Work Header

eton rifles

Work Text:

The palms of Remus’ hands sting as they scrape against brick and he hisses as his knee hits the wall. He feels the sharp edge of jagged metal against his ankle and grins, manoeuvring his leg so that he can use the metal to push up on. His arms burn as he pulls himself over the wall, and he can feel hands around his shoulders, pulling him down onto the roof of the dilapidated building.

“Thought you were gonna pussy out for a second,” says the voice belonging to one of the hands, although Remus can’t remember his name.

He smiles anyway and says, “Fuck off. I’ve never.”

Remus turns back, looking over the wall and wipes his bloody hand on his school shirt before reaching down to help Peter over pull himself over the wall.

“Fuck,” Peter says, sticking his leg out to show Remus the fresh hole in his trousers, just over his knee. “Mum’ll kill me. She just bought these.”

“Nah, hide it,” Remus suggests, “or give ‘em to me. My mam can sew, probably." 

“Probably?” Peter smiles.

“Well, I dunno. Mams can sew, can’t they?”

“Mums, yes. Not too sure about mams,’ Peter quips, and Remus pushes his chest.

“Fuck off, toff. There’s Welsh blood in these veins,” he says, pushing the sleeve of his school shirt further up his arm, exposing his inner elbow and tapping it.

“You’ve never been to Wales in your life,” Peter notes, pushing Remus’ arm away.

“That’ll be where you’re wrong. Pretty sure I was like, four, but I’ve been.”

“That doesn’t count,” Peter begins to say, but his voice is drowned out by a another on the street.

“Lads!” Marlene shouts, hands cupped around her mouth in a failed attempt to amplify her voice. “Get down here before I come up and get you.”

“Try it.” Remus shouts back, kicking a stone off of the edge of the building at her.

“Oi, that was huge,” she complains before pushing a younger boy out of the way and placing her hands on the wall, ready to climb. 

She’s interrupted, though, by a boy Remus recognises from his English class. “The toffs are getting off!” he yells from his position on his bike.

There’s a chorus of shouts and Remus hears, “Oh, aye? With each other, probably,” from an older boy behind him. Peter laughs, so Remus does too.

“There a row?” Marlene asks from where she’s backed away from the bottom of the wall to avoid the mass of kids jumping down onto the streets.

“Reckon so,” Remus answers after landing on the ground himself. He looks down the street at the large group of schoolboys and thinks about Sirius.



Remus shifts the change in his pocket as he walks, jacket zipped all the way up against the wind and hood covering his hair. He thinks about how he would much rather be at home, but he was the one who used that last of the milk, so it’s only fair that he goes out to get more.

He’s so lost in his own thoughts that he almost misses the distinct moan that comes from the alley to his left, and the laughter that follows.

“Oh, Conor. You know I won’t let slip even the tiniest detail of this little tryst,” says a voice that Remus thinks is way too posh to be on this street. “Discretion is key.”

He takes a few more steps and turns to look towards the voices, stopping dead when he’s greeted with the sight of a tallish blonde boy leaning against the wall, hands zipping up his trousers. What really catches Remus’ eye, though, is the second boy. The one still on his knees with dark hair falling into his eyes as he breathes heavily, not bothering to even stand up.

The kneeling boy turns to look at Remus and lets out a small laugh before turning back to his partner. “Or maybe it’s not.”

Remus knows he should just keep walking and let the two boys get on with it by themselves, but something in his stomach tells him that if he does, he’ll never be able to get this encounter, or the boy on his knees, out of his brain. He blinks a few times, and the blonde boy is already making his way out of the other side of the alley and onto the next street, while the other is beginning to stand up.

“Like what you saw?” he asks, sauntering towards Remus.

“Are you queer?”

The boy laughs, “Bloody hell, I should hope so,” he says, “or didn’t you see me three seconds ago with a cock in my mouth?”

“I actually,” Remus starts, ready to explain to him that he hadn’t actually seen that, but he’s cut off.

“Are you?”


“Are you queer?” he asks, taking another step towards Remus.

“No,” Remus replies, not moving.

“Are you sure about that?” he asks again, eyes flicking down to Remus’ mouth.

Remus doesn’t think about what it means as he pushes the boy further into the alley and up against the wall. He thinks he hears his head hit the wall, but he doesn’t say anything, so Remus places one hand on the boy’s hip and one against the wall near his head to steady himself, before leaning down and pressing their lips together.

“I’m Sirius,” he says against Remus’ mouth.

“Shut up,” says Remus, and Sirius laughs.



Remus is out of breath by the time they’re half way there, but he doesn’t stop. He can hear shouts and whoops all around him and it’s hard not to get swept up by all the excited energy. Marlene is running alongside him, grinning.

“Haven’t seen a good punch up in ages,” she says, sounding as out of breath as Remus.

“Haven’t had a good punch up in ages,” Remus replies.

“Deserve it though, don’t they? Toffs.”

“Yeah,” Remus says, slowing down. “Yeah, they do.”



“So, it’s okay?” Remus asks, playing with the fingers of Sirius’ left hand. “In your school.”

Sirius laughs. “No. I can imagine it’s a right sight better than in yours, though.”

Remus nods absent-mindedly, checking the window for the third time in ten minutes.

“I thought you said she wasn’t home until six." 

“She isn’t.”

“Then relax,” Sirius says, rolling on top of Remus and sitting up to straddle him. “We have all the time in the world.”

“You’re a menace,” Remus says, but he’s smiling as Sirius leans down to kiss him.

It’s soft and sweet and completely unlike the first time they kissed, months ago. Sirius is smiling against his mouth and Remus’ thumb is rubbing circles onto his hip and they both laugh when they bump noses.

Remus lifts a hand to Sirius’ face, stroking his cheek for a second before flipping the over, catching Sirius off guard.

“Oh, Mr Lupin,” Sirius says from below him, “what a surprise.”

“Shut up,” Remus replies, dipping down to kiss him again.

“I love when you tell me what to d -”

“Then do as I say and shut up.”

Remus comes with his fingers in Sirius hair and Sirius’ mouth around him and the smell of Sirius on his skin and he can’t think of anything he would rather be doing.



There are already several fights going on when Remus arrives, and he wonders who was the first to throw a punch. Peter stands at his right shoulder, breathing hard but laughing. He spots Sirius across the field, on the back of a taller boy, pointing ahead of him as if he’s riding into battle. It’s probably James, Remus thinks, eyeing his glasses. Sirius’ head is thrown back in laughter and although Remus’ isn’t in earshot, he’s sure he can hear it anyway.

He catches sight of a blazer coming from his left, and Peter pushes him towards it. He manages to turn to the side, fist colliding with his arm instead of his stomach. He pushes the boy’s chest to gain some distance, before throwing his fist at his face, hitting his cheekbone. The boy falls and Remus turns away, shaking out his hand.

“Nice hit, Remus. Seems like you’ve got some strong hands.” Sirius says, walking towards him, accompanied by James.

“Remus knows a toff?” He hears from behind him, but he doesn’t know who says it.

“Remus, what the fuck?” Peter asks him, putting a hand on his shoulder to turn him around.



“I love you,” Remus says to Sirius, who is lying on his bare chest.

“Oh, do you?” Sirius asks, grinning up at him.

“Shut up.” 

“I love you too,” Sirius says, lifting himself up so that he can kiss Remus’ throat softly. 

“Mm, you want to go again already?”

“No,” Sirius laughs, “I just couldn’t reach your face.”

“Well, here,” Remus says, shifting so that he’s lying flatter on the bed.

“Wonderful.” Sirius kisses Remus’ cheek and forehead and nose, and Remus laughs.

“You’re so weird.”

“But you love me,” Sirius points out.

“Yes,” Remus replies, “I do.”



Sirius stops in front of Remus, looking up at him. “Hi.”

“Who’s that?” Marlene asks, laughing, “Are you gonna hit him?”  

Sirius looks at Marlene, confused, and then back at Remus. “Did you see me on James’ back?”

Remus looks behind him at all of his school friends, each sharing looks and whispering.

“Remus?” Sirius asks again, and Remus’ fist hits his face.

James is rushing forward, pushing his chest and shouting, and Remus pushes him back. There are cheers around him, and he can hear Marlene and Peter yelling. James is being pulled away from him by the blonde boy from the alley, and Remus shoves past James to swing at him, barely making contact.

By the time the scuffle has cleared, Remus can’t see Sirius anywhere. There are people everywhere, helping him up, clapping him on the back, ruffling his hair, but he can’t see Sirius anywhere. 



Remus stands at the gate of the place he despises, looking at the boy he most certainly loves. Even at a distance he can see the red marks he’s left on Sirius’ face, but Sirius’ mood doesn’t seem to be affected.  James’ arm is slung around his shoulders as they walk the long path out of the school, and Sirius is talking with his hands, making grand gestures and laughing.

When they near, Remus calls out, but Sirius doesn’t turn. James does, though, but he only shakes his head before pulling Sirius along with him.