Chapter Text
Remus sits tucked in the corner of a cafe, sipping an overpriced latte he doesn't really like and watches out the window as the world moves around him.
It's a dreary day, but that isn't anything new. The London fog is heavier than usual as misty rain drizzles over the streets. It's the kind of rain Remus hates. The kind that soaks through your clothes and chills you to the bone but it looks so unassuming through the dirty window. Black umbrellas pass by as people hurry back and forth to their jobs and lives and the rush of it all makes Remus feel impossibly inferior.
The bell above the door lets out a little jingle as someone enters and Remus is brought back into the cafe from the outside. He looks up to be met with a grin that lights up the entire room and threatens to push the rainy weather straight out of London.
"Sorry I'm late," Sirius says, flicking his wet hair back with his hand and falling into the seat opposite Remus. "Missed the bloody train, so I walked."
"You didn't grab a brolly?"
Sirius lets loose a little laugh and shakes his head, "No. Probably should've though."
He listens to Sirius as he chatters on about the walk here, the assignments he's been putting off, and the score of the footy match he went to with James the night before. Remus only half listens, giving little sounds of acknowledgement where appropriate to keep Sirius talking. He doesn't care about any of it, if he's being honest, but he loves the way Sirius' face lights up when he talks about the things he likes. He can't help but smile when Sirius laughs and he wonders if Sirius notices the splotches of red that are making his cheeks burn.
"Are you drinking coffee?" Sirius asks, surprise pulling his arched, black brows up into his hairline. "Never thought I'd see the day."
"Yes, well, I was up late."
"Were you?" Sirius frowns a bit at that. "I didn't keep you up, did I?"
Remus forces a smile and shakes his head, "No, of course not. I was working on an essay."
He leaves out that he had been working on an essay until he heard the jingle of keys and the squeal of their old door as it opened. Stumbling footsteps and loud gasps and groans filled the air through the gaps of Remus' door and he hadn't been able to concentrate on the benefits of dialectal behavioural therapy any longer.
He leaves out that he listened through their paper-thin walls as he lay in bed, staring up at the dark ceiling, willing the tightness in his cotton pyjama bottoms to go away. But, the low music put on was a tell-tale of what was happening in the room next to his and Remus let his hands wander beneath his pants as he listened to the headboard knock against the wall and the squeaky springs of Sirius' mattress as it bounced rhythmically.
He leaves out that he wanked himself raw to the sound of Sirius' moans and imagined that it was him making the bed pound against the wall and springs squeak. That it was he who was pulling those beautiful sounds from Sirius' throat and leaving those little bitten bruises along his collar bones.
"It's the start of term, how do you already have so much homework?" Sirius laughs, shaking his head as if he can't even imagine it.
Remus shrugs, "Psychology is text-heavy."
"Hey, when you become a world-class shrink, will you do your therapist magic to me?"
"Can't. We're friends—it'd be a conflict of interest."
Sirius pulls a face and hops up from the small table, muttering something about grabbing a coffee and a pastry as he walks away.
Remus doesn't tell him that he'd already analyzed him in every way he could possibly study a person. That he knows what he's feeling with every jerk of his limbs and he knows that Sirius is masking ninety per cent of the time. He doesn't tell him that he thinks about his childhood and wonders, with awe, how Sirius came out without breaking. Remus can tell that he has ADHD that has gone undiagnosed for so long, Sirius probably wouldn't know what to do if he did finally get medicated for it. But, the fact he hasn't had some sort of paranoid, schizophrenic breakdown is almost miraculous.
When Sirius returns to the table, he tosses a small sandwich at Remus and orders him to eat it without complaint. As Remus chews, he listens while Sirius tells him about his hook-up last night and how sub-par it was and how he wishes he could just find someone decent to shag for once.
"It was promising, you know? Jason—er…Joshua?—I can't remember…he was so bloody fit. He had these long fingers and a great arse and he actually had rhythm when he danced, I thought maybe it would translate to the sack."
"It didn't, I'm guessing?"
"It did not," Sirius agrees. "I just want one good lay. I don't think that's too much to ask!"
Remus tries to hide the frustrated sigh that falls past his lips without his permission. He's spent the last four years watching the revolving door of blokes in their flat, many of them never returning again. He wants so badly to jump up and shout, to shake Sirius by the fucking shoulders and just yell in his face that he could be good for him. That he would fuck him so good and so thoroughly that Sirius would forget his own name. He wants to cry at the unfairness of it. At Sirius' ignorance to Remus' obvious pining.
He'd do anything for Sirius, and Sirius will never—has never—picked him.
Why not me?! He wants to shout, Why haven't you seen me? I'm right in front of you!
But, Remus also knows that people don't always take what's in front of them. They fear the change of their mundanity and Sirius fears change more than anyone Remus has ever met. More than anyone Remus has ever studied.
They finish their coffees and sandwiches and talk a bit more about the upcoming weekend and the party James and Lily are having. It seems silly, really, to throw a housewarming party when they've been practically living together for years. But, Remus won't be the one to point that out. He'll show up with a bottle of booze and enjoy the new scenery of the gorgeous little house they've purchased and congratulate his friends on taking a big step toward their lives together.
Then, he'll go home and cover his head with his pillow and wonder if he'll ever get to purchase a little house in the suburbs with someone he loves. With Sirius.
But, it's a ridiculous thought and he knows that, so he'll roll over and ignore the pounding of the bedframe in the next room and try to get some sleep.
Friday comes quickly and brings with it a slight reprieve. Remus has only one class, in the morning, and he's thankful for the extra time he can spend in the library on campus before noon. Before the walls become packed with twenty-somethings that wear large headphones to look trendy and talk in a voice that, in Remus' opinion, is far too loud for a library.
He's sitting at his favourite table, surrounded by notes and open books, a hand shoved into his hair while he writes something down about the effects of benzodiazepines when taken long-term. He thinks he could use a bit of memory loss and delirium, maybe he'd actually be able to get something done if he could keep his mind from constantly wandering back to how Sirius looked this morning. Freshly fucked and freshly showered. It was unfair, really.
The sun has finally decided to make an appearance through the week's worth of shitty weather and long shafts of golden morning light cut through the blinds and light up the table he's at. The warmth feels nice against his face and arms and Remus considers walking back to the flat once he's done. God knows he could use the extra vitamin D and exercise.
Consistent abuse of benzodiazepines can cause the patient to have reduced energy resulting in lethargy and—
The slam of a bag on the end of the table interrupts his next thought and he looks up, glaring at whatever hipster asshole has decided to take up residence at his table.
"I swear I'm going to drop out," Sirius says as he flops into the chair and props his feet up on the table. "I can't take that fucking theory prof anymore."
Remus frowns, "You get your essay back?"
"Look at this shit," Sirius rifles through his black bag, pulling out a crumpled stack of papers. "I barely fucking passed. How? I know that essay was good!"
Remus knew it was, too. He'd been the one to proofread it before Sirius turned it in.
He takes the stapled papers from Sirius' hand and skims over the remarks written on them.
"She said you missed the main topic point."
"I know what she said I missed, but I didn't miss anything. She just didn't fucking read it closely. I talk about Neoclassical for half the fucking pages."
"You talk about how much you dislike that style and why it's overrated," Remus looks up from the papers, an amused smile threatening to tug at his lips. "I take it this wasn't supposed to be a persuasive on why Rococo art is far superior to Neoclassical?"
"It's not a…" Sirius rips the pages from Remus' hands and skims over his own work, an irritated laugh ringing out in the small space between them. "That is what I wrote, isn't it? Fuck. Ah, well, it's still a passing mark, I guess."
Remus can't help the way his head shakes in disbelief and amusement. He would positively dissolve if he was returned a paper with barely passing marks. Just the thought of it constricts his throat. He'd be chucked from Uni because his scholarship would be yanked out from under him and he'd be forced back to that smelly little farm in Wales. He couldn't live back in fucking Wales, now. He wouldn't survive it. He doesn't even like sheep.
"Why are you spiralling?" Sirius asks, shoving the essay back into his bag. "You're the one with perfect marks."
Remus huffs, closing his eyes as he gives his head a tiny shake. "I'm not spiralling."
"Yeah, you are. Get out of your head, Moons. You aren't losing your scholarship anytime soon."
He hates how well Sirius knows him at that moment. He hates that Sirius can tell within four seconds of panicked silence, exactly what fears were trudged up from reading over a barely passing paper. He hates that Sirius can tell how terrified he is of being forced back to that little village, but can't see how fucking badly Remus wants him.
"You almost done here?" Sirius asks, "I was thinking we could have a Chinese before we go to James' tonight."
"Won't there be food there?"
Sirius shrugs, "Probably. But, I'm hungry now and we aren't going until later. I know you haven't bothered to eat anything besides that toast you had this morning."
"I don't really have—"
"I didn't ask if you'd buy me a Chinese, did I? I'll buy, Rem. It's fine."
Remus sighs, knowing that fighting Sirius on the topic of buying takeaway is futile. He checks his phone and sees that it's just past noon, which means the library will begin to fill up quickly and he won't get much work done, anyway.
"Yeah, alright," Remus concedes, packing away the half a dozen books into the rucksack that is threatening to fall apart.
"Shit, really?" Sirius sits up, pure joy written on his face. "I expected way more of a fight."
Remus' stomach growls on cue and he raises his eyebrows at Sirius as if to say clearly you're right and I'm starved. Sirius just smirks as Remus' stomach continues to rumble and helps Remus pack up the last of his things.
"Whatever happened to that bint you were seeing?" Sirius asks, with a mouthful of lo mein as he waved his chopsticks around at Remus.
Remus pulls his feet up to the couch, adjusting his sock so his toe isn't poking out of the hole in the top anymore. He chews slowly, his forehead pinched together as he swallows the spicy chicken.
"Emmeline?"
"Yeah, I think so. That pretty one that works with Lily."
Emmeline really was very pretty, Remus thinks, fondly. She'd come along to a pub night with Lily and her big, full smile had caught Remus' attention. She was curvy and soft and had made for a few fun nights over the course of a couple of weeks. Not to mention she gave wicked good blow jobs and hadn't thought twice about it whenever Remus asked that they met at her place. It was easier to pretend if he didn't have to run into Sirius afterwards.
Remus shrugs, pushing an entire dumpling into his mouth. Sirius just stares at him, clearly not satisfied with Remus' lack of an answer.
"It was fun," he says, reaching across the coffee table to grab his beer. "But, it was just fun."
"So, no sparks or wedding bells?" Sirius teases, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.
"Definitely not," Remus snorts. "She was fun, but that was all."
"Haven't seen her around much, is all," Sirius explains. "I just wondered if it ended badly or something."
He's fishing for more information and not even doing it subtly. Remus shakes his head, "Not at all. She met some bloke at a pub, I think. Told me about it and since we weren't really together…" Remus trails off with another shrug. "Didn't really matter, I guess."
"That's a shame," Sirius frowns, taking a long pull of his beer and downing half of it in one go. "I thought you were nice together."
"You never saw us together," Remus laughs.
"Because you never brought her over," Sirius' tone switches from light to accusatory and it makes Remus uncomfortable.
He squirms a bit in his seat and sets the container he'd been eating out of on the table in front of the couch.
"I'm sorry I don't feel the need to bring every one of my conquests into my home," Remus says. And he knows it's biting a bit of a low blow, but he's getting frustrated with this conversation and wants it to end. Sirius has never taken an interest in his love life before. Perhaps if he had, he'd see why Remus never brought anyone around.
He'd have noticed that since Emmeline, there hadn't been anyone to bring around.
"You haven't brought anyone around since that twat Benjy," Sirius pushes, ignoring Remus' biting comment.
Remus rolls his eyes with a huff, "Because there hasn't been anyone significant since Benjy."
"Benjy was significant? I thought he was a bit of an arsehole."
"We dated for a year and a half, Sirius. I would call that a significant relationship, yes."
Remus, if he possessed the courage to tell Sirus exactly how significant Benjy was, would tell him that Benjy had left Remus high and dry when he realized that Remus was in love with his flatmate. That Benjy had been not only beautiful—with dark, smooth skin and eyes like melted chocolate and the body of a fucking Olympic athlete—but, that he was incredibly perceptive and observant.
Benjy had figured out that Remus was in love with Sirius before Remus had even considered it.
"I still think he was an arsehole. Did he ever even tell you the real reason he dumped you?"
Remus wants this conversation to end. Because in a fit of existential crisis, Remus had told his friends that Benjy had just up and left. That he hadn't really given Remus a good reason. They all sympathized and accused Benjy of cheating.
In reality, Benjy had kissed Remus' forehead so sweetly that it hurt and told him "I can't love you if you love someone else."
And Remus hadn't been able to refute it.
"I haven't talked to him," Remus admits, leaning back against the soft cushions of their worn-out couch, a hand splayed over his full belly.
"I'd love to punch him in the fucking mouth. If I ever see him—"
"Can we please talk about literally anything else?" Remus interrupts, a small headache beginning to form behind his eyes.
Sirius grumbles something about strangling Benjy and flops back on the couch, shoving his feet under Remus' thighs and grabbing for the remote to flick the telly onto something mindless and easy to watch.
Remus tries not to focus on the warmth of Sirius' feet as they burn through the back of his trousers and make his chest feel tight.
The door to James and Lily's house swings open and Remus is pulled into an awkwardly long hug by James. He smells a bit like garlic and sweat and Remus feels some excitement at the thought that James has been cooking. He'd sell his very soul for the dal makhani he knows is probably simmering on the hob.
"Miss you, Moony," James says, finally releasing him long enough to usher him through the door.
"I just saw you last week," Remus laughs.
"It's not the same anymore," he pulls Sirius into the house behind Remus, ruffling Sirius' hair with a cackle as Sirius shoves him away. "I miss just walking a few doors down to hang out with you."
"This place is nice though," Remus says, looking around.
And, it truly is. A beautiful little house with fresh paint and plush carpet. Everything is neutral and so grown-up looking that it almost feels like a foreign land. But, then, Remus spots a painting of a dog on a unicycle hanging on the wall near the hall and realizes that while the couches and carpet are new, the paintings and photographs are not. And, he feels a little more at ease.
Lily comes in wearing oven mitts, telling James something looks smoky and James yelps and runs away, leaping over the low wall separating the living room from the kitchen.
She beams at Remus, her round, green eyes crinkling around the edges with happiness as she wraps her arms around his waist and hugs him tightly.
"Miss you being right down the hall," she mimics James' earlier sentiment, pushing up on her tip toes to press a small kiss on Remus' cheek. "Can we set up a weekly coffee date or something? It feels weird to not hang out every day. I don't like it."
Remus hugs her back tightly and accepts the peck on his cheek with a smile. "I'd like that."
"Red, your house is nice," Sirius says enthusiastically. "The couches don't look broken at all."
She steps away from Remus to give Sirius the same treatment, smiling happily as she talks about her new furniture and new kitchen gadgets that James insisted they buy. She shows them around the house and she beams with pride as they enter each room.
They deserve nice things, Remus thinks. They deserve every bit of happiness they have.
They all gather around the table as James serves up heaping plates of fragrant rice and spicy lentils. Steaming naan bread that fills the air with garlic and sweet and tangy sauce made from onions and tamarind and Remus thinks he does very much miss this.
A bottle of wine moves around the table as everyone finishes eating and chatting and James informs them they wanted to keep the dinner small, but others will be over soon. Peter had been invited to dinner but had to work late, and Remus makes sure to set aside a bowl of leftovers for him in the fridge. He's feeling a bit tipsy since they opened the second bottle of wine and helps Lily finish the dishes. He washes while she dries and puts everything away and it feels strange that he doesn't know where anything goes in this new space.
A couple of hours later, Remus finds himself teetering on the pleasant side of drunk as he stumbles outside into the small back garden to see if he can bum a fag off one of the few people smoking out there. He'd given up the habit a few years ago, but the booze coursing through his system is demanding a bit of nicotine and he's truly too bladdered to really question it.
"Figured you'd come out here sooner or later," Sirius' voice floats to his ears from somewhere on his right and Remus turns to see him lounged across a small bench on the back porch, a cigarette hanging from his lips and his legs spread out before him.
Remus thanks whatever higher power there is that his cheeks are already ruddy from the alcohol and he snaps his fingers at Sirius in a silent demand.
Sirius smirks and pulls out his pack, plucking a thin stick from the carton and lighting it with the one he already has lit between his lips. He passes it to Remus and budges up, patting the spot next to him.
Remus places the cigarette between his lips and takes a long drag, trying not to think about how the filter kind of tastes like the gin Sirius had been drinking, and he folds himself up in the spot next to Sirius.
"Good party," Sirius hums, a long stream of smoke billowing out to dissolve in the night sky.
Remus' head bobs, "Mm, yeah. They seem happy. It's a nice place."
"It is nice."
They sit in silence for a while, both watching as people they don't really know walk in and out of the house, smiling and laughing and bumping shoulders with other people they don't really know. Remus' eyes keep getting distracted by the sharp jawline of Sirius' profile and he blinks a few times, trying to get his shit together before he gets caught staring.
Sirius heaves a great sigh, a slight frown marring his beautiful face. "You ever feel stuck?"
Remus straightens up from his hunched position and turns to purposefully look at Sirius this time. "What do you mean?"
"Like, I don't know," Sirius waves his hand around, a burning fag still stuck between his elegant fingers. "Everyone else here just seems so put together, you know? Even Pete has a salary now. And, we're still in school, just…I don't know…just bumbling through life."
"Well," Remus begins, stubbing out his cigarette and plucking his plastic cup from the spot on the ground he'd set it earlier. He takes a long gulp of the whisky ginger and leans back against the wood. "I'm getting a Masters, and I'll probably go for my Doctorate so I'll be in school forever. And, if you'd quit changing your bloody major, you would have graduated two years ago."
Sirius barks out a laugh and it catches the attention of a small group all crowded around a single spliff a few feet away. He knocks his shoulder into Remus', the smile still dancing on his lips.
"I hated classics," he says as if that solves everything.
"So, you went into Art history? It's literally just classics but with pictures."
Sirius graces the air with another laugh and shakes his head, "I like art more than I ever liked reading. I'm a visual person, you know?"
Remus does know. He knows exactly what it feels like to be observed by those unfairly gorgeous, steel-grey eyes. His drunken brain idly wonders if Sirius likes to fuck with the lights on before he blinks a few times and remembers he's sitting right next to him and Sirius is still talking about something and he's missed at least half of it.
"...I mean, it's great that Pete has such a good job. I'm happy for him. And James got that spot with the footy league—I'd kill for that. Just rubbing down blokes all day."
Remus can't help the laughter that bursts from his chest, "He isn't rubbing down blokes all day, you twat. He's a sports physiotherapist."
"Yeah, that's what I said."
Remus laughs loudly. Louder than he'd ever dare to let joy spill from him, lest it tempts the universe to remind him that his life is not a particularly joyful one. Sirius' face lights up as Remus laughs and he looks a bit confused but gleeful to have been the reason that Remus is guffawing like a donkey.
It wasn't that hilarious of a joke, Remus knows, but he's drunk and he's giddy and Sirius is funny.
"You good?" Sirius asks, a small, amused smile on his lips.
"I'm ratted, I think," Remus admits, finishing off the last of his whisky. "And I have to piss. You want a refill?"
"Ta, cheers Moony."
Remus gives a wobbly sort of nod as he hoists himself to his feet and snatches Sirius' cup away. He stumbles into the kitchen first, placing the cups on the top of the refrigerator so they don't get pitched in the bin while he relieves himself.
There's a line of a few people at the bathroom and James taps his shoulder, pointing to the door of his bedroom.
"You can use ours, Moony. Just don't let anyone else in there, yeah? Lily will have my head."
Remus smiles gratefully at James and squeezes past the people up the stairs to the master bedroom, slipping in and quickly closing the door behind him.
He takes his time to really appreciate it. He'd seen the room a few hours ago when Lily toted them around the house to show them every nook and cranny of the place, but it had just been a quick peek. He'd felt weird staring around a bedroom that wasn't his.
But, he looks at the big, comfortable bed with some envy now, and wonders if he'll ever have the need for a bed big enough to share with someone. He can see lotions and little baubles on the side of the bed that he assumes is Lily's, given the delicate pyjamas laying over the duvet. James' bedside table is barren except for an alarm clock and the cord to his phone charger. Remus wonders when James got so organised, so grown up. They were twenty-six years old but Remus still felt like a teenager trying to fumble through life and figure his shit out.
He smacks around the bathroom wall, looking for a light switch, and when he's finally relieved himself, he stares at his reflection as he washes his hands. He even looks a mess. Like he couldn't put himself together if he tried. The scar that cuts across the bridge of his nose certainly doesn't help, but his hair is in desperate need of a trim and his skin looks dry.
Remus makes his way back into the kitchen and pours his own drink, finishing off the bottle of whisky on the counter. He makes Sirius his gin and tonic and carefully shoulders his way through the people to the back door, smiling a thanks to the dark-haired man that pushed it open for him.
He heads back to the bench and stops in his tracks, sloshing a bit of both drinks over the lip of the cups, ignoring the splash of the liquor against the wood of the porch.
Sirius is pressed into the corner by a man with strawberry-blonde hair. His lips are latched onto the spot next to Sirius' adam's apple and Sirius' head is thrown back. His hands are roaming over the other man's body and Remus suddenly feels quite nauseous. He clears his throat, stepping into the small space, and sets Sirius' cup down on the bench.
"G and T," Remus mumbles, turning away to get the fuck out of here as quickly as possible.
"Oh shit—thanks, Rem," Sirius says, his voice a bit husky.
Remus doesn't look over his shoulder. He goes back inside the house and sets his full cup on the breakfast bar and collects his jacket. He gives Lily a quick peck on the cheek, hugs James and Peter and Marlene, says a couple of words to Dorcas and Alice and Frank…
And then he leaves, speeding his way toward the nearest tube stop.