirius felt near-delirious, the rush of emotions, the lack of sleep, the lack of food, the headspace of the past few days shucking away like taking off a cast, the removal of it just as painful as its presence at all.

Remus smiled softly and brought Sirius in for another kiss, so tender, their lips barely brushing, more breath and unsaid words than kisses. Sirius sank into it, sliding close, desperate for the comfort of Remus, how open he felt now after so long of being closed off. Sirius slid his tongue over Remus’ bottom lip, delighting at the soft noise that issued from between them. Remus’ fingers tightened on his hip, arm wound around his waist, almost biting but so grounding, so safe and sturdy. Sirius moaned back softly, pressing his torso against Remus’, the long lines of him, shuddering breaths between them. 

This was what he wanted all along, the two of them bared and tangled together, blurring all the lines of each other, so Sirius didn't know where he stopped and Remus started. He just wished it hadn't happened like it did, he hadn't torn down Remus’ trust and all the walls and respect and wonderful things between them. Sirius wondered if he'd ever be able to stop saying sorry, to stop wanting to unspool everything between them, but here he was, given a second chance by Remus, astride his thigh, Remus’ hand in his hair. 

How you moved is all it takes, to sing a song of when I loved the prettiest star.

Remus broke the kiss with a peal of disbelieving laughter, head dropping back against the wall, fingers still in Sirius’ hair, hips tilted up towards him slightly in that telltale flicker of desire.

“What?” Sirius’ gaze sprang all over his face, worried that he’d done something wrong, heart in his throat. Why was Remus laughing?

Remus shook his head and indicated the room around them with his other hand. “This playlist, I swear Padfoot, what the fuck do you have queued? I can’t kiss you with this bloody song playing.” He was laughing though, still chuckling, and Sirius smiled, the worry draining away over the guitar riff of Prettiest Star filtering through the shop.

“Why not?” Sirius, chuckling himself at the brightness of Remus’ laughter, leant forward to press a kiss to the corner of Remus’ grinning mouth, his heart blooming with affection. 

“Because that’s you, you prick. Prettiest Star? I can’t deal with this many cliches. God that’s ridiculous.” Remus looked flushed, embarrassed at the words running from his mouth now that they had finally admitted everything to each other.

Sirius laughed then too, a proper barking laugh that rang through the room, washing away the last of the silence between them. Remus’ hand was still in his hair, torsos pressed together, their legs still tangled as one, and it was perfect. Unwilling to break their embrace, but knowing he had to, Sirius crawled off of Remus’ lap and over to the door, pulling it open to call into the main room.

“Lily! Turn this over please!” His voice sounded alien for a moment, not a cracking monotone or the strange hollow noises he’d heard coming out of his mouth for the past few days. He’d almost forgotten what his normal voice sounded like, he had been okay for so long, the caws of the crows had been gone for so long. But they were back on the periphery again, not quite cawing, banished by the warm swipe of Remus’ tongue piercing.

Lily, who was sat at the desk, looked up from her paperwork. Sirius saw the emotions travel across her face - surprise, worry, then, noticing the smile on Sirius’ face, a wonderful combination of relief and happiness. “Turn over Bowie? Who are you and what have you done with Sirius Black?”

Remus shifted next to him and peered around the corner. Sirius glanced sideways at him, the flush at the tops of his cheeks, the pink of his lips that Sirius knew came from their kisses, and his insides roared with the strength of his affection. “It’s my fault. This song is too soppy for me.”

“Oh, I see.” Lily grinned triumphantly, then, as she leant over towards the laptop to change the song- “You two are fucking idiots, you know that right?”

“I know,” they both said in unison, before promptly descending into laughter again. Lily rolled her eyes but she was exuding sheer happiness through every pore of her being. Sirius wondered anew how he had gotten so lucky with his friends.

“As much as I would love to turn this over and let you two go back to fucking on the tattoo bed-” Sirius looked at Remus, who was smiling wryly, and couldn’t help but grin back. That sounded good to him to be honest- “I have to point out that would probably go against our health and safety regulations, and the fact that you both have clients in the next 15 minutes…”

“I suppose,” Sirius grumbled, still smiling.

“James has gone to get lunch, he’ll be back any moment. You need to eat something Pads,” Lily said as she continued with her paperwork, absently shucking a wave of red hair from her shoulder.

“She’s right.” Remus moved Sirius’ legs from his lap and stood from where he was previously sprawled against the wall, brushing his jeans off. He peered down at Sirius as if worried he might keel over, and it seemed like a valid concern with how fragile he felt.

Sirius looked up at him with ill-disguised adoration. God, not only was he stunning, but he was giving Sirius a second chance too? Sirius stood up, wavering with the lightheadedness that followed, and Remus caught his bicep to keep him upright. Okay, he hadn’t eaten for a good while now, and the emotions of the day had finally caught up with him. 

“Christ,” Sirius said, covering for the well of tears that threatened to burst from his throat. “I’ve got all three of you fussing over me now, haven’t I?”

“If by fussing you mean making sure you eat and drink, then yes.” Lily pinned him with a look and set her pen down. “I’ll make tea, shall I?”

Remus smiled and let go of Sirius’ arm, pausing a moment to make sure he would stay on his feet. Sirius smiled at him, muzzy and full of warmth, and Remus smiled back, so beautiful, lip ring catching the light. 

Sirius caught his arm on their way out of his room. “Hey,” he murmured as he drew Remus close. “Thank you.”

Remus smiled, peering at him with those amber eyes that seemed to shoot right through him, bared his soul now that they were on the same page, now that the soaring in his heart had a name and Remus could look at him without derision or scorn. Oh it was so beautiful. Remus nodded and ducked down to kiss Sirius on the cheek. “Don’t make me regret it, Pads.”

Just then, the doorbell rang behind them, and Sirius turned to see James in the doorway, a bag from the bakery across the road under one arm. His eyebrows shot up in surprise, gaze moving over Sirius - stood straight, looking whole again, smiling - his hand on Remus’ arm, and Remus - bright, smiling, tension diffused from his shoulders - before he looked back at Sirius again. 

“Thank fuck for that,” he said, dumping the bag on the arm of the sofa on his way to pull Sirius into a bruisingly familiar brotherly hug. Sirius could feel all the worry rushing out of him in the sigh that fled his lips as he hugged back. “Thank fuck.”

“Prongs, mate, I need to breathe,” Sirius choked out, arms tight around James because he had always, always been there.

James stepped back, stared at Sirius with a piercing look of you sure you’re alright? and when Sirius nodded back, feeling the most alright he’d felt in weeks, James turned to hold a hand out to Remus.

Remus took it, one eyebrow quirked, and Sirius knew from experience that James’ handshakes were as bruising as his hugs. Remus didn’t seem to care and held James’ gaze, as if he knew a threshold had been crossed now and they were all in unknown territory. 

“Neither of you better fuck this up, okay?” James was stern, shoulders set, jaw squared, looking between them both. James flickered from the 12 year old berk he set pranks with and the man at 25 who would face down armies for him, knowing Sirius would do the same if it were needed. They might butt heads occasionally, but James was still his brother.

Sirius was reminded of Euphemia and Fleamont, at the gates of Eton the first term Sirius had lived with them, Walburga at the other end of the courtyard, her hand on Regulus’ shoulder. Sirius had never felt more safe than that moment, knowing James, Euphemia and Fleamont were next to him. He remembered the glare he’d given Lily years later when she and James had gone on their first date. James had met her at the school gates in order to walk down to the cinema together, and Sirius had seen them off with a look and a word to Lily of - “He’s my brother, and if you hurt him I will hurt you, girl or not.” Lily, the wonderful girl she was even at that age, had nodded solemnly, despite Sirius’ teenage tantrum, and assured him she would do no such thing.

Remus looked like Lily in that moment, solemn in the face of their brotherhood. He looked at Sirius and smiled, smiled like the sun, the moon, the stars and a thousand beautiful things.

“We won’t,” they both said together, and Remus reached out for Sirius’ hand, lacing their fingers.

Lily came out of the office with a tray of tea and set it on the desk. She took one look at the three men and smiled. “Good God, Potter, couldn’t you save the he’s my brother talk until they’d at least told us they’d made up?”

James grinned, brimming with happiness now the atmosphere in the shop was lighter than a ten-tonne weight again. “Not a chance.”

 

Chapter 25: Moon Phases

Notes:

It's a long one, but we deserve it.

 

The crows are cawing. Walburga is screaming. Regulus looks as if his entire world has just deflated in the face of such disappointment. The soft, threatening ‘schnk’ of the fire poker being drawn from its stand sends Orion smiling nastily. 

Sirius jerked awake, at once sweaty and pale, and swung his legs from the bed in the same breath, trying to get some distance from the childhood terrors that clung to his psyche. He padded into the kitchen without really thinking, on auto-pilot, and was stood at the sink drinking absently from a glass of water when he finally came back to his body. 

It wasn’t that he was expecting not to have nightmares anymore - because Remus admitting they could give it a proper go between them wouldn’t fix his issues, wouldn’t banish his PTSD and erase the haunting memories of childhood - but he would’ve at least hoped for a night of reprieve. Sirius sighed into his hand and scrubbed it through his hair a moment later. 

Perhaps it was better that Remus hadn’t agreed to come back to the flat with him that night. At first, he had been frustrated by the decision, but Remus had said he needed time, and Christ, was Sirius going to give him time now. He had learned his lesson. Of course he was still upset Remus didn’t want to tumble into bed with him and make up for the lost time of arguments and barbed looks and everything that had come between them since that first night at Heaven months ago. And of course, he wanted to share everything with Remus, but no one knew about his nightmares except James and Lily, not to the same extent. James was the only one who stirred to the sound of his screaming years ago and roused him awake when the crows would not let go. The phrase sat strange on his tongue, but he was ashamed, and did not want Remus to see him like that.

So perhaps it was for the better that they took their time, resisted the magnetic pull between them to try and let things settle. Sirius was always in a whirlwind, and having Remus moored to him felt as if it might either ground him entirely or give the wind all the extra weight it needed to pull him right into the fray. With Remus, Sirius was forever teetering on a precipice, but he couldn’t bring himself to step back from the edge.

James padded out of his bedroom, bleary-eyed, glasses askew, and roused Sirius from his staring out the window. He didn’t need words, just stood with his brother until Sirius nodded and dropped his head back. 

“Thank you, Prongs.” 

James peered at him for a moment before embracing him tightly. 

Sirius watched James go back into his own bedroom and let out a sigh. His body had been so used to the adrenaline rush of fear and guilt and hatred for the past few days that it felt like withdrawal, a weird comedown hangover of emotions, wary of what might come next. The sun wasn’t yet peeking over the horizon, so Sirius drained the rest of his water glass, fingers still shaking as if an odd afterthought, and padded back to bed. He still felt vaguely floating, his brain not quite fully seated back into his body, as if it was still in the dream he left earlier. He picked his phone up to try and bring his mind back to the forefront, and tapped onto the messages he exchanged with Remus a few hours earlier, both lying awake on opposite sides of town.

Tried to get Gid and Fab to listen to Blackstar earlier. They didn’t like it.

What? That’s absurd, pass them the phone Moons, I’ll explain it all to them.

Hahaha, calm down Number One Super Fan. I’ve gone to bed now. 

You have? ;)

Piss off Pads. Get some sleep yourself.

Alright, alright. See you tomorrow Moony x

See you tomorrow Padfoot x

Sirius definitely did not smile like a lovesick teenager as he thumbed through the messages before setting his phone back down. He still couldn’t quite believe Remus hadn’t told him to fuck off and just handed his notice in. He was pretty sure somewhere in the back of his mind that Remus would take it all back and disappear, leaving him bereft, and that he would be well within his right to do so. 

But Remus was right, wasn’t he? That they were wound together, and no matter how hard one of them pulled in one direction, the other would draw them back in eventually, against both of their wills. The fact remained that Sirius had never felt as content as he did in Remus’ arms, with the firm press of his kisses. Away from it, he could try and think straight, but as soon as they were around each other, Sirius felt as if he would stop at nothing to have him and see him smile. 

Sirius tried to hold onto that feeling, the firmness of Remus’ grip to keep him in the present as he drifted back to sleep.

 

“I don’t know about you,” Lily started as she brought in breakfast bacon sandwiches on Thursday. “But I don’t think I can stomach Heaven this weekend. I think my liver is still processing Primavera.”

“Agreed,” James said before tearing into his sandwich with a fervour only possible from early-morning James F Potter. Sirius retrieved his own sandwich with one hand, and passed Remus his with the other.

“Thanks Pads.” Remus smiled softly, their thighs pressed together in close quarters onto the sofa. Sirius felt as if he were in some strange liminal space, unsure of how to act around Remus yet. Some parts of it felt easy, the brush of fingers in passing moving from one client to another or doling out tea, but there were moments of quiet when neither of them seemed able to breach whatever bubble they had surrounded themselves in. But here, his thigh pressed against Remus’, it all felt okay. 

Sirius had always been a particularly touchy-feely person, free in his affections when in a relationship or with his friends, but he was so concerned and preoccupied about overstepping boundaries with Remus that every touch passed between them was accompanied with a look that whispered is this okay?

“So I was thinking, why don’t we just have a takeaway at our place? Marlene and Dorcas can come over, Frank and Alice if they’re not busy winning medals, maybe Peter and Mary, we haven’t seen them for a while.” Lily sipped her tea as she flicked through the diary for the day, ever the master of multi-tasking. “If that’s alright with you, Padfoot?”

“I mean-” Sirius swallowed around his mouthful of bacon- “you’ve already talked it over with Prongs, I imagine?”

“Duh.” James paused to breathe before diving back in to his breakfast.

“Well then, it’s fine with me. I agree, we can stay in and chill.” Sirius’ heart fluttered into his throat as he looked at Remus, still surprised by the lack of space between them, still expecting a chasm when instead he could see right into those pools of honeyed amber and lose himself. “What do you think, Moons?”

“Sure. Sounds good.” Remus smiled, open and beautiful and nothing like the haze of sangria in Barcelona or the pull of vodka at Heaven or those moments lost between them like driftwood. He shifted and laid his hand on Sirius’ knee. The touch rioted through him like a forest fire, like the catch of dry wood after a searing summer and just the mere mention of sparks. Sirius set his hand over the top of Remus’ and watched in wonder as the other man laced their fingers together. 

 

The rest of the week flew by. James informed Sirius on Friday morning that he had set up another therapy appointment the following week for him, because no matter how many times Sirius smiled and nodded, his little excursion back to his teen years, fuelled by gin and guilt and all things that might seem fixed on the surface now, was not going to pass him or Euphemia by. In fact, Sirius was pretty sure Euphemia had pestered James until he had done it, and Sirius was just receiving second-hand nagging from his adoptive mother. 

Saturday evening came with a sigh of relief as they closed the shop. Sirius’ leather jacket was thrown over his shoulder in the early June heat, knowing he would have to put it on eventually, but prolonging the moment as long as he could in the oppressive air. Usually, they would part with a word to reunite at the Three Sweeps in a few hours, but instead, Remus followed them around to the car park to come back to their flat as planned. 

Sirius had been worrying about this moment all day, biting back his tongue for fear of bringing up something painful, and he was so aware of the moment Remus realised their mode of transport back to the flat. Letting out a long breath, trying desperately to think of something to save it all from falling apart with, Sirius shifted to dig his motorbike keys from his pocket.

“Hey, Lils. Why don’t you and I take the quick route back home to finish tidying-” he paused to unlock his helmet from his bike and hold out it to her- “and Prongs and Moony can go get the food?”

“Sure.” Lily shrugged. “Good idea, Pads.”

Remus shot him a grateful look and reached over to squeeze his hand, just a second of vulnerability over his features that he usually kept locked up so tight. He stepped closer whilst Lily handed off her handbag to James with a list of everyone’s food choices. “Thank you,” Remus breathed, leaning close to kiss Sirius’ cheek. 

“You’re welcome, Moons. Is that alright?” 

“Yeah.” 

Sirius lingered, hand on Remus’ waist, wanting desperately to kiss him but so unwilling to overstep their tenuous boundaries, to prod at the edges of their relationship too much lest it fall apart. Remus lingered too, and after a second turned to capture Sirius’ lips in a kiss. Chaste as it was, the press of Remus’ lips still lit a fire in Sirius’ insides and calmed the roaring of his brain. He pulled away after a moment when Lily cleared her throat.

“Shall we? I always forget we keep a spare helmet in our car, don't you?” Lily smiled as she pulled on the helmet and zipped her jacket up. Sirius helped her onto the bike and watched Remus, waiting until he was inside the car before he kicked the engine to life, and yet Remus still flinched under the sound of it. Lily, none the wiser, wrapped her arms around Sirius’ waist and they set off towards the flat.

Sirius was making the usual Saturday night jug of margaritas, although considerably weaker than his usual ratio, when Marlene and Dorcas arrived. Lily met them at the door, and soon enough they were sat on the sofa with a glass of wine each, Dorcas’ feet in her girlfriend’s lap. 

“You and Moony made up?” was the first thing out of Marlene’s mouth as Sirius sat next to her.

“Yeah.” Sirius could feel his cheeks turning vermillion, uncharacteristic in his blush and fighting tooth and nail against it. “I still think he should kick me to the kerb… but I guess not?”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re alright, you know,” Marlene said, cuffing Sirius around the shoulder and pulling her into him. 

“I’m just trying not to ruin this.”

Lily grinned and poured herself a glass of margarita. “You should see them both, honestly.” She was smiling over the rim of her glass. “They’re like lovesick puppies, making eyes at each other, holding pinky fingers when they think we aren’t looking.”

“Oi!” Sirius fired a coaster at the redhead, who was stifling laughter against his sudden resemblance to a beetroot. “Like you and Prongs were any better when you first got together!”

“Maybe not, but we were 17 Pads! Not 24!”

Dorcas laughed and nudged into Sirius’ arm with her foot. “You two have been making eyes at each other for weeks, darling. Everyone could tell but the two of you, apparently.”

Just then, James’ voice came from the doorway. “Friends, I come baring Mexican food and a Moony.”

“Hello you two, how are you?” Remus, always with the ability to just carry on in the face of the people he hadn’t seen since his world fell apart, leant over to kiss Marlene and Dorcas both on the cheek. 

“And we met Frank and Alice in the car park, they’re just finding a parking space and they’ll be right up,” James said, setting down the bag full of takeaway food and leaning over to kiss Lily on the forehead.

For a while, there was a whirlwind of activity, plates passed around, burritos and tacos, bowls of nachos bigger than Sirius’ head, and once it all settled Sirius found himself sat next to Remus on the large armchair. Their legs were tangled together, bare feet pressed together, hips side by side. He was pretty sure Lily had orchestrated the seating arrangement, but he couldn’t find himself to argue that point now when Remus set his arm around Sirius’ shoulders. 

Sirius let his head drop back against Remus’ bicep, blooming with affection and adoration and utter contentment as Lily, bolstered by Dorcas, Alice, Frank and Sirius, put Love Island on the TV for them all to both ogle and rip apart in comfortable companionship. Remus tilted his head, turned and pressed a kiss into his temple with a soft hum of contentment.

Fingers idly tracing the silver-white lines of scarification on Remus’ arms - completely skipping over those pink ones he didn’t even see anymore - Sirius shifted and bit his lip. “Hey… Stay tonight, we don’t need to do anything, just stay… don’t leave yet.” His voice came as barely a whisper, only meant for Remus whilst everyone else was chattering and still eating nachos and drinking margaritas. 

Remus watched Sirius’ fingers on his arm. “Yeah… alright.”

Sirius smiled, despite the terror sparking in his stomach. He hadn’t shared a bed with anyone in years, and falling asleep together, the vulnerability of sleep and dreams and nightmares seemed all together more intimate than sex. But he remembered the quiet of his mind and body when he had laid there with Remus last, cigarettes in the afternoon sun, and then the prospect didn’t seem so frightening. 

“Hey,” Sirius whispered again, stretching up slightly from his position against Remus’ arm as if to capture his lips. “Can I have a kiss?”

Remus rolled his eyes but smiled. “You don’t need to ask.”

“Don’t I?” Sirius’ gaze flickered over Remus’ face, clinging to that smile so close to him. “I’m not sure anymore.”

“Pads…” Remus’ face turned tender as his fingers tangled into the hair at the nape of Sirius’ neck. “You don’t need to ask to kiss me. I give you permanent permission, okay?” He brought their mouths together for a kiss that shuddered through Sirius harder than the extra-hot beef burrito he’d just inhaled or the tang of the margaritas. Sirius stretched up, hand going to Remus’ jaw to hold him close and kiss back with every bit of adoration he could muster.

Remus smiled wider as he pulled back just enough to mutter between kisses. “And besides, I fell for you as a whirlwind, Padfoot-” another kiss- “all wild-” kiss- “and overwhelming-” kiss- “and brash-” kiss- “and telling me to come get a taste.” Remus grinned into the kiss and sank his teeth softly into Sirius’ bottom lip. Sirius forgot about the room full of people as his limbs turned to molten honey and his tongue licked over the seam of Remus’ mouth. To his utter dismay, Remus pulled back a fraction more. “So take what you want.”

“Ohh… fucking hell Remus,” Sirius murmured against his lips, thumb stroking over the scarification at his jawline. “Give me warning before you say something like that, will you?”

“No.” Remus grinned. “I like that scandalised look on your face too much. Didn’t think it was possible to get Sirius Black to blush.”

Sirius laughed and melted all at once, leaning up to press their lips together again in a push of heated passion. Remus’ grin stoked the fire in his belly like nothing else, the light of his tongue piercing catching just behind his teeth, and oh it was so sweet when it stroked across his bottom lip. 

It was wonderful until a cushion hit them square in the face. Sirius sputtered and drew back to see his six friends staring at him.

“Get a room will you?” Marlene grinned over the top of her wine glass.

“I’ve seen enough tonsil tennis to last me a lifetime.”

“I need to get like… four new cavities filled.”

“Oh shut it!” Sirius fired the cushion back at James, who had clearly thrown it with his infuriatingly accurate rugby aim and was now doubled with laughter. 

Remus was chuckling next to him, his hand still in Sirius’ hair in a mark of affection Sirius wanted to bottle. “You lot are a bunch of voyeurs.”

“You’re the ones putting on a show!” Lily shot back, grinning ear to ear and scooping a huge glob of guacamole onto a nacho.

“Fine then!” Sirius stood and brushed his jeans off and tilted his chin up. “I hope you all have good hearing because that’s all you’re getting from now on!” He held his hand out to Remus with a dramatic flourish. “Moonbeam, shall we?” But beneath the haughty exterior, the grin playing across his lips, there was a flicker of uncertainty, a flicker of please don’t say no, please don’t reject me, please. 

Remus, because he knew Sirius, because he had seen the pieces of him and picked them back up, learned how to put them together, saw that flicker and just smiled, taking his hand with an equally dramatic flourish. “Yes we shall, Padfoot-” he turned to the others- “I’m afraid you’ll have to find another way to get your own rocks off.”

With an awfully smug grin, Sirius pulled Remus across the room and into his bedroom, ignoring the rioting jeers of their friends, another cushion hitting the door courtesy of James just as Sirius shut it. Remus chuckled as his hand landed on Sirius’ back, heated through his shirt like it did that night at the birthday party. Sirius let out a long breath and turned to Remus, thinking of that night, thinking of all their nights, all their moments. As if he could do anything else, Sirius, all those memories of moments at the seam of his lips, turned to kiss Remus hard.

Remus sank into him, hands going to his hair to hold him close. Remus was wonderfully molten, his body hot against Sirius as their torsos pressed closed. Remus moaned sharply, the taste of their kisses headier than anything else between them, and stroked his hands down Sirius’ back, so tender and caring. Fuelled by the lack of space between them, not just physically but mentally, Sirius grasped at the buttons of Remus’ shirt to pull them open.

“Fuck, Moony,” Sirius kneaded out, nudging a knee between his thighs. Remus responded and slotted their bodies together, pressing Sirius back into the door. Sirius, feeling emboldened by the way Remus was hungry against him, moaning into the kiss with a fervour he remembered from the birthday party, reached down to over the expanse of newly exposed skin to palm his cock through blue denim. 

Remus moaned sharply, almost a growl at the back of his throat, tongue delving into his mouth, and pulled his own shirt from his shoulders, dropping it somewhere to be forgotten. Sirius pushed him back towards the bed, breaking their embrace only to seize his own shirt between his shoulder blades to pull it off in one fell swoop. Remus pulled him back in eagerly, hands ranging over his shoulders, down his back to his arse to fit their bodies together again. “I missed this, I missed- Ah, fuck, Pads…”

“Me too, me too. God, so much Moony, so fucking much.” 

Sirius stroked down over Remus’ stomach, feeling it quiver under his fingers, the scarification at his diaphragm stuttering beautiful, and pulled his jeans open. Fabric pushed aside for a moment, he wrapped his fingers around Remus’ cock, groaning into their kiss as his thumb found the warm slip of metal beneath the head. Remus moaned sharply as Sirius toyed with the piercing, biting Sirius’ bottom lip in recompense. Sirius grinned into the kiss and shoved Remus’ jeans and underwear off his hips, helping him kick them away before pushing at his shoulders until he sat on the edge of the bed. 

Sirius straightened back up, insides coiling in fierce pride and possessiveness at the way Remus chased his mouth for another kiss, and smirked at him. He took a long shuddering breath as he undid his belt, hips canted forwards, stomach clenching, slow in his motions, watching Remus’ amber eyes watching him. Sirius drunk in the sight of Remus in his bedroom, hair mussed after a long day, amber eyes bright in the lingering sunset outside, the wan lamplight through the open blinds. He looked so stunning that Sirius felt breathless, all of his insides pulled taut by him and everything that was between them.

Remus watched, leaning back on his hands, own hips canted forwards, cock jutting up against his stomach, obscene and alluring. Sirius would’ve dropped to his knees to worship the sight of him if he weren’t more preoccupied by getting his own cock out of its denim prison. 

“Christ Pads,” Remus hissed as Sirius pushed his jeans and underwear from his hips and kicked them away, torn between wanting to draw out this moment and hurrying to the bliss that would come with their completion. “Look at you.”

God, so much had come between them, so much that threaded them together like the seams of some hastily repaired garment, two men trying to figure out if real affection was possible at all in a world designed to pull them apart and test the mettle of their stitching. Unwilling to let it, wanting to cling to Remus as hard as he could, Sirius pitched forward and climbed into Remus’ lap like it was the only place for him, long, lightly tanned limbs wrapping around him, curated like a gallery wall, Remus the frames of all his prints.

Overcome with the solidity of it all, the firmness of Remus under him, the resonant here-ness of him, hot presses of his mouth, tight fingers on his back, hard length against his thigh, Sirius moaned into their kiss, tongue coiling with Remus’. Sirius urged him backwards, eager for their tangle of limbs, and settled between his legs. Remus moaned in response, tilting his head to deepen their kiss and send Sirius spiralling into the place where he couldn’t think straight with desire. 

Sirius reached down to wrap his fingers around Remus’ cock, delighting at the way Remus groaned into the kiss, scraped his teeth over the swell of Sirius’ kiss-bitten lips and shifted his hips up. One of his hands, so warm, was kneading the back of Sirius’ thigh, the other mirroring his own to stroke over his cock in long, firm motions.

“Fuck-” Sirius muttered into the kiss, sliding his pre-come slick fingers down between Remus’ cheeks.

He felt Remus still a moment before he was on his back, Remus looming above him, his hand somehow trapped between them. The breath rushed out of Sirius in a whirl of worry. Of course, they were both bloody tops and how had that ever worked out in the past? Desperate to not let this go, to save the moment somehow, save them both, Sirius leant up and kissed Remus hard, tongue pushing between his teeth. Because he was the one that fucked this all up in the first place, Sirius had to fix it. Remus relaxed against him after a long moment of his body like stone, and Sirius reached up to card through his hair. The fear and worry lingered at the edges of his mind despite the feeling of Remus against him, their naked limbs entwined. Perhaps they should’ve talked about this first, before falling into bed together. Maybe they should have had some kind of adult discussion about expectations and preferences and a way to make this work when they both wanted dominance and- Christ, Remus’ hand was on his cock again. 

Sirius tipped his head back to pant for breath, and Remus moaned softly in appreciation for the bared flesh of his throat before scraping his teeth over the tender skin there. Sirius held onto him for dear life, one hand on his shoulder, the other wound tight in his auburn curls. Remus’ hips canted forward as Sirius tugged on his lip ring, and their cocks slid together with slick friction that made them both cry out.

“Shit, Pads- shit-” Remus muttered into his neck, licking a stripe along one wing of the hawk there.

Sirius gasped and shifted, blinking to try and think through the part of his brain that wanted to just fuck Remus into the mattress, heedless of anything else. But he wasn’t ready to give that part of himself over either. He hadn’t bottomed in years and he still felt too raw to open himself up like that. “Fuck, ah, fuck my thighs, Moony.”

Remus sank his teeth into Sirius’ shoulder as an answer. “Yeah. Christ, Pads- yes.”

Sirius nodded, grinning and shuddering, and pushed lightly at Remus’ shoulder to get him to move. Remus tipped back a little as Sirius leant over to rummage through his bedside drawer for lube. Remus’ hand was warm and reassuring, rubbing over his spine, over the dragon curled there. For a moment the room was silent save for their panting breaths until Sirius drew back, bottle in hand. Remus kissed him softly then, a breathy, airy thing that pulled at Sirius’ insides and made him want to weep with it, before he pulled away to move to the side.

“No, no,” Sirius breathed, sinking into the bed and pulling Remus with him, hands cradling his face. “Like this, I want to see your face, Moons, like this.”

A stark look of vulnerability shot over Remus’ face, through the flush over the high points of his face that Sirius chased with his thumb, through the flash of his amber eyes in the dim light, but somehow so bright. Sirius smiled tentatively and nudged his legs together so Remus settled with a knee either side of his. “Yeah… okay.” Remus kissed him softly and slid the bottle of lube from his hand. “You’re so beautiful, Padfoot.”

Sirius was pretty sure he could fly at that moment. The rest of the world fell away, he didn’t care that he could still hear the film their friends were watching in the next room - just loud enough to drown them out - or that they had hurt each other so intently and torn each other open, because now Remus was looking at him like that and smiling at him just so and saying those words and guiding his cock into the lube-slick tightness of Sirius’ thighs.

“Ah, fuck, Sirius, oh God.” Remus dropped his forehead onto Sirius’ cheek, pressing open-mouthed kisses over the knife edge of his jawline, swirling his tongue. Then he moved, thrusting into the heat of Sirius’ thighs, his cock rubbing against the underside of Sirius’ balls, the tip sliding between his cheeks.

Sirius moaned, one hand in Remus’ hair, thumb against his temple, the other hand on his arse, fingers digging into the flesh and probably leaving marks. Remus moaned right back, scraping his teeth over Sirius’ neck. 

“Ohh, yes. Moony, yes, fuck, yes.” Sirius’ hips jerked upwards with every thrust, his free hand scrambling from Remus’ hair down over his shoulder to grasp his forearm as Remus shifted to wrap his still-slicked fingers around Sirius’ cock. Sirius linked his fingers with Remus’ other hand, squeezing their hands together, entwined on the pillow beside them. Remus lifted his head from Sirius’ neck as they held hands and looked at Sirius, amber eyes boring.

“Pads…”

Sirius squeezed his hand, staring up at Remus, throat exposed, eyelids fluttering with every thrust and corresponding twist of Remus’ wrist. Sirius felt so open, so exposed and yet so, so connected. Remus was staring down at him with adoration in those amber eyes, the slow thrust of their hips, the slide between his thighs, the slow pull over his own length, Remus so open, so exposed and yet so, so connected.

“Here, here, I’m here.” Sirius squeezed their linked fingers, and cupped Remus’ cheek to bring him in to a soft kiss, murmuring against his lips. “Oh God, you’re so gorgeous, fuck, Remus, ah, I’m close, so close-”

Remus kissed back with every press of their lips, eyes open, so bright, foreheads pressed together in the best closeness Sirius could ever imagine. “Sirius, Sirius, Sirius, oh, oh. You feel- fuck, Pads, you feel so good, Pads, so good.”

Sirius’ orgasm rioted through him with a snap in the pit of his belly, coming in white-hot ropes over his and Remus’ stomach. Sirius shuddered, blinking through the tension rapping through his body, unwilling to give even a second over to closing his eyes and not seeing Remus. 

Remus came with a susurration of Sirius’ name and a low wounded moan, teeth bared on the black of his lip ring, eyebrows pitched together. Sirius rubbed his thumb over the high point of Remus’ cheek, in awe of the look on his face as Remus spilled into the juncture of his thighs in a rush of heat. Remus dropped from his elbow to bury his face in Sirius’ neck. Sirius wrapped his arms around Remus’ chest, stroking over the length of his back, shifting his own legs apart, shuddering with the sudden release of tension. 

After a long moment, they both pitched to the side and Sirius waved a vague hand at the mess on one side of the sheets. “I’ll clean it tomorrow… Fuck, Moony, fuck.”

Remus kissed his temple and nuzzled into his hair. “God, you are amazing Sirius.”

Sirius drifted off to sleep in the wonderful half-awake aftermath of his orgasm, wound around Remus, curled together in the mess of his sheets. Just briefly, before he slipped away, he worried for a moment about sharing a bed with someone he cared about for the first time in years, nightmares looming on the horizon. But he drifted off with his mouth pressed against Remus’ shoulder.

When Sirius woke from a nightmare a few hours later, it was only when the crows began cawing, and he was drawn back to reality with Remus’ arm around his waist as a reassuring weight before they could dig in their talons. Instead of slipping out of bed and padding to the kitchen sink in his solitude, Remus stirred beside him - God he hoped he hadn’t been screaming - and pressed him back into the mattress, kissing his way down Sirius’ body to take him into his mouth. Together, they scrambled to a half-asleep climax and fell back into the bed in blissful aftershocks.

As Sirius fell asleep again, the caws of the crows were there but they were so quiet it hardly seemed important.

Who needs perfect? Sirius thought, I have this. 

Notes:

YOU GUYS. I definitely didn't cry writing this. And I'm writing the first chapter of MI2 right now to make myself feel better. All your comments and kudos and reading sincerely do make my Wednesday, I sit here crying reading them all, I adore you!

I hope you see this as a pause in the story like I do, and not a real ending. See you next week for MI2!

Chapter 26: not a chapter

Marauder Ink 2: Black and Grey is up and running!

Come over to join us for more tattoo drama, angst, fluff, relationship issues and learning to love!

 

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Marauder Ink