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Remus Lupin was, habitually, an early riser.
This was due largely to the moon, which regularly disturbed Remus’s sleep patterns with its monthly cycle.
Two weeks leading up to the full had Remus bursting with energy and strength; his spells were stronger (occasionally to his own detriment), and that perpetual ache in his joints subsided.
One week to the full, and Remus was positively miserable. His entire body was a patchwork of creaking bone and throbbing sinew, and his temper had a hair-fire trigger; even Marlene McKinnon, who had once stopped a rogue bludger with her bare hands, was known to scatter in the face of a grumpy Remus Lupin.
It was for this reason, perhaps, that Remus woke up late on the morning of his seventeenth birthday. The moon was only three days away, and he’d spent the night prior pacing the length of the empty Gryffindor common room, taking pulls from a spliff in-between increasingly futile attempts to sleep.
He must’ve dozed off eventually, because he awoke to a bustle of activity: the familiar catastrophe of a Friday morning in Gryffindor tower.
As he struggled to sit up, a second year carrying a stack of books tripped over his ankle and sprawled to the floor with a startled yelp.
“Amelia!” Frank Longbottom scolded, stomping over, a shiny prefect badge shining at his breast, “Watch where you’re going! How many times have I – Hiya, Remus! Happy Birthday!”
Remus groaned and scrubbed his fist across his eyes, burying his head in his hands.
Frank chuckled as he stooped to collect the pile of books. “That kind of morning, huh?”
“Where are the others?” Remus asked, getting to his feet. Pain radiated up his back and down his left arm, exacerbated by his night spent on the couch.
“Gone up to breakfast,” Frank replied, now shooing Amelia and her stack of textbooks through the portrait hole. “Said they wanted to give you a bit of a lie-in.”
Remus grunted in acknowledgement and rubbed gingerly at his neck with one hand, fishing a cigarette from his pocket with the other. “‘Suppose I better get dressed and join them.”
“Yeah, tell ‘em hello for me,” Frank called distractedly, now eyeing a pair of third years playing catch across the common room with a sneakoscope. “And no smoking in your dorm!”
“It’s my birthday!” Remus reminded him, and could’ve sworn he heard Frank snort with amusement as he clambered upstairs.
By the time Remus managed to throw on his uniform, brush his teeth and make his way down to the Great Hall, it was almost empty save for a few harried-looking NEWT students bent over thick textbooks, and a handful of fourth-year Hufflepuffs attempting to talk Professor Flitwick out of a week’s detention.
But at the end of the Gryffindor table, a raucous group of seven years were brandishing slices of toast and jostling each other about with an energy Remus could scarcely fathom. As he approached, they all whirled around in their seats and grinned at him, chanting, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY REMUS!” so loudly it drew every gaze in the Great Hall.
Remus winced and settled in his usual place between Sirius and Marlene. “Keep it down, you tossers,” he grumbled, kneading a fist against his forehead. “It’s still bloody early.”
“Ah, how the tables have swerved,” James remarked, smirking. “Usually it’s Padfoot grumbling through breakfast.”
“It’s turned, James,” Lily sighed, at the same time that Sirius barked, “Oi, up yours, Potter!”
“Are you looking forward to your party, Remus?” Mary asked earnestly.
“Bound to be a good one, eh, Moony?” Sirius added, sliding Remus a plate of buttered toast. “Got the Firewhiskey sorted and everything.”
“I can’t hear this,” Lily declared, covering her ears with her palms. The light bounced off her head girl badge, which had been transfigured from silver to iron long ago. “I don’t know how you got it, and I don’t care to know.”
“Oh, calm down, Lils,” Marlene teased, poking out her tongue. “James is head boy, and you don’t see him acting all squeamish.”
“Actually,” Sirius began, an unmistakable hint of mischief in his voice, “it was James who – ”
“Nope,” Lily announced, jumping to her feet, “nope, nope, I’m leaving.” She pressed a kiss to James’s cheek, then squeezed Remus’s shoulder as she passed. “Happy birthday, Remus. See you in Arithmancy.”
James watched her go with a dreamy smile, only straightening up when Sirius kicked him beneath the table.
"Mate," Sirius sighed, shaking his head with a mournful expression, "you are so unbelievably gone for her."
James grinned to himself as he spooned a second of baked beans onto his plate, seemingly unbothered by Sirius' teasing. "Too right."
"Ugh, I can't even make fun of you," Sirius complained, leaning back against Remus' shoulder with a hand to his forehead. "Your love is too pure, too...good." He scrunched up his nose, shuddering in faux disgust.
"Come now, Black," Marlene drawled, arching a blonde brow. "just because you're with a new person each month, doesn't mean you have to begrudge Potter his devotion."
"Oi," Sirius protested, though there was no anger to it, "I'll have you know I've been a perfect saint this term - haven't gotten with a single bird since Christmas."
Remus' stomach flipped at the reminder. It was the longest Sirius had been single since fourth year, and there was a part of him that couldn't help but to wonder, to hope...
"I'm half convinced he's got a secret lover," Dorcas giggled, smothering it into her palm.
"Ew, don't say lover, please," Sirius insisted, lifting his chin haughtily. "You make it sound so..."
"Girly?" Marlene offered.
"Shakespearean," Sirius supplied, shooting Remus a smug grin. He'd read Macbeth last year at Remus' insistence, and never wasted an opportunity to remind Remus of this fact. It was, unfortunately, disgustingly endearing. "There's nothing tragic about dating me."
"Others may beg to differ," Marlene sang, twisting a blonde curl around her index finger.
“Remus!" Peter blurted out suddenly, as though physically unable to contain the words, “we got you a present! It's really cool, you’re going to love – ”
He cut off when Sirius shot him a vicious glare.
"Merlin, Pete," Sirius hissed, a vicious note in his voice, "can't you keep your mouth shut for once?"
Peter ducked his head, flushing a deep pink and muttering apologies.
“Don’t mind Wormtail,” James said breezily, leaning back in his seat with his arms behind his head, “he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
“I’ll pretend I believe you,” Remus remarked dryly, finishing his last slice of toast.
“Whelp, I better get to class, too,” Marlene sighed, sounding less than enthusiastic. She climbed to her feet and offered a hand to Dorcas, who’d been sitting beside her. “Walk me, my love?”
“We’re in the same class,” Dorcas snorted, amused, but she took her girlfriend’s hand anyway and followed her from the Great Hall.
“Ah, young love,” Mary mused, brows scrunched in mock sorrow. “If only I weren’t so incurably single.”
“Didn’t Lily catch you snogging Caradoc Dearborn last night?” Remus prompted, quirking a brow.
Mary smirked and tossed a handful of curls over her shoulder. “Yes, but it’s nothing official.”
“Slag,” Sirius teased, grinning good-naturedly.
“Like you can talk,” Mary shot back, also grinning. “Later, boys.”
As she got to her feet and exited the hall, a sudden hush fell over the table.
And then, as though he’d been waiting on pins and needles, Sirius practically launched himself onto Remus, face crinkled with concern as he laid the back of his hand against Remus’s forehead. “How are you feeling, Moony? Should you be going to class today?”
“I’m fine, Pads, really,” Remus insisted, waving him off as a fierce blush spread across his face. “Just a bit of a headache, sore muscles – the usual stuff.”
“We can postpone the party,” James offered, looking equally as worried. “I’m sure, with the full so close, you don’t feel much up to celebrating tonight.”
Peter was wearing a disappointed expression, but when he caught Remus’s eye, he quickly nodded his agreement.
“No, that’s okay,” Remus replied, forcing a weak smile. “Honestly, it’ll be a good distraction.”
James and Sirius exchanged a hesitant glance.
“Alright then,” Sirius said slowly, “but if you start to feel even slightly unwell – ”
“I’ll let you know,” Remus promised, biting his cheek to fight off a grin. Sometimes the concern could get a touch irritating, but Remus was so goddamned grateful for his friends. “C’mon, you lot, McGonagall’s gonna have a conniption.”
“Not if she thinks we’ve been helping you, Moony,” Peter pointed out as they exited the Great Hall. “She loves you.”
“It’s true,” Sirius sang, winding his arm through Remus’s so that he could hang dramatically off his shoulder, “Moony gets alllll the girls.”
“That’s not even a little bit true,” Remus muttered, rolling his eyes to distract from the blush he could feel climbing up his neck. “And get off me, you wanker, you’re going to make me trip.”
“Aw, you’re so mean,” Sirius pouted, eyes wide as he released Remus’s arm. It was both a relief and a misery. “I’m gonna talk to James, he loves me.”
But that’s the problem, Remus thought morosely, chest tightening as he watched Sirius fall into step beside James. I do.
Truthfully, he had an ulterior motive for refusing to postpone the party.
Tonight. The resolve was like a physical thing, sitting heavily against Remus’s lungs, shortening his every breath. Tonight, I’ll finally tell Sirius…
And then I can move on.
-
Remus wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened.
It’d seemed to sneak up on him, like one of those slow-acting curses Snape was so fond of. At first, you thought you’d gotten off easy – that he’d missed or the spell he’d hit you with was a dud. Then, a few hours later, you were sitting in Transfiguration sprouting nasty, pus-spewing boils and cursing Snape’s name.
His feelings for Sirius were like that.
Every time Remus thought he’d gotten over him, that he’d come to his senses and finally moved on, he was proven horribly, painfully wrong.
Every little thing Sirius did drove him mad: the way he looked right out of the shower, droplets glistening like diamonds across his alabaster skin; the way he ran his hands through his hair, ebony tresses sifting through his fingers like silken night; that joyous barking laugh; that devil-may-care smile.
All of it set his heart thumping and his knees trembling, rendering him a pathetic, incoherent mess.
Unfortunately, the facts of the matter were this:
a) Sirius Black was not bent, and b) even if he was, Remus Lupin was the last person on the planet he’d want to snog.
As such, Remus had tried everything to get over his feelings; he’d given himself about a million stern lectures, had snogged a few of the muggle boys around his village back home, had made himself watch as Sirius flirted with a different girl every week – but apparently Remus was a bigger masochist than he’d given himself credit for.
Hence, the party.
It was the perfect opportunity. Remus would get roaringly drunk, corner Sirius before he could make off with some bird, and inform him of the feelings he’d been harbouring since fourth year.
That way Sirius could reject him, Remus could pretend it’d been the Firewhiskey talking, and he could finally, finally move on.
Truly, a foolproof plan.
Now, as he lay sprawled across his bed with a book in hand, ‘The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars’ spinning for the hundredth millionth time atop Sirius’s record player, Remus indeed felt very wise and mature; he was taking matters into his own hands and saving himself months’ worth of heartache and misery.
After tonight, he could finally put his feelings aside and just concentrate on being Sirius’s best friend.
As though summoned, the dormitory door swung open, and Sirius strode in with James a step behind him. Both were red-cheeked and vaguely dishevelled, grinning conspiratorially in matching quidditch kits.
“Something funny?” Remus drawled, marking his page.
“Moony!” Sirius cheered, lunging forward to flop unceremoniously across the end of Remus’s bed. “Oh, how I’ve missed you!”
“Mmhm, I’m sure.” Remus brought his book up to hide his blush. “How was practice?”
“Smashing,” James replied, practically luminous as he beamed.
Remus had never met anyone who loved quidditch quite as much as James – and he shared a house with Sirius, Peter, and Marlene. There was just something about it that made him light up in a way nothing else could; sometimes Remus swore James goddamned glowed with his love for the game.
“I won,” Sirius announced smugly, stretching out with a lazy, self-satisfied sigh.
“Funny,” Remus remarked, while James gave a derisive snort and retreated to the bathroom – hopefully for a shower. “I didn’t think that’s how quidditch practice worked.”
Sirius shrugged and gave an airy wave of his hand. “I still won.” The water cut on in the background, and James’s off-key humming filled the dorm. “What cha’ reading?”
Remus flipped his book over and pretended to study the cover with great deliberation. “It’s called, ‘Nosey Roommates and How to Dispose of Them.’”
“Oi!” Sirius protested – though his eyes were bright with laughter.
"That's not very nice, Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes. I ought to inform McGonagall."
"She'd never believe you," Remus replied, grinning smugly. "You heard what Pete said; I'm her favourite."
"Wormtail doesn't know what he's talking about," Sirius dismissed. "Why do you think McGoogles keeps giving me all those detentions? To spend more time with me, of course!"
"Oh yeah, you two really get on," Remus agreed, returning to his book. "Like cat and dog."
He lifted the book above his head as Sirius made a grab for it, laughing. "Leave off, you big mutt!"
Sirius propped himself up on his knees and braced one hand against Remus’s knee, the other grasping fruitlessly through the air. “Curse – your – bloody – height – !” he panted, brows scrunched in concentration.
“Not my fault you’re so short,” Remus teased – then gave a cry of outrage as Sirius stuck a hand beneath his shirt and began tickling him, distracting Remus enough that Sirius was able to snatch the book right out of his hand. “Cheat!”
Sirius attempted to crawl away, but Remus gripped him by the ankles and pulled him backward.
“Ah! Moony!” Sirius complained, though his voice was breathless with laughter.
Remus flipped him onto his back, laughing too. “Nice try,” he goaded, smirking openly.
However, as Remus reached for the book, one of his arms gave way – and both he and Sirius yelped as their chests collided.
“Oof!” Sirius huffed, sounding winded. “Merlin, Remus.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Remus muttered, silently longing for the bed to open up and swallow him whole. “Here, let me just – ”
He pushed himself up, but that just seemed to draw attention to how close they truly were; if Remus leaned in just an inch or two more, their noses would be touching.
Remus opened his mouth – though to do what, he wasn’t sure – and Sirius’s gaze seemed to follow the movement, his eyes fixed on Remus’s lips. Silence hung between, heavy and electric. Remus scarcely dared to breathe.
This couldn’t be – Surely they weren’t going to – ?
At that moment, the bathroom door flew open, and James appeared with a towel around his waist and his hair laying uncharacteristically flat, dripping water onto the floorboards.
Remus and Sirius sprang apart so quickly it made Remus’s head swim. He sat back against his headboard and put a hand to his flaming face.
“Oi, you too aren’t fighting, are you?” James asked suspiciously, stepping over to his chest of drawers.
“Of course not,” Sirius replied, mock indignant. He set the book down on Remus’s bedside table. “I was just entertaining Moony on his birthday.”
Despite himself, Remus felt something in his chest deflate. Of course, he thought miserably, giving himself a mental shake. Honestly, get a grip, Remus; you’re so desperate you’re imagining things.
“Annoying him, more like,” James snorted, now with his back to them as he rummaged through his shirts. “C’mon, Pads, go shower – we don’t have time for your antics.”
“Right you are, Prongsy.” Sirius leaped to his feet and beamed at Remus. “We’ve gotta get ready for your party, Moony."
“Right,” Remus repeated dully. “My party.”
James shot him a strange look. “Are you sure you’re okay, Moony? Sirius didn’t annoy you too much, did he?”
“Rude!” Sirius called from the bathroom.
“No, nothing like that,” Remus insisted, attempting to curve his mouth into something resembling a smile. “I’m fine, James. Really.”
James was still wearing a suspicious frown as he returned to his drawers.
-
They’ve really outdone themselves, was Remus’s first thought as he stepped into the crowded common room. Confetti littered the floor, music blared from Sirius’s record player, and a table had been set up with enough alcohol to shock even Madam Rosmerta. Red and gold streamers hung from the ceiling like glossy vines, draped across every window and decorative fixture.
James and Sirius, evidently, had already started in on the Firewhiskey; James was standing atop one of the sofas, his right foot braced against a side table as he sang loudly into Sirius’s closed fist, who brandished it like a microphone. They’d both wrapped their ties around their heads in some strange bandana-like imitation.
As Remus fought his way through the crowd, Sirius caught his eye and grinned, and Remus’s breath caught in his throat.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Sirius’s dark hair hung in wild curls, his shirt unbuttoned to his collarbone, sweat dampening his brow. His face was flushed with pleasure, something wild and beautiful and free seeming to emanate from his very being. He was fucking incandescent.
Remus couldn’t believe he’d chosen tonight, of all nights, to confess.
Fuck me, I need a drink.
As Sirius began waving him over, James caught on, and they quickly started up a chant of ‘Moony! Moony! Moony!’ from across the common room.
Remus held up a finger, mouthing ‘one minute,’ and spent the next several of them attempting to manoeuvre his way through a sea of thrashing, writhing bodies, biting back a curse as his foot was trodden on for what must’ve been the fifth time.
Gryffindor parties were legendary, and already the tower was crawling with students from all houses – even the occasional Slytherin could be found, though Remus suspected they’d be keeping out of the spotlight; as Voldemort grew in power, Slytherin popularity had hit an all-time low.
When Remus finally reached the alcohol, Lily sidled up beside him, looking resplendent in a slinky black dress with a boxy neckline and long, flowing skirt. She quirked a brow as Remus immediately reached for a bottle of Firewhiskey, but remained silent while he proceeded to down half the thing in one go.
“You know,” she mused finally, “I’m not sure that stuff’s very good for you.”
“You don’t say,” Remus remarked, taking another swig. The initial burn was nothing compared to the heady warmth that settled pleasantly in the pit of his stomach. Already, everything felt better – now the party was almost palatable.
But when Remus went for a third pull, Lily tutted loudly and whisked the bottle from his grip. “Okay, enough. What’s the matter?”
Oh, god. She wanted to talk about feelings. Remus couldn’t do feelings right now.
“Nothing,” he insisted, for the second time in as many hours.
Lily fixed him with a disbelieving stare, but she didn’t push. Just curled her arm around his upper bicep and squeezed, gifting him with that unwavering support that Remus had never truly felt deserving of.
“If you need to talk,” she murmured, leaning in close to be heard over the music, “I’m always here.”
Remus offered her a strained smile. “Thanks, Lils.”
He startled when Lily pulled him into a hug, then relaxed into her embrace, relishing the warmth of her body against his, the familiar scent of her perfume.
They stood there for a moment, an unmoving fixture amidst the mass of fervid dancers – then Remus plucked the bottle of Firewhiskey right from Lily’s hand and whirled on his heel, escaping into the crowd.
“Remus John Lupin!” Lily called after him, sounding both exasperated and amused.
“It’s my birthday!” he called back, waving over his shoulder.
“Moony!” Sirius cheered when Remus climbed up onto the couch beside him. James was now blowing kisses to the dancing masses below, and Peter was egging him on, batting his eyelashes and swooning. “Happy Birthday! It’s your birthday!”
He threw an arm over Remus and drew him close, flushed and grinning and reeking of booze.
“I know, Pads,” Remus drawled, ignoring the pounding of his own heart. At least he could blame his flushed face on the Firewhiskey. “I was aware, actually.”
Sirius gave a great, booming laugh, as though Remus had said something truly hilarious. “C’mon, Moony, let’s dance.”
He took Remus’s hand in his and jumped down from the couch, leading him into the crowd.
Whereas it’d taken Remus a good three minutes to make it from one side of the common room to the other, the crowd seemed to part like water around Sirius, allowing them to make a clean beeline for the middle of the dancefloor.
At that moment, the record changed, and the opening bars to ‘Rebel, Rebel’ began blaring through the tower.
You've got your mother in a whirl
She's not sure if you're a boy or a girl
Hey babe, your hair's alright
Hey babe, let's go out tonight
Sirius gave a joyous whoop and threw back his head, swaying wildly to the beat. His pale skin was gleaming like powdered moonstone, and Remus couldn’t help but stare at the long column of his neck, the sculptured lines of his throat and collarbone.
It was sinful, the way he was dancing, the reckless abandon of his every move. It was art – a fucking masterpiece.
You love bands when they're playing hard
You want more and you want it fast
“Dance with me!” Sirius said suddenly, placing one hand on Remus’s shoulder as he punched the air with the other. He began jumping up and down, and Remus, imbued with nerves and cheap drink and the heat of a hundred bodies, was helpless to do anything but jump with him.
Rebel rebel, you've torn your dress
Rebel rebel, your face is a mess
Rebel rebel, how could they know?
Hot tramp, I love you so!
The common room was a whirl of colours around them, dizzying and indecipherable, and Remus found himself lost to the chaos of it. After ‘Rebel, Rebel’ came a string of Beatles songs, then Led Zepplin – which of course meant a rousing rendition of ‘Black Dog’ – and by that point Remus was so far gone he was almost maybe having fun.
Hey hey baby when you walk that way
Watch your honey drip, can't keep away
Sirius had long since released Remus, and was now performing an increasingly elaborate set of dance moves, some of which bordered on dangerous. James, who had by this point left the couch to join them, kept steering Sirius away from would-be victims, shouting apologies – which were slightly undermined by his own manic grin.
Hey, baby, whoa baby, pretty baby
Darlin' makes 'em do me now
Hey, baby, oh baby, pretty baby
Move me like you're doin' now
“How many has he had?” A voice yelled into his ear.
Lily was at his side, watching in bemusement as Sirius almost knocked over a handful of fourth years with a particularly ambitious high kick.
“He thinks he’s the next Bolan,” Remus yelled back. He and Lily exchanged amused smirks, then dissolved into snickers.
“Lilyflower!” James boomed, throwing his arms open wide. “You’re here!”
“I was just with you,” Lily pointed out, but she was laughing as James lifted her into the air and spun her around in a circle.
Need a woman gonna hold my hand
Tell me no lies, make me a happy man
Ah ah, ah ah, ah ah, ah ah, ah ah, ah ah, ahhh.
Ah, yeah!
As the final bars of ‘Black Dog,’ began to fade, another loud whoop echoed through the room.
Remus turned back to Sirius, half-praying he hadn’t knocked over a side table without James’s supervision –
and felt his heart plummet to the pit of his stomach.
Sirius was with a girl.
Remus didn’t recognise her, but she was exceptionally pretty, and watching intently as Sirius sketched wild, elaborate gestures into the air. No doubt he was making some bitingly witty observation, the kind that always had James and Remus in stitches. As another song started up, Sirius flipped a handful of dark hair over one shoulder and shot the girl a lazy grin.
Remus turned away, blinking furiously to dispel the image.
They’d looked so perfect together, a tapestry of dark hair and smooth skin and saccharine smiles.
Remus felt, abruptly, rather sick.
“You alright, darlin’?” Mary asked, materialising from the crowd in a tight floral dress. “You don’t look well.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Remus insisted, wincing at the rasp in his throat. He cleared his throat and added, “Just going for a smoke break.”
“Okay.” Mary frowned and took a sip from the plastic cup cradled in her manicured hand. “Want company?”
“No, that’s okay,” Remus insisted, waving her off. “Stay and dance.”
Unfortunately, Remus had left his cigarettes up in the dorm room, and though he’d planned on heading outside, he found he couldn’t bring himself to renter the common room. There was an ache in the pit of his stomach, and he feared he’d actually be sick if he had to watch Sirius kiss that girl.
A bit dramatic, perhaps, but Remus was drunk and heartbroken – he’d forgive himself for it, just this once.
God fucking damnit Lupin, this is why you had the plan.
He couldn’t do the plan now, not while Sirius was downstairs locking lips with that girl. No, the only solution was to hide up in his room for the rest of the night and hope he eventually fell asleep.
Remus found the cartoon of cigarettes right where he’d left them, on the top of his trunk. He stuck one between his teeth and lit it with a flick of his fingers, then brought the rest of the pack to the dorm window.
His tender muscles throbbed in protest as Remus wrenched it open and settled on the ledge, but it was worth the cool kiss of night air against his cheeks.
His eyes roved through the darkness of the night; with the full moon a mere day away, his heightened senses picked out the creaking of a nearby tree branch and the woosh of water lapping against the shore of the Great Lake.
The whomping willow was a black shape in his peripheral, but Remus steadfastly refused to acknowledge it.
As he took a drag from his cigarette, the door opened with a loud creak, and the dorm was engulfed in a sudden burst of noise.
Honey honey, how he thrills me, a-ha, honey honey
“Moooooooony!” Sirius slurred, standing silhouetted in the doorway. He was, to Remus’s relief, alone.
Honey honey, nearly kills me, a-ha, honey honey
“Why’d you leave your party?” Sirius demanded, stumbling into the room. He groped through the shadows, nearly tripping over Peter’s trunk. “You just disappeared.”
Remus lifted his lit cigarette. “Went for a smoke.”
Sirius nodded and jumped up onto the windowsill beside him. “C-Can I ‘ave one?”
Remus almost wanted to refuse, just to be petty – but it wasn’t Sirius’s fault that he liked girls and Remus liked him. Besides, Remus could never deny him anything.
Sirius lit up and took a drag, watching the blue smoke undulate from the cigarette between his fingers.
Honey honey, touch me, baby, a-ha, honey honey
Honey honey, hold me, baby, a-ha, honey honey
“So,” Sirius urged again, now sounding significantly less drunk, “why’d you leave?”
You look like a movie star (look like a movie star)
But I know just who you are (I know just who you are)
And honey, to say the least, you're a doggone beast
Remus stood abruptly and stalked across the room to slam the door shut, effectively silencing the music.
“Told you,” Remus grunted. “Smoke.”
“I know that tone,” Sirius argued, stubbing out his cigarette on the windowsill. He hopped down and crossed the room. “You’re grumpy.”
Remus made a noise of disagreement, but Sirius just grinned.
“Moony’s Moody,” he sang under his breath, peering into Remus’s face. “Moody Moony. Moony’s Moody.”
Remus scowled and took a step back. “Look, why don’t you go back downstairs, okay? I’m not… I’m in the mood – ”
“A-HA!” Sirius crowed, pointing triumphantly.
Remus sighed loudly and backed up until he felt his calves hit the end of his bed – before letting himself flop unceremoniously onto the sheets.
“Remus, what’s wrong?” Sirius asked, voice gently probing. He crawled onto the bed and leaned over Remus, hair hanging in a dark frame around his face. “Did you not like your party? Is that it?”
“No,” Remus sighed, reaching up and tangling his fingers through Sirius’s hair. They’d done it a million times; sometimes Sirius put his head in Remus’s lap and wouldn’t stop needling until Remus stroked his scalp. “The party was great.”
“Then what is it?” Sirius asked, eyes closed beneath Remus’s ministrations.
Remus let the silence hang there for a moment while he considered. He’d all but given up on the plan when he’d seen Sirius with that girl, but…
Fuck it.
“It’s just that…” Remus cleared his throat, willing his voice to be steady. “It’s just that I’m in love with you.”
Sirius stilled.
He opened his eyes and stared down at Remus, who stared right back, trying desperately to keep his composure. He knew, if it wasn’t for all that Firewhiskey, he’d be trying to climb out the dorm window right now. It was artificial, the calm that flooded his veins – but Remus would put off the inevitable breakdown as long as he possibly could.
“You…what?” Sirius whispered finally, sitting back on his heels.
Remus let him go, something heavy and cold settling in his chest.
“You heard me,” he said simply, now staring up at the canopy of his bed hangings. “I’m in love with you.”
He could hear Sirius breathing heavily, but he didn’t dare look at him. Any minute now, Sirius was going to leave. Or laugh. Or maybe punch him. Remus hoped Sirius wouldn’t punch him – but he wouldn’t stop him, either.
There was rustling, and Remus tensed, anticipating the worse –
And then a pair of lips were hovering above his.
“Can I kiss you?” Sirius whispered, breath fanning across Remus’s mouth.
Remus wondered, idly, if he was dreaming. If so, he never wanted to wake up.
And he also wanted so, so badly to say yes.
“You’re drunk, Pads,” Remus whispered, brushing a finger against Sirius’s cheek.
“Tomorrow, then?” Sirius prodded hopefully. “Can I kiss you tomorrow?”
Remus made a small, wounded sound and sat up against his pillows. “You won’t want to kiss me tomorrow.”
Sirius drew back abruptly. “Excuse me?”
“You’re drunk,” Remus repeated, a tad more forcefully. Every word felt as though it were being wrenched from his chest. “You don’t know what you’re saying. What you’re doing.”
“You’re drunk, too,” Sirius pointed out hotly. “Maybe you don’t know what you’re saying – ”
“Don’t,” Remus warned, feeling his temper rise – and oh, yes, this was better; anger was better. “I have been in love with you, Sirius, for years. So don’t you dare tell me – ”
“Well, the same goes for me!” Sirius snapped back, voice rising. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since fourth year, Moony – ”
“Stop,” Remus sobbed – Merlin, he was sobbing – “Just…stop talking.”
It wasn’t fucking fair, to have everything Remus ever wanted right within his grasp and to know none of it was fucking real.
Sniffling, Remus drew his knees up to his chest and burrowed his head in his hands. “It wasn’t supposed to be this way. You were supposed to…”
“Reject you?” Sirius guessed, seemingly incensed at the idea. “Always the fucking martyr, Remus, aren’t you?”
Remus was so startled he lifted his head and met Sirius’s dark angry gaze.
“You didn’t think I liked you back,” Sirius continued scathingly, “and now that I haven’t rejected you, you’re trying to run away. Because if I like you back, Remus, you might actually be deserving of love. If I like you back – ”
“Shut up!” Remus spat.
“ – you might have to admit you’re actually worth something!”
Sirius was breathing heavily, and Remus felt his own chest rising and falling sharply, something hot and frenzied coursing through his veins.
“Fuck you, Sirius,” Remus hissed through gritted teeth.
The blood was roaring in his ears as he shot to his feet and stomped furiously from the room.
-
Remus hadn’t even been entirely sure why he was angry.
He’d spent a few hours stewing in anger outside by the greenhouses, huddled against the cold while he puffed on a spliff. He’d been shaking with anger at that point, barely able to hold the spliff steady between his fingers.
Sirius’s voice had seemed to keep echoing through his ears, sharp and inescapable.
“You didn’t think I liked you back…and now that I haven’t rejected you, you’re trying to run away.”
That’s not true, Remus had thought fiercely, massaging his throbbing head – all that Firewhiskey hadn’t been such a good idea after all. I’m not running away.
Except, he was out here, wasn’t he? He was hiding from his own birthday party.
Remus had scowled at the thought and smoked moodily, glaring into the distance.
Then, when he was sure the party had well and truly died down, he’d returned to the common room and crashed on the couch for the second night in a row.
It had not been a restful sleep.
Remus had kept thinking about the plan, about his unwavering certainty as to how it’d unfold – and his complete shock when Sirius hadn’t rejected him.
In that moment, it was as though Remus had short-circuited.
There Sirius was, offering him everything he’d ever wanted, and Remus…
Remus had run away.
Eventually, Remus fell asleep to those two words circling through his aching skull, and woke early the next morning to slip away before his housemates began to stir.
He finished another spliff by the Great Lake, watching the sun rise and cast explosions of pink and gold across its rippling surface.
And still, Remus wasn’t even entirely sure why he was angry.
Hadn’t Sirius only been speaking the truth? Remus didn’t think he was worthy of Sirius; the idea was laughable. Sirius was bright and beautiful and full of life, all marble-hewn edges and storm-riddled eyes. Next to him and James, Remus knew he couldn’t possibly begin to compare.
Why focus on colours like brown and grey when blue and red already existed?
Behind him, the castle burst into life as the sky became a bright, brilliant azure; if nothing else, it would be a beautiful day.
Remus struggled to his feet and strode back across the dew-speckled lawn, still wearing last night’s clothes. He slowly made the trek up to Gryffindor tower, knowing the confrontation that waited just beyond the portrait hole, and breathed a sigh of relief when no one stopped him as he climbed the stairs to his dorm.
“Morning, Remus!” James sang, grinning cheerily over his shoulder as he knotted his tie. Unlike mere mortals, James Potter never seemed to suffer the consequences of a hangover; it sort of made Remus want to shake him a little. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks, James,” Remus groused, flicking him two fingers. A cursory glance revealed Sirius’s empty bed, but he could hear the shower running behind the closed bathroom door. “How was your night?”
“Brilliant!” James had finished with his tie and was now desperately trying to smooth his hair down – as fruitless an act as always. “You missed Wormtail’s incredible impressionable of Stevie Nicks.”
A muffled groan emitted from a clump of sheets atop Peter’s bed, and when they shifted, Remus could just make out a tuft of straw-coloured hair.
“You sound how I feel, Pete,” Remus muttered, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Sorry for leaving early, by the way.”
James waved him off. “That’s okay mate, we were just disappointed we didn’t get to give you your present.” His gaze flicked between Sirius’s empty bed and Remus, something uncertain entering his face. “We figured that you weren’t feeling well…or something.”
“Or something,” Remus repeated.
At that moment, the bathroom door swept open, and Sirius appeared wearing nothing but a towel around his waist.
Remus looked away hastily, feeling his mouth go dry.
“Hey, Pete, why don’t we go down to breakfast?” James asked abruptly, clapping his hands together with exaggerated cheer.
“But I’m not even ready yet,” Peter complained, lifting his head to blink blearily around the room.
James shot him a pointed look. “Yeah, I know, but if we don’t hurry, they might run out of…toast. And you’d hate to miss out on toast.”
“O-Oh yeah!” Peter agreed suddenly, eyes darting between Remus and Sirius. “Good call, Prongs!”
The two made a hasty exit, Peter still dressed in a pair of stripy, button-up pyjamas.
“Subtle, aren’t they?” Sirius drawled, leaning against the doorframe.
“Yep.” Remus refused to glance in his direction, and instead devoted his attention entirely to the wooden knots of his bedpost. “Real sneaky, those two.”
Thankfully, the resulting silence only lasted another minute before Sirius gave a loud exhale and went to sit on the edge of his bed. “Moony, I’m sorry for how I spoke to you last night.”
Remus gave a sigh of his own. Here it was. “That’s okay, Pads. I shouldn’t have – ”
“No, you didn’t let me finish,” Sirius interjected. “I’m not sorry for what I said. Just how I said it.”
Remus frowned, but Sirius was already getting up again and coming to stand in front of Remus, leaving a trail of water in his wake.
“Remus, I know you have some…ideas about yourself,” Sirius began. “I know you think you’re lesser than us, somehow – that you deserve less. But I’m not going to let you sacrifice your own happiness.”
He seemed to grow in determination as he spoke, voice raising until he was practically shouting the words. “I’m not going to let you, because you’re courageous and brilliant and so fucking kind…and you deserve love.”
Remus was trembling; there was nothing to be done for it.
“It’s okay if you don’t want that happiness with me,” Sirius added, eyes fixed on his feet, suddenly shy again. “But just…just know that – ”
“Can we not talk about this right now?” Remus cut in, wincing at his dry, rasping voice.
Sirius seemed to deflate, but he nodded slowly, not lifting his eyes.
“It’s just,” Remus continued, shoving back a wave of hysteria, “you’re not wearing any clothes.”
Sirius gave a sudden bark of laughter and finally raised his head, meeting Remus’s gaze with a teasing grin. “Oh? Does that bother you, Moony?”
Remus was blushing, he could fucking feel it.
“It’s…inappropriate,” he attempted, mortifyingly aware of how much of a twat he sounded.
Sirius laughed again and took a step closer, looking up at Remus from beneath his thick black lashes. “Are you sure you want me to get dressed?”
Of course I fucking don’t.
Remus resisted the urge to close his eyes; he could feel they were on a precipice, on the edge of something he couldn’t quite discern. It was terrifying. It was thrilling.
“I’m not going to let you sacrifice your own happiness, Remus.”
“Sirius,” Remus whispered into the space between them, “can I kiss you?”
Sometimes, when you were on the edge, it was wise to take a step back.
Other times, it was wiser to simply jump off.
And as Sirius rushed forward, pressing his lips to Remus’s in answer, Remus could feel them taking that leap together.
After that, it was all glorious wet heat and silky tongue and the occasional clack of teeth. Sirius kissed like he did everything else: passionately, recklessly, beautifully.
Remus couldn’t get enough.
He braced one hand on Sirius’s jawline, tilting his face up as he licked into his mouth, and used the other to grip his waist, relishing in the soft undulation of Sirius’s body beneath his own. Electricity seemed to be thrumming up and down Remus’s spine, rendering him a shivering, aching mess; he couldn’t kiss Sirius fast enough, hard enough.
He needed more, more, more.
Sirius, for his part, seemed to sympathise; he made breathy little whimpers into Remus’s mouth, fingers digging into Remus’s shoulder so harshly they were bound to leave a mark.
Privately, Remus relished the idea; proof that this had actually happened, that he wasn’t experiencing a truly wonderful, vivid hallucination.
Finally, they drew apart to catch their breaths, foreheads bumping together as they waited for their heartbeats to slow. Remus was certain his own must be so loud people could hear it downstairs in the common room.
“Alright, Moony?” Sirius teased, grinning breathlessly. His bright, quicksilver eyes were alight with mischief. Remus wanted to devour him. “You look a bit flushed.”
“Shuddup,” Remus mumbled, burrowing his face in Sirius’s neck. “So do you.”
Sirius gave a breathy chuckle, and they both lapsed into a contented silence. But as Remus allowed himself to bask in the reality of the moment, a thought niggled at him from the back of his mind.
They’d looked so perfect together…a tapestry of dark hair and smooth skin and saccharine smiles…
“That…that girl,” Remus whispered suddenly, leaning away. “What happened to her?”
Sirius frowned; Remus wanted to smooth the crinkled skin with his thumb. “What girl?”
“The girl you were kissing,” Remus said. “In the silver dress?”
That frown deepened. “I didn’t kiss her,” Sirius protested, looking thoroughly puzzled.
Remus felt his face flush. Sure, he hadn’t seen them kiss, but he’d assumed…
“What’d you two talk about, then?” he asked, a touch irritably.
“She wanted to know if Caradoc Dearborn was dating Mary,” Sirius replied, raising his brows significantly. “She fancied him.”
Remus’s mouth parted into a moue of understanding. “Oh.”
Realisation seemed to bleed into Sirius’s face. “You were jealous.”
Remus shrugged and turned away. “You were right, Padfoot. I…I was running away.” He rubbed gingerly at his neck, suddenly unable to meet Sirius’s eyes. “At first, because I didn’t think you were interested. And then because…because I didn’t think I deserved you.”
Sirius’s expression morphed into something unbearably sad. “Oh, Moony – ”
“So it was easy,” Remus interrupted, unable to bear even an ounce of pity, “assuming you were hooking up with that girl. It made sense. I mean, she was beautiful…”
“She was,” Sirius agreed, threading his fingers through Remus’s. “And so are you.”
Remus snorted.
“It’s true,” Sirius insisted, letting go of one hand so he could cup Remus’s cheek. “You’re fucking gorgeous, Moony. It drives me mental.”
“Have you two kissed and made up yet?” James called loudly, bursting into the dorm room before Remus could respond. “Peter still needs to get changed, and I think I left my – Merlin’s saggy tits!”
“Heard of knocking, Prongs?” Sirius asked wryly, disentangling himself from Remus (who was currently contemplating the benefits of jumping out the window for the second time in twelve hours.)
“Heard of roommate courtesy?” James teased back. “Put a sock on the door next time at least! I think I’ve been blinded!”
“So…you don’t mind, then, James?” Remus prodded, his heart wrenching itself in two at the very thought. The idea that James would disapprove…Remus couldn’t bear to consider it.
“Mind what?” James asked, crossing the room to his trunk. “You and Sirius? Mate, I’m bloody thrilled – was starting to think you two would never get your shit together.”
Remus bit back an actual squeak of surprise and felt his face go bright red. “Sirius and I both being blokes,” he clarified, spluttering.
James whipped around, eyes wide with shock. “What? No, of course not. Why would I care?”
Suspicion entered his voice, and his gaze narrowed as he added, “Has someone said something to either of you?”
Remus and Sirius exchanged knowing grins.
Thank god for James Potter.
“No, it’s fine,” Remus assured him. “Nothing like that.”
“Although, we’d greatly appreciate it if you would leave,” Sirius cut in, sounding vaguely petulant. “I haven’t finished snogging Moony’s face off yet.”
“Argh, Padfoot!” James complained, lifting his hands to his ears. Remus was convinced he’d never felt more embarrassed in his life – and that was truly saying something. “Don’t say that! You’re like my brother!”
“Aw, what’s wrong, Prongs?” Sirius grinned wickedly. “Don’t wanna hear about the sweet, passionate love we’re gonna make– ”
“Can you guys leave?!” Peter demanded, footsteps audible through the open doorway as he thumped up the stairs. “Slughorn’s gonna give me detention for being late, and I can’t even get to my bloody uniform!”
“Sorry, Wormtail,” Sirius continued, apparently shameless, “Prongs and I were just discussing all the ways I want to ravish Moony – ”
“C’mon,” Remus said sternly, leading a snickering Sirius from the room. “I think you’ve said enough. Dorm’s all yours, Pete!”
Sirius was still laughing as they clambered downstairs, his face burrowed in the crook of Remus’s neck.
“You’re a menace,” Remus sighed, swatting his shoulder lightly.
“It was for you, Moony,” Sirius protested, blinking up at him innocently. “I just wanted to show you that you’re worthy – ”
“Nope,” Remus cut in, rolling his eyes, “you can’t just pull shit like that because I have low self-esteem.”
“But are you starting to believe me?” Sirius asked, bumping his shoulder against Remus’s. “That you’re a worthwhile person?”
Remus opened his mouth to give the automatic self-deprecating response, then paused.
He knew it wasn’t a simple fix, that you couldn’t rely on another person to supply the self-worth you were lacking within yourself. And he knew that he’d still have days when he hated himself with such ferocity it made him feel sick.
But he also knew he could ask for help. After all, he had some pretty great fucking friends.
“I do feel better,” Remus admitted finally, as they entered the common room.
Sirius beamed, and for a moment, Remus couldn’t breathe beneath the weight of the love he felt for this boy.
“Careful,” Remus coughed, turning away to hide the moisture gathering in his eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head.”