Chasing Smoke

They're kissing. There is heavy petting and tongue and Remus tells Sirius to hold very, very still while he runs his mouth over the planes of Sirius' not-quite-undressed body. And Sirius gasps and bucks and Remus buries his nose into that heady scent, unwilling to let go.

Sirius' fingers jerk Remus' head up through his hair in a way that doesn't hurt because everything just feels so damn good right now. His eyes are hazy and aroused behind the thick eyelids. His lips are swollen and red from kissing and Remus dives straight into that mouth.

They are a flurry of twisting tongues and supple lips and Sirius' hands are working down Remus' body, unbuttoning his oxford and delving into his trousers. His hands are hot and rough and firm and Remus just can't get enough of them.

Sirius is caressing and groping between Remus' hips and that just drives him insane. Remus is just about to reciprocate when Sirius propels himself backwards, panting hard. His eyes are wild behind the heavy lids and he looks frightened.

It takes Remus a moment to come down from the lust-induced fog that had completely enveloped his mind. Takes him a few beats to realize that he has just been rejected.

Sirius is panting still, eyes heavy and lips swollen. He pedals a bit to move so that he's sitting against the headboard. He checks the map again-James and Peter are still in the common room-and pulls his shirt back on.

Remus sits back on the opposite end of the bed. It shouldn't hurt. It doesn't, Remus tells himself because it doesn't mean anything. Just because Sirius doesn't want to have sex (never mind that Sirius always wants sex) doesn't mean anything. It doesn't mean he doesn't like Remus anymore. It doesn't mean that he'd rather have it with someone else. It doesn't mean anything.

Remus doesn't realize that he's silently begging for a reason why until Sirius' eyes meet his. Sirius stammers out, "It's not that I don't want to...It's not you...You...You're perfect. I want to...but just...I can't...I'm so sick of this..."

And here's the part that kills Remus: Sirius gestures all around them, his hands finally lighting on a gesture towards Remus. Their eyes lock. For a moment, Remus' world drops all around him and leaves him stranded in nothingness. An odd lightness that holds him underneath his arms and ribcage and keeps him suspended. He feels lightheaded, like he's been holding his breath.

Then everything crumbles around him and he's falling down with the world. "Oh," Remus says because there's nothing more to say. Sirius is sick of him. He's trying to be nice by complimenting Remus, but Sirius is sick of him. "I see."

Sirius sags in relief. "I knew you would." And he dashes out of Remus' bed without so much as a kiss or a goodbye or an 'I'm sorry.' Remus stares numbly at the map and follows Sirius' dot to the common room where he and the others stay until bed.

And what does Remus do? Remus curls his knees against his chest and pretends that not only did he see this coming, but he had been prepared for it.

Over the next few days, Remus gets used to the notion that he and Sirius are no longer...a thing. Sirius ignores him like he might a pesky pixie and Remus is fine with that because he's been avoiding Sirius as much as possible. He's just perfectly absolutely completely and for-the-last-time-James fine with that.

He doesn't miss Sirius' hip brushing against his, or the reassuring arm around his waist. And he certainly doesn't miss kissing Sirius. In fact, he is completely happy to hide away in the library in hopes that he'll wither away there.

The worst part is that Sirius doesn't acknowledge that anything has changed. He doesn't treat Remus any differently than he had a few years ago. Sirius doesn't acknowledge that something major has just happened. It's as if Remus imagined their almost year long romance and all the kissing, touching, petting, whispers that came with it. As if he'd imagined that he was ever important to Sirius.

In fact, Sirius acts completely and totally platonic about the entire ordeal. Infuriatingly so, because Remus feels as if he's broken into two halves that will never ever heal back together again, no matter how many reparo charms Remus uses. Meanwhile, there sits Sirius laughing and smiling and joking around.

The ignoring, Remus could take. The misplaced rage, the resentment, the disgust, the piteous glances, anything. Remus could handle any sort of residual emotions associated with break-ups (although, to be fair, he is thankful Sirius hasn't chosen the nympho-maniacal route which entails Sirius shagging all of Hogwarts within a fortnight) but he cannot handle this...this...

Apathy.

Remus cannot stand the apathy. As if he's just someone else. Another on the long conveyor belt of sexual conquests or even minute acquaintances. Remus cannot stand it. So he hides in the library where Sirius cannot sit on the opposite side of the table during breakfast instead of next to him; casually accuse Remus of being dull, dry, and lacking spontaneity; or make crude references to the nice arse of someone who is expressly not Remus.

Besides, this is where it all began for Remus: a library. Everything came and ended with books for Remus Lupin, so why not endure an ending through literature? A friend that gave with no expectations in return. A lover that only parted from Remus when he parted from it.

In short, Remus is entirely and utterly miserable. What's more, he doesn't even know how he got to be so miserable because everything is completely and totally fine.

Sirius is kissing Remus. He's sprawled out underneath Remus on Remus' bed while they press and lick and nip and kiss each other. He's so lost in the moment, that he momentarily forgets where he is and lets out a tiny whimper.

Remus doesn't seem to notice, but Sirius sure does. He rips away from Remus. His head is alight with images of James and Peter bursting into their curtained hideaway to see Sirius spread out below Remus like a wanton whore, moaning and writhing. He visualizes what would happen next and it wouldn't be pretty. Merlin, he just wants to tell them. But of course he can't. It makes him feel so, so sick.

He reassures himself that James and Peter are still downstairs and that their secret clandestine affair is still that: secret. That's when Sirius looks over to Remus who looks so...broken. It kills Sirius to know that he put him into this state.

Sirius quickly backpedals, forcing his clumsy tongue to move into words when all it really wants to do is lick, touch, press, molest Moony.

"It's not that I don't want to..." kiss you, love you, shag you, bury so deep inside of you that you are completely and utterly mine. "It's not you..." have done anything wrong. "You..." are incapable of doing wrong because "You're perfect. I want to..." make love to you so sweet and slow that you'll never want to let me go, "but just...I can't...I'm so sick of this..." Of hiding behind curtains and sneaking in shags when we know that Peter and James won't find out. I'm so sick of treating this relationship like we're doing something wrong, because we're not. We're not, Remus. I love you, and that can't be wrong.

But Sirius doesn't say any of that. All that comes out is garbled apologies and explanations, but Sirius hopes to Merlin that Remus understands that it's not him. It's not even the sex. Sirius still loves Remus very much and that will remain true no matter what, but he just can't hide like this.

And Remus does seem to understand, because Remus always seems to understand. And Sirius is relieved so he leaves before he can botch things up any more. He'll talk more to Moony when his heart isn't all bunched up in his throat.

But here's where things get tricky: the next day Remus is all but missing, only turning up for meals and when he does he does so guiltily. Sirius worries that he's done something horribly wrong so he gives Moony extra space. He doesn't sit right next to him at meals or let his hands linger over Moony's skin. And that night, Sirius crawls into his own bed without so much as hinting to Remus that he didn't want to sleep alone.

He just lets Remus be because he figures that's what's best. Remus always knows how to handle things and if Sirius meddles he'll just muck everything up.

In fact, he's probably already mucked everything up because the next day, James confronts Sirius. Asks him if he's noticed that Remus seems a bit...off. Sirius shakes his head in a lie, but resolves to hunt Remus down the next day to see what the matter is.

But Remus has gotten good at evading over the years. Sirius hunts him down on the map at first, but wherever Moony is it's always too far and Remus is on the other side of the castle by the time Sirius gets there. It's like chasing smoke.

Then the map disappears and Remus is impossible to find. But one day, Sirius is lucky enough to stumble upon him in the library, wedged in between two shelves. Sirius was just looping through to pick up a book that Slughorn assigned when he all but tripped over Remus.

Now Sirius knows Remus. Better than a lot of people do. So what most people would see as a studious little prefect reviewing a textbook, Sirius knew to be what it really was: Remus in utter misery.
Remus looks up immediately, and Sirius is hit with another shock: Remus has been crying. Remus doesn't cry. Sirius has hypothesized that Remus had long ago removed his tear-ducts so he'd never have to shed a tear again. Otherwise, all that sorrow in his life might overwhelm him and he would never be able to stop.

But theory disproved: Remus is here, post-sob.

"Moony?" Sirius' voice sounds vulnerable and childlike to his own ears, but he can't help it. He gets down to his knees so that he is at eye-level with Remus.

Remus quickly drops the agonized face in favor of a more subdued, scholarly gaze that is borderline bored. "Yes, Padfoot?"

Sirius isn't fooled. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Sirius sighs and scoots forward, his hand goes out to touch Remus but the boy looks as if the smallest touch will shatter him so Sirius opts to scuttle closer instead. "That's a lie, Moony."

"I'm fine."

"You were crying."

Remus winces, but repeats himself, "I'm fine, Sirius."

"You don't look fine."

Remus rolls his eyes. "Thanks, Padfoot. You do know how to boost an ego."

Sirius laughs, glad to see some sardonic wit back, and leans forward to press a kiss to Remus' lips.

Remus, however, pulls away in shock. His head clunks inelegantly against the wall behind him and his eyes blur for a moment before he's right back where he should be. "What're you doing?"

Sirius is just as shocked as Remus. "Kissing you! What'd you think?"

"Oh." Remus ages before his eyes, withers like a dried flower. "So that's what this is."

"What what is?"

Remus considers him for a moment, a blush blooming across his cheeks. "We're casual fucks."

Sirius recoils as if he's been hit with a stinging spell. "What? No! I mean, not to me anyways...I've always had a more romantic...word in mind."

"Romantic? Like what, shag-buddies? Occasional lovers? Because I'm confused, Sirius."

"No! Like...boyfriends or lovers or sommat...I thought I made that clear ten months ago."

Remus shook his head. "You did. Ten months ago. But a few nights ago..."

"What about a few nights ago?"

Remus looks away, flushing furiously. "You made your opinion of us-as an item-heard, Sirius."

"What opinion?" Sirius feels as if someone has dropped something on his head and he hasn't the slightest clue what it is or why it is there.

Moony just continues looking flushed and embarrassed and very, very edible; but Sirius ignores his edibility because there's something really bothering Remus and its his job to figure out what it is.

And that's when it hits him. "Is it the sex, Moony?"

Remus flushes deeper and stands abruptly. He slides past Sirius to replace the textbook into the shelves and mutters, "Or lack thereof." His hand lingers on the spine of the book and he leans against the shelf with his forehead skimming the book covers. In that moment, he looks so beautiful-all elegant lines and lithe limbs and dusty brown trousers-that Sirius can't hold himself back anymore. He's a creature of compulsion and he's compelled to touch Remus.

Sirius grabs Remus' wrist because he isn't listening, not really, and pulls him close. They're nose to nose and Remus is doing that wiggling, flushed, embarrassed, edible thing again. But he has to stop and listen, because what Sirius is about to say is very important.

"I love you," Sirius whispers huskily against Remus' edible flushed ear, "And maybe I should have made myself clearer that night: I love you any place, any time. But you deserve better than an illicit shag."

Remus winces. "You said you were sick of me-"

"I did not!"

"You said were sick of 'all of this.'" Remus gestures loosely to himself, feeling hopeless as he does so. He's tired.

Sirius considers for a moment, retracing his steps, and realizes that yes, yes he did say that. "I didn't mean you, Remus. Never you." Remus looks skeptical, so Sirius plows on. "I meant...hiding. I'm sick of hiding. I want to make love to you properly. In a real bed, in a real room, without James and Peter running the risk of finding out.

"I want them to know, Moony. I want everyone to know. I want them to know that you're mine and what's more I'm yours. I hate worrying that they'll burst in on us and we'll have to explain in this context. Everyone will think it's just about the sex which it's not, Remus. Merlin, it's not.

"I hate that just because we're boys and dating that that automatically qualifies this as lust or fucking, because it's not. For me it's not, and I don't think it is for you either." Sirius sighs and realizes how much he's said, but he can't seem to stop. "I love you, Moony. I want to do right by you."

Remus is looking at him now, which is good because Sirius is about to resort to extremes to get Remus to understand.

"I've been silly," Remus murmurs quietly, "haven't I?"

Sirius smiles because everything is okay and nudges Remus' nose with his own. "A bit. But it's in your nature."

Remus laughs lowly and nips at Sirius' lips which turns into a full fledged kiss. And, for now, it'll do.

Author's Note: Sigh. If they were a gay couple in our society, they would be shagging in cars. If they were a secret gay couple in our society, they would be happy for a bed. If they were a secret gay couple like my lover and me, they'd still be avoiding each other.

I'm sorry, love. I didn't know that it bothered you.

Thanks for reading, guys.

A.A.