“I have decided that Gryffindor house is full of lightweights,” James announced as he stumbled onto the common room couch. One hand – the one clutching a cigarette he bummed off of Sirius or Marlene, Remus wasn’t sure – windmilled to keep him up, the ash coming dangerously close to Lily’s quickly retracted leg. The other clutched a handle of cheap scotch, something he smuggled from the muggle world. This one he watched with extreme precision, making sure none of it spilled, before taking a swig. Remus watched his uneven movements with a grin plastered to his face; he wasn’t sure he’d ever stop smiling.
It was the beginning of term party, and the last of the stragglers were making their way to bed, worn out from a night of drinking and smoking and too many tales of summer. Last year’s festivities had landed on a rather brutal full moon; this year, Sirius had insisted they shut the event down. This year, they were infinite. The clock on the mantle read 1:21, and yet all but 9 remained.
From his spot on the floor, Peter smacked James’s leg. He’d threatened to go to bed nearly two hours ago, and James had threatened to play his new copy of Abba’s Arrival at full volume in their room if he did. The compromise had left Peter laying on the carpet in a sort of starfish position. “Some of us haven’t been stealing bits of sherry from our parents between terms.” Still, he took the bottle when he offered it, and sat up just enough to sip some of the amber liquor. “This tastes ghastly. Can I have more?”
“Me first,” Remus grumbled, but his rosy cheeks were evidence enough that he didn't need it. He threw back the bottle and took a massive sip, trying to cover his cringe when the liquor hit his throat. Unsuccessfully. The pained look on his face sent Sirius into a laughing fit so intense, he pushed out of the arm chair he’d squished into with Remus for the last eight minutes. Remus knew this, as Sirius was the kind of drunk that moves, and since the last quidditch match party, Remus had taken to timing how long he could sit still. “New record,” He announced to the group in an attempt to ignore how he missed the heat of Sirius’s body, which started Sirius laughing again.
“What are we supposed to do with all of this?” Regulus leaned back against the table that a group of seventh years had expertly turned into a bar, the anxiety of the night evident on his face. He’d just turned 15, and Sirius reasoned it was a good enough age to drag him along to the event; still, he’d hum’d and haw’d the whole way to the common room and well into the party. More than once, Remus had taken him upstairs for a breather, and now, he watched him with a small smile. The Black brothers were so similar, but still unrecognizable next to one another.
“Drink it,” James offered through a cloud of smoke. “It sounds like you need it.”
“Ignore him, he’s an idiot; Someone will get it in the morning,” Lily offered, before giving James a solid punch in the arm.
“Everyone’s attacking me tonight!” He slipped off the couch, and padded over to the table. He smashed what was left of the cigarette into the side of it, leaving a dark smear. After some digging, he shoved a mostly-full bottle of peppermint schnapps – the sight of which made Remus’s stomach churn after a particularly bad post-moon drinking binge – against Regulas’s arm, and grabbed a half-empty bottle of rum for himself.
Regulus took a sip, and frowned. “You know, I meant the empty ones.”
“Well, little brother,” Sirius stumbled on the carpet and threw an arm around Regulus mostly to catch himself. His long hair fell in loose waves across his face, and Remus itched to brush it back. “Those, you spin.”
“We’re too old for this,” Dorcas called out. She’d somehow managed to pull the bottle of scotch to her and Marlene’s side, and now she sipped it like water, before giving Remus a big wink.
“It’s tradition,” Mary said. She’d found a perch for herself on the arm of the couch, and now dropped her feet into Lily’s lap as she turned to face the bar. “You can’t fuck with tradition, ‘Kinnon.”
“She can if it means I have to kiss Marlene again,” Peter moaned.
“Fuck you, Pettigrew. There are men who would pay good money to kiss me.”
“Haven’t they?” Sirius said. She shoved two fingers up in his direction; he blew her a kiss. Remus watched through his haze, a smile at his lips: he liked his friends like this. They were eternal.
Then, Sirius ripped the bottle from his brother’s hand. “How about we raise the stakes this year?” He took a sip. “How about anyone goes?”
Regulus glanced at James with the same anxiety on his face that Remus now felt building in his chest, and pulled the bottle back. After taking three major gulps, he steeled his face, and said, “What do you mean, anyone?”
“Whoever the bottle lands on. None of the silly rules about girls and guys.” He glanced at Dorcas. “Is that old enough for you?”
“That’s ridiculous,” Marlene cut in. A smile, something wicked and sharp, played on her lips. “Let’s fucking do it.”
Sirius grinned, drunk and pleased with himself. Remus’s stomach turned again without the liquor. “Reg, grab a bottle.”
James threw back the rest of the rum before Regulus could move, and held up the empty bottle. “I got it!” He sang out. “Who needs drinks, before we start?”
There was fumbling, and carpet rustling, and cigarettes passed to everyone who wanted one. Lily, spelling the fire back to full strength; Peter, complaining as James forced him to sit up; Sirius, scolding Remus for taking one of Marlene’s cigs. They all ended up on the floor, sitting in various states with various glass bottles settled at each leg. Sirius sat close enough that Remus could smell his aftershave, and he took a sip of the peppermint schnapps Sirius had left by his foot; it tasted better chasing the bad taste in Remus’s mouth, and matched the nausea settling in his stomach.
“Who’s first?” Peter asked.
Lily was drinking James’s scotch, and she let a little drunk giggle over the top of the bottle. “How about you, Petey?”
Peter squeezed his eyes shut, and groaned. “I did this to myself, didn’t I?”
He leaned forward until his fingers brushed the bottle, and he gave it a light spin. It meandered once, twice, landed on… Marlene. He groaned again.
“God, don’t take your shirt off just yet,” She mumbled, sitting forward so he could kiss her. Their lips barely brushed, and then he jerked back fast. His face looked mildly gray. “Are you worried I’m going to bite?” Peter nodded quickly, and reached for whatever drink had ended up in his hands. “Petey’s scared!” She sang out, as she reached forward to spin the bottle.
She landed on Lily, which earned a few hoots from James and Sirius when it did, and a few more hoots when they went through with it. In turn, Lily punched James’s arm again.
“I’m gonna have a bruise there,” He snapped.
Lily smirked. “I could petrify you, if you’d prefer.” A frown split his face, his hands shooting up in surrender. Satisfied, she took a drink and leaned forward for the bottle. It didn’t even rotate all the way, before settling on Sirius. More hoots filled the room, predominantly coming from Mary and Marlene this time. Sirius grinned, and crawled forward across the circle. “I always knew it’d be me, Evans.”
“Meaning?” She leaned forward, pressing her hands into the floor. Her face wore an uninterested smirk, the same one Remus had seen so many times when James had come calling on her.
“Well, between me and Prongs, I just–”
Lily shoved a finger to his lips. “You’ll just shut up before I quit, actually.”
“Right.” They leaned towards each other, and Remus watched as Regulus covered his eyes. Part of him wanted to do the same. It felt wrong, even if it was just a kiss. Because it was Sirius – Sirius with his wild tales of kisses stolen in forbidden corridors from people he’d never name. Sirius, who could charm any girl in their year with promises of smokes and bad ideas. And even though they’d played this game a hundred times, something felt different tonight.
Remus drank more. He was tired, and that had to be it. Exhaustion. The full moon had happened so recently, and they were always worse at home. Yes, he’d been feeling that, he thought. Because it was the simplest of pecks, and then Lily was sitting back normally, an unsatisfied look on her face.
Sirius grinned, and did a little flourish of his hand as he sat back. His leg landed on Remus’s. “Well?”
“Close your mouth more. I thought you were trying to bite me.”
“You dog!” James cried, which set the rest of Remus’s roommates giggling, and Remus drinking again. God, why had he agreed to this game?
As Sirius’s hands settled on the bottle, Remus realized he’d have to endure it again. The rum bottle was spinning, and he was wondering if he could claim going to the bathroom and drinking more schnapps and hoping he could get another cigarette and–
“I believe it’s landed on the person Sirius loves most!” Dorcas cried out. Remus looked down to the bottle, which pointed straight at Sirius. No, actually, it pointed at the spot where his leg covered Remus’s.
Oh, no.
“Actually,” James said, putting words to what Remus had already realized, “I think that counts as our Moony.”
“Same difference,” Peter mumbled. Then, “God, did I say that out loud?”
“You’re an asshole, Petey,” Sirius took a swig – something ungodly peach flavored that one of the sixth year girls had brought – and grinned. “What d’ya say, Moony?”
Remus sipped his own drink, and tried to still his thoughts. “I say take Evans’ advice. I’m not a big fan of getting bitten.” Again, his roommates all laughed loud and hard and drunk, and he tried to lose himself in it. Tried to shut down the ache in his stomach with the sound of their unbridled glee. And it worked, mostly, until Sirius turned to face him, and his leg slid up Remus’s crossed one. Too high, too close, too much.
“I’d watch your teeth too, if I were you,” Sirius hissed. Good god, he was practically on Remus’s lap. And it wasn’t uncommon – Sirius had determined long ago that everything was a chair if you tried hard enough – but not like this. Not when they were supposed to kiss.
Something lit up in Remus, something he’d never felt. He took another swig, and the courage pulled out of him. “Actually, I think I want to quit.”
“Scared to kiss a guy?” James called out. Remus shot him a glare, and fought to cling to his newfound stupidity. He took another swig – a bigger swig – and shook his head.
“Scared to play a boring game. This has been our tamest one to date.” He took a small breath. Had Sirius’s legs always been this heavy? And the jumper he’d borrowed earlier in the night – it was pulling across his chest more than it ever had. “I mean, last time James and Mary got to second base after too many shots.”
“Not really! He actually couldn’t figure out the bra.” Mary chimed in helpfully.
“I did that?” James asked. Regulus was bright red next to him.
“You also threw up for three hours, and told me you were a lesbian,” Peter added.
“I will cherish that information until I die,” Lily said. Remus’s heart skipped. There was courage thrumming through him; he was convinced they would never die. Except, perhaps, if what his new found bravery wanted from this situation actually happened.
Because he knew what could be coming and it was as terrifying as it was intoxicating. “Are you claiming we’ve gone soft, Moony?” Sirius asked.
“I told you we’re too old for this,” Dorcas mumbled.
“I am never too old to be drunk and horny,” Sirius snapped back.
“I don’t know why we’re playing if we’re just gonna kiss like estranged in laws,” Remus concluded. “You can spin again if you want, but I’m out.”
Sirius pressed a hand to his chest. “The bottle is law, Moony.”
“Then kiss me like a fucking adult,” Remus said. It came out all too fast, all too jumbled, and suddenly, his edge was gone. He knew what was coming, the awful words that would be met if everyone realized why he’d said what he said.
Instead, Sirius grinned from ear to ear. He looked back at the circle, arms wide. “See, this – This is what I wanted from you fuckers.” Then, he looked at Remus, and slapped a hand down on his shoulder. “And it’s coming from our Moony, of all people. Brilliant work.”
Regulus clapped his hands together. “Enough with the monologue, I really want to get to the blocking-this-from-my-memory part if we can?”
Remus went to say something else, but then Sirius’s lips were on his. His brain explodes into a million different thoughts – this is happening. This will never happen again. God I need to start kissing back because this will never happen again.
And that’s what he does. He presses forward into the kiss, opening his mouth just a bit, and then he’s in it. Sirius tastes like peach and mint and Parliaments and everything Remus loves about coming back to Hogwarts. His hands are in Sirius’s hair – was it always this soft? – and Sirius’s are clinging to Remus’s shirt pulling him closer and closer. Remus tightens his fingers, and he can feel Sirius moan on his lips before he can hear it. There’s tongue, and a bit of teeth, and every one of Remus’s worst fantasies for the last year coming to life all at once between their lips.
When they finally break apart – due mostly to James yelling for Remus to take off Sirius’s bra – Remus realized that Sirius shifted to be fully on Remus’s lap. His legs wrapped around Remus’s torso, and their bodies pressed flush together. With a hiss, Sirius whispered, “Is that your wand, or are you just excited to see me?” A bright red flush crept onto Remus’s face, and he quickly leaned back on his hands to put some distance between him and his roommate.
Because that’s all they were. Roommates. “Enjoy the show?” Sirius asked, loud enough that the whole group could hear.
“No,” Regulus responded solemnly. The group exploded in giggles and whoops and the tension Remus felt in his chest dissipates. He’s fine. They still loved him.
“Anyone up to top that?” James asked. He glanced at Lily. “Evans?”
“Kill yourself,” She responded, before pushing to her feet. “I’m going to bed now because I don’t particularly care to see what the rest of you fucking horn dogs have up your sleeve.”
“Not even me?” Mary asked sweetly, standing too.
“Not in front of these idiots.” Lily cuffed James upside the head for good measure, then dropped her bottle on the bar. “Goodnight, my loves.”
And just like that, it seems the spell was broken. Peter followed her out faster than someone in his state of continued exhaustion ought to have been able to. Dorcas and Marlene went next, arm in arm and giggling as they swayed. Regulus gave Sirius a brisk hug, something reminiscent of the estranged in-laws Remus commented on earlier in the night. And James left cradling his bottle of scotch like the baby Remus secretly feared he might have and subsequently traumatize one day.
Then there was just Sirius, still tangled around Remus’s body.
It was Remus who spoke first, as he reached for one of the discarded fifths. “I think I oughta pull your hair more often. It might shut you up.”
He pressed the glass to his lips, still hot from Sirius’s touch, and watched him over the lip. “Yeah? Tell me, is all that lip biting gonna make me into a monster?”
Remus grinned, took a drag, looked down at his lap. Their laps. “You comfy, Padfoot?”
“Not really, Moons. You’re kind of bony. And hard.”
“Am not.” Then, he added, because he’d made enough bad decisions already, “Too drunk for that.”
A beat of silence, filled only by the roar of blood in Remus’s ears. Sirius wouldn’t meet his gaze, and he knew it. He fucked up. Sirius took the bottle from him, a frown playing on his face. “Is it…” He took a sip, then another. A third. “Is it just because you’re drunk?”
Remus had known Sirius for 6 years, but this knocked him off balance. Because this was a version of him he’d never seen. The boy with devil-may-care-and-probably-more-than-I-do attitude was gone; in its place sat someone small, and scared. Someone who, for some reason, seemed to actually want the answer.
Remus shifted, as much as he could under the other boy. “I… Don’t hate me.” And it hurt to say and it hurt to think and Remus ripped back the bottle to have something. “No, Padfoot. I don’t think so.”
And all of the sudden it happened again. The bottle clattered to the hard wood and Sirius’s face smashed into his and the world was electric and pulsating and endless. There were hands under shirts and kisses on necks and
watch those teeth
it’s not gonna turn you you
do you want to explain that hickey to James
and
when did you know
when you threw up peppermint schnapps and couldn’t stop singing john denver
go to hell
come with me then.
And that night, when they snuck into their dorm and Sirius pulled him into his bed, Remus couldn’t help but think of all the times they’d pressed together just like this to keep their nightmares at bay. Tonight, though, as he fell into a love-drunk stupor, his only dreams were of their new, collective future. They were going to be infinite.