Chapter six: The house of Jewels where you Can Run but Never Hide

Remus woke up with a clenched jaw—a feeling he was rather used to by now—and a fuzzy feeling in his stomach. Working from eight 'til eight was always hard, definitely because that meant he had slim to no chance to catch a bit of the outside world. If his aunt was feeling generous he got a day and a night off per week—but needless to say, his aunt didn't feel generous often.

He outstretched, and gave a yawn—opening and closing his mouth a couple of time—and then stretched again. It seemed like last night the whole of Paris had wanted to get off, and had decided to use him as their fuck-toy. He hated the whole concept, but felt stupid for thinking about it. It'd been like that for years now, it really didn't do to keep on beating himself up about it. Besides, Sirius had promised to take him away—and he knew Sirius. Sirius was a man of his word.

Gnawing at his lip he went over to his wardrobe, picking out a black pair of jeans—it was rather cold outside, even though it was summer. He tucked his grey shirt down his pants and took a green jumper instead of a jacket.

When he left his room, the whole house was quiet—after all his aunt and he were the only ones there during the day. He knew his aunt was probably having breakfast and counting her earnings, up on the fourth floor. Passing an old guy who was scrubbing the floor, he went down a set of stairs. He always preferred leaving through the back exit, instead of using the front doors—at least that way he could pretend he didn't work in a whorehouse.

Tucking his hands deep into his pockets—it was even colder than he'd originally anticipated—he started his walk towards the centre of town, where no one knew him as Ruby but as Remus, who worked in the subs and read a lot of books. He'd always loved the city because leading a double life there was so easy. During the day he could be who he was on the inside, and at night he was what everyone else wanted him to be. That made it easier—to breathe and get on, just one day more.

When he reached the hotel Sirius was staying at, the latter was waiting outside—a thin cigarette dangling between his lips. He was wearing his black vest and fluffy red mittens, with navy blue jeans—he waved cheerily with one of the mittens, and Remus smiled, before crossing the street.

"Moony!" Sirius had spotted the brunette long ago, but he was too cold to move properly—why the hell was it so bloody freezing? It was summer, yet he felt like getting out his fuzzy wintercoat and wearing terminal underwear.

"Hey," Remus came to a stop in front of his friend, shivering slightly—Sirius eyed him once over, taking a drag from his cigarette—which was a bit hard with the mittens—keeping it between his rosy lips.

"You must be cold, Moony," Sirius carefully picked Remus' hands from his pockets, wrapping them in his own and folding them into his jacket, pressing them comfortably into his sides—he felt Remus grasp his waistcoat, his fingers brushing over his hip, "better?"

"Yeah," Remus huffed—his breath coming out in little puffs, "thank you."

"Maybe it's better if we go up to the hotel room," Sirius said, compassionate to Remus' feelings, "I would like ice-cream though," he added with a pout.

"Ice-cream? Siri," Remus giggled and the raven pulled him closer, allowing him to bury his head in the crock of Sirius' neck, "it's possibly freezing," he smiled up, hooking his fingers in Sirius' shirt. Then he continued: "there's a good parlour nearby."

"But you're cold," Sirius murmured, hugging Remus closer to his own body—feeling the nimble nails weave through the fabric of the waistcoat and shirt.

"We'll go up after we've gotten you ice-cream."

"You sure?" He discarded his cigarette, dropping it on the pavement and pulled back enough so he could see Remus' face.

The brunette was still smiling, and gave a clear nod. Then he shivered, and Sirius rolled his eyes, kissing his forehead.

"I have a better idea," he declared, petting the boy's cheek with his fluffy thumb—the palm of his hand pressing against his cheekbone, and Remus giggled at the feeling of the red fabric sliding against his skin, "we go up and order ice-cream using room-service."

"Okay," Remus nodded, biting his lip, "sounds good."

"Great! Come with me Moony!" Sirius did a happy dance and pulled away from his friend completely, dragging him into the hotel.

The man in the lobby bowed for them, but Sirius was too busy grinning to notice as they headed towards the elevator. It wasn't until the thing made a jingle sound, and the iron doors closed, that Sirius noticed his hand was still entwined with Remus'—he hadn't felt that warm tingle, because of his thick mittens. He had felt it when Remus' hands brushed his sides though, and it made him feel giddy, but bad at the same time. Because friends aren't supposed to make you feel giddy!

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"Pff, much better," Sirius took off his jacket and put it over the back of a chair, "though it's a bit too hot, I suppose—mum always leaves the heating on."

Taking off his mittens one by one he flopped down on the couch, and patted the empty space next to him. Remus inspected the suite—it was huge, and apparently he was only seeing the living room. Blacks liked it big—so much was sure.

"You can take off your sweater if you want," Sirius offered, tucking one leg under his body, "come on, sit—what kind of ice-cream do you want?"

"Oh no," Remus peeled off his jumper over his head before sitting next to Sirius—folding the green fabric in his lap, "I don't want..."

"Moony, either you willingly choose your favourite sort of ice-cream, or I choose and make you eat it," even though it wasn't a threat, Remus knew better than to take those words lightly—nonetheless he rolled his eyes and leaned his neck against the headrest.

"You're going to force-feed me ice-cream?" He queried, tipping up his eyebrows, and Sirius grinned.

"That is the plan Moony," Sirius took the phone, and winked, "so... you like chocolate with caramel, right?" Remus smiled and then nodded against his will—he couldn't help but be happy at realising that Sirius really knew him well, "room-service?" Sirius bit his lip, staring up at the ceiling, "erm... je desiré... icecream?" He tried, and Remus chuckled, "chocolat et caramel et... vanille..." the brunette could hear a man answer with a thick French accent and Sirius paused, "non, non... tout... erm... chambre... un seize sept..."

By the time he hung up the phone Remus was biting his lip to keep himself from laughing too hard, and Sirius send a playful glare his way.

"Wauw Padfoot, I had no idea you spoke French," Remus teased and Sirius stuck out his tongue childishly.

"Well I can't be perfect at everything I do Remmi," he tugged the boy closer, nuzzling him behind his ear as he wrapped an arm around his shoulder, "I'm really happy you're here Moony—I always miss you during the holidays. How do you feel?"

"I'm fine," Remus murmured, flattering his head against Sirius' shoulder, closing his eyes at the feeling, "just tired—there were so many guys last night, I didn't even knew they came in that many sizes, seriously, this one guy..." he paused abruptly and his eyes shot open, linking with Sirius' in guilt and shame, "'m sorry I..."

"Oh please, crudeness is not a problem with me," Sirius' grin turned cheeky, "you can tell me anything you want Moony—you know I won't judge you because of it."

"I know but I... it's weird because I'm used to telling you everything—and now you're here and it's like there're things I shouldn't say."

"Remmi I get that it's hard for you," Sirius hugged him closer, nuzzling him above his ear, "but I'm here now—I know, it's too late to change that—and I'm glad that I know and I want to help. So don't try to ban it out your life like you tried to do with your lycanthropy at first. It happened and it's not going to go away—it will always have been there, so talk to me about it. You can."

"I just don't want you to think I like working there," Remus muttered.

"Laughing about it or talking about it doesn't mean you like it—it simply means that you acknowledge that it happened," Sirius said matter-of-factly, "now you were talking about different penis sizes and I have to say that I was quite intrigued."

At this Remus chuckled, and he thankfully wrapped his arms around Sirius' hips, flattering his head against his shoulder again.

"Well, all I meant was that if it's possible to sprain your jaw—I did and it's his fault. Good tipper though."

Sirius' chest shook in silent laughter and he kissed Remus' head—at least he knew that although Remus was hurt, he wasn't so terribly messed up that he locked the world away. If he could joke about this, it meant he had accepted it, and that perhaps he would be able to move on without it leaving an all too big mark.

"Was he pretty?" The question was asked before Sirius could stop himself—no matter the fact that he really wanted to be there for his friend, he couldn't help feeling a sting of jealousy. Because everyone was touching Remus but him.

"Who?" Remus questioned, voice a bit muffled by Sirius' waistcoat.

"The guy with the huge dick," Sirius mumbled, and he felt Remus tense for just a second—then he flattered closer against Sirius' chest and his arms tightened around his hips.

"No."

"What was wrong with him?" Sirius pressed—if he knew what type of guys Remus liked than maybe... "Didn't you like his hair—or maybe the way he was build? Why was he not your type?"

"He was the type that paid me to suck him off," Remus quirked his eyebrows and tried to look up at Sirius—the boy was resolutely looking the other way, "I guess that kinda put me off."

"Do you like... ever like them?" Sirius glanced at the brunette from the corner of his eye, and saw him frown in thought.

"No," he then said determinately—suddenly Sirius felt the boy's hand against his cheek, and he was turned to look his friend straight in the face, "I never like them—they can't turn me on. They're not good enough. They don't make me feel."

Sirius wanted to tell Remus he could do that—he could make the brunette feel, and feel good too—he knew he could make him moan and purr and huff and... yes. He knew he could love the brunette in any way he wished, and he would tell him... but then there was a knock on the door, and Remus turned to it, their eye-contact broken.

A young girl pushed the door to the room open, dragging a trolley in behind her. Sirius smiled at her as she babbled something in fast French—placing silver bowls with ice-cream and fancy spoons on the sidetable.

They ate ice-cream and talked all day—in the end Sirius figured that nothing mattered, because Remus was right there with him and it was good.

AN: I want at least fifteen reviews for this –tries to look stern- -fails- -whimpers- fine. Ten then. But seriously, I hope this isn't getting to be a drag for you guys, so do review. Ten and I'll update! Let me know your thoughts.