Chapter 15
“You look lovely tonight, my star,” Remus’s voice rang clearly through the relatively foggy air from where he was seated across from Sirius, long limbs crossed leisurely on the blanket that Sirius had laid out for them in Remus’s backyard underneath the starry night sky. It was rather silly, really, the trouble Sirius had gone to, the way he had insisted that the two of them have a proper date, with a meal Remus didn’t have to cook himself, even sillier how Remus had indulged it. Answered,
‘Whatever you’d like darling’ with a breezy lilt to his voice the morning after he’d let Sirius once again sleep in his bed. Agreed to what was both a plea and a demand that left Sirius’s lips, one that wasn’t ‘take me out on a date, Moons’ but ‘let me take you out on a date, Moons’, a bit preposterous after they had all but slept together the night before. After Remus had stuck his warm, calloused, and incredibly skilled fingers up Sirius’s ass and made him come better than he had in years. Let Sirius not just have his glorious cock in his mouth but his come too, remnants of the previous night eminent in the slight sting around Sirius’s hole. The tender soreness that Remus had worked away for the most part with his fingers in the bath but that lingered enough to remind Sirius how much he wanted to say thank you. To show not just Moony, but Remus just how exceedingly grateful he was for it.
And really Remus had been spoiling him so much lately—being so good to Sirius like he always had been—that Sirius wanted to get a chance to spoil him back. Even if it was just a little bit, only as much as Remus would allow him to, which this close to the fulls wasn’t much. Still, Remus had allowed Sirius to set up a picnic for them in the yard, to rummage through Remus’s attic for things that would make it more romantic—finding some dusty twinkle lights that Remus wouldn’t let him put up by himself, a set of fancy plates that looked like they’d never been used, and some half burnt candles that Sirius placed around the outskirts of the blanket he had laid down. And with enough pouting and whining, genuinely getting down on his knees and batting his lashes with a ‘please Moons’ Remus had let Sirius prepare the whole thing himself, left him all alone in the kitchen to make some kind of charcuterie board, finger sandwiches, and various other picnic foods, because if Sirius was going to do this he would go all out. Remus had even agreed not to go in the backyard while Sirius set up and looked the other way when Sirius came down the stairs all dolled up for their date.
Dressed in a backless deep red cocktail dress with a cut out detail around the stomach area, and his freshly blown out hair pulled into two deliberately messy braids, Sirius had practically been fishing for compliments wearing what he had. Dressed slutty because he knew Remus liked it when he did, worn red because Remus had mentioned years ago how well the color suited him, picked a dress that would have bare skin around his waist so that if Remus wanted to place his hand there Sirius could better feel the heat on his skin, the callouses on Remus’s nonetheless soft fingers.
Sirius found himself beaming simply at the sound of his Moony’s voice, warm, saccharine, and rich, praising him in his thick Welsh accent that always got more distinct when Remus was relaxed. Butterflies circled recklessly in Sirius’s stomach as he leaned forward towards Remus and his scratchy-sweet voice.
“Your star?” Sirius questioned breathily, not even to tease, but finding himself so utterly enraptured with how easily Remus had let those words slip out. Wanted to hear them again if he could, and nearly gasped as Remus pulled him closer with one hand hooking effortlessly around his waist, warm and confident over Sirius’s vast expanse of bare skin, forefinger hooking underneath the thin piece of fabric that did cover him and toying with it. And fuck, Sirius loved it when Remus manhandled him. Loved how freely he did it around the moons, how it became an expected part of conversations, that if he was talking to Sirius he had to be touching him too, pulling him ever more closely.
“So many of them in the sky tonight,” Remus looked upwards only briefly before his eyes were fixed back on Sirius, “but I have one that belongs just to me.”
“Always yours, Moons,” the words left Sirius’s lips before he could even process them, redundant as they came out but Sirius still found himself glad he said them, didn't want there to be any doubt that he was Remus’s and Remus’s alone. And it had been so long since he had said them properly, not whispered in between the sheets through a lustful cry of euphoria, but as a lucid promise of devotion. One he hoped Remus understood for what it was, practically an ‘I love you’ in disguise because Sirius wasn’t sure if he should say it so plainly yet.
And Remus seemed to understand it by the way he kissed Sirius fondly on the lips, almost chaste before he pulled away with a pleased and somewhat possessive smile spread across his face. Murmured,
“Thank you for that, darling,” and Sirius was pretty sure that he saw something deeper in Remus’s eyes when he said it, something past appreciation and perhaps lust. Some kind of similar devotion, although one that went without equal verbalization.
“Thank you, Moons,” Sirius shook his head disputingly, so grateful for the man across from him, for the second chance, and so desperate to convey it. “For letting me be yours,” he clarified breathlessly when Remus furrowed his brows at him. “Even now, even after everything. I- all I ever wanted was to be yours and you don’t just let me be, you take such good care of me too. Fuck, Moons, I don’t know what I did to deserve it but-” Sirius was cut off by the firm connection of Remus’s lips to his, and Sirius thought it was probably for the best because he had been rambling anyway, admitting too much yet again when all he wanted was to say those three little words he knew he shouldn’t say. ‘Love you, Moons’, his constant unvoiced companion these past few days, his most familiar and favorite prayer that had to be replaced with other things instead. With ‘thank you’ and ‘I’m yours’ and anything else that Sirius could think of to stop himself from declaring his love for his Moony far before Remus was ready to accept it.
Until all Sirius could think of was Remus’s mouth on his, his Moony’s tongue slipping between his lips while one hand squeezed Sirius’s ass underneath his dress, and Sirius only had a thong on underneath, the same scarred hand hoisting Sirius towards him, pulled him half on top of Remus and made Sirius moan at the motion. At the way Remus only kissed him more deeply as Sirius slung one leg over his Moony’s lap, whining at the friction between Remus’s coarse woolen trousers and his too thin panties, his dick almost painfully hard underneath them.
“So sweet for me, love,” Remus’s voice was husky and deep when he pulled away, much more undeniably Moony as he took Sirius’s breath away with yet another heated kiss. “But you can’t see that same sweetness in yourself. Can’t see how lucky I am to have you, darling.” Moony growled out before yet another kiss, and Sirius pulled away only to ask,
“Re?” To see how much of Remus was present in him, to prove that Moony was just as good to him as Remus was if he could.
“The prettiest star, cariad,” Moony released Sirius’s lips in favor of biting and sucking up along Sirius’s neck, laving over his jugular before pressing his words animalistically into Sirius’s skin, “and yet you do not see how brightly you shine.”
“I- I made snacks,” Sirius half-gasped half-whined incredibly reluctantly when Remus bit down particularly hard on the most sensitive part of his neck, fingers splayed across the interior of his thigh and creeping upwards. As much as Sirius wanted to just say screw it and let Moony fuck him right there, he wanted to give back to Remus more, and knew he’d be upset with himself if he let all the effort he’d put into their date go to waste just because he wanted Remus’s dick in him. But he really wanted Remus’s dick in him.
Luckily Remus had more restraint, even this close to the moon, than Sirius did and he pulled away, leaving Sirius hard, wet, and wanting, but satiated somewhat as Moony kept his hands on him, seated him more fully in his lap and hummed,
“You did, didn’t you baby?” Sirius nodded rather dumbly, because he was still so caught up in the kiss, in Remus, and he reached towards the picnic basket because he knew his words would fail him if he tried to talk.
Sirius had barely gotten the basket open, distracting himself with the pretense of food, when Moony pressed a kiss to the corner of his jaw and deeply rumbled,
“You’d look so pretty with my mark here.” And Sirius knew exactly what he meant by that, something his uncle Alphard had told him about when he was staying with him in America, a common practice among werewolves that Alphard himself, as well as his partner (who was a werewolf), were well acquainted with. If Remus were to bite Sirius, mark him there, he could make him his mate, and Sirius knew that he wouldn’t, that Remus himself would never do so without Sirius’s explicit permission, that Remus had even turned him down when Sirius had straight up begged him to in the past. That it was only a fantasy that Moony took time in indulging, but even then he would never bite Sirius hard enough to bleed, to make him properly his.
Sirius remembered the long days he had spent in Alphard’s library scanning through books on supernatural beasts and werewolf bonding in hopes that one day he might get Remus to actually consider it. He remembered one book in particular that had detailed a dark and well concealed history of his so-called family: The Hidden Wolves of House Black.
Apparently there was a centuries old curse, either a saving grace or a punishment of sorts for the Black family’s long and dangerous history of breeding vampires and crystal clad killers, depending on who you asked. One that followed the eldest son of each generation. One the Blacks had found a particularly cruel way of avoiding the fallout of, but few in the lineage actually came to accept and find happiness in, Alphard being one of them.
The House of Black, obsessively concerned with its supposedly pristine perception, with status and more than anything purity, especially blood purity had more than one secret dark side. One that brought the Blacks far more shame than being cold hearted killers ever could. The eldest son of each generation was ‘cursed’ with a werewolf lover. A soulmate that would either be their lifeline or their downfall depending on how they chose to deal with them. A supernatural other half that would have the power to kill them if they chose violence. Alphard theorized that perhaps it had been a measure to keep the Black’s power in check.
Sirius’s father, Orion, had been a target of the curse, and had refused to accept it. His mate had been a man that he spoke very little of and almost lost his life to. Sirius had met him a few times, a man with intelligent eyes and bright blonde hair named Alexander. He had thought that Alexander was a business partner, because that was what his father had always said he was. He had a crude sense of humor and brought out a kindness in Orion that Sirius hadn’t known existed. Sirius’s mother had despised him, cursed him to his face every time he was over, and Orion, who otherwise hardly ever stood up to Walburga cursed her right back.
Sirius remembered one time when his father had defended his ‘business partner’ furiously, warning Walburga to watch her tongue or he would cut it out, and Alexander had put his hand on Orion’s arm in a way that didn’t seem very platonic, whispering something in his ear as he did. That had been when Sirius realized that he and his father might not just be ‘business partners’. But then one day Alexander had stopped coming over and Orion snapped every time he was mentioned, coming home mysteriously bloody and bruised and suffering from those injuries for the rest of his life.
Sirius had made the mistake of asking about him about Alexander one day and Orion had yanked him by the collar into the basement before throwing him on the ground and hissing,
“He’s dead, boy.” With a complete absence of life in his eyes. Like all the light had left him when Alexander did. Snarled,“You will not ask about him again.” Then left Sirius on the cold hard floor after issuing him a swift kick to the ribs.
Only years later did he find out that Orion had killed him, had murdered his mate then remained crippled for the rest of his life because of it. Orion’s father before him had been cursed as well, a woman named Eleonora who he had killed far more easily. Suffered only a bad knee and a hatred of half-bloods for his sin.
That tended to be how the curse went, generation after generation of Blacks killing their lovers so they didn’t have to suffer the indecency of being associated with them, so they could keep the bloodline pure, all with varying degrees of success. But some gladly accepted their fate, embraced the love they found in it, instead of letting that love ruin them, like Orion had. With his last breath calling out for Alexander before dying from the wounds his ‘business partner’ had inflicted upon him. And as much as Sirius despised Orion, after learning the full truth about his death he actually found himself pitying his father. Although he pitied Alexander far more.
That had been why Sirius had run in the first place, after finding out about the curse, after being turned into a vampire like the rest of the Blacks and realizing that he could potentially be Remus’s doom. That he was just as bad as the rest of his family…
Sirius didn’t know how he would be able to live with himself if he ever harmed his Moony any more than he already had. He didn’t know what he’d do if his vampire instincts took over and hurt Remus before he could stop himself.
But after spending three years learning how to control his nature and researching at his uncle Alphard’s, taking refuge in America—an entire ocean between him and the possibility of accidentally hurting the person he loved most in the world—Sirius had learned that there was a way to escape the curse. Then in a frenzy to return home to Remus, in the middle of a storm that had given him a panic attack in the woods on the way there, on the night of their anniversary, Sirius had shown up soaking wet and selfish at Remus’s front door.
And been let in. Been sheltered from the storm in his Moony’s warm arms both literally and metaphorically ever since.
Now Sirius wanted nothing more than for Remus to mark him, to make Sirius beholden to him permanently as if he wasn’t already. He wanted to be as close to Remus as he possibly could in every aspect and facet of life. And Moony had talked about it plenty of times before too, mostly in moments of passion or possession, darkened eyes and gravelly groans as he told Sirius how he desired to make him his. Pulled back by Remus, but only just.
“Moons,” Sirius spoke in an undertone, at a complete loss for words when Moony said things like that, knots twisted in his stomach and he felt a little bit untethered, stuck between wanting Remus to act on his words— to give him that mark Remus thought he’d look so pretty with— and knowing that that wouldn’t and couldn’t be the case. Torn because he wanted Remus’s hands on him in every form, but not if that wasn’t what Remus would want if he was more in control of himself. Sirius felt iffy about going any further, even though he had thought he’d wanted to, and he couldn’t really tell why. Felt hazy from the kisses and unfortunately empty promises, the wetness and pressure near his groin only worsening.
Unsure, Sirius placed a hand on Remus’s chest right over his heart and let the beating of it soothe him. Remus placed his own hand right overtop of it, pressed a kiss into his forehead and stretched the arm that wasn’t holding Sirius to bring the basket of food closer to them. Like Remus could read his mind—(Remus always had the uncanny ability to be able to pick up on Sirius’s feelings near immediately)— he pulled some out, fruits, nuts, and bits of cheese and started feeding them to Sirius, cooling down the lust between them. Though he still left his hand on the bare skin of Sirius’s lower back and made little to no effort to move it.
“Open up, love,” Moony got Sirius to eat several bites of the food before Sirius came out of his daze enough to realize what was happening. That Sirius was supposed to be spoiling Remus, not the other way around. He tried to shift himself off of Remus’s lap, not because he wanted to, but because he couldn’t keep letting himself be coddled without giving Remus anything back in return, but Moony nearly growled at him and firmly put him back in place.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Remus’s hands gripped him securely enough that he made it clear that Sirius was not going anywhere and Sirius nearly gasped at the strength of it. Pulled back just enough not to hurt him, but effortlessly firm in a way that made Sirius’s previously dormant butterflies stir back up again. But he couldn’t act on any of his urges, just like he clearly couldn’t put a date together without failing in the entire purpose of it. Too distracted by his selfish and greedy desires to spoil Remus like he had set out to do.
“This is your date, Moons. The whole point was that I wanted to do something special for you,” Sirius defeatedly explained. His effort to show his appreciation for his Moony and everything he had done for him had turned into Remus doing even more for him. Sirius taking more from Remus undeservedly. He tried once again to wiggle off Moony’s lap but was stopped by strong hands and a disapproving glare. A gruff warning of,
“Be good.” That made Sirius freeze up and stay right there, much more comfortable on Remus’s lap anyway. Still, he felt badly, disappointed in himself for another failed attempt to take care of Remus instead of always being the one taken care of.
“I’m sorry, I-” Sirius tried to apologize but Remus put his hand up and Sirius shut his mouth.
“You have nothing to apologize for. I don’t want to hear it, love. You spent all afternoon setting this up, got all dolled up in your slutty little dress for me, and you’re worried about this not being special? Darling, you’re doing something special for me every time you sit your pretty arse on my lap. Let alone go to all the effort you have to make this a nice night for us.” Remus tilted Sirius’s chin up so he was looking him in the eyes as he spoke and Sirius noticed that Remus’s eyes were clearer now, less yellowing and it was clear that Moony was not as fully in control, on the back burner for as long as Remus wanted him to be.
Remus eased his grip when he saw that Sirius wasn’t going anywhere and let Sirius relax a bit into him, resting more fully on his chest.
“Can you understand that, Sirius?” Remus spoke when Sirius didn’t respond, trying to take it all in, convincing himself that what Remus was saying was the truth. Shaking himself out of it Sirius blinked a few times and nodded.
“Yeah- yeah, Re, I can.” Sirius affirmed and Remus rewarded him with a kiss, chaster than the last ones had been and lingering on his lips even after Remus pulled away.
“Good,” Remus brushed a thumb across Sirius’s cheek, shooing away a stray piece of hair, and Sirius’s heart took a little bit of a dive when it wasn’t extended to Sirius’s favorite phrase to hear from his Moony: ‘good boy’. Still praise was praise, even if shortened and Sirius quickly lit back up inside at pleasing Remus, hummed contentedly when Remus kissed the side of his neck and rumbled,
“What do you say we see what you spent so much time in the kitchen making? As nice as you taste, I’m starting to get hungry for something else too.”
. . .
Sixth Year, Hogwarts:
“Moons, will you come watch my quidditch practice?” Sirius inquired to his best friend that he maybe had a humongous crush on while he fumbled through tying his hair up. He had been letting it get long now that he didn’t have his mother snarking at him about cutting it and it had gotten long enough to fall a few inches past his shoulders, which made Sirius gleefully happy, but also made it harder to deal with and tie into a bun, as Sirius was trying to do then.
Remus glanced up from his papers from the desk behind him, as Sirius could see in the mirror he was standing in front of, and he could also see Remus look him up and down, potentially checking him out, before he shook his head and answered,
“I have homework, Sirius.” Sirius practically shivered from the way Remus’s eyes raked over him, lingering slightly on where his waist and ass were accentuated by his pair of (purposefully hiked up) black booty shorts and similar crop top. Still, Sirius was disappointed in his Moony’s answer and decided that Remus just needed a little more convincing.
“You can bring your homework with you,” Sirius countered as he wasn’t able to get his hair up how he wanted and settled for a half up half down situation. “Please, Moony, you never come to practice.” Sirius didn’t mind begging a bit.
“I go to the games,” Remus brushed him off, and Sirius full on pouted, because he really really wanted Remus to come see him practice today. He had learned a few new moves and gotten noticeably better recently and he’d even done his makeup all nicely for the occasion in hopes that Remus would be there to watch. Peter had made the point that he’d just sweat it right off, but Sirius wasn’t one for practicality and Peter also didn’t know about Sirius’s 24 hour setting spray.
“Yeah but you don’t pay attention at the games,” Sirius argued with the slightest hint of a whine, grabbing his quidditch garb that he refused to change into until absolutely necessary because it was a little too bulky to be flattering, too boxy for anyone but James to look good in. Remus would probably look good in it too, Sirius thought fleetingly. Though Remus looked good in everything from the school’s laxly enforced uniform to those worn out plaid pajama pants he wore in the mornings that always slipped down around his hips and revealed slightly too much of his v-line. But Remus wasn’t on the quidditch team, Sirius surmised, so the whole point was moot.
“I pay attention to you,” Remus stated neutrally as he put his pen down and indulged Sirius in the conversation. But what did Remus mean by‘he paid attention to Sirius’? He’d said it so nonchalantly, so singularly, like Sirius was the only part of the game Remus bothered paying any attention to. Which might make sense because Remus didn’t find quidditch all that interesting. That was likely the reasoning behind it.
“Please Moons, come to practice?” Sirius pleaded as soon as he realized that he didn’t really have any other arguments.
“I’m not on the team, love. And I told you I have homework,” Remus insisted and Sirius’s heart dropped when he realized that he had gone to all that effort for nothing. He didn’t care if James or anyone else on the team thought his makeup looked nice, he had done it for his Moony. And he already knew that Marlene and James were impressed with the new tricks he had learned, but he wanted Remus to be too, and he was nothing short of deeply disappointed when Remus sighed and put his papers in his tote bag, looking up at Sirius pointedly.
“Fine,” Remus reluctantly gave in. “Only cuz I can tell you’re about to throw the fit of your life if I don’t.” Sirius failed to hold in a squeal and giddily threw his arms around Remus’s lanky frame, his friend steadying him with a large hand at his waist when Sirius threw himself against him with a bit too much enthusiasm. A hand that moved down to squeeze Sirius’s ass just once then give it a gentle but firm tap before he pulled away, Sirius barely able to get out,
“Thank you, Thank you, Re,” before all he could think about was his best friend’s hand on his ass. His Moony’s hand had just been on his ass. Squeezing and patting it like he did it all the time. Right overtop where there was an excess of revealed skin…
Sirius found himself at quite a loss for words.
“Well, might as well make our way down to the pitch,” Remus slung his tote bag over his shoulder and nodded towards the door as if the entire hand-on-ass incident that had stunned Sirius into silence was completely normal to have happened and it took Sirius a moment to return to reality.
“I- um- yeah,” Sirius stammered before regaining control of himself to some level. But the entire time he and Remus made their way down the long winding staircases and out to the pitch—with Remus placing his hand casually on the small of Sirius’s back, all Sirius could think about was it sliding down even lower.
. . .
After practice—where Sirius had shown off all his new tricks in front of Remus whenever he looked up from his assignments—and a long day of school, Sirius pestered James all the way back to the dorm about what he thought Remus thought of Sirius at practice.
“I dunno, mate, Rem isn’t all that interested in quidditch,” James shrugged rather unhelpfully, leading Sirius to roll his eyes heavily because that wasn’t what he had been asking.
“But was he interested in me?” Sirius emphasized, and James made an ‘o’ shape with his mouth like he had only just caught onto that bit.
“He likes blokes if that’s what you’re asking,” James commented offhandedly, catching sight of Lily Evans and sending her a completely lovestruck smile and a cheerful, “dazzling as always Evans,” that earned him no more than an eye roll and a curt,
“James.” Before Lily breezed right by the both of them without sparing them a second look. Sirius nodded in her direction just to be polite but by that time she was already well past them so he quickly returned to his conversation.
“That’s not what I was asking,” Sirius snapped his fingers at James, who was still gazing dumbly at Lily as she walked away. “Prongs, was he impressed? Remus.”
“She called me by my first name,” James remarked in awe, completely unaware of the fact that he and Sirius had been in the middle of a conversation.
“Yeah…” Sirius chose not to mention that she had also all but ignored him and not even slowed her stride to talk to James, only giving him a one word response when she did.
“She never calls me by my first name,” James noted with equal amazement.
“Hm, maybe she will attend the wedding after all,” Sirius responded thoughtfully, referring to the vision board he and James had made for their theoretical future wedding. It was just for fun—Effie’s homemade biryani and an assortment of calla lilies (because regular lilies would be too on the nose)—, and neither of them actually expected it to come to fruition, but they had planned every last detail nonetheless, and agreed that whichever one of them got married first could use it. So it was kind of Sirius’s dream wedding fantasy board too, for if he and Remus ever got married. Not that he thought it likely, they weren’t even dating. Had only kissed a handful of times and Sirius would have to change the flower to be more fitting, but then suddenly he was thinking about marrying Remus and he was just as bad as James.
“If not, I’ll have to marry you instead. That is if Remus hasn’t gotten there first.” James hooked his arm around Sirius’s shoulder with a playful bump. “Speaking of- what were you saying about him?”
All in all, James had been moderately helpful, pointing out that Remus wouldn’t have even come to practice if he wasn’t at least a little bit interested, and that it said a lot that he was watching Sirius during the games instead of the game itself. Sirius may not have gotten a straightforward answer, but he figured he would rather hear that answer from Remus anyway, so he didn’t mind too much.
When they returned to the room James dropped his bag with a thud on the floor then smoothly made his way back out, as he had agreed to give Sirius and Remus some alone time. Peter was stuck at tutoring, so once the door closed it was just the two of them, Sirius eager to know what his Moony had thought of him that morning and Remus playing muggle chess with himself on his bed. Turning the board to make his move then turning it again to make another.
Taking the empty space beside Remus as an invitation, Sirius jumped up to sit next to Remus on the bed, breezily asking,
“Who’s winning?” To which Remus wrapped an arm around Sirius’s waist to pull him closer. Sirius wondered if the movement had been entirely platonic or not.
“Black,” Remus looked up quickly from his chess game and smiled warmly at Sirius. “Your hair looks nice today, darling,” Sirius couldn’t help but blush furiously at the compliment, the casualness of it. Just like the casualness of Remus’s arm around him. How both combined absolutely lit him up inside and made him realize that Remus was probably his favorite person in the world.
“My butt too, you should squeeze it again.” Sirius urged when he realized just how close Remus’s hand was to the area he had put it earlier.
“Mm, that too then. Your butt and your hair look great. Pleased, love?” Remus amended with a light squeeze to Sirius’s ass as he pulled him to fit nicely into his side. Sirius took the liberty of wrapping his arms around Remus’s torso before deciding to ask him upfront about the quidditch thing.
“What’d you think of my skills at practice?” Sirius pressed up against his Moony, intent on answers but happy enough with the closeness even if he didn’t get them.
“Shouldn’t you be asking James that?” Remus captured a knight and tapped his fingers contemplatively on the side of the board. “Or your coach?” Sirius leaned forward to capture a castle on the other side and shook his head no.
“Already asked them. Want to know what you think.”
“Good move,” Remus commented, referring to the one Sirius had made on the chessboard, “but you’ve opened yourself up to a counterattack-” Remus captured one of the chess pieces, “-here. As for the pitch, you look much more comfortable on a broom than you used to. You’ve gotten better, Sirius, grown into the sport like you’ve grown into yourself.” He planted a quick kiss on Sirius’s temple before saying, “your move, love.” Suggesting Sirius now play as white in the game Remus had previously been playing against himself.
Sirius was absolutely glowing inside from both the kiss and Remus’s incredibly thoughtful answer. Remus didn’t care much for quidditch, but he cared about Sirius, so he had simply addressed that, him, instead of the balls and brooms that Remus had no interest in. And had clearly thought about his answer beforehand, paid attention to Sirius enough to give one, and hadn’t just been doing his homework the entire time.
Touched, and somewhat taken aback, Sirius released a,
“Moons…” breathily before deciding to move a pawn forward one square. Remus had the opportunity to capture it with one of his pieces but chose not to, opting to move one of his pawns forward as well.
“I’m glad I could see it, how far you’ve come for myself. Careful with your next move Pads, I have the opportunity to check you.”
Sirius tilted his head up, practically begging for a kiss, and was lucky enough to get one, a short thing that started with a chuckle on Remus’s part before he pulled away and Sirius remembered how to breathe again properly.
“You know, I think warning your opponent before you check them isn’t what you’re supposed to do if you want to win,” Sirius teased lightly. Remus always went easy on him and helped him throughout the game when they played chess, because Sirius wasn’t very good at it and really only played because Remus liked it. He personally thought the game was rigged against him because he almost always lost.
“Mm, I have to give you a chance though, don’t I? Let you at least get a shot at winning,” Remus hummed against him and Sirius examined the board carefully before managing to block Remus’s potential check, getting an encouraging squeeze from Remus when he did so.
They played chess until dinner and Remus let Sirius win for more than half the games, insisting that Sirius had just gotten better on his own and it wasn’t at all due to Remus helping him along and purposely sacrificing his own pieces. He beat Sirius enough for it to seem like a realistic improvement and if Sirius didn’t know him better—and know how disastrous he was at the game—he would’ve fallen for it.
Dinner passed as did the several hours before bed and Sirius waited until both James and Peter were fast asleep before crawling in between the curtains of Remus’s bed and into his Moony’s arms. It was a routine they had most nights, Remus waiting to go to bed until Sirius was comfortably in with him, pressed into his chest and admittedly drooling on it, because Sirius had been told by Remus that he drooled in his sleep.
Remus had called it cute, saying he was glad that Sirius was so relaxed with him, but Sirius was embarrassed by it anyway. It felt like bad manners to be invited into someone’s bed only to drool all over them. All over Remus’s usually bare chest. But his Moony had always been a little too good to him, letting Sirius win in a game he was terrible at, allowing himself to be dragged to practice for a sport Remus didn’t like or play, doing nothing to prevent Sirius from drooling on him in his sleep, and routinely opening the blankets up to Sirius as he nudged his way up the bed and into his Moony’s arms with the most transparent excuse of,
“Couldn’t sleep,” that Remus indulged with the equally see through agreement of,
“Me neither.”
. . .
Present Day:
After their date Sirius had insisted that Remus stay put and wait for him so he could run upstairs and get changed into his second outfit. He couldn’t decide between the red dress and a matching white skirt and corset set that had crystals dripping all over it and a pair of matching opera gloves so he had opted for both of them. One for the date and one just to make Remus get all handsy with him afterwards. Paired with a reliable pair of fuck-me heels, Sirius was sure that it would elicit the reaction that he wanted.
He pulled the skirt up a couple inches higher than it naturally fell after examining himself in the mirror and switched out his earrings to match his new outfit before skipping downstairs to show Remus. Remus, whose jaw dropped the moment Sirius walked into the room and promptly plopped himself down on Remus’s lap only after giving Remus a twirl so he could see the whole ensemble. Calloused hands coming to rest just underneath the skirt’s hem at the very tops of Sirius’s thighs as Remus released a groan.
“Baby, that outfit is fucking unfair.” Moony rumbled and Sirius smiled brightly but wanted to hear something more than that. Wanted Remus’s hands to climb a little bit higher.
“You think I look pretty?” Sirius spoke softly with an innocence so practiced it could hardly be feigned. Genuine too because all he wanted was for Remus to say it.
“Always,” Remus’s voice was deep, assertive, and gravely when he answered, hands finally gripping up under the skirt at Sirius’s ass. “But right now I think you look like a pretty little slut.”