So," said Remus, sipping at his Amaretto and Coke, "what are your thoughts on Christmas jumpers?"
Sirius blinked, and drank some more wine. "I think they are an atrocity, but a necessary one. Like having armed forces in this century, or Latin."
Remus smiled. "That sounds about right. I love Christmas jumpers, the uglier the better. At the school I used to teach at, the German teacher Goldstein – his grandparents fled the Nazis and came here, and whenever he was drunk he sang "She'll Be Coming Round the Mountain", excellent bloke – insisted on having Hannukah jumpers as well. One of the children misinterpreted the belief behind menorahs and came in with lit candles on his shoulders, so then all festive jumpers were banned. Is there a similar situation here?"
Sirius looked at Remus's lips, and his throat, flushed in the heat from the fire. "We're allowed to wear them, but only the last week of term. Dumbledore goes pretty big actually and decorates the entire school. There will be mistletoe in the staff room. Snape will sit near it and glare at anyone who looks happy, and James will fret about how to attempt to kiss Lily, and then we'll go to the pub and sing Silent Night and I'll cry. It's a classic night out," and Remus laughed.
"Why doesn't James just try – asking her out for a drink? Rather than these ridiculous plans? I mean, the big Slytherin-Gryffindor match is next week, and the play's not until January, and although we won the battle of the first inspection we may not win the war, what with this new curriculum. I mean, asking people out for drinks tends to suggest a romantic interest," and he seemed to realise what he had said, and Sirius was rewarded with the sight of Remus smirking as if he'd been smooth, but also blushing.
"You've got dimples," he said, in an accusing voice. "Remus, come on, you can't have tattoos and dimples, that's just unfair."
Remus laughed again, and Sirius tried not to smile at the sound. "Yeah," Remus said, seriously, "but you've got that hair and your voice is ridiculous, and actually I've been wondering what your skin tastes like – "
Sirius knocked over his empty wine glass as his heart or stomach or both leapt in between his collarbones. "I – God,Remus, you can't say things like that and then just sit there in your ugly jumper with your six o'clock shadow and expect me not to react. But I do want to say, though, that you're – well. I've outgrown one night stands, I think. I think I outgrew them as soon as I saw you, and I'm afraid that if I go home with you then I'll never want to leave and James can't work the floor mop – "
Remus smiled at him, and put a hand on his knee. Sirius forced himself not to move closer, to move until Remus's hand was sliding up his thigh. "Well, maybe we should – take things slow?" he asked, leaning in a little closer until Sirius could count every single one of his long eyelashes. Sirius shifted in his seat and tried to sit as if he wasn't half-hard already.
"You mean," Sirius asked, "slow like, we wait a while before we do anything physical, or slow like you know how much I like getting fucked at varying paces?"
Remus tightened his grip on his knee. Sirius closed his eyes, offered up a quick please to the universe, and kissed him. "Christ", he managed to whisper, against Remus's lips, which were slightly chapped but soft, and Remus smiled and bit his lip. Sirius shifted in his seat again, achingly aware of how hard he was in his trousers, and just as he went to tangle his fingers in Remus's hair, Remus drew back.
They were both breathing heavily, and Sirius was secretly pleased to see that Remus had two spots of colour high on his cheeks. "Blimey," he said, and smirked at Remus until he couldn't stop himself and smiled properly.
"I think we should take it slowly as in, the traditional meaning of the term," he said to Remus. "Because I tend to rush headlong into things and then everything goes wrong and I'm too wrapped up to notice, really. And you're honestly one of the nicest blokes I've ever met, and a very good kisser, and god your arse is amazing – "
Remus grinned at him. "You're acting like I'm some amazing catch – "
"Believe me," Sirius told him. "The only thing my father ever did with me as a child was hunt or fish; I know a catch when I see one," and Remus looked as if he wasn't sure whether to frown or smile. He appeared to try both.
"Tell me about your childhood," said Sirius. "Wait no, I'm going to get us another drink, and then you can tell me about when you were a lanky sixth former kissing other lanky sixth formers behind the bike sheds, and all that nonsense," and he went off. Remus watched him go, and took a deep breath, and flexed his fingers.
When Sirius returned with the drinks, Remus looked calmer. He'd attempted to smooth his curly hair into a neater look, and he had re-folded the cuffs on the sleeves of his jumper. Sirius grinned, and passed him his drink.
"Okay, now that we have got the intense sexual tension out of the way, we can talk," he said, and downed half his glass of wine in one.
"Right," Remus said, sipping his drink. "Okay, my childhood. I'm from Pontefract, which I had to learn to say the southern way when I moved away. It's in Yorkshire. There's a castle and they make cakes. My education was fairly standard, I was bright, buried my head in books, got teased a bit. Got teased for liking David Bowie as well, but kept my head down, got out. I went to Sheffield for university," and he took a long sip of his drink. "Had a breakdown during second year, tried to kill myself, which is why I got the first tattoo, to cover up the scars. All better now," he said, when Sirius put a hand on his arm. "I'm on medication now, so I'm a lot better. But yeah, somehow got my degree. At uni I got really into climbing – it's practically in the Peak District. So I do a lot of that now, when I can. It's good up here, lots of mountains," and he finished his drink.
"I love the mountains," Sirius said, gently. "Not so keen on all the snow – I get cold easily, and I'm a sore loser when it comes to snowball fights," and Remus laughed.
"Sorry to get all morbid for a minute there. What about you? I know you're from the south," he said, and smiled.
"Yeah, I'm a home counties boy. Grew up between my grandparents' house in Cornwall and my parents' in Kent. You know about my education up to a point, but once I was chucked out of my private school I went to the local grammar, where I met James. He'd been kicked out of a school somewhere in Surrey, so they just sent him over the border."
"I didn't know you two had known each other for such a long time," Remus mused, looking into the fire.
"Oh yeah, we go way back. We both decided to go into teaching, once he had knocked some of my parents' more odious beliefs out of me. Plus, we could get funding for doing our degrees, and my parents refused to pay for it. They wanted me to go to Oxford, study medicine, and then join the Royal Army Medical Corps and marry some posh girl with a good pedigree and wide hips, but it was not to be. I didn't tell them that I wasn't going to do the right A-levels for that, but when my first school report came in for Maths, Further Maths, Physics and History they kicked me out. Changed the locks. I mean, it probably didn't help that when they went to discuss it with me, they walked in on me and some boy from college at rather an intimate part of proceedings, and well. I just didn't fit the image of their son, you know?" He drained his glass. "Fancy another drink?"
"I'll get this round," Remus said, blinking slightly. "Same again, or something stronger?"
Sirius grinned. "Fuck it, let's get shots," and Remus grinned back, teeth sharp and glinting in the firelight.
"Bloody hell," Sirius said, as Remus appeared with a tray of shots, and a couple of cocktails.
"I think Aberforth likes me," Remus said. "Although Lily said he's as randy as a goat – "
"Randy for goats, I think, dear Remus," muttered Sirius, and he grabbed at the cocktails. "Ooh, I love Sex on the Beach," he said.
"I'll bear that in mind," Remus replied, straightfaced, and Sirius almost inhaled a glacé cherry.
"So after your parents kicked you out," Remus said once he and Sirius had drank half their cocktails, "what happened?"
"Oh, I went to live with James actually. He and his parents love me, so you'll have to be on your best behaviour when you meet them, if this is something that we're going to be doing," and he slurped at the last of his drink.
"I promise to be on my best behaviour," Remus said, and passed him a shot.
"I don't think you're really proving that to me right now," Sirius whined, after downing the sambuca. "I mean, sambuca, really? Nobody likessambuca, do they?"
"Nobody likes Coldplay or the Tories, and they're still popular," Remus said, solemnly. "How's the play rehearsals coming along? We're doing Morte Darthur still and Warbeck is getting ansty about the lack of LGBT representation. I commend him for his inclusivity, but I mean, it was written a while ago – "
"Well, the play is coming along. No idea who we can get to play Guinevere although the Feminist Society, spearheaded by Lily, is talking about switching lots of the cast so that the knights are women and all the maidens are men. The girls are all very excited about this possibility, and the boys don't care because it impresses the girls, on the whole. Warbeck wants both Guinevere and Arthur to be played by boys. I think we're going to keep Lancelot as a man and make Guinevere a bisexual guy – "
"We have five weeks to go, and we're only at school for three of those," Remus reminded him. "Can we do all the script changes in time?"
"It's easy, we just switch a few of the verb endings in the French songs and Bob's your uncle. Dumbledore is all for it. At Christmas he drinks a lot more and cries to that terrible Eurotrash CD – remember, that Eurovision entry from the eighties. Grindelwart?"
"Do you mean Grindelwald?" Remus asked, and passed him another shot.
"Yeah, he and Dumbledore used to have a thing back in the day when they were in a band. I got this gossip from Percy, so it might not be that reliable – but anyway, Dumbledore wanted to move into prog rock, and Grindelwald wanted to make the whole universe enjoy Europop. The Second Great Schism, really. Very sad. It doesn't really help that Grindelwald is huge in Albania and I think certain parts of India, and Dumbledore is not huge anywhere. He has published a lot more academic papers, I think. So that's something," and he shrugged, and downed the shot. Remus pretended he wasn't watching how his throat moved.
"Right, so Christmas – the big question is, now that we've made the story of King Arthur as progressive as possible – the big question is, who do you have as your Secret Santa?" Remus asked. He opened a bar of Dairy Milk. "Want some?"
"Why do you always have chocolate? And sadly, dear Remus, I cannot tell you. I swore a solemn oath, and not even the threat of death could make me tell – "
"It's James, isn't it? Otherwise you wouldn't be so delighted with the news. I know that Frank has you and Snape has Lily, which he must have rigged. Dumbledore has Flitwick. Flitwick has Peter, I think. Peter has me – "
"Good God, man," said Sirius, aghast. "How do you know all this? Do people just look at your perfect fucking face and spill their souls to you? I mean, I don't blame them, but it's Secret Santa, is nothing sacred – "
"What are you going to get for him?" Remus asked, leaning forwards again.
"It's a secret, Remus. That's the point," he said, firmly, but licked his lips. "Well, I might give you – a clue – " he added, reaching out to pull Remus closer.
"No kisses until you tell me," Remus said, raising that eyebrow again. Sirius squirmed.
"Fine, fine. I'm getting him – and you can't tell anyone this – a photo album, and I'm going to fill it with all the photos we have of the gang. I mean, I know we have Facebook, but what if it all goes down and he doesn't have any? And it's kind of soppy I know but – "
Remus kissed him. "That's lovely, actually. He's lucky to have you," and he kissed him again. The clock on the mantle struck.
Sirius looked up, wild-eyed. "Shit, shit, it's one and we have to be in play rehearsals in eight hours – " and he walked Remus home, just round the corner, kissed him almost hard enough to bruise at the front door, and then ran home himself. It started to snow, and he almost slipped on an icy patch, but he got home before half three and fell asleep with all his clothes on.
In the morning, James woke him up with a huge mug of coffee and a wide grin. "How was your drink with Remus?"
Sirius gulped at the coffee. "We talked for fucking hours, it was great, and then we kissed and that was better. Like, okay, you know how I get when people pull my hair, I thought I was going to come there and then – "
"I think there are things about your sex life that I do not need to know," said James, reaching out to give him a high five. "I mean, ever since you called me on Skype and forgot about the handcuffs you still had on one wrist, and that bloke wandering naked into shot holding a whip – I mean, you know. I don't tell you this stuff, do I?"
Sirius rolled his eyes and pulled his shirt over his head. James whistled lowly at the bruises on his neck. "Some teeth on him, that boy," he commented, and Sirius threw a dirty sock at him.
"Oh, did you talk to him about the whole feminist revival of the play?" James asked, dodging the sock. "Because it isn't much work at all, and it'd make actually everyone happy, apart from Snape. Any chance to piss off Snape is always great. Plus like, subtext, was Guinevero denying his true sexuality when he married Arthuress, and then was Lancelot his true manly love?"
"You know, maybe we should just leave the names the same," said Sirius. "But yeah, it could like, call into question the heteronormativity of society both then and today."
"It's like Remus is in the room, isn't it? Stop quoting him and get in the shower, you stink of sambuca."
The snow was drifting against the windows and walls of the school, and half the playground was frozen. Sirius extracted some year sevens from the largest snowdrift, and he and James made their way into school.
"Hello," said Lily, falling into step beside them. "The last football match of the season is tomorrow, is it not?"
"You know it is," said Sirius. "You've been making banners since Halloween," and she grinned.
"Potter," she said, and next to him Sirius felt James stiffen. "How are the team looking?"
James took a deep breath. "Yeah, I think we're going to be okay. I mean, obviously, Slytherin have a reputation for cheating – "
"Don't let your dislike for Snape colour your dislike of his house. That was a long time ago, and I know you'd hate to be judged on the merits of what your parents did, for example. But I agree – you might actually have a chance," she said, and elbowed him, and then walked ahead, hair swinging behind her.
"I'm in love with her," James told Sirius, slightly hoarsely. "I'd walk to the ends of the earth on broken class if she asked me. I'd fight a thousand – "
"Okay," said Sirius, steering him towards their corridor. "Talking of fighting, are you still teaching the Civil War?"
"Yeah, I've divided the year eights into Roundheads and Cavaliers, paired up two from each side, and told them to do presentations about specific battles and events. We're doing propaganda next, so it'll be a good introduction, if they do it properly. They're doing it in fancy dress, which should be amusing. And then the AS-level lot are confused about the Russian Revolution. Year nine are doing well on World War I, it's all going alright. How's the world of physics?"
Sirius followed him into his classroom. "Physics is okay, all the stars seem to be where I left them. The A-level class approached full-on revolution during quantum physics but were calmed with a return to Newton. Year tens are all scarily into nuclear energy and I think we may need to keep an eye on Philips – she seems intent on smuggling yellowcake uranium into her garden shed. The thing is, she's bright enough to build a small reactor, but it's a risk," he concluded sadly, "that we must not take."
"Lily said yesterday that the Chemistry lot have been working on lots of cool potion type things," said Peter, coming in with tea. "She has decided to dress as a witch, for supervisory purposes. I believe, James, and I'm telling you this because I love you – I believe the costume may involve either lace or fishnets."
"Mother of God," James said, taking a sip of his tea and scalding his tongue.
"Oh, word from DT – the props are all coming along nicely. Flitwick says the choir have embraced their roles, and the French lot are ridiculously excited about mediaeval French. We're filling the performance element for, I think, four different subjects, as well as the art students, who can display their work," Peter relayed. "The year sevens are doing mapwork and they've been designing some rather excellent maps to go in our programmes, which are being processed by ICT."
"It all seems to be going swimmingly," Remus said, popping his head round the door. "The script is finished and it seems that everyone knows their lines. The only department without much to do seems to be Maths," and he grinned at Sirius, who almost forgot to breathe. Remus hadn't shaved that morning, he noted, and was wearing a sea-green shirt.
"Maths can do magic, can't they? I mean, they can come up with some formulae that look cool. We could put some fun equations on the programmes," said Sirius, and James snorted.
"Fun equations? All history is doing is providing a few narrators, and some historical notes for the programmes. There's no way in hell you're going to let Snape get anywhere near," he said, wisely. "I just hope he doesn't come down with a severe attack of sour grapes and try to spoil it."
"Even he wouldn't do that," said Peter. "I mean, he's only here because Dumbledore seems content to turn a blind eye to his frequent use of the whiteboard rubber as a high-speed projectile. He'd not risk it, would he?"
The room filled with ominous music. James checked his pocket, and pulled out his phone. "Sorry, it's Mum," he mouthed, and went off to answer it.
"Suppose we'd all better get back to our own classrooms," said Remus. "Class starts in half an hour, and I've still got a load of books to rearrange," and he shot a look at Sirius under his lashes.
"Would you like some help?" asked Sirius.
"Thank you," said Remus. "That would be lovely."
"I could help too!" yelled Peter, as they left the classroom. Remus pretended he had not heard.
"Just wanted a quick word," he said to Sirius. "I had a lot of fun last night and I'd love to do it again, but the play has to go well. It's my first year here and given that I'm in charge of the writing of the thing, it'll reflect badly on me if it's snarled up in any way," and Sirius nodded.
"I absolutely understand," he said, ignoring the way his stomach twisted at the words. "Maybe we should – wait a little, until after the play at least," and Remus nodded. He leaned in close, as if to kiss Sirius, but then kissed his cheek instead. Sirius smiled. "Have you seen my neck?"
Remus shoved the soft material of his posh jumper aside. "Oh, look at you," he breathed, looking as if he wanted to kiss every bruise on Sirius's neck. "Christ, you know, I don't think I want to wait until after the play. I mean, I know it's a bad idea, but well – you make me want to be reckless," and this time he really did kiss Sirius, curling his fingers in his hair.
Sirius kissed him back, and dropped one hand to curve around Remus's bony hip. "This is probably inappropriate on school grounds," he muttered, "but I really want to blow you," and Remus swore into his mouth, and pulled on his hair.
"This is definitely inappropriate," said James, walking into the classroom. "Glad you're getting along so well, lads, but the bell's about to go and I don't think year nine would be too pleased to see a re-enactment of Oscar Wilde's inspiration for Dorian Gray – "
"Nobody here is going to be arrested, it's not a crime, and Sirius is much prettier than Dorian Gray," said Remus, sensibly.
"Don't tell him that," James said. "It'll only go to his head. I'm convinced he has a picture hidden away somewhere in the attic, he's that fucking pretty," and so the advancing year nines were treated to a teacher swearing, instead. James got at least sixteen high fives as he hurried back to his classroom.
"Thank you for the assistance, Mr. Black," Remus said, and Sirius chanced a glance at the class. They were sat, hanging onto their every word.
"You're more than welcome, Mr. Lupin. I'd be willing to give you a hand at lunchtime if you still need it?" he said, and was rewarded with Remus blushing peony.
"That would be great, thanks," Remus said, and bundled him out the classroom. He took a deep breath, and turned the corner to go to his own room, and walked snap-bang into Snape.
"You're late, Black," Snape said.
"Yeah," said Sirius, "I know I am, but what are you?"
Snape blinked. "I'm not even sure that's correct. Anyway, I'm not late, because I have a free period as my year eleven Maths Challenge team are doing that. They're through to the finals," he said, smugly. Sirius wanted to punch him more than ever.
"Well that's great, at least they'll get a certificate to console them about being virgins for life," he said. Snape stepped closer. Sirius could see every blackhead on his nose.
"Physics is almost as geeky as Maths, Black," he said. Sirius thought that this, whilst true, was also a lie, but before he could retort, Snape went on. "I suggest that you get to your classroom before I report you to the headmaster for tardiness."
"Tardiness? What fucking century is this?" Sirius said, but sighed and headed to his classroom.
"Sorry I'm late, folks," he said. "There was, erm, a physics emergency. CERN called me, very important – "
Briony Welbeck snorted. "We saw you snogging Mr. Lupin. Me and Claire were having a fag and we saw you through the window. Fair play sir, he's fit," and Sirius wondered if it was too late to borrow a drill from DT to trepan himself.
"That's my private life, and I'd like to ask you all – all- to keep it private. I know I have not been as discreet as I should have been, but please don't mention this to your friends. I know far too much about all of you, remember? All that forgotten homework, extra time on projects, spliffs in pencil cases?"
"Sir," said Hugo Casey. "Blackmail's a bit low, surely? You don't have to threaten us, we'll keep it a secret," and he smiled, and Sirius breathed a sigh of relief and got on with talking to them all about hydroelectricity.
When the bell went, Sirius rushed next door. Remus was sat on his desk, talking on the phone, so Sirius waved and then perched on the edge of a desk. He tried not to listen to the phone call, but it sounded serious; "I'd tell you if I needed that," and "I don't consider myself your patient anymore," and finally "For fuck's sake," as Remus hung up the phone.
"Sorry about that," he said, after a pause. "My doctor, being annoying. How are you?"
"Well, my year sevens saw us kissing," Sirius said. Remus passed a hand over his forehead, as if he had a migraine building.
"Maybe we were right, about not wanting to rush things. We certainly don't want the school finding out, at least not yet – it does seem rather improper. But see, I can say that, and then I look at you, and it's all I can do not to kiss you right now," Remus said, slightly sadly.
"Maybe, then, a compromise. We need to somehow stop doing anything improper on school property. If we separate our private lives from our school lives, we'll always have time to stop ourselves from rushing into it," Sirius said slowly. Remus grinned at him.
"We can do that, right? We can stop ourselves from doing anything physical at school? I mean, the way you look right now, I really wouldn't mind crawling under your teacher's desk and blowing you, but – "
"Remus," Sirius said, looking pained. "You can't just say things like that, you can't," and then they were kissing, and then the bell went and Sirius went off to impart knowledge to his class. It was difficult, but he looked at lots of photos of Sir Isaac Newton, and eventually he could stand up without worrying the whole class could see how hard he was.
At lunch, he went to talk to James, who was eating a cheese sandwich in a maudlin sort of way. "Hello," James said, through a mouthful of cheddar. "I want to drown myself, and that is because a child asked me if the Civil War and the Wars of the Roses were the same thing. Also, apparently, Lily is going out with Snape," and he took another bite of the sandwich.
"I also have problems," Sirius said, sliding into the seat next to him. "You see, Remus is really fit and I want him to fuck me on his desk, and I think if I spend enough time in his classroom it might happen, and I had to look at pictures of Isaac Newton to stop myself coming in my pants – oh hello Pete," he said, as Peter sat opposite.
"Alright lads," said Peter. "James, some news – Snape started that rumour, and then apparently Lily went all Fury on him and yelled at him. And also, Sirius, stop wanking over dead physicists," and he stuck his straw into his Ribena incorrectly, sending blackcurrant juice all over the table.
"I'm not wanking over dead physicists – "
"Any more," muttered James, who was chewing his crusts as if he hoped he might choke on them.
"That was one time, and anyway, Pete, the issue is that Remus and I can't seem to keep our hands of each other." Sirius pulled out his own lunch, and James managed a laugh.
"Poor little rich boy, can't have sex with a hot boy because of fucking common sense. Of course you're eating fucking smoked salmon bagels. You can take the boy out of the mansion – "
"It wasn't a mansion," Sirius said, stiffly. "Don't be a dick just because I'm getting somewhere with Remus and your football term barely know their arse from their elbow – "
"Sirius," Peter said. "You're being unfair. Plus, I don't think the football team is the problem, is it? I mean, the whole thing with Lily must be – "
"Yep, thanks Pete," James snapped. "Honestly, this has been a terrible morning, and I've got fucking Loverboy going on about how tragic it is that he can't fuck on school property, and you reminding me of all my problems every five minutes. I'm going for a walk," and off he went.
"Looks like someone got out of bed on the wrong side this morning," commented Pete, slurping the spilled Ribena from the table. Sirius rested his head on his hands.
"He was just as rich as I was," he mumbled, through his fingers.
He didn't see James again until the evening. He got home at six, fighting with the door in the gale-force wind that was driving snow down the back of his neck. James was already in, eating a microwave meal.
"Chicken balti?" Sirius asked, and then held his breath.
"Nah, jalfrezi," James said, after a pause. "Sorry for being a wanker, mate. It's just – this whole quest thing. I mean sure, the play's going to go okay, but the football team really were shit today. I don't know if I can pull this off," and he morosely took a mouthful of pilau rice.
"James William Potter," Sirius said, sitting down next to him and getting snow all over the carpet. "The play is going to be a wonder. And the football team are just nervous, and I hate to criticise you, but maybe if you let them relax a little – "
"There's no time to relax," James insisted, opening a third beer. "They need to keep practising – "
"Yeah, and if you make them do that they'll be neurotic about it. Remember when your dad made you keep on at rugby, even when you had other stuff to think about? And you ended up chucking it all in, because the pressure was too immense?"
"Shut up with your physics talk," mumbled James, but he nodded. "I'll tell them tomorrow. I'll say, relax a bit. The thing is that the whole school knows that if they win, I get to ask out Lily. That's the pressure. I'm not working them as hard as Snape is working the Slytherins. I hope they'll win out of sheer talent, because they really are a talented bunch," and he nodded at a plastic bag on the counter.
"Got you a korma," and Sirius smiled and within five minutes was back on the sofa with his curry and a peshwari naan. "Anything on telly?"
By Wednesday, the day before the match, Remus was wearing Christmas jumpers and the school had been transformed into an elf's wet dream. Peter was wearing a jumper with a pudding, and singing songs, badly. Sirius had plaited his hair and tied it with tinsel, and James was singing songs in his impressive baritone.
"Okay, small geniuses," said James to the amassed football team. "You've all been working very hard. Tonight, I want you to go home, eat some pasta, and relax. Watch rubbish on the telly, wear fluffy socks, get a good night's sleep, yeah?"
Oliver led the team in a round of cheers.
Thursday was Match Day, and the Slytherins and Gryffindors had to kept apart at lunchtime. In years gone by, the two teams had put each other in the hospital wing. This year, nobody was taking any chances. Year sevens sneered at year sevens and year tens whispered threats about vodka and the local police officer and dodgy cigarettes. It was a bitterly cold day, with an icy wind, and the teams were wearing as many layers as they could fit underneath their team jerseys.
The whistle blew; Dumbledore was umpiring. Slytherin started off with the ball, to great whoops and cheers from the green mass on one side of the pitch. Gryffindor took possession with a remarkable tackle from Hendricks, but by the fortieth minute, neither side had scored. When the whistle went for half time, James was almost hoarse from shouting.
"Here," said Remus, handing him a cup of tea. "Hello," he said to Sirius, who smiled.
"Don't expect much conversation from James. Charlie Weasley has been stretchered off, a dodgy tackle from that troll over there, but nobody saw it closely enough to decide if it's allowed. We're pretty stressed. Both teams down to their last subs, but at least ours is Oliver Wood," and as Wood stood up, and stretched, the Gryffindor supporters went wild.
"How many broken bones?" Remus asked, only half joking.
Sirius patted James on the back. "So far, only a few hearts," and with that it was time to get back on the pitch.
Remus produced a flask of hot chocolate from somewhere inside his bag. "It's Cadburys, the old stuff from before the takeover. I stockpiled it", he said, and Sirius could only stare at him in wonder.
"You beautiful man," he said, and a warmth spread through his chest that had little to do with the hot chocolate and much more to do with the fact that Remus had surreptitiously taken his hand.
The game continued below them, and in the seventy-sixth minute, Slytherin scored. Snape curled his lip across the pitch at James, who sat down suddenly, as if his legs had given way. He looked as though he might cry. Sirius stood. "We should go to him," he said, but then Remus shushed him.
"Look," he said, and pointed through the crowd. Lily was walking up to James, wearing a red Gryffindor jumper. Sirius jolted so hard he almost fell over, and Remus tugged him back down to a sitting position.
Lily leaned in close to James, and he smiled so hard Sirius wondered if the whole of Scotland could see that he had had very expensive orthodontia. At a roar from the crowd, James leapt up, and whirled Lily round in his arms; Gryffindor had just equalised at the eighty-ninth minute. The supporters in red began to sing, and Sirius sat contently, holding Remus's hand secretly and sipping hot chocolate, when there was a gasp from the crowd, and then a sickly silence.
"What's going on?" Remus said, and Sirius looked at the pitch.
"I did rugby," he reminded him. "It looks like there's been a foul. Look, Flint's getting a red card," and so he was. Next to him, Hendricks lay in agony, with one leg bending at an unnatural angle.
"Shit," Remus said. "So, is that – do we get penalties? Is this the World Cup all over again?"
Peter looked over at them. "Bloody hell, does James know how little you two know about footy? We get a free kick. The ball's over there, and Flint attacked Hendricks – "
"Are you reading the rules on your phone?" asked Remus, leaning over to look, and Peter shoved it away.
"It's been a while since I played, alright?" he muttered.
The free kick had been set up. Wood was taking it, and as he stepped forwards, Sirius said a small prayer to a god he no longer believed in, and the ball flew straight and true and hit the back of the net.
Dumbledore seized an ancient megaphone. "Gryffindor win! The title is theirs! Congratulations, Gryffindor House!" and Sirius privately wondered if Dumbledore had ever said those words before. Below them, James was hugging his team and weeping incoherently. Lily was handing out Freddo bars, paid for by James after the school refused to stretch to paying twenty-six pence per chocolate frog, and Remus was holding his hand.
As the team lifted the cup, and after the photos, once the Gryffindor supporters had surged onto the pitch to lift Wood onto their shoulders and sing songs that no longer had any meaning, Sirius looked at James, who was standing very close to Lily. Remus leaned in close, and motioned drinking a pint. Without a word, Sirius nodded, and within half an hour, most of the teachers were packed into the Three Broomsticks.
James was bought pint after pint until his face was red and his eyes glassy, and then he stood on a table and made a rambling speech about love and honour and the Romans and sports, and Lily pulled him down from the table and kissed him, and during the whistles and cheers, Sirius noticed that Remus had vanished.
He looked around, and then headed outside, where Remus was sat on a small patch of non-snowy wall, smoking. "You alright?" he asked, and Remus startled.
"Yeah, it's just – it was pretty loud in there. I have anxiety. Hence the meltdown at uni. When I was a kid things were pretty shit for a bit, and now I'm a bit of a mess of anxiety. So yeah, that's, you know. I can understand if you don't want to see me anymore," and he took another long drag.
"I understand," Sirius said, squeezing close to him and extracting a battered Marlborough Gold from his pack. "I have my own stuff, as well. Everyone has stuff," and Remus kissed him, and he tasted of smoke and marzipan.
"Want to get out of here?" he said, and Sirius kissed him, and nodded. They grabbed their coats, said goodbye to James, Lily and Peter – all of whom kissed them all on the lips, all of whom were swaying like a scarecrow in a gale – and headed to the pub they had been to, the last time it was just the two of them.
It was quieter in there, and the fire was burning low. Sirius got them drinks, and watched Remus drink his too quickly. "Hey," he said. "I'm right here," and under the table, Remus grabbed his hand, and didn't let go.
For a while they didn't talk, just looked at the fire crackling and held hands, and then Remus turned to him.
"Thank you," he said. "I was getting a bit stressed in there, and I was getting better but then the other week my psychiatrist phoned me – you were there – and he said that because of funding cuts," and Remus spat the words, "my therapy will be less often. He said I need to ensure I have a secure support system in place. I don't want to need a fucking secure support system, I just want friends."
Sirius watched the fire for a few minutes before speaking. "Friends are your support system. And it's the same for everyone, whether your biggest problem is that you've never managed to finish War and Peaceor you're in hospital for suicidal ideation. Friends are – we're all here for you, and not because we pity you. We're here because we care about you," and he drew Remus close, and Remus hugged him tightly.
"Sirius Orion Black," he said. "You're a bloody marvel," and he kissed him, long and slow. The barman cleared his throat, and nodded at two drinks on the bar, and then returned to polishing a filthy glass with a filthier rag. Sirius looked up, and the barman shrugged.
"It's Christmas, and you two have been my only customers all day, and I'm trying to like, curry favour, so that you come back and keep drinking your expensive drinks," and Sirius grinned and went up to the bar, sliding a twenty across the top.
"Get one for yourself as well, mate," he said, and the barman shrugged again but smiled a small smile which reminded Sirius of Dumbledore in some way. Remus drank his drink more slowly this time, licking up the straw in a way which shouldn't have turned Sirius on. He realised with a sigh that Remus reading the phone book would turn him on, and told him this with a resigned expression.
He leaned in and kissed Sirius again, maddeningly softly, and let go of his glass to slip one hand around Sirius's waist and moved the other to his hair. He pulled, slightly, on Sirius's hair. Sirius half-yowled into his mouth, and Remus grinned against his lips and did it again.
"I hate to sound like an inexperienced teenager," Sirius said, separating them just enough that he could see Remus's eyes, darker than he had ever seen them, "but if you keep doing that I will actually come in my pants and I'm wearing really nice boxers today – oh God," he groaned, as Remus bit down gently on the skin of his neck. "Yeah, you could – actually like, leave a mark again, if you want to," and Remus made a sound that could only be described as a growl and bit down harder. "Actually, how far away is your place, because I really need – "
"Round the corner," Remus said against his neck, voice rough. "Come on," and they grabbed their coats and headed out into the snow.
Remus's really was just around the corner, Sirius was grateful to note, but the walk took a lot longer than it should have had because Sirius was struggling to keep his hands out of Remus's back pockets. At the door, Remus fiddled with the keys as Sirius muttered threats in his ear about doorstep blowjobs unless he fucking hurried up and at last the door was open and Remus dragged Sirius to his room, which by some miracle was on the ground floor, and the minute his door (covered in posters and concert tickets) was closed behind them Sirius had sank to his knees, unbuttoned Remus's jeans, and took him into his mouth like it was something he was born to do. He closed his eyes, knowing if he looked at the tattoos which danced their way down Remus's thighs then he would be undone, and ran his tongue along the underside of Remus's cock. Remus swore, and thrusted, and then stopped himself.
Sirius lifted his head until he could kiss the slit of Remus's cock, mind full of thoughts about saints and lips and kisses, some half-forgotten metaphor from Romeo and Juliet, and said "You can do that if you want, but only if you pull my hair," and he watched Remus swear again and tasted the pre-come that was leaking from his cock and swallowed him down again until his nose could almost touch Remus's tattooed, toned stomach. Remus put his hands in Sirius's hair, and pulled, and as he did so Sirius hollowed his cheeks and sucked and felt himself let go, tip over the edge, and he regretted his now-ruined boxers for a moment until Remus thrusted his hips and came with a shout and the thud of his head hitting the back of the door. They remained as they were for a few minutes, both panting, both with lust-blown eyes, and Remus reached out to pull Sirius to his feet and kissed him.
"You taste like me," he muttered, and smiled, and Sirius half-expected a possessive lip-bite but there was none, just a smile and a gentle kiss. "Fuck, Sirius," said Remus when they pulled apart. "That was – that was the hottest thing in the universe, fucking hell. Listen to how inarticulate I am," and he smiled again. "I have a degree in literature and I can't think of anything to say apart from fucking hell but you're so beautiful on your knees," and he kissed Sirius again, softly. "What can I do for you?"
Sirius shifted slightly, and sat down on the bed. "Erm, well, the hair-pulling and the noises you were making, I think I've ruined my nice boxers. Like, it's just, a thing with me. You can order me around as well if you like," and he was looking at his feet, "erm, that's quite nice. I think it's maybe like, I like giving up control," and Remus sat down next to him.
"I must confess, not only is that incredibly fucking hot to hear, and something I will definitely keep in mind, I'm intrigued to see these boxers of yours," and Sirius smirked and pressed an aching kiss to the corner of his mouth and stood up to peel off his jeans. Remus watched, eyebrow raised. "I've never seen jeans that skinny you know," and Sirius smirked again as he tugged them over his feet.
"Shut up, you love it," and at last his jeans were on the floor. His boxers were black, with a large image of the Tower of Orthanc on them, and when he turned round Remus saw the Eye of Sauron.
"Sirius," he said, as gravely as he could. "Those are an abomination. You will have to burn them. Take them off, and come over here."
Remus woke up to still-naked Sirius wrapped around him, and his phone going off. He grabbed it, swore at the time, saw it was Lily, and answered it. Sirius muttered something, and shifted closer to him.
"Where are you?" asked Lily. "It's Friday, school starts in an hour, and I'm giving you half an hour before I come in there. I know where you keep your spare key, and it's snowing again. Please get your arse here and remember to put on trousers this time!"
"Ah," Remus said, poking Sirius until he woke up. "Yep, I'll be – five minutes," he said, and hung up.
"Morning, you," Sirius said, stretching slightly. "If I'd known what a duvet hog you'd be, I'd have brought my own one from home," and Remus kissed him without thinking about morning breath.
"Put some clothes on," said Remus. Sirius groaned but got up, and Remus almost forgot to breathe as he watched him padding across the floor. "Your arse is fucking perfect, by the way," he said.
Sirius looked over one shoulder in the manner of a starlet on the red carpet, and smirked. "Shouldn't you be getting up as well? We have to get to school, it's – "
"Alright, alright," grumbled Remus, and he stopped halfway through selecting a shirt from the wardrobe. "Do we have time to shower?"
After their shower, in which Remus displayed excellent breath control and tongue techniques – "I learned the clarinet in school," he said, smugly, and then added "I was best at the fingering," at which Sirius bit his neck – he opened the door to Lily, who was wearing a polo neck and a scarf, and what looked like a hangover. Behind her, James was standing with his hands in his pockets.
"Oh, hello," Sirius said, shoving a mug of coffee at her. His shirt was still undone, there were bruises and scratches all down his chest, and he looked very happy. "Where did you end up last night, then?"
She looked at him balefully. "I slept at yours, actually. And no, we did not shag, we just did bits and bobs, to satisfy your puerile and perhaps slightly perverted curiosity. I'm not sure if I'm surprised to see you here or not," and she took a gulp of coffee. James looked at her fondly.
"Ah, Lily," Remus said, doing up his tie. "You see, Sirius cannot resist my charms – "
"It's true," said Sirius, sadly. "I cannot resist his charms. Speaking of charms, what cereal do you have?"
"I'd heard about this obsession with expensive American cereal," Remus said, with narrowed eyes. "No time for cereal, anyway. We have to go, or we'll all be late – Lily, do you have your car?"
"I have my car," she confirmed, and they made it school with five minutes to spare.
Sirius hurried to his classroom, where his grumpy A-level class were sat. "So, the question of today is," he said, "which Christmas film do we watch? Last day of term, you lot, come on – "
The day passed in a blur of ice-skating, two boys crying during Love Actually, and then it was hometime and time for Secret Santa. Sat in the staff-room, Flitwick opened an old piece of music from the fifteenth century, written in the baroque style, and he cried and thanked Dumbledore in a querulous voice. Peter was given a magnificent globe, and Remus opened a signed edition of Seamus Heaney's Beowulf and gave Peter a long hug. James loved his photo album. Lily also got a photo album, except that it was from Snape and therefore, full of pictures of the two of them from their PGCE course, and there were lots of shots taken from a distance, as if Snape had been standing in a tree or some shrubbery.
Sirius, once this uncomfortable moment had passed and Lily had thanked Snape with a slightly nauseous expression, opened a huge star-map. It looked hand-drawn, and when he looked closer he saw that not only was it a map of the stars, but it also tracked the heavens. "Lovegood helped. I can inform you," said Frank, "that your moon is rising in Gemini," and Sirius hugged him, genuinely and warmly.
"That sounds uncomfortable," Peter said, and the room exploded into laughter, and as people began to trickle home, Remus waited until he and Sirius were the last ones in the room.
"So I hate to be cheesy and cliché and all that, but the year nines made me watch Love Actually three times, and so – "
"Oh God," Sirius said, terrified. "You're not going to tell me all you want for Christmas is me, are you?"
Remus laughed. "No, don't worry. If I ever do, you have permission to perform a lobotomy," and from behind his back he produced a piece of mistletoe. "I do have this, however," and he kissed Sirius, hand tilting his jaw slightly. They slept curled around eachother again.
The holidays, as always, passed quickly. Sirius spent most of his time planning lessons and marking work and panicking over the play, and Remus, James, Lily and Peter spent their time doing this but getting much more sleep. On Christmas Eve, Sirius drank enough merlot for his courage to leap into his mouth, but before he could tell Remus he loved him, Remus said "I love you," and it was all okay. Lily proclaimed them "nauseating", but as she and James had matching jumpers they claimed to wear ironically, Sirius threw stuffing at her every time she mentioned this. They had Christmas dinner together, a sort of ramshackle family, along with James's parents and Lily's dad and Peter's mum, and an assortment of various dogs, all crammed into James and Sirius's tiny living room.
The new year was fast approaching, and Remus and Sirius were snatching every bit of time they could together, but it wasn't until the morning of New Year's Eve that Sirius sat with him at breakfast, waited until he had finished his boiled egg, and said "I want you to fuck me tonight," and Remus looked at him and smiled.
The day was spent in a rush, tidying up the house for the planned party that evening. James appeared to have bought all the wine that France could offer, and Sirius was in charge of music, which was a responsibility that would be taken away after the sixth time he played "I Believe in a Thing Called Love".
They drank, and drank, and then their guests arrived and they drank more and Flitwick was asleep by eleven, with his head on Lovegood's shoulder. Frank Longbottom plucked up the courage to speak to Alice from Maths, the angel to Snape's evil overlord devil, and she looked at him and smiled and kissed him, to cheers all round. At midnight, Sirius kissed Remus until his heart was racing, and then they disappeared upstairs.
In Sirius's bedroom, Remus took off his shirt, and folded it and put it on the chair. Sirius kicked away his jeans, helped Remus do the same, and pulled Remus's jumper over his head, and kissed every inch of his stomach, marvelling at the way the ink looked. Remus sat up, and pulled Sirius's shirt off as well, and slipped a hand down the front of his boxers.
"I want to see you, but I'm alarmed at what your boxers might look like," he said, and Sirius laughed and took those off as well and then they were both naked and Remus's eyes were bright in the darkness and he reached over into the top drawer, found the lube, and slipped a finger inside Sirius. Sirius tried to keep his breathing steady, but when Remus added a second finger and crooked them, and found the spot that made Sirius weak and the knees, his hips bucked and he swore.
"You like that, don't you?" Remus said. "Another?" and Sirius swore and nodded, shifting his hips and moving backwards, desperate for more. Remus seemed amused, and he moved on the bed until he was in front of Sirius. "Up, onto your knees," he said, and Sirius scrambled to do so, whining as Remus removed his fingers.
"I'm so – so ready for you," he said, and Remus kissed his way down his spine and when Sirius felt his clever tongue push its way inside him he felt himself begin to unravel. "Oh God," he managed, harder than he'd ever been before. "Fucking hell, Remus, I need you, I need you inside me, I need you to fuck me, to fill me up, I – please – " and Remus drew back.
"You're ready for me?" he asked, and Sirius looked over his shoulder to see him looking at him, serious and steady.
"Yes, yes, condoms in the top drawer – " and he heard the drawer opening, the ripping open of a packet, and then Remus was behind him again.
"I want to see your face," Remus said, softly, and Sirius turned over and spread his bent legs wide.
"Now, please fuck me," he said, and Remus laughed, and kissed him again.
"You're fucking needy, aren't you?" he said, smirking.
"Only for you," Sirius said, and watched his eyes darken with lust, and then he guided Remus into him. It hurt, it always did, but only a little, only enough to make Sirius deliciously sore the next morning. Remus stayed still, and Sirius reached out to put his hands onto his beautiful arse. "Fucking move," he half-growled, and Remus groaned and pulled out, very slowly, and Sirius waited, and then - almost as slowly – Remus slid back in, and again, faster, and then suddenly he got the angle perfect and Sirius started rambling – "oh fuck oh god Remus, that's it, that's it, fuck you fill me up, I – fuck – " and he reached forwards with one hand to stroke himself, and at the sight Remus moved faster, still with that perfect angle, and they were both sweating now, and he could feel it building in his belly like a wave, and he bucked his hips and swore and the wave was cresting and he was coming in hot, thick spurts across both their stomachs. He put his thumb in his mouth, tasting himself, and at that Remus groaned out something which might have been his name and came, still moving through it until he collapsed onto Sirius's chest, panting and boneless.
He was the most beautiful thing Sirius had ever seen, and he told him that, and then he got a towel and wiped them both clean and when Remus got back from throwing away the condom, he and Sirius fell asleep curled round each other as if even naked they could not be close enough. "Happy new year," Remus whispered, and Sirius turned and kissed him and sleepily repeated it, and then right before they fell asleep he took Remus's hand and kissed his wrists, where the tattoos hid the scars, and Remus dreamed of strong arms and bright smiles and sharp teeth.