Black Mass: The Vault

by greenvlvetcouch (roadsidehorror)

Summary:

alternative scenes, extras, and outtakes from black mass

Notes:

None of these chapters are actually edited, apologies for any mistakes :) i'd seen some ask about the don mclean outtake, so I dug him up and some other random extras I had.

happy valentine's day!

Chapter 1: chapter 14: alt. smut scene

He moved his fingers lower, brushing his thumb over the waistband of Sirius’s pants before letting out a low laugh. “This—”

Remus pushed his thumb against the Moony tattoo again, smoothing the skin over like he was finally getting a moment to understand it was there—forever on Sirius’s skin. “This drives me fucking crazy—you’re fucking wild.”

“I missed you,” Sirius whined, lifting his hips, and Remus nodded.

He stared at the tattoo for a moment longer, eyes heavy because it was all his. He glanced up at Sirius through his lashes—eyes heavy—and took in his parted mouth and the way his breaths were coming faster. “I’m here, baby.”

And Sirius threw his head back, twisting his hips against Remus’s hand.

“Please”

Remus sat up and heard the noise of protest Sirius made from the loss of contact. He reached behind him, pulling his shirt over his head before dropping it on the bed beside them. “You know—you hurt my feelings yesterday.”

Remus tilted his head to the side, watching as Sirius's brows drew together in confusion. He took pity on him because he did look so fucking pretty right now underneath him.

“Free drinks—” Remus scoffed. “Jon at the bar, remember him?”

“No,” Sirius almost looked nervous. “I don't—”

“Jon got a knee to the fucking dick because he was trying to keep you there,” Remus shook his head. “Take you from me.”

“What?” Sirius breathed, and god bless him, he really didn't remember anything.

“Mmmhm,” Remus leaned down again, hovering over Sirius as he looked at him. “And that hurt my fucking feelings, you wanna know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you’re mine.” Remus grabbed Sirius's waist, pushing him up further onto the bed. “And he was trying to take you from me.”

“I didn't—”

“But you’re mine now, right?” He wanted to hear it again—and again and again, until Sirius’s voice was hoarse, and he could hardly speak.

“Always,” Sirius nodded, kicking his feet out, a sly grin on his face as he tried to knock Remus's knee so he would fall on him. “Always.”

Remus reached out, stilling Sirius’s leg before pushing it to the side, skating his hand along the inside of his thigh. And it was fucking perfect because he was wearing the fucking pants, and Remus would die trying to list every time he imagined being in this exact situation—skating his hand over the inseam of the fucking pants.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius spit out as Remus’s hand curved around the top of his thigh—ghosting over the zipper. “I didn't—”

“I know, baby,” Remus looked up at him again—tore his gaze away from where he could see the top of his boxers peeking out of the top of his pants. “I think I can put it past us.”

“Okay,” He choked out before Remus unbuttoned Sirius’s pants, pulling the zipper down.

Remus got them undone before Sirius lifted, allowing Remus to pull Sirius’s pants off. He left the boxers, though, mouth actually fucking watering as he took in the outline of him beneath the thing fabric.

“Come here,” Remus said, and Sirius sat up—scrambled, really—as he pulled the sweater over his head. Remus sat up, and Sirius came to kneel on the bed in front of him as well. “Wanna look at you.”

Sirius fell back onto his knees, looking up at Remus, and his breath hitched because of the look on Sirius’s face. Because of the curve of his shoulder blades and the dip of his waist—begging to be held.

The lean expanse of his neck as he tilted his head back, just asking to be gripped tightly. Remus groaned at the thought—wondering if, by this time tomorrow, his entire body could be covered with tattoos, hickeys, and bruises from the pads of Remus’s fingers.

Remus reached down, shaking his head and letting out a soft laugh at the thought. His fingers worked at getting his pants unbuttoned, but Sirius’s hand came up, stilling him.

“Can I?” Sirius asked, looking up at him again, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. “Please?”

Remus only nodded, letting his hands fall before tilting his hips forward as Sirius’s fingers replaced his own. He felt his palm skate over his length—already hard through his pants and he hissed as Sirius drew his zipper down.

Sirius yanked his pants down, wasting no time pulling Remus’s boxers down as well before he paused before grabbing Remus’s cock in his hand. Sirius’s eyes flitted up to his, a slow smile spreading across his face as he squeezed lightly.

“Can I kiss it?”

Remus could only nod because yes—please do whatever you’d like.

Sirius’s hand was warm, enveloping Remus's length, and it was like he was finally seeing god—he was finally understanding what some meant and spiritual divinity and reaching a higher power. Like the lick of Sirius’s lips before he pressed them to the tip of his cock was god granting him a small slice of heaven.

Sirius’s lips ghosted over the side of his cock, dragging down his length as he looked up at Remus from below his lashes. Remus bucked his hips forward, and Sirius drew back, his mouth hovering over the tip.

His voice was low as he spoke again. “Can I lick it?”

“Please,” Remus choked out, and it was so not what Remus had expected to be happening the first time Sirius had his cock in hand. His voice came out pained—strained and needy.

And it was brutal—how Sirius bent down, dragging the flat of his tongue over Remus’s cock. His hand came up as a choked gasp escaped his lips and he barely had time to steady himself with a hand on Sirius’s head before he did it again—licking all the way up his length before drawing back and roughly spitting on it.

Sirius was no good—in the sense that Remus’s mind was absolutely blank. He was dangerous in the sense that one becomes addicted to this, like any other drug, Addicted to the heat of his tongue and the slight scrape of teeth that Remus would have thought would be fucking awful but instead as him struggling to take a breath.

Remus stared down, wide-eyed, as Sirius drug his lips down his length and it was captivating—the way his mouth was slick with spit. Sirius looked up at him before swirling his tongue slowly around the tip and everything was a bit sideways at the moment.

Remus’s knees faltered, and he went to fall back on his knees before Sirius brought a hand up—digging into his side and keeping him there.

He pulled away a moment later, smiling up at Remus as he pushed his cock down, watching it spring back up. “Can I choke on it?”

“Are you trying to kill me?”

“Never,” Sirius shook his head before stroking Remus's length once and then again and again before licking his teeth, spitting on the tip again.

And there was a sort of delirium that came on when Sirius’s mouth enveloped him. Something that had Remus falling back to sit on his knees because there was no way he could have possibly stayed up.

Sirius followed him down, arching his back and Remus trailed a hand over the curve of his back, sweeping his hair away, and saw the moon tattoos on his back.

Remus’s eyes closed—face screwing up into something that had you not seen the whole picture, would have alluded to torture—as he felt his cock hit the back of Sirius’s throat. A broken gasp left his lungs as Sirius pulled all the way out, spitting again before he began to move his hand, taking Remus into his mouth at the same time.

“Holy shit—” Remus gasped, moving his hand to the back of Sirius’s head. “Okay—”

Sirius hummed around his cock, looking up at Remus and he fucking grinned around him—grinned with Remus in his mouth as he took him deeper. He leaned down further and was fucking merciless—wicked and vile.

Sirius hallowed his cheeks, using his hand on Remus’s waist to push him further back into his throat and Remus felt himself bottom out a moment before Sirius choked—pulling back and they both watched the trail of spit connecting them stretch and break.

Remus’s chest was heaving—his chest was flushed and he was fucking burning up. Hands shaking a bit as he tried to catch his breath. He felt like all the blood in his body had hit its boiling point long ago, and Sirius was only sitting below him, cheeks flushed and eyes watery.

Remus closed his eyes, letting them roll back before reaching forward, and roughly wiping his thumb across Sirus’s chin. He nodded to himself a few times before gripping Sirius’s chin in his hand, lifting him up. A hand came to his hip, pulling him closer.

“Actually, no—” Remus laughed. “Lie back.”

Remus didn't give him a moment to follow instructions, instead shoving against his shoulder before crawling on top of him, reaching down, and pulling his boxers off. “This is how we’re going to do this.”

Remus reached down, spitting in his hand before cupping it under Sirius’s mouth. “Spit.”

Sirius swallowed before sticking his tongue out as he watched Remus collect the spit in his hand. He fluted up again, spitting on Sirius’s cock—watching it fall and land on the tip before throwing a hand out, hovering over him.

“And we're not in the truck this time—right?” Remus asked, stroking himself a few times before finding Sirius’s length, watching as he lifted his hips up into his touch. “Right?”

“Yes,” Sirius panted.

“And you don't have to be quiet.”

‘Okay,” Sirius whined as Remus wrapped his hand around both of them, roughly tugging. “Fuck—”

Chapter 2: chapter 14: don mclean

“Take this off—” Remus grumbled, already pulling his sweater over and off Sirius. “Why’d you even put this back on?”

“I thought—”

“Stop talking,” Remus gasped, bringing his lips to meet Sirius’s again, hand cupping the back of his head. “Just stop fucking talking and kiss me.”

Sirius melted into his touch, and Remus gripped his waist tighter, keeping him in place as his hips lifted, and his cock brushed against Remus’s.

“You’re mine,” Sirius gasped, and it wasn't like a declaration or a question. The words were laced with awe like he was truly just realizing and like Remus hadn’t been holding a flashing sign over his head since forever stating that exact thing.

“Always,” Remus nodded into his mouth, brushing his tongue against his own. Sirius whimpered, hand coming down to grapple at Remus’s waistband. He lifted his hips, allowing Sirius’s hand to slip inside and wrap around his cock.

“For how long?” Sirius said, gripping tightly and dragging his hand down his length.

“Forever,” Remus shook his head, mouth falling open at the feel of Sirius’s hot fingers wrapped around his length. “Fucking forever.”

And it was how long he would be Sirius’s as well as how long he had wanted to be. How long he had imaged what his cock felt like in his warm palm and what the drag of his hand would make him sound like.

What Sirius was capable of reducing him to under him.

“Wanna make you come,” Sirius whispered, lifting up and nipping at the underside of Remus’s chin. “Can I?”

“You can do whatever you want baby,” Remus’s eyes rolled back as Sirius’s thumb circled the tip of his cock, collecting the wetness and smearing it down his length. “Anything.”

Sirius wasted no time, pushing against Remus’s chest and he fell back against the bedspread and watched as Sirius straddled him, pushing his hands onto his chest. He grinned, threading his hands through Remus’s hair and pushing it away from his face.

Remus only looked back, eyes wide and looking at Sirius surrounded by all the fucking purple. Like it framed him, and with the first shift of Sirius’s hips the world slowed down. Time slowed and maybe even paused and a slow smile grew on Sirius's face as Remus’s mouth dropped open.

It was poetic, and something beautiful in the most basic sense. To have Sirius look at him like that while looking like that and it was too much for a single man to bear—Remus was sure of that. Like he understood the saying died and went to heaven and he had been good and had been given what he had always wanted in his afterlife.

The radio went quiet and Sirius let out a breathy gasp, leaning into his palms on Remus’s chest, hot and wet.

Long long time ago, I can still remember

How that music used to make me smile

And Remus laughed, something deep in his chest full of disbelief and wonder and every single feeling he could ever possibly associate with Sirius Black. And how the world worked, and how it had to have a sense of humor—have the type of humor where it said ‘you can have this, but you’re going to get this too.’

Sirius laughed as well, quick and short, rolling his hips. “Fucking Don McLean—”

And I knew if I had my chance

That I could make those people dance

And maybe they'd be happy for a while

“Don’t stop,” Remus gasped, hands coming up to push Sirius further against him. “Fucking hell—”

“This fucking song,” Sirius moaned. “Of all fucking songs.”

But February made me shiver

With every paper I'd deliver

Bad news on the doorstep

I couldn't take one more step

Remus laughed again, and Sirius paused momentarily to grin down at him, letting out a laugh again and it was beautiful, the contrast. Remus shook his head, pulling SIirus’s hips forward as he lifted up. Sirius’s head fell back and he moaned as Remus grabbed a pillow, blindly tossing it behind him.

“Did I hit it?” Remus gasped, pulling Sirius’s against him sharply, bucking into where his cock was grinding against his own, the tip leaking through his boxers. Remus’s eyes were wide as he stared at where Sirius was sitting, waiting for Sirius to catch his breath.

He brought his head up, arching his back and rotating his hips again, squinting. “No.”

I can't remember if I cried

When I read about his widowed bride

“Fuck—” Rmeus shouted, reaching for another pillow and throwing it. He heard it hit something but Sirius only shook his head—hair falling over his shoulder as he picked up the pace.

But something touched me deep inside

The day the music died

“Don’t stop,” Sirius shook his head again and Rmeus huffed, bringing his other hand up to grip the other side of Sirius’s waist. He held him steady, bucking up into his touch, and drew in a breath as the tip of his cock brushed against the Moony tattoo on Sirius’s stomach.

He reached down, pulling his cock out of the waistband of his boxers before doing the same to Sirius’s. His eyes were wide as a choked gasp escaped him as Remus took both his cocks in his hand, squeezing as he lifted his hips into it.

So bye-bye, Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee

But the levee was dry

“You’ve got a pretty cock,” Sirius choked out, and Remus smirked because it was an ill attempt at spitting his words from the other day back at him.

Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye

Singing, "This'll be the day that I die"

This will be the day that I die

And Sirius was so good because he brought a shaky hand up, tucking his hand behind his ear before spitting on Remus’s hand, groaning as he felt the split slide between his fingertips to where he was jerking them both off.

“Again,” Remus grit out, loving the way Sirius opened his mouth, letting the spit fall over his lips. “Do it again.”

“Say please,” Sirius gasped as Remus began to move his hand faster, the spit making obscene noises. It was one of those moments in life, where everything felt too good to be anything more than perfect despite american pie playing in the background and the fact they were in the ugliest hotel room in history in the middle of fucking nowhere.

Sirius moaned his name, and it was like it was always supposed to be then for them. It would have never worked any time before—wasn't meant to—and Remus couldn't even feel disdain about that. Life was too sweet at the moment for anything other than Sirius.

“Please, baby,” Remus finally managed to say. “C’mon, want to make you come.”

Sirius leaned down again, trying to gather spit before bracing himself with a hand on Remus’s leg. He squeezed. “Mouth’s dry.”

Remus reached up, pulling Sirius’s lips to meet his before spitting in his mouth. His mouth was dry too—dry as fuck—but Sirius moaned, lifting back up and spitting it all over their cocks.

Remus bit his lip, lifting his hips and Sirius, settling him onto his waist fully. He began to move his hand faster, twisting and coating them both with their spit. It was filthy and Siirus was whining and moaning and making all these pretty sounds Remus just wanted to swallow—devour and keep inside him forever.

Head thrown back, hand and grip on his leg shaky, Remus just wanted to see him fall apart. Breka completely and he wanted to ruin him wholly and put him back together so he was his. He was the only one who knew how to take him apart and put him back together.

“Yes, fuck—” Sirius fell forward, leaning over Remus. His eyes were screwed tight, and his hips moved in turn with Rmeus’s hand, grinding further into the pleasure. “Moony.”

“Say it again,” Remus gasped. “Say it again, please.”

“Moony,” Sirius said louder this time, his lips brushing against his own before he whispered a ‘please’ into Remus’s panting mouth. “Please, please.”

“What do you want?” Remus braced his other hand against Siruis’s stomach, pushing him up enough to see his face fully. Because he wanted to see his face—the best he could. Not in a dim and dirty bar parking lot, not in the small cab of the truck—he wanted Sirius right there in front of him, looking at him, as he fell apart. “Look at me.”

“Moony, I’m gonna—”

“Come then, please baby.” And Remus was actually begging. Pleading and it sounded pitiful and almost as wrecked as Sirius looked at the moment. “Next time—come on that pretty face, though.”

Eyes wide like he was only seeing Remus—like Remus was something important and Precious and Remus’s mouth dropped open. Too enthralled with what he was seeing. Sirius look wrecked—fucked out and like he was high.

He was high and his eyes were glassy and he was gasping with each thrust of Rmeus’s hip and turn of his own.

“Please come, I want to see so bad—”

“Moony,” Sirius was repeating his name over and over, chanting it and Remus grit his teeth wanting to make him come—wanting him to spill over his hand so he could chase his own release with his own.

“Baby, fuck—” Remus gasped, feeling the tightening in his stomach and the weight of his hips dropping fully onto the bed. His wrist stuttered, and Sirius groaned—loud and throaty before his forehead fell to meet Remus’s and kissed him.

Once, and then twice, and then his hips shifted one last time, and Remus looked into his eyes as he came, spilling over his hand and leaking down onto his own cock. Remus gave one last tug before he came as well, tightening his grip on both their cock. Sirius jumped, gasping, and Remus bucked his hips, feeling his thighs press into his ass one last time before stilling, legs falling flat on the bed.

“Holy shit,” Sirius gasped, lips grazing over Remus’s neck as he spoke, repeating it over and over again like he had been saying his name only moments before. “Oh my god.”

“I—” Remus started but Sirius pushed up, wincing as his sensitive cock brushed against Remus’s boxers. He leaned back, bracing his hands on Remus’s outstretched legs.

“If you say anything,” Sirius heaved a breath. “—don't say anything dumb.”

“What?”

“You overthink,” Sirius waved his hand at Remus flippantly. “Don’t need you thinking I didn't want—”

“Shut up,” Remus groaned, because he got it but why did Sirius have to be practical all a sudden? Why was he now trying to talk about things? “Come here, You’re so far away. Why are you so far away?”

Chapter 3: chapter 10: shopping with james and lily

“You don’t separate your clothes?” Lily asked, pausing as she went to throw more of Sirius’s shirts in the wash.

Remus watched from the kitchen, laughing as Sirius looked at her like she was crazy.

“What is there to separate?” He threw his hands out. “It’s all black!”

“You still need to separate them—the denim doesn't get washed with the cotton!”

“But it's all the same color.”

James coughed and handed Remus a joint which he took albeit a bit begrudgingly because James smoked a lot and Lily smoked a lot, yet with her, you would never know. She was arguing with Sirius about laundry techniques like she was stone-cold sober, but one look at James, and you were wondering how he was still standing.

Yet what came out of his mouth still made sense, and Remus found he sometimes related to it too much.

“She’s so hot when she gets all mad.”

Remus watched as Sirius looked up from where he was squatting in front of the washer, giving Lily a wide-eyed look and phishing his hair back away from his face.

He was still shirtless because he never wore a fucking shirt, and Remus would probably never become accustomed to just—seeing his chest and back all the fucking time. And he was wearing the pants today, and from where he was squatting, the back was gaping a bit, and you could see the way his waist taper down, and Remus squinted—sticking his neck out to get a closer look—and he could see the dimples in his lower back, and he only coughed and handed the joint back to James.

He went to open his mouth to argue, but Sirius whipped around and looked at him, eyes wild. “Ask Moony!”

“I’m not—just listen to me.”

“I’m not saying you’re wrong!”

“Then stop trying to put the fucking shirts in the wash, Sirius Black.”

Remus sighed, grabbing his pack of cigarettes and following James out to the patio to avoid getting dragged into whatever was happening in there.

Lily and Sirius were alike in a lot of ways, and despite having just met them, as much as they doted on each other and had a fondness for one another—it was like they were arguing with themselves, and that was something Remus couldn't imagine getting tangled up in.

James sat in an old wicker chair, sinking down and holding his hand out. Remus handed him a cigarette before lighting his own, and then it was silent besides the faint noise of shouting coming from inside.

“Can I ask you something, man?”

Remus paused, looking at James out of the corner of his eyes. “Sure—shoot.”

“You and him—you really weren't together before Vegas?”

Remus rested his chin in his hand, looking out past the railing and at the city in front of them.

They had a nice view.

“No, we weren't.”

“Really?” James said quietly, disbelief written across his face.

“I mean—” Remus started but thought better. “No, we weren't.”

“You mean?”

Remus really didn't want to get into it, but also, one look at James's face showed he wasn't trying to pry. He just wanted to know. And he hadn't said much in Vegas and hardly seemed like the type to say much now, and maybe Remus just really wanted someone to talk to about the cluster fuck in his head.

“I always wanted—” Remus struggled to find the words. “I’ve always liked him—love him.”

James nodded, urging Remus to continue as he took a drag of his cigarette and tapped the ash off.

“He left freshman year, and I didn't hear from him for years—”

‘No shit?”

“Yeah,” Remus nodded. “We met when we were young—maybe eight or nine. Best friends and I think from the first moment I looked at him, I knew it was over. Life kinda felt over in a sense, but I had no idea why I felt like I was going to throw up every time I saw him.”

“He doesn't feel the same?”

“I have no idea—he’s first and foremost my favorite person. My best friend and I’d never risk that.”

“But now you’re married.” James shot back, arching a brow, and Remus laughed because, yeah, now they were married.

“And now we’re married, and it’s all sorts of fucked up.”

“And what? You both just decided to go on a road trip?”

“We had always promised we would—he called me up late one night and then showed up three days later.” Remus ashed out his cigarette, lulling his head back and staring at the fading clouds in the sky. “Hadn't seen him in years, and it was like getting hit in the face with a fuck brick—or, I don't know—something.”

It was silent for a while as James finished his cigarette and smoked another. Remus took in the city before him—the cars going about their day and the buildings and the way they dominated the space, and there wasn't a field in sight, and everything was just so—exciting.

Lively—full of life.

Even the clouds looked different here, and Remus tossed his head forward, trying to commit to memory the feel of the air here and the taste of life because he never could live somewhere like this. Instead of spiraling, he pushed and shoved the idea of having to go back home into a far recess of his mind.

I’ll deal with it tonight when the clouds are gone and replaced by the night and I’m lying in bed with Sirius. Even then, maybe I won't have to—if he still keeps acting so sweet.

“If it's any consolation,” James cleared his throat. “I think you guys are good together.”

“I think we get on like a house on fire,” Remus admitted, laughing. “But it's also the biggest fucking mess.”

“But isn't that the point?”

Remus only looked at him and raised a brow because he knew whatever was about to come out of James’s mouth would probably be prophetic and wise and only make sense because Remus was as high as him.

“I'm just saying—I’ve never heard you talk about him, really, but I can see it.” He lit another cigarette, handing it to Remus. “You both look at each other like you're the only other person in the room—like you'd move heaven and earth if the other just asked—it reminds me of how I feel about Lily.”

He gestured towards the back door. “And I can see that—I think anyone could, so how different could it be? If he felt the same, I feel like it would be easy to slip into it because you’re already there. I would just ask myself, ‘What would the difference be?’ because I can't see there being much.”

Remus sat forward, wiping his palms on his knees.

“What would change? What would be different? Because like you said—fuck, man—you’re married.”

“Yeah, but not really.”

James waived his hand dismissively. “Yeah, but marriage is all a sham anyway—it's about the commitment. I could go in there now and tell Lily I wanted to get married, and maybe we would, but that's not going to change anything. It's just a piece of paper at the end of the day—it's about how you hold onto that.”

James spoke slowly, driving his point home. “It's about that commitment—that saying ‘I want to spend the rest of my life with you—I was going to regardless—but now we have a piece of paper proving it.”

_

Lily insisted on taking them around the city—which really just meant taking them to buy things which James said was her favorite thing, and she loved to spend his money, then he shrugged and said he had enough, and he liked to watch her smile, so it was fine.

Remus had then asked what he did—what his parents did—and he had shrugged as well, and then Remus had waited for an answer and never got one.

So now he was standing in a small resale shop, holding some of Lily’s bags they had already gotten when she had stopped to buy a new dress for the show, which had turned into new shoes. Then Sirius had liked a new jacket, so Remus was holding that, and then James was swaying a bit because they had shared a joint only moments before coming in, and all in all?

It was fun.

Not something Remus would have ever thought he would be doing—but fun nonetheless.

“My arms hurt, man,” James groaned, shifting the bags he was holding. “When she comes back out, tell her the dress is an ugly color—or doesn't fit right. I can't hold much more.”

Remus laughed, dropping the bags on the floor before leaning against the wall.

“Moony!”

Remus lolled his head to the side as Sirius came up to him, holding—fuck—two more pairs of pants that looked suspiciously close to the pants, and he just didn't have much strength anymore.

He was a shell of a man when it came to Sirius and his pants.

“Buy these.”

“What?”

“Buy these.”

And then he shoved them in Remus’s hand and left again, and Remus heard Lily laugh and then Sirius laugh and good fuck, they were shopping together. Remus looked down at the pants, noting they were his size, and how did Sirius know his size of pants? before sighing, looking at James, who only raised his brow.

“They’ll look nice on you, I think.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah—” James nodded thoughtfully. “You’ve got a nice ass.”

“Thanks, man.”

And then another thirty minutes passed. James and Remus were sitting on the floor and hadn't seen Sirius or Lily for a good while. They were discussing college sports which Remus knew hardly anything about, and James knew even less. They weren't so much discussing it as they were throwing out guesses as to certain things, and then the other would nod and confidently say they were right while knowing they probably weren't.

And then Remus heard Sirius call him and James over, and they found them in the dressing room area.

Lily stepped out first in a dress that was not an awful color and was actually really nice—she looked quite beautiful, and he watched James swallow before kissing her, and it was just so something.

And then there was Sirius—who walked out of the dressing room, turning around and staring at himself in the mirror before looking at Remus.

“What do you think?”

We are in public—please put a shirt on for once and don't ask me what I think right now.

Remus shifted his stance, taking a deep breath. “More pants?”

“You like my pants.”

“I do,” Because there was no sense in lying. “But—”

And then he stopped because Sirius turned around, and the pants were just indecent—too tight. Like Remus thought the black ones he always wore were right, but these looked like s second skin. Black denim as always but with fucking stars on the ass right where Remus just wanted to smack and then grab and—

“Moony.” Sirius deadpanned as he waited for an answer.

Remus somehow could speak after a moment, tearing his eyes away from Sirius's waist. “I like them.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes at him, searching his face for something he apparently found because he straightened up and smirked. “Good.”

—

“We’ve got the car, but I prefer walking most of the time,” Lily said as she knocked her shoulder against Remus’s. “Especially when it's nice out.”

They passed by a group of teenagers laughing on the sidewalk, and Remus scooted Lily out of their way.

Because they were just laughing—heads were thrown back like they didn't have a care in the world and cared for nothing but that moment, so immersed in the joy of life they hardly noticed those around them, and Remus could hardly be upset. He envied them if anything.

“It is nice out today,” He nodded, stuffing his hands in his pocket.

Lily was quiet as they headed to the small Italian restaurant a few blocks from their apartment to pick up dinner. James had said he wanted pizza, and Sirius had said he wanted pizza, and Remus was hardly hungry and had said sure, pizza. Then James and Sirius had looked at each other conspiratorially before James had nodded, and Lily and she was all but dragging him out of the apartment to go with her.

She was silent, but it wasn't quiet—the sound of the city either winding down or ramping up floated through the air, and it was a lot, but it was comforting. Like a dull roar that Remus found, he almost immediately much preferred to the silence of back home.

“You ever feel small?” Lily spoke finally, patting Remus’s pocket, requesting a cigarette.

He stalled—pulling one out and lighting it for her before holding it out. Lily took it, and Remus lit one for himself before taking a drag and finally speaking.

“Most of the time, yeah.”

She glanced sideways at him, chewing her bottom lip. “I know we just met, but I’d like to think we’ll all be friends for a long while. All James could talk about was you and Sirius on the way home—didn't shut up about it and still hasn't.”

“James is a good guy.”

“He is,” She looked ahead, smiling to herself. “Sirius is too.”

Remus laughed then because, yeah, Sirius was good—great and amazing, and Remus supposed all three of them were great people he was happy to happen to have met somehow. He felt small quite often, and the world was so large, so he found it hard to imagine he deserved friends like them, so then it had to be a coincidence, and he supposed, in that sense, he was lucky.

“Yeah.”

“Can I ask—”

“Go on, Evans. I knew there was a reason you brought me with you.”

She scoffed. “I needed someone to help me bring home the pizza.”

“Sure,” Remus took a drag of his cigarette shaking his head.

It was silent again, and they passed a couple kissing on the sidewalk—who kissed before drawing back and smiling at one another, and Remus wondered how they had gotten there. What their lives looked like leading up to the moment he had just witnessed.

“You think you’ll ever get together?’

“If you forgot, we’re married, Lils.”

“Yeah—okay, we both know that isn't what I’m asking.”

“I think you and James are conspiring,” Remus said, tossing his cigarette down. “Y’all aren't as sly as you think.”

“I think we’re pretty sly—y'all got married.”

“That was a lack of judgment on all parts.”

“Answer the question, Remus.”

And because Lily was herself, he did, because once again, he found himself in front of someone who was asking. Asking him to tell them and spill all his thoughts that had been swimming in his head and he was so heavy from all of them, he was dying to remove some of the weight.

“No—maybe,” Remus sighed, lighting another cigarette as they stopped to wait to cross the street. “I don't know.”

“You would want to?”

“Absolutely.”

“You don't think he would want to? I see how you guys play—the wall you talk to and gravitate towards one another.”

Remus laughed, ashing his cigarette out before putting his hand on Lily’s back, and crossing the street behind her. “Everything with Sirius is a joke.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing he says can be taken seriously—everything is a joke.” Another drag. “And I try to be the same way, but it’s not a joke to me. Never could be.”

“You think he’s not serious about the way he talks to you—the way he is with you?”

“I don't know,” Remus shrugged. “I’ve never been able to figure it out, and besides, he’s just him. He could have anyone—he’s that great—and I’ve got a slew of reasons why that person should never be me.”

“I think you sell yourself short and don’t give him enough credit.”

“Why? You see the way he is.”

“And you do too but it's different—my view versus yours.” Lily came to a stop in front of a small, quaint Italian restaurant and it smelled like fresh bread and too much cheese from outside the door. “I wouldn't sit there and assume you have the whole view—you’re quite blinded by being too close to what you’re trying to see.”

Chapter 4: chapter 18: alt. smut scene

Remus woke to the radio playing softly, Sirius’s leg thrown over his, and the smell of salt water in his nose.

Sirius’s face was pressed into his chest, and his legs were tangled with Remus’s. One was thrown over his hip, the other between Remus’s legs. He was holding on tight, his back pressed against the back of the seat.

Remus hummed to himself, trying to lean back and see what time it was, but Sirius held on tighter, grumbling a protest in his sleep.

“Baby?”

“Hmm,” Sirius mumbled, showing his nose into Remus’s chest before almost shoving him off the bench, turning around, and curling around himself. Remus held onto him, threatening to fall off the bench seat as his ass pushed back into Remus.

“Baby,” He repeated, but Sirius lightly shook his head, still somewhat asleep but aware enough to ignore Remus.

Remus reached up, pushing the hair away from Sirius’s neck, and rested his chin there, rubbing the sleep from his eye across the back of Sirius’s head. Sirius hummed in response, pushing back into Remus harder.

His hand shot out, stilling Sirius’s hips. Remus squeezed his eyes shut, before letting out a huff as Sirius ground his hips back again.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Remus sighed. “Are you awake?”

“Hmph.”

“You gotta give me something more than that, baby,” Remus mumbled, voice hoarse. He cleared his throat, nudging Sirius's head back with his chin. “Hm?”

“M’awake,” Sirius mumbled, pushing his head into the seat and his ass further back into Remus’s cock. He felt Sirius’s back arch and sighed.

“You wanna get fucked?” Remus asked, leaning his head against Sirius’s back.

Sirius reached back, fingers clumsy and fumbling for the waistband of Remus’s boxers. He found them, fingers stilling as they slipped under, before he pulled the band back, snapping it against Remus's waist.

Remus only nodded, hand coming down and pulling Siirus’s boxers down. He lifted his hips, movements a little clumsy, but Remus pressed a kiss against the shell of his ear and heard him hum.

He brought a hand up, spitting on it before wrapping it around his cock, the breath leaving him as he pushed against Sirius’s waist, arching him back further, and pushed into him.

The breath left Sirius in a long-winded moan, something deep from his chest. It mixed with Remus’s own, and his hand dropped his hip, letting Sirius settle back against him. He was still, reveling in the feeling. Eyes heavy, Remus buried his head into Sirius’s hair, lulling it side to side and mouth parting at the feeling of being inside Sirius again.

“Please,” Sirius whined, mumbling into the seat. “Move.”

“Fuck, baby,” Remus said, holding onto his hip once more before pulling out slowly and pushing back into him—all the well and Sirius’s skin was so fucking warm.

He set a slow pace, something lazy and unhurried. Dragged the soft whimpers and low moans out of Sirius, punctuating when his breath would hitch or he would push back into Remus with a slightly harder thrust.

“Oh, fuck,” He moaned, hand coming around to grip Sirius's shoulders and lift him further back into Remus. “You feel so fucking good—why are you so good?”

“Don't stop,” Sirius panted, and Remus moved his hand down, pressing his fingertips into Sirius’s chest until he found his cock, taking it into his hand.

“Spit for me, baby,” Remus dragged his teeth across Sirius’s shoulder, feeling him twitch under his hand as he brought it away. Sirius’s hand found his wrist, holding his hand to his mouth before spitting in his palm, pushing his hand back to his cock.

“Moons,” Sirius mumbled, pushing into his hand, and Remus stroked his cock, but pushing back into his hips and he pushed forward.

It was a back and forth, Remus lying there as Sirius fucked back into him before canting his hips forward, needing more of Remus’s cock and his hand. The sleep was rapidly bleeding from his mind as he felt the tightening in his lower stomach, but Sirius was still mumbling, lost in it all.

“Please don’t stop.”

“I’m not gonna stop baby—never gonna stop.”

Remus leaned down, placing a kiss on his shoulder before licking over the skin, nipping at it softly before sucking. He drew back, soothing the bruised skin before Sirius arched into his touch, pleading for more.

“You sound so sweet, baby,” Remus gripped his hip tighter, moving his hand faster and twisting his hand, squeezing lightly as he dragged his hand up and down his cock. “All for me?”

“All for you,” Sirius choked out, legs stretching out and tangling with Remus's. One locked around him, holding Remus still as Sirius pushed back into him. “Please—oh, fuck—”

Remus huffed, squeezing his eyes shut and gathering his strength before pushing against Sirius’s hip, lifting himself and rolling them over. Sirius yelped, hand coming against the seat and steadying himself as he was rolled onto his stomach.

“Remus, please—”

“Take it, baby—fuck.”

Remus groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and burying his face in Sirius’s hair, panting as he sunk into Sirius fully, hand slipping and trying to find purchase on the seat. He let his full weight settle on them both and pushed Sirius into the seat, and Remus came with a broken cry, inhaling sharply as he buried himself fully.

He thrust forward a few more times, forcing a few more pants out of Sirius before he felt his leg wrap out Remus's again, and he came.

It was muffled by the seat under him, but Remus grinned against his back, feeling Sirius take a deep breath before going limp. He hummed, moaning before rolling his head to the side. Remus reached down, brushing the hair away from his face.

Chapter 5: extra: mega bong

Sirius gasps, it’s a long and drawn-out thing, his hand shooting out to grip Remus’ thigh where they’re sat cross-legged in front of the coffee table. There’s smoke curling around them and Remus has eaten too many cookies. Too many. He feels sick—sweaty with the cookie sweats.

“What should we call it?” he whispers, and that’s awe in his voice.

James leans in close, glancing behind him at the open front door before he nods twice, slowly. A bit stilted and jerky as he whispers, hoarse:

“Mega bong.”

–

Remus has never been this high in his life.

Really, something about the way the smoke fills his lungs has him near coughing them up, sputtering wide-eyed at Sirius who he’s not even entirely sure can see him. If he’s looking at Remus, things might not be firing. He looks half near drooling, and Remus isn’t feeling much better himself. His mouth is dry one minute then full of spit a second later. Nothing is making sense.

His eyes are almost closed, Sirius tries to widen them and it’s all red. Remus grimaces but then its pearly teeth when Sirius grins, loose and lazy.

Sirius has never been this high before either. Never been this beautiful before as well, something about the changing of the seasons. The year, time as a construction, particles in the air.

Time—what a thing. Clocks all over the world, everyone knows what time it is all the time. So important, we set reminders for the time and that helps us wake up and probably pay bills, and...

Remus keeps losing his thoughts, ranging between poetry, god, no, I can’t handle another hit, and the urge to leave James near passed out on the floor and drag Sirius to bed. Literally drag him. Sirius looks near limp-noodle status and keeps wiping his hands on his pants and huffing. Remus watches Sirius toss out a floppy hand toward the bong.

It’s his turn again.

No one can find the lighter. It ends up being in Remus’s hand.

“I’m gonna clear it,” Sirius croaks, and that’s anger almost. Determination to not be bested again. “I'm gonna, moons.”

“I believe in you.”

Sirius pauses where he’s getting ready, packing it and it’s an earnest, heartfelt, “Thank you.”

They just got a new blanket, it’s so soft.

“Mega bong,” James whimpers from the floor. Remus is sitting back on his hands and he watches as one of James' arms limply raises. Reaching for the bong again, maybe just gesturing as he now whispers, between latent coughs, “That thing’s a monster.”

And the mega bong is massive. It’s easily almost four feet tall, it takes two to light it. It’s a group effort, everyone is involved and no one’s cleared it yet but James had gotten close that first time. Almost died after, whether from the coughing fit or the near awakening of Lily, four months pregnant across the hall, but.

“Moony,” Sirius whispers. “I think he’s asleep.”

“James,” Remus tries. Then again, adding a gentle kick with his outstretched leg to James’ arm. “Hey.”

Sirius is squinting, he’s squirming a bit and Remus doesn’t really think depositing James in his own apartment in this state is the best move. Lily had even seemed excited about mega bong, and possibly getting the bed to herself tonight.

“Help me get him on the couch.”

Sirius squints again, one eye closed and a weird look on his face. “Not the spare bedroom?”

“No, too close to ours.”

“Ah, I see,” Sirius says, and that’s a wonky smirk on his face. Lopsided. Oh, he’s so pretty. “Moony’s trying to get crazy tonight—James you’re sleeping on the couch, moony’s trying to get crazy tonight.”

Remus is so high the concept of having sex is nearing calculus-level precision. Sirius is wearing clothes, and Remus wants the clothes off. There are buttons and he’s wearing his new pants that the zipper kind of sticks and then Remus is up.

He’s standing now, his legs are working, and James mumbles when Remus gets ahold of both his hands. Yanks him up, arms under his elbows, and he’s dragging him now. Sirius is fluffing a pillow and then plop.

A Jamie heap on the couch. Sirius tucks him in and with a kiss on the forehead. “Burrito—go to sleep.”

Chapter 6: extra: daddy kink

Summary:

a continuation of mega bong

Lights are turned off, water is got, and Sirius is picked up. Holding both glasses, Remus carried him like he’d never set his own two feet on earth to their bedroom down the hall. The shlck of the door clicking shut is too damn loud, and Remus turns the small tv on as he takes off his shirt, listening to Sirius turn down the bed.

They had made it that morning, trying to be adults and all.

“I’m so high, that thing is—“ Sirius doesn’t even finish his sentence, trailing off into static nonsense. Remus is too preoccupied trying to work the remote to notice until too late.

“I can’t work the remote,” he sighs. “Holy shit.”

“I’m cold.”

Remus huffs, presses the unmute button then turns it down instead of up. “Well hold on a damn minute.”

“I'm cold.”

“Baby,” he warns, angrily punching a button. “Patience, please.”

“We left Moomie out there.”

“Moomie will be fine,” Remus curses. He finally gets the right channel and the volume on. “Moomie is sleepy. Moomie is already asleep.”

“I’m gonna tell her you said that,” Sirius mumbles. “Tell her daddy was being mean and doesn’t care about her.”

And oh, Remus is so high.

Curse Mega Bong and what it’s done to his brain.

The reaction is instantaneous, had he not already had a hand braced on the dresser, he might have nearly doubled over from it. Where it comes from? That’s up for debate and Remus doesn’t know. It could be any number of things, ranging from how Sirius looks: Indecent, is one word for it. Half asleep is another. Sweet could be used except Sirius knows what he’s doing, or did moments ago if his thoughts resemble scrambled eggs like Remus’ do at the moment.

Or it could be just one of those things.

Remus is just high enough to poke the bear and find out.

“What did you say?” It comes out rough. Remus clears his throat and that’s a hand running over his mouth, the other moving to his zipper and button.

“What?” Sirius, truly innocent of Remus’ crisis across the room, asks.

“Just now—say it again.”

Sirius sits up then, shuffling to his elbows on the bed and he’s squinting. Hair static, he says, “Uh—gonna tell Moomie that daddy was being mean.”

Remus swallows, his hands freeze ever so slightly as he’s yanking his jeans down, and Sirius sniffs it out like blood in the water. Both eyes wide now, over-baked and heavy, but then it’s a sly grin as he drawls, “Moony.” And then a gasp, “No way.”

Remus looks to the ceiling for answers. There are none.

“This is weird,” he mumbles. “Oh god.”

“Shut up,” Sirius says and Remus can hear the grin on his face, can hear the goddamn blankets shifting as he presumably crawls to the end of the bed, closer to Remus.

He glances, just a peek, and yep.

Remus tries, he really does. “Your dad—”

“As far as I’m concerned I was dropped on earth by a stork from heaven,” Sirius says. “Immaculate conception, I don’t really care, Moony. C’mon,” he whines.

Remus is silent. He’s so damn high, the air feels thick. He wants to fuck Sirius stupid, yet he’s not sure his limbs would cooperate. It’s nasty in his head, what’s swimming around. It’s taking on the form of a physical ache in Remus’ chest, tightness from the need, and too many coughing fits.

And Sirius strikes first. Sharp shark teeth have found the blood and he’s about to shake Remus ‘til he’s dead in the water.

“Oh,” he pouts, to Remus’ horror. “Daddy’s so mean.”

It’s horrifying. Remus is so hard. It’s not horrifying, it’s not something he’s ever, ever given thought, but upon a second glance at Sirius, who is now kneeling on the edge of their bed, hands in his lap, Remus is a weak man.

Weak. Pitiful. Useless against Sirius.

Sirius could call Remus a loser in bed and he’d still come so hard his vision whites out, no doubt about it.

“Moony, cmon. Indulge me?”

“You are so much trouble I don’t even know what the fuck to do with you,” Remus sighs before his pants are off and he’s on the bed.

Chapter 7: chapter 12: fuck disco

Remus would admit, with his whole chest and without a shred of hesitancy, that he hated disco.

In the same breath, he would also admit that he loved country music.

It came with the territory; who could blame him? Texas-born and raised, it’s what played on all the local radio stations. Remus used to stock beer and listen to Skynyrd, and he knew there was nothing worse than seeing someone wearing a nice, clean pair of boots.

Real cowboys don’t have nice boots.

Remus wasn’t a cowboy, but he had mowed the back pasture that one time.

Despite what one might argue after taking a look at him, he did own a pair of boots, quite beat up and dirty, thank you, but up until about a week ago, Remus hadn’t owned a hat in his life. They were a bit gaudy; Sirius had told him once years ago he had a big head.

Why would one want to slap a hat on that?

But Remus did now, much because of Sirius, and it seemed most things Remus used to lack and suddenly found himself in an abundance of were, somehow, due to his person. A good luck charm, a magnet to all sorts of chaos and delightful (most of the time) uncertainty, whatever it was.

That same person, Remus’ forever good luck charm, took precisely that moment to toss himself at Remus’ back, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as they made their way into the bar, shoving that cowboy hat further onto Remus’ head.

“I can’t see—”

“It’s a hat, Moons,” Sirius said, steering him towards the bar. “You’ve got a big head; shut up.”

The bar they had found in St. Louis was a pretty good imitation of something you’d see a few towns over back home. Flashy lights, but there were always a few bulbs out. The beer signs looked like they were hanging on for dear life on the wall, and a low murmur was going around, cutting through the music playing on the jukebox.

It wasn’t busy, but there were enough people to make it feel alive.

Nothing was top shelf, but it was comfortable. Gave Remus a little slice of back home after seeing all the entirely too fancy bars elsewhere. There was that smell to the air that told of one too many cigarettes smoked in a place with no windows.

Sirius was about to break his back by the time they met James and Lily at the bar, making Remus trip over his own feet as he found himself suddenly shoved to sit on a bar stool, and Sirius plopped himself down next to him.

After ordering their drinks, James sighed and swiveled in his chair with a bit of flare. Sirius was banging away at a new pack of cigarettes, and Remus watched him flip a lucky as a bottle slid in front of his face.

James settled Remus with a look. “Lils wants to play darts.”

“I’ve never played darts in my life.”

“Great, then she’ll win.”

—

Remus stood there, stock still, back and away, from Lily’s almost lethal elbow, and watched her throw her last dart. Quick, too fast to really see, it flew through the air.

Hit smack dab in the middle, along with the rest of them.

It wasn’t just impressive; it seemed a bit impossible. So impossible that Remus slowly made his way over to the board, letting his beer fall to his side as he leaned around, saw that, yeah, okay, all three darts had indeed hit the bullseye despite it seeming like, really, there wasn’t that much space.

Remus slowly turned his head and looked at Sirius, who was looking at him with wide eyes.

—

They were all getting progressively drunker, and Sirius, when drunk, loved middle fingers.

They had played the first game, and they were going to lose. It was very clear from the first time Lily was up and then the way Sirius had tossed the darts with so much goddamn concentration on his face. Remus took a sip of beer and wanted to kiss him stupid.

He really pulled up the rear, but there was no hope.

But the next game came with shots, and they weren’t doing too bad anymore.

Remus was fine with it; every time Sirius missed, he pouted and came and leaned his chin on the top of his head, watching how it was done.

But he had just thrown, and it was good. No, it was bad, but it was better, and for Sirius, that was enough.

He turned and tossed both middle fingers up to James and Lily sitting at their table situated in front of the dartboard they’d commandeered, empty bottles littering the surface, and wiggled them.

Up and down, both middle fingers before Sirius declared a suck it entirely too loud for someone who just scored fourteen.

“See that, Moons?” Sirius nudged his shoulder, reaching for his beer and taking a sip, holding his gaze as he drank. “We’re giving Evan’s a run for her money.”

“They have an almost seventy-point lead.”

Sirius winked and shoved the darts in Remus’ hand. “’M playing the long game.”

And the only advantage Remus had was that he was a bit taller than Sirius; his arms were a bit longer, so he could lean over the line a bit more when he tossed the darts. Hard, they landed, but Remus hadn’t quite gotten the hang of aiming.

He threw the first one and hit a twenty.

Remus threw the next one and hit a double eighteen.

Sighing, he glanced to his left at whatever was happening across the bar and tossed the last one.

Remus heard Sirius gasp first, silence in the house.

Silence and silence, and then it was Lily who yelled first.

“No—”

Sirius slammed into Remus’ back, jumping, wrapping him in a hug and jumping. Screaming, “Moons!”

Bullseye and they were in the lead.

—

Sirius was drunk, Remus was trying to beat him to the race and was watching with utter fascination, as usual, and Sirius tried to schmooze his way into something he wanted.

Darts had been long forgotten; they won the last game.

Then Sirius started talking to someone while Remus was at the bar. Then Lily left to talk with him, there was laughing and James asking Remus if he wanted to smoke. They smoked, came back in, and to his horror, Sirius and Lily were whispering. Giggling at the bar before Sirius grabbed his and Remus’ beer, turned around, and froze.

His mouth dropped open, and he took a sip of beer, staring across the bar with a look in his eye.

Never good.

But god, Sirius was so good at getting what he wanted. If Remus had been the man in front of him, he’d have already lost. Sirius only had to open his mouth, and Remus was poised and ready to say yes.

Of course.

Anything for you.

“So you let people get on that still?”

The man behind the bar leaned around and looked where Sirius was tossing a lazy thumb. Said, “Sometimes, no one really cares to, though.”

Sirius steadied the man’s gaze and raised his brows in disbelief. Glancing sideways at Remus, who swallowed, shook his head a bit because no—not doing that.

We’re riding high from winning darts, god willing, don’t get on the fucking bull.

“Ya know,” Sirius sighed, real heavy, and swiped a finger through the condensation on the bar. “I used to ride bulls—back home.” he paused, tacked on, “In Texas.”

“Oh really? Ride any Plummers?” The man asked, looking genuinely interested as Remus glanced between the two, and he fought back a laugh because of the way Sirius’ face fell ever so slightly.

He had no idea what the hell the man had just asked.

Remus didn’t either, but that was beside the point.

Sirius nodded slowly, which could be mistaken as something between understanding and noncommitment, and said, tight-voiced, airily, “Just love bull riding.”

—

Remus glanced at the man again, standing next to the massive mechanical bull. Off to the side, in the back of the bar, by the little box that controlled it, Remus watched Sirius try to throw a leg over the damn thing. Hopping, his pants too tight to really get him up there.

He watched in amusement, glancing at the man. “You knew he’s never even seen a bull in his life.”

The man only snorted, messing with a few buttons and switches, and tossed out an, “Oh, I know.”

And then the bull switched on, just for a moment. The man tossed out a whoops as Sirius swung a bit to the left, tossed off, banging his shin on the side of the thing. The floor under it was padded but not really, and Sirius looked terrified for a moment before steeling himself, glancing at Remus, and hauling himself back on the bull.

“Moons!” he yelled, and Remus gave him a big thumbs up, taking a sip of his beer and watching as James and Lily made their way back from the bar.

“He’s really getting on that thing?”

Remus hummed, tossing his beer in Sirius’ direction, both of him watching as he patted the top of it. Leaned around, checking out the massive thing.

“He’s gonna fall immediately.”

James was silent, shaking his head, but Lily leaned around and grinned as she looked at him. “Wanna bet?”

Remus glanced at Sirius one last time and then around. No one seemed to be sparing them a glance, which was strange because, well, it did look fun, but Sirius was entirely too confident for someone who looked like he was having a hard time straddling the thing in his pants, and he huffed a bit, tucking some hair away from his face before gripping the rope.

Tightening his grip, giving it a good ‘ol tug.

Remus shook his head. “Twenty bucks says he lasts at least twenty seconds.”

Lily scoffed. “Deal.”

—

Remus should really bet on Sirius more.

Honestly, and it wasn’t that he was predictable, quite the opposite, really. He opened his mouth? Never knew what was gonna come out of it. Looked at you and raised a brow? There should always be a bit of fear, lest Sirius do something insane.

He had the man, that bartender, looking at Remus like he had been lying.

Sirius lasted forty-seven seconds the first time.

The second? They turned the bull off.

The guy looked a mix between immensely impressed and a tad too annoyed, the line at his bar getting long. They weren’t busy; it was thinning out, but he was the only one there still working, had beers to serve, and had given Sirius a weary look, looking at James and Remus next and then Lily.

Her presence worked. Don’t be fooled, Remus wanted to say, but he had been, apparently, and handed over the reins—metaphorically.

Remus heard her laugh, and Lily twisted the knob the other way. Sirius went flying left, almost falling off.

“F-fuck you!”

With an evil laugh that time, James snorted into his beer.

Sirius was tossed right, and then bull bucked, and he shouted, loud, and Remus was staring in abject horror and delight. A bit of fear surely showed on his face, undisturbed even when Sirius made a full circle and smiled wide at him. The bull bucked again, sharp and quick, Lily cackling and trying to toss him up.

Like kids with toys, it was absurd.

Remus was just drunk enough to want to try.

—

And when Remus had said he wanted to try, he had not meant like this.

He had even tossed an anxious look toward the bartender, who only spared him a glance and left him to his fate. Continuing like Remus was not in mortal peril, with Sirius still on the bull, looking down at him.

His lids were a bit heavy; Remus wondered idly how good he’d be at it if he wasn’t halfway to pissed.

“You think you can ride, cowboy?” He drawled, tongue in cheek.

Remus spit his beer out, and Sirius jerked back.

“Fuck, Moons! Don’t spit your beer—” he yelled before cutting himself off, pausing, and raising a brow. Said once again, leaning into the inkling of a southern accent he could apparently still draw up, “You ready to ride?”

Even tipped an imaginary cowboy hot.

Remus watched the thought cross his mind and stood there, warm beer in hand, a bit of it on his lips from where he had spit. Prone and defenseless, Sirius leaned down, grabbing his cowboy hat and perching it right on top of his clearly normal-sized and very lovely head.

Remus took a deep breath, rallying.

The idea seemed no good for a multitude of reasons. A magnitude of reasons, and Sirius, well, he was looking down at him, and Remus wasn’t sure where he was meant to sit; the bull was long but not meant for two, clearly, and he tossed a weary look at Lily who only gave him a thumbs up.

Right.

Sirius held his hand out; Remus grabbed his arm, braced himself, and hauled himself onto the bull.

Behind Sirius. Mistake number one.

And it’s times like this, Remus didn’t really know what did it.

Couldn’t tell you—could maybe give you a few guesses—but the kicker was neither here nor there.

Remus settled behind Sirius, chest pressed to his back, and reached around. Tried to fix his ass to sit comfortably in the nice dip of the saddle, his legs pressed against the back of Sirius’, warm, and their feet were knocking, and Remus reached over, hands finding the inside of Sirius’ thighs, and gripped them.

Yanked them further apart, pressed himself closer, and held them tightly.

Leaning down, Remus was too drunk, oh no, and said, “You think you can ride, cowboy?”

And oh, yes, Sirius knew what he was doing.

He tossed a glance over his shoulder, skipping over James and Lily Remus knew were watching with feigned ignorance and disregard for what was clearly going on and about to go down in front of them, and gave Remus a look.

The one that meant trouble.

The jukebox kicked up, and Lily tossed her head back and laughed. The bull jerked forward, something tentative, and Remus wanted to thank her later for giving him a taste of what was just about to happen because it was—well.

Sirius jerked forward, his thighs still under Remus’ grip. He would have fallen, maybe, had Remus not been there and holding him still. His back arched, Remus couldn’t escape. Not when every inch of Sirius was tucked against his chest, he could feel Sirius’ ragged breaths, even, still a bit labored after his last ride.

And god damn you, Glen Campbell.

Southern nights Have you ever felt a Southern night?

And oh, they were tossed forward again. And then to the left, but before Remus could really start to figure out how to stay upright, Sirius threw a hand back, gripping Remus’ hip and keeping him close. Remus’ fingers tightened, and then they were spun.

Entirely too fast, Sirius let out a small yelp.

His leg wrapped around Remus’, curling tight as they leaned away from the spin, and Remus was not holding on to the bull; that was Sirius’ job. He was holding on to Sirius.

Free as a breeze Not to mention the trees Whistlin' tunes that you know and love so

Like his life depended on it, and really, it kind of did.

Southern nights

But that was mistake two, hand placement, as well as Remus underestimating Sirius’ drive to prove just about everyone wrong.

They were tossed back as the bull jerked raggedly, too far from smooth for it to be comfortable, and Remus was internally chanting no, no, no, but there was Sirius’ ass, shoved, thrown really, hard, against his cock.

Fitting real nice right between Remus’ spread thighs and then again before he could even take a breath. Try and catch his breath; it hurt but fuck.

Okay.

Lily was giving them a run for their money.

I apologize To anyone who can truly say That he has found a better way

“Lily!” Remus shouted, his voice wavering as Sirius leaned back into Remus, his hair all over Remus’ shoulder. Sputtering, trying to lean further over Sirius, who threatened to slide off the bull, jerking too far right when they were spun again, titled too far back, too quick.

Sirius yelled something, garbled and quick, something sounding like “Moony!”

Lily only yelled, “You’re doing great!”

Remus went to argue, to say no—nope.

I’m not doing good, actually. Please get me off this fucking thing because I’m just—fucking Sirius through his jeans right now, and I don’t know what I was thinking, but it wasn’t this, and Sirius is—fuck, he can't not know what is going on.

Lily, please.

She didn’t relent, instead turned it up faster.

Sirius lost the hat, it flew off somewhere to their left.

“Moons!”

Remus groaned and adjusted his sweating grip on the insides of Sirius’ thighs, pulling them apart further, trying to lean in and keep Sirius upright.

“Fuck.”

“Hold on tighter, god damn—”

“Sirius.”

“Don’t even right now,” Sirius shouted, leaning down over the front of the bull, causing Remus to lean over him. Hunched over, bodies shouldering rapidly, violently from side to side. Back and forth and then around; if Remus wasn’t so concerned about the state of Sirius’ ass grinding back against his cock just then, he might have thrown up, actually.

Remus would have to talk to Lily later because the bull was just—back and forth. Forward and back, and Sirius was letting out these little noises, breaths of air where Remus was hunched over his back, chin hooked on his shoulder, fingers digging aggressively into the inside of his thighs, trapped against the leather of the bull.

His knuckles hurt, but he didn’t want to fall.

Couldn’t fall, really. Might have to ride the bull for the rest of his life because Remus couldn’t get off because his jeans weren’t as tight as Sirius, but by god, he was hard.

He overheard James say something, laughing, and they got only a moment of reprieve, where Remus could feel Sirius’ heavy breaths, too much exertion before they were back to it.

It felt like it had been hours; it might have been

Southern skies Have you ever noticed Southern skies? (In southern skies)

Sirius was slammed back against Remus again, his ass coming off the seat a bit, and Remus grit his teeth. Felt the wind knocked out of him and coughed a “Sorry.”

Sirius only shook his head, and Remus felt his hand prodding under them.

Its precious beauty lies

Clearly not hanging onto the rope anymore before it was placed over Remus’ hand. Where his fingers were cramping from digging into his thigh so hard, fingers sweaty and trying to find the space between Remus’, Sirius’ head bowed, James jerked them around again, and the bull bucked.

Up and down, back and forth. Remus’ cock just—he was just slamming into Sirius.

Just beyond the eye it goes running through your soul Like the stories told of old

“Fuck—” Sirius cursed, broken and too high pitched when Remus adjusted again, tipping Sirius further forward, his shoulders lurching.

“What—”

“Stop talking.”

Feel so good Feel so good, it's frightening

Remus couldn’t think, and Sirius was arching his back then, leaning over the front of the bull. James was even worse than Lily; Remus chanced a glance at them and saw him lazily spinning the thing while taking a sip of beer.

“James.”

“Yeah?”

“Need—to get off,” Sirius groaned, cursing.

“What—”

“I’d like to have a working—fuck—cock,” Sirius panted, lifting again, shoving Remus to sit up a moment before they almost fell off the thing. Tipped backward, one of Remus’ hands left Sirius’ inner thigh, tightening around his waist. “For the rest of my life, Remus.”

Wish I could Stop this world from fighting

“Lils!”

“Y’all are doing great.”

“Nope!”

“Yep!”

Remus panted; Sirius’ knuckles were white on his own, where he was holding onto the rope. Sirius looked back at Remus, wide-eyed and cheeks flushed, and grimaced a moment before James flung them left, and he let go.

They were tossed, really.

They didn’t fall, they were tossed, and Remus’ hand was around Sirius’ waist, and they both went down, and it wasn’t a long fall or from very far up, but the force, really, knocked the breath out of Remus.

Sirius landed on top of him, it was entirely too compromising, and he was panting heavily, right on Remus’ shoulder. That spot near his neck and Remus was about to pass away. He was going to die, and they wouldn’t know; no one would know he was about to, what? come in his pants? and they’d blame it on the bull.

Death by the mechanical bull, no.

Not happening.

“Get up—”

“I—”

Remus only shook his head, shoving at Sirius’ chest before getting up on shaky legs, stumbling. James and Lily were watching with amusement; Remus looked at Sirius, hand on his knee, panting.

Bright-eyed, there was a split second where Remus thought, ‘Maybe just go back to the bar, get another drink,’ but then Sirius winked, heaved a breath, and Remus reached around.

Grabbed Sirius’ by the ass, looked at James, and tossed a “We’ll be in the car,’ over his shoulder as he hauled Sirius towards the door. He stumbled, pushing his hair away from his face, grinning with wickedness.

They made it maybe ten yards from the front door.

“You know what you’re doing,” Remus said as he pushed Sirius against the brick, the wall behind the bar. Really, a stone's throw from the truck, but that was too far, and Remus couldn’t get his legs to work, everything too focused on Sirius.

He heard a laugh escape his throat before Remus’ lips pressed roughly to the edge of his jaw.

Sirius arched into him, frantic as his knee came up, slotting between Remus’. Who shoved him against the brick again, once against keeping him still. Listening to the way Sirius’ breath was hitching, gearing back up again. The soft noise he made when Remus kissed.

“The—” Sirius teased, swallowing roughly. Remus could feel it. “The truck is—it’s over—”

“Too far,” Remus mumbled, shaking his head, hands working to find Sirius’ waistband, shoving up under his shirt, pressing against his chest. Warm and soft and Sirius and Remus pressed him against the wall again. Heard that same breath he was fighting so hard for leave his lips, a soft whimper before Remus suddenly gained too much clarity.

It went from Sirius to Sirius, and Remus was once against hauling him back. Towards the truck, Sirius tripped over his feet a few moments before catching up. A soft giggle left his lips; Remus couldn’t spare it a glance. It had deserved one, Remus wished he could have looked back to see what Sirius looked like just then, but it was all truck.

In the truck, lying down.

Horizontally, preferably.

Digging in his pocket with his free hand and finding the keys, the door to the truck was unlocked and opened, and the key was in the ignition in a split second which was a stunning display of capability, considering Remus was under the influence.

Even more surprising and just plain, downright exciting was the fact that as Remus leaned over to jam the keys into the ignition and turned the truck on, Sirius hopped up onto the driver’s seat, feet hanging out of the car, which was just perfect really because Remus attacked him about half a second later after the truck roared to life.

“You know what the fuck you’re doing,” Remus said, nodding as he amended his earlier statement with a bit more grief.

His hands were under Sirius’ shirt, and he wasn’t really sure what the end goal was, just more, more, more. Still, Sirius was beyond willing to go along with this vague and undetermined plan when Remus shoved at that shirt, and Sirius helped him pull it off, tossing it as he fell back, Remus pushing Sirius down on the seat.

The shirt hit the window with a soft thud, falling from sight as Sirius scrambled further into the truck, Remus following.

“Y-you ready to ride?’ Sirius said, but his voice betrayed him, the hint of a joke was there, even a slight laugh, but there was no air between them for it to cling to. For a smooth delivery, it lacked because it was not funny; nothing was funny about the way Sirius pulled Remus down, arching up into him.

A gasp left his lips as his hips searched for that same more.

I don’t know where it is, but let's find it, Remus wanted to say.

Instead, he was lost for words when it was Sirius’ lips on his skin. A kiss and then a lick, another lick, and then a wet kiss. Hands wrapped around Remus’ neck, scrambling at his back, fingers working to try and ruck Remus’ shirt up, but Sirius was failing, entirely too focused on how his lips molded against Remus’ shoulder.

His neck, that spot right under his ear.

“Everyone in that bar,” Remus groaned, eyes rolling as Sirius then bit. “Wished—looking at you like they, fuck, wanted to fuck you.”

Remus’ knee hit the steering wheel; he didn’t even feel it.

Instead said, “You’re a fucking tease, and you know it.”

“Moony’s jealous?” Sirius gasped, nodding as he said it like he was eager to hear the answer. Like he wanted Remus to say yes, yes, I am jealous.

Well.

“Yeah.”

Sirius grinned against his collar, finally getting his fingers under the back of Remus’ shirt, finding the hem, and tore it over his head, Remus ducked to help get it off before Sirius said, “What—you wish you could fuck me?”

“You don’t wanna know.”

“You taste like bud,” Sirius gasped before they were kissing again.

Nothing romantic, that was fine. It wasn’t candles and rose petals, and Sirius looked and sounded and tasted like maybe he didn’t need that anyway. Which was fine and worked out great, really, because Remus could still lay it on thick, and he did.

Finding the door, tucking his foot into the handle and yanking it closed.

It was impressive.

Sirius laughed.

Remus bit at his bottom lip, silenced that laugh because his heart was already about to explode, crack his ribs, and he worried it between his teeth as he tasted Sirius again. The laughter broke off into a gasp. It was messy, too wet, and Sirius was all over Remus, his hands. Down his back, warm against the night air in the truck.

Running over Remus’ waist, up his chest, over his shoulders.

Overload of the senses, Sirius’ lips against Remus anywhere he could find a place to place them.

Sirius pulled back, and Remus made a noise in the back of his throat. Couldn’t even say he wasn’t proud of it because there was a moment of panting, Sirius resting on his elbows. Shirtless, all the red around him, the light from a streetlamp too far away trying to reach them.

Remus was on his knees before him, and Sirius’ chin was wet with spit—he could see where it was running down his chin and hadn’t quite made it into Remus’ mouth.

And he could see it shining, and Sirius looked debauched—like if you hadn’t known, you would have thought he had just been throughout and extensively fucked.

And that was just the most enticing concept Remus had ever considered.

Then everything started up again the moment Remus reached over and turned the radio on. His mouth tasted like Sirius’ spit, and he cursed before leaning down again.

But baby, since I've been loving you, yeah I'm about to lose my, my worried mind, oh yeah

And this time, Sirius was ready and so pretty, arching up into Remus’ touch. His mouth searched and found Remus’ ready, and it was filthy. It was exactly what needed to be going on, and it was, and Remus was not immune to the fact that, fuck, okay—Led Zeppelin three was maybe a bit better.

And Sirius felt like a dream.

Everybody trying to tell me That you didn't mean me no good

Time did not slow; it lost meaning.

It had no place there, not when Sirius was kissing him like he thought every next move of his lips, every next taste, would be enough. But it wasn’t, and he came back for more with a vengeance on his tongue, in the bite and nip of his teeth.

The way his hands were working against Remus’ back, the way his knee was drawing up, pressing between Remus’ legs, his hips working, shaky movements against his cock. Sirius couldn’t be still to save his life; Remus was finding this a problem as he tried to kiss, consume, really.

I've been, I've been working from seven to eleven every night I said, it kinda makes my life a drag, drag, drag, drag

His fingers fumbled against the seat, holding himself up, pressing into Sirius as he found his hands, yanking them away as Sirius gasped, their cocks brushed, and his wrists were shoved against the seat.

Remus let out a huff and went in for another taste. Craved and loved the feel of Sirius’ teeth.

Since I've been loving you I'm about to lose my worried mind, yeah

“Look at you,” Remus panted when he finally pulled back. Away and it hurt, but Sirius was looking up at him with a glazed look. Lips red and swollen, and his cheeks were pink, a soft blush. Leading down his neck, his chest, and Remus knew it must taste divine.

Otherworldly, he leaned down and tried it.

Groaned and mumbled against Sirius’ hot skin, “Sit up—up.”

Sirius, god, fuck, looked like he was trying. But like his brain was not quite working fast enough, he was still stuck on getting a kiss. Another taste, Remus gave him one but pulled Sirius up, back falling against the seat, Sirius settling in his lap.

Another kiss and Sirius stumbled, fell a bit, and his knees settled on either side of Remus’ thigh.

Change of plans, Remus tossed himself back, fell against the seat, and switched their positions. He felt Sirius slump against him; the way he gasped when Remus’ thigh pressed between his thighs should have been criminal.

Lock this man up; he knows what he’s doing.

Fuck—he’s trying to kill me.

And then it was a moment where Remus just looked, stared up at Sirius above him.

Hair fell in his face, intoxicating to watch as it untucked itself from behind his ear as he gave a tentative rock to his hips. Just slight, but Remus groaned, threw his head back, and looked out the window when he felt Sirius hard, cock pressed against his pants, digging into Remus’ thigh.

“Like this?” Sirius panted, voice wobbling as he shot a hand out, steadying himself on the dash.

“Please—yes.”

Oh, my tears they fell like rain Don't you hear them, don't you hear them falling?

In lieu of a response, it was Sirius moving his hips again. Grinding them down, falling forward, both his hands resting on Remus’ chest. Nails biting into his bare skin, hair brushing Remus’ face as Sirius rolled his hips. Rut his cock against Remus’ leg, hard and unmistakable.

“Oh, fuck—”

“Please, baby,” Remus nodded, hands going to Sirius’ waist to steady him. To help, to move him faster, harder. Remus needing to feel more, wanted to feel so much he imploded. Died on the spot, the feeling of a fever dream thick in his veins.

“That’s—that’s not my name,” Sirius whispered against his lips, tossing his hair to the side, forehead resting against Remus’. “Not my fuckin’ name,” he panted.

“Baby, I—”

“Moons.”

“Sirius, fuck—”

Do you remember, mama, when I knocked upon your door? I said you had the nerve to tell me

And Remus’ words were cut off, Sirius clearly spurred on, and he was riding Remus’ thigh. He gave it all he had, the movement a sweet and slow vision. Remus felt Sirius’ back move with it; the way it arched under his fingers as he almost wrung Remus dry was a little death in itself.

You didn't want me no more, yeah

Life sucked out of him. Devoured as Sirius kissed him. Trying to steady his breath, having to gasp between every other kiss or so, trying to catch his thoughts. Sirius eyes were blown wide, glassy, and it wasn’t that he was not seeing; he was only seeing Remus, and he felt flayed open and like the world was right there in that truck.

Remus swallowed down the soft moans and whimpers, the broken syllables of what once could have been his name.

And Remus would tease him all day—until his words were jumbled, messy things with tears in his eyes—but Remus fully intended on giving Sirius anything he wanted at that moment and always.

What Sirius wanted, clearly, by the way his fingers had snaked down to his zipper, was Remus’ cock in hand.

I've been working from seven, seven, seven to eleven every night It kinda makes my life a drag, a drag, drag Ah, yeah, it makes a drag

And he found it a moment later, deft fingers undoing Remus’ button, shoving and arching his shoulder to reach a hand into his boxers. Remus helped so kindly, lifting his hips, Sirius gasping as he pushed at each side of Remus’ jeans.

Yanking them down enough to pull his cock free, wrapping a warm hand around it.

Sirius glanced down; his hips faltered. “You’ve got a pretty cock, fuck.”

And Remus was so taken back, his brain absolutely obliterated when it finally came to understand, like it was all suddenly catching up to him, he didn't realize the song had changed.

How silent it had been, the sound of Sirius saying his name. What resembled it, at least. Those forceful breaths, stilted and hitched, Remus missed that when the next song started. When Sirius looked down and paused just long enough to spit on Remus’ cock, before moving his hand.

Remus was out of it; he was floating above his body. He had no control over the situation, and by god, he just wanted to ride it out.

Ready to fuckin’ ride.

Sirius leaned down to find his mouth again, those hips rolling faster. Back and forth, Remus was moving as well, jerking into Sirius’ wet palm, when he heard James from somewhere beyond them.

Interrupting his words, Remus choked out, “Faster, Sirius.”

Too far away but quiet and there. Enough for Remus to curse, remember, just for a split second before Sirius twisted his wrist like that, said Moony like that, that they were in the truck in the parking lot of a bar.

His thoughts were thin, flitting between the way Sirius’ fingers were working over him and visions of public indecency charges. But Remus would do it; he’d go to jail and then the ends of the earth right after he was sprung, just to hear Sirius say his name in that breathy, needy way.

Sirius, immune to the shuffle, Remus’ hand just found the volume dial, enough to twist it. Fingers falling, the music suddenly loud, picking up, and Sirius was kissing him. His jaw ached; Remus could get enough.

Sirius’ tongue behind his teeth, on his chin. It was hardly smooth; neither of them seemed worried. Remus was so far past concerned as he licked into Sirius’ mouth, trying to make a place for himself as deep down as he could get.

Sirius asked all sorts of absurd questions while Remus barrelled toward the point of no return.

“Can I make you come?”

Fuck.

If we still have time, we might still get by Every time I think about it, I wanna cry

“You can do anything you want to me,” Rmeus said, wide-eyed and breathy. His hands found Sirius’ waist, feeling him move until he missed his face, a shaky hand broken up by pants and gasps as Sirius jerked him off, tucking Sirius’ hair behind his ear.

Trying, failing.

He gave up, skated his fingers through it, gripped it, and tugged it out of the way.

With bombs and the Devil, and the kids keep comin'

Sirius groaned and gave it his all. Determined to utterly ruin Remus, he was not riding his thigh; he was fucking his thigh.

No way to breathe easy, no time to be young

Looked like a dream doing it, too. Head pulled back by his hair, lips parted in pleasure. Gasps, not quite making it out, Sirius licked his lips to wet them, opened his eyes, and looked down at Remus.

Remus cursed, loud and abrupt from the look in Sirius’ eyes. Cutting through the music, his own moans, all of it.

“Fuck.”

“You gotta be quiet, Moons,” Sirius whispered, face pulling up into a breathy grin. “Shhh.”

But I tell myself that I was doin' all right There's nothin' left to do at night But go crazy on you

“Fuck, look at you.”

“Quiet.”

Remus was utterly silent as a gasp left his lips, and he nodded. Listening, being good and quiet, and trying. Wholly agreeing with whatever was happening because Sirius’ palm was hot, slick, and wet, and he spit again. Remus felt it fall between his fingers, over his cock. Sirius’ hand working faster.

“Y-yeah, baby—”

“Sirius.”

“Baby, I’m—I, fuck.”

And there was no warning, maybe only the slight faltering of Sirius’ hips before he pushed against Remus’ fingers in his hair, leaning down and capturing his lips. Biting down, letting out a long-winded gasp, turning into a groan. Remus’ hands instead found his ass, those pants, and pulled him closer.

My love is the evenin' breeze touchin' your skin The gentle, sweet singin' of leaves in the wind

Ground up into his hand, pulled Sirius against his thigh harder. Grinding up into him, everything too close and hot and breathy. Wet and slick, Sirius on top of him, the weight an utter delight.

The whisper that calls after you in the night And kisses your ear in the early moonlight

The way Sirius said: “I–I’m coming.”

The way he said Remus’ name: “Remus.”

And you don't need to wonder, you're doing fine

Pleading, pitiful. Falling, slipping, and Remus was right behind him. Nails digging into Sirius’ thighs, the meat of his hips, and arching up into him. Sirius worked Remus through it, unrelenting, slicking his cock with his come as he came.

My love, the pleasure's mine

His hips jerked; the way Sirius cried out, tucking his head into the crook of Remus’ neck, would have thrown him over the edge had he not already been plummeting. Drowning and surrounded by Sirius, heavy on top of him, holding him down and taking from Remus wanted he wanted.

Lips parted, brushing against Remus's skin. His tongue hot and wet as Sirius buried his head in the crook of Remus’ neck.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of HIGHWAY NINETY