Compliment
The minute they were alone, Remus was kissing Sirius. They couldn’t stay apart, really, unable to go more than twelve hours without a secretive stolen kiss. Thankfully, Minnie had agreed to lowering costs for the tour by having them share rooms. Remus roomed with Sirius, while James and Marlene had their own separate, smaller rooms. It was adequate, especially considering the amount of time Sirius wanted to spend in private with Remus.
Pittsburgh was probably lovely. Sirius would probably explore tomorrow, if they were free from the devastatingly boring torment of interviews. Maybe he and Remus could just be normal people for once, not recognized. Just a couple, holding hands and drinking coffee. Sirius knew it was far fetched, but it wouldn’t hurt to dream.
“Sirius?” Remus said, putting a gentle hand on Sirius’s shoulder. “You were spacing out. You okay?”
Sirius nodded, smiling. “I’m fine. Just love you.”
Remus smiled warmly, kissing Sirius softly. “I love you too.”
They hadn’t meant for this to happen, not really. After all, it was a drunken idea neither of them expected to remember. Sirius hadn’t at first, not until he came to, groaning about the throbbing in his head, only to be met with a gentle kiss from Remus.
He didn’t like keeping secrets. Actually, that was a lie. He didn’t mind keeping secrets, except when it was James he was keeping them from. James was always there for him, had never hidden anything from him. Sirius knew that James was trustworthy, never the type to rat them out, and he knew how guilty Remus felt about it, but he knew Remus was adamant about keeping this secret. He had never wanted fame, never wanted the cameras. It had been Sirius’s fault Remus ended up in the limelight. He couldn’t ask Remus to take any more publicity. Not when there was so much they both wanted to hide.
Sirius’s phone vibrated, interrupting the sweet silence they had made. Remus watched him, smirking slightly, as he stood up, fishing for clothing from his suitcase.
Remus sat on the bed, smirking at him. “Aren’t you going to check your phone?”
Sirius laughed. “Don’t need to. You know that, Moons. Come on, get ready. James is waiting on us.”
Sirius could hear Remus peeling off his beige sweater (Sirius never thought beige could be attractive until he met Remus), and then his black t-shirt, revealing scars that Sirius had seen before. They were a sore subject for Remus, so Sirius never pressed for details. He didn’t really need to. He had met Remus’s father before.
Sirius turned to look at Remus, warm, uncovered skin. Remus always looked so warm. “Changing in front of me? Really? Have you no shame?” Sirius joked.
Remus smiled warmly. “Well, I was changing behind you, but you decided to turn around.”
Sirius stood up, walking to Remus and grabbing his hips, his thumbs brushing against bare skin. “Couldn’t help it. You’re just too pretty.”
Remus chuckled, flicking him gently in the forehead. “Go get dressed, Pads.”
Sirius grinned brightly. He went back to kneeling over his suitcase, looking through pile after pile of flashy clothing. These were the most Sirius things he owned. He hadn’t had much freedom growing up, finding it in music, and his clothing. The first day after he left, he went shopping, buying the clothing that made him feel free, like a rockstar. He always wanted to be a rockstar.
He eventually picked out an outfit that felt right. Something fully black, and lace for the top, latex leggings with deep pockets, and a silver-studded belt. The only thing that didn’t look shiny and flamboyant were his scuffed doc martens, with yellow laces that were frayed at the ends. He couldn’t help staring into the mirror, smirking at his reflection. He felt attractive, pretty. He felt like a star, shining and glamorous.
Remus walked up, putting his large, scarred hands on Sirius’s hips. He had four bracelets on each of his wrists, covered in round black beads. He was wearing jeans, ripped at the knees, and a simple black tank top. Remus had to lean down to kiss the top of Sirius’s head, because Remus was far too fucking tall. Sirius would’ve been so annoyed by it if Remus wasn’t so incredibly pretty.
“You look gorgeous,” Remus said softly, resting his chin on top of Sirius’s head.
“You too,” Sirius said, trying to glance up at his boyfriend. Boyfriend. A word had never sounded quite so lovely, even in his head.
Remus leaned down to kiss his cheek sweetly. “Come on, Pads. You said it yourself. James is waiting on us.”
Sound checks were irritating. It was long periods of time trying to ignore Regulus’s band being fucking good. Honestly, it wasn’t fair that Regulus could be such a little shit, but just as talented as Sirius himself. Usually his friends would leave with him, go get something to eat, and come back after Serpentine had finished. Tonight was a bit different. When Sirius and Remus arrived, resisting the urge to hold hands, James was there, watching, awestruck, as Regulus sang. It was that song he had played at the last concert. Brother, it was called. That was annoying. The Marauders were also playing a song called Brother. It was one of Sirius’s favorites. Guess that was the fault of refusing to talk to his estranged brother. It didn’t matter though. It wasn’t like Regulus would want to speak to him anyways.
James didn’t seem to notice Sirius and Remus. His eyes were trained on Regulus as he sang, not as emotionally and loudly as he did in concert, but his singing was still rather nice. But not nice enough for the awe in James’s eyes.
“Hello,” Sirius said, waving his hand in front of James’s face. “Earth to Prongs?” James blinked, turning to Sirius with a sheepish grin.
“Sorry, Pads,” James said, smiling. “I’m fine. Promise.”
Sirius grinned, standing a bit straighter. “Want to get out of here? Moony found a hot pot place that’s supposed to be pretty good, and I’ve been craving something a bit hotter.”
James seemed hesitant, glancing over at the stage, where Serpentine was still playing. Sirius wasn’t really sure why. He hadn’t been like this before. He had always been so willing to go out with them. Still, he, for some reason, seemed tense, far too comfortable where he was, watching Regulus sing. “...Sure,” James said after a while, standing up.
James had been quiet during their dinner of relatively good hot pot. Without James as their social butterfly, conversing nonstop, it was quiet and awkward, Sirius and Remus unable to talk like they did in public, and James seeming to be somewhere else.
That did seem to change though, when they returned to the venue, just in time for Serpentine to go on stage. Sirius sat backstage, doing his makeup. Red lip gloss, golden sparkly eyeshadow, and eyeliner, Sirius’s golden trio of makeup to look sexy on stage. James never wore much more than a little bit of blush to bring out the warmth in his skin, but Remus, he always needed help with his makeup. Actually, Sirius wasn’t sure if he did, or if it was just an excuse for Sirius to be close. Still, he found himself touching up the concealer over the thin scar on Remus’s face, and pushing his mousy brown hair into place. Remus tied his hair into a messy bun.
He could hear Regulus singing. It wasn’t particularly surprising that he had a lovely voice. Sirius was pretty sure it was genetic. For as awful as their family was, they were gifted with fantastic voices. Regulus was singing Brother last this time, Sirius hearing as he belted the chorus. He felt sick to his stomach as he imagined Regulus cozying up next to Crouch, like he had at the last concert. He couldn’t help the protective twinge in his gut, because no matter how awful he was, the Regulus Sirius knew deserved far better than a lowlife criminal like Crouch.
Sirius heard his cue, heard the roaring applause from the audience, and plastered on a grin.
“Good Evening, Pittsburgh!” He said cheerfully, picking up his guitar. He glanced over to see Marlene in a black crop top, picking up her hot pink bass. Sirius never really understood why she chose hot pink, but he respected the flamboyance of it. James picked up his guitar, a simple red one that Sirius knew he treasured. Sirius’s was matching, but a little brighter, shinier, less used.
Sirius grabbed the microphone, staring out happily at the audience. They were here to see him, to view him. Sirius loved it. He always knew he would, even as a kid, desperate to be a star. He cleared his throat. “It’s great to be here tonight. We are so incredibly happy to be in this incredible city, and to be here with all of you tonight. We hope you enjoy the show.”
Sirius heard the 70’s inspired background track play. This one was a more upbeat one he had written, built in sarcasm and past experiences. It felt good to write about his childhood, like every song he wrote about growing up rich, or how awful his family was, it made it hurt a little bit less. The only exception seemed to be Regulus.
“The TV's on, the woman's blonde
She talks and talks of how the rich are wrong
They cheat on wives, never pay the price
I'm a low-class guy, that sounds pretty nice”
The next part James and Remus sang with him. They had so much fun rehearsing this together, going as deep as they could go while staying in the melody.
“I want to be with the bourgeoisieses
I want to see how the bourgeoisieses party all night
I want to be with the bourgeoisieses
I want to see how the bourgeoisieses la-da-de-di
Want to be with the bourgeoisieses”
He could hear Marlene whispering her part. She enjoyed the whisper solo quite a bit, grinning ear to ear as she did it.
“The men at war, they draft the poor
No time to mourn, I'm on the dance floor
Mom and dad got my back
But I don't need that, I need a Maserati”
“I want to be with the bourgeoisieses
I want to see how the bourgeoisieses party all night
I want to be with the bourgeoisieses
I want to see how the bourgeoisieses la-da-de-di
Want to be with the bourgeoisieses”
Marlene always had fun with the background vocals on this part, singing higher and more melodically than the rest of the band.
Sirius wasn’t involved with the bridge, the melody taken on entirely by Remus, James and Marlene. Sirius only came back for the last runthrough of the chorus.
“I want to be with the bourgeoisieses
I want to see how the bourgeoisieses party all night
I want to be with the bourgeoisieses
I want to see how the bourgeoisieses la-da-de-di
Want to be with the bourgeoisieses”
They were met with applause. They always were. It was one of Sirius’s favorite things about performing. He could put so much of himself into these songs, enough for his audience to think they knew him, but they never really did. They could know what he wanted them to know, and they could give him all the praise in the world, but he would never receive pity, and he would never have to be vulnerable. He didn’t want to be known. He wanted to be seen.
The rest of the show was a success, with a couple of their most popular songs. Brother, as always, was a fantastic success. Sirius almost cried singing it. Lone Star was a newer one, but still quite popular with their audience. Fight or Flight was one of their older ones, but was still quite popular, the audience singing along throughout the song, eliciting a smile from Sirius as he sang. By the time they finished, he was quite exhausted, ready to head back to Remus’s and his room. He said a quick ‘good night’ to the stage crew and wandered off. Remus stayed behind to help the stage crew. It was sweet of him, but a shame, really. Sirius could’ve used a kiss.
As he emerged from the lobby, he saw a boy outside, perfectly neat black curls framing his face as he sucked on a cigarette. It was almost disturbing how much he looked like Sirius, when he was younger.
“Reg?” Sirius asked. Regulus turned to him, eyeing him with boredom. He had a certain coldness to him that he hadn’t had when he was just a child, and Sirius had known him. Sirius recognized it though. When you’re born into the family they were, it was easier to just put up a facade of nonchalance, and let your life fall apart. Sirius expected him to say something cruel, maybe a clipped hello, or even just walk away, leaving Sirius alone. He didn’t expect a compliment to come out of Regulus’s mouth.
“You were good,” Regulus said shortly, before dropping his cigarette and stomping it out, his hands in his pockets. He walked away without another word, leaving Sirius alone in the parking lot.