Fic: At This Moment (You Mean Everything) for labelleetlabete
Title: At This Moment (You Mean Everything)
Author littlepistols (aka cackling_madly)
Recipient: labelleetlabete
Rating: PG-13
Contents or warnings (highlight to view): *references to music and the UK Punk scene in the 1970's, a teeny bit of gore, boys being boneheaded, fighting, rough kissing, frottage*
Word count: 2744
Summary: Remus couldn't say no to his mates and their latest adventure, especially when Sirius was looking at him like that…
Notes: A huge thanks to the mods, who were infinitely patient with me, as always, and run one of the best fests in this fandom. Also thanks to brighty18 for her lightening-fast beta, sharp eye and encouragement. Any mistakes are my own inability to leave well enough alone.
labelleetlabete, I know you wanted something "filled with the arrogance and invincibility of youth", and I'm not sure I got there but I hope I came close. Hope this works for you:) Happy Holidays!
Though my initial inspiration was that scene in The Perks of Being a Wallflower (you know, that scene, with that song), I owe as much inspiration to The Sex Pistols… and Taylor Swift (strange combination, I know…)
"Well," said James, expectant eyes blinking owlishly through black-rimmed glasses at Remus, "what do you think?"
Remus tried for words, all the while staring down at the crumpled flyer in his hands.
"It's brilliant, isn't it?" Sirius answered for him, wide smile on his face making him look more handsome and enigmatic than usual. Like always, Remus lost the ability to think clearly at the flash of that smile, much less speak.
"I think he's on board," James mock-whispered. Then louder, "Aren't you, mate?"
He eyed Peter, who was looking back at him, obviously leery, hands wringing in what Remus suspected might be an unholy combination of anticipation and anxiety. The uneven letters on the Xeroxed piece of paper spelled out the cause of those feelings:
Right there with you, Pete, he thought, having already privately given in - couldn't say no to Sirius of all people, especially when he was looking at Remus from half-lidded eyes, a flirtatious smile on his face. He sighed and nodded slowly, but James and Sirius' whoops of delight began ringing out and echoing around their dorm room before he'd finished the first tilt of his head.
He saw Peter gulp before the upturned corners of his lips gave him away.
Exactly how you feel, Remus thought as he dropped The Daily Prophet he'd been reading on the floor, ominous two-column article on the possibility of war instantly forgotten. He grabbed his cloak and wand.
*
Remus could think of nothing worse. Disappearing for the night, absconding to a shady part of Glasgow (and for Glasgow, that was saying something) to see a band they'd never heard of, when James and Sirius both were supposed to be in detention with Professor McGonagall all evening. The fake owl from James' mum had to be the most ill conceived plan James and Sirius had ever come up with. Even Peter, who'd once tried to pass off an illegible scribble on a jelly-stained bit of parchment as his dad's, agreed. Yet, Remus found himself hurrying along behind them down the tunnel to Hogsmeade, excited at the prospect of loud music in a dive bar, cheap Muggle beer, and freedom. The prospect of what the looks Sirius had been giving him lately might mean were only a bonus.
He couldn't wait to get there.
*
The Unicorn was nestled in between two boarded up storefronts on a badly lit street just outside of Glasgow proper. There was no sign outside but the milling about of safety-pinned ruffians in tartan drainpipe trousers and multi-coloured Mohawks gave its location away. Though "milling" was perhaps the wrong word, Remus thought, as they approached the doors of the club. "Roughhousing" might have been a better one. Well, had there been less blood.
"Oi, what do you think's going on there?" Peter asked, sounding wary.
James stopped short of walking into their chubby friend and craned his neck to get a good look at the small mob. "Just lads having a bit of a good time, I suspect," he said, elbowing Sirius beside him. Sirius smirked, looking almost giddy at the scene before them and Remus tried to refrain from rolling his eyes. Despite the perfect shiny, dark hair, good looks and impeccable grooming, this really was Sirius' scene.
Sirius loved Muggle music, had since hearing the first strains of "Imagine" coming from the girls' dormitories back in first year. That was also, incidentally, when they learned that boys weren't allowed, by mandate and magic, to go anywhere near the girls' rooms without alerting the staff and bringing the wrath of McGonagall with it. It also earned the Marauders their first group detention. Sirius had evolved from the Beatles and Zeppelin to the likes of Richard Hell and Johnny Rotten and his lot. It was the lure of the possibility that The Spots were indeed the Sex Pistols in disguise that had Sirius bounding all over Hogwarts in excitement the day before, roping James in easily and strong-arming Remus into going along with their foolhardy plan (and Peter, of course, came easier after that). Remus liked the Sex Pistols well enough, though truth be told, he could just as easily listen to Nick Drake or Joni Mitchell (and no, he wasn't secretly a girl, no matter what his mates said). But Sirius loved them. He loved the raw energy, the chaos and life of the music, though he'd never said it in those words. Possibly, Remus had read more into it, and Sirius just loved the idea of destroying everything. On second thought, it was probably that.
Sirius made friends with the Muggleborns in their dorm who had a record player and the great fortune of having older siblings who would send them the latest albums throughout the year. Over the years, he managed, through charm and trickery, to get his hands on quite a few LPs and had himself an eclectic collection. He played them all on Remus' old battered Bush, not minding the one tinny speaker. Remus figured he fell in love with Sirius while watching him listen to a record in their dorm sometime in Fifth, though in truth he'd probably starting falling the first day he met Sirius Black. Not that Sirius knew. At least, he didn't think so.
Remus was never very good at hiding things from his mates, if the whole "it's cool you're a werewolf" incident in First year and the well-meaning "it's cool you're a pouf" conversation back in Fifth were any indication. And Sirius seemed especially perceptive when it came to his secrets. He'd been the first to suss out Remus' lycanthropy and had been the first to notice that Remus only had eyes for boys (in tight Quidditch britches, but that's neither here nor there). Which was why the fact that Sirius had missed the mooning looks Remus was sure (embarrassed about, but sure) he'd given his friend on more than one occasion, was so perplexing. Convenient for Remus, who didn't want to ruin his friendship with Sirius, but still perplexing. But more perplexing still was the fact that Sirius had started a subtle flirtation with Remus recently. It had been so subtle that Remus wasn't sure when it started up, or even if he was just imagining things. Even the way Sirius slid the flyer from Remus's grip, long fingers squeezing his briefly before taking it and turning to James to consult, was confusing.
Though Remus didn't have too much time to mull over the latest little gesture.
"I don't think we're dressed for the occasion," Peter observed.
Dressed in jeans and plain white t-shirts, they looked Muggle but not Punk. Remus didn't think he could pull off the look, though with his threadbare jeans and greying t-shirt tatty at the edges, he was the only one who came close.
"Maybe we should - " Peter began but never got the chance to finish. Sirius, tossing his hair back and straightening his shoulders, marched into the crowd and was quickly swallowed up. James, only hesitating a few seconds, quickly bounded after him and Peter, unwilling to be left behind, ran to catch up, leaving Remus standing alone on the pavement. It only took until he saw the last of Peter's fat bottom disappearing into the crowd for the commotion to start.
"Fuck," he muttered, the sound of Sirius cursing loud and familiar. He did the only thing - as a Marauder and a friend - that he could: he leapt into the fray.
*
"Oomph!"
"Hold still, Peter!"
"Did you see that?!"
"Yes, James," Remus answered for the fifth time, ignoring James as he gesticulated wildly, "I saw you knock those blokes on their arse - Pete! Hold still!"
Peter was currently wriggling around on the steps of an abandoned cottage on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, the lot of them having Apparated back to safer territory. There was blood still oozing from the wound above his eye and his upper lip was swollen to twice its size. James, on the other hand, was relatively injury-free, save for a quickly blackening eye, a few bloody knuckles and a pair of mangled glasses.
Sirius, meanwhile, had a bloodied face, bloodied knuckles on both hands, and his white tee was spattered with blood. His jeans were torn at both knees from being dragged across the pavement, and streaks of blood along his arms painted his pale skin. Out of all of them, he most looked a wreck. He also still, to Remus' dismay, looked gorgeous as ever. He reminded Remus, in all his macabre glory, of a piece of art.
"Those arsehole Punks have got nothing on the Marauders!" James bellowed.
"Will you quiet down?" Remus hissed, finally turning his attention away from Peter's face. James, eyes wide and almost glassy, looked chagrined. "Sorry," he whispered and went back to recounting his tale, with less shouting but just as much arm-waving, to an oddly calm Sirius.
Remus turned back to Peter, finished healing the cut, then began contemplating the swollen lip.
"Mmmph, mmph."
"I think he wants you to leave it," Sirius piped in.
Peter nodded his head enthusiastically.
"But - "
Peter held up a tooth and Remus understood.
"No offense, Moony, but periodontics really isn't your forte," said Sirius unnecessarily.
"Yes, thanks," he snapped, "I'm aware of that."
His terse tone had the effect of finally shutting James up.
"Mmmph," said Peter.
"I should probably take him back to the castle," James, having sobered up, offered. "We'll take the usual way back," he added, pointing towards the Forbidden Forest. "It'll give us time to come up with a likely story for Pomfrey."
Peter gestured to Sirius' boots, made a punching motion towards his face then hugged himself and began to bounce around.
"You think you should tell her that Sirius accidentally kicked you in the teeth while wrestling?" Remus asked, having sussed out Peter's mime.
"Mmph," Peter grunted, tapping his nose.
They all looked down at Sirius' boots, which were also covered in blood and, oh Merlin, had a tooth embedded in the reinforced toe of the ridiculously expensive shiny dragon hide.
"Hmm," said Sirius in a contemplative tone as he bent over and picked the tooth out of the leather, "wonder who that belongs to?"
"Mmph, mmph," Peter answered, shrugging. Not mine, he gestured. Or, at least, that's what Remus thought he'd said.
Sirius smiled, revealing red-stained teeth. "Probably won't miss it," he said, tossing it over his shoulder. "Well, go on then," he said to James. "Me and Moony will give you a head start."
James shook his head fondly before helping Peter up off the steps and together they disappeared into the Forest towards the Shrieking Shack, leaving Sirius and Remus to sneak back into Hogwarts through Hogsmeade.
Once they were gone, Remus, feeling exhaustion and annoyance creeping in, turned to Sirius and gestured to his face. "We should probably clean you up," he said.
Sirius, who had been quiet, almost serene, since they hightailed it out of Glasgow and back to Hogsmeade, quirked his head to the side, his eyes sweeping over Remus. He held back the shiver of anticipation that threatened to shake loose from him at the way those grey eyes made him feel and stared back, unflinching.
"You could use a good scrubbing yourself, mate."
And there it was, the unmistakable flirtatious tone. Or was it? Remus still wasn't sure, so he did what he was best at - he ignored it. "I don't think I look as bad as you," he said, trying to change the subject.
The smile on Sirius' face became almost feral as he stepped closer and reached up to wipe at Remus' cheek. His fingers came away with dirt and Remus supposed he looked a mess as well, though not bloodied like Sirius. And that was when the annoyance kicked in.
"What the fuck were you thinking?" he blurted.
Sirius dropped his hand and looked him in the eyes. "I just wanted to see the band."
Remus gave him his best sceptical look.
"You had fun, didn't you?" Sirius asked, his voice low and genuinely enquiring.
"What?! No! That wasn't fun!"
It was Sirius' turn to look at him sceptically.
"We got our arses kicked."
"I seem to recall it being the other way around."
"You would."
Sirius' lips quirked and Remus could tell he was fighting a smirk.
"Fine!" he hissed, all too aware that they could be found out there any moment and unwilling to bring attention to their location. "It was… fun." He poked Sirius in the chest. "You are fucking mad, but yeah, it was fun," he admitted grudgingly. "But if you think - "
Sirius' lips were suddenly on his, muffling Remus' words as teeth clashed painfully before Sirius grabbed the back of his head and angled him just so. Remus resisted, in shock, for a few seconds then let all the apprehension go and soon they were battling for dominance of what Remus wasn't even sure could be classified as a kiss. It was more like they were brawling with their mouths, desperate and eager and violent press of lips and tongues. Remus couldn't think as Sirius, lithe body pushed up against him hard and warm, dragged his teeth over his bottom lip, biting with just enough pressure to sting before sucking it soothingly then pulling away.
Remus stood panting, vaguely aware that he was backed against the dilapidated cottage, bits of board digging into his back. He had a feeling he'd lost the battle but he didn't feel defeated in the least. Sirius' breathe ghosted across his face in erratic puffs, his strong hands still fisted in Remus' shaggy hair and Remus imagined he could feel his friend's rapidly beating heart thumping against, and along with, his own. And there was the matter of the growing erection pressed up into his hip. The stabbing splinters were nothing but a distraction to what was pressed up against him.
"Go on then," Sirius breathed, leaning in to speak against his ear.
"Wha- what?" Remus stuttered, all eloquence having left him about the time Sirius licked into his mouth.
"Give it to me."
The argument Remus had in his head came back to him in bits. Something about unnecessary risk and now not being the time to throw caution to the wind and other idioms his parents and the professors at Hogwarts were fond of throwing around. But they meant less than nothing at the moment. Not with Sirius, warm and alive and right there looking at him like nothing else in the world existed but Remus. Remus couldn't help but feel the same.
"Just promise me something," Remus began.
Sirius turned solemn, a little bit of the mischief in his eyes dying away. Remus felt a tiny jolt of regret at seeing it go.
"Next time you decide to pick a fight - "
"I never picked a fight. I just wanted to see the Pistols."
"The Spots."
"Same thing."
Remus nodded, willing to concede the point. It didn't matter anyhow.
"Fine," he went on. "Next time you feel the need to go traipsing in - "
"I didn't traipse," was the calm reply.
Remus sighed. Unlike Sirius, he knew when to pick his battles. Mostly.
"Next time," he tried again, "you want to see the Pistols or the Damned or some other… band, you better make damn sure I'm right beside you."
It took a moment for the words to register, then Sirius grinned, his whole face lighting up like a child on Christmas - and Remus felt the familiar swoop of his stomach. But the equally familiar crash of disappointment didn't follow this time. Instead, he allowed himself to enjoy the feeling. It was, alarmingly, a lot like the feeling he got when he jumped into the crowd in front of The Unicorn. He thought, rather giddily, that he never wanted the feeling to go away and when Sirius leaned in to kiss him again, he met him halfway.
It was a while before they broke apart, chests heaving, sweat damp skin slicking together and groins aching in similarly tattered jeans.
Remus knew he should have minded the time, should have been worried about what would happen next… but right then he didn't care. He was there with Sirius and he had what he'd been wanting for the longest time. Everything else could wait.
Author littlepistols (aka cackling_madly)
Recipient: labelleetlabete
Rating: PG-13
Contents or warnings (highlight to view): *references to music and the UK Punk scene in the 1970's, a teeny bit of gore, boys being boneheaded, fighting, rough kissing, frottage*
Word count: 2744
Summary: Remus couldn't say no to his mates and their latest adventure, especially when Sirius was looking at him like that…
Notes: A huge thanks to the mods, who were infinitely patient with me, as always, and run one of the best fests in this fandom. Also thanks to brighty18 for her lightening-fast beta, sharp eye and encouragement. Any mistakes are my own inability to leave well enough alone.
labelleetlabete, I know you wanted something "filled with the arrogance and invincibility of youth", and I'm not sure I got there but I hope I came close. Hope this works for you:) Happy Holidays!
Though my initial inspiration was that scene in The Perks of Being a Wallflower (you know, that scene, with that song), I owe as much inspiration to The Sex Pistols… and Taylor Swift (strange combination, I know…)
"Well," said James, expectant eyes blinking owlishly through black-rimmed glasses at Remus, "what do you think?"
Remus tried for words, all the while staring down at the crumpled flyer in his hands.
"It's brilliant, isn't it?" Sirius answered for him, wide smile on his face making him look more handsome and enigmatic than usual. Like always, Remus lost the ability to think clearly at the flash of that smile, much less speak.
"I think he's on board," James mock-whispered. Then louder, "Aren't you, mate?"
He eyed Peter, who was looking back at him, obviously leery, hands wringing in what Remus suspected might be an unholy combination of anticipation and anxiety. The uneven letters on the Xeroxed piece of paper spelled out the cause of those feelings:
Right there with you, Pete, he thought, having already privately given in - couldn't say no to Sirius of all people, especially when he was looking at Remus from half-lidded eyes, a flirtatious smile on his face. He sighed and nodded slowly, but James and Sirius' whoops of delight began ringing out and echoing around their dorm room before he'd finished the first tilt of his head.
He saw Peter gulp before the upturned corners of his lips gave him away.
Exactly how you feel, Remus thought as he dropped The Daily Prophet he'd been reading on the floor, ominous two-column article on the possibility of war instantly forgotten. He grabbed his cloak and wand.
*
Remus could think of nothing worse. Disappearing for the night, absconding to a shady part of Glasgow (and for Glasgow, that was saying something) to see a band they'd never heard of, when James and Sirius both were supposed to be in detention with Professor McGonagall all evening. The fake owl from James' mum had to be the most ill conceived plan James and Sirius had ever come up with. Even Peter, who'd once tried to pass off an illegible scribble on a jelly-stained bit of parchment as his dad's, agreed. Yet, Remus found himself hurrying along behind them down the tunnel to Hogsmeade, excited at the prospect of loud music in a dive bar, cheap Muggle beer, and freedom. The prospect of what the looks Sirius had been giving him lately might mean were only a bonus.
He couldn't wait to get there.
*
The Unicorn was nestled in between two boarded up storefronts on a badly lit street just outside of Glasgow proper. There was no sign outside but the milling about of safety-pinned ruffians in tartan drainpipe trousers and multi-coloured Mohawks gave its location away. Though "milling" was perhaps the wrong word, Remus thought, as they approached the doors of the club. "Roughhousing" might have been a better one. Well, had there been less blood.
"Oi, what do you think's going on there?" Peter asked, sounding wary.
James stopped short of walking into their chubby friend and craned his neck to get a good look at the small mob. "Just lads having a bit of a good time, I suspect," he said, elbowing Sirius beside him. Sirius smirked, looking almost giddy at the scene before them and Remus tried to refrain from rolling his eyes. Despite the perfect shiny, dark hair, good looks and impeccable grooming, this really was Sirius' scene.
Sirius loved Muggle music, had since hearing the first strains of "Imagine" coming from the girls' dormitories back in first year. That was also, incidentally, when they learned that boys weren't allowed, by mandate and magic, to go anywhere near the girls' rooms without alerting the staff and bringing the wrath of McGonagall with it. It also earned the Marauders their first group detention. Sirius had evolved from the Beatles and Zeppelin to the likes of Richard Hell and Johnny Rotten and his lot. It was the lure of the possibility that The Spots were indeed the Sex Pistols in disguise that had Sirius bounding all over Hogwarts in excitement the day before, roping James in easily and strong-arming Remus into going along with their foolhardy plan (and Peter, of course, came easier after that). Remus liked the Sex Pistols well enough, though truth be told, he could just as easily listen to Nick Drake or Joni Mitchell (and no, he wasn't secretly a girl, no matter what his mates said). But Sirius loved them. He loved the raw energy, the chaos and life of the music, though he'd never said it in those words. Possibly, Remus had read more into it, and Sirius just loved the idea of destroying everything. On second thought, it was probably that.
Sirius made friends with the Muggleborns in their dorm who had a record player and the great fortune of having older siblings who would send them the latest albums throughout the year. Over the years, he managed, through charm and trickery, to get his hands on quite a few LPs and had himself an eclectic collection. He played them all on Remus' old battered Bush, not minding the one tinny speaker. Remus figured he fell in love with Sirius while watching him listen to a record in their dorm sometime in Fifth, though in truth he'd probably starting falling the first day he met Sirius Black. Not that Sirius knew. At least, he didn't think so.
Remus was never very good at hiding things from his mates, if the whole "it's cool you're a werewolf" incident in First year and the well-meaning "it's cool you're a pouf" conversation back in Fifth were any indication. And Sirius seemed especially perceptive when it came to his secrets. He'd been the first to suss out Remus' lycanthropy and had been the first to notice that Remus only had eyes for boys (in tight Quidditch britches, but that's neither here nor there). Which was why the fact that Sirius had missed the mooning looks Remus was sure (embarrassed about, but sure) he'd given his friend on more than one occasion, was so perplexing. Convenient for Remus, who didn't want to ruin his friendship with Sirius, but still perplexing. But more perplexing still was the fact that Sirius had started a subtle flirtation with Remus recently. It had been so subtle that Remus wasn't sure when it started up, or even if he was just imagining things. Even the way Sirius slid the flyer from Remus's grip, long fingers squeezing his briefly before taking it and turning to James to consult, was confusing.
Though Remus didn't have too much time to mull over the latest little gesture.
"I don't think we're dressed for the occasion," Peter observed.
Dressed in jeans and plain white t-shirts, they looked Muggle but not Punk. Remus didn't think he could pull off the look, though with his threadbare jeans and greying t-shirt tatty at the edges, he was the only one who came close.
"Maybe we should - " Peter began but never got the chance to finish. Sirius, tossing his hair back and straightening his shoulders, marched into the crowd and was quickly swallowed up. James, only hesitating a few seconds, quickly bounded after him and Peter, unwilling to be left behind, ran to catch up, leaving Remus standing alone on the pavement. It only took until he saw the last of Peter's fat bottom disappearing into the crowd for the commotion to start.
"Fuck," he muttered, the sound of Sirius cursing loud and familiar. He did the only thing - as a Marauder and a friend - that he could: he leapt into the fray.
*
"Oomph!"
"Hold still, Peter!"
"Did you see that?!"
"Yes, James," Remus answered for the fifth time, ignoring James as he gesticulated wildly, "I saw you knock those blokes on their arse - Pete! Hold still!"
Peter was currently wriggling around on the steps of an abandoned cottage on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, the lot of them having Apparated back to safer territory. There was blood still oozing from the wound above his eye and his upper lip was swollen to twice its size. James, on the other hand, was relatively injury-free, save for a quickly blackening eye, a few bloody knuckles and a pair of mangled glasses.
Sirius, meanwhile, had a bloodied face, bloodied knuckles on both hands, and his white tee was spattered with blood. His jeans were torn at both knees from being dragged across the pavement, and streaks of blood along his arms painted his pale skin. Out of all of them, he most looked a wreck. He also still, to Remus' dismay, looked gorgeous as ever. He reminded Remus, in all his macabre glory, of a piece of art.
"Those arsehole Punks have got nothing on the Marauders!" James bellowed.
"Will you quiet down?" Remus hissed, finally turning his attention away from Peter's face. James, eyes wide and almost glassy, looked chagrined. "Sorry," he whispered and went back to recounting his tale, with less shouting but just as much arm-waving, to an oddly calm Sirius.
Remus turned back to Peter, finished healing the cut, then began contemplating the swollen lip.
"Mmmph, mmph."
"I think he wants you to leave it," Sirius piped in.
Peter nodded his head enthusiastically.
"But - "
Peter held up a tooth and Remus understood.
"No offense, Moony, but periodontics really isn't your forte," said Sirius unnecessarily.
"Yes, thanks," he snapped, "I'm aware of that."
His terse tone had the effect of finally shutting James up.
"Mmmph," said Peter.
"I should probably take him back to the castle," James, having sobered up, offered. "We'll take the usual way back," he added, pointing towards the Forbidden Forest. "It'll give us time to come up with a likely story for Pomfrey."
Peter gestured to Sirius' boots, made a punching motion towards his face then hugged himself and began to bounce around.
"You think you should tell her that Sirius accidentally kicked you in the teeth while wrestling?" Remus asked, having sussed out Peter's mime.
"Mmph," Peter grunted, tapping his nose.
They all looked down at Sirius' boots, which were also covered in blood and, oh Merlin, had a tooth embedded in the reinforced toe of the ridiculously expensive shiny dragon hide.
"Hmm," said Sirius in a contemplative tone as he bent over and picked the tooth out of the leather, "wonder who that belongs to?"
"Mmph, mmph," Peter answered, shrugging. Not mine, he gestured. Or, at least, that's what Remus thought he'd said.
Sirius smiled, revealing red-stained teeth. "Probably won't miss it," he said, tossing it over his shoulder. "Well, go on then," he said to James. "Me and Moony will give you a head start."
James shook his head fondly before helping Peter up off the steps and together they disappeared into the Forest towards the Shrieking Shack, leaving Sirius and Remus to sneak back into Hogwarts through Hogsmeade.
Once they were gone, Remus, feeling exhaustion and annoyance creeping in, turned to Sirius and gestured to his face. "We should probably clean you up," he said.
Sirius, who had been quiet, almost serene, since they hightailed it out of Glasgow and back to Hogsmeade, quirked his head to the side, his eyes sweeping over Remus. He held back the shiver of anticipation that threatened to shake loose from him at the way those grey eyes made him feel and stared back, unflinching.
"You could use a good scrubbing yourself, mate."
And there it was, the unmistakable flirtatious tone. Or was it? Remus still wasn't sure, so he did what he was best at - he ignored it. "I don't think I look as bad as you," he said, trying to change the subject.
The smile on Sirius' face became almost feral as he stepped closer and reached up to wipe at Remus' cheek. His fingers came away with dirt and Remus supposed he looked a mess as well, though not bloodied like Sirius. And that was when the annoyance kicked in.
"What the fuck were you thinking?" he blurted.
Sirius dropped his hand and looked him in the eyes. "I just wanted to see the band."
Remus gave him his best sceptical look.
"You had fun, didn't you?" Sirius asked, his voice low and genuinely enquiring.
"What?! No! That wasn't fun!"
It was Sirius' turn to look at him sceptically.
"We got our arses kicked."
"I seem to recall it being the other way around."
"You would."
Sirius' lips quirked and Remus could tell he was fighting a smirk.
"Fine!" he hissed, all too aware that they could be found out there any moment and unwilling to bring attention to their location. "It was… fun." He poked Sirius in the chest. "You are fucking mad, but yeah, it was fun," he admitted grudgingly. "But if you think - "
Sirius' lips were suddenly on his, muffling Remus' words as teeth clashed painfully before Sirius grabbed the back of his head and angled him just so. Remus resisted, in shock, for a few seconds then let all the apprehension go and soon they were battling for dominance of what Remus wasn't even sure could be classified as a kiss. It was more like they were brawling with their mouths, desperate and eager and violent press of lips and tongues. Remus couldn't think as Sirius, lithe body pushed up against him hard and warm, dragged his teeth over his bottom lip, biting with just enough pressure to sting before sucking it soothingly then pulling away.
Remus stood panting, vaguely aware that he was backed against the dilapidated cottage, bits of board digging into his back. He had a feeling he'd lost the battle but he didn't feel defeated in the least. Sirius' breathe ghosted across his face in erratic puffs, his strong hands still fisted in Remus' shaggy hair and Remus imagined he could feel his friend's rapidly beating heart thumping against, and along with, his own. And there was the matter of the growing erection pressed up into his hip. The stabbing splinters were nothing but a distraction to what was pressed up against him.
"Go on then," Sirius breathed, leaning in to speak against his ear.
"Wha- what?" Remus stuttered, all eloquence having left him about the time Sirius licked into his mouth.
"Give it to me."
The argument Remus had in his head came back to him in bits. Something about unnecessary risk and now not being the time to throw caution to the wind and other idioms his parents and the professors at Hogwarts were fond of throwing around. But they meant less than nothing at the moment. Not with Sirius, warm and alive and right there looking at him like nothing else in the world existed but Remus. Remus couldn't help but feel the same.
"Just promise me something," Remus began.
Sirius turned solemn, a little bit of the mischief in his eyes dying away. Remus felt a tiny jolt of regret at seeing it go.
"Next time you decide to pick a fight - "
"I never picked a fight. I just wanted to see the Pistols."
"The Spots."
"Same thing."
Remus nodded, willing to concede the point. It didn't matter anyhow.
"Fine," he went on. "Next time you feel the need to go traipsing in - "
"I didn't traipse," was the calm reply.
Remus sighed. Unlike Sirius, he knew when to pick his battles. Mostly.
"Next time," he tried again, "you want to see the Pistols or the Damned or some other… band, you better make damn sure I'm right beside you."
It took a moment for the words to register, then Sirius grinned, his whole face lighting up like a child on Christmas - and Remus felt the familiar swoop of his stomach. But the equally familiar crash of disappointment didn't follow this time. Instead, he allowed himself to enjoy the feeling. It was, alarmingly, a lot like the feeling he got when he jumped into the crowd in front of The Unicorn. He thought, rather giddily, that he never wanted the feeling to go away and when Sirius leaned in to kiss him again, he met him halfway.
It was a while before they broke apart, chests heaving, sweat damp skin slicking together and groins aching in similarly tattered jeans.
Remus knew he should have minded the time, should have been worried about what would happen next… but right then he didn't care. He was there with Sirius and he had what he'd been wanting for the longest time. Everything else could wait.