Title: Sometime Around Midnight

Disclaimer: I own nothing, and am not attempting to make a profit.

Warnings: Angst, language, sex between men, un-beta'd writing.

A/N: Based off the song 'Sometime Around Midnight' by The Airborne Toxic Event. Video is here (minus spaces): www. youtube. com/ watch?v=UYPoMjR6-Ao&ob=av2e though I think my take is a bit more optimistic than the song itself. I just can't be mean to Remus and Sirius.

The night was going well for Sirius—it was only about midnight, and he was enjoying the pounding thump of the muggle club's heavy bass, he had a drink, (something bitter and made with extra vodka) and a gorgeous bird was giving him bedroom eyes from where she was grinding up against him. All things considered, it looked like he was getting lucky tonight, and thank god for that because well…

He flashed a smile at the blonde (and oh, does she have a friend? Excellent) and pushed thoughts of brown hair and amber eyes away. He took another long drink and pulled the girls closer—they giggled and the blonde brushed a kiss against the redhead's cheek. Sirius raised an eyebrow and smiled encouragingly. He leaned close, let his long hair fall over their faces, and said (yelling a bit—the music was very loud) "How would you girls like to get some drinks at my place?"

They nodded and Sirius kicked back the rest of his vodka before steering them out of the club, one hand resting on each of their arses.

('')

Sirius woke blearily to weight on both of his sides and someone pounding at his door. He sat up and pushed the girls off his chest—they didn't even wake up, just snuggled deeper into the heat he left behind. He pulled on a robe, catching himself at the last moment and not using an accio charm in the presence of muggles, and staggered to the door.

"What?" he snapped, opening it a crack, immediately thrown on the defensive when confronted with glasses and flyaway hair.

"Where the fuck were you last night?" James shot back, obviously furious.

"Girls may have been involved," Sirius muttered, and opened the door further so James could come in. He wandered toward the kitchen and brewed a cup of coffee, boiling water with a wave of his hand (after glancing to make sure there was no movement from the direction of his bedroom) and avoiding James' glare.

"Any particular reason you felt the need to bail on your commitments?"

Sirius grunted. "Remus was there, wasn't he?"

"That's not a reason—"

"Bloody hell if it isn't!" Sirius shot back, furious. "I can't see him, I can't do it James, it's too fucking—"

"So drowning yourself in girls is going to make it better?" James snapped in return, almost as equally furious. "We need you, Sirius, and for Merlin's sake, you're the one that left him, if anyone should be wallowing in misery, he deserves to, not you, you twat."

"Leave me alone, Prongs," Sirius growled, and James rolled his eyes.

"Well, Padfoot, if you feel like growing a pair, come to the next Order meeting. If not, I'm sure we'll be fine." He abruptly spun on his heel and disappeared with a sharp crack. A picture fell off Sirius' wall at the abrupt change in room pressure that followed a Disapparation.

He glared toward the spot where James had disappeared for a moment before walking toward the fallen picture. It was a muggle shot—no moving pictures graced his walls, one reason he could bring muggles back here—of him and Remus at Lily's last birthday party. They'd tried to make her a cake the muggle way, and Remus was just covered in flour, looking mortified at the mess. Sirius was clinging to his waist, doubled over laughing, clad in mismatched oven mitts and a pink flowered apron.

He stared down at the picture for a long moment, fingering the crack in the glass that it had suffered from falling off the wall. He abruptly curled his lip and dropped the picture in the trash.

"Sirius?" One of the girls called out from his bedroom. "What was that noise?"

He put his coffee cup down on the table and sauntered back to his bedroom. "Nothing, baby," he purred, and shut the door firmly behind him.

('')

Three months went by, and Sirius stopped getting calls from the Order—apparently James had spread the word that he was done. Sirius was ambivalent about this. Obviously, Voldemort's threat was very real and very apparent, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Instead, he trolled muggle bars, going home with a new woman (or two) every night, occasionally trying a man on for size, rarely getting names, often faking his own. He never went to wizarding bars.

He was surprised when he received an invite to Lily and James' son's christening. He hadn't talked to James in weeks, was frankly shocked they thought of him. He called by floo, and was firmly berated by Lily— "Just because you're being an arse doesn't mean you're not James' best friend, you git" –and promised that he would make an appearance.

He tried not to think about what would happen when he inevitably saw Remus.

('')

It was nearing midnight, and the party, if anything, was only ramping up. The children and babies had been put to bed and the adults set out to get as sloshed as possible—a birth was a happy occurrence, especially during such a trying time.

Sirius felt better than he had in a long time—James had approached him, declaring that no matter what, they were brothers to the end. He'd asked Sirius to be baby Harry's godfather, and Sirius had gulped and accepted and promised himself that he'd be a better friend, a better man. He'd even talked to Dumbledore and was planning on going to go to the next Order meeting.

But then—

As he stepped into the crowd milling in the garden to have a smoke, he saw him. Remus was smiling, talking to a tall man Sirius didn't know. He was wearing one of Sirius' favourite shirts—a plain white thing, turned up at the sleeves. He sipped at his drink and laughed at something the man said, and Sirius crushed his cigarette while trying to light it.

Remus glanced around the garden, his eyes slipping over Sirius, unseeing, then jerking back to stare. He obviously stuttered in his speech, and the man reached out a hand, rested it on his shoulder.

Sirius saw red, but Remus was excusing himself, and oh gods, he was walking over.

"Hey," he said softly, stopping in front of Sirius, who simply watched him with wide eyes. Remus smiled tightly, and asked, "You need help with that?" nodding toward the crushed cigarette in Sirius' hand. He fished in his pocket and pulled out his own pack, lighting two and handing one to the still silent Sirius.

"Thanks," he finally forced out, and Remus nodded.

"So, how've you been?" Remus asked after they'd smoked for awhile in silence.

"Alright, I guess. You?"

"Alright."

More silence.

"Well," Remus said, and stubbed out his cigarette. "Good to see you, Padfoot."

"Yea," Sirius agreed, and as Remus started to walk away (back toward the tall man, who was looking slightly bored) Sirius shot out his hand, grabbed Remus' arm. "Wait—" Remus turned back to him, his face carefully blank. Sirius swallowed, tried to say something, but nothing came out.

Remus sighed. "Look Sirius, we don't need to be friends. I don't know if we can be. Just—be happy, yea? I'm doing... I'm doing alright." And with that, he turned and walked away. Sirius hung his head for a moment, then turned to go inside.

Jesus but he needed a drink.

('')

Sirius contemplated his glass of firewhiskey blurrily and debated whether or not he was able to Apparate home. He rather thought not. He glanced around, searching for James to ask for some floo powder, but suddenly there was Remus, kissing Lily goodbye, hugging James, and the man—the fucking man he was with—was shaking James' hand and kissing Lily on the cheek, and Sirius' eyes went wide when the bastard dropped his hand to Remus' waist, and no, no, nonono. Remus glanced toward him, met his eyes briefly, and then they were gone.

Sirius stared after them, at the now-empty door, and tried to not feel like a Norwegian Ridgeback was crawling out of his chest. James plopped next to him and let out a contented sigh.

"Well, that went well, you thi—Merlin, Sirius, you look like you've seen a ghost. Are you all right?"

"No," Sirius breathed. "Who was that with Remus?"

James looked uncomfortable. "Er, his name's Emit... he works at the Ministry. Nice bloke."

"Nice bloke," Sirius echoed vaguely, and stood.

James grabbed his shirtsleeve. "Sirius." He looked down at James, his eyes still wide, and James shook his head. "Leave them be, mate. Remus likes him, and Emit's pro-werewolf rights, and they're good for each other, and you can't be jealous if you're the one that left!"

Sirius shook him off but sat back down. "He seemed happy," he muttered, and James nodded. They sat in silence, James nursing his beer, Sirius taking rather large swallows of his whiskey, before Sirius shook his head and asked, "Can I use your fireplace? I'm too drunk to Apparate."

"Yea, sure mate," James agreed readily, and fished around in his pocket. "Kept some floo powder nearby cause I knew this would happen," he said with a grin. Sirius forced himself to return it and took the powder with a thankful nod. He tossed back the rest of his drink, clapped James on the shoulder, and threw it into the fire, waiting until the flames burned green.

He stepped in, revolved a few times, and emerged, shaking ash from his clothes, into his living room. He headed directly for the cabinet where he kept his liquor and poured himself a generous glass. He was determined to erase memories of tonight from his brain.

('')

Sirius glanced at the clock—it was a little before midnight, the day after Harry's christening party, and the day-long liquor binge wasn't helping. He lolled on his couch, dangling his snifter from loose fingers, and made a (incredibly) drunken decision. He grabbed his jacket, finished his drink, and stalked from his flat.

He hit the street, only swaying a bit, and pointed himself west—Remus' flat (the one he'd moved to the very afternoon after Sirius said he wanted to end things) was about a kilometre away—he could be there in fifteen minutes, easily.

He didn't notice that he was staggering a bit as he walked, or that people were staring at him and moving out of the way. Nor did he notice that he was talking quietly to himself, replaying everything he'd said and done, berating himself for everything.

How had he thought he could stay away? How had he thought Remus was bad for him? He couldn't function without Remus, couldn't breathe, he was dying.

He found the address—he'd been here once, to drop off a box of Remus' clothes, and he was fairly certain he'd found the right building. The door was locked, but he opened it with a quiet spell, walked to the third floor, and found Remus' door. He paused, drunkenly unsure that this was a good idea, but it didn't matter, he needed Remus to know, he needed...

He pounded on the door, knowing enough that if he just walked in, magicked open the door and found Remus in the arms of another man, that would be too much, too terrible to imagine, the world would fall around him. He just needed to see him, even if Remus broke him in two, he just had to see him—he pounded on the door again, and it was suddenly opened under his fist.

Remus stared at him, shocked. "Sirius?" he asked uncertainly, and Sirius gasped, sagged against the door. Remus grabbed at his shoulders. "Are you—" And then Remus caught a whiff of him and shook his head. "Merlin, you are drunk. Come in, get out of the hallway..."

"'S he here?" Sirius slurred, and Remus furrowed his brow.

"Who?"

"Emit?"

Remus' face softened. "No, we're not that... quite that far yet, Pads," he said softly, and Sirius sobbed out a breath of relief. Some indefinable emotion passed over Remus' face and he helped Sirius to the couch. "What are you doing here, Sirius?" he asked.

Sirius clutched at his sleeping shirt—a ragged Led Zeppelin t-shirt, he noticed. He remembered when they'd bought it when they were maybe fifteen, on a trip to London—

"I'm so sorry, Remus," he blurted, and Remus blinked, opened his mouth to say something. Sirius shook his head. "Let me—" Remus shut his mouth and cocked his head, listening.

"Look, I know I'm drunk, but I couldn't face you any other way," Sirius admitted. "I've been miserable without you, I can barely function, I miss you so damn much, I think about you all the time and yesterday, when I saw you with another man—with Emit—" he spit out the man's name, and Remus raised an eyebrow. Sirius continued—"Merlin, I wanted to kill him, he was touching you, and I..." he let out a harsh sob, and buried his face in Remus' shoulder. His next words were muffled by Remus' shirt, but were easy to make out none the less in the silence of Remus' flat.

"Moony, I love you so much, I don't know what I was thinking, please, I was wrong, so wrong, I'm nothing without you, I can't even—" he realized abruptly he was crying into Remus' shoulder, but it was alright because suddenly Remus' arms were wrapping around his back and holding tight.

"Sirius," Remus said slowly. "I'm... can we talk about this in the morning? Let me get you a blanket, you can sleep here. You're too drunk to be making grand proclamations..." Sirius nodded quickly, and Remus extracted himself from his death grip and rummaged for a moment in a chest that doubled as a coffee table, emerging with a familiar knit blanket. He guided Sirius down on the couch and spread the blanket over him.

"I'll talk to you in the morning," he said softly, and Sirius mumbled happily, burrowing into the scent of Remus. He was passed out before Remus even left the room.

('')

Sirius woke blearily, a state that he was far too used to of late. What he was not used to, however, was the unfamiliar couch he was lying on, or the soft blanket he was covered in, and oh. He sat up and fumbled for his wand, muttering a headache-easing spell, and he heard a quiet chuckle behind him.

"I made a hangover potion," Remus said, coming into view from the kitchen. "I don't think that charm will work well, based on how far gone you were last night." Sirius accepted the slightly smoking goblet with a word of thanks and downed it, breathing out in relief as the pounding in his head began to ease.

He took a stabilizing breath and turned to Remus, who was watching him from where he was perched on the edge of a chair, wearing a slightly sceptical face.

"I meant everything last night. I'm so sorry, I don't know what I was thinking..."

Remus held up a hand. "When you broke up with me, you told me I was dragging you down, and that you needed to experience more in life. Why should I take you back? And I'm fully aware of how much 'experiencing' you've been doing."

Sirius stared at him—he almost wished that Remus would snap and scream at him, tell him he was a terrible person, the worst person. But Remus wouldn't do that, he never yelled, never lost his cool. No, the hot-headedness was all Sirius' department, the impulsiveness, the cruelty, the indifference. He sagged, and Remus scowled.

"If you're not going to say anything, you should go. I'm supposed to meet—"

"Emit?" Sirius growled, and Remus leaned back, crossed his arms.

"Yes."

"Please don't."

Remus shook his head. "You're being ridiculous. You can shag half of London, but if I want to date a nice bloke, that's entirely unacceptable."

Sirius was silent again, and Remus huffed and stood. "Look—"

"You're my world," Sirius breathed, and Remus froze. "I was an idiot. I love you so much, more than I thought was possible, and it was just my stupid pride—I thought that I was missing something, only being with one person, but I'm not, I wasn't, I'm missing something now, now that I've lost you, and I can't believe how it hurts, it tears me, Remus, I can't—" he cut himself off, shook his head minutely. "Please give me another chance. Don't see Emit today, let me take you out, I'll be a perfect gentleman, I'll start from scratch, I'll make us new and better and—"

Remus cut him off. "You hurt me. I don't know, Siri..."

Sirius slid off the couch and kneeled in front of Remus, who looked down at him with wide, surprised eyes. "Let me show you what you mean to me," he whispered, and Remus closed his eyes.

"Stand up for Merlin's sake," he muttered, and Sirius rose quickly, his hands ghosting over Remus' chest.

"Rem..."

"Shut up, Sirius." Remus leaned forward and kissed him softly, his dry lips barely catching on Sirius' before he was pulling away. Sirius whined and tried to follow, but was stopped by firm hands on his chest.

"I will cancel with Emit today," Remus said, his words just as soft as his kiss, and Sirius sobbed out something thankful and unintelligible. "But," Remus continued, his eyes hardening. "You cannot jerk me around. I am not willing to give you another chance just to have you rip me to shreds again. I will not stand around and let you walk over me."

"No," Sirius agreed, "My world, love, you are..." He slid his arms around Remus' waist and nuzzled into his neck, breathing in the smell of ink and sandalwood and just about going weak at the knees—how had he survived without this man? What had been going through his head?

Remus snorted softly and pulled himself out of Sirius' embrace. "Give me a minute. And you smell like whiskey, you should take a shower. I'm sure you can figure out where things are."

('')

Things were going slow, and Sirius couldn't be happier. He and Remus had been dating again for a month and a half before Remus began to get over his skittishness—probably helped by the fact that Sirius' eyes never strayed when they were out, that Sirius was there for every single whim of Remus', that Sirius reaffirmed whenever possible how much he loved his favourite werewolf...

Tonight, they were lounging in Remus' flat, splayed out on the couch, watching some new car show called Top Gear. Sirius' head was resting on Remus' lap, and Remus was idly rubbing him behind his ear in a way that was immeasurably pleasing as both human and dog. It was one of Sirius' favourite spots.

"I think they're getting a bit snarkier," Remus commented of the show's hosts, and Sirius grinned up at him.

"I knew I could get you into it."

"Because muggle cars are so fascinating..." Remus groused half-heartedly, and Sirius turned his head toward the werewolf's stomach and bit gently at him.

"I'll show you fascinating," he mumbled, and glanced up at Remus, who was looking down at him with a rather surprised look. "What?" Sirius asked, and smiled happily at him.

"I'm used to you again," Remus said softly, and Sirius blinked.

"I—"

"Come here," Remus breathed, and Sirius pulled himself up. He dropped a kiss on Remus' shoulder and then rested his head next to him on the back of the couch. Remus looked at him for a drawn out moment, and then murmured, "I trust you." His eyes flicked over Sirius' face, gauging his reaction. "I love you."

Sirius closed his eyes in pleasure—he'd lost track of how often he'd told Remus those three little words since he'd taken him back on a probationary basis, but this was the first time Remus had voiced it since before they'd broken up. He realized he'd made a rather embarrassing needy noise in the back of his throat, and he surged forward to kiss Remus firmly in an effort to reaffirm his masculinity.

They kissed unhurriedly for long enough that Sirius lost all track of time. The show ended, unnoticed by either of them, and somehow Remus ended up pressing Sirius backwards onto the couch, spreading himself on top of him, kissing down his neck just how he liked, their hands slowly rubbing circles into one another's bodies.

And when Sirius began to slide the buttons of Remus' cloak apart, he was thrilled when Remus simply kissed him harder and began fumbling at his trousers.

"Need you," Sirius moaned, and arched up toward Remus' body. He gasped when Remus pushed back, just as turned on, and growled low in his throat. "Let me," he said, and Remus pulled back—which only allowed Sirius to roll them off the couch and onto the floor.

Remus let out a quiet 'oof' when they hit the ground with Sirius on top, but smiled up at him, his grin slightly feral and entirely full of desire. Sirius moaned again at the sheer lust of that look and slid down Remus' body, tearing at his zip. It only took a few seconds to pull Remus' trousers and shorts off, and then Sirius was taking him in his mouth and oh god he had missed this, missed Remus...

Remus groaned and pushed up with his hips, and Sirius let him do what he wanted, opening his mouth and taking what he could. He tightened his lips, added suction, and gently rolled Remus' balls with the hand that wasn't guiding his dick into his mouth. He was drooling a bit too much, but in Sirius' defence, he hadn't done this in months, would never have put his mouth on another man like this.

Beneath him, Remus was shaking, arching, moaning, and Sirius abandoned his balls to push his hand along Remus' stomach, gauging his progress by the tightening of Remus' abdominal muscles. He was close, so close...

"Siri, gonna—"

Sirius nodded but didn't move away, and then Remus was coming hot and salty down his throat, and Sirius stroked him through it, only pulling off when he was sure Remus was entirely finished.

He slid up Remus' sated body and kissed him gently. It took a moment for Remus to come back to himself, but when he did, he palmed Sirius' erection through his trousers for a moment before sliding the zip down and snaking his hand inside. It only took a few short pulls before Sirius was coming too, shaking and groaning, pressing his face and hot kisses into Remus' neck.

They lay tangled together on the floor, catching their breath, and Remus began to giggle.

"What?" Sirius pushed himself to his elbows and looked down.

"I anticipated a bit more romance when we started being intimate again," Remus said, giggling harder. "But it's us, I should have known I'd end up on my back on the floor, come on my shirt."

Sirius bit his lip and leaned back down, kissed Remus deeply. "We have the rest of our lives to be romantic. But if you're up for moving to the bed, we can still start on it tonight."

"The rest of our lives?" Remus asked softly, and Sirius smiled down at him.

"Forever," he confirmed, and leaned down to capture Remus' lips again. On the mantle, the clock softly chimed midnight.