e v e r y t h i n g . l o o k s . p e r f e c t . f r o m . f a r . a w a y

Everything Looks Perfect from Far Away
[by victoria p.]

Rating: G

Summary: "He knows he will never have Sirius, has made peace with it, and if he hasn't actually moved on, he's at least given up waiting for Sirius to come around."

Notes: Title from The Postal Service. One of those 4am ideas that never coalesce into a full-on story.

Date: October 2, 2005

Whenever Sirius visits Remus at work, the girls swarm around him, waitresses and customers alike. He takes it as his due, smiling and flirting with them. He occasionally goes home with one or another, though never the same one twice.

Tonight, it's a little blonde Muggle with big tits and a snub nose. Sirius has one arm slung around her shoulders as they drink, and her laugh is grating even above the music and chatter in the pub. Remus makes sure Sirius's pint is never empty, reaching out without even looking, because he just knows. He is always aware of Sirius, even when he's out of sight; Sirius is like an ache in his bones, a spark under his skin, the bright star around whom they all revolve.

"Jealous?" Lily teases him and he realizes he's been staring at them for a bit, lost in thought.

He wrinkles his nose. "She's not my type."

Lily's grin is sly, her eyes sparkling. "I wasn't talking about her."

Remus's hand tightens around the glass he's cleaning, but he forces out a laugh. "Don't be daft."

"I'm not the daft one," she replies, jerking her chin at Sirius, who has turned his attention to the brunette on his left.

Remus laughs again, more naturally this time, and ignores the way his stomach twists in jealousy. "I've been seeing someone," he confides, and it's not exactly a lie. He knows he will never have Sirius, has made peace with it, and if he hasn't actually moved on, he's at least given up waiting for Sirius to come around and started to have a little fun on his own. He moves down the bar to serve some newcomers and avoid any more of Lily's pointed looks and questions.

At the end of the evening, he's standing outside the pub, contemplating whether he's too tired to Apparate, when Sirius says, "Who is it, then?"

Remus whirls, startled. "Sirius?"

"Who are you seeing?"

"I thought you went off with that blonde bird."

Sirius flicks his fag into the gutter and moves closer. "You told Lily you were seeing someone."

"Nobody special," he hedges, shrugging a shoulder, surprised that Sirius had been listening, that he even cared.

Sirius is not appeased. "Who is it?"

"Hyacinth Mortmain." And then, feeling brave, "Robert Walsh." Sirius's gasp makes Remus's stomach clench, and he curses softly at his own stupidity.

"Robert Walsh is a pillock."

"But he gives good head." He means it as a joke, though it's the truth. What he really wants to say is, It's none of your goddamned business, or Maybe if you weren't so busy fucking every girl who looked your way, you'd have known, or, much more dangerously, I wish it were you. But he doesn't. He can't.

"Fuck, Remus." Sirius shakes his head, though Remus isn't sure if it's in disgust or anger. He knows better than to hope it's jealousy. "You can tell Lily but not me?"

Remus makes a sound that's more bitterness than laughter. "You don't exactly seem interested."

"Fuck you." Sirius shoves at him and he shoves back, but then Sirius surprises him again, grabs two handfuls of his shirt and pulls. Caught off guard, Remus stumbles forward, right into Sirius's kiss.

It's not gentle or even pleasant at first. Their teeth collide painfully, and Remus can taste blood from where his lip has split. But Sirius is kissing him, tentative touch of tongue between his teeth, slick-hot against the roof of his mouth when he opens up and lets him in. Sirius eases off, hands coming up to cup his cheeks, thread through his hair, and Remus shivers against him, moaning softly into his mouth.

"You're a pillock," he says when Sirius finally pulls away, but he reaches up to push Sirius's hair behind his ear, run a thumb along the perfect arch of his cheek.

"Yeah, maybe," Sirius replies, leaning in to suck at his lower lip. "But I give great head."

Remus freezes, fingers tightening in Sirius's hair, wondering if this is some kind of joke. "Is that an offer?"

With a wild laugh against his mouth, Sirius sounds breathless and a little surprised when he says, "Yes."

end

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