The Person

The Person

Remus rolled over groggily and found that his hand didn’t come into contact with another person, as he’d expected. His head on the pillow, he looked up, finding his companion of the night before on the other side of the room, buttoning robes, brushing them down fastidiously, making Remus smile. Those beautiful brown eyes then met Remus’ before looking down and away, before a flush colored the skin below the eyes. Remus thought the shyness, even after they’d just spent the night together, was adorable. Until this relationship, he’d never slept with anyone when it wasn’t the eve of the full moon, (he’d never really had a real relationship, for that matter) and he had learned that that wasn’t the only time he desired men. He also learned that he wasn’t as strong and aggressive during sex when it wasn’t the eve of the full moon, that he was capable of being a gentle and considerate lover, that his partner didn’t always have to end up bitten and bleeding, or with broken limbs.

He could hardly believe how his life had changed in less than two months. After he’d fled Hogwarts on the day of the Quidditch match, he’d gone back to London through the Floo network, hoping he could cadge a little money from Old Tom, at the Leaky Cauldron, or at least convince him to extend him a little credit. However, when he arrived, the pub had been strangely full and boisterous, as the Wimbourne Wasps were celebrating another Quidditch victory there, with Ludo Bagman, their famous Beater, the center of attention.

Bagman was effusive, buying round after round for everyone in the house, and food too, so that Remus needed neither credit nor a loan. He sat at a corner table, trying to deny the envy gnawing away at him as he watched Bagman at the bar, bragging about the way he’d hit a Bludger right at the opposing team’s Seeker as he was poised to catch the Snitch, which meant that the Wanderers’ Seeker had been able to swoop in and grab it instead, while the other Seeker plummeted to the ground.

“Be in hospital a good month, he will!” one of Bagman’s teammates crowed, slapping Bagman on his yellow and black striped back. Remus shook his head as he drank his stout; he wasn’t above getting a free drink--and a meat pie--from a braggart, but he couldn’t believe the other Wasps being so cavalier about the other Seeker’s injuries. It was the nature of Quidditch that people were injured by Bludgers, and that it was the job of the Beaters to hit the Bludgers at people. (When Remus thought about it, he realized that this amounted to a kind of legal foul, and thought it ironic that something that could kill you if done just right was legal, whereas an elbow in the ribs was not.) It was a built-in danger, part of the territory if you played Quidditch. Bagman had been doing his job and doing it well. Because of him, Remus had some stout to help take the edge off the panic he’d felt when Weasley’s little sister had said child of the moon...

Suddenly, through the crowd, Remus had seen a face looking back at him, a familiar face. The other face smirked; a hand raised a glass to Remus. Remus nodded and continued to gaze at the familiar face, trying to place it.

Hufflepuff, he finally decided. Our year. Twin sister is a Slytherin.

That was it. He was one of the two stranger people in their year: Emil Gaillard. His twin sister, Claudine, was one of the Slytherin girls who’d made Lily think she was her friend. But Remus had always liked Emil; they’d worked together in Herbology sometimes, and Remus found himself strangely transfixed now by the other young man’s waving dark hair, his ironic, very Gallic smile, his shining dark eyes.

Suddenly, Remus realized that the other young man had risen from his chair and was making his way across the room, stepping cautiously around the various celebrating members of the Wimbourne team, until he was standing at Remus’ table, looking down at him.

“Remus Lupin, right?” he’d asked cheerfully. He too was the beneficiary of Bagman’s largesse, so it stood to reason he’d be cheerful about the free food and drink. The Gaillards, despite their name, had no French accents, as they had grown up in England. Remus caught his breath; he remembered feeling oddly mesmerized by Gaillard when he was in school, especially before the full moon. Remus wasn’t certain why he suddenly found the young man so compelling all over again. It could have been the nearness of the full moon, or the fact that Emil had a slight shadow on his face, as though he hadn’t shaved that day, which gave him a slightly feral appearance whose appeal Remus couldn’t deny.

Whatever the reason, Remus suddenly found himself feeling a bit flustered, realizing that the odds that Emil would be interested in him were astronomical (Not that I want him to be.), and that he’d probably only walked across to him to be polite. There was also the fact that Remus was clearly just about the only option a person in the Leaky Cauldron had if they didn’t want to have a conversation about how wonderful the Wimbourne Wasps were, and Ludo Bagman in particular. Everyone else in the pub was rather single-mindedly worshipping the victorious team and its star Beater.

“Right. And you are--don’t tell me--” Remus said, even though he remembered. He didn’t want to seem too eager. If he was interested in me, what would I do? Probably die of shock.

“Emil Gaillard,” he said, grinning and holding out his hand. Remus shook it while trying not to melt into a puddle under his chair. Damn, he thought. Dimples. Forgot about those. Stop grinning already and get rid of those dimples!

But Gaillard had not stopped grinning. He waved his glass at the assembled revelers, saying, “Do you believe this? You’d think they had won the World Cup, or done something that was actually important..” He seemed unconcerned about a Wimbourne supporter hearing him and accusing him of blasphemy. If he didn’t have his werewolf hearing, Remus would have had to strain to hear him over the noisy crowd. Taking a deep breath, Remus waved his hand as casually as possible at a chair next to his.

“Join me?”

“Thanks,” Emil said briefly, putting down his glass and pulling out the chair. When he was seated, he took another sip of his drink and then looked at Remus.

“You look all right. In school you used to look tired quite a lot. What’re you doing these days?”

I’m busy denying that I’m in a prophecy concerning the biggest dark wizard bastard to come along in thirty-odd years. You?

Remus shook himself, irritated, trying to get Weasley’s little sister and the Prophecy out of his head. He thought Emil was probably referring to the fact that he was remarkably calm for once, despite the full moon coming in a matter of hours. He knew that he was relaxed because of his encounter with the she-wolf, Luna, at the werewolf pub. That and the stout. But suddenly, sitting next to Emil, knowing that if he moved his leg a mere six inches to the left he’d bump the other man’s leg, he wondered what would have happened if he’d gone off with the man he’d seen eyeing him from the end of the bar at the werewolf pub....

“Not much. Still looking for work. You?”

“Ministry hack, of course. Thanks to my dad. Pushing a lot of papers about. Counting blades of grass is probably more stimulating,” he laughed, taking a swig of his drink. Remus fought down a cough and also took a drink; somehow the word “stimulating” had had a stimulating effect on him, and he felt acutely embarrassed now.

“Erm, sorry. I think I’d rather be a Ministry hack than jobless. Maybe something will open up in another department and you can transfer. Where are you now?”

He sighed. “International Magical Cooperation.”

“Ah,” Remus said, having no idea what working in that department would entail, so he couldn’t even think of any halfway intelligent questions to ask about it. “Do you ever see anyone from other departments?”

“Sure. Especially in the commissary. But everyone knows everyone else, and even my dad says he can’t spend all day introducing me to everyone he knows, so when I go to lunch, I’m alone in this room full of people talking to each other, all of these conversations I can’t join. It’s a mess. I’m a mess, and I feel completely stupid and useless.” He sighed. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to lay this on you. Tell you what--if I hear of any openings at the Ministry, I’ll owl you, all right? Since you’re looking for work.” He stopped and laughed. “Now that I’ve made it sound so appealing and all.”

Remus laughed now too; Emil was engaging and funny and attractive and oh hell, what do you think you’re doing? Most women would kill to have him ask them out; he’d never go for blokes in a million years. I don’t go for blokes either, Remus reminded himself abruptly. And then, Not usually. Followed by: Do I?

He felt very confused suddenly; when he’d been attracted to boys before, it was always during his pre-full-moon mania. Or so he’d told himself. Now that being with Luna had calmed him down, his attraction to men should have waned. Shouldn’t it? He looked at the young man sitting with him, drinking his stout with a smile, and then he realized that Emil had put his heavy glass down and that they were looking in each other’s eyes intently. The other man wasn’t looking away.

Oh my god, Remus thought. I must be dreaming....

Emil swallowed his drink and cleared his throat a little. “Erm, listen Remus. I--I wasn’t really very open about this at school for--for obvious reasons--” He looked furtively around at the raucous crowd; no one seemed to be paying them any heed. “But, er, I was wondering whether--whether you’d like to get a drink sometime....”

Remus smiled at him and laughed, raising his own stout. “Like this?” he said mischievously. Emil slapped one hand over his eyes.

“Oh, god, I’m so stupid. You must think I’m the biggest--”

“No,” Remus said adamantly, putting his hand over the one Emil wasn’t using to hold his drink, then guiltily pulling his hand back again, looking around to see whether anyone had noticed the brief contact their fingers had made.

Emil looked at him, wide-eyed. “I--I was never sure about anyone in school. You don’t like to ask, do you? I--I thought I saw you--saw you looking at--at someone once, and the way you--you looked at him made me think--just maybe--”

Remus surveyed the bottom of his glass. “Just out of curiosity--who did you see me looking at?”

“Virgil. Virgil Clifton. Or rather--he said something about it later, in our dorm. He said, ‘Was Lupin ogling me during Herbology today?’ Sounded a bit upset. I was glad I’d never let on that I’d ogled him, too. We did share a dorm for seven years. It wasn’t like I had a choice of what to see sometimes. I suppose I was able to be a bit more subtle. I didn’t really fancy him, mind you. I thought he was a pillock.”

Remus looked around furtively again. “So did I. I don’t remember it, the ogling, but it’s possible that it happened. That my--mind could have wandered. I certainly remember Virgil and--and what he looked like.”

Emil nodded and an adorable lopsided smile appeared on his face. Remus tried very hard to control himself when he saw that. “Pillock or not, Virgil had no idea how good he looked when--” He stopped and reddened. “Sorry. So--what about a drink sometime? As in some other time?” he added hopefully.

Remus nodded, checking his watch. “Yeah. Unfortunately--I’ve got somewhere to be very soon. Appointment at the Ministry,” he added, in case Emil wanted to follow him. It was true. He had an appointment to be locked up like the wild animal he was until the full moon was over.

“Oh! Job interview? Odd for it to be on the weekend, isn’t it?”

Remus shrugged. “Not really what I’d call an interview.” That was the truth again, and yet...

He sighed inwardly. This was hard enough, making a connection with another man--which he hadn’t even been aware of wanting to do until he’d met Emil’s eyes across the room--without the added complication of his lycanthropy. He knew that he would have to tell anyone he wanted to date, male or female, especially after the horrid reaction Lily had had to finding out that he’d kept it from her, but somehow he felt like he wanted to put off telling Emil just a little longer. At least until they weren’t in a crowd of Quidditch revelers who might hear what the reason for Emil’s bad reaction was--if he had a bad reaction. They were all keyed up and drunk, and while Remus was strong, he had a healthy fear of the mob mentality and didn’t want to know what this crowd was capable of if they suddenly learned that there was a werewolf in their midst, with the full moon due to rise within two hours....

“Oh,” Emil said, looking a little disappointed. “You, erm, doing anything tonight?”

“Yes,” Remus said reluctantly. “For the next three nights I’m booked. I’m free after that, though. Why don’t I owl you?”

Emil looked like he was unconvinced this would happen, like Remus was just letting him down easy. “Sure,” he said carelessly, running his fingers through his wavy dark hair. Remus felt a lump in his throat; he longed to reach out suddenly and do the same with his own hand, comb his fingers through the dark hair...

He took a bite of meat pie to quell the rebellious thoughts he was having; in two bites, it was gone, and he stood to go. “Sorry I have to run. At least he,” he said, nodding toward Bagman, “is good for something. I needed a drink and a meal, but I didn’t need to be broke afterward, you know?” He grinned at Emil and was gratified this time when he saw the dimples reappear, rather than terror-struck.

When the three nights in Ministry lock-up were over, Remus practically raced to the post office in Diagon Alley so he could send an owl to Emil. He’d put Weasley’s sister and the Prophecy out of his mind, forgetting everything but Emil. He’d never felt this way before, had never known he could have this kind of optimism welling up from inside him, making him positively giddy. It was almost like being drunk, and Remus couldn’t believe it when Emil Apparated to his parents’ house that evening after work, so that they could discuss plans to go out.

He’d introduced Emil to his parents as a friend from school, and they didn’t point out that he’d never, ever mentioned him once in seven years at Hogwarts. When Emil had been preparing to Disapparate to their destination (a wizarding pub in Brighton) Remus had to abruptly stop him. “No!” he said suddenly. “I, er, don’t have my license. I haven’t learned how. Is it on the Floo network?”

Luckily, it was, and they were able to use his parents’ fireplace to make their trip. When they arrived, dusty and sooty, Remus started to ask why they had to go to Brighton, but after his eyes became accustomed to the dim lighting in the establishment and he’d had a chance to look around properly, he knew the answer. At first glance one might think it was a wizarding pub like any other, but on a closer look, Remus saw that pairs of wizards (not mixed pairs of witches and wizards) were sitting together at the small tables, some of them holding hands and talking softly to each other, while more than one couple of witches or wizards at the bar had their arms draped casually around their partner’s shoulders. Many of the couples were not touching at all. Certainly no one was kissing or doing anything that could be considered unseemly for a public place. In fact, Remus thought the patrons of the pub were far more restrained than the men and women he’d seen at a number of wizarding pubs serving a clientele which felt less of a need to sneak around. Everyone present was very subdued, it seemed to him, as though they were highly conscious of possibly being observed.

“Where are the Ministry spies?” he whispered to Emil, making a joke. Emil frowned at him.

“What?”

“Well, everyone just looks like they expect that they’re being spied on.” He gestured to the well-behaved witches and wizards who were having soft conversations and sipping their drinks.

Emil smiled. “You’re good. Yeah, we rather assume that the Ministry’s sending spies periodically. They do, too.” Remus declined to tell him he hadn’t been serious; he tried not to look shocked that the Ministry was spying on these extremely non-threatening-looking witches and wizards.. “Officially, there are no laws against--anything like this. But there isn’t a lot of openness, either. There’s less of a stigma than there was, but--well, you know. And until recently, Muggles had laws that were pretty bad. They were still doing, erm, something to people with potions--”

Remus shook his head. “I know what you mean. Not potions, exactly. Well, that’s close. I’ve heard of it--chemical castration, it’s called.” He wished there was a potion he could take so that he wouldn’t become a werewolf every month...

“That’s it. I’ve heard of wizarding families doing the same. Holding down a bloke like me and forcing him to take this potion....And if the Ministry finds out, they turn a blind eye, say it’s a family matter.”

Remus glanced at him, concerned. “Are you worried about being seen here? For your job? Or worried about your parents finding out?”

Emil looked embarrassed. “Well--maybe a little of both. Let’s get a table in the back. We’ll have a nice dinner and talk.”

“All right,” Remus said nervously. “I--I don’t have much money, though. I’ll pay for myself. I’m not very hungry,” he lied. Emil put his hand on his arm.

“I’ve got a perfectly good job, and I was just paid. Dinner’s on me.”

Remus enjoyed dinner with Emil more than he thought possible. The waiter didn’t bat an eye when Emil reached across the table and took Remus’ hand. Remus let him, shivering at the feel of the other man’s finger tracing the lines on his palm....

They took the Floo network back to his house after dinner, and Remus discovered that his parents had gone up to bed. Remus turned to Emil nervously; he wasn’t sure he could actually do his now, even though he was very attracted to Emil and thought he was nice and funny and intelligent. And sexy. Oh, god, Remus thought. Don’t think about sex. He felt like kicking himself. Too late.

“I had a good time,” Emil said, his voice shaking. Remus looked up at him.

“Yeah. Me too.” Then he felt like he might have stopped breathing when Emil put his hand on his cheek and gazed into his eyes.

“What color are your eyes?” he asked in a soft voice. “sometimes I think they’re brown, or green, or amber, or all three; and then I think I see some red--”

To quiet him, Remus tilted his head up and kissed the other young man on the cheek, very lightly, feeling the stubble brush harshly against his lips like sandpaper. Emil turned his head suddenly and Remus felt his lips near the corner of his mouth, gone again before he could think.

“Well,” Emil said softly, as Remus pulled back reluctantly. “Good night.”

“Good--” Remus was still saying, when, with a soft pop! Emil had vanished.

They had started to see each other every two or three days; Remus had managed to get a job doing manual labor for a Muggle businessman in Manchester; he moved boxes in a warehouse, and as he was very strong, he found it to be easy work. He was paid by the box. The man was paying him on the sly, off the books. Remus didn’t care that it wasn’t legal; he didn’t have much choice. He didn’t technically exist in the Muggle world, but with a little more money, he could possibly contact one of the many wizard businesses that produced forged Muggle documents to allow a wizard to have an official identity as a citizen of Britain. It was starting to look like his prospects of getting a job in the wizarding world were very dim. His medical records, required for any job application, stated very clearly that he was a lycanthrope, and there were a number of people to whom he didn’t want to give this information, as he strongly suspected that they wouldn’t hire him if they knew about it. (And then they’d know his secret, on top of not having hired him.)

In the meantime, he took his pounds to Gringotts, converting the slips of paper into wizarding money and wincing at the exchange rate. He was actually able to treat Emil to a couple of dinners. They repeatedly returned to the Brighton pub, but Remus was starting to tire of the place, and after two weeks of seeing nothing with Emil but the inside of that establishment, he asked him whether they could just go for a walk in Brighton proper, get some fresh air.

They transfigured their robes so that they looked like Muggle overcoats and went to see Brighton Pavilion. Remus threw his head back, taking it all in.

“Pretty unbelievable, eh?” Emil said, putting his arm around his shoulder as they gazed at the huge dome, the curling minarets that mimicked a sultan’s palace. “You look cold,” he whispered. “Here,” he added, drawing out his wand and holding it to Remus’ chest, muttering a soft spell Remus couldn’t hear. Immediately, a warmth started to suffuse Remus’ body. Emil put his wand away and tightened his arm around Remus, who looked up at him nervously. It was after dark and very few people were around, as it was late November. A cold wind swept in off the sea, but Remus wanted to go down to the ocean and really see what it was like. He’d only been to the seaside once, on that cold winter’s day when James had scattered his parents’ ashes at Penarth Promenade, in Wales. He wasn’t sure whether to admit this to Emil and seem hopelessly provincial.

The warmth stayed with him as they walked on the hard-packed sand, their arms around each other, the smell of the salt water in the air filling Remus’ nostrils in a way nothing ever had before; he felt like he was in the sea, surrounded by it. Not all of the smells were good; there was seaweed and rotting fish and old shellfish and waterlogged wood. But the way it all combined with the salt water and the neutral smell of the sand, all that sand, created a picture in Remus’ mind of the sea which he would never forget. No matter how many times he went to the seaside for the rest of his life, he would remember the impression he had of it that evening, and a cold November night in Brighton would be what the seaside was for him.

Emil stopped suddenly and looked down at him; there was no moon tonight, or rather, it was the new moon. Remus felt calmer and more collected at this time of month than at any other. He thought the stars shone more brightly with no competition, and he pointed out the evening star to Emil, pulsing brightly in the eastern sky.

“That’s actually Venus,” Emil said, his face very close to Remus’, and then Remus didn’t know anything else but the thrill of finally running his hands through Emil’s hair, holding his head in place by lacing his fingers through those wonderfully soft curls while they kissed properly for the first time, after weeks of tentatively coming very, very close--but never quite making it.

Emil pulled back and looked down at Remus, who found it odd to not need to attack the other man. He wanted him, it was true--but during the new moon, it didn’t feel like a desperation had taken hold of him. He remembered that Lily had once kissed him during the new moon, in a castle corridor. He’d been surprised by her suddenly doing that; he’d laced his hands into her hair and pulled her against him, but a minute later, he’d thrust her away. For a heavenly minute, it had been bliss; kissing the girl he loved without feeling insane and out of control. But then he knew that he had to use the self-control he had at that time of month and push her away, since he couldn’t really be with her....

Remus smiled up at Emil. Can I be with anyone? he wondered. Should I be doing this at all? He’ll find out and he’ll dump me. I can’t do this to him--

“Everything all right?” Emil asked, putting his hand on his shoulder. “I mean, I kiss you, and then you get this look--”

“Yeah,” Remus said quickly. “Could we--um--could--”

Emil smiled and leaned down again, and Remus groaned in the back of his throat, sliding his fingers into that hair once more.

Everything was fine until two days before the next full moon. Remus wasn’t quite in the grip of his mania yet, but he certainly felt like he had less control than during the new moon. He was also feeling incredibly frustrated because he wanted Emil dreadfully, but he was afraid; this was new and different for him, and he thought it possible that Emil had never done this before, either. It was definitely a case of the blind leading the blind. They’d kissed some more since that first time, and touched each other tentatively, through their clothes (they were always on the sand at Brighton, standing up, so there wasn’t much more they could do). But at night, Remus was tossing and turning, thinking about Emil, wondering what his body was like....

Remus had been going mad, so even though it was two days before the full moon, he went to the werewolf pub again and found it surprisingly busy with other werewolves who were already starting to feel a bit restless, like him. Across the room, he saw a man with dark, soulful eyes and curling dark brown hair. Remus was struck by how much he looked like Emil. The young man was looking right back at Remus, and finally, he rose and crossed the room, standing in front of Remus.

“I’m Joe. Want to go upstairs?” he said simply. Remus could see now that the young man wasn’t so young; up close, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were visible, and the characteristic grey lock of hair at his widow’s peak was joined by other grey hairs laced into his dark waves at intervals. But he had high cheekbones like Emil, and eyes like Emil, and Remus nodded and followed him up the stairs, unsure whether the other man would be angry if he changed his mind.

That night, when he laid in bed remembering the other man, he thought, Huh. So that’s how it works. A part of him wished he hadn’t done it, because after the fact, he felt that he’d cheated on Emil. Yet a part of him felt like it was research--he understood the mechanics now, and what felt good for his partner and other technical concerns. But doing it with a stranger--he’d felt so empty afterward, wishing he’d waited for Emil. Technically, he wasn’t a virgin, hadn’t been since he’d first slept with Lily in his fifth year. But in a way he was as inexperienced as any fifteen year old, at least when it came to being with another man.

The next morning, he’d owled Emil to tell him that he was going away for four days. All the next day, he locked himself up in his room, determined not to weaken and go to the werewolf pub again. He put himself in the Ministry lock-up for the full moon again, and when it was over, he sent Emil another owl, saying he was back and needed to see him.

They’d been seeing each other for a month. So, Remus thought. My first real relationship will have lasted for a month. He was meeting Emil for lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, in a back room where they wouldn’t be seen. Emil looked disturbed when he entered.

“What is it?” he asked immediately. He saw the look on Remus’ face and sat, groaning. “Oh, god. You’re breaking up with me...”

Remus drew his mouth into a line. “Well--not as such. I’ve got something to tell you, and then you’re probably going to break up with me....”

Emil frowned at him. “What have you got to tell me? Why would it make me break up with you?”

Remus swallowed. “I--I slept with someone else. Four nights ago. Oh, god, I feel so awful. I--I was going mad. And he looked like you, a bit. Older. But he--he was experienced. Knew what he was doing. I’ve been so worried about--about being with you for the first time. I don’t know anything. Or I didn’t, anyway. It was the stupidest thing I could have done because now you probably hate me and--”

To his surprise, Emil strode to him and pulled his body against his, lifting his head up to kiss him hungrily. Remus had wanted to tell him about the lycanthropy, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it. He’s going to break up with me for this anyway, he thought; why tell him something I don’t want the world at large to know just when we’re breaking up?

When Emil broke the kiss, Remus looked at him in amazement. “So, erm, you’re not angry? I--I thought you’d be--”

Emil nodded. “I know, I know. I--thought I would be too. But I--I don’t want to break up with you. You sound like you think you made a mistake.”

“A huge mistake. I felt so awful inside afterward, so empty, and I’d understand if you--”

Emil laughed. “Shut up. I told you. I don’t want to break up with you.” He looked into Remus’ eyes and took his hands. “What I want is--to find out what you learned. First hand,” he added with a whisper that sent shivers up Remus’ spine.

“Well,” Remus began, “there were some things that weren’t really surprises--”

“You prat! I don’t mean I want a lecture,” he laughed again. “I mean--you know.”

Remus felt like he’d been a complete dunce. “Oh, of course! A--a practical--”

“--hands on lesson,” Emil finished, sliding his arms around Remus’ waist and lowering his mouth to his. Remus was unprepared for his passion; the two of them had been so tentative with each other previously. Remus had never experienced anything like this before; he hadn’t let himself be completely unfettered with the man at the pub, since he was a stranger (they hadn’t even completely disrobed), and he had pretended with Lily that he didn’t love her. He wanted to be completely open with Emil, both physically and emotionally. And--he wanted to tell him his ultimate secret before anything went any further.

He tried to pull back from Emil, but his arms were around him too strongly. That’s good, thought Remus, if he’s strong there’s less of a chance I can hurt him. He put his hands on Emil’s arms as they continued to kiss, feeling the tight, medium-sized muscles there, getting more excited when he thought he would about touching him without clothes in the way. Finally, Emil pulled back a little and Remus did too, looking down at Emil’s collarbone, feeling the taller man kiss him on the forehead. He looked up into his eyes.

“There are two other things I need to tell you before this goes any further,” he whispered. “First--I love you. I want to be with you because I love you. Being with that other man felt so empty because I didn’t have any feelings for him. I want it to be different with you. But--but I have to admit, there was one thing he knew about me that you don’t, something you should know before this goes any further.”

He pulled back from Emil and sat down, looking at his hands. “When--when I was quite small--I--I was bitten--”

Emil sat and leaned over the table and took his hands. “Yes?”

Remus looked up into his eyes. “I was bitten by a werewolf.”

He waited for the realization to wash over Emil, the implications of what he’d said. Remus saw the expression on his face change, felt him pull his hands back and gape at Remus. “That means--that means--”

Remus nodded. “That’s why I don’t Apparate. And why I have trouble getting work. And--and that’s why I went to a werewolf pub I know of four nights ago and--and slept with another werewolf. A month ago, just before I met up with you at the Leaky Cauldron, I’d also gone there, and slept with a woman. A she-wolf. When--when werewolves are expecting the full moon, just before, they get--they get so they’ll shag anyone, anything. You name it. Men, women--it doesn’t matter who they’re normally attracted to the rest of the month. Anything goes at that time.”

Remus looked at Emil, to see what his reaction was to this. He looked slightly aroused, but also oddly relieved.

“Ah. That explains it.”

“Explains what?”

“Why you slept with a woman.”

Remus frowned. “Actually--I first slept with a girl when I was fifteen. I always thought I liked girls--women. I was only attracted to men when the full moon was approaching--or so I thought. There were some times I noticed boys when it wasn’t that time of month, but I think until I met you I was in denial about that, thought it was just the werewolf thing. Since I’ve started seeing you, I think I’ve worked out who I am a bit better.”

Emil looked disappointed. “Oh. I--I didn’t know you--you liked girls, too...”

Remus sat forward, taking Emil’s hands. “Is that a problem? Because I prefer to think of it as--as wanting to be with a particular person. And the person I want to be with is you.”

Emil lifted his head and surveyed Remus carefully. “I don’t know. I feel like--like maybe I should just cut my losses now, avoid getting hurt in future. I mean, any bloke who likes men and women will ultimately give up men when he wants to settle down. With a woman. Or he’ll keep the other blokes on the side after he’s married. I don’t want to live like that. I want--”

“I want you,” Remus whispered adamantly to him. “In the here and now. And I don’t know that werewolves do settle down. I was in love with a girl I could never tell, because I thought I was a monster. Then I found the werewolf pub, and discovered that we could turn to our own kind just before the full moon, to calm our longings. But it didn’t fill a different need in me--a need to be close like that with someone I actually have feelings for. I loved her, when I slept with her before the full moon, even though I couldn’t tell her. And it made a difference. It made all the difference. I’ve only been with people at that pub twice, and I’m already dissatisfied and grumpy about it. That’s not how it should be. It’s just not.” He squeezed Emil’s hand. “I want to be with someone I love. The person I love. That would be you.”

Emil looked up at him. “You’re a werewolf. You’re really a werewolf.”

Remus nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

Emil sat back now and smirked ever so slightly. “God. That explains why you’re so strong, doesn’t it? And the red lights in your eyes. And--”

Remus rolled his eyes. “--and why I can sometimes eat like there’s no tomorrow. I know, James used to tease me--”

“No,” Emil replied, sounding breathless now. “Why--why I find you so damn sexy.”

Remus stopped dead at that. He had no words. But it wasn’t necessary. Emil led him to the fireplace and they went to his house. (“My parents went out.”) It was so strange, to be alone with him, in a house, to walk up the stairs behind him, to enter his bedroom...

He laid in his arms afterward, inhaling his scent, memorizing him. He was worried about a couple of bruises he’d given Emil, but all in all he was in much better shape than Lily had been after their first time. Emil furrowed his brow and gazed lovingly at him.

“What are you thinking?”

Remus smiled at him and answered honestly. “That you came through your first experience with me a lot better than Lily did.”

Emil sat up then, looking jarred. “Lily? As in Lily Evans? She was the girl you were in love with? Isn’t she going to be marrying one of your best friends?”

Remus swallowed; a sick feeling had crept into his stomach. “Well, yes. But believe me, there’s absolutely nothing--”

Emil rose from the bed and began pacing, running his hands through his hair. He wasn’t wearing anything and Remus was finding it very difficult not to be distracted by him. “But she’s someone you still see, isn’t she? How do I know that you--”

Remus stood and wrapped his arms securely around him. “Because I’m telling you, that’s how. You, Emil Gaillard, are the person I love. The person I want to go to bed with and wake up with. The person I want to talk about my day with over dinner. The person. I’ve told you before. When will you believe me?”

They were standing, holding each other tightly, neither of them wearing a stitch, and the contact was starting to distract Remus more than the mere sight of Emil had done. Emil looked at him wistfully. “The person,” he repeated, looking like he was forcing himself to believe, but he didn’t, not really.

“Come back to bed,” Remus said to him holding him tighter for a moment, making Emil groan and roll his head on his shoulders; Remus smiled, feeling his power. Suddenly he decided to surprise Emil. He scooped him up and carried him back to the bed. Emil looked shocked, and when he was deposited on the mattress again, he put his arms around Remus’ neck and pulled him down in a hungry kiss.

“That was dead sexy,” Emil breathed against his mouth. “How’d you do that?”

“Werewolf strength,” Remus mumbled against his neck, as he began working his way down Emil’s body again....

Later, when they were again lying together, sated and exhausted, Emil looked down at him and smiled. “All right. I’ll be your person if you’ll be my wolf.”

Remus smiled back at him and put his hand on his cheek. “Done.”

The End

~ ~ ~ ~ ~