freshflowers

freshflowers-and-fadeingscars  asked:

Ok I feel like Remus would love musicals especially ones adapted from books. And I feel like him and Sirius are looking around a music shop and Remus finds the Jekyll and Hyde (I know it didn't exist yet but let's pretend) musical album and the both just kind of stop... and yeah that's as far as I've thought Robert cucciolis transformation facad and the second part of his version of confrontation are the best for Remus but the rest original album could be fun to work with i.e. Bring on the men.

The Okay to be honest I know very little about musicals so I read the wiki about this lol @freshflowers-and-fadeingscars. It’s also my personal headcanon that Remus’ mum, who is supposed to be a muggle (but honestly how could she have stayed home and cared for her lycanthropic child without magic) but I think of her as a muggle-born, which is why Remus is much more knowledgeable about muggle culture than James or Sirius.

Summer 1978, Remus & Sirius have a flatshare with one bed

“Why would we even listen to this?” Sirius griped as he slung his black leather jacket over a kitchen chair. He slunk onto their old tatty couch with a groan, hooking a leg over the back of it. “It’s not like we’ve seen the music thing or whatever.”

Remus looked away, embarrassed at his own thoughts. “Musical,” he corrected automatically. “They’re really quite entertaining.” 

“Don’t sound like it,” Sirius said offhand. Remus knew he was only being gruff to cover his embarrassment. Sirius often got self-conscious when something he should have known or experienced growing up was pointed out. His family was shite, and Remus was glad that he no longer had contact with them, even if Sirius was deeply hurt about Reggie’s absence. 

“Well,” he said carefully. “If you listen to all the songs in order, it’s almost like you can see it in your mind. You just have to listen to it all at once.”

“There’s two records in there, front and back,” Sirius pointed out. “That’ll take at least two hours.”

“I’m sure we have so much to do,” Remus said with a small smile. “I’m being rejected from every wizarding job I’ve applied to, and the bookstore doesn’t open until tomorrow morning.”

“Remus, stop,” and Sirius swung his legs off the couch to sit up, arms on his knees as he looked contrite. “I’m sorry. Don’t be upset.”

“I’m not upset,” Remus said, his tone clearly betraying otherwise.

In a blink, the big black dog the size of a small bear was on their couch. It barked once, and Remus hushed it hurriedly. “We’re not allowed to have animals in here!” he chastised Padfoot. “So change back!”

Padfoot barked again, and Remus hurried over, intending to grab his muzzle shut. His hand was met with a long pink tongue, and with two heavy forepaws, the dog reared up on his shoulders and began licking his face with gusto.

Remus couldn’t help it: he laughed. “Stop!” he complained. “Gross! Stop!”

It was only when Padfoot had pinned him to the floor, wriggling happily in his arms as Remus giggled helplessly that Sirius abruptly changed back, his weight driving the breath from Remus’ lungs as he grinned down at him, laying heavily on top of him. 

The tiniest bit of oxygen left in Remus’ body was quickly driven out with a quick rush; he noted abstractedly that Sirius’ pupils were dilated widely. 

“Get…off…” wheezed Remus in a tiny voice, hoping his face was hot from lack of blood and not a rush of it. He didn’t want Sirius to feel - He gulped air gratefully as Sirius rolled onto his back on the floor. 

“All right, all right,” he said panting like the dog he had been. “We can play the stupid musicloll.”

“Musical,” Remus said again, exasperated. But he got up and put on the first record with gentle, long pianist fingers. The upright piano in the corner had been easy to salvage from the side of the road. He and Sirius had pounced upon it, furtively shrunk it down, and put it in Sirius’ coat pocket before bringing it home for Remus to play on. Sirius loved to listen to Remus play, and although Remus had at first been self-concious about the audience, Sirius had been so genuinely interested he had persevered. It was one of their favorite pastimes; Sirius laying on the couch, eyes squeezed shut, Remus bending his head, sometimes composing abstractedly, trying to find the perfect tune to explain to Sirius how important he was. How special. How lov-

The first song began, and Remus scurried back to the couch to sit next to Sirius. Sirius always did the thing Remus loved so much but didn’t want to comment on in case Sirius stopped: as Remus sat down, Sirius picked up his legs and pulled them over his lap so that Remus was leaning against one of the arms of the couch while Sirius scooted to the other end and wedged his feet underneath Remus’ hip. 

At first Sirius only listened with his eyes closed, but when “Façade” came on, he opened his eyes and made eye contact with Remus.

“Well they‘ve got it right, don’t you think?” Remus asked lightly, and to his surprise, Sirius squeezed his ankle affectionately.

When the chorus after “Façade” sang “Bitch, Bitch, Bitch!” Sirius laughed so hard he choked and then joined in, each time tickling Remus with a stiff poke to his ribs until he was laughing too.

The three songs in a row, “No One Knows Who I Am,” "Bring On the Men,” and “Here’s to the Night” made both Remus and Sirius sit up and Sirius, dramatically holding out his hand, made Remus dance to the last one. 

“Prostitutes!” he sang. “Remus, we’re prostitutes!”

“Well you’ve always been kind of a whore,” Remus replied, straight-faced, and Remus dropped him on the dip.

“Hey!” 

“This is fun,” Sirius said as the next track began slowly, and he pulled Remus up one-handed.

“I told you. The real musicals are even better. Everything is incredible. I’m sure the magical ones on East Open are even better than the muggle ones.”

“You would think this sort of thing would be high society enough for even my parents,” Sirius said, unusually candid as they settled back on the couch. “But my mother hates…hated crowds. And Father…well he wasn’t much for art or frivolity.”

It was Remus’ turn to squeeze Sirius, but this time it was his forearm.

“Now There Is No Choice” elicited the comment: “I wonder if that’s how Reggie felt.” It was said dully, flatly. It was the first time he had mentioned his brother in months. 

“There’s alway s a choice,” Remus said, a little bleakly.

Sirius turned his face to him, eyes begging. “Is that really true though? After all we’ve seen? How much choice was there to be from a pureblood family, in Slytherin, with all the recruiting going on from day one. From all his friends joining the movement. Of me running away. I basically took that choice from him. He would kill my parents if he left.”

“He might kill them if he died too,” Remus pointed out quietly. 

Sirius’ face crumpled and without warning he hid his face in Remus’ shoulder. “I can’t talk about it,” he pleaded. “Please. I can’t.” 

Remus wasn’t quite sure what to do, but he only put a hand on Sirius’ back and rubbed it softly the way his mother did when he was very ill. “Shh, it’s okay. Let’s just forget it for a while and listen to the musical.”

Remus had to get up to change the record at the end of Act I. “Obsession” seemed to distress Sirius even more, to the point Remus almost lifted the needle off the record, but Sirius held out a beckoning hand, pulling him back toward the couch. 

“Please stay.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“I really…really love you, you know.”

Remus was shocked. Sirius never mentioned his feelings to anyone, even if Remus could guess them most of the time.  He swallowed. “I…I love you too Padfoot. You know that.”

“No, I know,” Sirius looked away as “Dangerous Game” began to play. He swallowed convulsively, and Remus watched his Adam’s apple work before he forced out. “But not like that.”

“Not like what?” Remus’ heart was thundering in his ears. He couldn’t hear Jekyll singing.

“I don’t love you like James.”

“I know,” Remus said quickly. “You two are closer - like brothers and -”

“Like brothers,” Sirius quickly agreed. His black eyes were hot, burning into Remus’ pale face. “I love you like…” he swallowed again.

The third reprise of “Façade” began, and they both smiled at each other nervously. 

“I think we’re just wasting time,” Remus said lightly, tangling his fingers into Sirius’ hair. “Is this okay?”

Sirius kissed him suddenly, hard, wet, passionate. He bent Remus down on the couch with no resistance, climbing back on top of him as the chords of “The Way Back" and “A New Life” carried them into the next portion of their lives.

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