Title: Speaking French
Author: juxtaposed (aka just juxtaposed on LJ)
Rating: Pretty tame, but I'd still be cautious.
Summary: French!Remus. ConfusedbutDetermined!Sirius. Fluff.
Warning: French cursing and slashiness. Plus, so much fluff.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
Notes: This is to make up for my lack of posting anything. Life has been crazy, and most of my fics are plodding slowly, while I get distracted by shiny new plotbunnies like this one. Thanks to nassima from LJ for helping with the translations! Speaking of LJ, if any of you want to know what I get up to, or read various drabbles and ficlets, head over - link in my bio. Merci!
Remus Lupin had a very odd habit of speaking in French at the most random of times. It was a conclusion that Sirius Black had come to after yet another moment of Remus' French-babbling. One minute, they'd be having dinner, and Sirius would be happily licking the remnants of his chocolate pudding off his spoon, the next Remus would be staring at his plate muttering some indecipherable phrase like putain d'allumeur, si tu continues, je te baise contre le mur!
Or else they'd have just escaped Filch, and been pressed together in some small nook in the wall, and as soon as the danger was gone Remus would be running off back to the dorm, where if anyone dared to stop him, they would get snarled at in French – Putain, casse-toi de là, faut que je me masturbe tout de suite!
Sirius really didn't understand a word of French, and therefore never understood whatever Remus was saying when he had his little outbursts. This aggravated him. It aggravated him because he hated not knowing anything. It aggravated him because whenever it happened, Remus wouldn't look at or speak to him for at least an hour. Also, it aggravated him because he liked it.
It was preposterous, really.
Except that, well, it wasn't. French was known to be the world's sexiest language or something. Anyone who spoke French usually sounded better, even if they were saying, 'No time, I don't care for the mongrel fish'. (Which was what Sirius had apparently said once, when attempting to read parts of the French newspaper that Remus had delivered weekly. Pas le temps, je me fiche des poissons métis. He'd thought he'd sounded rather good, he'd even managed not to mangle 'fish' into 'poison'. But Remus had turned a frightening shade of pink and burst into laughter, translating it two hours later when he'd recollected himself.) So of course Remus would sound good speaking French. Especially since he actually came from a French family, and had the accent down pat. So if Sirius liked hearing Remus speak French, it had nothing to do with Remus himself.
It did not mean that Sirius thought Remus was sexy, or anything. He certainly didn't think that Remus had the most golden hair he'd ever seen, or the most golden eyes. He definitely did not see Remus' lips as utterly kissable, nor did he wish to twine fingers with Remus' svelte, strong ones. And if he felt the urge to lick Remus' neck, and other parts, well – that was just Padfoot coming out.
It wasn't as if he had a crush on Remus or anything.
"Sirius, you great prat," he muttered to himself (since, ostensibly, no one else was paying him any attention). "You are a horrible liar. Even you don't believe yourself."
"Believe yourself about what?" Remus' voice suddenly materialized beside him. Sirius startled, then turned to look at his friend.
"What are you doing here, Moony?" Oh. That was right. It was a stupid question, Sirius realized even as he asked. Remus had been sitting next to him for the past three hours.
And now Remus gave him a strange look. "I've been here for the past three hours."
Well. Sirius couldn't argue with that, he'd just thought it himself. Yet, he managed to. "You're too bloody quiet, Moony. Forgot that you werent just a chair for a minute."
Remus almost looked hurt, and Sirius almost felt horrible. But then Remus said something else in French, which was what had started this all in the first place, and Sirius suddenly felt less guilty. It was Remus' fault, after all. For speaking French, and sounding so sexy when he did it, and making Sirius think such good – bad – thoughts about him. "Franchement, si tu n'étais pas aussi charmant, je te jetterais un sort. Mais je suppose que tu ne voulais pas vraiment dire ça, et s'il te plaît est-ce que tu peux arrêter d'avoir l'air commestible?"
"Um, you arent about to run off and ignore me now, are you?" Sirius asked uncertainly. He hoped not. He didn't want Remus to run away from him. He rather liked having Remus around, even when he said incomprehensible things in other sexy foreign languages.
Remus blinked. "Well, I -" he paused. He'd obviously been about to do just that, but now that he'd been called out on it, he made himself stay firmly put in his chair. "No, of course not. What gave you that idea?"
"Well, its just that you always do, when you can. You say your little French piece, and then you avoid me like the plague for ages," Sirius shrugged, trying not to show how much it affected him.
Remus stared at him, mouth open. "I -"
"You do," Sirius nodded. He softened. "I mean, I suppose its your right. I just wish I knew why you always feel the need to run away from me."
"Parce que je t'aime, mais que je sais que tu ne pourras jamais être à moi," Remus wouldn't meet Sirius' eyes when he said this. "Comment je me sentais, tu ne voudrais pas avoir affaire à moi non plus."
Sirius sighed. "Look, I don't know what you just said, but – Moony – please don't run away from me. If there's something wrong with me, let me know. Please?"
"Il n'y a rien qui ne va pas avec toi. Tu es parfait," Remus muttered, but looked up at Sirius almost sadly. "There's nothing wrong, Pads. I – I'll stop leaving."
"Good." Sirius smiled happily. "Oh, I've got an idea! You could teach me!"
Remus blinked. "What?"
"French! You could teach me French! That way, maybe you wouldn't feel so weird about speaking it in front of me."
"You want me to teach you French." Remus said flatly.
Sirius nodded, then hesitated at the look on Remus' face. "Well, I mean, not if you don't want to…I just thought it would be a good way for us to…that is, you're always so keen on me learning stuff anyway, and this way, we'd have something of our own and…I mean, well, you don't have to if you don't want to."
A corner of Remus' mouth lifted in a wry smile, and Sirius concentrated very hard on not leaning over to lick it. "And its not because you want to swear in a foreign language and not get caught, of course."
Sirius laughed as he tried to look offended. "Of course not, Moony, what little opinion you have of me." A thought occurred to him. "Hey – that's not what you say all the time, is it? I mean, you don't get pissed off at me and swear at me in French, and that's why you don't talk to me after?"
"That was hardly coherent, Pads. But no, I'm not always swearing at you. Sometimes, though." Remus chuckled at Sirius' indignant look. "Alright. I'll teach you a little French." And then he stood up and disappeared up to the dorms, and Sirius tried not to mourn the temporary loss of Remus, who reappeared a couple of minutes later with a well-worn book in his hands. "Here," he handed it to Sirius. "Try and read what you can, and we can start tomorrow, okay?"
Sirius flipped through the book that night. There were sections on the time, food and drink, clothes, love – wait. Sirius paused and thumbed back to that page. A smile crossed his face, and he settled himself down to learn all he could. After all, no one ever said Sirius Black was a fast learner for nothing.
The next morning was a Saturday, and they all usually slept in. But today, Sirius was too full of pent-up nervous energy, so at the light of dawn, he crawled out of his bed and crept over to Remus'. He climbed up beside Remus' prone body, shutting the curtains behind him and cast a sealing charm as well as a silencing one. No point disturbing the others, or getting disturbed, if things went as planned.
"Moony," he whispered into Remus' ear. "Mooooony."
Remus snuffled. Sirius found it adorable.
"Moony, wake up. We have to have French lessons."
Sirius wasn't sure if it was the whole sentence, or just the word 'lessons', but Remus stirred. "Whatsat? Pads? Issa Sat'rday, innit? Whadime isit?"
"Yes, but we have French lessons," Sirius said patiently. "It's 5 am already." That got Remus' attention.
"Sirius Black," he groaned, finally opening one eye to give a fairly threatening glare – considering it was only with one eye – at Sirius. "I'm going to go back to sleep now, and hope this is all a dream. Because if you did, indeed, wake me up at 5 in the morning on a Saturday, I would have to hex you with rather painful afflictions."
"But I've been studying, and you said you'd teach me," Sirius tried very hard not to whine.
Remus growled, still giving that impressive one-eyed glare. "I meant at a decent hour, you prat. Go back to sleep."
"Je t'aime," Sirius blurted out.
Remus' other eye flew open. "What did you say?"
"Je t'aime, Remus. Je t'aime tant."
"That's not funny, Sirius," Remus looked uncomfortable.
"Its not meant to be," Sirius said soberly. "Je t'aime. Je veux être avec toi. Je te veux. Je veux t'embrasser et te toucher."
Remus swallowed hard. "Sirius -"
"I know what I'm saying, Remus. At least I think I do. I studied that book, and that's what it says. Je t'aime. I love you. Je te veux. I want you."
Remus stared at him, nervously licking his lips. Sirius wanted to lick it for him.
"Est-ce que je peux t'embrasser?"
Remus seemed to hesitate a long while, before he whispered, "Bien sûr." His eyes fluttered close.
"Merci beaucoup," Sirius breathed, and leaned in.
C'est Fini!
Translations:
putain d'allumeur, si tu continues, je te baise contre le mur!
- you bloody tease, keep it up and I'll shag you against the wall!
Putain, casse-toi de là, faut que je me masturbe tout de suite!
- Get the fuck away from me, I need to wank now!
Franchement, si tu n'étais pas aussi charmant, je te jetterais un sort. Mais je suppose que tu ne voulais pas vraiment dire ça, et s'il te plaît est-ce que tu peux arrêter d'avoir l'air commestible?
- Honestly, if you werent so damn charming, I'd hex you. But I suppose you didn't mean it, and will you please stop looking so edible?
Parce que je t'aime, mais que je sais que tu ne pourras jamais être à moi.
- Because I'm in love with you, but I know you'll never belong to me.
Comment je me sentais, tu ne voudrais pas avoir affaire à moi non plus.
- And if you knew how I felt, you wouldn't want to be around me either.
Il n'y a rien qui ne va pas avec toi. Tu es parfait.
- There is nothing wrong with you. You're perfect.
Je veux être avec toi. Je te veux. Je veux t'embrasser et te toucher
- I want to be with you. I want you. I want to kiss you, and touch you.
Est-ce que je peux t'embrasser?
- Can I kiss you?
Bien sûr.
- Of course.
Comments, are, of course, loved and cherished. :D