Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“You got a new shirt.” James said from his chair in the small break room in the back Geno’s Pizza, flipping through his phone while Remus changed out of his apron and t-shirt in the mirror and into dark jeans and a white button-down that he thought made him look, well, okay. At least less pale.

“I got a new…” Remus looked through to the restaurant, as if anyone could hear him over the music and chatter, “client.”

James sighs, “I hate your job.”

Remus let out a short laugh, “Then give me the other half of my rent.”

James slipped his phone back into his apron pocket, leaning his elbows on his knees and looking at Remus in the mirror, “My parents could.”

“For the last time, no, James.”

James rolls his eyes, like he always does, “This new guy. What do you know about him?”

“I know his name. I know he wants to meet me in a suite of a very fancy hotel.”

James raised his eyebrows, “And…”

“And so he’ll tip well for my troubles.” He shot James a rye grin in the mirror.

“Remus.”

“I have to go, okay? It’s fine.” He picked up his jacket, swinging it over his shoulders. He’d make sure to have it off when he went in. It was far too ratty to match the rest of his splurged outfit. Not splurge, he reminded himself. Necessity. These clothes ended up smelling like ten different colognes by the end of the month. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to think of them as a treat for himself. He sends James one more half-smile, “I’ll see you Monday. Double shift, right?”

James sighed, standing to get back on the floor, “Duh.”

~

The hotel lobby was more crystal than anything else, and the lights shimmered off every marble and gem-like surface available—which was a lot. Remus felt out of place and like everyone knew it, but he put on his well practiced smile and slid out of his jacket. He held it out of view as he approached the desk.

“Hello, sir, how can I help you?”

“I’m here to meet a Mr. Sirius Black,” Had to be a fake name, Remus thought. Had to be. “Suite twelve.”

The woman straightened immediately, “Of course, sir. Mr. Black had told us to expect someone. Please go right up those elevators there, sir.”

Remus wanted to laugh at how many times she had called him ‘sir,’ but instead he nodded swift thanks and walked to the elevators. His dress shoes were too small and, if there was one thing good about his job, it was that he never had to wear them for too long.

Even the elevator was shiny.

He knocked twice on the white, ornate suite door. The number twelve was golden, and Remus could see part of his eye in the fatter part of the two. He looked away, blinked, and then the door was open.

Sirius Black was not his usual client. Remus almost checked the room number. Sirius Black was not in his forties, he didn’t have salt and pepper hair. Nor was he an insecure boy around Remus’ age who, really, didn’t want sex, but more someone to talk to. Sirius Black had a dark blue shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders, bright, long-lashed gray eyes and full lips. He had blue-black hair the curled around his ears and brushed over his forehead. He was tanned, like he spent time in sunny places. His watch probably cost more than Remus’ entire life, his smile was bright, and he held his hand out to shake Remus’.

“Hi, Remus, yes?”

Sirius Black had an accent. Thick, and buttery. Remus was still too taken aback to place it.

“Oh. I mean, yes, hello, Mr. Black.”

Mr. Black pulled a face, nose scrunching along side his warm smile, “No, no, Sirius. Please. Come in?”

Remus flashed him a smile of his own, “Thank you.”

“I take your coat?”

“Oh.” Remus looked down at the fabric in his arms, “Oh, I—“

But Sirius’ hands—large, Remus’ brain thought automatically—were already gently pulling it from his grasp and hanging it in the hall closet. Remus flushed a little and pulled at his shirt, suddenly feeling like his cover had been blown, “Thank you.”

Remus catches a flash of a golden chain as Sirius turns back towards him from beneath the opened collar of his shirt, “Hey, can I get you drink? Hungry? Order anything from room service. I’m have here before.” His grin is lopsided, “Know is good.”

“Whatever you want.” Remus raises one shoulder, his autopilot, kicking in, “This is your night, Sirius.”

Sirius’ smile falters a little at that, and Remus takes it as the cue that it is. He knows some guys like to ease into things like this isn’t a transaction, “We could check out the bar. A room like this, it’s got to have a nice one.”

Sirius nods enthusiastically, “Yes, big.” He brushes past Remus, and Remus sucks in a little breath about how he practically looms over him, “Good stuff, I show. You like vodka?”

“Ah. Yeah.” Remus nods, “Whatever you want.”

He follows Sirius into the main room and nearly laughs. Everything is pristine, but he’s surprised at how comfortable the room feels. The bed is huge and strewn with pillows, creme and light grays. There’s a large TV, a similarly colored sofa, and, in fact, a bar.

“You don’t like.”

Remus stands next to Sirius, looking somewhat lost at the many bottles, “Vodka is fine.”

Sirius tilts his head, eyebrows creasing with disbelieve, “Remus, you tell me. Want you have good time. Come on.”

Remus hums, “Well, honestly, I really don’t drink much.” The truth is he tries not to waste money. Alcohol is included in that category.

Sirius nods, “Okay, we forget. Don’t worry. I…” Sirius turns his back to the bar, leaning against it, “I’m a little bit not good at this, I, ah, you know? Not do this…before.”

Remus goes to respond but Sirius beats him to it, running a hand over his face, “And—And I know, my English…not so good, sorry.”

Remus shakes his hand, not being able to help the soft smile that crosses his face, “Hey, no, it’s fine. This is…you know.” He mirrors Sirius’ position then pushes himself up to sit on the counter, “What’s your first language?”

Sirius rubs his palm against the back of his neck, “Russian. From Russia. Come England because business take off.”

Remus nods, “I’ve never been. I know, da?”

Sirius’ face lights up so Remus figures he’s done something right, “Da, yes.” He raises an eyebrow, “Easy one.”

Remus snorts, “Well, yeah.” Remus pushes his hair off of his forehead, “Maybe you can teach me something.” He reaches out, curling his fingertips around the closer cuff of Sirius’ shirt, “Da?”

Sirius’ teeth dig into his lower lip. He pushes off the counter, crowding Remus’ space, “Если вы хотите учиться, я могу научить.”

“Huh.” Remus says, suddenly feeling just a little less steady. He has a brief, startling flash of arousal, of excitement. For a second this felt real. Like maybe he’s just happened to meet Sirius. The reality is all the more painful when it sets back in, but he keeps the coy smile on his face, “Might need a few baby steps, first.” He loops his arms around Sirius’ neck, and finds himself leaning towards the kiss anyway.

Sirius’ mouth is sure and warm. He kisses like each stroke of tongue and lip are one in a long line of steps designed to take Remus apart. It makes Remus let out a little breath. He’s used to being the more skilled one, but he gives back as good as he gets if the soft sound in the back of Sirius’ throat is anything to go by. Remus palms the smooth muscles that run from Sirius’ neck to his broad shoulders and runs into the chain. He follows it down, metal warmed by Sirius’ skin, until he’s dislodged it from beneath Sirius’ shirt. He fingers the ring there.

Married. He sighs into Sirius’ mouth and passes it off as pleasure by pairing it with a squeeze to his shoulders.

“Bed?” Sirius mumbles.

Remus nods and is promptly unseated, the cool marble replaced by palms, “Oh.” Remus can’t help the little laugh that escapes and hooks his ankles around Sirius’ hips.

Sirius grins, nipping lightly on Remus’ lip, “This good?”

Remus directs their mouths together again in answer and locks his legs more firmly when Sirius tries to deposit him on the bed, instead bringing him with him.

“Too much clothes, yeah? I’m think I want to see more.”

“Mm. Better do something about it.”

They stripped off their clothing relatively slowly compared to Remus’ other clients. Sirius undid Remus’ buttoned shirt with careful fingers, stroking down his sides as he peeled it away. Remus ran briefly into trouble with Sirius’ cufflinks—dark, glittering stones that Remus took the time to place on the nightstand.

“So careful.” Sirius had said, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip as he smiled, leaning on his elbows above Remus.

Remus pulled him down for a kiss instead, and they stayed like that for a while before Remus’ hand wandered down to feel Sirius where he was hard in his boxers.

“What do you like?”

They both started, breaking their sloppy kiss to look at each other.

Sirius smiled, looking delighted that they had spoken together, “I’m ask you first.”

Remus squeezed his palm, reveling a little in the way Sirius’ mouth drops open, “I asked you.” He squeezes again, thumb hooking over the elastic band, and Sirius sucks a breath in through his teeth, “Tell me.” He traces the shape of Sirius, hot even through the fabric, and leans up to mirror the action with his tongue against Sirius’ jaw, “Sirius.”

“Yeah.” Sirius sighs out, “Okay, yeah.”

Remus falls into a sort of a bubble after that and they don’t talk much. They sort of just follow each other. Sirius’ hips slot against Remus’ and his hands mostly just find Remus’ hair and the dips between his ribs. Remus finds himself chasing Sirius’ mouth every time it leaves his, only to fall back into the pillows when it finds his skin again.

All in all, Remus feels a little swept off kilter. After, they lay side by side.

“Hey.”

Remus presses his lips together in a smile. He likes how Sirius starts sentences with that. Likes how soft the ‘h’ is in his mouth. Remus turns his head, “Hi.”

“Was good?” Sirius’ grin is goofy and warm as he props his head up on one elbow, “I like.” Then he narrows his eyes but it loses all effect because he’s still smiling, “Tell truth.”

Remus rolls into his side too, “What, you couldn’t tell? Yes, it was good.” He reaches out again and touches Sirius’ necklace, hooking his finger in it, “I liked it, too.” He liked how Sirius pressed their entire bodies together. At one point he had pressed his entire chest to the length of Remus’ back and Remus had done everything in his power to keep his knees from giving away. Not from the sex, necessarily, but just because it felt nice to be covered like that.

Sirius nods at the necklace, “Mama give to me before I leave. Have Russia…ah.”

Remus waits for him to sort out what he wants to say in his head.

“Well. Looks like Russian. Remind? Look.” He puts his fingers over Remus’ and tilts the ring until Remus can see the small eagle, wings spread, engraved there.

“Oh, a flag.” He mimics a waving motion, “Flag.”

Sirius’ eyes light up, “Flag, yes. Maybe she hope it remind me of home.” He looks a little wistfully at it, “It work.”

Not married Remus thinks.

“Hey,” Sirius is suddenly turning away, reaching for something on his bedside table. He gives Remus a lovely view of his strong back, the stretch of his shoulders and the curve of his ass. He’s got a constellation of four dark freckles across his wing bones. Remus almost reaches out to touch them. Sirius returns with a tiny hotel pencil and one of the breakfast menus that hook over the door, “What do you want for breakfast tomorrow?”

Remus blinks, “Oh. You don’t have to do that.” He has a granola bar, it’s fine.

“No, no, I want to.” Sirius nudges a little closer and Remus can’t help but curl into the warmth, just a little, “I’m have, ah…eggs, toast, to the side of bacon.” His nose scrunches, “I say wrong.”

“A side of bacon. Close though, they would have understood.”

Sirius’ nose stays scrunched and he sighs, looking over Remus’ face, “You nice about English. Very nice. Some people not so good.”

Remus shrugs his free shoulder, “Well, then tell them to try speaking Russian.”

Sirius laughs, “I will. Good.” He holds his small pencil to the paper, “But breakfast, Remus. Really. We work very hard just now, you be hungry. Maybe we go again.”

Sirius’ smile is playful, his skin is warm and, honestly, Remus would.

Remus sighs and uses looking at the menu as an excuse to get closer. Sirius did pay for the entire night, so if he is really offering, “I’ll have the pancakes.”

“Banana? Chocolate chip?”

“Chocolate.”

Sirius turns, eyebrow raised, “Sweet tooth?”

Remus smiles, “You know sweet tooth and not flag?”

“Friend’s kid teach me. Cute baby. Like sweets.”

Remus hums.

“Tea or coffee?”

“Are you having any?”

“Remus, not matter.” Sirius sighs when Remus keeps looking at him, “I’m have tea, now which you want?”

“Tea.”

“You say because I say, or you like, really?”

Remus huffs out a laugh, “I really like.”

“Think you like sugar in tea, too.”

Well. He’s not wrong.

Sirius fills out the form and then wanders over to hang it outside the door—naked. Remus reaches to pull the sheet up to his chest. He likes Sirius’ confidence, but that doesn’t mean he completely shares it. He knows he has a nice body, but he flaunts it enough for his liking.

“Okay, all ready.” Sirius stretches obscenely, thighs pressed to the end of the bed for support. Remus bites his lip and looks because Sirius must want him to, “You want shower?”

Remus blinks in surprise. Honest, cool, surprise. It really is usually a fuck-and-sleep thing with him and to be offered a shower—not to mention breakfast—is…well, Sirius had said he’d never done this before. But if he’s offering. This place definitely has endless amounts of piping hot water.

“Sure, that sounds really nice, actually.”

Sirius nods and motions to the bathroom before flopping back onto the bed and reaching for the remote.

And Remus isn’t really sure what to make of that. He slowly stands and makes it all the way to the doorway before turning, “Are you…coming?”

Sirius had sprawled back against the pillows but pushes himself up on his elbows, hair messy and curling in his eyes, “You want?”

Remus can’t help but laugh again, “Sirius, this is about what you want. I—I don’t know, you said shower and I assumed…” He assumed Sirius wanted to fuck in the shower next.

Sirius sits up a little more and Remus watches him twitch with interest, feeling himself do the same, heat pooling in his stomach.

“I’m come.” He doesn’t bother turning the television off and follows Remus into the bathroom. Remus is turning the shower on when Sirius is suddenly warm against his back, cheek on his shoulder.

“Cold floor.” Is the only explanation Sirius gives.

Remus shivers, but the floor really isn’t that cold. The hot water feels good anyway and when Sirius ushers Remus beneath the spray he can’t help but close his eyes for a minute at the pressure. He hasn’t had a good shower since the last time he saw his parents. It’s been a while. He jumps a little when he feels Sirius’ mouth against his jaw and remembers where he is, what he’s being payed to do. He reaches forward and cups the back of Sirius’ neck, he licks into his mouth. Sirius mumbles something and then Remus’ back is against the cool glass of the shower wall but he’s warm. His entire body feels sparked by Sirius’ mouth and he breathes through a gasp as Sirius fingers dig into his hip, then inward, trailing a thumb just beneath where he’s hard.

“Nice.” Sirius breathes. The heel of his palm presses down, pushing Remus’ erection up against his stomach, “I’m think maybe…” He gets down on his knees, one at a time so he doesn’t slip, and looks up at Remus questioningly as if Remus could say anything other than—“Yes?”

Remus lets out a long breath, “I—Yeah. Yeah, if that’s what you want?” And then he can’t help it but add, “Please” but regrets it the second its out of his mouth. Maybe Sirius likes this though, maybe—

“Shh.” Sirius leans forward and licks a long, flat stripe on Remus’ dick, “I’m take care.”

So, he does like it.

Sirius breaths in and then swallows Remus whole. Remus has to let his head fall back against the shower wall because this hasn’t happened in he doesn’t know how long. His hands feel a little shaky and he blindly reaches for Sirius’ hair, Sirius who has yet to pull off and is subjecting Remus to relenting, tight heat.

“Fuck.” Remus lets out, and he curls one palm around the back of Sirius’ head, urging him on as he starts to make these clean, slow, sucks, “Sirius, I’m not going to…I mean, if you want to do anything else—”

Sirius only responds by wrapping his arms around Remus’ hips and pinning him to the wall. Remus could probably thrust towards him now if he really tried but he can’t find the strength, not with Sirius’ other hand lightly stroking his thighs. He stupidly thinks maybe Sirius didn’t quite get it.

“I’m gonna come, fuck, fuck, Sirius—“

Sirius hums, he understands, and it sends Remus right over the edge. His orgasm hits him when Sirius brings one hand to squeeze the base of Remus’ dick and the other to his balls. A second later Sirius makes a broken sound around the sensitive head that he’s suckling at and Remus feels something hot streak his legs. Fuck.

“Did you just—did you…” Both of Sirius’ hands were definitely otherwise occupied and that means—

Sirius pulls off and looks up at him, lips red and parted obscenely. His eyes are hooded and bright, cock slowly softening between his thighs, untouched, “I like.” He says simply.

Remus’ cock gives a last twitch that’s an almost painful effort at coming again.

One side of Sirius’ mouth lifts, “You like.”

“I—Yeah.” Remus sighs out.

Sirius pushes himself up and Remus thinks he’s leaning in for a kiss when he holds up a tiny bottle of expensive looking shampoo. Remus wonders if he could get away with keeping one of those.

“Close eyes.” Sirius says softly.

Remus does. Sirius’ hands are in his hair a few second later which, honestly, is probably still clean, they didn’t sweat that much, but Remus leans into the touch—especially when Sirius’ large palms wipe carefully over his forehead and temples, ridding them of suds.

“Soft hair.”

Remus smiles despite himself. There’s a little ping in his chest. Sirius doesn’t have to compliment him. Maybe he’s hoping Remus will lower the price.

“Like…ah, карамель? Sweet, you should know.”

Remus cracks one eye open, “Caramel?”

“Da.” Sirius murmurs, “Caramel.” Sirius’ “c” sound like his “h,” soft and sweet.

The next morning, Remus can barely wake up. Which, in consequence, startles him awake.

“Whoa, hey, hey.” Sirius quickly withdraws his hand where it had been softly shaking Remus’ shoulder, “Okay?” He looks concerned. He has a long-sleeved shirt on and what look like… leggings? “It’s just breakfast. Thought I let you sleep until it come.”

“I—you didn’t have to. What time is it? I’m sorry.” It all comes out at once and Remus feels slightly exposed now that Sirius has put clothes on. This feels like some strange one-night stand, not a pick up.

Sirius hands him a sweatshirt—one of his sweatshirts—and Remus takes it slowly but gratefully. He pulls his own boxers on, too.

“Don’t worry.” Sirius waves his hand as he makes his way back into the main room of the suite—presumably where the food is, “I’m want you rest, is fine. Food good, I’m already try!”

Remus blinks the sleep slowly out of his eyes for a moment before throwing the covers back and following Sirius, “I—have you been, like, to the gym?” The leggings and the wet curls of hair around Sirius’ ears should be a give away but who knows.

“No, no, I’m just shower. Like in morning. Feel nice.” He looks up over his steaming plate of eggs, “You can if want.”

Sirius doesn’t say anything about the leggings, and Remus isn’t sure if he’s telling him he can go to the gym or take a shower. He pushes a hand through his hair and shakes his head, “It’s okay.” He sits down across from Sirius and is only then, staring at the frankly huge stack of pancakes in front of him that he realizes he’s starving. He cuts himself a huge bite from all four of his stack and tries to be at least somewhat graceful about shoving it into his mouth.

He looks up at the snort that comes from across the table.

“You need eat more. I’m notice. Finish plate.”

Coming from someone else, Remus thinks he would have called it rude, but from Sirius it just makes him smile sheepishly. He crosses his legs and accepts the cup of tea Sirius holds out to him. Sirius then holds out the cup of sugar cubes and Remus laughs and rolls his eyes but takes two brown ones.

“I’m knew!” Sirius sips his own tea which looks completely black and very strong. Remus shutters internally at how bitter that must be. Sirius’ smile is lopsided when he looks at him over the rim, “милый.”

Remus raises his eyebrow.

“Sweet.” Sirius keeps what kind of sweet to himself.

“I, um.” Remus takes another sip of tea, “I can go whenever you need me to. I just want to remind you how long you paid for, I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of anything that isn’t…” bought.

Sirius nods, like this is a usual conversation to have the morning after, “I’m have meeting this morning, but room paid for whole day, only way they give me late check out. Stay, if you want.” Sirius grins, “Hang out.”

He says it like he’s proud to know that phrase. A laugh bubbles up warmly from Remus’ chest, “I—Really? That’s…That’s really nice, Sirius, are you sure—“

“Yeah, yeah, most sure. Order room service, lunch, dinner. Yeah?”

And that’s how Remus ends up in a hotel room that is much to large for just one person with a club sandwich and the sun setting outside his window. It’s nice. But it feels strange.

“So…” James’ voice says on his cellphone, “You’re still there?”

Remus pops a fry into his mouth, “Yeah. He told me I could.”

“So, he’s your sugar daddy.”

“What? No. He had to. Or, he said he had to.” Remus groans and flops back onto the mattress, “I know, yeah, you’re right, this is weird.”

“It’s…No. Well, yeah.” James laughs, “I still don’t fucking like your job.”

“One job.”

James scoffs, “Yeah, one of three, like that makes it better. Remus.”

“I—he’s Russian.”

“Okay?”

“He has—He has a nice accent.”

“I—Isn’t there some kind of code against liking—“

“I don’t like him.”

“You like your hotel room?”

“No. Yes. He’s—He offered me breakfast and, and stuff.”

“Don’t tell me what stuff is.”

“No—James.” Remus laughs despite himself, “Like a shower.” He doesn’t tell James the rest of that shower, “I don’t—It isn’t usually like that.”

“So, he paid you in breakfast?”

“No, what? No. Will you stop being difficult?”

He hears James sighs, “What do you want me to say? Honestly, I have no idea.”

“I don’t know…Maybe—“

“Remus?”

Remus sits up on the bed, “Oh my god.”

James’ voice crackles in his ear, “No shit, is that him? Did he come back—“

Remus hangs up on him, “Um. Um, yeah?” He realizes he’s still in Sirius’ sweatshirt. And just his boxers, “I—bedroom.”

Sirius’ head pokes through the doorway and he grins, “Hope you still here. Hi.” Remus follows the glint of his necklace from the low sun as he crosses the room to sit on the edge of the bed, “Can I have fry?”

Remus blinks at him, “Sure. What are you—I can leave.”

Suddenly Sirius looks sheepish, “No, no, of course not. Some stuff get—moved. In town tonight, had to move flight.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

Sirius raises one shoulder and sighs as he undoes his tie, “No real problem.” He pulls his tie free of his collar and fiddles with it, “Ah. I’m think maybe…”

And then he’s holding out a bunch of neatly folded bills.

He smiles, “Is okay to ask two nights?”

Remus smiles because what else is there to do? Because that’s another month’s rent even though for a moment Remus thought Sirius was about to ask him…maybe to dinner. Maybe to see him sometime.

“Yeah, of course.” He takes the money, “I’d love that.”

Chapter Text

Remus sits in Lily and James’ tiny living room and tries to ignore the subtly laid out pillow and blankets set on the corner of the couch. Lily doesn’t let him.

“Your apartment has flees.”

Remus sets his glass down, “That was one bug and it was a beetle.”

Lily twists her hair over one shoulder, unrelenting, “Remus. Please.” She nods towards the pillow, “Just—I’m worried. We’re worried.”

Remus looks away so he doesn’t have to see the way James nods, they way they’re both looking at him like he’s already a lost cause. He wishes for a moment he’d never told them what he does other than serve pizza and take the early shifts at the gas station around the block, but then he’d be all alone in it. And they were his best friends, that was why he had told them. Just in case one day all of James’ fears came true and some guy murdered Remus in a hotel room. Or something.

James sighs, “Mate, we’re not ganging up on you.”

“No, I know.” Remus nods down at his mug of tea, “I know. I just…I don’t want to be that friend you can’t get rid of. Like. That would be awful.”

“Re, you’re never going to become that.” Lily puts a warm hand on his shoulder, squeezing, “That’s not how we think about it at all. We just want to know your safe.”

James raises his mug to his mouth, “As safe as you can be…”

“James.” Lily snips, then her face turns soft again for Remus, “Will you stay here?”

“Lils, really, my apartment is fine.” He curls his feet further beneath him, “I’ll finish my tea and go. Don’t worry.”

He thinks back to his two night hotel escapade and shakes his head more firmly at Lily. He already feels enough like a charity case as it is. Even if he did get good money for it. Sirius had pushed an extra eighty dollars into his hand at the door and closed it before Remus could protest. He had pressed a chapped kiss to his cheek too. Remus was still mulling that over.

When he finally does make it out of the apartment he pulls his ratty coat tightly over his shoulders and ducks his head against the wind. He could probably buy a new one if Sirius called again. He did ask for two nights in a row, and it went great so, maybe. But he didn’t want to be flashy about any new money. His landlord had already raised his eyebrows when Remus had handed over two months rent in advanced.

His apartment wasn’t flea infested although it did give off that sort of look. He had a cheep futon bed frame, just to keep his mattress off the floor so it didn’t mold, and a dresser from IKEA. His kitchen consisted of a stove and a sink. The gas was usually pretty iffy and his sink ran mostly cold, like his shower, but…he had a roof and food. It’s fine. He has James and Lily if he was really, really in trouble but he doesn’t want it to come to that. He’ll never want it to come to that.

He throws his keys down on the dresser and goes to check the leak under the sink. It hasn’t gotten worse but he empties out what water is in the bucket just while he’s there. He re-tapes the crack in the window and makes a note to ask his landlord about that. Again. He’s just sitting down on his bed when his phone rings. He groans and closes his eyes when he pulls it out, hoping it isn’t one of his less polite customers. He sighs in relief when he sees the name.

“Frank, hi.” Frank almost never wants sex. He likes to talk. He’s lonely. Remus can relate. He’s the son of two wealth-soaked parents who don’t pay him a lick of attention. Remus can half relate. “How are you, mate?”

“Oh. Hi, Remus. Wasn’t sure I’d get you, um. I’m fine. I—um. Was wondering…” He trails off.

“Sure, when were you thinking? I’ve got something Tuesday and Sunday and you know when I work, so…”

“Actually, I was thinking now?” His voice is up an entire octave with nerves, “I just…Family problems right now. Was hoping to just talk a bit.”

Remus runs a hand over his face but tries not to pause too long. He doesn’t want Frank to think he doesn’t want to, “Sounds great! Should I meet you at the—“

“I couldn’t get the usual room. It’s 207 tonight. Same hotel though, the Pierre.”

Remus nods, tries to keep a smile in his voice, “Great. See you soon.”

He’s barely hung up when another name flashes up at him. He’s almost embarrassed by how fast he answers, “Sirius. Hi.” That didn’t come out anywhere close to how he wanted it to.

“Remus! Life is good?”

Remus laughs lightly, still caught off guard but warmed by Sirius’ simple honesty, “Uh, yeah, life is good. How are you?”

“Good. Busy. Always busy, you know? I’m at airport now, going to be in town on Wednesday. You want see together? Or, ah, not together.”

“Each other.” Remus supplies.

“Yes, perfect. You always know. What you think, Remus?”

Remus half wishes Sirius would stop saying his name like that and half wishes he’ll never stop saying his name like that, “Yeah, that works for me. What time were you thinking?”

“Seven? I get us dinner in room, so don’t eat. I’m, ah…” Sirius lets out a soft laugh and Remus presses the speaker closer to his ear, “I’m think about you a lot.”

Remus swallows over a suddenly dry throat, “Yeah?”

“Hm.” There’s a loud speaker in the background and Sirius says something low in Russian, “Flight calling me. Wednesday okay, yes?”

“Yes. Have a good flight.”

“You too. Or—“ They both laugh, “Okay, I’m go now. Bye, Remus.”

The line goes dead and Remus lets the phone fall to the bed. He breathes in deeply and looks down. He’s half hard in his pants now and he really doesn’t know why. He’s suppose to be on his way to Frank’s, he tips well, he honestly needs Remus a little bit and…fuck. He splashes some freezing water on his face from the sink and yanks his door shut as he leaves.

Frank’s is fine. The hotel room is nice and Remus ends up sucking him off—twice. He doesn’t get hard either time but Frank seems either completely fine with that or he doesn’t notice. What does get him going is the ping he gets on his phone while he’s walking home from the tube. It’s a picture. Of Sirius. A selfie. He’s grinning in front of a beautiful sunset outside a plane window. There’s no message except a few sideways parentheses that Remus takes as smiles. Looking at the grin triggers thinking about Sirius’ large, warm hands on his hips and back. That leads to thinking about the way Sirius had carefully pushed his fingers inside of Remus, then the hot slide of his cock to replace them, his weight covering Remus’ back—

By the time Remus is walking up the stairs to his apartment again he’s more or less waddling around his tented trousers. By the time he’s throwing his keys on his dresser all he can do is lean back against his door and shove his hand into his boxers. They’re already damp with pre-come so what’s the point anyway? He smears his thumb over his head and squeezes the base, letting out a breath. It’s not as good as Sirius and his fucking huge palms. Now that he’s got a hand wrapped around himself he can really feel the difference. He pushes his pants down around his knees so he can get two hands around himself instead, twisting around the head and keeping a tight grip around the shaft. It barely takes a dozen pulls before he’s shooting into his fist with a harsh sound, Sirius’ name almost on his lips. Almost. He makes the mistake of thinking about the way Sirius had trailed his fingertips over his sensitive cock after he’d made Remus come in his mouth, keeping the pleasurable nerves alight, and takes a cold shower so he doesn’t have to go again. The shower only makes him think about how, next time, maybe Sirius won’t come untouched. Maybe Remus will get to return the favor. He doesn’t even know how much of Sirius he could fit in his mouth but fuck if he doesn’t want to try. He groans and wraps a hand around himself again. He’s too sensitive but he doesn’t care. He works himself fast and hard until his cock is a flushed red and he comes weakly against the shower wall, panting into the cool spray.

He looks at his phone as he towels off his hair. It’s Saturday, and it’s going to be a long couple days.

~

There’s a different woman at the front desk this time and Remus is glad. Not that he thinks the other one would remember him but, still. He stares at the twelve on the door for a moment, trying to calm his heart rate, before he knocks.

The door doesn’t open immediately so he knocks again, feeling more awkward by the second.

This time there’s a muffled shout and a few seconds later the door is yanked open by Sirius—dripping wet and a towel hastily wrapped around his waist.

“Sorry!” He gasps, “Sorry, flight late, felt kind of like plane—plane all over me? Thought I be fast, sorry.”

“Okay.” Remus meant to say it’s okay but, well, Sirius’ towel is slipping sort of low.

“Come in, come in, I’m be ready in minute.”

Ready for what? Remus wants to ask.

He goes to sit on one of the couches and strokes his hands over a soft pillows while Sirius pads back to the shower, dropping his towel without closing the door. For a second, Remus debates on whether he can consider that as an invitation or not. He stands up twice and sits back down before the water shuts off and he sits again. Sirius emerges a second later, grabbing the towel from the floor to wrap around his waist and another for his hair. He rubs at his hair until the waves fluff around his ears and into his eyes. He smiles over at Remus somewhat guiltily.

“Sorry again. You want look at menu?” Sirius flips open a sleek looking suitcase and starts rifling through it, “Starving. Airplane food most bad, you know?”

Remus doesn’t but he’s not about to start that conversation. Instead he reaches for the leather-bound hotel book, “Where did you come from?”

“Sydney, ah…Hard for me to say.”

“Australia.”

Sirius laughs and pulls a loose fitting pair of sweatpants on—bare, “Yes, right.” A white long sleeve shirt follows and—to Remus’ surprised delight—a black snapback. It sits snugly on his damp hair, pushing the front part back out of his eyes while the rest wings out above his ears. Remus can see the shape of his ring necklace through his shirt. He swallows. Sirius looks good.

He pulls some warm looking socks on and Remus glances briefly at the hole in the heel on his own left foot. The couch bounces a little as Sirius settles next to him, leaning in close to look at the menu, “Good food? What you like?”

Remus tries to read the menu, he really does, but Sirius’ arm is thrown over the back of the couch and his fingertips are brushing over where he sweater gives way to skin. He holds the menu out to Sirius, “You decide. I’ll eat anything.”

Sirius gives him a teasingly disapproving look but takes the menu and reaches towards the side table for the phone. He orders too much. A steak, fries, a plate of brisket ravioli, a cheese board, a salad, calamari, and two slices of chocolate cake. Remus doesn’t know where they’re going to put it all, but he hopes maybe he can take some of it home.

“We do tea later,” Sirius reaches out and fans one of Remus’ curls between his fingers. “After.” He amends, “They say thirty minutes.” Then his fingers are lightly brushing Remus’ hip, just beneath his sweater, “We stay busy while wait. Is okay?”

“Yeah.” Remus breathes, because what Sirius doesn’t know is that he got off to the mere memories of what they did last time every night leading up to now. Sometimes twice. Of course it’s okay. He’s never had a job this fucking okay, and he’ll damn sure make the most of it until Sirius moves on. They always do. Remus usually feels more grateful when they do, but he has a feeling Sirius will be different.

Sirius flashes him a grin and tugs him right into his lap. His lips are warm and chapped against Remus’, but the rough texture is nice. Remus feels like it keeps him there, in Sirius’ arms. He runs his tongue across Sirius’ bottom lip just to feel it and is rewarded with a soft sound and a palm to the small of his back. Sirius, who seems to be able to take Remus aback in almost everything he does, is holding Remus close, chest to chest. Not by the hips, not by the shoulders. Remus has never had any problems with abuse and he’s lucky in that way but Sirius, Sirius isn’t holding him like he’s there for sex at all. He’s cradling Remus in his lap, hands running lazily up and down his back. He’s licking into his mouth like they have all the time in the world, like they’ve been kissing forever and they’ll do it tomorrow, and tomorrow.

Remus’ palms cup his jaw and he runs his fingers along the edge of the snapback.

“You want off?” Sirius’ voice sounds like he’s just woken up.

Remus shakes his head and his eyes slip closed as Sirius’ mouth moves to his jaw, “No.”

Sirius’ warm breath against his neck as he laughs softly almost feels better than the wet kisses he’s leaving there. Almost.

They stay like that until the knock on the door makes Remus blink his eyes open blearily, suddenly aware of how warm he is.

Sirius shifts him to the side gently, kneeling on the couch for one last peck, “I’m get food, relax here.”

Remus blinks at him, licks his kiss-swollen lips, and honestly just wants to ask Sirius why he is like this. He rests his head back on the couch and listens to Sirius’ bright voice chatting away to the bell boy who brought their food. He’s thanking him, telling him how good it all looks, and Remus thinks maybe he’s just this nice to everyone he meets. He isn’t sure what to do with that.

“Hey,” Sirius head pokes back through the door, cart trailing him, “Food.”

Remus isn’t going to say no to that.

The spread of food looks even bigger when laid out and Remus can’t help but laugh as Sirus sits down next to him again, “Sirius, this is…a lot.”

Sirius shrugs one shoulder, “We don’t finish, you take home.”

Remus isn’t going to say no to that, either. He has a brief moment of wondering whether ordering this much was purposeful on Sirius’ part, but pushes it aside. That’s ridiculous. Sirius doesn’t even know him, much less anything about his financial situation. Well. He might know a little given who they are to each other.

Remus spends most of the meal listening to Sirius try to explain some funny story that happened on his trip, and anticipating the occasional moments of being fed bits of steak and such by Sirius, who barely breaks in talking despite how it takes Remus’ breath for a moment.

“I spend lot of time in hotel, you know?” Sirius’ voice breaks into Remus’ thoughts, mid story. He wished he’d been listening fully to know how to respond.

“I, ah, lonely?”

Sirius shrugs, but shoves a large scoop of pasta in his mouth. Remus takes that as a yes.

“How did you…” Remus searches for the right word before trying, “find me?”

Sirius actually pinks a little at that, “Ah. Friend. You know him. Recommend. Say you very sweet.”

Remus nods and respects the anonymity even if he’s dying to know who, “Sweet, huh?”

Sirius smiles a little, “I’m think so, too.”

They move onto the cake and the hotel had sent up an two extra desserts, seemingly just because Sirius is Sirius.

“I’m stay here lot, they know me.”

“Probably because you order the entire menu anyway.” Remus jokes.

It makes Sirius’ entire face light up, spreading his hands, “Hey, why not? Hungry after long day of flying.” He knocks his ankle against Remus’, “Good food, best company.”

Remus rolls his eyes a little and Sirius snorts. That shouldn’t be attractive, but it is.

“You live here always?” Sirius asks through a bite of cheesecake, “London?”

“Yeah, always.”

“Born here?”

Remus nods, “Yeah. I live a few streets over from my parent’s flat.”

“Must be so nice.” Sirius is smiling, but his eyes are down at his plate and he looks a little mournful. His fingertips not holding his fork are twisting the ring around his neck, “Be near family always.”

Remus takes a bite instead of answering. It had been nice. For a while.

“Not…Not nice?” Sirius says softly, “Sorry, not want to bring up bad things, Remus—“

“No. No, it’s okay. It’s fine, I just…yeah, I don’t really talk to my parents much these days.”

Sirius places a warm hand on his thigh, thumb rubbing on the inside slowly. But it isn’t sexual. It isn’t even verging on sexual. It’s soothing and warm, and it makes Remus want to keep talking.

“Not since I came out.” He finally manages, “To them. They weren’t…” But it turns out that’s all he can say on the matter.

“Make you feel better…” Sirius wets his lips, “Parents not know. Mine, I’m saying. Scared to tell, not good thing in Russia.” He gives Remus’ thigh a little squeeze, “I understand. Remus, it’s—it’s most brave.”

Remus blinks hard, “Yeah.” He doesn’t know why he’s sitting here having this semi-melt down with Sirius. Sirius definitely isn’t paying for this. He’s probably annoyed with him under all his kind words and so Remus snuffles and digs his palms into his eyes, trying to wipe the tears away and the redness that’s probably there both. There’s nothing really to do to make this not an awkward transition. How do you go from tears to sex? And with a stranger? “I’m sorry.” He begins, “Fuck, this—was not what I had planned.”

“Remus, it’s not apology—no, okay?” He’s suddenly pushing the food table away and tucking his legs beneath himself, sitting on his socked-heels and taking both of Remus’ hands, thumbs rubbing gently against the vulnerable insides of Remus’ wrists, “I’m not mind, really. Really.”

“I’ll take this out of your pay. Honestly, Sirius, this isn’t what you brought me here for, I just want you to know that I know that.” Remus can’t help it though, and despite his words curls his fingers around Sirius’, “Sorry."

“Please stop saying, Remus.” Sirius tone is firm, “Please, you—not an apology.” Even the word ‘apology’ sounds nice in Sirius’ mouth.

“I…make okay? A bit?” Sirius tugs very lightly on Remus’ hands but when Remus shakes his head he—he lets go. Which Remus can’t decide how he feels about that.

“Sorry.” He says again, then at Sirius’ face, he pushes a hand through his hair, “Fuck, sorry—Sor—“

And then Sirius is kissing him. His thumbs are stroking slowly along his cheeks and he’s sucking Remus’ bottom lip slowly into his mouth, brushing his tongue along it with the same amount of leisure. Remus sighs into it, fingers digging into his own thighs for a moment before he’s leaning forward and pressing his palms flat on Sirius’.

“Only if want.” Sirius says against his mouth, “Remus.” He pulls away just enough to look at Remus’ glassy eyes, “You not want a second ago, I’m just want no more sorry. No, ah, not need to do anything, okay?” He curls his fingers back around Remus’ ears, around the curls there, “карамель, can just put movie on. Have more cake.”

Remus sniffles a little, blinking hard at Sirius, “Did—Did you just call me caramel?” He remembers the soft word from last time.

Sirius smiles, a bit, and lifts one shoulder, “It’s good, no? It’s…not sure how to say…small names important in Russia. Mean two people are close.”

Is that really what we are? Remus wants to ask. He sort of wants to yell it because, as great as this is, he sees nothing but a darker end. For himself, anyway.

“Oh.” Is all he says out loud and falls sideways a little on the couch into the cushions. He’s suddenly so tired. Sirius doesn’t seem to mind, though, and mirrors his position, their knees knocking together. His soft smile is still aimed right at Remus. “What’s yours then?”

Sirius’ smile grows, “Mama give to me when little.” He raises his eyebrows, “Little bit funny, not laugh.”

Remus feels a smile of his own start up and he uses his sleeve to wipe his nose, sitting up a little more, “I won’t laugh.”

“Sivushka.” It rolls nicely off of Sirius’ tongue, and his cheeks pink a little but he looks pleased, “Sort of…for family? Friends. Not so much lover, too…small?”

“Casual?” Remus offers, “Like, it means a different feeling.”

Sirius’ smile is soft, “So good with english. So helpful.”

“Sivushka.” Remus tries it out, but it doesn’t sound half as good. Then, he can’t help it, heart in his throat when he asks, “What’s…what’s more than friends? Like, not—just, I’m curious what that would be.”

“Lover? Sirusya, maybe.” Then he smiles, eyes crinkling warmly, “You like? You call me?”

“Surely someone already calls you that.” Remus tries to keep his voice light. I mean, look at you. He wants to add.

Sirius sits up at that a little, eyes going hard, hand—that had been rubbing idly against Remus’ knee—going still, “No. No one call me.”

Remus swallows, “I—I didn’t mean—“

“I’m not—изменя́ть.” He huffs in frustration, “изменя́ть—I’m not know, not know, okay?”

Remus’s chest goes cold, “Okay. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply anything.”

“Not be here if with—someone else.” Sirius shakes his head, “Not like that, Remus. I’m not.” The phrase is followed by a disgruntled spell of Russian that Remus does his best to follow through tone alone.

“I know.” Remus finally says, “I know you aren’t.” Because he’s only met Sirius twice but he can honestly say he does know this about him, “I’m sorry.”

“Not apology, карамель.” Sirius rubs his hands over his face, “Too much action, sorry.”

Remus looks on in confusion, “What?”

“Me, me,” Sirius gestures aggressively towards himself, “Me. Too much action. Not right.”

Overreaction, Remus thinks and nods, “No, I understand.”

“I’m know…what guys you probably see doing…this.” Sirius doesn’t look at him as he acknowledges exactly why Remus is there for what feels like the first time other than money exchanges, “Not wrong for you to think. But no.”

“Sirius, it’s okay.” But that feels wrong somehow and so he says instead, “I mean, we’ve done this three times.”

Sirius is quiet for a long moment this time. “It’s true.” Then, after running his fingers over his necklace a few times, “You have other small name?”

The topic change pings a little, “Um. Not anything big. Re, mostly, if anything.”

“Re.” It sounds like a lovely mess of vowel in Sirius’ mouth, “That’s all?”

Remus nods, “Nothing like Russia, huh?”

Sirius runs a hand over his face one more time but when he moves it there’s a trace of his usual smile, “I’m find you one, not worry.” Then, eyes down and voice quiet but questioning, “You have…small name…for lover?”

Remus swallows. His throat is so dry all of a sudden so he just shakes his head, then realizes Sirius isn’t looking at him so he croaks out, “No.”

Sirius nods back, “Oh.” Then he grabs the remote and pushes it into Remus’ hand, “Find something. I’m call for tea and get money before forget. Be back.”

It seems like the end of the conversation, but the conversation doesn’t feel over. Remus choses a movie, but he couldn’t say what it was about. When its over Sirius has to tuck the money into Remus’ back pocket himself. He presses another kiss to Remus’ cheek. Then Remus doesn’t hear from him for two weeks.

Chapter Text

“He was probably out of the country. He said he was in Australia, yeah?” James said, then he nodded down at the pizza boxes they were folding, “Want to race to see who can do the most in a minute? Loser buys pizza.”

“Okay, but—okay.” Remus sighed, “But we ended on a strange note. And no, I don’t want to race, will you focus?”

James lifted an eyebrow, “Are you having a melt-down over your Russian lover?”

“What? No! He’s not my Russian lover. And we get pizza for free. Just—by the way.”

“He sounds like your Russian lover.”

“I—Okay.” Remus folds another box, maybe grabbing the cardboard too hard, “Okay. No. No, he’s just another client, and I’ve had other work—which I’m not going to tell you about—and I have no—no, claim over him, and…and it’s fine. It’s all fine. He called and now I’m seeing him on Friday. It’s—what is it? It’s Monday. And it doesn’t matter if it’s weird because our relationship is purely sexual. And it’s fine.”

James nods along, “I’m saying yes and nodding because I feel that that’s what you want me to do.”

“Yes, thank you, it is.” Remus tries to say that with finality but his chest feels no more settled.

~

The window in Remus’ apartment breaks on Wednesday. It’s bitterly cold and windy and Remus is sound asleep when it bursts, shatters right out of its frame and startles him awake. He spends from three to four finding and fixing a tarp the best he can from the gas station that he heads right back to at five for the early morning shift until ten. Then it’s to Geno’s for the lunch shift.

Frank calls, and then Billy whose been out of town for the last month and likes to pay for the night and fuck hourly. Thursday morning comes and Remus is dead on his feet. He’s cold all the time, his muscles ache, and he’d like to never be touched again for at least a few days. Billy is sweet, but he does know what he likes. Even the exhaustion, however, can’t keep the bitter chill that leaks through the tarp from keeping him awake in his hard bed.

Remus’ suit trousers and button-down, when Friday roles around, feels itchy and hot, and Remus stares at the number twelve for a long time before knocking. Sirius is smiling when he opens the door, and then he’s not.

“Remus! I—Remus?”

Remus sends him a smile, one that he’s positive is not at all convincing, “Hi, Sirius. Big trip to Australia again?”

“Ah, no, United States. New York, big meeting,” He closes the door behind Remus, eyes wary, “Remus, not look so good.”

Remus sighs, dropping his bag by the door and turning towards the sitting room, “Well, thanks a lot.”

“Hey, no—“ Sirius doesn’t grab him like Remus expected, but there is a warm hand on his back that stops him in his tracks, “I not mean bad. I mean, need something? I can help.”

“With what?” Remus raises his eyebrow at him.

“Anything you want.” The reply is so automatic that Remus almost rolls his eyes because this really doesn’t happen. Sirius doesn’t know him. He doesn’t know Sirius. There tie is a friend of a friend who somehow finds delight in giving out sex recommendations.

“It’s true, Remus.” Sirius steps forward, looms over him gently somehow, “What you need? What wrong, tell me.” His words are so earnest and then he checks himself, “If you want.” His hand is still on Remus’ back, so warm, and Remus presses back into it.

“No, I’m fine. I’m just tired, that’s all. My apartment—well, the window sort of broke and I took up a few extra shifts so I can pay to fix it.”

“I pay.”

Remus shakes his head, “No, that’s not what I’m saying. I just, you asked, so…“

“I’m know, I’m saying. Remus, shouldn’t have broken window.” He makes a face like its the simplest thing in the world. To him it probably is. A broken widow is his kernel of sand to Remus’ sand dune.

“I’m help.” He says again. “Please, Remus, let me.”

“No, my landlord will probably cover some of it, really, it’s okay, Sirius.” That is, if he could get ahold of his landlord.

“I…okay.” He sounds completely unconvincing, and Remus is ready to stop the extra cash from being slid into his pocket when he leaves. His hand is still looping Remus in and he presses, pulling him a little against his chest. His other hand comes up and he thumbs softly beneath Remus’ eye, against the sleeplessness charcoaled there, “усталый, карамель.”

Remus looks up, the soft Russian lulling him, “What?” He recognizes what seems to have become Sirius’ name for him. He doesn’t mind, but it might make him melt a little.

“Sleepy. Like friend’s baby, Remus.”

The corner of Remus’ mouth lifts at that, “I’m fine.” Then he does lean into Sirius’ space because that’s what he’s here to do. Because he wants the warmth any way he can get it, “What do you want to do tonight?” He reaches up to fiddle with the top button of Sirius’ white shirt, “We got a little distracted last time.” He decides he really has to say more than that, “And you did say you had been thinking about me, remember?”

Sirius’ thumb strokes a few times more against Remus’ skin but he nods slowly, gaze dropping obviously to Remus’ mouth, “Yes. I’m think about you.”

Remus smooths his palms down over the hard muscles of Sirius’ arms curling gently around his wrist, “Yeah? What do you think about?”

A funny expression flits across Sirius’ face for a moment. His eyes tighten up and he bites his lip. “Hard to say. You think of me?”

Remus can’t help but smile a little bit at that, “You have no idea.”

The corner of Sirius’ mouth lifts, expression clearing just a little, “Hey, that’s why you tell me. Come on.”

Remus looks up at him. He presses his hands to Sirius’ chest, hooking one finger in the gold chain there, “I did. I think about…”He takes a deep breath, rubbing his thumb over the ring, “Your hands. A bit.”

When Remus looks up Sirius is smiling, tongue in his cheek, eyes teasing, “A bit?”

Remus tugs on the chain, “Stop it.”

Sirius laughs, “Sorry, sorry. Okay? Okay, go, you talk about my hands.” As if to emphasize his point, he runs his down the length of Remus’ torso, smoothing them around to rest just above the swell of his ass. They’re warm and big and are a perfect weight to push Remus just a little bit more against Sirius’ chest.

Remus tilts his chin up, looking in a way that he’s seen melt men before, “No. Your turn.” Sirius huffs out a little laugh and Remus pushes up on his toes, lips just brushing Sirius’ jaw, “Hm?”

Sirius takes another few moments to answer, his thumbs brushing with a firm pressure on either side of the base of Remus’ spine. He bows his head down and brushes their noses together, “I’m think about neck.” One of his hands comes up and presses to the column of it. Remus’ breath catches when Sirius’ thumb digs gently beneath his chin, tilting his head back so he can arch down further and press an open mouthed kiss there, “I’m think about…” Sirius’ tongue darts out to wet his own lips and it brushes Remus’ skin. He starts a word, “Ta” a few times then sighs, “Not know but…” He lets out a breath and it’s hot over Remus’ throat. Then he’s walking Remus back towards the bedroom out of the entry hall, “вкус in Russian. Like sweet, Remus.”

Remus’ eyes close on their own as the back of his knees hit the bed and Sirius crawls over him.

“Sweet but also—also not. Also another thing, don’t know how to say.” He sucks a bruising kiss into the junction of Remus’ neck and jaw and Remus’ moans with it, “Don’t know, but like. Like a lot.”

“Taste.” Remus manages to say.

Sirius hums into his skin, “Taste, and…” he sits up on his elbows a little, hair curling into his eyes and makes a pinching motion with his hand, “You know?”

Remus blinks, “I, uh, salt.”

Sirius makes a low sound in the back of his throat and drops back to Remus’ neck, “Salt. Salt and sweet.” Remus groans again because the flash of tongue he just felt definitely wasn’t an accident, nor the nip of teeth that followed it, “So good each other, Remus.” Then he looks up, huffing out a laugh and looking proud of himself, “No, I mean together.”

Remus lets his head fall back into the pillows and smiles at the ceiling, “Yeah, yeah.”

Sirius’ face appears above him, grinning, “You proud?” He tangles his fingers into Remus’ hair, presses his hips down on Remus’ and grinds, “Huh, карамель?” He brushes their lips together, dropping his voice, “You proud of me?”

“Yes.” Remus presses a hand to the back of Sirius’ neck and kisses him.

Sirius indulges him for a few seconds and then murmurs, “Your time.”

But his hips are still working themselves down against Remus, their thighs slotted together snuggly.

Remus tries his best to blink his eyes open and breaths as evenly as he can even though he’s been waiting for this for weeks, “I—fuck, your—your back, your back.”

“Yeah?” Sirius presses one more positively filthy kiss to Remus’ mouth and then is sitting up, thighs snug against Remus’ hips. He reaches behind him to pulls his t-shirt over his head, “You like?” He grins, placing his hands on either side of Remus’ head and slowly bending his elbows, lowering himself down, “You want touch?”

Remus doesn’t respond, breath stollen as Sirius circles his hips, so he simply loops his arms beneath Sirius’ and splays his palms over his back—the warm, wide expanse of it. “Fuck.” He breathes, “Take your pants off.”

Sirius breaks from where he’d been sucking at Remus’ jaw, “Why, you think about that, too?”

Remus groans and reaches down and tugs at Sirius’ belt, sliding it free from the buckle and making just as quick work of his button and fly. He pushes the thick material away as much as he can, which isn’t much, and makes a frustrated noise and presses his hand against him through his boxers, feeling the heat of him.

Sirius lets out a breathy noise, somewhere between a laugh and a moan, “Remus, hand cold.”

“It’ll warm up.” Remus pushes at Sirius’ shoulders until they roll, until Remus can straddle his hips instead. He helps Sirius kick off his pants the rest of the way and then Sirius is laying there in his boxers and Remus feels wholly too clothed. He sits like that for a moment before moving his hands to the buttons on his own shirt while Sirius’ palms smooth up and down his thighs, undoing his belt with slow fingers.

“Hey, hurry, I’m get bored down here.” He gives his belt a tug and Remus laughs as he pushes his shirt from his shoulders. Sirius pulls Remus’ belt from its loops with a dramatic flourish and Remus laughs again as he pulls him down so he too can push his pants off as well. And then, suddenly, they’re chest to chest. Not how it was last time—the first time—mostly kissing in the dark and pure sex, but looking at each other. Sirius is running his fingertips down the dip at the center of Remus’ chest and over his bottom lip like its precious. And Remus barely understands.

So he leans down and kisses him again. Hot and dirty and mind numbing. Because he’s being payed. And he’ll accept money for sex because he has to. He won’t accept money for any type of heartache. He won’t, he won’t.

“Fuck, Remus—“ Sirius’ words are kiss-slurred, “Your mouth—“ Sirius sucks Remus’ lower lip into his mouth.

“You think about that?” Remus gasps out then kisses him again, reaching between them to shove their boxers away, “Off, Sirius, off.”

They’re skin to skin and Remus can’t breathe. He can’t breathe because suddenly Sirius is kissing him, his arms full around his waist and it’s safe. Sirius starts murmuring words into his skin.

“Ты такой теплый.” His hands span Remus’ back so fully that Remus feels incased in the soft vowels of Russian, “Это то, чего я жду.”

And Remus pulls back with a gasp. Sirius makes a disgruntled noise as Remus rolls to the side, pushing himself onto his elbows and knees, “Like last time, yeah? This is okay?”

Remus kept his eyes towards the bed, waiting for Sirius to move. It took a moment. Just when Remus was starting to feel weird laying there with his ass in the air Sirius shifted.

“This how you like it? Usual?” He ask slowly, positioning himself behind Remus.

“Whatever you want, Sirius.”

There’s a huff from behind him, “Have to tell me what you like. Have to Remus, or I’m not do.” He leans over Remus’ back, so warm and present that it makes Remus close his eyes and dip his head down into the pillow below him, “Or I’m leave you here with hard cock, and I’m go to shower.”

Remus huffs out a laugh, “Would you?”

Sirius presses a few kisses to the back of his neck and Remus sighs. Even with his back to him, Remus can feel every bit of warmth Sirius radiates.

“What you want Remus. You tell me, I’m do.”

“This is suppose to be about what you want.”

Sirius hums, as if considering this, “Okay. You tell me what you want. If I’m don’t like, I say no. Good, yes?” Then, after a moment, “This your favorite way? What’s called? Dog?”

Remus groans, “Don’t say that.”

“Your favorite?” Sirius asks with another kiss.

“I—I don’t know. You seemed to like it last time.”

“Remus.” Suddenly the warmth from his back is gone and Remus has to turn, craning his neck around to see Sirius’ face. His eyes were dark and—and hurt, maybe, “You/ like it last time?”

“Yes.” Remus pushed back on his heels, pushing himself right into Sirius’ bare lap, the sound Sirius makes sending a jolt straight to his own cock. He curls one hand around the back of Sirius’ neck and tilts his head to rest on his shoulder, “Sirius, yes. I like this.”

Sirius’ hands moved to Remus’ hips almost instantly, as if supporting him there, and he sighed against his neck, holding Remus against him. His fingers reach around Remus’ hip, looping his cock, “Promise?”

Remus lets his lips part, working his jaw against the feeling of Sirius hard and rutting softly against him. “Promise.” he manages.

Remus can feel the cool metal of Sirius’ necklace right between his wing bones and leans into it, tilting his neck when Sirius starts to place open kisses there. “Good. Like, too.”

“Good.” Remus breathes, “Good.”

Sirius makes a soft noise when Remus arches his back, trapping Sirius’ dick against his own stomach and grinding upward until it sat snug against his ass. Remus hissed when Sirius’ fingers tightened around the base of his cock and blinked blearily around the room, “Do you have—“

Sirius clicked open the cap of the lube in answer. Remus hadn’t even seen him retrieve it, but he didn’t really care, not with Sirius dribbling some slickly over his own dick and Remus’ back, and then into his palm to wrap around Remus again. It was good before, if not a little dry, but now it was nothing but a somewhat cool, slick glide.

Sirius let out a long breath, “Good…”

God, did Remus want to see his face.

Sirius’ grip became a little more firm on his hips as his thrust forward, keeping time with the hand he had working around Remus. Soft words of Russian accompanied the occasional sigh, and each time Remus tried to ignore the searing spikes of want that echoed through his veins. Sirius feigned no such ignorance. On the third twitch of Remus’ cock, he pulled Remus in so their back and chest were flushed together and pressed his lips to his ear.

“You like? Тебе нравится, когда я говорю по-русски, карамель?” When Remus let out what might have been close to a whine and his cock pulsed out a single bead of pre-cum, Sirius moaned softly, breath warm, “You like.” He gave a particularly hard thrust, rubbing perfectly. The lube had warmed up now, dried just a bit on their sweaty skin, and the warm tacky friction was almost deliriously good.

“Say—“ Remus swallowed, trying to push forward into Sirius’ hand and backwards on his dick at the same time, “Talk.” He wasn’t the one who should be making commands, but Sirius’ voice was low and warm. He could feel the purr of his words in Sirius’ chest, Sirius’ breath hot and panting against his neck.

And Sirius did. He murmured words right into Remus’ skin as he pressed their bodies together. And Remus almost regretted asking. It was too much, too intimate. Usually any talking was nonexistent or too dirty to do anything for Remus. Sirius could have been saying anything, he could have been reciting his grocery list, but in this situation it sounded so good, it sounded sweet and earnest. The pitch of Sirius’ voice hitched and wavered with his thrusts as his orgasm built and both broke together too, a hot rush against Remus’ back.

“Come on.” He said in English, then switched back to sweet sounding Russian, “получаться, карамель. для меня, для меня.”

Remus tilted his head back and Sirius’ mouth was on his neck again, right over his pulse. He left wet kisses there and then, mid kiss, right into his skin, “So hard for me.”

Remus sucked in a long breath and came over Sirius’ fist in spine melting pulses. His thighs, tired from keeping himself pressed against Sirius, shook and Sirius wrapped his arms fully around Remus’ waist, forearms to his stomach. He probably could feel the tired muscles, but Remus pretended for a second that he just wanted Remus close. Some clients liked cuddling. Sirius seemed to be okay with it. Remus usually hated it. He usually left as quickly as he could, not liking to hang around unless it would score him a little extra cash.

Right now, he’d forgotten about the money for a few moments there. That didn’t necessarily feel better.

“Hey,” Sirius gave him a little squeeze, “I clean us up?”

Remus nodded and took a breath. He slid off Sirius’ lap, “Yeah.” He pushed his sweaty hair out of his face, trying to rid himself of the post-sex haze that, honestly, he wasn’t completely used to. “Sounds good.”

Remus watches Sirius through the open door of the washroom. The tight curve of his ass and his narrow hips give way to broad shoulders and back muscles that are, frankly, obscene. Remus curls his fingers into his palms and tries not to think too hard about how, next time, he wants to get his hands all over the smooth, tanned skin of Sirius’ back.

He comes back with a washcloth and after its discarded he climbs back onto the bed. Remus stands and pulls his boxers back on and then sits on the edge, uncertain. “I, um. We didn’t really talk about how long you want me to stay this time.”

Sirius looks up from where he’d been arranging the covers over his bare waist, eyebrows raised, “You stay night I think.” Like it was obvious.

Remus nodded, “Okay. You want me too?”

Sirius scoffed, eyes warm, “Remus, I’m not hit you out after sex.”

A small smile formed on Remus’ mouth, “Kick you out.”

“I’m not do that, too.” He grinned and patted the space on the bed beside him, slouching down on the pillows, “Not have to worry, okay?”

As Remus slid into bed, he thought that the fact that worry was one of Remus’ primary emotions was something Sirius had caught onto pretty fast. He curled beneath the covers, pulling his knees up a little to wait for the sheets to warm up. Sirius glanced at him and then disregarded the remote he had been holding and curled on his side too. They were facing each other, and close enough that Remus could lean forward a few inches and kiss him. If he wanted to. If Sirius wanted him to.

Sirius didn’t kiss him but he was smiling, half of his face a little smushed by his pillow and eyes soft, “Talking pillows?”

Remus blinked at him. It took him a good fifteen seconds to figure out what the hell that could mean when he figured it out and started to laugh. And couldn’t stop.

Sirius’ face was a strange mix of delight and confusion, “I’m say wrong? Remus, what?”

“Sorry—” Remus knew it really wasn’t that funny but he squeezed his eyes shut and pressed a hand over his mouth. But he felt light and—and safe and he knew it wouldn’t last but he couldn’t help it.

Sirius let out a short laugh of his own and rolled his weight on top of Remus, “What I’m say, Remus? Hey, don’t hide.” He bent down, nosing at Remus’ fingers a bit before giving up and shifting his weight to one shoulder and gently prying them away. He smiled when he saw Remus was still laughing weakly, like it had warn him out, “Nice smile, not hide from me.”

Remus drew in a shaky breath, wiping his forearm over his eyes, “Oh my god. Pillow talk. Pillow talk.” He blinked up at Sirius, rubbing his hands up and down his strong arms a few times, “Good, though.”

“You think so funny.” Sirius bent to nose at Remus’ cheek.

“I’m not laughing at your English, I promise,” Remus let out another little chuckle, “It just took me a second, I had no idea what you meant and then I got it and—fuck, it was—it was, uh, cute.” Remus almost covered his mouth again as the words came out.

Sirius drew in a breath and promptly sat back on Remus’ hips. Remus tried to ignore Sirius’ naked soft cock as it brushed over his own in his briefs and instead laughed at Sirius expression.

“Not cute, Remus! Big, strong.” Then, through a bit back smile, “Russia best.”

Remus rolled his eyes, “You’re shameless, you know that?”

Sirius tilted his head, “Not know this.”

“Like…” Remus sighed and settled his hands on Sirius’ hips to think, “Like you’re sitting on top of me naked.”

Sirius makes an interested noise, a smile lifting one corner of his mouth. “Hm.” He hooks two fingers in the band of Remus’ boxers, “Think you be shameless too.”

Remus lets his head sink back into the pillows, “Whatever you want.”

Sirius groaned, leaning down with one hand on each of Remus’ cheeks, “карамель.”

“I don’t think you got the entire definition of sh—“

Sirius pressed their mouths together, hard and slow. His palms were a warm weight, boxing Remus in in a way that mirrored his thighs. Remus looped his fingers around Sirius’ wrists and held onto the kiss.

“I’m think…” Sirius pressed a shorter kiss to the corner of Remus’ mouth, “You want contact?” When Remus made a confused noise Sirius hummed and pressed another kiss to his lips, “I’m not use right word.”

Remus let Sirius rearrange them on the bed until they were chest to chest. Sirius hitched one of Remus’ legs over his hip and settled, rubbing softly at the soft skin of Remus’ thigh.

“Cuddle.” Remus provided.

Sirius wrinkled his nose, repeating the word in his soft accent a few times, then in Russian.

“Sure.” Remus tucked his hands between their bodies and let Sirius offer his arm as a pillow.

“You cuddle?” Sirius asks after a few moments of silence.

Remus shrugs the best he can, “Sometimes. If they want it.”

“No, you.” Sirius nudges their noses together, “You like? Cuddle? When you have sex.”

Remus blinks. He honestly doesn’t remember the last time he had sex without being handed cash afterwards. “I—yeah.” He decides, “Yeah, no, I do.” At least, he likes this.

Sirius hums happily and reaches up to turn off the overhead light with one of the switches conveniently imbedded in the surrounding bed frame.

“Fancy.” Remus mumbles.

“Yes, only best for you.”

Remus snorts even though he thinks Sirius might be being completely truthful, and then it’s just their soft breathing in the dark. Sirius’ bare skin against his feels nice even through the thin fabric of his underwear and Remus finds it easy to close his eyes, easy to settle into Sirius’ arms around his back.

“Call at seven tomorrow. You sleep, I go into living room, try not to wake, okay?”

“You work so hard.”

“Good job, though. Get to meet lots of people. Travel world.”

Remus just nods against Sirius’ shoulder because he knows he’s not suppose to ask about jobs or home life. Sirius doesn’t seem to need a prompt.

“I, ah, hard word for me in English but I’m try for you.” His fingers are running long, slow lines up and down Remus’ spine, “I’m architect? Okay say?”

And oh. That’s not what Remus was expecting, but he understands the slightly muddled vowels just fine. “I—yeah. Yeah, an architect.”

“Build house, building, for people. Big clients all around world. Very lucky I have but…sometimes they hard. Lots of words lots of…to say.” He laughs a little, “Don’t know words.”

Remus smiles and says, “They mess with your creative vision?”

Sirius lets out a husky laugh, “Don’t know ‘vision’ but mess with me, yes! Calls on their time not me, don’t like this, ask re-do when too late. Hard. Most don’t like help earth. I try help, but.”

Remus shifts his head to look up at him in the dark. The moonlight coming in through the cracks in the curtains turns the room blue and Sirius with it, all soft lines of silver, “What do you mean?”

Sirius hums thoughtfully, eyes tracking his fingertips over Remus’ shoulder. Remus fights off a shiver, “There different materials use better for planet. Make house warm and not use heat a lot. Can design so it better for earth.” Sirius scrunches his nose, “I’m know not everyone like. Rather have big expensive house but I’m…” He lets out a big breath and rolls on his back, bringing Remus with him so he’s pressed against Sirius’ side, his arm splayed across Sirius’ broad chest, “I’m love world, Remus. You know? Have to take care.”

Remus almost wants to die at that. He was wrong before. Sirius isn’t nice to everyone, he’s nice to everything.

“That’s…That’s amazing, Sirius. That’s really amazing.”

Sirius squeezes his shoulder, then flattens his palm down his back with a warm pressure, “Nice of you to say. Thank you.”

Remus nods and realizes his body is sinking further into the pillows and quilt, into Sirius’ body. He hums but doesn’t manage much more than that.

“Sleep, карамель.” Sirius’ hand finds his hair, and Remus falls asleep to soft murmurs of Russian.

Chapter Text

Remus woke up slowly again on Saturday morning but it wasn’t as surprising this time. He spent a few moments blinking sleepily at the ceiling, then at the windows. There was a shoe leaning against the curtain gap like someone had tried to keep as little light from the room as possible. Remus smiled and pushed himself up on his elbows to look closer.

“Ridiculous.” He mumbled, then was distracted by the voice coming from the main room. It was mostly muffled but Remus could tell Sirius wasn’t speaking English. It reminded him sharply of the previous night and he had to lie down for a second again, blinking away any lingering arousal. He made it to the connected bath eventually and splashed some water on his face, used the toothbrush he had brought—just in case. He stood in front of his bag for a good three minutes, staring at Sirius’ suitcase next to him. It was open and overflowing a little. He felt stupid for not thinking to bring another set of clothes, and he really didn’t want to put his button down on right now. On the floor by the bed was the t-shirt Sirius had stripped off last night. After another long pause, he bent and grabbed, pulling the material over his head. It was a little heavy, like Remus could feel the high thread count. It was unbearably soft, nothing like his own clothes, which were all slightly stiff from the shitty laundromat soap. He looked at himself in the wardrobe mirror. The shirt hung around his thighs, showing only a sliver of his black briefs.

He looked…good, for him. He hoped Sirius wouldn’t mind.

The main room was chillier than the bedroom and he wished he had looked for some of Sirius’ nice thick socks, too.

“Я знаю, что проекты с вами, я отправил их.” Sirius was speaking in fast, frustrated Russian, “Нет, не говори мне, что нет, я знаю, что я сделал. Пожалуйста, не перебивай—“

It cut off when he saw Remus. Remus offered an awkward little wave, fighting off the overwhelming urge to pull on the hem of the shirt and Sirius’ eyes raked over him. Slowly.

He pulled the phone away from his ear, “Я должен перезвонить тебе.” He’d barely gotten the words out before he ended the call, “Remus.”

Remus offers a small smile, “Morning.”

Sirius’ returning one is a little blinding, “Morning, Remus. Sleep good?”

“Yeah, you?” Remus only then notices the still mostly full breakfast cart. Sirius sees him looking and motions him over.

“Yes, eat. For us. Good.” He tugs at the hem of Remus’ shirt when he gets close enough, smile turning soft, “Best.”

Remus isn’t sure if he’s referring to his sleep or Remus’ outfit.

He tries to pick up a croissant instead of blushing but ends up doing both, “Good. How was your call?”

Sirius makes a disgruntled sound and sits down hard in one of the chairs, pulling an omelette towards him, “Don’t want to know.”

Remus laughs a little and sits too, pulling his legs to his chest and curling his toes in.

“Hey,” Sirius grabs something from the couch ottoman and throws it in Remus’ lap, “Cold. Here. Very nice in no pants,” He smiles, tongue in cheek, “but cold.”

“Oh, I—“

“Put on, Remus. Is nice.”

The sweatshirt is gray and just as nice as everything else. And without a logo. Meaning it probably cost more than Remus’ entire wardrobe together.

“Hey,” Sirius nods at him while stabbing some eggs, “You like party?”

What? “What?”

Sirius laughs a little, “You know. Dance. Food. You not like?”

“Ah. No, I mean…maybe I would? I never really do anything like that.” He’s either working or resting up to work some more, save for the weekly visit with Lily and James.

Sirius looks somewhat delighted at this, “You like with me? I’m pay you, not worry. Can be same thing as a night. More if you want.”

Remus tears off a piece of the croissant and reaches for the jam on the table, “Okay. What’s the party for?”

“It’s client. I, uh. Sort of have lie?”

Remus raises an eyebrow when Sirius looks sheepish, “Oh?”

Sirius spreads his hands, palms up, “They like me. The client, he like me and ask a lot why I’m not like him. I maybe panic a little, say I’m have boyfriend. Only now he invite me to party, tell me to bring boyfriend.”

Remus feels his cheeks heat, “Oh.”

Sirius’ cheeks look like they’re doing the same, “I’m know, so stupid. Don’t have to if you not want. But…could be fun. We dance, kiss a bit, make look real. You come home with me after, if you want?” He smiles a little, “I like.”

Remus chews slowly. This is such a bad idea, pretending to be Sirius’ boyfriend. He almost says no. He should say no. “Sounds good. Should I, uh, how, or, what are you wearing?”

Sirius hums, “Have suit?”

Remus shakes his head, “Just the button down.” He flushes when he realizes what he just admitted, “I—Sorry.”

Sirius smiles though, “No ‘sorry,’ карамель! I’m take shopping. Fun, so fun. Okay? We find time before party?”

“I—Sirius, you don’t have to do that.”

Sirius grins, “Want to, okay? Really. So good, Remus. I’m happy you come, didn’t really want to be alone. People talk fast at party, is loud…” He looks down at his eggs, “Hard to follow, you know? Good to have someone. Good to have you.”

Remus pushes his hair off his forehead and offers a smile of his own, “I’m happy you’re happy.” It’s all he can think to say that isn’t too incriminating. Good to have you is still ringing in his ears a bit. They finish breakfast, then Sirius heads to work and Remus heads home until his night shift at Geno’s.

~

The party turns out to be the next Saturday, and by Wednesday Remus starts to think that’s when he’ll next see Sirius too. But that night while he’s with Frank, his phone starts buzzing mid hand job.

“You—You can get that.” Frank pants, which is, honestly, vaguely weird.

Remus is glad there’s the tv on so he doesn’t have to respond and just shakes his head and tightens his fist. Frank forgets about it until it buzzes again ten minutes later while Remus is getting dressed.

“So, do you like, uh, have a boyfriend now, or.”

“No.” Remus answers too quickly, “No, it’s probably just my boss or something.”

“Oh.” Frank cracks a smile, “Weird to think they called during that.”
“Good think I didn’t answer.” It comes out harsher than Remus meant to and he sighs. He puts a hand on Franks forearm, smiles a little flirty, “Hey, this was fun. See you soon?”

Frank brightens up, “Yeah.” He riffles through his wallet and hands Remus what he’s do, “See you, Remus.”

He’s a little ashamed of it, but he calls Sirius back the second he closes the door, bring the phone to his ear and the door to its frame at the same time.

“карамель.” Sirius’ voice sounds warm even through the speakers, “Sorry call twice, not urgent. If busy is okay.”

“I was with a client, sorry. I’m not busy now though. I’m just leaving. What’s up, Sirius?”

The phone line was quiet for a few beats too long, “Client. Ah, sorry interrupt.” He sounds more…somber, Remus, supposes, than he’s ever heard.

Remus winces, really not wanting Sirius to be thinking about what Remus was doing when he missed his call, “It was nothing, really.” He wants desperately to lighten the suddenly awkward mood, “I’m—I’m excited for the party on Friday. With you.”

“Yes? Will be fun. I’m think maybe see sooner though. You have time for shopping?”

Remus nods then closes his eyes and gives his head a little shake when he realizes he’s on the phone, “Yeah. I mean, yes, I don’t have a shift tomorrow until 5:00.” He doesn’t mention that it’s a double.

“Can I pick you up your house?”

“No.” Remus sounds just as frantic as he feels, “I mean, that’s probably just out of the way.” That sounds lame and he knows it, “Why don’t I come to you? I’d prefer it.” He adds, because Sirius is always so thoughtful about his comfort, and then feels like shit for using that against him.

“Okay, good.” Then, after a beat, “Excited, Remus. Like shopping lots.”

Remus smiles, thinking about the nice t-shirts and the leggings. He keeps hoping those will make another appearance but he hasn’t seen them yet, “Yeah? Well, that’s good because I’m absolutely shit at it.”

Sirius lets out a loud laugh right in his ear, “Never hear swear, карамель. Well, outside sex.”

Remus laughs, plugging his headphone in as he walks, “Sorry.”

“No.” Sirius lets out a little breath, and there’s a rustle like he’s settling into a chair maybe, holding the phone closer, “No, is good.”

Remus nods, shoves his hands into his pockets and smiles at the sidewalk.

“Hm. Have to go, Remus. Shop tomorrow. Meet at hotel. Nine…ah, ten morning.”

Remus laughs, “Okay, ten. See you.”

Sirius’ voice sounds incredibly soft through the speakers, “See you.”

~

Shopping for one suit for a party turns into Sirius trying to supply Remus with, well, much more than a single suit. Remus protests the entire time.

He holds up his bag, “Sirius, I have a suit. I let you buy me a, frankly, much too expensive suit.” That I have nowhere to properly store, he doesn’t add, “There’s no way I’m letting you—“

“But so fun, Remus.” Sirius is sporting a navy sweater, dark jeans and a white beanie that makes his black hair look stark and gorgeous and, quite honestly, Remus isn’t sure how he’s resisting anything this man says, “I’m not have anyone to do this for ever.”

And christ, his beanie matches his pristine white sneakers. Remus feels hot and completely unsure as to why he even likes that. He takes a deep breath, “I don’t need new clothes. Thank you for the suit.” Then, his brain clicks back on, “No one…ever?”

Sirius pauses in refolding the shirt he was looking at, glancing from under the brim of his beanie, “Ah, no.” He smoothes the shirt after he folds it, “Sort of hard, you know? Get job young. Lots of money. Most want money, is it.” He huffs and a flash of anger, or maybe simply frustration crosses his face, “I’m can tell early. I’m ask on date and they ask—they ask some,” He waves his hand and shuffles over to a rack of leather jackets, “crazy place. They ask clothes and jewelry and…”

His shoulders are rising a little faster now and Remus stops at his shoulder, wanting to be close but unsure if Sirius wants it. He stands so that their shoulders are brushing but pretends to look at the jackets.

Sirius’ voice is quiet when he speaks, eyes unfocused, “They ask everything but me.” He swallows and his voice comes out thick, “You know?”

“Sirius.” Remus feels like he only has half his voice. He presses his hand to Sirius’ shoulder, “I…That’s horrible, I’m sorry.” He opens and closes his mouth a few times, “God. I…I don’t even know what to say.” They end up just standing by the leather jackets for a while, Remus’ thumb rubbing softly over the neck of Sirius’ sweater, wanting to brush skin and not be too obvious about it.

“Is okay.” Sirius sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. He sends Remus a wavering smile, “Has to happen one day. Just have hope.”

And just like that, Remus feels—he is—pushed out of the running. He shifts a few more jackets around while Sirius composes himself a little more. Maybe it’s what he does, this job, he thinks. Sirius doesn’t like it. Maybe its how he looks, although he didn’t think the sex would be so good if that were the case. He thinks about Sirius’ pause on the phone after he’d said he’d been with Frank and sighs. He can’t help what he has to do to put food on the table. He wishes he could tell Sirius it isn’t forever, even that he’d hoped he wouldn’t have to do it for this long, but…but. But he doesn’t want to talk about it. But he doesn’t want to lose Sirius by talking about it.

“Hey, you want lunch?”

Remus looks up to see Sirius’ smiling softly. He knocks their shoulders together. Remus smiles back and the cloud feels like it’s passing. Just a little.

“Sure, but I’m paying.”

Sirius smiles hugely and carries Remus’ bag for him all the way to the restaurant, and lets them part ways there instead of asking questions about why Remus won’t let him drive him home. And it’s enough. Because it has to be.

Sirius, once alone in his car, tucks the receipt for the lunch Remus bought him into his wallet. Sticky rice and sweet and sour chicken.

~

Sirius in a suit is a little heartbreaking. He opens the door to their usual suite and Remus almost wants to turn around because this is going to be hard. He also wants to push Sirius against a wall and take the offending garment off of him.

“Look good, Remus.” Sirius closes the door behind him and turns to smooth his hands down Remus’ chest, his arms. It’s a series of hard, powerful strokes and Remus wants to stumble under them but digs his heels in, “I’m knew grey good color for you, I’m knew.”

Remus smiles at the phrasing, brings one hand to cover one of Sirius’ and squeezes, “Thanks. You too.”

“Okay.” Sirius glances at his watch—his fucking huge, ridiculous watch—and then smoothes once more over Remus’ shoulders appreciatively, “So, we pretend boyfriends, yes? Want to know what is okay to do. Kissing?”

Remus nods, a little bit thoroughly touched—as usual, “Yeah.”

“I’m hold?” He brushes Remus’ waist.

“Mhm.”

Sirius’ smile turns playful, “You can hold and kiss, too.”

Thank god.

Remus holds out his hand and watches Sirius’ fingers slide between his own before looking up at him, trying for a relaxed grin, “We’ll do great, yeah? No worries.”

~

Remus is introduced to people in a blur. He’s shaking hands with one hand and holding Sirius’ with the other. Or he’s nodding hello’s and Sirius’ arm is weaving around his waist. It’s altogether not a bad start to the night. It’s also the first time it occurs to Remus that he’s out in public with Sirius, not just once, but twice. Not a bad night.

Especially not when Sirius leans in and whispers lowly in his ear to be heard over the music, “We get drinks?”

The make their way through a sea of mingling bodies towards the bar and Sirius leans in close so they can look at cocktail specials together. There’s a dark and stormy that looks like the perfect mix of thirst quench and buzz. It’s fifteen dollars and Remus cringes.

“You want anything?” Sirius’ palm is warm on his lower back, “Not have to.”

“I—Yeah, I’m okay. Just some water.”

Sirius nods and flags the bartender, ordering Remus’ water and himself something that Remus doesn’t catch but arrives clear and glassy with vodka and ice cubes.

“Try if want.” The tiny straw that is in it looks ridiculous against Sirius lips and Remus watches his wet them.

He finds himself leaning in, “Kissing was okay, right?”

Sirius’ smile is honey and slow and he nods, “Yes, kissing okay.”

And Remus does. He tastes the sharp tang of vodka and lime in Sirius’ mouth, then licks deeper and finds just him. Remus imagines he can taste the black tea Sirius always orders. Sirius’ eyes are dazed and hooded when he pulls back. “Okay?” Remus asks.

Sirius doesn’t respond. He draws Remus back in with am arm around his shoulders and bites gently at Remus’ lower lip as he kisses him soundly. “Solntse.” He murmurs.

Remus’ eyes are still closed, legs unsteady when he asks, “What does that mean?”

“Sirius! Sirasha!”

They more or less jump and Remus watches Sirius have to blink a few times against the flashing club lights to see who is calling his name.

“Client.” He mumbles against Remus’ temple, “Start of party? Name Alex, call Sasha.” He sends him a private smile, “Little name.”

Remus nods, “Host of party. Is that the same as Sirasha?” Sirius nods and Remus burns with how much he likes that, “Is he the one who…”

“Sirasha!” Sasha presses a hand right to Sirius’ neck, dragging down over his chest, “Я так рад, что ты мог прийти, мой друг.”

Sirius sends Remus a look and Remus has to bite back a smile as he watches him subtly step away from Sasha’s grasp, “English, Sasha. Remushya not understand. This is Remus, I’m tell you about.”

Remus is still getting over whatever sweet sounding thing Sirius just did to his name when Sasha holds out his hand—a little too aggressively, “Not Russian? Interesting. You’re sure you want to speak English, Sirius? I don’t know if you can keep up.”

Sirius flushes across his cheeks, “You know I’m understand better than speak.”

“Just a joke, Sirka.” He nods to the glass in Sirius’ hand, “Drink that, lighten up, my friend.”

Remus takes Sasha’s hand—a little too firmly, “Sirius is building something for you?”

Sasha retracts his hand after a moment, squeezing it at the center of his palm and nodding a little warily, “Yes…I own a chain of hotels. Sirius is helping me reboot them. What people want is changing all the time, you know?”

“Sure.” Remus really doesn’t like him. Or his platinum blond hair. It looks sort of straw-like.

Sirius’ arm loops snugly around his hips and Remus leans into him, “Good party. Thanks for ask to come. You know everyone here?”

“Not at all.” Sasha laughs, “I invite my friends, they invite theirs. That’s what makes it nice, no? No pressure. Just music, good drinks, food.” He looks somewhere to the left of Remus, raises his glass in a greeting, “I should go say hello. Enjoy, любовники.”

As soon as he walks away Sirius groans, “Not fun. Good thing he pay most. What word for…not mean, but like mean?”

“Rude.” Remus shakes his head at Sasha’s back, “Jesus. What did he say at the end?”

Sirius considers the translation for a few moments, lip pulled devastatingly between his teeth, “Ah…like in love? But like sex.”

“I…Lovers?”

Sirius shrugs, “Sound right, but I’m not know.” He grabs Remus’ hand, setting his still mostly full drink down, “Hey, want dance with me?”

“I—Sure, yeah.” Remus is not a dancer but he damn sure wants to see Sirius dance. The thought gets even better when Sirius slides his suit jacket from around his shoulders and drapes it over the back of a random chair. He undoes the top button of his shirt, loosens his tie. Then he does the same for Remus.

“Wait, what if someone takes it?”

Sirius gives him a look, taking his hand and already pulling him away, “Who take? Why?”

“Well,” Remus shoots a look back at their jackets, “What if someone spills on it?”

Sirius snorts and draws him in, other dancing bodies surrounding them. Remus loses sight of the chair and looks up at Sirius’ face. The music feels like a hum here, real but not. The other dancers feel like a blur. They’re in a circle of their own. “Remus, not worry so much. Come with me.”

And Remus really, really can’t say no to that. He’s not sure he would have said no if Sirius had asked him that the first time he ever opened the door to suite 12, and that scares him a little. He’s not sure if Sirius would follow him anywhere at all.

But that’s hard to think about when Sirius is spinning him around and his warm chest is pressed against the entirety of Remus’ back. His palms cover his hips, fingers dipping into the crease leading between his thighs. The fact that they reach that far is almost hotter than the touch. Not to mention how close this position mirrors that of their last night spent together. The thought has his stirring in his dress pants.

“I’m think about it, too.” Sirius says right into his ear.

They’ve been here all of thirty minutes and Remus is ready to leave. But he wants to dance with Sirius. He turns, knowing its a bad idea, and presses their hips together, gasping when he feels that Sirius is hard for him, too. A long line that feels hot against Remus’ hip, even through the fabric. Remus’ entire face heats with the urge to grind against that bulge until the fabric is soaked with Sirius’ come. Sirius makes a low noise, one that Remus is half sure he imagined because he can just barely hear it over the music, and runs his hands up Remus’ hips and back.

“You come home tonight?” Sirius whispers, brushing their lips together.

Remus closes his eyes. Those words, this entire moment feels all too private to be happening in the middle of a fully swinging club. Remus doesn’t want two people around much less two hundred. Home. Remus wishes that’s what it was.

“Yeah.” He says anyway, and pretends it’s because he’s hard and he doesn’t want to actually go home to his freezing apartment and hand. He’d sat shivering in his bed just last night, hand wrapped around himself and on his side. He’d wadded up his comforter at his back, like a warm chest could be pressed there. He’d come at the thought of Sirius sliding into him, hot and bare, while he let Remus fuck his fist. Now that he can feel the hard line of Sirius’ cock right there, it’s all the worse, and his own dick releases a sudden drool of pre-come into his boxers. He leans into Sirius’, pushing against his body.

He wanted the warmth, Sirius was warm. He was painfully kind and generous. So handsome. All of those things radiated heat that soaked Remus to his very core in a completely new feeling. He wanted the safety he offered, which, really, translated somewhat over to his immense wealth. It offered a security that Remus had always, always lacked, and the fact that Sirius made him want it, want it from him, made Remus feel immeasurably guilty.

So, he decided, right there under the artificial heat of flashing colored lights, while half of him was dizzy with arousal. Decided that this was purely sexual, that it would remain purely transactional. He would not use Sirius like that. Ever. And even if, by some miraculous turn of events, Sirius liked Remus as more than a comfort during business travels, an out for an aggressive customer, he’d still refuse. Because then it would be worse. Then Remus would be using Sirius under the mask of feelings.

“Hey, where you go, карамель?” Sirius’ presses a hot, open mouthed kiss to Remus’ neck, “Still want dance?” His rolls his hips forward, “Or go now.”

Remus opens his eyes and blinks at the ceiling, dark and tall above, and Sirius mouths at his neck. His heart is beating hard, somewhere between pleasure and pain. “Whatever you want, Sirius.” He brings his hands up to tangle in Sirius’ hair, brushes his thumb over the chain glinting at his neck, “Whatever you want.”

He doesn’t give Sirius a chance to protest, and kisses him hard in the sea of dancers.

Chapter Text

“Fuck, карамель, fuck—“

Remus looks up, mouth wet and flushed from Sirius’ thighs. It’s almost six in the morning, and Sirius had woken him up at five with lazy kisses to his neck and a hand down his boxers. Remus had had him on his back since then. He drags a dry palm up Sirius’ torso, which is arched upward, hard muscles going taught when Remus swallows him down yet again, ready for any sign that he’s going to come, ready to pull up.

“Ngf—“ Sirius breaks into a flurry of Russian and Remus groaned around his cock, his own dick giving a pulse at the sound, “Not stop—“ Sirius pants, “Not stop, Remus—“ His voice pitches upward at the end and breaks off with a gasp as Remus sucks hard and pulls off completely, tucking his knees beneath him to stare down at Sirius. His chest is shiny with sweat. His dick is pressed tight to his stomach, so hard from Remus’ teasing that it looks like it might hurt a little. Remus reaches out and presses a palm around Sirius’ balls and feels his own stomach tighten at how hot and heavy they are. Sirius lifts his hips to press towards the touch, “Remus. Remus, I’m need.” His voice is breathy and scratchy. It floods Remus’ entire body, “Feel so good.”

“Do you want me to make you come?” Remus wraps a hand around Sirius’ dick lightly, not enough to give him any real friction. He looked too close to the edge to withstand any more. And Remus needed him to last, loved to see Sirius wanting him, if only just his touch.

“да, да, пожалуйста—“

Remus smiles a little, “Can’t understand you, Sirius.” Although he gets the general idea.

Sirius curses when Remus tightens his hand, giving him one hard stroke, but he cracks a smile, “But you like.” Sirius reached out, until he could slip his hands behind Remus’ neck, pulling him down with him, “You like most.” Sirius’ kiss was dirty, tongue licking into Remus’ mouth. He hooked one leg around Remus’ hip, efficiently flipping them over and pressed Remus into the mattress, “Hey,” He sucks a long, sloppy kiss to Remus’ neck, then his chest, “What you want breakfast?”

Remus splutters and pushes himself up onto his elbows to look down at Sirius, who grins and bites playfully at his hip, “You were begging to come a second ago, and now you’re asking me about breakfast?”

“I’m want this.” Sirius singsongs and proceeds to suck hard at the tip of Remus’ dick. Sirius moans even before Remus does.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Remus sighs out, dropping back on the pillows and throwing an arm over his eyes.

Sirius makes a displeased noise and taps at Remus’ side until he moves his arm. Sirius held his hand out on the stretch of sheets beside Remus. Palm up.

Remus nearly slid their palms together without a second thought. It would be so easy, so good to feel Sirius’ skin on his like that. To feel Sirius’ fingers squeeze around his as they moved together. But that was…

Having sex and holding hands were two very different things. That would blur lines that Remus felt were already far too smudged by his own hands.

He threw his head back into the pillows and pretended he didn’t see it. He felt both of Sirius’ hands on his hips a few seconds later. He closed his eyes and focused on the hot heat of Sirius’ mouth around him.

“карамель.“ Sirius gasped against Remus’ hip, “A lot. Close.” He climbed up Remus’ body, lips running along his skin whenever he ducked, until he reached Remus’ mouth, “I like so much.” He rolls their hips together and whimpers a little, “So hard, for so long. Need, Remus.”

And Remus knows. He’s pretty sure he’s just as hard from watching Sirius squirm, even if that had been the first attention he’s gotten himself.

“Why do you like it so much?” He asks, hooking his legs around Sirius’ hips and digging his heels into his ass, pulling them closer together.

“Is cock, Remus. Why not like? You have pretty cock.” Sirius smacks his hand around to the left of Remus for a moment before producing the lube. It’s cool against Remus’ stomach for only a second before their slide together is hot and the friction is almost non-existent, “Oh god.”

Remus feels his own mouth drop open but he wants to know, “Why, Sirius, why?”

“I like—stay before—oh—“ Sirius’ voice breaks, his hips grind against Remus’ in long, purposeful drags, “I like wait, I like please you. I like listen to you—“ And then he seems to lose his ability to form sentences and his speech becomes a varied list of Remus’ names, and small panting “ah” sounds. Remus is going to come so fucking hard with Sirius’ entire body covering his like this, with Sirius’ overstimulated cock a dark flush against his pale skin.

“Remushya, Remushya—“ Sirius’ voice was pitched suddenly low, urgent, and Remus’ cock gave one last painful ache before came with a startled shout, curling into Sirius’ body.

Sirius’ huge hands spanned his back, keeping them closed as he rocked once more and shuttered apart in Remus’ arms.

“Hey.” Sirius’ said after, voice muffled in afterglow and pillowcase.

Remus’ chest squeezes at the familiar soft opener. He turns his head from the ceiling and blinks at Sirius, “Hm?”

Sirius smiles at him, head propped on his hand, and runs his hand up Remus’ chest, dragging his fingers over his heart, “Tell me favorite things.”

Remus smiles, a little confused, “Favorite things?”

“Yes, about you. Tell.”

Remus presses his lips together in a thoughtful pout because he’s never had someone want to know more about him before. Usually clients are a little embarrassed that they’re paying for sex in the first place and don’t want to turn him into any more than the body that he is. “Oh. Um. Like, food?”

“Anything you want.”

Remus watches Sirius’ fingers on his skin as they rub back and forth softly, “Okay. But you have to tell yours too.”

Sirius grins like it’s Christmas, nodding, “Yes, okay, I tell. Good. What food you like?”

And just like that they’re playing post-sex twenty questions. “Probably pizza. There’s this place right down the block and it’s really cheap—“ It slips out as a pro to list before Remus realizes that Sirius probably doesn’t pay attention to stuff like that. “And, uh, well, good. Perfect for after a long day. The crust is thin, it isn’t greasy. I like the sausage one.”

Sirius just looks at him for a long moment, long enough for Remus to start wondering what he’s said wrong before a smile is pressing itself out of his frown and his fingers dig once into Remus’ ribs, “No way. Lie, is sweet. You order pancakes every time we morning together.”

Remus can’t help it, he laughs, squirming under the ticklish touch, “What? Why are you asking me if you know then?” He can’t deny the heat that flips in his stomach at the fact that Sirius is right, that he knows. At “morning together” too. It’s a beautiful way to put waking up together. Remus wants, it surges through him like a bullet.

“Okay, okay, sorry.” Sirius’ hand goes up to brush a piece of Remus’ bangs between his fingers, “Okay, want know mine? Is good one.”

“Mhm.”

“Is Russian. Call Piroshki. Is like…” Sirius blinks, frowning as he watches his own hand tracing Remus’ eyebrow and temple, “Oh. Not think. I don’t know…English explain.”

Remus can’t stand the upset expression on Sirius’ face and tries to think fast. “We…we could google it?”

And thats how they end up spending ten minutes looking at picture after picture and recipes for Piroshki while Sirius groans in longing. At some point Sirius had wrestled Remus’ head so that it rested in the crook of his shoulder, their sides pressed together, so they could both see Remus’ phone.

“So good, Remus.”

“They’re like little hand pies. Like toad in the hole. A little.”

“Hand pie?” Sirius asks.

“Pie. It’s dough,” He points to the picture on the recipe they’re looking at, “and then filling—meat, or if it’s sweet fruit.” He points to another picture.

“Remus like sweet.”

Remus snorts, “Okay, yes. I like peach.”

“Peach.” Sirius mumbles, then once more like he’s really trying to remember it. Remus pulls up a picture for him.

“Butt.” Sirius says immediately, and promptly throws his head but and—and snort-laughs. And it’s so weird and so—cute. Remus cranes his neck to look back at him, hopeless smile lifting one corner of his mouth, “Oh my god, your butt.”

“Wh—“ Remus splutters, but can’t really come up with much more to say.

Sirius reaches around his torso to pat at his hip, as close to Remus’ butt as he can reach, “Is good butt, don’t worry. I’m like.”

Remus smiles a little, pulling up a picture of peach pie instead, “So ridiculous.” At Sirius’ confused sound he clarifies, “You’re funny.”

“Rid…” The rest of the word sounds cloud-like and fuzzy on Sirius’ tongue. Sirius’ fingers brush his chin, lifting his face up so their eyes can meet, and smiles at Remus’ smile, “Say again?”

Remus repeats it for him, and Sirius says it back, and again and again until their mouths connect, and Remus knows his guard is cracking and falling but Sirius’ mouth his hot and slow. His smile is pressed against Remus’. His huge palms are sliding around Remus’ back and pulling him on top of him, phone falling to the mattress.

And the thing is, it doesn’t feel sexual. Sirius isn’t hard against him or getting there. He’s just…kissing Remus. Feeling his skin.

“забавный.” Sirius mumbles, “Funny.”

“Zabavnyy.” Remus stumbles. And Sirius—Sirius shutters a bit. Remus’ chest feels hot. He bites his lip against a grin, “Da?”

“да.” Sirius’ voice sounds a little hoarse, “да, yes.”

Sirius smiles then, running a warm palm down the length of Remus’ back, “You like so much.”

Sirius is referring to his Russian. Remus knows that. But Remus presses his face into Sirius’ neck, settling in the warmth, and pretends, for a moment, that he’s allowed to like everything. “Yeah.”

“I’m like that you like.” Sirius sighs out, chest rising and falling beneath Remus, and noses into Remus’ hair.

~

Remus is pulling his t-shirt on when Sirius pokes his toe into his calf from where he’s still sprawled on the bed.

“Hey, карамель?”

“Hey, Sirius?” Remus sends him a smile, tugging the hem of his shirt into place.

“Here. For you, not forget.”

Remus looks down at Sirius’ hands, smile faltering and tight at the thick wad of bills there, “Oh. Thank you.” He’s never wanted so much money so little in his entire life, “Uh, yeah, thanks.”

Sirius makes a soft sound, “What wrong? Remus?”

“What? Nothing.” Remus focuses every once of energy he has on schooling his expression, “Nothing.” But he can’t for the life of him think of what to say, “Did you want to set another date? Or, uh, time?” He folds the bills carefully into his wallet, “Another time.”

“I’m not know schedule for sure next weeks.” Remus looks up and can’t help but laugh at the pout adorning Sirius’ full lips, “But I’m call? I can call, yes?”

Remus nods, “Yeah, of course. Any time.” Please, he hates that his brain adds.

~

James slides into the chair across from Remus at the Starbucks down the street from his flat.

“Do you also notice a lightening of the tip jar by the time its time to collect? And, theoretically, a conveniently already absent Mr. Boss man?”

Remus snorts, “Are you accusing Slughorn of stealing tips?”

James looks at him over the brim of his dark roast with raised eyebrows, “You don’t think so?”

Remus shakes his head, “I’m confused why you think it’s even a theoretical. He’s definitely shorting us.”

James waves his arms so violently his chair actually scoots a little, “I—yes! Okay, good. Okay, it’s not just—right. What do we do?”

Remus shrugs with a sigh, staring down into his tea, “I mean…get to the jar first? We can’t exactly just outright accuse him.”

James rests a cheek on his hand, “Yeah…” He stares out the window as he thinks, “Yeah. Fuck it, I don’t know. How’s the window?”

Remus takes a long sip.

“Remus, fucking hell. You’re going to freeze, Jesus Christ.”

“I—“ Remus splutters, “It’s not that cold.”

James tilts his head, “Really? Rea—okay, let me just check the weather, then.” He took his phone out then stopped pointing a finger at Remus, “Wait, no, I fucking know it rained last night, Lils left the window open—“

“James, stop, I’m fine.”

“What about all that cash that bloke gives you, huh? Sirius what’s-his-fuck.” James curls his hands back around his mug, leaning forward.

Remus sags back in his chair, “You know that goes towards classes. I want to go to University one day, James, I need to save as much as I can.”

“You won’t be going to University if you freeze to death in the night! God, just—Remus.” His eyes are wide and warmly hazel behind his glasses, “Please come stay with me and Lils. Please.”

“Stop asking me that.” Remus fiddles with the tag of his tea, “I—that’s so hard for me, James. Come on. You know that.”

“I don’t give a shit if it’s hard for you if you aren’t safe. Remus, seeing you in that fucking dump is hard for me.” James cursed again, “What the fuck are you looking at?” He went to turn and Remus’ hand flew out and caught the neck of his sweater.

“No, don’t. Don’t look, don’t look. Stop, pretend you’re talking to me.” Remus’ heart felt like it was in his throat.

“Wh—“ James shook his head at him, looking bewildered, and flicked his hand off his sweater, “I am talking to you. Remus, what’s happening?”

What’s happening was that Sirius had just stepped into the line. He had a long, forest-green wool coat on and his curls just peaking out from beneath his white beanie. His dress pants were grey, his shoes were shiny black, and Remus sort of wanted to die because he was right there.

“No—“ James sucked in a breath and leaned forward, “Do you see…is one of your guys here?”

“They’re not my guys.” Remus hissed, “And yes.”

A grin broke out over James’ face, “Oh my god, it’s Sirius. It’s Sirius, I can tell, fuck, Re, please let me look. Please, please—“

“Fine.” Remus sat up straight, looking firmly at his cup, “Slowly. Don’t be obvious about it. Green jacket.”

He watches out of the corner of his eye as James very slowly turns in his chair.

And shoots back around.

“He’s looking, he’s looking, he sees you, fuck—“

And Remus can’t help it. He looks. And their eyes lock almost instantly.

And Remus can’t help it. He smiles. Because Sirius looks good in a coffee shop, looks good in that coat, looks good. Because Sirius is good.

Sirius blinks once, lips parting. Remus thinks he’s going to smile, can almost feel the way his eyes crinkle and how he licks over his bottom lip right before he grins.

Then he’s tripping for the door in the next second, nearly knocking a woman holding a small toddler down in his wake. Remus cranes his neck until his dark coat disappears into a black car. He doesn’t look back as he gets in. He just shuts the door.

Remus swallows hard.

“Re…”

He turns in his seat, white-knuckles his tea, “Well, that was him.”

James presses a hand over his forearm, “Fuck. Remus, that was shitty of him—”

“No, I expected it. It’s fine.” He laughs—a little wetly—and pushes his chair back to go throw his teabag out, “No one wants to see their prostitute outside of work, do they?”

“Remus—“

He goes to the straw station with the garbage before James can say more, just needing a moment. His throat is so tight, he’s almost worried something’s wrong, that maybe his breaths will just stop coming if he stopped trying so hard to get them through his lungs. He drops his tea bag in the bin and takes a long sip from his cup.

“Sirius?” The barista calls out.

This is how it’s suppose to be. This is what he’d prepared himself for. The drop. It was a business relation. Sirius obviously wanted it to stay that way. Or he just wanted things on his terms. Was willing to go out with Remus if it benefitted him. Buy him a fancy suit to take him to a party to get someone off his back. Buy him dinner, let him shower, all behind closed doors. Offer to fix his window—why? Why to all of it? Why the nicknames? Why the long nights together that was more sleeping in each other’s arms than sex?

What did he expect Remus to do?

“Caramel Latte for Sirius?” The barista sounded a little more annoyed this time.

Remus walked back to the table and turned his phone off for good measure.

Chapter Text

“Ah. Hey, Remus. Think you maybe at work, but, um, I’m call to say…I’m call because want to meet? I’m have things, things I need say for you. If you want…okay? I mean, if I can. Please, really not want have to say over phone. Might say wrong, not sound good.”

There’s a long pause in the phone message after that, and then,

“Okay, bye.”

And there are about seven more after it, all a few days apart, all nearly the same. Remus has listened to three of them while laying on his bed. The other ones are full of Sirius asking to meet until he reaches number six. It’s time-stamped for 2:22 AM and Sirius is just…talking.

“I’m bed now.” There’s a long release of breath, like he really had just lied down, “Long day. You know, ah…Fish and ship? Not ship…” There’s mumbling that Remus loves so much it hurts, “Chip.” Sirius presses the “ch” sound and laughs a little—a little sadly, “Was good. Never have before. They have sweet, ah, sweet thing go on top, not know name.”

“Sauce.” Remus says to the ceiling.

“Anyway, you probably like. Not most sweet but it has little…sweet things.” He groans in the way he does when he’s tired of trying to explain a word without knowing the word, “I’m think you would like. We get one day, if you answer call.”

And then the last one, from just yesterday.

“Remus, hi, is me. Ah, Sirius. I…карамель, please, I’m really not have right words. Not over phone. Please. I’m want meet but, of course, you not want…I’m stop call phone. I promise. Not want you to not like. I’m always want—want what you want, карамель. Always.”

It clicks off.

Remus puts the phone down on the mattress. It’s bare and his sheets are still all wadded up in the huge bag he takes to the laundromat. He really should get up and make his bed. He should get up and go pound on his landlord’s door about his window. He didn’t have that many free days, and the ones he did needed to be used. He has a life to get back to and instead he’s sitting here listening to messages that only make him sad. He’s not even angry anymore, just slumped under the fact that he was right about something he wanted so badly to be wrong about.

want what you want.

Remus wanted to cry so much he laughed.

He’d had two weeks to think things through. Two weeks since Sirius looked at him like he couldn’t believe Remus existed outside of a hotel room—

Remus closed his eyes and sighed. Maybe Sirius hadn’t exactly looked at him like that, but it felt pretty damn close to it in Remus’ mind. He kept seeing over and over again, in his mind, the way Sirius’ dark, open eyes had shut off abruptly. How he’d turned and just went. Remus hadn’t even recognized him like that. He didn’t think he ever wanted to see Sirius like that again.

The worst part was that Sirius sounded the exact same over the phone and it didn’t match that last expression at all. He sounded warm and soft, words rolling in his mouth—if not a little distressed.

Remus rubbed his hands over his face and rolled himself off the bed, grabbing his sheets and ballooning them over the mattress with a flick of his wrists that was just a tad too hard. He made himself settle down after that. He didn’t need to break anything that was perfectly fine.

This was perfectly fine. Or it would be. Sirius just didn’t like to see him outside of—of their business together. Remus could deal with that. He sat back down on the half stretched sheet and picked up his phone again. He could deal with that. It meant Sirius was pretending just like he was—only they weren’t pretending the same things. Sirius could pretend Remus only existed in the bubble of a room and a bed, and Remus could pretend he didn’t want Sirius for anything other than money. This was perfectly fine.

The phone had barely rung when Sirius picked up.

“Remus.” His voice was breathless, hot pants coming through the speaker that made Remus shift a little despite the situation, “Remus, hi. Hi, Remus.”

“Hi.” Remus swallowed, “Sorry about—missing your calls.” He ran a hand over his face, wincing.

“No, no worries, most okay. I—“

“So, you want to arrange a time to meet up?”

There were a few beats of silence, and then, “Well…yes. Yes, of course. Thank you.”

“No need for thanks, Sirius, I’m happy to.” Remus felt so hollow his words rung around his throat, “Same place, I’m guessing? What’s a time that works for you?”

“You come now? If okay? I’m same hotel, not have meeting before day—day after tomorrow.” Sirius is still panting and Remus is beginning to wonder what the hell he was doing.

“Are you alright?”

“What? Oh! I’m run. Yes, fine. I’m just run. Done now, ready for you, any time.” He sounds so eager. Remus can feel that same pull in his chest and hopelessly wishes for those strings to snap.

“Okay. I’ll be there soon.”

~

Sirius had obviously just showered when he opened the door. His hair was in a half-dried state and there were patches of his gray t-shirt that were damp and clung to his chest. He was wearing leggings.

Of all days. Remus thought, and looked away from how they hugged everywhere.

Sirius stepped to the side with a small, nervous looking smile. Remus thought maybe his shoulders were a little more slumped than usual. Remus thought maybe his own shoulders were a little more slumped too.

“I’m order pancakes.” Sirius’ voice is quieter than he’d ever heard it too, “If you want. I’m know dinnertime, but…”

Sex. Remus reminds himself. That’s what Sirius is paying him for, that’s what he’ll do. The rest, the dinners and the talks and the favors, he doesn’t want it if it’s just for show, if it’s just a favor for sex. Sirius is a good person, Remus appreciates—he loves—that Sirius cares if he’s comfortable. The problem is that he’s more than comfortable. He’s at home. And this isn’t his home. Sirius isn’t his home.

“I already ate, but thank you.” He didn’t, “What do you want to do tonight?” Remus didn’t look at Sirius as he slid his jacket off, draping it over one of the big chairs in the living room space of the suite. Then his hands moved to his button-down, starting to unclasp the top few buttons. He’d gotten to the third when larger hands cupped over his.

“Remus, what—no, I need talk.” Sirius frowns, ducking in an attempt to get Remus to look at him, “Need to say about…about coffee store.”

Remus looks towards the television. He can see their full reflections in the huge, dark surface. Sirius’ larger form standing close to his, the bow of his back, the swell of his shoulders and ass. He thinks maybe he can see the concentrated, sad expression, too.

“There’s nothing really to say, Sirius. Don’t worry about it, a lot of clients react like that if they happen to see me at random. I’m used to it.”

Remus watches Sirius’ reflection stare at him, mouth parting. “I’m not understand…react…react like what? You know how I’m think? Remus you not talk to me forever, not nothing.”

Remus’ hands feel shaky, but he tries his best to shrug as casually as he can, “It’s awkward to see me in public. You pay me for sex, I understand why you wouldn’t want to come say hi. I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Some guys even tell me they won’t say hello ahead of time. Really, it’s okay. What do you want to—“

“Stupid not say hi. Stupid of them.” Sirius’ voice is low, “If treat you bad, Remushya, you have tell me.”

Remus moves his hands away from Sirius’, dropping them to hold the back of the chair, pressing away from Sirius, “No, I don’t. It’s really not you’re problem.”

It comes out harsh. Remus feels Sirius flinch. His heart aches with it. But he’s suddenly—suddenly a little angry. Angry at Sirius for making him feel this way, making him like him when this isn’t like that. He’s seen Sirius with other people, other things. Sirius is kind to everyone, Remus isn’t special. Even though Sirius certainly makes him feel that way. Remus is the one who is suppose to be making Sirius feel special.

It’s several long moments before Sirius speaks again, and when he does, he brings his hands up to Remus’ shirt, redoing whatever buttons he’s unclasped.

“Boy you with at coffee treat you bad? You not look happy.” His voice sounds a little thunderous despite the low volume.

Remus looks at him then, a little wide-eyed. Sirius’ eyes are stormy.

“Wha—James?”

Sirius frowns and turns away, going to the bar, “I’m not want know his name, Remus.” He presses his hands to the lit marble but doesn’t reach for a bottle. His back muscles look taught beneath the fabric of his shirt, chain necklace glinting, and it makes Remus even more mad that the sight makes his neck heat.

“I—what do you care?”

Sirius lets out a laugh, low and a little wild, and turns back around, gesturing to himself, “You think I’m not care about others? I hate others. Don’t want to know name, don’t want to know how you fuck them. Don’t want to know!”

“Yeah, you made that pretty clear when you fucking bolted. It doesn’t matter, I’m here now. You can fuck me however you like. That’s why I’m here, Sirius.”

Sirius groans, “Don’t want others fuck you. I’m fuck. I’m not even want to—to fuck, I’m want ma—” Sirius gestures vaguely and its all Remus can do to follow what he’s saying, “You know? I’m not want this anymore.”

Remus swipes his jacket back up, “Then I’ll go.”

“No. No, no—“ Sirius pushes the heels of his hands against his eyes, “I’m not say right, I’m not say right.” When he looks up again his eyes are bright, “What you want, Remus? You push back, I’m not know why. I’m try—I’m want help you—“

“If people don’t stop offering me help, I’m going to lose my mind.” Remus cuts him off. His chest feels too small for his lungs, and all of James’ words are echoing through his head, now mingled with Sirius’, “I’m not some empty—pocket, Sirius, I’m a fucking person. I don’t need you to buy me nice things, I don’t need you to fix things for me. Stop trying.”

The hotel room hangs silent after that and Sirius’ eyes…Remus thinks for a second that Sirius might cry. It makes him want to back away and gather him up all at once. He said what needed to be said. He said—

“You proud. Remus.” Sirius’ voice sounds a little shot, even though neither of them were really yelling.

“What else do I have going for me?”

Sirius pulls his lower lip into his mouth, worrying it, then says, “Everything. I don’t know how you don’t see it. I want to be with you all the time, okay? When I’m away, in another part of the world, it’s—I fall asleep to you.” Sirius takes a step forward, “Remus, my favorite part of being together isn’t even the sex. It isn’t, we could spend the entire time laying in bed, fully clothed, or walking around the city, and I would be the happiest I can ever remember being. Helping you isn’t about buying you things. Helping you is about loving you.” He takes a shaky breath, “And I don’t know how to tell you that I love you because I don’t think you love me. And that—that scares me. I’m sorry that it scares me.”

Remus straightens, passing a hand over his eyes, “Sirius, that isn’t fair. I can’t understand you.”

Sirius strides back across the room, right into Remus’ space. His hand makes it mere inches from Remus’ jaw before it stops, and he switches back to English, “I’m kiss you. Is okay? Forget fight, not matter. Not angry, Remus. This can be…just like always is.”

Remus feels tears at the back of his throat as he nods, “I’m not mad either, I just…Sirius.” I’m not mad at you, I want you. Remus wanted Sirius for all the good things. His smile, his kindness, his charm. His bed head. His stupid clothes. But he also wanted him for all the reasons Sirius didn’t want people wanting him for. Protection, stability. Money. He had told Remus that himself.

“I’m say hi next time. Sorry I’m run. Run easier than stupid bad english.”

It’s a lie, it’s such a lie, but they both laugh, Remus a little wetly. And then Remus realizes that he’s crying—or certainly about to—and kisses Sirius quickly. Hard, so he doesn’t see. Sirius makes a noise into it and wraps Remus up in his arms.

Remus presses his hands up and under Sirius’ t-shirt. If he can have anything, he’ll take this. It’s familiar, but at the same time it feels…not. Sirius is pressing against him hard with his entire body. When Remus opens his eyes a little as they kiss, Sirius’ brows are drawn together.

Sirius tilts his head, licking across the seam of Remus’ lips until he opens his mouth. His hands run down over Remus’ chest until they can settle on his hips and he tugs, huffing a breath into his mouth before sliding his lips along his jaw.

“Я люблю тебя.” Sirius mumbles into his skin, sucking lightly at the skin below his ear, “карамель.”

Remus let out a breath, leaning into Sirius’ body and gripping at his hair, pulling his lips back against his skin until he could feel the words mouthed against it. He didn’t know what they meant, but maybe that was all for the better. Sirius said it twice more before breaking to tug at the back of his own shirt, revealing inch after inch of bare skin, still slightly flushed from his shower earlier. The new distance between them creates a break in their sudden momentum too, and they stare at each other for a moment, panting.

Remus almost asks what they’re doing but Sirius gives him a hard nod, “Couch.”

And Remus isn’t going to say no to that. “Yeah.”

The continuous motion fell back into place, filled and propelled by hard kisses and roaming hands. Sirius backed Remus up until he was just about to fall backwards on the couch, and then he stabilized himself with one knee on the cushions and pressed his hands to Remus’ back, one at the small, the other between his shoulders. Remus didn’t so much as fall as he was placed gently down, and the way that gentleness felt compared to how Sirius was still kissing him—hard, probably too much tongue, hot—made his head spin. He clutched at Sirius’ bare skin until he fell down on top of him, slotting their legs and hips together.

“Remus.” Sirius mumbles, and draws his knees up around Remus’ hips so he can nimbly unfasten the buttons down Remus’ chest. “Want.”

“What?” Remus asks breathlessly as Sirius’ hands smooth down his chest, over his shoulders, pushing his shirt away until he can pull it free.

Sirius just mumbles a little and leans down to suck along Remus’ chest. He works the buttons on Remus’ pants until he can slip his hand inside and cup Remus through his boxers. Remus doesn’t even have to do that much work. It’s almost obscene how well he can see the outline of Sirius’ hard dick along his thigh in those leggings. When Remus reaches out to touch it the fabric is hot.

“Why the fuck are you wearing these?” Remus pants.

Sirius gives Remus a little squeeze, breaking the suction he had going on Remus’ throat, “You not like? They comfort.”

“They’re fucking obscene.” Remus reaches around and grabs a handful of Sirius’ ass as if to prove his point, digs his palm against his length.

Sirius moans, “Not need underwear with them.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Remus’ voice pitches up at the end in a wine when Sirius leans back, even if it’s only to rid him of his pants and boxers. And then Remus is completely bare beneath Sirius and the item of clothing in question. He hooks his fingers in the tight waistband, “Off.”

Sirius sends him a little smile, still not at its brightest, and falls backwards on his back so he can kick them off—Remus helps a little, but he mostly stares. It’s hot, watching Sirius struggle with the tight material until his dick and thick thighs are revealed, and he really doesn’t know why.

Things slow way down after that. Any light in the room seems to fade into a warm blue as Sirius settles himself between Remus’ open thighs. Sirius’ eyes are dark, pupils blown in the semi-darkness, and he supports himself, forearms on either side of Remus’ head. Remus can feel where their hard-ons are pressed together between them, can feel the heat radiating from Sirius’ chest. But all he’s aware of is Sirius’ eyes looking down at him with a quiet expression, lips parted a shiny from kissing, the hallows of his cheek a dark flush. His eyes are hooded and he looks…Remus doesn’t know. Can’t place what’s there.

“I’m…you want…”

“Yeah.” Remus breathes, “Yeah, I do.”

Sirius licks his bottom lip and Remus has to lean up and kiss him again, taste him. Sirius kisses him back, letting Remus lick into his mouth while his hand moves down to swipe over Remus’ entrance with a dry thumb.

“Wallet.” Remus mumbles, shivering at the feeling. It was alarming how often clients didn’t have the necessities when they were the ones expecting Remus.

Sirius hums and breaks the kiss to reach down to the floor, fumbling with Remus’ jeans. While he’s at it, Remus takes the opportunity to mouth over the smooth skin of Sirius’ shoulder. It’s salty-sweet and warm. Sirius’ muscles bunch and tense beneath his mouth as he pushes himself back up, packet of lube and condom in hand. Remus heart beats hard as Sirius preps him, fingers gentle but long. He arches into it whenever Sirius crooks his finger upward, feeling hot and needy beneath Sirius’ gaze. He reaches down and grips Sirius’ cock, thumbing along the vein in time to Sirius’ thrusts.

Finally, Sirius is pushing up onto his knees again, cock flushed in front of him. Remus watches him tear the condom wrapper, watches his dark eyelashes against his cheeks, his fingers and the parting of his lips as he roles the condom onto himself. He gives himself a few pumps, lets out a shaky breath, and looks up at Remus. He’s a bronze sculpture, really.

“We…” He places a gentle hand around the curve of Remus’ hip, “We do like this? Try new?”

Remus knows its a bad idea. He should shake his head, get on his stomach. But Sirius still has that look in his eyes. A soft longing. And Remus just nods. He holds his arms out. His heart cracks in half.

Sirius pressing against him again, wrapping his arms around Remus’ back between the cushions while Remus’ circle beneath his shoulders, stroking at his neck. Remus bites his lip when he feels Sirius nudge at his entrance.

“Remushya…” Sirius says, and then presses the head of his cock into Remus, “Remus, Remus…” He pushes his face into Remus’ neck, and Remus can feel him panting there.

It feels so good, the press and the heat, and Remus holds his breath, holds onto Sirius, while Sirius works himself in slow circles. Until their hips are pressed together and Remus feels like he never wants to be separated from Sirius again.

“Okay?” Sirius breathes, pulling back just enough to brush their lips together, “Okay?”

“Yeah. You?”

Sirius nods minutely, “Best.” His voice is so quiet. It’s shaking and Remus doesn’t know how to feel, can’t tell if it’s from pleasure, or what.

He passes his fingers through Sirius’ hair a few times and Sirius’ eyes close, he tilts into it, “You’re sure, love?”

And fuck, Remus doesn’t know where that came from. He’s so fucking careful about pet names, so careful.

Sirius lets out a low whine and presses his hips forward, making Remus gasp. Sirius retrieves one of his arms from around Remus’ middle and presses it against the couch’s arm rest behind him for leverage. The other keeps Remus close while his hips make slow grinds forward. Remus knows this feels different. He puts it up to the fact that they’re facing each other, that he can watch each minute movement and change in Sirius’ expression, just as Sirius watches his. Remus realizes there’s so much he’s never seen before. Maybe he got glimpses here and there while they rubbed off on each other or Remus blew him, but Remus has never seen Sirius…like this. In this sort of light. It’s painfully personal and all Remus wants to do is curl into the soft sounds of Sirius breathing, the slow nuzzles he presses to Remus’ neck and kisses to Remus’ cheeks and jaw.

Remus has never felt so fucking worshipped. And he lets himself think about it for a second. How would it be if he could call Sirius “love” like that? What if Sirius would let him?

“More?” Remus mumbled, because he needs to stop thinking, he needs Sirius.

Sirius makes a noise low in his throat and rests his weight on his knees so he can pull Remus’ legs around his waist. He pushes in hard and Remus’ head falls back. His fingertips dig into Sirius’ shoulder blades and he holds on as much as he can. He presses his heels against Sirius’ thighs and feels as Sirius’ head dips into his neck, breathing him in as he moves.

They don’t talk after that. Remus feels completely surrounded, like Sirius is speaking to him with every brush of his skin. It’s nice, it feels incredible, but Remus misses the sound of Sirius’ voice, Russian or English. He misses laughing even in the depths of their pleasure, misses Sirius’ little comments, little sighs. Sirius is almost completely quiet, head tucked downward and away, holding onto Remus for what feels like dear life.

Sirius comes first, shaking when he spills into the condom. Remus tries to follow, he really does, but something feels off. Even when Sirius stays in place and warm, nestling a hand between them to take Remus.

“Okay, карамель? What need?”

Remus’ throat suddenly feels thick again because he knows what’s wrong and hates it. He can’t do this to Sirius, can’t make what he’s paying for worse just because he doesn’t feel how Remus does.

“I—I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Sirius pulls his head up then, eyes looking vaguely alarmed, “What? Sorry? Why—“

“Can you talk?” And Remus is crying, he knows Sirius can see that he’s crying, it’s right there in his fucking voice. It’s not even to get off, he just needs to hear the comfort that always seems to fill Sirius’ words.

Sirius shushes him softly, “Remus. Yes, yes, of course, not sorry. Remushya, not cry.” Sirius’ voice sounds a little thick itself, “I’m not mad, never mad, Remus, no worry. Relax.” His fingers are warm and tight around Remus and his other hand cradles the back of Remus’ neck, “I’m take care, карамель. Take care so much, you come for me, just for me.”

And it feels good. Remus feels a little ridiculous because when he lets his head fall back into Sirius’ palm he can feel a tear track over his temple. And then Sirius’ mouth is there, kissing the salt away, his palm stroking Remus slow and tight. He’s full too, and spares half a thought to why Sirius hasn’t pulled out yet before Sirius is talking again and it’s all Remus can hear.

“I’m think about, all time. This.” Then he’s sucking at Remus’ neck, hard, definitely leaving a mark. He scrapes his teeth over various parts of Remus’ skin again and again, and it seems to drag on until Remus is sure his neck is covered with small, shining bruises, “You not need worry, Remushya. Ever, if with me. No worries, I’m take care, I’m promise, I’m take care.” Remus squeezes his eyes shut, and suddenly he realizes Sirius is hard again inside him, that he’s been making slow grinding motions and he can’t breathe. “Love this,” Sirius whispers, “Love being in you. Love—“ He cuts off though, when Remus makes a sound, high and louder than he meant to. Sirius lets out a shaking breath, curses in English, and his hand speeds up. “So close to you.” He presses in hard, and Remus breaks between them. He feels a similar heat from Sirius within him and then their chests are pressed together, panting and hot.

And for a second, everything feels normal. It feels like it did. It feels like Sirius is about to start patting his hands over Remus’ body and making those stupid appreciative humming noises that he does, and then offer him pancakes, or dinner, or whatever it is he does.

Remus wants that so bad. He wants it so, so terribly.

But he forces the words out.

“I should go.”

Sirius’ entire body stiffens on top of him. Remus feels his throat shift as he swallows hard and takes a long breath. He only just raises his head, looking at Remus with a soft, somber gaze. He sits up slowly, smoothing his hand over Remus’ hip as he pulls out carefully. Without a word, he gets up and walks bare into the master bedroom, reemerging with a warm towel. He wipes Remus’ stomach carefully, then goes right back to the bedroom. He reemerges with sweatpants on and sits back down on the couch stiffly. He doesn’t look at Remus and Remus takes that as his cue to get dressed as well.

It’s painfully quiet the entire time, right from Remus pulling on his boxers to the last button of his shirt. His chest hurts. He wants to go back to being on the couch, when they were so close it felt like anything other than that ecstatic feeling didn’t exist.

He stands awkwardly with his jacket over one arm. “I…I’ll see you soon.”

Sirius lets out a breath and goes to the desk where his bag is. While he’s rummaging in it, Remus looks at his back. It’s smooth, and broad, and Remus can see where his fingers had dug in.

He fucking hurts.

“Not forget.” Sirius shuffles back over, holding out the familiar wad of cash. Remus goes to take it and Sirius holds it back a little, “Remus.”

Remus looks up at him, and almost flinches at the soft gaze looking back down at him.

Sirius shakes his head, “Can’t figure out, Remus.” He reaches for Remus’ hand, takes his palm, folds his fingers over the money and leans down to brush his lips over Remus’ temple. Remus closes his eyes, “Won’t know unless you tell me.”

Remus doesn’t remember how he left, but he remembers crying while walking. Because Sirius is so worried about people using Remus, but how does he not see how afraid Remus is of using him?

The window tarp is ripped when he gets home, but he just lies back down on his bed, shoes and all, and lets the cold air in.

Chapter Text

“He…wait. Say again?”

Remus sighed, “He invited me to…” He looks down at the text Sirius had sent him with flight details, “Turks and Caicos? It’s an island, I think. He’s there for his company’s retreat. And he wants me to come.”

“Mate.” James let out a laugh, “Yes.” Remus shoots him a look, “What, you said you guys spent the night together. I thought he said sorry.”

“I…Well, yeah, we did, he did, but. But…” Remus rubbed a hand over his face, really not wanting to tell James the whole story.

“But?”

Remus looked towards the counter of the coffee shop, shifting a little at remembering the look on Sirius’ face, “He thought you were one of my clients.”

James chokes on his coffee, coughing for a moment and waving a hand at Remus, “You—“ He coughs again, then clears his throat so loud the girl next to them reading shoots him a glance, “That’s why he stormed out?”

Remus nodded, “Some guys don’t like acknowledging that they’re not the only ones I do this with. You don’t think it’ll…I don’t know. Being in a hotel for the night is one thing. What the fuck is it going to do to me when I’m with him, sleeping with him, for two weeks straight? That…” Remus sighed. It’d be really fucking hard, is what he should say. It’d be really fucking nice is what his body is screaming. He would make money, he would be with Sirius in…in whatever way Sirius wanted.

Remus expected James to tell him to spare him the details then. He expected James to wave him off.

What he did not expect was for James to reach across the table and flick him in the cheek like they were still in fifth grade.

“I—Hey—“

“You’re such a fucking idiot. You are such a fucking idiot, oh my god.”

Remus does his best to wrap his tea bag around the already slightly soggy wooden stirrer in an attempt to squeeze the excess water. It wobbles on the stick as he tries to get it safely to the napkin he’s laid out, “Okay, thanks, why?”

“He’s jealous. Sirius was jealous of me.”

Remus looks up. The teabag falls on the table with a wet little squish. “Shut up.”

James digs his fingers into his hair and rests his elbows on the table a little to hard, nearly dislodging his drink, “Remus. Jesus fucking Christ.”

“I—“ Remus’ chest feels entirely too tight, “Why? I mean.” Remus flicks James back, just to get him to stop looking at him like that, “He’s nice to everything.”

“What does that even mean? Remus, I’m a perfectly nice person—sometimes—and I still am capable of loving Lily.”

Remus shakes his head, “Yeah, no, but you act differently with Lily. I can tell you love her. Sirius—Sirius would give the bellboy the food he just brought up for himself if the bloke said he was hungry, I mean…No. I don’t think so.” Remus shakes his head again, “James, I’ve seen guys run away with they see me. I’ve never seen anyone run away because they like me.”

James looks at him from across the table, but his usual sad expression—the one Remus is used to being directed towards him—looks a little different. It’s not all together sad. “Sirius has been the first enough times since you met him already. Hasn’t he?” He leans back in his chair, spreading his hands, “Why can’t he be the first for this?”

~

Sirius insists on picking him up for the drive to the airport, is the problem.

“Can’t I just meet you there?” Remus worries the t-shirt he’s rolling into his small duffle bag, phone sandwiched between his ear and shoulder. He stares down at the bed. He barely has two pairs of nice shorts, let alone a swimsuit. He knows he wouldn’t even have to get the words fully out before Sirius would buy him one—maybe five, given his history—but…that’s hard.

“Easier, Remus. Special plane. Why not like?” Sirius is rummaging around on his end of the phone too. He isn’t even in London right now, but his apartment in New York. Remus would kill to see where Sirius lives. He wants to see how he designed his own house, wants to see all the little things that make it his own. All the things a hotel room can’t offer.

“I…” Remus drops the shirt into the bag. He doesn’t know why he’s rolling them. There aren’t really enough to fit snuggly and it will all just fall apart. “I don’t know. I don’t…” He takes a deep breath, “I don’t live…in a nice place. It’s embarrassing.”

The rustling on the other end of the line pauses, and there are a few painful beats of silence before all of it’s washed out of Remus’ mind with a single word.

“Remushya.” Sirius lets out a breath, “You can trust me. Never need feel embarrass. We…we meet at same Starbucks? Is okay?”

Remus lets out a breath and nods into the phone, “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

“Will be fun. Promise, really…really want you be happy, okay? We swim, eat, drink, see nice sunset. Be warm. So cold here.”

Remus lets out a little laugh, glancing at his window, “Right.”

“Is okay?”

Remus can’t help but smile a little at the eagerness in Sirius’ voice. Even if James’ words are playing in his head. Even if why did you invite me? are playing in his head. “Yeah, of course. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Five o’clock.”

“Okay.”

“Bye, Remushya.”

Remus holds the phone with both hands, “Bye.”

He sighs and flips the phone onto the bed before falling down after it on his stomach. His bag is digging into his ribs but he can’t bring himself to care. He calls James.

“Pri-vet.”

Remus pulls the phone away from his ear, blinks at it, then replaces it, “What the—did you learn that so you could fucking answer the phone?”

“Absolutely. And it had the exact desired effect.”

“James.”

James sighed, “Okay, yes, I’m listening.”

“I shouldn’t go.”

“Oh, so you don’t want him to declare his love?”

“James.”

“You don’t want to fuck him on your private beach?”

“James!”

“No, Remus, listen to me. Listen. Do you love him? You’ve never actually said it. Do you love Sirius?”

Remus licked over his dry lips, pressing his forehead to the mattress. He didn’t even have to think about it. The words were right there on the tip of his tongue. And what first came to mind wasn’t the ridiculous five pairs of swim trunks Sirius would no doubt buy him. It wasn’t the insanely expensive rooms they stayed in. It was the way he took stray curls of Remus’ hair between his fingertips. And the warm palm against the top of his spine. Pulling his sweatshirt over Remus’ head in the morning. And as the little things filled Remus’ chest rather than the big, for the first time, he felt okay about his answer.

“Yes.” Remus whispered into the phone, then louder, “Yes. It hurts sometimes.”

“Remus. There you go. Yeah, it does hurt sometimes. Lily’s so fucking beautiful, so funny, I mean what the hell am I suppose to do with all that, you know?”

“How could he want me, James?” And, there it was, really. The most base truth of it all. His voice shook through the words, but he finally said them.

James’ laugh was soft and sad through the speakers, “Re…” Remus could picture his exact face, the hand running through his hair, “Re, you’re always going on about people pitying you, but…Fuck, Re. Sometimes it’s just you pitying yourself. You know? I…”

Remus blinked against the burn in his eyes, but nodded into the mattress, “I…I don’t know why. My mum and dad, I…I mean they didn’t want—“ The words choked off, “So, why would Sirius—”

“You deserve to be happy, Re.” James’ own voice sounded a little thick, “God, fuck your parents for making you think otherwise, fuck them. It’s got nothing to do with wealth of any kind, any sort of difference, it’s just…it’s how it is. It’s two people loving each other. You deserve to be with someone you love.”

Remus squeezes his eyes shut once and watches a dark spot appear on the sheets below him. He sniffles thickly and lets out a breath, “Yeah.”

James’ laugh is watery this time, “Yeah? You finally trying to believe me?”

Remus laughs too, but more tears come out, “Yeah.”

“Go with him, Re. Really, I…I think it’s all going to be fine. More than fine.”

“Yeah?” It seems to be all Remus can choke out right now. He loves James so much.

“Yeah, Re.”

~

Sirius has to touch Remus’ shoulder, making him jump away from staring at his phone before Remus sees him. He turns fast and—and grins, widely, in a way that probably completely throws Sirius for a loop after the way they left things.

Sirius blinks at him, a smile of his own growing just because of Remus’, “Hey.”

“Hey, Sirius.”I love you. When he realizes what his face is doing, it automatically turns sheepish. He pushes his hands into his pockets, “Hi. Thanks for—meeting here.” I love you so much.

Sirius nods, eyeing Remus like—like he knows something, one corner of his mouth higher than the other. “Of course.” He leans down and scoops up Remus’ bag before Remus can do anything. He frowns, shaking it a little and feeling how light it is, “Remus, we go for two week.”

“I—“ Remus flushes, “I don’t really…have much that works.”

Sirius’ cheeks color a little, like he’s realizing what he said. He shoulders the bag and offers Remus a quiet smile, “No worries, we find.”

Remus ducks into the cold wind as they cross the short distance to the car, resisting the urge to hook his fingers around the little button at the back of Sirius’ coat that…doesn’t seem to have a purpose. The car is already warm and, frankly, huge. There are wide leather seats facing each other in pairs, an ice bucket and glasses. There’s a thick divider between the driver and them, one that Sirius knocks on twice to get them moving before settling into the seat beside Remus.

They look at each other in the dim back seat, and the words are right there.

“I’m glad you say you come with me.”

Remus fiddles with the smooth leather of the arm rest between them, “Me too. I…I haven’t had a vacation in…” Remus snorts a little, “Well, ever.”

Sirius’ eyes widen a little, “Remus.” Then a smile is breaking over his face, “Remus, I’m make best. We have best time, okay? I’m have company breakfast maybe few time but no more. Do nothing but eat and sit in sun.”

Remus licks his lips and keeps his eyes on the arm rest, “And…”

Sirius stills a little. He’s silent for a moment. Then there’s soft fingers pressing Remus’ chin up to meet his eyes, “Only if want. You tell me everything, okay? No cry, make me worry I’m do bad thing.”

Remus wraps his fingers around Sirius’ wrist, thumb dragging over his pulse point, “No, Sirius—I—I do want it. I…Things were hard last time.” Sirius makes a little noise, maybe another apology, but Remus doesn’t let him speak, “But I know what I want now.”

Sirius’ eyes flick down to his mouth and back, “Yes?”

Remus lets out a breath, tightens his hand around Sirius’, “Sirius—“

The divider lowers just a little, making them both jump, “Sir, here we are. Can I get your bags for you?”

Remus wants to die. Just a little.

It takes a long moment for Sirius to answer, “Yes. Thank you. I get bags.” And then he’s out of the car and holds his hand out for Remus. He gives it a squeeze before he lets go to retrieve their bags from the trunk.

~

Remus freezes when he steps onto the plane. He really just wants to laugh, maybe cry a bit, because how can he tell Sirius anything now without him thinking at least a little it’s because of all this?

“Where’s, like, the rest of your company?”

Sirius looks up from where he was tapping away on his phone, “What? Who knows. My plane.”

Remus blinks at him. He should have guessed, but…

“So, it’s just us?”

Sirius’ eyebrow raises a little, along with the corner of his mouth, “Just us.”

Remus is in the process of nodding when there are two hands lightly on his shoulders.

“Hello, Mr. Lupin, may I take your coat for the journey?”

Remus turns and there’s an air hostess behind him with a gentle smile.

“Oh. Uh, yeah. I mean, thanks, sure.”

She disappears somewhere in the very back of the plane.

“Sirius, how big is this thing?”

Sirius sets his phone down and grins, “Just right, no? Hey, sit, get comfy. Vacation start now, Remus.”

Remus bites his lip against his smile and takes the open window seat across from Sirius. They look at each other as the engine begins to rumble beneath them, the walls humming with energy.

Sirius stretches out his long legs and crosses them between Remus’ spread ones. He laces his fingers over his stomach and tilts his head to the side, “You know mile-high club?”

Remus’ eyes widen and he splutters, quickly glancing around, “Sirius.”

Sirius cracks up.

Remus kicks at his feet, “You can’t just say that. I don’t want every person working here knowing we…we…”

“Might fuck on plane?”

Remus covers his face with his hands and slouches down in his seat. Sirius’ laughter gets louder. Remus loves him.

“Can I get you and your guest anything to drink, Mr. Black?” The air hostess is back, and she’s holding warm towels.

Remus takes one and tries not to groan at how warm it is on his cold hands. Sirius gets them both some water and starts to try to ask for some type of food but can’t seem to remember the name.

“Ah, you know. Tiny.” The woman nods but doesn’t look any more clear as to what Sirius is trying to say.

Sirius sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Ah. Okay.” He looks at Remus silently for a second, then Remus watches as his eyes slide slowly downward, then back up. He looks down again, right at Remus’ crotch, and raises his eyebrows pointedly, “Is small name, Remus. Can’t remember but know is small name.”

Remus has to physically bite his cheek—hard—to keep from bursting out laughing. He opens his mouth and smiles at the woman, “Mr. Black would like some nuts.”

The air hostess, seemingly having missed the entire exchange, just smiled, “Oh, yes, of course.”

When they’re alone again Remus kicks Sirius in the shin, “You’re ridiculous.”

Sirius’ grin is lazy, his jaw sharp as he tilts his head back against the seat and looks at Remus with dark eyes, “Ridiculous.”

Remus bites his lip against his smile and looks out the window, desperately trying to ignore all those soft vowels in there.

“We wait till in sky, hm?” The toe of Sirius’ sneaker nudges at Remus’ calve.

“Hm.” Remus hums back, pointedly keeping his gaze fixed out the window, and Sirius laughs again.

~

Dinner was steak frites and ice cream sundaes. Remus loves this plane. He loves the little smear of chocolate sauce on the corner of Sirius’ mouth. He loves Sirius.

They moved to a longer booth-like section of the plane to eat and sat pressed together from side to thigh to knee. Sirius’ arm is thrown lazily across the booth behind Remus’ shoulders, and his fingers occasionally brushed beneath the neck of his sweater.

“Still hungry, or okay?” Sirius reaches for the bottle of wine he had ordered and pours himself a bit more, “Want some?” Sirius’ thumb brushes his skin and he smiled, “Or wait for beach cocktail? Have to have one, Remus, so good. Sweet. You like.”

Remus steals a fry from Sirius’ plate, having eaten all his own, “I’ll try a sip of yours.”

Sirius hums, wrist curling so his fingers can reach Remus’ jaw, “Sound good. I’m share everything with you.”

Remus sighs, nodding, “I know you will.”

Sirius’ smile softens and he pulls Remus a little closer, “Okay? Big sigh.”

Remus fiddles with his napkin, “How much work will you have to do?”

Sirius sighs this time, “Yes. Good thing to sigh about. Phone call here and there. Might sketch a little, but that fun. One or two breakfast with company.” Seeing Remus’ face, he laughs, “You not need to come.”

“I—I would if you wanted me to.” Remus scrunches his nose, “If you really wanted me to.”

Sirius rolls his eyes, “Not make you come to early breakfast.” Then he leans in, “Would rather come back to you still in bed.”

Remus’ entire body flames hot at that image. Sirius tugging off whatever button down he was forced to wear, but not before Remus could appreciate how it stuck to his skin at the small of his back. His clothes would follow, his shoes, until he was nothing but smooth, tanned skin and familiar shapes. Remus blinks at Sirius, realizing he hadn’t answered yet. He smiles down at his food and nods.

Sirius’ thumb strokes against his neck, “Tired? Sorry get late flight. Meetings all day. Want finish work before go away. I…”

Sirius hesitates for so long that Remus looks up.

Sirius wets his bottom lip nervously, “Happy come, Remus?”

Remus is a little surprised at the unsureness in Sirius’ voice, although he knows he shouldn’t be. He’d left Sirius cold after the last time they’d seen each other. But Sirius had kissed him goodbye anyway. Remus had chalked that up to his kind nature.

“Are you happy you invited me?” Remus asks, “I’m happy to do anything for you.” It’s a little bit of a scary truth.

Sirius sends him a pleading look, “Remus, not want you to do things for me only. Not—Can’t be only reason. I’m tell you this before.”

Remus shifts towards him so his knee is pulled to his chest and he can press his palm to Sirius’ chest, “I’m not saying it like that. I just—I just mean I’m—happy. To be here.” He laughs a little, rolling his eyes at himself, “So, yeah, I’m glad I came.”

Sirius’ expression shifts to one of extreme caution and he glances down at his chest, his heart, Remus’ hand covering it. “Just glad?” He asks slowly.

Remus looks at him hard for a few moments, silently cursing the language barrier. He thought he could decode Sirius fairly well by now, but right in this moment, he could mean anything. “I…yes? I’m happy, if that’s what you—I mean, I’m having a great time. I…I love being with you.” Sirius’ expression goes a little blank and Remus scrambles to keep up, “I—I’m sorry.” He’s not even sure what he’s apologizing for. He presses his palm firmer against Sirius’ chest until he can feel his heart beating beneath it. Sirius’ chest moves steadily. The pulse speeds up when he inhales and slows way down when he lets out his breath. Remus is concentrating on that decreasing beat when Sirius’ mouth captures his own, warm and dry from the plane air.

“Never be sorry.” He runs his lips over Remus’ cheek, kissing his jaw, then back to his mouth, “Not sorry. Happy you here.” The arm on the back of the seating curls around his back, fitting them closer together. Sirius’ fingers press under his shirt and he rests his lips against Remus’ temple. And he just holds him there. Remus wonders of Sirius can feel his heart this time, practically beating out of his chest because this feels like a good time to say something. Sirius obviously wants him to say something, had said the awful night he last left the hotel room that he needed Remus to tell him. And if Remus could just…

“Sirius.” Remus says into his neck. He pushes his nose against the warm skin. He closes his eyes because if this goes wrong he can’t watch it happen. “Sirius.”

“I’m want, Remus.”

Relief floods through Remus at the exact moment that disappointment does. This is familiar territory for them, the trickling longing that was currently pooling in Remus’ stomach right alongside—everything else. The love, dread, fear, elation. Whatever it should be called. Love definitely wasn’t just happiness, Remus was sure of that much so far. Love definitely wasn’t just love. Love was just a name for a certain combination of everything else.

“Yeah.” Remus says. “Yes.”

Sirius lets out a long breath and slides Remus into his lap. It’s a tight fit with the table there, but Remus presses close to him, “Won’t someone see us? We should…”

“They be polite. Leave.” Sirius says the words right into his mouth then drags his teeth over Remus’ bottom lip, “карамель, how I’m make you want me?”

Remus leans into the half-kiss and drags his thumb over Sirius’ lip. Sirius looks at him with heavy, dark eyes, and Remus can’t help put press his finger in a little, feeling the sharp teeth that were on his skin a moment ago. “How can you think I don’t want you?”

Sirius’ tongue darts out to wet the pad of Remus’ thumb. His hands sit heavily on Remus’ hips, fingers just dipping down around his ass, only partly hidden by the table. He tilts his head forward, making a sad sounding noise in his throat, and kisses Remus.

Remus feels a little like he did have those glasses of wine Sirius offered. He’s confused, and the mind-melting kisses aren’t helping. He pulls back and puts a finger to Sirius’ mouth when it tries to chase his. He watches Sirius watch him as he presses down on his lip a little before leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to Sirius’ neck. Sirius lets out another long breath and sags back into the couch. “карамель,” he says again, then, “I’m want.”

Remus cups the back of Sirius’ head, fingers threading in his hair, and bites gently over the tendon of Sirius’ neck, kissing until a bruise starts to form. Sirius has let his head fall all the way back, resting against the thrumming plane wall, and is holding onto Remus like its for life. Remus pushes his hips forward, feeling how Sirius is hard in his pants and relishing in it. This is familiar. He made Sirius like this.

“I know.” He says, and kisses Sirius’ mouth softly. He thinks he does, at least.

Sirius breaks off into Russian then, and it all sounds so unbearably sweet that Remus has to switch back to kissing his neck just to hide how much it effects him. It creates a little well of hurt right in his chest.

Sirius is the one to almost get a hand between them when Remus stops him. He swears he can feel every person here listening to them. Sirius groans, half laughs really, and drops his head back on the couch again.

“I know, I know you said it was fine—“

Sirius raises an eyebrow at him, smile soft when he says, “Is fine. I’m do it before, Remus.”

And that—that stop Remus in his tracks cold. He tries desperately to school his expression and loops his hands around Sirius’ neck instead, “I—I know. I just, we’re the only ones here.”

“Nervous.” Sirius runs his hands up and down Remus’ back soothingly, “Is okay, Remushya. Most okay.” Sirius leans forward and presses a kiss to the corner of Remus’ mouth.

And suddenly he’s thinking about the first time he met Sirius, how nervous he said he was. But now he’s here, on a plane that’s apparently known to be fucked on. If that’s even what Sirius meant. He doesn’t want to ask, really doesn’t want to even take himself down that road. He doesn’t want to suddenly think Sirius was lying to him just because of one small comment.

He leans forward and kisses Sirius when he really meant to ask if he was just one boy in a long line. He doesn’t think so, he really doesn’t think so, but the seed is planted now, there in his mind.

Sirius settles back in the seat and pulls Remus close to him, seemingly content just to lay there together.

Remus looks up at what profile he can see of Sirius’ face from where his head rests on his shoulder. He tests the waters one more time. “I want to be here. With you.”

Remus watches Sirius smile before he looks down at him. His eyes have little bits of a brown that are almost yellow among the grey. Remus doesn’t know how he didn’t notice before. “I’m most happy.” Sirius says. He curls one arm closer around Remus’ back while the other gently takes a curl of Remus’ hair between his fingers, “I’m try tell you—that you make me most happy.”

Remus nods, smiles a little, and nods some more. He feels calmer. He thinks he can do this. Maybe with a cocktail or two. Maybe with just a kiss or two.

Chapter Text

Sirius looks better than the sun and the ocean. They have a pool to themselves—they have a house to themselves. A small white and sea-shelled little thing with a board-porch that ends right on the sand. The rest of the resort is a short walk to their left, obscured from view, and they have their own chairs right on the water. Sirius, currently stretched out in one…

Looks better than the sun.

Sirius squints up at him when Remus comes back from resting in the shade for a bit and Remus uses his body to block the sun, turning Sirius squint into a smile. He holds his arms out to Remus, and Remus falls right into his chest. He’s warm like the sun, too.

“Good day, Remushya?”

Remus just hums and closes his eyes. He presses his palm flat to the Russian ring necklace that is so familiar now, resting right over Sirius’ heart. They’ve been here all of five days and already Sirius is sinfully tan. Remus has to scramble just to make sure he doesn’t burn in five minutes of direct sunlight while Sirius walks around bronze.

“Yeah.”

“No stress. On vacation, never need to stress. No stress?”

Remus laughs a little, closing his eyes at the sun on his face. “I’m not stressed.” Not exactly, at least.

Sirius hadn’t initiated anything the first night they’d arrived, and Remus had definitely been expecting and looking forward to vacation-commencement sex. He’d thought maybe Sirius was just tired from the plane, only relaxing when Sirius rolled onto his side and pulled Remus’ back against his chest. But then Sirius hadn’t started anything the next day, or the next. Or the next. This morning, Remus had woken up first and felt Sirius’ more than noticeable hard on pressed along the back of his thigh. He’d remained perfectly still, imagining all the ways he wanted to make Sirius come, until Sirius woke up too. But Sirius had simply pressed a kiss to his neck and left to go shower. Remus had hovered outside the door for a few moments, but Sirius had taken him here. Maybe he simply wanted…companionship, this time. The thought made Remus groan as he’d gone to order them breakfast.

And then they’d been on the beach all day. Remus didn’t want to say he was frustrated, but he wasn’t entirely happy with the fact that even watching Sirius eat his yogurt this morning, lips wrapping carefully around his spoon, had gotten heat stirring in his chest. Sirius is with him, but distant. His smiles are gentler, his touches more reserved. Remus feels each held back brush of skin like a tingling phantom along his skin and, quite honestly, he thinks he might go insane before the trip is up.

“Order lunch soon?” Sirius’ hand runs along the expanse of Remus’ back, but over the white t-shirt he’s wearing—Sirius’ t-shirt. The one he’d slipped on this morning over his boxers in the hopes of starting…something. Sirius’ fingers feel warm and strong against his back and Remus closes his eyes. The words are right there.

“Yeah, that sounds good. I liked that lobster roll from yesterday.”

Sirius chuckles and Remus can feel it in his own chest, “I’m get you lobster roll every day if make you happy.”

Remus snorts and looks up at Sirius, who cracks one eye open in the sun. Remus laughs fully this time and covers Sirius’ eyes, “You need sunglasses, how do you not have sunglasses?”

Sirius grins, “I do, I do! I’m have, just not bring out. Hey, can’t see.” Sirius’ hands settle gently on Remus’ hips, and his grin turns soft, “Like to see you.”

And then Sirius says things like that. And it feels almost perfect, but it also makes the reserved touches ache more.

Remus looks at him for a moment. He watches Sirius lick his lips and the way his smiles softens even more. Sirius’ eyelashes are tickling Remus’ palm when he leans forward and kisses Sirius. He passes his tongue over where Sirius’ had passed a moment ago and Sirius opens his mouth to him. Remus enjoys it for a moment more before he pulls back and opens his eyes. Sirius’ mouth is parted and soft, his neck strained a little like he wants to chase Remus’ mouth. When Remus slides his palm from Sirius’ eyes and into his hair, Sirius’ eyes are open too.

“Do you not want to?” Remus knows Sirius can feel how hard he is in his swim trunks, even just from that. “Because—I mean, that’s fine, if you don’t. I’m just…you haven’t…”

“Remushya.” Sirius says the nickname like he can’t believe what Remus is saying. His hands slide from Remus’ hips to his ass, “Need to make sure you want. Not good after last time, Remus. Not make me feel good. Need you to…to start, you know?”

Remus feels familiar guilt linger with his arousal, “I want to.” He says. “I really want to. I—I mean, Sirius, that’s why you took me with you, isn’t it?”

The sun goes behind a cloud and Sirius can really look at him. And he does, for a long, long moment. His eyes are reflecting the aqua blue color of the sea, mingling with the gray, and Remus lets out a breath, waiting, stunned by everything about him.

But Sirius doesn’t say anything. Instead, his hand lifts up to gently cup Remus’ jaw, and he brings their mouths back together. It’s nothing like Remus’ hard, slightly desperate kiss. It’s slow, and deep. Remus feels like he’s melting into the sun pooled all around them. And the words are right there.

“Okay, Remushya.”

And the words fall away, because that could mean anything.

Sirius doesn’t waste any time. His hands wedges between them to cup Remus through his shorts at the same time as he ducks to press his mouth to the tender underside of Remus’ jaw.

Remus closes his eyes and curls his hand around the sun-warmed back of Sirius’ neck, “You want to, right?” Sirius huffs and reaches for Remus’ hand, bringing it to his own cock where its pressing insistently against his shorts. Remus sighs, half at the feeling half in relief. Sirius wants him. “Okay.”

Sirius licks across his lower lip, “Inside?”

Remus only just manages to nod before Sirius is sitting up and and pulling Remus’ legs around his waist with a quick deftness that makes Remus let out a noise and laugh a little.

Sirius kisses through Remus’ smile, sucking hard at his lip before dragging his mouth down to apply the same bruising pressure to the sensitive dip between his collarbones, licking into the sweat gathered there, “I’m take you.”
And then Sirius stands up like Remus weighs nothing more than the book he carried out here with him. His large palms splay over Remus’ ass and Sirius digs his thumbs into the muscle there until Remus squirms in his arms and presses himself harder against Sirius’ chest, cock trapped between them. The walk to the bed is short, but Remus still takes the chance to run his fingers over the muscles of Sirius’ shoulders appreciatively. The air conditioning hits Remus like a cool wave. He blinks against the fighting temperatures of the cold air and heat filling his body.

“Cold?” Sirius pauses in his path towards the bed to flick the air off.

“Hm.” Remus sighs, taking the moments that Sirius is focused on the thermostat to brush his lips against the slight stubble lining his jaw. It scratches against his lips and and so he gently bites instead and relishes in the way Sirius’ chest hitches. Remus vaguely thinks how all of this could be his. Maybe, maybe.

He bounces a little when he falls back against the bed, but Sirius’ body is there in a moment to ground him. He settles his knees on either side of Remus’ hips, his hands boxing Remus in. They look at each other, the room overly quiet without the hum of the air. Remus focuses on the hot metal of the ring that’s falling from Sirius’ neck to pool at the hallow of his throat. Sirius’ eyes fall to it, too, and Remus watches as they trail slowly back up to his mouth, nose, eyes. Sirius’ are dark with blown pupils and he lets out a gentle breath when their gazes meet.

“Remus.” He says Remus’ name as if it’s a plea, almost, and lowers himself to his forearms, wrists curling in to push his fingers through Remus’ hair where the heat and salt has curled it.

The sad lilt Sirius puts into his name makes Remus want to curl himself around him. He tries his best by sliding his palm around the back of his neck. “What is it?” Remus kneads the taught muscles of Sirius’ neck gently, “I know something’s wrong, Sirius. You’re…” Remus makes a noise at Sirius’ pleading look. The way he’s making his eyes big and sad makes his chest hurt, “Sirius, really, what—“

“You call me little name for love.”

Remus’ heart doubles in time and goosebumps break out all along his skin. Sirius looks a little nervous too, but he stays put, supporting himself over Remus, hands in his hair. Then he makes a pained noise at the back of his throat. He leans down and presses a hard kiss to Remus’ neck and huffs out a hot breath, keeping his face there, tucked away. It leaves Remus blinking up at the ceiling.

Sirius’ voice comes out muffled, “You forget?”

Remus hasn’t forgotten a single moment with Sirius. He shakes his head. Of course he remembers calling Sirius love, letting it slip out, and now Sirius is upset and fuck if Remus knows what to do about it.

“I—no. I’m sorry.” He hates the words the second they’re out of his mouth, and hates them more when Sirius rolls off of him and sits at the end of the bed with his bare back to him. He pushes himself up on his elbows, “No, Sirius—“

“‘I’m sorry.’” Sirius parrots, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—why sorry, Remus?” He hits his fist against the mattress and turns, standing. His eyes are just as sad as Remus remembers them from a second ago, “What I’m—what—“ Sirius groans and pushes his palms into his eyes, a gesture of pure frustration that raises Remus to sit on his knees, “Fuck me, I not know—to say. Too fast, too fast.”

“Hey, hey.” Remus puts is hands out, like that will do anything to calm Sirius, “It’s okay. Sirius, it’s okay, we can go slow. I—maybe I don’t have the words either, yeah?”

Sirius stands there frozen and coiled for a moment, shoulders hunched in a way that makes Remus want nothing more than to reach out. He’s not sure what’s about to happen. His mind is screaming at him that, fuck, he needs to just say—

Then Sirius drops his hands and his eyes are red. They’re bright and Remus’ throat closes a little. He falls back and settles on his heels, “Sirius.”

“Why sorry, Remus? Just say.” Sirius takes a step backwards, one arm curling around his bare stomach like he’s protecting himself, or trying to, “Just say. Can’t do like this.” He shakes his head. Remus can see bits of dried salt from the ocean on his skin, on the tips of his dark hair, and his chest hurts with how gorgeous he looks. How sad he looks. “Can’t, Remus.”

Remus blinks at him, mouth parted. He shakes his head back, slowly and stupidly, “Sirius, wh…I don’t know what you want me…You invited me here. You—“ You’re paying me to be here. “Isn’t that it?”

Sirius closes his eyes briefly, pushing his hand through his hair, and when he opens them again they’re brighter than before. This time Remus realizes it’s with tears, “You sorry?”

“No.” Remus gasps automatically, throat almost too thick to get the word out, “No.”

“Then what, Remus? You like hear me talk? You like—“ Sirius presses a palm flat over his chest, fingers splayed, and Remus can see him swallow hard, “You sleep so close to me and I—and you think I’m not—how…” He gazes at Remus with the same desperate stare, “I’m feel you every night and I just want—“

They both jump when a phone rings. And rings. It’s coming somewhere from the pile where both of their suitcases have merged into one. It’s going on four, long, horrible tones, and they’re both staring at each other before Sirius curses lowly in Russian. He wipes angrily at his eyes and goes to retrieve it.

Remus has a split second to realize it’s his phone before Sirius answers it. “Sirius, that’s not—“

“да?”

Remus hopes. He fucking prays to the God his parents so desperately believe in that it’s only James on the phone, or even better Lily, who will hang up right away. That it isn’t a client.

There’s a long pause before Sirius’ entire back tense and his voice comes out again, low, “It what?” Another pause, the other person talking, before Sirius whirls on Remus, eyes wide and expression looking nearly completely broken open. Remus blinks at him, completely at a loss as to what he could be hearing about.

“да—“ Sirius shakes his head hard, “Ah, yes, yes, it be fix. Right away. Thank—ah, bye.” He clicks the phone off and stares at it.

Remus’ heart is practically out beating his breath and he leans forward a little, “Sirius…”

“Why you not tell me about window? Why you say you fix if you not? It complete snow in your apartment. Wet, leak everywhere. Remus, not safe for you.”

“Wh—“ Remus looks at the phone, “Was that my fucking landlord?”

Sirius tosses the phone back onto the clothing pile, “Remus, it—it—“ He gestures wildly, “Freeze! It fucking freeze! You, you freeze! Winter, Remus!”

Remus’ eyes feel unfocused from where they rest on the bedspread, still messy from sleeping, and he shakes his head, “I…” He feels like he has whiplash, can’t believe they’re talking about this now, “It was fine, just—“

All the breath leaves his lungs when the bed dips in front of him and Sirius’ hands are on either side of his cheeks, warm, so warm, and he finds his gaze.

“So proud. So stubborn, Remus.” Sirius strokes his thumbs slowly over Remus’ cheeks, “Fuck—not let you anymore. Listen, okay? Stop. Listen.”

Remus curls his hands around Sirius’ wrists automatically, holding on, “I don’t—stop?”

Sirius lets out a long breath through his nose. His eyes search Remus’, as if he’s checking for something, and he bites the inside of his cheek, jaw working like he’s choosing his words slowly, translating carefully. He looks nervous and leans forward to press their foreheads together briefly, like his words are pulling him towards Remus, before pulling back again just enough to look him in the eye.

“I’m little bit—love you.”

Remus swears every other sound in the world goes mute. There’s an overwhelming pressure in his chest that builds, searing him from the inside out, as he plays the words over in his mind. They’re a warm weight that settles inside him like a blanket until it’s beating in time to his heart. He feels like he’ll never move again and like he can’t quite breathe properly and like Sirius’ hands on him are the only thing reminding him to draw air. He can feel his eyes fill with tears.

“Remus.” Sirius pets one of his large palms over Remus’ hair, pushing it out of his face, “Remushya.”

Remus wants to say it back so badly but the words lodge in his throat. He finds himself desperately thinking please don’t take it back please don’t take it back instead.

And it’s like Sirius knows, like he can hear him, because he presses the softest of kisses to Remus’ cheek and says, “I’m love you since…I don’t know, second night. Maybe not know it then, but know now. Know for months. Hope…hope you maybe too but, then think you not because…because I’m still pay.” Sirius closes his eyes, giving his head a little shake, and Remus’ entire world is falling off kilter, “Then I say all wrong thing. Say not want to do this anymore and you think I mean not want you. Then you almost leave.” When Sirius opens his eyes again there are—fuck, there are tears there, “You make it look so easy for you to leave that I’m scared. Because…not easy for me to leave. Want to stop pay, want to be boyfriend, but think you not want and—and know you need money and I want to take care.”

Sirius’ entire body stills when Remus lets out a breath that’s half a sob and turns his face into Sirius’ palm that’s still cradling one of his cheeks. Then Sirius is ducking to brush their cheeks together, kissing his jaw and pressing as close as he can with their bent knees in the way, “Always want to take care of my Remushya. I know you say not help but, fuck, Remus, I love you so much. I love you so much, please…Please.”

It’s like that last word is a spark. Remus can see it. He can see it in the touches, in the gestures, in the looks he catches Sirius giving him while they’re watching tv, eating breakfast. Remus can see it in that last night in London.

“You said it to me then.” He chokes out, fingers stroking over Sirius’, lips moving against the center of his hand. He remembers that long, sad rambling of Russian that he had only been able to let wash over him.

“Я люблю тебя.” Sirius whispers into his skin and—Remus has heard that before. He’s heard it whispered in the dark, and quietly over breakfast. He heard it that night.

Sirius loves him, and now he’s sitting there begging Remus to love him back.

As if Remus could do anything else.

He turns his face until he can nudge Sirius’ nose with his own, lips brushing his damp cheek, “I love you.” Remus can feel a slight tremor beneath Sirius’ skin as he slides his hands up his forearms, over his shoulders to his neck, “I love you, too, I love you.”

Sirius’ sigh shakes and then he lets out a sound that’s half laugh and half cry. He sniffles sharply after that and then he’s smiling with tears on his cheeks and blinking hard and Remus loves him. He aches with it and he feels so goddamn selfish.

Here he’s been, so worried that he doesn’t deserve any of Sirius that he forgot Sirius thinks something similar. That no one wants him. He’d told him so himself.

“You—yes?” Sirius’ voice is choked up, “Yes?” He says again, like he’s making sure. Like he can’t believe it. He strokes over Remus’ hair a few more times, thumbs over his cheeks and runs his palms down his neck and shoulders in these hard, long touches that feel like heaven, “You—you be with me to be mine.”

Remus laughs at that, just as choked and watery as Sirius’ voice is, “Yes.” He lets Sirius gather him in so that he’s sitting a little precariously on Sirius’ lap, and says it again, right against Sirius’ lips, “I love you.” He locks his ankles together to pull them flush together and it’s like floodgates have opened because he can’t stop saying it, “I love you.”

“карамель.” Sirius says, and then kisses him hard.

They’ve kissed one hundred and one times, but this is better. Sirius doesn’t just want him and a kiss isn’t just a way to get things going. Sirius loves him, and he’s showing him. Remus thinks he’ll join the sun puddled on the floor by the open windows.

Sirius somewhat tackles him to the bed then, startling a laugh out of Remus, and then a moan when he promptly presses their hips together. He’s not hard like he was, but with the way Sirius is pressing their dicks together, he’s pretty sure he can practically feel all the blood in his body flowing downward. Sirius’ mouth is hot as he tries to keep kissing Remus while simultaneously pushing their clothes out of the way.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m love—I love you.” Sirius pants once their naked, having just pulled Remus free of his shirt and pressed their slightly sweaty skin together, “Fuck, I love you, I’m fuck you so hard, I’m give you everything—I love.” Then he starts sucking what is absolutely going to be a horrible hickey into the side of Remus’ neck before breaking, “I’m say that wrong, but…”And he just sort of trails off in favor of licking the sun and salt from Remus’ skin. Remus can do nothing but try not to come on the spot. He’s leaking what seems to be a continuous stream of pre-come against his hip and, honestly, he thinks its more from the ‘I love you’ than anything else. His cock gives an almost painful pulse when Sirius whispers it in Russian against his neck.

He drags his hands over the obscene cut of Sirius’ hips and tilts his head back to give Sirius better access to his throat, “I want you to. I want you so much, god—“

Remus breathes out hard, trying and failing not to focus too hard on the slick slide of Sirius’ cock over his own, trying not to have this all be over much too quickly. Sirius groans and gets a hand beneath one of Remus’ thighs, hitching it around his waist so he can rub over Remus’ entrance.

“Fuck, need—need thing.“

Remus doesn’t need him to explain, just throws a hand out towards the bedside table and groans when he gets nowhere close. “This bed is too fucking big.”

Sirius huffs out a laugh, sounding a little pained at the thought of extracting himself from Remus’ body, but he does. He walks on his knees over to the nightstand and Remus has to curse, throw his arm over his eyes, and grip tightly around the base of his cock at how hard Sirius looks, red and wet.

“Remember condom, too.” Sirius says, and Remus cracks an eye open, smiling softly as Sirius wiggles the wrapper at him. Then he bites his lip as a thought crosses his mind.

“Maybe…maybe someday we don’t need that.” Sirius blinks at him and Remus reaches forward, dragging the tips of his fingers over Sirius’ wet crown, “I want to get tested. Just to make sure, but…” He swallows over his arousal, “you could come in me when we do.”

Then Remus more or less gets to watch Sirius understand in the way his cock jerks upward against his stomach a little and his mouth falls open, “Fuck, Remus.” He hisses, curling a loose palm around himself and dropping horizontally onto his back on the bed with a groan, “Fuck, tell me if say things like that.”

Remus feels a certain smugness bloom in his chest, glad he’s not the only one who feels like they’re about to lose it. He crawls forward and swings a leg over Sirius’ hips, straddling him. “Hey.” He pushes Sirius’ arms out of the way, lacing their fingers together and pressing until their hands are pinned to the bed above Sirius’ head. He grinds forward with his hips in slow drags and leans down to brush their lips together, “I love you.”

Sirius’ panting mouth turns into a lazy smile, and he arches up into Remus’ body, “Love you.” He pulls away to run his large hands up and down Remus’ sides, warming them and causing goosebumps at the same time. Then one had slips down to Remus’ ass, and Sirius coaches Remus down towards him until they’re nearly chest to chest and he can roll them over again. He presses a quick kiss to Remus’ mouth, “Love you.”

Then there’s blissfully slippery fingers inside him and Remus closes his eyes and breathes. So much just changed. So much just fell into place. He has forever and ever of this, he thinks. The nagging voice at the back of his mind is still there, though, telling him things start only to end. People love you in order to stop one day. But Sirius…he feels complete.

“карамель, can’t see.” Remus opens his eyes again and is met with a pleased smile from Sirius and a warm hand rubbing along his hip, “Better.”

Remus wonders what could be in his face that makes Sirius so happy, but then he realizes he only has to look at Sirius’ smile to find out. He smiles back, realizing it probably looks a little delirious, and covers Sirius’ hand with his. He squeezes tightly when Sirius adds another finger, and sinks back into the mattress. “Fuck.”

Sirius hums and bends down to help himself to Remus’ cock in long, slow, drags of his tongue. Remus gasps and watches Sirius’ cock until it drools a bit of precome. He smiles a little, panting, “You sure you can manage that right now?”

Sirius pulls of with a groan, and falls back to sit on his heels, stomach muscles tight and teeth clenched. “Too good, Remus. Too much for me.” He curls his fingers and Remus’ response is effectively lost to the way his nerves spark. Sirius smirks, “Too much for you, too.”

Remus moves one hand blindly to swat at Sirius, but Sirius just catches his fingers, bringing them to his mouth to kiss his knuckles, the inside of his wrist, “Want…take you apart.”

Sirius says the words like they’re having a conversation over breakfast, and then promptly leans over to kiss at Remus’ neck and just goes for it. Remus is a sweaty, gasping mess within minutes. Sirius’ fingers are long and nimble, skilled and quick from sketching, and Remus always wonders how it could get any better than this. He’s reminded, when Sirius rips the condom wrapper open and the hot, blunt head of his cock starts nudging at Remus’ hole.

“Fuck.” Remus sighs out, “C’mere, c'mere.”

Sweat is sticking his hair to his temples and Sirius sighs as he settles over Remus, licking the salt away from the hollows of his throat. He slips a few times, limbs shaky with anticipation, until he growls and reaches down to line himself up again. Then he pushes in and looks up at Remus as he does. They’re chest to chest, and Remus can’t imagine it any other way.

“I—“ Remus has to take a second though, mouth falling open as Sirius’ cock fills him, “I wanted this the first time. I—god…” His head falls back and Sirius takes it upon himself to kiss gently along his jaw and cheek, “I wanted this every time. To see you, I…”

Sirius makes a small sound and pushes his hand through Remus’ hair, “I’m want, too.” He pants, “I’m want…be so close to you—“ His words choke off a little at the end, pitching low as he bottoms out and they’re completely pressed together.

Sirius brings their mouths together in a hot, slow kiss. With his fingers wound through Remus’ hair, he starts pushing his hips forward in these small, shallow thrusts that make it so Remus can’t help the whine that leaves his throat. Sirius loves him. They’re here because Sirius loves him. He’s not going to be handed cash after this, he doesn’t have to leave.

After, he decides, as Sirius tongue slides against his own and his thumb strokes against Remus’ temple, he’s going to pull Sirius against him and tell him everything he’s been holding back. He’s going to wake up tomorrow and tell him again. He’s going to eat breakfast tucked away against Sirius’ side, and they’ll go down to the bar later and he’ll have whatever tropical cocktail Sirius orders for him while feeding each other the salty plantain chips between kisses. Then they’ll come back to the room, together, do whatever they want, together. Remus is going to love him back. He’s going to love him back so much.

His thoughts derail a little after that because Sirius’ hips snap into a stead pace, and it isn’t hard but it’s definitely deep, like Remus can feel every single inch of him. He curls his hands under Sirius’ arms, holding him close and relishing in the drag of Sirius inside him.

“Sirius, Sirius…” Remus chants, tucking his face into his neck, feeling the hot pants against his own shoulder where Sirius is doing the same.

“More?” Sirius says, then he drives home in one hard push and Remus squeezes his eyes shut. He goes to draw a breath but Sirius pushes in again, hot and hard. Sirius lets out a long, shaky, sigh, “Oh god.” His hands slide to grip Remus’ hips, fingers slipping a little on his sweaty skin and he draws out all the way and then pushes back in, again and again, making these noises that are driving Remus insane, quiet, “ah—fuck, baby…”

And Remus wonders if he heard that last part right, through Sirius’ round vowels and blood rushing in his ears, but the mere though sends him aching, cock drawn taught. He’s so fucking close, feels like he’s been on the edge forever. He glances between them and watches his cock smear against Sirius’ abs, the lightest of brushes that feel like torture. And then Sirius angles back and Remus can’t help the choked shout that he lets out.

“There? Fuck, there, Remus? Gonna fuck you so good, baby.”

Remus moans because he definitely heard Sirius right that time. His fingers struggle for a grip on Sirius’ back and he slips against the sheets. He gets his mouth on Sirius’ again and his legs around Sirius’ hips and suddenly he can push down a little in a way that has Sirius breathing harder into his mouth. Remus feels like he’s going to die with how badly he needs to come. Sirius is hot and heavy inside him, stomach brushing against his cock.

“I—Sirius, I need—“

Sirius kisses him hard, lips swollen and hot, “I’m take care.” He gets a hand between them, and Remus is so wet that it’s nothing but a blissful, slick glide. Remus fucks up into his hand, entire body straining with how fucking good it feels. His heartbeat pulses in his ears, but as Sirius’ fist tightens around him he becomes suddenly aware that Sirius is mumbling softly into his neck, “I love you, I love you—“ and Remus comes so hard that the entire world rings silent white.

Sirius lets out a low sound, half broken sounding, gives a few more stuttering pumps of his hips, and then goes rigid all over, cock buried all the way in as he comes. Remus can feel his lips and teeth on his neck as he gasps. He swears he can feel the heat inside him.

Remus doesn’t know how long they lay there. He doesn’t know which way is up. Sirius is a heavy weight on top of him, so warm he can feel it all the way in his bones. His entire body feels light and fuzzy at the edges, like he’s perpetually tilting backwards and anchored by Sirius at the same time. He’s still full of Sirius, soft now, but he never wants him to move, never wants him to be farther away than he is right now.

Sirius stirs just enough to gently pull himself from Remus and both of them moan as he slips out. He ties the condom off and when he stretches across the bed to throw it out, Remus swears his arms are shaking a little. Then he drapes himself right back over Remus’ sweat-cooled body and nuzzles at his throat, murmuring in Russian. It sounds unbearably sweet, and Remus smiles sleepily at the ceiling, eyes closed, because this time he knows its for him. He knows he can listen.

Remus only finds it in him to move when Sirius starts dragging his lips up Remus’ jaw to his cheek to his temple. He kisses over Remus’ eyelids before they open, then just below each eye, the corner of his mouth. “Remushya.” he whispers.

Remus hums in response, voice cracking, and they both laugh stupidly, too hard, really. Remus reaches up to tuck his fingers in the thick curls of hair that fluff out around Sirius’ ears.

Sirius tilts his head into his palm, “Good first time?” His voice sounds shot and fuck if Remus wants to hear that sound ever day for the rest of his life.

“That wasn’t—”

Sirius smiles, and just shakes his head a little, “Was first time.” He brushes a kiss along Remus’ kiss-sensitive lips, palm warm on his hip, “Was first time for love.”

Remus’ chest fills with the absurd need to cry. He blinks a little, lets out a shaky breath with a smile and nods, “Yeah. Sirius, that was—I’m so happy.” He’s never had that phrase be so true, not for a long time. He wants to say it again, wants Sirius to know what he’s done, so he does. He smooths a hand down Sirius’ neck, curling his fingers in the chain there and following it to the warm ring, encasing it in his palm, “I’m so happy.”

Sirius’ eyes look bright and like he can’t believe what’s in front of him. He closes his hand around Remus’ and kisses his fingers, “All I want, Remus. All I want.”

Chapter Text

Remus thinks briefly about going for a swim after, but even taking the few steps down to the beach feels like entirely too much effort. Instead, he runs his hand over where Sirius’ lower back dips, presses a kiss to his shoulder, and whispers, “Are you awake?” Sirius hasn’t moved much from where he’s still entirely draped himself over Remus’ body.

He gets a little hum in response, but that’s about it. After a minute though, another noise is grumbled into his neck and Sirius starts to press sleepy kisses there.

“Can’t move.” Sirius sighs heavily and Remus laughs because it tickles a little, “You’re so good. Out…out of fuck?”

Remus takes a second, has to close his eyes. This is stupidly hot. “Are you trying to tell me you’re fucked out?”

When Sirius makes a nearly porn-like humming sound in approval Remus snorts and the shaking of his laughter gets Sirius laughing too until they’re both laughing into each other’s mouths as Sirius tries to kiss Remus at the same time.

“We order lunch?” Sirius mumbles, more interested in dragging his lips down Remus’ neck.

Remus nods. He really doesn’t want to leave the room. Or get dressed, for that matter. “I’ll call.”

Sirius nods and moves to get off him with a groan. He only makes it about half off the bed, feet sort of on the floor, before he lays his head back down on Remus’ chest and closes his eyes. He pushes his nose into Remus’ chest until Remus threads his fingers through his hair a few times and then pushes himself up with a last kiss to Remus’ collarbone. Remus lays there for a moment, watching him walk away because he can now, when Sirius turns and grins. Caught. “Remus.”

“Hm?”

“Order whatever want. You mine now, I’m spoil, don’t get say no.”

Remus flushes to what feels like all the way down to his chest. “We only need so much food.”

Sirius’ voice echoes a little from within the bathroom, “Find other way to spoil, then.”

Remus rolls until he can reach the phone and the hotel book, flipping to the page with the room service menu. He hesitates, lip between his teeth, but orders a club sandwich, a few appetizers, and the lobster roll. After a second of hesitation, he gets them two smoothies and a slice of coconut cake for dessert.

A warm weight across his back and ass lets him know that Sirius is back and—still bare. He hooks his chin over Remus’ shoulder, “Get us good lunch?”

“Yeah.” Remus nudges Sirius’ shoulder a little until he lifts himself up, giving Remus just enough room to roll over onto his back. Then he brings his leg up, running a heel up Sirius’ calf, “Just some sandwiches, some of those um…” He threads his fingers through the chain around Sirius’ throat, fiddling with the ring while he thinks, "the toast things? The mashed toast things.”

Sirius blinks at him for a moment, then shrugs, “We see soon.” Then he lets out a long sigh and tucks his cheek against Remus’ chest. They don’t move much, Remus content to just enjoy the warm weight of Sirius until the food comes.

“Should clean you up.” Sirius mumbles, pressing a kiss to Remus’ chest. Remus groans. He really, really doesn’t want to move, even though Sirius is right. His mind jumps straight to the way Sirius carried him in here and he bites his lip before wrapping his limbs around Sirius again, locking his ankles.

“Okay.”

Sirius snorts, pulling his head up to press kisses to Remus’ mouth. “I’m take you everywhere now?”

Remus just tightens his hold, pulling himself up against Sirius’ body and kisses a light trail up Sirius’ jaw.

Sirius grumbles a string of pleased sounding Russian as he gathers Remus close and pulls them off the bed, palms splayed on his ass to keep him in place.

Sirius squeezes, “I’m take everywhere, best for me.” He nuzzles against Remus’ cheek as he walks them into the bathroom, “Still happy, Remushya?”

Remus hums in approval, playing with the chain around Sirius’ neck, “Very.”

Sirius reaches for the shower nob with one hand and the water rains from the head mounted on the ceiling. “Still be mine?” He asks while they wait for it to heat—it doesn’t take long.

Remus focuses on the question though, because he doesn’t want Sirius to have any doubt. He turns Sirius’ face away from the shower and towards him. Sirius hair is even more a mess than it was from just the ocean and as Remus runs his fingers through it they catch on some stray tangles at the back of his neck. He can hear the actual unsureness there, the same nervous doubt that’s a small knot in his own chest—only present because of the newness and how much he wants this. How much they both want this. Sirius tilts his chin up expectantly.

“I’m yours.” Remus hesitates only a second, hoping he remembered this last part correctly, then strokes his thumb over Sirius’ bottom lip and decides to just try what Sirius has been calling him for months. “I’ve been yours for a while now, Sirushya.”

It feels awkward on his tongue, his accent absolutely sucks, but it’s all worth it because Sirius looks a little like he’s having a religious experience. So, he wraps his arms around Sirius’ neck and presses a quick kiss to Sirius’ parted lips and says it again, “Sirushya.”

Sirius lets his head drop back with a groan and a smile and Remus laughs at the blissful joy present on his face. “Did I say it wrong?”

“So good, Remus. I mean—accent so bad.” Sirius laughs, the loud one that Remus can’t get enough of, and steps in the shower—if only to press Remus against the wall beneath the hot spray. The cool tiles make him gasp and then Sirius is biting gently at Remus’ lip, “So good…So good to me, Remus.”

They really do just get cleaned up beneath the spray, although neither of them stop kissing long enough for it to feel truly thorough. Sirius does let Remus down though so he can wet a washcloth and clean the salt from Remus’ skin so tenderly that Remus wants to pull him right back to bed. Only the muffled knock on the door reminds him that they ordered food and probably shouldn’t let the bellboy walk in on that.

Sirius curses, then laughs, then hops out of the shower with a quick kiss to Remus’ lips, “Stay, shower, I’m get.” He pulls a towel around his waist and then points a finger at Remus, other hand on the door, “Not get dressed.” Then, poking his head back in and wet feet slipping on the floor a little, “Well—maybe t-shirt.” He starts to go, then comes back again, “My t-shirt. Very important, Remus.”

Remus snorts but reaches for the washcloth that Sirius dropped and tilts his head up into the spray. He can vaguely hear Sirius receiving the food, but mostly its just the pounding water and his pounding heart and he takes a second to just breathe. The reality of today hits him again and again like the waves just outside their door, and each time, he feels like he just came up for air from being under water for too long. Disbelief and amazement and this overwhelming longing that doesn’t make sense because he has what he wants. Although, maybe it makes perfect sense, because he spent so long wanting it that his body is still reminding itself how to stop wanting and start enjoying.

He reaches for the shampoo and runs his hands through his hair a few times, does another quick rinse of his body, and then steps out of the shower. The towels are white and huge and fluffy. Remus thinks its probably stupid that they’re on of his favorite things about the entire resort, thinks it should probably be the ocean or the food, but he’s been using threadbare towels for what feels like forever. And Sirius loves him. Remus grins and presses his face into the warm cloth. He’ll let himself love these towels. And the sheets. The one thousand thread count sheets. Remus can still feel his grip on them, his grip on Sirius’ skin—

“карамель?”

Remus grins. And Sirius loves him. He lets out a breath and wraps the towel around his waist, leaving the steam of the bathroom. He finds a clean pair of boxers and crosses to Sirius’ suitcase for a shirt. Some of them say something on it, each with an increasing degree of ridiculousness. Coffee and Naps. Spiritual Gangster. Remus presses his lips together in a smile. More of them have Cyrillic that Remus can’t make out, and he choses one of those, liking the coolness of the screen-print against his chest and the way that no one else he knows could own this shirt. It’s Sirius’.

He finds Sirius in the living room dressed similarly, only a tank top replaces the t-shirt and Remus is glad he has food to blame the fact that he thinks he might feel his mouth water—just a little. Sirius is tan, and strong, and now Remus knows that he can pick Remus up and carry him.

Sirius is sprawled on the couch with a tray to his left. Remus hovers a little, unsure where to sit. It would make sense to go to the other side of the tray, then they could both reach the food. What he really wants is to be near Sirius, to press right into his side, right under his arm.

Sirius solves the problem for him by holding his arm out, smile sure but gentle, and Remus gladly folds himself into his waiting warmth. He goes to reach across to the tray for a sandwich and Sirius practically bats his hand away with a noise of protest.

“What?” Remus splutters, “Sirius, I’m—“

Then there’s a bit of lobster salad being held right to his lips and Remus blinks at it a few times before opening. His tongue brushes Sirius’ fingers and, well. “I—okay.” Remus settles into being fed, “This is ridiculous, but okay.”

“Ridiculous, yes.” The word is almost two syllables on Sirius tongue and Remus melts, “Give you ridiculous number of love.”

Remus smiles and accepts a bite of the sandwich half Sirius is eating, “Amounts. Amounts of love.”

Sirius waves the sandwich dismissively, “Whatever word. You deserve.”

Remus lets his head rest against the back of the couch, watching as Sirius picks through the fruit plate. “Hey.” He rubs his palm over the swell of his arm to get his attention. Sirius looks at him with a soft hum of interest, “You do, too. Ridiculous—insane numbers of love.”

Sirius looks at him for a few moments, eyes almost—a little vacant for a moment. And then there’s something flooding back there, like a pool filling with water, and he takes Remus’ hand from his shoulder and into his own, resting them in his lap. He looks down at them as he rubs his thumb across Remus knuckles in slow strokes. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before speaking. “Am—“ He swallows, “Am most glad Remus thinks this about me.”

Remus turns his palm up so their hands can fit together more smoothly and curls the other around the back of Sirius’ neck. With the amount of re-assuring Sirius had done today—not to mention that it was Sirius who had the courage to tell Remus how he felt—Remus wants to be able to make him feel good about this.

“I…” Remus quietly curses himself. If only he was better with words. “I remember, in the store? When we were buying suits? For that party. What you told me…I want you to know—you know, that’s why I was hesitant—that’s why I was so afraid. I didn’t want you to think I would use you. I mean, I know you wouldn’t think that now, I knew then, I think but…but that’s why I was scared. Of—of telling you that I love you.”

Sirius looks back at him then, eyebrows drawn together in a way that Remus can tell is half distress and half him trying to string the English words together. He struggles to simplify the sentence in his head.

“Big sentence changes, Remus, not sure I understand…”

“Right, I know, I know, hold on, love.” Remus rubs his fingers soothingly into the back of Sirius’ neck and Sirius makes a soft noise and proceeds to flush a lovely pink from his cheeks to his throat and ears. Remus smiles and presses a lingering kiss to his cheek, “That’s—that’s sort of what I was trying to say. You told me that people wanted you for your money only, remember? And that scared me a little.”

Sirius shakes his head, “Why scare?” Then his eyes go a little wide and his fingers tighten around Remus, “Remus, no—I’m not think you—“

“I know that now, I do.” Remus squeezes his hand back, “But…I didn’t know. Then. And the last thing I wanted you to think was that I was trying to use you for money, that I would call you—love and be with you just because I…” Remus sighs, dropping his forehead against Sirius’ shoulder. If he’s going to admit this, he needs to do it without the loving pity he knows will appear in Sirius’ eyes. “Sirius…god, if you could see where I live—“

“Remus, Remus.” Sirius cups Remus’ face in his palm, bringing their eyes back together, “Too fast again, baby. I’m tell you what I hear, yes?” He takes Remus’ nod with a soft kiss to his temple, “Okay. I tell Remus at store, sad about lonely. Sad about boys want money more than kisses, yes?” Just for that, Remus has to kiss him. Sirius hums, smiling once they break apart, and pushes his fingers through Remus’ hair, “So, Remus worry. Worry I’m think you same if be mine…not understand why Remus think he could ever be like other boys.”

Remus sighs, figuring he has to be painfully blunt about this part. “Because I’m poor. As shit.”

Sirius studies him for a moment, then nods slowly. “I’m…I’m not think I know the most about this. You hide from me…like how you hide house?”

Remus feels himself flush but nods, “Yes.”

Sirius makes a little noise and pulls Remus more firmly against his side, “Think I’m not think you really love, think you want money because money what you need?”

Remus tries his best to take a breath at that, but his throat feels tight. It’s harder than he thought to hear those words from Sirius’ mouth, but the truth is softened a little by the warmth of Sirius pressed all along his side. “Yes.” He says softly.

Sirius makes a little cooing sound that’s accompanied by a tumblr of gentle Russian. It makes the tightness in Remus’ throat move to behind his eyes, and then suddenly he’s being pulled right into Sirius’ lap, legs draped over where he previously sat and body cradled in Sirius’ lap and arms.

“Remushya forget.” Sirius presses gently kisses along Remus’ cheek, “Not let you be stubborn, not let be proud. Not let forget, either.”

Remus shakes his head and tries not to sniffle, “Forget what?”

Sirius keeps it up with the nuzzling, and Remus can’t complain. It feels tender in a way that he’s slowly getting used to—something he’s only experienced from Sirius. “Remus need love, too. Not money only. I’m know. I’m see.”

Remus has to close his eyes at that. God.

Sirius brushes a kiss across Remus’ temple, ”Remus need money, I’m give. But not because he need money. I’m give money because I’m give love already, yes? Other boys, money come first. Money only, not love. They want trip to island, not kisses. Not with you. With you…With Remus money become…become part of love. Okay? Become not money. Become…” Sirius’ hand is warm on Remus’ skin, “Become protect. Take care. Help. Is something I want to share. I want, Remus.”

Remus covers his face with one palm as Sirius’ words make him crumble a little, then switches to rest their foreheads together, trying not to cry on Sirius but…Well. He feels a little like he’s being gently taken apart and put back together in the right order. All the nervous notions he’d had circling in his head…they don’t feel as present.

A gentle smile, one that hits Remus right in the heart, crosses Sirius’ face. He strokes Remus’ temple, palm warm on his cheek, and it’s so sweet that Remus can barely breathe, “You cry every time I’m say love you?”

“No.” Remus laughs wetly, “Maybe. For now.”

Sirius laughs into the kiss that he presses to Remus’ cheek, “Okay. Is okay, for now. I’m want to cry a little, too, when I hear. Make me…” He pauses, searching for the right word, then just makes the face that Remus associates with “English-is-hard” and sighs out, “emotion.”

Remus laughs again, wiping a tear away, “You make me emotion, too.”

Sirius sighs and lets his head fall back against the couch, “Most emotion. Especially…” Sirius lets out a breath like he can barely talk about whatever was about to say.

Remus grins, “Especially?”

Sirius shakes his head, blinking slowly up at the ceiling, “Have to warn me if you speak Russian, Remus. Heart explode. Dick explode.” And then Sirius breaks off in a fast flurry of said language and Remus stares for a few moments as he gestures vaguely at the ceiling, tongue going a mile a minute, until he has to swing himself up, straddling Sirius’ hips, and kiss him.

“You don’t warn me.” Remus licks slowly into Sirius’ mouth, as if he could taste Sirius’ words, “How is that fair, Sirushya?”

Sirius nips at his lower lip, and proceeds to do a much too sing-songish impression of Remus, “Oh, so not fair, Sirius, get me hot with words, make hard, get off so good while you talk—“ He breaks off in laughter when Remus shushes him, holding Remus’ hand away from where it’s trying to cover his mouth, “—so mad at sexy boyfriend for speak sexy language, so sad—“

Remus decides to try a different tactic to shut Sirius up. He leans forward and presses their lips together hard—a slightly awkward feat given that they’re both laughing. Sirius presses fast bursts of kisses along Remus’ cheeks and Remus is still laughing, but his throat is tight like it gets with tears. He’s feeling so much at once that he just lets Sirius kiss him through it. It feels grounding, like a hand to hold while floating over waves.

They do, at one point, finish eating, but the coconut cake turns into feeding each other. And then Remus gets a bit of frosting on his lip and it’s all over from there. Remus is pulled back into Sirius’ lap, but the kisses remain slow—hot, but like they have all the time in the world. Remus has the thrilling realization that they do. Maybe the conversation from earlier keeps it on the sweeter side, and Remus is sort of thankful for that. He thinks they both need each other right now more than they need to get off again.

Remus’ mouth feels pleasantly sensitive when Sirius finally leans back for air, eyes hooded as he loops up at Remus from where his head rests on the couch back. He smooths his fingers over Remus’ narrow hips, “You show me?”

Remus tilts his head, torn between watching Sirius’ face and watching the way Sirius’ dark hair slips through his fingers, “What?”

Sirius reaches up to take Remus’ hand from his hair and presses a gentle kiss right to the center of his palm, “Where you live.” Remus stills a little at that, and Sirius must feel it because he presses a few more kisses there, then a few more to Remus’ wrist, “Can trust, Remus.”

“No, I know.” Remus wraps their fingers together and squeezes, “Of course I know that…I just. It’s—bad.”

Sirius hums, “I’m already know this by way you…be. By way you be?”

“By the way I act?”

Sirius scrunches his nose, “Like on TV?”

Remus smiles a little, “Sort of. Just by the way I’m…being. Another word is behaving. To behave.”

Sirius hums, “So much, Remushya, so much language. Russian best.”

Remus does laugh at that, and Sirius pulls him down to nuzzle at his throat, “You not answer.” Then quieter, eyes looking softly up into Remus’, “Not have to say yes. Not have to do anything not want, okay?”

Remus nods, thinking back to his hole in the wall flat. He honestly can barely remember it right now, not through the happy haze of Sirius. It starts to settle back over him like a patch of dark clouds, “James—my friend, that you saw me with that day…he’s always asking me to move and…I don’t know, I think—“ He takes a breath, trying to remember to go slowly, “I think that’s why I pushed back so hard against your help. I think that’s why I didn’t want your help—or thought I didn’t. I’m…I’m just used to turning help away. I’m used to saying no.”

Remus presses Sirius’ fingers flat, then curls them around his own again. Sirius’ hands are strong and quick. They’re larger than Remus’ and Remus suddenly wishes he could spend the rest of his life held between them. “I’ll show you. I just want you to know it’s bad. I—I want you know that I know it’s bad.”

“Okay.” Sirius says.

Remus squints at him, “Okay?” There’s no way that’s all Sirius has to say. He’s never had so little to say in the entire time Remus has known him ever.

Sirius gives him a curt nod, “Okay.” And then, “I’m know, if you know I’m boyfriend now and not let my карамель stay in place not safe.” He kisses Remus’ knuckles, “You show me, we pack things, and you can chose where stay. Stay with friend—James? Okay. Stay our hotel? Okay. Or…you stay with me.”

Remus blinks, “You? You have a place in London?”

Sirius licks his lips—he looks nervous, “No. Not London. New York. Where my office is, where I’m go after leave home. I’m—“ Sirius sighs and settles Remus off his lap, tucking his knees beneath him so that they face each other, “not want make Remus leave his home. Never want him be sad. But…if want…” Sirius makes a little noise at the back of his throat and cups Remus face, “I’m want. I’m want so much. Have home with Remus—“

“Yes.” Remus says, and his voice barely works so he tries again, “Yes, Sirius—fuck, do you want that?” Remus’ hands are shaking as he reaches forward, hands on Sirius’ chest, “Really?”

Sirius blinks at him, then again, then again until his smile is blinding and he’s nodding, “I’m really want. Most want but—you…leave home?”

Remus almost wants to laugh, “What home? God, what home? I haven’t felt at home anywhere since…” Remus swallows over that particular part of his past, shakes his head as if he could clear the memories away. He smooths his fingers over the ring around Sirius’ neck, “Sirius.” He looks back up into his face, at the way Sirius always looks so completely open, like he’d bare his soul for Remus. “You’re…the only home. For me, you…I’ve never felt so at home with anyone. I never even hoped that you’d feel the same.”

“Do.” Sirius’ hands cover Remus’, “Do feel the same. I’m go—you know, hotel, hotel.” Sirius sighs and Remus’ heart aches with how shaky it sounds, “Go all over world, Remus, no one to share it with. Then go back to lonely apartment. Nice apartment, I’m design, but…lonely. Can’t go home home, to Russia, to far for other travel. Is hard…you know? No one share it with. I’m lonely in..by own? Say wrong.”

Remus shakes his head, “No,” he chokes out, “No, you said it just right.”

Sirius sends him a smile, eyes glassy light against the sun and blue outside. He wipes quickly at one eye with the back of his hand and sniffs, “I’m not have home for long time, also.” He presses slow fingers through Remus’ hair, “Now, I…I have?”

Remus nods, leaning into the touch, then into Sirius’ chest, looping his arms around his neck. They kiss slowly. All the time in the world. “Yeah. You do.”

Chapter Text

Remus wakes the next morning to the bed dipping as Sirius sits on it and bends to tie his shoes. Remus’ eyes blink open to the sight of his white button down, summer-thin, stretching across the muscles of his back as they shift with the movement of his hands.

And Remus will admit. It takes him a moment to remember. And when he does, the split second of sorrow he felt is intensified and then washed away by the equally strong wave of warm elation that replaces it. He feels so giddy his chest hurts as he reaches out to run his palm down Sirius’ back.

Sirius turns around with a little gasp, and then he’s rambling before Remus can even open his mouth. He makes a sad little noise, full lip poking out in what can only be called a pout, and turns until he can half lay on the bed, reaching to wrap Remus, still sleep warm, in his arms. “I’m know, I’m know, not want to leave, baby. Have breakfast. Stupid breakfast with stupid work people. They not know I’m have hot boyfriend in bed, so stupid they make me go.” He presses a long kiss to Remus’ lips, licking hotly into his mouth, but starts talking again almost instantly, “I’m think maybe wake up early, but look so cute sleep, Remus. All warm, so hard wake up but want kisses, too—“

“Hey, hey.” Remus presses his thumb to Sirius’ bottom lip, then replaces it with a kiss of his own, “It’s okay, love.” He really wishes Sirius didn’t have to go, but his fantasies from the plane are at the back of his mind, too. He runs his fingers down the collar of Sirius’ shirt, imagining what it’ll be like to peel it off of him. “I’ll be here when you get back.” And he lets go, sprawling his bare body against the white sheets in what he hopes is at least somewhat hot, “For kisses and…whatever you want.”

Sirius looks at him for a long moment, lips parted. Then he throws his hands up and rises from the bed, “Now I’m hard while try to talk to people and eat egg. All your fault, Remus.”

Remus laughs and bites his lip as he watches Sirius work to adjust himself in his pants. It’s not like he’s easy to hide. Remus is mid-stretch when Sirius’ voice makes him open his eyes again.

“Hey.” He’s got their room key and his sunglasses in one hand. His shirt is rolled up to his forearms and his hair is still a little sleep-mussed. Remus wants to die a little when Sirius smiles at him. “Love you.”

Remus lets his head fall back against the mound of pillows, “Love you.”

~

He orders himself breakfast while Sirius is away at his. Just some yogurt and granola. He figures Sirius will probably be doing more talking than eating, and he wants to be able to enjoy a large lunch with him later. Maybe on the beach. There’s a part of him that still never wants to leave the hotel room until they’ve made up for all their lost time and he feels thoroughly fucked, but…they’re here. They should enjoy it.

What he doesn’t expect, is to fall asleep in one of the shady chairs next to their small pool out front, but when he wakes up to warm fingers through his hair, he smiles even before his eyes are open.

“Hi, sleepy.” Sirius leans down to brush his lips over Remus’ cheek, then presses a slower one to his mouth. “Miss me so much you nap?”

Remus laughs, but looking at how the sun is haloing Sirius’ dark hair just then, something sizes in his chest and he can’t imagine how he let him go so easily this morning. He makes a little noise and pulls his knees into his chest so he can reorient them around Sirius’ waist, “Did you have a good breakfast?”

Sirius hums as he pulls Remus the rest of the way. He rucks Remus’ shirt up to rub gently at the base of his spine, “Boring. Talk a lot, be hungry soon.” He sighs and bites gently at Remus’ jaw—maybe just because he can, “You eat?”

“Just a little. I figured you wouldn’t get to have much. We can go to the restaurant soon.” Even before he finishes the sentence, Sirius is grumbling. Remus laughs, “And then go to the beach later, with all those people around. Then maybe we’ll go to the bar before dinner—“

“Killing me, Remus, oh my god.”

Remus presses his smile into Sirius’ neck and plays his fingers through the short hairs at the back of his neck. He leans back for a short kiss, “What, you don’t want to eat lunch with me?”

“Eat you for lunch.” Sirius grumbles, and then, for the third time, Remus finds himself lifted into Sirius’ arms.

Remus laughs, “Okay, I am actually hungry though.” He kisses a little burst across Sirius’ sunned nose.

Sirius laughs, “Always hungry.” He plops Remus down on the bed and braces his forearms on either side of his head. His neckless falls from beneath his shirt, pooling at Remus’ throat, and Remus reaches up to feel the tight stretch of his button down over his back. “I’m take care. What you want for lunch, карамель?”

Remus presses his lips together, thinking.

Sirius raises an eyebrow.

Remus moves his hands to the front of Sirius’ shirt and slowly starts working the buttons until the shirt is hanging open, “Lobster roll.”

Sirius grins and brings his knees up onto the bed on either side of Remus’ hips. Once seated on Remus’ lap, he pushes the material from his own shoulders, letting it pool around his hips and onto the bed, “I’m know that not all.”

Remus bites his lip, letting his eyes wander, “Plantain chips, maybe.”

Sirius smiles, “You tell me everything you want, always.” Then he leans down, all warm skin and bruising kisses, and mumbles against Remus’ mouth, “I’m do for you, anything.”

Remus looks up at him, at his heat-curled hair and light eyes. He feels the familiar tightness in his chest that occurs when he really just…can’t believe. He smiles a small, disbelieving smile, and reaches up to trail his knuckles across Sirius’ cheek. “You’re pretty phenomenal, you know that?”

Sirius smiles back, but his eyebrows draw together a little, “That word scare me.”

That startles a laugh out of Remus, and he pulls Sirius down and just—hugs him. As tight as he can. Sirius sinks into it, and Remus likes how he can feel his chest expand and contract against his body as he breathes. It’s comforting, to have something he loves this much this close.

Sirius yawns warm against Remus’ neck, and Remus cards his fingers through his hair, “You got up pretty early, love. Why don’t we just relax here. I can get us lunch in a bit, yeah?”

Sirius hums, pressing what already feels like a sleepy kiss to Remus’ neck, “Is good, yes.”

Remus glances down, “Here.” Despite Sirius’ noises of protests, he manages to untangle himself long enough to work on Sirius’ belt and jeans, pulling them off, “Socks on or off?”

“Off. Hot.”

Remus balls them up and throws them near their suitcases. He sort of loves how knobby Sirius’ ankles are, and runs a quick thumb over the closest one before climbing back towards the head of the bed, where Sirius is pulling back the covers for them. He will admit though, Sirius shuffling around their hotel room in socks back in London was one of his favorite things. He can’t wait to see it in New York.

~

When they wake up again the sun is only just starting to lower and Remus’ back is a little sweaty where its pressed to Sirius’ chest. Sirius has him completely drawn in. His hand is splayed against Remus’ chest, like he’s pushing them closer together even in his sleep. Remus tries to stay as still as he can while simultaneously kicking as much of the sheets away from his body as possible. He freezes when Sirius makes a sleepy noise.

“What time?” His voice cracks and Remus melts.

“Looks like we only slept for a few hours.” He cranes his neck to look at the digital clock on the bedside table, “2:30.” He places his palm over the back of Sirius’ where its resting against his stomach, “Do you want to go swimming?”

Remus can feel Sirius’ smile against the back of his neck, “Naked?”

Remus laughs, “I’m pretty sure we have to wear a swimsuit.”

“I’m pay them most money,” Sirius’ smile has turned into kisses, “We do what we want.”

“That’s definitely not how nudity works.” Remus snorts and turns so they’re chest to chest, sheets a little twisted around their ankles, “Besides, we can do that in our pool.” He grins at Sirius’ noise of interest, “Tonight.”

“Okay, we swim. Get food at beach.” He throws the sheets off of him and walks naked to his suitcase. “Wear blue swimsuit I buy you, best on you.”

Remus rolls his eyes, “You only like it because it’s short. It could be neon pink and you wouldn’t care.”

Sirius sends him a grin over his shoulder, “Most true. So what?”

Remus wears the blue swimsuit.

~

“Hey, put head back! Not trust me?”

Remus laughs, tightening his arms around Sirius’ neck as the water laps around them, “Not at all, you’re definitely going to dunk me.”

Sirius has Remus cradled in his arms and is trying to convince him to lay back in the water. He’s smirking while doing it though, and Remus is wary.

“I’m what? Dunk?”

Remus cracks one eye open against the sun, “Yeah. You know, like a cookie.”

It occurs to him a second too late that that was the wrong thing to say.

Sirius’ laugh sounds surprised out of him and he does, in fact, dunk Remus—well, dunks them both. Remus just has time to close his eyes against the salty water, and then laughs at the way Sirius’ hair is plastered against his forehead. At least until Sirius shakes his head like a dog, and it curls up again.

“Yes, perfect,” He says, and swings Remus around so that Remus’ legs lock around his waist and he can brush their noses together, “I’m dunk like cookie. Sweet enough, карамель. New name?”

“No way.” Remus laughs. He rests his cheek against Sirius wet shoulder, presses a little kiss to his neck. Sirius stands, just holding him in the waves for a moment. “I like this.”

Sirius strokes a palm over his neck. It’s probably a little slimy with sunscreen, but Sirius doesn’t seem to mind, “Like close?” He murmurs against Remus’ ear, to which Remus hums a yes. “Like ocean?”

“Yeah.” Remus sighs, pushing his fingers through the short hair at the back of Sirius’ neck, “Or just you.”

Sirius scoffs and shifts Remus so he can look at him, “Like me? I’m dunk you again!”

“I’ll bring you with me.” Remus tightens his arms, just a little, holding them together.

Sirius smiles so wide his nose scrunches a little and he swipes his thumbs over Remus’ hips, “Hope you always bring me with you.”

“More like you bring me with you.” Remus laughs, but it settles a little heavily somewhere in his chest. He hasn’t forgotten how much Sirius has to travel for his work, how sometimes they might not see each other for days or weeks while he’s away on a project. How this vacation is not forever, this little bubble of pure them.

Sirius makes a sad noise. “Sad eyes, what happen?”

“Just—you know.” Remus smiles, and presses a kiss to the tip of Sirius’ nose, “You travel a lot.”

Sirius rolls his eyes, like this problem shouldn’t even exist, “Always bring you with me, Remus.” Then he ducks his head a little when Remus looks away, trying to recapture his gaze, “Only if you want, of course. You can come to fun places, like Japan.” He sinks down into the water so their floating a little, up to their necks, and captures Remus’ mouth when he gasps a little at the temperature change, “What Remus want?” He smiles and his tongue peaks out to wet his lower lip, “Other than me, of course.”

Remus laughs softly. “I…” He swallows and reaches up to push a strand of hair away from where it was sticking close to Sirius’ eye. He smooths it down again and then leaves his hand there, brushing Sirius’ cheek, “I never got to go to university. I—I know I’m a little old, I mean, 22 is usually when people are finishing, but…”

“Remus. Remushya.”

And Remus has to look up just to put a face to the sheer happiness that is in Sirius’ voice. It’s an expression Remus doesn’t think he’ll be quick to forget, but he can’t imagine why Sirius looks like that just because he said he wants to go to school.

“I’m—“ Sirius squeezes Remus closer, “Yes, so good. You love. You find nice school in New York, we live together, you focus on studies. I—you let me…you let me take care? Please.” Sirius has dropped his voice. He whispers the words against the corner of Remus’ mouth, “I’m want so much for you. Remus, I’m want give you…everything. Let me? Is okay?”

Remus feels his lip shake a little before he even realizes that he sort of wants to cry. He really is keeping a pattern here. But he’s wanted this for so long, school, and to have it just plain offered to him like that… Sirius shushes him softly and leans forward to try and kiss the quiver away.

“But—“ Remus’ voice cracks, “But what will I—could I—ever give you back? I literally have nothing.”

“Remus.” Sirius makes a sort of tisking noise and is suddenly wading them forward back towards shore, Remus still in his arms. “You listening or be stubborn?”

“I’m not—what—“

Sirius wades through the water until he can kneel on the sand and lays Remus gently back against the shallowly lapping waves. They’re only just on shore and Remus laughs a little as Sirius settles himself between his thighs.

“Listening, Remus?” Sirius holds himself up by his forearms, blocking the sun from overhead until he is all Remus can see.

The sea rushes up around their bodies, cool next to the heat of Sirius’ bare thighs and chest pressed to Remus’ skin. Remus feels safe, here between Sirius and the sand.

“I’m listening.” He says.

“Okay.” Sirius curls his wrists inward so he can run his hands through Remus’ hair and push it off his forehead. “Give…” Sirius presses his lips together for a moment, eyes flicking between Remus’ as he tries to string the right words together in his head, “You give me everything already. Everything. Remus, I’m…” Sirius shakes his head and stray droplets of water fall onto Remus’ chest and cheeks, “I’m so lonely before, you no idea.” Sirius laughs a little and pets his hand through Remus’ hair again, eyes following the motion like he can’t believe he gets to do it, “I don’t even know how lonely, you know? Then you come to me, and I see. You stand at door first time I see you and ask me about home and I think…I don’t know, you sleep in my arms and I…I can feel when you not there now.”

“Sirius.” Remus starts but Sirius presses a kiss to his cheek.

“Is big, cold place that…that is waiting for you to make warm.” He sends Remus a soft smile, “And now you are here.” He says the words slowly, with careful grammar. Sirius shrugs one shoulder, “Everything.”

Remus can only look up at him for a moment, then he shakes his head, “Sometimes, with the things you say to me in English, I think I’d die if I could understand what you’d be able to say in Russian.”

Sirius grins, pressing his nose beneath Remus’ jaw, “Learn Russian, find out.” Then he leans back with a mockingly serious look on his face, “No, I’m take back. Dick hard all time if you speak Russian.”

Remus laughs loudly at that and pulls Sirius into a salty kiss.

They’re rinsing off the salt beneath the outdoor shower on their deck when Remus presses his hands to Sirius’ chest, “Hey, wait.”

“Hm?” Sirius blinks down at him, hair a mess from running his fingers through it and the water.

“I just—“ Remus smooths one hand up to his neck, “I have to make sure you know. I’d love you if you didn’t have a cent to your name. I’d love you without—without the money, without any of it. Okay? Do you know that?”

Sirius looks at him, hands freezing, and between one blink and the next his eyes are glassy with tears. Remus reaches up to cup Sirius’ cheeks in his hands, “I’d love you if this hotel didn’t exist, I’d love you if the apartment you were offering to let me come live with you in was a one room shack.” He pushes up on his toes and presses a hard kiss to Sirius’ mouth, tasting the sea. “I’d love you through anything. Okay?”

Sirius smiles, a tear escaping from his eyes and mixing with the soft stream of water. He sniffles and laughs, curling his hands around Remus’ wrists and rubbing lightly, “Okay.”

Remus laughs a little too, “Got it, Sirushya?”

Sirius laughs a little more, squeezing his eyes shut and tilting his head up into the spray for a moment, smile wide, and then arching down to kiss Remus. “I’m got it.”

Chapter Text

Remus lets out a breath and pushes the hair off his forehead as he stares at the zipped suitcase in front of him.

“You brought way too many clothes.”

Sirius looks up from where he’s arranging their passports and wrapping his phone and computer chargers neatly around each other. He smiles, dimple appearing in his cheek, “Only because we not wear any.”

Remus’ laugh is punched out of him as he lugs Sirius’ suitcase off the bed, then lifts his own decently heavier one. “Okay, then you bought me too many clothes.”

“Remus, Remus.” Sirius’ hands are warm when they push under Remus’ shirt to pull him in by his hips. For once, and only because Sirius is sitting on the bed and Remus is standing, Remus is the one to have to lean down for a kiss, “You agree for lifetime of presents when you say you love me, you know this.”

“I agreed to a lifetime of you.” Remus corrects, before taking Sirius’ face between his palms and kissing him hard, “You know this.” He smiles at Sirius’ struck and pleased expression, “You just insist on the present part.”

A slow smile crosses Sirius’ face, and he ducks to kiss Remus back, “Love you.”

Remus ducks a little more, chasing Sirius’ mouth, “Yeah?”

His hand creeps down Remus’ back, curving over his butt and pulling Remus against him, “I’m show you how much when we home.” He pushes his nose against Remus’ neck, “When we home.”

Remus sighs, closing his eyes, “I can’t wait.” He’s almost tempted to just leave his apartment as is, call to terminate the lease and never look back. But…no matter how horrible it was, his old life deserves more of a goodbye than that. James deserves more than that, and Lily. Remus gathers Sirius closer to him, “New York’s going to be pretty cold compared to what we’ve been getting used to.”

Sirius makes an exaggerated noise of interest, “I’m take you coat shopping?”

Remus groans.

“Can be early Christmas present.” Sirius sing-songs, and Remus—blinks.

“Oh my god.” He pulls back, hands on Sirius’ shoulder, “I—you’re right, it is almost Christmas.”

Sirius presses a kiss to the center of Remus’ chest over his t-shirt and gets up to go to the phone, intent on calling down to the front desk to take their bags. He holds the receiver between his shoulder and ear and scrunches his nose as it rings, “New Year better.”

Remus tilts his head, “You don’t get gifts on New Year’s.”

“In Russia, do—“ He catches the phone from where it almost slipped, “Yes, hello, room 178, need bags to lobby, please.”

“New Year’s is different in Russia?”

Sirius slings his workbag over his shoulder and then comes to sit next to Remus on the bed again, pulling Remus’ legs across his lap and rubbing gently at his ankle. “Later, yes. December. Thirty First. Different way to…celebrate?”

“Celebrate.” Remus confirms.

“Celebrate.” Then Sirius grins, tongue poking out a little, “Better food, too.”

Remus leans back against the pillows, thinking. “Oh. Well. We’ll be all moved in by then, right?”

This. This was what Remus could do for Sirius.

Sirius nods, thumb digging delicately into the arch of Remus’ foot, the other sneaking beneath the hem of Remus’ shorts to rub along his thigh. “Yes, all together. But first we get your things.”

Remus sighs just as the door buzzes, signaling that the bellboy is here for their bags. “I think you’re overestimating how many things I have. By a lot.”

Sirius raises an eyebrow and presses a quick kiss to Remus’ temple before he rises to get the door. “You want just fly to New York? Think we should say bye to London. Not just whisk you away, Remus.”

Remus sighs. He’d be pretty okay with that. Shoving his feet into his shoes, he shakes his head. “No…No, I do want you to meet James. And Lily.”

Sirius beams at him, but then the bellboy is loading their suitcases and there’s the rush of getting to the airport and through security and customs. The plane, though. The plane is just as nice as Remus remembers. Offers of fresh fruit, and all.

And he gets to snuggle up to Sirius in the window seat this time, watching some dumb action movie. Because he loves him. They love each other.

“I’m think he die in end.” Sirius whispers. His hair is ruffled from the his headphones, one pushed away from his ear so they can talk and hear the movie at the same time, “Yes?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen a movie in forever. Well, James dragged me to see something. It had wizards in it, I don’t really remember.”

Sirius shrugs, “Movies hard to follow sometimes. Talk fast. Like this, don’t need to understand, just see what blow up.” He sends Remus a sort of sheepish look, “Know should have English better by now, but…”

Remus shakes his head hurriedly, “I love the way you speak.”

Sirius wrinkles his nose, closing one eye in embarrassment, “Worst at meetings, sometimes. People try hide smile with hand or—or cough, but I see, you know? I’m—I’m most smart in room! Just can’t always say.”

Remus smiles at that. He has to kiss him. “I know you are. And everyone can tell once they see your designs.” Remus bites his lip, “I…I would want to see some. Sometime. If you want.”

Sirius straightens up so fast the blanket they’ve been sharing falls off of his chest, “Yes? You want, really?” And before Remus can answer he’s throwing his headphones off and scrambling for his bag. Remus has caught glimpses of his black sketchbook a few times, but never when he wasn’t half asleep on the beach.

Sirius sits with his body facing Remus, one knee propped a little awkwardly against the wide seat back. Remus laughs a little at how eager he looks and pulls his own headphones off, pausing the movie and pushing the screen back.

“Here,” he says, and turns Sirius until he can stretch his legs out again and presses right along his side, head on his shoulder, “Okay, go.”

Sirius strokes his hand over the hardcover, “Okay, Remus. Not laugh?”

“Of course I’m not going to laugh, love, oh my god.” Remus places his hand over Sirius’ and squeezes, “Show me.”

Sirius settles back into his seat a little more and lets out a breath before he flips the cover open. And if Remus was expecting anything—blue penciled perfectly neat drawings, mostly—it wasn’t this.

The first page is dotted with countless studies of what look like various types of shells and leaves. Some of them have cute cartoonish creatures peaking out of them, some have inky notes jotted with arrows pointing to various parts. Remus loves Sirius’ handwriting instantly. It’s slanted and messy, and Remus can’t read anything but the cyrillic letters are gorgeous.

He’s reaching out to trace his finger over the colored pencil and pen before he really realizes it. “Sirius.”

“Is nice, yes? Do while in Jamaica. Work on house for writer there. See,” Sirius flips the page, and suddenly everything is beautiful green trees and close up studies of pine needles and burs. “Sketches very important. Want to know nature because—well, pretty.” Sirius turns and strokes the same thumb that had been brushing over one of the pine needles over Remus’ lip and smiles, “Pretty.” Remus rolls his eyes and Sirius turns back to his sketchbook with a laugh, “But also can see things that make building better for earth and atmosphere. Like here, nature have entire cooling system that use no energy! Is perfect for us, why we not use? No one need freezing air conditioning. So, I think, how we use? And…”

Sirius flips the page again. The building is beautiful. Remus hasn’t ever even spent that much time noticing buildings and he knows its beautiful. Sirius’ drawing is neat and the cyrillic lettering, light so as not to draw attention away from the work, scrawls along all of the margins. Remus can see hints of the pines in the broad roofing and ledges and it’s—a little stunning.

“Sirius.” He says again. “It’s gorgeous.” He takes the book from Sirius’ hands so he can flip the pages for himself, lingering and going back when he wants, “They’re all gorgeous—“ He stops.

“Oh.” Sirius sounds a little flustered, and Remus doesn’t have to look at him to know the high of his cheeks are pink, “Forget that…there. Maybe skip some pages—“

“No, no.” Remus strokes his fingers over the drawing. And the next one. And the next one. Of him. Sleeping, and smiling and a sort of self portrait of Sirius, but with Remus’ lips pressed to his cheek. His profile and studies of his eyes and mouth cover the next, maybe ten pages of the book. And they’re dated. Remus flips all the way back to the first one. It’s done in blue pencil. He’s looking down, his mouth is turned down. It’s from the first night they met. And they continue chronologically until they get to one of Remus in their bed back at the beach resort, eyes crinkled up in a laugh and gazing past the viewer of the portrait, as if Sirius was there holding a camera. But he’s not, it’s a drawing and it’s incredible.

“I’m wearing your necklace here.”

Remus can see Sirius nod silently from the corner of his vision.

Remus looks up at him, feeling a little breathless, “I’ve never worn your necklace.”

“Maybe…” The corner of Sirius’ mouth lifts up, “Maybe little wish for me.”

Remus stares at him, smile slow to grow over his face, before he reaches forward and tugs the chain out from beneath Sirius’ shirt. “Yeah?”

Sirius closes his hand over Remus’, the ring warm between them and his eyes trying very hard and failing to look scolding. “Can’t here, Remus. Not good for nice lady to come back with food and I’m on knees, yes?”

Remus groans, “Why do you just say things like that every time we’re on a plane?”

Sirius leans in, pressing his nose beneath Remus’ jaw, “Because it get you.”

Remus laughs, leaning into the touch. He isn’t wrong.

They spend most of the plane ride looking through Sirius’ sketchbook then finish the movie. Well, Remus finishes the movie while Sirius falls asleep on his shoulder, nose pressed to his skin. Remus is only half paying attention to whatever revelation the tight suited hero was having on screen. He looks out the window at the slowly darkening sky, fingers rubbing gently at Sirius’ neck, and finally makes himself think about what’s about to happen.

He’s going to leave London. He’s going to live in New York. With Sirius. He’s going to go to university. He’ll get a job, of course. Try to do something for Sirius, no matter how many times Sirius insists that it isn’t like that, it isn’t an exchange. Remus knows that. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to give Sirius the world. It’s around then that he remembers the plane has wifi.

After checking that Sirius is still sleeping and making sure to keep the light from his phone out of his eyes, Remus quietly types Russian New Year’s into Google.

~

London smells rainy and cool when they get out of the cab on Remus’ street. Sirius leans down to tell the cabbie to stay put for a moment while they get whatever Remus needs, and Remus takes the few moments to ready himself. His building looks even more shabby than he remembers it, but maybe that’s just the effect of staying where they were staying. Of being anywhere with Sirius, really.

“Ready, Remushya?”

Remus nods. “Are we taking everything back to the hotel?”

Sirius nods, “Hotel. Until ready to go.” He wraps a warm palm around Remus’ and squeezes, “Stay as long as need to.”

Remus nods. He’ll call James from the room. He’ll arrange something, he’ll—

“Hey.”

Remus bites his lip into a smile. Sirius’ voice is so familiar now, he can’t believe he lived so long not knowing it, not knowing he needed to know it.

Sirius leans down and presses a lingering kiss to his cheek, “Is me. Is us, okay?”

Remus lets out a long breath and nods, “Okay.”

Remus opens the door and keeps his head down as they walk up the stairwell. Sirius’ hand is still warm in his own when they get to his flat door, still tight and reassuring as he puts the key in the lock. It goes a little lax when Remus pushes the door open and steps them inside.

Remus thinks he should probably be saying something. He’s sure Sirius is expecting him to say something. His mind draws a complete blank though, and instead he releases Sirius’ hand and marches further into the room. He picks up his messenger bag from where he’d left it on the bed.

“There’s really nothing I need. I really brought most of my clothes. I’ll get my jacket, that’s good—“

“Remus.”

Remus almost winces at the soft tone of Sirius’ voice, and looks up to find Sirius standing by the window. His hands are raised, tracing idly over what’s left of the tarp and duck tape. It’s only then that Remus notices the dark patches on the wood floor—where snow and water must have seeped in. Sirius trails to the kitchen with the dribbling sink. The bathroom and the yellowed shower. He opens the bare cupboards and the empty dresser drawers. Remus feels small.

“It—yeah, it look worse than it was. Really, I—”

“Remus.”

Remus raises his eyes back to Sirius’. They’re wide and gray, heavy-lidded beneath his concerned brow. He stoops a little to touch Remus’ bed and the thin sheets. And, maybe it’s seeing Sirius here. Maybe its the contrast of seeing Sirius, amazing, generous, gorgeous Sirius, next to all of this. But Remus can’t find it in himself to lie anymore.

“I—“ He swallows, his voice cracks, “I hate it here.” Sirius’ eyes fly back to his and Remus can’t find anything else to do other than shake his head, “I hate it. I hate it.”

“We leave.” Sirius says, walking around the bed to take the bag Remus’ is holding, “Tell me what you need, and we leave.”

Remus laughs a little, shaking his head, “I need you.” He motions around the room, “Look at this place, it’s…” There’s no sign a human being even lives here, currently, except maybe the shampoo in the shower and the kettle on the stove. “It’s nothing.”

Sirius’ eyes go big and sad. “Remushya. Come, come here.” And then he’s wrapped in Sirius’ arms.

“I’m fine.”

“Remus.” Sirius’ voice is harder this time, but he holds him tighter, too. His lips are pressed right to Remus’ ear. “Be truth. Is me, is okay. Is not fine, but is okay. Not your fault.”

Remus blinks hard, pressing his nose into the cotton of Sirius’ sweatshirt, “I know.” He lets out a long sigh and pushes up onto his toes so he can loop his arms around Sirius’ neck. “I know.”

“Thank you for—you know, for show me. Trust.”

Remus breathes Sirius in. “Thank you for giving me a home.”

Sirius hums a melancholy note and holds Remus tighter. “You give me home, Remus. You know—what people say here? Or, well, I’m hear in America but, maybe same.”

“Hm?”

“Home is where the heart is.”

And Remus has to laugh a little because Sirius says it exactly like some cheesy movie would. He laughs, but he has to kiss Sirius for it, too, because he’s right.

Sirius laughs with him, smiling against his lips, “Is true. I’m not do anything but love, give kisses. Is easy.”

Remus bites his lip into his grin, cupping his palm around the back of of Sirius’ neck to pull him down until they can press their foreheads together, “Ridiculous.”

“Never going to say that word.” Sirius pouts. Then he’s turning his head to the side a little, his phone lighting up their faces in the dim, rainy space, “I’m find in Russian.”

Remus snorts, but keeps himself busy kissing the warm length of Sirius’ neck while he searches, occasionally helping with English spelling.

“смешной!” Sirius yells—a little loudly—triumphantly. “I’m understand, oh my god.” Then he’s pulling Remus closer, fingers digging into Remus’ ribs until a loud laugh is surprised out of him. “Mean, Remus.”

“It’s not mean—stop—“ But there’s no way his words hold any weight whatsoever, he’s laughing too hard. Finally, he’s somehow able to wrestle Sirius back on the bed and they both groan a little at how hard it is. Remus scrunches his nose in apology, “Sorry.”

Sirius laughs, “We go home now. You need leave key with someone?”

Remus puts his weight on one elbow so he can dig the key out of his pocket. He throws it blindly over his shoulder and it lands—somewhere in the room. “We go home now.”

~

If, that is, home is the hotel room. For now. And it feels just a little bit like home. At least, it’s familiar. And the bed is practically heaven.

Sirius flops down on his back, tired from all the travel, while Remus hovers over their bags, staring at nothing in particular. He feels…a little weightless. And like everything is too good to be true. He just gave up his apartment, and his brain is telling him he’s homeless and should start looking for a back up plan…but there’s Sirius, right there on the bed, smiling at him sleepily.

“Hate planes most. We nap now?”

Remus lets out a long breath and then pulls his shirt over his head, “We nap now.”

Sirius throws his hand out, “Wait, I’m do, I’m do.”

Remus laughs and walks to the edge of the bed. Sirius pushes himself up on his elbows until he can sit up, feet dangling off the bed while Remus stands between his knees. He looks up at him, eyes dark and smiling as he undoes Remus’ belt while Remus combs his fingers through his hair.

“Where’d that snapback go?” Remus says.

Sirius laughs, “You like.” His fingers are on the button of Remus’ pants and he pushes them down until Remus can step out of them. “Come on.” He wraps his arms around Remus’ hips, tilting them backwards onto the bed, “Come here.”

“Hey, hold on.” Remus balances himself on Sirius’ hips and pushes his shirt up his torso, making him lift his shoulders to get it over his head. “I can’t be the only one in my boxers.”

“You want me naked, no problem.”

Remus shakes his head, grinning and pressing his palms to either side of Sirius’ face, thumbs stroking over his dimples, “How do you smile like that?”

“What? I’m just smile.” Sirius feigns innocence, but his eyes say he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“You’re like—“ Remus leans down to kiss him while he pops the button on Sirius’ jeans, pressing his hand inside to cup Sirius through his underwear. Remus feels a little smug when Sirius’ breath hitches. “You know exactly what you’re like.” Remus shoves Sirius’ jeans down around his thighs until their low enough that he can press their slowly hardening cocks together without the scratch of denim. Sirius’ eyes slip closed and Remus leans in close, mouthing at Sirius’ jaw and dropping his voice low. “You’re so good.”

Sirius lets out a shaky breath and runs his hands up Remus’ sides. He cranes his head up to brush their noses together, their lips, before he opens his eyes. They’re dark. “Maybe not nap.”

Remus gives him half a smile, the majority of his brain more focused on on the way Sirius is pushing his huge palms against his arse, “Maybe not.”

After that its a brief scuffle of who can kick what remains of their clothing off first. There’s some rolling but eventually Sirius wins out, pinning Remus to the bed.

“Russia best.”

Remus presses his heels to the back of Sirius’ thighs, “Kiss me, then.”

Sirius does. It had been days since their confessions, but when Sirius mumbles a soft ‘I love you’ against Remus’ lips—every time he said it at all—Remus feels the overwhelming shocked waves of joy all over again.

“Sirius…” Remus tucks his hands around his shoulders, holding him closer.

“Я знаю.” Sirius says against his skin, “Я тоже не могу поверить, что ты моя.”

Remus closes his eyes and smiles, letting his head fall back onto the pillows as Sirius kisses his neck, as his fingers find the dips along his ribs and he pushes their hips together in slow grinds.

“счастливый.” Sirius tilts Remus’ mouth back to his with a hand at the back of his head, “твоя улыбка намного лучше моей.”

“What?” Remus breathes.

Sirius nips at his bottom lip, “Learn Russian, find out.” He darts away for the condom and lube on the bedside table before Remus can really roll his eyes. But looking at Sirius click open the lube and place the condom next to him reminds Remus of how much he wants to not need that condom.

“Um. Do you have a doctor in New York?”

Sirius freezes, “What? You okay? Remus, we not have—“

“No, no.” Remus laughs a little, pushes himself up on his elbows so Sirius will lean down and give him a kiss, “No, I was just thinking about…” He glances at the condom, then back at Sirius in time to watch his eyes widen.

“Yes. Yes, have doctor.” Then Sirius gives an excited little, well, what can only be described as a wiggle between Remus’ thighs at the thought, “We go each o—together?”

Remus lets out a breath and nods, “Yeah, I don’t want to go alone.”

Sirius’ eyes are bright and happy, which is why Remus gasps in surprise when he wraps a firm hand around Remus’ dick and says, “Let you feel all of me. Be close.”

“Fuck.” Is all Remus can manage, because the image alone has his chest burning with want.

Sirius’ hand disappears for a moment, but when its back its slick but still warm—which means Sirius took the time to make it that way, which, for some reason, Remus’ brain thinks is cute. It has to be how turned on he is.

“Want that, карамель? Want me fuck you—голый? Not know.”

“Yes.” Remus doesn’t need him to say it, “Yes…”

Sirius leans over him again, and his fingers trail down over Remus’ entrance, “Say for me?”

Remus wrinkles his nose, “In Russian?”

Sirius laughs, “You think you can?”

“Absolutely not.” Remus slides a little down the pillows so he’s flatter on his back. He plats his feet on the bed and pushes against Sirius’ fingers, trying to coax him along.

Sirius pulls his bottom lip into his mouth at the feeling of Remus trying to push him inside, “We try something simple. Something you know now. Something…it means same thing for us. Fuck is same as…Я люблю тебя.”

Remus stares up at him, chest feeling all too full in the best way.

Sirius smiles down at him softly, strong body bracketing Remus in. He leans down to brush a barely there kiss over Remus’ lips, “You know it.”

And Remus does. Of course he does. I love you. He reaches up, trails his knuckles down Sirius’ cheek. I love you, I love you.

Sirius leans in, “You say,” his fingers circle slowly at Remus’ entrance, tantalizingly, a barely there pressure, “and I’m give you.”

“Ya…” Remus winces and Sirius snickers. “Ya ly—Fuck, I can’t. I don’t even know how your mouth does that.” It’s so hot, he doesn’t add. “I—fuck.”

Sirius pushed one finger in while Remus was talking, thick and long to the knuckle, and immediately crooked it up. Remus’ body jolts.

“Sirius.” Remus doesn’t care that it comes out almost a whine.

“Я люблю тебя.” Sirius says again, finger stilling, “Say for me, baby.”

“I love you.” Remus says, “I love you, I love—mfg—please.” Sirius’ middle finger is pressing in with his pointer.

“Я люблю тебя, Remushya.” He leans back, just for a second, to add lube to his relentless hand, “Say now, or have to say while I’m fuck. Is harder then.”

“Ya lyubl—“ Remus cuts himself off with a gasp as Sirius adds a third finger, “That’s not fair.”

Sirius kisses him hard, but Remus can still feel the grin within it, “Go. Say. Here,” He pulls back just enough so they can look eye to eye. He’s still smiling, eyes flicking back and forth between Remus’, “I’m watch. I’m not do anything.”

Remus huffs out a laugh because he can still feel Sirius’ fingers slowly moving, prepping him. But it isn’t as overwhelming, it just feels good. Remus is sure that’s going to change the second he gets the words out.

He tangles his fingers in Sirius’ hair, just for something to hold on to, “Sirushya.” Sirius fingers still for a fraction of a second, his eyes flickering down to Remus’ lips, then back to his eyes, like he can’t decide where to look. Remus licks his lips and watches Sirius’ eyes draw to them. He curls his palm around the back of his neck, and they’re back on his own. “Ya lyublyu tebya.”

Sirius’ eyes darken, Remus can fucking see his pupils expand and it’s incredible. He feels goosebumps all along his neck and his mouth falls open when Sirius gives his fingers a sudden, perfect twist.

“Ya lyublyu tebya.” Remus gasps again and watches the way Sirius’ eyes close, the way his brow knits and his lips part. Remus has to lean up and lick into it, kissing and maybe biting a little because Sirius wants this. They both want this. “Say it back, say it back to me.”

“Я люблю тебя.” Sirius says, and Remus feels his stomach tighten at how scratchy his voice sounds. Then Sirius makes a low sound in his throat and is letting himself fall forward more. Remus isn’t sure what he’s doing, he’s worried for a second that he’s going to stop, when Sirius leans to the side, supporting himself with one arm so he can grab for the condom with the other, tearing into it with his teeth.

“Um. Fuck.” Remus blinks. That—yeah. That’s good.

Sirius raises an eyebrow at him and Remus just shakes his head, silently concentrating on keeping control of his dick where it’s wedged up against Sirius’ stomach. Sirius looks down to roll the condom on, giving Remus a lovely view of his thick, dark eyelashes. Remus can’t help it. He reaches out and ever so softly runs his the pad of his thumb along them.

Sirius flinches a little in surprise but smiles, “What? My eye, Remus. Can’t pet eye.”

Remus laughs, smiling even as he moans when the hot, blunt head of Sirius’ cock nudges against his hole. “I—I know. You’re just—I like them. Your eyelashes. Now, c’mon, you promised me something.”

Sirius cocks his head, “What? Oh, this?”

And he promptly slides home in one go.

And it’s brilliant. Remus feels his back arch into it of its own accord and his nails dig into Sirius’ shoulders, “Oh god.”

“I’m tell you—“ Sirius’ voice sounds strained but happy, “I’m give you everything.”

But he isn’t moving. Not like usual, at least. Instead, he just nestles his head against Remus neck, and pushes against him in these small, slow circles that are practically ripping Remus apart at the seams.

“Sirius…” Remus can feel Sirius’ panting breath and the bruising kisses he’s pressing against his neck. He can feel his eyelashes against his skin and Remus has a sudden thought. “Sirius.”

“Mm. Feel good, baby.”

“Do you know what a butterfly kiss is?”

Sirius pulls his head back up, brow furrowed. His hips still while he thinks and—Remus can’t decide how he feels about that. He sort of likes just the…weight. The connection. He settles further into the mattress and decides to enjoy it.

“I’m know yoga pose.” Sirius blinks a few more times and then his eyes widen and he looks at Remus, “You…You want kiss…” His eyes flick downward, “Down there?”

It’s Remus’ turn to look confused. He tries to picture the butterfly pose. He knows its one where you spread your legs and—oh. “No. Well. I mean—not—not now. If you—never mind. A butterfly kiss is just…”

He cups his hand against Sirius’ jaw, keeping him still, and surveys his cheek. He decides to go for the soft high of it, steering clear of stubble. He leans forward, tilts his head and…

Sirius lets out a little breath, along with a soft whisper of, “Butterfly kiss.”

Butterfly sounds beautiful in his mouth.

“Like…” Remus waits for Sirius to find the word, “like крыло.” He runs a hand over Remus’ wing-bone on his back, fingers warm.

“Wing. Yeah, like that.”

Sirius smiles at him, blinding and huge, “I’m—love.” Remus smiles and goes to kiss him when, “Hey, no, I’m do you now.”

Remus does his best to bite back how big he wants to smile and tilts his face up while at the same time using his heels to press Sirius into him. They both groan and Sirius’ butterfly kiss quickly turns into a hickey against his collarbone.

“I’m do later.” Sirius mumbles, licking over the soft intend of teeth he just made on the column of Remus’ neck, “Is for baby I love you. This big I love you, it come first.”

“Fuck, I—“ Remus is fairly sure his chest is going to explode this time, “Fuck, come here. Kiss me, come here.”

Sirius drapes himself over Remus, keeping their chests close as he pushes closer. His thumb strokes just below Remus’ ear from where he’s holding Remus’ neck to kiss him soundly. Remus doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the way Sirius kisses. There’s probably too much tongue and it’s a little sloppy, but he does it in a way that lets Remus know there’s nothing else he’s thinking about, and nothing else he’d rather be doing.

“I’m think about…” Sirius’ presses another long kiss to Remus’ mouth, “how it feel when we don’t—need anymore.” He pulls out, hot and slow, only to grind it in and—yeah, Remus can picture it too. Sirius’ breath punches out of his lungs, like the thought is too much, “I’m die to be most close, Remus. Killing me, is so much. You don’t know.”

And Remus is pretty sure he does, but hearing how much it would effect Sirius is pretty great, too. Remus curves his hips up to meet Sirius’ thrusts, “You’re imagining it? When it’ll be just us.”

Sirius’ eyes squeeze shut and he drops to his forearms. His knees slip against the sheets a little and he groans lowly, one hand reaching out to grasp the headboard, “Remus, fuck.” Sirius leans down and kisses him hard. Remus melts into it.

“Ya lyublyu tebya.” Remus says, “Fuck, Sirius—“

Sirius is hot above him and inside him, his entire body pressed along Remus’. He whispers his own ‘I love you’ back, and then it’s all Russian until he stills. Remus can feel the muscles in his back shaking. Maybe it’s that, maybe it’s a little combination of everything that sends Remus over the edge right after him.

Sirius lets his weight fall down on top of Remus with a long sigh. And Remus loves that, loves how Sirius never rolls away from him after sex. Not even in the very beginning, when Sirius was just a client and Remus had expected him to scoot to the other side of the bed, like most men did. He hadn’t expected a heavy weight against his side and his head being guided onto a shoulder. He certainly hadn’t expected to like it.

“Thirsty.” Sirius says, voice right in his ear from where he’s resting on Remus’ chest. “So good.”

Remus snorts. This is probably what he loves most about their sex. It’s…comfortable. Not in any bland way, it’s hot and it can be slow, or fast, and Sirius drives him insane with everything he does. But an underlying current of sweetness never falls away. They can laugh while they kiss, and that means more to Remus than almost anything.

“Here,” He taps Sirius’ hip, then his butt, “I’ll get us some water.”

Sirius obligingly rolls to the side, pressing a sloppy kiss to Remus’ cheek, “Best.”

Remus runs a quick hand through Sirius’ hair before getting up. He finds what he thinks are his boxers on the floor—and then realizes that they are most certainly not given the slight looseness around the thighs—and pads into the living room where the bar and mini fridge are. He grabs two bottles of water and, after glancing at the M&Ms for a moment, takes those, too.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he says as he walks back into the bedroom, “I took the M&M’s—“

The bed is empty, but the sink is running in the bathroom and, through the partially closed door, Remus can just see one of Sirius’ calves and ankle. Remus shrugs, and is about to flop down on the bed when he notices something placed right in the center among the messy sheets. It’s—well, it looks like it’s a dark sock—one of Sirius’ socks—with a messily wrapped piece of string around it. Not string, the elastic from the flight tags stretched in a criss-cross way that only just looks like a regular present wrapping.

“Not have nice box.” Remus looks back at Sirius over his shoulder when he wraps his arms around Remus’ waist from behind, “But…want you to have.”

Remus looks back at the little bundle, “And here I thought you were letting me do something for you, when really you were getting me out of the room to do something for me.”

Sirius smiles, “Go, open.”

Remus pushes the water bottles into his hands and goes to kneel on the bed. They sit, feet touching, while Remus holds the gift. “Is this your sock?” He has to hear Sirius’ say it.

“Not have box! I already say.” He starts laughing as he says the words when Remus does, and leans forward to kiss him, “Open.”

Remus shakes his head, still smiling, as he pulls away the airport elastic and unrolls the sock. He can feel something heavy at the toe of it and shakes it down the length of the fabric until—

A key falls into his hand.

He feels the bed shift as Sirius fidgets a little, and Remus looks up at him. “Is this what I think it is?”

Sirius smiles softly, nodding, and cups the back of Remus’ hand holding the key with his palm, his thumb rubbing along the inside of Remus’ wrist. “Is like…I want to give now because—you know, all the other nights we here, in hotel, you have to leave. And I’m have to give you money, and then you go.” He curls Remus’ fingers around the key, then his own hands around Remus’, eyes sure and sweet, “Not have to go anymore, Remus.”

When Remus hugs him, practically throwing himself into Sirius’ lap, Sirius kisses his neck and whispers, “Oh, one more present.”

Remus’ smiles as Sirius’ eyelashes brush against his skin.

Chapter Text

“We could have met somewhere. Like a coffee shop.”

Sirius looks up from where he was looking at the other names on the doorbells of James and Lily’s apartment building. He raises his eyebrow. “He invite us to house.”

“I—Yeah.” Remus nods, fingers fidgeting from inside his hoodie pocket. “I know. I just. What if it’s awkward? Then there’s like, you know, no background chatter.”

Sirius squints a little, “Chatter? Chowder? Soup?”

Remus blinks then snorts, closing his eyes and smiling as some of the tension bleeds out of his shoulders, “No, like talking.”

“Oh. Very different.”

“Yeah.” Remus sighs. “You’re cute, though.”

Sirius grins, “I’m know.”

Remus smiles and then jumps a little when the buzzer sounds, signaling James has let them in. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous.

“Pri-vet!” James’ tinny voice comes through the small speaker.

“James.” Remus groans at the same time as Sirius delightedly says, “Привет!”

Remus has a sudden sinking and bubbly sensation as he realizes just how well James and Sirius are going to get along. It’s dangerous and it’s wonderful.

James laughs loudly. “Come on up.”

Remus smiles at Sirius and grabs his hand. Sirius gives it a squeeze every few steps they take up the stairs until they’re at the door. Remus is still raising his fist to knock when it swings open.

James is there, grinning wildly, Lily with a fond expression on her face standing behind him.

“Sorry, he was watching the peephole. He’s usually not this…well, no, he is.”

“Sirius Black.” James says the words a little like he’s announcing them to some audience somewhere and sticks out his hand.

Sirius smiles at him, looking only a little nervous, and takes it. “Hello, James. Accent horrible.”

“Very.”

James throws an arm around Remus’ shoulders while Sirius accepts Lily’s tight hug. Remus watches fondly as Lily proceeds to talk a mile a minute at him. Sirius gets that look on his face that sometimes appears when Remus is talking. Like he isn’t quite following perfectly, but he’s happy to listen. For Remus, looks like that are usually followed by a slightly dazed kiss. Remus smiles a little as Sirius nods along then waves his hand, asking her to repeat something. Lily’s hands come up to cover her mouth and she starts apologizing for talking too fast.

“Why don’t we go get the tea ready and I can not be such a spaz?” She laughs, tucking her arm through Sirius’ and sending Remus a wink.

“Should I be worried?” Remus asks, only half joking.

“Nope.” Lily calls over her shoulder.

Sirius’ catches Remus’ eye for just a second before they disappear around the corner. He looks happy.

“Remus Lupin.” James says, pressing one hand to each of Remus’ shoulders and shaking him a little. “Mate. I love him. I love Sirius.”

Remus raises an eyebrow at him. “You’ve said two words to him.”

“Yes.” James pressed a hand to Remus’ cheek. “But you look look like you’ve eaten in the last few days, you don’t look like you haven’t slept in two weeks, and when I opened that door you were already smiling. Remus.” The hand slides back to his shoulder and gives it a squeeze, “I haven’t seen that in…I don’t know how long.”

Remus swallows over a sudden lump of emotion in his throat. He hangs his head a little, trying to blink as hard as he can, before raising it again and smiling at James. He pulls him into a hard hug. He means to say thank you, I love you, to tell James how much everything he’s done for him means, but what comes out is, “I’m moving to New York with him.”

James laughs, patting Remus between the shoulder blades a few times, “Good.”

Remus pulls back, sniffing a little. “Good?”

James grins, “Now I can come visit New York.”

Remus laughs. Tension that he didn’t realize he was carrying falls from his shoulders and he throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut, before nodding, “Right. Anytime.” And then he pulls himself together to say what he’s been meaning to say. “James.”

James scuffs him on the back of the head. “I love you, too.”

~

The sun had long set outside the window of James and Lily’s apartment and the tea had been replaced with Chinese take-out. Lily’s feet were in Sirius’ lap where they sat together on the couch, and Remus looked on fondly from one of the plush chairs, a carton of noodles in his lap. James was on the floor by the table so he could reach the food.

“But like—isn’t that hard? To conduct a business when you don’t know the language that well.”

Sirius shrugs one shoulder and pops a piece of chicken into his mouth thoughtfully. “Only sometimes. If very important, usually have translator. Mostly, can understand more than can talk.”

“Re, have you picked up any Russian?” Lily asks.

Remus catches Sirius’ eye and bites back a grin, “Only a little.”

“Lils, he only knows dirty talk, don’t ask that.”

Lily rolls her eyes but flushes a little, “Sorry, sorry.”

Sirius grins, dimple showing, “No, no dirty talk. Remushya only know ‘I love you.’”

Lily coos at the same time as James says, “Remushu-what?”

Sirius throws his head back and laughs. “Rem-ush-ya. Is little name.”

“Nickname.” Remus clarifies. “They mean different things in Russia. It’s like…it’s a whole system.”

James nods thoughtfully, “Can I call you that?”

“No.” Sirius and Remus answer at the same time.

“Christ.” James laughs, “Fine.”

Sirius points at James with his chopsticks, “You his lover, James? I think no way! Not call, only me get to call.”

“This is too cute.” Lily shakes her head, grinning. “James why don’t you call me cute nicknames?”

Remus snorts. He’s never going to tell them about карамель.

“I—“ James splutters, waving his noodle box around, “Lils!”

“Remus calls me Lils.”

“Not—not like I do?” James’ voice pitches up at the end like a question, and he looks pleadingly at Remus for help. Remus shrugs a little and pushes up from his chair to grab some more food.

He stands over Sirius and holds out his plate, James and Lily loudly discussing nicknames still. “Want to give me some of that chicken?”

Sirius holds a piece out on his chopsticks, poking his tongue out a little and then smiling, “You take.” He raises his arm and presses a gentle hand to Remus’ back, guiding him down until he’s sitting on the outer part of the couch cushion. “Sit with me.” He gentle moves Lily’s feet, which she only briefly pouts at, and sits up, pulling Remus to squish against his side between him and the couch arm. Then he offers the chicken again and Remus narrows his eyes at him but carefully takes the food between his teeth.

“Glad we come.” Sirius says quietly. “Is fun.”

“I’m glad you like them.” Remus presses a kiss to Sirius’ jaw. “I also told James about New York.”

“And I told Lily.” James says.

Lily shushed James but then smiled at Sirius and Remus, “And we’re so happy for you.”

“We’re happy for you as long as you let me visit.” James winced at the balled napkin that hit his face. “Excuse me, us visit.”

“Hey, room waiting for you already.”

Lily laughs, raising her glass to Sirius, but James leans forward. He puts his chopsticks down and just fixes Sirius with this look, his hazel eyes bright and honest. Remus can honestly say he has no idea what is about to come out of James’ mouth to be paired with such a look.

“Sirius…Re, don’t be embarrassed, okay, I say this with love.”

“What?” Remus blinks.

“Thank you, Sirius.”

Remus closes his eyes. Sirius’ hand appears warm around his shoulder.

James opens his mouth to say more but Sirius sits forward a little and holds out his hand, “Is okay, James. Remus cry if you say more.”

Remus rolls his eyes but returns the smile that Lily sends him.

Sirius presses a kiss to Remus’ forehead. “He give me everything when—when everyone think I already have. You know—money, travel, business. You know.” Sirius’ hand makes it up to Remus’ neck, knuckles trailing along the side of it gently until Remus looks up from his lap and at him. “Remus the only one who see.”

Remus’ chest squeezes entirely too tight. He reaches up and takes Sirius hand in his from his neck, holding it tightly between the two of his own.

Sirius smiles, shrugging one shoulder, “Maybe he cry anyway.” His smile grows, “Cry every time I’m say love you. Yes, Remushya?”

“Shut up.” But Remus’ voice comes out fond and raspy. He squeezes Sirius’ hand hard. He wants to kiss him, breath him in, run his hands through his hair. He wants to cry. He wants to do everything for Sirius. He wants to know him inside and out. And it looks like he’s getting there.

~

“So. This is it, huh?”

They’re standing in the doorway, James leaning against the frame. Sirius and Lily are by the waiting cab. Sirius is making Lily laugh.

James grins at him, eyebrows raised. “I’m so happy for you, mate.”

Remus looks up and down the familiar street. He knows it isn’t for the last time, but it feels like the end of…something. “Yeah…me too. Me too.”

James laughs and pulls him into a hug. “We’ll talk soon, okay?”

“We will.” Remus holds on tightly. “Come any time, really, James. I’ll miss you.”

James squeezes him back, “Go.” When he pulls away his eyes might be a little wet. “I’ll miss you, too.”

Remus turns to leave only to freeze when James calls out again. “Oh, and I’ll make sure to call you when we find out the gender.”

“What?”

~

“Gives us good reason come back, visit baby.”

Sirius gathers Remus against him, his front pressed along Remus’ back as they wait for the plane to dock. It’s early, the sky orange, and Remus had watched New York City’s lights appear between the clouds and rising sun. Between James suddenly announcing that Lily’s pregnant, arriving in New York, and the anticipation of going to Sirius’—their home…Remus’ heart is thrumming.

“Excited, Remushya.”

Remus smiles and turns, smoothing his hands up Sirius’ chest and around his neck. The orange morning sun comes through the small plane windows, slanting across the gray of Sirius’ eyes and making them look nearly translucent. “Me too.” He presses a kiss to Sirius’ jaw, then raises on his toes and pulls Sirius down for a deeper one. “What are we going to do first?”

“I’m take you get best bakery. Open early, no line.” Sirius presses a gentle kiss to Remus’ cheek, then the shell of his ear, voice dropping. “Then we go home. Show you new home, so excited.”

Remus smiles hard. “A bakery?”

“For breakfast. Russian food, I’m know family who own. Nice to speak Russian with someone. Best tea, too. Like home. American tea…” He finishes the sentence by crinkling his nose.

“What about British tea?”

Sirius hums, unsure. “Is okay…sometime. Sometime is all…” He smacks his lips a little and crinkles his nose again. “You know? Not know word.”

Remus laughs and presses his palm to Sirius’ cheek, “Yeah, I know.”

Despite the early hour, the city is alive which is both like London and not. The car that picks them up is sleek and black and they seem to wiz through the early morning traffic to a narrow street. It’s full of brick buildings that look a little like they’re falling inward towards them. It should feel a little looming but it’s comforting, in a strange way.
“Baby shop, just Sergei run with wife and two daughter. So good, should be famous for all world.” His hand is warm on Remus’ lower back as he guides them through the honey-wooden door. A bell rings from above them and a wave of baking dough and cinnamon hits Remus, making him realize just how hungry he is.

“It smells amazing.” He murmurs to Sirius, just before a man appears from the back room. He’s tall and broad, maybe in his late forties, with kind brown eyes.

“Sirka!” He starts to speak in Russian when his eyes fall on Remus. One eyebrow raises, “You have brought a friend, I see.”

There’s a slight thump from within the back kitchen and seconds later a young girl—probably thirteen or so—appears.

“Sirka!” She shrieks, smile wide. She ducks under the counter and Remus only just manages to step aside before she’s barreling into Sirius, hugging him around his waist.

“Hello, Nadia.” Sirius says sweetly, squeezing her shoulders.

“Sirka!” Another voice calls, and suddenly there’s another girl around Sirius’ leg, this one looking perhaps nine. “You never bring friends!”

Their accents are more American than Russian, but the smooth lilt is still present in Sirius’ name and their vowels.

“Are you Sirka’s boyfriend?” The younger one asks.

“Zoya.” Nadia hisses at her sister, “You can’t just ask that.”

Zoya looks stricken. “ What? Mama’s always saying he needs a boyfriend.”

Sirius groans and Remus has to suppress a smile.

The man behind the counter—Sergei, Remus figures—sighs. “Mama is not saying that—“

“I absolutely am.” A woman—beautiful and tall—bumps the kitchen door open with her hip, arms full of two trays of steaming buns. Remus’ mouth waters. She slides them into the case, the glass fogging a little and smiles at Sirius and Remus. “Sirius, aren’t you going to introduce your friend?”

“Alena. Sergei.” Sirius’ fingers find Remus’, lacing them together. “This is Remus.” He gives Zoya an exaggerated eye roll. “Is my boyfriend.”

The girls squeal, abandoning Sirius for Remus, staring up at him with wide eyes.

“Hi.” He glances at Sergei and Alena, suddenly feeling a little like he’s meeting the equivalent of Sirius’ parents or something. “I—It’s nice to meet you all.”

“You talk weird.”

“How did you meet Sirka?”

“Do you want to try a Syrniki?”

“Hey,” Sirius laughs. “Just get off big plane, long time, not so much.”

“Remus.” Alena smiles, coming around the corner to give him a hard hug. When she pulls back she cups one of his cheeks in her palms and studies him with kind eyes. Remus can’t help but smile back. “Is very nice to meet you. You both must be starving. You sit, I will bring you tea and breakfast, yes?”

“That—“ He glances at Sirius who is already moving to sit down. “would be amazing, yes. Thank you.”

The girls beat Sirius to explaining what everything is, what’s in what, and Remus tries a bit of everything. Remus loves every bite he takes, but the look Sirius gives him when he tells him as much? He loves that more.

Sirius talks a bit to Sergei and Alena while the girls continue to pepper Remus with questions about London. Even while answering questions about if everyone in London talks like he does, Remus keeps one ear on Sirius’ conversation, listening to him say how Remus is moving to New York with him. He’s still listening when he hears Sergei ask, “So, how did you two meet?”

Sirius takes a long sip of his tea and Remus’ heart doubles in time. He can’t believe they hadn’t discussed the answer to this question. It’s only then that he realized there’s never been anyone to ask it before.

“Random meet.” Sirius says finally, waving his head in a vague way. “Through friend…friend have party. See each other first time there. I’m in and out of town but…” He turns to Remus, smile warm. “Remus put up with on and off. We text, we call. Now we here. So happy, every day.”

“Oh my god.” Nadia gushes, squishing her cheeks and smiling at the same time. “That’s so cute.”

Sirius laughs. “Yes, Remus most cute.”

“You have beautiful eyes.” Zoya says earnestly, staring up at Remus’ face. “They look like caramel.”

Remus feels his cheeks heat, but he can’t help the little laugh that escapes. “Oh. Thank you, Zoya.”

“Is nickname!” Sirius waves his fork around. “I’m call! карамель!” He points it at Zoya. “Most smart.”

Zoya giggles and blushes, turning back to her own tea.

“Remus, you will love New York, I think.” Sergei says, clapping Remus on the back. “Is big city, full of opportunity. Look at us, perfect bakery, perfect family. Very happy when Sirka find us. Very good for business, very thankful for him. Beside, he need someone to make sure he not get lonely. Alone all the time, so young, too, when he first came. What were you, Sirka? Twenty? So much talent, in every magazine, but always rushing about. Aways just him. Almost never can stay for dinner.”

“So busy, work so hard.” Alena continues for her husband, dusting some crumbs off her hands. “We are very happy he has you now.” She says it smiling, but she’s looking at Remus earnestly, eyes a little sad. She reaches forward and presses her hand over his own. “So very happy.”

Remus sends her the most reassuring smile he can muster despite the emotion surging through his chest at the thought of an even younger Sirius, brimming with fame but completely alone in a new country. It makes a surge of protection echo through him. He covers Alena’s hand with his own. “I’m happy, too. Believe me, I…” He looks at Sirius who is looking down at his tea, stirring it slowly with his spoon. Zoya has her head against his shoulder, looking fond and concerned. He glances at her with a little smile, and tilts his head onto hers for a moment before looking at Remus. Remus wants to kiss him and to tell him that he’s never leaving. He wants Sirius to know just how sure he is about that. “Sirius has changed my life.”

Sergei laughs. “He seems to have—what is it? A knack for that, as they say.” Sergei leans forward, eyebrows raised. “Your boy help us keep bakery open.”

Alena smooths her hand through Sirius’ hair, a motherly, affectionate touch, and presses a kiss to his cheek. “So generous.”

Remus hums in agreement into his tea.

“Oh my god.” Sirius runs a hand down his face. “We only talk about me this morning?”

They all laugh, and then there’s the bustle of clearing the plates. Another customer comes in and suddenly Remus and finds himself alone with Sirius at the table.

“Hey.” He whispers, and leans in until Sirius meets him halfway for a light kiss. “You could have warned me that I was basically about to meet your family.”
Sirius flushes, but seems pleased with the association. “Is early! Think maybe just Sergei here.”

Remus laughs, but thinks of the way Sergei talks to Sirius, the way Alena touches him and tells him to drink more tea, eat more food. The way Nadia and Zoya adore him. He tangles their fingers together and brings Sirius’ hand up to his mouth to kiss his knuckles. “They’re amazing. I’m so glad you have them. I mean that. What they said…about you being alone…” Remus swallows, shaking his head like it will get rid of the image.

Sirius shushes him gently, thumb stroking over his wrist. “Is—is true. Was hard, big city. Not know language. But…is okay now.” He reaches forward and brushes his finger over Remus’ cheek. “You know? Is for you. Or—not for, because.” Sirius rolls his eyes at himself. “Still not know language.”

Remus shakes his head. “Don’t be hard on yourself like that.” He presses a kiss to Sirius’ jaw, quick and loving. “Don’t do that, you’re incredible.”

Sirius sends him a little smile, pulling on Remus’ chair’s leg until they’re pressed together and smiles down at him.

“He never have anyone to tell him that before, Remus.” Alena appears at Sirius’ shoulder, delicate hand draping over his shoulder and squeezing.

Remus takes his tea cup between his palms and shrugs. “He has me now.”

“He does.” Alena drops a kiss to both of their cheeks. “You come back soon. Make the girls very happy.”

“Always. Can’t go too long without tea.”
Sirius stuffs a one hundred dollar bill in the tip jar and throws his palm over his eyes and laughs when he hears Sergei protest.

“Too much, Sirka.”

“Can’t see. Have to take, don’t know what you say.”

Sirius bundles Remus against him in the chilly early morning. The wind has died down since they last were outside, but there are tiny flurries falling now. Remus looks up at the brick that surrounds them. “Is another car coming?”

“No, we walk. Live close.” Sirius takes his coat off and wraps it around a protesting Remus. He pulls the hood of his parka over Remus’ head. “I’m give you coat, not make you walk long time before I buy one for you.”

Remus looks at Sirius in his sweatshirt and beanie. “Won’t you be cold? Cute,” Remus twirls one of the stray curls poking out from Sirius’ hat around his finger. “But cold.”

Sirius pulls a disbelieving face. “Russian, Remus. Not get cold.”

Remus snorts, but accepts Sirius’ hand as they walk up the cobblestoned street. “What part of the city are we in?”

“West Village. Small, quiet. Safe. Near office.” Sirius lets out a sigh, sounding completely content, and swings their laced hands between them. “Good food, tea, and now has you. Perfect. Such perfect.” He lets out a laugh that sounds a little teary.

“Sirius—”

“No, no,” Sirius laughs again. “Happy, happy.” He tugs at their hands, spinning Remus towards him and kisses him hard, right there in the middle of the street. “So happy.”

Remus smiles against his mouth. It’s warm against the chilly snow falling, and Remus feels a similar heat curling through his chest. He wants more of Sirius’ warmth.

“Take me home.” He whispers.

Sirius seems to feel his want in his words because he exhales shakily and nods. “One block. Come with me.” He smiles, slow and steady. “I’m warm you up, baby.”

Heat spikes down Remus’ spine at the words alone.

While they walk all Remus can think is how gorgeous Sirius’ dark hair looks in the snow. He’s tall and broad, blinking snowflakes out of his eyelashes as he points out his favorite restaurants and shops to Remus.

“We go there for croissant tomorrow, baby, okay?” Then he snorts at himself, “If we leave house.”

Remus smiles, pushing up on his toes to press his nose into the warmth of Sirius’ neck. “I hope we don’t.”

“Come on, come on.” Sirius huffs, pulling them forward together. “Oh my god, can’t say these things to me, Remus. Right here, come on.”

They come up to a building, slightly taller than the rest because of the part on the top. It looks like Sirius added it on, and it perches beautifully on top of the roof like a sort of modern tree house. The brick and wood are almost puzzle pieced, melding like they were always meant to stack together that way. Large, arching windows cover most of the facade, and Remus can practically taste how beautiful the view must be of the river behind them and the rest of the city. It looks cozy in the fresh snow.

“Sirius…did you—you made that.”

“Yes, buy building and build top for myself.” Then he grins, nosing dipping into Remus’ hair. “For us. I’m show you, get you out of cold.”

The lobby is empty when they go in except for a woman and a dog who smiles at them. Sirius presses himself all along Remus’ back while they wait for the elevator. He kisses his neck while they ride to the top floor. Remus is expecting a hallway when the door opens, instead he finds a wide, open living room.

He stands staring, lips parted, until Sirius laughs softly in his ear and walks them forward. “Welcome home, baby.”

The ceilings are a pale concrete, the walls painted a warm slate gray and white. The windows are clean and high arching, and the morning light spills against the hardwood floors, the same light wood as the outside. It has the warmth of a summer cottage, and the stability of the city around them.

“Sirius…” Remus holds Sirius’ hand for another moment before moving them to walk further into the apartment.

The ceilings are high, ten feet at least, and two huge couches are facing out towards the windows.

“You don’t have a TV?”

Sirius laughs, “First question?” But he walks over to the window and—and taps it. The window darkens instantly and the news flicks on.

“Holy shit.”

Sirius smiles, and when he touches it again it flicks off. “Same in bedroom.” Sirius’ tongue comes out to wet his lower lip, and he shoves his hands in his pockets, looking up at Remus through his lashes. “I show you that next?”

Remus smiles. “Mhm.”

Sirius crosses the room to him, hands finding Remus’ cheeks and kissing him hard. He inhales shakily when he pulls away, thumbs stroking his face slowly, like he’s making sure Remus is real. “Remus.”

Remus presses himself to Sirius’ chest, his hand trailing down to his hips until he can run his palm along the hard length of him through his jeans.

Sirius’ breath punches out of him at the touch and he sends him a hot look. “You not sleep this night.”

Remus’ eyes flutter shut and Sirius’ lips run down his neck. “Remushya. I’m take care of you. You feel how much I want?” His hand covers Remus’, pressing his palm into Sirius’ erection harder. “How much I’m need you.” He walks them forward until Remus feels his back hit a wall. He feels fuzzy at the edges with Sirius’ lips against his skin. “You hear today, with Sergei and Alena. About when I’m all alone. You say I’m change your life.” Sirius’ lips make their way all the way to Remus’ from his jaw and cheek. They stay there for a moment, just breathing each other’s air.

“Remus.” He says softly, and presses their bodies together, tucking one of Remus’ curls around his fingers. He moves their hands up to his own chest, pressing Remus’ palm flat there so he can feel the strong beat of Sirius’ heart. “You change mine.”

Remus lets out a shaky breath and relishes in the way Sirius is crowding him against the wall. But he wants more. He wants to feel Sirius pressed entirely against him with nothing in between.

“Show me our bedroom.” Then he cranes his neck up, their lips brushing. He reaches up and pushes Sirius’ beanie from his head, running his fingers through his thick, dark hair. “Take me home.”

He says it because, while the apartment is gorgeous, its nothing, all of it, everything is nothing, without Sirius.

Sirius’ breath is a quiet sound of relief and togetherness, before he kisses Remus.

“Jump.” He says, and Remus does, legs locked behind Sirius’ back.

They both laugh a little and Remus presses his hands to Sirius’ cheeks while Sirius walks them into the bedroom.

“That was hot.” Remus says between kisses and Sirius smiles against his mouth, smacking a loud kiss to his neck.

“Is what I’m here for.” He kisses Remus and then promptly bounces him onto the bed. He holds his arms out. “How you like?”

Remus grins and stretches out, arms over his head and toes pointed. “Big bed.” He reaches out for Sirius. “It has you in it. It’s perfect.”

Sirius rolls his eyes, but he looks more fond than anything else. “Okay, I’m ask again after fuck.” And then he’s reaching behind him to tug his sweatshirt over his head, smile sly. “You tell me how you like.”

Remus grins, but his mouth goes dry. “I like.” He hooks his ankle behind Sirius’ knee and pulls until he’s forced to kneel above him on the bed. “I’ll show you how much I like.”

“Yes?” Sirius bends, nosing along the waistband of Remus’ jeans. When he reaches the bulge, he mouths gently. “I’m think I can already tell.”

Remus bites his lip, reaching behind him to hold onto one of the plush pillows, Sirius’ mouth hot against him.

~

Remus is blinking bleary-eyed at the ceiling and practically melted into the sheets. Sirius is mouthing sleepily at his neck, his bare thigh tucked across Remus’ hips and slowly softening, sensitive cock.

Remus turns, groaning a little with the effort, and lets Sirius press his face further against his neck, head on his shoulder, and wrap himself further around Remus.

“You’re such an octopus after sex. Well, no, sort of always.” Remus says, rubbing a warm hand up and down Sirius’ hip and thigh.

“What word.”

Remus smiles. Sirius also tends to lose most of his English.

“Octopus.” Remus says again. “With all the legs. You wrap around me like—“
“Not know.” Sirius sighs. “Я не знаю ни одного из этих слов, ты сделал меня слишком хорошо.”

Remus laughs at the same time as heat spikes through his tired body. “And I don’t know any of that.”

Sirius hums and tucks his face further into Remus and the pillows. Remus wonders if he’s trying to block out the afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows.

“Hey, do you have shades?”

“Touch wall.” Sirius snuggles closer. “Behind head.”

Remus snorts. “Of course.” He cranes his head back and, sure enough, there’s a little plate of glass inserted into the wall with touch-screen labeled buttons. He slides his finger against the shade panel and the room and window darkens in time to his finger. “Whoa.”

Sirius bundled Remus closer, effectively batting his hand away from the wall and tugging it back around his waist. “Cuddle, Remus.”

Remus has to laugh at how much of a demand it sounds like, but there’s no way he can say no to that. “Our sleep schedule’s going to be so fucked if we sleep now.”

“Not worry, cuddle.” Sirius says simply, sounding like he’s already half way to sleep. “Love you so much.” Are the last words he breathes out before his next breath is a soft snore.

Remus smiles, and settles down against Sirius’ warm body. He is pretty tired from traveling, and any energy that the tea and breakfast gave him is long burned off. They’ll probably wake themselves up for lunch later anyways.

“I love you, too.” He says, and sleeps.

~

Remus wakes up first to the coolness left all along his body from Sirius getting out of bed with a groan. What he first registers is that it’s dark outside. It takes him a few seconds more to realize a phone is ringing.

“Where—“ Remus blinks out the huge window and can only just see the outline of New York lights through the tint. Then his eyes find Sirius, back towards him and completely bare, stumbling towards the general direction of their clothes.

Sirius grumbles something in Russian and then the ringing stops. “да?”

Remus groans and flops back against the bed. “Please say you don’t have to work right now.”

There’s silence for a few more beats, then Sirius speaks again, voice lowered, practically a growl. “What fuck you say?”

Remus blinks his eyes back open at that, eyebrows furrowed.

Sirius’ entire back is tense. “You never speak about Remus like that.”

Remus pushes up on his elbows, heart dropping. His ringtone. How didn’t he recognize his ringtone? It’s the one he only uses for clients, it’s the one he hoped Sirius would never hear.

Sirius’ knuckles are white around the phone. “You never call again. Remus not in this line of work. Fuck off, gross fuck.”

Then he hangs up with a hard tap of his finger and lets out a hard breath. “Remus.”

Remus’ face feels hot. “I—Thanks? For getting rid of David.” Because of course he knows who that was. A cold trickle runs down his spine just thinking about it. But…he’d tipped well. Very well. And sometimes Remus didn’t have a choice. He opens his mouth to tell Sirius as much when Sirius turns. He doesn’t say anything, just crawls back on the bed, right over Remus, and settles their bodies back together.

“Remushya.” He very nearly whispers it. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and hesitates like he can’t decide how much he wants to say, before he can’t seem to help himself and it all comes out in a rush. “Where he hurt you, how much—many? I—Remus, you—I—you need me to, or anything—“ He looks frustrated, eyes glassy. “Remus he say bad things to me.“

“I’m okay.” Remus runs soothing hands up Sirius’ sides. “I mean that, I am. David…yes, he was…” Remus sighs. “Rough. More often than not. But I never, I would never let it get too bad.”

“Is all too bad.” Sirius says disbelievingly. “Remus. Is all too bad, if it even little bit—not happy. There no—like…no question. Is all bad—“

“Well, I didn’t exactly always have a choice.” Remus can’t keep the edge out of his voice and he sits up, a strange sort of annoyance burning in his chest. Maybe not all annoyance, a little shame. He can’t stand the taken aback look on Sirius’ face so he sighs and pushes away from him. “I’ll be right back.”

He goes into the bathroom, swiping his boxers on the way and closes the door. And immediately feels shitty because of it. He groans and pulls his boxers on and opens the door again. Sirius starts a little, sitting up on the bed with the sheets pooled in his lap looking like a kicked puppy. Sad, shoulders low, lashes thick as he looks through them.

Remus runs a hand over his face and takes a few long strides towards the bed before climbing right back into Sirius’ lap and kissing him hard. “Sorry, sorry, sore spot.”

Sirius blinks at him. “I…sore spot?”

“I—“ Remus closes his eyes, trying to find different words. “I don’t like thinking about that. I just…I know it was bad, okay? I was there.” He bites his lip at how harsh that still sounds and tries to soften it by pressing a gentle kiss to Sirius’ mouth again.

“Sorry, baby. I…I’m get angry when hear…” Sirius’ eyes darken again and he holds Remus tighter. “I’m just talk, hear his words in head and when I’m—see you on bed, all naked, and I have to think about him be with you, be—“ His voice chokes off. “Be bad with you…”

“I know. I understand why and I, you know, overreacted.” Remus pressed another kiss to Sirius’ mouth, then his cheeks. “I love you. For wanting to protect me.”

Sirius sighs into a small smile. “I love you. Sorry for…yell.”

“You didn’t yell. If anything, I yelled—a little. I…let’s just not be sorry, okay?”

Sirius nods and kisses Remus’ lips softly. “Not sorry for protect.”

Remus smiles against his lips. “Good.”

They stay like that, kissing slowly, limbs draped around each other until Sirius’ stomach growls.

“Oh.” He says, and Remus laughs.

“We basically slept all day. It really is bad, with the jet-lag and all.”

“Is fine.” Sirius says. “What we have to do? I’m go to work Monday, today Saturday.”

Remus hums sadly. “Work.”

Sirius kisses his forehead. “I’m come home to you by four, promise.”

Remus nods. “I guess I’ll just…walk around. Explore the city a little. Until I find a job.”

Sirius gives him a disapproving look. “Remus, what? No, you relax and think about what school. That all.” Sirius brushes their noses together. “You buy everything you want, walk around city, I’m meet you for lunch and dinner.” Remus groans and Sirius laughs. “Yes, is true, I’m…what call again? I’m say before, can’t remember…” Sirius’ lips purse for a moment, then his eyes light up. “Spoil, spoil.” He pats Remus’ ass, grinning. “I’m spoil you.”

“You already spoil me.”

“Yes, it just get worse.” He says it with an obnoxious amount of glee.

Remus presses a kiss to Sirius’ forehead. “As long as you come home.”

Sirius presses a kiss to Remus’ forehead in return. “Always come home to you.”

Chapter Text

Remus was slowly learning the streets of New York. He was slowly learning what good coffee tasted like. He was getting to know Sergei and his family. He was getting to know what it was like to watch Sirius make eggs in the morning and eat them together right from the pan with pieces of toast to mop up the runny yokes. Clothing optional.

What he was not learning, was how to use the credit card Sirius had folded into his hand with a kiss.

“Is mine, so is yours.” He had said, and looked so positively happy while saying it that Remus had just kissed him back.

“Are your mine, too?” He had murmured against Sirius’ lips.

Sirius’ gaze had turned stupidly soft. “Most yours.”

It wasn’t that he wasn’t trying. Here he was, walking the snowy streets, Christmas shopping. Trying. Trying to Christmas shop for Sirius. He didn’t even know what stores to start in. Everything seemed impersonal, expensive, and, honestly, stupid. What would a watch or a new pair of shoes really mean to Sirius, who—as Remus had now seen—had so many of each? He lasted a couple hours of uncomfortably entering a few high-end stores before he found a cute looking cafe, ordered himself his second cappuccino of the day, and turned to the internet, desperate.

Looking up ‘gifts for boyfriend’ was equally unhelpful until—

Gift an experience! Tickets to a concert, or a favorite meal with a special dessert ;)

The site was sketchy and badly formatted but they had a point. Sirius didn’t need expensive things, especially not from Remus. Why would he want to remind Sirius of all the other impersonal gestures he’s probably received?

And…Remus hadn’t cooked for…he didn’t know how long.

“I used to love to cook.” He said aloud, and instantly flushed.

“Sorry?” The guy next to him said, removing one headphone.

“Oh.” Remus tried for a smile. “No, nothing. Sorry.”

He drains the last of his coffee, orders a scone, and begins to look up recipes, then backspaces and adds the word, Russian.

~

Sirius has work until the twenty-third, which is fine, but Remus isn’t above making it hard for him to leave for the office every morning for a week leading up to his vacation time.

“Have a good day today.” Remus says as he lazily palms his already hard cock through his boxers. “Come home soon.”

Sirius glares at him through the mirror as he buttons his shirt with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth.

“Mean.” He tries to say through the toothpaste in his mouth, but all he succeeds in doing is dribbling it onto his shirt. He groans, throwing his hands up and sends Remus a look that practically says, see? Look what you made me do.

“Oh no.” Remus says flatly, then grins. “Guess you can’t go.”

Sirius disappears into the bathroom and reemerges a few seconds later sans toothpaste and shirt. He crawls over Remus where he’s splayed out on the bed and his bare skin is hot where Remus locks his hands around the small of his back.

“You so bad, Remushya.” He presses wet, sloppy kisses all along Remus’ cheeks. “So bad.”

“Do something about it.” Remus presses up against him.

Sirius laughs into his neck, breath hot. When he bites gently, Remus preens into it. “I’m need go, late, Remus.” But he presses a line of kisses up Remus’ neck instead. “Most late…”

Remus sighs and throws his arms around Sirius’ neck, rolling them until Sirius is on his back with Remus above him. “Okay. But come home soon.”

Sirius presses a last lingering kiss to Remus’ lips. “Be home for three weeks after today.” Then he promptly reaches right into Remus’ boxers to get a warm hand around him. “Give you everything.” As he watches Remus’ eyes flutter shut, he grins. “Or maybe nothing because so mean this week.”

Remus’ eyes flash open. “Sirushya.”

Sirius starts to laugh but Remus kisses him hard, too much teeth and tongue, and perfectly.

Sirius is late for work.

~

Overall, Remus feels pretty great about his Christmas present for Sirius. He’d practiced making Piroshki. He remembers googling pictures of it while cradled against Sirius’ chest. It wasn’t so long ago, but it was before everything. Before the first ‘I love you,’ that now felt more natural to say than it was to breathe. It felt like a different life time.

He doubts he’s anywhere near as good as he could be, but they tasted alright to him. The real struggle was hiding the smell and leftovers from Sirius when he got home. Sirius had raised his eyebrows when he suddenly started coming home to fresh trays of chocolate chip cookies every night, but he hadn’t complained.

The other part of the present was a clean bill of health he’d received from the doctor’s. In the end, Sirius had went separately because of his work, and he’d gotten his results yesterday. Remus had pretended his hadn’t arrived yet. Seeing the worried look on Sirius’ face had almost broke him down into confessing, but he held out. For the surprise. For the happy, hot, Christmas sex the surprise surely promised.

It’s Christmas Eve, and Remus banishes Sirius to the living room, which really isn’t much help given that it and the kitchen are practically the same room. In the end, he shoos him into their bedroom instead, turns on the television for him, and shuts the door tight so he can cook in peace.

The only problem is that Sirius keeps opening the door a crack and calling out to Remus.

“Not understand! Why am I hide?”

“Stay!”

Remus grins when he hears Sirius splutter. “Not dog, Remus!”

Remus fights off an eye roll because, honestly, he’s almost finished with the recipe. “No peaking!”

“Peaking? What peaking?” There are a few beats of silence. “This…this sex thing?”

“Watch your show!”

“Not fun without you. Cold bed.”

Remus presses a palm over his eyes, smiling helplessly to himself. He wants to abandon the food and march into the bedroom right then and there, but it will be better like this.

When he doesn’t respond, he hears a grumble and the door click shut again.

It doesn’t open until the Piroshki have been cooking for ten minutes and the butter and meat filling start to smell incredible. Remus is so intent on watching them, making sure they don’t burn, that he doesn’t even hear Sirius until he’s standing right behind him in the kitchen.

“Remushya.” He whispers.

And when Remus jumps, turning around from the stove, he tries to look mad, he really does. But Sirius’ eyes are a little wet, even though he’s blinking hard through it, and he has the soft smile on his face that Remus likes to think only he gets to see.

“You were suppose to stay—“

“Smell like home.”

Remus softens at that, setting his phone down with the timer on it. “‘rushya…”

Sirius blinks from the stove to him, laughing wetly. “Rushya?”

Remus walks forward, skirting the island. “It works doesn’t it? Just sort of slipped out.”

Sirius pulls Remus in, ducking so their noses brush. “You make for me?”

“Happy Christmas.”

“счастливого Рождества.” Sirius tucks his fingers into Remus’ hair. “Baby, Happy Christmas.”

They eat on the couch, Sirius chewing seriously with his eyes closed and making ridiculous noises. He keeps giving Remus little thumbs up and Remus sits there with what he knows is a hopelessly fond smile on his face.

“I’m glad you like them.” Remus crumpled his napkin and set his plate on the coffee table. “I…you know, I tried looking in all those stores for you. For clothes.”

Sirius’ eyes light up. “Oh my god, I’m pay to see.”

Remus shoves at him, laughing. “Shut up. Anyway, nothing was working. And I loved to cook, so…” He shrugged. “I’ll make it for you whenever you want.”

“I’m…make you egg?”

Remus laughs. “Right. And tea.”

Sirius sets his own plate down and pulls Remus towards him until he’s straddling his lap and Sirius can tilt his chin up for a kiss. “Is good trade!”

Remus tilts his head from side to side, like he’s considering it, and then snorts at Sirius’ offended sound and kisses him.

“Hey.” Remus mumbles into Sirius’ lips, eyes falling shut when Sirius bites gently at his bottom on.

“Hey, I’m kiss you now.”

“I have another present.”

Sirius’ eyebrows go up. “Can’t get better Piroshki, Remus.”

“I bet I can.”

He gets up, running into the kitchen for the silverware drawer. “Sorry, I thought we’d be at the table!” He grabs the envelop and pads back into the living room. Sirius wastes no time in pulling him back into his lap.

“Okay.” Remus settles back on Sirius’ thighs, giving him room to hand Sirius the envelope.

Sirius frowns at it for a minute, turning it over. That’s when he spots the name and company logo of his doctor’s office. Remus can feel his entire body still.

“Remus, this…” Sirius’ voice trails off.

Remus can’t help the sudden bubble of emotion that lodges itself in his throat. He holds his hands close to his chest and nods quickly. “Yeah. It is.”

“Is gift.” Sirius looks from the envelope to Remus, eyes hopeful. “So, is good news.”

Remus can only nod.

Sirius lets out a long, shaky breath and puts the letter aside without another glance. Instead, his hands find Remus’ hips, large palms hitching his shirt up and pressing up his back. He smiles a little, dimples appearing. “I’m…shiver little bit. Wrong word.”

Remus touches their foreheads, trailing his fingers down Sirius’ jaw and neck. “Why are you shaking?”

“Excitey.” Sirius makes a face. “No, wrong end…Is not like happy, no?”

Remus laughs so hard he thinks he would have ruined the mood if he hadn’t been sitting snuggly on Sirius’ lap.

“Not laugh!” Sirius turns his head to nip gently at Remus’ ear.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just—” Remus gasps a little, laugh fading into a smile as Sirius kisses gently at his neck. “It’s funny hearing the word ‘excitey’ in a regular context.”

Now that Remus thinks about it, as he runs his hands over Sirius’ shoulders, he is shaking a little. A fine tremor beneath his skin. “Love, you are shaking.”

Sirius pulls Remus closer. He’s not laughing anymore. His eyes are dark and warm. “Because want.”

Remus’ breath punches out a little at that. He presses closer to Sirius and kisses him, licking slowly into his mouth, the warmth like a preview of what’s finally, finally to come. “I want you, too.” Remus says, and leans forward until Sirius is pressed back against the couch. “I’ve wanted you—”

Remus’ phone rings. It vibrates against the glass of the coffee table and both him and Sirius freeze. Sirius, being the one facing the room, sees the phone first. His eyes darken in an entirely different way.

“I’m get him out.”

Remus’ protests are cut short by Sirius laying him gently to the side, his large palm passing over Remus’ hair, before he scoops up the phone and accepts the call.

“David.” His voice is low, his accent making the ‘v’ sound almost like a snarl. “I’m tell you before.”

Remus holds his breath. From this close he can hear the general tones of David’s voice and snippets of their conversation.

David says something that sounds like he’s cursing Sirius out for being Russian. And Remus is distracted, for a moment, by the anger that fills his chest at that. He stands, ready to take the phone straight from Sirius’ hands and give David some choice words of his own, when—

He stops. David is yelling now and his voice is loud enough to hear clearly.

He stares at Sirius’ back, his broad shoulders. The hair curling at the nape of Sirius’ neck.

He finds himself thinking about how well he knows Sirius. How quickly Sirius has become the largest, most important thing in his life. How he could pick Sirius out of a crowd by his back alone. How he’d know Sirius anywhere. How dependent he’s allowed himself to be on him.

He thinks about David. How David couldn’t do any of that. How he doesn’t know the freckles that pattern Sirius’ back, or how Sirius takes his tea in the morning. How he wouldn’t know Sirius if he was standing right in front of him.

Only maybe he would.

Because Remus is sure he just heard David call Sirius by name.

One Year Earlier

Sirius hated parties. He gripped his champagne fluke tighter and gazed hesitantly around the room. That wasn’t completely true. He hated English. He hated how fast people spoke English while at parties. He’d been in the United States for nearly a year and a half and still needed his translator in meetings. He should’ve brought Barry along as his plus one tonight.

This was how parties usually went for him. He was invited for the good work he did, for his status, and a polite conversation was attempted. When the other party figured out he could stumble through little more than a hello, how are you, and a this party is beautiful, by himself, they nodded awkwardly and left him alone.

He should’ve brought Barry.

Sirius sighed and sat down on one of the huge, dark blue velvet couches. He looked up at one of the large televisions that Mr. Carrow had installed in his apartment for New Years. The ball was dropping in New York City, Carrow’s wife had explained to him, only somewhat kindly. She had talked obnoxiously slow.

“Oh, David adores the ball drop. He’s always trying to convince me to go, but,” she laughed, shaking her head and one diamond clad finger. “Heavens, all the people, Mr. Black. Americans are wild.”

Sirius had nodded. He was too slow to respond though, too busy trying to place the word heaven in context, trying to sound out the word convince in his head.

“Most nice.” Was all that he managed, the same sentiment he had used to her earlier, when complimenting her home.

Her smile had wavered and she’d walked off with the excuse of wanting more champagne. He’d been alone since then, the past hour and a half. The clock read 11:45.

Sirius watched the television. People were drunk and screaming, dressed in clothing that was in no way suitable to the New York winter outside. It didn’t look very impressive. It didn’t even look very fun.

The couch dipped heavily next to him as someone sat down—or more like fell—into place beside him.

Sirius straightens up, preparing himself to smile and nod, all the while not being able to understand a word of drunk English. He doesn’t look over, doesn’t want to be the one to initiate anything.

“It’s hot in here.”

Sirius has to look over then because the voice isn’t gruff and slurred, but young and—well, a little slurred. The boy it belongs to is young, too. Sirius would guess that they’re about the same age even, which takes him even more off guard.

The boy is also staring at him with expectant, sleepy eyes that are—Sirius doesn’t know the word for that color in English but he wants.

Sirius nods, licking his dry lips. “Hot. Yes.”

The boy doesn’t seem to mind the short response, but he does notice the accent and smiles a little dopily. “Are you from Russia?”

Sirius notices the boys accent, too. He nods, and tries to find the right word. Relief floods him when he comes up with, “England? From here? London?”

“Exactly.”

“I’m…Exactly?” Sirius questions.

Remus blinks sleepily at him, thinking hard in his champagne muddled state, then his eyes light up. “You…You are correct?”

“Ah.” Sirius nods. “Yes.” But Sirius doesn’t have a lot of time to feel pleased for himself because suddenly the boy is tilting forward a little, his eyes slipping closed. “Hey.” Sirius catches him gently by the shoulders and the boy’s eyes fly back open. His pupils are dark and blown and Sirius frowns at him. “You okay? Not look okay.” He glances at his own drink, set on the table in a hurry. “You drink?”

The boy shakes his head. “Water. I don’t drink while I’m working.”

“Working? Is party.”

The boy sends him a desperately sad look, one Sirius can’t quiet interpret. His eyes flit all across Sirius’ face, landing on his lips for a few long moments, then dragging back up to his eyes. “You’re very nice.” Is all the boy says, then closes his eyes again and bows his head a little. “Fuck. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Sirius tightens his hold on the boy, supporting him as discretely as he can. His eyes find the mostly empty balcony, everyone having come inside to get ready for midnight. Sirius tilts the boy’s chin up with gentle fingers. “Hey, I’m—I’m take outside. Help.”

The boy nods. “That sounds nice.” He lets Sirius support most of his weight as they walk towards the open terrace doors. Sirius can already feel the bite of winter from here, but it feels nice, especially with this boy so warm in his arms. London is busy below them and he lets himself pretend for just a second that they’re here together. Maybe that they will kiss at midnight. He knows that’s the tradition. He pretends that they never want to be parted, and that maybe this boy loves him—

It’s just a second. He’s had some champagne. He figures he can allow himself a second.

“You not drink?” Sirius asks again. The question sounds stupid being repeated but he doesn’t know how to translate his are you sure.

The boy shakes his head firmly again, then winces at the motion and lets it loll onto Sirius’ shoulder. “No. I…No.”

Sirius nods, suddenly feeling a little uneasy, but the boy just sighs and ducks his head beneath Sirius’ chin. Sirius’ chest catches with the warm breath on his neck. “‘m sorry, this is so inappropriate.”

Sirius doesn’t know that last word, but he catches the “sorry” and so he hesitantly places his arm around Remus’ back. “Most okay.” He rubs small circles. “I’m—I’m think you go? Home? Not feel good, go home.”

“Can’t.” Remus mumbles into Sirius’ skin, lips brushing his neck. “He paid for the night.” And then, softly. “What’s your name?”

“Sirius.” Sirius says. “What’s your name?”

“Remus.” He—Remus—looks up at him then.

Sirius smiles gently at him. “Hi.” He wants to ask what he meant that he was receiving money tonight. He looked down at Remus’ outfit, but he didn’t seem to be a waiter. He was dressed in a simple suit, one that was clearly not tailored to fit him but nice all the same, the lines clean.

Remus blinks. “Hi.”

“Remus! There you are, boy.”

Sirius looks up to see David leaning against the doorframe, two flukes in hand. While he instinctively pulls Remus closer, Remus straightens up like Sirius burned him.

“Hello, Mr. Carrow.”

“I see you’ve met Sirius here.” David comes closer, pushing one of the glasses into Remus’ hands and settling Sirius with a hard gaze. “Looking a little cozy.”

“I wasn’t feeling very well. Sirius offered to help me outside.”

“Is not feel well.” Sirius says because, suddenly, everything is making perfect sense. The money. Mr. Carrow. “Remus—go home?”

David laughs, hardy and cruel, and tucks Remus roughly beneath his arm and out of Sirius’. “God, Sirius, listen to you stuttering. I think you don’t understand.”

Sirius feels hot annoyance prickle beneath his skin. “I’m understand.” You’re taking advantage of this boy who feels like he has no choice. You’re a sick fuck. Sirius has heard, through Barry’s translation, the horrible things David says about his wife to his friends. He’s suffered through many dinner parties while working this project, all of them having after dinner drinks where things have been said about people’s partners that make him sick to think about, not to mention repeat. He knows exactly what’s going on. He vows right there to never work with David again, no matter how much it pays.

David almost scowls. Almost. Sirius can see it play at the corners of his mouth before he jerks it into a smile. “Very well. It’s about time for everyone to head to the after party, anyway. You should maybe go home yourself, Mr. Black. It will be too loud for you to understand anything.”

Sirius looks back at Remus who has barely looked up since David got here. He may seem Sirius’ age, he probably is, but right there, on the balcony with the snow beginning to fall, he looks young and fragile. And Sirius may only know his name, but he feels a wild sort of protection flare in his chest as David drags Remus out of view.

Remus looks back once, and Sirius feels that look settle heavy in his chest.

Sirius doesn’t forget about him, not even when its been almost nine months and he comes across David again at a convention. He saw David’s face and thought, Remus, before David even brought him up.

“A good time, I’ll tell you that.” David grins out of one corner of his mouth. “You can fuck him like an animal and he’ll be as loud as you want. Never complains. Can send him on his way right after with a limp and not even then.”

Sirius makes a split second decision for the sake of those eyes, whose color he can’t quite name yet. They remind him of warm sand of Miami and…something sweet. He smiles to himself at the thought and lets David take it as a smile at the disgusting joke he just made about Remus’ ass.

“Ask him for Remus’ contact information.” He says to Barry in Russian.

Barry shoots him a vaguely alarmed look. “I didn’t know you were interested in…that kind of operation.”

“I’m not. I’m interested in keeping someone who is kind safe.”

Barry’s eyes soften some at that and he relays the message.

Later that night, Sirius has set up a meeting at a hotel in London. Suite twelve.

Chapter Text

Present Day

Remus sits on the couch, staring at the ground. “He…he put something in my drink.”

Sirius comes and kneels in front of him a few inches away. “I think. Remus—”

“I met you?” Remus says, looking up. Sirius’ face is blurred from tears. “I—I can’t—I can’t remember. I don’t…”

But he remembers something. He remembers a burn, and blood and crying on his bus home and—no Sirius. No memory of that party, no memory of David from that night. His breath knocks out of him half sob. “I don’t remember anything.”

He closes his eyes against how scary that is.

Sirius starts to reach out to him, then stops, instead resting his thumb on the very edge of the outside of Remus’ socked foot, rubbing gently. “Remus, tell me how I’m help you.”

It’s a poor choice of words right now and Remus is so scared, so confused and surprised, that his reply is out of his mouth before he realizes what he’s saying. “You should have helped me then.”

He knows that isn’t fair—it isn’t fair at all—because he’s the one always refusing help. He knows what he would have done if Sirius had tried to fight David on taking Remus away that night. Drugged or not, he would have gone with David. Because he may not remember the night in detail, but he remembers the timing. He had been days away from getting evicted. He wanted to call what Sirius had done a lie. Everything in him was angry. But he couldn’t.

“You kept this from me.” He rasps.

Sirius lets out a breath and drops his head into his hands, fingers digging into his hair. “Remus. Remus, I’m know. So sorry, baby, so sorry.”

“Were you ever going to tell me?” Remus feels like he’s hearing through cotton.

“Yes.” Sirius nods quickly, his eyes red when they look back to Remus. “Yes, I’m find way, but—so mad at me for even get present in beginning, for even want to help because I love you…how—” Sirius voice chokes off and his chest heaves like he can’t breathe. “How I’m tell you we meet because I want to help and—and we not even know together! Each other, I mean…”

Remus shakes his head, hands closing into tight fists. “You—you let me sleep with you…you payed me. How does that keep me from what you were trying to—what, fucking save me from?”

“No, no, Remus, try keep you safe. Want to keep you safe from men like David. Men who hurt. If I’m take up time, make sure you have enough money, don’t need to take bad job. I…” Sirius closes his eyes for a minute, letting out breath. “I sleep with you because…because I…selfish. Is right word? You are beautiful and kind and—and want you close. Think you not stay if I not make it real.” Sirius looks down. “You forget…You aren’t only one hurting when we meet.”

Remus didn’t forget. He couldn’t. His heart feels heavy whenever he thinks about it, how alone Sirius was.

Remus sniffs at that, pressing his palms into his eyes. “I…Sirius.” He looks up, holding his hands up helplessly. “Sirius.”

Sirius takes the hint of an opportunity and pushes himself forward, knees pressed between Remus’ feet, hands splayed on his thighs. “I’m never hurt. Remushya, I’m never hurt. I love you from first saw you. Not joke, Remus. I love you.” Sirius presses up on his knees, hands cupping Remus’ neck in such a tender way that Remus lets out a sob. “I’m not try to save. Baby, you are so strong, not need saving. I’m so sorry—most regret for my life is not take you away first night, New Years. Most sorry.”

Remus shakes his head. “I wouldn’t have gone with you. I—” Remus’ breath hitches. “I’m not—Sirius…”

“What?” Sirius says tenderly. thumbs gentle on the soft skin just below Remus’ ear. “Can tell me every thing.”

Remus shakes his head, pressing his hands over Sirius’. Sirius’ face lights up for a moment until Remus holds them and pushes them away from his face and back towards Sirius. Until he rises, stepping out of Sirius’ reach. “I…I’m not—I…” Remus’ turns away, face crumbling as his breathing gives him away. He wipes angrily at his sticky cheeks. “I don’t know right now.”

There’s a long stretch of silence that Remus at first takes as Sirius not knowing what to say, but when it ends with a wet exhale and a sharp sniff, Remus realizes it was Sirius crying. Remus’ heart clenches and he turns back around. Sirius’ face looks as broken down as his, and he nods without looking at Remus.

“Yes. Okay.” He chokes out, and then disappears from the room. He stays in the apartment though, which Remus is thankful for.

Remus stumbles back to the couch and more falls into it than sits. He feels cold settle into him instantly and presses his hands to his neck right where Sirius’ had been, arms crossed over his chest. He closes his eyes and tries to breathe. He hasn’t felt this sort of cold in a long time, forgotten what it was like. He doesn’t know how he ever survived being used to such a chill.

He makes a list in his head and tries to breathe.

He met Sirius. He was drugged by David and Sirius had helped him outside. Sirius had let him go, suspecting he was drugged. Sirius had been working for David at the time. Sirius had tried to get David to let Remus go home. Remus had voluntarily went with David, also suspecting something was not right.

Remus hadn’t stop himself. Why should he expect a stranger to do it?

He thinks about Sirius the first night in the hotel suite, what Remus had thought to be their first meeting. He was so gentle. It had taken Remus so horribly off guard. He remembers how scared he was, liking the way Sirius felt, the way Sirius was, so much.

He feels so—happy that he’s allowed to love Sirius now, allowed to love him the way Remus is fairly sure he loved him immediately. That first day in suite number twelve.

He won’t end that. He won’t end this.

Sirius is sitting at the end of their bed. He’s already looking up when Remus walks in, no doubt having heard him shuffling down the hall. His eyes are red and glassy, cheeks damp, and hair a mess from pulling at it. As Remus walks towards him he looks like he’s holding his breath in an attempt not to cry, but his lip is trembling and his eyes are so full of tears that the second he has to blink, they betray him.

Remus reaches forward, palms on his cheeks, brushing them away. It’s like the touch breaks him. Sirius’ next breath is a sob.

“So sorry, Remus.” His head tilts into Remus’ palm like he can’t hold himself up. “Please—not leave.”

Remus shushes him softly and kneels before him, a mirror of how Sirius was not a half hour ago. “Me too. I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean it. I—Sirius, you didn’t know me. I can’t expect those things of you. That isn’t fair.”

Sirius shakes his head, knuckles trailing lightly over Remus’ cheeks like he’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen. “Should have protect—”

“You did.” Remus’ voice shook. “You protected me for months and I never even realized. That means you weren’t doing it for anything… any gain. You were doing it for me.” He leans up on his knees, and Sirius stoops enough so that he can bring their foreheads together. “You showed me that I deserve good things in my life. That I can let people…help.” He swallows over his dry throat. “And maybe I’m still struggling with that. I am still struggling with that, but…If there’s one thing I’m sure of, its that you’re good. Sirius, you’re good, and I deserve you.” Remus curls his hands into Sirius’ hair, holding him close. “And I’ve never been able to say these things. Never in my life. And now…I can only say them—I can only say that I deserve good because of you. Because you protected me from the bad. I shouldn’t have yelled. I won’t leave, not if you don’t want me to.”

“Don’t want.” Sirius says quickly. smoothing his hands down Remus’ shoulders.

Remus nods, “Okay.” He leans down, silently asking. “Okay.”

Sirius obliges, tilting his chin up and kissing him hard. He makes a soft noise into it and presses their lips together like he can’t get close enough.

“Hate fight.” Sirius sighs.
Remus winces. “Me too. Let’s not do that.”

Sirius laughs wetly. “Yes, not do that.”

The funny thing is, Remus sort of believes it. He knows that’s what couples do, he’s seen James and Lily enough times, but…God. He believes it. Even if they do fight, he can’t imagine being angry with Sirius for more than five minutes.

“Want to know something?” Sirius breathes.

“Hm?”

“Think you’re beautiful first time I’m see you. Tell me room so hot. I’m think he’s hot.”

Remus huffs out a little laugh. “I think I knew that.”

“Just tell you again, anyway.” He kisses Remus’ damp cheek. “Beautiful when smile, beautiful when cry. Always beautiful. Come?”

Remus pushes himself up from his knees and lets Sirius gather him against his chest, hands on his hips. He wraps his legs around Sirius’ waist and tucks his face against his neck, breathing in. Sirius is warm and Remus feels a sour guilt in his chest ever doubting him, even for a moment. Sirius’ hand rubs up and down his back.

“What you want to do? Just relax, go walk, desert, go sleep. Open Christmas present?”

Remus laughs for real this time because of course. “Christmas is tomorrow.”

Sirius presses a kiss to the corner of Remus’ mouth. “Good present, though.” He smiles when Remus does and squeezes his hips. “Point is…know what we doing before…”

Remus nods. The clean bill of health, which meant…

“Telling you, emotion thing happen. Not have to do now. Have whole lives. Want you happy. Comfortable.” Sirius winces, smiling a little. “Hard word to say.”

Remus kisses him hard. “That.” He gasps, before leaning in again. “That is why I love you. Right there.”

Sirius hums into the kiss and Remus reaches between them, tucking his fingers beneath the hem of Sirius’ shirt.

“I want to.” He whispers, and presses his fingers up his chest. He can feel the cool metal of the ring there. “I want you.”

Remus feels Sirius shiver against him, just a little. “Whatever you want.”

Remus brushes their lips together, barely. “Take off your shirt.”

Sirius hurries to comply, reaching behind his head to tug the material free. “Next?” He smiles.

“I’m giving all of the instructions here?”

Sirius’ grin widens, his eyebrow cocks up a little. “My turn?”

Remus hums in approval.

“Take off my ring.” Sirius pulls his bottom lip into his mouth for a moment. “Put on.”

And then it’s Remus’ turn to shiver. He takes the chain between his fingers and tugs it over Sirius’ head, getting caught on his ears a moment and making them both laugh. It dangles between them, and Remus thinks about the first time he ever saw the ring. How he thought it had meant that Sirius was married, and how he’d had to deny to himself that his hopes had fallen. And then finding out what it really meant, that night in bed when he’d felt someone’s full attention for the first time in a long time, and not on his status, but on him.

Remus slips it over his head and it falls to the center of his chest. It’s warm from Sirius’ skin.

Sirius’ eyes are glued to it and his lips are parted like he’s trying to draw in air. “Nice.” He says softly, and Remus laughs.

“Yeah?”

Sirius nods. He hooks his fingers into the chain and tugs Remus closer with it. “I’m think about for long time.”

Remus leans down to kiss Sirius’ bare shoulder, right where the chain would usually rest, and then over the hard muscle there. Sirius’ voice is still a little thick from crying, and Remus wants to change that, wants to make it so all he knows is that Remus loves him.

“I’ll wear it whenever you want.” Remus kisses up his neck, over his adam’s apple, and up the other side of his jaw.

“Only necklace?” Sirius says, smile in his voice. His fingers creep up Remus’ shirt and then pushes it all the way off, making the necklace bounce back against his chest. He tucks his fingers into the waist of Remus’ pants almost immediately. “Want to see you.”

The rest of their clothes come off easy and the sheets get untucked and kicked down and then they’re in their own world, skin to skin. There’s no break or fumbling with packages. Remus’ hands fit into the jut of Sirius’ hip bones, before smoothing over to rest in the small of his back, pressing.

He could feel where Sirius was hard against his hip, warm and heavy.

“Remus.” Sirius says against his cheek and ruts softly. “Still okay?”

“You don’t have to ask.” Remus whispers back, and pushes at Sirius’ shoulders until he can flip them so he’s on top. “I’ll tell you, I will, but…I’m pretty sure I’ll always want you.”

Sirius sounds little breathless and he reaches between them, hands soft. “Just us.” He says.

Remus nods.

Sirius huffs out a little laugh. “Still need lube.” He laughs again when Remus groans. Sirius flips them back and starts to lean away. Remus holds him tighter. “Have to let go, I’m make it worth it.”

Sirius reaches for the bedside drawer, there’s a click of a cap, and then he’s back, and his mouth is hot on Remus’.

“Show you what you deserve, baby.” He breathes, and his fingers toy behind Remus’ balls, thumb rubbing gently at the base of his cock. It drives Remus insane. “Slow.” He whispers against Remus’ temple. “Gentle.”

Remus feels like his heart is trying to punch out of his chest, but he manages to tug Sirius down for a kiss just as he slips a finger inside him.

He gasps. “Not—not too slow and gentle, though.”

Sirius grins. “No?” He adds another finger.

Remus thinks about it for a second. Sirius is always so gentle, so loving. And Remus loves it. It was practically revolutionary for him when they first met, to be handled and treated with so much love. But—But he wants—

“I want to feel you.” He says, voice pitching when Sirius’ fingers speed up, just a little. “I want to feel you now, just you. And I want to feel you after.”

Sirius closes his eyes and drops their foreheads together. “Remus.”

“Fuck me, Rushya.”

Sirius lets out a breath and he leans back onto his knees, spread with Remus’ hips between them. He grips his cock, which is red and leaking pre-come onto their sheets. He gives it a few strokes, and then its shiny from the lube left on his fingers. Remus’ chest is tight with want, and he grabs his own cock, pressure firm around the base. He doesn’t want this to be over. Not for a while. The deep flush that’s working itself from Sirius’ neck to his chest really isn’t helping things.

Sirius’ eyes are dark, but the slow smile on his face is loving and almost excited. He’s the picture of lust.

“I’m take care.” He takes hold of Remus’ legs and spreads his knees wider before wrapping them around his own waist and holding them there. “Hold on tight, baby.”

Remus swears under his breath as the tip nudges at his hole. Because there’s nothing separating them. Remus can feel the warm wetness where Sirius is leaking, he can feel the hot blunt head, but all he can look at is Sirius’ face. It’s tilted down, like he’s putting everything he has into this slow slide, but his lips are parted like he’s a second away from snapping his hips forward.

The thing is, Remus kind of wants this first glide to go on forever. He also kind of just wants Sirius to go for it.

The thing is, it really shouldn’t make that much of a difference. A thin, sheen of plastic or no plastic. It’s barely a barrier at all. Except it is.

Sirius finally bottoms out, and Remus pushes himself up on his elbows to look. He moans and falls back against the sheets.

“Fuck me.”

“Is plan.” Sirius says and, like he’s read Remus’ mind, goes for it.

He can’t help the sounds that are punching out of his lungs. Sirius has reduced him to little breathy sounds and pleas of his name that are slowly getting louder. Sirius presses his hands beneath Remus’ back and buries his face in Remus’ neck and then he’s that much deeper, quicker. Sirius snaps his hips forward and all Remus can do is hold onto him and press kisses to every piece of skin he can reach. He can hear the bed nudging against the wall. He can feel the neckless against his chest and his heart pounding in his ears…and Sirius. Warm and pure.

“солнце.” Sirius gasps. “Can’t—”

“Come.” Remus scrapes his teeth against Sirius’ skin with the word.

Sirius’ back is slick as Remus tries to press him deeper, but Sirius gets the message. He pushes in and holds, grinding his hips there until he’s shaking and falling apart in Remus’ arms. He makes a noise, muffled by Remus’ skin. Remus can’t say anything at all, just gasp for air. He’s so close to the edge and he hasn’t even been touched yet. It feels a little like he’s already come, feeling Sirius spill into him, even though his cock is still a deep red at the tip and throbbing between them. He’s sure he’s never been so hard in his life.

It has to hurt a little, but Sirius keeps pushing his slowly softening cock into Remus, breath ragged against Remus’ throat.

“You come like this.” Sirius says, pushing Remus’ hands away when he goes for his erection. “You come from me inside you.”

Remus makes a high noise in his throat. “Oh god.”

Sirius breathes harshly, but he doesn’t relent. Remus’ body draw taught, his cock jumping nearly painfully against his stomach, and he comes and comes.

Sirius collapses against his chest with a groan and the pressure against his cock makes Remus jolt, but it feels like his orgasm is going on forever.

Sirius sucks bruising kisses into his neck and jaw and lets him ride it out with a loose hand around him, keeping Remus gasping until he jerks away, too sensitive.

“Fuck.” Remus pants, and then again. “Fuck.”

“Love you.” Sirius says into his skin.

Remus sighs blissfully and throws his arms around Sirius’ neck. “I love you. Fuck, you’re so hot, you’re so good. I love you so much.”

Sirius is beaming when he pulls back, proud and sweet. Stray strands of his hair are sticking to his temples. Remus has to lean forward and kiss the sheen of sweat at his throat.

~

They talk until it’s getting light outside. They talk about everything and nothing at all. At 1:33, Sirius remembers.

He gathers Remus to him with a little sound of realization. “Christmas, Remushya. Happy Christmas.” Then he makes an even louder sound and nearly shouts the word, “Present!” and rolls out of bed.

“Hey—” Remus laughs as he watches Sirius’ naked butt disappear down the hallway. “This is my present.”

“So many present!” Sirius voice comes from down the hall. Remus thinks he’s in his office. He distantly hears a drawer shut. It’s another few moments before Sirius reappears. He’s balancing what looks like ten packages, butt naked, and grinning over the top of them. “For my солнце.”

Remus’ heart flops in his chest. “What does that mean?”

Sirius thinks for a moment, dropping all the presents on the bed. The boxes bounce in odd directions. “Sun. But…cute sun? Baby sun? Like baby…warm…puppy…summer…” He shrugs, giving up and climbing onto the bed. “Don’t know.”

“Puppy sun.” Remus repeats, laughing. “I’ll take that, I guess.”

Sirius climbs behind him, leaning back among the pillows, and pulls Remus back against his chest. He hands him a box.

“Open first.”

“This is way too much. I only gave you…” Remus sighs, but he’s smiling and he snuggles back against Sirius.

Sirius presses a kiss to his neck, fingers running over his necklace that Remus is still wearing. “Nothing too much for you. You give me piece of home and most love ever have. Nothing too much for you, baby.”

Remus has to turn around and kiss him, and it takes a few more minutes for them to actually get to the gifts.

The first package is a series of maps. One details all of the best places to get pancakes in New York, another Donuts, and a third Pizza. Remus laughs. It isn’t at all what he expected.

“We have to use these before your next trip.”

Sirius nods. “Yes. Must.” He slides another box over to Remus.

The next few boxes are filled with other little, thoughtful things. The pair of shoes Remus looked at through the window every time they passed that one shop on the way to their favorite brunch place. Soft t-shirts that are like the ones Sirius has that Remus always stole, thick socks because Remus’ feet are always cold and Sirius always groans when Remus presses his toes against his calves when they’re in bed. A book called A Beginner’s Guide to the Russian Language. Remus starts to open that one right away, but Sirius laughs and makes him finish opening first. He pouts just a little. He’s been wanting to try and meet Sirius half way with the language barrier for a long time now.

“Privet.” He says instead, because it’s really one of the only words he can comfortably say. Then he says I love you, because it’s the only other thing he knows, even though he’s pouting. Sirius laughs at him and presses a kiss to his temple.

“All you can say is ‘hi, love you’ to me? Not bad life.”

Remus elbows him gently in the ribs.

When he comes to the last gift, though, he’s speechless.

Remus pulls the tissue paper aside to reveal a messenger bag. It’s the softest leather Remus has ever felt, a light tan, and roomy, but not bulky. He runs a hand over it, and feels a lump form in his throat when he reaches the top.

R. J. LUPIN is imprinted in gold into the leather just near the handle. Remus traces it with his fingers quietly.

Sirius rests his chin on Remus’ shoulder, fingers splayed on Remus’ ribs, thumbs rubbing softly. “Like?”

Remus nods. “Sirius…”

“For school, yes? Whenever you ready, want you to be—prepare.” He presses a kiss to Remus’ shoulder blade. “Open.”

Remus laughs softly because of course. He unbuckles the straps carefully and flips the weighty flap back. Inside are beautifully bound notebooks and a pack of Remus’ favorite pens—a cheap brand that he’s always bought because the ink never clumps.

“You were really paying attention, huh?”

Sirius hums. “Need new ones, you chew all the tops.”

“True.” Remus laughs and pulls out the last thing in the bag. At first, he thinks they’re envelopes, but then he gets a good look at them.

They’re plane tickets. To Russia.

Remus turns so he can see Sirius’ face. He’s chewing his lip nervously, eyes on Remus.

Sirius smiles, a little shakily. “Is next trip I’m talk about. Plan for us. Hope…Hope you come, too? Meet family. Mama, Papa, brother, Regulus. They…” Sirius swallows and Remus feels his hold on him get a little tighter. “They not know about me. Want to tell them, but…Is bad thing in Russia, to be gay. Not good at all. I’m know they not—they not be happy…So, want you there. Want them to know you, boy I love, before they decide. If never want see me again, okay, at least I’m try hardest. I’m…I’m hope it help them.” He tries to smile again, when it falls. “Also, want to show you home. My home.”

“Rushya…” Remus carefully lays aside the bag and the books and the clothes in favor of turning in Sirius’ arms and pressing against him. “Of course I’ll come with you.” He presses their lips together. “Of course I want to meet them. I…I want to learn everything about you.”

Sirius’ smile, although paired with glassy eyes, is bright. “Yes?” He presses a stray curl of Remus’ hair back from his face. “Is perfect because before I’m go back for work and before you start think about applications. I’m show you Moscow, I’m take you to dacha, little house for summer. You love, just us there, and water and sun…and bed.”

Remus smiles. “You take me to places like that too much and I’ll never want to do anything else.”

Sirius leans down to kiss him. “Is fine with me.”

Remus lets Sirius kiss him until he’s a little dizzy with it and he’s sure that if he hadn’t come harder than he ever had in his life a few hours ago, he’d be looking to go again.

“Sirius.” He says after a moment, peppering a few more kisses before pulling back. “Even…Even if it doesn’t go well with your family…” Remus swallows, thinking of his own parents, of how his father had turned him out of the house without even letting him gather anything. About how his mother had simply turned away. He can’t imagine what he would’ve done without James being there for him, what he would’ve done if he’d had to go through that alone. “You have me.” Remus strokes his thumb over Sirius’ bottom lip. “And you have James and Lily, too, if you’d like, and you have Sergei and the girls and…and you’re loved by so many people. Okay?”

Sirius nods, smile soft. “Mean more than anything, you know? Can be…me. You love me for it. Is true to you, too, baby.”

Remus nods, silently adoring Sirius in the dim, warm light of their bedroom, the light touch of his fingers on his skin. He doesn’t know how anything could get better than this, but he has a feeling it will. He wants everything with Sirius, even the ups and downs.

“I know that now.” Remus says. “Because of you.”

And he might call Remus the sun but, looking at Sirius now, Remus has never seen anything so bright.