Muse

Thanks to all who have reviewed - I appreciate it! You can check out some fantastic artwork of a muse-less Remus by mific. Here's the link: http://mific.livejournal.com/3643.html


Chapter Three

Sirius was ten minutes early for the next class, arriving just after the intriguing brown-haired man. When Sirius saw him setting up his easel, his face morphed into an involuntary smile. The young artist had been stuck in his head for the past two days, much to Sirius’ chagrin. No man had ever gotten under his skin like this, let alone done so after exchanging no more than a handful of words and looks. There was just something about the man, something raw and intensely sexy that made Sirius want to do unspeakable things to him, and let the other man do equally as filthy things to him in return. Trying to force himself not to imagine those acts (it wouldn’t do to have wood when he was getting naked in a few minutes), he approached Remus Lupin - hoping he looked cooler than he felt.

‘Hi, Remus.’

The man jerked - he obviously hadn’t seen him approach - and looked up from his preparations. A smile quirked the corner of his lips, though he seemed to be attempting to fight it back.

‘Hello, Sirius,’ he murmured. ‘Nice to see you again.’

Sirius chuckled. ‘See if you’re saying that in ten minutes when you’re seeing more of me than you’d probably care to,’ he teased and he got a flash of colour along the man’s cheekbones as a reward.

‘I don’t think Serendipity got any complaints last time,’ Remus said, clearing his throat and Sirius cocked his head inquiringly.

‘So you don’t mind spending three hours looking at a naked man?’ he asked.

Remus‘ reply was swift and startling. ‘Not when he looks like you.’

Sirius was surprised by the (until now) seemingly-introverted man’s forwardness and grinned in delight. ‘Are you flirting with me, Remus Lupin?’

Remus worried his bottom lip, staring at the zip on Sirius‘ jacket with rapt interest. ‘I…I must be doing it pretty badly if you had to ask.’

Remus’ flush had deepened now and those images that Sirius was trying hold at bay came crashing back as all the different ways he could make Remus blush ran though his mind as he spoke.

‘Not at all,‘ Sirius assured the other man. ‘You’re doing a marvellous job. I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page. You do fancy blokes then?’

Remus cleared his throat again and nodded, glancing up to meet Sirius‘ gaze. ‘And you are…?’

‘Flaming, according to my friend James,’ Sirius grinned and Remus let out a breath of laughter, rolling a pencil between his fingers nervously.

The brunette had been on Remus’ mind constantly since the last lesson. Utilising the rediscovered spark of creativity Sirius had lit inside him, he’d used up a whole sketch pad in an attempt to create a decent representation of that beautiful face but, gazing at the Sirius now, he realised that he hadn’t even come close to getting it right. Sirius had angles and light and life that had to be seen in the flesh to be believed, and Remus was itching to put pencil to paper to try and capture it.

His renewed passion for his craft had bought back some of the self confidence that the accident had taken from him and he was dragging his assumed-dead flirt out for a much needed airing. He was under no illusions that anything would happen between the model and himself, but that hadn’t stopped his hand sliding into his pants at every opportunity over the last two days as he thought about all the things he’d do to Sirius if he were to get his hands on him.

‘So, Remus,‘ Sirius said, his voice breaking into Remus’ thoughts. ‘Would you fancy a drink after class?’

Remus blinked, staring at him in surprise.

Did he just read my mind?

He narrowed his eyes slightly, eyeing Sirius somewhat suspiciously. Even though some of his lost confidence had returned, Remus’ new gregariousness was fueled by bravado. It didn’t shock him that Sirius (who seemed to personify the word ’flirt’) would respond to Remus’ weak attempts at flirtatiousness, but Remus was a too-thin, scarred, broke bloke … Why the hell was Sirius - who Remus was positive he would never have pulled even at his best - be asking him out?

‘Ah…um…’

Sirius' smile lost some of its brightness and he began to withdraw. ‘If you don’t want to…’

Remus shook his head hastily. ‘No, I do,’ he said quickly. ‘Um, thanks. That would be nice.’

Sirius smiled widely and Remus couldn’t stop his own beaming grin from spreading across his face as, for a moment, they just stared at each other. Their connection was broken a second later by Serendipity who called to Sirius to ‘get your gear off, gorgeous’. The brunette smirked at her then murmured a good bye to Remus before he walked out to the dressing room. He threw Remus a look over his shoulder and inclined his head with a questioning, teasing glint in his eye. Remus bit his lip to hide his smile and shook his head to indicate he was declining the silent, faux invitation to join the other man in the dressing room. Sirius feigned disappointment, pouting as he pulled the curtain. Remus chuckled softly, feeling more cheerful than he had in a long time.

He was even more pleased when class ended and he closed the cover of his sketchpad, which was now filled with drawings of Sirius: his hands, his eyes, his lips, the curve of his backside as it met his back…

Remus had suppressed his urge to sketch anything more intimate than his last sketch of the graceful arch of Sirius‘ buttocks, feeling his body responding to the sight of so much succulent flesh laid out in front of him and recalling Sirius’ low voice in his ear during their earlier break…

‘Stop looking at me like that.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like you’re trying to crawl inside me. Not that I’d mind that but not in such a public forum. I’m getting a boner whenever I feel you looking at me.’

Remus knew he was teasing - he’d been paying enough attention to that particular part of Sirius’ body to know he wasn’t aroused, at least not enough to be obvious, but it didn’t stop Remus’ own cock twitching in his pants now as he thought about it.

‘Down, boy,’ he muttered, packing the last of his things in his bag.

‘Ready, Remus?’

He turned around to see Sirius dressed again in his leather jacket, plain black shirt and well faded jeans. Remus’ mouth actually watered and he swallowed hard as he looked away, zipping his bag shut and slinging it over his shoulder.

‘I’m ready,’ he said turned back to Sirius. ‘I don’t have a car so we could go to the pub down the…’

‘Nah, I know a better place,‘ Sirius interrupted, ‘I’ve got my bike, I‘ll take you home after. Come on.’

He shoved a previously unnoticed bike helmet at a startled Remus whose hands closed around it automatically, even as his mind froze.

Bike?

As he looked at the black leather and chrome monster at the kerb, nerves made his stomach churn. He hadn’t been in anything but a bus - a lumbering, slow as hell bus at that - since the accident and suddenly, he wasn’t sure that even the lure of an evening with Sirius was enough to make him straddle that seat.

‘What’s up?’ asked Sirius then he waved towards the seat. ‘Go ahead and get on.’

Remus could have ripped his own tongue out as he heard himself choke out, ‘I…I can’t.’

Sirius was pulling his spare helmet on but stopped at Remus‘ words, yanking it off again. ‘Haven’t you ever ridden on a bike before?’ he asked curiously. ‘You don’t have to do anything except hang on to me.’

Remus shook his head. ‘I haven’t but…I…’ His words dried up and opened and closed his mouth ineffectively.

Sirius watched the other man absently rubbing his thumb over the long scar on his face and thought that he might just understand.

‘Did you get that in an accident?’ he asked.

Remus frowned in confusion, but when Sirius indicated the scar, he seemed to realise what he was doing. He dropped his hand, but nodded slowly.

‘I’m a safe driver, Remus,’ Sirius said quietly. ‘I promise.’

Remus looked grim. ‘So was I,’ he replied softly. ‘The choice was taken out of my hands.’

Sirius stared at him for a moment longer then got off the bike. ‘So, where’s this pub you were talking about?’ he asked and Remus’ eyes flicked up to the brunette’s face, relieved to see him smiling.

‘Just down the block a bit,‘ he answered. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind…?’

Sirius waved his hand dismissively. ‘Nah, beer’s beer, isn’t it? I just wanted to be somewhere they wouldn’t look twice if I felt like snogging you.’

He winked at Remus and the brown-haired man turned red again, wondering if his face would actually just stay that colour soon.

Sirius chuckled, apparently able to sense Remus’ frustration at his body’s betrayal. ‘You embarrass easily, don’t you?’ he asked and Remus winced in humiliation.

Sirius’ smile faded a little, but lingered about his lips as he raised his hand and brushed the back of his knuckles across Remus’ stained cheek.

‘It’s adorable, Remus,’ he murmured in a low, slightly roughened voice as the feel of Remus’ warm, smooth skin sent an electric shock through his core. ‘I like making you blush.’

A tremor rippled over Remus’ skin at the touch of the other man’s hand and suddenly, the idea of being pressed up against him with a bike rumbling between his thighs didn’t seem so bad after all.

‘We should go to your pub,’ he said, a little breathlessly and Sirius dropped his hand, smiling broadly.

‘The snogging bit won you over didn’t it?’ he teased and Remus laughed.

‘No,’ he said unconvincingly. ‘The beer’s shite at my pub. Watered down.’

‘So it’s only the quality of the booze you’re interested in?’ Sirius asked and Remus smiled.

‘Absolutely,’ he said with a nod.

Sirius grinned then picked up the second helmet, hesitating for a brief second before putting it on.

‘I’ll take it easy, okay?’ he said seriously and Remus felt a shot of gratitude.

He nodded, still uneasy, but as Sirius pulled his helmet on then swung his leg over the leather seat, his worn jeans tightened over his rear and all reservations again flew out of Remus’ head. He jammed on the helmet, admonishing himself for his lack of spine.

Christ. One nice arse and I’m practically bending over for him. I am a weak, weak man.

Once Sirius had settled himself, he turned to Remus and patted the seat behind him. Remus took a deep breath and climbed onto the bike. Sirius twisted to look over his shoulder and Remus could see him smiling behind his tinted visor.

‘Hang on,’ he said, voice flat and muffled. ‘Tight.’

Remus nodded and put his hands on either side of Sirius’ waist, resting them there lightly. Sirius started the engine then grasped Remus’ wrists. He pulled Remus’ arms, wrapping them around his torso. He turned again and although his helmet and the noise of the engine muffled his voice, the message was clear.

‘Closer.’

Remus moved, sliding forward until he was pressed against the brunette’s back. He could feel the mans’ back muscles undulating as he revved the engine then knocked the kickstand up.

‘Hang on!’

With a roar, the bike lurched away from the curb, the jerk making Remus tighten his arms around Sirius reflexively.

There were a few minutes of absolute terror for Remus as Sirius weaved his way through the London streets, busy even at nearly ten o’clock on a Wednesday. The sensation of the thrumming between his thighs, the warmth of Sirius’ body flush against his and the smell of leather and a spicy cologne more than made up for the accelerated heart beat…or were they the reasons for the rapid thumping? He was not as relieved as he thought he might be when Sirius pulled the motorbike into a parking space outside a tavern, although his legs were a little rubbery when he dismounted. Remus steadied himself on the solid ground and pulled off the helmet. Sirius did the same, grinning at Remus as the brown-haired man tried to neaten his hair.

‘Not too bad?’ he asked and Remus grimaced.

‘Terrifying,’ he retorted dryly, then smiled so Sirius knew he wasn’t serious.

Sirius snorted in amusement then tossed his head, shaking his hair out. Remus was annoyed to see that every single strand of hair fell perfectly back into place.

‘Is there anything about you that's not bloody perfect?’ he grumbled and Sirius raised a querying eyebrow

‘Pardon?’ he said and Remus‘ eyes widened.

Did I say that aloud?

‘Nothing,’ he said hurriedly. ‘I’m thirsty. Let’s go in.’

Sirius slid off the bike much more gracefully than Remus had and touched the other man’s elbow, leading him towards the front door. Remus wondered if his suddenly tight chest was the result of the smoky room they'd entered or if it had more to do with Sirius’ fingers curled around his arm. Before he could consider it further, Sirius’ hand was gone and he was mumbling something about drinks, his face strangely flushed.

Remus searched for a table while Sirius made his way through to the bar. He looked around, seeing exactly why Sirius would feel more at home here. There were many people in the smoky room: all men, all being openly affectionate with each other. London was more progressive than many cities, but there were still those who took offence to seeing something as harmless as two men holding hands in public. He watched the couples, running his hand absently over the vinyl bench seat. So immersed in his people watching, he started when a glass was plonked down in front of him.

‘Finest ale in Britain, Remus,’ Sirius said brightly as he slid into the booth opposite him. ‘Drink up.’

Remus smiled his thanks and curved his hands around the glass, savouring the cool smoothness before he raised the drink to his lips and gulped down a mouthful of the bitter, golden liquid.

‘So,’ Sirius said, putting his glass down and wiping a spot of white froth from his lip. Tell me about you.’

Remus looked up at the other man, who was staring expectantly at him, and shrugged. ‘Not much to tell,‘ he said casually. ‘I’m twenty five and I work in a coffee shop by day. By night, I’m a struggling artist who’d hoped he wouldn’t be struggling quite so long.'

He smiled and lifted his glass back to his mouth. ‘That’s pretty much all that’s interesting about me, actually.’

Sirius smiled. ‘I obviously find you far more fascinating than you find yourself,’ he told Remus, shifting his arms to the table and leaning on them. ’There are many things I’d like to know about you. Starting with…‘ He stroked his own cheek, tracing an invisible replication of Remus’ scar on the unblemished skin. ‘I know it was an accident of some kind, but how exactly did you get the scar?’

Remus’ face blanched and his fingers tightened around the glass. Sirius noticed his sudden tension and leaned closer, touching his hand lightly to the back of Remus’ wrist.

‘Sorry. You don’t have to tell me…’ he began, but Remus shook his head.

‘No, it’s fine,’ he said, surprised that it really was; that he didn’t feel confronted or panicked as he had when the hospital counsellors tried to get him to talk about the accident.

It was as though a plug had been pulled as, over the next hour, everything came rushing out - his art before the accident, the offer of the space in the exhibit, the accident, his lack of inspiration afterwards and…most humiliatingly…he even told Sirius that sketching him had triggered a reaction and he seemed to be regaining his artistic spark.

The brunette listened with his head cocked to one side, looking thoughtful and interested. He didn’t snigger at all at the thought that his naked form had bought Remus’ talent crashing back. Once the flood of words ceased, Sirius leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of his drink as he eyed Remus speculatively.

‘So you can sketch better now than you have been?’ he asked. ‘But not consistently? Only bits and pieces?’

Remus nodded in confirmation. ‘I think it’s partly due to the poses Serendipity places you in,’ he said. ‘She’s a lovely girl, but she has no clue about how to make something aesthetically pleasing.’

‘Or comfortable,‘ Sirius muttered. ‘And I swear, if she accidentally brushes her hand over my arse one more time…’

Remus laughed and drained the glass before he stood up. ‘My round is long overdue, I think,’ he said, reaching for Sirius’ glass. ‘Another of the same?’

He was surprised when Sirius refused, standing as well and grabbing his jacket off the back of his seat. ‘No,’ he told Remus. ‘I’ve got a better idea. Take me back to yours.‘

Remus appeared taken aback and Sirius grinned.

‘You filthy bugger,’ he teased, watching Remus turn pink. ‘I’ll have none of that on a first date... probably.’ He chuckled as Remus’ eyes widened. ‘Relax, Remus. I want to see your work.’

Remus blinked. ‘Oh, I don’t know…’ he said reluctantly, but he hadn’t counted on Sirius’ persuasiveness.

‘It’s going to be on display anyway, isn’t it?’ Sirius wheedled. ‘For public consumption? So…you’re just giving me a preview.’

Remus still looked hesitant, but Sirius didn’t give him time to object again, passing him the bike helmet.

‘I’ll get us a bottle to take away, if you like, then we’ll go.’ He smiled winningly and Remus felt something inside him melting under the warmth of it.

‘Alright, then,’ he said, caving completely and Siruis’ smile widened before he slung an arm around Remus’ thin shoulders.

‘Excellent,’ he enthused. ‘Come on then, young Remus. Show me your etchings.’

TBC...