goddamn, man child
Sirius was getting tired of hearing how good of a shag his best friend was.
Two days ago, Sirius woke up blissfully in Remus’s arms. For a moment, he laid there, watching his best friend’s shallow breath, and the way that his curls fell over his eyes when he was asleep. Sirius’s heart positively ached from how beautiful Remus was. Golden curls and light brown eyes and that one scar over his nose that he’d always thought was so bloody cool. He knew Remus hated his scars, but Sirius had always had a fondness for them. They reminded Sirius how brave Remus was. They made him a little more human, even when Remus was determined to make himself seem the frightening monster he believed he was. Sirius smiled fondly at him. How could someone so beautiful be so oblivious?
Remus groggily opened an eye, peeking up at Sirius, who realized he was hovering inches from Remus’s face. From his lips. I missed you, he thought. He had missed Remus so much in the past month. Sure, he’d been angry, and jealous, but most of all, he’d been alone. Not actually alone - he still had James and Peter and the girls - but nothing felt the same without Remus there.
“Good morning, Moony,” Sirius whispered softly.
Remus beamed at him. “Good morning, Pads.”
Then, “What time is it?”
“I reckon around 7? We never can sleep too late after parties.”
Sirius realized he had said we instead of I and felt a bit of warmth run through him. He liked that. We. Sirius and Remus. Remus and him. Waking up every day together. Merlin, he was so gone.
“You should probably leave before James wakes up.”
Sirius knew he was right, but he’d missed fighting with Moony, so just to rile him up he said, “Wouldn’t want any of your boyfriends to think we’re dating, right?”
Remus looked panicked. “No– no! That’s not what I–”
Sirius took pity on him. “Was kidding, Moony. I told you last night, I won’t be like that anymore.” Well, he’d try at least. And he’d slipped out from the bed, dropping an exaggerated smooch on Remus’s forehead because– well, he didn’t have a reason, he just really had wanted to see how Remus blushed.
But now, three days later, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep his promise. He knew he had no chance with Moony, but god, was there not a single non-vile bloke in the castle? It seemed like they had all gotten with Remus at this point, and they were quite vocal about it.
“He’s just so tall and, god, those shoulders,” he heard Garrett Fink giggle to his friends in the library.
“I want him so bad,” he heard some Ravenclaw bloke whisper as Remus walked by their table in the Great Hall.
“You wouldn’t think it, but Merlin, that man knows what to do with his tongue.” At this one, Sirius almost choked on the smoke he was inhaling outside the Greenhouse. He did not need to know about Remus’s tongue. Not while it was being used on someone else, at least. He was so screwed.
_____
The next morning was Sirius’s birthday. In all honesty, Sirius didn’t very much like his birthday. He played it up every year for James’s benefit, but every year, it reminded him of how much he’d broken from his family’s path. How he had been stuck and in the process, he’d lost Reggie.
This wasn’t just any birthday, though. He was coming of age. Seventeen years old. There were times he didn’t think he’d even make it this far. And now he would be an adult, far away from the grasp of his parents. And for once, maybe he had something to celebrate.
Breakfast was a grand affair, as usual. He was woken up to James, Peter, and Remus blowing the Muggle party-horns at him (Remus’s doing) at the god-forsaken hour of 6:30 am (James’s doing). The Marauders had a tradition of waking up excruciatingly early on birthdays, to ‘make the most of the birthday magic’, as James called it. To which Remus would usually roll his eyes and drawl, “We’re magic everyday, James.”
As usual, James took Sirius for their birthday flying, just like they did every year. Peter and Remus would sit in the stands, Peter cheering them on and Remus, burying his head in a book and pretending like he wasn’t watching. But Sirius knew he was. Remus’s eyes would flick up towards the sky every few moments, as if to make sure they hadn’t fallen right out of the sky. Sirius would’ve been offended by the insinuation that he could fall out of the sky, but his heart was too busy fixating on the fact that Remus cared whether he fell out of the sky or not. Which was stupid, considering that Remus was his best friend. But still.
In the dining hall, the boys launched into their 4-refrain rendition of Happy Birthday, which always ended with everyone joining in. Then, in the grandest of manners, James would make Sirius a plate of all his favorites - scrambled eggs and toast and beans - while Peter would make a cup of his mom’s hot chocolate. Remus sat to Sirius’s side, buttering Sirius’s toast. Truth be told, he didn’t just do this on Sirius’s birthday. Since second year, Remus had made a habit of stealing the toast off Sirius’s plate and buttering it for him, muttering how he ‘never puts enough butter’. Sirius would grumble, but his heart would squeeze with an absurd amount of love for his best friend.
As Remus placed the toast on Sirius’s plate, Sirius’s hand moved down to grab it, their hands brushing in the hair. Sirius wasn’t sure if he imagined how Remus stilled, kept his hand there just a moment too long. And then it was gone.
Sirius felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around to see Lydia Johnson, of all people, grinning at him. She placed a hand exaggeratedly on Sirius’s chest, the other on the table in front of him, before leaning in close. “Happy birthday, Sirius,” she whispered in a sultry voice.
“Thanks, Lydia.” Sirius was uncomfortable. Hadn’t he ended things with Lydia? He didn’t like her so close, not when his Moony was right there. He’s not your Moony, he reminded himself.
“Eighteen, are you?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Remus’s eyes darken, flickering between Sirius and Lydia.
“He’s seventeen, actually,” Remus replied curtly. “Which maybe you’d know if you weren’t so busy sticking your tongue down his throat.”
James let out a snort and Sirius could hear Marlene trying to keep her laughter from bursting out.
Lydia turned around, staring at Remus disdainfully.
“And who, exactly, are you?” she asked, with a sniff. Which Sirius thought was utter bullshit, because there was not a person in the castle who did not know who Remus Lupin was.
Remus smiled innocently. “I’m Remus. You might’ve heard of me – some people like to call me Loony Lupin.” He leaned in towards Lydia, whispering, “Some think I’m crazy.”
Lydia looked scared at that, and Sirius knew it was because Remus looked the part. With his moussed curls and the scars lining his face, he could every bit play the part of the crazed destroyer. Was it bad that Sirius thought that was kind of hot?
Remus just turned back to his plate, happily inhaling his toast.
Lydia stared at him a moment, before turning on her heel and stalking away angrily.
The minute she left Mary and Marlene burst out laughing, clutching at each other to stay upright.
“God, Remus,” Mary let out through his giggles, “I’ve been waiting for someone to put her in her place.”
“Yeah,” James agreed solemnly, “she’s awful.”
Sirius looked between them in shock. “Why did no one tell me earlier?” he asked indignantly.
“You weren’t exactly going to listen to us while she had her mouth on your dick,” Remus said, not looking up from his porridge.
“Is it just me, or is Remus particularly funny today?” Peter asked, to nobody in particular.
“Fuck you, Pete. I’m always a delight,” Remus responded drily.
Sirius, still partially shaken from the sound of the word ‘dick’ in Remus’s mouth, turned to Lily, who sat beside him.
“Even you, Lily? Even you couldn’t tell me she was horrible?”
Lily smirked at him. “Let’s just say, you’re a bit oblivious, Sirius.” From the look she shared with James, he had the feeling she was referencing something besides Lydia, but he didn’t know what.
James, finishing his orange juice, leaned down to pick something up from the floor.
“Okay, everyone. Time for presents!”
The boys had always done presents first thing in the morning, up in their dorm. But in fourth year, when they got close with the girls, they opted to open them at breakfast, so that they could all give their presents together.
James handed Sirius a perfectly-wrapped box. Sirius stared at him curiously.
“Did you wrap this?”
“Of course not.”
“I did.” Lily added helpfully. “It’s from both of us. James is hopeless at giving gifts alone.”
Sirius smirked, remembering the time James had bought Remus a Quidditch magazine. His heart was always in the right place, at least.
Sirius unwrapped the paper to find a brown box with an odd sort of wire sticking out.
“It’s a Muggle stereo,” Lily supplied. “It plays music, but we enchanted it to play any song you tell it. Try it out.”
Sirius whispered towards the box, and a second later, “Rebel, Rebel” began blasting across the Great Hall.
“Turn that off this instant, Mr. Black!” McGonagall commanded, but he could tell she was smiling.
“Sorry, Minnie!” he called across the hall. Then, "Thank you guys, I love it."
“Me next,” Mary demanded, handing Sirius a small red bag. He reached inside it and brought out five tubes of black eyeliner.
“So you don’t keep stealing mine,” she smiled. “This type is magical, so it doesn’t smear or anything.”
Sirius reached over to hug Mary. She’d always understood him, always supported his boldness - maybe because she was the same way, trying to act out to feel more like herself.
“Thanks, Mar.”
Peter handed him his usual assortment of chocolates and pranking supplies, while Marlene gave him a leather belt that was so rock and roll that he almost put it on right there.
“Happy birthday, Sirius,” he heard a soft voice say behind him. It was Reggie.
“Thank you, Reggie.” Birthdays were when Sirius had missed his brother the most. Growing up, they’d always done their best to make birthdays special – sneaking into each others’ rooms at midnight, bribing Kreacher to bring them extra sweets. It was small, but it meant the world.
Regulus looked nervously, which wasn’t a look Sirius saw on him often. “I got you something.”
Regulus handed him a small parcel wrapped in brown paper. Sirius tore it open, finding a small stuffed owl. Sirius looked up at him incredulously.
“How did you find this?”
“I grabbed it on my way out.”
It was the stuffed owl the boys had shared as kids, the one toy Walburga had allowed them to have, as it had been a gift from some friends of theirs. Sirius and Regulus had loved it, always fighting over who got to sleep with it every night. On bad nights, after Walburga had yelled and cursed, Sirius would slip into Reggie’s bed with the owl.
“I know you’re seventeen and probably too old fo-”
Sirius attacked him with a hug. “I love it, Reggie.”
Regulus stiffened in surprise, before relaxing into the hug and patting Sirius awkwardly on the head. “I’m glad.”
Sirius released Regulus, smirking at him. “You really need to get better at hugs. We should make James teach you, he’s the master.”
At that, Regulus reddened, though Sirius wasn’t sure why. “Uh– I should go. Happy birthday, Sirius.”
Sirius placed the owl in his lap, finishing up his eggs.
“Sirius?”
He turned to look at Remus, who was wringing his hands anxiously.
“You haven’t opened my present.”
Remus handed him a midnight blue box, wrapped in a gold ribbon. Remus had always been absurdly good at wrapping presents, which was ironic considering the boy was hopeless at any sort of art.
Sirius opened the top, gazing down at its contents. Guitar picks, eight of them, all the same midnight blue. Sirius picked one up, examining it.
“That one’s yours. I mean, they’re all yours. They’re our constellations and stuff, though. Reggie should be in there too. Yours is your star.”
As Sirius inspected each pick, speechless, he saw Remus was right. There was a pick engraved with the dog star on it. One with the moon that must be for Remus. A sun for James. There were constellations for Peter and the girls. And another star for Regulus.
“Remus,” he breathed. The picks were gorgeous. They were simple picks, but the fact that Remus had made them for all of them, for the people that Sirius called family. Well, it was just another example of how well Remus knew him.
“Where did you get these?”
“Muggle London,” Remus smiled, “over the summer.”
“I thought–” Remus continued, then hesitated, and Sirius looked up to meet his eyes. “I thought I might teach you to play guitar.”
Sirius couldn’t pull himself away from Remus’s eyes. He forgot he was in the Great Hall, with all their friends’ eyes on them. All he could think of was Remus.
“I’d like that, Moony,” he replied simply, not sure how to put this feeling, this feeling of pure belonging, into words. Remus understood how much it meant for him to be part of a group, a family. Seeing all 8 picks, side by side, and making beauty out of the astronomy that once brought him pain. It was beautiful, and so classically Remus.
They sat there for a long time, just staring into each other’s eyes, unable to say anything else. Sirius felt like he should do something, hug him or snog him senseless, but he couldn’t. How did Remus feel about him? It was at times like these when he felt like Remus must feel the same way. But he didn’t want to make a mistake, to compromise their friendship for a single kiss. And so he sat and stared.
James cleared his throat uncomfortably, breaking the moment. As if nothing had happened at all, Remus went back to his eggs. Mary murmured something that sounded suspiciously like “god, get a room.” Sirius ‘accidentally’ kicked her under the table.
“Padfoot,” James started, “it is unfortunately a Monday, so no party for you today, but we will be throwing you one this Friday.”
“I tried to keep it a secret,” Remus grumbled, “but James would’ve spilled the moment you gave him your bloody puppy-dog eyes.”
“How about I pretend to be really surprised on Friday, Moony?” He mimicked looking around the common room. “Wow, how did this all happen? I’m so shocked!”
“Stick to magic, Sirius. You have no career in acting.”
___________
Since that moment in the Great Hall, Sirius had gotten bolder.
He felt something between him and Remus. He knew it was a one in a million chance that Remus felt the same way, but he had to try. He’d spent the last four years flirting with Remus, but it seemed he’d have to step it up if he wanted Remus to notice him. Because, Merlin, blokes all over the castle were practically throwing themselves at Remus wherever he went.
Sirius knew he was laying it on thick, but, after all, it was Sirius. He could always pass it off as his ordinary dramatics.
It began that Wednesday, when they were all sprawled around the Gryffindor common room. Remus sat on their favorite couch, Sirius laying out with his head in Remus’s lap. This was normal for them. Sirius had always been touchy with Remus, so no one bat an eye.
Remus had his hands in Sirius’s hair, playing with the strands. This too, was fairly normal. Sirius liked to be touched, liked the closeness of his friends.
Everyone else’s attention was on James who was animatedly explaining a play-by-play of the last Quidditch game, complete with Marlene’s hilarious impressions of the opposing team. No one was looking at Sirius and Remus.
Sirius reached up to grab the hand that was in his hair, eyes still closed. He brought Remus’s hand down lower, resting it near Sirius’s collarbones. Remus’s breath hitched, and Sirius could feel his breathing shallow. Good, he thought, it’s working.
He was obsessed with Remus’s hands. The scars running along the back, the coarseness of his palms, the rings on his fingers. Smiling cheekily, he brought Remus’s thumb up to his mouth, running it across Sirius’s lips. Remus stilled beneath him and Sirius smirked triumphantly. Interesting. Sirius parted his lips, catching Remus’s thumb between his teeth. He bit at the skin, swirling his tongue around the tip of Remus’s thumb. As he closed his mouth and sucked, he could’ve sworn that Remus whined. Remus’s head tipped back, his lips pressing tightly together, and Sirius basically made love to his thumb. Sirius knew Remus would react to this, but he didn’t realize how much. It was like Remus was coming undone at Sirius’s mouth. And Sirius loved it.
As they got up to head to dinner, James sidled up alongside Sirius, leaning down to whisper in his ear.
“Don’t think I didn’t see you practically snogging Moony’s thumb. He looked like he was about to evaporate.”
Sirius smiled at him, all false innocence. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jamie.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself, Sirius.”
But as Sirius and James entered the Great Hall, he heard James mutter “You are so fucking whipped.”
To be fair, he was right.
The next day Sirius decided he needed to step up his flirting too. Remus had been visibly shaken after their little incident the day before, shivering whenever Sirius got near, but it wasn’t nearly enough.
Sirius and Remus were sitting in the library, doing their work. Or, rather, Remus was doing his work, while Sirius just bothered him. As they sat, Lucian Rose came up to Sirius, dropping a hand on his shoulder.
“Hi there, Black,” he said.
Sirius flicked a glance at Remus, who was watching Lucian with daggers in his eyes. Maybe he could use this to his advantage.
“Hello, Lucian. You’re looking good.”
Sirius watched as Remus flipped the page of his book so hard he almost ripped the pages. His other hand clutched the table tightly.
For dramatic effect, he reached up to twirl a lock of Lucian’s blonde hair.
“I love your curls,” Sirius purred, feeling Remus’s gaze boring into him.
Remus slammed his book shut, glaring at Lucian. “If you don’t mind, we’re trying to study here.”
Lucian’s eyes flicked to Remus, as if just noticing him. “I don’t think Sirius minds.”
Remus turned his attention towards Sirius, cocking a brow in that absurdly attractive way that he could never resist. God, Remus Lupin would be the death of him. It wasn’t fair that he had to be best friends with the world’s hottest man.
Sirius stammered, losing his train of thought. “Yeah– yeah, we should probably get back to work, Lucian.”
Lucian looked angry, but turned around and stalked towards the door.
“Got a problem, Remus?” Sirius asked amusedly.
“God, if he wanted to suck your dick so bad, he should’ve just gotten on his knees right there,” Remus grumbled.
Once again, Sirius pushed away the way his body clenched at Remus’s words and tried to ignore the images of Remus on his knees.
“Seems you’ve been talking a lot about my dick lately, Lupin.”
“Is that so?” Remus smirked at him. God, Sirius was in trouble.
“You know,” Sirius whispered boldly, “if you want to give me a blowjob, all you have to do is ask.”
Sirius expected Remus to blush and wave the comment off, or end the conversation with a “Fuck you, Black.”
What Sirius did not expect was for Remus to lower his voice to a sultry whine, look Sirius in the eye, and rasp “Please let me suck your dick, Sirius.”
Sirius was speechless. Remus smirked at his expression, winked (winked!) at him, and turned back to his book.
Well, that had backfired.