The Moon and his Star

by missswiftloveswolfstar

Summary:

“What?” Remus said, finally turning to look at him and leaning in close. “You jealous?” he breathed in Sirius’ ear. Sirius fought the incomprehensible urge to shudder.

“Jealous of what?” he asked, staring fixedly at a small chandelier that hung from the ceiling. One of its bulbs was flickering, and he latched onto it as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

“You tell me,” Remus said, leaning back at last and giving him the space to breathe again.

Sirius turned his head slowly to find Remus looking at him, a smirk dancing across his face.

But then, “Relax mate, I’m just messing with you,” Remus said, clapping him on the back before pushing out his chair and sloping off to Madam Pince, finished with his book.

Sirius was left there floundering for a moment. Was he jealous? Sirius? He almost laughed.

What did that scrawny, little year four have on him that he should be jealous of? As if.

OR

The Marauders during their later years at Hogwarts :)
Sirius is oblivious and in denial. Remus is confused.

Notes:

• Inspired by All the Young Dudes by MsKingBean89

Inspired by atyd and Rollercoasterwords' Sirius' Perspective, plus a touch of coptp
**I do not condone jkr’s “beliefs”!! she is a horrible person**

I am currently trying to edit the beginning chapters as I feel like my writing style’s changed a lot since then so bear with me por favor.

Chapter 1: you kissed a girl and you liked it??

Half past midnight and the party was in full swing. Sirius didn’t think the common room had ever been so packed. Just having finished a large bottle of firewhisky, his mind was a blur, and his inhibitions were slowly slipping away. Soon enough, he found his eyes wandering over to the record player by the window where they settled on Moony.

Not surprising. After all, the music was unmatched. What he did not expect, however, was to find Remus already returning the look. He felt his face flush and he shook his head, turning away. He focused his gaze intently on the drink in his hand, refusing to look back over.

“Everyone gather round,” James called out to some of the other 5th years by the fire. “It’s time for a little round of truth or dare.”

“Bloody hell, James,” Sirius said. “What are we, 12?”

James grinned maniacally and Mary plopped down on the nearby armchair, saying “Don’t be a downer, Sirius. Everyone loves truth or dare. It’s about time we spill all our secrets I’d say.”

Sirius swallowed. Lily and Marlene came over, dragging Remus with them, who sat down on the couch opposite Sirius. Emmeline Vance, Peter, Dorcas Meadows, and several others eagerly joined them, filling the remaining chairs and settling down on the thick, wool carpet in front of the fire.

“I’ll go first,” said Mary, excitedly.

Sirius couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Bit overconfident aren’t we?”

“No reason not to be,” she smirked at him. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”

Mary proceeded to go into specific detail about the most creative place she’d shagged someone (The Three Broomsticks bathroom), Emmeline gave Peter a lap dance (Peter blushed the entire time), James gave a rambunctious performance of Mamma Mia, though he of course didn’t know any of the words, and Dorcas Meadows confessed that she used to fancy the Bloody Baron. Then it came to Remus’ turn. He chose dare, unsurprisingly. Ever the mystery man.

“I dare you…” said Meadows. “To do a striptease on the table, to any song of your choosing.” Remus visibly tensed and Sirius’ heart clenched painfully in his chest as he thought of his scars.

“Uh, can I do truth instead?”

The idiot girl sighed impatiently, “Cmon, you picked dare!” she insisted. James grimaced, looking sideways at him.

“Oi,” Sirius jumped up. “Let him switch. It’s a stupid game anyways.”

“Alright, alright. But you have to answer this then.” she said. “Don’t worry,” she added in response to the look on Remus’ face. “It’s an easy one. Okay, how many people have you snogged?”

Peter snorted, “He hasn’t kissed anyone, have you Moony.” James shot him a hard look.

Remus shifted, uncomfortably. Sirius could tell he was trying to act casual. There was a brief pause.

“One,” he replied. Midway to grabbing his drink from the side table, Sirius whipped his head around. Their eyes met for an instant and Sirius frowned, but Remus’ gaze moved along, cool and unbothered.

“Who, Remus?” asked Mary, almost splashing her drink in her enthusiasm. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us!”

Remus shrugged, nonchalantly. “The summers are long. I’m not always alone you know.” He smirked, sinking back further into the couch.

James clapped him, approvingly, on the shoulder. “Nice one, Moony.”

Sirius couldn’t believe he wasn’t bothered. How dare Remus not say anything. Sirius always told the other Marauders about the girls he got with.

He tried to picture Moony kissing someone. What did she look like? Who kissed who first? Did he run his hands through her hair? Did he like kissing her?

Probably. Moony was even more normal than he’d thought. Sirius got up, putting on a fake smile and shaking his head at James who was currently laughing at one of his own jokes. He filled his drink up to the brim and tipped it back, relishing in the bitter taste in his mouth and the burning sensation that slid down his throat.

He could feel Remus’ eyes on him, probably wondering what his problem was. It wasn’t like sharing mattered in friendships.

“Hey Sirius,” called Marlene, with a giggle. “It’s your turn.”

He stumbled back over and sat down, nearly tripping on Lily on his way.

“Graceful,” Moony remarked, eyes still on him.

Sirius winked. “Bring it on,” he slurred, swinging an arm up behind Marlene on the couch.

She turned to him, cheeks rosy, and exclaimed giddily, “Truth or Dare.”

“Dare, of course,” he replied, basking in the feeling of everyone’s eyes on him.

“Okay, one moment.” She held up her finger, indicating for him to wait, and began chugging the remainder of her drink, a sort of fizzy, yellowish concoction in a bottle. Once she was done, she hiccuped slightly, saying, “I dare you to spin the bottle.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Lily abruptly burst out laughing. “Oh, you purebloods are so boring!” she said, between fits of giggles. “Just spin the bottle, like Marls said, and kiss whoever it lands on.”

“You muggleborns really get creative don’t you.” Sirius shook his head. “Alright, but don’t be surprised if it lands on you and you end up falling madly in love with me. I am an excellent kisser, I’ll have you know.”

“Kidding,” he added, at the horrified look on James’ face.

Marlene flicked the bottle with her wand, sending it spinning into the air between them all.

Sirius watched as the bottle turned round and round, until it slowed, stopping right in front of…Remus.

Sirius’ heart leaped into his throat and the room suddenly felt 20 degrees warmer. Surely he wouldn’t have to kiss Remus. Right here. In front of everyone. That was not part of the game was it? They knew he wasn’t- well, that he wasn’t one of that sort.

“Spin again, yeah”? He asked, attempting a steady voice. He felt his face already betraying him. Not that he was a queer. It would just be really weird to kiss his friend. To kiss Moony.

He avoided Remus’ gaze and turned to Marlene again.

She bit her lip, a frown creasing her face. “Um, well…we usually play just us girls. As a joke, I mean.”

Remus was glaring at Marlene. Of course. Merlin, he must have been disgusted. Sirius looked to James, who shrugged uncomfortably.

“I say stop being weird and just kiss already,” Meadows said, matter of factly. “It’s the rules.”

”Yeah, kiss you idiots!” Mary yelled, and then had the audacity to whistle.

Sirius wanted to tell them both to go to hell. Remus ignored them.

“Uh, mate. No offense,” he said to Sirius, laughing awkwardly. “But I think I might be sick. I drank way too much.” He pressed a hand to his mouth, standing up, and ran off up the stairs.

“Well,” Mary chuckled. “I can’t tell if he’s actually sick or just-”

“Oh bugger off. He wishes.” Sirius managed, taking a long swig of his drink.

The game continued, and Sirius pretended to watch, but he was quite dizzy. He whooped and hollered as the others did several ridiculous dares and told the most bizarre stories. As the game started to die down, he lost all ability to form a coherent thought, and before he knew it, he was rushing up the stairs and throwing himself down on the cold, stone floor to empty the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

Chapter 2: mad acting skills

Summary:

Sirius acts natural

Notes:

tehehe i love wolfstar
ALSO a couple of the beginning chapters are short so bear w me they get longer i promise!!

Sirius awoke the next morning to the rooster. Or some would call it James Potter.

“Up and at ‘em,” he called cheerfully, abruptly swinging back Sirius’ curtains.

Sirius groaned in response.

“Come on, Pete and Moony are already down at breakfast.”

Sirius groaned again. “Maybe tomorrow.”

****

Despite Sirius’ best efforts to resist, James succeeded in dragging him to the Great Hall—like he did every other day. Although he had sworn he wouldn’t, he did feel a bit better after eating, apart from a dull ache lingering in his head.

Moony was already gone, which was to be expected; it was a known fact that the library called to him in his dreams, like a long lost love. Sirius was certain that if he peaked through Remus’ bed curtains at night, he’d find him calling right back. 

Still, he couldn’t help but think about the evening before. Maybe Moony really had been ill, maybe he’d been hit by a sudden, unignorable wave of nausea. But that didn’t erase the unmistakeable look of horror in his eyes as the bottle had landed on him. The repulsion. Sirius couldn’t seem to shake the image from his mind.

Even after he and James had parted ways (the other boy was headed for the Quidditch pitch, the lunatic) Sirius trudged back up to Gryffindor Tower, his stomach twisting. The longer he thought about it, the greater his unease became. By the time Sirius reached the common room, he’d convinced himself Remus was avoiding him.

He supposed he would just have to avoid him back.

Expecting the dormitory to be empty, Sirius pushed the door open with a sigh, resigning himself to a long afternoon with nothing but his overactive thoughts for company. Instead, he stopped in his tracks when he found Moony, lounging on his bed with a book.

“Oh,” Remus looked up, startled. “Hey.”

“Surprised you’re not in the library, like the swot you are,” Sirius replied, as a greeting.

“Nah, wasn’t in the mood,” Remus said, saving his page with a torn piece of parchment.

“Bloody hell, what have you done with our Moony?” Sirius asked. Pushing his worries to the back of his mind, he settled down on his own bed.

Remus rolled his eyes. “Killed him.”

A sudden burst of energy hit Sirius and he sat up abruptly, clutching his heart. “Am I going to have to come over there and defend his honour?”

“I don’t know? How would you accomplish that?” Remus smirked.

Forgetting the promise he’d made to himself only minutes before, Sirius marched across the room, stopping in front of the taller boy’s bed.

“By getting revenge. Kicking some arse. Who knows?” he shrugged and swung a slow-motion punch Remus’ way.

Quickly, Remus reached up, fingers closing around Sirius’ arm. “Good luck with that. I’m the one who knows how to throw a punch.”

“I’ll have you know, I could punch you if I wanted to.”

“Could you?”

“Yeah.”

Remus let his arm drop, fingers brushing his skin lightly as he let go. A shiver passed through Sirius. He swore he had closed the window.

Leaning back, Remus cleared his throat.

Right, yes. Don’t make him feel awkward, Sirius thought.

Moony hated being in close proximity to others. He always kept a bit of a distance from Sirius—subtle, but enough that he noticed.

“Hey, have you seen my textbook?” Sirius said quickly, pretending to check the end of the bed for it.

Remus frowned. “Which one?”

“Arithmancy?” He said it like a question.

Remus shot him an amused smile. “You mean the one on your shelf there?”

Ah.

Cringing internally, Sirius turned away. “Oh. Right. My bad.”

He was going to have to do a much better job at the whole act natural thing.

Chapter 3: massive heterosexual

Summary:

Remus overhears a conversation.

And if I’m dead to you, why are you at the wake?

Cursing my name

Wishing I stayed

Look at how my tears ricochet

~Taylor Swift (my tears ricochet)

 

The month of October passed quickly, what with all of the work they had. It seemed to accumulate ten times faster than the previous year and Remus had hardly a minute to spare—which he was mostly glad of. He liked having little time for his own thoughts. And he liked the puzzle of trying to work a problem out; he could revise for hours without stopping until he solved one.

One puzzle he wasn’t particularly fond of, however, was Sirius Black.

On second thought, Remus rephrased, it wasn’t that he wasn’t fond of Sirius. In fact, he was quite a bit too fond of him. But bloody hell, was he confusing. Hot and cold. Left and right. Remus wasn’t sure which way was up with him.

This was only made worse one particularly cool, Sunday evening when the Marauders were performing a castlewide prank on good, old Filch. Like many of their pranks, it involved a great deal of dumb bombs—sometimes simple and effective was all that was needed.

Remus was currently attempting to cover the third floor when he heard the echoing of what was unmistakably Professor Dumbledore’s heeled boots approaching down the stone hallway.

He quickly ducked behind a tapestry, dashed silently down the passage, and stopped with his hand against the wall, panting, next to what he knew to be the second entrance to the charms classroom.

He immediately stood up straight as he heard familiar voices, echoing from inside, accompanied by the distinct Black smell.

“Just let me help get you out, Reg, please.”

A loud scoff came from the other boy as he said between gritted teeth, “I don’t want to leave.”

Remus tried to walk out of earshot, respecting Sirius’ privacy, but he couldn’t get far enough without leaving his hiding place.

Regulus’ voice came again, ice lacing his words. “As if I would go with you. Do you know what mother says about you, Sirius?”

Sirius remained silent.

“She says that you’re tainted. Impure. She goes on and on about it.” Remus’ hands clenched into fists at his sides. He could feel a deep, burning rage curling its way up his veins.

“You’re not fooling anyone, you know, with all of those mudblood girls you keep around.” Regulus paused, “Well, I suppose your blood traitor friends. I don’t see them hanging around you much longer if this gets out.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sirius’ voice finally came, quiet and low.

Regulus laughed, and footsteps sounded towards the far door. “You disgust me,” Regulus spat.

“You didn’t answer my question, why are you following me?” Sirius asked coldly.

“It doesn’t matter. It won’t happen again.”

The door creaked open, and slammed shut, leaving only silence behind. Remus was left grappling between confusion, guilt, and anger, trying to find any second, possible explanation for what he had just heard.

****

When Remus met up with the others back in Gryffindor tour, Sirius had not returned. Remus waited anxiously. He paced in the bathroom as he brushed his teeth, he organised his bookshelf, he put both feet in the same leg of his pyjama bottoms as he dressed. When he finally lay down to read, he couldn’t absorb a single word on the page. He had no space for any extra thoughts.

What in the bloody hell was Regulus on about?

Surely he wasn’t—surely he hadn’t been talking about what Remus thought he’d been talking about.

Because Sirius was not queer. He just wasn’t.

Sure, sometimes they talked about things that Pete and James would never understand, their obsession with Bowie being one. But lots of people loved Bowie. And lots of people were different from perfect James Potter.

Regardless of the fact that Sirius spent half his time snogging girls, he just—he couldn’t be.

That was not something Remus could afford to let himself believe.

And another thing too, how would Sirius’ family know if it were true? There was no way in hell that Sirius would let something like that slip to someone as terrifyingly cruel and prejudiced as Walpurga Black.

Remus winced at the memory of Sirius’s legs after returning to Hogwarts that September. He wished there was something he could do for him, but he didn’t have much to give in the first place. He couldn’t give him comfort or advice, Sirius always went to James for that, and he certainly couldn’t do something as drastic as offer him a new home like James actually had.

Yet, Remus knew that there was nothing anyone could truly do to fix it. A broken home was a broken home, and though Remus knew the Potters would try, they’d never be able to replace all that Sirius was missing.

****

When Sirius finally returned, they were already all in bed, unwinding after the long day of mischief. Remus could hear him approaching, painfully slowly, before he opened the door. James looked up as Sirius entered, “Hey mate, what kept you?” he asked, mildly.

Sirius shrugged, a neutral expression plastered on his face. “Almost got caught is all.” He made his way quickly to the bathroom and shut the door.

“What’s got his knickers in a twist?” Peter asked too loudly.

“Beats me,” James sighed, turning out his light. “Night lads.”

“Night,” they chorused back.

Sirius emerged, padding silently back over and sitting down on the edge of his four-poster. His shoulders were set in a stiff line as he undressed, and Remus ached to smooth it out.

Sirius paused as he reached for his curtain, looking up at him. “What?”

Remus started, realising he’d been staring quite obviously.

“Oh nothing, you alright mate?” he asked cautiously.

Sirius bristled. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” He pulled the curtains shut tight.

Notes:

Remus POV of atyd Sirius' perspective! This chapter is heavily influenced by Rollercoasterwords as I always liked to imagine that Remus had found out about Sirius and Regulus' conversation.

Chapter 4: i wish you were a girl

Sirius acted as calm and pleasant as he could manage the next few days, though this mainly consisted of glowering silence or abrupt outbursts and occasional fits of rage. He felt constantly on edge, and the more he tried to hide it, the worse it got. He neglected his schoolwork and yearned for isolation, but he knew it would only cause his friends to worry and ask questions.

He still had quidditch practice, of course. No excuse could avoid that. But once he was in the air it didn’t matter. The wind whipped through his hair and pulled all of the hurt thoughts from his head until a tentative smile turned into a grin and his family could no longer touch him.

After a particularly invigorating practice one sunny day before Sirius’ birthday, he and James left the showers and headed down to the lake to join Remus and Peter who were lounging at their usual spot by the base of a large tree.

“How’d it go?” Pete asked, ever the cheerleader.

James opened his mouth to speak, eyes alight with the memory and need to share every detail.

“Wait, spare me, don’t answer that,” Moony interjected from where he was sprawled out in the grass, an arm covering his face to block out the sun.

Sirius tutted as he sat down, a few feet over. “You know its no use Moonbeam.”

Remus lifted his head to glance in Sirius’ direction and raised an amused eyebrow. He was right of course, as James had already turned to Peter and launched into a lively retelling.

Sirius propped himself up on his side, facing Moony, and gave him a look that plainly said, told you so.

James’ and Peter’s voices faded quickly into the background as Remus laughed quietly, meeting his eyes. The sun illuminated their soft, brown colour in a golden light and Sirius found himself wishing he had eyes like Moony’s. Dull grey was nothing in comparison. Remus licked his lips and began twirling several blades of grass between his fingers.

“So,” Sirius began. “Tell me about that girl you snogged in the summer. It’s only fair, you know. I’ve told you everything.”

Remus blinked, looking startled. “Oh, that was… it’s nothing.”

“Oh really?” Sirius questioned. “Give yourself some credit Moony. Didn’t sound like nothing.”

Remus looked away and closed his eyes for a moment, his chest rising and falling slowly beneath his jumper. “We met this year and became friends really quickly. I didn’t expect it, but one day they just kissed me… and then we spent the rest of the summer together.”
He sighed, softly, looking as if he were very far away. Sirius tried not to feel the distance that seemed to be between them in that moment.

“Oi, Moony! Padfoot!” James called to get their attention.
Sirius rolled over.

“What’re you lads talking about?”

“Oh, nothing much. Just Remus’ first kiss,” Sirius grinned.

Peter gasped, dramatically. “Oh yes, I almost forgot about your big news!”

Remus groaned, “It’s not big news.”

“It’s the biggest news since Petey beat us in the Great Snogging Race,” said Sirius.

“Hey!” Peter objected.

“What? It’s true!” Sirius threw his hands up in protest.

“So what did she look like Moony?” James asked, running his hands over his hair, not so subtly making sure it still looked windswept.

Remus groaned again. “She didn’t look like anything.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning nothing,” Remus said, disgruntledly.

“Just tell us Moony!” Peter chirped.

“Fine, they’re blond, I don’t know. Happy?” Remus grabbed his current book from his bag, opening to the right page.

“Oh, so you’re into blondes?” Sirius asked, raising his eyebrows knowingly.

Remus rolled his eyes, looking back up from his book.“Not necessarily.”

“So who are you into?” asked Sirius, insistently. He was quite curious. Moony was such a private person. They had never been able to talk about this in regards to him before.

“I don’t know!” Remus exclaimed.

Peter giggled. “Okay, but if you had to decide…”

“Alright, alright. If I had to choose, I’d say long, dark hair. Tall ish. Likes the same music as me…”

“Interesting,” James pondered. “Guess we’ll have to keep an eye out for ya Moony.”

“Indeed,” said Remus, solemnly, looking like he could either laugh or punch someone.

Sirius chuckled, “Hey Moony, I’d be perfect for you if I were a girl.”

At the look on Remus’ face, he instantly regretted it. He always took jokes too far.

But Remus shot back, quickly, “Nah, the criteria includes can’t be a pain in the arse.”

Peter sniggered, and they all burst into laughter, Sirius loudest of all.

Chapter 5: pretty pretty boy

Summary:

a sweet, little bonding moment (over gayness, of course)

But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush
I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush
I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch
Everybody wants you
Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you
Walk past, quick brush
I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush
I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush
Everybody wants you
But I don't like a gold rush

- Taylor Swift

 

By the time Sirius’ birthday rolled around, Remus was sure he was very nearly losing his mind. He had been left overanalyzing every interaction the two of them had until his head was a jumbled mess of incoherent thoughts and his brain felt like it had been twisted into a pretzel. He was often seized with the overwhelming urge to grab Sirius by the shoulders, shake him, and scream, What are you thinking!?

Sirius, for his part, was of course clueless to this desire, and Remus could only hope that he wasn’t aware of the other desires coursing through him every time Sirius so much as glanced his way.

Although Sirius’ obliviousness seemed intact, Remus realised, the night of the party, that that was undoubtedly not the case for everyone else.

He had been enchanting the lights to illuminate the room in the Gryffindor colours when his attention had unavoidably drifted to Sirius, who was twirling around in front of James to get his approval on the most snug jeans Remus had ever seen.

Come on, is that really necessary, he thought furiously, as he flicked his wand carelessly at a nearby lamp. It did not have the intended effect, as the lamp did not simply illuminate a red and gold glow, but it shot out several vibrant sparks that he had to jump back to avoid. He outwardly groaned in frustration and shot daggers at the back of Sirius’ head.

Someone cleared their throat loudly next to him and he almost smacked himself at his stupidity. Hoping to play it off as some idiotic stunt, he turned around to find Marlene looking at him.

“Oh hey,” he said, casually, smiling a little too wide.

“What’s got you so flustered?” she asked, lightly, her lips turning up ever so slightly at the corners.

Remus, who had not expected this from her, floundered as he tried to find words, desperately praying that the blush creeping steadily up his neck would not give him away.

“Uh… Mary?” he gestured over to where she was sitting, facing away, deep in a last-minute paper.

“Mary,” Marlene repeated, looking sceptical. Rightfully so.

“Yeah, can’t believe she’s writing an essay when she should be getting the party started.”

“Right. Well, careful with the rest of the lamps,” she smirked at him. “Wouldn’t want to blow a fuse… or whatever powers the lights here.”

“Will do,” Remus laughed, weakly.

****

The party started not much later and quickly gained momentum. Sirius situated himself by the portrait hole for a time and dragged Peter into ordering all those who entered to wish him a happy birthday. Not that they needed much reminding–he had always been the life of the party.

He soon grew tired of this endeavour, however, and joined Mary and Marlene who were dancing near the record player amidst a large group of people.

As things got even more rowdy, Remus paused for a moment as he considered, and then, admitting defeat, he grabbed the record that was sure to make every girl in the room scream. ABBA was not to Remus’ taste, to say the least, but he knew that Sirius secretly loved them and who was he to deprive him of such joy on his birthday?

As the first song came on, Remus watched as Sirius’ face lit up, and “begrudgingly” started singing along with Mary when she grabbed his hands. Remus could feel the alcohol from his drink spreading through his limbs and a small laugh left his lips for no good reason. Sirius looked up to where he stood and called out over the music, “Moony, come dance!”

Remus shook his head, smiling. “You know I can’t dance!”

“Oh yes you can, I’ve seen it!” Sirius replied as he spun both girls around, one in each hand.

“Come on, Remus!” Mary said. “Sirius can’t dance with both of us the whole night.”

“Exactly, won’t you save me Moony?” Sirius whined. “I can’t handle all of these girls on my own.”

Rolling his eyes, Remus stepped away from the record player and made his way over. He felt vaguely aware of Marlene watching him, and he kept his gaze fixed on Mary, and nowhere near the inch of skin that had just become slightly visible below Sirius’ shirt, or those fucking jeans.

As they continued to dance, however, Remus noticed Marlene’s attention shifting as well. He tried to follow her line of sight only to see two girls entering through the portrait hole, Dorcas Meadows and a very blonde-looking girl Remus thought might be in Ravenclaw. He turned back to Marlene and watched as she started twirling several strands of hair between her fingers.

Were they friends? He knew they had been at some of the other parties the Marauders had thrown, but he wasn’t quite sure of the connection. Marlene continued to stare at Dorcas with such intensity that Remus could not put down his curiosity. He nudged her out of her trance and she startled, looking up at him with wide eyes. He leaned down to speak into her ear so she could hear him, and said, “Hey, what’s the deal with you and Dorcas?”

“Me and Dorcas? There’s- what, what do you mean?” she stammered, and despite the dim lighting, Remus clearly saw her face turn as bright red as a tomato.

Something clicked in his brain, and Remus’ mouth fell open in shock. They stared at each other, so much understanding, pain, and acceptance being silently shared between them.

Finally, Remus spoke, “You?” he asked, trying to contain his excitement.

“You!” Marlene replied, grinning from ear to ear. Remus realized he was grinning too.

He couldn't help it, he knew they both weren’t huggers but he did it anyway, and pulled her in. She returned the gesture, squeezing him so tightly it surprised him - he often forgot how strong she was from being on the quidditch team.

She pulled back, eyes gleaming, and said, “Do you want to go somewhere quieter and talk?”

And so they left the crowd, both forgetting their previous fixations of the night, each wrapped up in the fact that they weren’t alone.

****

“Tell me everything,” Marlene exclaimed, as soon as they reached the boys’ dorm.

“Oh God, where do I start?” Remus responded, smiling. He sat down cross-legged on his bed, and Marlene joined him at the end of it. The music was now a faint pulsing in the background.

“When did–when did you know?” she asked, quickly, nervous all of a sudden.

“Ah, well… okay, you know how I snogged someone this summer?”

She gasped, sitting up straighter. “Oh!” she paused, her features creasing in concern. “Oh, Remus, I’m sorry.”

“What about?”

“Just–oh everyone was asking about it. About the girl.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, wistfully. “If only it were.” She grabbed his hand, her own so very soft and gentle, and squeezed it once.
He smiled again at her appreciatively, and said, “So what about you?”

She shook her head, a faint pink tinting her cheeks again. “Oh, you know, just the same girl I was not very subtly watching downstairs. Fourth year. We were paired up in potions.”
She swept her arm dramatically through the air, “And the rest is history. Well, not that there is anything more to the story.”

“Do you think there could be?”

She sighed, a far-off look appearing in her eyes, “No, I wouldn’t be that lucky.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Remus said. “I could see it.”

She giggled, helplessly, covering her face with her hands. “Don’t. You’ll only make it worse.” She peered up at him, a devilish smile emerging on her face and he braced himself, knowing it was his turn to blush. “So… are we gonna talk about it? You and Mr. Black?”

“Bloody hell, no,” he said, turning his face away.

She leaned forward, forcing him to look her in the eye. “Are you sure? Cause I bet you’re desperate to tell me every little detail.”

He sighed, heavily, “I suppose. Just - fuck, he is torturing me, Marls. Take one for the team and kill me now.”

“Oh Remus,” she shook her head. “You’re down bad, aren’t you?”

“...No.”

“You so are.”

“Not.”

“Are too.”

****

Sirius was having a hell of a birthday. All his favourite people in one room, laughing, drinking, listening to Moony’s music. James was off making a fool of himself in front of Lily, and Peter and Desdemona were curled up by the fire, like the boring couple they were. Sirius didn’t mind though, he had Mary, Marlene, and Remus to keep him company.

He continued to spin Mary around in circles until they were both dizzy and laughing. It was partially the drink, and partially the silliness of it all, but everything seemed funnier at times like these.

He caught sight of Marlene and Moony, dancing together, and he grinned. He had been right, of course. Remus was an incredible dancer, once he got up the courage. There was something about the way Moony moved his hips that was so effortless and hypnotizing. Sirius had only ever been taught how to ballroom dance, though he suspected Remus had never had dancing lessons of any sort.

Just then, Remus leaned his tall frame down to match Marlene's height and said something in her ear. When he pulled back, they gazed into each other’s eyes. They seemed drawn together, and Sirius had to look away–he felt as if he were intruding on something.

Out of the corner of his eye, as he took a swig from his drink, he saw Remus pull Marlene against him, arms wrapping tight around her.

He stared down at his drink, trying to remember what he had been laughing about before.

“Time for another?” Mary asked, eyes bright, glancing at the empty cup in his hand.

“Yeah, yeah sure,” he replied. She pulled him along to the table in the corner and topped up both their drinks. He added a little bit of something stronger as well.

“Good thinking,” Mary smirked at him.

By the time they made their way back into the crowd, Remus and Marlene were gone.

Notes:

hi, it's been a while!
uni has been hectic but we’re back x

Chapter 6: jealousy jealousy

Summary:

Sirius starts a row with poor Moony.

The night continued on and Sirius continued to party like there was no tomorrow. James had returned from his pining after Lily had threatened to dye his hair bright green—though he insisted he wouldn’t have minded—and he and Sirius had started up their entertaining roles once again. They belted out an entire performance of bohemian rhapsody before Mary and Peter came bursting into the common room with Sirius’ cake.

The elves had put some of their best work into it. It included multiple tiers of chocolate, iced on top with the words, ‘Happy Birthday Padfoot’ written in pink lettering.

“Where’s Remus and Marlene,” Mary asked, as she began lighting the sixteen candles with her wand.

Sirius rolled his eyes and shrugged, “How should I know?”

“Ooh,” sang Lily, as she came to join them by the table. “They snuck off did they?”

Mary raised her eyebrows suggestively and smirked back at her.

“No way, Moony does not fancy Marlene.” Sirius insisted, glaring down at the decadent cake.

“I don’t know, they’re really close, aren’t they. There’s gotta be something there.” Mary said, as she finished with the candles.

“Well, you and I are really close and we don’t secretly fancy each other.”

“No, we did date in fourth year though.”

“Yeah, for like a week.”

Mary tsked her tongue, “Technicalities, Black. Anyways, your candles are burning. Go find Marlupin so they can sing you happy birthday with us.”

Sirius gave her an incredulous look. “Marlupin?”

“What, do you think Remlene is better?”

He barked out a laugh and side-stepped the two girls, practically running to the stairwell. He supposed it was irrational, the desperate, twisting feeling he felt in his stomach, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He had to stop whatever they were doing. It wasn’t right. They didn’t fit together. Sirius knew how complicated and back-and-forth girls could be, especially girls you were friends with. He needed to save Remus from whatever mess he’d inevitably get himself into.

He took the stairs two at a time, coming to an abrupt halt right outside the door. He paused to listen, hearing a quiet murmuring coming from inside, before realising that Moony had probably heard him coming. Those damn werewolf senses.
Shaking his head, he grabbed the handle and burst through the door.

He found them both sitting on Remus’ bed, with their heads bent close together. At the sound of the door, they both jumped and looked up.

“Oh hey, Padfoot,” Remus said, scratching the back of his neck. “What’s up?”

“Er… cake is here. They thought you guys would wanna come join.”

“Oh yeah, of course. Sorry, we didn’t mean to leave your party,” Remus replied.

Marlene began tapping her foot as she glanced between them.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Clearly it wasn’t a very entertaining party.”

“What? Of course it is. We were just-” he hesitated. “Just catching up somewhere quieter for a bit.”

“Yeah mate, I get it,” Sirius winked.

“Oh piss off, we’re just friends, Sirius.” Remus looked exasperated now.

“Yeah, whatever Moony. Look, it’s great and all, but if you and Marlene are hooking up, I’d rather you do it somewhere more discreet so I dont walk in on it, thanks.”

Remus stood up, his eyes flashing. Yes, this is exactly what Sirius wanted. Look at me, he thought. If it took fighting to make that happen, he would do it.

“Okay…I think I’m gonna go,” Marlene said, cautiously, before shooting Sirius a glare and scurrying out the door.

Remus turned back to face Sirius. “Marlene and I are allowed to hangout wherever we want,” he said, his voice low. “Whatever it is you’re trying to accomplish, just give it up already because I don’t wanna hear it.”

Sirius wanted to punch something, but before he could open his mouth to retort, Remus spoke again, his voice rising with every word. “And like you can talk. I’ve had to walk in on you more times than I can count.”

“Yeah, well that’s different!”

“How the fuck is it different!?”

“It just is! You don’t want to date your friends. It’s too complicated. Someone’s bound to get hurt.”

“Yeah, well lucky for us, we’re not dating,” Remus shot back. “And I will date whoever I want, thank you very much.”

“Fine, be that way. I just wish you trusted me enough to want to tell me things,” Sirius shouted, hating how childish he sounded, but inexplicably unable to stop.

Remus paused, an unintelligible look passing over his face. He stepped forward, leaving Sirius cornered by the door.

“So that’s what this is about?” he asked, frowning.

“No!”

“What more is there to say? You know more of my secrets than anyone!” Remus said, bringing his hands up to fist in his hair in frustration.

“Okay,” Sirius said, heart pounding in his ears. “What about that girl then? From the summer. Why didn’t you tell us about it?”

Remus groaned. “Why should you care? It’s not a big deal!”

Sirius was a foolish, foolish boy. He had always felt that he cared more about people than they did him.

“It was just an example. I’m your friend. I just want you to know you can trust me.” He looked down. He couldn’t bear the intensity of Remus’ eyes.

“I do trust you, Sirius,” Remus said, quietly.

Sirius looked back up at him, and his breath caught in his throat at the earnest expression on the other boy’s face. He was so so tall.

“Okay, I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

Remus nodded, “It’s fine.” This time he looked away, stumbling back quickly. “Merlin, I think I need to cool it on the alcohol.”

“I think we both do,” Sirius laughed, breathily. “C’mon let’s get downstairs. The others must be waiting.”

“Right,” Remus said, before following a few paces behind him as he made for the stairway.

Notes:

happy new year everyone!! getting back into writing this january

Chapter 7: swimming lessons could save your life

Summary:

Remus avoids Sirius, Sirius continues to lack self awareness.

As Christmas rapidly approached, Remus spent close to no time with the rest of the Marauders. This was, of course, due to the heavy workload and study groups he was leading, and not at all to do with the fact that he was outright avoiding Sirius.

He had decided that the only way to tame the ever present need he had to be as close to Sirius as humanly possible was to be as far from Sirius as humanly possible.

And it worked—to some extent—until he entered the room, or came up in conversation, or Remus was reminded of him in some way, which happened quite frequently.

He tried to make the avoiding subtle, which proved to not be too hard (he hoped) as he actually was very busy. But sometimes he couldn’t afford such precautions. For instance, one Friday at dinner, Sirius showed up sporting black painted nails.

“Don’t ya like ‘em?” he said, nonchalantly, when James had pointed them out as he spooned himself some mashed potatoes. “Mary painted them during free period.”

“Yeah, they’re uh lovely,” James said, smiling supportively.

Sirius then turned to Remus, flashing him a dazzling smile. “Moons, what do you think? Tell me they look pretty.”

“Very nice, Pads,” Remus replied, watching as he delicately sprinkled some salt onto his meal.

In truth, it was the sexiest thing Remus had ever seen. He imagined taking Sirius’ hand, lacing their fingers together. He would tuck back the long piece of black hair falling into his face so that he could whisper in his ear, ‘you’ll never know how beautiful you are to me.’

Fucking hell. If Grant were here he’d tell him to get a grip.

He promptly got up, muttering a pathetic excuse about extra credit homework for Flitwick as he grabbed his bag.

He just needed to persevere, he told himself. It would all be over soon if he could just have the strength to get through the first few weeks of his cleanse of all things Sirius.

So when James asked him part-way into December if he wanted to join the two of them for the holidays at the Potters’, Remus was hesitant. He had had somewhat moderate hopes of extinguishing his feelings by then, but three weeks had passed and he had not been rewarded for his efforts.

If anything, it had done the opposite. Sirius was becoming harder to get rid of for one. He had begun asking to join his study sessions and accompanying him on his way to classes, regardless of whether they shared the class or not.

“If you’re going to be such a swot, I clearly have no choice,” Sirius had said, when Remus tried to object as he caught him walking out of his Ancient Runes class one afternoon.

And he missed him. God, he missed him. He missed James and Pete too. He didn’t want to be alone on Christmas, not when he had finally been given permission to leave the school.

The full moon had fallen on the 6th, and they would return to classes just before the next moon in January so nothing had to be arranged in that sense.

So against all judgement, Remus let himself have this. He deserved it, didn’t he? A happy Christmas surrounded by friends who cared about him, a real family. He hated to intrude, but they’d invited him, hadn’t they? He could always hide away in the guest room if he sensed they wanted some time just as a family.

When the last day finally came and they had all packed their bags, he met Marlene by the portrait hole and they made their way down to the carriages together.

“You happy to be going home?” Remus asked her, as they walked.

“Yeah, I think so. I’ve missed my family, for sure. And I’ll get to see my cousins so that’ll be fun.” She sighed, and he glanced at her in question.

“But?”

“Just- I don’t know, they’re always asking if I’ve found a boyfriend yet, and I always have to disappoint them. They’re really religious, you know, so…”

“Yeah,” Remus said, his heart sinking. Marlene didn’t deserve this. No one did. “I’m really sorry, Marls. It’s so unfair.”

She looked at him, a fierce expression on her face. “It really really is.” She took his arm, “I have you though.”

“And I have you,” he said, smiling softly at her.

They continued in silence for a few moments before she spoke again, “So, how’s avoiding Sirius going?”

He stopped abruptly, unintentionally jerking her back by the arm. “Noticed that, did you?”

“Obviously,” she said, pulling him along again. “It’s me. The others just think you’re busy though, don’t worry.”

He gave an exasperated sigh and said, “I know it’s stupid, but I had to do something.”

“I understand. Totally. I just hope he doesn’t notice or he might think he’s done something wrong.”

“He has done something wrong: look too good.”

Marlene burst out laughing.

****

Upon arriving at the carriages, Sirius, James, and Peter met up with Mary and Lily, who were coming back from an early morning walk around the lake.

“Hey lads,” Mary called, smiling brightly.

“Hey, care to join us?” James asked, opening one of the carriage doors and offering a hand.

“Why thank you,” Mary said, taking his hand and putting her foot on the step. “Such a gentleman, this one.”

“Anything for my favourite ladies,” James replied, looking pleased.

Lily climbed up next, ignoring his hand, but offering a smile in return.

‘Progress,’ James mouthed at Sirius, a cheeky expression on his face.

Sirius shook his head at his best friend with a smile of his own, but his attention drifted as he noticed Marlene and Remus approaching another carriage further down. They were walking, arm in arm, laughing together.

Fucking hilarious, he thought, wondering what could possibly be so funny.

He had been growing more and more frustrated with Moony lately, though he had been trying to hide it.

First, he was quite sure Remus had lied right to his face about his relationship with Marlene. It was completely pointless as they had made no attempts in hiding how smitten they were with each other. He often saw them whispering in a corner of the common room, sometimes giggling away, other times looking more somber.

If he wasn’t with Marlene, Remus would go off somewhere else in the castle, and if questioned, would yell a quick “Got to revise!” over his shoulder as he left.

Remus had been avoiding him, Sirius was sure of it. But he hadn’t the faintest idea why.

When he had brought it up to James during one of their late-night chats, James had seemed surprised.

“Of course he’s not avoiding us, don’t stress Pads,” he had said. “He’s just really focused on his studies, like Lily. They’re always revising together.”

But James didn’t know. He couldn’t see the sudden lack of closeness between Sirius and Remus that used to be there, the talks they would have while passing a cigarette back and forth when no one else was around.

He was pulled out of his reverie by a slap on the back. “Hey, Pads, where’d you drift off to?”

“What-? Oh, nowhere. Just worried I forgot something,” Sirius replied.

“We’ll see Moony on the train, quit worrying!” James joked.

“I’m not,” Sirius protested as he followed him into the carriage, voice slightly higher than normal.

“If you say so!”

****

They found a compartment near the end of the train. As they settled in, Sirius did his best not to think about Remus and Marlene—tried not to wonder whether they would join them. He didn’t even know why Moony had bothered to come back to the Potter’s at all if he was that determined to stay away from him.

Despite his worries, however, it was only seconds after they had all taken their seats that the compartment door slid open again. Remus popped his head inside. “Space for two more in here?” he asked easily.

“Moony! Hell yeah, mate.” James grinned from his spot between Pete and Lily.

“Cheers.” Remus stepped through the door, Marlene just behind him. He did not look at Sirius.

Continuing his streak of avoidance, he made to sit next to Mary by the window. Before he could do so, Marlene grabbed his arm. “Hold on Remus, I told Mary we’d play cards.”

“Right, okay.”

Sirius shook his head as, without another option, Remus took the remaining seat next to him. Unfortunately, Marlene was busy digging through her bag and missed the longing look he was so clearly throwing her.

Tapping his foot impatiently, Sirius’ leg bumped against Remus'. Immediately, the other boy shifted back, as if he were carrying some contagious disease. Without meaning to, Sirius let out a loud scoff.

At that, Moony finally glanced up. Their eyes met for the first time in Sirius didn’t know how long.

“What?” Remus asked.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re thinking something.” Remus’ eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Just surprised to see you, is all. Reckoned you and Marlene would be getting cosy in a different compartment.”

The train had started to move, slowly picking up speed. Outside, a light rain was beginning to fall.

“You can’t be serious,” Remus said, sighing heavily.

“Oh, I’m always Sirius.”

That earned him more than one eye roll.

“Oh, come off it, mate,” James interjected, chuckling slightly. “Maybe we should all play a game. I’ve got exploding snap.” He withdrew the cards from his pocket.

Remus gave Sirius one last look, his expression unreadable. “Yeah, go on.”

“I want to play,” Peter said eagerly, from his corner seat.

James raised his eyebrows at Sirius. “You playing, Padfoot?”

With a final huff, Sirius relented, “Yeah, alright, deal me in.”

****

The trees soon gave way to the Scottish countryside and the rain began to come down more heavily. They played several rounds of exploding snap, the atmosphere growing lighter until the four boys were laughing and joking as usual.

Once the trolley had come ‘round and Sirius had had a sufficient amount of chocolate, he gave the last of his candy bar to Moony, unable to stay cross with him, before excusing himself to the loo.

He was just reaching for the bathroom door when he heard a voice from behind him. A very familiar voice.

“Sirius?” Regulus said, so quietly it was almost a whisper.

Sirius whipped his head around, glaring, about to snap, before he saw the expression on his face.

“Reg?” Sirius said it desperately. It hurt just to look at him, remembering all that his little brother had said a couple of months before.

I don’t see them hanging around you much longer if this gets out.

”Hi.”

Sirius let out a breath. For a moment they simply stood there in stunned silence.

“I still blame you. For everything.”

Gods.

He turned away, closing his eyes. He couldn’t look at him. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

He wasn’t even sure what they were talking about—if it was how he had left Reggie behind or how depraved they all thought he was. He supposed it applied either way.

Reg held out a hand, stopping him before he could walk away. “But, I-I understand. I’m not as perfect as you think I am.”

Sirius sucked in a shaky breath, stepping forward.

“Let me help—”

“No,” Regulus cut him off. “It’s too late for me now. I’m in this.”

“It’s not, I promise. I’ll get you out. I’ll do whatever I have to. Anything.” I never meant to abandon you. Reg had to know. Sirius tried to convey it all with those words, looking him right in the eyes.

“No,” he repeated. “You’re wrong this time, Sirius.” He glanced around. Faint voices could be heard, drifting out from nearby compartments, but the hallway was empty.

Regulus lifted his sleeve and all of the air was knocked out of Sirius’ lungs.

Ears ringing, he stared down at the mark inked into his brother’s arm. It was a skull, encircled by a snake, the very same that was used by the ‘dark lord’ and his followers when they wanted to make their presence known.

“Reg,” Sirius gasped. He realised he was gripping Regulus’ arm very tightly.

Regulus yanked it back, pulling down his sleeve. His expression had grown dark, and the coldness Sirius had become all too familiar with had crept back in.

“It’s done,” he said, in a low voice.

Sirius tried to breathe in, but he could only manage shallow breaths. He made to say something, but no sound came out.

By the time Sirius came back to himself, Regulus was gone.

Chapter 8: the king of ruminating

Summary:

Sirius deals with some feelings and Remus thinks about Sirius too much (surprise)

And I ended a friendship, on the day that I left

And though I really meant it, it still makes me upset

Am I losing my family, every minute I’m gone

What if my little brother, thinks my leaving was wrong

I’m so high, but can’t look down, left my past life on the ground

Think I’m more alive somehow, I feel like myself right now

~Gracie Abrams (Right Now)

 

Something was very wrong with Sirius. He didn’t speak the entire rest of the train ride after he returned to the compartment. Remus could see it in his face that this was beyond the usual fleeting anger or self-hatred. This was true, deep hurt, and Remus didn’t know what to do. He could tell James was worried too, he kept trying to include him in the conversation, but Sirius hardly seemed to notice. He simply stared down at his hands in his lap, remaining so still it was almost statue-like, the complete opposite of everything Sirius usually was.

When they arrived at the Potters, Sirius let Effie and Fleemont each pull him into a tight hug. He seemed to crumple into their embrace, and they both spent a while fawning over him. Effie smoothed back his hair and offered him a warm drink, but he just smiled a rather painful-looking smile and asked if he could have a rest before dinner.

They let him be for a while, and Remus and James sat with the Potters around the fire. Gully came around with mugs of peppermint tea as they talked briefly about school and quidditch. But Remus’ mind kept wandering to Sirius, and it wasn’t long before his patience wore out and he and James set off up the stairs to check on him.

“He’s not in here,” James said, after cautiously peeking inside the door to the room the two of them were sharing.

Remus heard a muffled sound, coming from the bathroom down the hall. “Hold on, I think I hear him.”

In several quick strides, he was at the door, knocking loudly with his fist. “Sirius, are you in there?”

“No,” came a muted reply.

James grabbed the doorknob and jiggled, but Sirius had locked it, the bastard. “Sirius, let us in. Whatever’s happened, you can tell us,” he said, in his soothing, Effie-imitation voice.

Silence.

James leaned his head against the wall, keeping his hand pressed to the door. “Padfoot, please. We want to help.”

Again, no response.

Remus couldn’t take it. “Sirius,” he said in a low voice. “Let me in.”

There was a long pause–in which Remus internally rolled his eyes at himself for thinking he could convince him–before they heard shuffling and then the click of the lock. Sirius' face appeared in the door, looking slightly red and puffy.

“Mate-” James started, reaching out, but Sirius pushed him back. Instead, he grabbed Remus' wrist, pulling him inside, and shutting the door again.

A warmth encircled his chest as Remus briefly thought back to the time at Hogwarts when this same thing had happened in their dorm and Sirius had asked for not James, but him.

The feeling passed quickly, however, as Remus looked over at Sirius, who had slumped back against the bathtub.
Remus settled himself onto the cool, tile floor across from him. It was one of the more modest bathrooms in the house and he had to tuck his legs in to keep them from bumping into Sirius’.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Sirius said. He picked at a string that had begun to fray on the cuff of his jeans.

“Fine,” Remus said, shrugging. “We’ll just sit here. I don’t mind.”

Sirius nodded, “Okay.”

****

They remained quiet for several minutes until Sirius eventually gave in. He needed to talk to someone and he knew that they would only have so long before James demanded they both come out.

Right now, though, he just wanted Moony.

“Remus,” he tried to say—it came as more of a croak.

“Yeah, Pads?”

Sirius paused, watching the other boy. A golden curl had fallen into his eyes and his lips were parted, waiting, a question in his eyes.

“Is it Regulus?” he asked.

Sirius let out a shaky breath, “Yeah. He-” Godric, he could barely say it. “He’s got the mark. The dark mark. He’s really one of them now.” His voice sounded funny even to his own ears.

Remus' eyes widened slightly, but otherwise, his expression remained neutral. “Fuck, I’m sorry Sirius.”

He shook his head, “It’s my fault.”

“No. It’s not,” Remus said, firmly, grabbing Sirius’ arm tightly. “You did what you had to do.”

“I’m his older brother though. I should have been looking out for him.”

“Sirius, you’re only one year older than him. You did the best you could with what you knew. And Regulus didn’t make it easy for you. He told you he wanted to stay, he wouldn’t let you help him. That’s not your fault.”

Remus was looking at him, really looking at him, his grip still tight on his arm, and Sirius desperately clung to his words.

“Is that really what you think?” he asked.

“It’s the only way to look at it.”

Sirius' vision blurred and he looked away, blinking quickly.

“And Sirius?”

He met his gaze again, “Yeah?”

“It’s okay to be angry, you know. I would be. They let you down. They really fucking let you down, every one of them.”

Remus’ words unlodged something in his chest and he allowed the anger to consume him for a moment.

The lightbulb over the sink shattered.

“Bugger,” Sirius swore. That hadn’t happened in a while.

Remus laughed quietly, and when Sirius met his eye it brought out a small laugh from him too. For a split second, it felt like nothing had changed between them.

Sirius let out a long breath, feeling some of the tension leave his body. How did Remus always know exactly what to say?

He shifted slightly, suddenly becoming very aware of their proximity. They were closer than they had been before, and Sirius had unconsciously leaned into Moony’s hand which was still resting on his arm. His thumb brushed once over the fabric of Sirius' sleeve in a comforting gesture and then withdrew, but not before Sirius felt a shiver of heat run down his spine.

Had James ever comforted him like that?

This is okay, right? he thought. This is normal.

Surely Remus would have pulled away if it weren’t.

“Moony?” Sirius asked, almost in a whisper.

“Hm?”

“Have you been avoiding me?”

Remus froze, “What? No. Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know, it just feels like we used to hang out more.”

Remus hesitated, a small crease appearing between his eyebrows. “We’ve just all been really busy, haven’t we? I mean, with OWLS and everything.” But it felt like he was acting, the way Remus said it, like there was something he didn’t want Sirius to know.

Did it not bother him? Did he just not care as much as Sirius did?

“Moony, do you have a secret?” Sirius asked, slowly, leaning in a bit closer so that he could carefully examine his expression.

“I always have secrets, you know that.” Remus’ voice was steady, but his eyes darted around, seemingly unsure where to look.

“Yeah, and this one I can’t figure out.”

“Well then don’t bother. Because you’re wrong.”

“Oh, but that just makes me want to know more.”

“There’s nothing to know. You’re imagining things.”

Sirius gave him a wounded look. “I thought you were supposed to be comforting me. Now you’re telling me I’m crazy?”

Remus tutted in a very Lily-like manner. “I’m not avoiding you.”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so.” Remus made to turn away.

“Hey, hey, hey, well if you’re so sure, then look me right in the eye and tell me.” He grabbed Remus’ face with both hands and turned him back toward him. “You’re avoiding eye contact, that’s very suspicious behaviour my dear Moony, and you know it.”

Remus didn’t say anything, just looked at him with wide eyes.

“Aha! You-” Sirius stopped short, words caught in his throat. What was he doing?

Moony had become very still between his fingers. He wanted to let go, but he felt trapped by the weight of Remus’ brown, brown eyes. His skin was so soft.

“Siriu-”

There came a loud banging on the door and they both jolted back as if they’d received an electric shock.

“Sirius, Remus, whatever you two are doing in there, it’s been long enough.”

Remus hopped up quickly to get the door. He fumbled slightly with the lock, but a second later it was open and James was standing there with his hands on his hips.

He took one look at them and said, “Have you been fighting?”

“No, why do you always think we’re fighting?” Sirius asked, getting up off the floor.

“You have your post-fight faces on.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, feeling unusually hot, “Post-fight faces?”

“Yeah, you know, where you’re all flustered and won’t look at each other.”

“Oh you’re so full of it, Potter,” Sirius said, shoving him.

James just shook his head. “So did you manage to get it out of him?” he asked Remus.

Remus just shrugged.

“Alright, we can talk about it later,” he said, turning to Sirius. “What matters is that you’re okay.”

Sirius felt another twist of anxiety in his stomach as he remembered why he had been upset. “Right, yeah, thanks Prongs.”

James just smiled. “Shall we?” he indicated to the stairs. “Gully said dinner’s ready.”

****

There was something about the Potter’s that brought out the best in you, that brought out the best in everyone. It was hard to focus on the bad when you were surrounded with such warmth.

The elegant dining room was filled with the sound of clinking cutlery and happy chatter as they ate.

Remus saw Sirius’ smile fade a couple of times, no doubt thinking of Reggie, but then Effie or Fleemont would turn to him smiling fondly and direct his attention somewhere else. Sirius lit up under their praise and their caring inquiries about his life. It broke Remus’ heart a little to watch.

On the other hand, whenever his and Sirius’ eyes would meet across the table, his heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest from how hard it was pounding.

He didn’t know what had happened in the bathroom earlier. He knew James and Sirius carelessly joked around like that all the time, but when Sirius had held his face in his hands, it had felt different. There had been a moment. Sirius had stopped, broken character from his jokester charade, and they had just looked at each other.

Although it could easily have all been in his head.

After all, he was the one with the big, embarrassing crush on his best friend. For all he knew, Sirius could have felt nothing, most definitely felt nothing in fact. Besides, Remus’ memory was warped by desire; he had been desperately trying to focus on not looking at Sirius’ mouth.

Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic was a continuous echo in his brain. He needed to stop letting his thoughts run away from him.

“Hey Moony, where’d you disappear to?” James’ voice pulled Remus from his reverie.

He startled, looking up to find them all staring at him. “What?”

“Remus, love, I just asked how you’re finding your classes this year. Are you still enjoying Care of Magical Creatures?” Effie said, leaning forwards.

“Oh. Yeah, sorry. It’s been great. We have a new Professor though, which is too bad.”

“Oh yes, I’m sorry to hear that. I remember how much you liked him.”

He nodded, wondering what she would think if she knew just how much he had liked Professor Ferox.

“Moony, or Sirius, could you pass the salt?” James asked from next to Remus.

Trying to make up for his lack of attention, Remus quickly reached out, making to grab for it, just as Sirius did the same thing. Their hands brushed for a mere instant and Remus jerked back, knocking the salt over.

“Sorry,” he mumbled to no one in particular.

“Clumsy, are we?” Sirius asked, a small smirk flitting across his face.

Remus ignored him, picking the shaker up and handing it to James.

He felt a light kick to his leg from under the table.

“Did you just kick me?” he asked Sirius, incredulous.

“Don’t be silly. I would never hurt our Moony,” Sirius responded, making a show of looking innocent.

“Yes, you did.”

“Now, now, this is outrageous.” He directed his next words at James, tossing his hair dramatically.

“James, would I ever hurt Moony?”

“Oh I’m sure you already have, as gentlemanly as you are,” James said, sarcastically.

Sirius pressed his hand to his chest, looking affronted. “You cannot mean that.”

“He’s right. My soul hurts every time I hear you speak,” Remus interjected. He was vaguely aware of Effie and Fleemont, watching on in amusement.

“How so?”

“Don’t ask me. There’s just something about your personality that doesn’t sit right with me.”

“How dare you. My dear Moony, you wound me.”

“What, would you rather me say it’s your looks?”

“Oh, well that would just be untrue!” Sirius scoffed.

“I don’t know. You just don’t do it for me, I guess. Sorry to disappoint.”

“Careful, Moony. I have feelings, you know.”
Remus just sipped his water, looking up at him through his eyelashes.

Oh if only he knew.

*****

The next day it snowed more than it had in a long time. It was cold enough that it stuck to the ground, and by lunch-time the world was covered in a thick blanket of white. Peter joined the three of them and they spent the entire afternoon outside, throwing snowballs at one another and making a small, rather ugly looking snowman.

Throughout it all, Sirius thought of Regulus. He thought back to a similar time when the snow had fallen and Reggie had been so excited that he had woken Sirius in the middle of the night.

They had snuck out under the light of the moon and tilted their faces up to the sky, catching snowflakes on their tongues. They didn’t have their winter robes—hadn’t wanted to risk grabbing them—but they didn’t care. Sirius and Regulus played out there in their pijamas until they were soaked to the bone and grinning like idiots.

Although they both caught a cold, it had been one of the rare nights in which they weren’t caught by Kreacher, and that in itself had felt like a victory.

Those days were all in the past, of course. Things had never been more different.

But they had both got what they wanted, Sirius told himself.

Regulus had their parents’ approval and acceptance. Sirius had his freedom.

It was everything he had hoped for and better than he could have imagined with the Potters. But somehow, he had always thought Reg would be there too.

Still, Sirius tried to let himself enjoy it. He didn’t want to take this for granted, the thing he had always dreamt of.

So he enjoyed it. He enjoyed it as James gave him an icy dunking of snow down his back, as Moony instructed them on how to make snow angels. He breathed it all in and let it permeate in his lungs and his heart, filling him up with too much joy.

But all the while thinking of his little brother.

Chapter 9: a river in egypt

Summary:

At the Potter's family gathering Sirius floats down a river in Egypt

On Christmas Eve, the Potters had around 30 people staying with them, causing the house to be much louder and more chaotic than usual. It turned out they had quite a large extended family and several of James’ cousins, aunties, and uncles were visiting from overseas. 

Unsurprisingly, they were all just as warm and friendly as James and his parents and everyone had greeted each other with much enthusiasm, giving tight hugs and kissing one another on the cheeks. A few younger cousins had immediately tackled James with shouts of “Jamie!” when they ran through the door, while another had gotten him to do a complicated handshake upon saying hello. 

James was the oldest, and it was clear they all worshipped him.

The busyness of the whole affair was enough to keep Sirius quite distracted from his problems for which he was grateful. They were even able to form full teams and play a couple rounds of quidditch. It was evident that the passion James had for the sport ran in the family as even the little ones were decently good on their brooms and the game turned somewhat rowdy as soon as the quaffle was released. 

Moony remained steadfast on the ground, but he watched them play, and when Sirius wasn’t swotting bludgers he would swoop down and try to fly as close to Remus as he could without hitting his friend. Moony either tried to ignore him or would lose his temper and yell profanities. It was a good job all of the younger kids were too focused on winning to notice.

Part-way through the second match, Effie called out the door to him and Remus disappeared into the house. 

Sirius watched him go, feeling a bit disappointed at having lost their audience. 

All of a sudden, a bludger came flying at him from across the field. Unprepared, he swung his bat quickly, sending it off in the wrong direction. 

“Oi, Padfoot! You’re losing your touch!” James called, cackling from over near the goalpost.

Cursing under his breath, Sirius flipped him off. His head was not in the game and he blamed Moony. He was just too much fun to taunt. 

They played for five minutes before Remus reemerged, hands wrapped around a mug. He was walking very slowly, hat nearly slipping off the back of his head, and a look of deep concentration on his face as he tried not to spill his drink. 

It was too tempting. 

Forgetting the game, he swooped down again, nearly knocking into Moony, and landed not so gracefully on the ground beside him.

“What the hell, Sirius! That’s the third time you’ve almost hit me,” Remus said, glaring at him as he sat back down in his chair. 

“Whoops, my bad,” Sirius grinned. He felt a bit giddy, though whether it was the holidays or quidditch or his success in annoying Moony, he wasn’t sure. 

“Prick,” said Remus. 

“You love it, though.”

Moony spluttered and shook his head. 

“So,” Sirius leaned forward to peer inside his cup. “Wachu drinking.”

“Hot cocoa.”

“‘Course you are. Have to get your sugar intake in for the day somehow, don’t you?”

“Piss off.”

“Fine, can I have a sip though?”

“Uhh,” Remus paused. “Get your own.”

“But I’m playing,” Sirius whined. “I just want one sip.”

Remus huffed. “Fine. One.”

He gingerly handed him the mug, making sure Sirius had a firm grip before he let go. 

Sirius took a large gulp, relishing in the sweet chocolatey flavour, before handing it back to the other boy. 

“That was not a sip,” Remus said. 

“Oh, pish posh,” Sirius said. “Thanks Moons, you’re the best.” 

Remus looked like he was about to say something, but then James yelled from up above, cutting him off. “Sirius Orion Black, stop letting Moony distract you. Your team’s about to lose and I won’t be able to brag about it.”

“Merlin’s arse! Don’t you think Moony needs some company from time to time?”

“Remus is fine,” James laughed. “If anything, he’d probably rather you leave him alone.”

“Nuh uh!”

“Uh huh!”

“Okay, get out of here, you idiot,” Remus said, pushing him away.

Sirius gave him one last look. “I am deeply offended,” he said, and then he pushed off the ground and was in the air again. 

****

After the Christmas Eve feast, the three of them helped tidy up in the kitchen. It wasn’t so bad, although Sirius felt it was slightly pointless that they had to do it when they were the ones who couldn’t use magic. 

“It’s the principal,” James was saying as he scrubbed the dishes and passed each one to Sirius to dry. “It builds character.” Sirius gave him a doubtful look. 

“What? It’s true. And besides, mum’s busy helping Gully prepare the beds.”

“Well, she’s already done too much for me,” Remus said from across the kitchen where he was wiping the counter. 

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Sirius frowned. He hadn’t meant to sound ungrateful. 

“I know, mate,” James assured him. 

“Boys,” they heard Effie call. A moment later, she came through the doorway, a bundle of sheets tucked between her arms. “I have a favour to ask you.”

“Yeah, mum?” James asked, drying his hands. 

“Would it be okay if Avi sleeps in your room, James, and then Remus can stay with you, Sirius?”

“Sure, no problem,” James responded. He turned to the others. “Fine with you guys?”

“‘Course. Anything for you darling mum,” Sirius said, smiling sweetly at Effie. 

Remus nodded in agreement. 

****

Shit. Bollocks. Buggering fucking hell.

Remus had gone from actively avoiding Sirius to sharing a bloody bed with him. 

It felt like the universe was laughing in his face. 

“Well, what are you waiting for? Get in,” Sirius said as he lay down. 

“Do you want the edge or the wall side,” Remus asked, hovering awkwardly at the foot of the bed. 

“You can have the wall if you want.”

“Okay.” He climbed up the mattress and slid carefully under the covers. Sirius clicked off the lamp beside him and the room fell into a soft darkness. 

Remus immediately turned to face the wall. “Night Sirius.”

“Right, uh… night Moony,” replied Sirius, quietly.

The bed wasn’t too small, probably a queen size, but it didn’t matter. Remus could still feel the heat radiating off Sirius and he was hyper-aware of every little movement he made. 

He had thought he had had it bad before, but this was a whole new level of torture. Godric, his pillow even smelt like him. 

Just when he had resigned himself to a long, sleepless night, Sirius's voice cut through the static of the room. 

“Remus?”

**** 

Maybe Sirius was used to sleepovers with James, but he couldn’t help feeling like Moony’s goodnight was a bit abrupt. They were supposed to chat about their days and plans for the future, their deep secrets and stuff like that, were they not?

Sirius was beginning to think he wouldn’t respond when Moony said, “Yeah?”

“I’m not tired yet, are you?”

“No, I’m not either.” Remus flipped onto his other side so he was facing Sirius. 

“Okay, well good, we can talk for a bit then.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” 

There was a faint light coming in through the curtain and Sirius was just able to make out Remus’ face in the dark.

“So, anything on your mind Moony?”

“No, not really.”

“Oh come on, there’s got to be something going on in that big brain of yours.”

“Nothing of importance,” Remus said, as he adjusted his position, leaning his cheek on one hand. 

“Well, that’s the whole point of sleepovers. You can talk about whatever unimportant things are on your mind.”

“What’s on your mind then?”

“I asked you first.”

“Fine, I was thinking about how “sleepovers,” as you say, are kind of weird—how this is weird.”

He hadn’t wanted to say so, but Sirius had been thinking that too. He didn’t know why, but it was different than sharing a bed with James. He felt more awkward and more aware of himself, of how he was lying in relation to how Moony was lying. 

“Yeah, I guess it is a bit weird,” he said, finding Remus’ eyes as his own adjusted more to the dark. “That’s normal though. It’s a favour to Effie anyway.”

Remus let out a soft exhale. “Yeah. Is it- weird with James too?” 

Something about the way he said it made Sirius' insides squirm a little. “Well, not really, but it’s James, you know? He’s like my brother.” 

“And we’re…?”

“We’re best mates for sure. But we’re definitely not brothers.”

“Right,” Remus said, although he still sounded slightly confused.

It made sense to Sirius. His feelings for James were completely of a brotherly nature. His feelings for Moony were something else entirely.

No, not like that. He rolled his eyes at himself for his poor choice of wording. 

Are you sure? said a very annoying and pointless voice in his head. 

Sometimes his brain didn’t know how to shut up; sometimes his brain thought things that weren’t even true. 

He sat up abruptly and punched his pillow into a better shape before flopping back down on his side. 

Things were different with Moony because he didn’t act the same way as James. He didn’t like hugs or people touching him or talking about his feelings, which was why Sirius thought about it a lot. Well, not a lot, but- it was why he dwelled on it longer than he should when Remus did touch him, like when he had comforted him in the bathroom.

Sirius was all of a sudden reminded of third year when he had been afraid his mother had come to the Potters to take him away, but it had turned out to be Andromeda. Moony had sensed his fear and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder which Sirius had then thought about for weeks.

He had figured this all out a long time ago, the reasoning behind his thoughts, yet even now, they were still bothering him. 

Sirius was brought back to the present when Remus said again, “Okay, well goodnight Pads.”

“Yeah, goodnight Moony,” he said, turning onto his stomach and closing his eyes. 

It was a while before Sirius’ mind caught up with his body and he was finally able to sleep.

Chapter 10: drunk on new year’s eve

Summary:

sirius is silly

Effie and Fleemont went to extra lengths to make New Year’s Eve special that year. Sirius thought this was likely in attempts to make up for the state of the wizarding world, which the Potters always seemed keen to do, even if it was just for the day. Sirius was glad for it. He wanted to hold onto all the good for as long as he could, and if anyone could outshine the darkness it was undoubtedly the Potters. 

But Sirius did wonder about Regulus, who was likely having quite a different holiday. The Black’s were not ones to try to warm up the room if it got too cold, not ones to shine a light to help you see in the dark. No, they preferred to let it swallow them. They relished the cold and brought darkness wherever they went, letting it seep out of their fingertips, enjoying the feeling of it wrapped around their hearts. 

Sirius saw how it had infected Regulus, how it continued to infect himself. 

He could feel its icy claws gripping him even then. 

He tried to remind himself this was what Regulus wanted, what he had chosen, but all he could see was his baby brother. Reggie, 6 years old, crawling into bed with him when he had nightmares, 9 years old, crying when their mother destroyed his chess set. Reg, at 10 years old, giving Sirius a look that clearly said, don’t leave me.

But Sirius had. He’d left and he’d never looked back. That’s what happened when you were raised by people like the Blacks, you were selfish. Sirius was often taunted by this idea, that he was a Black to his core and he always would be. 

But then he would feel the pure kindness in Effie’s gaze, the weight of Fleemont’s hand on his shoulder, and he’d think, no, this is who I am.  

And if he ever doubted that, he would look to Moony. 

Moony had always been even ground, something to cling to when he felt as if he were on the outside. Because Moony and Sirius were the same. They understood each other. They had both had no one and found family through Hogwarts and with the Potters. 

Maybe it was selfish to be happy about that, but it was the truth. 

****

When Sirius came down the stairs to join the loud gathering that was taking place, he was immediately ushered by Peter over to the kitchen. 

“Guess what I have for you!” James called in a sing-song voice. Sirius came round the corner to find him holding up a glass filled with bright blue liquid.

“Uh, poison?” Sirius asked.

“Better! My uncle’s homemade recipe, the strongest and finest firewhisky cocktail you’ll ever have.”

“Why is it blue then?” Remus asked, from where he was leaning, his body a graceful arc against the doorway.

“Secret ingredient,” James replied, eyes twinkling. 

“Brilliant,” Sirius said, taking the glass eagerly in his hands. 

“Wait one sec, Padfoot.” James stopped him before he could take a sip, so he could pass out glasses to Peter and Remus as well. 

“All together now, shall we toast to the New Year?”

“Yeah,” Peter agreed, holding up his glass and exclaiming, “1976!”

Sirius rolled his eyes, but they all held them up, grinning in excitement. It was moments like these that made him feel so infinitely lucky to be a part of something. 

“To the Marauders,” Sirius said, jokingly, but really meaning it. 

“To the Marauders,” James and Peter responded, simultaneously.

“Cheers,” Moony said, catching his eye. 

Sirius felt a bit dorky, but they all clinked their glasses and drank to it. 

Remus held Sirius’ gaze as he raised his glass to his lips and Sirius copied him, feeling an uncomfortable fluttering sensation in his stomach. 

He wondered what the secret ingredient really was. 

“So, what do you guys think?” James asked. 

“I love it!” Peter said, enthusiastically.

“I like the blend of spicy and sweet,” Remus said, sounding very educated in his alcoholic ways. 

James turned to Sirius, expectantly. 

“Well?” 

Sirius faltered for a moment, realising he hadn’t really processed the taste at all.

“Yeah, yeah, good. What Moony said,” he responded, heat flooding his cheeks. 

****

As it turned out, Sirius very much enjoyed the firewhisky cocktail, and ended up having not one, not two, but four of the very strong, blue coloured drinks. 

He might’ve worried about making a bad impression on James’ parents, but there were so many people there that they didn’t seem to notice. Fleemont and Effie were occupied with their guests, and besides, James’ uncle seemed to be taking up most of the attention in that regard; at one point he called Peter by their house elf’s name. 

To this, Pete had looked quite embarrassed and had released a small squeak in protest which didn’t do much to help his case. 

Sirius wasn’t sure, but it seemed like Moony was also feeling the alcohol a fair amount; he didn’t appear entirely steady on his feet. 

James, who had a bit more knowledge about the strength of the cocktails, had stuck with two. He seemed to have a certain, unpleasant memory involving the drink, which had ended with him throwing up in a potted plant when he and his cousin had drunk together the previous summer. 

The night passed in a blur. The four boys alternated between playing board games with James’ cousins and chatting with strangers, who would repeatedly ask them about their plans for after school. 

About an hour from midnight, Sirius found himself stuck in a conversation with some retired co-worker of Fleemont’s, desperately trying to pretend he wasn’t drunk off his arse. The old man didn’t seem to need much input from him, but Sirius still had to keep his face neutral and remain upright. 

“—and you know, I really do find it quite unsettling the way that so many youngsters haven’t the slightest clue what to do with their lives,” the old man was saying. “I mean, really…”

But Sirius had stopped listening because Moony had just caught his attention. The other boy was wobbling precariously in the dim light of the stairwell. When he noticed Sirius watching, a lopsided grin lit his face and he secretly motioned him over.

Sirius nodded, trying to keep his own smirk at bay. He turned quickly back to the old man, still chattering on, oblivious. “Yes, exactly. I very much agree,” Sirius interrupted. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I really must be going, but do take care.”

Then he made his escape. “But—Mr Black—” he heard being called after him. He kept walking. He was very, very casual as he crossed the room. Well, up until his calf caught the hard edge of a coffee table that had come out of nowhere. 

Limping slightly, he finally reached the corridor where Moony was waiting. They both fell into each other in a fit of giggles. Pushing him up the stairs, Remus followed after him. 

“Woah,” Sirius said. He was using the wall as a support, sliding along it as he climbed.

Moony chuckled, “Keep goin’ Pads. They can’t see us like this.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah… smart Moony, always knowing what to do.”

At the top, he caught his breath, and waited for Remus to reach the landing. 

Luckily, their room was just to the right, so they didn’t have far to go. As soon as they were inside, Sirius collapsed to the ground, giggling again. 

“Bad, bad, bad,” Remus was saying as he lay down opposite him, feet by Sirius’ head. “James did warn us about those drinks. Shoulda’ listened.”

“Nuh uh, I’m the perfect level under the influence.”

Remus laughed, low and breathily this time. Sirius liked the way it sounded. 

He needs to know, Sirius thought, so he said exactly that, “Moony, I like your laugh.”

Remus went quiet.

“What, it’s a compliment.”

“Heh- yeah, I know. Thanks Padfoot.”

“You’re welcome.”

They both fell into silence. Sirius’ head was spinning slightly and he kind of lost track of time for a moment, just lying there in the dark. 

He tried then to find Moony again, to make sure he was still there. He reached out, fingers connecting with his arm. 

“There you are,” he whispered. 

“Here I am.”

Sirius patted Moony’s arm, goofily. 

Moony patted him back. 

Sirius did it again.

Moony did it back. 

Sirius’ arm felt floppy, so he left it there, resting on Remus.’

Sirius decided then—well, really, he acted without deciding—to pull on the cuff of Remus’ sleeve. He was so far away. He didn’t know where they were in the darkness.

Moony tugged right back.

This turned into quite the game of tug of war until Sirius realised there was no getting anywhere as Moony’s sleeve was attached to his shirt. 

What nonsense this was. 

He was still holding on, so Sirius tucked his hand inside the soft fabric, warming his fingers against Remus’ wrist. 

Suddenly, Sirius recalled the memory of the two of them in the bathroom, close together, dried tears on his face and a pounding in his heart. This was just what they did now, he thought. This was their normal. 

He also thought Remus should know how nice it felt to be comforted, the way he had Sirius. 

****

Barely daring to breathe, Remus lay there in the dimly lit room, not knowing what was happening, but knowing sure as hell he wasn’t about to stop it. 

A brief moment passed and then Remus felt soft fingers brush just once over his wrist. It was barely a whisper of a touch, but Remus felt electric with energy. 

Head spinning, Remus brushed his thumb once over Sirius's own wrist. 

There was another pause, and then the gesture was returned once more, with slightly more pressure this time. Remus bit his lip to stop the sigh that nearly escaped him. 

Very slow, ever so slowly, their fingers found each other in the dark, clasping together until they were squeezing almost until it hurt. 

Remus’ heart could not take it, and yet he did not move. 

He did not say a word. 

They stayed like that for what felt like a very long time.

Chapter 11: take a chance on me

Summary:

Remus comes to a decision

Remus had no idea how much time passed before the door to their room banged open and James came bursting in.

What he did know was that the moment they heard the door, both he and Sirius ripped their hands away–though whether Sirius had out of surprise or something else, Remus wasn’t sure. 

Palm feeling strangely empty, he looked up to find James standing above them, an amused expression on his face. 

“What are you lads doing?”

Remus tried then, to tame the sudden urge he felt to strangle James.

Sirius groaned loudly, “Lying here, obviously. What are you doing?”

“It’s five minutes to midnight. Thought you’d want to know.”

“Bloody hell,” Sirius said, the words coming out a bit slurred.

James shook his head. “Up ya get,” he said, reaching down to pull Sirius up. 

After a bit of struggling, Sirius found his footing and turned to Remus, who was still on the ground. He reached down, offering a hand, “C’mon Moons.”

Remus took his hand, attempting to get to his feet. Sirius was still not very balanced apparently because he nearly fell into him when Remus stood up. 

“Oh boy,” James said, releasing a disbelieving laugh. “You two are not good influences on each other.”

Sirius giggled.

They made their way slowly back down the stairs and rejoined the other guests, who were watching an illuminated countdown that had been magically set to hang in front of the far wall over their heads.

“Blimey, you made it just in time,” Peter said, appearing from the left. 

“But we made it,” James replied, slinging an arm around both Sirius and Remus’ shoulders, “No need to worry.”

The countdown hit one minute and everyone began chanting along with it, excitement filling the air. At fifteen seconds to the New Year, Remus glanced over behind James' shoulder and immediately found Sirius’ eyes. He grinned at Remus and mouthed the final ten seconds to him. Remus counted along with him. 

When the clock struck midnight, the room exploded in a cacophony of cheers and shouts of “Happy New Year” as everyone began kissing and hugging each other, and kids who definitely should’ve been in bed raced around the room. It was chaos. Happy chaos.

Dropping his arms from around their shoulders, James grabbed Sirius’ face, planting a kiss to his cheek. He then did the same to Peter and Remus. All three boys let out sounds of protest as if he were their mother, but James just laughed.

“Excuse me. Where’s my kiss?” he demanded, when no one reciprocated it.

Fuck you, James, Remus thought, because he knew what was coming. Of course it would.

“Don’t worry, Prongs. I’ve got you,” Sirius said, as predicted. He dramatically reached for James, pressing both hands to either side of his face and kissing him squarely on the lips. When he pulled away, he was laughing hysterically. 

James, to his credit, only appeared mildly surprised and wrapped an arm around Sirius’ head, ruffling his dark hair. “Knew I could count on you, Padfoot.”

In that moment, Remus wished with everything he had that he were James.

****

Sirius woke slowly the next morning. Despite the dull ache that was present in his forehead and the slight feeling of disorientation, he was quite comfortable and warm. He hoped it wasn’t too late because he was in no way ready to get up. 

He tried to bury himself deeper into the comfort of the bed. A familiar smell that he couldn’t quite place was enveloping him, making him feel very at home, blanket nearly over his head and strong arms wrapped around his waist-

Wait.

Wait wait wait. 

Strong arms?

Sirius tensed, his heart immediately kicking into overdrive. 

Moony.

Moony’s arms were around him. 

Sirius sucked in a sharp breath. 

Not only were Remus’ arms around him, but he was cocooned inside them, pressed almost right against Remus’ chest, so close that he could feel him breathing. 

Okay, it’s okay, he thought. This is fine. You’re fine. 

They had fallen asleep, both too drunk to function, and had shifted together throughout the night by accident. That was the logical progression. The next step would be for Sirius to wake Remus and them to laugh it off.

And he would. In just a second. Once he got up the courage. 

It was just that somehow Sirius was having trouble picturing the scenario. 

Moony would become uncomfortable, Sirius knew that. He always did when things like this happened, when people got in his personal space or he got in theirs. And Sirius didn’t want to make him feel awkward. He didn’t want to set them back. 

A horrible thought occurred to him then. What if Remus had been avoiding him because of something like this, something that Sirius hadn’t been aware of. What if he had done something to make him uncomfortable. 

That was it, Sirius thought. Remus couldn’t know about this. He would have to find a way out of his arms without him waking up first. 

Unfortunately, Sirius knew Remus to be a very light sleeper, which made it a bit more difficult. He could only hope that the alcohol had knocked him out enough. 

Sirius took a deep, steadying breath, ignoring the strange feeling of Remus’ body so close to his. It made him uncomfortable, he noted; that wasn’t hard to admit.

He began slowly inching away from Remus, attempting to slip out unnoticed from beneath his fingers.

The fingers he had been holding between his own the previous night.

Sirius froze. 

Shit. 

Well, that was-

No, okay, there was no time to dwell on all of the idiotic and meaningless things he’d done while drunk. 

He returned to the task at hand, not bothering dissecting the reasons for his actions. Being excessively intoxicated seemed reason enough.

Using the blanket as a barrier between them, Sirius carefully pushed Remus’ arm off of him entirely and slid away.

He then went to stand up, relief coursing through him, except he got caught in the sheets and heavy duvet in his hurry. Before he knew it, Sirius was landing on the ground with a loud thump. 

”Ow, fuck,” he muttered. He then turned to find Remus awake, blinking his eyes at him in confusion. 

“Having fun?” he asked, his voice rough from sleep. 

“Oh yes, a grand old’ time. Do I amuse you terribly?” Sirius said, as if he hadn’t just been internally panicking. 

“Always,” Remus said, a lazy smirk appearing on his face. He sat up slowly, his hair a mess of curls. 

“Glad I can be of entertainment,” Sirius said, keeping his tone humorous. “Now if you don’t mind, I’ll be going. See you at breakfast.”

“Right,” Moony said, before Sirius exited the room, shutting the door behind him. 

****

On the 4th of January they all boarded the train to go back to Hogwarts. As nice as it had been to be at the Potter’s, Remus was glad to be going back. He had gotten more comfortable at their house, but he still felt a bit like he was intruding some of the time. 

They found the girls in their usual compartment and everyone quickly fell back into their routine of easy conversation, recounting their holidays and what they’d received for Christmas. 

Remus was happy to sit back and listen, not fussed with joining in on the small talk. He had a lot on his mind, much of which involved Sirius, like usual. 

He was currently at a loss for what to do. 

Clearly avoiding the other boy was counterproductive as long as they were friends or even just roommates. He’d come to accept over the holiday that there was nothing he could do about his feelings for him; they likely weren’t going away any time soon. If anything, they felt even harder to ignore after everything that had happened over the break. Any time Sirius was near, every time Remus heard his stupid voice, he was transported back to New Year’s Eve.

If Remus were like any of his other friends, the logical thing to do would be to go out with someone else so he could get over him. But, of course, that was not a viable option for him. He didn’t even know where to begin with that. Grant had figured out so easily about him. Remus, on the other hand, felt utterly clueless. He didn’t even know if there were other queer people at Hogwarts apart from Marlene.

There had to be right?

The only thing he could do was try to make his brain understand that he had no chance with Sirius, not even a minuscule fraction of a chance. 

But even that was proving difficult. 

The thing was that Remus couldn’t help but feel–couldn’t help but hope–that there was a chance, however small.

There were a lot of things that didn’t entirely add up, in Remus’ mind anyway. 

Because every time he would doubt, Remus would talk himself back into his hope by thinking of Regulus. More specifically, what he had said to Sirius that day all the way back in October: You’re not fooling anyone with all of those mudblood girls you keep around.

Whether it was a meaningless insult or not, Remus had never forgotten those words. 

Next on the list was the fact that hidden in the shadow of darkness when they were all alone, Sirius had held Remus’ hand. 

That moment had been so meaningful to Remus, so tender, that he could hardly think about it without getting chills. Remus knew that it would always feel different for him because of his feelings, but feelings aside, he could not seem to find a solid explanation for how important that moment felt and how completely unexplainable.

Finally, there was the moment in the bathroom. That one moment haunted him most of all because of how unfinished it felt. Remus would never know what might’ve happened if James hadn’t knocked and that possibility had him in a chokehold.

What if …

Two words that held so much power it seemed unlawful.

That what if was killing him. 

So he could hold that question inside him until the day he died, however soon that might be, or he could do something about it. 

Both options were risky and had the potential to cause pain. 

If Remus did nothing, there was no telling how long he’d have to endure this. Without closure, without rejection, he was pretty sure it could last for years. 

If he acted, there was the possibility that he lost all of his friends, Sirius at the very least. 

Remus wished with all his might that they weren’t the type of people to do that–he wanted to believe they weren’t–but you could never know for sure, could you?

Maybe there was a way, though, to test his theory, to go about this subtly. He could see how much he could get away with, starting by dropping the tiniest of remarks or the most casual of touches, before Sirius stopped him.

If Sirius did pull away and looked at him weird, well then he could play it off like an accident or a joke. It wouldn’t be unheard of where the marauders were concerned.

And if not, if Sirius didn’t pull away… well, Remus supposed he would also have his answer.

 

Chapter 12: strange

Summary:

Moony acts differently

It was a bit strange being back at Hogwarts. Sirius had always found it weird how he and Regulus could go without talking for months on end while still being in the same building. Now, knowing what he knew about his brother, it felt even stranger. 

Somewhere below him in the dungeons of the castle, Regulus was living, breathing, sleeping–going about his day as a death eater. Now that time had passed and Sirius had really let this knowledge absorb, all he felt was rage. Rage at his family, rage at himself, at the other Slytherins, but most of all rage at Regulus for betraying him, for turning into someone Sirius thought he wasn’t. Regulus had wanted this, had chosen it–had chosen to be a bad person. It took a concerted effort every day not to go down to the dungeons, find Reg and scream at him, beg him, question him for why he had done what he’d done—why Sirius hadn’t been enough for him. 

If Regulus had only been put in Gryffindor, Sirius knew this wouldn’t have happened, he was sure of it. 

But Reg hadn’t wanted that, hadn’t even let Sirius explain just how great it was. 

If Sirius had tried harder… but no, he wouldn’t blame himself anymore. As Remus had said, this couldn’t all be placed on him; Regulus was his own person and at the end of the day it was up to him to choose who he surrounded himself with and who he wanted to be.

Regulus wasn’t the only reason things had felt strange since returning to Hogwarts, however. 

Remus had been…well, he’d been acting differently.

Sirius didn’t know what had brought it on, nor could he pinpoint exactly when it had started. First he thought he was just imagining it, but after about a week of being back at school, Sirius was positive that wasn’t the case. Something had definitely changed. 

For one, Remus had completely stopped avoiding him like he had been previously. Not only that but Sirius found that Remus was actively seeking him out in a way he never had before. 

It was like their roles were reversed. Sirius didn’t even have to ask, Remus just seemed to want to be with him. 

That morning, he had specifically told Sirius as they were walking down together to the Great Hall that he was holding his study club later and that Sirius was welcome to join if he liked. 

“I would love to attend your fan club, Moony!” Sirius had responded, enthusiastically. 

“Study club,” Remus had then corrected, rolling his eyes and shoving Sirius lightly on the shoulder.

That shove had also taken Sirius so much by surprise that he nearly tripped into a nearby statue. 

That was another thing. Lately, Remus didn’t seem as bothered with keeping to himself, with maintaining as much of a distance from people as he always had before. He didn’t seem to be holding himself back as much in terms of what he said either. 

The contrast to the previous term was so stark that it was almost unsettling, not that Sirius was complaining—it was good to see Moony open up and be more confident. 

So after dinner, Sirius joined Lily, Mary, Marlene, and Remus as they headed over to the library for their weekly study club. 

When they got to their usual table—because of course Professor Moony and his followers had their own table—they immediately pulled out their books and began revising. Soon, almost twenty people had joined in, taking turns pestering Moony for his attention. 

When Remus finally was left alone for a minute, Sirius turned to him.

“Moonyyy, I’m bored.”

“Maybe you should do your work then.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Sirius had known what the meetings were like, having been to them once or twice before, but that didn’t mean he had resigned himself to actually doing anything productive. He really had only come because Remus had asked him. 

But Remus just let out a long, disapproving sigh and flipped a page in his book, eyebrow furrowed in concentration. 

“You know,” Sirius said, leaning in a bit closer. “You’ll get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that.”

Remus frowned deeper without looking up from his page. 

“Fine, pretend to ignore me all you want. I know you can’t resist my charm.”

“What charm?” Remus asked as he began writing out the first line of his astronomy paper. 

“Moony! How could you! I-”

“Remus, could you take a look at my paper? I’m afraid that I’ve done it all wrong.” A scrawny, blondish boy came up behind them, completely cutting Sirius off mid sentence. This was the fourth time he had come over now. 

Remus just said, pleasantly, “Yeah, sure, Chris. Give me one second.” He finished writing his next sentence as the rude boy pulled up a chair on Remus’ other side. 

Sirius purposely stared daggers at the boy, wondering what his problem was. He had seen him at other meetings and he didn’t remember liking him much better the other times. 

“Is my second paragraph bad?” Christopher asked, watching Remus intently as he began reading. “I don’t think my point about grindelows make sense, does it?”

Remus continued scanning the paper, “No, it’s good. Just, yeah, maybe take that one line out. You’re right, it doesn’t really relate to the rest of what you’re saying.”

“Okay. Right, yes. Should’ve known. Thanks Remus,” he responded, smiling at him nervously before scurrying away again. 

“Who is that kid?” Sirius asked once he was gone. 

“He’s a fourth year, named Christopher,” Remus said, plainly. 

“Yeah, but who is he? Why is he here?”

“We’re friends.”

“But why?”

“Because we are. Same reason you and I are friends.”

Sirius huffed at that. Their two relationships were not comparable. 

“What?” Remus said, finally turning to look at him and leaning in close. “You jealous?” he breathed in Sirius’ ear. Sirius fought the incomprehensible urge to shudder. 

“Jealous of what?” he asked, staring fixedly at a small chandelier that hung from the ceiling. One of its bulbs was flickering, and Sirius latched onto it as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

“You tell me,” Remus said, leaning back at last and giving Sirius the space to breathe again. 

Sirius turned his head slowly to find Remus looking at him, a smirk dancing across his face. 

But then, “Relax mate, I’m just messing with you,” Remus said, clapping him on the back before pushing out his chair and sloping off to Madam Pince, finished with his book.

Sirius was left there floundering for a moment. Was he jealous? Sirius? He almost laughed. What did that scrawny, little year four have on him that he should be jealous of? As if. 

He was still pondering the horribly irrelevant joke when Remus returned.

“Sirius...” he asked as he sat back down.

“Hm?” Sirius said in response, not meeting his eyes. He had begun doodling on Remus' scratch paper—a jagged, zigzag pattern. 

“If you want to share a fag and listen to a record later we can do that instead. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

If Sirius had been Padfoot at that moment his ears would’ve perked up, giving him away, but he just gave a casual smile and said, “It’s okay, I’ll stay. Maybe I should do some work.” It felt a bit dumb then if he were to admit he had only come for Moony. 

“Okay, Padfoot,” Remus said, giving him a soft smile in return. 

“We can still do that when we get back, though. I mean, if you want.” They hadn’t in so very long. 

“Yeah, sounds good.” He went back to his essay and Sirius pulled out his books for the first time in a while. 

****

The dorm was empty when they made it back, an unsurmountable number of hours later. James was still out flying—the bloody lunatic—and Peter, off with Desdemona as usual. 

Sirius didn’t mind. He was actually rather glad for it if he were honest. Smoking and listening to records was their thing—his and Moony’s—and he didn’t think it would be right if the others were there.

As Remus went to find his pack of cigarettes, Sirius cracked open the window, settling himself in the nook next to it as he waited for Moony. It was raining outside, a sort of dreary rain that left the air smelling like melting snow. 

“What do you want to listen to?” Remus called from where he was bent over the turntable, shuffling through records. 

“Surprise me,” Sirius said. He liked when Remus picked. He always chose certain records based on his mood and it made Sirius feel like he could see into his mind a bit better.

When the starting notes to Five Years rang out through the room Sirius smiled; so he was feeling sentimental today. 

A second later, Moony hopped up next to him on the seat, fag in one hand and a lighter in the other. He brought the cigarette to his lips and lit it easily before taking a long drag. He breathed out slowly, releasing hypnotising swirls of smoke around them, and offered the cigarette to Sirius.

Long fingers lightly brushed Sirius’ as he took it, and he blinked rapidly, blocking out the memory of another touch. He inhaled deeply as Remus had done, before blowing the smoke out, hoping he looked cooler than he felt. 

They sat in silence for a while, the air becoming a bit hazy, along with Sirius’ mind. When Remus pulled out a second cigarette he paused on his way to lighting it, regarding Sirius curiously. 

“Hey, teach me that trick you do.”

Sirius smiled. Moony was so smart he never asked for help anymore—not that he’d ever really asked, or needed it—but Sirius still loved teaching him things. He reached out, motioning for Moony to pass him the fag. When he did, Sirius held up his palm, letting the weight of the other boy’s eyes fill his chest with warmth. He focused on that warm feeling and imagined it travelling out his arm so that when he snapped his fingers a spark caught on the cigarette. “What, this trick?” he asked, casually. 

“Yes, that,” Remus responded, rolling his eyes like he knew Sirius was enjoying himself.

“Okay, well there’s really not much to it. You kinda just think really hard about fire, sparks—anything hot, really, and then direct it to whatever you’re lighting.”

“That’s all?” Remus asked, dubiously. He pulled out another cigarette from the pack.

“Basically.”

Remus frowned, a look of concentration on his face. He snapped his fingers. Nothing happened. “You make it look so easy.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve always been good at the dramatics, haven’t I? I think that’s what it takes.” 

“Hm, right,” Moony said. “So I just have to become flustered? Try to embarrass me or something then.”

Sirius laughed, “You know, you might be onto something.” He paused. “Okay, uh- out of all the birds in our year, who would you fancy going out with?”

Remus sighed, heavily. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

“Well, I don’t know,” Sirius replied, defensively. He tried again, “Is it really true that you and Marlene don’t fancy each other?”

Remus threw up his hands, “Godric, Sirius! No, we don’t. You know, you can fluster me way more than Marlene can just with your annoyingness.” 

“Oh is that so?” Sirius asked, leaning closer and looking him right in the eye, almost daring.

“It is so.”

“Well then think of me, why don’t you.”

“Oh I will,” Remus said, sarcastically, his voice low. He leaned forward too so their faces were mere inches apart; Sirius resisted the urge to retreat, heart in his throat. Remus narrowed his eyes, lifting his middle finger in the air and showing it to Sirius—who made a face of mock hurt—before Remus snapped his finger and thumb together, causing a large spark to catch on the cigarette, lighting it.

“Very impressive,” Sirius commented, smirking.

Moony just gave him a pleased look and snapped again. This time the fireplace in the center of the room caught fire, and before long, it was crackling merrily, filling the room with an orangish glow.

Sirius’ mouth dropped open in shock. “What the hell, Moony. How’d you do that?” Somehow he always managed to one-up him and come out looking twice as good as Sirius ever could. 

Remus shrugged, “Guess you invoke a special kind of passion in me.”

“I’m honoured, Moony. I must really drive you crazy, huh.”

“You have no idea,” he said. There was an almost imperceptible edge to Remus’ tone, but he just smiled mildly and inhaled another deep drag of smoke, which when he released he blew directly into Sirius’ face. 

Chapter 13: friends or lovers?

Notes:

yay my exams are over!! back to giving wolfstar my undivided attention ;)

As Saturday morning dawned, a palpable sense of anticipation hung in the air in Gryffindor tower as the Gryffindors prepared for their upcoming match against Ravenclaw that would be taking place that day. 

James and Sirius had gone down to the pitch for a quick warm-up with the rest of the team at 7 am, and when they returned, they came straight to Remus’ bed, waking him much too soon for his liking. 

“Wakey wakey, Moony,” Sirius said, as James pulled back the curtains and they both jumped onto the end of the bed. 

“Gerroff,” Remus grumbled, “You’re both all sweaty.”

To this, Sirius just stretched himself out across Remus’ legs into a position which surely couldn’t have been comfortable. “Who, me?”  Sirius asked, flashing that smile. “I never sweat.”

“I beg to differ,” Remus said, trying to shift away. It was too early in the morning for him to be that close to Sirius, he hadn’t built up his defences well enough yet.  

“What do you mean? Dogs don’t sweat, and neither do I.”

“Sure you don’t, Snuffles,” James grinned, as he reached up and made a show of scratching behind Sirius’ ear, to which Sirius responded by sticking his tongue out and panting like the dog he was. 

“Nope, and I smell amazing.”

“Okay, I wouldn’t go that far,” James said, doubtfully. 

Sirius shoved him, causing James to topple off the edge of the bed. 

“You’ll pay for that!” came James’ outburst from where he had landed on the floor. 

But a second later, they found themselves staring at a large, black dog that had taken Sirius’ place. Before James’ could form an attack plan—or before Remus could make his escape—Padfoot had jumped up, gave Remus’ face several thorough licks, and curled up right in his lap. 

Remus let out a disgruntled sound of protest, but the dog remained where he was, seeming quite content. He gave a soft bark at James when the other boy made a move to approach. 

James tutted his tongue, shaking his head. “We need to get him a leash,” he called over his shoulder as he headed to the bathroom. 

“Padfoot, really?” Remus asked, sighing again. 

Padfoot just looked up at him, appearing to feel no remorse for the big, puppy dog eyes he was giving Remus. 

Remus rolled his eyes, giving in like he always did to Sirius, or Padfoot as it were—he tried not to think about the fact that it was Sirius who was cuddling into him; it didn’t mean anything to the dog. He slumped back down into his pillows, letting himself be pulled back into the dream-state between sleeping and waking. 

He awoke some time later to James’ voice again, calling, “Moony, Pads, it’s breakfast time!” Remus opened his eyes slowly to find James standing over them again. “C’mon, the match starts in almost an hour.”

Padfoot hopped off the bed, quickly, and transformed back into Sirius. Remus sat up slowly and yawned, twisting this way and that, trying to rid himself of the ache in his back. 

“You really have a thing for Moony as a dog, don’t ya Padfoot?” James remarked, eyes crinkling in amusement.

Sirius shrugged as he went to open his trunk and began digging through it. “What? It's the wolf in him. Can’t explain it.”

Remus didn’t know what to make of that. 

James laughed, “Whatever that means.”

****

Twenty minutes later, they were sitting down at the Gryffindor table for breakfast with the rest of their group. Sirius had rushed in five minutes after them as he had insisted they go on ahead—he hadn’t been done perfecting his look in the mirror (“I have a reputation to uphold as the dashing Black outcast, don’t you know?”). Remus wasn’t quite sure what he had been doing because he didn’t look much different to him, but it was endearing all the same.

“How do I look?” Sirius asked, shaking out his hair as he sat down across from Remus.

Remus was once again faced with the decision to speak the truth or remain a coward. Being the Gryffindor he was, he thought it appropriate he continue on with his foolish pursuit of honesty. 

“Like my dream man,” he said, before shoving a bite of toast in his mouth to distract his body from doing something stupid like blushing.

Sirius blinked and Marlene, who was sitting next to him, promptly began choking on her tea.

“I can’t tell if that’s a compliment or an insult,” Sirius laughed.

Remus just shrugged, watching as Mary patted Marlene good naturedly on the back. When Marlene had recovered, she raised her eyebrows at Remus, a small smirk threatening to appear on her face. Remus just smiled back, keeping an outward facade of calm as his brain screamed at him. 

He had quickly realised his plan was going to be much harder than he had imagined—Sirius was one oblivious idiot and Remus hadn’t had the nerve to make many notable attempts. It felt a lot like repeatedly throwing himself over what he thought was the edge of a precipice, only to hit the ground a second later, perfectly safe while his heart beat a million miles per minute.

As they made their way down to the pitch, Marlene sidled along next to Remus. 

“Hey,” she said, reaching up to link her arm into his. 

“Hey...” he replied, nervously, regretting all of his life decisions. 

“So,” she grinned up at him.

“So,” he answered back, keeping his eyes on his feet. 

Marlene paused for a second, then suddenly started cackling, head tilted back to the sky, body visibly shaking. 

“Oh Godric, Marlene. Shut the fuck up,” he laughed, unable to help it either. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes. “I’m not laughing at you. Well, I am, but- I just- you’re so relatable. What caused this new tactic?”

“Just decided to start being honest,” he said, waving at Sirius and James as they parted ways to go to the changing rooms. Sirius was giving them a funny look which he tried to ignore—it was likely due to the fact that Marlene was laughing like a crazy person. 

“Well that’s one way of doing it,” Marlene said. 

“Yeah, I mean, I’m gonna end up acting pathetic either way so might as well,” Remus mumbled, trying to keep his voice down. 

They stopped to the side of the stands, the others not far off.

“What are you guys whispering about?” Lily asked, coming up behind them and lowering her voice to match theirs. 

“Oh erm- nothing... specific,” Remus responded, avoiding eye contact.

Lily opened her mouth to say something but then Marlene cut in. “James’ mum,” she said. “We’re talking about James’ mum.”

“What?” Lily asked, looking no less confused.

“Yeah, she’s like, so hot, you know.”

Lily laughed out loud. “You’re talking about how hot James’ mum is?”

“Obviously,” Remus said. He bit his lip, trying to hold in his own laughter. 

“And how does James feel about this?”

“Oh, he supports. Says if we’re complimenting his mum, we’re simultaneously complimenting him because of, you know, genetics and all,” Marlene explained, matter of factly. 

“Of course,” Lily said, nodding in feigned agreement. 

“Yeah. So, while we’re at it you might as well hop on the train and admit you wouldn’t mind getting to know Potter better, if you know what I mean.” Marlene wiggled her eyebrows. 

“...Which Potter, Marlene?” Lily inquired, looking at her sideways.

“James, who else?” Marlene smirked. 

“In his dreams,” Lily replied, flipping her hair over one shoulder and crossing her arms. 

Marlene answered as if she were speaking to a small child. “Well we know that.” 

Grateful that they seemed to have moved past their previous conversation, Remus smiled fondly at her, trying to convey his appreciation. She gave him a quick wink in return. 

“Welcome,” interrupted the voice of the commentator, reverberating around the pitch, “to the Winter 1976 Gryffindor-Ravenclaw quidditch match.”

“Oh shit, guess I better go,” Marls said. 

“Oops, yeah, get out of here,” said Lily, shooing her away.

She gave a little salute, before dashing off to join her team.

****

They won. Of course they did. James scored the majority of the goals like usual and Sirius and Marlene seemed to be working well together, never missing a bludger. There was one instance, however, where they seemed to have some sort of miscommunication, both going for the same one. Remus wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it, but for a fleeting moment he thought he saw a look of deep annoyance flashed across Sirius’ face, though it clearly hadn’t been Marlene’s fault.

Back in the common room, Remus sat with Lily by the fireplace as they waited for their friends. Mary meanwhile was playing chess with Peter, who had dragged her into a game and was looking close to winning, judging by the pleased expression on his face. 

As Lily pulled a blanket around herself, shivering slightly from the two hours spent in the cold, she gave Remus a long look, seeming to be considering something. 

He almost didn’t want to ask, but he knew it was only a matter of time before she said it herself. “What?” he asked. “You look like you want to say something.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I was just wondering...”

“...Yes?”

She hesitated. “I-”

“Lils, just say it already.” He had no clue what she was going to ask, whether it was about his furry little problem, his lack of attraction to the opposite sex, or another one of his less condemning secrets.”

“Do you like Marlene?”

Remus blinked. Of all the things it was this again. “Do I like Marlene? That’s what you were going to ask?”

“Yeah, I just- Marlene says it’s not like that, but I couldn’t tell if she was just saying that. You don’t have to say anything, but I am your friend and I care about you and just- I want to know the things that matter to you because you matter to me.” She took a deep breath, having said that all on one inhale. 

“I appreciate that, Lils. I really do. And as great as Marlene is, I don’t think of her that way.”

She nodded, green eyes filled with a kind warmth. “Okay, Remus.”

He nudged her leg with his foot, “But hey, same goes for you, okay? You can tell me anything you want, whenever you want. I’m not one to judge.” 

“Thanks Remus, you’re a great friend.”

Remus didn’t know about that. He really wasn’t trustworthy at all. He let her believe he was harmless, normal, just like everyone else. The things she didn’t know about him were endless. There was still time for her to run away screaming. 

But he just said, “You’re a great friend too.”

Lily patted his arm in response.“So, do you think Marlene likes anyone though?”

“Oh, uh... I don’t know. Why are you asking me?”

“Because you’re very intuitive.”

Remus shrugged. “How ‘bout Mary?” he said, trying to redirect the conversation.

“I don’t know for sure. But you know, I have a feeling she likes Sirius.”

Remus froze. He tried not to let the horror show on his face when he said, “Sirius? Why?”

“Just a feeling. You won’t say anything, will you?”

“Wouldn't dream of it,” he promised, and he meant it wholeheartedly. 

Just then, James, Marlene, and Sirius came bursting through the portrait hole, all looking satisfied with themselves and a bit wound up from all the excitement. 

“Hey Evans!” James called, giving her his best smile. 

“Yeah, yeah. Hi, Potter.”

James' eyes lit up from the non-rejection. “How’ve you been? Enjoyed the game?”

Lily rolled her eyes and turned to Marlene. “Nice playing, Marls. You crushed it.”

Marlene smiled, proudly. “I know,” she said, and went over to say hi to Mary and Peter. 

Sirius and James flopped down on the nearby armchairs, James on Lily’s said and Sirius next to Remus. 

“So, what were you guys talking about? Extra-credit homework?” Sirius asked. 

“Oh no, just the trivial subjects of life. The classic question of are they friends or are they lovers? Who fancies who...” Lily said. 

Both boys perked up, curiosity evident on their faces. Remus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 

“And what were the conclusions?” James wondered. 

“Oh this and that,” Lily answered, elusively. She spoke to Sirius next, “What about you? Do you fancy anyone Sirius?” 

Out of the corner of his eye–because Remus’ attention was focused elsewhere–he saw James pick up a book and begin ‘reading’, a blush tinting his cheeks. Remus didn’t blame him, everyone knew who he fancied; he supposed even James could lose his confidence every now and then. 

“Oh erm, no... not right now,” Sirius said, sounding unusually unsure.

“You do!” Lily gasped. 

“I really don’t.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, do you have hearing problems? I just said the opposite. Do I always have to fancy someone?”

“Of course not,” Lily said. “I just-”

“Well, great then! Glad we sorted that out,” Sirius said, before abruptly leaving the room.

****

Later that night, Sirius lay awake beneath the canopy of his four-poster, his mind spinning, replaying the events of the day as it often did. He could see a faint light coming from Moony’s bed like usual—the boy had horrible sleeping patterns. 

A second later the light went out. Sirius listened for the sound of Remus settling into his blankets. Instead, he heard the soft padding of footsteps. Sirius waited, hoping, expecting disappointment. 

But then, a whispered voice said, “Sirius? Are you awake?”

Sirius’ stomach did an odd, little somersault. “Yeah.”

Remus drew back the curtains and poked his head in. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure.” Sirius scooted up his bed further so Remus could sit down. 

“Can’t sleep?” Remus asked. 

Sirius shook his head.

“Me neither.”

Sirius nodded again, a bit unsure of what to say. Relax, he thought. It’s just Moony. 

But Remus never did this. He never came to Sirius’ bed; it had only ever been Sirius going to him.

“What was that about with Lily earlier?” Remus asked, straight to the point. So that’s what this was about.

“Oh erm, nothing, really. Sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten short with her.”

“She’ll get over it. But, really, it seemed like something. You can tell me.”

“You wouldn’t get it.”

“Try me. I’m not completely unknowledgeable. I’ve had feelings for people before you know.” 

But that was exactly why Sirius couldn’t- couldn’t explain, couldn’t talk to Remus- as much as he wanted to. It wasn’t his feelings that were a problem, it was his lack thereof. 

The thing was he could be so confident about himself one moment; he would see a girl and find his eyes being drawn towards her and he would think, See! I get it. I’m normal.

But then as soon as the feeling disappeared, he would feel this great uncertainty and begin to doubt whether it had even been real in the first place. 

So he couldn’t tell Moony about it- about why such a harmless question could bring out such a reaction from him. Couldn’t even put it into words, this- this inexplicable feeling that there was something wrong with him, something missing from him that he needed to overcompensate for. 

Or else Remus might realise that it was true. 

So instead Sirius said, “Moony, why have you been acting differently lately.”

Remus looked up very suddenly, clearly having expected something else.  “By differently, you mean...?”

“Like all of a sudden you have this confidence and you seem to say whatever comes to your mind and you- you seek me out instead of- and it’s-  I mean, I’m just- I’m not used to it.” Sirius cringed. That had come out much more jumbled than he had meant for it to. 

“Is it bothering you?”

“No! I just keep feeling-” Sirius grappled to find the word for a moment, “Surprised.”

“Pleasantly surprised because I’m so charming and you think I’m dashingly handsome?”

“See!” he said, feeling his cheeks warm. “See what I mean? This! Who stole our Moony?”

“I don’t know, maybe real Moony was locked away somewhere in some basement or something and you were with imposter Moony the whole time.” 

“Now you have me really freaked out,” Sirius said.

Remus chuckled, softly and ran a hand through his hair. Sirius’ eyes followed the movement. He felt strange. The air was thick with a sort of tension that hung between them, as if they were about to have a fight—yet they, for once, weren’t arguing. 

“I don’t know, I guess I got tired of shutting myself away, of second-guessing everything I do. Thought I’d take a page from your books for once.”

“Really? and how’s that working out for you?”

“Couldn’t really say. Good and bad.”

“Yeah, I mean, look where it’s gotten me.”

“What do you mean?”

Sirius shrugged, feeling like he was proving his point that very moment. “Just that I don’t always feel how I act.”

“Sometimes it seems like you act exactly how you feel.”

“I guess.” He tried his best not to scowl at the comment. 

He forced himself to stop- stop talking, stop thinking. He had always felt like Moony could see right through him. If he continued on, who knew what he’d say, with those eyes watching him so intensely. 

They sat there in silence for a moment—the air remaining heavy, pressing into his chest. He needed to breathe, but he couldn’t- it was too much, too quiet. 

At last, Remus said, “Okay, guess I should try to sleep.”

“Yeah. Same.”

“Okay,” Remus said again. He patted Sirius’ knee, then drew his hand away slowly. 

Sirius couldn’t stop the shaky sounding exhale of a breath that escaped him. It made him sound nervous, which he wasn’t. 

Remus gave him one last look, frowning slightly, before slipping back out through the curtains. 

Chapter 14: say it, out loud, say it

Summary:

Sirius has a what??!

‘ I move through the world with the heartbroken. 

My longings stay unspoken. 

And I may never open up the way I did for you.’

~Taylor Swift (the Black Dog)

 

Moony was chewing the end of his pencil again and it was driving Sirius insane.

It was a habit that he had started recently and had taken to doing whenever he was focused–such as during their History of Magic class where they were currently being held hostage for a silent study period.

Sirius clenched his teeth, his irritation growing as he watched Moony move the pencil to the other side of his mouth, brow furrowed in concentration as he flipped through his notes. 

It was a disgusting habit, really. One that needed to be stopped immediately; it was very unsanitary. He had half a mind to go over there and grab the pencil from Remus’ mouth and put a stop to this torture, but he had already caused too many scenes as of late and was really trying to avoid another detention. 

“Padfoooot…”

Well, he supposed if it were with Mcgonagall it wouldn’t be too bad–she usually gave him biscuits. 

“Pads.”

Besides, it wasn’t his fault that Moony was so infuriating. So mysterious. Aggravating. Intriguing. 

Moony leaned back and yawned, stretching his back and extending his long legs. Sirius wanted to groan out loud.

“Oi! Black!”

Sirius jolted. He dragged his eyes away from the tall, scarred boy sitting across the room and turned to face his black haired, glasses-wearing best friend who was giving him a funny look. 

“What, Potter?” Sirius asked, his annoyance spiking again. Merlin, everyone was getting on his nerves lately.

“I was trying to get your attention, but you didn’t hear me. What were you staring at?”

“I was- nothing- I was staring into space.” The lie made him feel funny—he didn’t even know why he had said it. He just- for some reason he didn’t think James would understand. 

“Right, well- just so you know, it looked like you were staring straight at Moony.”

“Oh,” Sirius laughed, forcefully, his body flushing with heat. “Whoops.”

He turned back to his work, pretending to be deep in thought about the paper he was definitely not working on. 

For some reason, his mind was choosing to replay the moment when Lily had asked him if he fancied anyone; he couldn’t get it out of his head. 

It wasn’t that Lily was right—she wasn’t—and it was a perfectly normal question to ask; he felt a bit regrettable about the way he had responded. 

But he had been thinking that maybe the reason he didn’t fancy anyone right then was because he hadn’t put himself out there in a while. 

If he gave one of the girls who had shown interest in him a chance, he knew he could like them. He just needed to do it, get back into the game, and start dating someone. That's what people his age did, and it was something he wanted, eventually. It just seemed like a lot of work having a girlfriend. Sirius had never envied Peter, who was always tied up with Desdemona. But he could give it another go. Why not? It wasn’t like he would be losing time spent on homework. 

So that was how Sirius found himself walking down to Hogsmeade the following weekend, hand in hand with a girl called Ruby Lark.

Ruby had originally approached him at his birthday party but he had been having too much fun with his friends to pay her any mind. She had also sent him a Christmas card during the holidays. 

So when she smiled at him from across the Gryffindor common room one day that week, he had simply gotten up and asked her out, easy as that. 

She was very pretty and quite tall for a girl, but he kind of liked that about her. He would just have to wait for the feelings to follow. 

He hadn’t particularly wanted to go to Hogsmeade with her of all places—he would’ve much rather gone with his friends—but he was enjoying it more than he thought he would. It was nice, being out with a girl, walking down from the castle surrounded by other couples doing the same thing. Besides, they could always meet up with everyone later in the Three Broomsticks. 

He tried to attend to her every need. When she shivered and said, ‘Sirius, I’m cold,’ he gave her his jacket, when she eyed a heart-shaped lollipop at Honeydukes he bought it for her without a second thought, and when she pulled him into the bathroom at the Three Broomsticks and pressed herself against him, he kissed her and let himself enjoy it. 

He prayed it would be enough. 

****

Remus was going to murder Sirius Black. Well, no, he supposed that wouldn’t solve his problem. So, correction: Remus was going to murder Ruby Lark. And every other girl that looked Sirius’ way.

He hadn’t even known what was going on until that Saturday when they had all met to go down to Hogsmeade village and Sirius hadn’t been there.

In the end, it was James (of course) who had broken the news. Remus had tried his very hardest to not let his face crumple as the words ‘Sirius has a date’ registered in his brain. Unfortunately, he didn’t think his hardest was very good at all. 

He could feel Marlene’s eyes on him the whole way down from Gryffindor Tower as the words echoed in his head and his heart clenched painfully in his chest. He needed to go back- needed to be alone- could not bear the thought of seeing them together. But he also couldn’t act in a way that suggested anything was other than fine. 

He desperately hoped beyond hope that Sirius and Ruby would not be at the Three Broomsticks. At the same time, he also prayed they weren’t getting cosy at Madam Puddifoots.

Alas, one couldn’t have everything. 

When they walked into the Three Broomsticks and didn't see them there, Remus felt a small wave of relief. He sat down next to Lily, opposite Peter, at a long table by the door. 

They ordered a round of butterbeers and Remus began to relax. As they waited for their drinks, they discussed which other shops they planned to visit. Mary needed more quills and James wanted to go to Zonko’s—Remus had a sneaking suspicion it was to restock their supply of dung bombs, but that James wanted to keep that piece of information from Lily. The conversation came to a halt, however, when something caught James’ attention on the far side of the room. “Lookie, lookie, what do we have here?” he said in a suggestive tone. 

Remus tried to prepare himself, he really did, but when he saw what James was referring to, his stomach dropped through the floor. 

Sirius and his date had just stepped out of the narrow passageway by the bar, the one that Remus could only assume lead to the girl’s bathroom. Ruby was in the process of smoothing down her hair and Sirius had a cheeky grin on his face, one that only became wider when the girl reached up and kissed him on the cheek, allowing him to sling an arm around her shoulders. 

Remus felt sick.

Despite every urge he had in him to run, he stayed glued to his seat as Sirius nudged her and they meandered over to join their table. Peter and James were snickering.

“Hey,” Sirius said, breathlessly, when he reached them.

“Why, hello there,” James responded, not bothering to hide his smirk. The others at the table seemed to share his amusement.

“Everyone, this is Ruby,” Sirius said, gesturing to the girl on his arm, who waved shyly at them. “Mind if we join you?”

I really really do, Remus thought to himself, in place of standing up and yelling it in Sirius’ face like he wished to do. 

I hate you. Go away and never come back, I don’t want you here. 

But also, why don’t you want me?

“Not at all,” Pete said, gesturing to the two free chairs at the end of the table between him and Remus. 

No, no, no, no, no. No. 

But the universe hated him, and so Sirius ended up sitting directly next to Remus, with Ruby on his other side. 

Ruby smiled at Remus as she held Sirius’ hand. Remus did his best not to kick her chair over. 

“Hi,” Sirius said quietly to him, as the drinks, which had just arrived, were passed around the table. Remus nodded once then turned away. 

****

Remus was avoiding him again.

Sirius didn’t know what he had done wrong. He had thought they were past all of that. He desperately didn’t want to repeat it. 

Remus had not spoken to him the entire rest of the day, not when Sirius tried talking to him on the walk back up to the castle, not at dinner when he had asked if Remus wanted tea, and not when he’d tried to say goodbye before heading to detention. 

As he helped Flitwick mark his first year’s Charms essays, Sirius thought and thought about what could possibly have caused his best friend to switch up on him so fast.

Things had been perfectly normal that morning at breakfast: they had laughed about Snivellis’ new haircut and returned to Gryffindor Tower still giggling as they debated another prank idea. But something had happened between then and when they met up in Hogsmeade. Did it have to do with Ruby? It certainly seemed like it, given the glares she had also received from him, but Sirius could not piece together why.

He had pulled James’ aside before dinner, desperate for answers, needing to see if he knew something Sirius didn’t. 

“It could be the girl thing,” James had said. “He’s always weird about that kind of stuff.”

“Yeah, but why?” Sirius had demanded. “I don’t understand. He’s snogged a girl before.”

“Maybe he’s jealous. Maybe he wishes he could go out with someone and is too scared to ask. Or maybe he misses his girl from the summer.”

His girl. 

Something had twisted in Sirius’ gut at that, sharp and vengeful. It had been months, surely Remus didn’t still think about her. 

“Maybe,” was all he had said in return. He hadn’t wanted to think about it anymore.

But he had to. Sirius could not bear the thought of another month of silence.

So he vowed to ask Remus, to confront him as soon as he saw him- to not let him get away this time. 

Communication. That was the key to relationships, or so he’d heard from Lily, Mary and Marlene countless times. They just needed to talk it out- get everything out there. He could make Remus see reason; he could make him feel better about whatever was bothering him. He would. 

Once he was finally dismissed by Flitwick, he marched out of the classroom on a mission, determination coursing through his veins. He wouldn’t stop until he found Remus. 

Fortunately, he didn’t have to look for long; Sirius found him on his route up to the common room. In fact, he more than found him, Sirius thought, laughing slightly as he reeled back, having just run right into the other boy when he rounded a corner. 

“Hi Moony,” he said, feeling slightly jittery. “Uhhh, didn’t see you there.”

Remus frowned at him. 

Good one, off to a great start , he thought. Remus had the ability to make him feel more like an idiot than anyone he’d ever met. 

“Are you on patrol?” Sirius asked. 

“Nope, just chilling here for no reason,” he responded with a straight face. 

“Ha. Funny. Very funny.” 

“Okay, I have things to do,” Remus said, moving to go past him.

“Wait!” Sirius grabbed his arm. “Moony, you’re angry at me. Why?”

Remus turned to face him again, a resigned expression on his face. “Not angry, Padfoot.”

“Then why are you avoiding me? You can tell me. I won’t judge you, I promise. I just want to know.” Sirius knew he was running the risk of sounding like he cared too much, that he was taking it too seriously, but this was more important. 

Remus’ eyes hardened. “Not everything’s about you, okay?” 

He knew it was true, but the comment stung. “I know that, but this feels like it is!” Realising his hand was still on Remus’ arm, Sirius stepped back carefully. 

Apparently, that had been the only thing keeping him there because the second Sirius did, Remus went to leave again. 

“Is it about Ruby? Are you jealous?” Sirius whispered. 

Remus stopped, turned slowly back around, and looked right at Sirius, his gaze intense, almost scorching. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know how you feel. Do you fancy someone, is that it? I’m sure they’d go out with you if you asked.” They’d be crazy not to. 

Remus' mouth fell open. And then he laughed like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  

Did this mean he had been right, Sirius wondered, his chest tightening again. 

“Just fuck off, Sirius. It doesn’t matter.” 

“Yes. It does. To me, it does.” He felt exposed; he was saying too much. But Sirius wanted- he wanted- His fingers ached to reach out, but he knew it wouldn’t help matters. It would only make Moony withdraw further into his shell. 

“I- you know what? Fine!” Remus said. “I do like someone. I bloody fancy someone so pathetically that it makes me want to rip my own hair out.”

“You- you do?” Oh. “Merlin. Well. Okay.” Sirius faltered, unsure of what to say. A knot had formed in the pit of his stomach and he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was all wrong, that everything had been messed up. He wished he could go back- back to when things were simpler, when all they needed was each other. And James. And Peter. He wished- he wished-

But he had been silent for too long and the look of regret on Remus’ face at having shared his secret was growing by the second. Soon he would shut off. Soon Sirius wouldn’t be able to reach him. 

“Okay, can you– why don’t you just tell them? Just ask them out,” he said finally. His curiosity was eating him alive but he knew better than to ask who it was.

“It’s not as easy as that. They’re not interested. I promise you they’re not.”

“You’ll never know until you try.”

“I have tried, alright?” Remus said, through gritted teeth.

“You’ve said it? You’ve told them those exact words— I fancy you? ”

Remus closed his eyes, looking pained. “Well, no, but-”

“Then you don’t know, do you?”

“I do. This time I do. And sometimes it’s better to not say anything at all, which you clearly don’t understand.”

“Better for who?” Sirius said, ignoring the jab. “I say it’s better to get it all out there so you can either be with them or move on. Look, I’m serious, Moony. Not even Evans would say no to you. Well, I mean, I hope it’s not Evans because James would–” He paused. “Wait, is it Evans?” he asked, panic slicing through his body.

“No! Fucking hell! It’s not.”

“Phew, okay cause that would’ve been- I mean-”

“I know. I’m not stupid enough to do that.” Remus glared at him.

“Yeah, I know. But I mean– you can’t always choose who you– you can’t always choose that.”

Remus looked up at him in surprise, as if he didn’t expect Sirius to say something so profound. “No. You can’t,” he said, slowly.

“Right. So you know…I wouldn’t blame you if you had feelings for someone you shouldn’t.” Moony needed to understand- needed to know- that nothing he felt was wrong or- embarrassing, that he could trust him- could confide in him.

Remus nodded, regarding him from beneath those long lashes, and Sirius thought that maybe, just maybe, he was going to tell him. 

“Black.”

Sirius jumped embarrassingly high at the sound of someone saying his name. 

It was Mary. She had just rounded the far corner and was walking towards them with purpose, braids swinging as she moved. 

Remus stepped back, retreating into himself again. 

No! Wait! Sirius wanted to say. But it was too late.

When Mary reached them she smiled, placing a warm hand on Sirius’ arm. 

“Remus, mind if I borrow this one for a quick chat?”

Moony nodded stiffly and offered her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “He’s all yours.”

Chapter 15: broken telephone

Summary:

Sirius overcompensates. Remus pines. Grant is stuck in the middle again.

Notes:

Hii, oops I’m posting this a lot later than I had hoped to. In my defence, I was at my grandma’s death day party. I feel like I've become a verified ao3 writer, everyone congratulate me (pls tell me u get the joke). Anyways here ya go ;)

Sirius watched, helpless, as Remus walked away from them. Would he go back to avoiding him? Would Sirius really have to endure this again?

But the world didn’t wait for him and his thoughts. Mary was already dragging him away, leading him towards the tapestry that hung a little ways down the corridor. Once they ducked behind it, she pulled him down onto the cold steps of the stairwell and turned to face him. 

“How was your date?” she asked, fiddling with her hands. There was an expression on her face that Sirius couldn’t quite place—was Mary nervous?

“Yeah, good. Went well,” he said, watching her, curiously. 

“Good. Certainly seemed like it,” she laughed, raising her eyebrows, suggestively.

“Heh- yeah.” He knew how it had looked, walking out of the bathroom together. He hadn’t intended for it to appear that way—they really had only snogged each other, for the most part. 

“Anyway…look, there’s something I wanted to say. I know this isn’t great timing and I understand if you don’t feel that way, but recently I kind of have had…feelings for you.”

“You what?!” Sirius yelled, louder than he had meant to. His voice echoed up the stairwell behind them. “I mean—you what?” he asked, whispering this time. 

Mary chuckled, softly. “I know, I know, it’s a bit out of the blue. That’s my bad. Anyway,” she said, again, standing up. “Just thought I’d get that out there.”

Sirius nodded, still dumbstruck. 

Mary just smiled. “So. If you did want to go out sometime, you know where to find me.” She placed her hands on her hips in a self-assured gesture. “I won’t wait though, Black, so don’t take too long.” She winked at him, before slipping back through the tapestry. Trust Mary to know he’d need time to process.

Once her footsteps had faded away, Sirius let out a long sigh, dropping his head into his hands. When would anything start making sense?

****

Remus was truly and thoroughly losing it. He walked down the corridors feeling an overwhelming urge to kick something, ready to snap at the first person who crossed his path. Merlin, he needed to get a grip. 

What had he been thinking, sharing all of that with Sirius? His own words echoed in his head, ‘I fucking fancy someone so pathetically that it makes me want to rip my own hair out.’ Oh God, oh Merlin, why the fuck would he say something like that. He truly did want to pull out his hair at the thought. Sirius must’ve thought he was crazy. He clearly hadn't a clue what to say. 

A horrible thought occurred to Remus then, causing him to narrowly miss the trick step on the third–floor staircase. What if Sirius knew that Remus fancied him? What if it was all an act and he was feigning ignorance to keep the awkwardness at bay? What if he had picked up on all of Remus’ hints but had been too uncomfortable to say anything?

Someone kill me now, he thought, miserably. Either way, Remus was a complete fool. 

And on top of everything, now there was Mary. Remus hadn’t forgotten what Lily had said to him after the quidditch match a few weeks back, and he certainly hadn’t missed the flirty way Mary had addressed Sirius only moments before. So he supposed he hadn’t been the only one jealous that afternoon. He, however, was the only one who couldn’t do anything about it. 

Mary was confident; she usually got what or who she wanted—Remus had always admired that about her. So he knew there was very little he could do if Mary had set her mind on Sirius. 

 He clearly needed to rethink a lot of things. First of all, his plan. Yeah, that needed to go straight down the gutter. It was pointless, he could see that now. No, now he had a new plan, and that was to let himself down. Hard. 

This tactic involved a bit less avoidance than his previous attempts to get over Sirius. Instead, he would let Sirius shove his hookups or relationships or dates—whatever they may be—right in his face. He would watch them all unfold, really let them sink in. Would it be painful? Yes. But sometimes, only the painful option possessed enough kick to be effective. 

When Remus found himself on the steps to the owlery, watching as the owls came and went, he had the strangest desire to run away. He had never felt that before; Hogwarts was the only real home he had known, and the idea of leaving had always filled him with dread for the summers. Yet, in that moment, he longed to escape, to forget everything that had come to matter to him—the things that were too good to be true, the things he didn’t deserve—until nothing felt so important, so detrimental. Until Sirius’ voice and his scent and his presence weren’t so etched into the forefront of Remus’ mind.

That’s when it hit him. Grant. He needed to talk to someone from the outside world, someone who knew nothing of this version of him—of the werewolf, of magic or his friends. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of him sooner and instantly felt sorry—he hadn’t sent Grant a postcard since Christmas. 

Feeling around in his pockets, he pulled out a spare bit of parchment and a pen. After scribbling off a short note, he attached it to a sturdy-looking owl with dark, speckled feathers. Stepping up to lean out of the nearest window, Remus let out a breath and watched as the owl climbed higher and higher into the darkening sky until it was lost to the night. 

All he had to do now was wait. 

****

“Hey Prongs, can I borrow your cloak?”

Sirius looked up from the armchair where he was sitting braiding Marlene’s hair, Marlene lounging in front of him on the carpet. Remus had leaned into James’ side and was speaking in a low voice, clearly trying to prevent the other’s from overhearing. Sitting forward in his chair, Sirius strained his ears. 

“Sure, Moony. What for?” James asked, using the same quiet tone.

“Just… something,” Remus responded, bouncing his leg and twirling his wand around his fingers in a repetitive motion. “Nothing exciting,” he added in response to James’ inquiring look.

“Yeah, and my mum loves me,” Sirius interjected before he could stop himself. 

Both boys looked over. Remus heaved a great sigh of disdain.

“Mate,” James said to him, raising his eyebrows the slightest bit as if to say, now’s not the time. We’re trying to be subtle.

Sirius squinted his eyes. Yeah, but you know it’s true. 

James jerked his head. Yeah, yeah, we all know that. Just control yourself; the others can’t know about the cloak.

“As fun as it is watching your twin flame telepathy, can we continue this conversation out loud?” Mary said from beside Sirius–she had perched herself on the armrest of his chair to oversee the hair-braiding process. 

“Sorry,” James said, smiling his usual tooth-rottingly sweet smile. He nodded at Moony, who got up and left without another word.

If Remus took the map too so as to prevent Sirius from stalking him, they would be having words, Sirius thought as he watched him go. 

“Black,” Marlene tilted her head to look up at him. “Can we continue? I have places to be, people to see.”

“Right. On it,” Sirius said, collecting up the strands of blonde hair he had let fall in his distraction. 

Mary tutted, “I think you’re going to have to restart.”

“Right away, Madame,” Sirius said. “Montre moi. Je suis à ton service...”

“Oh, tu sais vraiment comment charmer les dames toi !” Mary responded, giggling.

Sirius winked at her, “Voyons ma mie, tu es la seule et l'unique.”

Mary blushed, giving his shoulder a light shove.

“Okay, if you guys are flirting in Spanish again I’m leaving,” Peter said, having just sat down on the sofa opposite them.

“It’s French, you idiot,” Mary said, tossing a pillow at him.

“That’s what I meant!”

“Well, what? Would you rather it in English?” she shot back. As they spoke, she slid her leg slowly over Sirius’ until it was resting over his lap. 

Sirius swallowed, trying to focus on the conversation. 

They had spent quite a bit of time together in the past week, since their conversation in the stairwell. After his confusion had cleared and he had time to think about this new development, Sirius had realised he was quite open to the idea. They hadn’t gone on a date, per se, but they had studied in the library together and skived off class a couple times to hang out in the dorm. It was fun, having someone to flirt with without all of the expectations a girl would usually have for him. He didn’t have to meet her friends or walk her to class or buy her fancy rubbish; Mary didn’t seem bothered with all of that nonsense. Besides, they were friends with all the same people. It just worked.

Sirius had wondered if Remus would have a problem with Mary as he had had with Ruby, but things had been mostly back to normal after their encounter in the corridor. Mostly. Whatever their normal was—or if they even had one—Sirius wasn’t sure. He still felt the distance like a constant stomach ache.

But it didn’t matter as much to Remus. He was more worried about his secret crush, some girl he believed would never like him back. That was fine. Sirius had grown accustomed to his indifference, he had learned to handle the confusion. Maybe this was how it would always be. Maybe Moony would always be a mystery. Maybe Sirius would never understand him or what Remus wanted from him. 

That was fine. It was all very fine.

****

Closing the door to the phone booth, Remus pulled off the invisibility cloak and picked up the phone. The trek down to Hogsmeade had been uneventful. He had waited until after nine o’clock, long after Honeydukes had closed, and then quickly snuck down the passageway behind the one-eyed witch statue as they had done countless times before. Sneaking out alone was much easier than sneaking out accompanied by the other Marauders.

The phone rang twice before it was picked up. There was some shuffling, a static-y noise and then a familiar voice with a strong, Cockney accent rang through, “Remus? You there?”

“Grant! Hi,” Remus said, feeling a smile instantly spread across his face. 

“Christ, ‘ello posh boy,” Grant said, in an attempt to imitate him. “Y'alright?”

“Yeah, fine. You? How’s everything at the home?”

“Eh, not great. But not bad either.”

“Why, what’s been going on?”

“Ah, you know. Jus’ the usual. Matron keeps takin’ the piss out on me.”

“Right,” Remus said, trying not to let the concern slip into his voice. His breath had already fogged up the phone box, and he unconsciously began to trace circles on the glass with his finger. 

“But enough about me. How’s posh school treatin’ ya?” Grant said. 

“Oh yeah, it’s fine. Good, I mean.”

“Jus’ fine?” 

“Well, I–” Remus started. “It’s–”

But Grant interrupted, “Oh god, it’s a bloke, innit.”

Remus had forgotten how easily Grant saw straight through him. For all the people he hid things from and all the secrets he had, Remus had never been able to pretend with Grant. It was the reason he felt so much trust with him, he thought—why they had so easily built a friendship. 

“Yeah…”

Grant paused and for a moment Remus worried that he wasn’t the right person to go to about this. 

“Nice chap, is ‘e? Real sweet to ya?” Grant said then. 

“Uh, not really.”

“Sounds about right,” he chuckled. 

“Sorry, is this weird?” Remus blurted out. 

“Nah, don’t flatter yourself. It’s alright.”

“Okay. Sorry,” Remus sighed, cheeks warming. 

“Christ, don’t worry yourself, love. You’ve gotten too polite for your own good.”

Remus laughed, releasing a breath.

“So, is ‘e one of your mates?”

“Yeah,” Remus sighed. “He’s–well, he’s one of my best friends.”

“You fancy him a lot then?”

“Too much,” Remus whispered, gripping the phone with both hands like it was a lifeline. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Bloody hell. I’m guessing ‘e doesn’t know?”

“I– I don’t know. I don’t think so. I tried to tell him, but–”

“With words?”

“No, I tried to drop hints.”

“Shit,” Grant sighed. “What kind of hints?”

“Erm…well, I– just– not very good ones,” Remus said, neck prickling with embarrassment. They really had been quite pitiful attempts. 

“He prob’ly doesn’t know then.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Grant made everything feel simpler. Remus wished he hadn’t waited so long to call. 

“There a chance he's like us?” Grant asked. “Has ‘e…done anything to make you think he is anyway?”

“Erm, kind of. But it might be all in my head.”

“Let’s hear it then.”

“Well…” Remus hesitated. It felt a bit odd finally saying it out loud. “His brother said something to him once–something about how he’s not fooling people with all the girls he hangs around and that he’s gonna lose all his friends if they find out.”

“His brother sounds like a real charmer.”

“Oh yeah, he’s lovely.” Remus felt a spike of anger at the thought. “So I don’t know if he was just being a prick or if what he said actually meant something. I didn’t hear the whole conversation.”

Grant paused, thinking. Remus held his breath. “I’d say there’s a chance, but you can’t really know for sure either way,” he said, finally. “It’s risky.”

Remus tried to ignore the way his heart pounded at that, the feeble flicker of hope rekindling in his chest. “Yeah, guess you can’t. And now he’s back to dating girls.”

“Back?”

“Well, he took a break or something, I don’t know. Hadn’t seen him with one in a while, and now all of a sudden he’s going out with them again.”

“Ah. Sorry Remus. That’s gotta’ hurt.”

“Yeah,” was all he said in response, heart sinking again.

He walked more slowly on the way back to the castle, feeling both lighter and heavier all at once. Upon returning to the common room, he found several of their friends still lounging by the fire. Sirius was not among them. Neither was Mary. 

Not feeling in the mood to talk more, Remus headed up the stairs before anyone could call him over. He was looking forward to his bed, to burying himself deep in his blankets and not resurfacing for a long while. 

Apparently, the universe had other plans for him. 

When he opened the door he found his path blocked. Standing there with his black hair dripping wet, sporting red and gold pyjama bottoms and, to Remus’ horror, nothing else, was Sirius. One hand rested on his hip, while the other clutched the map, which he pointed at Remus as the door closed. 

“Where the bloody hell have you been?” 

 “Out,” Remus responded. His eyes, of their own accord, fixated on a droplet of water running down Sirius’ chest.

“Out where?” Sirius demanded.

“Does it matter?” he asked, which was a stupid question because it clearly mattered to Sirius.

“Why didn’t you invite us to go with you to Hogsmeade?” Sirius stepped forward, flicking the map against Remus' chest in irritation.

Remus looked up. “Have you been stalking me?”

“Why yes, I have, Moony. I’m not ashamed. So there’s no point in avoiding it. Fess up.”

“None of your business. Especially seeing as you looked at the map instead of just asking me like a normal person.”

“Yeah, well, you left me no choice. You didn’t tell James, so I didn’t expect you to tell me either.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “That’s bollocks, and you know it.”

“Fine,” Sirius said, shrugging. “Fine. I guess, I…”

When had his shoulders started to look like that? How was his skin so smooth? Remus didn’t even care about their fight; he just wanted to look at him, wanted to kiss the soft skin over his collarbone, wanted to trace his lips down the planes of his stomach, wanted to–

“What? Have I got something on me?” Sirius asked, looking down at himself.

“I– what?” Remus asked, a bit dazed.

“Why are you staring?”

To say or not to say. To say or not. To say–

“Do I need a reason?” Remus asked. “Either put a shirt on or deal with it.” 

Sirius blinked. Sirius wasn’t saying anything. Sirius was staring at him, eyes wide. 

Bloody hell, Godric Gryffindor, Merlin ball’s on a stick, why oh why the fuck–

“Fair enough,” Sirius said then, shrugging again. Fair enough? Fair enough?!

What in the world did that mean?

“So?” Sirius’ voice broke through his thoughts. “What were you doing?”

“In Hogsmeade?”

“Yes, in Hogsmeade,” Sirius rolled his eyes, taking another step closer. “I’m not gonna drop it until you tell me.”

Despite Remus’ reluctance to give in to Sirius’ pestering, he found he wasn’t bothered enough to withhold the answer. “I was calling someone.” Or perhaps he simply needed this moment to end, so those grey eyes would stop boring into him, making him feel weak and unstable. So he wouldn’t be so tempted to glance down at Sirius´ lips, just inches away, like he was doing right now. Who the bloody hell stands that close?

“Calling who?”

“A friend.”

“From St. Edmunds?”

“Yeah,” Remus said, voice coming out much too breathless for his liking.

“Is this perhaps a friend who you snog sometimes?” Sirius asked, fiddling with his rings, and it wasn’t attractive. It really wasn’t.

Remus’ back was to the wall, Sirius’ bed to his left and the door to his right. No one puts Remus Lupin in a corner , he reminded himself, to no avail. Grant had said that to him once. It must’ve been a lie, because Remus let them. He let them all the time. 

“So what if it is?” he answered finally.

“Aha!” Sirius exclaimed, triumphantly, as if he had solved some great mystery. “So this is who’s got you all starry-eyed.”

Remus didn’t even bother to deny it. It was all useless, futile, pointless. Don’t you see? he wanted to say. You’re the bloody star.

Instead of answering, he put a hand on Sirius’ shoulder, pushing him back a step. “Christ, Black. Have you ever heard of personal space?”

“In fact, I haven’t,” Sirius said, glancing down quickly at Remus’ hand before looking back at him with a determined look in his eye. “How else am I to intimidate people into submission?”

Remus scoffed, finally moving past him. “Ha, oh yeah, you definitely do that.” Then he locked himself in the bathroom before Sirius could say another word.

Leaning back against the door, he put his hand on his heart and took several deep breaths. Fair enough. Fair enough! How was he ever to get over Sirius when he said things like that?

He was teasing him, that's what it was. Taunting him. Merlin, if Sirius knew how Remus felt, it would be downright cruel. Regardless of that possibility, Remus couldn’t stop himself from making a list. It was the only way he knew how to deal with the turmoil Sirius was causing in his heart. 

What someone might mean by saying “fair enough” in response to admitting you were ogling them:

1. Fair enough because I also have stared at blokes without their shirts on before. 
2. Fair enough because I am super attractive, so I don’t blame you. 
3. Fair enough because I’ve stared at you before like you are staring at me now. 
4. I’m saying fair enough because I have nothing better to say and I feel uncomfortable.

Remus sighed, knocking his head back against the door in disbelief of himself. Who was he kidding? It was clearly option 2, or possibly–please let it not be–option 4. Here he was again, blowing everything out of proportion.

Notes:

sorry if the French is bad ahah I am merely a Canadian who's forgotten everything they've learned

Chapter 16: sixteen, sour or sweet?

Summary:

Moony's 16th Birthday ;)

I want you to see, how you look to me

You wouldn’t believe if I told ya

You would keep the compliments I throw ya

But you’re so full of shit, tell me it’s a bit

Say you don’t see it, your mind’s polluted

Say you wanna quit, don’t be stupid

~Billie Eilish (BIRDS OF A FEATHER)

 

Before Remus knew it, March had come around, and with it, his birthday. For Remus, his birthday had always been just another day, something to mark the years by, and certainly nothing to get excited about. But that had changed with the Marauders. Now he almost looked forward to it, despite the Great Hall singalongs and the unnecessary attention. 

Remus’ sixteenth birthday was no different. He still didn’t want anyone to make a fuss and made it clear that he neither expected, nor wished for an extravagant party. As hard as James and Sirius found it to understand, he didn’t care much for large crowds or parties with people he barely knew. All he wanted was a quiet night with his friends.

Knowing James and Sirius, however, he fully expected his wishes to be ignored, as they had been the previous year. But when the night of his birthday came and nothing seemed to be happening–no funny business, whispering, or sneaking around–he wondered if they had actually listened to him. 

After dinner, they all crashed on their separate beds, content to do their own thing for a while–apart from Sirius, who was God knows where. Remus didn’t really have much to do, having spent so much time on homework in the past weeks as he tried to distract himself from the pain of being utterly enamoured by his best friend. Still, he pulled out his History of Magic textbook and flipped to a random page, deciding to brush up on the material from last term. 

After 10 minutes of lying on his stomach, Remus’ back began to ache. He propped his pillows against his bed frame and picked up where he had left off. It was quiet, eerily quiet. That was, until James grew bored, evident by the bouncing of his leg and the random noises he was making. Remus glanced over, not wanting to be rude but also needing him to get the message. 

It took a few minutes of pointed staring before James noticed. “Sorry, Moony. Was I doing it again?” he asked cheerfully.

The room returned to silence and Remus to his textbook. Not five minutes later, the sound of chewing broke the peace. Peter was eating some sort of candy bar, but for all the noise he was making, it could’ve been a bag of carrots; the sound was magnified in the stillness of the room. Remus ground his teeth together and forced himself to keep reading. He made it halfway through the summary of the 15th goblin rebellion before he slammed the book shut.

“Will you stop that?” he practically yelled.

“What?” Peter said, his mouth full.

“That chewing. You sound like a bloody rabbit.”

Peter stilled, a look of hurt appearing on his face. “Fine. Sorry,” he said, looking down at his lap. 

Remus stood up, not in the mood to apologise, and made his way to the door.

“Wait! Where are you going?” James asked, scrambling after him.

“For a walk.”

“Don’t you want to hang out?”

“Not really,” Remus responded harshly, before slamming the door. No one followed him. 

He slowed his pace once he had exited the common room, walking with no real destination in mind. After a few minutes, he stopped, leaning back against the wall. Peter hadn’t deserved that—whether it had been true or not. He wasn’t the reason for his outburst; he had just been the final straw that led to it. As usual, it was Sirius. It was always Sirius wasn’t it? 

Because if Remus were honest, all he wanted for his birthday was to spend an hour with him. 

But here he was instead, wondering why, after all this time. Why it still hurt so much. Why he was still holding out hope. And why, after all the hope and pain went to waste and he received nothing in return, did he know with a startling clarity that it wouldn’t matter. 

Deep down, Remus knew. He had always known, really. That was love. Remus had been falling in love with Sirius Black since the day they met. If Remus knew nothing else, he knew that. 

****

When Remus ran into Lily on her evening rounds, he didn’t think much of it. Although it wasn’t her night to patrol, nor her usual floor, she often volunteered for extra shifts–Lily took prefect duties very seriously, driven by her fierce passion for bossing others around. Remus had been wandering aimlessly somewhere on the fifth floor when she spotted him as he rounded a corner. He almost considered booking it in the opposite direction, but he knew better than to run from Lily Evans.

“Remus!” she called, waving, her cheeks flushed, and he would’ve bet 5 galleons she had just finished reprimanding someone. “How’s the birthday boy?”

When she caught up to him, she grabbed his arm. “Come on. You can keep me company while I patrol.” 

Not daring to argue, Remus let her pull him along. 

“So, what are you doing here all by your lonesome?” she asked.

“Nothin,’” he mumbled. “Just bored.”

“Well, thank God we ran into each other then,” she said, grinning at him. 

“Yeah, thank God.”

They continued walking, making their way up into the easterly part of the castle where expansive windows offered views of the many surrounding mountains. It wasn’t until ten minutes later, when they passed the Divination classroom, that Remus started feeling suspicious.

“Lily,” he asked. “Where are you even supposed to be patrolling today?”

“Right around here, mostly. I had to cover a couple floors because Eloise White is sick.” 

“Don’t you have extras for that?” He tried to get a look at her expression, but her hair had fallen from behind her ear, covering half of her face. 

“Lil–”

A loud crash from above, followed by muffled shouts, interrupted him.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” she said, turning in the direction of the sound and yanking Remus with her. 

“Do I have to?” Remus huffed, rubbing his arm as he followed. 

She gave him a hard, exasperated look that left no room for argument, and he shut his mouth.

As they emerged onto the next corridor, it became clear the commotion was coming from the Astronomy Tower. 

“What on Earth are they doing up there,” Lily tsked, disbelievingly. “I’m really not in the mood for this today.”

“C’mon, you know you love the mystery,” Remus said as they began climbing the spiral staircase. 

“Oh I do, but if it’s a bunch of Slytherins causing havoc, I am going to lose it.”

Remus did not doubt that she would. “Yeah, I don’t really fancy a chat with Snivelous for my birthday.”

Lily made a small sound in her throat, and Remus realised his mistake, “I mean–sorry, Snape–”

“It’s fine,” she said quietly, picking up her pace. 

“Wait,” Remus gasped. “I’m not-  athletically-  inclined- like you are.”

Finally, they reached the top of the staircase and emerged into the lower area of the tower. Remus paused to catch his breath. 

It was silent for a moment, and then the sound of shattering glass echoed from the upper floor. 

“Wormtail!” hissed a voice.

Remus turned slowly to face Lily, raising an eyebrow. She gave him a guilty smile and shrugged, gesturing for him to go on. 

Remus shook his head and climbed the final staircase, sliding his hand along the metal railing as he went. He blinked at the sudden light as he came up through the floor, looking around as several people jumped out at him, shouting, “Happy Birthday, Remus!”

To one side stood a table laden with food, drinks, and a wide variety of chocolates. Blankets and pillows were strewn about on the floor, and a string of lights adorned the walls. Remus found each one of his friends' faces, all smiling excitedly: Peter, James, Mary, Marlene, and Sirius. Sirius was there, shining like the star he was named for, blinding Remus more than any light ever could. 

He didn’t know what to say. 

As if someone had read his mind, ‘Diamond Dogs’ came on, and the awkwardness he felt dissipated with the music. “I can’t believe– When did you–?” Remus began. “You even brought the record player!” he said, looking at James, who was laying out the vinyls on a second table Remus hadn’t noticed. 

“‘Course we did, mate.” James said. “What? You think we don’t know you or something?”

“Yeah, it’s Moony's birthday. That would be like… like Christmas without a Christmas Tree!” declared Peter. “ Tergeo,” he added, pointing his wand at the drink he had evidently spilled before.

“So, did we surprise ya, Moony?” Sirius asked, bounding up to him. “Here. Have this,” he added, shoving a bar of chocolate into one of Remus’ hands and a glass of firewhisky into the other.

“I– yeah!” Remus responded. “I had no idea. Well– except for when Pete…” he gestured to where Peter was repairing the bottle, its shards having scattered across the floor.

“Yeah…” Sirius said, shooting the other boy a glare before turning back to Remus. To be fair, Remus thought, if Sirius hadn’t spoken Wormtail’s name aloud, he likely wouldn’t have known who it was—but he kept that to himself.

Lily came up behind them, Marlene and Mary in tow. “So, how’d I do?” she asked.

“Not bad, not bad. You’re a pretty good actress,” Remus said, smirking at her.

Lily beamed and nudged Sirius. “Hey, that was perfect timing with the commotion, by the way.”

“Oh yeah?” he said, looking pleased with himself.

“Hah– yeah, he was totally onto me for a second there too.”

“So, wait,” Remus said suddenly. “Was that the whole plan all along? Were you trying to get me to leave the dorm?”

“Yup,” James grinned, coming over to join them. “And it turned out to be pretty easy too.”

“The chewing was a good touch, right?” Peter said.

Remus cringed. “Oh… yeah, sorry about that, Pete.”

“Nahh, he had it coming to him. I told him to chew extra loud ‘cause I know you hate that,” Sirius said, a devilish smile playing on his lips. They’re eyes locked for a moment, and Remus tried not to feel as if time were freezing as it always did when Sirius looked at him.

James sidled up to Sirius and threw an arm around his neck. “Yep, Padfoot here’s the brains behind the whole operation.”

“It was a joint effort,” Sirius insisted quickly. 

James shook his head, jabbing his thumb in Sirius’ direction. “All him,” he mouthed at Remus.

Remus' chest filled with warmth, the words ‘all him’ beating in time with his heart. He tried to meet Sirius’ eye again, but he turned away and went to grab a drink before Remus got the chance.

****

“Fancy a game?” Mary asked the room at large.

“Ooh, yes!” James exclaimed, immediately dragging her and Marlene down onto the floor and motioning for everyone to join. “Padfoot, come join the circle. Evans! Moony! Pete! Come!”

“He certainly seems to be feeling the liquor,” Sirius said to Mary, as he let her pull him down next to her. 

“Are you not?” she asked in mock surprise.

“Oh, no, I am,” he grinned, raising his third glass in salute and tipping it back. His limbs were feeling quite loose and floppy.

The others came to join as well, and Sirius patted the empty space on his left, indicating for Moony to sit next to him. Lily plopped down on Moony’s other side, with Peter beside her.

“What game do you reckon?” Peter asked once they were all comfortable. 

“Truth or dare?” Marlene suggested. She was giggling already. 

“Noo, not that again,” Sirius begged, leaning into Mary’s shoulder to hide. Loud, red warning bells were going off in his head as he recalled the last time they had played truth or dare.

“I would be inclined to agree… But,” Mary pushed Sirius off her, “I’m just dying to see you four make fools of yourself again.” She pointed at each of the boys in turn, a mischievous glint in her eye. It was bound to be an interesting night.

“Alright,” James sighed, leaning back into the pillows behind him. “Have at me. I’m an open book.”

“Nuh-uh,” Lily said, shaking her finger at him. “You don’t get off that easily. You’re doing a dare.”

James smiled at her, an entranced sort of look appearing on his face. “Fine, do what you want with me. I don’t mind.”

Sirius put his head in his hands for a moment, chuckling, “Someone give James a slap for me, please.”

“And me,” Remus added.

They shared a glance. Moony’s mouth tugged up at the corner in amusement, his lips stained from his drink. Okay, that’s long enough, Sirius told himself. Look away now. 

His body didn’t listen. ‘Rebel Rebel’ came on the speakers and Moony began bobbing his head along with the beat. Sirius copied him. 

“Someone give Sirius a slap for me,” Marlene said, loudly. 

Sirius jerked his head up at that. “What did I do?” 

Marlene just shrugged. “Well, you’re certainly not innocent, are you?”

He gasped, indignant, and looked back at Remus. “Do you know what I’ve done, Moons?” 

Remus’ eyes were narrowed, but this time their scrutiny was directed at Marlene. “Can’t imagine,” he said slowly. “You do lots of stupid things.” 

“Okay, well, I’ll start us off then,” Sirius said. “Marlene, truth or dare.”

“Dare.”

“I dare you to tell me what I did this time.”

Marlene shook her head and grabbed one of the bottles of firewhisky from the middle of the circle. “‘Fraid I can’t,” she said, taking a large gulp.

“Well, I never!” Sirius pouted, crossing his arms.

“There, there,” Mary said, patting him on the arm. “Don’t fret, dear. Just do better next time.”

“But I don’t know what I did!”

“Oh, calm down already. I was just joking,” Marlene said, rolling her eyes. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius could see Moony still watching her, but the game continued on, and so, instead of wondering if it really had meant something, Sirius moved on as well.

“Lily, what’s your type? What kind of blokes do you fancy,” Marlene asked next.

James sat bolt upright, coughing slightly as he readjusted.

“Ooh, um,” Lily straightened as well. “I’m not picky, really.”

“HA!” Mary guffawed. 

“What?” Lily asked her.

“That is the biggest lie you’ve ever told,” she said, matter-of-factly. 

“What? No, it’s not! My preferences are very diverse.”

Mary giggled again, and it seemed like there was some sort of inside joke going on that no one else understood. “Well, that’s true,” she said, then motioned for Lily to continue.

Lily humphed, cheeks visibly pink, but relented. “He has to be smart, but not arrogant,” she looked pointedly at James at this. “And also confident, but not narcissistic. And he can't be obnoxiously loud.”

Sirius whistled. “He sounds like a real catch.” He pitied the bloke who fell for her. In other words, he pitied James, who was staring down at the drink in his hand, looking quite put out. Poor, poor Prongs. 

“Yes. Anyways, it’s Remus’ birthday. I think it’s his turn now,” Lily said, throwing her hand up to indicate in Remus’ direction. “Remus,” she said to him. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” he said immediately.

“I dare you… to chug the rest of this bottle,” Lily said, holding up one of the bottles of firewhisky. It was only about a quarter full, but surely enough to get Moony from a bit tipsy to properly pissed. Sirius dreaded to think how he would do if he was made to drink all of that liquor–or more accurately, what he’d do.

But Remus just shrugged, taking the bottle from Lily and bringing it to his lips. “Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!” They all began chanting until he slammed the bottle down, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. 

“Moony! You’re gonna make me swoon,” Sirius said, placing his hand on his forehead and falling into him.

Remus laughed, but didn’t push him away. “Better take notes, Mary,” he said, cheekily. Clearly, the drink had hit both of them very quickly.

Remus was warm, and he smelled good, like burnt sugar and chocolate, and his jumper was soft and Sirius– Sirius wouldn’t have minded if Remus had put his arm around him just this once and drew him just a little bit closer. Because– because–

Because someone had stolen all of his pillows.

Sirius sat up, shoving thoughts of Remus far far away. He snatched a soft, brown pillow from Mary, who already had more than her share, and positioned it behind himself. Belatedly, he realised that probably hadn’t been a very gentlemanly thing to do. 

Mary had recently come to him with an ultimatum, and in doing so had ruined their perfect arrangement, leaving Sirius to overthink the majority of their interactions. It seemed that things were not as he had thought, and that Mary did in fact care about all of the pointless crap that he’d assumed didn’t matter to her. This meant she expected him to treat her like a lady (her words, not his).

Sirius had come back with the brilliant response of, “What the bloody hell does that mean?” to which she had simply regarded him with that unimpressed look she often gave him when he did something especially stupid, and said, “You have a brain, Black. Use it.”

When he had failed to follow that request, Mary then told Sirius, point-blank, that if he didn’t ask her to be his girlfriend by Thursday, she would find someone who would. That had been Tuesday, leaving him now with one day to figure out what to do. And what it was that he wanted.

Unfortunately, Sirius didn’t have a clue. So, instead of reflecting, he had made the logical decision to get pissed on his best friend’s birthday. With any luck, the alcohol would scramble his brain up enough to find the pieces that had gone missing and put them back together. 

He would soon realise, however, that those pieces had been buried for a reason.

Notes:

-sorry to leave ya hanging, but I still have a lot more to write so I thought I'd give you the first half now!!
-I can't believe how perfectly that lined up, chapter 16 and our moony turns 16 hehe
-also I accidentally reminded myself of the goblet of fire when it says, "Wormtail!" hissed a voice. Creepy Voldy lol.

Chapter 17: guilty as sin?

Summary:

realisations and regret

I dream of cracking locks 

Throwing my life to the wolves or the ocean rocks

Crashing into him tonight, he’s a paradox

I’m seeing visions, am I bad?

Or mad? Or wise?

~Taylor Swift (Guilty as Sin?)

 

As the night of Moony’s birthday wore on, Sirius felt himself losing more and more control. Not only was that control slipping away, but also his will to keep it.

It started with his first truth, something he should have anticipated—and he had, hadn’t he? But something about the alcohol spreading through his system and Moony’s lingering gaze convinced him he was invincible. So he chose truth, prompting Mary to ask a harmless, little question which, in turn, set off an irreversible chain of events.

“If you had to choose, who would you say is the hottest ‘Marauder’?” she said, lifting her fingers to form air quotes around the word Marauder—an offence in itself.

Sirius smirked, opening his mouth to respond–

“And you can’t pick yourself,” Mary interrupted.

“Bullocks,” he said. “You know me too well.” What kind of question was that? Shouldn’t she be asking one of the girls? He didn’t look at blokes that way and she knew it. 

Still, he knew what the answer should be. What everyone else would say. “Fine, okay it’s Moony, obviously.”

“Padfoot??” James reached across the circle, grabbing Sirius’ hands with a feigned look of desperation. “How could you?!”

“It’s the truth. I’m deeply sorry, mate,” Sirius said, nodding solemnly. He didn’t look at Remus, but he felt the weight of his gaze searing into him. He found himself backtracking before he could stop. “Nah, don’t let Mary tear you down. She’s wrong. Each and every one of you is just as magnificent as the next.”

Sirius winked at James, holding up his hand and forcing him to return his fist-bump. Then he did the same to Pete across the circle as Mary protested. “Pete, you beauty,” he smirked, ignoring her, and praying they’d move on. His insides crawled with unexplainable nerves—he had no idea where they had come from. 

So he dared James to do the first thing that came to mind, which happened to be a poetic reading of “You Really Got Me” by The Kinks. Not his most creative dare, but it got the job done. Peter followed with a declaration of love to Marlene’s pinky toe, and then Marlene was made to cradle James in her arms for a whole round, pretending he was her 9-month-old baby. By the time it was back to Sirius, he was gasping for breath, his stomach aching; he hadn’t laughed that hard in a long time. 

This time he chose dare, hoping to get something that didn’t leave him feeling so– prickly. 

“I dare you to flirt with Remus,” Evans declared, proudly. “And James gets to instruct you.”

Peter released a surprised laugh, and Marlene let out a tiny squeak that was very unlike her. Meanwhile, James jumped up, hollering “YES! My time has finally come!”

Sirius was…processing. This could be a good laugh, he supposed. He could continue his role of the dashing Marauder who did idiotic things to amuse his friends. He could do that. He was brilliant at flirting, after all, so that was no problem.

Sirius shrugged. “Why the fuck not.”

Adjusting his position, he turned to face Moony, who was sitting almost rigidly and staring at Sirius with wide eyes. 

“Relax Moony. Just enjoy the experience,” he said, smirking. 

“Oh I’ll try,” Remus said weakly. 

“Alright, Prongs. What shall you have me do first?”

“Say hello. Show us what you’ve got,” James said, standing with his hands on his hips. 

“Yes sir,” Sirius said, saluting him. He gave Remus a soft smile, blinking up at him through his eyelashes. “Hey Moons,” he said, sweetly, drawing out his name. 

Remus cleared his throat. “Yes. Err…hey.”

“I hope I don’t charm you too much. Can’t have you falling in love with me, now can we?” 

“No, that would be…bad,” Remus said, a frown creasing his perfect face. Sirius wanted to reach up and smooth it away. A second later, it occurred to him that he could. And what a relief that was.

He lifted his hand, and Remus jerked back on instinct. “Don’t worry, Moonbeam. I’m not gonna hurt you,” he teased. This time, when he reached up to press his thumb between Remus’ brows, Remus let him. Gently, he smoothed the frown away with a few careful strokes. 

“Damn, you don’t even need me here, do you?” James said from above them. Sirius didn’t look up. They were too busy staring each other down. 

Sirius cleared his throat, but his words still came out quieter than he meant for them to. “Nope. You know my flirting skills could save lives. Alright. What now?” 

“Now…” James said. “Scoot in a bit closer.”

Sirius did, shifting until their knees were touching. He got the feeling Remus would have preferred he moved further away.

“Now, look him up and down.”

Sirius was looking. He examined Moony’s face, those soft, brown eyes that pierced to the very core, cheekbones that could cut glass, pillow-soft lips... He followed the faint line of scars down the side of Remus’ neck, the shape of his shoulders outlined beneath the fabric of his sweater. 

“Now whisper sweet nothings in his ear,” James said. Oh, he was enjoying this. It seemed, so were the others; Sirius could hear them giggling quietly, but he didn’t look over. 

Sirius leaned forward, resting one hand on the ground for support and cupping the other in front of Moony’s ear. He tilted his head in close, brushing up against Remus, and whispered, “You’re lovely, Moony.”

Sirius felt the shudder that passed through Remus’ body, and a sudden thrill ran through his own. When he drew back and their eyes met, his breath caught in his throat. The look on Remus’ face was so raw, so intense—the moment was so brief Sirius almost thought he’d imagined it, for then he blinked, and it was gone, replaced by a much softer, carefree one. 

“You really are good at this,” Remus said. “I almost get why the girls go so mad for you. Almost,” he joked, cracking a smile. 

Sirius didn’t feel like smiling. An uncomfortable heat curled up his neck, and he felt all wrong inside. He had done the dare, so why did he– why was he– 

“I told you,” he forced out in response. 

“More,” James demanded. “I know you’ve got millions of compliments up your sleeve.”

Sirius sighed, shaking his head. “Nothing is ever enough for you, Prongs.” He leaned in again; Remus leaned in too this time. 

Heart pounding, he spoke low into Moony’s ear, one hand now resting on his shoulder. “I meant what I said, you know. You’re the prettiest in all the land. And… and if I were a girl, I’m sure I’d be madly in love with you.”

“Sure, and if you were a girl maybe you’d have half a brain, and we could go gallivanting off into the sunset together,” Remus said roughly. 

“Moony!” Sirius clutched his heart. “How can you say such things?”

“How do you?” Remus asked, and this– this felt real. His frown was back, real anger evident on his face. Sirius could see it. But why?

They turned back to their audience and were met with amused grins, all of whom burst into applause. Mary wolf-whistled loudly. 

“What’d he say, what’d he say?” asked Marlene, practically bouncing in her seat.

“Now that, Mckinnon, is between me and Moony here,” Sirius said before Remus could say anything. He might have died of embarrassment if they heard the stupid things he had come up with. He already was. 

“How do you feel, Moony?” James asked, looking extremely smug, clearly pleased with his work. 

“Very charmed. I’m afraid it’s a lost cause,” Remus replied stiffly. “Now get away from me, Padfoot,” he playfully shoved Sirius by the shoulder. It was all very contradictory; his words and his body language didn’t line up, and Sirius was– he was drowning .

“I’m going, I’m going.” Sirius reminded himself to smile. He stood up, struggling to find his balance for a second, before heading over to the drinks table. His fingers shook slightly as he poured himself another glass. Could they see through him? Could they see what it had meant?

Nothing! It meant nothing, you silly prat , he told himself firmly.

But Moony had seen through him, he had heard the words. Because they hadn’t simply been compliments picked at random out of a hat. They had been for Moony. And they had all been real. 

****

Once they had grown tired of Truth or Dare, the group shifted to Never Have I Ever, a much more potent drinking game, which Sirius was on-board with wholeheartedly.

Marlene went first. “Never have I ever…fallen off my broom trying to impress someone,” she said, lazily, tossing a piece of popcorn into her mouth. 

“Mckinnon!” James gasped, as the girls erupted into laughter, wiping tears from their eyes. He and Sirius clinked glasses and downed their shots with pride.

“Never have I ever…eaten my friend’s homework,” James continued. Three pairs of eyes immediately turned to Sirius, and he raised his glass with a sheepish grin.

“Black?! What the fuck,” Mary exclaimed once the rest of them had processed what James had just said. “Why, where, when, and how?”

“I was bored. Figured I’d try it,” Sirius replied. What he didn’t add was, ‘Oh, and I was a dog at the time.’

James bit his lip and Peter’s face turned red as he struggled to keep a straight face. Meanwhile, Moony was gazing off into the night, lost in his thoughts. Where are you, Moony? Please come back to me , Sirius thought desperately.

“Yeah, you know that actually was not a funny time,” Peter said. “I had to redo the whole thing.”

“My deepest apologies, Wormy. Moony…” Sirius nudged Remus, pulling him out of his daze. “It’s your turn.”

Remus frowned at him and said without hesitation, “Never have I ever been as stupid as Sirius Black.”

Several gasps and ooh’s filled the room. 

“Guess you better drink, Black,” Marlene said, passing him another bottle, clearly enjoying herself.

“Alright, Moony. Whatever you want, it’s your birthday.” Sirius said, eyeing him as he filled his glass up again. “But if I pass out from alcohol poisoning, you have to carry me to bed.”

“Fine. I can’t promise I won’t hit your head on any walls by accident, though.”

“Ah, it’s fine,” Sirius brushed him off. “I was dropped all the time as a kid.” He ignored the concerned looks he knew he was receiving and waited for the next person to begin, which happened to be Peter. 

“Never have I ever…” Pete said, a surprisingly malicious smile appearing on his face. “Fancied someone in this room.”

The effect was immediate. All chatter abruptly stopped—even the record player was silent, having just finished a side. 

Mary met Sirius’ eye, and they both raised their glasses to their lips, followed by James, Lily, Marlene and… Remus. 

Remus?!

What the fuck!

Remus wasn’t looking at him, as usual. Instead, he and Marlene were having some sort of staredown. Remus cocked his head, raising his eyebrow at her. In response, she nodded slowly, shrugging helplessly. 

That bloody traitor. 

That bastard– Remus had fucking lied to him. Sirius had asked—no bullshit, no nothing—if Remus liked Marlene, and he had denied it. Over and over he had denied it. And yet, here they were, having a moment, silently confessing their undying love for each other after all of that. 

What had been the point? Why had Remus felt the need to lie? Could he not trust him? Did he not want Sirius to know him at all?

Everyone still seemed to be in shock; Lily's mouth had dropped open in a silent ‘oh’ as she watched the exchange. 

It was Mary who broke the silence. “Pete! You absolute mastermind!” 

****

Around 1 am, they packed up their stuff, aware of the fact they had morning classes. Lily used some fancy transportation spell to send everything back to the common room and then they were off.

The descent from the tower was tricky in their intoxicated state—a slight oversight on Sirius’ part when choosing the location of the party. James was a mess, so Peter and Marlene (the most sober ones of the group) each gave him an arm for support as they made their way down, the rest following.

Sirius and Remus lagged behind, both using the walls for support as they stumbled down the steps. They were quiet, each lost in their own thoughts.

A bubbling anger was building in Sirius’ chest, and he couldn’t push it down. It wasn’t helping matters that a similar energy was radiating off of Remus; the tall boy seemed to be trying to get rid of Sirius, using his long legs to take multiple steps at a time—though he kept tripping in the process and Sirius was becoming increasingly worried he’d end up falling on his face. 

“Wait, Moony,” Sirius called, trying to catch up and nearly missing a step as he did so. “Merlin, slow down.”

Remus paused to glance back, and Sirius reached him, grabbing onto his sleeve to keep him there. Remus ripped his arm away, glaring at him. It stung, it really stung, but Sirius redirected it before it could show on his face, letting it fuel his anger instead. 

“What the fuck are you angry for? I’m the one who should be angry!” Sirius burst out. 

“You?! What could you possibly be angry about?” Remus snarled. 

“You lied.”

“I–what?” Confusion briefly replaced the anger.

“Yes, I caught that. I know you lied about Marlene. So what, you gonna date her now?” 

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.” Remus was once again looking at him as if he were the stupidest person alive. 

“So are you?” Sirius demanded. 

“No!” Remus yelled. “But so what if I did? You’re going out with Mary, so you can hardly tell me not to date one of my friends.”

“We’re not…going out.”

“Oh you’re not? Then where do you keep running off to together? Some school club I haven’t heard of, is it?”

Sirius flushed. “Well…just– it’s– not officially.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Remus said, gritting his teeth. “So tell me…why do you care so much,” he said, enunciating every syllable, and stepping forward, invading Sirius’ space. 

“I don’t care! Date whoever you want!” Sirius shot back, blood boiling in his veins.

“But you clearly do care for some reason,” Remus said, eyes hardening. “So why?” he asked, placing his arm up against the cool stone next to Sirius’ head, forcing his back against the wall. He was much too close. Why was he so close? 

A flicker of moonlight from the nearby window illuminated Remus’ face, and Sirius could see every little freckle on his cheeks, could count each one of his eyelashes. Moony in the moonlight, he thought. So beautiful. 

“I care because it’s just another thing you felt you needed to hide from me,” Sirius said softly. “You don’t need to hide from me. I won’t run away.”

Remus exhaled, his breath tickling Sirius’ ear, causing goosebumps to erupt down his arms. Remus stepped back again and Sirius let out a breath of his own, one he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

“Okay, Pads,” Moony said, but Sirius still wasn’t sure that he believed him. “Thanks, by the way. For the party. It was great.”

Sirius nodded. “Yeah, it was lots of fun, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Sirius suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of longing. Remus was right there, standing before him, smiling–smiling at him–and yet, despite wanting to flee just a moment before, he still felt too far away. Sirius still wanted him closer. And– not metaphorically close. No, this was different. He wanted– he wanted–

“C’mon, we should head down,” Remus said, nodding his head towards the rest of the stairs below them.

“Right,” Sirius answered. “Take it a bit slower this time, yeah?” 

He followed as Remus began leading the way again. 

“It was a good party,” Remus repeated, just a step ahead of Sirius. “I feel like I always end up doing things I shouldn’t when we get drunk together, though.”

Sirius' heart skipped a beat. “Ha, I know what you mean.”

“You–you do?”

“Y-yeah ‘course! Alcohol makes me a disaster. No way you’re as bad as me.”

“Heh– maybe not.”

“What’s something you shouldn’t have done, though? What kind of things could Moony possibly regret?” Sirius asked as they finally reached the end of the staircase.

His heart was beating like a hummingbird’s against his ribcage as he watched Remus turn to him, opening his mouth to answer, but the words never came because suddenly Sirius lost his balance, his foot missing the step. He was falling, toppling, about to land on his face at Remus’ feet–

But then arms were gripping tight around his waist, absorbing his momentum, and Sirius clung back, holding on just as tightly. He tilted his head up to say sorry, to say thank you, to say anything, but the words stuck in his throat, and he inhaled sharply. Moony was there, he was right there, inches away, taunting Sirius—for what, he didn’t know. And then—and then Remus was kissing him. Remus was kissing him. And oh. Oh fuck.

Sirius was in flames, the windows in his mind shattering like glass, neurons rapid-firing through his body all at once. He had never felt this– had never felt so alive. Sirius had been wanting this. He had been wanting this for so long, and it was all so obvious now, everything since the day they’d met bringing him to this moment, to Moony—to his lips brushing against Sirius,’ gasping into each other mouths, breathing the same breath—to Moony’s hands moving over his back, fingers twisting in his hair, and Sirius didn’t think he’d ever get enough, could ever stop as he reached for Moony’s waist, pulling him hard against him and then– and then pushing him away. 

They broke apart, both breathing heavily. Remus’ eyes were wide, the shock at what they’d done written plainly across his face. The regret.

The only thing Sirius could hear was the blood rushing to his head and Walpurga Black’s voice ringing in his ears, turning sparks to ash on his tongue.  

“Sirius?” Came a voice–Mary’s–echoing all the way up from the floor below. He tried not to jump at the sound.

“Be– be right there!” he called, failing to keep his voice from quivering. 

“I– I’ve gotta’…” was all he managed to say to Remus, who had shoved his hands in his pockets, a mirrored expression of panic on his face.

“Yeah, I just realised,” Remus muttered, pointing in the other direction. 

It took all Sirius had not to run as he turned away.

Chapter 18: the OH moment

Summary:

Padfoot panics

Notes:

omg I'm finally off work so here's the long overdue chapter on gay panic that's very gay. yeah that's pretty much it.

tw: internalised homophobia, as well as past memories (brief) of homophobia and abuse

But I gotta be careful

Gotta watch what I say

God, I hope it all goes away

Cause I can’t fall in love with you

No matter how bad I want to

~Billie Eilish (BITTERSWEET)

 

Sirius stumbled down the stairs in a daze. His heart wouldn’t settle down—he could still feel Moony everywhere, could still taste the desperation. He couldn’t think of anything else. 

“What took you so long?” Mary asked when she saw him. She was leaning against the wall, legs extended in front of her, looking like she had been plucked from the cover of a magazine. 

Sirius couldn’t meet her eyes. “Dizzy. Had to take it slow.”

“Ah, where’s Remus?”

RemusRemusRemusRemus. 

Remus’ hands around his neck, Remus’ fingers in his hair, Remus’ mouth–

“Sirius?” Mary asked, pulling him away from the direction his thoughts were headed. 

“I– I don’t know. Think he forgot something,” he stammered, unsure of what to say.

“Should we wait for him?”

“Nah, he said to go on ahead.” 

Mary nodded as she stood, peering up at him quizzically. “Are you alright, Sirius?”

“Yeah! Why?” Panic surged through him. She could see! She knew! He was sure it was written all over his face. Look at me, it said. I kissed Moony! Moony’s mouth has been on my mouth! 

“You’re acting strange,” Mary responded in answer.

“Well, now that you mention it, I’m really, really drunk,” Sirius said, shoving his trembling hands into his pockets.

“You don’t say.” 

Sirius didn’t know if he would’ve made it back to Gryffindor Tower without Mary. He blindly followed her, only capable of placing one foot in front of the other. His head had begun to feel funny, and he clung to her as if she was what tethered him to the Earth. 

They stopped by the stairs to the girls’ dormitory, and Sirius scrambled for an escape. 

“Fancy another drink?” He smirked at Mary. 

She rolled her eyes. “Party’s over Black. I’m going to bed.”

Fear sank its teeth in, and he reached for Mary, wanting her— needing her more than ever. 

He caught her wrist, drawing her in close, and pressed delicate kisses to her fingertips. She sighed softly but then pulled away. 

“Sirius, you know what I want,” she said, not unkindly. “If I’m what you want, just ask. But I won’t settle for less than I deserve.”

“You– you are what I want,” he swore, as guilt seized his traitorous heart. He wasn’t even sure who he was trying to convince, her or himself.

Mary gave his arm a gentle squeeze before stepping back. “Tell me tomorrow when you’re sober.” She smiled softly and then slipped off up the stairs. 

****

Remus awoke in the dark. Fumbling for his watch on the bedside table, he sat up, wincing at the slight headache he bore—a reminder of the previous night, the decisions he’d made, the short-term rewards, and their very probable long-term consequences. 

In truth, he would argue that it hadn’t been a decision. It hadn’t felt like a choice at all. Remus’ will simply hadn’t been strong enough to stop him. Or to ignore the heart-wrenching words Sirius had said. He’d called him lovely. He had—well, it was best not to dwell on the other things he’d said to him. They hadn’t been real. 

If I were a girl… God. 

If Sirius were a girl, Remus wouldn’t be in this predicament in the first place. 

Then again, maybe he would, Remus thought pathetically. Maybe it was just Sirius, and nothing else mattered. 

Remus’ watch read five-thirty in the morning. Five hours since he had thrown caution to the wind and kissed his best friend. Kissed Sirius bloody Black. Oh God, he’d kissed Sirius.

He was torn between blinding happiness and all-consuming anxiety, unable to determine which was stronger. Because on the one hand, fuck, if that hadn’t been the best snog of his life. Would any moment ever top that? 

See, that’s where things turned sour. Was that it? Had that been the only time he’d ever feel that, ever get to have Sirius that close?

He kissed me back. 

That thought had been looping in Remus’ brain since they’d run away from each other. Every time he remembered, it was like a bolt of lightning to the heart. 

Remus was equally terrified that he might have just ruined everything, destroying his friendship with Sirius forever. Or that nothing would change and Sirius would pretend the kiss hadn’t happened at all.

He kissed you back. He wanted it, a hopeful voice whispered in his head again. Heat curled in the pit of Remus’ stomach as he remembered the feeling of Sirius’ hands grabbing him by the waist, pulling him in, wanting him closer.

Was he really so mad to hope? 

****

Sirius had passed out for a good long while, the alcohol in his system doing its job. That was, until his stomach began to ache, the room spinning nauseatingly around him. Then the dreams intruded; like countless times before, long, scarred fingers pulled him down, tracing their way along his skin, and then abruptly drawing away. But this time everything was crystal clear, and when Remus saw Sirius’ face he turned away in disgust. 

‘You could at least try to hide it,’ he said pityingly, before disappearing into the moonlight. 

Sirius awoke in a sweat, kicking off his covers in an effort to cool down. He was given approximately fifteen seconds of reprieve before the memories came flooding in. Memories of firewhisky and chocolate and whispered secrets turned to arguments. And then heat, so much that he could barely breathe, and Moony’s lips and his body, and a want so bad he didn’t know what to do with it or how it had gone unseen for so long. 

It was like being drenched by a bucket of ice-cold water. Shame and terror gripped him by the throat until he was choking on it, frozen, unable to move.

He had spent so long convincing himself he was overthinking the way Moony made him feel, that he was just hyper aware because of his mother’s beliefs about him. He had tried to push all of it away, along with his last memory of her from the previous summer—just before James had begged his parents to take Sirius in, ensuring he would never see her again. Now, he was bombarded with the words she had hurled at him, each like a slash to his legs, still stinging with phantom pains. Pathetic! Disgusting! Perverti ! Inverti !

He pulled his blankets back over himself, covering his ears, trying to block out all the noise. 

They were right about me all along, Sirius thought hopelessly. A sudden wave of despair hit him as he realised this was something he would never be able to outrun. This was a part of him, and no matter how hard he tried, he would never be someone else. He wanted to claw his way out of his body, but he couldn’t, and so he remained where he was, wishing and pleading and despising himself. 

****

“Sirius.”

Merlin, here he was.

“Sirius.”

Sirius did not reply. 

“Black!” James hissed for the third time. 

Sirius had cruelly hoped that James would be wrecked from the night before. Apparently not. 

“I’m not coming for breakfast, Potter,” Sirius croaked from beneath his duvet.

“Yes – you – are,” James insisted, tugging on the maroon curtains that shielded Sirius from the world. “What the hell?” he exclaimed in confusion. “You charmed your curtains shut?”

“Yeah,” Sirius sighed.

“What’s the bloody matter with you?”

“Hungover.”

“Nothing a little bacon and eggs can’t fix.”

Sirius ignored him, his stomach lurching at the thought. 

“Padfoooot,” James whined. 

Sirius did not respond. Eventually, James retreated, leaving the room in silence. Sirius squeezed his eyes shut, and willed himself to fall back to sleep.

By noon, James had had enough. Sirius heard the door slam as he entered, footsteps marching right over to stand outside Sirius’ bed. Sirius braced himself for a telling off, but then the door opened again, and his chest seized up. He had been anticipating Moony’s return to the dormitory for hours, jumping at any small sound from the hallway outside. The mere thought of seeing him had Sirius in a panic. 

“Black,” James said in his stern, yet loving tone he used when he wanted people to listen to him. He really needed to work on his intimidation skills.

“That’s me,” Sirius said, attempting an air of nonchalance. Footsteps bustled around the room and he held his breath, waiting. He was not ready, he couldn’t—

“It’s time to come out. It’s almost lunch, and I forbid you from missing the rest of your classes,” James said. “Pete and I are about to go down.”

Sirius relaxed, shoulders slumping forward in relief. It didn’t last long.

He knew he couldn’t stay there forever; he had to face him at some point. Hiding away would only make it seem like something was wrong. And he could not have Moony thinking something was wrong. 

Sirius rearranged his features and reluctantly slid out of bed.

“Blimey, you look awful,” Peter remarked when Sirius emerged. 

Sirius gasped indignantly, as he would any other day. “Impossible,” he protested.

“But you really do,” James said. He shrugged on a jumper and surveyed him, eyebrows knitting together in concern. “Did you really drink that much last night?”

“Guess so. Didn’t really keep track,” Sirius shrugged, hurrying for the bathroom to avoid further scrutiny. 

“Five minutes! You have five minutes, Black!” James shouted after him. 

After Sirius sluggishly showered and dressed, despite James’ pestering, he grabbed his school bag, and they made their way down to the Great Hall. Peter and James chatted as they walked, but Sirius couldn’t bring himself to join in. Every step he took closer—closer to him —was a bad idea. How was he supposed to have lunch with Remus as if everything was normal, as if Sirius’ entire perception of their relationship hadn’t changed completely? How were they to go on as friends when Sirius felt like he was losing his mind over what had happened between them? How would he ever look Remus in the eye again? 

His heart pounded in his ears as they entered the Great Hall. He scanned the Gryffindor table, but their tall friend was nowhere in sight. 

“Wonder where Moony is,” Peter said once they had sat down. “He’s usually here by now.”

“Yeah, you know he seemed kind of off this morning,” James remarked as he filled his plate.

“What? Is he hungover too?” Sirius asked, feigning casual concern—as if he wasn’t on the edge of his seat waiting for an answer. 

Pete shrugged. “Maybe. You never really know with him, do you?”

Sirius had to agree. Remus had kept him constantly confused the past year, never really knowing where they stood, and now…

And now– Oh. Oh Merlin. Was this the reason Remus had been avoiding him so adamantly the previous term, why things had been so weird between them lately? Was it all Sirius’ fault?

Remus had been acting so differently since Christmas, since–

Sirius’ stomach dropped through the floor as other memories came crashing in—ones he had pushed to the back of his mind, attributing them to confused emotions or too much drink: Sirius asking Moony to dance, turning beet-red in a silly game of spin the bottle, walking him to class just to be near him, the inexplicable anger at his closeness with Marlene and the fights he’d started because of it, and finally, those petrifying moments over Christmas, holding Moony’s face in his hands, staring into his eyes, intertwining their fingers in the dark…

Fucking hell, he’d been so obvious, so careless. 

Remus had known this whole time. He had been trying to keep things under control, to diffuse the tension—tension that Sirius had created. But Sirius had made it impossible for Remus to put space between them—had forced himself on Remus time and time again. Because he was weak, selfish, depraved. 

Even then, he still hadn’t gotten the hint, he’d still taken more than Moony was willing to give—fucking flirting with him in front of all of their friends, showcasing his desire for everyone to see. He’d practically confessed his feelings – without even meaning to, without realising what it had meant. 

Of course Remus was angry. He should be. Remus wasn’t stupid, he knew what Sirius had meant. In what world did any normal bloke ever imagine what it would be like to be a girl, which of their mates they would get with if they had that chance? 

A new form of self-hatred rapidly took shape, and Sirius had the horrible sensation that something had buried itself in his stomach, died, and was now slowly decaying inside of him. He pushed away his tea biscuit, the only thing he had attempted to eat. 

“Mate– what’s wrong?” James asked in alarm, noticing the wild look of panic that must have been evident on his face. 

“I– I have to get out of here,” Sirius said, standing up. His legs hit the back of the bench and he tried to regain his balance by hopping over it—except his foot caught, and a second later he was sprawled on the ground. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he grimaced, laughing at himself so no one else would. “Don’t worry about–” he looked up, and the words died in his throat. 

There was Moony, long limbs towering over him, looking unusually rumpled in a way that made Sirius’ heart ache. Tie wrapped haphazardly around his neck and bag slung over one shoulder, he pushed several strands of floppy hair out of his face and wordlessly reached out, offering a hand to help Sirius up. 

In an instant it was all rushing back—Moony’s darkening eyes, hands tightening on Sirius’ waist, calloused fingers brushing over his skin, lips colliding with Sirius’ in a scorching, irreversible kiss that sent shivers down his spine–

Stop. Control yourself .

Sirius got to his feet, ignoring his outstretched hand, sure he’d combust on the spot if Remus touched him again. A flicker of unintelligible emotion passed across Remus’ face. 

On second thought, maybe accepting the small act of kindness would have been less suspicious than ignoring it.

“Hey Moony, didn’t see you there,” Sirius forced out, belatedly. 

“Hey,” Remus responded naturally. He turned his attention to the others. “What’s for lunch? I’m starving.”

Sirius let them take over, slipping away among some Ravenclaws who were rushing off to class early, books clutched under their arms. He glanced back as he exited the hall; his friends were all happily chatting away, Moony already tucking into a large plate of food. 

Sirius kept walking, feeling sick and foolish and more alone than he ever had.

Notes:

sending all my love to anyone who can relate to this chapter xx

Chapter 19: what about Mary?

Summary:

who needs communication?

Does it feel like everything's just like second-best after that

Meteor strike?

And what's that, that I heard, that you're still with her

That's nice, I'm sure that's what's suitable

And right

But tonight…

Can I ask you a question?

~ Taylor Swift (Question…?)

 

Remus needed a cigarette. Actually, he needed at least a box of them, given the absolute mess he’d landed himself in. And it was all his doing. No one else was to blame—as much as he wished otherwise.

Well, perhaps he could lay a little of the blame on Sirius. Sirius with his dark hair, playful smile, and the ability to wrap Remus around his finger with barely a word. And he had said many words—he’d said so many dangerous things without a second thought, each like a sharp hook, digging in deep, leaving a sting Remus would never forget. Because it had all been for show, all part of the game, and Remus knew that. But still they’d stuck. And then– the way Sirius had looked at him, like it had meant more, like he wanted Remus to lean in– as if he was waiting for him to. 

Maybe they both were to blame. Except– except if Remus hadn’t done what he’d done, hadn’t kissed him, then Sirius would still be able to look him in the eye.

They had only one class together that afternoon, which was something of a miracle, but it was still shaping up to be one of the most painfully long afternoon’s of Remus’ life. The Gryffindor and Ravenclaw fifth years were all paired up for their unit on vanishment spells, McGonagall clearly in no mood for any messing around. As such, she had placed James and Sirius as far from each other as possible. However, she hadn’t shared that same concern for the rest of the Marauders, so Remus somehow found himself sitting directly behind Sirius near the back of the class.

It almost felt worse than it would’ve to be sat at the same table. Remus kept waiting for him to turn around, to flash him that mischievous Sirius Black grin like every other day. But he didn’t, and the pit of dread in Remus’ stomach continued to grow.

So instead of listening to their professor speak, Remus spent his time in a state of moderate panic, debating each and every possibility of what might be going through Sirius’ head and what could be done about it. Just as he was considering option number five, admit defeat, apologise, and beg Sirius to put everything behind them, the girl next to Remus cleared her throat. 

“Are you gonna try?” she asked, nodding to their subject, a small, white mouse that appeared to be asleep on the desk. 

“Right, sorry,” Remus said to the girl. He thought her name might’ve been Evelyn. 

“It’s okay,” she giggled, tucking a long, black curl behind her ear. Not sure what was so funny, Remus raised his wand and whispered the incantation. The mouse disappeared. 

“Wow, you’re a natural, Remus,” she said good-naturedly. He blinked at the assured way she said his name. Sirius shifted in his seat in front of them, causing Remus’ heart to skip a beat, but he remained facing forward.

Shaking his head, Remus ripped off a piece of paper from his notebook and hastily scribbled: Can we talk?

Hoping his aim wouldn’t fail him, he tossed the note towards Sirius’ desk. Sirius jumped as it landed next to his hand.

Remus held his breath as Sirius glanced down at the note and slowly picked it up. He unfolded the note slowly–painstakingly slowly–hunching over to read it once he had.

After an eternity, Sirius finally turned around and tossed the note back. He nodded at Remus, wearing an expression so neutral his eyes seemed devoid of any thoughts at all. But then they darted to Evelyn, and Remus thought the indifference might’ve been a bit overkill. 

Once Sirius had turned away, Remus picked up the note. In his elegant scroll, just below Remus’ chicken scratch, Sirius had written, Sure, what about? 

Remus nearly laughed out loud–or he would have, if he hadn’t been so frustrated that he wanted to bang his head on the table. Gripping his quill tightly, he wrote back, the reason you’re avoiding me.

Sirius took even longer to open this one, seemingly engrossed in the next bit of information McGonagall was relaying to them. He was taking notes for Christ’s sake—nodding along as she spoke and following her carefully as she walked back and forth in front of her chalkboard. It wasn’t until she had finished speaking, instructing them to carry on with their practice, that Sirius opened the note.

Remus turned back to Evelyn–anything to pretend he shared the same apparent indifference that Sirius had towards the situation–towards him. 

But not a moment later, “Mr Black.”

Remus jerked his head up as he realised Sirius was being addressed by Professor McGonagall. 

“Yes darling,” Sirius responded, earning himself a couple laughs from their fellow classmates. Remus saw Sirius quickly tuck the note under his desk. 

“It is Professor McGonagall to you,” McGonagall replied sternly. “And you would do well to remember it.” 

She had been surveying everyone from the front of the class, but now she approached them between the rows of desks, her eyes narrowed behind thin-framed spectacles. 

“So you have someone who calls you darling then! How delightful! I must say I knew you had–” 

Their teacher held up a hand, cutting Sirius off–which was probably a very good thing. 

“That is quite enough, Mr. Black. Now, there are no passing notes in my class as I’m sure you are well aware.”

“But– I was–”

“Mr Black,” McGonagall’s eyebrows climbed up her forehead, her scrutinising gaze somehow becoming more piercing. “Hand it over.”

Sirius bowed his head and placed the note in her outstretched hand.

It held nothing of any particular meaning, Remus reminded himself as McGonagall examined the note. They had had countless disagreements over the years. To an onlooker, this was no different.

McGonagall looked from Sirius to Remus and back again, lips pressed together in a thin line. Remus stared back, doing his best to appear unbothered.

“Very well,” she said finally, lips twitching ever so slightly. “Don’t let it happen again.” She placed the note back on the desk and turned away without another word. 

Remus attempted to go back to his work, but school had never been further from his mind. 

****

Sirius packed up his stuff as fast as he could, practically dashing from the Transfiguration classroom. 

Maybe it seemed unreasonable—it certainly wasn’t how one went about acting normal, but he could not talk to Moony. He just couldn’t. He couldn’t bear the truth, to watch as Remus tried his hardest to repress the look of disgust, to spare Sirius’ feelings and hesitatingly agree that, sure, they could still be friends, but to please not watch him while he was changing.

As it was, Sirius could hardly stand to be in the same room as him. Everywhere he turned, no matter how hard he tried to look away, he could feel Remus like an open flame—bright and fiery hot and impossible to ignore. It wasn’t that Sirius hadn’t been aware of Remus before—he had been. That was just Remus, he commanded your attention without even trying. He had Sirius’ attention without a word, before he moved so much as an inch, he had it. But now it was nearly unbearable and he was terrified that it wasn’t something he could hide anymore. 

Sirius only slowed his pace once he was outside, breathing in the newly spring air as he headed for the Quidditch pitch. Not only was it the only place he had been able to think of that Remus was sure to not be, but he felt as if he would go clinically insane if he stayed on the ground a moment longer. He needed this—this feeling he could only find on his broom, the wind whipping at his hair and the inability to hear his own thoughts at the breakneck speed with which he flew.

It wasn’t long before Sirius was joined by James and they flew laps and laps around the pitch together, until even he was exhausted. 

“What’s up with you, mate,” James asked him once they had showered and began heading back up to the castle. Sirius dragged his feet, trying to delay dinner as much as possible. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean,” he said, ruffling a hand through his already messy hair. “That you seem off. I don’t know what it is, but you just do.”

“I don’t know, Prongs. Do you ever just have a bad day? That’s all it is,” Sirius said, looking off into the distance. He longed to disappear to the forest as Padfoot– leave everything behind for a while.

“Yeah, ‘course I do,” James said earnestly. “Any way I can help?”

“Nah. Nothing to help with,” Sirius assured him.

“So it doesn’t have to do with Mary at all?”

Sirius looked at him. “Mary?”

“Yeah, you know, with the ‘demands’ she’s asked of you?” he said, raising his fingers to put the word ‘demands’ in air quotes. 

Oh. Right. That.

“Er, I guess, kind of,” Sirius said. And he supposed it wasn’t entirely a lie. Except that it didn’t have to do with her at all, and that was the problem.

“Still don’t know what you’re gonna do?” James asked.

“No clue,” Sirius said. Honestly, he hadn’t thought about it all day. 

He knew it wasn’t fair to Mary, what he was doing. He had even less of an excuse now. Now that he knew what he knew. Mary deserved better than him. Much better. She deserved someone good, someone who fully wanted her and only her—who wasn’t so twisted on the inside. 

But—maybe he could become someone worthy of her. He could work on himself, reject all of the bad thoughts and embrace what was right and good. Embrace Mary. It wasn’t impossible, right?

Maybe a part of his problem was that he had wanted to disobey his mother. He had always felt like a disappointment to her–nothing he’d done had ever been enough. So he’d given up; it was only natural when you knew your efforts were fruitless. He’d given up and gone over the deep end, giving her exactly what she’d always expected of him. He’d been the best disappointment she’d ever known, and he had enjoyed it, for the most part. So it wasn’t improbable to think that he’d also done this for her—that he’d unconsciously become tainted on purpose.

He was just sorry he’d taken Remus down with him. 

It was too late for Sirius to undo what he had done. But maybe, just maybe, he could make it better again. He would prove to Remus nothing had changed, that they could be friends, and then blame everything else on the liquor. Thank Merlin he hadn’t been sober. Everyone did things they regretted on firewhisky; it simply came with the territory. 

What kind of things could Moony possibly regret? His question to Remus from the previous night intruded his thoughts. He shook his head, blinking forcefully to block out the images that followed. Something like this, that’s what, you absolute imbecile, Sirius berated himself.

But it was okay–or it would be anyway–because now he had a plan.

****

Remus, for quite possibly the first time in his life, was not hungry. He moved his vegetables back and forth across his plate, half-listening to the girls giggle about this and that. From what he could gather, it seemed that Lily had developed a crush on someone, although no names were mentioned nor did Lily particularly seem to be enjoying the interrogation she was receiving from Mary and Marlene. Remus briefly wondered if the unthinkable had happened and James had finally succeeded in wooing her, but he didn’t have the energy to try to sort through their conversation for clues. 

“Hey,” Marlene nudged him. “Do my eyes deceive me or is Remus Lupin not hungry?” she asked incredulously.

“‘Fraid not,” he replied.

“Why? Did something happen?”

“Fancy seeing you lot here!” James boomed loudly, nearly causing Remus to go into cardiac arrest. James hopped in next to him, slapping him roughly on the back, while Sirius slid into the bench across the table.

“Tell you later,” Remus whispered to Marlene. Her eyes widened, but she sipped her juice and said nothing more for the time being.

“How is everyone?” Sirius asked jovially, speaking to the group at large. 

Brilliant, you bastard, Remus thought furiously, staring at him as Sirius continued to look anywhere else. Just brilliant.

“Oh, we’re great,” Mary said, spearing a roasted potato cheerfully and popping it in her mouth. “Headache’s nearly gone too.”

“Well, how ‘bout that,” Sirius said. “I, on the other hand, haven’t been this hungover in years.”

“Didn’t you only start drinking, like, a year ago?” Peter pointed out, having just moved over to join in from where he’d been sitting with Desdemona. 

“Nonsense, Wormtail,” Sirius slapped his hand down on the table. “Do you go around spreading lies like that every day?”

“Do you, Padfoot?” James accused in response.

Look at me , Remus thought. Bloody look at me. Sirius was acting so normal, so different from just that afternoon. The only indication that anything had changed at all was his persistent avoidance of Remus’ gaze. 

Well, that might’ve worked with all of the girls, but it certainly would not with him, Remus decided. 

He gave Sirius one last chance and tried to catch his eye, but nothing came of it. So he went straight for the throat.   

“So,” Remus said, breezily. “Did anyone do anything they regret last night?”

As suspected, his words hit their target. Sirius abruptly looked up, eyes finally meeting Remus’. For a moment, all of the chatter fell away. They were back in the stairwell, and Remus was the one who was falling, pulled in by the magnetic draw of everything Sirius, helpless to look away, uncaring to try. Sirius bit his lip, an almost imperceptible frown on his face and Remus so wanted to kiss him. More than he ever had. Oh, he was in trouble . It had been one thing when Remus hadn’t known what it was like, hadn’t known how he’d tasted and now– 

The spell was broken as Mary said, “Nope. I live with no regrets.”

Remembering himself, Remus began, “Well, I definitely did. I mean–” A kit to the ankle cut him off mid-sentence. Remus felt a surge of satisfaction. Oh, he had Sirius’ full attention now. Remus could tell he was taking every effort to appear at ease, but his eyes, wide and pleading, said it all. 

Did he really think that Remus would actually say anything? 

Remus spoke quickly, if only to diminish the look of genuine fear in his friend’s eyes. “I regret seeing James do that poetic reading,” he smirked dryly. “I can’t seem to get him out of my head.”

A mixture of relief and confusion passed over Sirius' face. Not for the first time, Remus wished he knew legilimency.

James played along perfectly. “Awh, Moony, I didn’t know you felt like that,” he gushed, placing his hands underneath his chin and batting his eyelashes at Remus. “If I had known, we would’ve been together a long time ago.”

“Bet you can’t get Sirius outta’ your head either,” Peter said, hand hovering over the selection of desserts that had just appeared. He snatched up a pumpkin pasty before adding, “I, myself, would’ve fallen at his feet if I’d received that treatment.”

Remus laughed, hoping it didn’t sound as awkward as it felt. He snuck a look at Sirius to find him doing the same. Butterflies swarmed his stomach even as Sirius glanced away all too soon. 

“Wouldn’t we all,” James said fondly. 

“Speak for yourself,” Marlene said. “If I end up begging at your feet, Black, it will be the end of the world as we know it.”

“Damn, Mckinnon,” Sirius finally got out. “Harsh.” 

“It’s nothing personal,” Marlene assured him. 

“Funny, ‘cause it feels pretty personal.”

Marlene shrugged, “Okay, you’re right, it’s a bit personal.”

“I’m with you on that one, Marlene,” Mary said, eyeing Sirius with distaste. 

“Uh oh, Sirius, what did you do?” Peter asked.

Remus was wondering the same thing. Had he ended things with her, he dared to hope. There was no way, was there?

“Oh yes, about that…” Sirius trailed off, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. He pulled out his wand and tapped it to his Adam's apple, muttering something underneath his breath. A sinking feeling replaced the butterflies as Sirius pushed off his seat and climbed directly onto the table. Standing between the teapot and a basket of blueberry muffins, Sirius cleared his throat, making several people jump as his voice reverberated around the room. 

“Black, what in Merlin’s name are you doing?” Lily demanded.

“Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls, I have something to say,” Sirius called, holding up a finger and tossing his hair in that way of his, which did not, under any circumstances make Remus want to sigh like a lovesick schoolgirl. 

“Mr Black!” Professor McGonnagall cried, standing from her own chair at the head table. “You will get down from there at once.”

Sirius ignored her.

“Mary Macdonald.” Marlene clapped her hands over her ears while Mary stared up at Sirius, a half-eaten doughnut in one hand, the other covering her mouth in shock.

“Yes?” she asked, eyes darting around as about two hundred others regarded her curiously. 

With a sarcastic flick of his eyebrow and a flourish of his wand, Sirius produced a single red rose. “My lady,” he said, bowing over, dramatically, and presenting it to Mary. After setting down her doughnut and brushing crumbs off her fingers, Mary reluctantly took the flower. 

“Though I may not deserve it. I shall try to earn your love… if you let me,” Sirius went on, as if he were making a bloody marriage proposal. “So Mary, will you do me the greatest and most treasured honour of being my unlawfully wedded girlfriend.”

Mary, for her part, appeared to be holding in laughter. “If you get off the table and stop embarrassing me, then yes, I will be your girlfriend, Sirius.”

The entirety of the Gryffindor table, along with many Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, burst into applause, cheering for their well-loved Marauder. A few brave Slytherins joined in as well, though Remus didn’t miss the nasty looks many of the purebloods were sending Sirius’ way.

“Brilliant,” Sirius grinned, jumping back down into his seat. Mary rolled her eyes, but a smile crept through the facade of annoyance as Sirius reached across the table and took her hand, kissing it like a proper gentleman. 

“You can stop projecting your voice to the entire school now,” Mary reminded him. 

“Oh right,” Sirius mouthed, still grinning like he’d just fought in battle and saved the princess of his dreams. 

“Let’s go, Padfoot!” James cheered, as Sirius received many congratulatory fistbumps, and the girls huddled in, squealing and giggling together. Underneath the table, Marlene caught hold of Remus’ hand, giving it a tight squeeze. Remus squeezed back, just as hard. It probably hurt, but she didn’t seem to mind. 

When Sirius’ eyes met Remus’ again, he nodded, smiling reassuringly like he’d found all of the answers and Remus gave him his best smile in return, hoping he couldn’t see his pain.

Chapter 20: regrettable reconciliation

Summary:

the restoration of friendly relations

Cards on the table

Mine play out like fools in a fable, oh

It was sinking in

Slow is the quicksand

Poison blood from the wound of the pricked hand

Oh, still I dream of him

~Taylor Swift (The Prophecy)

 

Sirius hardly spoke to Remus in the weeks that followed. Or, Remus hardly spoke to Sirius. Remus wasn’t sure—although it was more than likely both. He hadn’t bothered trying to talk to him about what had happened. If Sirius’ actions told him anything, it was that Remus had royally fucked up and he needed to back off. Sirius had made it unmistakably clear that the kiss had been a mistake, one he was not willing to make again. And as much as Remus hated the way he’d gotten the message across, it was so very, typically Sirius that he couldn't fault him for it. Whether the kiss had meant everything or nothing at all, Sirius was exactly the type of guy to run into the arms of the first girl he saw just to prove it hadn’t. 

That wasn’t to say that Remus thought Sirius didn’t actually want Mary—it was clear they had something he would never understand, a special kind of bond. If he were anyone else, Remus might’ve thought it was nice. They just seemed to get each other, Sirius and Mary. They shared a similar sense of humour, and the spirited energy they both possessed only grew when they were together. Remus found it incredibly electrifying to be around, although that feeling had been diminished considerably since the developments of late. Mary had no issue standing up for herself either, which Remus had a feeling would prove quite necessary were they to continue with their relationship. 

So despite the crushing disappointment and longing he often felt, Remus tried to appreciate it for what it was: an opportunity. A chance to get over Sirius once and for all. This was what he had been waiting for—rejection. To finally be able to understand that, no, it was never going to happen. Now he didn’t have to wonder and hope. Remus’ hope had been unrealistically strong. It had persevered through rain and storm, rekindling from sparks with the faintest breath of oxygen. But it had been stomped out, never to be seen again—Remus assured himself.

Another thing he could appreciate about the whole affair was that Sirius had not been flaunting his relationship—at least, not after his first performance in the Great Hall. In fact, Remus hadn’t seen them kiss even once, for which he was beyond grateful. It certainly eased the initial blow.

That wasn’t to say it didn’t hurt like hell sometimes. 

The following Monday, Remus was having a particularly sleepless night. He had gone to bed early, hoping for an early recess from his waking thoughts and the knowledge that Sirius was probably off in some secluded corner of the castle with Mary. He had no such luck, however, and had spent about three hours staring at the canopy of his four-poster, waiting for sleep to take him. 

That was, until he heard the soft shut of the door and hushed voices as two people entered the room. He sat up, straining his ears. He could have sworn Peter and James were already both asleep. But wait– Oh. Fuck no. 

Remus sucked in a breath, that familiar feeling of dread taking hold of him. That was Mary’s voice, the flowery citrus of Mary’s perfume, her cheeky, little giggle. The desire to escape seized him as their voices came closer.

“Shhh, don’t wake anyone up,” Sirius was saying, amid giggles. 

“Says you, Black,” Mary whispered back.

The floor creaked as they, not so quietly, crept over to Sirius’ side of the room. 

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Sirius said, making Remus want to gag in disgust. 

A moment later, the strange quiet that accompanied a silencing spell filled the room, leaving Remus alone with nothing but a throbbing ache and an unjustified anger in his chest. Climbing out of bed, he marched to the bathroom, making no effort to soften his footsteps. Let them know they had disturbed him, he fumed. Let Sirius know that he knew exactly what was going on. He shut the bathroom door with vigour.

Gripping his hands on either side of the sink, he stared down at the ugly scars there, pale skin almost translucent in the harsh glow of the bathroom light. Unwelcome tears sprung in his eyes and he scrubbed his face in an attempt to prevent them from falling, but it was no use. He met his own reflection in the mirror and cringed away.

Well, surprise, said the voice in his head. They sleep together. Don’t know what you expected.

The thing was he had been expecting it. He had pictured it—how perfectly they must fit together, how Mary must make Sirius feel—if when he held her, he swore they were made for each other, if she stirred some deep yearning in him the way Sirius did in Remus.

Of course she did. It was Mary. She had so much to offer—her beauty, her imagination, her kindness and grace. What did he have? Nothing worth desiring, that was for sure. 

He shouldn’t have kissed Sirius. He shouldn’t have risked it. He had overstepped on Mary, his friend, and what she had with him, and he had overstepped his friendship with Sirius as well.  His anger redirected, turning back on himself. How selfish could he have been? Shouldn’t it have been enough? 

He wished it had been. He wished it were.

A gentle knock startled Remus from his spiral and he cursed under his breath. He splashed some cool water on his face before turning out the light and opening the door, hoping it was dark enough that whoever was waiting outside couldn’t see his face. 

“Remus,” James grinned at him, hair sticking up every which way from sleep. “Padfoot’s midnight adventure woke you too, eh?”

“Er, yeah,” he replied, voice a bit hoarse.

“Good on him, though. He was taking forever to make up his mind about her.”

“Oh. Yeah, totally.” Remus hadn’t even known he’d been trying to. Another twist of jealousy flared up inside him, this time at the ease with which James and Sirius shared things with each other. 

“Hey, you alright, Moony?” James asked, never one to miss when someone was off.

“Yeah. Fine, Prongs,” Remus assured him. “Just sleepy.”

“Okay, mate,” James nodded, patting him on the shoulder as he passed. “Sleep tight.”

****

“Are you and Moony fighting?”

“Huh?” 

Sirius had been fiddling with the tassels of a scratchy, maroon blanket he hated–having not wanted to move and get a different one–but glanced over to find James regarding him pensively with that mother hen concern he knew all too well. 

“You heard me,” James said. He was currently sprawled out, arms behind his head, on the large couch opposite the window. Sirius considered the forest beyond, tall trees swaying in the breeze and then swivelled his armchair back around to face the rest of the common room. 

“No,” he replied, easily—or so he’d have liked to think. “We’re not fighting.”

“You sure? ‘Cause the past month of awkward tension says otherwise.”

Sirius swallowed. “Awkward tension, you say? Hadn’t noticed.”

James arched an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Hadn’t noticed that one of you always falls silent when the other enters the room? Or that you both watch each other like you have something important to say but can’t bring yourselves to say it? Or how you’re clearly both avoiding–”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Sirius cut him off. 

So things between them hadn’t exactly cleared up the way he had hoped. He had thought it would’ve all blown over by then—that with a little time and patience, everything would be right again, and he’d go back to pestering Moony while he did his homework and they’d share cigarettes and secret smiles just for them, and Sirius wouldn’t have to worry if it was too much for him—if he was too much. 

Then again, maybe Sirius had lost those things for a reason and the yearning he felt for them was why he couldn’t get them back.

He had done everything to prove he could forget about it, that nothing had to change, that he shared the same wishes for their friendship as Remus did. Yet, somehow, the message had gotten lost, the distance between them too great to cross. 

The truth was that everything had changed, and there was no denying it. They hardly spoke, could barely meet each other’s eyes, and it had been weeks since they’d been alone together—not since that night. Not since…

“Will you promise me you’ll talk to him about whatever’s going on?” James asked. 

Sirius hesitated. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Please, Pads. Don’t you remember anything I’ve taught you? About communication, and, you know, how good it is?” he said, looking exasperated.

Sirius didn’t say anything. He knew part of the problem was that he’d avoided bringing it up—he’d avoided it at all costs. But he’d almost felt like mentioning it would only put things further out of balance. It was much easier to pretend it hadn’t happened, regardless of the fact that they both knew otherwise. Just as he was sure Moony was well aware of his—well, his effect on him. 

“C’mon, if not for you guys, then at least do it for me? I’m dying here,” James begged.

Sirius was too, but he didn’t say that. Instead, he said, “I’m sure you can handle some awkward tension. You have that all the time with Evans.”

James gasped in outrage. “I do not.” Sirius, meanwhile, had just realised he’d compared his relationship with Moony to James’ infatuation with a girl and was having a bit of an internal crisis.

James didn’t seem to notice. He was more concerned with giving Sirius his best sad puppy eyes, lip poking out pitifully, eyes too wide, making him look almost theatrical.

Sirius was unimpressed. “You really trying that on me? The master of puppy dog eyes?” 

“What else am I to do? C’mon,” he said again, tilting his head down and looking up at Sirius, eyebrows pulled together. “This really doesn’t make you feel anything?”

“Alright, that’s a bit better.”

“So will you do it?” James said, and he did look terribly sad.

“…Fine,” Sirius relented, gut already twisting with nerves. “But I can’t promise anything will come of it.” 

“I believe in you.”

“Well, that’s one of us,” Sirius sighed. He didn’t think James would be so sure if he knew the real reason behind the tension. 

“Pads,” James said, gently.

“Yeah?”

“If you need to talk to me, I’m here. You know that right?”

“Right. Thanks, Prongs.”

But he couldn’t help. Not with this. Sirius couldn’t possibly imagine what he would say. 

It was one of the reasons he felt so lost. In many of his darkest moments living in the Black mansion, Sirius had often thought about what James would do or say if he were there. Somehow, even the James in his head had always had an answer. Over the past five years, Sirius had made countless mistakes and experienced moments of deep shame. But he’d always had James. 

So what was he supposed to do now, with this thing he feared was so shameful he couldn’t even tell him about it—his best friend in the whole world? 

He didn’t know. He really didn’t know.

****

He found Moony by the greenhouses, hidden away behind the back corner of the furthest building, out of sight of passersby. Even without the map, it wouldn’t have been that difficult; Sirius could smell the smoky pine of his joint before he rounded the corner. There he was, leaning back with his head against the wall, spliff in hand. He had his book open next to him but he wasn’t reading, just contemplating the world around him, a far-off look in his eyes. 

Sirius watched, transfixed, as Remus lifted what he knew was a perfectly rolled joint to his lips and blew the smoke out unhurriedly, golden brown hair ruffling in the breeze. It was strange, seeing him so unguarded. It made Sirius' chest tighten in that way he was becoming all too familiar with. Moony was just so achingly beautiful; that was the only way to describe it. But it was wrong, so he tucked the feeling away deep inside before he got too close.

Remus lowered his eyes from the grey sky above but didn’t look over as Sirius approached. Sirius could tell he knew it was him–he must’ve felt the longing stare from a mile away–but it wasn’t until he cleared his throat, palms a sweaty mess in his jacket pockets, that Moony finally acknowledged him. 

He didn’t say anything at first, just offered a tight smile, which Sirius returned just as awkwardly. 

“Hi,” Sirius said. “Mind if I sit?”

Remus gestured to the grass next to him. “Go for it.”

Sirius sat, leaving a reasonable amount of space between them; the last thing he wanted was to make his friend more uncomfortable than he already was. Still, he wished to close the gap, to sit so close they were touching, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. 

Don’t. He snapped the elastic on his wrist, Mary’s, as a reminder. If Moony was going to trust him again, or if he was ever going to deserve Mary, he couldn’t be having these thoughts. The more he had them, the harder they were to prevent. They were spreading like invasive weeds and if he didn’t pull them out soon, Moony would be all he could think about. As it were…

“Did you want a hit?” Remus asked. 

“What–? Oh. Yes. Yes please.” So he was feeling generous today. 

Remus extended his arm out, spliff held up like a peace offering. 

“You can come closer, you know. I won’t bite.”

“Aren’t you worried I will?”

Remus quirked his brow up. He was so cool, so calm. “Don’t be absurd.”

“Okay.” Sirius scooched in a little and made to take the fag, but then Remus’ fingers brushed his, and he fumbled it into the grass. “Fuck, sorry.”

“It’s fine, Sirius.”

Sirius almost shivered at the sound of his name on Moony’s lips. He was falling apart, wasn’t he?

“So, what’s your reason for getting high?” Remus asked, relighting the spliff and handing it to Sirius again, who managed to keep a hold on it this time. “Shouldn’t you be off frolicking into the sunset with your girlfriend?”

“No, I– I came to talk to you.” Godric, could he really do this?

“Oh, so now you wanna talk.” That dangerous spark flashed in his eyes, and Sirius was equal parts thrilled and terrified. It was strange the way he could feel so wrong, yet so alight with energy in his presence. 

“Look, Moony. I get that you’re angry. I get it.”

“You do?”

“Of course, it’s completely understandable. I would be too if I were you.”

“Okay. I– don’t really know what to say to that.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I think…I think it’d be easier if you didn’t.” Easier for me. 

Remus didn’t respond for a moment. A robin was chirping somewhere nearby; Sirius tried to focus on its cheerful, lilting tune rather than the loud, thumping of his heart. Finally, Remus sighed softly, keeping his eyes on the horizon as he said, “I’m not angry. Not really.”

“You’re not?” 

“No. I understand, and I…don’t blame you. How could I?” 

Hope bloomed in his chest. Moony didn’t blame him. He wasn’t angry. Sirius could have laughed with relief. 

“So we’re okay?” he asked hesitantly. 

“We’re okay.” Remus smiled. Sirius smiled back.

“I was scared I’d lost you,” Sirius confessed in a half-whisper. It almost felt too fragile to say out loud. 

“You could never lose me, Padfoot. No matter what we– no matter what,” Remus promised. “You’d sooner have to kill me.”

“Oh good,” Sirius laughed. “‘Cause I don’t plan on doing that anytime soon.” Then he remembered something. “Wait a minute. So what’s your reason for getting high?”

“Isn’t just plain boredom reason enough?”

“I’d say so.”

“Alright,” Remus said. “So we’re just two blokes smoking cause we have nothing better to do.”

“Exactly,” Sirius agreed. “How lame of us.” Then, because he couldn’t help himself, “Maybe we should be bored together more often.”

Remus looked at him sideways, mouth curling up in a playful smirk, and everything was right in the world. “Maybe we should.”

Chapter 21: the moral dilemma of plotting murder

Summary:

nothing becomes any clearer and no one gets any smarter

It's a pain that I caught you at a bad time

It's a shame that I memorised your outline

You were straight up with me, you were so kind

But I knew what you knew, honey, great minds

It was harsh 'cause I lost what I wanted

I was brave when I kissed you in London

We're collateral here, man, we got hit

Hope you find somewhere safe for your baggage

~Gracie Abrams (Free Now)

 

Things between Remus and Sirius returned much to how they had been, and Remus was glad for it. He felt more at ease around Sirius than he had in ages, now that he wasn’t overthinking their relationship down to the tiniest detail. 

Remus didn’t think, least of all overthink about Sirius—not anymore, not in that way. He didn’t think about his contagious, melodic laugh, and it didn’t strike a chord in him when it rang out from those completely un-enticing lips. He didn’t think about where those lips had been or how he’d never feel them on his again. He didn’t think about the sizzling electricity that still crackled in the air between them, despite the circuit having been cut short. He didn’t think about the kiss and he didn’t think about Sirius. He didn’t. 

In fact, when Marlene asked him how things were going, he was perfectly unphased and didn’t stumble over his words at all. 

“Oh yeah, it’s great. I’m great,” he insisted, after one of their long study sessions in the library mid-way through April. The corridors were quite chilly as they walked back to the common room, and Remus tucked his fingers into his sweater, grateful he’d chosen a thicker one when dressing that morning. 

He hadn’t actually told Marlene anything that had happened the night of his birthday, not after the desperate look Sirius had given him that first morning at breakfast, but she was free to believe what she wanted.

“It’s great?” Marlene eyed him sceptically.

“Yeah,” he responded while they waited for the next staircase to finish moving. “I think I’m over it.”

“Ha– that’s a good one, that is.”

“C’mon, you’re supposed to encourage me and my wishful thinking.”

“Encourage, yes, but I also know it’s not healthy to live in delusion,” she said, pushing her newly cut bangs out of her face. According to Lily, she had stormed into their room the night before in a sudden fit of rage, and cut her hair herself; it was much shorter and choppier than she’d ever had it, but Remus thought it suited her. 

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to stop doing,” he grumbled. “What, is it really that hard to believe I’m over it?”

“I mean, kind of, yeah.” She chuckled, smiling apologetically.

“God, am I that obvious?”

“To someone like me–and by someone like me I mean a raging lesbian who’s good at reading people–yes. But people see what they look for. To someone else, who wouldn’t think about it or expect it, I guess it’s not as obvious.”

Remus found himself momentarily sidetracked, in awe of the girl next to him. He knew he was queer, just as well as he knew he was a werewolf or that he was an orphan—but had he actually ever said it out loud? Marlene had labelled herself with such confidence, hadn’t even lowered her voice. She’d just said it, leaving no room for arguments, as if to say, this is who I am, take it or leave it. Granted, the corridor was completely empty and most of the students had already returned to their common rooms for the night, but that was hardly the point, was it?

“Marlene,” Remus asked. “How did you become so…confident in yourself?”

Marlene looked at him, warm brown eyes fond behind the dark shadows of her makeup. “I actually learned it from you.”

“From me?” Surely he must’ve heard her wrong.

“Yeah, you, silly. You’ve always seemed so unafraid, so matter of fact about everything and I realised, why shouldn’t I be? There’s no changing it. This is who I am, so I’m not going to waste time hiding away—at least not when I don’t have to.”

“Wow.” Remus was stunned. She was right, of course, there was no point in pretending to be someone you weren’t. “I don’t think I deserve the credit though, Marls. You did that all yourself.”

“Maybe, but it's meant a lot, you know, to have someone who understands,” she paused, expression changing into something more timid. “And well—there’s actually something else I have to tell you.” 

“Something else?” he asked. 

A shy but almost giddy smile crept up her face. “Yeah. You see, well, it’s–” She tried again. “I asked Dorcas Meadows out on a date and she said yes,” she blurted, her words coming out in a rush. 

“You what?! Oh my God, Marls, that’s amazing!”

“I know right,” she said. She was beaming from head to toe.

“How did this happen?” 

“We were paired together for another project in Potions and got to talking, and…I don’t know, one thing led to another and now we’re going to Hogsmeade together this weekend,” she squealed. 

“That’s…wow. I mean, finally, right? You’ve liked her for–”

Marlene held a finger up to shush him. “I know, I know. We don’t have to bring that up, do we? It was embarrassing enough and she only just decided to give me a chance.”

Remus chuckled, “Yeah, yeah, my lips are sealed. But you never know, maybe she’s fancied you just as long and was just playing it cool. Or maybe that’s the hopeless romantic in me,” he added at the doubtful look she shot him. 

Remus wasn’t really a hopeless romantic—or he tried not to be at least; he knew what false hope could do to someone—what it had done to him. Still, he longed to be wrong for once, or in this case, right. Perhaps he could be for Marlene and Dorcas. 

“Hey, your day will come,” Marlene said, as she latched onto his arm.

“This is about you, not me, Marls. I’m happy for you. Really, I am.”

“You can be happy and sad at the same time, Remus,” she said, patting his arm with a gentle smile. 

Remus’ chest tightened at her words. Thank Merlin for Marlene, he thought, not for the first time.

They parted ways upon reaching the common room, its warmth stark in contrast to the damp cold of the castle corridors. Remus caught Marlene’s arm before she walked away, “Oh, and Marlene?”

“Yeah?”

“It means a lot to me too. That you understand, that is.”

She smiled, cheeks flushed and full of a kind of joy he rarely saw on her face. “I know.”

****

Moony was with that kid again, the one that followed him around like a lost puppy. Sirius cracked his knuckles, a strange kind of rage bubbling in his veins as he watched from across the room as Remus patted the boy’s arm, causing him to beam as if he’d just been handed a gold medal. They sat down beside each other, much too close for Sirius’ liking, on the worn cushion in front of the window. 

Sirius tried to ignore it, he really did, but really, what could they possibly be talking about? What did they even have in common? Well, besides the obvious characteristics of a nerd. Moony wasn’t that kind of nerd, though. What’s his name, Keith? Craig? Chad? Oh, what did it matter? Campbell was a goody-toe-shoes, try-hard who had nothing better to do than blab on about essays and grades and how fascinating the art of astronomy was. 

Moony was different. Carl didn’t even have the looks going for him to make up for his horrible personality. So why was Moony giving him his attention? Was he just being nice?

“Hey, Sirius?” 

Sirius pulled his eyes away from Kent and Moony, his Moony– or wait, that wasn’t it, their Moony, the Marauders’, he corrected, before directing his attention back to Mary. 

“Yeah?” he asked. She was frowning at him from the opposite side of the couch, arms crossed over her chest in a way that made him feel like he was being tested, in more ways than one. Sirius, being the gentleman he was, kept his eyes on her face.

“Why do you look like you want to murder someone?” Mary asked. 

“I don’t,” he snapped. Realising how murderous his facial features did, in fact, feel, he relaxed his muscles and tried again. “I don’t.”

“Oh really. So you’re feeling like lying and being short with me today. Perfect.” 

“Fuck off.” 

“Oh, I will.” She gave him a scornful look. “But first…” Mary craned her head around to determine who had been on the receiving end of his wrath. Chris (oh right, that’s what it was) had just leaned in close to Remus, as if he wasn’t close enough, seeming to be telling him something—something just for them. He was fidgeting, which wasn’t unusual for the boy, but still, it made Sirius uncomfortable. 

“Oh, I see…” Mary mused, chuckling.

“What?” Sirius asked irritably, ignoring the jolt of nerves her comment gave him. 

“What has Christopher ever done to you, hey?” she questioned with a note of amusement.

“Would you look at him? He’s such a snob. He’s clearly bothering Moony, but he’s too nice to tell him to go away.” Sirius was sure that if he looked up the word annoying in the dictionary, he would find a picture of that pimply mosquito of a boy. 

Mary heaved an exasperated sigh. “I think you need to stop harbouring these grudges against people who don’t affect you. 

“I only do if I’ve been given a reason to!” he hissed at her. “Didn’t you hear what he said about muggleborns the other day?”

“That’s what’s bothering you? Because Chris is the least of my worries. He’s harmless. Some of his views may be stilted, yes, but from what I know, he’s a decent guy.”

“But–” Sirius tried, but Mary wasn’t done. 

“You can’t let it bother you, Sirius. We can handle ourselves. We don’t need you stepping in with your white knight complex and yelling at everyone who possibly looked at us the wrong way. And I think Remus can handle himself,” she said, gesturing over in time for them to see Chris rushing away from the window, cheeks visibly pink, leaving Remus scratching his neck, looking mildly embarrassed.

Sirius wanted to protest, to swear that he wasn’t being dramatic, but more than that he wanted to interrogate Moony for answers, and he couldn’t do that sitting there with Mary. So he bit back the retort forming on his tongue and crossed the room without another word. 

You’re going crazy, he thought to himself. He could feel Mary watching him, likely shaking her head at his idiocy, but he didn’t bother looking back to find out. 

“What did he want?” Sirius asked Remus as he slid in next to him, pulling his feet up onto the window seat. Remus pulled back, whether to give him extra room or to keep some distance between them, Sirius wasn’t sure.

Remus eyed him disdainfully. “None of your business, that’s what.” 

“Why not, I can keep a secret,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“Doesn’t concern you, Padfoot,” Remus told him, mindlessly flipping through a book he had pulled out within the ten seconds he’d had between Christopher leaving and Sirius sitting down.

“Moony,” Sirius whined. He nudged his foot with his own and tried for his best persuasive tone, “Don’t you care about my feelings.”

Remus rolled his eyes. He didn’t answer or meet his eye until Sirius had sufficiently stared him down. “You know the answer to that,” he finally said, brown eyes seeming to be saying things his words couldn’t convey. 

Sirius’ stomach lurched. Feeling foolish, he wondered whether Moony had only forgiven him because he cared about his feelings, because he hadn’t wanted to hurt him.

Sirius, unable to find his own words, held his stare, but it wasn’t long before it became too much and he had to look away. Moony never gave in—he was a stubborn bastard, but he also didn’t experience the same soul-burning magnetism that Sirius did under his gaze. 

Eventually, Moony took pity on him and relented, perhaps sensing his desperation. “He was asking me out,” he shrugged. 

Sirius inhaled so hard he started choking. “Oh,” he managed to gasp.

He expected Remus to crack a smile, shake his head and say, “Only kidding, mate. You really thought I was serious?” When he didn’t, Sirius’ insides squirmed as he realised Moony was expecting an answer. “That’s not what I thought you were gonna say,” was the only reply he could come up with. 

“What did you think I was gonna say?” Remus asked.

“I… don’t know.” The truth was it had briefly crossed his mind, what with how obsessed Christopher was with Moony, but Sirius had thought it was purely paranoia or some weird trick of his mind. 

“Well, what did you tell him?” he asked when Remus didn’t respond. Chris was a bastard, a little fucking bastard, trying to take Moony for himself. Sirius would not stand for that.

Remus quirked an eyebrow, “I said I didn’t think of him like that. He’s…not my type.”

“Yeah. ‘Course.” Obviously. Even still, Sirius felt a wave of relief come over him. 

Wait–

He’s not my type.

That didn’t mean Remus had a type of bloke, did it? Did it?!

It didn’t. It really didn’t. He had been joking, Sirius knew that. Fuck Moony and his dry humour. Clearly he had meant he wasn’t his type because he wasn’t a girl. 

Right?

Fuck, there was that feeble strand of hope. For a moment, Sirius let himself imagine the possibility: 

“He’s not my type,” Moony would say. “You know he’s not.”

“I know, Moons,” Sirius would respond back. “Because your type is long black hair with a superior taste in music.”

‘Exactly. Look, I never told you, but I was talking about you all along when I said that. I want you. All I want is you, Sirius. All I can think about is our kiss.’

Godric fucking Gryffindor. Sirius snapped himself out of it. 

“Don’t…tell anyone I told you that, okay?” Remus asked.

“Oh. Yeah, ‘course not. That would be like– like you telling everyone I was a vampire or something,” Sirius laughed. 

Remus gave him a strange look. “Sure, Padfoot. Something like that.”

****

The following afternoon, the students of Hogwarts savoured their last Hogsmeade weekend of the year, eager to make the most of their final moments of freedom before the whirlwind of exams began. 

This time, Sirius could enjoy the perks of having a date who was also friends with his friends, so the whole group of them headed down together. They were also joined by Dorcas Meadows, an unexpected addition. Though she had attended the Gryffindor parties on occasion, she had never really interacted much with the group, preferring to stick with her own friends. 

“Why is Meadows here?” Sirius whispered to James as they approached the edge of the village. A single drop of rain landed on his forehead, and he glanced up at the ominously darkening sky.

“She’s friends with Marlene. They make an interesting pair, don’t they?” James remarked. 

The two of them were walking side-by-side, a little ahead of the rest of the group. Marlene chatted animatedly, her hands moving excitedly as she spoke, while the dark-haired girl watched her intently, nodding along.

When they ducked into The Three Broomsticks, the place was already bustling with people. Every table was occupied, save for a booth in the far back. James put it upon himself to order drinks as everyone slid into the booth, removing their coats and tossing them onto the nearest coat rack. Sirius glanced around at the surrounding tables, watching as other students pulled up chairs and clinked their glasses together, catching up after the long week.

It wasn’t long before Marlene and Dorcas stood up to leave, Marlene mentioning something about needing a new set of quills. Moony quickly joined them. “I’ll come with you guys,” he said. “I have to run an errand too.”

An errand? Sirius wondered. That didn’t sound suspicious at all. 

Mary nudged him, “Hey, do you need to get anything while we’re here. We could go off on our own for a bit if you like.” She ran a finger along his arm.

“Err, yeah, um…” Sirius hesitated. It did sound nice to have some time alone together. Unfortunately, his mind was already out the door with Moony, itching to follow. “I’m sorry, Mary. There’s something I have to do,” he said, sliding off the bench and hurrying out the door.

Padfoot found him on the outskirts of the village, leaning against the wall inside the rusty old telephone booth. The dog padded quietly closer, trying to remain out of sight. He crouched behind a small bush, its brambles providing some cover, and pricked his ears, listening for his friend’s voice.

“Yeah, I know,” Moony was saying, not revealing much. “It’s– yeah...” 

Padfoot crept forward, needing to see as well as hear. He poked his head around the bush, ignoring the branch pressing into his side. While he couldn’t make out much detail, he could see Moony holding the phone in one hand, the other pressed against the wall. And he could smell him, that burnt sugar and chocolate, mixed with a more earthy, wolfish smell that Padfoot loved.

Moony continued, “Ever since we kissed, I just– I don’t know how to act.”

Padfoot sat up straight, a low whine escaping him before he could stop it. A moment later, Moony’s eyes were on him—too late.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I have to go,” Moony said, hanging up the phone. Padfoot retreated, belly low to the ground; he could smell the anger before he saw his expression.

“Sirius…” Moony’s voice was low and threatening. 

Padfoot whimpered again. 

“Turn back now,” he demanded.

Focusing on the other heartbeat and the image of the young boy in his mind’s eye, Padfoot transformed back into Sirius. 

“What the fuck, Sirius!” Remus yelled as soon as he was back.

“Godric, fuck– I know, I’m sorry,” Sirius said, wringing his hands. His stomach was one big knot in his throat and he tried to swallow back the nausea that had surfaced as soon as he left the dog’s body. He was still pretending, he realised. Moony hadn’t moved past the kiss like he had hoped, he still felt awkward about it. Not only that, but he had told someone. Someone knew about him, knew what he’d done. 

“Why am I even surprised,” Remus said, face lined with fury. “You push past my boundaries every single time. Don’t I deserve an ounce of privacy? Can you not respect that just a little? That not everything is meant for you to hear, that you aren’t entitled to every tiny detail?”

“You’re right, I–”

“Why did you come here Sirius? Why couldn’t you resist the temptation just this once?”

Apparently, he couldn’t. Moony knew exactly why. Temptation—why had he used that word? Just to taunt him? To bring up all of Sirius’ depraved desires? 

“I know, I’m horrible. You wish you could get rid of me, blah blah blah,” Sirius shot back, channelling his anger and embarrassment at himself onto Remus. “But you are so infuriating, do you know that?”

“Ha, oh I’m infuriating?!” Remus said, eyebrows raised to the sky in disbelief. “That’s rich coming from you ‘cause you’re the bloody bane of my existence!”

“Fuck you,” Sirius said. What he really was thinking was, please, just kiss me, just one more time.

“Fuck you,” Remus said back. He ran a hand through his hair, curls tumbling like waterfalls. “This is pointless. We’re running in circles. Like we always do. I won’t put up with it anymore.” He marched away.

Sirius reached out, seizing his arm. “Yeah, we’re running in circles, and for no reason. There’s clearly things you aren’t saying, so why don’t you just say them! There’s no one else here. It’s just us! So say it!”

“I don’t have to say anything to you! You’re the one who never admits anything! Who never lets anyone see what’s really going on. What did you mean, when you said telling people about Chris would be like me telling people you're a vampire?”

“It’s–” fuck “–nothing! It was a metaphor. I see that it doesn't make sense now, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“For what?”

“What?” Sirius asked, confused. A flash of light streaked across the sky, followed by the rumbling crack of thunder. It seemed the gods were just as riled up as they were.

“A metaphor for what, Sirius?”

Flushing, Sirius scrambled to find a way to explain without revealing everything—everything he’d thought Moony already knew. “I don’t know. Just that lots of people have secrets, and who am I to go telling someone else’s when I have things I don’t want people to know or talk about either.”

Remus pressed his lips together, looking pained. He breathed in deeply, shoulders losing some of their tension, and Sirius knew the fight had left him. 

“Tell me what I can do to fix things, Moony,” Sirius said, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice yet again. “I just want things back to how they were.”

“That’s the problem, isn’t it?,” Remus said, his eyes reflecting the regret Sirius felt. “We can’t go back. It’s too late for that.”

“I know. I just wish…” he began. “Forget it, you’re right. I’ll leave you to your call.”

He paused, watching the thoughts flicker across Moony’s face, unable to determine what any of them meant. Turning back to the safety of Padfoot, he scampered up the hill, tail between his legs.

Relief never came, even as the clouds broke open and the rain poured down on him.

Notes:

the scene w chris is inspired by the one in atyd that I just loved (but w/out remus playing it off as a joke)

Chapter 22: the letters

Summary:

Is this...progress I'm seeing??

Light pink sky up on the roof

Sun sinks down, no curfew

Twenty questions, we tell the truth

You've been stressed out lately? Yeah, me too

Something gave you the nerve

To touch my hand

It's nice to have a friend

~Taylor Swift (It’s nice to have a friend)

 

As the term drew to a close, along with the fifth year’s OWLs, Sirius found himself procrastinating more than ever, avoiding everything until the last possible moment. The most nerve-wracking of all, beyond any of the painstaking assignments or supposedly brutal finals, was the realisation that he had to break up with Mary. 

This was something he had known for far too long, despite how much he enjoyed her company or how happy they might have been together (spoiler alert, they weren’t that happy). They riled each other up and they argued often, insulting each other past the point of what was acceptable. The baseline problem was that they wanted different things. Mary wanted a loving and attentive partner who waited on her hand and foot. Sirius…well, Sirius wanted a certain tall someone with anger issues, who was too smart for his own good, and who also happened to partake in a monthly ritual of howling at the moon. Sirius shared this interest, and had concluded that they would suit each other much better–not that he’d ever have the guts to admit it.

All in all, he had come to the conclusion that to stay with Mary would be wrong. For months he had been lying, and not just to himself. Deep down, he had always known he would never truly deserve Mary, and as much as he had hoped it would, dating her hadn’t quelled the terrible longing he had for his best friend. So, for once, Sirius was going to do the right thing—after he’d gathered up the courage, that was. And if Remus put two and two together and assumed he’d done it because of him, well…actually Sirius didn’t know what he’d say, but that was a later issue. He had experienced enough uncomfortable conversations lately.

Since their row in Hogsmeade, Remus and Sirius had acted exactly as friends would. It seemed they were under an unspoken agreement to keep any and all weirdness at bay for the sake of their friends. In a group, one could almost completely miss the tension simmering just below the surface. When they were left alone, that was a different story altogether. 

It had only happened a handful of times—James would step out of the dorm to grab something or other he’d forgotten downstairs, or Sirius would zone out while Peter packed up his textbooks, leaving him scrambling to catch up, or else face the awkward silence with Remus that followed. And make no mistake, there was silence. No one did uncomfortable silence quite like they did. It seemed their friends filled all of the awkward pauses, and without them, Sirius found himself frozen, unsure what to do or say next. 

His uncertainty over how to navigate his feelings for Remus and their constantly shifting dynamic only compounded Sirius’ anxiety. It made him that much more reluctant to end things with Mary, someone he had once relied on for stability, only to be faced with losing that connection too. 

So it wasn’t the fear of Mary taking it badly or hating him forever that made Sirius delay the inevitable, but that he desperately wanted to keep her in his life, to remain friends, and the thought of putting all that he wanted to say into words in a way that could make her understand overwhelmed him to no end. 

So, he delayed it. He waited and delayed, and waited some more, right up until the very last possible moment. And no, that wasn’t the week before exams, nor the day of the end-of-year feast, nor even the morning before they departed from school; no, Sirius only found the courage because he absolutely had to—about half an hour before the Hogwarts Express arrived at Platform Nine and Three Quarters. 

After requesting a moment alone with Mary, they left the shared compartment, accompanied by teasing whistles from their friends. Moony didn’t even glance up. He had his head against the window, the scenery rushing by in a blur behind him. Perhaps he was asleep. 

Sirius and Mary found an empty compartment further down the corridor. As soon as the door was closed, Mary spoke, abruptly cutting off the speech he was rehearsing in his head. 

“So we’re breaking up, huh?”

Sirius froze. “We– er…that’s– how did you know?”

Mary placed her hands on her hips. “Intuition,” she said mildly. 

“I’m sorry, Mary. I’ve been a shit boyfriend. I just…I don’t think we want the same things.”

“Well, shit Sherlock. I think you’re onto something.”

Sirius cringed, but he knew he deserved it. 

“Is there… any way we can still be friends?” he asked. 

He expected her to lash out, to ask how he could make such a preposterous request after all he’d done–or more accurately, not done–but instead, Mary’s eyes softened, overwhelming him with relief as she said, “Of course we can, you idiot. Tu n'espérais pas te débarrasser de moi si facilement n'est-ce pas ?”

“Vraiment ?”

“Ce n'est pas parce que tu t'es révélé être un amant insatisfaisant que je ne souhaite plus être ton amie,” she said, as if it were obvious. 

“Excuse me!” Sirius said, shooting her a hurt look. “I was more than satisfactory.”

Mary laughed, loud and carefree and so very Mary. “Satisfactory boyfriend, then.”

“Fine,” Sirius conceded. “I really am sorry, Mary.”

“I know,” she nodded. “But I appreciate that you had the nerve to say something.” She gestured to the door, and he followed her as they made their way back to their friends.

“Well, actually, you’re the one who said something first,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but I knew you were going to. Just thought I’d help you out. It was pretty obvious you were, like, totally panicking.”

He grimaced. “It’s true. I was.”

“Yeah. For like all of June.”

“What, you knew? Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“Wanted to keep you on your toes,” she said, flashing him a mischievous grin over her shoulder. “I thought it’d be more fun to watch you struggle.”

“Rude,” he said, shoving her lightly from behind.

“What, you think you deserve better?” she asked as they paused in front of the compartment doors.

“Fair enough,” he admitted. “You do deserve better, though.”

She smiled softly. “You deserve whatever it is you’re looking for, too. I don’t know what that is, but I’m sure it’ll all work out in the end.”

Sirius glanced into the compartment where their friends were waiting. Remus was still turned away, face resting gently on his hand, eyes closed, “Maybe,” he said, if only for her sake. 

****

To Moony,

Hope all is well at St. Edmunds. We’re all good here.

You should see my room. I’ve finally got it decorated, courtesy of Andromeda—she sent a bunch of new posters, Bowie and Queen and the sort. I think you’d like them. If we have to share a room at all this summer I’ll make sure to put the cartoon Bowie one you say is so creepy right above your head—give you a right start in the morning!

James wants to know what day you think you can visit. He’s already told his parents you’re coming so it’s a done deal. 

Is it good to see your friend? You know, the one who stole our dear old Moony’s first kiss? 

Hope you’re having fun (but not too much fun). Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do haha.

~Sirius

 

Sirius,

Everything’s fine here. That friend isn’t in the area anymore, but it’s okay. I’m doing fine. 

That’s great, glad you’re getting settled in. You deserve it. 

I should be able to come for all of August, if you’ll all still have me.  

From Remus

 

Moony,

I feel like we left things off in kind of a weird place and I just wanted to say sorry. For being nosy, for asking for more than I should, for not giving you enough space, all that bs. I know you said we can’t go back and that’s fine, I don’t expect you to be able to forget, but I hope we can find a new normal next year—a new us. I promise I won’t screw it up again. 

Sorry to hear about your friend.

We’ll be awaiting your arrival on August 1st. No later. 

~Sirius

 

Dear Sirius,

As crazy as you drive me sometimes, you didn’t screw anything up. It was my fault when it counted. So I guess what I’m saying is, I’m sorry too. We had a great year, didn’t we? (until I went and…well, you know). 

Anyways, I think it’s a good plan. I’m in. 

-R

 

Dear Moony,

You can’t be Sirius??? Oh wait I am. (I know, horrible joke, please forgive me).

But no seriously (hah), did you really think it was your fault? It wasn’t. Please know it wasn’t. 

Fifth year was my favourite by far. 

~Sirius x

 

Dear Sirius,

Once is more than enough times. I will have to stop speaking to you permanently if you make that joke again. This is your last warning. 

(I’m serious).

Maybe sixth year will be even better. 

-Remus x

****

The sun was just beginning to peek through the trees when Remus knocked on the Potter’s front door on the first of August. Shifting from foot to foot, he waited on the doorstep, keenly aware of who resided just inside.

Remus straightened as the door clicked open and Effie Fleamont’s smiling face appeared behind it. 

“Remus!” she said warmly. “We were wondering when you might turn up!” She pulled him into a hug, her dark hair brushing his cheek as the familiar scents of their home filled his senses—spices and eucalyptus and something distinctly Potter that he couldn’t quite place.

James appeared in the entrance hall as Effie pulled away, “Moony! You made it. About time!” He jumped forward, grabbing Remus in a hearty embrace and clapping him on the back. “How ya doin’, mate?”

“Good. Great,” Remus replied, glancing around. 

“Glad to hear it. Sirius is–”

There came a loud thump from the hallway. A moment later, Sirius came through the doorway, skidding to a halt in front of them. Remus’ breath caught in his throat as their eyes locked across the room. He was still wearing his pyjama bottoms, hair a rumpled mess from sleep, and a spot of toothpaste at the corner of his mouth. The sight of him, clearly having rushed down at the sound of the door, pulled at Remus’ heartstrings. He wondered if Sirius had somehow become more handsome over the past couple months, or whether that was just the time apart. 

“You– I thought you weren’t coming till later tonight,” Sirius said, eyes never leaving Remus’ face. 

“Couldn’t wait,” Remus said, his arms hanging limply at his sides after handing his bags over to Effie. 

“Well, go on,” James interjected. “Give him a hug or something. I didn’t hear all that whinging about Moony not being here for you to greet him like this.”

Remus arched a brow, “What’s this I hear? Missed me, did you, Black?”

Sirius was busy flipping James the bird, but then he turned to Remus with an amused smile and shrugged, opening his arms.

He had intended to leave a bit of a gap, but Sirius sank right into him, and Remus couldn’t help but wrap his arms around his shoulders, pulling him against his chest. Doing his best to appear unaffected despite the overwhelming feeling that was having Sirius in his arms, he gave him a friendly pat on the back, just as James had done. As they parted, their eyes met again, and Remus swore the entire room could hear his heart pounding. “You’ve got some…toothpaste,” he said to fill the pressing silence, pointing to the corner of his mouth. 

Sirius blinked, cheeks flushing slightly. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Got it?”

“Yeah,” Remus breathed. 

James clapped his hands together. “Alright! Moony, you’re just in time for breakfast!”

“Oh! Er… Right,” Remus said, scratching his neck nervously. “Sorry for coming so early,” he added, turning to Effie.

“Nonsense! There’s plenty of food to go around,” she said kindly. She placed a hand on James’ shoulder, “Jamie, love, why don’t we set the table now, and Sirius can show Remus to his room.”

“Oh yeah, I should probably change as well,” Sirius said, glancing down at his pyjamas sheepishly. 

Once they had disappeared into the kitchen, Sirius and Remus made their way up the stairs to the bedrooms. Upon reaching Remus’ room, Sirius leapt forward, opening the door with a flourish. “After you, good sir,” he declared. 

“I’ve stayed in here before, you know,” Remus said as he stepped past him into the room.

“Doesn’t mean you don’t deserve the proper guest treatment,” Sirius answered. “New mattress,” he added, plopping himself down on the bed. It looked incredibly comfy, judging by how he sank into it. 

“Does that treatment include trying out the mattress before the guest gets a chance?” Remus joked. 

“There’s room enough for both of us,” Sirius smirked, patting the space next to him. Remus sat down hesitantly, leaning back on his hands. It was indeed very comfortable. Remus, however, was more focused on whether Sirius had just been flirting with him. He busied himself with looking around the room rather than acknowledging it. It was an elegant space, larger than was necessary for one person, but its neutral green wallpaper brought a sense of tranquillity to the room and Remus breathed in a sigh of relief—it was good to be back.

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting changed?” he asked Sirius after a long stretch of silence.

“I will, I will,” Sirius promised, but he didn’t make a move to get up. Instead, he flopped down onto his back. “Okay, this is definitely a nicer mattress than mine.” 

“I find that hard to believe. Effie and Fleemont would only have the best for their darling Sirius,” Remus said, watching him. Sirius’ hair was splayed out around him on the bed, a dark cascade of black. Remus wanted to run his fingers through it as he had that night; it felt like ages ago, but he still hadn’t forgotten the sensation. 

“Go on then. Try it if you’re so sure,” Sirius said, running a hand along the duvet. 

Giving in, Remus lay down next to him. The cushion immediately moulded to his body, and the soft blankets invited him in, begging to be crawled under. 

“So?” Sirius asked. He didn’t look at Remus, just continued to stare at the ceiling.

“Yeah, very nice,” Remus told him. “Though since I’m not comparing it to your bed, it’s not a valid comparison.”

“Well, you’ve slept in my bed before,” Sirius reminded him—as if he needed to. 

Remus shrugged his shoulders, even though Sirius couldn’t see. “Was a while ago.”

“Guess you’ll have to come try it out again,” Sirius said simply.

Remus’ heart stuttered. Turning onto his side, he knocked his foot into Sirius’ playfully. Sirius turned to face him. Without thinking, Remus saw the opportunity and took it, “Are you flirting with me, Black?” 

He was rewarded with Sirius’ smirk. “Who, me? Never. I’m a perfect gentleman.”

“Of course,” Remus nodded calmly, keeping the right amount of amusement in his tone. On the inside, his mind was in chaos, a whirlwind of emotions.

Their eyes found each other, no way to look away. The energy Remus only felt with Sirius hummed in the air around them and oh, how he had missed that feeling. It was what kept pulling him back; he was addicted to it. Sirius was addictive .

“I’m glad you’re back, Moony,” Sirius whispered.

“I’m glad to be back,” Remus answered truthfully. 

What he really meant was, I’m glad to have us back.

****

The first couple weeks at the Potter’s was a sort of glorious vacation. Freed from the chains of their previous issues, Remus and Sirius dove headfirst into their new normal. They spent every waking minute together, along with James and often Peter, of course. Remus realised he had been living by these worries, these rules he had created for their relationship without consulting with Sirius, without completely understanding his side to the situation. Knowing that Sirius had truly never blamed him for the kiss–and in actuality, had been blaming himself for what had gone wrong–well, that had changed everything.

They didn’t hold back, they didn’t worry about boundaries, and they didn’t try to forget the past. They just were. 

It wasn’t exactly a flawless plan, however. Without boundaries or the assumption that they’d both prefer to remain at a distance, Remus was finding himself in many a tight situation—both metaphorically and, not so much. 

They spent nearly every day playing quidditch, though for Remus this consisted of hovering a few feet above ground as he read his books, using the broom more as a seat than anything else. But when they weren’t playing, they would lie in the grass with their shirts off, soaking up the sun. Remus found this pastime quite agreeable, and when he caught Sirius’ eyes lingering as his too were, it was that much more so. 

And then there were the rainy afternoons with nothing to do but take shelter and try to stay warm, and Sirius’ feet would find their way over to Remus’ side of the couch as everyone cosied up in front of the fire. When this happened, Remus would close his eyes, pretending to be asleep and chant to himself: it doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything. Sirius was a cuddly person, that’s all it was. And if Sirius’ foot slid up a bit further than necessary, far enough that the message got a little lost in his brain and Remus found himself grateful for the blanket over him, well… he tried not to think about it too much. 

Still, he couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that Sirius was messing him around, and that he needed to stop it, whatever it was—if it was anything at all. 

Remus hadn’t forgotten about Mary. He hadn’t missed their little farewell, how they’d snuck away to get a moment alone together before the long summer apart. How sweet they were; just thinking about it made his teeth ache, if only from how hard he was clenching his jaw. 

So if Sirius wanted to continue on like it was nothing, like this was just some fun little game, then fine, let him try. But Remus was done sitting back and allowing it. Two could play at this game, so why shouldn’t he have some fun of his own?

Someone was going to crack, Remus decided, and it wasn’t going to be him.

Chapter 23: a taste of your own medicine

Notes:

hope everyone’s good (or at least as good as you can be as a marauders fan). pls tell me what you think of the chapter in the comments I love seeing your thoughts!! xx

And I'll tell you one thing, honey

I can take the upper hand and touch your body

Flip the script and leave you like a dumb house party

Or I might just love you 'til the end

Whether I'm gonna be your wife or, gonna smash up your bike, I

Haven't decided yet, but I'm gonna get you back

Whether I'm gonna flip you off or, pull you into the closet

I haven't decided yet, but I'm gonna get you back

~Taylor Swift (imgonnagetyouback)

 

Sirius should’ve known his actions would come back to bite him in the arse. They always did. Currently, they had him in a panic. A good panic, but panic nonetheless. 

The problem was that Sirius didn't think—or rather, he either thought too much or not enough. It was one or the other, there was no in between. In this case, it was the latter, because Sirius had been blatantly flirting with Remus, pretty much since the moment he’d arrived on their doorstep. 

Ever since the day his trembling fingers had opened Remus’ letter, Sirius felt as if he’d fallen into some sort of dream land. He was floating on a cloud, an inexplicable, unprecedented hope spreading through him until it filled every corner of his being. It made him do dangerous things. 

It wasn’t about courage or bravery—it was that he quite literally couldn’t help himself. It was reckless, but he kept doing it, feeling like a madman, knowing he was corrupting more than just himself. It was selfish, but he couldn’t stop.

And whether it was unawareness, pity, or maybe just a little bit more, Remus let him. 

So Sirus shouldn’t have been surprised–or at least he shouldn’t have been so stunned–when the tables turned, when Remus reciprocated it. Was he imagining it? Sirius didn’t know, but it sure as hell felt like something.

It started one evening at dinner. Effie and Fleemont were out at some meeting or other and wouldn’t be back until late, so the boys had cooked for themselves with the help of Gully, the house elf.

It was much quieter with just the three of them. Something about the silence and the lack of bodies in the room made Sirius feel horribly awkward. Or maybe it had more to do with who was sitting across from him at the dinner table.

The real issue was figuring out where the bloody hell he was supposed to look; he spent more time calculating how long he was allowed to stare at Moony without it being obvious than actually eating. As a result, he was always the last one to finish. That wasn’t new—Sirius had always been a slow eater. Peter once told him he ate like a princess, the bloody traitor. Naturally, Sirius had tried to stop at once, but the habits drilled into him by his mother were nearly as stubborn as his feelings for Moony. Ironically, she’d also spent a great deal of effort trying to…well, teach him to not be like his uncle, let’s just say. 

Remus, on the other hand, tucked into his food without a second thought, focused solely on his plate. He was currently gnawing on a chicken bone, nothing but hunger evident behind those amber eyes. So it caught Sirius off guard when, just as he’d resigned himself to staring down at his plate, Remus spoke. 

“Oh, Sirius, you were in my dream last night.” 

Sirius looked up, surprised—and stupidly relieved to have an excuse to do so. His obsession was getting out of hand. 

“Oh yeah?” he asked curiously. “What happened?”

“I was trying to read, and you kept pestering me,” Remus said, setting the chicken bone aside and wiping his hands on his napkin. 

James elbowed Sirius, chuckling. “Sounds about right.”

Sirius swatted his napkin at him. “Hey, that’s not nice,” he sulked. “Moony, do you really want to get rid of me that badly?”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Remus shrugged, reaching for the pitcher of water. The muscles in his shoulder tightened as he poured himself another glass. “I took care of you and then went back to my book.”

Sirius swallowed. “That doesn’t sound menacing at all.”

“I think he’s trying to tell you something,” James smirked. 

A shiver of heat ran through him. It wasn’t his fault Moony had worded it the way he had. “Remind me to steer clear of this one when he’s reading from now on,” he told James, throwing a wary glance at Remus.

Then, without thinking, Sirius said, “You were in my dream the other night too, Moons.”

“Oh really?” Remus asked, lips curving up at the corner. “What happened in yours?”

“What about me?” James whined. “You guys don’t love me anymore?”

What had happened in that dream? Oh right—they’d gone mattress shopping together and had brought a new one back to his room and then– Oh. Oh right, Sirius thought as he recalled more of the dream. Bugger, never mind. 

It had been a good dream though. Sirius didn’t imagine Remus’ dream had been like that. 

“So?” Remus prodded. Belatedly, Sirius realised James had left the room. They were alone. 

“Oh, um…” Sirius fiddled with his napkin ring, twirling it between his fingers. “We just, like, went shopping, basically.”

“What kind of shopping?” 

“Furniture,” Sirius mumbled.

“How very…random,” Remus commented, eyeing him. His Adam's apple bobbed as he took several long gulps of water.

Sirius nodded, feeling painfully scrutinised. Moony’s foot brushed against his under the table. Where was James when he needed him? 

“Well!” Sirius said, jumping up. “Better go help in the kitchen like the good housewife I am.” Grabbing the salt and pepper shakers, he fled.

****

After dinner, they spent a quiet evening in the living room. James and Remus were happily absorbed in their own activities, and Sirius, remembering Remus’ earlier warning, left him to his book. Instead, he entertained himself by snooping around and eventually found an old photo album of baby James. He settled down on the couch with it, delighted.

His favourite photo was one of two-year old James on a broomstick. The little boy had the same messy dark hair as the current James and was giggling, chubby fingers gripping a miniature broomstick as he zoomed around the room, chased by a younger, tired but adoring Effie. 

“Moony, come look at this!” Sirius called as Remus returned from the kitchen with two mugs of tea. “It’s baby James on a broom!”

“Yep,” James said proudly. “Been flying since birth.”

Remus set the mugs on the table and leaned over the back of the couch, fingers pressing against Sirius’ shoulder as he peered down at the photo album. 

“Which one?” Remus asked, his breath tickling Sirius’ neck, causing goosebumps to erupt down his arms.

Sirius practically leapt off the couch. “Here, this one. Take it!” He shoved the album into Remus’ hands. 

“Well, now, wait a minute,” Remus said, coming around to the front of the couch. He pulled Sirius back down by the wrist. “We can look together. What are you panicking for?”

“Nothing, just– never mind,” Sirius stammered, butterflies fluttering wildly in his stomach at the sudden overwhelm of touch. Moony hadn’t touched him this much in the last five months. It was enough to stir up certain dangerous thoughts. 

And how was it that Moony always noticed? He wasn’t a Legilimens, Sirius reminded himself, but he wasn’t convinced. 

“Can I just…?” Remus began, leaning across Sirius with hardly a moment’s warning. His hand came down on the other side of Sirius, trapping him in. Sirius jerked back, his breath hitching—there was no way Moony hadn’t heard it. For one delirious moment, Sirius thought—but then Remus simply reached out to grab his tea. 

He carefully leaned back, the mug precariously full, and their eyes met over the smell of chai. Sirius could have collapsed on the stop, sure he was having a full blown stroke due to the lack of oxygen to his brain. 

Sirius endured several long seconds of silence, before James noticed Sirius’ obvious panic.

“Alright there, Padfoot?” James asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Sirius choked out a nervous laugh. “Yeah, just… remembered something.” And it was horrible, but it was the only thing that came to him, “Regulus. I was thinking about Regulus.”

“Oh…” James' face fell, eyes turning unbearingly kind. “I’m really sorry, mate.”

Sirius was too—even more so that he’d used his brother as an excuse. He wondered where Regulus was, what he was doing. Sirius hadn’t thought about him enough lately, he realised. Guilt gnawed at his insides. Where was Regulus? What had he done? Where had he gone? 

But then a warm pressure settled on his arm, and Sirius looked up, his heart flipping in confusion at the warmth Remus’ hand brought him; suddenly, it was beating for an entirely different reason. Remus nodded at him, thumb brushing comfortingly over Sirius’ skin. It wasn’t pity, but understanding. 

Sirius nodded back, and it didn’t feel wrong—the relief his friend gave him. It didn’t feel wrong at all. 

****

The following day was just like any other—sun blazing down as they sprawled out in the grass. With Peter around, they could have easily played a round of Quidditch, but no one bothered to suggest it. Instead, they remained where they were, soaking up the hot August sun. 

Sirius sighed drowsily, rolling over onto his back and draping an arm over his face to shield his eyes. He snuck a peek at Remus, who lay face down with his arms stretched above his head, back slightly arched in relaxed ease. His skin had deepened to a warm, sun-kissed bronze over the past few days, and Sirius couldn’t help but notice how the lean muscles across his back pulled as he shifted, the ridges of his shoulder blades highlighted by the sunlight. For a moment, Sirius let himself drink in the sight–the peaceful curve of Remus’s lips–until one of Remus’s eyes blinked open, half-lidded against the sun, as if sensing Sirius watching.

Sirius snapped his eyes back to the sky, feigning interest in the drifting clouds, as though he hadn’t been caught blatantly staring. But the weight of Remus’s gaze still lingered on him, and Sirius couldn’t resist stealing another look. A faint, knowing smirk tugged at Remus’s lips.

“See something you like?” Remus’s voice was sleepy, teasing, but it sent a shiver down Sirius’ spine.

Sirius tutted, rolling his eyes with what he hoped passed for indifference. “Just making sure you haven’t died from heatstroke,” he quipped.

“Right,” Remus drawled, the smirk fully formed now. But then he let it go, closing his eyes again as if nothing had happened. Sirius wished he could do the same–brush it off and forget Remus’s teasing words–but the warmth creeping up his neck betrayed him.

“Boys!” Effie’s voice rang out from the porch. “I made some lemonade!”

With reluctant groans, they roused themselves from the grass and headed inside, motivated more by the promise of cold lemonade than any real desire to move.

The kitchen was bathed in sunlight, with a pitcher of lemonade sweating on the counter and a tray of glasses beside it. Remus and Peter each grabbed a glass, thanking Effie before slipping back outside, eager to return to the sun-soaked lawn. Sirius hung back with James, taking a moment to cool off. Effie smiled at them as she set out some biscuits, but then, completely taking Sirius off guard, she said, “Have either of you heard from any of your friends recently? You know you’re always welcome to invite Mary over if you’d like, Sirius.”

Sirius' grip tightened around his glass, but he forced his expression to remain neutral. “Er… no, I haven’t. We, uh, actually broke up,” he said quickly. “Thank you, though.”

James nearly choked on his drink. “What?!” he exclaimed in disbelief. “And you didn't think to mention that?”

Sirius shrugged, trying to downplay it. “Didn’t seem like a big deal.”

“Not a big deal? Not a big deal?! ” James cried in outrage. “How long have you been broken up? A month? Two–”

The sound of shattering glass cut him off mid-sentence. They looked over, and Sirius’ heart skipped a beat. Remus was standing in the doorway, his now-empty glass in pieces across the wooden floor. His expression was caught between surprise and something harder to decipher. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“Sorry,” was all Remus said, helplessly staring down at the mess.

Effie quickly waved her wand, clearing the glass away. “Don’t worry, dear. Problem solved,” she said, her gaze flicking between Sirius and Remus. Sirius managed a tight smile, suddenly very interested in his drink.

“Moony! Did you know about this?” James demanded, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

Remus made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a cough. “‘Course not, Prongs. You think he’d tell me over you?”

“He tells me nothing anymore, clearly.” 

“Oh, come off it,” Sirius said, turning to James and placing his hands on his shoulders—anything to avoid looking at Remus. “You know I love you, you silly prat.”

“Alright, so I deserve to have all my questions answered now, don’t I?” James countered, gripping Sirius’ arms in return.

“There’s nothing to tell. We decided to break up, and that’s that. Done,” Sirius insisted, pleading silently for James to drop it. But this was James—of course he wouldn’t.

“A likely story,” James said.

“That is the story,” Sirius shot back. 

“What’s going on? What did I miss?” Peter walked in with an empty glass in hand.

“Nothing,” Sirius huffed.

“It seems Sirius and Mary have called it quits,” Remus relayed, sounding bored. 

“Really?” Peter asked, more curious than concerned. “Why?”

Sirius leaned back against the counter, running a hand through his hair. “Just weren’t right for each other. That happens sometimes,” he said, pointedly looking at James.

“Yes, I’m aware,” James retorted sarcastically.

“Who broke up with who?” Peter pressed.

“It was… she broke up with me,” Sirius finally said.

“No way. Sirius Black dumped?! Who would’ve thought.”

“Wormtail,” James hissed. “Have some tact.”

“I don’t need tact. I agreed with her. We work better as friends,” Sirius said firmly. 

“If you say so,” Peter replied, unconvinced.

Sirius didn’t bother arguing further. If they wanted to think he was more torn up than he actually was, it made hiding the real reason that much easier…

****

The bathroom was filled with the low hum of running water, steam fogging up the mirror. Sirius leaned over the sink, absently brushing his teeth while keeping a subtle eye on Remus, who had just emerged from the shower. Remus’ soft pyjama shirt clung to his slightly damp body, his hair tousled and curling from the steam. 

“Move over, will you,” Remus said, nudging him so he could run his toothbrush under the tap. 

“Bossy,” Sirius garbled around his own toothbrush. 

Remus chuckled. “Only for you.”

Sirius’ heart did an annoying little flip as he shook his head at Remus through the mirror, still scrubbing away at his teeth. 

“Do you think you got them all,” Remus teased. 

“Huh?” 

“That’s some thorough teeth brushing.”

“Oh, I lost track,” Sirius said, quickly rinsing out his mouth, feeling very watched. When he straightened and returned his toothbrush to its holder, he found Remus staring at him with that familiar half-smirk—the one that always made Sirius feel like his insides were unravelling.

He lingered as Remus too rinsed his mouth and set his toothbrush aside, wiping his face.

“So… you and Mary,” Remus said, dropping the teasing tone. “That’s really over, huh?”

Sirius’ stomach tightened. “Yep,” he said, shrugging casually.

Remus watched him, waiting as if expecting more. When Sirius didn’t elaborate, he said, “You don’t seem too broken up about it. Then again… I can never really guess what you’re feeling.”

Sirius swallowed. “Nah, it’s fine. She’s great, but it wasn’t… what I thought it would be.” He kept his tone light, but each word felt heavy with unspoken meaning.

“What did you think it would be?” Remus asked, turning fully to face him, leaning his hip against the counter.

Sirius mirrored the move, inching closer until their hands nearly touched on the marble surface. “I dunno… just that dating a friend would feel different.”

“And it didn’t?” Remus guessed.

“Not how I’d hoped, no.” And why was he still talking? How did Moony always manage to coax these confessions out of him, making him admit what he tried so hard to hide?

The charged silence that followed was almost unbearable. Then, Remus’s fingers shifted, brushing lightly against Sirius’. The touch was so fleeting it was barely there, but it sent sparks shooting up Sirius' arm, making his pulse race.

Sirius stayed perfectly still, afraid to breathe, convinced that Remus was messing with him—any second, he’d laugh and say, “Gotcha! You really thought!”

But Remus didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned in just a little closer, his eyes searching Sirius'. Sirius hoped he found what he was looking for. They were so close now—close enough for him to see the faint freckles on Remus’s cheeks and catch the lingering scent of soap on his skin. It was torture.

Remus’s expression shifted, his gaze flicking down for the briefest moment. Sirius didn’t miss it. A bomb could’ve gone off behind them, and he wouldn’t have cared—he was too caught up in the magnetic pull between them, helpless as the desire took hold, every nerve screaming at him to close the gap…

The door swung open, and they sprang apart.

They both busied themselves as best they could—Remus straightening the towel he’d just hung up and Sirius raking his fingers through his hair, neither of them daring to meet the other’s eyes.

“There you two are!” James burst in, oblivious to the moment he’d just shattered.

“Here we are!” Sirius practically yelped, throwing his arms out in front of him, his face burning.

“What were you guys doing in here for so long?”

”Oh, you know, just…” Sirius tried, rather pathetically.

”…practising our dental hygiene,” Remus finished for him.

Sirius glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, relieved to see that his cheeks were equally flushed. James kept talking, but Sirius didn’t hear a word of it. 

Chapter 24: killer karma

Summary:

sirius discovers real jealousy

Notes:

sorry guys I was camping and got partially mauled by a bear... is what I would say if I was suffering from the ao3 writer's curse (3 months free!! for now)
I was indeed camping tho and had to write this on paper first lol but anyways here ya go

Screaming, crying, perfect storms

I can make all the tables turn

Rose garden filled with thorns

Keep you second guessin' like

"Oh my God, who is she?"

I get drunk on jealousy

But you'll come back each time you leave

'Cause darling, I'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream

~Taylor Swift (Blank Space)

 

Remus hadn’t been able to shake the gnawing feeling that something was wrong. It wasn’t logical—there was no concrete evidence, just that cold, sinking dread that settled in his chest like a stone. Remus had sent Grant three letters since school had let out, but he hadn’t heard back after a single one. Normally they didn’t write each other so often, but the complete lack of response was enough to make him worry, and Remus had learned that his instincts were often right, even when he wished they weren’t.

He debated how to approach the situation. Did he tell the others? He didn’t want to simply run away without an explanation, didn't want to seem ungrateful for the Potter’s hospitality, but telling them about Grant wasn’t an option. They would only tell him he was being paranoid and try to convince him to drop it. And it was Grant. He was important. Remus kept Grant close to his chest, much like everything else in his life. He wasn’t about to share every single detail just like that.

The house was quiet as he crept from his room. It seemed everyone had slept in that morning, worn out by the long day in the sun, and he had no trouble slipping out the front door unnoticed. Once he’d made it to the road, he booked it to the phone booth at the edge of town. He had almost considered heading straight for London, but he didn’t want to bring all of the questions he was sure to receive to the surface unless absolutely necessary. His heart thudded loudly as he dialled the number for the flat where Grant had been staying. He held his breath as the line rang—once, twice—before a curt voice answered.

“Yeah, ‘e’s still here,” the voice said, clipped and uninterested, but earning Remus a breath of relief, before he said, “‘asn’t been around in a few days though.”

“Where’s he gone?” Remus demanded, dropping the niceties as panic crept back in.

“‘ow should I know? I’m not ‘is keeper,” the man said.

“Well, do you know someone who does?”

Remus had to pull the phone away from his ear at the loud, static-filled sigh they heaved at him. After a number of muffled shouts in which Remus wondered if he was being hung up on, there came a response. 

“Ralph ‘ere says ‘e’s seen ‘im at the pub last Thursday. That’s the last we’ve heard from ‘im.”

Thursday. That was nearly a week ago. That wasn’t nearly good enough for Remus.

“Thanks,” he muttered, hanging up the receiver. 

****

The club was dark and crowded, the bass thrumming through the floor as Remus weaved through clusters of people. The sharp smell of alcohol and sweat clung to the air, mingling with cigarette smoke and cheap cologne. He scanned the room, searching for the familiar mop of messy curls and lanky frame. And then he saw him—slumped in a booth, head resting against the backrest, eyes half-lidded. Relief washed over Remus, followed quickly by concern as he approached and noticed the bruises. What the hell had Grant gotten himself into?

“Grant,” Remus called as he stepped up to the booth. “You look like shit.”

Grant’s head shot up, eyes searching before a lazy grin had stretched across his face as he recognized Remus. “Remus Lupin, what in Christ’s name are you doin’ ‘ere?”

It turned out he’d been sleeping on the underground, riding around on the trains by day, before getting pissed in the clubs at night. It seemed Grant had had his heart broken and it was only by luck that Remus found him before he became too inebriated to tell his own story.

Once he’d pried the main details out of him—of the bloke he’d been seeing, one who had fancied him nearly as much as he’d hated him, who had treated him like shit just because he existed—Remus was considerably more fired up. 

“What are you doing letting some wanker beat you up? Drinking yourself half to death? That’s not you. You don’t let people walk over you,” he said furiously. That arsehole wherever he was needed to pay. Remus wanted to make him pay. 

Grant let out a bitter laugh, rubbing at his bruised jaw. “Didn’t exactly plan it, mate. Life just gets complicated, y’know? Some people can’t handle you being you.”

Remus instantly regretted the accusatory nature of his words. He knew exactly what that was like—trying to exist in a world that either wanted to push you into a mould or tear you apart for stepping out of it. He placed a hand on Grant’s arm, nodding at him in understanding.

After a moment, he said, “Come on, we should go. Get you home.”

But Grant shook his head, his grin slipping as he looked down at the chipped table. “I can take care o’ myself, y’know. Don’t need a babysitter.” There was a defiant edge to his voice, but it was tinged with something more vulnerable—an underlying sadness that made Remus’ chest tighten.

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean you should always have to,” Remus replied. “We all need someone to take care of us from time to time.”

Grant scoffed lightly, but there was no real bite in it. Instead, he leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand as his eyes focused on Remus with a slightly glassy intensity. “You’re sweet, Remus. Always were.” He reached out, fingers brushing over the back of Remus’ hand. 

Remus tensed at the touch, but he didn’t pull away. He knew Grant well enough to recognize this as his way of deflecting. “Because you matter to me, Grant. I just want to make sure you’ll be okay.”

“‘Course I will. I always bounce back, don’t I?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Remus responded hesitantly. And then, “I’m not sweet with everyone, you know.”

“Aw, sure you’re not.”

Remus sighed, smiling slightly. “C’mon,” he tried to insist, nodding to the exit. “Let’s go.”

But Grant remained stubborn. “Not yet. Y’know, least you could do is have a drink with me—or a dance, even. Don’t you remember how to ‘ave fun?”

“Grant—”

“Besides, it’s more of an emotional thing than a physical one, right?” Grant’s tone took on a pleading edge. “Just one dance, then we can leave. I don’t want to go out feeling like this, all miserable. Let’s pretend things are good, just for a bit. For old times’ sake?”

Remus sighed heavily, glancing around the room. The pulsing lights cast shadows over Grant’s face, deepening the lines of weariness. Remus knew this wasn’t what Grant needed—what either of them needed—but he also knew his friend wouldn’t budge without getting his way. 

“Fine,” Remus relented, the word barely audible over the thumping music. “A few songs. Then we’re going, no arguments.”

Grant’s grin widened, and he stumbled to his feet, grabbing Remus’s hand and tugging him toward the dance floor. The crowd was thick, bodies pressing in from all sides, but Grant moved with surprising fluidity for someone so intoxicated. Remus followed, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips despite the circumstances. This was familiar, a strange mix of nostalgia and regret washing over him as he tried to keep up with Grant’s swaying steps.

Grant’s hand slid to his waist, his grip loose, and the crowd thick enough that it didn’t matter.  “I always knew you’d be a good dancer,” he said, the words lost to anyone but Remus in the pounding beat of the music.

And then Remus heard a voice that made him freeze. “Moony, what the actual fuck.”

****

Sirius had had a shitty day. It hadn’t started that way. In fact, he’d woken up with butterflies, nervous and excited all at once, but they’d died somewhere between James bursting into his room with the news of Remus’ disappearance and spotting him across the crowded dance floor giving his smile to someone else.

James hadn’t seemed to understand the panic that overtook him as soon as the words ‘Moony’s gone’ registered in his brain. How was he to explain that he knew, without a doubt, that Moony’s leaving was his doing? He’d gotten too close and he’d known it. He had screwed up again, after promising he wouldn’t.

The only thing that prevented Sirius from completely losing his mind was the escape he had immediately found in Padfoot. Padfoot had followed Remus’ scent all the way to London, from the telephone booth in the little country town near their house to the bustling streets of the city, leaving James scrambling after him as he frantically followed the path, nose stuck to the ground, his mind on one thing and one thing alone.

That was until Sirius found himself, watching, stock still, as Remus laughed and danced, enraptured by this stranger that had stolen his Moony away from him.

The club speakers assaulted his ears with their harsh bass, the synth pounding from wall to wall, vibrating his insides. Bodies pushed in, arms sticky with sweat, brushing against him as the stranger’s arm snaked around Moony’s waist, and Sirius experienced what felt like a fist punching him repeatedly in the stomach. The punches kept coming as Moony turned to the other boy, grinning, and leaned in closer, offering his hand, before they were blocked from sight, swallowed by the crowd.

Sirius saw red. Before he knew it, he was diving the last of the way through, ripping couples apart, slamming into people, tripping over feet until he came through alone, James lost to the sea. And then he was shouting at Remus, he didn’t know what, entirely consumed by his rage.

“Sirius, what are you doing here?” Remus asked when he could finally get a word in. 

“No, you don’t get to do that. What the bloody hell are you doing here? You’ve had us worried sick, and for what? So you could get pissed at some mangy club with Godric knows who?” Sirius gave the horribly cheerful boy the dirtiest look he could muster. He wanted to slap the gap-toothed grin right off his face. Who did he think he was putting his hands all over Moony and then having the audacity to smile at Sirius like they were mates?

“The name’s Grant,” the boy said, extending his hand as if Sirius would be as courteous as to take it. “And you must be…” he said, retracting his hand, not deterred in the least by the rejection.

“Sirius,” Sirius said coldly, but this only caused him to grin wider.

“Sirius,” the boy repeated as if it cleared up a great deal. “So this is Sirius. Real charmer, aren’t cha?” 

What the fuck did that mean? So this is Sirius? What had Remus told him? 

“Grant,” Remus said, voice low, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Sirius clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms. He imagined how good it would feel to wind up and let it hit its mark, watch as this Grant so-and-so fell to the ground, nose dripping with blood. Then again, his face was already messed up a decent amount, the purple of his cheek visible any time the flashing of the disco shone down at the right angle. 

Merlin, what was this bloody crush doing to him? He was going mad, ready to fly off the handle at any small provocation. He ought to walk away, leave Moony to his friend. It was coming across pretty well pathetic.

Just let them, he thought bitterly. They could snog their faces off for all he cared.

“Sirius,” Remus said, directing his attention to him finally. “Grant’s a friend from St. Edmunds. He’s been dealing with some things recently so I came to see how it was going.”

“Right,” Sirius said doubtfully. “Because a club is the place to do that.”

Remus rolled his eyes, turning back to Grant, not even bothered to respond.

“Sirius,” said James, from behind him. In his fury, he hadn’t even noticed him arrive.

James pulled him aside as Remus did the same with Grant. It was all Sirius could do but watch as Remus spoke low in his ear, whispering things he wasn’t allowed to hear.

“Sirius,” James said again.

“What?” he spat.

“It’s okay now. Moony’s okay. Try not to be too hard on him.”

“I’m not.”

“Yeah, you are.” He looked like he wanted to say more but it was difficult to say much of anything with the volume of the music cranked up so high. Remus nodded his head at them, indicating to the door and Sirius and James followed him and Grant out, Sirius keenly aware of the hand he kept on the other boy’s shoulders. 

He felt no more relieved when they pushed open the doors of the club and came out into the open night air. It was a typical August evening, not too warm, but not too cool either. The streets were nearly as busy as they had been before they’d entered, with groups of people meandering about, many lighting up cigarettes and shouting across the street at one another, others searching for a way home. 

Remus stepped back from Grant once they’d stopped a little ways off from the club, but Sirius had a feeling it was only for their sakes. “I’m gonna go back with Grant to his place,” he said. “You lot are free to go home. No need to wait around for me.”

“Like hell we are,” Sirius said immediately.

James placed a calming hand on his arm. “What he means to say is, we’d prefer to wait and make sure we all get home safe together. Not– er, not that we don’t think you’re capable. We’d just rather stick together if that’s okay.”

Remus looked like he wanted to protest, but he thought better of it. Or maybe he just didn’t have the energy to argue. “Fine,” he sighed exasperatedly. “Like you would even listen to me if I asked.”

No, we wouldn’t, Sirius thought.

“Some good friends you’ve got there, Remus,” Grant said, flashing Sirius a wink over his shoulder as they continued walking.

“Bloody annoying ones,” Remus muttered, kicking a stone out of his path. 

“Hard to find though,” Sirius heard Grant say.

Remus was quiet after that and Sirius found his anger subsiding just the tiniest bit at his words. Sirius didn’t know where he’d be without his friends, and nor did he want to find out. He wondered what Remus had meant when he’d said Grant was having a tough time, and where he had gotten those bruises.

Still, that didn’t stop him from glowering at the back of Grant’s head as they turned down streets, the atmosphere losing its celebratory feel, the streetlamps reducing in number. 

Finally, they stopped in front of a grimy old three-story. It was tucked between two similarly rundown-looking buildings, and a set of rickety steps led up to the door where one of its windows was taped over, evidence of some sort of scrapple or forced entry.

“Well, this is me,” said Grant. “Home sweet home.” 

Everyone was silent for a moment, staring up at the far from homey building. Remus broke the silence. “Alright. You two, stay here.” It was not a request. “I’m going to see him inside. Be back in a bit.”

Sirius opened his mouth, but received an elbow to the ribs from James before he could say anything. “Yeah, that’s fine, Moony. We’ll be here. Take your time.”

Remus made to head up the steps, but Grant turned to them before following. “Lovely to… make your acquaintance,” he said, giving them a salute. “Stay in school,” he added. 

“Same to you, mate,” James said a bit too enthusiastically. 

Sirius just nodded.

When the door shut behind them James rounded on him again. “You really couldn’t have been any nicer?”

“What?” Sirius protested. “I was perfectly civil.”

James scoffed. “Mate, you could’ve cut the tension with a knife.”

“Ugh, well that’s his fault. He kept giving me this look like he thought he was better than me or something.”

“I think you’re reading too much into things. He was a nice bloke.”

“Nice my arse,” Sirius huffed. “I hate him.”

James blew a breath out, chuckling slightly.

“And just what do you think you’re laughing at?” Sirius questioned.

“Oh, I don’t know,” James said. Sirius could feel his eyes on him, but he kept his own glued to the rusted old door. “Just… don’t you think maybe there’s another reason you dislike this guy so much?”

“Such as…”

“Such as… maybe you’re jealous?”

Sirius’ boiling blood turned cold. “Why would I be jealous?” he asked.

He doesn’t know. He couldn’t possibly–

“Jealous that Moony has other friends besides you?” 

Sirius finally looked at him. “Moony’s allowed to have other friends,” he said sharply.

“I know that,” James said, pushing his glasses up his nose. “But do you?”

“‘Course I do. I’m just angry that Moony told us nothing about him or where he was going.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t thrilled about that either, but Moony’s a private person. We've always known that, and I can imagine he’s feeling pretty uncomfortable right now, so just…try to leave the pestering to a minimum when he comes back.”

“I just…” Sirius sighed. “I thought we were past all that, him and I. I keep thinking we are and then we’re not.”

“Pads, I don’t think he’ll ever be entirely past it,” James said gently. “It’s just a part of who he is.”

“I suppose so,” Sirius responded, feeling dejected. 

Mysterious, maddening Moony. What was he ever to do?

The way they could go one night from–if Sirius dared say it–nearly kissing in the bathroom, to this? To again having such distance between them, to Sirius silently begging for him to open up, to just please, for the love of all things holy, tell him what he was thinking, what he was feeling…”

He considered, as they stood there, whether he should turn back into Padfoot. He felt so blind with the door shut, unable to see or hear anything that was going on inside. 

Just when he thought he couldn’t take any more, Moony stepped out onto the threshold. He looked worn down, defeated. Halfway down the stairs, he glanced back, almost wistfully, at the door. Something twisted in Sirius’ gut and he wondered if Moony would have come back at all if they hadn’t practically been forcing him.

The journey home was a subdued one, each of them lost in their own thoughts. They’d taken the late night train, not in the mood to deal with the Knight Bus’ numerous and random stops across the country. They sat alone in their car, save for a pair of young men who looked to be in their late twenties. They were slumped against each other, both asleep. The shorter one had his head on the other’s shoulder, tucked securely under their arm. The tall one, as if he could sense Sirius watching, opened his eyes, narrowing them as if in challenge.

Feeling somehow nervous, Sirius focused his gaze on the posters hanging on the wall opposite them. A particularly large, brightly coloured poster in the top left corner caught his attention. ‘Killer Karma,’ it read. ‘Come on down for a night of chaos and destruction. Hear new hit single At the Crack of Dawn and many more. Saturday at 2100 hours.’ An address and number to call for more information was posted at the bottom of the page.

Sirius nudged James, who started, half-asleep himself. Once he’d caught on to what Sirius had been referring to, a similarly devilish smirk grew on his face. 

“Oh Mooooony…”

Chapter 25: friends do this

Summary:

friends being friends

Two headlights shine through the sleepless night

And I will get you, and get you alone

Your name has echoed through my mind

And I just think you should, think you should know

That nothing safe is worth the drive 

And I would follow you, follow you home

I'll follow you, follow you home

~Taylor Swift (Treacherous)

 

The vibrant streets of London buzzed with energy, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the throngs of people. Neon signs flickered to life as Sirius, James, and Remus approached the venue, a scruffy-looking building wedged between a fish-and-chip shop and a tattoo parlour.

James was already at the front, exchanging cash for tickets with the kind of grin that promised trouble. He passed two tickets to Sirius, who snatched them eagerly, handing one over to a coolly unimpressed Remus. 

Inside, the air was thick, filled with the sharp tang of beer and cigarette smoke. The crowd was packed tight, a writhing sea of bodies moving in time to the heavy beat that pounded through the speakers. The band was already on stage, their lead singer howling into the mic with a fierce intensity that made the walls vibrate.

“Right,” James said, eyeing the back of the venue where the bar stood calling to them. “First round’s on me.”

They grabbed their drinks before pushing closer to the stage, James leading the way. Sirius raised his glass, and they all clinked together, the alcohol burning warm in his throat.

Remus’ movements were tentative at first and Sirius watched as he gradually eased into the rhythm, his body loosening, the tension in his shoulders softening with every beat. 

“See?” Sirius shouted over the noise, excitement thrumming in his veins. “Not so bad, huh?”

Remus rolled his eyes, but Sirius could tell the band was winning him over. Meanwhile, Sirius… well, Sirius was in love—with the possibility of it all. In love with London and the grimy bar and the fact that no one knew his name. He was quite sure it didn't get any better than this. 

And then there was Remus. Remus, the mind reader. The quiet one. The mysterious boy with the endless stash of secrets hidden up his sleeve. It was almost like he did it on purpose, just to draw people in—to leave everyone wanting more. 

Sirius wanted more. He wanted so much more.

The music–and the alcohol–were doing strange things to him, blurring the lines between want and need. The longer they danced and the more they drank, the stronger his desire to be close to Remus became.

Remus looked unbearably good. It wasn’t funny how good he looked. Sirius couldn’t seem to draw his eyes away from the shift of his shoulders or the twist of his hips as he moved, almost hypnotically, to the beat. Sirius let the crowd push him in, giving an apologetic shrug as he was forced to press up against his friend. James, just ahead, was too absorbed in the band to notice as Sirius leaned back, shoulder brushing against Remus’ chest. He didn’t move away. 

Some time later, James excused himself to the toilet. It was as though the room shifted as he disappeared into the crowd, leaving them alone in the sea of strangers. Sirius’ laughter grew louder, his movements bolder—every ‘accidental’ touch sent shivers down his spine. Remus was pressing up into him now too, breath warm against Sirius’ neck, his hand grazing his side. 

It would’ve been so easy to turn his head and kiss him. He could’ve done it. He wanted to. Oh, he wanted to so badly. 

But that wasn’t what Remus wanted, he told himself. It wasn’t what Sirius should want either. Why, why, why did he want him so much? It wasn’t fair. Why did everyone else get to be normal?

Suddenly the air felt too thick, the music too loud. Every brush of their bodies was no longer pleasurable, but torturous, and Sirius’ chest ached. He shouldn’t have been so close. It was wrong. He needed to get away. 

Sirius turned to Remus, their faces inches apart, needing to say something to explain, to excuse his retreat. Instead, he choked on words that never came. Backing away like the coward he was, Sirius allowed the throng of people to swallow him up, before pushing towards the glow of the exit sign.

****

Remus hesitated only for a second before he followed, making his way through the crowd in a daze. They’d been so close. So close—as if it were nothing. 

He thought back to the Remus of six months ago, barely hanging on to his sanity, already driven half-mad by Sirius. If only he could see himself now. 

Something needed to change. Someone needed to say something, anything, for Christ’s sake. But how could they? How could you bridge such a gap? How did you become more after being friends for so long?

After tripping over a dozen feet, Remus reached the back door, slipping out into the cool night. The alley behind the venue was quiet, the noise of the concert muffled by the walls. Remus spotted Sirius immediately, pacing near the dumpsters. 

He was spiralling; Remus could tell. When upset, Sirius did one of two things: he either went quiet or he lashed out in anger. And when he had no target for that anger, Sirius paced.

Reaching the far side of the dumpster, Sirius turned and kicked a stray can of beer in his path. The sharp clang echoed in the narrow space and he swore. Or at least, that’s what Remus guessed he’d said. He couldn’t actually tell, as Sirius was currently muttering to himself under his breath in rapid French. The string of very probable curses continued as he spun back around and continued walking.

“Putain ! Merde ! Mais ressaisis-toi bon sang ! Il n'est pas... il ne peut PAS être... Vous êtes juste des amis bordel ! C'est pas si difficile !”

Remus watched him quietly for a moment, torn between turning back to give Sirius his privacy and trying to decipher even a scrap of what he was saying. He’d never been any good at the language, but the anguish was clear in every syllable, every frantic tug at his hair. Remus' heart ached at the sight. He wanted to reach out, to steady him, but he hesitated, knowing how Sirius was in these moments. He didn’t like others to see when he was vulnerable, and Remus didn’t want to make it worse by intruding.

But he couldn’t just keep standing there. 

“Sirius?” Remus said, hesitantly. 

Sirius whipped around, nearly jumping out of his skin as his eyes landed on Remus in the distant light of the streetlamp. “Fuck! Godric, warn a bloke next time!” he cried, his whole body radiating a restless energy. 

Well, he’d tried. 

Remus took a step closer, raising his hands in apology. “Sorry,” he said, hoping he sounded calm, though his heart was hammering inside his chest. “Sirius, what’s going on?”

Sirius gave a shaky laugh, dropping his hand from his hair. “Just… needed some air.” 

Remus didn’t say anything, didn’t ask what had triggered the sudden need to escape. It was written all over his face. 

“I—” Sirius started, then faltered. He met Remus’ eyes, the intensity of his gaze almost knocking the breath out of him. “I can’t… I just can’t.”

His words hit Remus like a punch to the gut. “You just can’t what–?” he dared to ask, wishing he didn’t need to know so fucking badly. Was this it? Was Sirius about to end things before they’d even started?

They stood there, staring at each other, the unspoken truth hanging between them like a live wire. Remus’ pulse thrummed in his ears, his mind racing with a thousand things left unsaid—things he wasn’t sure he was brave enough to voice. 

Finally, Sirius sucked in a breath, his shoulders dropping as if he’d made some monumental decision. “It’s just… fuck, Moony. It’s so hard.” His voice cracked on the last word, and Remus' heart nearly broke with it. 

Before he could respond, Sirius moved, closing the distance between them in two quick strides. Remus barely had time to register the motion before Sirius' mouth was on his, hard and desperate. It hit Remus like lightning, his breath catching as he scrambled to keep up with the sudden, dizzying rush of it all. He reached out instinctively, wanting to touch, to feel Sirius everywhere—but too soon, Sirius was pulling away, breaking the connection with a gasp.

No, come back here! 

Sirius' eyes were wide with panic. “Shit, I’m sorry, that was stupid. I don’t know why I—”

“Shut up,” Remus cut him off, his voice surprisingly steady as he grabbed Sirius by the collar, yanking him back in. Their mouths collided, fierce and unyielding, and Sirius responded without hesitation, melting into the kiss. Relief washed over Remus, every doubt and fear evaporating in the heat of Sirius’ touch, replaced by a consuming need.

This kiss was deliberate, urgent—overflowing with every ounce of pent-up longing that had been simmering between them. Remus’ grip on Sirius’ shirt tightened, pulling him impossibly closer, anchoring them together as he traced his tongue over Sirius' lips, wanting more—always wanting more. A low groan escaped Sirius, his mouth parting in a wordless invitation.

It was better than it should have been. It was all he’d ever wanted. If he hadn’t been so wrapped up in it all, Remus might’ve paused to pinch himself. Because this wasn’t real. Surely this wasn’t actually happening. This must’ve been one of those cruel dreams, the ones that he woke up from—aching and alone. 

They were friends. Best friends, even, and yet– And yet Sirius was kissing him. Sirius Black was kissing him. Remus. It was too much. It was too good, and when his hands slid around Remus’ waist and pulled him hard against him, Remus nearly lost his goddamn mind. They stumbled backward, Remus' back hitting the rough brick wall, scraping through his thin shirt. He barely registered the sting; all he knew was Sirius’ mouth on his, Sirius’ fingers digging into his hips, their bodies pressed so close yet somehow never close enough. 

By the time they broke apart they were both panting, breaths mingling in the cool night air. Sirius’ eyes were dark, searching Remus’ with an intensity that made his stomach flip.

“Fuck,” Remus breathed. 

“I know,” Sirius said roughly. He didn’t look away but Remus saw the clockworks turning.

He stopped them before they could spin too far in the wrong direction. “Don’t apologise,” Remus whispered, every word laced with a plea. “Never apologise.” He was tired of pretending, tired of dancing around whatever this was between them.

Sirius nodded, his grip on Remus tightening briefly before he pulled back, his hands lingering as if reluctant to let the moment slip away. They stayed like that for a beat, just holding onto each other, the world outside the alley a distant, unimportant hum. Sirius’ lips were shiny red and Remus already wanted them back, but the reality of the night was creeping in and he knew sooner or later James would find them. 

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Remus smoothed down his shirt, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “We should probably—” he gestured vaguely toward the door, the corner of his mouth twitching in a half-smile.

Sirius huffed a laugh, raking a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Right.”

They headed back inside, slipping into the crowd as if they’d never left, as if Remus’ mind wasn’t still spinning, as if he couldn’t still taste Sirius on his tongue.

“There you are!” James said after he’d spotted them weaving their way through the crowd. “Where’d you guys disappear off to?”

“Fresh air. We were feeling a bit… hot,” Remus said, straight-faced. 

Sirius bit his lip, a chuckle threatening to escape him. It ended up sounding more like a whimper. 

That did it for Remus and he burst out into giddy laughter, Sirius joining him not a second later. 

“What?” James asked, a look of innocent confusion crossing his face, which only made the situation funnier. 

“Nothing, nothing, Prongs. Relaaaaax,” Sirius said, still giggling. 

James' confused expression turned suspicious and he leaned forward to grab both of them by the face and peer into their eyes. “Are you guys high or something?”

“High on life, Prongs. High on life,” said Sirius. 

As James glanced away towards the stage, they exchanged a knowing look, the buzz of the secret humming between them.

They danced as if nothing had happened, but Remus could feel the shift, the way every touch lingered, the way their eyes met and held just a fraction too long. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once, and as the night wore on, Remus couldn’t help but feel they’d crossed a line they could never quite uncross.

But for now, with the music thrumming in his veins and Sirius just a breath away, he didn’t mind at all.

****

Godric, how Sirius wished James would go away. 

It was a rare feeling, one that most of the time he couldn’t fathom wanting. But dammit, when Remus was looking at him like that, dark, soul-piercing eyes and that ungodly smirk, Sirius wanted to do many things, all of which could not be done in the presence of his brother. 

The 12 o’clock train ride home was nothing like the one they’d taken earlier that week. Their car was filled with loud, exuberant chatter, the atmosphere cheerful where it had previously been somber. A few other passengers were scattered about, returning from their own late-night outings, their laughter and animated conversations mingling with the rhythmic clatter of the train. 

All three of them couldn't stop grinning, still alight with the thrill of it all. Sirius didn't think he'd ever come down from the high he was on. Because Remus was there. Remus was there and he wanted Sirius. Remus wanted him.

Possibly. Maybe. Well, he was pretty sure anyway.

Paying great attention to James’ story of an encounter with an American man in the bathroom, Sirius inched closer to Remus on the hard, plastic seat of the train. He nodded along to the story as Remus’ leg brushed his, trying not to squirm as tingles travelled up his body. Remus stared out the window at the obscurity of the night and Sirius laughed, and their pinkies brushed on the seat between them. 

Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t— Remus’ tongue on his lips, hands in his hair, hips against hips… Fuck! That’s enough.

Sirius snatched his hand back into his lap. “Uh huh, great,” he responded when no one spoke, suddenly realising it was his turn. 

“Padfoot,” James cocked his head at him. “I just told you his wife died. Are you even listening?”

Oh. Shit. 

“Fuck, sorry. Yes. Listening. All ears,” Sirius said, straightening in his seat and giving James what he hoped was an appropriately sombre nod.

James shook his head with a bemused smile. “Anyways, so…”

Sirius snuck a peak to his right, and fuck, Remus was looking right back at him, his mouth twisted deliciously into that smirk again. He was leaning back casually, his posture relaxed as though he wasn’t aware of the firestorm he was stirring up inside Sirius. But his eyes—they told a different story. They were dark, intense, full of unspoken promises that made Sirius’ pulse quicken.

Placing a cooling hand on his burning cheeks, Sirius turned back towards James, shifting in his seat.

“You know,” he said, finally joining into the previously one-sided conversation. “I think the chick in front of us was American.”

“Which one?” James asked, frowning as he tried to remember. 

“That one who kept blocking our view.”

“I had no problems with my view,” Remus said, bringing an arm up behind the seat to support himself—which was fine. Sirius was fine.

“Yeah, Pads,” James said, grimacing apologetically. “I think you’re just short.”

“Hey! She was wearing heels!”

”Was she, though? Was she really?”

”Yes, she wa— hey, don’t give me that look. Moony, tell him,” Sirius cried in outrage. 

But Remus shook his head, that same glint in his eyes. “I’m afraid you’re just short.”

“Moony!” Sirius pouted. “I don’t deserve this treatment from you.”

“But you do from James?”

“I— no!” Sirius spluttered. “From neither of you.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind your lack of height,” Remus smirked. 

“Oh good, what a relief!” Sirius said sarcastically, slumping back—then jolting upright again as he felt Remus' arm behind him. 

“You two,” James tutted. “Idiots, the both of you.”

“You’re the idiot,” Sirius shot back, stupidly. All he could really think about was the heat radiating off Moony’s body. If he leaned back they would’ve been touching. 

“Yeah, but you guys have a unique brand of idiotness. It’s very hard to describe.”

“I think you mean idiocy,” Remus corrected.

“No, I mean idiotness,” James insisted, frowning at him. “It’s like this…” He sat up straighter, holding his hands out as if to paint some invisible picture. “You and me, Pads, we are both idiots. And together we make one big super-idiot. You and Moony, though, you only have this idiotness when you’re together. See what I mean?” he asked, proudly. 

“Mm… no, not at all,” Sirius replied. His brain hurt just thinking about it. 

“Moony?” James asked, hopefully. 

“Nope, but I think you just gave me a brain aneurysm,” Remus said, rubbing his head. “Are you sure you’re not high?”

“Well, not totally sure. I did take a puff from that guy in the bathroom. He said it was medicinal, you know. ‘Cause of his wife and all that…” he waved a hand dismissively.

“Christ,” Remus laughed.

“Christ,” Sirius repeated happily.

Remus shot him an exasperated look; Sirius just about melted on the spot. And everything was somehow still the same, yet also completely, irreversibly different. But this time, Sirius thought—or at least he hoped—it was for the better.

Chapter 26: fantasy and f(r)iction

Summary:

sirius throws away his pride

You brush past me in the hallway

And you don't think I, I, I can see ya, do ya?

I’ve been watchin' you for ages

And I spend my time tryin' not to feel it

But what would you do if I went to touch you now?

What would you do if they never found us out?

What would you do if we never made a sound?

~Taylor Swift (I Can See You)

 

“Where the hell—ouch!”

“Sorry, was that your foot?”

“Yes, and I’d like to keep it, thanks.”

“Oh, you’re welcome.”

“Shut it, Prongs.”

“Someone find the bloody light.”

“Hold on. I think I’ve—aha!” 

Sirius blinked against the sudden brightness as the entrance hall was flooded with warm light. 

“Thanks for that too,” Remus muttered, squinting as he kicked off his shoes carelessly. “Now I’m blind.”

“That was the goal, love,” James grinned goofily.

Remus gave him a playful shove, inadvertently sending James crashing into the coat rack. He flailed his arms comically before Remus caught him and righted the rack with the other hand.

“Bloody hell, Moony,” Sirius teased. “Who knew you were so strong.”

Remus grinned slyly. “Oh yeah, it comes in handy sometimes.”

“Mhm,” Sirius said, ‘pretending’ to swoon. “Bet you could throw me over your shoulder if you wanted to.”

“I don’t think it’s a question of if.”

James’ voice cut through the daze, a bit indignant, as he stepped between them. “Uh, hello?! Moony nearly killed me, and you two are pretending to flirt? Not acceptable.”

Remus laughed, a rich, warm sound that made Sirius’ heart race. “Sorry, mate. You’re the one who got yourself crossed.”

“Which is precisely why you should be gentle with me,” James sniffed as he wandered into the kitchen, still nursing his pride.

Remus exchanged a fond smile with Sirius before they followed their sulking friend.

 “I barely touched you,” Remus said, watching as James rummaged through the steel drawer under the oven, his arse in the air. Sirius bit back a grin. 

“That’s what you’d like people to believe.” James retorted. 

“People? As in Sirius?” Remus asked politely, hiding an amused smile behind his hand. 

“Exactly. Always trying to impress someone,” James replied with a click of his tongue. Seeming to have found what he was looking for, he straightened, spinning around and kicking the drawer shut swiftly. Perhaps a little too swiftly, because then his foot caught on the underside of the drawer and he tripped into the nearby counter. “No!” he shrieked as the bag in his hand went flying. “The crisps!”

“Prongs!” Sirius doubled over, barely containing his laughter as James slid across the floor to rescue the bag. “Slow down, mate.”

James paused his valiant efforts to open the bag and looked up at Sirius with a frown. “What?” 

But Sirius just shook his head. “Never mind.” It was a lost cause anyway. 

James shrugged and went back to his snack, plopping himself down on one of the tall chairs at the kitchen counter. 

“What are we going to do with him?” Sirius sighed, turning to Remus, who had been watching the interaction with a fond smile. 

“Nothing really to do,” he responded knowledgeably. “I suppose we let him entertain us, and then we put him to bed.”

“Right,” Sirius replied. That made sense. It was nearly 1:30 after all, and everyone was sure to be exhausted the next morning. They’d get James to bed, and then they would do the same. In separate rooms, of course.

“Mooooony. Padfoooooot,” James moaned from behind them. “I'm lonelyyy. Come sit with me.”

James seemed to settle after devouring half the jumbo-sized bag of crisps, and soon enough, they made their way upstairs. When they reached the dimly lit landing, they came to an unspoken halt. Sirius was unexpectedly flooded with a mix of nerves and, strangely, disappointment. He wasn’t entirely sure why—what was there to be disappointed about? But standing in front of his door, with Moony and James by his side, it felt like they were at an unspoken crossroads. Sirius found himself silently wishing for a way to stretch the night a little longer.

“Sleepover?” James asked hopefully. 

“Nah, mate,” Remus said, fighting back a yawn. “I’m knackered. Don’t think I’m in the mood to have you kicking me all night.”

The knot in Sirius’ stomach tightened. 

James sighed dramatically. “Right, I see how it is.”

“Don’t take it personally, Prongs,” Sirius told him. “Moony couldn’t bear to share his precious bed with anyone. Sleep trumps even the most beautiful of girls. Isn’t that right, Moony?” 

Remus paused, long enough for Sirius to wonder if he’d said the wrong thing. “Oh, definitely,” he finally said, flashing a tired smile. “Night, lads.” He gave a half-hearted wave over his shoulder before disappearing down the hall. 

“Night!” Sirius called out, trying to sound cheerful. He saluted James in farewell, receiving a wink and a kiss blown his way in return, before slipping quietly into his room.

Closing the door softly behind him, Sirius pressed his hands to the oak wood, listening to the faint sounds of the house settling for the night. A dull sense of disappointment gnawed at him as he looked around his room. Everything felt too quiet. The glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling, the intricate carpet James’ parents had gifted him, and even the Bowie poster above his bed seemed indifferent to his restless energy.

Sirius blew out a frustrated breath and let his head fall back against the door with a mute thud. Really, what more had he been expecting? It was just one kiss. Nothing overly significant. It hadn’t meant anything. It had been nothing more than a charged moment of heat between friends, a one-time—or more accurately, two-time—spur-of-the-moment thing. It wasn’t like— not like they’d confessed their undying love for each other or anything absurd like that. 

That’s not true, a small voice in his head said hopefully. It meant something. Surely you can admit that.

Sirius pushed off the door and turned toward the mirror by his bed. His reflection stared back at him, framed by high cheekbones and long, dark hair his mother would have had a fit over. Grey eyes, hopeful and searching.

Okay. Okay, so say it had meant something. What the hell happened now? Was Remus just as confused? Pacing his room, wishing he’d done more?

Sirius allowed himself a moment to imagine it—Moony, frustrated and restless, kicking his bed, then giving in, rushing down the hall to pull Sirius into his arms.

Sirius snorted softly at the imaginative fantasy. Unlikely. Nothing was ever that simple.

If he wanted something to happen, he realised, he’d have to be the one to make a move. 

Heart pounding, he tiptoed down the hallway, wondering if he was incredibly brave or hopelessly desperate. Either way, he was too far gone to care.

He was about to knock when the door swung open, nearly causing him to jump out of his skin.

Remus’ eyes widened in surprise, and Sirius spoke quickly, flustering hot with embarrassment. “Oh, uh—hi, Moony! Didn’t expect to see you! Me? Why, I’m just out for a little, midnight stroll. Nothing too exciting. Taking a trip to the loo, you know how it is. Just—”

“Sirius,” Remus hushed him, leaning against the doorframe, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Quiet down or you’ll wake the whole bloody house.”

“Oh, right,” Sirius whispered, quieter this time. “How impolite of me. Wouldn’t want to disturb anyone’s peaceful, peaceful slumbers. That would not be good, no sir—”

“Sirius,” Remus hissed again, a hint of a smile on his face this time. “Would you like to come in?”

“Oh!” Sirius flushed. “Well, if you’re offering.”

“I am.” 

“Sure, sure. How very kind of you.”

Remus rolled his eyes, long fingers encircling Sirius’ wrist as he pulled him inside. The room was dim, save for the faint light seeping through the window. Sirius exhaled in quiet relief, hoping the darkness would mask the flush only spreading further across his cheeks. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” Remus asked. He was still in his clothes from the concert, apart from his jacket, which had been tossed haphazardly onto the chair in the corner.

Sirius shook his head, suddenly at a loss for words. “You?”

“Nah,” Remus said, stepping closer, his eyes sweeping over Sirius. Sirius had to fight the urge to shiver. “Didn’t even bother trying.”

“Me neither.” Sirius' eyes traced the taut lines of Remus' shoulders, the way the well-worn T-Rex shirt clung to him—honestly, it should’ve been illegal for Moony to wear T-shirts at all. His gaze wandered over the sharp cut of Remus’ jaw, those striking amber eyes shadowed in the half-light, and finally to his lips—so close, so tauntingly perfect. Moony was... so lovely. Sirius wanted to bite him.

The silence stretched on, thick with tension, and Sirius felt as though he might collapse under it. His throat tightened, afraid that if he spoke, everything he’d been holding back would spill out—raw, desperate, and impossible to take back. No one wanted that. Certainly not Remus.

Fucking hell, Moony. Kiss me already, he pleaded silently, the desperation building with each agonizing second that Remus didn’t move. Had he misread it all?

He was certain he hadn’t spoken aloud, but then Remus shifted, and Sirius inhaled sharply in anticipation. That, Remus must have heard, because one moment Sirius was drowning in longing, the distance between them insurmountable. And then—Remus surged forward, Sirius meeting him halfway, both pulled in by the same breathless need. Their lips collided, and finally, finally, finally they were kissing. 

Sirius’ knees almost buckled under the intensity of it all. Remus’ mouth was hot, every fibre in Sirius’ body aching for more, desperate to touch, to feel. His hands didn’t know where to start—they wanted all of him, everywhere, all at once, as vital as the air in his lungs, which he was quickly running out of. 

Dizzy, Sirius pulled back, gasping for breath, but Remus followed, lips trailing down his neck, igniting sparks down his spine as the scratch of stubble tickled his skin. Briefly, Sirius wondered if all of this was some heavenly figment of his imagination. He was assured by the fact that, while incredibly overactive, his brain could’ve never come up with anything that came close to this.  

“This is probably a bad idea,” Sirius breathed, his hands roaming up Remus’ back, over his shoulders, fingers tangling in his hair.

“Probably,” Remus whispered against his skin, but he didn’t stop. Which was good, because Sirius couldn’t possibly have turned back now.

“Moony?” Sirius sighed, voice rough. 

Remus paused, his gaze finding Sirius’, the weight of it nearly unbearable. Sirius took the chance to close the remaining distance between them, pressing closer until Remus’ legs hit the edge of the bed, sending them both tumbling onto the mattress. Somehow, Sirius ended up straddling him, and oh, this was close—this was much closer. Remus’ hands gripped the back of his neck, bringing their mouths back together, and Sirius was on fire, burning from the inside out. He needed more. He wanted everything. 

Toujours purs, Sirius. 

Sirius drew back, suddenly, ice flooding his veins. Guilt warred with desire, his body still thrumming with need. He wanted Moony so badly, but… 

Was this a mistake? Would they regret it and ruin their friendship for good? Would Sirius be able to live with himself if he gave in to his desires?

“Sirius?” Remus’ voice was soft, cautious. His lips were swollen, his breathing as ragged as Sirius’.

“Maybe we shouldn’t—” Sirius faltered.

“Oh.” Remus’ expression was a blend of heat and tenderness. “That’s fine. That’s okay. We don’t have to—”

“That’s not— I just—” Sirius tried, struggling to voice the confusion raging inside him. “I don’t want you to feel…” 

Trapped. 

He didn’t want Remus to feel like he did—trapped in his own skin, praying he would wake up as someone else, wishing his feelings weren’t his own. Sirius couldn’t bear the idea of convincing Remus into something he didn’t truly want, something he could’ve avoided. There was no taking this back. 

“No one would find out,” Remus said, quickly—and maybe he understood, at least in part. “If that’s what you’re worried about. It’s just us. Everyone else is asleep. We don’t have to stop. Unless you want to.”

“I—” Sirius hesitated, the last of his resistance unraveling at Remus’ words. “I didn’t mean that I wanted to stop.”

Remus looked up, their eyes meeting, and Sirius almost forgot how to think.

“I don’t want to stop,” Remus said as if in challenge. “I want you.”

Sirius’ breath hitched, a fresh wave of desire crashing over him, tangled with fierce relief. “I want you too,” he whispered as if the whole world might overhear.

Moony’s gaze softened into something like wonder, and Sirius couldn’t imagine what he had done to deserve it. Remus’ hands slid testingly up his hips, pulling him forward sharply, and Sirius bit his own tongue at the shock of heat that raced through him. Their eyes remained locked, Remus’ pupils blown wide, half-lit by the moon.

“Was I saying something?” Sirius asked, suddenly losing track of everything but the feeling of Remus beneath him.

“Hm, something about wanting me and not knowing why you thought stopping was a good idea,” Remus offered with a smirk, making Sirius blush. He looked absolutely delicious. “But, you know, I’m not too fussed either way,” he added, leaning back on his hands with feigned indifference.

Sirius glared, but he couldn’t muster much bite to it. His eyes wouldn’t follow his direction; they kept flicking to Moony’s infuriatingly distant lips.

“Moonyyy,” he whined, too frustrated to be embarrased at the pitiful tone his voice took on. 

“What?” Remus asked, mock confusion knitting his brows.

“Fucking—” Sirius chased his lips, but Remus ducked, keeping a hand pressed to Sirius’ chest.

“I need you to tell me this is what you want,” he said, smiling up at Sirius like he knew exactly how mad he was driving him. “I’m not trying to coerce you here.”

Sirius groaned dramatically, rolling off him. “Fine! If you’re going to be so difficult—”

But he didn’t get far before Remus grabbed him, pulling him back down. Sirius couldn’t help the smile that crept across his face as they lay there, foreheads pressed together, just breathing. 

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” Remus asked. He reached out, achingly gentle as he brushed a strand of hair out of Sirius’ face. 

“Yes, I want this, you idiot.”

“Oh.” Remus’ grin was wicked as he grabbed a fistful of Sirius' shirt, yanking him into another searing kiss. Lost in sensation, Sirius hooked a leg around his waist, letting Remus press him deeper into the mattress.

****

Remus woke to the soft patter of rain on the window. Disoriented, he blinked his eyes open, stretching until his shoulder gave a soft pop, which he shook off with a groan. The room was bathed in the muted light of a rainy summer day, casting everything in a soft grey haze.

None of that registered though. All Remus could really focus on was the intoxicating scent enveloping him, unmistakably Sirius Black.

Slowly, heart jumping in his chest, Remus turned to face the boy lying next to him. He wasn’t prepared for the sight—or the wave of emotion that hit him. Sirius’ delicate features were peaceful in sleep, framed by a tousled mess of raven-black hair that, somehow, still looked impossibly soft. Remus ran his fingers through a lock of that hair, careful not to wake him, as he stared down at his friend and thought, I’m so utterly in love with you. 

Sirius’ eyelids fluttered, and Remus froze, waiting for him to open his eyes. But Sirius only sighed and buried himself further in the blankets, blissfully unaware of the storm raging inside him. 

Remus wanted to wrap his arms around him—pull him into his chest, stroke his hair, kiss his forehead, his cheeks, his lips—but he didn’t know how much was allowed. The fear of pushing Sirius away kept him frozen in place, even after everything from the night before...

Before he could dwell on it, he heard the soft pad of footsteps approaching the door.

“Sirius,” he hissed.

“Huhhmm?” came the groggy reply from under the blankets. 

Without thinking, Remus yanked the duvet up, pushing Sirius' head further beneath it. “Stay there,” he whispered urgently, heart pounding, as he threw his legs over Sirius’ just as the door creaked open and Euphemia Potter peeked inside.

“Remus, dear, you’re awake,” she said with a kind smile, a laundry basket balanced under one arm. “Did you have fun at the concert? Long night?”

Remus swallowed nervously. “Er—yeah. It was… good. Lots of fun.”

“Glad to hear it.” She set down the basket and, with a flick of her wand, sent the clothes neatly into their respective drawers.

Remus struggled to pretend he didn’t feel like a deer caught in headlights as Effie asked, “You haven’t seen Sirius, have you? He wasn’t in his room when I went to check on him.”

Sirius fidgeted beneath him as Remus, fighting the heat rising to his cheeks, shook his head. “No, haven’t seen him,” he lied, ignoring the familiar sensation of skin against skin and the flood of memories that followed.

“Alright, dear. There are fresh muffins downstairs if you’re hungry.”

Remus’ stomach growled in response. “Thanks, Effie,” he replied with a weak smile.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Remus flung the covers off, relief flooding through him. Sirius remained still, only the mess of his dark hair visible from under the blanket.

“You can come out now,” Remus said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Sirius didn’t move.

“Sirius?”

Suddenly, Sirius sat up, the duvet falling from his shoulders, exposing the pale skin of his back—the lean muscles, though defined, were traced with faint scars. He was trembling, eyes fixed on the door, running anxious fingers through his hair. “I should go,” he muttered, already swinging his legs out from under the blanket and grabbing his jeans from the floor.

Remus reached out instinctively, dread replacing the warmth that had filled his chest only moments before. He searched desperately for something to say but came up empty. Instead, he watched helplessly as Sirius pulled on his jeans, each second amplifying the space growing between them.

Sirius paused, listening at the door. Remus took in the sight of him—the wild mess of dark hair, the bare curve of his shoulders, the way his body stretched with a quiet elegance. For a moment he allowed himself to imagine this was something he was used to, a familiar comfort rather than a fleeting moment quickly slipping between his fingers. But then Sirius fled, closing the door behind him without looking back. It was over.

Remus groaned, collapsing against the pillows. How could he have been so stupid? So careless? He’d been so wrapped up in Sirius and the fragile, perfect bubble they’d created that he’d forgotten about the rest of the world entirely.

Seized by the urge to punch something, he lashed out at the pillow beside him—it did little to quell the ache tightening in his chest. With a heavy sigh, he fell back onto the bed, squeezing his eyes shut and praying he hadn’t just ruined everything.

Chapter 27: to debate love

Summary:

Sirius is not the only one with a flair for the dramatics

I'm not proud, guess I'm just scared of you shooting it down

You can just talk, and I'll stare at your mouth

It could be bad, but I wanna find out

And I wake up, in the middle of the night

With the light on, and I feel like I could die

'Cause you're not here, and it don't feel right

'Cause you're not here

~Gracie Abrams (Risk)

 

Sirius didn’t look at Remus, really look at him, for the better part of a week. 

It wasn’t that he ignored him; he was perfectly civil, perfectly friendly–lovely, in fact–but… that was it. Nothing more and nothing less. They laughed and joked with James and Peter, spent rainy afternoons with the Potters playing chess and board games, and generally enjoyed their final days of summer together. But Sirius didn’t look at him.

Or at least, not when Remus was watching. There were times–many times–when, like a child sneaking a cookie past bedtime, Sirius would steal glances at him, thinking he hadn’t noticed (unfortunately for Sirius, Remus was always paying attention). He would feel Sirius’ gaze lingering, practically burning holes in his skin, and he’d raise an eyebrow in response. Every time, as if on cue, Sirius’s face would flush a brilliant shade of red—the kind of red you only got after spending a month on the equator without sunscreen.

Remus liked catching him, liked the moment when Sirius realized he hadn’t gotten away with it. He liked flustering him—it was so satisfyingly easy—but he was also bloody angry and, frankly, incurably, painfully frustrated, in more ways than one.

It turned out that a night with Sirius hadn’t had the desired effect. It hadn’t quenched the need to touch him, hadn’t quelled the unforgiving want that took hold of Remus whenever Sirius so much as gave him the time of day. A want as inevitable as the tides and a pull as strong as the Moon’s; the night with Sirius had made him insatiable.

Not that Sirius needed to know that. After all, his ego needed taming, not encouragement to skyrocket through the roof again.

So Remus let the week go by without bothering him. He didn’t beg, didn’t try to convince him to come back; he didn’t say much at all, really. If Sirius wanted space, Remus would give him space.

Though there was one time he nearly slipped.

Remus didn’t know how Sirius managed it, but he was never caught alone with him—not even when James simply left the room. Sirius was always jumping up, finding some reason to follow or offering to help Effie at the opportune moment. If it hadn’t been so irritating—not to mention obvious—Remus would have been impressed.

But one evening, just a few days before they’d be off to school, Remus and Sirius were tasked with cleaning up after dinner, thus ending Sirius’s impressive streak of avoidance.

Remus washed, Sirius dried, and Remus made no move to break the deafening silence. Sirius, on the other hand, seemed to be making an effort to be as loud as possible; he slammed cupboards as he put plates away, practically stomped back and forth across the floor. Remus let it be. 

Until Sirius cleared his throat. “Good dinner, wasn’t it? I always love Effie’s paneer. And her rice—don’t know what she does to it, but I die every time.”

Remus snorted gently as he scrubbed a large glass dish, trying to get rid of the persistent orange stain. “I don’t think she does anything special to it.”

“No way. She definitely does. There’s some secret ingredient in there, for sure,” Sirius insisted. Remus could see him nodding vigorously out of the corner of his eye.

“Maybe it’s just that she’s the one who’s preparing it. Ever thought of that?”

“Don’t be silly, Moons. That makes no sense.”

Remus shrugged, but said nothing more. 

Moons. It had been a while since Sirius had called him that. The nickname never failed to make him feel warm and fuzzy inside, especially because only Sirius ever used it.

They fell back into silence—not quite a comfortable one, but not uncomfortable, either. Remus’s hands were beginning to itch from the soapy water, and his sleeves kept slipping down. He huffed in annoyance as he tried to push his sleeve back up with his forearm, to no avail.

“Here,” came Sirius’s voice behind him, and Remus started at the warm pressure of his hand on the back of his arm. “Can I?”

Remus nodded mutely, not trusting himself to speak, as Sirius gently pulled back his sleeve, then moved to the other side and did the same. “Thanks,” he said without turning around.

Sirius cleared his throat again. “Yeah. It’s—yeah.” He shuffled quickly away, holding a single fork in his hand. Once he returned it to its rightful drawer, he glanced around, looking almost unsure of himself.

Remus tried not to smile. Damn Sirius for always making him feel when he didn’t want to.

Hurrying to finish the last few dishes, Remus kept his eyes on the slowly-disappearing bubbles in the sink.

“You can go if you want,” he told Sirius, who was leaning against the counter, tugging the tea towel around his neck impatiently as he waited for the next dish. “I can finish this up.”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind. You’re almost done anyway.”

“Really? ’Cause you look like you’re itching to go find James,” Remus remarked.

“Well, I’m fine,” Sirius said, crossing his arms. “James can wait.”

“Fine.”

The following silence was stifling. Remus rolled his shoulders, trying to ease some of the tension he felt. It didn’t help. 

“What are you thinking about, Moony?”

Remus looked up from the now very orange water and found Sirius watching him, chewing his lip.

“Not much. School, er… textbooks,” he said quickly. Definitely not about lifting Sirius onto the counter and snogging him senseless, that was for sure.

“Boring,” Sirius smirked.

“Well? What are you thinking about, then?”

“Nothing.”

“Right. Sirius Black with nothing on his mind? Don’t think so.”

Sirius simply shrugged.

They’d never be able to communicate, would they?

“All done,” Remus said, rinsing the final dish and turning off the tap. He passed it to Sirius, who dried the mug thoroughly. Opening the cupboard behind him, Sirius frowned, stretching up on his toes, face scrunched up in determination, reaching… and falling back down with a huff.

“Hm,” Sirius grunted, pressing his hand against the counter for momentum, jumping slightly as he tried and failed to reach the last space on the top shelf.

Remus bit back a laugh, watching him struggle for several seconds before taking pity on him.

“Sirius,” he said fondly. “Why don’t you let me help with that?”

“I’ve—got it,” Sirius insisted, leaning up again, his shirt riding up his stomach (Remus didn’t notice, of course). “Just need the right—”

“Sirius,” Remus said again, laughing lightly. Without thinking, he reached out, placing a hand on Sirius’ back.

Sirius jerked backwards, fumbling the mug between his fingers. It hit the ground with a crash. 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you,” Remus said, startled himself.

“It’s fine.”

“That’s the second mug of Effie’s we’ve broken,” Remus said, grasping for something mundane to fill the silence. “In fact,” he examined the ceramic shards, noting the design of tiny blue flowers, “I think that might be the same one I broke.”

Sirius laughed, scratching his neck. “Ah well, she can Repairo it again.”

“Yeah.”

Their gazes met—really met—for the first time since that night, and Remus swore he could see memories flickering in Sirius’s blue-grey eyes.

Do you regret it? he nearly asked.

But he didn’t. He couldn’t bear to hear the answer.

And then Sirius’s eyes flicked down, and Remus didn’t know what to think.

He wasn’t new to confusion—it was practically his permanent state around Sirius—but this was something else entirely. At this point, confusion was so ingrained in him, he embodied it as Sirius stared at him like he was something exquisite, something rare. Like he couldn’t bear to look away.

Remus stared back. What else could he do?

A loud crack sounded from the doorway, and they sprang apart, both clearing their throats and glancing around.

“Master Sirius. Master Remus. May I help you?” Gully asked, approaching silently from the other side of the island.

Neither responded at first; Remus’s mind was blank. Then a sudden burst of energy seemed to hit Sirius, and he sprang into action. “Er—yes! We had a, um, mishap with a mug,” he gestured to the broken pieces.

“Of course.” Gully snapped her fingers, and the mug repaired itself, returning to its shelf.

“Thank you,” Sirius smiled at her. Then, before Remus could blink, he was bounding away. “Right, Moony, let’s go find our dear Jamsie boy. I bet he’s terribly lonely without us,” he called over his shoulder, disappearing down the hall.

Rubbing his neck at the strange sensation of whiplash, Remus followed after him.

****

Sirius was well and truly fucked. 

Every day after the catastrophe—the night of no return—was a battle. A thousand forces tugged at him, each demanding something different, each whispering in his ear. The devils perched on his shoulders multiplied, competing to be stronger, harder, more brutal than the last. There were so many voices now that Sirius couldn’t hear a word.

He wanted Moony. He wanted to run. He wanted to be someone—someone else, someone better—to live among strangers. He hated his mother, but he wanted her love. He wanted love, so much love. He wanted to deserve it, to matter, to laugh, to cry. He was so angry, he was so sad, and he wanted, wanted, wanted...

And yet, from the start to the end of every day, Sirius knew nothing.

It was wrong, all of it, but it felt so right. And how did those two things fit together? How could something so good make you feel sick to your stomach?

How was love a debate? Why did they get a say? Why did they get to decide what it was worth—what he was worth? Who had made these godforsaken decisions? Couldn’t he have this one thing? Couldn’t it just be his?

Sirius wanted it to happen again. Every night he lay awake, fighting with himself, summoning every ounce of willpower to stop himself from getting up and going to Remus like he had that night.

He wasn’t stupid—he knew Remus wouldn’t come to him. It was different for Remus. Perhaps, for him, it had been just a fleeting impulse. Sirius couldn’t fool himself into thinking it was something Remus had waited for, not in the same way Sirius had been waiting.

Surely, he would have seen it if it had been. He knew he could be oblivious, knew he sometimes missed things others saw so clearly, but this he would have noticed. He’d have to have noticed.

Then again, Moony was reserved. Sneaky. Maybe he’d just hidden it well?

Sirius didn’t dare hope.

Remus had told him not to worry, not to apologize, which had eased his mind a little. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that Remus regretted those words—and what came after.

So Sirius did his best to remove every temptation. He didn’t let himself be alone with Remus, not for a second, terrified of what he might say or do if he were. But he couldn’t stop his mind from spinning fantasies—each one wilder than the last. He imagined staying, even as he forced himself to follow James out of the room. He imagined climbing into Remus’ lap, kissing him with everything he had, making Moony’s head spin, before pulling him into the nearest bathroom. They’d have to be quiet—Sirius didn’t think he was very good at that, but anything for Moony, anything to feel the press of their bodies again, to feel the heat of his lips, his hands, his skin… (Goddamn it, control yourself.)

So when they finally were alone, it was almost laughable how quickly he lost his head. Pathetic, really, the way he seized the first opportunity to touch him. Sirius had no control. It was all in Remus’ hands, in his soul-searching amber eyes, in the barely-there glances he threw his way. Remus had him on a fucking leash and didn’t even know it.

Everything was surging to the surface; the bottled-up feelings were on the verge of bursting free, shattering their fragile container. It would be ugly. The glass would scatter everywhere, embedding in his skin, his eyes, his heart. Sharp. Vengeful. He would deserve it.

And it was close now, looming on the horizon. Sirius watched, like a sailor from the deck of his ship, helpless, unable to do anything but marvel at the dark clouds gathering to bring his imminent destruction. The walls would come down, and when they did he would drown.

****

James and Sirius waved cheerfully through the window as the train pulled out of the station, gaining speed and leaving Fleamont, Effie, and the rest of the waving parents shrinking into the distance.

“Well,” James said, flopping down in the window seat with a contented sigh. “Another summer over.”

“And another year of marauding commences,” Sirius said, settling across from Remus and kicking out his feet. “Anyone got any brilliant ideas?”

Remus pulled his legs in and buried his nose in his book, doing his best to ignore the other boy. He’d borrowed a number of novels from the Potters’ not-so-modest library, a room he’d taken far too long to discover. This particular book was turning out to be a bit more romantic than he’d expected, and he tucked himself into the corner of his seat, very aware of his facial expressions as he read about a charming yet arrogant man trying to seduce his English classmate.

“What are you reading there, Moony?”

Remus kept his eyes on the page. “Your eulogy.”

Peter snorted as Sirius gasped in mock outrage, laughing. “Well, I never!” He turned to James. “Prongs, did you hear what Moony just said?”

But the door had opened, and with it, James’ attention was swept away by the fiery locks and blazing green eyes of Lily Evans. Marlene and Mary followed just behind her, crowding the doorway. James cleared his throat. “Hey, um, nice to… see you… guys.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Sirius muttered, shaking his head. “Ladies, would you like to join us?”

“Yes, yes we would,” Marlene replied, giving Lily a playful nudge before slipping in beside Remus with a wink. The others squeezed in as well, Lily ending up between Sirius and James, which didn’t go unnoticed by Remus. He smiled.

“How was your lot’s summer?” Mary asked from beside Peter.

“Great!” James replied, looking thrilled. “You should’ve seen the concert we went to last week. Absolutely cracking, eh lads?” 

Sirius nodded eagerly while Remus mumbled something unintelligible in agreement. “Yeah. Cracking,” Sirius echoed, and Remus couldn’t stop himself from looking over. Their eyes met and held, long enough to send a swarm of butterflies surging through him (although, at this point they were more like venomous bats). Then Sirius turned away, and Remus prayed that the poorly done stitches on his heart would hold.

“Sorry, Pete,” James was saying. “You had fun in America though, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Peter sighed, resting his chin on his hand with a pout. “We didn’t do anything like that, though.”

“What about that circus thing?”

“Cirque du Soleil? Oh yeah, that was cool,” he remembered, brightening.

After catching each other up on the summer’s highlights, they settled in for the long journey. Peter pulled out his travel chess set and roped Mary into a game, while Marlene and Lily each took out something to read— Seeker Weekly and Advanced Potion Making, respectively.

The trolly came around, and James and Sirius loaded up on sweets, enough for everyone to dig in.

Remus was busy searching for any remaining chocolate frogs, which had quickly disappeared among with the others, when Mary began quietly giggling to herself in the corner.

“Alright, who just hit Mary with a Giggling Jinx?” Peter asked, eyeing his opponent warily. 

But Mary waved her hand airily. “It’s not that. I was just thinking about something.”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” Marlene said, closing her magazine with an exasperated sigh. “Someone please ask Mary about her ‘oh-so-handsome Marco’ so we can get this over with, I’m begging you.”

“Who’s Marco?” James supplied helpfully.

Mary clasped her hands together, too excited to notice as Peter swooped in and took her knight with his bishop. “Well, since you asked… I had a little summer fling with a guy from Madrid. We met on the cruise I was telling you about. I know, try not to be too jealous.”

“And his name was Marco, I take it?” Sirius asked cheekily, stretching out even further in his seat. His foot bumped into Remus,’ though he didn’t seem to notice. 

“Yes, with Marco,” Mary replied, crossing her arms with a disapproving frown. “What, are you jealous, then?”

“Your confidence is appalling, Macdonald. Rightly deserved, of course, but appalling all the same. Besides, how do you know I haven’t gotten with someone,” Sirius huffed, crossing his own arms with an exaggerated sniff.

“He didn’t,” James chimed in, looking pleased with himself. 

“Excuse me, but I am offended at your lack of confidence in my marauding skills,” Sirius retorted. “I assure you I could have, and you’d have had no idea even if it was right under your nose.”

Remus may have been trying to ignore him before, but his attention was now fully on Sirius.

Sirius seemed to realize what he’d said because he froze, a half-unwrapped pumpkin pasty hovering in his hand.

“Need I remind you, I too am a Marauder and I would have noticed if you’d snuck a girl into my house,” James said, pointing a warning finger at him.

“Maybe so,” Sirius mumbled, unwrapping his pasty the rest of the way and shoving it in his mouth.

“I see I do not stand corrected,” Mary said with a self-satisfied smirk. 

But Sirius shook his head, stubborn as ever. “What about that chick at the cinema?” he said, looking over at James for support. “She totally wanted a piece of this.”

Almost involuntarily, Remus laughed, unable to help himself. It sounded judgemental even to his own ears. 

“What?” Sirius asked, raising one perfect eyebrow in question. 

“It’s just funny, is all.”

“What is?” 

Remus shrugged noncommittally.

“Mate, you have us on the edge of our seats. Speak your mind,” James urged. 

Remus flipped a page in his book in an attempt to appear unbothered. “Sirius talks a good game, but that’s all it is, isn’t it? I bet he’s actually a shit kisser and just pays everyone to lie so he can save his bad-boy reputation.”

“Oooh, burn,” Marlene laughed, seeming far more invested in this than the Marco story.

“Oh really? Well, I’ll do you one better. I bet Moony has never actually kissed a girl in his life. He just lied because he was embarrassed,” Sirius shot back.

“Never said I had,” Remus mumbled under his breath. Marlene, the only one close enough to catch his words, snorted attractively, and he smirked, pleased his comment had reached its target audience.

“What was that?” Sirius asked, arms crossed again.

“Sirius is so full of himself, I bet when he shags all those supposed girls, he closes his eyes and pictures himself instead.”

Sirius guffawed, features sharpening in anger. “Yeah! Well—Moony’s so desperate to get laid he’d sleep with a troll!”

The next insult came easily, flying from Remus’ mouth without any hesitation. “Still wouldn’t be as bad as sleeping with you.” 

“Double burn!” James exclaimed, hand clapped to his mouth in shock. He was not the only one. 

Remus leaned back, feeling smug. For a moment, Sirius was still, a look of offended horror sweeping across his face before he shoved out of his seat and slammed the compartment door behind him.

Remus couldn’t find it in himself to feel sorry. 

“What was that about?” James asked, his amusement fading to concern.

Remus shrugged. “He’s a moody git, that’s what. I’m going for a smoke.”

He slipped out, ignoring the looks he was receiving, clutching the pack of cigarettes in his pocket. Where the bloody hell did one go to smoke on a train? He wondered angrily as he passed compartment after compartment filled with tiny first and second years; he swore they got smaller every year. 

With nowhere else to go, he eventually settled on escaping to the toilets. As luck would have it, the nearest one was occupied. Frustrated, Remus jiggled the handle until the door swung open.

“What the fuck do you—” Sirius cut himself off as he stepped out of the bathroom and his eyes fell on Remus. “Oh, it’s you,” he snarled. “Figures.”

“Oh, it’s you,” Remus replied, rolling his eyes as far back as they would go. 

Sirius pushed past him, knocking into Remus’ shoulder hard enough to make him stumble. He was angry, rightfully so. Even still, the look in his eyes was unmistakably hurt. 

Remus sighed heavily in resignation. “Sirius?” 

Sirius paused, running a hand through his hair, then turned slowly back around.

“What, Remus? What?”

“Fuck’s sake,” Remus grumbled. He grabbed Sirius by the arm, dragging him back inside the bathroom. Sirius followed, begrudgingly.

“You’re a bastard, Lupin. That’s what you are,” Sirius said as he shut and locked the door. 

Remus had been working up to apologizing, but what came out instead was, “Yeah, well you’re a fucking wanker.”

“You really pulled me in here to bicker more?” Sirius asked, incredulous, worrying at his lip with his teeth—it was drawing Remus in.

He hadn’t really thought this through—hadn’t considered what the small, private space would do to his willpower. The sparkling white walls closed in. The mirror across the room reflected things Remus didn’t want to admit.

“Yeah, maybe I did. You’d do well to be taken down a peg or two.”

Sirius scoffed. He gripped Remus’ shoulders, nails digging into his tunic before pushing him roughly away. “Tosser.”

Remus stumbled backwards into the sink, frustration clawing at its cage like a rabid animal, demanding to be set free. “Shithead.” He shoved him back hard, taking satisfaction in watching him trip over his feet.

“Dick.”

“Arse.”

Sirius kissed him. 

Sirius kissed like it was the air he needed to breathe. Like it was the last thing he’d ever do. Like the sea, unyielding and deep, waves crashing relentlessly against the shore, knocking you off your feet, demanding more, pulling you under. There wasn’t much Remus could do but succumb to it and let the tide take him.

“Fuck you,” he breathed, even as Sirius slid his hands beneath his shirt and he fumbled with belt buckles. Lips and teeth crashed together, and the stars aligned with the moon.

“Fuck you more,” Sirius panted as Remus pinned him against the bathroom wall, watching his face as he unravelled before his eyes—as they unravelled each other. 

****

The silence that followed afterward was loud as Remus buried his face in Sirius’ hair, waiting for him to panic. Once their breathing had returned to normal and Remus’ heart had half recovered, he pulled away. 

The silence stretched on as they tugged on their jeans and collected themselves.

Look at me. Please, look at me , Remus pleaded.

When he finally did, Remus nearly collapsed with relief. “Bad kisser my arse,” Sirius huffed, pulling an involuntary chuckle from his lips.

“Oh yeah? What makes you so sure I was wrong,” Remus teased, clinging to the joke and the return to normalcy.

“Moony. Please. My kissing skills could prevent wars. Hence, this,” he said, gesturing between them.

“Nah, I just took pity on you. Didn’t think your ego could take another rejection.”

“Moony! You wound me. Besides, what does that say about you, hm? Maybe you’re the bad kisser, you’re just blaming me for your problems.”

“I doubt it.”

“But you don’t know, do you. You’ve never snogged yourself. What makes you so sure?”

Remus arched a brow. “Hm, maybe the fact that you just moaned my name. You’re right though; guess I shouldn’t assume.”

Remus took great pleasure in watching the deep flush creep rapidly into his cheeks. “I was begging you to stop,” Sirius assured him.

“Oh, that’s what that was. See, it was a bit hard to—”

Sirius shoved him, but it was playful this time, and soon they were both laughing, Remus still weak with relief. 

When their giggles subsided, they both paused, as if unsure what came next. Remus wondered if Sirius could feel it, the intensity with which he was thinking, I love you I love you I love you.

“Guess we should…” he finally said, when it became too much. 

“Yeah…”

“Don’t—just don’t pretend it didn’t happen, okay?” Remus got out before he lost the nerve, right as Sirius was reaching to unlock the door.

Sirius looked up at him in surprise, smiling slightly, a range of indecipherable emotions flickering across his face. “Okay, Moony.”

“Okay. Good.”

“Good.”

When they stepped back out into the narrow corridor, Sirius grinned at him in that bone-melting way of his, then—all too soon—he was bounding away. “I’m gonna find the trolley again, ‘kay? Meet you back there.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but nodded. And then, because he couldn’t resist: “You’re still a dickhead, Black!” he yelled after him. 

“And you’re still an arsehole!” Sirius shouted, giving him the finger over his shoulder as he walked away. 

Remus huffed, biting back a smile and straightening his shirt as the door to the ladies’ toilet swung open, and out stepped Lily.

Remus suddenly found himself on the receiving end of a look he had grown all too familiar with—one that clearly said, just what do you think you’re doing? It had never scared him quite like it did now. 

“What?” he asked, neutrally.

Lily turned her head in the direction Sirius had just disappeared before considering Remus again, eyebrows still raised, nose scrunched like she’d smelled something particularly foul. “Why do I get the feeling you were just doing something you shouldn’t?”

“‘Cause you’re you? And I’m me?” Remus offered, hopefully. 

“Mm, no, that’s not it. I’d say it’s because you were just sharing the bathroom with Sirius.” 

Remus gulped, wondering if this was how it felt to smuggle illegal substances across the border. 

“Would you like to tell me what you were just doing in there together?”

Thinking faster than he ever had, Remus flipped open his jacket, showing her the pack of cigarettes with a forced smirk. “Making peace.” 

Lily narrowed her eyes, then shook her head, seeming to accept the excuse. “Boys.”

****

Back in the compartment, Remus pulled out his book again, breathing a contented sigh. A heavy weight had lifted from his chest at Sirius’ promise, and his touch had lessened the ache in his heart.

When Sirius finally returned, he slumped down with a sigh of his own. A moment later, he nudged Remus’ foot. Remus was barely given a second to react as Sirius tossed something through the air towards him. When he caught it, he looked down to find a large candy bar in his hand.

Feeling very warm, Remus glanced over; Sirius was pointedly looking elsewhere.

“You insult him, and you get chocolate,” James said, looking thoroughly impressed. “Damn, Moony, teach me your tricks.”

“Sorry, Prongs. ‘Fraid this level of persuasion can’t be taught,” Remus told him. 

Sirius pressed his lips together, adamantly regarding the ceiling as he tried not to laugh.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” James asked.

“It means… I have better charm than you.”

“I object! That is incredibly disrespectful, Moony.”

“Don’t you know, I’m the Casanova of Gryffindor Tower,” Remus reminded him, echoing a joke he’d heard many times before. 

“Ah,” James knocked himself on the side of the head. “How could I forget?” And then, “So, I assume you guys, you know…” He waved a hand between them meaningfully. 

Sirius froze. Remus, having just taken a large bite of chocolate, began aggressively choking. 

“Did we what?” he asked, spluttering crumbs everywhere. 

“You know! Make up,” James said, like it was obvious. Perhaps it had been—just not to them. 

They shared a glance; Sirius bit his lip, eyes soft, eyebrow raised in question, and Remus was seriously concerned with how much he’d let this boy get away with. 

“Yeah… yeah I suppose we did.”

Chapter 28: almost

Summary:

in which they almost had everything

But I'm in so deep

You know I'm such a fool for you

You got me wrapped around your finger

Do you have to let it linger?

Do you have to, do you have to, do you have to let it linger?

~The Cranberries (Linger)

 

The carriages were more cramped than usual this year, the air more stuffy. At least, it felt that way to Sirius, squished between Peter and Remus as they bumped along the road up to the school. There was little he could do to prevent his legs from touching Moony’s on the seat, and even less to change the dangerous direction his thoughts wanted to venture. 

Moony, for his part, seemed perfectly normal, completely unaffected. He regarded the nearing castle with a quiet ease, chiming into the conversation now and then with an astute comment or witty remark. Sirius tried not to dwell too long on what it all meant—that Moony’s relaxed demeanour was probably a clear sign it didn’t mean much of anything.

Instead, Sirius focused on copying Moony’s casual nonchalance. He leaned back in the seat, taking up his space, owning it as if he didn’t know he had to share—as if the way their arms brushed didn’t burn him through fabric and bone. While he did so, he kept up a constant stream of encouraging chants in hopes his brain would get the message.

This isn’t forever, he told himself firmly, urging his heart to believe him. This isn’t what it feels like. It’ll pass, it’ll pass, it’ll pass. The giddiness he felt would pass. The excitement. Even the guilt and the shame. All these raw, intense, all-consuming feelings would eventually fade, leaving him with an easy, brotherly love for his friend. A love like the one he had for James. Like a warm embrace or a comforting smile. Nothing like this burning, forest-fire, tear-the-world-down kind of—thing he currently felt. It would be gone before he knew it, and Sirius wouldn’t even be able to recall the memories if he wanted to.

Everything passed eventually, right? The only constant was change, that’s what everyone said.

They must’ve been right, Sirius assured himself as they climbed out of the carriages, filing through the great double doors of the castle and into the Great Hall. By the time they sat down at the Gryffindor table, Sirius was feeling considerably better, entirely convinced by his logical rationale. He didn’t even struggle to meet Remus’ eyes as they all tucked into the back-to-school feast.

But Sirius found himself searching for something else as they ate. Or more accurately, someone else. The Slytherin table seemed as gloomy and uninviting as always. There was Snape, greasy hair almost reflective under the candlelight as he spoke to a disinterested Crouch, off-putting as ever as he picked at his food with a frown. Further down was Dorcas Meadows, who was chewing on her nail and glancing around the hall with lazy disinterest, ignoring the spread of food in front of her. There was no Regulus. 

Sirius ran his eyes over the table several more times to make sure he hadn’t missed him. He came up empty. Stomach twisting, Sirius forced down the last of his meal without glancing back.

Later, they clambered up the stairs to their dorm, tired from the day of travel and sleepier still after filling their stomachs with good food and drink. Determined for this year to start off right, Sirius refused to consider the millions of questions that threatened to pelt him over his brother’s whereabouts. Regulus had chosen long ago where his loyalties lay. It wasn’t Sirius’ problem.

James whooped as he came through the door after Sirius, striding to his side of the room and falling onto his bed with a contented sigh. “Oh, how I’ve missed you,” he said, caressing the wooden bedpost at his head.

“Prongs, you dramatic sob,” Sirius said, collapsing against the covers of his own bed. 

“Who’s calling who dramatic,” James accused, tossing a pillow at Sirius. Sirius caught it and pulled it into his chest, allowing himself to get cosy. “Thanks for the pillow, mate.”

“Bitch.”

Sirius just smiled sweetly at him. 

“Idiots, the both of you,” said Remus, watching the interaction with his arms crossed as he leaned against his bedpost, looking for all the world like a disapproving mother. He’d tossed his robes onto his trunk, leaving him in a plain tunic, the muscles in his arms standing out against the tight material.

“You love us, really,” Sirius smirked, chest fluttering even as Moony looked away to watch fondly as Peter dug through his trunk, the contents quickly spilling onto the floor at his feet.

“That’s… debatable,” Remus said. “I tolerate you at best.” He sank onto his mattress, tugging on his tie as he did so. Sirius froze, throat going dry as Moony’s long fingers worked nimbly on the buttons of his shirt. A sliver of pale skin peeked out, and he could just make out the long scar that ran down his chest, more and more being revealed by the second. Sirius had kissed that collarbone, his brain decided to remind him. He’d run his hands along the planes of that stomach mere hours ago.

Sirius sat up swiftly, clearing his throat. Remus cocked his head at him, the flick of his eyebrow playful as if he could read every dirty thought crossing Sirius’ mind. Sirius ignored him, neck prickling with embarrassment as he rushed to the bathroom without any of his toiletries.

After hiding out in the bathroom for far too long—alternating between shaking his head at himself in the mirror and pacing back and forth (or as much as he could pace with only a few steps of space)—Sirius emerged to face his fears like a Gryffindor.

Although, he hadn’t been expecting to be faced with them so head-on quite so soon.

“Oh,” Sirius said, pausing at the door. Then, realizing how awkward he must have looked, he asked, “Where’d the others go?”

Remus had been rearranging the books on his shelf—a task Sirius was sure was his highlight of every new school year—but stood up as Sirius approached, turning to face him and shoving his hands in his pockets. He was wearing his favourite jumper, its worn, patterned sleeves long enough to cover his fingers, and his hair was sticking up slightly from when he’d pulled it on. He looked absolutely adorable; all Sirius wanted to do was pull him into his bed and keep him forever.

“Prefect meeting and girlfriend. You can guess who has what,” Remus responded with a crooked smile.

“Ah. Of course.”

Remus nodded. “Although Prongs seemed more excited than Wormy did, funnily enough.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Sirius smiled back, knowing full well it had little to do with the meeting and everything to do with a certain redhead.

He stopped by the foot of Remus’ bed, unsure what he was supposed to do now. Moony was looking at him like he was a puzzle he hadn’t quite solved. Sirius almost wanted to let him.

“Glad to be back?” Remus asked. He sat slowly back down, pulling his legs up onto the mattress.

“Yeah,” Sirius answered, fighting the urge to give in and crawl up the bed toward him. “You?”

“Yeah.”

Sirius laughed nervously, mind strangely blank. Remus was blinking up at him, brown eyes soft, shadowed by the warmth of the lamp behind him.

“What are you doing all the way over there?”

Sirius’ eyes widened, his pulse quickening almost instantaneously. “I… don’t know.”

Remus jerked his head. “Well then, come here,” he smirked, smoothing his hand over the space next to him.

Sirius swallowed, but he obliged, sinking onto the end of the bed and inching forward until their knees touched.

“Hi,” Remus said softly.

“Hi,” Sirius breathed, licking his lips.

Merlin, he thought as Remus’ eyes flicked down and back up, his chest tightening like it might collapse in on itself. If this feels like it does now, how the fuck do people stand to be in love? He couldn’t imagine feeling any bigger.

Remus’ hand twitched beside him, drawing Sirius’ gaze. Holding his breath, he brushed his thumb across the backs of Remus’ knuckles, tracing a thin, white scar that stretched toward his arm.

Remus exhaled softly. Sirius looked back up and met his eyes again. His lips parted, and Sirius tracked the movement, his heart hammering as Remus’ other hand came up to cup his jaw, fingers curling gently around to the back of his neck. Sirius let out a shaky breath of his own, his chest alight with anticipation as they both leaned in…

The door swung open and they sprang apart.

Sirius whipped his head around, his heart in his throat. Peter trudged slowly into the room, head down, thankfully oblivious to what he’d interrupted. The door fell shut quietly as Peter slumped onto his bed, staring strangely at his hands.

Remus cleared his throat, pushing off the bed and away from Sirius.

“Pete? Er, you okay there?”

Peter looked up, small and forlorn, his eyes slightly watery. “She broke up with me,” he said in disbelief. “Dessy broke up with me.”

****

They never did get to finish that kiss.

Instead, they’d spent the rest of the evening comforting Peter, talking him through the breakup—which, to Peter at least, had come completely out of the blue. Desdemona had told him she felt he didn’t take her feelings into account as much as he should and had, quote, ‘decided she needed the support of a man, not a boy,’ whatever that was supposed to mean. Sirius didn’t particularly care for the details, but at a pointed look from Remus, he had reluctantly settled down on the floor and listened.

Sirius had indulged in the silly fantasy that Moony might come to his bed once the room had finally gone quiet for the night. For a moment, he’d almost believed it, as the bathroom door creaked open and footsteps softly approached. But these steps were heavier than usual—nothing like Moony’s cautious, light-footed tread.

Sirius sighed as James’ face appeared in the gap between his bed curtains.

“Hey, mate, care for a chat?” James grinned, his glasses crooked and black hair an absolute atrocity, sticking up every which way.

“You’re alright,” Sirius relented, gesturing for him to sit.

James flopped onto his stomach, flicking the curtains shut behind him and muttering a quick silencing spell. Propping his chin in his hands, he gave Sirius a look that screamed lengthy storytelling ahead.

“So. Evans. I think this is it,” he gushed. “This is the year.”

Sirius shook his head but indulged his best friend like he always would.

****

The next day, they roused themselves at ungodly hours of the morning (“7 am is perfectly acceptable, Padfoot. Goodness.”) and headed down to the Great Hall to receive their timetables.

Remus had caught his eye at one point, gaze flicking over him with a smile that almost seemed shy as they were both pulling on their trainers, and Sirius had nearly toppled over in the process. After failing to tie the bow on his left shoe three times, James came to his rescue—no doubt more out of impatience than any real sympathy for Sirius’ struggles. Peter had just laughed from the doorway and asked if he’d been hit with a Confundus Charm.

Minnie was making her way to their end of the table when Sirius caught a familiar flash of black and green at the edge of his vision. Heart skipping, he turned his head just in time to catch sight of his brother’s thin frame—same dark hair, same rigid posture—before the boy was through the door and out of sight. 

Sirius didn’t think, just jumped up, forgetting entirely about his quiet promise to himself not to bother with Regulus this year. He followed after him in a rush, no plan, no idea what he would say, only the gnawing compulsion to do something. He barely registered the confused voices of his friends calling after him or Minnie’s stern request to wait.

He caught up to him at the top of the steps leading to the dungeons.

“Regulus,” Sirius called, wincing at the raw emotion that immediately cracked through his voice. 

Regulus had taken a few steps into the descent but froze when Sirius spoke. He didn’t turn, didn’t move at all. Sirius said his name again, softer this time—almost pleading.

Finally, Regulus turned, his movement stiff, like it cost him a great deal to do so. Sirius nearly recoiled when he saw his face. He was thin—too thin. The hollows under his eyes had deepened into shadows, his sallow skin pulled tight and pale. Any spark of light behind his eyes wasn’t just dimmed—it was completely gone. He was a ghost, a shell of the boy Sirius had grown up with.

“Can I help you?” Regulus asked, voice flat, eyes barely flickering with recognition. 

“Where were you?” Sirius demanded, fighting the wave of nausea rising in his throat.

Regulus laughed—sharp and humourless, the sound scraping against Sirius’ ears like glass. “ Where was I? I don’t see how that’s any of your concern, dear brother,” he spat the last word like it burned him.

“You have always been my concern,” Sirius shot back, the words hitting the air with the weight of both promise and blame.

Regulus’ expression didn’t soften. If anything, it turned colder. “Well, that has always been perfectly clear.”

Sirius faltered. He didn’t know what to do. Regulus had made his choice—it was too late, it was over. And yet, he couldn’t help the way he clung to the possibility of something else, some small part of his brother still crying out for him. Sirius swore he could see it now—in the way Regulus looked at him, the pain thinly veiled behind the cold mask, the hurt buried just deep enough that no one else might notice.

Suddenly, words Regulus had spoken to him months ago hit Sirius like a ton of bricks, words that had slipped away in the fog of panic as he stared at the permanent mark on his brother’s arm. ‘I understand. I’m not as perfect as you think I am.’

Sirius gaped at Regulus, suddenly feeling as though he’d been walking through a different world for months—without even realizing it.

But before Sirius could find the words—the right ones, the ones that might make him stay—another voice broke the moment.

“Look who it is. Mrs. Potter making his appearance.”

Sirius tensed but did his best to ignore the bait, keeping his eyes on Regulus as Snape and Crouch approached. “I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again, Reg,” he all but whispered. “If you want out, I’m there.”

Regulus’ gaze hardened, features remaining just as cold, just as unwelcoming as Snape and Crouch drew nearer, one on either side of Sirius like predators closing in. Sirius stood tall, willing himself not to show weakness; he was the lion, they were merely flies on his shoes. 

“Alright, Snivelly?” he sneered, rounding on Snape without hesitation. “See you still haven’t learned about the wonders of shampoo.”

“See you still haven’t learned how to make Mummy proud,” Crouch drawled, his smile smug, like he knew exactly where to dig the knife in. Snape seethed silently beside him, lacking any creative retort.

Sirius felt his blood boil, but he forced himself to smile as if it were all some entertaining game. “Pity, isn’t it? Guess I just couldn’t get past the whole incest thing, but hey—if that floats your boat, by all means.”

Regulus scoffed. Crouch just laughed, twirling his wand menacingly around his fingers. “Fuck off to your boyfriend, why don’t you.”

Sirius froze, blood running cold. His eyes darted to Regulus, searching for any sign—had he said something? Could they just smell it on him, like—

But Regulus was inspecting his nails with casual indifference—like he was bored by the whole encounter.

“Mr. Black,” Minnie’s voice interrupted sharply, cutting through the tension like a blade. Sirius hadn’t even noticed her approach. “Come with me, please.”

“Hear that, Black? Maybe you’re finally getting expelled,” Snape hissed gleefully. “Wouldn’t be surprised. They tolerate mudbloods, but I doubt that oversight extends to queers too.”

Anger, horror, and shame crashed together, forming a tight fist in Sirius’ chest, and for a moment, he couldn’t speak.

But he didn’t have to: “Detention, Snape!” Minnie snapped, pulling herself up to her full height and frowning down at him. “And twenty points from Slytherin. I’d suggest you sharpen your wit. Those are insults of a child.” She turned, gesturing for Sirius to follow. “This way, Mr. Black.”

Sirius followed her in silence, head down, his heart thundering in his ears.

When they reached her office, Minnie pulled the door open and stepped aside, letting him enter first. He took his usual seat opposite her desk, hands clenched in his lap as he stared out the window. The winds were howling outside, bending the trees in the distance back and forth in a frenzy. It felt appropriate.

“Have a biscuit, Black,” Minnie said suddenly, pushing a jar toward him.

Sirius blinked at her, eyeing the container. Ginger snap or chocolate chip today, it seemed. He shook his head. “No, thank you.”

“Have a biscuit, Black,” she repeated firmly, rattling the jar. 

Startled by the sharp edge to her tone, Sirius finally looked up. Her lips were pressed into their usual thin line, but something about her expression was sharper; her eyebrows were turned down into a frown, nostrils flared slightly as she stared at him from across the desk. Sirius was startled to realise that Minnie was angry. Furious even. 

He took a biscuit.

“Am I in trouble?” Sirius asked, biting into the ginger snap with forced nonchalance.

Minnie sighed, the anger in her gaze softening into a small, sad smile. “No. You’re not in trouble. I simply wished to prevent what I just witnessed from escalating any further. In any case, we have your schedule to attend to.”

“Right,” Sirius responded. He continued to nibble carefully at the biscuit as she reached inside her desk for a blank sheet of parchment. 

They sorted through his timetable quickly enough—fitting in all the requirements alongside his electives: Ancient Runes, Divination, and Muggle Studies. As soon as they finished, Sirius stood, eager to escape.

Minnie stopped him just as his hand touched the doorknob. “Oh, and Black—don’t take what those boys say to heart. We both know they don’t have the best track record when it comes to… tolerance.”

Sirius hesitated, glancing back at her. “I won’t,” he said, his voice thin. “It’s not like they… have any truth to them.” It’s not like I haven’t heard those things before.

Minnie's lips twitched, but she said nothing more. “Please don’t hesitate to find me if you ever need someone to talk to.”

“Thanks, Minnie.”

Sirius left her office with his new schedule clutched in hand, chest aching and hollow.

****

Remus was convinced his professors were trying to kill him. Four classes in, they’d already been assigned five chapters of reading, two essays, and a star chart. Not to mention, each professor had droned on about the monumental importance of NEWTs—still a year away—as though their lives depended on it. And, well… Remus supposed it was true—his certainly did, anyway.

“What is the bloody point of any of it?” Sirius complained as he threw his rucksack down onto his bed ungracefully. The unevenly balanced books spilled out as the bag toppled to the floor with a loud thud. Sirius threw his hand into the air with an enraged scoff, leaving the mess where it had landed. “I mean,” he continued. “They might as well just tell us every year is important and leave it at that. They lecture us about it every year anyway.”

“Well…” Remus began, kicking off his shoes and heading for his dresser to pull out a clean jumper. “Maybe some people need yearly reminders.” He cast Sirius a pointed smile over his shoulder.

“Hey! I hope you’re not talking about me,” Sirius shot back, tugging at his tie.

Remus turned away quickly, busying himself with pulling off his tunic, before grabbing his jumper. It was a bit snug, but he couldn’t bring himself to part with it (he’d worn it the night of his last birthday, but no one needed to know the significance behind that).

“I most certainly am talking about you,” Remus replied.

“Excuse me! I recall that I still beat you in Transfiguration and Defence.”

Remus, half-lost in the jumper, spun around blindly at that. “You did not beat me in Defence!”

Sirius barked a laugh. “Don’t work yourself up, Moony. It’s okay to admit I’m smarter than you. No one faults you for it.”

Remus spluttered through his jumper, arm tangled somewhere it shouldn’t have been, his vision a faint yellow glow through blue stitches. “I promise you—I would remember if you’d beaten me.”

Sirius was still laughing, clearly enjoying himself. “Need help there, Moons?”

“No, I’m fine!” Remus huffed, twisting his arm inside the jumper.

Suddenly, he felt hands tugging at the hem. Goosebumps erupted as soft fingers brushed his stomach, and at last, his head broke free.

He blinked at Sirius, who was so close and so unbelievably beautiful it took his breath away. He patted down his hair, praying Sirius couldn’t see the sheer want that had gripped him full-force at the barely there contact. He needed a rulebook to decipher all the signs and non-signs, and what the bloody fuck any of it meant. 

“You didn’t. Beat me,” Remus told him.

Sirius shook his head, grey-blue eyes soft, but the glint behind them gave him away—something unreadable, dangerous, and entirely Sirius. “No, I didn’t.”

“You’re messing with me,” Remus realised. 

“I’m messing with you,” Sirius confirmed, grinning. 

“Fuck you. You really are a bitch.” He flicked him on the shoulder.

“C’mon, you love it,” Sirius said, flicking him lightly in return. “What would become of your life if I wasn’t here to torment you now and then?”

“Merlin knows I’d be more level-headed,” Remus sighed.

Sirius raised his eyebrows, lips pouting into a soft “oh”.

Shit. Had that been a giveaway?

“What?” Remus asked, trying to sound casual but utterly failing.

“Nothing, nothing. It’s just…” Sirius shook his head, making a small sound of frustration in the back of his throat.

“Just what?” Remus practically begged, torn in two by the maddening urge to grab Sirius by the shirt and kiss him senseless.

Sirius didn’t say anything for a moment, just stood there chewing his lip. “We’re friends, right, Moony?” he asked finally.

Remus’ heart did a wild sort of thump in his chest, unsure where this was going. “Yeah, of course.”

“Okay. Good. Friends,” Sirius said, nodding vigorously now. 

“Friends,” Remus echoed, hating how hollow it sounded.

“I… think it should stay that way.”

Ah, there it is. 

“Right… Okay, me too,” he forced out, even as it felt like he’d handed his heart away on a silver platter, only for Sirius to return it brutally chopped up and unwanted.

“Okay. Right. Good. Glad we… agree.”

“Mhm,” Remus mumbled, wishing Sirius would stop humming and hawing and just leave so he could go sulk alone.

Sirius reached out, patting Remus’ arm in a friendly gesture that somehow only made it worse. “Wouldn’t want to fuck up our friendship either, now would we?”

“Of course not, Pads… Er, now if you don’t mind, I think I might go to the library. Get a head start on everything. Or try not to fall behind, more like.”

“Okay. Though… if it helps, I don’t think you could fall behind if you tried. Smart Moons.” He gave Remus’ arm a light punch of encouragement, which only seemed to thicken the tension between them.

“Hah, I’m not you, Sirius,” Remus said, returning the punch in kind as he moved to pass him, hoping it stung—if only just a little. 

He didn’t make it two paces before a sharp tug on his wrist spun him back around.

The burning disappointment evaporated like smoke, curling into nothing. In its place came something much better—something sharp and heavy that made Sirius’ eyes darken and heat pool low in his stomach. Then Sirius’ mouth came down on his, and Remus’ senses exploded into a blur of colour.

Fireworks. It was like goddamn fireworks when their lips brushed—soft at first, then urgent and desperate, pulling him closer, biting, needing like they’d never get enough. Sirius made a high-pitched sound into his mouth, and Remus swallowed it eagerly. His hands were everywhere: in Sirius’ hair, sliding down his back, clutching his waist as if to anchor himself and never let go.

All bets were off. Remus didn’t care about anything but the feel of Sirius’ tongue on the roof of his mouth, or his grip—fingers curled tight in his collar, holding him steady. He didn’t give one singular fuck about friendship or consequences or how unbelievably angry he still was.

Not when every kiss felt like both their first and their last. Not when Sirius was Sirius. Not when he made Remus feel.

The slam of a door down the staircase below broke the spell, and Remus hurriedly shoved Sirius back as footsteps approached—then thankfully faded down the corridor.

Sirius swayed forward, eyelashes fluttering like he’d been woken from a dream he so desperately wanted back. 

“And then you go and do that,” Remus rasped, knees weak, lungs straining for air. “How is that fair, Sirius? Are you trying to confuse me?”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius breathed shakily, and he really did look sorry. “I’m sorry, I just— You’re just so…” He gestured helplessly. “And I’m— I’m just as confused as you are.”

“Clearly,” Remus sighed, clasping his hands together to stop himself from reaching for him again.

“Well, we were sort of robbed of it last time, weren’t we? When Peter…”

Remus nodded, refusing to speak. He would not beg, he told himself firmly. He would do a lot of things for Sirius, but that was not one of them.

“Remus, I—like girls. You know that, don’t you? I’m not like that.”

Oh, Jesus. 

“Oh. Yeah, ‘course.” The words left him on autopilot because Sirius’ eyes were on him, willing him to believe, to not let it mean something. “Same. Don’t worry, Sirius,” Remus lied, because ‘werewolf’ was enough. He couldn’t bear to be othered a second time.

Sirius blew out a breath, some of the tension easing from his shoulders.

That was when the door really did open. “Padfoot! Moony!” James cried, springing towards them with Peter in tow. “We did it—we survived our first day of sixth year!”

“And we will forever be the wiser,” Sirius quipped with an eye-roll, not missing a beat. 

Unworried laughter replaced the yearning beat of Remus’ heart, sweeping away the nothing kisses and almost-somethings that never quite would be more. 

He watched them go.

Notes:

more updates likely to come sooner this month as I have lots of ideas and also lots of time

Chapter 29: commence the operation!

Summary:

back to school party + marlene does some meddling

Got lovestruck, went straight to my head

Got lovesick, all over my bed

Love to think you'll never forget

Handprints in wet cement

Adorned with smoke on my clothes

Lovelorn and nobody knows

Love thorns all over this rose

I'll pay the price, you won't

~Taylor Swift (Slut)

 

The next day was Friday, and Remus had never been more grateful for a two-day school week. Nor had he looked forward to their beginning-of-term party more than this year. Remus desperately needed an escape and the only one he could envision lay at the bottom of a bottle—in other words, in the blissful safety of drowning himself in alcohol until he couldn’t form a single thought.

He knew drugs and alcohol weren’t particularly healthy vices to fall back on, but after the conversation that he and Sirius had shared the night before, Remus felt he’d earned a pass. Add to that the looming full moon, only days away, and his nerves felt like a too-tight thread ready to snap. Honestly? With the whirlwind of emotions he’d been forced to weather lately, it wasn’t hard to see how people became alcoholics.

“I hope you’re prepared for the outrageous number of shots I’m forcing you to do with me tonight.”

Remus smirked at Marlene from his spot on the maroon couch they were sharing in the common room. As usual, she seemed to be on exactly the same wavelength he was. “Oh, don’t worry about me, McKinnon. I just hope you can keep up with my incredible metabolism. Alcohol is terribly bad for the liver, you know.”

“But what’s life without a little risk, eh?” Marlene mumbled around the bobby pin between her teeth as she smoothed down flyaway hairs and pinned them back with precision, cursing as she wrestled her shoulder-length hair into submission. It was at that awkward, in-between length that wasn’t really practical for anything—or so she’d lamented about all week. Watching her struggle, Remus silently thanked the universe that he didn’t have to deal with all that. 

“Speaking of risks,” she said, raising an eyebrow at him. “Taken any of those with a certain dark-haired someone recently?”

“No,” Remus said quickly—too quickly. He darted a glance over the back of the couch, scanning for any eavesdroppers. The room hummed with laughter and excited chatter, other Gryffindors reuniting after long summers apart. Their corner, at least, remained undisturbed.

“No?” Marlene repeated, her scepticism unwaveringly evident in the look she shot him.

“No.” He gave a regretful shrug.

“Is that so?” She leaned forward, resting an elbow on her knee and studying him like a particularly intriguing puzzle.

“It is what it is,” he mumbled as he avoided her gaze, sorely regretting the day he’d become friends with her in the first place. He needed less intuitive friends.

But Marlene tapped her lips thoughtfully with a cherry-coloured fingernail. “Let me try this again: Remus, did something happen between you and Black over the summer?”

Bugger. “No, why would you think that?”

“Well, I don’t know what that little display on the train was about, but I could wager a guess.”

“It wasn’t anything,” he said firmly. “We were just being pricks.”

“Mhm.” Marlene crossed her arms, watching him with maddening patience.

“And even if it were, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Okay.”

“I’m not going to make up some story out of nothing just to please you, no matter how much you try to intimidate me.”

Marlene tsked, looking to the ceiling and shaking her head in feigned disappointment. “Damn. Well, I guess I’m just going to have to assume you guys shagged then.”

Remus froze, cursing himself. He’d been stupid. He had been so obvious.

“Merlin’s saggy balls, I’m right, aren’t I?” she crowed, face splitting into a shit-eating grin.

“I didn’t say anything,” Remus protested weakly, searching for a book—anything—to bury his face in and never resurface.

“You didn’t have to.” Marlene leaned over and pinched his flaming cheeks. “It’s written all over your beautiful face.” She gave him one last teasing pat before retreating, still grinning like Christmas had come early. “So, Sirius Black. Not so perfect after all, is he?”

Remus shot her the dirtiest look he could muster, but it only caused her to laugh harder.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“God! No!” Remus cringed away, face heating up in embarrassment. He definitely did not want to do that.

“Not the details! Ugh, I don’t want to hear about that!” She made a dramatic gagging sound.

“Thanks very much,” Remus said dryly. 

“You’re the one who didn’t want to tell me about it.”

“Still don’t.”

“Whatever.” She waved him off. “But no, I meant, like, everything else.”

Remus hesitated, considering this. As much as sharing anything about himself went completely against everything in his nature, he had to admit talking to Marlene usually helped. And it was long overdue. Since his birthday, every time Sirius had come up in conversation he’d changed topics faster than you could say “I’m not gay.”

Marlene’s eyebrows jumped into her hairline and she shot him a look that plainly said, What the fuck are you on about?

Remus choked out a laugh. “No, wait, that came out wrong. Calm your tits.”

“Calm your tits?” Marlene repeated incredulously. “Exactly how much time have you been spending with Black?”

Remus gave a long, suffering sigh. “Too much time,” he said, earning a look of deep pity—which, unfortunately, felt entirely deserved.  “But what I was trying to say was we had the I’m not gay talk yesterday.”

Marlene's perplexed expression turned into one of understanding and she groaned in sympathy. “Oh, fuck off. So he’s deep in that closet.”

“Aren’t we all?” Remus said with another weary sigh.

“Not that deep.”

“Suppose not.”

They shared a grimace, the kind born from a mutual exasperation with life. 

Finally, Marlene shook her head as if she’d just been told there was rain in the forecast. “Ah, I fear I may have to get to know this lad a little better now.”

“You will not say anything,” Remus warned. 

“Remus, love. Who do you think I am?” She chided. “I’m nothing if not discreet.”

“Mhm. Sure.”

“Come on, Moony,” she said pointedly, flashing him a knowing smirk. “Have a little faith.” 

Something seemed to dawn on her then, and she abruptly jumped up, gathering the books she’d scattered across the table and stuffing them in her bag hastily. “Well, guess I’d better be off. Practice, you know.”

“Not a word, Mckinnon!” Remus yelled after her. 

****

“Well don’t we all look nice,” James declared fondly, spinning in place to show off his outfit. 

Remus huffed a self-conscious laugh but tugged on his Docs and stood to take in his friends' party attire. James was dressed in a flowy yellow-and-white striped shirt paired with loose-fitting jeans—an ensemble he was entirely too proud of, but that looked good nonetheless. Peter was perched patiently on the edge of his bed, having finished getting ready ages ago. He was sporting a monochrome brown-on-brown look, his T-shirt adorned with detailed dinosaur skeletons. It was so quintessentially Peter, and Remus felt a wave of affection for his friend at the sight.

And then there was Sirius.

Sirius had on a pair of high-waisted black jeans and, so help him god, a shirt that was about two sizes too small that declared THIS BITCH BITES in red block letters. His nails were freshly painted black—a detail Remus had sorely missed over the past months—but the crowning touch was the silver star clips scattered through his hair, shimmering like constellations. Sirius looked like something out of a daydream, a punk rock Adonis with cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. People sought out muses like him, Remus thought, the kind of beauty that begged to be immortalized in paint.

“Yeah, everyone cleans up very… nice,” Remus finally said, acutely aware he’d been staring but unable to stop.

“Don’t we?” Sirius replied breezily, still fussing with his reflection in the mirror, tugging loose strands of hair into place.

“Speak for yourself,” Peter pouted, unhappily. “I look like a mushroom.” Remus didn’t see it, but Peter had suffered a major blow to his self-esteem since being dumped. 

“Aww, Wormy. Don’t say such things,” Sirius scolded, abandoning the mirror to stand before the other boy. He looked him up and down with exaggerated seriousness and placed his hands on either side of his face, squishing his cheeks. “Yep, just as I thought,” he said as Peter squirmed out of his grip with a disgruntled protest. “Equally dashing and charmingly adorable all at once. The whole bloody package, you might say! Like Moony’s two-in-one shampoo and conditioner! Hey! You get back here—!”

But Peter had already disappeared through the door with a cackle, spirits raised; Sirius could do embarrassing praise like no one else. 

“You really need to start using a proper routine, mate,” James said, patting Remus on the shoulder and shaking his head disapprovingly. 

“Hey, don’t disrespect the two-in-one!” 

“Moony, Moony, Moony,” Sirius said, ruffling a hand through Remus’ hair as he passed—and in doing so sent a chill straight through his spine. “There is a great need to disrespect the two-in-one. Please, for the love of Merlin, just use mine.”

“But then I’ll smell like you.”

“What, is that such a problem?”

“No… I just—”

“Prongs!” Sirius interrupted him, clutching his chest like he’d been shot. “Moony doesn’t like how I smell!”

“Is this true, Moony?” James asked, turning back to Remus with a stern frown as if he hadn’t been present for the entire conversation. “Do you dislike Padfoots’ sweet, sweet coconut scent?”

Remus groaned, fleeing for the door as Peter had done only moments before. “Fuck off, both of you.”

“Not until you admit you love me and my smell and would drink it over your cereal for breakfast!” Sirius called after him. 

“Weirdo,” Remus shot back as the door slammed shut. 

Privately, he thought the metaphor had been fairly accurate. He would 100% bundle up Sirius’ scent, maybe even drink it for breakfast. Then again, if he did smell like Sirius, he’d never get a reprieve from the endless pining he was made to endure.

God, he was pathetic.

Remus only felt more pathetic as the night wore on. The party was in full swing, music blaring, and Sirius was immediately roped into shots with a gaggle of giggling girls. Girls who tucked strands of long hair behind their ears and batted their eyelashes, greedy hands finding a million excuses to touch him, pet him, claim him as theirs. Sirius lapped the attention up like a dog; Remus could practically see his tail wagging, holding back the urge to lick their fucking faces. 

He’s not yours, Remus thought furiously, knocking back a shot at another table. The firewhiskey burned going down, a welcome distraction from the physical pain that tore at his chest. He’s mine. He’ll never be yours. He’s mine. 

But it wasn’t true. Sirius didn’t come over, didn’t shoot him a private smile or drag him into some dark corner to whisper he was his and only his. Because he wasn’t, he never would be. 

“Shot o’clock?” Marlene asked, sidling up to Remus and nudging him out of his brooding.

“Yep,” he replied shortly as a blonde Hufflepuff practically climbed into Sirius’ lap on the couch. Nearby, James was gawking at them—though his jealousy likely lacked the sickening vengeance gnawing at Remus—and Sirius shot him a sheepish grin as he slung an arm around the girl’s shoulders. 

“Remind me why I agreed to this party again?” Remus muttered.

“Because, my poor, poor Remus, I am going to make it fun,” Marlene declared, gripping his chin and forcing his gaze back to her. “And we are going to get ridiculously drunk, okay?”

“I can do that,” Remus agreed.

“Yes. Yes, you can.”

“But first, Marls, please tell me it was not you who encouraged Sirius to dress the way he is right now.”

She gave a guilty smile. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“Jesus, Marlene! Why? Why torture me so? It was mean. It was a very mean thing to do,” Remus whined, gripping his drink tightly. 

“I know, I know. But hear me out, okay? It’s just step one of the process.”

Remus narrowed his eyes. “And what process is that, pray tell?”

With a conspiratorial gleam, she leaned in close and whispered, “Operation coax Sirius Black out of the closet.”

****

When the karaoke first came on, Sirius didn’t realise how terribly in for it he was. James, Peter, and Mary had cobbled together a makeshift stage in the middle of the room, pushing several tables against each other. Sirius watched, his arm still draped around the Hufflepuff girl—Caroline, he thought her name might’ve been—as his best friend leapt into the spotlight, spinning dramatically on the tables and grinning down at the small audience gathering around him.

“Hello, my fellow Gryffindors and our esteemed guests not from Gryffindor,” James announced, his voice raised over the crowd with the help of an amplifying charm. “I’d like to kick this night off with a crowd favourite: Bohemian Rhapsody.”

“Yeah, Prongs!” Sirius cheered, drumming his fingers on the nearby coffee table as the familiar chords of the Queen song began. James shook out his hair and shot a cheeky wink in Sirius’ direction.

Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy…?

It had been a long time since Sirius had listened to this song. If he were honest, he’d been avoiding it. The song stirred feelings he, even now, wasn’t ready to face—feelings he would’ve rather kept buried. But as James crooned the opening lines in his smooth baritone, the lyrics hit far too close to home.

Mama, just killed a man. Put a gun against his head. Pulled my trigger, now he’s dead.

“He’s really good,” Caroline murmured, snuggling closer. She smelled like lilac or lavender—some sweet, floral thing he couldn’t quite place. It didn’t matter.

That horrible sinking feeling tugged at his stomach, heavy as an anchor dragging him down, down, down...

At the end of the day, he was an imposter. A random girl on his arm, as though she were some kind of prize, too afraid to admit he wished she were someone else.

“Sirius, where are you going?” she called as he suddenly sprang up, glancing frantically around the room, unsure what he was even looking for. He had an overwhelming urge to rip the ridiculous star clips out of his hair. Who did he think he was, Freddie Mercury? Gods. 

“I just—” he stammered. “I just need…”

Before he could finish, Marlene appeared in front of him, as if out of nowhere. Ignoring Caroline’s confused protests, she took his arm, and led him to the far side of the room, plopping him into a plush, plum-coloured armchair.

“Black, you okay there? You don’t look so good.”

“Shots. I need shots,” he muttered as James belted out the final lines of the song:

So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye?

So you think you can love me and leave me to die?

“Alright, let’s do shots then,” Marlene said, flicking her wand to summon a tall bottle of firewhiskey. She caught it deftly as it hurtled through the air towards her. “Though I’ve already got a bet going with Remus on who can outdrink the other. Don’t think it’s going to end well for me…”

Sirius forced a laugh, finally letting his eyes scan the room for Moony. He’d been resisting the urge all night—well, all day too, if he was honest.

Remus was mid-laugh, caught in some exuberant drinking game with Lily. The two of them seemed to be having the time of their lives, growing louder with each peal of laughter. Sirius’ chest tightened as he watched Remus tip his head back, exposing his throat, eyes crinkling with rare, unfiltered joy.

He looked away.

Five minutes later, Remus was on stage, and Sirius couldn’t breathe.

“This one goes out to all the lovely ladies in the house tonight,” Remus announced as if he were some sort of rockstar. “You deserve better.” He winked, prompting a wolf whistle from Mary.

The girls cheered as the opening notes of ABBA’s Angel Eyes came on the speaker, leaving Sirius momentarily stunned. Remus’ aversion to the band was no secret—a trait Sirius had always considered one of Moony’s most glaring flaws. Perhaps he had finally come around. Or, more likely, the song choice had been one of the girls’ doing. Either way, Sirius was thrilled.

Remus moved confidently across the stage, practically strutting to the beat of the music. It was then, tilting his head back to stare in wonder as Remus spun back and forth that Sirius realised: Moony was completely and utterly sloshed. Yeah, that made more sense. 

Last night I was taking a walk along the river

And I saw him together with a young girl…

“Did anyone know Remus could sing?” Lily yelled over the music.

There’s a lot you don’t know about Moony, Sirius thought smugly. Like the reason he had all of those scars—equally terrible as they were beautiful. Or the soft, almost needy sound he made when you pulled away before he was done kissing you… (Brilliant, now he was thinking about that).

But the others simply shrugged and shook their heads as Remus’ raspy voice filled the room. 

And the look that he gave her made me shiver

'Cause he always used to look at me that way…

Despite his intoxicated state, Remus leapt from the table with surprising grace, striding toward Mary to croon the next two lines.

And I thought maybe I should walk right up to her and say

Ah ha ha, it's a game he likes to play…

Mary giggled, letting him take her hands as he stared solemnly into her eyes. Then, dropping the act, he grinned and spun her around. 

The crowd parted for Remus like the Red Sea. Sirius had never seen him like this—effortlessly commanding the room, unbothered by the watching eyes. If everyone was always allowed this carefree, uninhibited version of Remus, Sirius knew there would be no end to the lengths they’d go for him. They’d follow him to war, sacrifice everything just to bask in the glow of his attention, to be given a chance at more.

And Sirius had blown that chance. He’d blown it. 

Fuck. 

He watched Remus saunter up to a stunning, bronze-skinned seventh-year with large hoop earrings and her tall, equally handsome boyfriend—both staring at Remus like they were trying to outdo the other. Grinning, Remus pressed a kiss to both their hands before spinning away without a second glance.

Then he came up behind James and Sirius, wrapping an arm around their necks and pulling them in close. Head locked in the crook of Remus’ elbow, Sirius suddenly couldn’t remember his own name, much less why he’d told him they should end it—whatever it was they’d been doing. 

Remus’ hands slid briefly across his shoulders before he released them, pushing the two boys aside playfully as he continued through the crowd.

You’re friends, you’re friends, Sirius reminded himself, heart pounding regardless. You don’t get to feel this way anymore. 

This is what he’d chosen—what he wanted. It was what Moony wanted for Merlin’s sake, he’d said so himself. 

But as the song came to a close Sirius couldn’t shake the feeling—couldn’t help but hope—that it wasn’t true. Maybe he was going crazy—hell, he probably already had—but he swore Remus was singing directly to him. 

Truth be told, Remus barely looked his way the entire song. But then there was that moment, that stupid, stereotypical, boy sees girl and the world falls away moment, and Sirius suddenly found his gaze being returned. Remus sang and he sang the words right to Sirius’ soul:

Look into his angel eyes

You'll think you're in paradise

Then one day you'll find out he wears a disguise

Don't look too deep into those angel eyes

And suddenly Sirius felt guilty. Like he’d done something wrong, like the distance he’d set between them in the word friends was eating Moony apart just as it was him.

This would’ve been the part where Sirius jumped up on that stage with him and admitted he was wrong. He’d grab a mic and tell him exactly how he felt, and they’d kiss as the crowd cheered.

This would’ve been the part where Sirius smiled in relief because he knew he’d never let that boy go again.

Except Sirius wasn’t a girl and no one wanted to see that movie. 

The room erupted in drunken cheers as the music faded, but the credits never rolled and all Sirius felt was longing. 

****

“Godric fucking Gryffindor, Remus is driving me insane.”

Sirius, sprawled back against the couch cushions in a dizzy haze, blinked up in surprise as Marlene flopped beside him with a huff. “Tell me about it.”

“Oh yeah? What’d he do to you?”

Sirius sighed, his eyes drifting automatically towards Moony. He was standing by the drinks table, chatting with that bloke from earlier—the one whose hand he’d kissed. Kissed! “Nothing,” he grumbled, flinging his arm out. It was heavier than expected, and he narrowly missed clocking Marlene in the face.

Marlene hummed in understanding. “Pretty bastard, isn’t he?”

“The worst.” Spurred on by her encouragement, Sirius shot up in his seat, gesturing wildly in Remus’ direction. “I mean, just look at him—his stupid clothes and his stupid hair and his…”

“Stupid face?” Marlene offered. 

“Exactly! Finally, someone who gets it.”

“Oh, I get it alright,” Marlene replied with a knowing smile. 

“Hear that, Moony?” Sirius hollered. “We hate your pretty face! Give the rest of us a chance, why don’t you?”

Remus looked over, raising an eyebrow in question. Marlene motioned him over. 

With an exaggerated eye roll, Remus patted the guy he’d been talking to on the shoulder, whispering something that made him grin, before heading their way. Sirius tried to shove down the gnawing jealousy that threatened to surface, but he had lost most of that control sometime between his fifth and ninth shot of firewhiskey. 

Feeling the urge to stand as Remus approached, Sirius tripped on the edge of the carpet, consequently spilling his drink right down the front of Remus’ shirt. 

“Oops,” he laughed, steadying himself against his chest, hands smoothing over the damp fabric of Remus’ shirt. “Sorry, Moony. Didn’t mean to get you all wet.”

Remus frowned down at himself, eyes a bit unfocused. “Yes, you did.”

“Noo, Moons. Why would I do that?”

“Because you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, Moons.”

“Just said you did, didn’t you?” Remus mumbled, swaying slightly himself. 

“Awh, only because you’re so pretty. You know we love you.”

Remus' cheeks flushed, and he ducked his head. “You know I hate when you say things like that,” he slurred in a low voice. 

“Sure you do,” Sirius giggled, poking him in the ribs. “Anyway, now you smell all yummy, so technically, you should be thanking me.”

Remus gave a wry smile. “Oh yeah, ‘cause who doesn’t love reeking of cheap alcohol?”

“Hey, this is mine and Prongie’s new blend. Very sophisticated,” Sirius insisted. There were a few sips remaining in the bottom of his cup and he shoved it into Remus’ hands. “Try it.”

Remus peered into the cup sceptically, but raised it to his lips, tilting his head back. Sirius waited eagerly as he mulled the taste over. 

“Tastes like a shitty cocktail to me.”

Sirius gasped, swatting him with the back of his hand. “I beg your pardon.”

Remus raised his hands in surrender. “Just being honest. What’s in it?”

“Little o’ this, little o’ that.” Sirius shrugged, then, too casually, asked, “Hey, who was that you were talking to before?”

“Huh? Oh, just this guy from Ravenclaw. He was nice.”

There it was again. That sharp sting of jealousy, like a hot iron, scalding him. He’s not yours, Sirius told himself. That wasn’t how friends worked.

“Nice,” he echoed as if the word was foreign on his tongue.

“Yeah?” Remus frowned slightly.

“Well, that’s—great. Nice to find such a nice guy.”

Remus’ frown deepened. “What’s your problem?”

“I don’t have a problem. What’s your problem?” Sirius shot back defensively, his tone a touch too sharp.

“Seems like you do. What, I can’t make other friends?” Remus challenged, voice laced with annoyance now.

“Moony…”

But Remus wasn’t having it. “Don’t Moony me,” he snapped. “I saw you making friends of your own earlier. Where’d she go, hm? Got what you wanted and kicked her to the curb all in the hour?”

“You calling me a slag or something?” Sirius demanded, heat rising in his chest.

“So what if I am? Gonna deny it?” Remus spat, nostrils flaring slightly. 

Sirius felt a horrible twisting in his gut. Whether it was Remus’ words or the sheer volume of alcohol swimming in his system, it was hard to say. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Remus snarled, drawing attention of nearby partygoers. He didn’t seem to care.

“Get fucked, Lupin,” Sirius retorted, really feeling like throwing up now. In fact… he needed to get out of there. 

“Oh, but I bet you will!” Remus shouted after him as Sirius hurried to the stairs. 

The door slammed shut behind him, muffling the roar of the party. Sirius bolted for the bathroom, clutching his stomach. 

Notes:

Happy New Year!!

Sorry I keep making poor little Siri so tortured I can’t seem to stop fjekekrbejwowltnejqhhaha

Also please ignore the fact that angel eyes wasn’t out in 1976. I wanted to use it so I did. Thank you, that will be all ;)

Chapter 30: redefining friendship

Summary:

boys + friends (but not boyfriends) yk the drill.

I don’t want it

And I don’t want to want you

But in my dreams I seem to be more honest

And I must admit, you’ve been in quite a few

Halley’s Comet

Comes around more than I do

But you’re all it takes for me to break a promise

Silly me to fall in love with you

~Billie Eilish (Halley’s Comet)

 

Waiting for the waxing moon to bloom into the full was like expecting a long and gruelling punishment. You knew it would come, you knew it’d be painful, and yet there was absolutely nothing you could do to stop it. Remus felt it in the air—the push and pull, the tension coiling under his skin, preparing to tear him apart, piece by piece, bone from bone. It was the waiting that truly drove him mad.

The only other thing that had ever held a flame to the taunts of the moon was Sirius. Conversely, the only thing capable of besting the torment Sirius provoked was the moon. Except, with Sirius, he never knew what the waiting and the pent up emotions would bring—what would finally break the tension. Whether the hair-pulling frustration would turn into a screaming match that left him aching and raw days later or something a bit more pleasurable. 

Well, it seemed the latter was no longer an option. But that didn’t stop Remus from hoping, from thinking about it. From wondering if Sirius was thinking about it too. It was so constant, so consuming, that Remus almost welcomed the full moon’s arrival, if only to grant him one night of relief from the incessant ache.

But even as the wolf took over, the frustration remained.

It clawed at the ground, bit at its legs and paws, gnawed at anything within reach. The black dog stepped in, barking frantically, but the wolf snarled, baring its teeth. It turned away, redirecting its efforts to the wall, desperate to escape—to run, to be free. 

Then the door was open, and they were running. The frantic energy ebbed, replaced by the rush of clean air, tantalizing scents, and the ever-present hum of pack, pack, pack.

The wolf could breathe now, but anger still simmered, boiling over whenever the dog left its side. It growled at the creatures that lured the dog away and snapped at the dog’s head to pull it back.

When the sun began its slow ascent, banishing the dreaded moon at last, Remus returned to himself. He lay curled up, achy and limp, the wolf's restless fury still echoing faintly in his bones.

“Here, Moony,” Sirius whispered, his voice low, leaning down to gently drape a tattered blanket over Remus. His gaze was focused elsewhere as he did so, teeth worrying at the inside of his cheek, looking somehow both alive with energy and utterly drained. Remus felt a familiar stab of guilt at having cost his friends another night’s sleep.

“That was a bit of a rough one,” James remarked, slumping against the opposite wall with a loud yawn. Peter had disappeared, although Remus noticed a suspiciously rodent-shaped bulge in James’ shirt pocket; at least someone was getting some sleep. 

“Sorry,” Remus mumbled, his gaze falling to the scuffed wooden floorboards. Scratches, large and fresh, extended out from where he lay, a stark reminder of the wolf’s fury.

“We watch him break every bone in his body, and he apologizes,” Sirius scoffed, shooting James a look that clearly said, Get a load of this guy.

“That’s beside the point,” Remus muttered, his words sluggish as though gravity itself had grown heavier, pulling him down with exhaustion. “You shouldn’t have to—”

“No, Moony,” Sirius cut in sharply.

He crouched down now, blue-grey eyes as fierce as the ocean as he gripped the sides of Remus’ face. His touch was startlingly gentle, his expression achingly earnest.

“We don’t have to. We choose to—because…” Sirius hesitated, jaw tightening before his voice softened. “Because we love you, alright? So don’t be so bloody stupid.”

Remus swallowed hard, pulse fluttering beneath Sirius’ fingertips.

“Alright?” Sirius repeated, more softly this time.

Remus nodded, his throat too tight to speak. He felt trapped, like a bird caught mid-flight, its wings pressed against unyielding bars. He could see James just over Sirius’ shoulder, watching on with tired eyes.

When Sirius finally let him go, Remus exhaled a long breath—a mix of relief and something harder to name. He let his head fall back against the pillow, unsure how it had gotten there but grateful all the same. James was tugging on Sirius’ arm now, steering him toward the door.

“Thanks,” Remus whispered, his eyelids straining to stay open.

James glanced back with a kind smile, his voice warm. “Anything for our Moony.” He gave Sirius a firm pat on the shoulder before the two of them disappeared beneath the Invisibility Cloak, leaving Remus to slip into the waiting arms of sleep.

****

Friends.

At one point in his life, Remus had hardly had any use for the word. He’d sat in his room, picking at the cracking paint on the windowsill, watching the other kids play outside, longing for someone to call a friend. The kids in the yard weren’t really friends, he knew that. Sure, one or two might’ve found someone with whom they unexpectedly clicked—for which Remus could not begin to comprehend—but the rest simply took what they could get, hiding behind the facade.

Remus avoided the facade. He couldn’t imagine anything worse than deluding yourself like that. Because, like most lies, every now and then you’d see through it: one boy would say something wrong, expect too much, or show more of himself than he should. No one hesitated to show their distaste after that, whether it was with plaintive scorn or, if he was unlucky, a punch to the nose. And then they’d carry on, pretending nothing had changed. Growing up without love did that.

But then, somehow, Remus had gotten lucky. Truly lucky. Albus Dumbledore had given him a chance—a better life—and he’d been thrust headfirst into the mix of pompous prats that filled the red-and-gold-coloured walls he now called home.

How lucky I am, he’d thought, when James Potter had accepted him into his life with open arms, despite Remus’ resistance. Despite his belief that he didn’t belong, that he didn’t deserve it. Then, appreciate it while it lasts, he’d thought next. Before they all figure it out. Friendship was conditional, after all.

But he’d been surprised. Again. And again. And again. Because James Potter believed in unconditional friendships, and inexplicably—impossibly—Remus had somehow earned that.

Friends took on an entirely different meaning when he’d stepped onto the train their fifth year and nearly shat his pants at the sight of Sirius Black. At once, he’d noticed the way silky black hair framed such sharp edges, all jawline and cheekbones, the strong but graceful curve of his spine, the broad stretch of his shoulders pulling his school uniform tight. Most of all, he’d noticed the zing of blood through his veins, the way he could hardly swallow through his dry throat.

And then Remus had wondered: had Sirius really changed all that much, or was it just he who was different? To this day, he still wasn’t sure.

That was, of course, the summer he’d met Grant. Remus had spent the months without the Marauders chasing sunshine smiles and tugging fingers through golden curls, learning the meaning of desire. So, it had been with the ferocity of a lightning bold that he’d felt that same desire—but somehow, magnified tenfold—as he’d looked at Sirius and finally recognised it for what it was. 

Naturally, that was the very same moment Remus had realised he was fucked. He may not have known to what extent this was true, but he understood enough—that having feelings for Sirius was a major fucking inconvenience. A complete derailment of his previous definition of friendship.

So when Sirius had requested they “remain friends”, he wasn’t exactly surprised. Remus had been redefining the word friends his entire life; this was just another scratch in the dictionary. He could do it one more time, couldn’t he?

Friends: people who cared for each other, went out of their way to help the other no matter how difficult the task—whether it was creating a spell so they could read or undergoing an incredibly dangerous and illegal transformation. What did it matter? That’s what friends were for. They laughed with you, cried with you, took the blame for you, held you when you needed to be held, and sometimes, on rare occasions—when they needed a little extra love, or had perhaps had one too many drinks—they pulled you into their bed, trailed their lips across your skin, and gripped you hard enough to leave a mark. Friends. There.

Don’t even worry about it, Remus silently insisted as Sirius alternated between uncertain, apprehensive glances and confident, blush-inducing smirks, unable to decide whether he should stay away. There’s no hard feelings. Relax, I understand. Friends can mean whatever you want it to mean.

Don’t worry about me, Remus thought, as Sirius laughed disruptively with James, oblivious to how he gritted his teeth from the other side of the classroom, erasing a sentence so hard his paper ripped. He would get over it. Sure, maybe not for another thirty years, but what did that fucking matter?

Okay, so perhaps he was a bit bitter. A touch resentful. Yes, Sirius had been perfectly within his right to friend-zone him. Fine. Whatever. But the kiss after? The strange—dare he say it—jealousy when Remus had spoken to that Ravenclaw at the party? That warranted, at the very least, a healthy dose of bitterness.

Because truly, what the fuck?

Especially when, to all evidence, the flirting hadn’t stopped.

“Moony,” Sirius moaned theatrically, dropping his chin to his palm and fluttering his eyelashes at him from across the table, grey eyes big and round with feigned innocence.

Remus scribbled a hasty note in the margin of his page, steadfastly ignoring Sirius’ fifth attempt to distract him.

They’d been in the library for less than thirty minutes, and Remus had already exchanged five looks of exasperation with Lily, who was hunched next to him, writing furiously. She had built a fortress of thick books around her in what Remus assumed was an attempt to block out Sirius’ pestering—and general Siriusness.

Sprawled in his chair, Sirius had one foot hooked over the armrest, the other bouncing rhythmically in some silent rebellion against Madam Pince. His Ancient Runes textbook lay abandoned in his lap, his roll of parchment untouched. For the last ten minutes, he’d been occupying himself by transfiguring his quill into increasingly absurd objects—a knife, a tiny porcelain bathtub, and then, what looked suspiciously like a miniature figurine of Remus, scars and all. 

James, for his part, was making a commendable effort to behave but would periodically slide little folded notes between the gaps in Lily’s fortress. Each time, Lily would snatch one up, glance at it, and immediately crumple it in a show of exasperation. But Remus didn’t miss the faint smile that tugged at her lips each time she did. Nor did James, whose grin only grew wider with each discarded note.

“Moooony,” Sirius drawled again.

Remus huffed. “Yes, Sirius?” he asked, without glancing up. 

“I’m bored.”

“Yes, we’re all aware.”

“Yet you don’t want to fix that?”

Remus sighed again, heavier this time, more out of habit than actual frustration. “What exactly would you have me do to fix it?”

Sirius brightened, a sly smirk sliding onto his face. “Oh, I’m sure I could think of something.”

Yeah, he’d walked right into that one.

Scoffing lightly, Remus resolutely turned the page of his textbook, tracing a line of text with his finger. He was very aware of Lily in his periphery, who had paused her writing to watch them. 

“So?” Sirius prodded.

“So, what?”

“I’m waiting.”

Finally, Remus looked up. Sirius was chewing his lip, draped over the table on his elbows, the Remus figurine clutched delicately in his hand.

It’s a game to him. It’s all a bloody game.  

“Well, prepare to be disappointed then,” Remus snapped. “I don’t have time for this.”

Sirius wilted slightly, like a flower plucked from the sunlight. Too fucking bad. 

“There, there, Padfoot,” James said, patting Sirius’ head. “Moony still loves you. Just leave the flirting for a different time.”

Face-down on the table in exaggerated melancholy, Sirius flipped James the bird without looking up.

Remus rolled his eyes. It was things like this that confused him most—how it was obviously a joke, to both of them, but then… Well, James didn’t seem to know about Sirius’ foot and how it had found its way towards him under the table, now slowly brushing along the inside of his pant leg…

Remus jerked back, kicking him away. Sirius didn’t react, still sprawled on the table. Schooling his  features, he prayed James—or Lily, for that matter—didn’t ask why his eyebrows had just shot skyward.

Somewhat in disbelief, Remus trained his eyes back to his notes, doing his best to shove all things Sirius far from his mind (although this proved to be somewhat difficult with him sitting right there; maybe Lily was on to something). 

So determined was he in keeping his eyes glued to the page that he completely failed to notice as someone approached their table—until Lily nudged him, clearing her throat pointedly.

“Hey, Remus…” 

It was the bloke from the party. The one he’d talked to after he'd made an absolute fool of himself; although surprisingly therapeutic, karaoke had been a very, very bad idea. 

“Oh, hey…” He paused, realising he hadn’t the faintest idea what the boy’s name was; having been absolutely pissed by that point of the night, he supposed it must have slipped his mind. Come to think of it, he couldn’t for the life of him remember what they’d talked about. “How’s it?” Remus asked instead.

“Not bad,” the boy replied, shifting on the balls of his feet. “Can I talk to you a second?”

Remus glanced at Sirius, who had finally lifted his head and was watching the interaction with a frown. At the question, his eyes visibly narrowed, hand clenching around his quill. 

“Of course.” Remus smiled a little wider than he normally would’ve, just to spite him. Getting to his feet, he followed the other boy. 

His mind wandered for a moment, an image taking shape of a different Sirius—one who, rather than sitting in his anger, rushed to stop him and tell him exactly what he thought and felt. A Sirius who wasn’t so terrified of what others might think.

Yeah, right.

Remus shook his head, and the image shattered like glass.

They stopped a ways away from the others, just in front of the Muggle history section. Remus waited to hear what the boy had to say, suddenly nervous.

“So, er…” began the boy, whose name still remained a mystery. Remus felt guiltier by the second but couldn’t bring himself to ask. “Have you started the Charms assignment?”

Huh? That’s what this was about?

“Oh… not yet,” Remus responded uncertainly.

Seeming to gain some confidence, mystery boy smiled. Pushing sandy blond hair out of his eyes, he said, “Brilliant. Fancy doing it together? The assignment, that is…”

Whoa, okay. Was that—? Surely that wasn’t what Remus thought it was.

“Yeah, I don’t see why not. It’ll be a good excuse to get away from those chumps.” He jerked his chin toward their table, vaguely aware of his friends watching curiously.

Mystery Boy laughed. He had a nice laugh, Remus realised—smooth and resonant, like the low hum of a cello. “Great. Are you fine to start working on it next week sometime? We can meet back here, say… Monday?”

“Monday’s perfect,” Remus said. James had prefect duties that evening and Peter, chess club; in other words, he’d be avoiding the dorm like the plague.

“All right, it’s a date. Perhaps we can continue our conversation from earlier then.” Mystery boy smiled again, teeth gleaming as he gave Remus a friendly pat on the arm. Then he backed away, heading for the library doors. “See you, Remus.”

Remus waved before spinning around, no less confused than before. Conversation from earlier? Exactly what had he said to the boy?

“Someone please tell me what that guy’s name is,” he demanded once he’d slumped back in his seat, running a tired hand over his face. All this confusion was exhausting.

“What the hell did he want, more like?”

Sirius was openly glowering. He cracked his knuckles, watching Remus expectantly.

“He wanted to be my friieeend,” Remus said, drawing the word out teasingly, mimicking Sirius.

“Bollocks. What did he want, Moony?” Sirius hissed, leaning forward, enunciating each word.

“Asked to work on the Charms assignment together. Suppose he wants to boost his mark,” Remus shrugged.

“Way to go, Moony. Really building a name for yourself in the academic world,” James said with a fond shake of his head, clearly hoping to ease the tension.

It did no such thing.

“But really, going out of his way to come ask, just for an assignment?”

“He was probably already checking out a book, Padfoot. Besides, what’s it to you? Weren’t you going to work on it with Prongs anyway?”

“Maybe I’m just worried you’ll be taken advantage of.”

“You flatter me,” Remus said, his words dripping with sarcasm.

“Well, it’s just a bit random, don’t you think?” Sirius remarked, grey eyes stormy as he scrutinized him. 

“Not that random. We talked at the party last week. But you already knew that.” Yeah, I didn’t forget, he thought, daring Sirius to acknowledge what they both knew to be true. 

“What, and now that makes you best mates, huh?” Sirius asked.

“Aww,” Remus crooned, pressing a hand to his heart. “Are you jealous, Pads? Worried someone will replace you?”

“Fuck off.”

“Hey, Pads. Moony,” James interjected, speaking quickly as if he wouldn’t have time to finish his sentence. “As great as this is, you're gonna get us kicked out if you both don’t shut up.”

They ignored him.

“Worried he’ll treat me better?” Remus continued. “Check all my best mate boxes? Spoiler alert: it doesn’t take much to impress me after you.”

“Fucking hell, Moony. Stop being so dramatic!” Sirius all but shouted, shoving his chair back as he stood, practically livid.

“Me? Dramatic? Look at yourself!” Remus shot back, gesturing sharply toward him.

“Black! Lupin!” came Madam Pince’s shrill voice as she came sweeping around the corner, cutting through their argument. Her hair was drawn up in a painfully tight bun, her glare sharp enough to cut stone.

“Fine! I didn’t want to be here anyway,” Sirius muttered, snatching his rucksack, quill, and untouched parchment before storming off.

Remus collected his things in a similar fashion, fuming with barely-contained rage and cursing himself on top of it all because he’d managed to piss off Madam Pince, who he’d spent years trying to win over. 

As he turned to leave, Lily tugged his arm, halting him mid-motion.

She smoothed a comforting hand over his arm, leaning in with a soft, somewhat pitying smile. “His name’s Simon, by the way, and he’s actually very smart.”

Remus gave a curt nod as she pulled away, then continued storming out, veering down the opposite corridor from Sirius.

****

“Moonyyyy, guess whaaaat,” Sirius called, pushing open the dormitory door with such force it banged against the wall. His excitement fizzled slightly as he scanned the seemingly empty room. Remus’ bed curtains were drawn, though, and Sirius’ heart kicked up at the thought of Moony tucked behind them, cozy with a book.

“Mooony,” he repeated, kicking off his shoes and sliding across the floor in his socks—extra fluffy ones that may or may not have been Remus’.

“Moo–” Sirius stopped short after yanking open the curtains to find the bed, though unmade, decidedly moonyless. Disappointment trickled over him like a leaky drain pipe as he took in the abandoned book, the balled-up jumper on the pillow, and the T-Rex record at the foot of the bed, longing to be played.

He’d been looking forward to today, secretly craving to spend time with Moony alone. Not alone like that. He didn’t expect... Truthfully, he just wanted to be near him, in any way that was allowed (although, perhaps, in ways that weren’t either). 

Since their row in the library, things had gone back to normal—or at least their version of it. Both had buried the moment, adding it to the ever-growing pile of things they didn’t talk about. Sirius had been relieved; avoiding Moony grew stale very quickly. But relief didn’t erase the gnawing wrongness in his chest, a jagged puzzle piece that refused to slot into place.

The past week had been miserable. Worse, Sirius knew it was his fault. His fault they were stuck here again, in this in-between place he despised, with vague expectations and nonexistent rules. It felt like driving through dense fog in a foreign country with no street signs—following roads blindly, unsure where they led. Not that Sirius had ever driven a car, or even left Britain, except for the odd “family” trip to his grandfather’s.

It wasn’t fair to Moony; Sirius knew that much. August had been perfect. For once, they’d been in sync. Things had been good, natural even. And then Sirius, idiot that he was, had gone and kissed him. That one, damned, all consuming kiss had upended everything—thrown them off their axis and sent them spiraling into this endless void.

He’d wanted to let go, to give in to gravity. But he hadn’t realised how impossible it would be to come back from. It was as if, only after he’d jumped had he begun to wonder about the logistics. Would he land flat on his back, crack his skull on the ground, or would he simply keep falling? 

Now, all he had left was to close his eyes and pretend it wasn’t real.

Are you trying to confuse me? Remus had asked the last time they’d been alone—it felt like weeks ago now. The words had wrung Sirius with guilt, his stomach twisting at the bewildered look on Moony’s face. But how could Sirius fix things when he’d never been more confused himself?

How could he have stopped himself when Moony had brushed past him like it was already over—like it really had meant nothing. When Sirius had been hit with the god-awful, sinking realisation that he would never feel Remus’ mouth on his again. He’d never wanted anything so badly. And wasn’t that just the cruelest irony? His words never aligned with how he truly felt, and Remus should’ve sensed that. Sirius had pleaded silently, desperately, for him to sense that. But he hadn’t.

And now it was gone—had slipped through Sirius’s fingers before he could grasp it, and he was left to replay every single moment on repeat until the day he died.

With nothing to distract himself, Sirius stumbled downstairs, hoping to find someone—anyone—to save him from his fate. The common room was weirdly empty for a Monday night, so he wandered aimlessly, half-aware of his surroundings as he looked for somewhere to sit.

Maybe, he thought, as he tripped over a stack of books left on the carpet, the words I’m not like that ringing in his head, it was possible that the mere suggestion of feelings—the clarification he’d felt the need to make—had sent Moony running. Maybe Sirius had made things too… well, Sirius.

It had been good. It had been so good. Why, why, why had he ruined that?

Sinking into an armchair, Sirius tilted his head back and began tracing the patterns on the ceiling. There was a faint smudge on the wooden beam above him; from there, it sort of resembled a house-elf. Or maybe a dog with no tail. He wondered if Moony had ever noticed it.

A warm pressure stilled his bouncing leg, pulling him back to the present. He dropped his gaze to find Marlene smiling at him softly, a question in her eyes.

“Oh, sorry, did you say something?” he asked.

“I just wondered if you were alright.” Marlene tilted her head in concern as she settled into the nearby armchair.

“Hm? Yeah, great. Why do you ask?” 

“You seem… tense, is all.”

“Well, I’m not,” he replied, sharper than intended.

“Black, do I look like the type of person you can lie to?”

“...No,” Sirius grumbled.

“Good.” She tucked her feet under herself, sitting up straighter. “Now, are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

“No.”

“Doesn’t have to do with our dear Remus and his choice of Charms partner, does it?”

Sirius snapped his head up, the realisation cutting through him like lacero. “That’s where Moony is, isn’t it?” he ground out, helpless to stop the full-body reaction that possessed him.

Marlene didn’t seem surprised. She nodded, pursing her lips—like she’d been expecting it. “Yeah, he headed over about…” She inspected her watch. “Four hours ago.”

“Four—? What the bloody hell is taking so long then?” Sirius demanded, throwing his hands in the air. “That project’s due in three weeks!”

“You know Remus,” Marlene tutted, shaking her head. “He’s nothing if not thorough. That’s why I always say, if I had to shag one of you, it’d be him.”

“If you had to—what the fuck?” Sirius spluttered, his body tensing so tightly he swore he could hear battle drums.

“Yeahhh,” Marlene sighed. “Pity it’d never work.”

Sirius couldn’t decide what part of the conversation to focus on. “He’s—you—so what, you fancy Moony, then?” he finally managed.

Marlene giggled, biting her lip. “Ah, but who doesn’t? Can you blame me?”

“I—”

“I bet Simon fancies him.”

“Si—you don’t mean—?” Sirius asked, but from the boiling blood in his veins, he already knew the answer.

“Yeah, duh.”

“You’re wrong. He doesn’t like Remus,” Sirius hissed, needing it to be true.

“What, you don’t think someone could fancy Remus?”

“No! ’Course not. I’m not… blind.” Even if he sometimes wished he were.

“Then what?”

“I just—Moony’s not—so it’s not like something would happen.”

Marlene quirked an eyebrow, and Sirius’s skin was crawling. “Never say never.”

Unbidden, an image flashed in his mind: Remus and the other boy, pressed into the dustiest corner of the library, far enough back that no one would hear them…

Marlene was regarding him pensively, but Sirius couldn’t shake the thought. Gritting his teeth, he found himself imagining retrieving his broomstick from his trunk and beating himself over the head with it. He wouldn’t lie, the idea was appealing.

“Don’t tell me you're homophobic, Sirius,” Marlene said in a low voice. “It’s not a good look.”

“I– I’m not,” he stammered, swallowing against the lump in his throat.

“I mean, come on,” she said, gesturing broadly. “Think of the possibilities. Life’s too short to be close-minded.”

“I guess,” he muttered. Was this really how Marlene felt or was she just—

Sirius stumbled to his feet, glancing around, unable to shake the feeling of being watched. He felt trapped. Exposed. He couldn’t do this—not here. Not ever. 

“Hey! Where are you going?” Marlene called, but he didn’t look back. “Was it something I said?”

She knew, he realised, squeezing his hands into fists to stop their shaking. Maybe they all did.

It was like he’d been shoved in a glass compartment, put on display for everyone to see—to gawk at like a zoo animal. Look here, the sign read. Our newest exhibit, bred in captivity: the once heir to the most esteemed house in Britain—bender, Sirius Black, is now hopelessly in love with his best friend.

Notes:

Am I starting to repeat myself here? Maybe (or maybe I’ve just been editing this for too long). Anyway, life is repetitive and these boys are stupid. Sue me. Hope it was worth your time.
xoxo, gossip girl

Chapter 31: mr. innuendo and the midnight barber

Summary:

dates, pranks, and nighttime chats

Notes:

I had hoped to upload this sooner, but I chose to not fail my midterms instead lol. Anyway, here ya go. Please enjoy. Or else I'll hunt you down and cry in your face.
okok jk ignore that and carry on as you were ;D

And it's hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound

It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you

You're a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town

And I just wanted you to know

That this is me trying

(And maybe I don't quite know what to say)

I just wanted you to know

That this is me trying

At least I'm trying

~Taylor Swift (this is me trying)

 

Remus stepped inside the dormitory, gently shutting the door behind him with a long sigh. His mind was a whirlwind, replaying the last few hours on an endless loop.

As it turned out, he’d been right—and, he supposed, so had Sirius. Simon’s enthusiasm for the Charms assignment hadn’t been entirely genuine. While his motives—and Remus’ confusion—had thankfully been cleared up, the result left Remus more conflicted than ever.

They had fallen into somewhat awkward but friendly conversation as they’d worked through the project's instructions (and Remus worked up his courage). Simon hadn’t made further mention of the conversation he’d alluded to the last time they’d spoken, and thus, Remus had been left in the dark for the better part of an hour.

Finally, unable to wait any longer, he spoke up.

“Listen, I have to ask,” he began hesitantly, “Is there a reason you asked me to be your partner?”

Simon paused mid-motion, his quill hovering long enough for a drop of ink to fall, blotting his parchment. “Well, you’re brilliant at charms, for one.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that…”

“Didn’t you get the top mark last year?”

“I—yeah, I guess I did,” Remus admitted, his neck prickling with embarrassment at the mention of his success and his assumption that Simon’s reasons were anything beyond that. Maybe he’d read too much into it.

“So, I thought…” Simon gracefully ignored his discomfort, “that this would be a perfect opportunity for us to get to know each other better.”

“Right.” Remus nodded, though the words but why hovered at the tip of his tongue, itching to be voiced.

“You seem… confused,” Simon noted.

Remus opened his mouth, unsure what to say to acknowledge the very accurate observation. Before he could speak, the boy’s hand—previously resting idly on the table—shifted closer. His fingers brushed against Remus’, and when Remus didn’t pull away, his thumb followed, tracing the center of his palm.

“I’m—” Remus laughed nervously, staring at the contact in unfiltered surprise. “I’m going to be very honest with you, Simon. I was extremely drunk on Friday.”

“Oh!” Simon withdrew his hand at once, his face flushing a deep crimson. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think—”

“Wait, no!” Remus interrupted, stopping him mid-panic as he began to gather his things. Reaching out, Remus placed a hand on Simon’s arm. “You… weren’t wrong about that,” he said slowly.

Simon slumped in visible relief, letting out a shaky sigh. “Merlin, you just about gave me a heart attack.”

“Sorry!” Remus laughed—this time, it was genuine. “It’s just that… I don’t exactly remember much of our conversation that night.”

“Ohhh.” Simon laughed as well, rubbing the back of his neck. “I can see—yeah, er, this is a bit embarrassing.”

“Oh my God, no, it’s embarrassing for me,” Remus corrected quickly. “I must be a horrible, horrible person.”

Simon waved him off with a grin.

They decided to start fresh after that. Simon filled in the gaps in Remus’ memory, even going as far as introducing himself—something Remus assured him wasn’t necessary (though maybe it was, just a little).

Apparently, Simon had approached him after his karaoke performance, jokingly sympathizing with the poor women wronged by heartless men, as in the song. Remus—mere sips away from alcohol poisoning but somehow masking it well—had quipped back that Simon should save some sympathy for him.

Simon had told him likewise, and the rest was history.

After several hours of mostly comfortable conversation and at least a dozen brushed-off apologies, Remus left the library feeling somewhat guilt-free.

Or he would have—if someone else hadn’t been stubbornly popping into his thoughts.

Every time Simon smiled, Remus felt a hole in his chest, missing that grin; somehow every other smile felt ingenuine. Whenever Simon ran a hand through his hair, Remus was reminded it wasn’t nearly long or dark enough. Anytime their arms would brush or the conversation would wander into ‘less friendly’ territory, Remus searched for that spark, that jolt of excitement, that pitter-patter of his heart, but was left disappointed.

And when they parted ways and Simon leaned in to kiss him on the cheek—a small, tentative gesture enough to make any sane person giddy, Remus knew that his heart might have been exploding if those lips had belonged to someone else.

Most of all, Remus had been painfully, inescapably aware that he was not Sirius Black.

****

Sirius was still awake. 

Staring at his canopy in the dark, Remus’ ears could pick up the telltale sound of blankets being yanked up the bed, a pillow punched into shape. Sirius had been tossing and turning for what felt like hours—and thus, so had Remus. 

When he’d arrived back at the dormitory, only Peter had been there to greet him. Pete had offered a small wave from his spot at the foot of his bed, the latest Seeker Weekly dangling from one hand. Always more considerate than others deserved, he’d silently indicated towards the closed curtains of Sirius’ bed. 

“Think he’s asleep,” he’d whispered. 

Remus had nodded, grateful for the quiet.

Peter had, evidently, been mistaken. 

Sighing, Remus rolled over, stretching an arm out and fumbling for his watch on the bedside table next to him. It read a quarter past two in the morning. 

It wasn’t unusual for Sirius to have difficulty sleeping. For both of them to lay awake, as what felt like the rest of the world peacefully slept, listening to each other’s movements. At least, Remus liked to think Sirius was listening, that they were both silently reaching out in the dark, wishing to be just a bit closer. It was childish, but a comforting thought, that maybe he was less alone than he felt.

Sometimes, Remus swore he could hear Sirius’ heartbeat, steady and in sync with his own as if he were lying beside him. Close enough to touch.

He’d never admit this, of course.

Sitting up, Remus ran a hand down his face, grappling with the simply terrible idea that had just occurred to him. The problem was that it had already taken root, now impossible to pull free.

So without knowing why, or what purpose it could possibly serve, Remus did something he never did: he went to Sirius’ bed.

Standing before the closed curtains, Remus took a steadying breath—too loud in the quiet night—before whispering, “Sirius.”

For a long, drawn-out moment, there was no response. Then came a tentative, “Moony?”

“Yeah. Can I… come in?”

The curtains pulled back at once, revealing Sirius in the dim light. He was sitting halfway upright, covers tossed aside, propped on an elbow.

Heart beating unnecessarily fast, Remus climbed onto the bed, carefully leaving enough space between them. He’d just tell Sirius to keep quiet, then leave. That was all.

Muttering a quick silencing spell, Remus turned his attention back to Sirius—who had already settled onto his side, watching him through heavy-lidded eyes.

Well, he hadn’t counted on him looking like that.

“Hi,” Sirius breathed, brushing a strand of hair from his face. His shirt was twisted, riding up on one side to reveal pale skin and the slight curve of his waist.

Remus swallowed. “Hi.”

Sirius glanced down, confusion wrinkling his eyebrows. “What are you staring at?” he asked, tugging the fabric of his shirt back into place as he readjusted his position.

“Nothing, I—” Remus’ gaze flicked to the familiar AC/DC lettering just visible in the dark. “Is that my shirt?”

Sirius glanced at himself again. “Oh. I guess so. My bad.”

To Remus’ horror, he reached down as if to pull it over his head. 

“No! No, it’s fine,” he blurted, hand shooting out to stop him before he thought better of it.

“You sure?”

“Positive. Looks better on you anyway.” 

“Oh.” Sirius blinked, lips parting slightly as he looked down and began fiddling with his sheets.

God, he was making this awkward. Sirius had explicitly asked to be friends, and here he was, sitting on his bed, clearly violating every boundary.

Trying to salvage his dignity, Remus cleared his throat. “Anyway, would you mind toning down all the huffing and blanket wrestling? I swear, it sounded like someone else was in bed with you.”

Oh, dear lord, why had he said that?

Sirius eyed him, lips curling up suggestively at the corners. “Did it now? Was poor Moony jealous?” 

“Piss off, you wanker. I can’t sleep.”

His smirk climbed higher. “Since when was that a bad thing?”

Remus groaned, inwardly and outwardly. “Since always.”

“Well, that’s just sad, Moony,” Sirius pouted, leaning closer, knee inadvertently brushing his.

Remus nearly fell off the bed trying to back away. “Fuck,” he muttered, gripping the mattress to steady himself.

When he glanced back, Sirius had his bottom lip pulled between his teeth, eyes dark like he’d learned a secret he was just dying to give away.

Remus felt that look in the depths of his stomach, curling through him like fire. It made him want to swear again, louder, and see what else he could draw out of Sirius.

Before he could do something they’d both regret, he sat up, swinging his legs clumsily over the edge of the bed in one hurried motion. “If my position on insomnia changes anytime soon, you’ll be the first to know,” he said stiffly. “Now keep it down, Pads.”

Sirius gave a lazy, mock salute. “Oh, I’ll try. Sweet dreams.”

Remus couldn’t bite back his scoff to the silent room as he padded back to his bed. Screw Sirius for making everything feel like an innuendo. 

Yeah, you would, came that traitorous inner voice, quick to jump in with a helpful remark.

Remus knocked himself on the side of the head. Hard.

Yeah, you a—

“Shut the fuck up,” he muttered to absolutely no one.

Would he ever catch a break?

Not if you’re going to pay Mr. Innuendo midnight visits to his bed, that’s for sure.

Flopping down on his stomach, Remus pulled out his wand and cast another silencing spell—for the sole purpose of groaning into his pillow.

****

“Okay, now for the fun part,” Remus said, amber eyes alight as he gestured enthusiastically, completely in his element.

They were about to carry out a prank that, if successful, would cement their status as legends, as heroes of their generation (if they weren’t already, mind you). Sirius felt a surge of excitement, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet as Moony explained the intricacies of Muggle hair dye.

“Now, usually, if you use magic to dye someone’s hair, it can be pretty easily reversed, but…”

James let out an excited squeal, cutting him off. “Ooh, ooh, wait—I know this! We learned about it in Muggle Studies. If you combine their products with magic, sometimes it’s more effective!”

“Exactly,” Remus said, snapping his fingers. “Unlike most spells, this could be permanent.”

Sirius tried not to swoon; Moony was so smart.

“How are we making sure he takes the sleeping draught?” he asked instead.

“Pinky, the house-elf, has informed me he’s sent tea up to his office every evening at 10 o’clock sharp,” Remus told them, biting back a pleased smile which Sirius fought the urge to copy. 

“Excellent. Well done, Moony,” James said, clapping him on the shoulder as he made for the dormitory door. 

“So, Wormtail will go in, unlock the door, and slip the draught into his tea while Prongs and I set off the dung bombs,” Remus continued.

James and Peter nodded eagerly.

“But!” Remus held up a finger, pinning James with a stern look. Sirius had to suppress the urge to call him Professor Lupin. “We can’t overdo it,” Remus warned. “If we rile him up too much, he might forget about the tea altogether.”

“Hang on,” Peter interjected, leaping off his bed to follow as Sirius threw on his shoes. “What about Mrs. Norris? I don’t fancy being eaten, thanks.”

“Aha—now, that’s where Padfoot comes in,” Remus said, catching Sirius’ eye with a wink.

Sirius smirked in return, before scrambling down the stairs ahead of the others, hoping to hide the flush creeping steadily up his neck.

As they descended the castle’s many winding staircases, slipping behind tapestries and through various hidden passageways, Sirius found himself revisiting the familiar argument he never seemed to resolve with himself.

See, he knew a lot of his points were more akin to excuses than actual arguments, but this next one—well, even Merlin himself wouldn’t have been able to deny its validity:

He had a very warped perception of love. 

Growing up, Sirius had looked for signs of love like water in the desert. He’d watched his parents, as any child would, searching for clues, trying to determine what it looked like—or even where to find it. Instead, he learned that love and hatred were often indistinguishable. His father would disappear for days at a time, leaving his mother stormy and fretting; maybe she missed him. But then he’d return with halfhearted excuses, and her screams would cut through the house like broken glass.

Peace only came when they turned away from each other in a begrudging truce, born from sheer exhaustion. His mother would storm off, his father would exhale in relief, and Sirius learned that sometimes love was just the absence of war.

Before James Potter, Sirius had never heard the words I love you. James tossed them around carelessly, like someone else might say hello or goodbye. At first, they’d sounded foreign, strange—something to repeat just to understand. But five years later, Sirius threw them around too. Sure, sometimes they felt a bit clunky, like they didn’t quite fit on his tongue, but he liked the way they sounded. He liked how they wrapped around his chest and stayed there.

And yet, none of that could erase what had come first. That backward, falsity of love was still ingrained deep.

So how could he trust himself to know if he was in love? He barely understood what it was supposed to look like, much less how it was meant to feel.

That was it, Sirius realised. Relief swelled in his chest, lifting him from that place of dread he’d been stuck in for days. What he’d mistaken for love—being in love—was all misplaced, a natural reaction to his tumultuous upbringing. It was basic psychology.

The snapping of fingers in front of his face brought Sirius back to the present. James grinned goofily at him in the dim light of the staircase they’d stopped beneath. 

“You’re up, Padfoot. Operation Distract the Cat.”

“Yessir,” Sirius replied, brushing past Remus and through the tapestry. 

Before he got far, a hand grabbed his wrist, pulling him back.

There was a beat of silence as he met Moony’s gaze, the warmth of his fingers a faint brand against Sirius’ skin.

“Don’t get caught,” Remus said softly, releasing him.

Sent quite literally stumbling into the corridor beyond, Sirius blinked against the sudden brightness as his eyes adjusted. But the ghost of Remus’ touch lingered, searing faintly against his wrist.

****

The office door creaked open, echoing loudly in the silent corridor. Both boys cringed at the sound.

"Okay, go on."

"I'm going!"

Cautiously, as if expecting the entire room to be booby-trapped, Sirius poked his head inside. The office looked exactly as he—not so fondly—remembered: sickly green walls, hideous carpeted floors, and a faint scent of mothballs and cat piss.

"We’ve got the right room, alright." Sirius turned to grin at Moony but jumped back when he found him much closer than expected. Remus had crowded in, one hand braced against the wall as he tried to peer over Sirius’ shoulder.

"Godric, Moony!"

"Sorry. Do you see him in there?" Remus asked, stepping back.

"Hold on." Sirius leaned in further to scan the room.

The first three steps of their plan had gone off without a hitch, including Sirius’ task to lure Mrs. Norris away from her master (and then capture her). He felt a bit wrong about carrying a stupefied cat in his backpack, but it was all for a good cause. Now, as he scanned the room again, Sirius did his best to ignore Remus practically breathing down his neck. His gaze landed on their target.

At first, Sirius thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. But no—he blinked, and it was still there.

In the corner, amidst a heap of patchwork blankets, Filch was slumped nearly head over arse, his long hair twisted up on his head and held together by what was unmistakably a purple butterfly clip. The very same clip that had once perched atop Mary’s head—the one she'd sworn up and down had been stolen.

Sirius burst into a fit of giggles.

"Padfoot!" Remus clamped a hand over Sirius’ mouth. "Be quiet!"

Sirius froze. In the hilarity of the moment, he’d forgotten himself. Peter wouldn’t be much use as a lookout if they kept making such a racket. Now, pinned under Remus’ firm grasp, Sirius could only nod, struggling to ignore the inconvenient thrill of his proximity.

Gods, Moony was so lovely and so close and—

No.

Shaking the fog from his head, Sirius casually pulled Remus’ hand away and led the way into the office.

“No. Is that—?” Remus whispered as he noticed Filch’s slumped figure and the clip perched delicately on his head, looking suspiciously like a real, live butterfly—just as Mary’s had. “That’s not—I’m dreaming. Padfoot, pinch me. I’m dreaming.”

Sirius shook his head, gleefully. “You’re not dreaming, Moony. Otherwise, I am too.” Just for good measure, he reached out and gave Remus a sharp pinch on the arm.

“Ow!” Remus batted him away, but the grin didn’t slip from his face.

“Pinch me, Moony,” Sirius whispered, holding out his arm.

Remus pinched him. 

“Didn’t feel it.”

He ignored him.

“Mooonyyy.”

Rolling his eyes, Remus grabbed a fistful of Sirius’ hair and tugged. Sirius felt his head jerk backward. “Feel that?”

At once, Sirius’ cheeks heated up and he swallowed thickly. Remus was already bending over the caretaker, poking him on the side of the face and didn’t seem to notice.

Godric Gryffindor, that was hot.

“Should we take it back for her?”

“Huh?” Sirius blinked.

“Mary’s clip.”

Oh.

“Let’s let him have it,” he snickered. “It’s kind of…”

“Please don’t tell me you’re about to call Filch cute,” Remus begged.

“Ehh,” Sirius paused. He glanced at Filch again, the thin, misshapen bun and sour expression he wore even in sleep. “Yeah no, you’re right,” he shivered, laughing. “Some people can never change. No matter how many hair clips they have.”

Remus laughed. “Agreed. Alright, do you have the dye?”

“Yep.” Sirius slipped his rucksack off his shoulder, digging through its contents until his hand brushed a mound of fur. He recoiled in alarm. “Merlin, I forgot she was in here.”

He pulled Mrs. Norris out and set her on the desk. The cat flopped limply, fur slightly askew but otherwise fine.

“How long has she been in there?” Remus asked, his expression caught between disbelief and laughter.

“Uh, this whole time? Where else was I supposed to put her?”

Remus pressed a fist to his mouth, shaking slightly as though trying not to laugh—or cry, Sirius wasn’t sure. “Padfoot, were you planning on dyeing Mrs. Norris too?”

“Obviously.”

Remus chuckled softly, then shrugged. “You know what? Hell yeah. Let’s do it.”

So the gloves came out, and they got to work. Remus started on Filch, and Sirius on the cat. It was strangely therapeutic, he thought as he made sweeping strokes across her fur with his brush, ensuring an even job—not that she deserved it. He hated the cat nearly as much as her master; she’d learned everything from Filch after all. His grudge had only worsened since discovering his Animagus self. Even the dog had dreamt of vengeance. He hoped it tasted as sweet as he’d imagined.

He also hoped Filch hadn’t secretly been longing for a bold, trend-setting hairstyle. It seemed less unlikely now that they knew about his affinity for fashion.

The time spent painting gave Sirius a rare moment to simply be with Moony. They didn’t do this as often as he’d like—joking and giggling quietly together, just the two of them. It made Sirius crave things that couldn’t possibly exist, much less make any sense. Nameless things he told himself he didn’t actually want.

Well, some of them he did. Some of them could maybe even happen. Like the day James and Peter moved out of their flat. They’d always talked about living together, the four of them—but what about when James finally bribed Lily into loving him and moved in with her? Or when Peter found a girl and a place of his own?

Where would that leave Sirius? Where would that leave Moony?

Maybe they’d be left together.

Sirius could almost picture it: lazy mornings waking with the afternoon sun, something that had never been possible with James around. They’d open the windows—there would be so many windows, nothing like the gloomy, oppressive house he’d grown up in—and let the place breathe. They’d take their breakfast outside on the patio. Moony would read the paper, really settle into that wise, old-man mentality, and Sirius would simply watch him and let the world drift by.

At least for a while. Until Remus found a girl too.

Sirius wouldn’t make a fuss. He’d let him go—even if the thought made him feel slightly miserable, like he was drowning, just a bit. It would be fine. That feeling wouldn’t last.

“Ta-da! How’s it look, Moony?” Sirius asked, inspecting his work proudly. Mrs. Norris was now a startling lime colour—from her head to her many-toed paws.

“I’d say she was born to be green,” Remus said, pulling off his gloves and stepping back to admire his own work.

Green-haired Filch was truly a sight to behold. When Sirius picked Mrs. Norris up and held her next to him, he was overtaken with pride for their masterpiece. “Wow, you can hardly tell them apart now.”

“But wait, something’s missing,” Remus said, a slow smirk growing on his face.

“Of course! How could we forget?”

Moony pulled the butterfly clip from his pocket, snapping it cheekily in Sirius’ face. Sirius swatted him away, biting back a laugh.

“You do the honours,” Remus said.

Ignoring the brush of their fingers as he took the clip, Sirius came around the back of Filch’s armchair. Sweeping the crusty old man’s hair back, he clipped it into an ‘elegant’ half-updo. “Blimey, it actually looks kind of… good.”

“It kind of does,” Remus agreed, amused. “Honestly, we almost did him a service. He’s halfway to being an eligible bachelor.”

“Right! He should thank us, really. How could we get in trouble for this?”

“Exactly. You know, maybe we should open a business. Start taking bookings.”

“Yes!” Sirius exclaimed. He realised he was grinning madly at Moony, but he couldn’t help it, not when Moony was grinning right back. “Ladies, gentlemen, people and pets alike, make your reservations now at Moonpads’! Here, we do it all!” he said in his best commercial voice.

Remus’ eyes softened unexpectedly. “Moonpads’, eh?”

Sirius shrugged, zipping up his bag. “It rolls off the tongue better than just Sirius and Remus’, don’t you think?”

“Moonpads,” Remus said again, testing it out. “I like it.”

I like you.

Wait, no.

Argh. What was the use?

“We make a good team,” Remus said.

Sirius could only stare up at him. “Yeah, we do.”

They were startled by the click of the doorknob. Sirius’ legs hit the desk as Peter’s face appeared in the doorway, his features laced with faint panic. His eyes flicked toward Filch in the corner, quirking briefly in amusement before he motioned them urgently.

“Guys, we gotta go. McGonagall’s coming this way.”

Sirius and Remus exchanged wide-eyed looks.

“Shit,” they both said simultaneously.

Throwing his rucksack over his shoulder, Sirius scrambled around the desk and out the door, Remus on his heels. Their masterpiece would soon wake, which would be a sight he was sorry to miss, but now they needed to run.

Notes:

so this chapter is kinda like part 1 of 2 cause it turned out to be longer than expected, but yay what did we think??

the prank was partly inspired by a taylor swift song btw. lmk if you know it ;)

fun fact: my aunt’s name is Mrs. Norris (she’s a teacher so) kinda cool, eh? lolz

Chapter 32: a closet for 2

Summary:

what happens in the closet, stays in the closet

The way you move is like a full on rainstorm

And I'm a house of cards

You're the kind of reckless that should send me running

But I kinda know that I won't get far

And you stood there in front of me just

Close enough to touch

Close enough to hope you couldn't see

What I was thinking of

~Taylor Swift (Sparks Fly)

 

No sooner had they skirted the corner to avoid McGonagall’s approaching footsteps than Peter deemed the situation hopeless. One moment he was sprinting ahead, glancing frantically over his shoulder, and the next, he vanished—replaced by the scurrying patter of Wormtail’s paws. Sirius just about collided with Remus to avoid trampling the rat, who promptly scurried off through a hole in the wall.

“That bastard,” Sirius hissed. “He still has the map.”

The echo of McGonagall’s footsteps reverberated through the corridor, growing louder. Remus was lagging, and Sirius began to resign himself to a long, punishing month of detentions—at best.

“Quick. In here,” Remus said, leaving no room for argument as he yanked open the door to a nearby broom cupboard and shoved Sirius inside.

Truthfully, there wasn’t much room for anything, Sirius realized as they both panted for breath, nearly knocking heads in the dark. He supposed he should have remembered that—having been in this very cupboard a few months prior when Mary had tugged him inside. Back then, the cramped space hadn’t been an issue. In fact, it had been rather convenient.

Now, though, inconvenient didn’t begin to cover it. Instead of appreciating the closeness, Sirius was using every ounce of willpower he had to ignore it.

“How long should we wait?” he asked.

Remus sighed. “I don’t know. Guess we’ll have to hope Wormtail finds Prongs and they come and get us.”

“Doubt it. Gods, it’s just like him to do this.”

“Hey, that’s not nice,” Remus scolded. “Have a little faith.”

Sirius huffed. “I swear, though, if Prongs hasn’t secured our alibi by now—”

“He will.”

Sirius nodded reluctantly. He didn’t mean to sound so whiny. It was just... a bit much, being stuffed so close to Moony. The tests of restraint seemed endless these days. Even leaning as far back as possible, their knees kept knocking together. Somehow, the darkness only heightened everything—every accidental brush of their bodies, every small movement Remus made. It was maddening.

Quickly spiralling, Sirius resorted to his last line of defence: stupid, unnecessary jokes that took the attention off himself. In other words, if he could annoy Remus enough, maybe it would distract him from the disaster unfolding inside Sirius’ head.

“Well, this is cozy,” he said, forcing a chuckle.

Remus let out a strangled laugh. “You could say that.”

“But, ah, how I’ve missed this closet,” Sirius added, voice dripping with false nostalgia.

Remus didn’t reply, but Sirius could practically feel the judgment radiating off him. Encouraged, he pressed on.

“Wonder how many people have done it in here.”

“Ach, that’s what you’re thinking about?” Remus groaned. “God, Sirius.”

Before Sirius could stop it, a memory he’d been trying—and failing—to forget surged to the forefront of his mind. The heat in his face was immediate and unbearable.

“Fucking—Merlin’s—” He cut himself off, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Alright there?” Remus asked, amusement lacing his words.

“Yeah,” Sirius croaked. “Just thought of something.”

It didn’t help that in both the memory and this godforsaken closet his back was pressed against the wall.

“What? Forget to hand in that essay for Slughorn you kept procrastinating?”

“No,” Sirius snapped, feeling hot and prickly all over. “Well, actually, yes. But no.”

“Right.”

In an attempt to change the subject, he said, “You know, I haven’t been in here since Mary. If you know what I mean.”

Remus scoffed. “I think I can imagine.”

“Oh, I bet you can.”

“Piss off.”

“I would, but…” he gestured to the cupboard doors and their general predicament. 

Remus shifted slightly, though there was nowhere to go. “Really, though, Padfoot? A broom cupboard? Why not do it in bed like a normal person?”

“Well, Moony, if I recall correctly, someone told me to stop bringing girls back to the dorm.”

“And yet you still did.”

“Didn’t.”

“Did.”

“Did not. Besides, don’t give me that. Having a little broom cupboard fun is a Hogwarts rite of passage,” Sirius argued. “You can’t graduate until you’ve done it at least once.”

“Damn. Looks like I won’t be graduating,” Remus joked, though his voice sounded a bit strained.

Sirius swallowed hard. They were approaching dangerous territory. “Ah, there’s still time. Don’t panic just yet.”

“Too late,” Remus muttered.

“C’mon,” Sirius said, his own voice growing awfully strained now too—though he couldn’t imagine for the same reason. “You have lots of prospects.”

Remus laughed like he’d said something utterly ridiculous.

“You do.”

“Hardly.”

“I know for a fact you do.”

Remus ran a hand through his hair, messing his curls in a way that pulled at something deep inside Sirius, tugging until every last bit of that suppressed yearning was yanked to the surface. 

Remus heaved a sigh. “None of them I want,” he said, as if it pained him.

Sirius didn’t know whether that came from a place of embarrassment from the mention of his feelings, always kept so close to his chest. Or from the feelings themselves. If Remus was yearning for someone too. 

“I don’t believe that.”

Remus simply shrugged.

“Moony, you’ve practically your pick of the school,” Sirius said, as a strange sense of déjà vu passed through him. Had they had this conversation before? “I bet you ten galleons if you asked someone out—anyone of your choosing—they’d say yes.” 

Hell, even some of the boys liked him, Sirius thought bitterly, remembering that pesky one—Christopher. Not to mention Simon, if what Marlene had said had been anything to go by.

“I’m not gonna do that,” Remus said firmly.

“Why not?”

“‘Cause I don’t want to.”

“But why?”

“Because!”

The sharp thud of Remus’ hand on the wall made Sirius flinch. Their faces were suddenly inches apart, so close he could catch the faint, burnt-sugar scent that always seemed to cling to Remus’ skin. It filled his senses, heady and intoxicating.

“I don’t want to,” Remus said quietly, through gritted teeth.

“Okay, Moony,” Sirius breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. “Okay.”

His heart hammered in his chest, legs wobbling precariously as he fought to stay upright. To remain in control. To not give in. 

Was it the wolf thing? He wondered vaguely. Was that why Moony refused to give someone a chance? He’d always been big on the whole self-hatred thing. That would certainly track.

He didn’t even know why he’d pushed it. 

He just—

He just needed Remus to step back. He couldn’t think. Everything felt hazy with him this close. The lines blurred between right and wrong, sanity and madness, until Sirius couldn’t tell if he was on the verge of crossing them.

Remus had to know what he was doing. He wasn’t stupid. Nor was he blind. It was right smack in front of him.

Little did Remus realise, Sirius was this close to saying fuck it all and kissing him.

For one reckless moment, he leaned forward, shifting unconsciously onto the balls of his feet—

And then Remus cleared his throat. Finally removing his hand from the wall, he retreated, leaving anticipation singing faintly in Sirius’ bones. 

Fuck him.

Please.

Sirius took a deep, steadying breath in and shook out the cobwebs in his head, remembering himself.

“Still though. You do have prospects,” he couldn’t help but say.

After a beat of tense silence, Remus finally replied, “You know what? Fine. If the opportunity presents itself, and I just so happen to be stuck in a cupboard with one of my supposed prospects, I’ll take it.”

Take it. Take it. Please just take it.

“Even if that prospect is Simon?” Sirius asked.

“Simon??” The incredulity in Remus’ voice made Sirius immediately backpedal.

“Hah—no, Moony, I’m only kidding! It was just something Mckinnon said. Hilarious, that one. Probably messing with me.”

And he’d fallen for it like a fool.

“Mckinnon? What did she say to you?” Remus asked, sharply.

“Oh. Er.” Sirius flushed. “Just that she fancied you. And that Simon probably did too.”

“Oh my God,” Remus muttered. “I am going to murder Marlene.”

Sirius snorted despite himself, half-hoping Remus would elaborate. He didn’t.

He tried distracting himself, but all he could focus on was the warmth of Remus’ breath against his temple, sending shiver upon shiver down his spine. He wanted to scream.

Maybe his feelings were misplaced. Maybe it was all in his fucked-up head. But this—this need, fierce as a firecracker—wasn’t going anywhere. Not unless—

Sirius’ pulse leapt into his throat.

It was indulgent. It was selfish. Greedy.

But what if—

What if the only chance he had at ridding himself of that desire was to use it up? Because as unforgivable as it was to want him, the want itself was too unforgiving to ignore. 

“God, would you quit breathing so heavily,” Remus hissed.

“Sorry. Nervous,” Sirius mumbled, too quick to clarify. “To get caught, I mean.”

Remus was silent for a moment, and Sirius cringed at himself, praying he couldn’t see through the lie—or hear the frantic pounding of his heart.

“It’s not like we haven’t been caught before,” Remus said finally.

“Yeah, just…” Sirius waved a hand vaguely, misjudging the distance and smacking Remus in the chest. Flushing again, he quickly stepped sideways toward the corner—

His foot connected, instead, with the sturdy metal of—ah yes, that bucket he’d noticed upon entering. Still, the realisation was too late to save him. The next thing Sirius knew, he was stumbling directly into Remus.

Sirius forgot how to breathe.

Somehow, he’d managed to push Moony right up against the wall—in a way that ensured there was hardly an inch of their bodies that wasn’t touching. Remus’ hands had come up instinctively, gripping Sirius’ waist. Sirius had one hand braced on Remus’ shoulder, the other pressed between their chests. He could feel every sharp angle of Moony’s body against his own.

The silence was deafening. Only their uneven breathing and the wild hammering of Sirius’ heart filled the space, each sound amplified, each beat pounding like a drum in his ears. It was unbearable, unrelenting.

Seconds ticked by and neither of them had moved. Why hadn’t they moved? 

Now. Do it now, Sirius told himself. Before—

Hushed voices floated in from the corridor outside, the sudden intrusion snapping the moment in two. Half pushed away, half jumping backwards, Sirius stumbled, losing his balance entirely as his foot caught the cursed bucket again.

“Fuck!” He gasped in pain as he landed, sprawling on the ground, his arse quite literally wedged inside the bucket.

“Merlin, you alright there, Black?”

Back aching and more than a little mortified, Sirius blinked up at James and Peter, their amusement as keen as the sting in his hip. His brain scrambled for something, anything to explain the ridiculous scene. He barely managed to catch a glimpse of Remus slipping silently out the door behind their friends, his expression unreadable.

Grinning like a madman, Sirius thanked the adrenaline for jolting him back to reality.

“Oh hey, lads. How’s it hanging?”

****

The anticipation was palpable as they gathered at breakfast the next day, the usual morning clatter of the Great Hall providing a deceptive cover for their underlying excitement. By a stroke of luck, someone had left the Slytherin common room late the night before, allowing James to slip in unnoticed under the Cloak and sneak into the sixth-year boys’ dormitory.

Whether everything else would go according to plan, however, was a different story.

They couldn’t afford to look like they were expecting anything out of the ordinary, which was why Remus had invited a distraction to join their table—Simon and his best friend, Fer. She too was from Ravenclaw and, much like many others in her house, had a sharp wit and a knack for noticing things you’d prefer to keep hidden.

Completely unrelated, of course, was the broom cupboard incident, which Remus was devoting most of his mental energy to not thinking about. The memory of Sirius pressed against him in the dark, sinfully close, was enough to make him consider things he’d never had the nerve to want.

Interrupting his latest failed attempt to banish the thought, Fer spoke. “So, what do you guys do for fun around here?” she asked, brightly, as if she’d moved towns and not tables.

“Ah, you know. Drink tea. Eat oatmeal. Crazy stuff like that,” James quipped as he passed Remus the sugar. Sirius, though closer, had ignored the request, his foul mood apparent despite the triumph of their prank waiting to be discovered.

“You’re kidding. I did that just yesterday,” Simon deadpanned, turning a crooked smirk on Remus as he said it.

Remus laughed politely, adding a generous three spoonfuls of sugar to his tea.

“The world’s turned upside down,” Sirius said flatly, without an ounce of humor. He took an aggressive bite into his toast.

“Ignore him,” James said easily. “He’s just miffed they ran out of Nutella.”

“Here he comes,” Peter muttered, coughing un-surreptitiously to get their attention.

Remus, sitting beside Simon and facing away from the Slytherin table, resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder. “Green hands?” he asked instead.

Peter grinned. “Green hands.”

“I’m sorry, am I missing something?” Simon asked, glancing behind him briefly before turning back to the group.

Mary, who’d been staring into her cereal in a sleepy haze, leaned in from Sirius’ left. “It’s best to ignore them. I do.”

Just then, the doors to the hall opened once again. At first, there was no reaction. Then came a wave of audible gasps. Lily spat out her pumpkin juice.

“No.”

Filch limped toward the head table, looking utterly livid. His hair, his beautiful hair, hung in limp, green-dyed strands around his shoulders, free from the meticulous up-do Sirius had given him. He radiated fury, his scowl deep and unmistakable.

“You didn’t,” Lily whispered, eyes wide. “Please, Remus, tell me you didn’t.”

Sirius disguised a laugh as a sharp cough. Remus sipped his tea.

The real problem, though, was James. His face glowed with pride as he glanced between his friends, his expression portraying none of the innocence they’d rehearsed. Remus was pretty sure there were actual tears in his eyes.

“Of course you did,” Lily sighed, defeated.

By the time Filch reached the head table, whispers filled the hall, punctuated by the occasional stifled laugh. As Filch leaned down to mutter furiously into McGonagall’s ear, he jabbed a finger directly at the Marauders’ table.

“Uh oh,” Peter chittered, looking both gleeful and nervous.

Half the room turned toward them (the other half had already been staring). But then, mercifully, a Hufflepuff at the opposite end of the hall stood up, pointing dramatically.

“Look! Snape’s hands!”

All eyes shifted to the Slytherin table, where Snape sat hunched over his plate. His hands, unmistakably green, clutched his utensils in a death grip. He froze, staring at them, realisation dawning on his face. His head snapped up, eyes narrowing as he scanned the hall.

“They did it!” he snarled, jabbing his green-stained finger toward the Marauders. “They set me up!”

All four of them turned on identical, practiced expressions of confusion, stubbornly avoiding each other’s gazes. Remus silently begged that James or Sirius wouldn’t make eye contact and start laughing. As it was, the outrage on the greasy Slytherin’s face, mixed with a growing look of panic, was making the whole situation quite challenging.

McGonagall slid her chair back, her features sharp with exasperation as she stood. She looked so unenthused that Remus almost felt bad. Almost.

“Mr. Snape, please come with me,” she said sternly, walking briskly towards the doors without looking back. 

“But, it’s their fault!” Snape protested, his voice shrill with frustration. “I had nothing to do with this. Those gits—”

“Quiet! If you want to avoid detention for the rest of your time here, I suggest you follow me. Now.”

Muttering under his breath, Snape reluctantly pushed out of his seat and followed her.

“Rot in hell,” he spat as he passed the Gryffindor table, piercing them with the most scornful look imaginable. “Filthy bloodtraitors.”

James and Sirius both blew the Slytherin a kiss, extending their middle fingers as they did so.

“Well, that was strange. Didn’t think Snivilus had it in him,” Sirius remarked as the doors shut and the hall erupted into a buzz of speculation and laughter.

James, ‘busy’ cutting his sausage into bite-sized pieces, replied, “Strange indeed, Padfoot. Strange indeed.”

Lily tutted, shaking her head disapprovingly at them. “Oh, come on. You really think she bought that?”

“Evidently, she did.” James smirked.

“Yeah, Evans,” Sirius added. “What did you think happened? That we snuck into the Slytherin common room and dyed his hands green?”

“That’s exactly what I think,” Lily said, crossing her arms. “I just can’t figure out how.”

“Believe what you want, I guess.” Sirius shrugged.

“Well, personally, I wonder how Mrs. Norris is feeling about all this,” Remus added, sharing a brief glance with Sirius. His earlier frustrations seemed momentarily forgotten, replaced by a flicker of amusement.

James’ mouth dropped open.

“Remus John Lupin, you didn’t,” said Lily, gaping too.

Remus raised his hands in mock surrender. “I swear on James’ mum that I didn’t.” Emphasis on I. Across the table, Sirius fought back a smile, poorly disguising it with a swipe at his mouth.

The hall was beginning to empty, the scrape of benches filling the air as students drifted reluctantly toward their first classes. Lily stood, flipping her flaming hair over her shoulder with a sharp motion.

“You’re not off the hook,” she said pointedly, her gaze cutting to Sirius and Remus. “But I’ve got to go.”

James was on his feet in an instant. “I’ll come with you!”

Lily frowned, as if weighing the merits of his offer, before sighing. “Yes, alright. Come along, Potter.”

With a cheeky wink aimed at the three Marauders still seated, James trailed after her, his usual skip in his step.

Remus shook his head at his hopeless friend.

Receiving a nudge to the elbow, he turned his attention back to his guests from Ravenclaw; he’d almost forgotten they were there. “I have to say, I’m impressed,” Simon said with a grin.

“Whatever do you mean?” Remus smirked, sticking to his innocent act. He pushed his empty plate aside and drained his teacup, ensuring he didn’t miss a single drop.

“Don’t look so shocked, Simon,” Sirius interjected. “Our Moony here’s much more than just a Charms expert, don’t you know.” He’d disguised it as a joke but his displeasure was apparent in the deep frown that had returned to his face.

Remus suppressed a sigh.

Simon only laughed. “I’m sure that’s true.”

“Have you ever done a prank?”

“Once or twice on my brothers back home. When I was younger, that is,” Simon shrugged.

“Oh, perfect. So you’ll fit right in then,” Sirius said. His tone was casual enough, but there was a sharpness beneath it that belied the words.

Remus aimed a sharp kick under the table. When Sirius flinched, he widened his eyes in pointed warning. Sirius just tilted his head, feigning obliviousness.

Fer was watching the exchange with a curious tilt of her head, her dark hair coiled around one finger. Leaning closer to Simon, she murmured something softly in Spanish: “Creo que tiene celos.”

Simon chewed his lip, seeming to understand what she was saying. “Yeah. Not a good sign.”

“A ver.”

Sirius arched a brow, his grey eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Got something you’d like to share with the class?”

Fer shrugged, her smile faint but mischievous. “Just thinking out loud. You’re a funny lot. It’s like watching a play or something.”

“What kind of play?” Peter joined in, amused.

Fer pretended to ponder. “Hmm… drama-comedy? Have any of you ever dated?”

Remus felt a spike of unease. He didn’t like where this was going.

“Sirius and I have,” Mary piped up, abandoning her breakfast to slide down the bench toward them, always keen for a bit of gossip—even if it was about herself.

“Right, I remember the whole girlfriend proposal,” Simon said. His arm brushed Remus’ casually above the table as Remus recalled a different meal, ruined as soon as Sirius had climbed onto the table and cleared his throat.

“Oh yes, that was very sweet,” Fer commented.

Sirius’ reply didn’t come immediately, but the crease in his brow deepened. His gaze fixed on the point where Simon’s arm rested against Remus’.

Remus felt a flutter of something—traitorous and infuriating—stir in his stomach. He cursed himself, knowing it wasn’t from Simon’s touch.

Pulling his gaze away at last, Sirius’ face broke out into a startling grin and he winked playfully at Mary. “Yep. We were just so adorable, weren’t we?”

“Oh, absolutely. The sweetest,” Mary pretended to gush, clapping her hands together. “You even walked me to class that one time!”

“Ha, okay. Not so much then…” Fer laughed. 

Mary grinned. “We just work better as friends. Don’t we, Black.”

“Yeah,” Sirius nodded slowly in agreement. Inexplicably, his eyes flicked back to Remus, lingering long enough to stir a fresh wave of butterflies.

For a moment, Remus thought he saw something in Sirius’ gaze—an echo of similar words spoken weeks before. Friendship and boundaries. The soft brush of lips that had contradicted all of it.

Then Sirius blinked, the moment slipping away, and Remus was left wondering, once again, if he’d imagined it all.

Notes:

HELLO HI HOLA

CÓMO ESTAMOS?
HOW ARE WE

woww, if you've been here a while and are still reading this I am impressed

but fear not, the wait is nearly over (partially)!! if that wasn't evident by the horribly, never ending tension

anyway, hope you enjoyed xx

Chapter 33: prove it

Summary:

sirius "proves" he's over moony

Notes:

I officially request that the two people who know me and are reading this please stop now bahahahhaha (I’m joking, kind of).

Alright, everyone else, let’s get on with it ;)

You say we're just friends but I swear when nobody's around

You keep my hand around your neck, we connect, are you feeling it now?

'Cause I am

I got so high the other night, I swear to God, I felt my feet leave the ground

Your back against the wall, this is all we've been talkin' about

In my ears

Nothin' feels better than this

~Khalid (Better)

 

When Charms let out, Remus packed up his things slowly, amidst the usual chaos that ensued after the last class of the day. He liked to ensure his books were kept in order, prioritised and ready for that evening’s readings. It made him feel more in control.

As always, he was aware of Sirius waiting for him at the back of the room, arms crossed, as the rest of the class filed out, chattering loudly. Holding back a grimace, he turned to Simon, who lingered at their desk, fiddling with the zipper of his backpack.

"See you later, then?" Remus asked, hoping to avoid Sirius' inevitable grumpiness—a recurring theme where his Charms partner was concerned.

"Actually," Simon said, glancing briefly toward the door—toward Sirius—"can I talk to you? In private?"

Ah.

“Sure,” Remus replied, reluctantly. He gestured vaguely toward Sirius. “I better…”

"Yeah, yeah, go ahead," Simon said, nodding.

Leaving his rucksack on the chair, Remus shuffled awkwardly toward Sirius, already bracing for whatever patience this would require. As predicted, Sirius pushed off the wall, wearing an unfriendly scowl.

Honestly, what was the point of all this?

"You go ahead, yeah?" Remus began, swinging his arms in a weak attempt at nonchalance. "I just have to talk to Simon for a second."

Sirius arched a brow. "Why?"

"Not sure. Shouldn’t take long, though."

"Then I might as well wait, no?"

"Erm, I think he wanted to talk in private... but I’ll meet you back in the common room?"

Sirius’ eyes flicked between Remus and Simon, hardening. He didn’t argue, though. With a stiff nod, he turned on his heel and disappeared through the doorway.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Remus spun back around to face Simon in the now-empty classroom. "What did you want to talk about?" he asked, trying not to sound as nervous as he felt.

"Okay, um," Simon began, taking a few steps closer. "Forgive my bluntness in advance. I just… I think it would be better if I knew now what to expect. Between us, I mean."

"Oh. Right," Remus said, caught off guard. He wished he’d had more time to prepare for this conversation. Of only two things, he was certain: he knew what he wanted, and he knew what he was supposed to want. They didn’t align.

“Do you get what I’m trying to say?” Simon asked hesitantly. 

Remus nodded, feeling the weight of his warm, hazel eyes. Simon looked at him with such open sincerity, as though he truly expected an honest answer, and Remus knew that if he let it, this—whatever it was—could be something equally honest.

"This is probably not what you want to hear," he said, fiddling with the cuffs of his uniform. "But—right now, at least—I don’t think I’m really in the best place for something serious."

Oh, wow. Bad choice of words.

There was also the small matter of his "furry little problem," which would never stop impeding him or his relationships. He couldn’t imagine many people fancied having a werewolf for a boyfriend. 

Perhaps honesty had been a bit premature.

"Yeah, I thought you might say that," Simon said, nodding in understanding.

"Sorry," Remus blurted out.

"No, it’s okay. I can’t say that I am either," Simon told him. "I just prefer to know how much to invest in something beforehand. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, I think I get that."

Simon smiled and placed a gentle hand on Remus’ shoulder. "But, do you mind me asking? Is there anything between you and Black?"

Oh.

Well, shit.

He really was that obvious, wasn’t he?

Was there anything between them? Remus didn’t know if there was a straightforward answer to that question. On the one hand, yeah. Yeah, there absolutely was.

There was a certain kind of friendship you could simply call mates—just mates, full stop. No further clarification needed. But Sirius and Remus? They weren’t that. Not even close.

They’d crossed the line between platonic and… whatever else, a long time ago. There was no going back. Not really. Sometimes, Remus wondered if he’d prefer it that way—if it would be easier to have never known what it was like to be with him. To never know how intoxicating, how mind-bogglingly good it could be.

Yeah, that wasn’t nothing. Not to Remus anyway.

On the other hand, they had made clarifications. 

“Look, don’t overthink it. Clearly there is,” Simon said with a patient smile. “It’s okay.”

“Er, yeah, I won’t lie—that would obviously be a waste of time,” Remus laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “There was something between us. But it’s—it was nothing… significant.”

“Why do you say that?” Simon asked.

“What do you mean?”

"I don’t know. It just doesn’t really seem that way to me."

Remus stared at him. "What gave you that impression?"

Simon released a strange laugh, running a hand through his hair. He glanced away toward the windows, his freckled nose scrunching up as he seemed to consider what to say.

“Well, um. How do I put this?” he said, clasping his hands together. “Sirius doesn’t like me very much, does he?”

Remus let out a startled laugh. “No, I don’t think he does.”

Simon gave a knowing nod. “Yeah.”

“But he’s just like that sometimes,” Remus said quickly, feeling the need to clarify. It really wasn’t as meaningful as Simon seemed to think.

“If you say so.”

Remus didn’t know how to respond to that. Biting his lip, he buried his hands deeper into his pockets. “So…”

Simon smiled again. “So you can relax now that that’s out of the way.”

Remus consciously loosened his shoulders, realising how tense they’d been. "Sorry," he apologised. "Are you sure—"

"Yes, I’m sure, Remus. And no need to apologise," Simon said firmly.

"Okay…”

Maybe this was a mistake. 

“Hey.” Simon leaned in suddenly, placing a hand on the desk beside him, and kissed him on the cheek, just shy of the corner of his mouth. "I like you," he said softly.

When Simon tried to pull back, Remus stopped him. Cupping the curve of his jaw gently, he summoned his courage and pulled him back in, kissing him directly on the lips.

The kiss was soft and sweet. He tasted like spearmint. 

It was nice. It was really nice.

The problem was, once you’d tasted fire on your tongue, spearmint didn’t quite compare.

****

They’d received more than a few congratulations on their victory against Snape, as well as plenty of compliments on their skills as stylists. Remus had been a bit worried their achievement wouldn’t be recognised, considering the blame had been placed elsewhere, but it turned out their fellow Gryffindors knew them better than he’d thought. That, and word seemed to have spread beyond their group, carried by the girls who clearly weren’t bothered with denial on their behalf. The four Marauders basked in the praise, despite Lily’s reprimands that it wasn’t something for which they should feel proud.

Still, Remus went to bed that evening conflicted over other events of the day—not that that was anything new. He knew he’d made the right choice with Simon. A relationship—even a hypothetical one—required effort and dedication. It required giving oneself over to another person without reservations. And that wasn’t something Remus could do. Not when Sirius had so much of him already.

At the same time, it felt wrong to continue anything with Simon when he was so obviously unavailable.

Still, he told himself he deserved some fun. Hadn’t he yearned without reprieve for long enough?

Well, not that kissing Simon had eased the yearning. If anything, it made him think about Sirius even more—if that was possible.

Like what might’ve happened if they hadn’t been walked in on in the broom cupboard.

Or what might still happen if he went to Sirius’ bed...

“Psst. Moony.”

Remus shot up in bed. He’d been so lost in the fantasy he hadn’t noticed the warning creaks of footsteps that should’ve alerted him to Sirius’ presence. Flattening his hair and forcing cooling thoughts—penguins, his father’s death, swimming in the Black Lake in winter—he said, “Sirius?”

“It’s me,” Sirius whispered from the other side of the curtain. “Can I come in?”

Still half-convinced he was dreaming, Remus pulled back the curtain to find Sirius standing there in plaid pyjamas, damp hair hanging loosely around his shoulders. Without a word, Sirius climbed onto the bed. Remus shifted quickly to make space, sliding to the edge and lying on his side.

“What’s up?” he asked as Sirius murmured a silencing spell and settled in, mirroring his position.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Sirius said, his eyes bright despite the darkness. He was clearly restless. “Thought maybe you couldn’t either.”

Remus shook his head. “Nope.”

Sirius snuggled into the blankets with a contented hum, and Remus suddenly had the ridiculous urge to yell, OH MY GOD, YOU’RE SO DAMN CUTE! He refrained.

“Got a lot going on up here?” Sirius asked, gesturing towards Remus’ head, his finger stopping short of touching his temple.

“Yeah, kind of.”

“Anything I can help with?”

Remus nearly laughed. “No.”

Sirius furrowed his brows, looking up at him with the most innocent, puppyish eyes Remus had ever seen. “Why do you sound so sure?”

Digging his nails into his palm, Remus shrugged. “Some things have to be dealt with alone.”

The confusion in Sirius’ face faded, replaced by something like recognition. “I suppose that’s true.”

Remus hummed in response.

“Wish it weren’t, though,” Sirius said softly.

Every fibre of Remus’ being cried out in agreement. Instead of letting it show, he asked, “Don’t you share everything with Prongs?”

Honestly, he was surprised Sirius had chosen to come to him.

The small, cruel voice in his head added, You know it’s only because James is asleep, right? He doesn’t really want you.

But Sirius shook his head. “Not everything,” he said quietly—deliberately.

Their gazes locked like magnets. This time, Remus didn’t have to guess; he knew they were thinking the same thing.

The loud thump of his heart echoed in his ears, building, building, building until—

He looked away.

Of course Sirius hadn’t told James about that. It didn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean their secret was something special—that Remus was special. Only that Sirius was ashamed—that he would take Remus, and whatever small thing he’d felt for him, to his grave.

Suddenly, Remus needed him gone. He couldn’t take it—the teasing, the smiles, the reminders of what they’d had, even if only for a fleeting moment. Sirius had come for the company of a friend. Remus couldn’t be that for him, not this late at night. These were his hours. Past midnight, his guard came down and his mind wandered. His friend Sirius couldn’t be privy to that.

The words you should go were nearly past his lips when Sirius spoke.

“It’s funny… it feels like it didn’t even happen, right?”

That stopped him in his tracks. “Feels like what didn’t happen?”

Sirius kept his focus on his hands, playing with his rings. He slid one up and down his finger, almost sensually, before moving to the next. “The concert. The train...”

Oh.

Okay. So they were doing this.

It was so far from the truth, and they both knew it. But Remus let him lie. He played along, letting whatever this was unfold the way Sirius wanted.

“Oh, yeah. I’d completely forgotten about that,” he said, hoping he sounded convincing.

“Right. Completely,” Sirius agreed, eyes still glued to his rings and the mesmerising pattern he’d created.

Remus waited with bated breath, praying he wasn’t being messed around.

That was when Sirius moved beyond words.

“Like I could do this…” He reached out and patted Remus’ shoulder. Friendly enough. “Without thinking about it at all.”

“Yeah?” Remus asked, keeping perfectly still as Sirius let his hand fall, his fingers grazing briefly down his arm.

“Yeah.”

Their eyes met. Something fiery, untamed, crackled in the space between them.

“What about if I did this?” Remus asked, steeling himself as he reached out, running his fingers through Sirius’ soft, half-dry hair and ruffling it lightly. Sirius melted into the pillow, his lips twitching into a sheepish smile.

“It makes me want to turn into Padfoot,” he said.

“Well, good. Nothing to worry about, then.”

“What about you?” Sirius asked, his voice dropping an octave.

“What about me?”

“Do you...” He leaned forward, a faint smirk curling his lips. “Feel anything?”

Dear God, Remus thought. This was going to require a lot of restraint. And he’d just been complaining about the teasing.

“Right now, no,” he said.

“Okay. Good.”

Nerves jittering and not wanting to let it show, Remus shifted to make himself more comfortable. His knee brushed against Sirius’.

Glancing up, he found Sirius watching him intently, lips slightly parted. “See? Proof,” Remus told him, the reaction lending him some confidence.

“Proof,” Sirius repeated, like he was tasting the word. He tilted his head, as if weighing its validity. “I don’t know if it’s strong enough, though.”

Heart skipping a beat, Remus pretended to concede. “You’re probably right,” he said, his tone almost comically casual, like he was floating around an idea he didn’t quite believe in.

If Sirius was searching for loopholes, Remus was right there with him. Happily.

But he was also going to make him suffer.

Sirius’ leg pressed more firmly into Remus’, his foot brushing lightly against his under the quilt at the bed’s edge. “I can do this, and it’s fine,” he said casually.

“Yeah? And this.” Remus slid his leg between Sirius’, savouring the widening of his eyes.

“Right. Like, I—” Sirius sucked in a sharp breath as his leg climbed higher. “I bet you could do anything and it wouldn't affect me.”

“Anything?”

Sirius swallowed, the motion betraying him as he nodded. “We could see… test it out. Just to make sure. To prove we’re past it, you know.”

“That’s true,” Remus agreed as Sirius inched closer, cautiously, as if they were lying on a bed of explosives—one wrong move and the whole thing would blow.

What to do with you…

He went straight for the throat. Literally. 

Sirius’ eyes widened further as Remus leaned in, snaking an arm around his waist. “You let me know if we have something to worry about, okay?”

Sirius nodded, tilting his head slightly, gazing at him through half-lidded eyes.

Slowly, painstakingly, Remus lowered his lips, hovering just over the pale expanse of Sirius’ neck. The scent of his skin was intoxicating, heady, making his pulse race. 'How’s this?' he breathed, low and deliberate.

“Fine,” Sirius said faintly, his arms erupting in goosebumps.

“Are you sure?” he asked, skeptically.

“Yeah. Keep—keep going.”

Suppressing a grin, Remus brushed his lips along Sirius’ collarbone, not quite a kiss but enough to feel him shiver. He let his lips trail up along his neck, light as a feather.

Sirius remained very still.

Finally, Remus pressed his lips to his skin. Once. Twice. Three times. “What about now?”

“…Yeah.”

“Yeah what?”

“Yeah, it’s… fine. Don’t feel anything,” Sirius said, his voice strained.

Well, if he wanted to be sure… 

Without warning, Remus bit down, his teeth scraping along the tender skin below Sirius’ jaw as he kissed him hard.

A barely audible whine left Sirius’ lips. Remus pulled back. “What was that?”

“Nothing! I didn’t say anything,” Sirius swore, something like panic flickering across his features.

“No?”

“No.”

“So we’re in the clear?”

“Yeah, but we should probably… test it further, just in case.” 

“Did you—?”

But Sirius interrupted him, gripping the back of his neck and cutting off his words with an abrupt, searing kiss.

And God, for all the fun teasing Sirius was, giving in was so much better.

He’d thought he’d etched the feeling of Sirius’ mouth into his memory, but the first few spine-tingling brushes of their lips proved him so completely wrong. It was like every cell in his body had been dormant, desensitised to the highs and falls of life, waiting for something to reignite him—and then, like a match to gasoline, he’d gone up in flames.

At once, it became a frantic scrabble for more, more, more. To be closer. To kiss deeper. To touch without restraint.

Sirius’ mouth was hot, electric, and Remus tangled a hand in his hair, pulling him closer, still holding tight to his waist. Sirius matched him with fervor, fingers digging into the back of his neck like he couldn’t get enough, like they were running out of time, like the world was burning around them, cracking and crumbling—and they were determined to burn with it.

Remus was high on the sensation, on the sheer, maddening force of him, here, now. Screw drugs. He didn’t need them. Just this. Only this.

When they finally broke apart for air, his head was spinning. They clung to each other, gasping like they’d gone years without breath, like they’d been drowning and had finally breached the surface.

If this was drowning, Remus thought, then so be it. Let him drown. The withdrawal would kill him anyway.

He leaned forward, brushing soft kisses to Sirius’ cheek, the corner of his mouth, his red, swollen lips. Sirius didn’t stop him.

Then the beautiful, infuriating boy opened his mouth.  “Nothing,” he breathed, even as the way their bodies pressed together contradicted him so spectacularly. “Felt—nothing.”

Something inside Remus snapped.

“I don’t buy it,” he growled, punctuating the words with a purposeful roll of his hips.

Sirius’ body reacted instinctively, arching against him, and Remus fought to keep his focus despite the heat surging through him.

“What?” Sirius looked up at him through fluttering lashes, as if he didn’t quite understand what Remus had said. 

“I don’t buy it,” he repeated, his fingers tracing the waistband of Sirius’ pyjama bottoms.

Sirius’ eyes darkened, sharp and daring. “Want to bet?”

Oh yes. Yes, he did. 

“How will I know you’re not lying?”

“Okay…” Sirius hesitated, blinking rapidly as if to clear his thoughts. “Okay, how about this? If either of us makes any—sound, then it’s game over. That’s how we’ll know.”

“Okay,” Remus agreed. He didn’t have much faith in himself, not where Sirius was involved, but he was in no position to say no. “What happens then?”

“Then… well, I suppose we’ll have to stop, won’t we?”

Oh, this was dangerous. So very dangerous. Remus was quite sure he’d die if they stopped.

“If you say so,” he murmured as Sirius kissed him again, their mouths colliding with the kind of desperate intensity he felt in his bones.

He would not give in, he told himself, even as Sirius climbed onto his lap and set his resolve ablaze. He wouldn’t lose. Sirius would admit defeat—he would admit he felt something.

“And now?” Remus gasped against Sirius’ mouth, his hands gripping his thighs, so far gone he could barely think. 

“Still…” Sirius rocked against him, his voice faltering. “Noth—oh, fuck.”

But they both seemed to have forgotten the rules because neither of them stopped. 

Denial, after that, was pointless.

Notes:

Sooooooo YEAHH

HAPPY BDAY MOONY, MI AMORCITO come home the kids miss u

You gotta love him, don’t cha? He was NOT having it. Sirius was fucked from the start (yeah, that was purposeful).

Anyway, thanks so much for all the nice comments, they’re super motivating!! I definitely wouldn’t have gotten this far without them <333

Chapter 34: what is patience?

Summary:

james makes a discovery; sirius feels violated

Our secret moments in a crowded room

They got no idea about me and you

There is an indentation in the shape of you

Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo

~Taylor Swift (Dress)

 

Sirius was used to waking up with his mind and body already having betrayed him. There wasn’t much you could do when your unconscious knew you so well—when you dreamt of things your waking self would never dare. It was frustrating, more than a little embarrassing, but Sirius had resigned himself to it. That was just life. But when he woke the next morning with a boy on his mind and a flutter in his chest, he didn’t have the heart to be upset about it. The only thing he regretted was not still being in said boy’s bed.

However, that moment of wistful indulgence was swiftly shattered as his curtains were ripped open, and he came face to face with his energetic, glasses-wearing best friend.

“GOOD MORNING, SUNSHI—oh, hello there,” James cut himself off, a devious smirk curling across his face as he took in Sirius’ half-asleep state.

Sirius blinked, disoriented, before noticing James’ gaze zeroing in on him.

“Whenever did you find the time to get that? You sneaky bastard!”

“What—?” Sirius mumbled, still groggy as James leapt onto the end of his mattress, nearly crushing his legs.

“Yep, as I suspected,” he confirmed, leaning in with mock solemnity.

“For the love of Merlin, what?” Sirius demanded, losing his patience.

Peter, who had just poked his head around the corner, snorted with laughter. “You’ve got a love bite, mate.”

“What?!” Sirius yelped, scrambling upright. “No, I don’t.”

Fuck.

“‘Fraid you do.”

The bathroom door opened then, and Sirius’ heart stuttered as Remus stepped into the room, hair still damp, a threadbare towel slung low around his waist.

“Oh, Moony!” James called gleefully. “Come take a look at what Sirius’ new conquest did to him.”

Sirius wished the floor would swallow him whole as Remus’ eyes drifted lazily over to him, pausing on the side of his neck, just below his jaw.

“They’re right, mate,” he said, his lips quirking into an infuriatingly smug half-smile, not an ounce of regret in sight. “You’ve got a love bite.”

“Fuck you,” Sirius hissed, though the words came out more breathless than scathing. “Fuck all of you. You’re just jealous.”

He was acutely aware of the fact that Moony had exactly no clothes on—besides the towel, which really wasn’t enough to keep his imagination in check. He couldn’t stop his gaze from wandering, tracing the toned lines of Remus’ stomach, the freckles, the faint scar that disappeared beneath the towel…

“I just hope whoever it was got one in return,” Peter said, cutting through Sirius’ increasingly inappropriate thoughts. “Heaven forbid you leave the girl unsatisfied.”

“Hey, nothing has been confirmed or denied!” Sirius snapped weakly. He resisted the urge to press a cooling hand to his feverishly warm cheeks. “Now, unless you’d like to watch, can you all please leave so I can get dressed?”

They dispersed at last, though not before Sirius caught the suggestive arch of Remus’ eyebrows as he turned away.

Yanking his curtains shut, Sirius flopped face-down onto his pillow.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

How was he going to survive this? He was a terrible actor—never had been able to hide his feelings well. His mother had always seen straight through him, even without the mind tricks.

Sirius scrubbed a fist over his eyelids to shut out the images that followed that line of thinking.

You are tainted.

He was working on it. He was trying. But it was so bloody hard. 

Sirius doubted his mother would be a huge fan of this new strategy—give in and hope at some point he became satiated—but he’d exhausted every other option, and they’d done shit all for him.

So, yeah. Acting. He was going to have to work on that as well. Because how was he supposed to pretend? Not just with Moony, but with James, Peter—all of them? How was he supposed to—good God—how would he keep his hands off him?

Last night—Merlin, last night—no, no, he couldn’t go there. Not now.

Sirius had spent far too long afterward staring at the ceiling in a stunned daze, his bare leg pressed against Remus’, stuck somewhere between blissed out and mortified. Words had completely abandoned him, and yet he had been painfully aware that the longer the silence stretched on, the harder it would be to break.

“So we can be friends and do this…” he had said—asked, the words teetering uncertainly in the space between them.

Remus shifted then, pulling away until they were no longer touching at all, and Sirius’ stomach plummeted. Panic climbed up his throat as he braced himself for Moony to tell him it had been a mistake.

But then Remus spoke. “Yeah,” he said, his tone light, almost casual. “It’s not like it changes anything.”

“Exactly,” Sirius replied, trying not to sound too eager. “The damage has already been done, so we might as well…” he trailed off.

It could just be a little something extra. Something just for them.

Their secret. 

“Right,” Remus agreed quickly. “No point in turning back now.”

Sirius could have wept with relief—even as they both continued to stare at the ceiling, not daring to meet the other’s eyes.

Finally, not wanting to overstay his welcome, Sirius pushed himself into a sitting position, retrieving his pants and pyjama bottoms—his shirt was nowhere to be found—and pulled them on with his back to Remus. Half-dressed, he hesitated, feet dangling over the edge of the bed.

A hand brushed his arm.

Startled, he turned. Warm brown eyes met his—searching, they pinned him in place.

“Not so fast,” Remus murmured. “I think you have something to admit, don’t you?”

He froze. “What’s that?”

Moony’s gaze, at first unreadable, flickered.  “You lost.”

Huh?

“You lost,” Remus repeated when he didn’t answer, that mischievous glint in his eye shining full-force now. “You did feel something.”

Oh. That.

“No, I didn’t,” Sirius denied immediately. “You lost.”

“Me?” Remus laughed, disbelieving. “I did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Yes, you did.” Sirius turned to fully face him, a strange warmth bubbling in his chest, joy spreading like liquid gold as Remus’ composure began to falter.

“No, when we—when you were—” Remus stumbled, his cheeks flushing a surprising shade of pink. Sirius, unable to help himself, let out an undignified giggle.

Remus’ face broke into a grin, one he tried (and failed) to bite back. “I asked you if you felt anything and you—mmph—”

Sirius clamped a hand over Remus’ mouth, cutting him off. “Okay, okay! Godric! I remember.” Now it was his turn to blush.

Remus’ eyes crinkled in amusement, and Sirius felt the faint curve of a smile beneath his palm. Balanced above him in the dim light, the blanket that Remus had pulled over himself the only barrier between them, Sirius was struck by the overwhelming urge to kiss him again.

Really? He thought distantly, as he licked his lips, watching the amusement fade from Moony’s eyes. Had that not been enough?

Remus’ fingers curled around his wrist, gently lowering his hand from his mouth.

“So… what do you have to say?”

“What?” Sirius breathed. He imagined leaning forward, closing the space between them—biting Moony’s bottom lip and—

“Try to remember,” Remus prompted.

Something clicked in his brain then, like headlights turning on, illuminating faintly through the foggy haze.

“You won,” he admitted. “I… felt something.”

Gods, if he only knew how much.

“Good boy,” Remus grinned, satisfied. “See, that wasn’t so hard.”

Oh.

Well. Um. Okay. Merlin.

“I—”

Remus was looking at him curiously now, a slow smirk tugging at his lips.

“I’m just gonna—” Sirius mumbled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder as he stumbled rather gracelessly through the bed curtains.

“Goodnight, Sirius,” Remus called faintly after him.

Sirius swore he could hear him laughing as he scrambled away.

****

“You know, Lily probably knows a spell for that,” said James as Sirius fretted in front of the mirror, tugging his hair this way and that.

Remus leaned casually against the doorframe, watching as Sirius paused to examine the mark on the side of his neck, his fingers halting their careful movements.

“Lily, eh?” Sirius said, his eyes catching Remus’ through the mirror. “Since when are you two on a first-name basis?”

James shrugged. “Didn’t you know? She can tolerate me now.”

“Now that, my dear Prongsie, is an incredible feat.”

“Don’t I know it.”

“Can we go now? I’m starving,” said Peter, clutching his stomach with a dramatic groan.

Remus patted him on the shoulder, in complete agreement. “I feel your pain, Pete.”

“I’m surprised lover boy over there isn’t desperate for food as well,” Peter said, elbowing Remus with a snicker. “Considering the activities he’s been up to.”

Remus snorted.

Sirius whipped around, his hair fanning out around him as he turned. “Excuse me! You watch your mouth, Wormtail,” he said, pointing an accusing finger.

This only made Peter laugh harder, and Remus joined in easily. He was finding this whole situation rather enjoyable.

“Besides,” Sirius added, glaring pointedly at him. “If I can manage not to starve, you poor sods who haven’t gotten any should quit complaining.”

“Well, personally, I think I get a pass on that logic,” Remus countered.

Sirius stiffened slightly, eyes narrowing. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Oh, you know, just this thing that happens to me sometimes. Once a month, actually. Makes me go a bit mental for a day or two. Gives me the appetite of a small family.”

“Hah—right,” Sirius chuckled, relaxing.

“I think the expression you’re looking for is ‘you could eat a small family,’” James interjected cheerfully.

“That,” Remus said, snapping his fingers. He shot Sirius a smile that was far too innocent—as if he didn’t know exactly what had caused the hesitation. “Don’t worry, Padfoot. You’d know if I’d gotten with someone.”

“Praise the lord,” James announced, throwing an arm around Sirius’ neck and ruffling his hair. Sirius yelped in protest.

“Alright, let’s get cracking.”

“Not now, we can’t!” Sirius moaned, reaching up to smooth his hair frantically. “You just ruined all my hard work!”

“Don’t fret,” James said, giving Sirius a little shove toward the door. “I’m sure whoever you’re trying to impress will love you just as you are.”

“Wellll,” Peter drawled, voice climbing with skepticism. “That might be a stretch.”

“Shove off!” Sirius groaned.

Remus followed closely behind him on the stairs. Halfway down, James stopped abruptly, nearly causing a domino effect as he began rummaging through his pockets (forgetting his wand had become something of a habit lately).

Seeing his chance, Remus reached out, heart pounding. The tip of his pinky just barely grazed the back of Sirius’ hand.

Sirius went rigid, straight as a rod.

He snatched his hand back at once.

“Ah-ha!” James spun around, and for one breathless moment, Remus thought they’d been caught. But then he spotted the wand James was brandishing with a triumphant grin, thoroughly pleased with himself.

Right.

Remus kept to himself the rest of the way down, focusing on thoughts of eggs and bacon. By the time they reached the breakfast table, his stomach was well and truly growling. He devoured his food like a man starving while Sirius endured another round of ‘harassment’ (Padfoot, you’ll be fine) from the girls over his love bite.

It wasn’t unusual for Sirius to show up sporting evidence of his ‘encounters,’ and, as always, no one missed a chance to take the piss out of him.

This time, though, Remus found himself enjoying it far more than usual. That is, when he wasn’t marvelling over the fact that he was the one who’d given it to him.

He hadn’t intended on leaving such damning evidence. Though, given how things had gone the night before, he supposed it wasn’t surprising. But now, with it out there in the open, staring back at him like some sort of bizarre torture, Remus was finding it increasingly difficult to focus.

All he really wanted to do was drag Sirius into the nearest broom cupboard and give him another.

“I know a spell for that, you know,” Lily was saying knowledgeably—just as James had predicted. “If you want it gone, that is.”

Something snagged on the wiring in Remus’ brain, pulling him from his decidedly unbreakfast-friendly thoughts.

“Hang on,” he said, turning to Lily with sudden interest. “How do you know a spell for that?”

Lily flushed, her cheeks nearly matching the shade of her hair. “Because I know things,” she said evasively.

James froze, fork halfway to his mouth, suddenly alert.

Remus’ eyes widened. “You…”

But Lily shook her head, green eyes pleading.

“Evans! Who’s the lucky man?” Sirius asked with a smirk, completely unaware of the silent exchange.

Thinking fast, Remus leaned toward Sirius, lowering his voice as his foot found his under the table.

“Sirius.”

The smirk slipped from his face. “Yeah?”

“Do you remember that thing I said to you last night?”

Glass having just barely touched his lips, Sirius choked on his orange juice.

Remus felt a wave of satisfaction rush over him.

”Uhh,” Sirius coughed, eyes watering slightly. “What thing?”

Remus gave a brief pause, letting the possibilities hang in the air. He brushed his leg casually against Sirius’—so casually it could have been an accident. “How I said… that I’d never listen to another Elton John record?”

Sirius blinked at him, clearly trying to compute. “Oh,” he finally managed. “Yeah, I’ve never understood why you don’t like him.”

“Yeah, I—” Remus scrambled for something to say—he hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I’ve changed my mind.”

“Right,” Sirius said with a strained laugh. “Well… glad to hear it.”

When Remus leaned away, both Marlene and Lily were watching them curiously. Lily flashed him a grateful smile, which he returned. Marlene, on the other hand, had her eyes narrowed, flicking back and forth between him and Sirius with keen interest.

Shit. He was supposed to be upset about this. Sirius had gotten with someone, and Remus should have been upset. Upset, but also like he was trying to hide that fact.

He settled for a subtle grimace.

This was going to take some getting used to—if it became a regular occurrence, that was. And if Remus had anything to say about it, it would.

He still couldn’t quite believe it had happened in the first place. More so, he couldn’t understand how much Sirius had seemed to—want him. Even if that wanting had been hidden by the cover of night. 

Whether Sirius felt the same in the harsh light of the day was another matter entirely.

Was he regretting it? Worse, were Remus’ teasing and not-so-subtle jokes making him uncomfortable? The thought made his stomach twist. He couldn’t bear to become that person—so desperate to be wanted that he’d ignore the signs, obliviously pushing past rejection.

He knew he’d been friend-zoned. He knew that. He understood that Sirius still didn’t want it to mean anything. He wasn’t stupid. 

But what did friends mean, exactly? 

Friends: people who left you questioning everything and everyone, who made you question to the point of changing your beliefs on the way the world worked. People who made you wonder how far you’d bend your morals to keep them? 

Did they want you like a best friend? Did they want you like a lover? Did they secretly fantasize about doing you in? That was the great mystery of it all—it was impossible to tell.

Remus figured his guess was as good as anyone’s.

****

Sirius had never been a very patient person. His governess used to call him her little hummingbird, flitting between tasks like flowers, physically incapable of staying still. 

“Sirius, dear,” she’d say in her sweet, Italian lilt. “Your heart doesn’t need to beat so fast.”

She had been patient, more than he deserved. Needless to say, she hadn’t lasted long. She’d been replaced by others, none of whom could tolerate him. Sirius had endured many a painful day, made to sit at his desk without moving so much as an inch.

None of that compared to what he was experiencing now though; waiting to get Moony alone was downright excruciating. 

He slouched in his chair, bouncing his leg as he stared into the flickering flames of the fireplace, fighting with every muscle in his body to keep his eyes off Remus. He wracked his brain for any excuse—any half-sensical reason—for why he and Moony might need to abandon their friends, but came up empty.

Remus was stretched out on the couch on the other side of the circle, so untouchable he might as well have been a ghost. He had one arm folded behind his head and a foot propped on the coffee table, a book open in his hand. Sirius supposed there was one thing to be grateful for: the jumper Remus was wearing—a bulky green one he favoured on quiet, obligation-free days—did nothing for his form, obscuring the way his shoulder muscles must have been tensing beneath the fabric, strong enough to pick Sirius up and—(okay, not helping).

The worst part was how calm Remus seemed. No restless shifting, no telltale furrow in his brow. He was unreadable, a bloody enigma. Meanwhile, Sirius had never felt so pent-up. It was concerning, truly, the amount of energy he had. The things he wanted to—

He jumped to his feet. Running his hands through his hair and pressing his temples between his palms, he spun slowly on the spot, trying to decide where to go from there.

“You alright there, Black? You look a bit…” Marlene gestured vaguely, as though words couldn’t capture his manic state.

“Fine, McKinnon. Just fine.”

Remus was asleep—asleep!—on the couch, his head sliding slowly down the pillow. Sirius stared, trying not to fidget. He would not—could not—adjust it for him.

“I’m going to the pitch,” he declared suddenly, ripping his gaze away and striding toward the portrait hole.

“I’ll come with you!” James said at once, scrambling to follow.

Oh, how Sirius wished those words had come from a different mouth. The things that mouth could do—well, Sirius was certain he only knew the half of it...

Yeah, maybe it was a good idea he wouldn’t be alone to dwell on it. On the other hand, the entire day could turn very awkward very quickly if he didn’t get a hold of himself.

“What’s got you so tense?” James asked later as they trudged back to the castle, brooms in hand. The wind whipped through the grounds, and Sirius got a mouthful of damp hair as he opened his mouth to answer.

“Agh—bloody hair—” He spat it out in frustration, cutting himself off. “I don’t know. Nothing, really,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, no one’s going to believe that,” James said flatly.

Sirius groaned. “I’m just—a bit frustrated,” he admitted.

James snickered. “Wow, this new chick’s really got you wound up, eh?”

Sirius’ heart sank. Again. Why did it have to be him? Him, of all people? “Something like that,” he replied glumly.

“Is she holding out on you?”

He paused. “…I mean, no.”

“Well, I never. Padfoot, you dirty slag.”

Sirius shoved the self-deprecating thoughts aside—they certainly weren’t helping matters—and threw a rough punch to James’ shoulder instead.

This quickly evolved into a scuffle, ending only when Sirius leapt onto James’ back, kicking his legs until his foot caught something wooden.

“No, wait, my broom!” James cried.

“Which one?” Sirius smirked, hopping off.

James retaliated with a wet lick to his palm, forcing Sirius to stumble back in horror. “Ach, gross!”

“Merlin, your mind really is in the gutter today,” James laughed.

Sirius only waggled his eyebrows in response.

“Care to share who’s got you so hot and bothered?” James pressed.

“Nah, I think I’ll keep them to myself, thanks.”

James tutted. “What are you waiting for, then? Go find them and give them a snog for me.”

“I’m not going to give them a snog for you.”

James threw his arms up in exaggerated exasperation, his broom nearly slipping from his grip. “Just give them a snog, then!”

“You know, I might just,” Sirius shot back, quickening his stride toward the castle doors.

James, of course, matched his pace effortlessly, pointing a stern finger at him. “But think of me while you’re at it!”

Sirius gagged loudly. “I sincerely hope I don’t.”

“I’m always watching, Padfoot.”

“Oh yeah?” Sirius challenged. “Then who gave me the love bite?”

James faltered, his confident smirk replaced by a sheepish huff. “You got me there.”

Sirius grinned, triumphant. “Ah, you don’t know them anyway,” he said, brushing the subject off as casually as he could.

“How do you know that? I know everyone,” James replied, puffing up his chest as though his extensive social knowledge were a badge of honour.

“You do not.”

“Do too.”

“Alright, let me rephrase.” Sirius paused at the base of the next staircase, turning to fix James with an unimpressed stare. “You won’t be able to guess who it is.”

James grinned like he knew something Sirius didn’t. “What will you give me if I get it right?”

Sirius scoffed. “Uh, nothing?”

“Fine, but if I do guess it, will you tell me then?”

Sirius didn’t respond, his silence deliberate as he started up the steps.

James clapped his hands together, broom hooked under his elbow. “Please? Pretty please?”

Rolling his eyes, Sirius sighed. “Fine. Yeah. Whatever.”

He was confident that would never happen.

“Besides,” Sirius added, trying again to steer the conversation in a direction he could control. He’d let this become something—like it mattered to him. He couldn’t have that. “You know me, Prongs. Can’t tie this one down. Today it’s Kim, tomorrow it’ll be Jane, the next day Martha… Gotta keep ‘em guessing, I say. What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t give everyone a chance?”

James studied him, hopefully.

“No, Prongs. It’s not Kim. I don’t even know a Kim.”

“What about that fourth year from Hufflepuff? You know, the one with the bangs?”

“Ugh, definitely not. You know I don’t date fourth years,” Sirius said, making a face as they reached the landing.

“Fine,” James replied, undeterred. “I’ll figure it out. Just you wait.”

Sirius swallowed back the knot in his throat, silently cursing himself. Why, exactly, had he let James convince him into talking about this?

You know why, whispered a small voice, poking its head out of hiding. The door’s hinges were rusty, it just barely creaked open. You want to talk about it. You’re practically bursting with the need to talk about it.

You’re wrong, Sirius thought coldly. I’ll never talk about it. Ever. Jamais.

The voice softened, certain but melancholy. That would be too bad.

It is what it is, Sirius told himself—the fragment of himself he kept locked away. Too naive to face the real world. Too weak.

Et se sentir comme ça tous les jours, est-ce que ça en vaut vraiment la peine ?

Did it matter? Either way, it was his burden to bear.

Notes:

Damn, I was so close to achieving consistency with my postings ahahh (not my strong suit, as you can probably tell).

Hope the French was accurate. Jamais is apparently a part of my vocabulary. Call me multilingual or whatever.

Anyway, hope you liked this one.

Update: thank you to NanarJ for the French corrections & inspo🙏🙏

Chapter 35: love and drugs

Summary:

they think they're sneaky. they aren't.

Notes:

umm ok apparently this fic just hit 100k words so i’m feeling slightly insane but it’s fine. everyone knows this fandom makes you go crazy. too late now right?

You got a Slurpee for free/I caught you lookin' at me

In the 7-eleven/Under fluorescent lights

We walked in comfy silence/Footsteps down familiar sidewalk

Knowin' that we were/Here in our dreams last night

All my ghosts are with me/I know you feel them too

Ridin' shotgun next to your free Slurpee

They know all of my habits/But they don't know about you

I hope that's true

~Lizzie McAlpine (all my ghosts)

 

Sirius contemplated his options as he climbed the stairs to their dormitory, trailing uncertainly after James. How desperate would he seem if he simply said it? Just marched right up to Moony, not caring who was around, and told him what he wanted.

Sirius bit back a delirious laugh as the scenario played out in his head.

He would grab him, lean in close enough to whisper, and say: “Moony, I think I might die if you don’t shag me right now, so please, let’s check that broom cupboard off your bucket list.”

Okay, maybe a bit too honest.

What about: “Moony, let’s fuck. I know you wanna.”

This time, Sirius did laugh, the sound slipping out before he could stop it. Remus would sooner throw him out the window than entertain that line.

“What’s so funny back there?” James asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“Nothing!” Sirius assured him, a little too quickly. “Just thinking.”

It turned out he hadn’t needed to.

Halfway to the dorm, they ran into Remus, his shoulders set in determination, his expression unreadable.

“Moony!” James exclaimed, coming to an abrupt halt and nearly causing Sirius to run into him.

Remus nodded in greeting. “Was thinking of heading down to the kitchens. Fancy it?”

“Nah, I’ve got prefect duties,” James said, adjusting his glasses.

“Right.” Remus nodded, his gaze drifting past James to Sirius, who lingered a step below on the stairs. “Padfoot?”

Sirius blinked, caught off guard by the directness of the question. “Yeah, I’ll come,” he said with a careless shrug. Ah, there his heart went again, trying to run away from him.

James shot him a knowing look. “I thought you were going to—”

“Oh, that?” Sirius cut him off, laughing too loudly. “Maybe later. Kinda hungry, though.”

“True. Better get your energy up,” James teased with a wink.

Sirius groaned inwardly, seized by the sudden urge to shake his friend. “Yeah, you know what,” he shoved his broom into James’ hands, hoping to end the exchange as soon as possible. “You take this since you’re already going up. Have fun with Evans.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. Winking again, James bounded up the stairs, leaving them alone in the stairwell.

Sirius exhaled, suddenly hyperaware of the quiet, of the way Remus was watching him. He’d changed his jumper, he realised. This one was decidedly better fitting…

“What was that about?” Remus asked, his eyebrow quirking in mild amusement.

“Oh, nothing,” Sirius said lightly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “He’s just being an idiot.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, when is he not?” Sirius chuckled. He took a deep breath, pretending he didn’t notice the way Remus tilted his head slightly, like he was studying him.

For a moment, they stood there, suspended in time, mirroring each other as their eyes travelled over familiar features. Sirius’ couldn’t help but linger in places they shouldn’t. The last time they’d been alone like this, Remus’ hair had been a rumpled mess. He’d also been wearing far less clothing.

Yeah… it was best to not think about that right now.

“Alright,” Remus said suddenly, clearing his throat. It sounded too loud in the silent space. “Shall we? I’m starving.”

“Yeah! Vámanos!” Sirius replied, gesturing a little too enthusiastically. He turned and started down the stairs, cringing internally.

Behind him, he thought he heard Remus chuckle softly, but he didn’t dare turn around to check.

His mind spun as they descended, his thoughts looping endlessly, round and round like one of those nauseating saucer rides they had at fairs. His uncle Alphard had taken him to one once—him and Regulus. He’d bought them cotton candy, enough to make their stomachs hurt, and had accompanied them on every ride, never complaining, even when he’d stepped off the final one a bit green around the gills.

As Sirius and Remus made their way down the many twisting staircases toward the kitchen, Sirius thought of the last time he’d seen Alphard. He’d brought a date to a family dinner—his boyfriend. Sirius would never forget the defiance in his uncle’s eyes as he’d taken the other man’s hand—fierce, almost prideful. The look he’d given Sirius before they’d left stayed burned in his memory.

Once Moony tickled the portrait of the pear, they ducked inside the kitchen. Warmth and the heavenly smell of treacle tart and pumpkin muffins enveloped them, drawing Sirius back to the present.

“Oh God, I forgot how good it smells down here,” Remus murmured, inhaling deeply.

Sirius smiled faintly, his fingers twitching with the urge to reach out and grab his hand, just to keep him close. 

He didn’t, though. Remus wasn’t a girl. And Sirius… Sirius wasn’t queer (he wasn’t, okay?!).

“What are you going to get?” he asked instead.

The full moon was approaching again, slowly but surely. If he were to guess, Moony wanted some sort of… protein.

Just then, Pinky the house-elf scurried over, big eyes blinking up at them excitedly. “Mr. Lupin, Mr. Black, what can I get you?”

“Hi, Pinky,” Remus said fondly, always a place in his heart for someone who provided food. “Do you have any steak left?”

Pinky nodded eagerly. “Of course, Mr. Lupin.”

“And I’ll just take a couple of muffins, please,” Sirius added.

“Right away, Mr. Black.”

She hurried off toward the many ovens that lined the walls, their warm glow softening the dimly lit room. Most of the remaining house-elves were busy wrapping up, the usual bustle of the kitchen winding down for the day.

They turned to each other. Moony smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you want to take the food to go? Or… shall we eat down here?”

“Oh, erm…” Sirius hesitated, picturing the dormitory. Peter, who would be returning from chess club any moment. James, who was never far…

“Let’s eat here,” Sirius blurted before he lost the nerve.

“Okay. Sure,” Remus agreed, like this was normal. Like Sirius’ stomach wasn’t swooping with butterflies.

They never ate in the kitchens.

Pulling out chairs at the small table in the corner, they made themselves comfortable. Not long after, Pinky returned, plates hovering in front of her with their requested food items. Sirius could practically see Moony salivating at the mouth as the steaming cut of steak, peppercorn sauce and all, landed in front of him. Remus thanked Pinky profusely before she exited the kitchen, leaving them alone.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, save for the occasional clink of silverware. Sirius picked apart his muffin absently, flicking crumbs onto his plate. Remus was fully absorbed in his food, cutting into his steak with a single-minded focus. Sirius didn’t blame him. The sauce did smell good.

“So,” Remus said eventually, glancing up. “What was Prongs really on about earlier?”

Sirius stiffened mid-motion. “What?”

Bullocks. He’d thought he’d gotten away with that.

Remus smirked, still chewing. “You know. That whole thing—him winking like a prat, you shoving your broom at him so fast I thought you might take his arm off.”

“Oh. That.” Sirius swallowed thickly, willing himself to sound indifferent. “He was taking the piss again about my, uh—” He gestured vaguely to his neck, the mark still visible when his hair fell behind his shoulders.

Remus cleared his throat, disguising a laugh. “Ah.”

“Yes, ah,” Sirius muttered. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

He rolled his eyes, as if it were some minor annoyance and not something that was slowly unravelling him from the inside out. Pretending the love bite was a mystery in public was manageable. Bringing it up here, in private—acknowledging it for what it was, knowing exactly how it had gotten there—felt like peeling away a layer he wasn’t ready to lose.

Especially when the reminder brought that taunting smirk back to Moony’s lips.

“Oh, you’re very welcome.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes. Leaning on his elbow, he rested his chin in his palm, hoping to hide the flush of his cheeks. “Shut up,” he said, as harshly as he could manage.

“What? You didn’t like it?”

Oh, you bastard.

“No, in fact, I didn’t,” Sirius lied, though he knew damn well he was going to eat his words if Remus kept this up.

“Paaads,” Remus drawled, his voice dipping into something low and teasing, almost a purr. “Didn’t you learn anything last night?”

Something that felt concerningly like a shiver crawled its way down his spine. “I don’t think I know what you mean.”

Remus leaned forward, abandoning his now empty plate. “I think you do.”

Be cool, be cool, be cool.

Sirius tilted his head, looking up at him through his eyelashes. “Tell me then. What did I learn?”

A muscle in Remus’ jaw twitched. “That lying doesn’t get you anywhere,” he said, huskily.

“Oh, but, Moony. It did, though. It did.”

Remus’ eyes flashed, darkening hungrily.

Encouraged, Sirius pressed on. “But you know what?”

“What?”

“I think… that it was very wrong, what you did.”

Remus arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t hear you complaining.”

“Well. I am now.”

“Is that so?”

Sirius watched as Remus’ tongue darted out to wet his lips. “It is so.”

“Hm.”

For a long moment, they remained frozen, staring each other down across the table. Sirius was immobilized, utterly captured by the boy sitting opposite him. He knew it. Moony knew it. Everyone knew that he was helpless—utterly malleable in Moony’s hands. Remus had all the power. 

Strangely, he found he didn’t mind in the slightest.

Remus snapped out of it first—he always did—leaning back with a definitive nod of his head. He gave his mouth a final wipe with his napkin, saying, “Okay, I think I’m done.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

They stood in near-unison, their chairs scraping against the stone floor. Sirius’ heartbeat was loud in his ears as they made their way out of the kitchens, back through the portrait of the pear.

“After you,” Remus said, holding it open with a slight incline of his head.

“Why, thank you,” Sirius smirked over his shoulder—only to immediately trip over his own feet, humbling himself unfortunately.

Remus let out a breathy laugh, not bothering to hide it, and Sirius felt his cheeks heat up again. “Oh, piss off,” he muttered, shoving at Remus’ shoulder as they headed down the corridor.

They didn’t make it ten paces before they were kissing. 

Sirius wasn’t sure who had initiated it. One moment, he was blushing furiously, pushing Remus away for laughing at him. The next, they were pressed together, his arms wound tightly around Moony’s neck.

“Mon Dieu, finally,” Sirius breathed against his mouth as his back hit the wall.

Remus made a choked sound deep in his throat, and Sirius felt it reverberate through him like a shockwave.

Their mouths moved in tandem, the kiss frantic and breathless—none of the aching tenderness Sirius knew Remus’ lips were capable of. Maybe even made for. Because the moment he had him, all sense of pacing vanished. When Moony’s mouth was on his, all Sirius knew was urgency—too consumed by the fact that he could kiss him to ever slow down.

Instead, he sank his teeth into Remus’ bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth. Remus let out a low, guttural sound that nearly undid him. Sirius wanted to do that again. He wanted to do a lot of things—anything Remus wanted—just to hear more of those sounds.

“Where can we—?” he gasped, grabbing a fistful of Moony’s jumper and dragging him closer.

“Fuck—uh,” Remus pulled away with a groan of frustration. “Okay, what about—”

But Sirius couldn’t wait to hear what he had to say. Instead, he gripped the back of Remus’ neck, crashing their lips together again. He needed Moony now. Right now.

They stumbled backward into a waiting alcove, the shadows swallowing them. Sirius’ mind scattered, pieces blowing away like dandelions in the wind as their tongues slid together. Yes, he thought, breathing in that burnt sugar scent on his skin. Yes, yes, yes. This—this was what he’d been waiting for, what he’d craved in every stolen glance and fleeting touch. This was what made everything worth it—when the world disappeared, leaving only the two of them.

Sirius barely registered his surroundings as Remus pushed him into the farthest corner of the alcove, hidden from the corridor beyond. The flickering torchlight outside became a distant glow. Here, it was dark. Here, forbidden fantasies became something within his grasp. Here, Sirius got what he wanted.

“We shouldn’t—” Remus muttered, though his lips barely left Sirius’.

“I know,” Sirius promised. But Moony’s hands were running along his body, up and down his waist, his hips, leaving sparks in their wake. If Moony wasn’t stopping, he certainly couldn’t stop himself.

“God, I’ve—”

No, he shouldn’t say that.

Remus’ lips were on his neck now, hot breath ghosting over his skin. “You’ve what?”

Oh, fuck it.

“Moony, I’ve been wanting you all day,” Sirius groaned.

He hadn’t expected the reaction, but the moment the words left his mouth, Remus had him back against the wall, pushing their hips together. Sirius hissed at the contact, letting Remus pull his leg up to hook around him, pressing them even closer.

His hands dropped from Remus’ hair to the buttons of his jeans, and all Sirius could think was: Why hadn’t they been doing this all along? How had he ever resisted? Why had he wanted to?

Because when Remus’ hands were on him, there was no room for doubt. No room for hesitation. No room for anything but need—a burning hunger that tore through him, obliterating all rational thought, taking out stoplights and warning signs until he was hurtling down a one-way street with no exits, unable to hit the brakes.

Distantly, Sirius knew with a sort of haunting certainty that the wreckage would be irreparable.

Even later, when they cracked open a window to share a cigarette, Sirius found himself staring at Moony—all he could do was stare—wondering if Remus understood the extent of the damage, if he could see how much this was affecting him. Sirius hoped beyond hope that that wasn’t the case.

If he were responsible, if he had even a shred of dignity, Sirius would stop this.

He didn’t.

Closing his eyes, Remus inhaled deeply from the fag balanced artfully in his hand, his cheeks hollowing out as he tilted his head back against the wall. Sirius watched as his shoulders seemed to relax, as his mouth formed an oh as he blew out. Rings of smoke lifted into the air, mesmerising as they danced and faded away.

Everything was easier when Remus wasn’t looking directly at him.

“Moony?” Sirius asked, his voice too soft, tone much too tender.

Remus hummed in reply, a low, absent sound, and he felt his body respond to it, a subtle but undeniable pull.

“Did you know Prongs had prefect duties tonight?”

Remus’ eyes snapped open, fixing on him, the shift startling in its sharpness.

Sirius met his gaze as best he could, his stomach knotting. He wasn’t sure what he was hoping to see there—guilt, maybe, or something that hinted at vulnerability, at some secret being carefully tucked away.

But Remus’ expression gave away nothing. “Yeah,” he said slowly, his tone measured, careful. “I did.”

The knot in Sirius’ stomach eased, just a little. It wasn’t much—just a minuscule omission, really—but it settled somewhere deep in his chest. A quiet reassurance that he wasn’t entirely lost here, that this wasn’t completely uncharted territory.

Still, as soon as he’d said it, Sirius knew it had been the wrong thing to say—that later, he would toss and turn, playing the conversation on repeat. Friends didn’t ask each other things like that. 

He cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly. “Teach me how to do those smoke rings.”

Remus smiled, the tension in his shoulders dissolving, and Sirius latched onto the change with quiet relief.

Just like that, they carried on as if nothing had happened.

So, despite the knowledge that this wasn’t sustainable, that he was being selfish, that they would inevitably crash and burn, Sirius threw it all aside in favor of the now. He tugged Remus into more alcoves, into empty classrooms and broom cupboards (there, now you can officially graduate, Moony!), he waited until the others had just barely fallen asleep before crawling into Remus’ bed at night, running his hands beneath his jumper, kissing the scars on his skin, until Moony was just as desperate as he was.

Sirius took everything he was willing to give him.

He knew whatever this was, it didn’t mean anything—his feelings didn’t mean anything. They were purely… sexual. Passion didn’t last on its own, he knew that. As Mary always said, relationships—real relationships—like the one they had had, required a foundation. It required communication, it required feelings and trust. And as much as Sirius trusted Moony, they didn’t have much of the other two beyond a friendship level.

Yeah, they had passion. So what? Sirius couldn’t be blamed for that. It wasn’t his fault Moony was so good in bed. It wasn’t his fault he did the things Sirius liked, kissed the way Sirius wanted to be kissed, moved his hips in such a way. Nor could Sirius be blamed for the perfect amber shade of his eyes or the lovely tan of his skin. 

That he had the ability to make Sirius feel more than any girl ever had.

It was a natural reaction he was having, expected—it couldn’t be helped. If it were anyone else Remus was doing this with, they would’ve felt the same.

And if that thought sent a spike of white, hot rage coursing through him… well, that was understandable too. 

Sirius simply didn’t like to share.

****

The next few weeks were some of the most exhilarating of Remus’ life. There was nothing quite like the realization that Sirius wanted him—actually wanted him. It was as confusing as it was thrilling. At times, Remus felt as though his heart might burst from the sheer amount of love he held for Sirius. And though he now had an outlet for all those feelings, they hadn’t actually become any easier to deal with. In fact, it was almost like they’d intensified—if that was possible. 

He still couldn’t voice his feelings, not unless he wanted to say goodbye to what they had. But Remus had made his peace with that. He’d never had a problem bottling up his emotions before, and that wasn’t about to change now. His silence was a small price to pay. Besides, there wasn’t much time for talking those days anyway. Remus had finally found a way to shut Sirius up, and he took advantage of it wholeheartedly.

It was fun—pretending. Knowing they had everyone fooled. Remus marvelled at the way their eyes would meet across their circle of friends, in watching as Sirius' lips turned up at the corner in a barely there smirk. No one else noticed, but Remus could see it—the flash of want, the memories flickering behind his eyes, or the almost imperceptible raise of his brow: a silent question, a spine-tingling promise for later. Remus lived for the secret.

And they’d become very good at it. Or so he’d thought.

If he had to pinpoint the exact moment, Remus could’ve taken a number of guesses. Maybe it was the time Sirius accidentally stole his shirt, leaving him stranded in a broom cupboard with one far too small for him. Worse, it hadn’t even been Sirius’ but Mary’s—or maybe Marlene’s; he couldn’t remember. Explaining to Lily Evans, who’d caught him hurrying back to Gryffindor Tower in her friend’s Cherry Bomb shirt, clutching his stomach, was not something he ever wanted to relive.

It could also have been the time Sirius nearly took a beating after attempting to play footsies with Marlene, mistaking her leg for Remus’.

“Okay, who just felt me up under the table?” Marlene had demanded, loud enough to turn heads.

“Awh, McKinnon,” Sirius had said, reacting quickly despite the faint blush creeping up his cheeks. “You just looked so lonely over there.”

“I don’t know what gave you the impression you could touch me, Black, but let me set things straight: keep your bloody feet away from me.”

Or perhaps it wasn’t anything in particular, but a series of events that eventually coalesced into a fully-formed realisation. Whatever it was, when Lily joined him on the common room couch one evening and declared she had something to tell him, Remus knew he was in for it.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” he asked cautiously, his nerves spiking at the sincerity in her expression.

Lily took a deep breath. “Remus, I know.”

”Ow, goddammit!”

Remus’ ears perked up at the sound of Sirius’ voice, floating in from the corridor outside. Glancing over instinctively, he watched as the dark-haired boy stepped through the portrait hole, straightened and scanned the room.

Lily tugged gently at Remus’ sleeve, drawing his attention back. “No, not that. What I wanted to talk to you about is, well…”

Remus blinked, alarmed. “Hold on, back up a second. What do you mean, not that?”

“Oh.” Lily pressed her lips together, looking briefly guilty before waving him off. “No, it doesn’t matter. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Lily…”

”Remus…”

”Lily…” he said again.

She sighed in resignation. “Promise me you won’t run away.”

“Is it something I’m going to want to run away from?”

“Just promise,” Lily urged, clasping her freckled hands in her lap. Her socks had little orange and white pumpkins on them, Remus noticed absently, a fond detail amidst his growing dread.

“Fine, yeah. Promise,” he relented, though he was already regretting it as the words left his mouth. Still, this was Lily. It would be okay, wouldn’t it? He trusted her.

“Okay. Do you want the serious thing or the… um,” she bit her lip. “The other thing first?”

“Serious?”

“What about me?” Sirius appeared over the back of the couch, leaning in conspiratorially. “Hey Moons,” he added, ruffling Remus’ hair in greeting. Remus tried not to lean into the touch.

“Black, this doesn’t concern you,” Lily said sternly, though her lips twitched with amusement.

“‘Course it does! Moonpie said my name. I had to come investigate.”

“Actually,” Remus corrected. “It was serious with an e.”

“Awh.” Sirius slumped dramatically, resting his head sideways on his arm with a pout. “I hate that guy. And here I thought it was me you loved.”

Remus shook his head, failing to stifle a smile. You weren’t wrong, he thought helplessly. Out loud, it translated to: “Go away, you lunatic.”

“Moony!” Sirius wailed, wiping at invisible tears. “What happened to us? What happened to ‘let’s get married and have ten babies’?”

Remus laughed. Sirius’ eyes lit up and he laughed too.

“That never happened,” Remus said frankly, giving a regretful shrug.

“But it did.”

“Maybe in your dreams.”

Sirius pretended to think it over. Then, with a theatrical gasp, he threw up his hands: “Fuck!” he shouted, earning a dirty look from one of the fifth-year prefects. He scoffed, ignoring them. “I think you’re right.”

“Pity. Now go,” Remus said, making a shooing motion. “I’ll find you later.”

Sirius flipped him off, turning to leave.

”Oh! Wait,” Remus grabbed his wrist, halting his movements, but quickly retracting his hand as he realised what he’d done.

“Yeah?” Sirius asked, brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes.

”Why’d you yell before?”

”Huh? Oh!” He grinned. “Banged my elbow on the way in. Silly me.”

Remus shook his head, smiling stupidly as Sirius ran off up the stairs.

When he turned back to Lily, he was startled to find her doubled over with her head in her hands, shoulders shaking.

Remus felt a jump of anxiety in his chest, but then—oh, she was laughing. “Uh… Lils?” he asked, bemused.

“Oh,” Lily gasped, waving a hand as she dissolved into giggles. “I’m sorry, Remus. I don’t mean to laugh.”

“…It’s okay?” he ventured.

This only made her laugh harder.

“Oh God,” she said, when she finally managed to collect herself, smoothing down her hair. “I am surrounded by so many stupid people every day.”

Remus chuckled, still unsure what had caused the outburst.

“I just—how people don’t know about you two is beyond me.”

Oh.

“We’re not—” he began quickly.

Lily smiled, giving him a doubtful look, as if to say, Do you really think you can fool me?

Remus sighed, leaning back and rubbing a hand over his face. Unease crept over him, an unwanted intruder. What did this mean to her? He wondered. What did she think of people like him? Had she needed time to process it? Was she still doing so?

Lily was now the fourth person to know about his feelings for Sirius—his feelings for blokes, in general. She was the first one he was afraid would look at him differently.

Remus continued to avoid Lily’s gaze, waiting—for what, he didn’t know. She didn’t press, giving him a moment to process what he’d just learned.

Finally, bracing himself, he looked up. He searched her face—the arch of her eyebrows, the curve of her lips, her freckled nose—for any trace of judgment. He found none.

Lily Evans’ green eyes held nothing but love.

“This doesn’t… change anything, does it?” he asked, just to be sure—to see if he could evoke some reaction, find some flaw in a well-concealed facade.

“No.” She said it so firmly he almost wondered if she’d heard him right. “Except that I know you better now, and that makes me happy.”

The clenched fist around his chest loosened its grip.

“You’re a very perceptive woman,” he said, releasing a relieved chuckle.

“I know I am. But honestly, Remus, it shouldn’t take much intelligence to see it.”

“That’s great, thanks,” he said sarcastically.

Lily shook her head, an amused smile forming on her lips. “Apparently, most people lack that, though, so you shouldn’t worry.”

“Oh, thank heavens,” he joked. Then, after a pause: “When did you realize?”

“I realized how you felt about him on your birthday. During Truth or Dare.”

Ah. Well, that made a lot of sense.

“Did you do that on purpose?” he asked. “Did you know when you dared him to flirt with me?”

“I had an inkling. Thought I’d test it out,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Lily Evans, you are evil. Pure evil.”

“Yes, that was rather fun, wasn’t it?”

“No. No, it wasn’t.”

“Sirius seemed to enjoy it.”

“Enjoyed torturing me, more like.”

“The way I saw it, he was torturing himself just as much as he was torturing you.”

Remus hummed in response. “Well, we did end up snogging after that.”

“No!” Lily gasped in delight. “Oh, I knew something was up that day.” Then her expression turned concerned. “Wait. Wasn’t that the day he asked Mary to be his girlfriend?”

“Yep.”

“Jesus. And I thought I pitied you before.”

“Pitied me?” Remus asked, offended.

“Duh. I pity anyone who falls for Black’s charm. I pitied Mary, and now I pity you. And all the other girls who pine after him, of course.”

Remus made a face. Exactly how many girls were pining after Sirius?

“Oh, did I hit a sore spot?” Lily asked knowingly.

“No,” he grumbled.

She raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.

“You know he’s not all bad,” Remus said, feeling the strange need to defend Sirius. Or perhaps to defend himself for fancying him. “You don’t know what his family’s like.”

Remus hated to think what would’ve happened if the Potters hadn’t taken him in when they did.

Lily nodded in understanding. “I know, Remus. You know deep down I love the guy.” She paused. “Okay, that might be a stretch, but—he’s alright, once you see past all the… arsehole layers.”

Remus snorted. “Yeah.”

“Anyway,” Lily continued. “I knew you two had become something after the train back to school.”

At the guilty look on his face, she laughed. “No, as sneaky as you both might think you are, you didn’t fool me.”

Remus recalled her calculating gaze as he’d stepped out of the bathroom, the heat of her lingering scrutiny. Lily deserved far more credit than she was given. 

“We’re really not, though,” he told her, tilting his head back against the couch cushions in resignation. “Something, I mean.”

When he paused even a moment to think about it, it hurt. If being with Sirius was like a drug, the pain in his chest had dulled, but only in the way a numbing agent might dull a wound. When he looked down, it was still there—gaping and raw, like a bullet in the chest—and Sirius, for all the euphoric highs he brought, didn’t seem to be the cure.

“I did say I knew a lot of stupid people, didn’t I?”

“You did.”

“Remus—”

“No, never mind that.” He didn’t want to think about it. Some things were better left alone. “Just tell me what you wanted to tell me and let’s be done with it, okay?”

Lily sighed. “It’s not healthy to ignore your feelings, you know?”

“Yep, well, that sucks for me. I’ve never had great health in the first place.”

Lily frowned, her disapproval clear.

“Life sucks. You move on. What can you do,” Remus added, summoning as much false enthusiasm as he could muster. “I know, I know. James keeps trying to get me to work on my motivational speeches. Says they’re rubbish—that they make me look pitiful.”

“They are pitiful. James is right.”

Remus smirked. “Yeah, he is.”

Lily decidedly did not appreciate his topic-changing tactic. Picking up her book, which had been resting on the table next to them, she swatted him lightly with it, blushing fiercely.

“Wipe that smug grin off your face this instant, Remus Lupin.”

He did nothing of the sort. “I still can’t believe you caved.”

Lily groaned, putting her face in her hands. “I know. Believe me, I know.”

“I mean, really,” he continued, stoking the fire just because he could. “You threw away all of your principles. For a man. James Potter, at that.”

“Keep your voice down,” Lily hissed, glancing around. No one was listening, of course. The only person nearby was a timid-looking first year, fiddling with their pigtails, as they seemingly waited for someone.

“Nothing’s going to happen if people find out, you know. Sure, you might get a little teasing, but it’s not like you’ll be—” Remus stopped himself. That wasn’t fair of him. Lily was allowed her reasons. It was none of his or anyone else’s business what she had with James, or who they shared that with.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel that it might be nice to love loudly.

Lily didn’t miss it. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I’m sorry for taking that for granted.”

He waved her off. Being sorry got them nowhere. 

“Shit, we’re getting sidetracked, aren’t we?” he said, suddenly remembering where their conversation had started. “What else did you want to talk to me about?”

Lily hesitated. “Erm, yeah, so…”

Remus’ nerves came rushing back as a much more worrisome thought occurred to him—a far more damning secret. How had he managed to miss it?

It was like, when Sirius was around, when he was brought up, when Remus thought about him—even for a second—he was rendered blind, incapable of prioritising anything else before him. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve solved all my other dark secrets too,” he tried to joke.

Lily lifted her shoulders in a small, apologetic grimace. “Just one more…”

Notes:

Currently, I am in the crux of exams which is why this took longer, but that will soon be over. Hopefully for good (thank Merlin lol). Best of luck to anyone who might be suffering through them as well.

Aww writing this reminded me how much I love Lily. Poor Remus, getting all his secrets exposed in one sitting. He is so me.

But yeah, yay for Lily, yay for Jily, and yay for wolfstar. K. That’s all. Besitos xx.

Chapter 36: beginner’s luck

Summary:

sirius learns about moony’s culture

You see me as your lifeline

Other boys and girls never really made you feel right

And you can't explain why I'm always running your mind

Don't you see the answer's right in front of your eyes?

~Conan Gray (The King)

 

It was Sirius’ birthday. Not just any birthday, it was his seventeenth. Seventeen birthdays were momentous. They marked a turning point in one’s life, the end of one era and the start of a new one. They opened many doors—some you wanted opened, some you waited by as a child, saying, ‘Please, let me in. I’ll be good, I promise!’ Others weren’t so inviting.

Sirius knew exactly how the day would’ve gone had he stayed with his family: tea with unfriendly cousins and brothers who hated him, accompanied by collared shirts and meticulously cleaned shoes. Scalding letters from his mother, reminding of his duty. The waxed seal on the envelope, the emblem and the motto: toujours purs (‘tu as intérêt à t’en rappeler Sirius !’). Finally, the watch: a treasure passed down for generations, silver enchaining his wrist like bindings. It was the kind of silver that was not so willingly transfigured—that demonstrated worthiness and nobility to an equally ‘noble’ name, warding off evil spirits and demons, just as well as boys with golden-brown hair and scars on the bridge of their noses.

No, that just wouldn’t do. Even if he were welcome, which he wasn’t—Sirius would never go back. He couldn’t imagine anything worse. 

So though he now carried seventeen years under his belt—and maybe just a tad more maturity than the previous birthday—Sirius was sure by the end of the night that wouldn’t be evident.

Many of his classmates seemed to have the same idea. The Gryffindor Quidditch team was positively brimming with energy after practice that evening, both from the sure win of their approaching game and the party that was awaiting them in the common room. James raced off the second they’d touched down, shouting some excuse about prefect duties over his shoulder (“What’s with the secrecy, Potter? We all know what you’re up to!”), and leaving Sirius to head to the change rooms to shower.

He took his time rinsing off, mind busy with thoughts of the night to come. There was something so exciting about the uncertainty of it—the endless possibilities that came when the Marauders had a plan, especially one that involved alcohol. More than that, Sirius was restless to see Moony with his guard down again. He wanted the honesty, the wandering hands, the confidence it gave him. He wanted to be sought out. 

He wanted Remus to be the one to want it.

Shaking visions of sneaking away from the party—he’d never make it there in the first place if he started like that—Sirius dressed as the rest of his team gradually filed out of the change rooms. He was just pulling on a clean shirt when he heard voices floating around the corner.

“Hey there, good looking!”

“Dorcas, what are you doing here? You know you’re not allowed to watch our practices.”

“I didn't watch,” came the reply. Dorcas Meadows had a very assured way of talking, unhurried and confident, like she knew others would listen. “Just thought I’d take a stroll, come see how hot you look after practice. What, you’re not happy to see me?”

Sirius froze in place, shirt halfway on. His heart was doing a funny thing in his chest.

Marlene hummed her disagreement. “You know that’s not true.”

Silence followed this statement. Pulling his shirt down quickly, Sirius pressed closer to the wall, ears straining.

“Wait,” came Marlene’s voice again, much softer this time.

He was only given a few seconds' warning to jump back from the wall and do his best to look busy before Marlene appeared around the corner.

“Oh,” she said, as her narrowed eyes fell on him. “It’s just Black.”

A moment later, Dorcas leaned into view, holding herself up against the wall on the other side. “Hello, Sirius. Enjoying eavesdropping, were you?”

“I wasn’t eavesdropping,” he said automatically.

“Sure you weren’t.” Her eyes flicked over to Marlene, lips forming into a slight smirk. Marlene returned the look, raising a brow. Sirius was beginning to feel uneasy.

“Alright, come on, Black,” Marlene said, nodding toward the door as Dorcas pulled her along by the wrist.

“Uh, to where?” he asked, scrambling to grab his things before following after them.

“Back to the castle, where else?”

Sirius chuckled nervously. “I don’t know. I feel like you’re about to kidnap me.”

“Nonsense.”

Outside, Marlene slipped her arm in his, the other linking with Dorcas’. “We’re looking forward to your party, by the way,” she said, flashing him a bright smile.

“Oh, you’re coming, Dorcas?” he asked as they walked back up the grassy expanse toward the castle. It was surprisingly warm for November, but the air was thick, condensing further as the clouds gathered above. Sirius hoped it would rain.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Dorcas responded easily. 

“Good. Yeah, should be fun.”

They both nodded. 

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while,” Marlene said, regarding him curiously. “Been busy?”

There was something in the way she said it that had his insides squirming.

“Oh, erm…”

Flashbacks of the dusty interiors of broom cupboards, stifled moans and fingers tightening in hair came rushing at him suddenly. Sirius flushed, clearing his throat. “Kind of.”

Yes, he had been fairly… preoccupied of late, but it was more than that. Truthfully, he’d felt a bit foolish around Marlene since their conversation back in September—a bit like he’d been tricked. He knew he’d probably blown it out of proportion—that it was unlikely she actually knew how he felt about Remus, or that she’d been provoking him on purpose—but that hadn’t stopped Sirius from avoiding her as best he could.

“What’ve you been up to?” Marlene asked, adjusting her grip on his arm.

“Nothing really. School’s, erm, keeping me busier than usual.” Technically, it was true. He had joined Remus on a couple of extra study days in the library (not that they’d been very long or productive).

“You’re funny,” Marlene said, clearly unconvinced.

He had to admit, it had been a feeble excuse at best. 

“Hey, how’s Remus?” Dorcas joined in from her other side.

Dammit, were these two legilimens?

“Remus is… good. I guess. Fine. I don’t really—not that he—yeah, you know, maybe you should ask him,” Sirius laughed awkwardly. Oh, for the love of Merlin!

“Right,” said Dorcas.

Sirius kept his eyes on the sky, wishing a bolt of lightning would strike him down. At least then he wouldn’t have to hear the amusement in Marlene’s voice when she turned to her and said, “Who knew that was such a difficult question?”

“Babe, stop, you’re freaking him out.”

“No, you are.”

“Mmm, no, that would be you.”

Sirius took several deep breaths as he tried not to panic. Underneath that barely-contained panic was a whole lot of confusion. He felt he was missing some huge plot line—like he’d accidentally skipped a few episodes of whatever show his life had turned into.

He was imagining it, right? The soft, teasing way Dorcas and Marleen talked to each other? The closeness he hadn’t even known they’d had? Girls were just like that sometimes, weren’t they? It didn’t mean anything.

“Look,” said Dorcas, interrupting his thoughts. “I only asked because, well, correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought you and Remus were dating.”

Oh! Oh wow!

This was really happening. Sirius Black was having a heart attack at the ripe age of seventeen.

“I—what?! We’re not—why would you—? I don’t—”

Dorcas raised an eyebrow. “So, is that a yes or a no?”

“No!” he spluttered incredulously.

He and Moony dating. Not likely. 

Dorcas' eyes widened in genuine surprise, her shoulders slumping. “Oh.”

She looked—disappointed? No, surely he was reading that wrong. 

“So there’s nothing between you two?” she asked.

Sirius responded on bare survival instinct alone. “Godric! No! Gross! We’re—friends. That’s all. Remus and I are friends.”

Fuck, had he overdone it?

Panic was a vice on his throat, squeezing sharply until his eyes began to water. He glanced longingly at the shadows extending out from the Forbidden Forest—maybe he could find a nice cave to hide in for a few years—but Marlene held steadfast to his arm, keeping him in place.

“Sorry, Black,” she said. “Forgive my—her. Dorcas’ gaydar is terrible.”

“Gaydar?” Sirius asked, though his heart pounding in his ears nearly drowned out her words. 

“Yeah, you know. Radar for gay people. She needs to work on it. Doesn’t come naturally to everyone.”

“Ah. And yours does?”

Marlene smiled proudly. “Of course.”

“And what does it say?” Sirius asked, quite sure he didn’t want to hear the answer.

His suspicions were confirmed when she winked, saying, “Oh, you already know what I think.”

That gnawing feeling in his gut returned full force as Sirius recalled the startling theories Marlene had voiced to him. He thought of all the days he sat in Charms class, glaring at the back of that infuriating blond boy’s head. Gripping tightly to his quill as Simon leaned into Moony’s side, as Remus smiled at him, as the urge to stab himself with said quill grew stronger and stronger.

What, you don’t think someone could fancy Remus?

Had Marlene really not been kidding?

Then, a second thought occurred to him. “Hey, do you actually like Remus, or was that a joke?” Sirius asked casually.

Marlene hummed noncommittally. Pressing her lips together, she glanced around as if trying to avoid eye contact.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Dorcas asked, suddenly on alert.

Marlene smiled guiltily—though for what, Sirius didn’t know. “Nothing, nothing, Cass. Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes?”

“And why shouldn’t I do that?”

“Because… you think I’m pretty?”

Dorcas tossed her braids behind her shoulder, lips pursed in disapproval.

Marlene tried again. “And… I think you’re prettier?”

They’d reached the entrance hall by now, and Sirius glanced around, suddenly feeling like he was intruding on something. A group of Hufflepuffs passed by, chattering good-naturedly—why had he never made friends with anyone outside his house?

Marlene halted, gently grabbing Dorcas’ arm to stop her. Stepping closer, she began whispering into Dorcas' ear, the other girl holding her in by the elbow.

“Okay, I’m gonna go…” Sirius mumbled, jerking his thumb behind him.

When he looked back, they were both giggling, leaning into the other for balance.

“Sirius, we’ll see you at the party, okay?” Dorcas called after him. Neither of them made any move to follow.

“Yep. The party. Brilliant.”

He turned and fled. 

****

The common room was packed. It seemed like all of Gryffindor had shown up to celebrate as Sirius completed his seventeenth year around the sun.

Remus knew Sirius was popular with the girls—Lily certainly had had a point about that—but he had underestimated the sheer number of them; there were nearly twice as many girls, all flocking to Sirius like birds, swarming him, batting their long eyelashes. Remus was swiftly reminded how much he detested these parties. 

Resigning himself to a night of moderate to intense torment—the severity all dependent on Sirius’ own thirst for attention—Remus filled his cup with a generous dose of firewhiskey.

“Punch?”

He jumped, nearly sloshing the drink over himself as he turned to Lily. She stood next to the refreshments table, ladle in hand, wearing a long orangey-pink skirt that nearly matched the colour of the punch.

She waved the ladle at him in question.

“No thanks, trying to quit,” Remus said flatly.

“Oh yeah, what’s that you’ve got there?” she asked, indicating toward his cup.

“Haven’t you heard? It’s healthier to drink the hard stuff,” Remus joked. “Less ingredients.”

“Very funny.”

He flashed his teeth, smiling awkwardly.

“Oh, come on. You’re not still avoiding me, are you?”

“Avoiding you?” Remus asked, taking a large gulp of his drink—too large, it seemed, because he nearly choked as the burn slid down his throat. “Avoiding you, how?”

Lily placed a hand on her hip. “Remus, please. Spare me the excuses. Yeah, I get it. I know things about you. It sucks. Well, guess what?” she said, pointing the ladle at him menacingly. “That’s how friendship works. So suck it up.”

Remus swallowed, the guilt icy cold as it hit him—or maybe that was the punch, spraying up as Lily tossed the ladle carelessly back into the bowl. He wiped his brow, licking a droplet off his finger. Definitely punch.

Lily was right, though. He had been avoiding her. He hadn’t wanted to, exactly, and he certainly hadn’t intended on hurting her; he just—he hadn’t known what else to do.

She knew. She knew about him. Not only about his feelings for his best friend—his gay feelings for his best friend—but about his scars, his transformations, the monster that lay awake inside him, just below the surface.

Lily knew more about him now than just about anyone. 

Well, except for Sirius.

There was a certain level of knowing, truly knowing, that he’d only ever had with Sirius. The type of closeness that came when you not only understood someone’s mind, but also their body. The secrets of their unique language. The no’s when they really meant yes. The yes’s when they really meant no. The hidden glances. The meaning behind every sigh, every touch, every urging nod. To recognise the signs—each one—until you knew what bliss looked like on their face.

It was more than that, of course. Remus wouldn’t pretend he and Sirius completely understood each other—far from it. There was a lot about him he didn’t get—like why Sirius was across the room, and not dragging him upstairs while the dormitory was empty. 

Remus was more than halfway drunk, the firewhiskey warming his stomach, slinking down his legs and out his arms, and his ability to control his mind was rapidly failing him. He was only so strong after all, could only look away for so long as Sirius threw his arms up, black hair flying around him as he danced like some horrific slow-motion scene from the cinema.

Cursing under his breath, Remus focused his attention back on Lily. It was not without difficulty. Thankfully, she didn’t mention the distraction that had so easily befallen him, but the crease between her brows remained pronounced, expectant.

“You’re right,” Remus sighed. “I was avoiding you. It was stupid, I know. I’ll stop. Promise.”

That was all it took. Before he knew what was happening, Lily was grinning and taking his hands. She pulled him onto the dance floor, and for some reason, he let her.

As they danced—in other words, as Remus bobbed his head and spun Lily around while she danced—Remus let his gaze wander back to Sirius. He was relieved to see he wasn’t with any of the girls who’d been throwing themselves at him before, but was dancing with James and Mary. They were involved in a sort of three-person jig, arms linked as they kicked up their legs, laughing loudly. It didn’t quite go with the song, but they made it work.

As if sensing him watching, Sirius glanced up, mid-grin, and his eyes locked with Remus’. Remus felt his heart kick up—that certainly hadn’t stopped, even if he could no longer count the number of times they’d kissed. Sirius bit his lip and looked away.

Were there different rules at parties? Remus wondered as he knocked back the rest of his drink. Was he allowed to approach him? Or did Sirius have appearances to keep up with?

“I’m gonna get another drink,” he told Lily, waving his empty cup meaningfully.

She just nodded, only seeming to be half listening. Her gaze, Remus noted, was also fixed across the room, following the overdone movements of James’ hips to the beat of the music. Remus shook his head. What had become of the two of them?

Trying to ignore the feeling of all the sweaty bodies brushing against him, Remus made his way out of the crowd, letting out a breath of relief. Curiosity got the better of him, and he served himself some punch. The firewhiskey had loosened his limbs spectacularly, but he figured he ought to slow down if he was going to keep his head.

He was just trying to decide whether the drink held notes of cranberry or pomegranate—he couldn’t seem to remember the distinction—when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Fancy a round of cards?” asked Sirius, smiling up at him. “No one else will play with me.”

Remus highly doubted that was the case, but he didn’t say so and nodded, following the other boy. If Sirius wanted to play cards, they would play cards.

Upon inspection, all the couches and chairs were full, and a group of loud fourth years had taken residence over their usual spot by the fire. 

This did not deter Sirius, though. Winking, he grabbed Remus by the wrist and led him to the far corner of the room, snatching a free pillow from a nearby couch as they passed.

“My back’s not cut out for this,” Remus muttered as Sirius dropped to the floor, pulling him down next to him.

“Well, that’s why I brought you this,” Sirius said, fluffing up the pillow he’d snagged and presenting it to Remus with a swoop of his hand.

“Wow,” said Remus, feigning astonishment. “I guess Mary was wrong. You are a real gentleman after all.”

“I can be a gentleman for you, Moonsicle.”

Remus shoved him lightly. Stupid fucking butterflies.

“Moonsicle, eh?” he asked, ignoring the comment. “That’s a new one.”

Sirius shrugged, giving him a teasing smile. “Just came to me. Thought you’d like it.”

Remus liked all the nicknames Sirius gave him. All of them. Because he was pathetic.

“It’s stupid,” he said, which was also true.

“Aww, Moonderland. Moonsy. Mooners. Moon Moons. Moony Mcmoonbeam. Mr. Moonlight. My…” Sirius trailed off.

Remus fixed him with his best death stare. “Was there a point to all that?”

“Well, I was hoping to make you blush at least.”

Oh, come on. That was not fair. 

“Did it work?” Sirius leaned in, squinting as he tried to inspect his face, which was perfectly cool and not warm at all, thank you very much.

Remus pushed him away. “No.”

“Okay, whatever you say, Moonshine.”

Reaching into his trouser pockets, Sirius took out a deck of Muggle cards. “Alright, what shall we play?”

Remus shrugged, watching as he flipped the tab on the box, pulling them out and setting them down between them. 

“You know they don’t shuffle themselves, right?”

Sirius huffed, rolling his eyes. “I know that, Moony.” But he picked them up, a crease forming in his brow as he examined them closely, as if expecting them to hold some sort of answer. 

Remus bit back a smile. “Where did you even get Muggle cards anyway?”

“Mary,” Sirius said airily. “Figured it was time I got properly educated on your culture.”

Remus laughed. “If you say so. I haven’t played in ages.”

“Well, just teach me any game you remember. Doesn’t matter what,” Sirius said earnestly as he attempted to shuffle, picking cards out of the deck and stuffing them back in at random.

Remus cringed as several cards bent enough for lines to appear on their faces.

“Here, let me.” He reached out, taking the deck gently out of Sirius’ grip. Their fingers brushed, and Remus looked up, meeting his eyes—pure electricity. It was somehow so much more when Remus knew that it meant something. When he knew where that brush of fingers could lead.

Clearing his throat, he cut the deck in half. Holding both halves up for Sirius to see, he demonstrated as he bent them between his thumb and two fingers. Then he lined them up over the floor, releasing the top sides with his thumbs until they shuffled together with a satisfying thrrrr sound.

He repeated the process several times as Sirius watched on with rapt attention.

“Moony, see, this is what I mean when I say you’ve got tricks up your sleeve,” said Sirius, eyes wide. 

“That wasn’t a trick. It’s just the easiest way to shuffle,” Remus replied plainly.

“Still cool. You’re cool,” Sirius said, shifting into a more comfortable position. His foot brushed his.

Suddenly and embarrassingly pleased, Remus sipped his drink to hide the fact.

“Okay, how ‘bout we play war?” he asked quickly.

“War… Sounds violent.”

“Eh, it’s really not. Much more peaceful than exploding snap.”

“Well, war sounds worse.”

Remus shrugged. “Okay, so it’s pretty simple,” he began as he split the deck again, eyeing it as best he could to be approximately half.

“Basically, we flip cards over one at a time, and if we have the same card, we have to fight.”

Sirius nodded eagerly. “Like physically?”

Remus snorted. “No. Not physically. With the cards. This is a card game after all.”

Sirius raised his arms in protest. “How was I supposed to know?”

He supposed that was fair. It wasn’t like wizard games were particularly intuitive.

“Okay, so if we get the same card, we flip three more cards each and spell out war. One card for each letter. Whoever’s third card is the highest has to take the bigger pile left over.”

Sirius frowned, leaning forward with an elbow on his knee. “Wait, say that again?”

Remus repeated himself.

Sirius continued to frown, squeezing both sides of his head like he might force enough brain power together to understand. Eventually, he slouched over, letting a hand fall onto Remus’ shoulder in defeat. “I don’t think I’m sober enough to follow instructions, Moons.”

Remus smiled, Sirius’ hand warming his skin through the fabric of his shirt. “Let’s just play and you’ll get the hang of it.”

“Okay.”

They began flipping over cards, quickly settling into a rhythm. When they finally turned over a matching pair, Sirius grabbed Remus’ arm, exclaiming excitedly. “Oh, oh oh!”

Remus was hit with a familiar wave of affection for him, heart twanging painfully in his chest. He washed the bittersweet taste away with punch.

Sirius won the first face-off, which meant Remus was left with the larger pile and, he figured, another large swig of his drink. War was indeed quite simple, which made it the perfect drinking game. 

In the first fifteen minutes on the floor, the space between them had begun to shrink—so gradually Remus couldn’t tell if one of them had planned it or if the flowing drinks had made it so—until they were leaning right into each, laughing hysterically at nothing, the tips of Sirius’ hair tickling Remus’ face.

Remus was just catching his breath from one of these bouts of laughter, stomach aching in the best way, when he heard someone clear their throat above them.

It was some random blonde girl. Maybe her name was Melanie, perhaps Eleanor; Remus didn’t care. He had never had a reason to hate her before, but he found, as she looked down at Sirius hopefully, swaying slightly where she stood, that the hatred came as naturally as breathing.

“What are you guys playing?” the girl asked.

“A game,” Remus said flatly. “You wouldn’t know it.”

“Can I join? I’m a fast learner,” she said, batting her eyelashes.

Remus ground his teeth together, glancing at Sirius. He half expected him to leap up and grab her a pillow, saying something stupid like, ‘Of course, my lady. Your wish is my command’—it was only in his nature after all.

He did not expect Sirius to reject her outright. “Sorry, it’s a two-person game,” said Sirius dismissively. 

“Aww, come on. You can start a different one for me, can’t you?”

“No, we’re right in the middle of it. I’m sure someone else would love to play with you, though.”

It almost sounded sarcastic, somehow, cold, the way he said it. Remus felt a smug surge of satisfaction as the girl’s self-assured confidence slipped away. Looking very clearly put out, she stalked off with a huff. 

“Well,” said Sirius with a shake of his head.

“Well.”

“She was annoying.”

“Very.”

Sirius frowned.

Remus frowned right back.

Then they burst into laughter again.

“Here, wait. I have an idea,” Sirius said, once they’d recovered.

Feeling around in his pockets, he pulled out his wand.

“Are you sure that’s a good—”

But Sirius was already moving. He made a quick sweeping motion with his wand, and the couch to their right, now unoccupied, jerked sideways so their little corner was blocked from view.

“There!” Sirius stuffed his wand back in his pocket, satisfied with his work. “Now no one can disturb us.”

A rush of warmth surged up in Remus’ chest. “I thought you liked the attention,” he said, looking at him curiously. 

“Oh! I mean, yeah, I do. Just… birthdays are for friends, you know?”

“Yeah, right.”

“Besides, that chick was into you. Not me.”

Remus stared, aghast. “She was not. She was practically drooling all over you.”

He tried to control the spike of irritation that flared up again as he thought of the girl’s face, the assured way she’d carried herself, like she was so sure she could get what she wanted. Like Sirius was already hers for the taking. 

“Me? Moony, are you blind?”

“No, you are. Anyway, it’s your birthday party. She’d obviously want to talk to you.”

“Ha! Gods, you’re so oblivious sometimes.”

“Right back atcha.”

Understatement of the fucking century. 

“Oh, speaking of birthdays,” Remus said, hoping to change the topic. “I have something for you later.”

Sirius pressed a hand to his heart. “What? Moonyyy. You didn’t have to.”

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Remus said, skin prickling with embarrassment. “Or else I won’t give it to you.”

“What is it?”

“I’m not telling. You have to see when you open it. That’s how presents work.”

“But, Moons,” Sirius whined. “You know how impatient I get.”

“Trust me, it’s boring. A lazy job of a present. Not even worth your impatience.”

Sirius hummed. “But see, the problem is not only am I impatient, but I also have a very active imagination,” he said slowly.

Remus stilled. Like the flick of a switch, the frequency in the room changed, the easy conversation descending into something charged, loaded.

It was intentional when Sirius let his voice drop, slowing his syllables down to a crawl as he said, “You don’t want to know the things I’m imagining right now.”

It hit Remus like a train car, sparks shooting off the brakes as he tried desperately to turn off the full-body reaction Sirius had evoked in him.

Sirius didn’t fail to notice. “Hm, or maybe you do,” he said, lips turning up at the corners.

Remus held back a groan. “Fuck, Sirius.” He wanted to kiss that smirk right off his face.

Instead, it only grew wider. Sirius leaned close like he had a secret to tell, cupping Remus’ ear. His lips brushed against him, goosebumps spreading from every point of contact. “It does have to do with that, yes.”

Remus swore. Again. “You’re not supposed to do that,” he breathed. 

“Do what?”

And despite his best efforts to keep it, Remus was losing his head, everything going just a little fuzzy at the corners. Which was why he couldn’t be blamed for the next thing that tumbled out of his mouth:

“Make me want to fuck you in broad daylight.”

He was rewarded for his honesty by a sharp intake of breath.

“It’s… not broad daylight,” Sirius said, swallowing visibly.

“Well, I’m pretty sure it’d cause a scene either way.”

Remus watched the quickening rise and fall of Sirius’ chest, the darting glance of his eyes towards the rest of the room, like he was considering it. Then, strangely, something seemed to dawn on him and he began counting on his fingers.

“What are you doing?” Remus asked as Sirius nodded, dropping his hand and smiling slightly to himself.

“Nothing, Moony. Nothinggg. Relaaaax.”

Then he froze, hand flying outward toward Remus suddenly. “I mean, no! Don’t relax. Do whatever you want!”

“What—?”

“—As long as that’s me, of course.”

Remus sucked in a breath. When had they become so direct with each other?

The moon must’ve had some effect, he recognised. He was always more impatient in the days before the full, less concerned with perfection and more focused on efficiency. A bit more one-track minded…

Wait a second.

“Padfoot, were you just counting down the days till the full moon?”

Sirius had been chewing on his lip, regarding him intently, but blinked at the question. He gave a guilty smile. “Maybe.”

“I see.” Remus glanced down at his pile of cards, pushing the top one around aimlessly. 

“Hey.” Sirius ran a light finger over his hip bone, making him shiver. “You know I like you every day of the month.”

“The others don’t. I yelled at Pete for eating my chocolate this morning, and he ran away.”

“If he ate your chocolate, he deserved it. Obviously.”

Remus shrugged.

“They do always like you, though, Moons. ‘Course they do. They just don’t… understand all the benefits as well as I do.”

Remus looked up. “Benefits…”

“Yeah…” Sirius said, cheeks slightly rosy, though he couldn’t be sure whether it was from the liquor or something else. “You know, you’re, like, hot when you get like this.”

“Hot…”

“Yes. Sometimes. Or, well—” Sirius laughed, tapping his pile of cards with his nails. “You know, you’re a decent-looking guy. I’m sure the ladies have told you so a million times.”

“Not really.”

“Don’t be stupid. Of course they have.”

“Haven’t.”

“Have.”

“Nope.”

“Yep.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yuh huh.”

Remus shook his head, giving in. He didn’t particularly care to talk about what the ladies had or hadn’t told him.

Instead, let himself get sucked into the mirage that was Sirius. He was all high cheekbones and pouty lips, inviting him in. Bright, sincere eyes. Pulse fluttering under the delicate skin of his throat. Remus wanted him under his hands like clay, malleable, letting him shape and take what he needed. He wanted to paint him with his tongue and mould their skin together, until he felt what Sirius felt, until they absorbed each other’s pain—until they became one person. He wanted to love him like it was an art form and make Sirius believe he was art.

And then Sirius went and ruined it with an uncharacteristic demonstration of patience. 

“Okay, let’s finish the game,” he said, lifting his next card and glancing up at Remus expectantly.

Remus had the sudden urge to hurl something. Maybe Sirius. Maybe against a wall. 

Yeah.

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, feeling like he was experiencing some sort of emotional whiplash. Cards was pretty much at the bottom of his list of priorities right now.

“Sirius,” he said, trying to keep the rough edge out of his voice. “You can’t just—”

“Can’t just what?” Sirius asked innocently. He held up his card, pressing it to his bottom lip so it indented the soft skin there.

Remus breathed in deeply through his nose, trying to calm down. That had also been a mistake, because now all he could smell was him. His senses were clogged with it, the coconut of Sirius’ conditioner fogging his brain dizzyingly, along with that musky something that was just a part of him, just Sirius. 

When he didn’t respond, Sirius nudged him. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“I’m not looking at you like anything,” Remus said gruffly.

“Yes, you are, and it’s not common room appropriate.”

“Alright, so let’s leave.”

Sirius grinned slyly. “What happened to teaching me your culture?”

“I don’t know, you’ve learned the rules, haven’t you?” Remus said, tracing a pattern on Sirius’ arm. They were still hidden behind the couch, and he thought he better take advantage of that.

“Guess so,” Sirius murmured. His hand came to rest on Remus’ thigh. “Think anyone’ll notice if we—?”

Remus licked his lips, one hand moving to Sirius’ back, his thumb dipping beneath his shirt. “Nahhh, definitely not. They’re all drunk anyway.”

Sirius hummed in consideration. “Yes, but I am the birthday boy, so… someone might miss me.”

“No one will miss you.”

“Someone might.”

“Doubt it. Sirius Black? Nah, who gives a toss about that tosser?”

“Watch it, handsy. It’s my birthday. You’re supposed to be making me feel special.”

Remus grinned devilishly, hand creeping lower. “I can make you feel special.”

Sirius gave him a sideways glance, that teasing glint in his eye fading to something else—something greedy, eager. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Remus breathed, gaze flicking to Sirius’ lips, parted as if they were waiting for him. “If you let me.”

Sirius tilted forward, hand sliding higher on Remus’ leg. He was pretty sure he made some sort of sound at that, but it was lost to the music and the shouts of the partygoers, completely unaware of what was going on not ten metres away, of the blood rushing through Remus’ ears as their lips met.

It was over before he could get a proper taste, Sirius pushing himself up and away, and then Remus was following—what else would he have done—until they’d made it through the door to the staircase and they were falling back together again.

When Remus kissed him this time, he got exactly what he wanted.

Any of the pretend nonchalance was forgotten as they fumbled in the semi-darkness, lips moving together, all the while trying to climb the stairs without separating. It was an impossible feat, and Sirius nearly fell backwards, laughing against Remus’ mouth as he caught him around the waist.

“You taste like punch,” Sirius said, fingers curled around his jaw.

Remus pressed his lips back to his, tasting with a flick of his tongue. Sirius groaned into it, lips parting in invitation.

“You taste like Sirius,” Remus said, too overwhelmed to articulate further.

“Is that a good thing?”

He nodded. 

And then they were kissing again. 

It may not have been their first kiss, or their second or third, but it seemed no amount of kisses could ever rid Remus of the frenzy that possessed him when their lips touched. A kiss was a kiss was a kiss, and it somehow still burned him, set off a chain reaction, a cascade of signals that begged for stimulation, that urged him on with a ferocity that just couldn’t be matched. Sirius never stopped being something Remus needed.

“We should probably save the rest for upstairs,” Sirius murmured as Remus’ hands slipped under his shirt.

Frustrated, he tore himself away. “Yeah.”

They rushed up the rest of the stairs, hearts racing, and nearly fell through the door in their hurry. It was only when he heard a high-pitched shriek that Remus looked up, one hand on Sirius’ shoulder, the other on the doorknob, to find what awaited them.

Lily was there on the bed—James’ bed—in nothing but a bra, her skirt pushed up her hips to reveal the lace of her underwear beneath. She was currently straddling James’ lap, an expression of pure mortification written across her features.

Remus and Sirius hastily jumped away from each other as James sat up with a startled—albeit slightly delayed—yelp of his own, pushing Lily behind him at once.

“Oh, hey there, fellas…”

Notes:

My oh my these two. I didn’t expect the last scene to be so long but I got them alone (you’re welcome) and then they just wouldn’t shut up.

Also, I’m not even sure that’s how you’re supposed to play war, but whatever. Neither is Remus.

Okay, I can’t keep my eyes open anymore, goodnight <3 don’t let the bed bugs bite (yes, I’m aware it could be morning for you).

Chapter 37: unwelcome confessions

Summary:

sirius’ bday continued: awkward moments + a trip to the astronomy tower

You said at the party that I was too drunk

I told you I liked you, you said, "Sober up"

But why would I lie? It's so clear I'm in love

With you

A tense conversation, you like someone else

I say, "If I waited, could that maybe help?"

You told me that patience won't change how you felt

For me

So I'll stop being pretentious and loathing our friendship

You taught me a lesson that love isn't precious

It's not like the novels, no Pride and Prejudice at all

~Conan Gray (Footnote)

 

Walking in on James and Lily in the rather compromising position he and Sirius had found them in was something Remus never wanted to repeat sober. There was little that made him more uncomfortable than others experiencing discomfort—he had enough of that awkwardness by himself. Still, under the influence of firewhiskey and fruit punch, stumbling upon Lily and James in bed together, caught like deer in the headlights, was quite laughable.

What was even more laughable was Sirius’ reaction. Sirius stood slack-jawed, eyes bulging out of his head like a tree frog as he gawked at James, who was giving a sort of halfhearted grimace, his hand held out in front of Lily as if to protect her from the indecency that was their eyes. He looked just as disappointed to be interrupted as Remus felt at having interrupted them.

Blood still hot, the taste of Sirius sharp on his tongue, Remus tried to block the useless supply of fantasies running through his brain.

“Hi, sorry to…” he croaked into the stilted silence.

This seemed to jolt Sirius out of his shocked stance. “Yes, our dearest—” He muffled a giggle with the back of his hand, coughing slightly. “Apologies.”

Sirius began backing away towards the door, feeling behind him vaguely for the doorknob. Following his lead, Remus shuffled awkwardly backward.

“Have fuuuun!” sang Sirius.

Watching as Lily’s eyes narrowed, her seething gaze practically drilling holes in his skull, Remus suddenly found himself seriously fearing for Sirius’ life. 

Unfortunately, their escape attempt was premature. 

“Wait, what were you two doing up here?” James asked, straightening his glasses so he could scrutinise them properly.

“Yes, what were you two doing?” Lily asked pointedly, her claws retracting slightly as the original shock of their appearance lessened and she was taken out of the spotlight. Remus avoided her eyes, the knowing upturn of her smile, hating himself for letting her in with her invasive notions of friendship—all that ‘knowing each other’ nonsense. 

“We…” Sirius began, scratching his head and glancing sideways at Remus. His hair was a little frazzled, cheeks a bit flushed. Remus couldn't imagine that he looked much better. He hoped it wasn’t as evident to the others as it was to him.

“We, my friends, are grabbing…” Remus strode over to his side of the room, pulling out his bedside drawer and producing a small, hastily-wrapped box. “Padfoot’s birthday present.”

He tossed the box to Sirius, who promptly fumbled it between his fingers. The package landed at his feet with a soft thud.

“Pads!” Remus half-shouted, shooting him a reproving frown. “It’s breakable.”

“What?!” Sirius yelped, bending down quickly to pick it up. “Then why’d you chuck it at me like that?”

“I did not chuck it. I tossed it. Very gently might I add.” Remus held back the ridiculous urge to giggle.

“You chucked it.”

“Didn’t.”

“Did.”

James cleared his throat.

Remembering himself, Remus hurried across the room, arms at his sides. He caught Sirius’ eye, and nearly lost it at how his cheeks were puffed up, clearly holding back laughter.

“Alright. Carry on as you were,” said Remus, giving an awkward salute before urgently motioning Sirius out the door.

“Not a word of this, you two! Are we understood?” Called Lily, just before they’d managed to escape.

Remus leaned back inside the room, the old door creaking beneath his weight on the doorknob. He winked. “Yes, Ma'am. Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Apparently feeling like stirring the pot, Sirius pushed past him, grinning mischievously. “Not a word, huh?” he asked. “Or what?”

Quick as a whip, Lily clapped back, eyebrows raised high enough to rival Professor McGonagall. “Or, Mr. Black,” she said, causing Remus to snort with amusement. “I’ll tell James what I discovered on my rounds last Thursday.”

James whipped around, fixing her with a look reminiscent of a kicked puppy, then pinning Sirius with that same look. “What did you discover on your rounds last Thursday?”

“Beats me,” Remus said, pushing a stunned Sirius back through the door. “Carry on as you were.”

“And Marlene wants her shirt back!” Lily yelled before it closed behind them.

She sure knew how to come out on top.

Chuckling to himself at the sort of double entendre, Remus turned to Sirius. “Alright, shall we?”

“What did Lily discover on her rounds?” asked Sirius, frowning slightly. “And why did she think I would care?”

“Ah, never mind that,” said Remus, waving it away. “That Lily Evans thinks she knows everything. She doesn’t.”

Sirius looked unconvinced.

“Does she know that Prongs used to practice kissing in the mirror?” asked Remus.

Sirius snorted. “Suppose not.”

“Does she know she and James are shagging on the same bed we shagged on?”

Sirius glanced at him, a sly smirk climbing up his face—one Remus imagined was nearly identical to his.

He bit his lip.

Sirius snickered.

And then they were both collapsing into giggles again. 

“Oh,” Sirius gasped, nearly losing his balance. He let his weight press into Remus’ side. “I can’t—”

Remus shook his head, unable to speak he was laughing so hard. The funnier part was that it wasn’t actually how it sounded. Truth be told, Remus still had no idea how it had come about in the first place. All he knew was that one evening, he’d returned late from the library to find his and James’ mattresses hovering in the air, Sirius instructing as James and Peter levitated them to opposite sides of the room. Too tired to care, he’d paid them no mind, heading straight for the bathroom. When he’d emerged, silently praying for peace and quiet, he’d found James fluffing up his pillow, clean sheets tucked neatly into his bed.

“You’re all idiots,” Remus said now as he caught his breath, hands on his knees.

“What? You didn’t appreciate the mattress upgrade?”

“Mattress upgrade?”

“Nah, nothing,” Sirius brushed him off. “Anyway, s’not my fault Prongs overestimates your innocence.”

Remus knocked him with his shoulder, earning a devilish grin in return. 

“He finally wooed her,” Sirius said, shaking his head in wonder—the way one might say, ‘They finally cured cancer’. “I can’t believe it.”

“I know,” said Remus, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. It was truly an impressive feat.

“And here I thought it’d take another five years at least.”

Remus gasped in disbelief for their friend. “The betrayal. Did Prongs know that?”

“He thought it was two.”

“Ah.”

They both turned back to the door. The room beyond was silent, Remus realised. Almost unnaturally so.

Sirius patted the doorframe, leaning his forehead against the dark wood. “Have fun, Prongsie. Have fun.”

“It’s lucky Lily has better things to do or you’d be dead after that comment,” said Remus, elbowing him.

“What?” Sirius asked, eyeing him reproachfully. “I just wished them a good time. Nothing wrong with a little courtesy.”

“Ah, yes, very courteous of you, Pads. My bad. I forgot you’re a gentleman now.”

Sirius nodded, that dangerous glint back in his eye.

Uh oh. 

He leaned in, and Remus braced himself, hand flying to the wall for support as Sirius’ lips brushed against him, teeth scraping ever so lightly along his ear.

Remus let out a shaky breath, instantly weak in the knees.

“Yes, I am,” Sirius whispered. And then, abruptly, he pulled back. “Now come on, Moony! I’ve a present to open, haven’t I?”

****

They ended up on the Astronomy Tower, wanting to get far away from any stray partygoers. The temperature had dropped since that afternoon, and rain was falling lightly outside the enclosure, droplets softly pattering on the roof above their heads. Sirius had cast a warming charm around them, not that Remus needed it. He felt like he was burning up, the ghost of Sirius’ breath, his teeth, still hot on his skin.

“Why am I disappointed?” Sirius was saying as he examined the present in his hands, tilting it this way and that. “I was hoping you were going to give me something that didn’t fit in a box.”

Remus raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you know I’ve always dreamt of having a pegasus for a pet. Companion. Whatever you call it,” Sirius shrugged apathetically, before glancing at Remus. “What? Oh, is that not what you thought I’d say?”

“Actually,” Remus said, feigning ignorance. “I thought it was a hippogriff.”

“Ah, see, it was,” Sirius told him, eyes dancing roguishly. “It was a hippogriff originally, but then Reggie said I’d probably insult it accidentally, and we all know how that would end.”

“Ah. Yeah, maybe for the best,” said Remus, careful not to react. He could’ve counted on one hand the number of times Sirius had mentioned his brother over the past year.

“Anyway,” Sirius said, expression clouding over briefly before he shook it out, flashing Remus a lopsided grin. “Let’s do this thing.”

Remus settled back against the wall, crossing a leg to reduce the strain on his muscles. The buzz from the alcohol had begun to dissipate. But the buzz of his anticipation, haunting him since their unfinished card game back in the common room, remained, pending, as Sirius moved with deliberate slowness, pondering his birthday gift as if he were unaware of the effect he had.

“Hmm, what could it possibly be?” Sirius wondered aloud, lips turning up at the corner as he noticed Remus watching him. He held the box up to his ear, shaking it gently.

“Just bloody open it already,” Remus urged.

Sirius frowned in disapproval. “Moony, presents are meant to be savoured. Guessing is part of the fun.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Fine. You have three guesses before I’m chucking your present off the tower. And yes, I mean actually chucking this time.”

Sirius tutted, pursing his lips. “Now that would just be a waste.”

Remus nodded sagely. “It would.”

Still, he would do it if Sirius didn’t let up, and soon. It was impolite, really. Disrespectful. The way his leg pressed against his, foot nudging Remus’ foot periodically. His hair, slightly wild, the distracting way he chewed his lip, like he was deep in thought… Remus swore it was exaggerated for his benefit, for the sole purpose of his undoing; there was no way Sirius was thinking that hard right now.

“You said that it was delicate…” Sirius prompted, tracing a finger along the edge of the dark-blue wrapping paper.

“Hmm…”

“It doesn’t sound delicate.”

“Yes, well, it’s delicate in a way,” Remus replied evasively.

“And in what way is that?”

“In that… it breaks if you bite into it.”

Sirius looked up, features creasing with a suspicious frown. “You wanker, is it chocolate?”

“Open it and find out,” Remus grinned coyly.

Finally, Sirius tore into the paper, making quick work of Remus’ wrapping job. Tossing the paper aside, he took hold of the lid of the box and gently lifted it.

Instantly, Sirius’ face lit up. “I knew it!”

It was indeed a box of chocolates. The truffles were unique, each with a different shape and texture, and individually placed in ruffled paper cups. Remus had snuck out one evening to pick them up from Honeydukes, making good use of the witchhump tunnel, as he liked to call it. He tried not to think about the wolf-shaped truffle, which he’d just so happened to leave right next to the dog one.

“Moony, you got me chocolates?” Sirius smiled, immediately plucking a cherry-shaped truffle from the box and popping it in his mouth. “Oh my god!” he moaned in delight. “How in Merlin’s name did you manage not to eat all these?”

“Was saving them…” said Remus, mouth watering as Sirius’ tongue darted out, swiping over his lips. “Oh, and you should know, they’re edible chocolates.”

Sirius arched an eyebrow, doubtfully. “Isn’t all chocolate edible?”

“Well, supposedly. But not all chocolate has weed in it,” Remus told him matter-of-factly.

Sirius' eyes widened in understanding. “Oh ho ho! So these are very special chocolates!”

“Something like that. I infused them with the stuff from the greenhouses,” Remus explained casually, accepting a frog-shaped truffle when Sirius offered the box to him. “Think that might be my new business.”

He knew the gift had run the risk of seeming like he cared too much, but the truth was: Remus cared too much.

“Ingenious, Moony. Best entrepreneur I’ve met,” said Sirius fondly. Then, seeming to realise something, he said: “Wait, so am I your test subject?”

“Suppose you could say that. Being after me, that is.”

Remus hadn’t been entirely sure how strong the chocolates would be. He’d tested them out for himself a few days before, bored when the other Marauders had been out, not that he’d admit that, of course, lest it go to their heads. Overall, he’d had a wonderfully relaxing evening, entertaining himself by producing bubbles with his wand and seeing how far they could float before they popped. In his opinion, the truffles were only mildly hallucinogenic and unlikely to cause discomfort or sudden death.

Sirius beamed at Remus like being one of his lab rats was something to take pleasure in. “Whatever did I do to deserve that, Moons?”

Remus shrugged, relieved he’d managed to weave the story in his favour. “You were extra annoying this year.”

“Extra annoying?!” Sirius cried in outrage. “I would’ve thought my snogging skills improved my ranking.”

“Oh, they did.”

Sirius leaned in, poking him in the chest with an accusatory finger. “Now that is just rude. Very very rude.”

Remus caught his arm between his grasp, holding him there. He’d had enough. Sirius was touching him, and he’d had enough.

The indignant look on Sirius’ face slipped away, replaced by a hard stare, focused, intentful. Remus held the stare, dark pupils taking hold of him, pulling him off that precipice until he fell, drawn into Sirius like his own personal black hole. Remus didn’t fight it. He’d let Sirius have all of him, even if that left him carved out and hollow, a shell of a person, soul sucked away with a kiss. Even if, in the end, there was nothing left of him but dust.

Sirius hummed softly, a lovely, eager sound, like there was no danger there, like every touch wasn’t a trap, and Remus believed it again. 

When their lips met, the warning bells sounded celebratory.

Sirius’ lips were soft, like velvet, and Remus let himself sink into him—into the kiss, getting lost in it. Sirius’ hands buried themselves in his hair, mouth falling open, and Remus tasted the candy that had melted on his tongue, cherry and chocolate. He could feel the need rise in Sirius like a wave, energy and desperation, crashing with his own keen desire, nearly knocking his breath away with its intensity. Gripping Sirius’ collar, Remus tugged him closer, a bit rougher than he’d intended. Sirius made that lovely sound again, deeper this time, like it had been drawn out of him without his direction.

“Moony, I want you.”

Remus sucked in a breath. Those words did something to him. Those words drove him mad.

You have me, he thought feverishly, as they pulled at each other’s clothes, discarding their shirts carelessly behind them. You have me. You’ve always had me.

“You’re too far,” said Sirius, grabbing at his hips and trying to pull him closer.

Remus had other ideas.

“I said I’d make you feel special, didn’t I…?”

“I—” Sirius blinked at him, bare chest heaving. He was so beautiful, Remus had the urge to pinch himself, half convinced this was all a figment of his imagination. 

He let his hands wander like he’d wanted to, working the button on Sirius’ jeans. “What, you don’t believe me?”

“No, I-I do,” Sirius breathed, nodding fervently. “I believe you. You can do anything you put your—Ah!”

Remus' hand slipped beneath the band of his pants, travelling lower, lower, lower until Sirius gasped, hand coming up to grip Remus by the shoulder.

“Moony.”

It was said on a breath, again right into his ear. Remus wanted…

“Say my name,” he urged, tugging at Sirius’ jeans. “My real name.”

A moment later, he was looking up at him, hands spread on either side of Sirius’ hips as he held him down. Sirius whined in impatience, and Remus took it as a sign.

He heard the thud of Sirius’ head hitting the wall behind him.

“Fuck, Remus!”

****

“I think I might be high.”

Remus glanced over to Sirius, next to him on the floor. He was slumped against the wall, clothes rumpled, body almost completely still—a state one did not often find him in. His eyes were a bit glazed—unfocused—as if he were half there and half elsewhere, floating through the atmosphere of another planet. If his hair had been messy before, it now looked like he’d gone for a hayride. Remus supposed that was one word for it.

“You look like you might be high,” he said offhandedly.

The box of chocolates set between them was more than half empty. Filled with that low-grade simmer of pleasure and warm feelings, all to do with the boy at his side, Remus had helped himself to two more truffles, one caramel and one praline. Sirius had taken three.

“Uh ohhh, Moonyyy,” Sirius reached out, hand finding his leg. He patted him once, twice—an accompaniment to the stuttering beat of Remus’ heart. “The rooms’re spinning.”

“Rooms?” Remus asked, blinking down at Sirius’ hand, resting there on his leg.

“Yeahhhhh.”

Uh oh indeed.

Remus supposed it wasn’t unreasonable to assume that the effects of the chocolates were somewhat more potent when alcohol was already involved. He also imagined that Sirius’ notorious lightweightedness did not help the situation.

“D’you think it’d help if I closed my eyes?” Sirius mumbled, hand sliding slowly back to the floor.

“Don’t think so.”

Sirius made a soft sound of protest before falling silent again.

Remus turned his eyes to the platform’s edge, where droplets of rain were falling from the drain pipe, trickling continuously as the clouds continued to spill onto the land below. There was so much land, an expanse of dark green stretching out as far as the eye could see. Remus felt like the smallest fish in a big, blue sea, irrelevant, like maybe nothing truly mattered—whether he swam undisturbed the rest of his life or was eaten by a shark tomorrow.

“It doesn’t work.”

Sirius’ voice broke through his realisation, a bit sullen, disappointed-sounding.

“What doesn’t work?”

“Closing your eyes,” Sirius moaned. “Still spins.”

“That’s what I said,” Remus frowned. People would’ve saved so much time if they just listened to him.

“Yeah, you were right.” Sirius giggled quietly, touching his lips like he’d surprised himself. “I’m so high, Moony.”

“I can tell.”

Sirius laughed again, a carefree, joyous sound that echoed around the tower like wind chimes. He sounded happy. Remus was slowly slipping down a slope in the opposite direction.

“Don’t fall asleep. I will leave you here,” he promised, wondering why the drugs weren’t working the way they were supposed to. Then, through a break in the clouds, he caught sight of the moon; looming there in wait, its silvery face was wide, nearly full.

Oh, right.

“Heyyyy,” Sirius was saying. He slumped sideways, shoulder pressing into Remus’ side, his body warm in the way only an intoxicated person could be. “You’re mean when you’re high.”

“And you’re stupid,” said Remus. In all honesty, he felt a bit mean just then.

Sirius pouted, crossing his arms. “What did I just say?” he huffed. His knuckles brushed the back of Remus’ arm.

“S’better than stupid.”

Remus saw him shake his head, hair bouncing back and forth in his periphery. He was just wondering whether he should take another chocolate when he heard his name again, or a new variation of it.

“Moonnhh?”

“Mm?”

Suddenly, Sirius moved in close, leaning into him, warm breath falling against his neck. Goosebumps erupted down his arms as Remus felt a finger poke his cheek. “You’re pretty,” Sirius said softly—almost soft enough that he didn’t hear it.

“Thanks, Pads,” Remus answered uncertainly. What else was he supposed to say?

“You're welcome.” Sirius sniffed, pressing his forehead into Remus’ shoulder.

Remus held very still, and Sirius stayed there, breathing in and out. He could feel his lips against his arm, tickling him through the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

“I really like you, Moons.”

Remus stiffened, blood somehow zinging and going cold at the same time. He hadn’t said that. There was no way he’d just said that.

“What?” he asked, hardly daring to breathe. 

Sirius let out a long exhale through his nose. “What?”

“I—what you said.”

“What, that I like you?”

“Yeah.” Remus pulled back so suddenly that Sirius had to catch himself with a hand to stop from face-planting. “Please don’t—you shouldn’t say that, Sirius.”

Sirius pouted, blinking up at him, precariously unsteady where he was balanced. “Why not?”

“Because,” Remus told him, heart pounding. His head was still foggy, but he knew what he knew—even if he couldn’t say it out loud.

Because it doesn’t mean the same to you as it does to me.

“S’not a reason,” said Sirius, displeased.

“Because you just finished telling me how high you are.”

Sirius humphed, slurring his next words until they almost sounded like a different language. “I can tell my best mates I like them if I want to.”

“Fine. Go find James then.”

“Don’t wanna find James.”

Remus shrugged coldly. “Well then, you’re out of luck.”

He pulled away completely, bitterness and anger creeping in like poison, icing his veins until he was shivering, the heating charm Sirius had cast around them long gone.

“Let’s go. I’m tired,” he said, picking up the box of chocolates before he stood, just to put distance between them.

Sirius tilted his head, eyelids heavy as he stared up at him. He looked so small, arms wrapped around his knees, his features almost angelic in the weak light of the moon.

“Moony?” repeated Sirius, voice barely a whisper.

Remus said nothing. He had nothing to say; words stuck in the back of his throat, jammed there like he was choking. Jerking his head to the stairs, he descended them without waiting to see whether Sirius would follow.

Notes:

Damn, I kinda made myself sad at the end there. Blame Conan Gray. He did it. But don’t blame our poor boys :( they didn’t know any better.

Thanks for reading x

Chapter 38: the truth hurts

Summary:

sirius wonders what he’s missing

Notes:

I’ve got a Fearless song for you all today, but I'm really in my Speak Now era. Just thought that was important to note.

Was I out of line?

Did I say something way too honest, made you run and hide

Like a scared little boy

I looked into your eyes

Thought I knew you for a minute, now I'm not so sure

So here's to everything coming down to nothing

Here's to silence, that cuts me to the core

Where is this going? Thought I knew for a minute, but I don't anymore

~Taylor Swift (Forever & Always)

 

Sirius Black was a fool, an absolute atrocity of a fool. He had no idea what had possessed him to act so rashly, so impetuously, to have the nerve to expect anything other than to be completely shut down. For Merlin’s sake, this was Remus they were talking about. He shouldn’t have expected anything else.

It wasn’t like he’d planned the embarrassment of a confession he’d thrown on Remus, not like he’d thought it through in any way, shape, or form. If he had—if he’d taken even one moment to think, Sirius would have known that the words that had come out of his mouth next would haunt him for—the way he saw it in this moment, holding his head in his hands and cursing himself senseless in the privacy of the dormitory bathroom—quite possibly all of eternity.

Stupid, lovely Moony with his easy smile and laced chocolates. Those chocolates and that wicked mouth had been his downfall. They’d made him feel things he couldn’t control, until he was watching Remus, heart so swollen he swore it might burst in his chest as he repeated the mantra: it’s passion, it’s passion, it won’t last, it’s just passion. And then his mind had become too clouded to hold the thought, a lavender haze of chocolate and Moony, and Sirius had betrayed himself like he always did.

“Je ne prendrai plus jamais de drogue,” Sirius muttered, rubbing his palms against his eyelids.

“Pads, you okay in there?” came James’ voice from outside the door.

Cursing again, Sirius pushed himself off the bathroom’s tiled floor, head pounding something awful. Taking one more moment for himself, he met his reflection in the mirror, giving a stern nod before pulling the door wide to face his best friend.

The concern in James’ eyes was unbearable, and Sirius nearly broke under his sincerity. He bit his cheek hard. “Hi, what’s up?” he asked.

“I don’t know, mate, but you look miserable,” said James, regarding him worriedly.

“‘M not,” Sirius lied, doing a once-over of the dormitory. No Peter. And no Remus. “Just hungover.”

“I’ve heard that one before.”

Sirius cracked a pained smile. That was a fair statement.

“Alright, well, glad to hear you’re not miserable. Still, you may not be sad, but I am, so please, hugs?” James asked, dropping his chin and pouting at him convincingly.

“Je ne te crois pas,” said Sirius, trying to brush past him. “And by the way, your puppy-dog eyes haven’t gotten any better.”

“Ah ha—” James exclaimed, ignoring the jab. “You speak gibberish when you’re sad. I know you, Pads.”

“You are wrong on two accounts, my friend,” said Sirius, patting him on the shoulder.

James seized his opportunity. “Take my loveeee,” he cried, circling him with his arms spread wide, waiting patiently for Sirius to accept. “Before I implode in a puddle of sadness!”

Sirius took in his pathetic, sad eyes, his half smile as he motioned him in. How could he say no to that?

Shaking his head, he gave in, stepping into James’ waiting embrace. The force of his love nearly crushed him, arms squeezing tight around him, and Sirius breathed in that James Potter scent, eucalyptus and cardamom and warmth.

How did you know I needed this? He thought as he let it all envelop him, biting his tongue to stop the confession from falling from his lips again. It was still there, just waiting to be heard. To be accepted. But, no—he’d learned his lesson the first time.

The creak of the door opening startled them, and Sirius stepped back, rearranging his features.

“What’s going on here?” asked Peter, and Sirius focused on him resolutely, refusing to let his eyes shift to the boy standing behind him with his arms crossed. “Group hug without me?”

“A group hug is only a group hug if more than two people are involved, Wormy,” reminded Sirius. “You can’t hug yourself.”

“Sure you can,” said James, throwing an arm around his shoulders and squeezing again. “I do it all the time.”

“Aw, Prongsie, I’m sorry, mate, I didn’t realise you were so deprived,” said Sirius.

“I told you I was very sad.”

“Yeah, I believe you now.”

James nodded solemnly before saying, “No, but actually, hugging yourself is a sign of maturity and inner peace.”

“Oh yeah? Where’d you hear that bullocks? Your mum?”

“Newt Scamander,” James sniffed.

Sirius burst out laughing. “Well, of course, he’d say that. You would, too, if your only friends were animals.”

“I happen to think that Scamander bloke and I would get along,” said Remus, shucking off his shoes and ruining Sirius’ two-minute streak of not staring at him.

“Well, yeah, all your friends are animals too, aren’t they, Moony?” said Peter, eyeing James and Sirius pointedly.

Remus chuckled. “Suppose you’re right, Pete.”

He was acting so normal, so different from the Moony of the previous night, the one who could barely look him in the eye.

“Excuse me!” Sirius protested, making every effort to do the same. “Who are you calling an animal?”

“But you are an animal,” said Peter as he hurried around his bed, collecting his textbooks for the coming afternoon and switching out the others from his bag. “You’re a literal dog.”

“It’s better than a rat.”

“Hey! Enough of the rat slander. Rats are perfectly respectable creatures.”

“Yeah, yeah. You keep telling yourself that.”

“Pads,” James tutted. “Just because you’re down in the dumps doesn’t mean you have to hate on Wormy.”

Sirius’ stomach plummeted.

“Godric!” he ripped himself out of his grasp. “For the last time, Prongs, I’m bloody hungover!”

Turning away to hide the anguish he feared he could not disguise, he threw open his wardrobe, pretending to scrounge his hangers for something. He wanted to crawl into the back of the closet and stay there, but that was not something emotionally balanced, hungover Sirius would do; fake-searching would have to suffice.

“Sorry,” he heard James whisper from somewhere behind him.

Sirius didn’t respond.

Leave it to Prongs to expose him without even knowing it, without having any idea the significance behind that statement, how damning his entirely accurate assessment had been. Sirius couldn’t imagine what Remus was thinking right now.

Actually, maybe he could. 

Idiot idiot idiot, was the new mantra in Sirius’ head, as he listened to Remus’ careful footsteps around his bed, feeling him there without seeing, that blazing heat that emitted off him nearly painful.

He thinks you’re weird, his brain supplied, cruel but honest. You made things weird.

It wasn’t as if Sirius wasn’t satisfied. It wasn’t like being with Moony; kissing him, touching him, being kissed and touched in return, wasn’t enough. It was everything he’d been longing for. The closeness he’d been missing over the last year, that feeling of lacking in every distant conversation and dismissive cold shoulder, had been filled. There was nothing left to need. So, where had that sappy confession come from? What more could Sirius possibly want?

****

The rest of the day went much as Sirius suspected it would. He reluctantly joined the others for lunch, thanks to an insistent James who, despite his uncharacteristic patience that morning, would not let him skip another class. The four of them sat down to eat, Remus choosing the spot diagonal from him. This would normally have been when their feet would knock together, and Sirius would catch his eye, taking delight in how he hid a smile in his cup of tea. They’d make a game of it, see who could be more discreet and who could get a reaction out of the other. Sirius almost always lost, the swooping in his stomach too strong to handle. But with Remus so far, there was no such game to be played, and an unpleasant churning replaced the butterflies of yesterday, the sensation only worsening as time passed. Eventually, Sirius had to push his food away; even the chicken soup he’d served himself couldn’t settle the nausea.

Next came Charms class, which Sirius already dreaded under normal circumstances. He’d glimpsed a small sliver of hope as they’d all filed into class and Professor Flitwick reminded them to turn in the final draft of their assignment. Still, even so, Remus had latched onto the Simon boy immediately, making no move to rejoin the rest of the Marauders at the back of the class. Sirius hadn’t bothered to hold back his scoff, earning an unsurprised eye roll from James, who, by this point, was used to Sirius’ usual Charms-induced moodiness.

They were usually pretty quiet at the front of the class, Remus and the goody two-shoes who shared his desk. Sirius often wondered whether Simon couldn’t take a hint; he was always crowding into Remus’ space, breathing down his neck. He imagined Moony was probably too nice to be honest, to do what Sirius would’ve done and say, ‘Hey! Back the fuck off you clingy son of a bitch! No one likes you.’ 

But today, Remus seemed just as interested in Simon as Simon was in him. And it was killing Sirius.

As Flitwick finished collecting the papers, Remus nudged the other boy. Simon looked up eagerly—too eagerly—like a dog with a toy, ready to please its owner.

Leaning in close, Remus cupped a hand around his ear and whispered something. Sirius remembered how Moony had shivered when he’d done that same thing to him, only the night before; it felt like ages ago now. Had Remus thought of him when he’d done it? Had he grown hot with the memory? Or was he simply enjoying the way Simon’s cheeks stained pink?

Sirius was vaguely aware of the class starting, but Flitwick’s instructions might as well have fallen on deaf ears. Remus and Simon settled in, shoulders nearly touching as they listened to their professor, and all Sirius could do was stare. 

When the class broke out into group work, it only became more obvious. They were laughing together, giggling, the way he and Moony had done—the way they were supposed to do.

It was wrong. It was all wrong.

“Pads.”

Sirius mumbled a useless non-response, uninterested. Simon’s shoe inched closer to Remus’ beneath the desk.

“Paddifoot…”

Sirius watched as Remus peered across their desk, inspecting Simon’s work. It was pathetic, he thought, how noticeably the boy’s shoulders tensed, his gaze scanning Moony’s profile hungrily. Sirius cracked his knuckles, ignoring the feeling of something feathery brushing his cheek.

“Ssssirius…”

Sirius probably should have felt guilty or embarrassed when—turned as he was in his seat, Simon caught him looking—but he didn’t. He didn’t care, not one bit. He tried to convey that, on the off chance that it sent him running. His shamelessness. His determination. That he would not hesitate to take him out, if he had the chance. But then, like a teacher’s pet telling on his classmates, Simon nudged Remus, and Sirius found himself gripping his desk as a second pair of eyes, amber like melted honey, fell on him.

A thousand feelings swept over him as their gazes locked—a thousand things he might’ve said. I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry, he tried to say, but he knew his own eyes didn’t match the sentiment. I’m sorry, I meant it, he told him without saying anything at all.

Moony’s eyes held everything but the truth.

Swatting at the insistent tickling to his cheek, Sirius ripped his gaze away at last and turned to face his best friend. James was already looking at him, eyebrows raised expectantly, quill poised inches in front of Sirius’ face.

“Can I help you?” Sirius snapped.

“Why yes, in fact, you can, Padfoot. You see, we’re supposed to be researching nonverbal spells and you, my friend,” James bopped him with the end of his quill. “Have done nothing whatsoever to contribute.”

Sirius sighed, eyeing their shared parchment scroll, which was already half-filled with James’ rushed cursive. “My bad.”

He glanced back at Remus, bent over his work next to Simon, scribbling away, perfectly unaffected.

“Padfoot.”

“What?” Sirius asked irritably.

Shaking his head at him, James smiled faintly. “Don’t you remember what we’ve talked about?”

“What?”

He took his hand, eyes growing serious.

“Okay, save the proposal for the misses,” Sirius said warily.

James huffed a laugh at that, drifting off briefly with that dreamy, infatuated expression Sirius had been seeing on him since second year.

Speaking of…

“You better have a good explanation as to why last night is the first I hear of this,” Sirius told him, pointing a finger. “Or, see of this, more like…”

James wiggled his eyebrows. “I do,” he assured him. “Lily hates you, and she asked me to join the club, so I did. Welcome to homelessness.”

“Uh–! Excuse me?!” Sirius just about shrieked in protest.

“Excuse yourself,” James laughed, dodging Sirius’ vengeful slap. “And don’t change the subject.”

“Bitch—” Sirius waved his hand in what he thought was a very accurate imitation of Mary. “I don’t even know what the subject was.”

Tittering to himself, James said, “Well, you should remember.”

Sirius gave him a look. “Yes, well, unfortunately, I don’t. So, please. Enlighten me.”

Beckoning him closer, James nodded slowly, enunciating as if he were explaining something to a small child. “Moony’s allowed other friends.”

Sirius jerked back, crossing his arms in offence. He did recall hearing those words before. They didn’t settle with him any better than they had the first time. “Gods! Prongs, I know. Merlin.”

James clicked his tongue. “See, but I don’t think you do.”

“‘Course I do. Moony has plenty of other friends. Do you see me intervening?”

Plenty of friends. Lots. All of whom wanted to snog him senseless. 

“Mm, but that’s not really the same thing, is it?” James argued.

“Yeah?? What do you mean?”

James sighed. “Pads, I love you, but you are staring at that boy like you want to kill him and then toss his body into the English Channel.”

Sirius spluttered. “I am not.”

“You are.”

“Well, he’s alive, is he not?”

“For now,” James muttered darkly.

Sirius exhaled loudly, eyes drifting back to the front of the class. Remus pointed to his textbook, animatedly explaining something to an enthralled Simon.

Hell. It was only Charms, Merlin’s sake.

“Pads, is there something going on between you and Moony?”

He froze.

No, no no no no. Not this again. Please, anything but this.

“What do you mean?” he asked, resisting the urge to clutch his chest, just to be sure he wasn’t having another heart attack.

James pondered this unhurriedly, like Sirius’ whole world wasn’t on the line. “Like… are you guys in a fight? You’re both being weird today. Honestly, you’re weird a lot of days, but I don’t know, are you?”

He relaxed—partially.

“We’re… not fighting,” Sirius told him. Truthfully, he didn’t know what they were. 

James cocked his head, a frown creasing his brow. “You sure?”

“Yeah, it was just a… minor misunderstanding.” He shrugged.

James smiled. “Okay, well, sort it out then,” he said easily.

Sort it out. 

Right, yeah. Sort it out. He could do that.

He would apologise. That was it. He would make it right. If there was any chance of salvaging what they had, he would take it. And this time, he would let things lie, leave it be. He would hold his tongue and stop letting his subconscious get in his way. Sirius’ subconscious didn’t know what was good for him. It didn’t know what he wanted. It was deceitful; a trick of the light, and he was led astray, spewing confessions like tea readings, nonsensical prophecies and life lines. Remus had never taken divination, but Sirius could make him understand. He would untangle it all, show him how it could all be rationalised, explain his brief trip into delusion until short life expectancies and long-lost loves became old hat.

Until the words ‘I really like you’ were as likely as the Grimm.

****

Sirius couldn’t peg Remus down all day. He’d tried catching his eye before dinner, and then again afterwards as they’d climbed back up to the common room, but Remus was steadfast on avoiding him.

This left him one option.

Listening for the steady breathing that signified that the others were asleep, Sirius crept across the dormitory, his heart hammering, but not for the usual reasons. This time, the nervous excitement was replaced by plain old nerves, his fight-or-flight system screaming at him to turn back, terrified to be rejected before he could explain.

Steeling himself, he called out into the darkness, like a sailor in a storm, pleading for his prayers to be answered.

The only response was the rushing in his ears, waves crashing, threatening to swallow him. 

He tried again. “Moony, please.” His voice broke.

Fuck, this was stupid. He was stupid. Moony was stupid.

Frustration taking hold of him, he gripped the curtains and threw them back.

The bed was empty. Sirius couldn’t decide if that was better or worse.

“Okay, okay, okay.” Nodding to himself, he patted blindly around on Remus’ desk, cringing as he nearly knocked over a glass of water.

Screw it, he thought, muttering a quick Lumos under his breath. Shining the light around, he pulled out Moony’s bedside drawer and—Ah-ha!

Grabbing the map, he spread it out on Remus’ bed, scouring it impatiently for that little flag with his name.

After some searching and a head smack at his repeated stupidity, Sirius realised Moony was in the common room. There he was, Remus Lupin, right next to the name—Sirius’ heart dropped—Simon López.

Remus Lupin. Simon López. Remus Lupin. Simon López. Remus Lupin. 

Simon.

López.

Oh, the universe hated him.

There were many instances in which Sirius cursed his family, and many reasons for which he did so. The strictness, the punishments, the lack of love and forgiveness, which had since been passed onto a lack thereof for himself. In this moment, he cursed them for the habits he couldn’t shake, the intensity with which he felt and reacted, even to the most insignificant of issues. But most of all, for his extensive, posh education, without which, he wouldn’t know what he knew.

Because Sirius was pretty sure López meant wolf, and that did not sit well with him. It didn’t sit well with him at all.

Neither did the fact that Moony was out of bed with the boy, secluded in a corner of the common room. Alone.

Gritting his teeth, Sirius threw the map down, an unforgiving rage coursing through him. He stalked across the room, forgetting to worry about the noise and ripped open the door with enough force that it slammed against the wall.

He didn’t care. All he could think about was finding them—finding that bastard and giving him a piece of his mind.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he came out at the bottom, fists clenched, ready for a fight.

They were sitting close together by the window, obviously not expecting to be interrupted. Remus was speaking in a low voice, turned away from the rest of the room. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

Simon shook his head, eyes sickeningly fond. “No, no, I’m glad you—”

“Oh!” Sirius exclaimed loudly, pausing in his steps, as if he’d simply stumbled upon them on his way to fetch a cup of tea. “What a fun surprise!”

Remus whipped around, alarm written plainly across his face.

Yeah, that’s right, Sirius thought with a twisted sense of satisfaction. Feel bad. I caught you.

“Sirius, what are you doing up?” asked Remus, standing at once, the thin blanket he’d been using falling from his lap. He was all soft and sleepy-looking, like a gangly bunny rabbit in jeans.

Yeah, I bet you like that, don’t you, Simon?

“Me? Why, I just came down to boil the kettle. You know me. Just fancied a cuppa before bed,” Sirius replied breezily.

Remus narrowed his eyes, which was fair, because when had he ever done that?

“But, please, don’t let me interrupt your cosy little chat. In fact,” Sirius grinned, feeling slightly manic. “I’d love to join! Let me just—” He grabbed the back of a nearby armchair, dragging it over to the window seat.

Remus visibly winced, glancing back and forth between him and Simon, as if he didn’t quite know what to do with the two of them both there.

So worlds collide.

“What are we talking about, hm?” Sirius pressed. “Catch me up. Girlfriends? Boyfriends? Simon, tell me, who do you think’s the best snogger in the year?”

Remus made a mildly traumatised sound of protest.

Simon, for his part, didn’t seem bothered. “I don’t know, Remus is a pretty good snogger. What do you say, Black?”

Sirius felt his face fall as his stomach, which had been twisting and turning queasily, dropped straight through the floor. “What?”

His ears were ringing. His eyes stung. Not for the first time that day, Sirius felt violently ill—ill to his very core.

He almost thought it was a joke—he would’ve, because how could he—when did he—why?

But Remus’ eyes were downcast, lips pressed into a thin line, and with a horrible sinking sensation, Sirius knew. He was just one—one of many, it seemed. There were others. He wasn’t an exception. He wasn’t the one Moony had broken his rules for. And that fire that burned inside him, that wanting that Sirius sometimes got to taste, it wasn’t just for him.

He supposed this was karma, wasn’t it? The payback for all the hearts he’d taken, broken, all the girls he’d two-timed.

It had never tasted so bitter, like ash in his mouth, grit crunching between his teeth, shards of glass he tried to spit out, but couldn’t. Instead, he had to swallow it. Live with it. That was his punishment.

“Casanova, huh?” Sirius asked hollowly, once he could speak properly.

Remus heaved a great sigh, as if he’d rather be anywhere else. 

“Could you please leave us to talk?” It took Sirius a moment to realise that the request wasn’t directed at him, but at Simon instead.

Fuck. Fuck the grace Remus was trying to give him. Fuck the kindness and the patience. Sirius could practically hear the pitying lines coming next: ‘Pads, I’m sorry, but it was never like that for me. I thought we’d agreed it was just some fun between friends.’

Yeah, screw that. Sirius wouldn’t give him the chance.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary, Sim. Can I call you Sim?” Sirius asked, grasping Simon’s sleeve and holding him there.

Simon gave a blank, unimpressed stare. For a brief second, Sirius was strangely reminded of his brother.

“Great.” He grinned so widely he was surprised his face didn’t split in half. “I suppose congratulations are in order. You know, many hope to tie down the elusive Remus Lupin, but they’ve never quite managed it, have they?”

“Oh, come off it, Sirius,” Remus cut in, taking hold of Simon’s other arm so he could lead him away.

“No, really, I’m serious. Ha—and you know I’m not lying.”

Remus groaned. 

Allowing himself to be led, Simon said, mildly, “Black, I appreciate it, but congratulations are really not necessary. Sometimes a kiss is just a kiss, isn’t that right, Remus?”

“Right,” Remus agreed, glaring over his shoulder at Sirius pointedly. “Because some people don’t have such a need for dramatics.”

“Ah, but where’s the fun in that?”

He watched Remus accompany Simon across the room, hand on his arm. They smiled privately to each other before the other boy disappeared through the portrait hole. 

Eyes blurring, Sirius blinked forcibly as Remus turned back to him.

“Tell me, Sirius,” he said, his expression stormy. “What is it that makes you act like such an arsehole sometimes?”

“Arsehole? What are you on about? I was being nice. I was a goddamn delight.”

Remus laughed disbelievingly. “That’s one word for it.”

“Simon was the one who was rude, not even accepting my congratulations.”

“Sirius—”

“Is he a good kisser?”

“Oh my god.”

“What? It was a genuine question! I’m just curious!”

“Well, don’t be!”

“I’m allowed to be curious. Seeing as I was unknowingly swapping spit with two people, not one, I’d like to know if it was at least worth it.”

Remus' eyes flashed dangerously. “Oh, like you’re the saint of purity.”

Sirius scoffed, but blazed on, like a comet on a collision course, unable to stop himself. “Why was he even here?” he demanded. “Wait, never mind, don’t answer that. I don’t wanna know.”

“Simon and I are friends,” Remus told him firmly. 

“Yeah, well, so are you and I, aren’t we?” 

Remus smiled, the bitterness of his lost argument showing through. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess we are.”

They stared at each other. Sirius had the sudden urge to surge forward and press their lips together, to rid them of this distance, to remind Moony why he’d wanted this. 

“Are you jealous? Is that what this is?” Remus finally asked.

Sirius stopped short.

“Jealous?” he repeated. “Jealous? Why the fuck would I be jealous?”

“I don’t know, but you’re certainly acting like it.” Remus pushed past him, back to the window. Sirius followed close behind.

“Well, I’m not,” he replied. He wasn’t so foolish as to admit that.

“Great, so you’re just being a prick for no reason then.”

“Guess so!”

“Brilliant!” Remus threw up his hands, spinning back around. “I don’t know why I even bother!”

“You know what, maybe I have my reasons, okay?!” Sirius shouted desperately. He didn’t know when he’d started shouting.

“Oh yeah? Then what? I’m sitting on the edge of my seat here!”

“You said this would just be between us!”

Remus paused, his hands stilling as they raked through his hair. His eyes bore into Sirius as he asked, “What do you mean?”

“I–I mean—!” Sirius cursed himself, losing his train of thought under their weight. “You said this would be our thing. Our secret,” he continued, lowering his voice momentarily, before letting it rise again. “And now you’ve bloody gone and told the entire school!”

“I didn’t tell the entire school. And come to think of it, I didn’t even tell Simon. He already knew!”

“How do you figure that?”

“I don’t know! Maybe we’re not as secretive as we thought we were!”

Sirius felt a stab of ice-cold fear shoot through him. “What, so you want to—what? Stop then?”

Lips pursing, Remus looked at Sirius in a millisecond of hesitation that nearly destroyed him.

He shouldn’t have said anything. He’d let his anger, his jealousy—there was no way of denying it, not in his head—control him. But none of that was worth the possibility of hearing Remus admit the truth, that this wasn’t something he wanted, that, though fun while it had lasted, they had reached their expiry date.

To Sirius, stopping would be unthinkable.

“I didn’t say that,” Remus answered finally. He continued to consider him, studying him closely. “Is that what you want?”

“No!” Sirius shouted at once. He cringed. “I mean, no. Not unless you—not unless that’s what you want.”

Please. 

Please, please, please.  

Miraculously—so miraculously that he had the sensation that some suggestible guardian angel somewhere had taken pity on him—Remus shook his head. “No. No, I don’t want to stop.”

Sirius released a breath.

“Okay,” he said, accepting the fragile conclusion they’d arrived at like a beam of moonlight in his hands. “Okay.”

Remus inclined his head, eyes carefully evaluating. “Okay.”

The sound of movement made them both jump.

“What in Merlin’s name is all the racket for?”

James and Peter had just emerged from the stairwell, blinking sleepily in, well, Sirius would’ve called it confusion, but neither of them appeared to be surprised in the least.

Pushing unruly hair off his forehead, James took them in one at a time with the exasperation one would give a dog who’d made a mess on the floor. “Well? Would you care to explain yourselves?”

Sirius swallowed. “You heard all that?”

Peter snorted. “Did we hear all that? I think the Slytherins in the dungeons heard all that.”

“Oh, you—oh.”

Ashamed, Sirius let his gaze fall to the ground. He couldn’t meet their eyes, not James’, not Peter’s. Not Remus’.

James stepped in, somehow knowing. “What he means is… we heard shouts. Not that anyone could actually hear what you were saying. Anyway, what woke Pete and me was you slamming the door, Padfoot.”

“Knew it,” Remus muttered.

Sirius swore, caught completely red-handed.

“Okay, new rule,” said James, passing a tired hand over his face. “You two are not allowed to be alone together within three—you know what, make it four—days of the moon.”

“I second that,” Peter said, covering a yawn.

“What? Why?” asked Sirius, much too quickly.

“Because, evidently, we can’t control ourselves,” said Remus wryly, and despite it all, Sirius felt a shiver run down his spine.

“I can control myself just fine,” he argued.

“You sure about that?” Remus taunted, anger still simmering just beneath the surface.

“Yes,” Sirius hissed, glaring at him. “I can.”

“Why don’t you prove it?”

“I’m doing that right now.”

Remus cocked an eyebrow.

“Prick,” Sirius added, for good measure.

“Nosy prick.”

“Liar.”

“Oh, I could just—”

But he didn’t find out what Remus could just do because James cleared his throat. “Guys, stop, I think it’s very clear that neither of you can control yourselves,” he said, exasperatedly. “I mean, case in point, I feel like you’re about to tear each other apart and you’re not even properly fighting anymore.”

Over his shoulder, Remus was eyeing him, that same glint of frustration there. It was always the same, and Sirius always wanted more of it.

James clapped his hands. “Okay, so it’s settled then. No Moony and Padfoot time until after the moon.”

He took their silence as agreement.

Notes:

Hahah Sirius is so dramatic. He makes me laugh, I love him.

Random piece of trivia but I used a metaphor about having to spit out glass cause our butter dish chipped and I almost swallowed some of it bahahah a real writer lives, am I right? 💀me muero

Anyway, man, I was so impatient to finish this but it took just as long as usual smh. Ah well, hope you liked!!

Chapter 39: november chill

Summary:

keepin’ it casual

You put up the walls and paint them all a shade of gray

And I stood there loving you, and wished them all away

And you come away with a great little story

Of a mess of a dreamer with the nerve to adore you

Oh, what a shame

What a rainy ending given to a perfect day

Just walk away

Ain't no use defending words that you will never say

And now that I'm sittin' here thinkin' it through

I've never been anywhere cold as you

~Taylor Swift (Cold As You)

 

Remus and Sirius stuck to James’ rules that night and the following day. They did not have any more ‘Moony and Padfoot time,’ nor did they broach the subject again. Not that they would have managed it had they tried. James was on them like a hawk, ensuring no further rows were had. He followed Sirius wherever he went, taking ‘attached at the hip’ to the next level; Sirius recounted the story at lunch of how he had insisted on accompanying him to the toilets, going as far as to peer over their adjoining stalls: 

“I mean, Christ, Potter, Moony literally had ‘COC’! You act like I’m obsessed with him or something.”

“Can you please stop calling it that?” Remus moaned, cheeks heating up as he grabbed himself another sandwich. “Just say ‘Care of Creatures’ like everyone else.”

“But it’s so much easier,” argued James. “If you don’t like our fun acronyms, don’t take the class. Pass me the cock monsieurs please.”

Rolling his eyes, Remus slid the tray toward him. “This is exactly why Lily won’t go out with you, mate.”

“Hey! That’s not nice,” James pouted. He took a sad, little bite into his sandwich, but that was about all he could do in protest, not when he and Lily were still keeping their relationship ‘on the down low.’

Just then, Marlene and Dorcas slid into the neighbouring bench. 

“Hi guys,” said Marlene brightly to a chorus of hellos. Always cool and reserved, Dorcas nodded in greeting.

“So what’s this I hear about a row in the common room? Trouble in paradise?” Marlene asked, turning to Remus. Sirius was sitting diagonal from him across the table and didn’t appear to be listening.

James certainly was. “See! See! My job as peacekeeper is more important than one would think!”

Remus ignored him. “What row? There was no row?”

“Remus, love,” said Marlene, patting his hand pityingly. “The whole common room’s talking about it. ‘Oh yeah, Black and Lupin were going at it again last night. Do they ever even sleep?’”

“Okay, let’s not,” said Remus, fixing her with a pointed glare. Dorcas’ lips twitched, but she quickly bit into a sandwich to cover it up.

He tried not to let it all bother him, that to everyone else it was a bit of a joke, something to provide entertainment, another juicy bit of gossip to add to the rumour mill. There were always speculations of what exactly it was that they argued over. Whether Sirius had taken his last cigarette or his last square of chocolate, and who had started it this time? Occasionally, Remus would pass a group of girls in the corridors and hear whispers.

“I heard Lupin called Black ugly, and that’s why they haven’t spoken in five days.”

“I heard Black shagged the girl Lupin fancied and now he’s so pissed he can’t even look at him.”

Obviously, it was all a load of rubbish.

This time, though, what especially irked Remus was that James had immediately taken Sirius’ side. Sure, he may not have outright said so—he was too nice for that—but, Remus figured, if the blame fell on the moon, where did that leave them? Sirius was a ticking time bomb waiting to go off, and Remus had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was adamant with himself about this fact, that what really had come across as a fit of jealousy was nothing more than a fit.

Okay, alright, so Sirius was allowed to be upset. Remus understood where he’d been coming from. They had agreed to keep their arrangement a secret, and—though unintentional—somewhere along the way it had escaped them. 

Now, all that wasn’t to say that Remus didn’t understand why the rule had been put in place; their rows did become much more frequent around the full moons. It was a common theme for them that their little spats built upon each other throughout the month, the tension growing with the moon, until one of them would take it too far, and it would snap. The aftereffects left Remus with whiplash for days and days.

However, unbeknownst to James, they now had a new means of releasing that tension, which, for the most part—in Remus’ opinion anyway—was very very effective. Unfortunately for James, it was neither an activity which could be performed in the presence of others, nor could it, to Remus’ dismay, solve all his problems.

Furthermore, the correlation was there, but even so, the rule irked him.

Then again, a lot of things had that effect at this time of the month. 

Sirius had that effect.

Sometimes, when Sirius was particularly Sirius—when he laughed too loudly after they kissed, or punched Remus in the arm with an overly friendly “That rocked, mate”—Remus wanted to throttle him. Sometimes, when the moon was shining big and bright in the sky, he considered it. But that thought only drove him further to insanity.

Other times, all Remus could think about was confronting him, like he had the previous night, starting a fight; it was the only time they ever actually talked with a shred of honesty.

Still, even that had only brought disappointment and frustration. It was a fool’s errand, to sit around and hope for the things he wanted, but Remus did all the same.

****

“Man, am I tired.” Sirius flopped down on the couch, sighing heavily. Arching his back over the seat cushion in a way that definitely did not give Remus flashbacks of any sort, he yawned, wriggling his feet under the thick, woollen blanket Remus had thrown over himself.

“Why’re you tired, Pads?” James asked. He was lying on the carpet at their feet, gaze fixed on some indeterminate point on the ceiling. 

“Because…” Sirius trailed off.

“Because…?”

Sirius pressed his toes into Remus’ thigh, sending a jolt of surprise—among other things—through him. “Because, someone kept me up all night…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, and Remus hadn’t the faintest idea how he would have. Lily, who was studying dutifully in a nearby armchair, coughed, but didn’t look up.

James sat up, turning to look at Sirius. His hair was flattened on one side, the other sticking up in all directions. “Kept you up all night, how exactly?”

Shifting to grab one of the many pillows balanced around him—and in doing so, sliding his foot ‘inadvertently’ higher—he lobbed it at James’ head. “With their snoring. This one,” he jabbed a thumb in Remus’ direction.

Remus managed an unintelligible sound of disagreement as James ducked, laughing. 

Finding his voice, Remus said, “If I remember correctly you’re the one who—” But Sirius’ foot slid up his leg, brushing with purpose along the sensitive skin below his hip bone. He inhaled sharply, before covering it with a cough as Lily had. 

“You okay there, Moony?” Sirius asked innocently, batting his eyelashes.

“Fine, thanks,” Remus said tightly, pressing as hard as he could with his forearm into Sirius’ foot. It stayed where it was.

Luckily, James had dropped back to the floor and wasn’t paying him any mind. Remus took the opportunity to glare at Sirius. “You’re the one who snores,” he finally finished, putting every intent behind it. You’re the one who came looking for me. How was he supposed to say no to that? When Sirius had come to his bed after a week of not doing so—a week in which Remus had nearly convinced himself it was over—and had looked at him with eyes like he was starving?

Sirius had been smiling, pleased with himself for the (pleasurous) torment he’d succeeded in giving Remus, but he frowned at his words. “I thought you didn’t mind my snoring?”

Remus shook his head. “I don’t,” he said quietly. I can’t get enough of it, actually. 

The two-layered conversations were something he didn’t think he’d ever get used to.

Casually readjusting his blanket, Remus slipped a hand underneath and found Sirius’ foot, which had stilled in his lap. He gave it a gentle squeeze, smiling shyly at him. Sirius smiled back and the fluttering butterflies took off again. Remus drifted off like that, those small points of contact enough to keep his chest warm.

He woke some time later to hushed voices: “Is he sleeping?”

“Yeah, isn’t he cute?”

“Hmm.” Though the second voice was unfamiliar, the bubbly forced tone that the girl used was everything but. “You’re cuter, though.”

Remus blinked his eyes open, rubbing sleep away. Sirius was sitting up now, feet on his own side of the couch, arm resting on the back of it in that douchey manner he adopted when he was trying to impress someone. The intruder was effortlessly graceful as she leaned over Sirius’ armrest, dark waves hanging around her face as she spoke to him.

Straightening, Remus stretched loudly.

“Look who’s finally awake,” said Sirius, noticing him stirring. He reached forward as if to ruffle Remus’ hair, but seemed to think better of it, letting his hand fall to the back of the couch. 

Remus frowned. “Who’s this?” he asked, even as he realised through the sleepy fog lifting that he did in fact know her. 

The girl smiled, sliding onto the armrest and smoothing out her skirt, which was pleated and folded up high on her waist to display her long legs. Remus couldn’t help but wonder whether Sirius missed that smooth softness that he just didn’t have. “I’m Emmeline.”

Giving a feeble grunt of acknowledgment, Remus decided, with dismay, that he’d have to give up napping.

“So, Sirius…” said Emmeline, keeping his attention on her. “You should take me out some time. There’s a Hogsmeade weekend coming up. What do you say?”

Sirius’ eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh!” He ran a hand through his hair, laughing slightly. If Remus didn’t know better he might’ve thought he was nervous.

But he did know better. This was classic Sirius—teetering on the edge of public affection with Remus one moment, only to pivot completely and start chatting up the pretty Ravenclaw girl who had caught his eye.

Sirius glanced at Emmeline, and then back to Remus, almost as if he were comparing them against each other—who did he fancy for a shag today? Or maybe, as if he were trying to say something, to ask—oh. Fuck, Remus realised. He was asking him for permission.

The anger took hold in an instant. “What are you looking at me for?” he asked sharply. “Bloody go out with her then!”

There was a beat of silence. Remus was vaguely aware of Emmeline watching them, but all he could focus on was Sirius as the uncertainty on his face cleared, replaced by a startling hardness.

He didn’t get any further reaction, no comeback or criticism, only a stiff nod and the cold shoulder that followed it as Sirius turned back to Emmeline, flashing her a dazzling smile. “I would love to take you out, Em.”

“Well, great then!” Emmeline said, looking pleased.

“Yeah. Brilliant.”

“Alright, well, let’s keep in touch about the details, yeah?”

Sirius nodded. “Sounds good.”

Hopping up, Emmeline gave a little wave before returning to her own friends.

“Be back,” Remus heard Sirius mutter as he followed suit, pushing off the couch and retreating up the stairs.

Remus stared at the spot he’d disappeared for a good few minutes, a dull sense of loss settling over him. Eventually, he closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the couch cushions, unable to decide who he hated more: Sirius or himself.

****

Sirius pulled his cloak tighter around himself, shivering against the bitter windchill. Despite the fact that November held his birthday, Sirius had always hated the month. It was a transition period, not quite fall and not quite winter, and always blustering with cold winds. To Sirius, November was reminiscent of death and decay, of endings, of a chill that reached his bones.

Or maybe that was the heartache talking.

It was beginning to feel like too much. All the feelings. The emotions. The highs and falls. Getting his hopes up, before the inevitable let down.

He’d been fairly hopeful that morning that he could turn things around. He’d put more than the usual effort into getting ready, giving himself a much needed pep talk—en Français, of course, on the off chance that a certain someone was eavesdropping at the bathroom door (“Yes, I’m talking to you, Potter!”). Then he’d forced a skip in his step and descended the stairs, ready to conquer the day. 

Emmeline was lovely as ever; she’d dressed for the weather, something that did not escape Sirius’ notice—he hated when girls purposefully forwent layers, and then expected him to give up his own. Or, heaven forbid, when they dressed in too many layers. He’d botched an otherwise perfect first date in fourth year when Louisa Molden had passed him her jacket and he’d shouted, “Christ, woman, I’m not a bloody coat rack!”

That being said, Sirius had learned a thing or two since then in the maturity department and he swore to himself that, if asked, he would oblige with said coat hanging duties. He also made sure to comment on the ribbons adorned in Emmeline’s hair, and how stunningly they matched her earmuffs—he wasn’t Mary Macdonald’s ex-boyfriend for nothing, after all.

“Thank you!” Emmeline had beamed when he’d said so. “I just love baby blue, don’t you?”

They’d departed with the rest of their friends, everyone chattering excitedly about their plans for the day, which supplies and knick-knacks they needed to stock up on. Remus had been too buried in his work to look up.

But that didn’t matter, because Sirius had other matters to attend to. He wanted this with Emmeline; he wanted to make it work, even if only on a casual basis. With Emmeline, he could have his head about him, and not feel so…  out of balance, or to be perfectly honest, out of touch with reality. Remus made him feel that way. He made him feel… Well, anyway, it didn’t matter.

It would be healthy to get a bit of space from Remus, to put more of a focus on the things that mattered—on things that were sustainable, that had a long term goal in mind. And though it was unlikely that Emmeline was that person, she was definitely a step in the right direction. 

Still, as healthy and sustainable as it was, eventually Sirius had started to suffocate in steamy, love-infested Madam Puddifoot’s. Dabbing at his temple like an eighteenth century housewife in a summer’s heat, Sirius had wondered how many poor blokes had sat where he had sat, wishing they were elsewhere. He suspected it was thousands.

But he’d endured it, allowing Emmeline to order whatever silly heart-shaped pastries she’d wanted, rubbing her frozen hands over the table until she’d given him a fond smile—one that told him he’d passed her tests. When they’d finally left the shop, they’d bumped into her friends and he’d excused himself as politely as he could. 

Turning the corner, Sirius waved to Marlene and Dorcas, swallowing against the knot in his throat as they ducked into Honeydukes, arm in arm. Dorcas lifted a hand in greeting before Marlene tugged her inside, the cheery chime of the bell sounding as the door shut. 

Dorcas had taken to joining them for meals in recent weeks, owing to the fact that she could no longer tolerate the majority of her housemates; the discord between the Hogwarts houses was at an all-time high as students became increasingly opinionated and unafraid to show it.

There had been an attack in the papers, a family of five; the father had been Muggleborn, the eldest son a squib. It was the sort of thing that concerned Sirius—it concerned him a great deal. Padfoot, however, hardly spared such details a second thought. He was too preoccupied sniffing smells, wagging at passersby, scrounging for scraps of food to scarf up as fast as possible.

So that was what Sirius escaped to.

There was a lot to discover in Hogsmeade, he realised. Distant shouts of laughter and the occasional dog barking turned Padfoot’s head, the overpowering scents of beer and tobacco drifted out of beaten-down pubs, or battered chips that made his mouth water. It was a different world.

He knew his friends—his pack—were further up the street—not Moony, though, Moony was missing—and other people he didn’t care to name. And then, someone else, someone just as familiar, like home, but also not home at all; Padfoot kept his nose to the ground, trailing it down the cobbled streets until it was all dirt and grass and fresh air, and a sense of freedom he didn’t often find. Padfoot chased freedom through meadows, longing for it like nothing else.

Then, he came over the crest of a hill and remembered what it was that had brought him there: beneath the shelter of a great, pine tree, there sat a lonely, dark-haired boy, patiently waiting for him.

Regulus started at the snap of a twig beneath his paws. Padfoot could smell the fear, but it wasn’t fear towards him, at least he didn’t think it was. This small, curled-in figure was his brother. He wouldn’t be afraid of him.

Wagging his tail, Padfoot padded forward, snuffling the ground at the boy’s feet; the pine was the strongest, needles scattered around, shifting in the wind. Regulus smelled like pine, too—he and the tree were one and the same.

“Hi,” said Regulus, voice hoarse but gentle. Padfoot had missed his voice, even if it didn’t sound like it used to.

“Where did you come from, hm?” With unsteady fingers, Regulus reached out, hand hovering, uncertain with every rise of his shoulders.

Padfoot waited patiently, not wanting to spook him. This was important. He knew that much.

“Can I pet you? Is that okay?”

Lowering his head, Padfoot nudged Regulus’ outstretched hand, who let out a quiet breath of surprise.

Regulus stroked him softly, with the tips of his fingers, as if he didn’t quite know how to do so. With a low, almost purr-like sound, Padfoot sank down against the tree trunk next to him.

A raven cawed. The branches of the tree creaked in the wind. There was something down by the water that was dying.

“…I’m so tired,” Regulus whispered, fingers still brushing back and forth along his sleek fur coat.

Letting out a deep sigh, as if he understood completely, Padfoot rested his head on Regulus’ knee, wanting nothing more than to stay forever with his brother under the pine.

Notes:

I’m sorry… that was annoying of me

 

anyway, bit of a shorter chapter today but at least it’s kinda early, right??

shoutout to whoever it was on tiktok that gave me the idea for the last scene, it’s just so sweet

Chapter 40: next chapter

Summary:

chats with Minnie

How'd we end up this way?

See me nervously pulling at my clothes

And trying to look busy

And you're doing your best to avoid me

I'm starting to think one day I'll tell the story of us

How I was losing my mind when I saw you here

But you held your pride like you should have held me

Oh, I'm scared to see the ending

Why are we pretending this is nothing?

I'd tell you I miss you but I don't know how

I've never heard silence quite this loud

~Taylor Swift (The Story Of Us)

 

Emmeline really was very lovely. She had a nice laugh, all bubbly and sweet, and she wasn’t shy about letting it out. Sirius imagined she charmed many boys that way—people liked thinking themselves funny (although, somehow, it was not nearly as rewarding as earning Moony’s, who only laughed when he found something truly amusing). Emmeline was an excellent kisser too; she was always sucking on these hard cherry candies, which Sirius was quite partial to. 

He tried, he really tried, to focus on her, to think of her and only her when she pulled him into broom cupboards or abandoned bathrooms (he refused to let her up to their dormitory, for reasons he could not explain).

Inevitably, though, his mind would drift.

One evening, a couple of weeks into this endeavor, Sirius found himself in the cupboard again. The door had just clicked shut, a faint creak of hinges muffled in the dark, when Emmeline pressed against him without hesitation. Sirius froze. “Shouldn’t we—?”

He and Remus never left the door unlocked.

“Shouldn’t we what?” Emmeline asked, lips trailing across his jaw.

“Uh, nothing,” he answered, as she continued her soft kisses across his skin. What did it matter if they were caught anyway? It was cool to sneak around with a girl.

Sirius gripped her hips, running his hands over their soft curves, remembering how Remus had shoved him inside an identical-looking cupboard, locking and silencing with a hurried flick of his wand. He’d pulled him in, hands fisting in his shirt, almost angrily, as if Sirius had wronged him somehow, and the only way to make it right was to put everything he had, the good, the bad, all of it, into a single, all-encompassing kiss, to push him into the corner among the dust and the cleaning supplies until they forgot everyone else, until there was only the ragged sounds of breathing and the feel of skin against skin. 

Sirius wanted more of it. He pressed forward with an eager whine, tangling his hands in Moony’s long—

Oh shit.

He pulled back, breathing heavily. He’d gotten carried away again.

“Someone’s eager,” murmured Emmeline. Her fingers were twisted in the hair at the nape of his neck, her cherry breath warm on his cheek.

And Moony? Well, Moony hadn’t touched him in four days.

Merlin, he needed to get a hold of himself.

Emmeline took his silence as embarrassment. “I’m not complaining, though,” she assured, sliding her arms tighter around his neck to pull him back in. 

A sharp knock on the door had them jumping back, not a moment later.

Sirius gave an awkward, barking laugh as the door burst open and his eyes fell on the severe-looking woman standing before them with her arms crossed. “Oh, hi, Minnie… did you need something?”

****

Remus never knew what to expect when Professor McGonagall asked him to her office. He’d been called in on several occasions, under varying circumstances. First year, she’d sat him down after the welcome feast and explained how his ‘situation’ would work, advising him not to discuss the matter with anyone. She’d checked in with him periodically throughout the year following that first meeting, but mostly left him to his own devices. He’d always felt like a bit of a bother and was mostly relieved when those meetings had ceased. Of course, Remus had found himself in her office for other reasons as well—usually the result of a prank gone wrong (or, in some cases, perfectly right)—none of which were any more comfortable than the previous.

This time, however, she offered him a biscuit.

“We have chocolate chip raisin today,” said McGonagall, gesturing to the checkered metal container on the desk before him.

“Oh, thank you,” Remus said hesitantly, helping himself to one. The biscuit was the perfect balance of chewy and soft, easing the hard edge he had been feeling in recent weeks.

“Professor?” he asked, after he’d finished chewing. “Is there a reason I’m here?”

McGonagall folded her hands together over the desk, regarding him steadily behind oval spectacles. “I simply wished to check in, Mr. Lupin. How are you finding your classes this term?”

“They’re good,” Remus said plainly. “I enjoyed the essay on human transfigurations.”

McGonagall nodded knowingly. “I thought so. I must say, I was impressed. Yours was very well written.”

“Thank you,” Remus said, trying not to look too pleased. He took another bite of the biscuit, surprisingly enjoying the burst of flavour the raisins provided; he usually thought it sacrilegious to combine chocolate with other ingredients, but it seemed this recipe was an exception.

“I’ve noticed you’ve been choosing to partner with different peers this week,” McGonagall continued. “Is there a reason for this?”

Remus paused, not having expected the question.

He assumed she did not care to hear the real, somewhat juvenile reason, which was that he simply could not tolerate the amount of teasing Sirius was receiving over his new fling with Emmeline Vance.

Remus entertained himself for a moment by imagining how that conversation might go:

‘See, Professor, the thing is, I’ve been shagging Sirius Black for the past month or so—which, by the way, definitely worth the hype, would recommend to a friend—but, issue is, I think he might be bored of me and if I dwell on that too long I might do something unthinkable like cry. So, I’d just prefer a bit of space right now, if you wouldn’t mind.’

Yeah, best to keep it simple.

Remus held her gaze, always sharp even when out of concern, and shrugged. “Sometimes a new perspective can be refreshing.”

“Indeed,” McGonagall inclined her head. “It is always valuable to consider other perspectives, even if they are ones we’re originally unable to see for ourselves.”

Remus gave a tentative nod, unsure what she was getting at. It was the same feeling he often had under the twinkle in Dumbledore’s eyes during one of the headmaster’s speeches—an unsettling sense that he knew something you didn’t.

Later that night, he shared this confusion with the others.

“Man, I wish Minnie would call me into her office,” said James, flopping onto his mattress with a wistful sigh.

“Same,” Sirius said dejectedly. He was drooped against his bedpost—far enough that Remus was afraid he’d topple off the side of the bed.

“So you really don’t know what you did?” Peter garbled, his head stuck out of the bathroom to listen in, toothbrush in hand.

“She said she liked my essay, but besides that, couldn’t tell you,” Remus shrugged. With some effort, he pulled off his jumper, his hair predictably going all staticy, before he crumpled it into a ball to toss into the nearby laundry basket.

“Damn…” Sirius started, but his words trailed off as he bit his lip, his eyes darting so rapidly between Remus and James that it was almost dizzying.

“Damn…?” prodded James.

“Uh…” Sirius tried. His gaze had paused on Remus, something dark and familiar growing steadily behind his eyes.

Remus almost scoffed. Oh, so now you want me? he thought bitterly.

But he focused on loosening his tie, keeping his expression resolutely on one of boredom.

Sirius cleared his throat. “Last time I saw Minnie, she told me she was, quote, ‘very disappointed in me.’”

James snorted. “That sounds about right.”

“Hey!” Sirius jumped up.

“What?” James shrugged. “I swear she says that to you every day.”

“She does not.”

“Yeah, cause she knows you’d fall to pieces if she did,” interjected Peter.

“Excuse me, this is my future wife we’re talking about! Minnie loves me!”

“You keep telling yourself that.”

Sirius huffed, pulling off his jumper as Remus had done; Remus looked away, refusing to give him the satisfaction of letting it affect him, even as he felt Sirius’ eyes on him, hoping for a reaction.

“So what’d you do to disappoint her?” asked Peter, wiping his mouth on a towel and exiting the bathroom. “Toilet’s free, by the way,” he added offhandedly.

Sirius smiled with that feigned abashedness that told Remus he wouldn’t like what was coming next. “Ah, she caught me after hours with Emmeline.”

Oh, how he hated to be right. Remus found that he understood McGonagall completely; that was very disappointing.

James, however, was grinning wickedly. “Oh ho ho. Where was it this time? Lemme guess, girl’s bathroom?”

Sirius shook his head, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. He sank back onto his bed, pulling his tie from around his neck as Remus did the same. “Guess again.”

“Broom cupboard?” asked Peter. 

“Ding ding ding, correct,” Sirius sang, swinging his tie back and forth like a winning banner.

“Who would’ve thought,” said Remus. Turning away from the rest of the room—from Sirius and his unjustified smugness—he undid his belt, pulling it with a swish out of his belt loops.

Behind him, Sirius gave a strained laugh. “Actually, I’ve got detention tonight, speaking of. Almost forgot.”

“Shame,” he muttered.

“Yeah,” said Sirius, mistaking his sarcasm for genuineness. “Worth it, though. Em’s a good kisser.”

Yep, Remus thought, grimacing to himself. That’s enough of that.

He slid his shirt off his shoulders, whipping it into the laundry basket after his jumper, a bit more aggressive than was necessary. Then he turned back around, heading for the bathroom.

He passed Sirius on his way, who had stopped short, pausing the swinging of his tie. Simply because he could, Remus snatched the tie from his grip, flicking him irritably with the end of it. “I don’t think I asked.”

Placing the tie with a pat, back in his hand, Remus watched as Sirius swallowed and blinked dumbly several times.

“Enjoy detention,” he said, feeling unrepentantly evil. “I, meanwhile, will be having a nice, hot shower.”

****

Sirius dipped his quill into his ink bottle, glancing at the old-fashioned clock that hung on the wall behind McGonagall’s desk. Nearly half past nine. He resisted the urge to sigh for the umteenth time that evening. Either Minnie was a mind reader, or he’d unconsciously let that urge be known because Sirius felt her disdain without so much as lifting his head. He looked up, just for something to do, and found he hadn’t been mistaken.

Sirius didn’t like to brag—okay, maybe he did—but Minnie liked him. He knew that. His detentions with her were a field day compared to what he’d heard. More often than not, they consisted of easy conversation over biscuits and tea—Sirius frequently committed mildly punishable acts solely to acquire an invite to those chats; he didn’t call Minnie the love of his life for nothing.

But tonight, Sirius was not so lucky. Tonight, he had lines, served with approximately zero cups of tea and zero biscuits offered. The cookie jar stood on McGonagall’s desk, taunting him, making his stomach rumble. Sirius was willing to bet Moony knew what was inside.

Great, now he was thinking about him again.

Remus had been… unfairly cruel that evening. First of all, the changing in broad daylight. Yeah, that needed to stop. Moony never used to change in front of them, something Sirius now realised likely accounted for his delayed onset obsession with his body. He’d always wished Moony hadn’t felt so uncomfortable dressing in front of them—it was his room too, after all, and they were the Marauders, there was no need for shame or secrets; Sirius knew better than anyone how damaging that could be, even if he understood the reasons for his reservations; he had scars of his own, after all (and secrets). But now, Remus’ apparent comfort brought nothing but torture for Sirius, because he couldn’t jump Moony’s bones the second he took off his jumper—not unless he wanted to have that conversation with the rest of their friends.

Still, it was almost a reflex for Sirius to start undressing, practically the second he noticed Moony doing so. Sirius hadn’t even been aware of it, not until he’d found his tie in his hand, the other resting on his belt, a familiar heat curling its way down his spine.

And when Remus had undid his own belt, and then, pulled off his shirt to reveal broad shoulders and the rippled muscles of his back, Sirius had nearly convinced himself it was worth it—so long as he could pounce on him and not resurface for at least an hour (the restraint had ultimately won out when he’d realised that James and Peter would’ve probably demanded an explanation before much beyond the initial pouncing could occur—and Sirius would’ve had none).

The issue was that, lately, Sirius was beginning to think Moony had lost interest. With every passing day, the fear multiplied, and Sirius’ torment no longer just included Remus undressing, but the idea of someone else doing it for him.

Five days. It had been five days since they’d been alone together. Five days of Sirius trying to catch his eye, hoping Moony would return his smirk, of looking around at their circle of friends to find him absent.

As if all that wasn’t enough, now Sirius was in detention, plagued with images of Remus naked under the shower head, all soaped up, long limbs glistening, finding ways to extend the shower until his head was thrown back—

No, absolutely not. 

Without considering where he was, Sirius slid back in his chair, banging his forehead on the desk hard enough to shake the image from his mind.

McGonagall cleared her throat. “Mr. Black, is it too much to ask that you refrain from…” She gestured vaguely to his desk, “Doing whatever that was whilst in my office? And preferably elsewhere?”

Sirius grimaced, rubbing his sore head. “No, Minnie. It’s not too much to ask.”

“Good,” she said sternly.

Sirius went back to his lines. “Hey, is it okay if I paraphrase?” he asked. “There’s only so many times you can write, I will not hook up with random skanks before it gets tiresome, you know?”

McGonagall’s eyebrows shot up her forehead, her features sharpening. “I can assure you I did not assign those lines.”

Sirius frowned. “You didn’t?”

“Black…” McGonagall took a deep, patience-seeking breath.

“Only joking,” Sirius promised, holding back a deranged giggle.

“Need I remind you that it is not nice to call someone that word?” said McGonagall.

“What? A skank? You’re the one that assigned the lines.”

Minnie pressed her lips together, far past displeased.

Sirius sighed. He never knew when to shut up. “I guess I’m not helping my case, am I?”

“I would think not,” said McGonagall, with a shake of her head.

“Sorry, Minnie.”

He dipped his quill back in the ink pot and continued writing. He’d lost count of how many lines he had by that point, but he’d nearly filled the entire parchment with the same words: broom cupboards are for brooms, not midnight rendezvous.

Five minutes later, the clock ticking in the otherwise silent room was driving Sirius up the wall. He’d begun tapping a beat along with it, until McGonagall had given him a pointed look, indicating toward the papers she was marking.

“Are you sure you need me till ten, Minnie? I’ve done one whole page, see?” he said, lifting the scroll to show her. “I’m really feeling like the message has sunk in.”

Minnie glanced up from her work, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “I’m not convinced.”

“No, no, it really has!” Sirius assured her, bouncing his knee impatiently. Moony’s bed was calling his name, insistently. He could feel it. 

“Mr. Black, you are not here to negotiate your punishment, but to fulfill it.”

Sirius tried not to pout. “Look, wanna know a secret?” he asked, unwilling to give up so easily.

McGonagall said nothing, but continued to regard him.

“I didn’t actually want to kiss her,” he confessed in a low voice. “Emmeline, I mean. Or, like,” he corrected, needing to explain. “I wouldn’t have chosen that, you know.”

“So why did you?” Minnie asked, setting her work aside. That was something Sirius loved about her. However strict she was, and however disappointed she might have been with him, Minnie always listened. He always got the sense she cared.

“I don’t know,” Sirius shrugged, rolling his ring back and forth along his forefinger. “She asked me out. Thought it sounded like the right thing to do. Moony, er,” he scratched his neck. “Remus seemed to think it was a good idea.”

“Do you only do something when your friends think it’s a good idea?” asked McGonagall, lips pursing.

“No,” Sirius frowned. “I just—”

What was he doing talking about this with her?

“Okay, so I did want to go out with her. Kind of. I just wouldn’t have—no, er, well—” You’re losing it, mate, said the voice in his head. “I would have rathered—” Frustrated, Sirius waved his words away like one might’ve swatted a fly, shutting himself up. He was done talking for the day.

But McGonagall gave a brief nod, her gaze startlingly kind.

Sirius felt a wave of apprehension creep over him. Sometimes, he thought, he didn’t trust kindness.

“I understand,” she said.

Do you?

McGonagall was perceptive; she always saw past his tricks, but still, Sirius didn’t imagine she was perceptive enough to read through the wobbly lines he’d left for her to decode. 

But then, he remembered a meeting they’d had, some few months before, and the keen sting of insults that had landed their mark, blood breaking skin in her company—the realisation that maybe his worst nemeses knew him better than his best friends.

They tolerate mudbloods, but I doubt that oversight extends to queers too.

Sirius didn’t know if it was sympathy, pity, or a bit of both; he didn’t know what Minnie saw on his face, but when he stood, she let him go. Her dismissal was the same. “My door is always open.”

****

Sirius arrived back at the dormitory to find the others had had an early night, all tucked away in their beds, whether sleeping or simply having some time to themselves. Sirius slid into his own bed, mind on his brother.

It was disconcerting, the difference between the two Reguluses Sirius knew. One, direct and cruel with a hard shell exterior, who shot insults and curses with open fire and deadly aim, who watched his friends take swings at him, knowing full well how much they hurt. The other Regulus, scared and soft on both the inside and the outside, who said things like, ‘I understand,’ who was gentle with animals, gentle with him.

The difficulty was that Sirius didn’t know where one Regulus began and the other ended. He didn’t know what they had in common, or if they believed different things. He didn’t know if they both hated him.

“Psst, Padfoot,” hissed a voice outside his bed curtains.

“Yeah, come in, Prongs,” Sirius sighed, pulling the curtains aside. He smiled as James crawled inside and muttered a silencing spell, situating himself on the bed; if nothing else, Sirius knew he could rely on his best friend’s horrendous bedhead to be a constant.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” said James, squeezing his hands together and rocking back and forth, his legs crossed beneath him.

“Shoot,” Sirius said, resting back against the headboard, propped up with pillows.

“So, Emmeline…”

“Emmeline…?”

“You like her…”

“Yeah…?” Sirius said, not sure where he was going with this.

“But she’s not the same person you liked before, is she?” James asked.

“What person I liked before?”

James huffed a sigh. “You know,” he said, sweeping his arms in an outward, circular motion. “The one you were all worked up about? Who gave you the love bite that time?”

Sirius’ first instinct was to deny. “I wasn’t all worked up.”

“Yes, you were,” James said adamantly. “I could see it in your face. Fucking smitten, you were.”

“I was not. Shut up.” 

“Shut up,” James imitated.

Sirius swatted at him in retaliation. “I mean it, Potter,” he hissed, crossing his arms. “I wasn’t.”

Honesty, as he’d suspected, had been a bad idea.

James grabbed both of Sirius’ shoulders, his grip firm. “Padfoot, pretend all you want,” he said gravely. “But I know what I saw. It doesn’t make you weak to feel something, okay?”

Sirius pulled back. Something about those words had struck him and he didn’t know why. He tried to laugh it off. “Jesus, Prongs, that’s deep. Real deep.”

James just looked at him. “You’re telling me you’re just going to give up this person that had you so crazy?”

“They did not have me crazy.”

James made an exasperated face. “Fine,” he relented. “But it was still a thing either way, and now you’re what? Going off with Emmeline and just forgetting about it?”

Sirius sighed, unable to keep up the pretence. “I’m not forgetting about it. I’m just… focusing my energy elsewhere right now, okay?”

“Why?” James asked innocently. He was like a big teddy bear, Sirius thought. Soft and loving, but, sometimes, ignorant to life’s cruelties.

“Why do you think, Prongs?”

“No,” James said, holding up a hand. “I’m sorry, but I refuse to accept that they just don’t want you. That’s ridiculous.”

Sirius scooted down his bed, making himself more comfortable, and hoping that would signal to James that he should just drop it and leave. “I’m not you. I’m not going to pester them until they feel the same.”

James shot him a hurt look.

“What? It’s true. As far as I’m concerned, Lily coming ‘round was a miracle,” said Sirius, fighting to tug the blankets with James’ weight still on them. “Miracles don’t happen twice.”

“Mate, I don’t know what kind of self-confidence drop this is because I’ve heard you say multiple times that you’d marry yourself if you could, but I don’t think it would take a miracle for someone to want to be with you. Hell, I’d marry you if you asked.”

“You would not. You have Lily now.”

“‘Course I would!” James said sincerely. “For you, I’d leave that intelligent piece of ass in a heartbeat.”

Sirius tilted his head at him doubtfully.

“Okay, maybe not, but I’d consider it! If you showed up to my wedding and stood when they said speak now or forever hold your piece I would very seriously consider it.”

Sirius smirked. “Appreciate it, mate. Means a lot.” But then, “Hang on, are you saying I won’t be invited to your wedding?”

James frowned. “What? No, I never said that.”

“Yeah… you said if you showed up to my wedding.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

Sirius ignored him. “So, I have reason to believe that I’d have to crash your wedding to get the chance to Speak now.”

“Oh my god, no!” James cried, throwing up his arms.

“Damn, I’m really feeling loved right now,” said Sirius, clicking his tongue with dismay.

“Fine, I misspoke!” said James. “I just meant if you asked me to run away with you, I’d consider it! Merlin, what’s a bloke gotta do to make a romantic gesture around here?!”

"Uhh, wouldn't I be the one making the romantic gesture, given the whole wedding crashing thing?"

James contemplated this. "Would you really say ruining a wedding is romantic?"

"You're the one who gave me the idea!" Sirius pointed out.

"Exactly," James said. "Think of your own romantic gestures for a change."

Sirius sighed. "Yeah, you know what? I don't think this is going to work."

"It would seem not."

He chuckled. “Ah, well. Pretty sure it’s illegal to marry a bloke at any rate.”

It was completely irrational, the way Sirius' heart clenched in his chest as James glanced up at him, giving a determined shake of his head. “We’d find a way around it," he said confidently.

“How do you figure that?”

“We’re the Marauders! We became animagi. We could easily get us married, don’t you worry about that, pumpkin.”

Sirius eyed him warily. “Is this a preview of marital life? ‘Cause if so, I’m even more decided against it now.”

James only tutted. “You could do a lot worse than me. And a lot worse than pumpkin, pumpkin.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes.

“Gum drop?” James asked predictably.

“Yeah, no.”

“Paddy cake.”

“No.”

“Paddy Longstocking!”

“Absolutely not.”

“What? Your hair’s long enough for it,” James said, grabbing a chunk of Sirius’ hair and holding it up.

Sirius pushed him aside with a groan. “Just Padfoot is fine.”

“Boring,” James said, slumping on his side with a pout.

They fell into comfortable silence for a moment. Sirius let out a breath as his heart slowed.

Eventually, James spoke, “Please just tell me who they are, Pads.”

Sirius said nothing, avoiding his gaze.

“Please?” James asked again.

“No,” Sirius said stubbornly. Suddenly exhausted, he snapped a finger toward the opening in the curtain. “Alright, get out. Conversation is over, thank you, and you're welcome.”

“Fine,” James said dejectedly. “But I really wish you would tell me.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m happy, alright?” Sirius patted him reassuringly on the back as he slid off the bed.

“Okay, Pads.” James turned back to him with a kind smile. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Prongs. Love you too.”

Sirius fell back against his pillows, pulling the blankets tightly around himself. Staring up at the canopy of his four-poster bed, he smiled—wide, bright, and not even a little manic-looking. Everything was as it should have been. Sirius was happy. Perfectly happy.

Notes:

hiii byeee

Chapter 41: more than rumours

Summary:

if he’s short, you’ll probably date him (or something along those lines)

And did you think I didn't see you?

There were flashing lights

At least I had the decency

To keep my nights out of sight

Only rumours 'bout my hips and thighs

And my whispered sighs

Oh, Lord, I think about 

Jumping off of very tall somethings

Just to see you come running

And say the one thing I've been wanting, but no

~Taylor Swift (Is It Over Now?)

 

Pre-game breakfast was a whole affair, as usual. Sirius held his chin high as he and the rest of the Quidditch team entered the Great Hall to a booming stampede of feet.

Regulus was sitting at the Slytherin table; the boos from his house drew Sirius’ attention before he could stop it. He couldn’t see Reggie’s face, so he imagined he was smiling, just for his own peace of mind. Deluding oneself was a lovely pastime which Sirius was familiar with all too well.

Regulus was turned away from the rest of the hall, opposite a silent Dorcas. Sirius supposed, as he slid into a bench at the Gryffindor table, that there was likely some ancient rule that required Dorcas to sit with her own team on game days. Did she and Regulus ever talk? he wondered. What did she know that Sirius didn’t?

He didn’t get the chance to think about it more, because James was beginning their first pep talk.

“We have to win today,” he said, surveying the assortment of foods the house elves had prepared for them: the usual oatmeal, yogurts, and toast, plus a fried egg and tortilla dish Sirius immediately helped himself to.

“You say that every time,” said Mary, following Sirius’ lead and reaching for the hot sauce, a special homemade recipe she’d requested that reminded her of home, and which she added to every meal without fail. 

“Yeah, well, today I really mean it,” said James. “It’s Slytherin. If we lost, it would ruin the Christmas spirit.”

“Mate,” said Remus, glancing up from his book, one so thick that he’d charmed it to float in front of him as he ate. Sirius didn’t find it charming or adorable whatsoever. “It’s the first week of December.”

“Exactly!” James exclaimed. “'Tis the season. And I’d like to keep it that way.”

Sirius managed to catch Moony’s eye and had a brief glimpse of ecstasy as they shared a knowing smile. It didn’t last long. As if realising he’d made some grave mistake, Remus gave his head a little shake, retreating into the book again.

“We have to show everyone we’re a team,” James continued, slapping the table passionately. “Especially now, with everything that’s been going on.”

Marlene was nodding along, a determined glint in her eye. “We can’t let them win. It would just give them more power.”

“No matter how much I love Cas,” she added. Her eyes went wide for a second, a strangely familiar panic, but if anyone else noticed the change they didn’t say.

“Alright, so it’s decided.” James clapped his hands, looking around at the rest of their teammates as if they could orchestrate a win just by willing it into existence.

Sirius felt a fierce swell of pride that he was on the right side of history.

“Hey Mary,” James said suddenly, a suspicious twinkle in his eye. “I need your French translation skills for a second.”

Just having taken a large bite of her tortilla, Mary chewed hurriedly, holding up a finger.

“Hello? I’m right here!” Sirius said, glaring at the traitor who called himself his best friend.

“Shush, Padfoot,” James brushed him off.

Finally swallowing, Mary said, “Sure, what can I do for ya?” 

“Okay, what does tu n’as pas de sentiments, juste envie de t’envoyer en l’air mean?”

It was such an awful French accent that Sirius wanted to cut off his ears, but instead he found himself freezing in a combination of panic and horror.

“Mary, je t’en supplie, ne réponds pas,” he interjected, speaking rapidly before she obliged.

Mary regarded him for several painful seconds with a long stare, made slightly less intimidating by the fact that she had reddish-orange juice dripping from the tortilla between her fingers.

Moony’s face was still hidden behind the book. Sirius prayed that he wasn’t listening.

“Why do you want to know?” Mary finally asked, turning back to James, who was tapping his fingers against the table impatiently.

“Ah, it’s just something Padfoot says to himself sometimes when he’s in the bathroom.”

Sirius resisted the urge to slump against the table.

Mary’s lips twitched. “It means…” she began, as he begged with any god who would listen. “Why's my dick so small?”

Sirius whipped his head up, mouth falling open in outrage. “It does not!”

But too late, Marlene and Peter’s faces both lit up with identical looks of glee, while James nearly fell off the bench, roaring with laughter.

“She’s lying to you,” Sirius moaned, and he really did put his head in his hands then, seeing Mary’s curious smile when he closed his eyes. 

“I don’t know, Black,” said Marlene doubtfully. “Sounds pretty factual to me.”

“I meant the translation!” Sirius cried. 

“Oh, so you admit it’s small then?”

“Fucking—No! My dick is perfectly reasonably sized, thank you very much. Some might even say it’s plentiful.”

“Plentiful, eh? Why am I not convinced?”

Lily cleared her throat loudly, and Sirius looked to her, daring to hope she would put an end to this nonsense.

“It seems some clear, hard evidence is in order,” she said sensibly, proving his hope to be quite out of order.

“Clear and hard, you say?”

“Don’t be gross.”

“Fine. Look, Evans, as flattered as I am, I will not be stripping for you in the middle of the Great Hall. Otherwise, some people might be faced with competition they’re just not equipped for.”

She rolled her eyes, as if his assumption was ludicrous. “Don’t be daft. What I meant was, I think our best shot at the truth is to ask the experts. Now, who here has seen it?” she said, in the same bossy tone she used to speak with first years who were causing trouble, or when she scolded Sirius and James for something they most definitely should have been doing. James would’ve called it hot. Lily liked to call it informative.

“Let’s have a show of hands, shall we?” she said expectantly.

Sirius shook his head in disbelief as James, Peter, and Mary all raised their hands. “I’m surprised. I expected this behaviour from McKinnon or Macdonald, but not you, Evans. You should keep better company. You’re picking up some bad habits.”

“Shut up, Black.”

“Moony,” James called, reaching across Lily to get his attention.

Remus was so fixated on his book that he had to shake him before he finally looked up. 

“Huh?” he asked, startled.

“Pardon?” James corrected. 

“Who are you, my mother?”

“Don’t talk back to me, young man. Now, have you seen Padfoot’s thing or not?”

Remus didn’t look at Sirius. He took a long sip of his tea, holding everyone in wait, breathless to hear what he had to say. Even though three other people had admitted to it, Sirius was positive that if Remus did, they would all be able to sense it, somehow, the extent of his familiarity with certain parts of him.

Or maybe that was just what secrets felt like.

Remus lowered the mug, expression carefully blank. “I would have to say… yes, at one point or another.”

“At one point or another?” James asked, bewildered. “Exactly how many times have you seen it?!”

Now, Remus did look at him. “Couldn’t say,” he shrugged. 

Sirius swallowed, dropping his gaze. His throat was all scratchy and dry. He lifted his glass of juice to his lips, but found it empty.

Neither James was able to move on so easily. “You couldn’t say,” he repeated. “I’ve seen it one time and you couldn’t say?!”

“Sorry, mate, I don’t know what to tell you,” Remus said, miraculously keeping a straight face. “Guess Padfoot just feels more comfortable around me.”

Sirius didn’t know whether ‘more comfortable’ accurately summed it up, but he bit his tongue for the sake of secrecy.

“But—we’re like brothers!” James exclaimed, turning on Sirius with a look that was half hurt and half accusatory.

“Exactly. I’d assume you wouldn’t want to see it. Given incest and all.”

“Like that would stop you. I know your heritage.”

Sirius shrieked. “You take that back!”

“Alright,” Lily said, jumping in again. “That’s enough of that.”

“Yes, let’s get to the bottom of this,” said Marlene. “Mary, does Sirius have a small dick? Yes or no?”

Mary pressed her lips together. “Well—”

“You shut it, missy!” Sirius snapped at her. “You’ve already done enough damage!”

“What? I’ve only been honest.”

“Yeah? Well, I hope you get obliviated because you don’t deserve to have my dick in your memory!”

“Dramatic much,” Mary muttered.

With a haughty sniff, he turned his back to her.

“Alright! Potter’s up,” Marlene said, in a startling impression of a Quidditch commentator. “Potter, thoughts on Black’s dick? Small, yes?”

“No! ‘Course not,” James defended loyally.

“Thanks, mate.”

“But then again,” James continued, wiping his hands on his napkin, done with his breakfast. “For all I know, it could be. Seeing as I’ve only seen it once in third year.”

“Hey! Where’s the faith?!” Sirius asked, mildly offended. 

“Well, I haven’t seen it at its full potential, so how would I know!”

Marlene gagged loudly. “Good god, James, I think you need to sort out your priorities.”

“What? This is a valid concern!”

Sirius couldn’t help but laugh. “Prongs, I didn't realise you secretly had the hots for me.”

“Yeah, should I be concerned?” asked Lily, hands on her hips.

“Wait, no!” James shouted, wide-eyed and slightly frightened-looking. 

Sirius supposed it was justified. Lily was frightful when she wanted to be. “You’re not making a good case for yourself, Prongsie,” he tsked. 

“No, you’re not,” Lily agreed with a pointed frown.

“But I’m his best friend! What?!” James said to the concerned looks he was receiving. “I might need to know what it looks like.”

Remus had abandoned his book by now and was watching the exchange with a look of mild amusement. “Mate,” he said reasonably. “When would you ever need to know what Sirius’ dick looks like?”

It was slightly sick, the way Sirius’ body so readily reacted to those words on his tongue. He shifted in his seat, his trousers uncomfortably tight.

“I don’t know. I might need to,” James said, like he had even a shot at making a half-sensible argument.

“When, though?”

“Okay, say some off their rockers wizard blows up a street of people, and Padfoot happens to be there. And all that’s left of him is his dick, and I’m called in to identify the body, but I have to say, sorry, I can’t help you.”

“Well, then I guess they’d just have to call Remus, wouldn’t they? Since he seems to be such an expert,” said Marlene. She winced slightly, and Sirius had the funny feeling that Remus had kicked her under the table.

“Remus, do you think Black has a small dick?” she asked matter-of-factly.

“I don't know, Marlene,” Remus said pointedly. “I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“Oh no?” The arch of her eyebrow flicked upward. There was a notch in it that Sirius hadn’t noticed before. Did blokes have notches too? he wondered. Or was that something else that only belonged to girls?

“Yeah, McKinnon. I think we’d rather not know that type of thing,” he told her.

“Oh really? I would’ve thought that was all you thought about.”

“And what exactly do you mean by that?”

Marlene shrugged. “Isn’t that what all you guys do in your dormitory at night? Compare dicks and have sword fights?”

“No,” James said grumpily. “We don’t all do that because apparently I‘ve been missing the invite.”

Sirius stared down at his now empty plate, tracing the blue line that ran around the outer rim as he tried his hardest not to laugh.

“I’m sorry, mate,” Remus said solemnly. “You’re right, we should have been thinking of you more. Next time, you’ll be included.”

Sirius nearly choked on his spit. “Yeah, totally,” he joined in, nodding as he coughed. “It was thoughtless. It won’t happen again, though. Promise.”

“Thank you, guys. I appreciate it,” James said, with a sincerity Sirius never would’ve thought possible given the current topic of conversation.

Discussion finally over, they left the hall with the rest of their team. With an automatic swivel of his head, Sirius chanced one last glance at Remus, hoping he wouldn’t get to keep his promise.

****

The match was brutal. Remus had never held his breath so often. His knuckles turned white against the cold, metal handrails of the stands every time a bludger flew Sirius’ way, which happened quite frequently, given he was a beater. The Slytherin beaters were ruthless, swinging their bats with purposeful precision; Sirius and Marlene had to be on top of their defensive game.

James scored goal after goal as usual, which made him the prime target. The entire crowd had gasped as a bludger skimmed by his head, narrowly missing a full-on collision. Remus’ free hand was at that point squeezed so tightly in Lily’s grip that it had hurt. When she’d let go, he’d looked over at her, hand pulsing faintly. Her eyes were still locked on James’ athletic frame, zipping away across the pitch, and he had had the sudden realisation that what he felt for Sirius might not have been unique.

Sometimes, Remus was convinced he was the only one in the world who had ever felt so strongly for someone else. It was an ignorant, self-centred belief, he knew that, but then again, there was no one else like Sirius. He supposed that if there had to be another person who could compete for that feeling, it would be James.

“So,” Remus asked Lily as the crowd around them all ducked as a bludger whipped past the stands. “What’s it like dating the James Potter?”

Lily glanced at him warily, as if he could talk, being in the position he was.

“Oh, you know,” she responded sarcastically. “Just the dream. I feel like I’m dating the football player in a teen movie. Everyone’s just so jealous of me.”

Remus laughed. “Aren’t they, though?”

She shoved him lightly.

Word had spread quickly since they’d told the rest of their friends about their relationship several weeks back, and had henceforth started being more open with their affection. Everyone, of course, had been very supportive. Peter had just about collapsed in shock when James had called Lily love, and instead of beating the living daylights out of him, she’d responded with a sunshine bright smile and an easy ‘yes?’. Marlene had been thrilled for them and had given James an energetic punch to the arm after Lily had broken the news, which, to anyone else, might've knocked them to the ground, but had earned a loving hug from James. He’d received a similar, if slightly less violent, reaction from Mary, who’d been pleased for her friends (although having an in with the girls, Remus had been present for the supposedly necessary ‘you can do better’ talk as well).

Remus knew Lily was more concerned with how the rest of the school would take it, particularly one slimy-haired creep with an unhealthy obsession, not to mention a permanently established vendetta against James.

“People have started giving me weird looks,” Lily said now, reaffirming what Remus had suspected. “I keep feeling like I have something in my teeth.”

“Give them weird looks back,” he suggested.

The stands erupted in a combination of cheers and boos as James confounded the Slytherin keeper yet again with his impressive split-second decisions. Remus and Lily clapped along with them.

“Oh, I have been, trust me,” Lily said once they could hear themselves again.

“Good. It’s them, not you, Lil. It’s their problem. Don’t let it get to you.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “If it weren’t so damaging to other people, I’d almost feel bad for them.”

At the look he gave her, she shrugged. “It eats at you, that kind of hate. Worrying yourself over other people just because they came from a different background.”

“I suppose.”

Lily was too good for this world, Remus thought, watching her in awe. Her fiery red hair floated around her shoulders in the winter breeze, her freckled cheeks flushed from the cold. How anyone could hate her was a mystery.

The game continued, following much the same pattern. The chasers would race towards the goalposts, James closing in for the goal, bludgers on his heels, while Dorcas Meadows, arguably the best Slytherin chaser, put up an excellent effort to stop him. The Gryffindor seeker, as Remus had heard a few hundred times, was good, decent. Regulus Black, on the other hand, was, infuriatingly and undeniably, great. Thus, the Gryffindor-Slytherin matches almost always came down to two possible outcomes. Either James successfully scored enough points to prove the snitch irrelevant, or the younger Black brother found the snitch before he had the time to do so.

Peter liked to place his bets, demonstrating his Quidditch theory knowledge—it was his way of contributing without actually being on the team—but Remus couldn’t see how one could make any real, definitive prediction. Not until the snitch was spotted.

This match was no different. 

In the end, James scored the winning points about a millisecond before Gilderoy Lockhart announced, “Regulus Black has caught the snitch!”

All of Gryffindor House leapt to their feet, stamping and hollering as the players landed on the ground.

“It’s stupid,” Lily whispered in Remus’ ear as they descended the stairs, moving with the buzzing crowd. “But that was really hot.” 

Remus grinned knowingly as James and Sirius bounded towards them, larger than life and glistening from exertion. “Not stupid at all.”

She smirked at him before dashing from his side. James beamed widely as he saw her coming, and then he spun her around in his arms like a real-life high school romance.

Remus couldn’t help but smile as he watched his two friends together, lucky enough to have found true, soulmate-type love.

Sirius stood just behind them, smiling too. He was already looking at him when Remus’ eyes slid from the happy couple, hair sort of damp and tied back from his face in a way that never failed to tug at Remus’ heart strings, or make him feel flushed as Sirius was, just having given his all to a game he loved.

Remus took a step toward him, physically holding himself back from running like Lily had so he could pull him into his arms, so he could cradle his face in his hands and say, ‘You were amazing, love. You were amazing.’

He hardly noticed as he was jostled by the crowd, taking Sirius in like he could immortalise the spirit of him like this in his memory.

He knew he couldn’t. It was as pointless as photographing a sunset. The beauty of the colours never came out right on paper, just as you couldn’t capture Sirius’ essence. He was too vibrant; he’d have jumped right off the page.

Remus didn’t run at him either. But someone else did.

A streak of dark, almost blueish hair came out of nowhere, so fast that even Sirius didn’t seem to expect it. He stumbled, catching her as she threw herself at him. Emmeline.

“Baby, you were amazing!” Remus heard her squeal over the crowd. 

Wincing, he turned away, discreetly bandaging up his bleeding heart.

****

“Have a good party, Moons,” said Sirius. They were on the staircase, the roaring party waiting for them on the other side of the door. They’d ended up alone for one rare moment before they went their separate ways.

“You too, Pads.” Remus gave everything he had to keep his smile genuine. At the last party, he’d had him. He swore he’d had him. At least, he’d been able to pretend he did. Now, all he got was a parting smile.

“You getting drunk tonight?” Sirius asked, pushing his hair back out of his face. 

“Yep.”

“Me too.”

They grinned at each other like mates before Sirius pushed open the door, allowing Robert Plant’s crooning voice to take over.

Good times, bad times, you know I've had my share

When my woman left home for a brown-eyed man

But I still don't seem to care

Remus could tell he was drunk when the bottle of horrendous, revolting, I think I might give up drinking peach vodka started to taste—well, less revolting and horrendous. He also figured he was drunk when the blond boy who’d offered him the bottle, and whom he’d strictly kept in the friend zone for the past two months, began to grow unreasonably attractive. Attractive in the sense that Remus realised he was short enough to have to peer up at him through his eyelashes, and that his hair darkened in the dimmed lights of the Quidditch match celebration.

By the time they made it to the fifth-floor bathrooms, Remus had added another piece of evidence to the roster, and that was that watching Sirius kiss Emmeline Vance next to the fireplace mantel did not feel like his final and most motivating reason to free-fall off the astronomy tower. Instead, it was simply a further incentive to press Simon Lopez into a locked bathroom stall.

“Damn,” Simon gasped as Remus left open-mouthed kisses to his collarbone, using what could only be described as the skills he’d acquired during the weeks-long illicit affair with his best friend; something productive, he figured, had to have come out of it.

“Didn’t expect this from you,” said Simon, raising his arms and letting Remus have his way with him, pulling his t-shirt over his head.

“No?” Remus asked.

Simon shook his head, fingers grazing beneath the hem of Remus’ shirt.

“You should have,” he said, moving in closer still. He had a lot of steam to burn through.

“It would seem so.”

Simon’s fingers were insistent, teasing up his back.

“Hey, do you mind if I keep my shirt on?” Remus asked, empowered to speak his mind.

“What? Oh, yeah sure.” Simon shrugged like this wasn’t a strange request—or maybe he was just too distracted to care.

The swinging of hinges and the muted thud that followed it sounded from the opposite end of the room, reverberating across the tiled walls.

Simon didn’t seem to have heard it. Rather, he slid to his knees.

“Oh, um—”

“I want to,” Simon said, misplacing his hesitation. There came a faint giggle from the far end of the room.

That was when Remus looked through the crack in the bathroom stall and saw the couple kissing against the sink. He stilled, suddenly realising how cheap of a move it had been to come here, during a party at that.

His unsettlement only grew when he noticed the familiar head of black hair.

No.

It couldn’t be.

Oh, please let it not be.

But Remus would’ve known Sirius anywhere. He could spot him a hundred feet across the Quidditch pitch, a blur of black whipping behind him, the elegant line of his spine gracefully working with his broom. He could find him in a bustling crowd, recognise his bark of laughter, or identify his exact shade of midnight hair in a sea of people. And he could tell it was him now, the beater muscles in his arms flexing as he lifted Emmeline onto the marble counter.

Simon had already undone his belt, hands finding purchase behind him, and then he was everywhere, and Remus needed to stop him, but he’d been hanging on a tight thread about to snap, and Simon was there, willing to do something about it.

He cried out, but the intentful conviction didn’t seem to hold the same message.

****

Sirius’ head shot up, his body instantly jolting at the rough, desire-filled sound that echoed across the bathroom tiles. Emmeline felt it, his sudden eagerness. She wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, humming softly. He shook his head, kissing her.

But there it was again. Sirius swore he’d heard it.

Shit.

Fizzing like the goddamn Zonko’s candy, Sirius told his brain to kindly shut up.

Five senses, he thought. Focus on your five senses.

1. Emmeline’s soft, cherry-flavoured lips.
2. Emmeline’s curves—perfect for him to grasp.
3. Her pear-scented perfume. By this point, she was a whole bloody fruit tree.
4. Their moving reflection in the mirror. Sirius saw himself outside of his own body, sliding his hands over her back. What the fuck was he doing?
5. Moony’s choked-out moan, the one he made when he was trying to hold it back. The sound should’ve been bottled up; an aphrodisiac to the ears.

Merlin.

He must’ve really been going crazy if he couldn’t distinguish between reality and imagination.

Emmeline kissed his neck, and Sirius almost rolled his eyes at the routine of it all. It was always the same. He would kiss her, feeling her hum into his mouth. Then she’d trail her lips downwards while he made a commendable effort to stay present, even if effort wasn’t the same as any real results—

—There! There it was again!

He’d gone mental. There was no other explanation.

Emmeline hopped down from the counter, her hand splayed on Sirius’ stomach as she lowered herself to the ground, knees on either side of his feet. 

So much for staying present.

Sirius breathed in through his nose, gritting his teeth as heat surrounded him. His eyes strayed to the far wall, to the cubicle he’d last visited with Moony.

Wait.

Someone was in there. No, not just someone, two people. Sirius saw two pairs of black shoes, half of which were nearly sticking, soles up, out of the cubicle.

His breathing quickened. 

It wasn’t. Was it?

Sirius squinted, willing his eyes to see through the crack in the stall door.

Fuck, it was too dark. He tried to shift to get a better look, but Emmeline was holding him in place.

Straining, Sirius waited for the next sound.

Just when he thought he’d go insane with anticipation, a low moan emitted from the stall, and then—someone reached out, gripping the top of the door with a long, scarred hand.

The scars, white lines running across the back of the hand, curling around deft fingers—scars Sirius had memorised from across library desks when he ought to have been studying, scars he’d longed to kiss but hadn’t due to the unnecessary nature of such a gesture; Sirius’ brain could fill in the gaps. Because what he lacked in vision, he could recognise with his fluency in Moony. That moan had been his. Sirius’ body knew it just as well as his mind. No one did it quite like him.

He bit his finger hard, suppressing the desire to push Emmeline off him and take the imbecile’s place—maybe get a good punch in or two while he was at it.

Godric, couldn’t Moony have at least chosen a different cubicle?

“Does this feel good, baby?” Emmeline asked.

“Huh?” Sirius glanced down at her. Her mouth was red, her skin pearly white in contrast, her eyes big and wide as she looked up at him.

She didn’t even know.

“Oh, yeah. So good,” he told her. Better with Moony near. Those memories of him were almost within reach like this.

“You can pull on my hair,” Emmeline said shyly. “I like it.”

For some reason, this made Sirius’ head shoot up—just in time to catch a thoroughly ruffled Remus pushing a blond boy towards the exit.

Sirius swore as he felt Emmeline’s tongue on him again, heat and desire pouring over him. The lights were out. They were hidden in the shadows, but he knew Remus had seen.

He grabbed Emmeline’s silky hair like she’d asked, sinking his fingers in, tugging the way Moony always did.

Just before Remus passed out of view, he paused. Hand on the wall, he turned slowly around, almost as an afterthought. Their eyes locked.

Sirius bit his lip so hard he tasted blood as Remus lifted his hand and waved, before slipping out of sight.

Notes:

Somehow subconsciously the first scene almost turned into an episode of new girl oops. schmidt is an idiot (and so is james).

Been a bit unmotivated lately. To anyone who’s still reading this, I hope your pillow stays cold all night.

Chapter 42: blowing smoke

Summary:

sirius accepts that he’s pathetic

Notes:

tw: brief intrusive thoughts of violence

I hear your voice like a boom in my tower

I sleep alone, I'm completely fine

And you look stupid going out

If she's got a pulse, she meets your standards now?

You feel nothing and yet you still let her

But I bet you're at her place right now

You couldn't point her out in any crowd

~Gracie Abrams (Blowing Smoke)

 

By the time Remus made it back to the common room, he felt saturated from all the excitement of the night. The party was still thriving, with groups of friends singing and dancing exuberantly, and a lively beer pong game going on one side of the room. Numerous couples secluded by the walls talked intimately or exhibited other couple-like behaviours that Remus did his best to ignore. One pair had taken residence over Sirius and Emmeline’s previous spot by the mantle; Remus suppressed a groan at the reminder.

After escaping the bathroom, and the scene that he’d left behind—somehow, the most concurrently nauseating and erotic thing he’d ever witnessed—Remus had walked Simon back to Ravenclaw Tower, trying to control the spasms of his eyelids as he was repeatedly assaulted with images, fresh in his mind: Sirius gripping the counter behind him, finger between his teeth. The way he’d stared directly at the crack in the stall door, as if he could see straight through it—straight to Remus. He’d stared, chest rising staggeringly, as if he were getting off on the fact that Remus was there, getting off too.

Needless to say, Remus hadn’t lasted long.

When they’d reached the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room, Simon had turned to him, a bit shyly:

“Thanks for tonight,” he’d said, which had struck Remus as odd, as he hadn’t actually done anything.

“Don’t thank me,” Remus had replied. He’d shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling awkward and shameful. He knew he probably should have kissed him goodnight, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. “I guess I probably owe you now.”

“Don’t be silly,” Simon had smiled. “I had fun.”

Now, the adrenaline of seeing Sirius was wearing off, leaving Remus a bit wilted, limbs heavy and sagging, like an old teabag set out for later use. Without surveying the room further, Remus moved through the crowd, making a beeline for the boys’ dormitory.

In his hurry, he’d missed the fact that James and Sirius were directly blocking his path toward the stairs.

James seemed to be harassing him, this Remus deduced from Sirius’ general prickly energy, and the bizarre, bird mating-dance formation they were currently stuck in as James chased him around the drinks table. Upon his first sighting of the pair, Remus skidded forwards, unsteady on his feet as he put on the brakes.

He turned, looping back around the other side of the nearby couch, hoping he hadn’t been spotted. 

With his senses, both heightened by the approaching moon and attuned specifically to his friends’ voices, he caught the conversation without much effort. 

“Where were you?” James whispered, rounding on Sirius again. “Were you with—?”

“Nowhere, no,” Sirius hissed. His neck was flushed like he’d been burnt, just like it had been when—

“I don’t believe you.”

“That’s not my problem. Fuck off now.”

“Sirius—”

Remus slowed his steps, nearly tripping over a tiny first-year he hadn’t even noticed, who was curled on the carpet, head lolling in exhaustion.

“Shit, sorry,” he mumbled, thinking vaguely that someone needed to put them to bed.

“Moony!” he heard then, being called after him. He cursed again, under his breath this time, and swivelled around on the balls of his feet.

“Where’d you go earlier?” James asked, stumbling slightly towards him. Sirius had disappeared, conveniently quickly, back into the crowd.

“Nowhere,” said Remus hastily.

James tutted at his evasiveness. He had a large jug of what appeared to be clamato juice clutched between both hands, and—

“Is that celery?” Remus asked, momentarily distracted.

“Yeah, I made a Caesar, wanna try?” James raised the jug to show him, taking a loud bite of the vegetable. It stuck out of the opening like a straw.

“I’m good, thanks,” Remus said, trying to push past a group of fourth years, all dressed in Gryffindor attire.

“Hey, where’re you going?” James caught hold of his sleeve.

“Upstairs.”

“What? Noo, Moony, stay. Please? For me?”

“Sorry, Prongs. I’m tired. Don’t feel like partying anymore.”

James pouted. “For Pads then?” Tucking his Caesar inside his arm, he dropped a heavy hand on Remus’ shoulder, lowering his voice, which somehow still summated to yelling. “I’m kind of worried about him!”

That made Remus pause. “What do you mean?”

“He’s seemed kind of off lately, you haven’t noticed?”

“Oh, I–”

“Prongs!” Sirius came up behind them, his cup refilled—a blood-red liquid sloshed inside, of what Remus guessed was cranberry juice and vodka. “Come be my partner for beer pong.”

“Hang on a sec, Pads. I’m trying to convince Moony to stay longer.”

Something was off with him, but Remus had been too focused on his own selfish problems with Sirius to see it. He felt a twinge of guilt before the problems took over again as Sirius said, “Aw, he can go if he wants to.”

Did he want to get rid of him?

“No, don’t you see what this means?” James said, tone turning whiny, reminiscent of his shorter, life-ruiningly beautiful counterpart.

“That I’m tired?” Remus provided. He put on a show of yawning for believability. He was allowed to want to feel wanted, while still needing his space, protecting his peace.

“No, it means he doesn’t love us,” James wailed, grabbing onto Sirius’ arms, seeming to need support, both emotional and physical.

“Did I say that?” Remus asked.

“Not in so few words, but you definitely thought it.”

“I really didn’t.”

“You did.”

“Fuck’s sake, Prongs. Just let him go,” Sirius interrupted sharply. “He clearly doesn’t want to be here.”

Yeah, and you clearly don’t want me around, Remus thought gloomily.

James sighed. “God forbid a bloke needs a little reassurance!” he said. “At least tell us you love us first.”

Remus sighed, but obliged. James was just so earnest, you couldn’t help but give him what he wanted. “I love you, Prongs,” he said pointedly, staring straight into his eyes to ensure the message was received. “Happy?”

James smiled. “Tell Siri too.”

Remus groaned inwardly. He’d been afraid of that.

“Love you, Padfoot,” he forced out, staring down at his feet. He wondered if it sounded different, the way he said—more strained, surely.

“'Cause that sounded believable.”

“What?” Remus asked irritably.

Sirius was frowning at him, a little crease indenting his brow. “Don’t say things you don’t mean, Moony.”

Remus scoffed. ‘You’re one to talk,’ he almost said, but he shook his head, making an effort to pull himself together. With a forced cheer, he chuckled, warm and deep, and not like he could feel the cracks in his heart. “‘Course I love you, Pads! What’s the matter with you?”

Sirius was tracing a finger around the edge of his plastic cup, as if he expected it to resonate like a wine glass. His lips moved, but whatever came out was drowned out by the music.

James raised his eyebrows at Remus meaningfully. Remus couldn’t decipher what he meant.

“Okay, I’m gonna go…” he said lamely, turning to leave.

“Hang on a sec, Moony.” James halted his escape. “I wanted to ask, you didn’t happen to run into Padfoot during your wanderings earlier, did you?”

Remus waffled. “Uhhh…”

If he didn’t look at Sirius, then he wouldn’t think about—

“Wait, you did?”

“No!” Sirius and Remus shouted in unison. His head turned on its own, landing Sirius right in his line of sight—as if his body hadn’t gotten the memo.

James raised a curious eyebrow.

“No, sorry,” Remus corrected himself, trying to ignore the way Sirius’ staring made him feel—itchy and feverish, like he needed to run, or at least douse himself with a bucket of ice-cold water. “I’ve been… off doing my own thing.”

Sirius snorted.

“What?” Remus snapped, patience running thin.

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

And here it was: the tip-top root of the problem. The reason their rows stirred up so much speculation, why they appeared to have such childish, surface-level fights, was that the main root of the issue had been pushed down so deep that no one could figure out just what lay down there, not even themselves.

Remus, however, knew one very important fact with absolute certainty: he detested seeing Sirius with someone else, and though he would never admit to that, he had no problem speaking his mind about every other issue he had with him. 

“Oh, c’mon, Padfoot,” he said, dropping any pretenses. “Don’t make yourself a hypocrite now, not when you’re already so good at being an arsehole.”

“Oh yeah?” Sirius asked, like he’d been waiting for this. His lips downturned into a perfect pout. He’d been biting them, Remus noticed. He regretted this honed perceptiveness when Sirius ran his tongue over his lips, kick-starting his heart and the fresh surge of frustration in his chest. “Well, you’re a wanker.”

“Real original.”

“And yet, funny, it’s still true.”

“Look in a mirror and you’ll find it to be,” Remus shot back. 

“But I don’t need to, I can just look at you.”

“Yeah, so I’ve noticed.”

Sirius fumed, and he smirked, cruelly pleased the remark hadn’t gone over his head.

“You’re a bastard, Lupin. A selfish bastard and I hate you,” Sirius said, spitting the words with venom, like he meant it.

“Yeah? Well, guess what, Black?” Remus said, moving in closer, uncaring that the argument was hugely lacking in finesse—not that they ever really had any while sober. “You’re arrogant and stupid, and I hate you,” he said harshly. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” James stepped in, waving his hands between them agitatedly. “We do not hate. We love each other, remember? What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” they both snapped.

“Mhm. Very believable.”

Remus glared straight through him, as if he weren’t even there. Sirius glared right back, with an unyieldingness that burned. Remus imagined the layers of his skin might have peeled away if he were to touch him then. Love was gruesome like that.

Distantly, he felt his arm being tugged; James must have been trying to get his attention. Remus didn’t mean to fight it, but it was as if magnets were being pried apart as they finally broke eye contact.

“What?” he asked irritably. 

James sighed. “Please explain to me what’s going on.”

“Why don’t you ask Sirius? I’m sure he’d be happy to tell you.”

Sirius, as it so happened, did not appear to be listening. Remus followed his line of sight to the group of girls huddled together, clutching drinks and giggling into their hands. They were all dressed in the same skimpy fashion, short skirts and legs for days.

“Careful,” Remus told him. “I’ve heard wandering eyes don’t keep girlfriends.”

Scowling, Sirius turned back to them. “I don’t have a girlfriend,” he said through gritted teeth.

“That’s weird, I thought you were concerned with exclusivity. Sharing saliva and all that.”

“Yeah, well, figured it was pointless, wasn’t it?” He gave a bitter laugh. 

“Guys! Guys!” James cut in, looking back and forth between them frantically. “For the love of Merlin, would someone care to enlighten me? What’s the problem?”

“Remus is my problem,” Sirius said immediately. Tipping his head back and exposing the luminous skin of his throat, he downed his drink in one long swig. Remus scoffed and followed suit, drowning himself as Sirius’ Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.

Without a word, he left them there, a bewildered-looking James, and his miserable company. At last reaching the other side of the room, he tossed his cup into the nearby recycling bag with the rest of the discarded items. Feeling disagreeable and more than a little sorry for himself, he ascended the stairs, escaping to his cigarettes and his solitude. 

****

Dorcas, despite belonging to the opposing quidditch team, was in attendance at the Gryffindor celebration. She wore a mauve halter top and remained a loyal companion at Marlene’s side, as if she hadn’t been scoring against them all afternoon. Sirius watched the two of them for so long he started to feel like a creep, which he wasn’t—although, he supposed if he were one he’d have told himself the same thing. Still, Sirius had his reasons, and none to do with the elusive beauty of the Slytherin, who had at one point stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the Gryffindors, but was now practically a full-time resident. She did look beautiful, of course, and maybe Sirius would have been distracted by such beauty had he not had a plethora of other matters on his mind.

Primarily, he was delaying the inevitable. He knew that Remus was upstairs, and that he was, at this point, probably slipping into a smoke-induced haze by the window. Sirius also knew that if he left his seat, there was a very good chance he would end up going to find him.

Lately, Sirius had been feeling a lot of anger towards Remus. It was simmering now, on the cusp of boiling over. He didn’t know how to cool it down without doing the one thing he shouldn’t. He didn’t know how to release the pressure when Moony wouldn’t touch him.

He couldn’t stop seeing Remus with the boy (he refused to use his name in an act of protest). He couldn’t stop picturing it. It had been one thing to know of the existence of such happenings, to lie awake at night, torturing himself wondering, at this very moment, are they doing it?

It was another thing entirely to witness them.

That boy, that pathetic, good-for-nothing, Moony-hogger had touched him. He’d put his hands all over him, leaving smudges everywhere Sirius wished could be only his. He’d tasted his lips and his skin. He’d had the privilege of seeing Moony like that, of finding ways to make him sigh. He’d been the one to provoke those sounds, not Sirius.

Sirius wasn’t special. He wasn’t special, but he would’ve bet his inheritance that that boy hadn’t valued Moony the way he could have.

So, first and foremost, Sirius was… testing his restraint. He was aware that it was more than likely he’d come across as pathetic and desperate and no better than no-name boy in the very probable future. He had also convinced himself that time was an inverse factor of his probable patheticness, and that the longer he waited, the greater his chance at reducing it.

Besides the need for a distraction, there were things Sirius wanted to ask Dorcas. But the jittery feeling in his stomach, like he’d had one too many cups of coffee, suggested that perhaps he shouldn’t.

Dorcas wouldn’t let that slide. Just after Marlene had slipped off toward the drinks table, she caught his eye. 

“Sirius, get over here,” she said, patting the vacant seat next to her.

Relenting, he pushed off from his seat and went to join her. Situating himself on the couch, he pulled his leg up underneath him before he could think better of it. It always came as a surprise to hear Dorcas call him by his first name; most people didn’t, and it wasn’t as if they were close. He liked it, though. It was refreshing in a way not always being tied to his family. 

“Is there something you’d like to ask me?” Dorcas said, direct as always.

Sirius could see why Regulus would have liked her. There was something comforting about such assertiveness, even if a bit intimidating. Sirius realised as he fiddled with his cup, feeling inadequate, yet somehow like it didn’t matter, that he wanted Dorcas to like him. He had no idea how to go about that.

Certainly, it wouldn’t be to ask her about his brother.

“Look.” He hesitated as Dorcas leaned forward, maintaining her elegant posture and a startling amount of eye contact, from which he immediately shied away.

Moony must like her, too, Sirius thought. It occurred to him then that they could have been close friends without his knowledge. It wouldn’t have been the first time.

“Yes?” Dorcas prodded.

Realising much more time had passed than he’d been aware, Sirius hurried to speak. In his hurry, the question that left his lips was not the one he’d planned to voice: “Why did you think Remus and I were dating?”

“Oh.” Dorcas’ features lifted in surprise. Sirius had the urge to slide down the couch until he hit the floor and could bang his head—gently for Minnie’s sake—on the mahogany wood of the coffee table.

“I’m really drunk!” he blurted.

Dorcas smiled, a terrible, knowing smile—one that made him want to crawl into a hole.

“Marlene?” she called, turning her head around to search for her companion.

The urges grew exponentially.

As if from thin air, Marlene appeared, two drinks in her hands and a wild grin lighting her face. She’d cut her hair again recently, so that it was all scruffy and shorter than Sirius’. He didn’t know if that said something about her or him.

“I think it’s time we and Sirius had a chat,” Dorcas told her.

A look of recognition passed over Marlene’s face, and she nodded. Shifting backwards on the couch, Dorcas made room so the three of them could all sit comfortably. Marlene sank onto the middle cushion, right next to her. She left very little space between them.

Unclasping his hands in his lap, Sirius pulled his index ring free and began twisting it between his fingers.

“Sirius, there’s something I’d like to tell you,” Marlene said, looking at him steadily. “But I need you to promise you’ll keep it to yourself.”

“Okay,” he said. He could feel his heart in his chest, squeezing and relaxing painfully. He didn’t like being so aware of himself.

Marlene nodded again, seeming to accept this. “Okay. Dorcas and I…” she began. She looked back at Dorcas, who gave her a reassuring smile in return. “We’re dating, and we have been, for almost half a year now.”

Sirius stared, the words circulating in his head as he processed them.

“You’re—dating?”

Had he heard her correctly?

Marlene nodded.

Sirius let out a clipped laugh, fumbling his ring between his fingers. It skipped out of sight and he swore, patting around the cushion beneath him, before he caught the silver glint hidden in the carpet at his feet. He bent down, contorting himself in his seat to reach it.

When he straightened, head spinning briefly, he expected Marlene and Dorcas to laugh it off, reveal the hilarious punchline he’d been unable to reach by himself.

Instead, they were both watching him expectantly, expressions grave.

Could it be true?

Sirius took a moment to think rationally about this. What reason did they have to lie? No one would sanely put that out into the universe if it weren’t, would they?

He considered the unlikely friendship that had seemingly sprung out of nowhere. He thought about all the times he’d seen Marlene and Dorcas together, arm in arm, and that aching sensation in his stomach he felt whenever he did. Was it so hard to believe?

“You’re not messing with me, are you?” he asked.

“We’re not messing with you,” Dorcas confirmed.

“Well, wow, that’s—” He laughed again, rubbing his neck. He didn’t know what to say. Except, “Who else knows?”

“Lily,” Marlene said. She paused. “And Remus.”

He looked at her. “Remus knows?”

Marlene smiled fondly. Sirius watched, hardly daring to believe it as Dorcas’ thumb brushed surreptitiously against her thigh, a tiny detail that, to any onlooker, would’ve gone unnoticed.

“Remus was the first person I told,” said Marlene. 

“Why?” he asked.

“Because I trust him.” She shrugged.

“And why are you telling me?”

“We’ve had our suspicions about you two, is all,” said Dorcas, hand resting casually against the side of Marlene’s leg. “What I mean to say, Sirius, is that… we hoped you would understand.”

Sirius swallowed. It was one thing for them to admit to being something, together, to have someone to hold their hands while they did. But when it was his turn, the instinct to bolt was still firmly in place.

His brain instantly provided him with names, a barrage of names his mother would’ve called Marlene and Dorcas. He imagined speaking to them that way and almost physically recoiled. He could scream into their faces, he realised. He had the power to. He had the power to make them feel like he had.

The lump in his throat began to feel like bile surfacing, and he swallowed thickly again. “I’m—”

“Sirius, are you okay?” Marlene asked, concern in her eyes.

He could hit her if he wanted. 

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Sirius said. He jumped out of his seat, as if it were an electric chair—as if he might do it if he stayed there. 

He didn’t stop until he’d reached the stairway. When he did, he bent over, pressing one hand to his knee, the other on the solid wall, grounding himself. It was cooler here, and with the lack of stimuli and expectations, the nausea crawled back down his throat.

It was only then that he realised where he was, and what was waiting for him if he continued up the stairs.

Between one realisation and the next, Sirius was moving again, shoving the sick feeling down into the trenches of his mind.

What are you about to do? He had the sense to wonder, but then he came through the dormitory door, and any conscious awareness quickly left him.

Remus was perched in the window seat, exactly where Sirius had expected to find him. His head was resting against the glass pane, shoulders hunched in rigid lines. Smoke encircled him, wisping from the cigarette balanced between his fingers. Sirius immediately wanted a drag.

Several belated seconds after the door had clicked shut, Remus looked up. “Oh,” he said coldly, unsurprised. “It’s you.”

Something lit up inside Sirius, a spark of anger, the kind only Moony could ignite.

“It’s you,” he echoed, as if he hadn’t known—as if he weren’t there for that exact reason.

This didn’t seem to be enough to keep Moony’s attention. With a disgruntled sigh, Remus turned his back to him again, focusing his energy on the cigarette in his hand.

“So you’ve been keeping busy,” Sirius drawled. 

There was a beat of silence as Moony made the connection. Sirius waited, hoping he’d take the bait.

“Not as busy as you,” Remus finally said. He stubbed out his fag on the ashtray next to him. Sirius tried to tame his eagerness. “I’m sorry I missed the finale, must’ve been quite a sight.”

“Yeah, I’d say the same, but pretty sure I caught that.”

“Lucky you,” Remus replied cooly.

Sirius flushed. The jitters were back in full force.

“You really are the Casanova, you know,” he continued, rejecting the bitter tone that threatened to make its appearance. What did Moony feel when he kissed the other boy? When he touched him? Did he lose himself in the heat of it all? Was it electrifying? Did it feel so right, it was like fate?

At last, Remus turned away from the window. “You must be joking.”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

“Sirius, you have had constant girlfriends since fourth year, and you see me with one person, and that’s what you think? How fucking hypocritical can you be?”

“You’re telling me that idiot is the only one?” Sirius asked.

“He’s not an idiot.”

“Oh, spare me.” He rolled his eyes, not failing to notice how Remus dodged the question, or how he didn’t hesitate for a second in defending him. “Idiots are practically your type now.”

“Why, cause you’re one?”

Sirius ignored the stupid little thrill that ran through him at the comment. “Fuck off and answer the question.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do both,” Remus said, crossing his arms. His jumper moved with the flexing of his shoulders.

Sirius gave him a deadpan stare, raked his eyes over Moony’s body, once or twice. “Is he really the only one, or are you just a Casanova disguised as a swot?” he asked. 

“The only one besides you, you mean?”

“Well—” He threw up a hand. “Yeah.”

“Sirius, you do realise who you’re talking to, don’t you?” said Remus, standing now. He towered over him—or maybe it was that Sirius felt so small.

“Yeah, I do, and that’s why I’m asking!”

“Well, is she the only one?”

“Emmeline?”

Remus scowled, but nodded.

“Yes! Obviously.” He could answer the question, unlike some people.

Was it always necessary for Moony to be so mysterious? So evasive? Did he keep him on his toes for the fun of it? Did he enjoy torturing him? Did he get a kick out of it?

“Just tell me one thing,” Sirius found himself saying, because he felt so small and unimportant. “Just for curiosity’s sake.”

“What?” Remus asked tiredly. He looked at the point of leaving. He shifted on his feet, like nothing here could keep his attention.

“Is he better at it than I am?” It was the only way Sirius knew how to ask.

“Better at what?”

“You know.” He cracked a sly smile, the best he could muster.

“Oh.” Remus rubbed his jaw, as if he couldn’t see the humour in the joke.

“Well?” Sirius asked. 

“Is she better?”

“She—” Fuck. He’d forgotten that could happen. “C’mon, you know how girls are.”

“Not really.”

Sirius huffed. The nerve. “Well, whatever, I asked you first.”

“Sirius,” Remus said, that smouldering no-nonsense look in his eye. “Be honest. For once in your life.”

His words echoed around the room, bouncing off the walls. Each time they came back to Sirius.

“Fine!” He gave in, unable to deny them. “You’re better! It’s better with you, is that what you want me to say?”

Remus’ gaze had fallen to the floor, but he looked up sharply now, taken aback.

Take me now, Sirius begged the gods above.

He would not ask. He would not. It would only end in disappointment.

“So? How is it with him?” he said, betraying himself.

Remus huffed a laugh, pressing fingers to his lips. Sirius had the impulse to laugh with him, though it wasn’t funny. 

Eventually, Remus spoke. His eyes were dark, boring into him, and his words came low and gravelly as he said, “Yeah, not as good as with you.”

Not as good as with you.

“Oh,” Sirius said, equally taken aback. It was no big deal. It didn’t mean anything. It was just—not as good as with him. Not as good. Better, one might’ve said.

Somehow, he still had to control his elation.

“Okay,” Sirius said, stepping closer, pulled as if by some invisible force. “So, don’t you think, then, that it would be a shame to…” He hesitated.

“A shame to what?” Remus asked.

He took a breath. Here came the pathetic part.

“I just think it would be… a bit of a pity to—to stop,” he whispered.

“A bit of a pity?” Remus repeated. Sirius watched as his eyes flicked downwards. Two unbearable feet of space still separated them. 

“A lot of a pity. The greatest waste.”

“You think?”

“Don’t you?”

Sirius knew he could convince him, could coerce him into wanting it. He’d just forgotten. It would just take a little reminder, and then Sirius knew he could have him. Even if it made him the most selfish person on the planet. Even if it made him a bad friend, or just plain bad—like his family. Sirius was done caring. He’d be the villain in the eyes of the reader—there would never be one anyway. Only Moony would know the secret—that he was evil, disgraceful, disturbed.

Sirius. Did. Not. Care.

“What purpose does stopping serve?” he asked shamelessly, letting the words melt on his tongue—all the better to entice him.

Remus shook his head. His lips were parted in a way that told Sirius he was listening.

One more line and he knew he’d have him.

“Why, Moony?” he breathed. He stared up at him from beneath his eyelashes, giving his most lust-filled look. It came naturally when he had Remus this close—when Sirius felt so lustful. “Why stop when it feels so good?”

Remus was still shaking his head, like he couldn’t find an answer, like it was futile to try. His eyes were on him, only him.

“I don’t know.” He said it like he was winded, though he stood perfectly still.

“Then fucking kiss me,” said Sirius.

Remus gave a jerky nod, and then he closed the gap, hands sliding up Sirius’ jaw. He held him in his searing grip, his gaze like a force—like gravity, pulling Sirius in, multiplying every time he tried to look away.

Their mouths met and Sirius felt himself shatter on impact. Every wall he had built, every door he’d kept locked, had burst open, the broken dam flowing freely, and none of it could be contained anymore. He wanted Moony. He knew it as well as he knew his own name. He wanted this, and he wanted Moony, and maybe it would go away, but at this moment, Sirius didn’t hope for that. He was too caught up in the soft brush of his lips, the hint of cigarettes, the pounding beat of his heart like a drum. And then, he felt the sharp tug on his hair just as Moony’s tongue slid into his mouth.

Sirius gasped, the kiss changing in an instant. There was nothing sweet about the way Moony tasted now, or how his fingers dug into his waist, squeezing and grasping like he wanted to test the limits, just to see how good it could feel.

When they ripped themselves apart, Remus didn’t waste his energy. “Bathroom,” he panted, nodding towards the door.

Sirius might’ve seen the humour in this request under other circumstances—this wasn’t the first bathroom of the night—but the urgency of the situation didn’t leave space for it.

Inside, the door slammed shut as Remus covered Sirius’ body with his own, pressing him into it.

“Hold on,” Sirius said, tingling heat spreading from every place of contact. “Don’t trust—James. Gotta—lock the door.”

“Well, do it quick,” Remus murmured, breathing hot against his neck as Sirius turned around to fumble with the handle.

Remus’ neediness only spurred on his excitement. For all the reservations he might have held, he never had trouble letting them go once they were touching, and that thrilled Sirius in a way he couldn’t explain. Moony’s hands slid over his shoulders, dragging heavily down his sides, and Sirius trembled with his own desire.

“Will you stop?” he said, batting Remus’ fingers away before he finally managed to lock the door.

“That’s not what you were saying a couple minutes ago,” Remus teased.

“Shut up. You know I had a point.”

“I don’t know. Maybe you’re overhyping it. I can’t seem to remem—” Remus hissed, cutting himself off as Sirius palmed him through his jeans.

“Oh, I’ll make you remember," Sirius assured him, capturing his lips again, but removing his hand, teasing him in retribution.

He felt alive in a way he’d been missing during the past weeks of separation, alive in a way only Moony could make him feel.

A low, frustrated sound escaped Remus’ throat, and every pleasurable emotion rushed to him at once as he braced himself for what was to come.

Remus spun him around again, pinning his hips and his arms both to the door. Sirius leaned forward, wanting his mouth back on his. Remus dodged him.

“The fuck’s your problem?” Sirius asked, straining against him.

“You’re my problem,” Remus growled, echoing their earlier fight.

Since his wrists were trapped and Remus was being frustratingly evasive, Sirius hooked his ankle around the back of Remus’ calf. “Oh, I will be,” he gasped as they both pushed and pulled against each other, seeking friction.

The banging of a fist from outside startled Sirius so much that his head hit the door.

“Ow, Jesus,” he swore.

“Sirius! Remus! Are you in there?”

They stared at each other in horror, which, if Sirius had to estimate on behalf of himself, was fifty percent due to being discovered and fifty percent because he was really very partial to finishing what they were doing.

“I heard that! Who just knocked back?” James shouted. His voice came a little staggered—still at least halfway tipsy then.

Neither of them said anything. Sirius prayed he would give up and go away.

Subtly, he shifted his hips against Moony’s. Remus’ eyes widened, but he pressed silently back, one hand supporting himself against the door. He’d dropped Sirius’ arms. Now free to do what he liked, Sirius had snaked them up to grasp Moony by the waist. 

“I know you’re in there!” James called again, and he was startlingly close. “Come out.”

“Go away, Prongs,” Sirius said. Remus snorted at the breathless, high-pitched tone that came out. Sirius smacked him in the chest.

James did not go away. Instead, he banged on the door harder. Sirius thought, grumpily, that he was not the one who should have been doing the banging.

“Padfoot!” James yelled, much too loudly, right next to their heads. “Did you kill Moony?!”

“No! He’s just—” Sirius looked at him. Remus’ cheeks were rosy, his lips red and shining and delicious, and his hair stuck up in all directions. He was also very much hard against Sirius’ hip. “He’s just feeling sick. He wants to be left alone.”

“Then why are you in there?”

Ugh! “Cause, Prongs! Ever heard of emotional support?”

“That makes no sense,” said James. “And I’m sorry, but you remember the rule. No Moony and Pads alone time two days before the moon.”

“Aw, fuck off!”

“I’m going to wait here until you come out.”

“I’m really fine,” Remus contributed hopefully. “Don’t worry about me.”

“You heard what I said!” James said firmly. “And I know we also have a no alohamora rule on the bathroom, but if you don’t come out soon, I’m breaking that door down, rule or not.”

Grimacing regretfully, Remus finally leaned away from Sirius, putting several feet between them, like there had been before. Sirius grew cold in the absence of his touch. 

“Okay, um,” Remus whispered, glancing down at himself stiffly before turning around to face the shower curtain. “Don’t look at me and don’t speak to me until this is over.”

Sirius sighed in disappointment. To be fair, it was their only viable option. Unless…

He giggled to himself, earning a shushing from Remus.

“Mooony,” he whispered, after a moment of restless focus, in which he purposefully turned his stomach at thoughts of his great aunt in a pink frilly brassiere.

“Sshht—” Remus hissed again. “Give me a sec!”

“Alright, fine,” said Sirius. “You can have all the secs you need.”

Remus groaned.

Notes:

I knoww the update did not come quickly apologies😭 In my defence, I was camping and did not have a screen. Hence, ao3 was not seen…

gracie abrams mention cause I saw her in concertttt (and secretly thought about wolfstar cause duh)

happy august

Chapter 43: at whose expense

Summary:

sirius’ selfish wishes come true

Here we go again/Everything is fine

I guess we could pretend/We didn't cross a line

But ever since that day/Everything has changed

The way I write your name/The cursive letter A

Whenever it may be/That you go on your way

If you really wanna leave/I'll never make you stay

Whatever you decide/I will understand

And it will all be fine/Just go back to being friends

~Chappell Roan (Kaleidescope)

 

The whistle to announce their departure sounded as Sirius heaved his trunk onto the train seat. The end goal was the rack above his head. He had gained some muscle over the past Quidditch season—which he’d so humbly noticed but kept to himself—but his height continued to be a limiting factor that prevented him from demonstrating that. Maybe if he stood on the seat?

“Here, I got it,” came a voice, startling him from behind, like a warm breath on his neck.

Embarrassed, Sirius stepped aside, allowing Remus to sweep in and pick up his trunk with those strong and capable hands of his. Grunting slightly, Remus hoisted the trunk onto the rack with the rest of the bags, shoulders flexing impressively.

“Ah, thanks,” Sirius said, averting his eyes.

“Look at you being so helpful, Remus,” remarked Marlene. She had her feet up, stretched across both Dorcas and Mary’s laps and wore an awful, knowing smirk, directed entirely at Sirius. 

“That’s me,” Moony said easily. “Reliable Remus.”

“Is that what they call you?”

“Oh yes,” said James, ducking inside the compartment, Lily’s hand in his. He sat opposite Marlene, pulling her down next to him. “Our Moony is very reliable. You can always count on him to be level-headed. He never overreacts.”

“Okay, thank you for that," Remus said, sinking down next to Sirius with a roll of his eyes.

They all knew it was a joke, of course. Moony really was just the best… friend. 

“How about…” Mary ventured. “Raunchy Remus. According to what I’ve heard, it fits better.”

Everyone thought this was funny, including Sirius, though it was unlikely anyone else’s laugh sounded as forced as his did.

He wished he’d had the courage to ask Remus to stay behind with him for the holidays. He’d almost broached the subject the day following the Quidditch party, when they’d finally managed to sneak twenty minutes alone together in the empty Charms classroom—Sirius had originally suggested the history room, however, being both sexy and intelligent as he was, Remus had reminded him that getting it on in a class taught by a ghost was not such a good idea. This had sprouted a whole new list of worries when Sirius had realised it was very possible, despite their locking and silencing precautions, that any other ghost could happen upon them at the inopportune moment, and who were worse gossips than the ghosts? He’d stopped caring when Remus had kissed him.

During, Sirius was so overwhelmed at being back with him, he couldn’t look Remus in the eye. Luckily, the other boy had had the same idea. Sirius had found himself spun around and bent right over the desk he and James usually shared (which hadn’t done anything for his concentration the next day; he’d spent the entire class fighting back his blush).

Afterwards, eye contact wasn’t so easy to avoid. When they were touching, the void in his chest was filled, but then Sirius’ body became his again, and the only way to lessen the emptiness was to pack the gauze in tight and soak up all of Moony he could from a distance.

Through this impossible act, he’d found himself picturing how Hogwarts would look snowed in. The tree would shine extra bright on Christmas morning next to Moony, no classes for the foreseeable future, no obligations, no one to disturb them…

But he couldn’t. It was too risky, too obvious. Sure, they both might have admitted to preferring each other’s touch over other people’s—or at least certain unmentionable people Sirius hoped would never step foot in Remus’ life again—but it was more of a logistics matter than anything else. Clearly, they had chemistry, but that was nothing new, and logistically, bound to spring up between best friends from time to time (not that Sirius would ever fancy a round with James, mind you). Still, chemistry, the intoxicating, indisputable kind they had, was more difficult to find with people you barely knew; these things took time (in the case with Remus, it was years of careful distance and mystification, until you were quite literally dying for a taste. Curiosity had in fact killed the cat—or, well, dog, Sirius supposed). 

So he’d kept quiet, sucking on his cigarette like a soother, anything to redirect his fixation with Moony’s mouth. It was at these times that it felt most pertinent, like Remus had cracked him open just a little more so that all his terrible feelings started to seep out. It was at times like these that Sirius wanted a kiss to mean more than a kiss, or nothing at all, if only he could do it again without consequence.

Don’t be ungrateful, he told himself now, with Moony’s knee just short of grazing his own on the train seat. Across from them, Marlene rested her head on Dorcas’ shoulder, a look of peaceful contentment stitched permanently across her face. 

It was something his mother had often reminded him. 

‘Don’t be ungrateful, Sirius’, she’d say when his empty stomach growled after he’d been sent to bed with no dinner. ‘Don’t be greedy,’ she’d say when he wanted second helpings of breakfast; he’d only seemed to grow hungrier with each bite of porridge. ‘Don’t expect so much,’ she’d tell him when he’d asked why he couldn’t play in the park like the other kids.

Eventually, the reminders of what he shouldn’t do or shouldn’t be had turned to accusations of what he was.

****

They were in the sun room, tucked cosily back into the Potters’ perfect life. The room’s windows stretched from the floor, up and over them, its architecture almost reminiscent of a life-sized snow globe, except it wasn’t snow falling outside, but a spattering rain. Remus rested his neck against the back of the sofa and watched it come down. He could feel a crick forming, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. He was very aware of time, of this little slice of it in which they’d found themselves. Nothing was so bleak here, apart from the clouds above them. Nothing felt overly brilliant either, but rather a safe, pale neutral.

Well, perhaps there was one exception—though he was not entirely within reach, so neither was the feeling.

The boy in question had changed positions five times since he’d sat down some minutes ago. Currently, he lay on his back, satin hair splayed around him, one arm extended above. He was like a particularly curious flower, one that grew in all directions, no matter from where the light shone. That was, if his petals had been dipped in black ink.

By some unknown variable outside of Remus’ range of knowledge, Sirius rolled with an impossible fluidity off the couch he occupied, in search of a new place to take root.

Besides the pattering of rain on the windowpane, the only sound was the scratching of a quill to Remus’ right. Set up at the speckled wooden table at the end of the small room—or perhaps enclosure was a better word—James scribbled away, looking uncharacteristically studious in one of Remus’ jumpers, his glasses slipping down his nose.

Remus focused his energy on determining what he could be writing, rather than on the fact that Sirius had settled with his cheek in his palm, eyes trained on him like he was an especially peculiar piece of art—one that required long, detailed examination.

Did he like what he saw? Did museum curators care whether the paintings they put on display were pleasing to the viewer? Remus almost felt it didn’t matter, as long as they were looking at them. As long as the intrigue persisted.

He tried not to think about that sort of thing here. There was no space for that particular brand of Sirius and Remus at the Potters’, or the masochistic perspective Remus had on the matter. The Sirius and Remus they became when they dared stray off the path, when they stopped considering the shoulds and shouldn’ts and focused solely on what felt right. That version of them, whenever it was brave enough to make an appearance, found him sporting a hard-on mid-day, in a house that was not his, in company that was unlikely to leave his side…

So no. Remus didn’t allow that to happen; that was for sure.

That being said, he didn’t always have a say. 

“I can’t get comfy, Moony,” Sirius complained. He was still watching him, elbows on his knees.

Remus picked up his book. It had fallen closed in his distraction. “Sounds like a you problem.”

“It is. But I wonder if your sofa is more comfortable. You don’t seem to be having any issues.”

“Yes, well, I’m me and you’re you,” said Remus, wary as Sirius pushed off the floor and approached him.

“Fair point.” He perched gingerly on the armrest.

The scratching of James’ quill continued as Remus raised his eyebrows warningly at Sirius. They’d agreed to keep things even further on the down low over the break, and that meant avoiding touching—or the chance of touching—whenever possible.

But, as if he hadn’t even registered the look, Sirius slid slowly off the arm of the sofa, coming to rest with his head by Remus’ thigh. Tilting his head back, he looked at him upside down with a Cheshire smile. His throat was exposed, pale and smooth, like butter if you sank your teeth in.

Remus pushed Sirius’ face away, earning a laugh as delicate hands batted him off.

“What do you think he’s doing?” Sirius asked, nodding towards James at the table.

“No clue.”

Sirius sat up, stretching to try to catch a glimpse. “What are you working on there, Jamsie?”

James scratched his head, paused, and then continued writing. “Making a list,” he said absently. “Hey, how do you feel about Anna Petrova?”

“Uhh, never spoken to her, why?”

“No reason.”

He crossed out a word with his quill.

Frowning with suspicion, Sirius planted his feet back on the carpet. He stood and crossed the room, swiftly. James hastily snatched up his parchment when he noticed his deliberate approach, turning away from the rest of the room to hide its contents.

“Give me that,” Sirius demanded when he reached him, holding out a hand expectantly.

“No! Hey, that’s private!” James jumped up, protesting when it was plucked from his grip.

Sirius darted out of reach, waving the parchment wildly above his head. “Moony! Stop him!” he yelled, knocking a chair over in his efforts.

The act of clumsiness allowed him to create some distance between them, slowing James’ counterattack.

Remus did not move to help him, opting to watch the exchange from the sidelines. He’d learned over the years, much like anyone else who knew the pair, that it was best to stay well out of the way during their kerfuffles, lest you lose an extremity or two.

James nearly did, tripping right over the obstructing chair and tumbling gracelessly into a heap of limbs. Remus thought it was incredibly fortunate that he had been born into a magical family; he would never have made it past his twenties without—although, admittedly, such abilities often did more harm than good.

As James recovered from his fall, Sirius climbed behind Remus on the couch, jostling the book right out of his lap and inserting him directly in the middle of the action.

“Protect me, Moony!” he cried.

“Is this really necessary?” Remus grumbled.

But Sirius wasn’t listening. He crouched behind him, so the meaning of personal space and boundaries was entirely lost to both of them, and began whisper-reading aloud.

“The future Mrs. Black…” He paused on the first line. “I’m sorry, what?”

Remus frowned. “Let me see.”

Sirius handed it over, shifting out from behind him. James had ceased the attack; he stood above them, hands on his hips.

“Prongs, what is this?” Sirius asked. Leaning over Remus’ shoulder, he scanned the list, which consisted of two and a half columns of names, girls' names, many of them familiar, like Marlene McKinnon or Dorcas Meadows—Remus had to stop himself from facepalming at that—others he didn’t recognise.

“I am going to find out who it is, Padfoot.” James was nodding gravely, determination straightening his spine.

“His future wife? Are you kidding me?” Remus had hoped this kind of immature behaviour had been put in the past. It seemed he’d been mistaken.

It was the sort of stupid thing that had been a daily occurrence in fourth year, when all anyone had talked about was who could get a bird to snog them first.

Remus recalled one unpleasant memory in which Sirius and Mary had been shoved into the staircase for seven minutes while Marlene, Lily, and several other giggling girls had sung a song about them kissing in a tree.

He hadn’t known then why he’d acted so offended over it, why, instead of cheering and whistling like everyone else, he’d been filled with rage and confusion, and had proceeded to ignore Sirius for an entire week.

He understood it now, but that didn’t stop him from reacting irrationally.

“What kind of immature bullshit is this? You can’t just pick someone else’s wife out of a hat.”

“I’m not picking them out of a hat; this is methodical,” James explained, snatching the list out of Remus’ hands and clutching it to his chest protectively. “And it will work.”

“How the fuck do you expect—”

“No, Moony, you don’t get it,” James cut into his outburst. “This person is already in the picture. It’s not me who’s choosing them. I’m just… playing a little game of guess who.”

“Prongs…” Sirius began. “Do us both a favour and stop talking.”

James ignored him. “You see, Pads here has been keeping a little secret.”

“Oh my god, Potter, shut the fuck up. You’re so dramatic.”

A little secret…

“I hope I’ve made it abundantly clear, but in case I haven’t, I could give a rat’s arse who Padfoot is shagging,” said Remus quickly.

He and Sirius made hot, forbidden eye contact for one brief moment. Sirius broke it first.

“Prongs doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” he said, through gritted teeth, glaring at the other boy meaningfully.

“Course I do. I read you like an open book.” James knocked him in the ankle with his foot. Sirius knocked him back. James winced in a way that suggested it hadn’t been entirely playful.

Approaching footsteps, hurried in their manner, brought a sudden end to the conversation.

“Boys!” Effie called. Her voice sounded strained, wavering unnaturally. All three of them tensed, picking up on the strange tone.

Euphemia Potter was the epitome of calm. She could bring tranquillity to a room of people with one soft-spoken request, could settle nerves with a mere look. But this—something was wrong.

“Mum, what is it?” James asked, rushing to her side.

“Jamie, love.” Effie’s forehead was etched with lines of worry. She placed two shaking hands on James’ face, smoothing her thumbs against his cheeks. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to worry you. She’s–she’s okay, but your grandmother, she’s taken a fall.”

“Oh.” James’ face fell. He blinked rapidly, letting himself be pulled into his mother’s arms.

Remus looked away and squeezed his eyelids shut.

****

They left within the hour, hurriedly-packed bags under their arms and hope singing mournfully in their hearts. Sirius and Remus had helped James throw together a few days' worth of clothes and his toiletries, working as quickly as they could amidst the horrid feeling of wrongness that had settled over the house. James was silent, following them around numbly. Shock had turned him into a zombie. This was what struck Sirius most. Their friend, the natural leader and knower of all—at least in his eyes—was suddenly lost, needing someone else to lead the way. Sirius did his best, but he was no James—not even close.

They’d taken a portkey; the trip to Rajasthan was far too great otherwise. With recent restrictions set in place by the Ministry, they’d been unable to secure permission for Remus to accompany them, as they were not his legal guardians. Effie had apologised profusely, the weight on her shoulders only seeming to grow heavier. But it had been nothing in the grand scheme of things for Sirius and Remus to stay behind, and they had both promised as much, wishing the speediest of recoveries for James’ Nani.

Presently, they were back in the sun room. The rain had stopped, but the sky had yet to clear, as was the case for Sirius’ conscience. Still more clouds moved in as he bounced his leg, feeling useless, beyond that, like it had somehow been his fault.

This is what you get for being sick, he told himself instinctively; he didn’t know how to turn it off, or even if he should.

Okay, so no, he hadn’t physically tripped James’ grandmother down the stairs, but hadn’t he, in some sense, wished it into existence?

One way or another, he’d gotten what he’d wanted: he had Moony all to himself.

“I should’ve just stayed at Hogwarts,” said Remus, mystifyingly blind to what Sirius saw through the looking-glass.

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true, though. Otherwise, you’d be with your family right now and not me.”

Oh, Moony, Sirius thought sadly. You are my family. 

“I’m just an extension. I’ve never even met James’ Nani,” he told him.

“Still, you should’ve gone with them.”

He shrugged, staring down at his hands. They were far too small and feminine-looking; the last time he’d played piano, he’d barely been able to reach a tenth interval. “It’s not like I was gonna leave you here. Besides, I would've felt a bit like an intruder anyway.”

Remus shook his head. “They always want you around, you know that.”

“Yeah? Well, same with you.”

Moony rolled his eyes, as if that had been a ridiculous thing to say.

“I’m serious, and I really don’t mind staying, I swear.”

“Okay, but—”

“Moony!” He couldn’t take it. “I actually like you, funnily enough. Like, I like being around you. Crazy, I know, but besides the fact that our best mate’s going through something and we can’t be there for him, I am perfectly content right here.”

Remus turned away from the window out of which he’d been staring, as if considering making a run for it during the break in the rain.

I will chase after you, Sirius vowed.

These sorts of thoughts were inescapable by now. He’d come to expect them, like lightning’s answering thunder clap, or the pain of a bee sting. 

“You must be mental,” said Remus. He gave another disbelieving shake of his head. 

Sirius smiled, defenceless. “Maybe.”

Notes:

I think that’s the worst thing I’ve done yet to get wolfstar alone (forgive me). I mean that’s what we all want right?

Waited to post this after a flight, not before! Thought I’d be heroic or something and not take everyone down w me lol

Sorry it was a short update! More soon hopefully.

Chapter 44: less is more

Summary:

whatever they get up to undisturbed. I don’t know, read it and find out.

Wait for the signal and I'll meet you after dark

Show me the places where the others gave you scars

Now this is an open-shut case

Guess I should've known from the look on your face

Every bait and switch was a work of art

~Taylor Swift (Willow)

 

A soft tapping startled Remus awake. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up, shivering slightly as his bedsheet slipped down his bare chest. A draft was coming in through the window; he’d cracked it open the night before when he’d started to burn up. Stress had his body changing temperatures like the seasons.

The tapping sounded again, and Remus was now conscious enough to place it as what must have been fingernails on the outside of his door.

“Come in,” he said hoarsely, voice thick with sleep.

The door opened, and Sirius’ face poked inside. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

Remus blinked at the gentleness in his voice. Waking in the Marauders’ dorm usually involved a flurry of limbs and shouted demands to get up—the kind of chaos he imagined came with a house full of brothers. But not this. Never this.

“Morning,” Remus said. He stretched, yawning widely. “What time is it?”

“Like nine,” said Sirius. He was still in his pyjamas, long cotton ones that came down past his ankles. He wore a black jumper, its hood pulled over his head in a way that made him appear softer, so achingly human—achingly him. Remus wondered if he’d woken up and come straight to his room, looking for him. Sirius didn’t tend to get up this early unless he had a definite reason.

“Well, are you gonna come in?” he asked. He was wide awake now.

“Might do.”

“Might?”

A slow smile spread across Sirius’ face. “Can you at least put a shirt on first?”

A thrill ran through Remus as he glanced down at himself and then back up at Sirius. “I don’t know, I’m quite comfortable like this.”

“Are you now?” Sirius took a step into the room. The door shut behind him with a soft click.

Remus nodded.

“That’s not very considerate of your guests, though,” said Sirius. He was toying with the drawstrings on his jumper, but looking straight at him.

“Yes, well, this is my room you’re barging into.”

“I seem to recall it was you who asked me in.”

“It was more of a wondering, not an invitation. You’re the one who woke me up.”

Sirius had reached the end of the bed. He stood above him, regarding him with a casual regality that somehow existed because of his clothes and not despite them; his effortless beauty was only more pronounced when taken out of the formal attire of galas and banquets into which he’d once been forced.

“Are you here for any particular reason?” Remus asked, leaning back on his elbows so he could take Sirius in better. “Because I actually was enjoying sleeping before I was so rudely interrupted.”

Sirius made a noncommittal sound, stretching his arms above his head. His jumper lifted just enough to reveal a strip of bare skin.

Remus sank back into his pillows, fixing his eyes on the tiny white dots stippled across the ceiling. He knew the pattern too well—the chain of events before it even began. If this was another one of Sirius’ games, he refused to lose.

In fact, maybe he’d give himself a head start.

“I have to warn you,” Remus said as Sirius sank wordlessly onto the end of the mattress. “I’m not wearing much under the covers.”

His lips twitched with satisfaction at the audible intake of breath.

“I’ll try to be careful.” The bed frame creaked slightly as Sirius crept closer.

Remus could picture him—the hooded eyes, the deliberate crawl on hands and knees up the bed. “You better,” he said, a tingling excitement creeping over him. Perhaps this wasn’t a game at all, but a failing ruse of disinterest.

“What are you wearing then?” Sirius asked, in his periphery. “So I’m prepared.”

He hummed, as if thinking. “Not socks.”

“Okay. Not socks. Anything else?”

“Not trousers,” Remus divulged next. 

“Oh no?” Sirius asked as if voicing a distant curiosity. The covers rustled, the weight beneath him shifting.

“No, I find them… constrictive.”

“Hm, I get what you mean.”

Unable to help it, Remus lowered his eyes, and Jesus Christ, he didn’t think he’d ever get used to that look when it was directed at him like that. Sirius wasn’t hiding it; he hadn’t even bothered to try.

“Do you wanna know what I’d do…?” he asked, tracing a finger along the indents of the duvet. 

“What you’d do…?” Remus repeated, following the path. 

“If we had the dorm to ourselves every morning…”

Oh!

Remus couldn’t pretend he wasn’t intrigued—really fucking intrigued. “I’m listening.”

Sirius smirked, licking his lips. His posture was nearly relaxed, but his eyes held the focused glint of a lion ready to pounce. “Well, I’d wake up…”

“Oh, really?”

“Shut up.” He reached forward, shoving Remus lightly. 

“Okay,” Remus encouraged, laughing. “So you’d wake up…”

“I’d wake up.” He gave him a conspiratorial smile. “And then I’d wake you, Mr. Sleeping Beauty.”

“Hey, I think we can both agree that’s you.”

“Right, true, because you’re the dashing prince.”

Remus rolled his eyes. Try unlovable beast.

“Get back to the story,” he said impatiently. 

“Okay, wanna know how I’d wake you?”

“Kick me into consciousness?”

“Ha ha, no. Actually, I was thinking something like this.” Sirius crept closer, steadying himself with his hands on Remus’ shoulders. Then he leaned in, and Remus felt the wet sensation of his tongue in his ear.

“Aghh!” He yelped in surprise.

“Oh,” said Sirius, eyes innocent and doe-like when he pulled back. “You don’t like that?”

Remus humphed, body humming faintly, though he wouldn’t admit that. “No.”

“That’s too bad, because after…” Sirius’ tongue was back, this time, painting a trail up his neck.

He squirmed, hands coming instinctively to grip him by the waist.

Sirius chuckled faintly. “And then,” he murmured, lips against his neck. “Just to make sure you’re awake…”

He sucked hard on the hollow of his collarbone, all lips and teeth and enthusiasm. Remus dug his fingers into Sirius’ skin, guiding his hips until he was swinging a leg over and straddling him.

He pulled back again and leaned his forehead into Remus’, who met his heavy grey eyes.

“And then what?” Remus whispered, their breaths mingling together.

“And then…” Sirius tilted his head, slotting his nose against his, teasing lips millimetres away. “I’d make you kiss me.”

Remus could’ve made some sarcastic comment about how terrible it was that he’d force him to do this. He could’ve told him he was sick of drawing the short straw, that he needed compensation, that it was all just perfectly unfair. He could have said a lot of things. None of them seemed worthwhile, not when instead, he was allowed to lean forward and press his lips to his.

He still hadn’t learned how to kiss him gently. Probably, this had something to do with the fact that kissing, in and of itself, was so intimate. It meant more than they were willing to admit. But the soft sighs Sirius couldn’t help but exhale always stirred that desire in Remus, razor sharp, and a kiss was never just a kiss. In the back of his muddled mind, he suspected that only by allowing themselves to want less would it ever mean any more.

Sirius’ lips parted, and Remus couldn’t stop himself from encouraging him further, until he could taste the heat of his mouth and feel the moan resonating low in the back of his throat.

“Just kiss you?” he asked breathlessly when they parted for air, knowing the answer before he got a reply.

“What do you think?” Sirius asked, and it was just the littlest bit needy, but enough that Remus knew he felt it more than he was letting on.

As if to enunciate his words, he shifted his hips, once, twice, until it was more than obvious what they were about to do. Remus returned the gesture, sliding his hands up beneath his jumper.

“Take this off,” he murmured, tugging at the fabric.

“Only if you help me,” said Sirius, taking hold of both of his wrists.

“Oh, you want my help?” Remus asked.

“Please.”

Cursing in a distracted surge of want, he leaned forward, biting into that smirk until it was no longer taunting him, but instead, melting in his mouth, softer than candy floss. The whimper that he elicited was sweeter than Remus could take, and his head spun from the sugar rush.

“Please, Moony. I want it off. I want you to touch me.”

God. 

Well, since he’d asked so nicely.

Struck by an overwhelming impatience, Remus tugged Sirius’ jumper roughly up and over his head. He murmured a hasty apology when it snagged briefly under his chin.

“Don’t care,” Sirius breathed. “Just want you.”

His bare chest was like a kaleidoscope, an entrapment of colour, a mirage of diamond whites, blush pinks, kiss me cherries. It was impossible to look away, nor did Remus want to. He skimmed his fingers over its surfaces. He pulled him in, squeezing tightly. He felt Sirius shudder when they finally touched, chest to chest, pressed close enough that their breathing became synchronized.

“I want you,” Remus said, because he did, but also because it was allowed.

“I want you more,” Sirius told him, again. He slid his hips forward against him, and they both gasped.

“More,” Sirius repeated, lips brushing his, and it was unbelievable, truly, the desire caught in his throat, the fact that this was their reality.

He began moving against him, harder, more insistently. Remus slipped his hands down the back of his trousers, desperately lifting to meet him. Their hipbones knocked together and he couldn’t swallow back his moan.

Still grasping him steadily by the shoulders, Sirius bowed his head, strands of hair falling in his face. His gaze was fixed on the aching places between them where their hips met, and Remus got it, because fuck, it was good—otherworldly, honestly. But it was also avoidant, and though he’d let him get away with it the last few times, he didn’t feel so accommodating now.

Without stopping his movements, Remus reached a hand up, taking hold of his chin. Sirius nearly tried to resist it, stubbornly sticking to those defences, however much he might have denied that he even had any. 

“Look at me,” Remus said, voice husky, commanding in his need.

Sirius obeyed, dark, blown-out pupils meeting his own.

It was an instant mistake, but the best kind, one that left them both reeling, the intensity of every sensation and feeling kicking up another ten notches. Small pants left Sirius’ mouth, half open in an expression of awe or comprehension or miraculous dawning. If Remus weren’t so caught up in it all, he might have seen the mirrored reflection of himself in his eyes.

Their mirror images remained in sync, want the only factor at play, before they both seemed to reach their limit. It was need then that had them ripping off the rest of their clothes in a frantic rush, a refusal to be separated any longer.

Had it been the plan all along? Or successively become something over which neither had any control? Remus was inclined to believe both conclusions held some validity, but it didn't matter. Being with Sirius meant letting go of all of those details, until they were irrelevant and forgotten, mere imprints in the sand. It was reverting back to the start, despite the knowledge that history was exactly what had brought them there. It was setting aside differences in favour of instincts that lay deep below any fear or uncertainty. Most of all, to be with Sirius was to feel love. So much love that it ran away from him, seeping helplessly between his fingers, pouring out of the cavity in his chest, despite the pressure he’d put to hold it in. It covered Sirius, unsolicited. Invisible stains of crimson he would never see.

Nothing had ever hurt so good. 

****

They ate breakfast to the clinking of spoons in their cereal bowls. Two stools at the kitchen counter were the only furniture occupied. The fridge was stocked with various fruits, vegetables, and prepared meals waiting for them, courtesy of Effie. Sirius had a glass full of grapefruit juice, while Remus had orange because he couldn’t tolerate the sour taste; as soon as they’d been poured, he’d tipped his glass back, downing the nectar of the sweeter fruit. It soothed the parched feeling in his throat.

They glanced at each other periodically between bites, exchanging small smiles or the occasional smirk. They never had much time alone afterwards to sit and process what kept happening between them. Normally, it was straight to blinking against corridor lights, blindly following the crowd between classes. Or otherwise, it was Remus outstretching a hand as Sirius rushed back to his own bed, terrified that one second next to him would result in a death sentence for the crime they’d both committed.

There was none of that here, nowhere for Sirius to run off to, as much as it might have been ingrained in him to do so. There was no one to catch them here either; even Gully the house elf had made the trip; she had a special connection to James’ Nani, having been in her family for years before moving to England with the Potters in the late fifties. This meant that every interaction Sirius and Remus had would come about completely naturally, free of any influence outside of their little bubble. Remus was very aware of this fact. He felt horribly guilty that he appreciated it so, secretly wishing for more time, just to see what might happen; the longer he had with Sirius, the longer that James’ Nani didn’t recover.

“Is it bad we just did that in their house while like…?” Remus trailed off. 

Sirius was busy scooping up the remaining milk from his cereal. “Just did what?” he asked, without looking up.

“You know…” Remus gestured meaningfully. There was no way he wasn’t thinking about it… right?

“Do I…?”

“Don’t play stupid.”

“Stupid? I’m not playing stupid…”

Remus wanted to slap him.

“Fine, you want a hint? It involved you begging me to touch you.”

Sirius' spoon clanked loudly in his bowl. Remus almost laughed out loud as a noticeable pink brightened his cheeks.

Got you.

“I was not begging,” Sirius denied, abandoning his bowl to glare at him.

“I beg to differ. Hah, get it?” Remus chuckled proudly at his joke.

“Shut up! I was not!” Sirius shouted, eyes darting rapidly back and forth, though it wasn't evident what he was looking for. It was only the two of them there.

“It’s okay, Pads. There’s nothing wrong with knowing what you want,” he said smugly. There was something so satisfying about turning the tables back on him. It was always, neverendingly, Remus who suffered. But for a moment, he was granted a reprieve and given the chance to give up that exhausting role. He had to enjoy it.

“I don’t—! I didn’t—!” Sirius fumed. He jumped from his stool, getting right up in his face with a pointed finger. “Fine! But you know what? That’s the last time! I’m never doing it again.”

“Begging me or sleeping with me?” Remus asked sensibly. 

“I—” Sirius stepped back, looking appalled.

“Mhm, okay.”

His eyes flashed. “Both! If anything, you’re gonna be begging me,” he said haughtily. He grabbed his bowl, passing behind Remus’ chair. “Are you done with that?” he asked, gesturing sharply toward his own dish, empty save for the remainder of sugary milk at the bottom.

Remus lifted the bowl to his mouth, swallowing it back in a few unhurried gulps. He licked his lips and smiled as he handed it to Sirius, careful to brush their fingers when he did.

He was not confident in much, but he did know that Sirius’ words were a blatant lie. It was only a matter of time before the truth was uncovered. He looked forward to being the one to do so.

“You never answered my question,” Remus said as Sirius set their dishes in the sink and spun around several times, looking slightly lost.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” 

“Is it bad we were just shagging each other in their house while they’re visiting James’ sick grandma?”

Sirius paused his aimless wandering of the kitchen. His cheeks were still tinged a gratifying pink. “Nahh,” he said casually. “Prongs told us to have fun while he’s gone, didn’t he?”

Remus snorted. “Pretty sure he didn’t have that in mind.”

Sirius’ lips twitched. “Maybe not, but it’d be a waste not to.”

“True. We’d have had to wait like two weeks otherwise.”

Sirius’ expression of mild embarrassment turned to one of unabashed disbelief. “What, you weren’t thinking of trying at all?”

He shrugged.

Certainly, he’d thought about it, fantasised about Sirius sneaking into his bed at night, unable to stay away. Still, he also remembered that the last time that had happened, they’d nearly been caught, and Sirius subsequently had been sent running.

Of course, a lot had changed since then, their first time together. Remus was surprised to realise how far they’d actually come, while he simultaneously felt they were stuck in place, only moving forward as much as they were forced into reverse.

But he only laughed in reply. “You were?”

“Duh! Come on, where’s your sense of adventure?”

“It’s up yours.”

A mischievous glint sparkled in Sirius’ eyes. “That it is,” he said. “That it is.”

If the countertop hadn’t been separating them, Remus would have shoved him. “You think you’re so funny.” 

“I know I’m funny—” Sirius started as a muffled voice sounded from his pocket. “Oh shit, it’s Prongs.”

Schooling his features, he fished the little mirror out of his jeans. “Jamie, hi!” he said brightly.

“Hey, Padfoot,” James said. Remus watched Sirius’ shoulders slump and wondered if that was his queue to leave. Standing from his chair, he meandered slowly around the island. Surely James wanted to talk to Sirius in private.

“How’s it… going?” Sirius was asking. His voice had lost the inappropriate chipper tone. 

“It’s—yeah, we’re doing okay.”

“Okay, that’s… good.” Sirius glanced up from the mirror to look at Remus. He bit his lip. “Moony’s here too.”

“Oh, good. Hi, Moony,” James called.

Remus mumbled an awkward hello, shaking his head at Sirius when he motioned him over.

“What have you guys been doing?” he heard James ask.

“Nothing much. We just got up. Had breakfast…”

“Bit late, innit? I hope you’re not getting up to anything while I’m gone,” James said, some of the liveliness returning to his voice. 

Sirius stiffened. “We were both tired.”

“I bet you got into Dad’s liquor cabinet, didn’t you?”

“Fuck off. No, ‘course not.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t blame you. I could use a little something right now, to be honest.” James gave a sort of strained laugh.

Remus signalled to Sirius that he was leaving.

‘Where are you going?’ Sirius mouthed to him.

“Living room,” he whispered, indicating to the corridor behind him.

“Everything good, Padfoot?” James asked. “Can you talk more?”

“What? Yeah, Moony’s just—yeah…” Sirius’ voice faded out as Remus wandered away toward the stairs. He retrieved his book from his room, glancing briefly at the rumpled sheets and wondering what Sirius might say if he suggested they went back to bed. Putting the thought out of his mind for the time being, he continued his journey through the house. Finally reaching the living room, he deposited himself on one of the sofas and waited.

An hour or so passed before Sirius came looking for him.

“Is Prongs okay?” Remus asked as Sirius braced his forearms against the back of the couch, shifting restlessly from foot to foot.

“Says he is—not that I really believe that.”

“And his Nani?”

Sirius grimaced. “He didn’t want to talk about it.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

They remained for a few moments in mournful silence. Eventually, Sirius spoke: “But hey, he told me the rink should be good for skating. We could go.”

Remus mentally took note of his page, before setting his book aside. “Wasn’t it just raining yesterday?”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “So?”

“So, like, won’t it not have frozen yet? It hasn’t even been that cold out.”

“Moony.” Sirius leaned in closer, patting a hand on Remus’ shoulder; it was almost firm enough to be platonic. “Ever heard of a little something called magic?”

Remus looked up at him, at the radiating warmth of his cheeks, the tiny dimple at the corner of his mouth, his buzzing energy that never faded, and knew that he had.

****

“So, I don’t actually know how to skate.”

They were by the pond, skates dangling from laces between their fingers. It was still outside, the world softened by the surrounding evergreen trees—cedar and spruce, if Sirius had to guess.

“That’s okay. I’ll teach you,” he told Moony. “Do you know how to put them on?”

Remus glanced down at the skates in his hand, then back up at him. “Uh, tie the laces? Is there a specific way or something?”

Sirius smiled. “Not really. Just—well, come on, I’ll show you.”

They found a sparse rock to sit on so as to avoid the damp grass and underbrush. It was a bit crowded, the two of them on the small rock, but Sirius certainly wasn’t complaining. He pulled off his boots and tugged on his skates easily, thankful for the growing charm placed on them years ago.

“Why are yours and James’ skates different?”

“What? Oh.” Sirius laughed. “My mother thought hockey was improper. That’s what James’ are. Hockey skates. So, I have figure skates.” He chuckled again, more to himself this time. “You know, she was worried I wouldn’t turn out manly enough, but I ended up with the girly ones. Don’t know what she was thinking, really.”

Remus didn’t say anything, but made a discontented sound like, “Hm.”

“Anyway,” he said, trying not to grimace. Moony might not have known the difference before. Now, thanks to Sirius’ loose tongue, he surely did. Did he agree with his mother? Think she’d been right to worry? He’d never say it, but if anyone knew the truth, it would be him.

Turning back to the matter at hand, Sirius brushed his thoughts aside as best he could. “Basically, just make sure you pull the laces tight, even at the bottom, or else you’ll be all wobbly.”

Remus nodded and they both got to work, wrestling their laces into submission, elbows knocking together occasionally as they did so. Sirius had always hated this part, almost enough that he found skating not to be worth it. But getting the chance to teach Moony? Now, that was something he couldn’t pass up.

More practiced with the technique, Sirius did several warm-up laps of the pond as Remus finished tying. It was almost like flying, skating. The wind blew through his hair in the same way. Sirius found himself grinning as he glided across the ice, hoping Moony was watching.

“Quit showing off!”

Biting his cheek to hide his elation, Sirius spun around. Remus was wobbling precariously as he took his first steps onto the ice.

“Careful there!” Sirius called. He dashed to his side, crossing the pond in a few short seconds.

“Did you tie them up tight enough?” he asked, bending to examine Moony’s laces.

“Yeah. I think I’m just really bad at—woah!” Remus swayed forward, arms swinging ridiculously before Sirius caught hold of him, halting his slowmotion fall in its tracts.

“Please don’t fall on your head,” he told him, laughing breathily at the look of relief on Remus’ face.

“I don’t think I can promise that.” Remus took a few more wobbly steps as Sirius released him.

“Stop lifting your feet like that. You have to glide.”

“Easier said than—ah, Jesus.”

Sirius caught him again, narrowly preventing another fall. “Okay, why don’t we just—”

Should he?

Ah, fuck it.

“Here, just—take my hands,” he said, knowing the risks, how cliche and cringey he sounded, but well, how else was he supposed to teach him?

Remus hesitated for a second, but accepted, grasping both of Sirius’ hands firmly in his own. Moony’s were warm and his traitorous heart skipped a beat in his chest at the feeling.

He tried to remind himself where he’d been, not three hours earlier—what they’d been doing. But it didn’t matter. Whatever this was, it was entirely new.

What wasn’t new was the difficulty Sirius had keeping his eyes where they belonged (not on Moony’s mouth, not on Moony’s mouth, Merlin’s sake!).

“Of course you know how to skate backwards,” said Remus, proving Sirius once again alone in his distractions.

“What can I say? I’m just that talented.”

Remus scoffed. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” He stumbled slightly on a bump in the ice but Sirius was there to steady him. Soon enough his staggered steps started to flow more smoothly.

“Hey! See, you’re doing it!” Sirius cheered, heart racing. Moony’s tongue was caught between his teeth, that familiar look of concentration on his face.

“This is not safe,” he said. “This is a dangerous, dangerous sport that should be disbanded.”

“Wait till you hear about hockey sticks.”

Remus, daringly, shoved him—though, as Sirius was acting as his main support, it wasn’t the wisest idea. He promptly lost his balance, his skate blade snagging on Sirius’ before he toppled forward, dragging them both down—Remus first, Sirius landing squarely on top of him.

They groaned simultaneously in pain.

“Oh, hello,” Sirius said, grinning down at him. “That was entirely your fault, by the way.”

“Shut up.” Remus blinked, still a little dazed.

“You didn’t hit that pretty noggin of yours, did you?”

He shook his head back and forth several times.

“Good…”

Almost without thinking, Sirius leaned in. To his own surprise—and Remus’—his lips brushed not against Moony’s mouth, but the winter-flushed curve of his cheek.

His eyes widened as he pulled back to find Remus’ untouched lips parted in something close to bewilderment.

“Er, sorry, that was weird.” Scrambling upright, he brushed off his jeans hastily. “I’m gonna do a lap.”

Remus was just clambering to his feet when he returned, three laps later. “I hope you weren't thinking of abandoning me here. I think I’d have to just take my skates off and give up.”

Having worked himself down from a mini spiral in record time (okay, he was still spiralling, and what about it?) Sirius was better equipped to handle the situation. “I expected better resilience from you, Moons,” he laughed loudly. A pair of crows took off from a nearby tree at the sound.

“Come on, I’ll take you back to land,” he said, offering a hand.

It felt awfully right with Moony’s fingers interlinked with his own. When they reached the bank and Sirius let go, it was not without difficulty.

“I think I might skate a bit longer,” he told Remus. The pond was far enough from the house that he could scream and no one would hear; never had he considered that such a comforting thought.

“Actually, I’d like to stay. It’s so peaceful watching you,” Remus admitted.

Peaceful. We’ll see about that.

But he only said, “Okay. Whatever you like, Moony.”

He was about to turn away when Remus’ hands fisted in the front of his jacket, pulling enough that he jerked forwards, skate catching solid ground. Sirius found his balance around Moony’s neck as, mercifully, Remus’ lips found his. He had never kissed him so softly as he did then.

Notes:

My timing’s so off. It feels weird to be writing a winter chapter in summer, but oh well. Also, reading atyd I was like come on, why couldn’t Sirius have helped him skate, god! Is it so much to ask?? So anyway, if you thought the same, there ya go. Apparently we need fanfics of fanfics to be satisfied now.