"Strings Attached" by eunoiamoons on ao3
Strings Attached is an oxford, band muggle au. sirius' pov and wolfstar centric. takes place in the 70s. jily AND jegulus background (and its complicated as FUCK). very VEERYYY important OC's. it also has the MCD (major character death) tag so be careful!! 300k words, finished work
The next morning, the Marauders were already in the music room. They got there to practice before their lectures.
Sirius saw no point in that— they had their equipment at home— but Peter insisted that the room had better acoustics, and James didn’t want to piss off the neighbors again.
“Where’s the amp cable?” Remus asked.
Sirius yawned, “In the storage room, probably,” he said, already moving towards the small room.
They only came in for a bloody cable.
Sirius hadn’t even closed the door that hard—yet somehow, the moment it swung shut, the latch clicked like the universe had been waiting for it.
Remus turned the handle. Nothing. He turned it again, harder.
“…You’ve got to be joking,” he muttered.
Sirius leaned back against a stack of mic stands, all teeth. “What can I say? Destiny likes me.”
“Is it?” Sirius tilted his head, eyes bright. “Because if you think about it, this is—”
Remus tried to shove past him to pound on the door, and that was it. That was the moment.
Sirius’ back hit the wall with a soft thud. Remus’ chest pressed flush against him. Every ounce of space disappeared in an instant.
Sirius’ grin faltered, turned crooked. “Moons,” he said softly, “you’ve got to stop doing that.”
Remus looked at him, exasperated, ready with a retort—except Sirius’ hand found his waist, hot even through layers of jumper, and the words went straight out of his head.
“You’re very close,” Sirius murmured.
“There’s nowhere else to stand,” Remus whispered back, but his voice was different now.
“Convenient,” Sirius said, and kissed him.
It wasn’t slow. It wasn’t cautious. It was three weeks of pretending to behave around James and Peter, three weeks of locked doors and stolen moments and nothing close to enough.
Remus groaned against his mouth, his hands curling into Sirius’ shirt as he kissed him back like he’d been waiting forever. Sirius tilted his head, deepening it, pulling him closer still until their knees knocked and there was no space left at all.
The kiss turned messy, urgent. Sirius’ fingers were in his hair, Remus’ mouth hot and unsteady against his, their breath coming in short, sharp bursts.
Sirius managed to break away just long enough to gasp, “We can’t—here—”
“Then shut up,” Remus said, kissing him again, and Sirius did.
For a moment, they forgot where they were. Sirius could feel every point of contact, every ounce of tension, every bit of how much they wanted . Remus’ hands slid up under his shirt, fingertips digging into his bare skin. Sirius let out a quiet, desperate sound that made Remus bite down gently on his lip—
“Hello?” Peter’s voice, muffled but distinct, came from the other side. “Are you stuck in there?”
Sirius dropped his forehead to Remus’ shoulder and swore under his breath.
“Of all the people—” he hissed.
“Do you want to get out or not?” Remus whispered, still breathless.
Peter rattled the handle again. “Guys?”
Remus pulled back, flushed, hair mussed, lips red, looking at Sirius like he couldn’t believe they’d just done that. Sirius grinned, wild and unapologetic.
“This,” Sirius said in a whisper only Remus could hear, “is not over.”
“Not even close,” Remus promised.
By the time Peter finally got the door open, they were standing just far enough apart to look like they hadn’t been doing exactly what they’d been doing. Barely.
Peter squinted at them. “What were you doing in there?”
“Bonding,” Sirius said smoothly, already brushing past him.
Remus followed, shoving his hands deep into his pockets so Peter wouldn’t notice they were shaking.
The rest of the day was unbearable.
