small_gifts | Fic: Friends in Low Places for ozymannedias

Title: Friends in Low Places
Author:

taigne
Written for:

ozymannedias
Rating: R for sexual situations
Prompts: coming out and running away, “ ‘Girls on motorbikes? A bit cliché don’t you think, Padfoot?’ ‘Oh. Is that what they look like to you then?’”, Christmas traditions
Summary: Sirius writes a letter to his parents rather than have another argument.
Any other notes, warnings, etc.: Huge thanks to

snow_blossoms who poked me to fix the ending, hopefully it is now devoid of excessive twee

Friends in Low Places

“It’s not my fault! The idiotic hat put me in Gryffindor, and I have to share my room with them. Potter thinks we’re friends!”

“Half-breeds and blood traitors, it’s appalling! You’re spared that for the holidays at least, I’ll just write this reply to see that you aren’t troubled any further.”

Sirius smiled at his mother in relief. The eleven-year-old wasn’t sure why he had been sorted into Gryffindor, but the fact that it was already causing problems at home did not bode well.

*

“I’ve instructed them to leave me alone, mother, but they insist on following me!”

“I understand; obviously even the lowly can see you are worth attaining the good graces of. But really Sirius, you must not be such a bleeding heart. Their kind will never learn unless you are more severe with them.”

“No, mother.”

Sirius resolved to not receive this reprimand again next term. It wouldn’t do, not for the Black heir.

*

“Regulus is a little toerag then. He’s lying, I don’t want to be like them!”

“You’ve even picked up their common language, Sirius. We’ll have to see that that stops immediately. You must make an effort, you’re letting us down terribly, carrying on in such an unrefined manner!”

Guilt choked thirteen-year-old Sirius’ reply. He looked down dispiritedly at his well-shined shoes.

“I’m sorry, mother.”

*

“Sirius here has to put up with that sort all the time, I’m afraid, the riffraff they let into that school these days. It’s very hard on him, surrounded by mudbloods and half-breeds in that House, isn’t that right Sirius?”

“Yes, father.”

“How dreadful, my boy. Still, you’re spared all that at home. Fine company tonight, Orion.”

“Oh yes, and times are changing, thankfully. People aren’t so likely to continue to let standards slide if a certain promising new regime can build up enough momentum. I fully intend to lend the support of the House of Black, of course.”

At fourteen, Sirius knew enough that he was concerned by that, but he did not yet understand what it would eventually mean. The politics and prejudices of school life were hard enough to navigate. His family versus his friends was not a choice he wanted to make, not when the real world had so many more consequences than adolescent rivalry and House pride.

*

“You know, Moony, you’re pretty cool, yeah?” Too close, cheeks burning, stop sweating, don’t breathe so heavily, sweet Merlin, just answer, please…

“Um, thanks. Not as cool as you though, Sirius. Or Padfoot.” Remus’ smile was beautiful and oblivious. Sirius grasped at the fervent hope that he wasn’t blushing too obviously.

“No, I mean, you’re, I like…” Sirius glared at Remus, willing him to understand this. How could he not? It was all Sirius had thought about since the beginning of term.

Remus’s eyes widened in comprehension and then, before he could bolt, Sirius was desperately flinging himself forwards and kissing Remus, and Remus was kissing him and they were springing apart at the sound of clomping footsteps on the dormitory stairs.

“I think you’re pretty cool too, Sirius,” Remus breathed.

*

The look his mother gave him for his outburst was one he had only ever seen turned on house-elves or the mudbloods (no, Muggleborns) at the station. For the first time, Sirius was not sure if his mother would forgive him. His ears roared as he stared at her, wide-eyed in disbelief at his own words. He couldn’t even remember exactly what he had said, but defending Andromeda and Ted’s marriage had only been the beginning of what became an equal rights rant, and he knew should have stopped long before criticising the self-styled Dark Lord.

His repentance was apologetic silence for the rest of the holiday, but his mother did not give an inch. He wished he didn’t still love his parents, not when he was beginning to finally, fully realise what they stood for. He was no longer sure whether they loved him.

*

Regulus reported on his increasingly anti-pureblood behaviour, wide-spread via the Hogwarts rumour mill. Sirius Black, aged sixteen, was as vocal as he could be at school. The vitriolic letters his parents sent to him (no howlers, Blacks didn’t air their dirty laundry in public) only fuelled his drive. And so at home he was forced to listen to all the reasons why ‘Muggleborns are inferior’, why ‘magical creatures need to be controlled and culled’, why ‘Voldemort is a great crusader’, for hours and hours. He almost wished his father would hex him, rather than shove this intolerant, bigoted drivel down his throat and expect him to swallow it like a good Black, singing the praises of the Dark Lord.

It was only the silencing curse and body-bind he had been subjected to that stopped him from denouncing his family there and then. The guilt Sirius’ felt now was for ever having believed any of it. And that was before his mother began to explain their plans for him to fulfil his duty as heir.

*

James whistled as he surveyed the bright Muggle posters, some shop-bought, some clearly cut from magazines. They were very Sirius, exactly the kind of thing that would piss off his parents. James wondered if he’d used a surreptitious permanent sticking charm.

“Girls on motorbikes? A bit cliché don’t you think, Padfoot?”

“Oh. Is that what they look like to you then?” Sirius mumbled from his hunched position at the heavy oak desk.

“I charmed them to look like whatever appeals to the viewer. Not my fault, what you see is what you want.” He didn’t want to point out that he didn’t actually dare put them up unadulterated in his parent’s house, no matter the ire he expelled against them at school. Dismissing the posters, Sirius gestured for James to sit and his best friend perched himself on the fine sheets of the stiff mattress.

“The parents are out, but we have to be quick,” Sirius’ tone was urgent, and James sobered quickly, “I’m leaving here, for good, and I need a place to stay for a while. Can I come to yours?”

“But, what..” James stuttered, this was sudden, even for Sirius. “Don’t you think…?”

“I am being mature about this James,” Sirius cut him off in a clipped tone. “I am writing a letter to inform my parents that I am gay and an equal rights sympathiser. And telling them of my decision to leave because I know in no uncertain terms that that will be the straw that breaks the camel’s back when it comes to their tolerance of me. I’ve cleared what I can from my bank accounts tied to the family vault and opened a new one.”

“But why?”

“I don’t want another shouting match, I don’t want to be around these people, forced to listen their prejudiced, arcane ranting, and Regulus’ smarmy superiority. I am not privileged to stay under their roof, and I will do something I’ll regret if I stay. I’m not going to dump Moony in it, but I am going to tell them exactly why I’m not marrying any lineage obsessed pureblood bitch just to appease them.”

“What I mean is, do you have to tell them anything? You shared a dorm with me without telling me for four months; can’t you just ignore them? We’re only sixteen Sirius; I know I’m not ready to leave home. Sure it might sound like a great adventure, but I think the reality is rather different!”

Sirius looked at his best friend with a lump in his throat. He didn’t explain his families opinions and doings to his friends in great detail, because he refused to be a girly nonce about it. Pouring out his feelings was a guaranteed way to fulfil a lot of stereotypes he rather protested. It hurt, the bitterness that rose in him when he realised James couldn’t and never would really understand. He knew he should be glad James was spared that.

“I am all about reality here, mate. If I don’t get out now, I’m going to end up on the wrong side of the war that’s coming. James, I’m gonna be stuck here, with no way out from their sick, twisted sycophantism. They, I, I don’t think there’s much they’ll not do to make sure I’m loyal. I can’t risk that, I can’t risk you and Remus like that either. Better to get out while I can.” His fervent belief in his words and his desperation bled through, despite Sirius’ attempt at even tones.

“Sure, mate,” James nodded finally and stood. “Better be off then, I suppose.”

*

“Ah, the Black family Christmas traditions, how I’m not missing them in the slightest.
Donating to charitable Muggle-baiting causes, having the house-elves boil their hands for not putting enough alcohol in the pudding, Father downing enough booze to make up for it and then some. Relatives getting looked down on and sneered at for being poorer and less egomaniacal. It’s a very busy time of year for them, Mrs. Potter.”

James winced at Sirius’ false cheer, he hoped his mother didn’t take that declaration the wrong way. Sirius was hard to read when he was like this, his mood could flip at the drop of a hat.

“Still, I can’t believe there’s been no contact from you parents, Sirius. Surely they’re worried?”

Sirius snorted at that.

“They can’t respond while I’m here. You’re purebloods too, and blood wins out over affiliations in the ‘embarrassment in public’ stakes. They’d rather ignore me completely than have a go. I’m sure they’re desperate to ‘re-educate’ me about being a fairy, like they try to about my ‘overly liberal views’ every opportunity that they get. After the obligatory sneering and bemoaning the fact Regulus was born second and I was born at all!”

James could see that Sirius completely believed every word. He thought he did too, but his mother was clearly about to play devil’s advocate, she could never help herself there. He grimaced in anticipation.

“Well I’m not saying I agree with your mother, Sirius, but I do understand her position. She obviously cares a great deal about your family image, and you have to admit you’re not helping that by…” Mrs Potter trailed off as Sirius face closed off and he stood abruptly.

“Gotta write an owl,” Sirius announced gruffly and stalked out of the living room.

*

“Who’d you write to then?” James knew, but he was fumbling for a way to start the conversation. Sirius gave him an insulting look and rolled his eyes, blinking when snow caught on his dusty lashes.

“Remus, he’s flooing to meet me, we’ll go out, I’ll get a room in that inn down by the park or something. Just, please don’t let my parents know I’ve gone. I’ll get my stuff tomorrow.”

The look in Sirius’ eyes said his mind was made up, but James tried anyway.

“Look, you can come back in if you want. Mum won’t mention it any more,” he offered hopefully from behind his muffler, glasses rapidly becoming snow covered in the increasing fall.

“I can’t stay here James, I…” Sirius sighed, looking his best friend directly in the eye. “I do appreciate everything you and your parents have done for me, but I’m imposing and...,” he kicked up the settling snow lining the path and wrapped his arms around himself, pulling a strangled face. “Ugh! Bloody poofs’re supposed to be good at this mushy stuff. Ironic or somefing, innit!” Sirius was laying the uncultured accent on thick, a clear sign he was desperate to maintain his tough image right now. He broke eye contact and chewed a chapped lip. “I know you’re doin’ your best, mate, but I need someone who really understands just now.”

James shoved the surge of indignation and jealousy down as quickly as he could and clapped Sirius on the shoulder. “I get it. S’okay.” He indicated to the house with a toss of his head. “Come in for now though; bloody freezing my balls off out here!”

*

They didn’t need words to know what they wanted. Remus could see the flint in his lover’s eyes, a sense of finality and cold determination that Sirius would cling to until he could absolve himself of the guilt he hid deep down inside. Remus could comfort him, tell him that it was not a crime to love his family, that it didn’t betray his love for Remus the way he was scared it did, but Sirius still felt that burden.

The Muggle inn had two single beds, heavy smoke yellowed curtains and a television in one corner. The only other furniture was a small chest of drawers with a travel kettle on a tray on top; instant Nescafe and Typhoo, with UHT milk nestled in the cheap mugs.

They wouldn’t solve their problems tonight, now wasn’t the time. Sirius shoved the beds together and Remus checked the lock. Shedding clothing they groped for each other, to tease with hands and tongues and teeth. They had only been apart for a few days, but it could have been weeks, such was the impatience in their urgent caresses. Sirius straddled Remus as he lay back over the two mattresses, wishing they could use magic as the edges of the two beds dug into his back. It didn’t concern him for long, Sirius’ hungry tongue tasting him, skilful fingers tracing his body’s sharp angles and flat plains, until he couldn’t wait any longer.

“Ugh, yes! In, now,” Remus voice was low and demanding and rough with need. Sirius grunted his response, beyond words, as he grabbed Remus’ shoulders and stared directly into his fervour-black eyes before impaling him in one hard thrust.

Remus threw his head back in a soundless scream as pain and pleasure coursed through him. He bucked his hips desperately; encouraging the fast rhythm Sirius was building. The heady ebb and flow of Sirius moving inside him was scintillating. He felt hot and cold all at once, clawing at Sirius’ back, blunt nails leaving dull furrows on the white skin, hands unable to keep still.

Sirius knew nothing but the heat all around him and a hand twisting, haltingly, in his hair, spasming as Remus writhed in ecstasy underneath him, arching his back to meet Sirius’ thrusts as Sirius urgently tried to hold out in what was becoming a losing battle.

With a cry of desire Remus shuddered under him and came, clenching himself around Sirius. Sirius grabbed Remus’ arms, biting into his shoulder as his orgasm took him, his exclamation of release muffled by salty, sweat-slicked skin.

*

In the afterglow, Remus suggested they go for a walk. Sirius could sense the ‘so we can talk’ hidden in the proposal. The stars and crescent moon shone down, casting silver radiance across the little room when Remus pulled back on the curtain. He grinned in delight at the settled blanket of pearly white in the inn’s driveway and the park beyond.

“It’s a blank canvas Sirius, we have to go. Just look, that’s natural magic out there!”

“It’s freezing, we can’t go out like this, it’ll give my bits frost-bite! I thought you liked my bits?”

Sirius waggled his eyebrows comically and Remus got the message, ‘this isn’t what I need right now, don’t make me talk, give me time’. Rolling his eyes at the performance, understanding hiding from yourself all too well, Remus reluctantly decided to let his lover distract himself for now. But he still wanted to go.

“Even so, it’s the first snow we’ve had all year. We’ll keep your bits warm by keeping moving. It’ll have melted by tomorrow. You know I like to make a snowman with the first snow, I have for the last four years, you helped the last three. It’s a tradition now!” Sirius squirmed down under the covers, wriggling his discomfort.

“I like it in here, it’s warm. Why don’t we make doing this a new tradition, my most delicious Moony?”

Remus snorted to play along, shaking his head. “I think you have to do something several times before it becomes a tradition, and no that’s not a cue, not right now anyway!” Remus added quickly. He followed up by slipping out of bed and gathering his winter Muggle clothes.

“Damn!” Sirius flung himself upright in the bed. “Alright, we’ll do your traditiony-type thing then. Don’t suppose a covert warming charm would be in the running?”

“No, Sirius, we need to be careful, you know why.”

“I know why.” Sirius knew all the reasons for not using underage magic. He disagreed with most of them, but given that Remus was letting him off having a discussion about feelings, he would be good for a while.

*

Remus laughed as Sirius sputtered around a mouthful of snow.

“You’re losing your touch, Padfoot! That was too easy!”

The snowman had been completed quickly, due to the exultation and exuberance of Sirius once he was outside, after dark. They had even managed to find some off cuts of branches from a nearby hedge to give it antlers, and bent a long twig into a pair of lopsided glasses. Quite a feat, Sirius thought, for doing it all Muggle-style.

He was not prepared for Remus’ impromptu snowball fight, although the amount of snow left on the ground was not enough for more than a few balls each. Of course Remus had craftily saved his last one until they had called a truce. Git.

Warm breath rose in a cloud from Remus’ mouth as he laughed at Sirius’ melodramatic spluttering.

‘Keep it up,’ Sirius thought desperately ‘you can do this’. He wiped the last of the wet snow from his chin and tried to shove down the encroaching panic of ‘what the Hell was he doing?’

Then Remus’ hand was on his shoulder, mindful of the Muggles out at night, but comforting none-the-less.

“We need some of that tea, warm us up again,” he declared. Sirius grimaced at the thought of the Muggle long-life milk but agreed, too tired and preoccupied to even make a lewd suggestion about how they could warm up. Everything was so uncertain and unfocused, just now, perhaps not all his fault but at his instigation. At least the void that threatened to swallow him had a Moony blocking the way. Maybe that would be enough to thwart the dark, aching pull he felt reaching for him around the corners of distraction.

Remus tightened his grip around Sirius’ shoulders and made the joke for him.

“We’ll keep warm, even if we have to have ridiculous amounts of sex to do it,” he lowered his voice as they passed through the inn’s reception and headed up stairs to their room. “And if that doesn’t work, I’ll try stripping, I’m sure there’s somewhere you can get some brass band music this time of night, Muggle shops are good like that. Or we could see if there’s porn on the telly, I think ITV might have some…”

Remus continued to ramble into Sirius’ ear, naughty suggestions so wildly out of character that Sirius couldn’t help but chuckle. But once in the square little room they were dragged abruptly back to reality and Sirius glanced up into Remus’ worried eyes from where he had flung himself over the bed’s tangled sheets.

Noticing the direction of Remus’ gaze as he quickly looked away, Sirius let his building panic out as an incensed bark.

“Don’t you go making bloody tea Remus, that is not actually going to help this …this mess!” Sirius scowled and gripped the cheap cotton sheets compulsively. Remus sighed, chewing his lower lip. His voice, when he spoke, was careful and quiet as he came forward and knelt before Sirius on the mattress.

“What are we going to do Sirius? What… are we, will you… Just talk to me, yeah?”

Shaking his head, unable to stop the shaking of his hands, Sirius reached for Remus, grounding himself by the undemanding contact. He needed something simple right now, as life seemed to be whirling out of his grasp, his control.

“I’m all alone… I’ve got some money and my trunk with my school stuff and it’s nothing. Nothing, Remus. I’ve got nothing planned, I …” Sirius shook his head in frustration. “I thought I was being sensible, I had to get out, what they said, what they bloody stand for… but you know I’m not sensible, and I can’t stop…they’re my family, I don’t, without them I’ve… there’s just nothing…” Sirius’ eyes were huge and stung desperately but he couldn’t focus, didn’t see anything beyond the damp fabric of Remus’ trouser knees and his own hand.

Remus was quiet for a minute, and the void loomed larger by the second, a crippling ache spreading through Sirius’ chest like lead.

Then Remus’ hand covered his own, squeezed once and remained.

“I don’t know what you can do. I need time to think, we need some time. We, Sirius. I’m not nothing, I hope you know that. I’m not going away, and you’re not all alone. I won’t let you be,” Remus promised. “I’m too selfish for that, you’ve made me need you too much.” He moved forward and raised his other hand to run through Sirius’ hair. Sirius leaned into the touch, his eyes fluttering shut, revelling in the intimate contact.

“It all made sense when I was writing the letter, I knew why I was doing it, I knew I’d be able to do this. But I think I was wrong, what if I can’t? This is too big, Remus.” Sirius hated to think he sounded desperate but if he couldn’t tell Moony, who could he trust to listen and not judge him?

“I won’t say you were wrong to do it Sirius, it was right for you then. Maybe it’s for the best that you can’t take it back?” Remus, usually so calm and collected, who usually had the answers he needed, was letting him down. Sirius leant forward, until his forehead rested on Remus’ shoulder and let out a low moan.

“What can I do, Moony?”

Sirius could feel Remus exhaling sharply, it ruffled his hair.

“Right now, probably not a lot,” Sirius was shoved off Remus shoulder and found himself eye to determined eye with him. “Except you can stop all this ‘I’ stuff. It’s ‘we’ alright? I know you had a lot of reasons for leaving, but I was one of them and I don’t intend to thank you for that by abandoning you now. No, I don’t know what to do, but ‘we’ are going to work it out. Together, alright?”

Sirius mouth opened and closed on his response. Opened again to whisper “Thank you.”

This was why he had left. Because he needed this understanding and this boy becoming a man and everything that they might have together. He needed to be free to give himself away. And maybe there were a lot of unsolved problems that would all need answers in the morning. But maybe he could face the morning with Remus.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

ozymannedias.livejournal.com

You have no idea how many of my days you just made. In the heat of exams and the snafus of real life, this was exactly what I needed. There's so much great stuff I wouldn't even know where to start - it's hot and sweet and understated and gah when they first kiss! You used the line in the prompt so perfectly, and I have never read another fic where Mrs. Potter doesn't understand. It adds a whole new dimension to Sirius's stress level. I just loved every bit of it! Thank you!

Oh, and Snow!Prongs=BRILLIANT.

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stocking stuffers, more like....

Fic: Friends in Low Places for ozymannedias

Fic: Friends in Low Places for ozymannedias

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