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On one of his more positive days, Remus Lupin would describe himself as a pathologically nice person. Often he has found himself physically incapable of hurting another person’s feelings, even in instances where it would be entirely necessary. Such as when he’d asked Penelope Thompson to the school dance in Year 8, and she’d reluctantly agreed on the basis that ‘his height brought him up to a tentative 7 out of 10 on the attractiveness scale’. Remus had desperately longed to alert her that her snaggle tooth and botched box dye weren’t doing her any favours, but, of course, he’d smiled politely and pretended he hadn’t heard her. (Which he also did at the dance, for she rambled on about the never-ending list of medical problems encountered by her pet hamster for so long that Remus began pondering what his obituary notice would read in case he suddenly died of boredom).
The only place where Remus doesn’t feel the need to behave like his usual perfectly polite self, is in the car. There’s an ironic type of freedom to being confined to a stuffy metal box, windows shut and angsty 90s soft rock blasting; as if Remus is entirely isolated and unobserved; free to unleash the depths of his frequently repressed frustrations.
“Oh, fuck off!”, Remus yells, his voice entrapped in the safety of his 2009 Corolla, as some wanker in a BMW decided to change lanes without indicating right in front of him, cutting him off from crossing an intersection, “Cockhead.”
“Remus!” Sirius gasps from beside him, dramatically clutching at his imaginary pearls, “You’d better not continue with that foul language, my friend, because I’m afraid I will come down with a case of the horn.”
Remus scoffs, “Prick.”
Sirius mockingly takes a sharp breath and bites his lip, and Remus flips him off.
“What’s got you in such a mood, anyway?” Sirius asks, flipping the mirror down to examine a stray eyebrow hair that he’d been fiddling with the entire drive, “We’re not running late, are we?”
“Not yet,” Remus flicks his eyes down to the dashboard clock. 2:47. “Ceremony starts at 3, so we should be fine, but this traffic is jam packed with a herd of fuckwits, and I’d bet good money that parking will be a certified nightmare.”
Sirius laughs, finally managing to remove the rogue hair with his bare hands and triumphantly flipping the mirror back into place.
“He won’t be mad if we’re late, will he?
“I don’t know, he’s so bloody unpredictable,” Remus says, the euphoria of a green light washing over him as he turns off the main road into a quiet street, “Some days I’m his favourite person in the world and then others he won’t have a bar of me.”
“I mean, he’s 4, though, right?” Sirius asks, “What does he do when he gets cranky, refuse to sing Itsy Bitsy Spider with you?”
Remus laughs.
“Or is he like you? Does he get that disappointed look on his face that makes you feel burdened with insurmountable guilt before you even know what he’s upset about?” Sirius asks, turning his head to the side and raising an eyebrow at Remus.
Remus’ mouth opens and closes and opens again. “I don’t get that look on my face.”
“Indeed you do, darling, I saw it only just last week when I went home with that guy from the pub that had a neck beard and was wearing purple crocs.”
Remus purses his lips and scrunches his nose at the thought. Neck Beard had also forced them all to drink around of Vodka and Caffeine-Free Redbulls and had called Remus ‘Remington’ the entire evening. Remus was unsure whether he genuinely thought that was his name or he was purposefully being a dick, but Remus was wholly unimpressed by him either way.
“Yes, see, that look!” Sirius abruptly cries, nearly causing Remus to slip his hands off of the steering wheel and lose control of the car, “Oh, I can totally imagine Teddy giving you that look when you told him I’d eaten the last packet of crisps.”
Remus scoffs, “I’m still cross with you for making me be the one to tell him.”
“Well, obviously I couldn’t tell him,” Sirius says, “I want him to think I’m cool. It doesn’t matter if he thinks you’re cool, you’re his dad, he’s always going to like you either way.”
Remus smiles at that. Sirius has been staying with him and Teddy for a few weeks now, which has had Teddy in a relatively good mood for the longest consecutive streak of days possibly in his lifetime (likely because Sirius is remarkably more fun than Remus, and he lets Teddy play with his hair and sneaks him a biscuit whenever he makes Remus a cup of tea).
Sirius’ building was in the midst of receiving a much-needed refresh – he’d been onto the landlord (whom he’d often described as “a balding old tool with a crippling little man complex”) for the better part of a year about the damp floors and beginnings of black mould on the ceilings, and it seemed Sirius had finally annoyed him into submission. Sirius could afford to move into a much nicer building, of course, one with a glass lift and 24hr concierge service, but Alphard had left him the mouldy bachelor pad, and he was quite determined to stay put.
He would’ve stayed with James and Lily, normally, but Harry has been going through the worst of his pre-pubescent mood swings (not unlike those experienced by his godfather), and Lily rightly thought having the two of them living under the same roof for an extended period of time would’ve likely led to some form of an apocalypse.
Living with Sirius has been interesting for Remus, feeling a bit like he’d travelled back in time to his university days, when he was marginally more gangly and awkward, and Sirius and James were just as effervescent and unruly as they’ve continued to be in their adult lives. Only now, they’ve replaced a riotous James Potter with a riotous 4-year-old with a penchant for scribbling on white walls with hot pink markers.
Everything else is relatively the same, though – Remus unconsciously cleaning up after Sirius’ inevitable messes, Sirius ensuring Remus doesn’t fall asleep at his desk, and the two of them sharing a cigarette on the balcony of an evening (which used to round off a night of snogging politically-well-minded strangers and drinking crappy lager, but now acted as a reward for Remus wrangling a toddler into bed, and Sirius providing said toddler with a dramatic reading of a picture book of his choice). It was nice, and Remus had missed spending time with Sirius.
The one thing Remus hadn’t missed, however, was The Pesky Feelings.
He quite naively had not anticipated their return, for The Pesky Feelings had consistently reared their ugly head whenever Sirius and Remus were in such close quarters – first appearing in their second year of uni, when Sirius had let his hair grow out to touch his shoulders and gotten his first tattoo, then dissipating when he’d started going out with a particularly burly rugby player named Saxon in their 3rd year, and then resurfacing when they’d taken a trip to Barcelona for Mary’s 23rd birthday and had been forced to share a double bed that was much too small for two people who were not romantically linked.
Thankfully, Remus had met Dora on that trip, which had been the quashing of The Pesky Feelings for the next 7 years to come.
It’s ridiculous, really, that Remus, on the precipice of entering his 30s, is harbouring a schoolboy crush on his best mate. So, like the Responsible Adult he is, he’s chosen to ignore it wholeheartedly until Sirius eventually moves back into his own flat, and everything returns to how it always was – Remus and Teddy, and, separately, Uncle Sirius, who lives in the city and goes to cool art events and hooks up with strangers that he feels no responsibility toward.
“Fuck, this parking really is hellish,” Sirius says, as Remus fights the urge to aggressively beep his horn at the presumably 103-year-old driver in front of him, who is moving at less than glacial speed.
They eventually nab a spot possibly the furthest away from Teddy’s preschool as they could get, nearly taking out a woman pushing a pram in the process, and are forced to leg it down the road. Sirius, taking any opportunity for a competition, speeds off as soon as Remus has locked the car door, though he does underestimate Remus’ measurably longer legs which allow him to zoom past Sirius at the last second, landing them both short-of-breath on the doorstep of Teddy’s almost nauseatingly colourful classroom.
“Lanky prat,” Sirius says breathily, wiping the sweat from his brow with the hem of his t-shirt, exposing the jut of his hip to Remus (who was wholly unprepared for such a sighting, and immediately turns around and wills the blush rising on his cheeks to fade away), “Unfair advantage, I reckon, that you’re built like a bloody beanpole.”
Remus tuts, pushing open the heavy glass door, “I disagree. I think your tremendously massive ego is what weighs you down.”
Sirius smirks and raises one eyebrow, “And by massive ego, you mean?”
“Lupin and Black!” A voice shouts, thankfully distracting Remus from unpacking Sirius’ remark, “Been ages since I’ve seen the pair of you together!”
“Alright, Frankie?” Sirius says, beaming as he shook hands with Frank.
“Bloody knackered, I am,” Frank says, handing a sign-in clipboard to Remus, “These graduation ceremonies are just insane, I mean these kids barely know what day it is, and yet I have to put on all this fanfare for their snotty parents?”
Sirius snorts, and Remus tilts his head.
“Other than you, of course, Remus,” Frank says, his cheeks pinkening, “You’re a gem.”
Frank Longbottom had been a beloved side character to their university gang, back in the day. He was a few years ahead of them and was the beating heart of every party Remus attended while he was there. This, of course, made it extremely confounding to see Frank (who he’d seen strip down to his pants and perform a spirited lap dance on his now-wife, as accompanied by one of Beyonce’s raunchier chart toppers) regularly teaching a flock of angelic-looking toddlers about the colours of the rainbow, or the months of the year
Remus experiences the same disconcerting feeling about an hour later, when Frank flicks the tassel on an adorably small mortarboard hat resting on his son’s head. It’s a ridiculous thing, Remus is acutely aware, but there’s something tangibly bittersweet about it; like Remus is realising Teddy is about to start properly growing up, becoming his own proper little person. He starts tearing up, like the great galumphing sap fatherhood has turned him into, and Sirius places a gentle, comforting hand on his back while cheering and whooping as if Teddy had just completed his PhD.
Later, they have dinner at James and Lily’s, and Remus drinks one too many glasses of red wine, and Sirius has to drive, singing The Wiggles Greatest Hits along with Teddy the whole way home. It’s a terrifying blend of Remus’ reality and the fantasy he’s kept locked in the deepest archives in his mind since he was 18, which is nearly too much to bear. He supposes Sirius has always been, though. Far too much for Remus to bear, in the best way.
+ + +
“Fancy a smoke?” Sirius pokes his head out the glass doors, “Or I could make some tea?”
“A smoke sounds fantastic,” Remus turns around to face him, a small smile on his face.
Sirius had offered to put Teddy to bed. He’d gotten him into his pyjamas and helped him clean his teeth, and made sure he’d gone to the toilet, and read him a bedtime story, and lingered next to his bed to make sure he’d properly fallen asleep, and had even gone collected all of the stuffed toys that had been strewn across the floor and put them back in the basket in the corner of Teddy’s room. It was beautiful, and Teddy adores him, and the whole thing has sent Remus into something of a panic spiral.
So, naturally, he’s been on the balcony, his legs slotted through the gaps in the railings and his back flat against the brick floor for the last twenty minutes.
“You alright?” Sirius says, sitting himself down next to Remus and handing him the carton and his lighter.
“Yeah, fine,” Remus shrugs, lighting a cigarette and inhaling deeply, “I just get a bit blue, you know, whenever he has some sort of milestone.”
Sirius stares at him for a moment, “Because of Dora?”
Remus nods once, taking another drag to avoid having to elaborate further.
“You know you can talk to me about it, if you want.”
“I’m not sure I do, right now.”
“Okay, that’s alright too.” Sirius smiles at him, and Remus smiles back, almost involuntarily.
“Sometimes I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that he’s your kid,” Sirius says, earnestly, and Remus snorts, “I mean obviously, I know he is, but it’s not really something I think about until he does something so Remus-like that I remember he’s like, a proper part of you.”
A warm feeling grips Remus’ chest, “Things like what?”
Sirius grins, “Tonight, he was obviously really tired, and his eyes were struggling to stay open, and we were right in the middle of that new book Marlene got him, so I said we’ll have to finish it tomorrow night, right?”
Remus nods, sitting up and turning slightly to face Sirius.
“And he gave me a bit of stick but then he finally agreed he should go to sleep, but that I needed to make sure I remembered what page we were up to, which was the first thing,” Sirius is still grinning, and Remus is trying his hardest not to be distracted from the story, “And then, I went to dog ear the page, and I swear, he nearly flew two feet out of the bed in sheer horror.”
Remus bursts into laughter, smoke spilling out of his mouth as he does.
“He practically screeched at me Remus, about how there-“
“There’s no good reason for damaging a book.” Remus finishes, smiling.
Sirius’ grin somehow widens, “Exactly that. Word for word. Felt like I’d gone back in time, to when I borrowed one of your Austen novels for a class and you verbally assaulted me for at least half an hour because I bent the spine.”
“Yes, well, you needed a lesson on respecting other people’s property, so I stand by it.”
Sirius laughs, and playfully pushes Remus’ shoulder.
“I get what you mean, though,” Remus says, “I do the same thing with Harry. I mean, he’s like Lily in some ways, but God, he’s a mini bloody James.”
“I know, I know,” Sirius says, laughing as he takes another drag, “And the way they bicker with each other, my God. I mean, I know Harry’s only nine, but he’s got James’ confidence and Lily’s sharp wit.”
“James isn’t going to stand a chance when he hits his teenage years.” Remus says, and Sirius scoffs.
“Oh my god, imagine. The hair ruffling will be out of control.”
They both burst into laughter for a few moments, and then a strange, melancholy silence washes over them. They’ve somehow moved closer, too, Remus’ left hip only an inch or two away from Sirius’ right one, their hands dangerously close to resting on top of one another.
“I do wish she could see; you know.” Remus says, softly, as if he’s hoping Sirius won’t hear him.
Sirius says nothing, but Remus can tell he’s listening.
“I know we weren’t really together, when it happened, but sometimes I think maybe if we were, then, you know, things could’ve turned out differently.”
Sirius exhales, “You can’t let yourself think that, Remus, you’ll drive yourself crazy.”
“It’s not that simple, though.”
“I know,” Sirius says, firmly, “Believe me, I know.”
Remus looks at him, “Do you? You’ve, er, you’ve never really talked to me that much about Regulus.”
Sirius’ mouth twitches, “You’ve never talked much about Dora, either.”
The silence returns, and Remus feels a dampness building in his eyes that he attempts to cover with another drag of his cigarette.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get all angsty on you.” Sirius says.
“That’s okay, I opened the door for it,” Remus says, and Sirius lets out a wet laugh.
“You know, I don’t really believe in all the God stuff, but I do think, somehow, they can see,” Sirius says, wriggling a little closer to Remus, who has begun to cry, and places an arm around his shoulders, “That she can see how fucking phenomenal that kid you’ve raised is.”
Remus laughs, and the tears intensify, and he buries his head into Sirius’ chest before he has a moment to think about it. A few moments pass, and Sirius places a kiss on the top of Remus’ head that is so tender it makes him cry a little harder.
+ + +
In the week following Teddy’s pre-school graduation, Remus is able to think about nothing much other than Sirius. Sirius’ hands. Sirius’ laugh. The way Sirius sits on the kitchen counter while Remus cooks, and that if things were different, he’d be at the perfect height for Remus to lean over and…
It’s proving to be quite the disruption.
Of course, in the general circus that is Remus’ life, Teddy’s pre-school graduates two weeks before Remus can take time off work. It would have made perfect sense for Sirius to mind Teddy – he’s already staying in their house, he works from home, and he seems to genuinely enjoy spending time with Teddy (which is equally heart-warming and heartbreaking, for Remus). But, the thing is, Remus is hyper-aware of how much the lines are blurring, how easy its becoming for Remus to slip into his warped alternate universe, and while he could never kick Sirius out for the sake of giving himself a reality check, he could minimise opportunities for fantasising about the road not travelled.
So, Remus has been driving half an hour every morning before work to leave Teddy with his mother, and again to take him home in the evening.
He might be living in denial, but no one could say he isn’t committed to the role.
If it were socially acceptable, Remus would have remained in his childhood home with his mother until the day he died. As far as he’s concerned, there’s no greater sensation than the wave of warmth that washes over him as he enters the front door. A sense of unabated comfort that he’s never experienced from any other place, or relationship, or person. (Other than you know who, but The Denial is still in command, of course).
Hope Lupin is entirely unlike anyone Remus has ever encountered, which is precisely why she is his favourite person in the world. (Including you know who, and that’s not the denial talking). She’s unashamed, and irreverent, and unbearably kind, and creative, and wise, and gives advice of such accuracy that only Lily Evans herself has ever come close to recreating. She also has the unbelievably frustrating ability to read Remus like a book; an ability which no-one else has ever quite mastered.
“You look exhausted, cariad,” She says one evening, as she and Remus drink wine in the kitchen while Teddy watches some charming yet cringeworthy TV program in the next room, “Have you been sleeping?”
“I’ve been trying,” Remus sighs, “Sirius keeps odd hours. And Teddy has been a bit restless, you know, with the change of routine now that pre-school is over.”
Hope nods, sipping her wine. “How’s it been? You and Sirius in each other’s pockets again?” She raises an eyebrow in such a way that Remus knows she’s fully aware of his answer to that question.
Remus swallows, determined not to fuel her assumptions, “It’s been good, I think. Teddy bloody adores him. Reckon he’d trade me in for full-time Sirius if he had the chance.”
“I doubt that’s true,” Hope says, placing a gentle hand on Remus’ forearm, “That darling boy doesn’t stop talking about you from the moment he arrives here until the moment you come to fetch him.”
Remus smiles widely, and Hope winks.
“You should hear him,” she continues, “He’s all, ‘Mamgu, did you know Da can play guitar?’, and ‘Did you know Da reads books that are bigger than my whole head?’” Remus laughs, and Hope’s eyes sparkle with happiness.
“He drew a picture today, too,” Hope muses, as if the thought had only just popped into her head, “Took him a good few hours, as well, he was so focused, Teddy?” she calls out to the living room, “Come show Da your picture!”
“Coming Mamgu,” a small voice responds, and a series of excited footsteps follow.
She rustles about the kitchen for a few minutes, the room in its regular state of disarray that made it impossible for Hope to ever find anything she needed. After a while, she emerges from the pantry with a sheet of A3 paper, folded neatly into a small square in the way that Teddy always folds his drawings, exceedingly cautious about them being ripped or stained, a habit taken directly from his father.
The drawing is clearly a semblance of a family portrait, with Teddy in the middle, drawn with rollerblades on his feet and flaming blue hair (an idea planted in his head by Sirius that Remus has been desperately trying to disseminate for weeks), and two figures on either side of him. Teddy appears beside Remus, and Remus lifts him up to sit on the kitchen counter, so he can see the picture.
“See, this is you, Da,” Teddy points to the figure on the left of Teddy, who looks a little like Slenderman (which Remus tries not to take offense at), and is clutching a book that looks like an encyclopaedia, “And this is See-rus.” He points to the other figure, who Remus can now see is meant to be wearing a leather jacket, and there is a drawing next to him that looks like a fairly impressive motorcycle if Remus looks at it from the right direction.
“He wanted to draw Uncle James and Aunt Lily and Harry as well, but we thought we might do that tomorrow.” Hope says, softly, as Remus continues to stare at the picture in front of him.
“What’s this up here, baby?” Remus asks, pointing to a cluster of doodles that looked like clouds in the top corner of the page.
“That’s Mammy,” Teddy smiles, and Remus’ chest clenches, “You know how you always say that she’s watching, like a cloud in the sky? Do you like it, Da?”
Remus attempts a smile, his cheeks heavy, “It’s beautiful, baby, we should put it up at home, once you’ve finished it.”
“Do you think See-rus will like it, too?”
Remus looks over to Hope, who gives him a knowing smile.
“I’m sure he’ll love it, Teddy,” She says, her eyes moving up to meet Remus’, “He’ll absolutely love it.”
* * *
“If I could have one wish,” Mary says, slipping into the seat next to Remus, “It would be to have one day where I could just say whatever I want and face no consequences.”
Remus laughs into his coffee, “That is the dream.”
“Right? And then I could tell Gilderoy Lockhart,” she emphasises the name with her poshest accent, “The next time he signs me up for chaperoning Friday detentions with him I will devise a 30-point-plan that will end with him naked and crying in an abandoned warehouse.”
Remus scoffs, happening to look over just as Lockhart is giving Mary a grotesque smile and wave, obviously intending to be flirtatious. Mary fakes a belch in response.
“God, that’s enough to put me off men for life.” She shudders, and Remus laughs.
Mary and Remus have been teaching together since they finished university, barely having spent more than two days apart since they were 18. Their friendship is something of a bewilderment to many of the students, Remus thought; Mary is energetic, and bold, and unorthodox in her methods, and every student that has ever taken drama has positively raved about her. Remus, on the other hand, while receiving just as much praise from students as Mary, is much more reserved, and by-the-book, but has passion and enthusiasm for his subject practically dripping from his fingertips.
“Speaking of men,” Mary says, raising a suspicious eyebrow, “You shagged Black yet?”
Remus splutters, “Jesus, Mary!”
“What?” Mary says, an expression of mock-surprise on her face, “It’s all anyone’s been talking about.”
“You mean it’s all you, Marls, and James have been gossiping about on your morning walks.”
“And?” Mary says, “As if anyone else’s opinion matters.”
Remus laughs through his nose, “My God, introducing all of you was the worst mistake of my life.”
Mary flips him off.
“And no, I have not, and will not be shagging Sirius,” Remus says, and Mary rolls her eyes in response, “He’s my best friend.”
Remus tries his best to sound more resolute than he feels, about the whole Sirius/Best Friend/Shagging/Forehead Kiss/Family Portrait/God I Want To Snog Him Scenario. He’s been entirely unable to think of anything else for the past three days (weeks), of course, but he wouldn’t dare let Mary get wind of that, she’d never let him live it down.
“Ah, yes, the ‘I’d never go there, he’s my best friend’ diatribe,” Mary muses, looking off into the distance, “I’m afraid we’ve been here before, my old pal, say New Year’s Eve-Eve 2014?”
“You swore I’d never have to discuss that, Mary.” Remus spits, and Mary purses her lips.
“I’m just teasing you, Lupin, no need to get your knickers in a twist.”
“Wanker.”
“You love me, really,” She says, smiling sweetly and offering him the last Jaffa Cake.
“Unfortunately,” Remus grumbles, and Mary’s smile grows, “Mam’s got her art class tonight, so I’ve got to leave early to pick up Ted, could you make sure my office is locked before you leave?”
Mary’s eyebrows furrow, and Remus cocks his head, “Remus, it’s interviews tonight, remember? We’ve got to stay back.”
“Oh, buggering fuck,” Remus breaths, and Mrs. Pince (the librarian, who goes through life as though she’s never experienced joy) gives him a stricken look, and he grimaces, while Mary rolls her eyes, “I totally forgot about interviews. My mind’s a fucking empty carpark these days, nothing but bloody tumbleweeds going through there, I’m telling you.”
“Can you find someone else to mind Teddy?” Mary asks.
“Hopefully,” Remus says, smiling tightly even though he knows James and Lily are going to visit Effie and Fleamont for the evening, and Marlene has firmly set a boundary that she and Dorcas will only babysit Teddy in daylight, “Otherwise I’m sure he’ll brighten up parent-teacher conferences with a fart joke and a new swear word Sirius has taught him.”
“Oh, Remus, you think I’d believe anyone but you would teach your delightful son such loutish language,” Mary says, and Remus tuts, “Surely Sirius can mind him, hm? He’ll be at home, anyway, won’t he?”
Remus takes a short breath. It would make the most sense, truly, and Sirius would love any excuse to see Hope, who does nothing but dote on him. But still, Remus is hyper-aware of The Pesky Feelings, and The Blurred Line, and all of the other messy scribbles in his mind, all pointing toward Sirius. But, selfish as it may be, the thought of coming home after a laborious evening of politely taking criticism from snobbish parents (who have no understanding of their own children’s abhorrent behaviour, or the profession of teaching) to Sirius and Teddy having fallen asleep in front of the television is enough to make Remus’ fragile little heart flutter in his chest.
“Maybe.” Remus says, smiling.
* * *
In the end, Sirius is ecstatic to have the evening with Teddy. When Remus calls him, he reacts as though Remus is beyond ridiculous for ever having thought that Sirius might even consider saying ‘no’ to him. He even promises not to attempt to pick Teddy up from Hope’s on his motorcycle, and offers to go to his storage garage and dust off his car, which he hasn’t driven in years, without Remus even asking him too. It’s infuriating, really. It’s entrancing.
Though, the real problem begins when Remus arrives home. Parent-Teacher conference were, as usual, soul-sucking, even with Mary’s table right by his, so they could pass scathing notes between interviews. By the end of it, Remus’ back is aching, and his eczema has been flaring up all week, and he’s hoping to God that Teddy is already asleep, and Sirius is in the spare room doing whatever he does in the wee hours of the night, and Remus can pour himself a comically large glass of cheap wine and then treat himself to a leisurely wank.
But, as for a reason unknown to him, God seems to have it out for Remus.
For when Remus gets home, Sirius opens the door, and his shirt is off, and he has washing-up gloves on and the lighting is just so, and his tattoos are there, and he looks so comfortable in Remus’ doorway that Remus wants to cry.
“Mr. Lupin!” Sirius greets him, smiling wide, “You’ve returned at last.”
“I have,” Remus says, squeezing past Shirtless Sirius to get himself inside, afraid that if even the slightest morsel of Remus’ body touches Sirius, The Denial will crumble instantly, “How’s he been?”
“An angel, as always,” Sirius waggles his eyebrows, “We made pasta for dinner, and he got a bit excited about the sauce, which is why I’ve had a wardrobe malfunction, in case you thought I’d just decided to slut about the place for the evening.”
Remus lets out a small laugh that sounds forced and thorny, and Sirius gives him a strange look.
“And he’s asleep now?” Remus says, brushing over the strange awkward thickness that hangs in the air.
“Yep, we played Twister for about an hour, totally tuckered him out, and now he’s out like a light,” Sirius says, smiling and gliding past Remus back into the kitchen to continue washing dishes, “Didn’t even ask for a dramatic reading tonight, just hit the pillow and clocked out.”
Remus makes a small noise of contentment, and Sirius gives him the look again.
“Oh, I also put a load of washing on.” Sirius says, nonchalant as he rinses the soap suds off of Remus’ pasta pot.
“You what?” Remus asks, his heart rate quickening.
Sirius turns to face him, brows furrowed, and nose scrunched, “Er, when I put my pasta sauce-stained shirt in the wash, I saw the hamper was full, so I just chucked a load on,” His voice trails off slightly, and Remus pinches the bridge of his nose, and Sirius takes a step closer, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to- Is there a particular way you wash clothes, or something? You look as though you might thump me.”
Remus fights the urge to laugh.
“Are you alright, Re?” His voice is soft, and gentle, and Remus almost does want to hit him, but more alarmingly he doesn’t want to at all, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“No, no, you didn’t,” Remus stutters, swallowing, “It’s just, I, I can’t-“
“Am I overstepping, Remus?” Sirius asks, taking a few steps closer to Remus.
Remus’ heart rate quickens again, and the tension bubbles to the surface, and he takes at least three large steps back, away from Sirius, and his shirtless body, and his tattoos, and his perfect hair, and his concerned face.
“No, fuck,” Remus shakes his head, and the words start spilling out of his mouth, unretractable in the air between them, “Yes, you know what, you are. It’s too fucking much, Sirius, you’re here, and Teddy loves you so much, and that was already so much, and then you’re cleaning my fucking dishes, and doing my bloody laundry, and greeting me at the door with your-“ He hears Sirius take a breath, so he stops himself before opening that box.
“It’s just,” Remus calms himself, slightly, and his voice goes back to its regular volume, “Everything is just, so much, you’re so much. But then you’re not enough.”
Sirius is quiet for a few moments, catching his breath, and letting Remus do the same.
“Right,” he says, taking the gloves off and placing them on the counter, “I’m sorry, Remus, I didn’t mean to overwhelm you.”
Remus swallows, and even though his outburst relieved some of the pressure, it’s also added a whole new layer of it.
“I think I’d better go, for the night, at least,” He continues, and Remus wants to grab at him, to hold him close and apologise and beg him not to go, like a child, “I’ve got my spare key for Jamie’s, I’m sure they’ll be back soon anyway.”
“You don’t have to, Sirius, I just-“ Remus says, quietly, but Sirius shakes his head.
“It’s fine, Remus, we’ve been in each other’s space for over a month, one of us was bound to snap. I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner, really.” He laughs softly, but it sounds more sad than cheerful.
“I didn’t mean to snap at you.” Remus says, and he sounds utterly pathetic, but Sirius just smiles.
“I know, Re.” He places a hand on Remus’ shoulder and gives it a light squeeze before walking past him to get to the spare room.
Within ten minutes, he’s put a fresh shirt on, and packed some of his stuff into a canvas tote bag that Teddy had accidentally spilled PVA glue all over, and is out the door. Remus’ reaction the sound of his car starting in the drive is guttural, and ridiculous, and he takes a moment to collect himself before taking off his jacket and continuing with the washing up.
Remus has about five minutes to himself, wallowing in his self-inflicted woe, before a small voice is calling out into the hall, and Remus walks toward Teddy’s room without really even being conscious of where he’s going.
“Daddy?” Teddy says, half-asleep as Remus enters the room, “Are you home?”
“Yes, baby, I’m here,” Remus whispers, standing in the doorway, “Is everything alright?”
“My night light’s gone out.” Teddy says, and Remus can hear the panic starting in his voice.
“Just now, or has it not worked all night?” Remus asks, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible.
“Just now, it woke me up,” Teddy says, starting to speak more quickly, and beginning to fidget in his bed, “I can’t sleep without it, Da, it’s too dark.”
“I know, baby, it’s alright,” He leans down to sit beside Teddy’s bed, “Can I give you a cuddle?”
“Yes, please.”
Remus leans over the bed, and Teddy latches onto him, his arms locking around Remus’ neck, and Remus lifts him out the bed, holding him close against his chest and gently drawing patterns on his back. He leans down to pick the dinosaur-shaped nightlight off of Teddy’s dresser, and Teddy clings to him tightly.
“I think the batteries have gone out, Ted,” Remus says softly, and Teddy buries his head in the crook of Remus’ neck, “I’ll have to have a look around if we’ve got any spare ones, do you want to open it up for me and see what type of batteries it needs?”
Teddy nods slowly against Remus’ neck, and Remus carries him back out into the living room, placing him down on the sofa, and making sure the lights aren’t too bright so that once the nightlight is fixed he’ll still be able to get back to sleep.
Remus is trying his best to remain calm, because Teddy is nearing on the edge of a meltdown, but he has a sinking, rotten feeling that the blasted nightlight will need one of those huge batteries that no-one ever has, and Remus can’t get in the car to go and buy one, because it’ll be too much for Teddy, and anywhere that’s open won’t have them, and he doesn’t have anyone here that can go and get one for him, because he’d gone and opened his stupid fucking mouth and let the feelings fall out, and Sirius is probably halfway home right now.
He's probably halfway home.
Remus scrambles for his phone, and he can see that Teddy is starting to get restless on the sofa, “Remus?” Sirius’ voice is gravelly and a little fuzzy, so Remus knows he’s still in the car, “Is everything alright?”
“Sirius, I’m sorry I was a twat, and I didn’t mean to kick you out, and I don’t want you to think I’m just using you, or whatever, but-“
“What is it, Remus?”
“I just- I, I need-“, Remus’ lungs are working too fast, and his heartbeat is irregular.
“Take a deep breath, Re,” Sirius says, his voice losing all hostility instantly, “You don’t have to rush, I’m right here.”
Remus breathes in deeply and holds it at the top for a few seconds, and he can hear through the phone that Sirius is doing the same.
“The battery in Teddy’s nightlight is flat, and I don’t have any spares, and he won’t sleep without it, so if-“
“What type of battery do you need?”
Remus exhales, “What type of battery did it say, baby?” he calls out to Teddy.
“A ‘D’ one,” he calls back, and he’s yawning, and Remus’ heart clenches again.
“Alright, I’m pulling up to a petrol station right now, if they don’t have them I’ll nick Harry’s nightlight and bring it over, he’s old enough to sleep without it anyway.”
“Sirius, you don’t have to-“
“I’ll be there in 10, maybe 15,” Sirius says, and Remus’ heart seems to relax, for the most part, “I’d do anything for him, you know that, Remus.” He’s silent for a few moments, and Remus thinks he’s hung up, “Anything for you.”
He says the last part quietly, as if on accident, and then the call cuts out, and Remus is motionless but brimming with adrenaline.
* * *
Sirius, by some sort of miracle, is at Remus’ door brandishing a 12-pack of batteries and a new carton of cigarettes within approximately seven minutes. The thickness in the air from Remus’ outburst hasn’t yet dissipated, but he’s so beyond relieved to see Sirius that he’s able to ignore it.
“Delivery for a young Tedster,” He says as he walks into Remus’ living room, and a tired but elated smile spreads onto Teddy’s face and he scrambles over to hug Sirius tightly around the legs, “Now, where’s the Dino?”
Remus, for reasons unbeknownst to him, is silent and motionless, watching as Sirius cuts open the packet of batteries and teaches Teddy about magnetic poles so he knows how to put them in properly by himself, all the while sitting at the kitchen bench and smiling as if the last half hour had never occurred. Then, the batteries are in, and the soft blue light is restored, and Teddy is tugging on Sirius’ arm to tuck him into bed and read him another page of ‘Their Book’ (which is enough to send Remus into minor cardiac arrest), because, according to Teddy, Sirius is the greatest voice actor of all time. (Sirius has previously attributed this to his ability to revert to his childhood impersonations of his mother and father to mimic any character with even slightly nefarious tendencies).
“I think I’ll head off, then,” Sirius says, a few minutes later, and Remus is still sat frozen on the couch, dazed, “You alright?”
“Yeah,” Remus looks up at him, and clears his throat before standing up far too abruptly and getting a horrible rush to his head, “Yeah, sorry, thank you, for coming back, he just- he won’t sleep without the light, and he wouldn’t have been able to settle if I’d have taken him to go buy them, because you know, his routine, and-“
“Remus, it’s fine, I was happy to.” Sirius says, smiling.
“I just- I hate to put you out of your way,” Remus continues, and Sirius is shaking his head, but Remus ignores him, “I don’t want to be relying on you all the time, it’s- it’s just not fair to you, and I’m sorry.”
Sirius is quiet, and his brows knit together, and he’s giving Remus a look of genuine concern that’s almost frightening in its intensity.
“I don’t know where you got the idea in your head, Remus, that you’re some type of burden to me,” He says, and he’s so earnest that Remus has to fight the urge to burst out laughing out of sheer shock (and to distract from the heat rising in his cheeks), “You’re one of the most observant, and intelligent people I know, and yet sometimes you can be so bloody dense.”
Remus tilts his head, and Sirius smiles softly.
“I mean, surely, you have to notice how much I- how much I want to do things for you, how much I want to be here with you, and with Teddy,” He continues, and a lump begins to form in Remus’ throat, “You have to notice that I don’t do- I don’t want to do those things for anyone else, I mean if James asked me to do anything for him in the wee hours of the night, you know I’d tell him to piss off.”
Remus goes to interrupt, but Sirius soldiers on, “And that’s not to say I don’t love him, and Lily, and Harry, and everyone else, but it’s- It’s different, with you. You have to notice that. It’s always been different with you.”
A grim, static sort of silence washes over them, and Sirius is looking right at Remus, and if he had one ounce of James’ recklessness, or Lily’s conviction, or Mary’s tenacity, Remus would reach out, and grab Sirius by the jaw, and kiss him hard, and the tension would finally break.
But alas, he cannot be anything more than just Remus. Anxious, hesitant, taciturn, desperately in love Remus.
So he is unmoving, and Sirius is back on his doorstep, and he gives Remus a tight, pained sort of smile that is far from comforting, and he turns on his heel and walks down the drive, into the soft glow of the streetlights.
* * *
“He really said all of that?” Lily says, taking a drag of Remus’ cigarette.
“Yep,” Remus says, taking it back, “And I just stood there, dumb as a rock.”
Marlene snorts, and Remus elbows her in the ribs. James is inside, cooking up a storm, as usual, and Dorcas is shrewdly observing and asking astute questions about his mother’s recipes, and Teddy and Harry are watching cartoons in the living room. Remus, in tune with his inner high school self, has taken Lily and Marlene to the balcony off of Harry’s bedroom to chain smoke and gossip about his horrifically agonising love life.
“I mean, it wasn’t really a confession, was it?” Remus says, and Lily raises her eyebrows at Marlene, “Like, he didn’t really say anything.”
Marlene scoffs, “Come on, Remus, it’s about as close as you could get to him jumping in your lap and saying, ‘love me, Remus, love me’.”
“Oh, don’t say that to me,” Remus leans back, and hits the brick harder than he’d meant to, and Lily tuts and gently rubs the back of his head, “It was so all of a sudden, I don’t know if he even really knew what he was saying.”
“Remus, darling, I love you dearly, but you may indeed be dumb as a rock,” Lily says, though the sting of her words is diluted by the fact that she’s still soothingly petting Remus’ head, “He’s been tied up in knots over you for as long as I’ve known him.”
Remus gawks, and Marlene takes the lead.
“It’s true, Lupin, remember back when you first started teaching and he used to come to your classroom with you on weekends and help hang up all your posters?”
“Well, yeah.”
“That wasn’t just because he fancies himself quite handy with a laminator.” Marlene says, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “Also I, personally, and I’m sure most of your companions would agree, would not have volunteered to post-Dora breakup binge-watch Antiques Roadshow with you for multiple days purely on the basis of my appreciation of your platonic impact on my life.”
“And when he drove from bar to bar across London that night after Dora’s anniversary because you’d blacked out and didn’t know where you were?” Lily continues, and Remus gently nods, “He didn’t do that just out of sympathy.”
Remus’ head is swimming, and partly he feels angry that no-one had alerted him to the fact that his best friend had supposedly been in love with him for the better part of a decade, but mostly he feels monumentally stupid for not having connected the dots himself.
“Are you sure?” Remus asks, and his voice is pathetically shaky.
Marlene nods, and Lily grips his shoulder, “Couldn’t be surer. I think he’s wanted to tell you for a while, but he didn’t want to overwhelm you.”
Remus sighs, “I wouldn’t have minded. I quite like being overwhelmed by him.”
The girls both smile, and Remus is comforted by their understanding and appreciative of their lack of dramatics, but, in all honesty, he feels no less stunted than he had when Sirius had first let his feelings take the wheel of their carefully crafted friendship.
“I mean, this isn’t the first time this has happened, right?” Marlene asks, after a few moments of quiet, and Remus flicks his head towards her.
“What?” Lily says, coughing out quite an impressive amount of smoke.
“Marlene, let’s not divulge this right now, please, I’m already in a state of emotional disarray.”
“You really didn’t know, Evans?” Marlene steamrolls, completely ignoring Remus’ objections, as she so often does, “Well, Mary told James and I in our morning walking group that there was an incident on New Year’s Eve-Eve 2014, when Remus nearly-“
“Christ!” Remus exclaims, “Is the sole purpose of that bloody walking group just for you three clowns to psychoanalyse my love life?”
“Of course not, don’t be so self-centred,” Marlene smirks, “We also psychoanalyse your wardrobe choices.”
“Dickhead,” Remus mumbles, and Marlene smiles sweetly and pets Remus on the cheek, to which he responds by flipping her the bird.
“Anyway, possible New Year’s Eve-Eve trysts aside, do you know what you’re going to do about Sirius’ revelation?” Lily asks, finally having emerged from the smoky haze around her.
Remus sighs, and leans his head back against the bricks (more gently, this time), “Honestly, no. I wish it was simple enough for me to just go off and grab him and snog him until we die, but it’s just not, anymore.”
Marlene hums in agreement, “Being an adult is absolute piss.”
“Hear, hear.” Lily says, and they clumsily clink together their half-drunk glasses of wine.
“He should be here soon, though, right?” Remus asks, trying, pointlessly, not to sound too anxious, “Hasn’t he been staying here the last few days?”
Lily’s face scrunches up for a moment, and then it relaxes into an odd sort of confused-yet-amused expression, “No, he’s been at his flat.”
Remus blinks.
“I thought he’d told you,” Lily continues, and there’s a sparkle in her eyes that is a little menacing, “It’s been liveable for about a month.”
Remus blinks some more.
“He wasn’t going to come tonight because I think he feels a bit awkward, so he’s there right now.”
A few more blinks, for good measure, and then Remus is on his feet.
“That little prick,” He says, and Marlene coughs into her wine, “Do you mind watching Teddy for the night?”
Lily smiles, “I already set up the blow-up mattress with the cowboy sheets in Harry’s room.”
“God, I love you,” Remus says, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her head, “Marlene, you’re a peach as well.”
Marlene snorts, and then Remus is jetting off through the house, not entirely in control of his own body, feeling almost as if he’s floating just outside of it, watching on in a daze.
“I’m off, Jamie,” He yells as he’s scrambling down the stairs, ordering an Uber as he scurries, “Wish me luck!”
“Best of luck, my dear,” James calls after him, “Say Hi to Sirius for me!”
* * *
Due to his frankly severe Sirius-related separation anxiety, James had bought a house a mere few blocks away from Sirius’ building, so Remus’ adrenaline rush is still in gear when he arrives at Sirius’ door. His chest is heaving and he’s sure his body odour is erring on the side of unpleasant, but there’s still a gentle amount of wine in his bloodstream and courage in his bones. Sirius had buzzed him up, of course, so he can’t have been all that surprised that Remus had arrived, yet when he opens the door, he had this look of utter disbelief on his face that Remus almost has to laugh at.
“Aren’t you meant to be at Jamie’s?” He asks.
“Aren’t you?” Remus strides into the flat, which is totally re-furnished and almost entirely returned to the state of pure Sirius-ness it was in before he’d moved out.
“Well, you know, the flat was here, so.” Sirius is quiet, and unsure, and it’s a little unnerving, but Remus refuses to let his nerves get the better of him.
“For a while, apparently,” Remus says, turning to face Sirius, who’s cracking his knuckles by his sides in the way that he does whenever Remus accuses him of hiding his lighter in unusual places, “But you weren’t here.”
“No,” Sirius says, and it’s clear that he’s trying to figure out the intentions of Remus’ visit as he’s talking, “I was- I just liked being with- being with you and Teddy.”
Remus nods, “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Well, I assumed you knew, I mean I wouldn’t spend so much time with Teddy if I didn’t-“
“No, about me.” Remus interrupts, shaking off the hardness in his voice, and Sirius swallows, “Why didn’t you say anything about how you felt about me?”
Sirius scratches at the back of his head, “I don’t know, I guess the timing was just always a bit crap.” He moves to sit down on the couch, and Remus sits beside him, at a safe but close distance.
“I don’t mean to tell you off,” Remus says, softly, “I never said anything either.”
Sirius turns toward him, and a slow, dopey sort of smile creeps onto his face, “To be fair, you nearly did, that New Year’s-“
“Oh, God, if one more person brings that night up, I’m going to commit identity fraud and find myself a new life and new friends that don’t take any opportunity to humiliate me.”
Sirius laughs through his nose.
“Sorry,” Remus says, smiling, “I just, I want you to know, even if I’m utter shite at telling anyone how I feel, there’s no-one that I’ve ever wanted to tell more than I wanted to tell you.”
Sirius’ eyes are getting damp, and Remus’ resolve is starting to weaken.
“I just- you’re- you’re everything to me, always have been, and the thought of losing you is so nauseatingly terrifying that I think I’ve never allowed myself to even dream about doing anything that might jeopardise what we have now, as cliché and garbage as that sounds.”
“No, I-“ Sirius says, wetly, “I understand.”
“I’m just an absolute tosser, I reckon, but I’m even worse when you’re not around,” Remus says, and he bravely rests a hand on Sirius’ jogger-clad knee, “Having you down the hall for the last few months has made me happier than I even was aware of, and now that you’re gone, it’s like- I feel like Teddy without his bloody nightlight.”
“Remus, you big sap,” Sirius says, laughing heartily, “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said, I think, other than that time you told me I dress like a sexually liberated Joey Tribbiani.”
Remus punches him in the knee, and then he turns to face Sirius, who’s looking at him with that same dopey smile, the one that he usually gets when he’s had one too many glasses of red wine, or one of Marlene’s “Funky” Brownies, and Remus, for the first time, really gets to marinate in the fact that he’s the one that put that smile on Sirius’ face. And then his hand is cupping Sirius’ jaw, and then they’re kissing, and it’s as if the tectonic plates beneath them had been eternally fragmented and were finally slotting back into place, and they were standing on solid ground. Sirius’ mouth is on his, and Sirius’ hands are in his hair, and Sirius hips are clashing against his, and later, their bodies are intertwined and naked in Sirius’ bedroom, and Remus feels more at home than he ever did before.
* * *
The months following are, quite sickeningly, filled with domestic bliss. Sirius eventually decides to rent out his no-longer-mouldy bachelor pad to one of James’ hairdressing clients, after much of Remus’ (pointless) insistence that he didn’t need to rush to move in, even though it was clear that Sirius wanted nothing more than to spend every waking moment with Remus, and with Teddy also. Remus had expected the transition to be much less smooth than it had been, especially with Teddy, but Sirius had slotted himself right into his new place in Remus’ life so neatly that it was almost frightening. Within a month, he was unpacking his boxes, and Remus was making room for his leather jackets in his bedroom closet, and they’re going for walks with Teddy every night after dinner, and Remus honestly thinks if he were anymore content he’d be floating on a bloody cloud.
“So, what room are you in, See-rus?” Teddy asks, perched happily on Remus’ shoulders as they walk through the park by their house one night after a deliciously carby pasta bake.
Sirius looks at Remus, and he smiles, giving him a subtle wink, “Oh, well, I’ll be staying in your Dad’s room with him, if that’s alright with you?”
Teddy seems to ponder this for a few minutes, and Remus gives his calf a gentle squeeze, “I think that’s alright, as long as you cuddle. Da likes his cuddles.”
“Alright, Ted, I’ll make sure to cuddle him good and proper,” Sirius laughs, reaching up to shake Teddy’s hand, making him join in on the laughter, “Forever, if he’ll let me.” He continues, quieter, just for Remus.
Remus smiles, and stops to lean over and place a chaste kiss on Sirius’ lips, and the soft glow of the streetlights illuminate them, a perfect evening, a perfect nightlight.