Valkea, this is for you. Because you create the most wonderful Remus-Sirius Fanart. Ever.

Please believe me that the German version is much better; I never translated any of my own writings before, and it turned out to be a difficult task. I hope you like it anyway.

Anyone else: This is Fanart-Fanfiction, if something like this exists. You may go and see the picture who started the story, it is http :// valkea dot livejournal dot com/2526.html#cutid1.

Enjoy.

The last cigarette

„What is going on here?"

Remus considers checking from the outside, if he has gotten to the wrong flat by mistake, but this is his one, no doubt, familiar thirteen square meters, cheap furnishing, the single window pointing down on the city highway, just that he can't see the window because of cigarette smoke and at least one dozen of people, chatting and laughing.

"What the hell is going on here?" he repeats, louder this time, to get through the music spilling from his strained gramophone (Sirius' music, not his). At first glance he spots James, Lilly, Kingsley, Joanne and some of Sirius' colleagues from the agency, and then there's Sirius, blocking him from the rest of the party with his broad smile, and closing the door behind him.

"Moony!" he says. "There you are. Why are you so late? You're missing the party!"

"If I'd known that there was a party going on, I would have been in time", Remus says. "Or, perhaps not. Perhaps I would have fled to Godric's Hollow. Or Australia. It is a Siriusparty, isn't it? Why are you throwing a Siriusparty in my flat?"

"It is a surprise party" Sirius beams. "A Sirius-and-Remus-Goodbye-Surprise-Party."

Remus contemplates the word, while Sirius jiggles on his feet, clearly waiting for some word of praise, like a happy child.

He looks glamourous, Sirius, his cheeks are flushed and there's a thick, unruly strand of hair escaped from his ponytail and curling around his ear. Remus thinks that probably Sirius is the only person in the world who can wear a canary yellow shirt along with a blue-black patent leather jacket without looking like a clown.

"So?" Sirius says. "So? So? Whaddya say?"

"You look great", Remus says.

"I know", Sirius says impatiently. "But what do you think about it?"

"Erm" Remus says. "Thanks… for the party…?"

"It's been a pleasure", Sirius beams.

Remus looks for a place to put down his bag, but the chair next to the door is loaded with a pack of jackets and cloaks. Remus puts his bag to the floor.

"Hi", Sirius says, hands deep in the pockets of his trousers, and closes the space between them. Remus feels his breath tickling his cheeks (beer, cigarettes, Sirius). "Hello, Moony. Hi, Moony."

"What about the and Sirius?" Remus asks, while Sirius buries his nose in the curve of his neck, humming happily.

"Hm?" Sirius says, kissing a tiny spot of oversensible skin on Remus' neck. Remus breathes and leans deeper into the touch.

"A Remus-and-Sirius-Goodbye-Party", Remus says. "I mean, I know where I am going to, but where are you going to?"

"With you, of course", Sirius says.

"Yes", Remus says. "Of course. With me. Stupid question. When did you come up with this hilarious idea?"

"It is a beautiful idea", Sirius corrects. "One of the many beautiful, stunning ideas I constantly happen to have. It is, isn't it? It is?" He lifts his head from Remus' neck and looks at him, his eyes like sparkling stars.

"You would not leave me all alone, here in London", Sirius says. "What should I do, all on my own in my lonely bed?"

Remus thinks about Maggie and Jennifer and Angela and Jean-Luc and that a lonely bed is something Sirius hardly knows, and needs not getting to know it, if he doesn't want to.

"You want to go to Oxford with me", he says, just to be sure that he got the point.

"Yeah", Sirius says.

"But why?" Remus says.

"Because I love you, idiot", Sirius says. "Noticed it this afternoon."

"Noticed it this afternoon", Remus repeats and fails to force down helpless laughter.

"Yes", Sirius says, "What's up? What are you laughing about?", and lifts his hands in a gesture of accusation, while Remus tries to regain his composure.

"Oh, Pads", he says, "oh, Pads", and wipes a little wet trail from the corners of his eyes.

"I've been thinking about it", Sirius says, leaning forward and pinning Remus against the door with all his weight. "I can Apparate to London for Agency jobs. You know, I don't have to be there every day. And there's nothing in London that I couldn't do in Oxford as well. London is a stupid place with none of you guys around."

Remus turns his head and presses his cheek against the cool patent leather. He understands Sirius, and he thinks that everything would be easier if Sirius understood himself.

"Aren't you happy?" murmurs Sirius, and Remus feels sudden tension sweeping over the other one, feels how his rhythm of breath changes and his muscles harden.

"Of course", he says, "of course I'm happy", and I would be happier if I could be sure that love is the same to you as it is to me, and not just the absence of boredom.

"I am happy" he says, because his own confusion he can handle better than Sirius' anxiety, and Sirius breathes and relaxes, and Remus lifts his head and puts his hands on the other's face and kisses him, because the tender curve of Sirius' lips is the only luxury he can't do without. Then, back at the window, someone throws a party spell which produces an explosion, and Remus ducks his head and appreciates the fact that the flat is already dismissed. He leaves Sirius to some of his colleagues from the agency and crosses soft confetti rain on his way to the window, where he finds James, as expected in the centre of the explosion.

"My last London evening", Remus says. "Perhaps we could try to keep the police from my door, couldn't we?"

"Oh, hi, Moony", James says, a colourful sparkle of confetti sprinkled over his unruly hair. "Don't bother. Nice to see you, finally."

"I had to get my things from University. I didn't know that somebody was committing a party on me."

"You wouldn't have come, if you knew."

"Right."

"We knew that. You keep forgetting how very well we know you." James sends a grin to Peter, who is leaning against the window, fishing confetti from his glass of beer with his fingers. "It was his idea. You can thank him. Or threaten him, as you wish."

"My idea was having a nice and quiet evening out, emphasis on nice and quiet. Just the four of us, for old times' sake", Peter says. "You took the idea and created a monster."

"As usual", Remus says. "Alas, the missing I will do of all of you in my well-ordered post-graduate life."

"No need for that", James affirms. "Just send an owl, and we'll be there, creating the best chaos you've ever had."

"I don't think I will miss you that much", Remus says. "By the way, is there a beer for me, at my own party?"

"Your wish, my command" James says and heads off to the kitchen.

"Well", Peter says, shaking wet confetti from his fingers. "There they go, the Marauders, blown in the wind across the island. What a pity."

"The end of our famous London era", Remus says. "Did you know that Sirius plans to come with me, by the way?"

"Recently", Peter says. "He came out with it before the party started."

"Then you've known it before I did", Remus says darkly.

"Oh, really" Peter says. "One should think that you're the first one to talk about it."

"One should think", Remus says. "But there are different laws of nature in the Padfoot-Universe."

"Right", Peter says, grinning wryly. "Forgot about that."

He takes a sip from his glass, while Remus watches the traffic go by under his window and tries to imagine the name label on the door: S. Black / R. J. Lupin, as if they were more than just two leaves being washed against each other in the current of life. Then he feels Peter watching him, thoughtful over the rim of his glass.

"Do you know why he wants to?" Peter asks. "I mean, I know that you – with him – that you, the both of you – have been what? A couple? Or still are? Is that the reason he wants to come with you?"

"He says he loves me", Remus says. "Told me that he noticed it this afternoon."

"Hah", says Peter.

"Right", Remus says. "Who knows the Padfoot-Universal definition of love. Probably he simply doesn't want to be left alone in London. I shouldn't get my hopes up too high."

"You should talk to him, before you get involved too deep. He should not hurt your feelings. Or, at least try not to. Not again, that is. If you can – if one can have this kind of talk – in your – situation…"

Peters voice dies away, and he blushes to the tips of his ears. Remus feels a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, it feels good and real and softens the knot inside of him.

"One can", he says, lifts his hand and brushes confetti from Peter's shoulder. "And one should. Thanks, Peter."

"Great", Peter says and stares sadly into his glass. "Now there are new ones in it."

Remus laughs and casts Separatis on Peter's beer, and then James is back and brings a cool, wet bottle, and Remus takes it and begins warming himself up to the party.

Talking to Sirius during a party turns out to be a difficult task. Sirius follows his stellar course through the heavens of festivity, shines for the Agency ladies, gives a sparkle to old friends from school and blinds Remus into speechlessness with the brightest of lights, whenever he gets into the stellar focus. Anyway talking is hardly possible with Sirius' luxurious lips on his, and even the urge to talk fades into nothingness.

"Mmh", Remus says, and Sirius grins and continues his stellar course.

Later in the evening, or perhaps early in the morning, the opportunity arises, and Remus takes it. Sirius is alone in the tiny kitchen, searching the kitchen boards, while water is cooking on the stove.

"Any coffee left?" he asks over his shoulder.

"Excuse me", Remus tells Kingsley, who is heading into the kitchen behind him, probably to get one of the leftover bottles of beer, who are kept cool in the sink by water and magic. "This kitchen is off limits for five minutes", and closes the door into Kingsley's startled face. Then he opens it again, says "Excuse me", pulls the key from the keyhole outside, closes the door and locks it from the inside. Then he pushes a chair in front of the door, blocking it, and sits down.

Sirius has given up his search for coffee and turns to face Remus.

"Five minutes, Moony" he says, grinning mischievous, and pulling his canary yellow shirt out of his trousers. "You better have a go, then."

"I want to talk to you", Remus says and manages a heroic attempt to ignore the fact that his blood wants to leave his brain and gather southerly in secret places.

"Oh", Sirius says and fiddles with the seam of his shirt. "I'd rather have the coffee, then."

"No more left", Remus informs him. "Just tea bags. Upper shelf to the left."

"Gah", Sirius says. "You don't grant me nothing, don't you."

"Listen", Remus says. "Listen to me. Are you listening?"

"Hmmm", Sirius says, indecisively eyeing the leftover bottles in the sink.

"You want to go to Oxford with me", Remus says.

"As I said", Sirius says. "Is there a problem?"

"I don't know", Remus says. "I mean, how do you picture this?"

"Very simple", Sirius says. "You, Me. Oxford. Sex. Not hard to picture at all."

"You don't have to move to Oxford for having occasional sex with me", Remus points out. "We can Apparate, and I will be connected to the Floo, and even if you have to hand in your Apparition licence once more, and even if they disconnect me from Floo because of unpaid bills, there's still the Knight bus…"

"It was only once that I had to hand in my licence!"

"Don't agitate yourself on the licence."

Sirius sighs and folds his arms in front of his chest. His uneasy gaze wanders through the kitchen.

"Okay", he says. "But there's not just occasional sex to Apparate for."

"No? What else?"

Sirius gestures vaguely.

"Occasional breakfast", he says. "Occasional walking-the-dog. Occasional newspaper-reading. Occasional hanging-around, earscratching, having senseless discussions…"

"I never have senseless discussions", Remus points out. "All my discussions are very profound."

"Don't agitate yourself on the senselessness" Sirius says and manages a crooked grin.

"Okay", Remus says. "I think I get the point."

"Letting you leave on your own simply feels wrong", Sirius says.

"As you noticed this afternoon", Remus says.

"Better later than never", Sirius says.

"How do you want to do it?" Remus asks.

"Doggie style", Sirius grins and pulls at his canary shirt.

"Idiot", Remus says. "Do you want to give up your London flat and get a new one in Oxford?"

"Nah", Sirius says. "I'm rooming in with you, what else."

"What else", Remus says. "I hope you've taken in account that the new flat is hardly bigger than this one."

"Of course we're getting us something more decent, once we're there", Sirius says.

"Please do take in account furthermore that my small academic salary will not by far be sufficient to support your luxurious needs", Remus says. "Even if we share the rent."

"No problem", Sirius says. "I can cut back my luxurious needs."

Remus watches Sirius, considering all of this being one sort of great prank. Any minute he will laugh and shout "Gotcha!", and say something like "Really, Moony, you can't honestly believe that I'm voluntarily leaving London, can you?", and Remus will cut himself a smile into his face and swallow bitter disappointment.

Sirius is silent, and the silence stretches until Remus understands that he has to say something.

"You're serious", Remus says.

"Bright and brilliant, Mister Watson", Sirius says.

"Okay", Remus says in a complete lack of indications for Sirius being anything other than, well, Sirius. "Given that fact, we should perhaps have some kind of… agreement."

"What kind of agreement?" Sirius says. "You want me to come or not?"

"I want you to come", Remus says gently. "And I want it to work. I haven't all day to spend on quarrelling with you. I have some graduation to work on."

"Okay", Sirius says. "Spit it out, then. What kind of agreement?"

Let's try the two of us. Just you and me. Forget about Angela, Helen, Jean-Luc, all the other nameless faces which happen to be your conquers. Let's stop acting as if we didn't have any promises to give each other.

"Mh", Remus says. "Well. First, no more surprise parties. You know I hate them."

"Okay", Sirius says. "That's all?"

Remus sighs silently and wriggles on his chair. From the outside there's a bump against the door.

"What the hell are you doing inside that kitchen?" comes James' muffled voice.

"Bugger off, Prongs!" Sirius shouts. "We want to get finished here!"

"Oh, Merlin", James says on the outside.

"Oh, Merlin", Remus says and buries his face in his hands.

"No parties", Sirius says. "Anything else?"

"What?" Remus says. "Oh. Yes. You… you could… get a little tidier. Stop dropping your belongings wherever you go. You know I'm not a fanatic, but blocked doors are something I find slightly disturbing."

"Okay", Sirius says. "I'll try."

"And stop smoking, for Merlin's sake!" Remus says with growing despair, looks up to Sirius and then, quickly, out of the window to avoid Sirius' gaze which he is not able to bear. "At least, go outside for it."

"What are they doing there inside?" comes Kingsleys dark coloured bass from the other side of the door.

"You wouldn't want to know that, believe me", comes James' voice.

"I only smoke because you smoke", Sirius says.

"I don't smoke", Remus says. "Just by occasion." Just because I can't stop thinking about the things you can do with these lips of yours.

"'S all the same", Sirius says. "Let's stop smoking, the both of us."

"Right", Remus says, still struggling. "Okay."

"So there's one for you", Sirius says. "One appointment."

"Which one?"

"Stop going out with Thomas."

Something slides down Remus' spine, cool like ice cubes, leaving a sudden shudder.

"It's over", Remus says. "What we had. Thomas and me. For quite some time, you know that."

"I know", Sirius says. "But I also know that you sleep with him on occasion. Quite regularly, I assume."

"How would you know that? I mean – it's – why do you think I'd…"

Sirius pushes off the sink, comes over to Remus and knees before him.

"You're my master", he says. "I can smell it when you've been walking other dogs."

Remus looks into the bright blue eyes, eyes like stars, and presses his hands against his cheeks, where a sudden fire is burning.

"Just… occasionally", he says. "Just because I couldn't say no. It didn't mean anything."

"Rubbish", Sirius says, toying with Remus' shirt. "It was good sex. Has always been. You told me. You found it pleasant to continue this part of your relationship, and he didn't mind."

"I didn't know that you knew", Remus says miserably.

"I'm not angry", Sirius says, and there is not a trace of rage in his voice, nor in his eyes, and Remus finds it hard to bear.

"I didn't know that I shouldn't have done it", Remus says, and his voice trails off into misery. "I thought it didn't matter, because of all the Angelas and Jean-Lucs, and… and all your other conquers… I didn't know that… you and... and…"

"There are no conquers any more", Sirius says, leaning his cheek against Remus' knee. "Haven't been any for months. Haven't been any since I discovered that it's not fun when it's not you."

"Oh", Remus says.

"Now look at you", Sirius says with sudden merriment. "You are blushing all over."

"'M not blushing", Remus mumbles. "'M not a girl."

"Yes, you are", Sirius says. "Blushing, that is."

"I'm sorry", Remus says.

"Forget about it", Sirius says. "So do we have a deal?"

"Yes", Remus says.

"Cool", Sirius says and fingers in the pocket of his patent leather jacket to produce a squashed pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

"Didn't we just agree that we wanted to give it up?" Remus asks.

"Yes", Sirius says. "In Oxford. Which doesn't mean that you are allowed to sleep with Thomas, while you're in London."

"Of course not", Remus says.

"See", Sirius says. "Two left. One for you, one for me."

Remus does not feel like smoking, but he feels much less like opening the door and sharing Sirius with the rest of the party. Sirius lightens his cigarette, and Remus watches with fascination the way his full, sweet lips close around the filter and suck, just a little, and the way the tiny flame plays a game of light and shadow on his beautiful face. Automatically he takes the second cigarette and the lighter from Sirius' hand, but the mechanism won't work and the tiny flame won't show, and his shaking hands won't follow his orders.

"Let me", Sirius says and leans over to him, and grabs his wrist to keep him steady, and lightens Remus' cigarette with his own.

Just when Remus opens his eyes he notices that he had held them closed, and he notices how very near Sirius is, with his eyes like stars and a beautiful smile in his beautiful face. Remus breathes deeply.

"I love you, too", Remus says.