VIII

Sirius, James, Remus and Peter were at one of their favourite bars. It was a dingy hole in the wall called Wide Open. This small bar never ID, ever. They loved going there for this reason. They all had fake IDs, but some bars would scan them and they didn't want to risk having them taken away.

Sirius couldn't wait to turn 21. That way, they didn't need to worry about this kind of thing. He loved drinking. Once he had one drink, it was hard for him to stop. He could tell that it had irritated James a few times. But he thought James was just being boring. He wasn't that bad when he drank. This is what you were supposed to do when you are young.

On this night, no one wanted to stay out very late. James had plans to meet up with Lily, and Peter said he was tired. Sirius found this frustrating but was determined to enjoy the time while they were out.

"Did you see FIDLAR is coming to town?" Sirius asked, eagerly bobbing in his seat. "Does anyone want to come?"

They shook their heads. Peter grimaced. "I can't stand when you put that crap on."

"Portugal. The Man is worse," James added, wrinkling his nose. "Their shit is so pretentious. That song Modern Jesus you play on repeat is-"

"Okay, I get it." Sirius rolled his eyes. "I've got shit taste in music." He turned his attention to Remus. "Moony? Come on!"

"I would, but Hozier tickets just went on sale," he explained.

"I'll buy your ticket," Sirius begged.

Remus bit his lip. "I don't know." He never liked when Sirius tried to buy him expensive things. A scholarship covered Remus's tuition and his grandparents helped him with rent. He didn't need to work, but he didn't have extra money the way he, Peter, and James did. Sirius wished he would just let him buy things. He didn't need the money. Sirius had inherited so much from his uncle that if he was careful with it, he would be set for life. He supposed he understood though, the Potter's had given him a lot, and it always made him feel weird. Sirius dropped the subject, not wanting to make Remus feel uncomfortable.

"What are you doing with Lily?" Sirius asked James, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Sirius, I know you are completely emotionally stunted, but sometimes when you love someone you want to spend time with them," James said with the shake of his head.

"Yeah, and sometimes when you like someone you-"

"Sirius stop," James chided.

"Sorry," Sirius said. "You two are really serious, then?"

James smiled and nodded his head. "I think she's the one."

"You two are weirdly perfect for each other," Remus agreed.

"I'm happy for you," Sirius told him. He truly meant it.

Sirius tried to get Remus to stay at the bar so that he could keep drinking after Peter and James left. Eventually, Remus suggested they sneak some alcohol into the dorm. Since Remus was the residents advisor, he had his own room, meaning there was a low likelihood of getting caught.

The student housing complex was off campus. They ran it through a company outside of the school. This allowed them to have more relaxed rules. Most of the time, a blind eye was turned on underage drinking in the dorm. Every so often there would be floor parties, where everyone would open their doors and drink in the hall. Normally, they would get broken up later in the evening, but they allowed them to go on for a while. You had to do something pretty bad to get disciplined for drinking.

The first store they tried to buy beer from wouldn't sell to them, so they went to a different one, where they had more luck. Then they moved the beer into Remus's backpack and headed back to the dorm.

Sprawling across Remus's bed, Sirius said, "Moony, you're so lucky you have so much space."

"You have enough money that you could buy an entire house," Remus said, chucking a pillow at him. "Move! You're taking up the entire bed."

Sirius rolled over, giving Remus room to sit next to him. "Why did you and James move into student housing, anyway?" Remus asked, passing him a beer.

"The Potter's told us we needed to get the real university experience." Sirius shrugged. "And so we could make friends." He dug his fingers into Remus's side. "How else would we have become friends?"

"I thought we became friends when you gave me ten sugar packets for my tea?" Remus grinned.

"It wasn't ten!"

"How many was it, then?"

"Like five or six. I don't know."

"Same thing."

"Last time I bring you tea," Sirius said, moving to tickle Remus along his ribs.

Remus wriggled around laughing. "Okay! I take it back! I take it back!"

Sirius shifted, rolling on top of Remus, his fingers moving under his sweater, to tickle the skin along the edge of his jeans. Remus's hips rolled into him as he squirmed, laughing. Sirius suddenly realized their faces were inches apart. He felt like all the breath was knocked out of his lungs. Then he realized he was... this was bad.

His fingers froze, leaving the two staring at each other. Sirius could feel his face growing hot as he rolled off Remus. He prayed he didn't feel what happened. Sirius found his drink and took a long swig. It had been an inappropriate physiological response. That's all, right?

The situation confused him. He didn't understand why Remus made him feel this way. He was attractive, sure. Sirius had thought about it more than he'd like to admit. But that wasn't what confused him. He didn't understand why Remus made him feel this way, like he couldn't breathe. Remus was his friend. You weren't supposed to feel this way around your friends.

When Sirius looked over at Remus, he was watching him closely. He was sure his face was bright red. He knew he should probably say something. Apologize maybe? At the very least, he should change the subject and act like nothing had happened. But Sirius was not the type of person who could do either of those things, so instead he shifted uncomfortably. Remus clearly didn't know what to do, either.

After a moment, Remus said, "did I do something?"

"No."

Remus sighed heavily before asking Sirius how his classes were going. The conversation returned to normal, the two acting as though nothing had happened. As they talked, over time, they lay next to each other. Remus's breath was hot on his face. Sirius ran a hand through his hair. "Impressionism sucks."

"I would have thought it would appeal to your rebellious nature," Remus said, shaking his head.

Sirius sat up, leaning on his elbows. "How are those brushy pastel paintings rebellious?" He asked, his eyes narrowing.

"I'm sure they'll cover it in our history class soon."

"By I like when you teach me," he whined, laying back down. Sirius loved listening to Remus talk about art. He loved listening to Remus talk about anything, really. But you could tell how much he loved art, and that made it so captivating to listen to. He was just so damn earnest.

"In France, they would have these exhibits called Salon's," Remus began explaining. Sirius closed his eyes, listening to Remus's voice. "The Paris Salon was really popular. They would fill walls from ceiling to floor with art. This was a space that artists could build their reputation and sell art."

Sirius huffed. "I thought we were talking about the impressionists."

"I'll get there," Remus told him patiently. "If you got accepted to the Salon, it could make or break your career. They had a jury that decided what art could be accepted. The Paris Salon rejected many of the impressionists. It was widely believed that their paintings were vulgar. Many members of the public mocked the movement all together."

"If they think that was vulgar, they would have never survived on the internet," Sirius chuckled.

Remus grinned. "I know, right? They ended up protesting and creating an exhibit called The Salon des Refusés, it means-"

"Exhibitions of rejects," Sirius cut in. "I know, I speak French."

"Oh, I didn't know." Remus flushed, "my accent is shit, sorry."

Sirius shook his head. "It's good." It wasn't, but he would never tell Remus that.

"Anyway, yes… Salon of the refused or exhibitions of rejects. That's kind of the end of the story."

Rolling back onto his side, Sirius looked into Remus's eyes. "If this art thing doesn't work out for you, you could become a teacher. You're good at it." They had long since run out of beer. He yawned, realizing how late it had gotten. "I should go," Sirius breathed. "It's getting late."

Remus bit his lip, his cheeks stained red. "Why don't you just stay here?"

"You sure?"

"Of course."

"Okay," he said, feeling a warm happiness simmer in his stomach.

Remus got up and flicked the light off, then crawled back into bed. Sirius lay there listening as Remus's breath turned heavier. He was clearly asleep now, but Sirius couldn't fall asleep with Remus that close to him. Close but not touching. He didn't know what to do. Sirius thought about getting up and leaving, going back to his room. He was worried he would wake Remus up, though. And if he didn't wake Remus up, then Remus would wake up in the morning, Sirius having disappeared. He felt caged in.

Sighing deeply, he rolled over, facing away from Remus. He was hoping if he couldn't see him, he would be fine. If he couldn't feel his breath or smell his scent, then he would fall asleep. But that felt worse. He ran his fingers through his hair, exhaling.

Remus rolled into him, snaking his arm around Sirius's waist. He sleepily nuzzled his nose into Sirius's hair. "What's wrong?"

Sirius would have thought the physical contact would have made the situation worse. But it actually calmed him down. "I can't sleep," Sirius whined.

Reaching his hand up, Remus smoothed down Sirius's hair. Running his fingers through it, playing with it. Then he lightly trailed his hand down Sirius's neck and shoulders, his muscles relaxing at the touch.

"Better?" Remus mumbled in a sleepy voice that Sirius found endearing.

"Yeah," Sirius sighed, as Remus pulled his arm around Sirius's waist again.

As he was laying there, with Remus wrapped around him, he felt an unfamiliar feeling growing in his chest. He felt warm and light. He felt…

Oh.

Oh.

The realization crashed down on him. He liked him. He liked Remus.