Sirius Black took a long drag from the cigarette in his hand; he huffed it out slowly, letting the smoke swirl in the cold afternoon air. The courtyard was deserted: it was too cold for anyone to stick around for more than the time it took them to get from a building to the other; also, there were probably lectures being held right then. He was left with nothing interesting to look at as he waited for his brother, freezing his butt off just because the brat didn’t like it when the car smelled like smoke.
Sirius had never been inside a university before. He almost dropped out of high school, actually, leaving the pleasure of being a swot (that their parents used to value so much) to Regulus. It wasn’t like they had enough inheritance for both of them to go anyway, so it all worked out in the end: Regulus was happy with his English Major and Sirius was getting a weird satisfaction at throwing his paintings to art directors who didn’t give much of a fuck about him. It was yet another way to torment their parents in the grave. He liked to picture Mother cursing him and rolling around in the afterlife, smoking with rage.
He was just about to send his brother a snarky text about how he was late when he finally spotted his short figure making its way towards the parking lot. Regulus was wearing the most obnoxious set of scarf and beanie he had ever seen: they were both bright red and the scarf was so big it almost covered his whole face. Sirius smirked at the memory of Alphard gifting it to him on Christmas and Regulus tightly smiling. He still wore it every day. He stepped on the remains of his cigarette.
“You’re late.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Stop, pouting. You arrived early.”
“How would you know?”
“I heard people talking about a stupid looking man who wore a leather jacket in the freezing cold, so I assumed it was you.” Sirius smirked getting inside the car. Regulus immediately turned on the heating all the way to the maximum. “I was going over some things about next week’s exam with Mr. Lupin.”
“What a good assistant you are. I bet they’re going to offer you a job after you’re done with this internship.” Sirius didn’t doubt for a second that Regulus wouldn’t have trouble to find a job. As much as he liked to joke around, his brother was dedicated. He always stayed up late, sending emails back and forth with “Mr. Lupin” and going over the program like he was the one holding the classes. Sirius could never, that was why he was mostly unemployed. “Good day?”
“Quite. We’re almost halfway through the program and Mr. Lupin was thinking about letting me take charge of one of the next lessons.”
“That’s great.” He said, taking another turn and sneakily lowering the heat. Regulus could never be too warm, even if the temperatures he would’ve wanted would likely make Sirius melt into a puddle of sweat. “Did Potter bother you again today?” Regulus groaned and Sirius loved to poke around. Especially if they were talking about the infamous Potter.
“Cornered me in the dining hall demanding me I tell him my favourite colour.” Sirius was almost certain the guy was flirting with him, but every time he suggested it Regulus would give him that look. Sirius would never admit it out loud, but Regulus was scary, like the Walburga-Black-kind of scary. It was probably because of the eyes; Sirius had always looked more like Orion. It wasn’t that Regulus really despised that Potter boy, not genuinely. He just wasn’t used to attention.
The apartment was a mess, as it was often, and he was mostly the one at fault. It was his turn to do the dishes, but he had an idea for another series of paintings and once he got started he couldn’t really stop the flow. He couldn’t pick back up where he left most of the times, so it was better if he just… rode it out. But that meant that their dishes from their takeout dinner were still marinating in the sink. Oh, and he also might have slightly stained the carpet with paint. In his defence, he hadn’t noticed he had stepped in it.
Regulus let himself drop on the sofa, immediately covering his eyes with his forearm.
“There’s this party.”
“A university party? Like, the frat kind?”
“A fancy one.” He quipped. “Professors and other probably important people will be there, maybe some students. Mr. Lupin was telling me that it would be good if I showed my face around for a bit, do some networking.”
“Sounds boring.” He said, stuffing his face in the fridge. They desperately needed to go grocery shopping. “Are you asking me to come?” He wondered because he knew him. Regulus wasn’t one for social events when there were people he liked involved, let alone old boring strangers.
“If you want to.”
“Only if there’s free drinks. I could finally meet your old-professor-boyfriend.”
“First of all, don’t call my boss my boyfriend. Also, he’s not old.” Sirius looked at him with a raised brow and his brother rolled his eyes. “He’s older, not old.”
“Tomayto Tomahto. I’ll come anyway, at least I will make it less boring.”
“You will embarrass me, won’t you?”
“Of course.”
“Please dress smartly.”
“I’m going to dress like a harlot.”
“Please. My ex-professors will be there! My boss!” Sirius smirked and Regulus threw one of his shoes right at his face.
Regulus liked his job. He loved what he had studied in university and when he saw the opportunity to be Mr. Lupin’s assistant in his lessons he took it immediately. The interviewing process had been quick: Remus Lupin was on the younger side of the university-professor age bracket and immediately told him that he loved the work he had put on his thesis. Of course you did, he had wanted to say, I cried all over that paper. The man was witty and quite the sailor for a professor, and Regulus immediately took a liking to him. He suspected that if they had met in another context, they would’ve been friends. And on top of that, he was very easy to work with: he made him aware of deadlines well in advance and never pressured him to take up more work than was needed. Oh, and he let him speak a lot in classes. It was safe to say that he had gotten extremely lucky.
The only thing that tainted his peaceful workdays was one James Potter.
They met in the university’s dining hall when James was behind him in the line to get food. “You’re Lupin’s new assistant, right?” Regulus had nodded and James had taken that as the signal to just start talking. At the end of the line and a tray full of food later, he knew that he was taking his second PhD, that he was taking some kind of informatics course, the name of his parents and that he had apparently been staring at Regulus’ ass for a while before deciding to talk to him. The last detail he carefully left out in his later retelling to his brother. Regulus had blushed, turned around and sat in the furthest corner of the hall, as far away from him as possible.
He had guessed the embarrassment would’ve been enough to keep him away for a while, but he was wrong. The next day he was right on his heels, pestering him about favourite foods and favourite drinks. Apparently, James loved Malai Kofta but particularly how his mom (Euphemia, actually) made it and wasn’t a fan of soft drinks. Giving him a once over, Regulus could guess why. James looked exactly like someone who would cut out sugar. The day after that it was all about desserts and the one after about football teams. Regulus never responded to any of them nor said much at all, besides telling James he was being annoying. Sometime along the way, James started asking more interesting questions, like his favourite book or author, and what was his thesis about.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like him. James was good-looking and didn’t seem like an asshole, but Regulus was there to work and wasn’t really in the mood for distractions. And boys with tanned skin and large eyes and broad shoulders were very distracting. So, he mostly ignored him, and James kept pestering him.
“Reg.”
“Potter.”
“You look good today. Well, you always do, but today especially. I like the jumper.” Regulus looked down at what he was wearing. The jumper was Sirius’ and slightly bigger on him but it was the warmest they had. It was well loved and a lot of threads were pulled and there was generally nothing remarkable about it. And yet James was still looking at him with a lopsided smile on his face.
“Thanks?” He turned around to go back in line, and James followed closely.
“Do you like coffee?” Regulus rolled his eyes, even if James couldn’t see. “Because if you do, I was wondering if you would like to maybe grab one? With me?”
“No.”
“No? No, you don’t like coffee or no, you wouldn’t like to get one with me?”
“Both.” Regulus grabbed some bread and pushed the tray along towards the vegetables section.
“What about hot chocolate? Or a milkshake?”
“Oh my God.” He looked at him sideways in what was supposed to be an intimidating look, but the boy just smiled. “I don’t get why you keep talking to me. Find someone else to try and bring to your room.”
“I try, but then you keep walking in front of me in line and suddenly I forget everyone else.” He would’ve liked to point out that he was the one who kept following him around like a lost puppy, but he had reached the register. He tried to pull out the badge that the university gave him to not have to pay his lunches, but James stopped him by putting his hand on his wrist. He would have panicked, but he had uncannily warm hands. He got distracted, alright? “I’ll get it.”
“They pay for my lunch, you know?”
“Yeah, but I’ll pay. At least we could call this a date then.”
“Suit yourself.” Regulus swiftly turned around and made a beeline for the furthest table yet again. Just maybe, he was hiding the blush that was quickly growing hot on his cheeks.
Sirius didn’t have a lot of new clothes, but he had a lot of clothes. Granted most of them were stained by art supplies and some were hiding in a dark corner of Regulus’ wardrobe. He wanted to make an impression. There weren’t many occasions for him to make one since they had moved and didn’t have many friends to go out with anymore. He used to love to walk into a place and have everyone’s eyes immediately glued to him.
Of course, his brother would’ve love for him to just not, mostly because attention on Sirius also meant attention on him. But he still pulled out of a dusty corner a completely see-through lacey top, that sat forgotten right at the bottom. He pulled on a suit jacket, just so Regulus wouldn’t bother him too much, but his tattoos were still on full display. Scandalous enough to make his brother, dressed far more smartly, groan at the mere sight of him.
The party was held in one of the campus’ furthest buildings, in a fancy hall that looked to be a couple centuries old, if you asked him. There were flutes of champagne passed around and some kind of posh tarts that Sirius would never dare to touch. It was too reminiscent of home and family dinners. Regulus grabbed a glass for himself and lightly sipped from it, while he opted to take two, immediately downing one of them in one swift gulp.
He mostly stuck to Regulus’ side, following him around like a kid with his mother, as he made his way to a less crowded corner of the room. A couple of people stopped him, mostly professors, just to exchange a polite greeting and an uninterested question and he politely introduced him to all of them; the tip of his ears turned progressively redder with every glance an old man stole at Sirius’ chest.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“If Alphard were here, he’d compliment my choice of clothing.”
“That’s because he’s a degenerate.” Regulus sipped again and leaned back against the wall as he stared at the sea of people in front of him. There was a soft classical music playing, barely loud enough to be heard above the chatter. He could almost hear the ghost of their mother’s heels clicking in the distance. She would have liked it: a bunch of overdressed middle-aged rich people, sipping champagne and munching on little tarts as they talked about… Sirius had no idea. “God, I hate these things. I don’t even know why I’m here.”
“Also, this champagne fucking sucks.” Regulus huffed a laugh. “Where’s your professor boyfriend anyway?”
“Siri- You know what, forget it. He’s right there, talking with fucking Potter.” And that was something Sirius just couldn’t miss. He followed his line of sight, straight to a tall guy wearing an impressively tight red shirt that stuck to all the right places. He was fit and he could tell from afar he was a charmer, just by his smile. He wouldn’t have pinned him as his brother type, but judging by how quickly his glass was now emptying, he definitely was.
“That’s Potter?” He was talking with a taller man who must have been the famous Mr. Lupin.
And oh fuck.
Oh, did he understand the “older, not old” mindset Regulus had. He was tall with the softest looking honey locks, just a few grey hairs from what he could see from afar; he had a sharp nose and tanned skin, dotted by warm freckles and a couple of thin scars running across his nose. And his hands. Sirius knees were wobbly, and he wasn’t even close enough to hear his voice. And if everything else hadn’t already been enough to make him swoon, there was a cigarette hanging from his lips, lit, inside. Sirius didn’t know you could smoke inside this kind of events. Wasn’t it a fire hazard? “That’s Mr. Lupin?” Regulus full on laughed at that, eyes squinting and bubbling from deep in his chest. Was Sirius’ mouth hanging open? Potter’s head snapped towards them at the sound and immediately made excuses to then make his way in their direction.
“Oh, fuck.” Sirius would’ve given anything to stay and watch what was about to unfold, but he had other plans. He grabbed the empty glass from his brother’s hands and raised his brows.
“Would you look at that, you ran out of champagne. That’s inacceptable. I better go and get you some more.”
“Siri.”
“Sorry Reggie, I can’t leave you with an empty glass.” Regulus glared, but Sirius turned and left him there, just before Potter reached him.
He tried not to look too suspicious as he made his way towards Regulus’ boss. As not suspicious as you can be, walking with empty glasses in the opposite direction of the refill table. He passed him, making sure to lightly bump into his shoulder. “Fuck sorry, didn’t see you there.” What a lie.
Mr. Lupin’s eyes were a burning amber, and they were skimming all over him without an ounce of shame, like he was something delicious and they had been starving. It sent shivers all over him. He might as well have been in love already, just like that. When they finally ran back up to his face, the corner of his mouth curved slightly up, the cigarette still holding on for dear life. “Oh.” He said, and Sirius almost fell to his knees at the slight rasp in his voice. “You must be Regulus’ brother. The similarities are… uncanny.” Sirius smiled.
“You must be professor Lupin, then.”
“In the flesh.” The man extended a hand and he wanted nothing more than hold it, but both of his were busy carrying empty glasses. “Fuck. Let’s fix that, let me get you something better than that cheap shit.” And Sirius was right on his tail, Regulus long forgotten in the opposite corner of the room.
“I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Well, I’m not sure why I did actually.” He had to expect it. Mr. Lupin was exactly Sirius type, so he shouldn’t have been surprised that he immediately ran off with him. Leaving him with Potter, out of everyone. And James was dangerous that night, with his wild hair and the fucking shirt. Regulus decided then and there that he hated that shirt with a passion, the way it pulled around his shoulders and the first two buttons unbuttoned. He hated it.
“I’m glad you did anyway.” He smiled his signature James Potter smile, and he would have given anything to hide behind the rim of a glass. “Do you want a drink? We can grab one, if you want?” and it wasn’t like he had options, so he followed him to the table and let him push a glass in his hand. After all, he doubted Sirius was really getting him a drink.
For a while he really tried to not engage too much with him, in the hopes that Sirius would just come back to save him sooner rather than later. But it was difficult when James kept talking and being funny, and replacing every glass he downed with a brand new one. He was starting to feel tipsy and his will to block him out was faltering. He was starting to giggle at his comments about the professors that stopped occasionally by them to ask polite questions. “I know from a reliable source, that he always tries to flirt with the young lady at the front help desk of the main building.” He would say after yet another man had left their side.
“He’s a dinosaur, though.”
“Well, apparently he still has game.” Regulus chuckled.
“And who’s the reliable source?”
“Well, me of course. I have to witness it every morning.”
Somehow, they kept talking, and suddenly James got him to talk about his thesis and he even made him blurt out that his favourite colour was green. He didn’t know if James was a wizard or he just had too much cheap champagne, but he was enjoying himself for once. James talked a lot, and he mostly made Regulus dizzy with information, but it was also sweet in the way he couldn’t help but overshare, to the point he was left listening wide eyed at a passionate description on how to make the best mac and cheese in the microwave, lips parted and eyes glassy.
At some point during their conversation, Regulus had started subconsciously leaning against him, as James finally swapped his flutes for glasses of water. “You’re cute when you’re tipsy, but I don’t think this is the best place to get wasted.”
“Siri would disagree.”
“Where is he? I thought I could at least meet him.”
“Ran off and left me with you. He thinks you have a crush on me.”
“Well, I do. A huge one, actually. I feel like it’s getting worse as we speak.” He made a scene of checking his temperature with the back of his hand. “I thought I made it quite obvious. Was I not obvious?”
“Quite, yeah.” His speech was a little slurred but he was still sober enough to know that if he hadn’t been blushing already from the alcohol he would be for sure if James didn’t shut up.
“I feel like tonight is my lucky night, so I’ll ask again.” Regulus stared up at him, still hanging from his arm. “Would you get breakfast with me? Monday maybe?” Regulus stared at him for a while. James’ cheeks were also slightly pink, even if it wasn’t as easy to tell with his tanned skin, and maybe it was the alcohol but his eyes were so bright they almost sparkled. He smelled good, like clean clothes and champagne and maybe Regulus could blame the drinks but he wasn’t sure he could hold up his walls anymore; James was too warm. So.
“Yeah.” And the smile James gave him back was enough of a prize already. “You can pay.”
Sirius wasn’t sure how they ended up there. One moment Remus (that was his name, a very nice one, if you’d ask him) was bribing a poor waiter for some Whiskey, and the other he was pulling him through empty corridors, turning corners progressively further away from the sounds of the party, and into a big study, all mahogany wood and old looking books. Sirius sat on the huge desk that dominated the centre of the room, propping himself right in the middle of it, dangling his legs from the edge.
“Is this your study?” The desk was a mess, filled with loose papers, open textbooks and an ashtray about to spill over.
“What gave me away?”
“I’m not an expert, but I think most of the men out there smoke cigars, if at all, and perhaps not inside their workplace.” He said eyeing the ashtray. Remus nodded and inched closer, putting his almost empty glass right next to his thigh. He left his hand there, inches away from touching him, and leaning on it. He could feel the heat radiating off him and at that point if Sirius managed resisting jumping him, he would demand some sort of award. He spotted the shape of a box in the pocket of his suit, high on his chest and slipped his fingers inside, stealing a cigarette for himself. He had his very own tucked in the waistband of his trousers but stealing them sure sounded sexier. Remus’ look told him that he wasn’t the only one thinking that. But he did get out his own lighter, the fancy metal one Reggie had gotten him for his birthday and huffed out a cloud of smoke right at Remus’ face. The man smirked.
“Do you mind sharing?”
“Not with you.” Sirius thanked whatever god was out there to already be sitting when Remus’ finger grazed his lip as he plucked the cigarette from where it was still tucked between his.
In their short time together, Sirius had understood a few things. First, Remus was not married, nor had any sort of commitment that would keep him away from him: it had been like his eyes had been unintentionally glued to his left hand, at least until Remus had noticed and outward told him that no, he wasn’t married. Second, the man was smart: of course, he was, he was a professor after all, but he was just all around intelligent; he had asked Sirius what he did for a living, and when Sirius mentioned painting he launched himself into a brilliant reflection around techniques and subjects that left him with an excess of saliva crowding his mouth. Third, he was sweet: he never interrupted, and always gave him his full attention when he was talking, offering insights, and asking questions. Sirius was used to people being attracted to him, not so much to people who genuinely paid attention. “Why did you take me here, professor Lupin?”
“Please, your brother calls me that. Just call me Remus, yeah?”
“What, it makes you uncomfortable?”
“Quite the opposite actually.” The way Remus was staring at him, was making him squirm in his place, keeping his hands firmly clasped between his legs to keep them at bay. “I really don’t want to think about you when I’m working with your brother.”
Then it was almost as if something sparked between them, like the fuse that had been burning the whole night had finally ran out. He wasn’t sure who leaned in first, but Sirius surged forward, pulled by some very persistent gravity, and wrapped his hands around Remus face, and they finally kissed. The build-up felt longer that it really was; it was barely a couple hours, maybe less, but it felt like he had been thirsty for a lifetime and kissing Remus was the oasis he had been looking for. Remus’ lips were chapped but still soft as they moved against his, and his stubble itched the palm of his hand. The man moved in between his legs, his fingers slowly slipping under the edge of his top. Without even thinking about it, Sirius parted his lips, letting Remus take complete control of him. It felt like they had been kissing for hours, and it had only been a minute.
“I’ve never seen anyone turn up at this kind of thing dressed like this.” He murmured against his lips.
“Do you like it?”
“The fuck I do.” Sirius laughed but he was quickly cut off by the gasp that was stripped from his throat when Remus started to trail hot kisses along the side of his neck. His hands kept inching up, and Sirius decided to do some exploring of his own, trailing his nails along the expanse of his back. They were both breathless and the room’s temperature was spiking quickly. Was he really about to fuck his brother’s boss in his studio? Right on papers ready to be marked? He shouldn’t have found it as hot as he did. “Fuck.” Remus exhaled, pressing his forehead to his shoulder. “We should slow down.”
“Should we?” Sirius nipped at Remus ear. Was that an earring hole he felt under his tongue? That might have been Sirius’ best night ever. The idea of Remus with an earring made his insides twist.
“It’s not the best place.” He commented. His kissed him once, brief and light on the lips. Then again, and again. “Believe it or not, I’m a gentleman.”
“Are you now?” Sirius just couldn’t stop chasing his lips. It was something hidden between the taste of whiskey and his toothpaste that he just couldn’t seem to get enough of. He would’ve sold a kidney to bring Remus home with him. Or let Remus take him home. “I’m Regulus’ ride. I want you to know that I really fucking wish I wasn’t right now.” Remus laughed and it was the clearest sound Sirius had ever heard in his life, he was sure. He wanted to paint Remus’ laugh for the rest of his days, capture the glint in his eyes or the quirk in his brow, match the colour of his eyes and recreate the softness of his hair.
“It’s probably for the best anyway.” That was it. Was he going to ask for a date? Would Sirius be the one to make the first move? Because there was no way he was going to let that man slip away without a fight. He would dig his nails in the firm flesh of his shoulders, if it came down to it. But maybe it wasn’t necessary. “So, what do you say about dinner? Perhaps, tomorrow?”
“Dinner, huh?”
“I told you, I’m a gentleman.”
“Still eager, though. Tomorrow, you say?” Remus kissed him again, a little longer but not deep, just the touch of lips. Sirius chased him when he tried to part, not letting him get too far. “Alright. Type your number in my phone, professor Lupin.” Remus laughed again, and Sirius wondered how on earth he was going to resist till the next evening.
On the ride home, they were both silent. Regulus had noticed the puffiness in Sirius’ lips, and Sirius had noticed the flush on his little brother’s cheeks. Neither of them said nothing about it, not until the next morning. Because Sirius just couldn’t wait to talk about his brand-new hot professor and was jumping all around the kitchen like a child on Christmas morning. Regulus didn’t share much because there was less to share. But Sirius clocked him immediately. Regulus was being shy because he was secretly excited. He was like that when they were kids as well, turning silent whenever something he really wanted was brought up. Sirius suspected it was their mother’s fault, because of the way she liked to take away things dear to them, so he tried to not let anyone notice. He did though. For once, he wasn’t even in the mood to poke him about it.
Sirius spent the whole day in his home studio. Filled canvas after canvas, almost as if the paint was flowing directly from the tips of his fingers, an extension of what was happening inside his head. Which was a lot, frankly. A lithany of Remus, Remus, Remus. It was those damned hands really, and the hair and the ambers in his eyes and the way their breaths would mix when they kissed. He felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin any moment.
At least Remus, oh wonderful Remus, had the brilliant idea to take him out to dinner less than twenty-four hours after they parted. Sirius could resist a couple hours more without going insane. He just met the man and was already making plans to get in way too deep, to plunge headfirst with no plans of ever resurfacing. Had he been barely responsible, he would have forced himself to calm down.
A knock on the door made him still right in the middle of a quivering line that crossed the canvas he was working on, and he stared at it like he wasn’t even aware of what he had been doing. His brother didn’t wait for him to invite him to step inside and immediately snickered.
“It’s worse than I thought.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
“No, I mean it’s something. I’m sure he’d appreciate… you doing that.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“And you’re late.”
“What?” Sirius immediately scrambled to get to where his phone laid abandoned on the floor, face down. He looked at the time and Regulus was right; he was already late. To think that he wanted to take his time in the shower for once. “Fuck.”
“That’s why I came in here. Thought you wanted to look presentable!” Regulus shouted somewhere behind him as he launched himself in the bathroom. He plunged in the shower before the water had the chance to get warm. It had been a while since he had a proper date. Actually, he wasn’t sure he even had one in the first place. Normally, people would find him hot in the club, they would grind against each other for a while, possibly make out against a wall; some of them had a chance to get ten steamy minutes in the dirty bathrooms, other luckier ones he would follow home. Sirius had never had someone properly take him out to a dinner that wasn’t three am McDonalds. It probably said something about him. Or maybe it just said a lot about them.
It was a new feeling. Someone coming to pick him up in their car and taking him somewhere nice. It felt like he was being shown off, not relegated to a drunken shag in the backrooms of a club. There was warmth all over and his toes felt tingly, like if he jumped high enough he wouldn’t come back down, like he could fly. And Remus was a deal. He was the most gorgeous man he had ever seen, he was pretty sure, and he couldn’t wait to take a peak at what was inside that giant mind of his. Oh, and Regulus liked him which said something. He never liked anyone, sometimes not even his own brother.
He barged in his brother’s room without knocking and holding up two shirts, feeling like he was sixteen all over again. Well, he didn’t do any of that at sixteen; their parents wouldn’t have let him be picked up by a boy for a date. It was a date, right?
“Which one?”
“They look terrible. Both of them.”
“No, they don’t!”
“Can’t you just be… subtle for once? He’s a professor after all.”
“Remus likes that I’m scandalous.”
“Of course, he does.” Reg rolled his eyes, then flicked them once again in between the two garments in his hands. “If it was me, I’d go with the white. But since the aim seems to be a harlot once again, do the red one.”
Sirius had barely slipped on his shoes when his phone ringed and Remus’ name stared at him above a brief message telling him he was already there. Sirius bid Reg goodbye, which was met with yet another eyeroll, and slipped down the stairs, almost breaking his ankle with the rush of getting outside. And it was worth it.
Remus Lupin was so effortlessly mouthwatering it was going to kill him. He wasn’t sure if it was the way he was leaning on the car with a cigarette loosely hanging from his lips, or the way he was looking at him like he was about to eat him, or perhaps the professor attire. Maybe it was just him. The plan of keeping his hands to himself was going to be harder than he imagined.
“Hi.” He breathed out when he reached him. To keep himself from kissing him, Sirius plucked the cigarette right from his lips and took a drag. Remus smirked.
“Well, hello to you. Don’t you look delicious.” Sirius aim had been to look “delicious”, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to blush under the man’s scorching gaze. If he kept that up, his skin was going to blister. “Ready?”
And of course Remus really was a gentleman. He opened the door for him and let him decide the music for the short trip. He asked him about his paintings, because he remembered, and Sirius tried his best not to embarrass himself by telling him he had been painting him all day.
The restaurant Remus picked wasn’t properly fancy but it was nice. The lights were dim and the music soft, and everyone was talking in hushed tones. There was a flower on their table and a candle and Sirius had to physically pull his eyes away from the way the light was casting gentle shadows on his face. Remus got them white wine because Sirius had mentioned that red wines made his face grow hot and itchy, and didn’t try to order food for him.
Sirius’ will was struggling, so it didn’t take long for his foot to find Remus’ crossed ones under the table. The other man’s lips curved up, but he still glared at him over the rim of his glass.
“I’m trying to woo you.”
“Well, you’re succeeding. No need to hold back.”
“I want to do things properly.”
“You can. I won’t make it easy, though.”
The dinner was straight out of a dream he didn’t even know he had. Remus was keeping his cool despite Sirius doing his best to break him and at some point he forgot all about it, too busy venting about art directors in the city and listening to rants about exams and deadlines. Sirius was never academically gifted, nor really a fan of school as a whole: it felt surreal that he had found himself so attuned to a professor of all people. Regulus used to joke that one day he would bring home some posh tormented artist, and yet.
It was scary how much he liked him after so little they spent together. He could only hope Remus was feeling even a single ounce of the gravitational pull he was feeling. It would have been devastating, if not.
After dinner, they walked for a little bit, tipsy on wine and giggling with their heads close together. Sirius was hanging from Remus’ elbow and his shirt kept slipping down his shoulder, continuously attracting the other’s eyes like a magnet. He felt warm all-over, like he could run a marathon under the pouring rain without catching a cold. If that was what being with him felt like, he could easily get addicted to it.
When Remus car stopped in front of the apartment building Sirius sighed.
“I think you’ve been very proper.”
“Sirius.”
“I think you’ve been very proper but I also think that if you want you should come up and sip on a drink on my sofa.” Remus was smiling and he knew he had won already.
“Just on the sofa?”
“Depends on how proper you intend to be on said sofa.”
In the end, they didn’t even make a move towards said sofa, nor the spirits cabinet in their kitchen for what was worth. As soon as the door was closed, Sirius’ back was pressed to it and Remus lips were dancing some kind of very inappropriate groove against his. His hands were slipping under his shirt and Sirius felt like he was catching on fire all over again. It was urgent, something that had been building up from the night prior, but never harsh. There was a softness in the way Remus dragged his teeth lightly along the column of his throat, and his finger were so delicate as they trailed paths along his hips. They stayed at the door for a long time before Remus finally took matters in his hands and picked Sirius up under his thighs to lead them towards the bedroom. It took all his control to stay lucid enough to lead them towards the right door: Reggie wouldn’t have been happy to be waken up by him and his boss aggressively making out in his room.
Remus had tried to take a look around as soon as they stumbled through the door of his room, but it wasn’t like Sirius was just going to let him have a wander. His hands felt sticky, as if he was physically unable to keep them away from his skin. They kept wondering, hastily pushing his jacket from his shoulders, finally revealing the way the starchy shirt underneath clinged to his arms and shoulders. He wasn’t sure if he just wanted to look at him for a while or keep devouring his face until he ran out of oxygen. Remus fucking giggled.
“Eager much?”
“You have no idea.”
“I feel like I’ll have some idea soon.”
The way Remus’ fingers delicately unbuttoned his shirt, deliberately grazing every inch of skin as soon as it was exposed, sent shivers down his back. Maybe that was even hotter that if he had just ripped it open. Sirius was a lot less patient, a lot more frantic, pulling at fabrics and nails scraping everywhere. Remus liked it, though. With every low moan pressed against his lips, Sirius was closer and closer to his breaking point.
Somehow, they ended up stumbling towards his bed, Sirius flopping on his back and his hair flailing up all over the place. Then Remus cupped his cheek and just stared at him, his face mere inches from his and his breath crashing right against his lips. Sirius could still taste the wine on the tip of his tongue. Everything slowed down, the earth wasn’t spinning anymore and time was inching slower, as Remus’ thumb pulled on his lower lip.
“You’ll ruin me.”
“Does it bother you?”
“Not really, no.” When they kissed again, Sirius could feel the sound of those words pushing against his chest.
When Regulus woke up on Monday morning, he expected a lot of things. He expected the shoes scattered in the corridor, and the eerie quiet that enveloped the apartment; he expected the additional set of keys thrown on the kitchen island and the familiar scarf draped on the back of the sofa. Sirius had always been a charmer, and he was well aware of the effect he had on people: being around him during his teen years had been… something. He was also very aware of the eyes Mr. Lupin had given him that night at the university party. So he expected their date to go well.
What he didn’t expect, was to be sitting at the counter in front of a freshly brewed cup of black coffee and witness none other than his boss stroll into the kitchen in nothing but a crumpled white shirt and his pants. If he hadn’t been on the brink of a laugh, he would’ve probably been embarrassed.
“Well, good morning to you.” He looked a mess. His hair was ruffled, he still had the pillow’s mark on his right cheek and his eyes were squinting and… well apparently his brother was mouthy. That was certainly an information he could’ve gone without. “Coffee?”
The man just grunted and let him pour him a cup, not seeming very bothered by his state in Regulus’ kitchen at all. What was an appropriate conversation topic for that kind of situation? Did you have fun? Absolutely not. Plans for the day? Useless since they both had the same exact agenda for most of the week.
“You’re up early.”
“Yeah. Can’t sleep very well most of the time.”
“Did we…?”
“Oh Jesus, no! My dead mother had more to do with it that your… nightly endeavours with my brother. By the way, don’t ever bring that up. Ever.” The bastard giggled and Regulus looked down at the screen of his phone. Giving Potter his number had clearly been a mistake: he had already sent him five messages in the span of minutes, wishing him a good morning and reminding him about their date and immediately rambling about the place they were going to go to.
The thing was that he didn’t expect much about their morning. James probably found him intriguing simply because he hadn’t paid him attention. As soon as Regulus’ novelty was be gone, he would’ve done the same many had before him: suddenly he would be busy and just stop showing up and messing with him. It was a common plot he was used to at that point. It was better not to stress about it.
Sirius chose that moment to finally drag himself into the room, in an oversized tee, hair tied up and bare feet. He immediately scrunched his face at the smell of coffee, but before he could complain his gaze dropped to the other man sitting and his face distended.
“I thought you fled.”
“I wouldn’t.” They smiled at each other, and Sirius immediately dropped in his lap and started peppering kisses along his jaw.
“Please, not in the kitchen.” Sirius threw him the finger, but he was already turning around to get going. If he didn’t want to be late, he probably should’ve hurried anyway. “Heading out.”
“Do you want me to give you a lift?” Regulus was surprised that it was Lupin that offered.
“Thanks, but I have somewhere to be first.”
He didn’t stay longer to hear whatever stupid remark Sirius would be throwing his way, and just grabbed his bag from where he had set it next to the door and slipped outside as fast as possible.
Let’s get this over with.
The café James had been going on about wasn’t far from campus; tucked in a secondary street just five minutes on foot from the building he worked in, it was small and with big windows, and the display of fresh baked goods was nothing if not inviting. His immediate thought was that it looked like a James-place, full of light and with bright coloured chairs and art all over the place. He was already inside: he had claimed one of the window seats, the one with the small sofa looking out on the street and Regulus could immediately spot him both because of his unruly mass of hair and the hideous yellow shirt he was wearing. When James saw him he bolted up and let him pick his seat while he went at the counter to get them something to drink. Regulus sat where he just was, relishing in the lingering heat a little too much.
“Since you get you coffee black – which, ew by the way – I thought it would be good for you to get a little bit of a selection.” The plate he placed in front of him was borderline embarrassing. Regulus suspected he just asked the poor girl at the counter to give him one of everything they had. Which was a lot, clearly.
“I’m not a fan of sweets.” Lie. He used to love them before Walburga tainted even that one good thing they had.
“You’ll be a fan of these, believe me. Especially the ones with the powdered sugar on top; they fill them with this delicious raspberry jam-”
“I’m allergic to raspberries.” Regulus mustered the best dead face, products of so many years of practiced indifference, but it was very difficult to maintain a straight face with the way James’ mouth had dropped open. His face was so genuinely mortified, Regulus erupted in laughter immediately after. It was impossible with the way his eyes had widened and he had started to open and close his mouth like a fucking fish. “You’re too easy.”
“I’d punch you if you weren’t so cute.” Regulus was probably blushing. He was almost certain.
It was a little awkward for a while after his cruel joke, but Regulus quickly found out that talking to James sober wasn’t as bad as he thought. Maybe the night hadn’t been bearable just because he had been intoxicated. Maybe James was good with conversations. He had launched into a detail explanation into how all the pieces hung in the café were actually from young artists that frequented the university, some of which he even knew by name.
“My friend, Lily, she comes in at least once a month to give them some of her newest pieces. Mary keeps some of them, but the rest she hangs with the others. The one in the corner is actually a portrait Lily made of her. I convinced her to hang it in the shop instead of keeping it, for now.”
“It’s a very good piece. It deserves to be shown off.” Regulus stared at the intricate way Lily’s brush strokes interlocked into each other in the complicated pattern of Mary’s curls. It was so different from the art Sirius constantly left around the apartment, brighter and softer somehow.
“Your brother is an artist, right? Sirius?”
“Yes. He’s trying, at least. But- how do you-”
“Oh, you mentioned it the other night. You also said he’s having a hard time with it.” That was putting it gently. Sirius didn’t have the best approach to people who didn’t get his art. He was… touchy about it. Needless to say that word between art directors got around and he didn’t have the best reputation among local galleries.
“He doesn’t know how to butter people up.”
“Oh, yes. The infamous networking.”
“Exactly. He’s a little stubborn about his work. Understandable, but still. He doesn’t make the best impressions.”
“He could bring some pieces here. It’s not like it’s going to make him money but it’s still good exposure. Sometimes this friend of mine, Peter, holds meetings with his father’s colleagues here. They have a small gallery and host small exhibitions about artists they really like.”
“Oh.”
“Lily works with them sometimes. You two could come along to her next one, I’ll introduce them.”
“You’d do that?”
“Yeah, sure.” There was nothing in the way James was looking at him that could make him think this was a ploy. A ploy for what, exactly? There was no need to drag his brother’s depressing career into this if he just wanted to make an impression on him. So what was he doing?
“Why?” He inquired. “You haven’t even seen any of his paintings.”
“That’s true. But I’m not much of an art critic anyway. He could be shit or he could be good, but how would he know if none of the right people even looked at the art just because he’s… what? A little prickly? He deserves a chance.” Oh. Oh. So, James was… just good? Nothing dodgy about it? And what he had said, about being prickly and deserving a chance… the way he was looking at him right in the eyes told him that he wasn’t just talking about Sirius. Maybe it was also about them, just a little.
But did Regulus have something to offer him besides his being… prickly? Was what laid under it enough to justify the effort? What if the rest of him wasn’t as interesting? What then?
When Regulus entered Mr Lupin’s class late for the first time since he got the job and with a suspicious tint to his cheeks, nobody made any comments. He was a bit off for the rest of the day: his answers were delayed and he got a little distracted as he was handing out papers and accidentally sent some of them flying all over the place. Thankfully his boss (weird, since he had seen the man in his pants just that morning) found his mental state funny and refrained from chastising him for his lack of professionalism. He skipped lunch, just that once. Not because he was trying to avoid James, but he mostly needed some time to sort out what was happening inside his head. So, he just ate a sandwich on the other side of Mr. Lupin’s desk as the other man tapped at the screen of his phone with a stupid smile plastered on his face.
James’ last message was still staring at him:
???
Just that.
“Sirius wants to know if takeaway is fine.” Regulus rolled his eyes.
“He could’ve texted me.”
“We’re already talking.”
“Do I have to assume you’ll be joining us?”
“You bet.”
“Then it’s fine. If he tries to impress you in the kitchen, we’re going to have to call an ambulance.”
“For whom?”
“That’s a question I’m not sure you want the answer to.”
Sirius was waiting for Regulus in the car that time, no cigarette in sight. It was getting way too cold to just lounge about in his attire (which he wasn’t going to change, thank you very much) so he opted to stare into the empty campus by the comfortable seat in his warm car. Regulus had been weird since his supposed breakfast-date three days prior. He hadn’t told him anything, which he honestly expected, but on top of that he had this aura around him that made Sirius not want to ask. He was a naturally noisy person, always looking for the opportunity to prod and poke his nose in other people’s business (mostly those who were close to him). There was something in the way Regulus was holding himself after the date, in the way he looked a little out of it that was so out of character for him. Sirius was scared to set him off.
They weren’t exactly fine. They were doing better since getting their own place together and mostly since their parents had stepped foot into the beyond, but that didn’t mean that the damage didn’t still linger. When they were good, they were good. But in moments like this, when even just one of them was out of sorts it felt like stepping on broken glass.
He wasn’t surprised when he saw his brother make his way towards the car with his scarf pulled up over his nose and his gaze stuck to the ground. He wasn’t surprised when he slipped inside without a word and closed the door behind him a little too harshly. What baffled him was seeing another person jogging right in their direction with at least three plastic bags, looking out of breath. What shocked him even more was the discovery that it was none other than James Potter that was now furiously tapping against the window. Regulus looked as surprised as he was to see him. Perhaps he wasn’t aware the man was trailing behind him.
Regulus pulled the window down.
“Hey, hi. Yes. Alright, how are you?” Sirius observed the way Regulus lips parted and the way James was smiling so wide until he realised he was there and immediately scrambled. “Oh, yes! You must be Sirius! Nice to meet you, hi to you to.”
“James? What’s your problem?”
“Oh! Yes! I just noticed you didn’t come to the dining hall for the past three days and I wasn’t sure if you had plans, but still you never had plans before- no, wait, not that you can’t have plans! It’s just that I wasn’t sure if you were eating?” Sirius knew the recent development of the lunches just because Remus mentioned they had started to have lunch together in his studio. Sirius had slapped him on the arm because he let his brother eat in the same spot they had first snogged. “So I thought I could go after you with something good, so I bunked off my last lesson to go to this very nice place around the corner.”
“James I-”
“But I wasn’t sure if you had ever had Indian food before. Like proper. This is proper. Anyway, I also wasn’t sure what you would’ve liked so I just told the poor lady to get me a whole lot of stuff, presuming your brother would eat with you and you could maybe share- that’s you Sirius. And the plan was to wait outside the class for you-” James was speaking so fast, he could barely keep up and Reg had this look on his face that told him he was getting a little overwhelmed.
“Wait, I-”
“- but I ordered so much stuff it took longer than anticipated and you were already gone. But Lupin told me Sirius was probably picking you up so I decided I might as well make a run for it. Have I told you, you walk fast?”
“It’s the gay walk.” He commented.
“Sirius!” Regulus groaned and pressed his fingers tight on his eyes. Potter was now looking at him intently, waiting for him to comment anything about the very long stream of consciousness he had just dumped all over them. Reg looked at him, then at the bags, eyes wide and lips parted. “You brought me food?”
“Yeah?”
“Because I wasn’t in the hall?”
“Isn’t that what I just said?” It was a sight. Personally, Sirius thought it was cute. The guy bunked off one of his lessons just because he thought Regulus wasn’t eating. Sirius liked him already. Maybe that was what prompted him to do what he did next.
“It seems like a lot. Do you want to pop by? There’s no way we can eat all that.” The look Regulus gave him was screaming what the fuck are you doing. His left eyelid was twitching.
“Huh.” To his credit, James didn’t respond. He just looked at Regulus, almost as if he was asking for permission to say yes. Sirius really hoped he would cave. If Regulus wasn’t willing to share with the class, maybe he would just have to see the situation for himself. Assess if it was a problem or a blessing.
“It’s fine.” Which in Regulus’ terms meant that he would rather bury himself alive but just couldn’t say no while looking at Potter’s face. “I’ll text you the address.”
Sirius didn’t escape a lecture on the way home, but it was certainly tamer than he had expected. With how tight Regulus had been wound up the past couple of days. He had half expected him to bite his ear off or push him out of the car just to run him over a couple of times.
Potter had fucking hopped up the stairs when they got there and had them take out actual plates so they could better split the food. He secretly hoped he would also offer to wash them; he seemed like the type.
“Has Reg told you about the exhibition I was telling him about?”
“Huh. Not really, no. What’s that about?”
“A friend of mine, Peter. He works with his father at his gallery. An art one. I invited both of you to their next exhibition. I know you’re an artist and I thought I could introduce you to them, if that’s alright?” Sirius’ mouth was fully hanging open, staring at James Potter, who had just offered to help him… potentially get his own exhibition? Was he hearing him right? Mistaking his silence, James looked down at his plate, pushing the food around. “Well, I hope I haven’t overstepped, I just- Reg mentioned your experiences with art directors and I just.”
“Fuck yes.” He blurted out. “Of course we’ll be there. I just- thank you. That’s just very… kind of you.”
“It’s nothing. I just thought you and your art deserve a better chance.” Regulus winced, for some reason. It made Sirius’ eyes zone in on him immediately, call it his brother-senses. “Speaking of which, I’d love to see them when you have time.”
“Yeah. There’s some hang in the living room, actually.” Sirius was still looking at his brother, at the way he was picking at the skin of his thumb and how he wasn’t really looking up. “You could get a peak, if you want.” James eagerly jumped up and strolled around the living room. Regulus didn’t even seem to notice the movement. He seemed deep in thought, but he had no clue about what. Was there something about what James said? He just seemed like a very nice guy, genuinely. Was he missing something? Was James being an asshole?
“I’m not an expert but the piece with the coal looks very cool.” He said, slipping back into his chair and stuffing his mouth with some more food. “Taunting almost. Is that the word? Makes you a little scared. I like it.”
“That’s mother for you. She would have hated most things in this room right now, starting from that painting and ending with this food which, by the way, it’s the most delicious thing I have eaten in years.” James furrowed his brows and seemed a little put out.
“You don’t like your mother?”
“I’m not usually one to insult the dead, but honestly she did more harm than good.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry, she can’t really manipulate us anymore, can she?” Sirius giggled but it was cut short by Regulus’ chair scratching against the floor as he got up, mumbling about needing air and slipping out the front door. He hadn’t even touched his food. “I shouldn’t talk about her when he’s already being like that.” He sighed.
“Is he alright?” Sirius eyed James, trying to gauge if he could really trust him to hold on to those delicate things they were made of. The only thing he could find on his face was concern. Some of it was directed at the both of them, as brothers in a clearly complicated family situation; most of it was directed at Regulus, though. Maybe he would be good, for both of them.
“She always got to him more than me. I always was more defiant; mind games didn’t work on me. He’s still working on it.”
“Should I…?” Sirius nodded.
“Take his coat. He can’t stand the cold.”
Regulus was pacing the pavement freezing to his bones when the door of the building opened and closed again. A couple seconds later, someone was carefully placing his coat on his shoulders. He wasn’t looking at him in the face, but James’ battered red sneakers were staring right at him.
“I should buy new ones at this point.”
“I like them.”
“You do?” Regulus nodded and finally looked up at his face. James was worrying, he could tell from the way his eyes kept quickly skimming all over his face. His hands were also still smoothing the coat on his shoulders: it shouldn’t’ve been as comforting as it was. “Are you alright?”
Regulus wasn’t sure. He had been rethinking their breakfast date for days at this point. About James talking about chances and people being more behind a prickly exterior. Then Sirius had to joke about Walburga. It was bound to happen since their trauma made up most of the jokes in Sirius’ repertoire. It always made him nervous, the way she could still get a reaction out of him, the way he could still hear her sometimes.
“I’m sorry I ignored you.”
“Reg-”
“No. It wasn’t fair to you. I just stopped showing up and didn’t give you a reason, and you just keep being nothing but nice. It’s just-”
“Hey.” James smiled and pushed a curl out of his face, tucking it behind his ear and sending shivers to the back of his neck. “You don’t have to tell me just because you feel like you owe it to me, because I’m being nice. I’d love to know what the problem is, but my kindness is free. I promise.” Regulus wanted to cry, just a little bit. Mainly because he couldn’t understand what someone like James would be seeing in someone like him. He had been nothing but rude.
Maybe he should listen to the universe. Maybe even Regulus deserved one of those chances. Maybe he could be brave for once.
“I really liked our date.” James beamed immediately.
“You did.” He nodded. “I also really liked it. Well, besides the raspberry number you pulled.”
“I’m just… scared.”
“Of what?”
“What if you don’t like me?” Those words hurt as they exited his mouth.
“But I do like you.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I know enough.” Regulus rolled his eyes and lightly pushed a finger against his chest.
“You’re delusional.”
“I know your favourite colour is green.”
“You’re being stupid-”
“I know that you are Mr. Lupin’s new very smart assistant. I know you were top of all your classes and that you got your bachelor's degree in English literature. I know you don’t like spinach because you always skip them in the dining hall, and that you always get bread but just take a bite of it and stuff the rest in your pocket.” Regulus could feel the way his cheeks were warming up. “This is starting to sound a little like those dramatic love declarations in rom coms.”
“Just a little.”
“I won’t stop though.”
“I’ll suffer through it.”
“I know that you are mean. Honestly, I like that about you, that you have a prickly tongue , like a cat; it’s funny most of the time. I also suspected your family was shitty before Sirius confirmed it a couple minutes ago. And I still like you. A lot.”
“Then you’re stupid.”
“You’ve said.” James smiled at him then, warm and welcoming and Regulus wanted nothing more than kiss him, as stereotypically romcom as that sounded. “The thing is: there are things I don’t like.”
“Oh?”
“Like you joking about deathly allergies and avoiding me without a valid reason. I still like you, though.”
“Really?”
“Really. Must be the fact that you have a fantastic arse.”
Walburga used to tell Regulus that to be liked by anyone he should bring something to the table. The “something” being whatever would benefit the person in front of him. It could be anything, from money to connections, knowledge or a pretty face. She used to tell him that if he wasn’t useful no one would waste time on someone like him. It was difficult to accept the idea that someone could want to be nice to him without expecting something from him. But there James was, telling him he liked him despite his best efforts to repel any attention, scared out of his mind his mother would be proven right. Regulus was giving him nothing, and yet James was giving him his best.
James’ hands had slid down, resting lazily at his elbows, and Regulus was about to be very brave. So he brought his own up to his cheeks and just got on his toes to press their lips together. The sound escaping James made it clear that he wasn’t expecting Regulus to just kiss him, which really served to make him want to kiss him more. James’ hands found their way to his hips, lightly pushing him closer and slowly relaxing in the kiss. Regulus was the first one to pull away.
“Would you take me on another date, then?”
“Fuck yes.”
Sirius felt a little awkward. As established, universities weren’t exactly his natural habitat, and if he had already felt out of place standing in the parking lot, it felt even weirder to walk the hallways. Also, at least three people had eyed him suspiciously as he walked the halls in a leather jacket and with a stupid fresh bouquet of flowers in hand. It hadn’t been planned exactly. Sirius missed Remus and he happened to pass a cute little flower shop on the way, and the lady had been so nice and had put a pretty wrapping around the flowers, and she smiled so much. So, he bought him flowers, and was now getting them to his study: since Regulus’ avoidance of the dining hall had disappeared the moment James Potter managed to thoroughly examine the inside of his mouth with his tongue, Remus was left alone eating lunch in his study, presumably.
Remembering where it exactly was had been a challenge, but he was nothing if not determinate and soon enough he found himself in front of the familiar wooden door. He knocked lightly and Remus’ voice came through muffled as he pushed the door open and pressed his back to it. Remus was curved on his desk, hunched over a stack of papers covered in messy writing. He followed the line of his shoulders, covered in a soft-looking brown jumper, until his eyes reached his face, finally noticing he was wearing glasses. Sirius had no idea about those, because if he had he would’ve never let him go around without them. Sirius wanted to sit in his lap and snog his face off.
Finally, Remus looked at him, smiling softly before opening his mouth slightly in surprise as he noted the flowers in his hands.
“I really fucking hope you’re not allergic. It’s supposed to be a romantic gesture, not an attempted murder.” He inched closer as the man pushed the chair away from the desk to make room for him. As soon as he got within arm’s reach, his palms ran up the back of his thighs squeezed in black jeans: they were warm, he could feel them through the fabric.
“What do I owe the pleasure?”
“I missed you.” Amber eyes melted at his words and curious hands travelled over his arse and hiked up his shirt to touch the milky skin of his sides. “Also, I kind of wanted to ask you out.”
“Ask me out, you say? Trying to seduce me?”
“You’re in my kitchen in pants most mornings that you are in yours at this point. I can’t try something I’ve already succeeded in.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss on Remus’ forehead, making it longer than necessary. “Do you like them? I wasn’t sure you told me your favourite flower so I let the nice lady bribe me to get the most expensive ones.”
“They’re perfect, even though they’re kind of in the way of you getting down here right now.” Sirius rolled his eyes, but carefully placed them in a corner of his desk where they wouldn’t get unintentionally squished. Then he proceeded to crawl in his lap, circling his neck with his arms. “You mentioned a date?”
“Yeah. There’s this gallery, James’ friend is having a little event and he invited me and Reg. I was thinking you could come?”
“I’ll be there.” And Sirius really couldn’t help from kissing him anymore. It still felt the same as the first time, igniting every single fibre in his body and blurring his mind, as if every thought besides Remus was just background noise. He snickered as the frame of his glasses smushed his cheek, prompting the other man to push them on top of his head.
“I didn’t know you wore glasses.”
“Just to avoid stressing my eyes when I read. It tends to happen when you get old.”
“You’re not that old.”
“We’ll see how you handle it once you reach my wise age.” Sirius hid his laughter against his neck, biting the skin lightly and peppering kisses along the strong line of his jaw. “I think you like them.”
“Of course, I fucking do. I think your glasses are to me what my sheer tops are to you.”
“I’ll get me some permanent ones then.”
Sirius had never seen himself in a serious relationship, as funny as it sounded. He just didn’t see himself settling down anytime soon, before Remus. He fantasized about making a name for himself and sipping drinks in dark clubs, maybe dances with strangers and steamy nights with people he would never see again: the only constant in his life, past, present or future, had always been Regulus. But there was something so warm and comforting about the man, that made him fantasize about huddling together under a blanket as they watched films on his sofa, or cooking with their arms pressed together as some old school rock played in the background. Relationships of any kind were never his family’s strong suit, to the point he had thought it might have been inscribed in his DNA. Turns out, it wasn’t that difficult to break family traditions. He was already a gay artist, after all.
Regulus was standing in the middle of an empty hall, all polished wood floors and high ceilings. It was too early for anyone to be around, but he wanted to have a look alone first, spend some time unbothered as he walked through bright rooms, before the sparkling wine and the chatter. The painting in front of him was his favourite so far: there was a woman in the centre, with auburn hair tied up on top of her head and her head lowered towards an open book open in her lap; everything around her was bright with the sun enveloping the nature she was immersed in, but her face was in the shadow, making her eyes undistinguishable and her expression confusing. Regulus had stared at her for a while, trying to decide if she was serene or haunted.
“It’s my mum.” Said a voice next to him, making him jump. He hadn’t heard her approaching, but there she was, staring at the picture in front of them. He recognised the similarities in the colour of her hair with that of the woman in the picture, but he wouldn’t have noticed if the artist hadn’t pointed it out. “I could never tell what she was thinking, if she liked the drawing I made her or if she hated it.”
“You could always tell what my mother was thinking. It was mostly mean things, and she wasn’t one who let you guess: she would straight up spit it in your face.”
“I sometimes wish my mother would just spit whatever it was at my face.”
“I wish mine would’ve spit less.” Lily turned around and smiled at him. “It’s my favourite so far.”
“You must be Regulus.” She said, stretching a hand towards him. Her skin was soft and bracelets dangled from her wrist as he shook it. “James wouldn’t shut up about you since the beginning of the academic year.”
“I hope he didn’t say anything stupid.”
“Not at all.” She huffed a laugh, clear and bright just like the painting of Mary hung at the café. “Do you want to get a drink with me as we wait for the show to start?”
James found him some time later, second glass of wine in hand as he giggled with Lily while she launched herself in a passionate retelling of her first meeting with the man. His arm had slipped around his waist like it was meant to be there from the start and pressed a kiss on his temple that almost made him spill his drink. He had later whispered how much he liked seeing him talk to his friends.
They waited for his brother and Remus to show up, hands tangled and already tipsy on something probably stronger than the wine in his glass. He briefly chastised his brother for his choice of clothing once again, but didn’t say anything about Remus wearing his glasses in an art gallery. They walked through the corridors as a small group, the five of them, and Regulus whispered his opinions directly in the shell of James’ ear, causing him to tighten his grip on his side every single time. When Peter Pettigrew showed up, together with Mary, James lived up to his promise and whisked Sirius away introducing them probably way more formally that was actually required. He watched them as they chatted quietly, eyed Lily as she gently pecked Mary’s lips in greeting and observed Remus reading the information next to every painting, while sipping his drink.
When they got out of the family and away from everything and anyone Regulus had ever known, he remembered feeling like he would be alone for the rest of his days. They were young and the only family he had ever known had been cold and empty, but they were the only people Regulus had ever felt close with. He now understood that maybe he had never truly felt close to anyone. Being close maybe wasn’t about living in close quarters and spending every single moment together.
Family was Alphard’s calls every Thursday and the lunches at the train station; it was Sirius never washing the dishes and splattering paint on his favourite jumpers. And just maybe, it was starting to be Remus walking in the kitchen in his pants and having coffee together on the island. Perhaps it was James bringing him lunch and the way he would pull Regulus to lay on his chest as he slept, because close was never close enough. It could be Mary’s café and endless art galleries.
“Reminiscing?”
“A little.”
“A penny for your feelings?”
“It’s ‘a penny for your thoughts’, you idiot.” Regulus rolled his eyes but James just wrapped his arms around him from behind and pushed the cold tip of his nose into the side of his neck, humming against his skin.
“Well, I’m feeling like you could come to mine later? Maybe? If you’re not too tired, that is.”
“You mean that Gideon isn’t in the dorm?”
“No, Fabian is visiting his parents so is out for the whole weekend.”
“Sounds like a good time.”
“You’ll have so much fun eating instant noodles on my bed and getting a shower in the luxurious shared bathroom down the hallway.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” He smiled turning around in his arms and straightening the glasses on his nose. He eyed his brother, now busy rambling to Remus with a big smile on his face. “I’ll come to yours, but less noodles and more world-famous microwaved mac and cheese.” He could feel the laugh bubbling up in James’ chest before lifting onto his tippy toes to kiss him softly on the lips.
I love you. The words were there, bouncing off the inside walls of his head. He wasn’t as scared of them as he thought; they were just a logical conclusion, the natural order of things. They laid on the tip of his tongue, and maybe a little on James’ as well, with the way they were kissing. But it was too soon. He would marinate them a little bit longer, maybe test their ring as he laid alone in his bed or in his sleep. In the meantime, he would rest them behind his eyes.
There was a chance that he would feel them on his skin when Regulus looked at him or perhaps, if he looked close enough, James would recognize them unassisted.