nothing
“Could you… elaborate, perhaps?” Professor Keating asked.
Sirius shrugged, glancing about the empty classroom. “Elaborate how?”
“Well, ‘turn over a new leaf’ could mean a lot of things, Sirius. Are you trying to… improve yourself?”
“Er- yes. That,” Sirius said. “Not that I need that much improvement, for the record. But, like. Maybe a little bit of improvement.”
The professor looked amused. “Alright. Well, I’d suggest you start by making amends.”
Sirius paused. “Like, apologizing?”
“Yes,” Professor Keating said. “Usually when people are trying to improve themselves, it’s when they’ve wronged others, so…”
“No, I get that, but…” Sirius wrinkled his nose. “Don’t you think apologies are kind of… useless, though?”
The professor frowned. “How do you mean?”
“Well, like, if you were really sorry, you wouldn’t have done it in the first place.”
“I think that’s sort of a reductive way of viewing it, Sirius,” the professor said. “Sometimes we do things without thinking of how they’ll affect other people. Or, even when we do know how they’ll affect people, we realize afterward that we’ve done wrong and regret it. Obviously, it would be ideal if we didn’t do what we did, but you can’t change the past, can you? You just have to move forward and live with it, and apologizing is the best way of doing that.”
Sirius considered this. He hated apologizing. He fucking hated it. At first it was just because he felt he’d done nothing wrong, but even now, knowing that he’d messed up a bit, the idea of apologizing just made his skin crawl. He supposed the professor’s reasoning made sense, he did regret some things, and he did want to move forward, but still. He just didn’t like the thought of it.
“If I were to apologize…” he said slowly. “How would I start?”
The professor shrugged. “Any number of ways. Make a list in your mind of everyone you’ve wronged and start there, perhaps.”
The list of people Sirius owed apologies to was probably pretty long. Apologizing to the big ones- Reggie, Remus… that was going to be tough. But perhaps he could start with the easy ones. Reggie’s friends that he’d been rude to at the Incident; Marlene’s girlfriend and that blonde girl who fancied Reggie. He could at least try that, he thought.
Contrary to popular belief, Sirius Black did possess some level of self-awareness. He was aware of how cool and funny and likable he was. He was aware of the fact that everyone he encountered either wanted to be him or sleep with him. But he was also aware of how much of an asshole he could be.
He couldn’t really help it. It took particular thought and effort to be nice, but being mean was just so easy, almost instinctual. He wasn’t really sure why.
No, scratch that. He was pretty sure he knew why. He’d left Grimmauld place about nine months ago, and the more time that elapsed since his departure, the more he found himself thinking about everything that happened there. And not just the total shitshow surrounding his actual departure, but everything , even the old stuff that happened when he and Reggie were really little. He’d thought he was done with it, but it was as if his fight with Reggie had reopened all these old wounds and dragged all his shit up.
Thinking back on the things he and Reggie had said to each other, he found himself wondering if growing up like that was the reason they were like this now. It was like Grimmauld place insisted on haunting him, even after he’d left it behind. Which was fucking stupid, Sirius thought, because people were supposed to haunt houses , not the other way around.
He wished he could talk about it.
Logically, he knew he could. James was always there to listen, and he knew most everything that went on in that house anyway. But James’s family was so perfect, they were so happy, and Sirius knew that, though he’d listen and almost certainly make Sirius feel better, he wouldn’t really get it.
He had Remus, too. Remus was still something of a mystery to Sirius. He was nice and smart and gentle but Sirius felt this sort of underlying darkness from him- maybe not that his parents were like Sirius’s, but there was just something to him that told Sirius he may be able to understand better than James could. And Remus already suspected that something was off about Sirius’s childhood. Not to mention he was constantly telling Sirius it was okay to talk to him.
The problem with the Remus option was that Remus was fucking perfect. Hanging out with Remus was perfect. Snogging Remus and then falling asleep on him was perfect. Getting drunk with him, reading poetry with him, sitting next to him in class, it was all fucking perfect and Sirius couldn’t help but feel like crossing that line with Remus would take away that perfection. Like, maybe he would realize how fucked up Sirius was and he wouldn’t like him anymore. Or, worse, he’d stay with him, but only because he felt bad. Sirius couldn’t risk that.
That, of course, left Reggie. Reggie, who he knew understood because he’d fucking been there. Reggie, who he’d screamed at and hit but also who he loved more than anything in the fucking world. Reggie, who always, always took their parents' side.
Reggie, who came back from winter holiday shaky and twitching and ten pounds lighter.
He’d really never considered how hurt Reggie would be by his actions. Looking back on it- he’d been pretty fucking cruel to Reggie in the past. After he was sorted into Slytherin, it sort of felt like he’d lost his little brother to his parents, and he’d been quick to loop Reggie in with the rest of them. Reggie had had that cold, empty glaze to his eyes for a while now, but Sirius had been treating him like he was empty for far longer. The divide between him and Reggie was of his own making, and if something was to be done about it, Sirius had to be the one to fix it.
It was after his conversation with Remus on the rooftop- in which he’d spilled some truly embarrassing shit, and then pretended to forget about it the next morning- that it really hit him. He needed to change. Professor Keating had been the first person he went to for advice. Sirius had always felt that the whole thing about adults being wiser just because they’re old was bullshit, but he had to admit that he trusted the professor’s advice far more than any one of his friends. Plus, he hardly knew Sirius, so it wasn’t like he would try to read into things and make any sorts of assumptions about his life.
Sirius apologized to Dorcas later that week, and Pandora the week after at Dorcas’s party. He was ridiculously nervous about it and after he practically forced the word out, neither of them seemed to know what to do about it. He found, though, that he did feel a little lighter afterwards. Perhaps the professor had been right.
He woke up the next morning with Remus in his bed and it felt fucking amazing. They were both terribly hungover, so that part didn’t feel amazing, he supposed, but he’d slept all the way through the night. He’d had trouble sleeping lately, ever since his fight with Reggie, and usually drinking was the only way to get himself to completely knock out. Even then, sometimes he’d wake up in the middle of the night with fucked up dreams or have to throw up and then have to deal with the next morning’s hangover on like, two hours of sleep. It was so shitty. And he didn’t even understand why it kept happening. He wasn’t even in that fucking house anymore, Merlin’s sake. He was perfectly safe here.
But with Remus, he’d slept like a rock all through the night. The subsequent hangover was a small price to pay for a night of actual, peaceful sleep. He wished he could sleep next to Remus every night.
The end of Sirius’s divination class always lined up perfectly with the end of Remus’s charms class, and Remus had taken to waiting outside Sirius’s classroom for him to come out. It had been a little over a week since Dorcas’s party.
“Hey,” Sirius said when he spotted Remus hanging around outside the doorway.
He fell into step beside Remus, walking in the direction of Gryffindor tower. His hand brushed against the arm of Remus’s jumper. “Peter has class right now, right?” Sirius asked.
Remus glanced down at him and nodded, smiling.
They were snogging the moment they stepped through Remus’s door.
They snogged a lot now. Almost every time they were alone together. Sirius knew they should probably be more careful, but he couldn’t help it. Sometimes kissing Remus felt like being kissed for the first time. Like he’d been doing it wrong all those other times.
Remus slammed the door behind Sirius, pinning him lightly against the back of the door with a hand on his wrist as he kissed him. Just that simple contact was enough to make Sirius weak in the knees.
Remus paused, loosening his grip. “Good hurt or bad-”
“Good, good,” Sirius panted.
He was always doing that; asking if Sirius was okay.
Sirius wasn’t sure how he felt about it. It was sweet and well-intentioned, but for some reason, the thought of Remus caring so much that he’d stop to make sure he was alright in the middle of a fucking snog session made him feel strange. He wanted to tell Remus to knock it off, that snogging wasn’t about being all sappy and sweet and stuff, but he had to admit that sometimes he found it nice. Strange and unfamiliar, but nice.
A few minutes later, Sirius was yanking his jacket back on and Remus patted down his hair- his jumper always stayed on, to Sirius’s disappointment, though he pretended not to care.
“I talked to Dorcas,” Remus said. “She said Marlene’s hanging out at Slytherin again tonight. She said we’re welcome to come along as long as we don’t bother anybody.”
“Ugh,” Sirius groaned. He hated the Slytherin common room. They had no fucking clue how to throw a party. The alcohol selection was great, but what sort of party didn’t have music? Or dancing? Fucking lame. “Ugh,” he said again. “Fuck. We gotta go.”
“What? Why?”
“Reggie’ll be there! Maybe he’ll let me talk to him this time!”
“Sirius-”
“ Remus , I made him laugh last time, remember?” Sirius sighed. “Look, we’ll just go for a little bit and get some firewhiskey and if Reggie doesn’t turn up in the first hour or so we can leave? Okay? It’s just- I gotta keep trying, y’know?”
Remus sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Okay. Alright. We can go.”
“What’s wrong?” Sirius frowned. “Look, I know you don’t like Slytherin. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, but-”
“No, no, it’s not that, Sirius,” Remus said. “It’s just- this whole Regulus thing- you keep getting your hopes up and all he does is shoot you down, over and over. I just hate seeing the way he treats you, y’know, it’s just hard.”
Sirius bristled. “Yeah, well I’m fucking living it, Remus, you don’t think it’s hard for me, too?”
“I- I didn’t mean it like-”
“Okay, okay, I didn’t mean to snap,” Sirius said quickly. “I just- I need to keep trying. He’ll have to talk to me eventually, right?”
Remus looked conflicted. He didn’t answer.
The party was, predictably, fucking miserable. Marlene was there, but she was all over Dorcas, leaving Sirius and Remus to sit on their couch alone. Sirius wasn’t even drunk. He should be at his room snogging Remus, and instead he was in this dingy basement of a common room, surrounded by drunk children, stone-cold sober and looking around for his brat of a baby brother. It was all so stupid.
Evan and Barty were here. Dorcas was here. Pandora was here. So where the fuck was Reggie?
“If I’m gonna be here, I need a drink,” Sirius declared.
“Barty has a closet full of liquor,” Remus said. “Dorcas showed it to me last time. It’s in him and Regulus’s room.”
“Wait- you know where Reggie’s room is? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Er-”
“That’s probably where he is, Remus,” Sirius said excitedly.
“Okay, alright, but I don’t really think he’s going to be terribly excited to talk to you if he thinks you’re barging into his room.”
“Look, I’ll just go get a bottle from the closet and if I happen to see him in the room, I’ll say something,” Sirius said. “It’ll be fine.”
Remus worried his lip. “Alright…” he said hesitantly.
Remus led him to Reggie’s door, which was cracked open, and paused outside it. “It’s just the closet in there,” he said. He still seemed hesitant.
Sirius peered through the crack in the door. It didn’t look like Reggie was inside. “Go back, make sure no one steals our couch,” he said. “I’ll be right over.”
He didn’t bother to watch Remus walk back, instead taking a hesitant step into the room, pushing the door open. It was empty. Reggie’s side of the room was, unsurprisingly, void of any personality save for a huge bookshelf and stacks of books that made his side of the room instantly recognizable. The curtains were pulled back around his bed, his covers neatly drawn, robes stacked and folded on his dresser. His wand sat on top of a book and quill on his nightstand.
Sirius sighed. Where the fuck was the kid, if he wasn’t at the party or in his room? Sirius turned toward the closet, and, through the half-open door, spotted Reggie. His heart leapt. Reggie was seated on the floor in the dim light, knees drawn to his chest, engrossed in some book. Sirius smiled to himself. Merlin, that was just like him to sit in a closet to read instead of on a bed like any normal person. He took a step towards the closet. “Reggie,” Sirius said.
Reggie’s eyes shot up at the sound of his voice, widening when he met Sirius’s gaze. He was on his feet in an instant. “Sirius? What are you doing here?”
Sirius treaded carefully. Reggie’s guard was already up. “Just getting a drink,” he said gently. “Not trying to bother you.”
Reggie eyed him carefully, but stepped to the side to make room for Sirius to enter. It was a pretty big closet, bigger than the Gryffindor ones. He took a step inside. Sirius could hardly imagine they could drink all of this liquor in just one year. He was just about to make a comment on it when a loud bang made him jump in shock. The room was engulfed in darkness.
Sirius whirled around. The door had slammed shut behind him.
“You closed the door?” Reggie hissed urgently through the dark.
“I didn’t!” Sirius said, thrown off by the panic in his tone.
“Why did you close the door?”
“I didn’t!” Sirius cried. “It just closed behind me, stupid thing. Must’ve been the wind.”
“The wind? In a dungeon? Merlin, you- you fucking idiot!” Reggie spat.
Alright, so he was in a fucking mood. “Merlin, Reggie,” Sirius said. “Relax, alright?” He reached blindly for the handle. “I can just open-” He twisted the doorknob. It didn’t move. “The fuck?” he mumbled. He jiggled the knob again. Nothing.
He turned to face where he presumed Reggie was. Nothing was visible in the pitch-black, but he could just imagine what he looked like right now, his little unimpressed glare and arms crossed before his chest.
“Alright, alright,” Sirius said. “What’s the deal? It automatically locks or something?”
Reggie didn’t reply. Sirius could only hear his soft breathing in the dark.
“Okay, I get it, you’re mad at me. Come on. How do we get out of here?”
Silence. Concern nagged at Sirius’s mind.
“Reggie? Hello? You alive?” He reached out to tap Reggie on where he presumed his arm was.
The moment his hand brushed against his robe, Reggie jumped, slapping his hand away. “ What?” He hissed.
“ What yourself! You still alive over there? Get us out of here!”
“I can’t ,” Reggie spat. “Barty charmed the closet, he’s the only one who can open it.”
Sirius stewed in that thought for a moment of bewildered silence.
“Reggie,” he said finally. “It’s your fucking room. You can’t open your own fucking closet? What were you even doing in here anyways?”
“Well, nobody knows about this closet but our friends and I thought if I sat in here I’d get some peace and quiet, but apparently not!”
Reggie went quiet again. Sirius wished he could see his face; he couldn’t quite tell if it was a pouting, bratty silence or an actually-upset silence. He sighed, shaking his head.
“I always knew that Barty kid was bad news, from the first day I knew he was a bad influence, I tried to warn you-”
“Merlin’s sake, here we go-”
“I”m just saying! What kind of fifteen-year-old needs this much alcohol? And since when did you even drink? Or smoke?”
“Ugh, like you didn’t do that when you were my age.”
“Yeah, I’m the oldest, I can do whatever I want. You’re supposed to be the perfect one! Swear to Merlin, if you get alcohol poisoning or lung cancer of any of that bullshit-”
“I don’t know why you give a shit about me all of a sudden-”
“I always gave a shit about you, you were just too busy licking mother’s boots to see!”
The ensuing silence stretched just long enough for the regret to set in.
“Can we not do this, Sirius?” Reggie asked in a small voice.
Sirius rubbed his forehead, sighing. He was supposed to be better now, and in the first two minutes of being locked in a closet with his brother (which, granted, was a very specific circumstance which he never could have anticipated) he was already yelling. “Okay, Reggie,” he said. “I’m- I’m-” he had to force the word out. “I’m sorry for yelling. Let’s just- let’s just be calm, yeah?”
Reggie was silent.
“Are you okay?” Sirius asked, then immediately cringed. Asking Reggie if he was okay had set him off last time. He braced himself.
“I’m fine,” Reggie huffed, in a tone that was absolutely pouty and bratty but showed no signs of being genuinely upset. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Sirius let out a breath, relieved that he hadn’t set him off again. “Well, I just figured… y’know. You’ve always been afraid of the dark.”
Sirius smirked as Reggie huffed again.
“Yeah, when I was five . I’m not afraid of it anymore. Stop being stupid.”
“Whatever you say, Reggie,” Sirius teased.
“Shut up,” Reggie said, and even in the pitch-black, Sirius could just picture the expression on his face, furrowed brows and mouth twisted into a pout.
They fell into silence again. He was treading on thin ice, he knew, but Sirius figured, if they were going to be locked in here, might as well fucking talk. He could handle it now, he thought. He was turning over a new leaf and all that.
“Hey, Reggie,” Sirius said gently. “If we’re gonna be here, like, I think we should talk about it.”
“No,” Reggie said immediately.
“Listen, okay? I know that we said, like, the very worst things, but now… like, at least we got it out there, right? I feel like we can talk about it now.”
“No,” Reggie repeated.
Sirius drew in a deep breath, trying to stave off the frustration. “Okay,” he said. “Okay, then… then maybe we should talk about… the other thing.”
Reggie took a long pause. “What other thing?”
“Y’know, the… er…” Sirius struggled for the right word. He didn’t know what to call it. “Fuck. The, y’know… I- what happened to us. At home.”
There was another long silence on Reggie’s end, longer than the previous one. “What do you mean?”
“Like, at home. Everything that went on with mother and father. Like, something always felt off, but lately I’ve been feeling like… like the whole thing was off. I keep having all these crazy dreams and memories and stuff and… I don’t- Reggie, I don’t think it was normal. Any of it. I don’t think that’s how families are supposed to be. And- I’ve been sort of- I dunno. I’ve just been trying to make sense of it but I can’t talk to anyone about it. None of them get it. But you… you’re the one person who I know gets it. And I just feel like maybe if we talk about it then we can make sense of it together and we can just… I don’t know. Maybe we’ll feel better.”
He was silent again.
“Reggie?”
“No,” Reggie said suddenly, his voice small and choked off. “I don’t- there’s nothing to talk about. I’m not- there’s nothing. Nothing happened.”
“Hey, it’s okay, we don’t-”
Reggie’s breath was coming in short, panicked bursts. Fuck . This was not how he thought that was going to go.
“Reggie, hey, hey, wait-”
Sirius put a hand on Reggie’s arm. He pulled away instantly.
What the fuck was Sirius supposed to do? When he got like this, usually James would just hug him, or, more recently, Remus would sit with him and tell him to breathe and give him all this nice advice but he couldn't imagine Reggie being receptive to either of those things. What the fuck could he do, then? What did he do to help himself when he got like this?
The answer to that was practically surrounding them. Sirius reached up and blindly plucked a bottle off the shelf, screwing the top off and shoving it into Reggie’s hands. “Here,” he said.
Through his panicked breaths, he heard Reggie take a little gulp, then another.
“Go easy, okay?” Sirius said. Hesitantly, he reached a hand out to rub Reggie’s arm gently. He was shaky, but didn’t pull away from the contact as he took another sip. His breaths began to slow.
His voice was still a little weak when he said, “What happened to you being worried I was gonna get alcohol poisoning?”
Sirius huffed out a laugh. “Well, I’m still kinda worried, but… I dunno, I think when something’s fucked up in your mind it can be just as dangerous as something fucked up in your body,” Sirius said. “And drinking… like, it’s bad for your body, but sometimes it fixes your mind.”
Their father used to drink a lot, too, but that was different. He was just some bloody alcoholic. Sirius wasn’t an alcoholic, he needed to drink. How else was he supposed to shut his brain up and relax?
“You, uh… you okay now?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Reggie said. His voice still shook, but his breathing had mostly stabled out. “Sorry, I just- that happens sometimes. When I think too much, or… I dunno. Nevermind.”
“No, it’s fine,” Sirius said quickly. “That’s normal. Totally normal.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Happens to everybody.” Sirius reached for the bottle in Reggie’s hand and pulled it gently from his fingers. “That’s why we have this stuff.”
Reggie huffed out a shaky little laugh while Sirius took a swig. The alcohol burned his throat pleasantly as it went down.
“I still can’t believe you drink now,” Sirius said absently.
“You do know that I’m an actual person, right?” Reggie said, his voice gaining back some strength.
He’d said it sarcastically, but the words hit surprisingly close to home. It was hard, sometimes, for Sirius to see Reggie as his own person, with his own thoughts and friends and hobbies. He remembered when he was just some little kid following Sirius around like a shadow.
“Does mother know?”
“Merlin, of course she doesn’t know,” Reggie said. “Do you think I have a death wish?”
Well, you did stay in that house, Sirius thought, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. He wasn’t risking sending Reggie into another spiral.
“S’pose not,” Sirius said. “When did you start?”
“Last year,” Reggie said. “Right after the summer.”
Right after Sirius left.
“I wish I was there for your first drink,” Sirius sighed.
“Why?”
“Because I’m the big brother and I just- I’m supposed to be there for this stuff,” Sirius said.
Reggie easily could have taken a shot with that- could’ve pointed out that Sirius had barely even been in his life for the past four years, and that it was Sirius’s own fault that they were like that- but he didn’t. “It’s not like I was there for your first drink,” Reggie huffed.
“Yeah, because you would’ve been a fucking toddler,” Sirius said. “Come on, what was it like? Did you throw up? Did you do something embarrassing?”
“Er, no,” Reggie said. “I was just with Barty and Evan. I took like, one shot. It didn’t even make me drunk, and it tasted gross. That was kind of it.”
“Urgh. Boring.”
“Oh well, sorry I don’t have some exciting story about getting drunk in Gryffindor tower and partying with James Potter or whatever your first time was.”
Sirius squirmed, memories of his own first drink nudging at his mind. He took a swig and let the liquor wash them away. “It’s alright, mine wasn’t very exciting either. Nothing really happened,” he said.
They fell into an uncomfortable silence. Reggie took the bottle back.
“Do you suppose one of your friends locked us in here?” Sirius asked. “I really wouldn’t put it past that Barty kid.”
“Barty wouldn’t do that to me,” Reggie said, as if affronted by the mere suggestion.
“Well, then how did the door close?”
“You closed it, like an idiot.”
“I swear to Merlin, Reggie, I did not close that fucking door. I didn’t even fucking touch it!”
“Okay, okay, just- ugh,” Reggie let out a huff of frustration. “Can we please not talk? I really just don’t want to. Evan or Barty will come by any second and let us out, so let’s just… let’s just wait quietly. Please?”
Sirius took another swig, pushing down the frustration. They were locked in a fucking closet together and Reggie still didn’t want to talk? Granted, he had nearly sent Reggie into a fucking panic attack earlier, but they didn’t have to talk about that . They could just talk about normal brother things.
What did normal brothers talk about? Sirius felt out of practice.
“Or Pandora,” Sirius said suddenly.
Regulus paused. “Huh?”
“Evan or Barty or Pandora will come by.”
“...Er, sure?”
Sirius smirked and nudged Reggie with his elbow. Or at least, where he assumed his side was. “You fancy her,” he teased.
Reggie shoved his arm away. “I do not!”
“Yes, you do. You’re lucky it’s so dark in here, you’re probably blushing so hard right now.”
“Shut up.”
“Awww, little Reggie has a crush. She totally likes you back, by the way.”
“Shut up .”
“You should listen to me, I know this stuff. I’ve scored a lot in my day, Reggie.”
“Gross.”
“Have you snogged her yet?”
Reggie paused for a beat.
“You have! Fuck, how was it?”
“None of your business, that’s how.”
“Are you two, like- together together?”
“No,” Reggie said quickly.
“Alright, then. But… if you do, just make sure you’re safe about… y’know…”
There was a baffled silence. “Huh?”
“Y’know, Reggie. Just make sure you take proper precautions and all that-”
“ Siri! ” Reggie cried. “You are not giving me a sex talk right now!”
“Well, it’s not like mother’s going to!”
“You are so disgusting!”
“Well, don’t be such a baby about it!”
“I’m plugging my ears, I can’t hear you-”
“Just trying to make sure I don’t become an early uncle-”
“Ew, ew, ew, shut up, I can’t hear you-”
“Okay, okay, I’m done,” Sirius said. “I’m done, move your hands.” He reached blindly for Reggie’s hands and pried the one closest to him away from his ear, his other hand still occupied with the liquor bottle. “I’m done talking about sex, Reggie, you can move your hands,” he said loudly.
Reggie did move his hands, if only to slap Sirius’s away. “Get your filthy paws off me,” he huffed. He yanked the liquor bottle out of Sirius’s hand, took a swig, and then handed it back. The silence turned strangely tense as Regulus gulped down the sip.
“Hey, Siri?” he said, his tone almost unnaturally light.
“Mhm?” Sirius asked, his lips to the liquor bottle.
“You fancy Remus.”
Sirius choked. “I- what?” he cried, firewhiskey burning his airways as he coughed. How the fuck did he know? “No, that’s not- where the fuck- no, no, gross, Reggie, just- ugh. No. Ridiculous. I’m not- I’m not queer!”
“Mhm,” Reggie hummed.
“Do you know how many girls I’ve fucked? It’s an astronomical number. Name any girl in our year and I’ve probably snogged her. I am not fucking queer, Reggie.”
“Mhm,” he said again.
“ Mhm ,” Sirius mocked. “The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just, whatever you say.”
“Oh, shut up, I am not queer.”
“So you said.”
“But you don’t believe me.”
“Sirius, when you came home from first year you had all of these muggle magazines with David Bowie and whoever else it is you like and you showed them to me and went on this whole thing about how amazing they were. And they were all blokes. And a bunch of them were shirtless. Who was that other guy, Matt B- something-”
“His name is Marc Bolan and he’s an icon and everybody loves him! And it doesn’t make someone queer to have magazines with men in them! I just like their music!”
“You’re so lucky mother never found those.”
“Well, she probably did after I left,” Sirius sighed wistfully, picturing his mother burning his precious magazines. They’d been parting gifts from Marlene at the end of first year.
“Er, actually, she didn’t,” Reggie said. “I took them out and hid them.”
Sirius blinked. Now that was a fucking surprise. “You did?” he asked softly, smiling. Shit, maybe Reggie did care.
“Yeah, and I almost didn’t,” Reggie said stiffly. “You’re lucky I touched them at all. I worried the pages would all be stuck together.”
“Reggie! ”
Reggie let out a triumphant little chuckle, and Sirius grinned at the noise despite it being at his expense. “So…” he said. “What do you, er…” he wrung his hands together, nerves hitting him all at once. “What do you think of that? Me being into blokes, I mean.”
“Er… I mean, I definitely think it’s kind of weird,” Reggie said tightly. “But you’ve always been weird. It’s not really the weirdest thing about you. And I kind of figured for a while, so… it’s not a surprise.”
Kind of weird. That wasn’t terrible. Sirius would take that.
“Remus is alright, though,” Reggie added. “I mean, apart from terrible taste in men and, y’know, the other thing , I don’t hate him.”
Sirius paused, furrowing his brows. “What other thing?”
“Oh, don’t try to cover for him. It’s obvious when you know the signs. I’m surprised that you’re okay with it, honestly. Most people wouldn’t be.”
Sirius shook his head, baffled. “I- what? What am I okay with?”
“Sirius. Come on.”
“Come on what? What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Sirius. He’s… y’know.”
“No, I don’t know! He’s what?”
“I-” Reggie’s tone turned hesitant. “Are you- do you really not… he’s, y’know…”
“He’s what?”
Reggie paused.
“Reggie. He’s what?”
“He’s… er… tall.”
“He’s tall?” Sirius repeated in bewilderment. “Why the fuck would that be such a problem?”
“Because you’re short. Duh.”
“I’m not short! I’ve been taller than most girls I’ve been with, for the record-”
“Not Marlene.”
“Okay, except for Marlene, but I’ve been taller than everyone else, and by the way, if I’m short, you’re a fucking midget.”
“I’m barely shorter than you,” Reggie whined. “And by the way, I’m still growing. I’ll be taller than you soon, I bet.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Sirius said.
They fell into another silence. Reggie’s breathing beside him was quick and halted. Sirius was a little worried; the kid was afraid of the dark, and not just when he was young.
“You okay, Reggie?” he asked.
“Fine,” Reggie snapped.
It may be best to keep him occupied, Sirius thought. He reaching over to ruffle Reggie’s hair. “ Merlin , your hair is soft. Why doesn’t mine feel like that?”
Reggie slapped his hand away. “Because I actually wash it,” he said brattily. “It’s called hygiene, you should give it a try.”
“Little snob. Like you’re the shining example of hygiene.” He sifted through his memories briefly, trying to think of something that would cheer Reggie up. “I seem to recall you rolling around in the mud-”
“ You pushed me into the mud! And I was seven!”
“I was tagging you! You’re the one who slipped like an idiot and then threw mud at me!”
“Well you’re the one who wanted to go out in the rain in the first place, so you deserved it!”
Sirius smiled just thinking about the memory. Rain pouring from the sky, the sun having just set, sneaking out the front door of the house with Reggie’s little hand clutched in his, asking the kids at the park across the street if they could play, too. It was the first time they’d ever talked to other kids their age. They didn’t even question them, didn’t even seem to care that they wore strange robes and talked in posh French accents in the middle of London. Making friends was so easy at that age. Sirius remembered thinking, while running around, weighed down by waterlogged clothes and being pelted with mud, that he’d never laughed so hard in his life. They’d snuck back inside late that night, soaking wet, shushing each other urgently through giddy giggles. Their mother had found out the next morning, but it didn’t matter much to Sirius. The memory was worth whatever else came after.
Fuck. Why couldn’t he dream about nice shit like that?
He wondered if Reggie was smiling at the memory, too. He wondered if he still got those dimples in his cheeks. He wished he could see him.
“Ever wonder what happened to those muggle kids? You think they still live there?”
“I haven’t seen them in a while,” Reggie said. “They’re probably grown up now, anyways.”
“Well, so are we.”
Reggie paused. “Do you feel grown up?”
It was strange, Sirius thought. He’d felt more grown up at that age than he did now. “Fuck no,” he said. “You?”
“No,” Reggie paused again. “Do you think other people our age feel grown up?”
Sirius bit his lip, considering. “I… don’t know.”
They were silent for a few moments.
“Y’know, technically, I’m an adult now.”
Reggie burst into giggles.
Sirius grinned. “What’s so funny?” he asked, feigning offense.
“You are not an adult,” Reggie said.
“I’m just saying, legally, I am,” Sirius said.
“You have got to be the least-adult adult in the- did you hear that? ”
“Huh?” Sirius asked, startled by the sudden shift in tone.
Reggie pushed past him to the door and knocked against the wooden surface. “Barty!” he said.
There was a movement on the other side of the door. “Reg?” came Barty’s voice.
“Barty!” Reggie said, sighing with relief. “Fucking open the door.”
A choked-off, chortling noise seeped through the wood.
“Is he fucking laughing? ” Sirius whispered.
“It is so not funny, Barty, let us out!”
The door swung open, and blinding white light suddenly filled the closet, overwhelming Sirius’s vision. He squeezed his eyes shut.
Barty continued to chatter. “I was wondering where you- oh. ”
Sirius blinked until Barty came into focus, framed in the light of the doorway, wide-eyed, staring right at Sirius. “Er… you were both in there?” he asked, bewildered. He glanced at Reggie, who was still rubbing at his eyes, his nose scrunched up from the light. “You didn’t like- attack each other, did you? All my bottles are still intact?”
Reggie opened his eyes to cast an exasperated side-glance in Sirius’s direction. Sirius tried to return it, though he was fighting back a smile. He couldn’t help it. It was the way he and Reggie used to look at each other across the table when a family member said or did something absolutely insane. That mutual are you hearing this shit? look.
Reggie huffed dramatically and pushed past Barty out into their room, and Sirius followed right after him down the hallway, hoping that they would get another chance to interact. Dorcas turned to face Reggie when he re-entered the party. “Where have you been?”
“Locked in my closet,” Barty chirped from behind them.
Marlene, who was standing with Dorcas, exchanged a wide-eyed look with her. “Hold on. Both of you?”
“Yup!” Barty said.
Marlene clapped a hand over her mouth and snorted, exchanging another look with Dorcas. “Shit,” she said. “And you’re both alive?”
“Barely,” Sirius said, smiling. He glanced down at Reggie, who was scowling.
He nudged his arm lightly in an attempt to coax a smile or at least some acknowledgment out of him, but it had the complete opposite effect. Reggie pulled back and glared up at him, furrowing his brows. “I’m going to bed,” he said to the floor, turning and walking back towards his room, brushing past Barty in the process.
Sirius stared after him, bewildered. What the fuck was his problem? They’d been laughing together five minutes ago and now back to this bullshit?
Reggie cast Sirius a quick look over his shoulder on his way back to his room, expression cold and indecipherable.
Marlene and Dorcas’s expressions had turned uncomfortable. “Er…” Dorcas said. “Is everything…”
At this moment, Remus sidled up beside Sirius, nudging him in the side. “Hey,” he said. “Where’ve you been?”
Sirius clamped a hand around Remus’s arm, relieved by his presence. “We’re leaving,” he said, throwing a little nod of acknowledgement Marlene and Dorcas’s way before dragging Remus through the crowd towards the exit.
“Oh! Er- okay,” Remus said. He followed Sirius without protest. “Is everything okay?
“I’ll explain later,” Sirius mumbled.
“I still think it was that fucking Barty kid,” Sirius declared on their walk back, having summarized the entire event for Remus.
“He’s Regulus’s friend,” Remus said. “Why would he lock you in a closet together?”
“Probably thought it was funny,” Sirius spat. “He’s always been bad news, that one.”
“It probably just blew shut by accident,” Remus said.
“Blew shut, inside? With no wind?”
Remus sighed. “Well, I don’t know then. No use lingering on it. At least you- well, you talked to each other, right?”
“I fucking thought we were doing good, but apparently fucking not,” Sirius said. “He fucking slapped me away after we left and acted like nothing had even happened. I mean- I thought we had a good fucking talk, y’know? Ugh, he’s fucking impossible.” He shook his head. He should be trying to see the positive, he supposed. “You’re right, Remus. You’re right. We did talk. A lot, actually. It was…” he smiled. “It was really nice, actually. Maybe there’s hope.”
Remus seemed pleased, nodding encouragingly.
Sirius had encouraged James to sleep in Peter’s room again that night so he and Remus would have the room to themselves again. Mostly, he just wanted them to be able to snog and then fall asleep afterwards without worrying about going back to their own rooms.
When he and Remus actually got to snogging, though, something felt a bit off to him. Perhaps it was that he’d spent so much of the night worrying about Reggie, or that he was nervous about falling asleep tonight, or all the other shit that was bothering him.
Usually, if he was snogging someone and in a weird mood he’d just go on and do it anyway but Remus was different. He sensed Sirius’s discomfort almost immediately and pulled away with a look of concern that made Sirius squirm.
“You okay?”
“Ugh,” Sirius groaned. “I’m just- I’m not really feeling it tonight. All that Reggie stuff-” he rubbed a hand through his hair. “I know we’re kinda wasting an opportunity with James out of the room, but I just…”
“It’s fine,” Remus said quickly. “We don’t have to do anything.”
“Okay,” Sirius said, blushing, staring down at the sheets. Dammit, he’d planned out this whole night so they could snog and now he was backing out? Maybe he should just do it anyway. Or get a little drunker.
“Sirius,” Remus said, tapping Sirius’s jaw as if to make him look at him. “It’s really fine. Really. I don’t mind.”
“Alright,” Sirius relented. “Stay, at least. For the night. Er- only if you want to, I mean.”
“Sure,” Remus nodded. “I will.”
Sirius plucked a pair of sweatpants off the floor and shimmied out of his jeans, tossing them aside and yanking the sweatpants up to his hips. He glanced over at Remus, who had looked away awkwardly when Sirius started changing. Very considerate of him, he supposed, but he’d honestly sort of wanted him to look. Whatever. He pulled his shirt off and tossed it onto the floor.
Remus was wearing a jumper and a pair of jeans. Definitely not suitable sleepwear. Sirius gave Remus a once-over before glancing back down at himself. His own sweatpants would be way too small on him. He hopped up and headed over to James’s dresser, sifting through his drawers until he found a pair of pajama pants that he figured would fit Remus.
“Here,” he threw them at Remus.
Remus caught them awkwardly. “Oh, er, I shouldn’t-”
“You’re not sleeping in jeans, Remus,” Sirius said. “And they’re clean. I promise.”
Remus changed into the pants while Sirius kept his back turned, secretly wishing that Remus was comfortable enough to do it in front of him. Or at least take his jumper off. They’d snogged before, for fuck’s sake, and he’d never even seen Remus’s bare skin aside from his face and hands.
Sirius was a little nervous, he had to admit, as he settled down on the bed. He’d had a few sips of whiskey with Reggie, but it was hardly enough. Last time he’d slept with Remus, he’d knocked out for pretty much the whole night without any bullshit bothering him, but he was pretty drunk then, too. Now, though, he was mostly sober, and he was pretty sure he’d just die on the spot of embarrassment if any of his fucked up stuff woke Remus up the way it woke James sometimes. James was always nice about it, hugging him and telling him he wasn’t a bother, but he knew about everything already. With Remus it was a different story. Sirius didn’t want Remus to know.
He and Remus settled under the covers on their sides, face-to-face with their heads on the pillow. Sirius breathed nervously. He’d talked to Reggie (not about that stuff, but still a good talk), he’d apologized to Marlene and Pandora, he hadn’t lost his temper in like, three weeks now and Remus was in his room with him. He was doing everything he was supposed to. Almost everything.
He glanced up at Remus, who was staring at him with soft, brown eyes. “You okay?” Remus asked, seeming to sense Sirius’s nerves.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Sirius said. “I just- like, I just- ugh, okay. I-” he drew in a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut, ignoring Remus’s concerned gaze. He forced the words out through a tight throat. “I’m- I’m sorry.”
He should probably elaborate, he thought. That I’m sorry could have been for literally anything he’d done, but he didn’t think he could say more about it. Just the apology had taken too much out of him. His heart pounded out of his chest like he’d just run a fucking marathon.
“Hey, Sirius,” Remus said. He cupped Sirius’s cheek lightly, forcing Sirius to look at him. The look in his eyes only made Sirius more nervous, soft and sweet like he just cared about Sirius so much and it sort of scared him. “It’s okay. Really. It is. Honestly… I’m proud of you for saying that. Really proud.”
“You are?” Sirius’s voice came out shaky.
“Of course,” Remus said. “I’ve noticed, y’know.”
“Noticed what?”
“You. You’ve been trying lately. Y’know, with your whole turning over a new leaf thing. It’s really been working.”
“You really think so?”
“Yeah,” Remus said.
He pulled Sirius’s head forward slightly and pressed a quick, light kiss to his forehead. Sirius smiled, feeling warmth flush to his cheeks. He did feel a little better now, having gotten the word out. Now, he supposed, he’d done everything he was supposed to.
His body was still tense with nerves. He grabbed the hand that cupped his cheek and fidgeted with his fingers, trying to distract himself from the thought of falling asleep. He glanced up at Remus, still staring at him with a soft smile on his face. It made Sirius blush even harder.
“Tell me something nice,” Sirius said.
“Something nice.”
“Ha, ha. Now, really. Tell me something nice.”
“Like what?” Remus asked, bemused.
“Ugh, don’t look at me like that,” Sirius groaned. “Like-” he smirked. “When did you first know you liked me?”
Remus sighed, smiling. “Oh, Merlin. I don’t know.”
“Come on ,” Sirius insisted. “You’ve gotta give me something. I gave you a whole apology.”
“Alright, alright.” Remus furrowed his brows, glancing down at the blankets in consideration. “Alright,” he said again, looking back up at Sirius. “Remember when on the first day of class, how you read ‘Sonnet 18’ in front of everybody?”
Sirius grinned. “ That? Really?”
Remus shrugged, blushing.
“Merlin, I was just fucking around, Remus, I didn’t expect anyone to actually fall in love with me.”
“Shut up,” Remus said. “I always found you so obnoxious and annoying-”
“Wow, very romantic.”
“And it was like seeing another side of you, y’know?”
Sirius hummed, blushing. Sometimes he wished he didn’t have “sides.” Remus didn’t have sides, Remus was just Remus.
“Alright, your turn,” Remus said. “When did you first know you liked me?”
“Hm,” Sirius bit his lip, sifting back through memories. “Maybe… when you yelled at me in the hallway,” he said.
The wide-eyed, embarrassed expression that overtook Remus’s face sent Sirius into a fit of giggles.
“You better be lying,” Remus said. He shook his head. “Ugh, that was so embarrassing.”
“It’s true,” Sirius teased. “You were like, ‘do you ever shut the fuck up?’ and I was like, ‘oh, fuck, he’s hot.’”
Remus laughed, still blushing, and shook his head. “There’s no way. You’re lying.”
Sirius ducked his head down to hide his face through his giggles. “I’m not,” he choked out.
“Yeah, you’re such a liar,” Remus said. “Come on, be honest. I gave you my real answer.”
“Alright, alright,” Sirius said, pulling himself together. He didn’t need to think that hard, really. One specific memory stood out easily from the rest. “Not so much in, like, a romantic way, but I was definitely interested in you from the first time we met.”
Remus frowned. “Like, in class?”
“No, I mean when we like, first met,” Sirius said. “On the train. First year.”
“Huh?” Remus said. “We met on the train?”
“Yeah, come on. I asked to sit with you. Don’t you remember?”
Remus stared at him blankly.
Sirius widened his eyes, bewildered. “Holy fuck, you don’t remember.”
“Remember what? We didn’t meet on the train.”
“You really don’t remember?” Sirius breathed in disbelief. “Merlin, this is fucking crazy. It’s like, a core memory for me. I always thought we just never mentioned it because it would be awkward.”
Remus looked so completely bewildered that Sirius had to laugh. How the fuck did he not remember? Sirius’s entire perception of Remus was based around that moment and he didn’t even fucking remember it?
“Okay, listen,” Sirius said. “It was our first year, first time on the Hogwarts express. I was walking down the aisle with James. You remember now?” He prodded.
Remus shook his head, wide-eyed.
“Merlin’s fucking sake,” Sirius mumbled. “You were sitting in your compartment and like, reading or whatever, and I was walking down the aisle looking for some place to sit. I’d just met James a second ago and he was right behind me. So we go by your compartment, and I saw you and I thought you looked sort of interesting, and the seat right next to you was empty, so I walked up to you and I was like, ‘anyone sitting here?’” He paused for dramatic effect.
Remus looked intrigued. “And? What did I say?”
Sirius smirked. “You looked up at me like I was fucking bothering you and said yes.”
“No.”
“Yes!”
“It must have been some other boy, Sirius.”
“Some other blonde boy with scars? I don’t think so.”
“But why- why wouldn’t I let you sit there?”
“Mate, I’ve been wondering that for five fucking years!” Sirius cried.
Remus frowned thoughtfully. “Well, you probably looked pretty posh and fancy.”
“I did!” Sirius said. “Everyone had been sucking up to me on the platform because they knew who I was. You were the only person there who was downright fucking rude. And right to my face, too!”
“Alright, well, to be fair, it was just a little lie. It wasn’t like I insulted you or anything.”
“Hey, you weren’t there!” Sirius said. “Or, you were, I suppose, but you don’t remember it. It was an insult. Like, you made this face at me like I was something you’d scraped off the bottom of your shoe.”
Remus shook his head, laughing. “I can’t believe I don’t remember this.
“It’s not funny, Remus,” Sirius cried, through laughter of his own. “It was the rudest thing that anyone had ever done to me!”
“ That was the rudest thing anyone had ever done to you?”
“And it wasn’t just that!” Sirius continued. “Because then later we went by again and saw you sitting in there with Peter and Lily! So it wasn’t even that you didn’t want to sit with anyone, it was that you didn’t want to sit with me!”
“I just- are you sure this happened?”
“Yes, because that was the first time James ever saw Lily and he, like, literally fell in love. He was all jealous of you, thinking you and her were like, into each other.” He huffed. “I was always kinda keeping an eye out for you after that.”
Remus widened his eyes.
“Not like a stalker! Just like, it seemed like everyone wanted to be my friend at the time and you were the only person who ever, like, didn’t give a fuck about me. And I guess I wanted to know why.”
Remus let out a scoff of disbelief, shaking his head again. “Merlin, I can’t believe that happened. I really don’t remember it. Sorry, I guess, for hurting your feelings.”
Sirius grinned. “It’s fine. I guess it was good hurt in the end.”
Remus smiled back. They were silent for a few moments.
“So… you were really noticing me this whole time? Like, since first year?”
“Well, yeah,” Sirius said, blushing. He glanced down at the blankets. “Whenever I saw you, I thought, like, there’s that boy who rejected me on the train.” He paused. “Didn’t you notice me?”
“Of course I noticed you.”
“What did you think of me?”
“Er, that you were a massive prat, mostly.”
Sirius frowned.
“Alright, fine, I also noticed that you were the best-looking boy in the entire castle. If that makes you feel any better.”
Sirius preened, smiling smugly. “It’s nothing I don’t know already.”
“Ugh, nevermind,” Remus sighed. He flipped over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “I take it back.”
Sirius scooched closer to Remus, snuggling into his side and tucking his head onto his shoulder. “No takebacks,” he said tiredly, words muffled by the fabric of Remus’s jumper.
They fell into another silence. Sirius yawned, his eyelids growing increasingly heavy. He clutched a handful of Remus’s jumper in his fist nervously.
“You okay?” Remus asked, seeming to notice Sirius’s tension.
Sirius sighed. Last time Remus was with him, he’d slept all the way through the night. And now, he’d even apologized. There was nothing to worry about.
“I’m fine,” he said.
Remus ran a hand down Sirius’s hair. “Alright, then,” he said. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
Sirius dreamed about his first drink. He was seven years old.
He’d been sad all day and he didn’t know how to stop it. It was like this dark cloud looming over him that not even Reggie and his adorable smile and giggles could stave away. He thought of his father, who was always sad. Sometimes, he’d pour a big glass in his study and drink it all, and pretty soon he’d be all smiley and happy and loose. Those were the only times that Sirius ever liked him.
That afternoon, Sirius snuck into his father’s study and plucked the bottle off of the shelf, lugging it over to the desk with a hand supporting the bottom. He opened the drawer the way he’d seen his father do a million times and took out a glass, clear, shiny crystal. He struggled to pour the heavy bottle and ended up filling the glass up way too much, more than he’d seen his father do, but at least he hadn’t spilled any or dropped it onto the floor. He closed the bottle, then held the glass up to his mouth, staring into it. He sniffed it suspiciously. The smell was strong and sour, but Sirius rather liked it. That smell meant his father was happy.
He lifted the rim to his lips and allowed some of the liquid to touch his tongue. He recoiled almost immediately, wincing. The taste was far too strong, bitter and unpleasant, and the tiny drop that had made it into his mouth burned his throat as he swallowed it. He coughed, placing the cup onto the table and rubbing his lips with the back of his mouth, trying to expel the taste.
“Sirius Orion Black!”
Sirius jumped at his mother’s shrill voice. She stood in the doorway, staring right at Sirius, her silver eyes wild with anger.
Mother hated alcohol. She’d scream at Sirius’s father and call him pathetic whenever he drank too much, or, even worse, just stare at him with unbridled resentment in her cold silver eyes. It made Sirius sad for him. Why was she so angry that he was happy?
Sirius shrank back, placing the cup on the desk.
“Maman,” he said. He ducked his head.
“What is this? You’re drinking your father’s alcohol?”
Sirius squirmed. “I- I didn’t like it, Maman, I promise-”
“You want to be like your father, Sirius? A sad, drunken weakling? Is that what you want to be?”
“No!” Sirius said. “No, I just- I just wanted to try it. I’m sorry, Maman, I’m so sorry-”
“No,” his mother said sternly. She took a step closer. “Do not apologize to me. If you were sorry, you wouldn’t have done it. What do we say about apologies?”
“They’re useless. And weak.”
“And…?”
“And Blacks aren’t weak.”
Mother gave him a brief, terse nod, and a little flicker of happiness went through him at the approval. He glanced down at the floor to hide his smile. She wouldn’t like it.
“Now, go on,” mother said. “You wanted to drink, so drink.”
Sirius’s gaze flickered back up to her. “What?”
“Your father and I pay good money for that alcohol,” his mother said. “Now, I will stand here and watch until you finish drinking that whole glass.”
Sirius stared at the glass on the table. His throat still burned from that first sip, the bitter taste still lingering on his tongue.
“Go on,” his mother said lightly. “Drink it.”
He picked the glass up. It was so heavy clutched between his hands, too big to hold with just one. The sour smell rose up into his nose. He didn’t find it pleasant anymore. It was sharp and acrid and it burned his nostrils the way the drink burned in his throat. He could see his own reflection on the surface, his silver eyes wide and warped by the brown liquid. Another pair of eyes entered the swirling reflection, empty and cold, looming over him like a storm cloud.
“Drink it.”
She was close enough now that Sirius could see her black flats in front of his own slippers, count the withering blue veins that popped out of her feet. Their reflections began to blur as the surface of the liquid trembled. Sirius shouldn’t be shaking. It was just a drink. Blacks didn’t get scared, especially not of stupid drinks.
“DRINK. IT.”
“Sirius!”
He started awake to the sound of his name, flying up into a sitting position and clapping a hand over his mouth. The taste was still there, acrid on his tongue and sharp in his throat, his hand still shook. His stomach ached and churned. Fuck. It was too much. The glass was so full. Too much.
He jumped out of bed and stumbled to the door, ankles twisting over shoes and clothes and books- strange, his mother made him keep his floor absolutely spotless- half-conscious, blurred vision, a hand feeling at the wall as he made his way down the hallway to the boy’s bathroom. He burst through the door blindly and fell to his knees in the first stall he found.
The taste was bitter, stinging his eyes, burning his throat as it came up. Someone was rubbing his back and whispering nice things. He shut his eyes and tried to focus on them rather than the sour smell burning his nostrils. His stomach clenched, a sharp wave of pain and nausea. He retched again.
The hand kept rubbing, the voice soft and sweet. Sirius’s mind felt blurry. His mother’s hands were cold, her voice sharp. She never felt like this. She never sounded like this. “Maman?” he choked out.
The hand stilled.
Another wave hit and he retched again. He had to keep throwing up. The glass was so full. Another hand brushed against the back of his neck, holding his hair back. But he didn’t have that much hair. His hair was short. He wanted to grow it out long but mother never-
The tile was hard and cold and sticky beneath his knees, the sound of his coughs bouncing and echoing about the large bathroom. Larger than the bathroom at Grimmauld place. The voice was still whispering in his ear, softer and nicer than any voice at Grimmauld place.
He reached a hand back to clamp around an arm, wide and muscled beneath thick, soft fabric. He was seven, puking his guts out on the floor of his father’s study, cleaning it up on his hands and knees while his mother loomed over him. He was seventeen, puking his guts out in the Gryffindor boy’s bathroom. His mind was a tangle of memories and confusion.
He clung to arm like a lifeline. “Remus,” he said.
“Yeah, it’s me. It’s me.”
Sirius’s breaths were coming in quick, frantic pants. His chest was coiled tight like a ball of twine, painful, and he couldn’t get any air to reach into his lungs. The smell of vomit overwhelmed him, stinging his eyes and nostrils. Cold surrounded him; seeping through his sweatpants from the tile, prickling at his bare arms and chest. He could feel Remus’s worried gaze on him. He felt exposed, all of a sudden. Like anyone watching could see right through him.
He pulled his hand away from Remus’s arm to rub at his own, the cold suddenly overwhelming, and buried his face in the other. “I’m not- I’m not wearing a-” he gasped. He couldn’t get any full sentences out. His lungs wouldn’t fill.
Remus seemed to get the message, though, because a moment later, something soft and heavy was slipping over his head, surrounding him with warmth. He hugged it to himself, burying his face in the soft arms and sniffing. It smelled like Remus.
His stomach tightened and constricted painfully with every shallow breath, cleared empty. He leaned back against Remus’s chest, still hugging the jumper to himself. Remus’s heartbeat was rapid and erratic beneath his ear, but his breaths, at least, were full and steady. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to match them. Remus was still whispering nice things, but Sirius couldn’t even hear them. His own frantic breaths were deafening in his ears.
Why the fuck was this happening? He was out of that house. He was away from her, so why did it all keep coming back to him? This was worse than being in the house. At least then he got something as simple as fucking sleep. Now, he couldn’t get one fucking relaxing night with the guy he liked without his stupid fucking memories coming back to torture him.
He even tried to be better. He acknowledged his mistakes, he talked to Reggie, he fucking apologized. He did everything he was supposed to and this shit was still happening. Was it just going to keep happening forever?
Remus was rubbing the side of his arm soothingly. Sirius brought a hand up to clutch at Remus’s arm again, feeling the scarred texture of his bare skin beneath his palm. He felt one little raised scratch under his skin and clung to it, thinking of Remus, using it to pull himself out of whatever depths he’d been in.
“Remus,” he whispered again. His voice was small and shaky.
Remus rubbed his arm a little harder in acknowledgment. “Hey,” he said softly. “Are you- I mean, alright, clearly you’re not okay, but-”
“No,” Sirius choked, shaking his head against Remus’s chest. “No, no, I’m okay. I’m fine. I just drank too much.”
Remus’s hand stilled. “Sirius,” he whispered. “You barely drank anything.”
That’s the problem, he barely drank anything. He should’ve fucking drank, then he wouldn’t be dealing with this shit. Why had he thought he could get through a night without drinking? He squeezed his eyes shut again. A few tears escaped.
“Sirius, I- come on. It’s alright, okay? It’s just me. You can talk to me.” He carded his other hand through Sirius’s hair gently. Sirius leaned into the touch. “You don’t have to, but I think you’ll feel better if you talk about it, huh? Just tell me what happened.”
Sirius shut his eyes again. He did want to talk about it. He really fucking did. He was losing his fucking mind. But if he did start talking- if he opened his mouth- there was no telling what would come spilling out. Remus had seen different sides of Sirius, sure, but there was still a side he hadn’t seen. A side that Sirius couldn’t risk him seeing.
He peeled his eyes open and glanced down at Remus’s arm, the one holding onto him. It was the first time he’d ever seen his bare arm, he realized. He clutched it tighter.
Sirius was brave. He was fucking tough, he knew that. But at this very moment, he’d never felt like more of a coward.
“Nothing,” he whispered. “Nothing happened.”
And you've tried every bottle but you're in too deep,
Cause you don't know any better, how could you?
And the fear is there when we're in your bed,
And I start to cry and you think it's something you did,
But, baby, I'm alright,
I'm alright.
- “Bruises,” Ethel Cain