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Chapter Text

Sirius Black wasn’t sure which of his nosy neighbors left the bright pink flyer taped crookedly to his flat door, but he wasn’t surprised to see it there. The old ladies in his building were forever cooing over Harry and trying to play matchmaker for Sirius, begging to set him up with their granddaughters or that sweet girl from the coffee shop.

“A handsome young man like you, all alone with a baby?” they’d say, letting Harry babble at them and eyeing Sirius like he was the prized hog at a county fair.

Mrs. Smith had even made a Christian Mingle profile for him once, never mind the fact that Sirius was not Christian and had no desire to mingle.

“Look, you already have seven matches!” Mrs. Smith said, showing him her phone screen. The font was so big, he had to scroll for a full minute to see all seven women.

“How did you get a picture of me?” Sirius asked uneasily, eyeing the slightly grainy black and white profile photo of him holding Harry in their block of flats' front garden.

“Oh, I just combed through some surveillance footage from the CCTV!” Mrs. Smith answered cheerfully, ignoring Sirius’s horrified gasp. “I had Barney in security pull some for me on a day you looked particularly handsome.”

Sirius gaped at her, but she seemed unfazed and kept clicking through the profiles, trying to find her favorite.

“Mrs. Smith, I’m sure these women are very sweet, but I don’t want to date anyone right now. And besides, I—”

“But, Sirius, look at this lovely girl!” Mrs. Smith said, pointing to a dark-haired woman wearing Minnie Mouse scrubs and brandishing a huge yellow toothbrush in her hand like a trophy. “She says she’s studying to be a dental hygienist! You have so much in common!”

Sirius frowned, racking his brain to figure out what this could possibly mean. He taught history to 12-year-olds.

“How do we have so much in common?”

“Because you have lovely teeth.”

Oh, right. Of course. How silly of him.

So, no, Sirius was not surprised to see a flyer advertising “Single Parent Story Time!” taped to his front door when he returned from the market. He had a grocery bag tucked into the crook of each arm and tried awkwardly to grab the flyer, but Harry was faster, yanking it off the door in his chubby little fist from his spot strapped to Sirius’s chest in the baby carrier.

“No, no, don’t put that in your mouth, mate!” Sirius said, but it was too late. The edge of the flyer went straight into Harry’s drooling, toothless mouth. Sirius guessed which bag held the eggs and dropped the other one to the floor. He pulled the wet flyer—which now had a chunk missing—from Harry’s fist, then fished around in Harry’s mouth with one finger for the piece of paper that he’d bitten off. It was in soggy shreds, but at least he hadn’t swallowed it.

“Why would you eat paper, my guy?” Sirius asked Harry, as he dug in his jeans pocket for his keys.

Harry just garbled a laugh at him, blowing a cheerful spit bubble and pawing at Sirius’s face. Sirius opened the door, chucked the wet, ripped, crumpled flyer onto the entryway table, and promptly forgot about it while he tried to find the box of strawberry teething crackers in the grocery bag before Harry started searching for them himself.

It wasn’t until after he put Harry down for a nap later that afternoon that Sirius spotted the flyer again. It had floated to the floor at some point during the day, so he picked it up, smoothed it out, and read:

Join us for Single Parents’ Summer Storytime!

Godric’s Hollow Library Children’s Room

Thursdays, 10:00 am

Ages 1-3

Snacks and juice available

“Maybe you should go?” Marlene said on the phone later.

“Maybe I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a dull knife,” Sirius replied.

“Maybe you’ll meet someone,” Marlene countered.

“Maybe I don’t want to meet someone,” Sirius said. “And maybe you already know that.”

Of course she knew. Marlene was the one who had most heartily agreed with his therapist when she suggested that Sirius shouldn’t date anyone for at least a year while he adjusted to his new life as a dad.

It was an easy thing to agree to. Grief and exhaustion were the predominant feelings in Sirius’s life after first getting custody of Harry at just two months old. Now, 11 months had gone by, and although he had almost reached the one-year mark of his no-dating pledge, Sirius found that his interest in men was still absolutely nonexistent.

Sirius had never gone this long without dating someone—or at least fucking someone. Before James and Lily had died, Sirius was what one might call an “enthusiastic bachelor.” (“I’d just call you a slut,” Marlene said).

And so what if he was? He’d toed the aristocratic line for years, reluctantly going on dates throughout his late teens and early 20s with a string of “suitable” girls that his parents kept shoving at him, trying to marry him off. He brought each of these women to dinner, politely let them down over dessert, and quietly lived his life in the meantime.

But when Sirius opened the newspaper to read the news of his own engagement to Lady Sarah Chumley-Wolcott—a girl he’d last seen at the age of 9 when they were caught knee-deep in a muddy pond trying to catch frogs during a fox hunt, and who Sirius knew through the grapevine was dating a well-known lesbian glass blower from Liverpool—he’d finally had enough.

He told his parents—rather dramatically, he could admit now—that he would never marry a woman because “I absolutely adore being fucked by men, Mother!” before storming out of the parlor at Grimmauld Place and never looking back.

He’d more than made up for those years in the meantime, throwing himself headfirst into London nightlife and whoever’s bed, backseat, or toilet stall he fancied until 11 months ago when everything about his life seismically shifted in an instant.

Now, at 27 years old, Sirius had discovered that fatherhood and his newfound celibacy was starting to suit him. A handsome man eyeing him in the shops or on the street barely registered anymore. Sirius noticed them only distantly, if at all. And why would he notice them? He had Harry, Marlene, Netflix, and his hand. He didn’t need anyone or anything else.

But Marlene hadn’t finished harping about the single parent story time at the library just yet.

“Maybe I didn’t mean you’d meet a potential boyfriend,” she replied. “Maybe I just meant that you could find a friend who’s in the same boat as you are. None of our friends have kids, Padfoot. It might be nice to have someone to talk to about shitty diapers and puke and all that.”

She had a point there. Anytime Sirius talked to Marlene or Pete or any of their other friends about baby stuff, he watched their eyes start to glaze over within minutes. But he had to tell someone this stuff! He had questions! Why does Harry always spit out his peas? Was Harry’s runny nose because of teething or a cold? Why the fuck do gluten-free diapers exist? Who is eating diapers?

Instead, he’d taken to writing it all down in a notebook that decidedly did not talk back.

Maybe meeting other parents would be nice.

But then again? New people. Ugh.

“Maybe I’ll think about it,” Sirius conceded.

For three consecutive Thursday mornings, Sirius thought about it.

Thought about it and didn’t go. He just couldn’t muster the mental energy it would take to put on shoes and make small talk with strangers.

But then Harry caught a stomach bug, and Sirius spent five long, torturous days and nights changing sheets and mopping up sick and watching Bluey with a miserable, feverish baby laying on his chest. Harry had actually puked directly into the palm of Sirius’s hand while simultaneously shitting so explosively that it oozed up the back of his diaper and into his hair. Sirius didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so he did both while hosing Harry down in the tub.

By the end of the week, Sirius was so tired of looking at the inside of his flat that he would have accepted an invitation to tea with his mother.

So, on the fourth Thursday, over his coffee and Harry’s dry Cheerios, Sirius broached the subject.

“Harry, I have something important to ask you. And don’t feel like you have to say yes just because you shit on my bare leg three days ago. What do you think of going to story time at the library today?”

“Ya,” Harry answered.

“I feel like you didn’t totally think this through, mate, so I’m going to give you another minute to change your mind.”

“Ya,” Harry repeated.

Sirius sighed.

“But what if the other parents are annoying?”

“Ba.”

“True. It could be really boring, though. Have you thought of that?”

“Goom.”

“You make a very good point.”

“Bye.”

“Well, it doesn’t start for another…” Sirius looked at the clock on the microwave. “Three hours.”

“Kitty.”

“Off topic, but OK.”

“Babababababa.”

“Fine, we’ll go.”

Two and a half hours later, Harry was strapped to Sirius’s chest, and the diaper bag was packed with enough supplies for three days in the wilderness. Sirius stepped off the lift into the lobby where Mrs. Smith was playing mahjong with Mrs. Bagshot and two other ladies from their garden club.

“Oh, Sirius!” Mrs. Bagshot said when she spotted him trying to hurry by unnoticed. “Are you finally going to story time, then?”

Well, there’s the flyer mystery solved, Sirius thought.

“That I am,” Sirius replied.

“Wonderful!” Mrs. Smith said. “Maybe there’ll be a pretty girl there who’s just been divorced. Or better yet, widowed! Ex-husbands can be a right pain in the arse, you know.”

Sirius looked at his watch as Mrs. Bagshot flicked Mrs. Smith across the wrist.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Hep?” Mrs. Bagshot scolded, adjusting her hearing aid as she practically screamed across the mahjong table. “Sirius is a homosexual!”

“Right, of course, I keep forgetting!” Mrs. Smith said, as Sirius looked around the crowded lobby with a tight smile and his cheeks burning. “Maybe you’ll meet a handsome man, then. I’ll pray the rosary for it!”

“Please don’t,” Sirius said weakly, as Harry blew a wet raspberry, spraying spit all over Sirius’s eyes.

“And if you don’t meet anyone at the library, my nephew is visiting today,” Mrs. Bagshot added while Sirius wiped his face with the back of his hand. “He likes the fellas, too!”

“Wonderful. Well, I’m sorry, but I really need to be going,” Sirius said, and rushed out the door, finally reaching the street with a relieved huff.

“Can you believe them?” Sirius asked Harry as they walked.

“Sha!” Harry replied.

The Godric’s Hollow Library children’s room was small and quiet, filled with low tables and chairs, building blocks, and secondhand toys. Beanbag chairs were scattered across the floor amongst the shelves, and posters on the wall implored kids to “Reach for the Stars!” and “Open a Book, Start an Adventure!”

Sirius’s eyes landed on a small knot of parents sitting in a loose half circle on a colorful carpet decorated with the alphabet in the far corner of the room. A librarian sat in front of them in a white rocking chair, while a gaggle of babies squirmed in their parent’s laps or crawled around on the floor.

“I guess this is the place,” Sirius whispered into Harry’s ear as they approached the group. He unstrapped Harry from the baby carrier, settled cross-legged onto an empty spot on the floor, and situated Harry in his lap. Sirius turned around to get a burp cloth out of the diaper bag—Harry was made of 95% drool these days—when a ragged cry tore from Harry’s throat.

Sirius whipped around at the anguished sound. Another baby had yanked Harry’s pacifier right out of his mouth, which was now agape and screaming. The other baby had a messy thatch of blonde curls, complete with a thick chunk of hair that looked crusted and stiff with dried applesauce. The baby stared into Harry’s face—beetroot red, tear-tracked, and wild—with a stunned expression, still clutching Harry's pacifier in his little fist.

But the other baby’s shock was apparently short lived. He looked away impassively and shoved Harry’s pacifier into his own mouth, prompting Harry to scream even louder.

“Teddy!” exclaimed a frazzled-looking man who must have been the blonde-haired baby’s father. He dove across the alphabet carpet at his son, snatched the pacifier away, wiped it hastily with a baby wipe, and shoved it back into Harry’s mouth. Sirius grimaced at the germs being passed between them, and hoped Harry wouldn’t give this kid whatever stomach demon had been living in his body for the past week.

“Here ya go, kiddo,” the man said to Harry before turning to Sirius.

“I’m so, so sorry,” the man continued, wiping a bead of sweat from the side of his temple with the sleeve of his faded Blondie t-shirt. He wore ripped black jeans and black and white Chuck Taylors and had his own messy curls, just like the baby. “I had no idea Teddy would be such a handsy little fucker at these story times, but he’s always grabbing… fuck, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t say fuck in the children’s room. Shit, I did it again, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me.”

Sirius bit his lip, trying not to laugh as the librarian shot them a stern look and began to read The Very Hungry Caterpillar. Harry had mercifully settled down and was now happily sucking his pacifier, leaning his little black head against Sirius’s chest as he listened to how the caterpillar ate one apple, two pears, three plums, four strawberries…

Sirius tried to listen, too, but found his attention quickly waning. Instead, he looked sideways at the other baby’s father, who was now silently wrestling a really big rock out of Teddy’s tightly clamped fist. Where the hell did this kid get a rock?

The man was getting a little pink in the face as they engaged in their silent struggle. He was absolutely not listening to the story, either, and…well, shit he was really, really fucking handsome. He was tall and lanky, with warm, golden skin, soft honey-brown curls, and tightly corded forearm muscles that stretched and flexed beautifully as he tried in vain to pry the rock out of Teddy’s hand. His skin glowed with a light sheen of sweat from the effort of wrangling his apparently feral baby, and Sirius imagined his old self wanting very much to find out what this gorgeous man tasted like.

The man looked up and caught Sirius’s eye. His face broke into a glowing grin, and Sirius’s stomach flipped pleasantly at the sight of it.

“Should I just let him chew the rock?” the beautiful, golden man whispered. “What’s the worst that’ll happen?”

“I don’t know,” Sirius whispered back. “Break a tooth?”

“He doesn’t have any teeth,” the man shrugged and looked at his son, who was, indeed, now gnawing on the side of the rock.

“I can’t believe I have the kid who chews rocks,” the man whispered, looking back at Sirius with a laugh that lit up his whole freckled face and made his eyes bright and crinkly.

Huh, Sirius thought, grinning back at the gorgeous man and his grabby, rock-chewing baby. Maybe single parent story time at the library wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Sirius leaned back onto his hands, half-listening to the story, half-watching the beautiful man, when he remembered his pledge. He had promised himself and his therapist no dating for at least a year. He still had a month left, and besides, he didn’t want to date anyhow, right?

Right.

Harry crawled off Sirius’s lap and started playing with the blocks on the floor, and Sirius shifted, looking sideways at the man anyhow, who now had one strong arm tightly clamped across Teddy’s heaving chest. Teddy looked very much as though he’d like to make a run for it, grabbing every pacifier and rock he could find along the way.

The librarian finished the first book, and Teddy farted, long, loud, and rumbling, like a miniature earthquake. His father shut his eyes and sighed while the other parents eyed them warily.

The librarian sang three songs, and Teddy joyfully shouted his own gibberish along with it, before spitting up something pink and curdled onto his bib. His father mopped it up with a clumsy fistful of baby wipes, which he placed in a messy pile on top of their diaper bag. One dark-haired mother made a disgusted face and whispered something to her friend, not bothering to conceal their stares.

Then, the librarian read Good Night, Gorilla, and Teddy started to finally make his escape. He crawled off his father’s lap and flopped himself straight across Sirius’s legs, where he rolled onto his side, burped, and gazed up at him with a wide, toothless grin.

“Hi,” Sirius laughed, looking back at him.

“Teddy!” his father hissed. He dove forward immediately, scooping Teddy away and accidentally dragging the back of his hand across Sirius’s crotch as he did.

Sirius jumped in—not unpleasant—surprise, and the man’s face went scarlet.

“Motherfucker. I did not mean to touch that,” he stammered while Sirius shook with laughter and the other parents glared at them.

“Remus, perhaps Teddy would be more comfortable outside in the playground today,” the librarian said pointedly.

“Yes, right. Sorry. He’s just a bit…barking today,” the man—Remus, apparently—agreed. He began to hastily pack up their things with one groping hand while holding a squirming Teddy under his arm like an American football.

“Here, let me,” Sirius offered, putting his arms out. Remus hesitated for a moment before gratefully handing Teddy off to Sirius. He packed up as quickly as he could, shoving everything, even the dirty baby wipes, back into the diaper bag without ceremony. The other parents wrinkled their noses at them.

“Thank you,” Remus said wearily, taking Teddy back from Sirius.

“No problem,” Sirius replied with what he hoped was a kind and encouraging smile.

“Sorry about that,” Remus grimaced again, looking around at the group as he stood up. He turned to leave, and the other parents gave each other smugly satisfied looks as he did.

Sirius watched Remus go as the librarian continued her reading. He hesitated for only a few seconds before scooping up Harry and his own diaper bag and rushing to follow him. Marlene was right. He could use a friend, and he certainly wouldn’t find one here amongst these judgmental bastards who couldn’t even laugh at a fart.

“Hey!” Sirius said, catching up with Remus in the car park a moment later. Remus turned around and grinned, which Sirius hated to admit, was doing things to him. He stopped walking as Sirius approached.  

“Tough crowd, huh?” Sirius asked.

“Ugh, you have no idea,” Remus replied, adjusting Teddy on his hip and shooting one last resentful look at the library door. “I don’t know why I subject myself to this shit every single week.”

“Every week?” Sirius asked, astounded. He’d already decided this was his first and last story time.

“Yeah,” Remus grumbled. “None of my friends have kids, so I thought I might try to meet some other single parents. Shit lot of good that did me. They’re all arseholes.”

“Why do you keep going back?”

“I dunno. Nothing else to do, I guess?” Remus said, strapping Teddy into the baby carrier on his chest and sticking a pacifier into his mouth while Sirius did the same with Harry. “Summer hols. I’m a teacher. Usually my mum takes Teddy while I’m at work, but she and Da are off in Majorca until the end of August, so now it’s just me and the little bugger all summer long.”

“Oh! I’m a teacher, too, actually,” Sirius said.

“Really?” Remus asked, stunned. “What are the odds? What do you teach?”

“History to eighth years,” Sirius said. “What about you?”

“Maths,” Remus said, then laughed. It was a fun sound, bubbling and happy, and it effervesced across Sirius’s skin. “Everyone’s favorite! But I teach older kids. Twelfth years. I’m Remus, by the way. But you already got that from my public scolding.”

”I’m Sirius. Like the star.”

”Nice to meet you.”

Remus put out a hand for Sirius to shake. It was large and warm, with long, strong fingers and a firm grip that sent a satisfying little ripple up Sirius’s arm. A flicker of something crossed Remus’s face as they touched, but a moment later, it was gone.

“I can’t believe we got kicked out of story time!” Remus said to Teddy. “Again!”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m never going back,” Sirius said. “That was brutal.”

“It really was,” Remus laughed.

They started walking without really talking about where they were going, turning away from the library and heading in the direction of Sirius’s flat a few blocks away.

“So, who’s this guy?” Remus asked, putting out a finger for Harry to grab. Harry gave Remus a happy, gummy grin, and a little trickle of drool dribbled down his chin. Remus just laughed and wiped it away with the side of his hand like it was nothing as they walked side by side down the street away from the library.

“This is Harry,” Sirius said, putting a hand on the back of Harry’s head and leaning down to kiss him. “He’s my godson, but I adopted him last year after his parents died. My best friend and his wife.”

“Shit, really? That’s awful, Sirius. I’m so sorry,” Remus said, still holding Harry’s hand with one finger. He rubbed his thumb softly across the back of Harry’s hand, and it was such a sweet, easy gesture that it took Sirius by surprise. Marlene and Pete were great, but they barely touched Harry and regarded him like a bomb that was about to detonate whenever they were forced to hold him.

“Thank you,” Sirius said. “It’s been kind of a rough year.”

Sirius paused and looked over at Remus, who was listening with thoughtful attention and kind eyes as he gently held Harry’s hand in his own.

“More than kind of,” Sirius admitted. “It’s been a very rough year, actually. But Harry and I have each other, at least. I just wish the kid would fucking sleep.”

Sirius slapped a hand over his mouth and glanced guiltily down at Teddy, who was resting his chubby cheek against Remus’s chest and gazing sleepily up at Sirius as they walked. He blinked his eyes heavily and the pacifier started to droop out of his mouth.

“Sorry,” Sirius said, pushing Teddy’s pacifier back in before it fell out completely. “I’m still not quite used to having to censor myself.”

“Eh, no worries,” Remus said. “I’m surprised Teddy’s first words weren’t ‘motherfucking motherfucker.’”

Sirius laughed, and felt something unclench deep inside his chest.

“Anyway,” Remus continued, “you said Harry doesn’t sleep. Have you tried a white noise machine?”

“No. I don’t even know what that is.”

“Well, motherfucking motherfucker, I’m about to change your goddamn life.”

Sirius laughed again and felt his chest relax even more. What a relief—what an incredible, profound, intense relief—to talk to someone who really and truly understood the things he was experiencing. Not only that, but Remus seemed to be blundering through them just as much as he was.

They walked and talked for several more blocks. He learned that the dark-haired woman who was giving Remus dirty looks during story time had actually asked him out at the beginning of the summer.

“I told her I wasn’t interested, and she said it was just as well since Teddy seemed to have ‘behavioral issues,’” Remus said.

“Are you kidding?” Sirius said.

“Nope. Now I make sure to annoy the shit out of her every week,” Remus said. “Last Thursday, I gave Teddy a harmonica and a drum to play with the second she sat down. I thought she was going to burst a blood vessel. Makes getting kicked out kinda worth it, doesn’t it, buddy?”

Remus ruffled Teddy’s hair and kissed the top of his head.

Finally, they reached Sirius’s block of flats.

“Well, this is me,” Sirius said, pausing reluctantly outside the front door. This had been the weirdest, funniest—and, Sirius realized, most healing—morning he’d had in a very long time. He hesitated, wrestling with himself about whether he should ask Remus for his number. Getting Remus’s number made sense. Perfect, innocent, platonic sense. They both had babies the same age, they were both teachers, and neither had any other parent friends. He could simply get Remus’s number for friendship reasons. It didn’t have to be for dating purposes at all. And besides, he didn’t even know if Remus was interested in dating men.

They stood in silence for another few seconds, just looking at each other. Remus had beautiful eyes, Sirius noticed. Dark golden brown, like burnt honey, and fringed with long, dark lashes that kissed the apples of his freckled cheeks every time he blinked. His lips were full and almost pouty, and Sirius wondered what they’d feel like sliding down his neck or bitten between his teeth.

Actually, maybe he shouldn’t ask Remus for his number, Sirius thought. A man like him could get very distracting, very quickly. No, it was better to just walk away now. Remove any temptation. He’d find other parent friends somehow.

He was just about to tell Remus that it was very nice to meet him but he had to be going (before fleeing upstairs to put Harry down for a nap and rub one out) when Mrs. Bagshot crashed through the lobby doors onto the sidewalk, dragging a skinny, bespectacled young man behind her. He wore his hair slicked to the side, pleated khaki pants, and a long-sleeved, blue-and-white striped shirt buttoned all the way up his neck, despite the day’s heat.

“Sirius!” Mrs. Bagshot exclaimed. “This is my nephew I was telling you about. His name is Randall, isn’t he a peach?”

“The peachiest,” Sirius mumbled, giving Randall a weak smile.

“I showed Randall your picture a few weeks ago, and he said he hasn’t stopped thinking about you ever since!” Mrs. Bagshot said. “Isn’t that right Randall?”

“That’s right, Auntie Bat,” Randall said, pushing his glasses up his sweaty nose and giving Sirius a creepily eager grin. He had what looked like an entire leaf of spinach lodged right between his two front teeth. “I think you’re the handsomest bloke I’ve ever seen, and I’d be honored to take you to dinner tonight.”

“Tonight?” Sirius said, feeling his face burn with embarrassment. “I…I don’t know about tonight.”

“Pshh,” Mrs. Bagshot scoffed. “It’s Thursday. I know you don’t have plans.”

“Well, I—” Sirius started, but Mrs. Bagshot cut him off.

“On Thursdays, you order prawn vindaloo and put Harry to bed at 7:30,” she said. “Then you listen to the new episode of RedHanded while scrubbing the shower and toilet.”

“How…” Sirius stammered. “How do you…”

“So! I’ll watch Harry!” Mrs. Bagshot plowed on. “And you can go out with Randall! It’s perfect!”

“I don’t think I can—”

“Why not?” Mrs. Bagshot demanded, and Sirius felt dozens of eyes on him. The other old ladies in the lobby were watching through the open windows, pausing their mahjong and backgammon and bridge games to see how this drama played out. Even people passing in the street had paused to listen in. “I know you don’t have a date! You never have a date! And my nephew is right here and positively smitten! So, why don’t you just—"

“Actually, he does have a date.”

Everyone’s heads turned toward Remus, who stepped forward and slung an arm over Sirius’s shoulders. He wrapped a large hand around Sirius’s upper arm and pulled him close.

“With me.”  

Chapter Text

“Open the window, I can’t hear a damned thing!”

Mrs. Smith and the garden club ladies, Mrs. Prewett and Mrs. Figg, crowded against the lobby window, yanking aside the lace curtains and pushing the window up in three creaking, heaving thrusts.

“What did you say, love?” Mrs. Smith asked Sirius, wriggling half her body out the open window. “I couldn’t hear you.”

Sirius stood on the sidewalk in front of his block of flats, where every woman over the age of 70 within a half-mile radius had gathered to watch him sweat. Harry hung from the baby carrier, his little heels kicking at Sirius’s thighs, while Remus’s hand gripped Sirius’s upper arm. It felt oddly reassuring, being pulled close to Remus’s side while everyone stared, waiting for Sirius to say something. He glanced at Remus, and a look passed between them: Raised eyebrows from Sirius and a small nod from Remus, imperceptible to anyone but them.

“I said I, um…have plans tonight. Big, big, huge plans. Huge!” Sirius said.

Remus cleared his throat pointedly.

“I do, indeed, have a date,” Sirius finished quickly. “With him!”

He gestured wildly with both hands, waving them in front Remus in a “ta-da!” kind of fashion. Remus tilted his head toward Sirius’s ear.

“The jazz hands are probably unnecessary,” Remus whispered through a plastered-on smile.

“Right,” Sirius whispered back.

Mrs. Bagshot pressed her palms to her chest.

“Oh! Did you meet at the library?" she asked.

“We sure did,” Sirius nodded.

“Our eyes met at the snack table,” Remus said, looking affectionately at Sirius. “We reached for the very same juice box, and our fingertips brushed together. I felt a powerful surge of electric energy ripple through my whole body, and knew right then that I needed to see this prince again.”

A nervous laugh bubbled up in Sirius’s throat and he swallowed it down.

“That’s right,” Sirius agreed. “It was…electrocuting. Shocking, one might say.”

“I’ll never hear the Itsy-Bitsy Spider the same way again,” Remus added, his gaze drifting up to the clouds, as though lost in memory. He closed his eyes and shook his head with a dreamy sigh. “When it went up that water spout—”

“I think they’ve got the point,” Sirius hissed. Remus shook with silent laughter as Randall glared at him.

“Well, that’s just wonderful!” Mrs. Bagshot said. She looked up at Remus. “Where are you taking him?”

“It’s a surprise!” Remus said. “I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

“And we don’t want that, now do we?” Sirius said. “Well, if you’ll excuse us.”

And he stepped out from under Remus’s arm, grabbed Remus by the wrist, and dragged him into the building.

“Don’t give him the milk for free, Sirius!” Mrs. Figg called after them. “Or else he’ll never buy the cow!”

But Sirius ignored her and kept walking, marching past the lifts and straight into the never-used stairwell. He kicked away the doorstop with the toe of his trainer and let the door shut so they could talk alone in the echoing space. He turned to face Remus and gave him a solemn look.

“This is your chance to back out,” Sirius said.

“Back out of what?” Remus asked. “I just said we had a date so you wouldn’t have to go out with that idiot Randall. Did you see the entire fucking salad he had stuck in his teeth?”  

But Sirius shook his head.

“No. You don’t understand,” Sirius said. “These women? They’re like the mafia! If we don’t really go out tonight, they’ll know! They live in this lobby. They breathe gossip. They watch CCTV footage of me, Remus!”

“So let’s really go out, then,” Remus said with an easy shrug, but Sirius shook his head.

“That’s the other thing,” Sirius said. “If we go out, it can’t be real.”

“You mean we have to only pretend to leave the building?” Remus asked, looking at Sirius like he’d been wrong all along and that Sirius was actually the crazy one, not his elderly stalkers.

“No, I mean, I can’t date anyone right now,” Sirius said, and he launched into a breathless, rambling explanation of his pledge to his therapist not to date for at least a year.

But Remus shook his head and laughed, waking up Teddy, who’d been snoozing against his father’s chest.

“Sirius, I didn’t mean we’d date for real!” Remus said. “We can just get dinner and go to the park. Let the babies play for a bit. I’m actually on something of a dating hiatus myself.”

“You are?” Sirius asked, a drop of disappointment mingling with his relief. Remus was off the table anyhow. Good! Great!

“Yep,” Remus said. “I’m in the midst of a divorce. It’s almost finalized, but we agreed to not see other people until the papers were signed. Therefore, I am the safest person for you to fake date. Pretty good luck, huh?”

“Yeah,” Sirius agreed quietly. “Pretty good luck.”

“Alright then!” Remus said. “How about I pick you up at 5:00? We can meet in the lobby. Make a real show of it.”

“Going out at 5:00,” Sirius laughed. “I guess that’s dating—well, fake dating—with toddlers.”

“Yep. And we'll be passed out on the couch, covered in drool by 8:00,” Remus agreed, and they exchanged phone numbers.

When they were done, a soft smile crossed Remus’s face. He leaned forward. He leaned close. So close. Close enough for Sirius to count each freckle sprinkled across the bridge of his nose. Close enough for Sirius to smell the light sheen of strawberry Chapstick smeared across his lips. Their faces were inches apart, and the rest of him smelled amazing, too, like spicy aftershave, old books, tea, and chocolate. Sirius held his breath, feeling Remus’s warmth against his skin as he got closer, and…

“Bye, Harry!” Remus said, taking Harry’s hand again and stroking it gently with his thumb. “See you tonight, buddy!”

Sirius let out the breath he’d been holding, swallowed hard, and scoffed at himself. Get a grip, Black.

“Bye!” Harry answered cheerfully.

“Bye!” Teddy chorused.

Remus chuckled and stood up straight again.

“Well, I guess I have to go get ready for our date,” Remus said, then ruffled Teddy’s hair. “And get this one down for a nap.”

“Yeah, me too,” Sirius said.

“Wear something pretty,” Remus said with a wink. He pushed the door open and strode back into the lobby, his legs looking impossibly long in those damned black jeans.

The door clicked shut again, and Harry twisted his head around to look up at Sirius, his green eyes wide.

“What?” Sirius asked. “It’ll be fine.”

Fifteen minutes later, Harry was sitting in his high chair with his Bluey bib Velcroed around his neck while Sirius paced back and forth in the kitchen.

“This is good, isn’t it?” Sirius asked. He looked at Harry, who was trying to stab a soft chunk of sweet potato with a green plastic fork clutched in his chubby fist. He kept missing and hitting his plate instead.

“Ya,” Harry replied, giving up and dropping his fork onto the floor. Instead, Harry grabbed the sweet potato with his fingers and shoved it into his mouth, pressing his whole hand against his face. Sirius picked up the fork, tossed it into the sink, and kept on pacing.

“We’re just going to hang out,” Sirius reasoned. “Very innocent. Very platonic.”

“Shamaba,” Harry mumbled through a mouthful of sweet potato and took a swig of milk from his sippy cup.

“I’m perfectly capable of having an attractive male friend,” Sirius said defensively. “I have many attractive male friends.”

Harry pushed a strawberry into his mouth next, and a drip of pink juice dribbled down his chin and over each neck roll as he chewed. Sirius ran a baby wipe across the sticky mess and kept pacing.  

“And furthermore!” Sirius said, waving the baby wipe in the air. “Remus can’t date either! So the fact that he’s single and attractive is a moot point! He could be the single-est, most attractive person I’ve ever met, and it wouldn’t matter! Which is good, because he is the most attractive person I’ve ever met. So this really is a very fortuitous turn of events, isn’t it Harry?”

Sirius turned back to Harry expectantly.

“No,” Harry replied.

A few hours later, the lift doors slid open and as usual, a sea of gray-haired heads turned around to watch Sirius emerge onto the ground floor, pushing Harry in his pram. He walked into the lobby, which was fussily decorated with oversized chintz chairs, highly polished oak furniture, silk flowers, and lots and lots of doilies.

“Don’t you look smart, Sirius, dear!” Mrs. Smith said approvingly as she shuffled a deck of cards on a small, square table covered in a white lace tablecloth.

“Thank you,” Sirius said, eyeing his reflection in the lift doors. He’d worn a pair of white shorts, white trainers, and a black t-shirt cut close to the V of his torso. The edges of a few tattoos were visible under his collar, sleeves, and the hem of his shorts, just enough to make someone curious about the rest of them. Not that he wanted Remus to be curious.

Sirius looked at his watch. It was 4:59. Maybe Remus would be late. Maybe he wouldn’t come at all.

Or maybe, he would be right on time, looking somehow better than he had that morning. He really was impossibly handsome, with that slow, wicked smile and beautiful body. And those hands...

Shit.

Remus strode into the lobby, pushing Teddy’s pram through the watching crowd and walking right up to Sirius.

“Evening, ladies,” Remus said, looking around at their audience before bending down to pull something out of the pocket at the back of the pram.

He stood up, revealing a beautiful bouquet of delicate pink and white tea roses. He handed them to Sirius and then took his hand, raising it to his lips for a gentle kiss.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he said in a low voice, not taking his eyes off Sirius.

“Hot damn,” Mrs. Prewett breathed.

“Hi,” Sirius squeaked, frozen to the spot while Remus’s warm lips lingered against his skin, sending a little shiver across his shoulders.

“Shall we?” Remus asked, and Sirius nodded. Teddy snatched one of the strawberry teething crackers off of Harry’s pram tray, but Harry, to his credit, did not scream. He was already gumming at a cracker of his own and merely gave Teddy a wary look and continued his own gnawing.

“I’ll put those in water for you, love,” Mrs. Smith said, taking the flowers from Sirius as they turned to leave. She leaned in close and put a gnarled hand on Sirius’s forearm.

“He’s hot!” she whispered into his ear. “That arse! Damn!”

“Mrs. Smith!” Sirius said, shocked.

“I’m old!” she hissed back. “I’m not dead!”

Remus hit the automatic door button then stepped aside, turning to look at Sirius with a little inclination of his head.

“After you,” he said, gesturing to the open door.

“Go get, him, tiger!” Mrs. Smith told Sirius, and sent them on their way, with every set of eyes watching them through the open window as they left. Remus slung an arm around Sirius’s shoulders with one last look at the captivated crowd.

"Night, all," he said, and the room collectively sighed.

Once they’d reached the sidewalk and safely rounded the corner, Remus dropped his arm and burst into laughter.

“That was fun!” he said. “Pretty convincing, huh? They should be off your back for a while. Or at least give up on trying to set you up.”

Yep, it was very convincing, Sirius thought a little breathlessly. He looked sideways at Remus, who was gazing at him with those warm, laughing, honey-brown eyes of his. Very, very convincing.

“You’re funny if you think that will get anyone off my back,” Sirius said. “This is just the beginning. They’re going to want regular updates from me and demand frequent appearances from you. They’ll be knitting hats for Teddy by this time tomorrow. They’ll probably even start inviting you round to Sunday dinner.”

“Sirius, I know you’re saying all this as a warning, but it sounds great. I haven’t had a proper Sunday dinner in years,” Remus said. “And I’ll take all the hats I can get for Teddy. He has this weird thing where he likes to rip them off and chuck them into the middle street right as, like, a bus or a horse is going by, so it’s guaranteed to get driven over or shit on. Once, he tossed one right into the Thames. I watched it float away past Parliament, and he just laughed while it snowed on his bald head.”

Sirius laughed, too, and looked down at Teddy, who smiled up at him with a soggy hunk of strawberry teething cracker clinging to his eyebrow. They kept walking, heading toward a park down the street where Remus said they were having a summer carnival.

“Anyway,” Remus continued, “I’ve been wondering all afternoon…why exactly do you live in a retirement village?”

“It’s not officially a retirement village, but the demographics certainly skew that way,” Sirius laughed again. “I live there because my brother likes to fuck with me.”

“OK, explain,” Remus said.

“Well, I don’t think I told you my last name. It’s Black,” Sirius said, giving Remus a significant look. It took Remus a second to catch on, but when he did his mouth dropped open.

“You mean…”

“Yep,” Sirius said, knowing that Remus was thinking about his father, the rich and ruthless real estate developer and House of Lords bigot-in-chief. “My dear old dad is Orion Black.”

“Holy shit,” Remus said, then looked instantly guilty. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s the right reaction,” Sirius assured him. “For every bad thing you’ve heard about him, there’s 100 more bad things that the family has paid to cover up. Anyhow, about four years ago, I told my parents I didn’t want any part of it anymore and was disinherited. My brother, of course, is the golden child and has had an extensive array of investment properties since he was about 18, including several blocks of flats. I was skint, and he told me he had a vacancy, so I jumped at it. What he didn’t tell me was that every cast member and extra from The Golden Girls lived there, too.”

“Well, who doesn’t love Betty White?” Remus asked with a laughing shrug, which made Sirius laugh, too. Remus seemed like he was game for just about anything life threw at him.

“Oh, I’d totally die for Betty White,” Sirius agreed. “I mean, if she wasn’t already dead. But still." 

“So you’ve lived there four years,” Remus continued. “Has the biddy brigade been trying to marry you off for that long, too?”

“Not really. I kept drastically different hours until about a year ago,” Sirius said, and Remus nodded knowingly. Babies and nightlife don’t mix. “But once I got Harry, they started seeing more of me, and also became very invested in finding me someone.”

“It sounds stifling," Remus mused, "but also kind of sweet."

“Actually,” Sirius said, tilting his head thoughtfully toward Remus. “That’s a very good way to describe it. My friend Pete thinks it’s so annoying, and it is, sometimes. But also, I didn’t really have that growing up. You know, people looking out for me, fussing about whether I was eating enough. All my parents cared about was appearances. These ladies want me to be happy. And they spoil the hell out of Harry. You should’ve seen them at Christmas. I think he got a fiver and a knitted hat from everyone in the building.”

“Well, I guess I have something to look forward to as your fake boyfriend,” Remus said. He nodded to a park where dozens of spinning rides and screaming kids with painted faces and balloons tied to their wrists were tearing across the grass ahead of weary-looking parents who slumped along behind them. “Guess this is the place.”

They walked into the carnival and immediately, Harry pointed excitedly to a little paddock of petting zoo animals.

“Sheep!” he cried, pointing to a goat.

“Close enough, buddy,” Sirius said, steering over to the side of the wire fence to let Harry get an up-close look. A heaping pile of wilted vegetables sat in a cardboard box with a note written in Sharpie: “We love veggies!”

The goat bleated as they approached. Harry sat back in his pram seat, eyeing it cautiously, but Teddy had no such qualms. In an instant, he’d climbed right out of his pram and shimmied down the side like a little squirrel monkey. He crawled across the grass, grabbed a carrot, and stuck it straight through the fence.

“Teddy!” Remus said, noticing that his son’s entire hand was now hovering inside the goat’s mouth. Remus snatched Teddy up off the ground, and the little boy burst into excited giggles as the goat stuck its head over the fence and nibbled at his dangling foot.

“Fucking hell, I never appreciated child leashes until I created this kid,” Remus said, yanking Teddy’s foot away from the goat’s mouth. Remus blew a raspberry into Teddy’s neck, eliciting a cascade of happy squeals. “You can’t stick body parts into a goat’s mouth, dude!”

Harry watched the whole scene carefully; he probably would have raised a skeptical eyebrow if he had the muscle control, Sirius thought. Sirius picked him up out of the pram and squatted on the ground so Harry was perched on his knee. They sat eye to eye with the goat, who bleated hungrily at them for more food.

“What do you think, mate?” Sirius asked Harry. “Want to try feeding it?”

He offered Harry a floppy leaf of Romaine lettuce, but Harry shook his head no and pushed it away.

“Good choice,” Sirius said, dropping a kiss on Harry’s head as the goat looked up and yanked the sock off of Teddy’s foot.

“Hey!” Remus said. “Give that back!”

But the goat simply trotted off into its little wooden shed with Teddy’s sock hanging between its teeth.

“Guess you’re down a sock, Teds,” Remus sighed, looking at Teddy’s drooling little face. “That’s now three items of clothing you’ve lost to farm animals.”

They looked around the carnival, deciding where to head next, when a man’s voice rang out behind them.

“Remus?”

Remus turned around and raised his eyebrows.

“My ex,” he muttered to Sirius, moving his lips as little as possible. A handsome, enormously muscled, red-haired man with very little neck was striding toward them. His biceps and thighs rippled and bulged out of a tight t-shirt and short shorts. A tiny, teacup Yorkie in a baby carrier was strapped to his chest. He looked like a Viking…if Vikings enjoyed tying pink satin bows on the heads of fussy little dogs.

“Hey there, Remus,” the man said in a deep voice that sounded like Thor’s hammer rumbling thunder across the heavens.

“Hey Gid,” Remus said cheerily. “How’s things?”

“Ahh, same old. You’re looking good.”

“Thank you,” Remus replied.

“What’s new?”

“Umm…Teddy can identify Paul Hollywood,” Remus said. “Never been prouder.”

“Nice! Bianca just won gold at the Precious Pooch Invitational in the teacup category. So I know how you feel,” Gid said.

“Yes, the accomplishments of your dog and my human son are exactly the same thing,” Remus said, but if Gid caught onto Remus’s annoyance, he didn’t let on. Instead, he looked Sirius up and down and nodded once in his direction.

“Who’s your friend?”

“This is Sirius Black,” Remus said. “Sirius, this is Gideon Prewett.”

“Oh, Prewett! I live in the same building as Muriel Prewett,” Sirius said, trying to make conversation. “Any chance you’re related?”

“Muriel’s my auntie,” Gid said, then he narrowed his eyes and burst out laughing. “Wait, you live at 59 Coventry Street? That’s a retirement home for old ladies. What the hell’s wrong with you?”

“I’m actually an 89-year-old woman,” Sirius said before he could stop himself. He wondered whether Remus would be annoyed with him, but was pleasantly surprised.

“Yeah,” Remus agreed. “He just looks really good for his age.”

Gid frowned between the two of them for a moment longer. Remus didn’t say anything else, just waited, while Teddy babbled incessantly.

“Well, it was good to see you, Remus,” Gid said finally.

“Yeah, you too, Gid,” Remus said.

“And if you’re ever in the neighborhood again…” Gid said, but Remus shook his head.

“I won’t be.”

Gid just shrugged and walked away. He and Sirius watched him go, and when he was safely out of earshot, Remus sighed dramatically and looked at Teddy, who was twirling one of his father’s curls between his little fingers.

“We don’t miss him, do we Teddy?” Remus said before turning to Sirius. “God, he’s annoying! Every time I talked about Teddy he’d chime in with a story about the dog, like it’s the same thing. I’m sorry, but Teddy will eventually be able to speak in sentences and wipe his own arse. The only thing that creature can do is shake and take nervous shits on the floor.”

Remus adjusted Teddy on his hip and tilted his head to the side, watching Gid’s retreating form as it crossed the park.

“Still,” Remus added. “Good-looking bloke.”

“Is he as terrifying as he looks?” Sirius asked, watching him walk away, too. His thighs looked like they could crush Sirius’s head with a single flex.

“Sort of,” Remus said. “He’s a bossy, temperamental bottom who could kill you with his thumb. But every time he watches The Notebook he sobs like a baby.”

“He didn’t seem fussed about me, at least,” Sirius said. “I know you agreed not to see other people.”

“What?” Remus asked, shaking his head in confusion.

“The divorce?” Sirius reminded him.

“Oh!” Remus laughed. “I’m not divorcing Gid!”

“You’re not?” Sirius asked.

“No!” Remus said, buckling Teddy back into his pram as they readied themselves to walk to the merry-go-round. “You don’t need to worry about him.”

“That’s a relief,” Sirius said.

Remus stood up and slung his hands into the pockets of his shorts.

“It’s my ex-wife you have to worry about.”

Chapter Text

Sirius was momentarily disoriented when his eyes drifted open to see bright morning sunlight filtering through his bedroom window. He blinked slowly and rolled his head to the side. The clock on the nightstand said 7:33.

7:33?

“Oh, fuck!” Sirius said, sitting straight up in bed. “Harry!”

He scrambled off the bed, his long legs tangling in the sheets, as blind panic surged through his body. He hadn’t heard a peep from Harry all night. Sirius tore across the hall, tripping over his own feet and stubbing his toe against the baseboard.

“Fuck me,” he hissed, jumping up and down in pain and crashing into the nursery with his frantic pulse singing in his ears.

The room was completely dark, save for the narrow column of light coming in through the open door, and Sirius rushed over to the crib, gripping the side and struggling to see whether Harry was breathing.

“Harry?” he panted, laying a shaking palm against Harry’s chest for a moment before letting out a relieved huff and dropping his forehead onto the side of the crib with a heavy thwack.

Harry was fine. He was just fucking sleeping.

Sirius shuffled across the unnaturally dark room and slumped into the rocking chair next to the crib, letting his head fall back and shutting his eyes. He put a hand over his still-thudding heart as he registered the sound of softly falling rain, despite the bright sunshine outside, and a realization washed over him.

Harry James Potter had just slept through the night for the first time in 11 months.

Fifteen minutes later, Sirius was enjoying a quiet cup of coffee on the patio with his bare feet propped up onto the wrought iron banister while the baby monitor hummed soft rain sounds on the little side table next to him.

Sirius: Remus Motherfucking Lupin!

Remus: Yes? Should I be afraid?

Sirius: You’re a genius. I owe you another fake date.

Remus: I take it the white noise machine and blackout curtains were a success???

Sirius: Yes! I can’t believe it!

Remus: Tell me all

Sirius: NGL…I was scared shitless when I first woke up. Harry has never *not* woken up at night.

Remus: Ah yes, the first-time-sleeping-through-the-night-induced heart attack. I am familiar.

Sirius: But once I established that he was alive/not kidnapped?? Amazing. He’s still asleep right now! I’m actually *sitting down* with a cup of coffee. And it’s even hot!  

Remus: Fuck yes!!!

Sirius’s fake carnival date with Remus the night before had somehow turned into dinner in the park, then shopping for baby stuff.

“What about this one?” Remus had asked in the shop, holding up a white noise machine and reading from the back of the box. “It says it has a sound machine, nightlight, alarm, smart light—don’t know what that is—and a meditation app, which I’m assuming is for you, not Harry. For the sounds, you can choose from rain, white noise, ocean, a fan, lullabies, and a heartbeat.”

“A heartbeat?” Sirius asked, taking the box from Remus’s hand and reading the back of it himself. “How sinister. Sold.”

He dropped it into his shopping basket, where it landed next to the black-out curtains that Remus also recommended.

“Teddy never slept either until I turned his nursery into a creepy sensory deprivation chamber,” Remus said, looking at the price tag on a red lace bra that Teddy had insisted on carrying around through the store. Remus tried to put it back when they were leaving, but Teddy hugged it to his chest, his eyes welling with tears.

“Only £12,99,” Remus shrugged down at his son. “I guess you can have it. Red’s your color, buddy.”

They left with the white noise machine and blackout curtains for Harry and the lacy red bra for Teddy, plus a few new boxes of strawberry teething crackers.

“Teddy ate all of Harry’s,” Remus said, handing Sirius one of the boxes. “I’m really sorry.”

Now, Sirius was well-rested for the first time in almost a year and didn’t know quite what to do with himself.

Remus: What are you up to today?

Sirius: I thought we’d have an exciting day of staring at clouds and trying to avoid eating grass in the park. What about you?

Remus: There’s a construction site down the street from my flat, and I heard through the grapevine that heavy things will be swinging from a crane today. I plan to take Teddy to watch. Want to join?

Sirius started to type his reply immediately (“Yes!”) but stopped himself. This felt like a dangerously slippery slope. He decided to call Marlene instead.

“What’s wrong?” Marlene demanded when she picked up the phone on the first ring.

“Can’t I just call you?” Sirius asked, sipping his coffee.

“No,” Marlene said. Sirius could hear her chewing. Lucky Charms, no doubt, Marlene’s favorite disgusting breakfast cereal. “Texting only before 8:00 am unless there’s an emergency.”

“Come on,” Sirius huffed. “I need a real conversation about this.”

“Fine,” she said through another mouthful. “Whassa matter?”

“I finally went to story time at the library.”

“Good for you, Pads. Way to bust that cherry.”

“And I met someone.”

“OK. Good.”

“Another dad.”

“Oh, that’s great!”

“And now I’m fake dating him.”

“What?”

Sirius explained the entire absurd scenario as Marlene continued to crunch her Lucky Charms.

“Only you, Sirius,” Marlene said as he finished. “This could only happen to you.”

“You know how the ladies in my building are,” Sirius replied.

“Yeah, I sure fucking do,” Marlene sighed. She was the subject of the Great “Is This Your Girlfriend” Interrogation of 2022.

“And now Remus has invited us to a construction site today, and I don’t know what to say,” Sirius said.

“A construction site?” Marlene asked. “Is this some weird Village People fantasy thing?”

“No!” Sirius said, although now that he considered it, the thought of watching fit construction workers pound things with jackhammers was very appealing. “Kids like construction vehicles. Apparently there’s going to be a crane.”

“OK, so aside from the ridiculous fact that you’re fake dating someone,” Marlene said, “what’s there to talk about? This Remus sounds perfectly lovely.”

“He is!” Sirius said. “That’s the problem.”

“Ahh,” Marlene said with a smug knowingness. “So he’s fit.”

“He’s more than fit. He’s bloody gorgeous,” Sirius whined. “Like, the most beautiful fucking person I’ve ever seen in real life. I’d let him bend me over a corpse.”

“Are you sure you’re not just being dramatic because you’ve had an 11-month dry spell and he accidentally touched your knob?”

Sirius considered this. Maybe he was being dramatic. Maybe Remus was just an average bloke with big hands and a crazy baby. He and Marlene talked for a minute more before Sirius hung up and typed his reply.

Sirius: We’d love to join you! Name the time and place.

Remus: Great! You haven’t lived until you’ve witnessed the making of urban sprawl. Plus…sweaty construction workers!

An hour later, Sirius had managed to convince himself that Marlene was right. Remus was not only average, but actually quite unattractive, now that he thought about it. His elbows were extremely knobby, if Sirius was remembering correctly, and his eyes were vacant and indifferent, like a fish. A dead fish. He wasn’t very funny, either. In fact, Remus Lupin was completely bland. Boring. A wet napkin. Barely a step above Randall Bagshot.

“Therefore, I’ve got nothing to worry about,” Sirius told Harry as he cut up pieces of a whole grain waffle and spooned yogurt into a cup for Harry’s breakfast. Sirius dropped the plastic plate and bowl onto Harry’s highchair tray and sat down in front of him. “You should be thanking me for this sacrifice, Harry. You get to see a crane, while I’ll be forced to spend time with an extremely unpleasant man.”

“Woof,” Harry replied.

“Exactly,” Sirius said.

Sirius was feeling confident in himself and in Remus Lupin’s aggressive unattractiveness when he and Harry strolled up to the construction site a couple hours later. The late morning sun was bright and hot, and Sirius and Harry wore matching Supertramp t-shirts and aviator sunglasses.

Harry looked around, his forehead furrowing at the loud noises, and he sucked harder on his pacifier. Engines sputtered and growled, huge tires crunched over gravel, and steam shovels dug up the earth. Sirius pulled Harry out of the baby carrier and sat down on a bench in a small park across the street. Seconds later, Harry was nearly diving off Sirius’s lap, pointing happily down the sidewalk.

“Kitty!” Harry cried.

Sirius turned to where Harry was pointing and laughed.

“I don’t think that’s a kitty, mate! That’s your pal, Teddy,” Sirius said, leaning down to give Harry a kiss on the cheek.

Sirius could see the confusion, though.

Teddy Lupin was wearing a short-sleeved, hooded green romper with blue dinosaur spikes that started at the top of his head and ran all the way down his back to the tip of a long, stuffed tail. A row of pointy white teeth protruded over his forehead across the front of the hood.

“Hi!” Teddy shrieked, gripping Remus’s t-shirt in one chubby fist and waving the lacy red bra over his head like the flag of a conquering army in the other.

Teddy and his tail bounced on his father’s hip with every step while he screamed and waved the bra excitedly at everything his wide eyes landed on—Harry, the roaring steam shovel, the cars whizzing by, the birds gliding overhead—as though life was just a smorgasbord of fun. Teddy’s joy was contagious, and Sirius laughed as his gaze drifted upward from Teddy’s face.

Sirius and Remus were both wearing sunglasses, but Sirius still felt the moment they locked eyes. Remus must have felt it, too, because he gave Sirius that slow, wicked grin of his. Everything about him seemed to glow golden in the sunlight—his leanly muscled limbs, his short curls, his beautifully tanned skin—and Sirius felt his stomach twist and flip as he strode toward them. Remus’s huge hand gripped the underside of Teddy’s entire thigh, holding him fast and sure to his side, and Sirius realized that Marlene was very, very wrong. Sirius was not overreacting. Remus was, without a doubt, the most gorgeous man he’d ever seen.

“Look at you, looking all well-rested,” Remus said as they approached. He sat down next to Sirius and dropped Teddy’s diaper back between his feet on the sidewalk. He kept one strong arm locked around Teddy’s middle while he leaned forward to retrieve a sippy cup of water. As he did, the back of his white t-shirt drifted upward, revealing a narrow strip of golden skin.

Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look, Sirius implored himself.  

He looked. It was lovely skin. The loveliest. Kissable, lickable, a perfect canvas for raking fingernails and scraping teeth.

God, he was fucked.

Remus sat up and looked around at Sirius again.

“How’d your fan club treat you when you got home last night?” Remus asked.

“Most of them had mercifully gone to bed,” Sirius said. “But there was a group of die-hards waiting up for me and playing a particularly cutthroat game of whist. They were sharing a bottle of sherry and demanded all the sordid details.”

“You don’t strike me as the type to kiss and tell, Sirius,” Remus laughed.

“You’ll be happy to know that I am, indeed, a very discreet fake boyfriend,” Sirius agreed. “I told them you were a perfect gentleman who defended my honor when that goat tried to take a bite out of my crotch.”

“As much as I understood where the goat was coming from, I couldn’t let him molest you like that,” Remus said, and Sirius had to bite back a grin. Was Remus flirting? Really flirting? Or just messing about? “Especially after he stole Teddy’s other sock, too.”

“Well, unfortunately, Remus, that act of chivalry wasn’t enough for the ladies in my building. They’re a bit cross with you at the moment,” Sirius said, and Remus’s face broke into an expression of genuine surprise and concern.

“Wait, really?” Remus asked. “But I brought flowers!”

“You didn’t walk me home,” Sirius said, as though this should have been obvious, and Remus sighed knowingly.

“Shit,” Remus said, shaking his head, as though he was deeply disappointed in himself. “And here I was, thinking I was doing so well.”

“They’re a very tough crowd.”

“Well, I’ll just have to correct my error today,” Remus said, sitting back on the bench and wiping a trickle of drool that had rolled down Teddy’s chin.

Sirius laughed and shook his head.

“You really don’t have to.”

“Oh, yes I do!” Remus said. “I am an excellent fake boyfriend, and I’ll not have these women besmirching my name!”

“Cray!” Teddy cried, waving the bra again and pointing with both hands to the promised crane, which was slowly hoisting an enormous steel beam into the air by a hook that dangled from a thick metal chain. The beam swung back and forth as it rose higher, and Teddy screamed, waving his arms over his head and bouncing on Remus’s knee.

Sirius looked down at Harry, who watched, not the crane, but Teddy. Harry laughed until he hiccupped at every delighted shriek that tore from Teddy’s mouth. Remus looked at his watch, reached into the diaper bag, and pulled out a little plastic bowl of sliced bananas. Teddy shrieked again and dove for the bowl, barely able to wait the two seconds it took Remus to remove the lid before plunging his little hand inside and smashing a chunk of banana against his mouth. Harry eyed the bananas, clearly wanting some, too, but unwilling to fight his way into the bowl.

“Since we’re committed to the fake boyfriend bit,” Sirius asked Remus cautiously, pulling out a snack for Harry, too. “How much do I really need to be worried about your ex-wife?”

Sirius had been wondering about Remus’s comment since the night before, trying to imagine what kind of woman Remus would be attracted to, given his hulking, dog-obsessed ex-boyfriend. But Remus only tipped his head back and laughed.

“You don’t have to worry about her at all,” Remus said. “She’d probably find the whole thing funny. As long as we’re not really dating, of course.”

“So you two are on good terms, then?”

“Yeah, for the most part. Considering.”

“Considering?”

“Well, we actually only dated for a few weeks. I barely even remembered her last name. Then I heard from her again a couple months after we broke up,” Remus said. “And surprise! Pregnant!”

“Did you ever wonder if it wasn’t…” Sirius started, shifting slightly at the uncomfortable inquiry, and shook his head, stopping himself. It was none of his business. “Sorry, never mind.”

“It’s alright, you can ask,” Remus said with a knowing laugh. “It’s a valid question. But I knew Teddy was mine. She doesn’t typically sleep with men, and I don’t usually sleep with women, so…magical odds, I guess.”    

“But why did you marry her?” Sirius asked, the question tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop it. Sirius had spent the majority of his late teens and early 20s actively trying to dodge the marriage obligation that came with being the Black family heir.

“Because she asked,” Remus said simply. “And I’m a little old-fashioned, I guess. Who knew? I thought we could try to make a proper family. I do like her. I thought maybe I could grow to love her if she was the mother of my child.”

“You didn’t, then?” Sirius asked quietly.

“Nope,” Remus answered. “We separated before Teddy was even born. We were both doing fine, seeing other people, until Teddy was about three months old. Then, her therapist told her that we shouldn’t see anyone else until we were officially divorced to ‘maintain emotional cleanliness.’”

“And you just went along with it?”

Teddy looked up at Remus just then, turning his chubby cheeks toward him, his wide eyes trusting and loving. He reached a banana-smeared hand up toward his father’s face, a gesture of pure love, and Remus grasped his sticky little fingers and kissed them. Remus was quiet for a few moments while he gazed down at his son, then looked at Sirius again, weighing his words.

“I have sole custody, and she still cancels her visits half the time,” Remus said in a quiet voice, as though afraid Teddy would hear. “But I really do think she’s trying her best, and Teddy adores her. I want her to stick around. And if that means keeping her happy in ways that don’t really matter in the long run, I’ll do it. I’m sure we’ll sign the divorce papers soon. I can live without a shag until then.”

Sirius nodded and gave him a small smile.

“You’re a good guy, Remus,” Sirius said, but Remus only shrugged.

“What about you?” Remus asked, seemingly happy to change the subject. “Any past relationships I should know about as your fake boyfriend?”

“Not a one,” Sirius replied, shaking his head.

“Really?” Remus said. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Oh, and why’s that?”

But Remus only gave Sirius a withering look that was half annoyed, half amused.

“Sirius. Are you kidding? Don’t act like you don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?”

Remus rolled his eyes and sighed heavily.

“Surely you know how attractive you are,” Remus said, as though he was stating a fact as simple and incontrovertible as the sky being blue and water being wet.

“I didn’t say I was a virgin, Remus,” Sirius smirked at him, and Sirius could have sworn that Remus’s cheeks pinked a little. “I just haven’t been interested in a long-term relationship. I’ve had wild oats to sow. My family tried to marry me off for years before I escaped. I come from a long line of miserable arranged marriages.”

“That’s been a running theme for you, hasn’t it?” Remus asked, tilting his head thoughtfully toward Sirius.

“What?” Sirius asked, not sure what Remus was talking about.

“People trying to marry you off,” Remus said. “First your family, now your neighbors.”

Sirius hadn’t considered this before, but he realized that Remus was right.

“Marriage just feels like such a trap you, know?” Sirius said. “The ultimate definition of other people’s expectations.”

“Yeah. I’m well aware,” Remus said with a chagrined laugh. It wasn’t bitter, but it was close.

“Exactly! You know more than anyone!” Sirius said. “I’d rather have fun. Marriage just feels like something you have to do to make other people happy.”

“Maybe,” Remus nodded. “I’m still holding out hope, though.”

“For what?”

This time there was no doubt about it. Remus’s cheeks flushed a pretty shade of salmon pink under his freckles. He spoke quietly and didn’t quite meet Sirius’s eye when he answered.

“I’m hoping that actually falling in love will make it feel different.”

Sirius watched Remus with his heart beating somewhere in his throat. Remus shifted Teddy on his lap, fussing with Teddy’s sock for an unnecessarily long time before looking at Sirius again.

“Maybe someday, right?” Remus said. His eyes were earnest and beautiful; dark burnt-honey brown, ringed and flecked with gold, like bits of sunlight glinting through. Nothing like a dead fish at all. Damn him.

“Definitely,” Sirius agreed, unable to look away from those eyes. Sirius’s voice was barely a hoarse whisper, and Remus smiled at him.

“Thanks for saying it even if you don’t mean it,” Remus said. “You already know how to humor your fake boyfriend.”

Sirius opened his mouth to protest—to say he did believe it, or that he wanted to believe it, at the very least—when Teddy and Harry shrieked in unison. A huge seagull had swooped down and plucked Teddy’s entire banana bowl out of his hand.

“Hey!” Remus cried. “That’s organic corn-derived plastic! Those bowls are expensive!”

He thrust Teddy onto Sirius’s lap next to Harry and took off after the bird, which seemed to be having trouble gaining air with the heavy bowl dangling awkwardly from its beak. Remus ran pell-mell down the street, helicoptering his arms and jumping and shouting in a barrage of flapping feathers, until the traumatized bird gave up and dropped the bowl at his feet.

Remus lifted the bowl into the air and shook it at the bird’s tail as it flew away.

“Fuck you, trying to steal from my kid!” he yelled, then spun around laughing and grimacing, holding the bowl out in front if him between two fingers and stepping between the chunks of banana that now littered the ground. “Fuck! I hate birds! One got into my car at a Starbucks drive-through and another shit on my eyelid on the beach in Algarve. They’ve got it out for me!”

Sirius, meanwhile, remained trapped on the bench underneath two wailing babies, alternating between laughing at Remus and trying to calm Harry and Teddy. Teddy was crying because of his stolen bananas, and Harry was crying because Teddy was crying.   

Remus tied up the bowl in a plastic Tesco bag, drenched his hands in sanitizer, and pulled Teddy from Sirius’s lap.

“Come here, love. Daddy’s sorry about that, Teddy Bear,” Remus soothed, hugging Teddy close and rubbing his back. Teddy continued to cry, and Remus bounced him gently, walking back and forth across the sidewalk, until finally, he started to softly sing.

Holl amrantau'r sêr ddywedant
Ar hyd y nos
"Dyma'r ffordd i fro gogoniant"
Ar hyd y nos

Immediately, Teddy stopped crying. He sniffed once more and rested his head against his father’s shoulder, winding his sticky little fingers into Remus’s hair. Harry stopped crying, too, and listened to the song. So did Sirius. The crane heaved heavy steel bars, and jackhammers smashed against the ground, yet Teddy, Harry, and Sirius sat transfixed, breathing in the soft music and letting it wash over them in the bright summer sunshine. It was a sweet, lilting melody, and called to mind gentle hands and tender bedtime lullabies, something Sirius had never known himself, but had seen in movies and read about in books.

Remus finished the verse, and Sirius nearly had to shake his head to come out of the trance.

“That was so pretty,” Sirius said. "What was it?"

“A Welsh lullaby called Ar hyd y nos,” Remus replied. “It means ‘all through the night.’ My mum used to sing it to me, and now I sing it to Teddy.”

Remus slowly rubbed one wide hand across Teddy’s back. Teddy’s eyes drooped closed, and he rushed to open them again, not wanting to miss any of the construction site action. Remus kissed Teddy on his chubby cheek and looked at his watch.

“What do you think about a picnic lunch?” Remus asked Sirius. “I’m guessing these two will snooze on a blanket if we can find a shady spot in the park.”

And that’s just what they did. The afternoon was wonderful. Easy. Fun.

It was early evening when they finally arrived back at Sirius’s flat. The babies were hot and sleepy in their carriers, ready for cool baths and their dark nurseries. As expected, Sirius’s neighbors watched them eagerly through the windows as they approached.

“Looks like we have an audience again,” Remus said, giving Mrs. Smith a little wave.

Sirius looked over his shoulder at all of the watching eyes. Mrs. Smith bit her lower lip coyly and waved back to Remus, then winked at Sirius while pretending to turn back to her card game.

“You’ve now walked me home like a true gentleman,” Sirius said. “I don’t think they’ll have any complaints.”

“I hope not,” Remus said. “I pride myself on my fake boyfriend abilities.”

“You’re definitely doing fine by me,” Sirius laughed.

Remus looked into the lobby window once more, then gently took Sirius’s hand. He leaned forward, and placed a single, delicate kiss on Sirius’s cheek. Sirius’s eyes slipped shut despite himself at the touch of Remus’s lips. They were soft and warm, and they lingered against his skin for a few seconds before pulling away.

Sirius held his breath as Remus stood up straight and realized with a flush that his eyes were still closed. When he opened them again, Remus was watching him with the hint of a smile across those perfect lips.

“Had to make it extra convincing,” Remus whispered.

“Good night ladies,” Remus called through the open window, then turned back to Sirius. He ran the side of his thumb across the back of Sirius’s hand once before letting it go.

“Goodnight, Sirius.”

“Goodnight,” Sirius replied hoarsely, unable to move, barely even able to breathe, as Remus turned to leave.

Harry’s little sunglasses slipped down his sweaty nose as he looked up at Sirius, revealing wide green eyes that blinked up at him sleepily.

“I know, mate,” Sirius said weakly, watching Remus walk away and brushing his fingertips along his cheek where he could still feel the ghost of Remus’s lips. “I’m so bloody screwed.”

Chapter Text

It was hot.

Harry and Sirius were lying nearly naked—Harry in only a diaper and Sirius in his boxer shorts—on Sirius’s bed with the shades drawn and an enormous fan pointed at them. The fan was trying its very best, but it was still just recycling the same stiflingly hot air around the sweltering bedroom.

Sirius had draped a damp cloth across Harry’s chest to try to cool him down, but within seconds, it had ended up in his mouth, and now it was on the floor, flung away in a fit of heat-induced annoyance.

“Ughhhhh!” Sirius groaned, throwing his arms over his head, and Harry mimicked him, bouncing his little hands against the bed.

They were melting. Slowly, tragically melting. Soon—so soon—Sirius and his beloved Harry would be nothing more than two human puddles sinking into the mattress, leaving only a diaper and boxers behind. Sirius was just wondering whether his tattoos would melt, too, losing shape until they became nothing more than a mysterious ink blotch glistening darkly across the bed, when his phone buzzed on the nightstand.

He reached a limp arm sideways, and it landed with a thud. He moved in slow motion, dragging the phone toward him, raising it over his face, and opening the text message.

Remus: We’re on fire. Teddy is a tiny piece of burning coal. I think I see smoke coming out of his ears. Heading to my auntie’s beach cottage. Want to co

Apparently, Remus couldn’t muster the energy to type the final letters into his text. Sirius couldn’t blame him. It was hotter than Satan’s arse crack. He let the phone drop out of his hand and onto the sweat-soaked pillow, his eyes sliding shut. His skull had become a steamer basket that was slowly cooking his brain. As his mind swirled, he allowed the last several days to wash over him like the licking flames of a fever dream.

He and Remus had gone on seven more play dates over the past two weeks. There was an aquarium (where Teddy had loved a sea star a little too aggressively in the touch tank); an art class (where Teddy fingerpainted his pram wheels purple); and a puppet theatre (where Teddy somehow wound up onstage). There were also lunches and snacks and dinners.

“Are you sure you’re not falling for him for real?” Marlene had asked over fish and chips one night.

But Sirius just shook his head.

“Nope,” he replied assuredly, dunking a bite of fish into his tartar sauce. “I’m absolutely not.”

“Come on, Sirius,” Marlene said, shaking her head, as though annoyed with him. “You two have spent more time together in the first two weeks than Dorcas and I did, and she moved into my flat after a month.”

“Look, even if I was falling for him, which I’m not, it wouldn’t matter. You know he can’t date.”

“He can’t date now,” Marlene corrected. “He won’t be in this pre-divorce limbo forever.”

“And furthermore,” Sirius pressed on, ignoring her. “I saw that ex of his. I am absolutely not his type.”

“I hate to tell you, Sirius,” Marlene said, plucking a chip from Sirius’s basket after she’d finished all of her own. “You’re everyone’s type.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, but there was a part of him that knew what she meant. People had always noticed and admired his looks, for as long as he could remember. He, like all the Blacks, was conventionally beautiful: Six feet tall, athletic, black hair, blue-grey eyes, full lips, and the sharply cut bone structure of a classical sculpture. Remus himself had said as much only days before.  

But Sirius also knew that, looks aside, he was far from everyone’s type. People thought they wanted him until they got him. He might be pretty on the outside, but on the inside, he was always too much. Too many constantly swirling thoughts, too much of his family’s lingering darkness, too much dangerous energy pumping through his blood.

He’d tattooed his body all over for a reason. His beauty was the one thing about him that his mother didn’t criticize, and she treated him like a prized purebred in her efforts to marry him off. So the harder she tried, the more he inked. Yes, he liked the art, but he also wanted to deface the thing that his family valued most highly about him. He wanted to carve his inner rawness onto his skin like a warning, like the truth; he wanted to make the outside of his body match the inside.

Losing James and getting Harry changed everything, of course. Having Harry in his care calmed the tempest that had always raged around his bones, as though he finally had something to channel all of his frenetic energy into. To Sirius’s surprise and relief, being Harry’s father made him feel calm and focused for the first time in his life. He’d poured himself into Harry, and promising his therapist that he wouldn’t date was the easiest thing in the world.

Until now.

That’s why he had come up with a failsafe strategy to avoid admiring Remus in any way while they were together: Reciting Beowulf in his mind. A particularly sadistic Sixth Form Classics professor had forced Sirius’s class to memorize as much of it as they could for extra points.

“When will we ever need this in the real world?” the younger Sirius had belligerently asked his professor.

“Right now, you little shit,” the older Sirius answered his petulant self a decade later.

And so, whenever Remus did anything remotely alluring—whenever he ran his long fingers through his hair, mussing up his golden curls; whenever he made a ridiculously charming joke and gave Sirius that sexy grin; whenever he sang beautiful lullabies to his adorable baby in fucking Welsh for fuck’s sake—Sirius would redirect his mind to the mighty Beowulf and his clashes with the wicked Grendel. Sirius’s jaw would slacken, his eyes would go unfocused and…

Oft Scyld the Scefing from squadroned foes, from many a tribe, the mead-bench tore, awing the earls.

It worked perfectly.

Well, there was that one slip-up when Remus crouched down to tie Teddy’s shoelaces. That was painfully cute. And there was also the time when Remus had gently placed a sea star into a nervous Harry’s outstretched hand along with the words, “Wow! Aren’t you brave, buddy?”

And then, of course, there was that dreadful day when Remus licked an ice cream cone. Sirius watched through a heat-filled haze as his clever tongue lapped up the sweet cream and drew it into his perfect pink mouth. Sirius cast around desperately in his mind for a verse.

‘Tis plain that for prowess, not plunged into exile, for high-hearted valor…

“What kind do you want?” Remus asked, turning toward Sirius at the ice cream counter. A small, melting drip rolled down the side of the cone onto Remus’s fingers, and his tongue flicked out to capture it. Sirius felt his brain leaking out of his ears.

“Hrothgar ye seek!” Sirius replied.

“What?” Remus asked.

“What?” Sirius repeated, his eyes wide.

“I was just asking what kind of ice cream you wanted.”

“Ahh,” Sirius said, nodding dumbly.

“Are you alright?” Remus frowned.

Sirius was about to provide a calm and normal answer when Remus went and laid one of those goddamned hands against Sirius’s arm. They were warm and gentle, yet powerful, and Sirius felt goosebumps ripple up his neck.  

“You look a little pale,” Remus said.

Sirius peeked down cautiously at where they were touching. Fuck, those fingers looked obscenely good curving around his wrist. But they could definitely squeeze much tighter, Sirius could tell. They were certainly big and strong enough to hold both wrists at once in just one hand. And they could absolutely, without a doubt, press Sirius’s arms straight over his head and hold him down, pinning him hard against the mattress while…

“Sirius?”

“Cherry,” Sirius choked out.

So, OK, yes, he’d slipped up a few times. But as long as he kept that wretched poem running through his mind all day, he’d be fine! Sirius had no qualms—not one! He was positively qualm-less—about spending yet another day with Remus. He’d just have to be extra vigilant. He could not, would not, feel anything beyond friendship for him.

Sirius: You’re our savior! We’d love to come along. We’re positively melting. What’s the address?

Three little bubbles appeared on Sirius’s phone screen immediately, then disappeared just as fast. Sirius stared at his phone, waiting for Remus’s reply. The bubbles started, then stopped, then started again. They lasted for an oddly long time before Remus finally answered.

Remus: I could pick you and Harry up? If you want?

Remus: I have an extra car seat since my parents are in Majorca

Sirius stared down at his phone. It was tempting. Sirius rarely drove. He hadn’t even owned a car before getting Harry, instead relying on his motorbike and public transportation. The car he owned now had belonged to Lily and James, and he hated driving it.

But saying yes to Remus presented a different problem: Being in a car with him, sitting next to him, talking to him without the distracting safety barrier of one of their babies being attached to them. He had a feeling that Beowulf would only take him so far in such a situation.

Aside from that first day when Remus had arrived at Sirius’s flat with flowers, they’d never traveled anywhere together on their playdates. They always met at their destination. Sirius had even insisted that Remus not walk him home anymore. He couldn’t deal with any additional cheek kisses. The memory of Remus’s soft lips on his skin already crept into his mind with every desperate shower wank. Sirius needed to keep his distance.

The phone buzzed in Sirius’s hand again.

Remus: Of course, we don’t have to pick you up. I’m sure you probably want your own car. I’ll give you the exact address so you can put it in the satnav.

Sirius looked down at Harry, who’d fallen asleep, then over at the clock. Seven minutes had passed since Remus had asked whether Sirius wanted to drive together. Had he really been lost in thought for that long? This was silly. Sirius was a grown man. He could be in a car with an attractive person and not want to cry, pitch himself off a bridge, or throw himself into the man’s lap.

Sirius: Sorry, got distracted. Picking us up sounds great.

Remus: Wonderful! In an hour OK?

Sirius: Perfect!

An hour later, Sirius arrived in his building’s lobby with Harry on his hip and a diaper bag packed with snacks, sunscreen, swim diapers, and the rest of their usual five days’ worth of supplies. Remus told him not to worry about bringing towels, toys, chairs, or anything else; his auntie had everything.

Remus: She won’t be there, don’t worry! She’s away for a few weeks, visiting my cousin in California.

Sirius: Why would I worry?

Remus: Well, I thought you might have had your fill of pushy older women.

“Heading out with that handsome young man of yours again?” Mrs. Smith asked as Sirius stepped off the lift. The lobby was even more crowded than usual; it was the only place in the whole building with air conditioning. Every single table, chair, couch, and loveseat was occupied, and as always, every eye was on him and Harry.

“I am,” Sirius said. “We’re heading to the seaside. He’ll be picking us up any …”

Sirius stopped midsentence as a boxy, mid-2000s era white minivan with a single, dark green door slowly pulled up to the curb. It had a faded, “Honk if You Love Beanie Babies” bumper sticker on the back windshield. The driver’s window rolled down, and Remus waved at Sirius with a smile that nearly knocked the air out of his lungs. Fuck, he was handsome. When would it stop catching him off guard?

“He drives that box of junk?” Mrs. Prewett snorted. “My nephew drives a McLaren.”

“Your nephew also has a very questionable relationship with that rat dog of his,” Mrs. Smith snapped. “Obviously Remus doesn’t feel the need to compensate for anything.”

Then she gave Sirius a knowing, sideways look and muttered, “I’ve seen his hands.”

Sirius’s face flushed.

“Goodbye, everyone!” he said, and hurried out the door.

The heat outside hit him like a solid wall, humid, stifling, and rippling up from the scorching pavements. Sirius yanked the handle of the van’s heavy, sliding back door to see Teddy, bright-eyed in his car seat, clutching his red bra in one hand and a pink plastic sand shovel in the other. He wore a long-sleeved blue swim shirt, shark-patterned swim trunks, and a tiny pair of green Crocs.

“Ha!” Teddy cried upon spotting them. Sirius guessed this was his attempt at saying “Harry” because Harry responded with an excited shriek of his own. Harry kicked his feet and clapped his hands as Sirius strapped him into the car seat, and didn’t even flinch when Teddy dropped the shovel onto the floor and grabbed a fistful of Harry’s black hair in exuberant greeting.

“Hands to yourself, buddy,” Remus said, reaching back and gently uncurling Teddy’s fingers from Harry’s scalp. Sirius kissed Harry on the forehead, tightened the seatbelt one more time, and slid the van door shut.

“Nice car,” Sirius said, sliding into the passenger seat next to Remus.

“Isn’t it such a piece of shit?” Remus laughed. “I love it. I almost never drive, and I hated spending money on a car, but you do kinda need one with a kid.”

“What’s with the green door?”

“It had been in a fender bender right before I bought it. But the damage was only on the door, so rather than fix it, I just got a replacement at a junkyard. I don’t really care that it doesn’t match,” Remus shrugged, pulling into traffic. “It’s reliable as hell, and look how big the trunk is! I could have someone living back there and wouldn’t know it for weeks.”

Sirius frowned into the backseat, just in case, and Remus laughed again. His laugh came so easily. It was wonderful. It reminded Sirius of James.

“Don’t worry, I already knifed the guy who was living back there last time,” Remus said. “Pretty sure word has spread through the neighborhood that my van is now off-limits.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Sirius replied. “So where’s your auntie’s cottage?”

“It’s about 45 minutes away in Hogsmeade,” Remus said. “It was actually my grandparent’s house, and they left it to my mum and her sisters after they died. Only my auntie lives there full-time now, but we all kind of pop in whenever we feel like it. I think at least 10 people have a key.”

“That’s really nice,” Sirius said, feeling a little yanking pang of heartache in his chest. “To have a close family like that.”

Sirius sighed to himself. There he goes, thinking about James again. Remus must have heard the longing in his voice because he tilted his head gently toward Sirius in that sweet, thoughtful way of his and gave him a soft smile.

“Yeah, it is really nice,” Remus said. “Are you…are you close with any of your family?”

“A few of them,” Sirius said, trying to push through the James-sized hole in his heart. James had been Sirius’s real family, closer than any blood relative could ever be. “Mostly fellow black sheep. I’m really close with my Uncle Alphard. I actually lived with him most summers while I was at secondary school. I get along with a few cousins, too. And my brother and I tolerate each other.”

“I hear siblings are like that,” Remus laughed.

“You’re an only child, then?” Sirius asked, and Remus nodded.

“Yep. I’m pretty sure that’s why I’m so close with my mum and her sisters,” Remus said. “Well…that and all their weird rituals.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re all old hippie witches,” Remus said. “I spent half my childhood calling spirits under the full moon and the other half trying to hide my mum’s coven from my friends. Not easy to do when your best mate gets dumped and your mum offers him a spot of tea and a spell to soothe his heartbreak.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. She read all my friends’ tarot cards and auras and star charts. I found out about a year into uni that all they emailed her regularly about their relationship problems, and she’d give them advice and little spells to help them through it.”

“Well, I think your mum sounds amazing,” Sirius laughed.

“Oh, she is. I know that now,” Remus agreed. “She’s absolutely incredible. And my aunties, too. My cousins and I were absolutely feral children. We had the run of the beach, the woods, we never had shoes on, we were always covered in sand or dirt or mud. Our mums would just hose us down and encourage us to keep looking for magic. And my mum is definitely why I love maths.”

Sirius gave him a puzzled look.

“Why?”

“Because of all the beautiful mathematical patterns that show up all throughout nature,” Remus said, and Sirius could clearly hear Remus’s earnest childhood excitement ringing through his adult voice.  “They’re everywhere; in pinecones, flower petals, shells, tree branches, spiral galaxies, bolts of lightning.”

“Oh, like the golden ratio?” Sirius asked, casting his memory back to reading The DaVinci Code. Remus leaned his head back and forth noncommittally.

“Sort of. Sometimes,” Remus allowed. “It’s actually a bit of a myth that the exact proportions of the golden ratio show up everywhere. But they do show up sometimes, and so do countless other beautiful patterns and numerical sequences, all throughout the natural world, hidden in plain sight. Numbers are both reliable and mysterious, just like nature itself. And there’s always some new mystery to unravel. It’s spectacular. People think there’s no way that mathematicians or scientists could ever believe in the supernatural or the divine. But if you look hard enough and deep enough, magic always just shows up. It smacks you in the face. It’s everywhere. You just have to be willing to see it.”

Sirius really should have been reciting Beowulf right then, because he was positively enchanted. He thought he could listen to Remus talk about numbers and the divine mysteries of nature for hours, admiring the way the corners of his mouth turned up into a wry smile as he spoke, and how his eyes glittered with pure, sweet enthusiasm.

Remus must have noticed Sirius watching him because he laughed a little at himself.

“Sorry,” Remus muttered. “I’m rambling.”

“No, I love it,” Sirius replied before he could stop himself. “I mean…it was beautifully put.”

Oh, fuckity, would he ever be able to stop saying shit like that? He chanced another sideways look at Remus and once again watched that adorable blush creep across his cheeks. He must have been more embarrassed than Sirius realized for rambling on about maths. Sirius decided to save him and change the subject.

“So, what kinds of trouble did you and your cousins get up to at the seaside?” he asked.

They spent the next half hour happily recounting their favorite childhood memories. Remus and his cousins truly did sound feral. His entire family spent each summer at the cottage, sharing bedrooms and sprawling on couches and mattresses on the floor. All the kids would spend entire weeks camping rough in the woods and on the beach, starting fires, building forts, drinking from streams, splashing through tidepools, digging for clams and cooking them in coal pits, right in the sand. It was clear where Teddy got his wild, joyful freedom.  

And it didn’t take long for Sirius’s own heart to open up, too. He told Remus about all the pranks and mischief that he, James, and Pete got up to at school; the fireworks they set off from the roof of the school chapel; the old WWII secret passageways they discovered under the school and all the subsequent underground parties they threw there; the head-to-toe poison ivy that he and James got after falling out the window of the school greenhouses trying to spy on Lily and her friends.

“You know you’re truly best mates with someone when they’ll apply hydrocortisone cream to all your private bits you can’t reach,” Sirius said, and Remus wiped a tear from his eye from laughing. Sirius was laughing, too. It felt so nice to be thinking about James and all their long years of happy memories, rather than one, single, terrible memory.

Soon, they were pulling up the gravel driveway of a lovely, whitewashed cottage perched on a dune overlooking the ocean on one side and ringed with thick forest on the other. It had a wild, untamed kind of beauty, with homemade shell windchimes tinkling from the porch roof and tangles of wild flowers and swaying beach grass growing up around the uneven, cobbled path.

Although it was still very hot, the air was far cooler and cleaner than it had been in the city. The salty breeze felt good on Sirius’s sweaty skin as he pulled Harry from the car seat. In the distance, he could see dozens of holidaymakers scattered across the beach and hear them jumping and laughing in the waves. He realized that he hadn’t properly been to the beach in years; drinking at a grubby club in Brighton didn’t count. And he had never taken Harry, which meant this was his very first beach visit. Sirius typed a reminder into his phone to write the date in Harry’s baby book when they got home.

“It’s beautiful,” Sirius said, as they stepped into the bright and airy cottage. It smelled like salt and sea, sweetgrass and dried flowers. Each room seemed soft and love-worn. It was all whitewashed wood, watery pastels, overstuffed sofas draped with faded quilts, gauzy white curtains fluttering in the sea breeze, chipped tea cups, and copper pots. Herb bundles tied with grosgrain ribbon and twine hung from cabinets and ceiling beams; sea-smooth stones and clear glass jars filled with cockle and periwinkle shells lined the shelves; and a fine, probably ever-present layer of sand covered the uneven wooden floors. It felt wonderfully comforting and familiar.

Remus made quick work of getting their beach supplies ready, packing lunches, and piling everything into a large wagon with oversized wheels for rolling across sand, and soon, they were making their way down the creaking wooden boardwalk to the beach.

“You’re a professional,” Sirius said, looking at the smartly packed wagon. Sirius could picture himself struggling down the beach with his arms full of unwieldy bags and chairs, not to mention a squirming Harry, if he’d been alone. But then again, it would never have occurred to him to go to the beach at all. The only time Sirius had ever gone to the seaside was with James and his parents. Sirius’s own parents wouldn’t have tolerated sandy feet or wet bottoms in their perfect, frigid mansion.

“Yep,” Remus agreed. “A lifetime of beach days finally pays off for life with a baby.”

They claimed a spot on the warm, soft sand, and Sirius watched Remus pitch a wide, open-sided baby tent, set up a red-and-white striped umbrella, and unfold chairs in five minutes flat. They smeared thick, grayish zinc sunscreen all over Harry and Teddy and tied floppy sunhats under their chins before plopping them down in the sand with plastic shovels. Remus ran down to the shore and filled a huge plastic bucket with seawater for them to play with, too.

“Here you go, loves,” he said, dipping a sandy hand into the bucket to rinse it off and splashing each of their necks a little, too. The babies giggled, and Sirius watched Harry experimentally dip his own fingertips into the water once, before plunging his whole arm into the bucket right up to his shoulder. The water sloshed onto the sand and splashed over Teddy’s plump thighs. Harry looked up at Sirius with wide, delighted eyes and dissolved into the kind of deep, baby belly laughs that always made Sirius laugh, too.

Sirius sat down in one of the chairs and was just about to ask Harry if he wanted to dig, when the words shriveled and died in his throat.

Remus stood over him, backlit by the noonday sun, his feet spread wide in the sand like a wiry, foulmouthed, mathematics superhero. Sirius held his breath, held his gaze, held every part of himself he was legally allowed to hold on a public beach. He couldn’t have looked away if he tried. Remus seemed to move in slow motion. He pulled off his sunglasses and tossed them onto a beach blanket, then crossed his arms in front of himself, grasped the hem of his t-shirt, and pulled it over his head.

“Holy fuck,” Sirius whimpered, curling in on himself like a grub in the dirt.

If Sirius thought Remus looked good with his shirt on, it was nothing to how he looked with it off. He had wide, strong shoulders; a leanly muscled stomach that nipped in at the waist; and finely carved hipbones. A soft dusting of golden hair across his firm chest ran down his abs and disappeared under the waistband of his sinfully short, red swim trunks. His legs were ridiculously, impossibly long, and his thigh muscles undulated and flexed under his skin with every movement. And—perhaps most enticingly of all—he had a long, thin scar running from one sharp collarbone diagonally across his chest. It just grazed the edge of his nipple before continuing jaggedly down the side of his torso.

Beowulf. Sirius needed Beowulf right now.

For he waxed under welkin, in wealth he throve

Remus bent over to pick up his sunglasses, put them back on, and ran a hand through his hair. Sirius whined low in his throat and continued reciting.

In the roadstead rocked a ring-dight vessel

Remus rubbed sunscreen across his chest, down his arms, up his thighs, and Sirius willed himself to disassociate from reality, just this once.

Now Beowulf bode in the burg of the Scyldings

“Will you get my back?”

Remus was looking at Sirius expectantly, holding the sunscreen bottle toward him.

“Me?” Sirius croaked.

“Well, I’d ask Teddy, but I think he’d miss a few spots,” Remus replied with a wry smile, oblivious to the torture he was now threatening Sirius with. “Do you mind?”

Did he mind? Well, that really wasn’t a fair question, now was it?

“Of course not,” Sirius said, taking the offered bottle.

Remus squatted down in front of him (of course he fucking squatted; of course his thighs were strong and beautiful enough for a long, sustained squat in the fucking sand) and Sirius squeezed the bottle a little too exuberantly. It let out a ripping, wet fart of a noise and released a glop of sunscreen so huge it could have covered three Remuses.  

“That’s alright,” Remus laughed, looking over his shoulder at the massive white blob in Sirius’s palm. “I’ll use the rest on your back after.”

Sirius squeezed his eyes shut painfully at the prospect of that, but pushed onward, scooping a bit of the cream onto his other hand and smearing it onto Remus’s skin.

“Ooh, it’s a little cold,” Remus said, jumping a bit in surprise. Goosebumps erupted across his skin.

“Sorry,” Sirius muttered, and he was absolutely not wondering what running an ice cube over that skin would do to him.

Sirius breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth as his palm slid over the rippling contours of Remus’s back, across his shoulder blades, down his spine, and up and over every single rib. He pressed his thumb in long strokes up the firm tendons in Remus’s neck, down the sides of his narrow torso, and across his lower back. His skin was shining and slippery under his hand, and Sirius ran his fingers upward once more, dragging them across the tops of Remus’s shoulders and up the nape of his neck, where a tangle of sweaty curls clung to his skin. Remus let out a little sighing huff of breath, and his head tipped gently to one side, revealing a long expanse of golden neck that Sirius wanted to just…

“I think it’s all rubbed in,” Remus said suddenly. He pulled away quickly, and before Sirius even knew what was happening, Remus had turned around and scooped the excess sunscreen out of his hand.

“Your turn?” Remus asked, not quite meeting Sirius’s eye.

“Yeah, thanks,” Sirius said, quickly stripping off his own shirt, and turning back to Remus, who still wasn’t looking at his face. Instead, he was staring somewhere around the vicinity of Sirius’s sternum.

“Ready?” Sirius asked.

“Oh, yep, sorry,” Remus said, his eyes snapping upward. “I was just…”

But whatever he was, Remus didn’t say. So Sirius turned around and let Remus’s wide hand rub smooth, slippery circles across his back while he continued his recitations: Nowise had they bliss from their booty then to devour their victim, vengeful creatures, seated to banquet at bottom of sea…

“I’m actually fucking parched,” Remus said suddenly when he finished, snapping Sirius out of his reverie.

He flopped into one of the chairs, popped open a cooler, and poured them each a plastic cup of sparkling rosé.  

“Here,” Remus said, tapping his cup against Sirius’s. “To escaping the heat.”

“Cheers to that,” Sirius agreed, and took a sip. It was crisp, dry, and chilled, the perfect remedy for a boilingly hot day. He looked around. He was being ridiculous, yet again. He was on a stunning beach with a new friend and his darling Harry, and Sirius resolved right then to stop being dramatic and just have fun.

And that’s exactly what they did. They dug in the sand and built sandcastles for Harry and Teddy to gleefully destroy; sat in tidepools and caught hermit crabs; ran their fingers through slippery seaweed; and cawed back at crying seagulls swooping over their heads.

Everything felt so easy with Remus. Sirius watched carefully, noticing how he parented at the beach, and tried to emulate him. He reapplied Harry’s sunscreen every time Remus reapplied Teddy’s and gave Harry sips of water whenever Remus handed Teddy his sippy cup. Sirius even noticed Remus reaching into Teddy’s swim diaper periodically to empty it of sand. Remus seemed to do this automatically, without even thinking about it, just pulling the diaper open, tipping it sideways, and emptying the heavy sandbag it was starting to become. Sirius attempted to mimic this, too, and by the third try, he’d almost managed to empty Harry’s diaper completely.

Later, when the tide receded and the other people on the beach started to head home in the late afternoon, they braved the rolling surf, holding the babies tightly to their chests and lifting them up out of each splashing wave that crashed against them.

“One, two, three…wheee!” Remus said again and again, lifting Teddy over his head as the waves licked around his stomach. His strong, golden arms flexed and glistened with sea spray, and Teddy laughed until he puked right into the water. It floated atop the surface of the waves, little purple chunks of blueberry and cheese, and Remus doubled over laughing.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Remus said, wiping Teddy’s messy mouth and chin with his hand and cleaning it in the ocean. He kissed the top of Teddy’s head and hugged him close.

“Are you getting a little sleepy, there, Teddy Bear?” Remus asked softly, and indeed, Teddy’s eyes had started to droop a little. Remus pressed another kiss to his cheek and looked over at Sirius.

“Want to call it a day?” he asked.

The sun was beautiful, casting long, golden rays of light across the sand and water, making it glisten and sparkle over the rippling waves. Sirius looked down at Harry, nearly asleep in the crook of his arm, and he realized he hadn’t been this happy in a very long time, or maybe ever, if he was being honest with himself. But he pushed that thought away, too.

Back on the blanket, they were starting to pack up, when Sirius noticed that Harry’s swim diaper was filled with heavy sand again. He knelt down next to him, reached his fingers inside, and…

“Holy shit!” Sirius cried, yanking his fingers out of the diaper and raising his hands into the air in shock. He stared at them, horrified. It was not sand in Harry’s swim diaper this time. “Holy shit!”

“What’s the mat…oh my fucking god!” Remus yelled, staring at Sirius’s shit-covered fingers. “Is that…”

“It’s not fucking chocolate, Remus!” Sirius shrieked, jumping up and running in ridiculous circles on the sand. Harry and Teddy stared at him, laughing their little heads off, and Teddy hiccupped mightily again, puking up more blueberry and cheese. It rolled down the front of his wet swim shirt and quickly seeped into the fabric. Teddy looked down at himself, momentarily surprised at what he’d done, before starting to laugh again.

Sirius was beginning to get dizzy, running in his stupid little frantic circles, and his hands smelled like…well, they smelled like fucking shit is what they smelled like.

Remus rushed over to Sirius and stilled him with a steadying hand on each shoulder. He reeled back from the smell for only a second and steeled himself to calm Sirius.

“Sirius,” Remus said clearly, looking straight into his eyes. “Go up to the house and wash your hands. The back screen door is unlocked. Just…just open it with your foot or something! I’ll stay here with the boys. Come back when you’ve gotten rid of…that.”

The next hour passed in a blur. Sirius and Remus cleaned up Harry and Teddy as best they could on the beach, but there was only so much baby wipes could accomplish. They were both still filthy, covered in sand and shit and puke. And fish poop, too, probably, Sirius thought. What was the ocean if not an infinitely churning toilet?

Back at the house, they gave both boys baths and changed them into clean pajamas, and by the time they were finished, the babies were both fast asleep on the wide couch cushions, worn out from a long day of driving, sun, and surf. Sirius felt sticky with sunscreen, sand, and seawater, and could feel the salt stiffening in his drying hair. The cottage was cool and breezy, and he was already dreading going back to his sweltering flat.

“Ugh,” Sirius said, leaning his head back against the couch and closing his eyes. “I can’t believe I have to sleep in that fucking oven again tonight.”

Remus was laying spread eagle on the floor, looking like a limp, wrung-out version of himself, when he rolled his head to the side and looked at Sirius through the legs of the coffee table.

“Maybe you don’t have to,” he said, as though he’d just had a revelation.

“What do you mean?” Sirius asked.

“Why don’t we just stay here?”

My god, it was tempting. Too tempting.

“I don’t know, Remus…”

“Sirius,” Remus said, propping himself up on his elbows and leveling him with an exhausted look. “We’re fucking hot and sticky and tired. Our kids are already asleep, and we’re in a house with five empty bedrooms. Five cool empty bedrooms. Do you really want to drive back to the city tonight?”

Of course he didn’t. He wanted nothing more than to shower, have another glass of rosé, sleep with a cool sea breeze across his face, wake up to the sun shining over the ocean, and to Remus…

Fuck.

“Is there a place for the babies to sleep?”

“Yeah,” Remus nodded. “There are three cribs in the nursery upstairs. Me and two of my cousins have kids now.”

It didn’t take much, in the end, for Sirius to give in. They put Harry and Teddy down in the nursery, and Remus sang yet another Welsh lullaby to the boys, as though the heat hadn’t already melted Sirius enough.

Sirius took one of the most enjoyable showers of his life, and when he wrapped a hand around himself, he came almost immediately to the memory of his hands sliding against Remus’s back.

Remus had given him some of his own clothes that he kept in one of the dressers upstairs, and although Sirius was far from a small guy, they were still too big for him. A few minutes later, he and Remus met in the upstairs corridor. Remus had showered, too, and was towel drying his damp curls so they were even messier than usual. He was barefoot and wearing basketball shorts and a white t-shirt, the very same ensemble that Sirius was wearing, except Remus’s fit properly. The only light came from a small nightlight plugged in near the floor, and the only sounds were that of softly falling rain coming from the white noise machine in the nursery and the crashing waves outside.

“I’ve got another bottle of wine chilling in the fridge downstairs,” Remus said, cocking an eyebrow and running his hand through his curls, pulling his fingers through each knot that the towel had made. “You up for it?”

Remus was stunning just then, otherworldly even, with the nightlight casting his beautiful features in sharp shadows. Sirius looked upon the symmetry of his face, and wondered whether the golden ratio could be applied to the distance between his eyes, nose, and lips. He wouldn’t be surprised if it could, wouldn’t be surprised to learn that some divine architect had created Remus out of a perfect mathematical equation. Man + Baby + Wicked Humor + Dirty Mouth + Big Open Heart.

“Yeah,” Sirius said, feeling the heat, and sleepiness, and Remus, Remus, Remus making a fool out of him. “I’m up for it.”

Chapter Text

“Do you hear that?”

Remus cocked his head to one side, pausing as he uncorked a bottle of rosé. Sirius quieted and stilled, and for a moment, the only thing he could hear was the soft drip of condensation from the cold glass bottle onto the kitchen countertop.

They stood in motionless silence for another moment when Sirius heard it, too: A low, distant rumble of thunder. Remus smiled softly to himself—quietly, privately; eyes unfocused, lost in thought—then looked at Sirius, who was leaning with his back to the counter.

“I love thunderstorms in this house. They’re magic.” Remus said in a hushed voice. Then he continued, almost hesitantly. “Do you want to see?”

Sirius felt goosebumps ripple up his neck as a gust of cool ocean wind blew through the open window over the sink, puffing the gauzy white curtains outward.

“Yeah,” Sirius replied without a moment’s hesitation. “How could I say no to magic?”

A curious smile tugged at the corner of Remus’s mouth just then, and his eyebrows furrowed a bit as he looked at Sirius. Lighting flashed, and another rolling crack of thunder sounded, closer this time, creeping in. It rattled the mullioned windows and vibrated the wide, uneven floorboards under their feet. Remus hesitated again for a moment, watching Sirius with an unreadable expression.

“Good,” Remus replied finally, his eyes not leaving Sirius’s. “You should never say no to magic.”

And before Sirius had time to overthink that, Remus was dropping the baby monitor into the pocket of his basketball shorts, using one hand to grab the bottle of rosé and two wine glasses, and leading them out of the kitchen. They went upstairs but didn’t stop in any of the bedrooms. Instead, Remus led them all the way down the corridor to another staircase, this one dark and narrow, with shallow wooden steps that looked like they’d been built a very long time ago for people who were much smaller than them.

They climbed the stairs and emerged into a cedar-scented attic, where Remus flipped on a light switch to illuminate a single bulb that hung from a cord from the pitched, exposed-beam ceiling. But they didn’t stop there, either. Instead, they walked past many generations’ worth of clutter—an antique sewing machine, a dressmaker’s dummy, wooden steamer trunks, teetering piles of magazines with curled and yellowed edges, stacks of old board games—toward a small, wooden ladder-like staircase that rose into a dark space over their heads.

“Are you scared of heights?” Remus asked, turning to Sirius with one hand on the narrow railing. “I probably should have asked you that downstairs.”

Sirius wasn’t scared of heights, but even if he was, he would have powered through. He had a feeling he'd follow Remus just about anywhere.

“No,” he said.

“Great,” Remus replied with a glittery little smile in his eyes and led the way up the steep stairs.

Their heads rose into a tiny, square-shaped room, no bigger than a large closet, with a low ceiling and lined on four sides with windows that covered each wall, top to bottom. The only light came from the attic lightbulb below. It shone upward, like a softly glowing patch of gold on the floor.

“Wow,” Sirius whispered, looking around the window-lined room. They were four stories up, above the house’s roofline, where a spectacular, 360-degree view stretched out around them on all sides. The little village glittered in the distance in one direction, and in the other, the dark, white-capped sea frothed beneath the clouded, dusky sky.

“This is the cupola,” Remus said, looking around, too. “I used to come up here to read or write or just hide when my cousins wouldn’t shut up or if I needed quiet.”

He opened two windows, one on each side of the room, tilting them up and out, and instantly creating a cross breeze. The air outside was shifting quickly, with sharp, briny gusts of cool wind threading and piercing through the heavy heat.

Remus settled into a wide window seat topped with a thick, chintz-covered cushion. He poured a glass of wine for each of them, then set the bottle and the baby monitor on the wooden floor near their feet. Sirius sat down, too. The space was so small that their knees were almost touching.

“This is the best place in the house to watch—”

But Remus was interrupted by a jagged, bright-white bolt of lightning that splintered across the open sky, reflecting off the surface of the sea and lighting up the beach and grassy dunes with an electric flash. Barely a second later, a sharp crack of thunder boomed and rolled around them, and Sirius felt it rumble up his legs where they sat.

“—thunderstorms,” Remus finished with a laugh. He sipped his wine and gazed out into the dark sea, and it wasn’t long before another brilliant bolt of lightning and crack of thunder rent the sky. Soon, the storm rolled through in earnest, violent and wild, like nature fighting itself over the ocean, and Sirius understood why the ancients might have imagined wrathful gods battling in the heavens.

“It’s incredible isn’t it?” Remus asked, as pelting rain and even small pellets of hail pinged against every window, creating a cacophony of sound—rain, waves, thunder, lightning—pounding all around them in their little glass observatory. “I love this place. I could sit here for hours. I have sat here for hours.”

“It’s amazing,” Sirius agreed, mesmerized by the awesome power of the mightily churning sea and sky, not to mention the man next to him. They watched the storm in reverent silence for a long time, their knees and elbows brushing together occasionally whenever they took a sip of wine or shifted in their seats in the small space.

“Have you taken Teddy up here yet?” Sirius asked when the thunder finally grew distant and the rain and hailstorm ceased.

“No, not yet,” Remus said. “I’m sure he’d love it, though, especially if a bird or an airplane flew by. But I’d probably be too worried that he’d somehow sneak out the window and climb down the gutter or something.”

“That sounds like him,” Sirius said.

“And he wouldn’t remember coming up here anyhow. So why risk it?" Remus continued. "I think about that all the time, actually."

“Think about what?” Sirius asked.

“Just the fact that we bust our arses packing diaper bags, hauling crap from place to place, dragging babies to the beach and story time and museums, only to have them puke and cry and shit, and then we end up leaving early, all sweaty, grumpy. And they’ll never remember a fucking second of it!” Remus laughed. “I mean, of course I know why we do it…brain development, socialization, blah, blah, blah. But fuck! It’s exhausting! Why can’t it be easier? Why don’t they just make padded rooms that are only for wild babies?”

“I think they do,” Sirius said. “They’re called bouncy houses. Also known as the ninth circle of hell. My cousin’s kid had one at their birthday party a couple of months ago, and it looked like a torture chamber. One kid got kicked right in the head. She walked at an angle for the rest of the day.”

Remus snorted a laugh.

“Can you imagine the pink eye that’s spread in those things?” he asked.

“Yes, I absolutely can,” Sirius replied. “Which is why I’m dreading the day when Harry says, ‘Padfoot, can I have a go in the giant inflatable germ castle?’”

“What will he say? Pad-what?”

“Oh…Padfoot?” Sirius said, realizing how weird it must sound to the uninitiated. “It’s a nickname from school. Because I’m a runner, and, you know…Sirius, the Dog Star? It kinda stuck, I guess.”

“Padfoot,” Remus repeated softly to himself. “I like it. It’s cute. It suits you.”

“Yeah?” Sirius asked, wondering what he meant. Cute?

“Yeah,” Remus replied with a cheeky smile in his voice. “Because underneath that intimidatingly gorgeous exterior, you’re really a sweet, cuddly puppy, I think.”

“Well, I do like scratches behind the ear,” Sirius said. “And I have pissed in a few inappropriate places in my day.”

Remus tipped his head back and laughed while Sirius continued.

“But cuddly? Remus, I’ve been called many things, but cuddly was never one of them,” Sirius laughed, desperately willing himself to ignore the heat prickling up his thighs and choosing instead to refill their wine glasses.

“Never?” Remus asked. “What have you been called, then?”

“God, too many things to name,” Sirius said, shaking his head. “But I do remember one bloke who called me, ‘A damn fine piece of arse, but mouthy as fuck.’”

Remus barked out a laugh, and even in the dark, Sirius could tell how much his smile lit up his face.

“That,” Remus said, “is astonishingly accurate. Except for the ‘but.’”

“What do you mean, ‘the but?’”

“I just mean that ‘mouthy as fuck’ shouldn’t be a deterrent. It’s the best part.”

“Glad someone finally appreciates it,” Sirius said, his cheeks warming. He wondered, yet again, whether Remus was actually flirting, or if Sirius was just a safe person to talk to like this, since dating was off the table for both of them.

“They’d be crazy not to appreciate it, Padfoot,” Remus said, and Sirius liked the way his old nickname sounded rolling across Remus’s tongue and off his pretty lips. “And for the record, you’re absolutely cuddly. Anyone who disagrees has never seen you with Harry.”

“Well, then, in that case, you’re pretty cuddly, too. I watched you all day on the beach.”

“Creep,” Remus said, and they both laughed.

“I mean, I watched you to learn some tips,” Sirius said, surprised at his own honesty. “On how to be a good dad. I didn’t really have much of an example growing up.”

Sirius’s heart pounded at this admission, a little embarrassed—a lot embarrassed—but he wanted to say it for some reason. He wanted Remus to know. He held his breath waiting for answer, waiting for Remus to think he was weird or pathetic.

But once again, Sirius didn’t need to fully see Remus’s face to understand his expression. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open, like his heart was aching and overflowing all at once.

“Oh, Sirius,” Remus breathed. He leaned forward, seemingly involuntarily, and took Sirius’s hand, closing his long, strong fingers around it. Their skin pressing together felt impossibly comforting and grounding, like James’s hugs and Harry’s snuggles. He looked straight into Sirius’s eyes, gold melting into silver, and paused before speaking, as though urging Sirius to understand that his words would be important and true.

“Sirius, you don’t need tips,” Remus said, gripping his hand tighter. “You’ve got the good dad thing down solid. Hall of fame. I promise. Harry is happy and healthy and brilliant, and he fucking adores you.”

Sirius didn’t reply. He just nodded and squeezed Remus’s hand, swallowing down the lump in his throat. Remus smiled softly and squeezed back.

“Trust me. You’re amazing. And you don’t want tips from me, anyhow,” Remus said. “I curse like a fucking sailor and get kicked out of story time.”

“And actually, now that you mention it, you were the reason I stuck my fingers in shit on the beach,” Sirius said, trying to deflect from the raw openness that now coursed through his heart.

“See?” Remus replied, and although his voice was light, Sirius still thought he heard emotion fizzing around its edges. “I’m full of terrible ideas.”

They didn’t say anything else for a moment, but didn’t let go of each other right away, either. They just breathed together instead, staring down at their joined hands.

It was Remus who pulled away first, shifting a little and running the hand that had been holding Sirius’s through his curls.

“You know, I’ve got a school nickname myself,” Remus said. “It’s Moony.”

“Lemme guess,” Sirius mused, swirling his wine in the glass to keep himself from imagining his own hand tangled in Remus’s hair. “Remus and Romulus were raised by a wolf…that leads to a werewolf, and the full moon. Therefore, Moony?”

“You sound like your teacher-self right now, and that explanation would make perfect sense, actually,” Remus said. “Maybe I should tell that story instead of the real one.”

“What’s the real one?”

“I got fucking pissed on Jack and Cokes watching the rugby and mooned the headmaster,” Remus said, and Sirius choked on his wine from laughing. Remus thumped him on the back while Sirius laughed and coughed, tears streaming down his face.

“The real story is much better,” Sirius said when he finally caught his breath.

“Well, the people who were forced to look at my skinny arse probably didn’t think so,” Remus replied, and they both dissolved into laughter again.

The storm had fully blown through now. Outside, the clouds were breaking up and floating away in gray whisps, until finally, little pinpricks of starlight and the moon emerged over the ocean, bathing them in silvery light. The wine bottle was empty, and Sirius felt lightheaded and floaty under the vast stars. From their perch in the high cupola, he felt like he could touch the sky. They sat in easy silence for a few minutes, watching the sea, when Remus finally spoke again.

“You know, Teddy’s not the only one,” he said. “I’ve never taken anyone else up here, either.”

Sirius’s stomach squirmed oddly at Remus’s words, and he felt grateful that they were still in near darkness. He didn’t trust his face right now.

“You haven’t?” Sirius asked, his voice more hushed than he meant it to be.

“No,” Remus said, staring out at the crashing waves, his perfect profile silhouetted against the window. “Maybe it’s because I spent so much energy trying to keep my cousins out. All girls, except for me.”

Remus tilted his head sideways at Sirius with a little smile before looking back at the waves.

“As for anyone else…I don’t know,” he continued. “I’ve definitely had friends visit this house. Boyfriends, too. But this place kind of feels like my special secret. Too special to share. I spent a lot of time up here as a kid. Maybe I figured myself out up here a little, too.”

“In what way?” Sirius asked.

“You know, the usual… queer kid trying to figure out if it’s normal to think Captain Jack Sparrow is the hot one instead of Kiera Knightly, like all your mates,” Remus laughed.

“Ahh, the Pirates of the Caribbean gay awakening,” Sirius nodded. “I know it well. Although it was Orlando Bloom for me. I’m a sucker for those brown eyes. The kind you could drown in and be happy, even gasping for your last breath. I still remember that line he says to Elizabeth at the end of the film…gets me every time.”

Sirius started to quote the dialogue, but he didn’t quote it alone. Instead, Remus’s voice mingled with his, and they said it together.

“’I should've told you every day, from the moment I met you. I love you.’”

Sirius’s voice trembled a bit and trailed off. He stared at Remus, amazed.

“You know it,” Sirius said.

“It’s a good one,” Remus shrugged in quiet answer. “I don’t know how she didn’t throw herself into his arms that very second.”

Sirius’s heart pounded, and a strange feeling whispered over his skin. He was suddenly very aware of Remus’s body next to him, warm and kinetic, even when they weren’t touching.

“She was clearly an idiot,” Sirius whispered, his throat curiously dry all of a sudden. Parched, like Remus had said that afternoon on the beach.

“Clearly,” Remus agreed.

It was a bit brighter in the cupola with the storm cleared and the moonlight shining in on them, and Remus was just…well, he was just lovely, really. Wide open and sweet-faced and funny and disarmingly honest. Sirius’s gaze darted down to Remus’s softly parted lips, slid down to his sharp jaw, his golden neck, his jutting collarbone, to the very edge of the thin scar that Sirius couldn’t see in the dark but knew was there. He watched Remus’s Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallowed hard.

“Storm’s over,” Remus said in an almost whisper, pulling Sirius’s eyes away from his neck and back up to his face. “We should probably check on the kids.”

“Yeah,” Sirius nodded, wishing, somehow, that the whole world could be as clearly visible and beautiful as it was right then from up in Remus’s special, secret, glass-walled cupola.

They gathered up their wine glasses and the empty bottle and went back down the ladder, through the attic, and down the shallow stairs. They walked quietly down the hall and opened the door to the nursery, which was bathed in gentle rain sounds and softly illuminated by a nightlight casting little stars all over the ceiling.

They tiptoed through the room, and Sirius’s heart lurched as he approached Harry’s crib.

It was empty.

But then…

“Sirius,” Remus whispered, touching Sirius’s wrist with gentle fingertips. “Look.”

Harry and Teddy were in the same crib, lying feet-to-head on either end of the mattress. Harry had somehow Houdini-ed his way out of his own crib and into Teddy’s. Remus and Sirius must not have heard it because of the storm. There was a baby-proofing doorknob cover on the bedroom door, so Harry wouldn’t have been able to get out of the nursery at least, but obviously he hadn’t wanted to. Sirius didn't know what to say. He was shocked.

“I’m sorry. He’s never done anything like this before,” Sirius whispered back. “I’ll get him out.”

Sirius started to reach into the crib, but Remus stilled him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Nah, leave them,” Remus whispered, staring at their sleeping boys with soft affection. “They look pretty happy together, don’t you think?”

Sirius looked down into the crib, too, and his heart and lungs suddenly felt too big for his ribcage. Harry was beautiful, the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, with his chubby cheeks and snuffly little breaths and the corner of Teddy’s blanket clutched in his fist. Teddy was beautiful, too. Innocent and perfect, the both of them, sleeping under the glowing stars.

“They really do,” Sirius agreed, giving them one last look before tiptoeing out of the nursing and clicking the door gently shut behind them. Remus and Sirius paused for a moment in the quiet corridor, and Remus smiled gently.

“Well, goodnight,” he said.

“Goodnight,” Sirius replied, and they both turned toward their separate rooms at opposite ends of the corridor.

Sirius had his hand on his bedroom doorknob when he looked up again.

“Remus?”

“Yeah?” Remus asked, his eyes bright, even in the dimly lit hallway.

“It was beautiful up there,” Sirius said. “Thanks for showing it to me.”

Remus pulled his lower lip between his teeth for a second before replying, an unconscious movement, it seemed, and Sirius’s heart jumped into his throat.

“Thank you for thinking it was beautiful,” Remus replied, before disappearing into his bedroom.   

Sirius looked at Remus’s closed door for a second longer, then went to bed, too. He thought he’d be lying awake for a long time, struggling to sleep in a strange bed and a strange house, wearing someone else’s clothes, but it took him no time at all. He drifted off quickly to the sound of the rolling surf; to the comforting thought of Harry, happy and cozy and safe; and to the memory of crashing waves and powerful lightning and a strong hand holding his.

Sirius woke the next morning to bright sunlight and a cool, salty breeze kissing across his face. Waves crashed and gulls cawed outside as he awoke slowly in the gauzy, whitewashed bedroom. He was so comfortable, with a light, summer quilt over him and the straw fan spinning overhead that he thought he could easily just lay there all day. He let his eyes drift closed a second longer until he smelled something else: Coffee and bacon. He rolled his head to the side. It was 8:00 am. He hadn’t slept until 8:00 am since…well, it had been a while and had involved a man named Lucky, and his roommate, too, Sirius remembered.

Sirius shuffled down the hall to check on Harry, even before going to the bathroom, but was greeted by a note taped to the nursery door and written in a messy, left-slanting hand: “Kids slept great, we’re all downstairs.”

“Pa!” Harry cried in happy greeting upon seeing Sirius emerge into the kitchen a few minutes later. He had a bright smile on his strawberry-covered face.

“Morning, my love,” Sirius said, kissing Harry’s forehead. Harry and Teddy sat side by side in identical high chairs, each eating cut-up strawberries and strips of buttered toast.

“Pa!” Teddy mimicked. He was dressed in what looked like a onesie made from an old, pink Bikini Kill t-shirt.

“Nice outfit, Teds,” Sirius said, leaning down to ruffle his blonde curls, too.

Sirius was just turning around when he heard a voice behind him. Remus had been standing behind an open closet door and moved to tend a pan full of sizzling bacon on the stove.

As usual, the sight of his blinding gorgeousness nearly knocked Sirius over. But this morning, it was a million times worse. Not only was his hair deliciously pillow-rumpled, but he was wearing a pair of dark-rimmed glasses and a frilly apron embroidered with roosters over his t-shirt and basketball shorts. It was tied tightly around his trim waist and looked simply too fetching to be allowed.

“Morning, sunshine! I made the kids breakfast, I hope you don’t mind,” Remus said with that grin of his, leaving Sirius just unstitched, top to toes. “Thought I’d let you sleep a bit. Coffee?”

“Mmmm,” Sirius replied, nodding dimly. All his brain could register was hair, lips, fingers, apron. Pretty boy is very pretty.

Sirius watched Remus move deftly around the kitchen, pulling the bacon off the stove and turning off the burner, before grabbing a ceramic mug from the cabinet. Sirius had never before wished to be an inanimate object, but he would’ve fancied a few minutes as that mug now that Remus was wrapping his hand around it. He filled it with steaming hot coffee and pushed it across the table to Sirius.

“You want cream or anything?” Remus asked.

“No thanks,” Sirius said.

Fuck. He did want cream. He didn’t know why he said no.

Actually, he did know why. It was the same reason he was feeling woozy and stupid all of a sudden. He hadn’t had time yet to properly acclimate to Remus’s dazzling Remus-ness. He wasn’t expecting to be smacked with it only minutes after waking up. And now Remus was standing there all beautiful and sexy, wearing an apron and pouring him coffee, and taking care of Harry, and Sirius thought he would faint with the sheer hotness of it all.

He groped at the back of a kitchen chair and sat down clumsily, sloshing his coffee a little, before taking a too-big gulp and promptly burning his tongue and throat. Fuck, black coffee was hot!

“You know?” he coughed. “Some cream would be great, after all.”

“Sure thing,” Remus replied, retrieving the cream from the fridge before wiping a bit of buttery toast crumbs from the side of Harry’s face with a soft cloth. Sirius whimpered internally and imagined trying to hold his body still and tight to keep his cells from falling apart and evaporating. It was official. Remus was trying to end his life.

“Da!” Teddy cried, grabbing Remus’s finger.

“Da!” Harry repeated, and Sirius’s heart nearly stopped. But he didn’t have long to think about it.

“Knock knock!” a woman’s voice said.

Remus looked up, and a bright smile broke across his face. The voice belonged to a small elderly woman wearing a faded housedress and a wooly cardigan, despite the warm day. Her gray hair was piled atop her head in a loose bun, and she carried a cane painted with bright orange flames in one hand and a wire basket filled with pretty brown speckled eggs in the other.

“Natalie!” Remus said, rushing over to the screen door and pushing it open on its creaking hinges to let her in. “It’s so good to see you. What are you doing here?”

“I saw that ridiculous van of yours in the driveway, and wanted to get my Remus and Teddy fix,” the woman said, putting the eggs onto the table and pulling Remus down into a hug that he had to bend nearly in half to give her. “Thought I’d bring you some eggs, too. My girls have been busy this summer. We've had more eggs than we can keep up with. We can only eat so many omelets.”

“Where’s Ellie?” Remus asked.  

“She’s home taking a bubble bath, the decadent thing. I buy her one bottle of posh lavender soap, and she thinks she’s Zsa Zsa Gabor!” Natalie said. Her eyes traveled to the babies, then to Sirius, and back to Remus. She cocked an eyebrow and gave Remus a knowing smirk. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No, this is my friend Sirius and his godson, Harry. They’re visiting from the city,” Remus said. “Sirius Black, this is our neighbor, Natalie Prince. She and her wife were my grandparents’ best friends.”

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Sirius said, offering his hand. Natalie shook it and smiled kindly.

“The pleasure is mine,” Natalie replied, her eyes sparkling. “Remus doesn’t usually bring handsome friends around. Or at least, he doesn’t usually make them breakfast.”

“Natalie!” Remus laughed, shaking his head, a sweet pink rising in his cheeks. “Sirius really is just a friend. We met a few weeks ago at a library story time with the boys.”

“Hmm, what a shame. He looks like a cinema star!” Natalie said, then leaned conspiratorially toward Sirius, patting the top of his hand with her gnarled fingers and giving him a little wink. “Hope you two come around.”

“You’re a troublemaker, Natalie,” Remus said. “Would you like some coffee?”

“No, thanks, darling, I can't stay. I just came over to lay eyes on you and give this little one a squeeze. I need to get back to Queen Ellie before she starts demanding bonbons in the bath,” Natalie said, bending over to kiss Teddy on the cheek. He blew a wet raspberry and a string of pink drool dripped out against his chin as he giggled.

“How about a squeeze for you, too?” Natalie said, and kissed Harry next. Harry gave her a gummy, but guarded, smile. Harry was always a bit shy with strangers at first. Well, almost always. Not Remus, Sirius realized just then.

“It was nice to meet you, Sirius,” Natalie said. “I hope to see more of you.”

“Likewise,” Sirius replied.

“You hear that, Remus?” Natalie said, standing on her tiptoes to kiss Remus’s cheek. “You’ll have to bring him round again.”

“Goodbye, Natalie,” Remus said pointedly.

“Goodbye, darling!” Natalie replied, and stepped out the swinging screen door onto the porch and down the gravel-covered driveway.

“Sorry about that,” Remus said when she was safely out of earshot. “Not sure what got into her.”

“Glad to know I'm not the only one with neighbors like that," Sirius replied. "If you need me to pretend to be your fake boyfriend, just say the word.”

They spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon at the beach again, and Remus kept the boys entertained by flying a green kite in the shape of a dragon over their heads, running back and forth down the beach, kicking up sand and looking wonderfully deranged, as he roared and pretended to breathe fire. Harry and Teddy laughed until they hiccupped (and Teddy puked, of course), and by the time they were finally packing up to go home, Sirius was sad to say goodbye to the place.

“We’ll have to come back again before the summer ends,” Remus said, apparently feeling the same pang in his heart as they drove away. The boys were wide awake and the blistering heat had mercifully broken, so Remus rolled down the windows and cranked up the music—The Wiggles—and they joyfully sang the whole ride home with the wind whipping their hair across their faces.

At last, they pulled up to Sirius’s block of flats, and Sirius suddenly wished he didn’t have to get out of the car.

“Thank you,” he said, pulling Harry’s diaper bag off the floor and onto his lap as he moved to open the van door. “This was wonderful. Every second.”

“Even the shit?” Remus laughed.

“Even that, oddly enough,” Sirius said, and he really meant it. He wanted to hug Remus goodbye, and was trying to talk himself out of it, when a rapid little rap on the van window made him jump.

“Mrs. Smith,” Sirius said, rolling down the window. “Mrs. Bagshot. What are you two doing?”

“You didn’t come home last night!” Mrs. Bagshot said, shooting Remus a sharp glare before looking at Sirius again. “I hope he was a gentleman.”

“Of course!” Sirius assured them. “Separate bedrooms and everything.”

“She said a gentleman, not a monk,” Mrs. Smith snorted. “Separate bedrooms? Really? What a shame.”

“Really,” Sirius nodded.

“Still,” Mrs. Bagshot said. “Things are obviously progressing between you two, and we haven’t even sat down with him yet.”

“Sat down?” Sirius asked, but Mrs. Bagshot and Mrs. Smith ignored him.

“Remus, is your diary free for Sunday dinner this week?” Mrs. Smith asked. Sirius looked at Remus in a bit of a panic.

“You don’t have to…” Sirius started, but everyone spoke over him.

“Oh, yes he does!” Mrs. Bagshot and Mrs. Smith said together, just as Remus answered, “Free as a bird!”

“Wonderful. Come round at 3:00, with Teddy, too, of course,” Mrs. Smith said.

“I hope you’re not a vegetarian, or anything crazy like that,” Mrs. Bagshot said, driving another wicked glare at Remus.

“No ma’am,” Remus promised. “I love all the meats.”

“Glad to hear it!” Mrs. Smith said. She reached into the car and patted Remus on the cheek. “See you then!”

“Don’t be late. And wear something smart,” Mrs. Bagshot added, then plucked disdainfully at his Joan Jett t-shirt. “Not this.”

“But it’s vintage,” Remus mumbled, as Mrs. Bagshot and Mrs. Smith walked back inside the lobby.

“You love ‘all the meats?’” Sirius asked Remus. “Really?”

“Look, it might not be my most eloquent turn of phrase, but I actually do love all the meats,” Remus insisted. “Especially Sunday roast.”

“Are you sure you want to do keep doing this?” Sirius asked for what felt like the millionth time. “We could fake break up now, and they’d probably only wish God to smite you for a week or two before moving on.”  

“I don’t want to be smote at all!” Remus said. “I want to have Sunday dinner with you and your pushy fucking neighbors.”

“Well, when you put it like that…” Sirius said.

He gathered up Harry and their things, got out of the van, and turned back to Remus, facing him through the open window.

“Thanks again, Moony,” Sirius said, and was delighted to see a happily surprised smile curve across Remus’s face at his use of the nickname. “And don’t listen to them. You don’t have to wear anything special on Sunday.”

“Excuse me, I clean up nicely, thank you very much. And so does my son,” Remus said, and Sirius glanced at Teddy in the back seat. He was still wearing his Bikini Kill onesie and had his red bra draped around his neck like a scarf.

“Bleg!” Teddy cried through a massive spit bubble.

“Well said, Teddy,” Remus said. “Now if you’ll excuse us, I have some dried strawberry mush that I need to go chisel out of his hair. And don’t worry. I’ll look extra good on Sunday, Padfoot. They won't know what hit them.”

He gave Sirius a wink and drove off into the sunset.

Or rather, he drove off into traffic in his white minivan with the green door, leaving Sirius a broken husk of himself on the pavements and wondering how, exactly, Remus could possibly look any better. “Extra good?” Fuckity fuck on a stick.

“He might actually kill me this time, Harry,” Sirius muttered, as someone blared their car horn to test out Remus’s “Honk if you Love Beanie Babies” bumper sticker, earning a cheerful middle finger out the window from Remus.

“Ya,” Harry agreed.

Chapter Text

Sunday dinner was in six hours. But before that, it was Pavlova O’Clock in Sirius’s kitchen.

Remus had mentioned several playdates ago that pavlova was his favorite pudding.

“Really? Pavlova?” Sirius asked, as they pushed Harry and Teddy on side-by-side swings in the park. “It’s so simple.”

“Simple but elegant,” Remus said, making Teddy dissolve into giggles by ducking under the swing as it arced upward and reappearing in front of him. “It’s my desert island food and my food of choice for my last meal, too.”

“Wow, you’re serious about pavlova,” Sirius replied, covering his eyes and saying “Peek-a-boo!” to Harry every few upward swings.

“Probably because I never get to have it. All the bakers in my life say it’s a pain in the arse to make.”

“You could just make it yourself, you know.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that right after I grow wings and fly to the moon. I can barely make a sandwich. I’ve kept Teddy alive on luck and love alone.”

“Same,” Sirius laughed.

“What about you? What’s your favorite?” Remus asked. “Actually wait, don’t tell me…I want to think of the poshest pudding there is…Crème brûlée?”

“Peek-a-boo! Excuse me, my favorite is decidedly un-posh.” Sirius said. “I love an apple crumble. It makes me feel cozy and loved. Like a warm hug.”

“Actually, you’re right,” Remus said, looking at Sirius with that sweet, thoughtful smile of his. “It reminds me of my gran.”

As happened so often when he was talking to Remus, Sirius answered before he had a chance to really think too hard about what he was saying.

“It reminds me of a gran I wish I had,” he said.

Immediately his neck prickled with embarrassed heat. Why? Why did Remus draw the most strangely honest things out of him?

Remus pushed Teddy a few more times on the swing before he answered.

“Well, I’d never eat pavlova again if it meant you could have that,” he said.

Now, Sirius was bound and determined to make Remus a perfect pavlova for that afternoons’ dinner.

“You want to make him a pavlova?” Marlene had snorted over coffee that morning as she sat in Sirius’s kitchen and eyed the vast array of newly purchased baking supplies scattered across the counter. “Wow, you’ve got it bad.”

“Nope,” Sirius insisted, peeling the price tag off the bottom of a brand-new baking sheet. “I’m just trying to thank him for playing along with the whole fake dating thing. He’s coming to dinner with four elderly stalkers tonight, Marlene. The least I can do is make him a pavlova.”

“No, the least you can do is buy him a pint,” Marlene said. “Or suck his—”

Sirius cleared his throat and nodded over to Harry, who was building a colorful tower of Mega Bloks on the floor and laughing every time it tipped over.

“Sorry,” Marlene said, eyeing Harry, too. “I meant to say, you can kiss his special place between his legs.”

Sirius put the pan down and stared at her.

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” he said. “And never say anything so disturbing again.”

Now, Sirius was hunched over his phone, studying Mary Berry’s recipe for pavlova.

“Whisk the egg whites on high speed until they are like a cloud,” Sirius read aloud, then stared at the puddle of clear egg whites in the bowl.

“Like a cloud?” he repeated. What the fuck does that mean?

Eh. He’d probably recognize it when he saw it. He read on.

“When the whites look shiny, thick, and stiff,” he read. Well, he definitely had experience with “thick and stiff.” He should be all set there.

Add the vinegar…vinegar? Weird, but Mary Berry seemed fairly trustworthy, so Sirius decided not to question her.

He read on. There was so much more. Stuff about the piping bag, making a “basket of merengue,” and whisking the cream to soft peaks, whatever those were.

He shook his head like a dog trying to dislodge water from his ears. This was fine. He was Sirius Black! He was always top in his year! Gifted, his teachers said! He was a teacher himself, for fuck’s sake! If it was him versus a bowl of egg whites, certainly he would win.

“Does this look like a cloud to you, mate?” Sirius asked Harry a few minutes later, crouching on the floor and titling the mixing bowl toward him.

Harry peered inside, grabbed a red Mega Blok and gently dropped it into the center of the bowl, where it quickly sank beneath the frothy foam. Yes, pretty cloudlike, now that Sirius had seen that helpful demonstration.

“Ya,” Harry said, turning his big green eyes up to Sirius.

“Thanks,” Sirius sighed.

He carried on. He added the castor sugar, little by little. He whipped the eggs until they were, indeed, stiff, thick, and shiny. He chopped pistachios and dumped those in, too. Finally, he filled a piping bag with the sticky merengue and squeezed it into a lovely rectangle onto the baking sheet.

Well, perhaps not quite a rectangle. More like an avant-garde parallelogram. He’d just say something pretentious like it was his Cubist interpretation of a pavlova.

He slid the baking sheet into the oven, dutifully checking and rechecking it as it cooked, adjusting the oven temperature, following the instructions to the letter, and imagining himself on the next season of Bake Off, being praised for his flaky pastries and flirting cheekily with Paul Hollywood.

Finally the pavlova was finished. He pulled it from the oven and admired it as it cooled. It was perfect. White and creamy looking, ready to be topped with berries and cream, like a beautiful, sugary coronet. He gently placed a hand on each side and lifted upward. But his fingers slid, empty, into the air.

He tried again. And again. But the pavlova didn’t move.

His perfect, beautiful, parallelogram was stuck to the fucking pan.

Sirius tried to pry it loose, pressing the pads of his fingers against the sides of the firm merengue, but it wouldn’t budge. He even held the pan upside down and smacked it a few times. Yet it was no use. It was absolutely cemented to the baking sheet.

“But I did everything right!” Sirius’s said, his voice cracking through a rising panic. He grabbed his phone.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Sirius hissed, scrolling backwards through the recipe, reading and rereading every instruction. Yes, he’d done that! And that, and that, and—

Shit.

His eyes drifted sideways to the unopened box of nonstick baking paper sitting innocently next to him on the counter. He grabbed it and thrust it into the air toward the heavens.

“I am fortune’s fool!” he said to the ceiling.

“Foo!” Harry yelled, ramming his Mega Blok tower into the air, too.

Sirius flung the box aside and grabbed his phone again. He needed help.

“How’s my little Jamie Oliver doing?” Marlene asked.

“It’s stuck!” he cried.

“I knew celibacy wouldn’t work out for you,” Marlene replied.

“I’m talking about the pavlova, you perv! It’s glued to the fucking pan,” Sirius said, the hysteria rising in his voice. “What am I going to do? Dinner is in an hour!”

“Have you tried a spatula?” Marlene said.

“Yes! But it was too thick!”

“I bet you’ve never said those words before, have you?”

“Marlene! Not the time!”

He must’ve been practically yelling because he heard Dorcas’s voice in the background.

“How about a butter knife?” she suggested.

“Yes! A butter knife!” Sirius said, yanking open the silverware drawer. Why hadn’t he thought of that?

He held his breath, as he gently slid the knife under one edge of the merengue, watching it slowly yield to the pressure. Carefully, he dragged the knife sideways around the pavlova as delicately as he could and lifting it up, little by little.

“It’s working!” Sirius breathed, pushing more, and a bit more. It was almost there!

It was just about to lift off the pan completely when there was a crumbling, cracking sound.

“NO!” Sirius cried.

The pavlova was off the pan.

In three pieces.

He stared down at it, muttering and whimpering incoherently, when he heard Dorcas’s voice again.

“Give me the phone,” she said. There was a shuffling sound of the phone being handed off, and a second later, Dorcas’s calm voice was speaking in Sirius’s ear.

“Hi, love,” she said. “Did it break?”

“Yes,” he replied weakly, still staring at the broken pieces.

“Pavlovas are finicky as fuck, I break them all the time,” Dorcas said. “You don’t have to worry, though! You can just turn it into Eton Mess!”

“But Remus loves pavlova,” Sirius insisted. “It’s his desert island food!”

“Alright, then,” Dorcas said carefully, as though she was talking him off a 20-story ledge. “You can call it a Deconstructed Pavlova. Very haute cuisine. Any chance you have a trifle bowl?”

He didn’t, but he knew where he could get one. He grabbed Harry and dashed out the door.

“Does anyone have a trifle bowl I can borrow?”

Sirius kept one foot in the lift as he called his question into the lobby. At least a dozen gray-haired heads looked up at him from their card games.

“I do,” said one woman whose name Sirius did not know. “Flat 321. Door’s unlocked. Look in the cabinet above the hob. And take a biscuit, too!”

“Thank you!” Sirius replied breathlessly, as the lift doors slid shut again and the lobby disappeared from view.

An hour later, Sirius stood in front of Mrs. Smith’s door. A wreath of silk forsythias hung from a hook, and a cheerful welcome mat lay on the hallway rug, as though she lived in a little country cottage, not a block of flats in the city.

Sirius held Harry and a bucket of blocks with one hand, the trifle in the other, and the diaper bag over his shoulder. He gently kicked the door with the toe of one of his leather loafers instead of knocking. He was wearing a simple, blue cotton shirt under a tan blazer and a pair of white chinos.

“Hello, boys!” Mrs. Smith said when she opened the door. She wore her usual flowered house dress, but Sirius noticed she’d added a strand of pearls for the occasion. “Come in! Don’t you both look handsome!”

Mrs. Smith’s flat looked a little like an antique shop, with its heavy oak furniture and fussy little doilies everywhere. But it smelled wonderful, like succulent roast beef, rich gravy, and golden Yorkshire pudding.

“Is that a trifle?” Mrs. Smith asked. “It’s beautiful! Look at those layers!”

“I tried to make a pavlova,” Sirius confessed.

“But you broke the merengue?” Mrs. Smith nodded knowingly. “I know how that is. Pavlovas are more difficult than my late husband.”

They slid the trifle into the fridge and headed into the living room, where Mrs. Bagshot, Mrs. Figg, and Mrs. Prewett were already sitting on the overstuffed couch and chairs, sipping wine and cackling at some unknown joke.

“And then I told her, that’s not his face, that’s his arse!” Mrs. Bagshot said.

“Oh, Lordy, you’ve made me tinkle, Bathilda!” Mrs. Figg howled, clutching at her knee with one gnarled hand.

“What else is new?” Mrs. Prewett snorted.

“At least she’s wearing adult nappies now,” Mrs. Bagshot said.

Mrs. Smith cleared her throat, and all three of them looked up.

“Ladies, look who’s here!” Mrs. Smith said, ushering Sirius and Harry into the sitting room, where a Perry Como record was spinning on the turntable.

“Sirius!”

“The man of the hour!”

“Look at Harry in his little Peter Pan collar!”

“What a handsome pair!”

Everyone gushed at them, as usual, but Mrs. Bagshot’s words cut through the din.

“Your friend is late,” she said.

Sirius looked at his watch. It was 2:59 and 45 seconds.

“He is not!” Mrs. Smith scoffed. “You lot were 20 minutes early!”

Sirius looked down at his watch again. Fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine…

BUZZ

“Ha!” Mrs. Smith said. “Right on time.”

She shuffled over to the flat’s intercom and pressed a button.

“Hello?” she called into it in a singsong voice, standing on her slippered tiptoes.

“Hi, it’s Remus!” Sirius heard his deep voice say through the speaker, and his stomach did an excited little flip. God, it was starting already.

“Come on up, dear!” Mrs. Smith said. She opened her mouth to say something to Sirius, but the oven timer buzzed in the kitchen.

“That’ll be the Yorkshire pudding,” she said. “I need to pull them out of the oven. Would you get the door, please?”

Sirius nodded, and she bustled away. He tapped his foot in front of the door, waiting. Down the hall, he heard Harry laughing as Mrs. Prewett played peek-a-boo, holding an embroidered napkin over her face again and again.

Finally, there was a knock on the door. Sirius opened it, and as usual, the breath left his lungs.

He was suddenly face-to-face with Remus Motherfucking Lupin.

And he looked scorchingly, sinfully good.

“Hi,” Remus said with a surprised smile at the sight of Sirius. “I wasn’t expecting to see you at the door. Do I have the right flat?”

Sirius could only nod in reply as he gripped the doorframe, lightheaded. Remus was wearing his glasses again, along with a trim, white Oxford shirt with the top two buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, slim-fitting charcoal gray trousers, and black Chelsea boots. Teddy—who had on a button-down shirt and a candy apple red bowtie—was strapped to Remus’s chest in the baby carrier. Despite the rest of his cleaned-up appearance, though, Remus’s hair was the same gorgeous mop of messy, close-cropped curls that it always was, and the juxtaposition of that with his clothes made Sirius want to fall to his knees and worship at his feet.

“You look good,” Remus said in a low voice to Sirius, and Sirius watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat.

“Welcome, boys!” Mrs. Smith’s voice said behind him. She shuffled past Sirius and pulled Remus and Teddy inside. “Remus! You didn’t need to bring anything!”

Sirius was so overcome by Remus’s searing presence, he didn’t notice that Remus hadn’t arrived emptyhanded.

“Thank you for having us,” Remus said, handing Mrs. Smith a small package tied with a pink grosgrain ribbon.

“Oh! A bespoke bridge-scoring set!” she said, as she lifted the cover off the box. “I love bridge! What a thoughtful gift. Thank you!”

“You’re welcome,” Remus replied. “I hope you like it.”

“I love it,” she said. “And what’s this?”

She was peering at the second item in Remus’s hand, a ceramic casserole dish covered in clingfilm.

“It’s an apple crumble,” Remus said, and Sirius felt the breath catch in his throat. He watched, motionless, as Remus handed the casserole dish to Mrs. Smith, then put a squirming Teddy onto the floor. Teddy immediately crawled over to Harry, wrapped his arms around his neck, and pressed his mouth into a wide, wet O against Harry’s cheek.

Remus glanced at Sirius, and the edges of his lips curved into a little smile that Sirius knew was just for him.

“I felt like giving someone a warm hug,” he said quietly, his eyes not leaving Sirius’s.

“It looks wonderful,” Mrs. Smith said.

Then, out of nowhere, Remus stepped closer to Sirius and took his hand. They were close enough for their chests to brush together, close enough for Sirius to smell Remus’s soft curls, his golden skin, his strawberry-scented lips and warm cologne.

“Hi,” Sirius murmured, unable to look away.

“Hi,” Remus answered, the word a small, raspy noise from the back of his throat. He threaded their fingers together, leaned down, and pressed a delicate kiss to Sirius’s cheek. He lingered there for a moment, his lips soft and full against Sirius’s skin. But unlike before, Remus didn’t pull away immediately. Instead, he tilted his chin upward, and leaned closer, his lips grazing the shell of Sirius’s ear, his warm breath ghosting across Sirius’s neck as he spoke.

“Time to lay it on thick, yeah?” he whispered.

Then, he stood up straight and gazed at Sirius, their faces still inches apart, their hands still clasped. Remus was stunning up close, more stunning than Sirius had ever realized before, with his honey-warm freckles and softly fanning eyelashes and pillowy, bee-stung mouth. He had another scar, too, pink and angled, just above his upper lip, and Sirius wondered what it would feel like under his tongue, under his teeth.

“Yeah,” Sirius whispered back with a shaky little nod.

They stood like that for a second longer before Mrs. Smith led them into the sitting room, where they followed her, hand in hand.

“Everyone, this is Remus, and you’ve all met his son, Teddy,” Mrs. Smith said, gesturing them onto the sofa. “Remus, this is Mrs. Prewett and Mrs. Figg, and you’ve met Mrs. Bagshot.”

“Hello, everyone,” Remus said, looking around at them as they sat down. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

Remus let go of Sirius’s hand and instead, reached an arm around his waist, resting his fingers lightly on the very edge of his hipbone. It was an odd thing, the way it made him feel floaty and grounded all at once, and Sirius found himself melting easily into Remus’s side, their thighs pressing warmly together on the squashy floral sofa.

“Likewise,” Mrs. Figg said. “Your son is adorable.”

“Thank you,” Remus said. “He’s a bit of a handful, but I love every minute of it.”

And indeed, Teddy had found his way into Mrs. Smith’s kitting basket, which had tipped onto its side on the floor. He had shoved each hand into the center of two skeins of yarn, wearing them like mittens and waving them around over his head.

“Teddy! Ugh, I’m so sorry,” Remus said, moving to get up, but Mrs. Smith stopped him with a wave of her hand.

“He’s not hurting anything. He can play with it,” she laughed. “I love spirited children. Although maybe I’ll move my knitting needles so no one loses an eye.”

She swiftly plucked them off the floor and placed them onto a high shelf. As usual, Harry watched Teddy carefully, alternatively laughing and furrowing his little eyebrows uncertainly at his wild friend. Teddy waved his hands again, and one of the skeins of yarn flew off, sailing through the air and landing in Mrs. Smith’s African violet. Harry and Teddy dissolved into giggles, and this time, Remus did jump up, retrieving the yarn and quickly packing up the knitting basket.

“He doesn't need to terrorize your knitting, I brought him some toys,” Remus said, bending over to pull a little wooden train set out of his bag. Sirius was transfixed by the sight of him, but only for a moment. He realized he wasn’t the only one admiring Remus’s backside. He shook his head, laughing under his breath as he marveled once again at his neighbors’ brazenness.

Remus gave Teddy the trains, put the knitting basket onto a side table, and sat back down on the couch. Sirius held his breath a little, waiting for Remus to return a hand to his waist, but he didn’t.

“What is it that you do for work, Remus?” Mrs. Prewett asked, as Mrs. Smith handed them each a glass of wine.

“Thank you,” Remus said, before turning to Mrs. Prewett to answer her. “I’m a teacher, like Sirius.”

“How wonderful,” Mrs. Smith said. “What do you teach?”

“Maths,” Remus answered. “Advanced calculus to older students. Mostly ones who plan to study maths or science at university.”

“I didn’t know you taught calculus,” Sirius said without thinking, turning interestedly toward him.

“You didn’t?” Mrs. Bagshot asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow at them.

Sirius and Remus exchanged a look. But Remus just put his arm around Sirius again before answering, his fingers wrapping around his upper arm this time.

“Who wants to talk about work during the summer holidays?” Remus smiled. He gave Sirius an affectionate squeeze and pulled him closer, gazing at him adoringly. “Although, I think I could listen to him talk for hours about anything. He’s absolutely brilliant.”

He’s just pretending, Sirius reminded himself. He’s laying it on thick, just like he said. But he couldn’t help but give an honest reply as he returned Remus’s gaze.

“I feel the same way about him,” Sirius said.

“Isn’t that romantic!” Mrs. Smith gushed, pressing a hand to her heart. “And the babies get along well, too, I see.”

“They do,” Remus agreed.

They looked down at the floor, where Teddy was, in fact, babbling incoherently to Harry, holding up one of the wooden trains, as though trying to explain how steam power worked.

“How old is Teddy, Remus?” Mrs. Prewett asked.

“Fifteen months,” Remus answered.

“And he still hasn’t cut any teeth?” Mrs. Bagshot said.

“Actually, he just started cutting two bottom teeth,” Remus said. “I noticed last night.”

“Is he?” Sirius asked excitedly, forgetting for a moment that they were supposed to be acting like boyfriends. “Can I see?”

“Yeah,” Remus replied, just as excited. “You can barely see them, but…”

Remus scooped Teddy onto his lap and gently pulled his lower lip down to reveal two tiny white lines, just starting to poke out of his pink gums.

“No wonder he can’t stop drooling,” Sirius laughed at the little trail of spit that dribbled down Teddy’s chin. “Look at you, big boy! Aren’t you clever with your new teeth!”

“Pa!” Harry cried. He had crawled to Sirius’s feet and was reaching his pudgy little arms into the air, asking to be picked up, too.

“Inseparable, aren’t they?” Mrs. Figg said, her eyes looking between the two babies, while Sirius pulled Harry onto his lap. “How adorable.”

“They really are fascinated with each other,” Remus agreed, pulling Teddy’s finger out of Harry’s nostril.

“How do you find single parenthood?” Mrs. Bagshot asked, fixing Remus with a stern look. Sirius squirmed a little, knowing that Remus was being grilled. But Remus was calm and cool.

“I find it to be a challenge and a joy,” he said, looking back at Mrs. Bagshot steadily. “And even better with Sirius around.”

Sirius’s thudding heart betrayed him just then. Despite knowing that Remus was just saying what the ladies wanted to hear, Sirius sucked in a sharp little intake of breath, and he turned to look at him.

Remus met his eyes with a soft smile.   

“So much better,” Remus said quietly.

Soon, they’d moved to the dining room, where Mrs. Smith had set a beautiful table, complete with her wedding China and finest silver, plus two old-fashioned, carved wooden highchairs that she’d borrowed from neighbors.

Dinner was delicious, one of the best Sirius had ever had. Harry loved the Yorkshire pudding with gravy, which he’d never eaten before, and even tried the horseradish sauce, licking a tiny bit off a spoon. He pulled a terrible face and spit it out, letting it dribble down his chin before Sirius mopped it up with one of Mrs. Smith’s beautifully embroidered cloth napkins.

Teddy, on the other hand, adored the horseradish sauce and kept pointing at it and yelling for more, until finally, Remus scooped some into a little bowl for him to messily eat with a spoon.

All throughout dinner, Sirius and Remus regaled the table with stories from their playdates, finishing each other’s sentences as they laughed at the memories. By the time their plates were empty, even Mrs. Bagshot seemed won over.

“That seagull didn’t know who he was messing with,” Sirius said, telling them about the bird who tried to steal Teddy’s bananas.

“That bowl cost £14.99!” Remus said. “I wasn’t letting it go without a fight.”

“My word, it sounds like you two have been spending nearly every day together!” Mrs. Prewett said.

Remus and Sirius looked at each other, and for a moment, neither of them said anything.

“Yes, I suppose we have,” Sirius said finally.

“And I’ve loved every minute,” Remus added. His hand found Sirius’s under the table, and he twined their fingers together. For show, of course, Sirius reminded himself, yet again.

Except no one could actually see it this time but them.

Half hour later, Remus and Sirus had insisted on clearing the table for Mrs. Smith and were alone in the kitchen, getting ready for pudding.

“I can’t believe you made apple crumble,” Sirius said, watching Remus pull it out of the fridge. “I thought your culinary repertoire began and ended with sandwiches.”

“Listen, I needed to pull out all the stops to impress my fake boyfriend,” Remus replied.

“You didn’t burn the house down, did you?” Sirius asked. “Or lose a finger?”

“No, but it was a very near thing!” Remus laughed, and held a hand into the air. A plaster was wrapped around his index finger. “Apple-slicing injury.”

Like everything else with Remus, Sirius acted without thinking. He wrapped his fingers around Remus's wrist and brought the injured finger to his lips for a kiss, despite their audience being behind the kitchen door. Sirius’s cheeks warmed as he realized what he did, but if Remus minded or thought this was strange, he didn’t show it.

“Thank you,” Remus said softly, letting his fingertip press lightly against Sirius’s bottom lip for a moment before pulling away, sending a warm shiver across Sirius’s skin. “Feels better already.”

Remus started to close the refrigerator door, but Sirius stopped him.

“Wait, I brought something for you, too. Well, for everyone,” he corrected himself. He bent over and carefully pulled the trifle out of the fridge. “Behold, my not-a-pavlova. You’re right, they are a pain in the arse to make. Harry dropped a Mega Blok into the merengue, but other than that, I thought I followed the directions perfectly. But I ended up forgetting the nonstick paper, so it got stuck to the pan. I tried to pry it off with a spatula, but it didn’t work, so then my friend’s wife told me to try a butter knife, and I did, but then I think I pushed too hard, and the merengue broke, and…”

Sirius stopped his rambling at the expression on Remus’s face. His lips were parted and his eyes wide, as he looked between Sirius and the trifle bowl.

“You made that? It’s so beautiful,” Remus asked in an awe-struck voice. He reached out a hand and slowly ran the tip of one finger over the cold glass, tracing the delicate red and white layers of merengue, cream, and berries. “It’s like a piece of art.”

“I know it’s not a pavlova,” Sirius said, shaking his head, “but—”

“It’s better,” Remus blurted out, holding Sirius’s surprised gaze. “It’s so much better.”

Teddy, as it turned out, loved pavlova perhaps more than his father did. He savored each mouthful, closing his eyes with a sigh and saying, “Mmm” with every bite. Harry loved the apple crumble, too, with its sweet, soft fruit and crunchy, buttery topping.

“Sirius, your merengue is lighter than air!” Mrs. Prewett marveled. “Did you add anything special to it?”

“A Mega Blok,” Sirius said, and Remus choked on his port.

“This is wonderful, Remus!” Mrs. Smith said, taking a second helping of apple crumble. “What’s your secret?”

“Welsh butter,” Remus said, glancing at Sirius with a small smile. “I called an auntie for advice. I wanted to get it just right for this one.”

He leaned over and gave Sirius a peck on the cheek, making Sirius’s heart flutter foolishly. Stop acting like this is real, he chided himself.

“I think it’s just darling that you two made each other’s favorite pudding,” Mrs. Figg said. “So thoughtful. Not the kind of thing you see every day.”

Sirius nodded and smiled at Mrs. Figg, but Remus ran a reverent knuckle softly across Sirius’s cheekbone.

“I think we really like making each other happy,” he said. "I know I do." 

Not real, not real, not real, Sirius thought wildly, the desperate mantra ringing in his mind even as Remus's warm, spiced-honey eyes pulled him in deeper, threatening to drown him. 

Just then, Harry’s stomach gurgled and a wet, heavy farting sound cut through Perry Como’s crooning. Only a few seconds later, Sirius wrinkled his nose at the smell of whatever was happening in Harry’s diaper.

“Do you mind if I change him on the living room floor?” Sirius asked Mrs. Smith.

“Not at all, dear,” Mrs. Smith said, and Sirius rushed out of the room, holding Harry like the stinky little explosive that he was.

“Eeew!” Teddy cried as they left.

A few minutes later, Sirius was heading back to the dining room when he heard hushed voices coming from the kitchen. He kept walking, but froze in the shadowy hallway just outside the door when he heard his own name.

“…hope you understand, Remus. We didn’t mean to interrogate you,” Mrs. Bagshot’s voice floated into the hall. “But Sirius hasn’t had it easy this past year.”

“I’d expect nothing less, Mrs. Bagshot,” Remus replied. “I’m happy to be interrogated. Sirius deserves nothing but the best.”

“I’m glad you think so,” she said. “We all care about him very much. He feels a like a grandson to all of us.”

Sirius let out a soft, “oh” at her words. For all their meddling, maybe he did have the gran he’d always wished for. Lots of them.

“I understand,” Remus assured her. "I think it's very sweet, and I'm grateful that he has you."

“Just…just be careful with him,” Mrs. Bagshot implored. “Try not to hurt him, please?”

Remus was quiet for what felt like a very long time. Sirius stood there, frozen, holding his breath, waiting for Remus’s answer, fake though it might be.

“Mrs. Bagshot,” Remus said finally, his voice clear and steady. “I plan to cherish him for as long as he’ll let me.”

Chapter Text

Sirius and Harry were having breakfast in the kitchen on Wednesday morning when Sirius’s phone buzzed with a text that would have been odd had it come from anyone else.

Remus: I noticed a lovely, sloppy mud puddle in the playground near the slide. Want to let the boys get disgusting this afternoon?

Sirius propped his elbow onto Harry’s highchair tray and rested his chin on the heel of his hand as he smiled down at his phone. Never, in a million years, would it have occurred to him to not only allow Harry to get muddy, but to do so intentionally. Sirius’s own mother had once sacked his favorite nanny for bringing him and Regulus home with spots of ice cream on their faces.

“Did you let them walk through Knightsbridge like that?” she’d shrieked when they came through the parlor door. “They look like street urchins!”

Harry scooped a heaping spoonful of porridge into his mouth as Sirius looked up from his phone. He gummed most of it down, but a good-sized drop oozed out the corners of his lips and dribbled down his chin. Another bit that hadn’t made it into his mouth slid down the spoon onto his chubby fist, seeping between his fingers. Sirius laughed at the sight, and Harry laughed, too. There was joy in messes, Sirius thought. Big, bubbling, chaotic, joyful messes.

“What do you think, mate?” Sirius asked, brushing Harry’s black hair to one side. “Want to get nice and muddy today?”

Harry dropped his spoon onto the plastic tray and clapped his gluey hands together, smearing the porridge around even more, and Sirius couldn’t help himself. He kissed Harry’s messy little cheeks all over, eliciting even more giggles. He pulled away and held Harry’s face in his hands.

“I love you, kiddo,” Sirius said. Harry grabbed a fistful of Sirius’s hair with his porridge-covered fingers and pressed his open mouth to Sirius’s cheek for a kiss before picking up his spoon once more and continuing with his breakfast.

Sirius hadn’t seen Remus since Sunday night, but had been thinking about him constantly, especially his words to Mrs. Bagshot: “I plan to cherish him for as long as he’ll let me.”

In the moments after hearing him say that, Sirius had moved as though in a trance, somehow finding himself back in the dining room without really knowing how he got there. But when Remus emerged from the kitchen a few minutes later, his expression didn’t betray anything odd or strange. He and Mrs. Bagshot had merely rejoined the party at the dining room table while Mrs. Smith served coffee and tea. Remus sat down next to Sirius, slung an arm across the back of Sirius’s chair, and launched into a conversation with Mrs. Prewett about Teddy’s favorite foods.

“He loves anything spicy, it’s very odd,” Remus said. “I didn’t expect my 15-month-old to be stealing the wasabi off my sushi tray.”

Sirius watched Remus’s fingers as they traced around the rim of his coffee cup. He had another scar across his knuckles. Where did he get all these scars? “I plan to cherish him.” It had sounded so sincere, so heartfelt, like everything else he said. Could it have been genuine? Sirius allowed himself to wonder, but only for a moment. In an instant, he was scolding himself instead. Stop it. Stop it right now.

Of course, it wasn’t genuine. Of course, it meant nothing. Remus was just playing along, like he said he would. Saying what Mrs. Bagshot wanted to hear. This had been part of their agreement from the very beginning. Of course it was fake. “Cherish him?” It was so over the top. It was ridiculous! Who talks like that? And it was doubly ridiculous that anyone would want to “cherish” Sirius, anyhow. People cherished things that were precious, sweet, and darling, and Sirius was none of those things. He was messy, depraved, and “mouthy as fuck,” as he’d been told by a long list of hookups, not to mention his parents.

“Sirius? Sirius?”

“Hmm?” he asked, looking up and realizing that everyone’s eyes were on him.

“We wanted to know what Harry’s favorite food is,” Mrs. Prewett said, peering at him wonderingly from across the table.

“Oh, umm, strawberries,” Sirius answered. All the ladies smiled and cooed, but Remus frowned, ever so slightly.

“Speaking of strawberries,” Mrs. Prewett said, turning to Mrs. Smith, “I’ve been meaning to ask you. How do you get the orange flavor into your strawberry almond cake?”

The women started talking recipes, and Remus lifted his arm off the back of the chair. He wrapped it around Sirius’s shoulders, squeezing his arm and tilting his head to whisper in Sirius’s ear.

“Are you alright?” he asked, and Sirius had to repress a shiver as the words breathed across his neck.

Sirius looked at him. They were inches apart, yet again. Remus’s eyebrows were slightly furrowed, and a concerned look clouded his lovely honey-brown eyes.

“Fine,” Sirius nodded, his voice sounding oddly choked to his own ears.

“Are you sure?” Remus whispered. “Because I noticed this.”

Remus ran the side of his thumb softly and slowly across Sirius’s forehead.

“And this,” he continued, tracing between Sirius’s eyebrows and down the bridge of his nose. “Little worry lines.”

Sirius’s breath was trapped in his lungs, and his thigh muscles trembled as he tried to steady himself. His gaze flicked down to Remus’s lips and back up to his eyes, which were surveying him with a wondering, questioning look. They were close. So, so close.

“No, I’m…I’m fine, really,” Sirius insisted with a weak smile. “Just getting a bit tired, I guess.”

“Me too,” Remus whispered back. “I’ll say I need to leave. Blame it on Teddy. Babies are handy like that.”

Remus cocked an eyebrow slightly as he spoke, and he gave Sirius that slow half grin of his.

“You sure you’re good?” Remus asked again. He still had a hand on Sirius’s arm and was tracing absentminded little circles across his skin.

Sirius just nodded and imagined that if he ever was going to be cherished, it would feel exactly like this.

When they finally said goodbye, Sirius and Remus were both loaded up with boxes of leftovers packed into plastic Tesco carrier bags. Remus had Teddy strapped to his chest again and the diaper bag slung over one shoulder.

“Thank you for having us. Everything was delicious and the company was just wonderful,” Remus said in the doorway, as he received a round of hugs from all the ladies. They stooped to kiss Teddy’s cheeks and ruffle his curls, and Teddy waved his pudgy hand at them, even as his sleepy eyes began to droop shut. Remus put a pacifier into Teddy’s mouth. He immediately rested one little cheek against his father’s chest with a contented sigh.

“We loved having you,” Mrs. Smith said.

“My house next time!” Mrs. Figg said.

“Or mine!” Remus offered, and all the ladies tittered.

“Sirius, would you mind helping me with one more thing in the kitchen?” Mrs. Smith asked, and Sirius smiled to himself. He knew she just wanted to dish about Remus after he left.

“Of course,” Sirius replied, then turned to Remus. “Well, goodnight.”

Remus’s eyes flicked once to their audience, then back to Sirius, fixing him with a look so smoldering, it could have melted Mrs. Figg’s walker. He leaned forward, gave Sirius another tender kiss on the cheek, then straightened up and ran the tip of his index finger down the entire curve of Sirius’s jaw.

“Goodnight, beautiful,” Remus said.

And with one last small smile to the ladies, Remus turned and walked away into the corridor. The door clicked shut, and Sirius heard four collective exhales behind him.

“Goddamn, Sirius,” Mrs. Smith breathed. “How are you still upright?”

Now, Sirius had had three days to cool off from that encounter and remind himself—yet again and in no uncertain terms this time—that Remus was merely doing the thing that Sirius had asked him to do: Pretend to be his boyfriend in front of his neighbors. It’s not like Remus stroked his cheek or held his hand during their playdates. In fact, Remus was following the terms of their little deception much better than Sirius was, and it was wildly unfair for Sirius to be having any impure thoughts, considering Remus had entered into this agreement with the express understanding that real dating would not be happening.

The fact that he and Remus also got along swimmingly as friends was an added bonus that Sirius did not want to fuck up, and he was more determined than ever not to fall for his own con. That’s why he’d spent most of his free time since Sunday night conducting a kind of exposure therapy on himself, looking at photos of Remus on his phone from their day at the beach in an effort to become desensitized to Remus’s blistering hotness. It was going extremely well, and by Tuesday night, Sirius could look directly at Remus’s nipples for five whole seconds without breaking into a sweat.

That’s why Sirius was exceedingly confident on Wednesday morning. He took a sip of his coffee and typed out a reply.

Sirius: We’d love to! You name the time and place.

Remus: How about noon? I need to drop something off at my friend’s café first. Maybe we could have lunch together there and then get muddy after?

Sirius: Sure, where is it?

Remus: 7 Kings Rd. BTW, you’re not allergic to cats are you?

Sirius and Harry arrived at 7 Kings Road just before noon, waiting for Remus and Teddy outside a pretty little window-lined café with wrought iron furniture on the sidewalk. They didn’t have to wait long.

“Oi! Fuck! Not again with this fucking ribbon!”

Remus was walking slowly down the street, wearing Teddy on his chest, a backpack on his back, and carrying what looked like the outer ring of an enormous, woven bird’s nest in front of him. It was so big that he had to carry it from the middle, his arms completely outstretched to hold either side of the hoop. A long piece of gauzy, moss-green tulle tied to one side had blown completely across Remus’s face, flapping in the breeze around his head and neck. Remus paused on the sidewalk and shook his head, spinning in circles like some strange circus act until the ribbon fell away, then continued his slow slog toward Sirius.

“Hi,” Remus said finally, smiling at him through the middle of the hoop, which was woven out of twisted sticks and thin branches, with strands of ribbon, beach grass, and dried flowers braided throughout. The tulle was gathered and draped dramatically on one side. It was all very pretty, now that it was motionless and no longer had a cursing man trapped inside it.

“Is there a big top in your backpack?” Sirius asked.

“I do look like a traveling circus act, don’t I?” Remus acknowledged.

“Yeah, just a bit. What is that thing?”

“This monstrosity is an eternity hoop,” Remus said with a sigh, resting it on the pavements. He held it upright with one hand and surveyed it as he spoke. “My friend is getting married this weekend, and my mother made this for her ceremony. It’s some pagan thing, apparently.”

“Isn’t your mother in Majorca?” Sirius asked.

“That’s right, Sirius, my mother is in Majorca,” Remus said with more than a trace of sarcasm. “Which is why I’ve had this thing in my flat for a month. It scared the shit out of me for weeks every time I needed to take a piss in the night. I thought I was going to get sucked into another dimension. Of course, my friend said she couldn’t possibly keep it in her own flat. ‘It’s too big, Moony, where would I put it?’ I tried to get it into my van today but it wouldn’t fit. I still have no idea how my parents got it to me in the first place. They drive a Fiat.”

“You walked seven blocks with that thing?” Sirius laughed.

“Eight,” Remus corrected. “I took a wrong turn when the tulle blew into my eyes near the fire station. Anyway…”

Remus knocked on the café window, leaning forward and shielding his eyes to see inside. A shriek sounded, and Remus started laughing and waving as a small woman came bounding outside in a cloud of dark curls and the scent of coffee and bread. She wore a gauzy pink skirt that came down to her ankles, white trainers, and a white crop-top with the words “Barbie Girl” written in pink rhinestones across the front. She looked at the hoop from the café steps, squealed, and threw herself into Remus’s arms.

“Moony, it’s perfect, omigod!” she cried into his chest, before pulling away and staring reverently at the hoop. “I can’t believe your mum made this, it’s amazing! It’s gorgeous! It’s better than the one I saw on Pinterest!”

She walked all around it, running her hands over every ribbon and dried flower, until her eyes landed on Sirius. A little shadow of a smirk crossed her face, and she tilted her head sweetly toward Remus for a second before looking at Sirius again.

“Let me guess,” she said, pointing one perfectly manicured pink fingernail at him. “The fake boyfriend?”

Before Sirius could answer, Remus was replying. A little pink flush had dusted across his cheeks. He looked at Sirius.

“Yep, this is Mary MacDonald,” Remus told him. “Mary, this is—”

“Moony, don’t act like I don’t already know his name,” Mary said, shaking Sirius’s hand. “Hello, Sirius Black, it’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard all about you. And this must be Harry.”

She let go of Sirius’s hand and offered her finger to Harry, who grabbed it and giggled.

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” Sirius said, trying to catch Remus’s eye. But Remus was busying himself with Teddy’s sock, which Teddy had pulled off his foot and was trying to lay atop Remus’s head. “Congratulations on your wedding.”

“Ahh, thanks! Two more days!” Mary said.

“So Friday, then?” Sirius asked.

“Yes, Friday!” Mary nodded.

“Where are you getting married?”

“Right here at the café,” Mary told him. “In the back garden. Actually, Remus, I was hoping you could carry the hoop around back? We could all have lunch together outside, if you’re free?”

“Our plans included lunch and then a mud puddle, so yes,” Remus said. Mary shook her head at him, smiling fondly, before turning to Sirius again.

“He finally found someone willing get all mucky and messy with him,” she said. “What a relief. A fake match made in heaven.”

They tried to go inside, but it soon became clear that the hoop would not fit through the little café door. Instead, they walked around the back of the building down a narrow, cobbled alleyway lined with moss-covered walls on both sides. They emerged into a spacious, secret garden-type courtyard, complete with curlicue wrought-iron gates, a tinkling fountain, sprawling wildflower beds, and prettily crumbling brick walls.

“You can put the hoop right there, Moony. Just lean it up against the back gate,” Mary said, pointing to a spot at the end of a cobbled walkway near an heirloom rose garden. She spun around and started narrating what the space would look like on Friday.

“It’s going to be really small, just 50 people. But there’ll be chairs and an aisle over there, a bar over there, and a dance floor right there, plus fairy light everywhere. Passed hors d'oeuvres and desserts, nothing fancy. More like a cocktail party, really. I only care about the dancing! The DJ will set up on that balcony above the café. We own the whole building. My fiancé and I live upstairs,” she explained to Sirius. “She’s working now, otherwise she’d love to meet you, too.”

She led them over to a large, white, wrought-iron table and chairs with an elegant black umbrella offering shade from the midday sun.

“Do you want highchairs for Harry and Teddy?” Mary asked.

“I brought a blanket,” Remus said. “I thought they might like to pet the—”

“Kitty!” Harry cried, pointing to one cat, then two, then three that slunk out from under bushes and jumped off a nearby windowsill to see what the commotion was.

“We’re a cat café,” Mary told Sirius.

“The Cat’s Pajamas,” Remus said. “Isn’t that cute?”

“All rescues, all incredibly friendly,” Mary said, watching Teddy squirming and desperately reaching for the cats as he sought escape from his baby carrier.

Remus spread a thick, green fleece blanket on the ground while Mary went inside to get “a little bit of everything” for them for lunch, and it wasn’t long before Harry and Teddy were plopped onto the blanket surrounded by six purring cats, who seemed eager to sun themselves and get petted. Harry stroked the head of a sleepy tabby carefully with only the tips of his timid fingers, but Teddy had no such hesitation. He grabbed two fistfuls of fur on an alarmed-looking ginger cat and stared up at his father with pure, wild-eyed glee.

“Kitty!” he shrieked joyfully.

“Gentle, Teddy,” Remus said, prizing Teddy’s fingers open and demonstrating how to carefully pet the cat. “Nice and easy, see?”

“Ya!” Teddy yelled, imitating his father as best he could, but still landing his hand a bit eagerly atop the cat’s head with every stroke. The cat didn’t run away, though, and instead accepted its hard-loved fate.

Mary came back a few minutes later with a huge tray filled with finger sandwiches, miniature quiches, lemonade, and a plate of snappy Cornish fairings.

“Dig in, boys!” Mary said, as she settled into a chair next to Remus. Sirius didn’t think they could eat all this food, but they made a good try at it, even feeding the babies bits of quiche in between their usual fruit and steamed veggies from home.

“So how do you two know each other?” Sirius asked in between bites of his curried chickpea sandwich.

“Remus and I went to uni together,” Mary said. “And we got a flat here in Godric’s Hollow after we finished. We lived together almost five years.”

“Until she went and fell in love,” Remus said.

“And he went and knocked someone up,” Mary laughed. “How is the missus anyhow? How many visits with Teddy has she missed lately?”

“Knock it off, Mary,” Remus said.

“Sorry if I don’t love that she’s holding you emotionally hostage while she drags her fucking feet on signing those divorce papers,” Mary said. “Especially since you do everything for everyone, including her. But yes, we can talk about something else. Sirius, you’re a teacher too, right? History?”

“That’s right,” Sirius replied. Wow, Mary really had heard all about him. And her hot take on Remus’s ex-wife was interesting, to say the least.

“Do you like teaching as much as he does?” she asked, nodding over at Remus.

“Yeah, I love teaching,” Sirius said. “I love the subject, but mostly I love the kids. I think they’re funny. And I like changing their minds and getting them interested about something they might have thought was boring before they came into my classroom.”

“You sound like Remus,” Mary said with a little smile, her eyes darting between them as they looked at each other. “He also gets abnormally excited whenever he can convert another nerd.”

“I like watching the lightbulb go off in their heads,” Sirius said. “You can see it happen. Like, all of a sudden they get it.”

“Yes!” Remus said, nodding and leaning forward, putting his fork down in emphasis. “You can see the exact moment when something clicks in their brain. It’s amazing.”

“I know! Especially when they’ve been struggling!” Sirius agreed. “I ride that high for days.”

“Me too! I’m always so proud of them, I could cry. I have cried,” Remus laughed.

“So have I!” Sirius said. “I had this one girl last year who struggled so much with the concept of the Restoration. We worked on it for weeks! She stayed after school with me and everything. And then, one day, it just made sense to her, and suddenly she’s explaining the Venner Rebellion to her classmates.”

“Amazing,” Remus said, shaking his head.

“Wow,” Mary said, looking between them. “The two hottest nerds in England have found each other, and now I get to have lunch with them. Lucky me.”

“Sorry, I know I can get carried away,” Sirius laughed.

“Oh my god, please don’t apologize, it’s adorable!” Mary said. “If only every teacher was as wonderful as the two of you are. Now, I have another question for you, Sirius.”

“Sure.”

“Is Remus a good fake boyfriend?”

A flush crept across Sirius’s neck as he and Remus smiled a bit shyly at each other across the table.

“The best,” Sirius said, looking back at Mary.

“Oh?” Mary asked coyly.

“Yeah,” Sirius said, and he really meant it. “He can charm elderly women, intimidate seagulls, and he makes a hell of an apple crumble.”

“He’s a bloody good shag, too, from what I heard through the bedroom wall for five years,” Mary said, taking a casual bite of quiche.

“Fuck, Mary, really?” Remus coughed, choking on his lemonade.

“What?” Mary howled. “I’m your best friend. Can’t I sing your praises?”

“Umm, no, I don’t think you can, actually, I don’t trust you,” Remus said, but Mary ignored him and started talking to Sirius again.

“Suffice it to say, there were lots of very satisfied customers doing the early morning walk of shame out of our flat,” Mary said.

“Mary!”

“And one bloke claimed to see the face of god, but there may have been poppers involved in that encounter.”

“No, there absolutely were not!” Remus countered. “That one was all me, no chemical help. I met him at the fucking farmers market. But it doesn’t matter because we are moving the fuck on.”

“Right, you’ve adopted a monastic lifestyle,” Mary said. “What would you like to talk about instead, Brother Remus?”

Sirius laughed again.

“You remind me of my friend, Marlene,” Sirius told her. “She’s really funny, too. You’d love her.”

“We’ll all have to get together sometime,” Mary said. “But in the meantime, did you know that I gave my best friend on earth a plus-one to my wedding, and he’s coming alone?”

“I didn’t have anyone to bring,” Remus said. “Remember? Monastic lifestyle? All my friends will be there, anyhow. I don’t need a date.”

“Well, not all of your friends,” Mary said, tilting her head innocently and looking at Sirius. “Any chance you’re free Friday night?”

It took Sirius a second to understand what she was getting at.

“You mean, come to your wedding?” he asked.

“Why not? I already paid the caterer for Remus’s non-existent plus-one in case he changed his mind at the last minute,” Mary said. “Besides, have you two ever hung out without the babies?”

Sirius and Remus just looked at each other but didn’t say anything.

“I didn’t think so,” Mary said after a beat. “I reckon you could both use a night off.”

“Mary, are you sure you want a total stranger at your wedding?” Sirius asked, but Mary scoffed.

“Please, you’re not a stranger. I feel like I know you already,” Mary said. “But wait, I’ll do it the right way.”

She jumped up from her chair and ran inside, her pink skirt swishing around her ankles as she went.

“Is she serious?” Sirius asked Remus, leaning toward him across the table. “She’s not just being polite?”

“Oh, she’s totally serious,” Remus said. “I can tell by the crazy look in her eye. Don’t feel obligated to come…but it should be really fun. Mary and Amelia throw great parties. And Mary’s been planning her wedding since she was about 6 years old.”

“I wouldn’t be, like, cramping your style or anything?”

“No!” Remus answered quickly, then cleared his throat. “I’d…I’d love to have you there.”

“Alright, let me text Marlene and see if she can watch Harry,” Sirius said. He typed out a text, and she replied almost as soon as he hit send.

Marlene: YES GET IT PADFOOT

Sirius: It’s just as friends!!!

Marlene: Whatever gets you through the night babe.

Mary returned to the table with an enormous pink feather pen, an envelope, and a small, square piece of cardstock. She put it down on the table, and Sirius realized it was one of her wedding invitations.

“To Sirius Black,” she said, as she wrote on the envelope, then looked up, trying to suppress a smile. “Would you like a plus-one?”

“Um, I think I’m all set,” he replied, glancing sideways at Remus who laughed under his breath and rolled his eyes.

“Right,” she continued. “And do you have any dietary restrictions?”

“Nope.”

“Good,” she said, slipping the invitation into the envelope and handing it to him across the table along with the feather pen. “The RSVP date has already passed, by the way, so I’ll need your reply post haste.”

“Oh, alright,” Sirius said. He pulled out the RVSP card, checked “yes,” and handed it back to her.

She gasped when she read it, then put her hands over her heart, her eyes sparkling with faux surprise.

“You can come!” she cried.

“Are you sure you want me there?” Sirius asked again.

“Sirius, you got a hand-delivered invitation from one of the brides,” Mary reminded him. “If you’re not there, I will take personal offense.”

“Well, how can I say no to that?” Sirius replied.

An hour later, they’d said their goodbyes to Mary and had arrived at the playground where there was, indeed, a lovely, sloppy mud puddle near the slide.

“So, how does this work?” Sirius asked, holding Harry on his hip and eyeing the mud warily. Now that he was faced with it, the mud looked awfully…well, muddy. “Do we strip them down to their nappies and plop them in the middle of it?”

“No!” Remus laughed. “I mean, you can if you want to. But I usually just put Teddy down in the grass and let him explore.”

“Oh,” Sirius said. Alright. That didn’t sound so bad. They put the babies down and let them crawl around. Teddy, to Sirius’s surprise, had no interest in the mud whatsoever. Instead he found a ladybug and let out a delighted shriek as it crawled onto his hand.

“Pa!” he said, trying to get Sirius’s attention. Sirius crouched down next to him and held Teddy’s wrist between two of his fingers, lifting it up gingerly so they could both watch it crawl across his palm.

“Wow, Teddy, that’s cool!” Sirius said. Teddy was uncharacteristically quiet and still as he tracked the ladybug’s progress, watching each little movement of its legs carefully.

“Wow,” Teddy repeated in a reverent whisper.

“Oh my god, Sirius, look!” Remus cried.

Sirius spun around just in time to watch Harry, who’d pulled himself to standing against a tree stump. Harry hesitated for a moment, then took one, two, three steps right toward the mud. He walked like a bowlegged drunkard on slippery ice, and seemed to catch himself by surprise at how far he’d gotten on his new feet. He looked around, bewildered, searching for Sirius, just as his knees started to buckle underneath him. Sirius started to move, but Remus was closer. He jumped up and leapt across the grass, catching Harry just before he tumbled face first into the mud puddle.

Remus himself wasn’t so lucky, though. He skidded on his heels in the slippery mud, falling backwards onto his arse with a messy splat, managing all the while to keep Harry held high in the air over his head. Sirius scooped up Teddy and rushed over to them as Remus tried to situate Harry onto the grass. Sirius put Teddy down next to Harry and looked at Remus, who was sprawled at Sirius's feet and nearly covered in mud from the waist down.

“Are you alright?” Sirius laughed, trying for sympathy but instead delivering disgusted glee.

“Actually, I think I’m stuck. And I might have sprained something,” Remus said, wincing.

“Oh, no, really?” Sirius said, leaning down with an outstretched hand out to help Remus stand.

“No, not really, sucker,” Remus replied, grabbing Sirius’s hand and yanking him down, too. Sirius stumbled and slipped, landing on his knees with a wet, cold squelch right into the mud, and falling forward across the top of Remus’s legs.

“Eeew!” Teddy cried, as mud splashed up at him and Harry.

Sirius pushed himself upright with the heel of his hand, slipped, and fell again. They were laughing so hard they could barely speak.

“This is disgusting!” Sirius wheezed, looking down at himself, then at Remus. They laughed until tears streamed down their cheeks, leaving clean streaks across their muddy faces.

“But Harry,” Remus reminded Sirius finally, catching his breath. He tried to wipe the mud off of his forehead with the back of his wrist, but only smeared it around more. “Were those his first steps?”

Sirius gasped with the realization.

“Yeah, they were actually,” Sirius said quietly, half to Remus, half to himself.

He turned around and looked at Harry, who was picking up careful scoops of mud and squeezing it in his hands, laughing at the way it squished and squelched between his fingers. Harry looked up at Sirius with wide-eyed amazement, showing him his hands and giggling with glee. He slopped the mud back down into the puddle with a splash, then picked up some more.

Sirius watched him, and his eyes prickled with unexpected tears. Harry was so happy. Healthy. Carefree and loved. He had bright green eyes, just like Lily’s, and a skepticism that was hers, too. But his affinity for hugs and snuggles was all James, and so was his wide, easy smile and big belly laughs.

“Wow!” Harry said, his newest word, picked up from Teddy. He showed the mud to Remus this time, offering some to share. That was all James, too. James would have given the shirt off his back to anyone who needed it.

Remus put out his own muddy hand and accepted Harry’s fistful of mud with an amazed smile.

“Thank you, Harry!” he said, then showed it Teddy. “Would you like some too, Teddy?”

“No,” Teddy said, shaking his head and wrinkling his nose. Apparently they’d finally found Teddy’s limit.

“Would you like some, Sirius?” Remus asked, turning to Sirius instead. They stared at each other for a few seconds, and then burst out laughing again at the sight of the other one. They were both covered in mud, both flat on their arses on the wet, dirty ground. They were both a mess.

Maybe they were both in over their heads a little, too, right then and always. Maybe they were both struggling through mud all the time; struggling through sleepless nights and dirty diapers, sore backs, and exhaustion and grief. Maybe they were always a bit messy, always slipping, always falling, never perfect, no matter how hard they tried.

Maybe all of that was true. But they were also happy, Sirius realized with a jolt of something strong and powerful that surged through his chest. He was happy. He couldn't believe it. He was happy, and so was Harry, who all this was for. And what a surprise it was, to find happiness in all of that mess.

Sirius looked down at Remus’s outstretched palm and then up at his face. It was streaked with drying mud, but bright and laughing and so, so beautiful.

Sirius reached out his own hand and had to swallow down his joy, lest it overwhelm him.

“I would love some,” he said.

Chapter Text

“Your babysitting squad has arrived!”

“I didn’t realize I was getting an entire squad,” Sirius said, stepping aside to let Marlene, Dorcas, and Pete into his flat on Friday evening. “Are you moving in?”

“We need to be prepared for anything,” Marlene said.

“You’re minding a baby, not the nuclear codes,” Sirius replied.

Harry was on his hip and looking comically small and benign next to his three friends and their apocalypse prep kits. They were each carrying what looked like enough supplies for a week-long odyssey: Sleeping bags, pillows, blankets, overnight bags, board games, and snacks. Dorcas even had a small, pink rolling suitcase.

“My skincare routine is non-negotiable,” Dorcas said when Sirius gave the suitcase a questioning look. “I didn’t get this face by accident.”

“My modest wife, ladies and gentlemen,” Marlene said.

“What makes you think you’re staying overnight? It’s just a wedding,” Sirius asked.

“Planning ahead? Wishful thinking?” Marlene said, pinching Sirius’s cheek as she struggled past him through the narrow hallway, nearly knocking a lamp off the entryway table with the corner of an enormous, king-sized pillow. “We want you to feel free to be spontaneous. You said Teddy’s mum was taking him overnight. You never know where the evening may lead.”

“If it leads back to Remus’s bed, you can rest assured you’ll have three responsible caregivers ready and willing to go the distance in the name of making sure you get dicked down,” Dorcas told him.  

Sirius looked at Harry, who was sucking a pacifier and eying the clicking beads at the ends of Dorcas’s swinging braids with a covetous look in his eye. Yep, those would be getting pulled later.

“That’s weirdly kind of you, but it will not be necessary,” Sirius said. “He has no interest in me.”

“So are you finally admitting that you have an interest in him?” Marlene gasped.

“You’re all impossible,” Sirius said.

“That wasn’t a no,” Pete muttered to Dorcas.

“And you!” Sirius said, pointing accusingly at Pete. “What are you doing here?”

“Diaper duty,” Pete said, dropping his bags on the floor and plopping onto the couch.

“You know I’m afraid of penises,” Marlene said in explanation.

“He’s 14 months old!” Sirius reminded her.

“I don’t care! I’ve made it 28 years without seeing one!”

“Why can’t Dorcas—” Sirius started.

“—I don’t fuck with excrement,” Dorcus cut him off with a hand in the air.

Pete just shrugged and leaned back against the couch with his arms folded behind his head.

“See?” Pete said. “Diaper duty.”

Marlene and Dorcas sat down next to him and looked up at Sirius expectantly.

“Go! Get ready!” Marlene said. “We’ll take Harry.”

Marlene reached for Harry, and Harry reached back.

“He’s trying to walk a little bit now, so keep a really close eye on him,” Sirius said, putting Harry into Marlene’s open arms. “And he crawls faster than you’d expect, so don’t let him—”

“Go!” Marlene said again. “We’ll be fine! Your Prince Charming will be here in 40 minutes, you better hurry up.”

Harry sat on Marlene’s knee and looked appraisingly between his three babysitters, then back up at Sirius. He already seemed unimpressed.

“So,” Dorcas said to Harry. “What are your thoughts on the legal aid provisions in the Illegal Migration Act?”

“Wow!” Harry replied.

Thirty-five minutes later, Sirius was wearing a trimly tailored, navy suit and a light smudge of black eyeliner, which he hadn’t worn in…well, it had been a while. He felt like he was being visited by the ghost of his past life as he leaned over the bathroom counter toward the mirror to put it on and wondered vaguely whether eyeliner had an expiration date.

When he finished, Sirius looked at himself in the mirror—really looked—for the first time in what felt like a while. His black hair was cut short; shorter than it had been since childhood, when his mother insisted that he and Regulus look trim and neat at all times. Growing his hair past his shoulders had been one of Sirius’s earliest rebellions, and that, along with his tattoos, leather jacket, and silver rings became his signature look. All of that, plus a messy smudge of eyeliner and the shadow of a dark beard made him the polar opposite of the Black family ideal and nearly irresistible to whoever caught his fancy.

But after getting Harry, Sirius soon learned that all of that was far too much work. Rings got caught on onesies. Long hair was a pain in the arse and was forever being pulled by little hands. Leather wasn’t very breathable, and Sirius was suddenly a lot sweatier than usual. And eyeliner? Why bother? So, he kept his hair short, his face cleanshaven, and his clothing simple. It was boring but also a bit of a relief. Much less to think about and fuss over when he was already impossibly busy and overwhelmed.

But tonight was different, and he had to admit, the overall effect was pretty good. He’d mussed up his hair a little with some pomade and left a few days’ worth of dark stubble across his face. The eyeliner was a last-minute addition—a choice made quickly, before Sirius could change his mind—and his stomach squirmed as he wondered what Remus would think of it.

“Damn, Pads, you look hot!” Marlene said as he emerged from the bathroom.

“Yeah?” Sirius asked, rubbing the back of his neck, uncharacteristically unsure of himself.

“Yeah,” Pete agreed. “Wicked.”

“Thanks,” Sirius said. “I’m really fucking nervous for some reason.”

“I wonder what that reason could be,” Marlene said, and Sirius rolled his eyes.

“I just mean I haven’t gone out in a while,” Sirius said. “It’s been…well, you know how long it’s been.”

Three hundred sixty-two days. It had been 362 days.

They all nodded, looking at each other from underneath sad eyelids, because there were two people missing from their little tribe, and they all knew it, even if they didn’t talk about it much. Sirius scooped Harry off of Marlene’s lap and gave him a big hug and kiss on the cheek. Harry reached out a little hand, running his fingers over Sirius’s scratchy chin, and giggled.

Marlene stood up and wrapped Sirius and Harry into a hug.

“I want you to relax and have a good time tonight,” she said quietly. “You deserve it.”

“Thanks,” Sirius said. Marlene really was a calming presence.

Until the flat’s doorbell buzzed.

“He’s here!” Marlene shrieked into Sirius’s ear, releasing him from their tender moment and leaping across the flat before Sirius could stop her.

“Come on up, handsome!” Marlene sang into the intercom, buzzing Remus upstairs.

“I’ll be killing you later,” Sirius said, handing Harry back to her.

“I look forward to dying a martyr,” she replied.

Sirius turned to face his friends, who were suddenly standing shoulder-to-shoulder in a disconcerting-looking row across the middle of the living room and watching the door eagerly. Harry was on Marlene’s hip, and even he was staring at the door in heavy anticipation.

“Guys, I implore you,” Sirius begged, pressing his palms together. “Please, please be fucking normal.”

“We’re always normal!” Marlene insisted, her face solemn and almost trustworthy until there was a knock at the door. She lifted Harry up toward the ceiling and yelled, “Simba! It is time!”

Harry giggled uncontrollably and a little strand of drool dripped slowly from his mouth.

“Ugh, the bodily fluids are starting already, huh, kid?” Marlene said, snapping her fingers at Pete, who pulled a burp cloth off his shoulder and wiped Harry’s chin.

Sirius gave them one last laughing look before walking to the door. He put his hand on the knob, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

“Hi, Si—Oh, wow, holy shit, hi,” Remus stammered, looking Sirius up and down and running a hand through his hair. “You look…wow.”

Remus swallowed hard and nodded, then cleared his throat.

“Yeah, you look…you look really good,” Remus finished.

“Thanks, so do you,” Sirius said, and fuck, did he. Remus wore a sinfully tailored tan linen suit, a white dress shirt with the first two buttons undone, and loafers with no socks. A pair of sunglasses hung from the pocket of his suit jacket. He looked like he had made some attempt to tame his hair, but it only ended up even more tousled, sort of how it looked that morning after he’d just woken up at the beach cottage. Sirius had to shove his hand into his trouser pocket and pinch his own thigh to stop himself from imagining those golden curls spilling across his pillow.

They looked at each other for a few seconds longer, seemingly frozen in the open doorway, until Sirius heard Harry behind him.

“Da!” Harry cried, and Sirius turned around in time to see him wave at Remus. Sirius knew Harry was just imitating Teddy, but still. Every time Harry called Remus “Da,” Sirius felt a little bit of his soul float up into the clouds.

“Hi, Harry,” Remus said, giving Harry a bright, glowing smile and waving back.

They stood for another moment in the open doorway. Remus was just so…and his hands were…and his hair…and his fucking eyes. Good god.

“Don’t make the poor bloke stand in the hallway,” Marlene said. “He could get accosted by an old lady any minute!”

“Sorry, right, come on in,” Sirius said, gesturing Remus inside. “Everyone, this is Remus Lupin. Remus, these are my friends, Pete, Marlene, and Dorcas.”

“Hi there, it’s nice to meet you all,” Remus said.

“It’s great to meet you, Remus,” Marlene said. “I can’t believe we’re finally seeing you in the flesh. You’ve loomed so large in Sirius’s life for the past month.”

“I suppose he’s loomed large in mine, too,” Remus replied, giving Sirius a shy smile.

“Yeah, even my fake boyfriend thinks I’m a lot of work,” Sirius laughed, but Remus shook his head quickly and grabbed Sirius by wrist, his fingers closing around it.  

“No,” he said, staring at Sirius, his eyes wide. “That’s not what I meant at all.”

He spoke with such vehemence that it made Sirius stop short.

“It’s not?” Sirius asked, staring back.

“No, I just…” Remus replied and paused. His lips were slightly parted, and he tongue flicked out over them, leaving a little shine over the pretty pink. He seemed to be searching for the right words. “I just meant I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you.”

“Oh,” Sirius breathed, feeling time around him slow to a stop. Remus looked so sweet and sincere, a little blush creeping across his cheeks as he let go of his wrist. Sirius didn’t know what to make of it.

“Makes sense to me,” Marlene said, throwing an arm over Sirius’s shoulder and gazing up at him. “Our Sirius is a gem.”  

“He really is,” Remus agreed. He and Sirius looked at each other again, and like before, Sirius had to almost shake himself back to reality.

“Well, we must be off,” Sirius said finally. He leaned over to kiss Harry on the cheek and tried to walk away, but made it only a few steps before he was rushing back and scooping Harry out of Marlene’s arms.

“I love you,” Sirius whispered to Harry, hugging him close. “I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

“Pa,” Harry replied, leaning his forehead against Sirius’s cheek. Sirius gave Harry one more kiss and finally handed him back to Marlene.

“Alright, leaving for real this time,” Sirius said resolutely.

“Have fun! We’ll be fine,” Marlene said, walking them to the door. “Oh, and Remus?”

“Yeah?” Remus asked, turning to Marlene as they stepped into the corridor.

“We’re staying overnight with Harry,” she told him. “Here. At Sirius’s flat.”

Remus nodded and gave Marlene a puzzled look.

“OK,” he said.

“All night. Until tomorrow morning,” she added. “Just thought you ought to know.”

“Thanks?” Remus replied, confused.

“OK!” Marlene chirped. “Goodnight!”

And she shut the door behind them, but not before whispering to Sirius, “What an arse on him!”

“Your friends are nice,” Remus said as they entered the lift.

“Nice is one word for it,” Sirius replied, deciding to forgive Marlene for her outlandishly unsubtle hints.

A minute later, the lift slowed to a halt and Sirius remembered something.

“Oh shit,” he said. “I forgot. You’re gonna have to run the old-lady gauntlet with me tonight. Sorry.”

“I’m not worried,” Remus said easily, slipping his hand into Sirius’s as the lift doors slid open and a dozen gray-haired heads swiveled toward them. Remus’s large hand felt warm and strong as they stepped into the lobby together.

“Don’t you two make a dashing pair?” Mrs. Smith said, beaming at them. “Have a wonderful time at the wedding.”

Huh, Sirius thought. He hadn’t told Mrs. Smith about the wedding. Had she elevated her stalking to a new level? But Remus just smiled at her.

“Thank you,” Remus replied. “It was nice to see you again. I’m so glad we got a chance to chat.”

“So am I,” Mrs. Smith said. “You’ll have to let me know if you try that teething gel.”

“I definitely will, thank you,” Remus said. “Bye!”

“Goodnight, boys. Hope to see you soon, Remus!” Mrs. Smith waved after them as they stepped out into the warm August night.

“You already chatted to her?” Sirius asked, amazed.

“Yeah, a bit before I came upstairs. I like her a lot, actually. She’s really funny,” Remus said, and Sirius felt his heart melt, yet again.

They rounded the corner, heading away from the building, but to Sirius’s surprise, Remus didn’t let go of his hand. Instead, he just launched into conversation, as though he had forgotten that they were still holding hands. Yes, he must have forgotten, Sirius thought.

“Thanks for coming tonight,” Remus said. “I didn’t really fancy going alone.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I’m excited,” Sirius told him. “I haven’t had a night out in about a year.”

“A year? Really?” Remus started, then stopped himself, realizing why Sirius hadn’t been out in so long. His face flushed, and he shook his head apologetically. “Shit, of course. I’m so sorry, Sirius.”

“It’s alright,” Sirius said. He looked down at his shoes as they walked. He hesitated for a moment before continuing to speak, but as always with Remus, he found the truth pouring out of himself anyhow, simple and unadorned. “The anniversary’s coming up in a few days, and I’m…well, I’m really fucking dreading it, to be honest.”

“I don’t blame you,” Remus said. He tightened his grip on Sirius’s hand and ran his thumb softly back and forth across the knuckles. It was indescribably comforting. “Do you…have anything special planned?”

“Yeah. Me and my friends are going to spend the day together, look at old pictures and videos, visit the cemetery, have dinner.”

“That sounds really nice.”

“I just want to try to remember them as best we can,” Sirius said, and his thoughts wandered to Harry, who wouldn’t remember them at all.

“You OK with leaving Harry tonight?” Remus asked, as though reading Sirius’s mind.

“Yeah, I am, actually. I needed to get out. Badly,” Sirius said. “But I am kind of nervous. No one has ever had him overnight before. Not that I’m staying out all night.”

Sirius added this last part quickly. But if Remus thought it was strange, he didn’t say anything.

“Same with Teddy,” Remus said. “We’ll have to stop each other from worrying.”

Sirius looked at him curiously.

“What do you mean, ‘Same with Teddy’?”

“I mean Teddy’s never stayed overnight with anyone else, either.”

“Not even his mum?”

“Nope,” Remus sighed, and Sirius thought he heard the tiniest trace of bitterness in his voice. Or maybe it was just exhaustion. “It’s not for her lack of trying, though, I guess. She’s attempted two overnight visits. Both ended with middle-of-the-night calls to me with some imagined emergency.”

“Holy shit,” Sirius said.

“Yeah,” Remus replied. “Who knows, maybe the third time’s the charm.”

Remus smiled and shrugged. Sirius got the feeling that he wanted to say more, but was holding himself back.

“Shit, I didn’t even fucking ask you if you minded walking there tonight,” Remus said suddenly. “I’m sorry! I feel like an arse.”

“No, I like walking,” Sirius assured him. In fact, he could think of nothing nicer than walking down the street chatting with Remus and holding his hand. Well, he could think of a few nicer things. Grabbing Remus by the collar, dragging him into an alleyway, and getting fucked within an inch of his life, for one.

But who needs specifics?

“Are you sure your shoes are comfortable enough to walk 10 blocks?” Remus asked again, giving Sirius that sweet, wondering head tilt of his. Fuck, he was thoughtful.

“Positive,” Sirius said. “I plan on dancing all night. Do you really think I’d wear uncomfortable shoes?”

“All night, huh?” Remus asked with a little smile. “Save me a few?”

“More than a few,” Sirius replied, his heart fluttering in his stomach.

“Good thing your no-dating rule is in effect,” Remus said. “Otherwise you’d get whisked away from me fast.”

“Actually, my no-dating rule expires in a few days,” Sirius reminded him, trying to tamp down the hopefulness in his voice. He wanted to tell Remus that no one could whisk him away under any circumstance, that he’d dance every dance with him all night, no matter who else showed up, but he kept silent. He was already skirting dangerously close to the boundary that they’d agreed on when they started this whole charade.

Remus kept silent, too, for a long moment. When Sirius looked at him, he was frowning slightly and staring, unseeing, at some far-off spot in the distance.

“Right,” Remus nodded quietly, talking almost to himself. “You said a year.”

Remus’s grip on Sirius’s hand tightened for just a moment, and then, suddenly, he let go. Instead, Remus put his hands in his pockets, and they kept walking.

Sirius mourned the loss of touch, but forced himself not to think about it too much. If he did, he’d worry that Remus had sensed Sirius’s feelings creeping into the nonplatonic realm.

Instead, they just talked, and as always, it was wonderful. Sirius thought they’d retreat into the familiar topic of kids while they were alone, but was pleasantly surprised to find that they talked about everything but kids. Sirius learned that Remus’s favorite film was 28 Days Later and that he had a penchant for punky girl groups like The Breeders and Elastica. He learned that Remus got arrested in 2012 with his mother and aunts, who dragged him to a “Witches Against Capitalism” protest at Marble Arch.

“I do hate capitalism,” Remus said. “But I also asked them to make a note in the police report that I wasn’t actually a witch and only a supportive onlooker.”

“You really will do anything for anyone, won’t you?” Sirius laughed, imagining a 19-year-old Remus being dragged away in handcuffs with his mother’s coven.

“It’s a character flaw,” Remus said. “I’m working on it.”

Sirius told Remus about his motorbike and the feeling of freedom that raced through his veins like quicksilver when he flew, fast and reckless, down the motorway at night, and about Luc, the first boy who broke his heart, who he met during a gap year living in Paris with his Uncle Alphard.

“He taught me how to roll cigarettes and give blowjobs, though, so for that I thank him,” Sirius said fondly.

“Mine was a bloke named Lars,” Remus said, his voice sounding misty and warm. “He was a real piece of shit, but to this day, he’s the best-looking man I’ve ever laid eyes on. Well, he was until about a month ago.”

When Sirius looked at him questioningly, Remus burst out laughing and elbowed Sirius in the ribs as they walked.

“I’m talking about you, you daft fool,” Remus said. “You dethroned Lars pretty handily, Sirius.”

“Really?” Sirius asked, his eyes finding Remus’s. Their flecks of gold and green caught the setting sunlight like tiny jewels, and Sirius couldn’t look away. They were so beautiful. 

“Really,” Remus nodded. “No contest. And you’re not a piece of shit, either, which is an even bigger bonus.”

“’Not a piece of shit,’” Sirius repeated. “I’ve finally found an appropriate epitaph.”

“Only the highest praise for you,” Remus said, then reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

“Ugh, she’s texting me already,” he said, looking down at it. “Teddy’s mum. Wants to know if it’s normal that he’s drooling so much.”

“Didn't she notice the new teeth in his mouth?” Sirius asked, watching Remus’s exasperation as he typed out a reply.

“Doubt it,” he sighed.

They arrived at Mary’s café and joined the crowd of people in the garden. Remus introduced Sirius to his friends as they waited for the ceremony to begin: A tall bloke called Kingsley and his partner, Benjy; a broad-shouldered man named Doc and his wife Hestia; a kind-faced couple named Frank and Alice. They all greeted Remus with hugs and kisses, and every last one of them had heard about Sirius, which kept catching him by surprise. Mary had probably warned them all about the interloper who would be joining the wedding festivities.

They were just about to find seats when a pompous-sounding voice spoke behind them.

“Wow,” the voice said. “Mary wasn’t kidding. You are gorgeous.”

They turned around and Remus groaned. A sleekly handsome man with swooping blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a blindingly white smile approached them.

“Amelia’s cousin,” Remus whispered in Sirius’s ear. “And a total douche.”

He strutted toward them and thrust a hand toward Sirius.

“Sirius, right? Gilderoy Lockhart,” he said. “So glad that we found each other tonight.”

“Not sure what you mean by that,” Sirius said, eyeing Gilderoy’s hand warily before shaking it.

“People like us need to stick together,” Gilderoy said, leaning forward conspiratorially. He frowned around at the gathered crowd as though it offered some explanation.

“Still not following, mate,” Sirius said, even though he knew perfectly well what Gilderoy was getting at.

“I just think a man like you needs someone who’s up to your caliber,” Gilderoy said, finally dropping the pretense. “I’d love to get to know you after the ceremony.”

“I already have a man who’s up to my caliber,” Sirius told him. Without missing a beat, Remus slid his arm around Sirius’s waist, hooking a possessive finger into his beltloop and pulling the sides of their hips flush. “In fact, it’s more the other way round. I’m trying to live up to his caliber.”

“But you two aren’t really dating,” Gilderoy scoffed. “Amelia told me—”

“Amelia was mistaken,” Remus said in a low voice, and Sirius felt a flush of prickling heat lick across his skin. He sank further into Remus without even thinking, leaning heavily against the length of his body and slinging an arm around his shoulders.

“Shall we find seats, darling?” Remus asked Sirius, looking at him as though he was the only person on earth. Their faces were inches apart, and Sirius’s breath hitched despite himself.

“Yeah,” Sirius choked out with a nod. He was still pressed up against Remus, who was looking at Gilderoy again with a stony expression.  

“Why are you still here?” Remus asked him. Gilderoy silently gaped at them with an annoyed expression, but came back to his senses.

“Good question,” Gilderoy grumbled and stomped off. Sirius felt Remus’s fingers curl inward, pressing into his skin.

“I fucking hate that guy,” Remus said. “Amelia only invited him because her mother insisted. He has a reputation for taking advantage of the fragile and innocent.”

“Luckily, I’m neither,” Sirius said, watching him go. Sirius was six feet tall and hadn’t been innocent since he was 15.

“Me either,” Remus replied, tilting his head and gazing sideways toward Sirius. “Quite a fake match we make.”

They looked at each other, standing there in the middle of the garden. They were surrounded by people, some even brushing against them as they walked past, but neither seemed to notice. Their bodies were still wound together, and the world seemed to quiet all around them. Sirius could feel the rising and falling of Remus’s chest against him and could almost imagine the thrumming of blood in his veins. He reached up and brushed an errant curl off of Remus’s face, and thought he imagined Remus’s eyes flutter shut at his touch, just for a moment.

“Perfect, really,” Sirius said.

The ceremony was beautiful, and so were Mary and Amelia, but Sirius found himself distracted by the warm weight of Remus’s hand resting on his knee. Gilderoy had made to sit down next to them and Remus acted immediately, placing his hand decisively on Sirius’s leg with a cold and pointed look. Sirius covered Remus’s hand with his own, just to drive the point home, and they stayed like that during the entire ceremony, their joined fingers grazing the edge of Sirius’s inner thigh maddeningly.

“I’ll keep this up all night to keep him away from you, if you want,” Remus said after the ceremony, looking down at their joined hands and back up at Sirius with a strange, searching look.

“OK. Thanks,” Sirius replied, even though he didn’t need protection from Gilderoy or anyone. He didn’t care. Anything to keep Remus’s hands on him.

They stayed close all evening, even when Gilderoy was nowhere in sight. They drank and laughed, and their movements became loose and languid as night fell, the hot summer heat settling heavily all around them. Their bodies kept finding each other, pulled together like magnets, seemingly unable to keep themselves from touching in some way. A hand on the small of the other’s back; the flick of a thumb over the tender skin of an inner wrist; brushing a piece of lint off a lapel. Once they started, they couldn't stop. 

Mary ordered them shots and they fell into each other, laughing as they linked arms to take them, pressing firmly together, chest to elbow, tipping their heads back in tandem.

“Here, try this,” Remus would say, plucking an hors d'oeuvre off a passing tray and holding it up to Sirius’s mouth, his fingers grazing against Sirius’s lips as they parted to allow him entrance. 

They leaned together to talk over the loud music, and Sirius’s hand drifted to the back of Remus’s head, his fingertips tangling into the sweaty curls at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. Remus’s lips grazed the shell of Sirius’s ear to reply, his hand curving around Sirius’s waist, slipping up underneath his suit jacket, hot and insistent.

They talked and mingled with Remus’s friends, but Sirius couldn’t pay attention. He was so distracted, spellbound by the man in his arms. Remus floated in and out of conversation too, sometimes talking, sometimes looking sideways at Sirius’s neck with a hazy expression.

The night seemed to get hotter as it went on. They drank champagne and the bubbly liquid clung to Remus’s lips, shiny and sweet. Sirius ditched his jacked somewhere by the fountain, and a light sheen of sweat glowed on their skin. They gripped each other’s bodies as they danced, hands curving around waists, arms, shoulders, thighs, necks, anywhere they could reach. Remus’s fingers hooked into Sirius’s belt loops again and pulled him close, tracing his hipbones with every undulating movement. Sirius spun around and pulled Remus’s arms around his waist from behind, and they pressed flush, chest to back, as they danced, dipping and swaying as one. Sirius tipped his head to the side, and imagined the ghost of Remus’s lips grazing over the side of his neck.

Their eyes and hands kept roving over each other, their limbs kept pressing together. Sirius’s brain was fuzzy with champagne, the thrumming music, the glittering lights, and the hot night. But mostly it was with Remus himself. He was mesmerizing, hypnotic. His scent, his movements, the sound of his deep voice rasping in Sirius’s ear. The long, golden column of his throat glistening under the fairy lights. Sirius’s blood hummed and his skin itched like an addict. Every touch made him want more, a raw, intense craving that clawed in his gut.

“I’m hot,” Remus announced out of nowhere. He grabbed Sirius’s hand, pulled him off the dance floor, and shucked off his jacket, draping it over the back of a chair. He moved to roll up his shirtsleeves, but Sirius crowded into him until Remus’s back hit the edge of a cocktail table.

“Let me,” Sirius said, leaning against him. Remus relinquished the task immediately and watched Sirius’s hands as though hypnotized, his eyes tracing each movement of Sirius’s fingers as he brushed them across the corded muscle with every careful fold.

“Better?” Sirius asked when he finished, tilting his eyes upward.

“Much,” Remus whispered. Their chests were pressed together unnecessarily, but neither moved away. Sirius thought he could feel Remus’s heart thudding against both of their ribs and knew that his own heart was beating just as wildly. Remus looked at him, his gaze flicking between Sirius's eyes.

"I like this," Remus said, lifting his thumb to Sirius's eyelid and touching it gently, just under the brow. "Eyeliner?"

"Yeah," Sirius said, forcing himself to keep his eyes open.

"It looks really good on you," Remus said. 

"Thanks. I wasn't sure if you'd like it."

"I like it. A lot."

They startled when Remus’s phone buzzed in his pocket. They were standing so close that Sirius felt the vibration against his own thigh, and he acted without thinking. He reached into Remus’s trouser pocket to retrieve the phone for him, his hand dragging slowly against the firm muscles through the thin fabric. Remus’s leg slid closer to Sirius at his touch, easing between his knees, and their twin heartbeats quickened.

“Teddy’s mum again,” Remus murmured wearily and tipped his forehead against Sirius’s shoulder in exasperation. He leaned his head to the side, resting his cheek against Sirius’s collarbone, and allowed himself to sink further into Sirius’s body.

“You’ve got the patience of a saint,” Sirius whispered in Remus’s ear, wrapping an arm around his back, and Remus huffed a laugh, hot against Sirius’s neck. Remus lifted his head and looked at Sirius, his eyelids heavy, his lips parted. Their faces were a whisper apart, closer than ever. Sirius could feel Remus’s shallow breath against his skin, see the honey-brown freckles dusted across his cheeks. The music, which had been fast and rhythmic, eased into something slow and sensual, and Remus bit his lower lip.

“You want to dance?” Remus asked.

“I’d love to,” Sirius replied, twining their fingers together and leaning closer, ever closer.

Remus hastily typed out a reply to Teddy’s mum with one hand, pocketed his phone, and pulled Sirius onto the dance floor. They slipped through the crowd without a word, then sank into each other, chest to chest. Sirius’s hand slid up Remus’s back and their hips pressed together as they swayed in time to the music. They danced in silence, and Sirius’s body thrummed with powerful, desperate want as he remembered how Remus looked shirtless on the beach and the long, thin scar that cut across his chest and torso. It drove him mad knowing how close that scar was to his lips, knowing that it was pressed against him right now, separated only by two layers of thin fabric.

“I’ve been wondering,” Sirius whispered, his cheek resting against Remus’s, their stubble scratching together as he breathed into his ear. “About your scars.”

“What about them?” Remus whispered back, his arm wrapping more tightly around Sirius’s waist, pulling them closer.

“How did you get them?” Sirius breathed, tipping his head back to look at Remus’s beautiful face.

“Well, this one,” Remus started, and ran his tongue across his upper lip, over the scar that cut sideways above it, white and stark against his warm skin. “It came from a fist fight. Neighborhood bully, picking on my cousin.”

Sirius’s eyes flicked down to it, and the primal, feral need to feel it under his tongue flared up again, wild and unbidden. But they kept dancing, and Remus kept talking.

“I have one across my knuckles from breaking a glass bottle and one on my leg from falling off a bike.”

“And what about this one?” Sirius said, his eyes falling to Remus’s chest. Only the top two buttons of his shirt were open, not enough to actually show the scar that Sirius had been dreaming about and fantasizing over for weeks, but of course he knew exactly where it was.

“Which one?” Remus asked cheekily, cocking an eyebrow as he followed Sirius’s gaze. He knows which one, Sirius thought hazily, their chests and hips and thighs firm and hot against each other. He fucking knows.

“This one,” Sirius said. He pulled Remus’s collar aside and slipped his fingers underneath his shirt, running them along the smooth skin until they found the thin raised scar that started just under his collarbone. He traced the line of it further down, his fingertips featherlight as they roved across Remus’s chest. It was firm, leanly muscled, and perfect beneath his hand.

He felt wild and reckless, lightheaded with the thrill of finally touching Remus, and once he’d done it, he wanted more; he wanted everything. But he was crossing a line, and he knew it. He was tearing the line apart, ripping it to shreds, setting it on fire. He pulled his fingers out of Remus’s shirt and toyed with the buttons there instead, his breathing fast and shallow.

“That scar,” Remus said with a breathy little stutter, his eyes locked on Sirius’s, “is from sliding down a 50-foot pine tree. And while we’re asking each other about things, what is…”

He ran his thumb up the side of Sirius’s neck, starting along the warm skin under his collar at the junction of his shoulder. Goosebumps rippled across Sirius’s skin and he had to bite back a moan, his knees buckling, as Remus traced upward. He swirled his thumb against the soft skin just behind Sirius’s ear and leaned forward to whisper against it.

“This?” he breathed, and Sirius’s eyes fell shut against his will. “This beautiful tattoo. What’s it mean?”

“It’s…” Sirius stuttered, finding it hard to speak. “It’s a constellation. Canis Major. It contains—”

“Sirius,” Remus finished for him, his deep voice sighing his name, throaty and needy, almost like a lover.

“Yeah,” Sirius whispered. “Sirius.”

The music ended, but they didn’t pull apart. Instead they just stared at each other, frozen, shellshocked, as the DJ started talking exuberantly into the microphone. A jaunty, silly tune played behind his voice while a photographer with a long, wide lens stood next to him on the balcony.

“OK, OK everyone, get out onto the dance floor. Come on over, don’t be shy! The brides have asked for a group photo to show your love on their wedding day! So everyone grab whoever you’re next to and on the count of three, give them a big kiss. Ready? One! Two! Three!”

Everyone giggled and crashed into each other, silly and drunk on champagne, kissing their partner or the nearest stranger with showy abandon as they photographer clicked away.

“Guess that just leaves us,” Remus said softly, and before Sirius could even register what he was doing, Remus leaned down and kissed him.

It was slow and gentle at first, just a delicate peck for the camera. But Remus’s lips were full and soft, and parted easily against Sirius’s. Their mouths slid together, and Sirius felt the little ridge of Remus’s scar drag across his lips.

Suddenly, any ounce of control Sirius once possessed flew out the fucking window.

Sirius released a deep, helpless moan into Remus’s mouth and wrapped his hand around the back of his neck, flexing his fingers against the firm tendons before tangling up into his hair. He closed his hand around a soft fistful of curls, his fingernails scraping against Remus’s scalp as he pulled, and Remus moaned this time, flicking his tongue into Sirius’s mouth.

Remus dragged them closer with his hand against Sirius’s lower back until their hips were pressed firmly together, and Sirius felt the graze of teeth against his lower lip. His other hand found its way into Remus’s hair, too, until he was pulling Remus closer with both hands against the back of his head.

Sirius felt possessed, crazy with want, his breath coming in halting gasps as they kissed wantonly in the middle of the dance floor. His hands roved downward, over Remus’s neck, down his shoulders, and across his thighs, hooking into Remus’s pockets, yanking their hips closer, grinding together with shameless, naked desire, until they both jumped in surprise.

Remus’s phone was buzzing in his pocket again. But this time, it wasn’t a text. It was a phone call.

Chapter Text

Remus stumbled backwards from Sirius as though he’d been electrocuted, losing his footing so badly that he knocked into someone behind him and nearly upended their glass of champagne. But he didn’t seem to notice. Instead he stared at Sirius, his hair mussed, his chest heaving, his kiss-swollen lips shiny and parted, and wearing a look on his face of…

Of what? Sirius wondered, staring back, his own heart hammering in his chest. What was it?

And then he realized.

It was fear.

The look on Remus’s face was fear.

Remus’s phone was still buzzing in his hand, and he jumped at the vibration, as though he’d forgotten that it was ringing. He looked down at it slowly and slid a shaking finger across the screen to answer.

“Hello?” he said, his voice choked and trembling. “Hi…yeah…Is he OK?”

Remus’s brow furrowed, and he pressed one finger into his other ear as he bowed his head and struggled to hear over the music. An ABBA song now.

Sirius just stood there watching him, his heart thudding uncomfortably. He was suddenly unsure what to do with his hands. They felt clammy and awkward and empty, when just moments ago, they’d been…

“Did you try rocking him?” Remus asked into the phone. “What about the white noise machine?…Are you sure you can’t…No, I understand…Well, I don’t have my car…Yeah, I guess…I guess you can just bring him home…No, it’s fine…Really…I’ll be there in about half hour…OK…Dora, I said it’s fine, don’t worry…Yeah, OK. Bye.”

Remus ended the call but didn’t move right away. Instead, he kept his gaze fixed on his phone, took a slow, deep breath, and closed his eyes. Sirius watched him. He couldn’t look away if he tried. But when Remus finally looked up at Sirius, his expression had suddenly cleared. Gone was any trace of fear or uncertainty. Also gone was any hint that barely two minutes before they’d been grasping at each other’s bodies and panting into each other’s mouths in the most intense kiss Sirius had ever experienced in his life. Remus simply slung his hands into his pockets as though nothing had happened and gave Sirius an apologetic half laugh.

“Teddy’s mum,” Remus said in explanation, his voice casual and light. “She’s bringing him home. She says he won’t sleep. He’s been crying for hours apparently.”

“Is…is he OK?” Sirius asked, struggling to adjust from the whiplash of the past few minutes. He and Remus stood an arm’s length apart on the crowded dance floor. The gulf between them felt hollow and gaping as everyone danced and laughed all around them.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Remus said breezily. “I just feel badly for you. You were looking forward to getting out, and then we had to pretend to be dating all night and now…don’t feel like you have to leave just because I’m leaving. I’m sure there are a dozen guys here who’d be more than interested in being your real date, not your fake one.”

Remus’s words landed like a gut punch, and Sirius felt the air rush out of his lungs.

He was a fucking idiot. Of course it was fake. It was all fake; everything was fake. Everything—everything—for the past month had been fake, and Sirius was stupid enough to believe that maybe it wasn’t. And he kept believing it, again and again and again, despite all the evidence to the contrary, despite the clear and simple fact that Remus kept saying it was fake, even tonight.  

“I’ll keep this up all night, to keep him away from you, if you want.”

He had fucking said it again tonight.

Remus had told him the truth; he had been upfront with him from the very beginning. He couldn’t date.

He. Couldn’t. Date.

And Sirius, fucking Sirius—who never respected a boundary, who never took no for an answer, who always got his own fucking way like a spoiled, entitled brat—kept letting his imagination spiral into stupid fantasies.

Humiliation burned up his neck and clamped around his heart, but he pushed it down, shoved it away into a place where he already kept so much else that was brittle and broken.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sirius said in an easy, airy voice that burned like bile in his throat but sounded perfectly convincing. More pretending. It was all fake, everything was fake. Layers and layers of fake.

He gave Remus a bright, winning smile.

“Da to the rescue, right?” Sirius asked.

“Right,” Remus nodded, smiling back. “So, are you staying, or heading home, or…”

Fuck. That was the other thing. Sirius’s friends had kicked him out and taken over his flat, and in his stupid, adolescent excitement to see Remus, he hadn’t given much thought as to where he’d actually spend the night. Perhaps a small piece of himself had hoped he would end up in Remus’s bed after all.

“I don’t know,” Sirius said truthfully.

“Oh, right,” Remus replied, the same realization passing over his face, along with something else, too. Something shadowy and unreadable. He hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “You should come back to mine.”

“No, I can just kip on the floor at home,” Sirius said, dismissing the idea with a shake of his head. He’d be fine on the floor. Lord knows he’d slept in worse places.

“Don’t be silly,” Remus said. “You’re coming home with me, and that’s the end of it. Come on, let’s go say goodbye to Mary.”

Sirius hesitated, and for a second, Sirius thought Remus was reaching out a hand to grasp his. But just as fast, Remus’s hand was back in his pocket. Remus wasn’t reaching for him. It was just a spasm, a flex of fingers, Sirius’s wild imagination spinning him in foolish circles, yet again.

But still, he stared at Remus’s pocket. His own hands had been in those pockets twice tonight.

“What do you think?” Remus asked. Sirius’s eyes snapped back up to Remus’s face, and for the second time in a minute, Sirius felt himself gasping for breath.

Remus glowed under the fairy lights; his eyes, his lips, his golden skin. God, he was beautiful. He was so beautiful it ached. How had Sirius never noticed the pain before? It coursed under his skin and throbbed between every rib, like a thumb pressed into a bruise. He thought about going home with Remus, of somehow being in his orbit without touching him, and the ache intensified. He should preserve a little bit of his dignity. He should sleep on his living room floor and punish himself for his stupidity.

But then.

“Please?” Remus asked. His voice was sweet and soft and impossibly caring, and Sirius was helpless. Helpless.

“Yeah,” Sirius heard himself saying. “Alright.”

Helpless.

Remus gave Sirius a small smile and led the way through the crowd until they found Mary and Amelia saying goodbye to a couple of their neighbors.

“Hey, you two, that was some kiss!” Mary gushed as they approached. Her face was bright and joyful, as she grasped her new wife’s hand.

“Pretty convincing, yeah?” Remus said with a hearty laugh. “I’ve been running anti-Gilderoy interference for Sirius all night.”

Mary’s smile faltered, and her eyes flicked toward Sirius.

“Hell of a friend, huh?” Sirius asked, his overly jolly voice sounding ridiculous to his own ears.

Mary frowned and turned back to Remus. A strange, confused expression clouded her pretty face.

“Yeah, hell of a friend,” she said slowly, sounding oddly annoyed as her eyes bored into his. But Remus carried on talking.

“Anyway,” he said easily. “We’ve got to get going.”

Mary’s expression grew cool as Remus explained that Teddy’s mum was bringing him home.

“You could just tell her no, you know,” Mary said, and the sourness in her voice was undeniable. It seeped through her words like poison. She and Remus looked at each other in silence for a few moments, and Sirius felt the tension crackling between them. “It wouldn’t kill her to hear that word once in a while. And it wouldn’t kill you to say it.”

“Mary,” Amelia said under her breath, placing a gentle hand on Mary’s shoulder. Mary glanced at her, then looked back at Remus again, her jaw tight.

“You’re right,” Remus agreed with a defeated-looking shrug. “I should say no to her more. Just not tonight, I guess.”

Mary examined his face for a moment longer, then sighed, her gaze softening, just a little.

“Alright,” she said, shaking her head. “But I don’t have to like it.”

Remus didn’t answer right away.

“Neither do I,” he said finally.

They continued to look at each other without speaking, and Sirius’s eyes darted between them. He got the feeling that an entire conversation was happening in the silence.

“Love you,” she said finally.

“Love you, too,” Remus replied, and they folded into a hug. “I’m so happy for you. Congratulations.”

“Thanks, Moony,” she whispered.

Remus let go of Mary, then hugged Amelia, while Mary turned to Sirius.

“Thank you for coming! I hope you had a good time,” Mary said earnestly, grasping his hands.

“I had a wonderful time. Thank you for inviting me,” Sirius replied.

Mary leaned forward to kiss his cheek, then hesitated, as though she wanted to say something else. Finally, she squeezed Sirius’s hand and whispered in his ear.

“He’s good at pretending,” she said.

Yeah, Sirius wanted to replied. Don’t I fucking know it.

“The best,” Sirius agreed instead with a tight smile.

Sirius had expected the walk back to Remus’s flat to be quiet and awkward, but it was the opposite. Remus was positively babbling, talking a mile a minute about anything and everything, filling every second of silence with some funny story or weird fact.

“Did you know there’s no Roman numeral for zero?”

“Anytime a little kid doesn’t understand math, I start with cooking or money, and then they start to get it.”

“It’s easy to dismiss the idea that crystals have energetic properties as New Age bullshit, but quartz is a piezoelectric material and can actually start a fire under certain circumstances, so maybe we should be a bit more openminded and admit there might be some things we don’t understand about the world.”

“Can you believe they admitted that aliens are real, and everyone’s just like, eh, fuck it, what’s for dinner?”

“I was once on a date with someone who got arrested during the date, and I still didn’t break up with the fucker for another, like, six weeks.”

At first, Sirius was distracted and only half listening. He kept looking sideways at Remus: at his neck, his lips, his hands that had roved over Sirius’s body all night, at his hips that had pressed and grinded against his. But soon, like always, he got swept up and lost in Remus himself, with his sarcastic, laughing demeanor and sweet, funny kindness, and found himself laughing and talking, too.

It was easy to do; so easy. Because beyond just being attracted to him, Sirius loved listening and talking to him, loved spending time with him, loved everything about him. Sirius loved—

No. Don’t you dare say it. Don’t even fucking think it.

“This is me,” Remus said, nodding to a small tower block with a brick façade and rows of white balconies, many with flowers spilling over the railings. Remus led them into a quiet, sterile-white lobby, bypassing the elevator and walking instead into an echoey stairwell, where they climbed two flights of stairs and emerged into a carpet-lined corridor. Just a few steps later, Remus was pushing his key into the lock at flat 307. They could already hear ragged, desperate wailing from the other side of the door, and Remus hurried to get inside.

“Remus, thank fucking Christ.”

Teddy was red-faced and screaming, held by a harried-looking woman with faded-pink hair and a light sheen of sweat clinging to her face. She paced back and forth as she clutched Teddy like a heavy, writhing sack of grain. Her arms were stiff and awkward around his little body, as though unsure how to hold him properly. In fact, she was holding him a little sideways, with his legs dangling weirdly. He looked incredibly uncomfortable, as though he might slip onto the floor at any moment. His blonde curls were sweaty and clinging to his forehead and neck, and a strip of pink puke was streaked across his chin and pajama shirt.

Teddy’s wild eyes landed on Remus and he swallowed a huge, gulping gasp of air at the sight of him.

“Da!” he cried hoarsely, and nearly dove out of his mother’s arms, straining to get to Remus. Dora stumbled with the force of Teddy’s reach and struggled even more mightily to hold him without dropping him.

Remus rushed toward them and scooped Teddy into his arms.

“It’s alright, Teddy Bear, daddy’s home,” Remus murmured into Teddy’s damp hair as Teddy hiccupped and whimpered against his chest. Remus bounced him and rubbed his back, talking softly while Teddy continued to cry, but not as frantically. He was obviously exhausted, and although he still whimpered, his eyes started to droop almost immediately when Remus started to sing Ar Hyd y Nos.

Sirius had been watching, but had to look away. He didn’t think his heart could take Remus singing a Welsh lullaby right now. Instead, he looked over at Teddy’s mum and found that she was already watching him.

“Sirius, right?” she asked.  

“Yeah,” Sirius replied, realizing in that moment that Remus had never told him her name. He’d never even heard Remus say it until that evening on the phone. She watched Sirius struggle to remember what it was as Remus walked to the far side of his flat, trying to calm Teddy.

“Dora,” she supplied, still watching him intently, as though she knew he didn’t know her name. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Have you?”

“Well, just that Remus seems to be with you and your son every day. ‘My friend Sirius, my friend Sirius,’” she said in a singsong voice. “And here you are. In the flesh.”

She looked him up and down again; X-rayed him really.

“You’re not what I expected,” she said.

“No?”

“No,” she replied, but offered no further explanation. Instead, her eyes glanced to the clock on the microwave. The glowing numbers said 1:15 am.

“It’s a little late for tea,” she continued.

“We’re coming from the wedding,” Sirius reminded her.

”Ahh. And are you spending the night?”

“Yeah, um, my flat has been kind of invaded by a giant tribe of babysitters,” he said with an awkward laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “So I figured I’d just kip on the couch and—”

“Remus doesn’t have a couch,” she interrupted. “He has a loveseat.”

“The loveseat, then.”

“Bit small for you, isn’t it?”

Sirius’s eyes darted to the loveseat. Indeed, half his legs would be hanging off the end.

“I’ll manage,” he said.

“I hope so,” she said, raising an eyebrow as she continued to survey him. She was pretty and petite, almost delicate looking, with small hands and a cute, heart-shaped face. But her expression was anything but cherubic. It was shrewd and skeptical.

But it changed when Remus walked back toward them. Teddy had finally settled, although he still looked agitated, even with his eyes closed. One chubby cheek was smooshed against Remus’s chest and his little forehead furrowed as he sucked his pacifier, as though they were one false move away from him exploding into tears again. Remus’s hand covered the entire width of Teddy’s shoulders, his palm and fingers splayed wide across his back like a heavy, comforting ballast.

Dora approached him with a soft smile and tired eyes and rested her hand on the small of Remus’s back. She tipped her head onto Remus’s arm and gazed at their son. Teddy had her lips, Sirius noticed. A pretty little cupid’s bow. Dora moved her hand in slow circles on Remus’s back, and Sirius’s stomach lurched. He felt like he was intruding on a private family moment. She tilted her head up to look at Remus—her husband, Sirius reminded himself—and there was nothing but adoration on her face.

“My knight in shining armor,” she sighed. “How do you do it?”

“Practice,” Remus said quietly, pressing a kiss onto Teddy’s sweaty head and not meeting her eye. He sounded exhausted. “Just practice.”

Dora moved to rest her head on Remus’s arm again, but Remus stepped out of her embrace without looking at her. Instead, he moved across the small kitchen to stand next to Sirius.

“I can take it from here,” Remus told her. “Thanks for watching him.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, stepping toward them again. “I can help you put him to bed now that he’s—”

“No, I’m fine,” Remus said. “Thanks anyhow. You look wiped. You should head home.”

Her face was stricken as she looked between Remus and Teddy.

“I’m sorry, Remus, I really tried. It’s just so hard to do alone,” she said, and there was a note of pleading in her voice.

“I know,” Remus nodded, still not looking at her. He dropped another kiss on Teddy’s head instead.

“It’s just that he started crying for no reason, and he wouldn’t stop, no matter what I did. And then I had to pick him up, and carry him around, and he got so heavy, and I had to do everything one-handed, and…”

“I know,” Remus said again, cutting her off. “He’s my son, I know.”

“But you don’t understand, Remus! He was crying so hard, he started gagging. I thought he was going to puke! I was so afraid—"

“Dora,” Remus said, more sharply than he had before, and Sirius was happy to hear a little bit of fight in his voice. “Trust me. I understand. In fact, you’re talking to two people who understand better than most, alright?”

Remus turned to look at Sirius, almost involuntarily, it seemed. Sirius gave him a small smile, and Remus bit his lower lip, his eyes looking shinier than usual when Sirius put comforting a hand between his shoulder blades. The muscles were rigid and tense, but seemed to relax a little under Sirius’s touch. He must be so frustrated. Sirius was frustrated, too, and he barely knew her.

“Right,” Dora said quietly, but her voice didn’t sound very apologetic anymore. It was cold. She looked between Remus and Sirius, standing across from her in the too-bright kitchen. Her eyes flicked down to Sirius’s hand on Remus’s back, then back up again.

But she didn’t look at Remus.

She looked at Sirius.

“I’ll get out of your way, then,” she said, staring at him.

“You’re not in the way,” Remus sighed, but Dora just nodded silently, her lower lip trembling and her eyes bright and brimming with tears.

“Dora—” Remus said.

“No, you’re right, I should get some sleep,” she said, shaking her head and looking at the floor. She brushed a stray tear as it fell onto her cheek.

“Thank you for taking Teddy for tonight. I really appreciated it,” Remus told her, his voice flat and tired.

“I loved it,” she said. “I love him. I wanted to have him.”

She hesitated, then looked up at Remus with wide, hopeful eyes.

“Do you think I could come back tomorrow?” she asked in a trembling voice. “And maybe we could spend some time together? As a family? I love him so much, Remus. I just…it’s so hard for me to do it alone.”

Remus sighed, then nodded.

“Yeah, fine,” Remus agreed. “We’ll go to the playground or something.”

“Thank you,” she said. She rushed over to them, kissed Teddy’s head, then kissed Remus’s cheek. “Is lunchtime OK?”

“Sure,” Remus shrugged.

“I can’t wait,” she said brightly. She turned away and walked to the door, but stopped before stepping into the hallway.

“Oh,” she said, turning back toward him. “I meant to ask you. Teddy was screaming something that sounded like, ‘Bra! Bra!’ all night. Do you know what that means?”

And before Sirius could stop himself, he answered her.

“He means his bra,” Sirius said, smiling fondly at Teddy and running a finger over one of his chubby cheeks. “He has a lacy red bra that he carries around like a blankie.”

“Remember I told you a few weeks ago?” Remus asked her.

Dora’s eyes narrowed at Sirius, but only for a moment.

“Oh, right! Yeah, of course I remember. How could I forget?” she said with a forced-sounding laugh. “Well, goodnight, Rem. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” Remus nodded.

She disappeared into the corridor, letting the door slam shut behind her. At the sound, Teddy startled, his eyes snapped open, and he started crying again.

“I’ve been asking her to close doors quietly for 16 fucking months,” Remus said over Teddy’s screams. “How hard is it to remember?”

He started bouncing Teddy again, rubbing his back and singing, but nothing seemed to work.

“I need some paracetamol,” Remus said, groping one handed in a cabinet above the refrigerator. “My head is fucking killing me between the champagne and her.”

“Here, let me take him,” Sirius said, and Remus handed Teddy off gratefully while he got himself a glass of water and searched the cabinet.

Teddy continued to cry as Sirius crossed Remus’s flat to the balcony, slid open the door, and stepped outside. The moment the cool night air hit Teddy’s face, he stopped crying. Instead, he blinked and looked around. The city lights sparkled brightly all around them and the occasional car rolled by below. Teddy was transfixed, his red-rimmed eyes darting from interesting thing to interesting thing.

“Look at that,” Sirius whispered, pointing to someone taking their dog outside to pee. “A doggie.”

“Daw,” Teddy repeated through a wet little hiccup, looking at the sidewalk.

“And what’s that?” Sirius asked, pointing to the sky. “The moon?”

“Moo,” Teddy murmured. He sighed, then rested his cheek on Sirius’s chest and listened while Sirius continued to point out a car, a tree, a wispy cloud floating across the dark sky.

“Are you some kind of magician?” Remus’s voice said behind them.

Sirius turned around to see Remus stepping onto the balcony with them. He looked down at Teddy, whose face was smooshed contentedly against Sirius’s chest, and smiled.

“It’s a trick I learned accidentally with Harry over the winter,” Sirius said, moving his hand in slow circles across Teddy’s back. “He wouldn’t stop screaming. It felt like hours, but it probably wasn’t that long. I finally took him outside, just to get out of my flat’s four walls before they closed in on me. He stopped crying instantly. I think he needed a change of scenery or something. Or maybe the cold air just surprised him into silence. Either way, it usually works.”

“That’s amazing,” Remus said, his eyes on Sirius’s hand as it moved across his son’s back. They stood in silence for a few minutes longer, watching the city glow all around them. Finally, Remus tilted his head to peak at Teddy. His eyes had finally fallen shut, and his pacifier was drooping from his lips.

“Bedtime, I think,” Remus whispered. Without a word, Sirius handed Teddy to Remus, their arms and hands dragging against each other as they made the transfer. Teddy’s brow furrowed again, and he whimpered at the movement. Sirius knew how he felt. Teddy had been sweet and warm in his arms, and the night felt suddenly cold without him.

“Shh, it’s OK, buddy,” Remus said, trying to soothe Teddy again as they stepped inside. “I’m going to lay down on my bed with him for a while, if you don’t mind. He’s still so ansty.”

“Yeah, of course,” Sirius said.

“The loveseat pulls out into a bed. I can get you some sheets and a pillow after he settles, but feel free to watch the telly in the meantime.”

Sirius eyed the loveseat, grateful that he wouldn’t have to cram himself onto it. It was so small. Remus disappeared into his dark bedroom, and Sirius was just sitting down when…

“Pa!” Teddy cried. “Pa!”

Sirius’s heart lurched and his mouth dropped open. Was Teddy calling for him?

“Pa!” Teddy wailed a third time, and broke into vicious sobs. They sounded more tired than anything else, but still. They ripped across Remus’s flat and Sirius’s heart ached. “Pa!”

“I’m so sorry,” Remus said, reappearing in the bedroom doorway. “I think you’re being summoned.”

“It’s alright,” Sirius said. He got up and walked toward him. Remus looked utterly exhausted, his eyes just as heavy as Teddy’s, and Sirius had the overwhelming urge to wrap him into a hug. Not to kiss him this time, though. Just to hold him close, to take care of him, to let him fall asleep in his arms. The thought startled Sirius a little. He’d never thought such a thing about anyone in all his life.

He didn’t do it, though. Of course he didn’t. But there was that ache again, sharp and profound. Instead, he looked at Teddy, who was lying in the middle of Remus’s bed and crying. He sat up and called for Sirius again.

“What should I do?” Sirius asked.

“Usually I just lay with him for a little while,” Remus said, looking down at Teddy, too.

“OK,” Sirius nodded, but Remus stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“You don’t have to,” he said quickly, and for the first time, Sirius saw a shadow of recognition that they’d shared something beyond a casual night out. Remus looked worried, nervous even. But Sirius just smiled at him, trying to be reassuring.

“It’s fine,” Sirius said as casually as he could.

Sirius kicked off his shoes, pulled off his suit jacket, and climbed atop the bed. He lay down onto the pillow and rolled onto his side to face Teddy as he loosened his tie and unbuttoned the first few buttons of his dress shirt. The pillow smelled like Remus and Sirius’s chest ached once more.

Remus stayed in the doorway, silhouetted against the living room light, as though unsure what to do next. But then Teddy cried out again.

“Da!” Teddy called, looking around for Remus, too, and reaching his pudgy little hands toward him. Remus hesitated for a moment, but crossed the room and stood on the other side of the bed.

“Do you mind?” he asked.

“Of course not,” Sirius whispered back.

Remus also took off his suit jacket and shoes, laid down on Teddy’s other side, and put a comforting hand on Teddy’s shoulder.

“Lay down, buddy,” Remus whispered, and Teddy quietly obeyed. He settled into the middle of the mattress and let out a contented sigh, as though he wanted nothing more than the safety and comfort of two warm, loving bodies engulfing him while he slept. He grasped both Remus and Sirius’s fingers—one in each hand—and closed his eyes.

Remus and Sirius watched Teddy sleep without talking for a long time until finally, Remus spoke.

“This is what it’s been like since the day Teddy was born,” he whispered, his eyes not leaving his son’s face. He spoke as though the words were hard to say. “Anytime I ask her to do anything remotely out of her comfort zone, it ends up a disaster. She fucking flits in and out whenever she feels like it. She stays around just long enough to do the fun stuff and disappears the second it gets hard. And I’m so tired of it, Sirius. I am so fucking tired of it.”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius whispered back. He wasn’t sure what else to say. But he got the feeling Remus didn’t need him to say anything. He only needed him to listen. And once he started talking, it seemed he couldn’t stop, like he’d been holding it inside forever.

“It’s not fair,” Remus said, his voice cracking with frustration or anger or sadness, or maybe all three. “It’s not fair to me, but that’s fine. I don’t really care. I signed up for this. Or at least I can take responsibility for it. But Teddy didn’t sign up for any of it. He didn’t ask to be born. He’s innocent, and he doesn’t deserve this. Maybe it’s fine now. He’s just a baby. But what am I going to tell him when he’s five and she brings him home in the middle of the night because she’s overwhelmed? Or when he’s eight and she’s missed three visits in a row? Or when he’s 10 and she doesn’t show up to his football match? I hate talking shit about my son’s mother. But I have learned over the past 16 months that not everyone is meant for parenthood. And it’s not some moral failing. I’m not passing judgement at all. Maybe she really is trying her best. But it’s just kind of like…in or out, you know? Pick one. You don’t have to be the best parent in the world, no one is. We all fuck up, all time. But just be there. If you say you want to be a part of his life, then show up. Put in some fucking effort. Be willing to be uncomfortable. Otherwise, just get the fuck on with it and let us move on.”

Remus was quiet for a moment, then finally looked at Sirius. Their faces were inches apart on their pillows as they gazed at each other in the dark. Remus’s face was cast in dim shadows, but Sirius could still see his eyes starting to glisten with unshed tears.

“I’m sorry,” Remus choked. “For everything. This whole night has been…I’m so sorry, Sirius.”

Sirius wasn’t exactly sure what Remus was apologizing for, but for the second time that night, he looked close to tears.

“Hey, shh,” Sirius said. “It’s alright. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Remus just squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, as though trying desperately not to cry, but it was no use. A single tear leaked out and dripped across the bridge of his nose. Sirius imagined the freckles on his face glistening under it and reached out to brush it away. His couldn’t stand to see him hurting.

“Oh, baby, don’t cry,” Sirius whispered, his fingertips gently caressing Remus’s cheek to wipe away the tear, before his stomach jolted with embarrassment. Baby? Had he just called Remus baby? The word had spilled out of his mouth, unbidden and unexpected. What the fuck was wrong with him?

But to his surprise, Remus’s face crumpled even more just then, and his chest heaved a sob, the tears streaking down his face uncontrollably. Remus reached up and cupped his hand over Sirius’s, clinging to it, holding it fast against his cheek. Sirius could feel his fingers trembling as he cried.

“You’re so good, Sirius,” he said, opening his eyes again. They were drowned in emotion, and he looked at Sirius as though his heart was breaking. “I never expected—”

But he didn’t finish the sentence. Instead, he abruptly let go of Sirius’s hand and wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

Sirius frowned at him.

“Never expected what?”

Remus’s eyes snapped up to his and again, Sirius thought he saw fear flicker in them.

“To…to be a dad,” Remus said quickly. “It’s overwhelming sometimes. To do it alone, especially. You know how it is.”

“I do know,” Sirius said. “But you’re not alone tonight. I’m here.”

Remus pulled his lower lip between his teeth, and his chest heaved again. He breathed in and out slowly and intentionally, as though trying to calm himself.

“I know you are,” Remus said in a small, shaking voice. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Sirius said. “I mean that, Remus.”

Remus didn’t reply. He just nodded as tears silently slid down his cheeks.

They lay together in silence after that, still in their dress clothes from the wedding, Teddy still laying between them and clinging to their fingers, until sleep claimed them, one by one. First Teddy, then Remus, then finally, Sirius. Sirius watched Remus and Teddy sleep for what felt like a long time, but was probably no time at all. He didn’t really know. All he knew was how beautiful they were and how much he wished Harry were there with them, how soft and cozy they’d all be together.

Sirius’s mind wandered in and out of sleep, spinning and rolling as though on a wave, and his last thought before finally drifting off was wondering how Mary knew that Remus was good at pretending.

Chapter Text

The next two days passed in a tightly coiled blur of anticipation leading up to the anniversary of James and Lily’s death. Sirius did his best to keep his mind occupied and wear himself out physically. He did 10 mile runs both days with Harry in the running buggy, ran errands he’d been putting off for weeks, and prepped an entire month’s worth of meals for the freezer.

But when the day finally arrived, Sirius was surprised to find himself calm and almost at peace. It was a beautiful day in late August, just like it had been exactly a year before, bright and sunny, with the smallest nip of autumn on the breeze. He made Harry his usual porridge and fruit for breakfast and found comfort in the easy routine. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the day for Harry. It was just another morning as far as he was concerned, and Sirius found that oddly comforting.

At 9:00 am, Mrs. Smith arrived with a shepherd’s pie and a kiss on the cheek.

“In case you don’t feel like cooking tonight, love,” she said.

At 9:30, Mrs. Bagshot arrived with a tin of pecan shortbread.

“Thought you might need something sweet today,” she told him with a squeeze around the middle.

And at 10:00, a beautiful bouquet of lilies arrived from Remus.

Sending lots of love to you and Harry. Love, Remus and Teddy, the card read.

Sirius had woken up that morning to a text from Remus, too: “Thinking about you today. Dora’s dragging me and Teddy to a carnival, but just say the word, and I’m here to talk. Anytime. Don’t hesitate.”

Sirius stared at the text for a long time. He knew that Remus meant it, knew that he’d step away from whatever they were doing to talk to Sirius for as long as he needed to. The ache in Sirius’s chest from the memory of their kiss was still there, but it felt more distant today. Mostly, Sirius was grateful to have Remus as a friend.

But he also knew that Remus and Teddy were spending time with Dora for the third time in as many days. First, it was the playground on Saturday, then ice cream sundaes the next day, and now a carnival today. He wanted to be happy for them, or at least for Teddy. His mother was finally giving him some attention. Yet he couldn’t ignore the rabid jealousy that frothed in his chest at the image of Dora’s arm threaded around Remus’s waist or the thought that Dora didn’t deserve Remus’s time and attention.

But he pushed all that aside. There were more important things to think about.

He dressed Harry in an outfit that he imagined James would have especially loved: A Cornwall rugby shirt, khaki shorts, and a pair of white, baby-sized Air Force Ones. The Nike trainers were a splurge and a silly one, considering how fast Harry would grow out of them, but they were certainly something James would have approved of.

The rest of the day was surprisingly beautiful. Happy, even. Sirius was surrounded by friends, people who loved him and Harry and who missed James and Lily almost as much as he did. They looked at old pictures and videos and laughed at their shared memories. There were tears, too, of course, but the day was more sweet than bitter. He and Harry ended the night with lots of extra snuggles, cuddling on the couch watching Bluey and hugging a little tighter than usual. Sirius closed his eyes and breathed in Harry’s perfect baby smell, resting his cheek on the top of Harry’s head. A few stray tears leaked out of Sirius’s eyes and into Harry’s black hair, but they felt good, cleansing somehow, like a little baptism of love springing from the grief.

Sirius went to bed with a sense of pride and relief. Harry was happy and healthy, and so was he. Sirius had lived without James for an entire year, and he was still here, still OK, and so was Harry, the most important star in his sky.

He’d done it. He’d made it.

What Sirius hadn’t counted on, though, was how he would feel after living without James for a year and a day.         

Sirius woke with a jolting gasp in his dark bedroom at 3:00 am, his heart hammering and sweat drenching his t-shirt and sheets. He clutched at his chest while an unnamed panic gripped his mind. Harry. He needed to find Harry. Sirius stumbled out of bed and crashed against the door, groping for the doorknob. He couldn’t find it. Where was it? Finally, his fingers closed around the cool metal. He yanked the door open and ran down the hall into Harry’s room, where the white noise machine hummed softly soothing rain sounds and a nightlight cast twinkly yellow stars across the ceiling.

Sirius thought his breathing would slow when he saw Harry fast asleep in his crib, looking peaceful and cherubic, but it didn’t. Sirius pressed a shaking hand to Harry’s chest, just to feel the rise and fall of his breath, then watched him sleep for a minute longer, gripping the crib railing with trembling fingers. Every inhale felt like a knife slicing through his lungs.

His knees shook as he forced himself out of Harry’s room and staggered back to bed. He crawled across the mattress and sat right in the middle of it, trying to calm his breathing, but he couldn’t. He felt like his heart was about to burst out of his chest, as though every racing, punching thud was trying to splinter his ribs into pieces.

Harry was fine. Harry was fine. But James.

James was dead. Sirius curled into himself and cried and cried and cried.

His eyes stung with tiredness and tears when his phone buzzed the next afternoon. He groped for it on the bedside table and opened the text message.

Remus: Checking in. How was yesterday?

Remus. Sirius closed his eyes and felt the dread start to ebb away for the first time in 10 hours.

Sirius: Yesterday was unexpectedly great, actually.

Sirius: Today not so much.

Remus: Why? What happened?

Sirius: I woke up kind of panicky around 3:00 this morning. Just with this, like, crushing dread that every day is further away from a time when James was in the world. Time just keeps ticking further and further away from him. And it’s been downhill from there.

Remus: Ughhh sweetie, I’m sorry. Did you ever get back to sleep?

Sirius: No

Remus: What have you been doing all day?

Sirius: Lying in bed, sobbing, holding onto Harry like a fucking life raft. Probably royally fucking him up in the process, too. He’ll have some nice recovered memories to analyze in therapy in 20 years.

Sirius rolled his head to the side to look at Harry, who had fallen asleep clutching a ragged and threadbare stuffed deer that had once belonged to James.

Remus: It’s after lunchtime. Have you eaten?

Sirius: Harry’s eaten

Remus: Oh Sirius

Remus: What can I do?

Sirius: I don’t know. Probably nothing. I’m sure it’ll pass.

Remus: Can you do something for me instead?

Sirius: OK

Remus: Close your eyes. Take a few nice, deep breaths, and think about the last time you felt really calm and content. Where was it?

Sirius dropped his phone onto the mattress and pressed the heels of his hands over his eyes. He thought about Remus’s question, not only now but in the context of the past 366 days.

If you’d asked Sirius two years ago what would happen to him if James Potter died, his answer would have come quickly and easily. He would have said that he’d die, too.

But as it turns out, you can’t sink too deeply into the dark hollows of grief with a baby.

In the immediate aftermath of James’s death, Sirius wanted to scream and shred himself raw. How could the sun come up, how could the earth spin, how could Sirius’s heart continue to beat without James Potter, his brother, his soulmate, the most important person in his world? James was gone, and Sirius wanted to go with him.

But an hour later, James’s son needed his nappie changed.

Harry needed a bottle an hour after that, and he needed sleep soon after that. He needed nappies throughout the night and more bottles the next day. He needed love and snuggles, smiles, songs, stories, and clean clothes, all day, every day.

Harry needed Sirius all the time, and one morning without James turned into two. Then, two mornings turned into many. Those mornings turned into afternoons, then into nights. And before Sirius knew it, he was watching Harry take his first, joyful, miraculous steps toward a muddy puddle. He was standing in the ocean at sunset with Harry cuddled against his chest and Remus and Teddy playing next to them in the glittering waves, and he was radiantly happy. Happier than he’d ever been in all his life.

The pang of guilt that accompanied that realization was sharp and acute. He was living the life that should have belonged to James. Was it a betrayal to be happy?

But he also had an answer for Remus, one that hit him like a lightning bolt to his heart.

Sirius: It was at the seaside. With you.

Remus: Then let’s go there.

So they did.

Remus’s parents had arrived home from Majorca the day before, and his mother had claimed Teddy for the night as soon as she was unpacked.

“She could take Harry, too, if you want,” Remus offered. “If you need a break.”

Considering Sirius had had to change Harry’s onesie twice already because it was soaked with Sirius's tears, a break probably wasn’t a bad idea.

Remus picked up Sirius and Harry just before dinnertime. Sirius waited for him in the lobby of his building, still desperately clutching Harry like he’d disappear at any moment.

Yes, he really did need a break.

“Are you alright, Sirius?” Mrs. Smith asked sweetly. “You look a little peaky.”

“Just missing Harry’s dad,” he admitted. He knew his eyes were still a little red and puffy. Why pretend otherwise?

Mrs. Smith put down her cup of tea, and crossed the lobby to Sirius. She pulled him into a hug.

“You’re a wonderful man, Sirius,” she said. “I hope Remus makes you feel better, dear.”

Sirius nodded. He hadn’t said that Remus was picking him up. But she knew.

A few minutes later, Remus pulled up to the curb and waved at Mrs. Smith through the window. Teddy waved, too, and opened his mouth in what must have been a joyful scream, judging by his pink cheeks and Remus’s sudden, wincing expression. Mrs. Smith laughed as she waved back, and Sirius felt his jaw begin to unclench.

“Hey, you,” Remus said softly while Sirius buckled Harry into the car seat. He waited until Sirius was finished, then got out of the car and wrapped Sirius into a hug. It was strong, warm, and engulfed Sirius in safety. Once more, Sirius felt the muscles in his body relax; his neck and shoulders and even his forehead.

“I’m sorry you had such a shit day,” Remus whispered, pulling him close. Sirius rested his head on Remus’s shoulder and hugged him back, breathing in his comforting scent and letting himself soften into his arms. As always, Remus was soul-achingly beautiful, but Sirius’s desire was easily overshadowed by how wonderful and comforted he felt just by being his friend.

“Thanks,” Sirius whispered back. “Feels a little better already.”

They pulled away but not apart, still wrapped up in each other, and Sirius noticed all the ladies in the lobby watching them out the window now.

“Always an audience,” Sirius said softly. Remus laughed, and Sirius felt it rumble through both of their chests, sending a shiver across his skin. He glanced at the window once more, then without letting himself think too much about it, leaned up and brushed his lips against Remus’s. The kiss was soft and chaste, barely a second long, but it still sent a thrill of electricity crackling up Sirius’s spine.  

“Just so they don’t think there’s trouble in paradise,” Sirius murmured, their lips centimeters apart, their shared breath warm.

“Wouldn’t want that,” Remus whispered back and kissed him again. Sirius’s eyes slipped shut and his body softened into Remus even more.

“Kitty!” Harry shrieked, pointing at a grey squirrel running up a tree. Remus and Sirius startled and stepped apart. Sirius noticed a hint of pink creeping up Remus’s neck under the collar of his Babes in Toyland t-shirt.

“Ready?” Remus asked, looking at him shyly from underneath those long lashes.

“Yeah,” Sirius said, waving once more to the ladies in the window as he shut the van door.

“Want some music?” Remus asked.

“Sure,” Sirius agreed, and they blared The Wiggles all the way to Remus’s parents house, much to Harry’s and Teddy’s laughing delight.

“I’m thinking of graduating Teddy to Cardi B soon,” Remus said over the music. “The Wiggles-to-WAP pipeline makes a lot of sense to me.”

“I think Captain Feathersword would probably need a bucket and a mop for all of his pirate conquests on the high seas,” Sirius agreed.

He and Remus looked at each other and dissolved into laughter as they drove onward.

Twenty minutes later, they’d dropped the boys off at Hope and Lyall Lupin’s house. Remus had his father’s height and lanky frame, but otherwise was the spitting image of his mother, who greeted them all—including Sirius—with hugs that were unreserved in their happiness and excitement. She looked incredibly young, with barely a wrinkle on her pretty, freckled face, and soft golden curls tumbling over her shoulders. She was barefoot and wore a white, cotton, ankle-length dress and a silver pentagram necklace with a piece of black crystal in the center.

“Sirius,” she said, gazing up at him, her honey-brown eyes sweet and warm, just like her son’s. “It’s so wonderful to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too, Hope,” Sirius said. Remus had already warned him against calling her Mrs. Lupin. “Thank you for watching Harry.”

“It’s my joy,” she said, and Sirius had a feeling she meant it. “Any foods he can’t eat? And do you mind a little messy play? I have a finger-painting project that might get a little involved.”

“No and no,” Sirius answered, and warmth spread across his chest knowing where Remus got his penchant for mud.

“We’re just going to walk on the beach for a bit,” Remus told her. “Have some dinner. We won’t be too late.”

“Stay out as long as you want,” Hope said easily, taking a baby on each hip with a bright, delighted smile. “All night, if you fancy! We have plenty to do and plenty of places for babies to sleep! Majorca was lovely, but far too quiet. I’m in the mood for some chaos and magic.”

“Nan!” Teddy shrieked as he arrived in Hope’s arms.

“Nan!” Harry imitated, and Sirius’s breathing slowed, yet again.

“Your mum is amazing,” Sirius said, as they drove away a few minutes later.

“I know,” Remus said, nodding appreciatively. “I just love her to bits.”

Remus tilted his head and looked at Sirius in that sweet, wondering way of his.

“Are you sure you’re OK leaving Harry? I know it’s been a tough few days,” Remus said, and once again, Sirius’s heart swelled at his thoughtfulness.

“I really am,” Sirius said, and it was true. Hope put him completely at ease, and Harry wasn’t even a little bit nervous with her. Instead, he went effortlessly into her arms, and laughed as he played with her curls.

“How are you feeling?” Remus asked.

“Better,” Sirius said, looking sideways at Remus. “Better now.”

Remus looked at Sirius, too, and gave him a soft smile.

“Good,” he nodded, then reached into Sirius’s lap and threaded their fingers together. Sirius waited for his heartrate to quicken, but instead, the opposite happened. He found himself relaxing even more, and they drove in sweet, soft silence until they reached the beach cottage.

It was just as they’d left it a few weeks earlier, but a lot cooler this time, as autumn lingered around the corner and the sun sunk low in the sky. Remus had stopped at the market without telling Sirius, buying basil, pine nuts, olive oil, lemons, garlic, parmesan cheese, and fresh pasta, and they stood shoulder to shoulder at the kitchen counter making pesto together while they sipped on cold prosecco and ate prosciutto-wrapped melon.

“I thought you could only make sandwiches,” Sirius said as he watched Remus squeeze lemon juice into the food processor.

“You inspired me,” Remus said. “That apple crumble brought out my latent Nigella.”

They ate on the back patio, watching the waves from a distance and dunking hunks of warm, crusty bread into the green, basil-scented olive oil that coated their empty plates. Sirius hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he took his first bite.

“This was amazing, Remus, thank you,” Sirius said, pouring them each the rest of the prosecco. Twilight had properly fallen around them, and little pinpricks of stars were starting to pop out in the inky, blue-black sky over the ocean. “You didn’t need to go to all of this trouble for me.”

“It was no trouble,” Remus said. “I only wanted you to feel better. You just about broke my heart this afternoon when you said you hadn’t eaten. Was that your first meal today?”

“I had a strawberry teething cracker right before you picked me up,” Sirius said. Remus gave him a soft smile, then hesitated before speaking again

“Want to walk on the beach for a bit?” Remus asked.

“Sure,” Sirius said. They quickly cleared the plates and soon were carefully picking their way down the darkened dunes. The moon was a few days from being full—a blue moon, this month—and shone silvery white across the glassy ocean, illuminating the beach as they walked barefoot on the wet sand. The waves frothed around their toes and ankles, once splashing up to their knees, and they ran up the sloping shoreline, laughing as the water soaked the hems of their shorts. They talked about everything and nothing—their favorite Spice Girl (they both picked Mel B); Mary and Amelia’s honeymoon spot in Botswana; their latest weird dreams; Harry’s newfound confidence in walking; Teddy’s third tooth, sprouting on top.

And eventually, they talked about the thing that Sirius had been thinking about constantly, but hadn’t brought up yet.

“James and I used to come to the beach sometimes with his parents. I hadn't been since then, until I came with you,” Sirius said so quietly that he wasn’t sure Remus would hear him over the waves.

But he did hear him.

“Really? Which one?”

“Brighton,” Sirius said, casting his memory back to the ringing, clanging sounds of the arcade, of tossing chips to seagulls on the pier and sneaking whisky in a flask that they shared at night while they snogged strangers on the sand. He told Remus about all of this and more, surprising himself with every new unearthed memory. They walked on and on, for at least two miles, until they reached a jagged, rocky jetty, before turning around to head back to the house. Sirius’s mind wandered down a winding, rabbit’s warren of memories, and he was happy to take Remus with him.

“What was he like?” Remus asked. “James, I mean.”

“Funny as hell,” Sirius smiled. “Whip-smart, but people didn’t always realize it right away because he came across as kind of a happy-go-lucky jock. Giving, almost to a fault. You could mention that you were cold, and he’d give you his jumper, no hesitation. Just strip it right off and hand it to you. Arrogant sometimes, but so fucking charming about it, that you forgave him and kind of even loved him for it. Could not hold his liquor. Liked to climb things when he got pissed. He tried to climb to the top of the school chapel roof after a few too many ciders when we were 17. Fucking devoted to everyone he loved. Loyal. Loud. Cocky as fuck.”

They were approaching the cottage again. Sirius could see the lights of the kitchen glowing against the dark night. They stopped walking and sank onto the cool sand with their backs to the cottage and gazed out at the sea, rippling black and silver under the moon-bright sky.

“God, I loved him,” Sirius sighed, looking up at the stars. He didn’t know if he believed in heaven. He didn’t think he did. But on nights like this, when James felt so close, so vibrant and alive, he hoped that he was wrong.

“You love him. Present tense,” Remus corrected. “Love like that never ends, Sirius.”

Sirius just nodded and rested his head on Remus’s shoulder with a sigh. Remus tilted his own head against Sirius’s and reached up to stroke his hair, just once.

“He would have liked you,” Sirius said quietly.

No, Sirius realized. James would have loved Remus. Would have loved his foul fucking mouth and loud laugh and “Eh, fuck it,” attitude. You better make this happen, Padfoot, or I’ll take him myself, James would have said. Sirius could hear James’s voice as though it was out loud and not in his imagination.

“I would have liked him, too,” Remus replied.

Sirius wrapped an arm around Remus’s waist and closed his eyes, sinking further into him and his warmth. There was no one here but them this time. No Mrs. Smith or Mrs. Bagshot, no Gilderoy or Teddy calling for Sirius in the night. It was just the two of them, here on the dark, quiet beach. Whatever this was—whether it was friendship or something more—it wasn’t for show. It wasn’t pretend. It was real. And for that, Sirius was grateful. He wanted to stay out here all night, wanted to fall asleep in Remus’s embrace with the cool ocean wind on their faces and the soft sand curving under their bodies. Sirius breathed in the sea and Remus, and reveled in the simple closeness.

Then a sound, unnaturally loud and jarring, blasted through the peaceful moment, and they both startled. Remus’s phone buzzed in his pocket—again—and Remus sighed as he pulled it out, squinting at the brightly glowing screen.

“What the fuck does she want now?” Remus muttered. “She knew we were going out tonight.”

He opened the message and suddenly sat up, his soft, tender body going rigid.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he muttered as his eyes scanned the long brick of text that Sirius hadn’t meant to peek at but did. For some reason the text message and the look on Remus’s illuminated face send an odd prickle up Sirius’s neck.

“Is everything OK?” Sirius asked, his heart thrumming wildly for no apparent reason. A creeping sense of dread closed in around him.

Remus just shook his head as he read. It took him a long time to answer.

“Dora,” he said in an almost whisper, not meeting Sirius’s eye. He looked as though he was struggling to keep his breathing steady. “She says she made a mistake. She wants to try again.”

“Try what again?” Sirius asked slowly, knowing the answer even as he asked the question.

“Our marriage. Being a family,” Remus said, still shaking his head as he read out loud, half to himself, half to Sirius. He sounded as though he was in a daze. “I understand now what a terrible mistake I’ve made. Maybe a part of me always knew and that’s why I didn’t want to finalize our divorce. Seeing you with our son and spending time with you this week has made me realize that I want to spend my life with you and Teddy as a proper family…”

A proper family. That’s exactly what Remus had once told Sirius he wanted. Marriage, commitment. Things that Sirius had written off as a “trap.”

They sat in stunned silence for a full minute, Remus staring down at his phone while Sirius stared at Remus. No, no, no, Sirius wanted to scream. Please, no.

“What are you going to tell her?” Sirius asked, his voice trembling so much he couldn’t have even tried to hide it.

“I…I need,” Remus said, still blinking down at his phone in shock. “I need to call her.”

He finally looked up at Sirius.

“Would you mind just giving me a minute?” he choked out. His face was pale, stricken, and Sirius fought a powerful, dizzying urge to be sick.

“Yeah,” Sirius heard himself say, ignoring the cold, clammy sweat that sprung up on his chest and throat, ignoring the spinning panic that sucked at his insides. “Of course.”

Sirius stood up from the sand and stumbled a little as he walked away further down the beach. The crashing waves seemed thunderously loud all of a sudden, and his breath came in short stabs as he moved, so fast and unaware of his surroundings that he didn’t see someone else approaching across the dark, sandy dunes before he crashed into them.

“Oof!” a voice grunted as they collided, hard. “Oh my—Sirius?”

Sirius stumbled backwards at the impact, nearly losing his footing and grabbing the elbow of the person he’d knocked against. A splash of cold water soaked his bare feet and he looked up.

“Natalie,” he panted, registering Remus’s neighbor’s shadowy face. She was carrying an illuminated lantern in one hand and a heavy metal pail sloshing with seawater in the other. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you.”

“I’d imagine not,” she laughed. “You were moving like a bat out of hell.”

“Sorry,” Sirius said again, but Natalie just shook her head.

“No harm done,” she said. She, too was barefoot, wearing a loosely fitting white linen shirt and flowing beige pants cut above her ankle. The cuffs were wet and sandy, and her gray hair was a little windblown. “I was just razor clamming. Nighttime low tide is the best time for it, you know.”

“Oh,” Sirius nodded, only half listening. He wasn’t sure what a razor clam even was, but he imagined he’d like to learn from Natalie if he hadn’t been so distracted.

“I’m so happy to see you again,” she said. “Is Remus with you?”

“No,” was all Sirius managed to say, looking down at his own sandy feet. He felt his face burning with something. Embarrassment? Sadness? He wasn’t sure. What did it even matter?

Natalie raised her lantern so that it was level with Sirius’s face. It glowed and hissed with the sound of burning propane as Sirius squinted into the light, and Natalie frowned up at him. He got the feeling he was being inspected.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

Sirius nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and nodded again, swallowing down the hard, thick lump in his throat.

“Yeah,” he said in an oddly high-pitched voice, and the lie sounded ridiculous even to his own ears. “Fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” Natalie said slowly, shaking her head. Then her face softened into a knowing smile. “Lovers’ quarrels are normal, Sirius. Ellie and I sometimes—”

“We’re not lovers,” Sirius cut her off, more abruptly than he meant to.

Natalie looked taken aback, but only for a moment. Instead, she continued her inspection of his face, as though trying to make out the letters of a faded message.

“But you want to be,” she said finally.

It wasn’t a question.

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” Sirius said, shaking his head.

“Whatever gave you that idea?” Natalie asked.

“You don’t understand,” Sirius replied, but Natalie only laughed.

“Sirius, I’ve been around the block a few times,” she said. “In fact, I dug up the block and repaved it before you were even born. Why don’t you try me?”

“It’s kind of a long story,” Sirius sighed, but Natalie bent over and put her pail down on the sand with another slosh, then gestured to a long piece of driftwood at the edge of the path.

“The clams will keep,” she said, and sat down. Sirius just stared down at her until she patted the spot beside her. He folded his body down onto the weather-smoothed wood and pressed his hands between his knees without speaking.

“What’s wrong, Sirius?” Natalie asked.

Sirius took a deep breath and explained everything. Meeting Remus at the library, their pretend dating, their playdates, their beach trip, dinner with his neighbors, even the wedding and their kiss. Natalie just listened without saying anything, only nodding along patiently. The more he talked, the more he had to say.

“The hardest part about it, I think,” Sirius said finally with a little shake of his head, “is how much I like him. I mean, I thought he was gorgeous straight away. Like…the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my whole life. But it’s so much more than that now. I love talking to him. I can’t wait to tell him things. I care what he thinks about everything. I miss him when we’re not together.”

Sirius stared at the delicate pink petals of a beach rose as he spoke, and smiled in spite of himself.

“I think he’s just…” he said, searching for a word strong enough to describe what he was feeling. “Magnificent.”

Sirius kept his gaze trained on the rose petals. He felt Natalie watching him, but for some reason, he didn’t feel embarrassed. He felt relieved.

Natalie tilted her head toward him and smiled gently.

“You love him,” she said simply.

And there it was. Finally.

“But he doesn’t love me,” Sirius replied.

“How do you know?”

“Because it’s all pretend,” Sirius said sadly. “He’s told me. Many, many times.”

“And you’ve told him that, too,” Natalie reminded him.

“It’s different,” Sirius said, shaking his head and staring at the dark sand between his feet.

Natalie didn’t answer him right away, only toyed with her delicate gold wedding band, spinning it on her finger.

“Ellie gave this to me when we got married in 2015,” she said finally, still looking down at her ring. “She put it on my finger and promised to love me forever. We were 63 years old. But do you know how long I’d really loved her before then?”

Sirius shook his head. Natalie stopped playing with her ring and smiled up at him instead.

“Since we were 16,” she said with a fond sigh. “I pretended for years not to, even though it hurt every cell in my body to do it. We were just very, very good friends, nothing more. We finally admitted it to each other when we were around 30. Both divorced by then. We had a little too much wine after our kids went to bed, and one thing led to another, and I finally felt whole. But even then, we still hid it from everyone else. For decades. I am an expert at pretending, Sirius. But I don’t want you to be.”

Sirius’s heart broke at the idea of sweet, kind Natalie having to hide the truest parts of herself from the world. But he still wasn’t sure about himself. Remus was in such a tough spot, and Dora was offering him the family he had always wanted. The thought of it made Sirius’s insides churn.

“It’s not fair to tell him,” Sirius said.

“Are you in love with him?”

“Yes,” Sirius said. The answer came quickly and easily, and saying it out loud felt like resting his cheek against the cool side of the pillow. Bright and clean, like the truth always is.

“Then it’s not fair not to tell him,” Natalie replied. “To him or yourself.”

And there was another truth. The simplest things were always the truest.

“Thank you,” Sirius nodded, and hugged Natalie tightly.

“Go find him,” Natalie replied, with a pat on Sirius’s knee. She stood up with a groan, picking up her pail and lantern. “I have some clam prep to get to.”

Sirius kissed her on the cheek and rushed back down the beach, moving with a fire and urgency that he hadn’t ever felt before, and his mind raced. He’d tell Remus, tell him right now. He couldn't wait to tell him everything, that he’d stopped pretending a long time ago. But when he got back to the cottage, Remus wasn’t outside on the beach anymore. He wasn’t on the patio, and he wasn’t in the living room, either.

Sirius searched the downstairs, before pausing in the middle of the kitchen. His heart raced as he looked around the empty house, and then he realized something.

He knew where Remus was.

Sirius raced up the stairs, down the upstairs hallway and through the open attic door, following the light up the wooden staircase, past steamer trunks and stacks of magazines, up the steep ladder until…

“Tell her no.”

Remus wheeled around at the sound of Sirius’s voice, his expression unreadable in the barely lit, window-lined cupola. His mobile phone was still clutched in his hand and his eyebrows knitted together.

“What?” he asked, his eyes darting across Sirius’s as they stood face to face.

“Tell Dora no,” Sirius repeated, his voice more urgent now. “Please.”

“I already did,” Remus said, tossing his phone onto one of the window seats on the other side of the tiny room. He sounded impossibly tired all of a sudden. Weary, more like.

“Oh, thank god,” Sirius said, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“What difference does it make to you?” Remus asked, and Sirius thought he heard the slightest quiver in Remus’s voice.

“It makes all the difference to me,” Sirius said. His heart hammered in his throat, his knees shook, and palms were clammy with nervous sweat, but he pushed through. “I need to tell you something, Remus, something I should have told you a long time ago.”

Remus didn’t say anything, only nodded and tensed his shoulders, as though bracing for some kind of impact.

“I haven’t been pretending,” Sirius said. “With you. It’s not pretend for me anymore.”

Remus nodded again through short, shallow breaths. Sirius waited. And waited.

“Aren’t you going to say anything? Put me out of my misery, Remus.”

Remus took a deep, steadying inhale.

“I know,” he said finally, and Sirius’s eyes widened.

“You do?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Remus whispered, still looking like a deer in headlights, frozen and terrified.

“But how—"

“Sirius,” Remus said. Weary. He sounded weary. “I’m not stupid. And I’m not oblivious. I see the way you look at me, and I feel the way you touch me.”

Sirius was stunned. Of all the ways he expected Remus to reply, this wasn’t one of them. He didn’t know what to say. But Remus still looked stricken. Suddenly the cupola seemed very, very small.

“Do you…do you feel the same way?” Sirius asked, his heart clenching at the prospect of either reply. Yes or no felt equally terrifying.

Remus didn’t look directly at him. Instead, he stared at his hands for a long time. Then, he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and looked up at Sirius with the saddest eyes he’d ever seen.

“No,” he whispered.

Sirius sucked in a breath, a knee-jerk reaction to the simple cruelty of the word. But there was something odd in Remus’s voice. A tone Sirius had heard before. He looked in Remus’s eyes and saw it there, too.

Fear. Sirius recognized it, not only for what it was, but for what it meant.

“You’re lying,” Sirius said, and he was sure. Remus shook his head again, his eyes cast downward once more.

“Sirius, please,” he murmured and tried to turn away, but Sirius grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back.

“No!” Sirius said, indignant now. “I told you the truth! It wasn’t easy, but I did it. And now you’re lying to me. I know you are! You’re still pretending because you’re afraid, just like you did at the wedding. But I’m not stupid, either, Remus. There was nothing fake about that kiss, and you know it.”

Remus finally looked up at him, and there were tears in his eyes.

“Sirius, please don’t do this to me,” he said in a small voice, but Sirius pushed on.

“Tell me the truth.”

“You don’t want that,” Remus said louder, his voice shaking and his eyes bright and wide with unshed tears. “Just stop.”

“Tell me you don’t feel the same way, and I will stop. I’ll never ask again.”

He took a small step toward Remus, but Remus backed away from him, the backs of his knees bumping into the window seat in the tiny cupola.

“You don’t understand,” Remus said, shaking his head.

“Then help me to understand!”

“No!”

“Remus, please.”

“Fine!” Remus finally snapped. His cheeks were flushed and his lips trembled. “You want me to say it? I’ll say it. Yes, I want you! Desperately! More than I’ve ever wanted anyone in my entire life. It’s eating me alive. Are you happy now?”

“Yes!” Sirius exclaimed. “Of course I’m happy! I’m over the fucking moon! If you want me, then have me! I’m literally throwing myself at you!”

“I can’t!” Remus said, shaking his head. The words sounded like they were being scratched out of his chest by force.

“Remus!” Sirius said, gripping him by both shoulders. His fingers dug into the muscle, and he wanted to shake him awake, kiss him so fucking hard that he’d never doubt anything ever again. “This is your life! Fuck the stupid rules! Tell Dora that—”

“It’s not about Dora!” Remus cried, and their faces were inches apart. “If it was, I would have already fucked you until you couldn’t string a sentence together. None of this has to do with her.”

“Then do it! Fuck me into next Friday!” Sirius replied with a crazed laugh, throwing his hands in the air. “What’s stopping you?”

“You are stopping me!” Remus shouted. Sirius gaped at him and took a step back.

“What? Why?”

“Because it wouldn’t just be sex for me, Sirius! Not with you! If I had you once, I’d want you forever. I already do want you forever. And having you without keeping you? Watching you walk away?” Remus gasped for air. His hand flew to his own chest, right over his heart, and his fingers closed around the fabric of his t-shirt, squeezing it in his shaking fist until the knuckles whitened. “It would kill me.”

“Why would I—”

“I didn’t mean to fall in love with you, but I did. I’m sorry,” Remus cut him off, his voice trembling uncontrollably, and Sirius suddenly realized what Remus had been apologizing for the night of the wedding when they laid in bed with Teddy. Remus shook his head helplessly, just like he had that night, and heaved a sob. He struggled to speak through his tears, and Sirius felt his heart cleave in two.

“It’s not your fault,” Remus choked out, looking at him plaintively, the tears painting his cheeks, desperate for Sirius to understand. “You’re wonderful. Everything about you. You’re good and kind, and so fucking beautiful it hurts.”

At this, Remus gritted his eyes shut, as though the hurt was real, physical pain, and he clutched at his chest again.

Sirius knew what that ache felt like. He felt it too. Throbbing. Searing.

“But I can’t be one of your wild oats, Sirius,” Remus continued, opening his eyes again. “I can’t break my own heart, knowing you don’t want me the same way that I want you.”

Sirius felt confusion and panic spiral through him in equal measure as he tried to figure out what the hell Remus was talking about.

“How do you know what I want?” Sirius asked.

Remus looked at him, bewildered, the tears still flowing freely down his face as he answered.

“Because you told me.”

Chapter Text

“What are you talking about?” Sirius asked desperately, searching Remus’s tear-stained face for some explanation. But Remus seemed too tangled in own thoughts to answer.

“I’ve almost given in to it. To my feelings,” Remus continued, closing his eyes and shaking his head. His voice quieted as he spoke, until it was barely a whisper. “So many fucking times. You touch me, and I just…I forget everything. The whole world disappears, and it’s only you. And I think that maybe…maybe I could have you just this once.”

“Remus, you need to listen—” Sirius started, but Remus’s eyes snapped open at the sound of his voice.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m sorry,” Remus stammered, his face flushing so deeply pink that Sirius could see it clearly in the dimly lit cupola. “I’m so sorry, Sirius. I shouldn’t be putting all this on you. You did nothing wrong. You told me—in the clearest possible terms—that you didn’t want a relationship, and I went and fucking fell in love with you anyhow.”

Didn’t want a relationship? Sirius thought. When did he ever say…

And then, with a sickening jolt to his stomach, he remembered. That day at the construction site. They sat next to each other on a bench while Sirius prattled on about sowing his wild oats and escaping his family and how marriage was nothing but a trap.

“Oh, shit, Remus,” Sirius breathed.

“I know,” Remus nodded, his eyes wide, panicked, as though he couldn’t believe everything he’d just said. “I know! I’m so, so fucking sorry.”

His eyes darted around the tiny, glass-walled cupola as though searching for a way out. Sirius’s mind spun, trying to think of the right thing to say, but Remus was too quick.

“I should go. I need to, like, stick my head in the ocean or something,” Remus said with a terrible laugh, and he reeled forward, pushing past Sirius toward the ladder with his eyes fixed on the ground. Their shoulders brushed together, and something in Sirius snapped into focus.

“No,” he said, grabbing Remus and pulling him back.

Remus looked at where Sirius’s fingers curved around his wrist with an expression of pure heartache. His voice shook when he spoke.

“Sirius, please, I already feel like an idiot, I just need—"

“You’re not an idiot,” Sirius replied fiercely. “Listen to me. Look at me.”

Remus lifted his head and their eyes met.

“It would never just be sex with you,” Sirius said. “It would never just be anything with you. It would be everything. You’re everything, Remus. I want to give you everything.”

Remus frowned and shook his head, as though hearing Sirius from a great distance and barely making out the words.

“What are you talking about?”

“I…fuck, I suck at this,” Sirius said, running a clammy palm across his face. He took a deep breath and tried again, looking directly into Remus’s eyes. “I’m in love with you, too, OK? I am batshit crazy, shout-it-from-the-rooftops, head-over-arse, fucking in love with you.”

Remus shook his head in disbelief.

“But you said—”

“I know what I said!” Sirius replied. “I wish I could go back in time so I could drag myself into an alleyway and kick my own arse for saying anything that would make you believe for a single second that I’m not mad about you.”

“No…” Remus said, frowning. “No, you can’t be.”

“Yes, I can be. And I am,” Sirius said, letting go of Remus’s wrist and instead taking a step closer so they were standing inches apart.

Slowly, so slowly, Sirius lifted his hands to gently cup Remus’s face, half afraid that Remus would fly away, like a frightened bird. Remus’s skin was still damp with tears and his eyes glistened in the moonlight that shone through the cupola windows as Sirius’s fingers curved carefully under his jaw and his thumbs brushed against his cheekbones.

Sirius allowed himself one more breath and then—

“I am in love with you,” he whispered again as clearly and carefully as he could.

A tiny gasp escaped Remus’s lungs, as though he finally heard and understood what Sirius was saying.

“You are?” Remus asked with such sweet, wide-eyed astonishment that Sirius couldn’t help but laugh a little. God, he was beautiful.

“How could I not be?” Sirius asked. He looked into Remus’s hopeful, earnest eyes and felt his own heart burst open with everything he was thinking and feeling. “You’re exquisite. Everything about you. I thought you were the most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen from the moment I met you, and at first, that’s all I could think about. Every time we were together, you drove me crazy. I started reciting epic poetry in my mind, just so I wouldn’t fantasize about all of the dirty things I wanted to do with your mouth.”

“Well, that explains the Beowulf,” Remus whispered with a weak little laugh.

“You knew?” Sirius asked.

Remus pulled his lower lip between his teeth in that sexy way of his and laughed again.

“You said some of it out loud,” he said.

Sirius laughed, too, and leaned their foreheads together, breathing Remus in for a moment more before continuing. He lifted his head to look at Remus again and slid one hand to the back of his neck, pushing his fingers into the soft curls at the nape. Remus’s eyes dropped shut for a moment as he leaned his head back into Sirius’s palm, his lips parting slightly and his breath hitching.

“I still think about all the things I want to do with your mouth,” Sirius murmured, tracing across Remus’s jaw and dragging a thumb across the soft skin of his lower lip, just to touch it, finally.

To Sirius's surprise, Remus’s tongue darted out, catching the tip of Sirius’s thumb before he continued running his fingers down the curve of Remus’s neck and over his throat. Remus’s body arched slightly, seemingly involuntarily, his chest rising and falling hard and fast, and Sirius felt sparking heat ripple and pulse through his entire body.

“But it’s so much more than that now,” Sirius continued, and their eyes met again. Sirius’s fingers found the edge of the thin scar underneath the collar of Remus’s t-shirt, and he traced it slowly, leaning forward to brush his lips along Remus’s collarbone and whisper against his skin. “I love just spending time with you. I love making you laugh. I love being there when you’re crying and helping you feel better. I love being able to tell you anything.”

Sirius felt a firm pressure on his lower back as Remus’s hands slid underneath the hem of his t-shirt, warm and wanting, twisting the soft fabric between his fingers and drawing them closer until their hips pressed together maddeningly. Sirius’s mouth ghosted upward, across Remus’s Adam’s apple and settling just underneath the hinge of his jaw. Sirius barely touched Remus’s skin, but goosebumps erupted beneath his lips with every word he breathed against his neck.

“I love watching you with Teddy and Harry, and reminding you that you’re the best fucking dad on earth,” Sirius said, his voice scarcely a whisper. Remus’s skin was warm against his lips as he spoke, and Sirius felt dizzy, intoxicated, with one hand tangled in Remus’s hair and the other roving slowly across the firm muscles of his back. “I love your girl-band t-shirts and your weird fucking minivan. I love that you love your parents and are kind to my neighbors. I love your freckles and your messy hair. I love listening to you talk about maths, for fuck’s sake.”

Sirius tilted his chin upward with a hot, heavy sigh. He took Remus’s earlobe between his teeth and rolled his hips forward, and the chest-deep moan that fell from Remus’s lips was the most erotic thing he’d ever heard in his life. Remus’s hands curled into Sirius’s lower back, his fingernails scratching the skin, as Sirius spoke along the shell of his ear.

“There isn’t a single part of you, inside or out, that I’m not completely and utterly besotted with,” Sirius said. He untangled his hand from Remus’s hair with a gentle tug that drew a soft little whimper from Remus’s throat, and slid it downward, over Remus’s shoulder blades, down the swoop of his lower back, and resting just atop the perfect swell of his arse. “And I can’t imagine living another day without you knowing that.”

Remus’s breath came in warm, erratic little puffs against Sirius’s neck and he didn’t reply right away. Instead, he dropped Sirius’s t-shirt from his fist and slowly ran his fingertips up Sirius’s back, across his shoulder, and down his arm until their fingers laced together. Then, he drew their joined hands upward to his lips and ran warm, slow, open-mouthed kisses across Sirius’s fingers.

Then, Remus’s lips parted and he drew Sirius’s index finger into his mouth with the slowness of sweetly dripping honey. He closed his eyes and sucked, swirling his tongue around the tip and dragging his teeth along the pad before drawing it back out, wet and slick, down his lower lip and over his chin. Sirius watched, transfixed, suddenly aware of his stiff cock straining, rock-hard, against his shorts.

“I want you always,” Remus whispered against Sirius’s fingers as their hips skimmed together.

“So do I,” Sirius replied, his breath stuttering as he grinded forward, chasing more pressure and friction and finding it immediately. Remus’s cock was thick and bulging, and the promise of it stole Sirius’s breath. He felt lightheaded with longing, but he pressed on, needing Remus to hear just one more thing.

“You said something that day, too,” Sirius said, even as he struggled to string the words together. “That you hoped falling in love would make everything feel different. And it does feel different. It does.”

He spoke the last words in a moan, as Remus pressed himself against the length of Sirius’s body and slid his hands over his arse, cupping hard and tugging their hips so they pressed together. Sirius couldn’t help the desperate, needy sounds that huffed out of him as they moved against each other. They were closer than ever now, sharing energy, sharing breath.

“It feels different for me, too,” Remus breathed, his lips grazing Sirius’s as he spoke.

“I never want to let you go, Remus. Ever,” Sirius replied, their lips brushing together with every syllable.

“God, Sirius, the things you say,” Remus moaned, his eyes falling shut. “I’m so fucking in love with you.”

At Remus’s words, the fire inside Sirius’s chest became too blazing to contain. Every feeling, every spark of longing, every bone-deep ember of desire blasted free and ignited, powerful and hot. Sirius surged forward and Remus did, too, their lips meeting in a burning, searing kiss, like hot, licking flame. No kiss had ever felt like this before. It rippled through Sirius’s entire body, possessing him, seizing him, as their lips and tongues slid together, open-mouthed and desperate.

Their hands and fingers gripped each other’s limbs, scrabbling to touch every inch at once, pulling each other closer, as close as they could be. Sirius ran his hands into Remus’s silky curls and closed his fists, drawing a whining moan from Remus’s chest that vibrated through his lips. Sirius felt it against his tongue. It made his mouth water and he and wanted more, so much more. He longed to savor and swallow every sound, every drip of sweat, every thrumming heartbeat that he pulled from Remus’s body.

“Get this off,” Remus breathed madly, his fingers scrabbling at the hem of Sirius’s t-shirt, yanking it over his head, and tossing it aside. He sighed at the sight of Sirius’s bare chest and pressed his palms to it, kissing and sucking over the muscle like he wanted to devour him raw. “Fuck, that day at the beach…I still don’t know how I didn’t take you right then in the sand. You’re like a god, Sirius.”

Sirius pulled Remus’s shirt off him, too, and their lips crashed together again, their bare chests meeting, hot and hard. Sirius ran his hands up and across Remus’s back, the skin practically sparking underneath his fingers, and he walked Remus backwards until his legs hit the window seat. He stumbled back and Sirius took his opportunity, pushing him down and straddling his lap, sliding his knees over the cushion on either side of Remus’s hips, opening his legs, and pressing hard against him.

“Fuck, Sirius, you have no idea the things you do to me,” Remus moaned in between feverish, messy kisses. His hands closed around Sirius’s arse and he thrust his hips upward, desperate, needing.

“I have some idea,” Sirius replied, grinding down, hard, and latching his mouth onto the sensitive skin of Remus’s neck, just behind his ear.

“Good god,” Remus groaned, as Sirius sucked a bruising, possessive mark into the smooth, golden skin, working the flesh against his tongue and teeth. Remus tipped his head back, and it thudded against the cupola’s dark, windowed wall. Sirius circled his hips as he licked and sucked, rubbing their hard cocks together through the fabric of their shorts, harder and deeper, but it wasn’t enough. He needed more; he was ravenous for more, more.

Sirius’s fingers flew between their grinding hips, scrabbling at the button and zipper on Remus’s shorts, but his mind intervened and he forced himself to stop. Instead, Sirius gripped and pulled at the waistband and breathed a few steadying breaths against Remus’s neck before sitting up.

“I’m sorry, Remus. Are we going too fast?” Sirius panted, examining Remus’s face carefully. He looked lust-drunk and gorgeous, sinful in the shadowy moonlight, with his heavy eyelids, finger-tangled hair, and shiny, kiss-swollen lips.

“What?” Remus asked dizzily, looking up at Sirius with a confused furrow of his eyebrows.

Sirius wanted to answer him with a clear mind, but how could he, with Remus laid out underneath him like a perfect, golden feast? He ran his hands over Remus’s chest and the muscles of his stomach and dipped his head to lick a warm, wet trail along the thin line of his scar. Remus gasped and arched against him, as Sirius traced his tongue along Remus’s hot, salty skin. Fuck, he had to stop. He kissed along Remus’s neck once more before making himself sit up again and took Remus’s face in his hands.

“I just want to be careful. And I want you to be sure,” Sirius tried to finish, but he couldn’t help himself, he’d waited so long. He let out a tortured little whimper and leaned down again to capture those perfect lips in another kiss. They were full and soft, slick and warm, and it was another torturous effort to break away. He started to sit up again, and Remus captured Sirius’s lower lip between his teeth, pulling him back, and Sirius moaned into his mouth. But he had to say this, he had to. He took another few heaving breaths and spoke again.

“You were so nervous,” Sirius said. “About me and all the stupid shit I said about relationships. I don’t want to make you feel rushed into anything or make you doubt my intentions. I love you so much. I never want to hurt you or make you worry or wonder. We can stop right now if you want to and just…just take it slow.”

He breathed heavily, trying to calm his throbbing dick and racing heart, as Remus looked up at him, astonished. Then his face broke into a small smile.

“If I had any doubts before, they’re gone now,” he said. Then, his smile curved into something darker, hungrier, and he added in a low voice that Sirius felt in his veins, “I am going to eat you alive.”

They stared at each other for a heartbeat longer before crashing into each other again, and all hesitation—all rational thought—was obliterated from Sirius’s mind. It was only Remus, Remus, Remus, as their fingers fumbled at buttons and zippers, yanked shorts and boxers over hips, and tossed them away.

***

Sirius’s cock ached as it bobbed free next to Remus’s gorgeous, perfect thickness that stood straight up, stiff and straining. Sirius was harder than he’d ever been in his life as their naked bodies grinded against each other and they kissed and kissed and kissed, wet and filthy. Remus reached down and took them together in his huge hand and ran a thumb over both the heads, mixing their pre-come and sliding it around together. Sirius’s vision nearly whited right then, pleasure coiling fast and hot in his belly, as Remus’s hand pumped and their hips rose and fell together. A small bead of sweat rolled down Remus’s neck. Sirius’s tongue darted out to taste it, and suddenly he wanted more. He pulled Remus’s hand off their cocks and sucked his thumb into his mouth, tasting them both together.

“Oh fuck, Sirius,” Remus said, and before Sirius registered what was happening, strong hands closed around his arms and Remus had flipped them. He sunk to his knees, spread Sirius’s legs open with his palms pressed to his inner thighs, and sank his hot, tight lips over the head of Sirius’s cock. He licked at the wetness along the slit, swirled his tongue around, and swallowed, taking Sirius’s full length right down his throat.

“Ahhh!” Sirius moaned. The slide of Remus’s lips and tongue made his mind fuzz as Remus worked him with only his mouth, tightening his lips and pressing his tongue upward against the vein on every plunge. Sirius felt his pleasure peaking, rolling like a building wave about to crash against the shore, and he was torn between allowing it to overtake him or trying to drag out this moment longer. But before he could think about it too long, he felt Remus suck his own finger into his mouth alongside Sirius’s cock. He wet it generously, then pulled it out and pressed it underneath Sirius’s balls, along his perineum, and against his tight, sensitive hole.

Sirius gasped at the incredible sensation. It had been more than a year since anyone besides himself or a plug had touched there, and even when they had, it had never felt anything close to this. Sirius’s legs fell open more and he arched his hips forward and up, hungry and eager, as Remus slowly slid his finger inside. It was tight and a little dragging with only spit for lube, but somehow, that made it even better as it plunged in and out, in and out. Sirius could feel everything, every movement, undiminished, and even more when Remus gathered more spit and slid in another thick finger. Sirius moaned as the burning stretch of Remus’s fingers melted into pure bliss, and Sirius wished that Remus could fill him completely.

Sirius gasped and writhed again as Remus’s fingers curved upward. He pressed that perfect spot inside him, pushing in deep and stroking relentlessly, while his lips slid over the head of Sirius’s sensitive cock, plunging up and down, swallowing him fully. Remus groaned with his own pleasure at the feeling of Sirius’s hot body contracting around him and moaned again as Sirius’s cock slid down his throat, looking up at him with an expression that was dark and starving.

Holy fuck, Sirius thought, marveling at the incredible realization that Remus was enjoying this just as much as he was. Sirius ran his fingers into Remus’s hair and pulled, and Sirius felt another deep moan vibrate around his dick. Every sensation felt electrified, magnified, and Sirius’s orgasm built and built, fast and powerful. But just before he was about to spill into Remus’s mouth, Remus stilled, gripping the base of his cock tightly and halting his release. Sirius whined loudly, arching back as Remus withdrew his fingers too, with a slow, torturous drag, and instead climbed up Sirius’s body and settled himself onto his lap.

Remus hand curved powerfully underneath Sirius’s jaw and pulled his face upward for a wild, unbridled kiss. Sirius was hard nearly to the point of discomfort and dribbling pre-come as their cocks slid together again, and he thought he would faint from the sheer force of his desire.

“God, I want to fuck you,” Remus panted into his mouth, and Sirius felt his body about to explode.

“Yes, yes, I want that,” Sirius moaned harshly, his voice knife-sharp with the jagged edges of his climax that was still building, even now. He gripped Remus’s bare arse, digging his fingers into the flesh, and bit into his throat. Remus arched eagerly into Sirius’s teeth as he panted his reply.

“I don’t have anything, do you?” he asked.

“Umm,” Sirius thought, his mind fuzzy. “Travel lube. In my wallet. Unless it’s expired?”

Remus laughed and nibbled at Sirius’s lower lip.

“Does lube expire?” Remus asked.

“No fucking clue,” Sirius said. His eyes found Remus’s in the dim light, and his voice shook as he spoke again. “I don’t have a condom, and you can say no but…I haven’t been with anyone in over a year and, all my tests are clean.”

Remus nodded and kissed him.

“Yes, fuck yes, me too,” Remus moaned. “I want that if you do.”

“Oh my god, yes,” Sirius replied, and his cock swelled at the mere thought of it. He pulled Remus closer, wrapping his arms around his waist so their chests were flush. Sirius felt lost in Remus’s touch, his skin, his scent, everything. He wanted to live inside him.

“Go, go get it,” Remus panted, scrambling off Sirius’s lap to let him stand up. Sirius crawled forward off the window seat and fumbled with his shorts until he found the little packet in his wallet, then startled at the feeling of Remus’s teeth grazing against his arse cheek.

“Next time,” Remus promised from his knees as Sirius turned to look at him. “I’m gonna eat you out until your legs turn to jelly.”

Sirius almost fainted, right then and there—and he’d argue that his legs were already perilously close to becoming jelly—but instead, he crawled across Remus’s body until Remus’s shoulders hit the back of the window seat in the tiny cupola. He took Remus’s gorgeous, flushed cock into his mouth in one swift motion, gripping the long, thick shaft in his fist while he knelt between his knees. Remus gasped in surprise, his chest rising and falling heavily as he watched every movement of Sirius’s mouth and hands.

Sirius worked him for just a few minutes before pulling off again. He wanted—needed—Remus inside of him. Their eyes met, and, without speaking, Remus sat up on the widow seat and pulled Sirius up onto his lap. Sirius ripped open the lube with his teeth and squeezed it onto his shaking hand. He stroked down the length of Remus’s cock before reaching between his legs and spreading the rest on himself. Then, he sat up on his knees, pulled Remus’s cock into his fist, and positioned himself over it, feeling it nudge against his already mostly worked open hole.

“Do you need more prep?” Remus started to ask, but the words died in his throat with a moan as Sirius slowly slid straight onto Remus’s cock. Sirius probably could have used a bit more prep, but fuck, he wanted Remus now, right now. He wanted to feel every inch of him pushing and stretching him open. Remus’s head tipped back as Sirius sunk lower, and the pleasure-pain was just this side of too much, too much, too much as he slid deeper and deeper inside until their hips were flush and Remus was sheathed in him to the hilt.

Sirius’s breath was fast and shallow as he got used to the stretch, and Remus kissed slowly up and down his neck, wrapping his arms around Sirius's back while they slowed their movements together.

“Breathe, baby, breathe,” Remus whispered into Sirius’s sweaty hair, and Sirius could hear the strain in his voice. “Are you OK?”

“So good,” Sirius panted, tilting his head sideways so their cheeks pressed together. He closed his eyes and breathed, deeply and slowly, burying his face in Remus’s sweet-smelling hair and savoring every second of this moment. The cupola was quiet except for their breathing, their chests rising and falling against each other, and the sound of the dark, crashing waves outside. Moonlight pooled across Remus’s shoulders as it shone silvery white through the mullioned windows, which glistened and dripped with steam all around them.

Sirius canted his hips forward and rolled them in circles, lifting his head to kiss Remus slowly and deeply, licking across the scar on Remus's upper lip. He raised himself up onto his knees and sank back down, and he and Remus moaned in unison. Nothing and no one had ever felt so good, so right. Sirius felt Remus everywhere, their bodies pressed and sliding together, inside and out, their arms wrapped around each other, pulling closer with every movement. Sirius’s thighs shook with the exquisite effort of lifting himself up and down, harder and harder on Remus’s cock.

“Let me,” Remus said, stilling him with a kiss. He slid his hands down to Sirius’s hips, angled himself just right, and fucked up into Sirius with deep, firm thrusts, so that every drag of his long cock pressed against his prostate perfectly.

“Yes, god, right there, Remus, god,” Sirius moaned, a string of gibberish falling from his lips while Remus punched cry after incoherent cry out of his lungs.

Remus craned his neck upward as Sirius rode him, gripping his arse with one hand and wrapping an arm around his waist with the other, and kissed him again. Sirius leaned a hand forward against the window for better leverage, and it slipped up and down against the wet glass, leaving long fingerprints as Remus fucked him again and again and again.

He was close, so close, just from getting fucked so perfectly, and Sirius felt his orgasm building and building, about to explode, when Remus reached between their bodies and wrapped his long fingers around Sirius’s cock. He dragged his thumb over the slippery head and stroked downward only three times before Sirius’s body tensed and rocked with an orgasm so powerful his entire body arched and tightened as he spilled, hot and hard over Remus’s hand with a cry that tore at his throat.

At the very same moment, he felt the hot spill of Remus’s come filling him and his orgasm throbbed on, harder still, pulsing more and more come between them. It dripped off their stomachs and between their legs as they slid together, messily falling into another kiss, not ready, quite yet, to break apart. It should have felt gross, but it didn’t somehow. Instead, it made Sirius feel closer to Remus than ever, sharing in this intimate, vulnerable act. They kissed and held each other for a long time, until Remus’s cock slid out of Sirius’s body on its own and they just breathed together, their skin cooling but still warm where they touched.

 ***

Finally, Remus tilted his head back and gazed up into Sirius’s face.

“I love you,” he whispered. The words were so simple. Three tiny syllables. I. Love. You. But they were everything.

“I love you, too,” Sirius replied, and to his surprise, he felt his eyes prickle with happy tears. Remus leaned up to gently kiss his eyelids, then closed his eyes and leaned their foreheads together for a moment longer before sitting up again. He kissed Sirius’s forehead, then the tip of his nose, and eased him off his lap.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go get cleaned up.”

And he took Sirius by the hand and led him downstairs.

The next morning dawned bright and crisp, with more than a hint of autumn on the sea breeze that blew across their naked bodies in the soft light of sunrise. Sirius stretched luxuriously next to Remus, whose beautiful golden body practically glowed against the white sheets and watery, whitewashed walls of the cottage bedroom. He couldn’t remember ever having slept better than he had that night, his body pleasantly exhausted and sated, scrubbed clean with Remus in a hot shower, and held safe and close, all night long.

Sirius had never slept next to almost anyone but James or his brother. In all his years of debauchery, he’d never let anyone stay overnight at his flat and certainly would never have deigned to sleep in anyone else’s bed if he could help it, save for a few nights when he overindulged and fell asleep before he could make a better decision. Even then, he’d always slip out well before morning without a second look or an ounce of guilt or regret.

But like with everything else, Remus was different. Sleeping next to him, in his arms, feeling his warm skin against his, felt like a balm to his soul, offering him a stillness and completeness that he’d never known before. His racing mind quieted; his heart rate slowed. Here, in this bed with Remus, Sirius felt at peace, and it was incredible.

They’d texted Remus’s mother the night before that they’d be picking up the boys in the morning, and she’d replied only with two emojis: A flame and a winking face. Remus laughed as he showed Sirius, his cheeks pink and sweet, while they climbed into bed together.

“She fucking knows everything and always has,” Remus said, pulling Sirius into his arms for another kiss, then running his hand through his hair with such a profound look of affection, Sirius thought his heart would beat right out of his chest.

“I hope you don’t get tired of me kissing and touching you every chance I get,” Remus said. “I feel like I need to make up for the past month.”

“Never,” Sirius said, and they sank into each other’s arms against the cool, fluffy pillows. He settled his cheek against Remus’s chest and felt his entire body relax even more. It felt wonderful, and so, so natural. “I wonder how much cleaning the upholstery on that window seat will need in the morning.”

Remus laughed and kissed the top of Sirius’s head.

“Yeah, we might have some scrubbing to do,” Remus said with a yawn. “Although it wouldn’t be the first time I got come all over those cushions.”

“I thought you never brought anyone else up there?” Sirius asked, lifting his head off Remus’s chest questioningly.

“I didn’t. But I did have an inordinate number of pathetic Pirates of the Caribbean wanks in that room,” Remus said. "The poor seagulls who had to watch."

“Shiver your timbers, indeed,” Sirius deadpanned, and Remus snorted a laugh.

“If only I could have told my teenage self that someday I’d be shagging the most beautiful man to ever walk the earth up in that cupola,” Remus mused. “Not that I would have believed it.”

“Why not?”

“Ugh, I was such a little math-loving dweeb, always getting dragged around by my mother’s coven,” Remus laughed, then tilted his head to gaze adoringly at Sirius. “I bet you were beautiful right from the womb.”

Sirius shrugged.

”It’s a curse,” he said.

They both laughed again, sinking into another kiss and each other, and eventually sweet, blissful sleep.

Now, with the sun shining weakly through the gauzy white curtains, Sirius pressed a kiss to Remus’s sleeping face and quietly slipped out of bed. He wanted to make breakfast like Remus had done for him, even if all he could manage was coffee and toast. He clicked the bedroom door shut quietly behind him and walked downstairs, where he found their dirty plates from the night before still sitting in the sink.

He did the dishes and cleaned the entire kitchen before putting on a pot of coffee and searching through the bags from the market for the last of the bread from the night before. Maybe he’d make French toast, he mused, and opened his phone to search for a recipe, when he heard the crunch of gravel in the driveway outside. He frowned and looked at the microwave clock. It was only 8:30 in the morning. Maybe Remus’s auntie was getting home early from California, he thought, and peaked out the window, pushing aside the curtain to look.

But it wasn’t Remus’s auntie.

Instead, a pink-haired head was bending over the passenger seat of a silver Volvo. Sirius’s stomach fell as he stepped out from the window. He stood for a moment in the quiet kitchen, where the only sounds were his pounding heartbeat, the dripping coffee, and fast footsteps making their way up the walkway. He couldn't believe this. But his shock quickly turned to annoyance, and within seconds it had flared into real anger.

She had done enough.

Sirius crossed the kitchen and pushed open the screen door with both hands, stepping barefoot onto the porch.

“Sirius,” Dora said triumphantly, folding her arms across her chest and staring at him from the walkway. "I had a feeling I'd find you here."

“Good morning, Dora,” Sirius said, fixing her with a cold, unflinching look. "I hope you slept well. I sure did."

Then, he leaned against the porch railing and slung his hands into the pockets of Remus’s basketball shorts.

He hoped she recognized them.

Chapter Text

Dora looked as though she’d rushed out of bed to get to the cottage as fast as she could. Her hair was in a messy ponytail and she wore pink satin pajamas with flip-flops. Her shirt was nearly halfway open, with the top buttons undone, and Sirius wondered if he’d just highjacked some ill-considered seduction attempt.

She looked Sirius up and down and pursed her lips sourly.

“Spent the night, did you?” she asked, her eyes lingering on Remus’s basketball shorts and Breeders t-shirt that hung loosely on Sirius’s body. “Had a good time?”

Sirius smiled and tilted his head sideways, the better to emphasize the dark red hickeys bitten across his neck.

“The best,” he replied. “I’d ask you in for coffee, but I was just about to make breakfast for Remus. I thought I might bring it back to bed for him. He worked really hard last night.”

Dora huffed a bitter, humorless laugh and shook her head.

“You have a lot of nerve, Sirius,” she said, “standing there in front of me like that right now.”

“Funny, I was thinking the very same thing about you, showing up here, unannounced, at 8:30 in the morning,” Sirius said, trying valiantly to keep the boiling anger out of his voice.

“Remus and I have things to discuss,” Dora snapped. “Things about our family that have nothing to do with you.”

Sirius folded his arms across his chest, mimicking Dora’s stance, as a powerful surge of protectiveness blazed inside him.

“Didn’t you and Remus already have a very clear discussion last night?” he asked.

Dora looked momentarily surprised to hear that Sirius was privy to that information.

“I had a feeling that someone was clouding his judgement,” she replied, looking him up and down again. “And I was right.”

“Remus’s judgement is fine. You just didn’t respect anything he said.”

Dora blanched, but she recovered quickly, schooling her expression into one of cool annoyance.

“This is none of your business,” she said.

“Actually, it’s very much my business when someone tries to ambush my sleeping boyfriend.”

“I think you mean my sleeping husband.”

“Ex-husband, Dora,” Sirius reminded her.

Dora’s jaw clenched, and she glared at Sirius as though she wanted to run him over with her car.

“Who do you think you are?” she demanded. “You don’t know anything about him, or me, or our son, so why don’t you just stay out of it? And don’t give me this ‘my boyfriend’ shit. I asked around about you, Sirius Black. I know your reputation. Like you could ever commit to anyone. I should go inside and warn Remus about you right now.”

“You could,” Sirius mused with a laugh, toying with the drawstring on Remus’s basketball shorts. “But I think he’d be pretty annoyed to wake up to your face in his bedroom instead of mine.”

“Maybe,” Dora snarled. “But he has a right to know whose bed he stumbled into.”

Sirius felt his skin prickle with indignant anger. Stumbled? As though the beautiful night he and Remus had spent together was some stupid, drunken mistake? Sirius’s heart ached as he thought of Remus—sweet, caring, selfless Remus—tearing himself apart for weeks, ignoring his own feelings for the sake of Sirius’s. Remus was always ignoring his own feelings, always choosing others instead of himself.

“There was no stumbling involved,” Sirius said clearly, looking straight into Dora’s eyes. “Quite the opposite, actually.”

“Oh, great, so he did this on purpose,” Dora said, nodding bitterly. “I’m sure he didn’t bother telling you what we agreed on. He promised no dating while we figured things out between us.”

Sirius barked a laugh. He couldn’t help it. The gall of her. The fucking nerve.

“Figured things out?” Sirius repeated. “Is that what you call this? You’ve been stringing him along and holding him hostage for a year because you know he’d do anything for Teddy. He’s bent over backwards to keep you happy and done everything you’ve asked of him, just to make sure that you’d be a part of Teddy’s life. And you barely even do that. So don’t talk to me about the things that you’ve agreed on, Dora.”

“You’re an arsehole,” Dora said, narrowing her eyes and shaking her head.

“Yeah, I won’t argue with you there,” Sirius agreed. “And I’ll keep on being one as long as you keep treating Remus like this.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know enough,” Sirius said, and by the look on Dora’s face, he knew he didn’t need to remind her of all the times she’d bailed on Remus and Teddy.

“I’m a single mother! I’m doing this all alone!” Dora spat, jabbing a finger into her chest as she spoke. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to—”

But suddenly, she stopped herself. Her cheeks and neck flushed a blotchy magenta as she realized what she was about to say and to whom she was about to say it.

“How hard it is to what?” Sirius asked, the challenge in his voice razor sharp. “Go ahead and finish the sentence, Dora.”

Dora didn’t say anything, just swallowed hard, her eyes darting over Sirius’s shoulder and then back to his face. Sirius waited, but still, she didn’t speak.

“I’ll finish it for you, then,” Sirius said finally. “Yes, I know how hard it is to raise a baby alone. My best friend was killed, and I became a father overnight. I didn’t have any warning or anyone holding my hand. I didn’t even have time to grieve. And I certainly didn’t have anyone I could call at midnight, demanding that they come pick up Harry because I couldn’t handle the crying anymore.”

“That’s not fair, it’s hard for me, and—” Dora started, but Sirius cut her off.

“Yeah! It is hard!” he said. “And it sucks, a lot of the time. It’s lonely and it’s exhausting. And no one is there to say thank you, or tell you you’re doing a good job. But you put your head down and keep going because you love that fucking kid. I’m not perfect, and I’m probably screwing up Harry in ways that I can’t even imagine. But I’m there, every day and every night, and I always will be.”

“I’m doing my best!” Dora said, but again, Sirius pushed back. Something in him had snapped as he thought of Harry and Teddy and their sweet innocence.

“Are you?” Sirius demanded. “Or are you taking advantage of the fact that Remus will always be there to rescue you? He’ll never say no to you when it comes to Teddy, and you know it. You want to talk about stumbling into someone’s bed? Do you know how lucky you are? Do you realize that you won the fucking lottery with him? You couldn’t have dreamed of a better father for Teddy. Meanwhile, you’ve got one foot in and one foot out, keeping poor Remus dangling by a thread. You don’t actually want him, but you sure as hell don’t want anyone else to have him.”

“That’s not true,” Dora said, and Sirius thought he heard a slight tremble in her voice, cracks in her defiance.

“OK, then,” Sirius shrugged. “Why do you suddenly want him now?”

“It’s not sudden, it’s…it’s…” Dora sputtered, looking around wildly. “I just realized that…maybe I—"

But Sirius had had enough.

“Do you love him?” he asked.

She stopped midsentence with a little gasp. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again and didn’t answer. Instead, she just shook her head and looked at the ground.

“It’s complicated—” she started to say, but Sirius interrupted her again.

“No,” he said. “It’s very simple. Do you love Remus?”

Her eyes snapped back to Sirius. She looked at him for a long time before answering. But when she did, it was with a question of her own.

“Do you?” she asked.

Sirius’s answer came quickly and easily.

“Yeah,” he nodded, and he couldn’t help the little smile that crossed his face at saying it out loud. He loved Remus. He loved him, and it was wonderful, like the purest, brightest joy.

“I do love him,” Sirius continued. “And he loves me. He’s a good man and the best father, and he deserves to be with someone who really loves him, not just the idea of him.”

Dora looked down at her fingers, twisting them nervously and picking at her nails, but she didn’t reply.

“I assume you care about him,” Sirius said, and this time, Dora answered without hesitation.

“Of course!” she said.

Their eyes met and some strange understanding passed between them.

“Then let him go,” Sirius said.

Dora bit her lip and the flush returned to her cheeks. Her voice shook, and her eyes brimmed with tears.

“But…but what if I lose Teddy, too?” she asked quietly, and Sirius knew that only honest, raw panic could have pulled such a desperate question from her lips.

“You won’t,” Sirius said gently. “Just love him and be there for him. Don’t give up, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.”

She gave a humorless, teary laugh as she looked up at him.

“That’s easy for you to say,” she sniffed. “You and Remus are different. It…it comes naturally to you. Being dads. It’s like you were just born knowing what to do.”

Sirius stared at her in disbelief. He was always fumbling, always second-guessing himself, always worrying that every choice was the wrong one.

“I don’t know what I’m doing half the time,” he said. “Most of the time, I’m just making up as I go.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Dora said with a pleading, defeated note in her voice. “You just have something that I don’t. Maybe I’m not cut out to be someone’s mother. Not everyone is.”

Sirius looked at her, disheveled and crying in the weak morning sunlight, wearing her half-unbuttoned pink satin pajamas, and suddenly thought of his own mother, who was cold and cruel, who cared only for appearances, who exercised her authority with the back of her hand. Sirius was never hugged, never sung to, never laughed with, never told he was loved. He was the heir, bred for carrying on a title and ensuring the continuance of the family line, nothing more.

In that case, Dora was right. Some people were not cut out to be mothers.

Sirius looked at Dora again, taking in her worried, tear-streaked face. He knew that for all her faults, she wasn’t like that. Whatever else she was, whatever other shortcomings she had, he was sure, at the very least, that she loved Teddy.

And then, out of nowhere, James floated into his mind, elbowing his way right to the front. James, who was the first person to give Sirius real, unconditional love, who showed him what love was and what it meant, and whose capacity for it was boundless, stretching infinitely to fit everyone. James, who put his whole heart into everything.

“Maybe you’re not cut out for some of it,” Sirius conceded. “But you can give what you have. Just give it with your whole heart.”

Dora nodded and swallowed, then sniffed and wiped her face with the back of her hand.

“I should go,” she mumbled. She pulled the keys from her pajama pocket and started to walk back toward her car. Sirius watched her go. A part of him wanted to go pull her into a hug, but he didn’t. Maybe they’d cobbled together some tentative peace, but he wasn’t ready to hug her quite yet.

Dora was just putting her hand on the car door handle when she stopped and turned back to him.

“You, umm…you don’t need to mention that I was here, alright?” she said. “To Remus? You don’t need to tell him.”

Sirius sighed and shook his head.

“I won’t lie to him,” he told her. “But I guess I don’t need to bring it up, either.”

“Thanks,” she sighed. She tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace. “And for the record, I do know how lucky I am. I hope you do, too.”

“I definitely do,” he nodded.

And with that, she got into her car and drove away down the long gravel driveway. Sirius watched her go, thinking of all the things he didn’t say, all the things he held back for the sake of not upsetting Remus. He was tempted to forget all about breakfast, to just crawl back into bed with Remus and hold him close all morning. He felt fiercely protective, like he wanted to shield him from any hurt from now on.

He opened the screen door and stepped back into the quiet kitchen, lost in thought, only to come face to face with Remus. As always, he was heart-stoppingly, breathtakingly gorgeous, and Sirius wondered whether he’d ever stop marveling at that fact, as the early morning sunlight streamed in through the kitchen window, lighting up his golden curls like a halo. He greeted Sirius with that slow, sexy grin of his, looking soft and sleep-rumpled in his dark glasses, t-shirt, and shorts, the edge of a hickey just visible underneath his collar.

Like every other time Sirius was caught unawares by Remus’s insane, devastating handsomeness, it nearly knocked the wind out of his lungs. But this time, he could do something about it. He took Remus by the hand and pulled him into a slow, mind-melting kiss. Remus hummed happily into it, and kissed him back, wrapping his arms around Sirius’s waist and pulling him close.

“Morning,” Remus said softly.

“Good morning,” Sirius whispered back, kissing him again and again. “I’m so happy I finally get to kiss you now.”

Remus smiled against his lips with yet another kiss.

“Mmm, I was thinking the same thing,” he replied, his warm body softening into Sirius’s before gazing at him with wonder. “Don't laugh, but every time I see you, I have to reacclimate myself to how beautiful you are. Do you know how hard it’s been for me not to have my hands all over you every fucking day that we’ve spent together?”

Sirius laughed at the thought of himself desperately reciting Beowulf while Remus was quietly and secretly coming undone, too. Someday, Sirius thought, he’d tell Remus about how he “forced” himself to stare at pictures of Remus’s naked chest in an effort to desensitize himself to his blinding hotness.

“I can’t believe I’m allowed to touch you whenever I want,” Remus breathed, kissing up Sirius’s neck, grazing his lips and tongue across the purple bruises he left there the night before, making little cascades of goosebumps shiver over his skin. “With your consent, of course.”

“Consider this your blanket permission to do whatever you want to me, whenever you want to do it,” Sirius replied, threading his fingers into Remus’s hair and stealing yet another kiss. He felt drunk with the feeling of Remus under his hands and under his lips, finally.

“Alright then, I’ll keep that in mind,” Remus said, slipping his hands into the pockets of Sirius’s shorts and backing him against the kitchen counter. Sirius’s back arched and his hips rolled forward as Remus’s tongue flitted into his mouth and their lips slid together. Sirius’s eyes fell shut and his mind went pleasantly blank, lost in the heady sensation of Remus’s strong body and beautiful lips against his. He thought he could just stand there kissing Remus all day, like nothing else mattered.

Remus kissed across Sirius’s jaw and down his neck, slotting their thighs together, before burying his face in the crook of Sirius’s shoulder.

“I have a confession,” Remus whispered against his skin, running his hands along Sirius’s shoulder blades.

“What is it?”

“I overheard you and Dora.”

Sirius’s stomach twisted guiltily and he leaned back to look at Remus’s face, half afraid of seeing disappointment there, but there wasn’t any. Instead, Remus was gazing at him with a soft, tender expression.

“How much did you hear?” Sirius asked.

“A lot,” Remus replied, his eyes flicking between both of Sirius’s. “Enough.”

“I’m so sorry if I overstepped,” Sirius said. “I think I said some things…I was really angry.”

But Remus just kissed him again, meeting his lips with a sweet little sound from the back of his throat.

“You didn’t overstep,” he said. “You said everything I’ve always wanted to say…everything I haven’t had the guts to say.”

But Sirius shook his head.

“No. Everything you’ve had too much integrity to say,” Sirius corrected, with a soft hand to Remus’s cheek. Remus leaned into Sirius’s palm and closed his eyes for a moment.

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “Anyway, thank you. For standing up for me and Teddy like that. I feel like you’re my hero, or something.”

“I would look good in Superman tights,” Sirius mused, and Remus laughed into another kiss.

“I don’t doubt it,” Remus agreed. “But you don’t need tights to look good. Actually, I think you look really fucking sexy right now, wearing my clothes, with your throat all marked up and your hair all messy from my fingers.”

He dragged the pad of his thumb against one of the dark, mottled bruises on Sirius’s neck, then ran his tongue over it, as though savoring the taste of Sirius’s skin. Sirius’s knees weakened under him—he couldn’t believe that was a real thing—while Remus cradled his jaw in one hand and kissed him, slowly and sweetly at first, then harder and dirtier, until they were panting and licking into each other’s mouths.

“I want to rip this off of you,” Sirius moaned, fisting the fabric of Remus’s Tori Amos t-shirt.

“Don’t rip this one,” Remus panted, tipping his head back while Sirius palmed him through his shorts. “It’s vi—vintage! From her 1996 tour.”

“You’re such a nerd, and I love it,” Sirius said, latching onto Remus’s neck and closing his fingers around Remus’s hard cock as it strained against the fabric. “And you’re not wearing anything under these shorts, are you?”

“Had to give you easy access,” Remus replied, pressing his hips forward into Sirius’s hand and groaning with pleasure as he stroked.

Sirius ran his hand upward, tracing his fingers just underneath the elastic waistband of Remus's shorts and feeling the muscles of Remus’s stomach flutter as he teased along the bare skin. Remus was so sensitive, so responsive, so hungry for every single touch, and Sirius wanted to put his hands and tongue and mouth all over every inch of him. He reached into Remus’s shorts and took his long length into his hand, gently caressing and pumping while he lavished Remus’s lips with languid kisses. He pressed one more kiss to Remus’s neck before leaning down to speak directly to Remus’s shirt.

“Close your eyes, Tori,” he whispered, then pulled down Remus’s shorts, freeing Remus’s glorious cock, and sinking to his knees.

***

He felt Remus’s chest rise and fall, first with laughter, then with desire, as Sirius stroked him, kissing slowly across the planes of his stomach, running his tongue along the hollow V of his hip bones, grazing his teeth over Remus’s upper thighs, teasingly licking at the head of Remus’s cock, and finally taking his full length down his throat as much as he could.

“Oh fuck,” Remus moaned, nearly stumbling forward and needing to brace himself against the kitchen counter as Sirius swallowed him down. Sirius closed his eyes, in a bliss of his own. It felt so good, the cold wood under his knees and Remus’s thick cock pressing into the inside of his mouth. He had no idea that being in love would make him so invested in Remus’s pleasure, but he was. Every grateful moan, every eager twitch of Remus’s hips made Sirius’s own desire more acute.

Sirius slid his lips closer to Remus’s hips as Remus’s breath came in ragged gasps. The deeper Sirius took him, the harder he got, and the sensation of Remus’s cock thickening in Sirius’s throat was one of the sexiest fucking things he’d ever experienced. Sirius felt his own cock throbbing and leaking, rock hard between his legs, and he reached into his shorts to stroke himself as he worked Remus with his throat and tongue. He slid his other hand up the back of Remus’s thigh and squeezed his arse hungrily, remembering Remus’s promise to eat him out, and own his cock twitched in his hand at the thought.

“Oh, god, Sirius,” Remus moaned in a broken voice as his fingernails scraped Sirius’s scalp and his fist closed around a handful of hair. Sirius felt Remus’s hips stutter forward and stop abruptly, as though he was holding himself back. That was no surprise, Sirius thought. Remus was an expert at holding himself back, but Sirius wanted to give him everything, and wanted Remus to take what he wanted, too.

He pushed his hand firmly against Remus’s arse, pressing him in deeper, and hummed his pleasure as Remus slid further down his throat. Sirius pressed his hand again and again, rhythmically encouraging Remus to fuck his throat, until finally, Sirius felt Remus’s resolve break. Sirius groaned happily, greedily, and he hazily looked forward to pushing Remus’s will to the breaking point again and again, urging him to take what he wanted for as long as he wanted it.

The harder and faster Remus pushed into him, the more tightly coiled Sirius’s own desire became, building and boiling until it reached a crescendo. Remus’s thighs clenched and tears leaked out the corners of Sirius’s eyes as he felt their twin orgasms cresting as one.

“Sirius,” Remus tried to warn him, in case he wanted to pull off, but Sirius wouldn’t have dreamed of stopping now. He was eager, starving, for Remus to pulse and spill down his throat, and he kept one hand firmly pressed against Remus’s arse and moaned eagerly around his cock, spurring him on.

Remus’s whole body jerked as he came hard and loud, his knees buckling and his hands gripping Sirius’s hair and the counter as his cock throbbed with his release. The sound and feeling of it washed over Sirius like a tidal wave, pushing him over the edge, too, with incredible, overwhelming power. He cried out against Remus’s cock as he spilled over his hand, relishing the feeling of Remus coming down his throat.

Their orgasms seemed to go on and on, and Sirius swallowed eagerly as his own cock continued to pulse in his fist. Finally he pulled off with a grateful, exhausted sigh, continuing to kiss and lick worshipfully at the warm, beautiful skin of Remus’s stomach, hips, legs, cock, anywhere he could reach. Remus tipped his forehead against the kitchen cabinets as he caught his breath, then pulled up his shorts and slowly sank to the floor, wrapping his arms and legs around Sirius and pulling him close.

***

He carded his fingers through Sirius’s hair and kissed his jaw and throat, as though worried that Sirius had overexerted himself.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his lips brushing against Sirius’s skin.

“So fucking good,” Sirius rasped. “That was incredible.”

“You were incredible,” Remus said, continuing to pepper Sirius’s neck with soft, tender kisses. “That was…wow.”

“Yeah,” Sirius sighed, feeling his body melt into Remus’s, feeling their bodies melt into each other. He pressed his face into Remus’s soft, sweet-smelling hair and breathed deeply. Everything—everything—about Remus felt like it was suffused with the perfect elements to make Sirius happy, as though some divine power had created him from Sirius’s dreams.

“I love you,” Sirius whispered, and Remus’s arms tightened around him.

“I love you, too,” he replied.

They were quiet for another few seconds, just holding each other, their breathing steadying as one, until Sirius spoke again.

“I’ve got spunk all over the inside of my fucking shorts,” he mumbled into Remus’s neck. “I feel like I’m 12 years old.”

Remus snorted and Sirius felt his body shake with laughter.

“You mean my fucking shorts,” Remus corrected.

“Mine now, I guess,” Sirius said.

“Why don’t you piss all over them, too, really mark them as your own?” Remus said, and they laughed harder, tipping their foreheads together and kissing in between giggles.

“Can I tell you I love you again?” Remus asked, leaning back to look into Sirius’s face with an expression so devout that Sirius wanted to cry. No one had ever looked at him like that before. He didn’t know it was possible.

“As many times as you want,” Sirius replied, brushing a stray curl off Remus’s forehead.

“Then I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you, Sirius.”

Sirius captured Remus’s lips in another kiss, cradling his face in his hands.

“I love you, too, baby,” Sirius whispered back.

Two hours later, they’d showered, dressed, and even managed to make the French toast that Sirius had been wanting, standing shoulder to shoulder at the counter again, just as they had the night before. But this time, Sirius didn’t have to swat away his desire to touch Remus. Instead, they were happily lost in each other, kissing and wrapping their arms around each other’s waists between every cracked egg, every sizzling piece of bread, every drizzle of maple syrup, and every soapy dish they washed afterwards.

It was bliss, every second of it, and Sirius imagined that he’d be deliriously happy doing the most mundane things with Remus. He couldn’t wait to shop for dinner with him, slipping his hands into his back pockets in the deli line at the market. He looked forward to folding the babies’ laundry together, their arms brushing sweetly as they sorted through endless pairs of tiny socks. He imagined getting the post together, walking to the mailbox hand in hand, and even taking care of Remus when he was sick, laying a cool flannel against his forehead, pressing sweet kisses to his sleeping face, and making sure he took his medicine.

When it was finally time to leave the cottage, Sirius felt a bittersweet twinge in his heart. Somehow, this place felt inexplicably like home; familiar, warm, and welcoming. He’d felt it the very first time he’d ever set foot inside the house all those weeks ago, and he felt it even more acutely now, as they were about to leave it behind. He heard the waves and felt them inside his body, like his own beating heart.

They stood in the driveway, holding hands, while Sirius gazed up at the cupola. It was beautiful from here, yet small and unassuming. But that one, tiny, glass-enclosed space had completely changed Sirius's life. He walked into it one person and walked out of it someone else.

“I know,” Remus said, following Sirius’s gaze and squeezing his hand. “It’s just filled with magic.”

Twenty minutes later, they arrived at Remus’s parents’ house. They hadn’t even been gone 24 hours, but it felt like a lifetime of changes had happened to them since. 

“Pa!” Harry cried when Sirius and Remus walked into the backyard to find Hope, Harry, and Teddy sitting in the grass surrounded by a neat circle of stones. Both boys had berry-stained faces and knees that were streaked with grass and dirt. A little pile of wildflowers sat in a colorful heap between them, some intact, others with all their petals pulled off. Teddy sat with his pudgy legs outstretched, ripping flowers gleefully, his lacy red bra draped around his neck like a scarf and covered with blades of grass and flower petals. All three of them wore pretty little homemade daisy crowns around their heads.

Harry pulled himself up to stand using Hope’s knee for leverage and toddled across the lawn with his arms outstretched. A gold lamé cape that was tied around his neck waved behind him as he walked like a little drunkard toward Sirius. He fell only once, and popped back up like a Jack-in-the-box, pushing himself to stand with both hands while his cape fluttered around his bare feet.

“Harry!” Sirius cried, scooping him off the ground and spinning him around. He'd missed Harry so much.

Harry giggled and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to Sirius’s cheek. He clutched a fistful of crumpled daisies and black-eyed Susans and handed the bouquet to Sirius, who received it with a happy gasp.

“Thank you, buddy!” he said, peppering Harry’s face and neck with tickling kisses and eliciting a cascade of happy giggles. “They’re beautiful!”

“We were just doing some flower magic,” Hope said, holding Teddy’s hands in each of hers as he took his own tentative steps toward them. His torso moved faster than his feet as he lunged happily for Remus.

“Hi!” Teddy shrieked with a powerful hiccup as Remus picked him up and pulled him into a hug. “Hi! Hi! Hi! Da! Da! Da!”

“Hiya Teddy Bear!” Remus replied with a laugh. “Daddy missed you!”

“Wom!” Teddy cried, swiveling around in Remus’s arms and pointing to the circle of stones. Remus looked to where he was pointing, and then at his mother, who smiled conspiratorially. Her eyes glittered as she looked between Harry and Teddy.

“Do you want to show your Da and Pa what we found?” Hope asked, and Harry clapped as Teddy continued to yell and hiccup in Remus’s ear.

They followed Hope back to the stone circle. She, like the babies, was barefoot, and also wore a gold cape and red bra around her neck over her gingham sundress. She stepped into the circle and bent over to retrieve a clear glass jar containing a stick, a rock, a handful of grass and leaves, and a...

“Wom!” Teddy screamed again, and Sirius spotted a furry black and orange caterpillar perched on top of the stick.

“It’s a fox moth caterpillar,” Hope told them, holding the jar up to eye level. “We found it on the rock wall just beyond the stream. I thought we could have a little science experiment and watch it make its cocoon and turn into a moth.”

At this, she looked at Sirius with a small smile.

“Of course, that means I’ll need more frequent visits,” she told him. “For science purposes.”

“I think that can be arranged. For science,” Sirius added.

Remus reached out to grab Sirius’s hand and pulled it to his lips for a kiss. Hope watched the gesture and her smile widened.

“Do you have time for tea, boys?” she asked. “Or do you need to be on your way?”

“Up to you,” Remus said easily, turning to Sirius without letting go of his hand. They’d held hands all the way home from the seaside, and doing so now felt just right.

“I’d love to stay for tea,” Sirius told her. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you! You’re doing me a favor,” Hope replied. “I made way too much rosemary sea salt shortbread. In fact, I’ll probably send you home with a tin of it, too, if you fancy. My rosemary bushes just flourished while we were in Majorca, and I went a little crazy when I got home.”

“She harvests the sea salt herself, too,” Remus said, and Sirius’s heart filled up at the sound of pride in his voice.

But Hope just waved a hand as though harvesting her own sea salt was nothing.

“I boil water,” she told Sirius. “I’m not exactly splitting the atom.”

“Still,” Sirius said. “I think that’s pretty impressive.”

“Aren’t you sweet,” she replied. “I can see why my son loves you so much.”

Sirius glanced over at Remus, whose cheeks stained a delicate shade of pink.

“I told you she knows everything,” he whispered.

They followed her inside to a beautiful, glass-walled orangery that was so filled with plants it looked like a tropical forest. There were citrus trees of all kinds, wide-leaved monsteras, hot pink bougainvillea, and beautiful, dripping vines. The air was sweetly fragranced and warm, and they settled into wicker chairs with charmingly worn cushions, passing an easy hour over tea and the best shortbread Sirius had ever tasted in his life. Hope was charming, just as funny as Remus (although without his proclivity for profanity), and shared his taste in music.

“We don’t share it!” Hope scolded her son with a laugh. “I taught him everything he knows!”

“Where would I be without my mother and PJ Harvey?” Remus conceded.

“Exactly!” Hope said. “Put that on a t-shirt!”

Harry was snoozing on Sirius’s lap, the daisy crown drooping across his forehead, but Teddy was still chowing down, gnawing on a juicy strawberry the size of his hand. He held it in his fist and chewed it sideways with his back gums, like he was an old-timey gangster chomping a cigar.

“Is that good, buddy?” Remus asked, laughing as he leaned his head down to watch the pink strawberry juice dribble down Teddy’s cheek and neck.

“Ya!” Teddy cried excitedly. He shoved the strawberry between his teeth, then slammed his open hand against the glass-topped table in happy appreciation, leaving smears of strawberry guts with every messy slap.

Remus dissolved into laughter and kissed Teddy’s sticky cheek.

“You’re funny, dude,” he said.

“Dude!” Teddy repeated, and Remus laughed harder.

Then, out of nowhere, Teddy dropped his strawberry with a wet little plop into the dregs of Remus’s tea. He scrunched his eyebrows and screwed up his face as his cheeks turned pink, then bright red, then nearly purple with effort. He grunted and pushed, and they watched him like a bomb that was about to detonate.

Soon, the bomb did detonate. An enormous, wet shit ripped through Teddy’s diaper. Remus gasped and his mouth fell open as he apparently felt the action right against his thigh. They all fell silent as Teddy released a few more room-shaking farts. Then Teddy’s face relaxed, he peered into Remus’s teacup, fished out his wet, dripping, chewed-up strawberry, and settled contentedly against his father’s chest.

“I’ll be right back,” Remus said, lifting Teddy up under his armpits and hurrying out of the room.

Sirius and Hope laughed as they watched them go, then turned back to each other. A Björk record spun on a turntable in the corner, but otherwise, the orangery was quiet.

Sirius felt like he had a million questions for Hope. He wanted to know everything about Remus—what he was like as a little boy, what he got for his 10^th birthday, what his favorite movie was, whether he had always loved maths—and he was just about to ask, when Hope glanced into his teacup and did a double take.

She picked it up and tilted it sideways, furrowing her brow with a little smile as she stared at it.

“You’ve a stag in your cup,” she said. “At the very top.”

Sirius’s stomach flipped curiously.

”What?” he asked quietly.

”A stag,” she repeated, tipping the cup toward him. “In your tea leaves, see?”

She showed it to Sirius, who could very clearly see the stag's beautiful head and majestic, pointed antlers made out of the tiny black tea leaves in the bottom of his tea cup.

Sirius’s mouth dropped open and he put a hand to his heart, which was suddenly racing.

“Does it mean something to you?” Hope asked, looking at him curiously. She put the cup down and placed a gentle hand over Sirius’s. It was soft and warm.

“Yeah, it does,” he nodded, his voice trembling, unable to take his eyes away from the wet tea leaves. “Harry’s dad. James. We called him Prongs. A nickname. We imagined ourselves as animals when we were kids and we thought he’d be a stag.”

“Seems like he’s here with you,” Hope said, running her thumb across the top of Sirius’s hand. “How wonderful.”

Sirius didn't know what to say, but he held Harry a little tighter.

“Do you really think so?” Sirius asked finally, looking up at her.

“I really do,” she said. “You obviously loved each other very much. Love like that never ends, Sirius.”

Sirius let her words wash over him. They were the very same ones Remus said to him the night before, and he felt a tear drip down his cheek. He couldn’t believe he was crying out of nowhere, and in front of Remus’s mum.

“Sorry,” Sirius said, quickly trying to brush the tear away, but Hope stilled his hand.

“Don’t apologize,” she said. “Tears heal us. We need them.”

Sirius looked down into the teacup again. Now that he saw the stag, he couldn’t unsee it. It was as clear as Harry sleeping against his chest. He counted the points. There were seven on each antler.

“Tea leaves are sometimes used to divine the future,” Hope said, breaking into Sirius’s thoughts. He looked up at her sweet face and saw Remus’s honey-brown eyes and kind smile, and he felt himself relax. “But not always. Sometimes, like with all magic, tea leaves are conduits to give us messages, telling us the things we need to hear. You might ask yourself, if James was here with us today, what would he say?”

Sirius lifted the teacup off the saucer again and turned it round and round in his hand. Then as suddenly as the tears arrived, Sirius smiled and laughed to himself. Oh, James. Yes, of course, he’d invite himself to tea with Remus and his mother.

“I need to get to know the love of your life, mate,” Sirius could almost hear him say. “Well done, Padfoot.”

“Can you hear him?” Hope asked, and Sirius nodded.

“Yeah,” Sirius replied, pressing a kiss to the top of Harry’s head, his cheek brushing against the flower crown as he did. “I can hear him.”

Hours later, Remus and Sirius still weren’t ready to leave each other’s sides, so Sirius and Harry spent the night at Remus’s flat, with Harry sleeping happily in a portable crib next to Teddy in the nursery. Sirius and Remus fell into each other once again, blissful and radiant with their new love. They couldn’t get enough of each other.

Afterwards, they held each other close in Remus’s bed, and Sirius told Remus about the stag in his teacup.

“Do you believe in that stuff? Signs and messages and things?” Sirius asked as he leaned his cheek against the top of Remus’s head. Remus was lying half on top of Sirius, with his arms wrapped around his waist, his head resting on his chest, and their legs tangled together.

“Yeah, I do,” Remus said, and Sirius felt his voice vibrate against his ribs. Against his heart. “I think sometimes, the universe is trying to tell us things. We just don’t always listen.”

Sirius closed his eyes to see what else he could hear, breathing in Remus and holding him close. He worried sometimes that he’d forget the sound of James’s voice, but so far he hadn’t. It lived inside him, and he heard it all the time, including right then.

“You deserve to be happy, Pads,” he heard James say. “I want you to be happy. And you will be.”

Then, Sirius and Remus both heard something else: The sound of Remus’s phone vibrating on the bedside table. Remus reached for it and opened the message, which illuminated his face in the dark bedroom.

It was another text from Dora.

“Oh my god,” Remus breathed, tilting the phone toward Sirius. “Look.”

Her message only contained five words, but it was enough.

“I’ll sign the papers tomorrow.”

"Tomorrow!" Remus repeated.

“Holy shit!” Sirius said, and pulled Remus into a delirious kiss. 

They held each other close, filled with happy relief, and slid into an easy, dreamless sleep.

And somewhere, up in the starry ether, James Potter smiled.

Chapter Text

You’re Invited!

What: Teddy Lupin’s 2^nd birthday supper

When: Saturday, April 14 at 6:00

Where: Remus and Sirius’s House, 15 Willow Lane, Hogsmeade

The theme of the party is orange, so please wear your very best orange attire!

Harry sat in his high chair with an empty saucepan in front of him on the tray and a wooden spoon in his hand and looked up expectantly at Sirius.

“OK,” Sirius said, leaning over his phone next to the stove. “Next up. Worcestershire sauce and tomato puree.”

Harry picked up a pretend bottle and shook it over the pan while Sirius measured the real thing into the skillet over the ground lamb. Harry stirred with his wooden spoon a few times, then took a “bite” and also fed some to the little stuffed deer that sat perched in the crook of his arm.

“Yum, Pwongsie,” Harry told the deer as it swallowed down its supper.

“Is it yummy?” Sirius asked, looking over his shoulder at Harry.

“Yeah!” Harry replied, taking another pretend bite. “Is yummy!”

“You’re a really good cook, mate,” Sirius told him, then turned back to his recipe. “Me, on the other hand…”

Hope had assured him that there was no way he could fuck up the shepherd’s pie (actually, she had said “muck up”).

“Just follow the recipe exactly and be gentle with yourself,” she’d said in the email. “Remember, love, everybody starts somewhere, and no one is born knowing how to cook. I’m sure it’ll turn out beautifully.”

He was following the instructions exactly, and he was being gentle-ish with himself, too. Yet he still texted Hope every few steps.

Sirius: The lamb smells very…lamby

Hope: It does have a certain musk to it, doesn’t it?

Sirius: Is it supposed to look this wet?

Hope: It’ll cook down and dry out, don’t worry.

Sirius: I’m trying to evenly spread the mashed potatoes, but the meat keeps sticking to it and it’s all looking a little *chunky*

Hope: That’s OK, you’re also sprinkling parmesan over the whole thing. Melted cheese covers a multitude of sins.

And once, Hope had texted him, completely unprompted.

Hope: Just wanted you to know that I think you’re doing amazing!!! XOXO

Sirius smiled down at the message as he slid the casserole dish into the oven. He set the kitchen timer, then turned to Harry.

“Listen, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he said, pulling Harry out of his high chair and plopping him on top of the counter. “What do you really think of my orange shirt?”

“Is pretty!” Harry said, swinging his dangling legs and banging his little heels against the lower cupboard.

“Really? I feel like orange isn’t quite my color,” Sirius mused.

“Pretty!” Harry assured him.

“Thanks, mate,” Sirius said, kissing him on the head. “Now, you said this morning that Prongsie has a boo-boo? Show me where.”

Harry held up his stuffed deer and pointed a tiny finger to a little rip in the plush antler. Sirius inspected it and nodded decisively.

“Alright, time for surgery,” Sirius said. He scooped Harry off the counter, perched him on his hip, and brought him upstairs into the guestroom, where he opened the closet and pulled out a little wicker sewing basket that had once belonged to Remus’s grandmother.

They both settled on the soft rug with the stuffed deer between them as Sirius dug through the basket for matching brown thread and a needle. It took him about 17 tries to actually thread the needle, and a few more tries to knot the thread, but finally he was ready.

He held the needle up to the deer’s face with a bracing expression.

“I’m just going to fix you up,” he told the deer. “It won’t hurt a bit, I promise.”

He pulled the needle through the little rip slowly while Harry looked on, sucking his pacifier with a concerned crinkle in his forehead. A minute later, Sirius inspected his sewing job. It was a little rough, to say the least. The fabric was puckered and the stitches were uneven. But it was OK. Scars add character, he thought to himself.

Sirius kissed the deer’s newly repaired antler and handed it back to Harry.

“Here you go, my love,” Sirius said. “All better.”

Harry kissed the little sewed-up spot, too, and hugged the deer to his chest.

“Fank you,” he said.

“Anytime, mate.”

Sirius was just packing up the sewing box when they heard the sound of the kitchen door bursting open, followed by a cacophony of excited yelling. Harry’s eyes widened, his mouth opened in an excited gasp, and his pacifier dropped onto his lap as he looked toward the guestroom door.

“Who’s home?” Sirius asked Harry with a wide-eyed smile of his own, pocketing the pacifier. They listened for another half second before a happy shriek sounded from downstairs.

“Har!” the shrieking voice cried, and Harry looked back at Sirius.

“Ted! Da!” Harry replied.

“Should we go say hi?” Sirius asked.

“Ya!” Harry clapped, and, with his stuffed deer clutched in his hand, they made their way back downstairs, where they were greeted by an enormous bunch of orange balloons tied to long orange ribbons. Two pairs of legs—long ones wearing khakis and loafers, and little ones wearing denim and trainers—stood behind the mess of balloons, fighting their way through the kitchen door.

“Fucking hell,” a voice behind the balloons muttered, as one of the ribbons got tangled on the door’s hinges.

Sirius put Harry down and rushed over, trying not to laugh. He wrapped his hand around the ribbons and tugged.

“Let go, I’ve got them,” he said, and stepped back, pulling the balloons aside to reveal a rumpled-looking Remus, who was holding Teddy’s hand while also carrying a long, white cardboard box in the crook of his arm, a backpack on his back, and a diaper bag slung across his chest.

“Thank you,” Remus said. Teddy ran to Harry and tackled him into a giggling hug that knocked them both onto their nappie-padded bottoms. Remus dropped everything else onto the kitchen table and watched Sirius with happy relief as he tied the balloons to the back of a chair.

Sirius looked up at Remus and felt that familiar fizzing in his stomach at the sight of him. They’d lived together for three months and had been dating for eight, and he still found himself positively gobsmacked by Remus’s gorgeousness, especially on days like today when he came home from school looking all teacher-y and hot in his dark glasses, khakis, trim button-down shirt, tie, and half-zipped cardigan. He was sexy and cozy all at once, and Sirius wanted to tuck himself into Remus’s pocket and live there.

“Hi,” Remus said softly as he pulled Sirius into a sweet, slow kiss. Sirius’s eyes fell shut. He slid his hands into Remus’s back pockets and drew him closer. Remus sighed happily and deepened their kiss, slinging his arms around Sirius’s neck.

“I missed you today,” Sirius murmured against his lips.

“Me too. But I miss you every day,” Remus replied. He reached into his own back pocket to find Sirius’s hand, and laced their fingers together. “How was the eye doctor?”

Remus tucked a strand of hair behind Sirius’s ear, then twirled another strand between his fingers. He couldn’t seem to stop touching Sirius’s hair these days, which was a happy side effect of Sirius finally deciding to grow it out again.

“It was great,” Sirius answered, kissing Remus’s knuckles, then turned around to look at the giggling, wrestling baby pile on the floor. “Hey, Harry, show Da your new glasses!”

Harry pushed Teddy away and sat up with his pudgy legs outstretched, looking at Remus with a cheesy smile. He was wearing a brand-new pair of bright green plastic glasses that strapped completely around his head.

“Wow!” Remus said, bending over to scoop him off the kitchen floor. “Those are cool! What color are they?”

“Geen!” Harry cried.

“Good job!” Remus replied. “Did you pick them out yourself?”

“Yeah!” Harry told him.

“Do you like them?”

Harry glanced at Sirius, then back to Remus with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Hmmm,” Harry shrugged.

“The doctor said he’d take a few days to get used to them,” Sirius said, looking down at Teddy, who was now busy crawling atop Sirius’s foot and wrapping his arms and legs around his ankle and calf. Sirius ruffled Harry’s hair and continued. “But you can see the world a lot better now, right, mate?”

“Me see!” Harry cried cheerfully, and Remus kissed the top of his head.

“Glad to hear it,” Remus said. He turned to Sirius again. “What smells amazing?”

“Shepherd’s pie,” Sirius said. “Should be ready in about 45 minutes.”

Remus looked at him with a disbelieving expression.

“You made shepherd’s pie? From scratch?”

“I had the whole day off,” Sirius shrugged. “Harry’s appointment didn’t end up taking very long.”

“You’re amazing,” Remus said, leaning in to kiss Sirius again. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Of course you do,” Sirius replied, kissing him back while Harry pulled his and Remus’s hair and Teddy squeezed Sirius’s leg so hard he almost cut off the circulation to his foot. “Besides, I’m not totally convinced I didn’t fuck it up. We might be ordering takeaway later.”

“It’ll be perfect,” Remus assured him.

And to Sirius’s surprise, it was.

“It’s not even chunky,” Sirius mused happily when he scooped the first spoonful onto Harry’s plate.

“Chunky?” Remus asked, a bit startled, peering into the casserole dish with a concerned expression.

“Long story…nothing to worry your pretty little head over,” Sirius assured him as they tucked in. “It’s only chunky where it’s supposed to be. I can’t wait to tell your mum.”

After dinner, Remus built a fire in the living room hearth while Sirius put the boys in their pajamas. Although it was officially spring, the air still had a biting chill to it, especially at night on the ocean, and they all cuddled up under quilts on the sofa to read the new stack of books Sirius and Harry had picked up at the little Hogsmeade library that afternoon. Remus and Sirius took turns reading the books, and when Remus was reading, Sirius couldn’t help watching him, Harry, and Teddy in awe. How did this beautiful life belong to him?

He and Remus had moved into the beach cottage a few months earlier after Remus’s auntie announced that she was staying in California with her daughter. The house had sat, lonely and empty, for several months, before Hope called Remus with a proposition.

“The house will wilt and die without any life in it,” she said. “What do you think of moving in permanently? It’ll be yours someday, anyhow, and it needs love to keep living its good life. You, Sirius, Harry, and Teddy have plenty of that.”

They certainly did have plenty of that. So they packed their bags, and their love, and moved in. It had been bliss ever since. Who would have thought that Sirius Black would adore making shepherd’s pie, reading children’s library books, and sewing ripped stuffed animals?

The softly crackling fire was dying in the hearth now. They’d read eight library books before the babies’ eyes started drooping shut, with their chubby cheeks squished against their fathers’ chests.

Sirius and Remus held hands under the blanket and talked in hushed tones about their days while the boys snoozed. Remus’s students had sat for a big exam that counted for 20% of their grade.

“I’ve decided to let anyone who doesn’t get a passing grade take the exam again,” he said, resting his head on Sirius’s shoulder. “My department head doesn’t like it when I do that, but isn’t learning from your mistakes the whole point of school? It’s not just about grades, it’s about actually teaching the kids the material. I want them to really learn something.”

“You’re preaching to the choir,” Sirius said, kissing the top of his head. “I wouldn’t give out grades at all if I didn’t have to. I just want the kids to have fun learning.”

“I wish you’d been my teacher,” Remus replied. “If you were, maybe I’d remember something about history besides Henry’s six wives.”

“It’s probably a good thing that you weren’t my teacher,” Sirius said in a low voice, letting go of Remus’s hand and running his fingers across his thigh. “I would’ve gotten kicked out of school for trying to seduce you after class.”

“And I would’ve gotten fired for letting you,” Remus replied, pulling Sirius into a kiss that would have gotten heated quickly, had they both not had sleeping babies on their laps.

“Can we please put these little cockblockers to bed?” Sirius whispered, tugging Remus’s lower lip between his teeth. “I spent a considerable amount of time in the shower during Harry’s naptime today getting ready for you to come home.”

Remus gave him a pathetic little moan in answer and seconds later they were tiptoeing up the stairs as fast as they could and tucking Harry and Teddy into their cribs in their shared nursery. Remus stopped in front of the bureau to turn on the nightlight and white noise machine, but Sirius couldn’t wait. He wrapped his arms around Remus from behind and slid his hands up underneath the thin cotton of his t-shirt, running his fingers across his warm stomach, before leaning over and brushing his lips across his neck.

As always, Remus’s entire body responded hungrily to every touch. He leaned his head back onto Sirius’s shoulder and pressed his arse into Sirius’s already hardening cock as he fumbled with the buttons on the white noise machine, breathing heavily as he tried mightily to find the right one. Finally, he hit something, and the room was filled with the sound of a thudding heartbeat instead of rain.

“Fuck,” Remus whispered, and they both fell into silent laughter as Remus struggled to shut it off. Sirius slipped a hand down the front of Remus’s pants, and Remus’s concentration suffered even more. Finally, Remus found the right button, took Sirius by the hand that wasn’t wrapped around his cock, and pushed him out of the room.

“You’re a bloody menace,” Remus huffed, clicking the door shut, pushing Sirius against the hallway wall, and attacking his neck with a hungry slide of lips, teeth, and tongue.

“And don’t you ever fucking forget it,” Sirius replied, losing himself in every licking bite. His head tipped back against the wall, and he barely noticed when he knocked against into the bottom edge of a picture frame. Remus was quickly obliterating every thought from his mind. There was only his strong hands gripping at Sirius’s waist and pinning him against the wall; his lips and tongue roving ravenously over his throat; his firm thigh rubbing against his straining cock.

“Bedroom,” Remus breathed, hot and heavy, into Sirius’s hair. “Now.”

They stumbled down the hall, panting against each other and leaving a trail of clothes as they went. Remus unzipped Sirius’s hoodie and shoved it off his shoulders onto the floor; Sirius yanked Remus’s t-shirt over his head and tossed it onto a side table. They pushed each other’s shorts and boxers off and tripped over themselves eagerly until they collapsed, naked, onto the bed.

Remus eased Sirius onto his back and crawled on top of him, kneeling between his thighs and pushing his legs apart. He gathered up Sirius’s wrists in one hand, wrapped his fingers around them tightly, and pressed them above his head. Sirius moaned at the incredible feeling of being pinned down. It was something he’d fantasized about nearly from the first moment that he saw Remus’s hands, and the reality was a million times better.

“Did I tell you how good dinner was?” Remus asked huskily, licking the shell of Sirius’s ear. He rolled his hips and rubbed his heavy cock against Sirius’s.

“Yes,” Sirius panted, his eyes shutting of their own accord as Remus’s fingers tightened around his wrists. “You did.”

“Because it was amazing,” Remus whispered. He bit gently into the flesh of Sirius’s neck where it dipped at the shoulder, and Sirius’s back arched under the pleasure of his demanding teeth and tongue. “You’re amazing.”

“So…are you,” Sirius breathed. He strained his neck and captured Remus’s lips in a starving kiss. Remus ran his hand that wasn’t pinning Sirius’s wrists to the pillows up the outside of his thigh, over his waist, and across his nipple, which he squeezed between his thumb and forefinger. A jolt of pure want burned across Sirius’s skin, and Remus kissed him harder, licking into his mouth wantonly before dragging his lips across Sirius’s jaw and up the side of his neck.

“Do you think I thanked you enough?” Remus asked. He ran his free hand into Sirius’s hair, tangling it into his fingers with a little moan. “Because I think I could thank you a bit more.”

“Ya…yeah, I think you need to thank me more,” Sirius said, writhing underneath Remus’s strong, insistent hands and lips and thighs.

“How do you think I might do that?”

***

But Sirius couldn’t answer. He was too lost in Remus—the feel of him, the smell of him, the taste of him—as he slowly licked his way down Sirius’s body, his lips and tongue roving over his hard nipples, his stomach, the V-of his hipbones, the crease of his thighs. Finally, Remus slid his hands under Sirius’s arse, lifted his hips, and spread him wide, pulling his cheeks apart and burying himself there. His tongue swirled and dipped around and inside Sirius’s hole as he sucked and lapped insatiably. His thumbs teased and prodded at the rim, pulling it wider, letting him in deeper. Every press and dip of Remus’s tongue felt astonishing, like a fucking revelation. Sirius was soaked and sloppy, as Remus moaned against his hole and writhed with pleasure against the mattress, as though he could come right then against the rumpled sheets, just from eating Sirius’s arse. Sirius was floating with pleasure, reduced to bright, sparking nerve endings and nothing more, as Remus’s tongue fucked him again and again.

“I could fucking live between your legs,” Remus slurred, as though drunk on Sirius himself, and Sirius moaned as Remus slicked up his cock, lifted Sirius’s hips, and slid into him in a single, firm thrust, not stopping until he was deeply and fully inside. As always, the stretch was delicious and Remus’s long cock filled him perfectly, pressing against his prostate and making his vision temporarily flare white.

“Fuck me,” Sirius panted. “Hard.”

Remus didn’t need telling twice. He curved one huge hand underneath Sirius’s thigh, pressed his knee upward, and pounded into him relentlessly while Sirius pumped his own cock. Sirius was already on the knife’s edge from Remus’s tongue fucking into his arse all night, and his orgasm was fast and intense. He came hard over his fist, pulsing and shooting come all over his stomach. His arse clenched tightly as he came, and Remus cried out seconds later, emptying deeply into him with Sirius’s name on his lips. Sirius could feel Remus’s hard cock throbbing its release against him from the inside, and he moaned with wet, decadent pleasure.

***

They lay panting against each other in a tangle of sweaty legs and heaving chests for a long time afterwards. Remus ran his lips over Sirius’s chest and shoulders lazily, kissing and licking across his skin wherever he could reach. Sirius realized that they did that a lot after sex, just lying next to each other for as long as possible, as though they were trying to melt into the other’s limbs. On nights like this, when their muscles were tired and their skin was slick with cooling sweat, Sirius imaged actually crawling into Remus’s body and burrowing deep, until he was part of his flesh and bones and thrumming blood. Sometimes he felt like he lived there already, sharing a heartbeat.

“I love you,” Sirius murmured against Remus’s neck, his lips and tongue tasting the salty skin. He felt lightheaded with his devotion. “Words don’t exist for the way I love you.”

“I don’t need words,” Remus whispered back, running his fingers through Sirius’s hair. “I just need you.”

The next day, the house was decked out in orange balloons and orange streamers, per Teddy’s request.

“What kind of birthday party do you want, buddy?” Remus had asked.

“Orange!” Teddy had answered.

Of course, Remus obliged.

Now, they were feasting on vanilla cupcakes with orange icing with Hope and Lyall, Mrs. Smith and Mrs. Bagshot, Natalie and Ellie, and to Sirius’s happiness, Dora, who hadn’t canceled a visit in months.

Everyone followed the directions on Teddy’s birthday invitation and was wearing some form of orange. Dora wore an orange jumper; Lyall was sporting an orange plastic cowboy hat; Hope wore a rust-orange linen dress; Natalie and Ellie wore orange Hawaiian shirts and leis from their summer following Jimmy Buffett on his “License to Chill Tour” in 2004; and Mrs. Smith and Mrs. Bagshot each wore knitted orange headbands adorned with silk flowers that they’d made just for the occasion.

Remus, Sirius, Harry, and Teddy, meanwhile, all wore matching orange t-shirts that said, “Orange You Glad It’s Your Birthday?” with a picture of a psychotically grinning Teddy (wearing only a nappie, hot pink wellies, and a yellow construction hat) splayed across the front. Teddy had chosen the photo, too. He pointed to it, said it was “weird,” then burped and ran away to lie behind the couch for a while with his bra.

Teddy lounged in a new orange beanbag chair while he opened his presents and screamed happily at every single one, ripping off the orange wrapping paper, thrusting each gift over his head, and yelling “Fanks!” His favorite gift was a knitted orange dinosaur and a matching beanie from Mrs. Smith and Mrs. Bagshot.

“It’s a stegosaurus,” Mrs. Smith said proudly. “The spikes took me a whole weekend!”

Sirius had been buzzing with energy all day, not only because of the birthday party and the fact that most of his diet since breakfast had consisted of cake and icing, but because of the surprise he had planned for Remus out on the beach later that night.

Hope eyed him meaningfully after they’d put the babies to bed, but Sirius’s nervous energy was getting the better of him. He kept finding one more dish to wash or another sticky spot on the floor to wipe up. And he kept worrying, too. What if this was too soon? What if he said no?

Finally, Hope forcibly took the dishtowel of out Sirius’s hands and nodded toward the screen door.

“You’ve got this,” she whispered, then leaned up to give Sirius a kiss on the cheek before slipping a piece of shiny gold pyrite into his jeans pocket.

“Good for positive manifestations,” she said. “I charged it under the last full moon just for you.”

Sirius took a deep breath and sat down next to Remus on the couch, where he was chatting with Natalie and Lyall.

“Moony, I was wondering if I could show you something?” Sirius asked, trying to keep the nervous tremor out of his voice. “Outside on the beach.”

“What is it?”

Sirius hadn’t counted on this question. He thought Remus would just stand up and follow him. He decided to improvise.

“It’s umm…It’s a carcass.”

“A carcass?”

“Yeah, like maybe a big squid or something,” Sirius said. He saw Lyall roll his eyes behind Remus’s back, but Sirius just kept digging his hole deeper. “It’s bloated and it really stinks. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Oh,” Remus said, reeling back with a disgusted expression. “Maybe we should call someone to get rid of it.”

“No!” Sirius protested. “I think we should let nature run its course. Do you want to go see it?”

“Not really!”

“Come on, it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity!”

“So is falling off a building, but I don’t want to do that, either.”

“Actually, Sirius,” Hope interjected. “They already cleaned up the carcass this afternoon. But there is a really beautiful piece of driftwood out there that I was hoping you could get for me, Remus. I want to hang it on my gallery wall.”

“Alright, mum,” Remus agreed easily and walked toward the door.

Thank you, Sirius mouthed frantically to Hope as he ran to follow Remus, while Hope’s shoulders shook with silent giggles.

They pulled on heavy woolen jumpers and stepped out into the chilly April evening. The sky was crisp and clear, dark and bright all at once, with silvery stars sparkling against a velvety black canvas. Remus lit the torch on his phone and shined it onto the path, which wound through the dunes and softly swaying beach grass. The sound of crashing waves was sweet and beautiful, and calmed Sirius’s fluttering heart. It was a sound that lived in his body now, lulling him to sleep every night and gently waking him in the morning.

They picked carefully over the soft, cool sand until they reached the wide-open beach. Remus shined his light all around them, squinting into the darkness.

“Do you know where this piece of driftwood she wants is?” he asked.

“I think it’s this way,” Sirius said, taking Remus by the hand and leading him closer to the shoreline. They walked about 100 feet down the beach when Remus stopped. He lifted his phone and shined his light ahead of them toward a large, shadowy object.

“What the hell is that?” he asked.

“Let’s go find out!” Sirius said, his heart thudding wildly in his throat. He tried to stay calm and cool as they got nearer and it slowly came into focus.

Soon, they had arrived at the mysterious form: A huge cardboard box the size of refrigerator was sitting upside-down on the sand, standing propped up on one side by a tall piece of driftwood like an oversized mousetrap. On the side, a huge word was painted in bright white letters.

“Does that say ‘Marriage?’” Remus asked circling the box in wonder.

“I think it does!” Sirius said in amazement. “Wow, what does that mean?”

“It’s so strange,” Remus murmured.

“What’s inside it?” Sirius asked, pointing a shaking finger at a glass bottle laying underneath the box in the sand.

Remus looked at Sirius and shrugged. Then, he took a step forward, ducked his head underneath the edge of the box, and slowly stepped inside. He looked all around, shining his light up into the box’s dark corners, before bending over and picking up the bottle.

“There’s something in it,” Remus said. He held it up in between their faces and shook it, rattling the rolled-up piece of paper inside.

“A message in a bottle!” Sirius exclaimed, as Remus tipped the bottle upside down and slid the paper out. He unrolled it and held it against the side of the box’s wall, holding his light aloft to read it.

“Dear Remus,” he started to read out loud, then gasped, “Oh my god,” before continuing in a trembling, disbelieving voice.

“Dear Remus,” he read. “I once said that marriage was a trap, and I hope that’s true because I’d really like to trap you.”

Remus wheeled around, wide-eyed, to find Sirius in front of him, down on one knee in the sand.

“You wandered right into my marriage trap,” Sirius said, taking Remus’s hand. “I hope it caught you for good. Will you marry me?”

Remus dropped to his knees, too, and burst into laughter as he threw his arms around Sirius’s neck.

“You made a marriage trap? Out of a box?” Remus cried.

“And driftwood!” Sirius reminded him.

“You’re crazy!” Remus laughed.

“I am,” Sirius agreed. “But you didn’t answer my question.”

This time, Remus tackled Sirius onto the sand.

“Oh my god, Sirius! Yes, of course, yes!”

“Really?” Sirius asked in joyful, wide-eyed amazement.

Remus cupped his face and kissed him again.

“Fuck yes!” Remus replied. “Yes, yes, yes!”

“But I didn’t even give you the ring yet!”

“There’s a ring?” Remus asked, propping himself onto his elbow.

“Of course there’s a ring!” Sirius said. He rolled onto his side and reached into his pocket. “I would’ve given you a Black family heirloom, but I’m pretty sure they’re all cursed. I think this is better anyhow.”

Sirius pulled a little black velvet box out of his pocket, handed it to Remus, and held his breath as he opened it.

“Oh,” Remus breathed, putting a hand to his heart. “Oh my.”

“Your mum gave it to me,” Sirius said, taking it out of the box and slipping it over Remus’s trembling finger. “It belonged to your grampa. I added a few little diamonds to make it special for us.”

Remus stared down at the ring on his finger, then back up at Sirius in disbelief. He shook his head and laughed a little to himself.

“I feel like I dreamed you,” Remus said, staring at him as though he’d never seen anything so precious. “I feel like I pretended hard enough and you came true.”

“Just like Pinocchio! A real boy!” Sirius said, and Remus let out a teary laugh.

“I love you,” Remus whispered. “I love you more than every grain of sand on this beach. Every grain of sand in the world.”

“That’s an awful lot of sand,” Sirius said, his voice breaking with emotion as Remus brushed a hand against his cheek.

“Well,” Remus replied with a kiss. “It’s an awful lot of love.”