[Five Times Fic, R to NC-17]
Title Five Times Sirius Walked in On James and Lily (And One Time it Was Remus)
Rating Somewhere between R and NC-17, I think.
Summary I think you guys can figure it out :D
One
"Do do do, dodododo," Sirius hummed, absently, under his breath. He was picking his teeth with a fork he'd nicked from dinner and trying to decide if he wanted to cancel on the bird he was supposed to go out with tonight. On the one hand, Davies from Ravenclaw had told him that she'd probably put out, and it had been awhile. On the other hand, Remus wanted to go over the NEWT Arithmancy work for the thousandth bloody time, and that somehow sounded more fun than sitting in Puddifoot's, again, and playing the same game he always played.
Sirius stopped at the dormitory door and sighed, feeling world-weary. "Oh, but for June," he cried, flinging the door open, "when new experience--oh motherfucking WHAT--"
James yelped and spread his hands, and Evans colored like she'd been slapped. They were leaning against the bedpost--James had Evans balanced on his leg, with her skirt up, and they were--oh, god--they were porking.
"Padfoot," James said, and winced. "Uh, would you possibly believe this isn't what it looks like?"
"No," Sirius said, badly shaken. He wanted to punch James, and he kind of wanted to punch Evans, and he wanted to be far away as fast as possible. He twitched, trying to overcome his battling impulses. "That would be--no. Definitely no. I'll just--uh--"
"No," Evans said, swiftly, "I'll go." She disengaged herself from James; Sirius looked away, but nothing could protect him from the horrifying sound of it. Oh sweet Merlin, he thought, I'm going to have to kill myself after I've finished killing him. Evans flipped her skirt back down with practiced ease, smoothed her shirt, and, except for the color of her face, looked completely composed. She kissed James soundly, and stepped away after a long moment; he looked after her, dazed.
She stopped by Sirius on her way out the door. "I trust," she said, raising her left eyebrow, "that this isn't going to...get out?" The effect was rather dampened by the beet-red shade of her cheeks, but Sirius got her point.
"Evans," Sirius said, with complete seriousness, "you can Oblivate me, I won't mind."
She laughed, a soft sound that seemed out of place with the sharp, cold picture he'd always painted of her. "I don't think that'll be necessary," she said, "but thanks," and she slipped past him out the door.
"I think it's necessary," Sirius called after her, desperately. "I'm begging you, Evans--"
"Bugger off, Black," came floating up the stairs in her high, amused voice.
Sirius slumped to the floor in defeat. "I hate you," he said, to the world at large.
"Sorry," James replied, sounding unrepentant. "Probably should have warned you."
Sirius lifted his head and glared. "D'you think?" he asked acridly. "Jesus, Prongs, I didn't even know you were fucking her."
James smiled, a slow, sappy thing that reached his eyes before his dimple started showing. "We've been seeing each other," he admitted, in a voice that made Sirius want to sick up in his bed, "we're keeping it a bit quiet for now."
Sirius pushed himself up and looked at his friend--took in the hickeys on his neck, the scrapes running up his forearm, and thought I should have noticed. Instead he snapped "Keep it behind the curtains next time, Casanova," and stormed out of the room.
--
Two
"He's been at it for ages now," Peter said, awed, from across the room. Sirius snorted and rolled his eyes, and Remus didn't even look up from the book he was reading. "Ages," Peter breathed, sounding impressed, and Sirius threw a shoe at his head.
Remus did look up, then. "Play nice," he said, absently, raised a fist in a manner Sirius supposed he considered threatening, and turned the page. "It has been a long time, though," he commented, glancing at the clock. "I didn't know it was so late. That's bad form."
"But the stamina--" Peter started. Remus threw the shoe at his head this time, and Sirius spared a moment from his irritation to be impressed by the accuracy.
"Ow," snapped Peter.
"Ohhh," came James' plaintive voice. They all winced.
The thing was, they had a policy, the Marauders did, about wanking: Silencing Charms, necessary. Reasonable time limit, required. Remus was always good about it, and Peter sometimes forgot the Silencing Charm but he was always quick, and Sirius himself had gotten bored of making disgusting noises to terrify them all in third year, and since had gone about his business discreetly enough.
It was just James, stupid, exhibitionist James, who serviced himself at full volume, the very perverse fly in their collective ointment. And he never kept it under an hour--which was just indecent, no one needs to play with himself for that long--and he never, never apologized later.
"Oh yeah, Evans, just like that," he cried, from behind the curtains. Sirius tensed, ready to spring into a full blown rage, but it was Remus who put his book down and made a face.
"Time to do something," he sighed. "This has gotten disgusting. Again. Wands?"
"Um," Peter said, wringing his hands. "I feel bad, he sounds like he's really--"
"Wand, Wormtail!" Sirius and Remus snapped, together. Peter jumped, and handed his wand to Remus instantly.
"Thank you," Remus said. "Padfoot?"
"Gladly," Sirius said, holding his out at once.
This, of course, was the other Marauder wanking policy--if you violate the rules, you damn well deserve to be caught at it. As Peter had pointed out, they'd all seen each other's junk often enough not to worry about anything weird, and besides it was really only ever James they had to do it to.
Sirius kind of thought he got off on it. Sick bastard.
"Alright," Remus said. He mumbled a few words in Latin and the wands spun around twice, and flew back to their owners with little flags hanging from them.
Peter and Remus both had red; Sirius's was green. "Bugger," he muttered. "Next time we're flipping a fucking coin."
Remus shrugged. "Fair enough," he said, "I'm off to dinner," and he left before Sirius could stop him, Peter hot on his heels.
Traitors, Sirius thought. Then he steeled himself, practiced the turn and swish of the Bat-Bogey Hex once for good measure, and flung back James' curtains.
Prongs was tied to the bed. Tied to the bed. With Evans naked across him in reverse cowgirl.
"Goddamn it," said Sirius, "this shit is going to have to stop."
"Padfoot," James groaned, "please don't--"
"Hey," Evans snapped, "what the hell are you playing at? You had to know I was in here--"
"No, because you're the fucking silent lover--"
"--bet you get off on this, seeing us together--"
"Oh don't flatter yourself, I thought he was beating one off--"
"Because he normally yells my name when he's wanking, does he--"
"Why yes, Evans, actually he fucking does--"
"Padfoot!" James snapped, coloring. "That's enough, sweet Merlin that is enough."
Sirius gave them both the hairiest eyeball he could manage. "Just tell Remus and Peter, alright?" he said, finally. "I'm not being your--cover, or whatever."
James nodded at him; Evans was carefully trying to arrange herself into a covered position. Sirius gave her a withering look, but didn't comment.
He legged it out of the door, sticking his head back through to yell "And put up sodding Silencing Charms next time, you sick fuck!"
Sirius made it all the way down the stairs, out of the common room, and down the corridor before it hit him. Then he leaned against the wall and laughed, long and low, choking with it, until Remus found him and dragged him to dinner.
Three
It was nice, the flat.
It got a little lonely, sometimes, at first--when Remus was at work and he, Sirius, had nothing to do--but by and large, he liked the freedom of it. He'd keyed the Floo open for James and Peter and, grudgingly, Evans, and encouraged them to visit. Between that and his ability to roll up a spliff and smoke it in his bedroom whenever he liked, Sirius felt he could get used to post-Hogwarts life.
He had just such a spliff in his hand one day, smoked nearly down to the roach, when he heard a noise coming from the kitchen. Frowning, he snuffed the roach and got up, his wand in one hand, the Beater's bat he kept for emergencies in the other. He crept out the door of his bedroom and stepped silently towards his kitchen, pressing his back against the wall.
There was definitely someone in there. Drawing on all his Order skills, Sirius spun into the kitchen, the bat raised, his wand poised, his mouth open around a curse--
"Oh for Merlin's sake, you two," he spat, "you have your own bloody kitchen table."
James, pants around his ankles, made a gagging sound and Evans seemed to be asphyxiating with silent laughter.
"Padfoot--" James started.
"OUT," Sirius roared, "Get OUT," and James carried Lily deftly to the fire, threw in some powder, and stepped in.
"You didn't have to be such a tosser about it," James called, teasingly, from the other end. Sirius shut off the connection, seething, and set about warding his place so only Remus could enter.
Four
"Oh." Lily cried, with her back flush against the refrigerator, ice cold in contrast to the wet heat below her, "oh, god, yes, James, yes--"
James stood in front of her, holding her up, pounding up into her like his life depended on it. "Yes," he hissed, into her ear, "that's my girl, tell me what you like--"
"James," Lily gasped, "harder, I want you to--"
"Nice form," a third voice interrupted. Lily couldn't help herself--she screamed, a little. It was startling! James turned around in one fluid movement, still holding her in place--Lily would take a moment, later, to think about how incredibly sexy that was. For now, she was just angry.
"Padfoot," James growled.
"Prongs!" Sirius said, brightly. "Not so much fun when someone's in your kitchen uninvited, is it?" He smiled dangerously and took a low bow; before he stood up he made a soft tutting noise. "Evans," he said, taking a wise step out of reach, "you've shaved," and then with a tip of his hat he was back through the Floo fire.
"I'll kill him," James grunted. Lily thought about agreeing with him for a moment, and then the full impact of the moment hit her and she leaned into his chest and gave in to hysterics. After a moment, he joined her, and they sank to the floor, howling with it, still attached at the hip and lower.
(Thing was, it didn't take them that long to stop laughing. And they were already on the floor--it was easy, then, to finish what they'd started.)
Five
Harry wailed, and and wailed, and wailed. Sirius looked at him in despair and wished desperately that Remus, who always knew what to do in these moments, wasn't in some remote location. Again. There was nothing for it, though, he couldn't even send the bastard an Owl, because who knew where he was. Or what he was doing, Sirius thought, and hated himself.
As if sensing this, Harry redoubled his efforts. He had the Potter lungs, that was for sure, but Sirius was going to tear all his hair out if the little twit didn't shut up. He meant it with love, Harry was their little twit, but there was only so much one man could take. He scowled at Harry.
Harry called his scowl and raised him what smelled like a shit. Sirius despaired of his life.
It's not, he told himself, a little frantically, that Remus knows what to do in these situations. It's just that he's--the logic--he spends more time with the options. So I will just go through the options. Yes.
Twenty minutes later, he'd changed the sprong, fed the sprog, burped the sprong and rocked the sprog. The little bastard was still howling, and Sirius didn't want to, but he put the kid in his crib and walked over to the living room door.
It was the best Lily and James could do, these days, to get time to themselves--they stayed in the house and Sirius came over, watched the kid with a Silencing Charm up in the left half of the house while they busied themselves in the garden or the bedroom. James, especially, wanted out--Sirius could see it in his eyes, in the tremor that occasionally shot through his fingers--but the Fidelus Charm was the only way to protect his family.
Fuck, Sirius thought, his hand hovering over the doorknob, and then Harry let out another high pitched howl and his decision was made for him. Cursing internally, he opened the door, stepping through into blissful silence.
James and Lily were in the bedroom, and Sirius had the door half-opened when he heard the strangled sob and pulled back. He turned, carefully, and peered through at them.
James was on top, missionary style--it was the most traditional position he'd ever seen them in--and Lily was crying.
"I'm scared," she said, as James moved above her, touching her face, her hands. "I--what if we never leave, what if--"
"Shhh," James said. Sirius shuddered. He sounded like an adult. "Shh, I know. I know. It'll be ok."
There was this cavity in Sirius' chest he hadn't known about--it cracked and spilled emptiness out into him, an echoing, raw feeling. He felt like the dog scrabbling at the kitchen door, and he put his tail between his legs and slunk back into Harry's half of the house.
"Look," he said, picking up the wailing infant. He kept squalling, and Sirius lifted him, held him at eye level, and said "Look," with such ferocity that Harry stopped crying.
"I know," Sirius said. Harry looked at him with wide, solemn eyes. "I know this is a fucking disaster, kid. Believe me. There's nothing I'd like more than to give up and scream along with you." His voice cracked momentarily and Harry cocked his head, curious. Sirius swallowed hard and continued. "But we're men," he said, "you and me, and your parents are pretty great people, and so we've got to suck it up. Ok, sprong? Suck it up, let them have their night."
Harry looked him over contemplatively, and stuck his thumb in his mouth. Sirius placed him back in the crib and he was asleep almost instantly; limp with relief, Sirius sank to the ground, stared at his hands, and wondered, not for the first time, where the fuck Remus was.
(And One Time Remus...)
It's not even sunrise, and Remus stares into his morning cuppa and sighs. He hates this, this sleepless wandering he's gotten accustomed to, but he doesn't remember how to get to sleep when it's dark out, and he doesn't know what to do with himself during the day. So he's got this pattern, up until the sun rises, out until the sun sets, that's been working pretty well for him.
Well, actually, it's been terrible, but it's better than the alternative.
Sirius has been gone--again, Sirius has been gone again--for three months. Somewhere deep in his soul, Remus knows he needs to pull himself out of this, needs to climb up out of this hole and re-rebuild his life. It's just that it sounds so tiring, and Remus is so tired.
He sighs again, long and low, and takes the coffee cup up to his room. In the back of the closet there is a box of photographs, once carefully organized, now in the telltale disarray of frequent use.This is another part of his routine, this digging into his past, and he's rooting around for that shot of Sirius in only his boxers and a top-hat when he unearths a photo with Lily's writing on the back. He traces the loops of her handwriting with a pang.
"Summer," it says, "1979." Remus smiles, remembering the shot--it had been a candid, the two of them flirting on the couch in Sirius's flat. A sad little smile worms its way onto his face. He flips the photo over and gasps.
James and Lily are doing it. As he looks at them, they notice him. James, 20 and cock-sure and so alive, laughs and flips him the bird; Lily rolls her eyes and blows him a gently mocking kiss.
He looks down at them, thinks about crying, and bursts into laughter instead. It is the first time he has laughed since Sirius died, and all of it--the loss, the raw, hollow place in his chest--it all comes pouring out, brimming over his mouth and out into the room, filling him even as it escapes him.
"Jesus," Remus gasps, wiping his eyes, "like fucking bunnies, oh my god," and he sets himself off again. He curls sideways on his bed and laughs, like sobbing, until he is quiet, until he can finally, finally fall asleep.
Rating Somewhere between R and NC-17, I think.
Summary I think you guys can figure it out :D
One
"Do do do, dodododo," Sirius hummed, absently, under his breath. He was picking his teeth with a fork he'd nicked from dinner and trying to decide if he wanted to cancel on the bird he was supposed to go out with tonight. On the one hand, Davies from Ravenclaw had told him that she'd probably put out, and it had been awhile. On the other hand, Remus wanted to go over the NEWT Arithmancy work for the thousandth bloody time, and that somehow sounded more fun than sitting in Puddifoot's, again, and playing the same game he always played.
Sirius stopped at the dormitory door and sighed, feeling world-weary. "Oh, but for June," he cried, flinging the door open, "when new experience--oh motherfucking WHAT--"
James yelped and spread his hands, and Evans colored like she'd been slapped. They were leaning against the bedpost--James had Evans balanced on his leg, with her skirt up, and they were--oh, god--they were porking.
"Padfoot," James said, and winced. "Uh, would you possibly believe this isn't what it looks like?"
"No," Sirius said, badly shaken. He wanted to punch James, and he kind of wanted to punch Evans, and he wanted to be far away as fast as possible. He twitched, trying to overcome his battling impulses. "That would be--no. Definitely no. I'll just--uh--"
"No," Evans said, swiftly, "I'll go." She disengaged herself from James; Sirius looked away, but nothing could protect him from the horrifying sound of it. Oh sweet Merlin, he thought, I'm going to have to kill myself after I've finished killing him. Evans flipped her skirt back down with practiced ease, smoothed her shirt, and, except for the color of her face, looked completely composed. She kissed James soundly, and stepped away after a long moment; he looked after her, dazed.
She stopped by Sirius on her way out the door. "I trust," she said, raising her left eyebrow, "that this isn't going to...get out?" The effect was rather dampened by the beet-red shade of her cheeks, but Sirius got her point.
"Evans," Sirius said, with complete seriousness, "you can Oblivate me, I won't mind."
She laughed, a soft sound that seemed out of place with the sharp, cold picture he'd always painted of her. "I don't think that'll be necessary," she said, "but thanks," and she slipped past him out the door.
"I think it's necessary," Sirius called after her, desperately. "I'm begging you, Evans--"
"Bugger off, Black," came floating up the stairs in her high, amused voice.
Sirius slumped to the floor in defeat. "I hate you," he said, to the world at large.
"Sorry," James replied, sounding unrepentant. "Probably should have warned you."
Sirius lifted his head and glared. "D'you think?" he asked acridly. "Jesus, Prongs, I didn't even know you were fucking her."
James smiled, a slow, sappy thing that reached his eyes before his dimple started showing. "We've been seeing each other," he admitted, in a voice that made Sirius want to sick up in his bed, "we're keeping it a bit quiet for now."
Sirius pushed himself up and looked at his friend--took in the hickeys on his neck, the scrapes running up his forearm, and thought I should have noticed. Instead he snapped "Keep it behind the curtains next time, Casanova," and stormed out of the room.
--
Two
"He's been at it for ages now," Peter said, awed, from across the room. Sirius snorted and rolled his eyes, and Remus didn't even look up from the book he was reading. "Ages," Peter breathed, sounding impressed, and Sirius threw a shoe at his head.
Remus did look up, then. "Play nice," he said, absently, raised a fist in a manner Sirius supposed he considered threatening, and turned the page. "It has been a long time, though," he commented, glancing at the clock. "I didn't know it was so late. That's bad form."
"But the stamina--" Peter started. Remus threw the shoe at his head this time, and Sirius spared a moment from his irritation to be impressed by the accuracy.
"Ow," snapped Peter.
"Ohhh," came James' plaintive voice. They all winced.
The thing was, they had a policy, the Marauders did, about wanking: Silencing Charms, necessary. Reasonable time limit, required. Remus was always good about it, and Peter sometimes forgot the Silencing Charm but he was always quick, and Sirius himself had gotten bored of making disgusting noises to terrify them all in third year, and since had gone about his business discreetly enough.
It was just James, stupid, exhibitionist James, who serviced himself at full volume, the very perverse fly in their collective ointment. And he never kept it under an hour--which was just indecent, no one needs to play with himself for that long--and he never, never apologized later.
"Oh yeah, Evans, just like that," he cried, from behind the curtains. Sirius tensed, ready to spring into a full blown rage, but it was Remus who put his book down and made a face.
"Time to do something," he sighed. "This has gotten disgusting. Again. Wands?"
"Um," Peter said, wringing his hands. "I feel bad, he sounds like he's really--"
"Wand, Wormtail!" Sirius and Remus snapped, together. Peter jumped, and handed his wand to Remus instantly.
"Thank you," Remus said. "Padfoot?"
"Gladly," Sirius said, holding his out at once.
This, of course, was the other Marauder wanking policy--if you violate the rules, you damn well deserve to be caught at it. As Peter had pointed out, they'd all seen each other's junk often enough not to worry about anything weird, and besides it was really only ever James they had to do it to.
Sirius kind of thought he got off on it. Sick bastard.
"Alright," Remus said. He mumbled a few words in Latin and the wands spun around twice, and flew back to their owners with little flags hanging from them.
Peter and Remus both had red; Sirius's was green. "Bugger," he muttered. "Next time we're flipping a fucking coin."
Remus shrugged. "Fair enough," he said, "I'm off to dinner," and he left before Sirius could stop him, Peter hot on his heels.
Traitors, Sirius thought. Then he steeled himself, practiced the turn and swish of the Bat-Bogey Hex once for good measure, and flung back James' curtains.
Prongs was tied to the bed. Tied to the bed. With Evans naked across him in reverse cowgirl.
"Goddamn it," said Sirius, "this shit is going to have to stop."
"Padfoot," James groaned, "please don't--"
"Hey," Evans snapped, "what the hell are you playing at? You had to know I was in here--"
"No, because you're the fucking silent lover--"
"--bet you get off on this, seeing us together--"
"Oh don't flatter yourself, I thought he was beating one off--"
"Because he normally yells my name when he's wanking, does he--"
"Why yes, Evans, actually he fucking does--"
"Padfoot!" James snapped, coloring. "That's enough, sweet Merlin that is enough."
Sirius gave them both the hairiest eyeball he could manage. "Just tell Remus and Peter, alright?" he said, finally. "I'm not being your--cover, or whatever."
James nodded at him; Evans was carefully trying to arrange herself into a covered position. Sirius gave her a withering look, but didn't comment.
He legged it out of the door, sticking his head back through to yell "And put up sodding Silencing Charms next time, you sick fuck!"
Sirius made it all the way down the stairs, out of the common room, and down the corridor before it hit him. Then he leaned against the wall and laughed, long and low, choking with it, until Remus found him and dragged him to dinner.
Three
It was nice, the flat.
It got a little lonely, sometimes, at first--when Remus was at work and he, Sirius, had nothing to do--but by and large, he liked the freedom of it. He'd keyed the Floo open for James and Peter and, grudgingly, Evans, and encouraged them to visit. Between that and his ability to roll up a spliff and smoke it in his bedroom whenever he liked, Sirius felt he could get used to post-Hogwarts life.
He had just such a spliff in his hand one day, smoked nearly down to the roach, when he heard a noise coming from the kitchen. Frowning, he snuffed the roach and got up, his wand in one hand, the Beater's bat he kept for emergencies in the other. He crept out the door of his bedroom and stepped silently towards his kitchen, pressing his back against the wall.
There was definitely someone in there. Drawing on all his Order skills, Sirius spun into the kitchen, the bat raised, his wand poised, his mouth open around a curse--
"Oh for Merlin's sake, you two," he spat, "you have your own bloody kitchen table."
James, pants around his ankles, made a gagging sound and Evans seemed to be asphyxiating with silent laughter.
"Padfoot--" James started.
"OUT," Sirius roared, "Get OUT," and James carried Lily deftly to the fire, threw in some powder, and stepped in.
"You didn't have to be such a tosser about it," James called, teasingly, from the other end. Sirius shut off the connection, seething, and set about warding his place so only Remus could enter.
Four
"Oh." Lily cried, with her back flush against the refrigerator, ice cold in contrast to the wet heat below her, "oh, god, yes, James, yes--"
James stood in front of her, holding her up, pounding up into her like his life depended on it. "Yes," he hissed, into her ear, "that's my girl, tell me what you like--"
"James," Lily gasped, "harder, I want you to--"
"Nice form," a third voice interrupted. Lily couldn't help herself--she screamed, a little. It was startling! James turned around in one fluid movement, still holding her in place--Lily would take a moment, later, to think about how incredibly sexy that was. For now, she was just angry.
"Padfoot," James growled.
"Prongs!" Sirius said, brightly. "Not so much fun when someone's in your kitchen uninvited, is it?" He smiled dangerously and took a low bow; before he stood up he made a soft tutting noise. "Evans," he said, taking a wise step out of reach, "you've shaved," and then with a tip of his hat he was back through the Floo fire.
"I'll kill him," James grunted. Lily thought about agreeing with him for a moment, and then the full impact of the moment hit her and she leaned into his chest and gave in to hysterics. After a moment, he joined her, and they sank to the floor, howling with it, still attached at the hip and lower.
(Thing was, it didn't take them that long to stop laughing. And they were already on the floor--it was easy, then, to finish what they'd started.)
Five
Harry wailed, and and wailed, and wailed. Sirius looked at him in despair and wished desperately that Remus, who always knew what to do in these moments, wasn't in some remote location. Again. There was nothing for it, though, he couldn't even send the bastard an Owl, because who knew where he was. Or what he was doing, Sirius thought, and hated himself.
As if sensing this, Harry redoubled his efforts. He had the Potter lungs, that was for sure, but Sirius was going to tear all his hair out if the little twit didn't shut up. He meant it with love, Harry was their little twit, but there was only so much one man could take. He scowled at Harry.
Harry called his scowl and raised him what smelled like a shit. Sirius despaired of his life.
It's not, he told himself, a little frantically, that Remus knows what to do in these situations. It's just that he's--the logic--he spends more time with the options. So I will just go through the options. Yes.
Twenty minutes later, he'd changed the sprong, fed the sprog, burped the sprong and rocked the sprog. The little bastard was still howling, and Sirius didn't want to, but he put the kid in his crib and walked over to the living room door.
It was the best Lily and James could do, these days, to get time to themselves--they stayed in the house and Sirius came over, watched the kid with a Silencing Charm up in the left half of the house while they busied themselves in the garden or the bedroom. James, especially, wanted out--Sirius could see it in his eyes, in the tremor that occasionally shot through his fingers--but the Fidelus Charm was the only way to protect his family.
Fuck, Sirius thought, his hand hovering over the doorknob, and then Harry let out another high pitched howl and his decision was made for him. Cursing internally, he opened the door, stepping through into blissful silence.
James and Lily were in the bedroom, and Sirius had the door half-opened when he heard the strangled sob and pulled back. He turned, carefully, and peered through at them.
James was on top, missionary style--it was the most traditional position he'd ever seen them in--and Lily was crying.
"I'm scared," she said, as James moved above her, touching her face, her hands. "I--what if we never leave, what if--"
"Shhh," James said. Sirius shuddered. He sounded like an adult. "Shh, I know. I know. It'll be ok."
There was this cavity in Sirius' chest he hadn't known about--it cracked and spilled emptiness out into him, an echoing, raw feeling. He felt like the dog scrabbling at the kitchen door, and he put his tail between his legs and slunk back into Harry's half of the house.
"Look," he said, picking up the wailing infant. He kept squalling, and Sirius lifted him, held him at eye level, and said "Look," with such ferocity that Harry stopped crying.
"I know," Sirius said. Harry looked at him with wide, solemn eyes. "I know this is a fucking disaster, kid. Believe me. There's nothing I'd like more than to give up and scream along with you." His voice cracked momentarily and Harry cocked his head, curious. Sirius swallowed hard and continued. "But we're men," he said, "you and me, and your parents are pretty great people, and so we've got to suck it up. Ok, sprong? Suck it up, let them have their night."
Harry looked him over contemplatively, and stuck his thumb in his mouth. Sirius placed him back in the crib and he was asleep almost instantly; limp with relief, Sirius sank to the ground, stared at his hands, and wondered, not for the first time, where the fuck Remus was.
(And One Time Remus...)
It's not even sunrise, and Remus stares into his morning cuppa and sighs. He hates this, this sleepless wandering he's gotten accustomed to, but he doesn't remember how to get to sleep when it's dark out, and he doesn't know what to do with himself during the day. So he's got this pattern, up until the sun rises, out until the sun sets, that's been working pretty well for him.
Well, actually, it's been terrible, but it's better than the alternative.
Sirius has been gone--again, Sirius has been gone again--for three months. Somewhere deep in his soul, Remus knows he needs to pull himself out of this, needs to climb up out of this hole and re-rebuild his life. It's just that it sounds so tiring, and Remus is so tired.
He sighs again, long and low, and takes the coffee cup up to his room. In the back of the closet there is a box of photographs, once carefully organized, now in the telltale disarray of frequent use.This is another part of his routine, this digging into his past, and he's rooting around for that shot of Sirius in only his boxers and a top-hat when he unearths a photo with Lily's writing on the back. He traces the loops of her handwriting with a pang.
"Summer," it says, "1979." Remus smiles, remembering the shot--it had been a candid, the two of them flirting on the couch in Sirius's flat. A sad little smile worms its way onto his face. He flips the photo over and gasps.
James and Lily are doing it. As he looks at them, they notice him. James, 20 and cock-sure and so alive, laughs and flips him the bird; Lily rolls her eyes and blows him a gently mocking kiss.
He looks down at them, thinks about crying, and bursts into laughter instead. It is the first time he has laughed since Sirius died, and all of it--the loss, the raw, hollow place in his chest--it all comes pouring out, brimming over his mouth and out into the room, filling him even as it escapes him.
"Jesus," Remus gasps, wiping his eyes, "like fucking bunnies, oh my god," and he sets himself off again. He curls sideways on his bed and laughs, like sobbing, until he is quiet, until he can finally, finally fall asleep.