London, May 14, 2020

I wanna love you, but I better not touch
I wanna hold you, but my senses tell me to stop
I wanna kiss you, but I want it too much
I wanna taste you, but your lips are venomous poison
You're poison running through my veins
You're poison

I don't wanna break these chains

Poison

Later that afternoon, The Marauders had set up camp in a small rehearsal space at their label's quarters since their own space was too far away for them to get in any quality time before they had to be at the TV studio. But their time here was a waste too, because it turned out that the mixer had some loose connection or other, and the guy responsible was on vacation (of course), so James and Fabian had taken it upon themselves to try and fix it.

Sirius couldn't be bothered today, so he sat in the big love seat by the window, idly picking his guitar strings while the others tried to locate the source of the issue. Gideon was using the time to adjust the hoop tension on the borrowed kit, which had frankly seen better days. Sirius gazed out the window as he played, not really seeing the cherry tree that was starting to drop its petals. His thoughts were (not for the first time since that morning) on Remus, and he wasn't paying attention to his hands. They hadn't made plans to see each other again, but Sirius already knew that he would inevitably return for more. How could he not after the night they'd just shared? It was a strange feeling, to wake up next to someone and not immediately want to chuck them out. Racking his brain all day, he couldn't find a single time in his life where he that hadn't been his first instinct, but Remus had looked so right sleeping in that bed. Had even made Sirius feel right sleeping in it, which was a feat in and of itself. Albeit a scary one.

He had been looking forward to this tour since they came back from the States, which had been a sort of short warm-up tour, playing smaller venues and a few festivals. The majority of their fan base was still in Europe, but they were slowly gaining traction overseas as well. He hated being back home, hated being stuck in one place; he needed to be on the move, on to the next thing before dust could settle on the first, but now, Monday morning was hurtling towards him like a freight train, and he wished he had more time…. To do what, he wasn't exactly sure. Some part of him still wanted to stick his tail between his legs and run, but it was becoming weaker and weaker every second he spent with Remus.

"Going medieval, Black?"

"Hmm?" Blinking, he looked up to see Fabian sniggering down at him.

"That dinosaurian pop metal shite." Fabian nodded at his guitar.

Sirius instantly stopped playing. "I know you did not just insult Alice Cooper."

"Oh yeah, sorry, I forgot—he's like your fashion icon, innit?" Fabian snorted. "Don't worry, in forty years' time you're gonna look exactly like him!"

"Piss off, Prewett," Sirius said and flicked his guitar pick at his face.

Fabian didn't budge. "So, who's on your mind?" he said in an annoyingly suggestive tone and squeezed himself into the love seat next to Sirius, laying his head on his shoulder.

"What d'you mean?" Sirius shifted, thoughts still struggling to catch up to the present.

"Come on—you're like an open book when it comes to your music choices, so who's your Poison?"

Sirius cursed himself and his transparency. "No one. Just feeling sentimental, I guess." He shrugged and took up the riff again to cover his embarrassment. He wanted to point out that the song was actually about drugs, but that would hardly help the situation. Fabian (and James) didn't need to know how bad the itch was today— how tempting it was to calm all this messy desire and restless confusion with a few well-chosen chemicals. It would be so easy….

Fabian drew back and fixed him with a calculating look. "Y'know, we're having drinks at the Hog's Head with some of the old gang after the gig on Friday. You should join us. Gwen's in town for the weekend," he added innocently.

"Oh? Yeah, I might…" Sirius said, having no intention of going—especially if Gwen were involved. "How's the troubleshooting coming along?" he said, keen to change the subject.

James straightened, cables wrapped around his neck and hair standing on end because of how many times he had run his hands through it in frustration by now.

"This could take a while. I think I'm gonna have to take this thing apart," he told them, indicating the mixer. He called to Peter who was passing by the door in that moment, busy typing on his mobile, "Oi, Pete! Could you be a dear and run out and get us some coffee?"

Peter stopped with a look of irritation, "What's wrong with the coffee we have here?"

"That shite doesn't even qualify—I need some high-octane fuel if I'm gonna get this ruddy thing working!"

"Can't you get someone else to do it?" Peter complained.

"You're here." James shrugged. "Sirius, if you're done wanking, come gimme a hand. I need your brain."

With a long-suffering groan, Sirius thrust his guitar at Fabian and got up from his half-lying position.

"This isn't part of my job description…" Peter grumbled and tucked his phone into his back pocket as he left.

"No Starbucks!" Sirius called after him, gesturing for James to help him turn the heavy piece of equipment over.

Less fun, but a much healthier distraction. And Remus was surely a much healthier poison.

A/N: Apologies for the short chapter - next week will be longer!

Lyric credits:

Alice Cooper - Poison