‘Gods, are you two at it again?’
Sirius lifted his head off Remus’ chest and glared at James. It was their last evening at Hogwarts and the Marauders had spent the day saying goodbye to the castle that had become their home over the last seven years.
They had done a last run through the secret tunnels to Hogsmeade, a final trip to the Shrieking Shack and the Forbidden Forest, and said farewell to the house elves who had provided them with illicit food so willingly at all hours of the day and night. The day had culminated in their final prank at dinner - involving fireworks as Marauders entered the room (well after everyone else for effect), table centrepieces that spouted dirty limericks sporadically (mainly regarding the love lives of their peers and professors), immovable enchanted banners that rained confetti and announced that Gryffindor 'rules' and Slytherin ’sucks’, and exploding desserts at the end of the meal for the Slytherins.
They were supposed to be finishing their packing now, but James had gone off with Lily after dinner, Peter was snitching some final cakes from the kitchen for the trip home on the train, and Remus and Sirius had made an attempt to give Sirius’ bed a final hurrah, but instead, had collapsed exhausted onto the mattress. For the first time since they became lovers, sex was the farthest thing from their minds…but there was no way Sirius’ ego would let him reveal that to his friend.
‘I’m ready anytime, anywhere, anyhow,' he boasted, straining to lift his tired head off Remus' chest. 'Moony just has to crook that cute little eyebrow at me and…‘
‘Oh, shut up, Pads,' Remus muttered irritably. 'We aren’t doing anything to offend your delicate sensibilities, Prongs…‘
‘Not yet anyway…’ Sirius pushed and Remus glared at his boyfriend.
‘We don’t have the energy,' he revealed and Sirius huffed.
‘I have the stamina of an ox, Moony,' Sirius protested. 'Just because you’re quicker than a greyhound doesn‘t mean we all operate with such haste.’
Remus snorted and extracted himself from Sirius’ grip. Several shirts fell to the floor as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Clothes were strewn all over the room as the Marauders tried to pack for their final journey home on the Hogwart’s Express, finding that their belongings had somehow spread far and wide during the year. They were cutting things a bit fine - the train left first thing in the morning.
Remus’ feet caught in a jacket and he fell like a falling tree to the floor, crashing with a less than masculine screech. James burst out laughing and Sirius peered over the edge of the bed, chuckling once he saw Remus was alright. The werewolf glared at his boyfriend who smiled ingenuously at him. He untangled the jacket from his ankles and threw it at Sirius.
‘Until your trunk is packed properly, Mister Padfoot, your sex life is on hold,' he snapped, flushing with embarrassment at his graceless collapse.
Sirius’ eyes widened as he objected loudly, but Remus remained firm as he stood up.
‘I’m not cleaning seven years worth of crap out of your trunk when we get to your place,' he said, narrowing his eyes. 'I mean it, Padfoot.’
Sirius cocked his head and frowned. ‘Our place, Moony,' he said, an admonishment in his voice. 'When are you going to start calling it our place?’
Remus sighed at the reminder. He was thrilled to be moving in with Sirius, but was very conscious that it was Sirius’ funds that he was going to be living off - at least until he managed to find a job.
Even though the Blacks had been true to their word and cut Sirius’ access to his trust fund, his late Uncle Alphard’s bequest (with which he’d bought his flat nine months ago) was more than enough to keep the brunette comfortable for many years without him having to lift a finger. Sirius had joked about Remus being ‘a kept man’ and made many suggestions, each one increasingly lewd, about how he could earn his keep. But now, with only one more night until they became de factos, Remus was starting to worry in earnest about the unequal financing of their new life.
