Cruel Summer (With You)

It goes like this: James apparently has some distant, multiple times removed relatives that own a house in California- a big one, with lots of rooms, right on the water. It took weeks of needling and cajoling, but finally his parents caved and wrote to them, asking if James and his seven very well behaved and very polite best friends could spend a month or two of their summer there.

The response was immediate and entirely welcoming. Rules were, as long as they didn’t trash the place they could stay as long as they wanted. His relatives were going to be on holiday for a few months anyway, and figured it’d be good to have someone around to look after the place.

Which is how the Marauders (and company, read: Lily, Mary, Marlene, and Dorcas)- minus Peter, who’s had post graduation plans with his parents for ages now- all find themselves cramming into the fireplace in Potter Manor to floo over to America. Lily being the genius she is figured out how to brew a potion for an instant jet-lag cure, and they all take it, grimacing at the taste.

The house is big, but not quite big enough for all seven people to have their own bedrooms. This doesn’t prove to be an issue, though, as James and Lily claim one bedroom for the two of them, as do Dorcas and Marlene. Remus feels a bit like an idiot as he watches Sirius retreat into one of the other rooms, leaving the last two for Remus and Mary. He doesn’t know what he’d been expecting. Of course anybody related to the Potters would have a massive house. Still, though, there’s a small, very childish part of him that had been hoping he’d be forced to room with Sirius.

Remus is good at putting that away. Tucking his feelings into the back of his mind where they belong and pretending that they don’t exist. It’s gotten easier, the longer he’s had to do it. And he’s had to do it for such a long time. It’s not his fault, really, and he’s not exactly special. Sirius is beautiful. He’s always been beautiful, and everybody knows it. He had his first girlfriend at thirteen, and there was a long string of them up until Sirius’ revelation of 6th year.

Remus remembers it rather vividly. He’d been awake studying when his bed curtains were pulled back violently, revealing Sirius standing there with his shirt half-buttoned and his hair askew.

“Remus,” he said, eyes wide, fingers still gripping the fabric of Remus’ curtains, “I need to tell you something. Remus stared at Sirius for a moment, frowning. Was he drunk? He didn’t seem drunk, but he didn’t seem… normal, either.

“Okay,” Remus said slowly, tucking a bookmark into his book and setting it to the side.

Sirius didn’t waste any time, climbing onto Remus’ bed and closing the curtains with a flick of his wand. He crossed his legs, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind his ear. “I was just with Gideon.” Remus snorted.

“Outsourcing our pranks now, are you, Padfoot?” Sirius shook his head, hair falling into his face again. He looked at Remus so intently that his skin crawled a bit.

“No,” Sirius breathed, and he seemed to be unsure of what he’s supposed to say next. Instead of speaking, he reached up, tugging the collar of his shirt down enough to reveal a small mark resting starkly against his collarbone. Remus felt his breath hitch. Felt his world crash around him, a little bit.

“Oh,” he said.

“Is that okay?” Sirius asked, and Remus swallowed, shoving everything back down. Sirius needed to be reminded that it was okay. He didn’t need to deal with Remus’ messy, unfortunate feelings.

“Of course it’s okay,” Remus said softly, reaching out and taking Sirius’ hand, squeezing gently.

Sirius slept in his bed that night. Remus stared up at the ceiling the entire time, wishing Sirius wasn’t this way. Not because he wasn’t okay with it, but because if Sirius really was into blokes, that was no longer the problem. It was just… Remus. He just wasn’t interested in Remus.

Remus makes himself at home in the room that’s left. It’s nice- a bit small, but with a window facing the ocean. He’s been trying to hide it since he got here, but the idea of being right by the water actually makes him feel a bit giddy. It’s just… it’s lovely, really. He can hear the waves, and smell the salt in the air, and there are birds flying above. It’s beautiful. It’s the perfect way to end this chapter of their lives. Any time he’s tried to mention that, James shuts him down immediately, saying that they can still be kids for as long as they want to.

Remus knows that isn’t true. Not with the war lurking just around the corner. Not with the Daily Prophet and their steadily growing list of missing people- people that are just waiting to be confirmed dead.

Still, though, Remus pushes those thoughts aside. They can wait, he supposes, until they’re back in London.

Sirius proposes going out for dinner somewhere, but the group is a bit tired so he elects himself and Remus to get takeaway for everybody. He’s happy to do it- his joints aren’t yet protesting this time of the month, and the air is fresh and warm, and the sky is clear. He’s a bit surprised, really, at his reaction to all of this. He always figured he liked the clouds and the gloom of London, but as it turns out: you give him a single day of sunshine and he’s a changed man.

James’ relatives left them a list of recommendations, and they decide to get food from a Mexican place not too far from the house. Remus and Sirius walk along the beach on their way. Sirius’ hair is pulled up, showing the sharp line of his jaw and that magical sort of sparkle that never quite seems to leave his eye. He’s taken his shoes off and walks along the edge of the water. Remus can’t help but stare- he’s a bloody vision.

“You’ve been smiling so much since we got here,” Sirius says, lifting his gaze to look at Remus, a smile of his own playing at his lips. Remus’ face flushes a little. He’s not sure why. It’s not like Sirius has noticed anything particularly embarrassing but something about the way Sirius says it makes Remus want to sink deep into the sand. And then Sirius continues, “It’s a good look on you, you know.” He says it flippantly. Like it’s nothing. Like it doesn’t make Remus’ heart- treacherous little thing that it is- crawl up into his throat. Sirius doesn’t mean it like that. He doesn’t mean it like anything, he’s just being nice. A good friend. Supportive.

“And here I thought you liked my general state of melancholy,” Remus replies in a flat tone, his mouth ticking up into an amused little smile.

At least he’s got that. He always has. Maybe it was growing up around the boys in his neighborhood who were a bit rough around the edges, or the fact that being a queer werewolf forced him to be good at it, but he’s… well, Remus knows he’s cool. At least on the outside. Maybe not in the typical way, but in the way that’s always sort of attracted the people he wants to hang around. Remus is tough and brittle sometimes, but he can also be warm, and funny, and kind, and he’s really not giving himself too much credit there, he’s just… he’s learned to be what people need. What they want. While the inner turmoil of his mind rages on, he puts on a good front. Never show them your next move, never show them that you’re weak. He doesn’t know who taught him that. Maybe he taught himself. Maybe the wolf taught him.

“I do,” Sirius says, and it sounds so genuine. That’s the thing with Sirius- he also knows how to be many different things. It’s infuriating. It’s like looking in a mirror, but the person looking back at you is hundreds of times better than you. Sometimes Sirius is sweet and genuine, and sometimes he teases ruthlessly. Remus never knows what to expect. He loves it, sort of. If he’s being honest.

Sirius steps closer to Remus, away from the water, bumping their arms together gently. “Moony, I was thinking-”

“Shocker,” Remus deadpans, and Sirius swats his arm with a huff of annoyance.

“Yeah, alright, I was thinking that maybe..” Sirius pauses and Remus spares him a glance. He looks a bit nervous, which is interesting. Sirius is so rarely nervous. “Look, I was just doing some research, yeah? And there’s this club not too far from here that I was thinking we could go to. At some point.”

Remus snorts, eyeing Sirius again. “You’re this worked up about asking if we all want to go to a club? Who are you and what’ve you done with Sirius Black?”

Sirius rolls his eyes, reaching up to tug the hair tie out of his hair, letting it fall around his shoulders elegantly. Sirius has denounced everything he came from at this point, but there are parts of him that’ll always be sort of posh, even if he’d hex Remus for saying so. But Remus doesn’t mean it as an insult, he finds it endearing. Sirius tries so hard to maintain his bad boy charm that every once in a while when the grace or elegance he was raised with peeks through, Remus can’t help but feel a little fond towards it. That’s how he looks now, with his hair framing his face, blowing gently in the breeze. Remus swallows.

“Not everyone,” Sirius says, shooting Remus a meaningful sort of look that he doesn’t know how to interpret. “Just… just you. Just you and me.”

“Oh,” Remus says, mind spinning a bit. “Er- why?”

“Because,” Sirius says with a hint of indignance in his tone, like he can’t believe Remus can’t read his mind. “It’s… like, it’s a special sort of club? For people like… us.”

Ah. Well. Now it makes sense. Sirius hasn’t really ever… come out to anyone else. He hasn’t dated a bloke since the Gideon incident. Remus suspects he’s had other… endeavors, but nobody that he’s brought around to meet anyone. Remus supposes it makes sense. Grow up in a family like the Blacks, of course you’d be a bit wary.

It’s besides the point, but Remus knows that a majority of their friend group would be hypocrites if they had an issue with Sirius. Dorcas and Marlene are one thing- everyone knows they’re together. But there’s Mary, too. And James… well. Remus won’t go there. That’s not really something Sirius is ready for, even if Remus feels a little bit guilty about keeping it from him. It’s just that Remus isn’t even supposed to know about it. So it’s not his place to share.

“Sure,” Remus says. It’s easy, going along with any of Sirius’ ideas. Always has been. “I’d go with you.” He doesn’t stop to think that this means he’ll likely have to watch Sirius be flirted with the entire night. Maybe watch someone dance with him. Maybe- fuck. He shouldn’t have agreed so easily. But the grin on Sirius’ face dissuades him from taking it back. It’s disarming, and it lights up his whole entire face, and he’s so beautiful. Sonnets should be written about him. Novels. Albums.

“Brilliant!” He says, and slings an arm around Remus’ shoulders like it’s nothing. Like it’s easy. Like Remus’ entire body doesn’t go electric at the touch.

_________________________

They return later with bags of food that they all spread out around the living room of the house. The windows are open, letting the cool ocean breeze in. Lily’s sitting on the couch next to Mary, with James on the ground in front of her. Peter has already snuck off to bed, claiming that Lily’s potion didn’t work well enough for him. Marlene’s head is in Dorcas’ lap, and Dorcas’ fingers drag through her hair every once in a while, an unbearably soft expression on her face. Sirius is lounging in one of the armchairs, hair hanging in his face as he flips through the pages of a book left on the living room table.

Remus is seated by the open window with a joint in hand. James complains about the smell more often than not, but he’s never actually tried to get Remus to quit the habit. Maybe he knows better. He feels soft and warm inside. He could blame it entirely on the smoke, but he knows it isn’t true.

The thing is, Remus grew up thinking he’d never get to have this. He’d been cursed with an affliction that made him have to hide a part of himself away, cast deep in the shadows, shame curling in his stomach like a serpent waiting to strike. He’d been hesitant, at first, when James, Peter, and Sirius had started trying to befriend him. They were all irresistible in their own ways, though. They made him feel safe, in a way that he was fairly certain he’d never felt before.

It’s family, he thinks, that’s what this is. He’s got a huge, mismatched family sitting here in front of him, and he doesn’t entirely know how he got so lucky.

“Moony?”

Remus blinks, pulled out of his thoughts at the sound of James’ voice. He’s looking at Remus with a little frown, and Remus realizes that he must’ve been staring at everybody with a very sappy look on his face. “Alright?” James asks, and Remus nods, clearing his throat softly. He lifts the joint to his lips and breathes in the smoke, closing his eyes.

“S’nice being here with you lot,” he says, and blinks slowly as he hears Sirius give a little snort from across the room. He tosses the book off to the side and fixes James and Lily with a meaningful look.

“He always gets a little sappy when he’s high,” Sirius says, sitting up in his chair a little straighter and flashing a grin at Remus. “Please, Moons, tell us more about how much you love and adore us!”

“Wanker,” Remus mutters, slouching a little bit in his seat and taking another hit. Moons. He’s Moony, to everyone else. James and Peter, and Lily on occasion. Moony. With Sirius, he’s Moony, Moons, Moonshine, Moonbeam, and it makes his heart dance. Remus imagines his heart wearing little tap shoes, or a tutu, and he laughs to himself, sitting up straighter again.

“See?” Sirius says, gesturing over to Remus. “Prongs, this is what’s wrong with today’s youth. They smoke so much they can’t even come up with a proper comeback. It’s tragic, honestly, oi- Moony, give it here!” Sirius grins, getting to his feet and padding over, sitting next to Remus and reaching for the joint, plucking it directly from Remus’ lips.

“Oh, honestly, the two of you,” Lily says, shaking her head with a little laugh. Her expression is fond, though. Remus meets it, offering her a bit of a crooked smile. She lifts an eyebrow. He shrugs helplessly.

Lily’s probably his best friend. Or maybe she isn’t, he doesn’t know. The concept of having one best friend feels a little ridiculous to him. Why have one when you could have three? Or four? Or one hundred? But she’s the only one he’s ever confided in about Sirius. It was in fourth year, when Sirius had made it his mission to snog every girl in Gryffindor. He’d tried it on with Lily, and she’d slapped him, sending him to go nurse his wounds back in their dormitory.

“He’s so infuriating, that one,” she’d said to him later that night, as they helped each other with Transfiguration homework. “I mean, honestly! Thinks he can give me a kiss just because he’s got a nice smile and good hair.”

“He does,” Remus had mused, not looking up from his paper. Lily had gone silent, and when Remus looked up, she was staring at him intently. “What?” He asked, setting his quill down carefully.

“He’s fit,” she said, tipping her head to the side. “If you’re into that kind of thing.”

“What kind of thing?”

“You know - his whole… like, bad boy thing. Tortured soul thing. Even I can admit that he’s charming, but he’s not exactly my type.”

Remus swallowed, glancing down. He hadn’t told anybody yet. But if anybody was going to take it well, it’d be Lily. “He’s mine,” Remus said, the words feeling as if they’ve been sliced out of him.

Lily smiled softly, reaching across the table they’d been sitting at and grabbed his hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “I know, Remus.”

“You know?!” He asked indignantly, snatching his hand away from her, face heating up.

“Oh, calm down, Remus, he doesn’t know. I just… I mean, you go all soft when you’re around him. It’s sweet, honestly. I think everyone else chalks it up to him being your best friend, but I’ve wondered for a while now if it’s more than that.”

Remus let out a heavy sigh, slumping down in his chair a bit and avoiding Lily’s gaze. The only thing more embarrassing than having feelings for somebody was being called out on them. He gave Lily a halfhearted smile, his heart twisting a bit in his chest. “It is,” he admitted quietly, feeling a little out of breath. It was the first time he’d ever said it all out loud. “But it’s entirely hopeless.”

Lily had raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her chair. “Sure, Remus. Sure it is.”

He hadn’t known what she’d meant then. Remus can’t really see this whole entire thing as being anything other than hopeless.

But then again, in moments like these, with Sirius sitting right next to him giving him that soft, gentle, fond look, Remus thinks maybe he got it wrong.

He’ll blame the weed, later, for what he does next. And the thing is, it’s entirely innocent, or at least it could be, if his intentions with Sirius had ever been pure.

Remus shifts a little closer, leaning against Sirius’ side. He’s a bit cold- he’s always a bit cold, balancing out Remus’ overheated tendencies- and Remus feels like he’s melting against him. It only takes a moment before Remus allows himself to drop his head onto Sirius’ shoulder. He feels like he could stay here forever. Get comfortable. Move in.

It’s fine, for a second. Almost like Sirius hasn’t noticed, and Remus thinks he might get away with it. With this soft, easy closeness. But then Sirius stiffens. Remus feels how his entire body goes a little rigid, and he doesn’t actually push Remus off, but this is somehow ages worse than that. Sirius is stiff, and frozen, and it’s Remus’ fault. Because he tried to allow himself a moment of pretense, as if there was ever a world in which Sirius Black wants to be close to him like this.

Remus straightens up as casually as he can. “Think I might turn in early,” he mumbles, and as he stands up, he feels Sirius’ hand reach out, brush against the back of his. He glances over his shoulder to meet Sirius’ questioning gaze. He looks away again, clearing his throat softly.

“Alright,” James says slowly, gaze sliding towards Lily and then back to Remus. “Well. Night, Moony. See you in the morning.”

Remus feels like an idiot. He’s never been very physical with Sirius. He’s always held him at arm’s length, and the very, very few times he’s broken that self-imposed boundary, it always goes like this. Sirius can’t seem to handle it. It makes him uncomfortable. Remus feels rejected, and then tries to forget about the whole entire thing.

It hurts. He can’t lie. But he also can’t entirely blame Sirius.

Remus lays down on his bed after opening the window. The ocean breeze feels good on his skin, and his head is swimming a little bit, and he dreams of the stars.