Chapter Text
Piano in front of him, Sirius plucks gently at the keys as he watches the screen in front of him, smiling a bit at the couple kissing happily. His fingers move of their own accord, a romantic melody spilling out of him.
In the corner of his vision, his longtime boyfriend of 4 years, Gideon, stands in their front yard talking on the phone. Sirius grins, knowing he looks like a lovesick fool as their gazes meet. He can’t help it. He’s so in love.
Gideon grins and walks into the room, his hand reaching out for Sirius. Taking it, Sirius presses his lips to the other man’s knuckles, watching in delight as Gideon smiles. He tries to hold on, but Gideon pries it away with a laugh.
“Gotta go.” He says.
Sirius pauses his playing, watching as Gideon walks away. God, he’s so lucky.
~
What is love?
Written by Remus Lupin
The Daily Prophet
I have found almost everything ever written about love to be true. Shakespeare said, "Journeys end when lovers meet." What an extraordinary thought. I have not experienced anything remotely close to that but I'm more than willing to believe Shakespeare had. I suppose I think about love more than anyone really should. I am constantly amazed by its sheer power and by all its subtleties and complexities. It was Shakespeare who also said, "Love is blind". Now, that is something I know to be true. And for some, quite inexplicably ... love fades. For others, love is simply lost. But then, of course, love can also be found. Even if just for the night. And then there's another kind of love. The cruelest kind. The one that almost kills its victims. It's called unrequited love. Of that, I am an expert. Most love stories are pretty much about people who fall in love – with each other. But what about the rest of us? What about our stories? Those of us who fall in love alone. We are the victims of the one-sided affair. We are the cursed of the loved ones. We are the unloved ones. The walking wounded, the handicapped without the advantage of a great parking space. And I have willingly loved a man for over three miserable years. The absolute worst years of my life. The worst Christmases, the worst birthdays, New Year's Eves brought in by tears and Xanax. These years that I have been in love have been the darkest days of my life ... all because I've been cursed by being in love with a man who does not and will not love me back. Oh, God, here he comes ... heart pounding ... throat thickening ... absolutely can't swallow ... all the usual symptoms.
“Fucking hell,” Remus curses, his fingers massaging his temple where it’s throbbing painfully. He sits back, his gaze on the article he’s supposed to be writing. A loud laugh startles him, the subject of his mindless ramblings coming into his vision.
Benjy Fenwick.
Remus tries to breathe but needs to pull himself together. They’ve been over for three years now, there is absolutely no need for all of these feelings to purge back up as an unhelpful reminder of how sad and lonely he is. He’s fine. Totally, without a doubt, 100 percent over him. He barely even thinks of Benjy these days.
But then he catches a glimpse of that freckle right below his jaw and Remus can’t breathe again. He stands from his desk abruptly, needing to find a friendly face. Peter. Yes, he needs Peter.
His best friend is standing in the thick of their office Christmas party, a glass of champagne in his hands. Remus stalks over and plucks it out of his hands, the champagne down his throat before either of them can say anything.
“Oh–okay then,” Peter says, his eyes narrowed as he watches Remus desperately swallow the champagne in his attempt to look normal. “What’s going on?”
Remus grunts, not needing to say anything. Peter glances behind him and spots Benjy, his mouth twisting with pity. “Oh no… you’re not still?”
Remus furiously shakes his head. “No no no. That’s over. Very over.”
He flags down a passing intern and flashes a smile. “Could you be a darling and bring Peter and me both a glass of champagne? Please?”
The young girl blushes a little and nods before darting away. Peter has one eyebrow raised as he watches Remus, a small smirk on his face as he mutters, “Right.”
“Fuck off.”
“What’s your deal anyway? I thought you were over him. Weren’t you just saying that you’d like to start dating again when we got drinks on Tuesday?” Peter asks as the intern comes back with their champagne. “And the bloke cheated on you, too! In my book, that’s unforgivable. I don’t know why you stayed friends with the prick.”
Remus grinds his jaw. Yes, he had said that but he hadn’t meant it. He can’t help that he was in love with Benjy, okay? His heart won’t let the other man go no matter how hard he tries.
“We are barely friends. I mean, All we do now is… we… we do emails. Not when he's with his hookup of the week, of course. Also when he's not with them, we talk on the phone. Sometimes for hours… And then there's the occasional long lunch… It's bloody torture. But he says we'd be crazy to give up our friendship, that I'm one of the most important people in his life.”
“I never realized how pathetic you are.” Peter deadpans.
“Really? I am so aware of it.” Remus chugs his second glass in one go. “It’s just that every time I try to let him go he finds some way to worm back into my life.”
“Block his number.”
“It’s not that simple,” Remus says.
“It is, though. So, you were in love with him. So what? That doesn’t mean you’re going to love him for the rest of your life. You just need to get out there and try again.” Peter says, his hand coming up to rest on Remus’s shoulders.
Remus looks at him. Peter is a handsome bloke; with sandy blonde hair, light blue eyes, and freckles that stay on his face year-round.
“How’d you like to date me then?” Remus smirks.
Peter grins. “If I wasn’t already spoken for, I’d be there in under a second.” They both chuckle. “I’m serious, though. Get out there and get started on moving on.”
Remus nods, knowing that Peter is right.
“And you should just cut him off. Stop answering his phone calls, and stop buying him Christmas and birthday gifts. Move on this time.” Peter says before walking away to speak to one of their editors.
Remus sighs. He knows that Peter is right. He’s trying, alright? Moving on is so much harder than he thought.
His editor, Preston walks by. “Remus, did you file your story?”
“I did not.” He glances down at his watch. “Cutting it close. Sorry.”
He waves him off as Remus hurries back over to his desk so he can send over his newest article. He writes the union column, his stories depicting the newlyweds, the couples that have been together for over fifty years, and the ones in between. It’s one of the only joyful columns that they have in the newspaper.
“What's it like to be the only person committed to their work while the rest of us are slumming?” A voice says from the doorway.
Heart jumping, Remus turns around to see Benjy leaning against his door, looking way too good in the ugly fluorescents of his office.
“You mean, what’s it like to be the only person that hasn’t finished their work on time?” Remus says with a self-deprecating smile. “Hang on…”
He sends the file to Moody and turns around to fully face Benjy, his fingers twisting around nervously.
“Your brain is always working so fast. That was probably a brilliant finish.”
“I assure you it was not,” Remus says.
Benjy walks in and leans against Remus’s desk now, their bodies much closer than before. What’s up with this guy and leaning on everything? It’s unfairly attractive.
“Got you something for Christmas,” Benjy says.
“Got you something, too.” Remus grins before opening a drawer in his desk and pulling out a small gift in wrapping paper.
Benjy’s eyebrows lift in surprise. “Oh, darling, I don’t have the gift on me. Think I might’ve left it in the car… but I know that I have one.”
Remus ignores the voice in his head telling him to abort and throw himself off the nearest cliff. Instead, he hands the gift over with shaking hands.
“It’s fine,” Remus says.
“Do you want to know what it is?”
“No, I can wait. But, here, open yours.” Remus urges Benjy to take the gift.
Benjy smiles before unwrapping the gift, his eyes going soft when he sees what it is. “Is this a first edition?”
Remus nods, pleased with himself.
“How the ever-loving fuck did you find this?” Benjy asks in amazement.
“I’ll never give up my secrets.”
Benjy looks at him, his gaze tender. “You…”
Remus waves him off. “Happy Christmas.”
People are quieting down in the newsroom and Remus looks over to see their editor-in-chief leading a toast.
“I hate that we can never talk,” Benjy says as they get up to walk into the room.
“Me too,” Remus says.
Albus is trying to shush the crowd and somewhere in the crowd, Remus loses Benjy. He stays near the back of the crowd, his back against the wall. Peter is up at the front with his editor, and Remus can’t be bothered to maneuver through the crowd to get to him. So he stays in the shadows.
“First of all, to each and every one of you, a very Merry Christmas. We are not officially closed, as you well know but with any luck, we will not go to war, the flu will not spread and the world will keep on spinning. Given that, we may be able to get by with a smaller-than-normal staff. Now, before some of you rush off on holiday I have one rather important announcement. This affects Remus. Remus, where are you?” Albus asks, his eyes searching the crowd.
Remus, surprised, raises his hand and is pushed forward.
“Remus, I have a tip for you.”
“Excellent.”
“A wedding was privately announced earlier today which I don't believe any other paper in town knows about and I want you to be the first to report on this particular ‘union’ as it is between two of our most esteemed colleagues. May I introduce, the newly engaged – Sarah Smith-Alcott and Benjy Fenwick.” Albus grins as he gestures to Benjy and Sarah, who have made their way to stand next to him.
Remus’s heart stops. He thinks that he’s dying.
He feels like everyone’s eyes are on him and he desperately rallies himself not to cry in front of all of his colleagues. Peter catches his eye and Remus shakes his head furiously. Not now, he can’t think about anything now.
Benjy is speaking, but Remus can’t hear a word. He’s marrying another person. Not only someone else, but he’s marrying a woman.
Remus’s heart is physically cracking as Benjy catches his gaze. Remus puts on his bravest smile and inclines his head in approval. They look at each other for one long moment before Remus has to get out. He simply cannot be in this newsroom for one more second. He’s going to lose his mind.
“Remus!” He hears Peter call after him.
Remus gathers his briefcase in a hurry and shuts his computer off, barely stopping to grab his coat and scarf before booking the hell out of there.
“Remus!” Peter tries again, much closer now.
He catches him in an empty hallway. Remus is breathing heavily, his eyes squeezed shut.
“Hey, I’m sorry. That was brutal to watch.” Peter says as they face each other in the hall, leaning against opposite walls.
“I don’t want to hear it, Pete. I just want to go home.” Remus says raggedly.
Peter’s eyes soften. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright. I can give you a lift home if you’d like. I just need to grab my things.”
Remus briefly feels guilty for snapping. “I’m alright, thank you. I just want to get out of here.”
Peter nods. “Yeah, I get that. Call me when you get home. Maybe we can go out and get drinks with James?”
“Yeah, maybe,” Remus says.
“Okay. Love you, mate. It’s going to be alright.”
Remus nods before exiting the building.
~
Regulus wakes to footsteps stomping around downstairs. He rolls his eyes. Couldn’t he have just left already?
“Regulus,” calls out through the house, Barty’s voice grating on Regulus’s nerves.
Rolling his eyes so hard that it hurts, Regulus pulls on a robe and sweeps out of his room, an unimpressed eyebrow raised as he watches his ex wander around his house in his boxers.
“Do you ever tire of the sound of your voice? I surely do.” Regulus says with a blank face.
“Reggie, come on. Will you let me back in our room? I said I was sorry.” Barty asks, completely shameless in his lack of clothing as a housekeeper passes them with a judging look in Barty’s direction.
“You said, and I quote, ‘You know how I feel about you,’ which is not an apology. And you still haven’t fessed up to the cheating, which I’m already aware of.” Regulus says before turning back around and walking back into his room.
“May I just say again that I didn’t sleep with her,” Barty says.
Done with it, Regulus grabs a nearby slipper and chucks it at Barty’s head, landing with a satisfying thunk. Barty winces.
“Right. Your receptionist needs to work until 3 in the morning?” Regulus says.
“A bunch of us were working late. We hung out.”
Regulus laughs humorlessly. “Okay. Swear on my life that you didn’t sleep with her.” He waits, the other slipper in his hand. “Go ahead.”
Barty hesitates, which causes Regulus to throw the other slipper, the other man ducking this time.
“You’re the most uncreative person I’ve ever met, Barty. You couldn’t do any better than your 19-year-old receptionist. Not confident anyone older couldn’t see through your bullshit?”
Regulus walks around the room to gather up Barty’s things, haphazardly stuffing them in a suitcase. “See. This is why I knew we shouldn't get married. This is why I told you never to give up your house. I knew it. Inside, somehow I knew this.”
Barty rolls his eyes hard. “First of all, I did not sleep with her and secondly, we've had problems for over a year. You don't want to deal with that, I know, but we have, so let's not make this about Ophelia.”
“Oh, I'm well aware we've had problems for over a year. If I work a little too much I never stop hearing about it but if you work too much, maestro, it's for the sake of your ‘music’.” Regulus grits, his hands still throwing random items into the suitcase.
“If you work too much? Reggie, you cut 75 trailers this year. You put a cutting room in the house, you sleep with your phone in the bed. When was the last time we had sex? Want to take a guess?” Barty says, his cheeks flushed with anger.
“Oh, come on, no one has time for sex.” Regulus brushes off.
“That’s not true. Okay?”
Seeing red, Regulus whips around and shoves Barty into the door. “That’s it. You’re out. I never want to see your face, hear your voice, or listen to one more of your idiotic guitar ballads ever again. Get the fuck out.” Regulus keeps pushing him until Barty is stumbling down the stairs, catching himself on the railing at the last minute.
“I thought you were giving me my things?”
“You’re lucky if I find the time to ship them to you,” Regulus says, shooing Barty away with a lazy flick of his hand.
“Do you hear yourself? Are you even sad right now? Were we ever in love?” Barty says, his mouth twisted in a cruel line.
“You know what I think, Barty? I think you loved the idea of you and me, but not so much me. Not really.”
“I don't even know what that means except that you're criticizing the way I loved you. I did the best I could. Is anyone good enough for that job?”
Regulus stares ahead blankly. That hurts, but he’s not going to show it. He doesn’t do emotions, hasn’t in years. This will not get to him.
“I’ll send you your things when I feel like it.” He says, walking down the stairs and shoving Barty along with him.
They make it to the front door and Barty stops them. “You know you do this, right? You screw up every relationship you've ever been in. It's what you do.”
Regulus rolls his eyes before opening the door and pushing Barty out. He slams the door and locks it before leisurely walking back up to his room, Barty’s voice still following him.
“Something about you doesn't want to be a couple. Not really. You resist it in your way. And it's hard to detect how you even do it 'cause nobody's quite as smart as you, so you're hard to catch at it, but it always surfaces and this is what happens.”
Regulus grinds his jaw and opens a window to look down at Barty. “What happens?”
“Things end. Just like you knew they would. Look, you know how I feel about you. There's nobody like you, but you don't want to be what I need. Not what I need. . . well, you know what I mean.”
Regulus keeps staring. “I would never cheat on you. Not under any circumstance.”
“Neither would I!” Barty throws his hands up. “Look at me! I’m down here begging like a peasant and you’re up there like some type of God. I think you’re the only person to break up with their significant other without shedding a single tear… that’s got to mean something, right?”
“Why does that bug you so much?”
“It feels like I’m with a robot sometimes. You just get this expression and no one can get through to you. You’re hard to love, Reg. Too hard.”
Regulus takes a solid step back. His mother’s words ring through his mind, those exact words.
No one will ever love you because it’s too difficult, Regulus.
He rubs his chest, feeling it cramp slightly. “Fuck.” He mutters.
Barty’s face is ashen when Regulus looks down. Regulus wants to reassure him. “I’m fine.”
“Yeah, I know, I was thinking about me.” Barty sneers.
Needing to hear the truth, Regulus throws Barty one last bone. “Barty, we’re done. This was never going to work out. But I need to hear it… I just need to know. Did you sleep with her?”
Barty bites his lip, clearly debating.
“Just put me out of my misery. I can handle it.”
“Okay,” Barty says, and Regulus goes silent. “I slept with her. Are you happy? I’ve been sleeping with her, she’s in love with me. She’s young…”
The gardener pulling weeds looks over at Barty with a disapproving expression. Regulus feels gratified.
“Look, I’m not proud of this…”
Without another word, Regulus closes the window and walks back downstairs, opening the front door again with a dark expression. “Did you say, ‘Am I happy’?”
Barty groans. “I didn't mean that. You get me nuts then I say things I don't mean.”
“Do you know what cheating is, Barty?” Regulus asks, cutting off Barty’s rambling. “It's a coward's way of breaking up. And at its core, what it is ... is unkind. Because it makes everyone involved, including me, feel cheap and crazy. It's a bad way to end things because this is how I'll always think of you. Not as that guy I spent three years with and went to Hawaii with and took cooking lessons with ... You will always and forever be the asshole that lied and cheated and nothing you ever say or do from this moment on will ever change my mind about you. In the world of love – not that I'm such a genius at it– but in the world of love, cheating is simply not acceptable.”
“Okay…”
“And the fact that in this fight, you made this about me and not you makes ‘asshole’ the nicest thing I can ever say about you,” Regulus says.
“No matter what you think and I know you have a very high opinion of yourself – this isn't all me. And when you're not in such a rage, you'll know it too.”
“Yeah. Maybe when the rage subsides and I stop having visions of you two together, I'll see your side.” Regulus spits before flipping the other man off and storming back into his house.
He mutters angrily to himself while pacing back and forth, anger coming off of him in waves as his assistant and best friend, Pandora walks in. “Is this a bad time?”
“No. I'm just flipping out a little. Fuck! I'm alright. Shit! I'm okay. What's up?” Regulus has always possessed the ability to switch subjects at lightning speed.
“Dorcas needs you.”
He follows Pandora out to the guest house, which has been turned into a cutting room, where Dorcas is sitting behind a screen with a pile of notes in front of her.
“Is it better?” Regulus asks.
“Yeah, your changes were good. I just need you to sign off on it so I can get it over to the studio. They want it on the air tomorrow.”
Regulus nods and gestures for her to hit play. The three of them watch the trailer, a new action movie that they’ve marketed to look intense, while still full of heart. Lots of car chases, pretty girls in bikinis, guys shooting at each other in expensive suits.
“It finally looks like a hit,” Regulus says when it’s done.
“And that’s why they pay you the big bucks.” Dorcas grins.
Regulus grins back. “Change the color of the closing frame, make it more red. And linger a bit on that last line, that guy has a great smile. Other than that, I think it’s great.”
Dorcas nods and writes down the notes. “Okay.”
“Okay.” Regulus nods, his head still swimming from his argument with Barty. “Hey, why don’t we take a break for a few weeks?”
Dorcas laughs. “Right.”
“I’m not kidding. Everyone else in town takes off for Christmas.”
“Yeah, but you always say that Christmas is our busiest–”
“I need a break. And the people in the office can handle things while we rest.”
“You’re going to let them handle things?” Dorcas questions, she and Pandora sharing a disbelieving look.
“I need to get out of town, need some… peace and quiet or whatever it is that people do when they go on vacation. I need to read a book without wanting to stab my eyes out because I could be working instead. I need to stop seeing visions of Barty fucking his 19-year-old receptionist, really.”
“A vacation sounds like an excellent idea,” Pandora says, her eyes wide and alarmed as she glances back at Dorcas.
Regulus nods. “Right.”
~
His fingers type away at his computer, Google searching “vacation destinations” in hopes of finding something good. Lots of tropical places, which is not his style. California is tropical enough for him, thank you very much. He’s half-debating buying a ticket to Alaska and hiding out in a dark cave for two weeks.
He clicks through various locations, wrinkling his nose at most of them. He could go to France, seeing as he’s fluent in the language, but he really can’t be bothered with that. “Where do they speak English?”
He clicks on England and scrolls through the cities, randomly deciding on Surrey. A small cottage pops up, piquing Regulus’s interest.
Christmas in the country. A fairy tale English cottage set in a tranquil country garden. Snuggle up by the old brick fireplace and enjoy a glowing fire and a cup of cocoa. An enchanting oasis of tranquility in a quiet English hamlet just forty minutes from exciting London.
“Hmm…” Regulus scrolls through the pictures, the home looking idyllic indeed.
He types out a quick message and hits send.
~
Remus startles at the sound of his computer chiming. He’s been wallowing in misery for the past hour, not even bothering to take off his coat and slumping down in the nearest chair he could find, his mind immediately disassociating as he contemplates quitting his job and moving away to Fiji. Getting up, he stumbles over to his computer and clicks it on. A message from that home-switch website he signed up for years ago pops up.
Regulus Black
Hello, my name is Regulus. I’m interested in renting your home for Christmas. Is it available?
Frowning, Remus types back.
Remus Lupin
Sorry, it’s only available for home exchange.
He can see Regulus typing, then stop, so he continues his message.
Remus Lupin
We switch houses, cars, everything. I haven't done it before but friends of mine have. Supposed to be great. Where are you?
“Please say somewhere far.” Remus mumbles.
Regulus Black
L.A.
Remus cheers to himself. “Jackpot.”
Remus Lupin
I've never been there but always wanted to go. I'm Remus, by the way. I'm very normal. Neat freak. Healthy. Bookworm. Single.
“Hate my horrible fucking life,” Remus adds quietly.
Regulus Black
I’m Regulus. Loner, unlikeable, complicated wreck.
Remus laughs to himself.
Remus Lupin
Hi.
Regulus Black
Hi.
Must say, your house looks idyllic. Just what I need.
Remus grins. He hasn’t heard that one before. Mostly, James and Peter complain about how small it is.
Remus Lupin
Thank you. What does your place look like? I don't need much ... just love the idea of being 6000 miles from here.
Regulus Black
I get that. My place is nice – a little bigger than yours.
Remus Lupin
Not hard to be.
Regulus Black
I have Three Bedrooms, Four Baths, a Kitchen, a Family Room, a Media Room…
“Is he joking?” Remus mutters.
Regulus Black
Home office, Gym, Pool, and Guest House.
Remus laughs a bit hysterically. There’s no way this guy would want to switch houses.
Remus Lupin
I have a kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, living room. That's it.
“Doubt you’ll want to switch now,” Remus says, preparing himself for disappointment.
Regulus Black
Sounds perfect
His jaw drops. He did not expect that.
Regulus Black
When do we want to leave?
Remus Lupin
Tomorrow too soon??
Regulus Black
Tomorrow is perfect.
“What the fuck is my life right now?” Remus breathes out.
Regulus Black
Can I call you to make sure you’re not an ax murderer?
Remus laughs.
Remus Lupin
My thoughts exactly.
They exchange numbers and Remus hits call. “Hello?”