Marauder crack

In vino veritas

In the Gryffindor boys' bathroom.

Drunk as hell.

James Potter. The most successful seeker in Quidditch history. The Hogwarts most famous young man, and one of the best students in the school. Animagus in his spare time. Blind to the world.

- Well, I tell you one thing. If Evans keeps rejecting me, I'll give an opportunity to that Mc Fynn. It's nice to know that I have options.

Remus Lupin. Outstanding student of his course. Werewolf. A talent innate for defense against the Dark Arts. Drunk? Lost in it.

- His name is Mc Finne, I told you. And I'll spread the word that you are open to other options, James.

Sirius Black. Last in a line of legendary wizards and sorcerers. School sex symbol. The student who has spent the most time in Headmaster's office on Hogwarts history. A marvel in Transformations and Potions. Drunk lost.

- If you are going to hook up with a guy, James, are you really going to choose that Hufflepuff ...

- Ravenclaw- corrects Remus.

- ... that Ravenclaw before one of us? Man, that hurts. - Grabs the bottle like it's the highway to hell and he doesn't want to return back. He takes long drinks that inflame his eyes. - How strong, mate.

The bottle of firewhiskey passes into the hands of Peter, who coughs every time trying to catch up with Sirius drinking the same amount. James takes it later.

-It's true,- he says. Though it sounds more like a "s'chru". - If I am going to have a boyfriend, you have my absolute priority. - He puts his hand to his chest, excessively contrite. Whiskey awakens Jame's most theatrical side. - Sorry, guys.

-Nah, it's the same - Sirius replies. - Hook up with that Slytherin or whatever.

- Ravenclaw- again, Remus.

- Whatever. - Sirius repeats catching the bottle from James' hands, skipping Remus's turn. - I'll go out with Remus. We don't need you.

He does not want. Remus no, no, he doesn't want to. You know it's a joke and if flirting with someone, Sirius would be flirting with James and just as a matter of habit and because it is their main way of relating to others Homo Sapiens. That's why he doesn't want to feel a thunderstorm fluttering through his stomach but the words "I'll go out with Remus" makes inevitably his stomach hurt and tremble.

- Hey! Would you go out with Remus before me? - James is outraged.

- I'd go out with Quejicus before you.

- Oh yeah? Well, you know that you were on my list the first but now the is Remus.

Does James have a list? Is Sirius going out with him? Now Dumbledore will ask him to go to the ball with him. They have had too much whiskey. The conversation delirates, and Sirius goes with it.

- Dreaming is free, Potter. Remus would be choosing me.

He must be dreaming. He must be delusional from alcohol. He must be more drunk than usual because suddenly he comes out of the closet and, what? Are his friends fighting over him? His straight friends?

- That is not true. - James looks at Remus, almost pleading, completely drunk. - Choose me and I'll do your homework all year long.

So it's Peter who looks angry.

- No way. I'd end up doing both of your homework!

The world is blurred. The whiskey fills everything with steam and the edges of reality are filled with dangerous curves. Really dangerous curves.

It must be the drunkenness but Sirius looks him up and down between strands of magically altered hair to make him look more handsome.

- Choose me - he approaches him without getting up, moving his ass in the ground, lifting his pelvis slightly to aid and torment him - and I will carry you on the motorcycle. - and meandering, he adds - behind or in front, Moony, you choose.

The first thing that crosses Remus's mind is a word. Just one. But doesn't want to admit it, nor think about it, and nevertheless want it to be true.

There is no doubt. He has to escape from that word, pretend that everything is one big fat marauder's joke, that nothing matters, that he's not dying for Sirius, and that every day is worse and more intense.

- There is no doubt that, if I was coerced, blackmailed, or threatened with death and forced to choose between you, I'll stay with Peter.

Wormtail spits fire whiskey through his nose and mouth simultaneously. And Remus keeps running away, running from that word that has suddenly flooded his lungs and makes him feel dirty, low, unworthy, sick with desire. Half an hour later, the conversation is only ember and whiskey, a bad memory in the empty bottom of the bottle.

They leave the bathroom they have sneaked into.

Peter follows James's footsteps, and when Remus is about to leave, he notices that Sirius retains him. There he is again. That hand on his chest, gently pushing him against the wall frame.

- Peter? Do you want me to believe that? - his gaze shines, he could set fire to the school and to the whole Rome afterward. Invade the space that Remus imposes between himself and everyone, and his breath smells of whiskey, of late-night escapades, and infamous shenanigans. 

- You're a chicken, Lupin.

Remus debates in a dialogue with himself. He's flirting. Flirt with all the world. But this is more flirting than normal. It's still a joke. It's torture. It's not going serious. He tries to get out of his mental cloud. He cleared his throat and looks at Sirius but it is not easy to appear that indifference that has perfected as an art over the years.

- If you had given me a better reason than a motorcycle ride, you would have had more options, Black.

Deliberately choose a playful tone. A joke, it's just a joke. But Sirius doesn't seem to be kidding. He gets closer, just a little bit closer to his face, and at that distance, Remus can see his tongue, behind each syllable. So close.

- Who the hell said anything about a walk? I said ride, Remus, not a drive.

There he is again. That word you want to scream. What you want to say to his supposed best friend in that bathroom. "Fuck me" Cannot help it. "Fuck me, Sirius, now please don't let me get away, I dunno wanna hold. Fuck me" Peter and James call them to get out of there hurrying up before anyone hears them.

Remus doesn't feel the ground under his feet but feels the lack of oxygen in the brain. The halls of Hogwarts are the summits in the Himalayan snowfall and is afraid of falling from on high and breaking into multiple pieces.

Sirius lies down on the adjoining bed and is afraid of not being able to control himself, to get into that bed, drop his pants and supplicate.

Fuck me as the dogs do.