Chapter Text
Finally hitting a red light, Remus Lupin pressed on the brakes and allowed his tears to further blur his vision. Usually, he would've been glad for the constant stream of greens in the busy New York streets, but that evening he was driving, vision obscured by never-ending tears and contacts that couldn't help but move around. Had there been a red earlier, he would've swapped them out for the glasses in his glove compartment. But as it was, he had been unlucky that evening, and the first red light was his first stop for release. He cried loudly, hand leaving the steering wheel to come up to his face, his fingers attempting to wipe away the sadness and pain, but it was futile. He would definitely be crying in his car for the unforeseeable future. He took a shaky breath, picking his head up in anticipation of the changing light to see two twenty-something girls looking at him from the sidewalk on his right. Their eyes were wide as they witnessed a grown man have a breakdown somewhere along Madison Avenue, causing Remus to sob even harder and louder than before.
Green.
Remus thought he would be strong enough, prepared enough, mature enough--I mean, for fucks sake, he was thirty going on sixty --to attend a party at his ex-husbands new home. They had been separated for over a year, after all, even though the litigation process had taken just as much time. There were assets at play (assets were otherwise known as the life Remus thought he would be building with this man, the things Remus bought and shared believing wholeheartedly it would be forever; things Remus didn't even have when he first met a red-headed boy in college or even when he married the same one) and these assets were the sole point of contention between him and the man he once loved and trusted beyond comprehension. They were up for debate for over a year before the papers were finally filed, ink barely dry , new homes barely settled into and Remus walked into the party to see Benjy with his arm proudly around someone else.
One Week Earlier
They had met at a bar in Astoria, Remus asked Benjy to meet and explicitly asked him to 'sign the fucking divorce papers and send them to your lawyer, you know the one that you hired, fucking asshole'. Benjy showed up late, as he always did, and Remus didn't know why he expected anything less. Remus had spent 10 years waiting on the boy, now an alleged man though Remus had yet to see any qualities that proved that other than the copious amount of aftershave Benjy wore. At first, Remus thought it was cute and quirky. Remus thought Benjy was creative and unbridled and of course, he couldn't be bothered with things like punctuality, and really, that was something Remus was good at anyway. The more time Remus spent with Benjy, the more he wanted to spend the rest of his life correcting for his lack of time management and subsequently making up for lost time, especially when that making up involved a lot of sex in places they shouldn't have been having it in the first place. But now? Everything was said and done and by the time Benjy sauntered in through the door nearly a half-hour late without so much of an embarrassed look on his face or sense of urgency or courtesy text, Remus had lost all kindness and patience. The quality he once found endearing he loathed--no, that was letting him off nicely, he mega-loathed it.
"So sorry I'm late," Benjy said, flashing Remus his most charming smile. The one that used to make Remus fall to pieces.
"No you're not," Remus said briskly, bringing his gin and tonic up to his lips to take a sip.
"And here I thought we could be civil with one another."
"Civil was a half-hour ago, you know when you were supposed to be here."
"Can I at least pay for your drink?"
"No."
"Can I still get one?"
"Depends, did you sign the papers?"
"If the answer is no, do I have to move to another table?"
"If the answers no, I'm going to--"
"Relax, Re. I'm joking, they're signed."
"Don't call me that."
"That's your name."
"You're missing a syllable."
"10 years and I lose nickname privileges, huh." Benjy's dark eyebrows furrowed together, "Did I lose drinking privileges as well? I was hoping we could talk."
"We are."
"What an evening I have to look forward to then." Benjy slapped his hand on the table that he hadn't bothered to sit down at, though he had taken his coat off, hanging it on the chair with the intention of making himself comfortable. Remus sighed, watching the shorter man walk towards the bar through crowds of people, stopping to compliment women on their shoes or ask what another man was drinking. Once upon another time, Remus loved that too. He loved Benjy's ability to simply make himself fit wherever he went.
Except for when he made himself fit with Remus when they both should've known better. Years of pushing pieces together until corners were crushed and bent at odd angles, never connecting quite right and changes to the scenery had them both wondering if they were just two lonely people trying to make it in the big city, rather than meant to be. He took another sip of his drink and checked his watch.
He had told himself only an hour. Because he knew how easy it was to get sucked into the vortex that was Benjy Fenwick and his magnetism. Until Benjy, Remus didn't know it was possible to hate someone so much while still loving them, which was a dangerous combination. That and gin.
Benjy returned with a martini in his hand, sitting down at the table, "You're still here."
"I still have gin in my glass. You're not worth wasting alcohol on."
"Ouch. Point 1."
"You got point 1 for being late."
"Then we're tied." Benjy raised his glass, "Cheers?"
"To hoping we make it out without throttling one another?"
"And our failed marriage--we tried!" Benjy shrugged and took a drink out of his glass, Remus wanting to hit the bottom of it so it spilled all over his overpriced jeans. The ones he had bought with the money in their shared bank account.
Sirens.
Chatter.
Remus put his hands in the pocket of his coat as he stepped outside, the New York city fall setting in, and almost felt worse than the winter. Not so much the weather itself but the inconsistency of the season; the way the temperatures rose and fell during the day, and the way every day of the week was somehow different. Cold on Monday, warm on Tuesday, Wednesday it'd be windy and sunny at the same time, leaving Remus sweating in his jacket and his ears pink and lips chapped.
"It was great to see you, Re. Outside of a lawyer's office that is, and now we shouldn't have to go to one together again. I think that's a positive if I've ever heard one."
Remus rolled his eyes, "Yeah."
"I'm having a housewarming party for my new place next week," Benjy said, raising his arm to hail a cab, despite the N being a short walk from where they had met for drinks. Of course, he would be taking a cab; the boy stopped taking public transit the moment the first couple thousand came in from Remus' book advance. "You should come."
"Why would I do that?"
"For fun?"
"Do you know me at all?"
"I'd like to think at one point I did," he shrugged, a white cab pulling up in front of him, "Think about it. You'll like the view from the penthouse. It's near Madison. I'll send you the address." Benjy reached for the cab door, opening it and greeting the driver enthusiastically, "See you next week.
--
Remus hated parties and shouldn't have gone. He didn't know what compelled him that morning to get a haircut and buy a new outfit, thinking I'll show him I'm perfectly fine , even if the dishes piled up in Remus' sink and the laundry mountain on the floor would beg to differ. Even if the party was awful, there would be good food and god knows Remus wasn't cooking anything sensational these days. It would also be nice to see his friends, Remus thought, trying to focus on the positives when he walked into Benjy's penthouse on Madison street that got a small view of Central Park and the skyline in one sweep.
He didn't see it at first.
He made small talk with the friend he hadn't seen in months due to his own hermit tendencies when writing and when navigating divorce apparently. They returned his half-hearted smiles and self-deprecating jokes with placations that Remus could've died without ever hearing.
Just so you know, I love both you and Benjy and I'm not taking sides in this.
Remus wanted to scream that they should definitely take sides and it should definitely be his, but Remus didn't scream. Remus had never raised his voice a day in his life and he wasn't going to start at his ex-husband's housewarming party.
But then he saw Benjy with his arm around the waist of another tall man with neatly combed blonde hair and a sharp jawline. A man who was clean-shaven and well put together in contrast to Remus' facial hair which always looked scruffy no matter how hard he tried. Benjy's green eyes met his own from across the room.
Okay, here's what you're not going to do Remus:
We are not going to hit him.
We are not going to shout at him.
We are not going to name-call because you are a mature adult. Everything is handled and it's done and it's--
"Remus, you made it!" Benjy called him over, Remus crossing in four long strides, not even sparing a second glance at the blonde man. "Your hair--"
"You've got some fucking nerve Fenwick," Remus' voice came out deadly quiet, so much so that Benjy's expression shifted instantly.
"Look I--"
"What's he do, hm?"
"He's in finance."
Remus laughed bitterly, throwing his head back as he did so, "That's fucking rich . Literally. Just how you like it. Carry on, you absolute sack of shit."
"Re--"
Remus dropped the glass of wine he was holding flat onto the floor, watching the pieces shatter and the red wine spread onto Benjy's leather shoes for just a second before turning to leave, giving him the middle finger over his shoulder.
And as confident as Remus felt with that particular maneuver, he was now falling apart in his car. He cried on his way up the stairs to his apartment in Long Island City, not wanting to take the elevator and disrupt everyone who happened to ride with him, even though the stairs left him winded after the first 10 floors. Remus unlocked his door, threw his keys onto the side table, and stormed to his bedroom. Remus was the one who thought through things meticulously. It was one of the skills that made him a talented writer, being able to map out intricacies in plot points and details in settings and character arcs, but it also made him (apparently) insufferable in relationships. But he had gone to a party; he had broken a glass and spilled wine and caused a bit of a scene at the said party and now he was impulsively packing a bag. He grabbed clothes haphazardly out of his closet, stuffing them into a duffle he used primarily for weekend trips. Toiletries were gathered from the bathroom, throwing them into a plastic bag, alongside his medication, and a few books for good measure.
Laptop
Cellphone
Journal
Wallet
Keys.
A cab to JFK airport and Remus was standing in front of a desk agent, his arms folded as he sniffed up the remnants of his tears.
"How can I help you?"
"I need to get out of here."
"Uhm," the desk agent cleared her throat, taking in the sight of snot dripping out of Remus's nose and the red rimmed eyes, looking slightly panicked before typing onto her computer, giving him a forced smile, "Where did you want to go?"
"Anywhere, not here."
"And…when…?"
"Now-ish would be great ."
"Uhm, there's a flight to…Michigan into Sawyer International--"
"Into the Upper Peninsula?"
"Looks like it's leaving in 45 minutes."
"Perfect, I'll have one ticket."
He supposed it was just as well that the next reasonable flight available would take Remus to the place he had moved to New York from so many years ago. He had left the Upper Peninsula for college initially and then the visits home got…few and far between. Because money was tight because Remus wanted to work holidays at his stupid department store job to get the holiday pay; because Remus had met Benjy and Benjy had family in New York; because Remus had gotten his first book deal and was plagued with imposter syndrome and edits; but also because Remus for the first time in his life got to feel what it felt like when you finish on top. He had never felt much connection to the Upper Peninsula or the roots his parents had established there; he always felt just on the outside of this tight-knit community. Too gay? Too quiet? Too much desire inside of him to want to do something more with his life than work in his parent's restaurant or own a vintage clothing shop? All of the above. The last time Remus had been home was for his mother's funeral, and even that was a short affair--in and out within 24hours.
Remus didn't have a return flight this time.
Remus just had a duffle bag and a broken heart.
One was checked with TSA.
The other Remus was left carrying, leaving him hunched, shoulders aching at the weight of it.
Leaving him crawling around in his own skin. It was like searching for a match in a rolling blackout to get some light back, except he was searching for a light he was certain that man had snuffed out long ago.
Remus looked out the window of the plane, resting his head against the cool glass and closing his eyes.
Maybe there were still matches left behind in his parent's house.