Constellations

Sunday Feeling

Walks of shame always suck. They just do. It’s a little like suddenly being aware of your breathing, Remus feels, or the shape of your tongue in your mouth. It’s not all-encompassing bad, just uncomfortable. As far as walks of shame go, though - insofar that Remus has had them - this one is particularly tolerable. Sure, he’s wearing yesterday’s going-out-clothes and it’s a special kind of itchy, but he’s had breakfast, coffee, ibuprofen and a… smarting but necessary conversation. He hopes David really is as cool with the situation as he said and the offer for a decidedly friendly coffee date was a genuine one.

Thank whomever might be listening that it’s a Saturday and he doesn’t have classes, though.

He rests his head on the cool wood of their door before opening it, and takes a second to mentally prepare himself. It’s time to face the music. Which is especially daunting when you don’t know what genre will be playing. There’s option a) where Sirius won’t be inside, confirming that he, too, went home with a stranger. A painful press on a familiar bruise. There’s a good chance for option b) where Sirius is home, just dying to mercilessly tease Remus about going home with a stranger. Incredibly annoying, but survivable. And then there’s option c) where Sirius is inside and so is a stranger he took home. Devastating.

He doesn’t expect option d) the absolutely adorable heap of- well, dog that awaits him on the couch as he opens the door, blinking at him sleepily. There’s a crease from the couch-pillow pressed into Sirius’ face and his hair is backlit by the early morning light and Remus would give everything to be allowed to mess it up and kiss him good morning.

“I have never, in my life, set foot on a sailboat,” he replies, as he empties the contents of his pockets into the glass bowl by the door, “Nor, in all probability, will I, unless Lily suddenly decides she wants a sea-bound wedding.”

Sirius seems chill, all things considered, so rather than disappearing into his room immediately, Remus opts to flop down into the armchair they picked up from their moving neighbours two floors down that one time. “I did have fun, yeah,” he replies, “Didn’t expect to, but I did. Sorry for bailing on being your wingman.” His brain drags up vague memories of his best friend’s concerned face, so he adds, “I appreciate you looking out for me, though.”

He hesitates, but then opens his stupid mouth and asks, “Did you, er- scratch your itch?” and immediately wants to disappear into the cushions.

"Scratch my itch?” Sirius says, smirking around a laugh as he sits up fully. He hadn’t changed either, having fallen asleep in his makeup and stripped down to his undershirt. “Is that how you pull the lads, Moony? Talking dirty like that?”  He pulls one of the pillows out from underneath Grimm and chucks it at Remus, mostly to let his best friend know he was just teasing, and also to prevent Sirius’s thoughts from straying down that rather appealing path. 

Wildly, Sirius wonders if he should lie. To-save face with Remus? Sirius chides himself, he’d grown out of constantly needing to impress-at the very least, he had when it came to Remus. And James; usually.  Sirius glances at Remus and feels a weird tug in the bottom of his stomach. Sirius makes a noise of irritation to himself and searches for his wand, digging in the cushions, his back to Remus. It was easier to not face him. 

“But uh, no. Actually. Crowd turned quite dull not long after you left.” 

Sirius tells this to the cushions, throwing the large green afghan he’d been wrapped in behind him, as he finally fishes his wand out. 

He fashions his face into a smile before he turns to look at Remus.  “Suppose the tables have to turn every once in a while; my ego might recover eventually. Accio.” He points at the fridge and a pitcher of water drifts out towards them, Sirius catches it in his right hand and drinks right from it, emptying half of it in three large gulps. 

“I’m glad you had fun.” Sirius says, meaning it. 

“Anything of note? Do you think you’ll uh, see him again?”

He hears a distant door shut and Sirius starts to stir, blinking his eyes open to see one of Grim’s feet inches away from his face. He sits up just enough to manhandle the greyhound into being the little spoon and settles back into the couch, sure it was still heinously early. 

Grimm’s ears perk up just as Sirius also hears a key in the door. His eyes open all the way, awareness taking him fully as he remembers the night before. Jealousy grips him anew as the wine from last night pounds in his temples. He takes a deep breath through his nose as he flops over onto his stomach, his chin on the arm rest facing the door.

When Remus comes into their apartment, Sirius feels his chest tighten. There’s no use kidding himself or pretending otherwise, at least not now, not when he’s this hungover and Remus is basically fucking glowing in the morning light from the window; Sirius loves him. A love beyond just that of a friend or even a brother. Remus was who Sirius wanted when he kissed that stranger last night, and if he was being honest, Remus was always who Sirius is looking for in each stranger he kisses.

He’s going to have to get over it. Nothing good comes from Sirius loving someone. Plus, if he ever had the nerve to say anything, what would he do if Remus rejected him? He’s burned off of his family tree, cut ties totally with Peter and James was planning a wedding, a family. Remus is all Sirius has, and he needs to do what he can to not fuck this up along with everything else. 

“Hey sailor.” Sirius greets from the couch, feeling (and probably looking like) a bit of a slug. “Nice outfit, my mate Moony was wearing the exact same one last night.” 

He grins at Remus as Grimm wakes up and rests his chin beside him, joining the welcoming committee.

“You have fun Moons?” Sleep is still clinging to his voice as he fights off a yawn. 

Al smiled.  “Well I’m glad that you like me,” he teased gently.  Alphard loved his nephew almost like a son.  He always had and nothing would change that.  He took a slow sip of his whiskey, finishing it the glass.

“Hm.  Other wisdom…”  He paused for a moment, pondering almost playfully.  “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do?”

Sirius chortles.

“I fear I’ve already failed you in that regard.” He thinks in passing about the Marauders and everything they’ve been up to.

He finishes the whiskey with a grimace, feeling tipsier than he aniticipated.

Alphard’s smile faded a bit as he looked over at his nephew.  He let things hang in the air for a few moments.  “It does,” he replied with a sad smile.  “You have to surround yourself with people who love you for you… people who become the family you choose.”

He paused again, taking a nice long swig of his whiskey.  “When it comes to blood, we’re all we have left.  But you have a good family you chose.  A strong one.  I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit jealous.”

Of course, Alphard had his own core group of friends, but none of them were as strong as what Sirius had with his friend group.

Sirius smiles. “They’re alright.”

He still had not told his uncle about the reason for the Marauders deep bond, a secret that involves more than just him isn’t his to tell. 

“They like you. And I do too for what it’s worth.” Sirius still feels himself wound tight, but he takes another hesitant sip of the whiskey and can feel himself relax.

Dancin’ On My Own || Wolfstar

Remus is not entirely sure if it’s the alcohol or the compliment that has his face flushed, but he bets it’s some sort of unholy combination of the two. “Thanks, Pads,” he says, running a hand through his hair, imagining it’s quite messed up at this point. “Feel pretty good.” The bartender puts his order on the bar, two cocktails with colourful straws and he doesn’t know what comes over him; he just grabs his drink and sucks pointedly on the straw in a way that’s decidedly indecent. For whose benefit? His own, maybe. He feels daring and euphoric and maybe a little like he wishes David was a few inches shorter, but he’ll take what he can get.

“I a- I got it,” he slurs, cocking his head at Sirius, “I know what I’m doing. You made me put condoms on a bunch of bloody fruits and vegetables when I came out.” Still, the thought that Sirius is looking out for him, putting his own shit on hold to make sure Remus is safe, is very comforting. Sweet, even, in that way Sirius has. “You don’t gotta babysit me, mate,” he says, bumping his shoulder against Sirius’.

He smiles when David emerges from the crowd and lets himself be dragged back onto the dancefloor. “You should have fun!” he calls, half turned around to keep looking at Sirius.

Remus, at least, has fun. Has fun dancing, and being snogged some more. Eventually, David leans closer and asks, “D’you want to get out of here?” and Remus nods.

He looks around to let Sirius know, since even in his inebriated state figured his friend might get worried if he doesn’t, but can’t seem to spot him, this time. With a sigh, he pulls out his muggle phone and sends a quick prayer to whomever might be listening that Sirius remembers to check his.

From: Moony🌚 David invitd me over. Can’t find u didn’t want you to wory. Text me when u see tis?

He puts his phone on vibrate, rather than silent, and lets himself be dragged to the exit and, will wonders never cease, into a cab.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” David says. “Did you let your friend know where you’re going? He seemed worried.” Seems like David is a bit better at holding his liquor than Remus is. 

“Yeah, texted him,” Remus replies, looking at his phone to check, “He’s a bit protective, that’s all. We basically grew up together, you know how it is.” He glances at the rearview mirror, where the Pink Cauldron is quickly disappearing out of view. A pang of regret sits uncomfortably in his stomach.

“I should have fun.” Sirius echos, incredulous as he is amused at the role reversal. This time, when Remus gets pulled away, Sirius studies David instead. The bruise on his ego is still tender but Sirius can’t blame anyone for wanting Remus, especially Remus how he is tonight. David isn’t a very good dancer, but he is smiling a lot and, as much as Sirius hated to admit it, he seems harmless. 

“I should go have fun.” Sirius says again, his gaze drifting to Remus. He’s caught up in whatever song is playing, his hair wild, the pinks and blues of the lights reflecting on his skin; something David says makes him smile and reach up to kiss him. Sirius takes a second to picture himself joining him, where their fun could be spent together. 

Then he turns and walks out of the club, letting it go.

He bums a cigarette from someone pretty and soon enough Sirius is covered in their equally pretty lipstick. As he gets pinned up against the wall,  Sirius waits to disappear from his mind. Usually the pleasure of someone else moving against him lets him drown out everything, but he can’t shake the picture of Remus kissing David out of his mind. 

Would it do that to him? Would kissing Remus like this, being kissed by him like that, would it finally shut his mind up? Why was he thinking about this now? Why isn’t he just-

“You alright?” 

His snogging partner, who was called Angus, has concern in their eyes. Sirius realizes how tense he is. 

“Yeah. Erm. Sorry, I think I should head home.”

The sentence surprises him even as he says it. For their part Angus offers him a friendly smile and says no worries before returning to their group of friends. Sirius still has the cigarette, tucked behind his ear and he sticks it in his mouth as he pushes past the gate and onto the sidewalk. He pulls his wand out of his boot and lights the end, sobering a little more with each step home. 

Sirius keeps trying to clear his head, but it’s not working. When he gets to their street, he keeps going towards the corner store at the end of the block, buying a pack of cigarettes with tomorrow’s lunch money. He keeps walking after that, the air is quiet and cold, and Sirius warms himself from the inside with each cigarette. 

As he fishes the pack back out for his third one, he touches the phone Remus always insisted he keep for emergencies. Something tells him to check it and he smiles despite himself when he sees Remus’s name on the small screen. He stares at the message for a moment before quickly responding.

From Sirius Black

I see it 🍌🥕🥒🍐🥝 🍅 🍆 🥑 I’d say dont do anything I wouldn’t do but that’s terrible advice. have fun moons, cant wait to hear about it

He stares at the end of the sentence. Is that weird to say? Since when does he worry that Remus will take something the wrong way.

Dancin’ On My Own || Wolfstar

Remus rolls his eyes, stifling a smile at Sirius’ sarcastic little wave. He’s such a prick and Remus is so very fond of him. He considers the position he’s in (pressed against quite a few swaying, grinding bodies, but mostly David’s, whose hand is a pleasant weight on his waist) and gives his friend a shrug which he hopes conveys ‘I’m not sure what’s happening, but I’m gonna see where it goes’. Perhaps both of them will end up leaving with someone, after all. Wouldn’t that be convenient?

Except Sirius doesn’t really make any further attempts at achieving his self-proclaimed goal. Well- to most people it would probably seem he’s his usual flirty self, but Remus can tell his heart isn’t in it. It’s hard to pay attention to it, though, given how dark it is and how nice it feels when David keeps dancing with him. Not when they end up buying each other quite a few drinks, until Remus’ vision is pleasantly blurry around the edges. The music’s loud and the lights are flashing and the Pink Cauldron really gets quite steamy at this hour because there’s people making out or straight up humping each other everywhere Remus looks.

Not Sirius, though, who he spots talking to someone at the bar a while later. As though he feels it, Sirius glances over in Remus’ general direction and raises his drink. Remus smiles at him, and turns to let David know that he’ll be right back, just as the other man also turns towards him. Suddenly they’re close enough for Remus to feel a surprised puff of breath hit his cheek and then he’s being kissed, quite thoroughly. 

It’s nice, all things considered. David isn’t a bad kisser- in fact Remus would say he’s quite skilled at it. It’s easy to get lost in it for a bit, especially since he’s firmly on his way to drunk. It’s really quite easy to get lost in being desired like this, being part of this crowd of shamelessly sexual individuals. He hopes he gives as good as he gets and makes a point of teasingly slipping a hand just under the hem of David’s henley.

Eventually, they come up for air, smiling at each other a little stupidly, and David excuses himself to go smoke. Remus offers to get them some more drinks and then he’s at the bar, leaning over it just behind where Sirius is standing.

“Hi- hey,” he says cheerfully, resting his chin on Sirius shoulder, leaning on him a bit harder than originally intended, but Sirius is sturdy. “Hows the uh- the thing. Your… the quest! How’s the quest?” he says, “D’you want a drink? I’m getting us drinks.” He has the vague sense he’s probably spending a few more quid than he really should, but he can’t really be worried about anything right now. “You’re sturdy,” he adds, feeling like it’s important to mention.

Sirius feels his entire body stiffen as Remus  seems to make sure Sirius is watching before he gets his face snogged off. Sirius scoffs out loud at the thought of it, annoyed that he’d even gone there. Still, he can’t stop himself from watching, hating himself a bit for it. Finally, he turns his gaze away after Remus wraps himself even further around his dance partner. Sirius feels his jaw lock which is good because he also wants to scream and he figures they’ll balance each other out. 

The weight of Remus’s head on his shoulder release’s Sirius’s smile like a spring trap. He listens to the excited rise and fall of his voice and is quite amused at Remus’s own self-amusement.

“Kind of you to notice, Moony. Rare form for me.”

Remus grins a bit sloppily at him and Sirius wants to be annoyed, but its impossible. 

“I’m good on the drink, switched to coffee, gotta stay sturdy.”

“Practical.” Remus says before finally pulling away to order. Sirius is forming a quip back about his quest being sabotaged by his tart of a wingman, but there’s something about how Remus is holding himself that gives Sirius pause. 

When was the last time he’d seen Remus smiling this much? This easily? The fact that he even had to think about it makes Sirius mad at himself for even feeling anything close to jealousy. He takes a deep breath and tries to let it go-it half works, mostly because Remus is so close that all Sirius can really smell is him. 

“Looks good on you, Moony.”

“What? The eyeliner?”

Remus does a weird sort of flourish that Sirius thinks is supposed to be an impression of himself. 

“No, you twit.” Sirius says, laughing. “Fun. Letting your hair down. Whatever.” 

Sirius reaches forward and tugs on one of the curls closest to Remus’s face and smiles at him. 

“You look good.”

Sirius releases his hair and moves his hand to rest on Remus’s shoulder. 

“My quest is on hold until further notice, mate. I’ll be here until you don’t need me.”

Sirius notices David making his way through the crowd and jerks his head towards him.

“Go on then, he looks thirsty. Just-” 

Sirius shouldn’t worry about him. Sirius has seen Remus hold his own time and time again, plus he continued to be the smartest person Sirius had ever met. Maybe Sirius didn’t deserve to feel protective over him, but he can’t help it. He subconsciously touches his hip with his moon phase tattoo with one hand and pokes the back of Remus’s hand with the other.

Dancin’ On My Own || Wolfstar

Remus stares after his best friends back as he disappears into the crowd and huffs, before making his way over to the bar. “Come with me, Moony. Be my wingman, Moony,” he mutters to himself, “Let me just immediately abandon you, Moony.” A butch looking woman with a mohawk at the bar gives him a concerned look and he smiles at her apologetically, before getting himself in check and ordering two drinks. Either Sirius comes back and he’ll look like a good friend, or he’ll have two drinks.

He does indeed return and while Remus does feel bad for his run-in with Fabian, that’s mostly because he can’t stand the prick, himself, either. “If you’d paid better attention in history of magic you’d known that omens-” he starts, mostly to annoy Sirius into being in a better mood, before they’re approached.

If he hadn’t been talking he’d surely have choked on his drink. “Oh,” he says, stupidly, staring at the man. He’s about Remus’ height, though broader, with curly brown hair that falls to his shoulders. He’s handsome.

“Was wondering what you were doing by yourself with two drinks and if you fancied a dance,” handsome says, “Unless you’re- occupied.” The man glances at Sirius and- well, Remus isn’t occupied, is he?

“No,” he finds himself saying, not daring to look at Sirius’ face beside him, “I’d love to,” and takes the hand that the stranger extends to him. He’s swiftly pulled away from the bar and into the crowd. It’s not new, he’s not a virgin, he’s been grinded on before. He’s been wanted before. It’s just a surprising turn of events, what with Sirius so obviously on the prowl.

There’s a part of him that feels bad, despite the knowledge that Sirius doesn’t actually need him as a wingman, but there’s a spiteful part of him that feels quite satisfied after having been left to his devices immediately. Mostly Remus is kind of really enjoying the dance and the attention of the handsome stranger.

“What’s your name,” he manages to half-shout into his ear. “David!” he hears back and responds, “Remus!” Being this close allows Remus to peek over his shoulder and to, against all odds, make eye-contact with Sirius, still standing at the bar, as David takes the opportunity do dance right up against the front of him.

Sirius had heard that people can get stunned into silence but it’s the first time he remembers experiencing such phenomena. He’s able to shake out of it after a moment, turning just enough to watch as Remus gets pulled away. Sirius  chuckles to no one as he feels color burn onto his face. 

“Come on.” He mumbles to himself, downing his drink and wincing when he tastes the diet cola. Is he so pathetic that he’s jealous that Remus got asked to dance? That guy wasn’t even that hot, there were dozens more around him that Sirius could dance with, was he that shallow? He watches Remus lean forward and say something to the other man and suddenly Sirius wants to be that shallow. The jealousy twists in his stomach like a knife as he’s overcome with the longing to be the one Remus is pressing up against. 

Remus catches his eye suddenly, and Sirius feels his blush deepen as he’s caught staring. There’s no way to pretend like he wasn’t, but he can at least pretend like he wasn’t trying to set Remus’s dance partner on fire with his eyes. 

Sirius decides right then that the night can go two ways; he can be a good friend, or he can be a shit friend. And Remus has had too many nights that went down the later path. Remus deserves to dance with someone who isn’t too much of a fucking coward to ask; even if watching a stranger’s arm snake around Remus’s waist makes Sirius want to bite somebody. 

Sirius waggles his fingers in what he hopes is a semi-sarcastic wave, but makes a show of mouthing “You good?” before he crosses his arms across his chest.

Alphard shrugged.  “Do you want it to be a bigger deal?” he asked, a little confused in that moment as he watched his nephew carefully.  

“I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a little upsetting, but you did it on your own time, when you felt safe and comfortable enough.  What matters is that you told me of your own volition and that our trust is still there.”

“Well uh..” Sirius puts his drink down and sighs. “Seems silly now but if I’d told you and you hadn’t...I’d be on my own, you know? So I was...” 

He looks away, studying a stain on the corner of the carpet. 

“Afraid, I think. And no it doesn’t have to be a bigger deal, I just uh-”

Dancin’ On My Own || Wolfstar

Here’s the thing. Sirius is the hot one. Always has been, probably always will be. Remus knows he’s not bad-looking, if you disregard the scars, but he’s not- well… Leather pants and open shirts and kohl-rimmed eyes and a no-fucks attitude. He’s okay with that. He’s also very okay with Sirius being hot but that’s an entirely different conversation he shouldn’t have when the object of most of his teenage fantasies is currently centimeters from his own face, cradling the back of his head and ever so gently applying liner to his eyes. He swallows and stiffly sits through the process.

Looking in the mirror, though, he catches a glimpse of himself and appreciates, perhaps for the first time, a little bit of that Sirius allure on himself. The liner brings out the shape of his eyes and gives him something of an air of mystery.

“I like it,” he says, smiling at Sirius. His lips look a little sticky from the schnapps and Remus quickly has to look away. “Maybe you should wingman me,” he jokes. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d followed in Sirius drunken-hookup footsteps, though he always avoided the dark and handsome types carefully.

He’s not sure when Sirius left the room, but he follows him out to the living room.  “You ready to go then, Pads?” He’s assuming they’ll probably apparate there and he’ll walk home, when Sirius inevitably leaves with someone else. It’s fine, Pink’s not too far from their apartment and drunk apparating is just asking for trouble. He holds out his arm, since Sirius is a few shots in and Remus is the better apparator out of the two of them, anyway.

The music is already pounding through the door when they arrive in the alley adjecent to the Pink Cauldron. A few smokers have gathered at the corner and observe the two of them with casual interest. He gestures at Sirius to go ahead. “Your chariot to hookup town awaits, my good sir Padfoot.”

Sirius rolls his eyes and claps Remus on the shoulder as he passes.

“If you keep talking like that, we’re going to end up going home alone, Moony. “ Sirius turns around and grins at him as he walks up the steps backwards. 

“Come on, you shouldn’t waste looking like that on this lot.” 

He heads to the dance floor not checking to see if Remus is following, and quickly gets pulled to grind against someone to the bass of a pop song he hated on all nights except ones like this.

The song ends and Sirius turns to meet his partner face to face, snorting with annoyance when he recognizes him as Fabian, a sort of ex-the sort of being because they didn’t so much as date as they spent three months fucking each other in between fights. 

“Not a chance.” Sirius hisses before escaping through the crowd to the bar. He finds Remus standing against it, watching the crowd with two drinks in hand. 

“Thanks.” Sirius says as he takes the fuller one.

“Who said it was for you?” 

“Saw Fabian.” Sirius says in response. “Hope it’s not an omen, then I’d have to start believing in them.” He notices movement on the other side of Remus, and the movement is attached to a very handsome man, Sirius nudges Remus and jerks his head towards the newcomer, using the opportunity to extend his arm so his palm rests on the bar beside him, leaning in just a bit closer. 

It works. The man looks between the two of them before speaking.

“Are you two together?”

“Nope.” Sirius says. The man catches Sirius’s eye and smiles softly.

remus-mxxny​:​

It’s only years and years of spending time in Sirius’ company that keeps him from completely short-circuiting. It’s reflex, at this point, to squash the desire to push him up agianst the nearest wall and help out. 

“Ah,” he says, instead, “Don’t suppose I get a choice in the matter?” He doesn’t really expect an answer. It’s fine, even. He’s got a bit of time to finish up on a few online quizzes and get a bite to eat and maybe get his hair in some kind of order. It’s a friday, even, which is not always a given with Sirius. 

He doesn’t, in fact, manage to get his hair in order, but in the right light it looks artfully tousled, so he gives it a pass. 

“Where are we going, even?” he asks, when he steps out of the bathroom. Sirius looks- fucking ready, is what he looks like. He runs his finger over the edge of his trousers, self-counsciously, and pulls at his jacket, which he really doesn’t fill out quite as well as Sirius does. “Our usuals, I assume, since James’ tragically straight arse isn’t around?”

Sirius grins. 

“Indeed. I’m feeling particularly slaggish so lets skip work and go straight to Pink’s.”

The Pink Cauldron was a nightclub for queer wizards and it had the worst reputation, making it the perfect place for Sirius to fufill his quest. 

He crosses into the bathroom and crowds Remus out of the mirror, taking stock of himself; white poet shirt over nearly skin tight leather trousers that showed off his ass. His stag antler earring surrounded by small silver hoops and his shirt is cut in a way that the Devil’s snare vines he has tattooed along his collarbones are on full display. He’d found one of the many necklaces he always picked up whenever Remus dragged him along to the charity shops and he fixes it so the eye on the medalion is facing out and resting against his bare chest. Sirius sees Remus fidget more with the hem of his shirt and he catches his eye in the mirror.

“You look nice, Moony.” That earns him a small smile and Sirius digs in the drawer for his eyeliner pencil, only covering his bottom lid but overdoing it because, well, he’s Sirius. “Handsome, some might say.”

Remus snorts and Sirius turns to him, still weilding the eyeliner. They’re in each other’s space, because they always were, but Sirius keeps noticing it, which is distracting and annoying. It was unspoken that they weren’t ever going to cross that line-unspoken because Sirius was certain that crossing it had never even crossed Remus’s mind. And even if he had...well, Sirius knew what Remus needed, and it was pretty much the opposite of everything he was. Someone who was smart, could keep up with him, someone who didn’t come with thousands of pounds of baggage and mommy issues and anger he couldn’t ever quite quash. Someone who didn’t need to stick his tongue down the throats of strangers just to feel alive. 

Sirius fixes the bottom of Remus’s jacket and the idea strikes.

“Humor me for a moment?”

“Isn’t that what I’m already doing?”

Sirius snorts and raises the pencil to eye level. “Let me?”

Remus makes a noise of unsuredness and Sirius chuckles. “You can wipe it off if you hate it.”

“Fine.”

Pleased to have worn Remus down as if he doesn’t always go along with his schemes, Sirius very carefully starts to swipe the makeup under his left eye. To keep him steady, instinctively, Sirius’s other hand cups the back of Remus’s head, releasing him only when he’s finished. 

“There.” He says with a flourish, graciously stepping back out of the bathroom so Remus can have the mirror. Sirius studies his profile and ignores the jump in his heart.

“Believe me yet? Handsome.” Sirius says, summoning over a bottle of Peach Schanps and does a quick shot-he’s going to have be pretty drunk to handle Remus looking as good as he does and not being able to do a thing about it. He hands the bottle to Remus.

The front door opens and Sirius scrambles to his feet-Remus had insisted on taking the tube home today, so he and Grim had been cooped up inside, bored, waiting. Grim is on his heels resulting in both of them crowding Remus the second he got in the door like the pair of dogs they are.

“I have a problem.” Sirius says in lieu of a greeting. Remus rolls his eyes at him as he’s taking off his scarf.

“Which is?”

“No one has kissed me in nearly two weeks. Think you can help me out with that?”

Remus’s eyes widen as he stares at him.

“How?” 

His voice is odd, Sirius isn’t sure what he’d said, he tilts his head to the side in confusion as he elaborates.

“I need a wing man. We’re going out. Be ready in ten, yeah?”

He grins at Remus before sauntering off towards his bedroom to get changed.

“Stop hoggin’ it,” he accuses, sounding ever so slightly more Northern than he has in a while. It tends to come out when he’s tipsy or otherwise inebriated. He picks the joint from Sirius’ fingers, trying not to move too much or too quickly for Grimm’s sake while also desperately trying not to think too much about the ever so slightly moist bit of skin on his hand, while also doing his best to ignore the memory of shotgun kisses at a party in seventh year. 

It doesn’t take very long for his body to relax into the couch and for his mind to slow it’s three-lane carcrash of a thought process to a more managable stream of counsciousness. He’s mellow enough to pull his arm out from in between them, which means Sirius basically ends up on his chest with Remus’ arm around him, but it’s- casual enough. Probably. 

Remus sits up a bit at Sirius’ story- confession? Well, it’s not like he didn’t know. 

“’S fucked up, Pads,” he says, eventually, “Selling other people shit so we can buy ourselves more of the same shit.” It’s not the most eloquent he’s ever been. Sue him. “Don’t want you getting caught,” he mumbles, as he turns his head and kind of ends up with his face in Sirius’ hair. It smells of smoke, and a bit of pub, and a bit of motorbike. “Or getting hurt.” Even if there’s a small, pleased part of him that’s a little bit thrilled at by it. It’s a part of him that feels very… wolfish in the most non-werewolfy way. 

He passes the joint back to to Sirius and laughs at Grimm’s haughty retreat to his armchair. “It sounds good though,” he assures his friend, “Almost too good to be true, can’t pass it up good. If she-” he hesitates, “If she’s still interested in a contact at campus… I could spread the word?” It’s not like he’d be getting people into drugs. Just providing them to people who already partake. He’s kind of acquaintanced with a few popular-adjacents, by virtue of being quiet and having handsome friends show up by motorbike or vintage car. 

They’re quiet for a bit, just passing the weed back and forth until it’s a stub, before Sirius brings up what happened at the bar.  “It wasn’t even the guy,” Remus says, choosing his words carefully, to make it very clear none of it is Sirius’ fault, “Just- anger in the air, you know? You could cut it with a knife. And-” he chuckles, “You’re- the- you’re pack. Don’t fucking laugh at me, it’s not like I pick and choose the stupid instincts.” Remus takes the last hit off the blunt and sits up a bit to reach for the ashtray.  “Your fight is my fight, you know?” he says to the coffee table, “Except I got a blood curse going that overdoses me on adrenaline.”

“Mmm, my mine’s just an issue with my personality.” Sirius looks sideways at him and smiles when he catches Remus’s eyes. “My instincts are far, far stupider sorry to break the bad news.”

Remus shifting wakes him up a little bit and Sirius realizes he probably shouldn’t fall asleep on his best friend’s chest in their living room. He sits up and stretches, his cold feet touching the colder floor. 

“I’ll be careful, Moony.” He says, meaning it. The fact that Remus’s scope of careful is vastly different than his own non withstanding. Sirius stands and offers him his hands, pulling him up off the couch with some effort.

“Come on, I’ve got to walk the git you’ve got a hot date with the tub. “

At the sound of the “W” word, Grimm launches himself off the couch and trots after Sirius towards where they keep his leash. Sirius glances back over towards the couch, trying and failing not to stare as Remus takes his jumper off. The scars on the side of his chest look brighter in this low light, and Sirius absently wonders what would happen if he traced each of them. 

“Moons.”

“Hmm?”

The light catches Remus in a way that isn’t fair, really, to someone who is desperately trying to convince themselves that they only want to stay friends. 

“I’m glad you’re here.”

Alphard’s smile faded slightly.  “Sorry, kid,” he replied genuinely.  He still had his suspicions about his nephew and Remus, but knew now that was the wrong thing to ask.  He walked back over to the liquor cubpoard and grabbed the slightly cheaper whiskey before pouring anothe for him.

After a long pause, he looked at Sirius and squeezed his shoulder.  “Why wouldn’t I be okay with this?” he asked slowly.  “This changes nothing.  Unless your entire personality changed in the last few minutes, you’re still the same person, the same nephew that I would do anything for.”

“Dunno.” He say ase tries the whiskey again.

“I was just prepared for it to be....a bigger deal?” 

Like it would’ve been at home, he finishes in his mind. Sirius can’t even fathom broaching this subject with his parents. 

“Oh fuck, that sounds great right about now actually,” he groans, as he sits up on the couch and reaches for the baggie, ignoring the way his oversensitive skin buzzes at the touch of their fingers, “I’ll roll us some-”  He glances at Sirius, smiling, “-if you should like to partake, that is, good sir Padfoot.” 

He sighs at Sirius’ suggestion, “We don’t have to, Pads, this shit already cost us all your tips last month and then some. It’s fine, honestly.” The potion had done its job during the full moon. “It’s just a few side symptoms. I’ll live.” 

There’s a part of Remus that really wants to adress the fact that Sirius drives a death trap every single day, as evidenced by the accident that grated his skin off of him, but they’ve had that argument. Well, they’ve bickered about it, anyway. Many times. Much the same way they’ve bickered about his own habits. 

“A bath sounds great,” he says, as he fidgets with the paper for the joints, “In a bit.” He watches the tenseness in Sirius’ face and shoulders and moves himself to a corner of their couch, “Sit with me? We’re home. I’m okay. Nobody needs punching right this second. You might as well, aye?” 

It’s a bit.. strange how intimate it feels when Sirius’ weight dips the couch next to him. They exist in the same space, sure. All the time, really, they’re hardly ever away from each other. They just usually- well, they gravitate a bit more. SIrius’ll be on the couch, while Remus does his coursework at the kitchen counter. Or he’ll sit by the window while Sirius paints on the floor. Now, though, the entirety of Remus’ left side is pressed against Sirius’ and he’s selfish enough not to mind it one bit. 

Sirius settles on the couch next to Remus, he starts to grumble but is interuppted by the sound of a collar jangling.

“Decided to wake up and face the day, you nervous git?”

Grimm, their black rescue greyhound, trots out of Sirius’s room and comes to make the rounds, getting scratched by Sirius, sniffing Remus and then going to investigate the kitchen for food.  

Sirius sighs, relaxing a little even just smelling the weed as Remus lights up. 

“Gimme.”

“I’m sure there’s a ‘please’ in there.”

Remus holds the joint out for him and, because he’s annoying and has several problems, Sirius takes it with his teeth. He realizes his mistake as soon as his bottom lip brushes Remus’s hand but he chuckles as if it was on purpose, as if he’s not electrocuted by the contact. He takes the joint, satisfied, and settles back against the couch, smoking.

“What?” He asks Remus, unable to read his look. He sucks in deeply on the joint, closing his eyes and hollowing his cheeks.

“You’re annoying.”

Sirius grins at him and, deciding to go all in, leans forward and puts the joint back in Remus’s mouth. He blows the smoke in his direction before speaking. 

“You like it.”

“Hmm.”

The weed hits him almost instantly, relaxing muscles he doesn’t know how de-tense when he’s sober. He shuffles around on the couch, letting his head fall onto Remus’s shoulder as he whistles for Grimm. The dog jumps up onto him, curling mostly around Sirius but resting his nose on Remus’s lap-he didn’t trust Remus fully yet without Sirius, but since they adopted him six months ago, the Werewolf smell wasn’t bothering him any longer. Or he trusted Padfoot enough to trust Remus-Sirius wasn’t going to question it. Grimm is one of the weirdest dogs he’d ever met-if he didn’t know any better and done the revelio charms, he’d think he was a human disguised as a dog. Grimm has two modes: fast and barely awake, but he is nervous regardless of the circumstance-as soon as Sirius gets up and starts to walk around Grimm will be on his heels. 

“Mmm you’re warm, Moony. Feels nice, the two idiot dogs you live with apperciate it.” He takes the joint back and blows the smoke out through his teeth, aiming it up towards the ceiling.

“Don’t worry about the money, yeah? Birdie uh, found out about the side business and well...”

Sirius lifts his head and pokes the side of Remus’s cheek until he looks at him. They’re close-just how he likes it. Weed always gets him so close to trouble-it makes him much more touchy, which, with anyone other than Remus, usually leads to stoned sex. 

He needs to stop thinking about sex-he instead thinks about James throwing up on his shoes two weekends ago and then-

“You going to finish that thought, Pads?”

He grins. “Sorry, it’s like I’m stoned or somethin’. But yeah-don’t get mad or anything cause it’s already done. But she said if I do what I’m already doing but I do it for her too, or like dunno, might be exclusive at some point? Anyway, I get a 20% base discount and 40% if I exceed the numbers she wants for...doesn’t matter. It’s very doable. And I did it mostly for weed, so don’t start thinking that I like you or anything...but” 

He deflates again, sagging against Remus. Grimm is annoyed by his fidgeting and moves to the big arm chair that only he uses. 

Sirius smiles at his best friend. “That brings the price way down, Moony. If she keeps liking me she might even give me her recipe and then...” 

He doesn’t finish the thought, just settles against Remus and closes his eyes; relaxed isn’t a state Sirius settles into easily, it goes against all of his instincts-both his natural and his learned from growing up where he did. The day flashes before him in the brief pause, Sirius cringes to himself as he remembers-Remus got overwhelmed because of him, he should know better.

Alphard smiled and shook his head.  “I won’t tell you then,” he teased lightly as he went to the alcohol cupboard and pulled out his finest whiskey before pouring a double for himself and a single for his nephew.

“Cheers, Sirius,” he smiled, sipping it slowly.  As Sirius knocked it back, he shook his head and poured him another.  ‘This is sipping whiskey, I can pull out the cheaper stuff if you want to get drunk.”  He wasn’t talking down to him at all, or at least he wasn’t trying to.  The cheaper whiskey he had still was fairly expensive in the grand scheme of things.

“So is it Remus or James?  I have my suspicions…” he added with a wry smile.

Alphard always had a feeling about Remus and Sirius, but wasn’t about to say a thing about it unless Sirius brought it up.

“It all tastes the same to me.” Sirius says, but he sips as he’s told, which is good considering he almost immidately sputters most the liquid out and flushes bright red at his Uncle’s question.

“Erm.....” 

He suddenly becomes very interested in the floor. 

“Neither....uh, yet. But James uh-is very straight. So...” 

He swigs the whiskey and grimmaces, chancing a glance at his uncle and regretting it. 

“Don’t-I mean, I haven’t you know, asked him or anything yet, it’s....yeah.”  He finishes lamely. 

“Not the kind of questions I was thinking.” He mumbles, surprised about how shy he feels. He pauses, glancing up at Al again.

Alphard stared at him for a few moments, perhaps a moment too long.  An odd feeling ran through him, a mix of relief and worry.  He knew that things were different now than when he grew up, but he also knew that there were still people out there that could target his newphew simply for who he loved.  

Slowly, the man got up and walked over toward Sirius before wrapping his arms around him in a hug.  “You never have to hide around me,” he replied truthfully.  He hoped that Sirius understood that much at least.  Sirius was one of the few people that Alphard relaxed around.  Sirius was the only member of his family to meet his almost partner.  Sirius was his only family.  Period.

He refused to let go of Sirius until Sirius wanted the hug to break.  He knew that this was a big moment in a gay person’s life, and Alphard was thankful that Sirius felt he could come out to him.  Once Sirius moved out of the hug, Alphard let him go.  He wasn’t quite sure what to say, even though he often volunteered at the LGBT+ center in town.  Everyone was different in how they wanted their coming out to go and Alphard could only hope that he was giving Sirius what he needed in that moment.  “You know I’ll love you no matter who you prefer… as long as they treat you well, I’ll be happy.”

Alphard was never more thankful that Sirius got out of that hellscape of a home when he did.  Walburga was the one that outed him to his family; she was the one that turned his life into a living hell for literal years.  He only truly found freedom again when he took Sirius in and was blasted off the damn tree with him.    “Now, let’s go have some tea…. or whiskey.  I can even break out the good stuff.”

“No idea where my flair for dramatics comes from.” Sirius says, smiling with just a hair of uncertainty.

Of course it wasnt going to be a big deal. Why was he still bracing for impact?

“Whiskey.” He says, his lopsided grin growing when the glasses appear before them. 

“Cheers, Uncle Al.” Sirius says once he’s handed his glass, knocking it back smoothly. The energy between his fingers relaxes a little, an effect of booze he probably shouldn’t like as much as he does. 

“You seriously have no questions for me?”

“Hmm, tomorrow,” he repeats, pulling his eyes away from the damned waxing gibbous. “And the day after that,” he says, as he opens the door. He’s set to keep going - he’s feeling particularly self-pitying at the moment - but the pressure of Sirius’ hand at his back effectively stops him from spiralling. 

“One day, I’ll write a thinly-veiled war allegory on my fight with the moon, probably in meter, with extensive metaphors regarding transformation,” says Remus, in his most pompous voice, as they make the climb to the flat, “To be published post-humously, of course.”

Sirius, bless him, remains mostly on task. “Tea’d be great, ta,” he nods, “Bit of honey for the throat, if you wouldn’t mind?”

He’d help, normally, he really would. He’d bump Sirius out of the way to grab their mugs, squabble with him about boiling the water in the kettle instead of with magic, ask where the biscuits went- all that. 

As it stands, he sheds his jacket, pulls off his sweatshirt and flops down on the couch with great satisfaction. He only deigns to turn to eat the bar of chocolate, which is a relief to his system and he may or may not moan obscenely at the reprieve. 

“Fucking hell, I’m not sure our new Wolfsbane supplier’s up to standard,” Remus sighs, eventually, “It hasn’t been this bad in a long time.”

“Kept some joints for you too.” Sirius says, frowning as he studies Remus’s face. At the mention of that, he fishes the cannabis and all the tips he’d earned-bartending that night and dealing earlier in the day, and places them in the moon shaped jar they keep behind their liquor bottles. 

“If I keep going like this next week, mate, we can try that different batch Birdie was talking about. “

It was twice as expensive, of course, but supposedly more effective. Sirius stirs sugar into their tea. 

“I’ve got some of that muscle tonic left over from when I got caught on that gravel with the bike.”

That’s how he referred to his ridiculous bike accident from a few months ago. He’d walked away with a scrape but had needed three months to properly get the bike up to snuff again. He was sore for a few days, and Remus had insisted he go get checked out. All they gave him was a lecture and a minor relaxation tonic.

“It doesn’t mess with your head, promise. Well, no more than weed. And it helped. Know that’s probably a drop in the bucket but...” Sirius summons it and swishes the liquid inside around while looking at Remus. 

“Or you could do a bath with this-or not just...” 

Sirius sets his jaw.