A/N: This was written for the rsgames 2015. The theme was all about stars,space,astronomy,and whatever falls within space and stars.I've taken lots of liberties with the fantasy theme, like a lot! I used an online calculator and it seems that 'The Capella star' is just one of the possible star under which Remus may have been born. A boatload of thanks to my beta LuminousGloom for not just the wonderful SpaG check and Britpicking but also for cheering me on! You're the best!
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Slight angst, canonical death, frottage, slight hint of bondage.
Genres:Fluff,friendship,angst,romance
Prompt: "We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars." - from Lady Windermere's Fan by Oscar Wilde

Lone-li-ness. A three syllable word that nudges at his chest, seeps into his skin, fills him up from the pit of his stomach before it overflows and he chokes on it. It is a horrible feeling that pushes his head back against the ground and shrouds him with promises of more misery. The dusty clearing he is in is a small haven, little ways from his uncle's house.

Alphard.

Sirius closes his eyes and relaxes the fist his right hand has made. It hasn't always been like this. At one time he had a brother who had been alive and breathing, an uncle who had shown him that it was alright put himself first, parents who had been proud of him as he was and didn't force their unfulfilled expectations of a dead son on him. It seems like that was a long, long time ago.

The lump in his throat hurts as he swallows around the dreadful feeling of abandonment and sheer sadness that Alphard's death has caused. He can't cry, doesn't know how to go back to being his usual self if he lets his tears fall with the sound of his anguish for the world to hear; it's all he has ever known. But in this clearing, this open place that has been his and his alone whenever he lived with Alphard, where the city's lights don't reach and the sky is vast with glittering stars, Sirius tries hard to be honest to himself, but finds himself staving off the cries threatening to tear from his lips. He looks up at a blurred night sky to see a lone star falling.

"Wish upon that star, you two. Come on, now." Alphard used to tell him and Regulus when they were too young to know sadness, both of their hands held in his warm ones. If he prays hard enough will it bring back his uncle? Will it stop him from being so alone?

If things like that happened, eighty percent of the world's inhabitants would probably be on cloud nine throughout the year. Even as Sirius finds himself smiling sardonically, his chest clenches as the star plunges into darkness and he ends up wishing, trying not to hope, that someone needs him tonight.

It's the soft gasp and the scent of all male from above Sirius that makes him open his eyes groggily—he must have fallen asleep—to a face looming over him. Sirius blinks rapidly as he stares at the shadowed face above his. What in the world? Had this person just appeared out of nowhere? If he happens to be some punk looking to mug him, he is in for some serious disappointment; he doesn't have anything at all anymore.

"What?" Sirius asks wearily when he has had enough of the young boy staring at him, wide-eyed and silent. He has the strangest eyes, hues of purples within the brown iris with an otherworldly shine. It must be some kind of lens, Sirius thinks vaguely even as he comes to the conclusion that he is either dreaming or this person must be a figment of his imagination. He really hopes it isn't the latter.

"Why are you crying?" Sirius almost doesn't hear it, the question asked so softly that it would have been lost had they not been so close.

"What?" Sirius asks in confusion and his eyes widen when the boy touches his fingertips to his cheek. Skin. Touch. The contact is cold and slightly clammy but it is the first human touch he has had in days, and Sirius involuntarily raises his chin as the boy pulls his hand back and turns it to show the wetness glistening on his fingertips. No way…

"I—I'm—huh," Sirius manages in surprise and averts his face to the side. He needs to wake up fast or it will be so very difficult to face the lonely reality waiting for him.

"Is something wrong?" The boy asks and Sirius swallows at the concern in the voice; as if the boy cares. If Sirius could put everything that is 'wrong' into words they would fill pages and pages so he just comes out with the one weighing most heavily upon him at present.

"…alone. I'm just so damn lonely. It's too hard," he whispers harshly and bites the inside of his cheeks. It's kind of like how he talks to himself on dark nights when the going gets tough and it has always helped Sirius cope, it should do the trick now. What he doesn't expect is the boy's answering touch on his hand that is resting on his chest.

"Then—" he lowers his gaze before looking straight into Sirius' eyes, searching as if he wants to know everything going on in Sirius' head and he is surprised to see the purple glow from seconds before gone, "—can I stay with you?"

Can I stay with you? This boy is asking if he can stay with Sirius, as if he needs Sirius?

If he prays and wishes upon a star hard enough, can he make this person real?

"Yes," Sirius answers as he brings up his free hand to rest it on the boy's cold hand on his chest.

Please. If this is real…

The boy's face breaks into the brightest smile Sirius has seen in a while. The strange glow is back.

…let it last.

"Okay. Take me home with you, Sirius."

ooOOoo

On other days, mornings meant the start of school, the anticipation of new pranks to be played on people, rolling eyes at Peter's efforts during class and a multitude of things that Sirius actually enjoys. A week ago, mornings would have begun with Alphard's affectionate admonishments and Sirius pretending to sleep in just for the fun of it.

It takes a few seconds for Sirius to realise that he is still in his room in Alphard's flat and risen early out of habit yet again. Really, Alphard should have been his dad; he would have grown up to be a real good boy. The thought of his uncle—not waiting for him at the breakfast table, reading the day's newspaper, with the last page laid on the sofa so Sirius could solve the crossword puzzle after breakfast—has him tug the spare pillow onto his face, to block out the sunlight peeking through the gaps between the curtains.

The smell of cooking sends Sirius sitting up alertly. What in the world—

A knock sounds at Sirius' door. When it opens, he grabs the lamp from the bed-side table and hurls it with as much force as he can. The mop of brown that has come into view belongs to a face that he actually recognizes. The boy's eyes widen comically and he lets out a shocked sound just before the lamp hits him.

So it hadn't been a dream, after all?

"Shit!" Sirius curses as his legs get tangled within his sheets. "Shit!" he repeats for emphasis and manages to free himself before rushing towards the boy who is now sitting on the threshold of his room, covering his face with a pained moan.

"I thought it was a burglar!" Sirius exclaims as he kneels before the boy, unsure what to do, as the boy doesn't remove his hands from his face. "Oi! Are you all right? Let me look at that for you." It's the least he can do, but the boy pushes away Sirius' hand to reveal a heavily bleeding nose.

"I'b all right. Dob't borry about it," he somehow manages, in that same soft voice Sirius remembers from last night's dream…right.

"You're an idiot," Sirius replies as he frowns at the guy's complacent attitude. His frown deepens when the boy smiles and he is surprised to see that he really does have those strange coloured eyes. That can wait.

"I'll get the first aid box, you just wait here." When he returns the boy is still sitting on the floor with a confused expression.

"I thought it was supposed to hurt when this happens," he says and Sirius is just as perplexed himself; this boy seems slightly, a little bit crazy. He leans closer to the boy's face and pinches the bridge of the pale nose which results in a high-pitched exclamation from the stranger.

"Now it hurts, right? What are you still doing here?" Before the boy can say anything stupid, Sirius sighs heavily. "Don't talk. Just sit down—" he points to his rumpled bed, "and don't move." He is relieved when the boy follows his simple command with a smile. Sirius proceeds to clean up the bloody mess. A shard from the lamp has managed to cut across the boy's right cheekbone. When he is done with a carefully placed Band-Aid he sits back on his heels and takes a good look at the ruffled brown hair, down to the strangely glowing eyes, the thin white shirt over a seemingly thin torso and it hits him.

"I can't believe you're really here," Sirius says in a state of disbelief. "Shit! Did I really say all that stuff last night?" Please, say no. But as Sirius' terrible luck would have it, the boy grins.

"Of course," he replies. Sirius wants to hide somewhere deep underground; no seventeen-year old confesses to things like that. "I don't mind though; he's been pretty lonely too." That gets Sirius' attention.

"He?" Sirius asks and the boy hums as he points towards himself.

"Remus. That's his name."

Sirius waits for more but when there is nothing else he raises an eyebrow. "Huh? Your name's Remus?" he asks for confirmation, not that he needs it; Sirius may be alone but he has no intention of befriending someone who seems to be in desperate need of a psychiatrist. The boy—Remus— is shaking his head.

"I don't have a name, Sirius." He looks at Sirius gently before continuing, "I'm here because you needed me. Remus is just something of a medium, I guess."

Crazy, this guy is absolute bonkers.

"Medium, huh?" Sirius asks trying to sound curious as he stands up to escape and maybe phone for an ambulance or the police or just someone normal. "You into all that psychic stuff?"

"No. I meant a different kind of medium, Sirius. I'll try to make this simple, ok—" Sirius' gaze snaps towards him.

"How do you know my name?" Sirius asks, hint of fear creeping through his voice. It doesn't go unnoticed as the boy raises his hands in a surrendering motion. "Who the hell are you?"

"I told you, I don't have an actual name. I'm a star," the boy replies, sounding annoyed, and then exhales heavily as he eyes Sirius warily. "This might be a bit much for you to take in, but trust me when I say this. Remember that star you wished upon yesterday?—well, not technically a 'star', that's just something you humans—"

"Get out!" Sirius finds himself saying with barely controlled rage. When the Remus boy tries to continue with his idiotic story Sirius grabs his arm in a painful grip.

"Sirius! You're hurting me," The boy finally cries out with a hint of panic in his voice and it grates on Sirius' already frayed nerves, pushes him to a point to which he has been well on his way since his uncle's death, or maybe even before that.

"Shut up!" he bites out, "seriously, stop talking. I can see that you're kidding around but it's not funny."

"Sirius, I'm not—"

"Don't say my name!" Sirius shouts and brings up his free hand to ram a fist or take a strike at that naïve-looking face, but before he can decide which the boy suddenly stiffens then goes limp and staggers into Sirius. Unthinking, Sirius holds him up by the shoulders and shakes the boy to consciousness. Remus groans as if in pain and blinks at Sirius' chest. He raises his shaking hands to place them against Sirius' side, which does strange things to Sirius' insides.

"What's going on?" Remus looks up at Sirius and from this angle he looks down to see that the boy's eyes are not the same anymore. "You're S-Sirius, right?" Holy shit! Sirius pushes the boy away as he stares at the plain, honey-coloured eyes.

"Oh my god, I'm going crazy." Sirius steps back and falls back to sit on his bed as the edge hits the back of his knees. How has it to this? Has Alphard's death hit him that hard?

"I don't think you are." The reply comes from Remus and Sirius looks at him. "But something's definitely going on. There are blanks in my memory." Sirius drops his head into the cradle of his hands.

"Get out of my house, please." Sirius finds that he cannot raise his voice to this wide-eyed version of Remus; somehow he looks fragile.

"I—" Remus looks at Sirius and then sighs in defeat, "—I'm sorry. We don't even know each other and I'm already causing you trouble."

Sirius watches him straighten his shirt and closes his eyes, trying to breathe. The sound of footsteps fades as the other boy makes his way out of the room. Sirius decides to make sure that he leaves without pulling anything else on him; there's only so much he can tolerate.

"You're really going to throw out this poor boy, Sirius?" Tch. Not again. Sure enough, Sirius reaches the main door to see the return of the purple-glow-thingy-eyed Remus standing just outside the main gate.

"Yes," Sirius bites out as he hurries to push the boy out and possibly slam the door on his stupid face. What a tosser.

"Not so different from your parents, after all. Go ahead then," Remus says complacently, "he's only had his heart broken, after all. Not that you care."

Sirius stills with a hand on the handle of the door. "What are you talking about?" Fuck! He really needs to tape his own mouth shut; half the trouble he gets into is because of this idiotic body part. Remus shrugs.

"Oh, the usual, love-life problems." Remus pauses with a glint in his eyes. "His boyfriend decided to break things off to be with a woman—shit!" He looks irritated for a second before his expression changes to one of sorrow. "This is getting really annoying. I'll leave now. Thanks a lot for letting me stay with you yesterday, Sirius." It's the honey-eyed Remus now and before Sirius can do anything, he says a polite good-bye and leaves with hasty steps. Sirius stares at the boy's back in bewilderment before shutting the door mechanically and finds himself in the dining area where a plateful of breakfast sits on the table. A little surprised but thankful to Remus for being such a thoughtful guest even if his head isn't right, he sits down to eat.

The smell of egg causes his stomach to growl and wrinkle his nose in distaste; he hates sunny side up eggs.

Half an hour later Sirius finds himself lying down on one of the sofas, strangely exhausted, mind full of 'Remus' and a cigarette hanging from between his fingers to remove the taste of a perfectly round egg yolk.