Chasing Rainbows

Chasing Rainbows

By Minnow

Out Of The Blue

'Have you ever wondered,' Sirius asks, 'what it would be like doing it with another guy?'

Remus can't believe his ears for a moment, and pinches himself to check he's awake, which he is. He and Sirius are sitting by the lake in the sunshine, enjoying a free period, because the Divination teacher was called away unexpectedly to care for her sick mother.

He can see a tentacle of the Giant Squid; he can see a swan; he can see nobody and nothing else for miles around, except blue water and blue sky and Sirius Black and him.

'Well?' Sirius asks. He's ripping up handfuls of grass, and uprooting the tiny sapphire-coloured flowers that grow like weeds by the water. Come to think of it, they probably are weeds.

Has he ever wondered? No, Remus hasn't wondered, as such. He has, though, imagined it in glorious 3D, and not with just any other guy, but with Sirius. Because Sirius is beautiful, and he loves him in ways that are sick and perverted but very, very pleasurable.

Sirius is the first person he thinks about in the morning and the last person he thinks about at night. Sirius is the one with whom he holds long, imaginary conversations in his head. They aren't always imaginary, of course: he also talks to Sirius a lot in real life, and they have real conversations. Like this one.

'Moony?' Sirius's voice is a bit hesitant, as if Remus has waited so long to answer that Sirius is worried he might have offended him. 'I'm not accusing you of anything, you understand. I just wanted to know if you ever thought about it.'

'Mmm. Sometimes,' Remus replies, guarded. It's fine for Sirius to ask that sort of question, because Sirius has shagged at least three girls, excellent going for a sixteen year-old at a mixed but strict boarding school. Mind you, so far he's only shagged girls in the holidays, and none of them went to Hogwarts.

He's described it as 'very slippery' when Peter and James pressed for details. Remus doesn't think that sounds erotic at all.

Sirius actually has a girlfriend at the moment, Cara, a blonde Gryffindor with pale blue eyes, who wears a different coloured hair ornament every day. Remus thinks privately that she's got a nasty, squeaky voice, like a breathless little mouse.

Remus hasn't ever shagged a girl. He does fancy girls, actually. It's just that his feelings for Sirius are rather more overwhelming. He can't imagine that any girl could make him feel the way Sirius does; emotionally, of course.

He may not be Sirius's best friend, but Sirius is his. Sirius is the person who promised him the moon, and delivered it, in the form of a stag, a rat, and a very beloved dog. How could he not love him? Though he does realise that perhaps it's not normal to love your best mate so much that you want to do lots of physical things with him. Things you should only want to do to girls.

Sometimes, to placate his conscience, he imagines he's doing it with Sirius as a girl, but that's one fantasy he prefers to tuck away and bring out when he's on his own.

'It's weird, but when you're around...' Sirius hesitates this time, and Remus asks himself why he isn't having this conversation with James.

The afternoon sun beats down and Sirius leans across and presses his lips very gently against Remus's, just for a second.

'Like that,' he says.

For a moment, the world stands still. Remus looks at his friend, aghast. Sirius is joking, of course. Well, Sirius wouldn't know it isn't a joke to him. Sirius wouldn't know that his heart is now pounding, and he's sweating more than the June heat warrants, and Sirius mustn't know, either. Remus forces a laugh, and the conversation ends abruptly, because James and Peter are running down to join them.

He wants to ask 'What about Cara?' but he doesn't.

Seeing Red

Sirius asks him again, a week later.

They're in the library, in the busy Charms section, and their whispered conversation is constantly interrupted by earnest young witches brushing up on their beautifying charms. The witches are excited about the latest dark red lipstick. Everywhere Remus looks, there are pretty young girls with crimson mouths and too much blusher on their cheeks. Remus would suggest that he and Sirius move to History of Magic, but he really doesn't want Sirius to get carried away again.

Remus practises answers in his head. 'Why do you keep asking me? D'you think I'm some sort of queer who likes other guys?' Remus isn't sure of the terminology. He certainly wouldn't want Sirius to see him as a rent boy who you'd use to practise on or something.

He doesn't say any of that aloud, but he does ask, 'Why me?'

Perhaps the way he feels insulted shows in his voice, because Sirius soothes, 'Oh, I'm not implying...I just thought it would be interesting. I've done it with girls. Why not boys? Why not you, y'know?'

Remus can't think of a single reason. Why not, indeed? He really, really loves Sirius and would love to sleep with him. He won't even care if Sirius is just experimenting and will move on to the next girl, or the next boy, soon enough.

Sirius doesn't kiss him, or rather, graze his lips, this time. But he shifts his chair a bit so their legs are touching, and opens his book at a page that shows a couple lying together on a bed, to demonstrate a binding charm. Remus goes scarlet, but manages to force a smile.

Sirius says in quite a loud voice, 'It really turns me on when you get close to me.'

The witches drop their books and turn to stare at Sirius, assuming that he's talking to one of them. He must be, because the only other person there is Sirius's friend, Remus Lupin.

Remus is bright vermillion now. 'Shut up, Padfoot,' he hisses.

Sirius laughs. 'Oh, so you thought I meant you, did you?' He relents and says, 'I did, actually.'

The witches don't hear that part, because he whispers it right into Remus's ear, and makes pleasurable shivers run down his spine, not to mention other parts of him.

Cara, Sirius's blonde girlfriend, is one of the group looking up beautifying charms. Today, she's wearing a tomato-red hair-ribbon. She passes a note across to Sirius, who makes a huge deal of unrolling the parchment, reading it, raising his eyebrows in a very exaggerated manner, and then telling her, 'Oh, I'm sorry. I have extra Quidditch on Wednesday evenings.'

At this point, the librarian arrives to throw Sirius out, and Remus follows him resignedly, hoisting his bag over his shoulder. As they walk past the rows of students watching them with interest - Sirius Black is always being thrown out of the library - he flings his arm round Remus's shoulders and squeezes.

When they're away from the curious eyes, Remus grits his teeth and snarls, 'Never, ever do that again, Sirius,' and the subject is closed.

Though this time he does say, 'What about Cara?' and Sirius shrugs and says enigmatically, 'I haven't shagged her, you know.' Remus isn't sure whether this is a good or a bad thing.

All Yellow

The next time, they're up in the dorm. It's Remus's fault, oddly, because he went a bit mad before the moon and suggested that he and Sirius could somehow disable the Hufflepuff password. Not that he has anything against Hufflepuffs, but the Slytherins are too wary now, expecting attack at any moment and therefore well prepared.

A hundred Hufflepuffs stood sobbing outside the bright yellow door of their tower, and Remus and Sirius were apprehended and tortured. Well, they have been stopped from visiting Hogsmeade again that term, and half of the next, which is also the start of Seventh Year.

When James, exasperated, demanded why on earth they'd picked on the helpless, innocent Hufflepuffs, all Remus could do was shrug and say 'Because they're there,' which reminds him uncomfortably of the conversations he's been having with Sirius recently.

And of course, Sirius starts in as soon as Peter and James have clattered down the stairs.

'You know we were talking about sleeping together?'

Remus isn't aware they'd progressed to specifics, but he shrugs and nods anyway.

'Well, now seems a good time, doesn't it? The dorm's free, and we've got all day. How about we have it off, eh?'

Remus looks up at the beautiful face he adores so much, and his body tells him yes, that would be a great idea.

His rational side disagrees. 'Padfoot. What's wrong with you? Why are you going on about it?'

Sirius looks decidedly shifty. 'You keep looking at me. Didn't you realise? I thought that you might actually fancy trying it. Come on, we discussed it.'

'We didn't...'

But Remus doesn't get any further, because he's suddenly got eleven stone of Sirius on top of him, on his bed, and he's flailing with his arms, trying to dislodge him before it becomes obvious that he's happy to try the experiment.

All the same, he protests and says, 'No! Get off.'

Which Sirius does, brushing his hair back and suddenly becoming very matter-of-fact. He's a lot more experienced, and he's going to let Remus have the benefit of that experience, or that is how Remus assumes he sees it.

'C'mon, Moony. I've been reading all about it, and I know exactly what to do. Trust me. Look, why don't you just let me kiss you, at least? See how you like that?'

Remus knows exactly how he'll like it, because he's loving Sirius's weight on him too much already. They kiss properly this time, with tongues, and it feels like the all the warm and shiny things on earth, and tastes like quince jelly and vanilla ice cream.

Sunshine pours in through a gap in the curtains, dappling yellow on the bedclothes. Sirius produces a jar of slightly opaque, pale oily stuff, the colour of buttercups.

If girls are slippery, boys are sticky, and uncomfortable.

'It'll get better,' says Sirius, knowledgably. He enjoyed it, anyway. 'Next time.'

'How d'you know there'll be a next time?' Remus fumes. He decides not to ask about Cara again: it doesn't seem quite the moment.

Green Is For Go

For a few days after that, Sirius acts as if he and Remus are nothing more than friends. Remus is not going to get upset about that. He's not going to feel bitter, because Sirius tricked him into doing something just so he, Sirius, could find out what it was like. He's not going to feel suddenly desolate, when Sirius starts talking to Cara at breakfast.

She's wearing a green hairband today. Remus thinks sourly that she looks like a Slytherin. Like an ugly, horrible Slytherin, who probably tortures that pet toad sitting on her shoulder with a leering expression on its face. Remus wants to Transfigure it into an unripe greengage and stuff it down her throat. No, Sirius's throat.

He doesn't want to think about Sirius's throat, or mouth, or any part of his anatomy. He hates Sirius Black, and he hates that hideous girl.

In Herbology, they're learning about Muggle flowers, lilies especially, with their waxen white flowers and deep green stems and leaves. At the mention of the word 'Lily' James immediately starts throwing deep, meaningful looks at Evans. Sirius, who always partners James, rolls his eyes, and starts messing about with his notes.

A piece of parchment unfurls from one of the tightly curled leaves on Remus's arum lily. He's tempted to rip it up without reading it, but relents when he sees that Sirius is looking a bit anxious, if that were possible, and ignoring the attractive Ravenclaw who's doing her best to invade his personal space.

'Moony, are you mad with me for some reason? Wait for me after the lesson. I have something to show you.'

Remus is not going to think lewd thoughts about what that something could be. He's not going to half-close his eyes and be back in the dorm, with Sirius licking his neck and making him feel helpless with lust.

But he waits for Sirius all the same. Sirius lets the others go out, then takes a lily from its pot, rather roughly, waves his wand and hands Remus a dark green balloon.

Remus probably looks as puzzled as he feels, because Sirius's face falls. 'Don't you like it? I specially asked the head of Muggle Studies about it. It's one of those things you told me you had when you were little. Before the wolf bit you. Remember?'

'They used to give us balloons at the shoeshop, when we got new shoes,' Remus recalls. He doesn't quite know what to make of it. 'The main thing was popping them, though. They gave a big bang.'

'Like this?' Sirius waves his wand and the balloon explodes, becoming a lily again as it does so, and scattering messy petals and leaves everywhere.

'Not quite,' Remus says weakly, but Sirius already has his arms round him and is kissing him and mumbling 'Please, please, Moony,' and leading him in the direction of the woods at the fringe of the grounds, which are quiet and churchlike and strictly out of bounds. This time, it's much, much better, but still very sticky. There's a wood pigeon cooing in the distance somewhere far away.

Orange Zest

'The thing is,' Sirius says, 'I do like Cara a lot, but I don't want complications with girls at school. Anyway, I keep thinking about you too.'

'Thinking of me how?' Remus asks.

'Well. Physically. You know, I really like the way you look. Even if you haven't got plaits today.'

Remus hopes the reference to Cara isn't ironic. She's wearing glittery gold scrunchies to keep her braids in place. She looks nice, actually, and Remus is quite flattered to be compared favourably with her, which is another strange sensation. Except that he doesn't have long, dangly citrine earrings. Certainly, Sirius has been with him more over the past few days than he has with her. But then, Sirius always does put his friends first.

Remus feels a bit shaky and giggly at suppertime. Like a girl, he thinks rather dismayed, but he can't help it. Light-headed is probably the expression. Sirius looks...serious. There's no other word for it.

Supper is goulash: the house-elves have overdone the paprika a fraction, as always. The bright orange gravy slops over the side of Remus's plate, on to the starched white tablecloth.

'Messy,' Sirius scolds. He's obviously tired, Remus thinks. But he's still managing to flirt with one of Lily Evans's friends, who's had her eye on him for ages. She's wearing Muggle clothes under her robes, an apricot-coloured teeshirt a very short suede skirt. Remus can see her long, long legs stretching under the table. Her tights are an unattractive shade that he knows is called American Tan, because his mother wears them.

She isn't as pretty as Cara. Remus decides that if Sirius had to choose between the two girls, he'd probably pick Cara. He refuses to worry about her, anyway.

He pours himself a glass of pumpkin juice, relieved that his hand is staying steady. He doesn't want to spill anything else on the cloth. He wishes he knew what Sirius really wanted. One minute he's all care and concern, as if he understood how Remus felt and might even feel the same; the next he's gawping at girls and talking to James and Peter about getting off with them.

Up in the common room, the lamps with their amber shades are being lit, and the light is sweet and mellow. Sirius and James are writing Ancient Runes essays at the table, but Remus relaxes on the sofa with a book. He's finished his homework, and now he can read his detective novel with a clear conscience. The author specialises in exotic descriptions of the Muggle world, which Remus normally likes, especially the fast cars.

Only, he finds it very hard to concentrate, though the plot is quite exciting: wine is flowing, women are undressing, and two more bodies have been found. The word 'bodies' make Remus think of the things he's been doing with Sirius, and he drifts off into a happy little golden daydream about making love that afternoon. He wonders when it stops just being shagging, if it ever was.

In The Purple

It's three in the morning, and Remus is wide awake.

He's finally abandoned any attempts at sleeping, and is sitting on the window seat, gazing out at the deep violet sky. The dorm is mysterious by night, the beds dark, the curtains open, the boys breathing quietly and evenly.

He wonders what Sirius is dreaming about. Gorgeous girls in flowing lilac robes, girls with eyes the colour of pansies, like the heroine of his book about Muggle detective John Smith-Jones. He wishes Sirius would dream about him; it's only in the dead of night that he'll admit it. Okay, he loves Sirius, and now he's managed to get caught in some sort of weird spiral where he and Sirius are shagging, but Sirius is still dating Cara, though he knows they haven't been further than holding hands, or so Sirius assures him.

He and Sirius have done it five times now, and every time it gets better and better. Sirius only has to touch him and he'll let him do anything he wants. He knows Sirius is liking it too.

Sirius has said that it's as good as being with a girl. 'It's different, but it's just as exciting,' he's admitted, looking directly at Remus, not embarrassed, not avoiding his eyes. Surely he wouldn't be so candid if he felt the way Remus feels about him? He even clarifies. 'I get a bit bored with Cara, actually. Sometimes I'd really rather be with you.' So what does he actually want, then?

It's all about sex, to Sirius. Remus is positive that his friend, pureblood scion of an old family, will someday allow himself to be married off to some heiress or other, chosen for her ability to keep the line going. He'll sleep with her and have children. Maybe he'll think of Remus when he sleeps with her, though. Remus perks up at the thought.

'Moony?'

Shit. He turns round abruptly, as if he'd been caught out doing something he shouldn't.

Sirius is especially beautiful in the dim light of the incipient dawn, with the sky beginning to brighten to amethyst. His eyes gleam wickedly. 'Moony, why don't come back to my bed for a while? Seeing as you're awake?'

Remus would really, really like to answer, 'No, Sirius. I have no wish to go anywhere near your bed,' but he doesn't. Besides, he's shaking with cold as well as the beginnings of desire, so he obediently follows Sirius into his bed, where they cling together kissing. The kissing is good, even though it isn't the best part.

Sirius's skin looks and feels like velvet this morning, Remus thinks. He closes his eyes and imagines that the deep purple vista behind his eyelids is Sirius, and he is swathed in him; and Sirius is wrapped round him in real life too, so it isn't a fantasy at all.

Indigo Plateau

'Have you ever wondered,' Sirius begins, then stops abruptly, self-conscious for a change. He lowers his voice and looks around, though there's nobody within earshot.

Remus doesn't really want to be counting how many times Sirius has asked him that recently, but he thinks it must be quite a few by now.

They're being very bad indeed, and if they get caught Remus will lose his prefect's badge and Sirius will get detentions from here to the end of his time at Hogwarts. They're in the Nag's Head, drinking some strange concoction from glasses that Remus is wishing he hadn't actually put his lips to. 'You might as well,' Sirius said, though, 'because I'm going to, and then I'll lick you all over, and then you'll get the germs anyway, so why not just go for the glass in the first place?'

The barman assured them it's the purest of blueberry juice, but it has a slightly sickly tinge, like dirty old navy-blue socks. 'Probably put a dollop of meths in there,' says Sirius, who has completed his Muggle Studies module on alcoholism in non-wizarding Britain.

They've changed out of their school robes so that nobody will know they're from Hogwarts, and they're both wearing t-shirts - one of them is James's and he'll kill Sirius if he finds out - and faded jeans. Sirius can quote reams about indigo dyes, because they're romantic, and come from exotic plants or murex shells in the depths of the sea, and are carried from far-off lands in great ships.

'Muggles have such a wonderful time,' Sirius says wistfully.

'My Dad doesn't,' Remus says.

'No, but your Dad is a bit weird, Moony.'

'My Dad,' Remus says solemnly, 'is always talking about growing up during the war, and how sweets were rationed. Like it was something so bloody special. He has to be the most boring person in the world.'

'No, Moony. Binns is.'

'Binns isn't really a person, though, is he?' It's nearly the moon again, and Remus is feeling belligerent, which is why Sirius had no difficulty persuading him to break a number of school rules that afternoon. In fact, it's Binns's class they're missing.

'Have you ever wondered,' Sirius starts again.

'Wondered what?' Remus says. 'We did it already.'

'We've done it a lot,' says Sirius with some pride. 'No, I was going to ask, have you ever wondered what it would be like to be in love with another guy?'

'Frequently,' Remus assures him, which is a lie, because he's known for ages.

'That's okay then. By the way,' he adds casually, 'I split up with Cara. It wasn't fair on her. I just don't feel the way about her that I do about you.'

Remus's heart is beating very, very fast suddenly, and he's finding it hard to breathe. He contemplates his glass again. It really is extremely dirty, and he doesn't want to die of an incurable magic virus just now, because Sirius Black, whom he loves with all his soul, is about to make some sort of declaration.

What's worse, he can actually see the ghost of a lipstick mark on it, the blurred imprint of some witch's mouth faded to a very faint cobalt, and probably as dangerous. Ugh. He gently tips the glass over.

'Merlin, Moony, you're so clumsy, always spilling things,' Sirius scolds.

The table is scarred and filthy, but the drink is viscous with some unidentified substance. It spreads over the surface, and Remus says, 'Look, a rainbow.'

'A very grubby one,' says Sirius. 'Shall we go? I really, really want to kiss you. Oh, and tell you some things. Don't let me forget.'

Sirius's lips are slightly stained by the juice, Remus notices, the colour of bruised plums. On Sirius, it looks good.

They walk into the sunny afternoon.

End