Chapter Text
It was Autumn when Remus first met Sirius- after months of James promising they’d convene, Remus was almost convinced James had imagined him, like the time he’d had a girlfriend in year seven who ‘went to another school’.
They were sat in their local beer garden, air heavy with the smell of beer and sweaty workmen. James had gone up to get his round, leaving Remus with peter- a dull conversationalist and embarrassingly eager boy who Remus had grown to dislike quite quickly after meeting him. Trouble was James tended to adopt people, lost puppies of sorts, and peter had latched onto that, sinking his nails into any attention he could gather. He’d picked up peter two weeks before, someone on his course, and somehow, he was still hanging around; a bad smell. James’ absence had left behind an awkward silence, Peter avoiding Remus’ eyes doggedly, cheeks a flushed pink.
“Thanks, by the way- for the other night.” Peter said, hesitantly. Remus grimaced, of course he’d be the type. He swallowed this bitterness and cleared his throat, grinning,
“It’s nothing, forget it mate. How’s the job hunt going?” He said, easily switching conversation- Peter seemed relieved too, pink cheeks dulling slightly,
“Fuck all out there, obviously dad’s is still on the table but I just wanted to go solo for a bit, you know? I’ll probably end up joining him eventually, when the money dries up though,” he grimaced. Peter’s wealthy family was always a source of distaste for the boy- in his eyes it was a cop out to accept what you were given. He was a pathetic mess of over-available wealth and an upbringing of over-encouragement, resulting in a sticky pile of talentless indecision. His dad was a financial advisor to some of the wealthiest clients in London, earning more than most of them just through commission, but Peter wanted to ‘carve his own path’. Remus was decidedly bitter, but carefully listened to peter explaining again, why he’d been rejected from yet another job, swilling down the equally bitter end of his pint.
He didn’t usually sleep with his friends, but Peter had been an exception, Remus was so sure he’d never have to see the boy again, he’d relented when Peter started getting handsy in the bar. Along with the usual ‘I don’t usually do stuff like this, I just want to see what it’s like’ Peter had revealed he was aware of Remus’ own occupation.
---
“I’ve just heard a few things, that’s all. Maybe I’m wrong,” He had said, words slurring a bit into one another. Remus was drunk himself, and besides, he’d always known how to play a part. He flicked his eyes up over Peters lips, and the boy stared back, mouth slightly open. Remus could see his limited braincells struggling to form the right words, so decided to help him out. He leaned into him, lips ghosting his ear
“What kind of things?” He murmured, and pulled back, smiling coyly at Peter’s newly flushed cheeks. The boy swallowed and his tongue flicked across his lips. Remus knew what things, but he wondered slyly if peter would say it outright. He liked testing people sometimes, he liked to be surprised, plus he was drunk- he could afford to be mean.
Peter swallowed again, nervously,
“I know what you do.” He said outright. Remus’ smile widened, if he was honest he was glad- he found the most awkward part of his job was telling the customers he wasn’t just there for the fun. “I’ve never- you know- I’m not into guys like that, I’m just-“ Peter reached up suddenly and brushed a piece of Remus’ hair behind his ear, fingers lingering, unsure.
“just curious,” he finished, grimacing. Remus was surprised at the gentle gesture, and it took him off guard for a second, before he regained his easy smile.
“Want me to show you?” he murmured, barely loud enough to hear over the music. James had ditched them an hour before, so it was just them at the bar. Remus was secretly glad- James didn’t approve of Remus’ ‘career choices’ and certainly wouldn’t have let Peter be led into them.
The boy in question was now staring at Remus with open wonder, eyes glazed over slightly. He nodded slowly,
“Where?” he asked dumbly.
Remus grabbed his hand and led him past the bar and into the toilets. Not the most endearing of locations, but needs must. There was space enough for peter to stand, and it was quieter in here too.
“You don’t have to be in it, just get a few clips, and a picture at the end,” Remus murmured, sinking onto his knees and handing peter his phone. Peter stared dumbly at it, then shook his head clear, gulping. Now for the easy part. Remus slowly unbuttoned peter’s jeans and felt around, fingers working without thought. Peter moaned as Remus cupped his hand around his crotch, but Remus had tuned it all out. In his head he listed the English monarchs, mouth working on autopilot. Peter made it to King Charles the second before coming undone, one hand clutching at the back of Remus’ head, holding him still. Remus slowly pulled off, glanced up through his eyelashes, hands behind his back. He could feel a drip making its way steadily down his chin before swallowing harshly. He was the picture of submission, making steady and direct eye contact with the phone in peter’s trembling hand.
---
“Anyways, bastards, the lot of them. What about you? You on indeed or anything?” Peter asked, bringing Remus out of his thoughts. Remus almost laughed out loud at this question. Peter was surely fully aware of Remus’ manner of income; in fact he himself had helped contribute to it just a week ago. He smiled easily,
“No Pete, I’m not on indeed,” he leaned in, teasing- he enjoyed this dynamic, he loved how uncomfortable people were with his income,
“If I’m honest I find grindr’s much more lucrative for my line of work,” he winked, enjoying Peters dumbfounded look, watching him scramble to find the words.
“Uh, yeah, right, sorry. So it does pay well then?” Peter asked, falteringly.
Remus wanted to roll his eyes, annoyance shooting through him, the one thing he hated most of all was the pity. He could read the pity dripping through his every word. Remus bit his cheek, levelling his voice.
“Pete,” he said, flicking his eyes over to the boy, who was studying him curiously, “I didn’t do it for fun. ”
He watched as Pete furrowed his brows, watched his brain scurry to process whether to receive this as an insult, but before he could retort a dark pint was slapped down in front of him, James’ hand resting on his back. Remus snapped out of it, thanking his friend.
“Pete they only had apple, they’ve run out of Kopparberg,” James said, cutting through any tension and shoving himself next to Remus, completely oblivious as usual -of course he drinks Kopparberg- Remus thought.
Peter blinked and took the pint steadily. Remus watched him, smiling at his obvious discomfort, before turning to James and holding up his glass.
“Split the G?” He offered, and James grinned-
“loser has to sink their pint” James counter-offered, and Remus nodded, both boys taking a long gulp of Guinness.
James won, and Remus sighed as he started to chant “we…. Like to drink with Remus”.
Remus shut his eyes and tilted back the glass; after years of drinking with James and his rugby lot, he had learned how to chug a pint out of necessity, but he still would have preferred to nurse it slowly. He could feel some spilling on his chin as he finished it and triumphantly slammed the glass down on the table, squeezing his eyes shut as he swallowed. James cheered and slapped him on the back- peter watched on smiling. When Remus opened his eyes, he noticed someone watching from the corner of the beer garden. Being watched was nothing new- people recognised him sometimes and didn’t know how to bring it up. Usually married, always ashamed. Then he noticed peters gaze flicking to the foam dripping down his chin, and hurriedly he wiped it off, grimacing. This was the problem with mixing business with friends- as peter’s eyes darted away, he could see a flush creeping up his neck, and he silently cursed James for his ‘welcome all’ attitude.
As if on cue, James stood up, eyes alight and started making his way across the beer garden. “Sirius!” he yelled, and Remus saw it was the man who had been watching. Remus almost did a double take. James had failed to mention his new friend was potentially inhuman. Potentially god related, potentially part Veela. Remus could feel his mouth fall slightly apart, before blinking away any surprise and properly drying his mouth. He watched James wave him over and he stood up, pulling himself together and affecting an easy stride across to them.
“Remus! This is Sirius, Sirius, this is Remus,” He gestured excitedly between them and Remus smiled at his unending joy. Remus held out a hand for Sirius, meeting his eye steadily. He wondered what Sirius knew of him, which parts Sirius had seen. As Sirius shook it he smiled easily- god he was handsome-
“So he’s real?” Remus said, grinning.
“I’d better be.” Sirius quipped, “If I’m not this life was a lot of fucking effort.” His voice was well bred, each of the vowels lingering steadily, his words taking up the space they required with no rush of an apology.
“Sirius come sit,” James ushered him away from his friends over to peter, who looked decidedly put out at having to watch the table.
“alright?” he said dully. Sirius slapped him on the back playfully
“Petey, how you doing? Good to see you man,” He replied.
“How come you’ve met? Have you lot been meeting up without me?” Remus frowned, confused. Sirius smiled his easy smile once again,
“nah, it’s you whose been scamping Loverboy- pub last week, James said you had a date?” he teased. Remus blushed; never one to be pedantic. I guess some peoples’ idea of a date would be the backseat of a Sainsbury’s lorry, and who was he to judge them for that?
“oh yeah. Right. My bad then,” he held his hands up in mock protest. Sirius waved him off,
“Don’t be silly, needs must,” he winked, eyes steady on Remus. For a split-second Remus panicked. He knows. He’s seen the video. His eyes were so blue up close, Remus felt like he could see right through them into the centre of the brain.
“How was she?” Sirius finished, off-handedly, dragging Remus from his thoughts. Remus stilled, and he almost laughed. Perhaps he didn’t know. Remus had never really had to ‘come out’ as such before. Usually it just slipped into conversation, secretly he thought James must tell his friends beforehand. Most of them were tough rugby guys, not the most accepting of sorts (although also ironically, never the straightest). He was protective over Remus in that way. Remus didn’t care that he was gay. He’d known it since he was 10, he’d just never felt the need to project it. Most of their friends at school had figured it out by sixth form, but Remus was never one to confirm or deny. Remus, quite simply, couldn’t be bothered to discover that James’ friend was a raging homophobe. He could do that in his own time. He could feel James now, bristling and ready to change the conversation. Remus smirked slowly, holding Sirius’ eye.
“Not marriage material,” he cautioned. Sirius let out a big laugh, and the tension was broken.
“dirty dog Remus,” He laughed, then dove into an account of a girl both he and James’ had dated separately in the past- who, by the sounds of it, was not particularly ‘marriage material’ either. He smiled to himself, feeling a sense of solidarity towards the girl. He wasn’t particularly nubile either.
---
Towards the end of the night, he caught peter and Sirius talking quietly together, peter pointing out Remus. Remus’ stomach sank slightly, and he struggled not to stare. If there was one thing he hated, it was a recommendation. Like a google review for the back of his throat. 4 stars, wouldn’t look me in the eye. 3 stars wasn’t all there. 1 star couldn’t come because of the guilt I felt for my wife and children- wouldn’t wipe my eyes when I cried. He’d had all sorts, usually mutual friends encountering him, much like peter, drunk and alone. Thoughts spiral, pretences slip, Remus didn’t mind too much what they did or how they liked it as long as they got a decent angle. But with a recommendation comes an expectation, and this was the problem. Remus, when he wasn’t on his knees, liked to be in control. He liked to vet who could and couldn’t take that control from him. He wasn’t fussy, per se, but he liked to know he could reject them, with dignity, if he wanted. If Sirius knew what had happened to peter, he would expect an easy yes.
Remus busied himself, by rolling a cigarette as Sirius made his way over. He noticed the way Sirius’ eyes lingered on his fingers, watching him roll. Was he judging his dexterity? Deciding on his request? Remus felt hot under Sirius’ gaze, unable to drag his eyes away from the man. Suddenly, somewhere between rolling the filter, and sprinkling the tobacco, Remus decided that shagging Sirius black would not be the worst idea in the world. In fact, he might actually quite enjoy it. Mind made up, he decided to have some fun.
As Sirius sat down across from him, Remus made eye contact and very deliberately licked his way slowly across the sticky side of the paper, watching with delight as Sirius froze momentarily, eyes fixed on the movement. A deer caught in the headlights. Sirius cleared his throat.
“Uh. Remus. Pete said you paint?”
Remus glanced over at Pete, who was watching them with interest. So that’s how Sirius wanted to play it. Well Remus could play innocent too. He placed the cigarette between his teeth, fumbling for a lighter.
“Oh right, yeah. I dabble. Didn’t know peter knew about that.” He said flatly, cautioning a look up at Sirius’s eyes. Up close they took on such a beautiful tone of blue that Remus struggled to look away. He busied himself by lighting the cigarette, taking a long drag and feeling the nicotine work its way through his lungs.
“Can I see some of your stuff?” Sirius asked, his eyes flicking between the cigarette between Remus’ lips and his eyes.
Remus laughed, inhaling and ashing into a nearby pint glass. He pulled up his phone and flicked through his albums to find the one he was looking for. He held it out for Sirius to go through. He wasn’t worried about Sirius seeing anything ‘untoward’; he had a separate phone for business, although he did entertain the idea that Sirius might be looking for it.
Sirius seemed entranced by the work, and Remus carried on smoking, unbothered. He knew his work was good, he didn’t need a random to verify that, but it was nice every now and then, to get the validation. A lot of his work were surrealist, nude pieces. Self-portraits if you looked closely. Remus watched as Sirius did just that, drinking in each piece as he swiped.
“Fucking hell Remus, I bet these are beautiful in person,” Sirius said earnestly, Remus just watched him. He really did have a beautiful face; so expressive and open. Remus smiled at the unusual approach, but leaned into the interaction,
“you can come see them in person. If you want,” He said, quietly, but Sirius didn’t seem to hear. When Sirius handed the phone back to him, he met Remus’ eyes, a genuine look of awe on his face.
“Remus mate, you should sell these, you’d make thousands,” Sirius pressed. Remus bristled.
“To rot in some poncy pedo’s private wank bank?”
Sirius let out another laugh, and shook his head,
“he’d have you there in pride of place. Doubt you’d even get dusty”
“ah lucky me. Reverse Dorian Gray.” Remus deadpanned, then split into a smirk, both boys laughing. Remus grinned, sucking in the last curls of smoke from the fag.
“don’t be so cynical. You’ll be like a genie- he’ll take you out every few weeks for a rub” Sirius said placatingly.
Remus thought for a second, eyes steady on Sirius,
“A posh boy cumming over my nudes? How novel.”
He let the words hang there, watching Sirius’ reaction. Sirius only faltered for a second, impressively, dropping Remus’ gaze and swallowing faintly. Remus stood up to leave, dropping the cigarette butt in the same pint glass as before. Sirius tilted his head,
“You know that’s Pete’s pint, don’t you?” he said, raising an eyebrow.
Remus grinned and put a finger to his lips, grabbing his bag and leaving without saying goodbye. He’d text James afterwards, although the boy wouldn’t expect anything different. Remus was a fan of slipping off into the night and James was used to his frequent boredom and subsequent impulsive departures and decisions. James had his location on his phone if ever he was worried.