Sirius Black [Maraduders Era] (
effingsirius) wrote in
marauderstower2016-10-01 08:48 pm
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spoopy shenanigans [ota]

It's Halloween. Clearly this means it's time for shenanigans.
Or at least a party. Come costumed (or at the very least clothed.) Here there be alcohol and spoopiness.
Have fun!
[ooc: sob idk what this is go forth and have fun ppl i guess toplevel and attack at will?]
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He starts off smoking up a storm, just to try to clear his head. If that doesn't work, he'll move onto the Firewhisky.
He'll find a way to drink enough to keep smiling the rest of the night. He has to.
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It's a moment before he spots Sirius, his rigid suit-clad back blending into the darkness, feet surrounded by a growing pile of cigarette butts. Of course it's now that he starts feeling hesitant, but this isn't something they can just ignore. Not now that things are out in the open.
"...Sirius?"
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Shit. Fuck. He wasn't ready for this conversation yet. He tucks the Firewhisky bottle away into his jacket as he turns, managing a bright smile.
He can't put out the cigarette yet. He needs to keep breathing in the smoke so his smile stays on.
"Reg told you he told me?"
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"Mind if I have some of that?" He gives the front of Sirius' jacket a pointed look before offering a weak, half-smile. Just the barest quick at the corner of his lips, because he knows this is going to be a bloody awkward conversation. He wonders briefly if Sirius can hear the way his heart is hammering in his chest. Wonders if he knows how terrible it feels to have kept something so important from him.
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Maybe Remus doesn't remember the carefully crafted Black smile. It's been a few years since it touched his lips, after all. It pops up again, now, calm and bright and entirely
unreal."--Right. Sure. Here." He offers the approaching half-empty bottle to his friend, lifting it in a hollow copy a toast, first, "To-- you 'nd my brother."
He resists taking a huge swig by properly handing the bottle to Remus, instead lifting the cigarette to his lips.
"You're good for him, nn?"
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When he opens his eyes, Sirius is holding out the bottle to him. He accepts the bottle and takes a hearty swig without preamble, savoring the way it burns on the way down.
"Thank you. I'd like to think so." He sighs, staring off into the darkness as opposed to looking at Sirius. He doesn't need to look to know that he's betrayed his friend terribly. Of course he knew this day would come – that they couldn't keep Sirius in the dark forever and the odds were high that it would be difficult when he did find out – but that doesn't make any of it any easier. He lifts the bottle to his lips again, hoping that maybe they'll be able to communicate a little better if they're both a it sloshed.
"I'm sorry we didn't tell you. And I'm sorry you found out... the way you did."
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And that, at least, is honest. That at least, doesn't hurt to say.
It's the rest of it that hurts. It's the rest of it that's got him waving a hand dismissively, the cigarette making careless smoke loops in the air.
"Don't worry about. Reg told me why y'didn't say. 'm just glad it wasn't because you thought I'd be-- awful about it, or something."
That's considerably less true, but maybe if he says it enough times he'll believe it, himself.
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His brows draw together. In a moment of confusion, he realizes two things: the first is what Sirius is referring to, and the second is that he really shouldn't have had that firewhiskey, because he cannot for the life of him seem to control the expression on his face.
Too late, he turns his look of utter guilt away from Sirius, lifting the bottle to his lips again in what's both a terrible idea and an attempt to cover up the look that he's certain Sirius has already seen.
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"--what is it, Remus?"
Did he say something? He doesn't know what about his past words would have, unless--
"--did you think I was going to be awful about it?"
He can't help that that hurts to ask.
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There was nothing for it, now. He couldn't lie to Sirius.
"Regulus... had his reasons for not wanting to tell you," he begins, voice low as though he were in a confessional. "They were easy to go along with. But I–" He draws in a sharp breath, hand tightening around the neck of the bottle before he forces himself to continue. When he speaks, it's barely a whisper.
"I thought you'd never speak to me again, Sirius." He blinks, then closes his eyes entirely against the sudden burn behind them. "I thought I'd lose you forever."
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He almost swallows the cigarette, because the smoke isn't getting into his lungs fast enough. He manages, somehow, to keep his voice from trembling somehow when he speaks.
"Why?" Good. Somehow he manages to keep that steady and not at all hurting. Any roughness on the edges is obviously from the cigarette smoke, "'f I didn't care about-- your furry little problem, why would I-- care about this? 've never said anything-- before, when you've mentioned it."
Or maybe.
"Or 's it-- 'cause it's Reg? Merlin, Moony, why would I care about that?" He can name a few reasons, but he isn't going to. This is about making Remus feel like this is okay. Like Sirius is okay, "You're-- wonderful. And he needs more wonderful in his life. This is-- this is only a good thing."
There. That's a good lie. That one he'd managed to make sound almost completely honest.
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"I thought you hated him, Sirius. Your whole family, I thought–" He goes to lift the bottle to his lips but stops halfway, for once thinking the better of it and instead holding it out to Sirius to take. He probably needs it about now anyway.
"You acted like he didn't exist. You wouldn't even speak his name. And then there I was, falling–" He cuts himself off again and drags in a ragged breath, shaking his head. "I thought you'd hate me for consorting with the very people you'd been trying to escape."
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Regulus loves Remus. Remus is in love with Regulus, or at least most of the way there. That's that. Game over-- not that it'd ever really started for him.
And it's fine. It's really, really Fine. Sirius is going to be Okay.
Now to just convince Remus of that. His voice is soft as he replies.
"Reg is my brother," he says quietly, "I was-- ashamed of leaving him and that's why I couldn't-- bear to talk about him. I still am. But I couldn't-- I couldn't hate him. He was never like our-- our parents."
Never would be, partially thanks to this other young man before him.
"And I-- I could never hate you, Moony. You're-- you're family." His voice trembles at that, but he tries to cover it with another drag of his cigarette, "'s nothing you could-- ever do, to push me away."
Even this, apparently. Even break his heart, though the other man doesn't know he's doing it.
"You were.... You were l-like my brother, even before this. You're-- absolutely family, now, and not from my-- shitty one, either. I couldn't stop-- caring about you anymore than I could James or Reg or Pete, no matter what you did.
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And now, somehow, it felt like he was losing him. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right that his feelings for Sirius would rear their ugly head now, not after everything. What's happened with Regulus wasn't planned, but it's something good that he would never part with. He's come to love Regulus – dearly – even if he hasn't yet been able to say it in so many words, but apparently that hasn't quashed what he feels for Sirius. Not entirely.
But they are practically family. They always have been, and that's always been enough. He shouldn't feel like he's losing something when Sirius is still here beside him, telling him that it's going to be okay.
He takes another swig from the bottle he hadn't realized was back in his hand.
And then he's moving before he knows it. Reaching out and grasping Sirius' sleeve like he's done so many, many times before.
"Sirius..."
He looks at Sirius, and there's something pleading in his eyes, because he can tell they're on the cusp of something. Whether that something is moving forward and being happy or having everything fall apart around them, he can't say. He also can't say the words that he really wants to, and so he simply says what he can:
"You know that... that you mean everything to me, right? You always have. Since the first day we met."
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He can't help that Remus' words make something crack in him. He tries his best to keep himself smiling.
"Well-- yeah," he manages feebly, "We're mates. We-- care about one another. We've got each other's backs. I-- I love you, 'nd-- you love me."
And he can manage to say it just like he does to James or Peter or Regulus. He can.
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"I love you too," he says, locking his eyes with Sirius and trying to convey all the things he can't say. Not anymore. There's an apology there. A sadness, and a deep sincerity. "I love you, Sirius."
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But then that part of him quiets entirely beneath the reminder that Remus loves Regulus. That Sirius has never been deserving of Remus. That the hope he's reading into Remus' look and words is solely wishful thinking.
"I know." And he is, at least, certain that Remus loves him like a brother. He can breathe and smile for that, shaky but real, back at at Remus, "I do, Moony. And I promise I'm-- happy for you."
That's true, too, at least.
"You should-- go back in. Check on Reg. He's probably freaking out again."
I'd like to take this moment to remind you that Remus is still in a freaking sheep onesie
He watches Sirius closely for a moment, scrutinizing his expression for any hint of... he doesn't know what. Finally, he nods. With one last squeeze to the fabric between his fingers – not even something Sirius would be able to feel – he releases his grasp on Sirius' sleeve.
It feels like letting go of something forever.
"You'll be all right?"
i cannot believe
It takes him a moment to remember he's supposed to be unquestionably happy. The smile trembles, but he keeps it on his face anyways.
"Of course I will be."
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He hates this, really. Hates the feeling of a wall rising between them and being left with no way to rectify the problem. Of course Sirius is going to be distant after Remus had lied to him for so long. He'd brought this upon himself, dammit. He can't complain about having to lie in the grave he'd dug all on his own. Still, he hesitates, finding it hard to turn away once and for all.
"...okay..." As though just remembering it, he holds out the bottle of firewhiskey, half wondering if he oughtn't have returned to the party with it if just to make sure Sirius doesn't finish the bloody thing on his own.
"If you need to talk, you'll find me, yeah? Promise?"
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His nod is mostly instinct, but he somehow manages a smile.
"If I need to talk."
It isn't going to be talking that he needs. Moony doesn't need to know that. He just needs to think that maybe Sirius will come and talk to him about things so that Sirius has enough time to drown himself in the firewhisky and act Normal the rest of the night.
He can get into a fight or a crash or something to kill the pain tomorrow. Reguls and Remus' eyes will be far too sharp tonight.
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"Right then."
And it's awkward, turning his back on someone who'd been the center of his world for so long, who'd held more of his esteem and affection than any other living person, especially with the lingering feeling that something's been left unsaid. He'd said his piece, though. And now there's nothing more to say. And so he forces himself to turn – to put one foot haltingly in front of the other – and return to the party, not looking back.
He's going to need a damn stiff drink after this one.
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It takes everything in him not to say 'goodbye.' It will feel too final-- like he's giving himself an out that he's not sure he wants to take.
So instead he downs enough of the bottle to make himself feel fuzzy around the edges. He smokes until he can breathe again.
Returns to the party with a smile that doesn't feel at all real, but is still looks surprisingly good, all things considered.