Work Text:
July, 1978
There was always something different about the friendship between Sirius and Remus. While the other boys always stopped at a point, he and Remus continued, pushing the boundaries to a degree of closeness that wasn’t natural or acceptable—sure, Sirius would consider he and James closer than other friends, as well, but it was different, they were brothers. And Sirius didn’t feel so ashamed late at night when he awoke from a dream of James comforting him after a particularly terrible nightmare. But he did when the person flickered, always becoming Remus moments before Sirius opened his eyes.
It was just after they graduated, that it became clear as day again, they were in James and Sirius’ and Remus’ new flat, wrestling on the floor—Sirius’ body was tingling at every point of contact, blissfully ignorant with the copious amount of alcohol pumping through his system. It was always when drunk they ended up like this.
Sirius was aware of the girls watching with sneaky eyes. See, Remus had a girlfriend—his first. A Ravenclaw named Emmeline Vance. It was a new thing, in the last month or so. While Sirius had never had a girlfriend. Kisses at parties, short flings—nothing real. But everybody—except James—seemed to be aware of the odd tension between he and Remus. Not that they’d ever mention it. It was only in the pitying looks they sent him from time to time, or the way they distracted Emmeline’s attention.
Sirius isn’t sure how it happened, but at a point in the night, standing by the kitchen, he was watching Remus and his girl make out against the living room wall. And they were then coming his way—toward the bedroom. To do more than make-out, he thought bitterly. How dare they leave the party and be so anti-social?
He can’t remember what he said, mind spinning violently as white hot rage bellowed through his veins. Sirius went to punch Remus for some reason, fist swinging toward the taller boy’s stomach before he could think to resolve whatever it was going on with words, but suddenly Remus wasn’t a him—there was Lily between them.
Sirius’ fist didn’t slow or stop, moving in slow motion but unable to be pulled from it’s disastrous trajectory, Sirius’ vision tunnelling in on her weary forest green eyes as she tried to call his bluff.
And just as quickly as Sirius made contact—Lily falling backward in shock as voices gasped and the occupants of the room sobered—there was a fist inbound, punching him right back.
“James!”
Sirius put his hands over his knees, keeled over as the aftershock sloshed around his head, a pounding headache making home in his skull as he reached to pull at his hair as if it might make it better. He shuttered involuntarily, a wave of nausea overcoming him as dizziness consumed his being.
“I’m fine, I deserved that. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“Go, take five, come back when you’re ready,” said James gruffly.
And so Sirius left, into the fresh air of a warm London night—the noise of nearby bars and restaurants and happy, put-together people celebrating the nice weather echoing through the backstreets.
He stood leaning against the fence for a little while before a voice startled him from sobering up, mulling over regrets and memories of a past he didn’t want to think influenced him at all.
“I can’t believe you punched Lily,” Remus said, coming to stand in front of Sirius who was watching the boy’s shoes and the pavement.
“I was aiming for you, numb nuts,” he grumbled in answer. “Pretty sure I'm concussed, James has a hell of a left hook,” he continued, putting a cool hand over his tender nose when Remus only stared at him.
The mousy haired boy ignored the second statement, “I thought you’d see,” he said.
Sirius looked up, hating the way Remus stood so wearily around this time of the month. “I don’t know what happened,” I’m blind when it comes to you. “Why are you out here? Don’t you have a girl to sit with?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, ducking his head a little, “She’s fixing up Lily, probably now mad at me for leaving.”
Sirius raised an eyebrow, “Then why did you?”
“Leave?”
“Yeah.”
“‘Cause she can handle herself—”
He scoffed, “You’re sabotaging yourself. Pushing and pushing until she leaves so you don’t have to break it off when it gets too real—”
Remus stepped forward, shaking his head vehemently as Sirius straightened his posture in defence, sensing another fight brewing. He welcomed the idea of pain, of fire and fury and punishment.
“No, Sirius—”
“Yes, Remus. If even I know it, how thick do you have—”
Remus’ lips were on his.
Remus Lupin’s lips were on Sirius’ own. And Sirius’ thoughts fizzled, feelings on fire as a heat he’d not known existed travelled up and down his spine, pooling in his belly, revitalising his body and bringing back the fuzziness of his drunken stupor ten-fold.
But before Sirius could think to move, or touch or do anything affirming, Remus was recoiling, wiping his lips regretfully as he stumbled backwards, almost falling off the curb.
“Wha—”
“I’m sorry, I know you’re not like that—”
Sirius’ world was changing much too quickly, a monumental shift in everything he’d ever known and his heart was opening, fluttering like a butterfly in the peak of spring as it yearned, twisted and turned to get closer to what it very clearly wanted.
“And you are?” He asked incredulously, unable to control his tone as his voice wobbled dangerously, “Remus, I—”
“Forget it.”
And then the boy was gone, so Sirius sat himself on the curb and lit a cigarette to forget.
And another to make his head spin.
And another to forget again.
He was on his fourth—smelling of Remus’ favourite brand—when Marlene found him. “Sirius, love. Come back to the party, James is getting tetchy,” the blonde, messy-haired girl said, lighting a cigarette in solidarity. James hated smoking, so they couldn’t do it in the flat.
“He’s the one who told me to leave…” Sirius muttered petulantly as she sat down on the curb beside him, their knees touching.
“That’s not what this is about, is it?” She asked, looking him up and down. He must’ve looked a right state if even Marlene was worrying.
“Remus kissed me,” he answered—feelings so strong he chose instead to keep his mouth shut. It was something he wanted to keep private. Out of character.
“Remus…kissed you?” She gasped, turning her face away shamefully, “Poor Emmeline.”
Sirius went to sleep on James’ floor that evening, so that the girls could share his room and that Remus could have his space with Emmeline Vance.
It was hot. And Sirius was bothered, unwilling to sleep without a blanket, but unable to sleep with one covering his whole body. So really, he was laying there contemplating death for a long while after it seemed James’ breathing had evened out and he heard Lily turn over, facing him—not that he could see anything.
“Sirius?”
“Yeah?”
“When are you going to get a girlfriend?”
He sighed heavily, “I don’t know, Lily.” Because I’m beginning to think the girlfriend I want already has a girlfriend, and that the girlfriend I want is a boy. But he thought she might know that. He thought all of the girls might know, if their looks were anything to go by.
The door opened then in a cruel twist of fate, revealing a tall, gangly figure back lit by the hallway light, clad only in a pair of boxer shorts. Remus closed the door and sunk to the floor next to Sirius who turned away from the bed and Lily to face him.
“Why are you in here?” Sirius asked haughtily, “It’s an exclusive club, James’ room—”
Remus’ voice was quiet when he spoke, clearing his throat nastily, “I broke it off with Emmeline,” he croaked.
And Sirius hated the way his heart tripped over itself, ticking faster and faster as Remus positioned himself comfortably, keeping his careful gaze on Sirius all the while their toes, knees, ankles brushed against each other.
“You did?”
“I cheated on her—”
“When?”
“About an hour ago, physically.”
“Physically…”
“Mentally, I don’t think I’ve really placed anybody above…above you in a long while,” he stuttered, eyes darting away—anywhere other than Sirius, “I shouldn't have done that to her, I know.”
“Oh.”
“I know its perverted, but I don’t know how to stop,” Remus supplied wryly when he likely realised Sirius wasn’t about to say any more.
“Perhaps I’m perverted too, then,” Sirius said seriously, feeling more aware of the quiet than he had before. He was sober by now, conscious of the way Remus’ amber eyes sparkled even in the low-light, how his breath was hot against Sirius’ nose. When did you get so close? Sirius thought dumbly.
“Really?”
“I think so,” he said, voice barely a whisper as he grazed his lips against Remus’, only the dark of night cloaking their feelings now bare to the world—to each other.
And James and Lily.