The Fall

No one told him how boring kissing is. Especially for Sirius, who 1. Cannot sit still for long periods of time, and 2. Despises repetition. It’s nearly mind numbing. He wonders briefly if it would be boring to kiss Remus, then he promptly shoves that thought away.

He’s begun making lists in his head to pass the time faster. Currently, he’s making a list of his least favourite French words. He’s at number 23: quatre-vingt-dix, when the girl he’s snogging– Clara– begins tugging at his trouser buttons.

Panic rocks his lungs, freezing his mental-list-making as he scrambles to grab her hands and yank them away.

He pulls away to the best of his ability, as he’s currently pressed against a desk in an empty classroom, (not his idea, as he’s been relatively public about his make out sessions, but Clara insisted and he didn’t want to seem suspicious).

“Oh, come on, Sirius.” She whines with a pout; still with her wrists trapped in Sirius’ hands. She leans closer, “Let me make you feel good.”

Sirius’ suppresses a cringe. “Uh–” He stutters, unsure what to do. Uncomfortable is an understatement for his current predicament. Excuses fumble to his mind but die on his tongue. How had he never thought about this? About people wanting to take it further than he’s willing?

The door creaks open. Sirius whips his head up, spotting Remus in time to see him slap his hand over his eyes.

“Oh– shit– I’m sorry–” Remus sputters. He blindly feels around for the door knob– “I’ll–”

“No!” Sirius rushes, earning a frown from Clara and causing Remus to stop dead. “We– uh, we were done, anyway.”

“Sirius,” Clara starts, but Sirius shakes his head firmly. Clara huffs and grabs her bag rather aggressively. She looks at Sirius expectantly, but when he says nothing she spins on her heels and marches out of the classroom.

Sirius slumps against the desk with a sigh and folds his arms over his chest. He looks at Remus, who still stands stiffly with his hand over his eyes.

“We weren’t doing anything, you know.” Sirius says, amused. “I promise I’m decent.”

Remus’ ears go so pink Sirius can see them from across the room. He slides his hand away, but avoids looking at Sirius entirely. “Sorry,” He says again, “Didn’t mean to ruin your…” He gestures vaguely.

Sirius shrugs. “Nothing ruined.” He replies honestly. He pushes himself off the desk and heads towards Remus. “What are you here for?”

“Er, a book for history.” Remus mutters, venturing towards the bookshelves lining the classroom wall.

Sirius nods and stares distantly at the dusty novels, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and replaying the scenario that just happened over in his mind.

He knows the reason he stopped Clara is because, well, he can’t very well have anyone seeing him naked, let alone get off with them. At least, not if they don’t know about his whole situation. The whole point is for people to not know. Then, he realizes, even if they would know, he still wouldn’t want that. He blames it on the fact that he simply doesn’t want anyone seeing him like that, not while he’s the way he is. Or maybe it’s because she’s a girl, and he’s clearly not into girls despite his wishes.

Neither of those are satisfactory enough for him– he knows this runs deeper, because he’s never found anyone sexually attractive. He’s never thought of anyone that way at all, actually. Similar to the way he’s never had feelings for anyone (until Remus), Sirius has never really thought about having sex.

He ignores these thoughts entirely and pins it on him simply not wanting to be naked in front of anyone. He has enough shit on the pile– he doesn’t need… whatever this is.

“So,” Remus muses, jarring Sirius from his thoughts, “Clara Plum.”

Sirius blinks. “I suppose.” He says, slow.

Remus hums, walking down the shelf in search of the book. “Are you two serious?”

Sirius follows, confused at the conversation topic. They haven’t talked about Sirius’ recent behaviour– none of them have. It’s just… known. He’s been getting with girls, that’s all. None of them have really felt the need to discuss it.

“Uh,” He starts awkwardly, “not really, no.”

Remus stops and hooks his finger on the spine of a book. “Oh,” He says, “what about… what’s her name? Trinity?”

“No…” Sirius knits his brows together. “Why?”

Remus shrugs, brushing the dust off the book. “Curious.” He says, vague and still not looking in Sirius’ direction. “Are any of them serious?”

Sirius tilts his head. “No.”

Remus hums and turns to put the book in his bag. “Interesting.”

“Interesting?”

“Extremely.” Remus drawls. “Also sudden. What made you start dating random girls?”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “We’re not dating.” He crosses his arms. “I’m entitled to some snogging, don’t you think?”

Remus snorts. “Sure.”

Sirius arches a brow. “Well, what about you?” He asks, leaning against the bookshelf, watching Remus continue his search for another book.

“What about me?” Remus asks, brushing his fingers over the book spines.

“Don’t you have someone to snog?”

Remus pauses, then laughs. “No.”

“Oh,” Sirius says, despising the trickle of relief he feels. “We should find you someone, then.” He doesn’t know why he suggested that at all, actually.

Remus scoffs. “Right.” He replies, sarcastic.

Sirius frowns. “What?”

Remus rolls his eyes, but doesn’t offer a reply.

Sirius’ frown deepens. “If this is about the scars–”

“It’s not.” Remus cuts him off.

“Then what?” Sirius questions, curious. “You could have any girl you’d like.”

Remus sighs, dropping his hand to his side but not moving his attention from the shelf. “Maybe.” He relents quietly.

Sirius stands straight. “Wait,” He starts, “you fancy someone!”

Remus’ cheeks run crimson, “Wh–” He jams his eyes shut and shakes his head. “I most certainly do not.”

“Who is it?” Sirius presses, hiding his disappointment with light teasing.

Remus rubs his temple. “I don’t.”

“You’re blushing.”

“I’m not.” Remus defends.

“What’s her name? What house is she in? What year?” Sirius interrogates. “I’m your best friend! You have to tell me!”

“I would, if there was a girl.” Remus responds simply. “And there’s not.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Remus Lupin.” Sirius says, flat.

“Probably because I’m not lying.” Remus retorts, glaring at the bookshelf. “Just– drop it, Sirius.”

Sirius huffs. “That’s unfair. You all know about my dating life.”

“That’s because you’re entirely public about it.” Remus replies, a strange bite to his words. “And none of us have a dating life to talk about. Except maybe James, but his is mostly made of lies.”

Sirius frowns at Remus’ sudden bitterness. “Sounds like you’re learning from James, but in the opposite direction.” He mutters. Then, more hesitant, he asks, “All right?”

Remus blinks, “Yeah?” His reply twists into a question. “Why?” He asks in the direction of the bookshelf, still not looking Sirius’ way.

Sirius steps in front of Remus, back pressed to the bookshelf. The wood digs into his shoulder blades and Sirius realizes belatedly that he’s made a mistake. They’re entirely too close– nearly chest to chest– and Sirius feels a blush rising to his cheeks at the lack of distance between them.

Remus’ gaze lifts to one of the higher shelves, above Sirius.

“You haven’t looked at me since Clara.” Sirius points out.

Remus drops his gaze to Sirius, then hastily looks away again. “I have.”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “You really never walked in on anything, you know.”

“I know.” Remus replies, but he doesn’t sound so sure.

“Then why haven’t you looked at me?”

Remus sighs and lets his gaze fall back down to Sirius. “I have.” He repeats.

Remus’ eyes wilt downward, and he frowns. He lifts his hand and lightly brushes his fingers on Sirius’ neck, and Sirius’ breath catches in his throat. Sparks tingle where Remus’ touch lingers; sending a trickle of warmth to Sirius’ chest. Remus’ breath dusts against Sirius’ cheeks, and, staring up at strawberry lips, he wonders for the second time that day if kissing Remus would be boring like it is for everyone else.

“Are you dating a blood sucker?” Remus finally asks.

Sirius claps his hand around the supposed hickey; fire scorches his cheeks. “We aren’t dating!” He shrills, embarrassed.

Remus looks at him, amused. “So I’ve been told.”

Sirius groans and drops his head back against the bookshelf. He rubs his finger over the bruise. “I didn’t even notice.”

Remus cocks a brow. “How did you not notice?”

Sirius can’t really say ‘I was too busy making a list of my least favourite words in French,’ so instead, he simply says, “Lost in thought, I suppose.”

“How were you distracted while kissing Clara Plum?” Remus questions, astonished.

Sirius’ cheeks run hotter. “Maybe she’s just a boring kisser!”

“Mmm,” Remus muses. He reaches above Sirius to grab another book, then steps away. “I’m sure.”

Sirius glares at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He questions, watching Remus add the book to his bag.

“Nothing!” Remus replies, walking towards the door.

“I’m not too fond of this whole ‘lying to your best friend’ phase you’re going through,” Sirius drawls flatly, following Remus out of the classroom and down the corridor.

Remus rolls his eyes. “I’m not lying.”

It’s then that they’re– or, more accurately, Sirius, is stopped by Clara. She glares up at him, Sirius blinks down at her, Remus stands stiffly at his side.

“Er,” Remus pauses, glancing between the two. Sirius not so subtly snatches Remus’ wrist to keep him there. Remus glares at him, Sirius pretends not to see it.

Sirius looks back at Clara. “Hi.” He says shortly.

Clara quirks a brow. “Hi.” She echoes. “Care to explain the deal?”

Sirius’ brows crinkle. “The deal?”

Clara steps back and folds her arms over her chest. “Why did you end it short.”

“I’ll–” Again, Remus makes a move to leave, but again, Sirius stubbornly keeps him at his side. Clara glares at where Sirius has his hand circled around Remus’ wrist.

“Uh,” Sirius stutters, “because I didn’t want to…?”

Clara’s eyes narrow. “You didn’t want to.” She repeats.

Sirius swallows, then nods.

Clara frowns. “So who else are you seeing, then?” She questions hotly.

Sirius stares, confused. “It’s not like I’ve been private about what I've been–”

“I know!” Clara cuts him off. “Are you not sleeping with any of the others, then?”

Sirius pauses. This is a trap in more ways than one. If he says yes, she will feel bad and probably freak out. If he says no, it would be odd that he’s just going around kissing girls and not bringing it further. Furthermore, he thinks some of the girls he’s been with have been claiming he’s sleeping with them. Which isn’t true, obviously, but it’s not like he’s going to deny it.

“Um.” Sirius stalls, all too aware of Remus’ eyes on him. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

Clara opens her mouth to protest, but Remus suddenly slips his wrist out of Sirius’ hand and presses his hand against Sirius’ lower back; butterflies flood Sirius’ stomach at the gesture. “We really have to go,” He says to Clara. Sirius stares up at him with quiet relief. “We have a project to work on with our friends and they’re probably boiling over.”

They step around Clara while Sirius nods. “Yup! Project, so sorry,” he excuses. Clara can’t get another word in before they’re briskly walking away.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Sirius chants when they’re out of range.

“Never drag me into one of those again,” Remus warns, looking far too smug to be serious.

“Oh, you loved it,” Sirius accuses. He pretends to swoon, “My guardian angel.”

Remus scoffs, then, like he’d forgotten about it, hastily drops his hand from Sirius’ lower back; leaving Sirius cold. They lull into a silence; nothing but the thrap of their shoes bounces off the corridor walls.

Hesitantly, Remus speaks, “So,” He starts quietly, “have you?”

“Have I what?” Sirius asks, looking up at Remus.

“Slept with any of them. I mean–” Remus’ cheeks dust pink– “If you don’t mind me asking.”

Sirius tsks. “What, I don’t get to know about your dating life but you want to know about this?” He half jokes.

Remus rolls his eyes. “I told you, there’s nothing to talk about.”

“But you fancy someone.” Sirius affirms.

Remus sighs. “Maybe.” He relents. “But– they’re… not into me, I guess. So. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Sirius tilts his head. He certainly doesn’t miss the use of ‘they’re,’ but he doesn’t bring it up. “They’d be stupid not to go for you.” He says instead; sincere despite the sudden jealousy pinching his chest.

Remus laughs lightly. “They’re with someone else.” He shrugs. “It doesn’t matter.”

Sirius sighs. Quietly, he admits, “I haven’t.” When Remus looks at him strange, he clarifies, “slept with any of them, I mean.”

“Oh,” Remus voices. Timidly, he says, “can I ask why?”

Sirius hums an uncertain sound. “I don’t know.” He half-lies.

“Well,” Remus says, “you don’t have to. Sex isn’t a requirement when it comes to dating. If they try to force it, leave them.”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “I’m not dating any of them.” He recites. Then, more quiet, he says, “thanks.”

Remus laughs lightly. “Don’t thank me for stating common sense.”

“Is it?” Sirius asks. “Common sense? I feel like everyone views it as a requirement.”

“Well, a lot of people do.” He shrugs. “Not much you can do about that. If you aren’t ready, you aren’t ready. If you don’t want to do it at all, you don’t have to do it at all. If they can’t respect that, you leave.”

Sirius releases a breath of relief. Unsurprising to no one, Remus knows exactly what to say to quiet Sirius’ nerves.

“So,” Sirius changes the subject, “this mystery person who has won your affection,”

Remus tilts his head back with a groan. “I don’t wanna talk about them.”

“Oh, come on! At least tell me what house they’re in!”

“Never.” Remus says stubbornly.

“You’re no fun.” Sirius whines.

“I’m plenty of fun.” Remus counters. “Without me most of your pranks wouldn’t work.”

“Our pranks,” Sirius corrects. “But fine. I’ll figure it out eventually.”

Remus scoffs a laugh. He looks down at Sirius, “I sincerely doubt that.”

Sirius quirks a brow, grinning up at Remus. “Challenge accepted.”