Chapter Text
21 : 21
Well, it was safe to say that Remus had officially been stood up.
Served him right for accepting a fucking blind date.
Honestly, he was mostly humouring Lily at this point, it wasn’t like he had placed any kind of hope in this night.
Which made it even harder to admit that it stung. Being stood up that is.
While he could quite easily presume that there was a very good explanation for it, he couldn’t shut up the small voice in his head asking him if he thought that she might have spotted him, and had decided that he clearly wasn’t good-looking enough for it to be worth the loss of a full hour in his presence. Or maybe Lily told her at the last minute that he liked singing in the shower, and his date thought 'ew, no' and decided to binge watch Friends in her bed instead, not even bothering to cancel the date, or to come up with an excuse.
Which was ridiculous. He had never even sung in the shower in his life. But Remus could pride himself for bursts of unwarranted preposterous paranoia.
He didn’t even message Lily to ask her about his date’s possible whereabouts. He didn’t want to hear excuses. He didn’t want her to make a fuss over this. Tomorrow-Remus would be much more understanding and patient. Right-now-Remus wanted another glass of wine and some actual food.
It wasn’t all bad really. The restaurant was quite cosy — Lily had recommended it. There was a warm, dimmed atmosphere, where the golden lights and the candles struggled to brighten up the dark tables thanks to the black ceiling, despite the help of the long mirror that ran all along the two walls of the large room, above the continuous banquette.
The food was quite to his liking, too — at least the appetiser he had ordered while waiting was. They also had piled up hundreds of books behind the banquettes for the customer to choose from, along with some felt pens and crayons Remus guessed were to occupy children. He hadn’t dared picking them up to draw on his paper tablecloth, not that he hadn’t been excruciatingly tempted. He just felt like cock doodles weren’t very first date material (it wasn't going to be all genitals!). So he settled on pretending to read one of the books — something about a world of restlessly violent winds apparently? Hard to say, the nearby table’s chatter has been way too entertaining for him to pass on.
For the last half-hour, he’s been shamelessly eavesdropping on the couple one table over. The place was quite large, but mostly empty, people enjoying the late spring warmth on the terrace rather than staying inside. The quiet atmosphere actually made it hard not to hear what they said, he rationalised. Well, what one of them said, truly. It had been a guilty pleasure.
Remus almost felt bad. Because no matter how much it could personally hurt to be stood up, maybe no date was better than a bad one.
And this one sounded excruciatingly terrible. It hasn’t been as much a conversation than just one of them very loudly boasting on everything he had, everyone he knew and everything he had done, and all those fascinating things he knew or thought about, like the world couldn't pass up the opportunity to learn about every single thought that passed through his mind; and lest not forget the incessant name dropping. And across the table, clearly enduring, his date seemed so thoroughly bored of the incessant chatter that he apparently gave up on even pretending he was remotely interested.
Remus wondered why the blasé bloke even bothered to stay. He questioned whether the chatty one would even notice if his date just stood up and left. Maybe Fine Blabber Mouth would have liked it more if the other man actually left: he was clearly obstructing the view of his own reflection in the mirror, which he was without a doubt very fond of.
Remus knew he was being petty. And a little bit self-conscious, maybe. Blabber Mouth was handsome, there was no doubt about it; charismatic to a fault, if you didn’t mind the overly-confident and full-of-himself type. Well built, too. Not exactly buffed, but his jacket hugged his shoulder quite nicely. Clearly rich, judging by his clothes, his watch, and his many, many stories. He had impeccable hair: luscious, sandy waves that had made Remus self-consciously run his hand in his own unruly dirt blond curls. His unwilling date seemed to share most of those fortunate characteristics. Gorgeous, fit, nice clothes, great hair — but longer, and pitch black. Though, he looked like he wished he were dead. Or at least deaf. Maybe, if he got Blabber Mouth muzzled they would match much more smoothly. Maybe that was the end game here—
Thankfully, his lavish lava cake arrived before any unwanted mental picture popped up in his brain. And, yes, he had gone straight from appetiser to dessert with a third glass of red. Don’t judge him. He had’s been stood up. He deserved that side scoop of salted caramel ice cream.
Remus was wolfing down his chocolate cake, trying not to smile too obviously at the absurdity that was still going on beside him, when a very loud and off-key rendering of Whitney Houston blasted out of Blondie’s (quite) tight jeans’ pocket. Apparently, it was a recording of a very fun, very drunk karaoke night with his very good friend Melanie Something, who was, Remus believed, someone famous enough for the bloke to feel the need to emphasize her name. He was almost surprised to hear Blond Wave excuse himself with a swish of hair to take the call outside, rather than having his conversation right here in front of his date (maybe it was to have everyone outside made aware of his very important phone call, since the brunette with the dreamy grey eyes in front of him didn’t seem to ah and oh enough for his liking — or even react anymore).
And, of course, he spoke French.
Remus could barely muffle his laughter in his fist at the very loud “Mélanie, ma chérie! Alors, t’es bien arrivée?” because how much of a cliché could this guy be? To his credit, the man with the raven hair had had the decency to wait for the other to leave the room before letting his head fall back on the banquette with the heaviest sigh Remus might have ever heard, and brought his hand on his face in an exasperated groan.
Remus tried to bite back his grin, which unfortunately didn’t go unnoticed. Ice-grey eyes laid upon him. Remus raised an apologetic hand, staring back at his plate where the last spoon full of cake bathed in melted ice cream and chocolate ganache. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh.”
“I’m not crazy, am I?” Raven Hair asked, pointing lazily at the entrance of the restaurant. “He’s a nightmare, right?”
“Well, a lot of people seem to enjoy his company,” Remus underlined with a clearly amused tone, thinking back to the many stories that featured some heavy name dropping.
The dark-haired man scowled. “Do you just go to restaurants alone to enjoy people’s pain and suffering through horrendous dates?”
“Well actually, I was supposed to be on one, but that’s the next best thing I guess.”
The stranger’s face softened. ”Oh… shite. Sorry mate.”
Remus waved a dismissive hand. “Ah, don’t worry, the cake was going to be the best thing there anyway. And I’d much rather be where I am than where you are. Not to add on to your pain but you’ve been the enjoyment of my evening.”
“Oh. Well, cheers, I’m glad my misery brought you some joy.”
Remus grinned. “Ok, I’m sorry, but come on! How are you even on a date with this guy?”
“It was a blind date. A friend set us up.”
“I hope you’re reconsidering your friendship with this person,” Remus responded with a grimace.
The stranger laughed. “To be honest, I don’t think my friend knew him that much. If at all. Probably more like… ‘hey, I saw this gay bloke at this friend’s party, want me to hook you up?’ I’m not even sure they talked – well, at least I hope not, given…” He waved his hand towards the front of the restaurant where they could see his date through the bay window, roaring with laughter, to the apparent annoyance of those who were seated outside. Though his eyes barely fleeted away from Remus’ face. It was such a striking contrast from his interaction (or lack thereof) with Blabber Mouth, as those grey eyes were intensely set on Remus, unyielding, and attentive.
“So… Your friend set you up with someone he didn’t know and you just said yes?”
“Well, that’s my fault, really. I asked him to set me up and I don’t think he knows a ton of gay guys…”
“Haven’t you heard of bars? Clubs? Dating apps? Literally anything other than blind dates organised by someone who knows no one to set you up with?”
“Ok, to his credit, that’s not the first date he has arranged for me, and they weren't all that bad. As for the rest, well I’m trying to change my ways, that’s the point!”
“How come?”
The stranger exhaled, looking away. “All right, this might sound a bit… I don’t know. It’s just—“ he sighed, a bit sheepishly before continuing, grey eyes back on Remus, “Not long ago, I had a conversation with one of my dearest friends; she has been my partner in crime for a long time. We were reminiscing over a bottle or two — or three” he admitted, “— about our past outings, our relationships, horrendous dates and best one-night-stands, and out of nowhere, she confided that… She had no interest in that anymore. In dating. But not just the crazy hook-ups: all romantic and sexual relationships in general. She had tried it all, it was fun while it lasted but right now, she longs to wake up alone in her bed, read for hours, binge watch TV shows on her own, taking care of herself… herself . She has never enjoyed doing that stuff with her various conquests as much as she did by herself."
He paused to take a sip of his cocktail, then continued. "And while she told me all that, I realised, quite suddenly that… I didn't want that right now. What she had with herself was something I wanted to share with someone. I haven’t been so much into very domestic relationships but, right then, I felt like I was suddenly craving it. Like thunderstruck, you know? I've been avoiding it for so long, it's like I didn't want to see when I started wanting it. To be completely honest, it surprised me a little bit but—”
Raven Hair stopped himself, a small sheepish smile tugging at his lips — his very pink lips, Remus noticed. “Er sorry, I’m rambling. So whatever, I went to my best mate, who knows a thing or two about domestic relationships and he agreed to try and set me up on dates.” He scrunched up his nose. “With what I hope are the only gay blokes he knows, otherwise, I can’t believe how shitty he thinks my tastes are...” He cleared his throat, probably trying to overlook his burst of honesty. “Anyway, what about you?”
“Me? Oh. Blind date too. Didn’t really ask for it, I just didn’t have the will to fight my friend on it. It felt like the less strenuous option, really, to just—”
Remus was quickly interrupted by the unmistakable honeyed voice that bid a loud French goodbye to his phone while strutting back to his table. He didn’t miss the defeated huff that his brief conversation companion let out at the arrival of his blind date.
He felt a bit bad for the bloke — Mr Intense Stare, not Mr French. He had to deal with either enduring it until it died its natural end, or until he got to squeeze a word in between two of his date's ramble to put a stop to it; while all Remus had to deal with was to find a way to drink the sugary pool of gooey chocolate and caramel in his plate while staying somewhat dignified.
Then again, it wasn't like he had a date here to judge him.
⁂
The lack of outgoings had made Remus a lightweight. Three ridiculously small glasses of wine had sufficed to make him lightheaded as he stood up too hastily to go to the bathroom, leading him to giggle silently at his own absurdity. He was not drunk, exactly, but he could feel his nose and cheeks a bit warmer than usual; all numb, and fuzzy.
It wasn’t unpleasant. If not for the slight urge to burst into small fits of giggle every once in a while. Though he was still sober enough to feel self-conscious about chuckling alone in a public bathroom, even with no ears around. But as he stumbled out of the toilet stall, he ran into the grey-eyed wet dream he had talked to earlier.
He wanted to facepalm. Wet dream, really? You need your blood back into your brain, Remus.
Not that the man wasn’t uncommonly beautiful, his own sober self would – had – agree on this, but still. Get it together.
“Oh hey!” his mouth said on its own accord. Because, yeah, why wouldn’t you say hello to strangers in the bathroom? Get a fucking grip, Lupin!
Grey Eyes seemed just as surprised, or amused, at this misplaced greeting. Remus couldn’t help noticing the height difference. It hadn't been as obvious sitting ten feet away from each other. But, if he lifted his head up a little bit, he was sure he could put his chin on top of the other man’s head.
No, don’t do that. It’s not a proper thing to do. To a stranger. In a public restroom.
“Couldn’t reach the bathroom window to run away from your date?” he added. Oh my God, please just shut up.
He could have punched himself. Thankfully, Grey Eyes didn’t. Remus might have been tall but he was closer to an elongated twig than to a fully formed adult, and this man seemed to be able to carry Remus on one shoulder with no great difficulty.
Though, after an initial surprise, he seemed to struggle biting back a grin more than a punch.
“Well, I was waiting for you to give me a lift but you forgot to bring me my jacket, so I guess I’m doomed to get back out there, thanks to you.”
Remus let out a very childish, ridiculous laugh. Which Grey Eyes graciously didn’t pick on, and turned to wash his hands instead.
Remus rubbed his face to steel himself, waiting for his turn. He could feel Raven Hair's gaze on him through the mirror.
“Couldn’t you just, fake an emergency or something?” he asked.
Grey Eyes scoffed. “Wow, I hope I’m never on a date with you,” he said with a huge grin, “you’re bloody brutal.”
“No, brutal would be to tell him exactly what I think,” Remus corrected. “I didn’t say I ever did this! Isn’t it what people do to avoid hurting each other’s feelings?”
“Yes, until it was vastly recognised that the ‘emergency call’ was a way of saying ‘I’m too cowardly to tell you that’s not gonna happen.’”
“Then how do you plan to say that to him?” Remus asked.
The brunette looked down bashfully at the paper towel in his hands, gnawing at his bottom lip.
Remus looked at the man slightly cocking his head, and the realisation dawned on Remus, making his eyebrows disappear under his curls. “No…”
The stranger’s complexion got a slight pink tinge. “Well, let that be a lesson to you: never leave for a date without having tossed one off before…”
Remus burst into giggles — wow, that was manly . “You can’t be serious!”
“Believe me: had I been sated before coming, I would have left ten minutes into the date. And that much, just to be polite.”
Remus gestured to the stall. “Why didn’t you masturbate in the bathroom, then?” He wrinkled his nose in realisation of what he had just said. “Er… No. I’m not encouraging it, but…”
Grey Eyes groaned and threw his towel in the bin. He scrunched up his nose and looked back to Remus. “Well, he’s not my soulmate alright, doesn’t mean I can’t have some fun and have to revert back to my adolescent ways!”
“You know he’s going to look at his reflection the entire time, right?”
“Well I need to get laid sometime, don’t I? Plus he’s not the worst date I’ve been on...”
“Isn’t that what this whole searching-for-Mr-Right extravaganza was all about? Changing your ways or something?”
“Yes, and it had led me to not compromise enough, and here I am, horny, and you-don’t-want-to-know-how-long since my last half-decent lay. Or since my last intercourse for that matter.”
Remus doubted the sincerity of those words. In all honesty, those lips could have dumped Blonde Waves on the spot, walked out, and asked the first fit bloke that he crossed to bend over and have his way. This was not the face of someone who unwillingly lacked sex. Or he would have had way higher standards than even the rich, handsome, annoying man in the other room.
“Oh yeah?” Remus said, disbelieving. “What, weeks? Months? Semesters?”
Grey Eyes deadpanned. “Semesters? Really?”
Remus blushed, avoiding the bloke’s eyes. “What? That... happens. Sometimes. I'm sure.” He made his way to the sink, glad for a little distraction off of him. Though he could hardly ignore the widening eyes upon him.
Nor could he ignore the tone of amusement in the brunette’s voice. “Oh… Well this explains why you get turned on by men’s bathrooms…”
“What?” Remus spluttered, looking down, alarmed, “I’m not…Th— Those are just really tight trousers!”
“Oh so you’re just that big?” Grey Eyes responded in a sarcastic tone.
Remus blushed furiously, turning towards the mirror to try avoiding eye contact. It was hard not to feel the once-over that the man did. He cursed Lily internally for the fashion advice. Stupid slim jeans. And blamed the wine for the lack of come-back to avoid the few seconds of awkward silence, only broken by Grey Eyes’ teasing voice.
“Can I make a very indecent proposition?”
⁂
Remus was in half bewilderment of what he had just agreed to.
But really, how could he have said no? Well he knew how , technically; he just didn’t know why would he have said no. Why would anyone?
Because. Come on. Not to that obscenely pink mouth. Those sweet, lascivious lips that were already pressing against the cotton of his briefs; he regretted not having had a taste of them as soon as he got pinned against the stall door, before the fine stranger had sunk to his knees.
That was probably for the better. Kissing him would have led to overthinking about what was appropriate to do and what wasn’t; trying to figure out if there was some kind of decorum to maintain for it to stay proper and respectful. He would have messed this up. He would have tried to talk and ask questions. At least this way, everything seemed inappropriate. So this was fine.
He regretted the third glass of wine, too. His senses weren’t as sharp and his sensitivity slightly diminished. And not feeling absolutely everything that this walking wet dream performed upon him seemed to be a crime.
Although, as he was freed out of his pants, somehow already half erected, he didn’t think he could have felt this tongue on his slit any better than that. It seemed like he had never felt something stronger than those lips smearing spit on his flushed prick.
God, monopolising the handicapped bathroom stall to get a one-sided blowjob from someone else’s date… Remus surely wished karma didn’t exist at this moment or he wouldn’t want to know what kind of horror would happen to him next to restore the balance of the universe. Being stood up didn’t seem like such a burden that this was how the universe had decided to repay him. Not with the fervour that bloke was going down on him.
Not only couldn’t he feel his legs anymore, as all his blood had rushed to his groin to enjoy the warmth of this mouth, but Grey Eyes made the most obscene noises, sucking him with such passion it felt like he was making art. For a second Remus felt like he himself was the most delicious dessert ever created, for being tasted, gulped down and enjoyed like that.
Because, yeah, brain, do go to those weird thoughts while you’re literally getting the fellatio of a lifetime. This absolutely is the appropriate time to compare yourself to a dessert or a fucking canvas instead of concentrating on the bliss most people can only dream about.
He shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind and looked down at the view he hadn’t even dared to peek at yet. He had no idea why. Why hasn’t he been staring at that gorgeous mess in between his legs this whole time?
Of all the blowjobs he had ever gotten in his life, he had never seen anyone so entranced in sucking his cock.
This lascivious, obscenely salivating mouth working up and down his length, letting his tongue dart out and lick its way to get some encouraging, yet slightly embarrassing praise from Remus; those long eyelashes fluttering on his flushed cheeks, making it impossible to gaze into those icy orbs; this dark, shiny hair that occasionally brushed against his hip and thigh… He had the most pressing urge to run his hand through it. He let his fingers tuck a stranded dark lock fallen on the man’s face behind his ear, just as an excuse to brush the indeed incredibly soft hair.
This was either a very bad idea or a brilliant one, as grey eyes locked with his, making Remus lose all sense of… Anything. Words. Reality. Space, time, matter, inside, outside, bathrooms. Reality was just a mouth latched on his cock and the most stunning eyes looking straight into his with lust, now. Reality was the blood rushing madly through his body and tingling every nerve on its way. Losing all his marks, his hand involuntarily tugged at the man’s hair, earning himself a deep, guttural moan.
Remus wasn’t prepared for that. He was now seeing stars, and very close to losing it. He strengthened his grip in Grey Eyes’ hair to pull him slightly away, in a vain effort to control himself.
Only now, there was an obscene Greek God kneeling at his feet, panting, looking at him unwavering, mouth hanging open, wanting, chin wet with spit and pink swollen lips brushing just so against the tip of his cock. Waiting keenly; expectantly.
Remus wanted to never forget that scene. This was going to be his mental screensaver for every self-love session in the months to come.
Very slowly, he slid his tip between the silky lips, earning himself some very eager whine. And everything disappeared again, as he started fucking into the warm, hellish paradise that was the stranger’s mouth. He got to a point where he lost awareness of the noises Grey Eyes made; of those he made. About which he couldn’t even care anymore. Not their existence, nor their potential loudness, or embarrassment. The only thing he was aware of was the warmth that spread from his groin to everywhere in his body and possibly beyond. And the tingle of his building orgasm. The stars behind his eyelids. The sense of pure ecstasy that rocked through him, growing, steadily, overwhelming him, and finally exploding as he came.
His head made a dull thud against the wall. He felt like he had blacked out for a second. Wishing for it not to have been any longer than that. He couldn’t register a thing. Everything was bliss and numbness. Only when he felt his cock sliding out of the man’s mouth did he even registered he was still in him. A small, embarrassing whimper escaped his lips. Did Grey Eyes even come? Or touch himself?
As he heard some ruffling around, Remus opened his eyes, watching as the other stood up. He couldn’t do much more than watching him stupid, with an equally stupid, dopey grin on his face, while Raven Hair looked as smouldering as ever, if a little flushed and groggy. It apparently didn’t prevent him from flashing Remus with the most infuriatingly satisfied smirk as he pulled Remus’ briefs and trousers back on and fastened his buttons.
Still feeling very orgasm-dumb, he just stood still, clueless of what had just took place; or how, or why. A sudden, small laugh escaped his lips, and he ducked his head, a bit coyly.
“Well, hum—“ Remus could feel his face blushing. “Thanks for that…”
He looked back up at Grey Eyes, unable to miss the plump, lustful wet mouth that shouldn’t be allowed on anyone; unable to help the reminiscence of where this was just a few seconds — minutes? — ago.
“My pleasure.”
And with a wink, Grey Eyes stepped out, leaving Remus to gather his thoughts and senses back.
Well, glad I accepted this date…