A/N: I'm just going to drop this here, bye

ps. pls don't hate me

Disclaimer: I get no moneys

Beta: no :-(

Day 6, Sunday: Do you like raspberries?

at Tesco, back in 30

Remus

Quite satisfied with the alarmingly informative note, Remus left the piece of paper with his hasty scribbling on the kitchen table, walked swiftly by the bed in which Sirius was still sleeping his very plausible hangover away, and smiled silently at the sight. Once his father had also told him that staring at innocent people and grinning mindlessly at them was more than something someone might have called extremely creepy, but Remus was positive that this particular occasion had no trustworthy witnesses. If anyone would point out that the way he kept nervously touching his neck while downright gawping at Sirius' bare torso was questionable, Remus would say that he had a medical condition and for any further questions he would ask for a lawyer whose only real duty would be to state that the so-called medical condition spelled out as 'horny as hell'.

Remus had woken up quite early-ish that morning and even though he was to have quite a lot of things to do regarding his brother's visit that day, it was necessary to mention that he hadn't known where to start his day, at all. It wasn't an uncommon state of mind for him for he often got distracted by different things, such as pretty dogs, vintage movie posters, or a... half-nude gentleman merely 2 meters from him, so nothing new there.

Yet, he still was confused enough not to know how to continue his typical Sunday morning routine; this had resulted in him walking around the flat like he hadn't the faintest of idea where, why or who he was, while his eyes occasionally wandered to the King bed, occasionally meaning that he had walked into a wall. He was sure to bruise. The crapulent man had often groaned something under his breath and Remus had been bemused enough to accidentally wash his hair with shaving cream.

Twice.

It was surely making concentrating on things awfully difficult for Remus, the way Sirius' drunken words were sneakily playing in his head, on a loop, they did not stop for a second. And how about the thought of Sirius' fingers on him? ...Yes, Remus was in trouble. Sirius was warm, Sirius felt nice. Remus liked things that were warm and nice, and maybe Remus preferred to be in trouble, so all in all –

"...Remus?"

"Yes!" Remus snapped out of it and back into reality, hoping that he had not just stood there with his keys in his hand, staring at the man on the bed like an unstoppable moron, but of course that was the case. Sirius' open hair was sprawled on his pillow and his voice made Remus think of sawdust and tobacco leaves and sweaty sex.

Sirius had one eye open and the suspicious bloodshot look was directed straight at Remus. "You going somewhere?"

"To the shop!" replied Remus, way too fast and way too loud to make Sirius' pained brain happy, or so it seemed. Feeling quite flustered, Remus was now pointing at the kitchen, at the flat door, at something on his right – no, that was a wall. Exhaling in order to calm himself down he then tilted his head at the pitiable sight on the bed and added, "I'm going to get some onions. Do you want anything?"

"...Sunglasses."

Remus watched Sirius slowly close his eyes. "Sunglasses?"

"On the top drawer," was Sirius' coarse reply while he pointed at the bureau behind Remus. "...If you'd be so kind."

[Sent at 10.45pm] :) (y)

[Received at 10.46pm] what happened what did you do?

[Sent at 10.46pm] I tell you tomorrow

[Received at 10.47pm] ok. dont do anything stupid now

[Sent at 10.47pm] Im not you.

[Received at 10.48pm] which means you ARE stupid

"So you like living here?" Remus asked as he was stepping down the stairs with Sirius' next door neighbour, Gabrielle. The woman had started chattering to him in French as soon as they had, conveniently enough, exited their respective apartments at the same time, and although Remus would have loved to listen to her speak the language, he had to stop her and tell her that he didn't actually know what she was saying all that well, if... at all, to be honest. Actually his skills on the front were equally as extensive as Sirius'. "Do you like your neighbours?"

Gabrielle nodded at him with a smile and an unhurried "Oui." Her silver blond hair was popping against her back as she hopped down the stairs right next to Remus. She was wearing a white pouf summer dress with watermelon-coloured swirls and somehow the scent of her perfume reminded Remus of those colours as well. It was hard for Remus to imagine this small woman being able to knock Sirius literally off his feet. "Sometime Madame Podmore est bother, but other things, oui. Is you happy?" Gabrielle asked him in return.

"Yes, I suppose I am," Remus replied as he kept the front door of the building open to her. Instantly he regretted not wearing shorts since the hot air from outside hit him like a wall in the face and Remus? He had never enjoyed overly warm weather. He wanted it to rain so he would have a proper excuse to wear a jumper and stay inside, but no, and now he felt how his jeans glued to his skin and he had only been outside for like 10 seconds. He adjusted his glasses on his nose. "I like the building, it's quiet and Sirius' apartment is gorgeous. It's been easy to adjust to everything. Thanks."

"Sirius... yes." Gabrielle mused while watching Remus in the eye as she stood in front of him, not exactly looking like she was about to go somewhere. The contrast between her fair skin tone and her pink lip gloss was mesmerising, especially when she spoke. She lowered her gaze to her hands that were idly holding a canvas bag. "You aimer? Sirius? You really like?"

"Do I like him?" Remus asked, and reflexively bit into his lower lip as though to keep himself from grinning too widely at the question. "Um, yes. He is very –" and then he spent all too long trying to come up with the perfect way to end that sentence, for Sirius was so many wonderful things, but of course the only thing Remus was able to think about was the man's tousled hair on his lap or the way Sirius' hot breath on his leg was giving him shivers through all that clothing, but no way was he going to say that to Gabrielle, no way. No way was he going to mention the woman that he had not exactly slept at all the previous night because Sirius had been so close and so safe and –

"Many times drunk, yes?" the woman decided to help with a grin.

Remus let out a relieved chuckle. "...Among other things."

Gabrielle smiled at him silently and just as Remus had started to think she was silently judging him (this is where his mind went immediately), she grabbed him by his shirt front, pulled him down and gave him a kiss on the mouth, after which she spoke closely to his surprised face. "I live here three years and he live here before, then I know Sirius this long," she told Remus, who nodded at her, not exactly knowing how to react otherwise. What was it with women wanting to taste like various fruits? "He is..." she started off as though wanting to say something super meaningful but then she just smiled and absolutely piercingly stared at Remus in the eye. "Good man. Do not hurt him." That last bit? Very French and very glacial and thank heavens she was not touching Remus anymore.

Remus hadn't the chance to say anything to her for she was already walking away from him. Which was good. He was sort of scared.

"You know that feeling when a cute bloke smiles at you and your heart sort of goes like a butter bit sliding down a hot toast?" Sirius asked, cocking his head towards Lily in the rhythm of his words that were as rhythmic as a three-legged baby giraffe trying to tango to Schubert.

Time for an explanatory narration before a not-so-evident and unnecessary yet upcoming flashback:

Lily had met Sirius at the age of 18ish as she had just somehow happened to enrol in the same art program in London as he did. Coincidence? Someone, for example the incarnation of moroseness that was our very own leading lady Sirius Black the third, might call it nothing special while someone else would go all jazz-hands about it and say it was DESTINY written with huge bubbly letters. Lily was often theatrically vivid about many things, and the first time Sirius had been present to witness her spasms differed none from the rest he was to see later in his life. Her reaction to his zoo episode had been quite the work of art, mimicking Dalí Atomicus while being slightly more action oriented.

Although initially finding her blatantly confrontational and crisis-solving personality rather troublesome and just plain too meddling for his liking, Sirius had found himself spending an astonishing amount of time with the girl, and not just because she didn't leave him alone. Surely he had appreciated her unpretentious and rather classic artistic viewpoints from the moment they had had a proper chat, but after a while he had started actually tolerating her more and more, more and more meaning that he wasn't trying to murder her anymore. Older Sirius often mused how Lily was the Raffaëlli to his Kandinsky, and James, always so skilfully clueless during the conversations with his wife and his best friend, usually merely commented that they were nothing but a couple of art nerds and annoying at that. Neither of them argued with him about this.

"Know what I mean?" young Sirius resumed asking the girl, who hadn't exactly answered his earlier nice ponderings about nice smiles on nice-looking blokes.

"Like yours?" asked Lily in return, not at all subtly. Subtlety wasn't exactly her strong point, but like that slowed her down. Strolling along a random corridor at one of their university buildings it really did seem it slowed her down but that was merely because Sirius had long legs. She did not.

Sirius grinned a bit. "...Sorry?"

"You are aware that I fancy you, right?" Lily asked him, her paint-stained fingers playing with the strap of her bag as she walked beside him. Dumbfounded, the boy stopped striding, stood dead on his feet and the girl's eyes were nailed on his positively nonplussed face. "I mean, don't worry, I didn't fancy you at first," Lily continued nonchalantly. "Actually I loathed you, because you don't care about anything and you are extremely arrogant and obnoxious and more aloof than it's normal for a person of our age. You're the kind of a guy who can get anything you want but you don't give a shit, and quite honestly that's upsetting the hell out of me."

"Wait, why are you insulting me?" Sirius asked while struggling to hold his latest finished humongous piece of art under his arm, but as he also had his satchel and a collection of painting instruments to carry, the whole scene was just sad. "Did I do something?" he added, shaking his head at Lily. "I don't know if I should apologise or –"

"Didn't you hear me?" Lily sighed, cutting him off. "I said I fancy –"

"Yes," Sirius now interrupted hastily, grimacing a bit as the heavy painting fell on his foot. "That, I did. Certainly. But..." He seemed to be scanning their surroundings as though to find some sort of an explanation for the nonsense Lily was sprouting at him. There was none, of course, only the girl in front of him, waiting to hear something more intelligent as a reply. Sirius blinked at her. "Could you maybe elaborate a bit?"

The girl watched Sirius to strive with the load in his arms. Lily, too, was carrying a varying assortment of painting gear with her, but somehow she was doing a much better job at it than Sirius. After all she was a self-certified professional multitasker. "How stupid are you? I fancy you."

Sirius snorted. "And I'm obnoxious?"

"Yes," Lily admitted with a tiny nod. "But you're also passionate and you have glasses and you are very, very handsome –"

"And very, very gay," Sirius told her without blinking an eye, after which he managed to tap his fake glasses with his right index and middle fingers. "Plus, these are not real."

Seemingly deflating in front of him like a pierced balloon, Lily asked, "Sorry?"

"I don't need glasses," the boy said again, trying to hoist the painting under his arm, but since he had other things to concentrate on, after a few attempts he just let the painting rest on his boot. He squinted at the girl. "I heard this one babe in ceramics has a fetish, so I decided to try reeling him in."

However, evidently Lily was not interested in his seducing tactics for she waved a hand at him. "Wait. What do you mean you're gay?"

"I mean I love rainbows and glitter and I want to give you a makeover." Sirius inclined his head jestingly at Lily's following expression. "Haven't you seen how I walk? My extremely gay strut?"

"Sirius, you're sauntering idly by like you have shit in your pants," Lily corrected and got an approving nod form the boy. "Anyway, please take this seriously," she went on, an offended glimmer of something in her eyes while standing sort of awfully awkward in front of Sirius. She was tiny compared to his involuntarily lengthy stature. He was tall and she was not and none of this truly mattered. Lily often had neck cramps. "You never told me you were gay."

Sirius shrugged. "Didn't think it was something that needed to be told."

"You've... been with a man, then?" Lily asked, completely stunned by the revelation. Sirius merely offered her an almost apologetic smile but didn't exactly say anything to confirm her assumption turned to a question or whatever it was. "And you liked it?" she continued. "You like cock?"

It was a perfectly normal conversation to have in the middle of a narrow hallway while people were trying to get past them – seriously, no one really cared anymore. Everyone and their mothers knew that Sirius' daily vocabulary included the aforementioned cock, and ...okay, now Lily was starting to understand why the guy had never even accidentally tried to fondle her tits. "Among other things, yes," Sirius then said, kind of perplexed because the girl was suddenly so close and so pretty and she smelled sickeningly sweet with vanilla. He glanced at her unintentionally oil-painted fingers on his chest, whenever they had wandered there, and Lily watched him back, her cheeks faintly red from probable discomfiture, or perhaps because she was now imagining Sirius with some bloke. ...Yes, it was probably the latter. "Sorry, Lil."

Lily took a step back, leaving Sirius' personal bubble alone, and for once in her life she was speechless. A rare moment Sirius found himself enjoying immensely.

For a second or two Sirius waited Lily to say something, but in the end she didn't and just left him there to stand alone like an idiot, resulting Sirius to dash after her while groaning god-damn-itsandbollocks under his breath as he tried to carry all his shit with him in an elegant manner. He failed, but caught up with the girl. "So hi, er, basically you fancy a bloke who's scary tall, listens to your random whining and has a bad eyesight, am I correct?"

Lily wouldn't look at him. Someone might have noted that her complexion was almost as red as her hair, but her hair was orange and she did not look like a carrot. "Who doesn't?"

"Touché," Sirius admitted. "Now, see, I happen to have this mate, who's –"

"Don't pimp me out to your bizarre friends," Lily said solemnly, quickly glancing at Sirius. "I can find a man by myself, cheers."

"You found one and he is the gayest dude alive," Sirius said and laughed warmly but did not get the desired reaction from the girl. So, he stepped in front of Lily, forcing her to stop walking and look at him. "Listen, I'm not trying to Blind Date you here," Sirius cleared, inclining his head just so he could get a glimpse of her winged, bright green eyes. "I just think that you and James might... I don't know, get along."

Now sparing her friend a glance, Lily hesitated a bit. "...James?"

According to Sirius' fairly inebriated wedding toast three years later, Lily had told Sirius after her and James' first date that she absolutely could not stand the fellow for another minute whereas James had been completely smitten with her and had subsequently spent quite a few sleepless nights writing ill-rhyming rap songs and C++ poems about her vibrant hair colour. The first thing James had said to Sirius after Harry was born was that the child was never to know about Sirius being his mother's first choice of men, because that was borderline idiotic, embarrassing to the father, and probably not even true. To Remus Sirius had told that James had simply just been jealous, because honestly now.

"This way, Harry. Give Mummy your hand."

For some reason deeply ruminating on the story of how Sirius had met Harry's mother and thus actually connecting the flashback to the present day (woah!), Remus stepped on a sidewalk outside the Tesco he had been to, carrying his newly purchased precious onions in a sheer plastic bag. His t-shirt was sticking to his back like cat hair to fresh lip balm and he absolutely hated the feeling, thus he was trying to figure out the fastest route back to the apartment in order to take another shower. That had to wait, however, for the story mandates that he saw a tiny red-headed woman heading to a zebra crossing with Harry, and against his nature, Remus quickly walked up to them before they could escape his comfort zone. He cautiously tapped the woman on the shoulder. "Er, excuse me?"

The woman turned around, a slightly confused frown on her face. "Yes?"

Of course Harry beamed at Remus like the crazy little ray of sunshine he was. "Moony!"

"Hi, Harry." Remus nodded at the boy and then turned his eyes back on the woman, who was now positively eyeballing him from his somewhat dishevelled morning head to his toes which... were inside his shoes, understandably. Great, another woman who most probably did not like his existence? Remus swallowed under the scrutinising stare. Okay, this was Sirius' other best friend, yes? He had to make a good impression now, so, timidly swiping a strand of hair behind his ear, he tried to smile courteously at the woman in front of him. "I'm sorry to bother and so out of nowhere, but I just happened to see Harry, and er..." He lifted his glasses on his nose from the middle. How much was he sweating already? "You must be Lily, right?" Wonder which fruit her lips tasted like?

The assumed Lily tilted her head as she kept the boy in front of her by his shoulders. The woman looked rather easy-going but sleek while wearing a grey sweatshirt with some sort of a capitalised text on it, Remus didn't care about that. She had paired bright white jeans with flats (which definitely emphasised her endearing lack of centimetres), and even though Remus knew nothing about fashion, he could tell that this woman was not fashion-oriented. Why was he taking notes on women's clothing that day, too? Harry bounced on his little feet in front of his mother and tittered, "Moony, you are in the sun!"

Remus smiled at the boy. "Yes, and sweating quite profusely because of it."

For her part, Lily stared at the man like it was her new job and it paid significantly more than her previous one. "I am Lily, yes? Hello. Yes," she ended under her breath as she managed to snag Remus' attention again, and then cleared her throat. "...Grimshaw?"

"Excuse me?" Remus asked, instinctively leaning closer. "No, I'm Mo– Remus," he introduced himself, shaking the woman's tiny, practically manicured hand while suddenly feeling rather foolish for troubling these people. "How do you do? I live with Sirius at the moment," Remus cleared and took a casual half-step backwards just to make sure he wasn't being too aversive. "I've heard a lot about your family."

Harry looked over his shoulder and at his mother. "Uncle is happy."

"I can see why," Lily said quietly with a lopsided smile. "I mean... yes! I should have known who you are, it's just that, uh, this is not what I expected." She gave her hand to Remus who happily shook it, yet again, whilst trying to pretend they hadn't shaken hands already a few seconds ago. "Nice to meet you. Very nice. You've glasses, then, huh?" Lily swallowed hard as she anew grasped her son's shoulders and seemed to be doing a very good job smiling even though her face was positively twitching all over the place. "I, er, well my, eh, husband, my husband, I am very married, he mentioned you yesterday and well, Harry wouldn't stop blabbering, but Sirius hasn't said anything too revealing about how you're –" She was definitely staring at Remus, who was starting to feel a bit more awkward than he already was? Brilliant. As if he generally needed a booster on that front. "You're... a lot taller and so much more less Geordie Shore than the blokes he usually talks about."

Remus tried not to laugh nervously at that as he fiddled non-nervously with his glasses. He wanted to say something about drinking a lot of milk when he was growing up or how he doesn't look good with a tan, but under the unwavering stare of the woman he could only tilt his head and ask, what was hopefully casually, "So, he's been talking about me?"

"You really have glasses, don't you," Lily noted, skilfully ignoring his tactless, self-absorbed question. "No one mentioned glasses."

"I'm sorry for having a bad eyesight?" Remus carefully looked at Lily, who said nothing back and just kept watching him like a starving, Scottish hawk. Okay, so squirming was a nice choice to proceed? Remus turned his eyes on the other side of the street, maybe that might have alleviated the fairly uneasy feeling he was having; however, a dog licking its balls could only be so interesting. "Somehow I'd got the impression that you live pretty far from us?" Remus asked then Lily, daring to take a glimpse of her. Yes, still staring. Why was she staring.

Lily's trimmed brows hiked up as she smiled at the pronoun Remus had used. "...Us? Er, yes! We do. We don't live in the neighbourhood, but there is this nice herbal shop we often visit. I get my cough medicine ingredients from there." Wanting to say so much more but not exactly being bold enough to trouble this woman more than it was suitable for such a brief familiarisation, Remus merely nodded at her before she asked, "Can I just ask you something?" Her tone of voice contradicted the slightly judgmental gaze. "You cooked for him?" she asked, keeping the eye contact steady. "Proper food? ...And he eats? Not just frozen pizzas or biscuits?"

"Yes," Remus answered her questions all at once like the pro he was. "Well, he does enjoy complaining about vegetables, that's for sure, but I think he's starting to come around. It's nice. I actually really enjoy the way how –" Suddenly Remus realised that he was talking way too much. He coughed up to finish his sentence, changed his weight onto his other leg, and none of it seemed self-conscious in the least. "Yeah."

"My husband is the barbeque king of the county," Lily then whispered, touching her neck. "He has glasses, and he grills pork so tremendously it annoys the neighbours."

Little Harry turned his eyes on his mother. "Daddy lighted the backyard on fire."

"Lit, Harry," Lily corrected tensely while keeping her eyes nailed on Remus' oddly fidgeting persona. "Your daddy lit the backyard on fire."

[Received at 11.14am] SON OF A BITCH YOU DIDNT TELL ME HE WAS STUNNING

[Sent at 11.14am] who are we talkin boat

[Sent at 11.14am] about

[Received at 11.15am] Remus. You called him a pasty nerd and also you did not mention glasses, what the hell honey

[Sent at 11.16am] oh clearly you have a type. stunning, glasses, ring a bell?

[Received 11.18am] He can also cook by the way. You cannot

James frowned at his phone.

[Received at 11.20am] you better take that pasty nerd off the market right now because Im going to cut you if he steals my wife. also tekken later? I try coaxing pete

Sirius would have frowned if he a) knew where his phone was and b) had been able to control the muscles on his face.

Had the current hangover been happening a week prior to Sirius' current living situation, he might have been compelled to try and get up from his bed, find that moth-eaten shoebox (in which he kept all his so-called valuables) from under it, and toss it in the kitchen to the burglar just so the fucker would piss off and Sirius could continue sleeping without having to hear that god-awful clangour and chinking caused by various kitchen utensils. Alas, since it was his babealicious roommate rummaging through the kitchen drawers and cupboards, the only thing Sirius could do at that moment was to beg a dry "Rem..." into his trusted pillow, hoping it would make the noise stop, god please, stop now. A second later it did, mercy!, and it was also safe to assume Sirius had meant to say Rembrandt.

"Oh good, you're up!" Remus yelped and then appeared in the kitchen doorway. He had a saucepan in his hand, most likely his own since Sirius had never seen the type before, and he was continuously stirring whatever the hell he had in it. The ice grey USCSS Nostromo t-shirt on the guy was painfully well-fitting and the pair of worn-out jeans condoned the severe lack of Kiss the Geek –apron. Lupin somehow managed to lift his glasses in the midst of his whisking. "I was starting to think you had descended into a coma of sorts. I was getting a bit worried, if a bit means that I was thinking of writing a list of people to invite to your wake." Remus smiled apologetically at Sirius. "I didn't get to the double digits. Are you seeing dots?"

"Among other stuff," Sirius groaned painfully, closed his eyes behind his sunglasses, and tried to turn his pillow around but failed because his limbs were working as efficiently as Santa Claus in July. He was absolutely certain that to Remus he most definitely looked like a steaming pile of camel crap, which in some long-gone culture might have been a sensual thing, so... sexy, yes?

"Anyway." Remus offered another annoyingly gentle smile at the patient and dashed back to the cooktop, leaving Sirius moan about his current situation all by himself. "It's a brand new day today and I'm making you some scrambled eggs. It's Ramsay's recipe – the key is to take turns when you stir the eggs-butter mix. On the heat, off the heat, on the heat, off the heat." He left the saucepan alone for a second and checked something else he had cooking on the stove.

Sirius squinted at the man's back but was feeling slightly too nauseated to be erotically excited. "...Why?"

"It keeps the mixture more runny and the outcome is far better than if I would just burn them on the heat," Remus explained the process as he kept whisking the eggs on the pan again. To Sirius it seemed that whatever utensil the dude was holding, it was like it was a part of his arm. Lupin Spatula-hands? Coming to your nearest theatres this fall!

"No... Why are you making me breakfast?" Sirius inquired, kneading his temple in order to ease the nauseating pressure that had invaded his whole body. "No one has ever made me breakfast. Well, James once brought me a box of cereal but I don't think that counts."

Remus peeked over his shoulder after reaching for some crème fraiche he had poured in a small bowl. For all Sirius knew it might have been hummus, but the narration sides with the former. "You have to start somewhere," Remus said.

Sirius kept his eyes on him and was happy that the sunglasses hid the pathetic glint in his eyes. And somehow he was positive there was something wrong with Remus, since the man suddenly managed to flip the spatula off the saucepan and onto the floor, succeeding to send some of the mixed eggs flying across the kitchen while he was at it. Remus sighed disappointedly and mumbled something to himself, probably thinking Sirius wouldn't hear.

Sirius did not.

"What was that?" he droned. Was Remus being jumpy? Sirius smiled a bit and shook his head carefully which was a huge mistake like most decisions he's ever made.

"Nothing," Remus replied, and as though the abovementioned action sequence needed music, his ringtone echoed from his bedroom, for some reason making Sirius' chest feel as if it was filled with hyperactive fire ants on speed. And what was that about? And what an annoying sensation, by the way. Sirius idly watched the guy quickly scurry to answer the irritating ringtone.

Sirius squinted at the ceiling as he tried to clear up the vague, stomach-turning wobbly images of the previous night that were swirling in his head like a whirlwind of Pollock paintings. James was there. Sirius remembered the embarrassing playground incident and how Harry had indeed ended the evening by poking Sirius with a stick. They had left before it had started to get dark, yeah that was correct... and Sirius had been alone. Why alone? He had talked to some old lady in front of a pub about owls and unicorns and how soybean oil was high in bad omega-6 fats. She had called Sirius lunatic. Why was he alone? That seemed odd somehow. Lunatic. He had gone to the pub, and –

Then he recalled something and it felt like he was being strangled with a dirty pair of stockings. Lunatic. Sirius whined into his palms, "...Oh my god."

Remus had been with Spanish the Explorer!

And she was now calling him and... Right, so that's the reason the guy was acting so excited, he was giddy about the girl. What a success the date must have been then, way to go Remus! Firstly Sirius felt like dying because of the hangover and secondly he felt like dying because of, well, other equally obvious reasons. Muy bien. Maybe he could play the harmonica at their wedding? He didn't know how to do that which was exactly the reason he was going to do it.

He turned to his side, pressing his cheek on his cold pillow again. Had Remus come home last night? Or had he been with the woman, who most likely was a very lovely person Sirius suddenly wanted to high-five in the face with an easel? He closed his burning eyes for a moment but had to open them for the view was too animate for his liking. How in the heavens had he come back home? The wall clock said it was a little past midday.

And then he not so much smiled as grimaced (only because his face wasn't cooperating) at the thought of Remus getting him home from the pub and taking off his clothes and putting him into bed and making his side of the bed in the morning because, to be honest, that's what it looked like, but the very same smile died as Sirius realised that none of that could have happened in real life. Remus had standards and Sirius was an overemotional turd. Reality sucked and reality was this: James had most likely brought him home, bumping him into walls by deliberate accident, and then had left him alone with the excuse of Amazing Race. He was such a good person, that James fellow.

Sirius tried not to breathe too much because oxygen was making it possible for him to think and thinking hurt his head quite a bit. A copy of Shock Value by someone Zinomanmade faces at him from the end-bed – it was a sight Sirius was more than glad to get used to; a book he was not reading himself, there... with a bookmark. Actually Sirius didn't even read that much, he was too busy spending his time doing nothing. He sighed into his pillow and let the sunglasses sunk into his softened skull. Oxygen was baahaaad.

"Do you want me to pick you up?" Trusting only his hearing, Sirius knew Remus had returned to the kitchen at some point, and in addition to the man talking, Sirius could hear clinging and scooping and some... more clinging and scooping. The headache made quite a dent on his vocabulary. "All right, okay. I'm – I – listen, I know you don't like my car, I've heard that one before. Yes. Uh-uh. That one, too. You should learn new insults, yours are getting old."

Sirius felt how life escaped from his limbs and how his soul formed a dusty raincloud over him while he was simultaneously being kicked in the crotch by an icy sledgehammer. He surely looked like the doomed Chernobyl power plant after the accident, six months before Sirius was born. Maybe he was the way he was because of the disaster? Sirius was a disaster, too, but at least he had a normal amount of limbs. ...Did he? Turning on his back, Sirius sluggishly ran his hands over his body. He sighed. Everything looked like Rothko's Black on Grey. Sirius wished he was on the floor right about now, mimicking a galápagos tortoise.

"Are you still pretending to be a vegetarian, by the way? Just to make sure since I'm cooking," Remus spoke, swiftly leaving the kitchen. He waved a hand in Sirius' direction, said, "Go eat," and moved towards his bedroom. His voice was filled with laughter. "...Steak? Not a vegetable."

She was coming to Sirius' apartment? The madness had to stop!

Feeling like he was going to hurl his brains out, Sirius sat up and stood up, forcing his legs to support him, and after putting on his t-shirt and jeans from the previous day (they smelled kind of like death but that merely suited his current state), he slugged to the kitchen, past the small amount of eggs still left on the floor. This 50% off James Dean watched the food Remus had presented to him on a plate – he was so hungry he ached, but first he needed a cup of miracle coffee. Uh, he blinked. A mug of coffee was also already on the table, next to his food, a bottle of aspirin, and Gatorade.

Sirius felt like crying. No – he felt like giving Remus a stinky cuddle as a thank-you-so-goddamn-much and then like crying. ...Not that he ever cried, but that factoid has been established already.

Sitting down at the table and bringing the shaky coffee mug to his lips, he mumbled under his breath as follows: "I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want..."

A few minutes in and Sirius just sat there, supporting his head by his hands over his plate and taking in the scent of the breakfast. It was helping, wasn't it? The feeling in his stomach, it was his own fault, because 1) he knew what too much whiskey did to him, and 2) he knew what too much whiskey did to him. Some portion of the uncomfortable sensation in his gut might have been credited to his forlorn, one-sided feelings as well as the increasing amount of jealousy that was hovering about his person, but he wasn't ready to battle the statistics and just simply put the blame on his hangover.

Sirius hated Sundays, whiskey and Remus.

From the kitchen arch door he heard, "You don't like it?" and to the misfortune of his head, Sirius quickly turned to look at Remus and vaguely saw how the guy was fidgeting with the tiniest of sad smiles on his lips. This man and his wiles!

Sirius wanted to rise from his chair and demand a hug until he would feel better; however, feeling like his feet might have failed under him, he decided to sit still and snatch a fork that had been placed next to the plate. "Just got here."

Not saying much, Lupin cleaned up the food from the floor and then resumed to intently watch as Sirius plunged the hungry spikes towards the food and then to his mouth. The tone of Remus' voice mirrored the same level of nervousness as the weird way he was standing when he asked, "How is it?"

How about perfect? The eggs were accompanied with a couple of sautéed portobello mushrooms and cherry tomatoes, or so Remus would say, but to Sirius it was just... food. He glanced at Remus who was biting his lip. He nodded tensely at the sight once he had managed to down the mouthful eggs. "...Edible."

"Do you want anything else? Juice maybe?" Remus asked him, relaxing a bit, and started bustling around the kitchen again. "How's the coffee? I was going there with my gut instinct again. Would you like some toast? A bread roll? Did you know there is a newly opened bakery next to the Tesco we went the other day?"

Not at all thinking that the chatty Scotty would make the most gorgeous house-hubby ever, Sirius said with a forced casualness, "I'm good, thanks," and shoved half a mushroom in his mouth. "Coffee's great," he mumbled and not at all bitterly glared at goddamn everything around him.

Sirius' eyes travelled from the plate in front of him to Remus' somewhat taut shoulders. "So... last night?"

Remus' back was turned at him and Sirius was able to discern how he was slicing larger tomatoes. He said with a tiny laugh, "Actually you fell asleep before I could have really said anything too meaningful."

Scratching his nose a bit, Sirius squinted behind the dark glasses. "Fell asleep? ...Okay." Why did he feel like he was in kindergarten and wanted to ask his crush to build sandcastles together? "...Did you go home with her?"

Remus was a quiet for a moment and then said over his shoulder, "Don't you remember?"

Of course Sirius did. He huffed, "I remember Old Pulteney." Snorting, he inclined his head and regretted it immediately. Man, he was slow. His cranium felt like it was sliding in a water park made of vomit and razorblades, it was absolutely frigging delightful. "Shit, you know what, I shouldn't drink whiskey. It really fucks me up. Can't even remember how I got home."

Not cutting the tomatoes anymore, Remus asked, "You can't?"

"It was probably Jay, though, he's my man," Sirius went on, pushing the cooked tomatoes from one side of the plate to the other in attempt of catching one with his fork. "He's got my back and a spare key. Then again, probably half the London has a key to this place, so maybe I should change the locks. It's been a while since I did that."

"You don't remember," Remus repeated gently to the counter and slowly turned around. Quietly he just watched Sirius, jawline tight and gaze somewhat hurt behind his glasses. "Really?"

"Are you okay?" Sirius asked him and carefully removed the sunglasses.

Remus eyed him back and started, "I'm..." but cut it short before inhaling forcefully. He let out a small strained scoff that was most likely intended as a laughter. "I'm sorry, but I want to, uh..." Yet he didn't continue from there. He just resignedly kept his eyes on Sirius and looked pitiful.

"You want what?" Sirius wasn't a mind-reader. Sometimes he didn't even understand spoken English.

"You're saying you don't remember how you got home?" Remus asked with a very weird expression on his face and the whole situation made Sirius feel super uneasy. "Or anything after that? It's all just... black?"

Sirius frowned at Remus' tight voice. It was odd but sexy, like Sirius was being scolded. "It's not like it's a big deal, okay?" Sirius then tried. "I forget things easily already without booze. When I was getting my bike license, for a second there I forgot my own birthday and I wasn't even drunk then. Had to do all sorts of tricks to assure the DVLA lady that I am me. Who else would I be?" Sirius snorted again and pushed the plate away from him. The smell was so good it was pissing him off. "I'm so shoddy at being even myself, how the fuck could I pull off being someone else?"

"But..." Remus looked at him tensely, fiddling with a fruit knife and a large tomato he had in his hands. "Last night, it... I mean, you were – er..."

"I was what?" Sirius asked, genuinely off the loop, especially by the way Remus was sadly watching him as though Sirius had stolen the Stooges cassette from his car and tossed it in Thames, which, Sirius wasn't going to lie, would have been the best way to preserve both of their vocal chords if they were to enjoy more car rides together. Shouting wasn't that nice. "Don't worry, wasn't the first time I got blacked out drunk," he continued and saw how Remus' frown grew even deeper. "Look, I know it's not healthy and you like green beans and bananas and I'll probably die a bit younger than others, but who cares." Sirius averted his eyes. He snatched his coffee mug and mumbled into it, "My uncle was 45 and he never drank nor smoked and he died from a heart attack." The coffee was slightly acrid now but he was okay with it. Matched his mood. "We're all going to die eventually. Whatever we do or however much we try and eat healthy or exercise now doesn't matter when we're fertiliser."

Remus then turned around, gently slammed the tomato on the counter and slid the knife through it. "...So stupid..."

Sirius eyed his back. "Sorry. I know you fancy carrots."

"Forget the damn carrots, all right?"

With puckered brows and a scoff, Sirius kept his gaze on the man. Something was boiling under his skin and it was not puke. "If you're so angry at me for being a drunken bastard, then why do you bother making me breakfast?" Forget the carrots, something didn't add up here! Remus' shoulder blades were stiff as hell as was the air between the two men. Resentment for everything was suddenly hammering in Sirius' throbbing melon and he wanted to take the fork and gauge the feeling out just to show it to Remus that it had absolutely nothing to do with him and his stupid goddamn date the previous night. Argh!

"I like to cook," said Remus simply, not bothering to make an eye contact.

If he liked to cook then why wasn't he making a breakfast for his beloved girlfriend? Sirius glowered at the scrambled eggs and wanting to murder them, he snatched the fork and shoved more of them in his mouth. Goodbye, eggs!

Suddenly, with a gasp and a clang from the knife hitting the wooden countertop, Remus stopped what he was doing. As he neared the sink next to him, the manner of his movements weren't as nearly a smooth operator as they usually were; he was doing a magnificent impression of Quasimodo while hunching over the counter. Sirius was being observant enough to see a trail of blood rushing down on his arm.

Instantaneously forgetting his hangover as well as the breakfast and his hatred towards basically everything at that point, Black lunged up from his chair like a Jack-in-the-box and dashed to Remus. "What the hell did you do?!"

Remus reluctantly turned to show him, and Sirius saw that the man was holding his left hand from the wrist in front of him and a terrible amount of blood was gushing on his shirt from between his trembling fingers. The guy evidently tried to keep his cool but only managed to look as though he might pass out any second, which, as he had stated earlier that week, was a possibility of some sort. Maybe. "...Nothing."

"How is that nothing?" Sirius asked almost angrily and quickly grabbed a roll of kitchen paper from the holder behind the sink. He turned back to Remus. "Now, is it okay if I –" Sirius started but as he saw how panicky the man was getting, the sentence changed into a more demanding, "Remus, let me help you. Can I touch you?"

Remus nodded.

Sirius swiftly took the guy's hand into his and placed a thick folding of the rough kitchen paper against the bleeding index finger. The increasingly terrified look on Remus face did not escape his somewhat muddled attention, and er, how in the world had he been annoyed at this man a minute earlier? Sirius felt like a loose udder. "Remus, keep looking at me and breathe," he said semi-calmly, trying to ignore the horrific thumping in his head that made him want to sit down and imitate the ever-woeful Edgar Allan Poe. Why? Who cares. Remus watched him in the eye and tried to take proper breaths, not succeeding at it all that well. He was imitating a fish on dry land, or more accurately Sirius' mother when she had finally realised that her oldest son's growing interest in male genitalia had nothing to do with her wanting him to become a doctor. The revelation had been worsened by the fact that at that moment she had been out of gin and tonic.

While staying close to Remus but making him press the paper against his hand himself, Sirius managed to move to the furthermost cabinet next to the refrigerator and snatch a first-aid kit from the lowest shelf. Quickly he turned his eyes back on Remus' distressed face. "Did you say you take medication?"

Remus was leaning against the sink and shook his head while holding the hand on the level of his shoulders. "...Sorry."

"All right, it's okay." Sirius placed the kit under his arm and again moved closer to Remus. His hand resting soothingly on the small of the guy's back and his voice close to Remus' ear, Sirius asked, "Do you want to sit down?"

Closing his eyes, Remus said, "Y... yeah." He sounded as though he was choking on his own breath, and Sirius started to gently usher him out of the kitchen and towards the sofa in the adjacent room to get some air. He firstly moved to open a ventilation window by the bed, placed the first aid kit on the living room table and then sat next to Remus, who kept breathing in a very surface manner, slightly fidgeting to stay still as he pulled his legs on the sofa. The way he kept his arms above his head looked like a really fancy way of praying.

Sirius drew some cleaning wipes and a sterile dressing from the kit to be ready and moved closer to Remus, and while knowing that this situation was most probably the worst kind for Remus, Sirius tried his hardest to remain calm. Surely enough he felt nausea building up in his gut, but no time for that. This was his moment to shine and show that he could actually do something useful in his life, for once! "Remus?" Sirius voiced the guy's name and Remus finally opened his eyes. Sirius nodded reassuringly at him. "You're going to be all right. We just need to wait for a bit and see if the bleeding stops. Can I take a look at it?"

Again Remus nodded hastily, keeping his eyes on Sirius who took Remus' hand in his own and gently pressed the wound in order to neutralise the bleeding furthermore. Sirius instructed Remus to breathe simultaneously with him, and it was more than clear that Remus struggled to inhale through his nose at the same time as Sirius did, but he all but obediently kept his eyes fixed on Sirius and the air in his lungs for four seconds or so before exhaling through his mouth. He was sweating and his glasses were all kinds of wonky on his nose. Sirius gulped. Hugging Remus right now would be odd, right? Right?

"Good job," Sirius said, flashing Remus a hopefully comforting smile. "Again."

They repeated that for a good few minutes, increasing the interval of the breaths, and once Remus' breathing had calmed down slightly, Sirius started to handle the wound, placing a thick bandage on a sterile dressing and securing it in place while his eyes were almost constantly glancing at Remus' face. The cut was vertical alongside the finger and deep, and it was beyond baffling, how the fuck was that even possible? The dude had been handling a tiny fruit knife!

After another five minutes and a glass of cold water, Remus was starting to breathe normally. Sitting next to him and observing his patched up finger like the professional physician he definitely was not, Sirius said, "Your turn."

"Katana," Remus said into his almost empty glass and lowered it on his lap, on top of a soothing pillow that was resting on his legs.

"...Never heard." Sirius watched Remus' faintly frowning face – and as though he had never done so before, he studied the lashes of the yet again closed eyes, the slight crease between the brows, Remus' lower lip that had been bitten raw. Not taking his turn at the super interesting game called Alphabetical Superheroes he had invented a few moments ago in order to distract Remus from the wound, Sirius dropped his gaze on the man's lap and saw blood still seeping through the pad on his finger. "We need to go to the hospital."

Remus fixed his eyes on Sirius' face. "We?"

"You think I'm going to let you go alone?"

"But you hate hospitals," Remus reminded him.

"I admit that to be very true," Sirius said and wobblingly hopped up from the sofa.

After a while of waiting in the lobby of the nearest hospital's emergency department, Remus was sitting in a moss green leather chair in a physician's room, his left hand propped on a well-lit operating table. Quite wisely had Sirius situated himself between Remus' knees and was standing in front of him like a looming wall; Remus' injured arm went right by his side while Sirius' back was facing the operating table and thus blocking Remus' view to the stitching event. Remus' right hand was constantly touching Sirius – his fingers were grabbing the hem of his shirt, the edge of his jeans pocket, his leather bracelet, whatever he found most comforting each second. Their position was cramped and beyond ridiculous and neither of them seemed to realise this.

The physician did, however, and from behind Sirius' back, she said, "Before we can start, can the... er, companion step outside?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Remus said to her, craning his neck so he was able to see her behind the lanky man. His grip on Sirius tightened considerably. "I kind of need him here or I'll have another... panic attack. Not that they are panic attacks, but you know, it's not quite that pleasant. Please, let him stay?"

The physician turned her eyes on Sirius, who reminded her of a totem pole. "Then, sir, can you move to the other side of the chair?"

Not budging in the slightest, Black shook his head while not even looking at her. "Yeah... no. I can't see this stuff, you see? I have a thing with needles and I'll definitely go under if I see one, so I have to stay right here, where he sees me but I don't see the needle, but I also need to block the view from the possible blood because he absolutely hates that. It's terrible for him."

"Horrible," Remus added.

The physician eyed them like they were mad, which they most definitely were. "...Right."

"Right," Sirius agreed over his shoulder and turned his eyes back on the door.

Remus agreed silently by nodding and then returned to fondle the man in front of him.

"Let's start, then."

Later she almost titled her report as 'The case of the insane married couple'.

So, all of London was exceedingly hot and humid that day, and while people were wearing some of the skimpiest and most bizarre set of outfits Remus had ever seen in his life, for some mysterious reason the man walking next to him was hiding under a teal t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Anyone in their right mind would say that the scorching sun alone was too much to handle, but since it made Sirius breathe deeply like he was in a sauna and wipe his forehead on his shirt (thus shamelessly exposing his abdomen for all people to see, by the way), Remus, in particular, was done. He was suffering and he wanted it to stop. His hand was hurting, Sirius was moaning that he was hot right next to his frigging ear, and life was all sorts of unfair.

Apparently not in a hurry of any kind to get back home to the horrible crime scene, they had opted not to take a cab and just take a walk instead. While Remus was getting his prescription medicines from the hospital pharmacy, the idea of spending a little bit of extra time with Sirius had sounded nice. Take a stroll with the guy, his brain had suggested; but now that he was actually doing that, Remus slowly realised how incredibly dumb his stupid brain had been to begin with. No – present tense, still is. Watching Sirius in this weather was just pure unadulterated torture in six different languages. Forcefully tearing his eyes away from the man and his distracting skin, Remus popped one of his pill bottles open and took a painkiller with water. He tried to do it gracefully, but Sirius ended up witnessing him cringe and cough like he was swallowing something much more terrible, like his self-confidence.

"Does it hurt?"

"Don't worry about me," Remus said quietly and closed his newly-purchased water bottle once he had managed to swallow the pill. The aftertaste of the medicine was that of a cynical cardboard box. He offered the bottle to Sirius, who took it happily. "You have the hangover of the century. Deal with that first."

"Oh that old thing?" Sirius brushed off with a laugh and sipped the water in a manner that should have been censored for small children. "...Seriously though, dude, we've known each other for a week and you've probably used more meds than in 20 years." He flashed a reckless, lopsided grin at Remus. "Somehow I have an increasing feeling that it might be my fault."

It was. Lupin blinked lazily at him. "Start worrying about it when you have to roll me into a clinic for overuse." Sirius let out another throaty chuckle, making Remus feel like maybe this wasn't the end of the world. As Sirius concentrated on the traffic lights when they stopped at a zebra crossing, Remus concentrated on Sirius' striking profile. Yes, definitely not the end of the world.

Continuing on their journey onwards, Sirius took another gulp of the water and then turned his eyes on Remus, who was carefully rubbing the wrist of the injured hand. His stitched finger was stinging in an annoying manner as the local anaesthetic was slowly wearing off. He was unable to relate the feeling to anything else he knew – Michael Bay or eating raw garlic were close, though, but not quite there. Remus wanted to comment on it, the sensation, but before he could do so, he heard from his side, "How come you have a tattoo?"

Remus lifted his eyes from his hand and saw Sirius looking at him. "Sorry?"

"The HOPE on your ribs?" Sirius went on and Remus felt a bit self-conscious (but also awfully flattered) realising that this gorgeous man had indeed been watching him, plain old Remus, that closely. They reached the pavement across the road and continued walking to left where Sirius was subtly guiding them both and, to be brutally honest, Remus didn't exactly mind the softly determined hand on his lower back. "I haven't any personal experience on the matter," Sirius continued, "but doesn't it hurt like shit to get some ink done?"

"Well," Remus started carefully, scratching his sweaty neck. "It was uncomfortable, I'm not going to lie, but getting a tattoo hardly includes any blood, so."

"Uncomfortable?" repeated Sirius with an unbelieving voice as he pulled a rubber band from his jeans pocket. Whipping it to his hair, he went on with, "Try insane. A needle doing that to you for a few hours straight? No offense, but why would anyone do that to themselves?"

Watching Sirius tie his hair up and away from his face, Remus dropped the water bottle in his plastic bag. "My mum died before my fifteenth birthday."

Sirius stopped dead in his tracks. "What?"

Oops. "The tattoo is for her," Remus then slowly elaborated, feeling that maybe he was killing the atmosphere a bit – however, it was also very likely that he had already done that earlier with his fantastic knife skills. At this point Sirius had proceeded to wipe his own sweaty skin and Remus had to stare at the ground for an indefinite amount of time because of that. "Her name was Hope."

"Look, I'm... Remus, I didn't mean to –"

"It's all right," Remus told him with a small headshake as they resumed walking. "You couldn't have known."

They swerved a couple with a baby carriage, and somehow, after yet again guiding Remus to join his way, Sirius' warm hand stayed on his back. All right, now that part of him was tingling as well, awesome. "What was she like?" Sirius asked him, presenting the question in a way that no one could have thought it as intrusive. He flashed his cuspid within a slightly apologetic smile at Remus. "If you don't mind me asking."

"She was a regular mum," Remus answered without a delay as he stole a glimpse of Sirius' expectant face. Sirius laughing, frustrated, crying; or serious and distractingly tender as he was now, he always seemed to bring so much passion to all of his facial expressions. Only after a week of watching and trying to decode this expressive man, Remus felt like his own smorgasbord of emotive reactions that showed up on his face was positively withering and dangling on his chin like a limp scrotum, so how could he compete? He couldn't. "Like I told you before, she was very protective," Remus continued, averting his eyes from Sirius. The pavement had some gum on it. "But it was understandable, her being that way, I think. I've always got easily sick and that's basically the reason why I try to eat healthy and try to avoid anything artificial even now." He waved the small pharmacy bag on his hand that had his water bottle, antibiotics and a bottle of dihydrocodeine. "See how well I'm doing?"

Sirius only let out a small laughter.

"I do miss watching films with her," Remus continued, surprising himself completely by letting out a bunch of silly little words he had never voiced to anyone so freely. How they rolled off his tongue just like that was... mindboggling. When was the last time he had talked about any of this? Remus swallowed and dared to peek at Sirius. The guy was not pushing Remus or telling him shut up about the subject, he didn't seem restless about it like some other people previously had been; he was adorably laid-back, clearly listening, his large hand warm against Remus' back. Not that Remus knew the man that well, but for someone who was a self-proclaimed volatile volcano of emotions, Sirius seemed surprisingly calm and kind at times when something like that was needed. "...Eh." And now Remus felt insanely stupid.

When Sirius he asked him the follow-up question, he was acting as though the possibility of receiving an answer was otherworldly. "...How did she go?"

"She had a tumour." Remus didn't even think of not answering. He glanced at Sirius again. What was it with this guy? "She had chemo and later a surgery, but..." Remus shrugged and kept a pause. The weather was surely melting his brain. "You know, she never lost her sense of humour. She kept saying how she had always wanted to look like Xavier, anyway."

Sirius nodded languidly at him. At some point his long fingers had found Remus' and were holding them tightly, pulling him closer by the palm. The gesture wasn't trying to be seductive or sexual, it was just comforting in a way that seemed as though Sirius was trying subtly to work out the bone structure of Remus' hand. "So twelve years, huh?" Sirius asked.

"Yeah." Remus smiled at the man. His right pinkie was safely tucked in between Sirius' index and middle fingers. "Do you remember the Leonids I told you about? The time I sat at our porch with a tin foil hat on my head?"

"Now how could I forget something like that?" Sirius sniggered. His laughter sounded like summer and his thumb brushed over the first knuckle of Remus' forefinger.

"We were praying for the stars," said Remus without thinking about it too much and instantly felt a bit more silly (that was quite impossible at this point but still). Watching his shoes or whatever, he quickly added, "It was stupid, I know, but we were kids and Teddy believed in it, and since he had so much faith, it kind of helped me to think about something else rather than our mum in the hospital. That was in November. She died a month later." Again he glimpsed at Sirius whose light grey eyes were cemented on him and oh boy, he was moronic, why had Remus opened his mouth in the first place? "I'm sorry," he mumbled while wanting to hide behind his hair – no, not long enough. Maybe the pavement might have swallowed him if he wished for it vigorously enough? "...I don't know why I'm talking about this." Then he whispered again, "Sorry."

They had stopped at another traffic light, jam packed with lazy Sunday people, and out of the blue and with a tight squeeze around his fingers, Sirius leant closer and gave Remus' temple a languid kiss. Oh god, don't blush, Lupin, keep it together! Somehow managing to keep his cool, Remus flashed his default smile at the man, his heart fluttering in his chest like a drunken butterfly and it was drunk, as in cackling and vomiting in someone's shoe and doing a beatbox version of the Mortal Kombat theme song (and yes, Remus himself had done all three at some point of his life, but let's not get into that). Once away from him, Sirius let go of Remus' fingers and cleared his throat in a loud manner. He was oozing some kind of an unintentional nonchalance and Remus had some difficulties keeping his eyes on anything else. The streetlamps. Bushes. Remus could not control his eyes. Sirius was smiling, sweaty and striking. "She'd be very proud of you, you know," Black suddenly said, watching the people on the other side of the road and Remus was definitely staring at the fucking bushes. "For several reasons."

Remus wanted to kiss Sirius but only said, "I think she would just crack a few jokes about me being too nerdy to function."

"Well aren't you?" Sirius was smiling at him again, it was cheeky yet warm, and if someone wanted to know, pfft, Remus did not, er... he – he didn't, like – no. Remus wasn't sure if it was the effect of the drugs he had taken earlier or just plain Sirius, but his mouth was very dry.

Maybe snogging might help?

They were able to continue walking as the lights changed (which made total sense if you truly think about it) and Sirius had his stupid grin on his face when he leant dangerously close to Remus' ear. "Now, would you tell me your thoughts on that."

Realising that he was, yet again, ogling at Sirius in a rather unnerving fashion, Remus was only able to breathe a very vague version of, "Sorry?"

"Oh, Edinburgh, you're so out of it in the big world," Sirius laughed and made Remus melt a little by touching his cheek with his thumb as though wiping something off from it. "I mean that?" Sirius nodded towards a teenage boy swaggering along the zebra crossing in front of them. "...Whatever in the hell that is."

Remus chuckled into his imaginary beard as he watched the teenager whose waistline was probably intentionally dropped down to mid-thigh, exposing his questionable choice of underwear for anyone to see from under his jeans. "What about it?" Remus asked, his cheek tingling a bit.

"It's his arse, so why isn't it in his trousers?" Sirius made the effort to make a rather impaling eye contact with Remus as though reading his thoughts, and Remus, in turn, merely shrugged as a reply because how was he able to say anything when this was happening: Sirius's fingers were on his the forearm now. "I just can't stand the youth these days, you know? I mean, if you have the money to buy a pair of trousers that big, also buy a fucking belt to keep them up. God."

"Calm down, grandpa." Remus dropped his gaze on the road as his attempt to overlook the constant thumping in his chest. It was bad, and... Sirius was touching him constantly, but anyone in their right mind would realise he could not be serious about it, right? It all had just been a drunken babble, right?! "I'm happy as long as we don't have to look at his genitals."

Sirius swung his arm over Remus' shoulders and drew him even closer as though to tell him a thousand-year-old secret he had overheard in a monastery of some kind. "Dicks can be rather nice, Moony." As he spoke, his breath lingered on Remus' skin in a comically sultry way that reminded Remus of Pepe Le Pew; Sirius certainly shared some characteristics with the skunk, for example a hobby called lovemaking and his current overpowering stink that... yeah, probably had nothing to do with anal scent glands. Remus was hopeful. "I've seen my fair share and I can vouch for this."

Remus stifled a laughter, ignoring the low and unbelievably sexy vibrato in Sirius' voice. That voice? Certainly it could melt stuff, like a phone or Remus or... a fire extinguisher, which would be very impractical in the long run. "Yes, I have seen the evidence in your sketchbook," Remus told him, not thinking about his choice of wording at all. He rarely premeditated, which was a mistake, considering the fact that he indeed lived in a world where there were other people as well.

Again, Sirius stopped walking and drew his arm away from Remus. He was definitely petrified but as though a stunning statue instead of the gargoyle everyone around them was calling him. "...What?" he whispered. Every once in a while a person gets a muscle spasm on their butt cheek, yes? Sirius was having a butt cheek muscle spasm on the left side of his face. "You –"

Now Remus slowly yet surely realised what he had said and did he feel like an idiot? Yes, he probably should have. He fiddled the handles of the plastic bag in his fingers and strived to accentuate the following apology by sweating a lot. It had nothing to do with the weather. Which is a lie. But also is not. He breathed, "I'm sorry. Um –"

"You looked at my sketchbook?" Sirius asked flatly. Remus' internal commentary noted on how at this point as Remus was able to see the final strands of life escape Sirius and the man was starting to look like a stale fart, he was still very much handsome. This should have been enough to make him question his taste level what it came to men but it was too hot and humid to concentrate on something like that. Also Sirius was again staring at him and his Adam's apple looked tasty.

Remus started carefully, "Yes, but –"

"Erk." That right there was a very specific kind of sound coming out of Sirius' mouth at that moment, and Remus wasn't going to lie; he wasn't as knowledgeable about the mating calls of mountain gorillas or horny whales as Sirius most likely was, but even he could say that the utterance escaping Sirius' quivering lips sounded like neither of those. The guy was just wheezing and looked extremely uncomfortable while doing that. "Look, I," Black managed, bringing a hand to his face. From behind his fingers, he mumbled, "I'm... not a creeper, I think, or at least I try not to be, but it's just that, ah, you see – I'm an artist, so –"

"It's all right," Remus then said, speaking from his heart that kept hammering in his ribcage, wanting to come out. He brought both of his hands, healthy and not so, on his chest because it felt like the muscle was jumping in and out of his shirt as though in a cartoon. "You enhanced my looks quite a bit, but still, thank you."

"I draw what I see," Sirius muttered as an enlightening reply and then cleared his throat. Seeing Sirius so out of his usual state of coolness, it kind of made Remus awfully... something. Elated? What a weird feeling. "And the dicks," Sirius went on, scratching his hair, looking at anything that wasn't Remus, "If you must know, that happens only when I'm buzzed. Inebriation always brings out that side of me – although!" He suddenly turned towards Remus who smiled back. "I do like dicks while sober, too, I mean who doesn't? Dicks are fantastic!" As he was shouting this, an elderly woman almost fell over into a rose bush while walking past them. Neither of them cared.

Remus said nothing and merely managed to beam at the man standing in front of him.

Sirius watched him back. "...What?"

"I can't feel my face," Remus told him.

To that Sirius grinned widely and moved to poke Remus in his cheek. "Oh they gave you the good stuff!"

It only took them twice as long to get back to the apartment than normally, which honestly doesn't surprise anyone. Starting to feel slightly funny because of the medicine, Remus had wanted to walk through the nearby park just in order to look at some pigeons (for several unmistakeably idiotic reasons which he had then presented to Sirius with the aid of Google Image Search), and even though Sirius would have loved to see the guy as happy as he could be, his goal also was to get Remus home as fast as possible. If the dude was to collapse in the middle of the park, what was Sirius going to do? Carry him? Bwah! Surely he was able to do that with a guy approximately his size and with the distance between the sofa and the bed, but under the sweltering sun and a guy approximately his size sweating like a boiled pig and mumbling non-coherent Scottish words while breathing heavily against him? Sirius buckled under the mere thought.

So, about forty minutes had passed since his painkillers had started to take a proper effect, and now Remus was happily sitting on the living room sofa, watching the telly with a fairly dazed expression on his face. Fairly in this particular scenario meant that he was five minutes short from drooling a puddle on his lap. He flashed a wide, droopy smile at Sirius who returned from the kitchen. "They found a real Ming pot!"

Sirius nodded at him as he sat down next to the man. "Really?" He gave a glass of water to Remus and turned his eyes on the television where a dashing older gentleman in a bowtie suit was holding a blue-white porcelain jug of some sort. "Isn't that shit valuable?"

"It had quite a dent in it, though, so I don't think it's worth much."

Huffing, Sirius eyed him suspiciously while sipping his water. "How big a dent?"

"A man had lost half of his head," Remus said and placed his glass on the table next to the previously used first-aid kit, after which he sunk into the hard sofa like it happened to be a half-melted marshmallow instead of the painful piece of furniture which, even Sirius realised this, was one of the worst things in the current day England. Sirius, unhurriedly watching Remus relax next to and against him, thought the man looked cute as fuck but obviously still felt bad for him, obviously. He had been rather adamant about not letting Remus into the kitchen before he had mopped up the dried up blood from the floor, and by the time he had done that, Remus was already slouching on the sofa like a truck driver after a long week at work, looking like he was definitely not going anywhere from there. All he seemed to be needing was a cold beer or a warm hand down in his jeans, and Sirius definitely volunteered to give him either of those if truly needed.

"Want to go to bed?" Sirius asked while watching Remus, who in turn lazily fixed his eyes on Sirius. It should mentioned that most of the action between these two men happened only with their eyes. "I think you could use some sleep, and I'm not just referencing to your weird moon craziness here." Sirius tilted his head as he observed the way Remus was blinking at him. "You look like you're about to pass out."

Remus lifted a hand to touch Sirius on his upper arm as he practically begged, "Can I watch this." Okay, begging... eh, a bit of an overstatement here but Sirius really liked the idea of Remus begging, so he shouldn't be robbed of this moment.

"All right," Sirius gave in after the fierce battle of the minds (state: non-existent really) and hopped off the sofa, went to snatch a pillow from his unmade bed and gave the said pillow to Remus, for him to place it on the other end of the sofa, naturally. "Now, relax, and try not to slobber on it too much, okay?" Of course Sirius expected his pillow to be drenched after this, the dude drooled, but he had a washing machine. Everything was going to be all right.

What he did not expect was Remus to place the pillow on Sirius' lap and relax right there. Naturally.

Everything was not going to be all right. "You do realise that you are using me as a mattress right now? Sort of." Sirius was speaking very quietly as if adding any volume might have fried the last of his working brain cells. He had three left and he was not playing Russian roulette.

"Yes," muttered Remus indolently as he watched the bright colours on the television screen. He bent his legs on the sofa so they wouldn't have hung over the armrest and somehow he looked really tiny for such a lanky-arse dude. "Do you mind? I can focus better if I'm this way." He had on yellow socks.

So he could focus better? Way to be nice and think about Sirius in this gosh darn situation, bastard! "No, sure, do as you will," Sirius gulped and did his utmost to concentrate on the television program, but he wasn't that successful in his endeavour, to be honest. Actually he wasn't doing well at all, so it feels more than bothersome to try and incorporate his name in the same sentence as the word successful. He asked, "What would... er, Dora say, though? If she knew about this, about how you are currently situated in the lap of yours truly."

"Probably that I'm too set in my ways; she thinks I'm stubborn," Remus answered and kept his eyes tightly at the flickering images on the flat screen. Oh, and suddenly he was giggling at something? That was nice, fuck! Sirius frowned, and Remus waved his hand at the television. "Look, I bet Harry would like that," he said lazily and Sirius would have cared if he had any air in his lungs, which he did not.

Sirius quickly eyed the decorative dinner plate illustrated with blue dragons and some fancy-arse trees, but never mind the china, there was a huge crush on his lap and he wanted his full attention on that. "I thought you had fun with her. Dora. ...Didn't you?" Didn't she call Remus earlier? Wasn't she supposed to come there that day? Where was she? Had Remus forgotten? Why was she late? Why the fuck did it seem like Sirius gave a shit? He huffed a bit in an attempt to expose more of his caveman-esque type of personality, because apparently he hadn't done that enough already. When he spoke his voice was not very far from St. Bitterville. "I was under the impression that you had a real, uh, connection with her? I mean she is in love with you. That ought to... mean something. To someone. I don't care but... you know."

Remus didn't look away from the television as he said, "My date with her was terrible."

"Terrible?" Sirius repeated, trying to stop the sudden joyous air in his voice. His anxiousness subsided a little and something warm and fuzzy was celebrating in his gut. "How terrible? From one to ten?"

"Spinal Tap."

Sirius wiped his clammy palm on the sofa cushion and inclined his head so he was able to see Remus' face better. "And how bad is that?" What did he usually do with his hands? His IQ was dropping by the second because Remus' dazed smile was brighter than the future of the whole fucking planet.

"Going all the way to eleven," Remus said to Antiques Roadshow. The dragon plate was valued at ridiculous £5,300 and Sirius was slightly upset to notice that Remus seemingly thought it was more interesting than him. Sirius was worth like! ...£6. Never mind. "Not the worst date I've ever been on, but not much better," Remus commented. "Once I went out with a girl who happened to be a prostitute and technically still a man. That was the worst."

With an interested brow movement, Sirius watched him. "How did that work?"

"It didn't," concluded Remus and quickly lifted his glasses on his nose. His injured hand was resting on his midriff and he was subconsciously scratching the edge of the bandage covering his stitched finger.

"Right," Sirius said, lifted his feet on the table and crossed them from the bony ankles. The cold surface of his water glass felt nice against his toes. "Let's disclose this then. What happened and why didn't you fall hopelessly in love with her?"

Remus sighed dolefully as he finally turned his eyes away from the television. He awkwardly crossed his fingers on his chest and looked like he was taking his sweet time to contemplate the whole thing over. He probably did and Sirius was enjoying every second of it. "Well, firstly, I should have realised from the way she was wearing a pair of bright red kinky boots that she was actually a –"

"Not the hooker, Remus." Sirius thought he should emphasise his words by poking the guy in the forehead. "Do-ra. What was wrong with her? ...Aside from the things I've already seen."

"Oh." Again Remus snickered lightly; he sounded tired and disoriented and Sirius could feel his laughter on his lap. "Nothing per se, but she insisted on going to a Greek restaurant because apparently dolmades are in right now." Remus made a slightly nauseated face as he lifted his gaze at Sirius. When he spoke, he spoke slowly as if trying to enunciate every syllable clearer than ever before and Sirius was beyond help. "It was a nice place, very cosy, but everything had olives. Everything. I think even the soap in the restroom was olive-scented. And when I asked the waitress to, you know, maybe not have olives in my meal, the woman gave me the scariest evil eye and I almost peed myself." He rubbed his eyes behind the glasses and let out a sigh. "So... I had a meal that tasted like olives while Dora accused me of flirting with the staff."

Unable to help it, Sirius smiled. "Sounds dreadful."

"Yeah." Remus was playing with the hem of his shirt. "Also, she clearly enjoys talking about David Beckham's training routines concerning his triceps and deltoids." Remus laughed a bit and shot a look at Sirius. "Don't get me wrong; I do appreciate his athletic... everything as much as the next person, but only really when he's in front of me and naked."

This was positive news to Sirius whose physical strength consisted entirely of the ability to open a wine bottle without crying. Sirius asked, "Did you see a movie?"

After briefly nodding, Remus lifted his glasses again. "The Notebook."

Hearing such a travesty being uttered in front of him, Sirius had no other choice than to pity the guy and say, "Oh fuck, I am so sorry you had the worst time in the history of everything." Sirius was kneading Remus' left upper arm as a consolation of some sort. This act of kindness succeeded in helping both of them, but in silent consensus neither of them knew that.

"Thank you," Remus said as in literal pain in which he actually was because of the existence of Nicholas Sparks.

After this exchange, some kind of a calming and extremely clichéd silence fell upon them for a moment, during which Sirius (yet again) meticulously studied the intricate patterns of slightly visible anything on Remus' face while the man in question had returned to watch the television show and its super fascinating episode on Asian porcelain – this was Sirius' interpretation of the moment. To anyone else it might have simply seemed that a creep with a lazy eye was ogling at a half-unconscious/half-asleep moron who gave off an air of not having the slightest of an idea what was going on around him, ever. Both of them were pathetic to the bone and someone should write a book about them.

Not Nicholas Sparks, though.

"You know what my mother used to tell me when I was a kid and scratched my knee while running?" Sirius suddenly asked the moron. No ulterior motives were harmed using this line, but his fingers did itch to go running through the seemingly soft tuft of hair that was in disarray but still so stunning on the pillow. No cologne today, Sirius had already noticed earlier, and happily enough he was able to bask in the mix provided by Remus' natural scent and his magical mint hair conditioner. So, this just in: Sirius was known both to fuck a dude and take it in the arse (depending on the day really, but on Tuesdays he exclusively topped only to maintain a regular schedule), but the fact that he was almost sniffing someone's hair because it looked adorable made him realise he was so much gayer than he had originally planned to be.

"You ran as a child?" Remus asked as though Sirius' question was the stupidest thing he had ever heard. Again he was watching Sirius from below, squinting a bit. "...Is this another one of your jokes that I don't quite understand? Like the bicycle with two tires?"

"Okay so I fucked up one punchline, once," Sirius admitted bravely, flicking something off from the pillow right next to Remus' ear. "…But no. I walked very fast and I sort of toppled over because my foot was there. Wasn't really running. Happy?"

Remus watched him seriously as he took the information in. "So as a child, were you the most awkward thing ever to walk upon this planet, or was it someone else?"

"Shut up," Sirius chuckled, earning yet another dazed smile from Remus. At this point he was definitely carefully touching the tips of Remus' hair, but since the dude would never know, it was all right... Right? "If you must know," Sirius said, "my feet grew before my other parts did. I looked like something out of a Japanese cartoon James has a crush on. I only needed a mini skirt and some tentacles, and he would have been all over me."

"You didn't have a skirt?" asked Remus, horrified by this revelation. A half a second later he let out a manly squeak because Sirius almost threw him on the floor for being a cheeky fucker, almost, as in Remus was definitely cackling and clinging on to Sirius' waist while Black tried to push him off the sofa.

"Anyway," Sirius continued after a panting Remus safely sat up next to him. "When other kids fell and hurt their chin or knees, their mothers always kissed the boo-boos away. Every time." He tilted his head to match Remus', locking his eyes on the man's lips. Remus had told him the day before that he had lost his lip balm and that was the reason he was so annoyingly licking his lips all the time? Sirius rarely considered things rude but that was rude. "I was so fucking jealous of them," Sirius went on, "because it seemed like their mothers cared, whereas mine just told me that I should stop snivelling and grow a pair."

"Boo-boos?" repeated Remus, slowly bringing a strand of rebel hair behind his ear, while he bit his lip. He directed his amused yet very unbelieving expression at Sirius, who, not even quite frankly but goddamn obviously, was in absolutely awe because the hazel shade of Remus' eyes seemed more green than yellow that day. He didn't care that Remus was too disoriented to pay attention or that he focused on the wrong part of the story, fuck that. For that green, he was willing to forgive all. For those lips? "Did you just honestly say that?" Remus managed. "Boo-boos?"

"Yeah, boo-boos. Like this one," Sirius breathed and leant closer to take Remus' hand in his. At first Remus recoiled slightly at the touch, but Sirius had already grabbed the injured hand and was now showing it to Remus as if he didn't know what had happened earlier that day. This was bad. Sirius licked his lips. "Now, let's say you had a gash like this when you were a kid. Did your mum... kiss it better?"

Blinking slowly at him, Remus shrugged. "I guess. Why?"

"I just..." Sirius managed, pressing his thumb tightly against Remus' palm. The finger slid under that bit of the bandage that was wrapped around the entire hardel in order to keep everything still – and with that, he exhaled, let go of the hand and turned away from Remus. "No reason." Yes, Sirius might have been dumb as hell but he was also insanely stupid. His heart was pounding for multiple reasons and he was boned. God damn it, he was boned. He wanted to kiss Remus so bad and the bloke should go back to Scotland before Sirius would explode. This was reality.

Also reality was this: from out of nowhere (well, actually from the same sofa) Remus sluggishly moved over to Sirius, brought both of his hands to the man's cheeks and pressed his on the lips of Sirius, who... did not get to kiss back, though, since mere seconds later Remus was already leaning his head against Black's shoulder while exhaling as though he had been keeping his breath in for hours. Sirius had no fucking idea what to think about anything really, but it was certain that somewhere deep inside he was already crying from happiness like the snivelling wiener he had always been, because Remus was hugging him. Hugging him! Oh JOY!

"Are you all right?" Sirius asked Remus, who was starting to relax against him a bit more profoundly while still grasping Sirius' shirtfront like his life depended on it. Lupin's steady yet annoyingly aggravating heartbeat was burning through their shirts and it was the sole reason why Sirius was starting to perspire quite intensely. Eh, starting to? Right! He was slowly becoming the spitting image of Niagara Falls. "Your hand, is it aching?" Sirius ventured to ask while basically embracing the man and fighting the absolute urge to snog him to oblivion. One of his fingers was ghosting over Remus' shoulder blade, mimicking a string of movements from Strictly Ballroom. Not that it was intentional. Sirius had never seen the film.

"I need to tell you something," Remus mumbled against Sirius' neck while his soft hair was doing its own thing there, brushing against Black's ear, sending all sorts of shivers flying about like a swarm of disarray mosquitos, the works. He was half-straddling Sirius, half-entangled with his legs, his right knee pressing against Sirius' abdomen, his shin resting on his crotch. Somehow it all worked. It needs to imagined, not explained.

"...Okay?" Sirius casually breathed. He was going to be fine, fine, very fine, nothing to worry about here, Remus just felt so incredible in his arms that it was making him feel weak. He fit and... somehow felt a lot heavier than he seemed. "Remus?"

Nothing but drool on his shoulder.

"Ooh, that's probably not good."

A light jab in the left side of his ribs almost woke Remus up, but since everything that had something to do with his head felt way too heavy for him to process, he chose to stay in Snoozetown, directly neighbouring Bitterville. The town politics between those two were – wait, no one cares. Remus did manage to make out some sort of a series of grunts that most definitely made him sound like a half-dead bear, but that was just about it.

"Remus? ...Wake up. I'm hungry. I didn't eat anything because you said you were cooking."

"Quit poking him, he's doped. The doctor prescribed him some intensive shit and he didn't listen to me when I tried to – hey, seriously man, could you leave him be? I mean, I am the one living with him. You, on the other hand, have the option to leave the premises, but I have to deal with the goddamn aftermath of him not being able to sleep so... I said – I said stop poking him. I am talking out loud, aren't I? Don't wake him up since he's finally sleeping, all right?"

"...So, can I ask you a question?"

"If it has nothing to do with politics, religion, or any of the so-called popular talent shows that are supposedly playing in the television at the moment, be my quest."

"I've been his brother since I was born, so I like to think I know him, you know? And he's kind of cautious with sharp objects and whatnot because he has this weird thing about blood. He's a sissy like that, so there is no way he'd do this to himself. So... be honest. Did you stab him by any chance?"

"What?! No! Are you insane? I would never do that! Besides, do you really think that if I was going to stab him I would aim at his hand? Come on. Everyone knows it's the throat you target if you want someone to bleed out!"

"...Excuse me?"

"I mean, no I did not stab him, all right? He was probably upset with something I said, I couldn't really tell because I was fairly self-absorbed at the time and he didn't even say anything, and then he cut himself, with a knife. It was an accident. And before you start blaming me more, I did ask him if he wanted to call anyone, but he didn't. That includes you. So, not my fault."

"You made him upset? He doesn't get upset."

"I can easily imagine you making him upset on regular basis. ...No, no – hey, don't – no, don't you dare! Keep that away from me, it looks very expensive! No, no, don't kill me! ...I'm going to be very angry if you do that!"

For a while after that Remus could vaguely hear a strange thumping noise that most likely was two tall, grown-up men running around the apartment one after the other. Remus wasn't that big on profanities but had he been conscious, he might have picked up on some good shit to use later.

"Remus, for fuck's sake wake up and get this madman away from me!"

Revised obituary: Sirius Black the third, a surrealist painter, a rebel without a cause, an innate mutineer. Born as a baby, later reached the age of almost 27. Didn't get along with his family and died while definitely not getting along with his improbable brother-in-law. Killed with an acoustic mahogany Martin.

Finally after sleeping for several or so hours, Remus opened his eyes and saw absolutely nothing except the hazy shape of the living room table horizontally situated in front of him. Apparently a table lamp was lit on the bureau next to the kitchen wall behind him, but it brightened up the room only so much; that sad excuse of a light source did nothing for Remus in his current state of absolute blindness. It did change the red colour of the living room walls a few shades darker, however, and whilst the place had already had a slight brothel vibe to it (no offense to the person who had chosen the wall paint a.k.a. Sirius), now the darker and oddly pressuring atmosphere made Remus sweat and see sounds.

Or maybe he was still just high on meds.

Rubbing his aching hand, Remus sat on the sofa for a few minutes and tried his hardest to gather his scattered and mushy thoughts, failing quite terribly at the task at hand. The hardwood flooring beneath his feet felt reassuring and warm, and it slowly dawned on him that the blindness was because someone had taken off his glasses and, oh, he definitely felt way too groggy to try and find them in the dark room, so fuck it, he would have said if he had been Sirius or if his tongue wasn't yet again glued to his palate in a bloody fascinating manner.

His back sore because of the uncomfortable sofa, Remus managed to mumble something to himself as an act of encouragement, got up and slowly teetered to the kitchen. The distance was approximately 10 meters and he almost fell over twice.

A streetlamp was understanding enough to cast some extra light to the kitchen but not too nasty to blind our vision impaired hero, who was afraid to put on the actual lights in the room. Sirius, on his behalf, had been understanding enough to leave Remus' medicine bottles on the kitchen counter, both of them screwed half-open, easy for him to handle. A small gesture surely, but it made a world of difference to someone who needed help to unbutton his jeans to go to the bathroom.

Thankfully Sirius had been helpful there as well.

As Remus downed a painkiller with some lukewarm tap water, he hazily took in the state of the kitchen table: used plates, empty beer bottles, Teddy's smart phone blinking a bright blue light in one top corner. Someone had ordered – he stepped closer to see the opened clam shell containers – chow mein? Sirius had doodled swirls and Darth Vader's helmet next to the takeout place's logo on an orange napkin. Remus bumped against the table as he moved to touch the end of a pair of chopsticks that were neatly placed on a plate. Remus dared to smile a little; Teddy was only capable of using a spork with training wheels, so most definitely those were Sirius'? Remus would pay to see him use them.

Concentrating his thoughts on both a pair of long-fingered hands and walking like a champion, Remus made way back to the living room and was almost making his mind about going to the bathroom when he heard soft voices coming from the balcony. The white-framed glass door was open but only a little bit, however it was enough for him to eavesdrop the conversation like a regular arsehole but also stay in the shadows like a proper Bela Lugosi impersonator. Remus could make out the pungent smell of menthol cigarettes and the city air hugging the building.

"What are you doing? Trying to infiltrate the Lupin family business or something?"

"You lot have a family business?"

"Raising bulbs, planting things," Teddy said. "The family business."

"...Come again?"

"Dad's a florist. He's the only one doing it, though. Rem can't handle plants, he's ridiculous like that." Teddy's following laughter sounded like a familiar bonfire at a beach in Brighton. Warm and liquored up. "Once he managed to kill a cactus, imagine that."

"Yeah, he told me," Sirius admitted, bringing a bottle of beer to his lips. He was sitting back facing the balcony door and Remus could only just distinguish his profile. "And you're busy with uni and music?"

"Yes," Teddy said, not looking in Sirius's direction. His acoustic guitar was resting on his lap and the way he was touching the strings seemed almost apologetic. He had a droopy cigarette on his right hand and a sad smile on his face. "...I am."

With evidently tense shoulders, Sirius nodded at Teddy. "That's, um. ...No, I'm not infiltrating anything." There was a long pause during which Sirius swirled the tall slim-necked bottle between his fingers. He had once told Remus that he didn't care enough to be a brand whore when it came to beer, but the Heineken label on the bottle spoke otherwise. It was the only beer Remus had ever seen him drink. "Him, though?" Sirius went on. "You really want to know?"

Teddy took a swig of his own half-empty bottle. "I did ask."

"Honestly? I..." Sirius shrugged glumly and brought a hand to his neck. As he spoke it sounded like he was supressing the tiniest of laughs, but nothing in his appearance seemed as though he was in good spirits. "I don't want to say that I like him, because that sounds like we're in middle school," Sirius then said carefully and lifted his head to watch Teddy, who sat opposite from him, facing the balcony door. The younger man nodded understandingly at Sirius, who then continued as if stopping there was a cardinal sin. "But I do. I'm drawn to him more than if he was naked Dalí bathing in Pinot noir. I'm starting to –" he brought his hands to his head and hit himself with the beer bottle. "...Ha, fucking adore him, I'm pathetic. As you can see. He knows what he's doing and talking about, and all that is giving me a raging boner, but in the heart."

Teddy nodded at him again, waving his cigarette in Sirius' general direction. "The scientific term for that is a cardiac erection, I believe."

"That," Sirius admitted, rubbing his temple. "This is bad, Teddy."

"What do you mean?"

"For my health, mainly." Sighing desolately Sirius leant against the backrest of his metal patio chair. The small movement scratched the harsh concrete flooring of the balcony and the sound made Remus' spine itch. "It hasn't even been a week and I'm a blubbering, aching mess, thanks to your dimwit older brother. You might not know me that well, but this is quite a hit to my wellbeing right here. I don't know if I'm ever able to bounce back." Then, as though being afraid to say the following words, he whispered while bringing his bottle to his lips, "Secondly, it kills me because I'm pretty sure he expects a lot more from a person than I'm ever able to be."

"Uh-uh," retorted Teddy indolently, moving his head along with his non-words. The mixture of his green-tinted, haphazardly messy hair and a streetlamp granting some background lighting for him from behind thus creating menacing shadows on his face, it all made Remus think about the Joker. The good one, Nicholson.

"You know you could be a bit more sympathetic," Sirius groaned.

Teddy shrugged as he inhaled from his smoke. "I only have a few beers in me and I barely know you. Which is kind of odd that you're all Sharey O'Lighting over there."

For a moment Sirius mimicked Teddy, watching him quietly smoke his already half-gone cigarette. Then, out of nowhere he decided to go with, "I'm a slut."

"What?" Teddy asked, seemingly very confused, very fast. Coughing he added, "I wasn't talking about that kind of sharing –"

"I am, though, and I know it's not exactly something people usually strive to find in a dateable person – the quality of fucking as well as getting fucked by a notoriously large number of people. ...Not simultaneously, however." Sirius tilted his head. His shoulder length, slightly wavy messy hair was open and worked as sad curtains for his face that was distorting in evident distress or constipation. The way he was sitting, slouched up and strangely done, it made him seem someone else than the Sirius Remus had got to know. Remus wanted to see him smile. What could he do to make him smile? Sirius scoffed, "I bet he would love to have someone like me to wake up next to every morning."

"Well, he's not that picky," Teddy consoled the sad excuse of a human being. "I mean, once I had to talk him out of breaking up with a girl because she didn't know what a Wookiee was, but I don't think he's that way anymore."

Sirius stared at him. "Why would you do something like that?"

"Honestly, I've never understood the appeal towards the franchise."

"You're weird," Sirius muttered, slightly suspiciously squinting at the younger man.

Teddy drank the last of his beer and placed the bottle on the floor next to his chair. "Thanks."

"I've been disappointing people my entire life," Sirius suddenly said after a while of just sitting there, playing with his bottle. He faced Teddy's frown and shrugged lopsidedly. "You know? Maybe... maybe I don't want to disappoint someone like him. He's too good for that. I feel like just being with him would ruin him eventually, and that would be like pissing on the first snow of the winter." He smiled a little, letting out a small tight laugh. "Writing your name on it is pretty fun but in the end it's just piss."

"Why would you piss on him?"

Sirius sighed, "It's a metaphor. I'm not good enough."

Teddy asked Sirius after exhaling the smoke of his cigarette, "You're not just wagging your jaws here, are you? You fancy him."

"On general basis I'm a fucking clown," Sirius said sharply, not really addressing Teddy's lines while tousling his hair with his free hand. The long-forgotten beer bottle was still hanging in his hand and it wouldn't be too long until it would start to attract wildlife. "The reason why I'm so freaked out about this is because I'm never serious about anything. I don't like anyone and if I did, I would never admit it, not even to myself, and... here I fucking am, talking to someone I've only known for a few hours, so –" He looked like was about to shed a few tears or something, but then he just laughed. "...Yeah, I am very serious when I say that I'm fall– er... that I like him, a lot." Then Sirius whipped out an index finger at Teddy. "And it goes without saying that you are never going to tell him any of this, okay?"

Smirking annoyingly, Teddy casted his eyes at the door. "I don't think I have to."

Sirius turned around and saw Remus watching him from the balcony doorway.

"Teddy, you're so dead," Sirius then mumbled, not averting his eyes from the dishevelled sight that was Remus's dishevelled persona. From the look that was on Remus' face Sirius was somewhat able to tell that the man had heard at least one of the three important things he had uttered to Teddy. Sirius himself was not quite sure what the said three things were but man was he in trouble now.

"Edward," Remus quietly murmured, keeping his almost-blind gaze on Sirius, and the younger man hopped up from his chair like he was on springs. He dropped his cigarette butt in his empty beer bottle, hoisted his guitar on his shoulder and grinned annoyingly at Remus.

"Right! Okay! I better be going anyway, to see if Vicky's still mad at me for not going drinking with her and her mates." He gave Sirius a nasty side-smirk (whatever the hell that was) and walked up to Remus to pat him on the shoulder, as if to tell him that it was nothing but a shit-storm thenceforth. "I'll just tell her it was your fault, all right? She's more likely to forgive you than me."

"What did you tell him?" Remus asked his brother silently without a blink, gazing at Sirius who had seemingly frozen solid by something that clearly had the ability to turn all of the 50 different Facebook emojis into one single marble statue.

"Nothing," Teddy whispered back and continued jestingly, "Just that you love to eat dick for breakfast and can suck the chrome off from a tailpipe."

Remus waited until Teddy left the flat before he said anything.

Sirius looked very panicking in the small balcony, his almost empty beer bottle definitely not trembling in his hands. He said nothing, probably because he had swallowed his tongue, and now just kept watching the streets that opened below them, but with some serious difficulty since he was basically next to the flat wall and there was shit between him and the handrail? He was a wizard. Suddenly the balcony felt even smaller than it was and Remus could understand perfectly why Sirius chose to lock his horrid of a mother there if needed. The smell of cigarettes was vertiginous.

"I'm not going to sleep with you," Remus said slowly, his eyes on Sirius' tight and desperate shoulders.

He heard and saw the last remnants of his soul escape from Sirius' body.

Remus moved to sit on the chair in which Teddy had sat moments ago, still opposite from Sirius, where he reclined against the metallic backrest, his palms awkwardly on his thighs. "Not tonight, because I'm still a bit groggy and I just took another painkiller, so I'm going to be lights out soon." He rubbed his eye while the chair squeaked in the rhythm of the subtle movement. "I want to be completely attentive when we have sex and I'm afraid that's not me at the moment." He lifted his dazed eyes on Sirius' disbelieving face in front of him. "Sorry."

"...When we have –?" asked Sirius silently, eyes wide and his grey irises eerily pale.

Remus would have watched him more thoughtfully had he been able to see properly. "I need to tell you something," he said again, hopefully keeping awake this time.

Sirius nodded, but took a quick glimpse over his shoulder, towards the balcony door and the slightly lit flat inside, as if trying to make out an escape route. "Okay?"

"I lied to you," Remus uttered, digging his non-existent nails on his thigh muscles. "I'm sorry."

Sirius was starting to look anxious, or so the narration says – Remus could not give a valid opinion about this matter. Swiftly Black emptied his stale bottle, placing it on the concrete flooring beneath his feet, and surely he tried to look as composed as possible while his eyes quickly scanned over Remus' face; however, his hands were noticeably shaking and his left leg was twitching restlessly as though he really needed to take a piss, so that sort of gave him away. "...Go on."

Watching Sirius' slightly furrowed brows in the light of the streetlamps and the quickly growing moon, Remus gathered his thoughts and started quietly, "What do I do with Dora?"

Sirius' frown deepened a bit as he kept his eyes on Remus. "What about her?" His tone was strained and Remus thought that maybe he didn't want to hear about Dora. Ten points to Remus. Remus also didn't exactly want to talk about her, but he felt like he should, but then again he also felt like he ought to talk about a lot of other things and his leaden lids felt like they were made out of tar and Osmium. Sirius wasn't looking at him.

So, out of options really, Remus breathed distinctly out and said, "I consider myself polite –"

"You're snarky," huffed Sirius. For more information, please refer to the previous chapters.

Remus exhaled and kept his eyes on Sirius, who still wasn't looking at him. The guy was biting his lower lip and his left leg was still as fidgety as before. Maybe he really needed to go to the loo? Slowly blinking at this, Remus said, "I shouldn't have gone out with her, that was so thoughtless of me." Finally Sirius turned his eyes on him and Remus felt a bit more alive. Sirius looked unclear around the edges, like a hazy clump that was waiting to hear something that would have shed some light on things, as if the general lighting of the situation wasn't good enough. With such a handsome face Sirius still managed to look idiotically baffled, like a lost puppy who was... baffled and handsome. Remus pushed on. "The only reason why I did that, why I asked her out, is because I'm crazy about you."

Instantly Sirius' leg stopped moving and his frown disappeared. "Come again?"

Remus kept his blind gaze steady. "You heard me."

"...What?"

"You do things to me," Remus cleared, slightly twisting his face because his tongue just felt nasty. Sirius stared at him silently, his eyes wide and confused. Remus added, "All kinds of things," sniffled and directed his gaze at the floor. Teddy had torn the etiquette from his last beer bottle. Oh, Vicky had been very mad at him. "All of this, it's too intense after such a short time and I can't take it. I don't know what's happening to me, but it's making me mad, how much I want you to touch me, all the time."

"I'm sorry," laughed Sirius nervously, leaning a bit closer, propping his palms on his thighs. The way he did that opened a nice view under his loose shirt, but for obvious reasons Remus was not able to take a mental picture of that. "I probably have some pigeon shit in my ear canal, because..." As Remus watched him move, Sirius only managed an almost inaudible, "What?"

Remus kept his eyes on Sirius' completely flabbergasted face and tried to make out his image, but it was just blurry as hell. He should have made an effort to find his glasses earlier but lazy people always get punished. This was his punishment, not seeing Sirius. "I'm going senseless here," Remus said, closing his eyes. "It's stupid really, how much I –" Remus didn't end that sentence because it was stupid, and so he just sat there, eyes closed and waiting.

But as there was no reply to this, Remus dared to peer at Sirius, or, what he saw of him anyway. Sirius stared at him, mouth slightly open. He frowned, pointed at himself and yelped, "What?!"

Remus shook his head. "Please don't shout."

"Sorry, sorry," Sirius hurried, bringing his chair closer. His beer bottle fell over but no one cares. "Sorry." Otherwise evidently Sirius had stopped functioning, or at least that was what Remus witnessed in a very close proximity now. The warmth emitting from the man was exhilarating and kind of weird, he was just a human being, not a furnace.

"This has been the longest week I have ever had," Remus continued cautiously as he had his eyes on the tile wall behind Sirius. He didn't see it that well either, but it was easier to talk to a slab that looked like a very grainy version of a muppet rather than someone he was fighting not to kiss right that instant. "I've always known what I want, and although I'm not that assertive of a person, I still go after it, one way or another. However, before I do that, I think all the possible outcomes for at least 20 times. That's why I had such a hard time this week, as I was trying not to do anything hasty, even though I really wanted to."

Sirius asked, "YOU had a hard time?!"

"Yes." Remus simply nodded. The iron handrail of the balcony had been painted vintage green some time ago, and the paint was chipping off in many places. Remus did not see this. "Edward told me to think of you as only my flatmate, and he was really stern about that. I mean... Like, when we went out this Thursday, the whole day I spent thinking how I wanted to kiss you, but he said I shouldn't. I know I'm not supposed to be captivated by your stupid shenanigans, but I am."

"Who the hell is Edward?" Sirius asked.

"Teddy," said Remus.

"And what shenanigans!"

Remus cocked his head a bit, ignoring the shenanigans. "Do you even know how sexy you are?" he laughed lightly, talking to the air instead of openly directing the words at Sirius.

In front of him Sirius now blinked as though his brain understood what was being said but it hadn't the vocabulary to participate in the conversation. Remus thought it was better this way. He may not have been able to say anything if Sirius was talking back... that much.

"You know, I realised the ad wasn't yours the moment I saw the bedroom," Lupin went on, shaking his head and twisting his hands as much as he was able to without hurting himself. "But I was hoping you would ask me to stay." He lifted his gaze to the man in front of him. "I wanted to stay."

He got no visible reaction.

"I remember telling you that I found the view stunning?" added Remus, hoping that Sirius might show some sort of sign of life. "Did you really think I was talking about the street view?"

Sirius still said nothing as he was busy staring at the guy like an idiot.

Slowly enough Remus realised that his heart wasn't beating nearly as fast as he had previously thought it would in this situation, but then again he was on meds and that might have had something to do with things, perhaps. Sirius, he was still in front of him, listening carefully (if not brain-dead) and not scooting away (pins and needles thus unable to move just yet – it was possible), and all this made everything slightly easier for Remus. Then again he was an adult and he could have just said what he wanted to from day one and not beat around the bush like a hobo looking for a toilet, but that's not fun for anyone, right? "Ever since that moment when we first met, you have slowly but surely taken the whole of my limited brain capacity and it's really bothersome because I genuinely do have other things to think about as well, but trying not to think about you takes twice the effort." Remus sighed tiredly. "I know from experience."

Sirius watched him back, his eyes still wide. Sounding like he needed some serious eye drops, he managed an "...Oh," which was not louder than a pathetic whisper. Briefly he took a glimpse at Remus' fingers, but soon enough his eyes found the guy's face again. "Uh?"

"Do you want to say anything else?" asked Remus, kind of hoping for something.

"...Eh?"

Remus chuckled. "Smooth."

Sirius managed only to dishevel his hair more and he pushed it back from the top. "So let me get this straight." His chair moved closer to Remus' again. "This whole week, you've been – how should I put it eloquently – into me?"

"It's very easy to be when you're constantly flirting with me. You can't deny you aren't."

"I don't think I'm even going to try," said Sirius flatly.

"Naturally I thought that I might have a small chance even though I'm clearly not your type," Remus told him quietly, and before continuing, he frowned. The fuzziness around Sirius was making his head ache. "But then on Friday, I started weighing up the facts; maybe I had read all the signs wrong and you had just been friendly with me because I'm your new flatmate. Flirting doesn't necessarily mean anything. And… you suddenly told me that you had a crush on someone, and it was so hard to keep up because I really cannot concentrate on anything when you're talking to me." Remus frowned slightly deeper, a tiny, sad smile on his chapped lips. "I guess I am a bit of an idiot."

"Um," whispered Sirius. "Yeah?"

Remus licked his lips and he kept his unrelenting focus on his fingers. "So, er, while I was working that day, still being able to feel my arms around you when you dropped me there on your bike, and when you left... I started thinking even more." Shrugging lightly, Remus let out a tense laugh. He risked to lift his eyes on Sirius, who was squinting back at him, probably. "Dora saying all those things... I ended up asking her out because I figured if I spent my time with someone else, I would have got you out of my head. I mean if I was supposed to live with you for the next six months, I should at least try and find a way to control myself."

Sirius nodded sluggishly. "Someone might call that a reasonable approach."

Remus agreed. "Yes, but then later that night, at the pub, you kissed me, and –"

"Oh, so you weren't kissing me back, is that it?" Sirius jested. "For I remember the situation a bit differently. I've made a mental painting about it. Should I describe it, that would take more or less 700 words."

Remus smiled at the tone of Sirius' voice and rubbed his eye. He wasn't going to back off now. "My date with Dora went horribly because all I did was think about you, how you kissed me, how my name sounds when you..." He felt like cursing himself for being so mushy, but Remus doesn't curse. He's a good boy. He dropped his hand and exhaled. "I tried to focus, believe me I tried, and I felt so bad at the end of it, wasting her time like that, wasting my own, that I kissed her as a last straw, maybe that would have..." He trailed off and turned to watch the railing. He didn't see it. He really needed his glasses. "But naturally it only made things worse."

"How?" asked Sirius now quietly, his voice coming a bit closer as if he had either moved his chair again or was merely sitting on the edge of it.

Remus turned quickly on him and elaborated, "It was like playing tonsil hockey with a raspberry."

Then, carelessly letting the beer bottles clang on the balcony floor, Sirius definitely moved his chair even closer. Although this movement was hasty and rough, his hands weren't when they found Remus' face and when they forced Remus to look at himself. "Tell me," Sirius started, his fingertips slowly drawing shapes under Remus' ears, somewhere on his neck. "And please be honest." Now that he was this close, Remus could even make out his eyelashes. "...Do you like raspberries?"

"Not particularly," Remus said, blinking with difficulty. He felt a blush creep up on his cheeks as Sirius kept watching him with such intent, but thankfully it was dark and no one cared about his blush anyway. "If you could just repeat something you told my brother?"

"Something I told him?"

"Yes."

Sirius' fingers brushed on his neck as he smiled and whispered, "Remus..."

Remus watched him. "Yes?"

"I am not infiltrating your family business."

A/N2: sorry

leave a comment if you like