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Chapter Text

It was a few days before London Fashion Week, and Sirius Black was an utter mess.

He didn’t let it show, obviously. His perfectly sculpted, beautiful body rarely reflected the madness devouring him from within. Most people couldn’t tell that the gorgeous, sexy, loaded rich, absolutely brilliant twenty five year old supermodel Sirius Black was a walking ticking bomb of pain and suppressed frustrations. 

Being the face of one of the most luxurious and sought-after fashion brands in the world was an opportunity that most models would have killed for. Especially if said fashion brand was owned by their own family. The house of BLACK was on top of the fashion industry, especially in the UK, and the new heir of the brand was also, of course, its lead model.

Sirius Black was probably the luckiest, most handsome and talented nepobaby in the entire fashion industry. He had everything a person could ever ask for: too much money to even count, crowds of people who basically worshipped him, and he was drop dead perfect at everything he did. 

So, it was a few days before London Fashion Week, and supermodel, face of the brand Sirius Black was an utter mess.

In the weeks leading to such a big event, the house of BLACK participated in all kinds of promotional campaigns, and, as the face of the brand, Sirius had to work everyday like a dog. It goes without saying, he wasn’t happy about it. Sirius bursted into the studio with an air of arrogance and haughtiness that immediately scared most of the new employees off. It was the second to last photoshoot for the week before the big event, and the whole team was particularly exhausted in their own rights. Sirius was intimidatingly beautiful, to the point of making every other normal human in the room feel lesser just by existing. Somehow, even without makeup on, he still looked impossibly perfect. His skin was smooth, flawless and glowing, its natural fairness enhanced by the artificial cool lights of the photography studio. Sirius’ features were well defined and spectacularly proportionate, all the lines and angles of his face blending in a regal, yet impetuous mix of gorgeous confidence. His sharp, cold, uniquely penetrating grey eyes scanned the studio, perfectly plucked eyebrows frowning at everyone who dared to stare back at him.

Whenever Sirius entered a room, heads would turn and gasps would be heard. He was just that much noticeable without even trying . 

He wasn’t exactly late to the photoshoot, but he barely made it in time. Sirius valued his time more than he valued everything else, often to the detriment of other employees. He was almost drunk, despite it being barely 10 am, and he was carrying a half empty bottle of cheap beer in one hand, and a newly lit cigarette in the other. 

“Put those away before our mother sees you.” Regulus hissed as Sirius unceremoniously brushed past him to sit on his designated chair to get ready for the shoot.

“Shut up, will you?” Sirius spat, glancing distantly at his own reflection in the mirror. He brought the cigarette to his lips and he inhaled deeply. To anyone else he looked as gorgeous as ever, but to those who dared to look deeper into him, he looked absolutely wasted. “You’re such a bore sometimes, little brother.”

“I’m just trying to save your ass, but you do you, prick.” Regulus rolled his icy, tired eyes, clicking his tongue. Sirius couldn’t help but notice that his brother’s face was paler than usual, and the dark circles under his eyes. 

Regulus waved at the hair and makeup team with his charcoal stained hand. Sirius always found it amusing, how his baby brother found the time to draw literally everywhere at any time, even neglecting proper sleep. Despite being quite beautiful himself, sharing the same godly genes as his brother Sirius, Regulus never quite looked like a model. If Sirius was the embodiment of a work of art, Regulus was an artist. His exterior was unremarkable, plain, almost forgettable, but the younger Black brother was incredibly gifted on the inside. Regulus was constantly filled with ideas for new clothing lines, way too many maybe, seeing how he struggled to sleep whenever he was possessed by inspiration. He always had his beloved sketchbook tucked under his arm, and as soon as the hair and makeup team arrived he retired to an edge of the studio, pencil in hand, diving back into his own world.

“Didn’t I tell you to wash your hair before the shooting?” Marlene McKinnon, Sirius’ personal hairstylist and friend, scoffed at the sight of his messy, slightly greasy locks. 

“I did wash my hair before the shooting.” Sirius brought the cigarette back to his lips, filling his lungs with that heavenly bittersweet poison that managed to fix his broken mind just a little. He brushed a hand through his long, undefined dark curls, grimacing when his fingers got stuck a couple of inches before the ends.

“How many days before the shooting did you wash your hair?” Marlene exhaled, examining Sirius’ roots. She was being rough on purpose, yanking his hair angrily, but she didn’t really hurt him.

“Not too many.” Sirius buried the smoke of the cigarette deep inside his throat, sipping at his beer to drown on top of that. 

“I don’t have time for this.” Marlene parted Sirius’ hair, rolling her eyes. “Dorcas, is it alright if I do an updo on him today? The idiot is such a mess he can’t even take care of himself properly.”

Dorcas Meadowes, Sirius’ image consultant, was pretty used to her most cherished supermodel throwing tantrums every now and then. She was patient and incredibly creative, and Sirius owed her half of his success. He could really do so much with his gorgeous face, but he kept ruining himself acting like a moron. Dorcas stared at Sirius up and down, her deep, dark eyes scrutinizing him with little judgment but much disappointment. She stood alongside Marlene and they played a bit with Sirius’ hair until they came up with an idea.

“Here, you should do something like that.” Dorcas spoke softly as Marlene kept twisting Sirius’ hair in her fingers trying to find an interesting shape. “Leave a few strands to frame the edges of his face.” 

Sirius brought the cigarette back to his lips again, needing some relief after being scolded like a baby. But before he could inhale, the cigarette was snatched off his fingers. Mary MacDonald, his dear makeup artist, stared at him with a twisted snarl as she put off the cigarette on a nearby ashtray.

“I told you not to smoke in front of me thousands of times. It’s gross.” She scoffed, poting her full, glossy lips. She was focused, lifting Sirius’ chin to apply color correction on the barely visible red spots around his nose. “Also, you’re drying your lips.”

Sirius clicked his tongue but he didn’t complain, leaning back on his chair while his team of talented ladies worked to make him look presentable to the big public. It shouldn’t have been a hard job, considering Sirius’ effortless beauty, but he surely did his best to make it more difficult on his team than necessary. But in the end, no one could stay mad at Sirius for too long. He was just too much to handle, and even his team had a soft spot for him, even after he did everything in his power to be the worst . Marlene’s touch on his scalp was pleasant and relaxing, almost like a massage, and she used the most sweet scented hair products ever. Mary was very gentle when applying make up, her sponges and brushes caressing Sirius’ sensitive skin as if he was made of glass. He closed his eyes, leaning onto the gentle touches as he was being spoiled on every front. Sirius tilted his head a little, following Marlene’s directions, and he reached for his beer to take a good sip.

“Get a hold of yourself.” a middle aged, elegant, incredibly well dressed woman spoke harshly through gritted teeth as she ripped the bottle off of Sirius’ hand. “You look horrible, Sirius. You’d better not embarrass our family again, or else I’ll make you regret it.”

Walburga Black was the owner and head fashion designer for the house of BLACK first, and Sirius’ and Regulus’ mother second. She carried herself with an imponent air of superiority, backed by her undeniable global fame. Walburga walked on a pair of high boots with stilettos that clicked loudly on the marble floor; her steps were always controlled and rhythmic as if she was constantly walking a runway. She looked impeccable wearing a long, black redingote double breasted coat with an over extended, sharp lapel. The coat was made out of highly treated velvet which was hand carved into an intricate bass-relief that represented the night sky. The carved little stars looked shiny under the studio lights. Even after giving birth to two children and despite being in her fifties, she looked as flawless as any top model in the industry. Tall, slim and piercingly interesting to look at, with very few wrinkles on her snatched face. When she was standing next to her sons, it was clear where they took all the genes. Her features, though, were much sharper and knifelike compared to her children’s.

“I look gorgeous, mother.” Sirius smirked mockingly, always way too willing to piss Walburga off. He showed his teeth like an angry beast, tilting his head to look at his mother up close. “You should thank me for making your clothes look good.”

“Watch your mouth, you insolent brat, and hope that make up is enough to cover those spots around your nose.” Walburga pointed coldly at the barely there dark circles under Sirius’ eyes, urging Mary to cover those up with concealer. “Where’s your brother? Your father needs him to overlook the light set up.” She asked distantly, her face contorting in disappointment as she silently acknowledged that she still wasn’t satisfied with Sirius’ makeup despite Mary’s efforts.

“He’s drawing over there in his little corner, as usual.” Sirius nodded his head in Regulus’ direction, trying to ignore the way his mother scoffed at the sight.

“When will that child stop being away with the fairies. He’s always doodling pointless futuristic ideas on that sketchbook of his and never doing as he’s told.” Walburga’s jaw tensed as she gave one last disappointed look at Sirius, before focusing on her youngest son. “Regulus! When will you learn? Put that thing away and go help your father!”

Walburga stormed off, her heels clicking at a fast, angry rhythm. Sirius stared at his reflection in the mirror, trying to figure out what it was that his mother didn’t like. Mary did an incredible job in his opinion; she kept the eye makeup pretty simple, dusting a thin yet glowing layer of silver shimmers that made the galaxies he kept hidden behind his irises pop. With just the right amount of concealer, pale blush and light contouring she truly managed to make him look both younger and bolder at the same time and she covered all his slight imperfection flawlessly. Marlene was almost done with his hair as well, and the whole picture was absolutely gorgeous. Even Dorcas, who was almost as critical as Walburga, looked beyond satisfied.

Sirius pouted when Mary was done applying nude lipgloss on him. “I can’t smoke, I can’t drink.” He scoffed. “Is there something a poor soul like me can do to not feel miserable?” He whined, fluttering his eyelashes, which were still fresh with drying mascara. 

“You can stop trying to ruin my job by smearing your mascara all over, first of all.” Mary exhaled, bringing a clean paper tissue under Sirius’ eyes. “Look up…” he obeyed, and she cleaned off the excess mascara. “There, now you’re done and you look as beautiful as ever.” 

“Time to get you dressed up, pretty boy.” Drocas teased with a soft smirk. She led Sirius to his private changing area behind a curtain, and she handed him an elegant garment back with the BLACK logo plastered on the side.

Sirius hadn't even looked at his mother’s fashion figure for the photoshoot outfit, but judging from the weight of the bag he supposed the outfit was going to be pretty elaborate. He couldn’t expect any less from Walburga, who, despite all her emotional defects, was still a very innovative artist who couldn’t miss the opportunity to showcase the best of her craft leading to the Fashion Week. 

Marlene helped Sirius out of his everyday clothes, careful not to ruin the work she did on his hair. Once Sirius was out of his baggy, brandless sweatshirt and cargo jeans, Marlene let out a strained, worried gasp. Sirius was skinny, much skinnier even compared to the average model, and his skin was as pale and translucent as the snow. It was probably because of his frail frame that the bruises on the left side of his ribcage were so evident. Big, dark bruises, ranging from deep purple, to ocean blue, to emerald grey. Sirius had a whole cosmic system of marks staining his skin, starting from right under his armpit and fading around his hip. Marlene knew better than to press her friend about his rough life, but she couldn't help but stare, her gaze lingering on the bruises a second too long for Sirius’ liking.

“Listen, it’s not that bad, it doesn’t even hurt.” He wasn’t even really lying, it didn’t hurt too much, but it was probably because he was one sip of beer away from being drunk. “I don’t even remember how it happened.” That, on the other hand, was a lie. And it didn’t fool Marlene one bit.

“Yeah, of course you don’t remember.” She rolled her eyes sarcastically, trying to look at anything but the bruises on Sirius before she turned too protective for their own good. “Who did this to you? One of your one night stands? Your parents?”

“Why do you always assume that someone hit me?” Sirius’ signature smirk died a little as he tried to keep up his carefree facade despite feeling like the world was slowly crumbling on top of him. He really should have finished smoking that cigarette. “Maybe I just fell off the stairs or something. I told you I don’t really remember how I got these. Maybe I’ve had an accident with my motorbike.”

“I would have known if something happened to your motorbike, that thing means the world to you.” Marlene chuckled a little, but her smile didn’t reach her worried eyes. “The fact that you’re still here and you haven’t tried to kill yourself is enough proof that your motorbike is fine.”

It took a moment for Sirius to react to Marlene’s joke. The color drained from his face, leaving him a greyish, ghostly shell of himself for a second. Sirius flinched involuntarily, his shoulders hunched in a pitiful attempt at self defense. His lips were frozen in an empty, cracking grin which turned desperate in an instant. Sirius instinctively clenched at his wrist, nails digging into the deep, messy scar that dragged itself along the entirety of his forearm. The scar was tingling, a distant memory of the pain he so desperately needed to forget. A suffocating feeling of dread assaulted him suddenly and with no warning, and Sirius wasn’t really ready to fight back. He was overwhelmed, his skin crawling as all his defenses threatened to crumble; but he stayed strong. He ignored the ringing in his ears and the tingling in his forearms, and he tried to regulate his breathing. Sirius braced himself, focusing on the slightly painful feeling of nails scratching his already minced skin for some sense of twisted, sick comfort. He swallowed the knot in his throat and he regained control of his body. He fixed the cracks on his face, turning his miserable grimace into a more believable smile and then he laughed .

“Yeah, you’re right.” Sirius’ laugh came out more like an aggressive, animalistic bark. “I would have killed myself if something happened to my lovely Harley.” He kept laughing almost hysterically, and all of a sudden he could feel the bruises on his ribcage.

Marlene hesitated, mentally whipping herself. Sirius was very secretive with his personal life, especially when it comes to his traumas, but still Marlene knew. She knew that something was very wrong with Sirius, even though she didn’t know exactly why. She knew about the long, crooked, deep scars on his arms, and even though she didn’t know exactly what happened for Sirius to go that far, she still knew those scars must have been self-inflicted. Marlene was beyond mortified, and she timidly reached out, brushing a hand against Sirius’ bare bicep.

“Sirius, I’m sorry-” She tried to apologize, but Sirius promptly interrupted her with another bark-like half laugh.

“Can you just drop it, uh?” Sirius could feel the tightness in his chest becoming more and more unbearable, his shoulders twitching as he tried to relax to no avail. He let out a miserable, deep, strained sound as he forced the corner of his lips to stretch further and further until his face hurt.

“What is going on here?” Dorcas pushed her way inside the changing area urgently, pulling the curtain tightly behind her. If she noticed the distraught look on Sirius’ face or if she noticed the way Marlene’s eyes glimmered with worry, she didn’t mention it. Instead she stayed focused. She picked the garment bag and took out Sirius’ photoshoot outfit. “Here, let me help you get dressed.”

Sirius held his breath as he studied the elaborate piece of art he was supposed to wear. It was objectively stunning. It was a floor length figure hugging jumpsuit with wide leg pants that almost looked like a flowy skirt. As usual, Walburga didn’t refrain from trying to expose as much of Sirius’ skin as possible. She loved working with lace, and she thrived artistically in the contrast between skin and soft, elegant patterns. Sirius, though, wanted to disappear at the mere idea of walking out in public wearing his own body like an accessory. The top half of the jumpsuit was made entirely out of nude tulle, with layers of intricate snake themed black lace hand sewn on top, strategically covering all the right places while leaving enough space for imagination. The lace faded on gradually onto the pants, which were made out of many asymmetrical layers of thin chiffon, some of which had more layers of lace sewn onto the hem. The jumpsuit was covered in tiny silver crystals, a staple of Walburga’s designs, which were supposed to represent the galaxies. The crystals blended into the lace beautifully and faded onto the pants. 

Sirius slid into the jumpsuit gracefully, delighted to find out that it fit him perfectly despite the fact that he hadn’t been eating according to his diet for a few days. The jumpsuit closed in the back with a long streak of tiny black buttons. It took a while to squeeze Sirius inside, and Dorcas had to use a handy little tool to get each button inside its tiny hole. The top half of the jumpsuit hugged his body like a glow, and it seemed as if the lace was sewn directly onto his skin. Fortunately the sides of the bodice were entirely covered up, hiding the bruises perfectly. The lace faded towards the centre of his chest and back, and Sirius noticed that his mother had designed a gorgeous crystal embroidery representing the canis major constellation that sparkled right above his sternum. The sleeves were tight, enhancing his frail body shape, and they had lace snakes twisting around Sirius’ arm. The nude tulle left his forearms quite exposed, and Sirius could very well notice his scars peaking through the lace. Sirius felt immediately self conscious, but he was relieved enough when Dorcas lended him a pair of velvet black gloves, which were another staple of the BLACK label. 

“Here, your gloves.” Dorcas sighed. “Put them on before I hear your mother complain about your scars again. I can’t really deal with that shit today.”

Walburga began implementing gloves or intricate arm jewelry in almost every design of hers ever since Sirius got his scars. It made him feel less self conscious, but his mother never failed to make him feel bad about this countermeasure with her snarky remarks. Either way, Sirius slid his hands and forearms into the soft velvety gloves gleefully, loving the way they matched the dark layers of the pants in such a beautiful way.

The jumpsuit came with a simple set of jewelry, which consisted of a pair of silver crystal earrings and a simple silver chain choker. Marlene gave Sirius’ hair some final touches, spraying some loose strands down. Dorcas clicked her tongue, giving her team a satisfied nod when she took a look at the final result.

Sirius stared at himself in the mirror, desperately trying to see traces of himself through the layers of lace and crystals. He felt beautiful, of course, especially with the intricate updo that Marlene did, making his hair look alive again. But he didn’t fully feel like himself. The dress was heavy, pressing down on Sirius and squeezing his sore muscles mercilessly. Still, he smiled, the gloss on his lips making him shine.

“You look wonderful, Sirius.” Dorcas granted him a gentle, understanding smile. She knew, deep down, that Sirius wasn’t comfortable, but they both knew the job was done flawlessly. “Come, let your parents see their muse.”

Sirius allowed Dorcas to guide him through the studio, her gentle hand carefully pushing his back. All the employees stopped whatever they were doing to be blessed by the sight of Sirius. He was, indeed, the supermodel if any of those veterans of the fashion industry had ever seen one. Sirius effortlessly devoured an elegant walk on high heels, less poised than his impeccable catwalk, but still impressive enough considering that he was just chilling in the backstage of a photography studio. Being stared at was a huge confidence boot for Sirius, who immediately felt better about himself despite his messy and complicated feelings.

“Here he is, the hottest bitch in the UK.” Said a tall, sun-kissed guy with a warm and bright smile plastered on his full lips. Sirius turned around to greet his best friend, and official photographer, James Potter. 

“What do you mean the hottest bitch in the UK?” Sirius rolled his eyes dramatically, offering an elegant, yet confident little pose. “I’m the hottest bitch in the universe.”

“But of course.” James nodded in approval, his camera already in hand. “Let me look at you… Mate, you look lit.” He was wearing a golden pair of ful vue glasses, with a matching gold chain hanging from each hinge. Two sun charms dropped from each edge of the chain, framing James’ well structured face beautifully. With a swift gesture James fixed the glasses on his nose, then grinned at his friend mischievously.

“So, do you feel inspired by my godlike beauty?” Sirius twirled on himself, the layers of chiffon expanding and engulfing his legs like a dark, sparkly tornado.

“How can anyone not feel inspired in your presence.” James quickly checked the settings of his camera, his hazel eyes shimmering as he focused on the tiny screen.

“Potter, father and I are done setting up the lights to his likings, but I’d like your approval. Do you have a second?” Regulus sounded exhausted and, quite frankly, done. Sirius could only imagine how draining it can be to work alongside their father, who was just as stubborn and dense as Sirius himself.

“Of course.” James winked at Regulus, much to the young Black’s annoyance. Then he turned to Sirius and whispered. “Just give me a second and I’ll be all yours.” he blew Sirius a playful kiss, before joining his assistants to overview the setup. “Peter, can you help me with that softbox?”

“You look great, by the way.” Regulus looked at Sirius attentively, his stern features shifting into a soft, thin smile. He still had his sketchbook secured under his arm, jealousy hiding his own avant garde fashion designs.

“Thanks.” Sirius let out a chuckle. He slightly tilted his head, the soft curls that Marlene framed around his face falling to the side, brushing his shoulder. 

“Do you feel comfortable?” Regulus gave his big brother a knowing look.

Sirius shrugged, his angular shoulders looked even sharper thanks to an optical illusion archived through well placed lace patterns. “I’m comfortable enough. This thing is heavy, though.” He scoffed.

“It looks heavy.” Regulus’ smile widened just a little, which was a rare sight for sore eyes; one that Sirius cherished dearly as an older brother. “I don’t envy you.”

“Hi, gorgeous.” hummed a pretty ginger girl, sliding in between Sirius and Regulus, unknowingly interrupting their brotherly conversation. 

“Hello, Evans.” A charming smile appeared on Sirius’ face as he greeted the girl. He almost didn’t notice when Regulus walked off hurriedly, summoned by their father who still wasn’t satisfied with the light set up. 

He knew her fairly well, her name was Lily Evans and she was the lead fashion journalist for the same magazine James worked for. James was very fond of her, both as a professional and as a person. Lily was beautiful in a way Sirius couldn’t fully comprehend, as he couldn't really find any woman attractive no matter what, but he could see why James always spoke so lovingly about her brilliant green eyes. She always wandered around with her fellow editor, a thin, grumpy, pale guy named something like Snape. The guy looked like a ghost, with a pen always tucked behind his hair and hidden in between his greasy black hair. Snape always scrutinized the people around him, clenching at his notebook, trying to milk interesting stories out of everyone. James never spoke fondly of the slimy editor, and that may have influenced Sirius’ opinion quite a bit. Sirius liked Evans, but he just didn’t like Snape for any particular reasons. So, when the editor got to Lily’s side, Sirius instinctively stepped back. 

“Could you grant me a small interview for The Quibbler?” Lily purred friendly, her voice vibrating. 

“Maybe later.” Sirius offered her an apologetic, yet undeniably captivating grin. “I've got a photoshoot to carry out in a second. Maybe you can talk to Mr. and Mrs. Black themselves in the meanwhile?” Sirius had to resist the urge to roll his eyes, all the muscles of his face tensing as he tried not to frown his eyebrows or snarl twistingly.

“Ugh, your parents won't even acknowledge me.” Lily, on the other hand, didn’t hesitate in showing her disappointment all over her face. “They brushed me off like I was nothing. I think your mother wants me dead.” She scoffed, her rosy lips curling downwards. 

“They're working now, Lily.” Snape sighed, shaking his head slightly. “Maybe we should just wait, Black will talk to us after he’s done.”

“You're right, Sev…” Lily nodded, sliding her arm under Snape’s and squeezing him a little. “See you later, then! Have a nice shoot!” She waved gently at Sirius and the two walked away, mumbling to each other about their ideas for upcoming articles regarding the Fashion Week.

Sirius let out a deep breath as people kept talking to him. Some employees simply complimented him, others were asking questions about the upcoming work, and Sirius was only half listening to them and trying not to be too rude with his quick and cold replies. The jumpsuit was not only heavy, but heavy . Like, suffocatingly so. And maybe it was the lack of the right amount of nicotine in his brain to smooth out his thoughts, but he was feeling nervous and self conscious. It was easy to hide his anxieties under his signature grin, lifting his chin with an air of arrogant composure, but deep inside he just wanted to drown most of the time.

“You’re trembling.” Dorcas pushed her hand deep on Sirius’ back, making him flinch. He hadn’t even noticed that he was shivering, ever so slightly, but one could definitely tell if they were to pay enough attention to him , and not just the supermodel. “Bite the bullet. Your mother is coming.” Dorcas warned, and it only made the shivering worse for a second.

But Sirius did bite the bullet, as always. He was especially good at pretending, it was his job after all. Gathering all his mental strength, he gritted his teeth so hard his head hurt and his temples burned. It was a torture, but he swallowed the uncomfortable feelings and buried them deep inside his heart, where his mother couldn’t reach even if she actually cared. He heard Walburga's rhythmic clicking of heels before he saw her. Sirius’ lips stretched, his expression cocky as he exposed himself at her mercy. His mother looked at him up and down, her straight, thin eyebrows frowned until the inner edges almost touched. She clicked her tongue, walking around her son, her eyes analyzing every inch of him. Her mouth twitched with dissatisfaction. Sirius wasn't expecting a positive reaction from her, of course, not even after receiving so many compliments from all the employees. Walburga always found things to criticize, things to complain about, she was ready to dissect Sirius' work mercilessly at any moment. Sometimes, she complained about such trivial, minor things that Sirius didn't even take her seriously, brushing her off with a scoff. But other times, Walburga really knew what to say to hurt him. Sirius couldn't even tell if she did it on purpose, if she truly hated him or not, because she could be truly evil at times, visceral even.

“You’ve gained weight.” Walburga's tone was cold and distant as she pinched Sirius’ waist. He jumped a little when she dug her fingers into his side, unknowingly tantalizing his bruised rib cage. Sirius bit his tongue, pained and humiliated, lowering his gaze in utter shame. “Thank goodness I made the seamstresses leave an extra inch allowance. I knew you’d make a fool out of yourself and eat like a pig. You always try to ruin everything for us before important events, uh? Between this and your drinking problem-” Walburga spoke quite calmly, as if the horrific words she was spatting weren't sharp knives slicing Sirius apart. He lowered his gaze, mortified, suddenly feeling every single pound, every single little fold of his body where his mother managed to twist her fingers. “From tomorrow you’ll follow a stricter diet, and pray that you will fit properly in your runway pieces in time for the big show.”

Walburga slid two fingers in the space between Sirius’ neck and the upper hem of the bodice, fixing the tulle to make it sit better on his skin. She adjusted the fabric meticulously, maneuvering her son around as if he was a rag doll. Sirius sat still, letting his mother touch and fix without bothering her too much. He really couldn't take any more unprompted comments about his weight, of all things. Walburga kept tossing Sirius around, brutalizing every edge of his mind. It took some tucking and brushing to get the fabric to work exactly the way she wanted, and the whole time she kept darting disappointed looks at her son. Sirius scrolled his shoulders, staring ahead. Walburga clicked her tongue again, but after a few more adjustments she seemed decently satisfied. 

“Here, now you look acceptable.” Walburga nodded, but her face didn’t really betray her emotions. She pinched Sirius’ chin, lifting his head so that they were eye to eye. “Use your face, sell this dress like your life depends on it.”

Use your face . Those words awakened something in Sirius, that something that made him the impeccable model he was. Grit, determination, immense strength of character built after years of enduring and fighting with himself. Sirius grinned, looking sideways at his mother with an intense fire burning in his silver eyes. “Of course, mother.” 

Finally, Walburga seemed fully pleased with the way Sirius turned into a perfect product. She built her son to react the way she wanted, to wear her art the way she wanted, to be beautiful just the way she wanted. That defiant, untamed look in his eyes was exactly what she needed to sell her collections. 

“Perfect.” Walburga snarled, matching the wild look on her son’s face. “Is the set ready?” she asked the staff, her voice screeching through the studio.

“We’re good to go, Mrs. Black!” Peter Pettigrew squeaked, almost tumbling over a tangle of cables. He was James’ most trusted assistant and, despite being a little clumsy and awkward around big crews, he was really good at his job.

James nodded in approval, checking his test shots and fixing some minor settings on his camera. Once the ISO was calibrated properly, James gave the team a thumbs up, fixing his glasses with his wrist.

Sirius braced himself, tightening his jaw. Walburga accompanied him towards the main set area, and then she sat herself on a high chair, ready to direct the shooting with her husband. Regulus guided Sirius to the centre of the set, careful not to touch the jumpsuit and ruin their mother's meticulous work. The atmosphere on set was dark and they were using a soft grey backdrop: the signature style for the brand. Sirius positioned himself in between two big softboxes, right where the lights were hitting his face and body at all the right angles. James messed with his camera settings for another minute, finding the correct point of focus so that all the intricate details of the outfit would show in the photos. 

Orion was looming on the side of the set, walking menacingly up and down the studio, keeping everything under strict control. He was wearing one of the suits he designed himself, proudly showing the logo of the house of BLACK embroidered on the front pocket of his jacket. The black silk lapel doubled elegantly over his padded shoulders, making him look even larger and more intimidating than he already was. Orion's designs were much more slick and simple compared to his wife's. If Walburga focused her energies on designing couture and runway pieces, Orion was the backbone of the more commercial side of the brand. Harmony, luxury and elegance above all. Orion was, all things considered, a simple man with a simple mind. He focused on whatever made the brand sell, whatever made the brand thrive, and that was all that truly mattered to him. 

Orion stared at his supermodel son, the best asset in his business, and he let out a discontented scoff. “You've gained weight.” He said.

Well, at least Walburga and Orion were still on the same wavelength even after twenty five years of marriage. Sirius couldn’t even bring himself to be upset about the absurdity of the comment; a small part of him was even amused at how terrible both his parents could be, in equal ways.

Instead Sirius widened his grin, his gaze darkening. “Seems like it, apparently.” he hissed under his breath, striking the most outrageous pose he could think of at the moment. 

Flash

“Father…” Regulus murmured in protest, half hidden behind one of the softboxes. “Sirius needs to focus right now.”

“You'd better fit in your outfits for the runway.” Orion spoke coldly, just like his equally cold wife, his words cutting deeper inside Sirius’ hidden wounds.

Flash

Sirius swallowed, sticking his tongue to the roof of his mouth to make his jaw and under chin look more defined. He instinctively sucked in, clenching his abdominal muscles. His body curved unnaturally inwards, his perfectly flat tum arching in a concave line, smashing his insides. His parents loved when Sirius managed to reshape his body in impossible ways, the fabrics curling around him grotesquely. It hurt, but he was used to it.

Flash

Sirius’ gaze was out of this world. He stared at the camera hungrily, angrily, his silver irises glowing with their own consuming light. It was as if he wanted to crawl through the camera lenses and possess the souls of whoever dared to look at his photos. Peter directed Sirius’ dangerous gaze, and James’ camera followed the sharp movements with maniacal precision. 

Flash

Sirius hunched his edgy shoulders forward, creating a long, continuous curve going from the tip of his chin, through the angle of his arms and elbows, and twirling in between the concave area of his hollow stomach area. He held the pose for a long time, feelings his muscles tense to the point of almost snapping.

Flash

“Hold it for me, gorgeous.” James hummed happily, crunching down in an uncomfortable position to snap photos from a new angle. “You’re doing amazing.”

Sirius tilted his head, offering his photographer the best view on the bare skin of his neck and the perfectly sculpted juncture where it met with his jaw. His pale skin glowed, contrasting beautifully with the pitch black lace of the jumpsuit.

Flash

Sirius folded in half, digging his hands in the sides of his waist and pushing . He squeezed, hands almost fully circling his waist as he exhaled all the air in his lungs. The veins on his neck throbbed as he kept pushing and pushing , stretching his body to reach new lengths. He glared at the camera, lips sealed in a stern snarl.

Flash

“Perfect! That one was perfect!” James pushed himself back up, moaning dramatically as he cracked his back. He showed the raw photo to his assistant Peter, and he too smiled happily at the sight. James checked his settings some more, his head bouncing to the sides, the two sun charms at the end of the chain of his glasses dangling. He was visibly happy with his job so far, and that much was enough to lift Sirius’ morale a little. “Now, give a little more prrr and a little less grrr .” 

James’ theatrical tone was too amusing to resist. Sirius let out a muffled chuckle, momentarily losing control over himself and letting his body relax, his perfect shapes crumbling.

“Stay focused.” Orion snapped, glaring at Sirius. “Listen to Potter and do as you’re told.”

Sirius transformed in a blink of an eye, his muscles tensing in an intricate pose again. His gaze softened in a more seductive look, his gaze piercing through the camera. He traced the outline of his torso with a hand, slowly brushing the lace until James crackled contently. 

“Yes, like that!” James positioned himself, his knees on the floor. He moved to the side, his lips twitching as he searched for the perfect angle. “Hold it! Hold it!”

Sirius gave his best performance by looking so effortlessly delicate and suggestive, while locking every inch of his body as if he was a statue. His body was such a malleable tool, capable of reshaping itself with little to no limits. Sirius turned into a ravishing kitten, silently purring at the camera. His provocative leer shifted into a captivating smirk and he yielded.

Flash 

James pushed himself back up, oohing as he checked the last few photos he took. He fixed his glasses, playing with one of the sun charms as he and Peter mumbled to each other for a second, passing the camera. Regulus timidly pushed himself forward, trying to catch glimpses of the photo previews. James and Peter handed the camera to Orion, who carefully checked the pictures himself, showing the best ones to Walburga who simply nodded in distant approval every now and then. James winked at Sirius and he waved at him, as to give him permission to relax. But Sirius didn’t allow himself a single moment of rest as he waited for feedback from his parents, keeping his body fully tense despite the underlying pain. The photoshoot lasted a good two hours until that point, and Sirius managed to break his ligaments and reposition his body in dozens of different poses. He was tired and sore, but he managed.

Orion and Walburga discussed something with James and Sirius waited . Regulus managed to steal some glimpses at the photos and he gave his brother a proud, precious little nod. That made Sirius almost falter, as there was nothing that got him more than his baby brother being happy with him. But Sirius still remained focused. He noticed with the corner of his eye that Evans and Snape were hovering nearby, notebooks and pens in hand, patiently waiting for the shoot to end. Sirius really wanted to teleport back home at that very moment, but he held the last pose a little longer as he braced himself from what was to come. 

“It’s a wrap.” Orion finally announced coldly, dismissing the team. Not a single good job everyone , just a stoic nod as the sole stamp of approval. But it was enough and Sirius instantly relaxed. 

“Go get changed, Sirius, and then go talk to the journalists.” Walburga ordered, fixing her coat and walking out with a second glance. 

Sirius could feel his muscles hissing like meat fried in a pan. His disjointed, weirdly flexed limbs shrunk back to their usual position, and his back rolled back slowly into an erect state. His vertebrae cracked a little, sending uncomfortable vibrations to his brain, but Sirius was glad to know that his body still behaved humanly, even if with some flaws. He stretched his muscles, careful not to rip the delicate seams of the jumpsuit, feeling the comfort of allowing his body to move at its own rate. He ached a little, his neck was basically stuck, his feet were burning, and he just wanted to lay down and either sleep or drink or have sex or do whatever could help his body melt and relax.

“The photos look incredible.” Regulus spoke genuinely. His voice had a quiet, reserved tone to it which rarely betrayed too much emotions, but Sirius could read his baby brother like an open book. “Even mom and dad are happy with the results, I assure you.”

“Thank you, Reg.” Sirius massaged the back of his neck, trying to transform the pained grimace on his face into a smile. He managed to twist some muscles in his cheeks, but the result wasn't too pretty.

“You always manage to amaze me!” James’ smile on the other hand was wide and full of joy as he showed Sirius some of the previews straight from the little camera screen. “Today you were on fire, there’s not a single shot I do not like.”

“We won’t even have to work too much in post production, you’re just perfect like this.” Peter mumbled timidly. 

Sirius arched his eyebrow as he looked at the previews, trying not to focus too much on the curves of his body; his parents’ remark about his weight were still echoing in his head. Instead he focused on the beautiful contrast between lights and shadow, and James' mastery in capturing every detail of the jumpsuit with an incredible use of the camera lens.

“I know I'm amazing, modestly.” Sirius snarled haughtily. He stared at one photo preview in particular, one in which his eyes was particularly angry. He was devouring the camera with just one glance, a big fuck you to the viewer, and Sirius couldn't help being proud of himself. “What would you people do without me?”

“We’d be stranded.” Regulus rolled his eyes sarcastically. “Let’s get you changed, so you can do your interview and then we can go home.” I'm exhausted , Regulus thought, but he kept that to himself. His voice softened a little as he fixed his sketchbook under his arm. “I've drawn some new projects this morning, would you like to take a look at them this evening?”

Sirius grinned in anticipation. “Of course, mon petit artiste.”

☆☆☆

It was a few days before London Fashion Week, and Remus Lupin was an utter mess.

He sat at his favorite coffee shop with his hands in his hair, drowning his misery in a freezing cup of iced macchiato. The place was cozy, and Remus always sat at the same table in the corner right by the window. It wasn't a popular place and it was rarely crowded, so it was easy for Remus to relax a little. At least as long as his coffee lasted.

For an aspiring seamster like him, the upcoming Fashion Week could be a great opportunity to find new jobs and meet new people that could help him thrive in the industry. He tried for months to get his name out into the market, sending email after email to all kinds of scouting ads for important brands.

But it was a few days before London Fashion Week, and Remus Lupin still didn't have a job.

He scratched one of the three scars that split his face in half, anxiously tracing its whole length, from the edge of his eyebrow, down to his upper lip. He drained half of the iced macchiato all in one breath, and his brain instantly froze. Remus focused on the painful, numbing sensation hoping it would erase all his anxious thoughts. But as soon as his brain cells adapted to the sensation, all his worries came crushing him down once again.

Remus refreshed his email box again, having lost his hopes. No brand even cared to reply, not even to tell him to fuck off. It was as if he didn't exist. The last email he got was from Tesco informing him that his clubcard had expired. He couldn’t even go grocery shopping in peace anymore. Remus drank the other half of the bitter iced macchiato, feeling sorry for himself. 

At twenty five, a few days before London Fashion Week, Remus Lupin managed to reach a new level of emotional rock bottom.

Remus wanted to make a difference. He wanted to get far in life, and he wanted to do so solely relying on himself. When he left home to live on his own as soon as he turned eighteen, he was naive and full of hopes. Job hopping was stressful and unfulfilling, and living in a miserable flat with three other roommates was becoming unbearable. But no matter how much he tried, life just didn't seem to want to see him succeed. 

Remus clutched his cane in frustration, shifting his weight from one hip to the other, trying to find some comfort. He gritted his teeth, hearing the grim sound of his articulations cracking at the slightest movement. He had been sitting for way too long in the same hunched position, too worried about his email box to even consider the slowly increasing pain in his legs. As if the emotional turmoil wasn’t enough, he had to deal with his body throwing a tantrum as well. He scoffed, and as he was getting up to pay and leave, his phone buzzed. He immediately checked his notifications, hoping it would be a last minute call for a life changing job, but he was sort of disappointed to see it was just a message from the group chat he had with his roommates.

Remus barely had time to send the message when his phone rang, startling him. He didn't recognize the number, but the fact that the call wasn't automatically redirected to the spam box made him pick up almost immediately.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Remus John Lupin?” Asked a deep male voice from the other side of the phone. The guy had a weirdly posh accent.

“That would be me.” Remus squeezed his phone so hard he could have smashed it.

“I'm Rodolphus Lestrange, and I'm contacting you on behalf of the creative department of the BLACK label.” Rodolphus spoke professionally, emphasizing each word. “We've received your email containing your portfolio, and we were impressed with your work. Due to an unexpected staff shortage, we are in need of one more set of hands backstage for the runway show on Saturday. We apologize for the short notice, but we were wondering if you'd be available on said date.”

Remus’ heart skipped a beat and for a second the world seemed to stop. He had to lean onto his cane to steady himself, catching his breath. A strained, surprised little yelp escaped his mouth as he tried to comprehend the situation. Remus double checked his phone, to make himself actually believe that the call was real and that he wasn’t having a psychotic episode of some sorts. His stomach clenched, insides twisting and he just couldn’t hold back his joy.

“Of course!” Remus replied a little too loud, a little too frantic. He bit his tongue, whipping himself mentally. But he couldn’t help himself, he was just too happy. “Of course, that would be an honor for me, sir.”

“Very well. I will send you your contract via mail in a matter of minutes, I would need you to email me back a signed copy by this evening.” 

Sirius felt a lump form in his throat, words tangling at the tip of his tongue. “I-I… Yes, that will be done.” He was overwhelmed by a wave of emotions, his voice a mix of hope and disbelief. “Thank you, sir, for your consideration.”

“We’ll see you on Saturday, then. Have a nice rest of your day, Mr. Lupin”

“Have a nice day.” 

Remus almost collapsed, his right hip stiffening as the rest of his body vibrated with emotions. He couldn’t believe his ears, but he allowed himself to be fucking happy for once. He smiled, lips stretched so widely that he felt his scars tingle a little. He was going to work backstage during one of the most awaited runway shows of the Fashion Week. The name BLACK was synonymous with success, and Remus was about to get there with his own forces. He chuckled in trepidation at the mere idea, and he picked up his phone again. He stared at the group chat with his roomates for a second, then he typed:

Chapter Text

On the day of the runway show, Sirius was as stressed as a human could be before exploding.

Five hours before the main event and he was already exhausted. The backstage was a mess of people running around in circles, some screaming, some hissing directions, some bumping into Sirius’ makeup station and drawing him insane. The lights were too bright, too cold, too flashy, and the air inside the venue was dense with tension and sweat. 

Sirius kept aggressively rubbing moisturizer on his face, until his face hurt and felt dry again. He repeated the motion robotically for who knows how many times, and it still didn’t help him feel any cleaner or calmer. The venue insisted on blasting air conditioning despite it being the end of February, as the hard working crew was complaining about the heat. Sirius could feel the back of his neck freezing and he shrunk inside his baggy, warm clothes, trying to stop the shivering. He had always been sensitive to cold, ever since he was a child. It bothered him deeply, especially because his mother always dressed him in designs made almost entirely of lace and tulle, which didn’t really provide much warmth. He rubbed moisturizer around his nose and under eye area, again, and he whined.

His body was scaringly close to shutting down. Sirius didn’t even know how he managed to keep himself going, when literally every inch of himself hurt inside and out. He pinched his cheeks, fingers slipping due to excessive amounts of face cream. Sirius stared at himself in the mirror and he barely recognized himself. His face was pale , and not the kind of pale that his mother so dearly loved. He was pale like a corpse, his skin leaning towards a greyish undertone that only enhanced the hollow lines under his cheekbones. He looked huggard and dry, no matter how many products he kept forcing into his pores. His neck looked almost disproportionately slim compared to his face and shoulders, bluish veins popping out grimly. Sirius didn’t know how he would be able to walk a runway show looking like that, but at least he found some relief in knowing that he did manage to lose a significant amount of weight in the days prior. The day of the photoshoot left him with a sour taste in his mouth, both literally and figuratively. His parents’ words hurt him to the point that he found it easy to completely give up on food to get to his weight goal. He was thin just like his parents wanted, but his pretty face paid the price.

“Hello, pretty boy.” James hummed and he startled Sirius, who wasn’t really paying too much attention to his surroundings at that point, too lost in his own self-pitying misery. “You look good today.” He said, his tone gentle but betraying a bittersweet, sarcastic tone.

“Are you kidding me?” Sirius scoffed, glaring at his friend. “I look like a battered dog.”

“It’s not that bad.” James shrugged, his bronze skin glowing beautifully under the led light surrounding Sirius’ makeup mirror. “To everyone else I bet you look just as gorgeous as always. I just know you too well, and I notice when you’re feeling down.”

“Oh, all mighty Potter.” Sirius rubbed his eyes, pressing down as if wanted to push his eyeballs deep inside his skull. “I’m just so done .”

“I know, I feel you.” James sighed, scratching the back of Sirius’ nape until he felt his friend’s muscles relax a bit. “These past weeks have been difficult, but today is the big event and things will get a little better from tomorrow, I promise.”

Sirius whined in pain, leaning into his friend’s touch, holding on for dear life. “It never gets better, and you know it.” he bit the insides of his lips, trying to ignore the way his empty stomach clenched and twisted. His whole body protested for freedom and substance, both things that Sirius was actively forced to deny himself. “My life is just too unfair, don’t you think?”

A small, bitter chuckle escaped James. He looked at his friend with such pitiful hazel eyes, tilting his head. “You poor thing, a prince caged in a golden prison.” he pouted, rubbing circles around Sirius’ scalp.

“You’re messing with me.” Sirius groaned dramatically, yielding. “You’re so mean.” He bent forward when his stomach grumbled a little too painfully, folded in half. He wailed, the unhealed injuries on his side aching unbearably. 

The bruises only got worse during the previous days, turning all different colours and hurting a lot more since he began losing weight more aggressively. Sirius didn’t seem to be healing, as if his body had given up all together. Even breathing was difficult, his ribcage protesting as every sudden movement only made the bruises hurt more. It didn’t help that Sirius never fully acknowledged his injured side, refusing to even look at his bare body in the mirror for more than half a second and only if he really couldn’t help it. He didn’t apply any ointment or medical plaster, leaving his body to deal with itself. 

“What’s wrong?” James’ eyes grew wild with alarm and he arched an eyebrow, his expression hardening with worry. He searched Sirius’ eyes with so much care and understanding, trying to explore the depth of his friend’s sorrowful mind.

“‘s nothing.” Sirius hissed in dismissal, clenching his teeth and pressing a trembling hand right where the bruises hurt . 

“Sirius, you can’t fool me.” James murmured, his tone softening. He pulled Sirius close and he attempted a reassuring smile. “I’m your best friend for a reason. You know you can trust me, mh?” He cupped Sirius’ face in his hands, trying to ease his mood. James could sense Sirius’ pain as if it was his own, his head throbbing in unison with his friend’s. “Tell me what happened, you’ll suffer more if you keep bottling stuff inside.”

Sirius shivered under James’ gentle touch, and he had to restrain himself from flinching. “Mh…” He hesitated, swallowing the lump in his throat. Sirius trusted James with his life, and he genuinely felt safe enough to be completely true to himself only with him. But it was so hard to lower his defenses, especially when he was starved and in pain. “It hurts-” Sirius admitted, lowering his gaze.

“And why does it hurt?” James soothed, his voice barely above a whisper. He managed a friendly smile, but Sirius couldn’t bring himself to return it.

“I’ve got some bruises…” Sirius could feel his pulse racing, his heart thumping against his battered ribcage like a trapped bird desperate to escape. It hurt so much, but the words died in his throat. James was looking at him, expecting something, expecting trust. “I’ve been… going out with this guy…” His stomach churned, and he tasted bile in the back of his throat. 

“Some guy, alright.” James allowed his friend some space to gather his thoughts. His warm, gentle eyes were huge behind his thick lenses. 

Sirius instinctively reached for one of those cute sun charms dangling from his friend’s glasses, and he played with it. James looked at his best friend with so much care, so much love, that Sirius almost dropped to his knees. He wanted to give up appearances and cry, and he knew it was safe to cry in front of James. But he couldn’t. Sirius couldn’t break down, or else it would be the end for him.

“Yeah, I mean, just- a guy.” Sirius shrugged and grinned, trying to diminish the gravity of the situation. James grabbed his hand, squeezing tightly. He chuckled in despair, his starved brain sending mixed signals to his weak body. “Let’s say I was looking for a wild night, you know? A bit of rough sex, some slaps on the ass-” His grin slipped away, revealing the pain and desperation hidden underneath. Sirius knew that he couldn’t keep up with James, with his witty sense of empathy. His friend’s smile was so inviting and comforting, and Sirius felt like he was being sucked in a whirlpool of emotions. “I guess the guy took my suggestions a little too… literally?” 

“He hit you.” James spoke matter-of-factly, his tone sympathetic but betraying a sense of urgency. He took a deep breath, trying to stay calm and positive for Sirius’ sake, but his eyes were burning with unspoken anger.

“Got me a little too drunk and then he beat the living shit out of me, yeah.” Sirius admitted, squeezing James’ hand a little too hard, trying to remain grounded in the present. “At least he fucked me good after that.” Sirius let out a strained sound, a mix between a sob and a twisted, desperate, broken chuckle. Hurt and pleasure always went hand in hand to him, and oftentimes he couldn't recall the moment he stopped enjoying it and crying for it to stop. His brain worked a little too slowly at times, a little too painfully. Sirius needed a drink. “It hurts, but I can handle it.”

James let Sirius’ words sink in, his skin crawling at the implications. He failed to understand how anyone could hurt his friend, and he failed to understand how Sirius could live with it as if it was nothing. “Do I know this piece of shit?” James gritted his teeth, his friendly, warm smile turning into a mad snarl. It didn’t intimidate Sirius, not at all. It made him feel safe, seen, loved, in a twisted and distorted way.

“No, I barely knew him myself.” Sirius’ shoulders slumped, adrenaline washing off his limbs all at once, leaving him impossibly drained. “Met him online on some weird sites for sickos like me. So, like, I can't even complain too much.” Sirius could feel his eyes swelling up with tears He refused to shed. “I asked for it.”

“You didn't ask to be-” James hesitated, biting his tongue, his throat clenching around the word he couldn't speak. Abused . Sirius didn't ask to be abused.

James knew Sirius too well, too intimately, and he was aware of the fact that words scared the shit out of him. James always had to think and ponder carefully his choices of words in front of Sirius, trying not to trigger his messed up defense mechanisms. Sirius tended to ignore certain topics, he needed to pretend that some things just didn't exist or at least didn't happen to him . Abuse was one concept that simply didn't exist in Sirius’ head. To cope with his miserable life, Sirius had deluded himself to a world of falsehoods that were too good to be true. It was as if speaking the name of certain things could make them become real, too real, too vivid. Words were like lethal weapons when it came to Sirius, one that hurt more than the physical acts. James shook his head, letting out a defeated groan. 

“You’re going to be the death of me, Sirius.” James fixed his glasses and shook his head, his jaw clenched. “Between your one night stand psychos and your parents-”

“What about my parents?” Sirius snapped, his stomach clenching in visceral recoilment.

“They hit you as well.” James sighed, feeling exhausted. Sometimes talking to Sirius felt more like talking to a very condescending, spoiled, annoying child. James was a patient man, and thank goodness for that. Sirius didn’t need to be bullied into recognizing that he was a victim, that he needed help. But sometimes Sirius needed to be pushed a little bit out of his unsafely constricted comfort zone. “They've been hitting you for years.”

“Yeah, but not like this.” Sirius scoffed, pointing at his ribcage. James couldn’t see the damage because Sirius was fully dressed, but he could imagine it.

“I’ve seen your parents leave bruises on you multiple times.” James found himself mumbling pathetically, too distraught by the defiant look in his friend’s eyes. It was hard, trying to coax Sirius into believing in the injustices he was facing while simultaneously watching him retreat at every attempt.

“Not like this.” Sirius stated firmly, with that authoritarian tone that he inherited from none other than his parents. His eyes had a hunted look to them that James knew far too well.

The preparations for the runway show continued around them. The catwalk was being set up, employees carrying big plexiglass blocks around and bumping into things. James clicked his tongue as he decided to not push Sirius any further, especially when he had such an important impending job to do. The air backstage was tense enough, and no one needed the opening model to have a mental breakdown a few hours before the show. James searched the back pocket of his jeans, reaching for the blister pack of paracetamol he always carried around during stressful work days.

“Here, take one of these.” James slid the painkillers into Sirius’ hand, clenching his jaw. “Just one.” 

Sirius’ eyes glimmered at the sight of the tablets as if he was a child looking at a bag of candies. He reluctantly obeyed, taking only one tiny tablet and bringing it to his mouth. Before he could swallow, though, James grabbed his wrist urgently and Sirius flinched.

“Did you eat something?” James’ fingers completely circled Sirius’ wrist, clenching around the edges of his bones. “You should eat something before taking a painkiller. I can bring you a snack? Do you want something sweet?”

“I ate already.” Sirius snapped defensively. It was a lie, of course. The last time Sirius ‘ ate ’ something was half an apple the day before, and he had to resist the urge to vomit it out of pure desperation. 

“When? Like, for lunch?” James lifted one of his thick, dark eyebrows, unconvinced. “Either way, I’m giving you the stronger dosage on the market, you should still eat something now .”

Sirius rolled his eyes, annoyed. “You know my mother doesn’t allow me to eat anything backstage.” He scoffed, but he was happy with his mother’s absurd rules for once. He really, really didn’t feel like eating. “Come on, mate, it’s not like I’m going to die.”

“You might get a stomach ulcer, if you don’t have one already.” James stared at the ceiling for an uncomfortable amount of time, trying to suppress his frustration. The last thing he wanted was lashing out at Sirius when he clearly needed support, but James found it harder and harder to be the better person as their friendship progressed. “It wouldn’t shock me to know that your stomach is already in shambles, seeing how you treat yourself.” He muttered, unable to help himself. Sometimes he just wanted to grab Sirius and physically shake some sense into that dulled, traumatized brain. “And guess what, you could die if your stomach explodes or something.”

Sirius hesitated a second, his thoughts spiraling in a direction he didn’t really want to go through again. Somehow the notion that he could be slowly killing himself with his poor choices in what he puts into his stomach didn’t scare him the way it should. And Sirius really tried to feel the weight of James’ words, especially because his friend’s tone was firm and dark. James wasn’t joking or exaggerating, he was actually worried. Death was really fucking scary thing to most, something to avoid at all cost. James wanted to protect Sirius. For some sick reason, it only made Sirius want to take the whole blister pack of painkillers.

“Don’t be mean to me, Jamie.” Sirius whined, suddenly feeling so hungry for some chemical relief. “I’m in pain, have mercy. Don’t you feel pity for me?”

“Just one, Sirius.” James had to look away, unable to resist his friend’s pathetic gaze when he fluttered his long eyelashes like that. Sirius always affected James’ heart like sweet poison, and James always bended at his best friend’s wishes, no matter the underlying danger. “And know that I do not approve.”

Sirius grinned victoriously and he swallowed the tablet of paracetamol without even bothering to get some water. His throat protested the dry intrusion, but he ignored the uncomfortable feeling, letting out a satisfied breath. “I’m feeling better already, thank you mate. You’re the best.”

“Whatever.” James exhaled and he dared a friendly squeeze on Sirius' shoulder. He tried not to register the bony feeling underneath. “You can’t drink and you can’t take any other weird pill you’ve got. No mixing medications with alcohol and drugs.” he spoke severely, gaining an exasperated moan from Sirius.

“You cunt!” Sirius protested, punching James’ arm. “You should have reminded me earlier! How am I supposed to go through this show today without a drink?” He was actually distressed at the mere thought, pouting and frowning. 

“I don’t know you could actually try to be sober for once?” James attempted a smirk, but he couldn’t bear the conversation any longer. Sirius was impossible to handle at times, he was so disconnected from reality that it hurt to be around him. James could handle dealing with Sirius speaking openly about hurting himself so long, before it started affecting him too.

“I can’t even smoke here, this venue is the worst .” Sirius slammed his head on the makeup table a little too hard, a little too purposely, and some products fell on the ground due to the impact.

“Hey!” Mary shouted, carrying an additional black suitcase full of makeup. She lightly slapped Sirius in the back of his head, rushing to pick up her expensive products. “First of all, you should never smoke in a public building, it’s gross !” She started reorganizing the makeup station, scoffing loudly. “And second, if you break any of my products with your childish outbursts you’re going to pay. Literally and figuratively.” 

“Well, I’ll leave you to her.” James was grateful to take advantage of Mary’s sudden arrival, slapping his hand on his knees and standing up all too eagerly, his back cracking. “Don’t be too mean to him, he’s in a mood. See you later, Sirius!” 

Marlene, who was setting up her hair products, rolled her eyes. Mary gave Sirius a sympathetic look, but she still looked as if she was fuming. Sirius slouched back in his chair, letting out an annoyed little moan as he glared at James, who picked up his camera and ran off.

☆☆☆

Remus was no stranger to the fashion industry. He grew up surrounded by needles and threads, fabrics and sewing machines, hems and french seams. His craft was, by all means, his home and his whole life. Remus spent most of his childhood accompanying his father behind the scenes of major fashion shows, sneaking backstage when no one was looking. At the time he was small and curious, and he used to listen to his father’s teaching like his life depended on it. That was a long time ago, though.

So, it wasn’t the first time that Remus wandered around the chaos backstage before an important runway show. But it was the first time he did so in ten years, and for the first time he was there on his own, without having to rely on his father. Things were inevitably different than they used to be back then, and as soon as Remus set foot in the designated venue for the BLACK runway he began to feel just how much the passage of time affected him. Many things happened in the span of ten years, most of which Remus didn’t want to think about. His life turned sour way too early, and he was determined to pick up the pieces and start anew without being dragged backwards by his own regrets.

Remus didn’t receive specific instructions in the email he got, just a list of supplies he needed. He basically packed his whole workshop in a suitcase just in case, and he arrived at the venue an hour earlier than he was supposed to just in case . Once there, he didn’t really know what to do. Everyone was busy and clearly stressed, and no one paid attention to him if not to glare at the scars on his face. The atmosphere backstage was a thousand times more chaotic than he remembered, probably because Remus was finally involved firsthand in it all. The annoying buzz of people hissing and groaning and outright yelling was much louder and more stressful than it used to be when Remus was a kid, but it was somewhat exciting. 

Remus leaned patiently onto his cane, releasing some pressure from his aching hip, when he was finally approached by a tall employee wearing a clearly expensive suit. The man introduced himself as Rodolphus Lestrange, the same man who hired Remus on the phone just a few days before. 

“Good morning, sir.” Remus extended his hand politely, but Rodolphus ignored it. “I’m Remus Lupin. The seamster you hired on the phone… a couple of days ago.”

Rodolphus looked at Remus up and down, his lip curled in a disappointed grimace. Unfortunately, Remus was used to being misjudged at first glance by people. His baggy, rundown clothes, his cane and the scars slashing his face usually scared some people away. 

“You’re here early.” Rodolphus clicked his tongue and for a second Remus recognized a hint of doubt in his eyes. But alas, there was really nothing either of them could do, the runway show was in a few hours and there was no time for any sudden changes or firing on the spot. “Well, that’s alright. Better even. You can start early if you want, and I can add an additional hour to your payment plan. We’ve assigned you a really difficult model, so having an early start won’t hurt.”

Remus was given a special pass to carry around his neck, and he was assigned a dossier containing measurements and reference photos of the model he was supposed to fit for the day. Remus had to reread the name on the dossier multiple times before he finally managed to believe what was happening. Sirius Black. Remus closed his eyes, breathed in and shook his head, then he opened his eyes again and reread the name. Sirius Black. Remus checked the reference photos, just to make sure, and it was indeed the Sirius Black. Well, that was one hell of a surprise.

Of course, Remus was expecting the global supermodel and face of the house of BLACK to be present at their most important runway show of the year. Hell, Remus even hoped he could get to see him in person, maybe from afar, but he could have never expected to be assigned to him as his personal seamster for the day. Especially on his first day.

It was a miracle of some sorts, a major stroke of luck for once in his damned life. And Remus wasn’t going to waste it, that’s for sure. He clenched the dossier in his hands, holding on for dear life, and he took a deep breath. He gathered all his strength, determined to make the best of that blessed occasion, determined to do the best job any seamster or seamstress ever did during a runway show. He walked over the makeup stations and he spotted his assigned supermodel almost immediately. Sirius Black could be recognized amongst thousands, his dark, flawless beauty was infamous all over the world, and Remus’ heart skipped a beat at the mere sight of him. Sirius glowed like a star, he was blinding and he looked so warm, so lovely. Remus felt his insides twist excitedly as he approached the makeup station, fueled by pure hope, his aching muscles relaxing.

“God, Marlene, you’re so annoying!” Sirius screeched, his voice so pungently sharp and, frankly, nasty. “Could you just shut up and leave me alone for a second?! I’m stressed enough on my own, I don’t need you scolding me the whole time!” His face was all scrunched up in a terrible grimace, the edges of his face were all tense. “What are you, my mother?”

The girl that Remus identified as Marlene was styling Sirius’ hair. She looked tired, her bleached blond hair pulled up in a messy bun. Marlene didn’t take the model’s obnoxious words lightly and she pulled Sirius’ hair violently with her brush.

“Ouch!” Sirius groaned, massaging his head. “What was that for?!”

“To shut you up, cunt.” Marlene hissed as she picked up her curling iron. “And the next time you compare me to your mother I will burn your scalp to a crisp, do you hear me?”

“Marlene…” 

“No, Dorcas, I won’t calm down.” Marlene rolled her eyes at the beautiful lady with braids who was standing next to her. She artlessly grabbed a strand of Sirius’ hair and wrapped it around the hot iron. “First you starve yourself to the brink of passing out, then you won’t even follow the hair routine I painstakingly curated specifically for you.” Marlene sounded beyond pissed, curling Sirius’ hair with a murderous look in her eyes. “Your curls are fragile, Sirius, you need to take care of them! Or else we will have to restyle them each time, and you don’t want me to handle a burning curling iron near your face, do you?”

“Just do your job, will you?” Sirius spat, slouching in his chair. “I can’t stand you people.”

Marlene retaliated by pulling Sirius’ hair once again, this time so harshly that Remus suspected she actually ripped some strands off of his scalp. Sirius suppressed a cry, flinching harshly.

“Marlene, stop! I can’t do his eyeliner if he keeps moving.” another girl, one with thick curly hair and a gorgeous full face of makeup, protested. She waited for Sirius to stay still again, then she resumed her job, gently cupping Sirius’ face and drawing a perfectly straight line that extended the slender shape of his eye. 

“Sorry, Mary.” Marlene sighed, focusing on her job. “It’s not my fault this guy is a massive mess who never listens to the few people who actually care about him.”

“Bitch.” Sirius muttered under his breath, and Remus noticed the way Marlene clenched her jaw trying to ignore him for everyone’s sake.

“Sirius, you’re crossing the line here.” Mary said, carefully finishing Sirius’ other eye. “Marlene is right. We just want to be helpful and you keep pushing us aside like we’re trash. We know you and we care a lot, that’s why we keep trying, but do not take us for granted.” She bopped Sirius’ nose with the bottom of the eyeliner pen, a playful gesture that read like a threat. “If you call any of us a bitch again, we’ll leave you to whatever wacky beauty team your mother wants to force on you.”

That seemed to shut Sirius up, finally. His lips sealed in a thin line and his shoulder slumped dramatically. Remus noticed just how miserable Sirius looked, in the worst way possible. He was still egregiously beautiful, of course, but the moment he saw Sirius upclose Remus immediately recognized the cracks slowly appearing on the surface. 

“And you are?” Dorcas approached Remus, who had been hovering just behind them the whole time. She was playing with one of her braids, staring at him with a curious look in her eyes.

Remus hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on Sirius a little too long. “Oh, I’m the seamster assigned to Mr. Black. Name’s Remus.” he mumbled timidly, involuntarily lowering his head. Dorcas wasn’t studying him judgingly, but her intense gaze was still intimidating.

“Dorcas. I’m Sirius’ image consultant.” She shook Remus’ hand, then she tilted her head a little. “You’re here early.” 

“Sorry, I can just-” Remus almost stumbled over his cane, suddenly too aware of the underlying scraping pain in his hip. “I can just sit somewhere until he’s ready-”

“It’s fine.” Sirius stared at Remus through the mirror. His eyes were the most perfect shade of silver, precious and unique. Remus could get lost in the depths of that unreadable, curious gaze. If the eyes are a window to one’s soul, Sirius’ soul was an abyss of glimmering angst that attracted Remus like a magnet. “Just give me a minute and I’ll be with you.” Sirius’ voice sounded much different than it had just a minute before. He spoke more gently, calmly, and his tone was warmer and more welcoming.

It took a moment for Remus to break eye contact. He stood frozen in place, as if any sudden movement could cause Sirius to transform into a monster and eat him alive. The moment dragged on forever. Sirius was such a captivating creature, a siren luring the poor sailor down to the bottom of the darkest ocean with the power of just his gaze. 

Remus clenched his teeth, trying to fight back his physical urges . Sirius was hauntingly gorgeous, but surely he didn't impress Remus with his insufferable behavior. For as beautiful as he looked, Sirius could be a real snake to the people around him, apparently. His cruel words towards his employees, his screeching voice, the flame in his eyes, everything was printed on the forefront of Remus’ head like an alarm bell. He shut his eyes, trying to erase any unnecessary thoughts, focusing solely on his job.

“Can I take a look at the outfits in the meantime?” Remus asked Dorcas, who seemed to be the one in charge of the whole team. “To familiarize with the fabrics and designs.”

“Of course, they’re right over here.” Dorcas guided Remus behind a black curtain hanging right to the side of the makeup table. “Tell me if you need anything, Remus .” She pronounced his name with so much intention and emphasis. Remus couldn't really tell if she was simply teasing him or straight up mocking him. “Sirius is almost done with hair and makeup, it will take just a few minutes.”

Remus nodded politely, shaking the uncomfortable feeling off of his shoulders. He disappeared behind the curtain and he focused on the two incredibly elaborate dresses hanging on the wall. Remus reached out hesitantly, his hand barely brushing the delicate nude tulle of the first outfit. He had never seen clothes as refined and breathtaking as those. The fabric was of the highest quality, soft and delicate, beautifully manipulated into harmonious shapes. Both outfits were heavily decorated with lace, ruffles, crystals, each detail meticulously curated and handcrafted. Remus’ stomach clenched; he almost felt bad about laying his calloused hands on such delicate pieces of art. He was provided with a bundle of extra fabric, lace and spare crystals that matched the outfit, should the need of intense alterations arise.

Just when Remus started setting up his supplies, Sirius slid behind the curtain and he began undressing nonchalantly, barely acknowledging the other man’s presence. Remus stiffened like a tree trunk, his throat screeching an embarrassingly pitiful sound. Flustered, Remus scrambled to get his cane, squeezing his eyes shut. His measuring tape slipped off his neck and that caught Sirius’ attention.

“Stay.” Sirius shrugged, taking off his sweatshirt. “I don’t mind.” 

Remus stayed, but he, on the other hand, minded . He tried not to stare, focusing solely on preparing his supplies, but it was hard. Remus brought many shades of dark thread and he spent many minutes trying to color match the perfect tone to each section of the dress. The task kept his mind mostly occupied, but his gaze still wandered elsewhere at times, and he couldn’t do anything to prevent it. Remus’ eyes darted towards Sirius before he even registered what was happening, and he gasped when he caught the supermodel right when he was taking off his undershirt.

“Don’t freak out.” Sirius muttered diffidently. Remus braced himself when he noticed a huge, dark spot of bruises which extended all over one side of Sirius’ protruding ribcage. It looked as painful as it looked ugly. Remus must have grimaced at such an outrageous sight, because Sirius lowered his gaze immediately. “It’s nothing, really. Everyone keeps pestering me about it. Don’t mention it, don’t look at it, focus on your job, alright?” 

Remus swallowed and he nodded. He tried to ignore the situation as he was told, especially since it wasn’t something that should have concerned him. Sirius looked so different without the layers he hid behind. There were bruises, but it didn’t stop there. Sirius had scars on his arms, so deep and long that they were impossible to ignore once noticed. Remus shook his head, mentally whipping himself for intruding the intimacy of someone else’s body with his curious gaze. But still, it didn’t feel right. Injuries like that don’t just happen, and the pattern of the bruises was definitely suspicious. Remus had no reason to care, other than the fact that a fellow human being was hurt, and he couldn’t help but worry. Not only that, but it felt especially wrong that someone like Sirius was the one in pain. For some reason it didn’t occur to Remus before that a person as beautiful and famous as Sirius could be vulnerable enough to be bruised and aching. To a normal person like Remus, pain and suffering only existed among the mortals . Sirius definitely looked like someone who should have been above such things. It bothered Remus deeply, and suddenly his first impression of Sirius was forgotten. Remus, ever the gentle soul, could only succumb to his own animalistic need to protect.

“So, where do we begin?” Sirius tilted his head, his freshly defined curls bouncing above his naked shoulders. Remus’ eyes lingered maybe a little too long at Sirius’ hollow jugular notch before gathering the mental stability to reply without stuttering.

“I need to take a couple of measurements.” Remus picked his measuring tape and a small notebook. “Just to get accustomed to your proportions. Please step in front of the mirror.”

Sirius obeyed and he positioned himself where Remus wanted. He avoided the sight of his own battered body in the mirror, instead focusing on Remus’ reflection, curiously following all his movements. The seamster began measuring the back of Sirius’ shoulders, gently brushing the tape against his bare skin. Remus muttered a number under his breath, but Sirius didn’t care enough to pick up what it was. Remus nodded and took notes, then he gently measured Sirius’ back, laying the tape all along his spine. Sirius instinctively arched his back, and Remus followed the hollow curve as if he didn’t notice. The careful touch gave Sirius goosebumps and he held his breath as Remus kept studying every inch of him and taking notes.

“Please lift your arms a little.” Remus asked, and Sirius obliged. The seamster slid the tape under the model’s armpits, and he carefully positioned it around his chest, doing his best to avoid the bruises. Sirius tried to keep his reactions under control, swallowing a whine when the tape brushed against his naked nipples. Remus was gentle and respectful, but Sirius was over sensitive when it came to handsome boys with scarred faces touching him all over. “Relax your arms, don’t flex your chest.” Remus scolded, and Sirius obliged .

It took Remus a few minutes to note all of Sirius’ measurements. A few intense minutes. Sirius exhaled deeply when Remus slid the tape of his hips, feeling the absence of his touch immediately and suffocatingly. It was embarrassing, how Sirius bent to touch like he was made of rubber, but he took every bit of gentleness he could, unashamedly.

“Alright-” Sirius’ voice came out raw, sharp, dry. He cleared his throat, turning away from the mirror, too ashamed to look at himself blushing like a teenager. “Which outfit is the first?” He asked, trying to sound in control.

“This one on the left is labeled as the opening act .” Remus pointed at one of the outfits. “You can try that one on and we’ll see if any adjustments are needed.”

Sirius hesitantly studied the outfit, his face never betraying a hint of appreciation or amusement. Instead he arched his eyebrow and he looked at Remus with such a mischievous look in his eyes. “Well? Are you going to help me or should I call Dorcas?”

Remus breathed out rather softly. He didn’t expect Sirius Black of all people to be such a tease, but he certainly had no intentions of disappointing him. “Here, allow me.” he said, holding the first outfit up as Sirius slipped inside.

It was definitely a miracle of some sorts. Sirius was thin and his skin was cold to the touch. Remus was careful in choosing where to put his hands, treating the whole process as a sacred ritual. Remus didn’t even know what was the biggest honor, being allowed to touch a handcrafted BLACK design that was worth more of all his organs together, or being allowed to touch Sirius Black himself. Either way, Remus didn’t feel worthy of the privilege, but he still enjoyed every second of it. When he zipped up the dress, he did so ever so slowly; his hand lingered on each inch of Sirius’ back, his knuckles brushing against every single one of the supermodel’s vertebrae. 

“Shit.” Sirius hissed, shuddering. “Shit, shit, shit.” He kept mumbling in a state of absolute, increasing panic as he frantically moved in front of the mirror to stare at himself in horror.

Remus was taken aback by such an adverse reaction, and he gave a proper look to the whole ensemble. The outfit was incredible and it looked even more impeccable on Sirius. It was a full body, form fitting black jumpsuit, with palazzo pant legs covered in crystals, providing a gradient effect as the hem was completely silver with appliques. The bodice area gave the illusion of being strapless, but Sirius was actually fully covered with nude tulle on which were layered panels of thick, black satin, lined with lace and tiny crystals. The sleeves were mostly made of intricate chantilly lace, getting more intense around the forearm area. The bodice consisted of one panel on the front, which covered Sirius’ bust, and two panels in the back, separated in the middle by an invisible zipper. The sides of Sirius’ body were thus left fully visible through the nude tulle, leaving the horribly bruised area on his ribcage fully visible. 

“Shit.” Sirius whined again, his hands pushing down his injured side as if he wanted to rip himself to pieces. “My mother had to get the wonderful idea to make a jumpsuit with huge holes on the sides right on this day, uh.”

“It’s ok, we can fix this.” Remus hummed, trying to sound comforting. He reached for Sirius’ shoulder and squeezed gently, hoping it would help him calm down a little. It worked, sort of, as Sirius stopped shuddering almost immediately, his gaze fixed on Remus’. “Let me think…”

“I can ask Mary to cover it up with foundation or something…” Sirius groaned at the mere idea. The bruises hurt like hell even when he barely touched them, he refused to even think about how much it would hurt to be dabbed repeatedly with a beauty blender. Not to mention the fact that it would most likely stain the inside of the dress, no matter how much powder and fixing spray Mary could use, and that would piss off Walburga terribly . “It’s not the best solution, but-”

“Wait, I’ve got an idea.” Remus frowned and he reached for the spare lace that he was provided with in case of necessity. Of course, the extra fabric was there to fix any possible rips, not to modify the whole structure of the dress, but Remus was willing to go against his contractual obligations to help Sirius. 

Remus fumbled through his supplies, finding a cute tomato pincushion full of thin pins, which he strapped securely to his wrist. He then grabbed a handful of lace scraps that matched the panels on the front and back, and he began pinning them down directly while Sirius was still wearing the jumpsuit. Sirius flinched at the sight of the first pin, but Remus worked faster and he masterfully pierced through the layer of nude tulle without even grazing the skin underneath. Remus was skilled and fast, and he had a vision. He secured a pair of fabric scissors to his belt with a looped ribbon, and he began cutting up the lace along the structured lines, leaving no frying ends.

“How much time do we have before the show?” Remus struggled to speak properly, mumbling his words. He had a handful of pins between his lips, which looked quite dangerous to Sirius.

“About two hours, I think.”

“I can work with that.” Remus nodded and kept pinning lace scraps down. “Don’t move.” He ordered, his tone warm and gentle, and Sirius couldn’t do anything but obey. Remus managed to entirely cover the entire side of the dress seamlessly, the lace scraps blending onto the front and back panels as if the design was always supposed to be that way. Aside from the pins sticking out, it was impossible to tell that any alterations were made. “Do you like it?” Remus asked, looking at Sirius with such gentle, understanding chestnut eyes.

Sirius was impressed, the result was amazing already, though he was a little scared to move; he didn’t want to poke himself with the pins. “It looks fantastic.”

“Perfect.” Remus’ voice sounded delighted, and that managed to lift Sirius’ morale a little. “Now, give me a second to baste it together.” Remus picked up a needle and a thick, bright yellow threat. He began roughly sewing the pieces together and the vivid threat made the inconsistent seam pop. “The yellow thread is temporary.” Remus explained. “I need to copy this same panel on the other side, and I need a clear reference of where and how to work. Give me a couple of minutes.”

Remus carefully removed the basted piece from the jumpsuit and he sat on the floor with a pained groan. He carefully shifted his body, trying to not put too much pressure on his bad hip, and he began creating a specular copy of the panel he just made. He searched for the perfect scraps of lace, he cut precise pieces and he moved them around until everything naturally fell into its right place. Sirius stared in awe, his eyes following Remus’ skilled hands as if he was looking at some kind of magic. It was a meticulous job, and it was beautiful. Once both pieces were basted to look exactly identical, Remus threaded the needle with a perfect match of black needle and he began painstakingly hand sewing each panel to itself.

“Your hands are really pretty.” Sirius murmured timidly at some point, kneeling right next to Remus, who lifted an eyebrow at the unexpected comment. “Listen, I- I wanted to, y’know… Apologize. For how I acted earlier.” Sirius’ shoulder slumped, and he stuttered a little on the word apologize . “I’m mean sometimes.” He bit his bottom lip, looking away. “Most models are, right?”

“Sure.” Remus shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. We all have bad days. You should apologize to the girls, though, not to me.” He hissed a little when he lightly poked his finger with the needle.

“You’re right. I will apologize- later.” Sirius nodded profusely. “I’m Sirius, by the way.” He smiled softly, resting his head on his shoulder.

“I know.” Remus nodded, barely holding in an amused chuckle. “I’m Remus. Nice to meet you.” He tilted his head, smiling back at Sirius. 

They looked into each other’s eyes for longer than it would be appropriate, but neither of them had any intention of cutting the moment short. It was intimate and intense, a silent meeting of two achingly lonely souls that clung onto the other with the hunger of a starving beast. Their gaze was gentle and careful, but the more they stared into each other the more ravenous they became. Something in their eyes shifted, and Remus could pinpoint the exact moment he noticed how both of them had turned desperate for the other. They could have torn the other to shreds in desperation, but they decided to stop and yield.

“Nice to meet you, too.” Sirius breathed out, feeling entirely helpless to his own thoughts. Remus would have swallowed him whole, he wanted to absorb him and keep him all for himself, but the only thing he could do was smile. Sirius’ heart melted like ice embraced by fire. “Remus…” He mumbled under his breath.

Remus did his absolute best to ignore the knot in his chest, focusing all his attention on his job. The lace panels were finally completed, his masterful seams basically invisible to the naked eye. He prompted Sirius to stand up and raise his arms, and Remus began pinning the completed panels back onto the jumpsuit. He moved things a little, scrupulously pinning and unpinning until the two sides mirrored each other perfectly. 

“Wow. You’re amazing, Remus.” Sirius gasped in awe, looking at himself in the mirror with newfound confidence and tranquillity. He checked himself, well aware of his incomparable beauty, and he looked fully in love with himself now that he couldn’t see the ugliness of violence on his body. “It looks even better than what my mother designed. Honestly, that woman really needs to retire.” 

Remus looked quite pleased with himself as well, smiling proudly as Sirius paraded himself. The jumpsuit really did look better with the extra panels; or at least it looked better on a happier, more confident, more effortlessly gorgeous Sirius. The look on the supermodel’s face was priceless, and it made Remus’ whole day so much better. Sirius glowed a different, warmer kind of light when he was happy, and it brightened everything around him. Remus let himself simmer in Sirius’ fire for a moment, before they were interrupted.

A young man who looked like the carbon copy of Sirius, just a little younger, a little shorter and a little duller, peered through the curtain, his shorter black curls poking through. 

“Sirius, are you done? The show begins in less than an hour- Oh.” The young man, who Remus immediately identified as Sirius’ younger brother, frowned, his young features turning sour. “That's not mother's design.” He breathed out, his voice cracking a little.

“I know, Reggie. We made it better, didn't we?” Sirius showed off the result, posing like a real professional. He only gained a low, dissatisfied groan from the younger man.

“Are you out of your mind? God, you never allow me a moment of peace.” Regulus rolled his eyes, slipping through the curtain, checking if anyone was watching him before doing so. “Take those patches off. Now. Mother can't see you looking like this, she will kill you.” He scoffed, reaching out for the extra layers of lace on the jumpsuit.

Sirius instinctively flinched back, looking distressed. “No! The patches stay on, I don't care what mother says!” Sirius spoke firmly, fiercely, it only irritated his brother more.

“Sirius, I swear to God-” Regulus hissed through gritted teeth. “If you cause a scene today-”

“I'm not causing a scene just to cause a scene. I don't want to wear the original design. Period.” Sirius pouted in a way that would almost look cute, if it wasn't for the distress in his eyes. “I don't feel comfortable going out half naked.”

“Oh shut up! As if you’ve never worn anything similar!” Regulus sighed, clearly exasperated. Remus saw the hint of anger in the younger brother’s eyes slowly disappearing, replaced by witty concern. “What is going on with you today? Did something happen?”

Remus moved forward, opening his mouth to explain, but Sirius shot him a deadly, supplicant glare. “Nothing happened. I just don’t want to.” Sirius urged, speaking before Remus could even let out a sigh. “Mother won’t even notice, she will be too bewitched by my heavenly face.” Sirius tried to crack a joke, but the way his voice trembled at the end betrayed a suffocating sense of resigned dread.

Regulus lifted his chin, his face contorting in a tense grimace. He wasn’t convinced, of course. Regulus and Sirius didn’t just look similar, they were similar in and out. Remus felt like he was stuck in a weird loop, trapped in between the two brothers who stared at each other with the same grey, scrutinizing eyes. Regulus knew Sirius like the back of his hand, and he instinctively imitated the way his big brother’s features melted miserably.

“What’s wrong?” Regulus asked hesitantly, as if speaking of his brother’s distress was a crime. He sounded a little smaller, raspier, a little too controlled as if he was carefully rationing his words. “Don’t cut me off, if something is bothering you I need to know.” Regulus murmured, his voice as low as a whisper.

Remus glanced at Sirius, trying to grasp the depth of the two brother’s relationship. Sirius’ stomach twisted and he clenched his jaw tightly. He couldn’t bear the pity and worry in his brother’s eyes, especially when Sirius himself was responsible for it. The veins on his neck were pulsating at an uncomfortable rhythm, and Remus had to resist the urge to reach out. Sirius didn’t want his brother to know about the bruises, he didn’t want Regulus to know that Sirius was still such a mess. He felt like suffocating, blood rushing to his brain. His brother’s sorrowful and questioning gaze brought Sirius back to a dark, horrible time, one that he desperately tried to bury behind and forget. Sirius didn’t want to show his pain to Regulus and he especially didn’t want to have complicated conversations with him. He just wanted Regulus to see the best in the world, and have no fear. 

“Reggie, I just want to cover up.” Sirius sucked up a deep breath. His body was unfeeling, it didn’t hurt but it didn’t feel good either. He couldn’t allow himself a single moment of weakness with his brother, in pain of hurting him. “Can we leave it at that? If mother gets mad, I’ll take it. I asked Remus to patch me up, I take full responsibility.”

Regulus gave Remus a terrifyingly untrusting look, lifting an eyebrow. “You should have known better than indulging in Sirius’ whims.” He spat, unforgiving. At that moment Remus would have thought Regulus was the eldest, jumping to protect his brother with the fierceness of a lion. “You just don’t go around and change designs one hour before a fashion show. The outfit lost its balance now. Look, it’s too… full. There’s too much load in the upper area.”

“I understand.” Remus lowered his gaze, apologetically. He didn’t regret having extrapolated a tranquil smile from Sirius, but he realized just how jeopardizing his reckless actions were. “I only wanted Mr. Black to feel comfortable.”

“I feel gorgeous.” Sirius tossed his hair, his curls holding their shape wonderfully, framing the perfect angles of his face. He still had a miserable look in his eyes, but he hid it well behind a mischievous smirk.

“Remember that you are gorgeous, you’re a literal model. That’s not the issue here.” Regulus clicked his tongue, massaging the bridge of his nose. “The rest of the runway pieces follow a specific tone and this one just looks… off, now. We need to rebalance things out. Can you remove the sleeves?” He asked coldly, glaring at Remus.

Remus pinched the seam around the arm hole, carefully feeling the fabric. “The tulle is delicate, but there’s no overlock finishing. If I lift the lace carefully I can remove the sleeves too without snagging the fabric.”

“Can you do this in forty minutes?” Regulus tapped his cheekbone rhythmically, in a poor attempt at dissipating his anxieties. 

“I can do it in twenty.” Remus set his shoulders back proudly, already reaching for his seam ripper. 

“What about…” Sirius tensed, choking on his own words. His head twitched a little as he pointed timidly at his forearm. What about the scars?, the word was one of those that scared Sirius a little too much.

Regulus avoided looking directly at Sirius’ forearms. His eyes darted across the cramped changing area frantically until he identified the suitcase containing most of Sirius’ spare stage props and accessories. “Gloves.” Regulus mumbled, rummaging through the infinite stack of accessories.

Remus didn’t waste any time waiting around and he proceeded to do his job. Sirius let him maneuver his arms around, allowing the seamster to get a better angle of action. Remus’ touch was light and respectful, both to the body beneath his fingers and to the fabric he was handling. Sirius heard the popping sound of thread being ripped apart, the first sleeve slowly sliding down his arm inch by inch until it was completely gone. Remus treated fabric so kindly, his fingers rubbing the little holes left by the seam until the fiber was whole and soft again. Sirius’ lips slightly parted as he stared up at Remus. Their height difference was comforting in a way and Sirius leaned into the careful touch wondering what it would feel like to be a bundle of tulle at that moment, just to be allowed to be handled gently by Remus.

“Tell me if I’m poking you, ok?” Remus whispered mere inches from Sirius’ ear, leaning down to work on the second sleeve. 

Sirius had to swallow down his excitement and he nodded energetically. Remus’ breathing was slow and controlled, matching the rhythm of seams popping, and it brushed against Sirius’ shoulder and neck. It was warm, so warm it felt unhuman. 

“Here, try these ones on.” Regulus finally emerged from the bundle of accessories, handing a pair of leather mid length gloves to Sirius. 

Sirius remembered those gloves, and he knew that they were not Walburga’s favorite. In fact, she actually hated them. They were part of a small, experimental collection that Regulus tried to produce on his own when he turned nineteen. It didn’t go through their parents' approval, but he still managed to produce a small number of prototypes that were still being passed around the backstage of BLACK shows. Walburga found Regulus’ designs to be hideously rebellious , in her own words, a filthy cluster of leather rubbish with no harmony, nor style, nor elegance, nor reason to exist other than torment the eyes of people with good taste. In other words, Regulus made the kind of clothes that Sirius loved.

The gloves didn’t match Walburga’s dismembered design, and as much as Sirius liked them he couldn’t help lifting an eyebrow in confusion. Regulus rolled his eyes. “I can make it work, Sirius. Please, trust me.”

It didn’t take much convincing; Sirius was the biggest fan of his baby brother’s design, and he trusted him with his life. When Remus finished working on detaching the second sleeve, Sirius stared at himself in the mirror hesitantly. The design of the jumpsuit turned much sharper after the alterations, his naked arms creating a long line engulfing the rich design within. When Sirius slid the gloves on, Regulus’ vision became clearer. The gloves had no thumb, enhancing the boxy shape of Sirius’ hand and creating the illusion of an elongated, sharper arm. The crudeness of the leather contrasted the delicacy of the lace, creating an interesting focal point around Sirius’ waist and hips, where the chantilly designs on the bodice met the satin of the pants. 

“And let’s put this on as well.” Regulus hummed, tying a leather choker around Sirius’ neck. It was another relic from his old, failed collection, a simple strap of leather with an industrial buckled in the back and a star charm embedded in the front.

“Wow, that’s-” Remus paused, his eyes widening in awe at the sight. He tried to gather his thoughts and find the right words to describe what he was seeing.

“Incredible.” Sirius anticipated him, letting out a wonderfully breathy chuckle. He touched the star charm hanging on his neck, his nacked thumb pressing on each pointy edge. “Reggie, this is incredible .” Sirius’ excitement was contagious, and so was his beautiful smile.

Regulus’ lips curled slightly upwards, his nose scrunching up a little as he sucked up any more excessive outburst of emotions. Remus wondered when it was the last time anyone ever praised the younger Black brother for anything, seeing just how brightly his eyes glimmered at the slightest comment of approval. Sirius, on the other hand, did little to nothing to hide his emotions, acute, silly sounds escaping his throat as he checked himself in the mirror up and down. Remus, too, was beyond satisfied with the result. Regulus had, indeed, a uniquely perceptive eye for fashion, and Remus felt like he himself translated the vision well on the jumpsuit with his skills.

“And-” Remus smiled from ear to ear, his scars curling around the rounded up lines of his face. He checked his phone. “We did it in less than twenty minutes, actually. You’re all set in record time, Sirius.”

“Thank us.” Regulus scoffed, gently pushing his elder brother. “Thank us ‘till you die.” 

Sirius was about to speak, his limbs already melting in a dramatic stance, but he was interrupted when another person slid through the curtain. Remus immediately noticed a very expensive camera hanging from the young man’ thick neck, and the pair of golden glasses with decorative chains framing his face.

“You’re taking your sweet time, Siri. Everyone is looking for you.” James put his hands on his hips, hunching forward a little. The chains of his glasses hit his clavices as he nodded in approval. “Woo hoo, that’s different. Is your mother going through a middle aged rebellious phase?”

“Strangely, I wish she was, James.” Sirius barked, shaking his head. “It was Reggie. My baby brother put his ingenuous and penetrating mind to the test, and he created a masterpiece. Everyone, say bravo to my baby brother.” He spoke musically and condescendingly, emphasizing with great pride his praises to Regulus.

“Bravo, Regulus.” James nodded distantly, his eyes focusing on each detail of Sirius’ outfit with cunning interest. He took his camera and he worked out the settings quickly, his fingers effortlessly switching between buttons and wheels. “Allow me a couple of shots? The subtle lighting in here makes you so… wild. So woof woof. Arf arf . Do you understand?” James smiled and Sirius busted out laughing.

Remus did not, in fact, understand, but apparently Sirius did. Remus assumed it was some sort of weird coded language, a secret known only amongst crazily creative photographers and even crazier supermodels, but apparently James and Sirius worked fantastically together without even trying. Sirius struck a pose, then another, and another, and James kept shooting intensely from every angle. For a couple of minutes, the two were lost in a parallel world, creating effortless art. Remus was completely bewitched by Sirius’ sharp, clean movements. He was art personified, and Remus was so grateful for having been granted the miracle of existing in the same small changing area as him even for just a couple of hours.

☆☆☆

James should have headed back to his front row seat at the end of the catwalk, but he lingered backstage a little longer, at the risk of losing his perfect spot for pictures. He didn’t mind, for he had already completed the best part of his job. James kept staring at the raw previews of the shots he managed to steal from Sirius behind the curtain, and his mouth was basically watering at the sight of such a perfect composition. In his not too modest opinion, they were beautiful . The lighting was natural, hitting Sirius’ face from new angles that he never once had the chance to explore before through his camera. 

James was a professional studio photographer, his editorial shots made him famous and pretty requested all over the world. He was meticulous in the way he curated the sets, the lights, the models for his photoshoots; everything was strictly controlled and manipulated to fit his vision and the vision of his clients. It was safe working like that, it left him no room for error and the guarantee of a sellable product that rarely ever disappointed him.

But at the end of the day, James had an eye that searched for the beauty of art in everything. He craved, instinctively, the freedom of exploring the uncontrollable creativity of the universe with no restraints, no expectations. He rarely translated his fascination with real life art into actual pictures. James’ camera lens never fully managed to extrapolate the visceral beauty of the raw moment and imprint it on a still fragment of time.

Those stolen pictures, though, were special. Nothing about them was calculated or pre-prepared, they were raw and impulsive, and they were beautiful. Sirius looked so different compared to his usual studio photos. He was radiant, glowing a warm, engulfing light that rarely ever shone in his eyes, especially in professional settings. His poses were a little sloppier, but the happiness in his face and the sharp lines of the outfit compensated well and the final results were more memorable than any editorials James ever shot before. He couldn't help but grin, his thumbs zooming in to spot the most secret details of each shot. 

“Can you stop staring at my brother’s pictures like that?” Regulus scoffed, looking over James’ shoulder with a hilariously disappointed look on his face. His frowning face was all red, and there were wrinkles around his eyes and the corner of his tensed up lips, making him look much older and impossibly adorable at the same time.

“Like what?” James chuckled, looking over at the youngest Black with unconcealed interest. 

Regulus rolled his eyes, yanking at one of the chains hanging from James’ glasses violently. “Like you want to fuck him” He hissed, shaking his head. “It’s gross.”

James let out a heartwarming laugh, pinching the bridge of his nose to contain himself. In doing so, he slightly raised his glasses above his eyebrows, giving Regulus a chance to look at those hazel eyes more clearly without the barrier of the lenses. “I don’t want to fuck your brother, goodness! He’s my best friend.” James’ chuckle was like a breath of hot summer breeze. “But, honestly, I’d fuck that outfit raw. You created a masterpiece, and now you blame me for not being able to stop staring at it.”

“Yeah, you want me to believe you’re looking at the outfit.” Regulus clicked his tongue, clenching his jaw. “Pervert.” He looked away, his silver irises catching sparks of lights and glimmering.

To James, Regulus was just as beautiful as his big brother, if not more considering how effortlessly he carried himself, knowing that he had nothing to prove. James could stare at him for hours, and still find out new interesting things about him that no one ever probably ever noticed. Sirius was exposed to everyone’s mercy constantly, his beauty exploited to the point of turning stale at times, boring even, including to the people close to him. Regulus, on the other hand, was a private little mystery, an undiscovered celestial body who’s light still had to reach Earth. James’ smile softened a little, lingering a little too long on those silvery irises, trying to grasp yet another layer of him.

“Well, maybe I’m not looking at the outfit from a fashionista point of view, but I’m getting lost in the artistry of it.” James shrugged, showing Regulus his favorite stolen shot. Sirius was staring slightly off camera, his lips curled in a thin, soft smile that he never showed the media. He had his hands on his hips, his chest leaning towards the camera. The star charm on his neck reflected the dim lights, flaring unfocused blurs at the lens. “I’ve never seen Sirius looking quite like this. You’ve managed to bring out the light in him with just a couple of conscious alterations. You, Regulus Black, are an artist.”

“Oh shut up.” Regulus tilted his head, looking at the photo. James was right, Sirius was glowing, he was clearly comfortable with himself, in a way that Regulus hadn’t known for at least five years. Knowing that he managed to bring a little joy in his big brother’s life was incredible. “Sirius is just too good. I’ve done nothing more than put some leather here and there.”

“I think you’ve done much more than that.” James smiled softly, influenced by Regulus’ presence. “Sirius is a great canvas, but you are the artist here. You understand the people around you. You’re a listener, and you’re emotionally intelligent like no other. And, you’ve got a taste for clothes.” James hummed the last bit enthusiastically, still mesmerized by the outfit he managed to capture on camera before everyone else could. “The lines you created, the focal points you naturally enhanced, you’ve made something beautiful.”

Something switched in Regulus’ gaze. He flattered his eyelashes and his face softened, his features melting in a gentle shadow of a smile. He let out a strained sigh, a residue of a suffocate little laugh that he managed to regurgitate. James’ eyes focused on the way Regulus lowered his head a little, hiding behind the dark curls that fell on his forehead. Still, James couldn’t help but notice that Regulus was blushing.

“I can see why Sirius is so fond of you.” Regulus murmured, his voice low and vibrating, rearranging a good portion of James’ insides. “You’re both such sentimental idiots.” He hissed as James clenched his fingers against his camera, grinning.

Chapter Text

Technically, Sirius knew how runway shows went for him. He knew when to turn his brain off and just let his body do the thing. He knew how to rely solely on his muscle memory and he knew how to give his own thoughts a break for his own sake. He knew better than to think too much before a performance, and he knew that his feelings had no place on the catwalk. 

Sirius had this funny little ritual he did to preserve his sanity backstage. Breathe in, breathe out, erase yourself, swallow, breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out, cease existing, breathe in, breathe out, swallow. Swallow .

Swallow . Swallow it all. Anxieties, swallow. Fear, swallow. Pain, swallow. Sorrow, swallow, swallow, swallow . Pills, swallow. Swallow .

Sirius breathed in, breathed out, and he swallowed. He could feel the usual lump in his throat still lightly pressing against his lungs. It burned a little, but this time around things were different. He stared at himself in the mirror and for the first time in years he recognized himself in a runway look. Breathe in, breathe out , and Sirius was still there. He was there, Sirius himself. Not just the soulless, empty shell of a man. Sirius was there, in all his layers, in all his happy thoughts and devouring fears. Breathe in, breathe out . It was terrifying. The polished metal of the star charm hanging from the leather choker reflected back Sirius’ reflection in the mirror, creating an infinite loop of smaller and smaller copies of Sirius staring back at him. But no matter how deep he looked into his own eyes, he still recognized himself. Breathe in, breathe out. Regulus managed to resurrect whatever dormant side of Sirius soul was being kept hidden for the sake of his supermodel career, and now it was awake and it was fiercely reclaiming control. Breathe in, breathe out. Swallow. Sirius needed to disappear, he needed to cease being himself and just be the supermodel he had to be, but he just couldn’t. For the first time in years he couldn’t, wouldn’t let himself disappear inside his couture clothes again. 

For the first time in years, Sirius didn’t escape his own gaze through the mirror. He liked what he was seeing; the happy sparkle in his eyes, the way his skin glowed, the way the outfit hugged him without making him feel exposed. For a moment, Sirius thought he looked just like his baby brother, in the best way possible. Brilliant, cunning, he felt like pure art. Regulus was the best part of his soul, and he was keeping him warm and safe from the inside. Sirius didn’t want to suppress himself, he didn’t want to step aside and let himself be possessed by the wants of his parents. He didn’t want to lose sight of that happy face in the mirror.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Swallow .

Sirius swallowed a tiny bluish pill dry, his Adam's apple bobbing uncomfortably as he pushed it down his throat. James had warned him to not take any drugs after having been administered a painkiller, and Sirius decided to half ignore his words. Sirius alway told himself that Xanax wasn’t an actual drug, after all. If his parents would allow him to be properly checked by a psychiatrist, Sirius most likely could have even gotten it prescribed legally, considering just how messed up his mind was. But Orion and Walburga wouldn’t face his mental health struggles for what they were, and Sirius was forced to obtain his bluish pills through dodgy means; but still, it wasn’t as an actual drug, he reminded himself. It was a medicine for the head, and Sirius knew that he desperately needed one. Sirius was no stranger to far worse substances, but he didn’t want to dissipate his mind the way cocaine usually did. He wanted to be alright, for what it was worth.

“Don’t tell anyone.” Sirius sideyed Remus, who kept stealing glances at him while checking the outfit again and again for any last minute repairs. Remus had indeed noticed Sirius taking an unlabeled pill from a small, unsuspecting metal box, because he couldn’t ignore anything that Sirius was doing. He was too captivating, too interesting, too much. “Nobody needs to know. Not my brother, not James, definitely not my parents.”

Remus clenched his teeth, caught off guard. He was paying attention to Sirius almost maniacally, but he wasn’t expecting Sirius to be keeping an eye on him as well. Seeing how he treated his beauty team, Remus was expecting to be barely perceived at best, maybe yelled at some point at worst. But Sirius kept being nice, sort of, attentive and human throughout all their interactions. 

“What is it?” Remus dared to ask, keeping his tone as neutral as possible. He wasn’t judging, he wasn’t prying, he wasn’t tantalizing. He was just curious, just like how he was curious about everything that regarded the global supermodel he was allowed to exist next to for the brief duration of the runway show. He was a tiny bit worried, sure, but he didn’t let it slide.

Sirius looked at him, his eyes searching the depths of Remus’ mind as to dissect his thoughts. “Xanax.” He said dryly, checking Remus’ features for any changes in expression. “It’s a normal medication, nothing much really, but everyone suspects I’m a drug addict.”

“Are you”? Again, Remus asked out of pure hunger of knowledge. His hand lingered too much on Sirius’ side, his fingers mindlessly brushing the seams of the improvised lace patches he made, but indulging in the sharpness of Sirius’ body without even noticing. 

“It’s under control.” Sirius’ head snapped upwards and he breathed sharply. Remus didn’t budge nor he hesitated, firmly studying Sirius as if he was a specimen of some sorts.

Sirius could feel the hand on his side, slowly sliding down his hip. If he still had some sanity in his head he would think it was inappropriate, but there was really no part of his brain that functioned normally. It was probably the medication doing its magic, or maybe he was just too touch starved to refuse a gentle touch. Remus didn’t seem like the guy who would take advantage of the circumstances, and honestly Sirius wasn’t even sure he was doing it on purpose. His fingers weren’t invasive, or demanding, he was just there and he was careful and warm. Sirius, on the other hand, took full advantage of the sudden closeness, and he didn’t have it within himself to feel guilty about it. He bit the inside of his mouth, and he pressed his body a little against the seamster’s hand. Remus was taller than Sirius, even when he leaned forward on his aching hip, hunching his shoulders. Sirius kept his chin tilted upwards, his eyes searching Remus’ face with fierce curiosity. His gaze explored the length of each scar on the seamster’s face, from one end to the other, back and forth, until Sirius had memorized them. Then, their eyes met again, deep silvery snow melting in hot chocolate. Remus was a magnet, and Sirius was naturally attracted by his rough, yet gentle edges.

“You don’t look like you’re in control.” Remus almost whispered, his voice low and raw, and Sirius only managed to hear him because they were standing so close . His tone was genuine, direct but careful. His words penetrated deep inside Sirius, and he knew that Remus was right. 

“Don’t I? In this situation, it looks like I am.” Sirius tilted his head artfully, letting out a mischievous chuckle as he moved even closer to Remus. “I think you should mind your own business, mh?” He was stretching his neck, lips almost brushing against Remus’ ear. Sirius made a madly inhuman purring sound, delighted as he noticed the way Remus jumped in shock, scrambling to get his sewing supplies and pretend he never derailed from his job.

Sirius pushed himself back, leaving Remus to clang from one cracking hip to the other in utter flushment. It was amusing, driving people crazy. Most of the time, Sirius loved to be mean and taunt people until they exploded, he thrived in other people’s distress. But Remus, sweet, blushing, talented seamster Remus was just too precious to be broken like that. Sirius wanted to play with his innocent heart just enough to fluster him, but nothing more detrimental than that. After all, Sirius owed him that much, after Remus fixed his outfit in record time, risking jeopardizing his contract in doing so. Sirius kept stealing malicious glances at his cute seamster while checking his make up one more time, when he had just a few minutes before the start of the show.

The rest of the models in the lineup began gathering towards the catwalk wings, and they kept asking for Sirius to take his position to the front. After fixing his hair a little, reshaping the front curls around his finger, Sirius gave Remus one final wink before the show. He joined the rest of his colleagues, squeezing through the front of the queue. Two fellow models, who were sadly two fellow members of the Black family as well, approached him. Sirius kept his head up, trying to ignore them and focusing, hoping the medications would grant him enough peace of mind to not get worked up over silly family feuds.

“You like to make people wait, cousin.” hissed viciously Bellatrix, his eldest cousin, crossing her arms over her chest. She looked as wild and untamed as always, fitting right in with the aesthetic of the rest of the family. Her bulk of black, thick, perfectly defined curly hair was styled in a profusely messed half-up, which only enhanced the whimsical, yet obscure look of her outfit. “Makeup took you hours, just to look barely less mediocre than usual.” She spat, her voice hoarse and low. Her black stained lips curled in a mocking grin.

Sirius let out a strained, annoyed sigh. “Perfection takes time, Bella.” He rolled his tongue condescendingly, he couldn't even be bothered to glance back at Bellatrix.

“I thought you were born perfect, aren’t you?” Bellatrix huffed, her grin widening and twisting. She tapped her long, black stiletto nails on the bones of her lace corset. “You’re the pupil, the favorite, but you’re not even half as good as the rest of us.” 

“I was born more than perfect.” Sirius replied with a half sense of confidence. He smirked, shaking his hair a little. He did his best to look unbothered, to look superior. “It takes me time to get down to everyone’s level, my parents don’t want me to outshine you whole lot too much.” 

“You cunt-” Bellatrix snapped, her eyes burning with fiery irritation, her arched brows frowned until deep wrinkles appeared on the forehead. She jerked forward, as if she was ready to rip Sirius’ hair off of his scalp, but she was abruptly stopped when her younger sister inserted herself into the conversation.

“What are you wearing?” Narcissa asked as she lifted an eyebrow. She was the youngest Black sister on Cyngus’ side of the family, but she was still a few years older than Sirius, looking stern and mature. She looked as poised and elegant as always, her bleached money piece framing her face as if she was a portrait. She stared at Sirius’ outfit with an unconcealed air of disappointment, clicking her tongue. “That’s not aunt’s design.” She noted.

“Oh, this?” Sirius gave his cousins a little controlled spin, showing off his cool gloves and bare upper arms proudly and a little naughtily. “A little touch up by my baby brother. You know, in our side of the family talent runs wild in our veins.” 

Narcissa rolled her eyes at the snarky comment, managing to keep her emotions in control much better compared to her elder sister. “I thought uncle and aunt disapproved of Regulus' collection.” She shook her head.

“They’ll change their mind soon enough.” Sirius shrugged, his smirk still adorning his pretty, glowing face. “Once Reggie eclipses them with his designs.”

“You’re just a couple of spoiled brats-” Bellatrix growled, her dark eyes bulging to the point of almost exploding out of her skull. 

Sirius didn’t flinch, he stood firmly in his ground, finally looking back at Bellatrix, straight into her eyes. His gaze had a mischievous fire that screamed come at me, try me , and Bellatrix would have gladly indulged in her little cousin’s provocations if she wasn’t held back by the stage director who just so happened to be her brother-in-law, in typical BLACK fashion. 

“Attention, everyone. Show starts in one minute, line up in the correct order.” Rabastan Lestrange, who looked like the slightly drier version of his elder brother, spoke firmly to the models, carrying a binder full of directing sheets. He side eyed Sirius as he pointed him to stand still at the front and be ready to walk out. “Bella, go back to your place and don’t cause a fuss right now.” He guided her back to her position, in the middle of the line up, just before her sister.

Bellatrix glared at Sirius from all the way back in the queue, and he could feel her eyes throwing daggers at him. Family hatred was fueling, weirdly keeping Sirius going just to annoy and spite them all. He reminded himself of his sacred mantra: breathe in, breathe out, erase yourself, swallow, breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out, cease existing, breathe in, breathe out, swallow. Swallow .

The lights on the catwalk dimmed a little, and Sirius heard the audience go silent in anticipation, their murmuring dying down. A sophisticated classical melody started echoing through the venue, the atmosphere turning eerie and darkly whimsical. Rabastan patted Sirius on the back, and that was his sign. He swallowed, fixing his posture as he elegantly stepped on the catwalk. He waited, flexing his muscles in a strikingly elegant, yet powerful pose. A spotlight shined on him when he was ready and he walked .

☆☆☆

Backstage everyone was on the edge. There were some monitors broadcasting the runway show live, and most of the staff members were glued to the screens to follow their designated models. Remus stood in the back, making himself smaller as he found a nice spot where he could watch the show through one of the monitors without bumping into anyone. Sirius was the opening act, the main event, and that put some pressure onto Remus’ shoulders as well. His knee threatened to buckle under the tension, but he willed his body to resist. He leaned onto his cane, fingers tapping on the hilt, holding his breath as Sirius appeared at the back of the runway. Remus heard the audience gasp at the sight, and he too made a suffocated, embarrassing sound.

Supermodel Sirius Black was an otherworldly sight, much different from the man Remus had briefly got to know behind the scenes. Supermodel Sirius Black clashed with the planet around him, too beautiful to be contained in the suffocating atmosphere of the Earth. Supermodel Sirius Black didn’t just walk, he flew brilliantly like a comet, flashing before the audience’s eyes like a mirage. Remus’ jaw fell to the ground as he stared in awe, intimidated by the uncontainable beauty of supermodel Sirius Black.

Sirius’ eyes were fixed ahead of him, cold and firm. His silver irises were little, blinding stars, shining brightly on the catwalk like a small, private piece of night sky. Remus could get lost in that powerful gaze, barely even looking at the outfit Sirius was supposed to be selling. Nothing could compare to his magnificence, nothing could even get close to matching him. Dozens of photographers leaned at the base of the catwalk, showering the supermodel in tons of flashes. Sirius didn’t mind them, his eyes didn’t even flinch at the sudden assault of lights, and he kept walking like he was born to do just that. He stomped his heels like he was angry at the universe, but beautifully so. Everyone in the audience had their eyes fixed on him like he was a god fallen upon mortals, a blessing, a miracle. Sirius was much more than a model, he was much more than a pretty face in a pretty outfit: he was the epitome of the beauty of nature, a testament to the uniqueness of humankind, he was the beginning and the end all contained in an untouchable shell of cosmic magic. Sirius hadn’t even reached the end of the catwalk, and Remus already realized that he was uncontrollably, senselessly in love with him.

It was as if time itself had stopped, the universe bending around Sirius like his rhythmic clicking of heels was dictating the destiny of mankind. Remus was so incredibly weak, he could feel his heart clenching as if Sirius was squeezing it, playing with it and stomping on it until it was reshaped in a completely different form. When Sirius reached the end of the catwalk, he struck a sharp pose and Remus could have died that very moment. Sirius turned sideways, his gloved hand brushing sensually the lace patches that Remus sewed for him. It was a silent praise, a proud little showing off, one that made Remus’ insides burn with unexplored desire. Sirius tilted his head, his chin resting on his bare shoulder almost comfortingly. His lips parted a little in a seductive, yet dominant grimace and Sirius turned around, tossing his hair masterfully.

Remus couldn’t take his eyes off of Sirius’ back as he walked away, just as powerfully and rhythmically as he did the other way around. The tight jumpsuit hugged Sirius’ muscles in a way that made him look like the embodiment of both masculinity and femininity at the same time. He was a creature that transcended the simplicity of the body, Sirius was the pure image of binaryless wonder. Remus could feel goosebumps pervading his whole body, his hip shaking.

“The audience is in awe.” James grinned proudly. He was watching the show from the same monitor as Remus and Regulus, having ditched the idea of going back to his spot at the end of the catwalk in favor of lingering around backstage with the younger Black brother. After all, he already got his shots, so he might have as well gotten some extra time with the pretty artist. “They’ve never seen something like that at a BLACK show, you should be proud of yourself, Reggie.”

“Don’t call me that.” Regulus glared at the photographer with a cold, murderous gaze. Then he sighed, eyes fixed back on the monitor anxiously. “I can’t help this feeling of impending doom. We’re about to be in trouble, me and you-” Regulus tilted his head towards Remus, clenching his teeth. “Altering my mother’s design was a huge risk, and it’s not going to end well for either of us. Sirius will face the consequences, too.”

Remus wasn't brave enough to handle Regulus's gaze, so he stared guiltily at his feet. At worst, he was going to get fired, and he couldn't care less about it. Even though it would most certainly be a stain on his curriculum, it would have been worth it; having had a chance to make Sirius Black smile like, it was worth his job and much more. But the idea of Sirius being punished made him feel uneasy like never before. 

“It’s going to be alright.” James shrugged and he sounded completely confident in his words. He nudged Regulus a little, gaining an annoyed groan from him, but still James smiled. The sun charms hanging from his glasses dangled as he shook his head. “The people in the audience are loving it. If my years in the industry taught me something, I’m pretty sure your parents will see an increase in potential customers for that first outfit like they haven’t seen in years. It’s new, it’s fresh, and Sirius sold it like rent is due.” James chuckled, feeling lighthearted. “If your parents can’t praise you for bringing something good to the brand, then they’re fools.”

“You know my parents, Potter.” Regulus exhaled cynically, biting the insides of his mouth. His gaze was still glued on Sirius, watching warily as his older brother walked right past Orion and Walburga, who were watching the show in the first row. Indeed, the two of them were clearly not that impressed. “They can be the worst sometimes.”

“From a business point of view, they should be proud of you.” James’s eyes were glued on Regulus. They could distantly hear the audience clapping as Sirius made his way backstage, which was unusual. People in the audience are only expected to clap at the end of the show, but how could anyone not be ecstatic at the performance Sirius just pulled. James’ grin widened. “Anyways, it was worth it.” 

Regulus’ shoulders relaxed a little, letting the enthusiasm coming from the audience fill him. Deep down, he feared the consequences of his actions, but still he let himself drown for a moment in praise. It was a mostly unknown feeling to him, but a beautiful one nonetheless. The positive feedback allowed him to be proud of himself for once, for a millisecond, before worrying too much about what was to come. 

Remus, too, was quite proud of himself. His heart kept beating too fast, too hard the whole time Sirius was on the catwalk. As the people in the audience clapped, Remus could barely control his protective instinct. His muscles ached and he longed . The moment he saw Sirius appear behind the stage wings, he felt like flying. Beautiful, graceful, confident, brilliant, lovely Sirius. Everything all at once, Sirius . They locked eyes and they both smiled a little, as if that small moment was special, as if they both could feel the same urge of love .

☆☆☆

“You've got twenty minutes before the closing act.” Rabastan unceremoniously shoved Sirius backstage, still trying to direct the other models towards the catwalk. He was clearly stressed, and in no mood for bullshit, glaring at Sirius like he was on the verge of exploding. “ Twenty minutes . Not a second more. Don't make us wait again, or else I'll tell your parents.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. He wasn't a child, hadn't been one for longer than anyone could have known, yet people kept treating him like one; like he was a very spoiled, rotten child. Using the parents card on him was both cruel and humiliating, but he just swallowed and let the uneasiness slid down his throat. Sirius just wanted to be happy for himself, for once. He performed well, he felt gorgeous, and he had no intention of letting go of that blissful carefreeness that he so rarely got to experience. 

His eyes instinctively looked for Remus, and Sirius had no strength nor shame to ask himself why: he just needed to see him. The handsome seamster with the gentlest hands and the sweetest, scarred face was all Sirius could think of during his catwalk. The very thought of him worked better at calming Sirius’ mind than any drug, or medicine, or drink, or cigarette. Remus, who managed to make Sirius feel good about himself with just a few touches. Remus, who probably couldn’t care less about Sirius outside a professional setting. Remus, who was staring back at Sirius as if he had been waiting a lifetime for him. Remus, who smiled softly at him like Sirius was a star. Remus, who's simple existence was so inviting, so tempting, and Sirius wanted to claim him like a wild beast. It was more than just a physical need, more than just a whim. It took just a few glances and Sirius was in love , and the feeling came from the most unknown depth of his dried heart.

Remus swallowed hard, and Sirius had to gather all his rationality not to jump at his throat and eat him alive. “The second outfit-” Remus mumbled, so controlled and impossibly shy. “We need to get you dressed quickly.”

“Yes-” Yes, please Sirius whimpered helplessly, out of breath. The unfortunate mix of medications, fatigue from the catwalk and unexpected lovesickness reduced him to scrambles. “Lead the way?”

Remus didn’t need to be asked twice. He carefully grabbed Sirius’ hand without thinking too much about it, their fingers intertwining almost naturally in a perfect embrace, and the two disappeared behind the changing area curtain. James and Regulus exchanged some uncertain side looks at the weirdly intimate interaction between the two, but they let Sirius and Remus be. They were on a tight schedule, and with all the troubles surrounding the opening outfit, they had no time at all to even look at the closing one. 

Sirius shivered as Remus helped him out of the first jumpsuit, still leaning towards the seamster’s hands as he slid open the zipper. When Remus’ fingers reached the arch right above his buttlocks, Sirius suffocated a strained moan. In a sober state, Sirius would have found himself embarrassing. But he wasn’t sober; he was drugged and drunken in chemicals and passion, and in his defense Remus was condescendingly indulging in his own right. Fingers lingered on naked skin for a burningly long second, before leaving just the cold reminder of gentleness behind. The closing outfit was waiting on a velvety hanger, like a predator ready to swallow Sirius whole. 

It was yet another jumpsuit, but this one was fully skin tight and entirely made out of nude tulle, covered in intricate patterns of black lace. It gave the illusion of full nakedness and elegant modesty at the same time, covering everything that needed to be covered and leaving just enough to be seen to tease the imagination. Fortunately, the jumpsuit had enough lace on the sides to cover Sirius’ bruises, focusing the viewer's attention on the plunging gap in the front and in between the inner thighs and calves. The sleeves were nude on the outer side, and fully covered in lace on the inside, in continuation with the pattern on the side of the body, where they needed to cover up the scars. Everything was covered in tiny black crystals which were almost invisible to the naked eye, reflecting the light in a way that almost looked magical.

The jumpsuit was tight and the fabric offered Sirius little to no stretch. The seams were fragile, the delicate single layer of tulle barely holding onto itself. Remus had to help Sirius fit, carefully tugging the fabric with his knowledgeable and gentle hands, trying to squeeze the supermodel’s thin limbs inside the outfit. Sirius could barely fit, and he could feel the uncomfortable tightness around his crotch area all the way up to his shoulders. Remus wondered if the outfit was wrongfully constructed, struggling to imagine how anyone could fit in such a tiny jumpsuit. Sirius was as slim as he could possibly be, worryingly so, and he still had to suck his stomach up to get the zipper to close up. 

“And to think I lost a few pounds before this fucking show-” Sirius mumbled, his muscles tensing up, ears wide open to catch any sound of ripping. “My mother is obsessed with my weight, she probably wanted to teach me one of her goddamned life lessons. She must have set me up-” 

Sirius didn’t even have time to finish talking, when the zipper in the back of the jumpsuit popped open with an audible crack, the dents irreparably ripping in the middle. Remus’ eyes widened in shock at the pitiful scene, and he too couldn’t help but think it must have been a set up indeed. There was no way someone with Sirius’ proportions could make a zipper explode like that if the outfit was correctly made to his measurements. Remus was horrified at the sight of Sirius’ mortified face as he shivered, trying to make himself smaller and smaller, hoping to disappear in the tight folds of the fabric. He looked so fragile, so vulnerable, as if the very core of his intimacy was exposed to be mocked and ridiculed.

“I- I promise, I lost so much weight-” Sirius started babbling, pathetically needing to justify himself. He searched Remus’ eyes for judgment, but he only found patient understanding. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what to say…” Sirius shook his head, his face turning red in a way that could have looked amusing in any other situation, but in that moment it only made Remus’ heart twist with worry.

“It’s ok, we can fix it.” Remus spoke confidently, but he didn’t really trust himself to be able to do anything to solve the situation. It wasn’t as if he had the time or supplies to replace the zipper altogether, and he couldn’t do much to fix the sizing issue. But still, Sirius was looking at him with hopeful, helpless eyes, and Remus couldn’t betray his trust, no matter what. “I’m going to hand sew you in.” Remus decided it would be the only option, not an ideal one, but the only effective one.

“Can you do that?” Sirius asked worriedly, but Remus had already begun to work, his gaze focused. The seamster effortlessly threaded a needle in an instant, and he was carefully pinching the back of the jumpsuit back together. “Do you have enough time? Is it going to show?”

“I can do it quickly if I focus.” Remus muttered, masterfully passing the needle from one side of the fabric to the other, working his way up quickly. “Also, I can hide the seam in between the broken dents. I can be really precise, but please don’t move.” 

Sirius sucked up as hard as he could, feeling his insides and lungs shrink painfully. He could distantly feel the coldness of the needle brushing his skin dangerously close, but Remus never once poked him, not even when he was working against the clock. In a matter of merely minutes, Remus reached the hollow space in between Sirius’ shoulder blades, hesitating when he felt the muscles underneath clench. “Relax, I’m almost done.” Remus breathed out, his warmth instantly melting Sirius’ tenseness. 

“Thank you.” Sirius exhaled when Remus tied one last knot on the thread, finishing the precise seam, feeling like a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders. “You never poked me.”

“It’s the bare minimum.” Remus tilted his head, checking the seam to ensure it was strong enough to withstand Sirius’ untamable energy. His lips curled in a smooth, kind smile. 

“Well, I’m used to seamstresses piercing me like a colander all the time.” Sirius chuckled, turning to face Remus eye to eye. There was so much behind the seamster’ sweet, chocolate irises, and Sirius was hungry for it all. “Not everyone is as kind and considerate as you.” He teased in a mischievous tone, but he truly meant it. 

“It’s a shame. You are- precious .” The word escaped Remus’ lips before he could even register what he was saying. For a moment he wished he could take it back and choose any other less embarrassingly intimate word, but in the end he couldn’t think of anything else either way. It was the truth: Sirius was irrevocably, undeniably precious. He was a gem, a rare, fragile artifact. “Precious things are supposed to be taken care of. Whoever treated you like you were anything less than precious is a criminal.” 

Remus bit his tongue, worrying that he said too much, way more than he was allowed to as an unimportant, underpaid seamster. But Sirius’ eyes widened incredulously, filled with unshed, glimmering wetness. The supermodel didn’t flinch, he didn’t look at Remus in disgust or superiority; instead he leaned forward ever so imperceptibly, his fingers clenching against Remus’. They just stood a few inches from the other, the moment dragging forever but it was not enough. Never enough. Sirius wanted to absorb the word precious and make it a part of him, he needed to make it feel real. Remus spoke so genuinely, so unrestrainedly, so much so that he must have believed it for sure, and Sirius couldn’t understand how. How could anyone look at him, at the mess he was, and think he was worth that much care and understanding? How could anyone think he was precious ? He was crawling like a wounded animal through life, fueled by only spite and chemicals, and someone thought of him as precious . Remus was either mad, or naive. Or both. Sirius almost felt bad for him, for how innocent he was. With that gentle attitude, Remus was going to get his heart broken one day, and Sirius didn’t want to be the one to wound him. But it was so hard to step back.

“I need to go…” Sirius finally whispered, his throat dry. His heart was rushing, things happening way too quickly for him to fully grasp the extent of his emotions, thoughts and actions. He was playing with fire, and the one who risked being burned was Remus himself. Sirius couldn’t allow that, he couldn’t harm someone who thought of him as precious . “Thank you again.”

Sirius regretfully walked away, sliding past the changing area curtain with no intention of looking back.  “Wait-” Remus breathed desperately, like a baby’s first cry, and Sirius couldn’t not obey. Despite his better judgment, Sirius’ eyes met Remus’ once again. “You’re beautiful.” Remus said, and that was it.

Just like that, there was no escaping the aching desire any longer. Remus destroyed all of Sirius’ walls, and it flooded his mind with so much love and care. It took control over Sirius as Remus became the center of his universe. Sirius’ stomach dropped and his legs threatened to give up. There was a hurricane of emotions deranging in his insides, squashing and ripping his organs. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide; Remus was everywhere inside Sirius and his words resonated through his broken body in the form of pleasurable vibrations. Precious. Beautiful. Beautiful. Beautiful , not in a supermodel way, but in a precious way. Precious and beautiful . Beautiful and precious in a way that Sirius never associated with himself, but Remus was honest and genuine and Sirius had no right to deny the truths he spoke. He had to believe it, he had to bend his mind and heart to make space for Remus’ pure devotion. Sirius hesitated, every part of his body rewriting itself.

“One minute until the closing act!” Rabastan called for Sirius angrily, brutally draggin the supermodel back to reality. “Get your ass over here and don’t fuck it up!”

Sirius was emptied out, all the air knocked off his lungs. His body whitered, the lack of love drying his skin like he was dying. He forced himself to turn away from Remus and he rushed towards the stage wings, his limbs weakened, his focus shifting painfully. He lined up behind the second to last model, trying to steal her charismatic energy. Sirius recharged his performance battery and when it was his turn he stepped onto the catwalk like he was a completely different, unbothered person.

☆☆☆

Just the closing act left. Just the closing act, then Regulus was going to face the consequences of his actions and then maybe he would be allowed a single moment of rest. He needed some well deserved hours of sleep, he was about to collapse onto himself like a stumbling house of cards, but he had to keep going until the show was over. He had to keep going, because he was the only Black who could keep his cool and ensure everything went as smoothly as possible, and things were so close to not going smoothly at all. Just the closing act left, after all. Nothing could go too wrong, not after the amazing performance Sirius just pulled at the beginning of the runway show. Except the supermodel Sirius of the opening act was gone, and in his place there was a soft, weakened puppet walking the catwalk with so much feeling like he was going to break down crying lovesick tears at any moment.

“What did you do to my brother?” Regulus hissed as Remus emerged from the changing area, squeezing his way in a corner to watch the show from the same monitor as before. “He’s all wobbly and emotional . Have you messed with him, Remus?”

“I did not upset him.” Remus hesitated for a second, replaying his interactions with Sirius religiously in the front of his mind. Sirius was a shivering mess, melting under Remus’ care like he never experienced such loving attention, but he didn’t seem upset. On the contrary, Sirius seemed hungry for more, ready to devour, almost frighteningly so. It was intense, but not wrong, not unwanted, not painful. No, Remus did not upset Sirius. He made him feel all the things he deserved to feel all at once, and it was overwhelming maybe, but not upsetting.

“Well, he looks upset, and not in a charismatic way.” Regulus gritted his teeth, eyes fixed on Sirius’ unusually delicate walk. He looked out of place, far from himself. The naked illusion of the outfit he was wearing made him look even more vulnerable, exposed, when it was supposed to be sensual. It was all wrong. “Mother is not going to like that.”

“Sirius looks perfect, Reggie.” James huffed, careless as always. “To be honest, he looks better than ever.”

“Don’t call me that, Potter, this is your last warning.” Regulus’ voice tone didn’t really match the harshness of the words, betraying a little uncertainty. He glared at James with eyes that were half angry, half terribly worried. “Sirius is fragile. I know you want to believe he’s all strong and mighty, but I’ve seen him break down many times and I won’t allow anyone to mess with him just because he is a supermodel.”

“I don’t think Remus wants to play with your big brother’s heart, am I right?” James lifted an eyebrow questioningly. Remus nodded profusely, his way too honest, way too readable eyes leaving no room for doubt. “I think Sirius is allowed to be a little sentimental at times, a little bit of heart throbbing won’t hurt him.” James raised both shoulders. “It’s no big deal.” 

“You have no idea what can hurt Sirius.” Regulus hurled brusquely, snapping his neck as he turned to look daggers at James first, then at Remus. The fury in Regulus’ eyes was almost pitiful, clearly born out of love rather than malice. “He can’t just… do what he wants with his personal life. It’s going to backfire on him.”

“I don’t think Sirius plans on having a relationship with me, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Remus sighed looking at the monitor longingly. Sirius had just reached the end of the catwalk, and for a moment he looked directly into the camera broadcasting the show live. Remus felt seen, somehow, knowing deep down that Sirius was most likely still thinking about him, about them . But Remus knew better than to hope, he knew it wouldn’t last long. “We may have flirted a little bit, but he’ll forget me in a matter of days. I’m nothing compared to him.”

“I agree with you on that one, you’re really not worth him.” Regulus was starting to fly off the handle. He should have been the controlled, neutral one, but when it came to his big brother he could hardly help himself. Sirius owned an entire section of Regulus’ mind. Sirius branded himself with fire on the surface of Regulus' heart, and just the thought of him being hurt sent the younger Black on a spiraling tangent. “But Sirius is a hopeless- and I mean it goddamnit- hopeless romantic. If you get into his heart there’s no way out without cutting it open. And he will suffer because of you, mark my words.”

“You’re being unfair.” James tried to defend Remus, his face scrunching up in a tight grimace, but to no use.

“No, he’s being unfair.” Regulus retorted, flaring up. Remus flinched a little, his eyebrows arching miserably. The scars on his face tensed up tightly as he opened and closed his mouth several times, as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t bring himself to do it. He lowered his head, whipped, finally setting his gaze on a random spot on the floor. “What’s with that face?” Regulus pointed an accusatory finger at Remus. “You want to tell me that you love him? You can’t. You’ve only just met him, you don’t know him, you’re not worthy of him.”

“I don’t want to hurt him.” Remus held his breath, his chest clenching. His heart drummed against his ribcage, pressing down on his lungs. He could feel the pain corroding his limbs getting more and more unbearable as he tensed each and every muscle of his in self defense against Regulus’ words.

“Good job you’re doing at that-” Regulus hissed, looking back at the monitor. James and Remus couldn’t help but notice the way his shoulders shivered a little, like he was suppressing much more explosive feelings. “First you make him walk the catwalk with a dismembered runway piece that you ruined in the first place, then you scramble his feelings like he’s nothing .” he emphasized the last word with so much emotion that it pierced Remus’ brain like a bullet.

“He’s everything .” Remus snapped, clenching both his fists around the hilt of his cane. Just then, Remus watched from the monitor as Sirius completed his runway, his closing act. The rest of the models lined up behind him, and they all walked in a perfectly straight cue up and down the catwalk, shing the audience the entirety of the collection one last time. The other models paled compared to Sirius, struggling to keep up with everything he was.

“Indeed he is.” Regulus nodded, and Remus could see a flicker of sympathy in his eyes. It was gone in less than an instant, replaced by territorial, feral instinct to protect. “You can’t afford this little Romeo and Juliet moment you’re indulging in. The moment I see a tear running down my brother’s face because of you, I’ll make you pay with interest.” It was a threat, one that Remus wasn’t going to take lightly.

“Same goes for me.” James side eyed Remus a little. He didn’t feel as dangerously murderous as Regulus, but he was intimidating in his own rights. “Sirius is my best friend. He’s amazing, really, and if you hurt him I’ll make you regret it.” He winked, his long, dark lashes fluttering above his defined cheekbones.

Remus, on one hand, couldn’t help but feel glad that Sirius was surrounded by so many people who loved him so much, despite everything. It was true, he didn’t really know Sirius, but he was convinced that he deserved the world, the galaxy, the universe and more. But then again, on the other hand, he was slightly offended that James and Regulus instinctively labeled him as a heartbreaker of some sorts, when he genuinely could never have ill intentions towards the brightest star that was Sirius. Maybe it was the scar on his face that made him look untrustworthy, or his height, or maybe it was just love and need to protect. Either way, Sirius was going to be safe, and nothing else mattered.

☆☆☆

The runway was over. Done, finished. Sirius managed to survive another show, and not without difficulty, but he still couldn’t be allowed to breathe a sigh of relief. Even after the rest of the models walked away backstage, Sirius stood like a living piece of art at the center of the runway, as per tradition for the brand. He was the muse, after all, the image of the House of BLACK , and his parents loved to exploit every second of his existence even after he worked several exhausting hours going on with no food or proper rest. Sirius posed for the cameras, showing off the closing outfit as Mr. and Mrs. Black gave the audience a soulless speech to wrap the show.

Walburga stepped onto the catwalk gracefully, showing off her impeccable outfit for the night. She was wearing an Edwardian inspired sheath dress which reached below her knees, with long, voluminous sleeves. The boning in the bust area hugged her enviable waist, making her look as sinuous as a Stradivarius violin. The dress was made out of black, decorated velvet, hemmed with lace, and silver trimmings. The outfit was completed with a short capelet that enhanced her sharp shoulders and a pair of high heeled, chamois ankle boots.

Her eyes locked with Sirius’ for a split moment. It was enough to let him know just how utterly furious she was. His mother’s gaze spoke louder than words, and it hurt just as sharply as a slap. She clenched her jaw and Sirius imperceptibly flinched back, looking away like a guilty child. The audience clapped gleefully at the designer and the muse, praising the fateful encounter of artist and art. Sirius forced himself to smile when his father stepped next to him, cold and stern. The fashion journalist and photographers thrived for moments like that, when the whole family was reunited for the world to see. The members that mattered to the media, at least. Sirius wanted the ground beneath him to burst open and swallow him whole.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Walburga cleared her voice neatly as the applause died down a little. Her tight face tensed in a thin, haughty smile, one that wasn’t supposed to appeal to the spectators, rather make them feel a little intimidated. “Thank you for your time. I trust that such a fine audience saw what we of the House of BLACK intended to represent with our new collection this season. The pieces you just witnessed were not designed to appease the masses, rather to elevate the taste of those who still believe in the pureness of art. This collection exists because it was needed .” She spoke coldly, yet charismatically. Walburga Black had a unique charm to her, a mix of haughtiness and elegance that made her shine even after years in the industry.

“Our brand aims to restore the sacred foundations of fashion, we focus on defining the future of the industry by honoring the values of our past.” Orion declared with a pompous sense of pride, his broad chest expanding as he spoke. “And that’s what you just witnessed, a glimpse of a better future. One in which we preserve and conserve the elegant lines and the beautiful structures that represent the times where things were easier, less brutal.” He looked over the crowd, his chin held up.

“In the House of BLACK we believe that progress, for the sake of progress, must be discouraged.” A small, self-satisfied grin appeared on Walburga’s face, her words cold and precise. “Those are the values we want to teach our future generations.” She glared at Sirius sideways, her controlled expression never wavering. “Respect, discipline and order, all of which find fertile ground in the beauty of lace and the softness of chiffon and tulle.”

“Fashion is art, and art is the structure of society.” Orion’s voice dropped lower, his hands clasped behind his back, his posture pretentious and conceited. “To our creative team, we won’t waste words on frivolous pleasantries. We expected greatness from each and every one of you, and that’s what we got.” His words were carefully measured.

“To our models-” Walburga gestured at the wings of the stage with an elegant gesture. “Every single one of you embodied our vision with intelligence and the proper regard.” She complimented, her tone slow, detached. “To our lead muse, Sirius, our son -” She finally turned to properly look at Sirius, showing him off to the audience more like he was a piece of meat, rather than the son she should have been proud of. “We entrusted you with our legacy. Once again, you proved yourself to be the epitome of our values. It runs in our blood, after all.”

Sirius gave his mother a polite, stiff nod, as if he was performing a choreographed play. He swallowed his pride and molded his face to fit what his parents wanted to see. His smile almost looked real, effortless. That was what he did best, after all. Sirius couldn’t bear his mother’s gaze as she reminded him that he was theirs , his eyes searching for something less scary to look at. The audience was dissecting him. Sirius’ jaw tightened painfully; he couldn’t wait for that humiliating act to end.

“To the critics and media, your valuable opinions will be taken into account.” Orion’s eyes narrowed, as if daring the audience to challenge him. “This collection is a testament of the heritage of our brand, a patrimony much bigger than me and my wife. We shared our art with you, and you’re free to dissect it on your own terms.”

“The show was a great success, and for that we thank you again.” Walburga offered the spectators a noble reverence. She showed off her perfectly proportionate silhouette, bending with such controlled elegance that could have made most models jealous. “Goodnight.” Then, with one last stern, icy cold look at the audience, she turned away and walked backstage, ready to eat her sons alive.

Chapter Text

Remus was naive enough to believe things wouldn’t turn out too sour. The speech Mr. and Mrs. Black gave to the audience at the end of the show tricked him into genuinely thinking that they were at least decently satisfied with the results of the runway. He wasn’t prepared for the hell that was about to unfold.

“Regulus Arcturus Black!” Walburga screeched as soon as she got a glimpse of her youngest son backstage. She gritted her serpent fangs, her eyes filled with venomous rage. “What were you thinking?!” 

Regulus braced himself when his mother launched herself at him, her hands reaching for his face, throat, hair. James was quick to react and he tried to put some space in between the woman and her son, stepping in front of Regulus. “Whoa! Mrs. Black, I think we should all calm down-” Walburga couldn’t be bothered with James and he groaned as he was pushed to the side unceremoniously.

Walburga wasn’t one to fully lose her marbles in public like that; she tended to preserve her anger for more private moments where she and her husband could unleash their frustrations on their sons as viciously as they deemed necessary, without worrying too much about the consequences. But all her usual poise and control were quickly forgotten and she grabbed a fistful of Regulus’ curls, yanking him violently. Her grip was firm, knuckles white with rage, and Regulus did nothing to fight back, keeping his eyes shut as to hide away from his own mother’s poisonous punishment.

“Enfant gâté, sans honte!” Walburga spat, instinctively switching to French as she always did when she was fuming in anger. Spoiled child , Regulus winced, with no shame! If only Walburga knew how ashamed his youngest child actually was, being wrenched around like that. “You dismembered one of my runway pieces! You managed to embarrass me in front of the whole audience with your little stunt! Are you proud of yourself?! Did you think I wouldn’t notice your distasteful touch with those- répugnant leather pieces of rubbish you pulled?! I should have burned your little prototypes long ago!” The backstage area grew colder as Walburga shrieked, her words knocking the air out of the lungs of the whole production team. 

Regulus' heart hammered in his chest, but he didn't move, he didn’t allow himself to retaliate. He knew better than to provoke his mother when she derailed, and either way he never had the strength to fight back when it came to her. The least he could do in that situation was try to appear smaller, maybe disappear, and preserve what little dignity he had left by not bending in front of the rest of the BLACK crew. Remus was frozen in place, eyes wide. He didn’t know what to do, his hands tensing and sweating as he pondered whether it would have been wise to intervene or not. James’ muscles were all tense, almost on the verge of exploding, and he was clearly struggling to prevent himself from ripping Walburga’s hair off her skull. He opted not to, mostly for Regulus’ sake, as hitting his mother brutally wouldn’t help his situation, no matter how much James wanted to. He bit his tongue to suppress the urge to hurt. James, always the optimist, still hoped that Walburga would not cross any lines in front of everyone, though she kept yanking Regulus around like a ragdoll. No one did anything, too scared of the repercussions. The other models hid in their designated changing areas, some peaking through the curtains, but no one intervened. Not even when Walburga raised her hand, ready to strike Regulus’ face with her open palm.

“Maman!” Sirius came running backstage right at that moment, struggling to move properly with his heels and skin tight jumpsuit threatening to fall apart at any second. “Maman, stop, are you out of your mind?! Let him go!” He pushed his way between his mother and Regulus, shielding his baby brother with his own body.

“Do not talk to your mother like that! I’ll deal with you later, Sirius, move!” Walburga hissed, her eyes wide as if they were about to pop out of her orbits. She really didn’t want to focus on her eldest at that moment, in front of everyone. Sirius, contrary to Regulus, had a public image and reputation that couldn’t be tarnished too much. But her resentment towards him grew more and more destructive the more he rebelled against her.

“No, you leave Regulus the fuck alone!” Sirius screamed, his voice hoarse. Regulus shrinked behind him, murmuring something along the lines of ‘ it’s ok, don’t worry’, but Sirius didn’t bulge. “I made him alter the outfit, so take it out on me!”

Walburga clenched her jaw so tight that her face almost changed shape, becoming a twisted, contorted, even more terrifying mockery of her usual icy beauty. “Éhonté! San honte!” She fumed. Sirius was making it really hard for her to not hurt him irreparably in front of the whole production team. “Of course it’s you! It’s always you! You! Ungrateful, spoiled brat!” She was about to strike, when her husband appeared from the stage wings, calmly walked backstage.

“We’ll deal with them later, my wife. They’re not worth the anguish on your face.” Orion spoke placidly, as if the situation didn’t bother him all that much. His sons understood their father well enough to recognize the hint of well hidden fury in his tone. Orion was dangerously impeccable in his ability to keep his cool, his face never showing a hint of feeling. “Who’s the seamstress that was assigned to Sirius today?” He asked nonchalantly, his soulless eyes searching the room, scrutinizing each and every terrified witness.

“That was me, sir.” Remus stepped forward after a split moment of hesitation, pushing his head up. He couldn’t miss the little strained gasp that escaped Sirius’ throat. Remus’ joints burned in protest, his body trying to shut down.

Orion’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the seamster up and down, not even bothering to conceal his immediate aversion. Remus could feel the man’s judgment on his skin like actual hands peeling off his skin. Orion’s frown became deeper and meaner as he traced the length of all of the scars on Remus’ face with an icy cold gaze, then he turned to his clothes. The Black designer clicked his tongue as he noticed the patches and discolured pins on the seamster’s jacket, and the off-putting holes and rips on his wide jeans. Remus instinctively buried his hands deep in his pocket, which only made his posture look even more lanky and displeasing in Orion’s eyes.

“You’re fired.” Orion simply said, his tone contained and glacial. “Pack your stuff and leave.”

“Père, it’s not his fault.” Sirius protested, slightly moving forward before he could even think of what he was doing. He kept shielding his brother, his arm moving backwards to keep Regulus grounded behind him, but he reached for his father almost pleadingly. “He only did what I asked him to.”

Sirius’ words only annoyed Orion more, who stared down at Remus cruelly. “Did you read your contract? Can you even read?” He spat, and Remus could only nod, too emptied out to even feel offended. “So, you should have been aware of the fact that you were working for me and my wife. Not for Sirius, not for Regulus.” Orion slightly raised his voice, getting visibly angrier. He paused, dragging a hand through his short, jet black hair. Once he calmed down a little, he kept hissing. “You’ve damaged a runway piece that’s worth more than your annual paycheck. Leave, before I contact my lawyers and decide to press charges.”

“It’s not fair!” Sirius’ voice cracked a little. “Remus is the most talented seamster I’ve ever worked with. Just look at his seamwork! You can’t fire him like that, you won’t find a better substitute anywhere!” Sirius was wavering, his gaze darting from Remus, to his father, to his mother. “Père, maman, it’s my fault and my fault only.”

“What is your problem?” Walburga growled acidly, the very few wrinkles on her face becoming more sullen and evident. “What went through your hollow brain?!” She yelled.

“I don’t know, maman, I just needed to cause some drama, ok?” Sirius scoffed, the expression in his face shifting agonizingly from panicked and tense to awkwardly arrogant and snotty. He smirked to provoke his mother. “Is that a good enough answer for you?”

Walburga shook her head, her left eye twitching undetectably. “Did you take drugs?” She barked, her face turning red. Sirius hesitated, breathing out guiltily. He avoided his mother’s gaze, and she tried to move behind him to talk to Regulus. “Regulus, tell me, did your brother take drugs?” 

“Maman…” Regulus lowered his head apologetically. He hunched his shoulders, almost completely disappearing behind Sirius. He breathed sharply, sucking air as if his lungs were refusing to expand. Sirius could feel the panic taking over his baby brother, like a demon was possessing him. Regulus always retracted when Walburga was angry, disappearing until he was left a shell of himself. Sirius expanded his chest like a beast trying to impose dominance and he faced his mother head on.

“Fine, I did.” Sirius flared up, finding the courage within himself to expose his weakness in front of Walburga. He was terrified of the way she glared at him as if he was a piece of disgusting trash. “I took some pills. I messed up and I caused a scene. Can you please leave Regulus out of this?” He pleaded, his gaze never flickering.

Walburga shut her eyes, breathing in and out. Then she focused on Regulus again, her disappointment palpable. “I told you to check on Sirius and make sure he doesn’t take drugs before a show!” She snarled.

“Regulus is not my babysitter, I can make terrible decisions by myself.” Sirius tried to protest, but Walburga promptly shut him down. 

“Clearly!” She snapped explosively, her focus fully shifting onto Sirius. He flinched at her aggressive tone, but at least he got her attention off of his baby brother. “Clearly all you can do is make a fool out of yourself and bring shame to our name! Dieu, what did I do to deserve a son like you?” Walburga spat, tearing Sirius apart. “You’re a disgusting addict, wasting the precious life I gave you! Wasting all the opportunities I work so hard to hand to you on a silver plate, because you're good for nothing on your own!” She looked down on her son with so much disappointment it made Sirius’s stomach contort. He could feel bile rising up his throat, burning when he forced himself to swallow. And swallow. “You never listen, you never grow past the spoiled child you are. You’ll never learn, you’re just a lost cause and your father and I are cretins, for still trying to handle you.”

“Anything else?” Sirius managed to roll his eyes, despite the sheer hurt he was suppressing deep down. His chest ached and burned, and he could feel his stomach gurgling and threatening to explode. He was thankful for the fact that he hadn’t eaten anything in a whole day, or else he could have very much retched at that very moment. “If I disgust you so much, why do you keep parading me to the whole world?”

“Because you are my best creation. I made you beautiful, even though you try everything in your power to ruin yourself. And I’ve got the right to show the world my art, just like I do with my collections.” Walburga clenched her fists so hard her arms shook.

Sirius withered at his mother’s words, like a flower dying after the sudden and cruel arrival of winter. Never in his life did he ever feel so wounded, so insulted by the word beautiful . A word that was supposed to be nice, and comforting, one that many people would love to hear associated with them at least once. But it didn’t feel like a compliment, rather it hit him like a stab straight to his chest. Beauty, as his mother intended it, was more like a curse than anything else. It was a painful duty, a crushing weight slowly squashing Sirius down, and he could do nothing to withstand it.

“Maman, please stop…” Regulus mumbled, forcing the words out of his mouth. The words were sour, sticking on his tongue a little too long, afraid to leave the safety of Regulus’ throat. “Everyone’s watching.” He babbled like a child speaking his first words.

“We can handle this at home, Walburga.” Orion shook his head, glaring at his sons like they were strangers. “Regulus, go check if Rodolphus and Rabastan need any help to wrap up things backstage. Make sure to do what they ask you and nothing else.” He watched as Regulus dutifully disappeared without question, glad to escape the situation. “And you-” Orion then growled at Sirius, his voice low, towering on top of his son like he was nothing but an inconvenience. “Go get changed. We’ll deal with your problem later.” 

☆☆☆

Regulus did not need to be told twice to leave. He ran , ignoring the pitiful look the rest of the crew was sending him, putting on the coldest face he could manage. Regulus was drained. His parents had the power to put off that eternally consuming fire that was eating him alive, just by raising their voice a little more than usual. Regulus wanted to believe that he had grown past the childish era in which he desperately craved his mommy’s love . Yet every time she seemed upset, Regulus just stopped functioning. Every time she broke him- over and over again- Regulus diverted back to the desperately lonely child he was and he craved her love and understanding more than anything. He could feel his body shake and crumble, as if every word she spoke was slowly picking apart bits and pieces of him, of his armor, leaving him naked, exposed, vulnerable.

Rabastan and Rodolphus didn’t mind Regulus, they never did, and thus they didn’t have much for him to do. Regulus still took it upon himself to pick up small tasks to keep his mind occupied, and to have an excuse to stay away from his parents as long as he could. He stumbled upon a broom and he decided to just sweep the floor aimlessly until his arms began to ache. He tried to focus on anything else but the stupid, weak voice in his brain that kept instilling doubt into his thoughts. Why? he asked himself, why can’t I ever fight back? He wasn’t the idiotically soft child he used to be, he didn’t need his parents' attention to be whole; but he still couldn’t feel whole when they just wouldn’t stop making him feel like nothing. As he sweeped the floor out of pure desperation, Regulus could still feel that old longing. It was pathetic, he hated it, but it was still there, weighing down on his throbbing heart. His father was a scar wounded deep inside his brain, and his mother was a rotting cancer eating his heart until it would stop beating. Regulus hoped he could cut them off of him, physically rip the part of his body that ached for them, but he feared he would die without them. He feared he would bleed to death if he didn’t have their presence to patch him up, even if they did so by yelling and hurting. He felt hollow, emptied, and his parents weren’t equipped to fill him but he still wanted them to. Regulus thought, for the longest time, that without their love and approval he was destined to be incomplete forever.

Regulus kept sweeping the same section of floor until it was pristine, and he still kept going. He found a little comfort in the mechanical, repetitive movement of swinging his arms right and left, slowly losing contact with the buzzing voices around him. Swing left, swing right. Regulus walked in circles mindlessly, until he heard something he just couldn’t bring himself to ignore. As if awakening from a dream, Regulus paused, the broom hovering mid-swing, and he listened .

“-And the stories I’ve heard from Sirius, Lily, you can’t even imagine. It’s been like this for years, and it gets much worse.” James hissed  through gritted teeth. He sounded angry and worried at the same time, truly a miserable mix. He clumsily looked around as if to make sure no one was watching them or eavesdropping. He didn’t notice Regulus, though, as the youngest Black was used to making himself invisible when he needed to. “Today they crossed the line, and everyone saw… I really think we should speak about this. We’ve got a huge platform, it would be criminal not to use it to spread awareness.”

“I’ll talk to Severus and see what we can do about it.” Lily exhaled, nervously biting her lower lip. She kept scratching the back of her head with a pen, her long, copper hair getting tangled under the cap. “He is a lot more cautious and thoughtful than we are, and I think it’s a good thing in cases like this. We should hear his thoughts on the matter before moving forward with an article.”

“You listen to him too much.” James groaned, urgently scratching the bridge of his nose, where his golden glasses left a deep furrow. “You call him cautious, I’d say he’s spineless when it comes to issues that actually matter.” 

“Exposing the abusive behaviour of some of the most beloved designers of our times won’t be an easy thing to do.” Lily sighed, tilting her head. “It will bring a lot of negative press to our magazine, and we can’t exactly move forward without the approval of the higher-ups…”

Regulus couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His ears were buzzing, his brain screaming in panic. “What-” He spat breathlessly, approaching the two with a murderous fire in his eyes. “What are you two nosy fucks talking about?” 

James jumped back, his precious hazel eyes widening. “Regulus, uhm…” He opened and closed his mouth, struggling to find the words. “Listen, I figured you would be hesitant to share the situation, but-” 

“I'm not hesitant, Potter, I'm adamant.” Regulus spat, his muscles threatening to burst. “You two will not speak a word of it with anyone. Do you hear me?” His voice was raw, scratching his throat. 

Regulus was feeling hot all over, his face turning an embarrassingly pathetic shade of red. He held his breath, trying to keep his fears locked inside. He felt like a dam about to crumble, and he wasn’t ready to be flooded by the mass of complicated, painful feelings he kept trying to suppress in the darkest pits of his soul.

“Regulus, dear-” Lily murmured, but Regulus barked back at her with no hesitation.

“I’m not your dear, Evans.” Regulus was visibly distressed, and Lily shut her mouth immediately. “Mind your own business, the both of you. Do not stick your noses in things that do not concern you. I’m warning you, don’t mess with this family or you will regret it.”

“ You will regret this passive attitude.” James barked back, frowning. He raised his voice a little. “Aren’t you tired of dealing with your parents? Aren’t you tired of being hurt and humiliated like that? Aren’t you tired of watching Sirius be berated and abused, in such plain sight?”

At those words, Regulus’ whole world fell apart; a sinkhole appeared under Regulus’ feet and he was sucked in and buried deep in an abyss of darkness and shadows. James’ voice turned into something sharp and painful, a razor slicing long, deep cuts into Regulus. It wasn’t fair. Bringing up Sirius was not fair. He was the one person who loved Regulus despite all of his wrong doing, when everyone else despised Regulus, despite the things he so desperately tried to do right. Sirius, who had been suffering for the both of them since they were children. Sirius, who would have died for his baby brother. Sirius, who made Regulus realize how awful their parents were. Sirius, who spoke too much and always got hurt. Sirius, who broke his baby brother’s heart with his fierce protective instinct. It wasn’t fair. Regulus was bleeding out, drowning, and James wasn’t being fair.

“You have no right to speak about my family like this, you know nothing!” Regulus’ voice was strained, his throat closing up and burning. “Whatever my brother told you, he should have kept his mouth shut, for his own good. And you should stop instigating him, if you genuinely don’t want to see him hurt!” Regulus clenched his fists until his hands hurt, knuckles turning white. He wanted James to know, to understand, just how horrible it was to live with a brother like Sirius. With a brother who’s strong, untamable, and who can’t seem to love himself even half as much as he loves Regulus. “The Black family’s businesses are none of your concern, stop acting like you’ve got any say on the matter just because you and Sirius have a thing for each other.”

“I just don’t want to see you struggling.” James’ hands were tingling, his blood rushing through his veins. He stared at Regulus with a firm, yet gentle gaze. “Why do you defend them? You said it yourself, your parents are the worst!” James raised his voice again despite himself.

“That’s not what I said, stop putting words into my mouth and lower your damn voice.” Regulus pointed an accusatory finger at James, gritting his teeth and hissing. “What I meant is that my parents can be a real pain in the ass sometimes, but that gives you no right to destroy our family and stick your nose into our business just because you’ve got a hero complex.”

James gasped and stumbled as if he got punched in the guts. Regulus noticed the way the man’s brilliant eyes turned darker behind his glasses. A flicker of a shadow obscured his beautiful face, in a way that made James look like a completely different person. His lips were sealed in a twisted grimace, the veins on his thick neck throbbing.

“Ok, guys, I think we should calm down.” Lily slid in between the two men, pushing James to the side. She forced her lips to curl into a comforting smile, but she lacked the signature sparkle in her emerald eyes. “We’re probably making the situation worse by fighting right now. Regulus, if we promise to drop this for now, would you be available for further talking on the matter in the future? When we’re all calmer and in a better state of mind?”

“You will drop this, it’s not up to question.” Regulus couldn’t bear the look in Lily’s eyes. Her gaze was notoriously too intense to handle at times, and he could finally see why.  “Even better, you will forget what you saw today and never mention it again. I mean it, it won’t end well if you play any games.” He snapped, his tone firm, final .

“Ok, we won’t do anything.” Lily sighed and she raised her hands, defeated. 

Regulus’ tone didn’t leave room for discussion, he made sure both Lily and James understood that the discussion was over. For as much as she cared, Lily couldn’t be the one to heal the pretty evident and deeply rooted emotional scars Regulus was hiding. She dropped the notebook she had been using to write down the basic structure of the article into a bean. James looked at her sideways, half disappointed, half understanding. He couldn’t help feeling angry and painfully confused. He knew, deep down, that it wasn’t Regulus’ fault. Still, it was hard having to watch both his best friend and the boy he sort of wanted to kiss on the mouth day and night be abused.

“I will never understand you.” James hitched under his breath, and it was alright. He didn’t need to understand to be there for the Black brothers, no matter what.

☆☆☆

Sirius dropped onto the makeup chair like a corpse, exhaling deeply until his lungs were completely, painfully empty. Frustration took control of his body and he had to restrain himself from throwing stuff across the room. His hands were shaking with the need to destroy something, anything. He wanted to tear, slap, cut, break, rip, hurt, hurt, hurt . Something inside his body ached too much, he was in so much pain it was unbearable. His vision blurred and the world became a senseless, messy spot spinning around him. Sirius’ eyes were stinging as if he had shoved a full pack of pins and needles inside his orbs. He wanted to pluck his brain out; he needed to scream and cry like a dumb, sensitive child, he craved to throw a temper tantrum but he felt just too miserable even for that.

“I hate them-” Sirius muttered, face buried deep in between his trembling hands. His fingers curled around his eyes, nails almost digging inside his eyelids and cheekbones. “I fucking hate them, I can't stand them!” He screamed, forcing his voice out of his clenching throat. 

“Shh, breathe.” Marlene hummed, carefully massaging Sirius’ head. She buried her fingers in his hair, undoing the simple hairstyle she made for him and drawing circles around his nape, his temples, down his neck. “Don't let your parents hear you. Breathe . You're safe here, it's just us.”

Sirius tried to breathe properly. He really tried, but all he could manage were suffocated whimpers that did nothing to satisfy his desperate need for air. His lungs hardened like dry sponges, feeling heavy and scraping against his chest. It hurt . Dorcas squeezed Sirius’ hand and it kept him grounded in his fucked up reality. Marlene shot her girlfriend a worried glance and the two just sighed, trying to soothe their messed up friend.

“Sirius, love, let me remove your eye makeup, ok?” Mary hesitated, a cotton pad soaked in high quality micellar water ready in her hand. 

She didn’t want to say it outloud, but she would have preferred to remove Sirius’ makeup with products that were actually kind to his unusually delicate skin, rather than wait for him to burst into tears and dissolve his mascara with salt. But Sirius held still, sniffing inelegantly and groaning, but refusing to cry.

“I'm sorry.” Sirius basically vomited the apology, the words tasting sour and acidic against his tongue. “I'm sorry for how I treated you girls earlier.” He almost sobbed.

The girls exchanged some confused looks, taken aback. Sirius was tense like a violin chord, his shoulders shuddering violently. In all the years they had worked for the House of BLACK , had seen instances of Sirius being abused in many situations, to the point that they were almost desensitized to the issue. Seeing their friend being hurt was basically the norm, but still the three girls rarely ever saw Sirius breakdown like that in front of them. They knew he could be an overdramatic mess at times, but he tended to shield his beauty team from his most miserable moments. They usually saw Sirius vent his anger through pettiness and witty remarks, not by being sad to the point it hurt.

“Hey, it's alright…” Mary let out a weak chuckle, pressing the soaked cotton pad against Sirius’ forehead and scrubbing gently until he whined and allowed her to work on his eyes like she asked.

“Sirius…” Marlene sighed; she wasn’t really good with expressing her feelings, especially unpleasant ones. She hesitated, trying to find solace in Dorcas’ firmly grounded gaze. “Listen, mate, now it's not the time, ok?” 

“No, now it's the right fucking time because I'm so damn angry and I fear I could snap again and scream at you all over again.” Sirius bursted, his voice cracking at every other syllable. “I don't want to. I'm so fucking sorry, I don't know what to do with all this- rage.” He bit his tongue, trying to keep himself from yelling.

“Find a non-destructive way to let it out.” Dorcas squeezed his shoulder firmly, shaking him a little. “Screaming and insulting the people around you isn't the only way to get rid of your inner madness.”

“I want to throw stuff against the wall.” Sirius snarled, shaking his head. He grinded his jaw until it almost popped out of place. “I want to throw myself against the wall and bang my head until it fucking breaks.” 

Marlene instinctively tightened her grip around Sirius’ hair protectively, keeping his head solidly in place. He hissed a little, but he didn’t complain, though Dorcas side eyed her girlfriend as a warning. One could never tell with Sirius; if he was exaggerating with his words, or if he was being one hundred percent deadpan serious. And it wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibilities that he was indeed about to crack his head open with no regrets, considering his backstory.

Right at that moment, as if things couldn’t get even more emotionally strained and complicated, Remus appeared with his little seam ripper tool in his hand. Mary looked up from her cotton pads and micellar water, and she let out a strained sigh.

“What are you doing here?” She asked roughly, chewing her words. “Weren’t you fired?”

“Sirius had to be sewn inside that gown.” Remus shrugged, staring a little too intensely at the back of Sirius’ head, struggling to conceal the way he was longing . “I figured he would need some help getting out of it.”

Sirius’ head snapped back as soon as he heard Remus’ voice, and in a matter of a millisecond his face regained a slightly healthier glow. “I’m so glad they didn’t kick you out, knowing my father-” He sounded so relieved to see Remus, so beautifully excited. “Can you girls leave us alone? I quite literally need to get naked right now.”

Marlene, Dorcas and Mary all rolled their eyes at the same time. And to think they were all so worried about Sirius just a second before, and he just managed to turn into a flirty, mindless lovesick bastard as if nothing happened. Good for him , they thought, deep down they only wished that he could always retain that carefree attitude. Marlene grabbed Dorcas’ hand and she basically dragged her away with a scoff, Mary following close by.

“Gross.” Marlene mumbled under her breath, grimacing, before the three of them disappeared.

Remus hesitated for a second before approaching Sirius. He kept his head down, too timid and weak to meet the model’s too expressive eyes. Sirius pouted a little, and he made a small, whiny sound to try and catch the seamster attention, but to no avail. Remus just got ready with his seam ripper, brushing his fingers against the broken zipper to find the perfect place to start tearing it apart. Sirius slid his hair to the front of his shoulders, offering the back of the dress for Remus to do his magic. 

“Remus, I’m sorry for how my father treated you… He’s an asshole to everyone, really. He shouldn’t have insulted you.” Sirius finally spoke after a long, insufferable moment of silence. Remus’ hand exploring his back ever so gently was too much to handle in silence, and the words escaped Sirius like a desperate plea.

“It’s ok, I don’t mind.” A shy, subtle smile appeared on Remus’ face. His gaze met Sirius’ in a bittersweet, knowing exchange of understanding. “Tell me if I’m hurting you, or if you’re feeling uncomfortable. It should take me a minute.” Remus warned before he began ripping the seam apart.

Sirius sucked in, instinctively trying to pyre away from the sharp tool, but he didn’t really need to because Remus was just so careful. The sound of threat popping and tearing made Sirius jump ever so slightly, but Remus just soothed him gently and he never even scraped the skin beneath his fingers. Remus hummed softly, working his way from the top of the seam down the bottom, freeing Sirius’ hips last. Sirius shivered as the cold air hit his back, and he gladly accepted Remus’ help to slide off the remains of the jumpsuit.

“Thank you, again… for not poking me even once.” Sirius sighed, hugging himself inside a silky, black dressing robe. He found the softness and lightness of the fabric to be really comforting, and he brushed the side of his face against it, breathing in. “You’d have all the right to at least pinch me a little after what you went through because of me.”

Remus stiffened, frowning deeply at Sirius. “Stop, don’t even joke about it.” He exhaled sharply, feeling a strange ache twisting his insides. Sirius avoided Remus’ gaze, looking sideways at the makeup mirror, his eyes wandering to the side of his body, to the bruises that were hidden under the silky dressing gown. Remus wanted to erase all the bad memories from Sirius’ mind. “You don’t deserve to be hurt, not even a little bit.”

“You’re too nice to me.” Sirius forced out a strained, pained chuckle, his shoulders hunching onto himself. He was rocking himself imperceptibly, like a scared child.

They stayed in silence for what felt like an eternity. Remus nervously bit the insides of his mouth. He didn’t really know what to say to make Sirius feel better. The silence was pressing, but not entirely uncomfortable; still, the tension was unwelcomed. Remus did the only thing that he hoped could help Sirius regain his gorgeous smile. He searched for a half eaten Mars buried inside his deep, patchy pockets, and he unwrapped it. He carefully broke it in half, and he offered the uneaten half to Sirius, stuffing the other in his mouth.

“Here, eat this.” Remus mumbled, his mouth doughy with chocolate. “It’ll help.”

“I can’t eat high-calorie junk.” Sirius scoffed, biting the nail of his thumb until he reached the flesh. “A moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips.” He sang in a high-pitched, mocking tone, his voice cracking a little.

“Come on, it’s just a piece.” Remus shrugged. “Chocolate is the most effective medicine I know.”

Sirius looked at the piece of chocolate a little warily, his bottom lip curling in a soft grimace. He pondered, calculating his next move. His eyes studied the consistency of the insides of the chocolate bar, squinting a little at the inviting sight of caramel dripping onto the wrapper.

“I promise it’s not poisoned.” Remus let out a gentle chuckle. “I always keep one on myself because I suffer from drops in blood pressure, and I swear it fixes all my problems in an instant.”

Something inside Sirius snapped then, and he greedily stuffed the piece of chocolate in his mouth, almost swallowing the wrapper with it. The sudden sugary kick sent shocking waves all over Sirius’ starving body, his brain snapping awake as if it had been working on autopilot for who knows how long. It was an overwhelming feeling. Sirius’ insides protested as they tried to make space for some juicy, caloric food for the first time in days. The sweetness of cocoa and caramel was almost too much to handle, and Sirius curled up onto himself, overcome by sorrow.

“You can cry if you want to.” Remus whispered, gently stroking Sirius’ arm. “Your parents were awful to you earlier. Believe me when I say you don’t owe them this toughness they expect from you. You’re allowed to be vulnerable.”

Sirius shuddered, leaning in Remus’ kind touch. He suppressed a pathetic cry, shutting his eyes and feeling the aching burn of unshed tears. When Remus’ fingers curled delicately around his forearm, Sirius felt something inside him shatter. Remus’ thumb caressed Sirius like he was made of crystal, and he cracked. A tear rolled down the model’s face, digging a deep furrow along his reddening cheek. The first crack triggered a series of other cracks, and in a matter of seconds Sirius’ heart was in pieces and he sobbed.

“I hate them so much.” Sirius cried out, biting his tongue. “I hate the way they make me feel like I’m nothing more than a thing to them. Like I’m just a pretty thing they can show around, and nothing more.” His shoulders were convulsing. “They’ve never loved me, much less my brother, and I shouldn’t care because they’re awful. But still, I feel so horrible when I think about it… When I think about the fact that even the people who put me into this world can’t even look at me without feeling disgusted.” Sirius buried his hands in his hair and he had to resist the urge to pull. “Jeez, I’m talking way too much- You must think I’m crazy.”

“You’re not crazy. I think you’re hurt, and that you’ve never allowed yourself to properly talk about it.” Remus whispered softly, shaking his head; he couldn’t help but feel Sirius’ distress as if it was his own. “Bottling up your feelings can only lead to more pain, until you break. If venting with me can help you feel even just a little bit better, then I’m all ears.”

“I broke once already.” Sirius’s voice trembled and he instinctively clenched his fist against his wrist. He could feel the bumpy outline of his scar under the thin layer of silk. “For years I’ve been asking myself like… Am I such a horrible person? Am I so disgusting that I am unworthy of love? Of being alive altogether?” 

Sirius dug his nails into his arm without thinking, the sleeve of the dressing gown acting as the sole protection that prevented him from cutting into his skin all over again. Remus gasped worriedly and he carefully untangled Sirius’ fingers, drawing small circles on the back of his hand. 

“It’s ok…” The seamster whispered, and he sounded so miserable.

“Don’t worry, I… got a little better since then.” Sirius half lied. “I’ve got some friends I can trust, and a brother that tries so hard. But still sometimes I just… wish I could have just died.” He admitted with a deep sigh, feeling ashamed of himself for allowing himself to speak about it. 

Back when he attempted, Sirius had been inconsolably disappointed at the fact that he survived. And that was, admittedly, the worst he had ever felt about himself. Wishing to die was one thing, but being disappointed by life itself was a whole other complicated, more deeply rooted and rotten feeling. One that Sirius had tried to fight so hard since then, with the help of all the people who cared about him enough to deal with his consistent lack of self respect. And to admit, years later, that he never fully got over the disappointment of being alive was humiliating and liberatory at the same time.

“I’m so glad you’re still here, and I’m sure your brother and friends are glad as well.” Remus hummed, his voice as gentle and soothing as a lullaby. He cupped Sirius’ hand in his, as to never let him go down the spiraling abyss of his thoughts alone ever again. “I may have just met you, but I assure you that you’ve left a huge impact in my life. If you weren’t here right now, I would be incomplete. And the worst thing is, I wouldn’t even have known it, but I would have lived my life without an important piece of my soul. You’re such a unique experience, and I promise… you’re worthy of love. You deserve life more than most people.”

Sirius' heart stopped beating for a long moment. His brain stopped sending impulses to the rest of his body, leaving Sirius completely numb and pain free. His lungs were empty, blood stopped flowing through his veins and the chronic ache in his stomach was suddenly forgotten. All he could focus on was Remus and the lovely, oh too lovely things he said. Sirius was assaulted by the desperate urge to bury himself deep inside Remus’ mouth and extract more and more gentle words out of him. Sirius wanted to shower in Remus’ love until he could feel clean, unashamed, free. If only there was a way Sirius could discharge his rotten insides and make some new ones using bits and pieces of Remus, he would have done so with no hesitation. Sirius wanted Remus inside of him, he wanted to be one, in the most physical way possible. 

By the time Sirius’ heart began beating again, he had already taken the most important decision ever. He wanted Remus in his life, and he was willing to get better for it to happen. Sirius was willing to let even the worst sides of him have a chance in life, just to be allowed to have Remus all for himself. He was willing to live, with all his burdens and pains, because Remus was a good enough reward.

"Do you want to go out later this week? Like, on a date." Sirius’ lips stretched in an almost too wide smile. He could feel the heat on his cheek as his whole face turned red, but he didn’t mind. Sirius didn’t mind showing Remus just how outrageously he liked him.

"Excuse me?" Remus choked on his own words, looking down at Sirius with wide, shocked eyes. 

"Do you want to go on a date with me?" Sirius repeated more seductively this time, turning his head a little to the side.

Remus inhaled snappily, and he still struggled to get the tiniest amount of air in his lungs. "Please, you're joking." He laughed nervously.

"No, I'm not." Sirius pouted innocently, biting his bottom lip.

"Yes, you are."

"I am not." Sirius exhaled, rolling his eyes close to exasperation. "What makes you think that? Have I not made it clear that I find you irresistibly hot?"

Remus’ jaw dropped at the way Sirius was looking at him with so much longing and desire, as if Remus was made of ambrosia. Their gaze met, and they understood each other’s desperate need for love in an instant. Such deep, consuming craving and yearning couldn’t be faked or misguided, it was engulfing and burning and it tied them together desperately.

"What the actual fuck. You're serious." Remus mumbled incredulously.

"Oh, good. You picked up my name. Yes, hi, I'm Sirius ." The supermodel laughed so brightly at his own joke, his face scrunching in the most precious grimace. "Do you want to go on a date or not?" He asked again, tirelessly, his tone becoming more serious, more urgent.

"Sirius, I..." Remus couldn’t speak, he was too lost in Sirius’ beautiful, silver gaze. "Who wouldn't want to go on a date with you?" He stammered, looking at his feet.

"So, is that a yes?" Sirius’ voice became more acute, happier, and it only made Remus’ heart break faster.

"You should ask someone else." Remus gurgled guiltily, shaking his head. "Just take a look around. You could pull anyone, and you can do so much better than me."

"I want you, though." Sirius whined like a spoiled baby about to throw a tantrum. He looked at Remus challengingly, leaning forward until their faces were almost touching. "And I usually always get what I want. If not, I'll cry and wail until I die ."

"You should have higher standards." Remus was on the verge of losing control. Sirius was so impossibly close, and he was just gorgeous when he looked like a territorial puppy trying to claim his property. "I'm really not worth crying yourself to death."

"Believe me, I'd cry myself to death for you right now if you don't stop putting yourself down." Sirius moved even closer, resting his head on Remus’ shoulder and dangerously brushing his lips against the side of his neck. "I really like you, and I was under the impression that you like me back. If so, then why wouldn't we be going on a date?"

Remus indulged in Sirius’ attention for a second, offering more of his neck to be blessed with the model’s perfectly smooth and sensual lips. He tensed up when he realized just how wrong it was, to take advantage of Sirius’ willingness to love, when Remus could offer nothing in return. Sirius deserved the world, and Remus couldn’t even aspire to be a flea next to him. Heartbroken, Remus pushed Sirius away gently, and he sighed.

"We can’t go out because I'm a poor seamster who can barely keep a job, I live in a rundown flat with three other losers, I really struggle with intimacy, I'm an overall mess and I'm ugly as fuck." Remus vomited the words as fast as he could, before they could affect him. He avoided Sirius’ face, so he couldn’t see the soft way the model smiled at him.

"Ugly? You?" Sirius snorted, caressing Remus’ cheeks with his thumbs. "Please, you should see an optician and get some glasses, maybe James can recommend one."

"My face is covered in scars, Sirius. I scare people just by looking at their direction." Remus’ eyes turned dark, filled with sorrow. 

"Oh, I would scare you if I told you how those scars make me feel." Sirius chuckled mischievously. He traced Remus’ scars with his fingers, the gentle pressure turning more passionate and needy the more he touched and explored. Remus tilted his head, allowing Sirius a better angle to reach the end of the longest scar, looking at the model straight in the eyes. Sirius gasped, lost in those welcoming, familiar eyes. "When you look at me like that I feel so warm inside..." 

“Sirius, come on…” Remus groaned, trying to ignore the fire consuming his insides. “Be for real.”

“I mean it, I find them sexy.” Surius pulled back, looking not far from being offended. “I’ve got some scars of my own, but you still told me I am beautiful even after you saw them. How is it any different? I still want to kiss your face until my lips are swollen.”

For a moment, Remus was too stunned to speak. He thought about it deeply, if his scars and Sirius’ were actually any different. Both were a testament of their pain, and consequently of their incessant fight for life; but in Remus’ mind Sirius’ didn’t make him any less beautiful. Maybe it was because Sirius could hide them, and not be defined by them. Sirius could still pretend that the pain never existed as long as he kept his arms covered, but Remus couldn’t. Remus had to literally face his past every time he looked in a mirror, and it disgusted him, it made him want to retch. But then again, Sirius didn’t know what the scars on Remus’ face represented, just as Remus didn’t know the full story behind Sirius’. It was perfectly plausible that Sirius could see the beauty of Remus, without being scared away by the truth. After all, Remus would have found Sirius beautiful even if his face was the one covered in scars. That’s what love usually does to people, and Remus was completely unprepared for the intensity of it. It was too much to handle, too overwhelming, and it wasn’t destined to last. Remus was convinced that Sirius could have never loved him if he truly knew the traumas he was keeping hidden.

Remus bit the insides of his mouth, trying to find the words to explain just how broken he felt. He had to find a way to show Sirius the depth of his fears, before dragging him down as well. But Remus couldn’t speak of it, he couldn’t speak of the darkness of his past just yet. Instead, he tried to convince Sirius to give up by pointing out other much more evidently glaring issues about him, in hopes it would discourage the supermodel from getting any closer.

"I've also got a degenerative form of osteoarthritis. I'm twenty five and I already need a cane to stand. I can’t walk long distances or I'll literally pass out from the pain." Remus faltered. "My cartilage is deteriorating everyday and I'll probably be in a wheelchair before my forties." 

“And so what? Do you think you are unworthy of love because of that?” Sirius caught his breath. “Ok, internalized ableism, I wasn’t expecting it. Add that to the list of flaws.”

“I’m just saying it would be unnecessarily hard to date me, of all people.” Remus rolled his eyes. “You deserve someone of your caliber, who won’t drag you down every second of your life together with his problems.”

"I'm my own cousin." Sirius spat, out of nowhere.

"What?"

"My parents are somewhat related." The supermodel shrugged, his face deadly serious. "If you track down my family tree, you'll find that I am my own third cousin or something like that."

"What the fuck?" Remus didn’t know whether to laugh or start screaming .

"Oh, I thought we were doing a self pity contest, and I’m not about to lose this one." Sirius grinned naughty, a sad hint of defeated resignation leaking through his gritted teeth. "I'm also willing to admit that I am a drug addict, I starve myself as part of my job, I crave rough sex that leaves me aching for days, my parents are abusive and I've attempted once. Or twice. I will probably do it again in the future, if things keep going the way they are. I can’t even assure you my messed up brain can keep me alive long enough to have an actual relationship." Sirius was out of breath by the time he was done spitting hatred onto himself. He searched Remus’ eyes just to find the most sincere, astonished understanding. "Now that we've made a list of the things that make us miserable, do you want to go on a date or not?"

"Wow… Sirius.” Remus couldn’t believe the beautiful madness he just witnessed. Sirius was too incredible to be real; he was out of his mind in the best, most lovely way possible. He was a miracle, a messy, untamable blessing. “You're certainly... something." Remus managed to stutter, his lips searching Sirius’ until they were almost touching.

"Been told that already." Sirius whispered, hanging so close to Remus, but lacking the strength to close the gap just yet.

"Of course. You are everything." Remus was trembling, his lips aching for Sirius. He couldn’t give in, not yet, not so easily, it would definitely be the end of him. He was afraid, crushed under the distant memories of violent skin tearing his desire of love off of him. But he was just so willing, so desperate for a new chance, for Sirius . "What I've told you isn't even half of the worst of me, but you don't want to see reason, uh?"

“You won’t scare me off.” Sirius shook his head, the tip of his nose brushing Remus’. “You could be a big, bad wolf in sheep's clothing and I’d still want to go on a date with you, if you’d give me the honor.”

Remus breathed in Sirius’ wonderful scent, his lungs gladly accepting the relief. "If that's the way it is, then I'm free on Friday." He whispered, his lips lightly touching Sirius’. 

There wasn’t enough pressure applied for it to be a kiss, but they could taste a hint of each other, and that was irresistible enough. Sirius sucked in, trying to fight the magnetic force pulling him forward. He didn’t want to lose control so quickly, he wanted Remus to be a special memory. Sirius was used to tumultuous relationships that burned completely in the blink of an eye, leaving him broken and sad. He wanted to take it as painstakingly slow as possible with Remus, and he wanted to enjoy every second, every inch, every little touch.

"Wonderful, I'm officially free Friday evening, too.” Sirius hummed, his lips curling upwards.

“Sirius!” Walburga’s shriek echoed from the other side of the changing area curtain, and it caused Sirius to immediately jump far away from Remus.  “Hurry up, we’re going home.”

“I’m coming.” Sirius yelled back, steadying his breath. His mother definitely almost gave him a heart attack. He focused on Remus again, though he kept some distance. “You’ve given me a bunch of reasons not to like you, but I’m dying to get to know all the pretty, loving things that make you whole. You’ve got the kindest hands I’ve ever felt, and the softest gaze as well. Just, allow me to fall in love with the gentle, considerate, handsome man you are.”

“Goodness, how can you look at me with a straight face when you’re telling me the most loving words ever?” Remus couldn’t help but smile, shaking his head incredulously as he whispered: “You’re an angel. You’re so beautiful .”

Beautiful . Sirius grew lighter at Remus’ words, like a flower blossoming with the welcoming and warm arrival of spring. Never in his life did he ever feel so uplifted, so reassured by the word beautiful . A word that was supposed to be nice, and comforting, one that many people would love to hear associated with them at least once. But no one could ever get to know the euphoria of being beautiful to Remus’ eyes the way Sirius did. It was a filling, addictive sensation.

Beautiful .

“Why is it that when you call me ‘beautiful’ it feels so different?” Sirius asked erratically, his chest closing in as to keep the feeling of unconditional appreciation buried safely inside his body.

“Because I don’t just see your beauty through my eyes.” Remus’ eyes kissed every inch of Sirius' skin, and they sank deeper.  “You are beautiful, and I feel it… everywhere through my brain, my heart, my body. You are beautiful… ”

And Sirius felt beautiful , for the first time ever.

“I can’t wait for Friday!” Sirius giggled, throwing himself in Remus’ arm. The seamster stumbled back a bit, his weaker hip stiffening, but nevertheless he secured Sirius into a warm embrace. “What did I do to deserve you?” Sirius whispered into Remus’ chest. “It’s going to be the best date ever, I’ll be even more beautiful just for you! I’ll make your jaw drop, I’ll make your heart beat so fast!”

“Even more beautiful than you already are? I don’t think my heart can take it!” Remus smiled into Sirius’ hair. “Beautiful, lovely, thank you for blessing my life with your presence.”

“Sirius! I’m losing my patience!” Walburga screamed again, and this time she sounded much closer.

“I said I’m coming, jeez-” Sirius hissed. He grabbed a discarded eyeliner pen from the makeup section and he began furtively scribbling on Remus’ arm. “Here’s my number.” Sirius chuckled and he kissed Remus’ arm once he was done. “Call me before Friday, so we can organize something nice.”

“ From now till Friday it feels like an eternity. ” Remus hummed, looking at the little numbers adorning his skin as if he was looking at a masterpiece. Everything that regarded Sirius was a masterpiece and Remus was just so, so grateful to have him, for however long he would be allowed to. “I’ll call you.”

Chapter Text

Stuffing four outcasts of society inside a run-down one bedroom, one bathroom flat in the outskirts of Candem Town was a terrible idea. Remus, Barty, and the twins Pandora and Evan were a bunch of miserable weirdos, all obsessed with the fashion industry and art of designing, and they thrived on their terrible ideas. Yet, the three flatmates managed to make it work somehow.

The situation was far from ideal, especially considering that each one of them had their own set of deep rooted issues that inevitably made everyone else’s life just a little bit more difficult; but four losers must do what they can to survive. 

Remus came home the evening of the BLACK runway show to find his friends intensely involved in their usual weird shenanigans. 

Pandora, the genius patternmaker of the house, was spread across the dining table, rolling on top scattered pieces of brown kraft paper. At first she didn’t even notice Remus, too focused on the pattern she was drawing, stretching her limbs to reach the curve of his specialty dressmaker ruler. She tucked a strand of platinum hair behind her ear and her tongue was sticking out. She let out a strained sigh when she finally managed to connect the center back of the pants she was designing to the crotch with a smooth, clean line. Pandora giggled happily, taking a proud look at her completed work. Remus couldn’t help but smile, dropping his house keys on the little shelf next to the front door to make his presence known.

“Remus! You’re back!” Pandora jumped off the table, risking ripping the pattern. She hissed, securing the fragile paper masterpiece. “Ah, Evan wants to sew a new pair of cargo pants for himself and he asked me to make the pattern. But the idiot likes his clothes hugenormous . The measurements he gave me are way too disproportionate! Just the back panel takes up the whole table!” 

To be fair, their table wasn’t even that big. They needed to save space, being four people in a barely 500 square feet mockery of a flat. The dining area was basically non-existent, barely a continuation of their small kitchen, and the living room was converted into an interchangeable, chaotic bedroom hoarded with all kinds of trinkets and mismatched furniture. No one had a fixed bed in the flat, everyone slept where they found enough space by the time they were tired, either in the living room or in the tiny bedroom on the bunk bed. Remus almost always opted for the cozyness and therapeutic stiffness of the sofa bed, which was currently entirely submerged under yards of black denim, which Remus supposed was going to be the fabric of choice for Evan’s cargo pants.

“Ugh, I sure hope he isn’t planning on starting to cut the fabric now.” Remus groaned, crackling his neck. “I’m exhausted and denim shreds like crazy.” 

“Don’t worry, he’s busy right now.” Pandora yelled the word busy with an underlining mocking tone. 

She glared at the bathroom door, and Remus could hear muffled voices and weird metallic noises coming from there. Oh, Evan was definitely busy with Barty. Remus didn’t know if he wanted to ask what was going on or just let himself a moment of blissful peace. 

“My brother will work on this project first thing in the morning, don’t worry, you can sleep in peace.” Pandora then scoffed, folding the heavy fabric out of the way, allowing Remus to collapse on his beloved sofa with a loud thud. “You’ve got to tell me how it went today at the runway show, but first I’m gonna bring the pattern and the fabric downstairs to the studio. Be right back!”

Their studio was nothing more than a small basement area under the building of their flat. It was an unused storage space that someone abandoned who knows how many years before, and the four desperate part-time fashion sickos decided to move their sewing supplies in there in hopes that no one would notice or care too much to complain. Between all four of them they had two sewing machines, one of which was almost twice as old as them and made unbearably loud cracking sounds, one serger, one embroidering machine with a broken display and an ancient industrial sewing machine which occupied a whole wall that didn’t work, but Barty insisted he could have fixed it someday. They had to use an indecent amount of extension cables to make the best of the one singular power socket in the storage space, and they had to take turns using the machines so as to not make the whole electric system explode, which definitely almost happened a couple of times. Aside from their machines, they had several shelves and chests filled with fabrics, an infinite collection of threads, a bunch of rulers and rolls of crafting paper and way too many studs, patches and eyelets, which were Evan and Barty’s favorite. The whole place was a mess, and, again, it wasn’t ideal, but the four of them managed to make it work.

Remus wasn’t exactly content with his living situation, but he was decently alright with it. As long as he had a roof over his head, cozy jumpers to change into and a stiff sofa to crack his joints in just the right spots, he was going to be alright. Being a loner, a solitary soul who tended to enjoy loneliness, having to live in such a small place constantly surrounded by the chaos and mess of three other batshit crazy flatmates was difficult. He still loved his friends a lot, and he was grateful to have them around, but the rare moments when they left him alone on the sofa even for just a couple of minutes were his favorites .

Pandora went downstairs, and Evan and Barty were confabulating in the bathroom, which gave Remus a moment of well deserved relaxation after one of the most stressful days of his life. He took advantage of the peace to save Sirius’ number on his phone. The feeling of Sirius’ lips kissing his arm was still vividly engraved in Remus’ mind, and he squirmed deeper into the sofa excitedly. He should have been embarrassed of himself for saving Sirius as ‘Sirius♥️’ with a silly heart, as if he was an inexperienced teenager. In his defense, Remus was truly inexperienced, even though he wasn’t a teenager. He didn’t know if that was a good time to call Sirius, as it was late and the model had been through a lot that day already, so Remus decided to write him a message instead.

It didn’t even take a minute for Sirius to respond, which only fueled Remus’ excitement even more, considering how busy a supermodel must be after a runway show.

Remus sent the location of his flat and he couldn’t help but smile at the screen, at the cute, little hearts that Sirius was adding to every message. He was just so euphoric, feeling all those unprecedented fluttering sensations turning his body, mind and heart into scrambles. Everything was new and beautifully overwhelming. Maybe falling in love at first sight for the very first time at the age of twenty five was a little pathetic, but Remus felt so good he just couldn’t care less. He was aching to see Sirius again, physically vibrating and heating up at the mere thought of him as if he was experiencing actual withdrawal symptoms. Sirius was absolutely addicting, he was imprinted in the forefront of Remus’ mind.

Remus sunk deeper into the sofa, curled up on himself all happily humming. He was about to roll a cigarette when an ear piercing scream erupted from the bathroom. Remus immediately jumped off the sofa, almost dislocating the hip with the least cartilage in the process, and he ran frantically to see what the heck was going on, his face all flushed in urgency.

“Is everything alright?!” Remus gasped as he bursted the bathroom door open.

He found Barty and Evan entangled on the floor, covered in a worrying amount of blood. Evan was laying on his back, his scrunched up face was red as a tomato, and his eyes were filled with unshed tears. Barty was on top of him, holding a bloodied needle in his hand, looking more annoyed than anything.

“Yeah, everything is ticketty-fucking-boo.” Barty growled, looking down at Evan with a manically wide grin. “Rosier is just being a sissy, he can’t take a little bit of pain.” 

“You fucking hurt me on purpose, you fucking twat-” Evan’s lower lip was swollen and quickly turning a purple around the area where he was bleeding profusely. He gritted his teeth, dense crimson contrasting strikingly against white. “Put the fucking ring inside.” He hissed a few inches from Barty’s face.

“Someone’s impatient to be penetrated.” Barty exploded in a deranged laugh, unceremoniously pushing a metallic ring inside the still bleeding hole, basically showing his hands inside Evan’s mouth to get the closure secured. 

Evan made obscene, miserable noises, moaning under Barty’s uncaring touch as they completed their improvised diy piercing session. Barty’s fingers were coated in blood, and so was Evan’s chin and neck, but the two weirdos didn’t seem to be too bothered by it. Evan’s pained grimace turned into a sickly satisfied one as he bit the metal ring. Remus was beyond horrified, frozen in place with a hilariously dramatic grimace on his face.

“Did you just give Evan a labret piercing on our goddamned bathroom floor?” Remus howled, utterly disgusted. The sight of blood was driving him absolutely insane and he shut his eyes, trying not to retch.

“We’ll clean it up, don’t you even worry, Lupin boy.” Barty tilted his head, neon green bangs falling over the side of his sharp face as he gave Remus a mockingly pitiful look. He then turned back to Evan with a hungry, mad look in his eyes. “I wasn’t expecting Rosier to be so fragile and bleed this much.”

“You enjoyed every bit of it, bloody fucking bastard.” Evan pulled Barty in a messy, chaotic, filthy open-mouthed kiss. 

Remus could feel bile rise up his throat at the utterly macabre scene. A distinctive clang could be heard as both Evan’s and Barty’s teeth hit the freshly inserted metal ring, blood flowing between the two like in the worst gothic horror movie two punks like them could think of. They were shamelessly sprawled on the floor, eating each other, from the inside out, and Remus regretted ever even considering building himself a life with them.

“This fucking ring hurts my teeth.” Evan rolled his tongue around the metal jewelry, and the open wound, and he sneered. If he was in pain, then it looked like he was enjoying the feeling way too much.

“I have to vomit, what the fuck did I do wrong to deserve this-” Remus was literally clenching his stomach, trying not to process the intense and stinging smell of blood and antiseptic filling the bathroom. He made the mental decision to hold his bladder for the next few days at least, or until he was about to explode; the room was going to be off limits for him.

“Blimey, you boys are mental !” Pandora shrieked, but she sounded way too amused for Remus’ likings. “Stop snogging my brother, Barty! And let’s go get some ice on that lip, it looks wasted.” She physically separated the two, dragging Evan across the flat and into the kitchen, which wasn’t a long walk to be fair.

Barty stayed behind, the maniac grin in his face never bulging. He picked himself up with a dramatic moan, hands clenching the bathroom sink and leaving crimson fingerprints everywhere. He licked off the blood staining his lips with an audible slurp . The chains and studs on his handmade outfit made noises with each movement, making Barty constantly annoying and chaotic to be around. He thrived in the feeling, genuinely getting his will to live from being as obnoxious as possible. Barty wasn’t a bad person per se, he was actually a pretty good friend whom Remus loved eighty percent of the time. But in that moment, with Barty covered in blood and looking like a hungry psychopath, Remus might have hated him. 

“Are you going to help me clean up, or not?” Barty snarled frenziedly, shooting a provocative glance at Remus.

“Absolutely fucking not.” Remus snapped. “I won’t touch your boyfriend’s blood even if you pay me billions.”

“Then stand there like a sissy.” Barty shrugged and he washed his hand. 

He scrubbed the blood from his fingers with disgustingly meticulous and ritualistic knowledge, masterfully reaching under his long, neon painted nails as if he had done so hundred of times. Considering how many badly healed piercings Barty had all over his body, from his face and ears, to his belly button, it was clear that he was an expert of cleaning post messy skin stabbing. Barty was the same person who gave himself an infection by tattooing his own wrist with china ink the same week they had first moved in together, so Remus wasn't really too surprised after all.

“Watch it, Crouch.” Remus’ fingers clenched around his cane until his knuckles turned white. He raised it menacingly, swinging it right above Barty’s head. “I’ve got no problem beating you to death right now.”

“Hey-! Don’t kill my soulmate!” Evan warned, but the swelling on his lip made it difficult for him to speak, so he sounded ridiculous. Pandora was pressing an ice back on her brother’s face, even though he tried to squirm away from it.

“Pandora and I should kill you both-” Remus exhaled, only gaining an amused chuckle from all three of his flatmates. He was going insane, he never wanted to still live with his father more than he did at that moment. “I just had one of the most chaotic days of my damned life and you won’t grant me a single moment of rest.”

“So, it went badly?” Pandora asked with a little pout, which strangely matched the absolutely whipped look on her twin brother’s gaunt face.

“I’m sorry, mate.” Evan sighed, looking at Remus as if he was the absolute king of losers.

“It didn’t exactly go badly, I guess.” Remus scratched the back of his nape and cracked the sore vertebrae of his neck. “I was fired, which is a bummer. But I’ve got a date, on Friday.”

“A date?” Barty gasped, drying his hand with a now irreparably stained, patchy towel. “What? Our Loony Lupin is finally getting laid!” He exclaimed and he lightly punched Remus’ shoulder.

To say that he hated the nickname was an understatement, no matter if his flatmates didn’t have mean intentions in calling him like that. “Don’t call me that, Bartemius .” Remus shook his head, groaning and using Barty’s full name in retaliation. 

“Who’s the lucky one?” Pandora hummed gently. “For the longest time I thought you were asexual, aromantic or something, you never look at anyone that way. Is it a man or a woman?” She tugged Remus’ loose sleeve curiously.

“It better be a man, I won’t let my sister sleep under the same roof, on the same fucking couch as you if I find out you were straight this whole time.” Evan scoffed, half joking, half genuinely threatening.

“It’s a dude, don’t worry.” Remus rolled his eyes, a little smirk appearing on his lips. He casually leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom, playing with the hilt of his cane. “You may even have heard of him somewhere… A certain Sirius Black.”

The looks of utter shook in his flatmates was priceless, and Remus couldn’t help a mischievous chuckle. Evan and Pandora gasped in unison, their jaws dropping comically. Barty threw his hands up in the air, running in circles in the small bathroom, almost hitting both the sink and the toilet a couple of times.

“What the actual FUCK !” Barty yelled so loudly he could have very well woken up everyone in Camden Town, up to King’s Cross. “Super-fucking-model Sirius Black?!”

“Sirius fucking Black, yes.” Remus shook his head as if he, too, still couldn’t believe it. Logically, a wreck of a failed man like him had a one chance in a billion of even stumbling across someone of the same caliber as Sirius Black, let alone talk to him or, even more impossibly, date him. Yet, all the stars aligned in the perfect order for it to happen, and Remus was just so grateful to the universe. “I don’t know how I did it, or if I even deserve it, but he wants me and I want him so badly.”

“Of course you deserve it! You deserve the world, you silly.” Pandora gave Remus a soft, friendly smile, booping his nose.

“I can’t believe you pulled the Sirius Black, mate!” Barty grinned, proudly slapping a hand on the sink. He then looked at Remus up and down, his sharp, blood-shot eyes scrutinizing his friend. “What are you going to wear on your date?”

“What?” Remus looked down at his clothes, confused. “Uhm… the usual?”

“You can’t go on a date with super-fucking-model Sirius goddam Black wearing one of your grandpa jumpers.” Evan wailed exasperated. “Barty, my absolute love , we need to design a cool outfit for our Lupin.”

“I’d rather look like myself on my first date ever, thanks.” Remus took a hesitant step back, trying to make himself small in his own oversized, comfy clothes. Barty, though, was quick to slide an arm around Remus’ shoulders, shaking him mindlessly.

“Bullshit, we’ll make you look like the upgraded version of your usual goody-goody self.” Barty barked, squeezing Remus. “Don’t you trust us?” He asked almost too innocently, and if his patchy clothes weren’t still stained with fresh blood.

“Not really-” Remus whispered under his breath, looking distrustfully at the amount of chains, studs, patches and pins hanging from both Barty and Evan’s flashy outfits. The two of them looked cool, indeed, but the style definitely didn’t reflect Remus at all.

“Come on, it will be fun!” Evan sang, sharing a knowing, mischievous look with Pandora. “Operation Date: begin.” The two twins said in unison.

☆☆☆

Regulus was drowning his frustrations onto paper.

Walburga and Orion decided it would have been a great idea to start a whole new ad campaign for the new BLACK perfume line right after the end of London Fashion Week, not even giving their sons half a day of rest. As a consequence both Regulus and Sirius were on the edge, nervous beyond relief and absolutely exhausted.

Their parent’s punishment for Sirius after fashion week was borderline inhuman. He was put on an unforgivingly consuming diet, and he was constantly under strict control to make sure he didn’t touch any substance. As a consequence, Sirius was even more impossibly nervous and annoying than usual, causing unnecessary scenes whenever someone did as much as breathe wrong in his direction. Regulus couldn’t really blame his brother for acting up after being basically forced to live out of nothing but fried air and a bottle of water, but it could still be overwhelming to deal with him.

So, Regulus was frustrated, and he drowned said frustration onto paper. He was sitting in a corner of James’ photography studio with his sketchbook tightly clenched in his hands, waiting for Sirius to finish getting ready for the shooting. His head throbbed, a consequence of his unhealthy lack of sleep, and with each painful throb Regulus traced a new angry line onto the page. Drawing was the only way he could healthily cope with the troubles of his soul without hurting himself or others. His charcoal pencil almost snapped in his hand as he pressed it onto the paper with all his might, transporting his screaming thoughts to reality. Regulus’ suppressed fears, anger and distress took the form of a tall, dark figure, dressed in spiky, geometrical leather clothes that almost swallowed it alive. His parents always found Regulus’ angrily aggressive designs to be too macabre, too vomitous, too distressing. And the thing was that Regulus couldn’t even blame them. The clothes he drew were supposed to feel macabre, vomitous, distressing, suffocating; his designs were the unfiltered projection of his dark feelings, and they were meant to be uncomfortable to look at. Regulus wanted to cause the viewer a little suffering through his art, he wanted the world to feel just a portion of his own inner misery.

One stroke after the other, and a new design was born. Then another, in a matter of minutes. Regulus’ feelings were flowing freely, flooding the pages with so much black . The side of Regulus’ left hand was completely stained with graphite powder, leaving streaks all over the paper, but he didn’t care. It was part of the process, part of the anger, of his dirty unhappiness. He smudged the hem of one of the designs and he grinded his teeth, watching the wretched result of his madness with freeing satisfaction.

“You’re left-handed, I never noticed that.” James spoke brightly, camera already in his hand as always. He leaned over Regulus’ shoulder to look over at his sketchbook. “Whatcha doing?” The sun charms hanging from James’ glasses brushed the fabric of Regulus’ jacket. 

“What do you think I’m doing, Potter?” Regulus exhaled, annoyed. He rolled his eyes, showing the photographer the designs he sketched so far. “Vomiting feelings onto paper. Drawing, or whatever you want to call it.” 

“They’re beautiful, Reggie.” James whistled in awe, tilting his head as he admired the beauty of the designer’s works. He was particularly drawn to the rough, gut-wrenchingly desperate, sometimes even thoughtfully crooked slashes of pencil, each one felt like a cut to his own heart. “Your style is strikingly powerful.”

“As if you knew anything about artistic style.” Regulus swallowed hard, shaking his head. “And don’t call me Reggie .” He growled harshly.

“I’m a photographer, Regulus , I think I know something about artistic style.” James emphasized Regulus’ name condescendingly, friendly mocking the designer’s slight French accent. Regulus opened his mouth, clearly wanting to protest, but James shushed him with a gentle gesture. “And before you tell me that it’s not the same thing, let me show you something.”

James excused himself for a second, and he came back with a couple of photo binders that he proudly handed to Regulus. They were clearly pretty personal albums, ones that James must have revisited a lot, considering the slight damage across the pages. Regulus took a look diffidently, a grimace already forming on his face. But what he found left him decently surprised. Dozens of dark photos were scattered across the pages, telling the untold story of James Potter as a photographer. Most photos were taken backstage during professional photoshoots, capturing little random moments of mundanity that Regulus empathized with on a deep, intimate level. The pictures were all either under exposed, or burned out, some were unfocused, and in others the subject was captured in the worst angles possible. Regulus could recognize many of the people portrayed in the photos: there were many pictures of Peter and some others assistants that helped James every now and then, there were pictures of Sirius looking his absolute worse, pictures of Lily, of Walburga and Orion of all people… there were also some pictures of Regulus himself.

Regulus hesitated, his fingers gently brushing the outline of one photo of himself in particular. He was portrayed being his usual, timid self, sitting in the corner of a studio with a sketchbook in his hand, just like he was in that very moment. The photo was slightly out of focus, with a huge flare in the left corner, yet it was just… beautifully real. Regulus gasped, realizing he had been holding his breath the whole time he was scrolling through one of the albums. James offered him a gentle, satisfied smile, as if he was waiting for Regulus to compliment his beloved art.

“These photos look terrible.” Regulus clenched his jaw, trying to sound genuinely disappointed, but he couldn’t conceal the underlying hint of admiration.

“I know, the magazine I usually work for would never let me publish any of these.” James shrugged, his smile never fading. “But I love them nonetheless. This one of you in particular-” James scrolled a few pages forward, pointing at a photo of Regulus. “This one is my favorite.”

It was a very similar photo to the one Regulus had focused on just a few moments earlier, except it was even more impossibly raw. James had taken this other picture from up close, highlighting the little tense lines across Regulus’ face as he focused on one of his drawings. At the time Regulus must have been so fixated on his work that he hadn’t noticed James basically shoving a camera at his face, which only made the photo look more real. It was a fragment of time, stolen and printed on laminated paper. It didn’t exactly compliment Regulus’ beauty, but it was the most faithful portrayal of himself he had ever seen.

“James, this photo is beaut-” Regulus breathed in sharply as he realized that he called the photographer James instead of Potter : a grave, big mistake. And James picked up the change immediately, leaning closer with a far too friendly, far too confident smile. Regulus mentally whipped himself for the slack, and he immediately hissed: “I look ugly in this photo, Potter . Terrible, horrible.”

“No, come on, keep going. What you were saying?” James teased the designer, only gaining a frustrated groan. “You look gorgeous, by the way. I don’t think it’s possible to catch you being ugly even if I actually tried.”

“Potter, if you don’t stop saying stupid shit right now-” 

“We have pretty similar artistic styles, don’t you think?” James’ tone shifted a little, turning more serious, low, intimate. “Raw and rough. This is the real me, I guess. This is the James that resonates with your drawings.”

Regulus avoided James’ gaze, or he feared that the warmth in it would be the death of him. Instead he focused back on the photo albums, discovering the hidden sides of James one piece at a time. There was a nice photo of Sirius and Regulus talking to each other near the makeup station. Mary had just put powder on Sirius’ face, so it looked comically white through James’ lens, as if he was a clown. Regulus couldn’t help but chuckle, feeling transported back to that chill, mundane moment. It was as if he could crawl into the photo and blow the excess powder off of his brother’s dumb face. In the next page there was a photo of Walburga rolling her eyes dramatically, and right next to it there was one from a similar angle of Regulus rolling his eyes in the exact same way. Having the photos side to side made Regulus realize just how similar he looked to his mother, but also how fundamentally different they were in all their little discrepancies. It was disheartening and comforting at the same time. 

“I see your point, Potter.” Regulus admitted, looking away, still desperately avoiding James’ hazel eyes. “You have a way with emotions. You like your feelings fresh and exposed.”

“I’ve been rooting for you ever since I saw a drawing of yours for the first time.” James whispered, so soft and gentle. “I really wish I could photograph your designs one day. Sooner than later.” He shook his head to make the sun charms dangle, to lighten the mood a little.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but I wish the same.” Regulus breathed out, finding himself daydreaming like a hopeful child. Regulus wondered how his designs would look through James’ eyes, in a universe where he wasn’t such a spineless slave to his own parents. He wondered if James would be able to understand his anger and give it justice. “Listen, Ja-”

“Hiya, sluts.” Sirius chanted obnoxiously, before Regulus could finish what he was about to say. The supermodel made a turn, his long hair flowing and twirling as if he was some sort of magical creature. “What do you think? I’m on fire today!” Sirius fluttered his eyelids, showing off the bold smoky eye that Mary did on him.

James’ smile widened astronomically when he saw Sirius, his eyes sparkling so brightly they could outshine the sun. It was as if he had forgotten about Regulus in an instant, and Regulus couldn’t even blame him for it. Whenever Sirius was around, he made Regulus disappear without even trying. It was ok, because Sirius was the universe, and Regulus loved him more than anyone ever could.

“Here he is, the fairest of them all.” James gave Sirius a careful sideways hug, trying not to mess up his styling. “If you’re all set, then let’s go make the hottest photoshoot the world has ever seen!”

And off they went, arm in arm, James and Sirius. Sirius and James. Always together, inseparable, always thriving in each other’s presence. The brightest stars in the sky, shining above everyone else, oblivious to the world below. Regulus couldn’t help the oppressing feeling crushing his lungs. He could only stare from afar, be blessed by their warmth just enough to feel alive, but nothing more, or else he could get burned. Regulus was destined to love from a distance, and it was ok, because James and Sirius were the universe.

☆☆☆

Sirius was wearing a simple pair of tight black pants and a slightly sheer black shirt, both designed by his father, who was the one in charge of their perfume line. Orion’s collections were much less lavish compared to Walburga’s, but he definitely leaned into showing off and exploiting Sirius’ physical assets just as much as her. The shirt only had one button right above the hem, leaving it to flow completely open in the front. Sirius was uncomfortable, having to constantly adjust the fabric so that his nipples wouldn’t pop out. The pants were just as uncomfortable; they were too tight, especially around his hips, the crotch seam squeezing his private areas uncomfortably and sliding up his buttcheeks in a way that normally would have made Sirius consider homicide. 

But that day Sirius was feeling particularly well. His mood was weirdly positive and he certainly wasn’t going to ruin one of his own rare moments of joy by throwing a fit over terrible wardrobe decisions.

It was a miracle of some sorts, having met someone like Remus: someone who could make Sirius happy just by simply existing. Remus filled a good portion of Sirius’ thoughts, turning his usually aching mind into a haven of love and excitement. 

Posing for the cameras was so much easier when Sirius was relaxed. He could wrap his body around his happier feelings and create shapes that he rarely managed to achieve when all his muscles were aching in sorrow. Even the people around him seemed to react positively when Sirius was in a good mood, which only made him feel even better. James was even more enthusiastic than usual, which was certainly saying something. The photographer kept encouraging Sirius in bold directions, complimenting him with each pose. James couldn’t stop making happy, satisfied sounds every time he checked the previews of his works. Peter, too, did his job masterfully, taking care of the lights and accommodating both Sirius and James in all their needs. It was a well known fact that Peter was an excellent assistant, and that he was an essential asset in James’ photography; that day, though, he gave his best, influenced by everyone’s willingness to create.

“You were on fire today, truly!” James cheered as they wrapped the shooting, gleefully slipping the camera strap off his neck. He brushed his thumbs on the screen, zooming in on the details of Sirius’ glowing face. “You look especially radiant today… is there something on your mind?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary, really.” Sirius lied, and he did nothing to hide it. He grinned mischievously, biting his lower lip to make James aware of the fact that there was indeed something on his mind, something beautiful .

“Come on, I know that face.” James teased, nudging Sirius. “Tell me, don’t keep me hanging like an idiot.” 

“ Under love’s heavy burden do I sink. ” Sirius quoted theatrically with a hand to his chest. He sighed, staring at the ceiling with a goofy, lovesick smile on his face.

“You are in love?” Peter sneaked into the conversation. He tilted his head, staring up and down at Sirius with a hint of confusion and disbelief. “Sorry, no judgment but… I find it hard to believe.” His lips were curled in something that Sirius recognized as a friendly smile. Still, it rubbed the supermodel the wrong way.

“Well, believe it or not, I am in love.” SIrius spat a little too aggressively, his smile turning into a pout. “ Madly in love.”

“Oh he is maaadly in love, Peter.” James let out an amused chuckle, still focusing on the pictures he took. “Don’t mess with the dog.”

“If I knew you were going to make fun of me I would have kept my mouth shut.” Sirius rolled his eyes, growling. As if he could ever keep a secret from James, even if he tried. “You’re a terrible friend. You’re mean.”

“You wound me…” James whined naughtily. “Tell me who’s the unlucky one. I have my suspicions, but I want you to tell me.”

“Do you remember the cute seamster at the runway show? The tall one, with the warmest smile and the kindest eyes?” 

“I knew it!” James clapped his hands excitedly. “I knew it, you two were being so weird. Remus, if I remember correctly?” He asked exuberantly, still too eager to support his friend like he always did. A second later, though, his smile fell a little as he did the math in his head. “Haven’t you met the guy like… two days ago?”

“Yeah, so what.” Sirius snapped, clenching his jaw defensively. “It doesn’t matter. He’s the one, my soulmate, and I love him so much. There’s no point in waiting. We’re going on a date on Friday, and if I play my cards well we’ll get married before the end of the month.”

James didn’t know whether to laugh or hit Sirius in the head with a chair. Sirius always spoke with big, exaggerated words, but the thing was that most of the time he genuinely meant the dumb shit he said. James found his friend’s exuberance and willing naiveness amusing, but sometimes he wanted to ground Sirius back to reality before his reckless fantasies could do him harm.

“Slow down, pretty boy.” James scoffed, his gaze softening as he saw the determination in his best friend’s eyes. “Slow and steady wins the race. Don’t rush things, if you don’t want to get hurt. It’s not as if he’s going to run away, if he loves you as much as you love him.”

“I don’t want him to think too much about it.” Sirius sighed. “I fear that if he gets to know me too in depth, he’ll stop loving me sooner than later.”

“So, do you want to trap him with you before he can think about it twice?” Peter asked with a hint of worry as he finished packing James’ spare camera lenses. He wasn’t exactly judging Sirius’ poor choices in life, at least not in a mean way. He sounded more concerned than anything.

“I know it sounds bad.” Sirius groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. He breathed out heavily, succumbing under the weight of his own self doubt. “But I know I want him. I need him. If he ditches me I don’t know how I will survive.”

“You’re being paranoid.” James shrugged. Things were alway too easy when it came to James, he approached each day with as few worries as he could, it was as if he couldn’t conceive any nuances in the world. Deep down, he pitied Sirius for not being able to enjoy life as it is. “Don’t worry too much ahead of time. You’re much better than you think. Remus would be a fool to ditch you.”

“I agree with James.” Peter gave Sirius a friendly, supportive little smile. “You’re a world famous supermodel, and an overall nice person. You tend to exaggerate your inner flaws, but trust me when I say… the people who look at you from the outside only see an impossibly perfect man.” 

Sirius didn’t just exaggerate his own flaws, Sirius couldn’t see anything but his own flaws. At all. “You guys are messing with me.” He whined, lips curling downwards.

“Not at all.” James gave his friend a careful side hug. “So, where are you going on a date?”

“I don’t know yet.” Sirius scrolled his shoulders, pensively. “He agreed on dinner. I don’t know where, though. We’ll probably decide on the spot. I want to take him around the city on my bike first. It will make me look cooler, more marriage material.”

“You’re incorrigible.” James chuckled softly, shaking his head.

“James…” Sirius murmured all of a sudden, his chest heavy. “Nobody needs to know. Not even Regulus, ok?” Sirius bit the insides of his mouth, his tone turning colder and more serious. He felt as guilty as a criminal for even thinking about excluding his baby brother from his life, though if it was just for that one time. “He worries too much about me, it’s taking a toll on his sleeping schedule. If things go well, I’ll tell him in due time.”

James looked hesitant at first, but he understood Sirius’ reasonings. Regulus was visibly exhausted, had been for weeks, and James couldn’t ignore it. The dark circles under Regulus’ labradorite eyes didn’t really suit his angelic beauty. 

“I'll cover your ass for a while.” James agreed with a complicit wink. “But promise me you won’t shut me down, you'll keep me updated. I want to know every detail of your little secret or not-so-secret affair.”

☆☆☆

Friday evening couldn’t have come soon enough. 

Remus had never felt so many happy emotions all at once, for days on end. Anticipation was taking his breath away, excitement was clogging his insides, and overall his body was so overwhelmed he didn’t know how he managed to keep going the whole week without collapsing even once. The thought of Sirius was what propelled Remus to keep fighting with his own unknown feelings; but really, Friday even couldn’t have possibly come sooner.

When the day rolled around, though, it was pure panic. Not the kind of warm, curious little nervousness that kept his heart beating a little too fast the whole week. Not the kind of flickering agitation that made him daydream of Sirius for hours. No, by Friday afternoon Remus was full on hysteric. Like, the biting his nails until he had no choice but to chew his cuticles as well kind of hysteric. Going on a date with a gorgeous supermodel that was way out of his league was a bad enough source of distress for Remus, and it certainly didn’t help that his flatmates were pestering him with their weird shenanigans.

“What do you think?” Barty clicked his pierced tongue with a metallic clang when he was done fixing Remus’ hair with an indecent amount of gel. “Admit that you've never looked cooler.”

Remus looked at himself in the mirror disheartened. He admittedly looked a little better than usual, but to someone who didn’t have an ounce of self-esteem in his brain it wasn’t saying much. Evan and Barty truly went out of their way to design and sew him a proper first date outfit, except the result didn’t exactly scream ‘fairytale love at first sight’ but rather ‘ let’s fuck on our first dinner toghether’ , and Remus definitely wasn’t planning on doing that. The distinctive punk influence of the two upcoming designers was present in every piece of the outfit, even though they toned it down a bit to match Remus’ more simple aesthetic. They made him a pair of brown flannel pants, which they ripped and distressed on the knees and hems as if they were jeans. There were two chains hanging from one of two the more classical faux-leather belts that Evan and Barty layered on Remus’ hips, giving the pants an even cooler edge. The three of them agreed on Remus wearing his favorite Ziggy Stardust t-shirt underneath a double layered vest and distressed brown blazer. The weirdly angular lapel of the blazer was adorned with tons of band pins, which Remus was glad enough to notice were bands and singers that he actually liked. Bowie, Queen, Elton John, Busted, Coldplay, and others that actually represented him as a person through his music taste. To top it all off, Barty insisted on slicking Remus’ wavy hair back, leaving just a couple of well defined strands on his forehead to frame his scarred, sharp face. Reamus was wearing his favorite pair of dark brown combat boots which he rarely took out of the shoe rack because they made his joints hurt too much, but he was willing to take some pain to look good on a special occasion.

“I look like an idiot.” Remus scoffed, feeling a little outside of his element, a little too cool for his own good. He was used to dressing down, making himself look as less flashy as possible, trying to disappear in crowds in hope that people wouldn’t notice his scars or his lanky walk. But he was looking rather interesting that evening, which made him feel good and worried at the same time.

“At least you don't look like a grandpa, you're welcome.” Evan rolled his eyes, arms crossed in an annoyed stance.

“I think you look nice.” Pandora offered Remus a genuinely amused smile. “Knowing these two, they could have done much worse.”

“Hey!” Barty inhaled sharply. “We're not trying to sabotage you, fuckass, we want you to get laid once and for all.” He protested, fixing the chains hanging from Remus’ belts.

“You scream sex right now.” Evan smirked, looking at Remus up and down. “Honestly, if your supermodel boyfriend won't fuck you tonight, you're welcome to join us-”

“Shut the fuck up, Evan!” Pandora hissed, hitting her twin brother in the back of his head. “I don't want to hear it!”

“I would never sleep with you two.” Remus gritted his teeth, forcing his brain to dissipate even the slightest thought about the horrifying possibility of finding himself in the same bed as his friends.

It was much that he didn’t want to sleep with Evan and Barty per se, they were both hot and Remus trusted them more than he should have. He just didn’t want to think about sex at all, with anyone. Only Sirius managed to stir something positive inside Remus in that sense, but still, it was a taboo, uncomfortable topic. 

“We made a whole outfit for you and that's how you thank us.” Barty grimaced, shoving Remus’s shoulder friendly. “Take it off, then.”

“Can I?” Remus asked ironically.

“No!” Both Evan and Barty groaned 

Remus’ phone buzzed right at that moment, and everyone immediately tensed up in anticipation. With his heart beating like a drum, Remus checked the notifications to see one new message from ‘Sirius♥️’ and he immediately sucked up a strained breath of excitement.

“Is that your boyfriend?” Pandora asked, trying to catch a glimpse of Remus’ phone screen.

“Barely my date, Panda.” Remus nodded, biting his bottom lip. “Yes, it's him… he's waiting outside.” He was basically shaking with excitement, his muscles were all tense to the point it hurt his fragile joints.

“What are you waiting for, then? Go go go!” Pandora giggled as she tried to push Remus out of the front door.

“I can't- fuck , I'm so nervous-” Remus’ body was stuck, his brain just wouldn’t collaborate properly. Despite how much he wanted to see Sirius, how much he wanted to sprint out of the house and throw himself in the supermodel’s arms, his legs weren’t moving.

“Don't be such a baby, ugh.” Barty pushed him unceremoniously, basically throwing him out of the flat with a menacing chuckle. “Go screw the rich, hot lad.”

“And slid this in his pocket or something.” Evan handed Remus a handwritten business card with his and Barty’s shared instagram page, where they posted all their designs and projects. “Tell him who made the outfit you're wearing, since he’ll come in his pants the moment he sees you in it!”

All of a sudden, Remus’ legs began moving again, desperate to get him away from his lousy, annoying flatmates. He sucked in a bitter lump at Evan’s words, feeling the pressure of impossible expectations and terrifying possibilities weighing down on him. But when he got out of the building and saw Sirius, all his fears were forgotten in an instant.

Chapter Text

Sirius wanted to look beautiful for his first date with Remus. If there was one person in the entire universe that deserved his undisclosed beauty, that was the gentle seamster with the most careful hands ever.

That’s why Sirius wasn’t wearing any make up. No concealer to cover the little red spots that randomly appeared on his sensitive skins during particularly busy and stressful weeks of work, no foundation to make his skin look smoother than it actually was. Just plain, unconcealed flawed beauty . Sirius felt so confident, so comfortable in himself, and it was a feeling that he would gladly only reserve for his dearest date.

He kept the visor of his helmet open as he sprinted across the city center on board of his dearest, most beloved, forever cherished Harley-Davidson. Cold air hit his face every time he turned his wrist on the accelerator, making him tear up a little, but he loved the feeling more than anything in his life. Not having to worry about his mascara and eyeliner getting smudged was just priceless, and he knew Remus would actually love to see a happier, clean version of the legendary Sirius Black.

Sirius managed to convince his family to let him have an evening off all for himself, and he could barely remember the dumb excuse he used, but he didn’t care as long as no one would bother him until the morning. The date was supposed to be at seven, still Sirius left home around four. He wandered around town aimlessly for three straight hours, simply enjoying the taste of freedom as much as he could. When he drove his bike Sirius felt as alive as ever, that were the only moments he could breathe without his lungs aching. It was liberating, and Sirius needed some well deserved liberation every once in a while.

But as good wandering without a single thought felt, the date couldn’t start soon enough. Sirius smiled to himself, and he couldn’t keep Remus off his mind every time he had to stop at a red traffic light. When Sirius finally pulled into Camden Town, he was pleasantly surprised by how punk that part of London looked. Walburga and Orion were such overbearing parents that they never let their sons visit areas of the city they deemed unbefitting. Sirius had developed a desire for the unknown ever since he was a child, but it was hard doing all the exploring by himself. Having been raised in a golden cage all his life Sirius had never known how to surpass the borders he had involuntarily traced around him, he hardly knew where his golden cage ended and the real world began. Camden Town was exactly the kind of place his parents wouldn’t want Sirius to be, and he loved every little colorful corner of it. 

Remus’ building wasn’t exactly pretty looking, but Sirius still found it nice, and he may or may not have wondered how it would be like to run away from home and go live with his lover in there for the rest of his life. Sirius giggled to himself, taking off his helmet as he parked his bike on the side of the road. He pulled his long hair out of his leather biker jacket, scrolling his head trying to give his curls some shape and volume after having flattened them for three hours under the helmet. Sirius managed to make himself look presentable, no, beautiful , checking himself through the bike rearview mirrors. When he was satisfied with his looks, he wrote his ‘Handsome Remus😍’ a message to let him know he was outside.

Sirius waited a couple of minutes, tapping the handlebars of the bike with anxious excitement. Remus walked out of the building just a few minutes later and Sirius wasn’t at all prepared for the incredible sight he was blessed with. Remus was all dressed up for the occasion, wearing distressed, uniquely rebellious clothes that Sirius couldn’t really associate with his oh-too-sweet seamster who had hands too gentle to ruin anything, especially fabric. Sirius noticed that Remus was also wearing a thin layer of black eyeliner pencil in his lower lid, which made his eyes look even deeper and tempting. Sirius couldn’t help but gasp.

“You look… well, different!” Sirius fumbled his words, trying to catch his breath, his eyes never leaving the gorgeous creature in front of him.

“I look like an idiot, I know.” Remus scoffed, lowering his gaze. He, too, was mesmerized by Sirius’ beauty to the point that he found it hard to speak without blabbering like a child.

“I think you look cool. I don’t believe you can look like an idiot even if you actually tried.” Sirius tilted his head to the side, smiling that mischievously genuine smile of his.  “Now I feel like I’m dressed down.”

“Not at all, I’m the one dressed weirdly. My flatmates got a little too excited for my first date ever.” He leaned onto his cane, easing his left ankle which was already struggling with the uncomfortable combat boots. He slid his other hands in his pocket, assuming an awkwardly timid posture. 

“I appreciate that they made you try something new for our first date. But can I have my cozy Remus back for our second?” He asked with a mocking sense of innocence. Sirius did find Remus extremely hot in the oversized, soft jumper he was wearing during Fashion Week.

“You already decided that there’s going to be more dates. What if I bore you and you don’t want to see me ever again?” Remus’ lips twitched into a soft grin.

“I promise, you won’t bore me. I already told James we’re going to get married.” Sirius chuckled, his silver irises glimmering under the warm light of the street lamps. 

“You- What?” Remus had to take a deep breath before Sirius’ words could make sense in his head. He was too busy admiring, too focused on those inviting lips and those precious eyes. “I can’t believe you’re real. Beautiful, you look beautiful , did you know?”

“I know, I made myself even more beautiful just for you.” Sirius’ smile turned softer, more vulnerable, as if he was pushing aside his tough shields to welcome a soul inside his own. 

“I didn’t know you had a bike.” Remus’ gaze wandered all over the red and black, shiny Harley-Davidson, lingering maybe a little too long on the curves of Sirius’ slim legs wrapped to the side of the vehicle. Remus suddenly found himself wishing he was a bike himself, which was a weird thought coming from someone who never let himself crumble to desire.

“What can I say, I’m full of surprises, just like you.” Sirius shifted his weight a little, trying to show off his beloved bike. Little did he know that Remus couldn’t care less about the details of the bodywork of the vintage Harley-Davidson, he was too worried trying not to drool at how incredibly sexy he thought Sirius was. 

“You’re full of surprises indeed.” Remus didn’t know if he was allowed to touch the bike, touch Sirius, so he kept his hands awkwardly to himself, idling on his feet like he was waiting for something . 

Sirius handed Remus his spare helmet, nudging him a little. “Here, I’m starving, let’s go to dinner.” The supermodel smiled, pushing the ends of his hair back inside the collar of his jacket and putting his helmet back on.

“Did you pick a nice place?” Remus asked curiously, fumbling with his helmet. He didn’t really know how to wear it, and Sirius was quick to lend him a helping hand, securing the strap under Remus’ chin. It scraped one of his scars a little, bothering the sensitive tissue.

“I have a place in mind. My favorite.” Sirius spoke pensively, keeping his visor open. “I didn’t make a reservation, though, we won’t need one.”

“Lead the way then.” Remus effortlessly hopped on the bike, his long legs making it all easier despite his aching joints. He placed his cane in between his own stomach and Sirius’ back, sandwiching it securely in between their bodies.

“You should hold on tight.” Sirius teased, pressing his back against Remus, who timidly wrapped his arms around the model’s perfect waist. “Tighter, don’t be shy.” Sirius chuckled, squirming in between the seamster’s arms, trying to squeeze himself deeply into the man’s chest.

“If you wanted me to hold you, you could have simply asked.” Remus sighed, amused. He leaned his chin in the crook of Sirius’ shoulder, pressing himself against the model’s body until they were basically locked together.

“You’ve uncovered my secret plan, poor me.” Sirius giggled mischievously, turning his head a little until he was facing Remus. Their helmets put quite some unwanted space in between their lips, which Sirius couldn’t wait to close as soon as possible. “Here, squeeze my waist.”

And Remus does. He wraps his fingers around Sirius’ body, feeling every secret inch of him through the thick leather jacket. Sirius was thin, but he was hard all over. He was bony, yes, but also muscular in ways one wouldn’t expect. Remus found exploring the model’s body a wonderfully interesting experience. He squeezed Sirius as tightly as he could without breaking him, breathing in his sweet scent. Sirius could feel Remus’ heart rate accelerating and he found it incredibly comforting.

“Are you ready?” Sirius asked, his voice barely a starved whisper. He leaned into the gentle touch, hands imperceptibly twitching around the handlebars.

“Mh…” Remus hummed a few inches from Sirius’ ear, and that’s all the reckless model needed to hear.

With a firm snap of his hands, Sirius sent the bike flying across the empty street. Remus wasn’t expecting the kickback to hit that hard and he pressed himself against Sirius even more, impossibly so. Sirius laughed wholeheartedly, feeling on top of the damn world. There was not a single worry in his troubled head; he could only think of the evening breeze kissing his face and the warmth of Remus’ body against his.

"WHOO OOH!" Sirius screamed his excitement through the roaring of the engine.

They drove through the city center, squeezed into the other, for almost an hour. Sirius deliberately took the longest route to his designated destination, trying to stretch time as long as possible. He wanted to stay intertwined, Remus’ hands around his waist, for the rest of his life. Every time Sirius had to stop due to traffic or because of a red streetlight, he would smile to himself, diving deeper into his date’ chest. Remus, on his part, was unashamedly amused at the situation, letting the flickering in his stomach settle in anticipation for whatever more surprises Sirius had in store for the rest of the date.

Sirius drove for a while along the Thames, enjoying the soft, cold breeze coming from the river. Even with a bike, finding a parking spot in London was challenging, and Sirius didn’t want to park too far from the restaurant and force Remus to walk there, considering his condition. Sirius drove in circles around the area and when he finally found a parking spot close to the restaurant he had in mind, he parked with a dangerous maneuver that almost got the both of them squashed against a wall. 

“Attempted murder as a first date activity.” Remus huffed, struggling to get the helmet off. “You truly are full of surprises.”

“And what a way to die, wrapped around me like we were always meant to be one.” Sirius teased, though he got a little scared for a second, for Remus’ joints at least. “But anyways, I got you here all in one piece, so we might as well celebrate with some well deserved dinner, finally!” Sirius pointed at his restaurant of choice, a radiant smile on his face.

“A Five Guys?” Remus lifted a thick eyebrow, the one split in the middle by a scar. He stared at the red and white neon sign a little perplexed. “I wasn’t expecting this to be your favorite place.” He shrugged, chuckling a little. Sirius was just pulling a surprising move after the other.

“This is my favorite place. My favorite hotdog place .” Sirius’s smile widened and he let out a little, amused laugh. “Were you expecting me to take you to some fancy, dry-ass Michelin star restaurant where the portions are this big?” He made a gesture with his hand, squeezing his index and thumb to imitate the abysmally small portions that he usually got served in those kinds of restaurants. “I told you I’m starving .”

“I didn’t know supermodels ate fast food.” Remus gave Sirius a complicit look.

“We don’t, and my parents will kill me if they knew.” Sirius groaned, rolling his eyes at the night sky. “But you’re not planning on telling anyone, do you?”

“Definitely not.” Remus clicked his tongue firmly and he returned Sirius’ grin with so much willingness.

Sirius was glowing, his pearly skin reflecting the pale moonlight and the light of the street lamps, turning all different shades of pastel. “Let’s go then, I’m craving a bacon cheeseburger!” He grabbed Remus’ arm and he basically dragged him inside the restaurant, jumping a little out of pure excitement. 

☆☆☆

Remus couldn’t help but chuckle when Sirius gave the first bite to his huge, greasy, juicy, fairly overpriced bacon cheeseburger. Sirius could be really messy, especially while eating. He gobbled the first few bites in an instant, barely chewing before swallowing chunks of dripping oily meat and melted cheese, making loud, uncomfortable noises. If it was anyone else, Remus would have found the scene uncomfortable, but he was just helpless when it came to Sirius. Whatever the supermodel did, Remus found him just irresistibly adorable and precious. The way Sirius dirtied his lips, face and shirt with oil, the way he kept chewing loudly like a clueless, spoiled child, the way he shoved a bunch of fries down his throat at once; everything about him made Remus want to climb the table and kiss him until they both passed out.

“I’m full!” Sirius chanted satisfiedly after just a few moments, pushing his barely half eaten burger and basically full portion of fries to the side. “I fucking love this place, I haven’t had a meal this good in ages!”

The sudden change -from starving animal, to completely full- took Remus aback. He didn’t even have the time to touch his own food, too mesmerized by Sirius’ chaotic energy, and the model was already done . Remus’ first instinct was to point out the food that was still left in Sirius’ tray, but he bit down his own words. It wasn’t as if Remus was an expert of eating disorders, but it didn’t take him too much thinking to realize that Sirius’ behavior when it came to food wasn’t normal. Sirius mentioned during the runway show that he had a tendency to starve himself, and even just one glance at the model’s physique was enough confirmation of that. But then he looked so radiant while stuffing himself with greasy, unhealthy food that for a second Remus forgot about it, and it all came crashing down on him in a single moment of realization. Sirius was certainly dealing with something, and he didn’t need Remus prying and moralizing.

“I’m glad you enjoyed your food.” Remus simply said, pushing himself to finish his food quickly so as to not leave Sirius to mull over whatever darkness was hiding in his head. “Mh, mine’s good as well. You made the right choice, this place is awesome.”

“I know right.” Sirius rested his elbows on the table and his head on his hands, looking at Remus with a tender smile on his face. “You see, I rarely feel comfortable eating in front of other people. Most of the time I get scolded for eating too much, and that kills my appetite instantly. I never get to enjoy one meal without feeling guilty.” He admitted melancholically, yet his gentle smile only softened further as he stared deeply into Remus’ eyes. “But I figured it would be different with you. I feel comfortable around you, Remus. I knew you wouldn’t judge me, or make me feel wrong… Thank you.”

Remus’ breath hitched as if he was punched in the guts by the hint of misery in Sirius’ words. “Don’t thank me. It’s basic human decency.” He mumbled, his mouth full of half-chewed bacon and cheese. “Do you want to try one of my fries? I got the cajun version. They’re pretty good.” 

“Nah, I’m really full.”

Remus didn’t want to press further and possibly cause Sirius stress, so he just shrugged and accepted the rejection as final. He brought a long, spicy fry to his lips, but before he could eat it Sirius basically jumped on top of the table. With the agility of a gazelle, Sirius crawled through the trays filled with half eaten food and he brought his lips dangerously close to Remus’, eyes locked into the other's. Remus held his breath, frozen in place as Sirius brushed his warm mouth against the seamster's unusually shaky fingers. Without breaking the intense eye contact, Sirius wrapped his lips around the tip of the fry, seductively sliding it off Remus' hand. It was an embarrassingly long and fervent moment of unexpected closeness, which Remus hoped would last a whole eternity. But alas, Sirius crawled back to his seat way too quickly, audibly chewing the spicy fry as if he wanted the whole world to hear. Remus was left astonished, shaking in his seat, fighting the urge to jump on top of Sirius and scoop the fry out of his mouth with his tongue. They were both being weird, but neither of them seemed to care; they were too busy wondering how the other would taste on a silver plate, covered in spices.

“You were right. Those fries are pretty good indeed.” Sirius spoke softly, licking his lips excruciatingly slowly. The tip of his tongue drew a deliberately indulgent path along his arched cupid bow, leaving a thin, glistening coat of saliva behind. 

If Sirius jumping on the table didn’t drive Remus completely crazy, the way he bit his lower lip did the trick. It was addicting, a masterful ritual of seduction. Who would have thought, of all things, it could only take a spicy cajun fry to awaken Remus’ dormant libido, against all reason. And as icing on the well seasoned junk food cake, Sirius looked too satisfied with himself for his own good. Remus needed to return the favor; he needed to blow the model’s world even just a little, before he completely lost himself in Sirius’ grandeur.

“That’s it, I’m done.” Remus choked on one last, big bite of juicy burger. He wiped his hands clumsily with some wrinkled tissues, then he grabbed his cane in one hand, and Sirius’ hand in the other, and they dragged each other out of the restaurant.

☆☆☆

It was getting late and most shops were closing, but Remus and Sirius still enjoyed a good forty minutes of window shopping, since they both shared a genuine passion for fashion. They discussed their taste in silhouettes, colors and patterns, and turns out they were surprisingly quite different. It was a nice way to get to know each other, at least superficially. Sirius held Remus’ hand the whole time, pointing at every cool dressed mannequin he saw.

They stopped in front of a vintage shop, with a little punk rock edge to it. The iron shutters of the main entrance door were already drawn, but the front window was dimly lit for the night. Sirius’ eyes widened in awe at the mannequin on display. It was dressed in cool seventies, skin tight leather clothes from head to toe. Sirius’ jaw dropped as he fantasized about going out dressed like that.

“I freaking love leather.” the model grinned. “My parents hate it. They say it’s appalling, that only cavemen and freaks could wear it. I think it’s the coolest.” 

“As a seamster, I have a problem with leather.” Remus gave the mannequin a quick look, but he was far too focused on Sirius to find anything else interesting. “Nowadays, it’s hard to find decent quality leather to work with. Many manufacturers are trying to go vegan by producing synthetic eco-leather. But turns out, the ‘eco-leather’ that’s being produced right now is only doing more damage than good.” He explained in a gentle tone. “The one you’re wearing is vintage, but see that dude’s jacket?” Remus pointed at a man walking right past them, who was wearing a modern looking, damaged faux leather jacket. “Look at the shoulders and under his armpits, where there’s more friction. The leather is literally disintegrating, it’s flaking everywhere, and the microplastics are going to pollute the planet for I don’t even know how long.” 

“Damn, I’ve never paid attention to it.” Sirius muttered.

“And there’s no way of preventing that. Faux leather, as of right now, is going to disintegrate like that sooner than later.” Remus sighed, his lanky shoulders slumping. “In the attempt of saving the animals, these fast fashion manufacturers are just killing more and more lives.” He inhaled sharply, disappointed. “You know, I’ve been saving money for the past couple of years. I want to study and research new ways to create eco-friendly fabrics.” 

“Wow, Remus.” Sirius’ grin widened, as he squeezed Remus’ hand. “You’re such a kind, smart soul. Honestly, how can you be so perfect!” He giggled in awe, though Remus suspected the model only listened to half of his rant about the environment, if he listened at all.

“It’s just a dream of mine.” Remus shrugged. “I care about the planet, but I also love creating clothes. I believe I can find a solution to solve the environmental impact of the fashion industry if I try hard enough, but I have accomplished nothing concrete as of today.”

“Remus, you’re twenty five! And you’re so talented and intelligent.” Sirius cantilenated, brushing Remus’ calloused hand with his thumb. “You’ll make a difference someday, I’m sure about that.”

It was such a mundane little touch, yet it felt almost too good. Remus could feel his face heating up, and he looked away, trying to hide the embarrassing redness on his cheeks. He squeezed Sirius’ hand back timidly, their fingers interlocking as if they were made to fit each other perfectly. They stayed silent for a while, walking around aimlessly.

They ended up walking along the Thames for a little while, hand in hand, before settling on a secluded bench near the water. They both stayed silent for a while, just enjoying the moment: the feeling of cold breeze on their faces, the warmth of fingers interlocked with the other's, the gentle humming of the river. The night sky was filled with bright, flickering stars and celestial corps, glimmering distantly above their heads. Sirius leaned onto Remus’ shoulder, finding a comfortable resting spot in the crook of the taller man's neck.

“I love stargazing.” Sirius murmured at some point, rubbing his cheek against Remus. “Did you know that I’m named after a star?”

“Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky. They couldn’t have chosen a better suited name for you.” Remus nodded in approval, daring to gently rest his head on top of Sirius, trapping the beautiful supermodel in a careful, yet tight embrace.

“You flatter me.” Sirius chuckled softly, pressing his back against the bench. Then he pointed at the most beautiful, bright jewel in the sky. “There I am. The Dog Star .”

“ Sirius rises late in the dark, liquid sky/ On summer nights, star of stars,/ Orion's Dog they call it, brightest/ Of all, but an evil portent, bringing heat/ And fevers to suffering humanity .” Remus recited the Homeric passage word per word, with a solemn tone. He stared at the sky, then at Sirius, and he was so grateful to have been granted the honor of touching the most precious star.

“Look at you, literally quoting the Iliad on our first date.” Sirius barked out an amused laugh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t know you like literature.”

“You weren’t expecting that from me, mh?” Remus scrolled his shoulders a little, and Sirius only crawled deeper into the other man's neck. 

“No, I wasn’t.” Sirius admitted with a grin. “But I’m glad you do. My father loves those verses, he never misses a chance to remind me of my place. Orion’s dog , my ass.” He spat, disdained. “But when you said it, it sounded so poetic. Every word you say sounds so sweet, Remus.”

“I was merely quoting one of the greatest poems to ever exist. I have no merit in that.” Remus scoffed, offering his star a sweet, little smile.

“ He speaks. O, speak again, bright angel! ” Sirius recited dramatically a few inches from the other man's ear.

“There you are, quoting Shakespeare. A little cliché, don’t you think?”

“Don’t be mean to me, Remus.” Sirius whined, a sound so softly guttural it made Remus shiver. Then, Sirius recited again: “ I have a soul of lead that nails me to the ground so I can’t move. ”

“ Borrow Cupid's wings and soar with them above the dancing crowd .” Remus gladly indulged in Sirius’ play, whispering Shakespearean quotes into each other's skin.

“I’m too sore wounded with his arrow to soar with his feathers, let alone my toes.”

“O Sirius, Sirius! Why must thou be Sirius? Deny thy family and refuse thy name.” Remus gently played with a stand of Sirius’ silky, raven hair. “Thou art thyself, though not a Black. What's a Black? It is not hand or foot,” Remus brought Sirius’ hand to his lips, whispering soft words against the palm before leaving a careful kiss. “nor arm,” Remus’ lips brushed against Sirius's wrist, and up his arm, leaving a trail of small kisses behind. “nor face,” another kiss, on Sirius’ forehead, then another, down the model's jaw. “nor any other part belonging to a man.”

“Remus, are you even real?” Sirius moaned, tilting his head to offer more and more of his jaw and neck to be devoured raw with gentle kisses. “ O blessed, blessed night! I am afraid, being at night, all this is but a dream…”

“I still can’t believe you’re allowing me to exist in your presence, let alone to touch you.” Remus continued kissing everywhere his lips could reach as if his life depended on it. “Sirius… precious, beautiful .” He whispered against the models’ Adam's Apple. “How can I be ever worthy of your love? You could have anything in the universe, yet you’re here in my arms, and I’m so selfish that I never want to let you go.” Remus cupped Sirius’ face in his hands, gently stroking his cheeks. “Do you love me? I know you’ll say yes , and I’ll believe you sensely, but please- Please promise that your love is real.”

“ By yonder blessed moon I swear! That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops -”

“ O, swear not by the moon -” Remus recited quickly with a pressing, urgent tone. “ The inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circled orb, lest that thy love prove likewise variable .” He kissed the top of Sirius’ head, looking up at the sky.

Remus loved that passage of Romeo and Juliet, and he loved Sirius even more for choosing the most fitting quotes to make their love confession feel less awkward. The envious full moon split the night sky with her blindingly cold light, and still she paled compared to Sirius.

“ What shall I swear by? ” Sirius recited again, but a little less dramatically. He wasn’t playing anymore, there was unsure, genuine hesitation in between each word.

“ Do not swear at all;” Remus pressed their foreheads together, searching for the comforting silver of Sirius’ irises. “or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, which is the god of my idolatry, and I'll believe thee .”

“Oh, you love Shakespeare…” Sirius chuckled, melting in the other’s embrace. “You flawless, gorgeous, smart angel. I love you so much, do you hear me? I love you.”

“I do love Shakespeare, but not as much as I love you.” Remus mumbled the last part, his voice barely a whisper. He bit the inside of his mouth, tensing a little. “God, that was embarrassing-”

But before things could turn uncomfortable, Sirius began to recite again, lighting the mood. He took Remus’ hand in his, fingers interlocking in a perfect fit. “If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.” Sirius felt the warmth of Remus’ hand, so alive and soft, and he left a yearning kiss on top of his knuckles.

“Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this;” Remus' breath hitched and he leaned into the model’s touch hungrily, foolishly. They explored each other’s hands with curious carefulness. When Remus’ fingers lingered on the other’s wrist, healing still raw wounds, he could feel Sirius’ fast, desperate heartbeat underneath delicate skin. “for saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.”

“Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?” Sirius asked with a faint voice, all his strength and energy focused on just feeling as much as he could. Every detail of Remus’ hand was special: each line, each tiny muscle clenching and craving. 

“Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.” Remus’ strong, calloused fingers tightened carefully around Sirius’, sharing the other’s overwhelming willingness to explore and feel .

“O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do.” Sirius whispered into the other’s skin. He whimpered softly as Remus’ fingers plunged in between his, sending shivers of pleasure all over his sensitive body. Sirius wanted more, he wanted everything.

Remus didn’t dare to move when Sirius leaned closer, finally closing the infinite gap between their lips in a soft, chaste, tentative kiss. It was almost painfully slow, so careful. The warmth from their entangled fingers grew stronger, burning, consuming. Sirius’ lips were just as soft and delicate as the rest of him. He tasted bittersweet and slightly sour, like the finest of wines, with an aftertaste of junk food grease. He was a pleasure for Remus to savor, to discover. Their senses were enhanced, feeling every slight brushing of lips all over their bodies. Everything was new for the both of them; the tenderness, the careful pauses, the curious, daring boldness. It was too much and not enough.

“Thus from my lips, by thine my sin is purged.” Sirius whispered as they reluctantly pulled away, breathless. He timidly looked up, craving the blessed sight of Remus’ eyes, drowning in the depth of his love.

“Then have my lips the sin that they have took.” Remus breathed out, letting out years of suppressed tension. He smiled, lips stretching a few inches from Sirius’, and the model swore to himself that he never saw anything more beautiful.

“My sin on your lips?!” Sirius exclaimed, wrapping his arms around Remus’ neck. He had a big, bright smile on his face. “May I be damned, return it to me!”

Remus didn’t need to be told twice. Fueled by an unknown hunger, he pulled Sirius back into another passionate, deeper kiss. This time they were both more confident, more daring. Their lips began to move as the kiss grew hungrier, bolder, more urgent, more desperate. Remus completely embraced Sirius, arms wrapped around the model’s waist, keeping him as close as possible. Sirius pressed deeper, pulling at Remus’ neck. Their tongues curiously began to explore the other’s mouth, ecstatic, tasting greedily and voraciously. It started slow, they were both unsure of what to do, or how much they were allowed to take. They parted away for less than a moment, just to catch some air, before diving into another even more passionate, increasingly messier, sloppier kiss. They kissed and touched again, and again, and again, and each time felt as overwhelming as the first.

“Sirius-” Remus gasped in between kisses, his muscles aching so pleasurably as Sirius dug his fingers inside his brown waves, dragging him closer and closer . “Sirius, you’re unreal–”

Sirius made soft, muffled noises in between each kiss. Remus let the sound of Sirius’ unashamed pleasure fill his starved heart. He did little to oppose his newfound needs and desires, letting hunger, desperation and adoration take control of his body. Remus wanted to taste, to give in to his animalistic, primordial need to devour. Sirius trembled ever so slightly, a shiver running up and down his spine, starting from the point where Remus’ lips were caressing his. 

“Would you like to go somewhere more… private?” Sirius whispered, his voice sore with desire and pressing pleasure. He dragged his lips along Remus’ neck, along his jaw, and back on his lips again. A hand slipped down Remus’ chest, feeling the seamster’s abdomen through the flimsy Bowie t-shirt, and still dropping.

They were so close, breathing at unison, and they prayed to the moon that the moment could last forever. But the moment didn’t last nearly enough. Remus’ eyes widened, a sudden moment of clarity ripping his blissful mind away from that magical moment. He gasped, as if all the air was brutally punched out of his lungs. He interrupted the fateful kiss, gently pushing his beautiful Sirius away. The model was taken aback roughly, his desperate feelings now a raging, suffocating storm. Silver pupils widened in shock, as Sirius searched Remus’ gaze for any sign of regret. Remus began hyperventilating in his lover’s arms, shaking like a leaf as he realized what just happened. They kissed . Remus felt like he was about to die, his throat contracting and collapsing, preventing him from breathing properly. He needed to run, he needed to escape, he needed to make it stop before things got out of hand. He flinched involuntarily when Sirius tried to caress his face. 

“Remus, what’s wrong..?” Sirius whispered, feeling lost.

Remus sucked up a painful breath, his eyes struggling to focus. “I’m sorry, I-” Panic surged way too quickly. He was powerless, his muscles useless and weak. A strained sob escaped his throat, and Remus was terrified at the realization that he was about to cry. “I can’t- I’ve never- Fuck ..!” His eyes were burning, stinging, his brain sending agonizing shocks to his whole body. 

“Breathe, Remus…” Sirius’ mind raced. His chest ached as he felt fear rip his insides. Burning fear that he might have hurt Remus with his uncontrollable desires, that he might have violated the precious trust they briefly shared by devouring more than he was allowed. “It’s ok… I love you , I- Tell me what I did wrong.”

“Nothing!” Remus inhaled sharply, squeezing Sirius’ hand in his. “You did nothing wrong… You’re wonderful at everything you do. And I love you so much , Sirius, I really do.” He mentally slapped himself for being so weak, so irreparably miserable. Even after ten years, Remus was never able to grow past the shadows of his past. “But I… Sirius, I can’t- I can’t give you more than this… This is too much already and I don’t-”

“Are you worrying about…” Sirius tilted his head as he spoke softly. “sex?”

Remus hesitated for a second, his face turning all shades of red. “Yes.” He suppressed a guttural cry, avoiding Sirius’ gaze. 

Even just the word ‘sex’ made Remus’ insides revolt. He felt pathetic, for being terrified of a mere concept. Remus' skin crawled as if he was being ravaged inside out; his mind was incapable of fully detaching memories and reality sometimes. He was ashamed of himself for so many reasons, he wanted to crawl out of his skin and set it on fire. Remus shook his head, he just couldn’t deal with himself at the moment. He managed to ruin a special moment with the one guy he actually liked. He made Sirius sad with his irrational fears and unresolved traumas. He threw the first relationship he ever had down the drain, before it could even start. Remus was constantly being devoured by guilt and grief, always blaming himself for all the misery that always seemed to follow him. He wanted to run away and hide, forget anything ever happened, but Sirius smiled so softly- and fuck he was just so perfect for Remus to comprehend.

“Oh, Remus, it’s ok!” Sirius breathed out, relieved. Even after Remus’ sudden freak out, there was still not a single hint of judgment in those silver eyes. “It’s our first date, I understand if you don’t want to fuck me immediately. We can take our sweet time if you need to, no one’s chasing us!”

“No, Sirius-” Remus choked on his own words, trying to piece together his own painfully messy stream of thoughts. “I don’t want to do anything more than this. I can’t.”

“Like, ever?” Sirius arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow, cupping Remus’ cheek in his hand.

“I- I don't know.” Remus shook his head, trembling as he felt the personified monster of his fears gnawing at his insides. “It terrifies me. I know it's pathetic, but I- I can't. I just can't.”

Sirius let the words sink deep inside his soul. There was a long moment of cold silence, where the both of them stayed frozen in place, unsure of where the confrontation was going to lead them. Remus was ready to get up and run, to leave that little, fairytale-like adventure in the past and continue living just as miserably as always. But Sirius’ hands squeezed his tightly.

“Ok.” Sirius spoke reassuringly, caressing the back of Remus’ hands with his thumbs. “It's fine, Remus, really. I'm glad you told me, and we'll make it work! I don't care that much about sex that I would lose you for it.” He sounded so determined, so honest, Remus could hardly believe it.

“But you like sex…” Remus whined in distress, the lump in his throat getting more and more suffocating. “You deserve to feel good, you deserve someone who can make you feel good all the time-”

“Kiss me again.” Sirius interrupted him abruptly, his lips a mere inch away from the other man’s.

“Sirius…” Remus tried to protest, but Sirius just shut him down again.

“Kiss me again, please -” Sirius pleaded almost desperately, his stomach clenching at the painful lack of touch. Remus hesitated just a second more before diving back into another soft, yearning, hungry kiss. They groaned and moaned into each other's mouths as they found new hidden spots to explore, to mark, to caress. They kissed slowly, deeply, melting into a gentle, careful embrace. Sirius shifted his weight, sliding down the bench and dragging Remus on top of him, until they were basically laying down under the moonlight. Sirius breathed out achingly as he finally pulled away once again, searching Remus’ eyes. “I’ve never felt this good with anyone. Ever.” 

“You know it’s not the same.” Remus sighed, brushing his lips against Sirius’ forehead.

“You’re right, it’s not the same.” Sirius smiled softly and he left yet another quick kiss on Remus’ lips. “I’ve never felt this good. Fuck , I’ve had some dudes that managed to make me come three times during a single encounter, and it still didn’t feel as good as this. Not even closely.” He was laughing so bitterly, as if he was swallowing bile, yet his eyes shone so vulnerably. “I don’t know what it is about you, Remus, but you make me feel so good, so full, without even trying.”

“Fuck-” Remus leaned down and he kissed Sirius again. Their lips were swollen and throbbing by then, but it was never enough. It would never be enough. “Sirius, you can’t say things like this.” They kissed again, almost rolling off the bench. “You don’t understand the things you make me feel. You’re beautiful -”

“I’m yours.” Sirius bit Remus’ bottom lip, squeezing sweet flesh in between his fangs. “And you’re mine .” 

“Yours.” Remus repeated, entranced, his mouth moving on its own. It was frightening, the way his body reacted to Sirius, but it felt so damned good. “ Mine .” He ate the model’s face, each ravaging kiss healing a little more of Remus’ inner scars.

“Forever.” 

More kisses.

“Forever.”

Sirius pulled Remus’ hair almost painfully, dragging him closer until their bodies were basically fused together. The distant sounds of the city being constantly busy even at night could barely reach them as they rolled into a tighter embrace. The kisses were just the perfect level of intimacy, reaching deep enough to feel good, but not too much to the point it hurt. It was a perfect balance of pleasure, and they reached the edge on their very first date. It was a nice thing, on one hand, to be able to fall in love so quickly and so desperately. Neither of them seemed to worry about what was to come. Where could their relationship end up, if they reached the best of it in the beginning?

“Aren’t we going a little too fast?” Remus whispered in the crook of the model’s neck.

“No, because we’re like Romeo and Juliet.” Sirius grinned, showing his teeth possessively. “But better. We have a whole lifetime ahead and I’ll love you through every moment of it.”

Remus inhaled Sirius’ scent and he felt so nice . Sweet and clean, with a hint of nobility. Sirius was so distinctively different from the shadow haunting Remus’ nightmares; he was a whole new, beautiful experience. Every little touch felt both familiar and new at the same time. And despite all logic and fears Remus wanted more. And more . Maybe he was healing, maybe he was going crazy, he couldn’t care less. He wanted more of Sirius, forever. 

They stayed embraced on the bench until the city was eerily quiet. They talked about nothing at all, until their lips were too dry and they couldn’t speak any longer. Then they stayed silent, just enjoying each other’s presence.

☆☆☆

The ride back to Camden was quiet. Sirius drove slower, taking his sweet time, focusing on the warm feeling of his boyfriend’s body pressed against his. Remus felt different than any other man Sirius ever had before. His grip was strong, and his sapient hands held Sirius’ waist with manly firmness, yet he was sweet and careful in every little touch. For the longest time, Sirius thought that he loved being handled roughly; but as Remus leaned against his back, Sirius came to the sad and sudden realization that maybe it was not true. Maybe Sirius didn’t like being handled roughly, maybe it was just all he had ever known up until that point. Remus’ gentleness made Sirius feel so good, it turned the memories of all the vicious and brutal men before him into nightmares. Remus was soft in a way that Sirius believed was unreal, and goodness Sirius didn’t want to be touched by anyone else ever again. 

“There we are…” Remus sighed as Sirius pulled over in front of his rundown building. He took off his helmet, scratching his head. “Thank you for the ride.”

Sirius felt like he was being forced out of a dream; he didn’t want the date to end. He wanted to rot in Remus’ gentle, soft, careful arms until the end of times. It was unfair to be separated. It would have been much easier and convenient if the two of them were fused together, merged into one singular being of love.

“Are you sure you don’t want to spend the night together? We can go to a hotel or something…” Sirius whined like a spoiled child. He trapped Remus in a tight embrace as he refused to let him go. “We don’t have to do anything , I just can’t get enough of your kisses…”

“I’m feeling a lot right now…” Remus murmured pensively, melancholically, caressing Sirius’ hair. “There are some things that… trouble me. I’m not ready to tell you, yet, but I need to cool down a little.” He admitted with quite some difficulty, swallowing a suffocating lump. “I love you.” He kissed the tip of Sirius’ nose, bumping against the helmet visor. “I promise, I’ll do better. Love you.”

“I love you, too.” Sirius whimpered, tilting his head a little, so that his lips could reach Remus’. He hesitated, though, their mouths barely touching. “You can talk to me, you know? About anything.”

“I know.” Remus nodded, closing the distance between them with one quick, chaste, yet incredibly loving kiss. “I will, sooner than later. I trust you, it’s just… I need to let this feeling sink in.”

Remus could feel Sirius’ muscles tensing up. They managed to build quite a level of trust in such a short amount of time, but for the sake of everyone’s sanity Remus decided that somethings had to stay hidden for at least a little longer. There were secrets so obscure that Remus himself rarely allowed himself to think about it, and he certainly wasn’t going to dump years of darkness onto Sirius on their very first date. Sirius, though, was evidently impatient and unhealthily untrusting, but he sucked up his doubts and issues and he decided to trust Remus.

“Ok. It’s fine.” The model pouted and sighed, looking at the seamster with the puppiest eyes the world had ever seen. “I love you… goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Remus kissed Sirius again. And again. On the lips, then on the nose, and again on the lips. Each kiss was supposed to be the last, but the chain didn’t seem to stop. It was only when Sirius smiled again that Remus forced himself to part. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Then tomorrow I will live again.” Sirius recited solemnly, blowing his boyfriend one final goodnight kiss.

“A thousand times good night.”

☆☆☆

“Where have you been?” Regulus hissed in a low, raspy voice the moment Sirius walked into their shared anteroom. 

The youngest Black brother was hunched on his still perfectly made bed, arms crossed like a judging grandmother. He clearly hadn’t slept a second, nervously waiting for Sirius to come back all night. The eldest brother groaned at the pitiful sight.

“I was just out on my bike.” Sirius half lied, throwing his leather jacket on the coat rack they shared. He walks towards Regulus’ bed to ruffle his baby brother’s raven curls lovingly. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re lying.” Regulus clenched his teeth, flinching. He had deep, dark bags under his eyes and his gaze was dull, tired, and betrayed. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“And you’re being paranoid.” Sirius rolled his eyes, playfully pinching his brother’s cheek as if he was a baby.

“You promised.” Regulus spat, slapping Sirius’ hand away from his face. “You promised to never hide things from me ever again.” He cried out, scratching his throat. “Don’t cut me out of your life, Sirius.”

The eldest was taken aback by such an adverse, viscerally desperate reaction. Suddenly, flashes from the night he made that promise came crushing him down like a curse. It had been five years. Sirius took a step back, giving his baby brother a good look. Regulus looked miserable, exhausted and genuinely hurt. Sirius recounted all the times he had to lie, all the times he had to put on a mask for his brother’s sake. Ever since that night, five years prior, Sirius had broken the promise several times to protect Regulus from the harshness of the world. Because Regulus was still a baby to him, his baby. But Regulus was actually old enough to think for himself, and life already provided him enough trauma from which Sirius hadn’t been able to protect him. It was unfair for the little brother to worry so much about the older. At the end of the day, Regulus was a much better brother than Sirius could ever aspire to be.

“I’m not cutting you out.” Sirius bit his bottom lip, mentally whipping himself for not being able to be fully honest with his little brother, who on the other hand was the most trustworthy person he knew. “Trust me. You don’t have to worry about me, I’m fine.”

“Liar.” Regulus shook his head, avoiding Sirius’ gaze. 

“ Goodnight .” Sirius said firmly, and he walked off. He knew better than to argue with his brother, especially because he didn’t like to lose .

Chapter Text

Sirius leaned against the wall, a half emptied glass of champagne in one hand, and the hem of his avant-garde jumpsuit/dress in the other. He had a splitting headache and he had to swallow back puke. He stared at his family from a distance with a disdained grimace on his face. It was especially during gala nights that he realized just how much he hated the whole lot of them. Except for Regulus, of course, but his baby brother hardly counted; he shared nothing, except for some droplets of blood, with the rest of the Blacks. 

Gala nights were nothing but a duty, and a particularly excruciating one if you were to ask Sirius. After the London Fashion Week, all members of the BLACK family were expected to show up at parties and exclusive events looking their absolute best. It was a tiring, boring and devastatingly agonizing ordeal. Sirius, as the face of the brand, was required to look pretty and smile the entire time; he would have rather died- no . He would have rather been anywhere else, chatting with anyone else. 

But alas, fate made him a Black, and as such he was parading himself through the venue where the Gala was held, sipping champagne until his brain was slightly dizzy. It wasn’t nearly enough and he missed a good line of cocaine or a handful of sweet pills. His parents had been even more controlling ever since the Fashion Week fiasco, making sure Sirius stayed painfully sober at all times, despite how badly his body and mind craved some chemical relief. He was allowed to drink champagne during the Gala to be polite, and Sirius tried to make up for days of forced sobriety by swallowing glass after glass of alcohol in a poor attempt to feel like himself again.

Sirius was wearing a rather beautiful outfit, courtesy of his mother: a black, long, flowy chiffon dress with a large skirt and vertiginous slit, which revealed a pair of skintight, lace pants underneath. The skirt was removable, and it was attached with invisible hooks to a tight, structured bustier made of damask velvet and adorned with black trimmings along the boning channels. Sirius felt pretty good, or at least he did until people at the Gala started complimenting him a little too much. 

‘With a body like that, everything looks good on him’, ‘What a gorgeous son you have, Orion’, ‘He took after you, Walburga’, Sirius gritted his teeth and took offense at every remark. It was probably entitled of him, he was such a brat that he couldn’t even take a compliment without feeling like he was being constantly attacked. 

“A pretty face like yours only deserves the best.” Said a guest, some famous designer, and he refilled Sirius’ glass.

That, Sirius took gladly. With a charming smile on his pretty face , the model let the alcohol slide down his throat and he relished when his brain went a little more numb. It was just standard routine practice. Smile, drink, exchange a little chat with whoever, drink some more. By the end of the night Sirius hoped he would be light enough to forget the Gala ever happened.

“Your parents are truly jealous of their star, and I can finally see why.” The famous designer insisted, refilling Sirius’ glass once again. He probably gave Sirius his name at some point, something along the line of Mulciber, but the model didn’t care enough to listen. “There’s a horde of designers waiting for your exclusive contract with BLACK to expire. And I’m one of them, I’d love to dress you someday.”

“It’s good to know that when my contract expires I won’t be going out naked.” Sirius snorted, swallowing the entire champagne glass in one go.

“Now, if you put it like that, I think there are more people who would want to see you naked rather than clothed, even by the best designers.” The man laughed at own joke, getting a little too close to refill the model’s glass once again.

Sirius didn’t find the joke funny, but he laughed dryly anyway. A little voice in his brain, one that was still too sober, screamed at him to walk away, but he wanted -he needed- the champagne. So he drank again, all in one big swallow, and he tilted his head at the pressingly insisting designer.

“Are you amongst those who would want to see me naked as well?” Sirius asked sharply, his fist clenching against the glass to the point of almost shattering it.

“Honestly speaking, I think everyone in here wants to see you naked.” The designer chuckled coldly, looking at Sirius up and down as if he thought the model was stupid for even asking. “Some respectfully, some even with ill intent. I am, for my part, an arts magnate. I think you’re a rare piece of art, and as such I respect you in all your forms.” 

That didn’t make Sirius feel any better. The designer offered him another champagne refill and Sirius was almost tempted to refuse. Almost. The precarious need of self-preservation he developed since dating Remus -a day or so- wasn’t strong enough to save him from creeps when alcohol was involved. He drank more cautiously, slowly, trying not to cross his own limits without even knowing it. But in the end he needed the relief, and one small sip led to a deeper swallow and the glass was empty in less than a minute.

“Are you flirting with me?” Sirius squeezed his eyes shut for a couple of seconds, feeling a little dizzy. “If so, that was a rather poor attempt at trying to catch my attention.” He blurted, his lips curling in a challenging smirk.

“Flirting, yes. From a strictly professional point of view.” The designer let out an amused laugh, eying Sirius with a weirdly curious look. “You’re flawless, the perfect canvas. I'd be a fool to not try and get to know you.”

Sirius clicked his tongue bitterly and he instinctively took an uncoordinated step back. The alcohol was definitely doing funny tricks to his brain. And the near starvation diet he was following, combined with the forced almost week-long sobriety, definitely weren’t helping. The designer dude was either very preoccupied, or extremely amused, and he immediately proceeded to grab Sirius’ slim waist before the model could stumble on his own feet.

“Careful there, pretty. You shouldn’t drink too much, someone might try to steal you away.” the designer purred against the model’s ear. 

Sirius flinched, suddenly feeling trapped. He tried to squirm away from the unwanted touch, but his thoughts were too foggy. The designer surely didn’t mean to make Sirius that uncomfortable, but damn it- Sirius was on the verge of screaming. Just one date with a nice guy, and Sirius’ acceptance of harassment was already reduced to almost zero. It should have been a positive development, a concrete step forward in respecting himself more, though for a moment Sirius wished he could be back to his normal self and just take it with a smile. But no, Remus showed Sirius what loving touch is supposed to be, and suddenly the model was panicking just because a stranger was touching his waist and saying weird shit.

“Is there a problem here?” James pushed himself in between Sirius and the creepy designer, keeping his nearly drunk best friend safe behind him. Like a guardian angel, he spoke with the kindest, warmest, most familiar voice.

“James-” Sirius breathed out like a prayer. 

“I think we were doing quite alright.” The designer muttered, stepping away from James. A disappointed tsk escaped his mouth, which the photographer promptly noticed.

“ Alright .” James repeated mischievously through gritted teeth. “Well, then it’s alright if I take my turn enjoying Sirius’ presence.” His usually gentle face contorted in a hard grimace.

The creepy designer didn’t bulge at first, staring at Sirius with an unreadable gaze. He was annoyed, a little angry, very disappointed and maybe something even more sinister. Sirius grabbed his best friend’s arm to find both physical and emotional support and stability. James flexed his firm biceps in a condescending move, but to be fair Sirius instantly felt safer, no matter how silly it was. When the creepy designer realized that Sirius was officially out of reach, he let out a silent groan and he left without saying anything.

“Are you ok?” James asked as Sirius frantically dragged him towards a less crowded area of the venue.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Sirius lied. He breathed out, trying to find a steady rhythm, his chest clenching at every inhale.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“And you sound exactly like my paranoid brother.” Sirius spat coldly, bracing himself as if his insides were about to fall out of him. “I’m fine .”

“Ok, you’re fine, jeez.” James shook his head at his friend’s pathetic attempt at sounding even remotely unaffected. Honestly, he thought to himself that he should have been offended by the fact that Sirius believed even for a second that he could fool James. “How was your secret date, by the way?” He changed the subject tentatively, in hope that it could help Sirius find some grounding comfort.

“Oh James, it went amazing !” Sirius was too shaken to manage a proper smile, but his lips curled up a little. “Remus is perfect! He quotes Homer and Shakespeare! He knows Romeo and Juliet by heart ! He also cares about the planet, the environment, the animals and most of all he cares about me. Can you believe it?” The model’s pale face regained some healthy color and his voice sounded much more energetic than moments before. “He cares about me !”

“ I care about you, yet we never went on a date.” James faked a sad little pout, trying to lift Sirius’ mood by messing around.

“Did you want to go on a date? You should have asked.” Sirius shrugged, his feeble smile slowly turning into a playful grin. “Now it’s too late, I’m taken.”

“Good, you’re not even my type.” James whistled mischievously, thriving at the immediate, dramatic change in Sirius’ facial expression.

“Shut up, I am everyone’s type.” Sirius was appalled by the mere implication that he was anything but flawless by all standards. His jaw was on the floor, his precious eyes were so wide open that they almost popped out of his perfectly sculpted skull.

“Not mine.” James retaliated.

“No, I am your type.” Sirius insisted, getting increasingly more and more worked up.

“Hair too long.” James pointed out, trying to sound firm and serious, though he could hardly contain a chuckle. “And you’re too old.”

“I’m a few months older than you!” The model protested, raising his voice.

“Basically a mummy.” James kept instigating.

Sirius made a silly muffled screeching sound, offended beyond relief, before launching himself at James. He grabbed the sun charms hanging from the photographer’s glasses and he yanked at the gold chains. The two friends brawled affectionately like two children for a couple of blissful moments, throwing hands carefully but meanly.

“James Potter, I’m about to strangle you in front of everyo-”

“What is going on here?” Regulus’ voice came all of a sudden, impending and scolding, interrupting the playful moment between the two friends. 

“Regulus, what the heck-” James shrieked, jolting.

The youngest Black had the supernatural ability to pop out of nowhere, walking round unnoticed, startling the people around him whenever he decided to make his presence known. Only Sirius was able to sort of keep track of his younger brother, so he was rarely caught too off guard. 

“Reggie, thank goodness you’re here!” Sirius giggled, ruffling James’ hair. “Help me strangle this twat.”

“Why are you strangling James, Sirius?” Regulus asked, rolling his eyes.

“He started it!” Sirius replied quickly, without losing a beat, pointing an accusatory finger at his best friend.

“Alright I started it.” James groaned, defeated. But then his playful grimace turned more intense, and he pinched Sirius’ waist. “But I’m going to end it as well.”

Before Sirius could react, his brain working a little too slow due to the alcohol and lack of sugar, James was tickling him mercilessly. Sirius tried to squirm away, but he stepped on the hem of his skirt and he almost fell. James didn’t grant him any mercy, tickling his friend in every spot he knew would make him laugh. Sirius bit the insides of his mouth, but he still laughed wholeheartedly, though he kept stumbling onto his own dress.

“Stop, you’ll ruin mother’s design.” Regulus tried to break the two friends apart, sounding a little too amused for the situation.

“Good riddance.” Sirius hissed. Still he pushed James off of him, fixing his hair. “Stop, Jamie!”

James let go of his friend, still laughing a little. He searched Sirius’ face and he was so relieved when he saw the light shining in those silver eyes once again. Sirius was smiling, checking himself through a well polished glass to fix his makeup and the strands of hair framing his temples. James would have done anything to brighten his best friend’s mood, and he was proud of himself for almost always managing to do just that.

“Come on, Sirius. Our parents are looking for you everywhere.” Regulus exhaled, exhausted. He barely noticed that something was off behind his brother’s smile. Still, he noticed. Regulus could never let his guard down when it came to Sirius. “Is everything alright?”

"Brilliant." Sirius’ reply came maybe a little too quickly, a little too defensively. Regulus held his breath, getting suspicious, but Sirius’ smile didn’t face. “Everything is brilliant, petit etoile”

☆☆☆

Regulus didn’t like being lied to, especially by Sirius. They went over the issue thousands of times, and they mutually agreed to never lie to each other. Yet Sirius always managed to break his promises one way or another. Regulus didn’t want to pressure his brother, and he never blamed him for his elusive behaviour. Still, it was frustrating and it hurt. It hurt trying so hard, just to get lie after lie as a reward. It hurt worrying so much about his brother’s well being, just to be brushed off like he was stupid or something. And it was genuinely scary not knowing exactly what was going on inside Sirius’ troubled mind.

The night was already going in a crooked direction without Sirius acting like a mysterious prick, but at least Regulus was glad to see that James was invited to the Gala. After digging deeper into the photographer’s artistic attitude, it was nice to see that his talent was being recognized by the higher ups of the fashion industry. Knowing that hard work could actually bring in results was comforting to Regulus, even though he didn’t like to get his hopes too high. Regulus was just genuinely happy for James.

Sirius was quickly stolen away by his parents, as usual, but Regulus wasn’t left alone this time around. He couldn’t help a thin, almost unnoticeable smile when James offered him a glass of champagne and the perspective of a less boring night.

“Sirius told me Gala nights were boring, but damn it-” James exhaled, nudging Regulus a little. “I wasn’t expecting it to be this boring. At least I get to spend some time with a friend like you, Reggie.”

Regulus frowned at the nickname, but for once he didn’t protest. He too was grateful for being allowed to spend some time with someone he considered a friend, rather than be forced to lay down in a corner the whole time, making himself small and unnoticeable. His parents didn’t have the patience to deal with both their sons, especially when Sirius was for all intents and purposes an overgrown, bratty toddler who needed to be constantly put in line.

“Some people find the mundanity of it enjoyable.” Regulus shrugged, whirling the champagne in his glass. “This industry can get chaotic and exhausting. Sometimes a slow, pointless event is a welcomed relief.”

“Are you enjoying yourself?” James asked distrantly, as if he already knew the answer. “Despite how you present yourself, I know all this prim and proper politeness bores you as well. You’re a little rebel at heart.”

“If there ever was rebelness running in my family’s DNA, then Sirius took it all.” Regulus took a bitter sip of champagne. “I’m just as boring as one can be, so I actually fit kinda well in here.”

“You try so hard to be boring that you’re actually making yourself more interesting to talk to.” James let out a muffled chuckle, almost choking on his champagne. “Does that make sense?”

“No.” Regulus shook his head, swallowing the warm feeling James’ word ignited in him. “But nothing ever makes sense when it comes to you.”

James tilted his head. “I take that as a compliment.” He clicked his tongue amusedly, stealing some side glances at the younger Black.

All things considered, the night was going rather smoothly for Regulus. He wasn’t too bored, but there wasn’t anything too crazy going on either. It was a quiet event, with nice classical music playing in the background, and the food and beverages were good. For once Regulus could relax, drink a little without feeling the obligation of staying sober for his brother’s sake, and just talk with a friend like a normal person. 

But nothing good ever lasted for the Black family. Regulus was doomed to carry the surname, so he should have been ready for things to go downhill at any moment. Yet he found himself taken aback when Bellatrix came bursting inside the main hall of the venue screaming like a maniac in front of everyone, waving a magazine in her hand.

“SHAMELESS!” Bellatrix shouted so loudly that everyone immediately fell silent. Her heels clicked hard on the marble floor as she sprinted towards Sirius with a murderous look on her scrunched up face. “AREN’T YOU JUST SHAMELESS!” She pushed Sirius in the chest, her manicured long nails digging in between the delicate seams of his bustier.

Sirius was speechless, shocked by the sudden assault. He stumbled back against one of the refreshment tables, knocking a couple displays of salmon tartare down. Regulus was frozen in place, too terrified to do anything as his brother just took their cousin’s blows helplessly. It took a second for Sirius to enter defense mode; but when adrenaline finally kicked it, he fought back with no restraints. He pushed Bellatrix off of himself with a guttural growl, grinding his teeth like a wild animal. 

“What the fuck, Bella!” Sirius hissed, clenching his fists and hunching his shaking shoulders in a wary position.

Sirius’ first instinct was to strike back and hit her in the face, but he quickly noticed his parents' cold, angry gaze on him and he had to restrain himself. Sirius hesitated just for a second and it was enough for Bellatrix to strike again, clawing at his hair.

“Rodolphus, contain your wife!” Orion howled with the lowest, darkest voice, his face completely red with fury and disappointment. 

Sirius flinched when Rodolphus grabbed Bellatrix’s arms, his fists clenching around her thin wrists a little too hard. She didn’t seem to bulge, fighting off her husband as if hurting Sirius was her sole objective in life. The other guests walked as far away from the scene as they could, but they stayed close enough to get a nice view of the breakdown. The Blacks were the stars of the freak show, the unwilling butt of the joke to entertain an extremely bored and judging audience. Regulus and James were the only ones walking in the opposite direction, getting right besides Sirius, holding him still as he shook in fear and anger .

“What is going on, Bella?” Walburga hissed like a snake, trying and failing to keep her voice down. “What did Sirius do?” Her sharp gaze darted from her raging niece, to his disdained son.

“Look at this, aunt!” Bellatrix roared, elbowing her husband until he gave up and let her go, not after leaving reddening marks around her pale arms. She waved the magazine she carried in front of Walburga’s face. “Look at what he did!”

Sirius stiffened, squeezed in between his brother and his best friend. A worried wheeze escaped James, hoping his suspicions about what could be in the magazine were wrong. They could only watch helplessly as Walburga tore the magazine from Bellatrix’s hands. She flipped the pages hurriedly, her face turning darker and more disgusted with each painfully dragged second. 

“Sirius, you-” Walburga sucked in a scream, the veins in her tight neck swelling horrifyingly. Her face turned pale and wrinkly, as if what she saw in the magazine had stolen at least ten years of her life. “Could you sink any lower!?” She spat, shooting deadly darts at his eldest son with her gaze.

All the colors drained from Sirius’ face in an instant as he scrutinized the magazine, trying to catch a glimpse of the incriminated article through his mother’s prying fingers. He couldn’t see much, but the outlines of the paparazzi pictures were enough to make Sirius realize that the situation was desperate . He lowered his gaze, squeezing his brother’s hand too tightly. His unusual, sudden submissive behavior betrayed guilt and shame, though Regulus couldn’t grasp what could have Sirius done to cause such an overdramatic, public scene.

“What is going on?” Orion asked in a cold, calculated voice. 

Their father was angry before even knowing. Regulus’ heart broke a little when he noticed the way Sirius was trembling in anticipation, despite the firmness in his gaze. Orion was a master in controlling his emotions, but he was terrifying when he was enraged. Regulus had always been afraid of his father, though he gladly never had to experience the full physical extent of his wrath. Sirius did, though, many times. And so, when Walburga handed her husband the magazine, Sirius took a desperate step back, trying to find an escape route. He bumped into the buffet table again, and he realized that he was trapped. Regulus was holding his breath until he turned purple, his innocent eyes searching Sirius’ for answers. 

Orion flapped the magazine pages with an unreadable, stern look. All the muscles on his face were tense, his jaw tightly squeezed shut, but otherwise he looked deadly calm. The Black patriarch took an uncomfortable amount of time to register the things he found in the magazine, his eye twitching imperceptibly when he looked at some particularly disgusting images.

“Very well.” Orion exhaled, crushing the magazine in his fists. The sound of paper crushing and ripping dragged a guilty whine out of Sirius and Regulus, too, began shaking in fear and confusion. “Walburga, I believe it is time for us to go. Pick our sons, I’ll call the driver and I’ll be waiting in the car outside. We’ll deal with this… situation in private.” He spoke with no emphasis, no emotions; and he just left like that, taking the magazine with him.

Walburga quickly regained her superficial composure, though her face was still bizarrely red. She offered the other guests a polite, fake smile and she apologized for the inconvenience that her niece caused. Then, she grabbed Regulus’ arm and she half carried him away. Walburga didn’t even spare her eldest son a glance; she knew he would follow anyway, especially if she had Regulus in her grasp, and she wasn’t about to acknowledge him if she didn’t need to. Just thinking about Sirius in that moment made her want to commit actual crimes. And although she believed she would have had all the rights to murder her dirty, disappointing offspring right there and then, she also knew that the law and the witnesses wouldn’t be on her side. So she left the party, knowing that her pathetic dog of a son would crawl inside the car on his own with the tail between his legs.

Sirius’ legs were moving on their own. His brain stopped working the moment his father put his eyes on the magazine, and he kept going on autopilot. He ignored James’ timid questions, barely even registering his best friend’s worries. Bellatrix still looked like she wanted to rip the skin off his face, though Rodolphus was ready to restrain her if needed. Sirius would have rather died by his cousin’s hands, than be forced to withstand his parents’ punishment that was to come. 

☆☆☆

The ride back home was awfully quiet. Orion and Walburga weren’t trying to hide their anger any longer, but they didn’t speak a single word while in the car. Regulus and Sirius sat in silence as well, only communicating through stolen glances that spoke louder than a thousand questions. What did you do? Regulus swallowed, terrified, finding only even more fear in his big brother’s eyes. Sirius, who always acted strong and mighty for his petit etoile , was looking guilty and broken just like that damned night, five years prior. I’m sorry. Sirius’ eyes were filled with unshed tears. Regulus didn’t want to relive that night all over again. It was his worst nightmare unfolding all over again .

Orion didn’t even give the driver enough time to park properly. He got out of the car as soon as they reached the front porch of their multi million mansion just outside of London, draggin his eldest son out by his hair. Sirius didn’t try to fight back or protest, he just hissed when his father dug his nails into his scalp. Regulus stumbled out of the car in a hurry, his breath shaky, in a desperate attempt to stay close to Sirius, but Walburga held him close to her almost protectively. Before Regulus could do anything, Orion kicked the front door open and he shoved Sirius inside, growling like a beast. Sirius fell on the floor as if he had no energy left, crawling into the house on all fours. 

“Are you proud of yourself? Disgusting, filthy waste of my flesh!” Orion yelled, which was something he never did. “I can handle you being a braindead addict, I can handle you being an overgrown spoiled child that can’t be left on his own even for a second, but now you’ve surpassed all limits. A queer! A pervert, that’s all you are!” The patriarch of the Black family never yelled, he let his wife do the verbal punishments while he handled the rest. But he was screaming with all his might as he violently threw the torn magazine at his crawling son, hitting him right in the face.

Sirius inhaled sharply, holding back tears. He didn’t want to look at the magazine, he didn’t want to look at the pictures, he didn’t want to acknowledge the shame of his errors. Walburga carried her younger son inside and she tried to push him into his room and spare him the tragedy that was about to unfold, but Regulus didn’t budge. 

“Have you no respect for your family?! For yourself, at the very least!” Walburga yelled, but she didn’t dare get close to her husband and eldest son. “You’re such an egoist, so full of yourself, yet you disregard your dignity and ravel in rubbish like you’re some common putain -”

“That’s what he is, isn’t it true?” Orion assaulted Sirius’ scalp again, grabbing a fistful of his hair and slamming his head on the floor, right next to the magazine. Sirius could see the outline of the incriminated pages through his peripheral view, like a cruel psychological torment. “A cheap whore! It’s not enough that you went with a queer, you had to choose a dirty, poor, useless parasite of society to defile you!”

“Father, mother, whatever it is I’m sure Sirius didn’t mean-” Regulus’ voice cracked pathetically. He squirmed off his mother’s grip and he was about to throw himself in between his father and his brother, but Orion pushed him to the side with effortless violence.

“Shut the hell up and go to your room, Regulus.” Orion spat, not even looking at him.

“What happened?” Regulus cried out. His gaze wandered from his mother, to his trembling brother, to his father, and back to his mother. “Mom, what did Sirius do?”

“Don’t make me say it! I feel sick just by thinking about it.” Walburga snarled in disgust, side-eying Sirius as if he was a nasty stain on the floor. “Your brother did something unforgivable and it does not concern you, thank goodness. He committed a heinous act and you should not be worrying about him anymore from now on. Sirius is a shameful scum. Listen to your father and just go to your room, Regulus.”

“Go, Reggie.” Sirius coughed nervously, his mother’s words felt like rubbing salt on top of actual aching wounds. His throat clenched, trying to keep the words inside. But he spoke out nevertheless, his voice barely a pathetic whisper. “They’re right, I’m not worth it.” He spoke out for his baby brother. “Just go.”

“You worry about yourself.” Orion grabbed Sirius’ face, squeezing his jaw hard between his fingers. “You should be ashamed to be alive, the least you could do is keep your filthy mouth shut. You need to be taught a lesson. I’ll make you regret everything you ever did.” He raised his clenched fist, ready to strike. Sirius just closed his eyes and just waited for it to happen.

“Father, stop, please!” Regulus didn’t know where he found the courage to fight back, but he refused to keep his head down. He rushed by his brother’s side, terrified of his father’s wrath, but ready to withstand it.

“Regulus, just go to your room already!” Walburga yelled to the point of hurting her throat, reaching for her youngest. She struggled to carry Regulus away by his shirt, uselessly pulling at his sleeve despite her best efforts.

“No, please !” Regulus begged. He begged just like he begged that night, five years prior. He felt the same fear, the same terror. And he begged, for the first time in five years. He begged for Sirius, once again. Because, once again, he wasn’t willing to let his brother suffer. “Father, plea-”

But before Regulus could finish his plea, Orion brutally struck him in the face with an open palm. The loud smack echoed through the whole house, the walls reverberating in the aftershock. At first, it didn’t hurt. Regulus was too shocked, too unused to the feeling of physical abuse to even realize just how much his face burned. The world went silent, as if time had stopped. The ringing in Regulus’ ears was all he could focus on, even when pain slowly started surfacing. His cheek was hot and throbbing, and he could feel the bruise forming already in the shape of his father’s cruel hand. Everything was a blur, his brain was on fire. Regulus’ thoughts melted and twirled uncontrollably. For the first time ever, he took a blow from his father. Just one was enough to break something within his soul. Just one slap. Regulus blinked in disbelief, tears falling down his cheeks. One slap hurt so much, both on the skin and deep inside his heart. Regulus wondered how Sirius managed to deal with this kind of abuse all the time, since they were children. 

“Piece of shit-!” Sirius was up on his feet in less than a second. “Leave him the fuck alone!” he attacked his father with all the strength he had left, reaching with his shaky hands for his face, his neck, his eyes . 

It was relatively useless, as Orion was much stronger than his malnourished, tipsy son who was also dealing with some effects of withdrawal. The Black patriarch pushed Sirius off of himself with ease, throwing him against the wall. The thud was followed by an eerie crack, and Sirius found himself silently praying that he hadn’t broken a bone. It hurt all over and he was too angry to focus. He spat in his father's face, and it only gained him a ferocious backhanded slap. 

“Orion-” Walburga gagged apologetically, sounding much weaker than when she yelled at her sons on her own.

“Watch your mouth, Walburga.” Orion snapped back at his wife, his face contorting in a disappointed grimace. “Haven’t you done enough? Spineless woman, you’ve been babying Regulus too much, and now he talks back just like his brother.”

Regulus blinked in confusion as he heard his name. He wasn’t fully aware of the things going on around him. All he knew was that his face hurt and that his heart was beating too fast. He could hear screaming and loud thuds and cracks and slaps and he was too scared to move. Walburga looked at her youngest son with so much pity, as if he was a lost cause, just as much as her eldest.

“You lay a hand on Regulus one more time and I’m going to fucking kill you!” Sirius spat with so much hatred, his voice hoarse and muffled by the thick fistfull of blood coming from his split gengives that he swallowed by mistake.

“How dare you!” Walburga gasped at the brutality of her son’s words. “What have we done to deserve such a son! Filth! Scum!” She howled.

Orion gritted his teeth and he didn’t say anything for a long moment. He grabbed Sirius’ wrist when he tried to fight back and he slammed him against the wall. Orion’s fists clenched around his son’s bones, his long fingers leaving dark marks against Sirius’ sensitive skin. He felt Sirius’ cicatrixes maliciously, his thumbs pressing hard on the protruding and bulbous scar tissue. There was almost no flesh covering the articulation and Orion could snap his son’s wrist if only he clenched a little harder. He snarled at the mere thought, pleasured to see the horror in Sirius’ gaze as he realized what his father was thinking about.

“Walburga, drag Regulus to his room before I extend this punishment to you both.” Orion’s voice was firm, laced with twisted cruelty. He slammed Sirius on the floor, who let out a stammering cry of agony. “Sirius needs to be taught a proper lesson.”

Regulus wasn’t functioning. His brain wasn’t cooperating and the only thing he could do was just rocking himself back and forth. He heard a thud and he saw his big brother on the floor. Sirius was hurt, there was blood around his lips, but Regulus could only stare because his own face still hurt too much. The pain wasn’t going away, it only got worse each second. It spread through his limbs, lungs and it ached the most in his chest. One slap. And still Sirius was on the floor and there was blood around his lips. 

Regulus heard the cling and click of a belt being unbuckled and then the whooshing sound of leather sliding off trouser loops. His father was hovering over Sirius, brandishing his thick BLACK belt like a weapon. Regulus wanted to do something but his face hurt too much. Sirius was still on the floor mumbling something along the lines of no, please and Regulus wanted the pain to just go away. There was a battered magazine on the floor, too, right next to Sirius. Even through the pain, Regulus remembered the magazine was important. He managed to crawl and pick the damned magazine before Walburga picked him by the loose collar of his shirt, dragging him away. 

Regulus had no strength to fight off his mother as she threw him in his cold, dark room, slamming the door in his face. Sirius was screaming on the other side of the hallway. Regulus heard the horrible cracks of leather against skin. He clenched the magazine, holding onto the pages for dear life. His hands twitched with every crack and agonizing scream. Regulus flipped through the glossy pages, thick tears making his vision blurry, There were tons of pointless, frivolous articles about the latest Fashion Week, the newest trends, even some useless quizzes about zodiac signs and cosmetology. But then something finally caught Regulus’ attention: the infamous gossip article that started the absolute slaughter of his big brother. 

Fashion, Sex & Secrets: 

Famous Supermodel SIRIUS BLACK’s One-Night Stand Exposed

The article, signed by the well known gossip journalist Rita Skeeter, talked in length about Sirius’ one night stand with an unknown man with suspicious scars on his face. The paparazzi followed the couple in a fast food restaurant, then on the banks of the Thames and there were also pictures of them riding around town on Sirius’ motorbike. The most damning pictures depicted Sirius and the mystery guy snogging on a bench with too much passion. Mouth in mouth. Lips stretched around the other. Sirius screamed. Crack . There was blood around Sirius’ lips now. Regulus couldn’t hold the tears anymore and he sobbed.

Regulus tore the magazine to shreds, disintegrating every trace of it. He particularly enjoyed destroying Sirius’ face in each and every picture. He lied. His big brother lied. Sirius promised to never lie, he promised to always be honest with Regulus. He promised they were a team, a duo. But he lied. Sirius lied, and he was screaming on the floor as a consequence. Regulus was angry, his face hurt, and for a second he thought that Orion’s punishment was deserved . Because Sirius went on a snogging date with the random seamster from Fashion Week and he didn’t tell Regulus. Even worse; he lied. Sirius lied, and Regulus told him many times that lies only brought pain. Crack . Scream . Regulus didn’t want Sirius to suffer, but it was the consequence of his stupid fucking actions. Regulus cried and his face only hurt more. His big brother screamed. Regulus just wanted it all to end.

☆☆☆

The punishment seemed to last an eternity. When Orion began tearing his son’s bodice off of him, Sirius knew he was done for. As the sound of fabric ripping filled the room, Sirius’ first thoughts went to Remus. He wondered what his beloved seamster would say if he saw the way Orion was treating such a pretty piece of clothing. The cold air hit Sirius’ skin mercilessly, and it was just a cruel taste of the violence that awaited him. He had no way to run, no way to escape his fate. Orion raised his hand, branding the leather belt. The pain that followed was unbearable. The first whack left a long mark along Sirius’ back, stealing his breath. It didn’t cut through the skin, but it bruised in a matter of seconds. Sirius screamed, collapsing on the floor. He didn’t even have time to fully register the pain, when his father struck again more violently. The second whack broke the skin superficially, crimson blood flowing down Sirius’ spine. The stinging was acute and intense, the insides of the fresh wound burned like hell. That throbbing ache exploded through his whole body as his father struck again. The longer the punishment, the more wounds became deep, bloody and painful. Sirius tried to dissociate into his own world while his body was being torn to pieces, but for some reason he couldn’t. His mind refused to leave and he stayed fully aware and conscious for every brutal crack . His father whipped his back at a cruel rhythm, adding pain onto pain, making the flogging even more inhumane than it needed to be. It wasn’t just about brutal discipline, it was something deeper, far more raw and sinister: it was about humiliation, it was about destroying Sirius’ rebelliousness at its core, by tearing his soul apart. Orion hit his son methodically; if he noticed a spot on Sirius’ back that wasn’t bruised or cut, he would whip there on purpose, until there wasn’t a single inch of untouched skin left on him. And Sirius tried to stay sane, he really did. He bit his tongue hard until he tasted blood, trying to suppress the screams. When the pain became too much, driving Sirius to the point of madness, he thought of Regulus. His baby brother was the only comfort he could find in between each crack and whack and scream.  

After countless hits and cuts, Orion finally dropped his weapon. The buckle of the belt clang on the ground announcing the end of the torture. Orion’ breathing was ragged and heavy and his forehead was damp with sweat. He stared down at Sirius with a twisted grin, his expression was a sick mix of triumph and disgust. Blood was dripping down Sirius’ back, little crimson droplets dotting the pristine white marble floor. Even though the flogging ended, Sirius didn't move. He couldn't move, it hurt too much and the emotional weight of what just happened was too much to bear.

“Be grateful that I didn’t use the buckle.” Orion physically spat on his son, the saliva burning as it hit a freshly opened wound. “As much as you deserve the pain, we still need you healthy enough to walk the damn runway.” 

Sirius let out a defeated chuckle. He tried to formulate a witty, provocative reply but he couldn’t speak. His body refused to react to the abuse, it just shut down submissively in self preservation. He curled up on himself involuntarily, mortified, ashamed of himself. With his father towering on top of him, Sirius felt so small, so helpless. 

“Stand up straight and be a man for once.” Orion barked bestially, grabbing his son’s forearm and dragging him upwards roughly. 

Sirius winced, his legs refusing to support him. He almost fell, stumbling on his feet like a whining newborn, but he locked his knees with what few strength he had left. Orion’s grip was painful, bruising, and he sadistically squeezed the bone until Sirius hissed.

“Who’s the guy you were- fraternizing with?” Orion asked with a harsh growl, shaking his son’s arm violently when he was given no answer. “The name, Sirius. Give me the wretched name.” He yelled, one particularly protruding vein on his forehead throbbing as if it was about to burst.

Sirius’ lips were sealed. He avoided his father’s burning gaze, staring at an old picture frame hanging on the wall. It was an old photo depicting Regulus’ third birthday, and it felt like a whole eternity before all that. Sirius was four and a half back then, small and innocent, mostly unabused and absolutely ecstatic to watch his baby brother blow his birthday candles on his own for the first time. Regulus got a chocolate cake for the occasion, and Sirius remembered vividly its taste. Sirius couldn’t even remember the last time he was allowed to eat a piece of cake, but his baby brother’s chocolate cake for his third birthday was one of his happiest core memories. Orion’s grip got even more bruising and demanding, dragging Sirius back to reality. The unwelcomed pain was a brutal warning, but Sirius still didn’t talk.

“It’s the seamster from Fashion Week.” Walburga intervened when she genuinely got scared that Orion was about to break their son’s arm; which would have been an inconvenience more than anything else.

“I know, Walburga.” Orion snapped, scoffing. “I remember his face. Those ugly scars are difficult to forget.” He remarked in a mocking tone, which made Sirius tense up defensively. 

“We must have his name registered somewhere, we just need to call Rodolphus and Rabastan.” Walburga massaged the bridge of her nose, then she tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear. The impeccable updo her stylist did for the gala was ruined from all the chaos that was unfolding.

“I was waiting to see if Sirius had learned his lesson and admit it himself, but apparently I keep overestimating him.” Orion grimaced in disgust, shoving Sirius back against the wall. “Call the Lestranges and tell them to track the bastard down.” He turned to face his wife with an inquisitorial, terrifyingly severe gaze. “Tell them to find him and deliver the message to never get near my son ever again. They can use whatever method they deem appropriate, just make sure that they get the message straight across.”

“Very well, husband.” 

“ Père, non… ” Sirius inhaled roughly, his whole body burning. He couldn't let them get to Remus, to his boyfriend, to his beloved. But he was in so much pain that he could barely stand on his feet.

“And you-” Orion uttered through gritted teeth, grabbing Sirius’ jaw violently. He dug his nails in his son’s cheeks, checking his face with evident disappointment. “God, you really have the face of a queer whore.” He snarled cruelly, squeezing Sirius’ jaw until he whimpered from how much it hurt. “You are no son of mine. I refuse to believe I produced a sick scum like you. Do you understand? I keep you around just because I own you, by contract, for at least one more year. And you will work your ass off to pay me back for every single pound I wasted on a disgusting pervert like you.” 

Sirius bit the insides of his mouth. He tasted blood, both from the injury his father’s hit caused to his gengives, and from new self inflicted scratches. He focused on the metallic flavour, the thick, warm poison running down his throat, and he had to resist the urge to spit it all back in his father’s face. But he was just too… afraid. He was in pain, and he felt so small wrapped in his father’s cruel hands. Sirius lowered his gaze, defeated.

Orion clicked his tongue, seizing his son’s shoulder, fingers digging inside the fresh bruises and cuts left from the flogging. Then he pushed Sirius into the hallway unceremoniously. “Now go to your room and stay there until I say so.”

Sirius tumbled on his knees, trying to find support by groping along the wall. He searched his mother’s deadly gaze, shivering at the sheer amount of hatred he found. “Maman…” He sobbed without even thinking. One single tear ran down his bruised cheek, burning like acid. “Maman, please…”

“Weren’t you listening?!” Walburga lashed out. She screamed, though her voice cracked and strained painfully as if she was trying to swallow down even more anger. “You are no son of ours anymore. Having given birth to you is my biggest regret.” She stared down at Sirius with bulging, blood filled eyes with no empathy, no mercy, no love . 

Something died inside Sirius at that very moment; something he didn’t even know was alive in the first place, it still died.

☆☆☆

Regulus counted the cracks of the belt and the screams. He tried to keep his mind occupied and he found a strange, sick comfort in the preciseness of his father’s beatings. The rhythmic, alternating pattern composed a macabre symphony of agony and betrayal that almost made Regulus feel like dancing. He was going crazy. Regulus hadn’t slept much the previous week; his brain, probably craving the relief of dreams, was slowly transmigrating into a parallel dimension. The lack of sleep made his every thought weaker and slower, but he didn’t care as long as he could find refuge in his own little sick fantasy. 

Whack, crack, scream. 

Just like a Victorian waltz in 3:4 times. 

1, 2, 3. Whack, crack, scream. 1, 2, 3. Whack, crack, scream .

Regulus began humming to himself. He bumped his head against the door of his room following the steady rhythm. At each scream from Sirius, Regulus slammed his head a little harder, so that he too could share a little bit of pain with his big brother. Regulus was slowly losing control of his body. Fear, guilt and resentment began mixing in a confusing cacophony throbbing in his heart. Then, all of a sudden, the waltz of torture ended and there was silence.

For a moment, Regulus desperately missed the chaos. The emptiness of silence offered him no distraction, no way out of his own wicked thoughts. Everything became darker, more suffocating, and Regulus was so alone. At least when Sirius was screaming, Regulus felt a little bit closer to him. But in the silence, he was utterly alone. 

Creak.

The anteroom door opened slowly. It creaked unusually loud, as if a dead weight was hanging from the handle and dragging the edge of the wood down against the cold floor. Regulus recognized his brother from just one shaky, pained breath. It was horrifying and unfair that Regulus had to learn exactly how Sirius sounded when he was in agony from a young age. To be fair, brothers are supposed to be an extension of each other, or at least that was what Sirius used to tell him when they were little. Regulus jumped up to his feet in a second, reaching for his big brother, though he had to stop himself in shock.

Sirius looked so broken. He was bruised all over and he was bleeding . Regulus gasped at the sight, his hands shaking mid air. He wanted to hug his big brother tightly. He wanted to hold him and protect him from all the bad things in the world, but as usual it was too late. Instead, Regulus simply held his brother’s hand and he guided him towards his bed. Sirius groaned in pain and he dragged himself to his bed with uncertain, unsteady steps. 

“Is everything alright?” Regulus asked carefully, keeping his voice low, gentle and warm. 

Sirius was so numb and dazed that he barely even acknowledged his brother’s presence. He breathed stammeringly and he simply nodded, not really understanding the question: he was, in fact, far from alright. Everything hurt, his beaten muscles were throbbing painfully, and he was hungry and cold. Regulus bit down a sigh, though he knew better than to push Sirius beyond his limits. He simply helped lay his big brother on the bed, carefully tucking him inside the soft sheets. Sirius buried his face into the pillow and he began bawling until his eyes were unbearably dry. 

Regulus found himself in a too terrifyingly familiar position. His big brother was hurt and for the first time in too long he was crying. Sirius didn’t cry easily, Regulus couldn’t even remember if Sirius actually cried that night five years prior. It was a pitiful and scary sight.

Determined to make things better, Regulus examined Sirius’ injuries with a twisted frown. The cuts and scratches didn’t worry Regulus too much, as none were too deep to actually leave scare, but the bruising was an immediate concern. Orion used a rather thick and large belt, which gladly didn’t provide enough edge and speed to leave deep gashes, but it provided more than enough blunt force to cause severe traumas beneath the skin. Sirius’ back was blemished in all kinds of colors: some spots were turning a greenish shade of yellow, other spots were crimson red with abrasions, but most spots were already fully purple and black. Regulus inhaled sharply when he dared lightly touch one of the most concerning bruises, noticing just how tender and swollen the skin was. It felt like touching a decomposing corpse, if it wasn’t for Sirius’ muffled scream and violent flinch.

Regulus scrubbed his face in his hands, wiping off tears and tension. He rushed to their shared bathroom, where Sirius had a cabinet compartment all for himself where he stored all kinds of medications that Regulus wasn’t even allowed to look at. With the long history of abuse that Sirius had been suffering since he was a child, Regulus knew he had to find at least something in there that could help with the bruising. Inside he found a bunch of blisters of pills without their box, no instructions in sight. Just tons of half emptied packages and unlabeled plastic jars filled with big, colorful tablets. Regulus began ravaging through the cabinet trying to find something useful. He found a strange pen, one that reminded him of an epipen, but not exactly. Sirius didn’t have severe allergies, and the thing looked rather suspiciously similar to the medication uncle Arphald had to take to keep his diabetes under control. Regulus clenched his jaw and he ignored it, just like he ignored the unlabeled pills, and he focused on the bunch of ointments and gels stuffed in the back of the cabinet. He tossed to the side the fat reducing ones, until he found two half used tubes of ointment labeled for bruises and contusions. He took both, plus a bottle of antiseptic and a roll of medical gauze, and he rushed back to his aching big brother.

“Sirius, I need to clean the cuts…” Regulus whispered, caressing his big brother’s sweaty curls. Sirius flinched a little, hugging his pillow tighter, but he didn’t protest. “It’s going to hurt a little, I’m sorry…”

An apology didn’t definitely feel like enough for the pain that Sirius was about to feel, but Regulus couldn’t afford feeling guilty at the moment. He carefully dabbed his brother’s injuries with antiseptic, trying to ignore the way Sirius wailed at every painful touch. The antiseptic sunk inside the cuts, bubbling and fizzing, digging out blood until the skin was clean and starting to heal a little. Sirius tried his best not to move, and he bit out the screams that threatened to escape his throat, and in the end he managed to survive this second round of necessary torture . It felt cruel, having to force his brother to go through even more pain instead of just letting him rest, but Regulus gritted his teeth and he proceeded.

“Sirius, which one is better for the bruises?” Regulus massaged the back of his brother’s name and he showed him the two tubes of ointments; one was labeled ‘arnicare’ and the other ‘hirudoid’. Sirius didn’t even lift his face from the pillow, he just attempted a pained, defeated shrug, groaning. “I’m going for arnicare, it seems more appropriate from the instructions…” Regulus sighed, shoving the leaflet to the side. 

With the utmost care, Regulus spread the ointment across Sirius’ back, careful not to tantalize the slowly healing cuts. It was a tedious and heartbreaking process. Sirius cried a little louder every time Regulus pressed a little too hard on a particularly aching bruise, which only made the ordeal feel even more dehumanizing for the both of them. Sirius’ pillow was damp with tears and saliva from each time he bit into it to suppress a scream. The pain almost knocked him out for good, but somehow he managed to stay awake and rather conscious for the whole process. Regulus didn’t know whether to be grateful for that or not. To be honest, it would have been better if Sirius had managed to slip away for a little and be denied any more additional pain.

After he was done spreading the ointment, Regulus carefully wrapped his brother’s back with the roll of graze. Sirius tried to resist at first when Regulus asked him to try and lift himself up a little bit , but of course he complied to the best of his abilities. Despite the pain, Sirius managed to lock his forearms into the mattress and he arched his back just enough to allow his brother to slide his arm underneath his stomach to wrap his torso. Regulus tried to be as fast as possible, and the fact that Sirius was unhealthy skinny helped with that, since there wasn’t much surface to wrap in the first place. 

“All done.” Regulus sighed, exhausted, as he knotted the end of the graze tightly. He laid beside Sirius, curling up between the sheets, his eyes searching his brother’s face.

Sirius fell onto the mattress and he felt miserable. He sobbed and wailed like a scared puppy, shaking all over. It took a while for him to calm down. He caught his breathing with some difficulty, rubbing his face against the pillow case. Regulus watched him carefully, a little unsure of what to do. When Sirius was finally aware enough, he stared at his baby brother with so much anguish. Sirius winced in pain as he brought a hand to Regulus’s puffy red face and he caressed the bruise left by their father with his thumb.

“Does it hurt..?” Sirius asked with an unsteady tone, frowning miserably. His touch was light and gentle, though Regulus flinched back a little at the unexpected contact.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Regulus sobbed silently, ignoring the question. His chest clenched when Sirius let out a strained cry. “Why did you lie to me about going on a date with Remus?” He cried with his big brother.

Regulus didn’t know the full extent of the physical damage that was done to Sirius, so he didn’t know where to touch without hurting him. Hence, he just scratched the back of his big brother’s head, finding that gentle spot behind his ear that always made Sirius feel at ease.

“I didn’t want you to worry.” Sirius whined in pain and sorrow, smearing tears, drool and snot on his pillowcase.

Regulus frowned, swallowing his underlying resentment and pride. “I am worried now.” He blurted a little too coldly, a little too roughly. He didn’t mean to sound angry, although, deep down, he was. 

“‘m sorry…” Sirius buried his face deep inside the pillow, letting the soft padding suffocate him. He held on until he truly couldn’t breathe any longer, then his damned survival instinct kicked in and he had to save himself. He inhaled sharply and the sudden movement sent aching shocks to his afflicted brain. “‘m sorry!”

“Don’t do this again.” Regulus gritted his teeth, snuggling into his big brother’s arms as if battered, bruised and sobbing Sirius would single handedly keep them both safe. “ Please , don’t do this ever again.”

“I won’t…” Sirius groaned. Despite how much he wanted to hug his brother back, he just couldn’t move without feeling like his whole body was about to crumble. His chest hurt with each sob he failed to contain. “‘m sorry, Reggie. Don’t be mad…”

“‘m not.” Regulus lied , biting his tongue. He lied, just like his brother lied. Because he was mad. He was furious at Sirius for giving his parents a reason to hurt him, for being too stubborn and for being a liar. So, Regulus lied. Because the promise was broken, and he was scared. “Go to sleep now… I’m here.”

Sirius let out a little, vulnerable chuckle. He attempted a crooked, pained smile, but his body didn’t move. He was just so tired, so hurt, he was struggling to focus. “Love you…” Sirius murmured, staring blissfully through teary eyes at his baby brother’s blurred face.

“Love you, too.” Regulus whispered into his big brother’s ear, just like a lullaby, right before Sirius fell asleep. 

It wasn’t exactly a lie: Regulus did love his brother, more than anything. Though, watching him get hurt for being reckless almost made him hate him.

Chapter Text

Sirius didn’t really sleep the night after the punishment. He kept drifting in and out of consciousness for hours, but whenever he managed to close his eyes and rest he wasn't exactly sleeping. It would be more correct to say that he was dying temporarily, his soul abandonding the body for a blissful fraction of a second before being shoved back inside because, for fuck’s sake, Sirius wasn’t ready to pass away so easily.

The next day was a rather sunny day. Which, considering the time of the year, was a true miracle in London. A ray of sun filtered through the curtains and kissed Sirius’ face, startling him awake earlier than he was used to. A thick, crusty layer of dried tears sealed his eyelids shut and Sirius had to rub his face roughly to finally scrape most of it off. He tried to roll to the side but even the slightest movement caused him to flinch in pain, though he was feeling much better than he did the night before. Sirius slowly and carefully lifted himself up, fixing the graze above his abdomen. He fluttered his eyelashes, struggling to focus after a whole night of half conscious sobbing. Regulus was still peacefully sleeping, curled up in sheets stained with blood, antiseptic and spilled ointment. Sirius couldn’t help but smile to himself, staring at his baby brother’s innocent sleeping face for a long while. Regulus’ breathing was soft and gentle, his constantly frowned brows were relaxed and he imperceptibly and unconsciously brushed his face against the pillow; it was as if nothing bad ever happened.

The brotherly bond that linked them was always a source of comfort for Sirius, and he was grateful to have such a resourceful, kind baby brother. Regulus would have had every right to hate Sirius for all the abuse he had to passively go through because of him, instead he was always there to patch him up and sleep beside him as if they were still children. Sirius reached for Regulus' face, his fingertips slightly grazing the younger’s cheekbones and soft curls. Regulus didn’t stir, lost in hopefully positive, lovely and worryless dreams. 

Sirius did his best to tuck his baby brother more comfortably in between the bed covers. With his aching back, it turned out to be more difficult than expected, but he still wanted to try. He wanted to care for Regulus, just like Regulus cared for him; especially since Sirius felt like it was his duty as the big brother to do all the cherishing and protecting, and not the other way around. Regulus was probably too exhausted from weeks of not sleeping properly, so he didn’t wake up even when Sirius kept janking at the bedcovers because he lacked any strength in his bruised arms and shoulders. Once he was happy with the way he managed to nest Regulus in bed, Sirius got up with a pained groan and he headed for the bathroom. 

The white bathroom tiles felt cold and aseptic compared to the grungy, familiar decor in Sirius’ room; though, in that moment, Sirius found the boredness of it grounding. He stumbled against the sink and he drowned his face under the flow of icy water, scrubbing the crusts of dried tears and drool. When Sirius looked at himself in the mirror, water dripping down his chin, nose and loose strands of hair, the man that stared back at him was beyond miserable. He looked like a dried prune, his cheeks sunken in an inwards curve, skin so tight against his squared cheekbones that he almost looked like a greyish skeleton. There was no color on his face, save from the huge black bruise on the side of his face where his father had slapped him. To think that his parents were always careful not to leave any visible traces of abuse on Sirius, since they had to parade him like an object. The punishment that was furious, unrestrained, lawless, brutal. Sirius refused to cry one more pathetic tear. There was no life in his irises, no warmth. The dark circles under his eyes somehow bleed all the way down his cheeks, and he almost looked purple all over. There was a gash in the corner of his mouth that probably stopped bleeding just moments before he woke up. The whole night of crying left his lips swollen and dry, to the point that they could break if only Sirius smiled too widely. But Sirius didn’t feel like smiling at all. He stared back at himself with a distant, disgusted grimace, almost as if he was looking at a stranger. What a pitiful, wretched, ugly sight for sore eyes he was. A beaten, starved, aching shell of himself, fueled only by spite for the whole world. Sirius pinched his unbruised cheek, trying to find some substance, but there was hardly anything in there. 

Sirius let out a strained laugh, shaking his head in defeat. He angrily picked up his hairbrush and he began assaulting his scalp, despite Marlene having told him repeatedly not to brush out his curls when his hair was dry. He needed to detangle the tight, uncomfortable knots that formed in the back of his head when his father buried his fist in his hair and yanked and dragged him around with little to no care for his beautiful, fragile curls. The knot, mixed with dried sweat, was particularly difficult to get a hold off and Sirius kept tugging and pulling until his head hurt at least as much as the rest of his body. By the time he was done, the hairbrush was a mess. Whole chunks of hair had fallen off Sirius’ scalps, even some entire curls that were still holding their shape as Sirius drained them down the sink. The unfortunate combination of careless yanking and malnutrition had rendered Sirius’ scalp particularly weak, and now he had tiny bald spots in the back of his head that he prayed could be covered up once his hair was washed and defined the way only Marlene knew.

As if a new set of injuries on his back wasn’t enough. Sirius scoffed, more annoyed at the damages done to his image than anything else. He was used to the pain, he was used to humiliation, he was used to feeling like he was less than a discarded rag; but he wasn’t used to feeling as ugly as he did, both outside and inside. He cracked his neck, feeling the reassessment of his spine through every overstimulated nerve of his body. 

Sirius looked at himself in the mirror again and he could only snarl at himself. Pathetic, he thought. He rummaged through the unabled blisters and plastic jars of pills in his personal medication cabinet and he shoved a couple of painkillers down his throat. Sirius could hear James’ voice in the back of his head, reprimanding him from taking too much paracetamol without eating anything first, but for his own sake he decided to ignore it. After being whipped like a criminal in the Middle Ages, Sirius deserved the relief. 

“What did you take?” Regulus’ voice came suddenly from the bathroom door. His voice sounded rough and worried, and he yawned with his mouth wide open as he rubbed his eyes. 

“Good morning, Reggie.” Sirius hummed, flashing his baby brother a strained, yet loving smile. “‘s nothing. Some paracetamol for the pain.” 

“You’ve got quite the armament inside that cabinet.”  Regulus rested his shoulder on the door frame, looking at Sirius with unreadable eyes. He looked distant and worried at the same time, as if his heart was torn in two.

“And you got quite the nerve looking where you shouldn’t, nosy snooper.” Sirius rolled his eyes, shutting the cabinet close with a loud thud.

“Oh, I’m sorry, the next time I’ll leave you to bleed until you get an infection and die.” Regulus spat angrily, his voice cracking a little. Sirius noticed that his brother’s clenched fists were shaking. “Move now, I need to brush my teeth.” Regulus walked towards the sink, avoiding his brother’s apologetic gaze.

“No, hey-” Sirius bit the insides of his mouth as he grasped the weight of Regulus’ words. The night before, Sirius was too knocked out from the pain and he remembered little to nothing from the time his father started the whipping, till the moment he woke up. The pitiful sight of sorrow in his baby brother’s eyes, though, was enough to shake Sirius’ insides. “I’m sorry, Reggie. I’m sorry you had to go through all that for me.”

“No, Sirius, I am sorry.” Regulus quivered, squeezing the toothpaste tube in his hand. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all that. Father was- horrible. Beyond horrible, I can’t even…” His ribcage contracted and tensed, squeezing his lungs and crushing his heart. “Sirius, I had to listen to your screams and I didn’t know what to do.”

Sirius didn’t know what to do either. He wanted to hug his baby brother tightly and chase the monsters away, but Sirius was in no shape to act all mighty and strong. Regulus was all grown up and he was much braver and more vigorous than his big brother, he definitely didn’t need a hug to overcome his worries. So, powerless and drained, Sirius sat on the toilet seat, staring ahead and hugging himself miserably.

“I would do anything to take this pain from you, Regulus.” Sirius sighed, digging his nails inside the skin of his arms. He forced himself to look at Regulus, to feel his brother’s pain deep inside his stomach. He shook his head remorsefully, almost missing the pain that the paracetamol attenuated. “I mean it, if I could bring it upon myself-”

“Damn it, Sirius, I don’t want you to suffer!” Regulus shrieked, squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his jaw tightly. “I don’t understand how you can look at me like that and say that you want to take my pain. I'm not some helpless bystander. I'm your brother, and I can't just sit back and pretend everything's okay when you're being torn apart!”

The bathroom was silent for a while after that. Sirius didn’t give in to the instinct of looking away and hiding in his own thoughts, instead he stared religiously at his brother as he nervously brushed his teeth. Regulus scraped his gengives until they bled and he spat into the sink imagining that he was spatting in his father’s face instead. As he watched the mix of spit and blood curl down the drain he clenched the edge of the sink to ground himself.

“Was he worth it at least?” Regulus cracked quietly, hunching his shoulders a little. “That Remus, I mean. You haven’t even told me anything about your stupid date. Was he good enough to you to make all of this acceptable?” 

Sirius didn’t hesitate: he nodded slowly and he couldn’t help but smile. The throbbing ache in between his shoulder blades didn’t scare the thought of Remus’ gentle hands off of Sirius’ mind. The burning sting of freshly torn skin rubbing against the graze felt one hundred percent worth it when compared to Remus’ kisses. Even the pain and humiliation Sirius felt deep within his heart seemed more bearable, if the reward was having smart, kind, talented Remus as a boyfriend.

“I love him so much, Reggie.” Sirius giggled weakly, silver eyes glimmering at the mere thought of his first kiss with Remus. “He’s so good to me, much more than I deserve. I don’t care what our parents say, I miss him and I want to be with him more than anything.” Sirius was convinced that Remus’ soft lips could heal all his injuries and bruises instantly. 

Regulus snorted in genuine disbelief, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked at Sirius, then at his own reflection in the mirror, seeking an actual grip on reality. Regulus couldn’t believe just how childish and naive his big brother could be. The same big brother who raised him to be overly conscious of people, who taught him to be wary, who was overprotective to the point of being almost unbearable at times; that same big brother was willing to disregard all of his principles when it came to himself. 

“You barely know him.” Regulus hissed, slamming a hand against the edge of the sink. Sirius’ screams still echoed vividly in the back of his head, as if the punishment of the previous night never ended. “Sirius, I don’t want to see you hurt ever again. This won’t end well, he’s going to make you miserable-”

“He makes me happy!” Sirius whined defensively.

“It’s his fault father abused you!” Regulus snapped bitterly, digging his hand into his messy, raven curls.

“It’s not his fault, shut it!” Sirius jumped on his feet aggressively, gritting his teeth and ignoring the sharp, intense pain that shot through the length of his spine. “If anything that’s my fault, I should have been more careful.” He lowered his head, feeling rather guilty. The idea that the fault was Orion’s alone, for being a violent, cruel abuser, didn’t even brush the two traumatized brother’s minds. “Remus wouldn’t wish me any harm, he’s too kind and he loves me!”

Regulus shook his head; every overly positive and foolishly lovely word Sirius said about Remus only fueled Regulus’ distrust and resentment. “You’re delusional.”

“And you can be a real little shit when you want to.” Sirius spat, without even thinking.

Regulus stumbled backwards, just one step. He clenched his chest, as if his big brother’s words hit him like a bullet straight to his heart. After everything they shared, after bearing each other’s pain, they still always ended up hurting each other even more. 

“Fuck you, Sirius.” Regulus rasped, feeling a twisted sense of accomplishment when saw the way his brother frowned at the insult.

“No, fuck you!” Sirius retaliated, having opened a crack in the dam of his thoughts. “For fuck’s sake, I’ve found someone who treats me right, who cares about my feelings and who touches me with so much care. Why can’t you be there for me now that I’m happy?!”

“I am always there for you, Sirius!” Regulus exploded, looking at Sirius with a desperate flame in his eyes. “I am the one who’s been scooping you off the floor since we were children, I am the one who washes the blood off of you whenever you get hurt! Because I love you, more than anything!” He was on the verge of ugly crying, his anger mixing with the utmost desperation. “I care about you much more than any random seamster you just met ever could, and I won’t let you get yourself destroyed because you can’t keep it in your pants and you can’t stop provoking our parents!”

“Why can’t I aspire for more?!” Sirius screamed, his torso contorting in pain as every single unhealed cut and bruise hurt at the sudden, violent outburst. “Do you want me to be stuck inside this damn house for the rest of my fucking life? I refuse to! I love you too, Reggie, and you fucking know that but fuck-” Sirius inhaled sharply, each stammering breath making the pain worse. “Fuck, maybe I just want some fucking prince in a fucking shining armor to take me far away from here, and I don’t care how stupid that sounds.” His voice cracked pathetically. “This is not enough anymore, Regulus. I want more, and I’m willing to suffer if that’s what it will take for me to get a chance to be happy for once.”

Regulus felt the urge to finish what his father started and beat some sense into his brother’s hollow head. It was a quick, terrifying, unwanted thought, but still Regulus felt it. He felt the rage build up in his clenched fists and he had to actually talk himself down before he did something he would have regretted his whole life. Sirius had that power on people, he managed to awaken the best and worst side of everyone who dared talk to him. Once again, Regulus found himself wondering for a split moment if Sirius actually deserved the abuse. If Sirius deserved to be taught some manners and some common sense through violence, since he didn’t seem to understand with just some peaceful talking. Even just thinking about it was horrifying. The mere idea of hurting his brother made Regulus want to retch, but sometimes he couldn’t help himself but fantasize about it. Maybe he was just like his father, maybe his mother’s mobbing made it so that Regulus was desensitized to the abuse he had to witness. Maybe their family was all messed up and Sirius was the only Black worth saving. Regulus was so ashamed of himself.

Maybe Sirius was right in wanting more. He deserved the universe, after all. He definitely deserved more than a bunch of family members who shared in their blood the uncontrollable desire of hurting him in every way possible. Regulus felt just as broken as his parents, just as ruined and monstrous. Of course he wasn’t enough for Sirius, and he was never going to be because Regulus was fundamentally as disgusting as the rest of the family: angry, violent and unsatisfied with life itself. Regulus ignored the urgent need to hurt and he remembered Sirius’ helpless screams. He remembered all the times Sirius was hurt, all the times Sirius was abused, and Regulus blamed himself for it all. Of course, Sirius deserved more than that.

“I’m sorry.” Regulus apologized, unspoken guilt eating him alive. His eyes met Sirius’ and he felt like a lost, scared child. His big brother was everything to him, his hero, his dearest person. Regulus couldn’t believe he could even fathom the idea of hurting him, of all people. His big brother. “Sorry I-” Regulus suppressed a sob, reaching for his brother. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”

“No, Reggie, you were right.” Sirius softened and he hugged his baby brother tightly. Regulus reciprocated the embrace, careful not to touch Sirius’ wounded back. “I am the ungrateful little shit. If it wasn’t for you I would have been dead by now. You saved me so many times and I have no right to scream at you like that.” Sirius cradled Regulus as if he was a child, completely unaware of the emotional turmoil that flooded the younger’s mind. “You’re my baby brother… I should be the one protecting you, instead I depend on you like a fucking toddler.”

“I will always protect you. Always.” Regulus hid his face in the crook of his Sirius’ shoulder. He didn’t know he had been crying, until he felt his brother shiver due to the cold tears dripping on his skin. Regulus sniffed all his bad thoughts inside and he attempted a stern expression. “Sorry again…” 

“It’s all good.” Sirius smiled in that way that was unique to him: so warm and sincere as if he had never known pain or fear.

“Can I check your back? We should change the graze before the injuries get infected.” Regulus tried to return the smile and offer some comfort, but he only managed a strained grimace.

Sirius hummed reluctantly, offering his back as if he was a sacrificial lamb. He would have rather not acknowledged the wounds at all, as every little touch only made him gulp and revolt in pain, but they had to keep his back clean if he didn’t want to suffer even more. At least Regulus was careful and gentle enough to make the whole process at least bearable. He was meticulous, but merciful, handling Sirius with so much attentiveness.

“Thank you, petite etoile.” Sirius sighed, leaning into Regulus’ careful touch.

Despite how difficult it was to survive as the heirs of BLACK, despite the arguments, the harsh words and the painful thoughts, they still felt safe with each other. And that had to be enough.

☆☆☆

Remus didn’t sleep properly that night. For some reason he was too agitated to fall asleep, tossing and turning inside the bed covers all night. When he woke up after a maximum of forty minutes of restless dozing, Remus was covered in sweat and his heart was pounding so hard it almost exploded off his chest. Pandora suggested it was the aftermath of the days immediately after the full moon affecting his mood –Pisces are pretty sensitive to lunar phases, she said– but Remus didn’t really believe in astrology and all things like that. But still there was something bothering his spirit, leaving him impossibly nervous. 

When Remus decided to make himself a cup of coffee to cast away his exhaustion, he wondered if Sirius was ok. Maybe they were actual soulmates, and they were experiencing some sort of withdrawal syndrome from being separated for a couple of eternal days. Remus found himself smiling at the silly thought, listening distantly to the gurgling sound of the old coffee machine heating up.

“Ballerina Cappuccina!”  The ominous voice of Barty, who appeared out of nowhere from the other side of the living room, came suddenly, scratching Remus’ brain the wrong way.

“Mimimimi…” Evan was obviously right beside his boyfriend, looking just as mischievous as the other.

“È la moglie di Cappuccino Assassino!” Barty attempted some ridiculous ballet steps and he made his way to the kitchen counter with the clear intention of messing with an evidently exhausted and moody Remus. “Good morning, our professional rizzler of supermodels. Are you making coffee?”

“Yes, but just for me.” Remus rolled his eyes, feeling a little too short-tempered to deal with his noisy flatmates. “You and your boyfriend can make some for yourselves on your own.”

“Don’t worry, mate, we’re going to make ourselves a strong cup of Espressona Signora.” Evan let out a heartfelt laugh as if he had just said the funniest thing ever.

“Con il suo charme, una vera dadora.” Barty replied in a very deep, theatrical tone. He kept blabbering incomprehensible words that Remus could only assume were in Italian, considering Barty’s origins.

“What the fuck are you two rambling about?” Remus had to restrain himself from chugging the whole cup of incandescent black coffee down his throat out of pure exasperation.

“It’s Italian brainrot, you grandpa.” Barty groaned dramatically, running a hand through his freshly dyed green hair and rolling his eyes. “You would know if you checked your socials every once in a while instead of living under a rock.” He said, pointing at his phone. There was a horrifying looking ai generated video of an airplane mixed with a crocodile running on Barty’s tiktok feed.

“What the actual fuck is Italian brainrot?!” Remus barked a confused and rather annoyed chuckle, unsure whether to laugh or rip his hair out.

“You know, like Lirilì Larilà…” Evan explained in a didascalic tone that almost stole an actual laugh from Remus. He was playing with his new piercing, sliding his tongue into the metal ring which clanged against his teeth.

“Elefante nel deserto che cammina qua e là.” Barty completed his boyfriend’s incoherent rambling, emphasizing every single word as to show off his knowledge of the Italian language, as if any of his flatmates could actually understand him.

“Or Brr Brr Patapim…”

“Il mio cappello è pieno di slim.”

“Even better, Trallallero Trallallà.”

“Porcod-”

“Remus, check this out.” Pandora spoke suddenly, cutting Barty’s pointless rambling short. She finally rose from the sofa, her long, platinum hair flowing on her shoulders beautifully even if she had just woken up. Remus was so glad that she came to the rescue, smiling kindly as Pandora shoved her phone in her friend’s face. “You and your boyfriend are everywhere on Instagram.”

“What do you mean?” Remus lifted an eyebrow, confused. “I don’t even have instagram…” 

Remus looked down at the screen curiously and a little worriedly. He scrolled through post after post from various gossip pages and news outlets sharing stolen paparazzi pictures of him and Sirius kissing passionately on the bench during their date. Thousands of people were liking and leaving comments, reposting the photos on their stories and flooding the whole fashion side of the internet with the news of Sirius Black’s scandalous one night stand with a mysterious stranger. Some comments were overly positive and excited, with many people trying desperately to find out the identity of the unknown boyfriend to create a ship name for them. But other comments were absolutely vile and borderline abusive, berating Sirius for his sexuality, his inappropriate demeanor and some more.

“Holy shit, Lupin, you freaks were on fire!” Barty gasped a little too loud, slapping Remus’ shoulder supportively. “I’m so proud of you, mate!”

“People are going absolutely crazy over you lads.” Evan stole his twin sister’s phone to scroll some more, curiously checking the comments section of each and every post. 

“I can’t believe it, our sweet Remus became famous overnight!” Pandora cheered softly, her voice as light as a feather.

“This surely can’t be good for Sirius…” Remus clenched his fists, trying to make sense of the situation. He chugged the remaining half of his coffee in one gulp and he breathed out anxiously. “I mean, it’s not fair that they’re plastering his personal lives all over the internet. What if this has an impact on his public image?”

“Why would that even matter, it’s not like it’s something unnatural or out of the ordinary.” Evan shrugged, reposting a cringy edit of Remus and Sirius on his own instagram story. “Look how cute you are. Our mate Sirius is allowed to be in a relationship just like everybody else, don’t you think?”

“Easy for us mortals to say.” Remus clicked his tongue and he shook his head, defeated. “But look, people are criticizing him already… Some people are calling him all kinds of names and I don’t like that. And who knows what his parents might think, from what I’ve seen during Fashion Week they can be quite abusive.”

“Why would you worry about his fucking parents, he’s definitely not a child.” Barty grimaced, pointing at a particularly lewd picture of Sirius and Remus eating each other. To be honest, Remus hadn’t even realized just how intimate they were being so out in public and he blushed at the sight of some of the more incriminating shots. 

“They’re more like his employers than his parents, from what I can tell.” Remus bit the insides of his mouth, still shaken by the way Mr. and Mrs. Black in particular had treated their sons backstage. He could still vividly remember Sirius’ mother’s screams and the hatred and paralyzing disappointment in his father’s eyes. “I fear they might have a lot to say about his personal life…”

“You’re overthinking, in my opinion.” Barty flashed Remus a carefree grin. “It’s not that deep.” 

“I’ve been having this bad feeling all night… I don’t know, maybe I’m just in a weird mood and I’m worrying about nothing.” Remus lowered his gaze, still unconvinced. He could feel an unpleasant pressure building up in his abdomen.

“I told you, it’s the moon affecting your birth chart.” Pandora patted Remus’ head gently, trying to offer some comfort with her astrological knowledge.

“Listen to my sister, will you?” Evan nodded deeply in agreement. “It’s just the moon. Here, look, you’re like those brainrot, emo werewolves on tiktok.” He pushed his phone in Remus’ hands despite the other’s protests, showing him a slideshow of pictures of extremely muscular werewolves ripping their shirt off with the Twilight movie soundtrack in the background.

“Evan Rosier, if you don’t stop being chronically online right now-” Pandora jumped on her brother’s back, pulling his platinum hair. 

The twins began fighting each other friendly, half screaming and half laughing. Barty happily joined the brawl, helping his boyfriend fight off Pandora, despite her protests of the fight being unfair. Remus watched his friends with a weak smile, which slowly faded as the tension in his stomach kept getting worse and worse. He couldn’t shrug the feeling of doom off his shoulders, no matter how hard he tried to reason with himself. Remus kept thinking of Sirius, of his sweet lips, and he was overwhelmed by the urge to protect him.

“Ok, that’s enough shitting around, you idiots.” Barty yelled, awakening Remus from his thoughts. Barty separated the two twins who were still throwing hands a little more intensely by then. “Evan and I need to buy new fabrics for our upcoming projects, who wants to come with us to the market?”

“Fine, I’ll come with you, but you guys are the worst!” Pandora tried to sound annoyed, but her soft smile betrayed her naturally gentle attitude. She couldn’t hold a pout longer than a few minutes, especially to her twin brother. She sprinted towards the bathroom, quickly picking up a change of clothes from a pile on the couch.

“Of course we’re the worst of the worst, Panda!” Evan chuckled, kissing his boyfriend with a loud smack. Barty caught Evan’s newly healed piercing in between his teeth for a second, teasing the blonde until they kissed again. “How about you, Remus? Are you coming with us?” Evan managed to mumble in between kisses when Barty let go of his piercing.

“Nah, I’m really not feeling good.” Remus groaned, feeling his insides twist. The pressure on his abdomen was becoming unbearable, weighing down on his already trembling hip. “I’ll try to sleep some more. You have fun, though.”

“Pff, pussy.” Barty taunted, picking up one of his signature, distressed denim jackets that he designed with Evan. 

They were sort of matching outfits, as per usual, showing off their latest, extravagant projects. Their style was definitely something, and they never faded into the background, especially in Camden where they seemed to be the kings of the area. Barty was wearing a pair of black cargo pants with green topstitching covered in handmade patches and chains. Evan was wearing an identical design with silver topstitching and a different set of patches. The back of their denim jackets were decorated with hand painted writing, Barty’s said ‘Menace to society’ while Evan’s said ‘Hex the rich’, which was ironic considering that the Rosier twins were former posh kids from a wealthy family that they both despised.

“We’ll get you some yards of wool if we find a discounted batch.” Pandora hummed, emerging from the bathroom after putting on a light layer of makeup. 

She was wearing a flowy knee length pastel blue dress that definitely didn’t match the weather outside. She usually didn’t seem too bothered with the cold, still was wearing a set of knitted leg warmers and she picked her flannel white poncho from the coat hanger. Two small braids framed her face, while she kept the rest of her hair loose and flowy, and Remus found himself wondering how she managed to pull such a stylish look in less than five minutes.

“See you in a bit, rizzler.” Evan waved at Remus, who threw himself on the couch face first on the pillow. 

The three left the flat, leaving Remus on his own. The silence was gladly welcomed, but it felt strangely suffocating. Despite how exhausted he was, Remus wasn’t actually sleepy. It was as if his brain was working overtime, the little hamster in his skull running circles. He buried his face into the pillow, breathing out into the worn out padding. Sirius’ silver eyes appeared in the back of Remus’ mind, staring at him with so much vulnerability and desperation. It made Remus squirm and it only made his heart beat faster. The pressure on his abdomen turned into a warm, almost burning ache. Remus felt kind of pathetic for missing Sirius so much it physically hurt. He wanted, he needed Sirius back in his arms, he needed to breathe his scent and make sure he was safe and sound. He wanted to shower Sirius with kisses and scream to the whole world that they were each other’s loves. The underlying, uneasy feeling of doom didn’t leave Remus for a second, and it only got worse the more he thought of Sirius. He almost began hyperventilating when suddenly there was knocking on the front door of the flat.

Remus jumped back on his feet, drying the droplets of sweat damping his forehead with the hem of his cotton t-shirt. He scoffed, lazily reaching for the door handle without even checking who it was from the peephole.

“What did you forget this time, Bartemius?” Remus asked in a mocking tone as he opened the door.

What he found on the other side definitely wasn’t Barty’s stupid face. Before Remus could even brace himself or understand what was going on, he was brutally punched in the face by a thick, powerful fist. Remus stumbled backwards into the flat, holding his bleeding, crooked nose and struggling to breathe through the newly deviated nasal septum. The pain reverberated through every inch of his skull, his brain throbbing in protest at the sudden assault.

Two elegantly dressed men stepped into the flat, shutting the door behind them. They pushed Remus further inside and caused him to fall onto his aching limbs. Remus tried to get a hold of his cane, but he dropped it on the floor and it rolled in between the two intruders' feet. The two men carelessly picked Remus up from his arms and they dragged him to sit on the couch.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?!” Remus found it difficult to speak with a broken nose and with obstructed airways. He spat blood on the floor, and onto a pile of scraps of fabric and unfinished projects. 

“As you may remember, Mister Remus John Lupin, I am Rodolphus Lestrange. I am the man who hired you to work for the House of Black during London Fashion Week.” Rodolphus clicked his tongue, menacingly positioning himself in front of Remus. “This one right here is my brother, Rabastan. You might remember him as well, but we both suspect you must be too stupid for us to comprehend. Or else we can find no explanation for what went through your head when you decided to screw none other than Sirius Black himself.”

Rodolphus’ voice sent shivers down Remus’ spine, who instinctively flinched, inhaling sharply through this throbbing, bloody nose. He swallowed a clamp of blood, gritting his teeth like a wounded animal. 

“I believe that is none of your business-” Remus hissed defensively, but Rabastan quickly interrupted him by grabbing a fistful of his hair and yanking his head back. 

“Oh, but you see, it is our business.” The younger Lestrange brother hummed mockingly, maneuvering Remus’ head to check the damage done to his face. “Literally.” Rabastan grinned, amused.

“The House of BLACK is a family business, which means that everything my cousin-in-law does is of my concern.” Rodolphus explained calmly, as if he was talking to a business partner, or a rather stupid child. “Mr. Orion Black instructed us to deliver a message to you. He gave us permission to get as persuasive as we deem necessary, but we hope you’ll be intelligent enough to agree with the family’s terms without causing a scene.”

“You see, we’ve come here with a reasonable proposition.” Rabastan let go of Remus’ hair, ripping a few strands out for good measure.

Remus gasped and coughed for air. He clenched his fists, staring at his aggressors with a gaze that he hoped looked at least half as intimidating as he hoped it would. 

“You punched me in the fucking face before you even spoke a word, how is that reasonable-”

“Consider that an upfront warning.” Rodolphus clapped his hands together and he exchanged a quick, dark look with his younger brother. “A little taste of what is to come, if you decide to refuse our generous offer. Just so you know that we’re not messing around.”

“And what is your generous offer? Are you going to give me a bag full of cash and tell me to flee the country and never see Sirius again?” Remus let out a strained chuckle.

“More or less.” Rodolphus shrugged. “We were actually thinking about opening a series of bank accounts to make the money transfer go unnoticed and smoothly. Cash is too outdated, but if that is what a simpleton like you wants, then cash will do.”

Remus recoiled as he realized the dirty mess he pulled himself into. All of a sudden the ache in his stomach that kept him awake all night made so much sense. He wasn’t just imagining things, he wasn’t making a big deal out of nothing, it was all real. He had a reason to be afraid, he had a reason to worry. And in that moment, under the clutches of the Lestrange brothers, Remus couldn’t help but think of his beautiful, beloved Sirius. Remus worried that Sirius might have been hurt as well for their reckless adventure. He feared that Sirius might have been bleeding somewhere far away from him, having to deal with the same psychological violence that the Lestrange brothers were subjecting him to; maybe even worse. The blood in Remus’ nose coagulated in big, suffocating chunks, like sour pulpy rocks, and he wondered if Sirius was experiencing the same. To Remus, the idea of Sirius being hurt and scared was much more painful than anything else that could ever be done to him.

“What if I say no? Are you going to beat me until I comply? Are you going to beat me to death if I don’t bend to your tyranny? Are you going to kill me straight away? How would you get away with that?” Remus’ voice cracked the more questions he asked. He imagined the things he hypothesized, picturing his own dead body being tossed in the Thames like it was nothing.

“You’ll have to find out for yourself, if you really want to test our patience. But for everyone’s sake, I advise you to accept our offer.” Rodolphus’ voice got deeper, more urgent and serious. 

“How much money are we talking about?” Remus asked, trying to buy himself sometime when he noticed Rabastan cracking his knuckles menacingly. 

“Name your price.” Rodolphus extended his hands invitingly.

“My love for Sirius is priceless.” Remus growled, sinking deeper into the couch.

The Lestrange brothers exchanged one truly priceless look. They managed to hold on just a second before they both bursted into laughter, patting each other’s shoulders to steady themselves. Rabastan turned completely red, wheezing as if he had never heard anything more exhilarating in his whole life. Rodolphus was making a clearer effort to keep his cool, but he just couldn’t stop laughing with his whole chest for a good minute.

“You’re funny.” Rodolphus managed to bark through laughter. He wiped his eyes, having crackled to the point of tears. “I’m giving you one more chance because you managed to make me laugh, and that doesn’t happen often lately, with a wife like mine-” He steadied himself with a cold cough, then his face was back to stern and firm. “Name a price.”

“Can I-” Remus bit his tongue, feeling truly cornered. He had no way of escaping the situation, of dodging the two brother’s pestering threats; all he could do was just sit and tremble. He exhaled deeply, trying to sound more in control of himself than he was. “Can I think about it?”

“No.” Rodolphus replied instantly, brutally. “It would be preferable to have you on a plane to the other side of the world before the evening.”

Remus hesitated, his stomach twisting. “Sounds like a rip-off. If I comply I will lose the whole life that I have here, and I don’t even get the chance to think about it.” He shook his head, managing a distorted half smile, which hardly did anything to conceal his panic.

“It’s either you name a price, or we hurt you. Badly.”  Rabastan grabbed the back of Remus’ neck, his thumb pressing on his victim’s Adam’s Apple threateningly. He squeezed harder, not enough to strangle, but enough to pin Remus’ head in place.

Rodolphus let out an annoyed sigh, as if the whole ordeal was nothing but a boring inconvenience. He picked Remus’ cane from the floor, turning it over in his hands. It wasn’t anything fancy, a rather cheap wooden cane that Remus had had for years, ever since his condition started getting debilitating. The handle was rather worn out, and the entire body of the cane was decorated with tons of half torn paper stickers that Remus had been collecting for as long as he could remember. He had received the last one just a few days before from Barty and Evan, if was a custom sticker with the words ⒶBLEISM ISN’T PUNK written in the angriest font possible.

“Why do you need this for?” Rodolphus whistled, swinging the cane around as if it was a toy. “Got a bad knee? Are you handicapped?” He chuckled cruelly as if it was a joke.

Remus tensed up against the hand around his neck, and he could only frown as Rodolphus played with his cane. He felt insulted, but that was nothing compared to how scared he was. Rabastan smirked in content, as if he could sense Remus’ thought, squeezing harder.

“He’s about to piss himself.” Rabastan taunted, lightly slapping Remus’ cheek with his free hand.

“I’m giving you one last chance, then I’m going to beat you until you can’t move anymore and I’ll put you on the first flight out of this country myself.” Rodolphus grabbed Remus’ cane as if it was a baseball bat. “Just comply, and you can be rich and still relatively able to walk.”

Remus swallowed hard, his eyes widening as Rodolphus steadied his stance right in front of him, ready to break his fucking head. And for a moment, Remus thought about accepting the offer and saving himself. He really considered the idea, even if it was just for a split second. It wasn’t for the money, he couldn’t care less about it, but he was just too scared. The sweetness of Sirius’ lips wasn’t persuasive enough to make the upcoming assault feel worth it. The melody  that was Sirius’ voice echoing in the back of Remus’ mind wasn’t soothing to the point of making Rodolphus’ threats sound bearable. The memory of Sirius’ hands on him couldn’t possibly heal the bones that were about to be broken. 

And so, Remus hesitated, his lips pressed together in a thin, trembling line. He stared at the curved handle of the cane, shaking at the mere thought of getting hit with it. Remus couldn’t help but wonder if it was really worth it, if his desperate infatuation with Sirius was worth the suffering he was promised. They had only known each other for a few days, after all. Their passion was real, pure and consuming, a blessing that turned Remus’ life upside down in such a short amount of time; but still, was it really worth losing everything for such a short lived love story? Remus had never known happiness so intense before meeting Sirius. Remus had never felt as fulfilled and complete before kissing Sirius. Yet, he hesitated, because he was terrified.

It was as if time had stopped for Remus. Rodolphus and Rabastan looked like Greek statues, frozen in their plastic, threatening poses. Remus was about to surrender, to submit, but the words never managed to get past his throat. He just groaned, lowering his gaze, unable to do anything at all. He was too weak, too pathetic and scared to fight back, but he couldn’t comply either. His heart was about to explode in his chest as he realized that he wasn’t willing to betray Sirius, no matter what the cost. Their love was young and unripe, and maybe it didn’t feel like it was worth it yet, but Remus couldn’t abandon Sirius. 

Rodolphus’ knuckles clenched around the bottom of the cane, his fingers grating one of the oldest stickers on there. It was barely readable, faded after years, but Remus had always loved that little sticker. It said NO JUSTICE/NO PEACE. He had gotten it from a girl during a protest when he was still in school. It had been so long, but still the meaning behind those words stuck with him. As with everything in the world, justice played a deeper, ever present role that Remus wasn’t willing to overlook.

Sirius wasn’t just Remus’ newfound lover. He was a beautiful, sensitive person who had been wronged probably too many times before. Remus had seen the marks of abuse on Sirius’ body, and he had felt the pain of his aching soul. How many times had Sirius been wronged in the past? How many tears did he have to cry for people betraying him, using him, abusing him and leaving him as if he was nothing but a thing? Remus dared get a little too deep into it. He stole a piece of Sirius’ heart, he tore it off his chest the moment their lips touched, and there was no way in hell that Remus was going to trample on it. He wouldn’t be just another wound on Sirius’ heart, he refused to discard the trust they so briefly shared. 

And so, Remus just stared into Rodolphus' eyes challengingly. He was terrified still, horribly so, but he was at least ready to face the consequences of his actions. If Sirius was going to suffer because of their love, then he wouldn’t be the only one. Remus clenched his jaw protectively, offering the right side of his face to his tormentor. 

“What a shame.” Rodolphus clicked his tongue, dragging his arms backwards, ready to strike with the cane. “Get back, Rabastan. It’s going to take a while.”

Rabastan gave Remus’ throat one last crushing squeeze, his nails leaving deep gashes as he pulled away. Remus didn’t even have the time to whimper before Rodolphus striked. Fortunately, Remus’ reflex didn’t completely fail him and he managed to protect the side of his head with his arm, and the handle of the cane hit him right on his homer. The pain was so intense it radiated through his whole arm, exploding in his shoulder, and Remus worried for a second that his arm might be broken. Rodolphus fixed the cane in his hands and he hit again, with all his strength. Remus covered his head with his arms and he hunched forward, falling on the ground. Rodolphus kept striking again and again, bruising Remus’ back, shoulders and the base of his neck. Rabastan didn’t stand to the side for too long, more eager to join the assault than his brother, and he kicked the back of Remus’ knee with his heel. That hurt more than the beating. Remus screamed, curling up on himself in a fetal position, trying to protect all of his most sensitive spots. The Lestrange brothers kept hitting wherever they could. They tried to pry Remus open, but he kept his muscles tense and solidly in a defensive mod. It was a relentless attack and Remus clenched his teeth waiting for it to stop. Remus wasn’t really focused enough to keep track of the time, he just worried about surviving. It could have lasted anywhere from a minute to a whole day, but at some point the assault suddenly stopped as the front door burst open.

“I forgot my fucking wallet!” Barty groaned as he stepped past the threshold, then he froze the moment he got a glimpse of what was going on inside the flat. “What the actual fuck is going on?!”

Rodolphus dropped the cane, the combination of it being multiple years old, it being used as a weapon and the impact with the hard floor caused it to finally break in half. Rabastan stopped mid kick, his leg hovering just above Remus’ hip. Barty was shaking with so much adrenaline, staring at the two intruders with blood-filled, murderous eyes. Something finally snapped in Barty’s barely sane mind the moment he heard Remus’ strained whimpers, and he charged to punch Rodolphus’ face without thinking twice.

“Who the fuck are you?!” Barty screamed when Rodolphus dodged the punch. “What the fuck are you doing in my fucking flat?!” He threw another punch, and it finally hit Rodolphus’ ear.

The eldest Lestrange brother hissed, his ear ringing for a good moment. He pushed Barty off of himself, throwing him against the kitchen counter. “Rabastan, get him.” Rodolphus spat, massaging the side of his head.

“N-no!” Remus let out a strained cry, trying to push himself off the floor to help his flatmate, but Rodolphus easily pinned him down, steppin on his bruised ribs with one foot and crushing.

Rabastan cracked his knuckles, ready to punch Barty in the face, but when he attempted to strike he was met with the acutest pain he ever felt. Barty managed to grab his switchblade from the front pocket of his jacket and he stuck it brutally in Rabastan’s hand. The blade cut all the way through the youngest Lestrange brother’s hand, piercing it through and through. 

“FUCK!” Rabastan screamed and cried, instinctively pulling his hand back and causing even more damage as he forced the blade out of his flesh. There was blood everywhere along his arm, dripping down his fingers onto the floor. “You’re going to pay for this-!” Rabastan charged back at Barty with his healthy hand, but he stopped quickly when Barty pointed the switchblade right at his face.

“Stop right fucking there.” Barty grinned at the sight of blood staining the shiny metal of his favorite knife. He pointed the sharp edge of the blade right in between Rabastan’s eyes and he chuckled at the idea of sticking it in there. “Get the fuck out of my flat before I fucking kill the both of you and take a fucking bath in your fucking blood.”

“Whoa there, there’s no need to threaten murder.” Rodolphus tensed up, taking his foot off of Remus to stand beside his brother protectively.

“Yeah, try me.” Barty snarled, twisting the bloodied switchblade in his hand. “It’s not a threat it’s a fucking promise, get out right fucking now or I will slash your throat and pop your fucking eyes out.” He pointed the blade at Rodolphus, then back at Rabastan, his hand firm and unfaltering.

The twisted grin on Barty’s lips was enough to convince the Lestrange brothers that he definitely wasn’t messing around. Barty was more than willing to act out on his ever present murderous intrusive thoughts, and neither Rodolphus and Rebastan felt like pushing the clearly mentally unstable armed man off the edge. They walked slowly towards the front door, their eyes never leaving the edge of the bloodied knife. 

“Well, it was a pleasant encounter after all.” Rodolphus sighed ironically, pushing his younger brother out of the door. “It looks like you get a few more days to think about our offer, Lupin. We will be in touch.”

“Get the fuck out of here and don’t you dare show your ugly faces around ever again! If you lay a hand on my friend one more time you’re both dead!” Barty yelled, shoving Rodolphus out of the flat and slamming the front door. 

Barty turned the keys and double locked the door before he allowed himself to take a deep breath. “What the fuck, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!” He cried as he cleaned the blade of his knife, rubbing it against his jacket, leaving deep crimson stains all over the custom patches.

Remus weakly pushed himself to sit against the couch, hissing as he instinctively pushed two fingers in between his ribs, trying to stop the breath-stealing pain. It only worsened the ache and he cried out, throwing his head back against the couch. Barty rushed to his friend’s side, not even bothering closing the switchblade just in case. 

“What the fuck was that, Remus?!” Barty tried not to yell, but he still had too much adrenaline flowing through his body and he had to scream the tension off his muscles. He gasped when he saw the worrisome amount of blood pouring out of Remus’ crooked nose, as well as the most visible and vividly dark bruises appearing all over his arms and neck. “Why the fuck did they do this to you?!”

“It’s a long story-”

☆☆☆

Sirius spent the whole first half of the day in front of the floor length mirror in his room, staring at himself with increasingly more consuming disgust. He was half naked, too scared to put on a shirt in fear that the fabric could grate against the fresh cuts on his back, and he was freezing. Despite having turned on the localized heating, the complete lack of fat on his body made it impossible for Sirius to protect himself from the cold. He was shivering, barely able to stand on his feet, but he held on just to spite himself.

Of course, his parents had denied him both breakfast and lunch, to further punish him for his scandalous, atrocious actions. He wasn’t exactly hungry, especially after everything that he had to endure, but he was feeling terribly weak and unfocused. After whole hours of staring at himself in the mirror, the lines of his body began to blur and bend in different, horrible shapes, which only made him feel worse about himself. 

Sirius reached for the cold glass of the mirror, caressing the outline of his face. His knuckles lingered on the dark bruise on his cheek and he grimaced in disgust. He wanted to peel himself alive, get rid of that ruined layer covered in marks of abuse and regrow a new pristine skin. He dug his nails right where the bruise started, wincing a little in pain. He was about to scratch when Regulus knocked on his door, back from lunch.

“Siri, I brought you something to eat.” Regulus spoke softly, almost a whisper, from the other side of the door.

Sirius swallowed the lump of self-hatred, and he inhaled sharply. He tried to suppress the need to hurt himself, putting on a strained, artificial smile. He opened the door, finding comfort in the sight of his baby brother smiling back at him, a bundle of stolen left over carefully hidden under his sweater. “Come in.” Sirius hummed.

Regulus quickly slid past Sirius, feeling their parents’ omnipresent stare on his back. He tried to sneak as many leftovers as he could, but Orion and Walburga had been particularly wary all morning, their gazes never leaving Regulus’ hands during their meal. After years of refining his food stealing skills, Regulus managed to grab something undetected anyways, but he still feared he was being watched. Only when Sirius closed the door behind them he managed to feel a little safer. The two brothers sat leg crossed on Sirius’ bed and Regulus emptied his little stolen food haul on the covers. He managed to grab three small bundles, wrapped tightly in tissues, one with a slice of bread, one with leftover salad which turned a little soggy after being squashed, and one with a half eaten fish filet. Sirius wriggled his nose at the sight of the fish, since he hated fish, but he was still grateful that his little brother managed to grab him something and didn’t leave him to die of hunger.

“Sorry it’s not much.” Regulus sighed, lowering his gaze.

“It’s plenty!” Sirius squeezed his baby brother’s hand. “Thank you, Reggie.” He smiled, stuffing the slice of bread and a handful of vinegar drenched lettuce leaves in his mouth. 

Regulus watched as Sirius made an effort to eat everything he was offered. Despite the desperate need of his body to be refilled with some nutrition, Sirius still found it hard to eat normally. He tried to eat the fish, if anything to not make Regulus feel bad, but he couldn't handle more than a tiny bite and he still felt like he was going to vomit just from that. The bread was fine and the salad was actually good, except for some leaves that appeared too soggy and Sirius had to avoid them because their texture made his stomach twist in disgust. All and all Sirius ate enough to feel a little better, but he noticed the sad look on Regulus' face as he realized he had only eaten barely more than half the food on the bed.

“I’m full, Reggie, you stole a lot!”  Sirius lied both to himself and Regulus. His smile widened in a way that was both sincere and forced at the same time. He still had some bits of lettuce stuck in between his teeth, which made his smile look a little more innocent, but it still wasn’t enough to lift Regulus’ spirit.

“I stole just enough food to help you survive and you ate only half of it…” Regulus sighed defeatedly, avoiding his brother’s gaze as to not catch the blatant lie in Sirius’ eyes.

“Reggie, please-” Sirius’ stomach dropped, and whatever little remnants of hunger he had left was gone in an instant, replaced by guilt. He couldn’t eat more even if he tried with all his might against himself, his esophagus clenching as his body tried to activate his gag reflex and expel the little food he had just because. “I promise I’m full, you know I have a tiny stomach.” Sirius whispered, swallowing the need to retch.

Regulus shook his head imperceptibly, attempting to keep his disappointment to himself. Sirius was incomprehensibly pitiful, a kind of messed up that Regulus couldn’t fully grasp even if he cared so much it hurt. And it hurt to be disappointed in him, because Sirius tried so hard, but Regulus just wanted him to be ok and it was difficult to see his big brother fail at life because of how broken he was. It wasn’t Sirius’ fault, it was never Sirius’ fault for being abused into the helpless puppy he was, but sometimes Regulus struggled to pinpoint where else to put the blame.

“I need to start my own brand.” Regulus breathed out after a long, heavy moment of silence. He was shaking slightly, searching his big brother’s eyes for support. “As soon as possible. So that we can pack and leave.” He mumbled as fast as he could, as if he needed to get the words out of his chest to breathe.

“You definitely should.” Sirius grinned, pinching his baby brother’s cheek as if he was a child explaining that he wanted to be an astronaut when he grows up. “You’re my favorite designer, after all.”

“I’m being one hundred percent for real, Sirius.” Regulus rolled his eyes, gently slapping his brother’s hands off his face. “I can do this. I know my craft and I’m tired of living in the shadow of our parents. After what they did yesterday-” Regulus inhaled sharply, his fists clenching around Sirius’ bedsheets. “I need to get you out of here.”

“Reggie…” Sirius’ eyes softened and his smile fell a little, though turning more genuine and loving. “Of course you can. I mean it when I say I love your designs. Our parents are wasting your talent and I can’t even begin to explain how disappointed I am that I have to look at you sitting in a corner when you draw the most beautiful masterpieces I’ve ever seen.” Sirius squeezed his baby brother’s hands. “I will do anything to help you succeed.”

“Perfect, because I’ve got an idea and I need your help.” Regulus squeezed Sirius’ hands back, sounding more firm and determined. “There’s going to be a charity runway show in two days, and although they’re not accepting applications from new designers anymore, I’ve got a recognizable name. I trust I can use that to my advantage and get a spot even just based on that. I’ve got plenty of designs I can choose from, I just need a manufacturer and a model. For the manufacturing I may have an idea, and I was hoping you could be my model.”

“Oh my.” Sirius listened carefully to his brother’s explanation, charmed by the unusual, bright enthusiasm radiating through every single word Regulus spoke. “Reggie, of course I want to model your designs… But our parents won’t let me out of the house for a while, and they most certainly won’t allow me to walk at a charity runway in two days. Besides, I’m covered in bruises… I can’t walk looking like this, it will reflect badly on your designs as well.”

“We can… I don’t know, we can sneak out, I can find an excuse- You are not a prisoner. They can’t lock you here forever, for fuck’s sake, I will find a way to get you out of here for the runway show if you want to.” Regulus was breathing heavily, struggling to keep up with his own thoughts formulating plan after plan. “And about the bruises, I’ve got plenty of designs that can hide most of the bruises, even the one on your face- Wait, give me a second.”

Sirius watched as Regulus jumped off the bed, running to his own room, and he waited. He could hear his baby brother throwing papers and binders on the floor, digging into his huge collection of sketches. Regulus came back after a few minutes with a handful of sketchbooks and loose watercolor pages in his hands, spreading his art on Sirius’ bed.

“Here, take a look at this one for example-” Regulus pushed one of his sketchbooks in Sirius’ lap, opening it to a page where he drew an especially beautiful and angry design. It was an extremely oversized leather, black tracksuit with a huge collar that extended in an avangarde curve and into a headpiece that resembled both a well structured hood and a drapery veil. “I was experimenting with headpieces. This whole sketchbook is actually filled with weird caps and veil designs, we can find something that can help hide the bruises while looking fucking cooler than anything our mother ever designed.”

Sirius was taken aback by Regulus’ abnormally rebellious attitude and critical words towards their mother’s art. Despite everything their parents had done to them, Regulus had always respected and admired Walburga as a designer, and regarded her as his biggest inspiration. It was normal, after all, for a child to be enamoured with the things his mother created. Yet, Regulus wasn’t a child any longer, whatever residue of innocent blissfulness disappeared the night before when his father hit him and whipped Sirius, and whatever respect he had left for his mother was gone. 

Granted that Sirius was proud of Regulus for finally outgrowing his inferiority complex, it was still hard as an older brother to realize that his little one had grown up into an adult. An adult who didn’t have to be afraid of being himself and shine on his own. And what a smart, talented, brave adult Regulus had turned into; a much more responsible, stronger, more useful version of his addict, unhealthy, failed older brother. Truthfully, Sirius was so glad Regulus didn’t follow his steps into adulthood, becoming his own beautiful person who didn’t need a problematic big brother to save him from the horrors of the world. Sirius kept flipping through the pages of Regulus’ sketchbook, admiring sketch after sketch of unique designs. Each drawing represented a hidden side of Regulus’ soul, and Sirius explored every single corner of his baby brother’s mind with so much love and curiosity. It was a wonderful journey which almost brought him to tears. Sirius pinched Regulus’ cheek once again, this time a little more nostalgically. His hand lingered on his baby brother’s face, caressing and reminiscing, then he smiled.

“These designs are incredible and it would be an honor for me to model for you, mon petit etoile. That’s the least I can do to support you, after everything you did for me.” Sirius murmured and his heart skipped a beat when he noticed the way Regulus’ eyes sparkled at his words. “I can’t help you with the manufacturing process and with getting a spot in the runway lineup, but if you manage to get everything ready for the show, then I’ll walk for you even if it is the last thing I do.”

“I’ll handle everything.” Regulus nodded firmly. “I’ve gotta go then, I need to talk to… well, to the manufacturer.” He picked up the sketchbook with his designs. “I’ll be back before dinner. Try not to fight with our parents in the meantime.” 

“I won’t even get out of my room if I can help it.” Sirius shrugged. “Now go, mon frère, make me proud.”

☆☆☆

“Ok so, let’s review.” Evan exhaled, lightly pressing an ice packet on Remus’ broken nose. “You were attacked by two BLACK henchmen because they were pissed off that you snogged their fucking crown jewel.” 

“Precisely.” Remus groaned in pain, flinching away from the cold. Evan grabbed his face a little too harshly and kept him in place.

“And Barty almost murdered them with a knife.” Pandora bit her lower lip, pacing nervously in circles around the couch. 

“I barely stabbed the uglier one.” Barty scoffed, still playing with his switchblade. There were still some dried flakes of blood on the metal and he stared at those rather proudly. He refused to put it away, especially after the twins returned home. He had to be ready to protect the people he cared about, in case the Lestrange came back. “I wish I had done more, those fucking fucks.”

“In any case, I’m glad you two are even alive at this point.” Pandora sighed, dropping onto the couch right next to her brother and Remus.

“Don’t celebrate too soon, our Lupin here was beaten to a pulp.” Evan sighed, then he suddenly grabbed Remus’ arm and moved it upwards before aggressively pressing down on Remus’ ribs. “Does it hurt if I touch you here?”

“YES! FUCK-” The unexpected shocking pain stole Remus’ breathe and he coughed, only worsening the agony in his ribcage. “What the fuck Rosier, can’t you be a little more careful?”

“I’m a doctor, I know what I’m doing.” Evan rolled his eyes, lifting Remus’ shirt to check the bruising.

“You dropped out and you didn’t even finish your first year of universit- AGH!” Remus cried out when Evan folded him forcibly, feeling the back of his ribcage as he struggled to breathe.

“Which is more than any of you fucks ever managed anyways, so shut up and let me do my thing.” Evan spat, feeling around Remus’ torso in spite of his pained cries and protests. “Trouble breathing and swelling around your rib cage. Mate, you’ve got at least a couple cracked ribs. Be grateful that they didn’t fully break, or else you could have punctured your lungs and you could have died before I even got back to make a diagnosis.”

Evan finally let go of Remus, who slumped on the couch with one last sigh. Pandora patted his friend’s head gently, exchanging some knowing looks with her brother. Just then, there was knocking on the front door. The four flatmates jumped startled, looking at each other warily for a good moment. Remus gritted his teeth, instinctively making himself smaller and sinking into the cushions of the couch, eyes wide in fear. Barty steadied his grip on the switchblade, knuckles turning white for how hard he was holding it, and he gathered the courage to check who was knocking from the peehole.

“AH! Remus, your fucking boyfriend’s here, fucking damn it.” Barty yelled way too loudly after peeking through the peehole, recognizing the unmistakable features of a prim and proper Black family member. As he opened the door, he welcomed the unexpected visitor with a wide grin and the blade still in his hand. “Er, I thought he was taller.” Barty shrugged, staring at the shorter boy on the threshold from head to toe.

“I’m Sirius’ brother, you dumb fuck.” Regulus hissed and frowned. If his gaze could kill, Barty would have been dead on the spot. “Why the hell are you pointing a knife at me?”

“His baby brother, so cute.” Barty laughed, pushing Regulus inside. “And this little thing?” He said, masterfully spinning the switchblade in his hand, his fingers handling the blade without getting a single tiny cut. “This is just a little necessity to defend ourselves because your fucking dranged family just sent two fucking henchmens to assault our flatmate.”

“What the hell are you talking about-? Where’s Remus?” Regulus tensed up, looking around the run-down flat until he spotted the seamster spread on the couch, pale as ever and covered in bruises.

“Regulus, hi-” Remus groaned, painfully lifting a hand in a welcoming gesture. “How’s Sirius doing?” He asked with a trembling voice, his eyes filled with so much worry.

“Not much better than you, I fear.” Regulus swallowed at the sight of Remus’ injuries. A bitter part of him thought it was fair, that at least Sirius wasn’t the only one suffering for their reckless adventure. Still, Regulus couldn’t wrap his head around the idea of two idiots being hurt just because they’re stupidly ‘ in love' or something . “What the fuck happened?”

“The Lestrange brothers, the ones working for your father-” Remus screeched, trying to push himself into a proper sitting position, torturing his cracked ribs with each movement.

“Fuck, I hoped they wouldn’t go this far…” Regulus bit the insides of his mouth, trying to cast away the memories of his big brother’s bruised and sliced back. He sat on the floor in front of the couch, in front of Remus, and he sighed. “I’m- damn it, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, what happened to Sirius, though?” Remus urged, his heart beating a little too hard against his aching ribcage. “Please, tell me he’s safe.”

“He’s-” Regulus sucked in and he grimaced, brows frowned so deeply they almost touched. “I’m taking care of him. I won’t let anything bad happen to him ever again, that’s for sure.”

“Why are you here?” Evan asked harshly, getting off the couch and towering over Regulus. “Did your parents send you or what-”

“No, of course not.” Regulus spat. “I don’t work for them, not anymore. I want to start my own brand and get my brother out of their control and I need your help to make it happen, Remus.” Regulus stared deeply into Remus’ eyes, almost imploringly.

“I’d do anything for Sirius.” Remus said firmly, with no hesitation. “Anything.”

“Even after you were beaten by my family?”

“Especially because of that. I can’t wait to get back at them, for fuck’s sake.” Remus let out a strained half chuckle, trying but failing to ignore the pain in his chest. “Tell me what I need to do.”

“Good.” Regulus said with a single, firm nod. “There’s going to be a runway show in two days and I need you to sew one of my designs. I’ll show my work to the world and start getting my name out. If everything works out the way I think, I’ll put myself in direct competition against our parents and that will definitely make it so that we can get at least into the industry fast and lucratively. I need Sirius to start walking for me and not our parents. Can you help me do this?” 

“Er, I can try…” Remus whimpered, pointing at his chest. “Those motherfuckers cracked my ribs.”

“We can help!” Pandora smiled enthusiastically. “I mean, we’re all dress makers, and no one builds patterns better than I do!”

“No, Panda.” Remus wheezed, struggling to fill his lungs with air. He gently grabbed Pandora’s arm, trying to reason with her. “None of you are getting involved in this. I wouldn’t want you to become targets as well-”

“I already am one, most likely.” Barty shrugged. “It wouldn’t surprise me if they want me dead after I stabbed one of their henchmen, so at this point I might as well do something about it and shove some cool designs up their asses.”

“I’m in as well.” Evan said, squeezing Barty’s thigh possessively. “My boyfriend stabbed that guy before he stabbed me, I need to get revenge for that and obliterate their pathetic fashion brand.”

Regulus let out a relieved breath, looking at the less than professional team of missfit he found to make his project happen. “Well… You lot don’t look like the kind of people I like to work with, but I guess for now it will have to do.” Regulus smiled despite himself. He gave the others his sketchbook, pointing at the design he showed Sirius earlier. “This is the design I was going for, and here are Sirius’ measurements-”

“I know his measurements by heart.” Remus murmured gently, staring off dreamily like an annoyingly lovesick teenager.

“Yeah, that’s weird and I don’t like that.” Regulus frowned, overwhelmed with a consuming sense of jealousy. He gritted his teeth, trying to ignore Remus and the underlying feeling of insecurity he felt in his presence. “Anyways, can you make it happen? In two days?”

“Give me the sketch, I’ll start working on the pattern right now!” Pandora took the drawing from Regulus, giving it a good, satisfied look. She jumped off the couch, her long locks bouncing as she trotted towards the kitchen where she kept her specialty rulers. “Barty, you could’ve at least washed off the blood from the countertop!”

“Don’t be so dramatic, come on!” Barty rolled his eyes, but he still got up to help Pandora clean up the mess.

“We need to get the fabric, we definitely don’t have enough leather in the studio downstairs.” Evan tapped his fingers on the arm of the couch, tilting his head as he stared at Regulus challengingly. “Will you pay for it, rich boy, or do you expect us poor rejects to cover your expenses?”

“Of course I’ll pay, let’s go, we don’t have much time-”

“Thank God, because Remus won’t work with leather unless it’s his super fancy, vegan mushroom leather or whatever it’s called, and I don’t have the funds to buy a bulk of that.” Evan winked at his friend, then he grabbed Regulus’ arm and he unceremoniously dragged him towards the front door.

“Hey, Regulus…” Remus reached out for Regulus, but he could only move a tiny bit before the pain began unbearable, crushing his chest and making it impossible to breathe for a second. Once he regained his composure a little, his gaze softened to the point of almost turning ridiculous. “Can you… can you tell Sirius that I love him? That I always think about him?” Remus’ voice sounded overly sweet, it almost made Regulus want to retch.

“My fucking-” Regulus flinched, disgusted by Remus’ sickly honeyed words. He felt like his teeth were about to rot and fall out of his mouth. Regulus couldn’t understand how his brother could be in love with such an idiot. But after all, Sirius was an idiot himself. A kind, misunderstood idiot, who definitely needed a little bit of joy once in a while. “Get a life. And get some rest, I need you to sew the design pronto.”

Chapter Text

Regulus Black was, for lack of better words, a sneaky little bastard. Sirius loved that about his baby brother, and he liked to believe that Regulus got some of his arrogant insolence from himself, rather than their parents. Despite how reserved and quiet he looked, the youngest Black brother really knew how to handle people when he wanted to, so it wasn’t too difficult to get a spot in the Oxfam “Style for Change” runway of 2025 just a couple of days before the show. He knew how to play the game, he had been training for it since he was a child despite how hard Orion and Walburga tried to keep him docile and obedient. The only thing he had to do was wave the surname Black, throw in some puppy eyes and make the right phone calls and everything worked out just the way he expected.

Not that Sirius doubted that his baby brother could pull a stunt like that effortlessly, but still when Regulus shared the news he had been so proud. Sirius had been so happy that he wanted to pick Regulus up as if he was a kitten, if it wasn’t for the fact that his muscles had basically vanished after being starved like a stray. Nevertheless, Sirius hadn’t been so excited and thrilled about being in a runway show since his first time back when he was fifteen.

The initial eagerness and enthusiasm had died down over the course of the two days before the show, and by the time Sirius found himself backstage he was feeling even more anxious than usual. It was due to an unfortunate combination of factors; he was nervous for the upcoming performance, he was scared of not being enough for his baby brother, and most of all he was ashamed of going around with a huge bruise on the side of his face that he tried to hastily hide behind a pair of sunglasses. Regulus had allowed him to smoke a couple of cigarettes on their way to the venue, but as much as Sirius tried to stay focused and energetic for his baby brother’s big debut he just couldn’t deal with himself. 

After finding their designated spot backstage for hair and makeup, Regulus left Sirius alone for a couple of minutes as he went to meet the director of the runway show. It took everything in Sirius’ powers to refrain himself from smoking a whole pack before Regulus noticed, and he cursed himself for having been too trusting of his own mental health not to bring at least a whole blister of valium. But as he stared at himself in the mirror, Sirius gritted his teeth and held onto his feeble principles solely for the sake of his baby brother’s career. Sirius was desperate to make himself useful for once, and the only way he knew was being beautiful on the catwalk. So, he had to focus on preserving every little ounce of sanity and charm he had left.

But damn it, Sirius was so exhausted and done that it was difficult to do anything about it. He was at a loss like never before. He was so anxious that he completely forgot his skin care routine, and as he eyed the products he had lined up on the make up table he had no idea where to begin. His hands were shaking as he picked up a glowing serum and he tried to remember the instructions Mary had repeated to him time and time again, and he always seemed to forget. Regulus once suggested that the lack of sugar was impairing Sirius’ brain functions, but Sirius strongly believed it was the alcohol and drugs. Maybe it was a combination of both, because as of lately Sirius didn’t seem to remember anything. It was frustrating and honestly humiliating. Swallowing his exasperation, Sirius began smudging a generous amount of serum on his face, hoping he was doing the right thing. The serum was pleasantly fresh and oily, providing at least a nice sensation to his sensitive skin. At least, he wasn’t burning his pores off from the feeling of it, and that had to be enough. 

“Did you cleanse and tone before putting on that serum?” Mary whispered right behind Sirius’ ear, making him jump.

“Mary! My- you scared the shit out of me!” He inhaled sharply, clenching his chest ever so dramatically. He looked behind him through the mirror and he saw his whole beauty team setting up their products around him. “You girls are here as well?” He couldn’t help but smile.

“Of course, you dumb himbo, did you think Regulus would let anyone else lay a hand on your precious, fragile, beautiful hair and face?” Marlene spoke each adjective mockingly, slamming two whole cans of expensive volumizing mousse on the table.

“Aren’t you scared my parents will find out and fire you?” Sirius muttered, his shoulders slumping. 

“I’m pretty sure my contract says that I am your image consultor, not theirs.” Dorcas shrugged, eyes Sirius up and down with her usual attentive, engaging gaze. “Whatever stupid stunt you and your brother decide to pull, my role is to make sure you look your absolute best.” She patted Sirius’ back, offering him a genuinely amused smile.

“I–” Sirius bit the insides of his mouth, gathering his thoughts. He struggled to express just how grateful he was for his amazing team, who never let him down despite how hard he tried to sabotage himself, both involuntarily and sometimes even voluntarily. They were always nice and gentle, and willing to support him in spite of all odds. He wanted to kiss his favorite , talented, beautiful girls on the lips one by one and crawl on the floor for them, but in the end he simply said: “Well, thank you girls.” 

Dorcas and Marlene exchanged knowing looks, with Marlene even lifting one pierced eyebrow in surprise. Then they both smiled when Mary let out a gentle chuckle and whispered “My, thank you!”, booping Sirius’ nose despite his protests. Marlene resumed unpacking with the help of her girlfriend, while Mary sat next to Sirius and she gently rubbed the thick layer of serum off his face and checked the skin underneath.

“How did you get this bruise, Sirius?” Mary asked hesitantly, brushing the dark, swollen skin carefully. She tried to calibrate her tone so as to sound too worried and scared, in fear that it would trigger Sirius. 

“I got a little too drunk trying  to deal with the mess of being outed to the whole world and I slammed my face against the nightstand when I tried to go to bed.” Sirius replied a little too fast, spelling out every syllable perfectly as if the excuse was nothing but a rehearsed quote from a play.

Mary exchanged a knowing, sad look with the other girls. They sighed in unison but they didn’t press further. Regulus had been pretty straight forward with the three of them when he explained the purpose of his participation in the charity runway show: to make a name for himself, and set Sirius free. The best thing they could do for their model friend at the moment was to make him feel at ease and help him get through the day looking as beautiful as possible. But although they dropped the argument, none of them were fooled by Sirius’ scripted, unbelievable excuse. And the model’s avoidance only confirmed the girls’ deep rooted doubts that it was most likely his family who hurt him, once again. Mary’s fingers lingered on Sirius’ cheek, outlining the faded, yellowy edges of the bruise. She definitely didn’t need to be told that the source of the blow was definitely a punch, not a piece of furniture. She inhaled sharply, trying to focus back on her work, though her touch became much more gentle and careful.

“You haven’t cleansed or toned, as I suspected.” Mary sighed, picking up a microfiber cloth wet with cleanser to wipe the supermodel’s face. “Well, that’s alright, you still look better than most people.” She winked, restarting Sirius’ skin care routine from the beginning in the correct order.

Sirius closed his eyes and he relaxed in his seat, giving his team complete room to work. Mary massaged Sirius’ face with the utmost care as if he was made of porcelain, loosening up the tension built around his forehead and temples. Sirius could have easily fallen asleep under her touch if it wasn’t for Marlene separating the back of his hair less than mindfully.

“See, what did I tell you?” Marlene hissed, urgently pulling at Dorcas’ sleeve. “He’s balding. Fuck, I can’t believe the things they’re doing to him…” She was at least trying to keep her voice down, but Sirius still heard her loud and clear.

“Maybe if you did your job better I wouldn’t be losing hair, uh?” Sirius snapped defensively, his eyes getting foggy with just how anxious he was feeling. He clenched his fists around the armchair so hard that his knuckles turned white. He let out a stammering, long sigh, and that actually helped him vent some tension. Through blurred eyes he noticed the disappointed look on both Marlene and Dorcas’ faces and he regretted his outburst immediately. “No, no. I’m sorry, look… I- I’m not balding, ok?” Sirius faltered, trying to placate the slight tremors in his hands. “I did it to myself, I’m just too nervous lately.”

“As if that makes the situation any better.” Marlene rolled her eyes, snatching the volumizing mousse with a harsh gesture. “Can you believe it, Cass? He thinks it’s fine until it’s just mental illness, and not physical decay.” 

“Sh, it’s alright, love.” Dorcas caressed Marlene’s back gently, her fingers effortlessly finding all the right spots to dissipate all of her girlfriend’s tightness and make her melt. “Let Sirius be, he has an important job to do and he doesn’t need us fussing all over him right now, mh?” She hummed, looking at Sirius first through the mirror, and then at Marlene with a slightly more firm gaze.

Sirius sunk into the chair with a frustrated groan, looking away and focusing solely on Mary’s gently massaging his face. Marlene, on the other hand, didn’t seem to want to drop the discussion just yet. Her hands lingered on the unsettling bald and irritated spots in the back of Sirius’ scalp. She opened her mouth and she was about to protest, but when Dorcas left a quick kiss on her lips she calmed enough to keep working without complaining too much.

The team proceeded to work mostly in silence, save for Marlene and Mary asking Sirius to move a certain way to facilitate the makeover process. Dorcas had a clear vision in mind and she instructed the other girls with great mastery and confidence. Sirius was unusually obedient and calm, mostly because his parents weren’t hovering around and fueling his instability, allowing the girls’ job to proceed rather smoothly. 

“Good morning, ladies.” Regulus returned to the makeup station after a while. He smiled at Sirius, surprised to see just how well behaved his brother was being. He then greeted Dorcas, Marlene and Mary with a quick, polite half hug. “Thank you so much for joining us today, I appreciate it.” He exhaled; he was loaded like a spring.

“Don’t mention it, Regulus.” Marlene shrugged and punched Regulus’ arm friendly, holding a hairbrush in her fist. “Are you excited for your big debut?” She cheered, shaking her shoulders.

“Er-” Regulus flinched, rubbing his arm. “I just talked to the director and he’s feeling pretty positive about my participation, so I try to stay positive myself.” He sighed.

“I can’t wait to see the design you created.” Mary chanted, blowing some excess powder off of Sirius’ forehead.

“Yeah, me too.” James appeared seemingly out of nowhere, putting his camera on the make up table, right next to Mary’s eyeshadow palettes. “Can’t wait to be the first one to photograph a REGULUS BLACK on the catwalk.” He giggles, winking playfully at the designer, who rolled his eyes in return.

“Jamie!” Sirius jumped off his seat right when Mary was drawing the wing of his eyeliner, leaving a long, thick black stroke all along his cheek. He ignored her frustrated cry, and the muffled insults she threw at him for having ruined a whole forty minutes of work and for forcing her to restart all over. He didn’t care, it didn’t register in his mind that he did something wrong, he just jumped into his best friend’s arms, squeezing James as if they hadn’t seen each other in ages. “You’re here as well!” Sirius smiled so brightly that James almost managed to ignore the dark bruise on his cheek for a second.

“Of course, gorgeous!” James hummed, carefully hugging his friend back. Sirius looked and felt skinnier than he did just days before, as if the slightest pinch could make him crumble. James swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to keep eye contact with Sirius as to not to focus on the bruise just a mere inch under his eyes. “I wouldn’t miss this historic event for anything!” He smiled a little too forcibly, but Sirius didn’t seem to notice.

“When Regulus shared the news with us, we knew we all had to be here!” Lily was there too, looking more excited than ever. “The debut of Regulus Black himself will be the greatest scoop of the month! We want to be the first ones to interview the new star of the fashion industry!” 

She nudged at Severus, who was by her side as always. With a notebook in his hand, and a pen in between his greasy hair, he looked like quite the sore thumb in the backstage of a runway show. He didn’t acknowledge the rest of the group, though the tension in his shoulder betrayed at least a hint of excitement about the whole ordeal. 

“It means a lot to me that you all believe in me, I really appreciate that. I will do my best to not let you down.” Regulus’ lips curled ever so imperceptibly upwards, a shadow of a timid smile adorning his tense face. When he noticed the black eyeliner stroke on Sirius’ cheek, though, he exhaled, squeezing his brother’s shoulder and trying to pry him off of James. “Sirius, come on, sit down and let Mary do her job. You spoiled brat, Potter can hug you anytime.”

“But I missed him!” Sirius whined, but he reluctantly let go of his best friend, who gave him one last squeeze on the shoulders as a treat. 

As everyone went back to their pre-show duties, Sirius sat back on the makeup chair, shutting his eyes as Mary reprimanded him. She roughly wiped Sirius’ face clean, although still being mindful of the side of his cheek that was bruised, and he didn’t feel like he had the right to complain. So, Sirius went still and silent for a while, listening distantly to the conversations happening around him.

Marlene seemed to find Mary and Sirius’ beef to be quite amusing and entertaining. She kept elbowing Dorcas gently every time Mary scoffed at the supermodel, barely containing her chuckles. Dorcas wasn’t as thrilled at the situation as her girlfriend, of course she wanted her team to work in harmony to ensure the best result, but she still endured Marlene’s glee with a soft smile.

Lily and Severus were discussing the drafts of an upcoming article they were working on, and in the meantime they were taking notes on every little interesting detail they caught backstage. Lily appeared curious about every small thing, trying to grasp the mechanics and logistics of a charity event that focused more on the effects of art, rather than art itself, and she kept taking notes on top of more notes with no logical restraints. Severus had a much more organized and focused approach on the motion of gathering information, correcting Lily’s notes on the spot the moment she handed him her papers. He had a sharp, weirdly attentive gaze and nothing escaped him. Sirius found Severus quite scary to be around, so he decided to ignore him and avoid his eyes at all costs.

Sirius tried to focus on his baby brother’s conversation with James. They were speaking in a rather intimate, low tone, and it was hard for Sirius to grasp more than a couple of words each sentence. ‘Super excited’, James said at some point with a bright smile, ‘I believed in you since the beginning’. Regulus seemed to blush a little at that, but Sirius couldn’t hear his response. It wasn’t as if he was trying to eavesdrop, he had no reason to, but he was still curious to know what his sweet brother and his best friend were talking about standing that close to each other, and so far away from the rest of the group. From a third person point of view, Regulus appeared to be quite annoyed by James’ big presence. But Sirius, who knew his baby brother better than anyone else, could clearly tell that the nervous little gestures Regulus was making were more likely a sign of unspoken interest and well-concealed enjoyment. Sirius couldn’t help the strange, gurgling feeling exploding in his lower abdomen. His body had a genuine visceral, uncomfortable reaction at the sight of Regulus and James getting a little too close, a little too snug around the other.

“Good fucking morning, baby Black.” Sirius flinched in his chair when he heard a loud, screeching voice with a thick Cockney accent scream across the venue. He turned as soon as Mary let go of his face and he saw a pretty cool dressed guy with green bangs slap Regulus’ shoulders. “The fucking security guards wouldn’t let us in because they thought we’re some random punks.” The guy groaned, chewing bubble gum loudly.

“Well, maybe that’s because you and Rosier look like fucking punks, Crouch.” Regulus hissed, emphasizing the word fucking with his slightly haughty French accent. He flinched away from Barty’s touch, rolling his eyes.

“Hey! That was rude!” A guy with platinum hair, dressed just as weirdly as the guy with green hair, scoffed. He spoke with a slightly slurred tone, as if his tongue was a little swollen. He was pushing a whole cart of sewing supplies and a huge, unbranded clothes bag.

“He’s not wrong, Bartemius, Evan.” A sweet, oh-too-wonderfully-familiar voice spoke from behind Regulus and the green-haired guy. “Thank goodness we had Pandora with us, she definitely helped make the rest of us look a little more decent.” 

“You boys look just fine, in my opinion! But the security dude did compliment my dress, which was nice!” Pandora smiled brightly, her flowy, pastel blue dress flowing with her gentle movements as she helped Remus walk by grabbing his arm, while he leaned on his new metal crutch with the other.

Sirius jumped off his chair, again right when Mary was about to draw his eyeliner. Sirius could feel the cold stroke of liquid eyeliner straight across his face, and he could hear Mary throwing her hands in the air in defeat, but he didn’t care. He held his breath as he saw Remus, just as beautiful as he remembered even if a little more battered, surrounded by a small group of alternative, weird looking people. Sirius almost dropped down on his knees, mesmerized by the softness of Remus’ face as he smiled softly to greet Regulus. It was a celestial vision, a blessing from the stars, a fateful and much appreciated favor from the universe itself. 

Before Remus even registered what was happening, Sirius was already buried in his arms, slamming their lips together in a desperate, longing, passionate kiss, in front of everyone. Sirius was so ecstatic he could barely keep up with his own thoughts. He shivered, wrapping his arms around Remus’ neck for support and to drag him closer. A small, traumatized part of Sirius was worried about the consequences of continuously repeating the same deeds that inevitably would get him in trouble; yet, a much more vocal side of himself was just too excited to see his boyfriend again, especially after what happened with his parents after their date. 

“Oh, thank you…” Sirius mumbled in between a series of quick, snappy kisses. He smiled, his teeth almost catching Remus’ bottom lips. “Thank you so much for bringing him here, Reggie!”

“Ew, don’t make me regret this dumb choice.” Regulus rolled his eyes, avoiding looking in their direction, gagging at the mere sloppy sound of their messy kisses. “Lupin, you’re here to work, not to make a show out of snogging my brother!”

James, Dorcas and Marlene laughed, looking back and forth in between Regulus’ fussy face and Remus and Sirius acting all lovey dovey as if they were teenagers. Mary looked less than thrilled, basically having to restrain herself from packing her makeup and leaving, but even she smiled a little at the sight. James even tried to extend his hand and formally introduce himself to Remus as ‘Sirius’ best friend and one and only soulmate’, but the two lovebirds were too lost in each other to care about anyone or anything else. Regulus had to physically try to push Sirius off of the semester, much to his brother’s lament, but he quickly gave up when Sirius pressed his mouth harder against Remus’.

“Mh, Regulus, just give me one second please-” Remus managed to escape Sirius’ needy lips for a second, cupping his boyfriends’ face in both hands to take a good look at him. He chuckled at the sight of the messy stroke of smudged eyeliner on Sirius’ cheek, but his smile died down quickly when he noticed the shadow of a bruise on the other, still visible under a thick layer of foundation. “Hi, sweetheart…” He whispered, caressing Sirius’ face with his thumbs.

Remus was gentle and soft to the touch. They kissed again and Remus tasted sweet and intense, filling Sirius’ mouth with his tongue in a slow, careful dance. They found each other instantly, following a steady, progressively more fierce rhythm. The people around them were watching, but nothing really mattered because despite the odds they were back together, more even passionate than the last time. Remus didn’t take any breaks to breathe, embracing Sirius so carefully like he was scared of breaking him. Sirius didn’t grant his boyfriend the same attentive tenderness, instead he squeezed Remus with all his might as to never let him go. 

“Ouch-” Remus winced painfully. He broke off the kiss to fold himself in half, holding his cracked ribs with an agonizing grimace on his face. “Careful, sweetheart, I’m a little broken right now.”

Sirius stepped back in the blink of an eye, inhaling sharply at the terrifying idea of having hurt Remus. Just then he noticed all the little bruises scattered across the seamster’s arms and face, and the unnaturally crooked curve of his contused nose. Sirius tensed up, reaching with a trembling hand to touch a particularly dark bruise. Despite having known violence all his life, Sirius’ brain worked a little too slowly, a little too painfully to grasp the harsh reality of Remus being somehow injured.

“What happened to you, my love?” Sirius sulked, gently pressing his forehead against Remus’ and carefully feeling the newly formed bump on his nose with his fingertips. 

“Nothing you should worry about, mh?” Remus smiled effortlessly, his heart warmed merely by existing in Sirius’ presence. He waited for Sirius’ fingers to fall all the way down his nose until they reached his cupid’s bow, and then he kissed his boyfriend’s hand.

“Yeah, it’s nothing really.” Barty snarled mockingly, hands buried deep in his baggy, torn jeans. “He was just almost beaten to death by your fucking family’s lackeys, why the fuck would you worry about that?”

“W-What?!” Sirius gasped as if he had just been punched in the guts. His eyes widened in horror and he instinctively flinched away from Remus’ touch. “Did Rodolphus and Rabastan hurt you? Did they?!”

“No, sweetheart, don’t listen to Bartemius here, ok?” Remus glared at Barty with a murderous gaze, then he reached for Sirius’ arm and pulled him closer. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about me, please…” He whispered, squeezing Sirius’ hand.

“My sister and I had to buy you a new proper crutch because those dudes beat you with the old cane until it broke, but yeah, let’s dismiss that.” Evan scoffed, rummaging through the sewing supplies cart without even looking up to notice the way Sirius’ face contorted in horror.

“Evan, I don’t think it’s the time and place to-” Pandora tried to dissipate the situation, sensing the tension and heartbreak, but Sirius cut her off with an aching, tortured growl.

“You got hurt because of me!” Sirius retracted his hand with a distressed wince, as if Remus’ skin burned. His eyes were filled with tears, shining like a miniature, desperate galaxy. “Fuck, why are you even here?! You should avoid me, what if they come back for you-” Sirius suffocated a pained sob, too worried, scared and angry to cry.

“Sirius, sweetheart, please-” Remus tried to grasp Sirius’ hand, but the model backed away so violently he almost hit the sewing cart.

“What is going on right here?!” Regulus asked nervously, noticing the commotion. He managed to catch his brother before he fell onto a pit of sewing supplies, needles and pins. “Sirius, are you ok-”

“Did you know what Rodolphus and Rabastan did to Remus?!” Sirius cried out, his chest burning as he desperately tried to catch his breath. “Did you know when you roped him into this? Regulus, what the fuck were you thinking?!” Sirius screamed at his baby brother, backing himself in a corner, with a mix of anger and fear in his eyes.

Regulus was stunned for a good moment, frozen in place with his eyes wide open in shock. He opened his mouth, ready to spat some smart, witty reply, but he shut it immediately. The sight of Sirius shaking like a leaf, his body barely keeping it together, was enough to dry up every ounce of fight inside Regulus. So he just stared, lips sealed, wondering whether to hug his big brother or just let him have a tantrum until he inevitably calmed down due to either exhaustion or defeatness. 

“Whoa, hey, let’s not scream at each other on the day of Regulus’ big debut, ok?” it was James who promptly intervened. He approached Sirius carefully, as if he was a scared puppy, reaching for his arm tentatively. “Sirius, calm down, it’s alright.” James grabbed Sirius’ hand, squeezing his trembling fingers.

“It’s not fucking alright, Remus was injured because of me! He shouldn’t be here, he should be somewhere safe!” Sirius protested, but he still squeezed James’ hand back, absorbing every bit of comforting energy coming from his best friend.

“Remus is not the only one who was hurt, and you know it. Why do you care so much about him when we are in a far worse position?” Regulus clenched his fists, but he tried to keep his tone calm and focused, as to not trigger any further outbursts from Sirius. “It’s not like I’ve forced Remus to be here, he’s just as stupidly lovesick as you are and he joined for your sake.” 

“Exactly.” Remus said firmly. Sirius snapped his neck in his boyfriend’s direction, shivering nervously. Remus smiled ever so softly and he took Sirius’ hand from James’. “Sirius, the only thing I need is to be by your side and I’ll do everything I can to help you and your brother succeed.”

“It’s not worth it!” Sirius whined and squeezed Remus’ hand back a little too roughly. “They cracked your ribs! And look at your nose! My love, I’m not worth it… I can’t stand you getting hurt like this… for me!”

“Sweetheart, believe me, you are worth every single punch and blow to my ribs.” Remus chuckled, but he turned more serious when he noticed the way his boyfriend winced at the mere thought. “I mean it, I care so much about you, I swore eternal love to you on a bench on our first date! I can’t just turn my back on you when you need help the most.” Remus rubbed the tips of their noses together, their lips brushing until the corners of Sirius’ mouth curled in a small, unsure smile.

“Don’t be so fucking dramatic, we’re all knee deep into this, whether we fucking like it or not.” Barty rolled his eyes and he crossed his arms, leaning on Evan's shoulder.

“Mate, you’re much more amazing than you think.” James caressed Sirius’ back, trying to push him a little further into Remus’ arms. “I don’t believe you realize just how much we all want to see you happy and free, and we’re all willing to put in the work to help you get to the top. Your beauty team, your boyfriend, Lily and I, even Snir- Severus. We’re all rooting for you, and for Regulus.”

“It’s just that I-” Sirius lowered his gaze, focusing on the deep hollow space above Remus’ sternum.

“We all care about you, Sirius. I’m doing everything in my power to make this show a big hit and get you out of our parents’ grasp. Can you please calm down and not sabotage everything now that we’re this close to our big breakthrough?” Regulus sighed, clenching his jaw. “Come on, I need you, mon frere.”

“Alright-” Sirius swallowed, taking a deep breath. He looked up at Remus, delighted to find him smiling encouragingly. Sirius reciprocated the smile and he left a quick, gentle kiss on his boyfriend’s lips. Then, he turned to face his baby brother, struggling to hold his firm, determined eyes. “Sorry I freaked out, Reggie.” 

“It’s alright, just- Keep it together.” Regulus sighed and his gaze softened a little for a second, before turning even colder and more focused as he referred to the others. “And you fucks focus on doing your job.”

Regulus knew how to stand his case, and everyone went back to work immediately without hesitation. Remus and Sirius still lingered in a careful, light embrace for a little longer and then they parted with a soft kiss. Sirius reluctantly sat back on the makeup chair to be embellished all over again, while Remus went back to help Pandora unpack their sewing supplies, although he couldn’t really move much due to his injuries. James and Regulus exchanged a knowing, concerned look. They didn’t need to speak any more words to know that they were both worried about Sirius’ declining mental and physical health, and even when they focused back on their jobs they still made sure to check on the supermodel every now and then. 

A little less than a couple of hours before the start of the show, the atmosphere backstage was much more chaotic than what Regulus and Sirius were expecting. They were used to the cold, hyper organized shows directed by their family’s brand, and they were surprised to notice just how wild things could get when tons of unrelated designers and fashion houses reunited to work together. There were people running around, talking over each other. It was overwhelming, especially to Regulus, who found it especially difficult to keep his nervousness under control amongst such distracting chaos.

Sirius, on the other hand, found the chaos comforting. The constant buzzing and the cacophony of voices kept his exhausted mind off of his darker and unwanted thoughts. He focused on the background noises to forget the image of Remus’ broken nose, or the feeling of swollen ribs against his arms when he tried to hug his boyfriend a little too vigorously. It was hard enough to convince himself that he wasn’t at fault for what happened, and trying not to think about it was the only way Sirius could bring himself to walk on the catwalk. Guilt was eating him alive, and no amount of gentle kisses and reassuring speeches could restore the supermodel’s confidence. As Mary kept retouching his makeup, Sirius stole some quick, timid glances at Remus, biting the insides of his mouth. When Mary dabbed Sirius’ bruised cheek a little too hard, he winced, clenching his fists against the armchairs. 

“Sorry, love. I wouldn’t need to be so harsh if you didn’t mess up my work multiple times already.” Mary scoffed, carefully grabbing Sirius’ jaw and maneuvering his face so that she had better access to his bruised cheek. “I know it hurts. But now we’re in a rush and I need you to clench your teeth and stand still. Take it like a good boy, mh?”

Mary kept dabbing the foundation in between Sirius’ swollen pores, struggling to cover the dark bruises. Sirius held his breath, seeing stars from just how painful and agonizingly long the whole process was. The bruise had turned multiple shades of greenish black and purple, making it hard to color match even using a palette with a wide range of cream concealers. Mary frowned deeply. She was beyond frustrated, and she didn’t really need Sirius’ skin to be just as uncooperative as him.

“You’re not used to covering up fucking bruises, I see.” Barty leaned in to analyze Mary’s poor attempt at blending in orange and lilac concealer. He grinned half mockingly, half sympathetically, then he let out an amused bark-like laugh.

“Excuse you?” Mary groaned, rolling her eyes. “I know what I’m doing, so please, just let me work.”

“Well, maybe you know what to do in theory. They probably taught you to cover fake bruises, or something like that— If they even touched the topic in beauty school.” Barty shrugged. “As you can see, covering real bruises on an actual person who’s in fucking pain is not the same thing, and you have no idea what the hell you’re doing. And I don’t even fucking blame you.” He clicked his tongue provocatively, tilting his head to get to Sirius’ eye level. “Why would they teach such fucked up things in beauty school anyways?”

“Listen here, you punk, I know how to do my job perfectly fine, thank you.” Mary sounded unusually annoyed, and it only made Sirius chuckle despite himself.

“Here, let me help.” Barty dove into Mary’s make up set, rummaging messily through her previously neatly stacked stock of brushes, sponges and setting powders. 

“Hey! Don’t touch my stuff-” Mary protested, but Barty didn’t mind her and he stole the cream concealer palette from her hand, dumping his thumb in one of the pots by mistake. 

“Opsie.” Barty chuckled, wiping his thumb on the edge of the literal box of makeup wipes, not even caring to take one and clean himself properly. Sirius didn’t know whether to laugh or feel disgusted and disrespected on his makeup artist’s behalf.

Mary’s jaw dropped in horror at Barty’s filthy behaviour. A low, disappointed growl escaped her throat and she clenched her fists. Dorcas and Marlene immediately stood by her side protectively, more than ready to throw punches for her, rather than help her calm down. But before Mary gave in to the urge to slap some respect into the green haired punk, she let out an exasperated breath and jumped off her seat, throwing her hands up in the air. 

“That's, I’m done!" Mary snapped. "I need- I need a damn cigarette.”

"What? You need a cigarette?" Sirius gasped, his jaw dropping. "Mary Macdonald herself needs a cigarette?"

“Yes! I need a fucking cigarette right now because you boy have stressed me beyond my limits. Is there a problem with that?"

"No it's just-" Sirius bit his bottom lip, feeling a little bad for Mary. She was genuinelly fuming, and it couldn't he good for her mental health. "It's just that you don't smoke, that's all."

"Well, I need a cigarette now, thanks to you." Mary exhaled. "Got any on you, Sirius?”

“Nope.” Sirius shrugged and he clicked his tongue, emphasizing the ‘p’ as condescendingly as he could. Then he pressed his lips in a thin line to avoid smiling. “Reggie wants me to sober up.”

“I’ve got you, Macdonald.” Marlene offered a pack of cigarettes to her friend. “Let’s go outside for five minutes, we earned a little break. You coming, gorgeous?” She turned to her girlfriend invitingly, though Dorcas only gave her a reluctant shrug.

“No, I have to keep an eye on him.” Dorcas pointed her slant finger at Sirius. “I need to make sure he doesn’t spontaneously combust while you girls are off, you can never know what to expect from him. Make it quick, Marls, Mary.”

Mary basically sprinted out of the venue the moment she got Dorcas’ permission, and Marlene followed right up, eager for a moment of peace. Dorcas stayed lurking in the back of Sirius’ chair, while Barty kept rummaging through Mary’s make up bag, as focused as ever.

“Well, well.” Barty hummed, dumping a clean flat brush in the yellowish concealer pot.  “Let me see what I can do.” 

“Hey.” Dorcas smacked Barty’s hand the moment he tried to approach Sirius’ face. She frowned so hard her arched brows almost touched. “Are you sure you know how to do it? Mary definitely doesn’t have time to redo all his makeup again if you mess up.”

“You females are always so paranoid. Of course I know what I’m doing.” Barty rolled his eyes, playing with the handle of the makeup brush. “Don’t you trust me?” He asked, his voice a little high pitched, trying to sound innocent.

“You definitely didn’t leave a good impression, so why would I trust you?” Dorcas tilted her head, studying Barty up and down as if he was a wild stray.

“I trust him, he seems cool.” Sirius shrugged, nudging the green haired punk.

Dorcas sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She played with the spheres of her erl piercing to ease the tension. “Alright. You do you.” Dorcas patted Sirius’ shoulders, squeezing the thin hollow layer in between his protruding clavicles a little too hard, almost like a warning. “But-” She turned to Barty, her gaze menacing. “If you mess up I will call security to escort you out. And Regulus will probably kick your ass, as well.”

“Fair.” Barty nodded, a smirk on his face. He clicked the tip of the makeup brush handle against the edge of the palette, then he pinched Sirius’ chin to reposition his head. “Cool, then. Show me your pretty fucking face, Black.”

Sirius gave Barty full access to his face, letting him paint over the bruise with sapient, gentle strokes. Barty was focused, mixing up shades from the palette like an artist before a blank canvas. He built up various thin layers of concealer, working his way through every black and purple spot with uncharacteristic patience and care. Sirius didn’t even feel any pain, even when Barty began blending the concealer, dabbing the bruised cheek at a calculated rhythm, almost in unison with the underlying throbbing right beneath the skin.

Barty looked particularly comfortable in his position. His tongue was sticking out as he color matched the perfect shade of orange concealer to cover the darkest post of the bruise. He stamped his foot as he sang to himself, mumbling the words right besides Sirius’ ear.

“Non resisto più- prendo un vasetto, scelgo il gormita da metterci dentro. E non resisto più!” Barty hummed amusedly, fixing another layer of concealer with a thin layer of translucent powder. “Estraggo l’uccello poi sborro furioso sul prode guerriero. Sborra che sgorga lo avvolge pian piano-” Barty reached a particularly high note, grimacing to compliment himself before going back to his task. “Nel mentre io urlo, sono indemoniato. Digrigno i denti, ce l’ho di cemento, le tempie mi esplodono dal godimento.”

“What the fuck are you singing about?” Sirius snapped after a while, his eardrum almost bursting after yet another particularly screeching high note.

“Sh, I sing to focus. This song a fucking masterpiece of Italian music, you wouldn’t understand.” Barty rolled his eyes, pissed off that his musical moment had been interrupted right in the middle of his performance.

“That sounded pretty weird. I speak French, so I caught just a couple of words and it didn’t seem like your classic, romantic Italian song.” Sirius lifted an eyebrow.

“It’s the most fucking romantic song I know, shut the fuck up.” Barty lightly slapped the unbruised side of Sirius’ head, immediately triggering Dorcas’ reaction, who slapped the back of Barty’s head in response.

Sirius chuckled and Barty didn’t protest in the face of Dorcas’ authority, he simply shut up and went back to work. Sirius managed to catch a glimpse of his face through the window behind Barty’s back and he was delighted to notice that the bruise had almost completely disappeared. Barty was very careful when he dabbed a thicker layer of concealer on a particularly swollen and dark area of the bruise, trying not to hurt Sirius, who couldn’t help but wince a little for the first time since the process began.

“It was your father, wasn’t it?” Barty asked a little too seriously, his voice dropping.

“Shut up.” Sirius glared at the green haired punk defensively. “What gives you the right to make assumptions?” He clenched his jaw, his perfect wisdom teeth clanging in the back of his mouth, right where the throbbing from the bruise was at its worst.

“It’s not a fucking assumption, I know what the fuck I’m talking about.” Barty rolled his eyes. “Fathers’ punches are the fucking worst, they leave the most painful fucking marks. I can recognize ‘em no problem.”

Sirius hesitated for a second, taken aback by the firmness and seriousness in Barty’s voice. He lowered his gaze, hoping Dorcas wasn’t listening. He was suddenly feeling too seen, too exposed and saw. “You speak from experience.” Sirius murmured.

“Most fucking definitely.” Barty shrugged, fixing the last bit of Sirius’ makeup before fixing it all up with powder and setting spray. “My dad throws the lamest punches, but somehow they always fucking hurt, y’know?” 

“Yeah, I know.” Sirius sighed in defeat, closing his eyes as Barty sprayed his face. 

It was weird. Sirius could still feel his face throbbing and aching, even though he had endured worse beatings and the pain had never lasted as long as when it was his father’s punches. When Sirius opened his eyes, he saw the most sincere understanding in the depths of Barty’s eyes, and Sirius wasn’t too sure that he was prepared to welcome that much compassion. Sirius had to fight back the urge to run and hide, to cover up his shame before anyone else could offer him even the tiniest amount of pity. But instead of running, Sirius focused on the tattoos on Barty’s arms, mesmerized by the intricate splotches of ink.

“I like your tattoos.” Sirius bit the insides of his mouth as he spoke, trying to change the subject. His eyes traveled along the edges of a particularly big tattoo of a snake which covered the entirety of Barty’s biceps and disappeared under the sleeve of his t-shirt.

“Thanks, they fucking rock.” Barty snarled proudly, rolling up his sleeve and exposing the head of the snake hidden underneath. 

A strained whoa escaped Sirius’ throat as he looked at the full snake tattoo. His eyes wandered through every inch of Barty’s skin, admiring the tiny and bigger tattoos that covered him like a series of angry frescoes. Sirius found the black spider’s legs climbing up Barty’s neck to be the coolest thing he ever witnessed. 

“I always wanted to get a tattoo.” Sirius admitted bitterly. “My parents wouldn’t let me ruin their canvas, so I never got one. Maybe in the future, when I tell them to go fuck themselves.”

“Oh, really? The fucking coincidence, I happen to be a tattoo artist in my spare time. Just tell me what you want to get tattooed and I can make it happen in no fucking time.” Barty’s mad smirk grew wide.

“Don’t listen to him, Black, you definitely don’t want to get tattooed by my lovely fucking psycho.” Evan wrapped his arms around Barty’s neck, hugging him from behind a little too forcibly. He bit his boyfriend’s lobe before leaving a kiss on his temple with a loud smack. “Barty is self taught and he can’t get his lines straight for the life of him.” 

“I fucking hate the concept of straight, it’s a matter of fucking principle.” Barty scoffed, tilting his head to the side so that he could trap Evan in a hungry kiss, torturing his boyfriend’s still healing tongue with his own.

“Also, Sirius… you look like a sick Victorian child, you’ll definitely die the moment the needle touches your frail skin.” Evan managed to mumble in between the kisses, whining a little when Barty bit his new tongue piercing.

“I don’t look like a fucking Victorian child, and I can handle the pain just fine, you dumb blonde.” Sirius protested, his face contorting in a little pout that ironically made him look much younger and actually made him look closer to the image of a sickly Victorian child, with his hollow cheeks and battered face.

“Hey, don’t insult my fucking boyfriend, or you can forget about getting you fucking tattoos from me.” Barty stuck out his tongue. He reluctantly moved away from Evan just to point an accusatory finger right in between Sirius’ eyes. 

“Calm down and focus on what you're doing, you punk.” Dorcas admonished, yet she had the shadow of an amused smirk lurking on the side of her lips.

Barty grinned and kept applying the makeup on Sirius’ face, while Evan leaned on his shoulder to check on his work. Dorcas was impressed with Barty’s skills to say the least by Barty’s skills and unexpected tenderness in dealing with Sirius and in a matter of minutes the bruise on Sirius’ face had disappeared.

“Are you done with your makeup, Sirius? I saw Mary smoking outside-” Regulus clicked his tongue as he checked Sirius’ face through the mirror. He frowned deeply as he noticed Barty holding the makeup palettes and brushes, connecting the dots. “Well, I don’t have time to get angry. At least you did a good job, Bartemius. My brother hasn’t looked this good in years.”

Barty winced a little at the way Regulus called him by his full first name, but he smirked proudly and even made a little reverence at the compliment for his work. Sirius rolled his eyes, only gaining a little chuckle from his baby brother. 

“Thanks, Reggie.” Sirius groaned. Regulus had that unusually mischievous look in his eyes that Sirius missed so much from their childhood. It made Sirius feel safe enough to ask: “Listen, uhm… When we’re out of our parents’ house, can I get a tattoo?”

“Er- Yeah?” Regulus lifted an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“I mean- I will be your main model when you’ll officially start your brand after today. Don’t you want me to be, like… A blank canvas for you to style?” Sirius shrugged, biting the torn insides of his mouth anxiously.

Regulus hesitated for a second, studying his brother’s face to grasp what was going on inside that thick, traumatized head. 

“Sirius, It’s your body, you can do whatever you want with it.” Regulus sighed, tilting his head a little. He attempted a crooked smile, which didn’t look as comforting as he wished through the mirror, but it still managed to lighten Sirius’ mood. 

“Really?” Sirius’ eyes widened as he straightened his back.

“Yeah?” Regulus hummed.

“Oh, Bartemius, you just got a new client for life!” Sirius exhaled happily. His glossy lips stretched in a wide grin as he lightly punched Barty’s shoulder.

“Don’t fucking call me Bartemius, ugh-” Barty groaned, rolling his eyes and gaining an amused grin from his boyfriend. “The first thing I’m going to tattoo on this motherfucker is a fucking huge dick in the middle of his fucking forehead-”

“Alright, you can think about tattoos later when we’re done with the most important runway show of my life.” Regulus snapped. “It’s time to get dressed, Sirius. Your- Your boyfriend is waiting behind the changing curtain. Don’t snog him, just go get dressed fast. We’re late-”

Sirius didn’t listen to anything else his brother had to say, as the mere mention of Remus immediately set him in motion. Sirius jumped off the chair and sprinted towards the changing room. He almost ran over Lily and Severus, who were standing nearby checking each other’s notebooks. When Sirius finally reached the changing room, he slid inside silently and threw himself in Remus’ arms with no warning.

“Woah, ouch-” Remus hissed, trying and failing to reciprocate Sirius’ sweet embrace. He pressed a hand against his injured ribs and bit his tongue as his face turned an intense shade of red due to the pain.

“Fuck, I- I forgot you’re injured…” Sirius gasped, jumping back immediately. His hands trembled a little when he tried to reach Remus’, who immediately took them and intertwined their fingers together.

“It’s alright, my love.” Remus smiled so softly it made Sirius’ chest tighten. “I missed you so much, I don’t feel any pain when I’m with you.” He insisted, leaning down on his crutch to leave a soft, quick kiss on Sirius’ lips.

“You’re such a terrible liar!” Sirius whined, pressing his forehead against Remus’. “I’m so sorry, really… I love you.”

“I love you too, and everything is fine. I promise.” Remus hummed softly as he left a trail of delicate kisses from the tip of Sirius’ nose up to his forehead. Then, Remus cleared his throat and smiled again. “Let’s get you dressed, shall we?”

“Mh…” 

Sirius hesitated, looking at himself in the mirror. He chewed his lips nervously. He dreaded the idea of undressing in front of Remus after what his father had done to him, knowing that the bruises and cuts on his back were still achingly present. It was humiliating and terrifying. But at the same time, Sirius wanted Remus to see and understand his pain. He wanted his boyfriend to kiss the fear and shock off his skin, and he wanted to feel safe in his arms. Remus would understand, Sirius had no doubt about it, because they went through the same horrific punishment simply for being too in love with each other. Remus was the only one who could understand, in fact. He was the only one who felt on his own skin both their passion and the hurt. Sirius trusted that Remus would understand and be the best boyfriend ever about the bruises on his back. Sirius just didn’t want Remus to worry and blame himself, because that was exactly what Sirius instinctively did when he found out about Remus’ own injuries. 

With shaking hands, Sirius reached for the hem of his shirt and he lifted it over his shoulders. Remus’ horrified gasp came almost immediately. Sirius could feel the weight of his boyfriend’s gaze on him even with his back turned.

“No-” Sirius breathed in sharply, instinctively curling up a little to hide the evidence of the abuse. “No, I know what you’re thinking. It’s not your fault, and it’s alright, it doesn’t hurt-”

“Who did this to you?” Remus clenched his jaw, his usually gentle eyes glaring with so much horror, anger and distress. He cupped Sirius’ face with both his hands, carefully caressing the corner of his eyes that were slowly but inevitably filling up with tears that he couldn’t shed. “Who hurt you? Who dared lay a finger on you?”  Remus asked again, his voice cracking a little.

“My father.” Sirius replied honestly, with no hesitation. He saw no point in lying, or keeping up a facade, let alone protect his family’s reputation after everything that was done to him. 

Speaking the truth was liberating, but bittersweet. 

Sirius watched with unfettered satisfaction as Remus tensed up, as if the words had hurt more than any blow the Leastranges had thrown at him. His hands were warm against Sirius’ cheeks, radiating pure love through his evident heartbreak. Remus touched Sirius as if he was the most precious thing in the universe: so careful, so gentle. Yet his fingers were trembling and tensing with the sheer amount of anger he was feeling. Remus was about to snap, but Sirius still felt so infinitely safe.

“I won’t let him harm you ever again.” Remus growled, his Adam’s Apple vibrating in a way that made Sirius’ insides twist with primordial desire. “You’re never going back to that house.” Remus kissed the bridge of Sirius’ nose, lingering a little too long.

“Not after today, no.” Sirius grinned maniacally, his whole body shaking in anticipation. He attacked the inviting space under Remus’ jaw with his lips and teeth, kissing and chewing as if his life and sanity depended on it. “Regulus is going to send them bankrupt. My baby brother is going to humiliate my sorry excuses of parents in front of the whole world with his designs, and I’ll never have to model for them ever again.” 

“We need you to shine out there.” Remus gently squeezed the back of Sirius’ neck, positioning his boyfriend’s head so that they were looking straight into each other’s fiery eyes. “Let the whole world see just how incredible and powerful you are. Bring your brother’s designs to life so that your parents can never claim you as theirs ever again.”

“I’m going to make people faint tonight.” Sirius bit his lower lip, tilting his head a little to catch the glimmering, determined shine in Remus’ eyes from a new angle.

“Of course you will.” Remus left one last quick kiss on Sirius’ lips, leaving his boyfriend aching for more. But they had other things to worry about. “Let me grab the outfit.” Remus said before letting go of Sirius to pick a black garment bag.

Sirius felt so cold without Remus’ hands and lips on his skin, but he was determined to handle the distance for a while and work his ass off that night so that he could be allowed to enjoy his boyfriend’s warmth freely whenever he wanted. Sirius observed with curiosity as Remus carefully took a masterfully crafted leather suit out of the garment bag. It was so clearly one of Regulus’ boldest designs, one that Sirius had seen pop up in his sketches many times in the past. A signature design of sorts, which embodied everything Regulus’ art stood for.

Remus helped Sirius get into the baggy, structured pants and into the huge and angular coat that almost seemed to swallow Sirius whole. The piece looked like a thick, unbreakable piece of armor, engulfing Sirius like a life size shield. The shiny, black leather seemed to capture the light and redirect it as if it was a weapon. Every seam followed a geometric pattern, with leather belts looping all around the legs of the pants and the sleeves to create an interesting sequence of lines and angles that made Sirius look sharper and tinier at the same time. The suit showcased both strength and vulnerability. It was the most beautiful piece of clothing Sirius had ever seen on himself. 

“Regulus truly outdid himself with this one…” Sirius spoke softly, checking himself in the mirror. He felt gorgeous, and most importantly he felt like himself for the first time since he started modeling.

“And you haven’t seen the best part yet.” Remus’ smile widened as he reached for a box in the corner of the changing area. He pulled out a huge head piece made with tons of thin leather strings filled with boning which curved at an angle. It looked heavy, but well structured enough that it didn’t look too uncomfortable to wear. It was a statement piece most and foremost. “It took me, Barty and Evan the whole night to finish the hat. I haven’t slept in two days, but I think it was worth it, uh?” Remus shook his shoulders proudly.

“Remus, this is incredible!” Sirius cheered, mesmerized by the intricate intertwining of leather and curves. “But please, don’t sacrifice your sleep again…”

“I’ll sleep plenty when I don’t have to worry about your parents hurting you.” Remus spoke solemnly, leaving a kiss at the back of Sirius’ head, right under the bun Marlene had done to hide the bald spots. 

Sirius shivered, feeling the warmth of Remus’ lovely kiss all the way down his spine. He leaned into his boyfriend’s arms once again, in hope that Remus’ love could recharge his energy battery.

“I won’t disappoint you.” Sirius whispered.

“I have no doubts about that.” Remus hummed, gently rubbing his cheek in the hollow space in between Sirius’ neck and shoulder. Sirius found the texture of Remus’ scars against his skin incredibly soothing. “You’re beautiful.” Remus murmured.

“Say that again-” Sirius begged hungrily.

“You’re beautiful.” Remus insisted.

And Sirius believed him.

Even while looking in the mirror and seeing the mess of a man he was, Sirius believed that he was still beautiful, because Remus was all of him and Sirius trusted him. Because Remus had that special glimmer in his eyes that he had only when he was looking at Sirius, and it was warm and welcoming like nothing else in the universe. Because Sirius needed to be beautiful for his boyfriend, and it didn’t matter what the rest of the world thought. At least, it wouldn’t matter anymore after the runway show, after getting rid of his parents. 

“Let’s show how beautiful you are to the others so that Marlene can put the headpiece on you, alright?” 

☆☆☆

Regulus never had the honor of seeing one of his designs worn the way they were intended to before. That was a little stressful in the days coming up to the runway show, because doubt inevitably found its way in Regulus’ mind. What if the designs didn’t actually work the way they were supposed to? What if his art only looked good on paper and not in real life? What if Sirius wasn’t as enthusiastic as Regulus hoped to wear designs that were so different from what he was used to?

But every doubt that ever formed in Regulus’ mind was dissipated the moment his brother came out of the changing area. Sirius had never looked better. The design looked incredible on him, and Sirius was smiling so brightly. A smile that Regulus had long forgotten, because Sirius hadn’t smiled that way since they were children. Sirius looked like his true bold, obnoxious, confident self for the first time in ages, and Regulus couldn’t help but feel proud of himself for having dug that side of his brother out of his sheel. 

"Oh là là!" James gasped, slightly mocking Regulus and Sirius’ mild French accent. He adjusted his glasses, as if his eyes were deceiving him. “Sirius, you look gorgeous!” 

“I know, right?” Sirius grinned, striking a pose. “Reggie, I hope you’ve got a back up for this design, because I’m never taking it off!”

“We barely had time to make this one, let alone a back up.” Regulus sighed, his all knowing eyes searching for any possible detail out of place, but there weren’t any. The design was perfect, Sirius was perfect, everything was perfect. He smiled. “You look incredible. Thank you, I’m so glad you’re the one wearing my design.”

“Thank you for trusting me, mon petit artiste.” Sirius winked, sitting back on the makeup chair to let Marlene work on the headpiece. 

“Well, that’s a huge hat if I ever saw one.” Marlene lifted an eyebrow, but she immediately went to work, positioning the head piece and securing it with bobby pins following Regulus’ directions.

The headpiece was indeed huge, curved and architectural. It covered most of the side of Sirius’ face that was still sore and bruised, giving the whole look a rather mysterious yet imponent vibe. The headpiece was built in a way that balanced both light and shadow, leaving Sirius’ piercing eyes clearly visible through the gaps of the leather straps and structured boning.

“Wonderful.” James commented as he stole a picture of Sirius getting ready. He checked the result on his camera display and he let out a satisfied chuckle. “I’ve never photographed anything like this before and I love it.”

“Thank you for your feedback, Potter.” Regulus couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Everything looks great together, even better than I thought… But it’s still missing something…”

“Is it? I think it looks amazing, especially on camera-” James tried to argue, but Regulus promptly shut him up.

“Sh, let me think.” Regulus groaned. “Mary, can you come here for a second?” 

Mary staggered through towards Regulus, coughing violently. She looked terribly drained, as if she was about to pass out. "This is the last time I'm smoking." She muttered to herself, swallowing to ease the burning in her sore throat.

Regulus lifted an eyebrow, looking at Mary first, then at Marlene who just shrugged, an amused smile on her face. "Is everything alright, Mary?" Regulus asked.

“Yes, whatever. What do you want, Regulus? Why aren't you asking the punk over there to do my job, uh?” Mary glared at Barty from across the make up station, crossing her arms to show just how offended she was.

“Why are girls always so dramatic?” Barty rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue provocatively.

“Shut up, Crouch.” Regulus snapped. He furiously searched through his phone, checking a couple of Pinterest boards he had created for inspiration. “Mary, can you make something like this on the eye that’s fully exposed?” He showed her a picture of a very bold make up look.

“You want me to draw a graphic eyeliner star on Sirius in less than five minutes, I believe?” Mary sighed.

“Yes.” Regulus nodded. “Please?”

Mary thought about it for a second, then she shrugged. “Alright. But just because I love you, Regulus.” She picked up her eyeliner pen and pointed it at Sirius menacingly. “If you move I will cut your head off, ok?”

“Why are girls always so dramatic?” Sirius gasped way too dramatically.

“That’s what I’m saying!” Barty threw his arms up in the air, only gaining a murderous look from Mary and the other girls.

Despite the pressure, Mary managed to draw a precise and bold graphic eyeliner star on Sirius right in time before the start of the show. And Regulus was completely right, it brought the look together masterfully. It made Sirius’ eye pop, especially in a moment where Sirius had too much to communicate to the world of fashion through his angry, exhausted gaze. The makeup choice was like purring a microphone right in front of Sirius while he was screaming, it made the whole venue quake with sheer desperation.

“Perfect.” Regulus nodded in approval when he saw the finished look. “You look angry.”

“I am angry.” Sirius smirked, looking at himself in the mirror. 

“Then make them regret everything that they ever did to us.” 

Sirius and Regulus shared one last intense, knowing look before getting ready for the show to start. Through their eyes, so similar yet so different in the way they shone, they shared many unspoken words. In one glance, they recognized each other’s years of suffocated suffering and hopes for the future. They didn’t smile, but they felt it all: the trust, the love, the fear. They were going to get their revenge, together.

Regulus joined Lily and Severus in front of one of the displays besides the show directors to watch the runway from the best angle. He was anxious, though he refused to let it show. Whenever Lily and Severus weren’t looking, Regulus was biting the insides of his mouth.

James slipped through the crowd of photographers and journalists, and he found a perfect spot to take photos at the end of the catwalk. 

The rest of the team gathered around one of the displays backstage.

Remus accompanied Sirius to the back of the catwalk, ready to fix any last minute details and to provide comfort and security before Sirius had to step outside and deliver the best show of his life. They were holding hands, unafraid and unashamed. It was then, when they were alone and far from prying eyes, that Sirius took out an unidentified pill he had secretly snuck into the venue without Regulus knowing. He slipped it in between his lips and he swallowed it dry.

“Don’t tell my brother.” Sirius warned Remus, the tone of his voice changing from loving to dark and serious all of a sudden. 

Remus froze, needing to suppress the urge to stick his fingers in Sirius’ throat and grab the pill with his bare hands before it could reach his boyfriend’s tortured stomach. He stared down at Sirius with eyes filled with worry and a hint of something akin to disappointment, but also so much care.

“It’s just one.” Sirius insisted, looking away before the mass of feelings in Remus' eyes could dissipate the energy boosting effect of the pill. “I really need ‘em. At least for today, alright? Then I’ll work something out and I’ll get my life together.” 

“Ok.” Remus exhaled, swallowing hard. His upper lip twitched involuntarily as he forced the words out of his throat: “I love you, you know that right?”

“Yeah.” Sirius smiled, straightening his back. “I love you, too.” He said just as the host was done with the opening speech and the music started playing, signaling the start of the show.

Without skipping a beat, Sirius stepped onto the catwalk confidently, setting an unforgiving pace for the models behind him. 

☆☆☆

When Sirius walked out on the catwalk, each step meticulously in beat with the music, Regulus was about to throw up. The reality of what they were doing hit Regulus like a train, it all felt too real all of a sudden. There was no going back for either of them. The photographers began showering Sirius and Regulus’ designs with flashes, immortalizing their rebellious act from every angle. It was officially happening, they were cutting ties with the past and showing the world what they were capable of on their own. Audience members were recording on their phones, and some were already sharing glimpses of the runway show on their socials. Regulus was shaking at the idea that their parents would know even before the show was over.

“Oh, the audience is loving him!” Lily cheered brightly, clenching her notebook in excitement.

Severus on the other hand looked just as focused as Regulus; he didn’t let any emotions slip through his face. He took notes as Sirius walked, only getting distracted for a second when the model struck the most daring pose at the end of the catwalk. The audience gasped so loudly it could be heard clearly even backstage through the loud music. Severus scribbled on his notebook as Sirius walked backstage, the leather design shining under the spotlight.

“Dude, you sure know how to walk!” Evan laughed in excitement, welcoming Sirius backstage with a high five.

“Yeah, you did fine.” Barty scoffed, not even trying to hide the hint of jealousy in his voice. He pushed his boyfriend away from Sirius, showing him his teeth like a wild animal marking his territory. 

“Someone’s jealous!” Pandora laughed, winking at her twin brother. 

“Calm down you two, Sirius is mine and I’m not about to share him with anyone.” Remus chuckled, slipping a hand behind Sirius’ back and kissing him softly on the lips. “You were on fire on that catwalk.”

“Thanks, my love.” Sirius grinned, reciprocating the kiss. “Did I do well, Reggie?” He then said, shifting his attention on his baby brother.

“More than well.” Regulus nodded. “I’m proud of you.” He said softly, making Sirius giggle in excitement.

Sirius kissed Remus again and again, as if it was the most effective way to let out the waves of feelings flooding his heart. and for the first time he didn’t feel completely disgusted by Sirius and Remus’ open display of affection. Sirius had earned the right to be self-indulgently annoying with just how in love he was. Good for him, Regulus thought. 

“I swear, these are the best pictures I’ve ever taken in my entire career.” James slipped backstage while the show was still running, proudly showing off the pictures he had taken of Sirius during his performance.

Lily and Severus immediately got to work to choose the best photo to accompany their upcoming article, while the rest of the team tried to catch a glimpse of the previews from the tiny display of James’ camera. 

Regulus wanted to join the rest of the team, but as the last models completed their catwalk he could help the surge of panic. He was required to give a little speech to the audience at the end of the show to present his design and his brand. Despite how many times he had secretly rehearsed the days before, though, he still couldn’t find the strength within himself to walk out and present himself to the audience after years spent hidden backstage. Regulus began hyperventilating when no one was paying attention to him. His eyes began to blur and he suddenly forgot every word he had prepared for the speech. It was supposed to be the most important speech of his life and he felt himself slowly breaking at the mere idea.

“Everything is going to be alright.” James nudged Regulus’ arm lightly. Turns out he was actually paying attention. “Sirius killed it on the catwalk. The audience is still in awe.”

Regulus tensed up instinctively at James’ touch, focusing on regulating his breathing and trying to ignore the way the photographer’s handsome features melted in the most reassuring and warm smile Regulus had ever witnessed.

“I-” Regulus swallowed hard, shutting his eyes as to block out the world around him. He wanted to forget the crowd waiting for him, he wanted to forget his parents, the expectations of his teammates. “I don’t think I’m ready to go outside and talk to the audience-”

“Of course you are.” James nodded firmly. The little chains dangling from his glasses clinged together making a silly little sound that made Regulus smile slightly despite himself. “I’ll be right in front of the catwalk. Focus on me and my camera, alright?”

Regulus wanted to roll his eyes, but he found himself unable to. Instead, he just stared into James’ eyes for an uncomfortable amount of time, before clenching his teeth and nodding. The speech was the last obstacle between him and freedom. It was the last obstacle between Sirius and a better life. It was the last obstacle between them and the sweet demise of their parents. Regulus had to be brave enough to do his part and succeed. He knew he could do it, James knew he could do it. Sirius trusted Regulus to do it. It had to be enough.

Once Regulus metabolized James’ words, it was like going forward on autopilot. The tension eased, the noises inside his brain became bearable and he felt more grounded and stronger than ever. Before Regulus even realized what he was doing, he was already standing in the middle of the catwalk, right under the spotlight. Sirius stood right beside him, looking radiant and proud of himself. Of Regulus. Of them both. Regulus was handed a microphone and the audience cheered. The reflection of the spotlight almost blinded Regulus. Through the halo of light Sirius smiled, like a good big brother. Regulus felt so small and so incredibly relieved that his hero was there to support him, despite everything.

"Thank you." Regulus paused, his knuckles turning white as he clenched the microphone as if it was the only lifeline keeping him floating and breathing. His eyes scanned the room as if trying to carve that moment into his brain forever. "Truly- thank you, everyone. For being here to witness my debut in the fashion industry."

Regulus breathed in as the audience exploded enthusiastically. It was hard to conceive that the clapping and cheering were for him, that Regulus was finally the protagonist of his own story. It was terrifying and exciting at the same time. He took a deep breath, feeling his brother’s soothing presence by his side, then he continued:

"I believe many of you already know my name, and the baggage I carry because of it. But please, allow me to formally introduce myself.” Regulus swallowed. He found James in the audience, right at the bottom of the catwalk. “My name is Regulus Black. I’m a designer who feels the need to create something—anything—just to breathe. To not fall apart. The piece my brother Sirius is wearing tonight is my first creation…” 

Regulus pointed at Sirius, who showed off the leather suit and headpiece once again. The audience cheered as if they had just witnessed a moment in history. James snapped a photo and he was smiling behind the camera.

"Many of you may be wondering why I’m here on my own, representing my own name instead of supporting my parents brand. That is because I am quite passionate about my designs and what they represent, and I’m not willing to rely on others and sacrifice my artistic freedom in order to succeed. I’ve spent so long being told that art isn’t survival. That fashion is a luxury destined for the few. But for me, art is the only thing that keeps me alive. It’s feeling, love and passion, and there’s nothing more common than this. This piece right here... it’s a representation of my story. Our story-” Regulus clarified, getting a little closer to Sirius.

Regulus paused. He let the silence linger a little. The people in the crowd murmured and snapped pictures, capturing the solemn moment of vulnerability between the Black brothers.

"I know I’m a newbie and I’ve got big shoes to fill. My parents are- well, giants in the industry. And I know I’ll have to earn my spot here. And I will, or at least I will try until my last breath. I thank everyone for having granted me a chance. A real one. To prove that beauty can come from struggle, and that everyone is allowed to enjoy art. That resilience can be just as fashionable as elegance and refinement."

Sirius let out a soft laugh, loud enough for the audience to hear.

"I’m grateful to everyone who made my debut possible. My amazing team- every person who believed in me when everything seemed to go against us. My brother, who’s my biggest inspiration, who’s been supporting me ever since we were children. And my parents, who taught me everything I know and gave me a reason to create art: thank you, too.” Regulus almost hissed the last part through clenched teeth. “You gave me something to push against."

Someone in the audience choked, someone gasped, others cheered. Regulus didn’t hide the resentment in his voice as he spoke about Orion and Walburga and he could see the journalists in the first row salivating as they tasted the spiciness of their newest scoop. James gave Regulus a thumbs up, urging him to keep going, to keep being petty, to keep taking his sweet revenge.

"This is just the beginning.” Regulus announced and it sounded a little too much like a warning. “I’m here to fight for art. I’m here to fight for everyone who’s ever been wronged by the fashion industry. Thank you for having witnessed the first Regulus Black ever, I promise there will be more soon. Until then, stay creative. Goodnight.”

Chapter Text

 CHAPTER 10:
Breaking point: The House Always Collects

The runway show ended. The charity had managed to raise quite a hefty amount of donations and everyone was ecstatic. The clapping of the audience slowly faded into silence. The spotlights were turned off. People backstage began packing and leaving. All of a sudden, the dream was over and Regulus Black could only ask himself one question as he watched his big brother take off his makeup, revealing the darkening bruise that had been hidden under there the whole time:

What are we going to do now?

Coming home after flipping their parents off in front of the media and the entirety of the fashion industry and more definitely wasn’t a good idea. Best case scenario, their parents would simply slam the front door right in their faces and both Sirius and Regulus would get disowned that night on the spot. Perhaps Orion and Walburga were already working overnight with their lawyers to make that happen.

Worst case scenario- Well. Regulus didn’t even want to consider a worst case scenario if he could help it.

“You can stay at my place, at least until you both get things sorted out with your parents.” James suggested lightheartedly as the team was heading out of the venue. “I’ve got a pretty big house. Maybe not as fancy as your parents’ mansion, but you’d both have your own room, if you don’t mind having my stuff around.”

“We’ll probably just book a hotel.” Regulus scoffed, dismissing James’ suggestions as some kind of irrelevant, silly joke.

“Come on, don’t make me beg.” James insisted. “We both know you and your brother need some company after today. And with that I mean you two need a bodyguard. I, as you can see, am a pretty big and tough guy and, as I said, my house is big enough for the three of us, so…”

Regulus opened his mouth to protest out of spite and out of habit, but frankly he couldn’t argue with James on that. His big brother and him were in dire need of a safe place to stay - with a heavy emphasis on ‘safe’. Besides, Sirius seemed pretty enthusiastic about James’ suggestion. It was as if they were organizing a sleepover instead of figuring out where to hide from their furious, abusive parents. It always amazed Regulus - or rather worried him - just how much energy Sirius could fill into his broken body, despite everything.

“Come on, Reggie, it’s going to be so much fun!” Sirius laughed obnoxiously loud at his baby brother. 

Regulus’ chest tightened at the screeching sound of Sirius’ laugh, a little too high-pitched, a little too out here. Sirius was on the edge and he couldn’t fool Regulus with his little happy act: Sirius was just as scared as his little brother. 

But Sirius was good at acting, or maybe he was just so disconnected from his own feelings that his body reacted completely on its own. He was still vibrating with adrenaline, squeezing Remus’ hand hard as he dragged him through the parking lot. 

“If I can’t stay with Remus, then I’d rather be with my best friend than staying at a random hotel where they have fixed time for breakfast.” Sirius whined, looking up at his boyfriend like a puppy in need of validation.

“I’d love to have you at my place, sweetheart, but it’s really not a good idea…” Remus clenched his jaw, glaring at Barty, Evan and Pandora wrecking havoc a few steps behind them.

“Which is a shame…” Sirius pouted a little, brushing his thumb against Remus’ hand. “But James always tells me that he has a whole cabinet filled with an infinite stash of instant noodles. We can eat that all day for breakfast, lunch and dinner, fuck my fucking diet!”

“That, and also we can stay up all night watching movies or something-” James said, backing his best friend. “Believe me, Regulus, everything is going to be just fine! I promise I’ll lend you my best spare room, it also has an ensuite bathroom!”

“Ensuite.” Regulus repeated in a condescending tone, correcting James’ pronunciation. “I guess it’s… not a terrible idea. We can stay at your house for a couple of days. I trust that we can sort things out with our parents quickly and then we’ll find our own place.”

“Fantastic! Then it’s decided!” James cheered, patting Regulus’ shoulder. Regulus instinctively tensed up, torn between the urge to push James away and the need to take every last bit of comfort after the trainwreck of emotions that was the charity show. James’ smile just grew even wider, unaware of Regulus’ thoughts, visibly relieved that in the end Regulus didn’t flinch away. “I’m getting my car, you two wait here!” James said and he stormed off excitedly.

Regulus felt a cold shiver running down his spine. His heart had skipped a beat at the sight of James’ smile, and he didn’t like that at all. But what he liked even less was being stuck in the middle of a parking lot with his unstable older brother - who was clearly on the verge of a manic episode - snogging his boyfriend of barely a week like they were about to part for a war or something.

“I’m gonna miss you so much…” Sirius mumbled in between one kiss and the other, completely sprawled against Remus, who was clearly struggling to keep his balance even with his crutch.

“We’ll see each other soon, I promise.” Remus’ tone was warm and reassuring. He left a trail of careful kisses all over Sirius’ face, with particular care around the bruised area. “Take care of yourself.”

“M’key.” Sirius trapped Remus’ lips in an increasingly more intense and sloppier kiss. When it seemed like they were about to eat each other’s face gruesomely, Regulus had to shut his eyes and ears to shield himself from the horrific scene. “I love you.” Sirius whispered, his tongue still pressed against Remus’ somehow.

“Love you, too.” Remus pressed his forehead against Sirius’ and hummed softly. He smiled, sliding his hands around Sirius’ hips and swinging their bodies delicately in a slow dance.

Regulus literally gagged. 

He really couldn’t take another second of his brother rubbing himself against that random seamster who invaded their lives like Sirius owed him something. Regulus couldn’t believe Sirius was naive enough to let that Remus suck away all his delicate feelings and sanity just in exchange for a couple of kisses and who knew what else. Regulus frowned at his brother’s dangerous lack of self-respect and self-preservation. How Sirius could offer all of himself, all of his fragile and delicate self, to the first guy who showed him a little kindness was just beyond Regulus’ comprehension. If it wasn’t for the fact that Sirius was clearly unwell and hurt, Regulus would have screamed at him that he was being stupid and reckless the moment he found out about his little affair with Remus. But Regulus couldn’t scream at his brother, he couldn’t forcibly anchor him to reality, because that would break Sirius faster than any heartbreak ever could. So, Regulus was angry and bitter.

James couldn’t be back sooner. When Regulus saw the headlights of James’ bright orange Lamborghini shine from the other side of the parking lot he sighed in relief. Sirius and Remus separated reluctantly, lingering in each other’s warmth until the very last second. Regulus wished he could erase his memory and forget about every bit of obscenely honeyed display of unjustified affection between those two. The moment James stopped his car right in front of Regulus, the young designer threw himself in the back passenger seat and slammed the door with so much repressed violence that the whole car shook.

“Hey, be careful there!” James grumbled. “The car is new! Well, actually it’s a pre-owned model… But you know what I mean, I just got it last week!” He whined, patting the steering wheel.

“I can’t believe I’m letting you drive me and my brother around in a second hand Lambo, Potter.” Regulus hissed, rolling his eyes. “That’s a new low for me.”

“Oh, Reggie, You’re so out of touch with reality it’s almost adorable.” James snarled uncharacteristically low, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists against the steering wheel. “My car is awesome, by the way.”

Regulus blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift and sharpness in James’ voice. “If you say so.” He shrugged, trying to sound unfazed.

Fortunately, before Regulus could lose himself too much into his own thoughts trying to decipher James, Sirius finally let go of Remus and he got into the front passenger seat with a tiny pout on his face for being forced away from his boyfriend. 

“I miss him already.” Sirius whined, leaning against James’ shoulder, trying to find some comfort in the familiar warmth of his bestest friend. “Oh, Jamie… He is so good to me!”

“I’m glad to hear that.” James chuckled, starting the engine and shivering a little at the sound of it. “How’s your plan to marry him going? Do you have a date already in mind?” He asked, his tone light and cheerful once again.

“Excuse me? Your plan to marry him- what the hell are you talking about?” Regulus snapped from the backseat, glaring at his big brother through the rearview mirror.

“Don’t be such a killjoy, Reggie!” Sirius groaned. “I don’t know if he’ll actually marry me by the end of the month like I had originally planned, Jamie, but that only means I’ll have more time to find the prettiest wedding dress ever.”

“Aren’t you going to ask your little brother here to design your wedding dress?” James asked, gesturing at Regulus in the back seat. He grinned and emphasized the words little brother with a certain screeching tone in his voice.

“I’m not designing a wedding dress for a wedding that I do not approve of.” Regulus clicked his tongue, crossing his arms to make the statement sound more final, more serious.

“Just say you hate me and you don’t want to see me happy!” Sirius clenched his fists and stuck out his tongue in protest. There was the shadow of a smile lurking in the corner of his lips, though, and his voice sounded much softer than when he was actually angry or in distress. “After everything I’ve done for you!”

“Don’t get me started, Sirius-” Regulus growled, his face turning red in a matter of a second. “Eyes on the road, Potter.” He snapped his fingers at James, who was looking at him with a dumb smile through the rearview mirror instead of focusing on driving.

“Ok, ok, jeez.” James laughed softly, amused by the bickering between the two brothers. He exchanged a complicit look with Sirius, but they both stayed silent for a while after that.

James wasn’t a good driver by any means; not that Regulus expected any different from someone who sat so proudly behind the steering wheel of a used Lamborghini. He loved to make the engine roar every time he stopped at a streetlight, he ignored the speed limits whenever he could without risking an accident, and he approached every roundabout as if they were Formula 1 chicanes. Regulus strapped himself tightly and he found himself begging at every turn that James would just slam the breaks instead of challenging fate every chance he got. Sirius, on the other hand, was having the time of his life. James had allowed Sirius to choose the music and he was blasting his favorite vintage rock bands at such a high volume that the whole car was shaking. Sirius laughed and he had to scream above the obnoxiously loud music to chit-chat with James about the dumbest things Regulus had ever heard. For the first time that evening, Regulus regretted having repudiated his parents; maybe he wasn’t made for the wildness of freedom. But then, Regulus focused on the sound of Sirius’ laugh and he noticed just how different, yet distantly familiar it sounded. Like a faraway dream, a lullaby that Regulus hadn’t heard since childhood. It didn’t matter if Regulus didn’t understand nor approve of Sirius’ reckless ways, he still would have done anything to preserve his big brother’s genuine laugh.

Regulus tried to enjoy the rest of the ride, but he couldn’t help the growing uneasiness. He noticed a tiny flicker in James’ eyes as he checked the rear mirror before taking a turn, then a slight quiver of his lips when he surpassed yet another roundabout. There was an unspoken, growing tension pressing down on Regulus’ chest.

“Wait a second-” James hissed all of a sudden, turning the music all the way down.

Sirius jumped in his seat, taken aback. “What? Don’t you like ‘Another one bites the dust’?”

“Shhh-” James shushed Sirius rather abruptly, his tone suddenly more serious and grounded. He frowned deeply as he checked his surroundings through the rear view mirrors.

Regulus began suspecting that something was deeply wrong the moment James made a sharp turn right, then another, then another, and then another until they were basically back at the starting point. He drove in circles for a couple of minutes, tapping the steering wheel anxiously. That’s when Regulus noticed it, a fancy black car following them closely at every turn, despite the fact that they were clearly heading nowhere. He bit his bottom lip, looking uneasy.

“Someone’s following us-” Regulus breathed out. He felt a suffocating lump forming in his throat and it grew bigger every time James took yet another turn and the other car appeared menacingly behind them every single time.

Sirius tensed up in his seat immediately, his eyes wide open as he too frantically checked the rear mirrors. He recognized the car behind them and the people driving it immediately, despite the tinted windows: it was Rodolphus Lestrange’s unmistakable Rolls-Royce. Sirius instinctively grabbed James’ arm, suffocating a strained, panicked little sound. James gritted his teeth, feeling his best friend’s fear flow through his own body, and held onto the steering wheel tightly. They could drive in circles all they wanted, but James knew it wouldn’t take much longer for the Lestranges to realize that they had been caught red-handed. So, James took a sharp turn at the very last moment and then he switched the car to sport mode and hammered down on the gas, speeding off as fast as he could.

Regulus was basically thrown off his seat and against the window by the acceleration force, while Sirius held onto the dashboard for dear life, to no avail. The sudden recoil made Sirius wince in agony as his bruised and tortured back slammed violently against his seat. James didn’t bulge, he didn’t hesitate as he masterfully handled the gears and he began treating the streets of London like a racing track. The Rolls Royce behind them didn’t seem to lose ground, though. James could hear the roaring of the engine of the other car getting nearer and nearer; no matter how dangerously fast they were driving, the Rolls Royce seemed to be a little faster. The wet streets of London made the tires almost slip every now and then, but James held onto the steering wheel tightly, hoping the adverse conditions could slow the Rolls Royce down a little. It didn’t. 

James drove at crazy speed past dark alleyways that felt like they were closing into their car. A particularly deep pothole jolted Sirius against the seat belt, further aggravating his injuries and bruises. The slick, wet asphalt reflected the headlights of the other car into James’ eyes, and it made the tires slip at every turn, but he kept going despite everything. It was a desperate chase. Regulus groaned, squeezing James’ shoulders hard from behind the driver’s seat. He was shaking, holding onto James to keep himself anchored to reality. Sirius’ panicked whimpers drummed inside Regulus’ head like an ominous mantra, a painful reminder of everything that was at stake. Flashes of his big brother laying on the floor, bleeding, aching and bruised, flashed before Regulus’ eyes as James recklessly sped past a red light. The sound of the tyres screeching against the asphalt morphed into the morbid memory of Sirius’ screams and laments. Regulus bit the insides of his mouth, tasting blood. He was terrified. He couldn’t let Sirius fall into the Lestrange’s hands, he just couldn’t. 

James almost crashed into a car, then another, and so did the Rolls Royce behind them. In order to avoid areas crowded with pedestrians, James drove himself into a traffic jam that was almost impossible to navigate safely in normal conditions, let alone at the speed they were going. The cars around them were hitting the brakes, honking horns and throwing insults at them. Sirius hissed in pain every time James had to change gears, making the car shake like a blender. The Lestranges were catching up even faster, and they didn’t seem to care if they hit a car or two in the process. James let of a frustrated FUCK as he desperately tried to avoid a collision.

“Turn right at the next intersection-” Regulus breathed out, his nails digging into James’ shoulders. “The road should be large enough to try a u turn. We could- try and get into the highway against traffic-”

“That’s a suicidal move!” James protested, clenching his fists against the steering wheel. “Do you want to die or-”

“I know, it’s stupid, but it will take them by surprise!” Regulus closed his eyes shut, feeling his chest almost collapse. “And if you know how to use this wreck of a car properly you could reverse the car and go with the flow of traffic until we can get off the highway at the next exit!”

“You’re greatly overestimating my driving skills-” James clenched his jaw, stealing a quick glance at Regulus from the rear mirror.

“You can do anything if you try, James, for fuck’s sake!” Sirius screamed, his bloodshot eyes almost bulging out of his skull. He was hyperventilating, shaking with pure adrenaline. “Just do it!”

James swallowed hard, his hands were sweating so much it was almost impossible to get a proper grip on the steering wheel by that point. But with the Lestranges heeling them, James couldn’t see any other way out of the situation. He breathed in anxiously, his lungs burning as if they were filled with acid. He knew it was a stupid idea, one that most likely could have cost him his driving license in the best case scenario and the lives of the three of them in the worst case scenario. James didn’t have much time to consider other options, other ideas, but he allowed himself one second to wonder if it would be worth it. Sirius hugged himself, horrified, lost and vulnerable, and Regulus looked so scared and small in the backseat; the state of utter terror of the Black brothers was enough to convince James that yes, it was worth it. For them, for justice.

It was as if time had slowed down. James felt like he had been catapulted into another dimension, one where time and space worked in two very different directions. It was hard to navigate the sea of cars coming at James from every direction as he drove across the road horizontally to catapult the car up the deceleration lane against traffic. Regulus mumbled something in French that sounded a little too much like a prayer, meanwhile Sirius was laughing maniacally, barking like a madman. James found it refreshing, how Sirius could find the situation funny. The thing, though, was Sirius wasn’t having fun in the slightest. Sirius didn’t know why he was laughing, he just knew that it helped with the unbearable tightness in chest and that it eased the throbbing between his temples. Regulus was overwhelmed with the urge to slam his big brother’s face against the dashboard just to shut him up and possibly save him more emotional turmoil, but of course he pushed that viscid thought aside. And so, Sirius’ screeching laugh became the unwilling soundtrack of the absurd chase scene.

James managed to get onto the highway with the car still in one piece. The Lestranges almost missed the exit and they were struggling to get to James’ Lamborghini, so at last they managed to gain a little advantage. The trio didn’t have much time to celebrate their little victory, since they were facing the wrong direction on a highway where cars were driving past them as fast as the law allowed. James gathered all his mental strength and he put the car in reverse gear and he began following the flow driving backwards. He had never been more thankful for having bought a car with a rear-view camera. Regulus crawled on the backseat on his knees, looking through the rear window and shouting directions at James anyways. It was a matter of feeling in control, of finding a way to be helpful instead of giving in to fear and helplessness like Sirius was doing, although comprehensibly. James ignored Regulus’ frantic orders and he just focused on keeping the car intact. 

The distance until the first available exit seemed infinite. James’ forehead was damp with sweat and he had been holding his breath since they got onto the highway. He was slowly turning purple. He pushed the car onto the side lane with quite some difficulty, struggling to locate the Lestranges’ Rolls Royce while performing a life threatening stunt at the same time. 

“There they are!” Sirius barked, his facial muscles stretched in the most uncomfortable and uncanny looking grin ever. He pointed at the other side of the highway where the Lestranges were driving recklessly and without a care in the world against the flow of traffic.

“Fuck-” James cried out in frustration. “Those motherfuckers are out of their minds!” 

“No fucking shit!” Regulus snapped.

James pushed the car past its limits. The engine made a mechanic sound, as if the gears were about to jam, but it kept going relentlessly. Regulus and Sirius gasped in unison as James managed to reach the exit miraculously, speeding down the deceleration lane. He hoped that it would be enough to lose the Lestranges, because even if they managed to take the correct exit at the right time, they still would be landing on the opposite side of the highway compared to the trio; all this not even counting the high risk of a crash since they were going full on against traffic. James didn’t hit the brakes until the very last conceivable moment, when he finally changed the gears and drove off finally in the correct direction. He then proceeded driving towards the narrowest streets he found ahead, taking sharp turn after sharp turn with no clear destination in mind, simply trying to blend into the city layout and disappear. And it worked, at least apparently. The Rolls Royce was nowhere to be seen, and the streets became much quieter and welcoming as if nothing happened.

“Did we lose them?” Sirius asked with a rising sense of urgency when James finally started to slow down a little. He checked his surroundings frantically through the rear mirrors, his eyes flickering at the slightest movement on the road.

“I… I guess so?” James took in the deepest breath of his life. His glasses were foggy with all the heat and sweat he radiated during the chase. His hands were shaking so much he could barely curl his fingers around the steering wheel, and he could feel the pounding of his heartbeat echoing in his ears.

“Don’t speak too soon.” Regulus inhaled sharply, clenching his fists to ease the tension. “Rodolphus and Rabastan are quite resourceful. And you’ve got a pretty flashy car, it won’t take long for them to locate the only ugly orange Lambo in the area-”

“Don’t disrespect my car after everything she just went through!” James whined immaturely, trying to ease everyone’s mood. He caressed the steering wheel as he came to a halt at a red light, finally allowing himself a moment of peace. “Don’t worry, sweetheart-” James hummed, referring to the car, “Regulus is just being mean.”

“Do you really call your car ‘sweetheart’, Potter?” Regulus snarled. His voice was slowly regaining that signature sarcastic tone of his, as the fear and adrenaline slowly faded. 

“Sometimes.” James shrugged, enjoying the smooth sound of the engine as he shifted through the gears with no more sense of impending doom. “Got a problem with that?”

“It’s ridiculous.” Regulus chuckled. He began to relax a little against the leather seat, seeing that the Lestranges seemed to have disappeared ever since they got off the highway.

“Oh, shut up.” James rolled his eyes.

“It is ridiculous.” Sirius barked out a horribly cracked laugh. He folded in half on his seat, curling onto himself as his shoulders crackled with every sharp and evidently painful hiccup. “Sweetheart? You sound so much like Remus!”

“You’re supposed to be on my side!” James frowned, lightly pushing Sirius in a friendly way, careful not to hurt him.

“He’s my brother, he is supposed to be on my side.” Regulus clicked his tongue.

James shook his head, but he couldn’t help smiling. He glanced at Sirius, then at Regulus, and he was so grateful to see that they were alright. They had taken a big risk, and James just then realized how lucky they were to have survived the chase without any injuries, and with the car unscratched! Well, sort of; James could feel the way the tires seemed to slip far too easily on the asphalt, and the engine was making static coughing sounds. But it was alright, the car could be fixed, all that mattered was that they were alive and well. 

The chase had taken him to a side of London he wasn’t really familiar with, so he asked Sirius to find the direction on google maps. It was almost as if nothing bad had happened at all. The three of them were chatting and joking, making fun of Sirius’ terrible skills at giving directions. James lowered his guard a tiny bit too soon, and he didn’t even see the Lestrange’s car cutting them off at an isolated intersection.

James tried his best to keep control of the car, but to avoid crashing into the other car he ended up in a head-on collision against a streetlamp. Thankfully he wasn’t speeding, or else the crash could have been fatal. The streetlamp damaged the front of the car and collapsed on top of it with a loud rattle. James hit his head violently against the steering wheel and possibly lost consciousness for half a second. When he came back to his senses all he could hear were Regulus and Sirius screaming and struggling to keep the passenger doors closed. James blinked twice, trying to focus. His vision was blurred and scattered, because the lenses of his glasses broke during the impact. He could feel warm, dense blood tickling down the bridge of his nose. His head kept spinning uncontrollably and he barely noticed when Rodolphus opened the driver’s door unceremoniously.

“Peak-a-boo.” Rodolphus grabbed James’ hair and janked him out of the car. “Game’s over.”

James fell on the ground with a pained grunt. Rodolphus kicked in the face for good measure, shattering whatever was left of James’ glasses. James could feel the shards of glass cutting the skin around his eyes and he stammered in agony. He could hear Sirius’ urgent screams as he tried to climb over the gear lever to get to his best friend, but the other Lestrange brother managed to get the door on the other side of the car open and he grabbed Sirius by his ankles, dragging him back inside the car. Regulus didn’t know what to do, who to help. He wanted to save James, who was bleeding on the ground at Rodolphus’ feet, but he had to get his big brother off of Rabastans’ grasp. 

The struggle was desperate. James was rolling on the streetwalk, knocked on the brink of unconsciousness, while the two brothers fought with his nails and teeth. Sirius managed to wriggle one of his ankles free and kicked Rabastan in the face. At the same time Regulus grabbed the younger Lestrange by the neck and slammed him against the headrest of the passenger’s seat, trying to twist his fingers into Rabastan’s injured hand. 

“Feisty bastards-” Rabastan rasped against Regulus’ firm grip. 

Regulus roared against the younger Lestrange ears, digging his nails deep inside his neck and into the thick bandages covering the stab wound in his palm. “Sirius, run! Fucking run!” He screamed, struggling to keep Rabastan still.

“Yeah, Sirius, run. I’d like to see you try.” Rodolphus mocked Regulus’ desperate pleas and he grabbed Sirius’ arm from the drivers’ door, easily dragging him out of the car. “Come on Stan, let’s get this over with.” The elder Lestrange snarled at his younger brother.

Regulus yelled in sheer horror as he watched Sirius being dragged like a ragdoll, his thin limbs already visibly bruised all over again. Rabastan took advantage of Regulus’ moment of distraction and he began taking the fight seriously. Rabastan easily slipped out of Regulus’ grasp and he overthrew the youngest Black with an effortless manoeuvre. Regulus was no match against the Lestrange’s fighting skills and before he even realized what was happening he found himself immobilized and janked out of the car, his face splattered against the streetwalk.

“You two are coming home with us.” Rodolphus whistled, effortlessly putting Sirius on his shoulder, despite the model’s frantic struggle. “Calm down, you useless whore. Save some energy for confronting your parents. You know, they’re not happy about what you and your brother did-”

“Let go of me!” Sirius screeched, throwing aimless kicks and punches against Rodolphus’ back and torso, though the Lestrange appeared to be completely unfazed. “Let go of me! Regulus! Let go of my brother-!” He cried out as he watched Rabastan pulling Regulus by his collar.

“Oh, shut up-” Rodolphus rolled his eyes, throwing Sirius bodily into the backseat of his Rolls Royce. “I’m so tired of hearing your dumb voice.” Rodolphus scoffed as he smacked Sirius’ face with a backhanded slap when the model tried to climb out of the car one last time.

Rabastan kicked and punched Regulus inside the car as well, basically beating the two Black brothers into a mush. When Sirius and Regulus were too battered, broken and weak to fight back, the Lestranges got into the front seats and started the car as if nothing had happened. Rabastan kept blowing on his injured hand while his brother scoffed, speeding into the dark alleys.

“J-James!” Sirius called his friend desperately. He stammered the name in pain, doubled over as he pressed a trembling hand on his bruised ribs.

Regulus immediately tensed up despite his throbbing muscles. He twisted in his seat until he could peak out of the window, nose pressed against the glass. James was still sprawled on the streetwalk, bloodied and contused, his palms digging into the shredded shards of his broken glasses as he tried -and failed- to push himself up. As the Rolls Royce sped off, leaving tyre marks on the road, Regulus could only watch helplessly as his brother’s best friend was left behind, injured and most likely concussed with no one to help him.

☆☆☆

When Sirius saw the outline of the Black mansion appear in the distance, he regained enough strength to trash and scream again, slamming his whole body into the door handle trying to force it open. It didn’t work, of course, as the Lestrange brother had put safety locks on all the doors. Sirius’s body was burning with adrenaline and desperation, so he didn’t give up. He began kicking the back of Rabastan’s seat, digging his heels deep into the padding and in between the younger Lestrange’s vertebrates, to no avail. The car kept speeding and neither Rodolphus or Rabastan even seemed to acknowledge Sirius’ desperate cries and pleas.  

Regulus, on the other hand, had sunken into his seat and he didn’t speak a word for the entire ride. Sometimes he shot worried glares at his brother, shaking in fear imperceptibly. He wanted to hold Sirius, soothe his pain and make sorry excuses for the pain they were going through. But he stayed silent, grounded by the unmatched fierceness of his brother’s untamable spirit. By the time the car passed the gate of the Black mansion, he had already completely given up on fighting. He just kept his head lowered and his eyes fixed on an indefinite point past his screaming brother, hoping he could just disappear and spare himself the punishment that inevitably awaited them.

Rodolphus parked the car in the middle of the driveway, and he unlocked the doors. Sirius threw the backseat door open and he jumped off the car, trying to drag Regulus with him in a desperate last escape attempt. But Regulus didn’t bulge, he saw no reason in even hoping they could run away by then. 

“Reggie, come on-” Sirius hissed, pulling at his brother’s arm. 

But Regulus retracted his arm abruptly, pushing Sirius off of him. It was an instinctive reaction, a desperate, albeit involuntary attempt at protecting himself. Regulus inhaled sharply, crawling back into the seat, distancing himself from his incredulous brother. 

Sirius froze in disbelief. He stared into his brother’s blank, exhausted eyes, and he realized that everything they ever dreamed of had died at that very moment. All their mutual love and shared dreams for the future were no more. There was only pain, fear and submission. Sirius wanted to laugh at the irony of it all; they had been so close to freedom, and now all their hard work was crushed into crumbles. But Sirius couldn’t laugh, not anymore. His lips curled in a horrifying grimace and in a matter of seconds he was grabbed by the back of the collar by Rodolphus and dragged out of the car onto the driveway. 

Regulus swallowed the knot in his throat, trying to unhear Sirius’ gut-wrenching cries and curses as he tried to twist himself free. Regulus was frozen in fear and resignation, and he didn’t even have the will to feel bad about not at least attempting to help his brother. When Regulus felt Rabastan’s uninjured hand wrap painfully around his arm, squeezing the muscles and bones until everything throbbed and burned, he knew both him and Sirius were done for.

Rodolphus swung the intricate door knocker with one hand, while he pinned Sirius’ head a mere inches from the ground with the other, easily overpowering the injured model once again. Rabastan stayed a few steps behind, holding Regulus firmly as though he had any determination or fight left in him. 

Someone opened the door after a good minute. Much to Regulus’ pleasure and to Sirius’ distaste, it was Mr. Kreacher. He was the old Estate Manager -or rather butler, as he liked to be referred as. He was seen less and less frequently at the Black Mansion, being far beyond the age of retirement, but he occasionally kept track of the guests despite his age. Kreacher was an ancient man, all wrinkly and scrunched, steeped in old-fashioned etiquette. He had an air of superiority that rubbed many people the wrong way, most of all Sirius. 

Kreacher stared at the Lestrange brothers with squinted, disgusted eyes, shaking his head in disapproval. He then lowered his gaze and took a good look at Sirius. Kreacher grimaced at the sight of his least favorite employer reduced in such vile, improper conditions. Sirius bended his neck unnaturally so that he could hold Kreacher’s disdained gaze, granting the old butler an even uglier one. For a moment it looked as if Kreacher wanted to spit on Sirius as if he was nothing more than a flea, but he simply ignored the model and focused on Regulus. 

“Young man, what have you done…” Kreacher shook his head worriedly.

Regulus lowered his gaze in shame. The old butler exhaled and moved to the side, allowing the Lestranges to pull the two Black brothers inside. Sirius had to be dragged from the hair and he still kept fighting and cursing, even as Rodolphus rubbed his pretty face against the marble floor.

“Would you stop embarrassing yourself? Is it not enough that you involved Regulus in your misbehaviour?” Kreacher berated Sirius as he led the way towards Orion’s studio.

“Shut the fuck up, you old rag!” Sirius snarled through gritted teeth, trying to scratch Rodolphus’ hand, which was still buried deep in his hair. “The only ones who should be ashamed are those two spineless motherfuckers, damn Lestranges-”

“Sirius, stop-” Regulus spoke softly, his voice barely audible. He tried to warn his brother one last time, but it was no use. 

Before Sirius could even register his brother’s words, his head was slammed against the floor hard enough to bruise and cut his brown ridge. A thin stream of blood slid down his eyelid and into his eye, then back down his cheek. Sirius didn’t even flinch, he just grinned and kept digging his nails into Rodolphus’ hand.

“I’m really fed up with you-” Rodolphus growled. He lifted Sirius’ head, ready to slam it again on the floor even harder, but he was promptly stopped as the door of the studio flung open.

“Don’t ruin my son’s face.” Orion commanded in a stoic, chilling tone, leaning lazily against the studio doorframe. He was going through one of Regulus’ sketchbooks, one of those he kept hidden in his room far away from his parent’s judgment. “At least do not ruin Sirius’, he needs it to work. The other one, however-” Orion frowned, closing the sketchbook angrily with a loud clap. His lips curled downwards in a grimace, and he stared at his younger son with so much hatred it could have killed Regulus on the spot. “The other one probably needs to get a good dose of overdue beatings-”

“Orion, please…” Walburga’ voice came from deep inside the studio. She hesitantly stepped to the side of her husband, her hands shaking as she grabbed the other side of the door frame for support. “Regulus is not as dense and pigheaded as his brother, I’m sure he can learn if we explain ourselves properly-”

“I thought I told you not to interfere with Regulus’ punishment anymore, you pathetic excuse of a mother!” Orion yelled at his wife, grabbing her forearm so hard it bruised instantly and pushing her back inside the studio. “I let you baby him for too long, now it’s time to fix the mistakes you made and teach that boy some discipline and respect my way-”

“We raised Sirius your way, and look how he turned out! A scum!” Walburga blurted out, pushing her husband right back.

“Sirius is a lost cause, has been since birth, and whose fault is it?” Orion pinned his wife to the wall, ignoring the way his sons gasped at the sight of such unexpected violence against their mother. “You gave birth to a braindead queer, and now you want to ruin Regulus with your spineless cuddling-” Orion had his fist raised up in the hair. It looked as if he was about to slap Walburga right across her face, right in front of their children. 

Regulus couldn’t believe what he was witnessing, but still he couldn’t look away from such violence. It was as if his eyes had been cursed with a jinx that made it impossible for him to ignore the brutality of a good beating. First with Sirius, now with his mother. It felt both normal and horrifying at the same time, as if looking was nothing more but a tedious task that was required of him. Still his heart was pounding in his chest so fast it almost bursted out of his ribs. 

“Father…” Regulus cried, choking on his own tongue.

“Fucking bastard!” Sirius screamed at his father. He too was shocked and he fought back harder against Rodolphus to free himself. 

Sirius couldn’t name the suffocating feeling that was twisting his insides, urging him to fight for a woman that only ever showed him disgust and hatred. Sirius supposed it was the natural loving link between mother and son, a natural instinct to keep each other, no matter what. Even if that link had been served from the very beginning on his mother’s side, who never felt an ounce of love and protectiveness towards her eldest. Even after everything she had done to him. Even after she had starved, humiliated, beaten and broken him, Sirius still needed to keep her safe, even if deep inside he wanted to think that she deserved it.

Walburga closed her eyes and submitted, accepting the upcoming punch with the grace of someone who must have been more used to violence than anyone around her knew. But before Orion could land the hit, Kreacher stepped forward, head lowered as he spoke respectfully.

“Sir, Mrs. Walburga means well. Your son Regulus has always behaved properly, ever since he was a child. I do believe his rebellious brother is to blame for the fiasco that went on this evening.” Kreacher's voice cracked imperceptibly as he stepped in front of Regulus to shield him.

“You both give Sirius too much credit. My flabby son can barely hold a stream of thoughts, let alone can he manipulate Regulus into turning against us- against me.” Orion lowered his fist and he let go of his wife. Instead he pointed the sketchbook in his hand at his eldest son, who still looked up at him defiantly.

“I’m still your son through and through, father.” Sirius spat blood on the marble and laughed hoarsely, the sound wild and cracked. “You’d be surprised at the kind of shit I’m capable of, with such filthy blood running through my veins. Regulus is just a victim of my scheming-”

“Save it!” Orion pushed Rodolphus to the side and grabbed a fistful of Sirius’ hair himself, pinning him to the floor. “You’re just like your mother, you think you’re so smart but you’re nothing but a spoiled brat that needs to understand its place in the world. You’re beneath me. Every word you speak is a waste of air. Every little attempt you make at protecting that coward brother of yours is futile and useless, just like the rest of you. Shut. The. Fuck. Up-”

“Father, I’m sorry…” Regulus couldn’t breathe. There was lead weighing down on his chest, squashing his lungs until they burned. He avoided Sirius’ fierce gaze, he avoided his mother’s pleading eyes. He felt so vulnerable and about to break, and he hadn’t even experienced an ounce of the violence Orion was so willing to reserve to Sirius and Walburga. “I didn’t mean- I-” Regulus stammered, his hands trembling. “Please, father, don’t hurt ma’ and Sirius…” He tried to move. He really tried. He wanted to push his father off of Sirius. He wanted to save his brother, despite silently and ashamedly hoping he could take the pain and blame once again, and make it all better. “I’m sorry-” Regulus whispered, he didn’t know whether to his father, to his brother, to his mother or to himself.

“You’d better be sorry, Regulus.” Orion didn’t even look at his youngest son as he curled his fists tighter around both Sirius’ hair and the sketchbook. His voice was calm and merciless, turning colder and crueler with each word he spoke. “You humiliated your family in front of the whole fashion industry. You made a fool of yourself, hiding behind my name and my hard work. You broke your mother’s heart and hardened mine so much I can barely feel a thing now that I’m looking at you.”

Regulus lowered his gaze, wishing more than anything that he could vanish into the marble floor. A blow straight to his guts would have hurt less than the cruel words his father spat at him, or so Regulus thought. He had never been punched in the guts, especially not by his own father. But Sirius seemed to take the beatings so easily, while Regulus could barely keep himself sane after such visceral insults. Maybe Sirius always had it easier, Regulus thought. Maybe the punches and slaps were a merciful fate compared to what Regulus had to go through everyday; the pressure of expectations, the burden of submission, the pain of being perfect. The thought sickened him, but Regulus found himself almost wishing their roles were reversed. He wished he could feel the coldness of the marble floor against his face, instead of the coldness of his father’s words carving their way into his soul. Regulus had no idea how much a good beating could hurt, but it couldn’t be that bad if Sirius still had the strength to be impossibly insufferable-

“Don’t you fucking speak to him like that!” Sirius sneered, wriggling himself against his father’s grasp. He smudged blood all over the pristine, white marble floor in the process.

“I apologize, father-” Regulus tried to speak over his brother, but his voice was barely audible. A mere whisper compared to the chaos ensuing around him. The words kept tangling at the edge of his throat, and speaking felt almost like vomiting. “I won’t… It won’t happen again. I won’t betray your trust ever again, just… Just, please–”

Orion’s eyes darted in Regulus’ direction. He stared down at his son for what felt like an eternity. Regulus gulped, horrified. He tried his best to hold Orion’s gaze, he tried his best to stay brave and strong, though it was too difficult. His father’s anger and disappointment were unbearable. 

“You’ve deeply disappointed me, Regulus, I hope you know that.” Orion spoke almost too calmly, in such a controlled manner that made him feel like a madman.

“I know, father…” Regulus swallowed, looking at his mother pleadingly. “I understand-”

“No, you don’t.” His father interrupted him. Orion let go of Sirius, throwing him back at Rodolphus, and he began walking menacingly towards Regulus. “You don’t understand. If you understood even half of the consequences of your actions today, you wouldn’t have done any of it. There’s a reason why you need to be kept on track. You’re not as talented as you think you are.” Orion opened the sketchbook in his hand at a random page, grimacing in disgust at the sight of his son’s designs plastered all over it. “We tried to teach you the basics of our art, but you don’t seem to understand.” He tore the page off of the sketchbook, crumpling it and throwing it on the ground, before finally stepping on it. “Do you think you can survive in this industry without us? You can’t. All the applause and cheers you got today were for us, for your mother and I, for our name.” Orion tore another page from the sketchbook. And another one. And another one. He crumpled and stomped over his son’s dreams. “And that little speech you gave in the end- It’s already going viral, you know that, right? What an embarrassment you are- Who do you think you’re fooling, boy? You take everything from us, and now you want to act like the victim. You should be grateful to be a son of mine-” Orion was hovering over Regulus, his fists clenched.

Regulus barely even registered his father’s words. His eyes were fixed on the little torn and battered pieces of paper scattered across the floor, flattened and dirtied under the pressure of Orion’s sole. His eyes filled with unshed tears at the sight. Those were years of lost hard work, studying, perfectioning and dreaming. All wasted as if it was rubbish. Regulus barely even registered his father raising his fist, ready to strike.

“Orion, stop-” Walburga tried to shield her son by clawing her hands at her husband’s sleeve.

“You think this is a game. You think this is a game where the rules can be bent in your favour, because you never had to pay for any of your mistakes.” Orion spat at Regulus, ignoring his wife’s desperation.

“No, father, I just-” Regulus’ throat was burning. The gurgling of stomach acids almost made him double over in excruciating pain. “I just wanted to make a name for myself.” He omitted the rest of the truth. He omitted the trauma of watching his brother be abused again and again since they were children, and the gut wrenching need to keep him safe. Regulus omitted the hatred and disgust he was feeling for his parents for allowing such pain to exist in their sons’ lives. He omitted the desperate desire to run away. “I felt like I was ready to start my own brand-”

“By putting down your parents’ brand?” Orion snapped. “By tearing down the House of BLACK with a pathetic sob story? By twisting the narrative and humiliating your parents as if we haven’t worked tirelessly for years to grant your sorry, talentless ass a future?!”

“I didn’t think-” Regulus suffocated and choked on his own words. A hurricane of regrets flooded his mind: I didn’t think you would get your hands on us so soon. I didn’t think I would fail. I didn’t think enough. I didn’t think I didn’t think I didn’t think I DIDN’T THINK-

“Of course you didn’t think, it seems like you and your brother got that directly from your mother-” Orion grimaced, shaking Walburga off of himself. “It’s alright, though. I’m taking over from now on. You’re not a child anymore. Do you understand that, Regulus?”

Regulus could only nod, trying to keep the tremors in his hands under control. He was feeling slightly dizzy, as if his father’s voice had some kind of secret soporific effect. The marble floor beneath his feet seemed to tilt, and the walls were closing in on him. 

“You’re my flesh and blood. And you’ve inherited my brains, contrary to your brother. He’s pretty enough to survive this world, but you… My Regulus, you need to learn how to use that brain of yours, mh?” 

“Pour l'amour de Dieu, Orion!” Walburga protested, but she was just shoved to the side and her pleas went unheard.

“Everything I do, I do it for your well being, Regulus.” Orion’s gaze softened a little, but his words felt too much like a warning. “I believe you’ve got potential, but you get too easily distracted. You should focus more on listening to your parent’s teachings, rather than doodling useless rubbish all day long.”

Regulus shivered at the cold firmness in his father’s voice. He hesitantly took a step back, trying to get away from Orion, but he was promptly pinned in place by Rabastan. He shot his mother, and then Sirius a pleading gaze. But it was clear that in that moment there was nothing they could do to mitigate Orion’s intentions.

“Maybe those artsy hands of yours get too much in the way, don’t they?” He took Regulus’s hand, turned it palm-up, studying the faded charcoal stains as though they were a flaw, a crime. “It would be much easier for you to sit still and be obedient if you didn’t have those.” Orion had a sinister look on his face as he spoke. “Kreacher, fetch me a hammer.”

Those words awakened the rawest, most feral side of Regulus’s mind. Survival instinct and impetuosity took over his entire being; long forgotten, hidden feelings that Regulus had shoved in the darkest pits of his subconscious for years. Every muscle in his body tensed up in alarm, sending painful shocks all over his body. Before he even realized what he was doing, Regulus began thrashing and trying to run away. Just like a caged animal, a beast in chains. Rabastan was quick to immobilize him, violently buckling his limbs behind his back. That didn’t stop Regulus from trying to rebel. He screamed and kicked, trying to twist himself free, despite knowing deep down that every attempt would be in vain. For the first time in his life, Regulus understood Sirius. He understood the desperate need to fight back. It wasn’t stubbornness, or cockiness, it wasn’t even the stupid and annoying need to piss everyone off. Regulus finally understood just how terrified and desperate Sirius must have felt all those years. The kind of fear that wipes away all reason, all common sense. Regulus’ ears were ringing. He could barely distinguish the curses and insults Sirius was throwing at their father, or his mother’s piercing cries. The buzzing in his brain and the suffocating pounding in his chest was all that Regulus could focus on.

“Sir-” Kreacher hesitated, his wrinkly features scrunching up in a pained grimace. His glassy eyes darted from Regulus to Orion, then back to Regulus again. “May I suggest another course of action-”

“I said get me the hammer!” Orion snapped. “Do your job, old relic. If you have this family’s best interest at heart you must obey me, or else-”

Kreacher tensed up immediately, lowering his gaze. “Of course, sir.” Then he left to get the hammer, muttering unspeakable protests to himself. He didn’t have the heart to spare Regulus another look.

Walburga jumped forward to stop Kreacher, but it was futile. 

Sirius went all out with the strength he had left to push himself off the floor to get to his brother, however Rodolphus completely pinned him down under his whole body weight. Sirius was screaming so loudly for his baby brother that his voice didn’t even sound like his own. 

Regulus tried to feed his survival instinct off of Sirius’ fierceness and devotion. He bit down on Rabastan’s injured hand, tearing off the stitches.  Regulus was delighted to taste blood; it fueled his despair even more. Rabastan screamed and clutched his hand, giving Regulus a precious chance at escaping. He pushed the Lestrange off of him, kicking him straight in the shinbone for good measure, and he ran. 

“Go, Reggie!” Sirius rallied, but Regulus decided to ignore him.

Regulus filtered off the comfort of his brother’s voice, the warmth of his unconditional affection. Because if Regulus had stopped even for a millisecond to think about Sirius, he would have crumbled. Regulus wasn’t as emotionally strong as his big brother, who seemed able to swallow every cruelty like it was nothing. Every little worry, every little painful doubt could leave scars on Regulus’ mind, and he couldn’t take the pain. If he had stopped to acknowledge his brother, Regulus knew he would have been forced to face the most difficult decision of his life: keep running without Sirius, or stay and be recaptured. And Regulus knew what he would have chosen, and he didn’t want to leave the rest of his life with such regret. So he ran, he ran faster than he ever had, as if the walls were closing in on him.

“Regulus! screamed both of his parents. Their shrieking voices overlapped in a cacophonic mess. Orion was more surprised and disappointed, while Walburga sounded much more desperate, wailing as if she didn’t want to see him go despite it being her better hope to see her child survive.

Regulus almost stumbled onto his own feet, but regained his balance immediately. He didn’t even know he could be that agile, that his reflexes could be so sharp when put under pressure. Regulus was almost at the front door when he collided with Kreacher coming back from the utility room, hammer menacingly in hand. 

And Regulus faltered. He hesitated because he couldn’t take such painful betrayal, from the one person aside from Sirius that seemed to have never wanted to see him hurt. Regulus and Kreacher looked each other in the eye for what couldn’t have been more than a second, but it stretched into an eternity. Regulus recognized pity, resignation and deep sorrow in the butler’s gaze, but it still wasn’t enough for Kreacher to drop the hammer and let him go. Regulus lingered in the moment long enough for Orion and Rabastan to catch up. Rabastan wrenched Regulus from the back of his collar. The Lestrange growled with newfound anger, dragging him back down the hall while his injured hand bled, leaving a crimson trail on the marble floor right beside Regulus’ feet.

Orion snatched the hammer from Kreacher’s hands. “Hold him down, Rabastan. Don’t let him slip away this time.” He commanded with the coldness of a ruthless dictator.

Rabastan snarled in agreement, kicking Regulus and locking him in an uncomfortable position on his knees. Regulus searched for his brother, mumbling a half broken apology. I’m sorry, Regulus thought. I’m sorry for not running fast enough, for not being strong enough. Regulus could barely see Sirius’ distraught expression through the tears blurring his sight.

“You’re left handed, just like your mother. Let’s start with that one, shall we?” Orion gestured with the hammer in his hand and Rabastan quickly positioned Regulus’ left hand on the floor, at his father’s mercy. 

“Please, no-” Regulus begged one last time, his voice trembling and cracking agonizingly.

“It’s for your own good.” Orion’s voice mellowed as he spoke. A false mockery of care, of gentleness, of fatherly love. Regulus could finally see past the appearances, past the lies. There was no room for love when his father was branding a hammer right above his helpless son’s hand. “Brace yourself-” 

One last warning.

Then Regulus’ mind went blank with pain. Incomprehensible, mind-shattering pain. Orion smashed Regulus’ hand with so much force that the head of the hammer and the broken bits and pieces of bones fused together in a ugly mass. Blood exploded in all directions. It splattered in Regulus’ face, burning his eyes. The dense fluid glued the butchered hand and the hammer on the floor and Orion had to physically wriggle his weapon free. Regulus didn’t even scream. The agony completely served the link between his brain and his body. He was sprawled on the floor, completely drained and powerless, drooling on the marble as he tried to make sense of the piercing pain which was turning his every thought into mush.

Regulus closed his eyes, trapping drying droplets of blood and tears in between his eyelids.

The chaos erupting around him was barely a whisper to him.

He passed out in a puddle of blood and crumbles of bones, choking on his own tense tongue, unable to move a muscle.

☆☆☆

The thing is, Rodolphus Lestrange himself was an older brother to a very lousy, sometimes even needy younger sibling. So, he really should have known to never underestimate a fellow older brother. Especially if said older brother was Sirius Black.

Because Sirius Black was one hell of an older brother. 

He didn’t have superpowers, no. Of course not. At least not the kind you’d find in comic books. He didn’t wear a colorful cape, he didn’t shoot lasers out of his pretty eyes. What Sirius had was an unmatchable will, a head as hot as the sun and so much love to give. The kind of love that made him desperate to throw himself between his brother and hell itself.

It took a moment of hesitation. Rodolphus had been too mesmerized by the grotesque scene unfolding before his eyes. A young man bleeding out on the floor, his hand reduced to a pulp of massacred skin, lacered muscles and chipped, white bones; that was definitely a sight for the eldest Lestrenge’s eyes. He loosened his grip on Sirius just enough to allow the model some room for movement. Rodolphus didn’t realize Sirius could be a threat, not in his conditions. A frail, skinny, bruised supermodel wouldn’t scare anyone to be frank. But the moment Sirius could strike, he did. And he struck hard.

With a precise, swift, angry roll of his hips, Sirius managed to position himself at the right angle that allowed him to throw a knee to Rodolphus straight in the bollocks. The kick itself wasn’t particularly strong, but the aim was just perfect. Rodolphus instinctively curled up in a ball, inhaling sharply. Sirius slipped out of his grasp, but in the struggle to get back on his feet Rodolphus managed to tear a chunk of hair straight from Sirius’s scalp. Sirius didn’t even flinch. He yanked at the rest himself, howling, leaving Rodolphus confused, and with a ball of hair in his hands. Sirius ignored the pain and he clawed at Rodolphus’ face with his perfectly curated manicure. 

“FUCK YOU!” Sirius yelled as he scratched Rodolphus, trying to dig his pointed nails into Lestrange's eyes. 

Sirius would have gladly poked those ugly, cold orbits out. He would have enjoyed mutilating each and every bastard that hurt his little brother. He would have loved to shower in their blood, and tear to pieces their flesh and bones just like they did to Regulus. But unfortunately Sirius didn’t have much time for slow and painful revenge. He had to save his brother first: that was his one and only priority.

As soon as Rodolphus surrendered, Sirius bolted towards his father, who still branded the bloodied hammer in his hand. Walburga and Kreacher didn’t make an effort either to stop, nor to help Sirius. They just stood by like passive bystanders. Sirius didn’t spare them a single thought, they weren’t worth it. A broken shell of a mother and an old man too soaked in honor to seek justice; Sirius had no time, no strength to waste on them. He charged against Orion in spite of the danger, barely avoiding a hit with the hammer. 

“Don’t you ever get tired of getting on my nerves?!” Orion yelled, trying to catch Sirius with his free hand. 

Orion wasn’t swinging the hammer against Sirius; on the contrary, he was trying to keep it far away from him. Sirius was quick and smart enough to understand and take advantage of his father’s only weakness when it came to his eldest, prettiest son: Orion didn’t want to cause any long lasting damages on Sirius, no matter what. Sirius, on the other hand, had no such moral restraints. 

“Let Regulus go!” Sirius roared, showing his teeth like a beast protecting its territory. Orion stared at his son up and down with disgust. Sirius couldn’t be bothered and, without missing a beat, he slipped under his father’s arm and stole the hammer from him. The handle was sticky and wet with blood, but Sirius gripped his firmly, pointing it at his father and Rabastan, who was still pinning Regulus down. “Did you hear me?! I said let my brother go!” Sirius barked, brandishing his new found weapon.

Orion gritted his teeth and he clicked his tongue, reluctantly gesturing at Rabastan to let Regulus go. Sirius didn’t dare lower his defenses, approaching his unconscious brother with caution, swinging the hammer ferociously in front of him to prevent anyone from attacking. It was hard to carry Regulus to safety with his own injuries and with one armed hand, but Sirius managed. He fixed his brother’s limp body on his shoulder and he began retreating towards the front door, his eyes still darting murderously between his parents.

“Sirius, for goodness’ sake, don’t be a fool!” Walburga shrieked, biting her fist restlessly. She was crying acid tears that made the bruise on her cheek glimmer a terrible shade of blue. “You can’t steal Regulus away! You’re nothing but an addict, and a queer! You can’t provide for him! How will you two survive without your family?!”

A strained, tense laugh escaped Sirius’ throat. He could feel his baby brother’s blood sliding in between his fingers. He could still hear his terrified whimpers echoing in the back of his mind. Regulus was passed out, innocently hanging on Sirius’ shoulder for dear life. Sirius wanted his mother to see, to care. But damn it, she was blind to their pain. She didn’t seem to have the heart to feel empathy for her children, she didn’t seem capable of loving right. And so, no matter how much Sirius tried to understand his mother, he just couldn’t. 

“I might be an addict, but I fucking love my brother! And I sure as hell will never hurt him the way you monsters do!” Sirius half cried, half laughed. He pointed the hammer at his mother with trembling hands. “Now stay back, all of you! I’m not afraid to wipe you people off the face of the fucking Earth if it comes to it!”

“You insolent- How dare you!” Walburga jumped forward, trying to snatch the hammer from his son’s hand, but Sirius moved quicker and he struck her in the wrist. “PUTAIN!” She screamed, clenching her arm that was already visibly swollen.

“I SAID STAY BACK!” Sirius’ swung the hammer in all directions. His eyes were bloodshot, so red they looked monstrous. 

Orion retrieved his wife, pushing her behind his back. He stared at Sirius from a safe distance, cold and still as a statue. His face was contorted in a disappointed grimace, but he didn’t seem all too willing to take the risk of going against his furious, armed son. “You can’t run away, Sirius. You know we’ll always find you.”

It wasn’t a threat, it was a promise.

“Yeah, well-” Sirius inhaled sharply. He didn’t allow himself to metabolize his father’s words, he didn’t allow himself a single moment of hesitation or fear. “I’ll kill you then! Try me!”  He fixed Regulus against his chest and quickly grabbed his motorbike keys from the key rack near the entrance door. “I’ll rip your eyes out if you ever get near Regulus again, father!”

“Ungrateful, spoiled brat! Vile-” Walburga began spatting the usual list of insults, but Sirius didn’t wait around to listen.

The entrance door was left ajar and Sirius simply kicked it open and ran to his bike, dragging Regulus along. He ran past the Lestrange’s Rolls Royce parked in the driveway and, in a fit of blinding rage, he smashed the windshield with the hammer. Twice. With a loud crash the glass cracked in thousands of tiny pieces, curving unnaturally all around the head of the hammer. It wasn’t much, but it felt good. 

The bike was parked not too far, and it was a little dusty after almost a week without being used. Sirius put his spare helmet on Regulus’ head, struggling to keep his unconscious brother sitting straight on the bike. He didn’t bother putting on his own helmet, though. He was in a rush to get Regulus as far away from that cursed out as soon as possible and he didn’t have time to waste on his own safety. 

“Hang on, Reggie, you’re gonna be alright…” Sirius hummed gently, wrapping his brother’s arms around his waist as tightly as he could, careful not to touch Regulus’ smashed hand.

Then he started the bike, its engine roaring into the night like the cry of a wounded animal. Sirius sped past the electronic gate before it even completely opened, masterfully sliding the bike in the narrow gap. He left dark tyre marks all along the pristine driveway as a last goodbye gift for his damned, cruel family.

☆☆☆

Orion Arcturus Black didn’t like losing. 

He was a business man through and through. A loss was always gonna be an inconvenience to him. No strings attached, no hard feelings, just the plain and simple logic of profit. That was how he managed to rise to the top of the fashion industry, and that was how he intended to keep his spot.

Regulus and Sirius didn’t have it in them to build a business. They didn’t have the mindset.

“Are we supposed to just… let them go?” Rodolphus asked Orion as Sirius slipped out of the entrance door and into the driveway. He sounded a little annoyed, unsatisfied with the outcome of the quarrel.

“As I said, they can’t run away.” Orion shrugged, hands tucked elegantly inside the pockets of his perfectly tailored pants. Somehow not a single drop of blood stained the expensive fabric. “Sirius can be a real pain. Let him cool off an hour or two, and then we’ll get him back.”

Orion was a little amused as he watched Sirius smashing the windshield of the Lestranges’ car. He always found his idiot son to be so hilarious. So pretty, so profitable and yet so damn stupid. Orion laughed inwardly. Sirius was little more than a temperamental purebred dog: beautiful to look at, expensive to maintain, and amusing and rather harmless when kicked back in his cage where he belonged.

“Fuck! My car-” Rodolphus yelled. He jumped forward, his fists clenched and ready to reset Sirius’ facial features, but Orion promptly stopped him. Glass could be mended, cars could be replaced. Sirius’s face, however, could not.

“I know, what a bastard that child is.” Orion clicked his tongue. “Don’t worry, Rodolphus. We’ll get your car fixed soon enough. And Sirius will pay for every single pound.”

That evening Orion lost two very precious assets. And he leaned against the doorframe as he watched them disappear into the distance. He could still hear the rumbling of the engine disturbing the quietness of the night as he started planning his next move.

☆☆☆

Sirius hated hospitals more than anything.

He hadn’t been in one in five years, and he had no intentions of ever returning. Sirius hated everything about hospitals: the sterile smell, the sterile walls, the sterile plastic needles, the sterile meals, the sterile look in the nurses eyes. In any other circumstance, Sirius would have rather died than be forced into a hospital waiting room ever again.

But it was Regulus who was hurt. It was Regulus who was slipping in and out of consciousness, with blood still gushing out of his mangled muscles and cracked bones. It was Regulus sobbing softly against his big brother’s back, trembling like a leaf. 

And if it was for Regulus’ wellbeing, none of that mattered. His baby brother needed him, and Sirius would have sooner swallowed the entire stash of sterile needles they had in stock at the hospital than risk losing him.

Sirius abandoned his bike in an unmarked parking spot and burst into the hospital building. By the time they arrived the adrenaline had burned off and it was much more difficult to carry Regulus around, considering how injured and frail Sirius himself was. 

“Please-” Sirius breathed out, almost giving in to the weight on his shoulders. He buckled his knees and gritted his teeth, trying to grab a hold of the first nurse he stumbled across. “Please, help my brother!” Sirius cried, basically shoving Regulus into an old nurse’s arms. 

She stayed calm and composed as she called for more assistance and a stretcher. Sirius could vaguely hear her asking him questions, trying to assert the situation, but the more she spoke the less Sirius understood. It wasn’t until Regulus was fully lifted off of him and secured onto the stretcher that Sirius realized that he had a massive headache. His brain was throbbing, hitting the walls of his skull with every painful pulse. One nurse guided Sirius to an empty chair right beside the triage station. Sirius’s legs gave out beneath him and he collapsed into the chair. All bones ached, and his hands were shaking. He wheezed, feeling his ribs squeeze against his poor lungs. It was as if his body was no longer his own. 

The old nurse was careful with Sirius, maneuvering his head so that she could take a look at the gash right above his brow. Sirius had completely forgotten about it, he fully believed the blood on his shirt was all Regulus and not his own. But when the nurse applied some pressure with a sterile gauze, Sirius winced at how much it ached and burned.

“-ur name?” Sirius distantly heard the nurse ask.

“What?” He blinked twice, trying to focus.

“I asked for your name.” The nurse repeated, sounding a little annoyed despite the fact that she clearly made an effort to hide it. Sirius realized she might have asked the same question a couple of times already, and he felt a little bad.

“Sorry… My name's Sirius Black.” He exhaled, spitting each syllable as if they tasted foul in his mouth. As if speaking his name out loud was a shame akin to casting a curse.

“Wow, a celebrity.” The nurse gave him an amused look. Sirius couldn’t really hold her gaze, but he still attempted a charming smile despite the pain. “You said the boy you arrived with is your brother, is that correct?” She asked.

“Yes, my brother-” Sirius choked, whimpering miserably as he noticed that he lost sight of him. His chest caved in. He almost jumped off the chair, his eyes dating across the bright white hallway like a cornered animal’s, searching, searching. “Regulus… Regulus-”

“Don’t worry, he’s being taken good care of. He’s going to be fine.” The nurse gently cupped his face still, and she kept disinfecting his wound. “Ok dear, can you tell me what happened to you two?”

Sirius instinctively tensed up at the question. He wanted to spit his damned father's name in the poor nurse’s face, he desperately wanted everyone to know the kind of monster he was. He wanted to cry and scream how much he had to suffer through all his life because of his parents, how much in pain he was, and how scared and helpless he was. But the words dispersed at the edge of his throat. For some godforsaken reason, Sirius couldn’t speak a single one of his angry, broken thoughts. Despite how defiant and confident he had been in himself just fifteen minutes before, when he threatened his parents with a fucking hammer, Sirius still couldn’t find the courage to speak the horrors of his house outloud. And so Sirius just stared at the nurse ahead of him, shivering, torturing his bottom lip until it bled.

“What happened?” The nurse pressed. She squinted her eyes a little and she looked more and more concerned by the second.

Sirius felt seen. Too seen.

“We were… uhm…” Sirius faltered, trying to unclog the cork blocking his throat. He could see the shadow of his father lingering at every corner, hiding behind wheelchairs, nurses and white walls. He could see his mother's disappointed face as she scolded him from right behind the angle, her face blurred by the blinding lights in the ceiling. “We were in an accident. My fault. I lost control of my bike and we… y’know.” He lied, biting his tongue.

“Mh.” The nurse hummed, but she didn’t look convinced at all. She glanced over at her colleague, who was filling the triage documents, and they exchanged a suspicious look. Sirius feared they might press him further, but they dropped it for the moment, and for that he was grateful. “Your brother was rushed to the operation room.” She explained, and Sirius couldn’t help but flinch at the mere thought of Regulus going under the knife. He swallowed, forcing himself to believe it was for the best. “You’ll stay in the triage area for a bit until a doctor can take a good look at you, but I don’t think you’ll need stitches for this cut. Your face will be as pretty as ever. Lucky you.” She smiled softly, and then she left to mend to other patients.

Sirius let the words sink in. He brought his knees up to his chest, digging his heels into the edge of the chair and curling up on himself. He instinctively brought the back of his hand to his brow, lightly pressing on the cut. When he retrieved his hand he noticed that there wasn’t even a bit of blood on it. The wound didn’t even hurt that much anymore. It was healing itself on its own. Regulus was suffering in the operating room, bleeding until his face turned as white as a sheet, and in the meantime his big brother was dealing with nothing more than a scratch. Regulus was probably going to lose his hand, while Sirius was going to be just as pretty as ever.

“Lucky me, yeah.” Sirius sobbed. He rested his forehead on his knees, rocking himself back and forth.

And he finally allowed himself to cry.