Dressed to Please

By Seas Incarnadine

Sirius tugged the curtain aside with a flourish, revealing his new set of robes.

"Well, Moony?" he implored, straightening the collar with a precise flick of his wrist. "What do you think?"

Remus gave a wry smirk where he sat in his chair opposite the small dressing room. "Wasn't the whole point of coming to Madame Malkin's to get us something suitable for everyday wear?" he teased.

Sirius' plum-coloured, velvet robes fit indecently tight around his trim frame. His curling hair was long enough to brush against the softness of his fur collar, and his tattoos stood out bold and black where they trailed down his bare chest and disappeared beneath the waistline of his faded Muggle blue jeans.

"This is everyday wear!" Sirius protested, admiring his profile in the large mirror. "It's perfectly suitable!"

Since escaping from Azkaban, all Sirius had been sporting were his ancestors' mouldering robes, along with odds and ends he'd managed to salvage form the back of his boyhood closet. Remus had hoped their excursion would procure something appropriate for a man nearing his fifties (along with some patchless robes for himself), yet, looking at Sirius now, he only summoned memories of his teenage past more forcibly than ever.

"At least button it up, then," Remus shot back, a spark of laughter in his voice. "It's October, for God's sake! You'll catch cold."

"Yes, yes, mother hen," Sirius replied, but made no move to cover himself. The man did a quick turn on the heel of his leather boot, making sure he looked as good in the back as he did in the front. He ran his calloused hands down the silky lapels, appreciating how the material glided beneath his fingertips.

"Honestly, Pads. You're drawing every eye in the shop with that flashy thing," Remus chided.

Sirius brushed back a stray lock of hair from his field of vision and spotted the gaggle of wide-eyed, whispering customers near the register. He threw them a conspiratorial wink, and they jumped in synchronised scandalisation.

"Nah," Sirius drawled, turning back to Remus. "Those girls are just staring because I'm a 'cold-blooded mass-murderer.'"

The accusation fell lightly on his lips. It was only a month ago that the last of his charges had been cleared and the Black family fortune passed into his hands; Sirius was too pleased with his newfound freedom and riches to allow anger to muddy his words. "Why, Love? Jealous?"

Remus rolled his eyes, but Sirius could tell from the faint twitch of his moustache that he was more amused than annoyed. "Just pay the good lady for our robes, then, if you're happy with those. You've monopolised the dressing room long enough."

Sirius turned back to the mirror then, and gave his reflection a long, ponderous look, as though he were having second thoughts. "Hmm… but I think there's something missing, don't you?"

Remus was about to give an exasperated sigh, but then Sirius' hand trailed up from his lapel to land lightly on his throat. The man's finger traced a delicate line over the front of his neck, mapping the contours of something long lost. Remus sat a little taller in his seat.

"They took it, you know," Sirius said. His eyes met Remus' in the looking glass, and they were laced with mischief and remembrance. "Took it, when they forced me into that awful, ratty uniform." He let one finger graze over the swell of his Adam's apple, and Remus swallowed at the sight. "I'd like another one. I mean, if that's alright. If you'll give me one."

Remus realised his mouth was open, and closed it with a snap. His eyes flicked covertly left and right, but of course no one was listening. Besides, he reasoned, they'd hardly know what they were talking about if they were. His gaze dropped to his hands, now clenched together in his lap. He and Sirius had been gathering up the frayed ends of their relationship ever since that night in the Shack. They'd both been transformed by time and grief, and coming back together across an ocean twelve years wide had proved no simple feat. Still, so many things had stood the test of time, like their ability to ground each other in the present when memory threatened to tug them far away, or the way their limbs tangled in the night, uncaring of how their bodies had changed. Could it be that this too had survived? Could Sirius still desire that peculiar form of intimacy they'd shared all those years ago? Remus could feel his pulse thumping quickly at the thought. He finally looked up at Sirius, whose nervous, heavy stare met his own.

"If you really want to…" he said, voice low, "we can get you a new one."

Sirius' face broke out into a huge grin. In a matter of moments, the new robes were paid for and Remus was being dragged by the sleeve out the door and through the cheery bustle of Diagon Alley. He had thought he'd be relieved once they finally found some new clothes for himself and Sirius. To his dismay, his stomach was demonstrating a nausea-inducing series of acrobatics.

"Here we are!" Sirius declared brightly as they found themselves in front of Magical Menagerie. The bell above the door chimed their arrival as they pushed their way inside. Instantly, Remus clapped his hand against his nose. This close to the full moon, the combined stench of the owls, cats, toads, puffskeins, and various other beasts was nearly unbearable. Sirius merely braced his hands on his hips and gazed around with child-like excitement. Cages of all shapes and sizes lined the walls of the shop, and each one harboured a curious creature that turned to stare at him as he passed. His initial interest with the pets having been satisfied, Sirius made a bee-line for the display of accessories in the far, shadowed corner of the store. The man angled himself around a precariously tall tower of food bowls to scrutinise a selection of animal collars. Remus shuffled after him at a much slower pace, trying to look inconspicuous with his hand shoved in his pockets. The collars came in a mind-boggling array of sizes, materials and colours, he realised, once he was close enough: from tiny, delicate models in Pygmy Puff pink, to dragon-hide harnesses that were wider than both his and Sirius' combined circumferences. Sirius whistled in appreciation and began picking his way through the products.

"We have collars for every kind of magical pet imaginable," said a confident voice from behind. Remus looked over his shoulder to see a freckled young woman smiling at them from behind the register. "What kind of a creature are you looking to get a collar for, sir?"

"A dog," was Remus' tense reply.

"Oh, lovely! What kind of a dog is it?"

"A big, mangey one with a nasty habit of leaving his dirty laundry all over the floor."

"Oi!" snapped Sirius, returning his attention to his partner. "That was just the one time! Alright, maybe a few times. But mangey?"

The saleswoman blinked in confusion and mild alarm, then decided it would be best for her to attend to some of the saner-seeming customers.

About five minutes of nervous toe-tapping later, Remus let out a sigh of relief as a collar was passed into his hands for inspection. Sirius hummed softly in approval as he set it in his palms. It was rather plain, compared to the other models on offer: an undecorated band of sturdy, black leather, fastened at the front with a silver buckle. It felt heavy and cool in Remus' hands. He tried to fight down the flush rising in his cheeks as he nodded to Sirius in agreement, then made his way to the counter. It certainly didn't help that his partner led him there by the small of his back.

"Will that be all for today, sir?" the woman asked, whisking it from his hand and checking the price with the speed of someone with many years of salesmanship under their belt.

"Yes, thank you," he said, voice deceptively blasé.

"Would you like to add a tag to your collar?" she added. The woman whipped out a box from seemingly nowhere and set it on the counter with a loud jingle. "We can have it engraved with whatever you like. Maybe the owner's information?"

Before Remus could make a reply, Sirius scooped his hand into the pile of shiny trinkets and held up a tag shaped like a heart.

"What do you say, Remus?" he teased. "How about 'Moony's Bitch: If found, please return to the care of his lovely co–'"

"That will be all!" Remus interjected loudly, snatching up the tag and shoving it back in the box. He slid one galleon and seven sickles across the counter, then plunged their awaiting shopping bag into the inner pocket of his robes. He took Sirius by the hand and yanked him from the shop, barely remembering to throw a hurried "Thank you!" over his shoulder as they left.

Remus' heart only stopped pounding when they were stowed away safely in their new flat. He certainly hadn't expected a meager shopping trip to be so eventful, or so absolutely draining. The man retired to his bedroom, and contented to spend the rest of the afternoon with his feet atop a fluffy pillow and his nose behind a newly acquired biography of Newt Scamander. It was only when the orange light of the street lamps made themselves known behind the bedroom curtains that Sirius mustered the courage to peek around the doorframe. Remus glanced up from his book, and immediately recognised the paper shopping bag in his partner's hands.

"Would you help me with this?" the man asked, slightly sheepish. Remus smirked as he set his book on the quilt, then summoned Sirius to the bedside with a jerk of his head. Sirius sat down obediently beside his partner. He was still wearing his new robes, still unbuttoned. Remus shook his head as he riffled through the tissue paper to retrieve the collar.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable today," said Sirius. His back was slightly slumped, and his gaze was trained on the tatty, braided rug beneath his socked feet. Most of the exuberance from earlier seemed to have petered out, to be replaced by whispered uncertainty. "I know I'm a bit…"

"Unashamed?"

Remus slid the buckle open and pulled the leather taut between his gentle hands. "Don't apologise, Love. I admire your confidence, I really do. I'm sorry if seemed embarrassed. I… well, I've gotten rather used to hiding while you were away. Hiding's a bit of a specialty when it comes to me, actually."

Sirius' gaze was warm and sad when it shifted from the floor to his lover. "You shouldn't have to hide," he said. Sirius wrapped his hand around Remus' wrist and rubbed soft, consoling circles into his skin with the pad of his thumb. "You don't have to hide. And I'm here now. I'll help. Or at the very least, I'll jinx anyone who dares to try and hurt you."

Remus smirked again, but the sharpness of his smile was blunted by the distant look in his eye. "I don't doubt it."

They spent a long moment in silence, a long moment of Remus enjoying the simple feel of Sirius' unadorned affection. At last, he brushed away the heaviness in his heart and cleared his throat the way he would to summon the attention of a class of fourth-years. "Now, turn around to face me so I can put this on you," he ordered.

Sirius' eyes darkened at the demand and he did as he was told. Remus carefully pushed Sirius's hair aside so he could loop the collar around his neck, taking ample time to drag the leather over the man's skin before pulling it tight and clasping it in place. Sirius shivered as the cold buckle was pressed against the warm flesh of his throat. He lifted one tentative hand to run his fingers over the new accessory. Its weight and pressure were familiar and comforting, and sent a trickle of heat from his chest all the way down to his lap.

"I know this has always been more my interest than yours," he said, voice as hushed as the darkness collecting outside their home. "And I know it's a bit odd. More than a bit odd. But it makes me feel… I don't know, like I belong to you? Like we belong to each other. And I can feel it every time I take a breath, against my skin."

Remus smiled warmly, and lowered his mouth to Sirius' jaw. "I know, Love." His lips travelled to the soft skin just above the collar. He inhaled deeply, taking in the rich aromas of new leather and Sirius' own familiar scent. "It doesn't bother me in the slightest. God knows you entertain my own… quirks." He brought his hands up and over Sirius' bare chest, and was rewarded with a pleased hum and the feel of hardened nipples beneath his palms. Oddly enough, he found he no longer cared that Sirius had neglected to button up his robes. "Besides, your 'interest'has rather grown on me."

Not long later, as Sirius tore off his brand new robes and hurtled them to the floor faster than a Firebolt, neither he nor Remus could help thinking that it'd been a remarkably successful shopping trip, and that they had indeed found Sirius something suitable for everyday wear.

Harry Potter is a creation of J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc. I claim no rights to the original content.