Nocturnal Emissions - 5. Something Wicked This Way Comes

Remus Lupin is a severely baffled boy.

Baffled about what’s happening on this very confusing night. Baffled about why his best friend Sirius Black is behaving the way he is. And baffled about where Sirius is going and why.

The only thing Remus is not baffled about is his feelings regarding said Sirius Black—he loves him with all his heart and always has. Which is why he made no objection to being placed with Sirius in a single bed at the Pettigrews, unaware of any of the turmoil which raged in Sirius' heart. All he knew was that to be in such proximity to him was glorious, even though he was sure Sirius didn't feel the same way about him. After all, wasn't he the reigning sex god of Hogwarts? Didn't he cut a swath through the females of the school as surely as ever sickle passed through sheaves of wheat?

Remus had been very much awake when Sirius had first touched him—and the shock of such a move had produced silence on the tawny haired boy's part, an unacknowledged acquiescence as their lips met for the first time, as their bodies ground gloriously together in the rhythm of their "dance". Remus had surely died and gone to heaven, that was the only possible explanation for what was happening to him. and somehow the otherwordliness of the entire encounter gave him the courage to voice his desire, as he whispered, "Touch me," and moved Sirius' hand inside his pajama bottoms. What followed then was pure bliss such as Remus had never experienced before, for he’d never been touched this way by anyone, and even his own touch was nothing as compared to Sirius'. He couldn't have kept from having an orgasm if he'd tried—and he certainly didn't try—and it was just as strong and just as incredible as he’d always imagined it would be.

So why had Sirius looked at him that way? And why had he jumped from the bed as if he'd just been scalded, running into the night without so much as a single word, or a backward glance?

Remus Lupin is a severely baffled boy.

And not only that but he always seems to find himself just a step behind Sirius in this convoluted game of cat and mouse which he’s fairly sure Sirius is unaware they are playing. First at Grimmauld, where he’d had a very interesting conversation with Sirius' brother Regulus. And now by the river, where all that can be seen is Sirius' distant figure, once again on the run. And a doubled-over wretch retching onto the embankment. Remus has a suspicion that is Sirius' doing, and if so he’s sure there’s no information to be gleaned here. So he moves onward, quickening his pace, attempting to reach the boy that he loves so much.

* * * *

Sirius' heart is thumping unbearably, and he’s fleeing as if the devil himself were at his heels—for all he knows, the pervert has recovered his wind and is in close pursuit. Now, where is that pub, please let me find it, he murmurs to himself as if it were a prayer. Surely it must be within plain view or else why mention it? But he’s almost convinced it doesn't exist when suddenly he spies it. Hen's Bane reads the dingy sign, barely legible in the dark. But Sirius needs to know no more as he quickly looks around him, ascertaining that he is indeed alone, and ducks inside the door.

The interior of this place is even darker than the exterior, if that’s possible. At first Sirius is content to lean against the door, letting his pulse return to normal, allowing his heart to stop its bass drum configurations. Gradually he becomes more aware of his surroundings, of the sound of voices talking in low tones, of figures milling about, mostly in twos, at tables, at the bar, and on the dance floor. And to Sirius' surprise, they’re all male. What sort of place it this, he wonders to himself. But before he can gather his thoughts, or decide whether or not he even wishes to stay, he feels his arm being taken in a firm manner, and a deep voice. "Merlin, they grow them younger here all the time. Let me buy you a drink, pretty....."

Sirius' first inclination is to snatch his arm away, but the man is strong, and once again he instinctively reaches for his wand, only to come up empty. But before he can make a reply, he hears another voice, which supersedes the first, and sounds a bit familiar.

"Ah, here you are, then, glad to see you found the place all right. Thanks for looking after him, mate, but I can take it from here..." And he is led off by the second hand, the first dropping away, albeit reluctantly. Sirius looks up to find the man from the embankment—the first one, the one who could pass for an older version of Remus. He even wears a gentle smile, like his friend.

"Sorry about that," he apologizes, "in a place like this, you are undoubtedly a sight to behold, you're so pretty." Sirius blushes at his words, never having been referred to in that way before. "Come, let's get a room where you won't be bothered by all of this. Don't worry, I won't try anything," he hastily assures the boy, and before Sirius knows it, they’re alone in a room off of a hallway. There is a table in the center of the room, with two chairs. Just the table and a fireplace. The man casts incendio upon the hearth and a cheery blaze comes to life.

"Sit, sit please," he urges Sirius, who takes a seat, albeit gingerly, and with much misgivings, poised at the edge as if prepared to take flight. "What would you like to drink? Firewhiskey? Ale? Or perhaps you prefer rum?" He looks at him questioningly.

Sirius decides to play it safe, using common sense, for once. "Tea is good," he replies, tossing back the hair that insists on falling into his face. He can't stop thinking about Remus, and he wishes he hadn't fled quite so quickly. But he doesn't know what else he could have done, considering. His mind returns to what has happened, and he can't help but recall the touch of Remus Lupin, the taste of his lips. Sighing aloud, he turns toward the fire, presenting the profile of a melancholy young pup to the older man. A very desirable melancholy young pup.

"Then tea it is," he says brightly, as he rings for tea for two. "My name is Gabriel, by the way, what would yours be?"

Sirius hesitates for a moment, before replying carefully, "Orion." Not a lie, but not the total truth either. For some reason, he’s reluctant to give his first name to this man.

"Lovely name," the other comments, "you have very starlike qualities, young Orion." His smile is warm, his manner kind. Why does Sirius regard him with distrust? He doesn't know himself.

"Are you warm enough? Would you like the fire higher?" Gabriel asks solicitously, moving one hand toward the boy, who flinches involuntarily.

"No, thank you, I'm fine," he insists.

"Don't be afraid, I mean you no harm," Gabriel assures him, more insistently, as he pushes a stray tendril back behind Sirius' ear. "I'm only concerned about you, that's all." Sirius is afraid that if he encourages him, the man will come even closer, but he’s afraid to look rude by pulling away. A quandary indeed. He looks poised to kiss. Maybe, under other circumstances, Sirius might have found him attractive, despite his age—he must be every bit of twenty-five —but all he can think about is Remus. All he wants is Remus. And all he can't have is Remus.

Just at that moment fate intervenes, in the form of a young man who bears a tray with the tea things, which he places upon the table, asking if they wish him to serve. "No, thank you." Gabriel smiles, "we'll be just fine." He bows to them both and discreetly withdraws. Sirius wonders at the gleam in the young man's eyes, as if he feels there’s something going on that’s amusing, but he can't for the life of him think what.

"What sort of place is this?" he asks, as the other pours the warm liquid into two delicate cups. Gabriel quirks an eyebrow at the question.

"What do you mean by that?" he replies, "it's a pub. You've been to pubs before, haven't you, surely?"

"Yes, but not one like this with only men," Sirius blurts out, and as he speaks the realization of just what sort of place this is hits him. "Oh," he says, his mouth forming an o of amazement.

Gabriel smiles at the dawning awareness on the boy's face. "This is a gay pub, yes," he confirms. "And yes, I am quite gay. Damn," he swears as he drops a teaspoon upon the floor. "Would you mind?"

Sirius is glad of an excuse to break the other's gaze and innocently goes after the dropped utensil, unaware that Gabriel has just taken a small vial from an inner pocket and poured some of the contents into his cup. By the time he returns the spoon to its former position, there is nothing to be seen.

"There you go," Gabriel says, with a warm smile. "That should make you feel better..."

Sirius takes the cup, cradling it at first in his hands, the warmth of it quite soothing to him, before tasting the contents. It is quite good, actually, and before he realizes it, he’as drained the cup.

"Why don't we go to my place and continue our conversation there?" Gabriel suggests.

"No, I don't think so," Sirius insists, sensing that he really should go. Now. Warning bells have begun to sound in his head, and he feels the sudden need to leave. Rising, he heads toward the door. But something isn't quite right here. Everything is assuming a hazy outline, and his muscles don't seem to be obeying him. And his throat has closed up to the point where he doesn't feel he can utter a word.

"Yes, good idea," Gabriel says, as if Sirius has actually agreed with him. He rises as well, places a securing arm about the boy's waist, ushering him toward the door. "It isn't far, love, and once we’re there, I promise you’ll have a very lovely time indeed..."

He opens the door, and helps the unresisting boy through it. Sirius finds that he can do nothing to stop him, cannot even cry out for help, his voice trapped inside of him. His eyes look fearfully about him as he feels himself being moved like some sort of a pawn, his body not under his control at all. What is going to happen to him, and how can he get out of this mess?

Once outside the pub, Gabriel pauses for a moment to exchange a word with someone who is passing by, but Sirius cannot hear them. He begins to slump, but instantly Gabriel is by his side, propping him up. And suddenly the older man has fastened his lips upon Sirius', and is kissing him fiercely, while Sirius is helpless to resist. Merlin, please, please help me....

..... when through the fog that is his brain, he hears a strangely familiar voice. "Let go of him this instant!"