Lady Stardust
Remus
Remus was being pushed around by the restless sea of excitable teenagers that had decided to crowd the Gryffindor common room. Everyone was wearing makeup that was attempting to be terrifying for the image that it invoked, but ended up being more so for the terrible skill with which they had been created. He found that, although he couldn’t quite feel the soles of his feet and someone had their elbow pressed to the middle of his back, he didn’t mind the mob at all (not with the view he was being regaled by).
He was staring, as he often did, at the lean, giggling mess that was Sirius, who was standing with the broom he had transfigured into a bass on top of what had previously been the drinks table. His long black hair was styled to be curlier than its usual tamed waviness, his eyes were framed by heavy dark eyeliner and their mercurial gray color paired with his white flowy-sleeved shirt made him look almost… heavenly.
It was a stupid comparison, a dangerous thought, Remus was drunk in noise and cheap muggle beer, and it all made the treacherous feeling of longing bubble to life inside of him, a sorry explosion of pure pining. But it was alright, it would be alright at least, someday.
He took another sip.
Maybe it would be easier if he could stay, forever still, exactly where he was, listening to Freddie Mercury ask for somebody to love and looking at this celestial body making a show of himself for all eternity. Then he would be fine, maybe, probably.
It had been two weeks since he had properly talked to Sirius, at the astronomy tower under the cover of night. The memory of the moment before James came barreling into them still felt warm and loaded in his chest, the heavy hunch of the possibility for something more still intertwined with it. But they both knew that James had been lying with his Peter excuse, and, though he hadn’t said a single thing about that night, Remus was worried about James’ possible reaction to whatever part of them he had seen. And so, since that day, Remus had tried to keep his distance, more so for the sake of the only familial bond Sirius now held than for his own friendships.
He figured he could love from afar, or at least drain himself trying. He owed Sirius at least that much, for all the cigarettes and time and secrets and understandings they’d shared.
He took another sip, the beer was bitter and cold, but he found a strange sort of comfort in it.
Lily
The situation had gotten ridiculous almost as soon as the party had started, which had been about two hours ago. The red and gold corset she had decided to wear was incredibly uncomfortable and wet inside with sweat and spilled liquor. She did look incredible though, and she’d felt a sharp twinge of triumph for the way James had stopped in his tracks when she came down for the party and stared at her in utter awe and disbelief. The feeling had melted rather quickly when she realized he was dressed as Clark Kent — a white shirt with a few buttons popped opened that allowed for the unmistakable S to peek through, his glasses, and his always wild hair styled with probably gallons of gel — it was all a cruel, cosmic joke, and she wanted to yell at the universe for pulling it on her.
Clark Kent and Wonder Woman, foolish, truly.
However, she could find solace in the knowledge that they weren’t the only pinning assholes that looked completely absurd at the party, Sirius and Remus were definitely worse.
Their feelings for each other had been the easiest thing for her to figure out, but their unresolved tension was still a mystery, and their poor attempts at trying to disguise their longing were downright painful to watch. Sirius had been trying to absorb all the attention available in the room during the entire night, risking small, furtive glances at Remus to see if he was watching. Every lyric he sang at the top of his lungs was for him to listen, every love song he asked to be played he mouthed searching for him in the crowd and every shot he downed he did so looking pained and conflicted, Lily knew who he was thinking about.
Remus, on the other hand, was doing the complete opposite. It should have been hard to hide a six feet and tree inches tall body in the middle of a crowd, he should be sticking out from the mass like a fucking tree on a sunflower patch, he should be able to be found in a single quick glance. Instead, he lurked the shadows lined by the columns, or hunched in on himself if he ended up in the middle of the makeshift dance floor and casted longing stares that always landed on Sirius with the magnetic precision of a compass needle. He brooded from afar and sipped at a seemingly never ending and almost no-effect inducing stream of beer, likely looking for a tutorial on how to capture feelings in amber bubbles.
Lily was baffled at the scene, but she knew they had to be left to their own devices if they wanted to sort it all out properly, so she took to her own problems, and those landed her on James. He was four glasses into a bottle of fire whiskey, singing Queen’s “White Man” as far as his lung capacity would take him. Lily’s disappointment on Remus and Sirius was quickly overpowered by her disappointment on herself. How was she even finding that loud, frenzied, smiling, mess endearing?
She sighed, already resigned to her feelings for him. She’d been over the mourning stage of her long lasting and very one-sided battle with James during the summer, it had been fun while it lasted, but as soon as she had smelled grass, lavender soap, and broom polish on her Amortentia back in May, she knew she was way too far gone to be able to keep it up.
She stared at him once again, his hair wild around his face, his glasses already long lost, and she thought that maybe, falling in love with James wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen. She smiled, downed the rest of her daiquiri in a quick gulp and walked to him with determined steps.
There were things she had to do.
James
The dim lights were…nice.
The firewhiskey bubbling up in his stomach was…bound to become a problem eventually.
His costume was…falling apart.
But James Potter was having a fantastic night.
“White Man” was coming to an end, and he’d spent enough time listening to “A day at the races” with Sirius to know which song would be up next.
Sirius! He had to find the man! He had to laugh at him because of that one time he had told him this song reminded him of someone. That had been a nice day, he missed him. He turned to look for him but found Lily Evans strutting towards him in his stead. His heart shot to his mouth then dropped to his feet at the sight of her and he had to right himself using a table nearby before he greeted her with a barely slurred “Hi Evans! How’s it going?”
“All right James?”, She replied.
“Never been better…” he debated, not wanting to overstep, but his defunct by alcohol poisoning brain to mouth filter failed him “gorgeous”.
She sighed, then rolled her eyes, “I need to talk to you, Potter”
“That, I believe, can be arranged, darling.”
“Great, then we sho-“
“That is, before I find Sirius, to laugh at him,'' he concluded. The first chords of “Good-Old fashioned lover boy” eliciting encouraging screams and chuckles from the crowd. “Let’s go!”, he said, then grabbed her hand and set off towards the drink’s table, the place where he had last seen Sirius.
“This will be fun, Lily!”
Peter
Peter was not having fun. At all.
He had been unceremoniously dumped by Clarisse a half hour ago, and he’d actually thanked her for their time spent together. It had been proper embarrassing.
He had resigned himself to simply watching the crowd now, going on his third glass of firewhisky and looking like Peeves the ghost in the middle of a depressive episode thanks to his costume. It was a tad more fun than wallowing in self pity for the duration of the evening, and, from his seat on the windowsill, he had front-row seats to a cluster of events that looked like they would have promising developments.
He could see Lily walking towards James with a drunken decision but never missing a step, looking like she wanted to drain the blood out of him and then use his skin as a carpet. Peter couldn’t help but smile, he probably wouldn’t have to hear James crying over unrequited love anymore from this night on, finally.
Closer to the throng of liquor-fueled students, Sirius was standing on a table and pretending to play the last chords of “White Man” on his bass, looking almost solemn. As soon as the song gave way to “Good-old fashioned lover boy” he perked up like an excited dog and scoured the crowd with one sweeping glance, when his eyes landed on something (or rather, someone). He got rid of his bass in one quick move and jumped off the table in the next, letting himself be swallowed by the moving heads, but making his way towards his goal with renewed certainty.
Maybe Peter wouldn’t have to hear him crying over unrequited love either from now on.
Finally.
Remus .
This song, Remus decided, was incredibly depressing. Well, not the song exactly, per say, but he for sure was, and his feelings were too, and the way the soft, smiling voice of Freddy Mercury captured the fluttering, all-encompassing willingness to do anything for someone, then label that as love , and that being exactly what Remus felt, was by far the most depressing thing of all.
No, it wasn’t, the fact that he knew the entire song by heart, word for word and harmony for harmony, oh yes that, that was way more depressing.
The barely large enough crook in the wall he’d wedge himself into had been the sole witness to his tipsy wallowing for the past five minutes, and he would have rather remained as it was for the entirety of the evening, if whatever Higher Power deciding his fate that night would be kind enough to smile at him.
But he knew the Higher Powers were fucking bitches, apparently sticking their tongues out at him, when he saw a curly haired, white-clad figure emerging from the packed multitude in front of him.
“Remus!,” Sirius breathed, curls drenched in sweat sticking to his forehead and chest heaving.
And Remus could promise, he could swear on the risk of his giddy mess of a jumping heart suddenly collapsing, that Sirius saying his name made everything just stop . The autumn winds froze in the margin of the windows, the crackling fire got stuck in time, the dancing people became suddenly statues in anticipation.
“Sirius?”
Standing in front of him, Sirius sighed a soft smile, and stepped a tiny bit closer.
“Ooh, Ooh, can you feel my love heat?,” Freddie sang.
Lily .
She had seen Sirius jump down from the stage and set off towards the back of the room not long ago.
She had a flaming hunch of what he was doing. Unfortunately, James had seen him leave too, and unlike her, he had no clue of where Sirius was heading and why.
“Lilss,” He slurred, pulling her towards the crowd, “c’mon, we need to find him!”
“James,” She replied, sticking her feet to the ground as steadfastly as she could. She was a little shocked at how surprised she was at herself when her mind derailed to the thought of what a fucking nuisance James’ muscles were, “This is a shit idea”.
“Is not!,” he said, his strength making her boot-clad feet slide on the wooden floorboards.
They were gaining ground towards the back of the room now, the darkened crooks at the back becoming visible, and she panicked when she saw the shadowed figures of Sirius and Remus standing close together, frozen in their spots and drawn to each other in the magnetic way of theirs.
Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, she had to do something to stop the menace that were James’ utter lack of observing skills.
“Yes it is! for fuck’s sake James, stop!,” She snarled.
He stood completely still for a second, then turned, his face a study in a fear-struck expression. He swallowed.
“I have a deal for you,” Lily said, before she could get hung up on their still intertwined hands between the both of them, or the offer she was about to make him. “If you drink an entire bottle of water, and forget about Sirius for the next hour or so, I’ll give you a kiss”
James’ jaw dropped a little.
“A kiss?”
Lily nodded.
“On- Like- You mean- You mean on the lips, right?”
“Yes, James.”
“You- Are you sure?”
“Yes, if you want that as well, that is,” She clarified.
“Ok, Ok, Ok yes- cool, cool, cool- I’ll be needing a faucet in this instant, then,” He said, dropping her hand for a moment to rub his palm on his shirt. He looked back at her and smiled nervously, “It was sweaty,” he stuck it out again in offering, “Uhh… do you…?”.
She took his hand and fought back a smile, her nonchalance a complete fabrication now. “Let’s go”.
Sirius
Whatever sudden bout of utter impulsivity had pulled Sirius to be right where he was, in front of the boy of his dreams and walking slowly towards him, had vaporized the minute Remus had said his name.
He was running on fumes made up of sheer inertia and his usual overconfidence, but he had a confession to make nonetheless, years of mind bending yearning to slice dead, months of what he prayed was sexual tension to morph into something better. Maybe, hopefully.
He sighed, feeling a lopsided, lovesick smile pulling at his features, and stood close enough to Remus he could count all the freckles on his nose and on the birth of his forehead— even through the red face paint he was wearing— if given enough time.
Sirius raised his hands and took hold of the bright blue collar of Remus’ suit jacket with a white-fisted grip, looked resolutely into his eyes, and then borrowed Mercury’s words as soon as they were harmonized around them.
“I’d like for you and I to go romancing,” He sang, the words scaring him for their honesty and making him retreat instantly in embarrassment.
But his hands got trapped in place by another pair as soon as he tried to pry them loose. The contact made a shiver run through him, and his eyes were drawn back to a hazel pair magnetically.
Then Remus opened his mouth, and the impossible— inevitable— happened.
“Say the word, your wish is my command,” he looked almost tentative as he sang, as if he were stepping on soil that could very well be quicksand. But, regardless of the queasiness in his face, the lyric sounded like a devastating plea on Remus’ lips, it coloured the crackling air between them in desire and hopefulness. It was a heart-felt confession scratched over someone else’s words for what Sirius knew was a deep-rooted and completely groundless fear of rejection. Somewhere in the very back of his mind, murky with the all encompassing joy of requited affection, Sirius was aware that he had to say something, settle the tension that had been building between them for what felt like a universe of time, but the word Freddie sang about wouldn’t reach him.
He had to react, he was aware of that much, but his senses were so flooded with triumph he didn’t know what to do. He wanted to jump on top of the table again, he wanted to punch a hole through the wall, he wanted to run through the forest for all eternity and scream at the top of his lungs, he wanted to write a sonnet and listen to every single love song ever created, he wanted to rake through the entirety of London to find Freddie Mercury and tell him he understood every single word he sang, he wanted and wanted and wanted. He wanted Remus.
And that thought was what finally halted his streaming mind into reacting.
He nodded, his eyes fell to Remus’ lips, and he nodded again, breaching the distance between them but stopping shy of actually kissing him.
Then Remus’ hands were on the back of his head and their lips were pressed together in a bruising, long-ago established rendezvous.
It was an explosive collision, and Sirius couldn’t understand why on earth hadn’t the entire world been reduced to ashes.
Remus
They were kissing.
Time and space had both shrunk into the gushes of breath being left behind by their mouths in their conquering odyssey into each other. Maps were being drawn in pressings of lips and slidings of tongues and adventurous bites. A clash of worlds. Remus foolishly wondered if this all-consuming feeling of achievement was what Columbus had felt all those years ago.
He was dying and being brought back to life by Sirius’ tongue sliding softly around his mouth over and over and over again.
Then Sirius pulled back, the lack of contact leaving a ghostly weight on Remus’ lips, and looked into his eyes once again.
“Yes,” he said, certainty etched in every one of the letters in the word, “I want to, I want this, I want you ,” he said.
Remus, with sickening absurdity, could only huff a small chuckle. “Me too,” he replied “You disgusting sap”.
“Thank fuck,” Sirius said, then leaned in and kissed him again.