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Chairs on the Ceiling


Remus woke up for find Sirius splayed across the foot of his bed, half clutching an empty glass, whose content had spilled over the carpet. Sirius’s shirt was torn at the shoulder, there was dirt on his face, and bits of twig and leaf in his hair. On his own bed across the room, James was in a similar state of disarray, and a large, nearly empty bottle of firewhiskey stood on the desk beside a stack of books. The desk chairs were missing. Remus looked up and found them. Permanent sticking charms had been applied to the bottom of the feet of the chairs and there they hung from the ceiling. He stared up at them, unsure exactly what the hell to think about it, when he heard a murmur -- “Get over here and kiss me before I go mad with wanting you.”

Remus looked down at Sirius, whose bleary eyes were all red and staring at him slightly unfocused. “Why are there chairs on the ceiling?” he asked.

“Are there?” he rotated his head with a groan to look, his chin pressed to his neck to see, and he blinked up at them uncertainly for several moments before rolling his head back as it was, “Bloody hell, wonder when we did that?”

Remus reached down and took the cup from Sirius’s hands. “I’m guessing about halfway through that bottle.”

Sirius’s breath came out like a laugh and he half-closed his eyes. “Turn the lights out Moony. It’s ruddy bright in here.”

“It’s called sunlight, and I’m afraid I’m not capable of turning the sun off,” Remus replied.

Sirius swung his arm over his eyes. “Fuck the sun.”

Remus put the cup down on the nightstand. “Any chance of you explaining to me exactly what happened last night?” he asked.

“Prongs and I had a little fun is all,” Sirius mumbled from under his arm, “Apparently we stuck chairs to the ceiling… There might’ve been a little bit of drinking involved.”

“If by a little you mean you consumed enough Firewhiskey to drink even Hagrid under the table, then sure,” Remus said. He got up and used his wand to siphon the spilled firewhiskey from the carpet.

“Hagrid wasn’t there, but I bloody drank James out of the running. Poor little bugger. Barely had a drop and he was pissed.”

Remus didn’t reply. He grabbed onto Sirius’s legs and swung them onto the bed properly, Sirius groaning as his body rotated about on the mattress. “You’ve ripped your shirt,” Remus said.

Sirius looked over at his shoulder at the tear, then looked at Remus. “Mend it, Moony.”

“I’ll mend it later after you’ve taken it off,” Remus answered.

“I’ll take it off now,” Sirius offered. “And my trousers, too. And I’ll take off your shirt and your trousers and I’ll lay on top of you so we both fit in the bloody bed and I’ll snog you sore. Get over here.” He wiggled his fingers, beckoning Remus over. “Or, even better, we’ll strip these clothes and then you can come and you lay on top of me, for a change, so I’ve got all the space in the bed... I want to feel the weight of you on top of me, Moony.”

Remus smirked at him. “It’s morning, you blithering idiot. You’ve partied through the night. You’ll have to feel my weight later.”

“It’s morning already? Bloody hell, is that why the sun’s out? But I want it to still be night. That night didn’t count, as I don’t remember it.” He waved his wand, “There, I’ve just made it midnight again. Now come… I want to sleep with you.”

Remus blinked. “Sirius -- I don’t think it’s such a great idea to -- I mean, we’ve only just -- only a month -- and --”

“I mean literally sleep you filthy-minded wolf. I’m far too drunk and tired to bugger you.”

Remus’s face went as red as red gets. Then, because he knew Sirius wouldn’t expect it as a reply, “Who says you’re the one that’s going to bugger me? Maybe I’ll be the one buggering you, ever think of that?”

Sirius hooted in amusement. “Moony said bugger! This may be the best moment of my entire life. You want to be the one to do the buggering, do you?”

“Can we not talk about this please?” Remus requested, “At least not while you’re drunk and making a joke of me?”

Sirius lowered his arm, wincing at the light so that he was squinting at Remus, his lips dancing with amusement. “I’m sorry, my love. I wasn’t making a joke of you. I could never make a joke of you. Not of you. You’re the least funny person I know.” He paused. “I mean that in a good way. I mean you’re funny when you try to be but you’re not funny for joking about.”

Remus shook his head and rolled his eyes.

Peter was stirring in the next bed over, he stretched and blinked about the room. “Why are our chairs on the ceiling?”

“Sirius and James,” Remus replied.

“We were going to stick you up there, too, but the charm wouldn’t adhere your arse to the seat, Pettigrew,” Sirius murmured into the fold of his elbow.

Peter’s eyes went wide, “What?”

“He’s joking. I think,” Remus said. He reached over and slapped Sirius’s leg, “Don’t be a git.”

“I’mnotagitt…” Sirius murmured, falling asleep.

“Nope. Wake up, you’re not going to sleep,” Remus said, shaking Sirius. He looked at Peter. “Wake James up, will you?”

“Maybe we should just let them sleep,” said Peter tentatively.

“They have to go to class.”

Sirius was snoring.

“I mean they don’t look like they’re going anywhere at all,” Peter said.

“They are not getting away with spending the night drinking copious amounts of firewhiskey and skivving off class, it’s not alright.” Remus grabbed hold on Sirius’s arm and tugged.

Peter hesitated, then got up and went over to where James was sprawled across his bed, his glasses still on, hanging askew off his ears and nose, his mouth gaping opened. Peter reached one finger up and poked it against James’s cheek. “Jaaaames,” he whispered, “Remus says you have to wake up now.”

“No,” James breathed.

“Remus said --”

Suddenly there was a shout and Peter turned about to see Sirius had pulled Remus down on top of him.

“Tell Remus to back to sleep, we’re all skivving today,” James murmured, and he closed his eyes.




The very next morning, it happened again; Remus woke to find all four of their desks had joined the chairs on the ceiling. There were wrappers from chocolate frogs and another empty firewhiskey bottle on the floor and two boys conspicuously missing from their beds. There were stripes painted down the halls of the castle - orange and blue and Filch was forced to spend half the day restoring portraits who had been victims of the prank…

That evening, Sirius came down to the common room, to the table where Remus was working on a paper for Professor Slughorn, and he draped himself over Remus’s shoulders, making a fist about his tie, “Come upstairs with me,” Sirius begged him, “I need your help.”

Lily looked up from the book she was reading.

“You don’t need help,” Remus said, “Don’t lie, I’m not stupid.”

Sirius murmured, “Please. I need you, how’s that?”

“A bit more honest,” Remus ceeded.

Lily watched as Remus packed up his things, Sirius running ahead upstairs. “He’s acting funny,” she said.

Remus nodded.

“Is everything alright?” she asked.

Remus glanced over his shoulder to be sure Sirius had gone all the way to the dormitory. “He was bothered by what happened at the Lestrange house a bit more than he’s letting on to everyone else is all.”

Lily frowned. “I’ve had nightmares myself from it and I was only there a few minutes…”

Remus’s voice was very, very low. “You-Know-Who put him under an imperius,” he whispered, leaning close to Lily so that none of the other students could hear him. “Made him try to kill me… and Sirius fought it, but it looked like agony… and the spell that was intended for me… it struck a death eater. He thinks he’s a murderer… he won’t listen to reason… and he’s not dealing with it very well. Been up all night the last two nights, hanging furniture from the ceiling and drinking enough firewhiskey to intoxicate a hippogriff...”

Lily covered her mouth.

Remus sighed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have dumped all of that on you. But… you listen when nobody else does.”

Lily said, “That’s what friends are for, Rey.”

“I’m just worried about him is all.”

“I understand,” Lily replied. Absently, without even realizing she was doing it, her hand went to her throat to pet the gold stag antler there.

Remus’s eyes followed her hand. “What is that on your necklace anyway? A stick?”

“Antlers,” she replied. “Potter gave it to me.”

“Potter? James Potter?” Remus raised an eyebrow. Lily nodded. “The James Potter? Wears spectacles and has wildly messy hair? The idiot one over there fighting with Pettigrew over the chair by the fire?”

“Is there more than one of him?” Lily asked, a mock tone of worry to her voice.

Remus smiled.

“What?” she asked.

He shook his head, “Nothing, Lil. Nothing at all.” He shoved the last of his books into his bag. “I’ve got to get upstairs,” he said.

“Wait. Remus… Remus, what were you smiling about just now?”

Remus shook his head, “Not a thing, Lily. See you.” He turned and jogged off up the stairs.

Lily’s hand was still on her neck as she watched him go.

“I was here first!!!” Peter was whining by the fire.

“But I always sit here!” James was arguing, trying to pry Peter out of the seat. Peter was clutching the armrests and squealing. “It’s my spot!”

Lily rolled her eyes.




Upstairs, Sirius was waiting on his bed. The moment Remus came in and shut the door, Sirius waved his wand to lock it behind him. Remus put his books down in the spot where his desk used to stand before it was hung on the ceiling, and he turned to look at Sirius laying there across the bed in just his jeans. His heart skipped a beat in spite of himself as his eyes traveled over Sirius’s chest, the way his collarbone was so clearly defined and the line of his abdomen. He shook his head to clear the thoughts that were going through it.

“Sirius, we need to talk.”

Sirius shook his head, “Moony… I don’t fancy a talk right now.”

“But Sirius --” Remus waved his hands at the desks and chairs on the ceiling, “You’re obviously upset about -- what happened -- and you need ---”

“I need for you to shut up about it and come over here and make me feel better.”

Remus stood there looking frustrated and helpless.

“How many times have I just held you, Moony, without any questions at all?” Sirius asked, “Just.. turned into Snuffles and let you cry into my fur without making you talk about it?”

“Countless,” Remus whispered.

Tears were in Sirius’s eyes. “Please, Rey. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Remus sighed and he walked over to the bed.

“Take your jumper off,” Sirius said.

Remus turned red, “You don’t wanna see me with all my stupid scars all over.”

“I love your scars.”

Remus reached down and pulled the jumper off. “There. You happy?”

Sirius nodded.

“Brilliant. Now push over.”

“Lay on me,” Sirius pleaded, “Please?”

“You want me to crush you then?” Remus asked, “Is that it?”

“Yes.”

So Remus lay so that he was leaning over him, their chests pressed together, and as he relaxed slowly, his weight pressing against Sirius, a great breath of relief escaped Sirius’s lungs. Remus ran his hands through Sirius’s hair. “It’s going to be okay.”

Sirius’s eyes held those tears still, and he stared up at Remus through them, his breath trembled, and his face crumpled, “I feel so guilty… I feel like my soul’s -- I’ve been broken -- right… right in half… my heart… it hurts Rey.”

Remus whispered, “I hate Voldemort. I hate him for doing this to you.” He shook his head, “We’ll get you put back together, Sirius. I promise. I won’t let you fall apart. I won’t… I’ll hold you together…. I’ll do anything it takes to make it better.”

“Just stay here,” whispered Sirius, his voice drifting… eyes flickering closed...

Remus nodded, “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

He watched as Sirius fell asleep.