Archive of Our Own ^beta

Remus had been saving money for a year. A fucking, long, keeping-every-change-coin-in-a-jar-and-never-going-out-if-he-could-avoid-it, year. He’d been keeping every cent, working extra hours in the library, and dreaming of the smile on his mother’s face when he took her in the vacation of her dreams. Ever since his dad died, when he was 15, she had done nothing but work and live for her son. Remus loved her in ways he couldn’t describe, so being a recently graduated 23-year-old, he thought he owed it to her to bring her to France. She had single-handedly seen him through his degree, and now he would single-headedly make her dream come true, too.

What was her dream? A very expensive and excruciatingly long summer vacation in France, including not only visiting the important sight-seeing spots of Paris but a week-long stay in Bourgogne, with a complete tour of one of its oldest vineyards, which was said to produce some of the best Pinot Noir. At least, that was according to the information his mother read in a very thick and fancy-looking magazine, one that Remus was pretty sure she read as often as he did his favourite books (which was a lot).

She had been carrying that everywhere for the past two years, ever since she bought a bottle of wine that cost half the price if she purchased the magazine along with it (the magazine itself was nearly half the price of a bottle of wine, but it felt as enough of a sale to Hope Lupin, anyway). Ever since then, she talked about the places she read about and how it would be her life’s dream to be able to visit them. And while she did, in fact, love wine (Remus had to acquire his taste from somewhere), he was certain her so-called “dream” had more to do with the novelty and romance of a trip to France’s wine country, rather than the alcohol itself.

So, according to Remus’ extremely well spreadsheeted itinerary, they would be spending a week at a small cabin in the premises of the Vignoble des Astres. The winery itself was old – old-family-and-old-money type of old – but it had clearly been through some improvements in the last years. His mother’s magazine advertised a new chapter in the story of the place, turned from an old traditional and very closed off and elitist family business into a vacation paradise for wine lovers which, in Remus’ opinion, was no less elitist. Guests would stay in the cabins and spend the week exploring the winery under the close instruction of guides. It was meant to be educational and entertaining, a complete immersion in the art of making wine, from the grape vines to the label on the final bottle. Remus had heard of plenty of places such as this, not just in France but all over the world, but this was the only one (to his knowledge) to promise such a complete and magical (and long) experience. So, obviously, this one was Hope’s dream. And, just as obviously, Remus would move hell and earth to make it come true.

Which brings them to arriving at cabin number 254, in a Saturday afternoon. It was one in between far too many for Remus to count, all of them perfect replicas of each other standing at a comfortable enough distance from their neighbours. They had enough space in between each cabin to allow each place its own privacy. A little white fence determined where one cabin’s perimeter ended and the next one’s started. It looked straight out of a Disney movie.

Walking inside, the place did not disappoint. A small kitchen to one corner allowed them to cook for themselves if they opted for not eating in expensive restaurants all week long, and it merged into a perfectly comfortable living room, with a flat screen on top of the fireplace facing a very comfortable-looking dark green sofa. Remus and Hope had opted for a dual-single cabin, which meant the bedroom held two single beds (though they were nearly the size of Remus’ twin-sized bed at home) with their respective wooden bedframes and nightstands. The bathroom wasn’t big, but it did account to a beautiful black bathtub and a double sink and cabinets. The place was lovely, and, although all the furniture had been clearly custom-made for each room, and with the best available materials, it wasn’t the sort of fancy that made a person feel uncomfortable. It was cosy and welcoming, and Remus could immediately feel at home there. 

They hadn’t been there for even five minutes, and Hope was already bustling around the little kitchen, storing bread and some other condiments they’d bought in a supermarket on their way there to make sure they could make sandwiches whenever they didn’t feel like eating out. She was humming a tune Remus couldn’t quite place, and he smiled at that.

“Mum?” He called.

“Yes, dear?” she asked, not looking away from the cabinet she was organizing.

“Are you happy?”

She looked up at him in that very same second, and her smile was so wide Remus felt his cheeks hurt in solidarity to hers.

“So happy, my dear. We are going to have such an amazing week here,” she said, walking over to him. She stopped right before him and extended a hand, touching his cheek. Remus responded instinctively leaning down towards her touch, then moved to envelope her in a hug.

“We are,” he finally replied, breaking apart from her. He then pulled his laptop out of his backpack and placed it on the coffee table, opening the lid. The screen lit up, and Remus unlocked it to reveal his pride and joy; his excel spreadsheet accounting to all the events they had planned for that week.

“I still cannot believe you brought that thing with you, Remus!” Hope shook her head, though she was smiling lightly. “We could have printed it or put it on your phone.”

“Editing a spreadsheet on my phone?” he looked up at her, feigning a dramatic gasp. “Blasphemy! No, no, mother, this beauty must be dealt with the respect of a wide desktop screen, allowing me to check all the categories and have a clear vision of what we’ll be up to. I have everything here; the visiting schedule, the extras we might partake in, the restaurants we might want to try, all of it!”

“All right, all right!” Hope laughed, leaning in to kiss the top of his head, walking around the sofa to sit by his side. “Where do we start?”

“We start tomorrow morning with a tour through the vines. There’ll be breakfast at the Great Hall available for all guests until 11 a.m., but our guide has scheduled our group for 10 a.m., so there’ll be a mini-tour bus awaiting us just outside the Hall at 9:50 a.m., which means we should go to breakfast no later than 9 a.m. What do you say?” He asked, turning to look at his mum. She was still smiling, eyes glistering with excitement.

“I think it’s lovely, darling. And what about today? We still have a few hours before it’s dark.”

“Err… Remus eyed his excel screen for a second, but there was nothing scheduled for their arrival day. Remus had worried they might have trouble on their way and end up being late for something. And quite honestly, they’d been traveling all day long, and Remus was exhausted. “Nothing scheduled, and I’m not sure if it’s worth doing something big right now. It’s already 4 p.m., mum.”

“And you’re tired?” She looked at him raising an eyebrow. “God, Remus, you are an old man in the body of a 23-year-old, do you know that?”

“I’ve been made aware of it, yes.”

“All right, then. Let’s take tonight to organize this place and go to bed early.”

He sighed, relieved. The nearly-double-bed had been calling to him ever since he first lied eyes on it.

“Thanks, mum,” he said, getting up and making it to the bedroom

“But I don’t want to hear a single sigh of exhaustion for the rest of the week, are we clear?” She called after him.

“Crystal,” he shouted over his shoulder.

The Great Hall was not hyperbolizing itself by using that name. It was, indeed, an enormous hall, with long wooden tables spreading from the high double doors at the entrance all the way to the self-serving buffet that stood at the end, perpendicular to the rest. The windows were high and clear, giving anyone sitting in any corner of the room a beautiful view of the vineyards spreading across the land, and the interior decoration was very similar to that of the cabin, only it looked fancier and more imposing.

Remus and Hope made their way to the buffet, which, Remus came to quickly realise, held a nearly absurd variety of grape based pastries, jams, and juices. Remus made himself a tray and picked a centre-left table to sit at, where his mother quickly joined him.

It was barely 9 p.m. and hope was already beaming. She had helped herself to such a variety of foods that Remus had to hold back a snarky comment. She was just so happy and clearly choosing to enjoy every minute, Remus would never tease her for it.

“Hmmm, this is delicious,” she said, mouth full of croissant and grape jam, and eyes closed in contemplation.

“It really is,” Remus laughed affectionately.

They took their time eating, since they had about 40 minutes before having to meet up with the bus in front of the Great Hall, and enjoyed each other’s company discussing the many aspects of the following week they were looking forward to.

Breakfast done with, they walked to the front staircases and awaited their tour guide. A group of people seemed to be already gathering there too, so Remus assumed it must be the ones they would share a tour bus with. Out of some eavesdropping, Remus could hear most of them speaking English, which only further confirmed his suspicions.

Upon registering, they could choose their language of preference from the tour guides available (English, French and Spanish), and none of those being an option, the winery would provide an interpreter to accompany the tour guide and do the translating of the visit to whoever needed it, into whatever other language they might require. While Remus wanted a full French experience, his Français was no more than a few sentences and some general understanding when listening. He could not hold a conversation if his mother’s life depended on it.

A small, but very modern-looking bus approached and out of it climbed a woman, with her black braids bouncing around her hips, and red lipstick marking out her wide and cheerful smile. She surveyed her crowed, and started in a perfect French, at least as far as Remus could tell.

“Bonjour, tout le vuos! Et bienvenue au Vignoble des Astres! Good morning, everyone, and welcome to the Vignoble des Astres, the ‘Winery of the Stars’. My name is Mary MacDonald, and I will be your guide during this week. Please make your ways up our gorgeous tour bus and make yourselves comfortable. I’ll explain more about our journey together this week on our way to our Stop Zero, where our adventure will start.”

The little group had no more than ten people. They climbed onto the bus and picked their places. Remus allowed his mum to take the window as he sat on the corridor seat.

Mary spent their entire fifteen-minute drive down to their first visiting spot explaining how the journey would take place. She gave them a quick summary of the outgoings of the morning; the guided tour through the wines, would be followed by the first wine and cheese tasting of the week at around, and the entire ordeal would take about four hours, before they were returned to their accommodations and, would then be free to explore the premises, as far as unaccompanied guests were allowed.

The vineyard visiting ended up being quite interesting. Mary explained everything with ease and with a sparkle of pride in her eyes as she described the different types of grapes, and how whether and soil would affect each one of them. She told them about what types of wine were made from each fruit and which ones were her favourites for every time of the year. Hope looked at everything with wide eyes and took in every syllable Mary spoke.

An hour or so later, they arrived at the first wine tasting.

Mary, Remus came to learn then, was not just a tour guide, but also a wine sommelier of the best pedigree. She guided them through the tastes in their mouths, explaining which part of their palate they should focus on each variety of the drink and what cheeses and other meals were the appropriate combinations.

Once that bit of visiting was over, Mary told them they were free to roam around the first floor of the building, where they would find not only other tasting spots (which were occupied by other groups) but shops where they could purchase wine and souvenirs to take home. Remus let his mother to her keychain shopping and went looking for the men’s loo. He found there weren’t any gendered spaces though, only one very enormous and (thank God for rich people’s public bathrooms) very clean and fancy toilet space. It was empty, as far as he could tell, so he chose a cubicle and walked in.

Done with what he had to do, he went out towards the sink and, after washing his hands, he realised there was no paper for drying them in the dispenser (so much for rich people’s bathroom). He walked back into the cubicle he had just used in search of some toilet paper. That’s when he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. Hands dry, he tried picking it out of his pocket, but the angle must have been wrong, because as half of the device had left his pocket, it slipped out of his hand, and not even Remus’ juggling could get him to take hold of it again. He heard the splash in the water before he saw the phone hit it.

His brain froze for a few seconds in which he stared down at the water and was only brought back to life when he saw the screen light up at the bottom of the toilet, which was when he found his voice again.

“FUCK!” he quickly bent forward and shoved his hand down the water to reach for the phone, pulling it out and running to the sink, where he turned the tap on and put the device underneath the running water. It was already soaked anyway, so he might as well try to replace the sanitary water in it with clean water from the sink. Not that Remus had any idea if that was the actual best choice to try and recuperate his phone, which was already showing signs of water stains underneath the screen and was starting to glitch.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” he kept muttering under his breath, now trying to dry his phone with more toilet paper he’d gone back to retrieve from the damned cubicle. He wasn’t being successful on damage control, though.

“Is everything all right?” Came a voice from behind him, and Remus jumped slightly. He hadn’t seen anyone walking in.

“Does this look all right to you?” Remus spat, turning around to face the stranger.

The man was clearly taken aback by Remus’ rude response because he stepped backwards and put both his hands in the air as if to say he was no threat.

“Easy, mate. I just heard someone muttering a lot of “fucks” in here and decided to check if there was something I could do about it.”

Remus sighed exasperated, then ran a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I just-,” he cut himself off, looking down at his phone, which had now started to restart itself repeatedly, with a glitching screen shinning on Remus’ hopeless hand.

The other man followed his line of vision and his confused expression cleared when he saw what the fuss had been about.

“Oh, I see,” he muttered.

Remus sighed, leaning his back against the nearest wall, and allowing his body to slide to the floor. He dropped the phone on the floor beside him, looking at it hopelessly as the stranger continued to hover above him. Remus expected him to leave; there was obviously nothing he could do for him and, given the awkwardness of the situation, that would have probably been Remus’ move, if the roles were reversed. But the man didn’t go anywhere. Instead, he sat on the floor next to Remus.

“You could put it on a bowl of rice, but I’m afraid we don’t have any available here. We could ask the kitchens but they’re quite a long drive away from here…”

“I just ran it under the tap, and judging by the looks of it,” he gestured to the phone. The screen had started to bloat. Bloat. “I think it’s too late.”

The other man just nodded and went quiet.

Remus felt slightly uncomfortable with that odd lingering presence. He was about to lose his mind and he certainly didn’t require an audience for it. He had spent every penny on that trip for his mum, and he didn’t have plans (or a budget) to change his phone for at least another year. And, hell, it wasn’t even just about the money, but now his week ought to be absolutely ruined. How good can a vacation be when it already starts like that? If Lily were there, she would’ve told him it was mercury in retrograde or the moon doing a double twist in its axis or something else he didn’t understand a word of. But Lily wasn’t there and, instead of his best friend, Remus had a stranger, at whom he had just shouted at, sitting by his side on a bathroom floor. Fucking perfect.

“Are you going to just sit there or is there a reason you’re keeping my misery company?”

Remus finally snarked out after a long – very, very long – moment of silence.

“I’m sorry about your phone,” the stranger said, and it was the sound of kindness in his voice that made Remus finally look at him. Really look at him.

The first thing he noticed were the eyes. They were icy grey, but not in a cold and heavy way. They were warm and piercing at the same time, and Remus had a sudden and odd feeling run through his body when he locked his own honey eyes into them. As if some part of him didn’t want to let go of that gaze. Remus often had a hard time looking into other people’s eyes, he always felt too exposed, even if there was nothing to hide. And while he did feel that same sense of exposure looking into this man’s eyes, he quickly realised that he didn’t mind.

It took him a very ( and, in hindsight, weird) time to break the lock those eyes had on him and be able to admire their frame. And it was very admirable, indeed. Black waves of hair ran down around the man’s face, stopping just above his shoulders, where the strands curled a little bit more. It looked thick and well cared for, and it sat just right around high cheekbones and a sharp jaw that looked like it had been taken right out of a movie star’s face. Remus had to put some effort into keeping his own jaw in place.

When he came back to his senses, Remus didn’t know how long he had stared for, admiring the stranger’s face, so he blinked a few times to clear his head and swallowed to make sure his voice was still at reach when he finally decided to speak.

“Thank you,” he said, while internally cursing the blood he felt running to his face. “I’m sorry I was rude, it’s just-,”

“Oh, never mind that! I get it.”

“Thank you,” Remus said again, stupidly.

The man chuckled, and they went silent. The discomfort started to build up in Remus again.

“Look, I really don’t mean to be rude,” he said, more carefully this time. “But does your sitting here with me have a purpose or…?”

The man chuckled again.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out. I was just looking for a quiet place, myself, so I was passing by, and you were in here cursing, and then I saw you-,” he seemed to run out of words, his mouth lingering open for a moment more before he closed it and shrugged. “I don’t really know why I stayed,” he finished, in a lower voice.

Silence, again. They stared at each other, and Remus found it became less awkward by each second; he didn’t mind the view, and the view didn’t seem to mind his appreciation of it.

“I can leave you alone if you want,” the other man said, finally breaking their trance, and looking like he was about to get up.

“No, it’s all right,” Remus caught himself saying. “You can stay, I don’t mind.”

The man sat back down.

“What’s your name?” He asked.

For some reason, the question took Remus by surprise, as if asking someone’s name when you don’t know it wasn’t the most natural thing in the world. He gave himself a moment and braced himself for whatever face he would get in return for giving his answer. People tended to need facial nerve paralysers to keep their expressions neutral when he told them his name.

“Remus,” he said, raising his chin, already in defensive mode.

 But the man just smiled.

“Hi, Remus! I’m Sirius.”

Now, Remus was the one who had to hold his expression in place. What in hell was the name Sirius? Not that he was one to talk, but still.

None of them seemed to know what to say next. Fucking hell, Remus thought, how many uncomfortable silences can two people have in such a short span of time?

“So, Remus, are you here with family?” Sirius asked, friendly.

“My mum,” Remus replied, shortly.

His first instinct was to leave it at that. He wasn’t one to make small talk; he usually held himself to the belief that if you don’t have anything useful or relevant to say, you just don’t say anything. But something compelled him to keep going, as if making small talk with this Sirius boy wasn’t such a living hell as it would feel like with most people. Something told him “ask a question in return”. Usually, it was just his brain telling him that’s how people usually have conversations and that he should try to act normal and polite, as it usually did when he found himself in awkward social situations. No, it wasn’t politeness, it was more profound than that. He wanted to keep listening to Sirius’ voice.

“What about you?” he asked.

“I, uhmm-,” Sirius’ eyes went empty for a second, as his mind traveled elsewhere. But before Remus could wonder where that was, the raven-haired man blinked, and his expression was back to normal when he completed his reply. “I work here.”

“Brilliant!” (Brilliant? What the hell sort of reply is “brilliant” to the phrase “I work here?”).

“Do you like it?” Remus tried amending his odd comment.

“Working here? I-, yes. I love wine, and all the science and creation behind it. I also love the concept of the place!” Sirius spoke with such ease of the winery around them, Remus couldn’t help smiling as he listened. He wanted to hear more.

“It’s really beautiful here. Go on, tell me more!” he incited Sirius to keep talking.

And the man was happy to oblige. He went on babbling about how much he adored the place and what the owners had done to it in the last few years. He talked about the vines and the brand-new attractions. He talked and talked and talked some more, and Remus was listening. Then the conversation switched, and suddenly Sirius was asking Remus what he did for a living.

Remus, who would usually keep that answer to no more than a couple of sentences, suddenly found himself telling Sirius the story of his life. What classes he took back at university, what places he loved to go to, first in Wales, and then later in London, when he and his mum moved after his dad died. He talked and talked and talked some more, and Sirius was listening.

They could have been there for hours and not notice, but it was probably no more than ten or fifteen minutes, because his mother eventually came looking for him.

Hope showed up at the door, first slightly worried, then very confused when she saw the two men on the floor.

“Remus,” she said. “I’ve been looking for you, darling. Mary says we have to go.”

“Oh yes, right!” He said, quickly getting up to his feet. He looked down to see his phone, still on the floor and screen now dead and clearly water stained from the inside. It was really gone. He sighed, remembering why he had been on the floor, in the first place, then he bent down and picked up the phone, slipping it back into his pocket.

Then, he looked awkwardly at the man beside him. Sirius had got to his feet too and was now rearranging himself.

“Uhm, yeah, I’ll be right there, mum,” Remus said, and Hope left to wait for him outside. “Got to go, I suppose,” Remus mumbled, turning back to his not-so-stranger-anymore.

“Yeah, uhmm.. enjoy your stay,” Sirius said, smiling at him.

“Thank you,” Remus smiled back. He turned to go, but a hand caught his wrist. He looked back, surprised, and Sirius seemed to deflate slightly, realising what his hand just done on pure instinct.

The man stuttered for a moment, before having his question come out of his mouth. Remus waited patiently.

“What cabin are you staying in? If you don’t mind, I- I would really like to talk t you again. I would ask for your phone number, but I suppose that wouldn’t be much help now, would it?”

Remus laughed.

“No, it wouldn’t. And I don’t mind. I-, I’d like to talk to you again too,” he said, a silly smile on his face. “The cabin is 254.”

“254,” Sirius repeated, more to himself than to Remus. He said it like a mantra, like it meant more to him than just a random temporary address of a man he had just met. To Remus, it sounded like a promise.

“254.” Remus parroted one last time. Then he smiled and walked away.

254. Two, five, four. Two hundred and fifty-four.

Remus checked the outside of his cabin time and time again, making sure he hadn’t remembered the number wrong. Or maybe he had said it wrong, maybe he had said something like 524, or 245. Maybe something had got lost in translation between the numbers leaving his mouth in a slight Welsh accent and finding the stranger’s ears, which were so clearly trained in French. The stranger, Sirius. His stranger.

God, he sounded like a teenager crushing over a pretty boy. What the hell was that? He’d met the guy once and he just couldn’t think of anything else, as if they’d just had the most romantic date ever and not just a weird and messy encounter in a public bathroom. For fuck’s sake, the man had probably forgotten everything about him five seconds after he walked away.

He shifted his focus to the visitation he was supposed to be enjoying next to his mum, keeping her good company instead of acting like a fifteen-year-old schoolboy.

The day slipped away, and Remus did his best to focus on wine production and all the romanticism built around the place. Not having a phone meant he couldn’t obsess over finding Sirius on social media or even filling Lily in on what happened the other day. So, he joined his mum in tasting and judging scents and notes of flavour as if he understood it in the slightest. He acted like the adult he was, interested in different varieties of grapes and the beverages they produced, along with the best options of cheese to go with it. He did his best to put on a tranquil face, but, God, was he in agony from sunrise to sundown.

And it wasn’t until a couple of hours after sundown, really, that his restlessness was settled into anxiety, as a knock sounded on his door.

Remus jumped from the couch where he was taking a nap. Hope, who was at the kitchen table scrolling through her phone, made to get up, but Remus was faster.

“I’ll get it,” he said, already halfway to the door.

He stopped, before opening it up, and checked himself quickly. His hair must’ve been all weird from laying on it, so he shook his head down to bounce the curls, and then lightly slapped both his cheeks to get his face to properly wake up. He straightened his clothes, took a deep breath, and opened the front door.

There was a moment, a second, between his hand reaching for the knob and the door opening, where Remus feared it wouldn’t be Sirius. With his luck, it would end up being one of the neighbours asking for sugar. But, against Remus’ pessimist mind, there he was. Sirius.

He looked prettier than he had yesterday, or maybe that was just Remus’ eyes not tired from crying and his mind that had had over 24 hours to dream about this moment.

Sirius was wearing a black leather jacket on top of a dark blue t-shirt and back jeans. That, along with the long black hair, would’ve been a very presumptuous look, had it been anyone else wearing it but, somehow, that man managed to make it look like he had been born in it.

“Hi,” Sirius said, a lopsided smile growing on his face.

“Hi. You came,” Remus replied, trying to mimic the other man’s nonchalance. And failing.

“You didn’t think I’d forget you, did you?” Sirius asked, smirking.

“I- oh I don’t know,” Remus laughed nervously.

“You did!”

“Can you blame me? It’s not every day you meet someone in the middle of a breakdown and then have no means of contacting them afterwards. Forgive me for not knowing what to expect.”

“Okay, fair enough I suppose,” Sirius raised his hands in mock surrender.

They stood there, staring at each other, for a very long and awkward moment, until Remus remembered himself.

“Oh, would you like to come in?”

“I-,” Sirius blinked, and sneaked a look inside through the window, probably spotting Hope in the kitchen. “Actually, I was wondering whether you’d like to walk with me?”

“Walk? Isn’t it a bit late? We were told everything closes at 6 p.m., except the restaurants.”

“Yeah, but err… I sort of have a free pass. C’mon, don’t you trust me?”

“You’re a stranger who I met yesterday, in a bathroom. Am I supposed to trust you?”

“Fair enough,” Sirius chuckled. “I could be a murderer who kills guests and then mix their blood in the wine I serve in the morning.”

“That plan is terrifyingly precise for you to have come up with just now. Should I be worried?” Remus teased.

“Yes,” Sirius answered, very seriously.

And Remus couldn’t help laughing and grinning at this man who was still a complete stranger but, somehow, felt like an old friend.

“Alright, let me just grab my coat.”

Remus hurried inside and just quickly briefed Hope that he was going out for a while. He didn’t even give her time to interrogate him on details (not that he had many, really), just grabbed his coat and jumped out the door, where Sirius was still waiting.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

They walked slowly through the cabins, towards the vineyards in the distance, mostly teasing each other for the first ten minutes; an extension of their conversation at Remus’ front door. The chit-chat slowly merged into Remus telling Sirius all about bringing his mum here, and how it’d been her dream and he’d done everything he could to make it come true. Then they seamlessly slipped into their academic lives and other general aspects.

Sirius didn’t seem much eager to talk about his life, though he was always the one to make Remus hook one story into the next. He felt like one of those people who never let a conversation die, even when he’s not the one doing the talking. The best Remus got out of him by the time they reached the vines was that he had a degree in hospitality management (hôtellerie, in his actual words).

They kept the conversation going until Sirius stopped at the top of the hill, the vineyards spreading beneath them, and the sky shining above. He sat there, and Remus followed suit.

He looked around, taking in the view. During the day, the place was gorgeous, imposing and well arranged in all ways. At night, it was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen.

There were lights lightening up the way down through the vines, keeping the paths well-lit in case of an emergency, but it wasn’t bright enough to obfuscate the stars above. Those were the real deal.

The winery was quiet and dark enough at night that the stars were never outshined, never lost in a sea of artificial lights that could take away their space, the way it happens in big cities. It was beautiful, every little spot shining and marking its place with presence and power, turning the night sky into a sparkling sea washing over them.

Sirius wasn’t watching the sky, though. Sirius was watching Remus.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“It’s beautiful,” he breathed. “But are you sure we can be here?”

“Of course, I am.”

“Won’t your bosses be mad or something?” Remus asked, trying the waters on a subject he’d been thinking about since they met.

“Nope.”

“Sirius?”

“Yeah?”

“You own the place, don’t you?”

“I-,” His eyes closed for a moment, probably anticipating that Remus would be mad about the lie. He wasn’t, he didn’t know why he hadn’t told him, but it wasn’t that big of a deal either. “Yeah,” he replied, biting his lip. “I’m sorry I lied.”

“It’s okay,” Remus laughed it off. “I just don’t see why you’d lie.”

“It’s just-, people usually feel intimidated by my name around here. And it’s annoying because then everybody starts acting like they have to walk on eggshells around me, thinking I’m like my father, probably. And I try so hard to prove that I am not like him, not like the other Blacks.” He stopped, then looked at emus. “God, you’re going to think I’m the worst kind of privileged prat who complains about having money.”

Remus could see Sirius was genuinely upset about the idea of any of their dynamics changing because of this new revelation.

“Hey, I don’t care about any of that. For one, I have no idea who your family are, and couldn’t give less of a fuck about your name. And as far as being a privileged prat… not going to lie to you mate, you do look like one. But it doesn’t bother me.”

Sirius looked up at him sheepishly but smiling.

“Really?”

“Really,” Remus smiled reassuringly. “So,” he said, aiming to shake the conversation up a little bit, “by your tone, I see you don’t fancy talking about your family. But you must have someone by your side. Come on, tell me about your friends?”

Sirius’ shy smile turned into a grin that took over his entire face, eyes shimmering with love and pride, and Remus knew for a fact that, had he been standing up, his legs would have lost their balance at the sight.

He started telling Remus all about his friends, the best people in the world, in his own words. There was Marlene and her partner Dorcas, who together ran the wineries in South America (there was one in Chile and one in the south of Brazil).

Before he took over the family’s business (when his father was still alive, that is) he had done everything in his power to stay as far away from home as he could, so he took his studies to every single corner of the world. He had spent a few months doing an internship in Brazil, and that’s where he met Marlene. They hit it off instantly and had been inseparable ever since.

“It was madness,” he was saying. “Almost as if we were the exact same person but born in different sides of the globe. I’m telling you; we share a braincell, McKinnon and me. Though she is usually the one using it.”.

From there, the two started synching their internship program and doing everything together. For the South American leg of their program, they went from Brazil to Argentina, then Chile, and finally a month in Paraguay, where Marlene met Dorcas and fell in love instantly. Then three months in the US, and three in Canada, before they had to go their separate ways; Marlene went to spend a year in Scotland for a boarding program in Edinburgh, and Sirius went to South Korea. By the end of that year, Sirius’ father died, and that’s when everything changed.

“By Black family tradition, I should have inherited the winery and the money, but my darling father wasn’t about to leave the family legacy to the gay child. Nope,” he stared into the dark, and Remus touched his shoulder, offering comfort. “He never entirely kicked me out, but he might as well. When I was sixteen, my friend James’ family took me in, back in England. Father and mother pretended I was just away to complete my studies in the UK, but we all knew the truth.” He shrugged and shook his head slightly, trying to cast away the dark tone the conversation had taken.

He blinked a few times and then looked at Remus again. Remus smiled at him, reassuringly, which apparently gave him a reason to go on. He smiled too and continued. “And that’s where James comes in. He’s been my rock since we were eleven. We used to go to this fancy boarding school in Scotland, which already meant I wasn’t home for most of the year. Eventually, I started staying at James’ for Christmas break, then half of the summer break. My parents didn’t like that; they were bigoted in every way possible, so having their eldest son befriend a family of immigrants was outraging. I think they only allowed them because the Potters had an acceptable amount of money for the Black’s to respect them. They still wanted me home at some point in the year, though. Keeping up appearances, and all that shit. But when I was sixteen, I came out to my parents and-, well, let’s just say it wasn’t pretty. Then, I simply stopped coming back home at all. No one complained. James’ parents, on the other hand…” a smile grew back on his face, shining across those grey eyes, “the Potters were perfect. They took me in and embraced me, all of me. They took care of me as if I were they’re own son. I would do anything for them, quite literally. And James, he is my favourite person in the whole world, the bastard. I don’t know what my life would have been like had I not found him.”

Remus paid attention to every word, and it didn’t take much to understand that Sirius felt with his entire soul, that he was the sort of person who gave himself entirely for the people he loved and cared for. It was also very clear that he had had to learn from a very young age how to find those people away from home, in new friends and new worlds.

“Wait, I just don’t follow one thing,” Remus said, as the story started processing on his brain. “you said your father didn’t want you to have this place. How come you do, then?”

“My baby brother,” Sirius grinned again. “My father left it all to him and, the second the old man was underneath the earth, Regulus split it all with me. Fifty-fifty. Reg was never like my family, very far from that, in fact. He was just better than me at playing the game, and, by that, I mean he was better at staying in the closet for long enough. By the time he came out, dad had already signed it all over to him, and I reckon he didn’t have time to figure out who else to sign it off to take it away from Reggie before he died. So, he split it with me, and we changed the place around.”

“It’s amazing here. You did a good job.”

“Thank you,” Sirius smiled in pride. “It’s crazy, really. If you’d asked me when I was sixteen if I wanted anything to do with the family business, I would have laughed my guts out at you. But well, I always liked wine and the romance around it, and I already knew I wanted to work with people, giving them new experiences, hence why I was traveling the world studying hôtellerie. The whole going against my homophobic father’s final wishes and pissing off my mother was just a bonus.”

Remus laughed, lightly. He could listen to Sirius talking forever, he realised. It was easy and felt right.

“But enough of my traumatized past,” Sirius said. “This feels far too deep a dive for a first date.”

“A first date?” Remus teased. “I wasn’t aware this was a date.”

Sirius blinked, and Remus could swear he blushed lightly, red cheeks showing up in the moonlight.

“I-, I just-,” he tried, and Remus witnessed as that all-eloquent man stammered, nervous.

“It’s alright,” he finally put Sirius out of his misery. “It can be a date, if you want it to be.”

“I do want it to be,” Sirius smiled, relieved. Remus smiled back.

“It’s a date then.”

They morphed conversation over to less profound topics, sending questions back and forth between lighter subjects. Remus quickly found that liking Sirius was very easy, and it came as second nature to him to just let the conversation flow. From favourite foods to favourite places, they talked it all. Teasing each other where it was due and disagreeing where it was necessary From Sirius confessing that his comfort book was “The Perks of Being a Wallflower” (Remus: “Really? Couldn’t have picked a more depressing book?”) to Sirius arguing that the only reason Remus liked the Star Wars prequel trilogy better than Luke’s one was because he probably had a crush on both Anakin and Padme (Sirius: “you’re such a bisexual cliché, I swear to God”.).

The minutes melted into hours, but they didn’t care. Forever wouldn’t be long enough for them.

“Guilty pleasure, go!” Sirius said.

“Taylor Swift,” Remus said, biting his lower lip.

“Oh, c’mon Remus, I think we, as a species, have evolved past the need to feel embarrassed for liking Taylor Swift.” Sirius replied.

“Hey, I know it’s bonkers and absolutely misogynistic to feel like that. I don’t want to feel like that, but I suppose that’s just how I was hardwired to be. It’s hard to turn it off.”

“No, it’s not!” Sirius laughed and turned entirely to face Remus now. “It’s a choice, one that you have to make right here and now.” He said, raising his chin. “So, Remus Lupin, what is your choice? To live in shame because of this sexist, bigoted society or to be your entire self and allow yourself to scream the bridge to Cruel Summer at full lungs in a very public place.”

“Ughh that seems like a lot to take in one go,” Remus grimaced, but he was holding back a laugh.

“Remus! What is your choice?!” Sirius urged him to answer.

“Okay, okay!” he finally laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I choose to scream the lyrics to Cruel Summer at full lungs in a very public place! I shall embrace my swiftie side and make sure the world knows of my love the one and only Blondie ^TM.”

“YES!!” Sirius jumped in celebration of his little victory. He moved slightly closer to Remus, “so, important question now.”

“Yes?”

“Evermore or Folklore.”

“Oh, I feel like the answer here might have a lot of weight.”

“It does,” Sirius said, nodding seriously.

“Okay, so the first thing you need to know is I love them both very much.”

“We all do, Remus. But that’s not an answer.”

“Fine,” he took a deep breath, as if bracing himself for a blow. “Folklore.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me! Evermore is so much better!”

“Folklore is the blueprint, and it’s so much more poetic. I’m a poetry bitch, I’m sorry!”

“More poetic, my arse! Evermore is the album of champagne problems, and ‘tis the damn season, and ivy and cowboy like me!” Sirius said it all with such passion that Remus only felt the gravity between them pulling stronger.

“I know, and I love it!” He said, putting a hand to his heart to show he was truthful. “But Folklore is the album of peace and hoax and august, betty and cardigan!”

“So unfair. Just because evermore is Taylor’s least favourite child, doesn’t mean you have to hate it too. Poor evermore, still waiting on its long pond studio sessions.”

“Bad timing for me to confess something?”

“I don’t know, what other terrible news could you give me?” Sirius raised an eyebrow, teasing.

“I’ve never watched folklore’s long pond studio sessions.” Remus said, very slowly, in a low voice.

“I-, putain, Remus!” Sirius exclaimed, flabbergasted. “How?!”

“I-, look, all of this swiftie thing is very new to me, alright?” Remus replied, apologetically. “I already loved 1989, but, you know, in secret because I was ashamed of it, and then folklore came out and I fell completely for blondie. But I don’t have a Disney+ subscription and never took the time to stop and subscribe and watch it. At first, I was just stalling and eventually it just became this thing I never did.”

“We need to fix that!” Sirius said, gallantly.

“Oh yeah? How?”

Sirius thought for a second, studying Remus’ face with gleaming grey eyes, so intensely that Remus felt like he was about to turn into a tomato. No one ever paid that much attention to his face without making him uncomfortable, as if they were judging every single acne scar on his cheek, every little spot marking his nose, all the marks across the face of a 23-year-old man who still felt as if he lived in the skin of a teenager. He’d gone to dermatologists and beauticians, tried every cream and oil and mask. Taking pills, changing diets, going through procedures; he’d done it all. Nothing worked though, so he resigned himself to his fate. He had come to terms with that a long time ago, but it was still a sore spot on his self-esteem, something strangers would stare at and pity. It usually made him uncomfortable when people stared at his face for too long, driving him to look away and hide, ashamed. Not with Sirius though.

Sirius had a way of looking at him that defied everything he’d ever expected to see in the eyes of a stranger, especially one so handsome. It wasn’t pity or disgust, someone analysing his scars as if they were trying to come up with a new suggestion for his issue, nor was it someone over-politely pretending as if they didn’t see them. No, Sirius very clearly did see them, the black spots and the red ones, the deep, old scars, and the fresh new dots. Sirius saw him, and he took it all in willingly and gladly, not looking for anything to change, but only to see. Remus felt vulnerable, but in a good way, as if he could trust Sirius to shed his skin and then put it back in place, exactly the way he’d found it, and it wouldn’t hurt to be seen.

“Sirius?” He asked, after what felt like almost a few minutes of silence.

“Hmm?” Sirius blinked, his eyes leaving Remus’ nose, where they’d been fixed for a few moments now, back to his eyes. “Oh, sorry, I- uhh-,”

“You were saying we ought to change my never-having-watched-folklore's-long-pond situation.” Remus supplied.

“Oh yes, that!” Sirius gathered himself. “What are you doing on Friday? At around, let’s say… 5 a.m.?”

“5 a.m.? Are you mental?”

“Come on, just trust me.” Sirius pleaded, and those shining eyes under the night sky looking at Remus were all it took. Remus was a goner, and he knew that all too well (pun intended).

“And what do I bring?” Remus inquired, doing his best to act nonchalant.

“All your past heartbreaks will do. We need to set the mood, my dear,” Sirius said, solemnly.

“What about your past heartbreaks?” Remus asked.

“Oh, I don’t have any.”

“I beg your pardon. What, were you always the one to do the heart-breaking in your relationships?”

“I, er…, have never… been in a relationship?”

“You’re kidding me, right?? You?”

“Hey, I grew up gay in a very conservative family.”

Remus bit back his snarky comment because, yup, that would do it.

“Yeah, I suppose that might have a repelling relationship effect,” he said, apologetically.

“It really does,” Sirius replied, nodding emphatically. “James always says I probably suppressed such a big part of myself growing up that when I finally got to adult life, I didn’t know how to approach people in any way that not for friendship. I’ve had people, after I got out, obviously. But never long enough to seriously enough to call it a relationship.”

“So, you and James never…?”

“What? No, ew! I mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s pan, so that bit wouldn’t be an issue, and he’s fit as hell, I would totally go for him if he were a stranger in a bar.”

“But he’s not a stranger in a bar.” Remus finished for him.

“No, he’s my best friend.” Sirius smiled. “He’s the guy who got me through every shitty thing in my life. There’s just no other light I could see him under, that’s all. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

“You have?”

“Yup. I think we were like thirteen or so, and I felt so left out because everybody around me was falling in love and getting their hearts broken. I wanted to be a part of that, you know? Have a story to tell. So, I-,” Sirius cut himself off, looking down.

“So,” Remus chimed in, gently, “you focused all that urge to find a relationship in someone you already trusted and loved. Because that would make it easier?”

“Yeah,” Sirius nodded, and looked up to the night. He looked slightly ashamed.

“Hey,” Remus reached a hand and placed it on top of Sirius’. “That’s the most natural thing in the world. You were looking for a safe place to put your love; that same love that people told you was the wrong kind of love your entire life. It’s okay.”

Sirius smiled at him, grateful. Then, he cleared his throat before proceeding.

“Anyways, we kissed once, because we were both curious, and I felt so fucking embarrassed for ever thinking that could feel right. It felt like incest, I swear to fuck.”

“And what would you know about incest?” Remus laughed.

“Only my entire family is a circle.” Sirius deadpanned.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Remus burst out.

“Nope,” Sirius shook his head. “True as the air we’re breathing. Mum and Dad are first cousins, and so are half of my aunts and uncles. Pretty sure there is even some sibling’s tying up the knot in our family tree.”

“Ew, ew! That’s disgusting.”

“Yup! Me and my brother always joked that we could get married and the gay aspect of the matrimony would be the most shocking part for the family.”

Sirius grimaced a bit, and Remus sensed he was annoyed for having slipped back into family talk. He clearly didn’t want to have to talk about that, but probably kept falling that same rabbit whole by accident. Remus decided to take the reins of the subject.

“Oh yes. You see, you having a sibling in a family where inbreed seems to be so common complicates the aspect of me marrying you and stealing all your money. I might have to take your brother out of the picture.”

Sirius exhaled, relieved, and the smile grew on his face again, smirking.

“What are you saying, Remus?”

“That I might have to kill this Regulus to fulfill my evil plan. I’m thinking drowning, for the method.”

Sirius audibly mock-gasped, putting a dramatic hand to his chest. “Oh dear, I must warn him!”

“Too late,” Remus replied. “Already done.”

“But up until half an hour ago, you didn’t even know he existed.”

“Or I did and I was just playing you so you wouldn’t try and save him.”

“And what about his body? Do I even get to say goodbye?”

“I’m sorry, love. But no body, no crime. Learned from the best.”

“I’m sure you did.”

They burst into laughter, their bodies gravitating towards each other as they broke down. Remus felt his stomach hurt. He hadn’t had such a great time in very long. It felt good.

“You know, joke’s on you, Remus. Because Regulus was never going to marry me. He’s already taken. So, you’ve committed a crime for nothing. How does it feel to be a murderer with no purpose?”

“Oh, what have I done?” Remus gasped, before breaking down into another fit of laughter.

They laid there, side by side, as the laughter ran out of their systems and the sweet aftertaste of quiet and peace settled on their bones. The stars shone just for them, lightening up the night sky like Christmas lights over everything they could see. The air was chill, but not cold. Everything was perfect, everything was good.

Later that night, after Sirius had walked Remus back to his cabin and promised to find him again tomorrow, Remus laid in bed reminiscing the last hours. It didn’t take him long to reach for his laptop and open Spotify, searching for Taylor Swift. Sirius was right; how could anyone ever be embarrassed for enjoying such good music. It took him only a minute to find the song he was looking for. He smiled as the first familiar chords ran their ways into his ears, and he smiled.

“There I was again tonight…”

“You know, you could have brought the food the first time around if you already wanted it to be a date,” Remus said, as they reached the top of the hill and found their spot again.

Sirius was already laying out a picnic cloth on the ground and setting a very big breakfast basket on top of it.

“I wasn’t sure how much of a date that was going to be,” Sirius said.

“Well, this one is no less peculiar. Tell me, do you make it a habit to start your dates at 5 a.m.?”

“No, I’ve told you I don’t really have a romantic life. I just thought this would be nice, but I’m sailing on completely uncharted waters here. Trust me, you’ll like it; drinking wine at the break of dawn while listening to good music.”

“Yeah, it’s actually quite unique. I’ve been to sunset dates, and lunch dates and late-night dates. But never waking-hours-of-crazy-people dates,” Remus teased.

“Shuddup,” Sirius laughed, sitting down, and motioning for Remus to do the same.

They settled and started talking, and it was easy for Remus to forget that until a week ago, he and Sirius had been total strangers. They fell into each other easily, and nothing seemed to demand effort; not conversation, nor silence. It was comfort in the shape of another person, and Remus couldn’t believe his luck.

“Doesn’t your mum mind that you’re running off with me all the time?” Sirius asked.

“Nah, she’s cool. I think she likes having a bit of time for herself. And she never minds anything, as long as I’m happy,” he smiled as he said it, and Sirius smiled too.

“She sounds lovely.”

“She is. You’ll have to meet her before we leave,” Remus said, and it took him a second to register the implications behind those words. It was only when he saw Sirius’ smile falter that he felt his own stomach dropping. This was all very magical, and completely out of a romance book, but it had a finish line. A due date, two days from now, and Remus was terrified.

Sirius cleared his throat, then opened his laptop screen.

“Let’s get it started, then.”

“Shall we open the bottle?” Asked Remus.

“Please, let me do the honours,” Sirius grinned, turning his attention away from his computer screen, which was already set to start, and grabbing the wine.

He opened the bottle and then poured each of them a glass, before pressing play.

“Here we go,” he whispered, grinning wildly at the screen. Remus had to tear his eyes from the other boy’s face and direct them onto the laptop.

As Taylor popped on the screen, they clicked their glasses and sipped their wine, getting comfortable together.

Remus felt himself entranced by the screen at once, but never losing awareness of the man sitting beside him. They watched it, mostly, in silence, with short comments here and there, eating pastries and sipping wine. At one point, Remus caught Sirius mouthing the lines along to the songs. When exile started playing, he even joined in with the duet, taking over Taylor’s verses, and then they could barely listen to the actual artists singing on the screen; their own off-pitch voices louder than the laptop volume and taking over the tune. They finished the dramatic duet with a fit of laughter they just couldn’t contain.

By the time betty gave way to peace, Sirius had his head on Remus’ shoulder, and the empty bottle of wine had been already tossed aside, along with the now nearly empty basket of pastries.

“Do you want more wine?” Sirius whispered.

“Later,” Remus whispered back.

As the lyrics evolved, Remus let himself get immersed by one of his favourite songs. It was so intimate, and, although small to the ears, it could feel his entire heart. It felt the same as the little moment he was now sharing with Sirius.

The feeling that he could just be there, forever, and never need anything else. He’d known Sirius for less than a week, but the simple way in which they worked together had been crystal clear from the start. Being with him could be quiet or loud, messy or organized in the tidiest spreadsheet; it could be it all, but it always felt right.

Even though they were clearly still in the honeymoon part of getting to know each other, Remus could already see the spots where they could crash and explode, leaving scatters flying all around. Sirius had never experienced a relationship before, which made him open and transparent in all he did, and all he felt, whereas Remus had plenty of scars in his heart to make him put up very thick walls whenever he felt they were needed.

On top of that, Sirius was loud and outgoing, always seeking to be the centre of attention, to be heard and looked at. Remus, on the other hand, enjoyed the quiet and calm of being by himself, keeping a low-profile and living in his own little world. In the past, whenever someone came into his life and threatened to disrupt that tranquillity, he had made all he could to step away. Someone with the livelihood and volume of Sirius Black, in theory, should’ve scared him away with no more than one conversation.

But Remus quickly found that he didn’t mind the uncertainty of falling for that beautiful creature, or the noise and movement that Sirius would be bringing into his life. With him, there was a comforting kind of peace in finding none, in never being perfectly still. Always breaking with the tide and washing over the shore, in perfect chaos that only nature can master. Because that’s what Sirius Black was; a force of nature that flooded Remus’ mind and heart, taking over and taking control. And Remus gave in willingly.

Remus looked down to the head on his shoulder, only to find it turned upwards to him. Around them, the sky wasn’t dark night anymore. Sirius had been right; it was a beautiful view. The sun would be rising over the horizon any minute now, bringing a new day with it. The stars were already fading away, giving space to the warm colours of the break of down melting together. But the only colour Remus had eyes for was icy grey.

And suddenly, he didn’t see anything anymore, because his eyes were closing as his lips parted and he leaned down, with Sirius meeting him halfway.

Kissing Sirius Black was something else. The world spun faster and stood still at the same time, the ground shattering beneath their feet whilst making Remus feel safer than he’d ever felt in his entire life. His lips knew what to do, where to go, and it was all as natural as the day breaking around them, turning darkness to light. Their bodies fit together and their souls collided and imploded into one simple entity that took over them both. They felt like a perfect cliché of all the cringiest descriptions of soul mates, fated to find each other, collapsing, and bursting into flames that set fire to everything. But they never turned to ashes.

Remus tasted the wine in Sirius’ lips, getting drunk on it, but his mind had never been more awake. He basked in the feeling of someone else’s skin against his, of fingerprints tracing the contours of his body.

The song came to an end, and Sirius held Remus’ face in his hands. The stars had faded from the sky, but Remus found that even in the light of day he could still see them shining in Sirius’ eyes.

Sirius let go of his face and, smiling, picked up another bottle of red. His face was flushed under new daylight, and the smile on his lips was possibly the most beautiful thing Remus had ever seen.

They drank the rest of the wine, and finished watching the long pond studio sessions, having small breaks for kissing or simply looking at each other. By the time their entertainment had come to an end, Sirius closed the laptop and they dived into silence, only the early morning birds or the occasional noise of the world waking up for a soundtrack.

They were slightly drunk, at this point, and not just in each other’s eyes anymore.

“Sirius?”

“Hmm?”

“How are you so pretty?” Remus asked, twirling a strand of Sirius’ hair between his fingers.

“Sorry?” Sirius giggled.

“You’re a product of incest. Then how come you’re so pretty? Weren’t you supposed to be weird or something? Isn’t that like a side effect to inbreeding?”

Sirius doubled up in laughter.

“I honestly don’t know. Suppose we were just lucky. I don’t know biology, Remus. You’d have to ask James about that.”

“If I ever meet him, I will.” Remus said, leaning closer.

Sirius sprang an arm around him, and Remus rested under it.

“Sirius?”

“Hmm?”

“I want to.”

“Want to what?”

“Meet him one day. Your best friend.”

“Oh,” Sirius said, and Remus looked up at him. He was smiling. “I want you to meet him too,” he whispered.

“I don’t want to say goodbye. I want to see you again.” Remus felt the fear in his own voice and felt silly, almost like a child. He was tipsy, but that wasn’t the wine speaking.

“I don’t want to say goodbye either,” Sirius said, his voice only a tad firmer than Remus’.

Remus settled his head on Sirius’ chest, and they were quiet for a minute again, with Remus focusing on Sirius’ heartbeat under his right ear, and his breathing over his face.

“Remus?” Sirius said, quietly.

“Hmm?”

“Je te le jure.”

“Promise me what?” Remus asked, without looking up.

He felt Sirius bending down towards him, pressing his lips to Remus’ forehead. Remus closed his eyes as Sirius lifted his kiss, only so he could whisper.

“I promise you that we are not saying goodbye.”

Remus believed him in heartbeat. He smiled then closed his eyes and, feeling very sleepy, comfortable, and happy, he nodded off.

Remus left the shop and promptly looked for a place to sit down. He was just too anxious to wait until he got home. He found a bench in a quiet corner of a park and settled himself on it. He liked this part of London; it was quiet and there were never too many tourists walking around, so he’d have some privacy even in a very public space.

The little piece of paper was already in his hand. He smiled at it; the neat numbers traced across it gave him a sense of nostalgia for his adolescence; teenagers sharing their phones on a piece of paper ripped from a textbook, anxiously thinking about one simple phone call.

He pulled his brand-new phone out of his pocked and looked at the shiny screen for a moment. He’d borrowed some money from Lily to be able to buy it, and he would spend the next several months paying her back. But right now, he didn’t care.

With his fingers shaking, he dialed the numbers and saved the contact. Then he started the call and brought the device up to face him. With every ring, his heart raced.

“Hello, you.”

Remus heard the voice first, as the image took a few extra seconds to load on his screen. He closed his eyes and let it sink to his nerves; a sound he had spent the last three days longing to hear, ever since he’d left France behind with nothing but a ruined phone and a tight heart. That simple “hello” had given him air again.

He opened his eyes and saw Sirius grinning back at him.

“Hello, you.”

“God, I miss you,” Sirius burst out with a sigh, looking as relieved as Remus felt.

Sirius was walking somewhere, but his eyes never left the screen for longer than a second. If Remus hadn’t been completely hypnotized by those grey eyes, he might have suggested he looked where he was going so as not to bump on anyone or anything.

“I miss you too,” Remus smiled at him. “But hey, now I have a decent way of contacting you!”

“Good, because I was starting to fear I’d have to start sending you letters or something. I might be a hopeless romantic, but I am not patient enough to put up with the mail system.”

Remus laughed, feeling his chest burst with joy.

“So, what are you doing next weekend?” Sirius asked, out of nowhere.

“Oh, I dunno,” Remus shrugged. “I just got back, probably will just lay back and enjoy my bedroom for a couple of days.”

“You are such an old lady,” Sirius teased.

“Why, thank you,” Remus smiled. “Anyway, why d’you ask. Wanna visit?” He asked it as a joke, since as per the French mumbling that could be heard on the background of the call, Sirius was obviously nowhere near London now.

“Actually yes,” Sirius grinned, and it wasn’t teasy or snarky. It was genuine.

“You’re taking a piss!” Remus said.

“Am not!”

“Sirius!” Remus said between a laugh and a gasp of dismay. They had agreed to try through long-distance and visit each other whenever possible, but Remus never expected Sirius to already pop up on what would have been their first weekend apart. That man was unbelievable.

“What? Just thought I haven’t seen the Potters in quite a while, and I really owe them a visit. On the way there I thought I could stop by London for a couple of days and see you. Besides, what’s the fun of being absurdly rich if I don’t use my rich boy money to see my boyfriend whenever I like.”

Remus would’ve found the rich boy joke very amusing had he not been choking on his own breath.

“Your what now?”

Sirius’ grin didn’t falter, and his eyes glistened with mischief. And love.

“Well, I just figured when you take a bloke out to a few dates and you both cry when you finally have to part, but promise to keep in touch and visit and, in those visits, perform acts such as kissing… you could consider him your boyfriend.”

“You have never had a serious relationship in your life and it shows,” Remus said, fighting the smile growing on his lips.

“All right, if that’s not right, then enlighten me. When should you consider someone else your boyfriend?” Sirius raised an eyebrow.

“You start by asking them,” Remus raised his own eyebrow in response.

“Very well then,” Sirius cleared his throat. “Remus Lupin, would you like to be my boyfriend?”

Remus rubbed his chin and frowned his face, as if considering.

“I guess I would, yes,” he finally said, nodding.

“Wowww, thanks for the enthusiasm!”

Remus couldn’t help the stupid giggles coming out of him.

“Yes,” he said, once he’d recomposed himself. “Sirius Black I would very much like to be your boyfriend.”

He felt his cheeks hurt from smiling. And they could hurt forever, as far as he was concerned.

“Alright, boyfriend,” Sirius said. “I’ll be arriving Saturday morning and I expect you to be waiting for me with flowers or chocolate or something.”

“Text me the details?”

“Will do,” Sirius smiled. Then, he cleared his throat, and his expression changed from teasy to mischievous. “Now, important detail: I will not be alone. How do you feel about meeting my brother?”

“Your brother is coming?” Remus was certain his heart skip a couple of beats.

“Do not fret, my dearest. Regulus only found that if I was off to visit my beloved, he should be allowed to visit his. Then we thought it would be nice if we all met in London, since James has a flat there anyway.”

Remus’ jaw dropped. James was Regulus’ boyfriend? How did that never come up before? How did that even happen?! Well, that was a question for another time, because, right now, there were more pressing issues to be discussed.

“James? Are you telling me I’m meeting both your boyfriend and your best friend at the same time?”

“Yes!” Sirius grinned.

“Sirius!” Remus whinged

“What?”

“This is insane!”

“No, this is very sane, actually. And, besides, not my fault my brother and my best friend happen to be romantically involved.”

“Ugghh, I’m going to murder you the second you step foot in England.”

“Oh,” Sirius gasped. “Back to the death threats, I see.”

“Yes,” Remus nodded, solemnly.

“Well, let’s look at the bright side.”

“And what would that be?”

“You get to murder me in person,” Sirius’ face broke again in a lopsided smile, and Remus felt his own face mirroring the expression, as all anxiety left his body.

Sirius would be there with him again, in less than a week. He’d be able to touch him and be touched by him, hold him in his arms and kiss him goodnight. They would be together again. And all would be well. He’d have all week to go mental over the important people he’d be meeting on the weekend, but, right now, he would focus on the one person he was really looking forward to being with again.

“I can’t wait for Saturday,” he said, after a moment.

“I can’t wait for Saturday, either.” Sirius replied. “So, I’ve been thinking of things we can do, since I haven’t been to London in a while…”

Remus rested his back on the park bench and got comfortable as Sirius babbled on about his plans for the coming week. He let his boyfriend’s (boyfriend!!!!!) words wash over him and make him comfortable and, even with all the distance between them, he felt Sirius settling on his chest as he talked and talked and talked some more.

Remus couldn’t care less about the itinerary. They could go to all the most touristy sights in London or just lay in bed all weekend long and it would make no difference to him. As long as he could kiss Sirius whenever he felt like it, and hold his hand, and feel his warmth, he’d be the happiest man in the world.

He watched as the raven-haired man stopped walking and settled down, and Remus suddenly realised Sirius had gone all the way up to their spot above the vineyards.

For a moment, Remus longed for the view of the light dimming on the French sky and considered asking for Sirius to switch to his back camera so he could watch too. But it had been just a passing thought. As Remus caught sight of Sirius’ face illuminated by the pink and orange colours of twilight, and his icy-grey eyes shining through the screen, he knew he had the most beautiful view in the entire world. Suddenly, Remus realised he could almost taste the wine.