Two's company
Summary: Remus has considerable feelings for his best friend, but can Sirius be content with just one guy? Slashy/angsty goodness.
Disclaimer: Don't own anyone, don't own anything. The puppies et al are all wonderful figments of JK Rowling's imagination. I don't even have a penny to my name. So don't bother suing.
Warning: Slash, i.e. guy with guy. Nothing too graphic, but if you don't like slash, don't read! Flames about m/m will only be used to build my impregnable fortress of doom.
A/N: Some final jibber jabber before the actual story. Yes, I'm going to mention this for at least the fourth time – this is SLASH. I like both SB/RL and SB/female & RL/female pairings – as is obvious from my other Marauder fic, 'Lupus, Canis and Gemini'. I know some people don't like SBRL, and I know plenty of people do – but please don't let the Sirius and Remus in this fic affect your judgement of their straight alter-egos in Lupus or vice versa. I'm not entirely sure what I'm getting at here, I think I'm trying to say that those who don't like slash please don't be put off Lupus… and those who do… hopefully enjoy this.
Remus felt as though his heart was about to punch its way out of his ribcage – which was already shaking uncontrollably with suppressed giggles – and his legs ached as he rounded the corner and took the steps up to the ground floor two torturous steps at a time. He skidded across the stone slabs, almost falling over before his outstretched hands found purchase on an available door handle. Regaining his balance Remus silently opened the door and recognising the interior as the musty dark of the spare Quidditch supply room (such a title being the only thing that distinguished the cramped tiny space from a closet) and slunk into the darkness, gently closing the door behind him.
Remus took deep, shuddery breaths of the stale, sweat-and-leather tasting air and tried to calm himself. Unfortunately, this pause allowed him to recall the recently accomplished prank in glorious detail and set him off once more into silent racks of laughter. Sirius and James had really excelled themselves this time. They had finally figured out how to put a delay on a spell so that the results could be viewed some time after contact with the victim had been made, enough time, for example, for the Slytherin population to reach their common room before the potion distributed to their drinks at dinner took effect.
In Remus' opinion the benefit of such a window between cause and effect was that it gave the perpetrators a chance to be somewhere else entirely – ideally somewhere where the words "What did I do?" and "I don't know what you're talking about," might hold more water. But of course, Sirius and James just had to admire their handiwork, so the four Gryffindors had sneaked down to the Slytherin common room. Not all of the boys could fit under James' invisibility cloak so, much to Remus' relief, he and Peter were left to lurk in the corridor and observe the proceedings through one of James' mirrors while he and Sirius invaded enemy territory along with the cloak and corresponding mirror.
A risky venture – but Remus accepted that today was a special one for many reasons. Firstly, the gradual effect of the hex was the result of many months of hard graft and effort, and was, if not the Holy Grail, then at least the Ark of the Covenant of Marauding achievements to date. The prank itself was one of the more subtle yet complex they had designed; the spell itself had been invented by the boys and demanded all the intellect of James, the inspiration of Sirius, the research and perseverance of Remus and – Remus sought fairly for a contribution from the fourth Marauder – all the encouragement of Peter. For all the work it had required the premise of the prank was a simple one and much less audacious than many other of the tricks played in their long-running and expansive record. It had all started with an idle threat from Sirius after a group of Slytherins from his brother's year had made some stinging comments regarding his family and the disappointment that Sirius embodied. It had taken both James and Remus to hold Sirius back and prevent serious blood loss from the offending smirking fifth years.
"I'll make them eat their own filthy words," growled Sirius, ripping apart a Slytherin scarf (Remus did not dare enquire from whom he had stolen it) and feeding the green skin to the roaring Gryffindor fire. The following silence was burdened and solemn.
"We could, you know." James' tone was hesitant, but his expression was the same thoughtful one he adopted whenever he was concocting a plan that would get them into trouble.
"What?" Sirius' voice was no more than a grunt.
"We could make them eat their words - if you wanted to." Suggested James, his voice picking up momentum and enthusiasm as Sirius' ears pricked up. "Some sort of spell that would make their words visible, then they could eat them."
"They'd have to be real, too, it'd involve creating something substantial, something that can be touched," Sirius caught James' excitement.
"It would take some time to do," Remus interjected, "I don't think there's an existing spell for something like this."
"You up for a challenge Padfoot?" James asked.
Sirius nodded eagerly, the rest of the now tattered scarf forgotten. James turned to Peter, who agreed instantly; his vote permanently placed in the 'What James Wants' category.
"Remus?" All eyes turned to him expectantly. How could he refuse? How could he refuse those pleading grey eyes staring out in mock entreaty from under that shaggy black fringe?
"What do you need me to do?" he said, as wearily as he could while enjoying the brief smile Sirius allotted to him for his agreement.
"Moony old boy!" exclaimed James in horror, holding his hands in the air in defence. "Why, we would only ask of your company, nothing more!"
"Really?" Remus raised a questioning eyebrow. James and Sirius may have the greatest brains in Hogwarts, but their planning left much to be desired. "Alright, you'll probably have to create individual spells for each word uttered, unless you wanted the same letters appearing over and over again, it'll have to be tailored to each sound. There may be a way of creating one spell to distinguish between each phrase uttered, but it'll take a lot of effort to create. The words themselves – do you want them like smoke or solid? I imagine you're thinking of floating words, so maybe some sort of bubbles, but they'll not hold their shape. I can think of a few books in the library that'll help us out with that, but I've not even gone on to who, when and where this is going to affect, and so how we'll initiate the prank."
"Merlin," sighed Peter in horrified awe, "This is going to take years."
It actually took five weeks; James and Sirius were not top of the year for nothing, although they would never have succeeded without Remus' extensive knowledge and determination. Oh, and Peter's encouragement, of course. The prank was certainly worth it, however. Remus failed to smother a snigger as he thought back to the chaos in the Slytherin den.
At first the words had been wispy and insubstantial and were so quickly dissipated that nobody paid them any attention; except the four boys who were eagerly watching for them. Soon, though, the bright pink floating letters escaping hapless students' mouths could no longer be ignored. Bobbing like balloons, the words would not pop, but hung menacingly in the air as visible evidence of every student's private conversation. It was inevitable then that the air would be turned blue with curses; literally so in this case. It had been Remus' idea to create a twist in the hex that would create blue letters for each of several swear words the boys' integrated into the spell. And so it was, that in amongst the shoals of pink words, a multitude of "buggers", "shits" and much worse tainted the air in cyan glory. Then the real fun began.
It had been difficult to give the letters some life of their own, but after many failed attempts (including James being buried under a snowdrift of pink 'o's) it had finally been managed, and the fruits of their labours were plentiful. Despite their seeming indestructibility, the letters could combine and many of the capital letters went on an invasive rampage, assimilating smaller letters in order to grow. It was this that allowed a gigantic purple 'ARSE' to hang in foot long letters on the ceiling. Yet, despite the larger amusement opportunities it was here that it all began to go wrong. Letters began to gang up on others – the larger, tougher consonants like the vs, ks and zs began attacking and culling the weaker vowels, and some were audacious enough to begin picking on students. Wands were drawn, but any spells cast on the letters just made them meaner, and all the time more angry shouts added to the flood of letters until the room was almost drowning in the alphabet. The punctuation was no better – gangs of zeppelin full stops were zooming round the room in kamikaze fashion, and errant commas were stinging anyone they came across. This was all very funny for James and Sirius, who were desperately trying to remain still and silent under the cloak in one corner of the dungeon, until they themselves were attacked by a troupe of capital Ms that pulled at the cloak like pincers, revealing the shuffling feet of the spies. They desperately tried to make it to the door unnoticed, but in a mess of dismembered words and too many legs they tripped and sprawled untidily in the doorway. They managed to keep the cloak covering their heads, but their treacherous legs had been exposed and noticed by furious Slytherins and there was nothing else to do but run for it.
The shout into the mirror came out loud and clear, "LEG IT!" came James' urgent warning and Remus and Peter needed no further encouragement. Common sense had long since overcome loyalty, and the arranged agreement within the group was that the more people that got away with it the better; more people left free to plot revenge. Remus snapped the mirror shut and slipped it into his pocket and muttered a quick farewell to the boy beside him.
"See you back at the Common Room, Pete," he encouraged before sprinting away down the corridor as Peter took the map and darted in the opposite direction.
He wondered how far Sirius and James had got before angry Slytherins descended on them and not for the first time felt the stab of guilt at abandoning his friends. However, he knew with certainty, from experience, if he had dared to be noble and wait for his companions that they would have made him suffer far more than any authority would. But still, to leave them in the lurch when he was safe in here. Or perhaps he wasn't. Remus' ears pricked as they heard light but hasty movement in the corridor outside. Had the teachers already been alerted to the commotion? Remus silently burrowed his way further into the trunks and folds of old material behind him and listened as the footsteps halted outside the door. The door knob turned quickly and the door was inched open. The smell hit Remus' sensitive nose and he recognised the silhouette that slipped into the store cupboard. Sirius always smelt of sex; a tantilising mixture of perfumed scent and sweat, compounded with the nervous excitement that was rolling off him in delicious waves. Or perhaps the scent was totally innocent and it was just Remus' association that brought the sexual element. But no, there could be nothing about Sirius that was totally asexual. Remus blushed in the dark and chastised himself for thinking such forbidden thoughts. Again. Why must he continue to torture himself like this? Surely it was bad enough that he had to see Sirius snuggling up to so many women, taking their lips in his own, chewing their necks, their ears? Seeing Sirius with so many perfect partners, things that he could never be – female, beautiful, normal – was that not bad enough? Well, yes, of course it was, so why did he keep doing this to himself? Laughing with him, supporting him, even reprimanding him, but always, always admiring him from afar. Not so very afar now though. In fact very, very close. In the tiny, cramped cupboard Sirius was practically on top of him.
Licking dry lips, Remus whispered, "Sirius?"
"Holy shit Moony!" choked out Sirius. If there was room he would have staggered backwards in shock. "I didn't know you were there!"
Remus blushed in the dark. "Sorry Padfoot, but could you help me up?"
"Give me a minute," Sirius whispered, panting through exhaustion and shock. "I'm suffering from a heart attack here."
"Sorry. But, it's quite important – I'm wedged between the boxes and a broomstick is, well, it's threatening places is all I wish to say."
"Understood Moony. Guess I'll just have to wring you for guilt some other time." Sirius reached out large, strong hands and pulled the smaller boy to his feet. The tiny room shrunk even further, the figure in front of Remus dominating all available space, the enticing smell of his friend overwhelming his senses, drowning his brain in cotton wool in which only the pink bubbles bobbed up and down, making him nauseous with nerves as each word became Sirius, Sirius, Sirius. In the thick silence of the supply cupboard only shaky breaths could be heard, as Sirius struggled to regain his composure from his shock and Remus desperately tried to keep his wildly beating heart under control. Their faces were so close that Remus was gulping Sirius' breath, so close that he could study the movement of each individual eyelash as they fluttered in the shadows.
"Do you think we're safe?" he asked, tension twanging his vocal chords so they broke the silence like the crash on an out of tune piano.
Sirius' reflexes were honed by hours of prank practice and his hand whipped up to cover Remus' mouth almost before he spoke. He put a finger to his own lips and listened for any sound from the corridor outside. Silence reigned.
Sirius' own voice raised barely above a whisper. "You smell anything?" he asked.
Remus shook his head gently, not wanting to dislodge Sirius hand from his mouth and remove the soft pressure on his lips that was sending lightning shocks down his neck. He despised his acute senses that separated him from his friends, just another mark of a freak, despite James' regular assurances that they were useful. But Sirius did something that changed his mind a little.
"This nose," he whispered, using his free hand to trace a tender line down the curve of Remus' nose, "Is very useful Mr Moony. A very attractive piece of super efficient machinery."
His hand gravitated to Remus' ears. "And these -" Sirius looked directly into Remus' eyes and said sternly, "These, Mr Moony, you must never, ever take for granted. Technically superior to anyone else's in this school, and I shall be extremely cross if I hear that you are undervaluing them."
"Eyes," he continued his assessment in the same mock studious tone. "Useful yes, but much of their quality lies in their aesthetic value. Showpieces, really."
Remus felt with delicious surprise the hand on his lip begin to move. Ever so gently and imperceptibly Sirius' hand began travelled between the creases of Remus' mouth, fingertips leaving feather light kisses on his lips. As Sirius tone softened, so did Remus' spinal column and he felt himself melting, sweet fire burning down his back, sweeping away all resistance as it went.
"Now Mr Moony, I admit I'm baffled. I cannot think of a single use for these."
As Sirius tenderly kneaded his lips between the pads of his fingers Remus prayed fervently. Please find a use. Please find a use. Please, please, pleasepleaseplease.
"Ah, yes." Sirius brought his face closer so that noses were touching and painfully slowly removed his hand from Remus' lips, leaving the way clear for his own mouth. "I remember now."
Please please please.
Sirius did not disappoint.
Reviews welcome – this is my first attempt at slash and would appreciate CONSTRUCTIVE criticism about whether it's believable…
Sham