Marauder Rare Pairs ♦ Fic: Irresistible Force
Title: Irresistible Force
Author: grandilloquism
Pairing: Remus/Regulus
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1200
Prompt: Regulus has a crush on his Arithmancy tutor, Remus Lupin. How can he get Remus to notice him?
Warnings: Disregard for personal safety and mentions of suicide
Summary: In which the question 'How can Regulus get Remus to notice him?' is answered by: Threatening to jump off of the Astronomy Tower, obviously.
Author's Notes: There's a chance this isn't as fluffy as I had intended. Actually, it's more like this is certainly less fluffy than I had intended. Still, I like it, which must count for something.
Possibly he was drunk. There had been alcohol involved, in any case, passed around the dormitory until the others were dull-witted and stuporous and Regulus' tolerance of them had reduced with each slow burning mouthful. It hadn't taken much after that for him to slip unnoticed out through the common room and into the dungeons. They hadn't suited his mood, though, and without really thinking too much of it his feet took him higher and higher into the castle, until eventually he could go no further.
He had always liked heights, had always sought out places where he could dangle his feet over sheer drops. The Astronomy Tower had the best view of the grounds in all of Hogwarts and a conveniently wide wall on which to perch and swing his feet over the dizzyingly distant roofs of the lower floors. The spot was a favorite of amorous couples, but the rumbling of not so distant thunder meant solitude. Snogging in thunderstorms could be romantic, but not in March and certainly not on top of the highest point for kilometres. Regulus could ignore the cold, though he wore nothing more than a cloak over his pajamas, and he suspected, though he couldn't know for sure, that there was some warding of the tower against lightning strikes. He didn't believe in safety, anyway, not really, and the alcohol had made him reckless.
The rain started in slow, desultory drips, prickling his hair and spotting his clothes, and metamorphosed into a driving torrent shockingly quick, soaking him through in seconds. He moved only to cast a warming charm on himself and to hunch further into his cloak. Distantly, he could see the lights of Hogsmeade, irregular flickers of orange and yellow, the only discernible feature in the shadowed landscape, except for the few lightning lit seconds when the grounds were shown in eerie flashes.
He almost didn't hear the voice when it spoke behind him, through the crash of rain and his own inebriation, only noticed it really because of the difference it made against the chaos of the storm. He turned to look behind him, bracing himself with one hand, to see a single unwavering point of brightness: a lit wand, held by he couldn't see who. The voice spoke again, and Regulus recognized his name. He turned back around, letting whoever it was decide whether he was worth the trouble of getting soaked.
A hand closed around his shoulder, warm even through the layers of waterlogged cloth, and he looked up into the face of Remus Lupin. It was a nice enough face, strong and even featured, the usually wavy brown hair plastered closely to his head, his eyebrows quirked curiously. "Regulus?" he repeated, for the third or fourth time, probably. Lupin had been his Arithmancy tutor since the end of fall term, and took all sorts of liberties.
"Lupin," he returned, and flashed a mad, fleeting smile, shrugging away his hand. It had been a foolish move, leaving the dungeons; he had known it was the Gryffindor prefects night to patrol the halls, and had let his feet lead him to the Tower, regardless. "Can I do something for you?" he asked, as if they were meeting at their usual table in the library.
A smile pulled at Lupin's mouth, and his white teeth flashed blue in the wandlight, "What are you doing up here?" Regulus' eyes followed Lupin's lips as he formed the words, then flashed down and away. The rest of the school had become invisible in the rain and gloom, and it caused an odd feeling of dissociation in Regulus.
"Preparing to jump to my death, obviously," his words were drowned out by the cymbal crash of thunder.
"What?" Lupin was shaking his head.
Regulus straightened and spoke directly into Lupin's ear, "Contemplating my suicide."
He drew back, gauging Regulus' expression. Finally, he nodded, "May I join you?" Regulus gestured to the empty wall beside him. Carefully he edged himself up, not turning himself around, though, as Regulus had, so that though they sat side-by-side they faced opposite directions.
The rain had begun to slacken before their relative silence was broken. "I have a confession," Lupin spoke, just loud enough to be heard over the rain. He was soaked through and shivering, rain water dripping off of his long nose. Impulsively, Regulus reached over and caught the next drop, bringing it up to his mouth. Lupin's smile flashed again.
"Tell me."
Lupin pushed his hair back, fruitlessly, as it turned out, since it only fell forward again, dangling wetly across half his face. "I'm afraid of heights."
Regulus laughed, too low to be heard, but seen easily enough, his shoulders shaking. "Perhaps you shouldn't sit on top of towers, then."
"But the company's scintillating."
Something more than magic and whiskey warmed his stomach. He looked away, to the indiscernible horizon. The storm had passed as quickly as it had begun, though the clouds remained thick overhead. He was numb from cold, his charm faded, frozen in place; he closed his eyes and felt the distance separating him from the ground. Falling, he though, must feel beautiful.
Lupin's hand gripped his upper arm, anchoring him. "I'd hate to have to explain this to your brother."
"This?" Regulus angled his face in Lupin's direction, eyes still tight shut.
"My letting you jump off the Astronomy Tower."
"Oh. That."
"What else would I mean?" Regulus wanted very much to see Lupin's expression, to read something more than the guarded curiosity in his voice, but he couldn't open his eyes without his own expression being vulnerable to interpretation.
"Remus?" he asked, ignoring the question. It was the first time he had ever called the other boy by his given name, and he felt his grip tighten reflexively on his arm.
"Yes?"
He opened his eyes, and was surprised to see that they were nose to nose. It would be so easy to lean forward, easy as pushing off the ledge. Not breaking eye contact, he leaned back, and was glad for the pain it caused in his chest. He shook his head, "I want..." He swung his feet out over the tower, and for a moment the temptation to slide his shoes off, to lose them to the space below, was overwhelming. He pressed the soles of them flat to the tower wall, his legs making odd angles, and it passed. He looked away, down at his hands clasped in his lap-- he was very cold and they were shivering. "Why are you here?"
"You looked as if you could use the company."
"That isn't a proper answer," Regulus scowled, rather pettishly, not looking up.
"It wasn't a proper question."
Regulus toed his shoes off, not even watching as they fell down, off somewhere into the grounds.
"Why--"
"Because I wanted to," he swung his head up, narrowed eyes catching and holding Lupin's. "Because I enjoyed it." Because it was easier to surrender his shoes to gravity than to surrender. "Why are you here?"
"Because," Lupin had gone all tight coiled, his movements suddenly stiff and jerky. "I'm here because," there was a long, loaded pause, "I'd very much like to kiss you, and I think you feel the same."
Regulus closed his eyes on that childish instinct of not being seen by what you cannot see. "I gave you that impression?"
"You did."
Regulus nodded, and opened his eyes, "Good answer."
Remus smiled.
Author: grandilloquism
Pairing: Remus/Regulus
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1200
Prompt: Regulus has a crush on his Arithmancy tutor, Remus Lupin. How can he get Remus to notice him?
Warnings: Disregard for personal safety and mentions of suicide
Summary: In which the question 'How can Regulus get Remus to notice him?' is answered by: Threatening to jump off of the Astronomy Tower, obviously.
Author's Notes: There's a chance this isn't as fluffy as I had intended. Actually, it's more like this is certainly less fluffy than I had intended. Still, I like it, which must count for something.
Possibly he was drunk. There had been alcohol involved, in any case, passed around the dormitory until the others were dull-witted and stuporous and Regulus' tolerance of them had reduced with each slow burning mouthful. It hadn't taken much after that for him to slip unnoticed out through the common room and into the dungeons. They hadn't suited his mood, though, and without really thinking too much of it his feet took him higher and higher into the castle, until eventually he could go no further.
He had always liked heights, had always sought out places where he could dangle his feet over sheer drops. The Astronomy Tower had the best view of the grounds in all of Hogwarts and a conveniently wide wall on which to perch and swing his feet over the dizzyingly distant roofs of the lower floors. The spot was a favorite of amorous couples, but the rumbling of not so distant thunder meant solitude. Snogging in thunderstorms could be romantic, but not in March and certainly not on top of the highest point for kilometres. Regulus could ignore the cold, though he wore nothing more than a cloak over his pajamas, and he suspected, though he couldn't know for sure, that there was some warding of the tower against lightning strikes. He didn't believe in safety, anyway, not really, and the alcohol had made him reckless.
The rain started in slow, desultory drips, prickling his hair and spotting his clothes, and metamorphosed into a driving torrent shockingly quick, soaking him through in seconds. He moved only to cast a warming charm on himself and to hunch further into his cloak. Distantly, he could see the lights of Hogsmeade, irregular flickers of orange and yellow, the only discernible feature in the shadowed landscape, except for the few lightning lit seconds when the grounds were shown in eerie flashes.
He almost didn't hear the voice when it spoke behind him, through the crash of rain and his own inebriation, only noticed it really because of the difference it made against the chaos of the storm. He turned to look behind him, bracing himself with one hand, to see a single unwavering point of brightness: a lit wand, held by he couldn't see who. The voice spoke again, and Regulus recognized his name. He turned back around, letting whoever it was decide whether he was worth the trouble of getting soaked.
A hand closed around his shoulder, warm even through the layers of waterlogged cloth, and he looked up into the face of Remus Lupin. It was a nice enough face, strong and even featured, the usually wavy brown hair plastered closely to his head, his eyebrows quirked curiously. "Regulus?" he repeated, for the third or fourth time, probably. Lupin had been his Arithmancy tutor since the end of fall term, and took all sorts of liberties.
"Lupin," he returned, and flashed a mad, fleeting smile, shrugging away his hand. It had been a foolish move, leaving the dungeons; he had known it was the Gryffindor prefects night to patrol the halls, and had let his feet lead him to the Tower, regardless. "Can I do something for you?" he asked, as if they were meeting at their usual table in the library.
A smile pulled at Lupin's mouth, and his white teeth flashed blue in the wandlight, "What are you doing up here?" Regulus' eyes followed Lupin's lips as he formed the words, then flashed down and away. The rest of the school had become invisible in the rain and gloom, and it caused an odd feeling of dissociation in Regulus.
"Preparing to jump to my death, obviously," his words were drowned out by the cymbal crash of thunder.
"What?" Lupin was shaking his head.
Regulus straightened and spoke directly into Lupin's ear, "Contemplating my suicide."
He drew back, gauging Regulus' expression. Finally, he nodded, "May I join you?" Regulus gestured to the empty wall beside him. Carefully he edged himself up, not turning himself around, though, as Regulus had, so that though they sat side-by-side they faced opposite directions.
The rain had begun to slacken before their relative silence was broken. "I have a confession," Lupin spoke, just loud enough to be heard over the rain. He was soaked through and shivering, rain water dripping off of his long nose. Impulsively, Regulus reached over and caught the next drop, bringing it up to his mouth. Lupin's smile flashed again.
"Tell me."
Lupin pushed his hair back, fruitlessly, as it turned out, since it only fell forward again, dangling wetly across half his face. "I'm afraid of heights."
Regulus laughed, too low to be heard, but seen easily enough, his shoulders shaking. "Perhaps you shouldn't sit on top of towers, then."
"But the company's scintillating."
Something more than magic and whiskey warmed his stomach. He looked away, to the indiscernible horizon. The storm had passed as quickly as it had begun, though the clouds remained thick overhead. He was numb from cold, his charm faded, frozen in place; he closed his eyes and felt the distance separating him from the ground. Falling, he though, must feel beautiful.
Lupin's hand gripped his upper arm, anchoring him. "I'd hate to have to explain this to your brother."
"This?" Regulus angled his face in Lupin's direction, eyes still tight shut.
"My letting you jump off the Astronomy Tower."
"Oh. That."
"What else would I mean?" Regulus wanted very much to see Lupin's expression, to read something more than the guarded curiosity in his voice, but he couldn't open his eyes without his own expression being vulnerable to interpretation.
"Remus?" he asked, ignoring the question. It was the first time he had ever called the other boy by his given name, and he felt his grip tighten reflexively on his arm.
"Yes?"
He opened his eyes, and was surprised to see that they were nose to nose. It would be so easy to lean forward, easy as pushing off the ledge. Not breaking eye contact, he leaned back, and was glad for the pain it caused in his chest. He shook his head, "I want..." He swung his feet out over the tower, and for a moment the temptation to slide his shoes off, to lose them to the space below, was overwhelming. He pressed the soles of them flat to the tower wall, his legs making odd angles, and it passed. He looked away, down at his hands clasped in his lap-- he was very cold and they were shivering. "Why are you here?"
"You looked as if you could use the company."
"That isn't a proper answer," Regulus scowled, rather pettishly, not looking up.
"It wasn't a proper question."
Regulus toed his shoes off, not even watching as they fell down, off somewhere into the grounds.
"Why--"
"Because I wanted to," he swung his head up, narrowed eyes catching and holding Lupin's. "Because I enjoyed it." Because it was easier to surrender his shoes to gravity than to surrender. "Why are you here?"
"Because," Lupin had gone all tight coiled, his movements suddenly stiff and jerky. "I'm here because," there was a long, loaded pause, "I'd very much like to kiss you, and I think you feel the same."
Regulus closed his eyes on that childish instinct of not being seen by what you cannot see. "I gave you that impression?"
"You did."
Regulus nodded, and opened his eyes, "Good answer."
Remus smiled.