Fic: What Sirius wants…for blackmoonruby
Title: What Sirius wants…
Author/Artist: hpsauce
Giftee: blackmoonruby
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,805
Characters/Pairing: Remus/Severus, Remus/Sirius
Warnings: cross dressing, bad (or offensive) language, dancing, implication of cottaging (sex in toilets)
Summary: “Sirius,” Remus said, his voice now sounding more concerned than angry. “Do you know what sort of place Indutus is?”
“It’s a bar,” Sirius said. “And there is dancing and music.” There was silence for a few moments. “Oh,” he said. “Is it, well, one of your bars?”
Sirius thinks it’s only fair that he is allowed to tag along on one of Remus’ dates…no matter where they end up.
***
“You don’t want to come, Sirius,” Remus said tiredly, pouring himself another glass of white and frowning at his flatmate. Sirius did not even blink. His smile did not falter. His hands on the table tapped in a way that made Remus more than happy to forget about how attractive the man was and break his nose.
“Yes, I do,” Sirius said. His smile widened. “I really, really do.”
“You only want to come,” Remus said reasonably. “Because I said you can’t. Anyway, Sirius, you are not coming. It is a date, my date. I don’t tag along when you go out with Tara or Hestia or Leslie.”
“You came with me and Sabrine,” Sirius said with a triumphant smirk. “You came and you wore a suit and almost stole her away.”
“That was a double date,” Remus said. “And you were meant to be dating her sister. It is hardly my fault if Sabrine turned out to be taller and blonder and had bigger tits.”
“My point is,” Sirius said, fixing Remus to his chair with a single, withering look. “I am coming with you. I very much doubt Severus has an attractive bird stuffed in a cupboard somewhere he could bring, but I will be happy to dance and chat up anything in a skirt.”
Remus, who had taken a sip of wine, seemed suddenly to pale. The wine dribbled down his chin. His eyes seemed to widen for a second before he blinked and smiled. “Don’t you think it will be awkward?”
“Nope,” Sirius said coolly. “I think you just don’t want me to come. I think you don’t want me to see how terrible he is. I can tell you’re lying when you say you have a great time. Everyone lies, but you don’t even have the courtesy to lie without enthusiasm.”
“Did you ever think that maybe I really do have a good time?” Remus asked.
“Not possible,” Sirius said. “It’s Snivellus. He probably drips grease on you all evening. Would explain the stains.”
Remus flushed and stood, draining his glass in a single gulp and then rubbing his hands on his jeans. “Sirius,” he said quietly. “You’re not going.”
~
“So, where are we going?” Sirius asked, knocking on Remus’ door. The knob twisted slightly, indicating that Remus had grabbed it in an attempt to stop him from entering.
“We are not going anywhere,” Remus’ muffled voice said angrily. “I am going to Indutus.”
“Wow,” Sirius muttered happily. “They had the Weird Sisters last week. I’ve always wanted to see them. They’re meant to be really good. Myron Wagtail is only two years older than us, y’know. He’s a bloody genius.”
“Sirius,” Remus said, his voice now sounding more concerned than angry. “Do you know what sort of place Indutus is?”
“It’s a bar,” Sirius said. “And there is dancing and music.” There was silence for a few moments. “Oh,” he said. “Is it, well, one of your bars?”
“Sirius,” Remus said softly. He made a couple of strange sounds. “Well, there is no way to say it,” a few more strange sounds, sounding not unlike Remus being strangled. “Sirius, I’m wearing a dress!”
“Not again,” Sirius said. “They’re dress robes, Moony. They’re perfectly masculine, not that you probably worry much about that, you big poufy-,”
The door had swung open while he had been ranting and he now stopped short, mouth agape. “That’s not a robe,” he said very slowly, his eyes running down to where over a foot of Remus’ pale thigh was on show. “Will Snivellus be - ? Oh, I’m not going if he’ll be all - ! Will I have to - ?”
“You don’t have to come,” Remus said wearily. “But if you want to, what you’re wearing will be fine.”
~
Sirius felt like gagging. It was not so much the smell of the place, although it did smell of stale sweat, or the sight of two rather chubby boys dancing against each other in nothing but miniskirts, even if that was turning his stomach, it was more what was going on across from him.
He knew that he should not say anything. Remus would no doubt roll his eyes and say ‘but we’re only holding hands’, but it was disgusting, it made Sirius’ stomach turn, it made him want to hit Severus Snape so hard he would be seeing out of his arse.
“See something you want, Black?” Snape said with a sneer. Sirius realised he had been staring and almost blushed. Instead, he fixed his eyes on Remus, who seemed to be looking at the ceiling. It must have been very interesting - maybe it was painted.
“You wish, Snape,” Sirius said childishly. He tapped his fingers on the table along with the beat of the music, looking around. He wanted to dance, but there was not a girl to be seen, especially not one of his standards.
“I want to dance,” Remus said, as if echoing his thoughts. Sirius turned around to look at him as he struggled to his feet, teetering on the stupid shoes he had insisted on wearing. Snape did not seem to pay any attention, instead letting his hand fall limply to his side when Remus released it.
“Severus,” Remus said sharply, his amber eyes losing almost all of their familiar warmth. Snape scowled and stood, pulling his coat closed. Sirius realised at that moment that he had something to thank Snape for. He could not even bear to imagine what it would have been like if he had decided to wear something like Remus.
“Sirius?” Sirius looked up blankly. Remus held his free hand out to him, to help him out of his seat. He stared at it for a moment. “Are you coming up to dance?”
“I’m fine,” Sirius said, blinking. “I think I’ll stay here, y’know, look around, get another firewhiskey-,”
Remus had already gone. Sirius sighed and looked down at the empty glass in his hand. The music was so loud it made his head thump strangely. He turned around, telling himself he was looking to find the band, and his eyes settled on Remus.
He looked, well - from such a distance, in the smoke and sweat filled room, he looked like a very attractive woman indeed. That may have just been the alcohol talking though. He was pressed up against Snape, who looked like he would rather be anywhere but there. Sirius rolled his eyes. Snape was such an idiot. Why did he look so upset when he was dancing with that?
Remus moved even closer, if that was possible, slipping one arm around Snape’s shoulders. His face was dangerously close to Snape, their nose almost touching.
The urge to hit Snape returned with a vengeance. Sirius’ knuckles cracked, the glass in his hand shattered. Remus rocked his hips slightly, his skirt riding up. He moved his hips in hypnotising circles, his eyes closed, his lips parted. His other hand snaked around Snape’s waist.
Sirius was not sure when he had made the decision to stand up and move onto the dance floor. He had, only a few second before, been more than content to turn back to the bar and get himself a drink. Now, however, he found himself moving across the dance floor towards Remus, his face set in a scowl.
Remus’ lips were open and dangerously close to Snape’s ear now. Sirius moved closer, he was almost pressed against Remus now. The man beside him winked at Sirius and moved up, pressing himself against Sirius’ thigh.
Snape and Remus were kissing. Sirius felt like he was going to be ill. Snape’s hands were in Remus’ hair and inside his top and all over. Sirius did not know what to do. He pushed the other man aside and pulled at Remus’ arm, trying to free him from Snape’s dementor like embrace.
The two men turned and frowned at him. Remus’ arm fell back to his side and then he turned to Snape. The man scowled deeply, a frown leaving deep creases across his brow, before he turned and stalked from the room.
Sirius felt a feeling of triumphant swelling in his chest. It spread upwards, presenting itself as a broad smile. Then the feeling died. Remus hurried across the room, stumbling in the too-high heels as he moved towards the exit. Sirius sighed and ran after him.
Remus looked up, holding onto the handrail to pull himself back to his feet. His legs shook uncertainly and Sirius sighed, wrapping an arm around his waist.
“What am I going to do?” Remus asked evenly, his arm wrapped tightly around Sirius’ shoulder, as if it were the only thing keeping him there. “You’re meant to tell me it will be alright,” he said, poking Sirius with his free hand. “That what I told you when Hestia left. You’re meant to-.”
“I don’t care what I’m meant to do,” Sirius said strongly, pulling Remus upright again. “I am going to clean you up and then I am going to take you home. I might even make you a cuppa if you’re lucky.”
“Mmm?” Remus said noncommittally. His legs seemed to buckle again. Sirius sighed and spun around, putting an arm behind Remus’ knees so he could swing him up into his arms.
Remus’ head rested on his shoulder. The man sighed softly. His arms comfortably wrapped around Sirius’ neck as they walked back upstairs.
“Now, we’re going to the gents to get you cleaned up,” Sirius said. Remus’ eyes flew open again and he shook his head.
“Sirius do you know what happens in the gents in, well, places like this?” he said, looking awkwardly at the door as Sirius swung it open. Sirius obviously did not, if anything could be judged by the look on his face.
The smaller man pulled down his skirt awkwardly and flushed before he moved into one of the cubicles. Sirius sighed, moving into the only one left free. He set Remus down on the seat and cocked his head to the side.
Remus did look a little worse for wear. He had evidently taken a tumble somewhere. His stockings had a huge ladder in, which showed a rather nasty graze and one side of his face was reddening behind the layer of make-up.
“Sit still,” Sirius said with none of the conviction such an order should carry. He placed a steadying hand on Remus’ knee, crouching before him and summoned a wet towel over the cubicle door. “If there is one thing I know how to do,” he said seriously. “It’s how to look after a lady.”
Remus scowled at him and then closed his eyes as the cloth ran across his wounded cheek. Sirius smiled and hummed slightly to himself as he ran it across one of Remus’ eyes and then the other, before bringing it down to Remus’ rouged lips.
“You know,” Sirius said softly, leaning back on his heels. “You make a pretty nice girl, actually.”
He ran his fingers along Remus’ jaw and then back to his lips. He dragged the wet cloth across Remus’ bruised cheek, cocking his head to the side again. He was getting very close now. He could feel Remus breathe.
Sirius did not know why he kissed him. He just knew that he did.
Sirius had never kissed a man before, but he decided, if they were all like this, then he would have to make a habit of it.
Remus’ lips were as soft as Sirius had imagined. His hands were large and callused and very warm. His cheeks, when they rubbed against Sirius’ were rough with the next morning’s stubble. It was not that much different from kissing a girl, and, at the same time, it was nothing like it at all.
Kissing Remus was rather like wrestling Remus. It started violent and passionate and fun until they finally came to their senses. Then, much like after wrestling, there was a moment of awkwardness where, if they had been rolling on the floor they would have dusted off. Instead they just pulled apart as quickly as they could.
“That’s the face done,” Sirius said awkwardly, resting his head on the back of the door. Remus’ face was flushed and his eyes did not quite meet Sirius’.
“Thank you,” Remus said awkwardly. “For everything. Emmeline is a very lucky girl.”
“Oh,” Sirius said, moving to undo Remus’ shoes. “We broke up last week. So maybe she is.” He pulled the left shoe off and moved to the right, making quick work of the buckle. “And don’t say you’re sorry - please.”
Remus said nothing. His face turned up to the ceiling as he leaned back against the cistern. The wall of the cubicle moved slightly and they both jumped. A strange moan floated around the bathroom and Remus flushed an even darker shade of red.
Sirius moved his hands up to Remus’ thighs. Remus jumped and looked down. His hands grabbed Sirius’ wrists, stilling them where they were, just creeping under his skirt.
“I have to take your stockings off,” Sirius said in way of an explanation. “To see to your knee. I have a salve at the flat, but we need to clean it first.”
“I-,” Remus flushed again, eyes darting back to the cubicle wall, which jumped again. “I’ll get it.” He slipped his hands under the skirt, trying his best to cover whatever he had hidden beneath it. He was not quite at his best, however, so as he unclipped the second stocking, Sirius caught a flash of them.
“Moony,” he muttered. “My word, you kinky bastard.”
Remus flushed and pushed his stockings down over his knees. He winced slightly as they skimmed over the graze on his shin. Sirius sighed and picked up the cloth again, running it across Remus’ warm thighs and over the tender flesh of his knee and then his bleeding shin.
“What have you been doing to yourself?” Sirius asked the air, running the cloth slowly down to Remus’ ankle. Remus’ legs shook slightly. Sirius grasped his ankle tightly in his hand and pulled the stocking over his foot.
He was about to make a comment about the terrible state of his ankles when there was a strange hiccoughing noise from above him. It was almost drowned out by the strange sounds coming from the cubicle beside them, but it was still there.
Sirius looked up and stared. He had never seen Remus’ looking do pained before. In fact, Remus tended not to show pain. He had seen Remus be cut with a silver knife, he had seen Remus almost have his arm pulled away completely, he had seen Remus fall from the top of the Astronomy Tower (although, truth be told, they had been very drunk) but he had never in his life seen Remus look so completely wretched.
“Moony?” he breathed, lifting his face up to catch the light. The man’s eyes were squeezed shut and, as Sirius watched, a tear slipped from under the golden lashes and slid down his cheek.
“Does it hurt than badly?” he asked stupidly, taking his foot once again in his hand and moving the swollen ankle slowly. Remus gave a small, shaky laugh and then shook his head.
“Of course not,” Remus said. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I go through all this and then I give in.”
“You’re not-?” Sirius breathed. Images of Severus Snape forcing him to take the dark mark swam in his mind. He was going to hit that man so hard that-
“I let myself fall in love,” Remus said. “And it was so stupid and now I know I have to let go.”
“With Snivellus?” Sirius asked. Remus turned his face away, his brow furrowed. Sirius sighed and leaned forward, pulling Remus into his arms again. He supposed it was time they went home.
This time Remus did not move, instead hanging like an oversized doll, taking an odd, shaky step whenever his feet rested against the ground.
Sirius hoped he would not be too upset when he realised he had spent the floo ride home clinging to Sirius as if the sky was about to fall upon their heads.
At home, Sirius did not even make a cup of tea. Instead he tucked Remus into bed and then, realising that he would not let go of him soon, climbed into bed beside him.
Of course, Sirius thought, Snivellus would kill him in the morning. Tara might not be too pleased either, if she found out. He supposed Remus might be a little upset, but as long as he forgave him, it would be all right. Besides, Sirius thought, if they knew how comfortable it was in Remus’ arms they would understand.
Author/Artist: hpsauce
Giftee: blackmoonruby
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,805
Characters/Pairing: Remus/Severus, Remus/Sirius
Warnings: cross dressing, bad (or offensive) language, dancing, implication of cottaging (sex in toilets)
Summary: “Sirius,” Remus said, his voice now sounding more concerned than angry. “Do you know what sort of place Indutus is?”
“It’s a bar,” Sirius said. “And there is dancing and music.” There was silence for a few moments. “Oh,” he said. “Is it, well, one of your bars?”
Sirius thinks it’s only fair that he is allowed to tag along on one of Remus’ dates…no matter where they end up.
***
“You don’t want to come, Sirius,” Remus said tiredly, pouring himself another glass of white and frowning at his flatmate. Sirius did not even blink. His smile did not falter. His hands on the table tapped in a way that made Remus more than happy to forget about how attractive the man was and break his nose.
“Yes, I do,” Sirius said. His smile widened. “I really, really do.”
“You only want to come,” Remus said reasonably. “Because I said you can’t. Anyway, Sirius, you are not coming. It is a date, my date. I don’t tag along when you go out with Tara or Hestia or Leslie.”
“You came with me and Sabrine,” Sirius said with a triumphant smirk. “You came and you wore a suit and almost stole her away.”
“That was a double date,” Remus said. “And you were meant to be dating her sister. It is hardly my fault if Sabrine turned out to be taller and blonder and had bigger tits.”
“My point is,” Sirius said, fixing Remus to his chair with a single, withering look. “I am coming with you. I very much doubt Severus has an attractive bird stuffed in a cupboard somewhere he could bring, but I will be happy to dance and chat up anything in a skirt.”
Remus, who had taken a sip of wine, seemed suddenly to pale. The wine dribbled down his chin. His eyes seemed to widen for a second before he blinked and smiled. “Don’t you think it will be awkward?”
“Nope,” Sirius said coolly. “I think you just don’t want me to come. I think you don’t want me to see how terrible he is. I can tell you’re lying when you say you have a great time. Everyone lies, but you don’t even have the courtesy to lie without enthusiasm.”
“Did you ever think that maybe I really do have a good time?” Remus asked.
“Not possible,” Sirius said. “It’s Snivellus. He probably drips grease on you all evening. Would explain the stains.”
Remus flushed and stood, draining his glass in a single gulp and then rubbing his hands on his jeans. “Sirius,” he said quietly. “You’re not going.”
~
“So, where are we going?” Sirius asked, knocking on Remus’ door. The knob twisted slightly, indicating that Remus had grabbed it in an attempt to stop him from entering.
“We are not going anywhere,” Remus’ muffled voice said angrily. “I am going to Indutus.”
“Wow,” Sirius muttered happily. “They had the Weird Sisters last week. I’ve always wanted to see them. They’re meant to be really good. Myron Wagtail is only two years older than us, y’know. He’s a bloody genius.”
“Sirius,” Remus said, his voice now sounding more concerned than angry. “Do you know what sort of place Indutus is?”
“It’s a bar,” Sirius said. “And there is dancing and music.” There was silence for a few moments. “Oh,” he said. “Is it, well, one of your bars?”
“Sirius,” Remus said softly. He made a couple of strange sounds. “Well, there is no way to say it,” a few more strange sounds, sounding not unlike Remus being strangled. “Sirius, I’m wearing a dress!”
“Not again,” Sirius said. “They’re dress robes, Moony. They’re perfectly masculine, not that you probably worry much about that, you big poufy-,”
The door had swung open while he had been ranting and he now stopped short, mouth agape. “That’s not a robe,” he said very slowly, his eyes running down to where over a foot of Remus’ pale thigh was on show. “Will Snivellus be - ? Oh, I’m not going if he’ll be all - ! Will I have to - ?”
“You don’t have to come,” Remus said wearily. “But if you want to, what you’re wearing will be fine.”
~
Sirius felt like gagging. It was not so much the smell of the place, although it did smell of stale sweat, or the sight of two rather chubby boys dancing against each other in nothing but miniskirts, even if that was turning his stomach, it was more what was going on across from him.
He knew that he should not say anything. Remus would no doubt roll his eyes and say ‘but we’re only holding hands’, but it was disgusting, it made Sirius’ stomach turn, it made him want to hit Severus Snape so hard he would be seeing out of his arse.
“See something you want, Black?” Snape said with a sneer. Sirius realised he had been staring and almost blushed. Instead, he fixed his eyes on Remus, who seemed to be looking at the ceiling. It must have been very interesting - maybe it was painted.
“You wish, Snape,” Sirius said childishly. He tapped his fingers on the table along with the beat of the music, looking around. He wanted to dance, but there was not a girl to be seen, especially not one of his standards.
“I want to dance,” Remus said, as if echoing his thoughts. Sirius turned around to look at him as he struggled to his feet, teetering on the stupid shoes he had insisted on wearing. Snape did not seem to pay any attention, instead letting his hand fall limply to his side when Remus released it.
“Severus,” Remus said sharply, his amber eyes losing almost all of their familiar warmth. Snape scowled and stood, pulling his coat closed. Sirius realised at that moment that he had something to thank Snape for. He could not even bear to imagine what it would have been like if he had decided to wear something like Remus.
“Sirius?” Sirius looked up blankly. Remus held his free hand out to him, to help him out of his seat. He stared at it for a moment. “Are you coming up to dance?”
“I’m fine,” Sirius said, blinking. “I think I’ll stay here, y’know, look around, get another firewhiskey-,”
Remus had already gone. Sirius sighed and looked down at the empty glass in his hand. The music was so loud it made his head thump strangely. He turned around, telling himself he was looking to find the band, and his eyes settled on Remus.
He looked, well - from such a distance, in the smoke and sweat filled room, he looked like a very attractive woman indeed. That may have just been the alcohol talking though. He was pressed up against Snape, who looked like he would rather be anywhere but there. Sirius rolled his eyes. Snape was such an idiot. Why did he look so upset when he was dancing with that?
Remus moved even closer, if that was possible, slipping one arm around Snape’s shoulders. His face was dangerously close to Snape, their nose almost touching.
The urge to hit Snape returned with a vengeance. Sirius’ knuckles cracked, the glass in his hand shattered. Remus rocked his hips slightly, his skirt riding up. He moved his hips in hypnotising circles, his eyes closed, his lips parted. His other hand snaked around Snape’s waist.
Sirius was not sure when he had made the decision to stand up and move onto the dance floor. He had, only a few second before, been more than content to turn back to the bar and get himself a drink. Now, however, he found himself moving across the dance floor towards Remus, his face set in a scowl.
Remus’ lips were open and dangerously close to Snape’s ear now. Sirius moved closer, he was almost pressed against Remus now. The man beside him winked at Sirius and moved up, pressing himself against Sirius’ thigh.
Snape and Remus were kissing. Sirius felt like he was going to be ill. Snape’s hands were in Remus’ hair and inside his top and all over. Sirius did not know what to do. He pushed the other man aside and pulled at Remus’ arm, trying to free him from Snape’s dementor like embrace.
The two men turned and frowned at him. Remus’ arm fell back to his side and then he turned to Snape. The man scowled deeply, a frown leaving deep creases across his brow, before he turned and stalked from the room.
Sirius felt a feeling of triumphant swelling in his chest. It spread upwards, presenting itself as a broad smile. Then the feeling died. Remus hurried across the room, stumbling in the too-high heels as he moved towards the exit. Sirius sighed and ran after him.
Remus looked up, holding onto the handrail to pull himself back to his feet. His legs shook uncertainly and Sirius sighed, wrapping an arm around his waist.
“What am I going to do?” Remus asked evenly, his arm wrapped tightly around Sirius’ shoulder, as if it were the only thing keeping him there. “You’re meant to tell me it will be alright,” he said, poking Sirius with his free hand. “That what I told you when Hestia left. You’re meant to-.”
“I don’t care what I’m meant to do,” Sirius said strongly, pulling Remus upright again. “I am going to clean you up and then I am going to take you home. I might even make you a cuppa if you’re lucky.”
“Mmm?” Remus said noncommittally. His legs seemed to buckle again. Sirius sighed and spun around, putting an arm behind Remus’ knees so he could swing him up into his arms.
Remus’ head rested on his shoulder. The man sighed softly. His arms comfortably wrapped around Sirius’ neck as they walked back upstairs.
“Now, we’re going to the gents to get you cleaned up,” Sirius said. Remus’ eyes flew open again and he shook his head.
“Sirius do you know what happens in the gents in, well, places like this?” he said, looking awkwardly at the door as Sirius swung it open. Sirius obviously did not, if anything could be judged by the look on his face.
The smaller man pulled down his skirt awkwardly and flushed before he moved into one of the cubicles. Sirius sighed, moving into the only one left free. He set Remus down on the seat and cocked his head to the side.
Remus did look a little worse for wear. He had evidently taken a tumble somewhere. His stockings had a huge ladder in, which showed a rather nasty graze and one side of his face was reddening behind the layer of make-up.
“Sit still,” Sirius said with none of the conviction such an order should carry. He placed a steadying hand on Remus’ knee, crouching before him and summoned a wet towel over the cubicle door. “If there is one thing I know how to do,” he said seriously. “It’s how to look after a lady.”
Remus scowled at him and then closed his eyes as the cloth ran across his wounded cheek. Sirius smiled and hummed slightly to himself as he ran it across one of Remus’ eyes and then the other, before bringing it down to Remus’ rouged lips.
“You know,” Sirius said softly, leaning back on his heels. “You make a pretty nice girl, actually.”
He ran his fingers along Remus’ jaw and then back to his lips. He dragged the wet cloth across Remus’ bruised cheek, cocking his head to the side again. He was getting very close now. He could feel Remus breathe.
Sirius did not know why he kissed him. He just knew that he did.
Sirius had never kissed a man before, but he decided, if they were all like this, then he would have to make a habit of it.
Remus’ lips were as soft as Sirius had imagined. His hands were large and callused and very warm. His cheeks, when they rubbed against Sirius’ were rough with the next morning’s stubble. It was not that much different from kissing a girl, and, at the same time, it was nothing like it at all.
Kissing Remus was rather like wrestling Remus. It started violent and passionate and fun until they finally came to their senses. Then, much like after wrestling, there was a moment of awkwardness where, if they had been rolling on the floor they would have dusted off. Instead they just pulled apart as quickly as they could.
“That’s the face done,” Sirius said awkwardly, resting his head on the back of the door. Remus’ face was flushed and his eyes did not quite meet Sirius’.
“Thank you,” Remus said awkwardly. “For everything. Emmeline is a very lucky girl.”
“Oh,” Sirius said, moving to undo Remus’ shoes. “We broke up last week. So maybe she is.” He pulled the left shoe off and moved to the right, making quick work of the buckle. “And don’t say you’re sorry - please.”
Remus said nothing. His face turned up to the ceiling as he leaned back against the cistern. The wall of the cubicle moved slightly and they both jumped. A strange moan floated around the bathroom and Remus flushed an even darker shade of red.
Sirius moved his hands up to Remus’ thighs. Remus jumped and looked down. His hands grabbed Sirius’ wrists, stilling them where they were, just creeping under his skirt.
“I have to take your stockings off,” Sirius said in way of an explanation. “To see to your knee. I have a salve at the flat, but we need to clean it first.”
“I-,” Remus flushed again, eyes darting back to the cubicle wall, which jumped again. “I’ll get it.” He slipped his hands under the skirt, trying his best to cover whatever he had hidden beneath it. He was not quite at his best, however, so as he unclipped the second stocking, Sirius caught a flash of them.
“Moony,” he muttered. “My word, you kinky bastard.”
Remus flushed and pushed his stockings down over his knees. He winced slightly as they skimmed over the graze on his shin. Sirius sighed and picked up the cloth again, running it across Remus’ warm thighs and over the tender flesh of his knee and then his bleeding shin.
“What have you been doing to yourself?” Sirius asked the air, running the cloth slowly down to Remus’ ankle. Remus’ legs shook slightly. Sirius grasped his ankle tightly in his hand and pulled the stocking over his foot.
He was about to make a comment about the terrible state of his ankles when there was a strange hiccoughing noise from above him. It was almost drowned out by the strange sounds coming from the cubicle beside them, but it was still there.
Sirius looked up and stared. He had never seen Remus’ looking do pained before. In fact, Remus tended not to show pain. He had seen Remus be cut with a silver knife, he had seen Remus almost have his arm pulled away completely, he had seen Remus fall from the top of the Astronomy Tower (although, truth be told, they had been very drunk) but he had never in his life seen Remus look so completely wretched.
“Moony?” he breathed, lifting his face up to catch the light. The man’s eyes were squeezed shut and, as Sirius watched, a tear slipped from under the golden lashes and slid down his cheek.
“Does it hurt than badly?” he asked stupidly, taking his foot once again in his hand and moving the swollen ankle slowly. Remus gave a small, shaky laugh and then shook his head.
“Of course not,” Remus said. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I go through all this and then I give in.”
“You’re not-?” Sirius breathed. Images of Severus Snape forcing him to take the dark mark swam in his mind. He was going to hit that man so hard that-
“I let myself fall in love,” Remus said. “And it was so stupid and now I know I have to let go.”
“With Snivellus?” Sirius asked. Remus turned his face away, his brow furrowed. Sirius sighed and leaned forward, pulling Remus into his arms again. He supposed it was time they went home.
This time Remus did not move, instead hanging like an oversized doll, taking an odd, shaky step whenever his feet rested against the ground.
Sirius hoped he would not be too upset when he realised he had spent the floo ride home clinging to Sirius as if the sky was about to fall upon their heads.
At home, Sirius did not even make a cup of tea. Instead he tucked Remus into bed and then, realising that he would not let go of him soon, climbed into bed beside him.
Of course, Sirius thought, Snivellus would kill him in the morning. Tara might not be too pleased either, if she found out. He supposed Remus might be a little upset, but as long as he forgave him, it would be all right. Besides, Sirius thought, if they knew how comfortable it was in Remus’ arms they would understand.