Muse

Thanks for all the lovely comments on last chapter!

Chapter Four

Remus’ knees were shaking as he led Sirius up to his flat; shaking from both the motorbike ride through the London streets, and from being pressed up against Sirius’ back for all that time. He prayed that he hadn’t left any dirty underwear lying around the floor - unlikely, but still - as he opened the door and waved Sirius inside. The brunette stopped just inside the entry hall, shucking his leather coat and looking around interestedly.

‘So this is an artist’s digs?’ he murmured, eyes taking in the neat, clean, but shabby apartment.

Remus took Sirius’ coat and hung it with his on a hook behind the front door as he answered. ‘No, this is a struggling artist’s digs,’ he corrected. ‘Real artists live amongst beauty and inspiration. I have grey walls, peeling linoleum and a fat, hairy trucker that likes to walk around in his underwear with his curtains open.’

Sirius glanced sharply at him and Remus gestured out the window. Sirius grimaced when he saw Remus’ neighbour across the alley.

‘Jeez, no wonder you can’t paint,’ he said and Remus chuckled, pulling the curtains and indicated that Sirius should follow him.

‘This is pretty much it,’ Remus told him, waving a hand in a sweeping gesture to encompass the small open plan area. ‘Kitchen, living room, dining room…,’ he said, pointing out each area as he spoke. ‘And that’s the tour.’

‘Not quite,’ Sirius said, grinning at him and Remus cursed himself as he flushed again.

Sirius followed close behind as he moved down the short hall, pointing out the bathroom then waving a hand towards his bedroom - relieved he didn’t see any underwear laying about.

‘My room.’

He moved quickly away but Sirius went inside the small room. Remus walked back to and stood in the doorwary, watching as Sirius sat on the end of his double bed and bounced. They heard the creak of the old, rusted base and Sirius smiled.

‘Springy,’ he noted then chuckled at the slightly frightened expression on Remus’ face before he stood up. ‘You are so easy, Remus. Come on, show me the fruits of your labour.’

Remus moved down the hall to the only closed door and opened it to reveal his tiny spare room and Sirius smiled in approval.

‘This is more like it,’ he murmured, walking past Remus into the room. ‘This is more you.’

Remus had stripped this room down to the bones when he moved in - determined that the place he worked from would be a haven for him in a sea of blandness. He had torn up the cigarette-burned carpet, leaving the bare boards (which were in surprisingly good condition) exposed. Then he had painted the walls stark white and hung his own work around the room plus posters of art or scenes that he loved and that bought splashes of colour to the work area. His easel was set up near the curtain-less window to take advantage of the little natural light his flat received, and it faced a couch he used to pose his models when he worked from home.

One glance at the easel now made Remus groan in humiliation as he realised that his sketches from the night before were still pinned to it.

His sketches of Sirius.

Of course, as Murphy’s Law would have it, the sketches were the first thing Sirius laid eyes on. He sat down on Remus’ paint-splattered stool and touched the paper lightly.

‘This is me,‘ he said, somewhat redundantly. He looked up at Remus, who was the colour of a fire truck. ‘Did you do these in class?’

‘Er, no. I was just fooling around…,’ he said, moving across the room. ‘They aren’t right anyway.’

He made to grab the pad, but Sirius smacked his hand playfully. ‘Let me be the judge of that,’ he admonished with a smile. ‘After all, who knows my face better than me?’

Remus fidgeted uncomfortably as Sirius looked at the drawings closely. He saw a crease appear in Sirius’ brow and knew the other man could see the faults in the sketch, but wasn’t sure what exactly was missing. Remus dragged over another stool and sat down next to Sirius as he gave him the answer.

’There’s no life in them,’ he said and Sirius looked at him as he pointed to the eyes in one sketch.

‘Your eyes are dead here,‘ he explained. ‘I couldn’t catch that light in them…It’s hard to do at any time, but without the subject in front of you….’

He shrugged and Sirius looked at the sketch again, cocking his head and frowning down at the pad for several seconds before he turned back to Remus.

‘Sketch me now.’

Remus started. ‘What?’

‘I’m here now,’ Sirius said then fluttered his eyelashes. ‘Plenty of light in my eyes.’

Remus let out a little snort of laughter and Sirius grinned then nudged him in the side with his elbow.

‘Come on. Please?’ he wheedled. ‘I’ll even keep my clothes on so you don’t have to look at my hideous nakedness.’

‘Yeah, hideous,’ Remus grunted, his sarcasm thick, and Sirius laughed. He stood up and held his arms out to the sides, taking the lack of objection as a go ahead.

‘Where do you want me?’ he asked.

Remus heaved a breath of resignation, but was secretly excited Sirius has suggested this. He grabbed a pencil then gestured to the stool.

‘Just on the stool is fine,’ he said, shifting his own back a little.

Sirius sat back down and grinned. ‘Make sure you get my good side.’

Remus shook his head as he flipped to a fresh page in the pad. ‘Shouldn’t be too hard,’ he muttered. ‘You don’t appear to have a bad side - life really isn’t fair.’

‘Too much perfection in one package?’ Sirius asked cheekily.

Remus heard the teasing in Sirius’ voice, but he’d hit the nail on the head. ‘Exactly,’ he said, looking up from his page in time to see Sirius’ smile change from playful to contemplative then seductive.

‘Sure you don’t want me to get my gear off?’ he asked, his voice low and a little husky.

Remus hesitated, his body reacting to the underlying want in Sirius‘ voice. He really would love for Sirius to be sprawled naked across his couch - bared for Remus’ eyes only - but he reluctantly shook his head, knowing that it was too much, too soon.

Sirius’ flirty smile widened. ‘Took you a little while to decide didn’t it?’ he said softly. ‘Do you always do the right thing, Remus?’

‘Usually,’ Remus told him, then gestured with his pencil. ‘Turn to your right a little.’

Sirius did as he was told, turning his face. ‘Isn’t that boring?’ he continued, undeterred. ‘I mean, you want me to take my clothes off, I want to take my clothes off…propriety is stopping you having some fun.’

‘Sirius, I can’t sketch you while you’re talking…’ Remus said, but Sirius interrupted.

‘Yes you can,’ he argued. ‘So? Do you ever want to do something completely inappropriate just because you want to do it?’

‘Never.’

‘Why not?’

Remus sighed. ‘It…it’s hard to do this while you’re yapping.’

‘Why don’t you come over here and shut me up?’ Sirius suggested, wriggling his eyebrows when Remus looked up from the pad in frustrated amusement.

‘You’re incorrigible,’ he laughed and Sirius nodded.

‘And corruptible,’ he said with a smirk. ‘For the right person.’

Remus tapped the pencil against his chin and smiled. ‘Oh, I have a feeling there is nothing I could do to corrupt you further, Sirius. You’re pure evil.’

‘You have no idea, Remus,’ he murmured and the wicked grin on the brunette’s face sent a pang of lust through Remus’ core.

He cleared his constricted throat then lowered his head back to the sketch pad. His hand shook as he began to work, but soon, he got caught up in the flow of lines and curves and forgot about the wonderfully erotic things this man did to his body, instead focusing on texture and angles and the fall of that too-perfect-to-be-real hair.


Sirius stayed quiet when he saw Remus get caught up in what he was doing. Those blue eyes no longer looked at Sirius like he was a man Remus was attracted to, but with an evaluating, burning intensity as his hand flew over his pad. Remus broke Sirius down piece by piece, body part by body part then put him back together on the page. The artist’s immersion in what he was doing gave Sirius a chance to look to his heart’s content and he liked what he saw. The way Remus seemed so unaware of anything other than the pencil in his hand made the occasional quirk of his lips, or the wrinkle that appeared in his brow even more endearing because they weren’t an affectation.

He is genuinely unaware of how he comes across, of how bloody hot he is when he‘s completely lost in what he‘s doing.

After what could have been minutes or hours, he saw Remus frown and he refocused on Sirius-the-man rather than Sirius-the-subject.

‘What’s wrong?’ Sirius asked.

Remus blinked a couple of times. ‘I can’t…’ His hand rose and he traced a curve in the air between them. ‘I can’t get the shadowing, the texture…quite right…’

He stretched his arm out further, as if to touch Sirius’ face, but pulled back before he could make contact. Sirius instinctively knew what he needed.

‘Touch me.’

Remus’ eyes widened and he seemed taken aback. ‘Excuse me?’

‘You wanted to,’ Sirius said perceptively. ‘If it helps you, touch me.’

Remus still appeared reluctant and Sirius cajoled him, wanting to feel the other man’s touch more badly than he cared to admit - even to himself.

‘Remus, I watched you tonight,’ he said with a little smile. ‘You are very…tactile. You run your damnable sexy fingers over everything so if you need to, just…touch.’

Sirius saw Remus’ uncertainty and made a split-second decision, reaching out his own hand to touch Remus’ cheek; tracing his index finger along the edge of the long scar and feeling Remus’ jaw jump under the light touch.

‘I know you thought I was joking today,’ he murmured, finger sliding over the smooth skin of the raised scar. ‘When I said you were turning me on when you looked at me, but I wasn’t. I had to pull up some very disturbing images of my one and only ex-girlfriend naked to keep things…decent. Watching you touch everything with those hands…well, let’s just say if Serendipity hadn’t called for me to switch position, there may have been quite an embarrassing moment.’

A slow burn spread over Remus’ skin, emanating from the tip of Sirius’ finger. The brunette’s thumb ghosted over a pink tinted lip, then traced the edge of the pigmentation, following the line of Remus’ mouth from corner to corner.

‘See?’ he whispered. ‘It’s not so hard.’

He dropped his hand and took hold of Remus’, feeling a tremor as he lifted it to his face.

‘Touch me, Remus.’

He pushed his cheek against Remus’ palm then skimmed his hand along the back of the hand, over the fragile metacarpal bones, the surprisingly delicate wrist and the hair sprinkled arm, which broke out into goose bumps at the touch.

Remus closed his eyes against the sensation that threatened to overwhelm him then took a deep, strengthening breath before he firmed his touch on Sirius’ face. He heard Sirius’ hitched breath when his slightly roughened thumb stroked over his skin lightly, moving to the bridge of the other man’s nose and following the straight line from tip to between his brows. Remus opened his eyes now and, with hastened respiration, his other hand joined the first, thumb following the path the other had forged. Both thumbs pressed between Sirius’ dark eyebrows for a moment then parted, going in opposite directions to learn the rise of the brunette’s brow, gliding lightly over the skin as Sirius’ eyes closed.

The air around them grew thick, ribbons of lust weaving through the tension. Remus could almost smell the pheromones seeping from their pores and it took everything he had not to leap upon the other man and shag him stupid. Instead he concentrated on a task which should have been mechanical, should have been ordinary and bland, but instead had turned into the most erotic experience of Remus’ life.

Trembling hands slid over aristocratic cheekbones that created all kinds of interesting angles for Remus to explore then fingertips danced along a strong, slightly stubbled jaw. A muscle leapt as Remus’ hands cupped Sirius’ jaw, thumbs moving slowly in concentric circles over the other man’s chin. A sharp inhale broke the silence as Remus drew his hands slowly down Sirius’ throat, his little fingers grazing the sensitive skin under the brunette’s ears. A shiver shook Sirius who opened his desire darkened eyes and stared at Remus as if he could see directly into his soul.

Remus stared back for several long moments, barely breathing as need tightened his chest. Then, almost robotically, his hands slid off Sirius’ face to grasp his pencil and pad and his hand began to move. His eyes remained on the other man for as long as possible then shifted down to the pad, flicking up regularly to refresh his memory of Sirius’ face. His head would then duck back down over his paper, fringe in his eyes, swaying as Remus moved.

Twenty minutes later, Remus looked up and sucked in a long, cleansing breath before he handed Sirius the sketch pad. The other man took it and gazed down at the portrait for so long that Remus began to fidget and finally spoke.

‘Sirius?’

Sirius looked up then smiled an extraordinary smile. ‘It’s incredible.’

‘You think?’ he asked, relieved.

‘Come on, Remus,’ Sirius said, dragging his stool close, and they looked down at the picture together. ‘You’re the artist - no false modesty. It’s good, isn’t it?’

Remus tried to look objectively at the sketch and smiled. ‘Yeah. It’s good.’

Sirius let out a light, happy laugh and unexpectedly slung an arm around the other man’s shoulders. ‘Does this mean you’re getting your groove back?’ he asked and Remus chuckled, leaning into the brunette’s loose embrace.

‘I hope so. I’ve only got a few months to get something done for this opening.’

Sirius nodded and his gaze moved from the pad to Remus’ face. ‘You’ll do it. You’re talented, Remus. You’re…brilliant.’

Remus flushed and shook his head before turning to look at Sirius, their eyes locking.

‘Thanks,‘ he said, his voice rough, hoarse even, though it was raised barely above a whisper.

Remus was the first to break eye contact, his gaze shifting to Sirius’ lips then he forced himself to stop staring and looked down at the floor, clearing his throat.

‘It…it’s getting late,’ he mumbled.

Sirius blinked, becoming aware of his surroundings again, and nodded. He stood up and stretched, not missing how Remus’ eyes shifted to the strip of flesh revealed when he did so. Hiding a sudden smile, the brunette followed Remus to the door, taking his coat and letting his hand sit on the other man’s for longer than necessary before slipping the leather jacket on.

‘Can I see you again?’ he blurted out then felt his cheeks heat up.

Remus worried his bottom lip shyly and shrugged, trying to appear casual. ‘You’ll see me Friday night in class.’

Sirius stared as Remus sucked his abused bottom lip into his mouth and his control snapped.

‘I can’t do this in class,’ he murmured, leaning forward as he spoke and pressing his lips to Remus’.

The kiss was chaste, dry, short; a question that Remus answered with a little moan that he managed to halt in his throat, but that was still audible. It had been so damn long since he‘d been kissed by anyone, let alone someone he was so attracted to. Sirius pulled back far enough to slide his tongue over his own lips to lubricate them, to taste Remus on them, then he leaned back in, the sudden darkness of his eyes warning Remus that this time, he wouldn’t be getting off so easily. His lips were firmer this time, intent clear, and Remus could no more stop his elemental reaction than he could turn back the tides or switch off the sun.

Sirius’ tongue flicked demandingly at his lip but barely had it touched the soft flesh before Remus opened for him, the option of denying him access not even considered by the brown-haired man. Electricity arced between them and the kiss deepened by mutual consent, mouths angling over each other to allow their tongues to explore the tastes and textures that lay within. Sirius’ fingers threaded through soft brown strands of hair, strong hands cupping Remus’ head with surprising gentleness.

There was nothing gentle or soft though, about the way his body pushed insistently at Remus’ until the artist’s back was pressing against the door jamb. Remus’ hands clutched desperately at the supple leather of Sirius’ jacket as a denim clad leg slipped between his thighs. He had time to register Sirius’ hardness dragging over his own bulge before the other man tore himself away, stumbling a little until his back hit the other side of the door frame.

They both stared at each other through hazed eyes, panting hard.

‘Wow.’

Remus flushed and smiled at Sirius’ breathy exclamation.

‘Yeah. Wow.’

The sound of ragged breathing filled the silence then Remus pushed himself off the door frame to stand on wobbly legs.

‘I’ll see you Friday?’ he said unsteadily and Sirius nodded.

‘Yes,’ he said hastily. ‘Can we go for a drink after?’

‘Definitely.’

‘And afterwards,’ Sirius said hopefully. ‘You could sketch me again?’

Remus let out a stuttering laugh. ‘If you want…’

Sirius straightened and pressed a fast kiss to Remus mouth, his lip curling at the corner as he whispered, ‘I want.’

TBC...