Chapter three: The House of Jewels and its mysterious ways of Anger becoming Anguish

Sirius wasn't really nervous. He was pissed off—he wanted to hit something—but nervous, no. He pretended to not be where he was right now, and that was fine. Somehow he'd manage to get through, and even though he had no idea why he was acting the way he was, it was too late to change his mind now. If he wouldn't have been so pissed off, he probably would have rethought this—he probably would've been more sympathetic, he would've felt something, besides this fuelling rage inside of him. But Remus had been right there and people had been touching him, and it drove Sirius absolutely mad—so mad that he didn't even want to think anymore, he wanted to blow a hole in his own head and just die. He was just so...

The door opened and his head snapped up immediately. He could vaguely make out Remus' form, but the boy closed the door immediately, and the room went pitch black again. There was a short silence, and Sirius shifted on the bed—no noise, and he remembered thinking that it were pretty damn good mattresses. Then Remus spoke, and he was reminded of the fact that his best friend—the liar, the bastard, the traitor, the secret-keeper, the distrustful, the cheater—was in the room.

"Nancy told me you want to do this in the dark, so you'll have to help me out here," Sirius knew Remus through and through, and if he wasn't mistaking, Remus wasn't smiling. He could tell, even though the room was completely dark, that Remus wasn't smiling—but did he know Remus at all, really? "Marco?"

"Polo," he masked his voice by speaking into his sleeve—it helped, making his voice sound vague and dusty.

"Oh, you're on the bed," he heard Remus' heels—no, that intruder, Ruby's heels—clack on the floor, and then the noise stilled, as he came closer to the bed, and onto the carpet, "I think..." he reached, and poked Sirius' chest, "this is you?" And now Sirius thought he might just be smiling—but what did he know?

"Yeah, that's me."

"Do you want it like this? Or do you want to make yourself more comfortable?" The maybe-smile was gone again, and Sirius turned his head, even though he couldn't see anything.

"Like this's good," and then he felt the hands against his thighs and his breathing caught in his throat.

This was Remus. He wanted Remus—he loved Remus. But this, this wasn't good. He wanted Remus, but not like this—what had he been thinking? This was so incredibly wrong. He was mad at the brunette, but this was not a good way to handle the situation. Of course, than again, it would serve him right, lying to Sirius like that. Playing the goody goody virgin boy he obviously wasn't. Pretending to be someone he was not, and being perky about it. Being smart and scolding at Sirius for being so crude. How...—he felt deft fingers undo his fly, and couldn't believe it: he was hard, even though he was fully aware of the fact that it was Remus and it was wrong.

When he felt plump lips wrap themselves around his member a light bulb popped up inside his head. This was Remus. Remus, Remus, Remus. He was angry, but this was not supposed to happen. They were...—the wet, velvety heat moved up and down around him, applying more suction, and something snapped inside him—he brutally grabbed Remus' shoulders and hoisted him up, ignoring the small whimper of surprise the boy let out.

"What the hell do you think you're doing Remus!"

The room fell quiet, and Sirius could almost see Remus' eyes burn in the dark.

"Si...—sirius?" he chocked out, and Sirius outstretched his arm, switching on the lights.

As soon as their eyes locked, Remus' brimmed with tears, and he pushed himself away, falling to the floor.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Sirius sneered—and he knew he shouldn't be this angry, and he should be reasonable, but he couldn't. "Tell me Remus, my pal," he laced his voice with sarcasm, unable to contain his rage, "fellow Marauder, how much's that pretty pink mouth of yours worth?"

Remus' eyes only widened and he crawled backwards to the wall, staring at Sirius with scared eyes—but Sirius didn't care, and he kicked against the door, making sure Remus wouldn't be able to leave.

"Is the guy I know just a role you play to encase more money? I'm sure those fucking bastards love the school-boy act," he ranted on—his voice was so load he was sure someone must've heard, but nothing happened, "you make me sick: you're in a fucking skirt! You're a bloody whore, how the fuck could you not have told me," Remus spilled his tears onto his cheeks, but despite the crying, his eyes suddenly glowed darkly. Sirius ignored it, wanting to yell until his throat was raw, "you fucking sell your body! You trade money for your sexual services! How many—"

"SHUT UP!" Remus interrupted him, voice load and eyes shooting fire. He scampered to his feet, pointing an angry finger at Sirius. "DON'T YOU DARE JUDGE ME!" he screamed, and their eyes locked again. Sirius could feel the anger leaving his body, melting like snow in the sun. "You're supposed to be my friend! And then you come here, and you just treat me like a whore and use me like one too. Don't bloody pretend to care, because you don't seem to mind when it's your dick that's getting the attention."

He left the room—tears still running down his face, and Sirius gasped, shutting his eyes. He wasn't angry anymore, but was now positive he'd never felt such pain in his chest. What had he done?

AN: I know this is really dark, because Sirius' initial thought when he found out that Remus worked there, wasn't: 'oh no, my poor friend is being forced to work as a whore!' but 'those bitches are touching what is mine goddammit!' but to be honest, I think that might actually be a Sirius-ish thing to think when he's pissed off. He comes over as quite possessive and sometimes very selfish, so I don't think he's OOC—at all, actually.

I know it's short, but there was nothing more to it. Ah, also: I want like... at least ten reviews, or I'm not updating!