Chapter Text
The first time Sirius saw him, they were at a party. Sirius was sitting at the counter, his—what, 5th? 6th? He was too drunk to remember—drink in hand. The other boy was sitting in the corner of the room, a lollipop between his lips, and a distant look in his eyes. A flower crown of small roses sat lazily across his brow. It was the same crown Sirius had seen Lily Evans making a minute ago.
Whether it was the alcohol, or that good old Sirius Black recklessness that made him do it, he couldn’t tell. But something compelled Sirius to go over to the sandy-haired boy.
Sirius moved through the crowd, the colorful, strobing lights around the room giving him a throbbing headache. By the time he reached the edge of the dancers, he felt like he was about to pass out, and the music was roaring in his ears. But when he saw the boy again, it all seemed to disappear.
As Sirius approached him, the boy glanced up, his amber eyes momentarily stunning Sirius, his heart giving a sudden flutter. It’s just the vodka, it’s just the vodka, it’s just the vodka . He said over and over in his head, trying desperately to ignore the sudden butterflies in his stomach.
Propping one hand on his hip, Sirius stopped in front of him, looking down at the soft-haired boy, swirling the liquid in his cup. He loudly cleared his throat, and the boy looked up curiously, the flower crown shifting on his head.
“‘Ello.” He said, somewhat hesitantly, pulling out one of his earbuds. “Who’re you?” His voice was like melted honey; smooth, sweet, made you feel all warm on the inside. Sirius’s lips parted subconsciously, and he had to take of swig of his drink to cover it.
“I’m Sirius Black. And you?” Sirius extended his hand towards the boy, far too quickly, causing him to teeter. The boy hesitated at first, and then reached up from his spot on the floor to shake his hand.
“Remus Lupin.” Remus’s hand was soft and warm, just slightly larger than Sirius’s. A plain silver ring circled his index finger, though based on the faint green mark underneath, Sirius guessed it wasn’t real silver. As Remus stared up with his gorgeous, golden eyes, Sirius noticed the pride flag painted on his cheek and couldn’t help but smile to himself. Sirius held his hand for just a moment too long before dropping it awkwardly.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. Do you go to Hogwarts?” Sirius, trying to find a neutral position, tucked his arms across behind his back.
“Oh no,” said Remus. “Not yet at least. Lily Evans invited me.” Sirius frowned, and cocked his head to the side.
“Not yet? What does that mean?” Remus smiled, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. Sirius’s heart jumped at the tiny tilt of his lips, and he had to look away as his face flushed red.
“I’m starting at Hogwarts in two weeks. I’ll be in 11th year.” Sirius nodded, and suddenly feeling very awkward standing over the other boy, decided to sit down.
“Oh. Um, I’m in 11th year too.” He leaned against the wall, letting gravity pull him down until he was sitting on the ground beside Remus. “You’ll like Hogwarts. Good school.” Sirius mumbled, as he glanced around awkwardly, suddenly not having anything to say. “Um.. What’re you listening to?” Remus gave him a quizzical look, but instead of saying anything, he handed Sirius one earbud. The moment Sirius put it in his ear, he was surrounded by the most amazing music he had ever listened to.
An iridescent guitar played in the background, sending a sharp shiver down his back, and as the drums slowly grew, Sirius’s eyes drifted closed. He let the deep, almost seductive voice of the singer completely envelop him, his breathing slowing to match the tempo of the music. The lyrics made no sense, at all, which somehow made it better.
Cause love's such an old fashioned word
And love dares you to care for
The people on the edge of the night
And love dares you to change our way of
Caring about ourselves
This is our last dance
This is our last dance
This is ourselves
“What was that?” He murmured as the song faded out, opening his eyes sluggishly. Remus’s eyes were fixed on his face, as if staring at a fascinating animal at the zoo, and blushed when Sirius’s eyes met his.
“Queen and Bowie. Under Pressure.” A grin split across Sirius’s face.
“I love it. Play another.” Remus obliged quietly, selecting a playlist on his phone. Seconds later, the delight of the music returned.
This thing called love
I just can't handle it
This thing called love
I must get 'round to it
I ain't ready
Crazy little thing called love
Sirius faded away, losing himself in the guitar and the drums and the radiating warmth of the boy beside him and this strange new feeling blooming in his stomach.
He had no idea how long had passed, but when Sirius opened his eyes again, almost everyone was gone. His best mate, James, was passed out at the counter, and Lily Evans was curled up next to his chair, drearily scrolling through her phone. Trash was scattered across the dance floor, ranging from plastic cups to cigarette stubs. A few couples were still swaying to the soft music, one of which was Peter Pettigrew—another of Sirius’s friends—and his latest girlfriend, Dorcas.
Sirius sat up, having slouched down a bit, and glanced at Remus. The boy was snoring softly, his golden hair falling across his face in gentle curls, the rose crown slowly sliding down his head. He looked so peaceful, and so deeply asleep. Sirius envied him; his own rest was haunted by nightmares. And, it didn’t pay off well to sleep solidly in his house, he needed to always be ready to wake up at a moment's notice, in case his mother was mad for whatever reason. It was better to wake up before than it was to wake up after.
Sirius shrugged off the thoughts of his mother. Parties were no place to be sad, or afraid, or any of the feelings Walburga Black brought with her. Instead, he gently tugged the earbud out, and pooled it in Remus’s hand, which was laying by his side. On an impulse, Sirius scribbled his number on a Post-It note, and pressed it on the screen of Remus’s phone, with the message: Send me that playlist? - Sirius .
He shook James awake, yanked Peter off of Dorcas lap where he’d sat down, and dragged them both out the door. Peter was the most sober of the three, barely, but he got in the driver’s seat. James clambered into the passenger’s seat, and Sirius drunkenly fell into the back. The party had been at a student’s parent’s house, but within a few minutes, they were back at the school dorms.
As soon as they stepped into their dorm room, both Peter and James were out instantaneously, but as Sirius crawled into bed, he felt nothing but restlessness. All he could think about was Remus, with his fluffy hair, and his beautiful eyes, and his flower crown, and his perfect, perfect hands. Sirius had never thought about anyone’s hands before, and found it strange that he was now, and attempted to push all thoughts of the quiet boy away.
Sirius had almost started drifting into sleep when his phone buzzed loudly. Once. Twice. Three times. With a groan, he rolled over, groping at the bedside table. A new number had texted him.
1353549234: Hey
1353549234: Here’s the playlist you asked for
1353549234: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0QUPSRtPHMJ3ZcOoDbvwxS?si=00db27e1af6645c0
Suddenly completely awake, Sirius greedily clicked on the link, and scrolled through the playlist, selecting one of the songs by an artist called David Bowie. He drifted away to the sound of gentle guitar, slow drums, and the calming, strangely mystical lyrics.
There's a Starman waiting in the sky
He'd like to come and meet us
But he thinks he'd blow our minds
There's a Starman waiting in the sky
He's told us not to blow it
'Cause he knows it's all worthwhile
He told me
Let the children lose it
Let the children use it
Let all the children boogie