The Date
I got a bit carried away with this haha. Oh well. Hope you all enjoy this!
~
He’s curled up on the couch, the blanket pulled over his legs. He’s got his book propped up against his knee, his head resting across the back of the sofa, the fire crackling in the grate. It had taken him 2 hours to settle into this position, 2 bloody hours, and Remus lets out a content sigh as he turns the page.
He can hear thumping coming from above, the sound of trunks being slammed shut and items being heaped onto the floor but Remus ignores it. Living with James and Peter and Sirius had enabled him to master the ability of tuning out noises, the constant explosions and curse words and the sound of items being hurled across the room. Remus smiles as he nestled deeper into the blankets, wishing he had a bar of chocolate to nibble on as he scanned the page in front of him.
He’s almost finished the book when he hears the shouting coming from the top of the stairwell. “Re?”
Remus rolls his eyes, not bothering to look up from his book. “No.”
He can practically hear the sigh that Sirius lets out. “Please?”
“No.” Remus turns the page. “I’m reading.”
“What. Smut?”
Remus shrugs. “Who knows? I’m expanding my repertoire.”
“Re - “
“Shhh!” Remus says. “They’re about to start making out.”
He holds back a laugh as Sirius sighs. The silence stretches on, Remus smirking as he finished the chapter he was on. He’s about to turn the page when Sirius calls out again. “Remus? Please? Can you help me?”
Remus groans. “What do you want?”
“Just…help.”
With a growl, Remus yanks the blankets off. He closes his book, aiming a kick at the couch leg as he stormed up the stairs. “It took me two bloody hours to find that position,” he mutters, kicking the wall on his way up. “2 bloody hours. Do you know how hard it is to find that perfect reading spot - “
He stops dead at the doorway. “Sirius. What the hell?”
It’s as if something had exploded, clothes strewn everywhere. Stacks of them, on the floor and on the beds, hanging down from the silk curtains and on the door frames, coats and shirts and pants. Lying in the middle of the mess is Sirius, methodically flinging various bits of clothing over his shoulder. “Goddamnit!”
Remus sighs. “What the hell is wrong now?”
Sirius gestures towards the clock. “What time is it?”
“You dragged me all the way up here just to read the clock?” Remus shakes his head. “I can’t even read it. Seeing as a pair of very interestingly colored boxers are currently lying on top of it.”
Sirius scowls, yanking the orange shorts off the top of the clock. “Oh shit. It’s 5. The date is at 7.”
“Two hours.” Remus starts to sit on the floor but thinks better of it. He leans against the wall, crossing his feet at the ankles. “You have two hours, Sirius. It’s fine. Relax.”
“2 hours to get ready? I don’t even know what I’m going to wear!” Sirius flips backwards, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m doomed, Remus! Utterly and completely doomed! What do I wear for dinner tonight?”
“You picked the restaurant,” Remus reminds him. Sirius flips him off. “Shut up Re! I have a reputation to uphold!”
“Your reputation disintegrated the moment you walked around wearing Marlene’s bra,” Remus tells him. He sighs. “All right. Show me your ideas and I’ll pick the best one.”
Sirius sits bolt upright. “A fashion show?”
“For the love of….” Remus mutters. “Sure. Whatever. Hurry up.”
Sirius clears Remus’ bed of all the clothing piled on top of it, and Remus sits down. He stretches his legs out, pulling the curtain down so that he couldn’t see Sirius. “Whenever you’re ready.”
He can just barely see the Sirius’ shadow, hopping around the room pulling various garments on. Remus rolls his eyes, crossing his legs underneath him. Sirius and his dramatics, he thinks and a smile forces it’s way into his lips.
“Okay, option number one….” Sirius trails off as he pulls the curtain back. “Yes?”
“Do you want me to be completely honest?” Remus asks him. Sirius nods. “Then no. Definitely not. You look like a bloody vampire.”
Sirius is wearing dress robes, made out of some sort of charcoal grey fabric. It drapes off of him, folding and pleating, the light seeming to make the fabric shine. In all honesty, he looked pretty bloody beautiful, but Remus wasn’t about to let him go for dinner wearing robes. “No. Next.”
Sirius sticks his tongue out at Remus, pulling the curtains shut.
When he shows Remus the next outfit, Remus sighs. Sirius had put on a muggle suit, harsh lines of black and white, his hair brushing his shoulders. The blazer made him seem taller almost, his shoulders wider and his legs longer, aging him up by 5 years. He looked imposing and mature and definitely not a 16 year old boy. Remus shakes his head. “God, it’s a bloody Japanese restaurant, Sirius! You’re not going to a ball!”
Sirius sighs, but goes back out to change.
“Are you stealing clothes from Marlene?” Remus throws his hands in the air. “No!”
“I like it,” Sirius says, looking down at himself. “I think it’s bold.”
Remus glares at him. “No.”
Never mind the fact that Sirius filled out the top really well. Never mind the little flutter in Remus’ chest when he saw that strip of skin above his waist, the way his mouth went dry as he rolled his eyes. Sirius Black was not allowed to go out wearing a leopard-spotted crop top. “You have to be kidding me.”
Sirius frowns. “I like it!”
At the look on Remus’ face, he grumbles, yanking the top off and hurling it on the ground.
The hour passes. Remus vetoes golden disco pants, a navy blue tank top, a grungy sweatshirt and a pair of booty shorts that were so tight Remus thought that it probably would have been better if Sirius was naked. He groans, banging his head against the wall as Sirius comes out wearing fishnet stockings and a dress so short that it could only belong to Marlene. “No! For God’s sakes, Sirius, I thought you had good fashion sense!”
Sirius looks down at himself. “I like this!”
“Rubbish,” Remus tells him. “You just wore that to annoy me.”
Sirius flashes him a wicked grin. “Fine. You dress me then.”
Remus rolls his eyes, getting to his feet. He stretches, the muscles in his back popping as he kicked aside a pair of boots that Sirius had left on the floor. “Fine. Maybe that’ll knock some sense into your thick head.”
He sorts through the piles of clothing all over the floor, finally managing to procure a plain white shirt. There’s a crumpled heap of jeans that he grabs as well, adds some red converse to the collection in his hand. He has to stand on his tiptoes to reach the leather jacket on the doorframe as he tosses the bunch at Sirius. “There. Wear this.”
Sirius frowns. “This is what I always wear though.”
“Exactly.” Remus folds his arms. “Stop pretending to be someone you’re not. Put it on.”
When he opens his eyes, Sirius had just finished shrugging on the jacket. There’s something beautiful about this last outfit, something defiant and powerful, something that had Sirius written in every stitch of fabric. Remus lets himself stare, at the way Sirius’ shoulders filled out the leather, at the way the jeans hugged his legs and how the white shirt rode up just slightly. He can see his scars, dark streaks pressed against the thin cotton, can see them crawling up kid neck and around his side, where they were hidden by the jacket.
Sirius clears his throat. He’s blushing, slightly, and Remus realizes that he’s been staring for far too long. He looks down, cheeks burning as Sirius bites his lip. “Yes?”
“Definitely yes.” Remus cocks his head. “Actually, wait . Tie up your hair.”
Sirius nods. He reaches up, scooping up the dark mess in one hand then pauses. “Actually, can you….can you tie it for me?”
Remus swallows, past the lump in his throat. “Of course.” He accepts the hair tie from Sirius, reaches up to tangle his hands through Sirius’ hair. He lets the locks wrap around his wrist, lets his fingers trail through the knots as he twists the strands into a bun. He coughs, trying to stay casual, trying not to burst into flames. “So. Excited for the date?”
“Yeah.” Sirius seems slightly subdued as he picks at his nail. “Can’t wait.”
“How many is that now?” Remus yanks the hair tie over the bun, steps away quickly. It was like a fire under his skin, one that flared up whenever he touched Sirius. He shoves his hands into his pocket.
Sirius just laughs. “5th one now? I don’t know.” He looks down. “They don’t seem to work out, do they?”
Remus forces a smile onto his lips. “You’ll find someone.” I wish it was me.
Sirius holds his gaze. “Maybe someday.” He coughs. “Um….do you mind?” He holds his wand out to Remus.
It takes a second for the request to click in, Remus blinking. “Uh….” He nods. “Yeah.”
“Thanks.” Sirius shucks off the jacket, pulling his shirt over his head. “I just don’t want….you know. Then to see my scars.” He forces a laugh. “I don’t want them to think….I don’t know. Less of me I guess?”
“I get it.” Remus traces the tip of the wand over the largest scar, the skin around it appearing to ripple and cover the mark. “You don’t want them to judge you. To think you’re damaged.”
Sirius lets out a shaking breath. “Exactly.”
I wouldn’t, Remus thinks. I wouldn’t think you were damaged.
The scars told a story. A tapestry, carved into Sirius’ skin, a tale of blood and tears, of hiding and rubbing and fighting, of shielding a brother from a mother’s rage. How could Sirius ever explain that to anyone, the history of what was torn into his flesh? How could he explain the marks?
He wouldn’t have to hide them with Remus. Remus knew every scar, like the back of his own hand, could trace each one of them with a finger. Sirius would never have to hide. Not with Remus.
The skin ripples over, the marks completely hidden, and Remus lets out a breath. “Okay.” He goes to pull away, but Sirius grabs his hand.
It’s dizzying, the bed swaying underneath him,, and dimly Remus wonders if Sirius can tell. He stares into Sirius’ eyes, the cool grey of them, the way it shifted into different colors around the edges. He could stare into Sirius’ eyes for hours.
He’s aware of Sirius’ hand around his wrist, shivers going up and down his arm. “Sirius?”
“Thanks.” Sirius looks down. “You know. For everything.”
Remus shrugs. “It was nothing.”
“No, I - “ Sirius sighs. “Thanks. Am I….am I good now?”
Remus steps back. “Yes. No. Wait.” He reaches up, teases a few strands of hair from Sirius’ bun, the soft locks framing his face. He swallows, his heart pounding in his chest. “Yeah. You’re good.”
Sirius smiles, each breath sending pangs through Remus’ chest. “Re, I….”
He breaks off, notching the clock. “Shit! It’s 6:30! I have to go!”
He jumps up, yanking his jacket from underneath him. “Thanks Re!” he calls, over his shoulder, sprinting out the door in a blur of grey.
Remus stares down at his hands.
What did you expect, he thinks. That this is a fairy tale? That you’ll get a happy ending? He scoffs. Grow up. Who could ever love a monster like you?
Alone in the room, Remus lets his head drop into his hands, the tears starting to flow.
Fuck!!! I had thought this would have a happy ending!!! My heart is shattered now! 💔💔💔
I WAS TEARING UP EVEN BEFORE THE END, I NEED A SEQUEL
ASH!! What the hell? I know you’re the Queen of Angst, but holy crap, you killed me with this!
I Need More!!