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Chapter Text

July 15th 1988

The sky was grey; it usually was in Edinburgh, but it was a different kind of grey which Sirius had never really seen before. It was calming and beautiful and perhaps even romantic. God he must have been really drunk if he was lamenting on how romantic the streets of Edinburgh were at 4 am in the morning. Not two minutes ago they had walked past a regurgitated Kebab on the pavement and had leapt over a mysterious yellow stream which was running down the Old Town steps which led to Victoria Terrace. Very Romantic.

Maybe the romance of the night was down to sentimentality. Tonight had been a pretty momentous occasion in their university careers: graduation. Four years of supposed hard work culminating in a night of celebration.

Or perhaps the romance was all down to the fact that Sirius’ best mate, James Potter was currently snogging the face off a girl he had been chasing for the better part of two years. They were all over the place; joined as one at the lips, staggering against gravity. Sirius stood and watched in disgust. Two years of pining and pursuing to end up in this: a drunken fumble which no doubt was going to turn into tears the next morning when Miss Evans came to her senses. Poor James.

Sirius frowned at this. No, not poor James. It was all he deserved breaking his pact he had made with Sirius. Tonight was to be about them: no pulling. Sirius had kept up his end of the bargain, but James…

Maybe Sirius shouldn't be so hard on him considering the unlikeliness of the conquest. Lily had repeatedly refused the tall boy’s advances at steady rate since second year; how was James to know she would cave tonight. No, Sirius couldn't be sore with him after all. Tonight was the last night; a night of last chances so who was Sirius to begrudge him that?

It did mean he had missed out on a last night of drunken student sex. He could begrudge James that. There had been several of the University hockey team members in the union tonight and Marlene McKinnon had looked spectacular too but Sirius steadfastly stuck to the agreement. More bloody fool him.

He watched James and Lily swaying for a moment and realised belatedly that they're drunken course was heading in his direction. He took a step backwards to avoid the collision and got a monumental shock to find that he had collided into someone else instead. Turning around sharply he was met with with a stunned pair of Amber eyes. His own widened at the realisation he had forgotten it hadn't just been the three of them. Lily’s quiet friend had been with them all this time and Sirius had completely blanked him by accident. He stared at him in bewilderment, as if never seeing him before, which was ridiculous because Sirius did know who he was; he even knew his name. Remus Lupin.

Remus Lupin was, as previously mentioned, best friends with the girl James had been obsessed with so of course Sirius knew who he was. They had even spoken before. Sirius knew he was a Politics and English Graduate and had even shared some classes with James in the former subject. He also knew the boy was fiercely intelligent with a wit which was just as sharp, when he wasn't being shy. He knew the boy had also once been on the uni rugby team back in first year but the news of him being gay had forced him from continuing on the team. Yes, Sirius did indeed know who this young man was: he just hadn't paid him particular mind before now.

Now, well, technically it was just the two of them considering their friends had been lost to their passions. They regarded one another quietly. Never in a million years had Sirius thought he would end his graduation night in this man’s company. Before their pact, he had thought he'd end it in bed with some hottie; an impressionable fresher perhaps? But not this! Not with some gay lad he barely knew, some gay lad he was probably never going to see again…

Some gay lad which was kind of handsome in a strange way.

For a brief second an image of his previous expectation flitted through his head but this time the impressionable fresher was replaced. He had expected a night of last chances. Maybe his last chance was to do something he hadn't expected?

-

‘Just mind yourself,’ a Welsh accented young man warned over his shoulder as he entered the dim light of his bedroom, ‘there's a step here.’

On entering his room, Remus Lupin stepped aside in order to hold the door open for his unexpected visitor. The image of Sirius Black walking through the thresh hold was bizarre. He was at complete odds again the dark, scruffiness of the room. Even in his drunken, dishevelled state, the young man exuded a polished preppy-ness which Remus couldn't pull off in a million years. Remus watched as Sirius took in the posters on his wall; many of the, political on the side of the spectrum which was probably polar opposite from the young man’s own beliefs. If Sirius looked like anything, it was an ex-public school boy. An ex-public school boy who was incredibly handsome; an ex-public school boy who was more than Remus’ type.

‘Would you like a drink?’ Remus asked and inwardly winced at the nerves which were evident in his voice. Way to play it smooth Lupin, he admonished himself; way to sound like a fucking virgin, which of course, he wasn't. Not that he was the opposite either. It had been a while since he had had anyone in his bedroom, what with the work on his dissertation and his involvement in the debate team. It had definitely been a while and tonight had come as a complete surprise.

‘No thanks,’ his unexpected conquest refused with a smile as he ran a hand through his dark locks; a hand which had not thirty minutes ago grabbed Remus’ to usher them away from their drunken friends. Sirius had waited until they were down on Victoria Street before tugging him close and planting his lips on his; making his intention for removing Remus from their small group clear.

‘Right, well make yourself comfortable,’ the Welsh lad gestured to his bed, ‘I'll just be back in a second.’

He made a dash for the shared bathroom of his flat, which mercifully was across the landing from his room and considered his plan of action quickly. He needed to freshen up a bit. He was aware he was a bit smelly from spending the entire day with a suit and graduation gown on; then there was the fact that he had been dancing in the union all night. Add to that the numerous pints of beer which were slopped down him and a smoke machine that was intent on making it nigh impossible to see who you wee actually dancing with. He made quick work of rectifying this by whipping of his top and grabbing a flannel to wipe under his arms. The same flannel worked its magic down below quickly and was then tossed in the clothes hamper. Simultaneously he brushed his teeth and attempted to flatten his hair with his other hand. Normally he wouldn't go to so much trouble over a drunken shag but in truth he had never pulled someone as handsome as the young man who was waiting for him in his room. He couldn't believe his luck really. He had been aware of Sirius Black since first year, who hadn't? He just hadn't been aware that this could ever be a possibility. He had always been under the impression the gorgeous young man had only ever been into gorgeous young girls. Clearly not. The gorgeous young man was seemingly into him.

Not wanting to waste anymore time, he made one last ditch to get his honey coloured locks under control. He really wished he had had that pre-graduation haircut now. Now it looked overgrown and scruffy with its curling edges whilst Sirius’ was slicked back to perfection. Ah well. The other man clearly liked something he saw, there was no point in worrying about that now. He considered putting his top back on but decided against it. It was only going to be whisked off in a second anyway. Hastily he made his way back towards his room and quickly slipped back inside.

‘Oh.’ The word escaped his mouth on sight of the other man. He was still standing and had his gown in his hand. Everything about him made it clear what his intentions were; he was leaving.

‘Erm yeah, sorry,’ the visitor looked uncomfortable, ‘I just remembered James’ parents are coming round early and it's already getting on a bit.’ Sirius wasn't wrong. It was already light out what with it being in the midst of a Scottish summer.

‘Right,’ Remus nodded, trying to quell his disappointment and the feeling of ridiculousness since he was standing half naked in front of someone who was clearly not interested in him.

‘Yeah so I best be getting a taxi.’

‘You could try,’ Remus conceded but couldn't help but help the young man out, ‘But you'd be lucky to get one at this time. It's just past four, they're a bloody nightmare.’

The grey eyed young man nodded in understanding and looked like he was trying to work out his next plan of action. ‘I'll walk then. It won't take too long surely.’

‘You live on Castle Terrace? That's like fifty minutes from here.’ Being on the skinter side of student life Remus and his mates had opted to live in Leith. ‘And it's not exactly a safe walk alone. Give me a minute and I'll get ready. I'll walk you home.’

‘No!’ Sirius refused in alarm, ‘I can't have you doing that. Then you’ll need to walk home alone! I'll just….’

‘You can stay here,’ the topless young man suggested, ‘I'd say one of us could kip on the sofa but you can barely sit on the damn thing. We could share the bed.’

The other man looked at him doubtfully.

‘I'm not going to try anything on. Jesus, what do you take me for!’ Remus laughed, ‘you're not interested anymore, I get that.’

‘It’s not…’ The young man faltered, ‘it's not that… It's not because you're…’

‘Sirius it's fine,’ Remus reassured him, lying to the both of them. ‘You're not interested, you’re entitled to change your mind. I'm not a monster, I'm not going to make you do something against your will.’

‘I know that!’ Sirius countered and then glanced at the bed. ‘Right I suppose it makes sense to stay and get a taxi in the morning.’

‘I'll even phone for it myself,’ Remus offered with a smile.

With the decision made the pair got ready for bed. Remus considered taking off his trousers but settled on keeping them on to make his bed mate more comfortable with their close proximity. He tried not to look as Sirius divested himself of his white Oxford and busied himself with climbing under his duvet cover. When he looked back up he was surprised to see that the other young man had even gone as far as to take his trousers off too. What's more he was looking at Remus as if he was weighing something up.

‘Fuck it,’ the posh boy cursed and climbed in beside him, ‘I hate sleeping tops to tail with people. I'd rather have a cuddle than stare at someone's feet all night.’

‘My, my someone’s presumptuous if they think they're getting a cuddle out of me. I'm simply not that kind of boy.’

‘Oh please,’ the visitor to the bed said incredulously as he snuggled into Remus’ side, ‘you were going to let me do much more than cuddle. I know how loose you are now.’

‘Yeah,’ the rejected one forced out a laugh but the truth was he just didn't get it. All the way back to Leith they had been all over one another. Snogging every hundred yards or so; giggling into one another's mouths. What had changed? ‘just out of interest, for future reference, what did I do change your mind?’ He held his breath as he awaited the reply. He had almost given up hope for one when the other man craned his neck up to look at him.

‘Truthfully?’ Sirius asked and looked a little nervous with what he was about to say. Remus nodded and steeled himself for a blow to his ego. ‘I'm… I'm not gay.’

'Right,' the amber eyed boy frowned; needing more explanation than that.

‘I'm not gay and I've never really had the inclination or curiosity before tonight.’

‘So…’ He faltered, ‘what are you trying to tell me? Why did you come home with me?’

‘Because…’ And Remus could spot the cringing look as he turned his face away to make his confession, ‘you were… there.’

What?

‘Please don't hate me!’

‘I…’ But he was stunned, ‘I mean, how can I hate you? I don't even know you properly. Maybe if I had known you better I would have known not to have…’

‘I just thought that you looked lovely, standing there all…’

‘No, you just thought I looked convenient.’

‘Remus…’ The embarrassed man pleaded, ‘I know this makes me sound awful. Maybe a little. I mean yeah I thought I could make the most of the situation and try something new out. Then we got here and I realised you were like this person, you know, who might have feelings and it'd be really shitty of me to use you like that when I had given it all but thirty seconds of consideration. You probably deserve better than that.’

‘Probably?’ Remus chocked out indignantly.

‘Well like, we don't actually know each other. So maybe you're horrible and do deserve it but I don’t think that's right. I think you're a good bloke, if you're friends with Evans. I wish I knew you better to know if you did deserved to be fucked over.’

A silence fell over the pair as they contemplated that.

‘It's not as if you've never had a chance before. We have been in one another's company before. You've just never bothered with me before. Saying that there have probably been more convenient people closer at hand before.’

‘Don't be like that. I'm sorry.’ Sirius pleaded, ‘and we’re talking now. We can be friends now. You seem nice. James knows you too.’

'You want to be friends with me?' The not so long ago offended man asked suspiciously.

‘Why not? I'm a friendly bloke.’

‘Too friendly judging by all that kissing,’ Remus joked, seeing the funnier side to the strange turn of events and Sirius let out a muffled bark of laughter. ‘Okay, so friends? What are we going to do as friends? The definition of a friendship is two people who spend time together and I'll wager you're not going to be around these parts much longer?’

Remus’ new friend hummed in consideration at this. ‘We could do something tomorrow?’

‘I thought james’ parents were arriving early or was that a lie too?’

The dark head swivelled up once again to face him, this time to flash him a mischievous smile. ‘Well nobody can claim they don't lie to their friends occasionally!’

‘You're unbelievable!’ Remus cried out indignantly.

‘That's the beautiful thing about friendship Remus,’ Sirius grinned, ‘friends forgive each other!’

‘They also don't break promises!’ The owner of the bed countered, ‘so I'm holding you to it. Tomorrow we’re doing something. Think of it as a way to make up for your horrible track record in this friendship thus far!’

‘Okay, I promise,’ Sirius said in what sounded like an earnest way before cuddling again into the other man’s side. ‘I'm going to be a fantastic friend.’

Chapter Text

July 15th 1989

‘Please tell me it’s the bottom floor?’

It was a glorious sunny Saturday afternoon which found two young men in their early twenties staring up at the red bricked building in Shoreditch. One of the men, Sirius, stood at the top of the ramp of a removal van shielding his eyes from the sun as he gazed at his friend’s new flat.

‘I could tell you that,’ Remus turned from his position lower down on the street, ‘But that would be lying.’

The dark haired man deflated a little at the realisation of the daunting task they had at hand. He wasn’t much of a menial labour kind of a guy; he had grown up with privilege that could afford to pay someone else for the effort. Yet this had been the only day this summer he had available to visit and, annoyingly, this was the condition of his friend’s willingness to meet. Help or don’t come at all. Typical Remus, but he had missed the grumpy charm of the amber-eyed man, so had gladly accepted the term. Now, looking up at the tall and shoddy building in front of him; he wasn’t so certain it was a good a deal.

‘Come on,’ Remus called him from his thoughts in a tone that suggested he knew exactly what he was thinking. ‘You can use today as an anecdote of the time you were a blue collared worker for a spell. Really impress the girls in those Spanish bodegas you’ll no doubt try to charm.’

‘I don’t need to regale them with stories.’ Sirius countered; his eyes squinting into the bright sunlight. ‘My gorgeous face will charm them.’

‘Fool them more like.’ His friend replied dryly, slightly distracted as he peeled off his cardigan. Sirius smiled at the sight of him. Only Remus Lupin would wear a cardigan in twenty four degree heat. He revealed a white Smiths t-shirt and Sirius was just about to roll his eyes, because of course he liked the Smiths, when he was momentarily caught of guard by the other man’s toned arms. It was only for a second, but he found himself distracted by the muscle tone as his friend rolled his sleeves up in an attempt to turn his t-shirt into some kind of vest due to the heat. Remus had strength in his arms and it made something in Sirius’ mind blip for a moment.

‘What?’ Caught. He hadn’t been as furtive as he had hoped. ‘Can I help you?’

‘Nothing,’ Sirius managed to shrug off nonchalantly as he picked up a box and put it into the strong arms he’d just been admiring. ‘Just that it looks like you’ve been working out. That’s all.’

Remus looked both confused and suspicious; like he couldn’t work out the angle of the joke.

‘Well I haven’t.’ He finally replied when no punchline was forthcoming and then his expression turned accusatory. ‘You're not getting out of helping me lift these now.’

‘I wasn’t trying to.’ Sirius rebuffed, but he made sure to smile to seem as if that were the case and not...

Well, what was the case? He wasn’t entirely sure.

‘Come on posh lad. There’s work to be done.’

-

‘You sure you’re alright Moony?’ Sirius asked, grinning at the appearance of the other young man who had a slight sheen of sweat on his brow. As usual, Remus frowned at the nickname. He wasn't exactly impressed with the name bestowed upon him when he had drunkenly mooned the room of party guests at the Potters annual New Years party. Sirius and James had been so surprised that the young graduate had carried out their inane dare that they had gone on about it for weeks. Thus, the nickname was born.

‘I’m fine, it’s just so bloody hot. I wish this heatwave would end. I’d kill for a bit of rain.’ He replied tersely as the sun from his new bedroom window brought the copper tones of his hair to light. He looked like a very grumpy Botticelli painting come to life.

Sirius shook the thought and pretended he was scandalized instead. ‘You don’t want that Moony! Not today of all days!’ He was shot a confused look. ‘Its Saint Swithin's day!’

The stern expression changed to one of confussion.

‘Yeah!’ the apparently superstitious young man clarified. ‘He was buried near my old school. “If on St Swithin it doth rain... something dum-di-dum again” Something like that.’

‘Wow.’ Came the expected sarcastic response. ‘That was utterly beautiful. That education of yours has certainly not gone to waste.’

‘Well my education can tell you that you’re going to have an awfully difficult time moving your bed all on your own if you keep that cheek up, Moony me lad.’

‘Prat.’

It took almost fifty minutes to get the Welsh man’s meagre belongings to his room in the top floor flat. After having his battered pieces of second hand furniture placed in a somewhat decent arrangement, Sirius peered out on to the street below and watched as the local residents went about their daily business.

London. It had been his home for the first sixteen years of his life. Well, if you didn’t include the fact that he spent many large chunks of those years elsewhere at boarding school. The time he had spent in London had been miserable for the most part. Yes he and his friends had plenty of fun experiences, mostly involving alcohol and partying, but it had never felt like a place to belong. It was kind of strange settling a close friend into a city he couldn’t really recommend.

‘Here,’ a soft voice called behind him and he turned to see an outstretched cup of tea being offered to him. ‘Anything interesting going on out there?’

‘Not really,’ Sirius replied as he negotiated the hot mug, ‘but I like it.’

‘You like Shoreditch?’ the auburn haired man asked sceptically.

‘Yeah. It’s…’ he turned back to the window to scan the street for inspiration and found that it gave him nothing. ‘… perfectly ordinary.’

‘Right.’ Remus’ tone remained the same. He’d been expecting his friend to take the piss in some way but this wasn’t exactly the angle he’d been expecting. Sirius was the ultimate definition of ‘posh lad’ who, by all accounts, Remus really had no business being friends with. The pair couldn’t be less similar if they tried. Remus was a queer, middle class, politically charged man of humble tastes while Sirius was a womanising playboy who had barely had to work post university. His tastes took him to the finer restaurants and shops and although he wasn’t exactly interested in politics, he was definitely somebody who thrived in Thatcher’s Britain. Remus had often wondered what it was that kept them friends. By all rights their social interaction should have stopped after that first night back at graduation but something had kept them coming back together.

The Welsh young man had considered the fact that he found the other man attractive to have had something to do with it but that didn’t really explain the role Sirius played in keeping their friendship going. He was the one who continued to call Remus: organise meet ups; invite him down to the Cotswalds to visit his adopted family. He’d encouraged Remus and James to become as close as they were now so it wasn’t as if that could explain their connection. Remus had held out hope that in those first couple of months that Sirius had fancied him too but the growing parade of women who entered and left Sirius’ life put that theory to rest. After all, if Sirius really did reciprocate those types of feelings, Remus had made it clear that he was more than up for it. All the dark haired young man really had to do was act.

He hadn’t, so being the realist that he was, Remus had moved on and now a year after their first proper meeting (because those times when they hadn’t spoken didn’t count) they had become very good friends. Such good friends, in fact, that Sirius was willing to move heavy furniture for him.

‘Are you all ready for tomorrow?’ He asked with a heavy feeling beginning to weigh in his chest. He hoped it didn’t show on his face, so he quickly darted his attention away from his friend who was leaning against the frame of his almost dilapidated bed.

‘Almost. Effie packed my summer clothes but insisted that I take part of my winter wardrobe too. I tried to explain...’

‘That you’re a twenty two year old man who's capable of packing his own luggage?’ Remus interrupted with a disapproving glance towards the spoiled young man.

Sirius rolled his eyes at the dig. ‘No. That I can just buy what I need when I need it.’

The new occupant of the flat mirrored the eye roll. ‘Typical rich boy.’

‘Typical lefty!’ Sirius shot back. ‘I’ll be contributing to the Spanish economy! I thought you socialists would appreciate that!’

‘Begrudging frivolous spending does not make me a socialist!’ came the indignant reply.

‘You called Mr Potter's dinner guest a fascist pig!’

‘I was drunk and he was a complete bigot! Also socialists don’t appreciate any kind of contribution to capitalistic corporations so....’

‘Thank you for the politics lesson, Professor Lupin.’ Sirius droned in and it put a full stop on the conversation. Remus never knew which way the scales were going to tip in these situations. Sometimes their jokes about their differences was what propelled them forward; a banter that made them well aware how unlikely a duo they were. Sometimes it served as a sobering reminder that they would probably never understand one another; not fully.

His instinct to be the one to offer the olive branch kicked in and he took a step closer to his friend and gently reminded him: ‘You’re going to have the best time in Barcelona. Plenty of pretty Spanish girls will want to learn English from you.’

‘I’m not going to shag my students.’ Sirius huffed a laugh as he leaned against the bedroom wall with his steaming mug in hand.

‘Didn’t you sleep with at least four in Paris? Your letters certainly read like a rolodex of French female models.’

‘Only Celine was a model.’ The dark haired lothario pointed out.

Remus raised an eyebrow as he drank from his mug. Seizing the opportunity while his mouth was preoccupied, Sirius steered the conversation in another direction.

‘Speaking of action: did you get any on the road?’

Remus had spent the first half of the year as part of a touring theatre group. It had been sold to him as a way to educate young minds on important political concepts such as disenfranchisement and the importance of union movements. He had been promised that their troop would perform plays written by him and that he would gain experience of seeing his work being performed by real actors. The reality was that they re-enacted the same stale suffragette play to more than one hundred bored primary schools all over the country. Not a single word of it had been written by Remus and he played the role of incompetent actor for his duration of his time with the group.

Sirius’ question made him swallow hard on his tea and coughed in discomfort. ‘No,’ he replied when he recovered. A set of grey eyes narrowed on him. Disbelief.

‘Don’t be shy now,’ his friend attempted to coax him.

‘Nothing happened.’ He tried to hide his squirm by finding a place for his mug to rest.

‘You really are a terrible actor!’

‘Nothing happened...’ but he sensed his pretence could no longer hold up and he hesitated.

‘Oh my god! Who? What happened?’

‘I’m not telling you about the sordid details of my sex life!’

‘Why not?’ His friend shot back indignantly. ‘I tell you mine!’

‘Sirius, nobody asks. You freely give that information whether we want to hear it or not.’

‘Rude!’ his eyebrows furrowed deeply for a moment before smoothing back out. ‘Come on! You never tell me anything! I’d probably not know you were gay if it weren’t for the fact you snogged the life out me last year!’

It’s brought up so flippantly but still Remus inwardly flinched. They had never discussed it: how they actually came to become friends. Not since they walked away from one another in Edinburgh. He had wondered if it was from embarrassment on Sirius’ part for his ill judged foray into same sex relations. He had been secretly hoping it was for another reason...

But no. The way Sirius tossed it out now so carelessly showed it was nothing. Just another funny story in the life of Sirius Black.

Well he too could act as if it was nothing. As if he had gotten on with own life without giving it a second thought.

‘If you must know, it was with a bloke called Gary.’

He watched for a reaction and could see Sirius frowning. His eyes darted back and forth as if he needed to process the information and a little bit of hope flared in Remus’ chest.

‘Wasn’t he your stage manager or your director or something? The prat that wouldn’t let you write?’

Remus cursed the details of his letters.

‘Yeah,’ he conceded. ‘He was both. All actually.’

‘And you shagged him?’

‘Well, we didn’t shag.’

‘But you hooked up...?’

‘I mean, yeah. There’s more to sex than actually fucking.’

Sirius looked stunned at his use of profanity. Stunned, but also delighted. It annoyed Remus greatly.

‘What? I do fuck people, you know?’

‘And apparently more than just fucking?’ He was far too amused for Remus’ liking and he hated him for it. He hated being treated like some kind of sexless spectacle when it couldn’t be further from the truth. Especially when it came from a person who could have known that truth for themselves. He decided to lean into the path they were going down and told him exactly what happened.

‘We flirted, we kissed and one night, we went into the back of the troop van. We didn’t have sex, no, but we did other things.’

Sirius gave him an expectant look: finish the story properly.

‘We... he... he gave me a hand job while I put my fingers inside of him.’ There. He’d done it. They’d done it. They’d ventured into a friendship where they shared sexual escapades. Sirius had done this for the past year but now so had Remus. They were firmly in that box; the box where they had sex with other people and made a point of telling one another. A point where they made it clear that the sex that they had was not with each other.

Sirius has been quiet a long moment. He had that pensive look on his face again. Remus worried he’d gone too far. Straight boys didn’t want to know the details of gay sex. Straight boys may pretend they do, but they rarely did. The silence went on so long that Remus considered apologising. Though for what he’d apologise for seemed utterly ridiculous and a complete double standard considering he was asked and practically goaded into telling. Seconds tick past and the hypocrisy of the moment started to anger him. He felt the heavy mix of shame and annoyance start to roil in his stomach. He was about to vocalise this when Sirius finally spoke: ‘That’s what you do?’

So much about the sentence confused Remus. The curious tone, the serious look on Sirius’s face: his heavy lidded eyes.

‘I mean, yeah, lots of guys like... having fingers, you know,’ he swallowed thickly, ‘penetrate them.’

He was aware his breathing had become shallow and he had just enough wit about him to notice that Sirius’ had also.

‘And that’s what you do: to them?’ He asked somewhat coyly.

He understood the question fully then and if he hadn't been so intoxicated by this strange conversation and the way that Sirius’ lips had parted as he waited for an answer, Remus might have replied in his usual sarcastic manner. He would have pointed out that he had had the chance to find out for himself over a year ago. But he didn’t. He was just a little too far gone for that.

‘Yeah,’ is all he was capable of and it was met with a soft ‘oh’ in reply from his friend. They looked at one another for a long moment; almost in a serene state. What mystery this conversation had opened up for Sirius remained one for Remus. Something had definitely shifted between them, he just wasn’t completely sure if it was something that was definitely there or something he was willing into existence.

The answer of its validity came from an unexpected source and sadly not from either one of them. The pair are jolted out of their strange trance by the jarring scraping noise of metal on wood and a moment later a familiar voice entered the flat.

‘Hey roomie!’ came the voice of Lily before she herself appeared at the bedroom door. Her presence acted as a full stop to their strange conversation and Remus felt as if he needed to mentally shake himself in order to properly concentrate on the fact that she was actually standing in front of them.

‘Helping him settle in then?’ Lily addressed Sirius but her eyes darted between the pair. She hadn’t missed their odd atmosphere and if Remus knew her like he thought he did, she would quickly decipher what it meant before any of them did.

‘Of course!’ the dark haired man beamed at her, recovering remarkably well. ‘Can’t miss the opportunity to scope this place out for Jamie. He’d kill me if I didn’t.’

The comment had the desired affect and the redhead pulled a face and retreated out of the room. She left a silence in her wake.

‘Where were we?’ Remus asked and had a moment of regret. They couldn’t go back to what had been interrupted; whatever it was.

‘Didn’t you say James had dumped some of your stuff in the living room when he helped? I could help bring that through.’

Relief flooded Remus: back to normal. They could do normal.

Thirty minutes later saw Sirius slide his sunglasses through his dark hair and settle them onto his head. Remus watched as he checked his back pocket for his keys, wallet and perpetual pack of cigarettes. They were both stood at the flat’s open door: Remus on one side of the threshold and Sirius on the other.

‘Thanks for helping,’ he smiled warmly; feeling a little sentimental that he wouldn’t be seeing his friend in some time.

‘It was absolutely no bother, Moony-mine.’ Sirius’ charm was dialled up to one hundred and Remus raised his brow to question the sincerity. ‘Okay, it was a bit of a ball ache getting that bed up the stairs but it was a ball ache I'd gladly suffer for you.’

‘Stop, you’ll have me swooning! Such poetry!’ Remus mocked as he leaned against the frame of the door.

‘What can I say? You’re not the only one with a way with words. One day people will marvel at my prose. It will be quoted by scholars!’

‘I dunno if you can call the readers of FHM scholars.’ They both laughed and Sirius shot him a dazzling grin.

‘Seriously though. I’m glad you’re here. You’re going to love London.’

‘Just like you do?’ Remus was well aware of his friend’s complicated history with the city due to his family circumstances. Sirius grimaced a little before the smile bloomed back on his face.

‘Yeah, well, maybe that will change since I have a good reason to come back now.’

And it was back: the sprouting of hope in Remus’ chest. He let it linger for a moment before mentally scraping it away.

‘Well remember to write to me in-between all the Rioja and the shagging.’ He teased as his friend began to walk towards the stairwell directly in front of the front door.

‘Of course!’ he called over his shoulder and turned to shoot a mischievous smile in his direction. ‘And make sure you do the same!’