Breakfast
It wasn't that Sirius and Lily didn't like each other.
Well, it was, but Remus would overlook that.
Sirius and Lily put up with each other. Because of James. And lately because, Remus suspected, Lily was growing on Sirius. Lily was fully willing, after having forgiven James for being a git, to believe that Sirius could also be forgiven.
It was just that Sirius couldn't quite forgive her for, after scorning his best friend for four years, stealing him away. The breakfasts were helping though, Remus decided, and felt a small twinge of pride that they'd been his idea. He had suggested to Lily -- who'd never had to forgive Remus for anything much, and so had befriended him quite easily -- that having Sirius over early in the morning, when he was sleepy and therefore vulnerable to suggestion, might work in their favour.
Lily had said she made extremely good eggs. Remus, who knew this, was very pleased when she included him in the morningtime invitation.
It was true, Sirius was willing to admit, that her eggs were better than most. And Lily would grudgingly concede that Sirius made a mean oatmeal, when Sirius had returned James and Lily's invitation and invited the pair of them over to the small but comfortable flat his uncle had left him. And they'd gone on very cordially, until Sirius actually made a joke that Lily had laughed at, and James and Remus had exchanged grins across the table with Peter, who was nominally in on the secret by dint of being excessively nervous whenever Sirius and Lily bickered.
And now it was habit.
Remus handed Peter the paper as he and Sirius staggered in out of the early-morning rain, freezing and damp from the motorbike.
"I don't care about your pride," Lily said, by way of greeting, "You're letting me buy you a proper waterproof coat, Remus. I'm tired of hanging your clothing over our radiator."
"He won't let me," Sirius rumbled.
"Things'll be fine," Remus said. "I've got a job coming through."
Peter raised an eyebrow at him over the paper.
"I have," Remus protested. "A proper job."
"Good," Lily replied, as a whisk began to beat the eggs in a bowl in the kitchen. "Omelettes this morning. All right with you?"
"No onions in mine," Remus said. "And -- "
" -- no meat for Peter," Sirius and Peter chorused.
"And you can stop dripping on the carpet," Lily added, handing Sirius a tea towel. He looked at it, then at her, then back down at the tiny towel clutched in his large, callused hand.
"I'll get some proper towels," Remus said, ducking down the hallway.
James and Lily weren't poor, but they'd spent only frugally on their house; the shower curtain they'd purchased was the cheap, clear kind, and Remus opening the door had sent modesty-preserving steam eddying away from it. It wasn't even that he hadn't seen James naked before. He'd lived with him for seven years, after all.
His hand was halfway to the stack of towels on a rack above the toilet before he realised, however, that he'd never quite seen James like that.
He felt his cheeks flush crimson, saw James look up, and hurriedly snatched the entire stack of towels, slamming the door behind him.
"Bugger," he muttered.
"Remus, I'm dripping!" Sirius called, and Remus shook himself, damp hair falling in his eyes. He bolted back into the living room and passed Sirius a towel through the kitchen door.
"How wet ARE you?" Lily asked in amusement, eying the large pile of bath towels in Remus' hand.
"I ah...just grabbed...James was in the shower -- "
"Oh, of course. Sorry, should have warned you. Still, nothing you lads haven't seen before," Lily said lightly. Remus fought down a hysterical laugh.
"Lily..." Remus said, wrapping one of the towels around his head and hiding his furious blush under pretence of drying his hair, "You and James getting on all right?"
"Yes..." Lily said, sliding the omelette materials into a pan.
"I mean..." Remus gave up on delicate phrasing. "Never mind," he sighed. Lily, attending the hissing pan, gave him a bright smile. Sirius dawdled into the living room and flopped down on the couch next to Peter, towel still around his neck.
"Something wrong, Remus?" Peter asked.
"No, why?"
"You've been toweling your head for nearly three minutes."
Remus removed the towel from his hair, slowly, and folded it with careful precision. He ran a hand through his hair, though that was probably useless by now.
"James was in the shower," he said.
"Yes, you mentioned," Sirius drawled.
"James really likes that shower," Remus continued.
"Well, I like a -- oh." Sirius' jaw snapped shut. Peter glanced up from the paper.
"Nice shower, is it?" he asked. Remus gave him a significant look.
"He thinks so," he said.
Peter smiled, and went back to his paper. Sirius, over Peter's head, made a wide-eyed, amused face. Remus pressed the towel to his own face, muffling his laughter.
The door clicked open, then, and they heard James pad down the hall to the bedroom. Remus, after a moment taken to compose himself, wandered back into the kitchen to see if Lily needed anything; Sirius, who didn't bother to hide his amusement, stole the sports page from Peter.
"Was that you nicking our towels?" James called, walking out of the bedroom in a pair of loose trousers and an unbuttoned shirt. He began to fasten it, standing in the kitchen doorway.
"Sorry," Remus said, in a strangled voice.
"No problem," James replied easily. Apparently he had greater faith in steam's modesty-preserving powers than was actually the case.
"Enjoy your shower?" Sirius asked.
"Course," James replied, pleasantly. "Breakfast up, love? Anything I can do?"
"Not much," Lily replied with a smile. "Plates?"
"I'm on it." James brushed past Remus to get to the cupboard, and Remus darted away. Sirius broke down.
"What's he laughing at?" James asked, confused, as Sirius' snorts of laughter filled the room. Remus covered his face.
"Nothing," Sirius gasped.
"Glad you had a good shower," Remus added.
James took down the plates and kissed Lily as he passed. "Don't mind them. They're quite utterly mad," he said.
***
"You should have told him," Sirius said, as he pulled on his gloves. The rain had stopped, and Remus, damp jacket over one arm, waited patiently while Sirius completed his Motorbike Ritual. Jacket strapped tight, gloves done up securely, helmet on head, tyres checked, engine examined. And that was just the short program. The Extended Motorbike Ritual could go on for an hour or more.
"What would I have said? Sorry I caught you wanking in the shower?" Remus asked.
"That'd've been brilliant," Sirius replied, bending to inspect the front tyre.
"Mind of an eight year old," Remus sighed. "You don't tell a man you saw him naked and thinking of his girlfriend while his girlfriend is in the room making omelettes."
"Good point. She'd've ruined the omelettes entirely," Sirius replied, working his way along the bike. "And anyway, you don't know it's Lily he was thinking about," he finished, standing up. "Ready to ride?"
Remus pulled his damp jacket on and zipped it up, accepting the second helmet from Sirius.
"This is not the most comfortable way to travel, you know," he added, sliding into the seat behind Sirius. The other man said something by way of reply, but it was drowned out by the roar of the ignition.
Once they were airborne, Sirius cut the Muggle engine and let them coast through the sky, back towards his London flat. Remus, who roomed with an odious elderly Muggle couple he was sure went through his things while he was out, generally stopped at Sirius' on weekend afternoons after The Breakfast, to catch a Quidditch game on Wizard Broadcast or pick up one of the double-dates Sirius continually felt the need to arrange.
"Could use a wash myself," Sirius said, and Remus snickered. "And not that kind, twit," he added affectionately. "I hate smelling like stale rain."
"Well, it's your flat," Remus replied. "You'll miss the first bit of the Harpies game, though."
"That's all right," Sirius said, as they circled in to land. He switched the Muggle engine back on, landed perfectly as usual, and rolled the motorbike into the garage.
Inside, Remus hung his coat on another radiator (it was thick, but took forever to dry) and slumped into the couch, while Sirius made his way into the back bedroom. "Turn on the broadcast," he called, and Remus obliged, lighting a small fire in the fireplace and tossing a handful of blue powder into it.
"Harpies at noon," he said, and immediately the sounds of the Quidditch announcer could be heard, booming through the small apartment. He sat back on the couch, head resting on one of the arms, and stared at the ceiling as the announcer began the pre-game team listing.
His mind, however, wandered.
He knew James was an athlete, the man had played Quidditch for years, and wrestled in the dorms, and worked odd jobs over holidays. It was just that he hadn't, when he thought about it, actually seen James undressed in nearly four years. So that was a shock. He identified that one and moved on.
James had obviously been enjoying his shower, he thought, with a renewed snort of laughter. And that was a shock. Categorise, and move on.
James had looked magnificent, and Remus had felt a second of stunned reaction before embarrassment overwhelmed. All right. A bit of a bad shock, but move on, because the worst was yet to come...
The water turned on in Sirius' washroom. Remus put a hand over his eyes, because the first thing he'd done afterwards, on seeing Sirius, was flash to James in the shower and wonder...
Sirius was broader in the shoulder than James, more solidly built. The same black hair. Darker eye colour. Probably more visible muscles, Sirius worked harder than James and had a regular job that required more strength. Oh lord, where was he going with this. Categorise and move on? Not precisely.
He wondered, idly, just how difficult it would be. Not to be seen. After all, James had barely noticed. If he was quiet...
His hand was on the doorknob before he even realised he'd stood up.
Just a look at what Sirius must look like now. That was all. It wasn't as though he thought Sirius was --
Sirius was.
He stared, temple pressed against the doorjamb, door open barely six inches. Sirius' shower curtain was, if anything, cheaper than James', which had at least been slightly opaque. The muscles along his arms knotted and slid under his skin as he moved. Dark hair curled in his eyes. And there were the broad shoulders, the solid build, the muscles and Sirius' hand moving slowly, his head thrown back slightly.
Remus, pulse pounding, closed the door. His hands nearly shook.
There was a soft noise from inside -- nearly muffled by the water, and Remus hurried back to the living room. He threw himself down on the couch and frantically grabbed for a book on Sirius' lamp table as the water turned off, and the door clicked open. He managed to actually get the book right side up before Sirius emerged from his bedroom.
Thank god it was a big book. The man wasn't wearing a shirt, what was he playing at? And his trousers hadn't even a belt, and --
"Good shower?" Remus managed. Sirius snickered.
"Never going to think of that phrase the same way," he said, walking to the fireplace. He picked up the poker, and tamped down on the burning paper and kindling sticks, putting it out. Abruptly, the room was silent.
"I thought we were going to hear the game," Remus said, softly.
"It's interesting, in this flat. Bit drafty," Sirius said, almost absently. "When you open the bathroom door -- "
" -- just looking for some....paper for the fire -- "
" -- a breeze blows through," Sirius said.
"Paper," Remus repeated stupidly.
"In the bathroom?" Sirius asked.
"Toilet paper."
Sirius reached down and took one of Remus' wrists, pulling him up off the couch. "Is that what you were looking for?" he asked softly.
"I'm not some sort of -- "
"Did you want to see? I'd have shown you if you'd asked," Sirius continued, in that same soft, persuasive voice.
"Shown me what?" Remus said. His head spun.
Sirius chuckled. "You didn't want to see James," he said. "Did you?"
"No..."
"But you actually got up...and came to the door...and you didn't even think I would be..."
Remus had run out of excuses and questions entirely. Sirius blinked, once, slowly. Remus held his breath.
"I'm afraid I'm a bit spent just at the moment," he said, briskly, suddenly. "But I'm sure we can work things out..."
Remus didn't even move when the other man's lips touched his.
"After all," Sirius said, sliding his tongue between unresisting teeth, exploring Remus' mouth. "After all, it's been an exciting morning for you..."
Remus let a small, throaty noise of pleasure escape, and Sirius laughed again. "Forget James," he advised, nipping at the skin on Remus' angular jaw. He worked his way down his adam's apple, nuzzling his shirt collar open.
"I never thought about James," Remus managed.
"Oh?" Sirius asked. One of his hands had slid around Remus' waist and untucked his shirt, warm and firm on his skin. "Thought about me, did you?" he asked.
"I don't...I can't...." Remus stuttered. Sirius lifted his head, and tightened his grip until their bodies were touching.
"Don't be confused. Don't be sorry. Don't be guilty," he murmured.
"But I -- "
"Just let me do this," Sirius said firmly. Remus let his head tip back, giving in, because what else was there to do?
Sirius' hands undressed him, touched him, explored the ridges of his ribcage, the smooth skin on his shoulders. And lower, over his waist, thinner than James, Remus knew painfully thin, but Sirius didn't seem to care as he fumbled with his belt buckle, tugged on the threadbare fabric...
Remus didn't even know Sirius knew how to do that with his mouth.
But he wasn't about to stop him.
He jerked, just a little, every time Sirius' tongue moved; this was not in the plan for this afternoon, but he thought about how quickly Sirius had made that final little noise after he'd looked in, and realised that --
And then rational thought went away, as he moaned and twined his fingers in Sirius' hair and Sirius released him, grinning wickedly, licking his lips, licking them for god's sake, and Remus' knees would no longer support him.
"Easy," Sirius whispered, gripping his waist and lowering him down. Remus, incoherent, nuzzled Sirius' bare shoulder, rested his own against the side of the couch.
"That was interesting," Remus managed. Sirius threw back his head and laughed.
"Well, it wasn't how I'd planned this to happen," he said slowly. "On the other hand..."
"You were planning this?" Remus asked.
"No," Sirius said. "And don't stop," he added, as Remus lifted his head. The brown-haired man obediently returned to the gentle pressure of his forehead on Sirius' shoulder.
"But you said..."
Sirius stroked his hair. "Planning it in my head, perhaps. Planning it in the shower, for that matter," he added. Remus snickered. "But I didn't think you..."
Remus waited patiently.
"Well. I didn't think you enjoyed showers the way I did," Sirius concluded.
"That's an awful metaphor."
"Wait until I get you into one," Sirius whispered. Remus felt a light shiver run through him. "And just think...we have James and his own deviant fantasy life to blame..."