Chapter Text
Remus doesn’t know how Lily convinced him to travel with her to the Hamptons for the summer. It was probably her persistence. He didn’t want to surround himself for eight weeks with rich people who would take one look at him and assume they were better than him. Although, the expensive champagne and gorgeous beaches he didn’t mind as much.
Lily’s parents own a modest four-bedroom near the water - sparkling blue encased by soft, white sand tufted with reedy greenery. They’re not rich enough for the mansions with high hedges that line the warm streets, but they are certainly rich enough for a holiday home amongst the rich and famous.
Lily begged him during their final weeks at NYU, holed away in cafes and the library, faces greasy with oil and fingers jittering from too much caffeine as they finished final assignments and crammed for exams.
During one of their breaks, Remus having just one more assignment to complete before he was free for three months, Lily tried once again. They were sitting in a patch of sunlight in a hidden away courtyard between faculty buildings.
“Please, Remus. What are you going to do all summer? You’re place doesn’t have air-con and the windows barely open,” Lily reasons, red hair pulled into a long braid down her back.
Remus sighs, “Can we please drop this? I’m going to get a job and work and maybe finish my script.” He bites into his stale sandwich.
“The script that has been sitting half-finished on your laptop all year?” Lily questions, sardonic.
He tugs the end of her braid and takes another bite. “Well maybe I’ll actually be able to finish it without you bothering me all the time. Or a stack of readings and assignments constantly needing to be finished.”
Lily rolls her eyes. “Please, every weekend you’re practically begging me to take you out.” Remus scoffs. “I don’t know why you don’t just get on one of those apps and save yourself the trouble.”
“It’s far more fun my way,” Remus sniffs.
Lily drains the last of her lukewarm coffee and wacks his arm. “There’ll be heaps of hot, rich boys for you to hook up with all summer. It’s basically a fuckfest up there every year.”
Remus snorts, shoving the final crust of his sandwich into his mouth. “I know. I’ve heard all about your last two summers, Lils. And anyway, I’m going to take a guess and say majority of those guys are closeted and terrified of mummy and daddy finding out they’re queer?”
Lily tilts her head. “You’d be surprised.”
“Believe me. I won’t be.”
“Wait? Won’t be. As in you’ll come and find out for yourself about the cute boys?”
Remus sighs and scrubs at his eyes, sore and gritty from staring at his laptop for five hours that day. Remus thinks of his stuffy apartment and cheap bedding, his next-door neighbours that have loud sex every night until one in the morning. He thinks of trudging up and down Manhattan looking for a job that pays more than a pittance and then working that job, likely at a café or restaurant where tourists yell at him and don’t leave tips, and he just can’t be bothered. He is tired of working and gritting his teeth. What could two months in the Hamptons, enjoying the trappings of the wealthy, really do? It is, he thinks, something he deserves after years of living on bated breath and one piece of toast and peanut butter for dinner at the ends of his student allowance.
“I’ll come with you to the Hamptons,” he replies tiredly.
Lily squeals and wraps an arm around Remus. “You won’t regret this.”
“If I don’t have sex in some rich boys mansion on like, a four poster bed with an ocean view, we’re no longer friends.”
“Duly noted,” Lily complies, nodding. Then she’s gathering her laptop and their notes, not bothering to sort it between them. “We’ll finish this later,” she says. “I’ve got to buy you swimmers. Oh and definitely some linen. Do you own linen?” She shakes her head. “Of course not. All you own are sweaters and oversized t-shirts,” she mumbles mainly to herself.
Remus sighs and follows Lily out of the courtyard, knowing she will have her way with him.
///
Remus gulps down his second glass of champagne, squinting against the sunlight refracting off the bleached white tiles. Lily hovers at his side, eyes scanning the large balcony scattered with people dressed in flowing neutral-toned linen, dripping in jewellery that could pay Remus’ way through college. Or at least provide him with three square meals a day each week.
The champagne is settling onto the other side of cool in his palm, and sweat gathers on his brow. He tries to discreetly wipe at it with the back of his hand, taking another gulp of champagne, letting it fizz away on his tongue.
Lily nudges his side. “Slow down, will you?”
“It takes far more than two glasses of champagne and the afternoon sun to get me drunk. You should know,” whispers Remus, leaning down to her ear.
Lily turns towards him, the front bits of her hair braided and pulled away from her face. Her freckles have already darkened on her nose in the one day they’ve been in the Hamptons, cheeks rosy in the heat. She adjusts the collar of his beige linen shirt, patting it to lie flat.
“I know. But people here watch that kind of thing,” Lily replies, returning to gazing out at the crowd. She has been a part of these circles since she was born, but the set of her shoulders depict the discomfort of not quite fitting in.
Her parents are both doctors, treating the geriatric parents and reckless children of the elite. They are invited to these parties and smiled at and admired for their work, but it is in the eyes of every person here that they know they pay their bills. In the twist of their mouths they say, and you should know it too.
“Are you sure my shorts aren’t too tight?” Remus asks. He wants to adjust them in some way so they don’t feel stretched taut.
Lily smothers a laugh with a sip of champagne. “They’re supposed to be that tight. Everything else you own is just ridiculously oversized.”
Remus sighs. “Fine, fine. Okay.” He looks out across the pavilion and spots the shaded bar area. “I’m getting another drink.” He looks at her again. “Do we have to attend many more of these over the summer?”
Lily failed to mention the various events and galas and functions on their calendar, springing these afternoon drinks hosted by some well-known banking family on him this morning during breakfast.
Lily does not look him in the eye. “Oh, here and there.”
“You’re evil.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Go drink the free champagne.”
He sighs and wanders over, slipping between groups of people with his head ducked low. His shoulders curl inwards until he reaches the bar, laying his hands atop the cool marble.
The bartender smiles and leans forward. “What can I get for you?” He bites the corner of his bottom lip and Remus forces his eyebrows to stay low.
“Just another champagne, please.”
The man winks. “No problem.”
Remus watches him pour the glass with deft hands and slide it across the countertop. He thanks him and the man returns to cleaning glasses and serving others. Remus remains at the bar, off to the side, and takes stock of the balcony. He sips the tart drink and texts Lily.
Remus: christ are half the men under the age of thirty here queer?
Lily: told you
Lily: where are you? come back, petunia is trying to talk me into finding a nice man to chat to. how many times do I need to say im gay?
Remus: coming soon
Lily: stop looking at boys and save me!!!
Remus pockets his phone and takes a breath to watch the water shimmering like jewels underneath the sun. Another few hours and it will be bleeding into the horizon, awash with oranges and yellows. But for now, the sun beats down between the patches of shade and leaves Remus’ cheeks pink.
“I haven’t see you here before,” a deep voice interrupts him.
Remus turns towards a man around his age with golden brown skin and wire-framed glasses. He’s got a half-smile playing at his lips and beige trousers that hug his thighs. A dusting of dark hair puffs out from his white button-up. Remus takes a swig of his drink and takes a step towards him.
“No. I’m here with a friend. First time at the Hamptons this year.”
The boy smiles, and it’s a crooked thing, wide and with teeth. Remus smiles back. “With Lily, right?”
Remus nods.
“Are you two dating?” he asks.
Remus laughs, head thrown back. A breeze scatters the curls on his forehead. It barely tussles the other boy’s hair, already wild and untameable. “No. Lily and I aren’t dating. Although, she’s not exactly available to boys like you.”
He smiles and ruffles a hand through his hair, taking a step closer, casual in his movements. “That wasn’t why I was asking,” he says. Then holds out a hand, large and calloused. “I’m James, by the way.”
Remus clasps his hand and holds for a moment. His palm is dry against Remus’ sweaty one and Remus pulls away quickly. “Remus Lupin,” he offers.
“It’s lovely to meet you,” James says, and then his expression changes. The smile grows but his brown eyes darken, tightening at the corners.
“I have not seen that ass before,” a voice announces. Another boy around his age swings passed Remus and throws his arm across James’ shoulder. There is something almost possessive in the gesture, even as he rakes his eyes across Remus. “And I believe I would remember such a beautiful sight,” he finishes and holds out his hand. “Sirius Black.”
Remus raises his eyebrows and returns the handshake, introducing himself once again. His gaze flicks to James and follows the way he shifts in Sirius’ hold, how one hand, fingernails ragged, clutches at his shirtsleeve for a moment.
They all drain their glasses and Sirius waves over a waiter, handling three more. Sirius swipes a strand of black hair from his face, the rest of his hair tied in a low bun, and grins. It is sharp and his eyes whip with unidentifiable danger. Remus looks at both boys and feels his heart thud. He shifts closer still.
“I’m here with Lily,” he offers although Sirius has not exactly asked. “First time at the Hamptons.”
Sirius nods and James explains, “They’re not together.”
Sirius glances at James, just a hair shorter than him, and pulls away from the hold. He cocks his hip as he folds his arms. “Brilliant. Your pursuit can continue of the wonderful Lily.” Sirius’ voice is teasing, but there is an edge to his words.
Remus snorts. “I don’t think that’ll work out.”
Sirius cocks his head, grey eyes narrowing on him. Remus flushes. “Why is that?”
“Well.” Remus gnaws at his bottom lip. “Lily is distinctly uninterested in men.”
“Oh,” James says.
“What about you?” Sirius asks.
“Am I interested in men?” Remus grins.
Sirius nods and James looks slightly pained, taking another drink of champagne and rolling his eyes. But his gaze settles back on Remus.
“The only way I could get Remus to join me here,” Lily interrupts, sidling into their trio and hooking an arm through his. “Is by promising that some hot, rich boy would fuck him in a bedroom with an ocean view.” She finishes her champagne and places it on a passing tray. “So I would answer that as a definitive yes.”
Remus sighs. Sirius looks amused and James is glancing between all three of them.
Lily grasps two more glasses and hands one to Remus. He drains the one already in his hand and sets it on the bar. “Say Potter, Black,” Lily muses. “You both have mansions on the water, don’t you?”
Remus groans, “Lily.” But she is tugging him away, red nails clasped around his forearm.
He does not look back, but he does hear spluttering and thumping and Sirius saying, “There, there James. He’s pretty but don’t get too excited.”
///
The afternoon drags on, mainly involving Lily and Remus avoiding Petunia and her attempts at making them talk to straight men. They drink far too much champagne that makes their grins loose and laughter louder. They sequester themselves on a side balcony after Lily catches Remus scanning the pavilion for the fifth time for a head of messy, black hair and those grey eyes. She mumbles something about trouble, and too rich, telling him not to get involved. But Remus has drunk close to a bottle of champagne and he can’t stop thinking about those boys. He wants to track their movements, watch the way they circle each other. He wants to understand them. They frustratingly, desperately intrigue him. It makes his chest flush and he crimps the material between his fingers, pulling it away from his skin and back again.
Lily swigs her champagne, tongue peeking out to lick the pink bow of her lips. “Oh god. You had a five minute conversation with them, you absolute tool.”
Remus grins and leans against the glass railing. He can make out the edges of the party from this position, and he caught sight of golden brown skin for a minute there. “Leave me alone,” he demands. “You saw that lifeguard yesterday and talked about her for an hour.”
Lily huffs. “Fine.” She tips his glass up until it drains into his mouth and takes it away as he swallows. “More champagne,” she says and bounds off.
Remus watches her go and then follows, weaving inside the house and down a cool, dark hallway in search of a bathroom. The sweat that had been gathering on his skin begins to dry once he’s out of the sun, and the dark marble tiles click under his shoes. He wanders through hallways and comes out in a living room that looks across the back of the property before doubling back and rounding a corner. He pauses at the end and then backs around again as tense voices drift towards him.
“Why are you acting like this?” James demands. His words stretch taut across the quiet. His deep voice sounds almost pleading.
“Like what?” Sirius snarks.
A sigh. “Like… I don’t know.”
“Right,” he snaps. His words are clipped. “It’s whatever. Just go back to flirting with that girl.”
James groans. “I wasn’t flirting!”
“Please. I know what it looks like. You were.”
“Trust me, Sirius. You don’t know what it looks like,” he snaps. A quivering tension, like anger waiting to be dredged up from his gut and bled into the spaces between them, stumbles along James’ voice.
“What does that even mean?” Sirius demands, but footsteps track down the hall and he receives no reply.
Remus grips the bottom of his shirt in his fist, feet shuffling on the marble before he starts around the corner. His breathing quickens as James sees him. James pauses for a second, steps stuttering as he looks at Remus. Then, he flashes a tight smile and continues walking. Remus’ shoulders sink down. Sirius is no longer at the end of the hall. Remus frowns and cranes his neck as he rounds the next corner, stumbling to a stop as he spots Sirius slumped on a wide window seat, forehead pressed against the glass.
“Hi,” Remus says. He adjusts the collar of his shirt and takes several steps forward.
Sirius tilts his head and raises an eyebrow. “Hello.”
“Can I sit?” he asks and Sirius gestures forward, as if to say ‘go ahead’.
Remus perches on the seat, swinging his legs up to mirror Sirius’ position. Their feet point towards each other, the toes of their shoes almost touching. Remus drapes an arm around his spindly knees, fingers tugging at his pale leg hairs.
Sirius looks towards him, tugging on pieces of hair falling into his eyes. “What are you doing inside?” he asks.
Remus clears his throat, tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. He needs a glass of water. “Looking for the bathroom.”
Sirius nods his head to a door next to them. “It’s right there. But there’s a bathroom outside near the bar.”
Remus bites back a smile. “Oh.”
Sirius grins and chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, do you need to go?”
Remus shrugs. “I don’t know. Are you okay?”
Sirius ducks his head down and looks back up. His mouth is pulled into a tight line, and something tired flits behind his grey eyes. “Why do you ask?”
“I didn’t mean to intrude.” You did. “But I heard you and James fighting. Or it sounded like it. Just thought I’d see if you’re okay,” Remus explains.
“You don’t know me,” Sirius says flatly.
“No,” Remus agrees.
Sirius inhales, shoulders rising and causing his dark button up to stretch across his shoulders. He’s not as built as James, but he has a lithe musculature to him, reminding Remus of a ballet dancer. “Sometimes, James and I fight,” he shrugs. “It’s complicated…I guess.” He stares at Remus and Remus holds his eyes. Holds his breath.
“How?” Remus fiddles with his leather shoelaces.
“We’ve been friends since we were kids. Same school and same college now,” Sirius explains. “Inseparable.”
“But?” he prompts.
Sirius’ eyes flick to the window and back to Remus. His body winds up, tightening. “There is no but,” he responds. Shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it.”
Remus watches as Sirius swings his feet, planting them on the ground. His fingers grasp the cushioned ledge, whitening at the edges. He stares at the ground and Remus can see it. He can see it in the tight set of Sirius’ shoulders and the way his mouth pulls along his face, the ease draining away. He and James are more than friends. It makes something funny twist in his chest, bubble up hot into his throat. Remus swallows it down.
“Okay,” he says. “Thought I’d check in but I’ll leave you to it.” Remus stands up and heads towards the door that Sirius pointed to.
“Remus?” He turns around and Sirius is watching him with a strange expression. Remus can’t parse out the layers of it. “How long are you here for?”
“A while.”
Sirius grins. It’s not as bright as before but it’s there and Remus feels something stir in his chest, something warm.
“Well I’ll see you around then?”
Remus smiles. “Oh, I’m sure you will.”
///
Remus is lounging on the beach when he next sees them. Lily is off somewhere with that lifeguard, Mary. She wouldn’t call it a date but she put on her shortest skirt and did her eyeliner in that way that makes her green eyes bright and fierce. Remus hasn’t seen it fail her once on their nights out.
He’s lying on the sand, letting the grains slip through his fingers, digging in to its depths until his fingertips reach the damp underground and he drags them back out. His eyes are closed, the sun creating starbursts behind his eyelids. There is laughter and bellowing voices and Remus tilts his head just so, cracking open his eyes. The world gleams white for a moment before he adjusts and can make out Sirius and James a few feet away. James is setting up a blue and white striped beach umbrella, digging the handle down in the sand while Sirius talks to him, stripping off his t-shirt.
Remus props himself up on his elbows and fiddles with the sunscreen bottle lying next to him.
“Hey!” he calls out. Both boys whip their heads towards him. Remus sits up further. “Could one of you do my back?”
They stare at him, hands shading their eyes. Sirius moves first, stepping forward.
He clears his throat. “Yeah. I can.”
Remus smiles and stands up, dragging his towel and bag along with him, dropping it next to theirs. He hands the bottle to Sirius and turns around. He hears James start setting up the umbrella again and the click of the sunscreen cap, then slick hands gliding down his shoulder blades. Remus tilts his neck, stretching it out as Sirius massages the sticky liquid into his sun-warmed back. Sirius coats his hands once more, gliding them to the small of his back, digging his thumbs into the muscles. When he splays his hands, his fingers wrap around his hips. Remus moves away, sprawling back out on his towel.
“Thanks,” he says, grinning up at Sirius.
Sirius shakes a hand through his hair, brushing his collarbones today. “You’re welcome.”
He lies down next to him and James joins on his other side. They’re not quite within reach of the umbrella’s shade.
“Do either of you need help with your sunscreen?” Remus asks without moving his head.
“No thank you,” James replies. “We already put some on before getting here.”
They’re quiet for a bit, Sirius swinging his knee in and out, James lying on his stomach, head resting on folded arms. His face is upturned to the sun, casting peculiar shadows under his eyes.
Eventually, Remus sits up. They both crack open their eyes without moving. “So is there anything to do around here besides go to the beach and get drunk at ridiculous functions?”
James grins. “Well sometimes we just drink at our houses or the beach.”
“All the college aged kids generally know each other so we get together and whatnot. Sleep together in increasingly incestuous pairings,” Sirius offers.
“We’ve all been coming here since we were teenagers at least. Except for new staff every summer,” James adds, burrowing his head further into his arms and looking up at Remus beneath his lashes. Remus allows himself to smile at him. James grins back.
“And others that occasionally come through,” Sirius says and Remus moves his gaze to find him smirking.
Remus cocks an eyebrow and looks out to the water as it stretches into the horizon. “So if I’m lucky I’ll maybe get to party with the future leaders of America? How thrilling,” he deadpans.
He tugs his sunglasses from his hair and slides them onto his nose. Sirius sits up, dusting sand onto both their towels and flattens a piece of Remus’ hair. He’s close for a moment, so close that Remus can see the patch of stubble he missed shaving that morning, right at the hinge of his jaw. He smells of expensive cologne, salt, and sunscreen.
Sirius leans back and tilts his head. “Exactly.”
James sits up, back slumping into a curve as he watches both of them. “I don’t know. I definitely wouldn’t call Sirius the future of America,” James teases.
“Oi!” Sirius cries and shoves James. James pushes him back and they’re grappling in the sand, laughing into each other’s skin. Remus bites his lip and curls a hand around his knee. “Art history,” Sirius puffs, disentangling from James’ grasp and moving back until he’s pressed to Remus’ side, all hot, smooth skin. “Has a perfectly viable future.”
James snorts. Remus laughs. “You’re studying art history?” he asks.
Sirius twists, head lolling onto his shoulder. “I am,” he confirms.
“I wouldn’t have picked that.”
“Most people don’t,” James says quietly, eyes locked on Sirius.
“What’s your major?” Remus asks. Sirius still hasn’t moved his head, his hair tickling his chest.
“English literature at the moment. But I want to go into Law,” James replies. He fiddles with his glasses. “My parents do contract law, mainly. But I want to do humans rights stuff.”
Remus’ mouth pops open for a moment. He wasn’t expecting that. He wasn’t expecting either of them.
Sirius finally moves back to his own towel and lounges, stretched out and propped on his elbows. His pale skin gleams under the sun. There is a thin trail of dark hair stretching from his navel to his shorts, framed by the faint v of his muscles.
“So what do you study, Remus?” Sirius questions.
Remus looks away and ruffles the front of his hair. “Film at NYU.”
“Ooh,” Sirius coos. “He’s artsy.”
“That suits you,” James offers.
Remus laughs and shrugs. “I like it. Are you two at Columbia?”
James cocks his head. “How did you know?”
“Lucky guess.”
“We stayed in the dorms during freshman year,” Sirius explains. “Separately though because James said we should branch out entering college,” he sighs dramatically.
James scoffs and hits his stomach. “We’d been living together at boarding school for four years. I figured we could spare a year apart. For the co-dependency.”
Sirius rolls his eyes and stands up, brushing sand off his chest. “How well it turned out. We moved right back in with each other a year later off campus.”
“I just couldn’t resist you darling,” James proclaims, standing up and dropping his glasses to his towel. He grins at Sirius warmly and Remus suspects there is more truth than dramatics behind those words.
Sirius offers a hand to Remus and he takes it. He hauls him up and Remus stumbles slightly until a warm palm slides along his waist to steady him. Remus’ breath stutters in his chest and he pulls back.
Sirius glances between the both of them before spinning on his heel and taking off. He calls over his shoulder, “Race you to the water!”
James and Remus both sprint after him, sand kicking up behind them. They veer around children building sandcastles, feet hitting the ground in dull thuds. James pulls ahead of both of them despite Sirius’ head start and dives into an incoming wave. Sirius meets him, tackling him back into the water and Remus slows, wading in, letting his body get used to the cool water slapping at his thighs. He cups his hands into the water and splashes his face, repeating the motion to drag damp fingers through his hair. Swiping the water from his eyes, he opens them to Sirius watching him intently.
He looks away. “Hey James?” Remus calls.
“Yeah?”
“How well can you see without your glasses?”
“Truthfully, fuck all,” he supplies.
Remus ducks low, letting the water come up to his neck as he approaches James’ side. He is looking towards the shore, unfocused as he floats in the waves.
“Remus, you’ve made me nervous.” He glances around but doesn’t see him approaching. Sirius laughs.
Remus pauses when he’s behind James and says, “I don’t know why you’d be nervous.” With a shout, he launches himself onto James’ back, hooking his arms around his neck and dumping them underneath the clear water.
Everything is quiet for a moment, that vacuum of underwater space, just the whooshing of waves tumbling onto shore and sand whipped up from the seafloor. And then they break the surface, limbs still entangled, sound engulfing them once more. Remus has somehow shifted to James’ front in the fray, close enough that he can see the smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose.
“That was rude,” James says. There’s the barest pout on his lips.
“You have freckles,” Remus breathes.
James smiles, eyes crinkling. “So do you.”
“I thought you couldn’t see.”
“Better up close.”
“Oh.”
James licks water from his lips. Remus does the same and tastes salt. Tastes want. He lets go and James’ hands slip from his hips. He hadn’t even noticed them there, but he feels the lack of weight with them gone.
Remus swims over to Sirius, who is bobbing in and out of the water. He dunks him by the shoulder, leaping into it and Sirius comes up spluttering. He spurts some water from his mouth. Remus kind of wants to lick it as it drips from his chin.
He swallows down his desire and says, “Now its even.”
“Hardly,” huffs Sirius. He swims closer. Their legs brush as they tread water. “Do I have freckles?”
Remus looks at him, feels a smile pulling at his lips. He leans his face close and inspects. Sirius’ skin is smooth and pale. He has just one mole sitting at his jaw on the right side. “No,” Remus murmurs.
Sirius swipes a thumb across Remus’ cheek. “James was right,” he said. “You do.”
Remus blushes and pulls away from Sirius’ piercing stare, his pale eyes seeming to burrow deep into the marrow of his bones without even trying. He ducks back into the water, away from the both of them, submerging himself in the liminal space of underwater, the vacuum, before dredging himself back up, gasping for breath, face upturned to the sky.
James and Sirius are swimming near each other, looking out to the beachfront. Remus whips his head, letting water fly from his hair, tendrils plastering to his forehead. He loosens it with a hand.
“I’m starving,” he announces. “Do you two want to get some food?”
///
They dry themselves off at their towels and Remus does his best not to stare at the both of them in their shorts, tight and high on their thighs. They take their valuables but leave the towels and umbrella, and Sirius tries to drag them to some expensive restaurant along the beachfront. Remus is having none of it and grasps both their forearms, gritty with sand, and drags them down the main path until he comes across a dingy stall, ordering them fish and chips from the window. Humid air from the fryers pours out of the shop and Remus steps back as they wait. James and Sirius peer in as if they have never seen anything like it before. And perhaps they haven’t. Perhaps Remus is offering them a new and exciting experience in their quest for lunch that day. The thought makes him smile out towards the road.
Five minutes of waiting and their number is called, and they are all weaving between families and sunburnt, scowling teenagers to their spot on the beach. James tries to offer him money for the lunch but Remus elbows his hand away. He can manage some fish and chips for the three of them.
They huddle under the umbrella, knees knocking, and tear into the butcher paper, using their fingers to dig into the battered fish, licking salt and oil from their fingers until their mouths are burning. They eat without pause until only a handful of golden chips are left and their stomachs are aching with food.
Sirius sucks his thumb into his mouth, dredging the last granules of salt. It slips from his lips and he says, “How did we not know about that place?”
James’ head is tilted back, hands buried in the sand. “I don’t know,” he groans. “But it was fucking delicious.”
Remus tucks up the last of the food in the butcher paper and shoves it near James’ bag to throw out later. “I guess there are still things in the Hamptons left for you two to discover,” Remus says.
Sirius grins at him. James tilts his head forward again and just watches.
“I guess so,” answers Sirius.
They lounge in the sun for a while longer, but the afternoon is wearing on, and Lily is likely back from her date, so Remus makes to stand. He gathers his belongings and watches as Sirius and James sit up.
“Are you leaving?” Sirius asks.
“Yeah. Lily will be waiting for me.”
James hastily stands. “Okay. Well, give us your number so we can hang out again.”
Remus smiles and holds his hand out for James’ phone, entering his name and number in his contacts.
“Can I have it too?” Sirius asks.
James rests a hand to Sirius’ head and says with laughter in his voice, “I’ll give it to you in a sec, love.”
Remus grins, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth and waves at them as he strides across the hot sand.
///
Remus has hung out with them twice more, and is on the verge of burning James’ orange board shorts for his own sanity, but then he would no longer get to witness his strong thighs encased in the material, which seems like the worse option in the end. There has also been brief entertainment of shaving Sirius’ head. But Remus is sure he could pull off a buzzcut and he hates him for it, just a bit.
In short, they are driving him crazy. He wants to spend every second with them.
Lily thinks it’s hilarious.
“What is your obsession with them? They’re just some rich guys from New York!”
“I’m not obsessed,” Remus grumbles.
“You may as well be,” Lily snorts. “I can practically see all the sordid daydreams you have about them when you come back from hanging out. And what’s worse, the non-sordid ones. Like holding their hand and having James kiss your cheek and tucking Sirius’ hair behind his ear-“
“Okay, enough!” Remus shouts into the dark street. “Okay, yes. They are nice and very good-looking and maybe I would like to kiss either of them or both of them at the same time. Okay. Leave me alone.”
“Oh, this is going to end in disaster,” Lily hums. “I can’t wait.”
“You’re the worst.”
“I know, sweetheart.”
“I hope Mary stops talking to you.”
“Lucky I got that girl’s number at the beach today then. Delilah.”
Remus sighs and slings an arm around her, pulling them into the night. The air is temperate, cooling the sweat that lingers on Remus’ skin from his shower that afternoon, dressing in the sunlight spilling into the guest room from the west. He’s wearing mid-waisted brown shorts he found at the back of his cupboard from some vintage store in New York, along with a faded Strokes t-shirt. He thinks it was his father’s, left in a dusty box in the attic of his family home in the Midwest, years after Lyall left them with Hope’s meagre nursing salary and a fussy five year old.
Lily prattles on about Delilah, and Remus nods along, eyes scanning the streets as they pass the fancy restaurants brimming with haughty laughter and suits pressed into crisp lines. He holds his breath, telling himself he is not searching for Sirius’ devilish grin and James’ booming, bright laughter.
They trawl the quieter streets pressed at the end of town, houses tucked away for servers and other summer staff to share over the blazing months. They reach a sweet looking house, small porch wrapped around the front and fairy lights strung across the railing.
Lily cracks the wine they brought, taken from her parent’s fridge, as they walk down the cracked path and up the steps into the house pulsing with music. The lights are dim and Remus recognises no one, but Lily beams at a group of people and bounds over, dragging Remus with her. Her long braids swing behind her, paired with short purple dungarees over a black bralette that should’ve made her look like an oversized child, but in reality showcase her milky, freckled skin and rosy shoulders. She looks beautiful, as always.
Lily takes a swig from the bottle and hands it to Remus, who follows her lead. The rosé is tart on his tongue, but still cool despite the walk. He takes another gulp and hands it back to her. Lily hangs over Delilah, who looks beyond pleased that Lily is touching her, with blue eyes hazy from alcohol and weed, if Remus can smell correctly. His mind is a little slow. They drank before they came here, and him and Lily only snacked on chips while getting ready.
Remus introduces himself to the girl on his left, Yaz, and spends a good hour discussing film and literature, both of them completing the same degree at different universities. When the rosé lies discarded at his feet, Lily in the depths of the party, and Yaz lets her hand linger on his arm for a beat too long, he peels off into the kitchen.
Through a doorway, and it’s like Remus has stepped across a portal into the 70s. Brown and yellow tiles, discoloured at the grout, mark the floor, and the cupboards are a dark wood. There’s a table in the centre of the room, bottles of alcohol piled atop it, the scratched wood sticky with the remnants of people’s drinks. He pours a generous glug of vodka into a cloudy glass and tops it with ginger ale, ignoring the burn as it slides down his throat.
“Fancy seeing you here,” a voice purrs beside him.
Remus smothers a laugh, because what a line, and turns towards the man. “Hi.”
The bartender from the party the week before, all swooping blonde hair and corded forearms, smiles at him. “Hi. I never caught your name.”
“Remus,” he offers, taking another sip of his drink, allowing a coy lilt to touch his smile.
“I’m Damien.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Damien.”
Damien shuffles closer, leaning his hip against the table and takes a drink from his beer. “I didn’t expect to see you here, after the party you were at last week,” he begins.
Remus inclines his head, angling his head down, letting curls fall onto his forehead. “I don’t particularly belong there.” He pauses. “Although, I suppose I don’t belong here either. I’m not working this summer.”
“What are you doing here, then?” Damien asks.
Remus licks his lip, capturing a stray drop of liquid. Obsessing over two absurdly privileged, deeply endearing boys who are clearly into each other, his mind supplies. Making my life more difficult than it needs to be, it says after.
“Having a holiday with my friend. Lily Evans,” he finally lands on.
Damien’s eyebrows rise in recognition. “Ah yeah, I know her. She’s always around during the summer. Seems more keen hanging out with the help than her crowd.”
“Not exactly her crowd either, though.”
Damien regards him for a moment. “But she’s not working for the summer, is she?”
Remus bites back a grin. “No. She isn’t.”
Damien drains his beer. “Another drink?” he asks, inclining his head at the almost-empty cup in Remus’ grasp.
“Please,” he murmurs.
An hour and two drinks later, Remus is under Damien, crowded into the backseat of his Toyota. He had waved at Lily across the wavering cigarette smoke in the living room as Damien led them several streets away to his car.
Remus’ shorts are gathered around his thighs, with his shoes still on and jammed against the door opposite, Damien’s hands stroking him through his underwear. He hitches out a breathy moan and latches his lips to Damien’s neck, tasting sweat. Damien drops his head to Remus’ shoulder and removes his hand, rutting down into Remus. They both moan and the windows are fogged up, sweat sticking to their heated skin, the car jolting with their movements, making it exceedingly obvious what they are doing to anyone passing by.
Eventually, Damien works him open and is pressing in, and then they are rocking and panting and pleasure sparks up Remus’ spin until he is finishing into Damien’s hand, some mess splattering onto his stomach. Thankfully, he misses his shirt, bunched around his armpits.
Damien comes quickly after him with a punched out groan and slapping skin, far less enticing now that Remus has reached his end.
There is silence, their heavy breaths mingling in the humid space. Then Damien is sitting up, manoeuvring awkwardly in the cramped backseat, and Remus is shimmying his shorts and underwear over himself, using a napkin on the floor to wipe at the leftover mess before adjusting his shirt. He sits up just a bit, wincing as the movement twinges the slight burn from his behind, and scrabbles with the door handle. It creaks open and Remus stumbles out, further adjusting his clothes and himself, relishing in the cool breeze that smells of salt and firewood wafting off the ocean. Damien clambers out of the car behind him, cheeks flushed and looking dishevelled. He ruffles his hair and walks to the driver’s door, cracking it open.
“I’ll see you round, Remus,” he says, voice a little rough.
Remus nods and shuffles his feet, the moonlight shimmering across the both of them, lighting up the car and what feels like everything they just did, and Remus just wants to get home and wash away the encounter. Words clutter in his throat, stick to his dry tongue, so he just nods and watches as Damien pulls away from the curb and drives away.
Two slow inhales and then, “Remus?”
The familiar voice flits across his spine, thrilling in his stomach.
He turns around. “Sirius,” he responds. His voice is low and stretched. He clears his throat. “James.”
They are both looking at him with mingling expressions of surprise and confusion.
“What are you two doing around here?” he asks, shoving his hands into his pockets, picking at the scrap of paper deep inside.
James adjusts his pale cream jacket at its collar and inclines his head to the left. Remus has to close his eyes from a moment because, god, every colour he wears looks sinful upon him. “My place is this way. It’s shorter to cut through here.”
“Oh.”
Remus remembers Damien’s car was a few minutes walk away, closer to the bustling town centre.
“What are you doing here?” Sirius asks, rustling a hand through his hair. He’s wearing a dark jacket of thicker material than James, matching with tight pants. There is something needling in his tone, a watchfulness in his silver eyes that has Remus flushing beneath the dim streetlamp and ghostly moonlight.
“There was a party. Lily knew some people.” Remus shrugged. “I went along.”
James glances around and leans against a streetlamp pole. He smiles with a small frown. Remus shuffles forward, just a bit. “I can’t see a party.”
“It was a few streets away,” Remus explains, heart picking up into an unsteady rhythm.
“Who was the boy you were with?” Sirius questions. Remus can’t parse a single thing from his expression but his arms are folded.
“Just – uh – a guy from the party. He was a bartender at that, um, thing last week.”
They both straighten then, glancing at each other before their gaze rebounds and skitters away, finding a common resting place on Remus. He burns with their eyes on him.
James clears his throat and breaks the strange, flitting quiet between them. “Oh, cool.” The tone is devoid of its usual warmth.
Remus swallows and thinks perhaps he has gotten it completely, horribly wrong. That the tension he sensed between James and Sirius is about some girl they are both into, or another spat all together, and the vice that draws him in to both of them was all in his head. Because they seem almost disgusted. James is smiling but it orders itself all wrong on his face, and Sirius won’t look at him.
“Right,” Remus sighs. “Well, I better head back.”
He spins around, slightly disoriented, and sets off.
“Remus!” James calls out.
He turns around.
Sirius asks, fiddling with his jacket button, “We’re still meeting up tomorrow, right? For the beach?”
Remus swallows. Nods. “Yeah, sure.”
They both break into bright smiles and Remus tries to return it, but his stomach is churning and the wine and vodka is roiling. He might throw up. So, he turns around and keeps walking until he eventually finds the streets that lead him back to Lily’s.
///
The next day, heady foggy with the aftereffects of the alcohol, mouth cottony and dry, Remus pulls on his board shorts drying on the bath tap and throws on a large t-shirt. With only a pause at the doorway, he grasps his skateboard, fingertips finding the groove on the side, a chunk missing from when he stacked it at a skate park several months ago.
He skates down the wide roads, his shirt billowing out behind him, the wind whipping at his cheeks perpetually bloomed pink from the sun. Only one car honks at him for being on the road, but he arrives at the stairs descending onto the beach, board scraping against the concrete and drawing James and Sirius’ gaze towards him.
He steps onto the end of his board and it bounces into his hand. “Morning,” he greets.
They both blink at him. He raises an eyebrow, adjusting the board beneath his arm.
Sirius swipes his hair into a bun. “Morning.”
“I didn’t know you skated,” James says.
Remus steps forward and watches James run his eyes down his body. “Have done since middle school. Do you?”
James shakes head and his wild curls ruffle at his ears. “I could teach you,” Remus offers.
James grins. “I’d like that.”
“Did you get home alright?” Sirius asks, folding his arms across his chest and looking at him. It’s a stare that Remus has caught many times over the hours they’ve spent together, like he’s appraising, peeling back the layers of Remus and seeing everything. It makes him feel exposed.
Remus shifts on his feet and the awkwardness from the night before returns. “Sure,” he says.
“Good.”
Remus cocks a brow and starts down the stairs to the beach. He calls over his shoulder, “Aren’t you two queer?”
He hears them follow and when they appear on either side of him, he has to bite back a smile at the blush on both their cheeks. James’ cheeks are rosy, just at the sharp jut of his cheekbones, hidden behind his dark skin. Sirius flushes across his forehead too, as if he has been caught in the sun. Remus finds himself memorising both images, searing them into his brain.
“What- why do you ask?” James asks.
Remus stops and settles his towel on the sand. They both follow his movements, glancing at him. He settles onto his hands after shucking off his shirt. “You’re both acting strange. And all that’s changed is you two seeing me last night after –“
“After you fucked that guy,” Sirius finishes for him, sunglasses shielding his eyes as he stares at the glistening water.
“Sirius,” James admonishes.
Remus chuckles. “Yeah.”
“We’re not homophobic,” James rushes to explain, running a hand through his hair. “I’m bi.”
Remus nods and Sirius adds, “I’m gay. We were just surprised.”
“Okay,” Remus says slowly.
They settle onto their towels, eyes closed against the blinding sunlight. The rays sear his skin. He should really put on sunscreen.
“Do you do that often?” James asks after a few minutes, soft and tentative. Remus feels him move on his towel through the shifting sand.
“What?”
“Fuck random men,” Sirius explains.
Remus laughs and stretches his arms above his head. “I’m more into getting fucked myself. But sometimes. Not much else to do here.”
Something presses down on the three of them then, heavy and enticing. Remus is desperately aware of the heat from both of them, either side of him. He can hear their breaths despite the rolling waves and squealing children, and it carves a place between his bones, between his ribcage and lungs. He longs to reach out and grasp at their skin, at their hands and pull them in; feel their bodies layered atop him, their weight. A coil of shame flares. There must be something wrong with him, to want them both so much at the same time.
“I like your nose ring,” Sirius eventually says.
“Me too,” James adds.
Remus laughs and fiddles with the gold hoop he remembered to hook through his left nostril that morning. “You’re both so strange,” he murmurs.
James and Sirius both chuckle, layered with their breaths, and don’t respond.
Later, after they have drenched themselves with the salty ocean, muscles used and tired, they lay back onto the sand. Sirius sprawls out, head resting on Remus’ thigh, wet tendrils plastering to the sensitive skin and making his breath hitch. Remus lets his fingers brush across Sirius’ forehead and into the hair plastered to his scalp, lets them rest at his shoulder. He turns his head to James watching them, gnawing on his thick bottom lip and Remus smiles, nods his head at his body.
James hesitates, gaze flickering from Sirius to him, before shifting and resting his head on Remus’ stomach, rising and falling with his shallow breaths. Remus swipes a thumb across the stubble at James’ jaw and lets his hand rest on his chest, thumbing at the water sluicing across his skin. Remus tries to think about anything other than his mouth on James’ skin, licking at the water. It would taste like salt and sunscreen and perhaps mingle with that woodsy scent ever present around James.
They lie there; quiet, with steady breaths, skin sticky from sunscreen and pasting them together. The sun dries the water from their skin and hair, and Remus eventually tangles his fingers into the strands. James’ is courser, his fingers lost amongst the curls, while Sirius’ slips like silk through his fingers, occasionally catching on knots. Remus closes his eyes and dozes with his fingers buried in their hair, just gripping now.
He wants them, wants them, wants them.