The Art of Love.
I have to stop smoking, was Lily’s first thought. Her eyes were glued to the item in her hand. Her heart was beating in her ears. She breathed heavily through her nose. She blinked but it didn’t keep the tears at bay. She put a hand in front of her mouth to stifle the sound of her sobs.
She wasn’t sad. She was thrilled but overwhelmed. Those emotions went hand in hand.
The positive pregnancy test blurred in front of her as tears truly began to flood her eyes. She was going to be a mum. She and James—they had a baby on the way. She wasn’t just a little late this time. It had been weeks but she hadn’t dared to hope after the last time, but now—
She got up from where she’d sat on the toilet seat, splashed cold water on her face, breathed heavily for a few, calculated minutes, and left the bathroom. She was in her and Remus’s flat, though he was currently at James’s and Sirius’s flat, and James was here with her. She tiptoed into her room where James was sitting on her bed, shirtless, reading a book. His glasses were askew on his face but he didn’t seem to mind.
He looked up as she stepped in, and his face split into a beam. “Hi, Lils. Finished showering?”
“Yeah.” She was grabbing the test tightly in her hand. Her sleeve covered it.
He cocked his head. “Didn’t wash your hair?”
“Nah. I washed it yesterday.” She kept standing in the door.
James furrowed his eyebrows. “Is something wrong, Lily?” He put the book aside.
“I don’t think so,” Lily said, clearing her throat. “But I found out about something, just now.”
“Okay…”
She shuffled over to the bed. Her sleeve still covered the test. James’s eyes were only on her face. She sat down next to him.
“I don’t know how to say this,” she whispered.
“You can tell me anything, Lily,” James said soothingly and placed a reassuring hand on her thigh.
Lily let out a shaky exhalation. “Okay.” She nodded quickly. “Yes, I can do that.” But she couldn’t. She couldn’t let the words slip past her lips, so instead she pulled her sleeve up and showed the test to James.
“What—?” His haze fell to it and his breath hitched. He looked up, searching her face. He cupped it, eyes big, and brown, and so utterly James. “Are you—?”
Lily nodded, a new tear slipping from her eyes. She took James’s left hand from her face and guided it to rest on her stomach. “Yeah, I am.”
James’s face cracked in two and he let out a joyful, wet laugh. He pulled Lily to his chest and peppered her hair with kisses while muttering a constant of, “Oh my God, Oh my God, I’m gonna be a dad, Oh my—you’re gonna be a mum.”
Lily chuckled and relaxed into his arms. In a world of cruelty, war, and sickness, she was so lucky to have stumbled across James Potter.
*
Unlike Remus, Dorcas didn’t live that close to the record shop, so she always took the metro to and from work. It was the first Monday in April, and she had just left the metro to walk the blocks to her and Marlene’s building when something caught her eye by the alley next to the building she was walking by.
A cat.
Or rather, a kitten.
Dorcas stopped abruptly, eyes glued to the little thing.
Its eyes were open. It was incredibly thin, and shaking despite it being hot out. There were no other cats near it. No mother. No siblings. Dorcas’s heart ached. She played with her bottom lip.
She’d always had a big love for cats. She’d had one when she was younger. Skittles, she’d called him. A name she’d picked at age four.
Skittles got driven over by a car. She couldn’t stand the thought that the same thing was going to happen to this small kitten who'd barely begun life.
She slowly approached it. The kitten looked at her with big eyes and pressed itself against the wall.
It wasn’t used to humans, clearly. It must’ve been a street cat. Born there. Left there.
“Hi there,” Dorcas mumbled and held out her hand, palm up. “Aren’t you just the cutest thing?”
The kitten sniffed her hand carefully. Its brown, matted fur glinted in the sun. It had a cut on its paw. Dorcas studied its ears; there was no tag.
The kitten continued to sniff her hand, but Dorcas didn’t dare to lift her hand to pet it. Instead, she slowly opened her tote bag and retreated her water bottle. She uncapped the lid and poured a bit of water into it. She placed it down in front of the kitten.
“There you go,” she said. “Drink.”
The kitten sniffed the water and then stuck its tongue out to slurp up the contents. Dorcas couldn’t imagine for how long it had been thirsty.
She cocked her head. “What’s your name? Eh, what’s your gender? Mhm, can’t really check right now, can I? I think I’m gonna call you… er, let’s see… Ah ha! How about Lucky? Works for a boy and a girl.”
The kitten raised its eyes and licked her hand. Dorcas laughed softly.
“You’re adorable, Lucky.”
*
Marlene was lounging on the couch when she heard the keys jiggle outside the front door. A grin automatically spread on her face and she got up. She was wearing an oversized T-shirt that reached her to her thighs and no shorts. She’d had a day off for work today but that hadn’t been the case for her girlfriend. Her girlfriend whom was returning home much later than expected.
When the door opened, Marlene said, “Hiya, my darl—Is that a kitten?”
Dorcas grinned down at the kitten clutched in her grasp. “Marls, meet Lucky. Isn’t she just a beaut?”
“I—I—Where did you get a kitten?”
“She was all alone, and she has a cut on her leg. We gotta take her to the vet, get her checked for sicknesses and such,” Dorcas said. “At first, she was a bit scared but properly curious. After some water, I could pick her up.” Dorcas kissed the top of the kitten’s head.
“So… we have a cat now?” Marlene asked, taking a step closer to Dorcas.
“Yup.” Dorcas nodded. “You better live with it, Marls. Lucky ain’t going nowhere.”
Marlene smiled and joined Dorcas’s side. “I didn’t say she was.” She looked down at the cat. “She’s really cute. Really thin, though. We gotta get her some food before we go visit the vet. And on the way back from the vet, we gotta buy her some supplies. You find her some food, I’ll go find trousers.”
Dorcas snorted. “You sound like a woman on a mission.”
Marlene wriggled her eyebrows. “Of course I am. I just became a mum.”
*
Sirius was nervous, to say the least. He drummed his fingers against the tabletop. His leg was bopping up and down, and God, he really should’ve asked Remus to come with him. He couldn’t do this alone. This wasn’t just a quick meet-up. This was… This was—was—
“Hello, brother.”
Sirius snapped his head up. Regulus was standing by the booth, jacket slung over his arm. He had a tense smile on his lips.
“Regulus,” Sirius breathed and got to his feet in a hurry. “Hi.” He stretched out his hand.
Regulus eyed it. “Second time you see me in ages, and you wanna shake my hand?”
“A hug felt awkward,” Sirius said.
“You’re right but so is a handshake.”
“Ah, well.” Sirius shrugged helplessly. “A pint?” He gestured to the table where he already had a pint for himself and one for Regulus.
“Don’t have much choice, do I?”
“There’s always a choice, Regulus,” Sirius said.
“Alright then—I choose that we get hammer drunk and laugh about our childhood trauma. How does that sound?”
Sirius laughed. “I agree.”
*
Remus had his leg propped up on the couch table, a book open in his lap—Lily and James were watching a movie on the telly—when Remus heard loud singing that didn’t stem from the box of technology.
“Do you also hear that?” he asked his two friends as he looked up from his book.
“Huh?”
As it turned out, Lily and James hadn’t even been paying attention to the movie, too engrossed with smiling at each other widely. They looked newly in love. Remus shook his head fondly.
“You know,” he said, gesturing into the air, “that sound in the hallway.”
La, la-la, di-dee-da
La-la, di-dee-da, da-dum
Now Lily and James craned their heads towards the door. “What the—?”
The door burst open, and Sirius Black, his arm around a man who was a bit shorter than him, and with shorter hair, hollered:
Sing us a song, you're the piano man
Sing us a song tonight
Well, we're all in the mood for a melody
And you've got us feelin' alright
The shorter man—Regulus, Remus figured—chimed in on the next verse, and both their voices filled the room.
Now John at the bar is a friend of mine
He gets me my drinks for free
And he's quick with a joke or to light up your smoke
But there's some place that he'd rather be
He says, "Bill, I believe this is killing me"
As the smile ran away from his face
"Well, I'm sure that I could be a movie star
If I could get out of this place"
“Jesus,” Lily muttered.
James whistled.
Remus smiled.
Oh, la, la-la, di-dee-da
La-la, di-dee-da, da-dum
Now Paul is a real estate novelist
Who never had time for a wife
And he's talkin' with Davy, who's still in the Navy
And probably will be for life
And the waitress is practicing politics
As the businessmen slowly get stoned
Yes, they're sharing a drink they call loneliness
But it's better than drinkin' alone
Sing us a song, you're the piano man
Sing us a song tonight
Well, we're all in the mood for a melody
And you've got us feelin' alright
They sang the rest of the song and once they finished, Sirius let go of his brother and made a deep bow while announcing Regulus would be staying the night. “Oh, and, Reg,” he said drunkenly, “that hot man on the couch is practically my husband.”
“Hello, practically-husband,” Regulus slurred. “What are your intentions with my great, amazing, stupid big brother?”
“To make him happy,” Remus chuckled. And really, that was the truth.
Sirius beamed, then covered his mouth, and ran for the bathroom.
Sirius could say all he wanted about Blacks’ not having hangovers—that following morning, he didn’t leave his bed.
*
Remus was running. He had built up his stamina for weeks, and instead of now just sprinting in every and any direction until his lungs gave out, he actually kept a steady pace and tried to get some fitness out of it.
It was on this run he stumbled across the shop.
He was sweaty, his hair sticking to his forehead. He was breathing heavily and stopped just because he needed a breather (he was only human, for Christ’s sake). He inhaled and was just about to start running again when he looked to his side.
A jewellery shop.
His first thought was to buy Sirius a new earring for his ear, but then he remembered Sirius’s words from the evening he and Regulus had sung their way into each other’s hearts (as Sirius had called it the morning after).
That hot man on the couch is practically my husband.
Yeah, he was, wasn’t he? Remus stepped into the shop, sweat and all.
*
“Sirius bloody Black, if you want this tattoo, then stay bloody still!” Lucy hissed.
“Remus is making funny faces!” Sirius laughed.
Remus grinned. “Guilty.”
Lucy clicked her tongue, and, once again, tried to bring the gun to Sirius’s chest. Sirius really hadn’t moved at all—Lucy just was that way. And Remus was for a fact making funny faces—eyes crossed and tongue poking out.
Sirius looked down at his chest where Lucy was now tracing out the tattoo. Or rather, the addition to a tattoo he already had.
“So,” Lucy said, “how long have the two of you been together?”
Sirius opened his eyes wide. “What? Remus and I are—we’re—”
Remus raised an eyebrow at him from across the room.
“You’re not very good at hiding it,” Lucy said. “Bloody hell, Sirius, every time Remus visits the shop, you’re drooling all over him.”
“Am not!”
“You kind of are,” Remus said, amused.
Sirius huffed. “Whatever.” He looked at Lucy with narrowed eyes. “You don’t mind?”
Now it was Lucy’s turn to raise an eyebrow whilst her eyes were still on the tattoo. “Do I seem like an arsehole?”
“Well, yes—”
“Don’t make me fuck up your tits.”
Remus guffawed.
Later, once the tattoo was finished, Sirius now had the words TOUJOURS PUREMENT MOI written on his chest—or tit, as Lucy called it.
Remus looked at the finished result with dark eyes before Lucy wrapped it up.
“Oi, Lupin,” she said sharply, “don’t get a boner in here, you fucking pervert.”
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly.
Sirius chuckled. “Wanna do some mischief, Moon Boy?”
“Of course,” Remus said immediately.
“Oh boy. I’ll wait in the reception,” Lucy muttered. “Be out there in five!” She left.
Sirius cackled. “I can see you’re thinking dirty things right now, but that was actually not what I was referring to.”
“Oh?”
“I meant the wall. So, mischief?”
Remus nodded happily and pulled Sirius in for a kiss.
*
By the end of April, Peter invited all their friends to a gallery that would soon be showing his collection called Love Isn’t Blind; the Human Eye Is. Remus was more than thrilled. He loved art, and though he’d never seen any of Peter’s works, he expected them to be impressive since they were in a gallery.
They were invited to be there at five p.m., and then out for dinner at a restaurant after. Sirius and Remus ended up running a bit late due to Remus’s leg having decided to not work that day. The walk from the metro was slow with Remus’s crutches, but Sirius spent the whole time talking his arse off, so Remus didn’t mind.
He was beginning to be more and more at peace with his leg and the liabilities it brought to his life. Life was one step at a time for everyone, be it figuratively, or literally. Everyone moved forward in some way or another. Some days Remus did it fast; sometimes a bit slower; other days barely at all.
And that was okay.
They reached the gallery and all their friends were outside. They were greeted with hugs, loud greetings, and Mary even kissed his cheek while rambling about how she would love to steal Sirius one day for dance practise.
“It’s not ballroom, it’s ballet.”
“Ballet?” Remus raised his eyebrows.
“Ballet?” Sirius echoed him.
“I’m kidding,” Mary laughed. “Or am I?”
“I really don’t know.”
They followed Peter inside the building shortly after. It was completely void of people. There really wasn’t supposed to be anyone but artists inside, but Peter had got special permission to bring them. Besides, all the paintings were hidden behind thick linen.
Peter showed them to a room. Above the door, hung the name for his collection of paintings.
The room was circular. There was a large handful of paintings, all covered in linen. Peter fiddled with his hands.
“There’s a reason I’ve brought you here today.”
“Bloody hell, Wormy,” Sirius said, “is this an intervention? Who here has a drinking problem? Is it you, James?”
Peter cracked a smile. “Nah, but if anyone here was, it would be you. Didn’t your brother and you serenade Lily, James, and Sirius not so long ago?”
Sirius sputtered and turned to Remus. “You told him?”
Remus shrugged, smirking. “Live with it, posh boy.”
“You’re gonna regret this.”
“You sure about that?” Remus raised an eyebrow that clearly stated You very well know it doesn't work that way with the two of us.
Sirius swallowed, cheeks red. “Anyway, Peter, as you were saying.”
“Yes, please,” Mary said. She was grinning. “We want to hear. We want to see.”
“Right.” Peter swallowed. “Over these past many months, over a year, actually, I’ve been working on a collection to show love in many forms. Be it friendship, family, brotherhood, romantically… I’ve drawn inspiration from real life. From you guys. In a week, if you guys are okay with it—with these paintings and what they show—this collection will be the headliner of this showing.”
“Shit, Pete,” James muttered. “That’s a big fucking deal.” He had his arms around Lily, hands resting on her stomach. Remus got the sudden urge to pull Sirius to him, but his crutches were in the way.
“Yeah.” Peter blushed. “These paintings can be personal, and maybe I should’ve asked first, but… well. Come with me.” He walked over to the first painting and pulled away the linen.
A collective gasp sounded from the group.
It was James. And Sirius. They were in a dorm room with red walls, standing by a four-poster bed. They were young. Really young. Teenagers. James had Sirius in a headlock and was ruffling his hair with his knuckles.
The two boys couldn’t be any more different looking. Sirius’s white skin was a stark contrast to James’s brown, yet in the painting, you got the sense you were looking at two siblings.
“This painting is called By Choice,” Peter said nervously, and then moved to the next one.
This was one of Peter’s parents, as he told them, at their wedding. The picture captured the moment when Peter’s father slid the ring on his mother’s finger. Peter hadn’t been there in person, he told them, but he’d seen it in pictures and tried to recreate it himself. That one was called Promise.
The next one was of James and Lily. Lily let out a low gasp. In the painting, she and James were seated on the couch in Remus’s and Lily’s flat. Lily was blabbering about something, her hand gestures big, creating motion in the picture, whereas James just had his chin in the palm of his hand while looking at her with pure adoration. Peter had called that one First Glance—a reference to the first time James ever saw Lily and how he always continued to look at her the same.
The next one was of Peter himself and Mary on the dance floor of the gay club, swinging arm in arm. Mary was laughing in the frame, and Peter matched her. There was nothing sexual about it, as people would instantly jump to when a woman and a man appeared in close quarters. Which was the purpose of it, Peter told them. That painting was simply called Platonic.
Then there was Marlene and Dorcas. That one hit Remus hard right in the heart. Queer love was something hidden, and Peter had managed to capture that perfectly. They were in a dark room, the only light coming from the moonlight through the window. It illuminated their faces and hands. Their fingertips grazed and they looked at each other with a question in their eyes. Can we? Should we? Marlene had often spoken to Remus about how much she’d feared her relationship with Dorcas first. Perhaps, she’d mentioned it to Peter, too, and he’d shown it like this.
Maybe Peter just saw people.
All the paintings held immaculate detail. Each pencil stroke had been precise and with purpose. The paintings could’ve been taken out of their everyday lives. Most of them had been. And those which hadn’t, might as well have been. Peter had captured all the portrayed personalities with art.
There was only one painting left now.
Somehow, Remus knew his own face was going to be reflected back at him even before the linen hit the floor. Sirius’s, too.
It was them at New Year’s. A real memory captured in time down to perfect detail. They were standing close to each other by the edge of the roof. Remus was leaning slightly against the brick wall, one hand raised to move a strand of hair away from Sirius’s face.
It was the moment before a kiss.
It was a moment full of love.
Sirius would call it a moment full of opportunity, and then continue to say it was because of London. And really, all this, these different loves that had formed in their circle of friends (taking out Pete’s parents) had formed because of London. Grown stronger in London.
Before Remus met Sirius, his life had been empty, dull, and felt like it had no meaning to it. Then, one day, he stepped out from the back room, Hank’s voice filling his ears, and then there he was: the most beautiful man Remus had ever seen, and he knew instantly, that that man was going to be his. No matter what. Not in hell; not in heaven, not yet, but in a life they’d get to share.
When Remus looked at the painting of him and Sirius, he saw two broken boys who found healing in each other.
“So?” Peter said. “Do I get a green light to show it?”
*
Later that evening, Sirius brought Remus back to his flat. James and Lily had gone to Remus’s and Lily’s. Really, they should all just do a swap and live with the person they were in love with.
“I can’t believe Wormy made those,” Sirius said in wonder as they lay on his bed side by side. He was talking in low tones. Their hands were intertwined between them. Remus’s eyes were sharp and alert as he drank Sirius in- It made heat pool in Sirius's stomach, but he tried to ignore it. “Like—God, Moony, they were all so beautiful, and—I mean, I knew he was talented, but he’s never really shown any of us anything before. Not even at school, and he used to sketch there all the fucking time.”
Remus chuckled softly. “I bet he did.”
Sirius wet his lips. “That night in the painting, New Year’s, that was the night I accidentally told you I’m in love with you.”
“And I not-so-accidentally said it back,” Remus mused. He squeezed Sirius’s hand. “I love you, posh boy, did you know?”
“Yeah.” Sirius’s heart fluttered. “You make me feel so loved.”
“I’m a bit wounded that you didn’t say it back.”
“I love you, too, you fucking knob,” Sirius laughed. “Better?”
“Much.” Remus kissed him. “I—I have something for you.”
“Oh?” Sirius’s eyes opened wide, intrigued. “A gift? It isn’t my birthday.”
“Not a gift, exactly,” Remus murmured. He was fidgeting with Sirius’s rings. “More a… promise.”
“Okay…”
Remus let go of Sirius’s hand and reached into his pocket. He pulled something out but Sirius couldn’t see what it was. The object must have been small.
Remus held his fist closed tight and he exhaled deeply, eyes fleeting to meet Sirius’s in a deep, earnest gaze. “I don’t know how to do this.”
Sirius smothered the frown between Remus’s eyebrows with the pads of his fingers. “That’s okay,” he said, feeling more than a bit confused. “Take your time.”
“Okay.” Remus nodded, swallowing. “You know how… how we’ve got rights now? Queer people, I mean.
“Well, yes.”
“We didn’t use to have that. We used to be illegal. And, yes, people still don’t like us, but the world gets better for people like us, one step at a time. I believe it’ll continue to do that, no matter how many people will continue to hate us, because I know the kind of love we share can overpower that. I’ve never felt something like this in my life, love. I know that the rest of my life is destined to be intertwined with yours. God, you healed me without even realising you did, and I’m so thankful for that.”
Sirius listened intently, his heart speeding up.
“And—Well, we’ve always said that if… if we could, we’d marry each other in a heartbeat.”
At that, Sirius’s breath hitched.
Remus smiled at the sound. “I don’t know if it’ll be possible in our lifetime, my love. I don’t know a lot but I know that I’ll promise you this”—he opened his palm. In it lay two rings. One gold; one silver—“that if the day comes in my life; in ours; no matter how old, how wrinkled, how sick, how healthy, I wanna take your hand in mine, slip a ring like this onto your finger, and call you my husband.”
Sirius didn’t know when the tears had come but somehow, they had. They trailed along his cheekbones silently, and over his nose due to the angle.
“Sirius?” Remus muttered when Sirius didn’t say anything. “Please, love, say something.”
Sirius didn’t say anything right away. Instead, he pulled off the ring currently nestled against the knuckle on his ring finger and put it aside. “Put it on me,” he whispered. “Put it on me and call me your husband; just for us, not for anyone else.”
Now it was Remus’s turn to get glossy eyes. “O-okay.” He took the silver band and gently took Sirius’s hand in his. He slid the ring into place. It fit perfectly. He kissed the band and whispered, “My husband.”
Wordlessly, and smiling through happy tears, Sirius took the golden band and slid it onto Remus’s bare finger. He looked like a married man. No one would know he was married to a man. That he at that moment, that they at that moment, were having a moment so intimate that nothing would ever compare to when Sirius Black married Remus Lupin while hidden under the protectiveness of his duvet and the moon shining through the window. Because that was what happened and the deal was sealed when Sirius kissed Remus’s band, and whispered lowly, “My husband.”