Twas Was the Night Before Going Home.
Sirius's fingers hovered above the keys. An exhalation fell from his lips and he closed his eyes. He brought down his fingers, eyes still closed and began to play. It wasn't an existing piece. It folded out as he went. It started out low, a caressing touch to the ears, but it then grew louder, wilder, yet somehow held a soft tenderness to it. Sirius let himself pour into the music, everything he couldn't say expressed into the keys.
His brows knitted together, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. His back was completely straight; shoulders drawn back, just as he had been taught.
The music would soon reach its peak. It moved from being soft and tender to being angry and harsh. It built up, and up, and up, and just before it reached its peak, Sirius slowed it down again. The music sounded unsure now; tentative. He played a few last few keys, ending on a C Sharp that rang through the flat.
He inhaled and opened his eyes. His whole body was buzzing with the music that had just left him.
"That was good."
Sirius whipped his head around. There, by the front door, stood James. He was leaning against the wall, arms and ankles crossed.
Sirius grinned shyly. "Thanks, Prongs. Just tried... I don't even know. Just poured it out."
"You always do, don't you?" James asked and walked over to the piano. He stopped behind Sirius where he was sitting on the piano bench. He placed his hands on Sirius's shoulders and started to work out the knots there.
Sirius sighed as the tension seeped out of his shoulders. "You should do that more often. I sit horribly when I make tattoos, my back hates it."
James hummed and stopped the massaging to instead sit on the piano bench beside Sirius.
"You haven't played since we got here."
It was common knowledge between the two of them, that playing the piano was only something Sirius did when he needed to get something off his chest. It had been a common occurrence right after Sirius's disowning. James never asked what it was Sirius needed to get out; he'd long ago learned that Sirius would just close down if he asked.
Maybe that was one of the reasons James thought he was a shell of who he used to be. They hadn't mentioned their fight since it happened, but every now and then, it would surface in Sirius's mind.
"I know," Sirius said, letting his finger trace over the keys. "Just have a lot to think about."
James swallowed. "Wanna share?"
Sirius's heart broke at the hopefulness in James's eyes. "I—I can't."
James blinked and looked at the piano. "Okay, Padfoot."
"It's not that I don't want to," Sirius rushed out, the sudden urge to fix all his mistakes over the last ten years overtaking him. "I just—I have something I need to figure out, and I would like to figure it out before... before I share it with anyone."
"Have you shared it with Remus?" James asked, voice unnaturally sharp.
Sirius's eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"Just, you spend so much time together, just yesterday you went out for a beer just the two of you, and, well, do you like him more than you like me?"
Sirius sat, dumbfounded. Was James Potter jealous?
That didn't sit right with Sirius. James Potter was far from a jealous person, but if one person would be able to bring it forth in him, Sirius wasn't surprised about the fact that it was him. James had always had a certain possessiveness for Sirius.
"No, I don't," Sirius said. "Why would you think that?"
James shrugged helplessly. "We never spend time together any more."
"We're going to be together in Bristol."
"Yeah, for six days, then it's back to this."
"James, don't come and tell me that you hate this. You and Lily also spend all your time together."
"That's different. She's my girlfriend."
"How's that—" Sirius's lips sealed shut. He sighed. "Okay, I get it. I'm sorry, Prongs. I really am."
"So am I. It's not fair of me to react this way."
"Nah, you're more than allowed to. You can always speak your mind around me, even though I might respond like a dick."
James grinned. "I know."
Sirius ruffled his hair. "I love you, Prongs."
James beamed. "Love you too, Padfoot."
"Have you packed for when we're gonna travel?"
"Gonna do it tomorrow morning. Reminds me. Lily and Remus had an idea."
Sirius hummed. "Yes?"
"They were planning to go to a bar to get sloshed tomorrow," James said. "Everyone else is coming, too. They invited us and Pete as well. I'll call him after we finish here."
"That sounds amazing," Sirius grinned. "Count me in."
"Alright, great." James scratched at his neck. "They, um, they wanna go to a gay bar, Sirius."
Sirius almost succeeded in not flinching at the word. Almost. How could James say it so easily? "Oh. Okay."
"That okay with you?"
"Of course it is, James."
"Alright, good, good. I asked if it was even okay for us to be there, being straight and all—"
Sirius focused on his fingers, not saying a thing.
"—And they said it'll be okay. If anyone hits at us, we just gotta tell them we're not interested and there with friends. Same goes for Pete."
Sirius nodded. "Yeah. Okay. Yes. Sounds great."
"I agree!" James clapped his hands together. "So, what to wear to a gay club? Something rainbow-ish?"
Outside, as Sirius broke into a fit of laughter, snow began to fall.
*
December had been a great month for Sirius and Remus. They'd been out often, just the two of them—to get beers, walk in the park, or visit bookshops. Sirius had never been more happy or at peace than he was in those quiet moments with Remus.
And then a new urge had set into Sirius's body. The constant urge to kiss Remus whenever they were alone. The urge had always been there but hidden by Sirius's intrusive thoughts, but Sirius was getting better at ignoring those.
His parents had kicked him out years ago. It was about time he allowed himself to live as himself; especially now that he had a reason: Remus.
So, day by day, he tried. He often talked to Remus about his feelings about his sexuality. Those words he could say now in the mirror. My sexuality and I'm falling in love with Remus. Yet, he still found it hard to say that he was what he was. Sexuality could mean many things, even straight, so it was easier to say. And the falling in love with Remus Lupin... Well, anyone who met him would fall in love a bit every time they saw him, wouldn't they?
He still hadn't told Remus the reason behind his scars, or the exact way he had been disowned. But he was going to, soon. He had a plan. On the 23 of December, he and James would be travelling to Bristol, and there, Sirius wanted to face the demons of his past one last time. There was something poetic about that—Remus would think so—to face one's future by saying goodbye to the past face to face. And then, after that, before he would tell Remus anything at all, he felt like his best friend, his brother, finally deserved to get to know him again.
Self-acceptance was grazing his skin with each breath he took; all he needed now was for it to embrace him.
But for now, Sirius had to get ready to go get wasted.
He was in the midst of getting dressed when it knocked on his bedroom door. "Come in!" he called mindlessly while looking at the shirts laid out on his bed.
The door opened, and he craned his neck to see who it was.
Remus.
Sirius's face broke into a soft grin. "Hi, Moony."
"Hi," Remus greeted softly. He was wearing a Bowie T-shirt and black trousers. A chain hung around his neck."Lily and I just got here. You ready?"
"Not yet," Sirius said. "I don't know what the fuck to wear. I haven't gone clubbing in ages."
Remus stepped further into the room. No crutches or cane today, but there was a slight limp to his steps. It was as good as it could get.
"And never to a gay club, I assume?" he asked with a smirk.
"Ha, ha, no," Sirius said. "Neither has James. He seriously considered going dressed in all rainbows—Don't laugh, I mean it! I managed to talk him out of it, though."
Remus was cackling as he went over to look at Sirius's shirt options. He fingered the material of a short-cropped black tank top. "This one's nice," he mused.
"Of course, you'd think so," Sirius mumbled coyly. "Fine, that it is." He snatched it together with the other shirts (a red T-shirt and a white tank top) and put the latter back in his wardrobe.
"How about trousers?" Remus asked.
"Just usual jeans," Sirius replied, looking into his wardrobe's contents. "Blue or black?"
"Black," Remus said immediately. "Good God, please wear all black."
Sirius grabbed a pair of black jeans and turned from his wardrobe to Remus, a smirk on his lips. "Like it when I wear black?"
Remus hummed unashamedly. "Especially when you wear that leather jacket of yours over it."
"I think I'll wear it today," Sirius mused, tapping his chin. "Just because."
"You're a saint," Remus said, grinning.
"Thanks, I know."
"Full of yourself."
Sirius chuckled, fidgeting with the two pieces of fabric in his hands. "So, are you just gonna stay in here while I change, or...?"
"Well, not like I haven't seen you in only your underwear before, but because I'm such a nice person, I'll go and wait with Lily and James."
The corner of Sirius's mouth quirked up. "I'll be quick."
*
Lily had gone clubbing many times. Before his injury, it had been one of her and Remus's favourite activities, but they hadn't gone since. Remus's smile had been wiped away for months. She'd asked him a few times over the summer, but he'd never wanted to. In the end, she gave up.
Then Sirius Black entered their lives. And along with him, came a certain James Potter, whom she quite adored.
"Am I allowed to dance with you in there?" he asked as they left the metro by Tottenham Court Road, arm in arm. Sirius and Remus were walking behind them. Peter, Mary, Dorcas, and Marlene would be meeting them there.
"James," she sighed with a laugh. "Of course you are, you're my boyfriend."
He smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, I'm so fucking lucky."
Lily wrinkled her nose while her face flushed. James always had a way to make her feel like the only woman in the world. No one had ever looked at her the way James Potter did.
"Well, so am I," she said and squeezed his arm. She cast a fleeting look behind them as they left the metro building and onto the streets. "You two good back there?"
"Yes, ma'am!" Sirius called.
Remus gave a slight nod, smiling.
Lily turned her attention back to James. "I hope he remembered to bring the pain-numbing cream. If he wanna dance tonight, he'll need it in case it wears off."
James hummed. "Can I ask—He hasn't told me and didn't want to ask, but I'm curious, and I feel bad about being curious—"
"James," Lily chuckled softly. "It's fine. He's your friend." She wet her lips. "It was a car crash. Last spring. Really fucking bad. He's lucky he didn't lose his leg."
The cold was biting at her skin. The snow that had fallen the day prior had already melted.
"That must've been awful," James said. "Not only for him but also for you. To see your friend go through that."
Lily smiled at him. "Yeah, it was. It's better now, though. Sirius, he—he helped him a lot."
"Yeah, he tends to do that," James said with a smile. "That bugger. Helps everyone but himself."
Lily didn't know what to say to that, so she said nothing.
*
"Do you think Remus and Sirius are an item yet?" Marlene asked her girlfriend around the butt of her cigarette.
"Do we even know if Sirius is queer?" Dorcas asked. They were standing in line at the club: Clear Queer.
"No idea, but I mean, have you seen him around Remus? I bet they'll be shagging by the end of January."
Dorcas sighed fondly. "Why are you so obsessed with them getting together? I mean, I would love it if they did, too, but you're just... oddly invested. Not that I mind, I think it's cute."
Marlene shrugged. "Just—Remus has had a rough year. He deserves some happiness." She sucked on the butt of her cigarette.
"That you're right about—You should have seen the first time I saw Sirius. I was at the shop with Remus and Sirius came in to ask him if he wanted a fag break. I have never seen Remus's face light so much up in my whole life."
"Dorcas! Marlene!"
The two women turned their heads to the other side of the street where Lily, James, Sirius, and Remus were now making their way across the road.
"Speak of the devils," Dorcas muttered.
Marlene lifted her free hand to wave. "Just jump in with us! Seen Pete and Mary yet?"
The group of four reached them. "Nah, but I bet they'll be here—"
Remus didn't get to catch his sentence, because just then, Mary's shrill sounded through the air. "If that isn't my favourite none black Black man!"
"And there we have Mary," Sirius said, looking to his right where the voice had sounded from. "And Wormtail."
True enough, there were Mary and Peter striding towards them. Mary beamed at them once she and Peter reached the group. "Gosh, the day I've had—Sirius, I have a new story for you. Oh, Marlene, let me get a drag of that fag, can I?"
"Sure," Marlene said amusedly and handed it to her.
"I met Peter on the way down on the corner of the road. Someone has money enough to buy a cab."
Peter shrugged sheepishly. "Sorry?"
"Don't apologise. Not my fault, you just earned thousands of euros on that painting you made."
"What?" Sirius squeaked, while James's jaw dropped. "You did, Pete? Fucking hell, that's amazing!"
Peter blushed. "Well—Yeah."
"Go, Wormtail," James said, pulling him in for a hug. "I'm proud of you."
"We all are," Marlene said. "Now let's drink on it! The line is moving, folks, so get the fuck in!"
*
The music was blasting loudly and Mary was bopping her head along to it while she was flirting shamelessly with the female bartender. She didn't notice it when Peter sat next to her. Not until he cleared his throat and said, "I hope I'm not interrupting?"
Mary's head whipped around, and her face broke into a beam. "Pete! No, of course not." She winked at the bartender, who was wiping a glass. "Another time, love."
The bartender smirked. Mary hadn't even got her name. She rarely did. "I hope so." Behind her, on the other side of the bar, Mary could spot Sirius and Remus sitting.
"Why are you not out dancing?" Mary asked Peter and took a sip of her margarita, which stood on the countertop in front of her.
"Not really anyone on this scene who is interested in dancing with me who I'm also interested in dancing with," Peter said with a small smile.
"You could always dance with me," Mary said. "I love dancing. I wanna be professional one day. It's my passion—How about you?"
"If my passion is... dance?" Peter asked, eyebrows furrowed.
"Of course not," Mary scoffed. "But I would like to see it. No, I meant, what's your passion?"
"Oh. Art," Peter said.
"You're good at it, too."
"You haven't seen any of my works," Peter said shyly.
"No, but you just managed to sell one. That counts for someone being good in my book," Mary said. "So, what do you like to paint most?"
Peter wet his lips, cheeks red all of a sudden. "I—I like painting intimate scenes—"
"You paint sex scenes?" Mary gawked. "Damn, Pete—"
"No!" Peter quickly said. "I mean, like... I like to capture those moments where people are just... well, I like to capture love. I suppose that's another word for it. It doesn't matter if it's platonic or romantic. And I also like to provoke people with my paintings; to make them think."
"That's... really nice," Mary said softly. "I would like to see some, someday."
"I'm working on some pieces currently," Peter said lowly. "I've been working on them for a year. It started out as a silly thing, but lately, I've got a lot of inspiration."
"How so?" Mary asked curiously.
Peter shrugged sheepishly. "I've got new friends, got to witness a lot of raw love. I've never really entered the queer scene before Sirius and James introduced me to all of you, never got to see it from the inside, but it's so... pure. It's beautiful, really. The collection of paintings I'm currently making is called Love Isn't Blind; the Human Eye is. It portrays all types of love. I've—I paint really realistically. Oil paintings, mostly. The first painting I did for it was actually of Sirius and James. Their love for each other is brotherhood, really. I wanted to portray that. Then I made one of my parents... Well, you get the gist." He scratched at his neck. When he spoke of his art, his eyes lit up.
"Wow," Mary whispered, interested. "Who else?"
"When I saw how James and Lily looked at each other, I instantly knew I had to paint them. I—I actually finished it here the other day. I've now begun one of Dorcas and Marlene. I want to show them for what they are to each other: lovers. Some people are not gonna like that, but again, I like to be provoking."
"Wow," Mary said once again. "Do any of them know about it?"
Peter shook his head. "No, not yet. I want it to be a surprise. If—Well, if everything goes to plan, my collection will be shown at a gallery in April."
"That's fucking amazing, Pete!" Mary squealed. "I bet they'll love it! Who else are you planning on painting? If you're gonna paint more, that is."
"I don't really know," Peter said. "Guess I'll find out eventually."
Mary downed back her drink, a devilish grin on her face. "You should do one of me and you."
"Why?" Peter inquired to know.
"Because we're friends, duh," Mary said, still grinning. "Show platonic love between a girl and a boy. It's possible, you know."
"You sure?" Peter asked teasingly. "You sure you wouldn't fall in love with me?"
"Nope," Mary said.
"I'm not sure whether to be hurt or relieved," Peter laughed.
"Mary Macdonald doesn't fall in love," Mary said, tapping her fingers against the counter. "She just... can't." She swallowed, and her eyes met Peter's. "But she can dance, so up you go, we're going to rule the dance floor."
*
Remus hadn't been dancing, which was unusual for him. Instead, he'd sat at the bar with Sirius as they talked. And talked. And talked. They'd thrown back shots and sipped beers, both tipsy at that point.
When Sirius drank, his skin tinted rosy, and there was constant laughter bubbling under his words. That, at least, was Remus's experience. Marlene and Dorcas had been over by them at some point, trying to drag them to the dance floor, but Sirius had declined, and therefore, so had Remus.
A while ago, he'd seen Mary and Peter get up to dance, and they were now in the midst of the weirdest dance on the dance floor that Remus had ever been witness to.
"Moony, you hearing me?"
"Sorry," Remus said, moving his gaze to Sirius. "What did you say, love?"
"I asked you what your favourite colour is. Very important information. Vital, really. So, what is it?"
Remus didn't waver as he said, "Grey."
Sirius wrinkled his nose. "Grey?"
Remus nodded; eyes locked together with Sirius's stormy ones. "Yeah. Grey. What's yours?"
Sirius's eyes searched Remus's face. "Brown."
"And you think mine is an odd one."
Sirius shrugged sheepishly and fiddled with the rim of his beer cup with his ring-clad fingers. Remus couldn't help but openly stare. He loved it when Sirius wore rings.
"How did it go at your doctor's appointment yesterday?" Sirius asked. "I never got to ask you."
The day prior, Remus had been to a check-up for his leg. It was solely to see if the injury had got worse or better. It had neither, and they determined it never would. It would always be like this; a mess of nerves that no longer knew how to work properly. Weeks ago, this would have saddened Remus a lot more than it did now, but now he had relief from the pain. So, maybe it was okay. He still wished it was different, of course, but he hadn't expected it to.
Life would never be what it once was, and Remus had to learn to accept that. He had to embrace it.
"Dr Shelly just told me what we already expected; that since it has been so long since the injury, and no changes have been made in my leg, for the worse or for the better, I'll have to expect for my leg to be this way for the rest of my life. Unless a miracle happens." He shrugged. "I knew it already, this was just confirmation, really."
"I'm sorry, Moons," Sirius said. His fingers twitched slightly as if he wanted to reach out.
Remus smiled. "It's okay. I have relief now. She said—Well, showed her Andy's cream, and she was impressed. I told her how it works and such. How it goes in and numbs the signals of pain the nerves send to the brain. Well, let's just say that maybe I gave her Andy's number, and Andy will be contacted about her research into pain relief."
"Really?" Sirius's face lit up. "That's great!"
"Yeah," Remus agreed. "She, um, she also said that now that I can go for hours on end without pain, that maybe I could, well, try and do something other than walking. It won't damage my leg. If it's a day my leg will carry my weight, then I should be able to... to—"
"To run?" Sirius finished softly for him.
Remus nodded. "Yeah, to run."
Sirius beamed, and this time he actually reached out to take Remus's hand in his on top of the counter. Remus's heart skipped a beat. "I'm so happy for you, Remus."
Remus could feel a blush creeping up his neck. "Thank you." Then after a small pause, he said, "You're holding my hand."
"Well, we're in a—queer club, aren't we?" Sirius mumbled.
Remus squeezed his hand. "I know, just... didn't expect it."
"Well, I'm shit scared James is gonna see, but last time I spotted him on the dance floor, he had his tongue down Lily's throat, so I think I'm good. Everyone is too busy to notice us in here; a bit like London."
The corner of Remus's mouth quirked up. "Yeah."
"I'm gonna tell him about me soon, though. Prongs, I mean," Sirius quickly said. "I'm gonna tell him everything. Every single thing I never told him, I'm gonna tell him. And I'm gonna tell him first, before you, because I feel like he deserves to know. Does that make sense?"
Remus hummed. "Yeah, it does. A lot."
"I'm nervous," Sirius said. "I mean, I can't even say fucking out loud that I'm—you know."
"You will, at some point," Remus said reassuringly. "I know it's not easy for you, and that's okay. Take your time. You've come so far in such a short amount of time. You know that."
"It's your fault, you know," Sirius huffed. "You and those bloody brown eyes of yours."
Brown.
A wide grin tore Remus's face in two. "Oh yeah?"
"Yup," Sirius said. "I guess I just—Why try and live my life by their rules when they're never gonna be a part of it again? They threw me out. They are the ones who don't love me. So, fuck them."
"Fuck them," Remus agreed. "Let's drink to that!"
Sirius's hand slid out of his as he reached for his glass of beer. They clinked their drinks together and then drank. Their glasses landed on the top of the counter in unison.
"Well, aren't you just a pretty thing?"
Remus's eyes instantly zeroed in on the intrusion. A man was standing on Sirius's other side, leaning against the counter.
Sirius's head turned slowly towards the man, a polite smile breaking out on his face. "Can I help you with something?"
"I believe you can help me with a lot of things." The man moved a bit closer, and a surprised gasp slipped from Sirius's lips. The man had placed a hand on Sirius's thigh.
Fury boiled in Remus's veins.
"I—I—"
"What the actual fuck do you think you're doing?" Remus hissed. "Can't you see he's talking to me?"
"Nah, was a bit too focused on his pretty face," the man mumbled. His hand was still on Sirius's thigh, slowly inching upwards.
Sirius was at a loss for words.
"Get your hands off him," Remus said and stood. His leg ached but he ignored it the best he could.
"I believe he can speak for himself." The man bowed down further, his face almost all up in Sirius's. He had brown, shoulder-long hair and stubble lining his jaw.
"I—I would l-like for you to remove your h-hand," Sirius stuttered. "Please."
"Oh, and polite, too," the man said, completely ignoring what Sirius otherwise had said.
"Did you not hear him or what?" Remus hissed.
Now the man was ignoring him completely, and Sirius had completely zoned out. His whole body was stiff. The man's hand—
Remus quickly moved around Sirius's chair, grabbed the man by his collar, and yanked him away in only a few moments of time. "I said to get your hands off him!" he shouted over the music as he tightened his hold on the man's collar. The man let out a spluttering sound. Remus was taller than him by a handful of inches. "What don't you understand about that?"
"I—I—"
"Remus, you're choking him!"
Where had James come from all of a sudden? James yanked Remus away from the man, and his hand let go of his grip. The man bowed forward, coughing. Sirius was still sitting completely stiff, not paying mind to what was happening around him.
"James, what the fuck?" Remus hissed and wrenched himself free.
"Why would you do that?" James asked bewildered. "Are you trying to get us kicked out?"
Remus was fuming. "He was inappropriately touching Sirius! What did you—"
James was already on the move. Not towards the man, but towards where Sirius was sitting on the bar stool. He gently cupped Sirius's face and began saying something in low tones.
Almost instantly, Sirius's shoulders dropped in relaxation.
"What's going on?" Lily was by Remus's side, now.
Remus wet his lips, eyes still on Sirius. "I think it's time we head home. I'm not in the mood to be here any more. I don't think James and Sirius are, either. Don't know about the others."
*
Sirius was silent as they entered the flat once they got home. They'd parted with Remus and Lily down on the street. Sirius hadn't been saying much.
"Are you okay?" James asked the minute he closed the door behind him.
Sirius shrugged silently and sat down on the couch. James followed him and sat down next to him.
"Sirius, what that man did, was not okay," James said. "And it wasn't your fault that he felt the right to do that. Some people are just—awful. Disgusting."
"I know," Sirius said lowly. His eyes were trained on his hands. "I know, Prongs."
James put his arm around him and pulled Sirius into his side. The minute he had laid his eyes on Sirius in the bar, he knew that Sirius's body had returned to that place. Ever since he was disowned, and had showed up on James's doorstep with a suitcase and blood trailing down his back, the words, "Can I stay here?" on his lips, Sirius's body had a tendency to lock down whenever he felt like he was going to get hurt.
Getting hit over and over again by your father's belt at your mother's hand tended to do that to you.
In the beginning when living at the Potters', the summer before they went to St. Paul's, Sirius had apologised for any little mistake he made, he would spend hours just gazing out the window, deep in thought, and he would flinch every time someone raised their voice or moved a bit too quickly. It was in those moments that his body would shut down; just waiting for the pain to be over with. Eventually, James learned how to bring him back. Soft-spoken vowels and reassurances.
It happened less and less over the years, but sometimes, something would trigger that old habit in Sirius's body.
It was then, that summer, that James felt like he'd lost parts of his best friend. Some of them, he got back with time; their laughter; their pranks. Stuff like that, but some part of Sirius had clicked out of place that day and never quite returned to how it once was. James had learned to live with that, even though it hurt.
James carded his fingers through Sirius's hair and kissed the top of his head. "I love you, Padfoot."
"Love you, too, Prongs."