3Three

Remus spat out blood and dodged the screeching woman barreling towards him, catching her soundly in the stomach as she passed him and stealing her single remaining flag as she fell to the ground. He shoved it into his jacket just as a pair of men came into view, both clutching weights that would add a nasty heft to their punches. Not the first to break the rules, but ah, who believed in honor and nobility amongst such performances nowadays anyway?

He avoided one, but took a clip to the jaw from the other that sent him stumbling into someone behind him. That got him a rough kick to the spleen and a flag lost— but sent him crashing into the first pair and knocking them to the ground. Remus punched them both, kneed one in the groin, stole two flags apiece from both, and got out of there while still trying to sort out which way was up.

How much longer was this nightmare meant to last?

Sure, he had a slight advantage, heightened senses and all that rot, but so did half of the other contestants. Their abilities sometimes surprising the animalistic survivalist nature. Sure, werewolves had killer instincts, but that was hardly an advantage if his competitor was half siren and could mesmerize any of its assailants within a five block radium.

Remus was down to two flags out of five, which meant he was probably going to be out of the fight soon, though helpfully he'd leave with enough flags to qualify him for the second round: the duels.

Though what he was going to duelwithwas a mystery. Common folk didn't learn martial skills the way nobility did. They had six months rudimentary training and then were allowed to go back to their lives. High City folk had to learn far more— and spent a good deal of money doing it.

Remus knew the sharp end of a blade and where to stick it, but only from required lessons taken back when he was fourteen. His skill with a knife were more suited to household chores than harming anyone. If his fists weren't enough to get him through the first two rounds, then he was out of luck.

He dodged around a fellow roughly the size of a ship and with all the grace of a sinking ship. He'd just gotten into it with a woman who seemed to have soldierly training when the horns blew, making him groan with relief. Remus bolted away from the woman as quickly as he could manage, every single bone and muscle in his body hurting, and returned to the edge of the grounds— all the while shuffling through a field littered with unconscious people, bits of torn clothes, and splashes of blood. One of the criers ordered them to form lines in front of the tables and be ready to have their flags counted.

When he reached the table, he dumped his collection of flags on it, then handed over the single one his own he had remaining.

"Four lost, twenty-three gained," the clerk said. "Go stand beneath the blue tent."

Giving the flippant version of a solider's salute, back of his hand facing out, fingers touched to his brow before flicking them sharply out, he spun away and stamped over to the blue tent. Where he promptly dropped to the ground and lowered his head to keep from throwing up. Maybe drinking five or six ales before getting into a massive brawl hadn't been the wisest choice.

Dread bubbled within him at the realization that he had committed to working for Andy that night. How was he meant to seduce anyone with the state of him?

But that was a problem to deal with in a few more hours. Hopefully he would be free of the damned tournament soon and could get some rest before facing the long night ahead.

Without dwelling to much on that thought, he focused on keeping his mind from swimming until he heard the summoning. He slowly lifted himself from he ground and joined the crowd milling toward a backing crier.

"If your name is called, go to the table to receive your token for the duel. If your name is not called you have been eliminated. Duelists are to report here tomorrow by after prayer bell. Anyone who does not show up on time forfeits their place in the tournament."

Remus sighed as the crier began listing off names, not sure if he wanted to hear his or not, no matter how much heneededto hear it. He gritted his teeth as his bruises and scrapes and two days of over-exertion drew increasingly difficult to ignore. He might have to surrender to it and pop over to Snape's for a powder or two to get him through the night. Hopefully, Andy would let it slide. She knew how much he hated relying on such things. A good ale and the odd wig of gin was the most adventurous he cared to get.

"Romtayen Remus Romulus Lupin!" the crier bellowed.

Relief and disappointment rushed through him, along with the usual resignation as people snigger at his name. Remus limped over to the tables to receive his token. He tucked it away in his coin purse. "So what do the duels entail, are we allowed to ask?"

"Fight to first blood, no weapons allowed," the clerk replied, smiling and brushing back a lock of bright blonde hair that slipped free of the knot at the back of her head. "Can you read? We have a rule she you can look over, though I'm happy to tell you them."

"I can read." He replied, and then at seeing her disappointment at his quick temper, he forced a polite grin. "Thanks anyway."

She gave him a shy nod as he turned away, limping off to into the direction of the city.

He had to stop several time to catch his breath and let the pain ebb. When he stumbled on the road. Not even halfway back to the city, he could have cried.

A hand fell on his shoulder, and before he could look up, someone had hauled him to his feet. Whatever he expected, it wasn't Silver-brilliant eyes filled with concern and tenderness so fucking genuine that it felt tangible enough to reach out and grasp if he dared to. "All right there, Remus?"

"Been better," Remus admitted, not missing the break in his confession. "Don't think I'm up to that pint with you after all, High City, much as I was looking forward to it."

Ori rolled his eyes. "The ale can wait. Let's get you home."

"I can sort myself, thanks." Remus tried to shove at the helping hand on his lower back and elbow. "I don't need some High City—"

"Stuff it," Ori replied easily, "You know, we have a term for people like you in High City."

"You have several terms, and I've heard them all." Remus muttered.

Ori opened his mouth to respond, but then snapped it shut, a tight frown replacing his amusement.

Remus lifted a brow, "Oh, have I offend your delicate sensibilities, darling?"

"Stuff it," Ori repeated. "No I was upset over something else entirely. Anyway, the term I was referring to is 'too pround to suffer life'. I guess that's a phrase, strictly speaking. The point stands."

Remus shot him a look as they started walking along. "I'm not even certain what the point is… that you hoity-toity use seven words when only one would suffice? Because it's easier to just call me stubborn. My mother certainly makes a point to remind me at every opportunity, at least."

"That doesn't sound nearly as mocking."

"Stuff it."

Ori laughed. The hand he had placed lightly across Remus' lower back to steady him had somehow curled around his side, bringing his warmth along Remus' entire body.

"So, tell me. Did you vanquish all the horrid villains and arrive victorious amongst the rubble of lesser men?"

Remus lifted a confused brow at him that made Ori roll his eyes with an amused sigh.

"The first round. It went well?"

"I made it through to the second round, so it must have gone as expected." Remus replied. "So tell me, fancy boy, why do they bother with all of this nonsense, waste all this time and money, when the candidates are already decided upon and we're obviously just going through the motions?'

"There's not as much cheating as you obviously think. As to why we still do the tournament, it's because of this thing called obeying the law—"

"Overrated." Remus muttered, gaining an amused brow from Ori before he continued on.

"Changing a law like that is no easy matter. When the Tournament was first established, Regent Charlet made damned good and sure it would stick, and she had friends aplenty, so Jam— er, the Potter's, do well to remind us all, to help her. So it's stuck, and there are more than enough supporters of the Potter's traditions in seat to make sure it continues to stick, no matter how loud the opposition gets."

Remus notes a slight dip in Ori's tone as he says this. As the entire Realm is aware, the main opposition, although never outright stated to the public, comes from the Potter's opposing rulers— the Blacks. Remus offhandedly wondered which Ori found himself favoring. Most of the Realm tended to have a favorite, though Remus found it a tedious and rather unnecessary declaration to make considering his opinion on the matter specifically would change absolutely nothing. Ori on the other hand, well he was high bred, perhaps his word has some say in the higher court, but Remus hardly concerned himself with such matters. Truly, he hardly cared which Royal House was in power— it never changed anything for people or creatures like him.

"It's actually pretty difficult to successfully rig the tournament, and even the best of plans can be upset by a stray fisherman with more talent and determination than anyone expected."

Remus peered up at him, somewhat distracted despite himself by the handsome lines of Ori's face, the faintest hint of stubble, and the way he smelled like the warm, spice tea that Remus only ever got at the Winter Peace festival when the temples handed it out free for a day as part of their 'duties' to the poor. Free tea and free food: that was all Remus welcomed without complaint it would seem. Perhaps he did prefer one Royal house over the other, as when the Potter's were in of heavier influence over the Realm it seemed easier to get his hands on such things. He never bothered himself with wondering where it came from, just glad that it did, but conversing with someone like Ori reminded him that there were plays being made and hands being dealt that influenced more people than him and the few people he cared for.

He realized then Ori had caught him starring openly, admiring, for lack of a better word, and hastily cleared his throat. "You seem to know a lot, but I guess for nobles there's as much to be lost as we have to gain."

"Depends on who you ask," Ori said moodily.

"I'm asking you,tosser. You seem to care too much for someone not directly affected by the matter. Though I suppose it could be a sibling on the chopping block."

Ori's expression flashed as his gaze darted away from Remus, but it vanished a moment later. "I don't have the luxury of choice in the matter. I've always been intended to be the tournament prize for my family. I do find myself foolishly hoping though—"

"Hoping?"

A twitch on the corner of Ori's lips drew Remus' distracted gaze that seemed intent on reacting to every one of Ori's movements.

"It will sound absurd to you I'm sure, as you so clearly have immense distaste for the Tournament and it's purposes, but I find myself hoping that the stranger whom I wind up with is agreeable, preferably someone I can stand being around and who in turn doesn't hate me either— though there are ways to deal with that should it happen." Ori grinned over at a him, the earlier mood of dreary completely lacking, in replace a teasing light in his stare. "I'd tell you my house, but that would be cheating."

"I'm fairly certain just talking to me, especially about the Tournament, is cheating."

"Not if you don't know who I am. I could be lying… Anyway, it'll only count if I get caught."

Remus rolled his eyes. "Spoken like a true High City. Are we done walking yet?"

The light bubble of laughter sparked from Ori heated Remus' skin in a very uncommon way, well for him anyway. He felt Ori alter their steps, helping Remus over a low bit of wall that framed the yard between the gatehouses.

"Sit. I don't have the slightest where I was leading you anyway."

Remus tramped down the delightful fluttering in his chest at hearing Ori command him so. Since when did he ever enjoy being told what to do? Never. He never enjoyed it. But—

"Butcher Street." Remus forced out and slumped against him, unable to stay upright.

Everything hurt. "I may as well give up and turn myself in to the Collector now."

"You're doing all this because of a Collector?"

Remus snorted and sat up enough to give him a look. "Not a Collector, the Collector." He sighed when Ori just gave him a baffled look. "He runs the pit fights and is in charge of most of the smuggling around here, bit of free labor for the tasks that tend to stain ones hands red, the kind you High City prefer to hire rather than be caught actually doing. Anyway, he mainly runs the gambling pits as a side hobby."

"Oh, right."

Remus gave him an even more scathing look.

Ori smirked sheepishly. " Alright, alright. I've never heard of him. I honestly didn't know there was one go to for that sort of thing. I, uh, don't leave the house much. My best mate says if it wasn't for sex, I'd never get my nose out of a book. I prefer the worlds outside of my families small influence. Books are often the only solace I get from the duties required of me."

"One of those sort, eh?" Remus smiled at the thought, wishing he could have such leisurely activities to cling too on a day to day basis, and a memory flickered through his mind. "It was a book that made me start talking to you."

Ori's face brightened. "You remember. Yes, it was a book that provoked conversation. You wanted to know how snotty or idiotic I could possibly be that I'd bring a book to a bar."

"You said it was a book of…" Remus frowned, trying to recall the ridiculous word Ori had used. "Some stupidly fancy word for sex stories."

"Erotic," Ori replied, mouth curving in a smile that Remus definitely remembered, and if he hadn't felt like death, he might have been up to seeing if he could get a repeat. "It was a volume of erotic stories. You wanted to now why I'd bother to read about sex when a pretty boy like me could be having it."

Remus rolled his eyes. "I remember where the night went after that. Pathetic, I'm not usually swayed when it comes to your sort."

"I should be offended at all the scathing ways you can say things like High City and your sort and hoity-toity, but it's oddly appealing, like the burn of good whisky. There's also the way it makes me stare at your mouth."

Remus snorted, though the sound of it made it clear that he was amused, "Sod off. I've heard better lines from paying customer—" He broke off, the light pleasurable feeling draining away, replaced by dread.Stupid.

He was surprised to hear the effortless laugh come from Ori beside him, as he expected him to either pull away in disgust as High City often did at learning of his occupation.

"I refuse to believe that I give worse compliments than paying customers. For one, they're paying, which means they don't even mean it."

"And you're the first sincere nob, is that it?" Remus countered, feeling oddly exposed and not entirely enjoying it. "I thought you were taking me home."

"You needed a moment to rest."

Remus ignored that and stood up, immediately regretting it, but there was little choice. He needed to gather himself before work that night, or damned afternoon would have been a waste. Ori pulled one of Remus' arms across his shoulders, got his own arm around Remus' waist, and they resumed walking.

After a few silent moments, he asked, "Do you even know where Butcher Street is?"

"I've memorized the city map, so yes," Ori said.

Remus knew that tone. "How many times have you gotten lost?"

"Sod off," Ori muttered. "If I could find a bit of you that wasn't already banged up, I'd give you a solid pinch."

Remus laughed, even though his ribs ached in protest. The pain was immediately soothed by Ori's large hand and thin fingers pressing firmly in to the dip of his side, steading him as they continued on.

"Left here," and then raised an amused brow at Ori, asking, "A pinching? Really?"

"Har har, never heard the expression before?" He lifted his chin defiantly like a spoiled child. "Be quiet like a good invalid. Left here? You're sure?"

"You know after twenty odd years of scamping around these streets I have actually come to know them quite well. There was a sewer travesty last year, and they had to tear up the whole place. Smoke Street cuts through Potions Row, which will take up to Butcher Street."

Ori huffed. "A year? It's been an entire year. You would think the maps would have been updated in that time. There's no excuse for such slovenly practice—" he broke off when Remus laughed, but petulantly added, "They should update the maps."

"What a pity it is indeed. How will you ever go on? Precious delicate High City. His maps outdated, how is he to learn the city if he cannot have an accurate map to stare at for hours on end?"

"You sound like my father and brother, and that is not at all how I want to regard you," Ori replied. They came to a halt as they reached a cross street. "So… this is yours then?"

"Good guess. Right and continue on until you see the shop with the blue door, then we turn left."

"As you command."

Remus couldn't dismiss the heat flaring in his cheeks as they continued forward. But then the silence stretched and he found himself not entirely uncomfortable with it. In fact, it was almost far too comfortable for his liking. As if he were simply walking along side Frank or one of the others. Then he realized that he and Ori had been getting on rather easily, as if he were one of the others, but he wasn't sure what to make of that. But it was also what had drew him to Ori in the first place the other night, why he'd decided to play with someone outside of his reach when normally he avoided that for harder than he avoided the city guard or Fenrir. Ori was… different, interesting, and genuinely sweet. The sort of idiot who read a book in a pub and didn't care what others made of him. It was the type of confidence that wasn't taught, but acquired over time. Usually as a result of some hardened experience or the other.

Remus quickly diminished his own curiosity to understand each part of his thoughts on the man beside him. Hopefully, after he dropped Remus off, he would have appeased his desire to do a good deed for the poor and go on his merry way. Unless he was hoping for another go in the bedroom, but Remus was barely going to be capable of doing that for Andy in a few hours.

Whatever. Nobles. They always got bored of slumming it eventually. Ori would totter off from boredom or the need to chase something newer and shinier.

"We're here. I thought you'd look more excited."

"I'm not going to give you a compliment. You probably get enough of those, " Remus rooted grimly, not liking the way Ori seemed to observe his ever emotion dispute his efforts of hiding them. "I can manage the stairs myself. If I have you shoving me up I'll never live that down."

"Very well, I know an order when I hear it." Ori bent at the waist, gesturing a rather dramatic sweep of his hand, bowing low enough fit for a prince.

Remus gave him a shove, or as much as he could mange. "Go away. People are starring."

"See you later tonight," Ori replied and winked before spinning away like a dancer. Or maybe a drunk. Remus heard Ori humming as he walked along the street. The idiot was going to get his boots and coin purse stolen. It wasn't until Ori turned out of sight that Remus realized he had been watching him the entire time. Shaking himself, he trudged into the shop and slowly, painfully made his was all the way up the stairs.


Remus had hardly been asleep a full hour when a knock sounded at the door. With slight struggle, he forced himself into a sitting position. "Come in."

He hoped it wasn't Bertram asking for the rent, because he still had a week to pay it, and he hadn't been late the past seven times. The man could bugger off.

But it was only Lucinda. She looked around his room with a gentle shake of her head, giving him one of those peculiar smiles that was affectionate and gently reprimanding all at once. "Honestly, Remus, what are you doing getting involved with the tournament? Thought you had more sense."

"Believe me, I do, and I'm not in it by choice. Is something wrong? I'll have rent by the end of the—"

"Shush now, I didn't come to pester you about that," she said and set down a small pitcher and glass, followed by three twists of paper. Potions. Expensive by the looks of the vial. "A boy came by, said these were for you, from your favorite 'pretty idiot' I believe were his exact sentiments."

"Foolish prat." Remus muttered, then hastily added, "sorry," when Lucinda gave him a look for his language. The whole street had heard her butcher her husband like one of his pigs when he got to swearing too much. Remus sighed and took one of the three vials, "Thanks for bringing it up. I don't need more than one, though, if you'd like the other two."

She hesitated, eyeing the crystal vials. The potions were expensive, very expensive, and hard to come by, so Lucinda had probably never even laid eyes on them before, though they were one of the few things that could help her husbands back, which was pretty much in constant pain ever since he was a solider. Remus waved a lazy hand, gesturing her to keep them. "Go on. You know I don't use this stuff if I can help it. What would I do with it all?"

A smile stretched on her thin lips, a grateful gleam filled her expression. "Remus," her voice was softer, clearly unable to take the gesture without making a show of it. Remus shook his head.

"Please," I added, "It's no bother. Besides the idiot who brought these can probably get his hands on an endless supply if I needed more."

A sly grin filtered on her face then as she arched a brow, "Is this serious then? He was incredibly handsome."

Remus rolled his eyes and flopped back on his pillows, only slightly wincing at the jarring of his muscles that ached in protest. He let out a groan and Lucinda smiled, standing from where she was once sat near him on the edge of the bed.

"No. He's— he's just bored and looking for some entertainment or something. It's nothing."

"Hmm," she hummed, eyeing him cheekily. "If you say so, though, I doubt anyone would willingly go out of their way to drop off potions for someone they were only seeking entertainment from—" at the look Remus gave her she let out a soft laugh, "Alright, alright. It's none of my business." She lifted the other two vials and smiled again, "I'll be sure to see to it that somethings adjusted in the rent, eh? And come down to the kitchens before you go out tonight and I'll have something ready for ya."

"Thanks Luce."

When she'd gone, Remus managed to sit up enough to pour himself some water and dump the potion into it. Drinking it quickly to get it over with, gaging at the taste, he lay back down and sighed as the option almost immediately began to work. It really was the good stuff, the best of remedies. The cheaper potions, the type to be brewed on the streets were nothing compared to what the royals were allowed, having their own potion maters living within the safety of their castles must be a brilliant perk. He thought bitterly. The cheap potions usually took hours to take effect, but this— this potion was already taking effect, curing his aches and pains. With a much needed sigh of relief, Remus finally, fell asleep.

Climbing out of bed, two hours later, he quickly washed off with cold water and the last bit of soap he had, then pulled on his temple best, since the rest of his clothes were in a fit state to be showing up to a brothel, even if he'd be taking them right off again.

Downstairs, there was food precisely as promised, though no people. Must have gone to temple or been called away on something else. Remus shrugged and made short work of the day-old bread soaked in broth and stewed vegetables.

He was still chewing on a piece of bread as he headed out, walking as quickly as he could manage across town to Honey Street. Rapping on the back door, he kissed the cheek of the young girl who answered, the bright pink haired girl, Tonks, grinning madly up at him.

"I know. I know." He muttered, ducking his head as she placed her hands on her hips. "I'm late. Has your mother asked for me yet?"

"She hasn't, though there was someone here earlier for you."

This caused Remus to stop short, swallowing the last of his bread. He filtered through his mind for who it could possibly be, dread entering his mind immediately as he wondered if Fenrir had moved up his allowed time to repay him.

"Don't look so pale, Re. Go on back. Mum's in a good mood. 'Suppse to be a busy night."

"Right." He cleared his throat and gave her a tight smile then hurried through the kitchen and down a short hall to Andy's office. "Sorry I'm late!"

Andromeda was waving her hand dismissively at him as she sauntered over to him, pulling him into a tight embrace. "No bother dear. Not for you anyhow." She glanced at him, eyeing him up and down with a dovishly grin making Remus blush. Hardly anyone could cause him to do that these days, but Andy, he had always longed for her approval. She was one of the few people he respected and wanted to do well for her.

"Anyway," she said quickly, clasping her hands over her chest with a bright smile. "I'm not going to complain about an employee of mine who brings in a customer paying triple to have you for the night, insisted on waiting for you to arrive, and ordered plenty of food and wine to keep himself occupied. He's in the violet room, move along now. No time for you questions— he's been waiting long enough!"

Remus stilled. So someone had requested him? Who in the fuck knew he worked here besides Frank? No one ever requested the same whore twice. Remus hardly shared his name if he didn't have to. Gathering his wits quickly, he ushered out of the room and down the immaculate hall towards the gran violet room— also the most expensive room. To have it reserved for only one person, well that was also unheard of. Confusion settled deep within his bones and for once, Remus felt anxious for the night ahead of him, wondering if whatever was going to be requested of him this night, may be a tad off from his usual pervasion. Not to mention that he was the least likely to be requested for such a high profile customer. He was the eldest of the men that worked for Andy, granted twenty-eight was hardly ancient, but still.

I'll see you tonight.

His feet stopped just outside of the violet room with a sudden halt. Ori's voice ringing in his ears. Then quickly, heart hammering wildly in his chest, hoping…

Upon opening the door, he took in the familiar room. It was decorated ostentatiously in purple, cream, gold, and was resaved usually for nobles, the highest of them, but also the occasional merchant.

Remus stepping in a then softly closed the door behind him, trying to calm his racing heartbeat as the click of the latch seemed to echo through his mind like a bell.

Taking a deep breath, he turned around and mustered up alls of his ability to rationalize what the fuck was happening.

Place his hands on his hips, he glared at the sight before him. "What in the buggering fuck are you doing here?"

"You know," drawled Ori with a wicked smirk, though his posture would make one assume he seemed hardly bothered by Remus' demanding tone. "Someone once asked me thatverysame question at thisveryimportantdinner I attended? I was twelve. You can imagine how impressed I was by theimportanceof thisveryimportantdinner. It was some minor noble, I think, affronted that a child who'd insulted his own families beliefs had also been invited. I laughed so hard when the guards ushered him out for speaking to me that way, I spit wine out my nose and got it all over my younger brother's nice, new snow-white robes. I thought my mother was going to strangle me with her diamond necklace. Thankfully, she loves those diamonds more than both her children combined, so I was merely banned from very important dinners for a couple more years."

Remus rolled his eyes. "You poor thing."

Ori grinned from where he was sprawled lazily across the plush bed, wearing only an emerald and gold dressing robe that he hadn't even bothered to belt closed. "You don't sound very sorry for my awful, awful childhood. The wine was red. Did I mention? I hate red wine."

"Your parents sound quite cruel," Remus replied, walking slowly down the few steps to the level of where the bed was. His gaze was trailing over the vast amounts of skin revealed to him form beneath the robe that he missed the slight tenseness of Ori's jaw at his words. "Though," Remus continued, finally bringing his annoyed expression up to the beautiful set of piercing grey eyes, "If I have to endure similar stories to that all night,Ishall need some wine, and I'm not particularly picky what color it is."

A light laugh filtered from Ori's lips as he sat up on one elbow and then swung his feet over the edge of the large bed and stood, walking over to a small table laden with wine and food— even sweets, which Remus never got, save on special occasions or when Frank stole some from whomever he was shagging at the moment. He knew Remus adored chocolate, the thoughtful bastard. Eyeing the vast amounts of food laid out almost made Remus want to be angry again. He couldn't fathom what it would be like to be able to ear whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. He'd probably eat honey cakes and chocolate everyday and wind up fatter than a pig being led to slaughter.

"Why are you here?"

Ori was pouring them both a glass of wine and smirked at him over his shoulder.

"If you have to ask what I'm doing in a brother, then I have to wonder what exactly my lovely cousin has been making you do."

Remus frowned and sat down, suddenly more exhausted the longer he attempted to sort out the absurdity of that statement.

"Did you say cousin?"

"Hm?" Ori said as he turned to hand Remus his glass. Remus immediately downed half of the glass and felt the burn of bitterness and something sweet cloak his tongue and winced. Ori shook his head and reached for the bottle, filling it to the top once more. "Yes, cousin. Andromeda and I are cousins. She's my favorite, in fact."

"But—" Remus sputtered, shaking his head, narrowing his eyes a bit and then decided he would inquire more about that later with Andy. "I meant— I mean what are you doing at this particular brothel? How did you know I'd be here?"

"Oddly enough, there aren't many blokes with the name Remus. It only took a couple of inquires to sort out where you worked. You did let it slip that you worked in this business. I simply did my due diligence in investigating where said work took place."

He smiled like a small child who'd managed to put his clothes on by himself.

"Stalking, more like." Remus muttered before taking another long sip.

Without missing a beat, Ori sauntered towards him after placing the bottle on the bedside table. The robe, emerald and heavily embroidered in gold, looked made to compliment to his sun-kissed skin. The way it hung open left nothing to the imagination— not that Remus needed imagination. His memory worked just fine. Too well, in fact, as that image had been particularly difficult to be rid of as of late.

Remus wasn't certain what to do. This wasn't a normal circumstance for him. His other clients did not offer him wine (unless pouring it over him and licking it off counted— which Remus didn't think it did)— they also did not request him, and certainly did not want to chat before getting down to business. He was certainly off his game with the rarity of the situation. He hoped it didn't show.

With not much else to do, he found himself swallowing down the last of his glass and then glanced over to find Ori watching him.

"This is, well, actually very delicious."

"It is remarkably good stuff," Ori agreed, wandering away to pour them both another glass. "Andromeda, I'm sure, finds my insistence on having this particular wine a hassle, apparently her distributors don't carry wine of this caliber, but for me, Andy early skimps on anything. Charges heavily, even for family, but I've hardly regretted a shilling once I've had a glass. I usually leave her a bottle or two as well, which I'm sure she appreciates."

Remus tried not to grimace. He had absolutely no way to relate to what he was saying. The mere thought of how much the wine he was drinking made him feel dizzy, so naturally, he wasn't going to waste a single taste. He finished off another glass easily, allowing himself the tiny spoil. If Ori wanted to be a fool with his money, then fine, who was Remus to not indulge this man's need to impress his latest fleeting interest. He'd be bored of him eventually, may as well make the most of it.

Remus gathered his confidence as the wine began to settle, loosening his tense shoulders and even stiffer discomfort.

"So," he cleared his throat and allowed Ori to fill his glass once more. "You must have something particularly unusual and extravagant in mind, to be buying my medicine and plain game with your fancy wine."

Ori rolled his eyes as he took a sip of his own cup. His wet lips glistening and drawing Remus' gaze to them. "I don't want anything, Remus."

"That's a lie."

Ori ignored this assessment and nodded behind them, "Come, lay down."

So it was a lie. Remus wasn't sure why he suddenly felt a pang of disappointment. What had he expected they were going to do? Sit around and swap bed time stories? That would have been unbelievably unsettling.

Without thinking, almost on impulse from being in the brothel, he began removing his clothes. When he felt long fingers wrapping around his wrist he looked up to see Ori frowning slightly.

"You don't have to." He offered softly. "Whatever you'd be more comfortable in."

Remus pulled out of his grasp and held his stare as he removed his coat, then unbuttoned his shirt and removed his pants. He was obviously here for a reason and Ori's strange need to stuff him with wine and soft reassurances was making him slightly pissed, to be honest. He was a whore. Ori was paying for him. That's all this was. Nothing more. He would get undressed, just as he did every other time, with any other customer.

Remus noticed Ori's grip on the glass in his hand curl tighter and his chest rise a bit slowly and fall a little shakily as he stepped out of the last of his clothing. Remus lifted an impatient brow and moved past him to lay on the bed.

Then he let out a 'oof' when a bundle of fabric struck him in the face. He fumbled and finally got a hold of the heavy material, saw it was another dressing robe, an exact mirror of the one Ori was wearing.

"Much as I enjoy staring at your are, put that on before you freeze it right off."

Remus' frown deepened, but he did as he was told, steadily ignoring the enjoyment he felt surge through him at hearing his nobleness give him a demand. He did not enjoy being told what to do. Ever. So why was his stomach fluttering with excitement at the thought of obeying the prat eyeing him, waiting patiently as he did what he was told.

When in doubt though, follow orders. He stood up to pull it on, then climbed back in bed. Ori joined him moments later, carrying a small plate of food and filling Remus' cup. He set the food between them, handed Remus the win, then pulled something from the pocket of his robe.

He was waring an unnaturally pleased grin as he said, "I bought you a present."

"I don't want it." Remus replied evenly, tossing a piece of cheese in his mouth and settling deeper into the comfort of the pillows, followed by another piece and a long sip of wine.

"Oh, now whose being the prat?" Ori replied and dropped the paper-wrapped packet in Remus' lap.

Remus scowled at him but handed off his win when Ori flicked his fingers, and pulled away the twine and paper. The ornate writing, all loopy and long, took him a little while to puzzle out. He wasn't very amused when he did.Beginning Manners and Etiquette for Young Persons of Quality.

"Har fucking har," he said, and without even thinking about it, knock Ori on the head with it.

He realized his stupidity in the next moment and recoiled, opening his mouth to form an apology— but Ori was already laughing gleefully, looking even more pleased with himself than he already had. There was a playfulness in his features that brought out the tenderness in his gaze that Remus found unmistakeninglyhim.

"I knew you'd love it."

"Hate it." Remus muttered, biting his lip to hide his grin.

Ori continued looking pleased with himself as he watched Remus from behind his glass as he tilted it to his lips.

"Well, you could always sell it. Might get a couple pennies for it. But I'd hold on to it if I were you. It's bad luck to part with a love token."

"Love token?" Remus scoffed, but his tone remained light as he added, "You consider this a token of love, no wonder you lot need a tournament to get married."

Ori released a bark of a laugh, one that caught Remus so off guard he almost spilled his wine. It was unfiltered at so fucking genuine, and fuck— beautiful really.

"I wish I could deny that, but I would be struck down by the powers that be for telling so great a lie. Drink your wine, eat something. I've brought another book. This one is a collection of tales from past tournaments. Thought I'd read to you. Maybe you'll learn something useful."

Remus gave him doubtful look than caused his grey eyes to dance with amusement once more as his longer fingers fumbled with the pages of the smaller text. Though, and Remus would never admit it, being read to did sound rather nice, as did the indulgence of food and wine, the idea of it was almost enough to allow him to forget where exactly they were.

He eyes Ori's profile for a moment, completely uncertain what to say or even do. The whole night was too baffling for him to even consider what to do with it.

"You are the strangest person I have ever met."

"Yes, well, I'm also a paying customer darling, so do as you're told."

Remus smirked at that, using his left hand to give Ori a mock salute. "Yes, Your Highness."

Ori chocked on his win, then cast Remus a look that was part a glaring and part utter fear. He quickly shook the expression off and settled for the mock glare, "Stuff it. Lay back and behave or I'll read the book of manners instead, and we'll both sleep so hard we won't wake for three days."

"As the customer demands," Remus replied and obeyed because strange as the situation was, he wasn't about to complain about being able to just rest when that was all he had been longing for. Besides, it was Ori's money, Ori's time, food and win, and Remus was more than happy to enjoy it. He even felt himself relax enough to settle closer to Ori's warmth, their sides pressed against the length of the other as his posh voice soothed over him, engulfing the room and the utterly bizarre night.