FIC: Every Love and Each Regret 3.5
Aug. 2nd, 2008 05:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
leashy_bebesEvery Love and Each Regret
Part 3, Chapter 5
Lyrics from Elvis Costello's Talking in the Dark
we could talk like we're in love or talk like we're above it
we could talk and talk until we talk ourselves out of it
Sirius is determined that today will be the day. Remus should be home anytime now, and Harry is already half asleep, lulled by Shepherd's Pie (Harry adores anything with mashed potatoes which he seems to regard as some kind of hair styling product) and games with Sirius.
Now, with Harry snoozing in the crook of his arm on the sofa (and Sirius knows Harry should fall asleep in his own bed, but there is some incredible trust in such a tiny person falling asleep against you, and Sirius can't bring himself to move Harry) Sirius feels like he has learnt a lot from the past, from his mistakes. For example, Remus has been working today, and Sirius hasn't tried once to persuade him that he doesn't have to take these jobs when they come up. He knows and Remus knows that Sirius has money enough to support all three of them more than comfortably for a long time. Remus knows that Sirius will cover bills and food and clothes and everything that they need, and lets him when he has to. Sirius supposes he can’t really ask more than that.
He wonders with a wry grin if they have grown up. Things are certainly immeasurably better, that's for sure. Sirius hasn't resorted to a dreamless sleep or any other sort of potion in a couple of months now and he doesn't think he will again. They were useful at the time, an indispensable crutch but Sirius hadn't felt any urge to carry on taking them indefinitely. Besides they leave him - especially the dreamless - fuzzy and hungover and useless in the mornings, and there is no way he could deal with Harry in that state.
Harry is growing - way too quickly for Sirius' liking - from a toddler to a little boy. He's bright and funny and inquisitive and Sirius takes an irrational pride in watching him talk to Remus or run around their garden on chubby legs that are still sometimes ever so slightly unsteady. Remus thinks Harry has inherited James' dodgy eyesight because of the way he squints at things sometimes but it doesn't seem too bad so they just monitor it.
Much as it's everything he'd once pledged to avoid like the plague, this - he tries not to think the word because it feels like a betrayal - this family this is quite brilliant at times. It's hard, he's not denying that, but Harry is so easy to love and Remus is so - well, he's Remus and he's perfect. In a domestic setting, Sirius hurriedly adds in his mind. He seems to know an awful lot of cleaning and cooking and healing spells, as well as having a comprehensive knowledge of childhood ailments, both magical and muggle. Sirius knows that Remus probably learned those things from a book in the first few months when - and Sirius hates himself for it - Remus was basically doing this on his own. Sometimes it annoys Sirius that Remus doesn't get as worried as he does and won't let him sanitise surface as often as he'd like. Most of the time it works though, the three of them work well together. Remus does most of the cleaning and Sirius most of the cooking. They love Harry and he turns to both of them equally when he wants food or conversation or attention or affection. Sirius is home almost every day and night except when Remus demands he takes a few hours for himself and packs him off to their local.
Remus has been working all week, which is rare. Mostly, he helps out at a friend's shop three days a week and is home the rest of the time. Last week though he'd been offered a day's labouring work by some muggles in a pub - as a not-so-gentle tease, Remus had been sure, cracking a joke to Sirius about werewolf strength giving them a shock in the morning. Their boss had been pleasantly surprised and offered Remus a week's work helping some of his lads clearing a dramatically overrun garden. The cash-in-hand, no-questions-asked money was too good for Remus to turn down, even though it had meant leaving at seven in the morning, and not getting home until gone six in the evening, and working without magic.
Realising that Harry is fully asleep, Sirius stands carefully and lifts him gently from the sofa. Harry still sprawls as bonelessly in his sleep as he had when he was just a few days old, and the sight always makes Sirius smile. Upstairs, Sirius tucks Harry into his tiny bed, recently transfigured at Harry's insistence and stands looking around the room for a few moments. Opposite Harry's bed is the collage of photographs, constantly expanding because Sirius has discovered a love of photography and is doing his best to thoroughly document Harry's every milestone, and even just average days. Lately, Sirius has started transforming into Padfoot around Harry, letting him associate his godfather with the dog. Remus had taken a photo of Harry lying on the floor along Padfoot's side, scribbling a picture with a red crayon. The photo is very still compared to the others on the wall, just Harry's hand moving across the paper in haphazard circles and Padfoot's tail thumping lazily.
Hearing the front door open, Sirius trails gentle fingertips over Harry's forehead and leaves the room. Before he goes, he flicks his wand at the magical nightlight Remus had bought with his last paycheck, sending dragons and hippogriffs and mermen dancing across the ceiling, and soft, barely audible music filled the room. Harry had loved the thing on sight, and Sirius knows that would be enough to thrill Remus. Even better though, Harry hadn't had a single nightmare since the light had taken up residence in his room.
Downstairs, he finds Remus with his head under the tap, soaking his face and hair, gulping down the odd mouthful of water. Sirius shoves him gently, sending the water cascading down the back of his neck instead.
"Idiot!" Remus laughs, cupping a handful of water and flicking it at Sirius who dances out of the way and waves his wand at the remains of the Shepherd's Pie, warming it through. As Remus rubs his hair with a tea towel, Sirius summons two muggle beers and passes one to Remus who looks at him with a tired but grateful smile and says, "You'll make someone a wonderful wife one day, Padfoot."
He seems to realise what he's said and pops open his beer, taking a deep draught to cover his awkwardness. The hell with that, Sirius thinks.
"What with me being so pretty and all that," Sirius leers.
Remus chokes on his beer - or his laughter, Sirius isn't sure - and says, "Yes, very pretty," without any apparent joking inflection. He sets his beer down and crosses the kitchen to sniff at the steam coming off the pie. "Smells good," he says with a grin, squeezing Sirius' wrist briefly before moving off the cut some bread.
It's little touches like that which make Sirius so certain that it needs to be tonight. Or at least soon. It's not like it's ever romantic, but they touch each other a lot. When all of them are home together, they usually end up sprawled on the sofa with Harry between them, and Remus often fidgets idly with Sirius' sleeves or his fingers. He gives both Harry and Sirius hugs goodbye in the morning and as they cook, or eat, or talk about Harry or the house, Remus' fingers often find Sirius' skin in some way, usually the back of his neck.
It's not much, but it's comfortable, and in the light of a thought that had quite literally woken Sirius up a few weeks ago and which he is going to share with Remus - tonight - that seems important. He doesn't think it will be too hard to make Remus at least talk about it. He's a man of his word after all. Nonetheless, he looks knackered and Sirius waits until after they've finished eating and he's scourgified all the plates. They retire to the sofa and while Remus takes a quick detour upstairs to check on Harry, Sirius grabs another couple of beers and steels himself.
"He's fine," Remus says, accepting the beer with a grin and collapsing onto the sofa with a bone deep sigh. Their legs bump with Remus' motion but he doesn't try to move away from Sirius and he takes that as a good sign.
"D'you remember something you said to me a while ago?"
"Care to specify a bit?" Remus offers. "I've said a fair few things over the years."
"You - " Sirius has to clear his throat before he can continue. "You said once that after we won the war, we would talk about…things."
"Ah," Remus says, nodding and taking another swallow of his beer before setting it down on the floor. He nods once more and licks his lips unconsciously before sitting back and looking at Sirius expectantly.
"I'm not going to chew your ear off about it if you still don't want to, but will you just hear me out on a couple of things?" Sirius asks.
"Of course," Remus nods again.
"Oi," Sirius protests. "Don't go all polite and stiff on me." Remus quirks an eyebrow and Sirius realises what he's said. "Not - fuck, what are you, twelve again now?"
"Sorry, go on," Remus says, straightening his face. "I'm listening. Really."
"Alright. Well. First of all, we did used to be great and I won't let you deny that. And look at how we are now, how good we are at all this ridiculous, difficult, grown up shit." Remus nods but Sirius doesn't pause to acknowledge the agreement, too scared that he will lose either his thread or his nerve. "I know you probably think that we just…died out, like not very special relationships do and I did for a while too. But we were special, we were great together. And I know it sounds like an easy excuse but I honestly believe that if it wasn't for the war, and for - " he stumbles over Peter's name, tongue-tied and helpless for a second before continuing, " - if it wasn't for what happened with all that, we'd still be together and I think you know it. It was shit, and I’m not denying that, but come on. Think about it. I cannot believe we would have got sick of each other without other people's suspicions and outside pressure, we would have just got more…comfortable. More like we are now." He clamps his mouth shut before the ever present mischievous and slightly self destructive part of him adds, 'But with, you know, rather a lot of sex.' Instead he mumbles, “Alright, you think up a reply, I’ll go and find my balls, they’re obviously absent without leave.”
Remus snorts with laughter and sits quietly for a moment before picking up his beer and twirling it around in his hands awkwardly.
"Can you forgive me?" Sirius asks softly. "I mean, I'm not asking you to and actually do it right this second, but can you? For - you know - that bloke."
Remus takes a quick drink and sets his beer down.
"I did some things," he says and rubs a hand over his eyes.
Sirius takes a deep breath and reminds himself that he has no moral high ground, none whatsoever, and no room to complain. He tries to joke instead. "By 'things', do you mean 'people'?"
"Um. Yes," Remus says hesitantly.
"Anyone I know?" Sirius asks with a falsely light tone in his voice.
"Of course not," Remus says softly, shaking his head.
“Alright, so…” Sirius rubs his nose and looks away. “I don’t – there’s nothing I can really say, is there? My fault, in the long run. I know you said you couldn’t do this, but – I don’t know, it’s us isn’t it? There’s always going to be something where we’re concerned and – Moony?” Sirius waits until Remus looks up at him. “Can we start again? Can you?”
"I think I could," he says quietly and Sirius' heart pounds.
"But?" he prompts.
Remus shrugs. "I don't know. I'd love it if you were right about all of this, but what if you’re not?"
"Then I'm not," Sirius says. "We already know we can be adults about this. This won't hurt Harry, Moony, I promise. We won't let it."
"How do you do that?" Remus asks with a smile.
"Do what?" Sirius asks.
"See into my bloody head," Remus grumbles, tapping his fingers on his knee. "Alright," he says suddenly and it's so abrupt that Sirius almost misses it.
"Beg your pardon?"
"I said, 'alright'," Remus grins. “Not going to find anyone better am I?”
“What? Moony, I don’t think you could do much worse. Not that I’m trying to change your mind,” Sirius adds hastily.
“Should think not,” Remus scolds.
“You really mean it, don’t you? This is great – ” Sirius babbles.
“Stop talking now,” Remus says. “I’m going to kiss you.”
four and a half months later...
Part 3, Chapter 5
Lyrics from Elvis Costello's Talking in the Dark
we could talk like we're in love or talk like we're above it
we could talk and talk until we talk ourselves out of it
Sirius is determined that today will be the day. Remus should be home anytime now, and Harry is already half asleep, lulled by Shepherd's Pie (Harry adores anything with mashed potatoes which he seems to regard as some kind of hair styling product) and games with Sirius.
Now, with Harry snoozing in the crook of his arm on the sofa (and Sirius knows Harry should fall asleep in his own bed, but there is some incredible trust in such a tiny person falling asleep against you, and Sirius can't bring himself to move Harry) Sirius feels like he has learnt a lot from the past, from his mistakes. For example, Remus has been working today, and Sirius hasn't tried once to persuade him that he doesn't have to take these jobs when they come up. He knows and Remus knows that Sirius has money enough to support all three of them more than comfortably for a long time. Remus knows that Sirius will cover bills and food and clothes and everything that they need, and lets him when he has to. Sirius supposes he can’t really ask more than that.
He wonders with a wry grin if they have grown up. Things are certainly immeasurably better, that's for sure. Sirius hasn't resorted to a dreamless sleep or any other sort of potion in a couple of months now and he doesn't think he will again. They were useful at the time, an indispensable crutch but Sirius hadn't felt any urge to carry on taking them indefinitely. Besides they leave him - especially the dreamless - fuzzy and hungover and useless in the mornings, and there is no way he could deal with Harry in that state.
Harry is growing - way too quickly for Sirius' liking - from a toddler to a little boy. He's bright and funny and inquisitive and Sirius takes an irrational pride in watching him talk to Remus or run around their garden on chubby legs that are still sometimes ever so slightly unsteady. Remus thinks Harry has inherited James' dodgy eyesight because of the way he squints at things sometimes but it doesn't seem too bad so they just monitor it.
Much as it's everything he'd once pledged to avoid like the plague, this - he tries not to think the word because it feels like a betrayal - this family this is quite brilliant at times. It's hard, he's not denying that, but Harry is so easy to love and Remus is so - well, he's Remus and he's perfect. In a domestic setting, Sirius hurriedly adds in his mind. He seems to know an awful lot of cleaning and cooking and healing spells, as well as having a comprehensive knowledge of childhood ailments, both magical and muggle. Sirius knows that Remus probably learned those things from a book in the first few months when - and Sirius hates himself for it - Remus was basically doing this on his own. Sometimes it annoys Sirius that Remus doesn't get as worried as he does and won't let him sanitise surface as often as he'd like. Most of the time it works though, the three of them work well together. Remus does most of the cleaning and Sirius most of the cooking. They love Harry and he turns to both of them equally when he wants food or conversation or attention or affection. Sirius is home almost every day and night except when Remus demands he takes a few hours for himself and packs him off to their local.
Remus has been working all week, which is rare. Mostly, he helps out at a friend's shop three days a week and is home the rest of the time. Last week though he'd been offered a day's labouring work by some muggles in a pub - as a not-so-gentle tease, Remus had been sure, cracking a joke to Sirius about werewolf strength giving them a shock in the morning. Their boss had been pleasantly surprised and offered Remus a week's work helping some of his lads clearing a dramatically overrun garden. The cash-in-hand, no-questions-asked money was too good for Remus to turn down, even though it had meant leaving at seven in the morning, and not getting home until gone six in the evening, and working without magic.
Realising that Harry is fully asleep, Sirius stands carefully and lifts him gently from the sofa. Harry still sprawls as bonelessly in his sleep as he had when he was just a few days old, and the sight always makes Sirius smile. Upstairs, Sirius tucks Harry into his tiny bed, recently transfigured at Harry's insistence and stands looking around the room for a few moments. Opposite Harry's bed is the collage of photographs, constantly expanding because Sirius has discovered a love of photography and is doing his best to thoroughly document Harry's every milestone, and even just average days. Lately, Sirius has started transforming into Padfoot around Harry, letting him associate his godfather with the dog. Remus had taken a photo of Harry lying on the floor along Padfoot's side, scribbling a picture with a red crayon. The photo is very still compared to the others on the wall, just Harry's hand moving across the paper in haphazard circles and Padfoot's tail thumping lazily.
Hearing the front door open, Sirius trails gentle fingertips over Harry's forehead and leaves the room. Before he goes, he flicks his wand at the magical nightlight Remus had bought with his last paycheck, sending dragons and hippogriffs and mermen dancing across the ceiling, and soft, barely audible music filled the room. Harry had loved the thing on sight, and Sirius knows that would be enough to thrill Remus. Even better though, Harry hadn't had a single nightmare since the light had taken up residence in his room.
Downstairs, he finds Remus with his head under the tap, soaking his face and hair, gulping down the odd mouthful of water. Sirius shoves him gently, sending the water cascading down the back of his neck instead.
"Idiot!" Remus laughs, cupping a handful of water and flicking it at Sirius who dances out of the way and waves his wand at the remains of the Shepherd's Pie, warming it through. As Remus rubs his hair with a tea towel, Sirius summons two muggle beers and passes one to Remus who looks at him with a tired but grateful smile and says, "You'll make someone a wonderful wife one day, Padfoot."
He seems to realise what he's said and pops open his beer, taking a deep draught to cover his awkwardness. The hell with that, Sirius thinks.
"What with me being so pretty and all that," Sirius leers.
Remus chokes on his beer - or his laughter, Sirius isn't sure - and says, "Yes, very pretty," without any apparent joking inflection. He sets his beer down and crosses the kitchen to sniff at the steam coming off the pie. "Smells good," he says with a grin, squeezing Sirius' wrist briefly before moving off the cut some bread.
It's little touches like that which make Sirius so certain that it needs to be tonight. Or at least soon. It's not like it's ever romantic, but they touch each other a lot. When all of them are home together, they usually end up sprawled on the sofa with Harry between them, and Remus often fidgets idly with Sirius' sleeves or his fingers. He gives both Harry and Sirius hugs goodbye in the morning and as they cook, or eat, or talk about Harry or the house, Remus' fingers often find Sirius' skin in some way, usually the back of his neck.
It's not much, but it's comfortable, and in the light of a thought that had quite literally woken Sirius up a few weeks ago and which he is going to share with Remus - tonight - that seems important. He doesn't think it will be too hard to make Remus at least talk about it. He's a man of his word after all. Nonetheless, he looks knackered and Sirius waits until after they've finished eating and he's scourgified all the plates. They retire to the sofa and while Remus takes a quick detour upstairs to check on Harry, Sirius grabs another couple of beers and steels himself.
"He's fine," Remus says, accepting the beer with a grin and collapsing onto the sofa with a bone deep sigh. Their legs bump with Remus' motion but he doesn't try to move away from Sirius and he takes that as a good sign.
"D'you remember something you said to me a while ago?"
"Care to specify a bit?" Remus offers. "I've said a fair few things over the years."
"You - " Sirius has to clear his throat before he can continue. "You said once that after we won the war, we would talk about…things."
"Ah," Remus says, nodding and taking another swallow of his beer before setting it down on the floor. He nods once more and licks his lips unconsciously before sitting back and looking at Sirius expectantly.
"I'm not going to chew your ear off about it if you still don't want to, but will you just hear me out on a couple of things?" Sirius asks.
"Of course," Remus nods again.
"Oi," Sirius protests. "Don't go all polite and stiff on me." Remus quirks an eyebrow and Sirius realises what he's said. "Not - fuck, what are you, twelve again now?"
"Sorry, go on," Remus says, straightening his face. "I'm listening. Really."
"Alright. Well. First of all, we did used to be great and I won't let you deny that. And look at how we are now, how good we are at all this ridiculous, difficult, grown up shit." Remus nods but Sirius doesn't pause to acknowledge the agreement, too scared that he will lose either his thread or his nerve. "I know you probably think that we just…died out, like not very special relationships do and I did for a while too. But we were special, we were great together. And I know it sounds like an easy excuse but I honestly believe that if it wasn't for the war, and for - " he stumbles over Peter's name, tongue-tied and helpless for a second before continuing, " - if it wasn't for what happened with all that, we'd still be together and I think you know it. It was shit, and I’m not denying that, but come on. Think about it. I cannot believe we would have got sick of each other without other people's suspicions and outside pressure, we would have just got more…comfortable. More like we are now." He clamps his mouth shut before the ever present mischievous and slightly self destructive part of him adds, 'But with, you know, rather a lot of sex.' Instead he mumbles, “Alright, you think up a reply, I’ll go and find my balls, they’re obviously absent without leave.”
Remus snorts with laughter and sits quietly for a moment before picking up his beer and twirling it around in his hands awkwardly.
"Can you forgive me?" Sirius asks softly. "I mean, I'm not asking you to and actually do it right this second, but can you? For - you know - that bloke."
Remus takes a quick drink and sets his beer down.
"I did some things," he says and rubs a hand over his eyes.
Sirius takes a deep breath and reminds himself that he has no moral high ground, none whatsoever, and no room to complain. He tries to joke instead. "By 'things', do you mean 'people'?"
"Um. Yes," Remus says hesitantly.
"Anyone I know?" Sirius asks with a falsely light tone in his voice.
"Of course not," Remus says softly, shaking his head.
“Alright, so…” Sirius rubs his nose and looks away. “I don’t – there’s nothing I can really say, is there? My fault, in the long run. I know you said you couldn’t do this, but – I don’t know, it’s us isn’t it? There’s always going to be something where we’re concerned and – Moony?” Sirius waits until Remus looks up at him. “Can we start again? Can you?”
"I think I could," he says quietly and Sirius' heart pounds.
"But?" he prompts.
Remus shrugs. "I don't know. I'd love it if you were right about all of this, but what if you’re not?"
"Then I'm not," Sirius says. "We already know we can be adults about this. This won't hurt Harry, Moony, I promise. We won't let it."
"How do you do that?" Remus asks with a smile.
"Do what?" Sirius asks.
"See into my bloody head," Remus grumbles, tapping his fingers on his knee. "Alright," he says suddenly and it's so abrupt that Sirius almost misses it.
"Beg your pardon?"
"I said, 'alright'," Remus grins. “Not going to find anyone better am I?”
“What? Moony, I don’t think you could do much worse. Not that I’m trying to change your mind,” Sirius adds hastily.
“Should think not,” Remus scolds.
“You really mean it, don’t you? This is great – ” Sirius babbles.
“Stop talking now,” Remus says. “I’m going to kiss you.”
four and a half months later...
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-08-02 05:53 pm (UTC)Sirius' speech was marvelous and heartfelt and I especially loved this: Think about it. I cannot believe we would have got sick of each other without other people's suspicions and outside pressure, we would have just got more…comfortable. More like we are now." He clamps his mouth shut before the ever present mischievous and slightly self destructive part of him adds, 'But with, you know, rather a lot of sex.' Instead he mumbles, “Alright, you think up a reply, I’ll go and find my balls, they’re obviously absent without leave.”
I love how thy both recognized the negative influence of outside factors but, more importantly, have learned how truly comfortable, safe, and loving their relationship really is.
Wonderful.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-02 06:28 pm (UTC)