Evan: I never tell people off the bat that I'm gay. I wait. I wait until they say some homophobic shit and then I laugh and am like "you know I'm gay right?" and watch the look of terror on their face.
For a moment, he just observes the ridiculous domesticity he's walked in on. Sirius is halfway between sitting up and lying down in Remus' bed, Remus practically draped across him. James would almost assume the two are asleep, if not for Sirius' hand moving gently through Remus' hair. The two of them look...
Well.
James isn't really sure why he's so taken aback.
Sirius' eyes open at the sound of the door falling closed behind James, meeting his eyes and frowning as James gives him a look. A look that James is all too used to giving Sirius, as of late.
"What?" Sirius asks finally, voice quiet and hand stilling in Remus' hair.
"What happened to distance?" James whispers back, setting his bag down. Sirius had been adamant about the whole thing; that all he needed to do was take a step back. That 'no, Remus doesn't like me back, he can't.' That he needs to have a little bit of space to get over his feelings.
"He's not well. I brought him some tea," Sirius argues weakly, gesturing vaguely to an abandoned mug of tea on Remus' bedside table, the teabag having been left in it for so long that the water has been reduced to nothing but a dark void.
James looks at Sirius again, arching an eyebrow disbelievingly.
"Shut up," Sirius mutters, face turning red at an alarming rate.
Remus mumbles something a little incoherent in his sleep, arms tightening around Sirius' waist. Sirius' face softens in an instant, looking down at the boy on his chest fondly.
James just sighs, shaking his head to himself as he decides to stop intruding on them any further.
The two of them wouldn't be able to keep their distance to save their bloody lives.
Who knows, though?
Maybe they'll finally figure their shit out this time.
You were perched on Remus’s lap: straddling him, face buried in his shoulder, arms wrapped around his neck. The smell of salty sweat and the sound of the band’s songs overtook your senses as you tried to focus on anything but the pulse between your legs. You knew you were probably causing enough disruption to be on Remus, so asking him to make you cum was out of the question.
But it had been forevvvverrrr and Remus still wasn’t done, yet he was the only one left in the studio. On one hand, you were really hoping Remus would do something to push you over the edge but on the other hand you knew his practice was of importance- seeing as he had a tour lined up for next month.
Fuck it all to hell, you thought, sucking dark purple hickeys all along Remus’s neck, letting your hips rock more harshly along Remus’s muscular, twitching thigh. Clearly your actions had a positive effect on Remus: you could feel his vocal chords vibrate with a choked groan. But he didn’t stop the swinging of his arms and nor did he halt the slam of his foot against the pedal, instead stepping harder causing his thigh to flex under you deliberately and deliciously.
Closer and closer to that high you needed, sounds of desperation clawed out of your throat- muffled by your own earplugs (Remus insisted you wore them)- mewls and wordless pleas for more. You arched against Remus’s bare chest after your clit rubbed perfectly up against the cotton of your underwear. Your shirt and bra were soaked with your and Remus’s sweat, sticking tightly to you as your chest heaved.
Remus jerked up at a particularly close grind near his crotch and that sent you over the edge- sinking your teeth into the flesh on the junction of skin between Remus’s shoulder and neck, feeling and hearing Remus’s stutter. Blood rushed around your head, the drums and cymbals muted by the ‘wshhhh’ sound behind your eyes. When you finally opened your eyes and your hips had long stopped moving, Remus was just finishing abusing his drums to the tune of one of the band’s most recent releases.
The second the last slam on the drumstick met the drum surface, Remus flung the sticks out of his hands and splayed his abnormally long fingers on your hips. “Fuck.” He muttered, tearing out his earplugs to hear you. “I messed up the last one,” he muttered, dipping his head to meet your gaze. His eyes dropped to your gapped, plush lips and back to your eyes before melting his lips to yours, hot and sweaty and nasty and beautiful. He groaned into your mouth- a sound that you did get to hear after taking your own earplugs out and sliding your fingers up Remus’s neck. “I’m gonna make you cum again, love. One on the way home, and one in the bed.”
You smiled against his lips. “Mm,” you mused, “if we get that far into the house.” Remus just tilted his head. “It took me two run throughs the setlist to get you to cum in your pants,” he informed you, resting his forhead against yours. “But I think I’ll pull more than two of you.”
The glint in Remus’s blown eyes made you laugh. “Better get to work, drummer boy.”
Remus just captured your lips with his and busied himself with undoing your belt. “I better,” he agreed, tongue prodding your mouth.
Regulus: If I die, my funeral is going to be the biggest party ever and you’re all invited
Remus: If?
Sirius: Great, the only party I’ve ever been invited to and he might not even die.
