fic: De Nobis Fabula Narratur (Sirius/Remus)
Title: De Nobis Fabula Narratur
Author: victoria p. [victoria @ unfitforsociety.net]
Summary: "This is the fairytale of Moony and Padfoot."
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Rowling's, not mine.
Feedback: is love.
Notes: Lo, these many moons ago, rynne ran a Shakespeare challenge, wherein we were all assigned an inspirational quote. This is my very late entry.
Date: June 14, 2005
~*~
De Nobis Fabula Narratur
no sooner
met but they looked, no sooner looked but they
loved, no sooner loved but they sighed, no sooner
sighed but they asked one another the reason, no
sooner knew the reason but they sought the remedy;
As You Like It, Act V, scene ii
***
1.
It wasn't love at first sight, no matter what Sirius would say later.
It wasn't that Sirius wasn't happy to be in Gryffindor, because he was. Eventually. And it wasn't that Sirius hadn't got used to being where he wasn't wanted pretty quickly, because he'd had plenty of practice at home, even before the sorting debacle. But still, it had been of a bit of a shock at first, with James looking at him like he was something that came in on the bottom of a shoe, and Peter hovering nervously around James as they settled into the dormitory that first night.
Remus had been beneath Sirius's notice at first, as the Lupins were nobodies, and Sirius was sure he only wanted to be friends with people who were somebodies, even if they were somebodies his mother hated. Perhaps especially if they were somebodies his mother hated. While the Potters fit that description, the Lupins did not.
Remus was quiet and plain and pale, with robes that were just a half-inch too short, shirts that were already worn thin with washing, and eyes that seemed to see everything, and wanted to see more.
It wasn't until their first flying lesson that Sirius really noticed Remus. He wasn't quite as good on a broom as James was, but then, nobody was as good as James was. He was as good as Sirius, though, which was a surprise, because Remus often looked as if he would fall over dead if the wind blew too fiercely.
But the friendship wasn't sealed until after their third Potions lesson, when Remus's cauldron exploded in a spectacular burst of orange sludge (the potion they were attempting was supposed to be blue), and then only because they were both laughing so hard afterward that Professor Vervaine took five house points each and gave them detention, which they spent passing notes under her less-than-watchful eye.
It was love at first sight, Sirius would say, but Remus would shake his head and laugh.
No, it wasn't.
Who's telling this story, Moony?
You're telling it wrong.
Even if it wasn't love at first sight, Sirius would continue, it should have been. It feels like it was.
And Remus would smile and kiss him.
***
2.
Sirius liked solving mysteries. He liked it when all the pieces fit together, and he could see the full picture, understand the patterns beneath the chaos.
Unlike the crossword in the Prophet, Sirius didn't really have to spend much effort figuring out people. Most of them were transparent, easy to read. Even at twelve he could pick out hidden agendas, secret motives, equivocators who said one thing with their mouths and another with their eyes or bodies.
Remus was a mystery, and that's why he held Sirius's interest for far longer than either of them ever expected.
Sirius was pretty well-versed in hexes and curses; life in the Black family had taught him a lot of things most people probably never learned, and never needed to. So he took a particular interest in what appeared to be the Lupin family curse, that once a month, a family member would drop dead, or Remus's mother would fall ill, or Remus himself would end up in the hospital wing overnight with some mysterious ailment that seemed to involve a lot of bandages the next morning.
It was only after Peter, on a late night raid to the kitchen in February of their second year, commented about how bright the full moon was that the pieces clicked together in Sirius's head. It didn't occur to him to be scared. Remus was Remus, with his second-hand robes and his faraway eyes, and Sirius had grown up among far more frightening things.
He told James first, of course, because he told James everything, and James thought about it for a few minutes, and then said, "We'll have to ask him." And, "I can't believe he didn't tell us."
But Sirius could believe it, knew how badly most people would respond, his own parents included.
"Would you have told?" Peter asked skeptically. "I reckon he's scared, and who could blame him?"
Sirius nodded at this show of good sense, and they swore to each other they weren't scared and wouldn't be mean, but they wanted answers.
"I don't like it when my friends lie to me," James said, as they all gathered around Remus's bed the next night. Remus looked pale as the sheets he was lying on, but they had to make him understand. "And we're all friends, right?"
Remus nodded slowly, his eyes wide and a little frightened.
"Are you a werewolf?" James asked.
"We don't care," Sirius said.
"We think it's kind of cool, actually," Peter said.
"We just want to know the truth," Sirius finished.
"Yes," Remus said, a breath of air with almost no sound. Sirius hadn't thought it possible for him to get any paler, but he did. He seemed to shrink in on himself, though his eyes moved from one to the other of them, as if seeking escape. "Yes, it's true. I'll understand if you don't want to share a room with me anymore, but please don't tell anyone. I don't want to leave school." The words came tumbling out now, as if once the secret were revealed, he couldn't stop talking.
"Prat," James said, cuffing him lightly on the shoulder. "Weren't you listening to what we said?"
"We're your friends," Peter said, offering him a Chocolate Frog.
"Forever," Sirius promised fervently.
I was scared, Remus would later admit. Terrified everyone would find out, and I'd be sent home. But mostly I was afraid I'd lose my friends.
I said forever and I meant it, Sirius would answer. Still do.
And Remus would smile and kiss him.
***
3.
Research was not his strong suit -- that's what Remus did best -- but Sirius managed well enough the first few months, figuring out what they needed to do. Really, it was figuring out what they needed to figure out in order to do what they wanted to do.
It was long nights spent sneaking into the library under the cover of James's invisibility cloak while Peter kept Remus occupied with essays on the twelve uses of shrivelfigs in healing potions or copies of the latest Which Broomstick.
Third year, they were able to hide it from him while they read and studied and learned things no other third-year students would have even attempted, let alone succeeded in doing.
But Remus noticed they weren't including him as much any more, and he started to withdraw. He even went so far as to sit with one of the other Gryffindor boys in Potions, which ended in disaster and detention for all of them.
"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, Lupin?" Sirius demanded as they reorganized the Potions storeroom for Professor Vervaine.
Remus looked at the jar in his hand and shuddered slightly. "I didn't think frogs actually had toes," he said, shelving it next to the eye of newt. Professor Vervaine was a fan of Shakespeare, and she liked to quote him in class sometimes, even though Sirius's mum said he was a Squib and the shame of his family.
"That's not an answer." Sirius shoved the jar of salamander tongues next to the frog toes. "Why did you sit with Jason instead of me?"
"Why do you care?"
"Because we're friends, you git!"
"Are we?"
Sirius was impressed by how much sarcasm Remus managed to fit into those two small words; he'd obviously been paying close attention to Sirius's constant stream of snarky commentary over the past three years.
"Of course we are."
"Look, I know you lot have been doing things without me, and that's fine," Remus said, but his tone belied the words. "I even know why, and it's okay."
"You know?" Sirius stared at him. If Remus knew, that meant he could help them. It meant they could get through some of the books faster, because Remus was ace at Ancient Runes, way better than Peter and nearly as good as Sirius himself.
"It's because I'm a werewolf," Remus mumbled.
"Well, yeah," Sirius said, mind already racing ahead with possibilities. Remus's hand shook as he reached for the jar of jobberknowl drool, and his lower lip wobbled a little, and Sirius thought he looked like he was about to be sick, or start crying, or both.
"That's it, then," Remus said, and his voice cracked. "If you want me to move out of the dorm--"
"What are you talking about? You can't leave now! You have to help--"
"Help with what?"
"Help with what?" Sirius repeated. "With the Animagus transformation, of course. What the hell do you think we're talking about?"
"I-- I--" Remus sniffed and turned away. Sirius whirled in the other direction to give him what little privacy there was in the small storage room, because it was not on to watch a mate cry.
"You big girl's blouse," Sirius said after what he felt was a decent amount of time. He cuffed Remus on the back of the head and Remus turned, smiling. Sirius pretended not to notice that his lashes were beaded with tears.
It was harder, two years later, to ignore the tears of joy Remus tried to hide by burying his face in Sirius's black fur, because Sirius could taste the salt as he licked Remus's beaming face.
They did it because it was cool, it was illegal, and no one had ever managed it before, Remus would say.
It was cool, and it was illegal, Sirius would agree, but we did it for you.
And Remus would smile and kiss him.
***
4.
Even if James hadn't driven the point home with his fists, Sirius knew he had to face Remus, tell him the truth about what had happened. Because as much as Snivellus deserved to have the shit scared out of him (and as far as Sirius was concerned, he deserved it so much that it was worth losing every one of the staggering amount of house points Dumbledore had taken from Gryffindor because of it), Remus didn't deserve to be lying in the infirmary, blood-soaked bandages the only thing holding him together. He looked more fragile than all the promises Sirius had broken last night, and while Sirius tried to blame everyone but himself (Snape deserved it, and it's not like he got hurt anyway, James saved him. Git.), a small, truthful part of him knew it was wrong, it was his own fault, and that he was everything he'd sworn he'd never be.
Sirius must have fallen asleep because he woke with a start when Remus said, "Hey," in a voice that sounded as if his throat was scraped raw.
"Hey," he said, his own voice low and scratchy.
"You didn't come last night."
"No, we-- I--" He shifted from the chair to the bed, wincing at the way Remus flinched when the mattress bounced under his weight. He swallowed hard, then blurted, "I fucked up, Moony. I'm sorry." It was one of the hardest things he'd ever said, and the silence stretching between them as he waited for Remus to respond was one of the longest of his life.
"S'okay, Padfoot." Remus lifted a hand and Sirius grabbed it, squeezing tightly. "I'm sure you didn't mean to."
"I didn't, I really didn't," Sirius said, jumping at the lifeline Remus threw him, though he knew, down deep inside, that in a way, he really had. "Budge over," he said, lying down and curling around Remus's bruised and battered body. He hadn't been there last night, but he could be here now. He fell asleep listening to Remus's even breathing, and swearing to rebuild all the promises he'd broken, stronger than before.
I was an utter berk, Sirius would say. I'm surprised you ever forgave me.
You weren't that bad, Remus would answer. We both did our share of stupid things.
Nobody was stupider than me, though, Sirius would say.
And Remus would smile and kiss him.
***
5.
Sirius hadn't ever expected to fancy blokes, and he certainly hadn't ever thought of Moony that way, and yet, the night of their last leaving feast, when everyone else was paired off for that last "farewell to Hogwarts" shag, he found himself lying next to Remus on the Quidditch pitch, heart pounding and palms sweaty.
"The Greeks conflated Bastet with Artemis," Remus was saying, his voice soft and slurred from the full moon two days before, a long day in the sun today and an awful lot of red currant rum after the feast itself. "Before that, she was associated with the sun. She was a warrior goddess. Ra's eyes, his avenger. Lion-headed, lion-hearted." Remus was always given to flights of fancy when they tied one on. God help him, Sirius thought it was cute.
"Gryffindor."
"Yeah."
"Like us."
Remus laughed. "Yeah."
But Sirius didn't feel very brave. He rolled onto his side and propped his head up on his hand so he could look down at Remus, who wore a goofy grin.
"They worshipped cats," Sirius said, trying to remember a little of what they'd learned about ancient Egypt in Ancient Runes.
"Yeah."
"What about dogs?"
"I don't think the dogs worshipped cats," Remus said. "Probably just chased them up trees." He laughed, his teeth gleaming in the light of the waning moon.
Sirius took a deep breath, leaned in, and kissed him.
He could feel Remus's gasp, and then Remus's hands were in his hair, on his shoulders, pulling him close, down, inexorable as gravity and twice as necessary.
"Oh," Remus said, and again, "oh," when they came up for air.
"Yeah," Sirius answered. "Yeah."
You tasted like summer, like freedom, Sirius would say.
I tasted of red currant rum and trifle, Remus would reply.
Well, those, too. You have no romance in your soul, Remus.
But you love me anyway.
Yeah, I do.
And Remus would smile and kiss him.
***
6.
The flat was small, and the neighborhood dodgy. They had to walk up four flights of stairs to get to it, and the only view was of the alley between the buildings, where the neighborhood kids hung out to smoke pot. When Remus opened the windows, the sweet smell of it didn't do anything to improve the odor of garbage, exhaust, cat piss and dirty socks that permeated the air both in and out of doors.
But it was theirs, and Sirius loved it.
Sirius was especially glad to have someone cling to that evening, because James and Lily had just announced they were having a baby.
"Pregnant!" he said again, for the fortieth time, flopping down on the bed. "Can you believe that?"
Remus laughed. "Not really, no. Not any more than the first thirty-nine times you said it."
"Prongs! And Evans! Pregnant!" Even the firewhisky they'd toasted the happy couple with couldn't dull his surprise. "Remember when she said she'd rather go out with the giant squid?"
"Yes," Remus answered, lying next to Sirius. He started laughing, and buried his face against Sirius's shoulder to try and stop. Sirius shifted, and then Remus's face was pressed to his neck, his breath warm and moist, lips skimming over sensitive skin. Sirius shivered and bit back a gasp.
"Prongs and Evans. James and Lily. Getting married and having a baby."
"Mmm," Remus said against his jaw, and Sirius's body vibrated in response, in anticipation.
Sirius almost allowed himself to be distracted by the interesting things Remus's tongue was doing to his ear, but another thought hit him and he said, "We're going to be uncles. We're going to be able to tell the Prongslet all about his dad's misspent youth. How Evans shunned him, as all reasonable people should."
"Except she's obviously not shunning him anymore," Remus murmured in his ear. "Hard to get pregnant when you're shunning someone, unless it doesn't mean what I think it means. Or it does, but you're doing it wrong. We, for example, have been doing it wrong for ages."
"Shunning James?"
"Obviously."
Remus's hands began undoing Sirius's flies, nearly driving all thoughts of James and Lily and their forthcoming sprog out of Sirius's mind, but before the thoughts were gone completely, he said, "We're going to be uncles. We can tell him all about everything." Even in the midst of the war, it was going to be great.
"Yeah," Remus replied, and then there was no room in the bed for anyone but them, and Sirius loved that, too.
This is the fairytale of Moony and Padfoot, Sirius would tell the sprog. And we lived happily ever after.
And Remus would smile and kiss him.
end
~*~
Additional note: The title means "the story is told of us" in Latin. Or so mousapelli assures me. *g*
~*~
Feedback of all sorts is welcome.
Author: victoria p. [victoria @ unfitforsociety.net]
Summary: "This is the fairytale of Moony and Padfoot."
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Rowling's, not mine.
Feedback: is love.
Notes: Lo, these many moons ago, rynne ran a Shakespeare challenge, wherein we were all assigned an inspirational quote. This is my very late entry.
Date: June 14, 2005
~*~
De Nobis Fabula Narratur
no sooner
met but they looked, no sooner looked but they
loved, no sooner loved but they sighed, no sooner
sighed but they asked one another the reason, no
sooner knew the reason but they sought the remedy;
As You Like It, Act V, scene ii
***
1.
It wasn't love at first sight, no matter what Sirius would say later.
It wasn't that Sirius wasn't happy to be in Gryffindor, because he was. Eventually. And it wasn't that Sirius hadn't got used to being where he wasn't wanted pretty quickly, because he'd had plenty of practice at home, even before the sorting debacle. But still, it had been of a bit of a shock at first, with James looking at him like he was something that came in on the bottom of a shoe, and Peter hovering nervously around James as they settled into the dormitory that first night.
Remus had been beneath Sirius's notice at first, as the Lupins were nobodies, and Sirius was sure he only wanted to be friends with people who were somebodies, even if they were somebodies his mother hated. Perhaps especially if they were somebodies his mother hated. While the Potters fit that description, the Lupins did not.
Remus was quiet and plain and pale, with robes that were just a half-inch too short, shirts that were already worn thin with washing, and eyes that seemed to see everything, and wanted to see more.
It wasn't until their first flying lesson that Sirius really noticed Remus. He wasn't quite as good on a broom as James was, but then, nobody was as good as James was. He was as good as Sirius, though, which was a surprise, because Remus often looked as if he would fall over dead if the wind blew too fiercely.
But the friendship wasn't sealed until after their third Potions lesson, when Remus's cauldron exploded in a spectacular burst of orange sludge (the potion they were attempting was supposed to be blue), and then only because they were both laughing so hard afterward that Professor Vervaine took five house points each and gave them detention, which they spent passing notes under her less-than-watchful eye.
It was love at first sight, Sirius would say, but Remus would shake his head and laugh.
No, it wasn't.
Who's telling this story, Moony?
You're telling it wrong.
Even if it wasn't love at first sight, Sirius would continue, it should have been. It feels like it was.
And Remus would smile and kiss him.
***
2.
Sirius liked solving mysteries. He liked it when all the pieces fit together, and he could see the full picture, understand the patterns beneath the chaos.
Unlike the crossword in the Prophet, Sirius didn't really have to spend much effort figuring out people. Most of them were transparent, easy to read. Even at twelve he could pick out hidden agendas, secret motives, equivocators who said one thing with their mouths and another with their eyes or bodies.
Remus was a mystery, and that's why he held Sirius's interest for far longer than either of them ever expected.
Sirius was pretty well-versed in hexes and curses; life in the Black family had taught him a lot of things most people probably never learned, and never needed to. So he took a particular interest in what appeared to be the Lupin family curse, that once a month, a family member would drop dead, or Remus's mother would fall ill, or Remus himself would end up in the hospital wing overnight with some mysterious ailment that seemed to involve a lot of bandages the next morning.
It was only after Peter, on a late night raid to the kitchen in February of their second year, commented about how bright the full moon was that the pieces clicked together in Sirius's head. It didn't occur to him to be scared. Remus was Remus, with his second-hand robes and his faraway eyes, and Sirius had grown up among far more frightening things.
He told James first, of course, because he told James everything, and James thought about it for a few minutes, and then said, "We'll have to ask him." And, "I can't believe he didn't tell us."
But Sirius could believe it, knew how badly most people would respond, his own parents included.
"Would you have told?" Peter asked skeptically. "I reckon he's scared, and who could blame him?"
Sirius nodded at this show of good sense, and they swore to each other they weren't scared and wouldn't be mean, but they wanted answers.
"I don't like it when my friends lie to me," James said, as they all gathered around Remus's bed the next night. Remus looked pale as the sheets he was lying on, but they had to make him understand. "And we're all friends, right?"
Remus nodded slowly, his eyes wide and a little frightened.
"Are you a werewolf?" James asked.
"We don't care," Sirius said.
"We think it's kind of cool, actually," Peter said.
"We just want to know the truth," Sirius finished.
"Yes," Remus said, a breath of air with almost no sound. Sirius hadn't thought it possible for him to get any paler, but he did. He seemed to shrink in on himself, though his eyes moved from one to the other of them, as if seeking escape. "Yes, it's true. I'll understand if you don't want to share a room with me anymore, but please don't tell anyone. I don't want to leave school." The words came tumbling out now, as if once the secret were revealed, he couldn't stop talking.
"Prat," James said, cuffing him lightly on the shoulder. "Weren't you listening to what we said?"
"We're your friends," Peter said, offering him a Chocolate Frog.
"Forever," Sirius promised fervently.
I was scared, Remus would later admit. Terrified everyone would find out, and I'd be sent home. But mostly I was afraid I'd lose my friends.
I said forever and I meant it, Sirius would answer. Still do.
And Remus would smile and kiss him.
***
3.
Research was not his strong suit -- that's what Remus did best -- but Sirius managed well enough the first few months, figuring out what they needed to do. Really, it was figuring out what they needed to figure out in order to do what they wanted to do.
It was long nights spent sneaking into the library under the cover of James's invisibility cloak while Peter kept Remus occupied with essays on the twelve uses of shrivelfigs in healing potions or copies of the latest Which Broomstick.
Third year, they were able to hide it from him while they read and studied and learned things no other third-year students would have even attempted, let alone succeeded in doing.
But Remus noticed they weren't including him as much any more, and he started to withdraw. He even went so far as to sit with one of the other Gryffindor boys in Potions, which ended in disaster and detention for all of them.
"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, Lupin?" Sirius demanded as they reorganized the Potions storeroom for Professor Vervaine.
Remus looked at the jar in his hand and shuddered slightly. "I didn't think frogs actually had toes," he said, shelving it next to the eye of newt. Professor Vervaine was a fan of Shakespeare, and she liked to quote him in class sometimes, even though Sirius's mum said he was a Squib and the shame of his family.
"That's not an answer." Sirius shoved the jar of salamander tongues next to the frog toes. "Why did you sit with Jason instead of me?"
"Why do you care?"
"Because we're friends, you git!"
"Are we?"
Sirius was impressed by how much sarcasm Remus managed to fit into those two small words; he'd obviously been paying close attention to Sirius's constant stream of snarky commentary over the past three years.
"Of course we are."
"Look, I know you lot have been doing things without me, and that's fine," Remus said, but his tone belied the words. "I even know why, and it's okay."
"You know?" Sirius stared at him. If Remus knew, that meant he could help them. It meant they could get through some of the books faster, because Remus was ace at Ancient Runes, way better than Peter and nearly as good as Sirius himself.
"It's because I'm a werewolf," Remus mumbled.
"Well, yeah," Sirius said, mind already racing ahead with possibilities. Remus's hand shook as he reached for the jar of jobberknowl drool, and his lower lip wobbled a little, and Sirius thought he looked like he was about to be sick, or start crying, or both.
"That's it, then," Remus said, and his voice cracked. "If you want me to move out of the dorm--"
"What are you talking about? You can't leave now! You have to help--"
"Help with what?"
"Help with what?" Sirius repeated. "With the Animagus transformation, of course. What the hell do you think we're talking about?"
"I-- I--" Remus sniffed and turned away. Sirius whirled in the other direction to give him what little privacy there was in the small storage room, because it was not on to watch a mate cry.
"You big girl's blouse," Sirius said after what he felt was a decent amount of time. He cuffed Remus on the back of the head and Remus turned, smiling. Sirius pretended not to notice that his lashes were beaded with tears.
It was harder, two years later, to ignore the tears of joy Remus tried to hide by burying his face in Sirius's black fur, because Sirius could taste the salt as he licked Remus's beaming face.
They did it because it was cool, it was illegal, and no one had ever managed it before, Remus would say.
It was cool, and it was illegal, Sirius would agree, but we did it for you.
And Remus would smile and kiss him.
***
4.
Even if James hadn't driven the point home with his fists, Sirius knew he had to face Remus, tell him the truth about what had happened. Because as much as Snivellus deserved to have the shit scared out of him (and as far as Sirius was concerned, he deserved it so much that it was worth losing every one of the staggering amount of house points Dumbledore had taken from Gryffindor because of it), Remus didn't deserve to be lying in the infirmary, blood-soaked bandages the only thing holding him together. He looked more fragile than all the promises Sirius had broken last night, and while Sirius tried to blame everyone but himself (Snape deserved it, and it's not like he got hurt anyway, James saved him. Git.), a small, truthful part of him knew it was wrong, it was his own fault, and that he was everything he'd sworn he'd never be.
Sirius must have fallen asleep because he woke with a start when Remus said, "Hey," in a voice that sounded as if his throat was scraped raw.
"Hey," he said, his own voice low and scratchy.
"You didn't come last night."
"No, we-- I--" He shifted from the chair to the bed, wincing at the way Remus flinched when the mattress bounced under his weight. He swallowed hard, then blurted, "I fucked up, Moony. I'm sorry." It was one of the hardest things he'd ever said, and the silence stretching between them as he waited for Remus to respond was one of the longest of his life.
"S'okay, Padfoot." Remus lifted a hand and Sirius grabbed it, squeezing tightly. "I'm sure you didn't mean to."
"I didn't, I really didn't," Sirius said, jumping at the lifeline Remus threw him, though he knew, down deep inside, that in a way, he really had. "Budge over," he said, lying down and curling around Remus's bruised and battered body. He hadn't been there last night, but he could be here now. He fell asleep listening to Remus's even breathing, and swearing to rebuild all the promises he'd broken, stronger than before.
I was an utter berk, Sirius would say. I'm surprised you ever forgave me.
You weren't that bad, Remus would answer. We both did our share of stupid things.
Nobody was stupider than me, though, Sirius would say.
And Remus would smile and kiss him.
***
5.
Sirius hadn't ever expected to fancy blokes, and he certainly hadn't ever thought of Moony that way, and yet, the night of their last leaving feast, when everyone else was paired off for that last "farewell to Hogwarts" shag, he found himself lying next to Remus on the Quidditch pitch, heart pounding and palms sweaty.
"The Greeks conflated Bastet with Artemis," Remus was saying, his voice soft and slurred from the full moon two days before, a long day in the sun today and an awful lot of red currant rum after the feast itself. "Before that, she was associated with the sun. She was a warrior goddess. Ra's eyes, his avenger. Lion-headed, lion-hearted." Remus was always given to flights of fancy when they tied one on. God help him, Sirius thought it was cute.
"Gryffindor."
"Yeah."
"Like us."
Remus laughed. "Yeah."
But Sirius didn't feel very brave. He rolled onto his side and propped his head up on his hand so he could look down at Remus, who wore a goofy grin.
"They worshipped cats," Sirius said, trying to remember a little of what they'd learned about ancient Egypt in Ancient Runes.
"Yeah."
"What about dogs?"
"I don't think the dogs worshipped cats," Remus said. "Probably just chased them up trees." He laughed, his teeth gleaming in the light of the waning moon.
Sirius took a deep breath, leaned in, and kissed him.
He could feel Remus's gasp, and then Remus's hands were in his hair, on his shoulders, pulling him close, down, inexorable as gravity and twice as necessary.
"Oh," Remus said, and again, "oh," when they came up for air.
"Yeah," Sirius answered. "Yeah."
You tasted like summer, like freedom, Sirius would say.
I tasted of red currant rum and trifle, Remus would reply.
Well, those, too. You have no romance in your soul, Remus.
But you love me anyway.
Yeah, I do.
And Remus would smile and kiss him.
***
6.
The flat was small, and the neighborhood dodgy. They had to walk up four flights of stairs to get to it, and the only view was of the alley between the buildings, where the neighborhood kids hung out to smoke pot. When Remus opened the windows, the sweet smell of it didn't do anything to improve the odor of garbage, exhaust, cat piss and dirty socks that permeated the air both in and out of doors.
But it was theirs, and Sirius loved it.
Sirius was especially glad to have someone cling to that evening, because James and Lily had just announced they were having a baby.
"Pregnant!" he said again, for the fortieth time, flopping down on the bed. "Can you believe that?"
Remus laughed. "Not really, no. Not any more than the first thirty-nine times you said it."
"Prongs! And Evans! Pregnant!" Even the firewhisky they'd toasted the happy couple with couldn't dull his surprise. "Remember when she said she'd rather go out with the giant squid?"
"Yes," Remus answered, lying next to Sirius. He started laughing, and buried his face against Sirius's shoulder to try and stop. Sirius shifted, and then Remus's face was pressed to his neck, his breath warm and moist, lips skimming over sensitive skin. Sirius shivered and bit back a gasp.
"Prongs and Evans. James and Lily. Getting married and having a baby."
"Mmm," Remus said against his jaw, and Sirius's body vibrated in response, in anticipation.
Sirius almost allowed himself to be distracted by the interesting things Remus's tongue was doing to his ear, but another thought hit him and he said, "We're going to be uncles. We're going to be able to tell the Prongslet all about his dad's misspent youth. How Evans shunned him, as all reasonable people should."
"Except she's obviously not shunning him anymore," Remus murmured in his ear. "Hard to get pregnant when you're shunning someone, unless it doesn't mean what I think it means. Or it does, but you're doing it wrong. We, for example, have been doing it wrong for ages."
"Shunning James?"
"Obviously."
Remus's hands began undoing Sirius's flies, nearly driving all thoughts of James and Lily and their forthcoming sprog out of Sirius's mind, but before the thoughts were gone completely, he said, "We're going to be uncles. We can tell him all about everything." Even in the midst of the war, it was going to be great.
"Yeah," Remus replied, and then there was no room in the bed for anyone but them, and Sirius loved that, too.
This is the fairytale of Moony and Padfoot, Sirius would tell the sprog. And we lived happily ever after.
And Remus would smile and kiss him.
end
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Additional note: The title means "the story is told of us" in Latin. Or so mousapelli assures me. *g*
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Feedback of all sorts is welcome.