Cruel Summer (With You)

Ignoring Sirius had been a bit of a bust, in the end. Remus doesn’t know what he was hoping to accomplish with that. It isn’t like not spending time with Sirius would make his feelings magically disappear - he learned that back in fifth year at Hogwarts when he spent half the year trying and failing to hate Sirius- but he thought maybe he could just get them to take a backseat, for once.

No such luck, as it turns out, especially considering the fact that when Sirius wants something, he’s always rather persistent. Which is how Remus managed to get roped back into going to the club with Sirius tonight.

Their friends have all gone off on their own, leaving the house empty and a little bit eerily quiet for the evening. Remus is in his room, and he can hear faint sounds of music coming from the turntable in the living room. He’s pretty sure it’s Bowie. It’s always Bowie, when it comes to Sirius. Or Queen.

The moon’s coming up next week, and Remus can feel the beginnings of it already starting. The slow sort of ache in his bones, the restlessness, the hunger. He hates it. Makes him feel like he’s not really human.

They’ve already worked out a place for him to transform, but Remus still can’t help but feel nervous about it. He’s never really sure how Moony’s going to react to a new situation, and it leaves him on edge.

Remus blinks as he hears a knock on his door, propping himself up on his elbows as he clears his throat softly. “Yeah, come in,” he calls out.

Sirius opens the door with an awfully suspicious sort of grin on his face. He’s got a few things in his hands and Remus frowns, pushing himself up fully with a small groan, reaching up to scrub a hand across his face. “What’ve you got there?” He asks, and Sirius grins wider, walking over to the bed and plopping down next to Remus.

“You have to promise you’ll say yes to what I’m about to propose.”

Remus scowls, eyeing Sirius suspiciously. “Not happening, Padfoot. Last time I blindly went along with one of your ideas, we were stuck cleaning the boy’s bathroom as detention for a month.”

Sirius huffs, like he can’t believe Remus would use that as leverage against him. “I promise it’s nothing like that! Look, just…” he holds out his hand to show Remus what he’s brought in.

Remus stares down at it, still frowning. It’s makeup. Mary’s, if he had to guess. There’s eyeliner, and the thing that he’s pretty sure goes on your eyelashes, and there’s a jar of something sparkly. Sirius has been known to do this, from time to time. Remus remembers the first time he ever saw Sirius wearing eyeliner at a Gryffindor party, and how his brain immediately short-circuited, because fuck, it really wasn’t fair.

“Moony, you really can’t say no, because if you did it’d break my poor little heart. We can’t have that, can we?” Sirius asks, blinking innocently at Remus.

“You haven’t actually asked me for anything, Sirius,” Remus points out.

“Oh! Right!” Sirius shifts next to him, kicking his shoes off and crossing his legs. “I think you should let me do your makeup. Nothing crazy! I swear! Just some eyeliner. And glitter. We’re going to a club, Remus, you have to wear glitter!”

Remus swallows, staring at Sirius for a long moment. He’s weak. He’s so fucking weak. “Yeah, alright.”

The way Sirius’ face lights up makes it immediately worth it.

They adjust themselves a bit better, with Remus leaning against his pillows and Sirius sitting in front of him, cross legged on the bed. He leans in, tongue poking out from between his lips in concentration. He brings the pencil towards Remus’ face, and Remus flinches back. He can’t help it- something sharp is coming at his eye, and it’s just basic human instinct to not want that to happen.

Sirius scowls. Remus is sure the look on his face is hideously fond, because when Sirius scowls he looks a bit like a child, with the wrinkles between his eyebrows and his lips in a little pout, and he’s adorable, really, isn’t he? “Moony, don’t,” he chastises, leaning in again.

Again, Remus flinches back involuntarily. Sirius scowls deeper. Leans in again. Remus blinks harshly. They try a few more times, Sirius growing more and more frustrated. “Remus, stop moving!”

“I’m not trying to! You just- you’re coming at me with a sharp object-”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic, I’m not going to take your eye out-”

“I don’t even see why you’re making me do this-”

“Because I want you to- because- stop moving, Remus-”

“I can’t help it!”

“Merlin, alright, just-” Sirius breaks off and in one fluid movement gives Remus’ chest a little shove, pushing him down so that he’s lying on his pillows, staring up at Sirius. Remus’ breath catches in his throat, his brain going into overdrive, because what the fuck is happening.

Sirius doesn’t even seem to be thinking about it as he swings one leg over Remus, straddling him on the bed. Remus’ heart is beating so quickly he thinks he might be about to die. Or pass out. Or ascend to the gates of Heaven. Sirius leans down, the pencil still in his hand. His hair hangs in front of his face, and he reaches out with his free hand to grab Remus’ chin firmly. Remus is frozen in place. Like, he actually, physically, cannot move. Has he ever been this close to Sirius? Because he can feel Sirius’ legs on either side of his hips, and Sirius’ hand on his face, and his breath ghosting across Remus’ cheeks, and Sirius leans in and Remus doesn’t turn away, because he can’t do much of anything right now.

“Close your eyes,” Sirius murmurs. Remus gives a short nod, swallowing hard as his eyes slip shut. Sirius waits a moment, and then Remus feels him lean closer, gently tracing the tip of the pencil along Remus’ eye. Remus keeps his eyes shut as he feels Sirius’ thumb brush along his skin, presumably smudging the line a bit. His hand is warm. And soft. Remus can’t breathe.

Sirius starts on the other eye, his other hand still holding Remus’ face still, so he couldn’t turn away even if he wanted to. “Good,” Sirius says softly, “much better.”

Remus blinks slowly when he feels one of Sirius’ hands pull away, and just… stares. Sirius’ eyes are so pretty. They’re not quite blue, not quite grey, something in between. His cheeks are just a little pink, and his lips are slightly parted (Remus wants to bite them, a little bit, but maybe that’s the wolf talking), and his hair is still hanging in his face.

“All done,” Sirius breathes, but he doesn’t move to pull away. It’s like they're both in a trance. For the second time in five minutes, Remus doesn’t know what the fuck is happening. He could reach out, if he wanted to. Rest his hands on Sirius’ pretty hips and pull him closer. Kiss him until they’re both gasping for breath. Remus can’t help it as he reaches up, carefully tucking a piece of Sirius’ hair behind his ear. He watches as Sirius’ eyes flutter shut. Watches as he breathes out a little unsteadily. Is Remus misreading this? He can’t be, can he?

Sirius blinks again and his eyes flick down to Remus’ lips once. Twice. Remus swallows. He could kiss Sirius, right now. He could. It would be so easy, they’re already so close. Close enough that if he moved up, just slightly, they’d be kissing. He could almost write it off as an accident. Sirius’ head tilts, just a little, against Remus’ touch. He’s so pretty. He’s always been so pretty.

“Sirius,” Remus says, and his voice is a little hoarse, “Sirius, what are we-”

It’s like speaking has snapped Sirius out of whatever trance they’ve both been in. His eyes go wide and he pulls himself back so quickly that he almost topples over, but regains balance and climbs off the bed, straightening up and giving Remus a smile that doesn’t look quite right. Remus sits up, his head spinning. Fuck. Did he misread it? He was sure…

“I’m gonna go pick an outfit,” Sirius says, and he sounds a little out of breath.

“Sirius, wait, I-”

Sirius’ grin stretches a little more, but there’s something a little panicked in his eyes. “No, it’s cool, Moons, I’m just… I’ll- just, we’ll go in a bit, yeah? I just have to get ready.” And then he’s turning on his heel and hightailing it out of Remus’ room. Remus stares after him helplessly.

He waits, like an idiot, for Sirius to come back. To tell him he’s just kidding, to come sit in front of Remus again, to tell him he’s been in love with Remus for years and that he actually can’t physically go one second longer without knowing what it feels like to kiss him.

Sirius doesn’t come back. Remus flops back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He lets out a small groan, tossing an arm over his eyes. “What. The. Fuck,” he mutters, letting out a shaky breath.

_________________________________

For once in his pathetic life, Remus decides to be cool about it. He puts on an outfit- nothing too exciting, just his jeans and a white t-shirt- and heads out, slumping down onto the couch in the living room. It’s alright. He can do this. Sure- for a few minutes there he was almost positive something was going to happen between them, but it’s fine. It’s completely fine.

It’s dark out now, but it’s warm enough for the windows to be open. Remus leans back, closing his eyes as the breeze ruffles his hair gently. He really could get used to this.

A few minutes later, Sirius comes out of his room, coming to a halt in the doorway. Remus looks up at him and fights the urge to roll his eyes.

He’s just… he’s Sirius. And he’s tragically gorgeous. And Remus can’t do anything about it.

Sirius is wearing jeans, too, and it looks like he’s stolen one of Marlene’s crop tops. His stomach is bare and Remus is trying very, very hard not to stare. He’s got his leather jacket on, of course, and he’s wearing the pair of earrings that Remus got him for his birthday a couple years ago. Half of his hair is tugged up while the rest hangs in perfect curls, and he’s wearing makeup, too. It makes his eyes stand out, and if Remus isn’t mistaken he’s even got a bit of lip gloss on. Sirius shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket, leaning against the doorframe.

“Alright, Moony?” He asks, and he sounds a little bit nervous. Remembering his pledge to be cool about it, Remus nods easily, standing up slowly and stretching his arms above his head with a small sigh.

“Alright,” he says, offering up what he hopes is a placating smile. They can just… forget about earlier. Even if it’s burned into Remus’ memory for the rest of eternity. He can pretend. He’s good at pretending.

Sirius seems to relax when he realizes that Remus isn’t going to be weird about this and walks over, offering his arm for Remus to take. “C’mon, then.”

Remus takes Sirius’ arm, ignoring the feeling of sparks that shoot up his fingers, and closing his eyes.

The familiar tug of apparation pulls at his stomach, and moments later they’re landing outside of a club in what Remus assumes is LA. It’s much busier here than the house they’ve been staying at. Cars pass by on the streets, people filter in and out of the buildings around them. Remus looks up at the flickering sign of the club, then back at Sirius, whose excitement about this whole thing seems to have been renewed. He grins at Remus and Remus grins back, and then Sirius is tugging him inside.

It’s loud. That’s the first thing that Remus notices, is the music blasting from the speakers, but he also immediately recognizes that it’s good music, so he can’t really complain.

The lights are a little bit blinding at first, and it takes a few moments for Remus’ eyes to adjust. There’s a dancefloor, and a bar, and it’s crowded. And… Merlin. He’s never seen so many queer people in one place. Sirius looks about as stunned as Remus feels, eyes wide as he spins in a slow circle, taking it all in. He reaches out again, squeezing Remus’ arm. “Moons,” he says.

“Yeah, I know,” Remus breathes.

“This is amazing.”

“I know,” Remus replies, letting out a small laugh.

In their own private little circle, the identities they all hold close to their hearts don’t really matter. Their friends are good, and kind, and open, but they’ve been living in a world where on the outskirts of their little bubble, people are cruel, and small-minded, and awful. And it’s easy enough to forget, sometimes, but there’s something bright and joyful and hopeful bubbling up in Remus’ chest as he looks around the room, and he actually feels a bit like he could cry. It’s just… it’s wonderful. There are couples dancing together, and nobody looks scared, and nobody’s being quiet about it.

Remus turns to look at Sirius to see that his eyes are swimming a little bit. He sniffs, brushes a thumb underneath them, and then grabs Remus’ hand, tugging sharply. “Let’s dance.”

Remus doesn’t dance, really. Once or twice when he’d had enough to drink at a party, but usually he’s a bit too aware of what other people must think of him to actually let go enough to do it. So he settles for swaying a little awkwardly on the dance floor as Sirius dances his heart out.

Remus’ mouth feels like it’s watering, and there are about five other people staring at Sirius. Jealousy swirls in the back of his throat, bitter and acidic. Everyone’s always looking at Sirius- how could they not? And in a world where everyone’s looking at you- where you have so many options- why would you pick the most boring one? Even if Remus is cool, he’s still… he’s still just Remus. It’s not like he hung the moon, or anything.

Sirius fits right in here. He’s always been a good dancer, and even if he wasn’t, it wouldn’t matter. Sirius once told Remus that everything’s just about confidence, and even if you haven’t got any, you’ve got to fake it. Remus can’t ever tell when it’s real, and when Sirius is faking it. He’s that good at it. When Remus was younger, he used to hate Sirius a little bit for being good at everything. Now, though, he’s just.. He just loves Sirius, that’s all it is. Which is simple and complicated all at the same time.

Eventually, Sirius decides he’s had enough of Remus hanging off to the side and grabs his hands, tugging him to the center of the dance floor. Remus tells himself that it doesn’t mean anything, because it doesn’t. Sirius would do this with James, too. Remus has seen him do it with James, actually, so he does his best not to read into it. Even when Sirius loops his arms around Remus’ neck and pulls him closer, wearing that grin of his that makes Remus’ heart melt.

“I never want to leave here,” Sirius shouts over the music, and Remus can’t help but laugh. He doesn’t really want to leave, either. Everybody here fits in because nobody does. This is the sort of place you come to when you’ve exhausted all other options. When you’re tired of pretending to be somebody and something you’re not. It’s freeing. And Sirius’ joy is intoxicating.

Remus isn’t sure how long they’re dancing together. It could’ve been minutes or hours, but everything’s blending together and he hasn’t even had anything to drink, but he feels like just being this close to Sirius is enough. Not for the first time today, he thinks about kissing Sirius, but for the first time ever the thought doesn’t make him feel terrified. What would really happen? Sirius could kiss him back. Sirius could push him away. But haven’t they been in each other’s lives long enough now that it wouldn’t completely ruin everything? Maybe he wouldn’t fuck the friendship up. Maybe that’s all been in his head.

Sirius jumps slightly when a man comes over, resting a hand on his shoulder. The guy looks like he’s their age- maybe a year or two older- and he’s a classic sort of handsome. Sirius flashes a confused sort of smile at him.

“Mind if I have this next dance?” He asks with a wry little smile, winking at Sirius. Sirius blinks at him for a moment. Remus swallows the bitter taste in the back of his throat. He should’ve expected this. He really should’ve expected this, but stupidly he wonders if maybe Sirius will turn the guy down. It takes a moment for Remus to realize Sirius and the stranger are both looking at Remus expectantly. Like it’s up to him. Like he’s supposed to answer the question. Remus searches Sirius’ face for something, anything. Sirius is looking at him with an unreadable sort of expression, though, and Remus can’t work out what it means, but he can’t say no, can he? Can’t deny Sirius whatever this is.

“Yeah,” he chokes out, looking at the stranger. “I-I mean, sure, yeah, you can… he’s all yours,” he says, and then cringes, because it isn’t like Sirius is his to give away.

The look on Sirius’ face has changed, just slightly. Remus still can’t work it out, but Sirius almost looks a bit miffed about this whole thing. It doesn’t make sense- the guy is objectively attractive, and Remus is sure Sirius would’ve been annoyed if Remus had turned the guy away. Still. Sirius stares at him for a long moment. There’s something a bit fiery in his gaze.

“Yeah,” Sirius says, and it comes out a little bit harsh. He pulls away from Remus, flashing a toothy grin at the stranger. “I’m all yours, sweetheart.”

Remus watches as Sirius turns towards the stranger, and grabs his hands, placing them on his own hips. The guy doesn’t seem to mind, instead pulling Sirius closer with a grin on his face.

“Gonna go get a drink,” Remus mutters, turning and shoving his way through the crowd, trying to ignore the way his face is burning.

He’s had to remind himself of this countless times over the years. Everybody wants Sirius Black. Everybody’s a little bit in love with Sirius Black, in one way or another. And Sirius? Sirius lives for the attention. Eats it off of the fucking silver spoon he was raised with, and Remus is always, always, always on the sidelines of it all. Remus’ attention is never enough. The way that Remus wants Sirius will never be enough.

Because you’re a monster, is what his mind supplies him with. Because you’re too messy for him. Because you’re not easy enough. Because you’re not difficult enough. Because you’re not enough.

Remus lets out a shaky sigh, leaning against the wall and pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. It was inevitable. They’re at a queer club and Sirius is gorgeous and it was only a matter of time before he was swept off his feet by somebody who isn’t Remus.

And maybe there’s a part of Remus that is royally pissed with himself, too. Because he’s always too scared to do anything about the way that he feels, even in those moments- the ones like earlier- where he’s almost positive Sirius won’t turn him away. There’s always something that stops him. Something that holds him back.

He orders a drink at the bar and takes a seat on one of the stools, slumping forward. He must look pathetic like this. He takes a moment to glance around the room again. He wonders what all of these people are like. If any of them feel the way he does: free and trapped at the same time.

He sips at his drink slowly, trying not to think about Sirius and the other guy. It’s fine, right? Not like they’re going to fall in love, or anything. It’s just one night. It doesn’t mean anything. But that doesn’t make the burning pit of jealousy in his chest feel any better.

Remus closes his eyes and takes a moment to just… breathe. It's still loud in here. People are shouting over the music. The music…

Remus keeps his eyes shut and focuses in on it.

I, I can remember

Standing, by the wall

And the guns, shot above our heads

And we kissed, as though nothing could fall

And the shame, was on the other side

Oh we can beat them, for ever and ever

Then we could be Heroes, just for one day

He sucks in a sharp breath, eyes snapping open. Remus remembers when he and Sirius listened to this song for the first time. He’d bought Sirius Heroes for his birthday last year and they’d stayed up late that night to listen together. Remus had made a pact not to listen to the album until he gave it to Sirius, and they’d stayed quiet for the whole thing- a rarity, with the two of them. He remembers the look on Sirius’ face as the third song had started. Open and bright and beautiful. How he’d breathed out, “Moony,” at the very end of it. How there had been tears in his eyes. And Remus had understood it. He doesn’t know what Bowie wrote the song about but in that moment, he’d written it for them. For Remus, and how he’d felt like a monster his whole life. For Sirius, who’d grown up with monsters who didn’t just live under the bed. For the two of them, who had somehow found each other, and James, and Peter, and the girls, and made it out of every shitty situation that life had thrown their way. Remus remembers it, and the memory is cast in a warm, golden glow in his mind.

Remus blinks quickly, setting his drink down. What is he doing?

He loves Sirius Black. It’s something he’s known for a very, very long time, and… and when you love somebody, you can’t let it slip away into the darkness. You have to hold the torch and hold it high. His friends have all shown him that, in various ways.

Remus lets out a shaky breath. I love you, he thinks. I love you, and I need to tell you, and you might hate me forever, but I don’t think you will.

Remus pays for his drink and then slips away from the bar, moving back towards the dance floor to look for Sirius. He's going to do it, he really is. He’s going to tell the stranger to leave and then he’s going to tell Sirius how he feels. He’s going to kiss him. Because Sirius has been giving him signs. If he really takes a step back from it and takes a look at the whole situation, Sirius has been giving him signs. In subtle and not so subtle ways. For years.

A small grin pulls at the corners of Remus’ mouth as he scans the dance floor. He feels brave. Thank you, David Bowie.

It doesn’t take long for Remus to spot Sirius, because Sirius isn’t on the dance floor anymore.

He’s off to the sidelines. He’s pressed up against the wall.

They’re kissing.

Sirius and the stranger, they’re kissing.

Remus freezes in place, the stupid grin sliding from his face. The stranger’s hands are tangled in Sirius’ hair, and Sirius’ hands rest on the stranger’s waist and they’re kissing. They’re in their own little world. Remus can’t breathe. Can’t move, can’t do anything. He’s never actually seen Sirius kiss anybody. He’s imagined it plenty of times, but seeing it is something else entirely.

Remus swallows. Realizes his hands are shaking a bit.

They come up for air, and Sirius lets out a little laugh, looking a bit flustered. He reaches up, swipes a thumb across his lower lip, and then leans in again.

Remus stares. And then he turns on his heel and leaves the club, walks out into the night air, leans against the wall, ignores the way his eyes are burning.

What was he thinking? It was a stupid moment of misplaced bravery, and he feels like he’s back to square one. If Sirius is willing to kiss a stranger in a club, then… then… then what?

Remus wouldn’t ever do that. He hasn’t done that, really, ever since his feelings for his best friend intensified. He can’t imagine being with anybody other than Sirius. And isn’t that just pathetic?

Remus lets out a long, shuddery breath. He’s going to have to put it all away again. Lock it up and pretend it doesn’t exist, because it’s embarrassing that he thought he stood a chance, even for half a second.

Remus takes a few minutes to compose himself. He doesn’t let himself cry because he’s not a fucking baby, but he feels awfully close. It hurts to want something so badly.

When he makes his way back into the club, he finds Sirius at the bar, scanning the crowd.

“Moony!” He cries as Remus walks over. He swallows. And suddenly, the bitter sadness is replaced by another feeling.

Sirius was the one who pushed him down on the bed, today. Sirius was the one who stared at him with that look on his face when the stranger interrupted them. Sirius was the one who wouldn’t let Remus ignore him for the rest of the trip, who insisted on getting in Remus’ space again. So how could he just… why would he-

“I’m ready to go back,” Remus sort of snaps, and Sirius blinks, staring at him with a stupid, confused look on his face.

Later, Remus will realize it’s not Sirius’ fault, not really. They’re less than a week out from the moon, and Remus has never had a firm grasp on his emotions even on the best of days. He feels a bit all over the place. He can’t stop thinking about Sirius and the stranger kissing.

“What? Why?”

“Because I’m tired, Sirius. You can stay, if you want to.”

Sirius looks down, jaw clenching. “Remus, if you- if I did something-”

“I’m just tired, Sirius,” Remus snaps again, frustrated. He doesn’t want to be here anymore. He doesn’t want to be around Sirius right now.

Sirius rubs a hand over his jaw, giving a little nod. “Fine, then, go. I’ll be back later.”

Remus is surprised by that. He tries to take it in stride. Fails. “Fine.”

“Fine!” Sirius snaps back, folding his arms across his chest. “I thought we were having fun.”

Remus scoffs, meeting Sirius’ gaze. It isn’t fair for him to be upset- not when he can’t tell Sirius why he’s upset, but he is upset. “You were certainly having fun,” he replies, scuffing the toe of his boot on the floor. Sirius stares at him, his gaze hard.

“I was,” he replied. It breaks Remus’ heart, just a little. “Night, then, Remus.”

Remus doesn’t say anything else, just shoves his way back through the crowd without a second glance and steps outside, barely checking to see if there are any muggles around before apparating.

He lands back at the house and storms inside, slamming the door behind him, not caring if he’s going to wake anybody up. He goes to his room, lying down on the bed and staring up at the ceiling for a long time.

Sirius doesn’t want him. Sirius would rather kiss somebody he’s never met before.

Remus’ chest squeezes and he curls in on himself a little bit, suddenly finding himself blinking back tears. It’s so stupid. It’s so stupid.

What’s even worse is that he waits. For hours, he waits for Sirius to come home, because maybe he can work up the courage to explain himself, or apologize, or something. He waits for the door to open and close. Waits for the familiar weight of Sirius’ footsteps.

They never come. Remus falls asleep before Sirius comes home.