Chapter Text
“Well.” James said, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “It could be worse.”
The two tents that they had struggled for the past hour to construct sagged miserably beneath bending poles. As if three pure-blood wizards who had little experience with camping weren’t useless enough, none of them would listen to Lily and Remus’ exasperated instructions, choosing instead to flounder and tangle themselves around the ropes.
Lily’s dad, who looked nervous and pale at the presence of seven magical teenagers in his house, had given up after only ten minutes. At one point, Sirius took up the mallet and chased James all around the garden until he slipped into a patch of mud.
“Could it?” Lily puffed, blowing a straying strand of red hair away from her eyes. She was red in the face, but then they all were under the harsh beating of the sun. “Fancy some of my mum's lemonade?”
“Merlin, yes.” called Marlene, from where she lay across the grass on a towel in jean shorts and tank top, an edition of Seeker Weekly shielding her eyes from the bright sky. Dorcas was sprawled at her feet, painting Marlene’s toenails with sparkling blue vanish, her tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth. Both had watched them flail around with the tents, being very useless and heckling. “Ice, please!”
Lily smiled, shaking her head, and twisted to walk back into the small house. Straightening up, James bounded after her, jabbering– “Let me help!”
"Me and Moony are sharing." Sirius said as the pair disappeared, exhausted and grinning at the crumpled mess of canvas and pegs in front of them.
Remus blanched. "Are we?"
"Peter and James both snore!" Sirius whined, loudly, and he clung onto Remus’ arm as Peter scowled and muttered something indignant under his breath. "Why should we all suffer?"
Pretty sure I’ll still be suffering, Remus thought, but he only shrugged and tossed his bag through the opening of the tent that looked the least likely to collapse. He was tempted to crawl inside and just fall asleep right then and there: his hip ached and his shirt stuck to his damp chest.
Instead, he tore away from Sirius to slump down next to Marlene and delved into his trouser pocket for his packet of cigarettes. She smiled and offered him her lighter, wiggling her fine, blonde eyebrows.
“Those things will kill you one day, Lupin.” She told him.
He shook his head. “It’ll have to get in line.”
“Seriously–” James was saying, a jug of iced lemonade balanced between his hands and Lily trailing behind him as they came back down the path. “Your dad is so cool. Is he really an elicki-trishan?”
“Electrician.” Lily corrected, but she was grinning, wide and unabashed, a faint blush dusting across her freckled skin. Snorting, Remus lounged back on his elbows and blew white smoke into the air. He could feel Sirius' gaze trained on him, but he didn't look over. “Yeah, he is.”
“We learned about those!” Stare broken, Sirius spun on the spot to blink at them. “In Muggle Studies! Electricity, that’s your– it’s like Muggle magic, right? It makes things work.”
Dorcas peered over at him, pushing back her dark braids from her face. “How much attention did you pay in Muggle Studies, Sirius?”
Sirius pushed out his bottom lip. “Isn’t that right?”
She hesitated, tongue pushed into her cheek, before simply sighing and resuming to paint Marlene’s toenails. “Sure.”
“So your dad is like a Muggle wizard?” James asked Lily, his brown eyes blown wide behind his askew glasses. As he placed down the lemonade on the sun-bleached patio, Lily caught Remus’ eye across the garden, her mouth twitching.
“Yes, James.” She said, solemnly, fondly. “Exactly like that.”
*
The summer fait, which Marlene insisted on as a reward for being born, revealed itself to be bright and loud and bursting with people, hooting from spinning carousels with painted horses, drunk as they bent to bite down on bobbing apples.
Predictably, James, Sirius, and Peter looked on, eyes glittering large and amazed by the shining lights and hum of the carnival rides, while Dorcas and Marlene weaved their way through the swarming crowd, arm in arm, towards the stalls selling fresh cider.
The ache in Remus’ hip had only worsened since their disastrous tent escapades, and the pain of it was burrowing into his chest, souring his mood. He was silent through the feverish procuring of sweet toffees and goggling at the fortune teller’s booth– is she really a Seer, Moony?-- and Peter’s passionate declaration of love for the girl selling orange goldfish in plastic bags.
This was something Sirius seemed to notice, because he was soon grinning like an Irish pixie and pulling him away from the others, towards one of the rides that sloped high into the air, tracks twisting and curving in on themselves.
“I don’t know what the hell this is.” Sirius said into his ear as Remus handed over a few coins to a bored, balding man in a wooden booth. “But it looks like it will injure me.”
Remus sighed. “That’s the point.”
“Fantastic!”
A spinning head was nothing new to Remus, but afterwards, Sirius stumbled as his feet touched solid, unmoving ground, throwing his arm across Remus' shoulder. Remus smiled quietly, but Sirius was pushing his cold nose against Remus' neck and laughing into his skin, and Remus thought for a second he might just die right there. He cast his eyes up to the dark heavens and listened to Sirius, his cracking voice, his quick breathing, before disentangling himself.
"Muggles do that for fun?" Sirius asked as they began to walk away from the dizzying ride and towards the food stands, where Lily and James now stood, alone and surprisingly, talking to each other. "Are they insane?"
"You fly around on a stick thirty feet in the air, hitting magical balls with a bat." Remus muttered.
“That’s different.” Sirius argued. "You just don't appreciate Quidditch, Moony.”
As they near the stalls, heaped with steaming hot dogs and machines rattling with popcorn, Remus saw Lily nibbling down on a cloud of pink candy floss and chatting away to the brunette girl inside the stand. James leaned against the side, watching her with that soppy, soft expression that remained familiar to all that knew him, but when he caught sight of them, he straightened and ruffled a hand through his black hair.
“Alright, men?” James said, clearing his throat. “Enjoy the ride?”
“Sirius shrieked like a banshee.” Remus supplied, earning him a sharp kick to his shin, which he returned, but harder. He could still feel the ghost of Sirius pressed against his neck, the warmth of him, and he almost wished he could shake it off and never let go of it all at the same time.
Meanwhile, Sirius was glancing around, squinting suspiciously at the strangers milling around them. “Where’s Pete?”
“He found the duck shooting stall.” Lily mumbled through a mouth of candy, raising a red brow. “He’s occupied.”
“Ooh!” Sirius shook at Remus’ shoulders, his eyes gleaming all bright and all magic. “Ducks! Moony, we have to shoot ducks. Promise me we’ll shoot ducks.”
“You know they’re not real ducks, don’t you?”
“I would never shoot a real duck.” Sirius replied, his long, dark lashes fluttering with horror. “Please?”
Remus bit down on his smile. “Fine.”
"Is there anything else I can get you?" It was the girl from the stall, her voice cheerful, but when Remus glanced up, her gaze was trained on Sirius, smirking as she leaned further over the counter of the stand. Oh. There was that look again. Why was everyone always looking at Sirius like that?
James shoved at his side, and Sirius grinned, although something about it was tight, stretched slightly at the corners. "What do you have in mind?" He replied, and the girl blushed a light, lovely pink colour.
Now, Remus didn't feel that hungry. "I'm going to find Dorcas and Marlene." He mumbled and turned away.
"Moony!" Sirius said at once, scrambling after him as he pushed his way through the busy crowd. "You can't. What about the ducks?”
"I don't feel like shooting ducks right now." Remus snapped back.
A soft frown dented the space between his brows as Sirius looked at him, his eyes flickering over his face. He licked his bottom lip and tilted his head to one side.
"Come here." He said, and without waiting for an answer, he had caught hold of Remus' elbow and was dragging him through the milling crowd. As he ducked in-between two of the food stalls, down the shadowed, narrow gap to where the lines of trees rose, Remus glanced over his shoulder, but couldn't see any of their friends.
"What are you--" He began, digging his heels into the trodden grass below them.
Sirius gripped at his shoulder and pushed him back against the hard wooden wall of one of the stands to brush their mouths together. Drawing in a sharp breath, Remus’ lips parted as Sirius’ shoved one hand up under his scratchy jumper to smooth a palm over where his heart thumped in his chest.
And Remus, desperate, wrapped an arm around his waist, tugging them flush together until they were hip to thigh. The kiss tasted like too-sweet toffee and strong cider, and Sirius smelled so much like him, like Sirius, the same scent that clung to his bedsheets at school, to his shirts and his Quidditch jerseys, that Remus didn’t think he could ever drink enough of it in.
There was a sharp, loud bang, and another, and the two startled apart, still tangled around each other, panting as their heads snapped upwards to look at the bright fireworks shattering in the black sky overhead.
Grinning, drunk, beautiful, Sirius drew Remus back towards him by his neck, but Remus gripped at his arm, and twisted their bodies, so it was Sirius with his spine pressed against the stall, Sirius pinned in place.
"You said–" Sirius murmured, staring at him hard. "You said I could."
"I know.” Remus met his dark, burning eyes. “But I also told you to think first before kissing me again.”
"I did." said Sirius, shifting closer to him, his breath warm against his throat. "I think that I want to kiss you. Isn't that enough?"
God, he wished it was. Remus sighed and dipped his chin to catch Sirius' bottom lip between his teeth, before they were falling into it, headfirst, Sirius' tongue hot in his mouth, his thumb digging into his hipbone.
He grazed his fingers down the line of Sirius’ jaw, his skin warm beneath his touch, but the ghost of his stubble was rough. Sirius' own hands were at his belt, wrenching at the leather, but the clink of the metal had Remus pulling away again.
"No." Remus said, and Sirius stilled in an instant, his eyes darting upwards. "Of course it’s not enough. What the hell are we doing?”
“Kissing." Sirius mumbled.
Remus studied him, the flush across his cheeks, his guarded expression, and he asked him– "Are you gay?"
"What?"
"Are you?"
Sirius hesitated, some strange emotion flashing behind his eyes. "I don't know what I am. I don't think I should have to know."
"No. No, you don't." Remus told him, passing a hand over his face. He searched for the right words, something that would work. "But we can't do this again. It's not a good idea."
"Yes, it is." Sirius replied, very softly, and he was so close, so hard not to look at. Inky strands of his tousled hair were falling into his face, so Remus caught them and pushed them back behind his ear. Torn, hungry, Sirius' gaze flicked down to linger on his mouth. "You’re the best idea I’ve ever had."
"We want different things." Remus knew he should put a few steps between them, but he didn't, not yet.
"Moony." Sirius asked, and he caught Remus’ sleeve. "What do you want?"
Remus glanced down at where their bodies touched. "You." He said, honestly.
"Clearly, you don’t." Sirius muttered, as if that meant nothing, as if it could be ignored, how much Remus wanted him, how much of his life and his thoughts had been eclipsed by SiriusSiriusSirius.
"Sirius." Remus sighed. "Please--"
It was too late: Sirius was already glaring at him, in that way that he did, all fury and scorn, a wrathful fucking angel, all sharpness and hellfire. "If you're not interested, I'd rather you just--"
"Stop it." Remus snapped before he could open his stupid mouth and say another stupid thing like he always did when they argued. He choked on the words at first, they wouldn’t rise from his throat, they clung to his heart, desperate and clawing in terror of where they were going, out, out into the world where no one wanted them. He met Sirius’ hard gaze, because he had to this time, and told him–
"I love you. I love you, and I can't kiss you because it fucking hurts me. It's fucking painful."
Overhead, the fireworks continued to burst in soft, echoing whistles and booms, showering down gold, and far away, someone screeched from the highest seat of the ferris wheel. Suddenly, Remus wished he had stayed home this summer.
Sirius swallowed. "You love me?"
"I do." Remus mumbled, and it tasted bitter. "I really do. I'm sorry."
"For how long?"
"Since fourth year." He hesitated and when Sirius was silent, his heart skipped a beat, thumping in his ears. "Are you angry? I can-- I will get over it."
No, I won't. When Remus had first known he loved Sirius, it had been like waking up after a Full Moon to find a scar carved right across his heart. It would be there for the rest of his life, in sickness and health, through the wearing of time and the changing of his body. Even when he died, it would be there, until he was rotting into the dirt and had nothing left to give.
Sirius continued to stare at him, and he looked a little pale. "No. Why– Why would I be angry? Remus, I never– I thought you didn’t–"
“I didn’t what?”
“Remus.” Sirius said his name again, this time more breathlessly, stumbling over the hitch of his own voice. “Remus--”
“Guys?” James’ voice floated down towards them and Remus placed a hand to Sirius’ chest to push him back before James could step into the thin light and see them standing there, hip to hip. “Hello? What’s going on?”
“We’re here, Prongs.” Remus raised his head and smiled at James as he approached, clutching at a half-eaten puff of pink candy floss that he must have stolen from Lily, his brow furrowed. He tried very hard not to think about why the fuck Sirius had looked at him like that. “Padfoot was a little queasy, but I think he’s recovered.”
James’ face brightened into a smirk. “Honestly mate, we can’t take you anywhere.”
“It’s fine,” said Remus, and he glanced over at Sirius. “Come on. Let's shoot some ducks."
*
“Are you okay?”
Remus looked up from where he sat against the cold, stone step in the back garden at Lily Evans, who was wearing a thick thumper and a knowing sort of smile from where she stood in the doorframe.
He rested his elbows on his knees and tilted his head at her, and then through the illuminated window of the house behind, where Peter and Sirius brushed their teeth over the kitchen sink. A streak of white toothpaste smeared across Sirius’ right cheek.
“Do I not look okay?” He replied.
“You’re quiet.”
“I’m always quiet.”
“That’s what you want people to think.” Lily said, and she stooped to sit down next to him on the step, their shoulders pressing together. “But they’ve never heard you rant about how much you hate Great Expectations.”
“He still loved her even after she–”
“Remus.” Lily patted his leg and he tapered off to frown at her. “Are you okay?”
“It’s Sirius.” He mumbled, staring down at his socked feet.
“Being a dickhead, is he?”
Remus sighed, and there was little more he could say apart from– “Yeah.”
“Would you like me to thump him?”
“I think I’ll manage.” Remus grinned at her, the heavy furrow of her brows, her serious green eyes, and he believed her, he really did, not just because he’d seen her hex the most vile Slytherins in their year, but because it was Lily, and Lily always followed through on her word. He glanced back towards the window to catch a glimpse of Peter and Dorcas attempting to wipe the toothpaste from Sirius’ face as he wriggled. He shook his head. “It’s more me than him, anyway.”
“I don’t believe that for a second.” Lily huffed, but then James was appearing in the doorway, hands perched on his hips as he blinked down at them.
“I’m– err–” He said, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’m off to bed now.”
“I hope the tent lasts the night.” Lily told him, and she smiled, really smiled; James blushed a deep, dark red as he nodded, perhaps a bit too fast and a bit too enthusiastically.
“Fingers crossed.” He answered and with one last, rather helpless look at Remus, he passed them to duck down into the tent that he and Peter were sharing for the weekend. Remus turned to raise his eyebrows at Lily, who fixed him with a vicious glare in return, her own face flushed.
“Oh, shut up.” She sighed, and she rose to her feet from the step. “Are you going to sleep?”
“In a bit.”
“Okay.” Lily stepped back inside the house, her fluffy slippers shuffling. “Good night, Remus. My offer of violence still stands.”
He laughed. “I know.”
Inside the tent, Remus wriggled into his pajamas, an old shirt and cotton shorts, before flopping back onto the thin mat on the floor, his head sinking into the soft pillow. When he heard the hum of the zip, he didn’t look up, because he knew who it would be: Sirius, crawling in with him.
Quiet, Remus turned his face as he changed his clothes, so that he didn’t have to see the stretch of his tan back, the curve of his shoulder blades, and instead, closed his eyes. It was warm, and outside, the crickets were calling to each other.
When Sirius settled down next to him, a blanket bunched up around his waist, Remus didn’t say anything. Half an hour must have passed, in which time the two of them lay there in silence and listened as Peter and James’ distant voices squabbled over Quidditch, and listened as their arguing became loud, tuneless snores.
Remus was sleepy and aching and unable to think about anything Sirius, the scent of him, the slope of his nose, the rhythm of his breathing. So when Sirius rolled onto his side to look at him, when he raised a hand to touch him, he didn’t swear at him or wrench himself away.
He was still, as Sirius traced a finger across the bare strip of his stomach unveiled by the rising of his shirt, and Remus shivered, wanting so desperately to ask what Sirius had meant this evening. He even opened his mouth to ask it, but Sirius' gaze had hardened and he spoke instead--
"You're not the first boy that I've kissed." He said, his voice hushed.
Remus blinked and twisted his head to look at him. He wished the idea of that didn't make him feel so sick. "You never told me that."
"Well." Sirius murmured, and the edge of his nail dug into the skin just above his belly button, drawing circles. "It wasn't any of your business, was it?"
"Oh." Remus swallowed, but there was no anger bleeding into Sirius' words, nothing flashing through his blank eyes. "Um… who? Who was it?”
“A Ravenclaw boy pulled me into a cupboard last year.” Sirius pushed his tongue into his cheek and smiled, just a little. “He’s left school now. Not that we talked much.”
“Right.” Once again, Remus stared up at the low ceiling of the tent instead of at Sirius. It hurt a lot less. Maybe Sirius noticed this, because he shifted closer to lean over him, dark hair falling all around his face. He stayed there, like an unmoving portrait painted all in ivory, just watching Remus, soft and beautiful and cruel.
"Do you really love me, Moony?" He asked into the silence.
His heart could have burst right out of his tightening chest. Remus squeezed his eyes shut. "I told you--"
"Say it."
"What?" Remus' brow furrowed and he buckled under the weight of his rigid stare, but Sirius' hand had tightened on his hip.
"Tell me. Tell me again." He whispered into his ear, and there was something dark about it, something strange to his voice, it was bound with something desperate and sharp and hot, like a burning poker taken from the fire.
Remus gritted his teeth, hating him, hating him so, so much. "I love you, Sirius." He said.
Sirius breathed out, slow and shaking, before he was dipping his head, his eyes flickering closed, only for that horrible, shrinking second.
“Get up.” He said, quietly. “Come on. We’re going outside.”
“No, we’re not.”
“Come on.” Sirius said again, and he was rolling away to unzip the tent and duck out of the gaping opening. “We’ll go for a smoke.”
“Sirius–” Remus hissed after him, scrambling out to follow, but it was too late: he had lost him in the pressing shadows. He peered into the blackness and caught the rustle of his slight silhouette down the other end of the garden. Bare foot, Remus walked towards him, the grass cold and damp against his skin, until they were side by side, underneath the low slinging branches of a bending crabapple tree.
The moon was nearly full. It would be time again, in a few days time, for another transformation, another restless, aching night of running through forests and waking up bone-weary and numb. For now though, the clear sky was lit up silver, the faint speckle of stars stretching far, beyond the telephone lines and houses. Even better than that, was Sirius, who was now looking at him.
“Haven’t you ever read any fairy tales?” Remus mumbled. “You’re not supposed to go gallivanting around with monsters past midnight.”
“I’ll survive.”
“You don’t have cigarettes.” Remus pointed out when Sirius didn't elaborate any further, but Sirius only lifted his shoulders and grinned, dizzying, golden.
"Have I already told you how terrifying you are?" Sirius said. The breeze may have been warm, but it still cut through the thin layers of their pajamas, but neither of them moved. It didn't feel like they could, really, as if something very delicate would break if they did.
"You’ve mentioned it.” Remus said, staring back at him now and wondering if he'd hit his head on something.
"I want you so much." Sirius stepped closer, too close, close enough that Remus' breath stuttered in his chest, that he could see the swallow of his throat through the shadows. He almost pulled back, but Sirius had taken his face between warm hands. "And it terrifies me. It has terrified me all summer."
"That hasn’t exactly stopped you, has it?" Remus licked at his bottom lip, his mouth dry, and he remained motionless. “Sirius, what are you–”
“I’ve been even more terrified that you’ll ask me how I feel. That you’ll ask me what I want from you.” Sirius cut in, and his grip tightened, just a little. “And when you did, I fucking froze.”
Remus’ fingers drifted to ghost at his hip, soft, hungry. “Why?”
“I used to think that falling in love with my best friend was the worst thing that had ever happened to me.” Sirius said, and he brushed a calloused thumb over Remus' cheekbone. “But then I was disowned by my family and I was proved very, very wrong.”
The moon was gone. The stars had burned out. Now, there was darkness, and there was heat, the kind of heat that could kill you, blistering up the length of Remus' spine. Remus grinned at Sirius and tilted his head-- “You’re in love with James?”
"Shut up." Sirius said and he kissed him. "Shut up, shut up, shut up."