Chapter Text
James was on the sofa, giving Sirius a somewhat withering glare, and Peter was sat at the small, round table trying not to catch anyone’s attention. The large telly in the background was playing the latest gossip, all of which had to deal with Sirius Black and his current conquest. A scandal, of course, because they were both what the public considered Hollywood Royalty, and devastated by the alleged break-up.
“We can’t keep doing this, you realise,” James said, glancing over at Regulus who hadn’t looked up from his mobile. With a frustrated growl, James balled up the paper sat in front of him, and lobbed it at the Younger. It smacked him right upside the head, and he looked up, a mildly irritated look on his face. “Isn’t this part of your job?”
“Controlling him?” Regulus asked, jutting his chin at his brother. “What the ruddy, shitting hell ever made you think I could?”
“Isn’t that why we hired you?” James mumbled.
“Well it was before you became actually famous,” Regulus pointed out, his attention right back to his mobile. “And I was just trying to make sure my brother didn’t go and do something stupid. Like get himself killed or…lose his fashion sense or something.”
Sirius laughed, sticking one of his clunky motorbike boots up on the table as he leant back in the chair. He picked at the chipped polish on his thumbnail and grimaced. “I need a manicure.”
“Sweet fucking Persephone give me strength,” James breathed.
Sirius smiled, all teeth. “Listen, first of all I didn’t actually have an affair with her. I’m fucking gay. Like the gayest gay who has ever gayed. Everyone knows it. Secondly, she was bored and we had like four drinks and I snogged her a little because I just wanted to check.”
“Check what?” James asked, his parent-y tone seeping into his voice and he tried to control it. Harry was at home with Lily and he was not Sirius’ father, as much as he felt like it sometimes.
“If snogging girls was still shit.” Sirius dropped his boot and leant forward toward James. “For the record—it was.”
“Yes. We know,” Peter added unhelpfully, “because you told everyone on twitter.”
“Oh sod everyone,” Sirius said, flapping his hand at both his bandmates. “Look, are you really going to make a big deal out of this?” Sirius sat back and glanced at his nails again. “Reg, my sweet darling, adorable little brother, see if they have a manicure service that can be sent up to the room. I don’t want to get to the set early tomorrow.”
“The set tomorrow,” James said through gritted teeth, “is why it’s a big deal. Do you realise they’re going to ask you about it? And they’re going to expect and explanation.”
“And when have I bowed to the media, James? When have I bothered to cater to those fucking white, hetero, cis-normative shitbags who view me as some sort of token trans person? They’re going to ask me about Kellie, then they’re going to bring up the fact that I’m brave for being fucking rich and famous and refusing top surgery and not passing like they want me to pass. So fuck them.”
James deflated almost immediately, and settled for pinching the bridge of his nose under his glasses. “You know I’m not going to argue that. You know I hate them just as much as you do. However, we’re on a press tour, then we’re on our major six month tour, and then we have to go home and record and I don’t fancy you having another strop about everything and spiral.”
“I do not spiral,” Sirius replied.
“You do a little,” Peter added.
“Wormtail…sod off,” Sirius snapped.
James looked over at Regulus who had just ordered Sirius’ manicure. “Really? You can’t do anything about this? Do you recall how exhausting our last tour was.”
Regulus actually had an expression at that question, and he gave a withering sigh. “Don’t famous people have like…PR people. Isn’t your wife the head of a PR firm?” Regulus asked.
“Yes,” James said, his tone still tense. “Only no one wants to work with Sirius.”
“Intimidated by my criminal good looks and animal magnetism,” Sirius said.
“Yes, sure. That,” James said. “Point being…”
“Ask her again,” Regulus said. “Otherwise you’re just going to have to deal with it.” With that, Regulus rose and gave James’ head a pat. “If you need me…”
“We won’t,” James grumbled. “Bloody useless manager. What’s the fucking point.”
Sirius laughed again and jumped up from his chair, plopping himself directly on James’ lap. He grabbed his best mate by both cheeks and kissed him very softly on the mouth. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Yes, my love,” James said, his voice softer than before. He ran his hands over the back of Sirius’ french plait, then kissed the tip of his nose. “Yes you do. Because I cannot take it anymore.”
Sirius nuzzled James’ neck, then rose. “Suit yourself. But people don’t want to work with me for a reason. No one can handle me.”
James set his jaw, bound and determined. “I’ll find someone. I swear I will.”
Sirius winked as he reached the door. “You tell yourself that, darling. Meanwhile, I’ll be off being pampered. You know where to find me if you need me.”
When the door slammed, James turned to Peter and shook his head. “Doomed?”
Peter nodded, leaning his head on the table. “Double doomed.”
***
Lily tried to ignore the messages as she sat behind her desk, pinching the bridge of her nose. How she’d ended up where she was today was a mystery to her. One she wasn’t sure she wanted to solve. Never in a million years, in a million different universes, did she think she’d be married to James Potter.
Mother to his child.
Running a PR firm because it was the only thing she could do considering somehow her husband and his best mates from school managed to turn their shite little indie-punk-techno whatever band into something people actually wanted to listen to. She could recall at school hearing their sound and it made her laugh until she cried because she swore the pair of them were Ross from Friends with his keyboard and funky noises.
But then one day they played Frank’s birthday party for twenty quid and a bottle of the local’s whiskey which Frank had access too since he worked down at the village on weekends. He was also able to book the gig.
And hell. They were good. Even she had to admit that.
It certainly was something, seeing James and Sirius up on the stage, each holding a mic, their voices rising and falling in tandem. She sure as hell hadn’t realised James could sing, that was for damned sure. He’d gone all out—and it was just gone the turn of the century which meant he’d escaped the hideous boy-band, baggy jeans and bowl-cut hair, which perhaps lent itself to why she’d fallen so hard for the prat she’d been avoiding all these years.
Maybe it was also that he and Sirius were so in sync with their moves. Like they’d rehearsed them—and probably they had at least a little. But no one else in the school could achieve such symmetry and as much as she hated to admit it, it was dead sexy.
Of course James was more reserved than Sirius, the latter preferring to engage the crowd, to rock his slender hips and show off his tight, well-formed calves in his leggings long before they became an actual trend. James would rock his body in time to the techno beat they had blaring out of the speakers in time to Peter’s rough drums, holding on to the mic as though it was the only thing keeping him upright.
Lily could see the appeal of the pair. James and Sirius. Sirius and James. If Sirius hadn’t been a raging queer, she might have considered going after him at one point.
But it was James she’d fallen for.
It was James she’s fucked on the football pitch six weeks before they took their exams. Their exams—the day she also learnt she was pregnant but of course she kept that to herself until it was over and the boys were all getting pissed and she, who could and often did drink them under the table, refused to have even a single drop.
Sirius worked it out first, grabbing her by her lower belly as they were sat on the sofa of his newly acquired London flat. “You’ve got a little surprise in this uterus, babe?”
Lily’s pink cheeks gave it all away as Sirius crowed a laugh. She looked at James who was staring at her, half-wankered, mouth hanging open. “Fuck,” was all she could whisper. James was on his feet, hand in his hair, fumbling for his smokes and the door to the terrace. She knew she should go after him, but she couldn’t get her legs to work.
“You know, there’s jabs to prevent this. Pills, even,” Sirius said. “I, myself, take some every month.”
Lily rolled her eyes, shoving Sirius’ hand away. “Yes but that’s because you’re a fucking boy with a uterus, and I am a girl with a uterus.”
Sirius rolled his eyes. “There’s still birth control.” She started to get up, but Sirius grabbed her hand and pulled her back down. “Give him long enough to finish that smoke, alright? He’ll be excited.”
“How?” she demanded. “How the bloody fuck is he going to be excited about the prospect of teen pregnancy?”
“Because like so many other things,” Sirius said levelly, “teen pregnancy carries a societal stigma assuming teens are incapable of being responsible parents. Which is a lie.”
“You read that off a facebook meme?” Lily demanded, giving in to her irritation and fear because she was nineteen and about to become a mother, for Christ’s sake.
“I’m socially aware,” he said flippantly, and pulled her in to kiss her cheek. “Whatever happens, I love you.”
Lily felt her shoulders deflate a little. “Thanks. But will he?”
“You asking me if creating a mini-James isn’t going to make him the happiest fucking shithead on the planet?” Sirius asked with a laugh. “He’s going to write a hundred songs about that kid.”
In the end, once Lily was sure she didn’t want James to give up the band, nor did she expect him to be there once The Marauders actually took off and started getting popular—and once he realised she was still his Lily who had her own ideas and own life which just happened to be complimenting his own, it was alright.
They even asked Sirius to be Harry’s godfather when he was born.
They spent Harry’s first six months of his life in Bangladesh where James’ parents had decided to finally retire, and then The Marauders went on tour, and Lily went to University.
Now she was somehow the head of this PR firm and mostly she was happy. Except with this Herculean task of finding someone who would, essentially, agree to babysit Sirius and for the first time in the five years they’d been properly signed and touring with a big music label, attempt to head-off any potential scandal.
Which was stupid, because scandal was Sirius Black’s religion.
A stark contrast to the Black family religion which Sirius loved to talk about. How his mother had met Orion Black when he’d gone to Thailand and immediately fell in love—though he didn’t entirely tell it that way. Something about how Orion’s deep-rooted English desire to colonise everything he came into contact with, and how is delicate Christian sensibilities led him to converting his wife to the Anglican Church where they were quickly married and settled in Chelsea.
“I only know Thai because she used to scream it at me when I was a child,” Sirius once told a candid interviewer on some American chat show. “So mostly I know the swears. Not very Christian-like, let me tell you. But it was helpful to know what she was shouting at me as she kicked me out of the house and insisted I never darken their doorstep again.”
“And that’s when you went to live with your bandmate, James?”
“Mm,” Sirius said, grinning his wicked-sharp smile at her which made a blush rise high in her cheeks. It was always a mystery to people who really knew Sirius how he could charm so many with just a look. Then again it had worked on them once, just in different ways. At least, it had been that way for Lily. “The Potters took me in as their own, of course. No questions, just open arms. They’d always been really good about everything.”
“You’ve been very open about the fact that around sixteen you were openly trans,” the interviewer said, stumbling over the words a little, but Sirius didn’t lose his patient smile. “Were they accepting?”
“Course. Then again, they didn’t know me as different, you know.” Sirius waved his hand impatiently. “I don’t think it would have bothered them even if they had, but it’s hard for me to remember a time I’d ever call myself pre-transition. I knew I was a boy from a very early age.”
They went on to talk about the stories Lily had heard once the rumour had hit the school about Sirius. James and Sirius had been in several fist-fights after that, and Lily stopped talking to her once-best friend Severus who started the whole thing because, it turned out, he was a bit of a bigot and how the hell was she supposed to abide by something like that?
So this was her life now. Lily Evans—she’d never got round to changing her name and didn’t want to, even though she did enjoy being married to James and loved the Potters as much as she loved her own family. Successful business, successful mother, successful spouse and friend.
Unsuccessful because not a single agent in her firm was willing to take on this contract.
Except maybe one.
Remus Lupin, who had just been hired on.
Remus had been recommended to Lily by Alice, an old school mate of theirs who rang Lily up once a month for lunch and a chat about mothering and anything that wasn’t talking about James Potter, Sirius Black, or Peter Pettigrew. Alice was one of the few who could remind Lily what it was like to have some idea of normalcy, even if it was whislt they were ignoring paparazzi stood at the window snapping photos which would, inevitably, end up on some skeezy website a few hours from then.
“You remember him?” Alice asked over their coffees. “He was that Welsh bloke.”
Lily shook her head. The name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t put a face to it. “We knew him at Hogwarts?”
“Briefly. Pretty sure he was in the boys’ dorm, so maybe James and Sirius remember better than you. He didn’t stay long. He had a funny accent on account he spent a lot of time in Tel Aviv?”
It was coming back to her now. Remus, a very quiet boy with very dark, wild curls, intense eyes, a fantastically large nose, and slight overbite. He was taller than all the lads, including James whose height was fairly impressive even now. He’d come to school in funky, second-hand clothes, and even donned a yarmulke because his parents were strict Orthodox. She remembered now, what a big to-do it was because Remus had politely—very quietly—asked for Kosher accommodations to be made in the kitchens and everyone but the Headmaster had seemed to think it was outrageous and unreasonable.
Remus hadn’t stayed long, not through sixth form.
Something happened and he’d disappeared.
She said as much to Alice who sighed. “His mum died. His dad whisked him back off to Tel Aviv and he finished school there. Uni as well. We kept in touch through email. When his dad died, he inherited the property in Cardiff and moved back. Been working there for a while, but he’s in London now and he’s got a degree and everything. Let me get you his CV, yeah? Just give it a look?”
How could she say no?
And for his part, Remus’ CV was impressive enough that she offered him a job before the interview began.
“I’m not sure you remember me,” she said as he took a seat in her office.
With a polite chuckle, Remus shook his head. “Of course I remember you. Lily Evans. James Potter was the bane of your existence.”
His accent was nice, she mused. Almost soothing in a way. And she thought it was hilarious that, of all things, that’s what he remembered. “And how far I’ve fallen.”
Remus laughed. “I always thought he was nice. We didn’t get to talking much, of course. But I knew under that big head was a decent sort.”
“Yeah well, that remains to be seen,” she replied with a wink.
They caught up a bit, he accepted the job, and so far it had been very good. In fact, they became rather fast friends which Lily appreciated. Remus was fairly mild-mannered, though had a sharp tongue and quick wit which was necessary in the business. But he was an open book, at least with nearly everything, and at least with her.
Peering out her office window, she chuckled at the sight of Mary leant over Remus’ desk, chatting away with that smile on her face. Over the last three months Lily learnt Remus was openly gay, though never spoke about it to workmates, which was likely why Mary thought she had a chance with him.
Lily also learnt he had MS, something he’d been dealing with for the last three years and did well on his medication. Time off would be necessary but with someone like Remus, she was happy to give it without question.
Really, she thought as she sat there, thumbing the rim of her mug which held her now-cold tea, the only thing she had to do was convince him.
With a sigh, Lily pushed herself up from the desk and opened her office door. Mary gave her a somewhat startled look before rushing off and when Remus made eye contact, Lily rolled her eyes. “Lunch? I’m starving.”
Remus shrugged. “Alright. You want to order in, or brave the outdoors after that report last night.”
Lily fought back the urge to rub her eyes. James begged her to stay away from celebrity gossip, but as half her clients relied on her knowing what was what, she couldn’t that. And of course, of bloody course, Sirius Black’s alleged break-up was trending on twitter.
“I will kill him,” Lily said when James rang her that evening to say goodnight to her and Harry. “I mean, he’s replaceable.”
“Yeah, except he knows he’s not,” James said tiredly.
That’s when the subject of her trying harder to find a PR assistant came up and now she was going to try and seduce Remus with a huge pay rise and promise of decent friendship or…or whatever it was he asked for.
“Let’s just go down to that little chippy, the one we can get to from the alley. I seriously need something fried.”
Remus shrugged and agreed. He was vegan, but the chippy offered a decent variety of veg dishes and he pretended that there wasn’t cross contamination in the fry oil. “I cheat,” he said to Lily the first time they’d gone out, and he helped himself to a bit of cake which had plenty of milk and eggs and butter in the recipe.
“What about the Kosher thing?”
“Well considering I’m a rampant Atheist who celebrates the High Holy Days by habit not belief,” he said, and trailed off with a shrug.
She laughed and ruffled his hair. “Miss that little yarmulke of yours though.”
“Oh fuck off.” He grinned though, and she thought maybe it was the moment their friendship was solidified.
The pair of them managed to sneak out the back, round the corner and slipped into the chippy without being noticed. She knew the photographers wouldn’t be hounding her until there was more drama and confirmation of Sirius’ antics. They had a chat show that morning where they would be performing one of their newest singles, and then the tour would begin in a week. That’s when the drama would begin, inevitably—and Lily just had to convince Remus and get him out there and on the bus before it left.
They snagged a table near the kitchens, far from the windows, and Lily went up to place their orders. When she came back, a couple of fizzy lemon waters in chilled glass bottles, she levelled a look at him. “So. Remus. Are you happy with your job?”
He gave her a withering look. “Why don’t you just out with it, Lily. You’re no good at this whole chat-up small talk.”
Her cheeks pinked, and she rubbed her face. “I’m prepared to offer you an obscene salary and let you bribe me for nearly anything—including my first born if you want him—if you’ll take the Marauders on as a client.”
He barked a laugh. “Me?”
“Because it’s a job you’d need to do er…on the road. With them. It’s not even the Marauders. It’s…”
“Sirius,” Remus said softly. He shook his head. “That is a hopeless cause.”
“Not necessarily,” she argued. “It’s only, previously all my agents give up at the first bit of trouble and…”
“First bit of trouble. You mean Sirius’ rather effective decision to run them off. I wasn’t exactly mates with them at school, but I recall what it was like if you got on James or Sirius’ bad side.”
“They’re not fifteen anymore,” Lily groaned, begging the universe to just give her a sodding break for once.
“No. They’re now twenty-seven and very rich and famous and I happen to know what that does to a bloke’s head.” Remus sighed, uncapping his water to take a long drink. The food was ready, and the pair sat in silence for some time, picking at their lunch. “Do they know you might be sending er…someone?”
“James is the one who requested it.”
Remus groaned. “You want me to tour with them. As in trapped on a bus, trying to mind Sirius Black and keep him from doing anything scandalous—in spite of the fact that scandal is what literally keeps him alive. Like the sun and food and fucking.”
“You’d be surprised at how little he does the latter,” Lily said dryly. “He’s more about the rumour than the actual act.”
Remus shrugged. “Fine. That’s not entirely the point though, is it. He’s going to run me off and as much as I want to, I’m not always entirely well.”
Lily gave him a short look, then reached across the table to palm his cheek. “Please. Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”
“I’m your only hope,” he finished in a tone as dry as the deep desert.
“Just give it the old Gryffindor try, yeah? For me? Because I’m a lovely friend and I can make you rich beyond your wildest imagination. Or…close to it, anyway.”
Remus groaned, but by the look on his face, she saw he was going to give in. She could cry, really. It wasn’t the first time she’d sent someone out to her boys, but Remus was made of sturdier stuff, and she told him as much.
Rolling his eyes, he sighed. “When do I leave?”
“Three days,” Lily said, trying to control her voice. “Harry and I will be coming out when they get to LA, so I’ll check on your progress then. And you know you can phone me at any hour. And if anything comes up, health-wise, you know you can come home.”
Remus let out a small breath. “Alright. But you owe me. I’m not even going to say what yet, because I’m going to come up with something really good. And unpleasant.”
Lily laughed. “If you can make him even sort of behave for one whole tour, I’ll do anything you ask. I swear.”
“Oh,” Remus said, meeting her gaze. “I know.”
***
“I can’t believe you did it.” They’d just come off the interview portion of their morning, and they were now in make-up. Sirius was sat in front of the mirror, facing off to the side as the make-up artist for the show painted a long stripe of black across his eyelid. “A fucking babysitter. I’m going to make you regret this, James Potter.”
“It’s not a babysitter, it’s someone to help with damage control,” James said. His make-up had always been minimalist, to go with what Sirius called his rugby reject aesthetic. James was currently in a pair of form-fitted jeans with carefully designed rips across the thighs, and a tight black t-shirt with an orange Phoenix on the front. His eyes had one smear of black kohl across his lower lid, a few brushes of heavy powder to take care of any shine, and just a smudge of gloss across his lips which he hated.
Sirius was far more glammed up, orange and red shadow across his lids to match James’ shirt, his hair swept into an intricate top-knot, a violent, dark purple lipstick smeared over his full mouth. He was wearing leather trousers today, instead of his customary leggings, and a flowing, sheer lavender tunic-like shirt which came just below the elbows, showing off the tattoos along his left arm.
They hadn’t seen Peter yet, who was likely getting their sound set-up, but more than likely he was in his usual baggy jeans, button-up black shirt, and woolly beanie. He’d always rejected the idea of make-up, though could be talked into it when they were doing music videos. But he was the brains of the operation, taking care of all their beats, and played at least nine different instruments on their track, including all the strings, so none of them were hard pressed to be fussed about his appearance on stage.
“Listen,” James said, when it was clear Sirius’ pout was not going away any time soon, “will you please just be a professional for once.”
Sirius pulled away from the make-up artist to give James a withering glare. “When am I not?”
“Do you want an answer to that, Sirius. Because I’ve kept a list. Detailed. With times and dates and…”
“Fuck you, Potter.”
James chuckled, and moved to take the make-up artist’s place when Sirius was finally finished. Taking care not to disturb anything, James cupped the sides of Sirius’ neck, and stroked his thumb against the skin. “I love you, Padfoot. And I know you’re…I know none of this is easy for you. Having people digging into your past, your family, your love life. I know it’s not easy having people ask you about your anatomy like they have some fucking right to know, like it somehow matters…” James’ voice went hard and frustrated with that last, and he cleared his throat and took a breath. “I get why you want to rage against the establishment, to fuck with the media. But it’s not making it easier on anyone. Not you. Not me and Pete. Not Lily, or even on Harry.”
Sirius winced at the memory of his godson having once been accosted by some uppity reporter who decided to stalk the boy at his school and attempt to get an exclusive during his lunch.
Of course both the reporter and the publication had been sued, and their reputations dragged within an inch of their lives—Sirius was fairly sure she wasn’t working anywhere near journalism and the website had been shut down. But it reminded him that his actions sometimes did have consequences and he most certainly didn’t need some blonde bitch with a pink iPhone asking a nine year old boy what his godfather had on under those trousers. And what he did with it on his free weekends.
Sighing, Sirius leant forward and wrapped his arms round James, pressing his cheek to the smooth design on the front of the shirt. “I know. I’m sorry I just…”
“I know,” James repeated back to him. “Come on, we’re due for sound check in a few minutes and you know how Peter gets if we’re late.”
Sirius hopped off the chair, then checked over his appearance one last time before letting James’ fingers twin with his, and they headed for the main stage.
It was New York, and it was autumn, so it was chilly but not unbearable. The Marauders were on their US tour, spending more time in the States than Sirius ever had a mind to do. A few morning chat shows, a couple of late-night ones, then they’d hit the road, play their sold-out shows at the major cities across the country before heading home.
He was looking forward to something more routine, of course. Of going in for the day to write and record, then to slip into his comfortable bed in his flat and sleep without the sound of the road and the lumpy caravan mattress under his back. Not that what they had wasn’t the most posh. Sirius was and always had been a rather spoilt brat, but it wasn’t home.
And he knew he was acting out, but it was hard to help it some days. All he had were James, Peter, Lily, and Harry, and two of the four were stationary in London where he couldn’t see them whenever he wanted. Regulus, of course, was always round, but his relationship with his brother remained strained since the falling out with his parents.
The three years his brother had shunned him weighed heavy, and he would never love anyone and want to protect anyone the way he did with Reg, the trust wasn’t ever going to be there. Not the way it was with James or Peter. James and Peter, who had always accepted him for who he was, never tried to misgender him when the small, eleven year old held up his chin and said, “I’m a boy.”
James, who had shrugged one shoulder, then slung his arm round Sirius and said, “So you reckon you’ll try out for rugby or footie?” Then didn’t bother to take the piss or question him when Sirius decided that he was interested in neither.
Peter, who had stolen fashion magazines off his mum for Sirius when he was experimenting with his glam-goth phase, had never suggested he “just be a girl,”. And Peter who had never really stood up for anything in his life was the first to take a swing when Snape and his mates started spreading rumours about Sirius.
Loyalty for Sirius was hard to come by, but it ran deep. And it was unwavering. Which was, perhaps, why he was so resistant to the idea of someone else coming on board to disrupt their small community. Sirius didn’t let people in easy, and he wasn’t interested in getting to know anyone else.
“You’re late,” Peter whinged a bit, giving the pair of them a shove toward the doors. The cameras were set up, and there was a massive crowd outside. The blonde lady who had interviewed them earlier was smiling, waving them out, and Sirius rolled his eyes a bit as James shuffled forward.
“Excellent, right on time,” she muttered, giving them a once-over with her small eyes. “I’m going to introduce your set, then you’ll play. I think only about two minutes will be live, then we’ll cut for ads and after we’ll have a short recap before moving on and you’ll be free to go.”
Sirius grimaced, but James nodded, his soft, placating smile making the woman’s shoulder’s relax. He leant back against Sirius. “Not long now, then we’ll be heading back to the hotel.”
Sirius huffed, but put his hand at James’ hip and squeezed it. “Yeah, alright. But we’re finding some way to go out tonight. It’s New York so there’s gotta be some place.”
“You’re going to kill me, Pads,” James said as they were now being directed to the stage.
Sirius grinned. “But you love me.” He adjusted the stand on his mic, wishing a little he had a headset instead as his body was thrumming with energy and he wanted to dance. But it would do for now. Peter had turned everything over to the studio DJ who was managing their tracks, and he took a seat at the drums, twirling the sticks in his hands for a moment as he smiled at his two bandmates.
Sirius glanced over at James who was gripping the top of his mic with one hand, then looked over at Sirius with a wink. Sirius nodded, then looked back out to the crowd which was screaming and holding up signs with various messages, phone numbers, emails, photos they’d printed off the web. All of it standard fare, and all of it giving Sirius a huge rush of ego and pride.
They had done this on their own. They had cultivated and grown their fame and talent and he would be nothing other than proud of himself. He refused to give in to the critics who accused him and James of using their connections and money to buy their fame. He knew how hard they worked, how many hours they stayed up writing songs, developing their own unique sound so they’d stand out. Only they had the memories of playing the shitty little pubs and doing gigs for pints and chips and a whisper of a hope that someone would notice that they deserved it.
It was a double-edged sword.
Sirius had always buckled under scrutiny. He had worked hard to be where he was with himself and it wasn’t easy to bear the brunt of being trans and famous. The constant questions, learning how to cleverly deflect questions about surgery and genitals and misgendering. How many times he went home and curled up under his covers after enduring, “So when you were a girl,” from people who really didn’t care at all.
It was lonely. Achingly, powerfully lonely.
“…without further ado, The Marauders, playing their current hit single, Sing for the Stars.”
The beat began, and all thoughts of anything but the music were gone. Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius could see James moving in time with him, in sync as they had always done. His feet were shifting back and forth, one hand bracing himself on the mic, head tipped down as it rocked from side to side.
The words were building in his chest as Peter’s drumbeat counted them in. He took a breath, and didn’t even need to look over at James to know they were together. They were one in the music. Sirius’ voice melded with James’ and the words came out, and he was gone.
***
“Christ that was exhausting.” Sirius pulled a face at James who was swiping at his skin with make-up remover. He batted his friend away, but James—having gone through the motions with his son—ignored Sirius and got the singer’s face clean. “When is this babysitter getting here?”
“He’s not a babysitter,” James said absently, binning the wipe. “He’s a PR agent. And he should be here sometime tomorrow evening. Lily’s arranged his flight and she thinks we’ll all get on really well. Apparently he was at Hogwarts with us.”
Sirius froze, turning slowly. “What? Like…in our year? In our house?”
“Mm Hufflepuff, I think? Or Ravenclaw. I forgot to ask. Name sounds familiar though.” James thumbed through his mobile. “Er. Lupin. Remus Lupin?”
“Lupin?” Peter picked his head up from under the pillow he was pressing over his face. “He was in our house. In our year.”
“Our dorm?” Sirius asked.
“No, he was only there for a couple of years. I think he came in third, left right after GCSEs.” Peter leant his head on his hand, elbow propping himself up on the bed. “You really don’t remember him? Bit barmy, made that big deal about kosher meals in the kitchens.”
James’ eyes widened. “Oh my god. The one Snape…” He trailed off and Sirius was struck hard with the reminder.
“We never got friendly, but I remember that,” he said quietly. “Was he alright?”
“Think so,” James said with a shrug. “I feel like a right arse that he didn’t make a bigger impression on me.”
“I think that was the point. Why he was so quiet,” Peter said. His mobile began to buzz, and he sighed. “Gonna take this. See you lads in the morning, yeah?”
James waved him off, and when Peter was gone, he flopped down on the bed as Sirius sat up, struggling out of his shirt. “Help a bloke out?” he said with a small pout, flicking at the edge of his binder.
James rolled his eyes, but sat up and patiently wriggled his fingers under the tight material, letting Sirius shimmy a little until it loosened. Then Sirius lifted his arms as James pulled it off, and he let out a huge groan of relief, flopping onto his stomach.
Reaching over, James kneaded at the skin gently, easing out the tense muscles from the tight binder and from being on stage and in front of cameras all day. Sirius groaned into the pillow, turning his face to bat his eyelashes at James.
“Told you how much I loved you?”
James snickered. “Not lately. But I think I’ve worked it out after all these years.”
“Mm, good.” Sirius snuffled into his pillow a little, shifting closer to James and smiling when his friend pressed a soft kiss to his temple. “So Lupin. And Lily reckons he’s alright?”
“You know she wouldn’t send anyone awful on the road with us,” James reminded him.
Sirius took a breath. “I know. And I’m trying not to be unreasonable. I promise I am.”
“I know, love.” James moved his hand into Sirius’ hair and began to stroke it until the singer started to drop off into a slumber. “Get some rest, alright. We’ll get it all sorted in the morning.”
Sirius snuffled into his pillow again, and before long, he was out.
***
Remus did not enjoy his flight to New York. He didn’t enjoy flying at all, honestly. He preferred to have his two legs on the ground and not hurtling through the air unnaturally in a giant mass of metal. But he was doing this for Lily. Well, he was doing it for Lily and the massive pay rise which could really only help things if his MS progressed to a state where he couldn’t work at all. Not something he actively thought about, but something always in the back of his mind, especially when he had bad days.
Like today.
Which was just his luck, really.
It started with the cognitive lapses. He was attempting to check in for his flight and couldn’t remember what he was supposed to do once he got up to the counter. The ticket agent was unerringly patient with him, however, and eventually he remembered to check his luggage and pay for the flight, and take his boarding pass to security.
When he sat, his feet began to prickle violently, and the muscles in his thighs felt like they were going to give out. It spread to his hands, making it nearly impossible to grip his coffee, but there was an hour before he had to board, and by the time his seat was called up, he was feeling a little better. Tired, but ready to just get the flight over with and be back on the ground.
It was too long, but smooth for the most part, which left the feeling of hurtling into the ocean in a ball of screaming bodies and flames tucked into the back of his mind, and he actually got a little bit of sleep after they served what could barely be described as a meal. The vegan option was really just horror in a small, plastic rectangle, so he opted for a glass of juice and the promise of a good, hearty, over-large American meal the moment he was on the ground.
He counted himself lucky to have taken a fairly empty flight which left him without a seat partner, and the ability to look out the window whenever he fancied.
He arrived at JFK completely shattered and convinced his body was going to give out on him. But he made it to the baggage claim where he got a small trolley to haul his two cases, and followed Lily’s explicit directions to the visitor’s area where he was looking for a smaller version of Sirius Black.
“This is him,” Lily said, showing him a picture of Regulus. “Just look for some ex-scene kid on his mobile. I’ve already sent him your info, so he knows who to look for.”
Remus would have laughed if the description hadn’t been so accurate. Regulus looked strikingly like his brother, with more squared features, but there was no mistaking the siblings. He wore his hair longer in the front than the back, his fringe sweeping elegantly over one eye in a way Remus would never ever know from his own mop of mess he called hair.
Regulus was there as promised, wearing jeans so tight Remus thought they might have been painted on, and white shirt-sleeves rolled up to the elbow. He recognised Remus almost instantly, saying nothing but giving him the, “Follow me,” jerk of the head as he led the way to the main doors.
There was a car waiting, not quite a limo, but a far cry from the tiny automobiles bashing about London streets. His cases were unceremoniously thrown into the boot, then Regulus climbed in and shifted over to make room for Remus.
The driver gave them a quick glance before heading out, and Remus stared round in wonder now that he was seeing how the other half lived.
He didn’t get the celebrity impression from Lily—mostly because she wasn’t one, and she insisted when James was home it wasn’t like that at all. When he had been invited over for tea, he had seen their modest house. It was only a couple of rooms, and Harry remained, for the most part, unspoilt. He was a polite kid, too, and Remus took an instant liking to him. He was snarky, which Remus had a deep appreciation for, and he asked a lot of questions.
So this was definitely new. And different. And incredibly intimidating.
“Ready for them?” came Regulus’ quiet voice, and Remus startled a bit, looking up.
“Sorry?”
“Lily did warn you, right?” Regulus asked, and glanced down at his mobile again. He tapped on the screen a few times before giving Remus a slight grimace. “About my brother?”
“I’ve been at the firm for quite some time, and I do follow the tabloids.”
“Mm.” Regulus gave him a careful look. “I’m not entirely sure that’s enough to prepare you for his dramatics.”
“Well I do remember him from school,” Remus offered.
Regulus laughed. “So just add to that too much money, and the ego the size of Jupiter—strike that, an ego the size of the fucking star he’s named after—and adoring fans pledging their undying love for him. Oh and other celebrities as well. And you’ll see what you’re in for.” Regulus sat back, crossing his arms. “I’ve made a bet against you.”
Remus quirked a brow. “I’d take that bet, but I don’t want you to look too foolish.”
After a second, Regulus barked a laugh. “Evans might be right about you. You might be made of stronger stuff than the last.”
Remus felt his cheeks pink. “She said that.”
“She did,” he confirmed. “But we’ll see. I’ve seen my brother work hellish miracles on the psyche of unsuspecting PR agents. I just hope you’ve got a decent backbone.”
Remus wanted to make a quip about his failing limbs and not having much choice, but he decided that was left for a better time. Between him and Lily, they decided to leave the MS out of it unless it became an actual problem, because the last thing he needed was Sirius Black assuming he wasn’t capable of performing his job.
With a sigh, he leant toward the window and watched the massive city fly by. “I guess we’ll see,” he eventually offered.
Regulus gave him nothing more than a small grunt.
***
The Marauders were set to meet Remus at the hotel restaurant, James faring better than Sirius who had been nursing an agonising hang over all day. They’d found a couple of clubs, and Sirius had gotten pissed enough to get on the bar for a dance. The videos had long-since made their way round tumblr and twitter and even facebook. A few people who had managed to get into those clubs who were not celebrities had blogged about it, not that it was anything new.
It was fairly tame compared to what Sirius had gotten up to in the past.
They had a private room in the restaurant, and Sirius was poking at a plate full of roasted veg James insisted he eat in place of the greasy burger he was certain would cure his hang over. In compromise, James let him order a massive bloody mary with six olives, and he was sipping on that now as he speared a bit of asparagus with his fork.
“Reg text yet?”
James looked up from his soup. “Yeah. They just pulled up. He’s got the busses sorted now, so we’ll board once they get all the equipment on board. Lupin’s riding with us.”
“There’s not room,” Sirius muttered, biting the end of an olive off and then using the small, plastic sword to saw into the centre of it.
“Regulus offered his quarters, said he’d ride with the crew. Seemed happy to do it,” Peter said.
Sirius rolled his eyes. “Of course he is. Well…whatever. Just don’t expect me to like him. Or want to be mates. Or…anything.”
James snorted as he watched Sirius saw the olive into tiny bits. “Woudn’t dream of it, love. Now eat your veg. You won’t feel better until you do.”
“I’d feel better if you’d let me get a morphine pump,” Sirius whinged.
“That’s not legal, darling.” James took another bite of his soup, then his head snapped up when the doors to their private room slid open and Regulus walked in with their newest member.
Remus looked nothing like any of the Marauders remembered. At the time he’d been too skinny, tall, a smattering of scars, and looked disturbingly under-fed.
Now stood before them a man who had most definitely filled out. His shoulders were broad, his hair still an untamed mess, but the yarmulke was gone and so where the patchwork clothes. He was wearing comfortable jeans and a collared shirt, a small smile which showed his front teeth poking into his bottom lip.
His massive hand extended out for James, who took it as he rose. “Potter.”
“Lupin, hi,” James said, and the memories of him came back. They really hadn’t ever got friendly, but he remembered thinking Remus had some wit and character to him. And he trusted Lily implicitly. “Call me James, please.”
“James then.” Remus looked over at Sirius who hadn’t even looked up, the singer still sulking and stabbing at his olive.
“Ignore him. He’s in a strop,” James said from behind a sigh. He sank down and motioned for Remus to take the chair between him and Peter.
Remus said his hellos to the third Marauder, then took the menu James passed over. “I’m actually starving. I had no idea plane food was that horrifying.”
At this, Sirius actually let out a small snort, though he didn’t say anything other than to take a noisy slurp of his drink. James sighed, then smiled at Remus. “Well feel free. We’ve got loads on the busses of course, but it’s not as good. Touring wreaks havoc so we try and get our nutrition in when we can. And speaking of…Sirius, don’t make me bloody spoon feed you.”
Sirius scoffed under his breath, shoving a V up at James, then took an over-large bite of the veg and made a huge show of chewing with his mouth open.
Remus tried not to roll his eyes as he gave his order for a salad with seared tofu. When the server disappeared, Remus sat back and observed the band for a long moment. “So lads. Been a while.”
James laughed. “You know, I almost didn’t remember you when Lily mentioned. Until Peter brought up the kosher incident of Oh-One.”
Remus blinked, then laughed very quietly. “Right. Yes. That was…well if the yarmulke hadn’t solidified my position as the school’s token Jew, that sure as hell did. My mam was…insistent.”
James shook his head. “Helped us sort out a few things though, so I reckon we owe you.” When Remus raised a brow, James leant toward him, “Helped he realise her shite friend Snape was a total bigot and it was when she stopped hating me so much.”
“Only a little,” Sirius cut in, speaking for the first time. “She mostly hated you until upper sixth.”
James shrugged. “Yeah well, got the ball rolling, didn’t he?”
Remus shrugged. “Glad that my Jew powers were used for good.”
Sirius laughed quietly. “Jew Powers. Oh my god.”
Remus grinned at him just a little. “Well with all the anti-Semitism, it’s the least the universe could do.”
James had a small smile, but didn’t say anything until Remus’ salad arrived, and he tucked in. They ate in relative silence for a bit, then James sat back, holding his spoon and pointing it at Remus. “So, Lily explain everything, did she?”
Remus clasped his hands, tucking them under his chin as he rested his elbows on the table. His eyes flickered over to Sirius, then at Peter who looked like he was about to fall to sleep, then looked back at James. “She gave me the basics. Provide a buffer between…the band…”
“Me,” Sirius said, sulking just a little.
“Well whomever might require a buffer,” Remus clarified. “But considering the state of the headlines lately, yes. You.”
Sirius scowled, looking away, and didn’t say anything.
“Obviously there’s going to be an adjustment period,” Remus said as he let his hands go and went for his fork. “This is really my first high-profile job.”
“Because no one else wanted to take it,” James put in.
“Thanks for that, Prongs.”
Remus blinked, then laughed as he speared a bit of tofu with his fork. “I remember that. I remember you calling each other that. Prongs…was it Padhoof?”
“Padfoot,” James said. “And dear old Wormy.” He winked at Peter who blinked sleepily, then smiled. “If you’d stuck round you’d have gotten one for yourself as well.”
Remus laughed a little. “No way I was cool enough.” His fork moved toward the plate again, then his fingers spasmed and it clattered to the table top.
James blinked in surprise, and saw a faint blush rising in Remus’ cheeks. “Alright, mate?”
“Clumsy today. Probably the jet-lag.” Instead of picking up his fork, Remus used his other hand to pick up his napkin and swipe at his mouth. Pushing the plate away, he folded his arms over his chest.
James gave him a careful look, then rose and reached into his pockets for a handful of notes. He left them on the table, then beckoned everyone along out the main doors. There were a few paparazzi out, having been stalking the band since the tour busses pulled up, but James was able to usher everyone on without any major incident.
Remus looked a little disturbed by the whole thing, but seemed to take it all in stride as best he could. The doors were shut, and within ten minutes, the driver was pulling onto the main road.
“You can bunk there,” James said, putting his hand on Remus’ arm and pointing to Regulus’ previous lodgings. It was a small bed, similar to a caravan up against one of the walls. The bus itself was incredibly posh with huge, squashy sofas, and a small kitchen. The driver was sectioned off with a massive partition, and in the back was a larger bedroom where it looked like most of the cases were piled.
“You won’t mind if I have a kip, do you?” Remus asked, looking more road-weary than before.
James clapped his shoulder. “Go on, mate. The curtains close to give you some privacy, and Sirius and I will probably bunk down in the back for a bit. Peter kips on the sofa more often than not, so you should have some quiet.”
“Thanks.” Remus looked round, but Sirius had already made his way to the very back, and he sighed. “I know this isn’t easy for any of you but…”
“I’m the one who put in the request,” James said. “Just…get to know him. He gets easier, and he’s a good bloke. I swear.”
Remus’ smile was small and careful, and he nodded. “I trust he is. Don’t much think Lily would care for him if he wasn’t. Just know I’ll do my best.”
“Thanks, Remus. Have a good sleep, yeah?” James took a step back, and headed for the bigger bedroom where Sirius had finally flopped over the larger bed. He was shirtless, lying on his front with his binder and jeans piled on the floor.
James eased himself onto the bed, drawing his hand up Sirius’ back to squeeze at the base of his neck lightly, and then lowered his head to hug him.
“Alright, love?”
Sirius grumbled. “I still can’t believe you found me a sodding babysitter.”
“It’s not…”
“Enough,” Sirius grumbled. “Stop arguing. It is what it is.”
“He seems like a good sort,” James said quietly as he shifted away a little bit.
Sirius rolled his eyes, but shifted closer to James and wrapped one arm round his waist. “Give us a cuddle, Prongs. I feel like shite.”
“I’d say you should learn your lesson from this about drinking, but we both know you won’t.” He pressed a kiss to the side of Sirius’ face. “Get some sleep, love. We’re going to be on the road a while.”
***
They reached their first venue in a handful of hours. Remus woke sometime after the bus came to a halt, and he could hear singing in the main area of the bus. Scrubbing at his face, his fingers still tingling a bit, he let out a small sigh and opened up the curtains. The bed itself could have been much worse, but his body was aching from having been on a plane, and then on a rolling bus.
He swung his legs over, and walked down the small hallway into the main lounge where he found Sirius at the fridge, hanging off the door and singing under his breath. His head snapped to the side when he saw Remus, and a scowl settled over his features.
It was rather adorable, if Remus was being honest. Of course he’d been thinking that since the moment he saw Sirius in that little restaurant, and was struggling to push those feelings aside. Not only were they grossly unprofessional, but Sirius was a celebrity. A big one. Someone who wouldn’t even begin to consider someone like Remus Lupin.
“Did I over-sleep?”
Sirius huffed, reaching in to grab a bottle of fizzy water, and he shut the fridge, leaning one hip against it and managing to look more elegant than Remus ever would in his life. “If you’re asking if I’ve snuck off to do something scandalous and horrid whilst you were having a kip, the answer is no.”
Remus flushed and shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Sure it isn’t. I know what the Potters are like. Mother hens, the lot of them. Never know when to let a bloke just live.”
“Live. Hmm.” Remus stepped back to lean against one of the cabinets, his legs feeling suspiciously weak and he was cursing his body for betraying him on his first night. “Is that what you call the twitter incident with Kellie?”
“Oh god, is anyone going to let that go?” Sirius moaned. “You know I wasn’t even interested in her. We met, got pissed, she took advantage of the fact that everyone seems to be interested in what I do with my body…and look what it did for her. Have you seen her sales?”
“Haven’t,” Remus said carefully. The idea that another celebrity might use Sirius that way was slightly disturbing.
“Better than she’s done since her album dropped. And now everyone wants to know if she knows what’s up my skirt.”
Remus’ lips thinned into a hard line. “That’s…”
“What you’re going to be dealing with,” Sirius cut in. “Constantly. You know I’m trans, right?”
“Er. Yes,” Remus said slowly. “But I don’t…”
“Well you’re about to get a hard, fast education on what it’s like to represent a trans celebrity. And it’s not easy.”
Remus levelled a hard stare at him. “Is this how it starts?”
Blinking, Sirius frowned. “Is this how what starts?”
“You. Trying to put me off so I leave?”
Sirius barked a laugh, then cracked the top of his water and took a long drink. “You’ve no idea what you’re in for, is all I’m saying.”
“Why? Because I might get difficult questions?” When Sirius merely stared at him, Remus deflated a little, leaning harder against the cabinet in an attempt to take some of the pressure off his tingling, half-numb toes. “Sirius, I know we weren’t friendly at school so I’m not sure what you went through there. I know Snape was a shit, because he was to me as well. And I’m not trans so I don’t understand what you’re going through. But I understand propriety an I understand that most people are complete rubbish and I’m not afraid of handling difficult questions. I’m not here to tell your story for you. I’m here to make sure that when you get drunkenly snogged by some up and coming artist discovered off YouTube, she won’t be spreading rumours about things that aren’t the public’s business. Because I was under the impression you were getting tired of those questions.”
That threw him. It was obvious. Sirius stared, his grey eyes narrow, jaw clenched. It was clear he wanted to be furious with Lupin, but his mouth sat useless and silent. He was clenching the glass bottle so hard his knuckles had gone white, and then he took a step away.
“We have rehearsal and sound check. Better come along, Lupin. And make sure I don’t get up to anything untoward and make your job more difficult.” With that, he spun on his heel, his motorbike boots clomping out the door.
The bus doors slammed, and Remus sagged a little. He took a moment to sit on the sofa, to will feeling back into his feet, and say a little prayer that Sirius wouldn’t remain difficult for long. He was up to the challenge, but he wasn’t sure that Sirius would let him be.
***
The first show went well. Remus had never seen the band perform live, and it was definitely something amazing to behold. They had a sold-out venue with thousands of people, a meet-and-greet with VIP tickets before the show with some contest winners whilst the opening band played.
Remus noticed that Sirius had a stage personality, something very different from the dark, sullen, brooding man he was on the bus and between sets. He was vibrant, lively, his eyes glowing with excitement and he genuinely seemed like he wanted to please the fans.
He was handsy and silly with the photos, agreeing to more selfies than anyone else would have, sending random tweets to fans, and asking people their names as he was walking by, signing random autographs.
In short, Remus saw the person Sirius wanted to be all the time, and couldn’t.
The band avoided interviews at all costs that weren’t pre-scheduled, and it was at their second venue in Florida that Remus learnt why.
A reporter had managed to sneak into the meet-and-greet, and cornered Sirius. Remus had missed it entirely, trying to deal with the small crowd, and caught sight of a flustered Sirius who was on his own, and gone red in the face. Remus had a profound moment then. If Sirius was unprepared, that’s when disaster struck.
He moved as quick as his legs would allow, sliding up to Sirius and smiling at the woman who was mid-sentence. “…to all the youth who might be considering transitioning. Would you go so far as to call it a trend?”
Sirius’ eyes were wider than Remus had seen them go, and his mouth was set firm in a frown. “I’m not entirely sure what to address first,” Sirius said, moving a fraction close to Remus. “Whether it should be to remind you along with your readers and anyone else who might be within earshot that it’s no one’s business how a person chooses to transition. That surgery or no surgery, HRT or no HRT, binding or not, packing or not—you are a trans person if you are a trans person. Or,” Sirius said, lowering his voice and leaning forward just a bit, “whether I should address the insult you’ve levelled at every trans person out there by implying that this would be a trend.”
The reporter was flustered, and Remus fought off the urge to grin wildly in her face. Instead he put his hand on the back of Sirius’ neck in what he hoped was comforting, and pulled just a little. “I’m sorry, but Mr Black is expected for sound check. As I’m sure you would be aware. Also I am fairly certain you’ve no passes to be back there because I personally approved the press list and I don’t recall your name on it.” Remus waved to security, and her face paled.
Still with his arm round Sirius, Remus pulled him to a quiet corner where a small table was sat, laden with water, and a massive, insulated carafe of tea. Remus poured out a small paper cup of tea, handing it over, and winced as Sirius took down the whole thing, bitter and black.
“Alright, Sirius?” Remus asked softly.
He turned grey eyes on the other man and let out a slow breath. “Been better.”
“You okay to go on? I need to…handle her before she’s thrown out, but I can stay if you need me.”
Sirius looked at him, his expression unreadable. “Yeah. I’m fine. James is just there.” He nodded his head across the room where James was going over the track list with Peter. He started away, but then turned and grabbed Remus’ hand, giving it a squeeze. “Thanks.”
“I didn’t do much of anything,” Remus said.
“But you did.” Sirius didn’t explain himself further, but let Remus go slowly, his fingertips dragging across Remus’ palm making the taller man want which was so bad, but so good.
When Sirius had finally reached James, glancing back at Remus once more for good measure, Remus hurried off to take his frustrations and fury out on making sure nothing about what was said that night could be printed again.
***
In the bus, Remus’ curtains were thrown back and his bed was suddenly occupied with a pyjama-clad Sirius. He had just been dozing off when the smaller man clambered up next to him, waving a tablet in Remus’ face. “Have you seen this?”
Remus squinted at the screen, but it was moving back and forth too much to make sense of it. Remus reached out, curling his hand round Sirius’ wrist and steadied him. “What is it?”
“That bitch in Florida got sacked,” Sirius said, his voice full of glee. He turned, propping his head up on his hand and grinned at Remus. “For insensitivity is what they’re calling it. Did you do it?”
“Well…I might have mentioned to her publication the sort of questions. And the unethical act of sneaking in backstage where she hadn’t been approved,” Remus said with a shrug. “Which is actually my job.”
Sirius laughed quietly, setting the tablet down and letting his hand rest on the centre of Remus’ chest. Distracting himself from the feeling of Sirius touching him—because he’d been trying so damned hard to tuck his growing affection for the singer behind his ribs where he didn’t have to feel it so keenly all the time—he put his arms behind his head and shifted away. Just a little. Not nearly enough to knock Sirius’ hand away.
“Better than our last one did. Then again, he was gone after my first pub brawl. Course that was in Dublin and you know those get mad.”
Remus laughed, shaking his head. “I’m not easily intimidated. And I actually did come here to do a job.”
Sirius hummed, then walked his fingers up Remus’ chest, past his shoulder, and tugged on a stray curl. “Your accent’s funny.”
Remus quirked a brow, and tried not to let it sound like his breath was hitching. “Is it?”
“Is that because you’re Welsh and Israeli?”
Remus laughed again. “Bit weird combination, isn’t it? But I reckon so. Didn’t speak much English at home. Or in school. Not til Hogwarts, and honestly I was so afraid I wasn’t going to be able to speak right, I just never said anything.”
“S’why you were so quiet,” Sirius said, very softly. “I remember you a bit more now. You weren’t half bad.”
“Thanks,” Remus said dryly, profoundly aware Sirius was still toying with one of his curls. “I remember you too, you know.”
“Yeah?” Sirius grinned wickedly at him.
“You and James were mad. Your pranks were funny though. And I was jealous of your hair.” Boldly, Remus untucked one of his arms to brush his fingers over Sirius’ fringe.
“Are you mad? Jealous of my hair. Your hair is brilliant!” Sirius’ fingers dug all the way in, ruffling them up, pulling them away from his ear. When he froze and pushed Remus’ ear forward. “Holy shit is that a moon tattoo?”
Remus’ entire face exploded into white-hot heat. “Er. Yes?”
Sirius rubbed his thumb over it. “Why? Remus…why do you have a moon tattoo behind your ear?”
“Well…” He huffed and shook his head. “It’s stupid.”
“I’ll be the judge of that and believe me I can tell when something’s stupid.”
Remus couldn’t bring himself to look at Sirius as he confessed. “It’s for my mam. After she died I was…well. Sad. And I always thought she was fucking mad for her obsession with wolves and with the whole Remus and Romulus thing. I was a twin, but the other one died really early on in the pregnancy and she thought it would be very clever to name me after the brother who died. I still don’t understand her logic. But she always decorated my room with moons. So…” He trailed off, shaking his head.
Sirius hummed, rubbing his thumb over it again. “Moony.”
Remus blinked. “Sorry?”
“Well you said you weren’t cool enough to be one of us. But that’s a lie. You’re obviously one of the Marauders now, even if you’re not on the stage. So you get a name. And it’s Moony.”
“Oh my god,” Remus groaned.
Sirius rolled his eyes and shoved his nose into Remus’ cheek. “Shut up. Your mam would love it.”
That startled Remus for only a second, and then he gave in to his urge and nuzzled Sirius right back. “Yeah, she would. She’d have thought you were a bit mad, too. But I think she’d have liked you.”
“Do you like me, Moony?”
“I hardly lie in bunks with people I don’t like.”
“Well I did crawl in on you,” Sirius pointed out.
Remus laughed. “Yes. But I could very easily have shoved you off.”
Licking his lips, Sirius pulled back just a little and rested his head on Remus’ pillow. “Is that why you left Hogwarts? Your mam died?”
Remus let out a shaking breath, then nodded. So many years had passed but it never got really easier to talk about. “Abba—my dad, I mean—had a hard time with it. He still had a home there in Tel Aviv, and he wanted to get away from everything that reminded him of her. He didn’t too much longer. Died in my first year of Uni. Alice talked me into coming back.”
“Are you glad you did?” Sirius asked, then quickly added, “I am. Otherwise I’d have not seen you again.”
“Mm, and what a crime that would have been. Not to have some stodgy Moony looking over your shoulder to make sure you’re behaving.”
“Maybe,” Sirius said very softly, “you make me want to behave.”
Remus entire brain was screaming that he could not give in. This was unprofessional. He had no idea what Sirius was like on the road. Who he fancied, how many people he did. How often this happened. And yet he felt his entire body humming with a want he hadn’t felt in years.
“Do I?”
Sirius laughed very softly—oh right up against his ear. His soft lips pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, then he was pulling away. “Maybe a little bit. But just a little, mind.” Sitting up, he looked down at Remus and carefully touched the side of his nose, drawing his fingers down around his mouth. “We’ll be in Texas soon. I’ve heard terrifying things, you know. I hope it’s not a stadium full of mad Americans with their guns.”
Remus let out a shaky laugh as Sirius slid from the bed. Turning on his side, he watched the singer back up a little. “I think they screen for those things. So I wouldn’t worry. But I’ll double check, of course.”
“You’re a dream, Moony,” Sirius said, and then he was gone.