train - prongsfoot - @dailyprongsfoot - word count: 720
“Where the fuck’re you bringing me?” Sirius demanded, though he grinned as James pulled him through the thick London crowd. “I thought you said we were doing something romantic?”
“This is romantic, you berk, now would you let me do my thing?” James retorted haughtily.
“Your thing?” Sirius shot back, chuckling as he worked to keep up with James’s pace. “Mate, you already picked me up a long time ago, you don’t have to–”
But at that point he figured out where they were going.
“Prongs, are we near King’s Cross?” he demanded, trying to decide how he felt about this.
James paused, turning to shoot him a look. “Listen, you royal arsehole. I am being bloody sweet. Do not ruin this for me, hm?”
Unable to decide what was sweet about going to a Muggle train station, especially on this day, Sirius tilted his head to the side. But still, he figured James’s plans were never boring, so he might as well come along for the ride. “Fine,” he agreed, making sure his sigh was extra dramatic.
They wove through the throngs of people into the station and, unsurprisingly, up to the barrier between platforms 9 and 10. Without a word of explanation, James pulled Sirius through until they were safely on platform 9 ¾, surrounded by Hogwarts students about to board the steaming scarlet train.
“You really had to do this today, eh?” Sirius called over the kids and parents, shaking his head good-naturedly. “What’s this about, Prongs?”
“All in good time!” James yelled back, still pulling him along, head on a swivel as he do-doubt looked to make sure nobody noticed them.
It was when they got to the door of the train that Sirius stopped him again. “You know you can Floo to Hogsmeade, right?” he asked with a laugh, gesturing to the car. “We don’t have to stow away with a bunch of kids. Not that I’m not up for adventure, but–”
“We aren’t going to be on long!” James reassured him, rolling his eyes. “Just a few minutes. C’mon, we haven’t got much time!”
So Sirius followed him. Because really, he would follow him anywhere.
They barrelled down the thin hall of the compartments, Sirius reflecting about how small everything felt now. It’d been so long since they’d been here, since the end of their seventh year. So much had changed. They’d grown, matured, come together and drifted apart. But really, it had all started here, in this same train, in compartment–
“Compartment two,” James announced, throwing open the door to the very first place the two of them had met, a beaming smile on his face. “You remember?”
Of course he did. He’d been eleven and terrified, wanting to get away from his awful family but with no idea how. And James Fleamont Potter had sidled up to him with a grin and a promise to change his life forever.
Somewhere in this compartment, their names were carved in the wood. JFP+SOB. How many students had seen them and not known how much it meant? How many students had sat here and not known how life changing this place had been for them? After looking around for a moment, Sirius turned back to James.
Only to find him down on one knee.
“Oh, bloody fucking hell,” he said loudly. A few students out in the corridor peeked their heads in, looking thoroughly confused.
“Pads,” James said with a shaky smile as he held out a box with a ring, “I–”
“Fuck yes. Fuck yes!” he yelled, unable to let James speak, too excited to do anything but jump on top of him and kiss him.
“I had a whole speech prepared!” James protested against his lips, but he was laughing as he spoke so Sirius knew he wasn’t in trouble.
And fuck, it was perfect. Of course James would make sure they were in the place they’d met when he proposed, of course he would sneak them onto the damn Hogwarts Express. What else would he do? How else would he–?
The train whistle blew, startling them both from their…activities.
“Shit!”
So of course they celebrated their engagement by jumping out of a moving train hand-in-hand, giggling like madmen as they sprinted through the crowd.
@wolfstarmicrofic I march 1 - thick I word count: 1,9k
I again apologise for my inability to write fewer words...
“God, Remus, how can you be the most brilliant person one day and so bloody thick the next?!” Sirius’s voice still echoed inside Remus’s brain since the moment the door slammed behind the other man. It’s been almost nine hours since Sirius had left their shared flat, and Remus was spiralling more and more with every second that passed without his best friend.
The thing is… Remus wasn’t even sure what they had been fighting about anymore. Lately, it seemed like all he and Sirius were doing was fighting. About Sirius leaving his clothes everywhere in their combined living space, or Remus never doing the dishes (he hated cleaning the leftover grease and food on the plates - not that Sirius appreciated his excuse).
About Sirius’s very vocal lovers he’d bring home every other day when Remus was trying to sleep or study for his next exam, or Remus ditching karaoke night with their friends in order to meet up with his current girlfriend (Emmeline and him were broken up for three weeks now and he was yet to tell Sirius about it, never getting around to with all the fighting and yelling they were doing).
Whatever little or big thing it was that had Sirius yelling again and Remus rolling his eyes… it mattered less and less the longer Remus had to endure the silence of the flat.
The sun had long disappeared, leaving only the light of the full moon to illuminate their little street, where they lived. Watching the clock tick by, Remus grabbed his phone, growing more concerned about Sirius’s whereabouts.
He briefly considered calling his best mate, but ultimately decided against it. If Sirius had been ready to talk to Remus, he would’ve come home by now, just like he always did after a few hours post-fight. So instead, Remus called James.
It rang twice before his friend picked up with a cheery voice.
“Remus! To what do I owe the pleasure of one of your rare calls? Everything alright?”
Remus could hear a baby crying in the background and another voice - which most likely belonged to Lily - shushing the child. Remus winced at the sound, feeling all the more guilty for bothering his friend so late.
“Yeah, I- sorry to call so late. I was just wondering… is Sirius at your place?” he finally asked, feeling stupid for it the moment the words were out of his mouth. Here he was, at twenty-four years old, calling his friend (who just became a father) because his other friend wasn’t home at 10 pm after a fight they had.
He felt ridiculous and was about to just tell James to ignore him and have a good night when James answered.
“Nope, sorry. He was here a few hours, though, said you both had one of your fights again?” James questioned. There was the sound of a door closing, and James’s voice came again, now without the constant crying in the background.
“He said he wanted to take his mind off things for a bit. Took his bike. He’s not home yet?”
“No, he isn’t. We- I don’t know why we’ve been fighting so much lately. It’s impossible to talk to him without one of us blowing up about one thing or another…” Remus sighed, pinching his nose from the stress of the past few weeks.
He glanced at the clock again. “You think he’s okay?” he couldn’t help but ask.
James hummed. “I’m sure he is. He’s probably just at a bar, finding a nice girl or bloke to let off some steam. You know how he gets.”
Remus groaned at that, feeling possibly worse than before. “Yeah. I know. Thanks, James. I’m sorry to bother you with all this. Especially with Harry and all. How is that godson of ours?”
“He’s good! Keeping us up all night, the little fucker. But honestly, I love it. And no feeling sorry for calling me! I wanna know if you’re feeling down and need to talk. Maybe we can come around tomorrow? You can cuddle with Harry. You know his chubby hands can make anyone feel better.”
Remus huffed a laugh, smiling to himself. “Yeah, that sounds like a good plan. I’ll text Lily about a time. I think I’ll just be going to bed now, too. I think I’m getting a headache,” he said, ending their talk.
James wished him well and left him to sit in the silence of the flat again.
After staring at the wall for another ten minutes, Remus finally got up from the kitchen table, wanting to put on the kettle for a cup of calming tea. Instead, he was faced with the emptiness of the cupboard, all of their mugs carelessly thrown into the sink next to a pile of dishes that had been growing for the last five days or so.
He sighed, stared at the mess in front of him, willing it to clean itself, before forcing himself to just do the damn dishes.
Sleeves pulled up and water bubbling with soap, he got to the tedious task, hot water stinging his cold hands.
He was drying the last of the mugs when he heard the front door open, and Sirius stepped inside, hair windswept from the ride on his bike, cheeks and hands tinged pink from the still lingering cold.
He froze in the entryway when he saw Remus at the kitchen counter, mug forgotten in his hand, blinking a few times, before kicking off his shoes.
Sirius’s eyebrows scrunched in thought, and he hesitated before vagely gesturing his hands. “You did the dishes,” he voiced the obvious.
“I did,” Remus replied hesitantly. Afraid this weird stalemate between them would somehow turn into another fight if he didn’t tread carefully.
Sirius stepped further into their living space, coming to a stop just a few paces away from where Remus stood.
“You hate doing the dishes,” Sirius stated again and Remus just shrugged, finally putting down the last mug.
“Thought you might be more inclined to talk to me civilly, if I did.” Remus couldn’t help the slight bitterness when he said it, immediately bracing himself for Sirius’s reaction.
But instead of yelling again, Sirius just leaned against the counter with a sigh. “I don’t want to fight with you anymore, Remus. Not now or ever again.”
“I don’t want to fight with you, either.” Remus agreed, fingers playing with the kitchen towel.
When Sirius didn’t say anything else, Remus looked up again, still seeing the sadness in his best friend’s eyes. And because he didn’t know what to say either, he just blurted out the next best thing that came to mind. “I broke up with Emmeline, you know?”
Sirius’s eyes grew wide at the admission and he opened and closed his mouth a few times before finding his words.
“Oh. Uhm… why?” he questioned, and Remus thought he saw a flicker of hope in those grey eyes he loved so much.
Why indeed. Remus thought to himself. He couldn’t possibly tell Sirius the truth. That Remus had finally given up on finding someone who’d fill that empty space inside his heart that could only be filled by Sirius. Someone who would finally get his mind and heart away from the man standing in front of him. The same one he had loved since they were teenagers.
“It just didn’t work out with us. I wished- She just wasn’t-” he stopped himself. Catching his blunder.
“She wasn’t?” Sirius prodded, taking another step towards Remus, having to tilt his head just a bit in order to look in Remus’s eyes.
And maybe it was because Remus was simply too exhausted from all their fighting to really care anymore. Or it was Sirius’s cologne that he could smell so clearly now. Or maybe it was Sirius’s eyes, so full of something that made Remus say his next words.
“She wasn’t you, Sirius,” he admitted on an exhale.
There. It was out now. His biggest secret, just like that.
Remus had expected Sirius to step back, to let him down and move out the next day, to laugh at him. Anything really, that left Remus standing there like the fool he was.
What he hadn’t expected was Sirius to gently grab his hands, which were holding onto the kitchen towel like a lifeline, thumb smoothing over his rough knuckles.
“You like me?” Sirius breathed out, warm breath hitting Remus’s cheek, eyes oh so sparkling under the soft kitchen light.
Remus couldn’t speak, couldn’t make sense of this moment, seemingly stopped between time and space, the sweet spot between admitting your feelings for someone and awaiting their response. The push and pull of will they, won’t they. The space where Sirius could still be his and simultaneously would never grace Remus’s life again.
He nodded, just a small tilt of his head really, and Sirius broke out into the biggest smile Remus had ever seen on the other. Cold fingers intertwined with his own, Remus barely even registering the motion, trying to figure out what Sirius was thinking.
“Fuck, that’s- I like you, too, you infuriating man.” Sirius shook his head, still grinning like a lovesick fool. It took Remus far too long to process the words, but when he finally did, he used his grip on Sirius’s hands to pull the other even closer, crashing their lips together.
The kiss was better than anything Remus had ever imagined. Sirius’s lips were soft and pliant against his own, causing the butterflies to cause mayhem in his stomach. He releases Sirius’s hands, opting instead for the silky strands of Sirius’s hair. It was as soft as he’d always imagined, and he sank his hands into it, pulling softly at Sirius’s scalp, eliciting a soft moan from the other that made Remus lose his composure.
He crowded Sirius against the counter, their bodies pressing tightly against each other. He licked inside Sirius’s mouth, tasting the other man and thinking that he would never get tired of this. Would lose himself in Sirius over and over again if granted that wish. Messiness and stubbornness included.
He loved him for fucks sake. He would never let him go now.
When they finally parted, gasping for breath, heads leaning against each other, Remus needed a second before he was brave enough to open his eyes again.
When he finally did, Sirius’s gaze was already on him. Unapologetically himself, open like Remus hasn’t seen in a long time, and so clearly full of love, it made Remus smile like a lunatic.
His thumb smoothed over Sirius’s cheek and he took a moment longer in order to be able to speak.
“No more fights, then?” It came out breathless, and a lot more insecure than he would've liked it to.
Sirius nudged his nose with his own. “No more fights. I was just jealous of Emmeline anyway,” he confessed with a sheepish smile.
Remus nipped at Sirius’s bottom lip in an answer. “Well, there’s no need for that anymore. Not ever again, if you’d ask me.”
“Never, then,” Sirius replied before going in for another kiss, sealing the deal.
but do y'all know who has the biggest, fattest, most insane crush on fleamont potter?
barty.
he met james' parents on a little gathering they threw for regulus' birthday and obviously he (along evan, dorcas and pandora) was invited.
guess what happens when barty daddy issues crouch jr. met fleamont "wow barty, you got 12 O's in your OWLs in fifth year, you're such a nice boy, im so glad we can welcome you into the family, son" potter
Remus first learns this when they are sitting with their hands interlocked doing work and Sirius just casually writes his essay with his left hand because his right is holding Remus’
And Remus is shocked because how has he never noticed??
And he’s not writing in his perfect Black cursive, his handwriting with his left hand is a lot messier, a lot more ‘him’
But the next day he is taking notes in class with his right hand and the perfect handwriting is back and Remus is so confused
So he finally asks Sirius about it and he tells him about how he was born a leftie
But his parents couldn’t have a defected heir, so they forced him to learn with his right hand
So now he can write pretty well with both but just defaults to the right because that’s what he’s always done
And Remus just decides at every opportunity to sit on Sirius’ right and hold his hand so he has to write with his left
@wolfstarmicrofic II may 3 - operation II word count: 700
“Prongs. I need your help!” The door burst open as Sirius rushed inside, looking like a wild and frantic animal, making James stop in his tracks at his best friend’s state.
“Merlin, calm down, Pads. Is everything alright? Are you hurt?” He immediately jumped into mother hen mode, checking his friend over for any injuries.
Sirius flapped away his hands.
“I’m fine. Well, no. I’m not fine. I’ve had a disastrous realisation and I need your help!” he urged, and James calmed a bit, realising that his friend was merely being his dramatic self.
“Okay, okay. Godric’s balls you gave me a fright. What happened? I thought you were studying with Moony in the library?” he asked, gesturing for his friend to sit down on his bed. Both boys were settling down on the mattress, legs tugged under them.
Sirius was fidgeting, eyes looking anywhere but James, and it made the younger boy frown. “Pads, you’re freaking me out here.” James said gently, taking his friend’s hands in his, trying to calm him.
Sirius took a deep breath.
“Right. I was studying with Moony, and everything was normal, right? I was being my charming self, and Remus was trying to ignore me to the best of his ability and he didn’t even do anything, Prongs! He just sat there, and he had a smudge of ink next to his mouth and suddenly, all I could think was: Merlin, I’m so in love with him. I’m in love with Moony, Prongs!! When did this happen?” Sirius rushed out, barely pausing to take a breath.
James blinked, and processed the information, before answering. “Wait. I thought you knew that you were absolutely head over heels for Moony. I’ve known since the beginning of the year.”
“WHAT?! I’ve been in love with him this whole time? Why didn’t you tell me?” Sirius complained loudly, hitting his friend over the head with a pillow, almost knocking the boy’s glasses off his face in the process.
“Hey! I thought you knew! You weren’t exactly subtle about it! Oh Moony, of course, I’ll study with you. Let me carry your bag for you, Moons. Do you want to have my last chocolate frog, oh Moonbeam of mine? You seem stressed, want me to-” Sirius knocked him over the head with the pillow again effectively shutting James up.
“I have never called him Moonbeam of mine!” he complained.
“Wrong. You have called him that twice already.” came a bored voice from the bed next to them.
“Oy, Pete! Since when are you here?”
A blond head stuck out from closed curtains. “I’ve been here the entire time. And I can assure you that everyone knows you have a crush on Remus.”
Sirius looked affronted. “Everyone?”
Peter tilted his head to the side. “Well, not entirely. I’m pretty sure Remus is completely oblivious.” With that, he closed his curtains again, leaving Sirius and James to deal with the topic.
They sat in silence for a moment, before James nudged his friend.
“So. What are you going to do about it?”
Sirius was silent, brows furrowed in thought, and James, for once, couldn’t get a proper read on his best friend. He knew that Remus was equally in love with Sirius as the other boy was with him. However, he had sworn to secrecy two years ago when Moony confessed his crush, and he would be damned to break that promise now.
Still… he could at least meddle some.
“I have to make him fall in love with me.” came Padfoot’s reply after a long moment, facing James for the first time head-on, gaze steady.
James grinned. “That’s the spirit! We’ll call it Operation: Win over our furry friend!” he exclaimed excitedly, a matching grin spreading on Sirius’ face.
They heard a huff. “You know that spells “WOOFF”? Kind of ironic, don't you think?” Pete drawled.
The two other Marauders looked at each other for a second before they burst out laughing. Sirius shook his head.
@wolfstarmicrofic II may 2 - sir II word count: 1380
CW: age gap (both consenting adults) NSFW - suggestive imigary but nothing actually happing other than heavy flirting and teasing, enjoy!
I tried to make this under 1k words, but I'm very bad at keeping it mini, sorry
“Next week, we’ll be discussing the themes of race, class, and gender in the works of Emily Chopin. Please read the texts I provided you with online and don’t hesitate to contact me if you have any questions. Have a great weekend.” Remus ended his last lecture for the day, turning around when his students started eagerly leaving the lecture hall.
It’s been a long week, his joints aching from standing too long without the help of his cane (because he refused to use it at university. He was in his mid-thirties, not mid-sixties, alright?). He sat down in his chair at the desk, sighing as his hip popped and the ache subsided a bit. He couldn’t wait to get home and take a long, hot bath.
He was focused on gathering his belongings, shutting down his laptop when a smooth low voice pulled him from his thoughts.
“Excuse me, sir. Do you have a moment?”
Remus closed his eyes for a brief moment. He knew that voice all too well. Sirius Black had made his job a living hell the moment he had stepped into his classroom this semester. Twirling his silky black hair as he watched Remus like a hawk in his sessions. Bright grey eyes looking all so innocent, even though Remus knew it was all just an act. Clothes always just a bit too tight, teasing him, making him imagine ripping the offending garment right off of the younger man.
Even worse, Black was attentive, one of his best students, really. Always asking the right questions at the right time, head slightly tilted as he hung onto Remus’ every word as he answered, making him stutter whenever the other bit his bottom lip in concentration.
But Remus was a professional. And he wouldn’t let beautiful twenty-something-year-olds ruin him or his career. So he ignored the other man to the best of his ability.
That plan seemed to work right up until a few weeks ago when the student had decided to make it nearly impossible to ignore him, by approaching Remus after classes, or in the hallway when they crossed paths, or Remus’ office during his open office hours, invading the small and quiet space with his sultry voice and boisterous laugh.
Black always had an excuse, too. Asking about an assignment, or if Remus could elaborate on a topic he had broached in one of his lectures. But what started innocent, quickly turned into dangerous territory: Black asking about his personal life.
He asked if he had a wife, or husband (no, and Remus knew the question was redundant anyway, seeing as he had no ring on his finger - and since Sirius had been eyeing his hands for quite some time, he must have noticed as much).
The next time, he asked if Remus liked to read books in his free time or if he just did so for his lectures, and what kind of books he liked reading most. The next day, a first edition of his favourite novel lay on his office desk with a neatly written note on top, swirly initials in the bottom right corner ~S.O.B.
Remus had stared at the book for entirely too long, debating giving it back (technically he wasn’t allowed to accept gifts from his students. Bribery and all that.), but he couldn’t get himself to part from it, so he took it home instead.
Save to say, Sirius Black had managed to weasel himself into every crook of Remus’ brain and life and it was driving the professor insane, to the point that every interaction with the younger man had him reeling, threatening to boil over and do something irreparable to his career.
He willed himself to prolong the inevitable and not let it be the interaction he was currently in, but a different one in the future.
When he looked up and into hooded grey eyes, lined with charcoal and sparkling with a hint of mischief, Remus doubted his ability to keep things professional once more.
“What can I help you with, Mr. Black?” he asked, voice coming out much clearer than he thought he could manage at the sight of the other man.
Black smirked in that way of his that said he had Remus exactly where he wanted him. Wrapped around his little finger.
The student leaned against the desk, stretching out his long legs clad in infuriatingly tight leather pants that Remus wanted to peel off desperately. He tilted his head, silky hair falling to his side and revealing the pale and smooth skin of his neck that Remus dreamed about marking up.
He was well and truly fucked. Black clearly decided he had toyed with Remus enough and it was time to attack.
“I was wondering… what someone like you might do on a Friday night? I could see you enjoying a hot bath, maybe with a nice book, relaxing those muscles you got, you know? Or maybe you’d surprise me and go to a pub or bar? Drink one or more beers, take a nice bloke home with you. One with long black hair, legs for days, porcelain skin that you would take your time marking up with your mouth. You’re a gentle lover, aren’t you, professor? You’d know how to take care of a guy like me.”
Remus swallowed. Not once had Black been this straightforward with him, painting an image in Remus’ head that he desperately wished was reality. He worked his jaw, eyes scanning over the room to make sure that the rest of his students were truly gone, before carefully crafting his answer.
However, whatever was about to come out of his mouth died at the tip of his tongue when Black shifted slightly, revealing black ink under the collar of his shirt.
Remus snapped.
One moment he sat on his chair, the next, he was looming over his student, arms on each side of the other man, palms resting on the dark wood, bodies so close, Remus could smell Sirius’ shampoo and it made Remus’ professionality crumble like a house of cards. Their faces were closer than ever and Remus smirked when he heard the other man take in a sharp breath.
“I don’t know what games you’re playing here, Mr. Black.” He spoke lowly into the student’s ear, revelling in the way it made him shudder. “But I can assure you, I’m everything but gentle in bed. And you would be wise not to test me. Are we clear?”
Remus leaned back just a bit, looking into wide and lustful eyes and it made him hot all over.
This was it. This was the moment that could change everything and Remus wished - hoped - Black would make the right choice and leave. Take the threat as it was and run for the hills.
Of course, the student had never left him alone and he wouldn’t start now. Black’s tongue darted out, wetting his lower lip and Remus had suppressed a groan at the sight.
“I think you’re all bark and no bite, sir. You couldn’t hurt a fly.” Again, that infuriating smirk, Remus wanted to see it crumble, wanted to shut up that smart mouth and make it useful for once. See it wrapped around-
He was getting ahead of himself. Again.
He raised his hand and tilted Black’s head up slightly, watching hungrily as his throat bobbed.
“Tonight. 8 pm. The Three Broomsticks. I’ll show you just how gentle I can be... if you’re up for it.” He gave the other man’s thigh a tight squeeze, before stepping back, grabbing his bag, and walking out of the lecture hall with wide steps, forcing himself not to turn around and take the other man right then and there over the desk and show him what happened when you provoked your professor too much.
No. That could wait for another day. First, he had to get ready for tonight. And he already had lots of ideas on how to make Sirius Black regret ever thinking he could win this little game of theirs.
@wolfstarmicrofic II may 1 - truth II word count: 540
"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"
Remus’ hands were shaking and he forcefully pushed them against the table in front of him, trying to ignore the imploring gazes of the jury. The light was too bright and made him feel like he was standing on a stage. He guessed he kind of was, sitting on the witness stand.
His eyes flitted around the room, dangerously close to landing on the one person that he so desperately avoided looking at. He was wearing grey robes, way too loose on his haggard body, long black hair dry and frizzy, almost to his waist now, and his-
“Mr. Lupin?”
Remus’ eyes snapped back to the judge at his side and he swallowed, trying to compose himself.
“Yes.” his voice cracked, hands bunching into fists. “Sorry. Yes, I do.”
A nod. The judge continued.
“The defendant may begin to question the witness on his memory of the murder of Lily and James Potter, twelve years ago.”
Remus’ ears were ringing and he desperately tried to stay in the present. James was lying on the floor, glasses broken and askew on his face, eyes wide open. And Lily. Oh, his Lily, murdered in cold blood as well, just a few feet away, hand still stretched out to the crib in which a crying baby Harry lay. And Sirius, bloody hands and petrified face, looking so, so devastating. His love, his soulmate, the person he thought he would spend the rest of his life- no.
All that lies in the past, Remus reminds himself, as he forces his gaze to the defendant and not the committed murderer - falsely convicted murderer? - at his side. Trying to answer the questions to the best of his knowledge.
Twelve years he tried to forget, never being able to. Seeing his dead friends in his dreams, bright blue eyes in his nightmares. He shouldn’t have to do this all over again. Every fiber in his being wanted to be far, far away. Somewhere sunny, or maybe the mountains. Just not here, so close to the person who ripped his heart to shreds without even blinking. Who betrayed them all and yet… and yet, Remus missed him.
That’s why he was here after all. To tell his tale, something he never got to do twelve years ago, when everything had moved too fast. One blink his friends were alive, the love of his life at his side, smiling. The next they were dead and he.. he was locked up somewhere for life, never to be seen again.
But then he got a call. New evidence. Something weird about another case that connected to this one over a decade ago.
And Sirius Black. Innocent.
Possibly. Unbelievingly. Miraculously. A one-in-a-billion chance. A thought Remus never even dared to entertain, because…
Well… it hurt too much to even think.
And yet, he was here, and when Remus finally locked eyes with the person he held so dear even after all those years, his heart skipped a beat and all he wanted was to make things right.
Because if Sirius Black was innocent, then he would never, ever, let him go again.
Wolfstar Shopping At Tesco ( a.k.a Sirius having the time of his life because muggle shopping is so ‘cool’ and Remus being done with him and actually trying to get some shopping done 😭😭😭 )
@rosekillermicrofic II April 3 - paint II word count: 1111
Slightly nsfw! MDNI!
Evan had paint smudged right over the left corner of his mouth and it was driving Barty absolutely insane.
He has been staring at it since the moment he has stepped into their apartment over an hour ago, when Evan was still sprawled over his canvas on the floor, surrounded by utensils, red paint dripping from brushes and onto the hardwood floor.
And when he turned around to greet Barty as usual, he spotted it. That blue smudge right over those full lips Barty has been obsessing over for the better part of the last year.
Barty never saw Evan as anything other that his best friend. Not for the years they spent together at school and not for the two years after when they lived in a flat with Regulus.
But one day, a few weeks after Regulus had moved out to live with James - a Gryffindor of all people, Barty still judged him for him whenever he got the chance - well, Barty's feeling just changed. Suddenly, without reason, Evan was cooking in the kitchen and Barty was only looking away for a second and when he looked back it hit him like a fucking truck. He was in love with his best friend. He was in love with Evan Rosier.
He would love to say that he was totally chill about it. In truth, Barty ran out of their flat, mumbling some weird excuse, and straight up to Regulus who only stared at him with that unimpressed look on his, muttering a “fucking finally” under his breath.
After that, Barty has been pretty good at hiding his feelings from the other man, if he dare say so himself.
That was, until that fucking paint spot appeared.
“Barty? Barty?! Are you even listening to me?” Evan's annoyed tone finally ripped him out of his trance and Barty's eyes snapped from blue paint to brown eyes.
“Sorry what?” Evan looked at him with an unimpressed stare, but Barty didn't have it in him to feel bad. How was he supposed to listen when Evan was just so- so distractable!
“I swear what is it with you today! You've been all spacey and weird.” Evan exclaimed, brows furrowed, studying his friend.
“Nothin’. Just thinking, I guess.” Barty cringed at his own weak reply. Who the fuck was he? No way Evan would buy that and by the raised eyebrow he received, his best friend definitely didn't.
Luckily, his best friend spared him for now. “Right. Well, whenever you decide to snap out of it, I'll be in my room.” With that, the other man stood up and out of the room and Barty never got to know what the other man was asking him in the first place.
..
Later that day, when they were both sprawled out over the couch, sharing a joint between them - like they often did on nights where all of their friends were out on date nights - Barty was still staring at that blue spot. He had hoped the other man would've seen it in the mirror by now, but apparently he hadn't and the more time passed, the more it drove him insane.
Evan was talking, telling a story of one of his professors at university who straight up drew on his art project to tell him everything that was wrong about it. He gestured wildly with his hands, joint forgotten for a moment between his fingers, as he recounted the event, fuming with it.
And really, Barty was trying to focus, he really did. But his mind had other ideas, mainly wanting to lick right over that blue spot, see how it tasted on his best friend's skin.
“You have paint on your face. Just above your lip.” He said it in the middle of Evan's rant, right in the middle of a sentence. Just blurting it out, completely interrupting the other man.
“What?”
Barty felt his face turn hot.
“Uhm.. just- There's paint smudged over your lip.” he repeated and Evan gave him a puzzled look before wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Gone?”
“Nah, still there. Think you smudged it more.”
Again, Evan wiped at his skin roughly without catching it. And before Barty could think about what he was doing, he scooted closer, licking at his thumb and bringing it to the other man's lips.
“Here, let me do it.”
He brushed over the spot, much gentler than Evan had been, the paint slowly coming off. It wasn't until everything was gone, dark skin spotless again and glistening a bit with Barty's spit, that Barty realised how close he was to the other man.
His thumb brushes over the corner of Evan's mouth again, catching lightly on his bottom lip.
He was transfixed, totally out of it as he watched how it gave under his thumb and sprang back into position, thumb hovering in place above it.
He cleared his throat. “Right. Uhm… you're good.” He forced out, eyes still focused on where the paint had been, locked in place, unable to move.
The next few seconds felt like forever, none of them moving, both of them in their own little bubble until Evan's tongue darted out, wetting his lips and Barty snapped.
With a heavy exhale he pulled the other in by the neck, lips crashing together in a desperate kiss.
Barty's brain was fuzzy. Evan tasted like weed and something just so Evan that Barty couldn't wrap his head around and it drove him insane, especially when he felt a hand grab his collar, pulling him even closer, teeth biting at his lip, drawing a moan from him that had the other smirking.
They moved on instinct, heavy breaths and wet tongues against each other and didn't break the kiss until Barty was straddling Evan's lap, grinding down like a bitch in heat, completely lost in the moment until Evan pulled away to take a deep breath.
Brown eyes locked with his and Barty felt his stomach swoop at the dark look in them.
“Bloody hell, I've wanted to do that for so long.” Evan exhaled, speaking into the little space between them and Barty's heart squeezed at the comment.
It wasn't until much later, until their body's were exhausted, legs intertwined in bed, that Barty let out a snort, disrupting the quiet of the room.
“You're not the only one, Rosier” he replied, pushing their lips back together hungrily.
“What's so funny?”
“I think there's paint on your dick.”
He was met with a raised eyebrow and a lazy smirk.
