Cough Drop Coloured Tongue
Mother-Mary
How was Halloween ;)
Remus
Eventful. Not in the way you think. Kids are exhausting.
Mother-Mary
Hmmmmm
Remus stared at his phone. He knew Mary meant well, but after his heart to heart with Sirius the previous evening he felt irrational irritation at her assumptions. Shaking it off, he finished tidying up his kitchen in preparation for his shift. It was a Saturday, and those were his least favourite to work. They were always busy, and the university men’s hockey team had started a pint club there on saturdays, and they were rude, entitled and demanding customers who acted like the bar staff were their own personal servants. Wanky fuckers. At least Peter and Dorcas were on with him. Dorcas had just started working behind the bar, and she was a refreshing presence. She was soft and kind to Mary’s brash and energetic, and as much as Remus really liked Mary, he found Dorcas easier, and after last night, lord knows Remus needed easy.
Remus had stayed on Sirius' sofa for another few hours, the two of them gently discussing the daily realities of their grief. Sirius had stayed tucked against Remus’ side the whole evening, until he started yawning, and Remus had taken his leave. The silence of his house on his return had felt oppressive, and Remus had spent a fitful night drifting in and out of sleep. Mentally, he felt better for knowing he wasn’t isolated in his grief, but the emotional toll of talking about Gran for the first time had reopened that gaping emptiness in his soul where she should have been standing.
The shift passed quickly. Remus ducked down to the basement to ‘check the kegs’ whenever a hockey boy approached the bar, and otherwise generally avoided customers as much as he could, doing more of the cleaning and tidying and sorting and stock work. Peter had cornered him in the basement at one point, and had given him a quick hug and a pat on the arm. “We all have bad days. And we’re all here for you.” he had said, and Remus hadn't even been able to respond, he had been so choked up. Peter hadn’t seemed to mind, though, just smiling at him before jogging back up the stairs again.
*
“Just water, please.” Sirius said quietly as he slid onto a bar stool the wednesday after Halloween. Remus had been waiting by the bar from the minute he saw Sirius through the window. He looked desolate. His hair was messy, his clothes wrinkled. He seemed deflated somehow. Like a week-old balloon.
“Alright, Sirius?” Remus asked, concern bleeding into his greeting.
“Yeah, fine.” Sirius responded, running his hands through his hair, making it look even messier. Remus just raised an eyebrow. “It just… gets on top of me, sometimes. Being a single dad at twenty five to a kid full of trauma.”
“You’re allowed to take breaks, Sirius. I’d happily take the wain for a few hours some afternoons if you want. I’m a dab hand at tomato pasta.” Sirius looked up and gave Remus a tired, but genuine smile.
“Thanks, Remus. that's very kind of you." Even as he said it, Remus knew Sirius would never ask that of him. He shook his head and nabbed a packet of crisps, dropping it on the counter in front of Sirius with a brusque “on the house.” before he went to serve other customers who were leaning over the bar. Sirius stayed later than usual, but the pub was strangely busy, so Remus stared out of the corner of his eye as he served customers. Sirius was still there for last call, just sitting at the bar, fiddling on his phone.
“When do you get off?” he asked as Remus passed him after turning the sign on the door to ‘close’.
“As soon as we’ve closed really. Shouldn’t take longer than an hour.”
Sirius bit his lip. “Can I wait and walk you home? It's half term, and Harry’s at a sleepover. I could do with some company.” Sirius’ eyes were magnetic, and he was looking up at Remus through his lashes again, and it was like he knew how attractive he looked, even as dishevelled as he was.
“Aye, okay. I’ll be as fast as can be.” Remus nodded, before heading off to speed-clean the bar.
“Remus, I can do this, you can go.” Pete said after half an hour. “Pete,” Remus started.
“No, honestly. All that's left is the till and cleaning the loo. I can do that alone. You’ve done all the heavy lifting already, and to be honest, Sirius looks like he needs going home, yeah? I’m sure there’ll be a night I’ll shoot off and you can repay the favour- not that I expect you to.”
Surprising even himself, Remus tugged Peter into his chest, wrapping his long, strong arms around the shorter blond boy, and squeezing hard.
“You are a fucking angel, Peter Pettigrew. Did you know that? An angel.” Peter blushed and stammered a bit before shooing Remus over to where Sirius was still sitting at the bar.
“Sirius? Ready to head out?” Sirius’ head flew up, and he nodded, hopping off the stool and heading to the door.
“My house is a mess, so want to show me around yours? It can be like mtv cribs,” Sirius affected a deep voice and put on a terrible Scottish accent, “and here, Sirius, is where I roll the seventy cigarettes I smoke a day. What’s that my dashing, handsome neighbour? You want to see my bedroom? Well, if you insist.” Remus knew Sirius was trying to be funny, but he didn’t laugh. He thought of his sad, empty house full of ghosts and memories. He was the only person to step foot in that house for the last forty years. His heart rate instinctively increased at the idea of inviting someone else into his home- his sanctuary, as lonely as it was, but… Peter was right, Sirius looked like he needed looking after, and the kitchen was clean enough for company.
“Aye, okay.” Remus nodded. “It's not much.” he said as he led Sirius down the dark corridor to the kitchen. It was clean, with only the saucepan and plate he had used for breakfast on the drying rack. “I’ve not got much in to offer you. Chocolate? Lager? Stella?” he asked, opening the fridge and taking out a heineken for himself.
“I fucking hate beer,” Sirius sighed. “Stella, please.”
“Aye, coming right up.”
*
Between the two of them, over the course of about three hours, they drank almost all of Remus’ stash, which was a lot of beer. At some point they had moved to the sitting room. Sober, Remus likely wouldn’t have let Sirius see it, but seven pints in he just wanted to sit on a sofa. Sirius collapsed next to him, slender pale fingers clutching the neck of his sixth bottle of stella. He was shorter and skinnier than Remus, and clearly a lightweight. Remus was not a lightweight by any means, but he was drinking faster than Sirius. The room was hazy, and he knew if he tried to stand up, he’d fall back down again. He would just sleep on the sofa. Sirius was beautiful in the light of the streetlamps that was streaming in through the windows. His sharp edges softened, and he looked young and heartbreaking.
Remus wasn’t used to boys having such an effect on him. After Fenrir, his heart had encased itself in scar tissue that had seemed impenetrable. No matter who Remus slept with, no one had stuck. No one had made it through the walls he had built, however cliche it sounded. But Sirius… Remus wanted, beyond the flesh. Beyond lust, and sin, and skin. Remus wanted to touch him gently. Wanted to kiss him gently. It wasn’t a feeling he was used to. It wasn’t a feeling he liked.
The alcohol made it all-consuming, though. Sirius was so close, and he smelt so good, warm and woody and clean. In the end though, for all his thinking, it was Sirius who made the first move. He leaned in, eyes glassy and unfocused, and traced a soft, gentle finger across Remus’ bottom lip, before following it with his own mouth. He tasted of beer and cadburys and Remus fucking loved it. The kiss was hungry, messy and sloppy and drunken. Remus heaved Sirius into his lap and Sirius came willingly, whimpering in a way that set Remus’ skin on fire. It had been so long since he’d touched someone.
In the weeks before her death, Gran hadn’t been well, and Remus had spent all his time at home with her, and his seedy and often frankly dangerous hookups dropped off as he confined himself to his job and the damp and mouldy walls of the small flat they shared, and then she had died, and all the light had left his life and the idea of another person anywhere near him had been so abhorrent. He hadn’t thought he would ever want to be touched again, but now he couldn't get enough of it. He stuck his hands up the back of Sirius’ t-shirt, raking his nails down the skin he found there, making Sirius arch and shudder.
As quickly as the kissing began, it was over, and suddenly the air in front of Remus was empty. It took his beer-soaked brain a few moments to realise Sirius had slid off his lap and sunk to his knees before the sofa, drunken fingers fighting Remus’ jeans. Remus’ pitched in to help and soon his jeans and boxers were around his thighs and Sirius’ face was between his legs, biting and sucking at his hips and inner thighs. Sirius looked up at Remus, eyes still hazy, and Remus nodded. Sirius took one of his hands and placed it atop his head, and Remus dug his fingers into the silken soft black waves, pulling Sirius’ mouth to where he wanted it to be.
The first touch of Sirius’ mouth had Remus’ head thrown back, hitting the wall. It had been so long and it felt so good, and he kept his grip on Sirius’ head, gently guiding it back and forth down his shaft. It wasn’t quite enough though, so after a few minutes he pulled Sirius’ face off him and started wanking off in earnest, gripping himself just the way he liked. He sped up as he got close, and Sirius batted his hand away and got back to sucking, just in time for Remus to come down his throat. Remus stared Sirius in the eyes for a few moments before he collapsed back, syrupy and sated. Sirius sat on the floor, gazing up until Remus patted the sofa again. Sirius climbed up and they kissed again, Remus absentmindedly running his hands all over Sirius. Remus didn’t know how long they sat like that, but eventually Sirius pulled back.
“I need to go home. I have to be ready for Harry to come back tomorrow morning.” They both stood, and Remus fixed his pants and trousers, and walked Sirius towards the front door, even more unstable than he was before. He relied heavily on the walls to keep him upright.
At the door, Sirius turned and pulled Remus in for another kiss. “Thank you- for everything.” Then he was gone.