Word Count: 1,693
Pairings: Remus/Sirius
Era: MWPP
Disclaimer: I do not own any bit of the Harry Potter-verse, as created by J.K. Rowling. I also have no ownership on the plot, script, or songs of the musical Bare: A Pop Opera, upon which this is all based.
Summary: While doing a production of the musical Bare: A Pop Opera for class, the Marauders discover alarming parallels between themselves and the characters they play. The script begins to affect their relationships with one another, and changes their understanding of themselves. Sirius/Remus, with a little James/Lily on the side.

Important Notes: Not familiar with the plot of Bare? I recommend giving the Wikipedia summary a quick scan. It's a quick read and it will help, I promise. Furthermore, I am aware that this is anachronistic. Bare didn't open until 2000 and the Marauders were in school long before that. But musicals often require suspending disbelief, so I would ask you to do that now. Many thanks to Amanda, who is the most fabulous human being and reads everything for me.

Remus entered the Common Room that evening to find Sirius already sprawled across the couch, taking up as much unneeded space as possible in the universe. His shoes had been kicked off and sat at odd angles several feet away, nudging up against a circle of 2nd Years having a game of Exploding Snap on the floor. His white uniform shirt was rolled up to his elbows, the tie undone and the vest discarded in a heap beside the couch. Had Remus not known better, he would have assumed the day's lessons had been rough on Sirius, that he had worked hard from dawn till dusk, that he was weary from the day. Yet, having spent several lessons prodding Sirius back from sleep, and every other class trying to keep him from writing crude things on the side of Remus's notes, he knew this appearance was far from the truth.

"Where'd you slip off to?" Sirius the Would-Be Fatigued Hero asked, as Remus settled himself into an armchair, right next to Sirius's stinking feet.

James, who was sitting in the slightly mismatched armchair opposite Remus, Peter cross-legged in front of him, threw his tie across at Remus. He lurched forward to catch it, but the light object unraveled and fell to the floor a good six inches from the tips of Remus's fingers.

"You sure you don't want to play Seeker for Gryffindor? You'd be brilliant, Moony," James said with a laugh, flexing his arms behind his head and scanning the room— something of a nervous tic that James developed 3rd year when he discovered girls and discovered Lily. "Blimey, it feels good to have that wretched thing off my neck."

Remus, having no interest in completely disrobing to celebrate the end of lessons for the day, turned his attention to Sirius, "Professor Andersen said she'd post the cast list this afternoon, remember? I went to check."

"Oh, right, for the project thing?" Sirius asked, craning his next downwards to look at Remus. "What's a cast list, again?"

Remus stared at Sirius, incredulous. Though really, he ought not be so surprised. It wasn't unusual for Sirius to completely ignore all instruction and explanation given in class, especially in Muggle Studies. A simple O, that's why Sirius had opted for it. Well, Professor Andersen was new this year, and aware of the course's reputation, and had made it her goal to change matters— though apparently Sirius missed that speech on the first day of class, also.

He struggled valiantly to keep the exasperation from his voice as he explained the term 'cast list,' and reminded Sirius of their project— to put on a Muggle musical and experience an educational diversity often found in Muggle schools, but that Professor Andersen felt was lacking at Hogwarts. It was a wonder Remus's patience wasn't completely squandered by this point in his life, between his constant duties as 'voice of reason' and the various nonsense that went on with James and Sirius.

"Are you going to tell us what the bleedin' thing said, Moony, or are you just going to keep us in the dark for the rest of our lives?" Peter finally demanded, while James nodded and urged Remus to just 'come out with it already.'

"Considering our first rehearsal is tomorrow during class, you would have found out then, at least, but since you asked so politely, I will tell you,"

Ignoring the rather snarky comment James had to offer, Remus quickly rattled off that Sirius was playing Jason, James was playing Matt, Peter was playing Lucas, and that he was playing Peter, which made him go slightly pink around the ears, both because this announcement felt too self-congratulatory and because the role felt far too Remus-like, though only he knew to what extent.

"Oh!" Sirius sat bolt upright, "I know what this is!"

"Well, that is likely, considering we've had the script for about a wee—"

"It's the Bible, isn't it? Those are all characters in that muggle book, the one about religion, that we talked about earlier in the term, right?" Sirius was staring intently at Remus, and he couldn't help but picture a dog expectantly awaiting a treat for having gone outside to use the bathroom, instead of pissing all over the carpet. Sirius seemed to have so much pride in his revelation that Remus almost felt guilty bursting his bubble. Almost.

"There's no Lucas in the Bible. There's a Luke, but no Lucas. We're doing Bare, remember? You were supposed to read it for homework over the weekend, though it looks like dying several unsuspecting Ravenclaws a vibrant shade of chartreuse won out over that assignment," Remus admonished, giving Sirius and James his best possible reprimanding face. It was not much— especially given that his friends dwelled in a land where they did no wrong and felt no sting of regret— but he still felt that look was part of his duties. Someone had to insist on sense, even if it was ignored.

"Hey, don't look at me like that! I, at the very least, read the script and had some sense of what was actually going on while I auditioned," James retorted, indignant.

"The audition was simple," Sirius shrugged, nestling back down into the couch, his legs still taking up the entire thing so that nobody else could sit there, lest some brave soul decided to perch on his kneecaps. "I waltzed in, read some words, flirted with Evans a bit— sorry Prongs, but she was in my audition with me— and then I chatted up Amos Diggory a bit, which was weird, and it was all something of a blur. I think I tried to tap dance? I guess she liked my guts."

Remus rolled his eyes. Of course, Sirius was a perfect Jason. He could charm his way through anything, or anyone, and still brood like there was no tomorrow. "Sirius, you are an intelligent being. With that being said, how can you possibly be so dim-witted all of the time?"

Sirius opened his mouth to protest, but James cut right across, "Speaking of Evans, who's she playing?"

"Ivy," Remus answered. The object of James's unreciprocated affections. How fitting. He dug out his script and busied himself with highlighting lines, while James and Peter lamented that they would have to put on a musical, that they didn't really want to, that James only took Muggle Studies because Evans was related to muggles, and Peter only took Muggle Studies because the rest of them did and he didn't want to be the odd man out, and wasn't this assignment aggravating, and what was the point, and on and on.

"It could be fun," Sirius said fairly, idly flipping the pages of his script, though clearly watching the way the pages bent, and not actually reading a word of it.

"Especially when you get to snog Moony day and night," James teased, good-naturedly.

Sirius dropped his script, which fell onto his face, which he then flung to the floor in his hurry to confront James. It toppled to the carpet at about the same pace as Remus's stomach, which plummeted to somewhere around his feet.

"What do you mean, 'snog Moony'?"

This was the part Remus had not been looking forward to, the reason he took the long way back to Gryffindor Tower as his feet wandered round and round in thought. What would it be like playing this role opposite Sirius? Would it make a difference if it were James or Peter that Remus needed to be in love with? He told himself that it wouldn't be any different, that it would still be just as awkward, because they were friends, and they didn't feel that way about boys, none of them, and Sirius was just the same as James and Peter, and Remus felt no differently about him than he did his other friends.

Except, that wasn't true. Not in the slightest.

James had been cast as the longing, lovesick boy thrown to the side by the girl he so admired. Remus was cast as the boy struggling with his sexuality and his feelings for a lifelong friend and roommate. There was an eerie resonance of truth in all this that made Remus's skin prickle when he thought of what else Professor Andersen might know.

Meanwhile, James was making kissing faces at Sirius and producing an awful, bizarre sucking noise in the process. His eyebrows waggled suggestively as Sirius's hand flailed through the air, trying to make contact with James's face but not really succeeding in the slightest.

"You honestly didn't read the script, did you? You and Moony basically spend the whole play lusting for each other. Could be fun, eh?" James laughed, though Peter gave James a quick thwack in the shins.

Sirius looked caught, glancing back and forth between James and Remus, who couldn't meet his eye. "Is this a good idea? Maybe I shouldn't accept the part. I mean, I don't even know what I'm doing and I, well, it's just, no offense, Moony, but I don't know if I'm the right pick or if I'd be any good at this acting thing."

There it was. The truth. The confession Remus had been expecting for the past half hour, despite how sorely he wished his fears would go unfounded. That was Sirius, wasn't it? His mate. His heterosexual mate. His never-in-the-least-bit-romantically-interested, heterosexual mate. Remus knew he was a fool for ever entertaining any notion that things could be otherwise.

"Considering your nonexistent work ethic, your lack of maturity, and your unwillingness to actually learn about Muggles— which is rather the point of the class— then perhaps you should turn down the part and let people who actually care work on this," Remus snapped, shoving his script into his bag. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

Without looking back and— most importantly— without looking at Sirius, Remus hurried from the room. He needed to think and for that, he needed the refuge of solitude.