Muse

One good thing about getting off before one appears naked in front of a roomful of people was that one could relax and stop worrying about unwanted and highly inappropriate erections at inopportune moments.

Or at least that’s what Sirius thought - which is why with only fifteen minutes to go until the end of class, he was mortified to find himself in desperate need of a change of position before all those blue-hair grandmas in the front row got a show they hadn‘t paid for. Sirius tried to focus on thoughts of the elderly women who made up almost fifty percent of the class then almost growled in frustration when the errant thought that the veins in old Martha’s wrists were the same colour as Remus’ eyes drifted through his mind. His cock twitched threateningly as he imagined those eyes looking up at him as their owner sucked on said appendage.

Sirius shifted uncomfortably, frantically thinking, ‘Martha in the nude, Martha in the nude,’ as he tried to stop his condition becoming too obvious.

This was all Remus’ fault. Why did the man have to look so damn fuckable? With those big, blue eyes that traced every inch of Sirius' body with an intensity that made his skin break out in goose bumps, that soft golden-brown hair that hung over his eyes as he concentrated on the pad in front of him, those long, graceful fingers that rubbed at the sketch of Sirius, making the brunette wonder if Remus was touching the depiction of his arse, or maybe his cock.

The memory of those fingers holding him, stroking him, led to Sirius recalling his wanking fantasy of last night which involved Remus’ mouth doing oh-so-nice things to aforementioned phallus…and suddenly, the old woman on the other side of the room was giggling and poking the even older woman next to her, who raised an eyebrow then winked at a horrified Sirius.

The giggles combined with Sirius’ fidgeting caught Remus’ attention and the corner of his mouth lifted as he realised what had distracted the women from their sketching. Seeing Remus’ eyes flick down to his lap was the last straw and Sirius leapt up and grabbed his robe, muttering a garbled excuse about needing the toilet to a startled Serendipity as he bolted from the room with his cock at an undisguisable half-mast.

‘Should I go check on him, Serendipity?’ Glenda, who was easily eighty, asked cheekily, trying to keep a straight face. ‘He seemed a little…uptight.’

Remus bent his head to hide his grin as the two women cackled in delight, much to the bafflement of their husbands.

‘Or perhaps young Remus should make sure he’s alright,’ Martha suggested, staring at Remus with a knowing expression. ‘They seem very friendly…’

This comment garnered another fit of giggles from Glenda and made Remus go as red as a cherry. ‘Er, I’m sure he’ll be fine to use the toilet himself…he’s a big boy…,’ Remus began then groaned when Glenda cooed, ’Oh is he now?’ and the other three women in the class finally caught on and joined in the laughter.

Serendipity, not understanding what was happening, clapped her hands in an attempt to regain control. 'Right, we might finish there for tonight,' she said. 'This was Sirius' last night with us. Next week, we’ll be starting with our female model…’

That was all Remus heard as panic flooded him. This was Sirius’ last class? The brunette hadn’t told him, but Remus admonished himself for not realising that Sirius would only be modelling for a limited time.

Was that the reason for the ‘cupboard wank’? Getting it while the getting’s good?

Remus packed up in silence, his mind whirling as he realised the greater implications for himself. If Sirius was his muse, if he was Remus’ inspiration, what would happen once he left Remus’ life? Would he go back to being unable to sketch or paint, or had he truly gotten his spark back on his own and Sirius coming along was just coincidence?

Remus sighed, not really believing this was all a matter of good timing - that he’d met the most amazing man who made him feel things no one else had ever made him feel, just as he was getting some kind of talent back. The question was: if Sirius was no longer around, would the talent remain?

‘Why do you look so miserable? I’m the one who just gave those old chooks the biggest thrill of the decade?’

The shiver that ran down his spine was visceral and unstoppable. That voice, that bloody incredible, smooth-as-melted-chocolate voice, was going to be his undoing every single time.

‘They were going to come and check up on you. I suggested that you’d quite enjoy that, but…’ Remus shrugged and looked up to see Sirius grin broadly.

‘I wouldn’t have minded you checking up on me, Monsieur Lupin,’ he said, bumping the other man playfully with his hip. ‘Might have saved me from sticking my bits under the cold tap and probably doing some permanent injury to them.’

Remus couldn’t help his soft laugh then he drew in a sharp breath when Sirius snuck a hand under the hem of his shirt then stroked a finger along the skin of his lower back, just above the edge of his denim waistband.

‘That was your fault, you know?’ he whispered into Remus’ ear, breath lifting Remus’ hair gently. ‘I couldn’t stop thinking about your fingers, and your eyes…’

Remus felt the other man’s tongue skim lightly along the shell of his ear and couldn’t disguise his reaction, a tremor shaking him hard. He dropped his pencils and Sirius chuckled, shifting as Remus crouched to pick them up with shaking hands.

‘You ready for a drink?’ Sirius asked as Remus straightened up.

The other man nodded, unable to trust his voice - fearing anything he said would come out garbled and squeaky.

‘I…er…asked a friend to join us if that’s okay,’ Sirius said, suddenly sounding a bit unsure. ‘He got sick of hearing about you and wanted to meet you…shit. Did I really just say that?’

Remus smiled as Sirius turned bright red, unable to believe he’d just admitted he had been discussing the artist with his friends.

‘I don’t mind,’ the brown-haired man said, letting Sirius off the hook. ‘I actually asked a friend along as well.’

Sirius raised an eyebrow. ‘Protection or approval?’

Remus bit his lip, a flush colouring his cheeks. ‘Er, a little of both, perhaps?’ he admitted. ‘Pete likes to check out any bloke I…like. You?’

‘Approval,’ Sirius said without hesitation. ‘James is my best mate and is always right about the blokes I date.’

‘Are…are we dating?’

Sirius turned a deep shade of red then shrugged. ‘I’m assuming too much…’

‘No, I just…wondered.’

Sirius smiled a little shyly. ‘I don’t know if Serendipity told you that this was my last class…’

‘She did,' Remus said. 'I wasn’t sure if…’

‘I’d like to keep seeing you,' Sirius interrupted. 'I mean, if you want to?’

Remus grinned, unable to be cool about this, and nodded. ‘I want to.’

Sirius smiled as well and helped Remus pack the rest of his supplies, muttering something about getting out of the hall before Serendipity found the soiled robe. As they were leaving, Remus frowned and turned to the brunette.

‘This friend of yours - if he doesn’t like me, does that mean you won‘t want to see me again?’

‘Course not,’ Sirius said. ‘He has been right about every bloke of mine he’s met so far, but they've all just been flings. You...’ He cleared his throat. 'You aren't.'

Remus' face lit up and Sirius beamed at him until he had a sudden thought and frowned. ‘What about you? What if your friend hates me?’

Remus smiled. ‘Pete hates every friend of mine he meets at first. If he still dislikes someone after a couple of weeks, then I worry,’ he told Sirius who nodded then bit his lip nervously.

Remus smiled soothingly at him. ‘He’ll like you,’ Remus assured him, slipping a warm hand into Sirius'. ‘How could he not?'

~*~

‘I hate him.’

‘You do bloody not!’

‘Alright, I don’t hate him, but he’s so fucking pretentious.’

Remus frowned. 'Pretentious?' he repeated in disbelief. 'He’s just confident and…well, look at him, Pete. He’s bloody beautiful, for Christ‘s sake. And do you even know what pretentious means?’

‘It means arrogant arsehole in my world.’

Remus glared at his friend then stood up. ‘Tell him I’ve gone to the loo. Fucking pretentious…where did you even learn that word, Pete?’

‘Some nasty book you lent me. Told you no good comes from reading.’

‘Tosser!’

Remus made his way through the Friday night crowd at the pub, disappearing into the toilet, Sirius’ eyes watching him all the way from the busy bar where he was waiting to order their drinks. The brunette twisted around to look back at the table they’d procured and saw Peter’s stony face. He turned back to James who was trying to get the barmaid’s attention.

‘I don’t think Remus’ friend likes me.’

‘Neither do I,' agreed James, waving his hand at the barmaid. 'He wasn’t exactly subtle, was he?’

‘You like Remus though, don’t you?’

‘Er…’

The barmaid made her way over to them then and James placed his order, only to have Sirius pounce once the woman had turned to collect glasses.

‘James?’

‘Look, I hardly know him, Sirius,' James said. 'He seems alright…a bit on the arty farty side for me, but decent enough I guess. I don’t not like him…’

‘He’s incredible, James! How can you not see that?’

‘Because I’m not ruled by my cock?’

‘Neither am I. I haven’t shagged him...’

‘No, just jerked him off in a cupboard.’

Sirius scowled at his friend, wishing he'd never confided in him, then handed the returned barmaid some cash, ignoring her fluttering eyelashes as she handed over their drinks. He was annoyed at James, annoyed at Remus‘ stupid friend, Peter, and he just wanted to go and drown himself in Remus‘ kiss again.

He shoved his two glasses at James, who automatically grabbed at them. ‘Here. You can take these to the table. I need to take a piss.’

He left James juggling the four beers and pushed a path to the bathroom, bursting through the doors and startling Remus, who was washing his hands. The blue-eyed man smiled at him in the mirror and chuckled.

‘You sure know how to make an entrance.’

Sirius grinned and moved swiftly across the room, eyeing off Remus’ arse as he did.

‘Your friend, Peter, hates me.’

Remus raised an eyebrow and turned around, leaning against the washbasin in a casual, rakish way that surprised, but delighted Sirius.

‘Yes, he does,' he said, not bothering to deny it. 'Your friend, James, isn’t particularly taken with me either.’

Sirius nodded, a little distracted by a lock of hair that fell into Remus’ eyes as he spoke. The artist flicked it back with a toss of his head, the corner of his mouth turning up in a half-smirk as he spoke.

‘So? Do we care what they think?’

Sirius’ breath caught in his chest as his eyes slid over the long, lean body stretched out in front of him and he forgot all about the two men waiting outside for them.

‘Ah, fuck ‘em,' he declared recklessly. 'What do two breeders know?’

He had time to see Remus’ face break out into a smile before the other man's lips crashed down onto his

~*~


When they emerged from the bathroom ten minutes later and sat down at the table, they heard twin snorts of combined frustration and amusement from their friends as they took in their ruffled hair, their swollen lips and flushed faces.

‘Don’t need to be able to read minds to figure out what you two have been up to,' James scolded. 'For Christ’s sake, can’t you control yourselves even at a straight pub? You could get your heads bashed in.’

‘Chill out, James,’ Sirius muttered, sliding into the booth beside his friend, Remus sitting down beside Peter.

James rolled his eyes at Peter, who shook his head resignedly and sipped his beer. ‘Peter was saying he’s got a season pass to Man United’s games,’ James said to Sirius. ‘We’re going to go together tomorrow.’

The other man raised a bored eyebrow and said sardonically, ‘Really? How fascinating.’

James pulled a face and leaned across the table, addressing Peter in a conspiratorial mock-whisper. ‘Sirius hates football - I have to practically tear his arm off dragging him to watch the reserves team I‘m in. He’s a lousy friend really.’

Peter laughed. ‘So’s Remus. He’s too busy with his painting to get interested in footy. I know he’s a poof, but is there a rule they can’t like minge or sport?’

‘Oi!’ Remus jabbed his elbow hard into Peter’s ribs, making the other man wince. ‘I don’t mind footy.’

‘Only because of the sweaty blokes in tight shorts.’

Sirius chuckled, nudging Remus’ knee under the table. ‘That’s the only reason I put up with James forcing me to go to his matches.’

Remus laughed and James and Peter exchanged a tolerant glance, only just managing to refrain from rolling their eyes again.

The next hour passed far more pleasantly than Remus or Sirius had expected after the rough start. James and Peter had hit it off and were trying to outdo each other with increasingly outrageous stories about their best friend’s antics in previous relationships. Peter was currently splayed across the booth, laughing his arse off at James’ retelling of Sirius’ romantic failures.

‘And then he looked down and realised it was all down the leg of his jeans and he’d walked home like that…’

James could barely get the climax of the story out between guffaws, an annoyed and blushing Sirius hissing at his friend.

‘James, shut the fuck up.’

Remus let loose a snigger then looked apologetic when Sirius rounded on him. He held up his hands defensively.

‘Hey, I’m sorry, but it’s funny…and you laughed at my…problem…with that Italian bloke.’

‘Well, that was funny.’ Sirius pouted - 'very prettily,' Remus thought - and the artist reached across the table and patted the other man's hand, wanting to bring this topic of conversation to an end.

‘Sorry,’ Remus said. 'I promise not to laugh at any more of your...er...sexual mishaps.

Sirius muttered something that sounded like, 'Better not,' then laced their fingers together. Remus smiled, his skin tingling at the contact and he pressed their palms together. He heard a gagging noise and turned to glare at Peter, who shook his head.

‘Sorry, but I’m not pissed enough to watch you two make puppy eyes at each other.’ He downed his remaining half-glass of ale and slammed it down onto the table before standing up and turning to James. ‘I’ll give you a call about the time for that match tomorrow, James.’

James nodded, finishing his own beer while Peter turned to Sirius. ‘Seems you may not be as big of a prick as I first thought.’ He held out his hand. ‘It was nice to meet you.’

Surprised, Sirius stood and shook hands with Peter who added in a pleasant tone, ‘But if you fuck Remus around, I’ll wring your poncy neck.’

Sirius’ eyes widened, but Peter just gave him a mild smile and hugged a startled Remus quickly.

‘See ya, mate.’

‘Um, yeah…’

Peter waved and sidled past Remus, disappearing into the ever-growing crowd as James also prepared to depart.

‘I’m off as well. Good to meet you, Remus.’ James covered his mouth as he burped then offered a hand to Remus, who took it gingerly.

James clapped Sirius on the shoulder firmly and grinned. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t,’ he laughed, before he was also swallowed up by the mass of bodies in the pub.

Remus and Sirius stared at each other, bemused, then Sirius let out a bark of laughter. ‘Well, that was…’

‘Agonising?’

‘I was going to say interesting, but your description is more accurate.’

Remus smiled and finished his drink. Sirius watched him with contemplative eyes then, when Remus put his glass down, he leaned forward, knees knocking against Remus’ under the table, fingertips touching the other man’s. ‘You wanna go? I can give you a lift home…and maybe come up and let you sketch me again.’

Remus felt heat spread through his body, beginning where the tips of their fingers touched and moving rapidly through his veins. He saw the hungry expression on Sirius’ face and a pleasant, anticipatory shiver shook his thin frame.

‘Sure,’ he said, the words falling from his lips before he even realised they were forming. ‘I’d like that.’


TBC...