"The Seven-Year Itch"
Pairing: Sirius Black / Remus Lupin
Rating: "M" for slash and language.
DISCLAIMER: This story is fictional – that's F-I-C-T-I-O-N. It never happened, and is not real. It is the product of my own imagination. It contains descriptions of male slash (that's male/male homosexual relations). If you do not like this type of content, or if you find homosexuality or its practice offensive, please click the "Back" button or close your Internet browser NOW, and do not read any further. All characters and copyrights are owned by J.K Rowling and Warner Brothers™ (AOL Time Warner), but this story is owned by me and is all my own work.
There comes a point in every long-term couple's lives where things begin to get a little frustrating, a little… routine… There comes a point where at least one half of the couple realises that he or she will not be enjoying the company of anybody else for the formidable future. A point where at least one half of the couple starts to become a little bored… restless… get itchy feet…
This usually happens after the couple have been together for a few years. Long enough to be very much in love with each other, but longer than the so-called "honeymoon period" where everything is new and exciting. Where one partner seems like a favourite book – worn, dog-eared and every page of the story is well-read and practically memorised – yet the other begins to pine that he or she may not be able to read a new plot again.
This often happens when the two people involved have been together forever. When they got together at the age of, let's say, fifteen. When they both lost their innocence with each other. And now, that couple are aged (for the sake of argument) twenty-two years old, one will perhaps start to remember that he or she has never known, and will probably never know, the sensuous, mysterious, intriguing and mesmerising touch of another deep, pulsating specimen of raw, red-hot, pure and unadulterated masculinity…
But I digress…
Sorry.
Ahem!
Statistically, this feeling is most likely to sink in after the relationship has been going on for seven years. This is why it is called the "Seven-Year Itch". And usually it is only one partner who feels it at first. And when that partner does begin to feel it, the other does not usually enjoy being informed so. This other partner usually gets a little bit annoyed, and the couple sometimes have a little… discussion…
And so it was that Lily found a disgruntled and frustrated Sirius parked on her sofa at three in the morning, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts and a grin. Lily, suffice to say, was not amused – this had to be the third time in as many weeks. So, saying a silent vow in her head which involved her husband, a very sharp carving-knife and the word "testicles", Lily took a deep breath and turned to the grinning Mr. Black.
"Sirius!" she sang out in a voice practically drowning in sarcasm. "So lovely to see you! I take it that you're staying over – again?"
"Lily, my dear!" Sirius replied. "That I am. Sorry about not telling you and all, but Jimbo said that it'd be fine with the management, like."
"I see." In Lily's mind's eye, the carving knife was slowly turning into a chainsaw. "And for what reason do we have the pleasure of your company tonight?"
"Well, I just thought that I'd pop by, you know? See my two favourite bestest friends in the whole wide world? Especially since one of them is pregnant with my Godson or Goddaughter at this present moment in time!" Lily's stare informed him that not even adding "and looking so fabulous as always, dear!" to the end of his last sentence would improve her mood at present.
"He kicked you out again, didn't he?"
"Yeah."
"And what tiny, trivial little thing is Remus being completely unreasonable about this time?"
"Oh, he's just in another one of his moods… or rather, not in the moods…"
Lily sighed. Deeply. She was constantly sorting out Sirius and Remus's sex life these days, and all because Sirius always seemed to do something, or say something, to completely bugger everything up every now and again. In fact, it was a wonder that Remus hadn't decided to withdraw sex for the next ten years by now.
"What did you do?"
"Nothing. That's the point!" Sirius replied, wincing at the severity of the stare coming from the pregnant witch's eyes; a stare which, if it had arms, would have reached out and beaten him repeatedly across the face with a fire-poker.
"All right," Lily sighed again. "What did you say?"
"Um…" Sirius squirmed under Lily's stare, which seemed to have learned to reach new heights of unbelievable nastiness since the last time that she had used it. "Words were said. At certain points. Regarding certain activities…"
"Words…" The stare dropped another ten degrees in temperature.
"Erm… It might have been mentioned that things… activities… were getting a little… mundane?"
"Yes?"
And I might have made a tiny suggestion regarding such aforementioned activities…a suggestion that he got all sensitive about. Well, what d'you expect? It is nearly his time of the m –"
"Don't even think about finishing that sentence, Sirius!"
"Sorry, Lily."
"And what may this suggestion have been?"
"It might have been interesting to reinstate the middleman, so to speak… The phrase 'objective observer' came up… The name 'Peter' was mentioned… Then it starts getting a little hazy…" Lily stood in silence. She had never been struck dumb before, and she was damned if Sirius was going to be the first man to do so.
"Peter. Peter? Peter! Wh-wh-why the fuck would you… PETER!"
"Oh, come on, Lils! Peter Francis Pettigrew is so obviously deep in the closet that he's giving Aslan a blowjob! It would probably have done him some good…" Lily had no choice but to agree on this point. She had had some grave suspicions about Mrs. Pettigrew's son for years. However, she couldn't let Sirius know that the feeling was mutual, otherwise she would have lost the argument, and Merlin knew that Sirius would proceed in making it his life-long duty to ensure that she never, ever forgot it. So instead, she opted for cooling her icy stare some more and rolling her eyes towards the Heavens for help.
"Sirius Black, you do know that you are absolutely un-be-liev-able sometimes, don't you?" It was not a question. "Shit, Sirius! Even bloody Snape would get 'all sensitive' over that one! You've just hit the seven-year itch, that's all!" And with that, she retired to her bedroom, swiftly ejecting her cherished husband from the marital boudoir on her way.
Later on that morning, Lily trudged back downstairs to find Sirius still there.
"Still here?"
"Yes."
"Why don't you go back home?" She asked. "Sort this out? Kiss and make up?"
"Can't. Remus kicked me out."
"For fuck's sake, Sirius! Have you even tried talking to him? Apologising, perhaps?"
"I tried. He sulked."
"And…?"
"I tried some more. I ended up here. And he wouldn't even let me get some clothes on, first."
"Mr. Black. Could I make a suggestion? Go home! Go home and grovel. Otherwise you'll be spending a lot more time on this sofa, and you'll be getting an awful lot of exercise out of your right hand, 'cause you certainly won't be getting any from anywhere else!" And without giving him a chance to say any more, she threw a handful of Floo powder into the fire, shouted Sirius's address, dragged him off her sofa and threw him into the emerald-green flames.
"Remus?" Sirius called out, emerging from the fire-place in his own living-room.
"I'm in he-e-re!" came a reply from the kitchen. Sirius walked over to the kitchen door, curious. Usually, Remus would be upstairs, locked in the bedroom, shouting curses at him; not calling for him. He opened the door, only to find Remus sitting at the table. Naked. Naked, grinning and waiting for Sirius to join him. Sirius walked over to his boyfriend, thinking best how to grovel.
"Remus, I'm really s–" but he never finished his apology, because Remus had reached his head up and kissed him, and the next thing he knew was that the both of them had ended up entangled on the floor. It was then that Sirius noticed that Remus was clutching a fishbowl in his lap.
"Remus? What is that?"
"What?"
"That! That thing between your legs."
"Sirius, I'd have thought you'd know that by now!"
"Ha bloody ha. In the bowl, idiot!"
"It's a goldfish, Sirius."
"What?"
"A goldfish, and his name is Peter."
"Eh? Have you gone mad or something?"
"Well, you did say that you wanted Peter to watch…" And whether or not Sirius had ever been serious about wanting Peter to watch was irrelevant, because an hour later the poor pet goldfish had gotten an eyeful of lots of new activities which he certainly had never seen back in the pet shop…