Caleb is a Muggle, so they take a cab back to his flat. It's a nice studio in a nice part of London, and Remus half-listens as Caleb explains what he does for work. Something in accounting, it sounds like, for a company that sells medical equipment to doctor's offices.
The Helios Oil has left Remus strung-out and emptier than he was before. He goes through the motions of kissing and undressing in a daze, and eventually finds himself naked on Caleb's bed.
"You said you like it rough," says Caleb hesitantly, "but I don't want to, like—hurt you, hurt you."
"That's fine." Remus's voice is hoarse and tired. "Just do whatever you want. I don't care."
"Do you want a word?" asks Caleb. "To let me know if it's too much?"
Remus shakes his head. "I'll be fine."
Caleb gives him another uncertain look, and then shrugs and pulls his shirt off. He's fit and handsome, with broad shoulders and curly reddish hair covering his chest. He crawls on top of Remus and sucks a hickey onto the base of his neck. Remus's eyelids flutter when Caleb reaches down and pinches his left nipple between his fingernails. Caleb chuckles softly.
"You like that, huh?" he murmurs. "You're cute."
The praise sits with Remus uncomfortably. He doesn't deserve to be treated gently and told that he's cute; he deserves anger, and force, and aggression. He deserves disgust. Hatred. He deserves Snape.
Caleb's brow furrows as he runs a hand down Remus's leg. His index finger traces over the scars. "Do you—did you do this? To yourself?"
Remus keeps his face neutral. "Some of them."
"Why?"
He seems genuinely confused, as if he can't tell what a monster Remus is.
"I dunno," he says shortly. "It's not important. I'm fine. Can you just keep touching me?"
Caleb nods slowly, still looking concerned. "Alright."
He ends up taking Remus on his side, spooning him as he pounds into him from the back, reaching a hand between his legs to jerk him off. He keeps his other arm wrapped around Remus's chest, pinning them together as their bodies move in unison. His lips touch the puckered scar on Remus's shoulder—the one from Greyback. Remus's stomach lurches. Only Sirius has ever put his mouth there; he'd kiss it and lick it and suck gently at the pinched, white ridges, kiss it like it was nothing but just another part of Remus to be owned and claimed.
Suddenly, Remus is wild with need.
"Please," he gasps to Caleb, "bite me."
His rhythm slows. "Here?"
His teeth close uncertainly around the scar. Remus nods frantically.
"Yes, yes—right there. As hard as you can. Please."
Caleb bites down with surprising force. A dark, thrilling jolt strikes through Remus, and he arches his back and comes so forcefully that his visions whites out.
Remus doesn't know where his desires originated. He suspects it has something to do with his long and fraught relationship with pain.
Since he was five years old, Remus has had no power over the bone-breaking agony of his transformations, nor the days of weakness and aching that followed. As an adult, there's something liberating about taking control of the pain, conquering it by succumbing to it in the heat of passion, begging for more, more, more.
Having Sirius inflict pain on him was different than what Remus did to himself—the careful scars on his arms and legs were acts of punishment, a manifestation of the self-loathing that boiled over the edges and demanded an outlet. Sex with Sirius was never about that.
Remus doesn't know what the sex he's having now is about. Maybe it's not about anything at all.
Either that, or everything.
After Caleb finishes, Remus takes a shower alone. A rush of lightheadedness overcomes him, and he sways, bracing himself against the wall. It occurs to him that he hasn't eaten a real meal since before he was arrested. How many days has it been? Counting back only makes his head hurt more, so he abandons the task and shampoos his hair instead. When he catches his reflection in the bathroom mirror, he's taken aback—the Helios Oil left a small golden ring around his irises. It gives him the look of a rabid owl.
"You feel okay?" asks Caleb when he returns to the bedroom, wrapped in a towel.
Remus nods. "Yeah. Thanks."
He accepts the glass of water Caleb hands him and takes an obligatory sip.
"Looks like someone gave you quite the thrashing," says Caleb. He gestures to Remus's arse. "You sure it didn't hurt too bad when I…you know?"
"It was fine. It was good." Remus sets the glass on the nightstand. "I should get going."
"Oh." Caleb's face falls slightly. "Sure you don't want to stay over? I make great pancakes."
Something twists in Remus's chest. "That's alright. But thank you. This was—nice."
He dresses quickly and gives Caleb a small wave before ducking out the door.
Even though Remus doesn't have any more cash, and he can't return to the flat for fear of being ambushed by Lyall, it doesn't take him long to get his hands on more drugs. People at the Muggle clubs are willing to share once they get trashed and friendly enough, and Remus smokes, snorts, and shoots up with unbridled vigor.
He flies, crashes, and flies again.
He runs through traffic, gets in fistfights, offers his body up to be ravished and used.
He wakes up in train cars on the Underground, in beds with strangers, in alleyways next to dumpsters.
Nothing he takes makes him see Sirius. Nothing even makes him hear his voice.
"Remus? Remus!"
Someone is snapping their fingers in his face. Remus opens his eyes blearily.
He's huddled against a brick building, sweater pulled around his head like a shawl. The air is sharp with the promise of snow, and Mary Macdonald is towering above him, blocking out the sun as she scowls down at Remus's sunken form.
"What the fuck happened to you?"
"How'd you find me?" Remus mutters groggily.
"With much difficulty," she says crossly. "I've been trying to get a hold of you for days now."
He blinks. "Days? What—what day is it?"
She raises an eyebrow. "November 9th."
"November 9th." He's been flying off the rails for a week, then? Remus feels himself sobering up by the second. "But that means—Mary! Mary, the full moon is in two days!"
"Yup. Now get up. I'm taking you to my place."
Remus starts to protest, but Mary isn't interested. When he doesn't move, she simply reaches down, hauls Remus into her arms, and turns on her heel to Disapparate them both.