Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Poot has created a group chat with OleMacdonald,

 MrNonchalant, Marlsboro, Lice, FrOnk, and (721) 389-07082

Poot has changed the name to Dirty Talk

Poot:

Choc milk anyone?

Marlboro:

it is 7:29 pm

Poot:

and?

ever heard of osteoporosis, Marlene?

Lice: 

amen!

(721) 389-07082

Who is this?

Poot:

Demi Lovato

MrNonchalant: 

omg Demi were you cool this summer???

FrOnk:

luv that song

OleMacdonald:

who is that 👉

Marlsboro:

^^^

Poot:

oh  

i forgot I changed Prongs’ contact 

so when I searched to add him 

i couldnt find him 

(721) 389-07082:

What is this?

MrNonchalant:

Business group chat for a swingers club

Lice:

orgy planning

FrOnk:

Those are basically the same thing

MrNonchalant added iiii to the chat

Poot:

oh that’s what I changed it to!

iiii:

what 

is 

up

Errbody

FrOnk:

errbody

???

MrNonchalant:

@prongs wormy got ur number wrong 

stranger danger 👉

(721) 389-07082

So I’m going to leave now.

Marlsboro:

OH who is you

Lice:

no like actually who is u tho

Replied to 

So I’m going to leave now.

iiii:

don’t go friend 

but like

bros never heard of abbreviations before 😂

OleMacdonald: 

stop using that damn emoji

Poot: 

Fr

iiii: 

it’s my fav tho ??

Marlsboro:

yeh yours and every white woman above the age of 40

MrNonchalant: 

Prongs I shall stand besides you in this time of strife

dare i say….

OleMacdonald:

don’t do it….

MrNonchalant:

😂

OleMacdonald:

he did it

MrNonchalant:

i did 

it hurt a little

but it is done

FrOnk:

I find i prefer: 😹

Lice:

meow

iiii:

pads 

Ur too pure for this world

Poot:

Unfortunate wording mate

MrNonchalant:

so many words in the english language

and u settle on pure

Marlsboro:

OleMacondald:

think he meant purr 

as in 

yasssss purrr

Poot:

luv when u try 2 diffuse awk situations @OleMacdonald

MrNonchalant:

# Toujours Pur

nahhh

#trojoursdisowned👎

Marlsboro:

hey @Poot remember when u added a rando number 

to our gc

(721) 389-07082:

Still here.

iiii:

heyyyyyyyyy 

also 

Wormy how did u forget my # 😂

OleMacdonald:

enough. 

I am sick.

Marlsboro:

On the verge of emailing apple myself tbh

Reckon some bribery can get that emoji erased

iiii:

NOOOOOOOOO

Wait 

qwhat is everyone’s fav emoji

FrOnk:

🌮

Poot:

🎅🏿

Marlsboro:

👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

OleMacdonald:

gay

…

🗿

Lice:

🐬

MrNonchalant:

🍑

fuck wait

👅

no

💦

well actually

Marlsboro has edited MrNonchalant to SexualDeviant

SexualDeviant has edited their name to MrNonchalant

(721) 389-07082: I am appalled. Nothing about those emoticons are nonchalant.

MrNonchalant:

🤹‍♂️

final answer

OI

iiii:

emoticons😂

Poot:

Pls who put their dad in here

OleMacdonald:

YOU DID

(721) 389-07082:

Technically speaking, emoticon is the proper term.

MrNonchalant:

properly speaking 🤓

k but r u 58<

(721) 389-07082:

>58

Poot:

perf 

whats ur fav emoji then

MrNonchalant:

Wormtail dont be rude

stranger, he means emoticons

Excuse him

(721) 389-07082: I don't use them.

OleMacondald:

ew?

iiii:

Like 

Then what do u do

When u give bad news to some1

(721) 389-07082:

I tell them in person? Like a decent human being?

OleMacdonald:

who are u giving bad news to over text 😳

iiii:

No??one???

Marlsboro:

Right answer 

iiii:

Speaking of answer

stranger! Send ur fav emoji!!!!!!!!!

(721) 389-07082:

I don't have one.

iiii:

💔

(721) 389-07082:

…

🍞

OleMacdonald:

bread

Poot:

only the most boring emoji but wtv

MrNonchalant:

order in the court 🧑‍⚖️

(721) 389-07082:

I don’t need to explain myself to you. At least mine isn’t a tongue.

MrNonchalant:

I CORRECTED MYSELF??

and i selected the tongue with nothing but innocence

But i digress

Leaky at 10????

Poot:

Marlsboro:

OleMacdonald:

makeameme.org

…..

Marlsboro:

I was bored?

the judgement jesus

iiii:

LFGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG

(721) 389-07082:

Leaky cauldron?

iiii:

yurrrrr pull up

wait

where do u live?

(721) 389-07082:

So I’m actually not going to give that information to several online strangers. 

Poot:

boring 

We don’t want u there anyways 

U prob have a very interesting night planned anyways

MrNonchalant:

Full of crossword puzzles

And sudoku

FrOnk:

and bread

Chapter Text

Dirty Talk

Poot:

yk how coppers have battering rams

And they like ram down doors with the battering ram

Marlsboro:

yes 

self explanatory if you ask me

would go as far as to say we did not need the explanation

Poot:

well

I am that door 

and margaritas are the ram 

iiii: 

I am a pin

vodka cran is the bowling ball 

MrNonchalant:

I am me 

jaegarbombs are my mom 

OleMacdonald:

Fucking hell 

Lice:

aaaand we’re done 

(721) 389-07082:

Good night? 

MrNonchalant:

Jeez forgot u were in here 

Y r u still in here 

(721) 389-07082:

Ouch

Morbid curiosity. 

MrNonchalant:

oh morbid curiosity of course 

out of my own morbid curiosity 

what’s the back of ur credit card look like 

I’m a visual learner btw 

Poot:

Padfoot ur rich 

MrNonchalant:

And? I want to be richER

iiii:

my frontal lobe is throbbing 

A=and looking at a proper phone #

is making room spin

also makes me feel like im talking to myself

bc there is only a 1 digit diff from my #

may still be drunk?

Marlsboro:

agreed

on all accounts

Poot:

so what im hearing is that we need a name

for our dear friend

iiii:

ROLLLCALLLLLL

OleMacdonald:

Mary

Marlsboro:

Marlene 

iiii:

Prongs!

🦌🦌🦌

Poot:

Wormtail 

MrNonchalant:

Padfoot 🕺

Marlsboro:

oh we’re doing our made up names

That wouldve been nice to know 3 seconds ago 

FrOnk: 

i feel less inclined to share my birth name now

But its frank

Lice: 

very precarious situation here 

And alice

Poot:

….

(721) 389-07082:

John

OleMacdonald:

holy fake name 🚨

(721) 389-07082:

And wormtail isn't?

OleMacdonald:

valid response ngl

Replied to (721) 389-07082

And wormtail isn't? 

Poot:

 nope! Printed on my birth certificate and everything

My mum is very eccentric

(721) 389-07082:

John is my middle name.

iiii: 

Well that

 just wont do

we shall

devise you

a 

nickname 

Marlsboro:

personally feel like u could’ve sent those 11 words 

in a singular message! like a proper sentence 

not 6 separate texts

MrNonchalant:

do not try to dim his eternal optimism 

u know he gets excited easily 

FrOnk:

😼

Replied to iiii

nickname

MrNonchalant:

BACK UP LADIES

🫷😼🫸

i got this

(721) 389-07082:

Oh joy.

MrNonchalant:

John 

(721) 389-07082:

Yes

MrNonchalant:

can i call u john?

(721) 389-07082:

You can and you have.

MrNonchalant:

Splendid

John im gonna ask a series of questions

@ least 17 

and only then will i properly nickname you

(721) 389-07082:

17 may be overkill.

MrNonchalant:

it is not

question one

what is ur fav hobby

(721) 389-07082:

Reading 

MrNonchalant:

Jesus christ 

MrNonchalant has named (721) 389-07082 Nerd

Nerd:

So, that was actually one (1) question. 

MrNonchalant:

And you failed spectacularly 

I no longer desire to know more about you

That was enough

Nerd:

In that case I succeeded spectacularly. 

iiii:

pause 

ill do u one better

iiii has edited Nerd to SirNerdAlot

iiii:

😂

Poot:

SirNerdALot:

Right. 

And may I ask, what is iiii supposed to mean?

iiii:

oh

I wear glasses

MrNonchalant:

four eyes 

4 eyes

iiii (four i’s)

quite brilliant, really

SirNerdALot:

I see. 

iiii:

I see too 

(only w/ my glasses tho)

SirNerdALot:

Yes, I got that.  

And Prongs? Padfoot? Wormtail? 

Did you put animals into a random name generator perchance?

MrNonchalant:

ur not cleared for that information

SirNerdALot:

Oh, pity. 

Replied to SirNerdAlot

Did you put animals into a random name generator perchance?

Marlsboro:

perchance?

literally what is the spectrum of ur vocabulary 

OleMacdonald:

that is a bang up question

how old r u @SirNerdAlot

Poot:

my guess is 82

SirNerdALot:

“ ur not cleared for that information”

MrNonchalant:

har har

😐

Lice:

y dont we all say our age at the same time

for safety reasons

Marlsboro:

I concur

Lice:

okay 

3….

Poot:

Im shaking in anticipation

Lice:

2….

FrOnk:

is this how katniss everdeen felt

Lice:

1

SirNerdALot:

24

Oh what the fuck.

Poot:

cannot believe you fell for that mate

MrNonchalant:

too trusting 

you’ll learn

SirNerdAlot has left the conversation

iiii:

NOOOOO

Marlsboro:

bruh

MrNonchalant has added SirNerdAlot to the conversation

iiii:

AYEEEE🔥

SirNerdAlot has left the conversation

iiii:

no 💔

MrNonchalant has added SirNerdAlot to the conversation

MrNonchalant:

I can do this all day

u attention seeker

SirNerdALot:

Well, the 30 seconds of peace were nice while they lasted.

Replied to MrNonchalant

u attention seeker

Marlsboro:

Be so fr rn

most hypocritical thing i have ever heard

*read

SirNerdAlot:

Turns out I did not need the countdown. 

I have concluded your ages based on context clues. 

Poot:

and?

SirNerdAlot:

You are all 9

@MrNonchalant is 4

OleMacdonald:

cant even argue w that

MrNonchalant:

nice

be fr tho

SirNerdALot:

I am so serious.

Marlsboro:

do NOT

Poot:

Oh christ

MrNonchalant:

NO UR NOT
I AM

iiii:

We are 24 too!

this is fate 

Awe❤️‍🔥

John what is ur insta

Replied to MrNonchalant

Jpg image

SirNerdALot:

What?

And I don’t have instagram.

OleMacdonald:

what the hell u freak

Lice:

^^^^

how do u stalk people then

SirNerdALot:

In person?

I’m at your front door @Poot

FrOnk:

Oh thats 

Poot:

Come on in 😏

i leave the door unlocked

SirNerdALot:

That’s really not safe.

Lice:

yeah u shouldnt do that....

or tell ppl u do that

MrNonchalant:

Wormtail. 

Lock ur fucking door

Chapter Text

Regulus Black

Sirius:

hey

Read 3:45 pm

Sirius:

hey

Read 3:57 pm

Sirius:

Regulus

Regulus:

What.

Sirius:

finally

how r u

Regulus:

I was better at 3:44 pm

Sirius:

Read 4:02 pm 

Sirius:

for fucks sake

Regulus

Regulus:

What do you want? I'm busy.

Sirius:

hey

busy w what

Regulus:

Nothing that concerns you.

Sirius:

oh come on

ofc it concerns me

im ur brother 

Regulus:

Are you?

Sirius:

thats not fair

im trying, Reggie

Regulus:

I am at practice.

Sirius:

what the hell

practice for what?

don’t tell me u have picked up footy

Regulus:

I have not.

Sirius:

well thanks for giving me so much to go off of

Cheers

Regulus:

Band practice.

Sirius:

WHAT?

WHAT?

BAND?

Read 4:17 pm

Sirius:

REGULUS 

ur in a band? 

wtf

can a one person band even be called a band…

Regulus:

Not a one person band.

Sirius:

Reggie 

Counting urself twice doesnt count

Read 4:23 pm

Sirius:

do u have friends?? 🥹

Regulus:

I have bandmates. 

Sirius:

Oh my god u have friends

Who’s garage r u hanging in

this is too cute

Regulus:

No garage. I am at a venue right now.

Sirius:

SOMEONE BOOKED U?????

 be honest are they deaf

Read 4:30 pm

Sirius:

So this is like an honest to god band 

Like 

You play for people?

I didnt even know u still played

Regulus:

You didn't ask. And yes, we play for people.

Sirius:

This u???

Read 4:33 pm

Prongsie

Padfoot:

PRONGS

Prongs:

PADS

Padfoot:

REGGIE IS IN A REAL LIKE BAND

life*

Prongs:

OMG thats so hot 🤤

Padfoot:

can u not

Prongs:

my b

ily

Padfoot:

Ily more

but

what music do u think they play

He wont tell me anything

What do u think their name is 

this doesn't make him cooler than me does it

Prongs:

1. Arabian

2. White Boy Reason

3. Not a chance (maybe a little)

Padfoot:

1. prob not that
2. definitely not that
3. prongs 💔

Dirty Talk

MrNonchalant:

everyones fav song?

go now

iiii:

Mirrors

 Justin Timberlake u utter goat

Poot:

California Girls, Katy Perry

OleMacdonald:

No Diggity

FrOnk:

The Night We Met

Lice:

Awe Frank 

And I Don’t Fuck With You by Big Sean 😌

Poot:

Woah

Lice:

Marlsboro:

Sexy Drug

self explanatory 

MrNonchalant:

good one

wow idk 

this is an impossible question 

SirNerdAlot:

You’re literally the one that asked it.

MrNonchalant:

u go then

unless ur too busy reading?

SirNerdAlot:

Good burn.

You really got me with that one. 

And Moonage Daydream

David Bowie

MrNonchalant has started a private conversation with SirNerdAlot

Stranger

MrNonchalant:

YES I KNOW WHO SINGS MOONAGE DAYDREAM 

I MEAN COME ON

SirNerdAlot:

Why are we in a breakout room for this?

MrNonchalant:

dont act like u dont wanna be alone w me😏

and that is not ur fav song

SirNerdAlot:

No you’re right I lied. 

I typically waste my time lying about things as trivial as my favorite song. 

MrNonchalant:

trivial? 

u make me sick

SirNerdAlot:

Sorry for having a vocabulary too advanced for you. I will dumb it down in the future.

MrNonchalant:

ur so mean moony

SirNerdAlot:

That is not something that is happening.

Talk Dirty

MrNonchalant has edited SirNerdAlot to Moony

MrNonchalant:

aaaanddddd

it happened 

🎤📉

Poot:

Mic line graph???

MrNonchalant:

Ffs Mic drop wormy

Mic drop 

Marlsboro:

🤦‍♀️

FrOnk:

MOOONYYYYYYYYY 

OleMacdonald:

rolls off the tongue better than SirNerdAlot i must say

iiii:

RIP SirNerdAlot

Long Live Moony 😎🔥

Pads

apple of my eye 

light of my life

u go

MrNonchalant:

Black Dog, Led Zeppeline

God Save the Queen, Sex Pistols

The Prettiest Star, Bowie

anything by Queen ever 

Replied to MrNonchalant

The Prettiest Star, Bowie

Marlsboro:

conceited much?

and that is three (3) songs

Plus like 87

MrNonchalant:

and i stand by that

Moony:

Honestly, a good list.

MrNonchalant:

did that really just happen

Poot:

omg character development

MrNonchalant:

Moony, i will take that compliment to the grave

Moony:

Complimented the list, not you.

MrNonchalant: 

And thus inadvertently complimented my taste

which is a compliment to me 

Moony:

Dammit

Chapter Text

Dirty Talk

OleMacdonald:

probability of getting @Marlsboro to go to gym w me?

Lice:

very low

Poot:

^^^^

some would say non-existent

Marlsboro:

To spite u all 

I shall go 

iiii:

went for run this morning 

got a coffee after 

feeling refreshed and productive

ready to tackle the day 

I recommend @Marlsboro

Moony:

We are having very different days

iiii:

How so

Moony: 

Well, for starters, I am still in bed. 

iiii:

oh yeah that'll do it

eh you’ll get em tomorrow!

Moony:

Probably not.

iiii:

@MrNonchalant wya

padfoot

pads

pad

foot

MrNonchalant:

well, here I am

what r ur other 2 wishes?

Poot: 

Ngl that was terrible

FrOnk:

Gonna lie tha shit was gas🔥

MrNonchalant:

my lovely comraderies 

I am practicing my pick ups

Moony:

They should rename them “put downs” after that display

MrNonchalant:

@Moony just say u have no game 

Jealousy is unbecoming of u

Moony:

My other two wishes are 1. Your silence and 2. Removal from this heinous group chat.

MrNonchalant: 

declined

OleMacdonald:

@Marlsboro r u coming 

MrNonchalant:

hello????

😏📸

Marlsboro:

I am On my Way!

On my Way!

Fuck 

I’m On my Way! 

MrNonchalant:

guys i think she’s on her way or something

Marlsboro:

O M W 

fucking autocorrect

I can assure u im not that excited for the fucking gym

Moony:

Good luck soldier.

Stranger

MrNonchalant:

what r u doing on this fine afternoon

Moony:

Feeling nostalgic about my life before I met you.

MrNonchalant:

ur breaking my heart here

say what’s ur day job?

Moony:

As opposed to my night job?

MrNonchalant:

humor me

Moony:

Remote editor

MrNonchalant:

oh 

hm

so u like…. fix tv remotes?

Moony:

I wish you were joking but I know you’re not. I cannot even laugh because I worry about you.

I edit novels from home. 

MrNonchalant:

yk i prefer tv remote fixer to that 

sounds more exciting 

I mean u get paid to read?

Jesus thats dull

Id be bitter and rude too.

Moony:

Wow you are one sweet talker ☺️

MrNonchalant:

EMOjiii???

whoever this is i am gonna have 2 ask u to return the phone to its rightful owner

Moony:

Did I use it right given the context?

MrNonchalant:

U did so well 

So proud 

🥲

Moony:

These past few months have been the peak of my life.

And I just genuinely felt myself unpeak.

Like the moment I sent that emoticon.

It is all downhill from here.

MrNonchalant: 

Life is merely a temporary obstacle 

Emojis are forever

Moony:

You really just say words and hope for the best sometimes, huh?

MrNonchalant:

bitch

 brb gonna go tell everyone u developed self-expression

Moony:

They will never believe you 

And if you measure self-expression by emoticon use then I am truly concerned for society. 

Replied to Moony

They will never believe you

MrNonchalant:

nah they know im always serious 😏

Dirty Talk

iiii:

Heard a new song today

It altered my perspective on life

very niche, not very well known

I think one of u may be able to relate to it

FrOnk:

for the last time

cotton eyed joe is not niche nor relatable

iiii:

Frank i pity your spotify account

@Moony

Moony:

Yes?

iiii:

R u familiar with Benson Boone

Moony:

I can’t say I am 

Also can’t say I want to be, if he had the power to alter your spiritual perspective.

iiii:

MOONBEAM ICE CREAM

TAJING OFF UR BLUEJEANS

DANCINF @ THE MOVIES

MrNonchalant:

PRONGS NO
IMMEDIaTLEY NOT

iiii:

I wish i could backflip like him

Moony:

Are those the lyrics or are you having a laugh?

iiii:

Those are the lyrics!

Moony:

So the deterioration of human nature has finally begun. 

Good to know. 

MrNonchalant:

I fucking hate that guy 

back flipping and singing about ice cream 

I agree with Moony

that song is why people go to war

Moony:

That song is the embodiment of a manic episode.

MrNonchalant:

That song is if verbal forehead was a condition

forehead wtf

dirreeha*

diarrhea****

Moony:

Verbal diarrhea is a condition, and you have it

Poot:

BBoone is hot tho

so he gets a pass

Lice:

so hot

FrOnk:

on my own cellular device @Lice?????

Regulus Black

Regulus:

I have a show Friday night. At the Three Broomsticks. 9pm.

Sirius:

r u asking me 

or threatening me

Regulus:

Come if you want, I don’t care.

Sirius:

I’ll be there 

do u have a band name 

bc if not I can help

For instance 

Goblet of Fiyah 

Penguin Divorce Court

Velcro Jesus

Opps, My Pants

Read 6:02 pm 

Sirius:

okay nvm then 

but do u have a set list 

Like what is the overall vibe

Reg

Read 6:12 pm

Chapter Text

Navigating a bar crowded so obscenely was making Sirius sweat. He could feel his neck dampen both from the proximity of writhing bodies and the length of his hair, and he only hoped he appeared more glowy than he did disgusting as he pushed his way to the bar. 

“What do we think? Will Reg have any musical inclination, or will this be an be an embarrassing dumpster fire of emo adults and self-acclaimed punk rockness.”

“Not self-acclaimed. Your brother is punk rock,” James declares with a dopey grin, his gaze fixated on the stage as he swiveled on the bar stool. 

Sirius simply stares at him. “His favorite series is Twilight, Prongs.”

James’s lips twitch. “A man with taste. Please don’t delude yourself into thinking I don’t remember you fancying Edward. Besides, your parents paid for the best tutors. I’m sure he knows what he’s doing.”

Sirius rolls his eyes and flags down the bartender. Doing so results in a very ambitious flirt session, which Sirius only partly puts his effort into. The overall ambiance of the bar kept distracting him; the dim overhead light complemented by colorful strobe beams pulsing in vibrant shades. The Three Broomsticks was quaint but charming, with vintage portraits hung on walls and dollar bills dangling from the ceiling by clear twine. If one can ignore the strong smell of sweat and spilled beer, it could be classified as comfortable.

Sirius risked a glance at the stage, attention caught by the sound of static accompanied by a buzzing microphone, the low hum of electricity feeding into anticipation throughout the room.

“Really though, Prongs. What sort of music are you expecting? Because personally, I cannot determine whether it will be strictly Adele or the Goo Goo Dolls.”

Prongs snorts into his beer. “Can you imagine Regulus singing Iris?” He then turns serious, pupils expanding in a way that makes Sirius wince. “I think I’d propose to him on the spot.”

“He would sooner sing ABBA, I think. But then again, we will never know, because I will kill you and then myself before you can even kneel in front of him.”

“Pads, we would be brother-in-laws. Legal family members. That would be so epic,” James sighs.

“We are legal family members. Effie and Monty are my legal guardians.”

James shakes his head. “It’s not the same.”

Sirius’s lips curl, stuck somewhere between a frown and a smile. “You just want to shag my brother. Stop trying to be sappy about it to gain my approval.”

James opens his mouth to respond, but his eyes stray to the stage, where a simultaneously attractive and intimidating man stands groping the microphone as he takes to fiddling with the amp. His piercings catch the light like stars winking into focus. The lighting of the room turns his dark hair into pools of black and green oil, spiky against the backdrop of an old drum-set and tattered tapestry reading “The Moaning Myrtles.” 

Sirius is momentarily distracted by the drink that slides across the bar to him, drops of condensation rolling across the ridges. He reaches for it, the glass cold against his warm skin, as he glances at the stage. He doesn’t really comprehend what he’s looking at until he’s facing the bar again; his head immediately whips back around towards the front of the dingy bar, a violent double take that makes his neck pop.

“The Moaning Myrtles,” James hums from somewhere besides him. “That’s a pretty solid name, actually.”

But Sirius isn’t really listening. He is, instead, focused on the figure entering from stage right.

Sirius tracks the movements. This new character was tall, almost reaching the lights strung above the band’s setup; his hair, curly and sand colored even from here, brushes the twinkling fairy-lights as he slouches to avoid ripping them from the ceiling and creating an electrical fire. 

Electrical fire. That was what it felt like the longer Sirius watched this man. 

Said man carried a guitar case, depositing it on the splintered wood of center stage. Sirius’s traitorous eyes flicker from unruly curls to his arms, which, despite the lankiness of this guy’s body, were toned something dangerous. Capable but not an overstatement of muscle; no, if any statement was made, it was by the tattoos littered across bronzed freckled skin. The black ink screamed at Sirius through the heat of the bodies around him and the pressure of the colored lights on the backs of his eyes. Small and large alike, tattoos covered the forearms of this guy like leaves do a branch. He had a montage of flames licking up his left wrist, accompanied by a rotted skull with flowers for eyes on his right. 

Sirius’s mouth watered when the man turned, red LED lights shrouding his face in well-placed shadows. His face was smoothed into something neutral, but his eyes were smudged with liner and mirth, framed by thickly arched brows and followed by a slightly crooked but charming nose. The structure of his face was otherworldly, his cheekbones jutting from the swell of his cheeks, stretched underneath a tawny complexion and across a pronounced jaw. Silver lines resembling stardust reached from his hairline to his chin in a diagonal line that Sirius had the distinct desire to lick. This man was utterly devastating.

Sirius’s eyes flickered across the man as if they couldn’t quite decide which attribute to focus on. The slouch in his posture, the pucker of his lips as he concentrated. And, God, the singular golden hoop in his left ear lobe. He was wearing a pair of tattered black jeans, which were tucked into heavy black boots that had chains running around the ankle. His shirt was somehow loose around his waist and yet tight around his arms (as if it was made to be worn by him), with a distressed print of David Bowie pasted across the front. Most likely an overworn concert shirt that he had probably found at a thrift store. Sirius wanted to put it on himself and smell it.

Sirius’s eyes zeroed in on this gorgeous man’s neck without an ounce of shame. Because, really, he was just teasing him now. A butterfly - no, a moth tattoo was displayed across his Adam’s apple. Sirius wasn’t close enough to properly examine it, but he knew he wanted to taste it. 

The man’s lips were pressed into a line as he turned to his pierced mate, and when the pierced guy (Sirius settled on calling him Gage, as his ears had holes you could fit a hot dog through) muttered something to him, he broke into a laugh. 

It transformed his entire face. His eyes squinted, gleaming from afar, and his mouth stretched into an easy smile that pulled the skin around his mouth up at the corners and cast a coy expression across his face. His dimples ( dimples !) announced themselves as he reached out to shove the other man away. He shook his head and crouched towards his guitar case, leaning forward in a motion that sent a cascade of curls across his forehead that resulted in an impromptu mask. 

Sirius sat forward, entranced, only to remember he had nowhere to go but the floor (which was confirmed after having to rely on James’s outstretched arm, which prevented him from eating cement…and who knows what else. This floor had not been cleaned since ever).

Sirius watched this beautifully gorgeous man open the case, extracting a bass guitar. Because, of course, it was a bass guitar. 

“ Pads, mate, can you hear me? They haven’t even started yet, and it's like you’ve already got hearing damage,” James says exasperatedly, hand still clutching Sirius’s shoulder in a way to both anchor him and demand his attention.

“Prongs,” Sirius says hoarsely, eyes roving between James and the bassist. “Regulus has been holding back on me.”

James’s brow furrows before he follows Sirius’s line of sight. His lips part as his gaze locks in on who has all of Sirius’s attention. 

“Oh. Bloody hell, he’s gorgeous. Suddenly, I can’t wait to see the rest of the band. They’re three for three at the moment.”

“Who is that?” Sirius breathes, just as Regulus steps on stage. He is followed closely by two girls, both of whom seem to have made an extensive shopping excursion at Hot Topic. 

Regulus is, as usual, blank-faced. If he is nervous, he doesn’t show it. He also refuses to look into the crowd, as if he knows Sirius is there and waiting to make eye contact so he can embarrass him with an over-jovial wave and or obnoxious facial expression. Pity, that. He wears black trousers and an equally black shirt, no color, print, or theme detected. He looks like a wraith, enveloped in darkness that contrasts with the paleness of his features. James hums from beside him, content to stare.

The two girls continue the gothic theme. The redhead, who has a fierce smile to accompany her display of freckles, wears a cropped black tee layered above a mesh long-sleeve shirt. Her hair is slicked back into two pigtails atop her head, the length braided to fall past her shoulders. The other, whose locks are tied into a messy knot, adorns a muscle tank that displays her ribs and the drumsticks shoved carelessly in her back pocket.

Every single member is gracelessly beautiful, that much is undeniable. However, none of them hold a torch to the bassist. The bassist, who is tuning his guitar with his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek, mouth open enough that Sirius can see the whites of his teeth and the pink of his tongue.

Sirius leans against the back of the bar, legs spread as he examines the crowd getting swallowed into the body of the establishment, pushing to be closer to the stage, as if they are as enamored with those in the band as Sirius himself is. He decides it best for his control to remain where he is throughout the set, lest he rush the stage and tackle the bassist into a… passionate embrace.

Finally, one more person walks on stage. His blonde hair is disheveled, as if he just had a lot of fun behind the curtains. His shirt is white, the print faded so severely that Sirius couldn’t distinguish what was once covering it. His eyes, too, are smudged with confidence and eyeshadow, and he immediately clutches the microphone stand as he comes to address the viewers. 

He lets the crowd simmer for a beat, a smirk stretching his lips as his eyes sweep the room. 

“Alright, you lovely people. I hope you lot have something to scream about tonight, because it's gonna get loud.” He pauses when someone closest to him literally screams, as if they’ve just had a sexual awakening.

 His smirk turns downright mischievous. “Hold tight - we’re not slowing down. Even if you ask nicely.”

There isn’t an introduction, or even a moment to adjust. Instead, there is the deafening ensemble of instruments clashing together in a fight for dominance. It takes Sirius a second the place the song, and when he does, he grins. The multi-colored strobe lights are pulsing something vicious now, the overhead light extinguished completely, and the visible onslaught matches the eruption from the crowd in a wonderful anecdote. 

“Fuck,” James curses, though he has to shout it in order to be heard over Muse’s Supermassive Black Hole . “Twilight, indeed.”

Sirius silently agrees, because the band is playing together in a rich blend of barely restrained composure that results in a near eargasm. The band’s opening speaker is leaning into the microphone stand like it’s the only thing capable of keeping him upright, his voice a low growl when accompanied by the snarl of bass and rumble of drums.

His companion, Gage (?) is singing in harmony alongside him, head cocked and eyes narrowed in a display of defiance. The drum player, a dark skinned girl who is already sweating, is as relentless as the blur of her arms as she gravitates from left to right, her fatal blows in practiced.

Sirius didn’t even know there were piano elements in Supermassive Black Hole, but the redhead chick is absolutely making it work. And the bassist, God. 

His fingers - long and pale - slide down the neck of the bass, plucking strings in tandem. Sirius can feel himself flush as he watches those hands (hands which, by the way, had delicate lines of black ink across the top) stroke and slide up and down the neck in rapid succession. The nails were poorly painted and chipped, with a scattering of rings pushed to his knuckles.

Sirius can’t help his wayward thoughts as he watches the bass player’s muscles flex with each precisely practiced movement. The rock of his hips as he changed notes, as if switching gears in a car, the concentrated furrow of his brow, the flickering of his eyes. The guitar was slung low on his hips, causing his shirt to ride up and display a stretch of smooth skin across his pelvic bone. His head was dipped, co-existing with his self-made rhythm, until he threw his head back completely, his neck stretching to show the curve of his jaw and expanse of bright skin damp with sweat.

The opening song came to a close and, as promised, the band immediately launched into the second. Sirius felt like he should snort at the fact that Regulus was willingly playing My Chemical Romance publicly, but he couldn’t even properly entertain the thought because they sounded so fucking good.

The bassist was shaking hair from his eyes, biting his bottom lip as he strummed the gentle notes in rapid succession. Sirius had the obscene desire to soothe the irritated skin of his bottom lip with his tongue. He wanted to put that tattoo-covered hand on his throat, feel the secure pressure of those pale, nimble fingers. He felt like a groupie, and he couldn’t even be mad about it. 

When I was a young boy

My father took me into the city 

To see a marching band

The two singers were leaning against each other, bodies flush and cheeks pressed together as they shared the single microphone, voices rumbling in a biting growl that had the crowd hungry. Their expressions convey pure seduction and confidence because they, without a doubt, know what they’re doing.

Sirius is like ninety percent sure he’s blacked out. Not even one beer in, and he could feel the energy of the bar and the rush of his blood flood his veins. He feels high, watching this severe group throw themselves with reckless abandon into the very music being coerced beneath their fingertips. 

Sirius leaned towards James and fought hard to form words. In the end, he eloquently announced, “I’m so turned on right now,” to which James nodded enthusiastically, a flush to his cheeks. 

And then finally, finally, on the fifth song, the bassist leaned forward. Entranced, Sirius followed him, moving forward on his stool in a pathetically desperate attempt to close the distance between them (he was literally on stage and Sirius was at the bar. They were nowhere near each other). 

The bass player’s mouth lifts at the corner, and Sirius’ gut twisted, giving a violent lurch, when the man’s voice reverberated through the microphone before him.

Scotty doesn't know that Fiona and me

Do it in my van every Sunday

His voice is deep, rugged, and self-assured. Like the rumble of distant thunder or gravel being driven over in a vacant parking lot. His hair is plastered to his forehead and his scars catch and hold the light, pronounced by sweat and angle as the bassist lifts his chin to properly sweep his gaze across the buzzing crowd, all while singing like a devil and playing bass like it’s an afterthought. 

He’s still smirking when his eyes find and hold Sirius’s in the dark. Like he’s singing a secret just for him, his words unhurried and languid, matching the pace at which his fingers pluck keys. The man’s tongue darts out across his lips, and his eyes narrow, locked in on his prey, as he sings. Sirius is utterly still, transfixed. When he sings his next line with a sharp tilt, it feels like a hook has settled between Sirius’s ribs and pulled. 

Fiona says she’s out shopping

But she’s under me 

And I’m not stopping

His words ended on a rasp, the word “stopping” punctuated by a minor moan that was breathless and intentional. His eyes dance as they slowly rake up and down Sirius, leaving Sirius panting. With a final quirk of his eyebrow, the bassist’s gaze is gone, and Sirius feels it like a sinking feeling in his gut.

“Prongs,” Sirius says, his hand searching for James without looking. This leads to unceremonious slaps to James’ arms, chest, and face- until James takes Sirius’s offending hand prisoner between his own. Sirius refuses to let his eyes stray from his honest to god soulmate . 

“We just made eye contact so intense I think I c-,” Sirius’s first mistake is whispering, as if there is a risk that the man on stage can hear him, which is ridiculous. This results in James interrupting his soon-to-be crude comment with a confused outburst, dressed in a shrieked: “WHAT? I CAN’T HEAR YOU.” 

“That man,” Sirius said numbly. He could hardly discern James’ amused expression. The bass player was still singing and he sounded like a siren. Sirius would let him drown him. He would welcome that cold water with open arms. In fact, he should probably take a cold shower when he gets home.

“He knows what he’s doing,” James agrees, gesturing towards the stage. “And Christ, so doesn’t your brother.” 

Sirius ignores that last bit and groans. “He’s gorgeous. Oh my god, I want to be that bass. Or that microphone. Or the jeans he has on.” 

Scotty Doesn’t Know was coming to a close, the notes entering their final dredges, and Sirius wished he had a gun, if only to force his bass player to keep singing. 

But the bassist steps further back on the stage, allowing Gage (?) and his disheveled friend to step forward for the last song. The music, both singing and instruments combined, is so visceral Sirius can taste it as My Hero by the Foo Fighters consumes the building. 

The drummer really proves herself now, working overtime in her thrashing to meet every cue. Her sharp rhythms are matched by the bassist, who is strumming with those long fingers again, head tilted down to watch each note he hits. Sirius wonders if that was what he would look like with someone kneeling in front of him. Hair matted with sweat, eyes glazed and mouth open. 

There goes my hero 

He's ordinary

The final crack of a cymbal reverberates through the floorboard, met with profound silence. There is only the ringing of Sirius’s ears accompanied by the smell of salt and booze. Then, like a wave breaking, the crowd absolutely loses it. They’re screaming, writhing, just making an insane spectacle that causes those on stage to grin in accomplishment. Regulus, even, is smirking as he pulls one last howl from the amp before letting it fade into feedback.

Sirius can feel the heat from the lights on his skin, and he feels suspended. The Moaning Myrtles are gathering things, boots heavy against polished wood as they make their ways into the shadows and off stage. Sirius is tracking the bassist with an odd sort of determination, and the bastard must sense it, because just as he is enveloped by the curtain, he locks eyes with Sirius and winks. 

“For a cover band,” James finally breathes, eyes wide as they land on Sirius, his grin blinding. “They were fucking brilliant.”

Sirius cannot even find the words to properly express his agreement.

***

Sirius is in a mad dash to locate the band's van before departure. He has shoved aside approximately three strangers, to whom James has apologized on his behalf. Sirius can't find it in himself to care much, though. He feels a bit stupid, hands outstretched in the dark and eyes squinted to find an exit to the alley behind the Three Broomsticks. Finally, the back door is in reach, and Sirius shoves it open so carelessly that he stumbles out into the cold. James's hand grapples with the back of his shirt to stop him from face-planting, but his grip is so strong that the hem of his shirt cuts into his jugular, resulting in a choked garble to escape his throat.

Sirius is wrestling in James's grasp, yanking his shirt down from where it is strangling him, when he looks up to find six pairs of eyes on him. 

The bassist is leaning against the brick wall, legs bent to avoid the rain cascading over the drip mould, eyes dancing in amusement and locked on Sirius. One arm is dangling down, and the other is to his face, fingers loosely clutching a cigarette. Sirius feels as if he is under a microscope, and for some reason, James is still holding the back of his shirt. Sirius bucks, slapping James's hand away, and stands straight up. 

"Where's the fire?" The bassist finally asks, smoke drifting from his lips, clouding the air and painting a picture that could sell for millions. Sirius locks away the image for himself instead. 

"I think you brought it with you. It's a proper madhouse in there. Your fans want an encore," Sirius easily responds, his throat clicking with a harsh swallow. He distinctly remembers earlier this week when he had been dogged for his pick-up line in the group chat. He vaguely thinks Moony may have approved of this one.

The bassist smiles, and Sirius flushes. He flushes. What is he, twelve? He has had enough sexual escapades, so there is no reason that he cannot hold his composure during a conversation with a (very) attractive man. 

"You guys were great," James gushes. "I won't lie, we expected... well, we had low expectations, to be honest. But you shattered them! Seriously, I thought we were gonna get trampled trying to leave there. I overheard someone say they wanted an orgy with you all."

"And you didn't bring them out here with you?" the man with the piercings and spiked hair asks exasperatedly, hands thrown up. Sirius is still watching the bassist, though, as he drops the remains of his cigarette and grinds the ashes with the bottom of his boot. As if similarly enamored, his eyes shamelessly never stray from Sirius. 

"How flattering," a voice says flatly, and then Regulus rounds the side of the van. He is looking at James and Sirius with a bored expression, but Sirius knows he is pleased.

"Reg!" James announced happily, smile splitting his face. "You were brilliant!"

Regulus rolls his eyes and doesn't dignify James with a response. 

The redhead, though, cocks her head. "You know each other?" 

"Unfortunately," Regulus drawls, hefting a box into the trunk of the van.

"Dangerously fortunate, more like," Sirius remarks, a sultry grin consuming his features. He pushes his hair from his face, the strands now wet with rain, and he ignores the tickle of water running down the slope of his nose.

Regulus turns, addressing his (friends?). "My brother and his pet." 

James doesn't bother correcting him, he just appears happy to have been included. "James Potter, absolute marvel to meet you."

Sirius literally watches the bassist's eyes dim in response to Regulus's explanation. Watches him scratch his jaw and look away from Sirius, suddenly focused on the cobblestone etched beneath their feet. Sirius frowns, side-eyeing James, who is too busy vigorously shaking every band member's hand like they've just returned from war to notice.

"Sirius Black," the blonde man, who had addressed the crowd prior to the show, is scrutinizing him closely. "The famous older brother."

"Yes, that is my name, please hold the applause. Heard a lot about me, have you?" Sirius tries, but the others don't look impressed. Sirius wants to pummel Regulus because what had he told them that made the bassist look so displeased by his identity?

"No, actually," the blonde replies bluntly. His friend with the piercings snorts, and Sirius only just clocks how close they're standing, as if they're a physical extension of each other. 

Sirius rolls his eyes. "Typical. Reggie isn't one to give praise, of course, but if he had the emotional depth, he would. I'm a delight, I promise. Though I can't say I've heard much about you lot, either."

"We're busy," Regulus interjects, leveling a glare at Sirius. "So, unless you have something important to say, you can leave."

"Everything I say is important," Sirius dismisses him. "You should start carrying a recorder so you can direct quote me."

'I'd rather carry a set of headphones so I can drown out your incessant voice," Regulus says. 

"Right. Well, I will leave you be, but only after a proper introduction," Sirius attempts a grin. He swivels to the bassist, who looks away as soon as Sirius eyes him. "Let's start with you."

"No introduction necessary," Regulus interjects. "Seeing as the eight of us will never be in the same setting again."

Sirius clicks his tongue. "Reggie, I vow to attend every show your band has until the end of my days. I make this promise as your dotting brother, as well as someone who knows this will piss you off. So, seeing this truth, it is only fair we establish names so I can stop abusing crass nicknames in my head for each of you."

"If I give you my name," the bassist drawls, still looking over Sirius's shoulder as opposed to his face. "Will I be afforded the luxury of finding out said nickname?"

"Wonderful question. I have referred to you exclusively as "the bassist" for the past three hours," Sirius responds. He figures it's best to exclude the term soulmate. He shall save that for their next encounter. 

"Original," he responds. "I am almost disappointed by the lack of creativity."

"I call it as I see it," Sirius shrugs. He points to the pierced guy with one hand and gestures to his ears with the other. "Been calling him Gage. His buddy there is Mr. Disheveled. But this is besdies the point. A legal name would be much appreciated."

"I'm slightly insulted that everyone but me got personal nicknames," the bassist sighs, avoiding the question. Sirius prepares to respond, but Regulus, whose mouth has drawn into a line, interrupts.

 "What is this? This is not happening. Sirius, back away from Remus."

Remus. 

It's like sliding the final square of a Rubik's Cube into place. 

Remus, Sirius thinks, turning the name over in his head, tasting the syllables on his tongue. Yes, this is much easier to work with. He should be able to find all of his socials in no time. 

"Well, that was all I came here for, then," Sirius announces with a grin. "Regulus, great seeing you. I am very impressed and disgruntled by your social standings now. Maybe a wee bit embarrassed, too."

Regulus rolls his eyes. 

" I'll see you raucous bunch again.....?" Sirius swivels his head from side to side, pursing his lips and waiting for someone to fill in his blank.

"Don't think they plan on answering, mate," James offers helpfully. 

Sirius sighs. "So that thing I did just now? That was me trying to get the date and location of the next show out of one of you. But never mind that, I'll figure it out on my own. Have a great night. Farewell, Reggie, goodbye Remus, and also the rest of you all too, but mainly just them." 

Remus, he thought again, the name sweet as sugar on his tongue. 

As they walk away, down the deserted alley drenched in rain and desperation, James shakes his head. 

"I love you Pads, really. But I almost took my glasses off during that interaction. Just so I didn't have to see you make such a fool out of yourself."

"What?" Sirius burst out. "I thought I sounded cool. Like, all collected and nonchalant." 

"You are the least nonchalant person I know," James tuts.

"Can you blame me, Prongs? I mean did you see him?"