Shades of Gray

(the THIRD AND FINAL companion to "No Better Mistake" and "Finding Home")

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, or any other related characters from the world of Harry Potter. I also don't own the setting, plot lines, relationships, etc. ANYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH HARRY POTTER BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING, not me.

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10

Remus was already on his feet when he heard the small pop in the hallway, walking in to meet Sirius so fast they nearly collided. Although he was in the process of removing his coat, Sirius grabbed the shorter boy by the arm, catching him right before his socked feet sent him slipping on the hard wood floors, but Remus regained his balance quickly, opening his mouth immediately to speak.

"Where have you been?" he asked. He wasn't angry – only worried, which was evident by the look in his eyes. Sirius, however, was just as surprised to see him there.

"I thought you were out," he said breathlessly, "your parents—"

"Yeah, I was, Sirius," Remus responded, still looking confused, "but I came back when you said you'd be off…"

"Moony," Sirius face relaxed into his usual smile, and he moved slightly to pull a hanger from the coat closet, shoving his jacket in. "I was just at James and Lily's place… I thought you wouldn't be home until later."

"Oh…" Remus looked, for a second, still anxious, but then the look faded from his face, and he sighed, averting his gaze. "Right. I'm sorry," he smiled tiredly, turning back to Sirius, "It's just been—"

"Long day?" asked Sirius sympathetically, as Remus nodded, he opened his arms in a familiar gesture, pulling Remus into them. It had been a long day… It was almost like the summer with how frequently Matt came in to visit, and though Remus tried every time to act like the confident, clever man he had been portrayed as, it was taking a lot out of him. Matt was coming on so strong, especially now that he knew for certain Remus had read at least some of the things he'd written about him, and it was becoming harder and harder to ignore him. Most times, Remus just wanted to throw him out of the store altogether, but then he remembered the sure-of-himself Remus – the one who never would be affected by someone making advances on him – and he stopped, consenting to allow Matt to, once again, flirt. Unlike a few months ago, they rarely talked about any of Remus' friends (particularly Sirius), mostly because, every time he tried to bring it up, he was interrupted; by a question about a novel they'd both read, an opinion on the day… anything Matt could come up with to change the subject. Remus felt himself wishing that he'd never been intrigued by Matt's thoughts, because he was certainly feeling the pressure to be what he kept telling himself was possible.

Wordlessly, he lifted his head upward from Sirius' chest to kiss him; Sirius' hands brushing the hair on both sides of his head and beginning to trace the favorite parts of his skin: the scar on his cheek, the line of his jaw, his sharp, protruding collarbones, one of which ended in a slight bump. Remus was grasping Sirius' tie, pulling him closer, and he could feel a few of Sirius' dark hairs just beginning to fall down onto his own face, tickling. It was a relief so sink into something so genuine, after a day of pretending… but there was something strange—and Remus drew apart, looking, once again, confused.

"Did you just smoke?" he asked sounding puzzled.

Sirius looked like he was trying to remember, "yeah… I guess I did… A little while ago. Why? Do I taste bad?" he teased, still holding Remus in close.

"No…" and he didn't, because was used to (and had grown fond of) the taste now. It was what made Sirius' kiss, and smell, so distinctly Sirius… a combination of cigarettes, cologne, and soap… and although Sirius didn't smoke nearly as often as he used to, it still was not uncommon for him to do so. And yet Remus could not put a finger on what was making him feel so uneasy. What was so different about the kiss this time?

"Hey, how about we go out somewhere tonight?" asked Sirius now, still grinning. "I really don't feel like making anything to eat."

"Okay." As usual, Sirius' smile, and enthusiasm, were contagious, and, to be honest, Remus didn't feel that much like staying in himself, although he still did feel a little odd… he just couldn't place why. He made his way up the stairs, head still swimming, but aiming to grab a few things. Hadn't they just done a complete overhaul of this place a few weeks ago? Why was it a mess again? He rummaged around in his things, searching for what he had thrown carelessly on the floor after he'd come home before. He pulled his sweatshirt from off the floor (it had somehow been buried under a pile of clean laundry); now… where was his wallet…?

He spotted it, across the room, but as he reached out his hand to grab it, it hit him. Suddenly, he realized exactly what was strange about Sirius downstairs, because sitting next to his wallet, left as they'd both been out that day, was a half-empty packet of cigarettes; the same, and only brand that Sirius smoked.

Remus' hand shook as he picked it up. It was rather crumpled – he'd had this pack for a number of days now, since he smoked so infrequently. But it was there; there, along with Sirius' lighter (in public, lighting up with a wandtip just wouldn't do), sitting on their dresser, not with Sirius, and not being smoked at Lily and James' house. That was the reason why Remus had felt so strange… because Sirius' taste of cigarette smoke had not been from his own brand…

"Moony?" Sirius called from downstairs, and Remus dropped the packet as if it had burned him.

"Coming," he called back, shocked at how normal his voice sounded, and then, brain buzzing, he made his way slowly back down.

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He could barely focus on reality as they both slid into their seats, across from one another in the dim restaurant. He smiled at the waitress as she took the orders for the drinks, nodded as Sirius began to talk about his day, but only one thought was on his mind… one, all-consuming, horrible, disgusting thought…

Was Sirius seeing someone else?

He'd had the thought, the same monster of an idea before: the morning he'd heard Sirius downstairs, talking to James, while they both thought him asleep. But then, he had squashed it back down as soon as it had risen, and convinced himself of otherwise. He'd been near-asleep, after all, and surely, James wouldn't lie to him… but now the memory was becoming clearer in Remus' mind, almost as if coming out from a fog. Then, he had rationalized that they could have been speaking about anything… "You won't tell him, will you…?" But nothing had happened after that; as Remus had been shamefully hoping it would, childishly holding out hope that Sirius was planning a nice surprise, and not simply relaying his discretions to James. But now, though he desperately wanted to squash the memory, it seemed that other things were strange as well; things he hadn't realized were at all odd until now. Why was Sirius so involved with Lily and James' wedding… or why was he saying he was? Why had it seemed normal for him to leave on Saturday or Sunday afternoons, claiming he was helping them with something? Suddenly, it all seemed out of place, like a black and white photograph suddenly thrust into color. What did James, or anyone else, know that Remus didn't? What were they hiding?

And then tonight – it was true that Remus hadn't been specific about when he would be home, and it wouldn't have surprised him at all if Sirius had gone to their friends' house… but why had he lied about what he'd done there? Had there been someone else there with Lily and James, someone who smoked a different brand of cigarettes, someone that Sirius had forgotten to mention he bummed off of…?

"Remus?"

Sirius' voice floated to Remus like he was underwater, muted, and distorted. "Hmm?" Remus tried to look interested.

"Are you all right?" Sirius was smiling – he was casual – but Remus felt his own expression remain tight, and forced. Sirius had taken off most of his work clothes at the house, and his shirt, unbuttoned somewhat, revealed just the tiniest bit of black ink, on the side of his chest. The huge, sprawling design that Sirius adored… that was permanent. This—this relationship—was permanent. They had been through too much together. Sirius wouldn't lie to him… anymore. He couldn't.

"I'm fine," said Remus, reaching to take Sirius' hand under the table, out of sight from prying eyes. "Honest."

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I don't know what comments to make... tearrrr.