Pride
"This fate of ours is still unknown....I've seen the other side, the one world beyond our dog pride," ~ Machinae Supremacy, "Blind Dog Pride"
Sirius Black has never been acquainted with shame. From the time he is born, perfect and screaming, as the Black heir, he knows only pride. Even before he can grasp the concept of being nobility, he is sure of himself, always, and no matter what he has done it is not a mistake. When he meets his friends, his stomach does not twist in knots, he does not stutter, and he certainly does not curl quietly into a corner like - wossname? - Remus Lupin. He sticks his right hand out, displaying the gaudy ring that marks him as one of the ridiculously wealthy, and shakes firmly with James Potter. He is not ashamed when he admits all his family have been Slytherin, when Remus turns out to be more man than all of them put together, or when he is forced to knock about naked after a night spent as Padfoot. In fact, there are times when his friends won't look him in the eye and he wonders what is wrong with proclaiming himself the best at whatever they are doing. He is confused when Remus tells him that pride is one of the seven deadly sins.
Unbelievably, Sirius Black actually grows up a bit as he gets older. Yes, he is still a bit of a bastard at times, but it is mostly a joke and his friends double over laughing when he prances about in the things his mother sends him and talks loftily of trips to palaces in foreign countries. He is alternately dignified and rowdy and James, unsure of himself at times but nowhere near as painfully shy as Remus or uncaring as Peter, picks up on it right away. He is seen as the leader of the pack, but he is only a patchwork quilt of them all: Sirius's swagger and mischief, Remus's sophistication and mystique. He fails to learn from Peter when he ought to keep his mouth shut. Unfortunately, this is the one trait that could have gotten him Lily Evans. Despite the fact that he is not one person at all but a potion made from bits of each of them, James Potter is Sirius's best friend, and of that he is proud.
In seventh year, Sirius gains a new source of pride. He may cause a bit of a ruckus from time to time, but he is not stupid and certainly not blind. Moony - yes, flushing, disapproving, frowning little Moony, who is really not so little anymore - is eyeing him. Or rather, attempting not to eye him. From the moment he realizes it at breakfast one morning when Remus drops his Astronomy homework into a spot of jam, he refuses to go in circles with him about it. He is proud of his initiative when he simply climbs into Remus's bed that night. He does not make awkward attempts to have even more awkward conversations about why they are doing whatever it is they are actually doing. Fucking, his mind supplies, but that is not quite it at all. He doesn't like the uncertainty of it; it is a little too close to shame for his tastes. He feels the overwhelming need to counteract it.
It is Christmas break when he kisses James. It is not the first time it has happened (for Firewhiskey seems to bring out the affection in both of them) but it is the first time Sirius has tried to take it anyplace other than a laugh and a story later on, when their heads are aching at the thought. Things with James are clear-cut: they love each other because they are best mates. James is straight. But during the holiday, he fucks Sirius anyway, and yes, Sirius knows that it is the right word for their actions. He doesn't even feel humiliated with James above him, shoving and biting and groaning. In fact, he is proud of himself for the pleasure he can give his best friend. He is less proud when he realizes he misses the soft, breathy little noises that Remus always makes beneath him, as if he would like to beg but is too ashamed. It is at this point that he learns (better late than never, eh?) that messing about with James and…whatever he is doing with Remus….are not the same thing at all. He knows that, after break, he will want Remus to beg, he will make him, and that will mean something. Maybe that will stop his stomach turning upside down every time he thinks about it.
He is expecting Remus when his bed curtains are moved four nights after a full moon. He is proud of himself for not acting like a lovesick puppy (oh, the irony) around him. He is anticipating few words and many, many touches and noises, and all of this is going to mean something to him, and suddenly he is more frightened than he has ever been, even more frightened than when he finally plucked up the courage to leave home. He carefully opens one eye. It is James. A mixture of disappointment and relief covers him but then he is pressed against the headboard and then James is in him in him in him and as good as it is, it is wrong. He fights the urge to tell him to stop or to call out for Remus, because these are bad ideas. So he presses his forehead to the cool wood and lets it happen, trying to battle the squirming in his belly that is over-riding the pleasure, telling him that he is despicable. He is confused and, for the first time, ashamed. When the word 'perfect,' passes James's lips, all he can see and hear and imagine is Remus doing this to him (a totally new and not unpleasant thought), and that, coupled with James's hand on him, tight and rough and desperate, is enough to send him into a downward spiral that is both ecstasy and despair. If he had his wits about him, he would've found that too eloquent for his own good, but as it is, he is too exhausted to care. There is no pride, this time, in making James whine like a girl as he comes.
James kisses him and Sirius returns it warily. There is something almost dangerous in Prongs's eyes tonight, and Sirius thinks that he must know that something is up. That is horrible and wonderful at once and he mutters, "I love you." James nods and his eyes flick sideways.
"Lily," he says flatly.
"Remus," Sirius replies, and then James is patting him on the back and telling him he knew all along that this would happen, that he'd seen it for years. James is proud of himself for his foresight. Sirius is still ashamed. He is, however, eternally grateful that he and James will not need to have some sort of heart-to-heart with too many words and a heavy dose of saccharine sweetness. The questions and answers go unspoken and he compares this to Remus, who would need four hours of calmly shooting down everything he said, and there would be crying and a desperate need for things to make sense. But that was Remus, and that, above all, was what he wanted. His sense of pride begins to return as he realizes he has Remus, right where he wants him. He will tell him, the next day even, and he will not have to feel that fucking stupid twitch in the back of his mind that is shame.
The next day, Remus is silent at breakfast. At lunch. In the common room. If there is something Sirius is as unfamiliar with as shame, it is worry. He bites at his nails and Peter nearly has a seizure. Sirius has declared nail-biting extremely unsophisticated for the span of their years together. He may have abandoned his family's home and morals, but the name of Black still lingers along with the manners and habits that come included. He doesn't care. He gnaws until they bleed and then it is bedtime and he waits, he waits and listens and there is no sound of feet across the floor, but there is also no cute little Moony-snore. Finally, he bounds from his bed, knee-first into his school trunk. He hops about for a moment, silently swearing, and then pauses at Remus's bed.
"Moony," and then thinks that is not right. "Remus," he corrects, and waits for an answer. There is none. "Oh, well, you know I'm coming in anyway," he says, with a laugh that threatens to choke him.
"Don't." Sirius falters. He is close to blurting out something stupid like, "I wish you could have my babies," or, more descriptively, "When I'm around you, I feel as if small mammals were eating my internal organs." Of course, that would be counter-productive. Moony would stick his head out and, completely straight-faced, say something like, "My presence is like weasels devouring your spleen?" And then they would be entirely off-topic, and Sirius has never been all too good at keeping a conversation on one track anyway.
"I'm coming in anyway," he repeats, and parting the crimson hangings is familiar. Seeing Remus curled into a single corner, in a surprisingly compact bundle of body and blanket, is less familiar. He lays down anyway, tugging lightly at the blanket to cover up his freezing torso. "I have something to tell you," he says conspiratorially. He wonders if someone should write all of this down for posterity. It's much more interesting than all that Shakespeare nonsense that Remus is always going on about.
"You don't have to." The voice is quiet and Sirius thinks that maybe it is shaking. "Could you just tell James to do a Silencing Charm next time? Hearing it was a little much." The bottom of the world falls out from beneath him. He has changed his mind; perhaps he is stupid. Bugger all. This is not supposed to happen. Especially not to Sirius Black.
"That wasn't…over the holidays….Remus, listen to me!" He has somehow managed to flip onto his stomach and pull a pillow over his head. It's not like him to turn down a conversation. Even this one.
"Yes, yes, I understand. You were…I don't know, testing yourself out on me. Decided you liked blokes, and now you and James and Lily are going to be one big dysfunctional family. How lovely. I'm going to sleep." The voice is definitely shaking. Sirius wonders if he is crying and balks when he realizes that would make two of them."Bollocks. That's not it at all. If you would just -,"
"I don't want to listen, Sirius. Besides, isn't explaining yourself beneath you? I was what you wanted for a while and you took it. Move along. Time waits for no Black."
Sirius fights the opposing urges to bash his head in or drag him up and snog him until he's forgotten all about James bloody Potter. Eventually, he does neither. He throws his hands up, defeated. "Fine, Moony. Just go right ahead thinking you know everything about everyone and don't even stop to wonder if maybe I was here to tell you that I'm absolutely mad for you." Someone snorts loudly , but he doesn't care about not waking them up anymore. He is clambering out of the bed and across the room, delivering a solid kick to his trunk. He doesn't want to get back into his own bed. It smells like James and that will just make things worse. His pride wants to blame Prongs right now, but the side of himself that is being eaten away by shame is telling him that it will never be anyone's fault but his. He drops unceremoniously to the floor and bangs his head against the mattress. Sirius Black, who is good at everything, is absolutely terrible at love. He should've known there was a catch.
There is a sound of someone tossing about in bed. He is genuinely surprised when Remus is the one slipping, soft and deft and all those other words that are usually reserved for girls, onto the floor and stepping towards him. He sits so suddenly that it is like falling, but he makes no noise and Sirius thinks that if this is what comes of being a werewolf, being quiet and perfect and so dangerously calm, it must not be so terrible a thing. Remus is looking at him. He is not crying. Sirius is.
"Look, it's completely believable that you're absolutely mad. But don't try to confuse me. My mind is all I've got." His mouth is smiling. His eyes are not. "I'm fine with you and James, really." It's a lie. But a good one. There is another snort. James must be awake. Sirius wants to throttle him for finding this funny.
"There is no me and James. James and me? James and I? I dunno, the English language deserted me. We just… fucked." Well, that was eloquent.
"So did we," Remus counters, and his eyes are daring him to disagree. "Isn't that right? Or am I making that up? Maybe I'm the one that's mad." Sirius has rarely seen him like this. There is something in his eyes that could be anger or hurt and even though he has reason to fear the wrath of Remus Lupin, he would honestly rather be hexed six ways from Sunday than have to watch Remus cry.
"No, it's not right. Are you really going to make me explain this? I'm pants at making speeches, you know that." This is not true. He is excellent at parading about in circles, proclaiming his own greatness. He is, however, pants at telling Remus Lupin that he's in love with him. Which is unfortunate, as everyone already knows how great he is, and Remus has no idea that he has a best mate that would like nothing more than to spend forever trying his hardest not to screw things up between them.
"I'm sure you can put a few sentences together. I won't even correct your grammar." This is a startling promise. Grammar and Remus go hand in hand like...well, there's really nothing to even compare to that. He decides he will give it a shot.
"Um. Being with you...was different than being with a bird."
"Well, that's not surprising. Y'know, different bits and all. Arse-buggery." Remus is mocking him. Sirius thinks this might be a good sign.
"No, I meant...I didn't know if it was because we were mates or...and then, with James, it still wasn't the same...and the weasel, you know, I mean, shame -"
"You're not making any sense you know." He's laughing now. And he means it, with his eyes. Even his scars seem happier, which makes no sense at all, but Sirius supposes that is what happens when you are in love.
"I'm in love with you." It tumbles out before he can stop it, and maybe that is for the best. Remus isn't laughing anymore. Even James is perfectly still. He worries for a moment that he might have gone suddenly and completely deaf.
"That's not funny, Padfoot. Try again."
James stick his disheveled head out into the dormitory. "He called me Remus twelve times over the break. While we...y'know." He makes awkward hand motions that are partially hidden by the drapery around him. Sirius blushes. James hadn't mentioned that.
Everything is quiet again. James goes back to minding his own business (or rather, he puts his head back inside his curtains and continues to listen). Peter is rolling over - squeeeeeak. And then Remus drops his head into his hands and this, Sirius thinks, is the moment where it means something. It's not as scary as he thought it might be. Remus is laughing and crying all at once and shaking his head, his fingers threaded through tawny hair. This isn't how he pictured things, either.
"Moony. Moony, stop or I'm going to cry again. I swear, Moony, this is not funny, shut up. REMUS!" Peter falls out of bed and James is laughing again and everyone is laughing at him and he feels ashamed. Disgruntled, he stands and climbs into bed, pulling the comforter over his head and wishing for the life of him that he was better at talking. There is someone crawling in behind him. It is too warm to be James. He pulls the covers even further around him.
"If you're going to laugh at me again, you can go away now," he mumbles from beneath the layers of fabric.
"Sirius Orion Black," Remus's voice says, and Sirius is wincing at the formality, "I must be absolutely barking, because I'm going to spend the rest of my life blushing and hiding and trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with you. The wizarding world will worship me as a martyr, but at least I will never be bored."
Oh. Well then. He wriggles about in the covers to find an opening until he can get his mouth against Moony's properly and it is different, not because it finally means something, but because he knows it has been meaning everything all along. Remus's mouth is hot and open and he darts his tongue in to taste, but then James is yelling at them to go to sleep and have a go at each other when everyone in the room isn't awake. Remus pulls the covers over himself and buries his face in the pillow, one arm draped across Sirius's chest. Sirius wonders how he managed to end up with friends that understand things so much better than him. He feels triumphant, though, for a job thoroughly (if not well) done. Looking down at the boy pressed against him, he has never been more proud.
A/N: So, that is that. I don't like it as much as the first bit because I am very much a Remus in personality and being Sirius is ridiculously difficult. I tried to make it funnier in light of the point of view it was coming from. A happy ending coming from me! *shock* Hopefully, it didn't come off too sappy. And also, hopefully less of you will want to punch Sirius in the face! Thank you to all my lovely reviewers who assured me that this little follow-up would be welcome.