Stary Eyed

by solar3cl1ip5e

Summary:

Remus is difficult - he knows that. He can't hold down a job, he doesn't like to let people get close, and he really sucks at living up to the person he'd hoped to be as a kid. When he's offered a job to smile for the camera and pretend to be in love, he thinks it might be the best thing he ever could've hoped for.

Except, he's working with Sirius Black. The icon of modern rock who is actually just a moody, unpredictable, hot mess. A really hot mess.

Chapter 1: Remus is Chronically Unemployed

Fuck this shit. Fuck this job. I fucking quit. 

That was what Remus had said before stomping on the coffee he'd remade three fucking times for the woman at the counter. She'd looked completely appalled at his words and Remus had to admit it was a little bit funny. But, no, he was mad - enraged. 

He'd thrown his apron down while the two girls he was working with just stared at him, silent. Then he had stalked out of the store without a plan, without his favorite beanie that he'd left in the breakroom. He would miss that beanie, he'd had it since he was nineteen. At least he still had his dignity...kind of.

Now he's walking home, back to the flat he shares with Marlene, while rain begins to sprinkle down. He hopes to make it home before it gets too bad, but he also thinks that maybe he deserves to be drenched. He had been planning on using his tips from the day to take the bus but, well, that wasn't happening now. He'd made the walk before, plenty of times, when he didn't have the extra cash for the bus fare. It's only twenty minutes or so, but his boots have this damn hole in the toe that's beginning to let in water and his sock is getting damp. 

It doesn't matter. He's in a bad fucking mood, wet socks or not. He walks hunched over, glaring at anyone who meets his eye. He feels ready to throw a punch at anyone who would let him. 

He had only lasted three weeks at the coffee shop. That was one of his worse stints at a job. Usually he could manage a month or two at the really shitty ones, but that customer was pushing him when he was already on edge. He'd woken up late that morning and had to run to work, and when he got there, they were out of stock of his favorite tea so he couldn't even get his free drink of choice for the morning. And, aside from that, he had been scheduled with this awful girl that he hated with everything he had because she wrote all the orders on the cups in such messy handwriting that Remus could barely read them. And she had the audacity to get mad at him when they came out wrong. 

Marlene is in the flat already when Remus climbs the stairs to the second floor. He can hear her music through the door. He can't decide if he's glad to see her or terrified at the prospect of telling her he'd quit another job. Probably both. 

Marlene's a bloody saint for putting up with Remus. They'd met in secondary school and had hated each other for a few months before he broke her down and they started to spend their afternoons in Remus's bedroom smoking ungodly amounts of weed and laughing until their stomachs hurt. 

"Why are you home already?" Is the first thing out of her mouth, tone suspicious. She's sitting by the window with the plastic cup she uses to water her plants. Remus debates lying for a moment, saying he'd been let off early, but he's a terrible liar, especially to Marlene who knew this fact very well. She'd figured out his tells long ago when they lied to their parents about what that smell was. The skunk problem in the suburbs is really no joke.

"Quit," he shrugs, collapsing onto the sofa that doubled as his bed. 

"Jesus christ, Remus. Already? It's been what - two weeks?" She dumps the rest of her water into a fiddly fig and gives him a pointed look. Remus slouches into the couch, crossing his arms and trying to look unbothered. 

"Three, actually," he corrects. "Don't worry I'll put in some applications online tonight."

"I literally have no idea how you've made it this far in life," she says, coming to sit beside him. He snorts and kicks at her foot with his boot. He should really get some dry socks on.

"I'm very smart, that's how," he tells her. 

"Oh yeah, mister 'can I copy your homework again?'" She rolls her eyes. 

"Just be glad I'm not in jail. I almost lost it a couple of times today. I could be facing arson charges if not for your wonderful parenting."

"You really need a job where the public does not have to deal with you," she laughs. 

"Why can't I be paid to sit on my arse and look pretty?"

"Because you're not pretty - oh shit!" She stands up suddenly, a grin spreading across her face. Remus quirks an eyebrow. 

"What? Are you just now realizing that I'm actually very handsome and your lesbianism has only gotten in the way of a torrid love affair between us?" 

"Shut the fuck up," she waves him off. "I was going to say that I think I have the perfect job for you, but now you've gone and pissed me off."

"Wait, no, Marls, I love you and your love for women." Remus holds out his hands in a show of surrender.

She shakes her head, laughing. "Fine, ok. You remember Lily? From that one year you attended university?" 

"Red hair? Looked like she could kick my ass and I would thank her? Yeah, rings a bell," Remus muses. He'd only met Lily once or twice, but one of those times had been at a party where she'd thrown a drink in some bloke's face. 

"That's the one," Marlene nods. "I was just talking to her and she's looking for someone like you to come do some shit with one of the bands she works for." 

"What kind of shit?" Remus furrows his brow. He knew Lily did something at a record company that managed bands and solo artists. He thought that was kind of cool, something he would like to do but never had the energy to actually pursue. 

"I don't know exactly, she said she couldn't tell me. Something that sounded like a lot of sitting on your ass and looking pretty," she says. 

"Sign me the fuck up then," Remus grins.

"I'll get you her number."

Chapter 2: He's Literally Just Some Guy

Remus double and triple checks that he's in the right spot. Lily had sent him this address, this floor number, but it seems far too fancy for someone like him to be in. The elevator had opened out into a lobby with white leather sofas and black paneled walls decorated in framed album covers. There's one other person here, a girl with a half-shaved head and tattoos up her neck, lounging on one of those sofas and looking very bored as she scrolls on her phone. 

Remus most certainly does not belong here. 

He's just some bloke in second-hand clothes and worn out boots. He's a uni dropout and completely incapable of holding down a job. He has a scar across his nose - the aftermath of a bar fight that ended with the other guy smashing his beer bottle and swinging it at Remus's face. At least he hadn't been arrested that night. He'd had enough run-ins with the police to know how to play the victim and avoid a night in a jail cell. 

Remus has a bad temper and an even worse attitude. He's impossible to keep employed, impossible to keep entertained, and impossible to like half the time. His friends consist of Marlene - who he still doesn't quite understand the reason why she keeps him around - and whoever she considers friendly enough to invite to the club with them on their nights out. 

"Hiya, hon, how can I help you?" A woman with long blonde hair smiles at him from the reception desk. She has little feathers and jewels in the waves of it, and is wearing a loose crop top. She's like if a fairy and a punk had a baby. Everyone here is definitely too cool for Remus to be around. He stuffs his hands into his pockets out of habit and slouches as he approaches. 

"Hi, yeah, I'm looking for Lily Evans," he answers. She keeps right on smiling under his gaze - which he'd been told once or twice made him look very unfriendly. He wishes that he could be polite enough to work any kind of customer service job. It was one of the few things he was qualified for. Except, maybe, for the fact that he couldn't keep himself from blowing up on any one who pissed him off. 

"Do you have an appointment?" The woman asks. 

"Oh, shit, I don't know." Was he supposed to bloody call and ask to see Lily today? How was he supposed to know that? "She said to come by today, just tell her it's Remus," he tries. It would be incredibly humiliating if he walked out of here without even getting an interview. Marlene would have his bollocks. 

"Oh, yes, I see you right here. Just give me one moment," the woman smiles and picks up the phone next to her, pressing a few buttons. "Hi Miss Evans, I've got Remus Lupin here to see you...ok, alright...yes, you're very welcome." She hangs up the phone and turns her attention back to Remus, still standing there feeling very awkward with his hands in his pockets. He wonders if it's too late to run out. "Right down the hall, honey, door at the end."

Remus looks to where she pointed, a little hallway behind the desk with a sign above it that said authorized personnel only. He guesses that's him. "Thanks," he nods to the receptionist and heads toward the hall. 

It's black, like the rest of the lobby, dim lighting making it feel kind of cramped. There are a few more framed albums and one or two records that had gone gold. Remus does not recognize a single one. He wonders what kind of bands this place managed. He hopes it isn't all just a bunch of teenage boy bands. That would make this job seem way less cool. 

He knocks at the door at the end of the hall and hears a faint come in from inside. 

It's like a breath of fresh air inside the room. The entire back wall is made up of windows, overlooking the London skyline, and the walls are painted white. It's so bright that the lights aren't even on. He sees Lily, sitting at the long table in the center of the room, and a round-faced man next to her. 

It feels even more official in here. It's like a conference room you'd see on some law drama on TV. There's a huge whiteboard at the end of the room and a pull down projector screen above it. It feels a bit like a classroom, which Remus hates the idea of. He hopes no one will ask him to recite his times tables. He's rubbish at maths. 

"Hi, Remus, I'm so glad you could make it in today," Lily says, smiling warmly. She stands from her chair and offers a hand. It's bizarre, really. This Lily in a dark green pantsuit with her red hair in a sleek ponytail resembles nothing of the feisty girl he remembers. 

"Hi," he says, shaking her hand and feeling awkward once more. He is definitely not the kind of person to be in a room like this, with people like this. 

"Have a seat," she gestures to one of the swivel chairs opposite her and the other man. "This is Peter, he's the manager for the artist we'll be discussing today." 

Peter, the round-faced man, nods at him. He's in a three-piece suit, hair neat, and wears a tie. Remus can't remember the last time he wore a tie. Maybe the formal during his last year of school. He does remember hating it and overall feeling like a bit of a ponce for wearing it. He is not at all like this man who wears suits to work and probably has a dry-cleaner on speed dial. 

"Now, Remus," Lily continues, "you'll have to sign an NDA before we can talk today." She slides a stack of papers toward him, placing her hands on the huge folder before her. "You're just agreeing not to disclose any information to any outside parties when you leave here today, regardless of if we decide to hire you or not." 

Remus nods, scanning over the pages. Should he have brought a lawyer to this? He thought it was a bloody job interview. How does someone even go about hiring a lawyer? He considers the fact that he could very well be signing his life away without realizing it, and signs anyway. 

"Lovely," Lily smiles. 

"Remus Lupin, is it?" Peter asks, looking very serious all of a sudden. Remus sits up straighter, trying to look serious himself. He never tries very hard in interviews, most places he applies to are so desperate for employees that he's offered the job on the spot.

"Yeah," he says. 

"How familiar are you with Sirius Black?" 

The name rings a bell. He guesses that's the artist that Peter and Lily represent. Would he be working with him? Was Remus really being considered to be a - what? An intern? He doesn't know exactly. But, they want him to do something for an implied celebrity? He is completely out of his depth here. 

"I think I've heard him on the radio before," he shrugs. "I'm not, like, a superfan, if that's what you're asking." 

He wonders if that's bad - if not knowing who the hell they were talking about made him look like an idiot. He can't help the fact that his taste in music mainly consists of bands from the eighties and whatever weird indie shit Marlene put on. 

"Perfect," Peter says. 

Ok, so they don't want Remus to know who Sirius Black is. Where the hell is this going then? 

"Sirius Black is one of the artists we work for," Lily explains. "He's not very fond of doing interviews or promoting his music in general, so we're looking for someone to help drive up his public image."

"Ok..." Remus says, still not quite understanding. "Where do I come in? You lot know I'm just some guy, right? Like, I literally worked at a coffee shop until yesterday." 

Lily and Peter both laugh. "Yes, Remus," Peter says. "That's what we're looking for. We need someone who isn't in the public eye already. Someone we can shape the image of." He kind of gestures with his hands when he speaks. 

"To do what?" Remus quirks an eyebrow. What good is he and his thirty Instagram followers to help some artist get attention?

"Well, to pretend to date Sirius," Lily provides. 

"I'm sorry, what now?" 

This is not at all what Remus was expecting. He knew that relationships between celebrities were almost always for publicity, but why pick some guy off the street to do that? Couldn't they just pair him up with another one of their musicians and get double the exposure? 

He asks them as much and they laugh again. Remus fights the urge to throw his hands up in frustration. Who were they to laugh at his ignorance. He'd just walked in this place for the first time and now he was expected to already know everything there was about the music industry and the ins and outs of fabricated relationships? Ridiculous.

He keeps his composure. Marlene would not be happy if she heard he'd thrown chairs and stormed out of the building before even hearing out the whole offer. 

"You see, we need someone that we can mold into whatever is going to get Sirius the most engagement from his audience," Lily explains. "Nobody knows a single thing about him because he refuses to tell anyone. This is our way of driving up interest so we can sell albums and concert tickets." 

"Is he a huge prick or something?" Remus asks. That would certainly make the whole sitting on his ass and looking pretty part less enjoyable.

"Not really, no," Lily says. "He's just...aloof." 

"So you need me to make him look good?" 

"Exactly," Peter says, looking very pleased at Remus's ability to catch on. He nearly rolls his eyes. He isn't that thick.

"Just some social media posts, fake dates, get photographed by the paparazzi here and there." Lily is flicking through the papers in her folder now. "We'll have to do a background check and ask you a few questions to make sure you're a good fit." 

"Ok," Remus nods. Free dinners and just generally looking good seems right up his alley. Marlene was right, this is the perfect job for him.  

Chapter 3: At Least He's Hot

The screening process, as they had called it, was mostly a bunch of questions that seemed a little too in depth for what the job entailed, and a stack of forms to fill out. It's a good two hours later that Remus is allowed to leave. Lily walks him back out to the lobby and says she'll call as soon as his background check comes through and they would discuss the logistics of the job further. 

Remus isn't sure what to feel as he emerges back onto the busy streets of London. It's the kind of job he didn't know he'd always wanted, but it's also fucking weird. How would he explain this to Marlene. Could he even tell her? He did sign that form. He should really find a lawyer. Or maybe just some law student to pretend to be a lawyer for him. 

He still does not have money for the bus or to take the tube back to his flat, so he walks. It isn't raining today, at least. Still, the early autumn comes with brisk winds and a biting kind of cold. He wishes he'd brought a jacket to put on over his sweater. If this job turned out, he would go to all the best charity shops and buy every last piece of winter clothing they had. He was always just a little too cold in the jacket his mum had gotten him before he'd left for uni. 

That was almost seven years ago now. All Remus has to show for it is a long list of failed jobs and a lot of former employers who would likely have his head on a stake if they could. 

No way could he tell his parents that, though. As far as they knew he'd dropped out of uni to pursue his dreams of being a writer and now works as a low-level editor at a publishing company that he always conveniently forgets to tell them the name of.  He hasn't seen them since last Christmas, anyway. He would hate for his carefully constructed lies to slip and expose him as the dead beat he really is. His mum would probably start to cry, and his dad would go red in the face, that vein bulging in his forehead as he struggled with how best to lecture him. 

But, if this did turn out to be a real job, he would be all over tabloids and his parents would probably have some questions about that. He hopes his mum's subscription to Celebrity Weekly has expired by now. If he had never heard of Sirius Black, then he couldn't be that big of a deal, right? Maybe he could get away with flying under the radar with this too. 

Remus is starving by the time he gets home. He would've liked to stop at the sandwich place around the corner, but again, no money. He has enough in his account to pay this month's rent and utilities, that's it. That was one thing he prided himself on, he'd never missed his bills, he'd always been good for that. Marlene would've kicked him to the curb ages ago if she kept having to pick up his slack. 

She could easily afford a bigger place - one where Remus would not be sleeping on her couch and the hot water worked consistently. Remus knows that she keeps the flat because anything bigger would mean he'd have to pay more as well. Whenever he asks her, though, she always says it's because she loves not having to walk far for work and that she thinks the place is cozy. 

It is decidedly not cozy, in Remus's opinion. All the lights are yellowed, and the kitchen is so worn with use that no amount of bleach and scrubbing could make it shine. There's water damage on the bathroom floor that came with the place, and the cracks in the ceiling made Remus nervous that if there were ever an earthquake they'd both be goners. The elevator never works, which is alright now, but a real pain in the arse when they were moving in, and their landlord is probably the worst person Remus has ever met. They'd been complaining about the broken air-con for two years now, but there's still no sign of anyone coming to fix it. 

Remus's things are allotted to a wardrobe in the corner of the living room, and a small chest of drawers that doubled as their coffee table. His bed is a sofa that's sunken in the middle and had always smelled a little funny to him. Every bit of furniture in the flat is Marlene's. When they decide to part ways he'll be starting from square one. Remus fears that day like the coming of the Antichrist. He knows it's coming. Marlene is obviously ready to be on her own. She never brings back any of her girlfriends because doing so would mean walking right through Remus's "bedroom" on their way to hers. 

And, don't get him wrong, he feels awful about it. He knows he's a burden to Marlene, no matter how much she loves him. He would've been out of her hair years ago if he ever could've gotten on his own two feet. He's just rubbish at figuring out how to do that. He's never liked the idea of a nine-to-five. He had originally been at uni to become a teacher, but his inability to keep with any kind of structure made him fail out of most of his classes. He's just not wired the way the rest of the world is. He can't wrap his mind around doing the same thing all day everyday until he has enough money to move on to something else. 

At least he's good at money. He's been broke long enough to know how to make it stretch. He's gotten good at slipping things into his pockets at the shops when he knows he can't afford his rent and eat in a month. He feels guilty every time Marlene makes the two of them dinner knowing he's only ever served her stolen pasta. 

Remus settles onto his sofa and takes his laptop from the coffee table. He should probably put in some applications anyway, just in case that this bizarre job doesn't work out.  It seems too good to be true, but Lily is not someone he's ever seen as a scam artist. Plus, that building was so legit that Remus is having trouble seeing any cracks in their offer - aside from the fact that it's him they're making the offer to. 

His background check will show them that he's been arrested twice, once for disorderly conduct and once for assault - an altercation on a night out that had gotten blown way out of proportion. Both charges were dropped, but they're still on his record. He's a slave to bar fights and petty crime. More than once, Marlene has had to hold him back from doing something he'd really regret. She's much stronger than she looks, especially when Remus is pissed off his face at three in the morning. 

He dutifully fills out a few forms for nearby shops and one for a line cook. His specialty in the kitchen consists of anything you can microwave, but it's worth a shot. He could probably manage flipping burgers and frying eggs. 

Job hunting geets boring after a while, given the fact that he's burned so many businesses in the past that his prospects are becoming incredibly thin. He might have to suck it up and start taking the tube to work if it goes on any longer. 

He opens a new tab and decides to do his own form of a background check. He types Sirius Black into the search bar and skimms the results. Lily wasn't lying, there are hardly any interviews from the guy, and the ones he does find are either a year old or a sentence-long statement given to a magazine.

He clicks on a link to his Instagram instead and is pleasantly surprised to see that his new possible fake-boyfriend is really quite attractive. The last photo he'd posted was one of him on stage. He has wild black hair that reaches his shoulders and a dangerous look in his eye as he screams something into the microphone he's holding. The lights from the stage drench him in red and orange, adding to the effect his shirtless body has on Remus. He's with tattoos, and his jeans hang low on his hips. 

At least if Remus is supposed to be dating the guy he wouldn't be stuck with some ugly git. Although, standing next to him, Remus might be considered an ugly git. He knows the scar on his nose only accentuated how crooked it was, and he's far too tall to ever have had a real grasp on his own limbs. He thinks he looks a bit like a baby deer learning to walk for the first time. One thing was for sure, he'd certainly make Sirius look good. 

 

He's still deep in his stalking when Marlene comes home. She dumps her bag on the floor and kicks her shoes in opposite directions before heading straight to the window where she likes to perch on the sill and absorb the positive vibes from her plants after work. Remus shuts his computer and goes to join her. 

"How'd it go today?" She asks, stroking the leaf of a snake plant.

"Good...I think," he shrugs. 

"That's great, Rem," she smiles. "What do they want you to do?" 

"I don't know if I'm allowed to talk about it," he rubs the back of his neck. He doesn't like to keep things from Marlene. She's known every facet of his life since they were fifteen and he was confused as to why he wanted to makeout with girls and boys. "They made me sign some form that said they'd sue the pants off me if I told anyone what we'd talked about."

Marlene laughs and pushes her hair out of her face. The wind from outside is blowing a cold chill into the flat. "I'm not a snitch," she assures. 

"Alright, fine," he concedes. He probably won't be able to keep it from Marlene for long anyway. If he really is supposed to be dating some bloke she would be awfully confused as to why she'd never met him before or heard Remus say a single word about it. "They're considering me to be Sirius Black's fake boyfriend."

"What?" She gasps. "That's insane," she shakes her head. 

"I know," he nods. "Still have to pass the background check, though. I don't know if they want to put him with a hardened criminal like me," he grins, trying to make light of it. 

"If you didn't glare at everyone all the time people would probably think you were just a sweet little guy." She pinches his cheek and he ducks away from her. "Once you master smiling you're a shoo-in."

"Gee, thanks, Marls," he rolls his eyes. 

"Still, Sirius Black," she muses, staring out the window. "If you get to fake date him can I be your guys's gay best friend? I love his music."

"You do? I don't think I've ever heard any of it."

"Oh, come on," she scoffs. "You were just singing along to one of his the other night."

"Was I?" 

"Yes, the one you always say reminds you of if Queen and The Rolling Stones had a love child."

"That's Sirius Black?" He fucking loves that song. How had he never known who it was by?

"Yes, you dumbass," she says. 

"Oh, well, damn I might jump his bones for real then."

 

Chapter 4: Remus Gets A Job!

Remus decides that there is far too much time in the day as he embarks on yet another stint of unemployment. Usually he'd apply to a bunch of jobs and walk around the city while he waited for a call back. Now, he's a little too hopeful about Lily's offer to send in anymore applications. He doesn't want to start another dead-end food service job if the prospect of being paraded around with some celebrity is on the table. 

He spends the first day searching the couch cushions for spare change so he can go buy a hot coffee and walks almost five miles in one direction before turning around to come home. The next day his feet are too beat up from the hole in his boots that's seemingly getting bigger. He decides to be useful and cleans the flat, scrubbing away at the faded linoleum counters and vacuuming over the stained carpet. Marlene is pretty pleased when she gets home that evening, at least. 

On the third day, Remus falls into a rabbit hole slouched over his laptop, breakfast abandoned on the coffee table while he scrolls. He reads every last bit of information he can find on Sirius in the most dubious looking magazines and watches every interview he comes across. There's a lot of speculation around the elusive Sirius Black, due to the fact that there is nothing of substance at all online. 

He learns that Sirius is reportedly 5'10", has been making music since he was fourteen, and released his first EP at seventeen called Black Sheep. Remus, personally, thinks the name is a bit on the nose. He listens to his latest album, Hollow, and finds himself pleasantly surprised. It's a little less punchy than the song that Marlene always plays for him, but it's still heavy with bass and drums and a particular guitar solo that gives him goosebumps. The lyrics are full of metaphors and vague references to things that Remus can't quite decode. Reading them feels a little too personal - especially since he could possibly be actually meeting the guy. He moves on to his Twitter instead. 

A lot of it Remus can tell are publicist tweets. He imagines about Lily typing them out, attaching the polished line up of tour dates and photos taken in front of nondescript backgrounds. Every once in a while, though, Remus finds a post that he is sure Lily could not have made. 

 if you've never watched the cult classic that is Once Upon A Time In Hollywood, I'm sorry but we can't be friends

There was a reply from @JPotter under that one. 

I was BUSY!!! I will go with you next time!!!

Remus tries to investigate his account, but only finds a load of footie shit. He's never really gotten into the sport, as much as his dad had tried to coax him to the couch to watch. He seems to be a decent player, but other than that, Remus can't find any more information to add to his collection. 

I think I hate lemons. Is that wrong of me?

What if I did a whole concert only playing a ukulele? Would you all hate me?  

Thinking a lot about bees today. 

These little glimpses are so bizarre that they really don't do much to enlighten Remus. Still, he keeps looking. He finds an interview of Sirius at eighteen, recorded right before he went on tour for the first time, opening for another band. His hair is shorter and he's dressed much more conservatively than he is in recent Instagram posts. He talks about how excited he is to travel, about playing live. He looks much more lively here than he does in any of his recent public appearances. Even in paparazzi photos, he glares at the camera and wears a hood and sunglasses to hide his face. 

The clips of his concerts were the only thing that make Remus feel like he's actually seeing the guy be himself. He never stops moving on stage, dancing like his body is made of water, singing with a throaty voice that Remus thinks sounds much better live than it does recorded. Most of the time, he's wearing jeans so tight they look painted on, and thin t-shirts or no shirt at all. Remus has to admit that he was bloody hot like that. 

It's four when he gets the call, wistfully looking to the door, awaiting Marlene's return to entertain him. He nearly jumps at the ringtone, fumbling his phone as he tries to get it up to his ear. 

"Hello?"

"Hi, Remus!" Lily's voice is excited. Remus can't help his smile. 

"What's up?" He picks at a loose thread on the couch just for something to do with his hands. 

"Well, we've gotten your background check and it looks like we're all good to go on our end here. If you're still interested -" 

"Yes! I'm still interested," he says, immediately biting his tongue, embarrassed at his own outburst. "Sorry, I mean, please go on." Sirius's Instagram stares back at him on his laptop - a photo of him on a balcony of some posh hotel room. 

"Ok, good to hear," Lily laughs. "If you're free tomorrow morning, we'd like to have you come in and go over a few more details and meet Sirius properly."

"Yeah, sounds good." 

Remus rubs at the back of his neck, staring at the man he would be face to face with soon. He's beginning to sorely regret all this "research". He hopes he won't be starstruck or something stupid. He remembers telling Lily and Peter how he wasn't a superfan - which he still isn't - but he knows far more about Sirius now than he had a week ago. It makes his insides twist uncomfortably. 

Just as Remus hangs up with Lily, confirming a time, the door opens. He turns to grin wildly at Marlene. She looks back with raised eyebrows, dropping her bag on the table by the door slowly instead of on the floor. 

"Your roommate is no longer unemployed," he informs her. 

"Oh, thank god," she laughs, and then, "we need to celebrate!"

She's a whirlwind in a second, going to the kitchen for glasses, to the bar cart for the fancy wine, then back to the kitchen for a corkscrew, talking a mile a minute all the while. 

"You're gonna be famous, Rem! Oh my god, you'll probably get to tag along to tons of fancy vacations - imagine how nice the hotel rooms will be. Imagine it! I'm so jealous, Remus. Can I still be your gay best friend? I promise I'll bring all kinds of shit to the table, I'll -"

"Do we need a gay best friend if we're already gay?" 

"Yes, of course you do."

"Ok, Marls," Remus laughs. "I'll see if Lily will write you up your own contract."

"Perfect." She sits herself beside Remus on the couch, pouring out the wine. "Jeez, stalker much?" She looks over at Remus's laptop and he flushes red, seeing his dozen tabs all about Sirius still open. 

"It's called research," he attempts, slamming it shut. 

"You can tell me that it's because you think he's hot," she quirks an eyebrow. Remus rolls his eyes. 

"Of course he's hot, like objectively," he admits. "But, I'm not fangirling over him or whatever."

"Uh-huh." She sips her wine with a look that tells Remus that she sees right through his bullshit. 

He is not fangirling over Sirius. "I'm not." 

"Tell me that again after you snog for the paps and fall deeply in love with him."

"I have no intention of falling in love with some bloke who spends all his time writing emo-ass songs and looks like he's going to murder anyone who points a camera at him." 

"I thought you liked his emo-ass music?" 

"That's beside the point."

Marlene laughs and Remus throws back his wine in one go. He feels like he might need a drink or two to get through the next few days. 

Chapter 5: Let's Hold Hands, Darling

Lily takes him to her personal office in the morning, giant coffee thermos in hand while she clicks down the hall in very expensive looking shoes. Remus tries to ignore the hole in his boot and sips his own coffee from a cardboard cup. It's too hot and tastes a little burnt, but he isn't exactly in a position to complain at this point. 

Lily works in a corner office with windows on two of the walls. Her desk is massive, a film of papers covering the surface. Remus sits in one of the high-backed chairs across from her and tries not to let his leg bounce out of nerves so much. She writes with a pen that has a pink pom-pom dangling off the end - a gift from a friend she claims. 

Remus signs a three-month contract that they would revisit at the end of the term to see if he was willing to sign on for another six months. He can hardly fathom doing nine months at the same job without losing his mind, but this is not flipping burgers or making flat whites. There has to be a first time for everything, he guesses. 

"We'll do a little photo shoot with you and Sirius today, nothing professional, just me and my work phone. It'll be a soft-launch, to see how his fan-base reacts, and then we can move onto bringing you more into the public eye. You'll have to private all your social media accounts - we might just make you some new ones if we go down that road."

Remus nods along, feeling foggy and waiting for the caffeine to kick in. He tries to take in the information. All his social media is already private and embarrassingly bare. He doesn't think he's even posted since a year ago. He prefers to lurk online, scouring other people's profiles when he's feeling sorry about his own personal miserable existence. 

He signs more papers, more NDAs, more contracts, agrees to terms. He writes down his bank details for direct deposit, gawks at the number of his three-month salary. He would be able to pay his rent for a year and then some. Lily takes his phone upon request and reviews his accounts. She goes ahead and follows Sirius on all of them, then double checked they were all private. Most of his accounts consist of retweets and a few photos of him out with Marlene. He's beginning to think that anyone who's an online stalker like him would be sorely disappointed to see that the heartthrob Sirius Black is dating someone so unbelievably boring. 

Before he knows it, Lily is ushering him back out of her office, through the lobby, and down another hallway. She takes a long drink from her thermos, straightening out her blouse as they wait for the elevator. She's so put together, her coppery hair in perfect curls today, shirt tucked into pressed trousers, shoes shined so much that Remus could see his own face in them. He wonders if he should've put in a bit more effort this morning. 

"I made Sirius come in today so you guys could meet and I could get the photos I need," she explains as they step onto the elevator. She punches the number seven button with a red fingernail and continues, "So, naturally, he made James come in too, and they've been in the studio pretending to be working for the past hour."

"Didn't he just release an album?" Remus looks at her, lipstick still intact even after all that coffee. 

"The gifted never sleep," she says with a hint of sarcasm. "Bloody impossible to get anything done when he brings James in," she mutters. Remus chuckles. "He gave me the ring, but I genuinely considered putting James in a relationship with him instead." 

Remus's eyes drop to her hand wrapped around the handle of her thermos, a diamond indeed rested there on her finger. 

"They're close then?" He tries. This is interesting. This is more than he got from his hours of scrolling and googling last night. 

"Attached at the fucking hip," she rolls her eyes. The doors open to another posh lobby with more white sofas and a white-gold chandelier. 

They weave through another series of hallways to a door labeled Studio 18. The neon light above the door is off. Lily raps her knuckles once and pushes right on in. 

There, right in front of his eyes, in the flesh, is Sirius Black, lounging on a much more comfortable looking sofa than the ones in the lobby. He has a guitar resting across his lap, the neck of it digging into his shoulder. He's wearing a hoodie and jeans, hair loose over the arm of the couch, looking entirely at ease as he plucks the strings idly. 

"Meet your boyfriend, Sirius," Lily says, crossing to the other side of the room. Remus sees James Potter - football legend himself - sitting in the swivel chair at a board of about a thousand buttons and switches. She gives him a swift kiss on the cheek before pulling a phone out of her pocket and tapping away. 

"So this is who you think I'd pull?" 

Remus glances back to Sirius who is looking him up and down with an arched eyebrow. He crosses his arms, defensive. This was a terrible idea. He's going to be forced to pretend to fawn over this fucking asshole and his stupid beautiful face and his stupid graceful fingers that are still trailing over the neck of his guitar.

He clears his throat. "Sorry, Gosling was busy."

A laugh sounds from the other end of the room. James is grinning at Remus. "He's perfect," he says. Lily shoots him a pleased look. 

"Yeah, alright." Sirius has a half smile tugging at his mouth now and Remus feels his shoulders relax a little. "Come sit down, darling, tell me why I'm supposedly in love with you." 

Sirius swings his legs off the sofa, resting the guitar at the end of it. He pats the space next to him like Remus is a fucking dog he's trying to get to come give him a cuddle. He fights an eyeroll and fails. 

"Obviously my looks," he says as he sits. He had truly tried to look nice this morning, pulling out his one button-down and jeans without holes in the knees. His hair was a lost cause. Marlene had tried a hundred times to get him to use the products she picked up especially for his curls, but it all seemed like so much work when he could just throw on a beanie and hide it all from the world. A beanie did not seem professional for the occasion today though, so his hair is on display for all to see. 

"Obviously," Sirius agrees, resting his elbow on the back of the couch to look at Remus. His hair is all pushed to one side, falling gracefully over his face. It disgusts Remus how perfect he looks even at eight-thirty in the bloody morning. "And you fell for me because I'm unbelievably witty and charming."

"I'm pretty sure it was the fame and money, but we can go with that," Remus shoots back. Sirius laughs then, a startling barking sound. Remus finds he quite likes it, a sense of pride swelling in his chest at having caused it.

"Right, fame and money and looks, the basis of every healthy relationship. Please do go on."

"I'm still holding out for you to write a breakup song about me when I leave you crying in a hotel room." 

Sirius has a lopsided, smug grin, a movie star grin, all perfect white teeth and full pink lips. 

"Already bickering like an old married couple," James muses from the swivel chair. "I like him, Lils. Can we keep him?" 

Remus tries very hard not to blush. 

"Only if the internet does," Lily answers. "Speaking of," she points her phone at them and snaps a photo. "I want a close up of just your hands, Instagram will love that shit." 

And, so, Remus is instructed to pose with Sirius. Lily takes a lot of photos, mostly of Sirius at the center and just one part of Remus's body in the edge of the frame. She makes them hold hands, takes more shots, instructs Remus to put his legs in Sirius's lap and James to sit on the other side of him. He feels awkward the entire time, glad his face would not be in any pictures as he figures he has a terribly unflattering expression on it for the majority of their little photoshoot session. 

Sirius thinks the whole thing is hilarious, apparently. He plays mercy with Remus when they're meant to be holding hands and shoves his ice cold finger under the cuffs of his jeans and onto his ankles when Remus put his legs in his lap. He cackles at the yelp Remus lets out and pushes his fingers further up. 

Lily has to leave to go do actual work after a while, but she tells Remus to stay and get to know Sirius better. He can think of nothing he was less inclined to do at the moment, but again, this was a job. It's better than getting yelled at for not adding enough foam to a cappuccino at least. 

"So, Remus, my dear love," Sirius begins. Remus rolls his eyes. He's not a fan of the pet names Sirius had taken to calling him. "Are you a fan of mine, or is this a 'not like other girls' kind of thing." He uses exaggerated air quotes and Remus's eyes were beginning to hurt from being rolled so much in a such a short span of time. 

"I've heard a few songs," he shrugs. "They were alright."

"You wound me, darling, you really do." Sirius puts a hand to his chest. 

"And here you were worried you'd get some mega fan," James laughs. He's moved to one of the arm chairs now, fiddling with a guitar of his own. He's competent, but Sirius keeps playing complicated riffs that put him to shame. Remus does not think that's attractive in the slightest. 

"I was not," Sirius says, indignant. 

"I think you might be a narcissist, Sirius." 

The glare Remus receives in response is so intense that he has to laugh. 

"I'm beginning to regret committing my love to you."

"Believe me, so am I."

 

Later, back on his sofa, Remus pulls up Sirius's Instagram. There's a new post to his story - the one of their fingers laced together. It had come out much better than Remus had imagined it would, he had to hand it to Lily. His scuffed, tan knuckles met Sirius's pale fingers, adorned with silver rings and black fingernails. An uncomfortable sort of flutter disrupts his chest. 

He sends the post to Marlene. 

Officially in a deep homoerotic relationship to make rent this month. 

Chapter 6: Sirius Is An Asshole

A week passes. Remus obsessively checks every one of Sirius's pages. He turns on his post notifications - though he would not admit it out loud to Marlene who saw one of them when she was snooping over his shoulder during dinner one night. He reads a fluff piece on Twitter about someone dissecting the post to Sirius's story. They dug up close-ups of the hands of every man that Sirius had been seen with recently, comparing fingernail length and skin tones. 

It's ridiculous, the whole thing. 

Sirius sends him fanart of the picture of their hands. Lily posts the photo of Sirius and James sitting on the sofa in the recording studio, laughing at each other with Remus's legs on display in his lap. Sirius has a hand on his thigh, just above his knee, right where the photo had cut off. It puts to rest the rumors that Sirius's mystery boyfriend was James Potter, at least. Sirius sends him more fanart. 

Remus: Why are people so obsessed with who you're dating?

Sirius: bc I'm incredibly sexy and desirable 

Sirius: u should feel honored to have been in such close quarters with me Remus Lupin

Remus: You really are a narcissist.

Remus: Why not get an actual boyfriend?

Sirius: and throw away the wonderful relationship we have!? Remus are you trying to break my heart? 

Remus: I have to get that song somehow.

Lily emails him to say they'll be doing their first outing for the paparazzi on Saturday. Just coffee and a short walk through London, enough to get the pictures to the tabloids. Remus figures he should tell his parents before he gets a frantic phone call asking why his face was on the cover of some magazine. 

"Remus! I'm so glad you called, I was just about to ask about Christmas. Are you going to make it home again this year? Your dad and I miss you so much." 

Remus loves his parents, really. His mum dotes over him, asks about his fake job at the publishing company, and his father makes a real effort to try to understand why he spent so much of his teenage years in a pile of books or reeking of weed and not out joining the rugby team or going on dates. He enjoys hearing his mum's excited voice over the phone, looks forward to seeing them for the holidays. He hates lying to them. He hates that he isn't the smart kid with perfect grades, flying through thick books in one sitting anymore.

"Hi, mum. Yeah, I should be able to come home for Christmas." He bites at his thumbnail. He could just tell her. He could just say that he'd quit his editor gig, that he's focusing on his own writing, that he's doing fine, that he has enough saved up that he doesn't need a job at the moment. The idea of the disappointed tone in her voice makes him keep his mouth shut. 

"Oh good," she barrels on. "Your dad has been researching all kinds of turkey recipes since July, we're going to need help to eat the inevitable feast he's going to make."

"Yeah, alright," Remus manages a little laugh. He has to do this. He has to do it now or else he'll never have the balls to. "I've been meaning to tell you guys something." His thumb has begun to bleed. He sucks at it. 

"What's going on, love? Is everything alright?" 

"Oh, yeah, everything's fine, don't worry." It's the concern in her voice, like she's waiting for the day Remus calls and says he's in too deep and needs out. "I've started seeing someone, and well..." He trails off, not knowing how to tell his mum that he's likely going to be trending on Twitter in the near future. 

"That's great, baby! Are you bringing them home for Christmas? We'd love to meet them."

"No, he's, uh, busy for Christmas." He hadn't even considered the possibility of his parents wanting to meet Sirius. God, that would be awkward. "He's actually going to be on tour then. He's kind of, well, like, a musician, I guess." 

"Oh." She sounds surprised. There's a heavy pause while Remus starts to gnaw at another hangnail, punishing his fingers. "Do you think we've heard of him?"

"No, probably not, mum," Remus laughs again. He imagines his mum in her sedan listening to Sirius sing about vulgar things through metaphors. "His name's Sirius, and I just wanted to let you know in case you see me on some magazine or something."

"That sounds like a lot, Remus," she sighs. There it is. "Are you sure you're ok with all this attention? I know how you liked to be in your own little bubble when you were little."

"Yes, mum, I'm fine with it." He presses a thumb to his newly bleeding finger, trying to resist the urge to huff and moan like a teenager once again. "I've gotta go, work stuff. I love you, I'll see you for Christmas."

She barely has time to say she loves him too before he's hanging up and tossing his phone across the room. 

 

A car comes to pick him up mid-morning on Saturday. Remus tugs a beanie low on his ears and puts on a pair of sunglasses. Lily had been very clear that they still wanted to keep the mystery alive, even if his partially covered face was going to be plastered on the cover of every trashy magazine and fan account. 

The car is all black, with windows tinted so dark Remus can only see his reflection as he approaches. He slides open the door to be greeted with the sight of Sirius already making himself comfortable in the back. There's four seats, facing each other, and he's got his feet up on the one opposite him, phone in hand, his own sunglasses pushed up onto his head. 

"Morning," Remus mutters, sitting diagonal from him. 

"Remus, my love," Sirius looks up. Remus notices that he doesn't look quite as lively as he had before. There's circles under his eyes. "What the hell are those?" His face screws up, looking right into Remus's eyes under his sunglasses. 

He touches the bridge of them self consciously. He'd had them since last summer when he'd gone with Marlene for a beach trip. It was unbearably sunny and giving him a headache, so as he was passing a stand outside a shop with rows and rows of sunglasses, one of them slipped into his pocket. He'd never really considered how they looked. They were free and kept his retinas from burning. 

"They're fucking sunglasses," he says, hearing the bite in his own voice. After his phone call with his mum yesterday, he's not particularly been in the mood to be prodded at. 

"Jesus Christ," Sirius sighs, already digging in the console next to his seat. He unearths a pair of glasses with metallic arms on them. Remus wouldn't be surprised if they were actually made of gold. "If you're going to be my boyfriend, you need to at least look the part." 

"You're an asshole," Remus says. He puts on the sunglasses. 

"I'm not even going to comment on your outfit. I'll see if Lily will let me take you shopping or something." He goes back to scrolling on his phone, looking completely unbothered. 

"What's up your arse this morning," Remus grumbles, crossing his arms and leaning back. Sirius doesn't answer, so he stares out the tinted windows and watches London roll by. 

 

They're let out a block from the predetermined cafe. Sirius drops his own stupidly expensive sunglasses over his eyes and runs a hand through his hair before he gets out. He grabs Remus's hand and laces their fingers as soon as he's next to him, like it's normal, like they've been doing it for years. It feels strange. Remus can't remember the last time he held someone's hand just walking down the street. Maybe his girlfriend when he was in school. She wasn't much one for hand holding though. 

They walk in silence until they reach the cafe. Sirius elbows him and juts his chin to two men a little ways down the road from the doors. They've got cameras in their hands, already poised to take a shot of the two of them. Remus watches as Sirius paints on a smile directed at him and leans in close. 

"Look like you fucking want to be here," he says through his teeth. Remus manages his own smile, reaching for the door. He holds it open for Sirius. 

"Go get a table for us, baby," Remus says. The pet name feels forced in his mouth, dripping with sarcasm. "What do you want?" 

"I'll have a cappuccino, love," Sirius answers. His smile looks a little more like he's baring his teeth now. 

"Of course you want a fucking cappuccino," Remus rolls his eyes, glad for the stupid sunglasses. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" The faux sweetness from Sirius's voice has dropped. 

"I worked at a coffee shop, only assholes order cappuccinos." 

He pulls away, already at the counter before Sirius can respond. He orders their drinks and leans against the wall, watching out of the corner of his eye as Sirius takes the table by the window - perfect for the photographers to get their shots through. Lily had hired them directly, but they wanted the photos to look like they actually came from paparazzi, so they've been instructed to keep a good distance. 

He sets the two mugs down with a little more force than necessary when he gets to the table. Sirius looks up from his phone, sunglasses back on his head now, and gives a little frown. 

"Sorry," Remus mutters, taking his seat. He stares at his tea, at the steam rolling off both of the cups into the air between them. He doesn't know why he's letting Sirius's sour mood get to him so much. He doesn't even really care. He and Sirius don't need to be friends for him to get his paycheck.

Sirius sighs deeply, looking to the ceiling and back to Remus, and then down to their drink. "No I'm sorry. I have some shit going on and I didn't get much sleep last night, I shouldn't be an arse to you." 

It looks as though it takes a great deal of effort for the words to come out. Remus tries not to laugh. Even if he doesn't really care, it's still a relief that they're not at each other's throats right now. Remus might have a habit of being grumpy and sarcastic, but having to be around someone who only pushes him to be worse would  be exhausting.

"It's fine. You've got an image to uphold, right?" 

"What are you fucking smiling about?" 

"Nothing," Remus holds up his hands. "Your apology was very nice, I forgive you." He's still smiling. Sirius glares at him. 

"Shut the fuck up before I take it back," he says. Remus takes a sip of his tea. "I really am going to take you shopping though," he adds. "You'll fucking hate it."

"Is that anyway to treat the love of your life?" This teasing, the fake flirting is beginning to become fun for Remus. If Sirius is going to berate him with pet names he might as well lean into it.

"I'll murder you," Sirius says, looking like he absolutely means it. "Here, Lily will love this." He points his phone at the table, at Remus's hands still wrapped around his mug and takes a photo. Remus ignores the vibration in his back pocket telling him that @SiriusBlack just posted. 

They drink in companionable silence for a while, ignoring the two men with cameras just across the street capturing every second of it all. Sirius starts to make a big show of smiling and laughing, even once leaning over to slap Remus's shoulder playfully. Remus tries his best to play along, knowing Lily won't be happy if he doesn't keep up his end of the bargain. It's a little awkward, but it's also kind of hilarious.

Sirius takes out his phone again when their drinks are nearing the bottom of their mugs and starts genuinely laughing. He turns the screen to Remus. It's all replies to his story on Instagram. 

I would let that man choke me

Your bf's hands are so hot

Stop teasing us, show us his face

Remus makes a face, which only makes Sirius laugh harder. 

"I think all of your fans have a hand kink," he says. He looks down at his own fingers, the raw edges of his hangnails, the scuffed knuckles. 

"To be fair, you do have really nice hands," Sirius hums, already back to scrolling though more replies. Remus ignores the way heat creeps up his neck. 

"Do you have a hand kink?"

Sirius doesn't look at him, just keeps scrolling. Remus drinks the last dregs of his tea and stares very pointedly away from him. 

Sirius's phone buzzes, then a second later, Remus feels his own go off in his pocket. He watches Sirius's amused smile fall as he takes his phone out, furrowing his brow. It's a message from Lily, sent to both of them. 

Lily: The paps found out you guys were on a date. 

Remus looks back out the window and sees that the two men with cameras are now joined by a handful of others. Down the road a little ways are even more. 

Lily: The car will be out front in a minute. Just keep your heads down. 

Lily: Sorry Sirius. 

The look on Sirius's face is more than dread, it's almost like panic. Remus isn't sure what to make of that. The guy must be used to hoards of people with cameras trying to get his picture. He's been in the limelight for years now. 

"Are you good?" He asks because he isn't sure what else to say. He'd been prepared for this kind of stuff to happen. He doesn't know the protocol of what someone is supposed to do when trying to calm down their fake boyfriend. 

"Yeah, fine," he says. His voice is monotone, dejected, like it was in the car. "Let's go." 

This time Remus takes his hand and Sirius sets his sunglasses back on his nose. He looks every bit of the rockstar persona he's supposed to be, stony bored expression and all. Except for the way his grip on Remus's hand tightens ever so slightly when they approach the door to the cafe. 

In an instant, there's a flash of cameras, a man shouting questions, someone bumping into his shoulder. The car is just a few feet away, no more than ten paces, but Sirius isn't moving. His head is ducked down, turned away from the people crowding them, and his hand is like a vice around Remus's. 

Remus tries to tug him along, tries to get him moving, but Sirius seems stuck in place. Before he even knows what he's doing, he's wrenching his fingers away from Sirius's to wrap an arm around his shoulders, putting his own body between him and the cameras. 

"Come on," he says quietly. Sirius is tucked right up against his side. Remus urges him forward once more and this time Sirius obeys. 

He pushes him into the car first and then climbs in after him, feeling like he can't get the door to shut fast enough. Sirius rubs his eyes under his sunglasses, slumped in his seat from before. Remus can see the way his hands are shaking. 

"Fuck, sorry," he says. He pushes a hand through his hair, clenches the other into a fist in his lap. He looks at Remus, eyes hidden behind the black lenses. "Thank you." 

Remus nods. He tries not to stare, tries not to think too hard about what just happened. How Sirius froze, how he'd melted into Remus's touch as they made their escape, physically leaning on him. He stares out the window and watches the paparazzi turn into nothing more than outlines of people on the street. 

Chapter 7: Sugar Daddy Sirius

It hasn't even been twenty-four hours. Not even a day, and already Remus is getting a picture from his mum of his own face on the cover of a tabloid, and then another, and then another. 

He's sitting across from Sirius at the little table by the window, smiling at his exaggerated fake laugh. He's walking down the street with him, hands clasped. He's blocking Sirius from the cameras. He's holding him around the shoulders as they head to the car. 

Sirius Black's new mystery boyfriend is the dream man. 

Sirius Black's boyfriend blocks him from paparazzi. 

Ten reasons why we're all obsessed with Sirius Black's new boyfriend's hands. 

 Sirius sends him screenshots of more replies to his story. It's insane to him how many people care about a photo of coffee. He warns Remus that Lily wants more photos of the two of them together. He suggests they have maternity photos taken. Remus shoots him down. 

It's nice, at least, that he isn't being snappy anymore. Remus doesn't dare ask what happened outside the cafe, why he froze. He doesn't ask what shit he has going on that made him so unbearable for the first part of their "date". Remus sends him a post that gushes about him being a "protective boyfriend" and how "lucky Sirius is to have someone who obviously cares about him so much". He adds, because he's feeling snarky, that it must be nice for the public to have a photo of him smiling for once. Sirius sends back a photo of himself smiling with a somewhat frightening amount of teeth. Remus tells him to never do it again. 

He spends his time online, he drools over expensive jackets and boots that he knows he can technically afford now that his first paycheck has cleared his bank account, but he doesn't get past the add to cart button. It's like a mental block. Now that he has money he's hard pressed to actually spend any of it. He really needs new boots though, and a decent jacket. November has started off with frigid rain and wind for a week straight. He dreads having to leave the flat for the grocery shop. He spoils himself and Marlene with delivery instead. 

He gets a phone call from an unsaved number on Wednesday. He almost doesn't answer, but he's been cooped up in the flat rotting his brain with doom scrolling and Netflix for four days straight and he's starting to go a little crazy. 

"Hello, darling."

"Sirius?" Remus frowns at his phone. 

"I believe you mean the love of your life, but I'll let it slide this time."

Remus hates the way he wants to laugh. When did he go from being mildly annoyed by Sirius's antics to finding them amusing? It's a bit concerning. 

"What do you want?" 

"Someone's a bit cranky today," Sirius hums back. "I was going to tell you that I'm waiting outside to take you on an adventure, but now I'm not so sure."

"Do I really want to go on an adventure that you orchestrated?" 

Remus, as casually as he can convince himself that he is, walks over to the windows overlooking the street. There is indeed a sleek black car waiting on the road. It's not the one that came to pick him up for the coffee earlier in the week. 

"I can assure you that you do," Sirius answers. He sounds nonplussed, like he really isn't concerned that Remus might tell him to fuck off, that he's busy. That irks Remus more than he'd like to admit. 

"Are you paying?" 

"Only if you're good." 

Five minutes later, Remus is shrugging on his sad excuse for a jacket over a hoodie and a long sleeve shirt in an attempt to combat the cold, and making his way down the stairwell to the street. He's opted for trainers today because his boots have become so unusable and his feet would be soaked either way. 

The passenger door swings open for him when he approaches the car. Sirius leans over the console, looking up at him with that infuriatingly perfect smile. He almost misses the horrifying one he received a few days ago. 

"Jesus, are you sure you have enough clothes on?" Is how Sirius greets him. 

"I didn't want you to pop a stiffy by looking at my irresistible body," Remus shoots back. He doesn't know a thing about cars, but the inside of this one feels like a fucking spaceship. The seats are low and the dashboard is all buttons and a huge screen with a GPS to one side and the display for the song playing on the other. "Are you really listening to Tame Impala? You're such a fucking wanker."

"I am a world renowned musician, Remus. My music taste is not up for debate." 

Sirius pulls away from the curb and starts down the street, driving a little too fast for comfort. Remus tries not to let it bother him. 

"Where are we going?" He asks, knowing that he probably won't get an answer. 

"You're going to hate it," Sirius grins at him again. It really is unfortunate that someone so irritating has such a wonderful smile. 

 

It's a shop set on a street full of boutiques and stores that Remus would never dream of setting foot inside. Sirius is right, he hates it. Still, he lets him take his hand and lead him through the glass door and into a shop full of clothes that cost more than his rent. 

"This is horrible. Why are we here?" 

"You've got, like, six layers on, dear. You can't tell me you don't want a fancy winter coat from your sugar daddy." 

"Please never call yourself that again."

Sirius takes him to a display of coats made from real leather, real fur, real fucking gold bars for all Remus knows. He nearly faints when he catches sight of a price tag. 

"How can someone ever feel comfortable wearing a coat that costs a thousand pounds?" He asks, baffled. Sirius is looking through a rack of puffer jackets with fur around the hoods. "Wouldn't they be scared shitless of getting a stain on it or something the whole time?"

"One," Sirius begins, pulling a coat from the rack, "they cost that much because they're the most comfortable coat you'll ever wear." He examines the coat before replacing it on the rack and turns his full attention to Remus. "And, two, dry cleaning exists." 

Remus rolls his eyes and turns to examine the rest of the store. He catches sight of a display of boots, all shiny and polished, made thick and durable. 

"I think we'll get you a winter coat, and then something that'll make you look hot when you stand next to me," Sirius continues. "Oh, and you need some new jeans. Those ones are falling apart." Remus looks to his legs, the hole in the knee. His pair without any holes had suffered a coffee-related incident and were not a viable option for today. "I'm going to get you a shirt with my face on it too. Since you're such a supportive boyfriend and all." 

Remus looks at him, finds he doesn't look like he's joking in the slightest, and groans. "I'd break up with you if I could," he says. 

"Who would be your sugar daddy then?" Sirius frowns. 

"For the love of god, please stop calling yourself that." 

"Shut up and go look at those shoes you've been eye-fucking."

Remus wants to protest, heat flooding his cheeks, but he really does want to go ogle over those boots, even if he doesn't get a pair. It feels wildly irresponsible to spend his first paycheck on something so frivolous when he could be saving for a flat or a car or something. 

He resigns himself to the display and tentatively picks up a boot, falling a little in love with how the leather feels under his fingers. The price is insane, of course, but he lets himself imagine for a moment how nice it would be to have a pair of boots that would last him more than a year without needing to glue the sole back on. 

He hears a murmur of conversation on the other side of the shop and watches out the corner of his eye as a girl approaches Sirius. 

"I'm sorry to bother you," she says, "but could I get a picture? I absolutely love your music." 

"'Course you can, love," Sirius grins at her, all rockstar, all charm. The girl visibly swoons.

Remus tries very hard not to think it's cute. They pose for a selfie behind her phone and talk a little longer. He sends her off with a hug and she's blushing so hard Remus almost laughs. It's kind of adorable, though. Sirius is smiling genuinely as she leaves, looking nothing like he had when they'd be accosted by the paps. This, Remus realizes, this is the part that Sirius likes. 

He turns back to his boots, ignoring the way he can sense Sirius coming up behind him before he even speaks. He smells like expensive cologne and expensive shampoo. Remus thinks it was well worth the money. 

"Try this on," he demands. He's holding a jean jacket, his other arm piled high with a winter coat and a dozen other things. 

Remus sighs, but obeys. He takes off his old coat and puts on Sirius's pick. He's urged toward a mirror on the wall and he sees Sirius grinning over his shoulder. 

"You look so fucking hot," he says. Remus is not blushing - he's really not. 

"You do realize that this jacket could pay for six months worth of groceries, don't you?" 

"Shhh," Sirius says. He rests his fucking chin on Remus's shoulder now. "I'm having fun."

"Do you get off on buying things for people? Are you genuinely a sugar daddy?" 

"That is none of your business," Sirius says. "Let me buy the jacket and show off how hot my boyfriend is." 

"Fine," Remus concedes, only because he does quite like the jacket and he has a feeling that Sirius won't give it up. "But you can't buy me anything else. I'm not that broke anymore, you know." 

"What about the boots? I know your other ones are falling apart. I saw the fucking hole in them Remus, don't lie to me." Sirius looks almost stern now, like a concerned parent. 

"They're like eight hundred pounds," Remus points out. 

"You are so stubborn," Sirius rolls his eyes. "Go pick out a pair of boots, dumbass, and I'll leave it alone." 

"Promise?" 

"Cross my heart."

Remus takes off the jacket and hands it back over. Sirius goes to replace the clothes he picked up looking only a little put out. Remus examines the boots again. He'd really like the ones with the buckle on the side just because he thinks they look fucking cool, but he knows from experience that the sole of them won't provide much comfort when he's walking up and down the city. He picks a pair with thick laces that he won't have to replace in six months and a good inch of memory foam inside. 

Sirius looks pleased beyond himself when Remus presents them. They pay and he pointedly ignores the total. 

"Just out of curiosity," Sirius begins as they exit the shop, "what would you do if you had a stupid amount of money?" 

Remus sighs. He's fantasized about a thousand times what he'd do if he suddenly never had to worry about money again. He tries to think of an answer that won't completely embarrass him. 

"I'd probably buy a house," he decides. "One where I could have a bedroom and the biggest, most comfortable mattress that stupid amounts of money could buy." 

"Wait, you don't have a bedroom?" Sirius has stopped dead in his tracks. Remus grimaces. Why the hell had he said that?

"No, I sleep on the couch," he shrugs. He tries to sound nonchalant, like it doesn't bother him. It's really not that big of a deal, he's couch surfed plenty in his life. A consistent couch feels like a step up. 

"Jesus, Remus. What the hell?" 

"I'm broke broke, Sirius, keep up," he forces a little laugh. He really shouldn't have said anything. 

"Don't tell me this shit if you don't want me to spend money on you."

"Noted."

Chapter 8: Jean Jackets Are Chick Magnets

There's a heavy thud outside the door before the lock clicks and Marlene pokes her head through. 

"Remus John Lupin," she says. "Who in the hell is sending you giant boxes? What did you order?" 

She pushes the door open with her foot and heaves something up into her arms. Remus comes to meet her halfway as she drops a box the size of his torso onto the ground. It's addressed to him, but there's nothing else. 

"If this is some kind of sex doll or some shit..." Marlene shakes her head, looking somewhere between amused and confused. 

"I have no idea," Remus says profoundly. 

Marlene already has her keys jabbed into the box, ripping down the haphazard packing tape and pushing the flaps aside. 

"What the fuck?"  

Remus looks over her shoulder and right there on top is that goddamned jacket with the fur lining. 

"That bastard," he says, but he's kind of laughing as he kneels down beside his flatmate and pulls the jacket out. 

Beneath it is pile of more clothes, all folded neatly and tucked together like a game of tetris. There's about twenty pairs of jeans and t-shirts and sweaters. He finds one that reads I love Sirius Black and absolutely loses it. Marlene looks at him like he's just sprouted a second head. 

"Did this come from your fake boyfriend?" 

"Yes," Remus says, still breathless from laughing. 

"And he didn't get me a single thing," she huffs. "Break up with him immediately."

"I'll see what I can do, Marls." 

At the very bottom of the box are those boots with the buckles - the ones he'd deemed too impractical to buy, even if Sirius was paying. There's a note sticking out of one of them. 

If you keep looking at boots like you want to fuck them, we might have to see a relationship counselor. 

Tears brim at his eyes from laughing too hard. He takes out his phone. 

Remus: You're a fucking bastard you know that?

Sirius: you got my gift!!!!

Remus: My roommate is very upset she didn't get anything. 

Remus: She's threatened to break us up. 

Sirius: very shakespearian of her

Sirius: I'll get her one of  those t-shirts so you guys can match  

Remus: You spoil us. 

Sirius: told you I'm a sugar daddy

 

Marlene insists they go out to show off Remus's new wardrobe. He's itching for a reason to get out of the flat anyway, so he puts up with her preening while she dresses him in a dozen outfits before she settles on one. She's more than pleased with Sirius's ability to get Remus in new clothes. 

They meet one of Marlene's friends from work that Remus has met a few times before. Alice brings her boyfriend, Frank, and Remus is momentarily thankful to have someone to talk to when Alice and Marlene get going on debating the new hire. He's sorely disappointed to find that Frank likes sports and that he really likes to talk about sports. 

Remus mentions meeting James Potter and that gets him going for a few minutes, so at least he doesn't have to pretend to know the rules of rugby for a while. 

They throw back shots and Remus sips at a glass of expensive whisky - one of the few things he feels alright spending his ridiculous paycheck on. His father had turned him onto the finer kinds of liquor and he's been a whore for good whisky ever since. 

Marlene drags him to dance, and Remus is just drunk enough not to protest. He lets Marlene throw her arms around his shoulders and guide him along to the music. He doesn't even care that his limbs are too long or that he probably looks like a marionette puppet. 

"So how's the whole Sirius Black thing going?" She asks when they're both satisfactorily sweaty and out of breath from dancing. "Do fake boyfriends usually send you like five thousand pounds worth of clothes a gift?" 

Remus can feel himself blushing. He decides to ignore it. "It's not like that," he explains. "We're just getting to be friends," he shrugs. It's true, he guesses. Sirius and him get along. They text each other into the early hours of the morning and laugh about the headlines surrounding their "relationship". 

"Right," Marlene nods, looking unconvinced. "So you're just totally cool with getting cozy with a super hot guy and not making a move?" 

"I'm very professional, Marls." 

She's right, of course. Sirius is a fucking sight to behold. The drunker Remus gets the more he finds himself picturing his smile, the feeling of their hands linked together, how he throws his head back and laughs when Remus says something he finds particularly funny. It doesn't mean he wants to make a move, though. It doesn't mean anything. 

 

The morning comes with a violent hangover. He hadn't even drank that much, but his head pounds and his stomach twists uncomfortably. When Marlene emerges from her room and offers to go pick up coffee, Remus nods enthusiastically, despite his head throbbing in protest. 

He digs his phone out of his jeans that he left in a heap on the floor next to the couch last night. He's immediately hit with a wave of notifications. Anxiety twists his stomach more than the nausea now.    

Someone took a photo of him and Marlene last night. They're grinning, arms wrapped around each other as they dance. It's blown up Twitter, dominated headlines, posted and reposted all over Instagram. 

Cheater!

Is Sirius Black's love life doomed for failure? 

I'm legit convinced this is the guy Sirius has been out with. What a fucking douchebag. 

If Sirius Black can't keep a man what hope do the rest of us have? 

Breakup album releasing in six months.

Remus groans, buries his face in his hands. His phone pings once, twice, a dozen times. 

Sirius: so this is how I find out you're cheating on me?

Sirius: I'm heartbroken Remus

Sirius: I'm going to have to write a song about you now.

Lily: Remus I love you but what the hell? 

Lily: Ok. We're gonna fix this. 

Lily: Setting up a Twitter for you rn.

Lily: Get your ass into my office.

Remus: Be there in twenty. 

Not even a month in and he's royally fucked up. That's about right given his track record. But he really doesn't want to lose this job. It's the only job he thinks he's ever wanted to keep. He texts Sirius. 

Remus: Lily is making me a Twitter. Isn't that punishment enough?

Sirius sends back a screenshot of an article claiming he's a "lying cheating bastard". That seems fair. 

When Marlene returns with the coffee Remus is already half dressed and trying to fix his hair. He waves his phone at her. 

"Sorry, Marls, gay best friend is off the table, you're the other woman now." 

She trades a to-go cup for his phone and starts scrolling. 

"Oh my god, my big break. Do you think we could get, like, sex-tape fame from this?" 

"Not helping," Remus groans. He takes a long drink of his coffee, burning his tongue a little. It's a terrible combination with the toothpaste still lingering in his mouth. "Lily's pissed."

"Aw, tell her I say hi. I haven't seen her in a while." 

"If she doesn't decapitate me." 

"What's a public relationship without a little drama? People eat this shit up." She shoves the phone back at him as if to prove her point. 

"I wasn't hired to make drama," Remus sighs. "I'm supposed to be making Sirius look good."

"Well he isn't the one who cheated," she grins. "And with a lesbian, no less. You're turning girls straight left and right, Lupin. You should be proud."

"You are literally the worst friend I've ever had."

"I'm the only friend you've ever had."

"I hate you." 

"Love you too."

Chapter 9: The Kiss That Killed Remus's Last Braincell

Lily is a whirlwind when Remus enters her office. Her usually perfect hair is up and stray pieces keep escaping to fall on her forehead. He sits silently in the chair facing her desk, hands in his lap, tail between his legs, feeling like a child about to be told off by their mother. He knows he fucked up, but he hadn't really expected this. He didn't think people would care about him as a singular unit not attached to Sirius's hip. 

Lily slides a paper toward him - the login information for his new Twitter account. He pulls it up on his phone and is surprised to see the profile picture is an actually flattering picture of himself from their first photoshoot in the studio. He hadn't even realized that his face had ended up in any of those. Lily has taken it upon herself to retweet a few things starting a few days ago when they'd first thought about making him social media accounts. Of course, she was expecting a month or so to curate at least some kind of a backlog of posts, but there's not really a choice now. 

"Sirius already tweeted about it, so I just need a reply to hold over the masses while we decide if we need to put out an official statement," she tells him. She looks wrung out, exhausted, and very much like she'd rather not be here right now. 

"I'm really sorry, Lily," Remus begins. "I didn't think that anyone would even recognize me."

Lily sighs and holds up a hand. "It's fine, Remus." She gives a weak smile. "It's not your fault, you know? Just part of the job description."

Remus nods, still feeling entirely guilty. He looks down at Sirius's tweet and starts to type out a reply. It has the same picture that he'd sent to Remus that morning.

@SiriusBlack: I'm utterly heartbroken. I can't believe Remus pulled a girl before I did. 

reply to @SiriusBlack from @RemusJL: Am I getting a breakup song now?

Lily huffs a laugh when she sees it and tells Remus to go ahead and post it. 

"Thank you for coming in, Rem," she says, scrubbing a hand over her face. "It's just been crazy with all the tour stuff and bringing you on, and now...this." She gestures vaguely at the room. "I do need you guys to take a shitton of picutures together so I can post something that shows people that you aren't actually cheating on each other. Also, I need a stockpile for when Sirius leaves for tour." 

"Anything you need," Remus nods. "I'm sorry I caused all this." He rubs at the back of his neck. 

"Well," she laughs, looking him up and down. "If Sirius was actually going to be in a relationship with someone, it would probably be someone like you." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

"Nothing," she shrugs. "Just that you two are getting on a lot better than I could've hoped for." She gives him a wry smile and Remus ignores the strange feeling in his stomach. 

She sends him on his way to the studio. Remus chews at his thumbnail, thinking about Sirius. About the way he laughs, the way he had gotten so excited when Remus had let him buy him things, the strings of texts that oftentimes went on into the early hours of the morning. He straightens out his jacket as the doors to the elevator slide open and shoves his hands into his pockets to hide the slight tremor that has begun in them. 

He knocks once on the door, hears Sirius shout to come in, and eases the door open. He's surprised to see, not James, but a woman sitting at the dash of buttons facing the recording booth. She doesn't look up at him, only adjusts the headphones on her ears and twists a dial up. 

"Hey, give us like five minutes," Sirius tells him, attention still half on whatever is playing through his own headphones. He barely looks at Remus, just gives him a polite half smile and turns back to the buttons. 

Remus sits on the sofa, crossing his legs, and then uncrossing them. This is far different than the last time he was in this room with Sirius pretending to work with James there to egg him on. He's prodding at buttons, talking softly to the other woman, his eyes narrowed in a focused sort of way. It's quite striking, really. 

His brow goes furrowed, and his mouth screws up as he listens intently to his headphones. It's kind of hot. And cute. He looks really fucking cute when he bites his tongue like that, or when he pins the woman with a wide-eyed look, pleased with what they're working on. Remus pulls out his phone so that he doesn't have to watch him anymore. He's already got another ten thousand followers on his Twitter and a long list of notifications of replies to his single tweet. He turns off the notifications and scrolls through his personal Instagram instead - much less intimidating. 

Sirius finally breaks the silence by spinning in his chair and shoving his headphones off his ears with a grin. 

"You look so fucking hot in that jacket."

Remus blushes because of course he fucking does. 

"I pulled a lesbian, so it must be doing something," he shrugs. At least he can always count on sarcasm to get him out of uncomfortable situations. 

"Oh shit, watch out, Cas," Sirius laughs, nudging the woman. She looks up at Remus with a small smile on her face. "This is Dorcas, by the way. She's my producer."

"I'm the reason people think Sirius has talent," she says. 

"Oi," Sirius elbows her. 

"Well, uh, nice to meet you?" Remus tries, looking between them. 

"Yeah, you too," she laughs. 

"Right, we're going on a coffee run," Sirius says, standing and shrugging on his leather jacket from the edge of the couch. "You want one?" 

"Yeah, just get my regular," Dorcas tells him, already turning back to her headphones and buttons. 

"Come on then, love," he says to Remus, offering a hand. Remus takes it and they start back towards the elevators. 

"Don't you have, like, interns or something to go get coffee for you?" He asks. Their hands are still linked. Remus shouldn't feel so off kilter at the sensation of it. 

"Yeah, but I've been in the studio all morning and I think Dorcas is trying to get me to go crazy so I have something to write about." The elevator opens for them and Sirius punches the ground floor button. "Plus, if someone gets a picture of us out and about this soon after our scandal," he waggles his eyebrows at the word, "Lily would probably bake us a cake or something."

Oh. Right. Of course. The hand holding. All for the benefit of Dorcas and anyone else who might see them. Why does that make Remus's heart clench like that? 

They walk through the main lobby and out onto the street. 

"See, what did I say?" Sirius says, nodding at a man leaning against the wall a few feet away. He's fiddling with a camera strung around his neck. "Should we give them a kiss? Lily would probably bake us two cakes for that." 

"What?" Remus looks at him, at the grin on his face. He looks at those lips, so pink and full that Remus wonders for a moment if he's wearing makeup to get them to look like that. "Right, yeah," he stammers out. 

This is part of the job description after all. Madly in love with Sirius Black. Not cheating on Sirius Black. Kissing Sirius Black. 

The way his heart races wasn't disclosed. 

Sirius leans in, hand on the back of Remus's neck. Remus lifts his own hand to his hip for something to hold on to. He's suddenly very light headed. 

It's quick and light, no tongue, no wandering hands, but Remus is sure he's never had anyone kiss him like that. Sirius's lips fit perfectly against his, his fingers curling around his neck, the scent of his expensive shampoo filling every last bit of Remus's senses. Sirius is a damn good kisser. The few seconds leave him with brain fog and unfocused eyes. 

There's the click of a camera shutter and Sirius grins, triumphant. 

They continue on past the photographer, down a few blocks to a coffee shop. Sirius holds his hand the whole way, skims a thumb over the back of it in a way that makes it hard for Remus to think. 

"So, Lily said that girl was your flatmate?" Sirius asks as they wait for their drinks. "She said she went to school with her." 

"Oh, uh, yeah," Remus nods, trying to force himself to focus on something other than the way Sirius looks leaning casually against the counter. It's annoying how good he looks when it's clear he put in next to no effort when he got out of bed this morning. "We all went to uni together - well I did for like three months before I dropped out. I guess Lily and Marlene crossed paths a lot more than I did. She was actually the one who got me Lily's number for...this." 

He's rambling, saying too much, saying nothing at all, really. He feels like someone has dunked his brain in warm water, turning it to mush. He can't stop thinking about how Sirius's mouth had felt against his. 

Sirius is just standing there, smiling at him. He's gorgeous. It's infuriating. Remus wants to kiss him again. Surely there must be people with cameras around, or some fan who recognizes Sirius and is just itching for a scandalous photo to post online. 

"She's the one who wants a t-shirt with my face on it, right?" He asks. 

"I'm pretty sure you're the only one interested in t-shirts with your face on it." 

There's the sarcasm again. Remus doesn't know how to make anything else come out of his mouth. At least it's better than fucking kiss me again so I can stop thinking about it. 

"You really do think I'm a narcissist," he laughs. Why do Remus's knees go weak at that laugh? "I'd like to meet her one day. She sounds like a good time."

That sends Remus a little off-kilter. Sirius and Marlene are two separate entities, never to cross paths. Marlene knows the awkward, scrawny teenager Remus who smoked too much weed and never did what he was told. And Sirius... Well, Sirius knows whatever the hell Remus is trying to be right now - cool, sarcastic, unbothered, definitely not questioning his feelings for Sirius at this very moment. 

"She'd probably love that," he decides on, against his better judgement. "She's an actual fan of your music, you know."

Sirius grins and pulls out his phone, pointing the camera at Remus. He doesn't have time to school his features, to do anything at all. Sirius is laughing, taking photos like he's a professional photographer, turning it this way and that to get different angles. He flips the camera and leans against Remus to take some together. He stands on his toes and takes one of him kissing Remus's cheek. 

They look like a real couple, the flush in Remus's cheeks, the smile pulling at Sirius's lips, the way they're standing so close, so comfortable with each other. It makes Remus's heart stutter a little - a feeling he pointedly decides not to think about just now.

"Lily will like that one," he manages. Sirius nods, humming while he swipes through the dozen or so photos he's taken. 

Remus catches sight of the first few, the ones just of him, looking flustered and caught off guard. There's an unfamiliar look on his face. It's like he's really looking at someone he's deeply in love with. It makes him feel exposed, naked, like Sirius will be able to tell right away the conflicting things he's feeling.

He takes the drinks all lined up in a carrier when they're handed over, glad for a reason not to hold Sirius's hand on the walk back. He isn't sure if he would be able to handle it. 

Chapter 10: I'm Drunk, You're Hot

The Twitter turned out to be a huge hit. Sirius's engagement is up and Remus is raking in followers while doing hardly anything. Lily posts a few things to his account here and there, retweeting various posts from accounts that were so widely followed that you couldn't really gain anything from scouring his following list. She was still adamant that his social media presence be left very moldable, able to adapt to what was needed in any situation. 

However, Remus couldn't help replying to Sirius's posts with the same sarcasm that they used in their texts to each other. 

@SiriusBlack:  There's a bug in my coffee. My whole day is ruined.

@RemusJL replying to @SiriusBlack: You're such a drama queen. 

@SiriusBlack: New tour dates added! I can't wait to come visit you Japan!

@RemusJL replying to @SiriusBlack: Is now my chance to finally get tickets?

 @SiriusBlack replying to @RemusJL: I've banned you from all my shows. You can't keep throwing your bra on stage. 

@RemusJL replying to @SiriusBlack: I can't believe Sirius responded to me! I love your music!

At first, Lily had wanted to approve all his tweets and replies, but the fans were eating it up and there were already fluff articles written left and right covering their Twitter banter and praising their adorable relationship. Remus roped James into it all, getting him to back him up on the idea that Sirius is, in fact, a drama queen. Somehow Marlene ended up in a thread, asking Sirius if he would ever send that shirt with his face on it. In the end, it became clear that she was just Remus's very pretty friend who happened to be a lesbian, and people were loving the "bromance" between Remus and James, which now rivaled James and Sirius's long term friendship. 

Sirius sold out of all of his new tour dates in a matter of hours and Lily could not be more pleased. Remus posted a photo of himself and Marlene in the t-shirts with Sirius's face on them that showed up at their door a week after her tweet to him. He was trending on Twitter for three whole days after that. 

 

It's a Friday when Remus gets a DM from James, informing him that it's Sirius's birthday and they're all going out to some exclusive club and Remus most certainly has to be there. It feels like a shock. How had Remus not known it was Sirius's birthday? He was sure he'd come across it during his embarrassing research at some point. 

James follows up before Remus can even respond, clarifying that it is not part of his contract - as Lily had instructed him to clarify - and that he's not actually obligated to come. Although, he is warned that Sirius might just show up and kidnap him anyway if he doesn't, but that's not a work thing, it's just a Sirius thing. Sirius has also demanded for Marlene to be invited, which doesn't surprise Remus at all. They'd been DMing and sending tweets back and forth for a week or so now. 

Marlene, of course, is ecstatic. She comes barreling into the flat after work, throwing her bag down and waving her phone at Remus sitting at the kitchen table, trying to enjoy a cup of tea. 

"I knew I'd get to be your gay best friend one day!" She shouts, and Remus rolls his eyes, suppressing a smile. Really, it's quite nice to see Marlene so excited about this, even if it feels like a very questionable meeting of worlds to Remus. 

He's been thinking a lot about that kiss. About those photos they took together in the cafe. He had a few unsettling dreams revolving around Sirius in a dozen different places, always beckoning Remus to come closer. He's woken up every time with a guilty conscience and a semi like a bloody teenager. 

The thing is that Remus isn't entirely sure about whatever the hell he's feeling. Sure, Sirius is hot - like really fucking hot - but that doesn't mean he's into him or anything. The kiss was surprising, he supposes, like it came out of nowhere even if Sirius did ask him before it happened. Some part of him had been gearing up for this after all, just as he'd prepared himself for the hand holding and cozy positions Lily always wants them in for pictures. 

So, Sirius is hot. Remus liked kissing him because he's hot. That's all this is. 

Marlene convinces him to sit in the bathroom so she can fix his hair for once. She carries their conversation easily, recounting her day at work and the message Sirius sent her on Twitter. It was about as aggressive as Remus had suspected, but Marlene's never been one to be intimidated. 

He stays as quiet as she'll let him. He's sure that if given enough time she'll sniff out the fact that something is off and then she'll pry until he's forced to dissect his thoughts surround Sirius. He does not have the energy or the willpower for any of that right now. Everything with Sirius feels fragile - has always felt fragile. From their first meeting where he'd been overbearing and energetic to their first date where he'd been cold and standoffish. He'd spoiled Remus with gifts, the clothes and boots and stupid t-shirts. And then there was that last time they'd been together. There had been that kiss. 

It always comes back to the kiss. 

Thankfully, Marlene is too invested in her excitement for the night to notice Remus's nerves. He shouldn't be nervous, not really. Marlene and Sirius are so similar with their lack of a filter and seemingly endless amounts of energy, both physically and mentally, to keep up a conversation of sarcasm and jokes. He suspects that he won't have to do very much talking at all when the two of them are together. 

That's also a little worrying, though. Marlene might say something - Remus isn't even sure what she would say - that would tip Sirius off to this strange place he's stuck in. Or, Sirius might mention something about the way he's always blushing like an idiot or stammering over his words and then Marlene would know for sure what's going on. Remus doesn't even know what's going on. 

He starts to feel a little sick about the whole thing. 

But, Lily has sent a car and Marlene is telling Remus to put on some goddamn cologne, this is a fancy club! and Remus has no choice but to straighten out his jacket and follow her down the steps. It's the jean jacket, of course. He wonders for one stupid moment if Sirius will appreciate it. He had said Remus looked good - no, hot - in it. 

There's a line stretching halfway down the street when they arrive. Remus can hear the music from inside the club, mixed with the chatter of the people in line. Usually when he goes out to a place like this he's ready to blow off steam, a ball of energy, unafraid of what might come of the night. Right now, he's trying very hard to breathe evenly and not tip off Marlene to his anxiety. 

They duck down an alleyway to the backdoor Lily told them to come through. Marlene bangs a fist on the door without hesitation. Always confident, always picking up the slack when Remus can't be brave for the both of them. He's glad for her then, even if he's terrified of the idea of her and Sirius in the same room. He almost wants to hug her, say thank you, but he wouldn't have a good explanation as to why, so he refrains. 

A man twice Remus's size and a good few inches taller opens the door, his whole body blocking the frame of it. 

"Names?" He asks in a gruff voice. 

"Marlene Mckinnon and Remus Lupin," Marlene answers, unfazed by this giant man and his rough exterior. "We're here with Sirius Black." 

The man grunts and steps aside. "Straight through there," he says, pointing to the end of a hallway. Remus can hear the bass a little louder now. He takes a deep breath. 

"Come on then," Marlene urges him along, taking the lead. He follows with shaky legs. 

There must be some kind of soundproofing sealing the hall from the rest of the club because as soon as they pass through the second door the bass is vibrating in Remus's chest. It's loud - very loud. He's not usually bothered by loud noises - especially not in a place like this where it's supposed to be loud. He needs to calm the hell down. 

It's really not that different from the places that Marlene has taken him before, just with nicer fixtures. Multicolored lights flash over the crowded dance floor. Everything is shinny, the clothes, the floor, the air in the room. 

The dance floor is set a few feet below the rest of the club. There's several sets of steps leading up to a second tier filled with more shiny people sitting at tables and sipping on shiny drinks. The whole thing makes Remus's eyes go a little unfocused. 

"There!" Marlene nudges his arm, pointing over to the edge of the floor. 

He's impossible to miss. All that fucking hair. He's got on a skin tight t-shirt that's cut off so that when he lifts his arms Remus is confronted with half his stomach. His pale skin reflects the rainbow of lights and makes it impossible to look away. His jeans are slung low, almost showing off his hip bones and clinging to his legs so that every curve of them is on display. Remus's mouth goes dry.

There's a tug on his arm and Remus feels frozen in place. Marlene pulls harder, not sparing him a glance, and somehow, his feet unstick themselves from the floor. 

Sirius is dancing with Lily. She looks more like the version of her Remus recognizes from uni in a mini skirt and a low cut shirt. Her hair is loose for once, a cascade of copper down her back, and her eyes are ringed dark with makeup. 

"There you are!" Lily shouts when she spots them, sweeping Marlene into a hug right away. 

"Your hair," is the first thing out of Sirius's mouth. His hand comes up and Remus feels his feather-light touch against his head. He can't read his expression, the smirk on his face might be complimentary or teasing, and the widening of his eyes might be in awe or in disgust. 

"Uh, yeah," Remus says. He can feel heat rising in his cheeks, feels his heart beat a little faster. "Marlene did it."

"Well, thank god for her," Sirius laughs. Remus is blushing deeply now, thankful for the red lights mixed in with the others. Sirius turns his attention to Marlene. "You're a miracle worker, love."

"Yeah, when he actually lets me touch that mess on his head," she says, giving Remus a pointed look. 

"Let's go get you a drink for your efforts then, shall we?" 

They link arms and turn up the nearest set of steps. Remus watches them go, the way the jeans hug his ass, the strip of skin showing beneath the hem of his shirt. His mouth was so dry before, why does he feel like drooling?

"You look like you need a drink too, Rem," Lily is saying. She nudges him after them. 

Remus tries to steady himself as he's led to a rounded booth in a secluded area of the club. The table is covered in bottles and empty cocktail glasses. He sees James with an easy smile on his face, probably already a little drunk, Dorcas, and another girl he doesn't know chatting away. James gives him a wave when he sees him. 

"Are you feeling alright?" Lily asks him as she hands him a shot. 

Remus doesn't even pause to see what it is, just pours it down his throat and cringes at the burn. "Yeah, 'course I am," he gives her what he hopes is a very reassuring smile. She does not look convinced. 

She gives him a pat on the arm and steps aside to go sit with James. Remus pours himself another shot and downs it. He thinks that getting pleasantly drunk might make his anxiety ebb enough to have a good time tonight. 

Sirius waves him over and he has no choice but to squeeze into the booth next to him. His body is overly hot next to Remus, and he smells of that expensive shampoo and tequila. It makes Remus a little dizzy and he isn't quite sure why. 

"Oh my god, try this!" Marlene shouts, making a face. She pushes a glass of something pink towards Sirius. That girl he doesn't know is laughing on her other side. 

"Not if Mary made it," Sirius laughs back, pushing the glass away from him. 

"It's good," Mary assures. "It's called a pink lemonade express!" 

"Try it, Rem! Don't make me suffer alone," Marlene urges. 

Sirius shoves the glass toward him like it's full of poison and not a questionable cocktail. He gives Mary a questioning look but she's smiling at him in anticipation. He takes a sip and coughs. 

"What the fuck is that?!" It tastes like straight vodka with a drop of lemon juice. 

"Here, wash it down," Sirius laughs. He hands him another cocktail glass and Remus eyes him suspiciously. "Don't worry, Mary didn't make this one."

"Hey!" 

Remus takes a tentative sip but it tastes like a normal drink. He swallows a gulp of it and rids his mouth of the awful lemon-vodka. 

"It's nice to meet you, Mary," Remus says, "but, that was the worst thing I've ever had in my mouth." 

That earns a barking laugh from Sirius that makes a strange flutter arise in his stomach. He looks over and sees his profile, straight nose, long eyelashes, those full and impossible red lips. He's kissed those lips. How is he ever supposed to think about anything else?

"I hate him, Sirius," Mary laughs. "Break up immediately." 

That gives him a bit of pause. This isn't a "work thing" as Lily had put it, but that doesn't mean they can blow their cover, he guesses. He looks over at Lily who doesn't seem to have caught Mary's words, at Dorcas, who he's not sure about the status of, and the cool, easy way her eyes sweep over the table as she sips at her drink. 

Suddenly, there's warm breath on his ear. 

"Mary and Cas don't know, but don't worry about it," is all Sirius says. Remus can feel goosebumps from the top of his head down to his calves. He takes another shot. 

As the booze sets in, Remus can relax a little. He was completely right about Marlene and Sirius hitting it off. They egg each other on, feed off each other's energy, and their loud laughter rises above the other sounds of the table. He likes Mary - another one of Lily's classmates from uni her learns - who regales Remus with the tale of Sirius's first show in the dingy basement of a pub with a shoddy microphone. She's blunt and witty, and Remus can see why Sirius likes her. 

At some point, Marlene ends up next to Dorcas and Remus's head is spinning trying to figure out if they're getting along or not. One second, Marlene is laughing and Dorcas is smiling wryly at her, another they're talking in low, intense expressions on their faces. Remus is clumsily drunk when Sirius suggests they go dance and he watches Marlene and Dorcas pair off, disappearing somewhere further into the dance floor. 

Lily and Mary spin each other around, shouting and laughing, and pulling James into their little circle to join them. Remus would usually feel a little more self conscious on a dance floor, but a song with heavy bass is playing and Sirius is shouting this is my shit in his ear, and Remus lets him take the lead. 

He forgets the rest of the club exists when Sirius wraps his arms around his neck, grinding against him. He lets his body be directed, carried by the music as he puts his hands to the small of his back. The skin there is warm and sticky with sweat, his shirt riding up as he dances. Remus left his jacket back at the booth, so Sirius's hands find his bare neck, curling up into his expertly styled hair, and back down under the back of his shirt. He blames the way his whole body shivers on the alcohol. 

There's an unmistakable flash of a camera that jars Remus for a moment. He looks over but is only blinded with another flash and Sirius is pressing against him, hot and persistent. He's sure he would be hard right now if he wasn't so fucking plastered. He feels a hand come around to his jaw, tilt his head down, and pull him in for a kiss. 

It's messy, all drunken instinct, tasting of booze, and Remus is on fire with it. The camera goes off again, but Sirius doesn't relent, so Remus doesn't either. He digs his fingers into his back and pulls him closer, grinding now in a way that's less dancing and more soft-core porn. Remus can't bring himself to care. Sirius is kissing him, and his thigh fits so perfectly between those legs, and he smells like teakwood and sweat, and Remus is drunk. 

When they part, Sirius throws his head back with a laugh, but he doesn't move away. Remus grins at him, telling himself over and over that it's the alcohol making him feel this way, making Sirius act this way. 

Lily appears and leans in. "Damn, even I believe you guys are horny for each other," she laughs and then she's gone. Remus flushes even hotter under the heat of the club. 

He looks to Sirius, to see how he takes it, but he's still smiling easily. He winds his hands up further in Remus's hair and he grinds again over his thigh. 

"Birthday snog, eh?" He laughs and Remus nods dumbly. 

Chapter 11: I Promise It's Just The Alcohol Talking

The night turns to a blur of dancing and neon lights, and Sirius's hands finding their way to Remus's body over and over again. He vaguely registers that Lily snaps a few pictures - probably much to Twitter's delight when they're posted tomorrow. He isn't sure where Marlene went, but, when he asks Lily tells him she's fine with a wink that makes him shut up about it. 

He isn't even sure what time it is when they stumble outside, into the cool air of the street. It's like a shock to the system, and Remus is suddenly very aware of his poor balance. He's shoved into the backseat of a car before he gets the chance to fall over. Sirius appears next, falling halfway into Remus's lap with a laugh and a bright grin that Remus wants to kiss. James squeezes in next to them and Sirius settles himself fully on top of Remus then. 

Lily is in the front seat, and Remus realizes that the car is moving. There's another man, driving them through the streets of London behind the wheel, looking back at the three drunken idiots in his rearview with disdain. Remus doesn't know where they're going, doesn't even really recognize the street they're on, but there's no place he'd rather be just then. 

Sirius has an arm around his neck, holding himself steady while he talks too-loudly at James, both of them laughing at something Remus is sure is not very funny. Remus lets himself wrap his arms around Sirius's waist, lets his fingers press to his hip bones. He blames the alcohol. 

The car stops and Lily is there hauling James and Sirius out of the backseat. Remus trips after them. They make their way up a walk to the front door of a towering townhouse. Remus thinks it might be painted black, but it's too dark to tell. 

The door opens them into the marbled floor of a foyer dominated by a staircase. Lily is ushering James to the right and Sirius is taking Remus to the left with a hand around his wrist. They fall onto an overstuffed sofa in a sitting room. Sirius reaches over and flicks on a lamp, turning the room into hues of soft orange and yellow. 

"I'm fucking starving. Are you starving?" Sirius asks, half laying on the opposite side of the sofa. Remus is propped against the armrest on the other side, their legs a mess of limbs between them. 

"I'm a little bit starving," he answers, laughing at the way his words come out a little slurred. 

"I want Thai - Oi! Lily, can we get Thai?!" 

There's no answer and Remus laughs again. 

"No, fuck that," he says between breaths. "We gotta get pizza. Pizza is the ultimate drunk food."

"Excuse me! It's my birthday!" 

Sirius launches a pillow across the couch, hitting Remus square in his face. They both lose it over that. Remus is bent forward, holding the pillow in his lap, heaving breaths, and Sirius has his head thrown back over the armrest as he cackles. 

"Bloody hell, what did you lot take?" 

Lily is in the doorway to the room, hands on her hips as she takes them in. There's a smile on her face, though, and Remus wipes tears from his eyes. 

"We want pizza," he announces. 

"No, we want Thai," Sirius corrects. Remus launches the pillow back at him, which sends the both of them into another fit of laughter. 

"Oh my god." Lily sounds exasperated. Any other time, maybe when Remus isn't so delirious with drink and the feeling of Sirius so close to him and laughing so hard, he would feel sorry for making her deal with all this. "We're getting pizza," she decides. 

"It's my birthday!" Sirius shouts again, sounding a little indignant and a lot whiny. Remus finds it endearing and hilarious. He watches Lily leave the room again through eyes blurred with tears. 

"You're like a bridezilla, but for your birthday," Remus tells him. "Like a...birthday-zilla." 

"Me being born is a blessing you all should celebrate with abandon," Sirius says. He nods like he's just said something very profound. Remus unearths another cushion from under his back and smacks him against the thigh with it. 

"You are such a narcissist," Remus laughs. 

"At least I'm pretty." Sirius bats his eyelashes and Remus rolls his eyes. Sirius does, in fact, look very pretty under the soft light of the room. Remus notices now that he has flecks of glitter all over his face. Whether or not it's intentional, it certainly adds to the fuzzy feeling Remus is harboring right now in the pit of his stomach. 

"If only your adoring fans knew what you really were like," Remus says. "I think I'll write a tell-all when we have a very public breakup." 

The pillow hits him, right in the face again. "I'll write a whole album cursing your name. What rhymes with Remus? Pain in my arse-us?"

"That sounds like a real hit." 

"I'll workshop it." 

The smile Sirius sends him makes that warm sensation in Remus's stomach grow. It's teasing, really. Innocent. But Remus likes the way the light hits his lower lip and casts shadows across his chin and sends his cheekbones into dark hollows. He knows Sirius is hot - he has known it since he laid eyes on him, so why does he feel like he's falling off a cliff when he looks him in the eye for too long? 

It's all entirely too much, so Remus throws the cushion back at him and an all out pillow fight ensues. 

When the pizza arrives, Lily setting it on the coffee table for them like a couple of toddlers, they settle back into their seats, now side by side, elbows brushing one another. She brings them glasses of water and instructs them to drink. 

"This smells so fucking good," Sirius all but moans. "It tastes so fucking good," he says through a mouthful of pepperoni. 

"I told you so," Remus mutters, taking a bite out of his own slice. They forgo the plates completely and wipe their fingers on their jeans. Sirius's lips are shiny from the grease and Remus sort of wants to kiss them clean. 

They're both quiet while they eat, sobering a little with the food and the glasses of water. They put down an impressive amount of pizza and drink all of their water - much to Lily's approval. She gets them refills, saying she needs to take James home before he passes out and then it's just them. 

It's been just them before. It was just them on those fake dates, it was just them when Sirius took Remus shopping, it was just them the last time they were together - that kiss on the sidewalk that Remus cannot stop thinking about. It's just them now, in what Remus has deduced must be Sirius's house, in Sirius's living room, on Sirius's couch. 

It feels different. A little terrifying to the sober half of Remus's brain, and exhilarating for the less intelligent, drunk side of it. 

Sirius throws down half of a pizza slice and groans, falling back on the couch with his hands folded over his stomach. 

"Ok, you win, pizza was a good call," he says decidedly. 

Remus hums and dusts his hands of crumbs before joining him. He kicks his feet up onto the coffee table - dark polished wood, he registers now. In fact, the whole room is panelled halfway up the walls with dark wood, the rest of it painted a deep maroon color. The furniture is mismatched and heavily adorned with throw pillows and blankets. There's a record player in the corner and what look like framed posters on the walls. He'd never thought much about where Sirius lived before, but now that he sees it, he isn't sure if he's surprised or not. 

"Lovely home you've got here," he says. There's a hint of sarcasm, but only a hint. He does find the one room he's seen quite nice, comfortable. 

"I had some company come in and do all the decorating," Sirius snorts. "They did alright."

"What? This isn't your cup of tea?" Remus gestures vaguely around the room. 

Sirius shrugs. "I don't know. I don't mind it."

Remus rolls his eyes. If he had a big house like this and the kind of money Sirius does, he'd cultivate every room until it felt like home. 

"I spend a lot of time touring," Sirius continues. "This place is...big."

"Big's a bad thing?" Remus quirks an eyebrow. He's never really considered the possibility that a house could be too big. 

"Not always," he says. He turns a little, leaning on one elbow so he's facing Remus. Something about it, the dim light of the room, how close they're sitting, feels intimate. Remus doesn't know if he likes it. He kind of feels like he's being electrocuted. "S'alright," he says, "when James and Lily or whoever are round. It doesn't feel so empty." 

He's still a little drunk. Remus can see it in his eyes. He's a little drunk too. This is a drunken conversation, drunken proximity to each other. The flutter he feels in his stomach when he looks at the way the warm light turns Sirius's eyes into shining silver is all alcohol-induced. 

"Why not get a smaller house then?" Remus asks. 

Sirius hums and glances around the room. Remus tries not to focus too much on the way his jaw catches the light and he can see the slightest of stubble beginning there. It's hot, but only because Sirius is hot and Remus is drunk. He thinks briefly about dragging his teeth along the line of that jaw. 

"I have a reputation to uphold, Remus."

Sirius has said his name dozens of times before so Remus isn't quite sure why it's this time that sends a jolt through his body. 

"Right, of course you do," he tries to joke. It comes out a little softer than he'd intended but Sirius smiles. This is familiar territory, this is safe. 

"What are you going to do, you know, when all of this is over?" Sirius gestures between them. "When you're filthy rich."

Remus huffs out a breath, half laughing. He's thought about it - of course he's thought about it. Come January, he'll have another meeting with Lily about whether he wants to sign another contract to keep this going or not. Right now, he can't imagine saying no. Either way, he'd have plenty of money in his bank account. He could do anything. It's a different kind of terrifying than having no money at all. 

"I think..." he begins, staring at the ceiling. "I think I might go back to school." He doesn't look at Sirius, he doesn't want to know what kind of reaction he'd have. He's never said this out loud - never even fully thought it, he doesn't think. Still, hearing it, he's sure that it's what he would like to do. Or maybe that's just the alcohol. 

"For what?" Sirius asks simply. 

Remus looks over at him skeptically, looking for any signs of teasing. He's much older than the typical university student. It would be a whole other feat to face that when he steps into the classroom again. 

He shrugs a little. "English...or something. I was undeclared when I first went, but I didn't last long that time," he laughs, just for something to do. It eases the tension building in his chest a little. 

"Hey! I dropped out too," Sirius grins, like it's something to brag about. "Pre-law over here," he says, puffing out his chest. 

"Pre-law?" Remus can't help his laugh this time. 

"Oh yeah, family business and all that," he says, still grinning. "Can you imagine me in a grey suit in a courtroom?" 

"Absolutely not," Remus shakes his head, taking in Sirius's wild hair and skin-tight clothes. 

"I would've been awful," he sighs. "My parents weren't all that pleased when I blew off school and used my trust to produce an album, but, hey, I did alright." 

He smiles, but there's something off about it. Something sad lurking beneath the surface. 

"What about now?" Remus tries because he's drunk and being drunk means he's allowed to ask questions sober-Remus wouldn't dare. "Are they proud of you?"

Sirius makes a face at the ceiling and Remus knows he's gone too far - too deep. 

"Doesn't matter what they think, does it?" Sirius says. "Hey, do you like Bowie? Everyone likes Bowie." 

He's up off the couch and digging through a crate of records before Remus can get a word in. 

The rest of the night is filled with vinyl and cold pepperoni. They talk, but mostly about music and Remus's past jobs. There is no more talk of parents, which Remus should really be grateful for because he doesn't exactly have the best relationship with his either, but he's still curious. He doesn't remember coming across anything about Sirius's family when he did his stalking all those weeks ago. He could look again, but that somehow feels like a breach of privacy, even if it is out there on the internet for anyone to read. 

It's nice anyway, to lay in the dim room on the comfortable sofa under the warm lighting. It's nice to hear Sirius talk, to hear his voice get tired from laughing too hard, to hear him murmur along to lyrics of songs Remus doesn't know. It's comfortable, somehow, like he's been having late night chats with Sirius Black in this posh house for years. Like he's known him for years. 

It's a little concerning, but Remus reminds himself he's drunk even when he knows he's sobered up.  

Chapter 12: Debrief Time!

Remus wakes to his phone violently vibrating. He groans and pats around himself before he wrenches it from his back pocket just as it goes silent. Three missed calls from Marlene and a string of texts. Panic shoots through him for a second, realizing that this is not his couch, not his living room, and Marlene has been trying to get a hold of him for an hour. 

Marlene: omg Remus

Marlene: you're never going to believe what I did

Marlene: it might be bad but I can't tell yet

Marlene: call me dickhead

Marlene: where are you?

Marlene: I'm literally in a crisis and you're not home. You're never not home. 

Marlene: I should've put a tracker in you when I had the chance. 

Remus calms down a little. It's not a life or death crisis at least. He glances around again and remembers last night. He must've fallen asleep on Sirius's couch and...oh. 

Sirius fell asleep here too. Remus can feel his legs now, twined with his own, socked feet against the backs of his knees. He eases himself into a sitting position, careful not to disturb him. Sirius doesn't even flinch. 

It feels wrong to look at him like this, like some sacred thing only reserved for close friends, but Remus looks anyway. His hair is a mess, all fanned across the pillow behind him and curling down over his forehead. He's got his hands curled up to his chest, making him look smaller and younger than normal. His eyelashes are stark against his pale skin. It's enchanting and endearing and Remus hates it. 

He disentangles himself from the couch and grabs his water glass from the night before. He crosses the foyer again and into the other side of the house where he finds a kitchen. He fills his cup from the tap and drinks it in one go. Then, he pulls out his phone again to answer Marlene. 

Remus: Sorry I stayed at Sirius's last night. I'm heading home soon. 

It buzzes with a response almost immediately. 

Marlene: omg did you guys have birthday sex!!!!????

Remus: No. 

Marlene: lameee

Remus rolls his eyes at his phone and puts it away. He fills his glass again and goes back to the sitting room in search of his shoes. It's when he's lacing them up that Sirius stirs, making a kind of adorable sleepy sound that Remus will never admit to liking. 

"Hey," Remus says softly, standing up off the arm chair he'd been sitting in. "I gotta go, but I left you some water." 

Sirius groans and shoves his face into his pillow. Remus bites back a smile. He does not like how Sirius looks when he's sleeping or fighting against waking up. He doesn't like the curve of his spine as he curls in on himself. He doesn't find any of it cute in the slightest. 

Remus splurges for a cab home because he realizes that he's across the city now and doesn't like the idea of getting on a bus at the moment. He's not terribly hungover, but he's definitely got a bit of a headache and a sore shoulder from sleeping funny. 

He rests his head against the cool car window during the drive. The night comes back to him in pieces - Sirius looking completely indecent dancing, Sirius drinking straight from a bottle of liquor, Sirius kissing him and tasting of said liquor, Sirius sobering up and looking at him across the sofa with those soft grey eyes that make Remus's heart ache. He tries not to think too hard about that last part.  

Marlene is bounding into the living room as soon as Remus opens the door, still in her clothes from the night before with makeup smudged beneath her eyes. 

"Remus," she says, grabbing him by the arms and looking intently into his eyes. He raises his eyebrows at her. "I did something that might be bad."

"Out with it then," he nods, suppressing the urge to laugh. It's hard to take her seriously when she has racoon eyes and her hair is all frizzed up from not being brushed. 

"I... I slept with Dorcas," she says all in a rush. She stares at her feet as Remus takes this in. "It was good - like, really fucking good, but I think it was a mistake. I think I like her and - oh god now she probably thinks I'm easy because I put out like that. Jesus, what is wrong with me? I fucked up, didn't I Rem? I shouldn't have done that, should I? Oh my god, I -"

"Marls," Remus stops her, setting his hands firmly on her shoulders. She meets his eye again, looking on the brink of tears. "Slow down. You slept with Dorcas? Sirius's producer?" 

Marlene nods, chewing her lip. "We were dancing and then...it just kind of happened." 

"Ok, and, what? Was is super awkward in the morning? What happened?" 

"I don't know," she shrugs half heartedly. "She, like, made me coffee and stuff." 

"That's sweet," Remus nods. Some bizzare, insane half of his brain is thinking about bringing water to Sirius this morning. Maybe he should've made him coffee too. He could've searched the kitchen for mugs and greeted him with a steaming cup. 

"Yeah, well... I don't know. I think I like her, Remus. What if I screwed it all up?" 

"She didn't kick you out this morning, so that's a good sign," Remus tries. "I think you should talk to her. Do you have her number or anything?" 

"We were talking on Twitter for a while," she answers. Her eyes look wide and terrified. It's strange to see such fear on someone that Remus knows as fearless. He thinks about her leading the charge last night into the club, how she refused to flinch in the face of a security guard and a group of people she'd hardly ever met before. 

"So send her a message," Remus shrugs, taking a step back. That's what he would do - not that he ever wanted anything to do with a one night stand the morning after. He always slipped out as soon as he got the chance, usually before the sun had even risen. That stupid part of his brain comes back, telling him to message Sirius, to ask how bad his hangover is. 

"What do I say?" She half-whispers. She takes her phone slowly from her pocket and unlocks it. 

"I dunno, thanks for the great shag we should do it again sometime?" 

The glare he receives in response is much more natural on her face than the fear. He almost laughs, but he controls himself.

"Ok, fine. Ask her out for coffee or something, to return the favor, you know." 

Marlene nods, staring intently at her phone as she taps away. Remus waits for her to finish, finally letting himself laugh when she tosses it in the general direction of the arm chair in the living room. She lets out a heavy sigh, shaking out her arms and turning her attention back to him. 

"Alright, your turn," she says, looking at him expectantly. "What happened last night after I left? You and Sirius had a sleepover?" She wiggles her eyebrows a little at the last part and Remus rolls his eyes. 

"Yes," he says, not giving into her obvious prodding. "Lily took us there and ordered pizza. We fell asleep on the couch, that's it." 

 She grins, like this is a huge confession. "And? How was it?" 

"Fine," he shrugs. "I don't know. We were drunk." 

Yes, he reminds himself. Whatever happened last night was only because they were drunk. Remus doesn't need to feel things about it. He doesn't even need to really think about it. 

He turns and throws himself face down onto the couch. His head is starting to hurt worse now. He doesn't want to have this conversation. 

Marlene's voice follows him. "So, did you cuddle up on the couch? Was there spooning?" 

"Marlene," he groans, pushing his face further into the cushions. "Can we not talk about this? I have a major headache." 

"Alright, fine," she concedes, only sounding a little disappointed. 

Remus feels a little guilty listening to her footsteps down the hall into her bedroom. The door clicks and he squeezes his eyes shut, like it will protect him from her implications, from his own confusing thoughts. 

He doesn't want to talk about Sirius. He doesn't even want to think about Sirius. There's too much to unravel, too many strings to pull. Remus is terrified at what he might find at the center of it all. He just needs to push it all down and wait for it to pass. Whatever he feels for Sirius will pass. He just needs a distraction. And space. He needs to put some distance between himself and Sirius. That will clear his head a little, when it's not clouded by the scent of his cologne and the lingering taste of his lips. 

Chapter 13: Rest in Peril

Sirius leaves for a festival in the states for a week. Remus gets a whole seven days off from the overwhelming sensation that consumes him when they're in the same room together. He lets Lily send out tweets for him, and avoids social media at all costs. He starts reading a book that Marlene left out. He goes with her to the animal shelter she works at a few days to volunteer. He buries himself in printed words and dog food and two blankets at night. He books a flight home for Christmas and calls his mum to see if he should bring anything.

Sirius does not seem to be on the same wavelength. He sends Remus text after text, post after post about them, a stupid online quiz to find out if you're a jean jacket or leather jacket gay. Sirius is appalled to find out he's the former. It goes on three days without Remus answering until Sirius gets fed up. 

Sirius: did your phone break or something? I am providing you with top notch conversation here

Remus gives in a little quicker than he thought he would. It's embarrassing. 

Remus: Sorry. I've been busy. I started volunteering at the shelter with Marls. 

Sirius: I need pictures of you with puppies right now

Remus: Bossy. 

Remus sends the pictures. He does not blush at the string of heart emojis he gets in response, even if Marlene asks him why he looks like a tomato. 

It's like falling into a trap, opening the floodgates. He can't put his phone down. His heart jumps every time it goes off, and he curses himself for hoping that it's Sirius on the other end. He hates the nonconsensual smile that pulls at his lips when he's reading their messages. He shuts Marlene down anytime she tries to ask about it. He feels a bit like an asshole, but he isn't sure what else to do with himself. 

There's too much there. There's too much and not enough because he really wants to see Sirius again and he hates himself for it. It's stupid. It's a crush. He needs to get over this. Sirius is a job. Remus might not know much about holding down one, but he does know not to get involved with coworkers. Don't shit where you eat. 

Still, despite every facet of his brain telling him to not, when Lily tells him Sirius is back from his trip and there's a heavily photographed date planned, he's dressed and ready to go an hour early. Marlene gives him a pointed look, but keeps her mouth shut about it. Remus lets her do his hair. 

The cab deposits him outside the townhouse. It's dark in the evening light, but Remus can see now that the front of it is lined with rose bushes and the grass is evenly cut and green. It looks like every other house in the row in a darker color scheme. Remus can see a light on in the kitchen. 

He knocks once. There's no answer. He knocks again. 

It's James who finally answers the door, looking completely frazzled and taken aback to see Remus on the stoop. 

"Remus," he says, running a hand through his horribly mussed hair. "What...what are you doing here?" 

Remus feels his heart drop. Something is wrong. Really fucking wrong if James's expression is anything to go by. 

"I'm supposed to be on a date with Sirius," he says, trying to keep his voice even. "Lily said the car was picking us up from here."

"Lily," James says, rubbing his eyes hard and shaking his head. "Fuck, no one told Lily."

"What's going on-" 

"Remus!" 

They both look over James's shoulder at that. Sirius is there in the foyer, stumbling over his own feet and holding a bottle of gin. James grimaces. 

"What happened?" Remus hisses quietly. 

"Just get in here," James says, tugging him into the house by the arm. 

"Have you heard the news, darling? Are you here to celebrate with us?" Sirius is slurring his words, his eyes an unnatural kind of wild and bright. Remus looks to James who is still looking at Sirius with an expression of pity and worry. 

"What?" Remus asks, at a loss. 

"Ding-dong, the witch is dead!" Sirius sing-songs, lifting his bottle before taking a long pull from it. 

"His mum," James says softly. It strikes Remus right in the chest. He thinks of how closed off Sirius became when they were talking about family that last night together. He takes in the bizzare expression on Sirius's face, the wild shine in his eyes.

"Walburga Black!" Sirius continues, "A horrible woman! What a wonderful world we live in without her!" He takes a step forward and nearly trips over his own feet. 

Remus is there in a second without thinking, holding him steady with his hands on his elbows. "Jesus, Sirius, how much have you had?" 

Sirius just smiles at him dopily. "You know," he begins, "I bloody missed you in California. I wish you would've come." 

Remus just shakes his head. Sirius is here, wasted, celebrating the death of his mother, and he's telling Remus that he missed him in California. He almost wishes he stayed outside. He looks back to James who seems to be just as lost as he is. 

"You're, like, the life of the party," Sirius slurs, gesturing with the bottle. It dangles dangerously from his fingers. Remus eases it out of his grip, glad when Sirius doesn't fight him on it. Wordlessly, he hands it over to James. 

"I'll come next time," Remus tells him. 

"You fuckin' better."

"C'mon, you need some water or something," he says, pulling gently on his arm toward the kitchen. 

"No, I need another drink," Sirius says. That wild grin on his face has yet to fade. 

Remus looks to James who is scrubbing a hand over his face. "Can you just..." He sighs. "There's a sandwich in there, make him eat it. I have to call Lily."

Remus pulls Sirius fully into the kitchen with a little more force than before, but he doesn't know what else to do. This version of Sirius is frightening in a strange way.  He deposits him at the breakfast bar and pushes the half-eaten sandwich toward him. "Time to sober up," he says. Sirius pouts at him. 

"Are you coming with me to the bar? I want to go celebrate," he says, looking straight past the food to Remus. His pout is infuriatingly cute. Remus wants to scream. 

"Maybe," he answers. "But only if you sober up." 

Dutifully, Sirius picks up the sandwich and takes an exaggeratedly large bite. 

"There you go," Remus nods. He fills a cup with water and pushes it toward him, leaning against the opposite side of the bar. 

"Aw, you're always bringing me water, Rem," Sirius gushes. 

Remus rolls his eyes and fights the blush rising in his cheeks. "I brought you water once," he retorts. "If you weren't so bloody drunk all the time I wouldn't have to." 

Sirius pouts again. "My mum just died." 

For a moment, panic surges through Remus. Then, Sirius is laughing. 

"You would've hated her," he says. 

"Would I?" Remus asks. What does one say when their sort-of-friend sort-of-crush is laughing over the death of their estranged mother. 

"Oh yeah, she hated the gays. She would never approve of that jacket either." Sirius points at the jean jacket. 

"Well it's a good thing I'm a leather jacket gay then," Remus says. 

"You took the quiz!" Sirius gasps. "There's no way you're a leather jacket gay and I'm not! This is blasphemy. I demand a recount." 

Remus laughs because there's nothing else to do. He thinks this might be the strangest night of his life, and he's lived with Marlene for years. 

"Are you sobering up?" James asks from the doorway to the kitchen. 

"Trying to," Remus answers, looking at the mostly eaten sandwich and the half-empty water glass. 

"I'm ready to go out! Are you coming out with us, Jamie?" Sirius springs up off his stool and grabs James by the hands. 

"Sirius..." James gives him a look. Sirius is using puppy dog eyes though. Remus fucking loves those eyes. "Fucking hell," James sighs. "You're an arse, you know that." 

Sirius grins. "I love you too."

"We can have one drink," he concedes. "And no one tells Lily." He looks over to Remus who nods in agreement. This seems like a terrible idea, but something tells him that Sirius would probably go out on his own anyway. There's this urge in him too, like he needs to protect him. 

James takes out his phone again and starts to talk to someone. 

Sirius turns his gaze back to Remus, looking like he just won the lottery. "I'm gonna get you so drunk, Rem," he declares. "You're so funny when you're drunk. Especially when you're trying to dance." He laughs to himself and Remus feels himself flush. 

"Sorry I don't literally dance in front of people for a living," Remus crosses his arms. 

"It's all in the hips, darling," Sirius sways across the kitchen toward him. Remus tries to hold his ground. 

"Sure," Remus forces a laugh. Sirius sets his hands on his hips now, trying to get him to move to some imaginary music. He sucks in a breath, reminds himself that Sirius is drunk, that this stupid crush will pass. 

"Loosen up, will you?" Sirius scoffs, fingers digging into Remus's skin. It sends fire through his veins. 

Remus stares down at his hands, the way his pale fingers look against the blue denim of his jacket. He sees their feet, scuffed boots and fancy trainers standing toe-to-toe. He sees Sirius's hips still moving a little, those god forsaken jeans that never seem to sit entirely on his waist. If his shirt moved just a bit, Remus is sure he'd be treated with the sight of that line of muscle converging down and down. He wants to run his tongue over that line, wants to taste the sweat on Sirius's skin after he's been dancing, wants to inhale the scent of him, wants -

"Right, we've got a table," James says.

Remus has to clear his throat and swallow when he meets his gaze. Sirius still hasn't let go of his hips. He's leaning in now, actually, resting his shoulder against Remus's chest like it's the most natural thing in the world. Remus is praying that Sirius is too drunk to notice that his heart is beating out his chest. 

"C'mon then," Sirius says. 

 

The pub is much more understated than what Remus was expecting. It's not small, but it's not flashing with neon lights and crowded with bodies. There's a smattering of tables with people laughing and drinking, a bar made of polished wood with a handful of customers looking for their next round. A man guides the three of them toward the back of the pub, to a table that's already holding drinks for them. 

James takes a long pull from his pint. Remus just stares at his own. The foam fizzes near the rim, the glass sweating with condensation. Any other time he'd be glad for a cold beer, but he's on edge. He waiting for Sirius to do something - whether because of his mum or to make Remus feel like he's losing it. He watches him sip at a cocktail. 

James leans in, "Don't worry, there's hardly anything in there." 

Remus just nods and forces a smile. 

"Drink up, Remus," Sirius says. "I want to see some bad dancing tonight." 

"I think James has that covered," Remus answers. 

"Hey!" 

Remus chuckles, relaxing a little. He takes a sip of his drink, but he's not really in the mood for it. He wants to keep an eye on Sirius, even if he's sure James could do that job just as well - probably even better than he could. 

James makes good on his word any only allows Sirius the one drink. He downs the rest of his pint and agrees to dance with him to one song. Remus leans back in his seat and watches them, still nursing his pint. 

Sirius just looks so damn good when he's dancing. It doesn't even matter that none of it is particularly good dancing, it's just the fact that it's him. His body seems like it was made to move, to be watched. He sways his hips and raises his arms and throws his head back to laugh when James tries to copy him. His hair, even when it's in disarray, looks incredible. Remus thinks about wrapping his fingers up in that hair. He can't even blame the alcohol. 

It's five songs before they return to the table. Sirius looks pleasantly drunk and tired from dancing. James has a frown on his face. 

"Paps found us out," he says lowly, just for Remus to hear. 

Remus feels his pulse jump. He's reminded of that first time when he and Sirius were caught by a mob of cameras. He thinks about the strange wild and unstable look in his eyes. 

"Can't we go out the back or something?" He asks hopefully.

James shakes his head. "We'd have to walk a block to get somewhere the car could pick us up. Too risky." 

Remus nods, clenching his fists, steeling himself. "Right, we'll just block him then."

"We're gonna have to," James answers. 

Together, they start toward the doors of the pub. Remus watches James say something into Sirius's ear. His face drops and Remus hates the look in his eye. Something akin to fear. He thinks about Sirius in the car after their first "date" and tries to prepare himself for what awaits them on the street. 

"Keep your head down, just go left," James tells him. 

The doors open and a barrage of lights and shouts hit Remus like a brick wall. He blinks into them momentarily before remembering what he's supposed to be doing. Sirius is ducked by the wall of the pub, James a few steps ahead of him. Remus grabs him by the hand and pulls him along toward the car. 

He isn't sure what does it exactly. Maybe the lights or someone asking Sirius what brand he's wearing or someone's hand coming out to touch them, but when he hears someone shout the name Walburga Black, he loses it. It's like that day he quit the coffee shop, like all those times he got into bar fights. He sees red, feels his blood boil and it's over. 

The next thing he registers is an aching in his knuckles and the man in front of him with blood streaming from his nose. 

"Jesus christ, Remus," he hears James say, and then he's being shoved into a car. 

Chapter 14: Damage Control

Remus is banished upstairs as soon as they get back to Sirius's townhouse. Sirius had gone straight up without saying anything. He hadn't even looked at Remus in the car, just stared at his lap. James had switched between a look of shock and one of extreme anxiety. He at least let Remus get a head start before Lily showed up. 

He's really in it now. He supposes being fired would be a nice change from quitting. 

The upstairs hallway stretches both ways, worn hardwood floors with intricately patterned runners. Most of the doors are shut, painted black with silver knobs. Remus can see light spilling down the left side of the hall, a door not quite shut all the way. 

He pauses outside of it, peering in. He sees a massive fireplace that doesn't look like it's been used in a decade. There's a row of classic records leaning atop of it, the sleeves tattered a little around the edges. Across from it, there's a bed with a lump beneath the sheets. The golden light of the room is coming from the lamp next to it. 

He can hear Lily downstairs - What the hell happened, Potter! 

He taps at the door before easing it open. The lump does not move. 

"Hey," Remus says softly, crossing the plush rug separating him from the bed. Sirius is only a mop of black hair, not even an inch of his face visible. He clears his throat. 

Sirius doesn't react. Remus isn't even sure if he's breathing. He panics for a moment, that maybe he's succumbed to alcohol poisoning, choked on his own vomit in the five minutes he's been alone. That might give Lily an aneurism. 

"Sirius," he tries again. If he's going to be  up here hiding from Lily he'd like to be of some use - nevermind that he feels entirely responsible for bringing the mood of the night down. It wasn't exactly rainbows and sunshine before, but at least Sirius was talking. 

Remus sighs and, against his better judgement, walks around to the other side of the bed. He's half fueled by his own selfish guilt and desires to be the one who can comfort Sirius, but he also really does want to be helpful. 

He lies on the other side of the bed, sinking into a stupidly soft mattress and resting his head on the stupidly comfortable pillows. How long has it been since he slept in a bed? His last one night stand? He didn't do any sleeping then, just waited for the bloke to pass out so he could leave without any awkward goodbyes. 

Sirius shifts and Remus looks over at him. He's staring up at the ceiling, the straight line of his  nose illuminated by the lamp, his eyelashes impossibly long around his grey eyes - a golden color in the room now. Remus turns to look at the ceiling too before he does something dumb like reach out and touch him. He crosses his hands over his stomach for good measure. 

It's silent for a while, just the vague sounds of movement downstairs. Occasionally Remus catches something Lily or James says. They both sound exasperated and Remus is suddenly terrified that he might be the cause of some huge fight between them. He really should go down and own up to his shit instead of letting James take all the heat from it. There's so much risk getting involved with someone you have to work with, even if James doesn't technically work for Sirius. 

That's just another reason for him to put all these feelings he has in a box in the back of a very dark room. Only bad things can come from him acting on his impulses. He just needs to get through tonight, get through Lily telling him to fuck off and terminating his contract. It might be better that way anyway. He's going home to his parents tomorrow and he still doesn't know how he would even begin to explain to them what's going on between him and Sirius. 

He can't tell the truth, obviously. But he can't allow himself to talk about Sirius like he's really his boyfriend either. That's a whole can of worms he would rather stay intact. He doesn't even want to entertain the part of him that likes Sirius past the way he looks. 

Sirius finally breaks the silence. "Lily's really pissed with us." 

It startles a laugh out of Remus. "Yeah," he agrees, glancing over at him. 

Sirius sighs and meets his gaze. "You punched that guy," he says, matter-of-fact, his face blank, like he's telling Remus that he had a sandwich for lunch. 

Remus chews the inside of his cheek. "Yeah, sorry about that."

"He probably deserved it."

"I don't know about that. I hope I didn't break his nose." 

"That's kind of punk rock, Remus." 

It should come with a crooked smile, a glint in his eye, a teasing lilt to his voice. Sirius is slack-faced, though, eyes hollow. Remus thinks it might be more concerning that the previous unnatural look he had earlier. This is a bad night. He wants it to be over. 

"Are you going to hide up here with me all night, then?" Sirius asks, looking back at the ceiling now. 

"I should probably go downstairs and face the music," Remus answers, already halfway up. 

"Wait, Remus," Sirius stops him. His eyes look shiny but Remus can't be sure if it's the light or emotion making them that way. "Can you... Can you just stay here? Just for a bit?" His voice is a little unstable now. Remus is afraid he might cry. He's never been good with crying. "I just - I don't want to  be alone right now and Lily and James..." He trails off. 

Remus lies back down. He'll wait a little while longer before facing Lily's wrath. "Yeah, alright," he says. 

Sirius turns back onto his side, facing away from Remus. He turns the lamp down so it just barely shows the outlines of the furniture in the room and settles into the pillows. Remus lies very still, staring at the black ceiling above him. He tries very hard not to think about the fact that he's in Sirius's bed right now. 

It's not even that he wants to do anything. He just wants to be close to him. That's even worse than wanting to press him against a wall. 

 

Light filters through the sheer curtains when Remus wakes. There's a warm weight against his side and he looks down to see a mess of black curls tucked against his shoulder. Sometime in the night he and Sirius turned to face each other, not quite cuddling, but lying with their bodies touching. Remus feels a spark of panic flood through his body. 

Slowly, he eases himself out of the bed, made a little easier since he never got under the covers last night. Sirius stays dead to the world, still curled right up next to where Remus had be laying. It churns something in his stomach to see the rumpled pillow and sheets where he had slept. 

He pads into the hall, clicking the door shut softly behind him. There's a distant sound of movement downstairs and he sucks in a breath, preparing himself for what he'll have to face. He really should've gone down last night. He really should be gone now, packing for his flight that leaves tonight. He should not be sleeping in Sirius's bed and thinking about how nice it felt to feel the warmth of another human next to him in the morning. He hasn't woken up next to someone in such a long time. 

Lily is in the sitting room. She looks completely unlike herself in a pair of jeans and an oversized t-shirt. Her hair is in a messy ponytail and there's a tired look to her eyes. James is fast asleep on the sofa next to her. 

"Hi," he says quietly. 

She looks up from her phone that she'd been tying away on. Damage control thanks to Remus's inability to manage his impulsivity. "Remus," she sighs. 

She doesn't sound mad exactly, more tired, disappointed. Remus doesn't like the way it makes the guilt spike in his stomach. 

He opens his mouth to say sorry, to say he'll leave, something, but Lily beats him to it. 

"Come with me."

She guides him down a hall and into a room lined with bookshelves. She sits on one of the armchairs facing a heavy wooden desk at the center of the room. Remus takes the other one and tries to calm his shaking hands by shoving them between his thighs. 

"I'm really sorry, Lily. I don't know why I did that. I know I fucked up. I'll leave - I shouldn't even be here in the first place, I didn't mean to fall asleep. I'm sorry. I'll go." 

It all comes out in a rush, the words blurring together so much that Remus wonders if it's even understandable. Lily looks at him with those exhausted eyes. 

"Rem," she sighs again. "You really did fuck up," she says. Remus nods. "Peter's bloody livid and he's going to probably lose it when I tell him I'm not firing you."

"What?" 

Lily reaches out and Remus takes her hands, feeling a little dazed. This was not how he was expecting this conversation to go at all. He thought he'd finally have to suffer being on Lily Evans's bad side, to face her wrath and walk away with his tail between his legs. 

"James and I talked it over for a long time last night," she explains. "This is, like, a level ten catastrophe for someone in PR," she laughs humorlessly. Remus swallows. "But, Sirius has been so much better since we hired you. You know he agreed to do a docu-series about his tour? He's going to let some bloke with a camera shadow him for a dozen shows. That's not like him at all."

"I thought he hated interviews," Remus shakes his head. This is making his head spin. 

"Interviews, photoshoots, appearances," she chuckles. "Basically anything that doesn't have to do with hiding away in the studio."

"Ok..." 

"So," Lily continues. "I'm going to tell Peter that I know what I'm doing and to stay in his lane, and you're going to continue doing whatever it is you're doing that's making Sirius bearable around cameras."

"And the, you know, punching that guy?" Remus hadn't thought about lawsuits or any of that, but now it's flooding into his head. That would be one hell of a story - Sirius Black's ex-boyfriend arrested on assault charges. The paps probably got a good shot to go along with it too. 

"We're getting in touch with him," Lily says. "We're going to do everything to keep it on the down-low, settle out of court and all that." 

"Ok," Remus nods again. That would be the best case scenario. He just hopes that the photos don't end up on any tabloids. His parents would lose it. 

"You're on a total lockdown for all social media, though," she tells him with a stern look.

"Right," he agrees. He wouldn't even know what to post. It doesn't exactly feel right to keep up his teasing on Twitter with Sirius and James after last night. 

"Now, I want you to go have a good Christmas - you're flying home aren't you?" Remus nods. "Good. Go home. Let me deal with all this, and when you come back you'll make an appearance for the docu-series and the public will love you again."

"Thanks Lily," Remus smiles weakly. He still feels on edge, still feels guilty, but at least Lily isn't ripping him a new one. 

"You're a good guy, Rem. Don't make me fire you." 

 

Later, when she's walking him to the door, Lily stops him again with a hand on his shoulder.

"Remus, you should probably know if you're going to be sticking around," she begins, looking serious. 

"Know what?" He asks, mind going in a thousand different directions. 

"It's really not my place to tell you, but Sirius has done stuff like this in the past."

"What? Gone on a bender?" Remus can see that. Sirius is obviously bad a coping with the fact that his image is plastered everywhere, that a thousand cameras want to take his picture. He'd probably get plastered every once in a while too. 

"Kind of," Lily sighs, looking away, almost like she's checking that no one's listening in. "He's got problems with mood swings and stuff," she explains. "He's on medication, but sometimes it isn't enough. Family stuff really fucks with his head."

"Yeah," Remus says, rubbing the back of his head. He remembers how quickly Sirius changed the subject on the night of his birthday, how every day since Remus has thought about looking up his family. Now, especially, he's glad he didn't. He doesn't want to have to pretend to not know. "I kind of gathered that."

"Good," Lily nods. She smiles in a way that looks a little forced. Remus is sure his looks the same. "Happy Christmas, Rem."

"Happy Christmas."

Chapter 15: I am very disappointed in you, mister

Coming home is always a little jarring. Remus hasn't been here in a year. He tries not to come back more often than that, even if it makes him feel incredibly guilty. 

This house is where he was the quiet, slouched version of himself. This was where he snuck into the back garden to smoke pot and hid away for long weekends reading books about other troubled teenagers and people who lived long before him. This is where he was never really himself, always too caught up in his own head to really figure out what he wanted. 

Now, he's a troubled twenty-five year old who still smokes pot now and again, yes, but he also hasn't read much since he left, he hasn't graduated from uni and made it big as an author or a professor like he had always planned he would. He's not particularly good at anything, and this house just reminds him that he's always been that way. 

His childhood bedroom has been painted beige. The bed is moved away from the wall and into the middle of the room, the sheets now all a crisp white. His posters have been replaced with scenic shots of coastlines and waves crashing into beaches. The only things that remain are a bookshelf stuffed full of all the books he used to pour over late into the night, and a cardboard box shoved way back in the closet with his name scrawled on the side.  

Everything he owns is contained to a couple of drawers in London and a single box here at home. 

He manages to disappear into his room for an early night, blaming his flight for his bad mood. He doesn't really want to be here, but he doesn't really want to be in London either. He doesn't really want to be anywhere. 

He opens Twitter to see photo after photo of himself standing nose to nose with a photographer. Thankfully, no one caught the actual punching on camera - or they just haven't posted it yet. Still, it's clear what happened. Remus is there staring down the man, then he's looking down at his own hand and blood is pouring from the photographer's nose. 

Lily has released a statement on behalf of himself and Sirius - The incident at the Gringotts Pub is not something we take lightly, we are determining how to handle this situation... 

It's very professional, very ambiguous, exactly what Remus had expected. 

He digs out his headphones and turns on music instead. He can wallow in self pity with a fitting soundtrack at least. 

He's half asleep when a new song starts and Remus feels something pull at his chest. It's Sirius's voice, a soft, slower song. Remus knows that guitar line, he's heard it before, sitting in the studio. He's watched Sirius's fingers dance over the fretboard and pluck out the notes with ease. He's singing about drowning - or feeling like he's drowning. Remus still doesn't know if he likes all the roundabout and metaphorical ways that Sirius talks about things in his songs. It feels like he has to dissect each line in order to really understand it half the time. 

He closes his eyes again and lets the chorus play. He pretends that he's back at the townhouse, in Sirius's bed, that he could look over and see him sleeping just then. He imagines that he might reach out and stroke his hair, admire the way it fans across his pillow. 

He dreams about a room with sheer curtains and a massive fireplace and a weight on his chest. 

 

Remus gets about five minutes in the morning to trudge out of his room and make himself coffee. He's just sitting down at the kitchen table, taking his first sip, when his mum drops a handful of magazines in front of him. Remus blinks. He's there on the cover. He had be expecting this. He just hasn't had time to think about how he would explain it to his parents. 

"Remus John Lupin," she says in the same tone she used when she found out he'd been skipping classes or came home smelling of vodka

. He grimaces into his mug. "What is this?" 

"What's going on?" His dad asks, sitting across from him. He reaches for the magazine and Remus nearly snatches it back out of his hands. His mum is bad enough, but having his father bear down on him with that disappointed furrow in his brow makes him want to crawl back under the covers in his room. 

"Listen," he tries, looking up at his mum with the most innocent expression he can muster. 

"Remus," his father sighs. There's that horrible look, etched into the lines of his forehead. 

"It's - it's being taken care of, ok?" He looks between them, his mother's furious expression, his father's scathing disappointment. He feels sixteen all over again, being caught with a bag of weed. 

"How exactly is it being taken care of?" His mum asks, hands on her hips now. Remus wants to fucking die. 

"Lily - she's a..." He chews his lip, trying to figure out how to explain himself - explain this, the whole cluster-fuck of it. "Well, she's really good at this kind of stuff, ok? She's handling it. It's all going to be out of court."

"What about your job, Remus?" His father asks. He's flipped the magazine over, like he can't bear to look at it any longer. Remus doesn't blame him. He'd rather not see that image ever again either. 

His mum makes a sound of agreement. Remus pinches the bridge of his nose. This is bad. Really bad. He wants to go back in time and be in bed again. He wants more time to figure out how to deal with this. He wants to never have gone out that night. He wishes he and James would've just tied Sirius up until he calmed down. 

But, no. That's not fair. It's not Sirius's fault. It's his own. He was the one who couldn't control himself, who just acted without thinking. He wasn't even drunk. He was just stupid and on edge and terrified of what might happen to Sirius. 

God, Sirius makes him crazy. 

"I don't..." Remus clears his throat. Here goes. He has too many secrets to keep. They're getting heavy. "I'm not working for them anymore." 

"What? When did this happen?" His dad looks appalled. In their eyes he's had a good, stable job for years now. In their eyes Remus is doing exactly what they'd always hoped. He's living large in London, working with highly accomplished writers and putting his degree to good use. 

"Uh... Just a few months ago." It's another lie, another secret to keep, but at least it's closer to the truth. 

"Why didn't you tell us?" His mum sits in the seat next to him now. They both don't seem so mad anymore, but Remus is still panicking a little. Everything could come undone right now if he's not careful. 

"Look," he sighs, trying to gather his thoughts. "I'm just taking some time to work on my own projects right now," he explains. He has been reading more, trying to remember why he went to uni in the first place. He's planning on going back to uni, really, to set this all right and become the son his parents think they have.

"Well that's great," his mum says. "I still don't understand why you're on the cover of a magazine with blood on your knuckles, though." 

"You've never been violent, Remus, I don't understand," his father chimes in. Remus could almost laugh. How little they know about him. How sad it is. 

"I know," he nods instead. "It was a fluke, alright? Things were...intense that night. It just happened." 

"And that man?" His mum asks. 

Right. He should probably follow up with Lily soon to see if she's actually managing to keep this quiet. He needs to bake her a cake or something. 

"It's being handled," he says again. 

"Ok," his mum nods. "I just..." she sighs. "If this has to do with this new boy you're seeing -"

"It's not," Remus says quickly. "Sirius is a really good guy. He's been good to me." 

"I wish you'd bring him round sometime," his father says. His expression is a little softer now. Remus remembers how easily he accepted him when he came out. His father barely batted an eye. His mum had taken some time to really come around, but without him, Remus is sure she would've taken much longer. 

His parents are good people. They're really good - especially to Remus who, by all accounts, is a quite shit excuse for a son. 

"Yeah, I will," he gives in. 

"We'd really like that, dear," his mum agrees, touching his shoulder. 

Remus lets himself imagine if things were as simple as they both believe them to be. If he and Sirius genuinely loved each other, if he could bring him home for the holidays and have his parents dote over him. It pulls at his heart. He feels like he might cry for some reason. 

"I -" He clears his throat, standing from the table. "I'm going to take a walk and see if Lily has any news," he says. 

He's gone before his parents can say anything, shrugging on his coat - the fancy one that Sirius bought him - and stepping out into the frigid morning air. He doesn't even care that he's still in his pajamas. They're Christmas ones with snowmans all over. 

He doesn't call Lily. Part of him is too afraid that she can't fix it, that he's going to have to finally pay for the consequences of his actions. His whole life is so fucked and for some reason he can't help himself from fucking it up some more. Maybe he was destined to live in fight or flight mode. Maybe it's the only mode he knows how to be in. 

 

When he returns an hour later his parents are both gone from the kitchen. Remus can hear the TV going in the next room as he reheats his coffee. He's glad that whoever's in there doesn't come to talk to him. He's sick of talking. 

He takes his coffee back to his room and climbs beneath the covers. He feels much younger than he really is, wishing his parents could come and get rid of all the monsters haunting him at night. 

He finds his phone beneath his pillow from where he left it this morning. He hasn't had it in him to check his notifications. He knows that what he did is probably trending on Twitter or something. He's gone from beloved boyfriend of an iconic rockstar to a violent psychopath in the eyes of the media. Why did he agree to sign up for this again? All he's done from the beginning is create problem after problem for Lily. Why doesn't she hate him?

There's a message waiting for him. The name makes his heart jump a little. It also does a strange job of calming his nerves. He doesn't want to think about that too hard right now. 

Sirius: hey

Remus stares at it. He doesn't want to talk about what happened. He doesn't want to continue to dissect where things went wrong. He wants to go back to when things were simple. 

Remus: Hi

He chews his thumbnail, coffee long forgotten on his bedside table. He hopes for the easy banter they used to exchange.

Sirius: how's christmas at the Lupin's?

That should be an easy question. Sirius probably doesn't want to talk about it either. Remus doesn't want to talk about his parents though. 

Remus: Very eventful. Having the time of my life. How's London?

Sirius: I'm with James's family for the holidays. Lily and his mum have made a whole itinerary for the week. 

Remus: That sounds about right. Did she get you all matching pajamas? Will I get a Christmas card?

Sirius: no

Sirius: do YOU have matching pajamas?

Remus: Not since I was ten. I am wearing snowman pajamas though. 

Sirius: I need pictures right now!

Remus: Of me when I was ten or of my snowman pajamas? 

Sirius: both obviously. 

Remus smiles at his phone. This is what he'd wanted. It lifts the weight resting on his chest just enough that he can breathe again. He finds he misses Sirius. He sort of wishes he were with the Potters for Christmas. 

He sends a picture of his legs to show off his snowmen and promises to see if he can find a picture from when he was a kid. 

Sirius tells him he's going to find a pair so that they can match. Remus blushes at that message. It's a little easier to let himself enjoy it when Sirius isn't there to pay witness. 

Notes:

I promise things are getting spicy soon.

Chapter 16: You're In Denial, Sweetheart

New Year's is a whirlwind. Hope Lupin is famous for her annual party, inviting the whole neighborhood, coworkers, friends of friends, and, even once, a man she met while doing her shopping. Ralph ended up becoming a quite close friend of the family. 

Remus offers to clean the bathrooms, just to get as far away from the chaos as possible. He runs out for last minute ingredients and stays the hell out of the kitchen while his mum makes horderves. His dad is a bit calmer, gladly letting Remus take over hanging the decorations while he stands aside to direct him. 

By the time the guests arrive, Remus is two glasses of champagne deep and exhausted. His mum, at least, has put on her winning smile and is distracted being a wonderful host to every new face that shows at the door. 

Remus continues to stay out of the way, dodging family friends that are probably desperate to corner him and talk about his new fancy life in London, or maybe even the fact that he's been appearing on the cover of magazines and trending on Twitter. He hides away in dark corners and keeps his head down, sipping on champagne and mimosas until his head is blissfully foggy. 

At midnight, the whole crowd gathers round and toasts to the new year. Remus's phone goes off in his pocket. 

It's a photo of Sirius at what looks like a party. He's wearing a tophat and a sparkly suit jacket, looking entirely stunning. Happy new year, darling, it reads. Remus stares at Sirius's full lips in the photo, imagines kissing those lips when the clock strikes twelve. The idea of him kissing someone else at midnight makes his stomach turn. 

He wonders if Sirius would bring someone home if he could keep it discreet enough. He's not obligated to be celibate just because Remus is his public boyfriend. He's allowed to have a one-off shag with someone. The thought of it makes Remus feel a bit nauseous and he sets his champagne on a table and leaves it there. 

He's been in Sirius's bed now, slept there next to him, woken up next to him, seen how his hair looks splayed in a mess over his pillow. He doesn't want anyone else in that bed. He doesn't want Sirius in anyone else's bed. 

Remus: Happy new year, sweetheart. 

Remus allows himself the pet name. Sirius uses them so freely, and he's a little tipsy. Maybe if he plays into it Sirius won't want to bring someone else home.  

Sirius: I can't believe you didn't come back

Sirius: this party is so horrible

Remus: It doesn't look horrible.

Sirius: I'm in a suit Remus! a SUIT!

Remus: At least it's got glitter

Sirius: Lily said you're coming to my show on the third 

Remus: I am. 

Sirius: good. James has been on a no fun policy since you-know-what and he's been incredibly boring

Remus: I'll rescue you soon

Sirius: you better or else Lily might have to bail me out of jail

Remus: She'd kill you

Sirius: come home soon, my love

Remus: I will, my darling. 

Remus is smiling like an idiot at his phone. He's slipping and he knows it. He wants Sirius, wants him around, wants to keep texting like this, keep up this fake flirting. He's allowed this. He's allowed to flirt because Sirius doesn't know that he means it. He's allowed to kiss him because he's telling himself that he doesn't mean it. 

The party is still lively, but Remus knows it's going to wind down soon, so he slips into his bedroom before anyone can stop him. 

He lies in bed, still in his clothes, and lets his mind go to Sirius. It's harder to stop it when he's got the alcohol in his system, and it's getting a little tiring. He opens their conversation back up, scrolls to that photo and lets himself stare. 

The shirt under the suit jacket gives Remus a fantastic view of Sirius's neck, half of a collarbone, that little dip at the base of his throat. His hair is perfectly messy, looking half like he's just woken up, except Remus knows what he looks like when he's just woken up. 

He wants to run his hands through that hair, to see how Sirius would react if he wrapped his fingers around it and pulled. He wants to run his tongue along the length of his neck, to suck at the skin in the hollow of his throat. His skin is so pale, the stark ink of his tattoos standing out so beautifully on it. Remus can only see just the edge of one that's on his chest. He doesn't know what it is, but he'd like to run his tongue over that too. 

He'd bruise so nicely. Remus could cover his skin in love bites, make it obvious that he's the one that Sirius goes home with. He could put to rest any worries that someone else might want to hit on him. He wants that. He wants Sirius all to himself. 

It's a terrifying thought - one he should not be having, not even entertaining. He shouldn't like Sirius like this. He's not allowed to like Sirius like this. Sirius is a job he likes doing a little too much. He's never liked a job before. 

Sirius is gorgeous - a heartthrob, really. Of course Remus would feel some attraction to him. He just has to remind himself that's all it is. He can like him physically, can allow himself these little moments of enjoying their flirting, of looking at him in the privacy of his bedroom. No one has to know - Sirius most certainly doesn't have to know. 

He can do this. He'll sign on for another six months, save up enough for uni, and let himself have this stupid crush. After he's put it behind him, he'll go out to a bar and pick up enough rebounds to forget what it feels like to kiss Sirius Black. He can forget how badly he wants him. Just not yet. 

Chapter 17: What A Great Show!

Marlene isn't home when Remus is getting ready for the concert. It's a blessing because she's not there to give him pointed looks and laugh at how long he spends on his hair in the bathroom. It's also horrible because she isn't there to fix his hair for him or tell him if he's wearing the right shoes. 

It's stupid - all of it. Remus has never cared how his hair looked or what shoes he wore or if they were the right ones - whatever that means. He tries on ten different shirts, leaves a mess on the sofa of discarded options, and is utterly at a loss when he looks in the mirror. How do people do this? How does Sirius do this? He gets dressed everyday knowing that there's a very high likelihood that he's going to be photographed and splayed on the front pages of tabloids and posted all over Twitter. How does he get up on stage in front of those tens of thousands of people and just fucking own it?

He puts on a black and grey knit sweater because it's still cold out and refuses to look in the mirror again. He's already got a text telling him there's a car waiting outside and he's never going to get out of the flat at this rate. 

It's trainers that he decides on in the end  because they're the closest to the door. He just needs to get the hell out of here so he can stop freaking himself out. He grabs the flowers he picked up earlier this morning and takes the stairs two at a time down to the car. 

Safe in the backseat behind heavily tinted windows, Remus lets out a breath. He has nothing to worry about. He's gotten too caught up in his own head over the past few weeks. He's completely blown things out of proportion because he's been alone. His and Sirius's fake flirting over text is nothing new - they've been doing it the whole time. It's standard. It's exactly what Remus should be used to. 

Still, when he'd landed yesterday and turned his phone back on and saw Sirius's name there waiting for him, his heart skipped a beat. 

He needs to calm down. It's a crush. He's not in love with Sirius. He just finds him nice to look at, nice to talk to. It's not Sirius's fault if he likes to flirt. Remus just needs to get himself together and stop reading into things that aren't there. 

The car pulls into a back alleyway, dark except for a single bulb over a backdoor with no handle. There's a chain link fence surrounding the place, butting right up against the sidewalk. Remus steps out onto it, straightening his jumper and making sure his flowers are still intact. 

He enters the code Lily texted him into the padlock on the fence gate and is halfway up the walk to the door when he hears someone call his name. 

"Remus! Is that really him? Oh my god!" 

He turns, confused, and sees two girls standing at the fence a ways down. One of them is wearing an oversized leather jacket that makes Remus immediately think of Sirius. They look absolutely beside themselves as Remus makes his way over. 

"Uh, hi," he greets. This is bizarre. Of course he'd known his name was out there, his face plastered next to Sirius's every chance Lily got to post them. He'd never really expected anyone to actually know him though. Or be excited to see him. 

"Hi! Oh my gosh, are those for Sirius? That's so sweet!" The girl in the leather jacket says, gesturing to Remus's bouquet. 

"Oh... Yeah, they are," he lies. 

"Are you going to see him right now? We couldn't get tickets, but someone said he was leaving through this door after the show, so we're hoping we'll see him." The other girl has blue hair and talks very quickly. Remus has to take a second to be sure he's understood her. 

"I'm not sure what door he's leaving through, but it might be this one," Remus says. He doesn't know if he's allowed to say anymore, and besides, he really doesn't know where Sirius is leaving from. "I'm sorry you couldn't get tickets." He has a wild fantasy of sneaking them in with him, of making their dreams come true. Lily would probably smack him upside the head for it. 

"Oh, s'alright," Leather Jacket says. 

"Yeah, we think we'll be able to go to the Glasgow show," Blue Hair adds. 

"Will you tell him we say hi and that we love him?" Leather Jacket asks, almost bouncing with excitement. 

"Sure, what's your names?" Remus is smiling at them now. He can see why Sirius likes this part of his status, of being able to make someone so happy just by being himself. 

"I'm Bobbie, and that's Syd," Blue Hair answers. 

"I'll let him know," Remus nods. "Have a good night." 

He turns back toward the door. He was already a little late with spending so long deciding on what shirt to wear, and he hopes Lily isn't too mad at him. 

A security guard lets him in. Inside it looks like a maze of white walls and linoleum floored hallways. He'd sort of expected a little more grandeur, but everything he knows about show business he's learned from movies. 

The guard points him to the left and Remus isn't even two steps down the hall before he's face to face with Lily, coming from one of the dozens of doors lining the walls. 

"Remus -" She starts to say, but Remus wraps his arms around her before she can finish. 

She laughs and tentatively pats his back. 

"What's all this about?" She asks. 

"You're the best boss ever and I'm a shit employee and I'm so sorry you have to put up with my bullshit," he says. Lily laughs again and Remus pulls away. "These are for you," he presents the flowers. 

She rolls her eyes but takes them anyway. They're a little crushed from the hug. "You're not a shit employee," Lily says. "You're just...challenging." 

"Well, thanks," Remus scoffs. 

"Besides, Sirius likes you too much for us to kick you to the curb," she says. 

Remus blushes, hating the heat that rises in his face and making his neck burn. He opens his mouth to say something, to play it off as a joke, but Lily links their arms and directs him back down the hallway.

"I need you in Sirius's dressing room right now," she begins. "The girl for the documentary is here and she wants a talking head with you and some b-roll." 

"Ok..." Remus knows b-roll, but is lost as to what the hell a talking head is. Do people just know these things when they decide to go into the entertainment business? Did he miss a pamphlet or something?

They stop at a door with Sirius's name taped onto it. Lily turns and fixes a bit of his hair and brushes off his shoulders. 

"Smile big for the camera," she says with an exaggerated grin. 

"You know I will," Remus answers, putting on his own cheesy smile. She laughs and pushes him through the door. 

The dressing room, at least, is a little closer to what Remus was imagining. The walls are painfully bare, but there's a comfortable looking sofa and a table with food and drinks to the side. There's a woman with a pixie cut fiddling with a camera set up on a tripod posed in front of the sofa. On the other side of the lens is Sirius. 

Remus knows by now how good he looks when he's on stage, but seeing him here, before he's even set foot in front of the crowd, looking utterly stunning, makes his feet stutter. Then, he flashes Remus that movie star smile and he suddenly feels for those girls outside and how desperate they were to see him in the flesh. Maybe in another world he's just one of those thousands of bodies out in the crowd, screaming his praise to someone who will never hear him. 

"Remus, darling," he greets. All those pet names... When did Remus's chest start to give a jump when he heard them? 

"Sorry, I got held up by some of your admirers outside," he explains. It's safe territory - safer than the fake flirting. 

"Did you now?" Sirius pats the spot next to him on the sofa and Remus doesn't feel like a dog being beckoned by an owner at all now. He takes the spot gladly, guiltily loving the way Sirius slings an arm around his shoulders. "This is Allie," he introduces. 

The woman behind the camera sticks out a hand. "You must be the boyfriend," she says as Remus shakes it awkwardly. "I'd love to just quickly get some footage of the two of you," she explains, already back behind her camera. "Just a few questions I can edit in here and there." 

"Yes, please declare your love for me and my music," Sirius says. Remus rolls his eyes. 

"Were you a fan, Remus? Before you met Sirius?" Allie asks, not looking up from the screen attached to the side of the camera. 

"Oh, uh, not really," Remus answers. Wow he's nervous. The camera, Sirius's proximity. He's nearly shaking. "I'd heard a few songs, but I didn't really know who he was until...until we started dating." That feels like a safe answer. He looks to Lily who gives him a nod from the doorway. They'd never really discussed how he and Sirius supposedly met and fell in love. 

"Don't worry, he's a huge fan now. He even has a shirt that says he loves me." Sirius nudges his shoulder, grinning widely at the inside joke that's not really an inside joke because the entirety of Twitter was there to witness it. 

"Oh, yeah, I wear it to bed every night," Remus says back. 

Allie cracks a smile, but she's right back to asking questions afterward. They talk about his and Sirius's relationship, what it's like when he leaves for tour for months at a time, how they deal with paparazzi. Remus makes it all up on the fly, with a little help from Sirius. He's pretty proud of their bullshitting. Lily leaves a few minutes in, so Remus can't look to her for confirmation anymore, but he figures he's doing alright if she feels good enough to leave him alone. 

By the end of it, they've been dating for eight months, Remus keeps himself busy when Sirius is away, and they both despise the paparazzi. The last two are true, at least. 

Sirius kisses him twice during the interview. They're quick pecks, one on his lips, one on the cheek, but they leave Remus burning. He hopes the redness in his cheeks can be excused as nerves from sitting in front of a camera. 

After the questions are done with, Allie directs them to walk down the hall for b-roll. That's a little less intimidating. She stays a few paces back and Sirius grabs Remus's hand, swinging it idly between them. 

"I get why you hate interviews now," Remus whispers to him. Sirius shoots him a smirk. 

"Run on three?" He whispers back. 

"What?" 

"One..." Sirius's smirk has turned to that wild grin that Remus has come to know so well. He feels his heart speed up, suddenly hyper-aware of how Sirius's long, callused fingers feel twined with his. "Two...three!" 

Sirius takes the lead, pulling Remus along  behind him. They break into an almost manicical chorus of laughter, the sound echoing in the empty halls. Remus is pulled to the left, down another, shorter hallway. He can hear Allie shouting something, but Sirius is laughing too loudly for him to make out what it is. He loves the sound of Sirius's laugh, almost musical in a barking, abrupt kind of way. 

"In here," Sirius directs, turning to a door marked Maintenance. 

It's a small room, metal shelves to one side stacked high with paper products and cleaning supplies. There's a mop bucket in one corner and a broken broom shoved behind it. Sirius stumbles into him in the small space, chests pressed together, panted breaths mixed in the air between them. 

Remus doesn't know why he does it, what part of his brain turned off in order for him to do something so absurd, and he feels stupid immediately after, but he kisses him. 

He catches himself a second in, pulling back quickly, stepping away, putting space between them because he obviously can't be trusted standing this close to Sirius. 

"Sorry,  I -" He cuts himself off, looking anywhere but Sirius. His face is burning again. Why is he like this? Why can't he do anything right? "Force of habit." It's a lame excuse but Remus can't think of anything better. 

"You know..." Remus braves a look at him. He's got that half smirk on his face. Remus wants to kiss it again. He internally scolds himself for the thought. "You are allowed to kiss me. I am your boyfriend." The dim light filtering through the frosted window in the door makes his eyes look like they're sparkling. "Method acting and all that." 

It's permission. It's permission and Remus knows he shouldn't take it. He knows that this is wrong, knows it's going to hurt. 

But he wants it. He wants Sirius so fucking badly. 

He steps forward and presses Sirius against the door, kissing him with a kind of fervor he didn't know he was capable of. He feels desperate, like he'll die if he doesn't do this right now. It feels like life or death, now or never. It very well could be. Remus wants everything he can get out of this slip up. He wants to fucking devour Sirius. 

Sirius opens his lips and for the first time Remus gets to taste the inside of his mouth. It sends a debilitating wave of heat over his entire body. He's holding Sirius by the face, a hand on each side of his jaw, keeping him in place. He's convinced it's the only thing keeping him grounded to reality right now, that if he lets go, if he allows even an inch of space between them, this will end. He doesn't want it to end. 

Sirius is holding onto his shoulders just as tight, nails digging through his jumper to his skin. Remus hopes it leaves a mark. He wants to keep this memory forever. He catches hold of his lower lip, biting harder than he probably would with anyone else.

 But this isn't anyone else. This is Sirius. And this is probably the best kiss Remus will ever experience in his life. So what if it's a little messy, a little aggressive. He doesn't want to think right now. In fact, the only thing his brain can focus on is how nice Sirius's tongue feels inside his mouth, how hot his body feels pinned beneath Remus's, the short, sharp breaths that escape between kisses. 

Remus almost hopes he's dreaming. If he's not, then he's not sure how he'll ever go without Sirius's lips. He's going to want to pin him against a wall everytime he sees him now. How is he supposed to experience something this good and then forget about it? How is he ever going to get over this? 

No. He's not thinking right now. He's kissing. And Sirius is kissing him back. It's fucking amazing. 

"Sirius Orion Black!"

Well, that's a mood killer. 

There's a sharp rapping on the door they're currently leaning against. Remus pulls back and meets Sirius's wide eyes. He notices how red and swollen his lips are and wonders if his look the same. How is he going to play this off to Lily?

"You get your arse out here right now, you bastard! You've got a meet and greet that started five minutes ago! I swear to god-"

"Alright! I'm coming!" Sirius shouts back at her. 

Remus shuffles back into the shadows of the room, behind the corner of the shelves. He watches Sirius slip out the door, barely opening it enough for just his body to fit through. He doesn't look back at Remus once. 

And - god - why does that hurt? He had known what this was. It shouldn't hurt. It does anyway. 

He can hear them walking back down the hall, Lily berating him for running off. He can picture Sirius rolling his eyes. Those fucking eyes. They should be plain, unremarkably grey, but Remus has seen how they reflected the light of the hall, how his pupils had blown into black pools. His eyes are not a part of him Remus is supposed to like. He's already allowed himself his body, his hair, his lips. He can't keep giving in like this. 

Remus isn't sure how long he stays in the maintenance closet, catching his breath, trying to fix his hair, hoping his face doesn't scream I just made out with Sirius Black in a broom cupboard! Nobody can know about this - especially not Lily, who will probably be watching him like a hawk for a while. He's just gotten one crisis under control and now he's gone put himself into another. He might have a problem - some kind of addiction to unpleasant situations that cause him sleepless nights and intense anxiety. Maybe he'll go see a therapist with his next check. 

When he emerges back out into the hall it's blissfully empty. Sirius and Lily are long gone and Remus can let go a little of the tension in his shoulders. 

He walks back the way he came, unsure of where else he could go. He finds Sirius's dressing room and is glad to see that it's empty now too. Allie's camera equipment is gone. Remus sinks into the sofa and buries his face in his hands, trying to get a grip on himself, on what he just did. 

There's a TV on one wall showing the empty stage, projecting only the sounds of the crowd gathered softly into the room. Remus turns it up for something to down out the unpleasant thoughts spiraling in his head. 

It's only a few minutes before someone walks on. It's a petite girl in a black skirt and a white tank-top that hangs off one shoulder. Remus can see her red bra through it. She swings a guitar around her neck and the man to her left mirrors her. Another takes his place behind the drum kit and a heavy, screaming song begins. 

Remus can lose himself in it. He can feel the vibrations from the speakers all the way in the dressing room. He's hypnotized by the way the girl croons into the microphone, how she plays her guitar like it's an extension of her fingers. He finds his foot tapping to the beat when the cameras show off the drummer, nodding his head along with each hit to the snare, long sweaty hair sticking to his forehead. Remus likes this kind of chaotic energy. He likes that no one is looking too hard at each other, that they're too busy listening. 

Three songs in and the door to the dressing room swings open. 

"Oh my god, there you are!" Lily says. "C'mon, we have the best seats in the house." 

Remus follows her down a hallway, through a door and into the wings of the stage. She leads him up a narrow staircase to balcony seating. It's high enough that the whole stage is in view, but close enough that he can still see beads of sweat on the girl's forehead. 

James is there, handing Remus a plastic cup of foamy beer. It's about a dozen of them, all leaning over the railing, their seating forgotten behind them. Remus finds a place between James and another man he doesn't recognize. 

Remus drinks his beer and tries to throw himself into the energy of the people around him. Everybody's dancing, banging their heads to the beat, sipping overpriced drinks, some of them are singing along. Remus doesn't know any of the songs, he doesn't even know the name of the band on stage, but he dances anyway. He downs his beer and starts to forget himself, forget what happened, forget that he's being paid to be here. 

That is until the lights go down and the equipment is swapped out. The speakers are playing a mix of seventies and eighties rock and indie that Remus knows from Marlene's playlists. He's buzzing with nerves for no good reason - he's not the one about to go out on stage - and the excitement in the crowd is palpable. It's suffocating, nearly unbearable. Remus thinks about making a run for it, feigning an illness or family emergency. 

The lights come back up before he can make a decision. There, silhouetted in the backlighting, wild hair still evident, is Sirius. He raises one hand to the screams of the audience, swings the guitar from his back to his front. He plays one single chord and the crowd loses it. 

He's basking in making them all wait for it, Remus realizes. He's soaking up the attention, the screams, the applause. Remus finds himself just as transfixed as the rest of them.

Finally, the lights illuminate his face and he starts to play. Remus knows the song, one of the singles from his newest album. He'd listened to it that night at his parents' house. He's back there suddenly, drunk and wondering what amount of flirting crosses the line, hoping that Sirius won't bring someone home from the party. 

He's crossed that line now. He can't ever let himself slip like that again. 

Sirius is captivating on stage. Remus had thought he'd gotten a good idea of what his shows were like from the videos he'd watched, but he couldn't have been more wrong. Seeing him there, in the flesh, so close that Remus swears he can see each mole on his face, is overwhelming. He looks like he was born to be on stage, to command thousands with his voice. Remus is pretty sure he'd listen if Sirius were to ask him to do something right now, no matter how insane. What a dangerous thought that is. 

"He's amazing, right?" James asks in his ear. He smells of the beer they've been drinking and Remus suddenly wishes he were drunk right then. At least then he could blame the absolutely bizarre way he's been acting all night on it.

 "He is," Remus nods back, never taking his eyes off the stage. 

It's nearing the end of his set and Remus is dreading it. He doesn't want this to be over. He wants to keep staring at Sirius, admiring the way his body moves, the way the light hits each inch of him, how his voice sounds amplified a thousand times over. He can understand now how people come down with debilitating, embarrassing celebrity crushes. 

"I've got one more song for you!" Sirius is telling the crowd. 

Remus finds himself stepping back from the barrier he's been leaning against for the past hour. His body is acting separately from his brain. All he knows is that Sirius will be off stage soon, he'll be back in that labyrinth of hallways in just a few minutes. Remus is going to be there. 

He's already crossed the line once, he can stay on this side of it. He'll draw a new line. He can kiss Sirius. They are supposedly dating. What had he called it? Method acting? 

Yes, method acting. They could snog. It doesn't have to mean anything. They've done it before and nothing changed. Sirius is hot and Remus likes the way he kisses. If, for some insane reason, Sirius wants to kiss him back, who is he to stop him?

"I'm gonna find a bathroom," he says to no one in particular. Someone gives his shoulder a pat. It spurs him on down the steps and back the way he came. 

He flashes his badge to the security guard and is let back into the cavern of equipment. There's roadies and people in shirts labeled Staff milling around. Remus is frozen for a moment, rethinking his decision. 

This is stupid right? Completely self-destructive. He should go back and watch the rest of the show and slip out without saying goodbye. He should go right back to the teasingly flirty texts between him and Sirius and be happy with it. What is he expecting anyway? An explanation? 

He doesn't really want an explanation. He doesn't want to talk, he doesn't want to think. He just really wants to get his hands on Sirius again. 

The final notes of the song are ringing through the speakers. Remus starts walking, weaving through the staff and stepping over cords. He can see the alcove that leads to the stage. He pauses and stares at it, unsure if he wants Sirius to appear or not. He might go a different way, come off the stage from the other side, he might -

No. He's there. His hair seems to have gotten bigger from the humidity of the stage. Remus has a vision of the hair bands from the eighties. He's always loved Motley Crue. 

Sirius takes a towel from someone and mops his forehead. He glances around the room and Remus can see that he's breathing hard. Sweat shines on his bare arms. 

When his eyes land on Remus, his stomach does a violent flip. This is a terrible idea. 

But then Sirius is walking toward him, dropping his towel with a fiery look in his eyes. Remus's heart is pounding. 

It looks like he's going to walk right past him, but at the last second he seizes Remus's wrist and pulls him along. They duck out of the main room and into an empty hall. There's a vending machine at the end, the hum of it the only sound aside from the muted shouting from the crowd. 

Sirius presses him against the wall right there, not giving Remus anytime to react before he grabs his face and kisses him hard. It's the same kind of desperate, hungry kissing they did before. There is no tenderness, only bruising fingers pressing into skin and the scrape of teeth against lips. Remus fucking loves it. 

He pulls Sirius against him, feeling the slight bulge in his jeans. Heat that isn't from Sirius's sweaty body rushes over him. He's never wanted somebody this badly before. He wants Sirius alone and naked right now. 

His hands wander, over Sirius's sides, his hips, up under his shirt to the small of his back where sweat still pools. He digs his fingers in, shifting his hips in an attempt to gain any sort of friction. Sirius's breath hitches and Remus is pretty sure it's the hottest thing he's ever heard. 

He drops his hands down to his ass and squeezes the flesh there. And - fuck - Sirius has a great ass. Remus rocks their bodies together again. A fire lights inside of him at the feeling. Sirius is busy licking into his mouth like he wants to swallow him whole. Remus understands the feeling. He wants to consume Sirius right now. He wants to kiss him, touch him, keep dragging those soft sounds out of him until they both forget their own names. 

When Sirius pulls back for air, Remus drops his head to his neck. He drags his teeth a little harder than he probably should, but the sound that Sirius lets out makes it hard to stop. He reaches the crook of his neck, his collarbone. He remembers how he'd wanted to bite it on New Year's. He takes his chance. 

"Oh, god," Sirius gasps. Remus licks over the reddened skin. 

Somewhere in his brain that isn't completely fogged over with his desperation for Sirius, he knows he shouldn't leave a mark. It takes a great deal of effort to move on before he does. Sirius is just so pale, his skin would carry the color of Remus's bruise so beautifully. Those thousands of people out there would see it and know that he belongs to Remus. They would know what he does when he's not on stage, what Remus does to him.

But, Lily and James and Marlene and everyone else would also see it. Remus at least knows that it would be harder to explain it away to them.

He moves back to Sirius's mouth again before he runs out of willpower. But, he only gets a few seconds before Sirius is stepping back and touching his ear. 

"Fuck," he breathes, staring at the ground. He moves his hand away and meets Remus's eye. "I've gotta go back out - two more songs," he says quickly. He's breathing hard. Remus realizes that he is too. "Go wait in my dressing room."

It's not a question. It's a command. Remus obeys just like he knew he would when he was watching Sirius from up in the balcony. He nods numbly, watching Sirius try to straighten out his clothes. 

He leaves without another word and Remus is left to try to catch his breath once again. He heads down the winding halls back to the dressing room, trying not to think. 

With slightly unstable legs, Remus drops onto the sofa in the room. He's painfully hard and willing himself to calm down. The TV is still showing the concert. Remus can feel his pulse in his fingers. 

Sirius saunters back out onto the stage to the roar of the audience. He launches into a crowd pleaser that makes the room scream. And Remus swears that he's dancing like that for his benefit. He watches with his mouth half-open as Sirius slides a hand from  his chest to the bottom of his stomach, leaning into it, rocking his hips like the fucking tease he's turning out to be. 

He tilts his head, winks at the audience. His hair falls to one side, showing off the pale, fragile skin of his neck. It's a little red, a flush from the heat of the arena to anyone else, but Remus can still taste the salt on his tongue. 

It's true, honest torture sitting there watching him move. Sirius owns the place, owns every set of eyes watching him, and he fucking knows it. He owns Remus too. 

Finally - finally - Sirius is saying thank you and goodnight. He disappears from the stage and the screen turns off automatically. Remus is bathed in silence, holding his breath, staring at the door. He hopes Sirius doesn't have to speak to anyone. He hopes he's beelining it straight to this room, straight back to Remus's mouth. He certainly would be if the roles were reversed. 

The door opens and Remus barely lets him take a single step into the room before he's on him. He can't wait any longer. Ten minutes was already too much. 

Sirius willingly opens his mouth, lets himself be pushed against the door, engulfed by Remus's body. For his part, Remus gets his hands up under his shirt, fingers greedily touching every inch of him they can reach. He presses a palm to his back, the other to his hip. He pulls Sirius closer until the feeling of him, his whole body, against Remus is almost unbearable. 

There's too many layers, too many clothes, Remus can't get enough air. He can't get enough of Sirius either. Maybe that's why he doesn't resist when Sirius swaps their positions and starts to go to town on his neck. He's putty. 

His brain is so foggy, trying to keep up with what's happening, that it takes a moment to register that Sirius is sinking to his knees. His hands are on the button of Remus's jeans before he can speak. 

"What are you -" 

He cuts himself off, looking straight into mischievous grey eyes, a deadly smirk. 

"Method acting."

And then Remus's jeans are around his thighs and Sirius is trailing his lips over his hips and digging his fingers into the backs of his legs. He thinks they might give out, he might just collapse right here on this linoleum flooring and the paramedics will have to wheel him out on a gurney with his prick still out for all to see. 

It's like an out of body experience, looking down to see Sirius Black taking him in his hand, his mouth falling open, his tongue sticking out over his lower lip. That first drag nearly sends him over the edge. 

Remus steels himself and watches Sirius take the tip of his cock into his mouth. He's on fire. His whole body is on fire. They'll be sweeping up his ashes for weeks. 

Sirius doesn't seem to notice. Or maybe he does and that's why he's sucking Remus down as far as he can and looking up at him through thick black eyelashes like a picture of fucking innocence. Remus can feel it when he hits the back of his throat. It's an unbelievable heat, Sirius's cheeks hollowed around him like he's trying to suck Remus's life out through his dick. 

It wouldn't be a bad way to go. 

And - god - he starts to press his tongue up against him and it's the best thing Remus has ever had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of. If he thought Sirius's mouth was talented before, it's a fucking prodigy now. 

Remus balls his hands into fists, gritting his teeth as he tries not to cry out. Sirius just keeps on going, taking Remus as deep as he can, breathing hard through his nose. His eyes are watering and a tear slips out and onto his cheek. Remus smacks his head back against the door and bites his tongue. 

He reaches forward and grabs a fistful of Sirius's wild curls, still damp at the roots from sweat. Remus can see the way they fell over his face, stuck to his forehead on stage behind his closed eyes. Sirius groans around him and it sends a jolt of electricity through Remus's body. He pulls a little tighter. 

There's a single sharp knock right behind Remus's shoulder.

"Car's here, Black!" 

It's James. 

Remus watches completely frozen in panic as Sirius pulls off of him. There's a line of spit coming off his lip. Is it really so much to ask that people leave them alone for ten fucking minutes. 

"Five minutes!" He calls back. His voice sounds wrecked. Maybe it's from the hour and a half set he just played. Maybe it's because Remus's dick was just down his throat. 

Remus looks down at Sirius who flashes him a grin before he takes Remus back into his mouth. He reaches one hand up to press against Remus's still buried in his hair. Oh god... Does he...?

Remus pushes just a little and Sirius hums in response. Jesus Christ. Remus must've done something really great in a past life. 

He fucks into Sirius's mouth and feels his stomach filling with heat. It sends tremors through his limbs. He's simultaneously wound tight and made of jelly. 

Embarrassingly, all it takes is Sirius looking up at him with those fiery grey eyes and another soft sound that vibrates through him before he's coming. He only just manages to pull Sirius back by his hair. 

Remus squeezes his eyes shut, clenching his jaw in an attempt to stay quiet. It courses through his whole body. Remus is sure he's never come this hard before. It's a good thirty seconds before he can even get his fingers to release Sirius's hair and let him up. 

He rests his head against the wall, his chest heaving. He watches Sirius get to his feet and wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. He grins that same pleased way he had before. Remus thinks he might black out. 

He stays there in a daze as Sirius starts to gather things from around the room and shove them into his pockets. When he finally thinks he can get his hands to work, he pulls his jeans back up. 

Sirius pauses before him, running a hand through his hair. Remus forces his legs to step away from the door. Sirius wipes his mouth again. 

"See you later, sweetheart," he says. 

He leaves still very much looking like he just gave someone the best blowjob of his life. Or maybe Remus is biased. 

Chapter 18: Paris Is Not The City Of Love

Everything is fine. It's all so completely, totally, absolutely fine. Remus is fine. He is. 

He returns home to find Marlene already asleep. He changes out of his sweater and jeans and lays down and tries to close his eyes. He does not think about Sirius. 

Except, he sees a replay of their evening on the backs of his eyelids. He sees Sirius sink to his knees, sees the way tears brimmed in those grey eyes, feels his hands against his hips. 

He gets maybe an hour of sleep before he gives up. 

When Marlene emerges from her room the next morning, bleary eyed and trying to untangle her bed-ridden hair, Remus is flipping pancakes. 

"Hey, how'd the concert go?" She yawns, pouring herself a generous mug of coffee. 

"Fine. Great. Why?" He's jumpy. He cringes inwardly at himself. 

Marlene raises an eyebrow. "Ok..." 

Remus goes back to his pancakes. He burns half of them. 

 

He becomes desperate to put the whole thing out of his mind. He starts volunteering at the shelter with Marlene five days a week. He researches uni classes and starts to work on re-enrolling. He buys stacks and stacks of books to read until they're piled on the floor of the living room and Marlene starts to complain about tripping on them. He buys a bookshelf. 

It's working, sort of. He can bury his nose in a book, or focus on getting the last bit of mud out of Lucky's fur, or write up an unnecessarily packed schedule for when he starts classes. He perfects his pancake recipe and let's Marlene give him a lesson on how to do his hair. 

He's fine. 

Until his phone inevitably pings with a message from Sirius. 

Sirius: photos of you with puppies is making me want a dog.

Sirius: you HAVE to stop wearing those jeans out in public. they make your ass look too good.

Sirius: my love, the media is claiming we've broken up. can we go take maternity pictures now to shut them up?

It's exactly as it has been, but there's an underlying current that makes Remus's stomach flutter when he sees his name on his phone. There's the fact that Sirius Black has given him a blowjob and says his ass looks good in those jeans. It's an embarassing, shameful kind of feeling. 

He knows he shouldn't. He shouldn't want Sirius like this. He's crossed too many lines. He needs to be focusing on himself, not how good Sirius looks in that photo he posted of himself on a balcony somewhere sunny and without a shirt on. He needs to be thinking about uni and moving out of this flat and calling his mum more. 

But Sirius looks so goddamn good in that photo he posted. Remus can taste his skin, can remember how good it felt to be pinned under his body, how much he wants it again. Yes, he's crossed a line. He knows he can't go back. He should forget it. He can't.

So, he rationalizes. It's a matter of convenience. He and Sirius are supposed to be together - in love, fucking on the regular. It would be damn near impossible for them to bring anyone else home without someone finding out. What's wrong with them meeting their needs with each other? It doesn't have to go anywhere beyond that. They can fool around in dressing rooms and empty hallways until Remus's contract is up, then they'll go their separate ways and Sirius will be nothing more than a fun story to tell at parties. He'll go to uni and meet someone else and have mind blowing sex and forget that once upon a time, he let Sirius Black get into his pants. 

Then there's Paris. 

They haven't been seen together in over a month, and even then it was just a single Instagram post and some grainy fan photos of Remus up in the balcony during the concert. So, Lily is sending him to Paris. 

Sirius is there for a week, playing two shows each weekend and staying in a suite at a historical hotel. Remus looks up pictures online and imagines getting Sirius into a bed with a heavy and embroidered duvet. 

 

He's flying first class - courtesy of wherever the hell he's getting his paychecks from. He gets the full itinerary from Lily:

Land in Paris around four. A driver will take him to the hotel. From there, he'll have about a half hour to get changed and meet Sirius in the lobby to go to dinner. 

In just two hours he'll see Sirius again. It sends his hands shaking and stomach rolling with nerves. 

Is Sirius just going to grab him and kiss him again? They haven't even spoken about what's happened. Maybe it's better that way. If their scandalous behavior is kept behind closed doors and only closed doors, Remus thinks he can deal with it. He can compartmentalize. He'll have to get better at doing that, given all he can think about right now is how nice it felt to be shoved up against a wall and kissed within an inch of his life. 

He gladly accepts a cocktail offered to him by a stewardess. The seats in first class are much more cushioned, they recline almost all the way, and for some reason he's been given a hot towel. He's not entirely sure what to do with it, so it sits on the tray next to his seat. 

His drink is strong, which makes him feel better. His head goes a little fuzzy with it, and he turns on a movie to pass the time. 

 

Remus is sure he's fallen into an alternate reality when he steps into the arrivals terminal. A man in a suit is holding a sign with his name on it like they're in a bloody movie. He takes Remus's carry-on and ushers him into a car with tinted windows. Remus has started to get used to cars like these, the buttery velvet seats and the screen between him and the driver. 

Paris is gorgeous, of course. Remus has never been, and he hopes that he'll get a chance to wander the streets before he's flown back home next weekend. Lily didn't give him an itinerary for the five days between Sirius's shows. All he knows is that he's expected to be at them, smiling for the cameras and absolutely not punching any paparazzi that get too close. 

The hotel is towering with ornate details carved into the stone facade. The lobby is tiled and charming, with a winding staircase that's essentially pointless next to the stainless steel elevator. Remus still thinks it's a nice touch. 

His room is not the historical homage that he'd been imagining. It's got wallpaper and vintage fixtures in the bathroom, but the sheets are white and crisp, and the furniture is a bizarre mix of traditional and modern. He goes to the open-air windows and looks down at the street. It's not nearly as busy as he'd thought it would be. The area of the city seems to be reserved for peaceful getaways, free from tourists and bicycles with high pitched bells. 

Lily gave him a dress code for the restaurant that they're going to tonight. So, of course, Marlene dragged him to a place to get the perfect outfit. He doesn't really feel like himself in a tuxedo jacket and tie, but Marlene had insisted that he looked "hot enough to fuck". Remus tries not to think about how Sirius might take that. 

Sirius isn't in the lobby when Remus returns. He finds the car parked outside and the same driver is quick to open the door for him. 

He's there, in his usual seat, and Remus's heart skips a beat. He's got a suit jacket on, but his shirt is patterned with green and white. He's wearing green boots too, Remus realizes. He wonders who in the hell dresses him for these kinds of things. 

"Hey," Remus says and he takes his seat. Sirius is bent over his phone, though, and doesn't even look up. In fact, he doesn't answer at all. 

Remus sits in awkward silence, picking at his cuticles as the car starts to move. Halfway through the drive, Sirius takes a call. He talks slowly, with a measured voice, but he's obviously pissed about something. He doesn't hang up until they're at the restaurant and forced to get out of the car so they don't miss their reservation. 

Great, Remus thinks. Sirius is in a bad mood again. It's just like their first "date". He hopes that it doesn't end with bitter comments and scathing glares like that day almost did. He keeps quiet, just in case, and lets Sirius take the lead. 

"Mr. Black, right this way," a girl with a french accent says before Sirius can even open his mouth. 

Their table is by a window, as secluded as it can get in a place that's so busy with people. Remus can hear that the table next to them is fawning over caviar.  

Sirius takes off his coat and drapes it over the back of his chair in a sign of rebellion. 

"How was your flight?" He asks as he sits. His voice is monotone, though, and Remus feels like he's walking on eggshells as he answers. 

"It was fine," he says. Short and clipped. Why can't he ever be the bigger person? Why does he have to let Sirius's foul mood flare up in him? He can feel the annoyance on the tip of his tongue. His mouth has always gotten him into trouble. 

A waiter brings them wine - incredibly expensive and fancy, from the way he describes it. Sirius does not look interested so Remus makes a point to nod and smile at him, mostly in hopes that he'll go away soon. He orders the chef's choice because he isn't sure how to pronounce anything on the menu. Sirius says, in a very bored tone, that he'll have the same. 

When they're finally alone again, Remus hopes that maybe Sirius will say something, break the tension, but he only pulls his phone back out and resumes his angry typing. Remus takes his out too, just for something to do with his hands. He has a feeling that any paparazzi photos from this outing will not sell well. Lily will probably be pissed with him, but Remus is too annoyed with Sirius to try to do anything about it right now. 

Their first course is served - faster service than Remus has ever received in a restaurant. Sirius finally puts his phone away and picks at his food. 

"Alright, out with it," Remus says when he can't take the silence anymore. "What's got you all pissy?" 

Sirius looks at him with blazing eyes, his mouth pressed into a line. Remus is sure he's made a mistake. 

But then, Sirius says, "It's nothing. I'm fine. Sorry."

It's not a real apology. Sirius is still stiff with tension about something and Remus knows it. A real boyfriend might press, might take his hands from across the table and have a little more sympathy, but Remus is still ticked off. How the hell is he supposed to do his job and keep Lily happy when Sirius is sitting there like a wet blanket? No wonder he got the job so easily, Sirius is a real pain in the ass sometimes. 

"Fine, suit yourself," Remus says. He gathers a spoonful of whatever soup he's been served. 

"What? So now you're mad at me too?" Sirius is still glaring at him from the other side of the table. Steam from their bowls rises between them. Remus thinks it's a great visual with the anger that's boiling inside of him right now. 

"Well, darling," Remus starts, with an obvious bite to his words. "It's a bit unfortunate that everytime we go out for a meal you sit there like you'd rather be anywhere else." 

Need I remind you that I'm getting fucking paid to make you look good and you're making this the hardest job I've ever had, he wants to say. 

"Like you fucking care," Sirius says through a clenched jaw. 

Remus hates the glee he gets out of the fire in his eyes. "Just trying to pay my bills," he hums back. He takes another spoonful of soup. Too bad this dinner is going so horribly, the food really is incredible. 

"So am I, dickhead." 

Remus has to roll his eyes. What kind of bills could someone like Sirius fucking Black have to pay? Another sports car? A third vacation house? Remus is fed up with Sirius pretending like they're at all similar. He's fed up with the brief moments where it almost seems like he might care about Remus. 

It's infuriating. All of it. 

"I'm sure your life is just terrible," Remus says. "Going round in fancy cars, eating at five star restaurants, staying in posh hotels. Sounds awful." 

"Try being followed around by a camera twenty-four seven," Sirius spits back. 

Remus knows he's talking about more than the documentary being filmed about his tour. He's probably lumping any paparazzi or fan that's ever pointed at camera at him. He's probably lumping Remus in there too. Remus's only job is to make sure Sirius gets photographed. That kind of stings.

"You signed up for the fucking documentary," he says anyway, his voice raising. The people at the tables around them have started to stare. Remus can't be bothered to care, he's not in the mood to give sympathy, to give Sirius even an inch of forgiveness. 

"Oh my god," Sirius shakes his head. "You sit there like you know bloody everything. Like you know exactly what my life is like. You're such a fucking asshole." 

People are really staring now. Remus thinks he sees a phone pointed inconspicuously at them from under a table. Of course people want to record this. The irony is almost too sweet.

"Jesus christ," Remus is balling his hands into fists to keep from outright screaming at him. "Are you off your meds or something?"

It's a low blow. He regrets it as soon as he's said it. He'd almost forgotten about what Lily had told him the morning after Sirius's mother died. He's got problems with mood swings and stuff. He's on medication, but sometimes it isn't enough. 

His mouth is always getting him in trouble. 

He starts to say something - apologize, maybe, because he knows he's gone too far - but Sirius is already standing, his chair clattering behind him. He sticks Remus with a look that is utterly terrifying and heartbreaking at the same time. 

Sirius is right. He's such a fucking asshole. 

Remus watches him storm out of the restaurant. He sits there, staring at the empty chair across from him, frozen with the weight of what he's just done. 

He looks up at the table behind the empty chair and meets the eyes of a middle aged woman with her mouth hanging open. He looks away. 

Sirius left his coat. Remus doesn't know why, but the sight of it is like a punch to the gut. 

He gathers it up, and his own, draping them over his arm, and follows Sirius's path out to the street. When he gets there, he sees a black car with tinted windows already halfway down the road. 

 

Remus hails a cab. He tells the driver the name of the hotel with terrible pronunciation and tries to calm himself down in the backseat. He feels like screaming. Or crying. He's not sure which would feel better. He wants to get out of the car and run into traffic. He wants to grab Sirius by the shirt collar and yell at him some more. And say he's sorry. 

He takes the elevator up, holding both coats to his chest. He catches a whiff of Sirius's cologne and it starts up an ache in his chest that is almost unbearable.  

In front of his room, he pauses. He stares at the number tacked onto it. He knows Sirius is staying right down the hall, the next door over. He looks down at that door and stares for a while too. 

He could leave Sirius's coat outside his room. He could go into his own and drown his sorrows in the mini bar. 

He sighs and walks down the hall instead.

Remus knocks once. There's music playing in the room, very faintly so that he almost has to press his ear to the wood to hear it. He knocks again. The music gets louder. 

"Sirius?" He calls, as loud as he dares. He's not sure if he actually wants him to open the door or  not. He's not entirely sure of what he would say. Whatever he comes up with probably won't be enough. "I'm sorry," he says anyway. There's hardly a chance that Sirius can hear it with how quiet it comes out. He can't even apologize loud enough. 

He looks back down the hall, thinks about leaving the coat, but something in him is keeping him rooted to the spot. That night when Sirius had greeted him with something akin to hysteria behind his eyes and a bottle of vodka Remus had been halfway terrified of what he would do. Now, even if Sirius won't let him in, he's unwilling to leave him alone. 

With a sigh, Remus sits down, right there in the hallway, leaning against the wall. The coats rest over his knees, a poor excuse for a blanket when he's got a luxury bed waiting for him a few feet away. 

 

"What the hell?" 

Remus blinks. It's bright in the hall now. Morning. 

"Did you sleep here?" 

He looks up. Sirius is standing in the door to his room, sunglasses on. He doesn't know what to make of the frown pulling on his lips. 

He pushes himself up off the floor. 

"You, uh, left this last night," he says dumbly. He holds out the coat. 

Sirius takes it, careful not to let their hands touch. Remus watches him step halfway back into his room and toss it somewhere. When he comes back out, he lets the door close and starts to walk right by Remus without a word. 

Remus watches him, frozen once more. He's always had a loud mouth, always something to say, but he's at a loss right now. 

"Sirius?" 

He watches him pause, a falter in his step, the way his shoulders go rigid. 

"I'm sorry." 

Sirius keeps walking. 

Remus debates catching up with him, trapping him in the elevator and demanding they work this out. But part of him knows he's done too much damage. He might've ruined it for good now. 

He goes back to his room instead and sends Lily a text saying he's had a family emergency and repacks his bag. 

Chapter 19: And The Award Goes To...

Sirius gives absolutely nothing. Remus sends message after message until he realizes that they're not even being opened anymore. He responds to Sirius's tweets just so that he'll have to acknowledge him, comments on every Instagram post. Nothing. Sirius gives him nothing. 

Remus's methods of burying his feelings in work are slowly failing. After a week, he can't fall asleep without a healthy dose of melatonin. After two, he starts seeing Sirius's face in every man with dark, curly hair. After three, Marlene won't take I'm fine as an answer anymore. 

Remus lets it all spill out. Well, most of it. 

"It was really bad, Marls," he says. He wants to cry but the idea of it is so humiliating that he chews the inside of his cheek raw instead. "I said something really awful to him."

"Oh, Rem," she sighs, rubbing his back. "It'll be ok. He has to know you're sorry by now." 

Remus nods. He's said it, texted it, enough times. It still doesn't feel like enough. The stakes are higher now than they were that first time they dug their claws into each other. Now they're closer to friends than business associates. Now Remus has seen the want in Sirius's eyes, seen him give in. Remus was ready to give in, still is, but he doesn't think he'll get the chance. 

"I hope so," he manages. Marlene frowns at him, sympathetic and pitying. 

"Well, when do you see him next? He can't avoid you when you're supposed to be pretending to be in love for the cameras."

"This weekend." 

Lily was upset about not getting any good photos from the Paris trip, just a few posts on Twitter from fans who happened to see them during their short time out for dinner. She was more worried about Remus's "family emergency", which just makes him feel even worse. Since then, Sirius and his own Instagram feed has been sporadic posts from her backlog of photos. Remus even finds one of the two of them at the coffee shop, that day they first kissed and Remus started slipping. Sirius comments a generic heart emoji - more likely Lily's doing than his own. It's damn near devastating. 

"It's going to work out, I know it," Marlene tells him again. Remus really wishes he could believe her. 

 

The weekend comes too slowly and too quickly all at once. Remus is on the verge of throwing up by the time he gets into the car. Lily isn't there, she isn't coming tonight. Dorcas might make an appearance, but Remus is on his own for this one. It's daunting. It's exactly what he needs to try to make everything alright again.  

He won't be walking the carpet with Sirius. He would be dreadful in front of all those cameras, trying to pretend he knows how to pose. Lily let him off easy and told him to use the other entrance. The sidewalks are crowded with people anyway, vying for even a glimpse of the hundreds of celebrities that will be here tonight. Remus spots a couple actors he recognizes and feels the weight of how out of his depth he is here. What the hell is he even doing here? 

What on earth, all those months ago, possessed him to believe that he could do this and be fine with it all? What on earth allowed him to believe that he could kiss Sirius Black, really kiss him, and not lose his ever loving mind? 

He steps out of the car, wearing the same suit from Paris. It's the only black-tie conforming thing he owns. Someone calls his name but he doesn't turn to see who. He's laser focused on getting inside, on getting to the table where Sirius will be soon. He's bubbling over with anxiety and desperate. He wants to prove himself, show Sirius that he isn't a complete asshole, as much as he acts like one. Maybe he is a bad person, deep down, but he doesn't want to be a bad person to Sirius. 

"Remus Lupin," he says to the first usher he finds. 

"Table fifteen," they answer. 

Back on a mission again. He weaves through crowds, other people looking for their seats. He literally brushes elbows with the rich and famous. 

The placard on the table reads his name in elaborate cursive. Next to it, Sirius Black. Remus sits heavily, sharing polite smiles with the others at the table. One of them is an up-and-coming indie artist that he knows Marlene would absolutely fawn over. There's the girl with the huge voice that opened for Sirius in London.  Remus exchanges a few words with her, it's both of their first award shows. She's beyond nervous about the close-up she's bound to get when the nominations for Best New Artist are read out. Remus assures her that she looks great. 

Remus pulls out his phone to scroll Twitter. He finds a page that's posting live updates of who is walking the carpet. He refreshes, refreshes. 

Then, a clip of Sirius looking very elegant, very brooding in a tailored maroon suit. He's absolutely stunning, as always, and Remus's breath still catches in his throat. He knows that Sirius finds suits constricting, boring, but damn does he look good in them.

The thing is, Remus would be alright if he never got to kiss Sirius again. He would be ok if he never got to have Sirius like he did in January. He could live with it, with suppressing his overwhelming need to touch him. If only Sirius would look at him again. He just wants that stupid perfect smile directed at him one more time, wants to earn that barking laugh. 

He knows he doesn't deserve it, but he would do fucking anything to get it back. 

Twenty minutes pass. Someone brings Remus a glass of champagne that he can't stomach. He watches the Twitter page obsessively, itching for another glance of Sirius. He knows he won't stop for interviews, just speed right on past the people holding microphones, especially when he's got that dark look in his eye that Remus knows far too well. It's agony to wait for him, wondering if it might be better if he never does show up. 

Finally, the girl says, "Sirius!" 

Remus watches her stick out both hands, reaching for him. He watches two pale ones clasp them, freshly painted black fingernails, a clattering collection of silver rings, the edges of two deep red sleeves. Remus's heart is in his throat and his stomach is somewhere near his ankles. 

"Hey, Em."

Sweet, and gravelly. Remus wants to turn to look at him, but his neck is suddenly frozen to his shoulders. His hands are clutching his phone, still hidden in his lap. The chair next to him shifts and Remus swallows. 

Sirius does not look at him. He engages in conversation with Em and the other people at the table. When a glass of champagne arrives, he heartily thanks the deliverer. Remus tries not to watch him swallow around his first sip. 

It's aggravating, being frozen out, but Remus is out of anger. He doesn't want to be angry at Sirius. It's utterly exhausting and has proven to get him nowhere. Instead, he settles somewhere between frustrated and crushed. 

The lights go down and the first round of awards are given out to tearful and grateful men and women in sparkly outfits. Sirius is up for a handful, best alternative album, best alternative single, best rock vocals. Remus has no doubt that he'll be up on the stage at least once tonight. 

The show cuts to commercial and Remus watches a man with a microphone being trailed by a camera a few tables over. Interviewers, you can never escape them. 

Which is why he really shouldn't be surprised when their table is the next one approached. The man zeroes in on Sirius. 

"Sirius Black," he says jovially. Sirius's smile is tight and forced. "Up for five awards tonight, how do you feel?" 

"Really honored. I'm happy to be here," he answers, short and sweet. Remus wants to reach for him, offer support. Sirius had allowed him to do that before, when the cameras were blinding them both and he needed a push to get going. His hand fidgets against his leg, itching to find Sirius's. 

"And, is this your plus-one?" The interviewer waggles his eyebrows. 

Oh. The camera is on Remus now. He'd thought he'd get out scot free from this one. 

"Sure is," Sirius says. He reaches over and puts an arm around the back of Remus's chair. It's almost what he wants. Almost. 

"Here to cheer him on tonight?" 

The microphone is in his face. Remus tries to find his voice. "Yep." He hopes his smile doesn't look as nervous as he feels. 

"Tell me," the interviewer continues, "what's your favorite track off the new album? I've been listening to it nonstop." 

Remus falters. He hadn't been expecting a further question. He can feel Sirius's eyes on him. He's sure he's bright red. He swallows around his nerves. "Probably Deep End," he says. It's the song he heard when he was falling asleep that first night as his parents' house. 

"Oh yeah, that's one of my favorites," the interviewer says. 

Remus risks a glance over at Sirius, finds something like surprise written on his face. 

The interviewer becomes distracted with the other patrons at the table and Remus can breathe a sigh of relief. 

Sirius leans in, making him tense all over again. "So you actually are a fan," he says. 

He's teasing, and Remus is so fucking glad for it. "I did my research." 

Sirius chuckles, his chair edging closer. 

The lights go down again and Sirius is still in his space. He's watching the stage just like everyone else in the room, but Remus is unable to focus on the two comedians giving their introduction to the next category. He hears Sirius laugh at some joke they're making. The sound sparks a warmth in his chest. It feels so good to hear him laugh. 

The comedians announce that Sirius has won, obviously, and Remus watches him head toward the stage. 

"Thank you, this really is an honor," Sirius says into the microphone, cradling the golden award. "I really couldn't have done it without my amazing team - Dorcas Meadowes, Peter Pettigrew, Lily Evans, and of course my lovely partner, Remus." 

Oh god. The camera is on Remus again. He's sure Sirius mentioned him just to put him on the spot. He's such a dickhead. Why does Remus put up with him again? 

He smiles and waves, feeling stiff. 

When Sirius is seated next to him again, Remus leans in and mutters, "I fucking hate you." 

There's a sly smirk and a hand on his thigh in response. Remus looks down to see alabaster skin and silver rings contrasted with the black fabric. He sucks in a breath. The hand shifts up, pinkie nearly at the crease where Remus's hip reaches his leg. 

Sirius leans in close once more, hot breath on Remus's neck. "I'm staying in room two-oh-five across the street." 

Right. This is why Remus puts up with him. Just his hand on Remus's leg is setting his whole body alight, making all the blood that had previously been powering his brain rush south, forgetting its priorities. Remus is a weak man for pale skin and silver rings and unruly hair. 

 

It takes far too long for Remus to get out of the building. He loses Sirius to the crowd, tries not to knock anyone over in his search for the car that Lily sent to take him back home. He knocks on the window to let the driver know his services aren't necessary, hoping to god that Lily doesn't find out and ask follow up questions.  

But, finally - finally - Remus is walking down a hall with thick carpets, scanning doors for the number he's looking for. At two-oh-five, he pauses, takes a deep breath, and knocks. 

He knows what he's doing. He knows why Sirius invited him here. He knows he shouldn't be here, shouldn't come everytime Sirius calls. But, just a few hours ago Remus was willing to accept that Sirius might never look at him the same way again. Now, he's here and walking away seems impossible. 

"Hello, darling."

Sirius has showered, hair damp around his shoulders and significantly less curly. He's not wearing a shirt. Remus is frozen for a moment faced with all that skin. The plaid pajama pants he's got on should not be doing things to his insides, but he's suddenly afraid his knees might give out. 

Remus clears his throat. "Hi."

Sirius moves aside to let him in, and Remus watches as he walks over to the loveseat in the room. The phases of the moon are tattooed in a line up his spine, and Remus likes the way they shift as he moves, imagines them contorting as Sirius arches up off a bed. Maybe the bed just a few feet away from him right now. 

He sits on the opposite side of the couch, hands trembling a little with nerves. Sirius does not seem to share the same sentiment, he kicks his feet up into Remus's lap with a sly smile. 

"So, what'd you think of your first award show?" He asks, casual and smooth. Remus wants to take him apart, see what's under that layer of confidence. He wants to see how Sirius will beg if he doesn't get what he wants, how he'll say please. 

"Terrible. I'm never going to one again," he answers. His heart is racing. He didn't come here for small talk, but he's also too nervous to make the first move. 

Sirius pouts at him. "You'd make me suffer all alone?" 

Oh, how Remus crumples when Sirius bats his eyelashes and looks at him with the face of an angel. 

"Maybe I would."

His hand is circling Sirius's thigh, just above the bend of his knee. He can feel the muscle there, the strength of his body hidden inside of his lithe frame. 

Sirius is back to smiling at him now, a knowing, satisfied look. "You would?" 

Remus tugs on his leg, sliding him closer. Sirius falls back on his elbows looking like he's just gotten away with murder. He slides a hand up Remus's arm, agile fingers wrapping around his bicep. He tilts his chin up to meet his eyes. 

Remus can't speak, only focus on the inches of space between their lips and how badly he wants to close it. Sirius bites his bottom lip, innocence back in his eyes, like he has no idea how he's been teasing Remus all night. 

"I don't think you would," he says, leaning closer. Remus can feel his breath now, hot and enticing. Remus wants to swallow the very air that Sirius exhales. 

"You overestimate my kindness," Remus manages. His voice is low, strained. 

Sirius kisses him. It's like that first breath of air after being underwater for too long. Remus's body has been aching for this again, desperate and delirious with his need for it; because it is a need. Remus needs to know how Sirius will look spread out on the bed in this hotel room, how he will sound when Remus fucks him, how he'll moan when he pulls his hair and bites his neck. 

Remus wraps his fingers up in Sirius's damp hair. It smells like the hotel's shampoo and feels like silk in his hand. Sirius grabs a fistful of his shirt, clinging to Remus in order to keep himself upright. It seems as though he's been waiting for this kiss just as long as Remus with the way he opens his mouth willingly and lets his tongue be brutalized. 

It's still not enough. Even as Remus is digging his fingers into Sirius's hip, spreading his palm out so he can feel the expanse of bare flesh on his back. He yanks Sirius onto his lap to straddle him. He runs his hands over his thighs, his waist, the line of his jaw. He needs all of it, he needs to know what it feels like to be so consumed with the sensation of touching him. 

Sirius half unravels his tie, pulling back just long enough to get it up over Remus's head. His hands go to the buttons on his shirt immediately as Remus works to get his coat off. He wants to have Sirius's skin directly on his own. He wants to absorb his warmth and let it heat the colder parts of himself. Just for tonight, he wants to let go. 

When his chest is laid bare and Sirius can run his hands over it, sending goosebumps all over Remus's body, he moves along to mouth at his jaw. He scrapes the skin with his teeth, turning his neck into blotches of red. He might leave a bruise or two - something he knows he shouldn't - but he can't be bothered to hold back now. 

"You want me so fucking bad," Sirius pants. He's tilting his head back so that Remus can continue his assault down to his shoulders, across his collarbones. Even now, when they're both breathless and worked up beyond themselves, he's still taunting Remus. And it's absolutely working.

"Shut up," Remus mutters against his skin. He bites at his neck one more time before relenting. "Get on the bed." 

Sirius clambers off of him quickly, grinning like a madman. Remus watches him, pausing at his suitcase to dig something out. He tosses it onto the bed and then quickly follows. He props himself up on the pillows, his pajama pants now pulled down low on his hips. Remus can see how they dip into a v, closing in between his legs. His mouth waters. 

He's momentarily frozen, shocked at what he's faced with. He's imagined this so many times and now it's actually happening. It's all surreal. 

Remus watches him run a hand over his chest, his stomach. He pauses just before his waistband, pinning Remus with a look of pure sin. Then, he palms over himself, sighing softly, arching up into it. 

"Are you going to fuck me, or should I do it myself?" He asks. Cocky fucking bastard he is. 

Remus stands, feeling dizzy. Is he going to fuck Sirius? He wants to, but this is another one of those lines that cannot be uncrossed. Doing this will change things. This is his last chance to bail out. He could shake his head and say this was a mistake, that he doesn't want to abuse their business relationship. 

But, then again, Remus is also absolutely desperate to pin Sirius into the mattress. He can allow himself this one time. He can have a taste of Sirius without it becoming a thing. Maybe then his brain will become his own again and he can stop fantasizing about this. He can give in tonight, and then go back to who he was before. 

So, he kicks off his shoes and sheds his shirt the rest of the way and covers Sirius's body with his own. The feeling of their skin pressed together is just as euphoric as Remus thought. He grabs Sirius's wrists and pins them above his head. 

"What? I'm not allowed to touch myself?" His smile is sly, teasing. 

"No, you're not," Remus answers. He wants to be the one to take Sirius apart, to coax his orgasm out of him. He rolls their hips together as if proving his point. 

Sirius gasps, pressing up into it. Remus is so turned on it hurts. 

"Fuck," Sirius breathes. Remus does it again. "Oh my god, I - fucking hell."

"You're so mouthy," Remus says. His voice sounds like a growl, a sound he wasn't quite aware he could make. Sirius seems to like it. He looks up at Remus with his lips parted and his eyes wide. The silver there is cloudy.

"Make me shut up, then." 

"No, I think I'd rather you be loud." 

Sirius moans, a soft, whining sound. Remus drinks it in. He drops a hand down between them and presses against Sirius, a hard and heated line. Sirius moans again and Remus feels his stomach flip. 

Maybe it's put on - Sirius is a performer after all - but Remus is eating it up.

"I think you want me so fucking bad," he echoes Sirius from before. 

"Obviously," Sirius says, sounding strained and breathing hard. Remus can feel him throbbing against his palm and slips his hand inside of his pajama pants. 

The feeling of Sirius in his hand sends heat sparking across Remus's body. He strokes him slowly, dragging his hand so that he can feel every inch of him. He swipes a thumb over the tip of him, feels the wetness already gathering there. He spreads it down Sirius's length to make the slide of his fingers easier. Sirius groans through lips pressed tightly closed, breathing hard through his nose. Remus watches him press up into his touch, searching for more friction, trying to fuck the circle of his fingers. 

More precome beads up. Remus wants to taste it. 

He pulls his hand away, the soft noise of protest that Sirius makes is causing arousal boil in Remus's stomach. He leans back so that he can tug off his pants, finally getting a full look at him. That line of muscle along his hips is adorned with vines of leaves, curling up toward his stomach. Remus bends to trace them with his tongue. 

Sirius practically keens when Remus finally takes him into his mouth. Under the lingering soap, Remus can taste the heady, muskiness that is Sirius. It's overwhelmingly good, impossibly good. 

"Oh my god, Rem," Sirius groans. And Remus really fucking likes it when he says his name like that. 

He hums around Sirius's length, feels a hand rest tentatively in his hair. 

He, unfortunately, possesses a gag reflex, unlike Sirius, so he wraps his fingers around what he can't take. He presses his tongue along the underside of him, feels the vein there throb against him. He hollows his cheeks, starts to bob his head, and pulls sounds from Sirius that make him want to come in his pants right then and there. It seems his vocal skills do not only pertain to singing. 

"Remus, fuck - fuck," Sirius whines. His legs are bent up at the knee, falling apart further as Remus starts to run his free hand along the inside of one thigh. He trails his fingers along to his balls, then further down. He presses against the skin there, and Sirius makes a high-pitched noise that makes Remus groan. "Rem - please."

And that's exactly what Remus has wanted. To hear Sirius beg. To make the icon of modern rock who can scald with a single look, who can command a crowd of thousands with a single word, writhe with need beneath him. It's almost more than Remus can take. 

He pulls his mouth away from Sirius, grips the base of him with one hand, and presses two fingers of his other to his lips. 

"You want me to fuck you?" He asks, voice thick and gravelly. 

Sirius answers by letting his mouth fall open, swallowing up Remus's fingers. He circles them with his tongue, lapping at them with enthusiasm. Remus can remember exactly how this mouth felt on his own cock, how entirely consuming it was to have Sirius's full attention like that. He certainly has his attention now. 

He lets Sirius suck on his fingers longer than necessary. He just enjoys the view of it far too much. But, he finally relents and pulls them away, liking the way Sirius's lips stay parted, breath passing through them in puffs. He presses the pads of both of them between his legs. Sirius whimpers. 

"You must be really enjoying yourself," Sirius says as Remus teases him. His legs are trembling a little. 

"And you're not?" 

He pushes both fingers inside then. Sirius cries out, arching up off the bed. The serpent on his ribs stretches with him. 

"I thought so," Remus murmurs. Maybe he's the cocky bastard. 

He fucks Sirius with his fingers a little harder than he normally would. He crooks them up sooner too. Sirius gasps at it, fisting the sheets and trying to pull Remus deeper. Remus mouths at his hips, biting at the jutting bone. He can see where his fingers disappear, his cock now straining against his trousers. He wants to bury himself inside of Sirius. It's a bodily ache for him. He feels as if he might die if he doesn't get to soon. Or come prematurely - an equally tragic outcome. 

He takes Sirius's cock in his free hand, laving his tongue over it. It's not enough pressure to give him what he really wants, and Sirius groans with it. It's a bit cruel, really, but Remus really likes the way Sirius sounds when he's worked up, he likes the way his body moves with Remus's touch. If he's only going to do this once he's damn well going to enjoy it. 

"Remus," Sirius gasps. His name is like a prayer on those lips. Remus presses harder against the spot that makes Sirius moan loudest. "Fucking - Remus, I -" Sirius stumbles over his words, grinding against Remus's fingers like he can't help himself. 

Remus sits back to look at him, fingers stilling. Sirius's chest is heaving, his hands still wrapped tightly up in the sheets. His cock is leaking heavily now, flushed a deep red against his pale skin. 

He stands, shedding his last bit of clothing, and searches over the bed for the two items that Sirius tossed there before. He grabs up the condom and rips it open with his teeth. He has to pull his fingers out of Sirius to put it on, which makes him let out a pitiful whimper. It really is something to see someone as aloof as Sirius Black fucking whimper. 

Sirius is watching him intently, lips parted and eyes wide. He's splayed like a piece of art, legs open and chest bared. Remus lets his eyes rake over his body, cataloging it, committing this scene to memory. 

"How much longer are you going to make me wait," Sirius groans. It would be snarky if it weren't for the undertone of desperation in his words. 

"God, you're needy," Remus answers. He would be lying if he said he weren't just as needy right now. 

He spreads a generous amount of lube over himself and lines up with Sirius's hole. The tension is palpable, the way Sirius's feet lift up off the bed to press into Remus's back. Remus's whole body is rigid with the anticipation of it all. 

He presses in, just an inch. 

"Oh, god," Sirius breathes, eyes falling shut and head pressing back against the pillows. 

Remus pushes in further, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep himself in check. Sirius is impossibly tight around him, a delicious hot, slick slide against him. When he bottoms out, he lets out a loud breath. 

"Jesus Christ," is all he can say. 

Sirius still has his eyes screwed shut, his legs rigid around Remus's waist. His heels dig into the small of his back, his hips lifting so that Remus is just that much deeper inside of him. 

It's just as mind blowingly good as Remus had thought it would be when he starts to fuck him. It's a whole body tingle, a heat that encapsulates his entire body. It's been a very long time since Remus had sex this good - maybe not ever. He doesn't want it to end. He feels like he's already come a dozen times. 

Sirius finally looks at him, reaching up and grabbing him by the back of the neck. Their mouths meet with a violent crash, teeth biting into lips. Remus digs his fingers into Sirius's hips as a way to ground himself. He fucks into him so hard that he's momentarily afraid that he might break him. 

Sirius is moaning into his mouth, though, and meeting Remus's thrusts halfway. It's as though he's been waiting just as long as Remus for this to happen, like now that it is he can't get enough. Remus gives him everything, letting Sirius abuse his mouth with his tongue while he leaves bruises on his hips. 

"So fucking good," Remus hears him mutter at one point. He clenches around him like a vice, his nails scratching against Remus's neck. He's sure that when this is over they'll both look like they've lost a fight. 

Remus is on the edge. He feels like he's been teetering there for hours, staving off his orgasm in some desperate plight. He reaches for Sirius, swiping up the moisture at the tip of him to spread down the rest of his cock. He can feel his pulse in his palm, echoing how tight he is around Remus. 

He leans back to push one of Sirius's knees against his chest with his free hand. It's nearly animalistic now, the way Remus is fucking him. He drinks up every last sound that falls from those perfectly red lips, the flush on his cheeks, his chest. His whole pale body is stained red. 

When Sirius comes, his eyes roll back and a broken moan tears its way out of his throat. His leg not pinned against his chest wraps around Remus's back tightly, holding him in place as he spills over Remus's hand. 

As soon as he's given an inch to move again, Remus fucks him right through it. Sirius's legs go limp, falling wide around Remus's hips. An unbearable heat rises in his stomach, makes his fingers claw at Sirius's skin. 

He comes hard, his vision whiting out for a few seconds as it washes over his body. He absolutely has never had sex this good. 

It takes a long minute before he gains control his limbs again, knees dug into the mattress, hands still wrapped around Sirius's hips. He pulls out of him and watches as Sirius's body sinks into the bed, his eyes glazed over as he stares up at the ceiling. 

Remus stands on wobbly legs, the silence of the room weighing heavy on his shoulders. He throws away the condom and stares blankly at the wall for a moment. He looks back to Sirius, still dazed against the pillows. He's still got a mess of his own come on his stomach. Remus wonders if cleaning him up would be allowed. 

After a few moments of debate, he steps into the bathroom for a towel. Sirius mutters a thanks when Remus hands it over, still looking only halfway there. Remus would really love to crawl back into bed and bask in this version of him, sleepy and blissed out, but he knows it isn't an option. 

He gathers his clothes and dresses quickly in the silence of the room. He allows himself one last glance at Sirius before he leaves, eyes shut now, looking entirely peaceful. Remus forces himself out the door. 

He's being stupid, he knows. He's never once wanted to linger after fucking someone. The only reason he feels differently is because he knows he can't have Sirius. He's always had a bad habit of going after the unattainable - a degree, a stable job, writing a novel. 

It's too daunting to go home, so Remus bundles himself in his suit jacket and starts to walk. The streets are still alive with the aftermath of the award show. A few nearby pubs have their doors propped open as patrons drift in and out. Remus catches a whiff of greasy bar food and feels his stomach growl. He'd been too anxious to eat before he left the flat and now he's utterly starving. 

He doesn't stop, though. As good as a giant burger and a cold beer sounds right now, he can't bear the idea of sitting still. He doesn't want to be forced to think about what he's just done, how he can never undo it. No, he just needs to keep moving, keep letting the cold sting his knees and stop his brain from running wild. 

Chapter 20: Happy Birthday And All That

Remus's birthday falls on a Wednesday. He goes the whole week ignoring the fact that he'll be a year older. That is, until his mother messages him bright and early to wish him a happy birthday. And then Marlene is greeting him with a box of donuts with a lit candle stuck right in the middle. He grimaces, tells his mum thanks, and blows out the candle. 

He doesn't like getting older. He doesn't like the fact that he's twenty-six and not really doing anything with his life. He hasn't gone to uni or been able to hold down a reputable job. He's still lying to his parents like he did when he was a teenager, and sleeping on his best friend's couch like he's nineteen. He really should have something more to show for himself. 

Instead, he's sat on his couch/bed and trying to convince himself that he isn't completely consumed with the fact that he fucked Sirius Black not two weeks ago. 

He's almost got himself convinced. He's had his taste of Sirius, gotten to see him exactly how he'd imagined in his dreams. He should be good now. He shouldn't want more. That's selfish. He should just allow things to go back to the way they were - bickering and banter. 

Their texts haven't changed in the slightest. They're still flirty, of course, but not more than they had been before. Sirius isn't sending him outright dirty talk. They're just casual teasing messages, poking fun and pretending like they haven't fucked. It's fine. Remus is fucking fine. 

 

He doesn't want to go out for his birthday - hadn't even been expecting it given the day of the week, but Marlene won't take no for an answer. She begs and nags him until he agrees. 

Remus is sat in the bathroom, letting her preen over his hair at eight. By nine, he's stepping into a club that's much too loud for his liking. He'd rather be at a low-key pub, sipping pints with her and maybe Dorcas. 

Cas is there, of course, because lately she goes wherever Marlene is. Alice and Frank show, too, but they're all lost to the dance floor within a half hour. Remus sneaks off to the bar to escape it all.

He orders a shot of tequila to get the night going. He plans on getting pleasantly drunk and bailing out within the next hour. By then, Marlene will be too caught up in Dorcas to care about him leaving his own birthday outing early. He just wants to go home and order Chinese and watch his favorite movies from the eighties. Molly Ringwald is calling his name. 

Remus downs his shot, gestures for another. Then, he sits with his elbows on the bar and tries to remind himself that Marlene wanted to do this for him because she loves him. Having friends is really a drag sometimes. Remus makes a mental note to look into flats to rent when he gets home. 

He's just finishing off the second round of tequila when a voice startles him out of his sulking. 

"Oi! Can we get another round for the birthday boy?" 

It hits Remus like a wave of cold water. He watches, frozen in shock, as the bartender returns to Remus's end of the bar with another shot glass and the bottle. She has to pour Remus's drink right between his fingers because he hasn't let go of the glass. The second cup is filled and a hand rests on his shoulder. 

"I can't believe you didn't tell me it was your birthday."

Remus finally looks at him. He doesn't know how to feel. He's spent the last week and a half trying to gear himself up for seeing Sirius again, and now he's right here with no warning. 

"In my defense," he says, trying not to choke on his own words, "coming here was Marlene's idea." 

"Well, it's a good thing Cas let it slip, then." Sirius slides into the stool next to him and takes his shot. He grimaces a little as it goes down. 

It's unfortunate that he even looks hot when he's wincing at the taste of 1800 tequila. Remus polishes off his third shot in half an hour just for something to do. He's going to be wasted in no time at this rate. 

"What? Is this not Remus Lupin's ideal birthday party?" Sirius gestures around the club. 

"It's a Wednesday," Remus points out. 

Sirius scoffs. "That's no reason to not get shit faced and dance on tables. It's your fucking birthday!" 

He stands and pulls Remus up with him. He makes it so easy to follow, so easy to do exactly what he wants. He just pins Remus with those grey eyes and perfect smile and suddenly he's lost all free will. 

It's not that Remus doesn't want him here. In fact, he's half been hoping that he might get a reason to see Sirius before their next scheduled public appearance. This club is dangerous, though. Remus can't keep letting himself slip up. He went too far last time and it can't happen again. He needs to stop feeling things for Sirius. Hooking up is one thing, Remus can get his mind around a one-off sexual encounter, but it's happened twice now. It would be so easy to just tow Sirius off to a bathroom and kiss him senseless right now. 

But, no. Sirius is here for his birthday because they've somehow become friends. He's here to get Remus drunk and make him dance terribly in front of everyone. He is not here so that Remus can continue to think about how pretty he is, how good he looks when he dances, how he always seems to know exactly what to say to make Remus laugh. 

"You made it!" Marlene says when he and Sirius break into the crowd. 

"Of course I did," Sirius says with a grin. "Someone has to give Remus his birthday spankings." 

Oh, christ. Remus swats his arm. This is not helping his urge to get his hands on Sirius and not let go. 

"God, they're worse than us, babe," Cas says. 

All Remus can do is smile awkwardly as Sirius puts an arm around him and presses an exaggerated kiss to his cheek. Part of it is fun, pretending to be a real couple, putting on a show for those who don't know the truth. The problem is that Marlene is right there grinning at Remus's suffering and he's painfully reminded that no matter what complicated feelings he has for Sirius, this can never be the reality. 

So, he lets Sirius pull him in close and make him dance. He lets his arms move around his waist, lets Sirius grind against him and laugh in his ear. It's ok, really. Sirius is here because they're friends now, and most of this is for Cas's benefit, so they don't blow their cover. It's nice, anyway, to feel like he has someone to spend his birthday with. He has someone to take shots with and kiss away the sour taste of lemon from his mouth. 

Sirius gets him good and drunk, pulls him onto a table that wobbles dangerously to dance. He convinces the DJ to play Werewolves of London, and laughs through the whole thing while Remus glares at him. He starts to let his hands wander over Remus's body, starts to kiss him more often during the breaks between songs. 

And, when Sirius leans in close and whispers, "Want to get out of here?" Remus is just drunk enough to say yes. 

 

They stumble out of an Uber and up the walk to Sirius's townhouse. Remus watches his hips sway, either because he's drunk or because he wants to torture Remus with how good he looks. He lets Sirius get a ways ahead so he can enjoy the view. 

He catches up to him at the top of the stairs and grabs him round the waist so he can press their mouths together in a kiss that tastes of tequila and bad decisions. Remus lets him kiss the guilt out of his mouth, and replace the sinking feeling in his gut with a boiling heat when he slips his hands up under his shirt. 

They're half undressed by the time they make it to Sirius's bedroom and Remus nearly throws him onto the bed. They both wriggle out of their jeans, shoes flying in opposite directions. He covers Sirius's body with his own, alabaster and olive twined together. 

Remus kisses the line of the serpent, the curling vines on his hips and palms him through his underwear. Sirius is already leaking, a darkened patch of fabric under Remus's fingertips. He moans freely, eyes blown dark. Remus wants. He told himself this wouldn't happen again - it couldn't happen again, for the sake of his own sanity. But, now that he's here, faced with the miles of skin and ink and Sirius's approving noises, he's lost all will to resist. 

Sirius pulls lube and a condom out of his bedside drawer with clumsy fingers and Remus makes him get on his knees. He presses in two fingers and watches the moon phases bow. Sirius groans and lets his head fall forward onto the pillows. 

Remus crooks his fingers up and leans down to bite the pale flesh he's faced with. Sirius keens with it, arching and pressing back. Remus leaves a bruise there, red and harsh against the white. He knows he'll be thinking about it for the next week, wondering how long it takes to fade. 

When he finally presses in Sirius is shaking, barely holding himself up on his elbows. Remus wraps a hand around his waist to keep him from falling. He traps his cock there, pressed to his stomach, and can feel the moisture drip over his arm. 

"Oh, god," Sirius gasps. Remus grunts in agreement. 

It shouldn't be this good. Drunk sex is never very good. Remus should be stumbling over himself just trying to get off. He shouldn't be admiring the way Sirius's back looks shining with sweat, or focusing on how to angle his hips just right so that he moans the loudest. 

Remus leans over him, encasing his body. He drops his lips to his shoulder, his neck. He licks salt from his skin and savors the taste. Sirius is tight around him, choking on moans with his chin to his chest. Remus can feel his ribcage heaving with heavy breaths beneath him, his thighs quivering against his own. 

He shifts his hips, fucking into Sirius hard, the whole bed moving with them. 

"Remus," Sirius groans. His arms give out and he's just a mess of black hair on a silk pillowcase. 

"So good, baby," Remus says back with a strained voice. The pet name slips out, but he's too far gone to even bother worrying about it. He's still holding Sirius's hips up with his arm around his waist and he can feel his cock throbbing against his forearm. 

The thing is, it feels so incredibly right to be with Sirius - not even just sex. It feels like some part of Remus is clicking into place when they're in the same room, like he's finally found something he didn't know he was looking for. He likes when Sirius laughs at his sarcasm and smiles at him like they're in on some joke that the rest of the world wouldn't understand. He likes when he gets that look in his eyes. That look that tells Remus he should probably run but he knows he won't. He likes that Sirius is unpredictable, that he takes up so much space, that he's impossible to tame. 

Even now, with Sirius beneath him, putty in Remus's hands, he's the one calling the shots. 

Remus hoists Sirius up into his lap. His head falls back into Remus's shoulder, black curls spread over both of their skin. He rocks their bodies together, grinding straight up against his prostate. Sirius is panting hard, desperate, high-pitched noises coming from his parted lips with every breath. He moves his hand across his stomach and wraps his fingers around his cock. 

"Rem, god, please," Sirius babbles. Oh, how Remus loves the sound of his name on those lips. 

He strokes Sirius fast, gathering precome with his thumb. He half wants to bring his fingers to his mouth to taste it, but he doesn't want to let go of Sirius for a second. Sirius's hips twitch erratically, searching for friction. Remus moves his other arm around his waist and does his best to help him move up and down. 

It's completely uncoordinated, the epitome of drunk sex, but Remus is convinced that it's impossible to have bad sex with Sirius Black. He clenches around Remus, his breath hitching. Remus bites his shoulder and squeezes the base of his cock. 

Sirius digs his nails into Remus's arms as he comes, bracing himself as he nearly doubles over. Heat coats Remus's fingers as he tightens his grip in an effort to keep him up. The sight of his face, brow furrowed in pleasure, his hair falling in an unruly curtain over his eyes, makes Remus groan. 

Sirius manages to catch himself on his forearms when Remus lets him drop back onto the mattress. He holds his hips so tightly he's sure there'll be bruises. Sirius whimpers, oversensitive, as Remus chases his orgasm. He grabs a handful of black curls and tugs once before he's falling over the edge. 

Remus turns to jelly, his body collapsing into Sirius's, barely managing to roll to one side so as not to completely crush him. It courses through his whole body, his head spinning, his fingertips buzzing. 

"Happy birthday, by the way," Sirius rasps. Remus huffs a laugh, his vision still blurry. 

He should get up, he should go. How had he done it last time? How had he managed to get out of bed so quickly? He feels like he could sleep for days right now. 

He just needs a minute to collect himself. Just one minute. He can stay here in Sirius's stupidly comfortable bed, trapped like a fly in a spider's web for sixty seconds. 

His eyes flutter shut. 

Notes:

To all of you saying that Remus is a stupid dummy idiot in the comments: I regret to inform you that he will in fact continue to be a stupid dummy idiot for the foreseeable future.

Chapter 21: Gay Panic

Oh no. Is Remus's first thought. 

I feel like I'm dying. Is his second. 

I wish I could die. Is his third. 

It's morning and there's a pile of black hair next to him, snoring softly with the blanket just covering his hips. He's naked. They're both naked. This is so bad. 

Remus eases out of bed, cursing the inventor of memory foam the whole time. His head aches like it never has before. He genuinely feels like he might die. That would be one hell of a way for Sirius to find him trying to escape before he wakes up. 

He tugs on his boxers, his jeans, and gathers up the rest in his arms. Getting dressed while trying to go down a set of stairs is a terrible activity for the violently hungover, but Remus is in a panic. He needs to get out, he needs to not be here one moment longer. 

He walks a block down the road before he even pulls out his phone to get a ride home. 

 

As soon as he's in the flat, he beelines for the kitchen sink, gulping water straight from the tap. Marlene must not be home because no one comes to ask him what the hell he's doing. 

Remus's heart is pounding, his head is pounding. Stupid, stupid, stupid is all he can think. He clamps his hands over his ears as if it might muffle the sound of his voice in his own head. He's having trouble breathing. 

He sits down right there on the kitchen floor, leaning against the cupboards. He pulls his knees to his chest and rests his forehead on them. It's all he can do to keep from throwing up. 

 

Remus doesn't remember getting to the couch. He doesn't remember burrowing beneath an impractical amount of blankets, or even falling asleep. 

But, when he opens his eyes it's dark outside. 

"Well, good morning, sunshine," he hears Marlene say. 

He manages a grunt, squinting toward the direction of the kitchen. She's at the counter, slicing up a frozen pizza. The smell of it makes Remus's stomach cramp with hunger and nausea. He hasn't eaten since lunch yesterday. He had been planning on getting takeaway on his way home from the club. But. Well. 

"Are you hungry?" She asks, already walking toward him with a plate. 

"I think I'm dying," Remus answers. It's true - both physically and metaphorically. He's dying of a hangover and immense stupidity. How the hell could he have allowed himself to do that? Even as drunk as he was, he didn't think he would do something so idiotic. He mentally vows to never drink again. 

"You were pretty smashed when I saw you last -" She cuts herself off, mouth agape. "Remus, what is on your neck?" She's frozen in the middle of the room, plate wobbling precariously in her hand. 

Remus lifts his hand to his neck out of instinct, expecting a bug or a cut or something. 

"Holy shit," she laughs, half amused, half bewildered. "Is that a hickey? It's bloody huge."

"What? No." 

Remus fumbles for his phone and points the camera at himself. Sure enough, there's a splotchy red and purple mark on his neck. Marlene is right. It's absolutely huge. 

He doesn't even remember Sirius doing it. He doesn't remember any details of the night, really. Did he leave a mark on him? There's a spark of excitement at the thought, but he tamps it down immediately. 

"You and Sirius totally fucked," she says, matter of fact. Remus's face burns. "I thought you guys were just putting on a show for Cas, but, shit." 

Marlene sits next to him, pizza forgotten on the coffee table. She leans in close, like she's trying to analyze the godforsaken bruise on Remus's neck. She's got a kind of awe in her eyes, like she can't quite believe what she's seeing. Remus hopes he's dreaming. One of those intense anxiety dreams you wake up from in a cold sweat. 

"Can you not?" Remus mutters, putting his hand on his neck, covering the mark. 

"What? It's not a big deal." She leans back on the couch, hands up in surrender. Remus tries to glare at her, but for some reason he feels like he might start crying. That would just be the cherry on fucking top. He thinks the past twenty-four hours of his life might be the worst he'll ever experience.

"Sure," he says. It absolutely is a big deal, and Marlene thinking it's not is exactly the reason that Remus didn't want her to find out. This thing with Sirius is so bloody fucked up, it is the biggest deal in the world. Remus can't stand it. He can't stand the nonchalant look in Marlene's eye. He wants someone to shake him by the shoulders and tell him to keep his dick in his pants. 

"Wait..." Marlene is looking at him intently now, analyzing how she used to when they were just a pair of teenagers stealing exam answers and bottles of liquor. She always knew when he had a fifth of vodka stashed beneath his bed. "Do you like him?"

Oh god. There it is. The one question Remus doesn't have an answer for. 

Well, he does have an answer. He just doesn't like it. 

He buries his face in his hands and groans. 

"Remus Lupin!" Marlene shouts, shaking his shoulder in excitement. "Oh my god, you have a crush! When was the last time you had a crush?!" 

"Shut up," he groans again. 

"You like him," she continues in the tone of a child teasing their friend on a playground. 

"I can't like him," Remus says to his palms. Marlene has to understand that. This isn't a crush on a guy who serves him coffee or someone he met at a bar. This is Sirius. Remus cannot like him. 

"But you do." 

Remus braves a look above his fingers. Marlene looks smug, not at all grasping the weight of this conversation. Remus wants to scream, wants to flip a table or start throwing things. He had been doing so well, avoiding this very question. He knows the answer, which makes it a thousand times worse because he had kept that buried behind a very thick wall of denial. Now Marlene has come in with a wrecking ball and ruined all his hard work. 

"It - it's complicated." A non-answer, but the truth. 

"Why? Because you guys fucked? Cas and I slept together and now we're in deep, lesbian love." 

"You don't work for Cas," Remus points out. He hides himself back in his hands again. Saying these things aloud makes them too real. It pains his chest, like his heart doesn't want to hear what his head has to say.

"Rem, come on." Her tone is a bit softer now, apparently finally tuning in to Remus's turmoil. She sets a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Just because you work for him doesn't mean there's not something there. I saw you guys dancing last night. You looked so happy." 

That hurts too. It's true. Remus is so happy when he's around Sirius. He's also nervous and on edge and constantly considering kissing him, but he's happy. Now he really feels like crying. 

"I - I don't think it's the same for him." 

Now there's the truth - the real truth. He's known it all along. Remus really fucking likes Sirius, as much as he's loath to admit it, and Sirius sees him as nothing more than someone to entertain him. It's very convenient really, that they get along so well, that Sirius can convince Remus to take him to bed so easily. Remus is a fucking fool. 

"Rem," Marlene's voice is full of pity. Remus looks up to see that her face matches the tone. 

"Can we just talk about something else? Anything else." 

"I think there's a new season of Big Brother out." 

"Thank god for that."

Chapter 22: Remus is jealous of everyone

Everything goes wrong the morning Remus is meant to be leaving for Germany. The night before he spends hours looking for his passport only to find it shoved at the bottom of the bag he already packed. Then, he oversleeps in the morning and by the time he's up there's a car outside honking and a string of annoyed texts waiting for him. 

He stumbles through the kitchen, trying to get a little caffeine in him while he gets his jeans on. He spills the coffee on his shirt and has to change course to find another one. The car leaves twenty minutes late from his flat and Remus has to tie his shoes in the backseat. 

At the airport, his gate changes twice and he's sucked into crowds that are going in the opposite direction. Finally, when it's almost time to board, it's announced that the flight has been delayed by at least an hour. 

Frustrated, exhausted, and still very much in need of a large cup of coffee, he slumps into an uncomfortable chair to wait it out. He grabs his phone out of habit. 

Remus: You will not believe the morning I've had.

Sirius: Did you dream about an alpaca breaking into your house too??

Remus: No

Remus: Wtf

Remus: Nevermind you go first.

He's sworn Marlene to silence about their conversation. He can't bear to talk about it, he can hardly even think about it. He ignores and denies and pretends the fact that he texts Sirius about everything just for an excuse to talk to him means nothing. Nevermind that he talks to Marlene half as often and they live together. 

But, when Sirius tells him about his stupid dream, and regales Remus with the tale of how he tried to get pancakes ordered to his room in the middle of the night, he doesn't care so much about how shitty his morning has been. In a few hours he'll be in Germany, backstage at a new venue, and Sirius will be there. 

 

Of course his flight gets delayed again, thus putting another damper on his mood. By the time he finally boards his whole schedule has to be rewritten. He won't have time to stop by the hotel to change out of his joggers and hoodie into something more presentable. It's embarrassing how much it stresses him out. He hadn't realized how much he appreciated having time to compose himself before he saw Sirius. Now he'll be forced to show up in an outfit that could never compare to Sirius's impeccable appearance. 

He breaks the news of his late arrival to Sirius from his seat on the plane while he waits for takeoff. He receives a frowny-face emoji in response, which makes the fact that some lady almost drops her carry-on into his lap far less annoying. Leaning back in his seat, Remus hopes that he'll be in the sky soon. He's already lost two hours of time he could've spent with Sirius. By now, he'll be getting to the venue and preparing for his show. Remus wishes he could be there in his dressing room. 

 

The ride from the airport to the stadium is slow and chock full of traffic. Remus half wants to bail out of the car and walk the rest of the way because he's sure it'll be faster. He knows he's missed most of Sirius's show. He'll be lucky to catch the encore at this point. It's driving him crazy. He wants to shout at the next pedestrian who dares to make this drive last even longer. 

When he's finally let out and directed to the back door, Remus walks as fast as he can through the hallways toward the sounds of a heavy, thrumming bass. At the final turn, when he's faced with the backstage crew with all their headsets and wires, he's impatient and just shoulders his way through to the wing of the stage. 

He's there, in all of his glorious flesh and blood. Remus hadn't realized how much he missed seeing Sirius in person until now. Photos and texts just don't do him justice. 

He's wearing a shirt with the sleeves cut off so severely that the holes around his arms gape down to show his ribs. Remus can see the serpent and itches to touch it.

Sirius's fingers dance down the neck of his guitar as he steps back from the mic. Remus leans against the wall to watch him, a stupid grin tugging at his lips. He watches his steps, backing up the stage toward the drum set. Sirius leans in to play with the man sitting there for a moment and Remus can see him smile as he bangs on symbols. 

It's an icy shock through his chest, watching the two of them. Remus has never met Sirius's touring band. He's never had a reason to. But now, looking at the buff guy with short red hair and impressive beard smile at Sirius, he suddenly feels nauseous. It doesn't matter what the truth is, Sirius is supposed to be taken. Nobody except their closest friends know the truth, and this guy sure as hell shouldn't. Remus is struck with the awful realization that Sirius might be spending his nights with someone else when he isn't here. 

But then Sirius is turning and he sees Remus and he's smiling as bright as the sun. Any thoughts about jealousy or the buff drum player or someone else in Sirius's bed are melted away. Remus smiles back. 

It's only a brief exchange of smiles, but it warms Remus through completely. His stomach is fluttering as he watches Sirius return to the microphone to finish out the song. He has no idea which one it is or what the lyrics are, but it's the best thing he's ever heard. 

Within ten minutes Sirius appears in the alcove that Remus has claimed. He's drenched in sweat and buzzing with adrenaline and Remus is completely drunk on it. 

"You're late," Sirius points out. 

"Sorry. Next time I'll steal a plane and make sure I get here on time." 

"That's honestly the bare minimum." 

 Remus bites back a smile. 

"I like you in this," Sirius says, looking Remus up and down. 

Remus glances down at himself - the baggy joggers, the ratty sweatshirt. He looks awful. He's sure his hair is a mess. It's not clear is Sirius is teasing him or not. 

He doesn't get a chance to find out. A woman in a headset pulls Sirius aside and starts to ask him about sound levels or something. Remus watches them go, disappearing into the fray of the backstage tech. 

When he appears back on stage for his encore, he comes from the other side and Remus hates it. He wishes Sirius would look over at him again, that he would smile or at least acknowledge that he's still there. Whatever songs he plays to finish out the night fall on Remus's deaf ears. He's too busy watching Sirius's back as it sways in front of the crowd. He wants to touch him, to get another taste of his attention. He hates himself for the weakness. He's never been the type to get jealous or clingy or pine over someone. 

The final song fades out and Sirius says his goodbyes. Remus is half in a daze, trying to get ahold of himself, his thoughts. He doesn't register that Sirius barrelling toward him at an alarming speed until he's crashing into Remus's chest. 

He's got the manic, wild look he always gets after a show. Remus loves it and hates that he loves it. 

Sirius tackles him, spins them around, staggers them both out of the alcove and into someone's way. He gets Remus in a headlock, making him bend halfway over and cackles out a laugh when Remus tries to grab him back. They're like a couple of schoolboys there for a moment, grappling and pushing each other. Somehow he ends up on Remus's back, arms around his neck. 

"Take me to my dressing room," he demands. 

"You are such a diva," Remus answers. 

He takes Sirius to his dressing room. 

Leaning against the wall, Remus watches him gather things from around the room. He stops at the mirror and fusses with his hair for a second. Remus really likes how it frizzes up after a show, the curls taking on a life of their own. 

"We're going out for drinks," Sirius informs him. "Lily said she's already got photographers set  up."

The bubble is burst. They are not schoolboys or friends who laugh and tackle each other. They aren't a pair who make out and end up in each other's beds when they've had too much to drink. Remus is an employee and Sirius is his job. 

He tries to tamp down this disappointment, hiding it behind a false smile. He lets Sirius take his hand and walk him out of the venue and into the car. 

 

The bar Lily has chosen for them is just loud enough that Remus can pretend that he's not utterly crushed by the whole ordeal. 

The drummer shows up, sliding into the booth across from them, and then the girl who plays bass. Remus has had his arm draped around Sirius's shoulders for the benefit of the cameras he can't see, but now he scooches a little closer. 

The drummer is called Fabien and the girl who plays bass is Ronnie. They're friendly and Sirius laughs at their jokes and tells the story of how they all met. Remus smiles along and wishes he weren't such an asshole so that maybe he could enjoy this. 

Sirius gets a few drinks in him and when he returns to the table with another round, he plops himself down right in Remus's lap. Remus has had enough whiskey sodas to find it natural to hold his waist. He watches Sirius take a long drink of a cocktail and lean down until their lips touch. 

It doesn't matter how often it happens, Remus will always be a little flustered at the first kiss after they've been apart. Even if it's just for the cameras or Fabien and Ronnie, Remus is grateful that the dam has been broken. Sirius still wants to kiss him. 

After that Remus lets himself give in. He's drunk enough that he can forget that it's all fake for a while. He rests a hand on Sirius's thigh, kisses the underside of his jaw. He just wants to touch, to enjoy the feeling of him while he still has it. It doesn't matter if Sirius spends his nights with someone else when Remus leaves, or that this is all a matter of convenience for him, or that it's all for show. He's pathetic enough to savor it, to take all that he can get. 

At some point Sirius leans down and breathes into Remus's ear, "I want you." And Remus couldn't say no even if he wanted to. 

They stumble into a bathroom stall, kissing and biting and struggling to get each other's clothes off enough to touch. Remus pulls sounds of out him that would make anyone looking to use the restroom for its intended purpose blush and turn away. And Sirius kneels on the filthy tiles until Remus is braced against the opposite wall and close to biting his own tongue off in an effort to keep himself at an acceptable volume. 

When it's done, he does his best to help Sirius clean up before they return to the table. He's thrilled with the obvious flush on his face, with how his hair looks mussed from how Remus was holding it. He wants everyone in the bar to know what happened here. He wants everyone who looks at Sirius to think too bad he's already taken. 

 

That night Remus sleeps in his own hotel room for the first time since the beginning of all this. The empty expanse of mattress serves as a sobering reminder as to how right he is. Sirius doesn't really want him - not past meaningless sex and blowjobs in grimy bathrooms anyway. 

He's being stupid and naive and he really needs to get over these godforsaken feelings he's having. He needs to remember how he turned them off so that he can have his fun and forget about it in the morning. Sirius doesn't seem to have a problem with it so he shouldn't either. 

Notes:

Sorry this took so long. Midterms killed me.

Chapter 23: Breakdowns are easier when you're making out

Remus doesn't mean to make a habit of it. Really. Every time he boards a plane he tells himself that last time was the last time. He also tries to prepare himself for disappointment, because he knows that if it doesn't happen he'll be crushed. 

So it can't happen. But it does. And Remus wants it. But he doesn't. Not really. 

It's a month and a half of surrounding himself with Sirius, inhaling his scent, touching every inch of his body. And, between, it's never ending texts that make Remus's heart hurt. He doesn't know what to do with all he feels for Sirius. He can't imagine ever telling him. He can't fathom the idea that it might ever be something real. It's only late at night when he just has the past threads of texts to read over and over again that he starts to feel a little hope. That is, until they're together again and Remus can't help but second guess his every move. 

There's Amsterdam and an empty hallway, and Iceland and a stark white hotel room. There's Spain and Greece and Portugal. It's amazing to see it all, to stand at hotel windows and try to convince himself that this is real life. It's even better that Sirius is waiting for him each time he enters a new country. 

Summer in London is muggy and oppressive. Remus spends his days in air conditioned cafes and used book stores. He reads a dozen books and drinks more coffee than is good for him. He counts the days between seeing Sirius and seeing him again. His contract will be up at the end of June, and he knows he can't sign another. It'll be too painful to keep this going for any longer than it already has. He's going to miss it. 

All good things must come to and end. Or whatever they say. Remus is pretending like it isn't happening at all. It's easier to convince himself that he doesn't care that way.

 

He arrives in Switzerland just as a heat wave is due to hit England. He's thankful to land in the early evening, when the sun isn't so violent. It's a routine now, get off the plane and into a car and to a hotel room. He's running out of things to wear that might impress Sirius, but he tries his best. Back to the car and to the venue for the night. Then, he searches the new and unfamiliar hallways for Sirius. 

He wanders around for ten minutes before he finds the dressing room. It's marked with the usual piece of printer paper and scotch tape. The door is open a few inches, so Remus lets himself in. 

Sirius is standing at the back of the room. He's on the phone, knuckles white from where he's gripping it. His other hand is tugging at a strand of his hair at his temple. Remus pauses. 

"I'm being unreasonable? Listen to yourself!" 

He's only half shouting, probably keeping his voice down for the benefit of nosy passerbys. Nosy people like Remus. He can't bring himself to turn away, though. He knows he should go wait in the hall. This isn't a phone call he should be over hearing. But there's an energy in the room, a tense set to Sirius's shoulders, and he sounds like he's talking around a clenched jaw. Remus doesn't want to leave him alone like this. 

"Loyalty?! You want to talk to me about loyalty?!" 

Remus's own body tenses. Something about Sirius upset makes him go rigid with anger. He thinks about the photographer he punched and wonders if he'd be reckless enough to do it again. 

It's at this moment that Sirius seems to sense that someone else is in the room with him. He looks over his shoulder and meets Remus's gaze. His grey eyes are burning, glazed with something that might be tears. Remus feels a tug in his gut, an instinct to go toward him, to grab the phone and throw it against a wall. But then the person on the other end of the call must say something, because Sirius's expression turns deadly. He turns back toward the wall and Remus watches him pull back the phone a little ways so that he can talk directly into the microphone. 

"That's bloody rich coming from you," he snarls. Remus has been on the receiving end of that biting tone. He wonders if the caller knows that he's poking a bear that should really be left alone. "I don't owe you a goddamn thing."

With that Sirius ends the call and throws his phone at the floor himself. It falls so that Remus can't see if there's any damage done, but it seems to make Sirius feel a little better. 

He looks back up at him and sees the tears that are certainly gathering in Sirius's eyes now. He lifts an arm, unsure of what to do. He's fighting his urge to go to him immediately, to comfort him. He's never wanted to comfort someone who's been crying before. Usually tears make him turn tail and run. Now he's fighting a battle between wanting to wrap him in his arms and not cross any of the flimsy boundaries they've made. 

Sirius makes the decision for him. He crosses the room and wraps his arms around Remus's waist, his face in his shoulder. Remus only hesitates for a moment before he's hugging him back. 

He can feel the way Sirius's breath comes shakily, how his body heaves a little with each suppressed sob. Remus holds him tighter. There's moisture soaking through the collar of his shirt and it breaks his fucking heart. 

He doesn't know how long they stand like that. Remus tries to think of something to say. He doesn't want to ask about the phone call. Sirius probably wouldn't tell him anyway. It's killing him though. He wants to know - know everything, really - so that he might learn how to make it better. 

Finally, Sirius tilts his face up, tear tracks down his cheeks, and kisses Remus hard. It's surprising, but it's also aggressive and needy, like Sirius might die if he doesn't get it right now. And Remus is ready to give him anything. 

It's not sweet or gentle or anything like Remus would think someone in emotional distress would need right now. Their teeth clash and lips get trapped in the crossfire. Remus doesn't know if he should be letting Sirius do this or if he should make him step back and talk about what's going on. He's too afraid of messing things up to do anything but follow his lead. 

They stagger backward, Sirius's weight thrown against Remus's body. He holds so tight to Remus's waist that he's sure there'll be bruises. Remus pulls him closer. Sirius's skin against his always makes things a little more bearable, so he figures it can't hurt to close any remaining distance between them. 

Sirius reaches up for his shoulders, pulling his head down to deepen the kiss. It's rapacious like the first time they kissed - really kissed - and Remus was sure he'd never get enough. He still feels that way, but it's something else to have Sirius reciprocating it. His hands never still, smoothing over Remus's waist, the back of his neck, up into his hair. It makes him dizzy. 

When both of them are breathing hard, Sirius pulls away. Remus keeps his hold on his hips because he's not ready to let go yet. He looks down into red-rimmed eyes, tears still stained on his cheeks, and doesn't know whether to feel guilty or not. 

"Sorry," Sirius says. He runs a hand through his hair, gaze flickering between Remus and the wall behind him. "I just..." He chews his lip like he's nervous. It's an unfamiliar look. Remus doesn't know what to do with it. 

"S'ok," Remus says. He's surprised at the sound of his own voice. Had they really kissed so long that he forgot how to speak? It wouldn't be hard to believe. He could probably kiss Sirius for hours without noticing the time passing by. 

"I should probably get ready," he says, voice soft and eyes not meeting Remus's. 

"Yeah," Remus nods. He realizes he's still holding Sirius's hips and lets go. "I'll see you for the encore," he adds, just to lighten the mood. Sirius's lips twitch into something close to a smile. 

 

Remus watches from the balcony instead of backstage. He realizes he's only ever seen Sirius perform from this perspective once. As much as he loves to be in his line of sight just in case he's awarded with a smile meant just for him, he's entranced watching him from the crowd. The energy is palpable up in the balcony, and Remus could bathe in it all. All these people who love to watch Sirius do what he does best. 

If Remus hadn't been with him just twenty minutes earlier, he never would've guessed that Sirius had just been having some sort of emotional breakdown. He woos the crowd like he always does, soaks up all the attention like it's sustenance. And, maybe it is. These people don't know the side of Sirius that Remus does. They don't know that between having thousands of people chant his name, he's kind of a mess. 

Knowing this - knowing that Remus is one of only a handful of people to see Sirius at his most vulnerable - makes his heart ache. He can't tell if it's a good hurt or not. All he knows is that whatever Sirius gives him is something precious that should be wrapped up tight never let go of. 

For an hour and a half, Remus let's himself forget all of his worries. He pushes aside his questions about what Sirius means to him, what he might mean to Sirius, what made him so fragile after that phone call. For ninety minutes he is just another admiring fan. 

He has the setlist memorized by now, so he knows when it's time to vacate his VIP seating and return to the fray backstage. He steps over cords and winds through roadies like a professional after so much practice. A few of them even nod at him, recognizing him from previous shows. Remus wonders if they know this routine as well as he does. If they know that in the ten minutes before Sirius goes on for his last two songs, they're hidden away together. 

Sirius is breathless when he meets Remus in the alcove. He's lost all bravado, his shoulders slumping as he leans against the wall. Remus steps between him and the stage, blocking him with his body like he's done so many times for the paparazzi. He finds a water bottle and hands it over. 

Usually Sirius is ripe with adrenaline at this point in the night. That's part of what drives them away to some secluded hallway or closet. Now, he takes a weak sip of his water and tries to catch his breath. 

Remus is quiet, not wanting to say the wrong thing. He rests a hand on Sirius's hip again in a show of understanding. The look he gets in response makes his heart melt a little. Sirius's eyes are tired, but they're so soft looking up at Remus like that. His cheeks are flushed with exertion and there's a little water on his bottom lip that makes it shine. It's absolutely unfair how stunning he is. 

"Wait here for me?" Sirius asks when he gets the signal. 

"Obviously," Remus answers. He gets another small smile for his efforts. 

Then he's back on stage, turning whatever dial that changes him from exhausted to infectious energy. Remus wonders if he's ever turned that dial for him. He really hopes not. 

He plays Remus's favorite song - the one he told the interviewer at the award show about. It feels special, like it's just for him. Remus can almost imagine that it is. 

When it's over, Sirius pauses before him, offering a hand. Remus takes it and leads them back through the hallways to the dressing room. He watches from the doorway as Sirius puts on a hoodie and his sunglasses despite the fact that it's nearing midnight. For once, he doesn't think they look pretentious, but like armor. Remus tucks him under his arm as they brave the short walk to the getaway car. 

 

It's not a question of if Remus will go to his room. He forgets all his reasoning and self-scolding about not letting it happen again. If Sirius wants him - needs him - right now, then Remus is honored to oblige. Even if it's just to keep him company. 

He's pulled into bed anyway, but it's different from every other time. It's not rushed or aggressive, but slow and sweet. Remus kisses him through the whole thing, and runs his hands over his body like he's soothing him. The one thing that's familiar is just how unfamiliar it is. Remus has never had sex like this, but it's not because it's mind blowingly good or intense, it's because he's never felt so connected to another person before. 

Even if they don't speak, don't address what happened, Remus feels like he understands in a way he never expected to be able to. He gets wanting to bury whatever Sirius is dealing with in another person, but not just because it's easier. He wants to be grounded, to feel like someone else is in the shit with him and still cares. 

After, Remus stands to throw away the condom and start searching for his clothes, but Sirius is watching him. Usually he's got his eyes shut, or is staring at the ceiling at this point, like it's hard for him to look at Remus when it's over. Usually there's an air of guilt hanging heavy in the room and Remus is quick to get out as soon as possible. 

But, just like everything else that's happened tonight, their dynamic is turned on its head. So, Remus is brave enough to sit on the bed and meet his eyes. 

"If I go take a shower will you still be here when I get back?" 

It's a confusing question. Of course Remus won't be here, he's never here. He doesn't overstay his welcome, doesn't force either of them to face the aftermath. He always thought he was doing Sirius a favor by making himself disappear. 

There's a shine in his grey eyes, and a deep sadness behind them. Remus can feel his heart and his resolve crumbling. 

"Do you want me to be?"

Sirius bites his lip, silent for a moment before answering. "Yes." 

"Ok," Remus nods. His heart is beating out of his chest. He doesn't know what he's supposed to do with it. This is uncharted territory and he's never been good at navigating. 

Sirius gets up and shuts the bathroom door behind him without another word. It's not until the water turns on that Remus lays back down. The room smells of sex and the bed smells of Sirius. Remus lets himself soak it in for a moment. 

How many times has he wanted to stay but knew he couldn't? Twice he's woken up in a panic because he stayed anyway. Now he has permission to stay and he's more anxious than ever. 

When the water stops, Remus rolls to his side to face the wall. He pretends to be asleep when Sirius gets back into bed because he doesn't know what else to do. 

To his surprise, Sirius presses himself right up behind him. His hand finds a place on Remus's chest and he knows that his cover is blown. Still, they're both silent. Remus is taken aback by how comforting it is to have someone this close to him. It's not long before he actually falls asleep to the sound of Sirius's even breaths against the back of his neck. 

Chapter 24: Good Morning, I'm Freaking Out

The weight on Remus's chest is unfamiliar. The soft sound of someone else's breaths make him start and look down at the mop of black curls splayed over him. He must've rolled onto his back at some point last night, and now Sirius is draped halfway across him, arm over his chest, leg over his thighs. 

It's panic inducing and wrong and Remus is in a state of shock for at least a minute. But, it's also nice. Sirius's warm body, the rise and fall of his chest, even the piece of hair that's tickling his nose. Without really thinking, Remus wraps his arm around his back, and Sirius shuffles closer, tucking his face into Remus's neck. He's smiling without realizing it. 

A moment later, Sirius stirs again. He presses his face further against Remus for a moment, fighting against the morning sun. Then, slowly, he raises his head, curls obscuring half his face. He blinks at Remus, seeming to put it all together the same way he had. 

"Morning," he mumbles. 

Remus realizes that he's never actually heard Sirius speak in the morning. He's never seen him wake up. It feels more intimate than what they did the night before. He soaks up the image, the raspy sound of Sirius's voice, the way his eyes blink slowly as he tries to rid himself of sleep. 

"Morning," he echoes. 

Sirius sits up, stretches, pops his back. Remus catalogs each movement. This is what Sirius does in the morning. This is how he turns to loosen his back. This is how he flicks his hair out of his eyes. 

"Shit," Sirius says suddenly. He's halfway through trying to pull his hair back, though Remus can't see any nearby hair ties. He lets his hair fall back to his shoulders and rubs his eyes. "What time is your flight? Are you gonna miss it?" 

Shit. Remus looks at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It's already half past ten. His flight leaves at eleven. 

"Do you think Lily will book me another one?" He asks anxiously. "Or do you think she'd just send a drone strike and take me out now?" 

Sirius laughs, a crackly sound this early. "She won't be able to get you if you stay inside." 

"God, I hope you're right." 

Remus stands and starts to locate his jeans on the floor. He finds his phone in the back pocket and starts to send another I'm really sorry Lily, but... text. 

It's now that he's standing that he comes to terms with the fact that he's never had a morning after with Sirius. He doesn't know the protocol. Is he supposed to leave now? Is Sirius waiting for him to see himself out? Is he annoyed that Remus missed his flight because now he doesn't have an excuse to get rid of him?

He risks a look over at him, but he's just sitting there propped up on the pillows looking back at Remus with a half smile on his face. He's still naked, as far as Remus can tell, and his hunched shoulders make his collarbones poke out. It reminds Remus of how he had once fantasized about biting him there, leaving kisses and bruises behind. They're way beyond that now. 

His phone buzzes in his hand and he chews the inside of his lip as he goes back to the problem at hand. 

Lily: You're a dumbass, but yes. Next one leaves at 3. 

That's not too bad. She doesn't seem like she's going to be ordering a hit anytime soon at least. 

"Well, I don't think she's going to kill me yet, but I have five hours to kill." 

Bewilderingly, Sirius grins at this news. "You wanna hang out?" 

 

Remus has to get his bags out of his room before housekeeping comes and chews him out for not leaving on time, but he returns back to Sirius's to find him still in his same spot. He still hasn't put any clothes on either. He pats the spot next to him on the bed and Remus obeys. 

They spend the morning watching the cooking channel. Surprisingly, Sirius seems to know a thing or two about cooking, which for some reason Remus finds kind of hilarious. He imagines Sirius in a chef's coat and hat, juggling ten different pots at an industrial stove. He entertains Remus further with his commentary about the competitors - That sauce is way too thin, she should've done a puree.

It strikes Remus as strange. The two of them in a sunlit hotel room, lying shoulder to shoulder in an oversized bed, laughing and talking like they've been doing it for ages. It's also nice. He can't remember the last time he enjoyed someone's company so much. It feels good to have another body next to him, someone who leans into his touch and laughs at his stupid jokes. 

The realization of it all makes his palms sweaty and his heart rate speed up, but it also warms him to his core. He really fucking likes Sirius. He likes how easy his smile is in the safety of this hotel room, and how he seems to fit perfectly under Remus's arm. He likes that it feels easy to be this close to him, even if it is a little terrifying. He likes that Sirius stretches up and gives him an exaggerated kiss on the cheek when he makes a joke about the shape of the potatoes on the show their watching. 

When he finally has to leave, he finds himself wondering if Lily would believe that he missed two flights in a row. But, Sirius reminds him and he begrudgingly gets out of bed. 

Sirius walks him to the door, just a few steps away from where they've been wasting away the day. His eyes crinkle a little as he smiles up at Remus. 

For a single terrifying, fleeting moment, he thinks I should tell him. 

Sirius leans in to give him a goodbye kiss. Remus doesn't know what to make of that. He thinks again about just blurting it out. I like you. 

He turns and walks down the hall instead. 

 

When Remus lands back on London soil, he has a message waiting for him. 

Sirius: I've got a whole weekend off in Italy in two weeks

Sirius: Lily's got me staying in this fancy villa 

Remus: Brag much? 

Sirius: shut up

Sirius: do you want to come? 

Sirius: there's a hot tub and a private beach and everything

Remus: I'll think about it. 

Sirius: pleaseeeeee

Sirius: I'll be so bored without you

Remus: Yeah, I'll come. 

Chapter 25: L'idiota va in Italia

Remus hadn't been sure what to expect when he arrived in Italy. Maybe a driver or a text telling him what address to have a taxi take him to. What he absolutely did not expect was to see Sirius himself standing there at the gate dressed in a floral shirt and jean shorts, sunglasses and mischievous smile on his face. 

He lowers the glasses as Remus approaches. "Ciao amore."

They eye roll comes involuntarily. "You're so cultured."

Sirius only laughs and slings an arm around his shoulders - a task made a little awkward given that Remus has a good four inches on him. He's treated to the familiar smell of that cologne and feels himself relax into the touch. 

He guides Remus through a parking lot and over to the most outlandish red convertible he's ever seen. He throws out his arm with a flourish as if introducing a headlining act. 

"This is ridiculous, you know that right?" Remus tosses his bag into the backseat. 

"Did you expect anything else?" 

The wind is too loud to talk as Sirius winds through traffic. Remus is a little in awe at the sight of Florence. The candy-colored buildings tower above them on narrow streets that open into the view of wide piazzas surrounded by ancient arches and columns. It's all so beautiful that he decides he never wants to leave. He can imagine sitting at little cafe tables reading and sipping coffee, wandering the endless streets and being swallowed by the history of the city. 

The smell of saltwater grows stronger as they edge toward the sea. Sirius steers them down an alleyway to a row of more modern houses, set apart by rows of cypress. All the way at the end, he turns into the drive of a tall and thin building made of yellow fresco. 

Sirius leads the way inside, Remus heaving his bag over his shoulder in tow. As soon as the door swings open, he's struck speechless. Sirius looks back at him with a knowing grin. 

"I know, right?" 

"Holy shit." 

It's a straight shot through the house, a view right into the back patio with its hot tub, and the stretch of grass that butts up against a narrow beach. Beyond, it's just blue water and white foam. It's breathtaking. 

"Wait until you see the bedroom," Sirius says with a wink. 

 

The first evening is pure bliss. Sirius pulls Remus into the waves and then onto the sand and then back into the waves. He feels like a kid again, running between dry land and the ocean, lying on oversized beach towels while the sun beats down on them. By the time they leave for dinner, Remus is bone tired. 

They get a table on the patio of a little restaurant and eat the best pasta Remus has ever had. When they return back to the villa, Sirius unearths a bottle of wine and pours two generous glasses full. They finish the whole bottle off before collapsing into bed, arms wound around each other. 

As sleep over takes him, Remus realizes it's not just Italy or Sirius that is leaving him with the warm and fuzzy feeling in his chest. It's the fact that there's no cameras, no concerts, no interviews. It's just them. Sirius's shoulders are relaxed and his smiles aren't forced. Remus hasn't ever seen him so at ease. He doesn't think that he's ever been so at ease. 

Just before he drifts off, that terrifying thought springs up again. I should tell him. Except, maybe it's not so terrifying anymore. 

 

They don't get out of bed until it's nearly noon the next day - and only then to shower. Remus tilts his head back as the water hits his chest, letting his eyes fall shut. Sirius takes it upon himself to wash his hair, lathering up far too much shampoo until suds curl around Remus's ears. 

Sirius is all sharp lines and pale skin blushed with a faint tan under the showerhead. Remus leans into the soft touch of fingers over his scalp. There's a smattering of bruises on his neck, his collarbones, his hips. Remus had been wine drunk and insatiable last night, hungry to leave a mark. And, this morning...well, this morning he just didn't care enough to deny himself the pleasure of adding to the collection. 

"I think my hair is clean now," he says. 

"Are you not enjoying the royal treatment?" Sirius punctuates this with a kiss to his shoulder. 

"Oh, I am," Remus smiles. A shiver runs over his body despite the hot water. "I just figured you might want a turn." 

Sirius only chuckles in response, pulling Remus in for a proper kiss. 

 

That night, after another spectacular dinner and a new bottle of wine, Remus stretches out on one of the sun loungers on the back patio. Sirius joins him and looks skyward. 

"You know I'm named after a star," he says. 

"Yes, I figured that one out." Remus watches his profile, the straight nose turned up like a child in disgust. His mouth tugs at one corner, forming the dangerous smile that Remus has come to know so well. Every time he sees it all he can think about is kissing it. 

"You're in the sky too," Sirius says, matter of fact. He turns his smile to Remus now, eyes sparkling with the reflection of stars. 

"Am I?" 

"Yeah, that really big white one there." He leans in close, over the small gap between their chairs and directs Remus's eyes up at the sky. 

It takes him longer than he'd like to admit before he groans in realization. 

"That was another werewolf joke, wasn't it?" 

Sirius beams and laughs. Remus tries not to smile, but it's impossible in the face of someone who looks so lovely doing it. 

"I hate you, you know?" 

"Sure you do." 

Sirius moves closer, closing the space between them with heavy lidded eyes. He kisses Remus deeply, the easy kind of kiss they've started to share more and more often now. Italy, it seems, has brought out a kind of tenderness in the both of them. Remus finds himself admiring Sirius in quiet moments, leaning in to kiss his cheek or hand or shoulder while they walk along the shops in town. Each time he's met with a soft smile, or Sirius nudging himself further into Remus's body. 

It's all too easy for Remus to slip into this life. He can imagine - really imagine - this as a real thing. He can see himself giving over everything he has for these blissful moments with Sirius. He can almost form the words that are resting on the back of his tongue. 

When they stumble into the bedroom once again, Remus is alight with not only lust, but also a simmering feeling in his chest that never wants to give up. 

I'll tell him, he thinks. Tonight or tomorrow. Before we leave Italy. He'll know by then. 

It's like a practiced dance by now, hands working to pull off t-shirts and unfasten jeans. Remus knows what makes him tick, knows how to twist his wrist just right so that Sirius makes that high-pitched whine he loves so much. He knows where to find the pulse on the column of that pale neck, how to scrape his teeth enough to pull gasping breaths from Sirius's mouth. 

He knows what to expect when he sinks inside of him, but it's still overwhelmingly good. It's still the best he's ever had. He can't imagine anyone else for the rest of his life. 

Sated and sweaty, Sirius folds himself under Remus's arm atop rumpled sheets. Remus pushes his hair away from his forehead. 

"God, you're good," Sirius sighs. His eyes are closed, but his mouth is in a sleepy smile. "I think you're the best fake boyfriend I've ever had. I'm going to tell Lily to give you a raise on your next contract if you keep fucking me this good." 

Ice shoots through Remus's chest. His blood is replaced with lead as the weight of those words bear down on his body. 

"You are going to sign another contract, aren't you?" 

Contracts. Raises. Fake boyfriend. 

It's everything Remus has tried so hard to ignore these past few days. He'd gotten so wrapped up in what he feels for Sirius that he never once considered that this is all part of the job for him. That maybe Sirius hasn't thought a single time about what all the flirting and fucking and kissing means beyond convenience. 

Sure, they're closer now. Remus was there to hold Sirius when he was crying, he stayed the morning afterward and cheered him up. But, that's what friends do, isn't it? Friends that fuck, but still only friends. No, worse. Paid friends who fuck. 

For the first time Remus feels used. The reality that Sirius has never considered what they have as something real. He wants to pay Remus more to keep up this charade. He wants to give Remus money so that they can keep fucking on his management's dime. He's been selling his body without even knowing it. 

No, that's no true. He did know it. He just didn't want to admit it to himself. He was too caught up in how Sirius makes his heart race and his stomach flutter. All of his critical thinking skills went out the fucking window. He did this to himself. There is no one else to blame. 

"Rem?" Sirius nudges him, looking up expectantly. 

"What - oh, yeah. Yeah, 'course I'll sign another contract." 

His smile is forced, but Sirius doesn't seem to notice. 

"Good," he grins. "I need another shower, are you coming?" 

Sirius pushes himself out of bed, looking over his shoulder. For a single, weak moment, Remus considers saying yes. It's hard to form the word no when Sirius Black is standing naked beside your bed and inviting you to shower together. 

Instead, he stands his ground. "Nah, I think I'm just gonna pass out." 

"Suit yourself," Sirius shrugs. Remus watches his ass as he saunters toward the bathroom and scolds himself for it. 

The moment he's alone he takes a shaky breath. Heat builds behind his eyes, pricking them with such force that Remus is afraid he won't be able to ward off tears. He takes another breath and steels himself. He can't cry. He can't. If he doesn't mean anything to Sirius besides a good lay and decent company, he can't be caught bawling his eyes out about it. He can cry when he's alone. 

 

Around two a.m, Remus sneaks out of the villa. He orders a car to take him to the airport two days before his scheduled flight. He pays out of pocket for the next ticket home and scrolls though his phone to get ahead of the messages he's sure to get. He blocks Sirius on every social media platform and sends a single text to Lily. 

Remus: I can't sign another contract.

He turns his phone off before anyone can try to contact him. 

 

It's not until he's home, curled into a pathetic ball on his couch, his head in Marlene's lap, that he finally lets himself cry. She strokes his hair, not saying anything, not asking any questions. Remus guesses she probably already knows what's happened. She always seems to be one step ahead of him anyway. 

"I loved him," is all he can croak out. 

Marlene shushes him like an infant and keeps stroking his hair. 

"I know Rem," she says, "I know."

Chapter 26: The Inbetween: Sirius

The first few weeks were the hardest. Sirius still had a handful more shows to finish off the European leg of his tour, and each one took a little piece of him that he would never get back. He would come off stage and lean against the wall, chugging water and mopping sweat off his forehead. No one else would be there. The backstage crew would already be working on packing up their equipment so that they could get the hell out of there and Sirius would be alone. 

He'd played plenty of shows without Remus, of course. But now he couldn't pull out his phone to make up for his absence. He'd already tried a dozen times but nothing would go through. There was no one left to tell about the guy in the mosh pit who'd headbanged his glasses off, or the sign that said I sold my left kidney for tickets. 

The fact Sirius hadn't even been all that surprised to wake up to an empty bed in Italy was even more depressing. How many times had Remus left him before? How many times had he pulled through and convinced himself that he was alright? How many more times would he hurt like this? 

Sirius had made a promise to himself sometime in his teen years when life was particularly shitty. He wouldn't ever rely on someone else. Not financially, not emotionally, not even physically. Everyone was to be kept an an arm's length so that when they left it wouldn't be so noticable. The only exception was James - and that was only because the bastard wouldn't leave him alone. And, of course, Lily. The two were a package deal - get one overbearing, borderline parental friend, get one free. 

But, then Remus Lupin went and walked through the studio door that godforsaken day in November. It took Sirius months to admit it to himself, but he was done for the moment he looked at him with those honey brown eyes. 

He was in denial when they kissed in that janitor's closet in London. He was in denial when he was sitting on the other side of that hotel room door in Paris, wanting nothing more than to open it up and sock Remus upside the jaw then kiss him stupid because he didn't know how to stay mad at him. He was burying his feelings somewhere between his stomach and intestines when they slept together after the awards show. 

Remus had left then, too. Right afterward. Sirius didn't sleep at all that night. He couldn't figure out why he suddenly felt so alone in a hotel room when he'd basically been living in them for years while on tour. 

Maybe it was Iceland, when Remus pulled him aside before Sirius could even say hello and kissed him so hard that he could hardly remember the lyrics to his own songs twenty minutes later. Or maybe it was Greece, when Remus had shown up wearing a baseball cap for the first time and Sirius had thought no one had ever looked so good while simultaneously looking like a father of three.

It didn't matter. Somewhere along the way Sirius forgot that promise to himself and let Remus get as close as he wanted. Germany was the final straw. Remus had seen him manic and plastered after his mother died, he'd seen Sirius freeze up in the face of paparazzi, but the moment he saw Sirius breakdown after his brother had called... Well, there's no going back from there. 

He hadn't wanted James or even Lily in that moment, who both would've understood far better than Remus. He didn't even want to get drunk or run off and pretend he didn't exist for a while. He'd only wanted Remus. Those long arms that are so awkward half the time, but seem to know exactly what they're doing when they're wrapped around Sirius's body. He'd wanted to breathe in the scent of his cologne that he knew Marlene picked out for him. He'd wanted Remus to tell him it was alright because he probably wouldn't believe anyone else at that moment. 

And Remus had. He'd done exactly what Sirius needed him to. He made him forget about his brother and inheritance and the fact that approximately ten thousand people were currently waiting to see him at peak performance. 

He'd done everything right up until he'd started to leave. Something cracked in Sirius then. He couldn't stand it anymore. He didn't understand why Remus was always leaving him - why everyone was always leaving him. And, yes, Remus had stayed in the end, but that was only because Sirius asked him to. He wanted, just once, for someone to stay because they wanted to. 

Maybe Remus had never felt anything for him at all. That would be the easiest explanation. That was something Sirius could accept because it made the most sense. But there was more to it than that. Remus was making the first move most of the time there at the end. He was the one who urged Sirius away from other people so they could be alone. He sent the first text after he'd returned home from a show. He had looked at Sirius with something he'd never seen in someone's eyes before. 

That left the only other explanation: Sirius had screwed it up. This was his fault, and now he was paying the price.

So, in Italy, when he woke up alone for the millionth time, Sirius had simply rolled over and shut his eyes again. 

Lily texted him to explain what happened. It was probably better that she wasn't there to witness his meltdown when reality sunk in. He would probably never see Remus Lupin again. He'd gone and done the one thing he'd sworn not to. He fell in love with someone who didn't love him back. 

When he returned home from tour he locked himself away in his big house that he hated more by the minute. He tried his bedroom first, but one look at the bed sent a flood of memories that all circulated around Remus. The entire first floor was off limits for that reason. He ended up in one of the spare rooms that had been remodeled into a makeshift home studio years ago. 

The place hardly ever got used anymore, but now Sirius was fortifying it with all the essentials; a pillow, blanket, a bottle of whiskey. 

For nearly a week he didn't leave except to use the bathroom or scrounge around for something to eat when the hunger pains got so bad he could hardly stand. He played guitar until his fingers were raw and red, then piano until his hands cramped up. He scribbled lyrics into an old notebook he found shoved in the room's closet. All of it was shit, but it was something to do. 

He might've tried to record something, but his throat was raw from crying and his voice was hoarse from not speaking for so long. 

 

Sometime in the middle of July, the doorbell rang. Sirius knew who it would be, even if his phone had been off for weeks now. James was on the doorstep in his usual workout getup. He was smiling the concerned, fatherly smile that Sirius knows so well. 

"You've got to get out of this house, mate," he'd said. 

"No," Sirius croaked back in his pitifully weak voice. 

James had looked down on him with his brow furrowed and mouth downturned. 

"Listen, you don't have to talk about it. I won't push you. But, you do have to reenter the world sometime. I'm worried about you." 

"I'm fine," Sirius lied. The last time he felt anything other than miserable was a lifetime ago in a villa looking right over the ocean. 

"No, you're not," James said. "Come run some drills with me, for old time's sake. I have something to tell you." 

 

Chapter 27: The Inbetween: Remus

Notes:

Special double update bc I'm not THAT cruel.

The first little while is hard to remember. There was a lot of lying around, a lot of ice cream, a lot of reality tv. Remus didn't talk much. Everything became background noise. Marlene filled the silence, but Remus had no idea what she was saying half the time. His brain had turned to mush. 

She had to kick the side of the sofa three times before Remus lifted his head to see what she wanted. 

"Get up. No more moping," she said. 

Remus had made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a whimper. 

"C'mon, we have places to be and shit to do." 

He'd thrown a blanket over his head like an onry child then. Marlene snatched it off. 

"Remus Lupin, get your ass up." 

Remus got up. Marlene handed him a clean pair of jeans to put on and found a beanie to hide his rat's nest of hair. She didn't tell him anything, but that was probably because Remus didn't care enough to ask any questions. He dutifully followed along behind her as they took the tube downtown. 

They emerged on a familiar block. The university was only a few streets away. Marlene led him in that direction. She stopped in front of a brick building and let herself inside. They rode the elevator up to the third floor before Remus considered that he had no idea why he was here. 

"Where are we?" He finally asked. 

"I found you a new flat." 

"What?" 

Marlene only took him down the hall a little ways and through a door that was slightly ajar. The flat was empty, but a stack of pamphlets and business cards made it clear that the place had been traipsed through more than once that day. 

"I'm going to get you a plant for this window," she said, wandering through the open space that seemed to be a living room. "And Cas has some friends that can help us move the furniture up here." 

"Marlene, what?" Remus said again.

She looked at him with a smile that was more pity than anything else. 

"Rem, you needed a little push," she shrugs. "All you have to do is sign the lease and the place is yours. You can start classes next month and have all the bookshelves you desire here." 

Remus looked around the place. It wasn't even a studio. It had a whole separate bedroom, even a dishwasher. The big window Marlene wanted buy a plant for would have to be cleaned, but the rest of the flat was in pretty good condition. It was as good a place as any. Remus had the money for it, even if the thought of money and how he had made it sent a wave of nausea through him. 

"Ok," he said. 

 

Two weeks into his first semester, Remus comes home from his last class to find a pile of mail on the floor. Marlene had been slipping it under his door if he was out because he hadn't gotten around to changing his address. It's the usual - junk, coupons, credit card offers. He almost throws the whole stack away before he notices the ivory envelope addressed to him in neat calligraphy.   

You're Invited, the card on the inside says. Beneath it is a picture of Lily and James dressed to the nines in a field of flowers. Remus drops it before he can read the rest of the information. 

He vaguely remembers a save the date stuck to the fridge at Marlene's. He guesses Lily only sent them the one because they lived together. Maybe he had convinced himself that he wasn't actually invited. This one has his name on it, though. 

Remus leaves it there on his kitchen counter. He can't look at it anymore. He can't think about Lily or James right now -  not when he's still barely holding it together the rest of the time. 

He goes to the living room and digs through his bag for something to take his mind off of the horrible thing in his kitchen. He has some readings for one of lit classes that aren't due for another week, but he figures now is as good a time as ever to get a head start. 

His whole experience living alone has been head starts. He shops for groceries when he has plenty because sitting around gives him too much time to think. He's been getting all of his classwork done days before it's due. He's been to the secondhand book store down the road so many times that the cashier knows him by name. 

Even so, curled up on the new sofa that Marlene helped him pick out and lug up the stairs, reading Tolstoy and trying to forget about everything else, that damn invitation is burning a hole in the back of his head. Frustrated, he gets up and shoves it into a drawer. He considers throwing it away, but he can't bring himself to it. 

Back on the couch, his favorite lamp illuminating the pages of his textbook, Remus forces himself to read again. 

It's not two minutes before his phone starts to vibrate. He pushes down his annoyance because it's probably Marlene and she's the best distraction he could ask for right now. 

But it's not. Of course it's not. Lily Evans is the name his phone displays. He can only stare as it rings, the call waiting to be answered. When it stops, Remus lets out a breath, his heart pounding hard in his chest. 

A notification pops up, informing him he has a new voicemail before he can even set the phone down. Against his better judgement, Remus presses play. 

"Hey, Remus. It's Lily. Look, I don't know what happened between you and Sirius and I really don't like that you two haven't been talking, but I'm trying not to get involved. Either way, James and I sent out invitations this week, and...and well, I really hope you'll come. You were never an employee, you know that. I love you Rem. It'd really mean a lot to me and James if you came. Anyway...that's all. Bye."

Remus stares at his phone again. It's too much. He can't go to the wedding. It's obvious why he can't go. It would be suicide. It would open all of the delicate stitching he's managed around his wounds. 

He looks at the time. Seven. He needs a drink. Marlene said he should get out more anyway. 

 

It's hard to make friends at university when you're at least four years older than the rest of your peers. Remus can't help but see kids every time he looks at his classmates. That's why he goes out of his way to avoid the pubs they frequent. The place he chooses tonight is where the regular crowd is around thirty and the most popular drink is wine instead of vodka. 

He sits at a barstool and orders a pint. Being out doesn't make him feel any better, but at least he's not having a stare down with a piece of glossy cardstock anymore. 

His glass is half empty when someone slides into the seat next to him. Remus glances up. It's a woman with short dark hair and heavy makeup around her blue eyes. Her nose is long and straight and much too familiar, but Remus pushes that thought down. 

She orders a beer and takes a long drink before nudging Remus with the tip of her shoe. 

"Long week, huh?" 

Her smile isn't mischievous or glinting with perfection. Remus is relieved. 

"Something like that," he answers. He takes another drink. 

"I'm Andie, by the way." 

"Remus."

"Lovely to meet you Remus," she smiles again and raises her glass. "To drinking away our problems." 

"Here, here," Remus clinks her pint with hers. 

He can feel his lips tugging a little at the corners. It sends a pang through his chest. The woman keeps talking and Remus keeps talking back. He orders another round for the two of them and actually laughs when she gets a mustache of foam on her upper lip. 

Andie is pretty. She knows how a hold a conversation and she has a habit of running her hand through her hair while she's thinking. Remus is enjoying himself. He could probably give her his number, ask if she wants to get dinner sometime. 

"Oh! I love this song!" Andie suddenly reaches for Remus's arm, grinning widely. "Do you want to dance?" 

It takes a moment for it to sink in. Remus hadn't expected her to touch him. He's been tuning out the music for a while now, too, so he has to focus to hear it. And, what else could it be but a Sirius Black song? 

Remus is sick to his stomach. This is wrong. Every part of it is wrong. He should be enjoying himself. He should be happy to take a pretty woman's hand and dance the night away with her. He should not feel so overcome with guilt and shame. 

"Oh, uh..." Remus feigns checking his phone for the time. "I should probably get out of here, but it was really nice to meet you." 

"Right," Andie says.

She looks mildly disappointed and that just makes Remus feel worse. He can't even keep his internalized depression to himself.

"Can I at least give you my number?" There's that sweet smile again. 

"Sure." 

He watches Andie scribble down a series of digits onto a cocktail napkin and hand it over, still smiling. Remus nods and forces his own smile, and leaves without another word. 

 

Back at his flat, Remus is relieved the shut the door behind him. He goes to the kitchen, driven by some unseen force, to the drawer with the invitation. Sitting on the floor, he looks at the photo of Lily and James. Their smiles are so soft, their hands clasped so easily. Love oozes out of them. Remus wonders if he ever looked at Sirius like that - if Sirius ever looked at him like that. 

The thought is agonizing. A moment later and he's doubled over on his kitchen tiles, painful sobs racking his body. It's the first time he's felt the entirety of the loss and heartbreak Sirius Black has left him with. It's a painful release, but Remus is powerless to stop it. 

For one aching moment, Remus wonders if he ever loved Sirius at all, because surely love doesn't feel like this. 

 

Chapter 28: Two Dumbasses and a Wedding

Notes:

Y'all, I swear I tried to post this on time but AO3 was being glitchy and wouldn't let me.

Remus agonizes over the wedding for weeks. He doesn't want to let Lily down, but he can't bear the idea of being somewhere so surrounded by love with Sirius present. A happily ever after has always been just out of reach for him. He can't imagine being ok when Sirius is just on the other side of the room. 

It's Marlene, as always, who tells him to get his head out of his ass. She takes him out to get a haircut and a new tie. She tells him to stop being so dramatic, but she also squeezes his hand when they pass the record store that's promoting a special edition Sirius Black vinyl. 

He'll carpool with Marlene and Dorcas to the wedding. They promise to be by his side the whole night, and that they'll be ready to take him home whenever he wants. Reguardless, Remus is still shaking with anxiety as they pull into the parking lot. 

The wedding is outdoors. It's a clearing just a little ways into a forest, and the trees are dressed in fairy lights. Even the chairs, lined up in neat rows, are decked out in baby's breath and peonies. Everything is very floral, very bright, and the whole crowd of guests is beaming. 

Remus slouches into a chair in the back row. Lily had told them they could sit near the front, but Remus told Marlene and Cas that he didn't want to be that close to the ceremony. He makes them put a two seat buffer between him and aisle too. 

A sweet, slow song plays as the wedding party makes their procession. Remus recognizes Mary among the bridesmaids, and a few vaguely familiar men as they pass by. And, of course, the best man. He couldn't blend in if he tried. His hair is too long, his face perfectly chiseled like a greek statue, and his suit fits him like a glove. 

Sirius doesn't even see him - or at least he doesn't seem to. There's no reaction on his face as they wait for Lily to make her appearance. He's beaming right next to James, nudging him occasionally and saying something quietly in his ear. 

It's a beautiful ceremony, really. Remus even gets choked up. It might have more to do with the fact that he has a full view of the only person he's ever felt any kind of love towards while his two estranged friends vow their lives to each other, but he'd rather not think about that. 

 

The crowd convenes under canvas tents lit by lanterns in the dusk for cocktail hour. Marlene serves him a "Lily", one of the specialty drinks from the open bar. She and Dorcas are a stunning pair in Marlene's light blue sundress and Cas's coral set. They're glowing and smiling at each other the way new couples do at weddings, imagining that someday it'll be them that are being toasted to. 

Remus is annoyed by it, and annoyed at himself for being annoyed. Marlene is happy. She's his best friend. He should be happy for her - with her - but everytime he catches sight of someone with dark hair he wants to curse the whole idea of love and happiness. He's bitter and depressed and trying his damn hardest not to be. 

Some of his sour mood dissipates with his drink. By the time James and Lily are making their grand entrance as husband and wife his smile isn't even forced. Marlene stands between him and Cas, linking her arms through both of theirs. She whistles for the couple and Cas laughs. Remus is less annoyed and more so just depressed as he watches the first dance. 

When a man over a microphone invites the rest of the wedding guests to join in, Marlene is the first to try to drag him to the dancefloor. 

"I'm not in the mood to dance," he tells her. 

She rolls her eyes, but doesn't push it. 

Remus finds an empty table at the edge of the party and slumps into his chair. He's on his second "Lily" of the night and his head is starting to get a little fuzzy. He vaguely wonders how strong the sweet drink is, and then realizes that might be the point of it. Unsuspecting at the first sip, but very dangerous the more you down. The "James" is probably sharp with alcohol from a foot away. 

He scans the crowd from his secluded corner. James is dancing with a woman that Remus can only assume is his mother from their matching grins. Lily is twirling with two older people who must be her own parents. Remus tries to imagine someday dancing with his own mother and father, his body buoyant with joy, some other person nearby who's just as ecstatic as he is. It's hard to see himself being that happy at all as of late. 

Then, there, near the table reserved for the couple of honor, is the source of Remus's heartache. He's leaning in to talk to someone, though Remus can't see who. The acidic taste of jealous floods his mouth, then the deep ache in his chest that's become so familiar. The crowd shifts out of his sightline and Remus can see that it was only a woman holding a flower girl on her hip. It doesn't matter. Remus has no right to jealousy anymore - nor did he really ever. 

Music flows seamlessly from upbeat throwbacks to slow love songs and then back again. Remus gets another drink and tries to keep track of Sirius. He tells himself that it's for his own protection - that he needs to be sure he won't be cornered, but it's really just self-inflicted torture. He knows that Sirius has a skill in putting on a brave face, but his easy smiles only make Remus feel worse. It confirms his fears. He never meant enough to Sirius to even warrant a blip in his perfect life. 

He pushes back his drink. It's only serving to make it harder to keep an eye on Sirius and giving his depressive mood more fuel. He's switched to water by the time Marlene makes another appearance. She's flushed from dancing and finishes off Remus's half-empty "Lily" without asking. 

"It's a wedding, Rem," she says. "You can't sit here and mope all night." 

Remus gives her a hard look. She raises her eyebrows like a mother appalled by the fact that their child is talking back. 

"It'll make you feel better," she tries again. "If you can pretend to be happy here in front of him, you can pretend to be happy anywhere." 

"Gee, thanks, Marls." Remus rolls his eyes, his bad mood back in full force now. 

Marlene sighs and falls into the seat next to him. "Ok, fine. Not fair," she concedes. "But I hate seeing you so upset. I just want to help." 

"I know," Remus says. He wishes Marlene could help. He's never had a proper breakup - not that this could really be considered that. It feels close enough. It hurts enough. He thought that ice cream and bad TV was supposed to fix it. 

"One song?" She asks, batting her eyes to entice him. 

"I'm alright," Remus shakes his head. "Don't let me ruin your night." 

Marlene looks disappointed but she leaves it at that. Remus sips his water and resigns himself to his solitary table and people watching. 

 

It's nearing eleven and Remus is desperate to go home. He hasn't seen Marlene or Dorcas for at least an hour and he's a little pissed about it. They're his ride and now they've abandoned him. It's a childish thing to get mad about. They're at a wedding after all. There is no curfew for a wedding. 

Twenty minutes ago, the guests saw off James and Lily to their honeymoon. They left in a car decked out with Just married messages and streamers off the bumper. It was entirely cliched and completely fitting for a couple as picture perfect as they are. 

Remus is still standing near the little dirt pathway that the car drove off from. It's quieter over here, the party still raging on behind him but dimmed by the distance. Here Remus can hear crickets and smell the grass. The night is pleasantly warm, only a slight cool breeze that keeps the dancing guests from sweating through their tuxedos and dresses. It's a reprieve, but all Remus really wants is to return to his flat and remain in bed for the rest of the weekend. 

This night was his final farewell to this part of his life. He might see Lily or James again in passing because Marlene will stay in touch. Other than that, he intends to never revisit his memories of Sirius or his brief time in the outskirts of his spotlight. He will no longer be the trophy boyfriend of a celebrity beloved by millions. He will just be Remus, the university student. It's a little sad, but it's mostly a relief to feel like he's tied up all loose ends. He doesn't have to feel quite so guilty about the way he left things now. 

Remus  is so lost in thought, mourning his own life, that he almost doesn't hear it. It's quiet but unmistakable. The grass has begun to cool in the night air and provides the footsteps with a soft crunch. 

Hair raises on the back of his neck, but he doesn't turn. He doesn't have to. He'd know that cologne anywhere. 

"Remus?" He says, voice quiet.

Remus isn't sure if he wants to throw up or make a run for it. He doesn't answer, frozen half in shock. Of all the things he thought he would have to field tonight, this was not one of them. He didn't prepare for this. He hadn't even thought it was a remote possibility. 

"Rem?" Sirius says again. His voice sounds a little thinner now, shaking maybe. 

Remus swallows, looking at the sky, then back down to his feet. He's being rude, he knows. Or maybe rude isn't the right word for it. How is one supposed to behave when their not-ex tries to talk to them at a wedding after two months of silence. 

"I need to talk to you." His voice is definitely strained, like it's taking a great effort to force the words out of his throat. 

Slowly, Remus turns. 

Sirius always looks good, but in the moonlight, in a perfectly tailored suit? It's unfair. Remus drinks him in despite himself. His heart is thudding in his chest and his palms feel sweaty. When he meets Sirius's eyes, silver in the moonlight, they're shiny with moisture. Remus doesn't know if it's tears or something else. He doesn't know what would be preferable. He has to dig deep to find a reason to hold his ground. 

"You left me," Sirius says. 

Remus grimaces. All those times he left Sirius, and all the times he didn't, he had thought he was doing the right thing. He made himself scarce so that Sirius wouldn't have to deal with him. He only stayed when he was asked to. He thought that not overstepping boundaries would make things easier on both of them. He left in Italy for his own sake. He couldn't keep following Sirius's lead when it kept taking him places he didn't want to go. 

Still, the raw hurt in Sirius's words make Remus feel awful. He caused this. 

"I - I don't know why you left," Sirius continues. "Well, no I think I might." He looks down at the grass, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. "But I never wanted you to." When he meets Remus eyes again, he's sure it's tears he's seeing. 

Remus feels lost, unable to speak or move as he tries to figure this out. He doesn't understand why Sirius came to him. He'd made it clear that he didn't want to talk to him. Now, he's standing here telling Remus that he shouldn't have left? Why? So that they could continue their not-relationship? Part of Remus is angry, half ready to spring into an argument. The other part of him is still confused as to why Sirius is crying. 

"Do you know why Lily hired you?" He's not looking at Remus as he speaks. He's staring at his hands. "I've sold millions of records, I've played shows for hundreds of thousands of people, but it still wasn't enough. Nobody knew me. And I liked it that way. I don't want to get close to people, I don't want them to know things about me." 

He pauses, looks at Remus, looks somewhere above him. He sucks in a shaky breath. 

"But you..." He laughs wetly, sounding closer to a sob than an actual laugh. 

Remus feels his fingers twitch. He wants to go to him, to do what he can to make him feel better. He wants to wrap Sirius up in his arms and not ask any questions. He just wants to make it better. 

"You just showed up one day and were exactly what I needed. You saw me freak out over cameras and bullshit phone calls and lose my mind after my mother died, and you still stayed. You didn't even ask questions. You just let me come to you and you made it easier." 

Remus is frozen. The pieces are all there. They're starting to come together, but Remus is having a hard time accepting the image they make. It doesn't make sense. 

"What I'm trying to say," another uneven breath, "is that I never wanted you to sign another contract. I wish you never had in the first place. I wish we'd met under any other circumstances, because I would've done things a whole lot differently."

Remus's mouth is trying to form words, but nothing will come out. His feet inch forward one tiny step. 

"I've been fucking miserable these past few months, and if I don't tell you this now I don't know if I'll ever get the chance again. I fell in love with you, Remus. I'm in love with you. I probably was the whole damn time, I was just too stupid to see it. Even when I wanted to hate you - even when it seemed like I did hate you - I didn't. I couldn't. All I ever wanted was for you to stay instead of leaving. I know I should've told you - I was going to tell you, but I was so scared that you'd leave and wouldn't come back and I just couldn't deal with that. I couldn't take the heartbreak." 

Sirius laughs again, another unhumorous sound that's choked with tears. He wipes at his eyes and settles his gaze on Remus. 

"I ended up with a broken heart anyway, I guess," he shrugs. "So, I figured I have nothing left to lose, and -" 

Remus's body is moving before his mind can completely catch up. His hands find Sirius's jaw, the sharp scrape of day-old stubble and the severe angle down to his neck. He cuts off whatever Sirius's next words were going to be and kisses him. It's like pure relief. 

Maybe it's because Remus has been so absolutely heartbroken for the past few months, or because he's been denying himself this for so long, but it's better than any other kiss they've ever shared. Finally, everything Remus has pushed to the pits of his psyche, forced himself to forget about, comes flooding to the surface. He can feel Sirius wrapping his arms around his waist, leaning in and melting into it. 

He pulls back to breathe, just long enough to say four words: "I love you too, dumbass."

 

Chapter 29: It's About Time

Remus is reminded of his birthday six months ago as he and Sirius enter the townhouse. Sirius leads the way upstairs again, but this time he's grasping Remus's hand behind him. There's the same giddy, heightened energy bubbling between them. Only this time, there are no undertones of guilt that Remus is trying to drown out with the taste of Sirius's mouth. 

He stops them on the landing, just like last time, grabbing Sirius around the waist and pulling him in for a heated kiss. Remus doesn't ever want to stop kissing him. It's all they've been doing for the past half hour - kissing as they got into Sirius's car, kissing at red lights and stop signs, kissing across the center console before they went inside - but it's still not enough. Remus doesn't think that's ever going to change. 

Remus pins him against the wall, hands and mouth wandering as he tries to hold as much of Sirius at once as he can manage. The main difference between this time and the last - the one Remus can't stop smiling about - is that between kisses and gasping breaths, I love you is whispered over and over. He feels compelled to say it, to repeat it when Sirius says it back. They're making up for lost time. Remus doesn't want to stop saying it, or kissing or touching, because it still doesn't feel real. He needs to remind himself that it is. 

It takes ten times as long as it should for them get down the hall to Sirius's bedroom. He flicks on the light next to his bed and Remus is greeted by the sight of his flushed face and a swollen-lipped smile. He steps forward to get his hands back on those hips and touches their foreheads together. 

"I know you hate to wear them," he says. "But have I ever told you how fucking good you look in a suit?" 

Sirius scoffs and winds his arms around Remus's neck in response. "Shut up," he mutters, and pulls him down into bed. 

Remus grins as he lands on top of him, propping himself up on his elbows. "Nope. Every cheesy compliment and thought that I've ever had is going to come out now. You can't stop it." 

Sirius groans, turning his face to the side. Remus can't be sure if he's blushing or not because they're both already pink in the face from making out for so long. It feels strange to see him react this way. Sirius usually soaks up attention and compliments like a wilting plant. 

Remus leans in to kiss his neck, his jaw, instead since his lips aren't an option. "You're beautiful. I love you," he murmurs against his skin. 

Sirius makes a soft noise and turns back to capture Remus's mouth on his own. "You're ridiculous. I love you," he answers, And Remus feels like he could fucking fly. 

It's a slow process to start to shed their suits. They keep getting distracted as new inches of bare skin are exposed. Remus feels the need to acquaint himself with each section of Sirius's body all over again. He doesn't want to miss anything. 

"I love your tattoos, too," he says when Sirius's chest is bare. His own shirt hangs open and half unbuttoned around him. 

"Yeah?" Sirius is breathless now. His chest is flushed like the rest of him and heaving. 

Remus finds the serpent, then a smattering of stars over the edge of his ribcage. He traces them all, leaning down to follow the line of his finger with his lips. Sirius shivers, goosebumps rising on his arms. Remus connects moles and ink, drawing up a whole new galaxy because one single star is not enough to contain Sirius Black. He wants to worship this body, this man. He wants to fall to his knees and give him everything he could ever ask for. 

Lower, where the vines curl up over Sirius's waistband and across his hip bones, Remus can't help but scrape his teeth. "I think this one's my favorite." 

"I wonder why." Sirius is back to sarcastic, his hands stroking over Remus's hair. Their eyes meet across the spanse of his torso, both shiny and dark. 

"And the moons on your back," Remus continues. "And, this one." He runs his fingertips along the length of the serpent again. "You sent me a picture once where I could just see a bit of it and I lost my mind." 

Sirius huffs another laugh. "If I knew suits and tattoos were your thing I would've got you a lot sooner." 

Remus smiles, but his heart aches. They've wasted so much time. He kisses Sirius again to make up for it, hands skimming over his sides. He's held this body so many times, but none have ever felt as important as this one. 

He works his way back down Sirius's body, leaving a line with his lips. He pulls at his belt until it gives way for Remus to start on his trousers. He can't stop staring as Sirius lies back, finally free from the rest of his clothes and even more stunning than Remus can ever remember. He glows under the lamplight. 

He returns to the vines, kissing each hip, each leaf, leaving red marks in his wake as Sirius squirms. 

"You're torturing me," he whines. 

Remus can only smile against his skin. He decides they've both been waiting for this for long enough, and focuses his attention between his legs instead. 

Sirius makes a strained sound that goes right to Remus's cock as he wraps his fingers around him. They've definitely waited long enough. He licks a single flat stripe up the underside of him and is rewarded with another groan.

He takes the tip into his mouth, swirling his tongue. Sirius gasps and winds his fingers deeper into Remus's hair. 

"Oh god," he breathes.

Remus swallows down as much as he can take, revelling in the sensation of being so full of Sirius. He hums a little to himself, and Sirius arches into it. His legs bend up at the knee and fall open wide, inviting Remus to do his worst. 

Remus bobs his head and twists his wrist over him. He can feel Sirius's pulse against his tongue. A drop of precome floods the back of his mouth and Remus swallows around him. He hollows his cheeks and picks up the pace. Never once in the past few months did he let himself believe that he might get to experience this again. Now that he is, he can't seem to restrain himself. 

"Jesus, Rem," Sirius gasps. Remus can only groan in response because he feels like he's the one getting sucked off right now. His own cock is straining painfully in his trousers and each time Sirius butts up against the back of his throat the heat in his stomach notches up. 

It's only out of fear of coming prematurely that he backs off. He sits back on his knees and tries to catch his breath, which is not an easy feat given the image he's faced with. Sirius props himself up on one elbow tugs at his shirt until it comes untucked. When it's fallen off his shoulders, he reaches up and runs his hands over his chest. The feel of his fingertips is like fire on his skin. 

Remus reaches between them to stroke Sirius slowly again. He's pulled forward by a hand on the back of his neck for yet another searing kiss. His thighs clamp down around Remus's hips, back arching upward. 

"Let me - let me -" Sirius stammers. 

Remus pulls back a fraction of an inch and Sirius reaches toward his nightstand. He hands Remus the bottle he'd unearthed and falls back to the pillows. His legs open again. Remus's mouth is dry with the display. 

A moment later, with slicked fingers pressed between his legs, Remus hovers over him again, nose buried in his neck. Sirius makes a needy sound as Remus pushes inside of him. He tilts his head away to give Remus better access to the straining cords in his neck. 

He's tight around Remus's fingers, thighs quivering a little. Remus presses in a little further, up to the second knuckle as Sirius starts to relax. He turns his head to meet Remus's lips in a fervent kiss. His whole body is strung tight beneath Remus, one hand grasping his hip, the other around the back of his neck. 

Remus eases his fingers in further, scissoring them now as Sirius gasps into his mouth. Every sensation, every sound has been turned up ten notches. That intensity that Remus has become so familiar with when Sirius is involved feels like it's electrifying the very air in the room. He's rigid with it, trying to restrain himself as he tries to take it all in. 

He's nearly as out of breath as Sirius as he begins to pump his fingers in and out. The drag of it makes him want to moan like he's already fucking him. It's not hard to imagine. He's already on edge with the thought of it. 

Sirius gives a little nod as Remus adds a third finger. He arches up into it now, legs open wide. 

"God, I love you," Remus mutters, not really meaning to, as he watches his fingers disappear inside of him. 

Sirius huffs a little, hips tilting further up. He opens his mouth to say something, but Remus crooks his fingers up and all that comes out is another wanton moan. He can't help but smirk just a little. 

"Don't," Sirius gasps. "Not yet." 

Remus takes one more moment to admire the scene. His fingers are buried to the last knuckle inside of him, and his cock is a deep red and leaking against his stomach. He's once again in disbelief that this is actually happening. 

He stands back to rid himself of the rest of his clothes while Sirius produces a condom. He kneels back between his legs as he rolls it on. Even the light touch of his own hand is enough to make him grit his teeth with how turned on he is. Sirius watches him with wide eyes and Remus has a feeling that neither of them are going to last very long. 

Sirius pulls him down as he presses against him. He touches their foreheads together as Remus inches inside, mouth falling open in a silent cry. The tight heat is enough to make Remus squeeze his eyes shut as he tries not to come on the spot. 

"Oh, fuck," Sirius says when Remus has finally bottomed out. His legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into his back. 

Remus can only groan back. Any verbal skills he once possessed have left him now. All he can hear is his own heartbeat and all he can feel is Sirius baring down around him. 

Tentatively, he starts to move, doing everything in his power to stave off his orgasm just a little longer. Sirius throws his head back against the pillows and tilts his whole body up toward him. He's curved like a bow, enough for Remus to slip a hand under his back and pull him closer. He bites at his neck, licking over the splotches of red that are already blooming there. Heat is already coiling his stomach, and his own legs feel weak and he shoves forward again and again. 

Remus changes the angle, just a fraction, and Sirius howls. He clenches almost painfully around him, but Remus doesn't miss a beat. He keeps at it, clenching his jaw as he tries to ignore the fact that he's on a fucking hair trigger. 

"Don't - don't stop," Sirius stammers, like Remus could even fathom that right now. 

"Fuck," he gasps profoundly. It's the only word he's capable of forming at the moment.

Sirius comes with a moan so obscene that Remus is sure he'll never forget it. He goes tense all over as warmth spills over both their stomachs, then melts back into the bed. Remus holds him up, one hand still pinned beneath his back, and follows him over the edge. 

He might moan or say something, but his hearing is overtaken by the sound of rushing blood, and his vision goes momentarily blurry. All that he is aware of is Sirius's body beneath him, so soft and sharp and warm and perfect. 

When his vision returns, it's Sirius's sleepy, pleased smile that greets him. His dark hair frames him like a halo on the white pillowcase. He looks utterly angelic, all sated and relaxed like that. Remus smiles back, wondering if he looks just as blissed out. 

They both grimace as he pulls out. Sirius splays his limbs wide like a starfish as Remus goes to throw away the condom. When he returns, he's greeted with open arms. 

It feels easy to wrap together like this, Sirius's head on his chest, their legs overlapping each other. They should've been doing this the whole goddamn time. 

Remus wants to say it out loud, to apologize for not staying more often and taking advantage of the peacefulness he feels in Sirius's presence. There's about a thousand other things he wants to say too, but he can see Sirius's eyes are already shut and his own feel heavy. He supposes that, for once, he'll be able to count on seeing him again when they wake. 

With that thought, Remus allows himself to slip into the deepest, most peaceful sleep he's had in a very long time. 

Notes:

Last chapter next week!

Chapter 30: Sunrise Hopes and Dreams

The sky is streaked with the very first signs of morning when Remus opens his eyes again. He's blessed with the sight of Sirius mere inches from his face, and the soft feeling of fingertips tracing over his jaw. He hums, letting his eyes fall closed again just for a moment. He could lie here forever basking in the predawn light and Sirius's careful fingers. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Sirius whispers. Remus can still smell the lingering scent of cologne on his skin. It's more comforting than any anti-stress candle money can buy. 

"S'ok," Remus murmurs back. He's fighting to open his eyes again. 

"You're cute when you're sleeping," he says. "I hardly ever get to see it." 

"That's kind of creepy." Remus smiles, cracking one eye open to see Sirius roll his eyes. 

"Now who's avoiding cheesy compliments." 

Remus kisses him instead of answering. The kind of slow and lazy kiss that's only reserved for mornings in bed with someone you love. Their foreheads rest together as they part, matching smiles gracing their lips. Remus's heart is full to the point of bursting. 

"We should probably talk about..." Sirius says. 

"Everything," Remus fills in. He pulls away and props himself up on an elbow. He rests the other hand on Sirius's hip because he can't stop touching him. Some irrational part of his brain is terrified that he might disappear if he can't be constantly reminded that this is real. 

"Yeah," Sirius sighs. 

They're both quiet for a moment, staring at each other, not knowing where to start. 

"I never got to apologize," Remus says finally, breaking the silence. "For Paris. Not properly anyway." Remus can remember the desperation he felt that night, knowing that he'd done something irreparable. He'd sat next to that hotel room door, promising himself that he wouldn't leave until he'd made things right. 

"I never gave you a chance to," Sirius says. He looks away from Remus, worrying his lower lip in that adorable way that he's come to love. 

"Doesn't matter," Remus continues. "I was still an asshole that night and I have no idea why you ever spoke to me again." 

Sirius gives him a sad smile. "I was scared of losing you," he admits. 

 Remus wants to say You could never lose me, but that's not really true. He was the one who ran away in the first place, and snuck out early all those times before. Maybe Sirius is right to have some fears about it. 

"I'm sorry," he says, though it's not nearly enough. "And I'm sorry I left every time we hooked up, and that I left you in Italy. I just..." He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. "I was convinced you could never feel the same way about me and I thought that I was protecting myself by keeping my distance." 

Sirius takes his hand. "I know. I thought the same thing." 

Remus looks at him, staring into those soft grey eyes and searching for something he knows he won't find. Sirius is being honest with him, completely authentic. He has been almost the whole time. Remus was the one who led the deception by not allowing them to get any closer than he could bear. 

"When I was a kid," Sirius says suddenly. "My parents fought all the time. I fought with them, too. And it was confusing. Really fucking confusing - especially when I was younger. Sometimes I knew why I was in trouble, but most of the time I couldn't figure it out. My mother wasn't really the affectionate type, you know? If she wasn't yelling at me, she was giving me the silent treatment.

"Anyway...I started seeing a therapist a few years back because Lily made me. He told me that because my parents only ever showed emotion in the most extreme forms that that's what I learned to do. It was either screaming or silence. Then, when I got older and started sneaking out to parties or whatever was going on that night, I threw myself into the opposite. I wouldn't even need to get drunk to do stupid shit. My brain just told me to do it, that I was invincible, that there would be no consequences. I was all or nothing. I still am, sometimes."

Remus takes his hand, unsure of what to say. His heart aches for Sirius, for his shitty childhood and shittier parents. 

"I'm bipolar," he says with a small smile. "And you were right about the meds, in a way, in Paris. They'd just started me on something new and it very clearly wasn't working." 

"I'm...I'm sorry," Remus gets out. He searches Sirius's face, remembering his conversation with Lily months ago. He'd pushed that out of his mind because it was much easier to deal with his own emotions rather than consider Sirius's. Now he feels like even more of a massive douche bag. "I'm glad you told me." 

"Me too," Sirius says, and he does look a bit lighter. "I want you to know about this part of me, just like I want to know about all the important parts of you."

"Yeah, we kind of skipped all the important parts, didn't we?" Remus chuckles. 

"I suppose we did." 

"Well, I should probably tell you about my wife, then." 

Sirius swats him on the arm, but he's laughing. "Shut up." 

They settle back against each other, fitting so perfectly, breathing the same air. Sirius traces the scar along his arm and asks about it. Remus doesn't even hesitate to tell him about the completely stupid fight that produced it. Even if he's a little embarrassed to admit it. 

"I don't get into bar fights anymore, just so you're aware," he offers. 

"So just photographers that get too close to me?" 

Remus groans and buries his face in Sirius's shoulder. "That was not one of my best moments."

"You're my knight in shining armor, Remus," Sirius laughs. 

And, really, how can one stay upset when Sirius Black is laughing so beautifully like that? Not Remus. He reemerges from his hiding spot to kiss him with the confidence of someone who has never once gotten too drunk or too angry to get into a fight. 

 

Later, Sirius cooks them breakfast. Remus is enthralled as he watches him fry eggs and flip pancakes from his spot at the bar. He even applauds when Sirius makes an impressive catch behind his back. 

They eat in the kitchen and leave the dishes for later in favor of the couch. Sirius puts on some show about baking, and Remus settles into the cushions. He starts to doze an episode in, and as the sun cascades through the windows to warm his face, he lets his eyes shut. 

He knows that this is only the beginning and that being with Sirius won't be like this all the time. The won't always get late nights and lazy mornings together, and that there are still things they need to talk about, to apologize for. He knows that a few weeks from now Sirius will have to leave again to finish off his tour in North America. 

But, for now, Remus feels alright about it all. No matter the long distance or difficult conversations, he knows one thing for sure: He's never going to love anyone the way he loves Sirius Black. 

 

Notes:

The end...Or is it????
Debating a sequel or some bonus oneshots bc I'm emotionally dependent on this story now