101-150
discover a new you
Chapter Summary
reason number eight to go to michigan: discover a new you.
Chapter Notes
as always, i do not own these characters, i am simply borrowing them
mild TW: for grief/death mention (but it shouldn't be a surprise because uh, it's in canon and embedded in the story already)
*no notes, just love, just gratitude, just light.
*feel free to scream about this chapter to me on tumblr- @greyeyedmonster-18
Remus made it to the airport, making the long drive after stopping for coffee, hoping the best damn cherry latte would prolong his agent completely losing her mind at him. Dorcas only had a small duffle over her shoulder--her own flight just as impulsive as the one Remus had taken almost six months ago--and she was easy to spot in her teal duster coat and her over the knee boots, an outfit straight out of New York that looked dreadfully out of place in the midwest.
"Oh good, you didn't leave me here," she said smiling at him, and even if the circumstances were less than ideal, Remus was glad to have his friend here. She was something familiar. She wrapped her arms around him in a fond embrace, her hand patting the side of his face with a little
more power than was necessary.
"Thought about it."
"And I thought about dropping your stubborn, talented ass, so it looks like we both did each other favors," she responded quickly and Remus chuckled. "You look good, Remus."
"Thanks, I've been tanning."
She laughed and shook her head, Remus grabbing her bag from her and tossing it into the backseat of his sensible car, that looked so stupid last night parked next to Sirius's. He couldn't help but laugh a little at Dorcas next to him, shivering at cold temperatures that made New York winters feel like a balmy summer day.
"I brought you coffee," he said, extending the iced latte as a peace offering of sorts to his agent.
"I would much rather have your pages, but...this will do for now. Now...tell me where are we going?"
"Paradise," Remus responded, as he put the car into drive, a two hour drive the only thing leftt before the inevitable arrived and his time had officially run out.
Dorcas was all business, dropping her duffle in Remus' living room, after he had pushed open the door to his home, and waited for him to press send on an email. Remus could no longer delay handing over his pages, not when his editor had flown miles to get them hand-delivered. She disappeared into the office of Remus' house to send them off and begin reading herself while Remus stared at the hole in his door where the handle used to be. He and Marlene had made a trip to the hardware store, the blonde taking no shame in asking almost every single worker every question she could think of about doors, but even then Remus's best solution had been to seal up the hole with tape, and kick it open, as he had been doing for the past two weeks. Handles and screws were discarded by the front table.
It still rattled.
Remus picked up his phone, acknowledging the clock for the first time that day. 11 am.
Sirius was up. Usually, Remus would just be starting his day and would have woken up to a text from Sirius, innocent and lovely. Remus wished for a brief moment he had left Dorcas at the airport; ignored the phone call entirely and stayed in bed with Sirius and his messy curly hair. But Remus had to remember that Dorcas, among other things, was kind of his boss. And even if they got on, even if it felt like Dorcas was the only friend he had left in New York, she had the power to pull the plug at any moment and Remus would watch the statues he had built fall and crumble into pieces. And Remus still wanted the success so badly. He had taken the time in this frozen, tiny wasteland to go through boxes of his relationship past on the nights he couldn't sleep, and slowly begin the process of stitching up open wounds with rope and barbed wire and anything else he could find. No matter the clarity, and the healing, Remus realized he still wanted to return to New York, and Dorcas held the keys in her hand.
When he first landed, he sat in the dark of his childhood bedroom, trying to transport himself six months from that moment. A year even.
Imagine you are telling yourself a story, many years from now, about how you wrote your second book by taking time to reconnect to your roots.
Imagine yourself talking to other writers, telling them to go find joy in seeing sunsets on the lake, and sitting on your front porch with a cup of hot tea, because it encourages creativity.
Imagine yourself put back together, walking around New York without the extra 180 pounds weighing you down.
Imagine flying again.
Remus hadn't imagined--in any world, in any scenario, in any situation-- that he would find himself almost on the other side with someone new. With someone whose name sounded so good next to his own.
Remus. And Sirius.
Sorry I left so early.
My agent booked a flight here to talk about book things with me. I left to pick her up at the airport.
Sounds serious
It's fine.
Hopefully.
Last pages of my book.
You were done with those weeks ago?
Months.
Yeah.
Let's call it crippling anxiety.
You're the best novelist I know.
Do you collect us?
Just you.
Remus smiled softly. But the fondness was quickly replaced with a newfound sadness. How did you respond to such a text when you knew that you'd be breaking someone's heart in a matter of... days? Maybe hours?
Can I still call you tonight?
Or is this your way of telling me you're very famous and very busy?
Please call.
Please stop biting at your nails
Your book will get the love, I know it.
How?
I'm a prickly ass.
Yeah
But after that? Damn.
Damn. Damn. Damn. Damn. Dammit to hell.
Why'd you wait?
Because you give the love out.
It's an exchange. How could anyone not like it when it came from you?
Closer to 2 years ago than 1 year ago.
"Can't we just talk about it, Re?" asked Benjy, standing in the middle of the flat they once shared. It was funny. Because two weeks ago Remus wouldn't have guessed he'd be standing here, fighting back tears and swear words and potentially vomit, fighting with the man he would've done anything for. But that was before Remus came home from his book tour early--an idea he thought was charming and romantic and something straight out of a romantic comedy; the big gesture, the Ross and Rachel "I got off the plane" moment, the "baby, I was missing the way your arms felt around my body and came home because this was the only place I wanted to be"--only to find his husband in bed with another man.
In their bed with another man.
Remus was known to be rational. Even-tempered. Patient and calm. Except in that moment. It was an out-of-body experience. Someone else's hands had pulled the covers off the bed without a word. Someone else had said "Get the fuck out of my home," and nothing else to the both of them, dropping clothes out the window and onto the street below, neither Benjy nor the strange man having time to grab anything other than a stray t-shirt to hide their privates on their way out. Someone else's hands locked the door and someone else's uncaring ears ignored the pleas from Benjy for the next hour, turning up the record player as loud as it would go. Someone else drank an entire bottle of wine.
Someone else cried and fell asleep on the couch.
But two weeks later, it was very much Remus who had initiated the conversation they were having complete with cardboard boxes given to his husband (what did you call someone you were about to divorce but were still technically married to except for a stupid piece of shit?) to get his stuff out of his home.
"What's there to talk about? You keep saying that and I can't think of a damn thing I need to talk about with you."
"So you're angry, but couples go through this kind of thing!"
Remus folded his arms over his chest, unmoving, unfazed by Benjy's arguments. He kicked a cardboard box with his foot, "Great for them. I'm thrilled for those other couples who go through it and come back stronger than ever!" Remus imitated sarcastically, "I'm not interested in that. I am interested in you packing your shit up and getting out of my home."
"It's our home."
"You're not even on the lease. You haven't paid rent in...what over a year? It's not ours."
"Re--"
"Pack your shit up," Remus said tightly through a clenched jaw.
"You were gone all the time and I was--"
"So you fucked someone else?! I am so sorry, not having your husband here to cater to your every need must've been so fucking hard for Mr. Look at Me! Look at Me!"
"We were arguing before you left and I...I was weak and--"
"I don't care, Benjy. I care so little, I could fall asleep listening to this. I don't care what your reasons were," Remus told him, bending down to pick up the box and pushing it into Benjy's arms, "Start with your clothes in the bedroom. And when you're done, you can get your stupid self-help books out of my bookcase."
And Benjy rolled his eyes, "Of course, the fabulous novelist cares that my books are ruining his pretentious library."
"You're right, I do." shrugged Remus, "How about you use 'The Power of Positive Fucking Thinking' to help you get your stuff out of here."
"You're being such an--"
"At least I'm not a liar and a cheater," spat Remus, and Benjy dropped the box to the ground again, Remus fighting against his instincts to just go pack it up himself. Because he wasn't going to do a damn thing for this man anymore.
"You've changed. That book? Changed you."
"No, it didn't," Remus shook his head, "It just changed who you thought I was." "Well, I don't like that man."
"And I don't like the man who fucks other people, so...looks like we finally agree." "Stop saying that."
"What? Fuck? Would you like me to use a different word? How else should I describe coming home and seeing you on top of another man's dick?" He saw a tiny blush of shame tint Benjy's face, and he took a step back, satisfied that though he felt defenseless and stripped of everything he once thought to be important...he still had his words. "If you won't fucking pack, then how about we talk about filing divorce papers."
"What?"
"Divorce, Benjy."
"I think you're overreacting."
Remus actually laughed this time, "Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable. You think so little of me...you think I'd forgive you? You think I want to be with someone who rushes to find someone else the second I, god forbid, have other priorities other than bending over backward for you?"
"No, I think you're forgiving. It's what I loved about you." "See that?"
"What?"
"Loved. This has been over for a while, and neither of us had the courage to admit it. So...I'm doing it now. I want a divorce. I can't be with someone who's a cheater and even more, I can't be with someone who thinks I'd be okay with that." Remus told him firmly, surprised that his voice wasn't shaking when he spoke. Had Remus lost himself so much to Benjy that his husband thought he could cross any boundary? Invade any territory, do as he pleased without consequence? And no matter what, Remus would come back like a boomerang, ready to take the next hit?
"I..."
"Get your stuff. I'm done."
Remus sat on the couch as Benjy proceeded to go room by room, packing up the boxes Remus had provided with his belongings until their apartment was filled with holes. Empty walls where Benjy's artwork had been; a half-empty closet and dresser; a kitchen that was missing matching cups because Remus's own were a conglomerate of every place he had ever been and didn't bother buying a set from a shop. He didn't even lend a hand as Benjy brought boxes down the steps and loaded them into his car, a few left behind that didn't fit.
"Well..." Benjy said, "I'll...come back for those."
"I'll ship them."
"Remus, that's stupid."
"Maybe but I'll be stupid if it means you don't step foot in here again. Do you want the bed too? I'll have it delivered."
"I..." Benjy exhaled, and looked up at Remus, "I didn't want to hurt you."
"Of course not, that's why you lied and did it when I was away. You didn't think I'd even find out."
"It wasn't easy, Remus."
"Finding someone else to bring home?"
"No." The other man shook his head, wrapping his arms around himself, "I didn't expect it to be so hard watching you...get everything you ever wanted. You were gone and...I felt left behind."
Remus furrowed his brow, flashbacks of the last 9 years running through his mind, replaying scenes from their relationship on a film for him to see. It was the same reel Remus had watched while crying the past two weeks, trying to figure out if he played a role in this.
And he did. Of course, he did.
Remus had been imperfect and the adjustment from barista to novelist gave him whiplash. The adjustment from being stepped on literally and metaphorically to someone people moved out of the way for was a lot to manage and Remus had written down the moments he was less than the world's best husband.
But he always apologized. He apologized for more than necessary, even.
And Benjy? Well...Remus was still waiting for the "I'm sorry" that should've come after bringing another man into their home and being caught red-handed.
"I'm sorry." Remus tried one last time, "That's a nasty way to make someone feel. Left behind, and...my actions played a part in that. I'm sorry."
Silence.
"Thanks." Remus closed his eyes and hoped the same words would follow. He would've waited forever.
"Fucking hell, Benjy. Just go."
"I thought you were the love of my life." The redhead picked up the last box off the ground, "I... thought it was cute when you told me you wanted to be a writer. You know? I...thought it was so endearing and you had these kind eyes and those freckles and...I just thought it was a dream and it was cute and we'd...have a nice life together. I didn't think you would actually do it."
And those words were the final nail in the coffin. The knife in his back and salt in the wound. "...You...didn't think I'd ever be a writer? A published one?"
"No. I didn't."
"Get out."
Remus passed the time waiting for Dorcas to read the pages and send them off on Marlene's porch, the blonde coming out with a bottle of tequila as soon as she saw Remus' face. Alcohol blanket met with copious amounts of real blankets had Remus suddenly feeling much less daunted by what was going to come. Sort of. The sun was getting lower in the sky by the time Dorcas pushed the door open, her heels clomping on the wooden porch.
"You weren't kidding about your door, were you Lupin?" she remarked loudly, and Remus turned over his shoulder looking back at Dorcas and Marlene did the same.
"No, I told you it needed to be fixed!"
Marlene nudged him in the arm roughly, "You failed to mention your agent was a total fuckin' babe." Marlene said before sitting up and raising her voice, "Hey! I couldn't help but notice you are way too pretty for me not to know your first name. You drink tequila?"
"Marlene, we are not --"
"I would love a shot of tequila," Dorcas responded just as loud, her heels matching the vocal volume, and Remus raised an eyebrow in amusement at his agent's attempt to look graceful walking through snow in 3-inch heels. The most graceful newborn deer Remus had ever seen, Dorcas' arms spread wide for balance, finally making it to the railing of Marlene's porch, dark eyes immediately falling onto the blonde.
"And here we have the best part of my day so far," Dorcas said, and suddenly Remus had never felt more invisible.
All the parties he went to with Benjy where he had been walked by.
Kids in high school who couldn't even remember his name despite living there his entire life.
The time someone sat on him on the subway not realizing he was there.
Paled in comparison to how it felt to witness Dorcas and Marlene introduce themselves to one another, exchanging smiles that should've been saved for behind closed doors.
"Am I interrupting?" asked Remus somewhere between Marlene asking about Dorcas' flight in a way so unlike the usual straight-shooter Marlene he usually got, and Dorcas initiating a shot for them to take together in honor of her arrival.
"Yes actually," Marlene told him, smirking slightly after finishing her shot, putting the glass back on the table, "In fact, how much do you want, I'll pay you to not be here right now."
"Pay me?" Remus asked and Dorcas was already laughing.
"Yeah, with money. I think I have a twenty on me..." Marlene reached into the back pocket of her jeans, gasping as she pulled out a twenty-dollar bill, handing it to Remus with a wide smile, "Buy yourself something nice and come back in...a few hours."
"Fuck you."
"Not interested," Marlene counted and Remus rolled his eyes, bending forward to pour another tequila shot. "Or , you could go just over there and figure out how to fix your door, because it sounds like you're leaving soon and I'm not spending another 5 years listening to that shit creek and moan every time it--" but Marlene stopped, "You know what, leave it. A door that's all cranky fits the owner."
"You're hilarious."
"She is," Dorcas said, taking the shot from Remus and holding it in her hand. She was sitting cross- legged on the chair, her eyes still fixated on Marlene, "Now I know why you stayed here so long..."
"Oh, I'm not the reason," Marlene said, also taking a glass and Remus shot her a look. One that Marlene ignored either because of the alcohol or because she couldn't care, the blonde gasping in realization, and slapping Remus' knee a few times, "Hey! You--"
"You're spilling."
"What about it?" she asked
"You're spilling on me ."
"Again," Marlene shrugged and Dorcas continued to laugh, "You know who does know how to fix a door? And could probably help?"
"Don't say it." "Sirius."
"Who's Sirius?" asked Dorcas, and Marlene immediately let out an obnoxious cackle, the contents of her shot glass further spilling onto Remus's arm.
"You haven't told her? Shit, New York, you're in deep, aren't you?"
"Who's Sirius?"
"Gold. Your face looks so stupid right now."
"My face looks fine," Remus insisted, glowering at Marlene, as she leaned back against her chair, and Remus finally wiped his arm off.
"I love this moment so much, I want to sleep with it. You really didn't tell her?" "Somebody better! Who's Sirius?"
Remus sighed, raising his glass into the air, "The one fucking reason I'm still in Michigan."
After enduring a very long conversation with Dorcas and Marlene that consisted of the former saying, I should've seen this coming, I knew you weren't just soul searching out here and Marlene not helping by showing Dorcas pictures of Sirius she had taken (and demanding pictures of The Fuckwad Ex-Husband in return), Remus had managed to convince her to stay the weekend. To stay until he had a chance to meet Sirius in person one more time.
To stay just a few more days.
Just in case a miracle happened and the thought of leaving the Upper Peninsula would no longer
leave him feeling afraid and sick to his stomach. --
"You don't want to go in there," Harry looked up at Remus from where he was sitting in the art gallery, one of his legs drawn up under his chin, staring at the blank wall where the big blue painting had formerly been. Sirius had skipped out on Rosmerta's that day, telling him to come to the studio in the afternoon instead, and that was just as well because Remus had endured a mass interrogation from Dorcas and had a meeting with the publishing house about the final pages.
A success.
A true page-turner
Effortlessly brilliant
Remus could hear vague voices coming from behind the closed door that lead to Sirius' studio.
"They're having a business meeting," Harry said, "I only know because when I walked in Sirius was in actual business clothes and not in artist clothes. He only does that when he's meeting with other people and not just Uncle Reg."
Remus sat down next to Harry, leaning forward onto his knees, "Is it...going well?"
Harry winced a little, "I don't know. Sometimes I forget that Sirius had this whole other life before we came here and it's...weird to hear him talk about numbers and stuff I don't understand."
"Yeah."
"Mhmm..." Harry muttered, his chin going to rest on his knee cap and Remus stared at his untied shoes.
"How...was school," Remus offered, hating as he asked the question. He had spent more time with Harry, certainly, but it didn't mean he was prepared to suddenly be alone with the kid. Especially when he was really there to bear bad news and beg for a home renovation.
"You don't need to pretend to be interested. We can skip the small talk." Remus snorted, "I like your style. I hate small talk."
"No one tells the truth anyway. And when I do, I'm suddenly rude. But if I'm not doing good, I'm not going to pretend I am and say so."
"I know the feeling."
"Sirius hates it...when I'm rude. He always says that if I don't want to do the small talk, I should come up with other questions to ask them, but that's a lot of work."
"I just assume not say anything."
"Yeah...I'm bad at that too." Harry said, "What did you do today? Before coming?"
"I uh...tried to fix my door. Again. It's been...making noise since I got here. I ended up breaking it two weeks ago because I know nothing about doors and there's just a big hole where the knob used to be. And...I tried to put a new one in but couldn't figure out how the screws work, so I went on youtube, and...tried again and when I thought I finally did, it still rattled." Remus told him, and Harry made a small noise in the back of his throat, "What did you do today?"
"I got suspended today."
"Oh, you win. That beats my door story."
"Do I get a plaque?"
"I'll make you a really shitty one out of clay," and Harry laughed softly, "Sorry I probably shouldn't have...wait you're thirteen, you can say shit, can't you?"
"I can say anything I want. The real question is if I'm going to get in trouble for it." "I won't tell."
"It's not real suspension..it's in-school suspension, but Sirius has to sign a paper to confirm he was notified. I don't think he's checked his phone yet or else I think he would've stopped the business meeting..."
"So maybe it's a good thing he's arguing with your Uncle?" "For now." Harry shrugged, "He's...going to be pissed."
"Probably." and Harry turned his head towards Remus, a scowl on his face, "Hey, you said you preferred honestly. You want me to pretend he isn't going to be?"
"I guess not," Harry said, his voice muffled slightly by his elbow that was now wrapped around his knee cap. Harry was a talkative kid. Harry was a smart-mouthed and funny kid, but he was also deeply sensitive. And maybe that meant it didn't matter who he talked to if he was feeling, but Remus couldn't help but think he was the wrong person for this conversation entirely.
"I'm not going to pretend to know anything about your relationship or...that I've been here forever or that I know the first thing about having a teenager but...from what I can tell, Sirius is also very understanding. And you might make it out unscathed."
"Might?"
"There's always a percentage that you won't. Ever seen Sweeny Todd?" "No."
"Well, it's about a barber who kills people, and then sends them to the baker next door who turns their bodies into meat pies," Remus said and realized this was quite possibly the worst pep-talk in
the history of the world, Harry's expression going from curious to confused to a little alarmed at the connection Remus was making. "Anyway...Sirius could murder you and I'm sure find a way to put your body into his pottery...I've seen those needle tools." Remus finished and sucked in air through his teeth, "I...uhm...that was a better comparison in my head. Sorry."
"You're really weird, you know that?"
"I...uhm...yeah." Harry laughed softly, picking at the hem of his jeans, "Can...I ask why? You know, as a sounding board. So I can confirm if you'll be murdered or not?
"It's Mr. Snape, again. He teaches Science..." Harry looked at Remus briefly, "He's hated me for...ever. Since we got here. And...we have to do a project in class about our family tree and genetics and...I told him I didn't want to. I asked even if I could do something different--like do a celebrity, you know? And he said no." Harry said, "And I hate shit like that because it's...just another reminder that I'm the kid who moved here because his parents died," Remus sat up a little straighter at the information. Perhaps Harry had assumed Sirius had told him that already. Perhaps Harry didn't care if Remus knew at all and was just searching in unlikely places for support. But either way, Remus was definitely the wrong person for this conversation.
There's stuff in the middle but that's a story for another time.
Sirius' voice played in the back of Remus' mind as Harry continued speaking, "And it's...stupid because the assignment is to ask your parents and your grandparents and...I dunno, maiden names, and hair colors and stuff? Sirius can do his best but he doesn't have answers to everything and...I don't even know if he could find them. So I loudly refused to do the assignment and he didn't like that and...yeah."
"Well, if that's the truth--"
"It is!"
"Then I don't see how Sirius can be mad at you." "It just sucks."
"Yeah, it does. I'm sorry about your parents." "Mm..thanks."
"Do you miss them?"
"Yeah..." Harry muttered, "Sirius says it's good to talk about them and think about them...he makes me talk about them with a therapist twice a month...but it's different when it's a school project. I think everyone would be very interested in Marshawn Lynch's genetic background. And that's just a google search, not an extra counseling session this month..."
"Who?"
"Seattle Seahawks? Running back?"
"I don't know what about me says sports fan to you but uh...I'm sorry for giving you that impression" and Harry laughed before letting out a powerful breath, slumping further on the bench. "You know...I went to Hogwarts too," Remus told him, "And...I wasn't the kid whose parents died. But I...was the kid with the scar on his face," Remus said, "And...the kid who worked at his parent's restaurant...and the kid who ate lunch alone a lot and...it's not the same, but I...know
what it's like to feel like everyone's looking at you for the worst reasons. That sucks too." "It really sucks."
"Wha--" Remus was about to say something that was hopefully comforting to the boy who was clearly ruminating in his own anxiety and stress about breaking bad news to Sirius, but the door to the studio opened. Remus could've sworn he heard Harry say something way fouler than shit under his breath, neither of them moving from the bench as Sirius and Regulus walked out, both in business attire.
Remus had a hard time deciding if he preferred Sirius shirtless in his bedroom or well-dressed in an art gallery. Sirius was already rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows, tattoos being slowly revealed like a magic picture. Enthralling. A mystery, a show, a game. There was something about the way his black trousers fit, and the way he had neatly braided his hair that day that made Remus's blood pressure skyrocket and his heart skip over beats.
"Sorry about that," started Regulus, Sirius walking towards the two of them with a smile on his face. The kind that said I'm just happy you're here . Remus' favorite. "I really didn't think the meeting would go so long and then we had to debrief but--"
"You mean, argue?" asked Harry
"Actually not," Sirius responded, now standing in front of Harry who had started to squirm on the bench, "Just...chatted and it ran ..long...okay, what's going on on?" Sirius asked
"Don't look at me like that." "Like what?"
"Like I'm not telling you something..." Harry mumbled, bending to go into his school bag which was on the other side of the bench, "It's not fair that you can just look at me and know what's going on..."
"Call it a superpower," Sirius said, and bent down so he was on Harry's level, quickly shooting Remus' an apologetic look and Remus shrugged. If anything, Harry was doing him a favor. Surely suspension wouldn't make leaving the lesser offense. "Spit it out, kid."
Harry didn't speak though, only handed Sirius a pink piece of paper from his backpack that Sirius immediately recognized. So did Regulus, judging by the sharp inhale of breath behind him, followed by a sigh. Sirius read the paper, Harry's leg beginning to bounce, and folded it neatly.
"Today...was a busy day."
"Yeah."
"Yeah," Remus agreed.
"Did you get suspended too?" asked Sirius, raising an eyebrow.
"Remus broke his door," Harry explained for him as Sirius stood up, the paper going into the back pocket of his trousers before he extended both of his hands to Remus and Harry respectively.
"Well, Reg and I just had a very long meeting. And I think, personally , doors and suspension can wait for a little," Sirius said, and looked down at Harry, "How would you feel about recycling some clay? Regulus was just saying how cluttered my studio was getting."
"I didn't say that, I said that you should invest in more shelving." "Why do that when we can just...break some things."
A small smile appeared on Harry's face, an expression that looked like it was about to burst into tears transforming instantly, "Really?"
"Yes, really."
"You're not going to shout at--"
"Harry, Harry, love, sweetheart," Regulus cut the boy off, his hands coming to rest on Harry's shoulders, giving them a squeeze, "Don't question it. He said the same thing to me after finishing our meeting, just...let this happen."
"Okay, okay, never mind, I didn't do anything, no shouting, I'm perfect in every way and I've never done anything wrong and definitely didn't call Mr. Snape a rotten dick-chugger...!" Harry said quickly, voice trailing behind him as he ran off to Sirius' studio, apparently ready for whatever Sirius had planned, Regulus following behind him with a reminder to slow down . Once they were alone, Remus reached a hand up to Sirius' hair, finding the indentations of the braid and grey eyes.
And that was all it took. A glance. A second.
"What's going on?" Sirius asked, his voice low and gentle. "That's some superpower..."
"Here I thought it only worked on thirteen-year-olds," he said and Remus broke the eye contact first, looking down at their feet standing toe to toe, brown boots meeting expensive black dress shoes. He moved closer, so their toes would meet and so when he looked up, he was as close to Sirius as he could be in public without being arrested. He could smell the woodsy soap he used.
He wanted to stay there, in that art gallery, looking. Touching.
Like the night Remus was first hit by the all-encompassing spell that was Sirius Black; melting into a puddle between porcelain sculptures and the most radiant smile he had ever known.
The night that reminded him that he was somebody.
Remus looked up, "I...Would you be able to come fix my door? I...tomorrow? I know it's last minute, I'd make you dinner in exchange, but Marlene will kill me if I don't fix it before I leave." Sirius's eyes closed, cutting off contact, and he titled his head back, though his hands stayed tethered to Remus' waist. "I'm sorry," Remus told him. That was the least he could do.
"Don't...," Sirius brought his face back to Remus, fingers intertwining with his hand once more and squeezing tightly, "Let's go break some shit, yeah? There's no need to be sorry."
In ceramics, Remus learned, from throwing pottery that Sirius put aside against the walls of the gallery, that you could use the broken fragments from old pieces that didn't turn out quite right, or as well as you'd hoped, put them in a bucket and with enough...water and attention, it could be turned into new clay.
This clay was then used to make...beautiful, interesting sort of things. Things that wouldn't be broken. The process isn't glamorous, or so Sirius said. A long, laborious, time-consuming effort of tending to mush that occasionally still had sharp pieces left inside and he would remove his hands from the muddy, water bucket to discover a piece had cut into his finger. But the end was worth it, because...the clay worked all the same as it did before, but this time it was formed into something that was worth keeping.
Remus learned all that while spending the afternoon laughing until his cheeks hurt, smashing pots and vases and smaller sculptures, following Sirius' instructions to let out the rage ; watching as Sirius used a pot as a baseball, Harry hitting it with the end of a broom, running around the table in a loop; and then finally as he used the same broom to help clean up.
Not everything has to last. I wasn't expecting you to . You make new things.
--
Sirius fixed Remus' door in about an hour. The rest of the time Sirius spent laughing at the hack- job Remus had attempted and making fun of him with Marlene.
Dorcas spent it whispering to Remus that he had upgraded and traded Benjy in for a much better model when Sirius stepped outside.
Marlene popped a celebratory bottle of champagne when Sirius closed the door, the hinges no longer squeaking, the handle firmly in place and functional and even when Sirius pulled on it, didn't feel loose.
Remus invited Sirius to watch the sunset with him on the lake--realizing that while he had missed several meetings and appointments and birthdays of friends, he hadn't missed a single sunset. That he had lost his cell phone a fair few times but hadn't lost any hours of good sleep. It felt like a trade-off. Or at best, a balancing act on a tightrope that Remus hadn't quite figured out yet.
But it was simpler with Sirius and that was all he wanted it to be. Just dinner in his house.
Just the two of them on Remus' couch until it was dark outside. Remus felt like a kid on Christmas who was told it was bedtime, laying awake and willing himself not to blink because if he fell asleep the day would be over and the magic would be gone and the happiness would slip away into the night. If he moved from the couch, if he stopped looking and talking with Sirius, he would disappear. It would be over.
Doors fixed.
Here's your heart back.
Have a nice life.
"Where's this from? I've never asked you," Sirius ran his finger delicately along the scar on Remus' face, tracing it the entire length.
"You're going to laugh."
"Probably."
"My...parent's owned a restaurant here growing up, the Moonlight Diner, and I used to work there. You know those family restaurants you go to and see a young kid wiping off menus or carrying trays? That was me," Remus said, "But, I'm clumsy and one day I was carrying glasses back to the kitchen when I tripped and hit the edge of the counter instead. It was graphic for anyone who was trying to eat that day." Sirius did laugh, a tiny rumbling one that Remus could feel from where his hand was resting on his chest.
"Where's the restaurant now?"
"Closed. They sold it a while back when they figured out I wouldn't be coming to take over the business."
"I'm sad I never got to eat there."
"I'll...send you a pie. I think I still know how to make them. They were famous for their pies."
"Wholesome midwest values underneath the New York attitude...hm," Sirius commented and Remus rolled his eyes, letting Sirius' hand slide under his head on the back of the couch. A tattooed hand for a pillow. Another one for a blanket. "You're not as hard as you make yourself out to be."
"The last five years...did a number on me, I suppose. Really the last...year and a half," Remus said, eyes taking in long eyelashes and dark eyebrows. Sirius had his own scar on his eyebrow, though his was less jarring and noticeable than Remus'.
"I get that." Sirius said, "They..did a number on me too."
I'm just the kid whose parent's died...
"Harry...told me about his parents...in a roundabout sort of way," Remus's fingers went to intertwine with Sirius', "Moreso that they're..no longer here."
"When he'd do that?"
"When you were in your meeting...we got to talking. Sirius nodded slowly, "I...knew but I didn't really know...He doesn't exactly look like you and I put some pieces...together. You know, using common sense, unlike when I thought Harry was your husband."
"No," Sirius laughed, a lopsided smile lingering on his face at the memory of Remus being a total fucking idiot, "Good thing too. I think. He looks a lot like his Dad actually, and...he doesn't always like that but I think one day he'll be glad for it. I'm surprised he told you, he doesn't like to talk about it much."
"Did I upset him?"
"He's thirteen, sometimes stray dogs upset him and sometimes fractions do and sometimes I do and sometimes nothing does. I can't keep track," Sirius said easily, "But...he didn't mention it to me, and if he was angry, he would've said it straight to you anyway."
"...Is that the middle part between rehab and now?"
Sirius nodded again bringing Remus' hand up to his neck, an invisible cue of comfort, something Remus noticed Sirius did when he was stressed out. He would find Remus' hand and put it on his
neck. Closer. "They passed when he was about 10..so three years ago. On Halloween. I was babysitting him so they could have a date night and...it got later and later and they never came home. It wasn't until about 2 am that I got a phone call, telling me they had been in a car accident and I was both of their emergency contacts."
"Oh...Sirius." Remus' heart sank, watching Sirius' handsome face morph into a frown.
"I don't like talking about that bit but...it was hard for a very long time," Sirius looked down at their hands intertwined, "Harry came to live with me in Chicago, but I knew James and Lily would hate it if he was raised in the city and..I can't even describe how big of a mess it was. My job at the time wasn't really...James stayed at home, you know? And it was a new city and a new school for him and I...fucked up a lot."
"How'd you end up here of all places?"
"My family has a house on the lake in Michigan...we went to it over the summer, just wanting some space from the city and a space that was far from Harry's house. Something...different. We went fishing...and talked about where we wanted to live. He didn't know, I didn't know...so we decided to go camping instead. All summer before he started middle school. And we...found the Upper Peninsula and it was the first place that was quiet . It didn't feel so loud for either of us...so we stayed."
"...You camp?"
"With portable stoves and toilets, yes."
Remus smirked, "And your designer sleeping bags?" Sirius opened his mouth to refute the statement but couldn't, and Remus laughed lightly, "And...your brother came too?"
"He came after I got the house here and would call him every night in way over my head because I didn't know shit about raising a kid. " Sirius looked back up at Remus, his eyes less sad than when he had initially looked away. Remus had come to realize that Sirius always bloomed when he talked about Harry. A thing that had initially made him so jealous, back when Harry was a name of a man who spent his time with Sirius, he now found endearing. "Before Harry was born, James and I read the baby books together, so we could be ready, and then a little bit when he was a toddler but, I was high for a lot of it and had fallen behind on the literature. I must've bought an entire bookstore and I still didn't know shit. Reg packed up and moved in with us."
Remus tried to think if he had anyone in his life who would pack up and move states for him without him having to ask, and was struck with a certain sort of ache that..he couldn't. And he couldn't decide if it was because he had pushed them all away, or if Remus had given so much of himself to a marriage, that he hadn't cared if he lost people along the way.
"What are you thinking?" Sirius asked, Remus silent for too long.
"You have...far more pain than I would've ever thought," Remus said, his hand on the side of Sirius' face, speaking softly as if someone in the next room was going to hear them. As if Dorcas was anything but soundly asleep as she had been for the past several hours. Wanting Sirius to know these words were meant just for him, "I got divorced once and completely fell apart. You've been through so much more..."
"Human suffering isn't a competition," Sirius responded somberly.
"I just...mean that you have every reason in the world to be bitter and hateful and..." Remus
paused, thinking of the all the pamphlets of cynicism and defeat Sirius had been handed at his doorstep; a broken home, a drug addiction, the death of his two best friends, the impromptu raising of a kid that he was unprepared for...and Sirius still managed to say thank you . "You exude so much light. That's all."
"I didn't always."
"I don't think that's true." "You didn't know me."
"I know that...two people left you with their kid," Remus started, "I know...your brother thinks highly of you, he looks up to you and my guess is he's seen all of it. I also know that Harry thinks you've put the stars in the sky, that's how much light you give. I know enough." Remus ran the pad of his thumb across Sirius' cheekbone, "I'm doing a poor job of it, but I'm really just trying to tell you how...absolutely wonderful I think you are. And...I think you should know that." Sirius was quiet for a moment, just taking his time to look at Remus. "Fucker."
Sirius' face split open in a wide grin, laughing at the nasty name that had become a term of endearment, "That's better." he said, "You're not nearly as hard as you make yourself out to be... not as soft as someone would think but...big heart."
"You learn to toughen up quick in New York..." Remus trailed off and the state name hung in the air. Echoing off wooden floorboards, haunting both of them. "You're the best thing about this place."
"Marlene might be offended."
"I can handle Marlene..." Remus said and sighed, "I..." "When do you leave tomorrow?"
"Whenever I wake up..." Remus said, watching as Sirius stood up slowly from the couch. Watching as Sirius did the hard thing, and started to show himself out of Remus' house because god knows Remus wouldn't have had the courage to kick him out. Remus watched for a moment as Sirius went to grab his black coat from the closet--watching for what felt like could be the last time--before standing up himself. His brain went fuzzy as he walked Sirius towards the door that hadn't made a single sound, despite the winter wind whistling outside.
A soundtrack for a goodbye.
He opened the door for Sirius, the two of them lingering on the threshold, standing so close to each other their puffs of hot air coming from their mouths connected into one. Sirius reached up and put his hands on the side of Remus' face tenderly, Remus' fingers circling around his wrists. More and more Remus found himself at a loss for words, thinking English did have its limit. There was not a single word that could contain all the gratitude and heartache Remus was feeling standing in the doorway holding onto Sirius' forearms.
Sirius moved first, but not out the door. Closer. His lips daring to skim Remus' with his own, bottom lips brushing. Remus could count every single eyelash on Sirius's face; see every crease under his eyes, and the exact spot his nose had been broken, a bump in the road.
"I'm not going to ask you to stay," Sirius spoke softly, his mouth moving mere millimeters from Remus' own and he couldn't decide if he wanted this man to shut up and kiss him or just shut up . "And...I'm not going to kiss you to make you stay."
"That's a bit presumptuous of you...isn't it? You'll kiss me and suddenly I'll stay? You're that good?"
Sirius moved his face even closer and Remus' breathing hitched, Adam's apple sliding down his throat, his grip tightening on tattooed forearms. His knees were going to buckle at any moment. His heart was going to come out of his throat. The only thing holding him together was this man with dark hair and light eyes who had weathered torrential storms and still stood tall; who reminded Remus what it was like to look at the world through bright eyes, instead of ones jaded by years being miserable in a marriage that wasn't quite right.
"The opposite actually."
"What?"
"I think I'll kiss you and I'll want to leave too. My lips meet yours and it's all over, right? There's no recovering from this." Sirius' lower lip was nearly between Remus' mouth. If he flinched they would connect. But they held perfectly still.
Caught between fear and lust and a future that wasn't certain.
Oh
"Would that be so bad?" Remus asked cautiously, and he watched Sirius' eyes flutter closed. "I don't know."
"Me neither."
Sirius took a breath and opened his eyes again. One of his thumbs moved across Remus' cheek gently, and Remus dared to move his own hands down Sirius' arms and down to his waist, lacing his fingers together behind Sirius' back. Time slowed down looking into Sirius' eyes by the glow of the fireplace indoors and the porchlight outdoors, standing in the threshold of Remus' home. Cold air from one side, warmth from the other.
Steel flecked with yellow and soft oranges. Remus didn't move.
Sirius didn't move.
"Only one way to find out," Sirius broke the silence with a single sentence, lips crashing into Remus', a hand under his jaw, and Remus pulled Sirius's body against his. Hands couldn't have brought him close enough, the space around them exploding in a way that confirmed both of their assumptions-- there was no going back.
There was no going back from a kiss. This kiss.
Remus tasted possibility on Sirius' tongue, joy on the roof of his mouth. He swallowed, this consuming them over again until the door was shut again and Sirius was back inside his home. Until Remus shoved him back towards the stairs, eager to keep kissing and drinking in a false reality. A world in which Remus wasn't leaving, and Sirius wasn't staying.
Soft skin.
Dark curls pulled from a top knot.
Yeah, we're totally screwed, aren't we?
Clothing left as tripping hazards down the hallway, breadcrumbs to Remus' bedroom.
Freckles and tattoos meeting for the first time.
There's no recovering from this .
Remus's mouth was bruised, his hands were shaking, touching, and looking taking on an entirely new meaning.
Now you have something to remember me by.
Tired smiles and tired kisses becoming one, Sirius's breath sounds slowing down, asleep first as Remus continued blinking.
Stay awake, this doesn't have to end if tomorrow never comes.
He hadn't changed the situation. It was just going to hurt more.
Because Sirius, like Benjy and the blonde boy he loved in high school, would one day be a bittersweet memory of the time Remus went to the Upper Peninsula, wrote a book, and discovered he was still enough.
its good for you
Chapter Summary
reason number nine to go to michigan: because it's good for you.
Chapter Notes
as always, i do not own these characters i am simply borrowing them
no notes, just love and gratitude; one more to go, babes.
*feel free to scream about this and any ending speculations on tumblr- @greyeyedmonster-18
Dorcas and I just left.
Car packed and everything...
Drive safely.
I'll miss you
Let me know when you're back in New York Or if you ever book a flight back here again I'll get you from the airport.
New York has three if you ever decide to make a trip
I'll miss you too.
How it all started... Me.
Missing you at a cafe
Always --
Remus didn't know when he became a phone person. Or...even if he was a phone person. Or maybe it was just because so much of his life revolved around being on the phone these days. Scheduling meetings over the phone when they could've been an e-mail, discussions of pages over
the phone, or opportunities over the phone. Not that he wanted to be a phone person. Because he still managed to sound like a bumbling idiot the second a speaker was up to his mouth, but he had become one, like it or not.
Benjy had been a phone person.
For years, he'd call Remus instead of texting--causing arguments because Remus wouldn't answer when he was in the middle of a shift, or wouldn't want to spend the only 10 minutes had to sit down talking to his boyfriend and wanted to write instead. For years, Remus listened to jovial conversation Benjy had with friends in their bedroom--and in retrospect, Remus was foolish to believe they were ever just friends.
In retrospect, it was naive of Remus to believe anything Benjy ever said or did at all. Blinded by the light.
Rose-colored glasses.
Determined to stitch everything up with the biggest, strongest thread he could find.
When they separated, Remus used his phone less and less, unless it was related to work or related to lawyers. Partly because he didn't want to talk to fucking anyone after everything had blown up in his face but also because Remus never wanted to be on the phone in the first place
Until Sirius.
Who also happened to be a phone person, but in a different way. And Remus found himself spending hours with his phone on speaker, complete silence from the other end as they worked in tandem. Or else listening to the whirr of a wheel, the perfect soundtrack, and compliment to the clack of keyboard keys. He found himself answering on the first ring whenever Sirius' name appeared on the phone (one he had begrudgingly put in after a month of pretending he wasn't doing anything). Suddenly, Remus loved the late-night conversations with his head on the pillow, imagining Sirius was next to him instead of just a disembodied voice through a speaker. Remus loved the mid-day check-ins on the weekends when with Benjy... he just got annoyed.
Perhaps he wasn't a phone person at all...and had just become a Sirius-person.
He pulled his phone out from the pocket of his jeans, almost as soon as he had stepped through the threshold of his apartment, taking off his jean-jacket and hanging it up on the hook. He was looking forward to the change in weather, sun thawing the snow that had fallen. Cherry blossoms on the trees, decorating the ground with pink where it had previously been a dirtied white.
. Almost 11 years ago
Remus paced back and forth along the narrow hallway of the shitty student housing apartment he shared with two other boys--a business major and an engineer--who didn't mind the mess and were good enough to blow off steam with on weekends where the pressures of college got a bit too much. Their bathroom was always messy, the cap always off the toothpaste, and more often than not their fridge consisted of pizza rolls and vodka but that shitty student apartment was something of a home. Remus had finished his Biology final, hoping he at least scraped by with a C, even if it tanked his GPA, knowing that sciences weren't his strong suit and Remus would rather chew on tinfoil than sit through another lecture about cellular respiration ever again.
But there was one good thing to come out of it.
A study group full of other juniors who had delayed their university-required sciences course.
Remus' saving grace.
In particular, Benjy Fenwick.
With his red hair and pale green eyes. His wide smile and arms reminded Remus of a damned Disney prince.
Remus had spent far too much time across a table in the library with him, staring at hands with a broad palm and short fingers. Looking at the beauty mark on his right cheek and memorizing every shade of red there was to find. Benjy's hair alone had him reaching for a dictionary, certain it had more colors in it than Webster could even define.
It made Remus want to write poetry, his hair. His voice. His eyes.
It made Remus write stream-of-conscious in the margins of his notebooks, just so he could get it out of his head in hopes that the crush, the affinity, the fondness would fade. In hopes that when Biology ended, and the study group came to a close, Remus wouldn't be compelled to stay in touch with the red-headed boy. Because Benjy was a wealthy, Communications major from Manhattan, who wore designer sneakers and had a house in the Hamptons and lived in an off-campus apartment that probably had a working garbage disposal and was free of cockroaches, and Remus was an English major working two jobs and going to school full-time from the fucking Upper Peninsula and was barely scraping by. There was no world in which they could work out together, and Remus clung to long-buried hope like a lifevest that the semester would end and Remus' crush would simply...vanish.
He shouldn't have been surprised when it didn't. Remus pretended to be shocked when he waved goodbye to the other boy upon leaving the class at his rapidly beating heart.
How dare you.
Because now he was wearing down the floors of his apartment with his shitty phone in his hand and about to do something stupid.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
At the tone, please record your message.
"Hey, hello. H-hi. Yes. Uhm. Hello. Good...evening-afternoon? It's me, Remus Lupin from Biology? I, uh, well, I--the thing is, I was just...okay, uhm, imagine--. No... I'm sorry, I'm having a stroke, bye." Remus hung up the phone quickly.
He wasn't a phone person. He had never been a phone person, and he blamed it on never having one as a teenager. He blamed it on the tiny town of Paradise having the shittiest service imaginable and the landlines the connected neighbors' houses to businesses. He never learned how to use a phone until he was 18 and had saved up enough money to get one himself. Until he
had moved to New York where a cellphone was currency and safety. So he didn't know why he was calling Benjy. When texting was...easier, sort of.
But now he was there and he couldn't go back.
He took a breath in, forgetting to breathe out as he dialed again.
Ring.
Ring.
"Hey."
"Oh, shit."
"Remus?"
"I didn't think you'd answer."
"It's my phone?"
"Yeah but I just got your voicemail and...I thought you were busy or something and I'd get it again if I tried again."
"Should...I hang up and let it go this time?" Remus paused, eyes widening as he thought about his next move, "You there?"
"Did...did you listen to that last voicemail?"
"Not yet."
"You should...delete it."
"Well now I have to listen to it," Benjy said and Remus could practically hear the straight white teeth beginning to show, splitting across his face and making dimples in his cheeks, "What's up?"
"Uhm." Remus paused, "I...called, am...calling I...okay. You know what? I don't think I did well on that final at all but...I don't really care because I think I'd sit through another semester of Biology if it meant I got another semester hanging out with you." The words were a wave crashing upon the shore, chaotic and inconsistent, but hopefully enough to make a splash, "I...was calling hoping that maybe we...because I would really like it if we could keep...uhm...hanging out, without the studying."
"I was hoping that's why you called."
Remus nearly dropped his phone in shock, "Come again?"
"Please," Benjy said, "I couldn't have been more obvious."
"No...nope, you definitely could've." and Benjy laughed on the other side of the phone, "Really?" "Stop selling yourself short," he said.
Remus let out a breathy laugh, "It's a habit, I think. Uhm...neat."
"Let me take you to dinner."
"You don't have to do that."
"I mean...if I want to date you, we might have to have dinner at some point, and I don't go home for a few more days. Are you free tonight?"
"I had big plans to cuddle with my laptop but I think I can move those around." "I'm honored." Benjy responded, "Do you like Italian?"
"Yeah."
"Then I'll pick you up and we'll go together. Seven o'clock okay?"
"Y-yeah. That's...great."
"Cool, I will see you then. Text me the address, will you?"
"I can do that."
"And.."
"What else is left?" Remus asked uncertainly.
"Oh, this is more of a request, and uh...really up to you but...can you wear the pants I like?"
Remus blushed straight down to his toes, stopping pacing in the middle of the floor and nearly tumbling to the ground. "I-I...d-don't know what you're talking about."
"I'm sure you can figure it out. See you tonight." "Yeah...yeah. You will."
"Bye, Remus."
"B...bye."
Remus heard the click of the phone on the other and his knees immediately buckled. If either one of his roommates were to come home at that time, they would've seen Remus squatting with his arms wrapped around his knees, unable to catch his breath and head reeling with what had just happened.
It had never occurred to Remus that Benjy might have been studying him as well. It had never occurred to Remus that maybe someone else would look at him like he was made of magic and poetry the way he looked at other people.
Remus took his time getting ready that night. It was embarrassing how quickly Remus could identify the pants Benjy was talking about because he had worn them with the intention of getting attention. Because even if Remus' face was scarred and his arms were too long for their own good, he could die proudly knowing his ass in pants--even when they were hanging off his frame--looked good.
So Remus put on the black denim that clung to his body, and a burgundy sweater that did the same. He sorted out his hair and put on a pair of brown boots that he usually only wore for fancier occasions.
Special occasions.
And he couldn't think of a more special occasion than the first date with a boy he had been dreaming about since September.
He had even matched his socks.
But six-forty-five rolled around and Remus hadn't even received a text that Benjy was on his way. Six-fifty and his phone was silent.
He restarted it just to make sure. He checked his account to double-check that he still had minutes left and data left and that they hadn't spontaneously disconnected his phone because he had rambled too much to a cute boy earlier that day.
Six-fifty nine and there was still nothing, Remus' heart sinking into the floorboards.
"Hey, I thought you were leaving?" asked one of his roommates, Derek Cresswell, from the couch where he was leaning back, socked feet up on the back, his head on the arm.
"I...thought I was too." Remus said looking at his phone as if he could wish a text into existence. "Did he stand you up? That's fucking shit, man."
"Fucking shit is right." Remus agreed, putting his phone on vibrate, and setting it on their shitty wooden kitchen table. So if it did ring, it would make a noise. So he could hear it and wouldn't have to obsess over it.
Even though he was already spiraling--who was he to think this was true? To think Benjy had been looking back the entire time.
"Wanna do a shot instead? I took my last final today."
"A shot sounds fucking perfect." Derek grinned, jumping off the couch to go to the freezer where the vodka was kept, and Remus resisted the urge to pick up his phone and ask Benjy "where the hell he was".
But he didn't.
Because that wasn't how the world worked.
Remus had taken two shots with Derek by the time he heard the phone buzz.
"Shit that better be him! Come on, give me the phone," Derek held out his hand gesturing, "The first word in that text should be Sorry, and if it's not, fuck him."
"That's...really easy for you to say," Remus said off-handedly, glancing down Derek's form that was built out; his blonde curls and blue eyes made him the want of several women on campus. Derek didn't have a leg to stand on when it came to managing rejection because he had the confidence there would be someone else.
Remus picked up his phone--7:30 to see a text.
I should've told you earlier I'm never on time.
It's not intentional, it just happens, but I'll always show up.
With flowers. You ready?
Remus smiled softly.
Maybe it was the curiosity of what kind of flowers Benjy had bought for him.
Maybe it was the honesty of a character flaw on day one.
Maybe it was the fact that Remus, despite being two shots in, and slightly put out, still really wanted to go on the date with the beautiful boy from Biology.
"I'll...see you later, Derek," Remus said, pocketing his phone and walking out the door, not waiting for a response from his roommate that would've talked him out of it.
It had been a few days since they had spoken at all, Remus only dropping a text to Sirius when he was officially back in New York and feeling like he was having to start his life over again. He had moved out of his old apartment--the one that he had gotten as a heartbreak hotel in a pinch, giving it over to the sweet subletter who took care of houseplants and always remembered to take the trash out-- and into somewhere new. Somewhere that was his own in Queens that had the perfect view of the waterfront and Manhattan in the distance. He was attending meetings again and trying to be better about watching the sunset from his window. He was trying to spend his evenings reading and trying to spend his days exploring new places. He was trying to drink more flavored lattes with extra espresso, instead of just getting his black cup of coffee. Because...as terrifying as change was, it was also illuminating. And like it or not, for better or for worse, Remus had changed.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
Hi, you have reached Sirius Black. I am not able to answer your call right now but leave a message and either myself or a representative will get back to you.
Beep.
"Hey, hi," Remus started, wiping his sweaty hands onto his chinos as he paced around his apartment, "It's...me. Which you probably know from the caller ID...or maybe you didn't because you've already deleted my number and have forgotten all about me in a week or so because...that's what people tend to do.
But, uh, I'm calling. I'm in New York, and uh you..knew that. I drove for three days with Dorcas and then...spent a few more getting my shit together after having it kind of...all over the fucking place for a long time. I moved, again. You know up until this past year, I barely moved at all and I've...I feel like I've lived everywhere at this point, just searching for somewhere to feel like home. It's...it's been good, here. I'm excited...for the book, everyone's excited, it'll take some time and...it's good. I think that--you know what? Who am I kidding? I couldn't stop thinking about you. I can't stop thinking about you.
I only thought of you on that drive, and when I moved into my new apartment, I thought about how great a piece of your work would look as a centerpiece and...why wouldn't I? Think of you? We kissed and I know we...we didn't really talk about anything and we both assumed it was just kind of done, whatever we had but...I'm nothing if not stubborn and...so I'm calling. To talk.
Fifty percent of marriages end in divorce, and mine happened to be one of them. And after dealing with the aftermath, I'm inclined to believe the twenty-five of the fifty percent that don't are because of paperwork and...money, and...sometimes it's easier just to be miserable with someone than try to be alone because that's really fucking hard.
Anyway, mine was one of them. It was awful and I really thought that it would make me...just stop. Become a crotchety old man, heartless and cold. Cynical. I was so sure I was never going to fall again, meet anyone again, and it would just be me and my books and a nice apartment with a view, and...that was going to be it. And I was okay with that too. Really. But it didn't. I know you say I'm prickly, and I...am. And an asshole. Especially after everything... it really felt like it was my fault. That I fell for it and maybe my solution was to just be so...rude that no one would ever want to get close to me again.
Didn't really work. And at the end of the day? I still believe in love. If it's for suckers, I absolutely am one. A prickly sucker.
Fuck , that's...that came out wrong.
I-I'm...I could've taken any flight when I left New York, and I took the one to my hometown. And when I did that, initially, I thought it was going to give me time to reconnect after spending a year feeling so...lost and wondering what the fuck I did wrong. I was going to do that stupid soul- searching shit.
Because it's not great being cheated on. And it... I'm rambling, I'm sorry. Are you even still listening? Probably. You're good at that.
As stupid as it sounds, part of me really believes I took that flight because I was supposed to end up meeting you.
And no, before you laugh, I don't...believe in the meant to be shit. Or the...stuff you see in movies and books? The will they, won't they and then they finally do and they're together forever? Yeah, that's not real and even if it was real, I couldn't do that. Because things...take work and things are hard and you know, I always wanted to know what happens at the end of the movies once it fades to black and the credits roll. They don't show you the couple arguing over a day planner or the dishes that get left in the sink or the birthdays that are celebrated half asleep on the couch and not...flying a helicopter over the ocean or whatever.
But, the point is , what I'm...what I've been trying to say is I do believe in love. And I...do believe that if two people really want to be together and think they should be together...one of them will say something.
Sirius, you...were the biggest and best surprise I could've asked for.
You make me...you remind me of who I was before the world chewed me up and spit me out.
You're...the kind person my mother would have loved if I brought home.
And I'm not ready to let that go.
You make me brave. You make me feel like...if I fell a thousand feet, that I'd still be able to live
and I'd just have a great story tell instead of broken bones to heal. What's...that' like? To be able to give the gift of invincibility to other people?
Anyway.
I...I'm being brave. And I'm saying something.
Please call me when you get this. If you get this...or don't and that's an answer for me too. And...it's okay if you don't want anything, I'm strong I can take it. I promise whatever you say won't be worse than catching my husband in the act.
That...that was a joke. An attempt at one. I just mean, I won't be upset if you...don't want anything because...it was so nice while it lasted and, I'm better for having met you. And Marlene but don't you dare tell her that. I'll never hear the end of it.
but...I have to try.
Call me when you get this."
because sometimes...
Chapter Summary
reason number ten to go to michigan:
Chapter Notes
as always, i do not own these characters, i am simply borrowing them
i have no words for all of you to describe how grateful i am that so many of you loved (and seemingly resonated) with this impulse fic. just love, just light. *we're not mountains...so we will meet again. but until then, xoxo.
See the end of the chapter for more notes Sirius was late.
Sirius hadn't meant to be late, and Sirius actually hated being late, especially when things were important. It was one of the reasons he got so upset when Harry was late to school in the mornings, especially when Sirius had gone through such efforts to get him out the door and in the car and dropped off with just enough time for him to go to first period. He blamed his parents for his unyielding punctuality, and the years he spent getting lectured even if he was a minute behind.
But he was late nonetheless and found himself in his car, flying down the street at a speed that should've definitely gotten him pulled over, and would've made him later. But Sirius was able to fight a ticket if he had to and he would pay anything twice over if it meant he wouldn't be more than fifteen minutes late. But in all fairness, he hadn't left himself enough time. In all fairness, he had been running late all day and this was just another reason why. He valeted his car, tossing his keys at some twenty-something that Sirius didn't even have time to give explicit instructions to about scratch it and I'll scratch you before taking a moment to compose himself, not wanting to attract attention and stepped inside the building. It was older and unfamiliar to Sirius with brick pillars and flooring that had some permanent stains no matter how frequently and thoroughly they were waxed and polished. He could hear voices coming from where he was supposed to be, slipping quietly into the back to go unnoticed, leaning against the wall casually.
He looked like he was there the whole time.
He looked like he wasn't late.
He looked like he was just listening and waiting, just as everyone else was in the room.
He waited against the wall until the crowds of people started to leave, trickling out and brushes shoulders with Sirius as he stood against the wall, looking over the tops of their heads nonchalantly, his hands in the pockets of his trousers, searching for the only face he would recognize in the room.
Just walk in whenever you're here. I'll find you.
Eventually, there were only a few remaining people in the room, and Sirius was able to push off the wall, finally taking steps towards the front of the room.
"I loved your book," Sirius said, once he was at the table in the front, smiling down at the man with freckles and sandy hair, a pen in his long fingers, "Especially the title. Changing Tides , where did you get the inspiration?"
Remus looked up at him, pausing in the signing, his lips caught between a smirk and a smile, "Some fuck I met in the Upper Peninsula. Who am I making this out to?"
"Sirius Black, love of my life, artist extraordinaire who is very sorry he is late and missed the first fifteen minutes of the reading."
"That's too long of a message." "Write small."
"Illegible."
"Surprise me then," Sirius grinned, bending down so he could kiss Remus on the mouth. The pen dropped on the table, Remus' hand reaching up to the back of his head to deepen the kiss, I'm proud of you being murmured between tongues and lips that were made to be on top of one another. "The last fifteen minutes were sensational."
"You've heard them at least 13 times by now," Remus said against his mouth, kissing him quickly once more.
"Doesn't make them any less brilliant."
"And you really didn't have to come to this one," Remus stood up, handing the book back to Sirius, the room now empty except for Dorcas who was speaking with the manager of the bookstore about upcoming events, "Today's busy, I didn't expect you to make it at all."
"I told you, there was plenty of time for me to pick Harry up from school, drop him with Regulus, change, talk to Hestia about the show tonight, drive all the way here and listen to your reading before going to the gallery together." Plenty of time if you went 15 over the speed limit the second your kid was out of the car.
"Did you bake a dozen cookies though? If not, I'm not nearly as impressed." "This morning, and brownies."
"You're joking."
"I am," Sirius grinned and Remus nudged him, arms wrapping around Sirius in an embrace that came after being apart for most of the day and not waking up next to one another that morning. "I'm late and I'm sorry."
"Just happy to see you."
Seven and a half months ago.
Sirius had his earbuds in as he worked on a decorative set of plates that were commissioned from a woman out in Detroit. She had passed through the Upper Peninsula for a vacation and had fallen in love with Sirius' designs, willing to pay for an entire set despite Sirius' prices (at the encouragement of his brother) increasing to better match the workload. But Sirius didn't have earbuds in because he wanted to focus on his work and drown out the noises coming from his brother working not too far from him on his laptop, occasionally answered a phone call and making stupid sales jokes that Sirius made fun of him for. His earbuds weren't playing music at all- -it was a voicemail. A long-winded, earth-shattering, all-consuming voicemail left to him by a man who was...also all three of those things.
He had listened to it for three days straight. First, because he couldn't believe it was sent at all. Remus was short and measured. Remus wasn't the one who impulsively did things. The highs that he chased were methodical and calculated, unlike Sirius who chased fleeting highs; the ones he knew would be quick fixes, the fun in the race and the chase and the contrast. Remus wasn't the one who did things like this. But he had, and Sirius kept listening to it, analyzing every word like it was a piece of classic literature. He underlined words and phrases, creating a spreadsheet of reoccurring themes, confessions highlighted in bright pink, so he would know what to come back to later. And this time he was listening to it trying to formulate a response.
I can't stop thinking about you either, but I have a kid, and I have a million therapists and books telling me he needs consistency.
I can't stop thinking about you either but I'm terrified I'll move to a city again and slip. I can't stop thinking about you either and I'm not sure I want to stop.
There's an empty drawer in my mind, in my heart just for you. For your sweaters and your dry sense of humor; for the gap between your teeth, and I'll make compartments for every single one of your freckles. My toothbrush holder has an empty space, and I can't help but think yours should be there--mines dark blue, what's yours?
Sirius felt the table move suddenly, and he looked up to see Regulus hitting the spot next to him, banging the table to get Sirius' attention.
He took an earbud out, "What?"
"I've been calling your name for an hour."
"An hour!" Sirius gasped, "I am so sorry, your highness." "Time?"
Sirius looked at the clock on his phone, realizing he had lost the time, his brother waiting on him to put down what they were doing so they could start their meeting. He put down his paintbrush and removed the second earbud, "Sorry."
"What's with you?"
"Nothing, show me what you've come up with," Sirius said leaning onto the table as Regulus turned his computer screen in his direction. As promised, Regulus had come up with a neat five- year operational plan for Sirius and his work. He had included finance projections that made Sirius roll his eyes, but the rest of it, had Sirius's stomach turning. Each word he read was another nail in the coffin, another step in a direction that Sirius was reluctant to make no matter how much
sense it made. The road best traveled couldn't have been the best for everyone...right? Sirius rested his chin on the thumbs of his hands, fingers covering his mouth as he continued to read and continued to ignore his brother's smug grin the longer the silence went on.
"I told you so."
"What are we, five?"
"You know I'm right."
"I..." Sirius looked back at his brother, "This has some...merit."
"Oh, how hard was that for you to say? Did it hurt?"
"Little bit."
Regulus grinned, "So?"
"So, what, Reg? I can't just pack up and move and...even if this...there are just other factors in this."
"Sirius, you are going to burn out if you stay as-is. It is a smarter economic move to relocate to the city where there is established business and an art scene. You'll save on shipping and insurance costs, not to mention there's a wider network, more opportunities for galleries and shows and sales, collaborations with other artists. And, even right now, you can afford to hire an assistant who can package your work, think about inventory, and ordering supplies, which is an entirely different topic, but point is, you can't hire anyone now because you're the only person out here who does what you do."
"This was supposed to be a hobby."
"And now it's not. So we can go back to making it just a hobby. I can contact all the galleries if you'd like and inform them you're no longer interested, dial back on orders from your website, and--" Regulus paused, "And I can tell by your face you don't want to do that. What you're doing isn't sustainable. I'm open to feedback about the plan--we can extend it to seven years but--"
"I get it, okay?"
Regulus stared at Sirius for a moment, before closing his computer entirely, and slumping down in his chair, leaning against the table in a posture that was atypical for his little brother while working, "I am not your business manager right now, I'm your little brother. What is up your ass about this?"
"You look ridiculous."
"What? I'm being relaxed, super cool," Regulus smiled, "Come on, I don't have all day." "Did you make a spreadsheet for Harry?"
"No, but I can. So can you, by that."
Sirius reached up to take the band out of his hair, fingers running through curls and catching snags along the way, "Lily and James didn't want their kid growing up in a city. They...wanted him to have a yard and a picket fence and...dreams."
"He's thirteen, he has exactly zero aspirations right now other than how to to get more time on his
video games and less time doing chores. He can have those just fine in a city." "I just mean--"
"I know what you mean Sirius, and I have seen you turn your life upsidedown for this kid and try to make decisions that you think James and Lily would've made," Regulus told him, "And I'm not...saying that it was the wrong choice because it wasn't and it's not, but you can't tell me you haven't lost a little bit of you being here and doing that."
"He's happy. I'm happy it's...simple." "You hate simple."
"But it works for me. It works for us." "Worked.
"I can...cut back."
Regulus let out a breath so heavy it vibrated his lips together, eyes rolling back so far and hard that Sirius was concerned for a brief moment they would stay that way, "You're being stubborn."
"I'm being..." Scared.
A coward.
"Give me ten reasons you need to stay here." Regulus sat up again, reverting back to business manager posture, "I'll let you write them down even. But you also need to give me ten reasons to leave. I'll do the same."
"One of those lists is going to be way longer. I already know."
"Then why are we still having this conversation?" he asked, "When you moved here three years ago Sirius...everything was a mess and you both were grieving. Coming here was the best decision you could've made so you had the time to...miss them, and figure things out," Regulus said slowly, "I know you still miss them, I still miss them, but Harry isn't that deeply sad and scared little boy anymore, and you're not scrambling and trying to keep it together. In fact, most days I'm pretty impressed with you, though I will deny that vehemently if you tell anyone I said that." Sirius laughed softly, "I think you both have outgrown this place. It was smart and brave to come here... and it's just as smart to know when it's time to go."
"They didn't want him--"
"They're not here. I wish they were, but they're not. They're not the ones spending time with Harry every day, no matter how badly you can wish they were. You are. You're here. You're making decisions. So...what do you want to do?"
Sirius looked at his phone, the voicemail from Remus resounding in his head. Memorized every line. Sirius tapped the screen, unlocking it quickly with 1031 as the passcode before taking an earbud in his fingers, "Are you still my little brother?"
Regulus slumped down comically once more, spreading his legs wider on the stool and Sirius snorted.
"Here, cool boy." Sirius passed him the earbud, Regulus's eyebrows knitting together in confusion as he put it in his ear and Sirius pressed play. Sirius watched in slow motion as his brother listened to the words, stopping himself from mouthing along with it. He watched as Regulus smiled slowly, a knowing smile that made Sirius fight down a flush because it was all too apparent why Remus had a best-selling book. Now quite possibly two.
Regulus removed the earbud, "You want this snarky novelist?" "Yeah. I do."
"Typical," Regulus laughed, "This is such a you move..." "What?"
"Yeah, this is the kind of shit you do. With the voicemail? That's exactly what you did to meet him with the sitting at the table and the inviting him to your art show...he took a page out of your book for this." Regulus rested his chin in his hand once more, "So what? What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking that if we move to a city, Harry's not going to public school and Lily is going to haunt me if her kid becomes a snob..."
"Okay, so we'll keep Harry humble, easy enough, I'll just tell him he smells once a day or something."
Sirius laughed, "I was thinking more along the lines of an allowance situation but yeah, ego- bruising works too."
"What else?"
"Would...that plan of yours work in New York?"
A conversation with Regulus continued for the rest of the afternoon, looking at the plan his brother created without the usual knots in his stomach until something was settled on that felt feasible. That felt right. There was a conversation with Harry about moving, met with a resounding "Yes" and "Can my new school have sports? I don't even care which one." and "When?", Sirius having to stop his teenager from packing a suitcase that afternoon.
Outgrown was an understatement.
It was a few days after receiving the voicemail before Sirius made any move to call back. Ring.
Rin--
"Sirius?"
"It's me."
"Hi."
"Hey," Sirius couldn't help but smile into the mouthpiece of the phone, alone in his bed that night, imagining Remus's face next to him instead of miles away, "Are you busy?"
"Just...no. I'm not."
"What are you doing?" Sirius asked.
Are you reading in an armchair? Have you eaten dinner yet? How many times did you think about calling me today because I got up to 100 before I finally did.
"I'm out on my balcony. It's small, but it has the best view. I got...two chairs, to sit on. You know...what chairs are for and I'm trying to keep my habit of watching sunsets."
"Is it as good as the ones on the lake?"
"No...but here you get the reflection of the city lights in the water... its own kind of magic I think." "I...got your text."
"My...text?" Remus asked, his voice going up at least an octave, and Sirius fought down a laugh. "Yeah, your text, after you left."
"My text?!"
"You sent me one about New York airports, and I'm actually making a trip there, pretty soon, I think. I was just wondering if you had recommendations. I know JFK has more flights available, but LaGuardia is closer--you're in Queens, right?"
"My TEXT?"
"Yes, what am I not being clear about?" Sirius teased, and he could practically see Remus explode in front of him. He could see his favorite crease in Remus' forehead and the way long arms were thrown into the air when he had finally had enough.
"Oh no, you're perfectly clear about my fucking texts, but I'm wondering if you just bypassed the voicemail I left you entirely or if you're being a shit on purpose."
"What do you think?"
"I take back everything I said. Fuck you, you fuck."
"A palindrome, impressive, my novelist."
Remus cleared his throat, stalling at the "my" that Sirius had the courage to say, "So...you got it." "Yeah, and I'm...going to be making a trip to New York."
"How come?"
"Well, it seems that...my business manager and I...I made a list."
"What kind of list?"
"Ten reasons to go to New York...you want to hear it?" Remus let out a breathy sort of giggle on the other end, one that lasted several moments. The kind of laugh that Sirius wanted to bottle up and save for later. "Nevermind."
"What? No, no, I want to hear."
"No need, that laugh is now the only reason on the list."
"Okay, well, that was...is my massive dick also on that list? I feel like it should be just for the torture, you absolute fucker." and Sirius laughed loudly, despite the time, knowing Harry was probably trying to do his homework and definitely could hear Sirius through closed doors. But he didn't care. "What's reason one?"
--
Remus stood in the middle of the art gallery, a glass of red wine in hand as he surveyed the room, surprisingly grateful for a moment of peace in the flurry that had been getting to that day. It was a different experience entirely, having a partner who was equal parts supportive and hardworking, and Remus was adjusting to the pace of life with Sirius at his side. What it meant to have someone who came to every book signing in a 50-mile radius, and cheered the loudest in the back even if it was inappropriate for the setting; what it meant to have someone who picked Remus up from the airport when he traveled (though it had only been once since publishing), despite insistence that taking the subway was just fine; what it meant when your partner was able to make a life of their own and invited Remus everywhere he went. Friday nights filled with gallery openings and exclusive invitations; Thursday's at lacrosse games, watching as Sirius's fourteen-year-old took the private school sports world by storm; weekends spent trying new coffee shops and Sundays spent recuperating or strategizing for the incoming week. Sometimes both, with plenty of kisses and legs wrapped around torso's and teenage boys rolling their eyes as he was forced to do homework in the midst of romance .
A busier version of his life. A fuller version of his life.
Another circle around the sun and Remus wasn't any closer to having wax wings melted than when his feet were firmly planted on the ground.
A book signing on a Friday that finished just in time for them to race across to art district where Sirius was having his first opening since arriving. It wasn't a solo exhibition, Sirius's name mixed with other artists at Jones and Podmore, but it might as well have been the way Sirius's ceramics continued to steal everyone's hearts no matter where they were. It didn't surprise Remus in the slightest that there was a crowd of people planted near Sirius's pedestals, immersed in conversation, and that Sirius had been pulled away more times than Remus could count. Remus didn't mind though, the usual anxiety nowhere to be found, even as he was left alone. Again.
Because Sirius always came back.
His hand found Remus's in every crowd.
Remus looked around the room, spotting Marlene by the bar with Dorcas, the blonde flown in by Sirius for the occasion (though wasn't staying with him, and had no plans to). Marlene's outfit blended in just fine alongside New York's finest, though her laughter wasn't camouflaged in the slightest. Harry was there in theory too, insisting that fourteen-going-on-fifteen was old enough to attend the opening, a girl with shiny black hair attached to his hand as they walked around the gallery earlier that evening. Remus had never met his parents, but he could see Sirius in every step the teenager made; the confidence in his stride, the way he would lean down to whisper something in her ear to make her laugh or blush or something in between. Harry was nowhere to be seen currently, having asked for the keys to Sirius's studio about thirty minutes ago, the new
workspace situated the next building over.
"Please, I won't touch anything, I swear. I'll even text you when I'm there, it's right down the street," Harry asked, the girl he had brought currently wading through conversation with Regulus, while Harry begged for privacy from his godfather.
"Now, what makes you think I'm going to let my fourteen-year-old and his girlfriend--"
"We're just talking , Sirius, she's not my girlfriend."
"His not girlfriend alone in my studio? In the dark?"
"We'll...turn a light on?" offered Harry and Sirius laughed, going into his pocket to pull out his ring of keys, taking one off for Harry.
"You break it, you clean it up," Sirius told him, "And if you're going to kiss her, you better make sure that she's comfortable with it."
Harry grinned widely taking the keys, "Of course. You're the best"
"I'll text you when I'm heading out. Curfew is still curfew. Got it, babe?"
"Okay, babe. Love you, babe. " But Harry's head was already someplace far away from the art gallery, focusing only on the girl talking with his Uncle, who immediately giggled when Harry rushed up behind her, taking her hand gently.
And then there was Sirius, tall and handsome across the room in trousers that Remus knew exactly where he wanted them to end up that evening, chatting easily, his brother at his side to people who looked important. Never breaking a sweat, though Remus had come to learn that Sirius did in fact sweat and had been pulled into the tornado of behind-the-scenes work when Sirius would get so focused he forgot to eat or would call Remus late at night.
But Remus didn't mind. Since leaving the voicemail to Sirius, he had felt impenetrable; a fortress; bulletproof. A sort of confidence that came when someone believed in you...and when Remus remembered what it was like to believe in himself and see the world as a place of opportunity, and not a place of hopelessness and destruction. Remus didn't mind the late phone calls, or the times Remus had been in the room when Sirius had to call his sponsor, because Sirius gave back tenfold.
Because it was equal. An exchange.
It wasn't simple. It wasn't easy. But the credits rolled and through the uncertainties, there was still joy to be found.
Hope to be found.
Enough love to go around.
Remus took a sip of his wine, turning his attention away from Sirius where his boyfriend had just given him a wink, grey eyes still making him blush, and back to the painting when a voice caught his attention.
"Re?"
Fucking fantastic.
Remus turned to regard the red-head. Over a year had passed since he had even seen Benjy. Hair
was shorter, he had a small bit of stubble now, but everything else was the exact same as Remus remembered him.
"Hi, Benjy."
"What are you doing here?"
"Looking at art?"
"I mean, this isn't exactly your scene," he said, with a smirk on his face, his own glass of wine in his hand, and Remus made a small hum of acknowledgment, "You never liked big parties."
"It's an art opening, not a party." "You know what I mean."
"Guess I've changed then," Remus said, "And to your question, I would argue that this isn't your scene. Did we become an art connoisseur?"
"I guess we've both changed," Benjy said laughing, "Really the guy I'm seeing was invited. He even knows some of the artists here."
"Does he? Interesting."
Douchebag.
"I saw you published again. Any chance of you signing my copy?"
"Surprised you bought one," Remus raised an eyebrow cooly and took a sip, "Or does that also belong to the man you're seeing?"
"Guilty."
Remus sighed, "I would say 'not to be rude', you know how people say that when they're about to be rude but want to seem like they're not? But I really don't care. I've no interest in speaking with you Benjy, we can skip all the...everything. You look well but, go ahead and enjoy the rest of your night. Not...talking to me."
"Still hate me that much?"
"I don't hate you. I nothing you." Remus laughed softly, "I haven't given a thought to you in...god knows how long. I can't care about you or what you're doing or...anything."
And it was true.
Benjy hadn't even come back into his mind in the dark of the nights. The anti-Hallmark film of a failed marriage that used to play over and over again in his mind had expired, gone fuzzy, no longer useable. Remus stopped beating himself up for the mistakes he had made that kept him from sleeping, moving into something that looked a little less like grief and a little more like forgiveness. Not for Benjy, but for himself.
"That's...special." Benjy countered, looking a little hurt by Remus's words, suddenly looking around the room, searching for a hand to hold to bolster his ego. "I just thought it would be nice to catch up."
"Why?"
"At one point we cared a lot about each other and... oh , my- -" Benjy trailed off as Remus felt arms wrap around his waist from behind, Remus smiling instantly at the warmth of Sirius. He had adjusted quickly to wearing Sirius's body like a cape in most public places and in exchange, Remus knew he always had a spot in the room next to Sirius.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," Sirius said, kissing Remus on the side of his head and Remus felt the pettiest victory swell inside his chest as Benjy realized Sirius was his. Tall, dark, and handsome; Mr. Cheekbones and Eyelashes; Charming and the brightest star in the sky was his .
Ha .
"It's alright," Remus responded, "I didn't miss you terribly." "You're...seeing someone," Benjy commented, "I didn't know." "Why would you?"
"I'm sorry, who are you?" asked Sirius and Remus took a sip of his wine to hide the smirk. He was tempted to look around the room to catch Marlene's gaze, hoping the blonde would make good on her promise to shove her fist down his ex-husband's throat but decided Sirius could probably handle it.
"Uh, Benjy Fenwick." Benjy extended his hand to Sirius, who reluctantly met it, keeping one arm around Remus's waist.
"My ex-husband."
Sirius laughed shortly. One loud, single-syllable laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation before looking down at Benjy and scanning him. "Sirius Black. Current boyfriend." The size difference was laughable as Sirius spoke without his usual warm inflection, turning to Remus, "Is he good to be here? Or should I ask him to leave?"
Remus was tempted to have Sirius kick him out. Remus was also tempted to ask Sirius to fuck him into the floor in front of Benjy, and Remus was tempted to scream so loudly during, it would shatter glass.
I win .
"No, he's fine. We were just wrapping up our conversation, actually."
"I think that'd be best," Sirius said, and Benjy's expression shifted, looking around the room again for the boy he had come with, leaving Remus to believe he hadn't come with anyone at all. Or else, the boy was just as content to leave Benjy the way Benjy left others.
"Uh..yeah. I'll...just go." Benjy responded, barely giving Remus a second look as he walked away into the crowd. Remus didn't know how he would feel when he finally saw Benjy again, but he wouldn't have imagined this. It was strange, to encounter an ex. Like a foreign film when what is said face to face has nothing to do with the subtitles below. How Remus could dismiss Benjy like he was a spam phone call or a stranger on the street so easily, even though once upon a time he had slept plastered next to him in the same bed. He expected anger. Maybe leftover bitterness. But there was nothing, really truly nothing left for the man who Remus thought did irreparable damage.
Turns out, time fixed most things. Chocolate fixed the others. And Sirius could take on the rest, Remus in bed next to a man who pulled him closer even in the summer heat. Even when his kid
was awake and down the hall. Even when Remus was awake and going through critic reviews on his phone, driving himself down a tornado of self-doubt. Sirius pulled him closer.
"Well looks like I can't leave you again," Sirius told him, Remus turning in his direction, "He's short."
Remus gave Sirius a close-lipped smile, "Hindsight is 2020...I suppose he didn't seem that way when I met him."
Remus left out the part where he didn't think he stood at six foot three until recently. He left out the part that he spent the better part of last year regrowing inches that had been shaved off.
Sirius leaned forward to kiss Remus on the mouth quickly. Not long enough to attract attention but just long enough to let Remus know, you're mine and nothing else matters; I'm so happy I met you; I love you a long time. "Tired?"
"I'm...fine."
Sirius just shook his head at the feeble excuse, knowing better than to believe him, "We can go, it's been a long day and Regulus is going to run interference for me. I used the excuse I have a kid , and will continue doing so even when the kid is twenty and does not have a girlfriend with a curfew, who I have to drive home."
"I'm pretty sure they're making out in your studio right now." "I texted him, he'll be back."
"And what's the protocol for that? Do we pretend that we don't know? Do we ask him how much tongue he used?" Remus asked and Sirius started laughing.
"Yes but we wait until Cho is out of the car." Sirius said, "If he's anything like his Dad though, she'll leave and he won't be able to shut up for the next hour. We'll have to do very little."
"That makes it easier."
"So, home then?" Sirius asked, tilting his head slightly, a single black curl falling in front of his eyes. Remus reached up to brush it out of his face.
They didn't live together. Not just yet. Remus finding that his heart was spread in three different places, and realizing that didn't make him any less whole.
There was the home in the Upper Peninsula, with a not-so creaky door and bird paraphernalia decorating the walls. The place he could always come back to no matter where he was headed, that acted like the oxygen in the air and the concrete under his feet. The foundation he was built on. The walls that held him up and was the reason his heart still remained intact. Though perhaps more cautious than it was before 18. Before 25. Before 30. The place he had plans to return to when December came; plans for a Christmas tree and spiked cider on Marlene's porch, Sirius and Harry meeting him as soon as school was out.
There was Sirius' condo in SoHo that looked at the Hudson River. A place with three bedrooms and the same furniture from his home in Michigan. Pictures adorning the hallways, dishes always put away, and three copies of Remus's book proudly on display. Remus loved the morning dance of watching Sirius get Harry out the door on time, enough time having passed that he could stay over on school nights. Remus loved the Friday night tradition of takeout that was kept in place, this time with better pizza. Remus had a key. How lovely it felt to be so wanted that no one--not Harry
or Regulus--questioned if Remus was there without Sirius. How gratifying it felt to be part of something outside of himself.
And then there was Remus's home. The one in Queens with the view of the city. The one he had settled into, investing in his own bird sculpture and decorating the walls with Sirius's artwork. Lumpy thrifted couches, even though he could afford to buy new ones, and an entire coffee cart set up that Remus was particularly proud of.
A place he could breathe. A place that someone could walk into and feel like it belonged to him, instead of thinking he was a visitor carrying a suitcase. A place to spread out.
A place where over his bed, he only had one thing framed and hung up. His only request when Sirius left Michigan for the first time to look at schools. When Remus had kissed him so soundly in the car, he was worried they weren't going to make it out of the airport parking lot.
I want the list
A list of ten reasons (to go to New York).
"Yeah," Remus nodded, looking into grey eyes. "Home." And ten would always be his favorite.
Because sometimes... you have to leave to find your way back home.
