Remind me again – together we trace our strange journey,
find each other, come on laughing.
Sometime we'll cross where life ends.
We'll both look back as far as forever, that first day.
I'll touch you – a new world then.
Stars will move a different way.
We'll both end. We'll both begin.
Remind me again.
-via William Stafford, Our Story
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Manchester, December 1978
Remus had never seen Sirius like this before. He'd seen him red in the face with laughter or rage, crying of joy or brokenness, screaming and bleeding, lit up by the light of dawn and showered with the darkness of night. He'd memorized every last inch and detail from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, the inflection in every phrase he'd ever said, every tic and mannerism he could never shake.
But he'd never seen him this worried. Remus wasn't even sure if worried could cover the distress written over Sirius' face and body. Sirius fretting over decorations he'd perfected hours ago, checking the party snacks over and over just in case a draft might've toppled them over, flattening his pants in the front even though they were bone straight. He would stop in the mirror every now and then, scowling at his appearance or a speck of lint on his top, and he would go to his room to change.
Distraught could've been a good description, but Remus considered frantic the breadwinner.
It was New Year's Eve, and someone had to throw the get-together. James and Lily threw in the towel after the mess left in her flat on Christmas; Remus didn't blame them. Parties were a hassle – fun, for sure, but most definitely a pain in the neck. How Sirius thought he could manage this feat alone was beyond Remus, and when he'd gotten an owl from Sirius earlier that morning begging for help, he didn't hesitate before throwing on his clothes and heading over.
Remus had seen Sirius nervous before. In the hospital, back in July, he'd shuffle over cautiously, avoid eye contact, and mutter beneath his breath like a scolded child. The bridge of his nose would grow dark red and those long lashes would flutter against his cheeks as he looked anywhere but into Remus' eyes. However, this wasn't just nerves. This entire episode was on an entirely different spectrum of panic, and Sirius refused to tell him why.
It wasn't as if they hadn't throw parties before; the Marauders were infamous for their Quidditch afterparties back in school. Of course, James and Sirius had orchestrated it all. The only thing Remus was good enough for was to be on the lookout for professors making their rounds. Peter managed to sneak all the foods in from the kitchen, and Lily managed the music.
What made this occasion any different was beyond Remus, and if Sirius wouldn't tell him what on earth was going on that made him so frenetic, then he'd do his best to ease the nerves. It might have been the several owls earlier that afternoon canceling on him, or maybe it was the weight of being a perfectionist that made him so high strung.
He pulled himself up from the sitting chair by the window, silently pardoning himself from the magnificent view of the skyline, and entered the kitchen. Sirius was nearly breaking his arm in hopes of mashing a few more potatoes for his casserole, red in the face and sweat breaking on his forehead.
"Here, let me," Remus offered gently, reaching out to take the utensil.
Sirius recoiled silently, however, and continued mashing as if Remus had never spoken. Despite having invited him over, Sirius had done his darndest to avoid contact with Remus all day. From sending him on errands to cleaning duty upstairs, it had been some sort of complex dance that allowed Sirius to be near Remus, but not with Remus. And Remus supposed this was for some moral support.
It would be the first time Peter, James, and Lily had seen Sirius' apartment. With James on tour with his team, and Lily packing and unpacking for months on end, neither one of them got around to visiting Sirius. Peter just never really wanted to, if he were being honest. Not that Sirius minded, Remus noted. It had taken him until November to get everything settled and organized; from uncouth little schoolboy-bastard to a meticulous scholar with his own townhouse, Sirius had transformed into an enigma.
He liked his things to be specific and noticed when things had been moved. The sitting area alone had been rearranged and charmed a handful of times before he'd been satisfied with the result; don't get Remus started about the breakfast room upstairs. There wasn't a speck of green in the house to be accounted for if you didn't count the plants from Marlene; she told him they make good house-warming presents and brighten the rooms. She'd been right. Remus was surprised to find as many photographs as he did when visiting for the first time.
Remus had almost forgotten about his old polaroid; he hardly ever used it anymore. A few photos had been taken on holiday, and this is where they ended up. Candids of the boys, impromptus of Remus as he laughed. There had been one where Lily had managed to shove a grape up her nose and couldn't retrieve it, and apparently, this warranted a memory snapshot. Remus smiled fondly at them.
"Will you be wearing that to the party," Sirius asked then, the gaze that raked up and down Remus' body definitely unenthusiastic.
If one didn't know Sirius, they would've picked out a particular edge to his voice that made the hairs prickle on the back of your neck. It sounded harsh and pointed, as though he were accusing you of a war crime.
But Remus knew Sirius, and he knew that he took on such a tone when under pressure. There was no real bite in his words, rather tension and fear. Did he deserve such criticism? No, in one sense. Did he need to change in order to look presentable? Most definitely.
"I could apparate home quickly and change," he offered then, looking down at himself.
Looking at himself, he didn't blame Sirius for wondering. When he'd received the owl, he'd been reading the paper in his small kitchen with a cup of warm tea and biscuits McGonagall had sent for Christmas. With urgency, he'd thrown on whatever was laying out in his bedroom and ended up wearing a pair of cargo shorts in December and a Quidditch sweatshirt. None of it matched, and his socks were a week old; no wonder Sirius scowled upon his arrival. The fashion king did not approve of this look, and Remus was inclined to agree.
Sirius just shook his head, "I've got something that will fit you upstairs."
Shortly, he jerked his apron over his head, throwing it on the counter beside him, and cleaned his hands on a spare rag. Remus' eyes wandered over them, dipped with the curves of his knuckles and the silver rings adorned on his fingers, smiled at the chipped polish and chewed the inside of his lip. Sirius led him up the stairs, but Remus didn't really need a guide. He knew the only reason Sirius was going with him was to make sure he didn't ruin the system in his closet; God forbid he ever mess with his organizations.
Remus admired Sirius from behind. He had chosen a simple outfit – black turtle neck, ash slacks, and shiny, chunky boots with a heel. It added an extra three inches to his height, meaning Remus didn't have to crane his neck down so much to look him in the eye. To keep it out of the food, his dark hair was braided back intricately, loosened strands billowing behind his pierced ears. His gaze remained forward and unbothered – indifferent but aware of Remus' eyes upon him.
Remus loved it when he dressed like this; his sweater showed off the toned body he'd acquired as a beater. It required plenty of upper body strength and cardio, and if Remus was being completely honest with himself, the role paid off. Years later, even after he'd given up the sport, he was still in immaculate shape, and it took everything in Remus, and others, not to stare.
He loved how delicate Sirius was in spite of this, however. He was still much smaller than Remus' towering figure, slim and lean with a fragile-looking posture. Perhaps he was coddling Sirius' form because, compared to people like Lily, he was a brick wall. Then again, Remus supposed he himself was a brick wall compared to Sirius, though, so it was all in perspective.
They entered Sirius' room wordlessly, the hum of traffic outside in the background of their world. It was cozier than Remus had expected it to be. Given his rather wealthy background, Remus expected Sirius' home to be lavish, at least, and grand in the scheme of things. In his rampant imagination, he could see Sirius splurging on decorum and tasteful accessories that really pulled the entire place together. However, just as he always did, he went and surprised Remus.
It was around the size of a Gryffindor dormitory, which was small compared to his place at the Potter's, with a queen-sized bed pressed against the wall. Remus hid his smile when he found Eupehmia's quilt thrown over the mattress and her little needle-point pillow on top. The only other things in the room were a fireplace, two dressers, a mirror, two chairs, and a guitar Sirius swore he would learn eventually. It smelled like lavender, and Remus fell in love.
"In here," Sirius quipped, entering his closet.
Remus followed obediently, watching as Sirius carded through an assortment of clothes.
"Could I bother you with a question," Remus mused. Sirius merely grunted in response. "How do you have something that'll fit me? You wear a women's petite size 26 sinched waisted pants and I wear circus tents."
If only for a second, Sirius grinned, "That is my secret, Moony. Although, I daresay, kudos to you for knowing my size."
"Thief," Remus snickered.
"And a good one. Here," Sirius thrust something into Remus' hands. "It's an old jumper of yours and some slacks. Might be too small now, though."
Remus pulled off his sweatshirt with a grimace, "Calling me fat now?"
"One more bag of sweets and you'll be known as porky from now on," Sirius sneered, clearly averting his eyes from Remus' naked chest.
Not much had passed between them since their kiss on Christmas. Now, that wasn't to say that they hadn't made progress. Just two days ago, Sirius had taken Remus out for a nice cup of coffee just before a book signing. They'd gone back to Remus' quaint little flat and smoked, talking about the good old days of mischief and marauding. Chatted about how happy Lily and James appear to be, planning the wedding between themselves like schoolgirls. It felt like a natural progression had settled over them, pulling them closer at the perfect speed.
In school, there was such an intensity neither had been ready for. Neither Remus nor Sirius knew how to react to the feelings in their hearts and bodies and had no one to turn to for advice. Now that they were older, even if only by a year, it seemed easier to grasp. Their future seemed more tangible now that they were beginning to understand who they were.
Remus pulled the jumper over his head, tossing his tawny hair all over the place like the wind, and beamed at Sirius. The latter gazed at Remus with a vacant look deep in his eyes. The three feet between them felt like lifetimes that could only be filled with cement, trapping each other on opposite ends. If Remus had prayed for anything that holiday, it had been for their relationship to land on its feet.
Remus managed an odd smile, "I haven't seen this in ages." Sirius shrugged. "I wouldn't suppose you have my –"
"Even if I did, my good man," Sirius declared, sauntering out of his room, "you would not be getting them this fair night."
Remus followed quietly, keeping close to Sirius.
"How many articles of my clothing have you stolen?"
"Not enough."
They made it back to the kitchen, Sirius returning to his preparations after resettling the apron over his shoulders.
"Soon enough I'll be wandering around in a tea towel," he laughed.
"I don't think that'll be enough to cover you up, but if it helps you sleep at night."
Remus felt the heat rush to his face, ears going hot and red. He let his stare rest on Sirius; he was obviously in his own little world where only he and the chicken exists, and Remus was merely an overlying shadow that made annoying, chittering noises every once in a while. His back was facing Remus, hair tickling the nape of his neck. Remus could see the rise and fall of tense breathing.
He hated how much he loved Sirius. It felt like a record on repeat; every time a thought bounced around the confines of his empty skull, Sirius was there accompanied by the everlasting, unrequited love that cackled in triumph. When he walked into a room full of life and people, he saw him. When there were twenty people crammed into Lily's tiny flat with wine and beer trying to chat away with Remus about his Muggle job and his family, he saw him. When there were a million other things to pay attention to on New Year's Eve, he saw him.
Here he was, for the umpteenth time, just looking at Sirius with these idiotic, romantic thoughts in his head, and he looked like more than just his best friends. He wanted to tell him this again, beat it into his brain so that maybe he could get it. He wanted to tell him how much he needed him – how lonely his flat had been with the absence of his cavorting and stupidity. He wanted to tell him of the family of snitches rampant in his chest every time he so much as glanced in his direction.
In his dreams, he'd told Sirius that he'd taken up a place in his heart he didn't even mean to give. But he knew, when he woke up, that Sirius didn't exactly feel the same, and the lopsided grins and the lingering touches didn't hold the same weight. There was still a sliver inside of him that didn't accept that, and perhaps that was the part that broke a little bit every time Sirius ignored him that night. It was the part that continued to love him, the hopeless romantic, the one that wanted to turn their smoking breaks into coffee dates and brunches on the days he worked, that wanted their conversations to never end – but if they must, with kisses. The part that didn't just hug Sirius, but held him close.
"You're staring," Sirius waved his hand in front of Remus' face slowly. "Am I really boring you with my dazzling cooking?"
Remus shook his head, clearing his conscience of all remnants of longing, "Well, if I have to be honest, I want to help with something."
"Poor Moony left to his own devices," Sirius cooed, stumbling a bit when Remus' hand shoved him lightly. "Alright, alright. You can help. But tie up your hair and wash your hands – I mean it! Wash them, don't just graze them."
Remus glared, "I know how to wash my hands! I just doubt that you can cook."
Sirius gasped, "How dare you! And you consider yourself a chef?"
"I know how to make soup," Remus scrubbed his hands vigorously in the sink, boring holes into the back of Sirius' head.
"Making soup isn't cooking, you heathen," Sirius growled. "Can you even poach an egg?"
"Why would I want to poach an egg? I hate poached eggs."
"You only hate them because you can't cook them right," Sirius pointed a hot spoon at Remus as he dried his hands. "Besides, your shittiness at cooking surpasses anything else I'm shitty at despite me not being shitty at anything."
Remus cocked his head to the side, "You can't sew to save your life and you know it!"
"Shut up and come here," Sirius barked, pulling Remus by the waistband of his pants to his side. "I'm going to make myself very clear now. I will tell you what do to, and you must listen to me."
Remus nodded silently, abhorring the choice to assist Sirius in the kitchen now that he understood how tedious he'd been. Maybe it was better to let him do it on his own, but at least this way he'd actually speak to Remus instead of treating him like a misplaced brick wall.
"Now, I had to substitute –"
"We're already off to a great start," Remus teased.
"Fuck you," Sirius snapped.
Before he could stop himself, Remus bit back with, "Fuck me."
A silence fell over them – thick and warm. It was uncomfortable and sticky like the air just after a storm. On the one hand, Remus severely regretted his word choice. It was said mostly out of habit; they'd always joked like that before their plentiful hiatuses. Things were different now, however, and he had to adapt. It was shocking to discover Remus had more difficulty adjusting to their newfound common ground than Sirius did. But, on the other hand, the only way they would ever stop dancing around each other was to try to move back to the way things had been. He was torn down the middle and didn't know how Sirius would react.
"As I was saying," he continued as though Remus hadn't even opened his mouth, deeming him the incompetent brick wall once again, "we're using buttermilk instead of regular milk for flavor."
By heart, Sirius taught Remus how to make buttermilk, parmesan biscuits from scratch with only five ingredients. There had been a moment when Sirius had nearly lost his mind over the formation of the rolls on the baking pan; Remus' abnormally large hands had clearly made the rolls too large, and Sirius forced them to rebuild them again. Remus had been tempted to start some sort of food fight after Sirius flicked flour in his face, but after noticing Sirius' all-black outfit and temperamental mood, decided against it.
When everything had been finished and plated around nine o'clock, with thirty minutes before anyone would arrive, the two flopped onto the sofa unceremoniously. Sirius took to lounging as per usual, sprawling out like a lazy cat on a summer afternoon. He draped his arms over his face, shielding it from the heavy heat of the fire across from them, and sighed. Remus, what with Sirius' current position, managed to squeeze in on the other end of the couch without disrupting the other's brooding, and looked back out at the darkened skyline.
"You know Moody is tightening the schedule after tomorrow," Sirius mentioned off-handedly.
Remus, knowing that he was only trying to make light conversation in the midst of his worrying, said, "It's to be expected. We haven't done much so far."
"Means we won't have a lot of time together," Sirius clarified.
"Oh."
"Yeah."
Remus pondered this for a moment. Thus far, Moody called them in for training three times a week on a rotating schedule. He worked with them one on one nine times out of ten; Fleamont explained that the Order needed to gauge their strengths and weaknesses in order to come up with a strong game plan for training and practice. All in all, Remus really needed to work on his mental blocking. In school, they'd discussed Occulemency but had never truly practiced it. According to Moody, he was weak-minded and vulnerable – the two things Voldemort hunted for in victims. If he was going to stand a chance, his time spent with Fleamont to practice would need to increase tenfold.
However, even if that was the case, he would make time for Sirius and the others.
He laid his hand atop Sirius' knee, stroking gentle circles into his skin, "Don't worry. You won't be rid of me that soon."
"Oh rats," Sirius feigned disappointment, but his expression darkened. "Am I doing better?"
Remus paused, mulling over the words.
In truth? Yes. Sirius had been doing much better as of late. His temper had subsided in a general sense; there were still tantrums and panic attacks, much like that night in particular, where it'd been nearly impossible to pull Sirius out of his own mood, and there were other nights where the arguments were on the cusp of release. Remus still got short with Sirius during their training sessions with McGonagall, and he would always get annoyed when Sirius didn't clean up his dishes on visits.
But, on the whole, he'd been better to him. His words were more gentle, more thoughtful. It felt as though the things he'd said as of late had been from not just the heart but the head as well. Sirius had the nasty habit of saying whatever his heart desired to say because he was fueled by passion. Living in a place like Grimmauld, one would have to be; without light or passion or fire, Remus thought one could just freeze over. But with that heated passion came impulsivity and harshness. For years, Sirius struggled to reign in his temper and vindictiveness. Their friendship, and eventually relationship, had struggled because of it. Time and time again, Remus gave Sirius chances.
For the first time, he saw a light at the end of that tunnel. It hadn't been like the last time, nor like the time before that. Sirius was a child then – they all were. They'd all been deluded with the prospects fo an easy, adventure-seeking life with no responsibility. They'd matured, finally, and with this maturity came a new outlook on life. If anything were going to last, they needed to make the effort. Love was easy in school; the schedule allowed for it. They ate together, slept in the same room, had the same classes – not being around Sirius was a choice. Now that they'd grown up, the relationship took more, and it took more in all categories.
More patience, compassion, boundaries, and time. They wouldn't see each other every minute of the day, and even if they did, it wouldn't be like before. It wouldn't be like the movies or the love songs; it was going to be difficult. But, looking at Sirius then as he lounged on his sofa, Remus knew he was willing to make that effort and had the inkling that Sirius was as well. He still had miles to go, no doubt, but this showed Remus he was at least trying. For him.
That had to mean something, didn't it?
Remus pulled Sirius up by his arms, settling him on his lap and draping Sirius' arms over his shoulders. He clasped his hands at the small of his back, looking up at him with stars in his eyes.
"You're leading with flying colors, love," he murmured, feeling his heart race when Sirius' grin stretched into that face splitting smile he adored. "I'm very proud."
Sometimes it felt as though they were destined to be together, him and Sirius – if destiny were even real. He had the moon, and Sirius was every twinkling star in the night sky, and it brought more comfort to Remus knowing that no matter their circumstances, even when that shard of hope within him dwindled to its last strand, there was a part of Sirius looking down on him. Maybe it was looking up at him given how short he was.
Or maybe it was looking from the inside out because there had never been a day of loving Sirius when Remus hadn't felt as though they were one. They were pulled together despite a variety of forces pushing them apart, and sometimes that thought made it hard for Remus to breathe, even as Sirius yammered away about his holiday cookies in the oven.
People always described Sirius as fire – hot and dangerous, drawing and fierce – but Remus felt as though he was more like water. His love was slow and tender, cool against the hotness of his skin in the summer. He worked down his throat, filling his lungs and the chambers of his heart. This was how he loved, Remus realized. Slow and steady – filling to the cusp inches at a time. It took months to realize that maybe Sirius wasn't a flame after all; perhaps he'd been the lapping waters of a stream he'd forgotten or an ocean he'd never seen before.
Remus watched his lips moving, the formation of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth with every minute gone by. It was clear that the anxiety was slipping away from him, and his normal charisma was seeping into his bones again. Sirius looked down at Remus, not even noticing their fingers interlocked or their noses bumping against each other as he rambled.
They were enigmas with so many forces pulling them away from each other. Remus vowed in that moment he'd never let them take Sirius away from him – not for anything in this world. He could see Sirius' eyes through the curtain of flyaways pressed against their skin, see the sparkle of the boy he used to know, and smiled. His hands squeezed gently, thumbs rubbing transparent shapes into the roughness of Sirius' skin.
"You're not even listening, are you," Sirius drawled, not in the least bit offended, rather amused.
"Nope," Remus tsked, pressing his lips to Sirius'.
His hands ran up and down the surface of his back, exploring before disappearing beneath the turtleneck. Sirius returned the kiss with such little hesitance that it nearly startled Remus. It had been nearly a year since they'd kissed like that – passionately and full of hunger. Little, chaste kisses had been sprinkled as they tiptoed through their break, but Remus realized then that he didn't want that hiatus to go on any longer. One thinks they could go on forever without the person they loved; they think it's easy moving on so long as you abstain from their presence.
But, if anything, pulling away from Sirius made the water inside of Remus flow stronger than ever before. Something so small as a Christmas kiss brought a tidal wave of yearning and desire that he'd considered squashed weeks beforehand.
Sirius' hands pulled out the hair tie keeping Remus' hair away from his precious food, carding his fingers through the tawny mess roughly. Remus carefully opened his lips to Sirius, surprised at the touch of tongue against tongue.
Who the hell cared if Lily and James could walk in any minute? Peter had already seen them once; it wasn't like he hadn't been exposed to their debauchery before. It was worth the embarrassment and the endless taunting from their friends; the way Sirius held his face and, his lips and tongue responding to every single one of Remus' movements – tingling. The only thing he could feel was the coolness of Sirius' body against his own, even through their layers of jumpers and slacks. He hoped that Sirius felt alive as he had because it had been too long since they'd held each other – really held each other – and the proximity was driving him up a wall.
Just as he expected, a knock sounded against the door just feet away from them, but they refused to pull apart. Sirius captured Remus' lower lip in his teeth, nibbling gently with that impish smirk he always had.
"We could just ignore them," he whispered.
Remus giggled, "James will blast the door down."
"I can replace it," he trailed kisses along Remus' stubbled jawline.
Remus felt shivers crawl down his spine, his hands exploring the tightness of Sirius' thighs. The heavy thump against his rib cage was painful and sharp, but he loved the sensation of want rummaging through his bones.
"Not before Lily comes in and throttles you," Remus groaned, letting his palms massage Sirius' arse.
James pounded against the door again, "I know you're in there, Pads."
Sirius' mouth nibbled at the skin on Remus' neck, tongue swiping over his soft spots and teeth clamping down almost painfully. They'd never marked one another before, too afraid to draw unwanted attention in school. But they were older now, had fewer obligations to the world. Everyone knew about them, and if they didn't, who the fuck cared? Remus nearly gasped at the sensation of Sirius' love bites; it was exhilarating beyond comprehension.
"I'm going to kick the door down in ten seconds," James called.
Sirius groaned, annoyance slipping through the cracks of their euphoria. Remus merely chuckled, stroking the hairs out of Sirius' face and tucking them behind his turned-pink ears. Even if it had only been for a moment – or two – it had been relieving being able to turn toward each other again. Sex had been their bridge back to each other. The one place where they'd always meet. Whatever obstacles had been placed in front of them – a war, a girl, family, the world – they could seek out each other in passionate moments like this and find a world of their own. It was a starting place to get back to the way things had been before.
"Alright, shithead, I'm coming," Sirius growled, forcing himself off of Remus' lap and trudging toward the door.
Remus followed closely, soothing Sirius' mood by massaging the nape of his neck tenderly, "Don't look so glum, darling. They'll be gone in a few hours."
"That's a few hours too long," Sirius hissed. "Maybe we can drive them out in two?"
Remus chuckled, "With their sex drives? I'd be surprised if they make it past midnight."
Sirius choked, "Gross. Don't put that image into my brain after experiencing such a magnificent moment of our own."
Reaching forward, the grand door to Sirius' home had been pulled open, albeit a little aggressively, revealing an ecstatic looking Lily Evans and James Potter. They'd been dressed in black and gold robes despite Sirius' pleas for casual attire, and it was obvious Lily had gone out of her way to spoof up. Remus knew this was less for Sirius and more for James; they were still in the wooing phases despite being totally enraptured with one another since sixth year, and it was just a matter of time, he knew, before they made things truly official.
James' eyes, trained from Quidditch and years of rooming with them, scurried over their rather disheveled appearances and the darkening mark on Remus' neck. His mouth parted slightly and the blood rushed to his cheeks; no matter how long he'd known of their affection for one another, it would always be a punch to the gut seeing it in live-action. Not that James was uncomfortable with the idea of two boys together; it hadn't been that at all. Rather, according to Sirius, it had been like two brothers loving one another much more than two brothers should. That was the part that made it odd for James, and he promised he'd get used to it eventually.
On the other hand, Lily was practically bursting at the seams with excitement now that the two had finally broken their hiatus. Of course, the end was unofficial, but there was a consensus that it had finally stopped given their current position. If anyone had been rooting for their relationship, it had been Lily, and her scheming on Christmas might have played a key role in their gravitation back to one another. If it hadn't been for her gift-giving plot, Remus was sure the kiss under the mistletoe would've been a failure, and they would be right back to square one: dancing around one another awkwardly until someone scraped up the nerve to do something about it.
"Happy New Year's," she squealed, her wand shooting glitter from the tip.
Remus pulled her into an embrace, his nose assaulted by this new perfume she'd gotten as a gift. It wasn't soft like her usual scent; this was strong and alluring, sure to catch James' attention. They broke off into pairs, Lily and Remus floating toward the sitting room as Sirius and James exchanged rather aggressive greetings that were sure to leave marks in the morning.
"It's so nice," Lily gaped in awe, eyes floating to the high ceilings and paint jobs. "I never expected him to have such class."
"He was raised by the wealthiest wizarding family in all of Britain," Remus deadpanned. "I'm sure he was tutored in interior design by the age of seven."
Lily threw her head back, laughter echoing throughout the room. That's when Remus saw it. The way James watched her despite Sirius chittering away like a rabid animal right in front of him. James Potter – the nearly famous Quidditch player with enough brain cells to focus on six things at a time – zeroed in at the sound of Lily's laughter across the room. It was like some sort of switch had gone off in that little head of his, buried beneath the uncouth curls ruined by their Apparation. Was that how he looked at Sirius? Was he that obvious?
▬▬ι══════════════ι▬▬
An hour went by, and Peter still hadn't shown up. The only ones who seemed to notice were James and Remus, Lily and Sirius too caught up in their game of charades to care much. He'd said he'd be there by ten-fifteen, and it was going on eleven-thirty. Sirius had mentioned his absence previously, noting how he'd been the only one allowed to arrive "fashionably late," and Lily had shown a bit of concern once the parade had begun in London; it was their favorite part.
There wasn't much to be done at that point, really. They'd sent owl after owl, and James offered to apparate to Peter's house, much to Sirius' disapproval. Perhaps he had other plans, Remus wondered, or he could've felt under the weather. Whatever had been the case, it was a pity he hadn't shown up; the food was immaculate and the festivities Lily had planned were fun beyond belief. Her Muggle games were a bit confusing for James and Sirius, but they caught on quick enough. Simon-Says was the hardest to comprehend, and they eventually gave up due to Lily's tricks.
Sirius chewed on Tattie Scone and shouted, "Oh! I know it. A Hippogriff!"
"No, you idiot," James countered, "she's clearly a Gryffin. Like Gryffin-dor? See, Lily, I'm educated!"
Lily shook her head frantically, her time on the clock winding down to just ten seconds. If she lost this round, James and Sirius would win the game, and that was something Remus just could not allow. The stakes bet were that if they won, their celebration kisses were to begin ten seconds before midnight; not that Lily or Remus minded that at all. It was rather the principle of losing that they were not comfortable with.
Lily had been flapping her arms wildly for fifty seconds, galloping around the sitting room furniture and making odd noises. Remus' first guess had been, in fact, a Hippogriff, but that had been incorrect. The only other thought he had was that of a Muggle myth, which had been off-limits due to James and Sirius' lack of knowledge in that area. However, he was going to take a leap of faith in that round.
"A Pegasus," he called, wincing as he awaited her answer.
"It would appear your kisses will begin on time, my boys," she sneered, high-fiving Remus a little too hard.
"That's no fair,' Sirius shrieked. "Pegasus is a Greek myth, not a wizard one!"
"If you paid attention to Care of Magical Creatures, then you'd know that the Hippogriff is a descendant of the Greek originated Pegasus."
James looked to Remus for confirmation.
He shrugged, "Tis true. They're now considered cousins."
Lily hmphed triumphantly, "Honestly, guys, it was sixth year lessons."
"I paid attention," James said defensively. "You just looked really cute sixth year because you had those little barrettes in your hair to keep the –"
"Shut it, Potter," she snapped playfully, an obvious blush, even with the dim lighting, crawling up her neck. "What's Sirius' excuse?"
Sirius took a nonchalant sip from his wine, swirling it tastefully when he said, "Have you ever been in proximity to James as he fawns over you?"
Lily looked to Remus for confirmation, granted with a smug sort of grin behind his glass.
"Oh, that's just ridiculous," she huffed. "James hasn't –"
Her sentence was cut short by a soft knock at the door. Four pairs of eyes landed on the entrance to Sirius' flat, hoping that it had been Peter who'd resurfaced from his absence. James offered to answer, ready to throttle their friend for his tardiness. Sirius began cleaning the sitting room for the countdown, gathering the scraps of papers from their charade games and empty plates. Remus helped.
"I can't believe the prick is over an hour late," Sirius whispered in the kitchen, plating more snacks on the empty saucers from the sitting area. "I mean, honestly, it isn't that hard to show up on time."
Remus rubbed the small of Sirius' back calmly, "He could have a good excuse. Who knows?"
"I know," Sirius growled, pouring more wine. "He doesn't have the social life to have a good enough excuse."
Remus' expression darkened as he spoke, "Don't be a bully. Everyone's got their own lives, and we can't be ones to judge."
Sirius, looking highly unconvinced, merely tore open a new package of Minnie's finest holiday biscuits they'd manage to save for the occasion. With skilled hands, he arranged them in a meticulous pile; jaffa cakes went on the bottom simply because everyone loved them, and if he'd set them on top then nothing else would get eaten, the custard creams would be next, and finally, the party rings that Remus adored. He knew Sirius had a very particular way of doing things nowadays and that there was, in fact, rhyme or reason to do it.
"All I'm saying is that he could've at least owled us or something," he said. "Just as a courtesy to everyone waiting for him."
Remus approached Sirius from behind, his arms tucked gently around his waist and his head nestled deeply into the crook of his neck. It was much easier embracing him this way with those adorable little heels he bought just for the occasion; they looked absolutely smashing with his slim figure, and if any one of them could pull off the look it was Sirius.
Remus pressed gentle kisses into Sirius' skin, knowing that a gesture so small could go a long way in between them. He felt the hotness of Sirius' skin, the roiling of his blood, cool and slow. Peter knew how to work him up, that's a fact, but Remus doubted that he truly meant to be late. If only he could convince Sirius to see it in the same light.
He and Peter had a tense relationship, to say the least. Remus wasn't quite sure when that switch flipped, when the dynamic between them had changed, but it was jarring. It was no secret Sirius could be a little hard on Peter for the smallest of things – his clumsiness and timid nature – and Sirius made it a point to use Peter as the butt of all jokes. He taunted his shortcomings and always compared him to people such as Benjy and Marlene, claiming size and personality weren't excuses to be as "much of a failure" as Peter had been.
However, Sirius wasn't the only guilty party. On numerous occasions, Peter made out Sirius to be the scapegoat; if anything went wrong, it had been Sirius' idea. The only reason Remus had found that unfair was because they'd all contributed to the jokes and pranks, Sirius just so happened to be the one who got the ball rolling. It wasn't only that, but his indifference to Sirius for several years bothered Remus; in fact, it drove him up a wall. No matter how many times he tried to explain why Sirius acted the way he did, it was like it went in through one of Peter's ears and out of his arse.
Both were guilty of something, and it was about time they made up. It would be difficult getting them to agree to such a thing, and Remus was prepared for backlash.
"Come on," Remus tugged on Sirius, pulling him away from the biscuit platter, "I'll make you a deal." Sirius gazed at him, an unconvinced smirk resurfacing on his flushed face. "I will spend the night if you are on your best behavior."
Sirius merely laughed, exiting the kitchen with Remus' hand in tow, "You were staying anyway, but whatever floats your boat."
Remus squeezed Sirius' hand lovingly, willing him to stay in the kitchen because, now that he thought about it, he really only wanted to be in company with Sirius for the rest of the night. It wasn't as if he didn't enjoy spending time with his other friends, rather they'd already lost so much time to petty arguments and hiatuses – complements to Remus himself – and he didn't want to lose any more. He reassured himself that everyone would leave soon after midnight, what with James and Lily unable to keep their hands off each other and Peter despising the fifth wheel role, and forced a smile.
Remus was about to open his mouth, greeting those in the sitting room with a hearty hello, when he collided with Sirius' body. Confused, Remus glanced at his surroundings; the sitting room was intact, excluding candy wrappers and half-full wine glasses. The night sky was still visible – not a Dark Mark in sight, and the stars faded behind the early crackle of fireworks. Remus' eyes searched for Lily and James, an uncomfortable chill settling over his body as he did not find them on the couch or near the fire. Reaching for his wand, he let his eyes scan the room one last time, finding that they settled on the small, pale figure.
"Regulus," Sirius breathed
His brother nodded curtly, "Sirius."
It took an impressive amount of self-control not to draw his wand on Regulus; last Remus heard, he and his brother weren't on the best of terms. Sure, they'd had a nice morning on a bench near Grimmauld, and yes, they'd been in correspondence concerning the health of their father. However, from the bits and pieces he'd revealed through small talk, they hadn't exactly agreed on their father's decision regarding Sirius' inheritance. No, they hadn't agreed at all.
The silence stretching across the room seemed to communicate that thought. Lily and James finally emerged from the foyer, ending their fervent whispering upon entrance, and settling down on the couch with one another. Remus, still unsure of what exactly to say (because what can one say to their lover's distant brother whom you've never gotten along with), felt Sirius' grip on his hand harden. Their grasp was hidden behind Sirius' leg, Remus hovering oddly close to his body in hopes that something could splice this unease.
Lily spoke first, "It was lovely of you to join us, Regulus!"
Regulus, whose eyes had been trained on Sirius for quite some time, reluctantly tore his gaze from his brother and let it settle on Lily with ease.
"Thank you, Ms. Evans," he managed through gritted teeth.
"Oh, please, call me Lily."
Regulus just nodded his little head, curls flopping lazily in his eyes.
Remus felt strangely intrigued by this young boy. He was much taller than the last time Remus' had seen him – during his final months at Hogwarts he'd been too busy studying to really notice anyone apart from the Gryffindors. His hair was longer, and he was wearing Muggle clothes, managing to look – almost – normal. However, that wasn't what intrigued him.
It had been the stark differences in their natures. In a way, Regulus reminded him a bit of Peter. In the sense that they both seemed extremely shy and quiet; Regulus had yet to move his feet from the threshold of the foyer. His hands were clasped oh so tight behind his back, fingernails surely boring holes into his wrists, and the smile on his pale, freckled face seemed, if only a bit, genuine.
"Well, we're glad to have you," James smiled. "Come, sit. We've got plenty of room."
Regulus cast a wary glance toward his brother as if asking permission in silence.
"Would you like something to drink," Sirius sighed. "I've got loads of refreshments I need to get rid of."
Regulus shuffled to the couch, seating himself beside James. Remus noticed that he angled himself away from the group, knees pointed away and body pressed firmly against the arm of the couch.
"Surprise me," he grinned, though it was strained.
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After another hour of awkward and, if he was being honest, forced conversation, the alcohol came in full swing. Remus didn't consider himself much of a drinker; he'd seent the way it affected his father and vowed never to drown his sorrows in a bottle, but this occasion didn't count, did it? He was drinking to celebrate! It was the New Year – a new year to be a new Remus John Lupin. It meant bettering his life by jogging every morning and not allowing take-out within a six-foot radius. It was spending more time with the one he loved. Well, the ones he loved, but, actually, he could only be around James and Lily for an hour before their dry-humping became unbearable.
He drank for his health – at least that's what you were supposed to do when you drank. Drink for good health and prosperity! If he could think straight, he definitely would. His New Year's wish would be for prosperity because the money was running like water into a pothole; he was nearing the end of his line. If the Muggle job didn't get any better, well, damn it, he'd have to get another one. More jobs meant more money. He could get six jobs! If only Moody paid for training, then they'd be rolling in the dough.
Sirius moseyed in from the kitchen with the expensive champagne meant only for midnight and five skinny glasses. Lily had broken her wine glass and repaired it a total of eight times already, earning a chorus of ironic groans as it tumbled to the wooden floors for a ninth.
"Blame Potter, not me," she snapped, flicking her wand. "Reparo."
Like magic, the pieces shoved and sealed themselves back together, the only thing leaving a trace of their brokenness being a small wine stain on the ground. James pulled her onto his lap, leaving a sloppy kiss on her ear.
"You two are disgusting," Sirius declared, crossing his legs in the most dignified of ways. "Honestly, I'm surprised you haven't created some bastard child yet."
James glared, "As if you and Remus aren't any fucking worse!"
Remus noticed Regulus' wide eyes darting in between his brother and himself, full of horror and disbelief. Oh, that's right. No one had told Regulus about the news, though, really, he should've pieced it together already. Ever since their fifth year, the entire school just assumed they were in love! If he didn't get it from school gossip then the kid should've been able to tell by the way they held each other. It was deathly obvious! Remus was drunk and he could see it.
"I'll have you know," Sirius growled with a stiff finger jabbing in James' direction, "Rem and I are two classy homosexuals, and we were raised with manners." Lily stifled a laugh in the crook of James' neck. "And my itty brother is here, so don't traumatize him."
Remus raised his hand, "I'd like to say, for the record, I am not a homosexual. I like men and women, thank you. But I like Sirius more than anyone."
"Really," Lily gasped, feigning surprise. "No one could've guessed."
"I didn't know you were gay, Sirius," Regulus whispered.
Even through the haze of fire whiskey and wine, Remus knew that Regulus had abstained from all alcohol that New Year's Eve. It probably made him feel uncomfortable being in a room with so many brash Gryffindor's; Remus didn't blame him. They'd been excluding him a bit, but he was quiet and shy, so he didn't help his own case. In a way, he felt bad for Regulus. He didn't know any of their inside jokes or their old memories – you know, the things you talk about on New Year's Eve with one another. Remus didn't do it on purpose; there was just so little he knew about the other Black Family brother.
But it never occurred to him how little he knew about them as well. The divide between houses was always a thick one, especially between Slytherin and Gryffindor. If you added the lifetimes in between Regulus and Sirius as brothers? You've got the Mariana Trench full of unknown, trivial things and missed moments. Trivial being the things such as Sirius' inability to watch anything with snowmen in them because they absolutely terrify him. Bigger moments such as the fact that Sirius is, in fact, gay. Not even Remus had heard him openly announce his sexuality; in fact, none of them had. It'd just been assumed since Remus was a man and Remus was also the only person Sirius ever fancied.
Sirius, as if just noticing his brother for the first time in ten minutes, gulped down the last of his wine, "Oh, yes. I've been a closet case for the entirety of my school years, Reggie. Although I wouldn't say I'm homosexual, rather I'm Remus-sexual."
James grimaced, "What does that even mean?"
Remus laughed, planting a chaste kiss on Sirius' shoulder. He didn't mind the odd stares Regulus sent their way; there would be an adjustment period for sure. Regulus was just learning about his brother. He was just learning about all of them. It didn't help that they'd dropped a bomb on him on his first official night with the Marauders – minus Peter.
"It means that the only person I shall ever shag in this lifetime is Remus," Sirius announced, ignoring the faces of disgust rippling through the sitting area. "Who knows? He may even find out I'm in love with him!"
Remus chuckled at that, the words not really sorting in his brain the right way. In fact, nothing was filing the way it should've been. He found himself zoning in and out of the conversation, eyes too wrapped up in the way Sirius looked – the way his hair had finally broken free from the braid and the blood rushing to his cheeks as he sang Piano Man with the radio. The way his ringed fingers pulled on the looseness of Remus' shirt to ensure he didn't fall to the floor. The way his lips sucked on the rim of his smudged wine glass and the fogginess in his eyes as he watched the early fireworks.
It all felt like a song that was going far too fast to enjoy; he wished he could slow the world down, but, then again, maybe it was better this way. When it slowed down, it felt as if there was more time to waste. More time to argue and cry. More time to distance yourself. When the world was whizzing by as fast as it was that New Years, it made him appreciate every little second more than he really did. There wasn't enough room in his brain to worry about whatever Regulus was thinking or how inappropriate it was to be all over Sirius the way he had been.
He'd never had so little time to be wrapped up in the idea of propriety. Now that the world was turning at such speed, he could be free to do as he pleased. And what had pleased him in that moment was watching Sirius' lips describe his favorite parts of Remus, even if he hadn't been entirely listening.
Regulus choked on his breath, the sound pulling Remus back to earth. He caught on soon enough that Sirius had been describing his cock, and, suddenly, he didn't blame Regulus for his incredulousness.
"No one wants to hear about Moony's cock, Sirius," James cried. "Jesus Christ."
"If I'm forced to hear about how good you are in bed, then you'll endure the description of my prick," Remus teased, sticking his tongue out at an abashed Lily.
"Wow," was all Regulus managed to say, clasping his hands in front of him.
"Don't worry. You get used to it," James winked at Regulus, that sly grin of his nearly splitting his face in half.
If he hadn't been so drunk – if they all hadn't been so drunk – they might have noticed the dark pink tint in Regulus' cheeks, the burning red in his ears and nose. They might have seen the way he dipped his head behind his arms, hiding the smile in the fabric of his shirt. However, they didn't. They rambled away, chattering about the closeness of midnight and how excited they were to taste the fancy champagne despite the fact none of them needed it. Regulus laughed at their jokes, obviously becoming more comfortable with their ebb and flow as the night moved on, and, soon enough, it was almost as if no one missed Peter. Well, no one missed Peter, really. Regulus was awesome!
Remus turned back to the conversation.
"It isn't completely gay if I find Remus to be carved from God's own palm," he said. "And it isn't completely gay if we're dating."
James just shrugged, "I mean, I wouldn't consider myself the expert of being gay, but –"
"I'm an expert, and it's gay," Regulus guffawed with Lily, leaning over to her and bumping shoulders.
He really did fit in, even if it was odd to say. Remus thought pigs would fly before any of them, excluding Sirius, of course, would associate with someone like Regulus. However, they'd been a poor sense of judgment on his character's behalf; he wasn't so bad, really. It was almost like having two Sirius' in a single room, one of them being more aggressive than the other, yes, and one of them being loud beyond belief.
Lily pointed to the charmed clock just above the fireplace, "We've got thirty seconds!"
"Who's Reggie going to kiss," James asked, popping in a breath mint at the last second.
"Maybe next time he'll bring a date," Remus suggested.
Regulus blushed, "Oh, I—Erm. People don't, uh, like me – I'm not –"
"Don't choke yourself," James clapped a supportive hand on Regulus' back, massaging kindly to rid him of nerves. "I'm sure Sirius can take you to this bar he loves. You'll be the king of the night, I'm sure."
"Okay, shut up," Sirius shouted. "Eleven, ten, nine…"
Remus pulled Sirius' face to meet his, eyes staring into the deep, milky pools of gray. It had still been too long without him. He'd need to make up for the lost time in the coming weeks. If training was going to be as brutal as they thought, he wanted to make sure that all these loose ends at home were tied as securely as possible.
The clock struck midnight, charmed confetti raining from the ceiling as Regulus popped the cork of the champagne. It was all a fuzz of noises Remus didn't care to focus on; he kissed Sirius. He kissed him like it was the last time he ever would. He hoped things would never fizzle out between them – hoped the passion would never die. He wanted all of their moments to be cinema moments such as this.
Sirius smiled onto his lips, hands on either side of his face, as Regulus finally took his first drink – a chug from the fancy bottle itself, and shouted, "Happy New Year's!"
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Okay, so I haven't done mentions in a long time simply because I got lazy. I'm going to do a question and answer thing on the next chapter – I'm not making an entire chapter just for a Q and A, just because that's redundant. Anyways, I wanted to answer some people and talk for a bit. I'll answer the most recent comments and reviews! If you've got any questions about the story, the characters, or me, stuff like that, I'll answer it in the next chapter!
Iris: I've always pictured Remus as something of a smart-ass. I don't know why. Not smart-ass in a douchebag sort of way, just someone who was witty. I wanted to write a Remus different from the rest – still quiet and shy, but not a push-over. However, I will say, that sometimes he does let Sirius do too much, and he needs to get a little bit of a backbone when it comes to the way Sirius treats him, but overall, I'm proud that he's one of the Remus' who's got more than just the "scared shitless of James and Sirius' aggression" mentality.
YellowWomanontheBrink: Thank you! I love holiday chapters because it's a time to like to get in a happy, sappy mood. I felt like we all needed a little bit of fluff. Ah, Rem as our poet and Sirius' as our artist. Could we get anymore aesthetic?
4evermoonyandpads: I feel as though the huge gap between 46 and 47 was inexcuseable. Being on FFN sucks because I don't have, like, a board to post on to keep you guys in the loop with what's going on. I could just post a chapter about what's happening and an explanation, but I feel like that's such a disappointment if you were really waiting for a chapter. I try to update at least every other week, if not sooner than that, but a gap lasting over a month!? I felt awful. Anyways, if you liked the Mistletoe chapter, then I know you loved this one. We're getting to the stabilizing period of Wolfstar with lots of fluff, so I think you guys can let a breath of relief out for the angst because it'll be a while before we have Wolfstar related angst. : ) Regarding your earlier review, I am literally crying. I feel like I'm terrible at characterization and maintaining personalities, but you've reassured me. I suck at father-son relationships especially because I am a girl who was raised by a single mother. So the fact you think that is good makes me feel ecstatic!
i0613085482: Thank you for the compliment! That made me so happy. Regarding your request, I'm going back this week and updating the chapter headers, and I'll make sure to specify the years. I'm just really good with math, so the grade years were obvious for me, but I can see where it would be hard to keep up. Thank you for the suggestion! I think it'll help some people.
And finally, Lamp Light Reader: Chapter 44 (Until) was Heavy. I wasn't sure I was going to be able to write it, simply because I didn't want to do an info dump, you know. But I am so glad you liked it. It was a rollercoaster to write, honestly. It went better than I had planned it to. They were supposed to like fist fight, but I realized that would 100% deviate from 1) Remus' personality and 2) Sirius' need to protect Remus despite, sometimes, being the most toxic thing in his life aside from Remus' dad. So, it ended up a slightly happier ending than planned!