Work Text:
Euphemia and Fleamont comes back from their after-lunch walk and finds the three teenagers still on the patio, lounging and eating biscuits.
"Bhagavaan ke lie, James! Biscuits for lunch? Mujhe shakti de!"
"Mama, shaant ho jao, it's special circumstances, don't you think?" James whines, exasperatedly, like only a teenager can be exasperated by their parents, slouching in his chair.
"Hello Remus, welcome! Sut wyt ti?" Fleamont raises a hand in manner of greeting. The youngster lights up at the phrase, and gets up to shake his host's hand;
"Hello Mr Potter, Mrs Potter. Rwy'n iawn, diolch, a chi?"
"I should just start speaking French with all you lot..!" Sirius pouts, crossing their arms over their chest and slumping in the wicker chair.
Remus ruffles their hair, just because he knows it will annoy Sirius even more, which causes strands of hair to come loose from the bun and fall in their face. Sirius shakes their head, like a dog shaking water from its coat, and dramatically blows the loose waves out of their face.
With that, the elder Potters join the teens on the patio. Fleamont sends James to make a pot of tea, and the group spends the rest of the afternoon there, talking about the past school year, and the upcoming one, which would be their last at Hogwarts; about quidditch and cricket and rugby, until Euphemia said she had to start preparations for dinner.
She put each of them to work peeling vegetables, chopping, stirring, scrubbing, setting the table, picking raspberries from the garden, simmering and finally serving.
They eat on the patio.
As the mosquitoes start to swarm they light spiced citronella candles. When the sun sets behind the trees they bring out beaded cushions and embroidered blankets. And finally, as darkness falls, they make a fire in the chimenea.
The Potters have made up another spare room for Remus, but they all know he will be sharing with Sirius
"Without me though, yeah? I don't want anything going down in my bed, thank you very much." James clarifies when the elder Potters have retired for the night.
"I don't reckon you'll have to worry about anything or anyone going down in your bed for a while, mate." Remus deadpans, sending Sirius giggling into their blanket.
With a battle-cry of feigned anger, James grabs the cushion from under him as he launches himself at Remus, knocking Sirius over in the process, and pretends attempting to smother the lanky Welshman as they wrestle on the lawn.
***
"Ooh, I love the nighty!"
Remus looks up from behind his book, smiling wide where he lies tucked into the spare bed, glasses halfway down his nose.
Sirius closes the bedroom door behind them and, suddenly shy wraps their arms around their middle and smiles down at their own bare feet.
"Are you blushing?" Remus says, putting his book away and sitting up on the bedside.
Sirius marches over, blushing beet red, and shoves his shoulder, eyes still on their feet.
"Shut up, I'm not..!"
Remus falters from the shove, but quickly regains his balance, catching Sirius around their waist and pulling them on top of him as he allows himself to fall backwards across the bed.
Sirius buries their face in the crook of his neck.
"You staying 'til the moon?"
Remus nods.
"Can we come with you? We can run the Welsh countryside with you."
"You know you can't. My parents don't know about you being animagi. I need to stay in the basement." He wraps his arms tighter around Sirius' body, kissing the top of their head. They nuzzle closer in return.
"I don't like that you have to transform alone…"
"Don't think about that now, I don't. We're here now, together.
I don't have to worry about you having to go back to Grimmauld Place, that's enough for me. Let's just be here now."
With that, he rolls over on his side, cupping Sirius' chin in his hand, he tilts their face up to meet his gaze. For a beat they stay like that, searching each other's eyes. Then Remus let's his hand slide up into Sirius' hair, kissing them, as he repositions himself to lean over them on his elbow.
They kiss slowly, sweetly, at first; then with more fervour, open mouthed and deep. Rolling on top of them completely, Remus slips his hand underneath Sirius' nightdress, caressing the outline of their body from their thigh to their collarbone, shoulder, and neck, making them shiver and squirm under his touch.
Sirius wraps their legs around Remus' hips, pulling him close and shifting his weight on top of them, grinding their own hips against his.
"Sirius…" Remus whispers, his breath hot and heavy on Sirius' face, "You wanna… keep going?"
Swallowing hard, Sirius smiles, nodding enthusiastically,
"Yes, please… keep going, please..!"
***
James have been watching them from the corner of his eye for several minutes. Every time the knife slips off the tough skin and slams into the chopping board he flinches and groans.
Remus watch the scene from across the table, trying not to laugh at the grimace contorting James' face, while cutting the green tufts off strawberries.
The knife slips again and this time James have had enough.
"Khaatir Sirius, give me that shaapit mango, you're ruining it!"
He grabs the hand holding the knife, stopping Sirius from further butchering the stone fruit, and reaches over to rescue it from its assailant.
Now Remus is openly chuckling at the Indian boy, who proceeds to angrily but expertly peel the mango.
"How come the only time you speak Hindi is when you swear?" mutters Sirius, crossing their arms and pouting with their whole body.
"I was just about to ask the same thing, darling" Euphemia chimes in as she walks into the kitchen with a basket of potatoes under one arm, and gives her son a reprimanding smack on the top of his head. "There was an owl for you, by the way" she says, handing James a rolled up piece of parchment.
"It's from Pete!" he exclaims. "He's being released from dog-duty and asks if he can come see us!"
The teenagers erupt in excited chatter, as James turn to his mother for confirmation,
"Can he, mom? Can Peter come?"
Euphemia has put down the basket and is selecting potatoes for peeling, taking them from the basket and putting them in the sink one by one.
"I suppose he can," she muses, "after all we have a spare room already made up, which isn't being used."
She glances up at the two guests as she says this, sending both Remus and Sirius' cheeks blazing, and forcing her son to physically contain a fit of giggles, both hands over his mouth.
***
The afternoon when the three friends set off to meet their fourth at Woking station the sky is heavy with dark clouds.
By the time they reach the village it has started to spit. It takes them longer to walk into town than they expected, their feet in heavy Wellington boots, the hoods of their raincoats obscuring their peripheral view.
Peter is already waiting for them outside the station building, umbrella in hand, when they get there.
"Merlin's hat, Wormtail, did you bring the weather with you?" Sirius shouts, when they get close enough for Peter to hear them over the rain, which is now pouring down around them.
Peter jerks out of his ponderings then and jogs to meet them, big smile on his round face.
He's tanned; his blonde hair fairer than usual, a smattering of freckles on his cheeks and arms, dressed in a short sleeved flannel shirt and khaki shorts.
Summer does wonders for him.
"Oh hey Siri, hey guys, I didn't hear you coming! In a world of my own, I was."
He hugs them one by one under his umbrella. James and Remus have to duck down as to not have their eyes taken out by the bat-like wings; Sirius is not much taller than Peter, so can easily manoeuvre under the nylon cover. They immediately take advantage of this, pulling their hood off and hooking arms with the chubby Marauder.
"Have you got muggle money on you? I don't fancy walking all the way back without at least one piece of cake in me."
And with that, they find themselves in a little café on the high street. Both Peter and Remus have muggle money, so they pay for tea and cakes for all of them. Then ensues an economics lesson where Remus tries to work out the exchange rate of muggle-to-wizard currency, and split the tab in accordance with what each of them ordered.
The other two boys groan half-heartedly at the exercise. Sirius is sure that Peter doesn't mind treating them, and James doesn't actually mind paying, and the groaning is more about having to do the arithmetic's than it is about the money. They all know, after all, that as much as Remus would give his last sickles to them, should they need it, he can't really afford to.
Sirius assumes that they, too, can't really afford to, now. Having been burned off of the family tapestry is as good as a guarantee that they're out of any last will and testament of Walburga and Orion Black. They assume, as well, that Remus has already realised this, and that the splitting of the bill may be as much about saving Sirius' money as it is his own.
He's counting under his breath as he slides coins across the wax cloth table top, one by one, between himself and Peter. Sirius smiles to themself.
Beautiful, thoughtful, brilliant Remus Lupin. They are lucky to have him. Grateful for him. They should tell him that.
***
The persistent rain held up, only to give way to a lightning storm, which kept circling them for the rest of the evening. The four Marauders entertain themselves as best they can, playing records in James' room, playing chess and browsing Peter's copy of Melody Maker.
"There's just no way David Bowie isn't a wizard." Sirius exclaims, practically hugging the magazine to their chest.
"He's not", Peter interjects without taking his eyes off the chess board, "he would have gone to Hogwarts for sure if he was, and he hasn't, so he's not."
"He might be muggleborn!" Sirius argues, affronted on behalf of their hero.
"You don't have to be a wizard to be magical" Remus reaches over and pulls Sirius into his lap. "You don't have to be a lot of things, just because others think you should".
It's not a perfect analogy, but the sweet smile on their boyfriend's face drives it home all the same. The way his golden eyes light up when he looks at them always ignites an ember in the pit of Sirius' stomach, and they can't help but return his smile now.
"Truer words were never spoken, mate" James declares, then turns around to the couple sitting on his bedroom floor, grinning widely;
"The two of you are gonna give me diabetes, by the way"
Sirius sticks their tongue out at him, curling up in Remus' embrace.
On the other side of the chess board, it's Peter's turn to grin triumphantly, and clear his throat;
"As sweet as you lot are, Bowie is still a muggle, and also, check mate."
He pauses for effect, and to let James gape in silent wonder, before sweeping the pieces up into their velvet pouch.
"C'mon then Pads, I'll paint your nails for you."
***
Black nail polish was punk rock, Marlene had been right about that. The sun dances across it as Sirius tilts their hand this way and that, like it dances across the dark water in the lake on the edge of the Potter estate. They are sitting on the wooden dock Fleamont has built, feet dangling into the cold, fresh water.
The hot summer days have returned with renewed vigour after the thunderstorm, and the Marauders have taken to spending most of their days down by the lake, or walking into the village to buy ice cream.
Sirius is wearing their new sarong as default summer bottoms, pairing it with whatever shirt the other teens loan them, but right now they're all down to their underwear, in lieu of bathing suits, diving off the dock and doing hand-stands underwater. Except for Remus, who keeps his t-shirt on even while swimming.
He's sitting in the shade under an oak tree by the water, rolling cigarettes, wet fabric clinging to his svelte body. From the knees down his legs are tanned. His arms and cheeks are sunkissed with freckles. But through his summer skin, the jagged lines of a network of scars stand out. Some literally stand out, like ridges, some are like sunken gauges; they stand out in colour ranging from pale to dark pink.
Sirius feels a pang of hurt in their chest at the realisation that Remus doesn't feel comfortable, even around the three of them, taking off his shirt. Even out here where no one else can see but the Marauders, he still hides himself.
He looks up now, out towards James and Peter who have climbed the big rock on the opposite bank, licks the rizzla and smooths it down.
"Come on then you pixies, fags are done!"
James dives into the dark water, and Peter follows after, trying to cannonball his friend.
Remus looks over at Sirius, holding up the handful of cigarettes.
"You coming, hon?"
That dazzling smile again. How does he not see how beautiful he is?
Sirius slips off the dock and under the water, pushing their long hair out of their face as they resurface, water cascading down their tanned torso. They just have time to catch the shifting colour on Remus' cheeks, and feel the flutter in their stomach of having that effect on their boyfriend, when James appears from behind.
"Mermaid alert!" he roars as he grabs Sirius around the waist, hoisting them up and hauling them out of the water, kicking and squealing with laughter, and crash in a wet pile of limbs in the grass next to Remus.
"Moony I caught a mermaid can I keep it" he shouts from underneath the laughing, squirming Sirius.
The werewolf lights his roll-up with the tip of his wand, and hold out the rest of the cigarettes to the slippery Marauders.
"Unhand the mermaid, Prongs. Pete, you need a light?"
They sit in the grass, smoking their fags and playing with blades of grass, throwing them into the lake.
"You all set for the moon?" Peter asks, tentatively.
Remus nods, and gives a little hum, by way of answer.
"I still think we should come with you" Sirius mumbles, not looking up from their hands, which are busy burning a blade of grass with their cigarette.
With a sigh Remus flops onto his back.
"And told you, you can't, ok? Just leave it."
He looks tired. Now that his dazzling smile has vaned, his face looks sunken, his eyes surrounded by dark rings.
***
"Your parents wouldn't even know we were there. We could hide in the woods, as animals.." Remus interrupt them mid sentence;
"Sirius don't! I've told you, I'll be in the basement, I'll be locked in there, I couldn't come out to play if I wanted to!"
They're in the guest bedroom, getting ready for bed, and Remus is packing his bag, exasperated and snappy. But Sirius doesn't back down,
"Wormtail could sneak in and open the door for you. We'd be back by morning, just like the Shack…"
"Will you just leave it, Sirius? The answer is no!"
"But why!?"
Sirius grabs Remus' shoulder and spins him around, making him face them. He's taller, and his eyes are dark, but Sirius squares their shoulders and locks his gaze with theirs.
They stare each other down for a beat, before Remus let's his shoulders slump, and he sits down on the bed next to his bag with a sigh.
"Because, it's not like at school. There are muggles around, farm animals, roads... it's too dangerous. There are distractions everywhere, and, frankly, I don't think you could handle me in that environment."
He keeps his eyes downcast, picking at the skin of his fingertips.
"It'll be a fucking mess, afterwards... It's not like at school" his face contorts into a grimace, "I don't want you to have to see it."
The sound of Sirius drawing a shuddering breath makes him look up. Tears are rolling down their cheeks, and their shoulders gently shakes.
"Ah shit.."
Remus stands up then, and wraps his arms around the smaller teen, trying to envelope them with his own thin frame. He holds Sirius' head close to his chest, and rubs their back, gently rocking them both back and forth where they stand.
Having simply stood, arms by their sides, allowing themself to be held, until now, Sirius throws their arms around their boyfriend and sobs into his chest.
"Ssssh… I'm sorry. I'm sorry I snapped, I know you want to help…"
"I don't like that you have to transform one your own" Sirius sniffles, "I want to be there with you, with Prongs and Wormey, when you're alone you get hurt…"
The words spill out of their mouth, like the tears from their eyes, their fists balling up in Remus' nightshirt.
"When you get hurt you get more scars, and then…"
As those last words leave their mouth they feel Remus go rigid in their arms, and, for a beat, the room falls silent, as if the room itself is holding its breath.
Sirius tears themself away from Remus' chest and holds him at arm-length, still by their fists in the back of his shirt, forcing him to look them in the eyes.
"No, Remus, listen; I know you hate your scars and that you hide them, but I wish you didn't. You're beautiful, Remus, so beautiful, and I hate that you can't see that. You're beautiful and I love you. I love you. I love you, I…"
Remus lunges forward then, crashing their lips together, too hard, too fast, their teeth clattering.
It feels like there should be blood. That taste of iron. But Remus holds them so close, hands on their back, roaming, grabbing at their nightdress, kissing them thoroughly, deeply.
As he moves to kiss that soft spot between their ear and cheek, scrape his teeth across their earlobe and down their neck, Sirius' knees buckle under them and Remus takes their weight, leaning against the bed, with one strong hand under their thigh just below their buttock.
"Remus what..?" Sirius pants between breaths.
"I love you too, Sirius" Remus breathes hot against their neck, "I'm sorry…"
Burying his face in his beloved's neck, he heaves them off the floor, with a second grip on their hip, and sits them across his lap on the bed.
Between kisses that trail down their collarbone, he continues;
"If you can do it, then I can, too. If you can be who you are, unashamedly, unapologetically, then I can, too.
If you can love me, not despite my scars but just like I am, and let me love you too…"
He loses his train of thought there, somewhere, and is about to start hiking Sirius' nightdress up from where it's bunched up around their hips, when he pauses.
Instead he steadies his large, thin hands on their hips and looks up at them, meeting their gaze.
"Is this… should we stop? I don't wanna, just, you know, keep going and not, I dunno, address things, and not let you speak…"
"Remus?" Sirius interrupts him, an amused smirk playing on their face, grabbing the hems of their nightdress themself.
"If I wear a skirt every day the first week of school, will you swim in the lake with your shirt off? Say 'yes' and I'll take this nightie off right now."
"What!?" Remus snorts a laugh, "are you serious?"
Sirius looks him dead in the eye then, with a straight face, and says;
"You call yourself my boyfriend? You really ought to at least learn my damn name."