Chapter five: The House of Jewels where the Truth will Set you Free

Sirius leisurely lowered himself down to the wet stones—being careful not to get stuck on one of the pipe's bolts. If last week someone would've told him he'd be climbing down the drainpipe of a whorehouse, he would've laughed hard and long—now it didn't even surprise him anymore. Climbing down drainpipes was the least of his worries. Remus was there, and from the looks of it Sirius was absolutely positive Remus didn't want to be there, and Sirius was going to fix it. He had to—Remus was his best friend. He couldn't just leave him hanging.

Sirius found the glass door soon enough—the balcony wasn't that big, and he decided he could always enjoy the view later—he was just about to knock, when he paused. Remus' room was absolutely huge. There were multiple wardrobes, a king-sized bed—with pillows, and even teddy-bears—a dresser, even a bathtub. It seemed more like a suite. Almost every surface in the room was covered with vases and flowers—what Sirius didn't get was where all the brunette's books were. He didn't spot a bookrack, not even a stray book lying on his desk or on the bed. Frowning, he focussed on his friend instead—or what he assumed to be his friend. The tub was partly visual, placed behind a screen, and he could see a silhouette moving. The figure was crouched next to the bath, and stood suddenly. Sirius felt a bit pervy—waiting there by the window, and secretly hoping to catch a bit of his friend's naked body.

And it was indeed Remus. The boy was dressed in a silk robe, and had assumingly drawn a bath. He walked towards his dresser, when he suddenly noticed Sirius, and smiled—coming over to the glass door instead.

"Wauw, you're still completely intact," Remus opened the door, beckoning him in, "I'm shocked. Sit."

"Before I do, you have to talk to me Moony," Sirius bit his lip, and Remus sat down at his dresser—putting on his you're-making-me-nervous-and-I'm-sure-you-have-your-reasons-but-would-you-mind-sharing look, "I mean—if you want to do this kinda work I understand, and you can tell me if this is your choice but I..."

"Sirius, sit. I can explain," Remus interrupted urgently, with some desperation in his voice. He pointed to the bed, "and you just climbed down a drainpipe, and I'm sure you're pumping with adrenaline, but I still want you to sit."

"I'm sitting," Sirius flopped down on the bed, and looked expectantly at Remus—said boy gave a sigh, and focussed on his reflexion in the mirror, avoiding Sirius' eyes.

"My aunt owns this place," he started—and even though Sirius already wanted to jump in, insult his aunt and whatnot, he refrained, deciding that letting the boy say what he had to would be best, "I've lived here for as long as I can remember. When I was nine she said I had pretty legs—I didn't think much of it. Sometimes she made me walk around in a skirt in front of old guys and serve them drinks—she gave me treats if I let them grab my ass," he shrugged—because it sounded weird but it was true and he was used to it. He didn't really care about it any more. So much had happened that he couldn't give a fuck. This was Sirius—he knew the boy would understand, "when I was twelve she told me I better start using my mouth for something else than talking, or she'd put me on the street. I had nowhere else to go—she's all I got. So I started working here as waiter, hoping that if I earned her money doing that, she wouldn't make me do all those other things her boys did. I remember the first time she made me go into one of those little rooms—I don't think I ever screamed that loud. Not even during my transformations. The guy told me he liked it when they put up a bit of a fight, and I relaxed immediately—thought maybe he wouldn't want it if I did what he said," Remus rolled his eyes at himself in the mirror, a smile on his face still, and Sirius held his breath, "stupid of course, but whatever. Not a month later she announced that my virginity would be sold to the highest bidder—she knows how to make money that one, it drew out for over a year. I have to say I was lost for a little while. But I guess you kinda get used to it—and since Hogwarts it's only two months in a year of doing this. My aunt wouldn't let me go to Hogwarts at first—I threatened to run away, go to London by myself without her knowing, and she said yes. She was afraid that if I got to Hogwarts, I might meet people who agreed to take me in during holidays—afraid I'd tell Dumbledore so that she wouldn't have me at all. That's the only reason she let me go. She pays for everything—all worn-down, of course. She wouldn't want to spoil me. As long as I come back here."

Sirius was quiet for a while, everything Remus'd just said sinking in. He tried to process it all, tried to imagine how it must've been for Remus—what hell it must've been like. Apparently his story had ended, because he turned around, not making eye-contact, and fumbled with his stockings, which he was still wearing under the robe, waiting for Sirius to say something—anything.

"Remus, I want to help you," the latter said quietly, but it was the truth so it needed to be said, "will you please let me help you? Please—let me take you away."

"Sirius how would you..." Remus began, but Sirius stood.

"We have room enough at my place Moony—I mean: we have all these bedrooms we don't even use. You can easily come live with me," he sat down on one knee in front of Remus, placing his hand on the younger boy's, "please Moony, say you'll come with me. You can trust me. Let me help you."

"Are..." Remus stuttered, finally looking at the raven. He felt his hand tingle where Sirius touched him—but he needed to be sure. If he was going to get his hopes up, Sirius better not be lying to him, "are you sure?"

"Of course! My mum's not the nicest person in the world, but she'll help her son's friends when they're in trouble. Please Moony, come with me?"

"You... you'll take me away forever?" And somehow Sirius flying him off, keeping him safe for always, sounded way better than it should have.

"Forever Moony—we're leaving in two weeks. I'll just take you home—you can come live with us, you'll never have to be here ever again. I promise, I'll take you away."

Before he could say anything else, Remus had already flung himself around him—he could hear the brunette sobbing , and sympathetically rubbed his back.

"I'm sorry Moony," he whispered, referring to their earlier incident—but he felt Remus shake his head.

"No, I'm the one that's sorry," Remus held on tighter, burying his head in Sirius' neck, "what I did... was quite indecent. And you're my best friend, I should've told you."

"It wasn't indecent," Sirius murmured in the chestnut hair—he knew Remus was talking about his rendez-vous with Lee, "you were with me the whole time."

Remus pulled back enough so he could see Sirius' face—when he found him smiling, he smiled too, whipping away some stray tears.

"Remus!" They froze when a woman's voice called and someone rapped on the door, both turning to it. "Remus! Are you still in there?"

"I'm in the bathtub aunt," Remus stood, going over to his dresser again. He took off his shoes, setting them next to the chair, and turned back to Sirius, "I'll be out soon."

They heard a grunt and heavy footsteps leaving, and Remus scratched the back of his head.

"Erm, listen, I seriously need to clean myself up a bit, so..." he began nervously, and Sirius gave a nod.

"Of course. Is it okay if I... erm... wait?"

"Look," Remus bit his lip, and he went over to the screen, pushing it aside. The white, marble bathtub came in view—it was rather spacious—already filled halfway, and Remus had put some bathfoam in the water, so there were suds with all the colours of the rainbow, "there's bubbles, and I mean, I've seen you naked, you saw me naked—probably saw me strip too—you can join, I mean, if you want to."

"Would you mind if I do?" Sirius questioned, and Remus grinned broadly.

"I wouldn't ask you if I did," he got his wand out of his robe, and used it to securely lock the door and close the curtains, "just put your clothes on the bed."

Sirius did as he was told, while Remus got out his next outfit and put it on the bed next to Sirius' suit. Soon he was down to his underwear, and to buy himself some time he neatly folded his clothes. When he found nothing else to occupy him, he pushed down his boxers and—without looking at Remus—sat down in the bathtub.

Remus hadn't even taken off his robe yet, busy with assembling garters and stockings.

"Man, that takes a lot of time—how many times do you change a day?" Sirius asked, trying to make small talk.

"As many times as my aunt makes me," Remus shrugged, "it varies. Not to mention that if a guy spills on my clothes instead of in the handkerchief, I have to change the entire outfit again. The clothes are actually pretty fun—a bit weird, but I like the shirts."

He smiled, setting a pair of navy-blue high-heeled shoes next to the bed, and outstretched. Absentmindedly he ran over the items of clothing on the bed, as he took off his robe, hanging it over the screen by the bath. He suddenly felt eyes burning into his back and turned to Sirius, finding the boy staring at his garters.

"Don't you dare laugh," he chuckled, and Sirius eyes shot up—widening like a deer caught in headlights, "I like them and I have to wear them for the job."

"They're really sexy Moony," Sirius smirked, happy he could joke about things like that. He always flirted with Remus, and even though everyone thought it was just for funs, he meant everything he said, "you should've showed me those a long time ago."

Remus laughed again, undoing them, as he put them on his bed. Then he pushed down his underwear—a bit uncertainly—and turned to Sirius, who was polite enough to close his eyes, and cover them up with his hands.

He sat down in front of his friend quickly, drawing his knees up to his chest—some of the water gushed over the side of the bath. Admiring Sirius' lean muscles he blushed when he noticed Sirius had opened his eyes again, feeling like a six-year-old caught behind the shed with a dirty magazine.

"Where are all your books?" Sirius asked, completely ignoring the fact that he'd just caught his friend ogling his body.

"I hide them," Remus inwardly sighed in relief, and swung his leg over the side of the tub, so he could wash it, as he continued to explain, "my aunt goes berserk if she sees any of my books lying around—she can be quite abusive," he took a sponge and rubbed fiercely at his inner thigh—destroying all evidence of his meeting with the older man. "It's weird," he suddenly said pensively, "no matter how much I scrub, it never goes away."

"What doesn't go away Moony?" Sirius was almost afraid to ask, because the dark tone Remus' voice had taken scared him.

"The wrong touch," Remus muttered, continuing his scrubbing—but Sirius put his hand on Remus' again, stopping his movements.

He didn't really know what to say that would make it better—if anything could—so instead he pulled the boy closer, and gave him another hug, holding him cautiously in his arms. If there was ever such thing as the wrong touch, Sirius was determined to make his the right one.

--

They dressed in almost complete silence. Sirius did his best not to continuously look at Remus as he got out of the tub, wrapping himself in a silk robe. He flopped down in his chair, drying off his legs as Sirius pulled on his shirt over his head.

The raven sat down on the bed and Remus pulled on a clean pair of stockings, the garters hidden under his red robe. When Remus noticed the boy looking at him, he smiled slightly, and turned to him.

"Sirius?"

"Hmm?" Sirius smiled too, finishing up the buttons of his jacket.

"Thank you," Remus looked down at his feet, drawing up his other stocking.

"What for?"

"For promising you'll take me away," he said in a small voice—and Sirius knew he meant it, which was all he could ever hope for.

AN: I liked the way this chapter went, even though it's a bit short. Let me know your thoughts, and I'll update asap.