Way Enough

Sirius 

Sirius Black had never thought of himself as gay.

He loved girls. Girls loved him. It had never been difficult—his whole life, he’d been a flirt, a womanizer, the kind of guy who could have whoever he wanted. And if there was one thing Sirius was sure of, it was that he did not fit into the “gay” mold.

But a guy had needs.

And a couple of months ago, Sirius had figured out that sometimes, hooking up with guys could scratch that itch just as well as girls could.

It wasn’t emotional—at least, not for him. It wasn’t like how things were for Regulus, who, as far as Sirius could tell, had always been gay. Not that they ever talked about it. They didn’t talk about much at all.

But for Sirius? This was different.

At least, he had thought it was different—until the first time he ever went to one of Regulus’ collegiate regattas.

That was when he realized he was fucked.

Sirius hadn’t really known what to expect, but the second he stepped onto the crowded riverbank, he felt his entire worldview shift.

Because everywhere he looked, there were tall, built, ridiculously hot guys walking around in tight spandex shorts, abs slick with oiled-up sunscreen, shoulders broad and chiseled as hell.

Sirius had never seen so many stupidly attractive men in one place in his entire life.

And then he saw him.

One guy in particular had Sirius’ full attention—tall as hell, tan skin, with distinct scars across his chest and abdomen.

Sirius couldn’t stop staring.

What would those scars feel like under his hands? Would they be smooth, raised, sensitive? Would the guy shiver if Sirius traced them?

The thought made something hot curl low in his stomach. He must have been staring pretty intensely because the guy smirked and winked at him.

Sirius turned bright red, his heart hammering in his chest. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He needed to leave.

He spun on his heel and started walking—fast, heading toward the wooded trail near the river. He had no idea where he was going, but he needed space, needed to clear his head, needed to—

A twig snapped behind him.

Sirius slowed, heart still racing.

And then, like something straight out of his most reckless impulses, he heard footsteps.

Someone was following him.

His pulse spiked, heat creeping up his neck.

Because he already knew exactly who it was.

Sirius kept walking, ignoring the way his pulse picked up as the footsteps behind him got closer.

Then—

“Running away?”

The voice was smooth, teasing, and Sirius cursed internally before he even turned around.

He didn’t want to look. Didn’t want to acknowledge this,  to admit that he already knew exactly who was standing behind him.

But he did.

And there he was.

The tall, tan, scarred rower stood a few feet away, arms crossed, grinning like he knew every single thought currently racing through Sirius’ head.

Sirius forced a cocky smirk, despite the heat curling in his stomach. “Didn’t know I was being followed. Should I be flattered or creeped out?”

The guy hummed, tilting his head slightly. “Bit of both, probably.” He let his gaze drag slowly—too slowly—over Sirius, like he was considering something. “You looked like you needed some company.”

Sirius scoffed, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket. “Yeah, well. Don’t flatter yourself, big guy. I just needed some air.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “And yet, you look like you can’t decide whether to go or stay.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, ignoring the way his chest tightened. “Oh, please. You’re the one who—”

“—who caught you shamelessly staring?” Remus cut in smoothly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah. I noticed.”

Sirius’ mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “I was not—”

“Oh, you definitely were.”

Sirius clenched his jaw. “Alright, listen—”

“No, you listen.” Remus took a slow step forward, gaze sharp, voice dripping with obnoxious confidence. “I’ve been in enough locker rooms, met enough guys like you to know exactly what this is.”

Sirius swallowed. “What what is?”

Remus’ grin widened. “That thing where you act like you’re just a little too straight to be here, even though your pupils were blown wide the second you saw me.”

Sirius’ stomach flipped.

“You’re full of shit,” he muttered.

Remus chuckled, shaking his head. “Sure…” He let the words hang in the air for a second before casually adding, “Let me guess—you ‘love girls,’ right?”

Sirius huffed, crossing his arms. “Because I do.”

“Mm.” Remus nodded slowly, amusement flickering across his face. “And yet, here you are. Running into the woods because a guy winked at you.”

Sirius bristled. “I didn’t run—”

“You did.”

“I needed—”

“Some air,” Remus finished for him, eyes gleaming. “Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time.”

Sirius clenched his jaw. “Are you enjoying this?”

Remus grinned, stepping even closer. “Immensely.”

Sirius’ breath caught, and he hated it.

Because Remus was tall, and hot, and way too fucking smug, and Sirius wanted nothing more than to wipe that stupid smirk off his face—

But he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to do it with a punch or his mouth.

Sirius' heart was pounding.

He could play this off. He always did. It was a joke, just some stupid back-and-forth, nothing he couldn’t talk his way out of.

But then Remus took a slow step forward.

And then another.

Sirius instinctively stepped back—just slightly—until his shoulders hit the rough bark of a tree.

His breath hitched.

Remus was close now, too close, towering over him with that same infuriating smirk, his hands braced loosely on either side of Sirius against the tree trunk. Not quite touching, but still trapping him there.

Sirius could have shoved him away. Could have ducked under his arm, laughed it off, made some dumb joke.

But he didn’t move.

Remus’ voice was lower now, quieter, as he studied Sirius’ face. “You gonna keep pretending?”

Sirius clenched his jaw. “I’m not—”

He didn’t even know how he was going to finish that sentence.

I’m not gay? A lie.

I’m not interested? Also a lie.

I’m not terrified out of my fucking mind right now? The biggest lie of all.

Remus tilted his head, watching him carefully, like he was waiting for Sirius to figure it out himself.

When Sirius didn’t say anything, Remus just chuckled, so fucking smug, and nodded once like he’d already won.

“Sure,” he said easily. “Whatever you say.”

And then—

He kissed him.

Sirius made a choked sound, caught completely off guard—but he didn’t pull away.

Didn’t even think about pulling away.

Because holy shit.

Remus knew exactly what he was doing, pressing their mouths together with the kind of slow, deliberate confidence Sirius wasn’t used to. Taking his time, letting Sirius feel every second of it.

And Sirius?

He melted.

Because for the first time in his life, he wasn’t leading, wasn’t the one taking control, wasn’t the one deciding how far or how fast to push things.

Remus was.

And Sirius loved it.

He let Remus press him further into the tree, let himself be pinned, let himself give in.

Remus’ hands finally landed on his hips, gripping just tight enough to make Sirius’ breath catch. Sirius’ own hands hovered for a second before grabbing desperately onto the front of Remus’ folded down uni, fisting the fabric between his fingers.

Remus smirked against his mouth. “Relax, Black.”

Sirius exhaled sharply. “Fuck you.”

Remus just laughed, dragging his lips down to Sirius’ jaw, his throat, his pulse point—and Sirius felt himself spiral.

Because this was dangerous.

And Sirius had never wanted anything more in his life.

Sirius was breathless, his back still pressed against the rough bark of the tree, his fingers still fisted in Remus’ frabric like letting go might send him crashing back to reality.

Remus grinned, slow and smug, and took a deliberate step back, leaving Sirius feeling unreasonably cold without his body heat.

“Well,” Remus said, like he hadn’t just unraveled Sirius’ entire existence, “I should probably go find my team before the race.”

Sirius blinked at him, still trying to remember how breathing worked. “What?”

Remus chuckled. “You know, the whole reason I’m here?” He gestured vaguely toward the direction of the boathouse. “The rowing?”

Right. Right. Regatta. Rowing. That was a thing that was happening. Jesus Christ.

Sirius’ brain was still fried, still short-circuiting from the feeling of Remus' mouth on his neck, but then—

Remus winked at him again.

“And, Black?” His voice was all teasing confidence, his smirk just this side of cocky. “We should do this again sometime.”

Sirius felt his stomach flip violently at the suggestion, his brain glitching between fuck yes and fuck you before he could even form a response.

And then—Remus was gone, walking back toward the trailers like he hadn’t just rocked Sirius’ entire world.

Sirius stared after him, dazed, until his brain finally caught up.

Wait.

Wait a fucking second.

His eyes snapped wide open as one very important detail registered.

“Wait—how do you know my name?!”

Remus just shot him a grin over his shoulder and didn’t answer.

Sirius scowled. “Hey!”

Still nothing.

The fucker was just walking away, all smug and unbothered, like he hadn’t just upended Sirius’ entire existence and left him with more questions than answers.

Sirius groaned, running both hands through his hair before dropping his head back against the tree with a dull thunk.

…What the fuck just happened?

He didn’t end up watching the race.

Didn’t even try.

He spent the rest of the day pacing near the parking lot, hands shoved in his pockets, mind racing too fast to focus on anything else.

Because what the fuck just happened?

It was just a kiss. That’s what he told himself, over and over again. He’d kissed plenty of people before. It wasn’t a big deal.

Except, it was.

Because Remus Lupin wasn’t just some girl, he was a guy. He was tall, tan, ridiculously confident, and had kissed Sirius like he’d already known exactly how he would react. Like he’d already known Sirius would melt into it.

And worst of all?

Remus had seen through him.

Called him out. Knew before Sirius was even ready to admit it to himself.

So, no. Sirius didn’t stay to watch the race.

He left.

And for a while, he thought that would be the end of it.

Until later that night, when he got a notification on his phone.

Instagram Follow Request: Remus Lupin.

Sirius froze.

Then, hesitantly, he tapped the profile.

The photos were as hot as he remembered—Regatta shots, gym selfies, arms and abs that Sirius already knew were unfairly strong. There was even a candid of him, casual as ever, with a cigarette between his lips reading a book.

God he reads.

Sirius stared at the request for a long moment.

Then, without thinking, he locked his phone and threw it across the bed like it had personally offended him.

Nope. Not happening.

If he ignored it, maybe he could pretend none of it ever happened. Maybe all of those thoughts could stay locked in his head, where they belonged.

And for a while, it worked.

Until James ruined everything.

“So hey, I invited one of my new teammates, Remus, to the party on Saturday, told him to bring some of the other guys. I’d like for you all to meet each other.”

Sirius’ entire body locked up.

James, completely unaware, kept talking.

Sirius didn’t hear the rest. His brain was screaming.

Remus was coming.

He was going to see him again.

And he was going to have to pretend it never happened—pretend, just like Remus had accused him of doing in the woods.

Maybe he was right.

Maybe Sirius really was a fake.