Chapter Text
Laughter spills out onto the late December street from the pub that Remus passes in front of. He pauses on the threshold, catching a glimpse of his silhouette in the dark glass: limp curls hidden by his beanie, shoulders that are curved in on themselves to hide a rail thin frame despite his worn coat. He keeps his hands shoved deep in his pockets but even so, he feels the warmth of the pub on his skin, especially when the door opens and a group of people step out. Remus takes a hasty step back to stay out of the way and one polite straggler holds it open for him.
Remus hesitates, then nods his thanks with a wan smile and a cheers, stepping into the pub and breathing in the scent of greasy food and beer. He wavers, back against the door, but the combination makes his willpower crumble, and before he knows it he's sliding into an empty seat at a dark corner of the bar and slipping his hands out of his pockets, rubbing them together to get the feeling back into the frozen digits.
While he waits for the bartender to notice him, he glances around, gaze rolling off chatty couples with a pang of longing. He hasn't been with anyone for a long time, too busy working and trying to afford to keep the lights on at his parent's old cottage. In the summer, he has a garden and two jobs, but in winter he has nothing but his books, an empty house, and his job at the combination cafe and bookstore downtown he's lucky stays open even part-time.
Wales is a quiet place, so different compared to the period of time after school when for a while everything was pure excitement and chaos; living in London, being close to James and Lily and little baby Harry, exploring his sexuality and living day to day while going to college. Then his mother got sick and he dropped out and moved home, then his father passed unexpectedly followed in quick succession by his mother, and then he had a cottage to take care of, hospital bills to pay, and meager funds in the bank, and everything came crashing down around his shoulders.
He blinks as someone slides into the seat beside him, and blinks again when he glances up and gets a good view of them. Tall, with long black hair that slips over his shoulders like silk, eyes that practically glow in the light. Sharp jaw, straight nose, and a smile that takes Remus' breath away. The stranger looks him in the eye, and Remus realizes they're a light, silvery grey. His skin has a sort of shine to it, or maybe he's sitting under the light, but either way, he's breathtaking, and looking at Remus like he can read his entire soul. Remus inhales sharply and drops his gaze.
The stranger waves down the bartender, who comes right over immediately, gaze sliding over Remus like he's not there and focusing on the beautiful man beside him. Figures, Remus thinks dully, pursing his lips and folding in on himself a little more.
"…and a dark stout for my friend here," the man says, wrapping an arm around Remus and pulling him close, clasping his bicep with his hand and giving it a supportive squeeze. Remus stiffens under the touch and the stranger drops his arms immediately. When Remus looks up, the stranger's brow is furrowed and he's looking at Remus like he's a puzzle to figure out.
Remus bristles. "How did you know my order?"
"Oh, is it? Lucky guess," the man says with a loud bark of a laugh that attracts attention from half the bar. He doesn't seem to notice, holding out his hand. "I'm Sirius."
Apt. Remus hesitates a moment, then take his hand. "Remus."
"Lovely to meet you, Remus," Sirius says, and his accent is an old posh drawl, a throwback to a different era. Somehow, despite his leather jacket and scuffed up jeans and boots, the accent suits him. "What are you doing here all by your lonesome?"
"I'm always alone," Remus scoffs, then winces. He's not sure why he'd say something like that to a stranger. The bartender drops their drinks in front of them and Remus takes his immediately for something to do with his hands and traitorous mouth, taking a sip.
Sirius seems to have ordered a fruity cocktail of some sort, a bright orange color with an umbrella sticking out of it. Sirius beams at the bartender and hands the man his card. "Open a tab for us?" Sirius asks, before Remus can protest. The bartender, a portly man in his late fifties who has run this place since Remus was small, glances from Sirius to Remus for the first time and shoots him a knowing smile.
Sirius turns his attention back to Remus as though he's the most interesting thing in the room, and Remus' empty stomach gives a swoop. He keeps his own gaze on his beer, running his thumb along the condensation building on the side of the glass.
"Are you hungry?" Sirius asks, and when Remus glances up he meets those grey eyes and his cheeks flush.
"Do you always try to feed everyone you just met?"
Sirius laughs again. "Only the hungry ones."
He draws the bartender over again and places an order for a plate of rarebit, just the thing Remus didn't realize he needed. Sirius hums once the bartender is off again, and returns his attention to Remus.
"So, tell me about yourself, Remus," Sirius says, settling his chin on his hand and looking for all the world like he'd rather be nowhere else.
And Remus is helpless to do anything but. Sirius listens as Remus talks between bites about going to school in the Scottish highlands, about his friends and Harry, who he hasn't seen much over the past decade. He's surprised to find himself settling into the conversation, and whenever he wavers, Sirius gently prompts him. He keeps his drink full and when Remus polishes off one plate of rarebit, orders another, and Remus forgets himself, he keeps talking, keeps drinking, keeps eating. Before long Remus is beyond stuffed and sleepy and takes him entirely too long to realize that he's been talking for far over an hour. He hasn't given Sirius space to talk at all.
"God, I'm so sorry," Remus rasps when he realizes, shame making his throat go tight. "I'm not usually so… so talkative, or rude. Let me help pay for—for all of this?"
At some point he stopped paying attention to how many drinks they'd had—no, he'd had, Sirius has nursed his pretty orange cocktail for a long time, and he's not even quite sure how many plates of rarebit he'd polished off on his own. Sirius had certainly not taken a bite, Remus would have noticed. He only knows that he's content and full to bursting, and Sirius is paying for all of it.
"It's alright," Sirius says, stroking a hand down Remus' arm and giving his hand a squeeze. "I want to. Would you let me walk you home, Remus?"
And Remus, powerless before those grey eyes, nods, cheeks flushed.
Sirius doesn't let go of his hand, leading the way out of the pub and into the bracing cold air that doesn't even seem so bad anymore. He steps close to Sirius, who doesn't mind, just gives his hand another supportive squeeze.
"Do you have a dream, Remus?" Sirius asks, as Remus takes them around the bend and off the main street of town and toward his lane.
"Not really. Not anymore," Remus sighs wearily. "Now I'm just tired."
Sirius makes a soft noise, and does the unthinkable. He lifts their joined fingers to his mouth and gives Remus' hand a kiss. "What would make you happy, love?"
Remus stops walking, turning to look at Sirius, taking him in. In the moonlight he seems to glow, and even his dark hair seems to sparkle with starlight. He seems nearly ethereal out here, away from the streetlights of town. Remus swallows down a heavy lump, and all he can think is I don't want to be alone anymore.
He can't tell if he said the words out loud or not, but Sirius steps closer until they're chest to chest, and strokes his hand down Remus' jaw, over his chin, tilting it up just slightly until their mouths are nearly touching. "Would you let me give you what you want?"
Remus exhales, crossing the distance between their mouths and delicately sealing their lips together in a tentative kiss. Sirius makes a small noise of encouragement, gripping the back of Remus' neck with his hand, deepening the kiss, licking into his mouth. Sirius' mouth tastes nothing like Remus has ever tasted before; all caramel and spices, like a warm cookie just taken out of the oven. It sends warmth down his spine and pooling in his gut, and he loses himself to it, reveling in the taste akin to a decadent treat, in the just-right pressure of Sirius' mouth on his, in the soft fingers in his hair, cupping his face.
By the time they break to breathe, Remus has fully melted against Sirius, aching bones turned to jelly and warmth swirling down his spine. Sirius draws back just enough to press their foreheads together, his grey eyes warm and inviting. Eventually, Remus breaks away, leading him on to his cottage, and Sirius stops at the gate, looking at the cottage with a wistful expression.
"I'll be back in the morning," Sirius says, releasing Remus' hand and stepping back. Remus shakes his head in protest, swooping in to kiss Sirius and cross the distance until they're chest to chest and hips to hips. He can feel his erection already straining in his trousers. Sirius strokes through Remus' hair, cupping the back of his head, and his mouth falls open with a small noise, letting Remus in, letting him flick his tongue into his mouth and slide over his. Remus kisses him like he has nothing to lose, and he really doesn't, but Sirius seems to come back to himself at once, stiffening beneath Remus' hands and tearing his mouth away with a wet gasp.
He strokes his thumb along Remus' jaw, over his stubble, up his cheek, and curls a strand of hair behind his ear, drawing it down to press below his lower lip. "Please come in," Remus murmurs, sucking Sirius' finger into his mouth.
Sirius gives a minute shake of his head. "You're perfect," Sirius says softly. "I'll be back in the morning, Remus."
Remus sighs, steps back from the most gorgeous person he's ever seen, and gives a stiff nod. When he smiles it feels stiff and awkward on his face. "Alright, good night, Sirius. Thank you for everything."
He's certain that he's never going to see him again.
By the time he's gone up the wonky stone pathway to the front door of the cottage and opened the door, he turns around for one last look and Sirius is nowhere to be found.
Remus wakes disoriented in his bed, face shoved in his pillow and legs tangled in his sheets. He'd tossed the comforter onto the floor at some point during the night and had—oh god, fallen asleep utterly naked. He snuffles against the pillow, closing his eyes against the morning light shining through his sheer curtains. After a long moment of lying there, recalling silver-grey eyes that saw right through him, a lingering, heady kiss that he could still taste, and the heaviness of his heart when he realized Sirius was no longer there.
Remus rolls over onto his back, then drags himself to his feet, going through the motions of a Saturday morning. He has nothing to do today but wait anxiously to see if Sirius really will show up or not, and he uses the nervous energy to clean up around the cottage, scrubbing out the loo and kitchen, vacuuming the living room, sorting his stacks of books back onto the shelves where they belong. He's standing in the middle of the room, looking for something to do when he hears a soft knock at the front door.
His heart leaps to his throat and he jumps in place, staring at the door until that knock comes again, a little louder. He releases a pent up breath and strides the couple of feet to the door, opening it with trembling fingers.
There, on the threshold, hands in the pockets of his ridiculously out of season leather jacket, stands Sirius, looking just as ethereal as he had the night before, if not more. In the morning light he glows, and when his eyes alight on Remus his smile is nothing short of breathtaking. A swoop of heat rushes through his gut.
"Good morning," Sirius chirps, eyes crinkling cutely when he smiles. "May I come in?"
Remus makes a garbled noise that might sound like a good morning if you listened really hard and steps back, holding the door open for Sirius to enter. As Sirius passes, he gets a whiff of his scent and breathes in deeply: it's a scent he can't name, one that reminds him of all the good, warm things in the world. He closes the door as Sirius glances around, then bends over to take off his boots.
After a long moment of putting the pieces of his brain back together, he clears his throat. "Would you like tea?"
Sirius huffs out a laugh, as though the very thought is amusing to him. "Sure, that would be great."
Remus leads him to his kitchen, motioning to the small table in the corner. He'd cleared it just an hour ago where it had been stuffed full of old mail, papers, and junk. He's glad he thought do it. Sirius sits, settling his chin in his hand and watching Remus as though he's the most interesting thing in the world again. He'd done that last night too, head tilted and smile nearly reverent as he'd watched him.
"I only have Earl Grey, is that okay?"
"Whatever works for me," Sirius says with a shrug of one shoulder, and Remus nods, nerves making his hands shake as he boils water and preps their mugs. It's quiet as he works, and whenever he glances at Sirius beneath his lashes he's surprised to see him still watching Remus, looking riveted.
Eventually, the water boils and Remus loses the buffer between them. "How do you take it?" Remus asks.
"Three sugars, dash of milk," Sirius says promptly, and when Remus shoots him a disbelieving look he just shoots him an innocent smile. "I have a sweet tooth."
"Right," Remus says, filing the information away and hoping he'll get to use it more than once. He settles down across from Sirius, passing him his tea, which Sirius takes and lifts to his lips, taking a small sip.
"Perfect," Sirius praises, and Remus flushes.
The word triggers a memory from the night before, and Remus has an internal battle with himself over bringing it up or not. Before he can though, Sirius breaks the silence. "You are perfect," he says with a soft, reverent voice. Remus' head shoots up, eyebrows furrowing.
"How do you—"
Sirius sits back with a soft sigh, chewing on his bottom lip. He looks at him for a long moment that borders on uncomfortable, then asks: "What do you think about aliens, Remus?"
"Wha-," Remus blinks, thrown by the question. "They make a good story."
A bark of a laugh that coils warmth through Remus' belly, and then Sirius nods his head. "That's for sure." Sirius looks Remus in the eye, searching for something. He must find it, because he continues, "What if I told you we weren't just a story?"
Remus blinks rapidly, honing in on the 'we'. "What do you mean?"
Sirius' grey eyes pin him to his seat. "If I were to tell you I'm a part of the last family of a race from a lost planet, what would you say?"
His first thought is to laugh, and he does feel the tug of a smile on one corner of his mouth, but there's something about the intensity he's being looked at with that has his stomach squirming. Like he wants to believe him. "I'd say you might like sci-fi a smidge too much," Remus says eventually, despite the feeling in his gut.
Sirius smiles, a tiny, beautiful, sad thing, and his eyes get a little misted over. "I don't blame you," Sirius says. "But I would never lie to you, Remus."
Remus' heart clenches at Sirius' expression, and he's certain that whatever the truth is, this is the truth that Sirius believes in. "Even if you were an alien, why would you come to earth?"
With a quirk of an eyebrow, Sirius gestures to Remus. "Because of you. Well, because of humans. There are so many of you and you're the perfect hosts. You're warm bodied, and capable of so much kindness. You're so tender with your families, and you don't abandon your children."
Remus is shaking his head before he quite realizes it. He looks down at his tea, tracing the edge of his mug with his thumb. "Not every family. We're also capable of unimaginable horrors." He hesitates, not sure if he should entertain Sirius' fantasy or not, but unsure how else to get through to him. "If I were an alien, I would find a different planet."
"Would you?" Sirius asks softly. When Remus glances up, it's Sirius' eyes that catch and hold his attention. They're radiant, holding a light of their own. "If you were the last of your kind, would you not be desperate to be anything but alone?"
"I thought you said you had a family."
A soft scoff, and Sirius rolls his eyes. "Extremists hellbent on reproducing with themselves until we inbreed to extinction. No, my brother and I—we ran. We just need to find a willing host, someone who wouldn't mind having a family, someone who is as lonely as we are."
A shiver runs down Remus' spine. "That's why you're here. That's what I'm perfect for."
Sirius bites his bottom lip and looks away with a nod. "My brother told me to find a host and abduct them but… last night, you were so… you're just so lovely. I couldn't do it. You deserve to decide for yourself."
"Thanks for giving me autonomy," Remus says dryly, and Sirius snorts, draining his tea. He sits back, twining his fingers together and placing them on the table, those luminous eyes watching Remus' every move. "If you're an alien, how come you look just like a human?"
"Oh," Sirius splays his fingers out, clenching and opening them in front of himself. "We can shapeshift."
"Of course you can," Remus mutters under his breath. "Can you show me your true form, then?"
Sirius hesitates, teeth digging into his bottom lip. He holds Remus' gaze, which Remus returns evenly. After a weighted, pregnant pause, he sags. "You won't panic?"
"No promises," Remus says lightly, just to make that smile return to Sirius' lips.
Sirius nods to himself, shrugging off his jacket and pulling his shirt over his head.
"Is that necessary?" Remus asks, mouth going dry at the sight of Sirius' fit chest.
Sirius gives a wan smile. "It is."
Then he releases a pent up breath and closes his eyes, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. His entire body shudders and convulses, gripping the sides of the table as he folds over himself and his face contorts in pain just before he hides it in the curve of his arm. He doesn't scream, but his shoulders hunch, and his long hair threads through with what look like tendrils. His fingers become thinner, nails more claw-like, but it's the way his skin turns a shimmery transparent grey that seems to collect light and exposes purple veins, and the way what Remus can only describe as wings burst from his back. Sirius gives a small, keening sort of whine as the mutation fades to a stop, and when he raises his head, Remus can't help but gasp.
There's no other way to describe it—Sirius' eyes shine like stars, luminous black pupils struck through with light. He's eerily humanoid, and when he stands he still stands on two feet his wings flutter a bit, like they're helping him keep balance. His mouth is thinner and longer, jaw more pointed, and his nose is more of two nostrils on his smooth face. Gone are the sharp cheekbones, the eyebrows, and the neck that holds his head up looks far more fragile, and as Remus draws his gaze down the expanse of Sirius' body, his eye catches on the prominent bulge at his crotch.
Sirius raises his arms with a shrug and a quirk of his lips that can only be a smile, though it looks odd on his face.
"Oh," Remus gasps, so glad he's sitting down because if he wasn't he'd be on the floor.
"Oh," Sirius repeats, the sound of his voice akin to the low rumble of a timpani drum roll. It's soothing.
He's gaping, mouth hanging open, taking in every detail, every shimmer when Sirius shifts, every twitch. The way the two tendrils that burst from the sides of Sirius' temple seem to float on their own, as though they're in water. He clenches his eyes closed, then opens them again, but nope: the vision before him is still the same.
"Jesus fuck," he breathes, and stands on wobbly feet. He's taller than Sirius is like this, which is weird when his human form is a good three inches taller than him, and Sirius blinks up at him, going still as Remus reaches out and gently traces his fingers down Sirius' smooth arm. It's soft like skin despite the shimmer, and he traces down to Sirius' hand and takes it in his own carefully, mindful of what look like deadly claws. He runs his hand over the knuckles, examines the way the tendons shift under the skin, and releases a punched out breath.
His mind reels as everything hits him at once and his entire universe tilts on its axis. There's an alien in his kitchen. An alien with feathers that looks like he's made of pure starlight. An alien that came from lightyears away to save his race from extinction, to use Remus as a host. Who couldn't kidnap him and came back in the morning to ask him in the face of rejection or worse, Remus could lock him up and call—god, he didn't know. MI6? Remus isn't sure what would happen to him if he said no now that Sirius' secret has been exposed, but somehow he doesn't see this benevolent alien killing him.
Not that he's going to.
"What do I have to do?" Remus asks softly, gut twisting with anticipation.
Sirius' entire body lights up, a glow beneath his skin pulsing, radiant and warm. Happiness. It's a literal happy glow. "You mean it?" Sirius asks, though the vowels seem especially hard for him to pronounce because—because his tongue is pointed and his canines are sharp. Sirius makes a noise of annoyance, then pulls back from Remus. He holds up a claw-like finger. "Wait."
His entire body shudders and shivers, and Remus watches with fascination as Sirius' body twists and fits itself down into the very human shape Remus had met. He notes with curiosity that this transformation doesn't seem nearly as painful. He opens his mouth to ask, but then Sirius is looking at him, sparkling eyes and skin still shimmering with that light, and he gathers Remus into a tight hug, holding him close.
"Thank you," Sirius breathes in his ear, "thank you so much."
Remus hesitates only a moment before he returns the hug, placing them hesitantly around Sirius' bare waist. Held in Sirius' arms he feels oddly safe, like nothing in the world can touch him. Despite how much his mind is reeling, he's helpless to do anything but tuck his face against the curve of Sirius' neck and shoulder and breathe him in. Sirius holds him a beat longer than proper, and when he pulls back Remus is surprised to see tears in his eyes.
"Don't thank me yet," Remus says lightly, attempting a smile. "At least wait until I don't head for the hills first."
Sirius laughs, breathlessly, and strokes up Remus' arms in a calm, soothing gesture. "Point," Sirius says, but he's still smiling that radiant smile and oh, what Remus wouldn't do to keep that smile in his life. "Right, well. At least let me court you?"
"' Court me'?" Remus repeats with a soft laugh. "This isn't the thirteenth century, sweetheart."
Sirius tilts his head endearingly. "But it would be better to get to know each other."
"To start a family?" Remus asks, slipping his hands along Sirius' smooth back. "Yeah, absolutely."
Sirius hums and noses forward, tilting his head and pressing their lips together; Sirius' lips are far warmer, far softer than Remus thought they would be. He's not sure what he expected, but he certainly didn't expect Sirius to feel so real against him after the shift. "Then we'll date."