Chapter Text
Remus Lupin was just thanking his luck when the last person he could handle seeing waltzed into detention. To give all context, three years earlier, Remus had been bitten by a radioactive spider on the way home from a field trip to the Natural History Museum. Etc. etc., he gained mysterious strength and—er—sticking abilities? Designed a synthetic spider fluid, and become a bit of a celebrity as a London crime fighter.
Skipping forward to today in last period chemistry, Remus had been mixing his web fluid as discreetly as possible (which was much harder when his lab partner was James, who happens to be annoyingly interested in both chemistry and Remus, making it very difficult to mix a tub of in-progress web fluid under their shared desk, but he managed.) In fact, it was so difficult that he had accidentally lit Mr. Flitwick’s blazer on fire (since they were burning things that day) just as the bell rang, leading him to have to hastily and discreetly shove the open container of web fluid into his bag and head straight to detention, where he’s been the past few minutes or so.
He stared at a poster on the wall advertising the upcoming Yule Ball. Just his fucking luck. Now the web fluid was in danger of leaking out of the sides of his bag, and he was thanking every god in existence that he was the only one in detention that day. He was plotting his escape, which involved a lot of creeping around so as not to wake Mr. Binns, the proctor, and the nearest window, when Sirius Black had walked in.
God, Sirius—he supposed that needed explaining, too. Approximately twenty-three hours and thirteen minutes prior, Remus had come to the deeply unfortunate realization that his best friend, Sirius fucking Black, was the object of his—unrequited—disgusting infatuation. Well, to be fair, it’s not like the feelings were entirely new. There was always something, some part of him that had identified Sirius as attractive, sure. Like, once in a while, Sirius would lean his head on Remus’ shoulder, or bite his lip, or flick his hair over his shoulder, or eye-smile at him over his fucking shades, and Remus’ breathing would quicken just for a moment, before he reminded himself that this was just Sirius, and Sirius was Sirius.
But something had shifted on Saturday. Lily had thrown a party for all their friends while her family was out of town, and they had broken into her parents' liquor stash. Remus had gotten as loose as he ever did, his head in Sirius’ lap, their usual positions swapped. Sirius had his hands in Remus’ hair and was gently singing along to the music, the drunken conversation of their other friends a low hum around them.
The conversation eventually turned to Remus and how surprised they all were that he had made it. “That’s our Remus,” Mary had said. “Always mysteriously disappearing. Dunno if he even likes us, or if he’s just hanging around for Lily's booze,” she joked, getting a laugh out of most of the group.
Sirius’ hands stopped moving, and Remus glanced up at him to see him looking right back down at him as well, smiling softly. Remus’ chest did something funny, then. Sirius should be more careful about who he’s pointing his eyes at, because he’d cause a heart attack one of these days if he wasn't careful. “Nah. I know he loves us, somewhere, deep down. Don’t you, Moony?” Remus was still a bit sloshed, and any response he had got caught in his throat. He didn’t like attention like this, most of the time, and could hardly stand to be complimented. Maybe it was the alcohol, or Sirius’ smile, or the softness of it all, but Remus let Sirius’ comments roll over him and sink deep into his skin.
When he didn’t answer, Sirius threw his head back, cackling, his neck illuminated by the low light in Lily's basement. And at that moment Remus had come to the catastrophic, drunken conclusion that he didn’t see Sirius as his friend—or never just that, something different, something more—and that Sirius would never, ever feel the same way. Simultaneously, he realized that he’d better shove whatever that “more” was back where it came from, or else he’d lose one of his closest friends.
So, now he was—well, he was in a bit of a predicament, what with him fancying his best friend, whom he would have to not only see every day, but talk to, with real, actual sentences other than “Hi”, and “Doing well”, and “I think I might do something horrible (like kiss you) if you keep looking at me like that”. Just avoiding Sirius had worked for the better half of the past day, and he planned to continue on like that as long as he could get away with it.
“You avoiding me, Moony? Haven’t seen you all bloody day,” Sirius said now, grinning.
Ok, so, clearly not long at all. Fabulous. He shoved his bag behind his legs, out of Sirius’ sight. Sirius walked over, dropping down right next to Remus, despite the dozens of other empty chairs in the room. Fucking spectacular. Remus wasn’t sure if the sweat growing on his forehead was a result of stress from being caught or Sirius’ proximity. Either way, he needed to get out of detention as soon as possible.
“I’m not—” Remus huffed. He always found it difficult to lie to Sirius, which was ridiculous, because he basically was keeping half his life secret from everybody, all the time. “I have somewhere I need to be. Cover for me?”
Sirius pretended to gasp, grinning. “My, my, Moony. Skipping detention?! I think James and I are rubbing off on you.”
“Ha.” Maybe if he held his bag in front of him while leaving, Sirius wouldn’t notice. “Look, I’m sorry, Padfoot, but I have to go—”
“Wait,” Sirius grabbed his arm, his eyes darting back and forth, like he thought someone might be watching. “Look, I don’t actually have detention this time, if I’m being honest. I followed you here. Can—can I talk to you about something?” His eyes caught Remus’ for the first time, really, and—come on. That just wasn't fair. He looked so plaintive.
Remus had all sorts of answers ready, like “no” and “sorry, but I really do have to go” and “shove off, Sirius”, but he fell short seeing the look on Sirius’ face. One thing he had learned about Sirius was that he never wanted to “talk” about anything, if he could help it. They were rather similar in that way. And if he was asking now, like that, like he would crumble if Remus left, then it must be important. Heaving a sigh, he sat down next to Sirius, making sure his bag was still somewhat concealed. “What is it?”
“Oh.” Sirius paused, visibly taken aback by Remus’ engagement in the conversation he began in the first place. “Well I - there’s this person. That I fancy.” He looked down, fidgeting with the zipper on his leather jacket, more nervous than Remus could ever remember seeing him. If James was here, he’d probably stay quiet, patiently listening to whatever Sirius managed to drag out of himself. Well, Remus didn’t have that patience.
“Yeah, you do every other week, Sirius.” Only partially true. Sure, Sirius liked taking girls on dates and snogging them well enough, but he’d never actually heard Sirius outright say he really liked any of them.
“Oh, shove off. Anyways, this person - this person that I like is a, er, bloke.” Sirius turned towards the window, his eyes shifting away from Remus’.
Oh. Nothing could have prepared Remus for that. Just, really, absolutely nothing. If you would have ever asked him which were more likely, that wizards were real, or that Sirius Black had a crush on a bloke, he would have gotten that question wrong 100% of the time.
Sirius spoke again after Remus took too long to respond. “Remus?” His shoulders were drooping, and he looked almost ashamed, and shit .
“There’s nothing wrong with that, Sirius. I know your parents taught you some rubbish about-”
Sirius interrupted him, eyes wide. “No, no, it’s not - I just. I don’t know. Wanted to ask for advice. On this person. That I like.” He held Remus’ eyes, as if trying to convey some hidden meaning.
“Oh,” seemed to be all he could respond. Remus was quite certain he had never felt so conflicted in his life. On the one hand, the fact that Sirius trusted him enough to share that was lovely, and he wanted to be someone Sirius could tell his secrets to. On the other hand, it seemed like Sirius had real feelings for this guy. This guy, who Sirius “liked”, who he now wanted “advice” about, which Remus absolutely did not want to give him, because he (a) was a terrible friend and (b) had some very inconvenient feelings about him, which he would not be defining, and which were quickly rising in his chest at the thought of Sirius fancying somebody.
“And - and I guess I’m asking you, as a um, bloke who likes other blokes, if this one might, I dunno, like me, like that.” Remus had never seen Sirius this nervous about any of his previous relationships. James always made fun of him for being the type to date someone for two weeks and either make them a bitter ex or a lifelong friend, but never a serious relationship. But the way he was talking now seemed to contradict that.
“Is he - gay?” Remus asked.
“Yeah,” Sirius said. “Or, I know he’s dated guys before.”
“Then,” Remus paused, the words difficult to get out. Never mind, he was a bloody fantastic friend, actually. They should give him an award for how he managed to hold Sirius’ gaze like this while his brain was slowly filling with air. “Then I reckon you’ve got a chance. Anyone would be lucky to be with you, Sirius. Really.”
Sirius brightened instantly at his words, a wide grin breaking out across his face, which was really very annoying , at the moment, because of Remus' aforementioned unnamed feelings. “You think so?” Sirius’ grin widened. Remus briefly felt intensely vitriolic for the person who had unknowingly and probably unconsciously managed to steal Sirius’ eyes, and heart, and joy. Then, he shut that shit down.
Remus paused, swallowing. “Yes, Padfoot. Anyone,” he responded, while his selfish lungs were clogged with dread and frustration.
He was so preoccupied with his own selfish bloody feelings that he didn’t notice that his bag had tipped over on the ground, and some of the web fluid was leaking out the sides, and shit shit shit , because Sirius was going to notice . In fact, Sirius was leaning closer to him in the space between their chairs, and—and he forgot what he was thinking about, because it was Sirius , and he could smell him when he was this close, all leather and perfume. It felt slow, so slow, so Remus took the time to outline the shape of Sirius neck, and his mouth, his lips, and his eyes, so wide—
No. No. No. He had to get out of here, now.
He stood up, grabbing his now drenched bag and tripping over his shoes, trying to get out of sight as quickly as possible. “Sorry, Sirius, I have to go!”
“Wait, Moony, I—” He didn’t hear the rest of what Sirius had to say, because he was already out the door and rushing down the stairs to the chemistry laboratory to salvage what he could of the web fluid and check the damage in his bag. All his textbooks and notes were covered in half-formed webs. Brilliant. Just his luck.
🕸🕸🕸
Remus sat in the alleyway, tuned into nearby police stations on his phone. He practiced flinging webs at the wall in front of him, already covered in webs. He probably should consider switching locations to avoid someone finding him, but he couldn’t be bothered at the moment.
It was a relatively calm evening, which gave Remus plenty of space to endlessly go back and forth between feeling like shit for giving Sirius advice on his new potential relationship and feeling like even more shit for feeling like shit in the first place, since he was Sirius’ friend, first and foremost, and he should help him, shouldn’t he? But-
“Help! Somebody!” He jumped at the nearby shriek, instantly sprinting in the direction of the voice. “Help!”
He ran toward the corner, dreading the sight of a mugging, altercation, or assault - the possibilities were endless, really.
He scanned for the source of the distress call, but all he saw was a woman who looked seventy at least standing in pajamas in the middle of the street and holding a very small, empty leash.
“Er-what is it, ma’am? Do you need help? Should I call a hospital?” He hadn’t done a lot of chatting with old ladies in his line of work, and it felt unnatural to approach this elderly lady in his full combat gear.
“Oh! Mon Adrien! Mon Adrien!” The lady grabbed him by the shoulders, and he flinched at the sudden contact. She seemed close to tears. “Dans l’arbre!”
“Ma’am, I don’t speak-”
“My Adrien! My beloved! Oh, you must help!” Her voice was hoarse from screaming and intermittent sobs.
“I- you’ll have to be a little clearer. What do you need? Who is Adrien?” The French name came out clumsily on his English tongue.
“My dog! He’s in that tree!” Oh, thank Christ. He looked up at the tree in question, barely large enough to hold a pigeon, let alone a full-sized dog.
“Sorry, Ma’am, I don’t see a-”
“Ici! There!” She frantically pointed a wrinkled finger at a dark shape in the tree, so small Remus had missed it at first glance. He squinted to get a better look.
“Ma’am, that’s a-”
“My dog! Mon Adrien!” She waved her arms to Remus, then at the shape in the tree.
Remus sighed, then shot his web toward the sickly looking gray rat trembling on the highest branch of the tree. The animal seemed averse to being rescued, gripping at his small foothold for dear life. “Come on,” he said, attempting a gentle tone.
The lady watched, hands clasped in front of her pajama shirt. “Descends, Adrien, descends,” she whispered.
At long last, he managed to snatch the rat off the branch and, touching it as little as possible, handed its trembling body back to its owner, who held it like a baby in her arms. She reattached its collar before setting it back on the ground. “Thank you, thank you, monsieur!”
“Um. You’re welcome,” Remus began to turn, eager to get back home. To his distress, the lady did not stop there, following him and grabbing his shoulder.
“Oh, thank you, thank you, je ne sais - I cannot say how grateful I am.”
If there was one thing Remus did not appreciate about this gig, it was this part. He usually didn’t stick around for any thanks or praise after helping somebody. He also didn’t interact with a lot of old ladies, in either of his lives. “Um - thanks. Really, no problem. I’ll just be on my-”
“You are such a sweet boy, such a saint,” she began rummaging through her purse. “I must give you-”
Remus cringed. “Oh, really, I don’t need - I mean, it was just a ra- dog,” he attempted, but she was already pulling out lollipops.
“I insist, young man.” She forced them into his hand, closing her own wrinkled palm over his. “You remind me of my grandson.” She gave him a large smile, then trotted off with her pet rat into the night.
Well. That was weird.
🕸🕸🕸
Sirius Black had not stopped cursing himself since Remus abandoned him in detention. He’d spent all of twenty seconds just staring at the closed door before beginning his mental self-flagellation.
“James, it was awful . You don’t understand,” he said over the phone to his best friend, not caring who on the bus would overhear him. The whole world needed to witness this tragedy. It was Shakespearean.
“Alright, slow down, mate. What happened?” James had been one of his biggest supporters in the quest to make Remus Sirius’ boyfriend, AKA operation QTMRSB (“quest to make Remus Sirius’ boyfriend”) so far. When Sirius had finally told him how he felt about Remus, after three too many glasses of wine from his Uncle Alphard’s private stash, James actually had the gall to respond, all cavalier, “Oh, yeah. You only just realized?”
“I did what you told me to do. I told Remus how I felt, and then I tried to kiss him and he practically fell over himself trying to get away from me.” Ugh. Everything was James’ fault. He should’ve done what he had always done, and kept all his secret feelings bottled up inside forever until they eventually killed him out of pure frustration. Stupid, stupid James.
“Wait, you confessed? To Remus?” James sounded incredulous. “And he rejected you? I mean, really, properly rejected you?”
“Yes. He did! I asked him specifically if he would be interested, and – I don’t know, it seemed like he was into it, so I leaned in to kiss him, and he turned away sprinted out the building like he was the fucking gingerbread man!” A man holding a small child stared at him with a judgy expression that Sirius did not appreciate in the slightest.
“Oh. I’m sorry, Sirius. But—I mean maybe he was just caught off guard? Moony is mad about you. It’s not obvious, because he’s not obvious about anything, but anybody who really knows him could tell you that.” James sounded utterly too rational, and Sirius wanted to blow up the phone.
No matter his current feelings, though, it was nice to be able to talk to James about stuff like this now that he had officially “come out” to him, or whatever. It wasn’t that he was keeping it a secret , per se—but it was easier, now that the most important people knew. He had told Mary, too, directly after she came out to him as a lesbian and confessed that she was pathetically in love with her best friend, Lily Evans. Which brought him back to—
“No, no. He knew what I meant. He had this look in his eye when I told him, like, a knowing look. You know.” It stung to say it. Remus knew what Sirius had meant. He just decided he didn’t want him, anyway. No, no . It wasn’t his fault that he wasn’t in love with Sirius. It was just really, very bad. For Sirius. But it wasn’t Remus’ fault. It was just Sirius’ problem.
“I mean, if you’re sure, Pads. I’m sorry. I know what he means to you,” James said. “You want me to come over, so we can talk about it?”
“Nah, I know you’ve got practice. I’ll be alright.” He wouldn’t, but James already knew that, so he didn’t need to say. “You know," he said gravely, "Now that Remus has rejected me, you and I have got to start snogging now."
“Oi, don’t you sound so disappointed! You wish you could snog me.”
“ You wish.”
“Yeah, right.” They both dissolved into laughter.
“You sure you’re alright, mate? What are you going to do tomorrow, you know, when you see him?”
Yes. Sirius had a plan. He had already decided—it was foolproof. He was going to go in the next day and pretend that nothing had happened, keeping an appropriate distance between him and Remus, and if he brought it up, he would laugh, totally unbothered and suave, and sexy , and say that it hadn’t meant anything at all, and promptly exit the premises and find somewhere to feel sorry for himself.
“It’ll be fine. I’ll just be cool.”
“Cool. You’ll be cool.” James sounded disbelieving.
“Er—yeah?” Sirius was fucking aces at being cool, thank you very much.
“Mate, you’ve been gone for Moony for months—you’re not just going to go back to normal immediately. And that’s okay—You don’t have to be.” Ugh. James. Too nice James, who had nice parents, and who was Sirius’ best friend in the whole world. “Remember, with Lily, I thought we were going to be everything, forever. And we weren’t, and that’s okay, and now she’s one of my best friends. But that took awhile, and that's okay as well. The point is, you don’t have to push away your feelings because you think they’re inconvenient.”
James was probably making many great points which Sirius didn’t want to hear at all. “It’s fine. Really.”
“I mean, if you’re sure—”
“I am. Thanks, Prongs.” Sirius hung up the phone.
🕸🕸🕸
“Hey, Reg,” Sirius called upon getting home. No response. Little shit. “Wow. Not even a ‘hello’ for your older brother.”
“Sirius.” Regulus was staring at something on his phone, absorbed. Probably texting that friend of his, something Crouch.
Sirius sighed. He just wanted to go to sleep—scratch that, he wanted to lie in bed and wallow in his heartbreak properly. Could you blame him?
He was brushing his teeth, scrolling through old messages between him and Moony, when Regulus appeared next to him.
“Sirius.” Sirius jumped, getting toothpaste and spit all over his shirt.
“Regulus! Stop doing that, you scared the shit out of me.” Regulus shrugged.
“Language!” called Alphard from the living room.
“Learn to be more observant,” his brother replied. Sirius sighed, but smiled.
Honestly, although he and Regulus had their squabbles now, they really had progressed beyond their worst. It had taken time, and plenty of space from their parents’ house—thank God Alphard had secured custody of the both of them three years ago—and hours of therapy for the both of them, but they were somewhat okay, now. And Sirius was glad.
“I need—I want to talk to you about something,” Regulus said quietly. Oh. He couldn’t remember the last time Regulus had wanted to ‘talk’.
He was seized with sudden concern, imagining the worst possibilities. “What is it? Is everything ok? Mother hasn’t tried to contact—”
“No. Don’t be stupid, Sirius.” There was a pause, where Regulus had closed his eyes, seemingly trying to gather his thoughts. “You know about—about Spiderman, right?”
“You mean, the crime fighting bloke with the webs? Can’t say I’ve heard too much.” Sirius was confused. This was what Regulus wanted to talk about?
“Oh. Okay.” Regulus just stood there. His fingers were twitching.
Sirius prompted, “Why are you asking me about Spiderman?”
Regulus glanced toward the door as if he were about to walk out, then seemed to steel himself. Sirius was beginning to get a bit concerned again. “Regulus?”
Regulus looked at the ceiling, then behind him again, then at Sirius. His hands stopped fidgeting. “He’s your friend, Sirius.”
It took a second for Sirius to work out what he meant, before—“Oh, my God, Regulus. No. I mean, I know you’re into conspiracy theories and stuff, but this has gone too far—”
“I knew you wouldn’t believe me—”
Sirius had to stop himself from laughing, because he was quite sure Regulus would murder him for it if he was being serious. “This is insane—”
“It all adds up, Sirius. I have evidence, I do , and it all leads back to him .” Regulus crossed his arms, and Sirius actually couldn’t tell if he was having him on or if he really believed this.
“You’d think if one of my mates were off fighting crime every day in a red jumpsuit I would bloody well notice— ”
Regulus cut him off. “That’s the whole point, Sirius. God. Nobody knows who he is. He has a secret identity.” Regulus was clearly frustrated that Sirius hadn’t immediately believed his batshit claim, which made the whole thing even funnier.
There was absolutely no way , but Sirius had to know. “And which one of my friends do you suspect?”
“Isn’t it obvious, Sirius?” Regulus stared at him, before sighing. “It’s Potter .”
Oh.
Sirius stopped laughing.
“Regulus.” He made sure his brother was listening before saying, “I know that it seemed like I was choosing James over you back then, when we were still with our parents, but I swear, it wasn’t—”
“Sirius!” Regulus shuddered. “God, it’s not about that . Save it for therapy, Jesus Christ. No. I have proof . It has to be him.”
“Look, Reg,” he said gently, trying not to incur any more of Regulus’ wrath. “James and I tell each other everything. If you want, I’ll even ask to make sure—”
“No! Did you listen to a word I said?” Regulus grabbed his arm, eyes wide. “I’m serious . Don’t you dare make a joke—” Sirius shut his mouth. “If you ask , he’ll know someone’s onto him.”
The thought of James as some sort of secret vigilante was so hilarious that Sirius couldn’t contain his laughter. James couldn’t keep secrets for shit.
“So you want me to what—undercover investigate my best friend?” Sirius raised his eyebrows, and Regulus pursed his lips because that was clearly what he was going to suggest. “Look, I won’t tell him anything, if it would bother you that much, but only because I’m one thousand percent sure that there’s no way I could be friends with fucking Spiderman and not know it.”
“I knew you wouldn’t listen.” Regulus rolled his eyes. “I’m going to bed.”
“Night, Reg!” Sirius called after him.
Then, “I’m bisexual, by the way.”
After a beat, he heard, “Good for you, Sirius. Goodnight.”
🕸🕸🕸
Regulus wasn’t certain of very much. He had learned from a young age that there was no use in expecting more than you would get, or believing in things that weren’t real. But here were the facts:
- Spiderman was caught in action most of the time in the early morning or late evenings, meaning that he was likely a student.
- He had been caught on video multiple times in areas near their school.
- He had been suspiciously absent during Sirius’ friends’ three-week fall camping trip, despite being very regularly videoed before that.
- There were always the same chemicals missing from their school science labs (Regulus had checked), all ingredients to making synthetic spider silk
- After a long process of testing, the traces of chemicals Evan had managed to lift from the underside of James’ desk in chemistry were very similar to the ones that were missing
And, last but not least, well:
- James was … good. Or whatever. He was the type of person to become instant friends with old women at the grocery store, or let Sirius borrow his stuff (even though Sirius never gave anything back, ever), or call the proper fucking authorities when he saw small animals run over on the street. He was just—good, always, in the way that Regulus had never been able to figure out how to be. It was one of the largest reasons he resented him, for all those years, because he just had this thing on him, around him, that brightened people’s days.
And all of this added up to one undeniable fact: that James Potter was Spiderman.
He watched him hand Sirius a pencil in Advanced French (Really?), and thought about just how obvious it was. James Potter, ever the star, always the brightest thing in the room. Of course he had to be a bloody superhero , as well. As if he couldn’t get any more—well. Regulus didn’t understand how Sirius didn’t see it.
Well, if Sirius wasn’t going to investigate, he’d have to. Regulus could be subtle. He’d convinced his homophobic parents that he was straight for fourteen years. He could do this . No problem.
After class, he followed his brother and his friend out to the hallway. “Potter.” Shit. Not loud enough, there was no way that he’d heard, and now he’d have to repeat himself, like a fucking—
“Regulus?” He’d turned all the way around, and Sirius gave Regulus a look that said I know what you’re doing, and I don’t want any part of it, thanks , and kept walking.
Nobody really called Regulus by his name like that. His friends had always used his last name, and to Sirius and his Uncle, it was always “Reggie”. But nobody pronounced his name like that anymore, with all its three syllables.
Regulus tried to remember what he was going to say. He had a plan. He had a plan. He had a—
“Regulus? You wanted to—to talk to me?” James’ eyebrows raised in confusion. Regulus forced his face to its typical negatively-tinged apathy.
He stuck to his plan. “Yes. I’m interested in trying out for the team.”
James looked at him blankly. “Trying out …”
“The team. The football team. The one you’re captain of. I heard Lockhart was injured last game.” James was still staring at him. Well. That was a little offensive of him. Was it really that unbelievable?
James blinked. “ You want to try out—”
“Yes.” Regulus rolled his eyes. James was being incredibly dense.
James kept looking at him, eyebrows raised, until he shook his head like he was realizing something. He was not following the script. James was supposed to say, Wow, that’s great, Regulus! Let me show you to the football field and introduce you to my ten million unbearable football friends! In reality, he looked around, before pulling Regulus back into the empty classroom. He paced back and forth for a few moments, running his hands through his curls.
Regulus rolled his eyes again. “Look, just give me a location and time and—”
“You don’t have to do this, Regulus,” James said, grimacing now. There was his name again.
“What do you mean?” Regulus may have snapped, a little.
“Look, as far as I know, you’ve never been interested in football—” Regulus started to interrupt him, but he just kept going. “I know I’m optimistic, but I’m not delusional. Look, I– I know that you’re trying to repair things with Sirius, which is great, and it’s making him so happy, trust me, I can see it—” James looked up, away from Regulus’ eyes. His next words came out all in a rush. “But you don’t have to suffer through spending time with me just because Sirius and I are best mates. I’d never try to mess up your guys’ relationship, so, you don’t have to worry about that. Or me.” James was now staring at something on the floor.
“Wh–what?” Regulus needed a moment to process that.
“Look, I just– I don’t like pretending. I’d like to keep everything in the open, yeah? And I’d prefer you ignoring me and hating me to you being all uncomfortable like this.” He gestured toward Regulus with that last one, as if it was obvious what Regulus’ feelings were despite his efforts to act normal. That unsettled Regulus, along with everything he’d said about Sirius, but not nearly as much as–
“I don’t—I don’t hate you, James.” His voice came out high and all wrong.
James scoffed, as if he was denying a natural fact of life—the sun rose every morning, his parents adored him, and Regulus Black hated him. “Sure. I’m not that much of an egotist, Regulus. You never want to hang out with Sirius when I’m there—”
“I wasn’t invited— ”
“And don’t say that you were invited, because I watched Sirius ask you last Friday. And the one before that. You never talk to me, and when I try to talk to you, there’s about a 50-50 chance of me getting a one-word response, or no response at all.”
Regulus sputtered. “That’s—that’s not— ”
“Look, I told you. Everything out in the open, right?” James smiled again, but his eyes were still downcast. “I’m not that self-absorbed that I can’t handle somebody not liking me. Believe it or not, it does happen once in a while.” James chuckled, but it felt forced. “Not your fault. I’ll get over it.” He picked up his bag and checked his watch. “Nice talking to you, Reg—”
“ No .” Regulus didn’t know why, but it was suddenly the most important thing in the world right then to stop James from leaving, from calling him by his entire name again , from talking in that way like he was upset, but trying to hold it together for Regulus ’ sake, of all people. He took James’ wrist in his hand, and James’ eyes widened at him.
“I don’t hate you, James. I—” He cursed his inability to articulate what he was trying to say. James had stopped moving, staring at Regulus’ hand on his arm. Regulus had no idea what to say now to convince him, though.
“I don’t hate you,” he repeated, somehow having lost all his other words. He realized he was still holding James' wrist, squeezing it a bit, now, and he let go, shoving his hand back in his pocket. It forced James to look back at his face, and he must’ve seen something there, only God knew what, because he smiled softly at Regulus. This smile was unlike all the other ones before, and it made something rise in his throat, forcing him to swallow.
It felt like a reward.
“Tomorrow, on the field at 6 AM. Good?”
Regulus startled for a moment, having forgotten the purpose of their conversation. “I—what? Oh. Sure.” James’ smile grew from something soft to something immense and warm, making Regulus irrationally want to move out of the way of it, in case he got burned.
“See you around, Regulus.” He winked and vanished from the room. Regulus had to take a second, annoyed that James had managed to affect him like this for some inexplicable reason.
🕸🕸🕸
Sirius was avoiding him, and Remus couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. It wasn’t so noticeable at first, because Sirius was always running from place-to-place, never content to stay put for long.
However, when Remus had gone to sit on the bleachers with James, Sirius, and Lily at lunch, he had quite literally jumped away and near-ran all the way across the football field to get away from him, muttering some excuse about homework without meeting Remus’ eyes.
Remus had spent the morning ignoring the very worst-case scenario, which was that Sirius was avoiding him because Remus had made his feelings painfully clear yesterday, and now felt intensely uncomfortable being within a five-foot radius of him, and wanted to end their friendship immediately. He fidgeted with his hands.
“Does Sirius have a problem?” he finally worked up the courage to ask James.
James looked back from where he was staring intently behind the bleachers at someone whom Remus didn’t care to look for. “What? Oh, I mean. I don’t know. I just think the two of you need to have a real conversation. Sounds to me like it all happened and you just—well, you just left.”
Well, it’s not like he had a bloody choice, did he? And—oh, no. “Sirius said something happened?”
James grimaced at Remus. “Yeah. He did.”
Fuck. So, confirmed. Sirius had read their interaction and figured that Remus was infatuated with him, and probably never wanted to talk to Remus again. “Oh.”
James must have seen his face crumble, because he followed up with, “I know it’s probably weird for you both, but I know you’ll work through this. You two are friends, above all other things. Sirius knows that, Moony, I promise. I really do think you two just need to talk properly.”
Remus rolled his eyes. Yeah, that might work if he could get Sirius alone for a single minute before he ran away from him, again.
And—well, it wasn’t even that Remus was disappointed that Sirius didn’t want him back, because that had always been a given, at least to him. He just wanted his friend back.
By the end of the day, Remus had had enough. Sirius was talking to James about something or other in the hallway, looking anxious. His eyed flickered over to Remus, then, panicked, back to James. Were they talking about him ? Well, screw that. Sirius could talk to Remus about whatever he had to say about him. What was it James had said? They were friends, above all things. And Remus was sick of this. And maybe he missed Sirius a little. Whatever.
“Sirius.” He came up behind both of them.
Sirius jerked at his voice, then grabbed his stuff, and without looking at him, said, “Oh, sorry Moony! Gotta go, um, catch a show.”
Remus took his arm, not firmly, but not gently either, enough to make him stop. “No, Sirius. We’re talking. Now.” For a moment, he still wasn’t sure if Sirius would give in, but James basically pushed Sirius toward him and walked away from the both of them.
Sirius stared at him, his throat bobbing. “Ok.”
Remus dragged Sirius into an empty classroom, the first one he found, and shut the door behind them so that Sirius was standing against the door while Remus faced him. Sirius’ eyes kept wandering back and forth and up, anywhere but at Remus’ face. He was rocking back and forth on his heels. “Er, you wanted to–”
“You’re avoiding me,” Remus accused.
Sirius flinched, his mouth opening and closing. His eyes met Remus’ for a brief moment before flicking back to the ceiling.
“I—” Sirius started, but seemed to be at a loss. Honestly. This was rather ridiculous. It’s not like Sirius could blame Remus for—whatever he felt about him. He didn’t choose it.
Sirius didn’t seem like he would start engaging anytime soon, so Remus just started. “Look, Sirius, I—I know you probably think yesterday changed things between us. But, I mean, it doesn’t matter, at least to me . I just don’t want to lose you, ok? You—it means a lot to me, our friendship. So, can’t we just—I don’t know, can’t we just pretend it didn’t happen? Please?” And Remus had just about lost all his dignity, internally begging for Sirius to just look at him, just look at him, God, please.
Sirius closed his eyes, his shoulders drooping, staying silent for a long time. He coughed, and finally– finally meeting Remus’ gaze, giving him a wide grin that Remus saw through in an instant, but was still miles better than the silence. “Yeah, sure, Moony,” he said softly.
Remus wilted a little in relief, and then Sirius said, hesitantly, “Do you mind, um. I just—I really do have to catch the show.”
“Oh, yeah,” Remus said a little awkwardly, moving back, realizing that he was crowding Sirius against the door a little.
🕸🕸🕸
Later that afternoon, he was knocking on the threshold of his and his father’s flat to let him know he was home. “Hey, dad,” he also said when he entered.
His father was sitting on the couch, unresponsive to his entrance. He was staring blankly at the crossword on the daily newspaper, a pencil held loosely in his left hand. He had been like this the past few weeks after his sister’s death—unresponsive, numb, barely able to get up to drink the tea Remus makes for him every morning. It was like the grief was settling into his bones. Remus sighed, and went to sit in his room, almost texting James and then deciding not to.
He lifted his shirt and removed the day-old bandage on his torso. It wasn’t anything bad, really. He’d been chasing down this man who’d stolen some lady’s wallet, and the bloke caught him by surprise—punched him clear in the throat, leaving a nasty bruise, and stabbed him a little before he got his breath back. He had managed to retrieve the wallet, though.
He learned the hard way a long time ago that just because he was stronger and faster from the spider bite, it didn’t automatically mean he would win every fight; especially against multiple attackers. So, he learned. He improved. And fights like the one a couple days ago were few and far between.
He grabbed the medical kit he kept under his bed for moments like this, first cleaning and applying anti-infectant before finding a replacement bandage. He wrapped the bandage around himself carefully, wincing a little at the still-present sting. When he was done, he laid back on his sheets.
He allowed himself to feel pitiful just for a few moments. Lily texted him, asking where he had disappeared yesterday, and he had to make something up about dinner out with his dad. He sighed, exhausted. Sometimes Remus wished he didn’t have so many secrets.