Chapter Text
When it is time, every person eventually awakens knowing one specific detail about their soulmate on a fateful morning. You wake up one day and you just– know. That it will be hair that reminds you of the sky at night, or fingers that can play the strings of a guitar with ease, or a voice that pours into your ears deep and right.
For Remus Lupin, it was one of the clichés. He woke up one morning with eyes as sharp as glass burned into his mind, sporting a colour so specific and so right it hurt. As silver as smoke and charcoal and metal and all things not quite black. People have asked him repeatedly if he's sure it isn't a dim blue or a muted green of sort, but no. He knows.
“We're here Rem,” his mother says, turning to smile at him from the front seat of the car, already sniffling.
“Hope no,” his dad interrupts with a sigh, “I'm begging you to not cry again. If you cry, then Remus will cry, and then I will cry. And then I will likely be unable to stop.”
“He's already tearing up,” Hope stage whispers. Remus snorts. “Do you remember your dorm number, puiuț? Student ID? You packed all your socks right? And your medication? And what about–”
"Mami,” Remus cuts in gently, huffing a laugh. “I already told you I've got everything sorted. You can stop worrying.”
His dad laughs. “That's what I said on my first day of university too, before realising I'd forgotten to pack my keys.”
Hope's eyes widen. “Remus, you've got your keys right–?”
“Yes, ma.”
"Oh, thank Domnului you don't have your brilliant dad's genetics.”
"Oi!"
Half an hour later, he's waving goodbye to his parents with a tearful smile, Hope having to drag her husband away before he lunges at Remus for another 5-minute hug. He watches their car start, take off down the street and eventually turn the corner, disappearing from his sight. He stares at the corner for another minute, then takes a deep breath and turns to the gates. 2026, a year of new change for us, that's what James had said with a grin. Our year.
He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, already looking forward to meeting him later that evening. They'd been assigned different dorms, to both their dismay. Remus is already sick at just the thought of meeting his new roommate. What if he's a prick, or a creep, or a bigot, or–
“Remus Lupin?"
Remus startles, turning around to see a boy his age, looking up at him through sunglasses. He's wearing a long trench coat, hands in pockets, boots newly polished. Black curls blow wildly in the autumn wind. Remus swallows, not sure if he's intimidated or turned on. “Uh– yes? Do I know you? How do you know my name?"
The boy’s lips twitch in what seems to be amusement. “Your lanyard, if you hadn't noticed, does have your name written on it, Remus Lupin.” He holds out a hand, pale and brushed pink at the knuckles. Remus blinks before shaking it, surprised by how soft it is. “I believe you're my roommate? Unless there is another Lupin around."
Remus blinks. Well, he's not a creep. He thinks. Remus tries a smile. “You must be Black."
“That’s me," he confirms. “Are you not from around here?"
Remus grimaces. “Is it that obvious?" he asks, glancing around.
“No, no," he reassures, shaking his head. Then muses, "You more resemble a fish on land, I'd say." Remus snorts. Black laughs softly. “I'm only kidding, by the way. I'm not from around here either."
Remus laughs. "Don't worry, the Dior boots give it away. This place may be posh, but it's not that posh."
"Huh. I thought the Louis Vitton glasses would be a bigger giveaway." He reaches up and pulls off his sunglasses in one smooth motion, and
Oh.
Oh.
Eyes, as sharp as knives and broken shards of silver, stare back at him. Grey. Not blue or green or something close– grey. So, so grey.
Remus's mouth goes dry. Two years of searching, but it's fate that played its part in the end. "Your– Your first name?” he manages.
Black’s lips twitch again, suddenly softer than Remus remembers, gesturing to his own lanyard. "I do hope you can read seeing as this is a top university.” Remus forces a weak laugh. The boy folds up his sunglasses and slips them into his pocket. "Regulus Black. Nice to meet you.”
"Regulus.” The name tastes like sugar on his tongue. "Like… the star?”
Regulus raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "Yes, the star. Heart of the Leo constellation. You know astronomy? ”
“It’s the brightest in the constellation, right?” Remus blurts. He cringes internally. But Regulus simply cocks his head, curious. He continues before he can think better of it. “One of the brightest in the sky?”
Something bitter passes over Regulus’s face. “One of,” he mutters. He gestures vaguely at the university gates. "Are we planning on going in today, or?”
Remus isn't even registering half of what he's saying, heart pounding in his ears. He nods eventually, which gets Regulus Black to do that amused half smile again, and they walk in. It's gonna be a year alright.
“Remus you won't fucking believe it–”
"James you won't fucking believe it–"
They pause, then laugh. “You first," James says, taking a large sip of Red Bull. They're in Remus's dorm, inductions and introductions all over for the day. With lectures starting officially tomorrow, they've all been let off to relax. Regulus had said something about going over to his own friend, leaving the dorm, and leaving Remus to scream into his pillow for a good few minutes.
Remus takes a deep breath. “It's him, James," he says, tilting his head back, staring up at the ceiling. James frowns, confused. “Grey eyes. It's my fucking roommate.”
James's jaw drops. "No way. You're sure?”
"Yes,” Remus says with a sigh, the eyes that have been burned into his mind clear as day. And the eyes of Regulus Black, a carbon copy. "And, Jesus fuck– he's so pretty, James.”
James laughs, then keeps laughing until Remus is scrunching his eyebrows, now confused. James eventually calms down, and grabs Remus's hand. "Remus. Me too.”
Remus frowns. “You too what?"
James bites his lip to stop himself from laughing again. “Eucalyptus. That's what I smelled when it was my time, remember?"
“Yes?" Remus waits for him to elaborate. James just looks back at him, waiting. Realisation dawns. Remus's mouth hangs open. “...No way. No fucking way."
“Yes fucking way! My roommate literally told me that he uses eucalyptus soap. I had to tell him I needed to piss so I could freak out in the bathroom.”
Remus is shaking with laughter, then practically cackling, which gets James to crack up again because they've known each other forever and this couldn't be real. It takes longer for them to calm down this time. James squeezes Remus’s hand again, eyes bright behind his gold-rimmed glasses as he leans in with a breathless grin.
“Our year, Remus. Didn’t I tell you?”
Remus smiles back, unable to help it. “You’re a fucking wizard, Potter.”
James sighs wistfully. “God, you should see him, Remus. My roommate, I mean. Okay, well, he’s not… what I thought my type was, but believe me, I’m not complaining.”
Remus’s smile flickers. “James. You’re sure this isn’t another… Lily situation?”
James blinks, smile dimming. “That was different.”
“Not really.”
“She thought it was me too,” James says quietly, looking away and out of the window. “Skin the shade of warm honey, that’s how she said it. Remember?” Remus hums, watching him carefully. They’d been… the perfect story. That’s what anyone would call it. A prince and a princess, head over heels. A fairytale. After a moment, James shakes his head, and firmly says, “This is different. I can feel it. It’s the exact smell, you know. Not just the smell of eucalyptus, it’s the specific scent that’s been in my head. If you handed me Lily's perfume now, I’d know it’s not right.”
Remus nods, trusting his best friend. Worried for him, for his heart held together by weak stitches too fresh, but there’s only so much he can say. James sighs, before brightening again.
“Never mind that,” he says, grinning again. “What about yours?”
Remus groans, his face already heating. James’s eyebrows shoot up at the blush that must be spreading awfully dark. “He talks so– so pretty, James. Like, his voice and his words and his tone. And, oh my God, his hair. So pretty. And how is his skin that clear? He’s so fucking…”
“Pretty?” James finishes for him. He laughs when Remus squeezes his eyes shut and nods. “Oh, you’re gone gone.”
“You have no idea,” Remus says, shaking his head. “And his eyes! It’s the exact shade! I have never been more sure of anything. And it’s killing me.” James is about to reply with another teasing comment probably, when his phone starts ringing. Effie’s face pops up, warm and familiar.
“Oh, I’m gonna have to take this. She’d probably have a heart attack if I don’t pick up.” James stands up, stretches, and goes towards the door. “See you, Rem. Good luck!”
Remus waves, already pathetically missing his presence. “Yeah, you too.” It’s not a minute before his own phone rings too, Hope’s face lighting up the screen. He sighs fondly, picking up. She starts speaking immediately, shooting him with a million questions as if he isn’t eighteen but eight again. His dad rescues him, taking the phone away from his scandalized mum, only to be ten times worse.
He’s mid sentence, reassuring them that he has, in fact, remembered to not trip and fall out of a window, when the door clicks open. Remus falters, throat going dry again as his roommate walks in. He’s in a black button up and jeans, giving Remus a little smile as he heads to the bathroom. Remus watches him, unable to look away, as the boy runs a hand through his hair at the mirror, beginning to unbutton his shirt revealing a strip of skin before he remembers to close the door behind him, snapping Remus out of it.
“Remus? Can you still hear me?”
“Uh– sorry tati.” Remus clears his throat. “I’m here. You were just breaking up for a second.”
“I don’t buy it, that’s his flustered voice,” his mum’s voice sounds from the background. “Ask him if he’s met a cute boy yet!”
“Jesus– Remus, your mum wants to know if–”
“No,” Remus cuts in. He chews his cheek, thinks for a moment, then sighs. “Maybe.”
His mum lets out an unholy screech, before what sounds like snatching the phone from his dad. “Is he it?! Have you found him?!”
He considers lying. What if he’s wrong? Remus thinks back to when they told him their own story. How his mum had waited years for a man with a laugh she’d turned over and over in her head. How Lyall had knocked into her on the train one ordinary day and muttered an apology with a huffed laugh before he froze at the colour of the woman’s hair. But then he thinks about James, about how he and Lily were so sure. Remus swallows, staring at the bathroom door. But the eyes. God, those eyes.
He swallows. “I… think so,” he whispers. His parents gasp, Lyall already sniffling again.
“Grey eyes? The grey eyes?” Hope asks breathlessly.
Remus falls back onto the bed. “I don’t think I’ll ever find eyes any greyer.” The door clicks then, handle turning. Regulus walks out, some of his hair damp at the front, from what must have been a splash of water to freshen up. The top few buttons of his shirt are undone. Drops of water have gathered on his collarbone, stark against pale skin. He glances at Remus, before going to their kettle that sits on a mini counter. “I… have to go mami. I’ll call you back.” He puts his phone down, watching Regulus for another second before he can’t stop himself anymore. “Hi.”
Regulus turns, eyes tracing over Remus before snapping back up to his face. “Hi. Was that your parents?”
Remus nods, getting off the bed and walking over to the kettle too. He pours himself a mug, and opens a cupboard, searching for any tea bags while Regulus adds coffee powder into his. “Yeah. Just a heads up, they might call twice a day for at least the next few months.”
Regulus huffs a quiet laugh, spoon clinking against his mug as he mixes. “You speak Romanian?”
Remus pauses midway through rifling in the third cupboard. “Mother tongue, yeah. Doar mama mea totuși. Do you just, like, recognise it, or do you speak it too?” He closes the cupboard door, Regulus’s face coming into view again, who’s watching him with ears pinker than he remembers, before clearing his throat and turning back to his coffee.
“Just recognise,” Regulus says, adding in more coffee powder as if it isn’t dark enough. He shrugs. “I’m a bit of a language person.”
“Linguistics degree?” Remus guesses.
“Joint honour. BA International Relations and Modern Language.”
Well. That’s unfairly hot.
Regulus looks up after a moment of silence, raising an eyebrow at what must be Remus’s stunned expression. “What? I’m interested in politics. Et je connais déjà le français.” Remus bites his tongue to stop himself from making some embarrassing noise. “Why, what about you? Let me guess – classical studies, or something equally pretentiously philosophical and mundane?”
Remus blinks, stunned, then laughs. “Rude.” Regulus is looking at him with that curious look again. Likely wondering why Remus isn’t offended. “Also joint. BA English literature and Philosophy.”
“Called it.” Regulus snorts. He puts the spoon away. “They sound sweet. Your parents.”
Remus stares at Regulus as he lifts the mug of black liquid to his lips. “I– Yeah, unlike that coffee– Don’t you dare drink that, you didn’t even add a pinch of sugar!” he says, scandalised. Regulus blinks, surprised, before laughing and taking a sip anyway. Remus gags dramatically. “That’s literally death in a mug, Regulus.”
“It’s not bitter enough, if you ask me,” Regulus counters. He glances at the row of cupboards Remus has left open in his search now. “What are you looking for? The coffee powder’s here, I– Oh. Dear lord. Do not tell me you’re a tea person. I’d have to find a new roommate.”
Remus crosses his arms defensively. “Tea is healthy.”
Regulus scrunches his nose, unfairly adorable. “It’s, objectively, disgusting.” He puts his mug down, looking into the cupboards
“...As opposed to bean powder and water?” Remus asks flatly, which makes Regulus laugh again, and Remus resists the urge to ask him to not stop. He watches the shorter boy peer into another cupboard, before walking over to Remus and reaching for the cupboard behind him.
Remus goes still.
Regulus’s arm brushes against his shoulder, his breath ghosting over the skin of Remus’s neck as he leans in to rifle through the cupboard. He isn’t asking Remus to move. Why isn’t he asking Remus to move?
“What are you looking for?” Remus manages to say eventually, his voice strained. Regulus hums, the sound so close to his skin that he can feel it.
“Tea bags, right?” Regulus mutters, apparently very concentrated in finding said tea bags. His arm brushes Remus again. “Oh, I think I’ve found some. Black tea or green tea?”
“I– Green, but I can– I can get them,” Remus stammers. Regulus leans back a little, tilting his head up until Remus can see his eyes, and swallows. Remus stares at the movement of his throat.
“What’s that smell?” Regulus says suddenly.
“What?”
“Your cologne,” he says, voice now low, his stare darting between Remus’s eyes. The sudden change in topic once again jarring Remus as if he isn’t jarred enough. “Is that pinewood?”
Remus blinks, his mind scrambled. He tries to get them in order, to try and find an answer to Regulus’s question. He bites at his lip again, anxious, and Regulus’s breath stutters. “It’s, um– Yeah. Pinewood and rosemary.”
And Regulus’s grey, grey eyes drop to Remus’s lips.
Remus’s lips part. Regulus leans in further, before looking over Remus’s shoulder again. He reaches for a box and pulls it out, before stepping away and handing it to Remus. Remus takes it dazedly, mind refusing to register anything his body is doing. He pulls at the box. Regulus doesn’t let go of it. “You know, Remus,” he says quietly, eyes still fixed on Remus’s lips like they’re the answer to a question. “The walls are quite thin in these dormitories.”
“Yeah?” Remus mumbles, focused on Regulus’s fingers brushing Remus’s as they both hold the box of tea bags like it means something more.
“Yes,” Regulus says with a hum, stepping close again, this time deliberately, unless it was always deliberately. His collarbones are still adorned with water droplets that look back at Remus knowingly. “Sound gets through really easily.”
“Really?” Remus breathes absentmindedly, his thumb brushing over Regulus’s. Regulus stares at him. It takes a moment. Maybe two. Remus freezes. “Wait–”
“Grey eyes, you said?” Regulus tilts his head to the side, collarbones still damp, eyes still grey, lips inches away from Remus’s, breath flickering warmly on Remus’s skin like a memory to be made.
Remus opens his mouth. No words come out. Closes it. Opens. Tries again. “I… said that I don’t think I’ll find eyes any greyer.” His voice comes out barely a hoarse whisper, sounding more like a vow.
Regulus exhales slowly. He puts the box away, before bracing his hands on either side of Remus against the counter.
“No?”
Remus shakes his head. “No.”
Regulus’s tongue darts out to wet his lips. He looks up at him through dark lashes, and he says– god, he says– “Pinewood, Remus. That’s mine.”
“Yours?” Remus whispers.
Regulus nods with a hum, thumb brushing circles into Remus’s wrist. “Mine.”
And their starved lips close whatever little distance remained.
It definitely starts sweet.
Regulus remembers meeting his lips, and now they can't stop kissing, and holy shit this is his soulmate and that encompasses something they’ll never fully understand but they’re kissing– Regulus is kissing his goddamn soulmate and he tastes. So. Sweet.
His soulmate Remus Lupin lets out a little whine against his lips.
So soft, so warm, so beautiful.
It makes Regulus want to bite down. To drag his teeth across Remus’s lips and make him beg for more. To sink them into the corner of Remus’s mouth and swallow every single sound the taller boy makes. So he does.
Remus lets out a quiet moan at that, low and sinful. It makes Regulus pull back, because in that moment he wants to do nothing more than drink in the moment Remus becomes undone. Remus stares back at him, breathing hard. And then Regulus is twisted around and pressed up against the counter taking Remus’s place, and Remus drags his tongue across his collarbone before he can even gasp. Regulus squeezes his eyes shut, hands finding Remus’s hair and pushing his head down further.
It’s like a switch has been flipped.
Remus lets out an unholy laugh into his bruising skin, and lets Regulus push him down, down, down until he falls to his knees with a thud, looking up at Regulus through autumn eyes almost tearing up with lust. “Regulus.”
“Remus,” Regulus breathes, because he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to say anything else ever again. Remus licks his lips, looking up at him like a man famished, Regulus’s hands still firmly tangled in his hair. He reaches up, fingers skimming Regulus’s thighs before hovering at the hem of his jeans. Regulus bites his lip. Fuck, here it comes. “I’m trans, Remus.”
“You’re beautiful,” Remus responds, like that’s the same. Regulus barely blinks before Remus reaches up and presses a kiss into his ribs. Regulus wants the feeling permanently etched into the bone of his ribcage. Remus sinks back down onto his knees. Hand back at the button of his jeans. A question in his eyes.
Regulus has never nodded so fast.
Remus pulls down the zipper, the sound echoing amidst their heavy breaths, tugging down the fabric. His fingers brush feather-light right over where he wants him most, breath right there.
“Please– god, Remus– please–”
“I’ll need words, love.”
Regulus almost sobs. “Yes,” he chokes out. “Yes, yes, yes–”
Regulus is cut off with a gasp, a gasp that draws out into a moan which Remus pulls out of him, tongue diving into Regulus feverishly. “So fucking pretty, aren’t you baby?” Remus breathes out in between, words whispered right into Regulus like prayers. “So good for me, yeah?”
“I am,” Regulus agrees, nodding immediately. Anything you say, everything you say. His grip tightens, likely painful for Remus’s scalp, but the man only laughs into Regulus’s skin as if he isn’t actively unravelling him. “For you, all for– fuck– just you, Remus–”
“You’re such a tease, you know that?” Remus mumbles, cutting him off as fingers drag across where his lips had been moments before. Regulus tips his head back, mouth open in a silent scream. “Unbuttoning your shirt. Forgetting to close the bathroom door. It was on purpose, wasn’t it?”
“I–” he gasps again, trembling. He presses down against the fingers, over and over, almost dizzy with pleasure. “Remus, I need to– Oh– I need–”
Remus’s fingers slow down, cruelly. Regulus’s head drops, pulling at Remus’s hair as if begging for mercy, because he is. “All deliberate. Wasn’t it, love?” Remus asks, mouthing at the wetness that’s now lacing his inner thigh.
“Remus–”
Remus pulls away entirely, leaving Regulus to whine and shift his hips to try to find friction, but finding only air. He tries to close his legs in an attempt to feel something, anything. When Remus reaches up and pushes them further apart.
Regulus sobs.
“It was,” he admits frantically. “It was, it was, I just–”
Remus smirks slowly despite the blush across his cheeks, leaning up to blow nothing but air between his legs, warm and nowhere near enough. Regulus screws his eyes shut, back arching, while the other stays almost entirely composed. “I'm gonna take you to bed," Remus mumbles into his thigh. "Listen to you beg under me. You have such a way with words, after all.”
“I will," Regulus promises, nearly pushing into Remus's mouth because he's right there and refuses to give Regulus what he wants. "I'll beg, I'll– mon Dieu– I'll be so good for you.”
“Yeah?"
Regulus nods hysterically, letting go of the death grip he's had on Remus's hair for a while now. Remus kisses his knuckles, stands, and then they're kissing again. Regulus sighs against him, realising it's himself he's tasting on the other boy’s tongue, lips, everywhere. And at that thought, Regulus drags Remus over, sending them both tumbling into the bed.
Regulus ends up above him.
Remus's smirk fades into something of awe as he swallows thickly. It makes Regulus feel drunk. He straddles him, sinking down onto the obvious tent in Remus's jeans, finally chasing what he wanted. Remus's mouth falls open in a choked whine, his hips rising up to match his pace. “Regulus– fuck– let me take off my jeans,” he breathes. Regulus’s lips curve into a wicked smirk, one that makes Remus whine louder while throwing his head back in frustration. "Regulus– Love–"
“Beg a little," Regulus suggests in between moans, close now. “You have such a way with words after all, don't you, baby?"
“Nu îndrăzni– Don't you dare,” Remus grits out, hips speeding up but still not enough for him. Regulus grins, not slowing his own movements as he tugs down the collar of Remus's T-shirt just enough to bite at his shoulder. Remus's eyes roll back into his head, the sight devastating, and gives in. “Please– I need it off Regulus– I'll do anything, baby please–”
Regulus grins victoriously, giving him one more bruise before shifting away to make quick work of the zipper, ripping at all the layers until there's nothing but skin and bedsheets between their lower halves. He climbs back on, reaching down to kiss Remus on the lips with fervour returned. Remus thumbs at his hipbones again, pressing up against him. Regulus bites down at the line of the boy's scarred jaw as pain blooms for a moment, before it breaks and floods into something else entirely.
“Faster, more, please– please–” Remus gasps out. Regulus obeys, abandoning all other thought. Remus is thrusting up without abandon, breathing ragged, when his thumb slides down to where their bodies meet, finds the right spot, and presses against it.
Regulus's vision goes white.
“Right–Right there baby– C'est ça-” Regulus pants. “Plus fort.”
“Regulus– Regulus I'm gonna–” Remus pants, turning his face to press it into the pillow. “I'm–Oh–”
Regulus watches how his skin flushes, sheened with sweat. How his damp curls stick to his forehead. How his red bruised lips stay parted as he gasps for breath, as thoroughly ruined as Regulus is. And he takes Remus's chin in his hand and tilts it firmly away from the pillow so he's facing him again. His eyes flutter open, immediately locking onto grey ones. Regulus’s thumb slips through Remus’s lips. “Let go for me."
Remus lets out a truly obscene moan, back arching completely off the bed as he lets himself crash into the high he's been chasing. At the sound, Regulus can't hold much longer either, nails digging crescents into Remus's shoulder as he collapses into a mess of moans himself. "Can I– Can I keep going?” Regulus asks, strained, as if he isn't still continuing anyway while Remus rides the waves of his peak.
Remus eyes him, spent now, drinking him in greedily. He must look a mess, black buttoned shirt rumpled, sleeves pushed up, curls wild, legs shaking on either side of Remus. Regulus forces himself to slow down, waiting for an answer, and whining pathetically when Remus just huffs out a rough laugh, low and strangled. "God, you're a mess–” Remus moans again, shaking through another wave of his climax. His hands on Regulus's waist tighten, nails digging in a way that feels so good. And then he lifts Regulus up by the hips, and pulls him back down.
Regulus's mouth falls open. Stars burst behind his eyes. He nods and gasps, begging something incoherent. Remus increases his pace, over and over, until Regulus’s body falls forward onto Remus's, unable to hold himself up anymore, moaning right into Remus's neck now, and then he's biting down, finally rewarded with the peak of his pleasure crashing into him without warning. The two boys become thoroughly undone with their limbs entangled, and it isn’t sweet.
It's filthy.
And it feels so good.
James looks up as the door opens. His roommate walks in, tilting his head when he sees James.
“Weren't you gonna go talk to your friend? Remus, right?" he asks, kicking off his shoes. James hums, entranced, curious, anxious.
“I did," he replies. “My mum ended up calling though, so it got cut short. What about your friend?"
"We did talk, until her situationship rudely decided to interrupt.” He rolls his eyes, mock annoyed, before coming over to the beds, sitting on his own that's closer to the windows. He glances at James. “You alright mate? You look flushed."
"Uh– yeah, yeah.” James clears his throat, trying to figure out what to say. Eucalyptus, that's mine. I'm begging you to tell me yours. The question burns on his tongue, maddening. Instead he goes, "Didn't you say your brother's here too? You're not meeting him?"
The boy snorts, pulling black curls up into a bun with pale fingers and a star hairclip. "That little shit? No, he specifically texted me saying he's busy.”
“Busy already?" James asks with a laugh. “On the first day? With what?"
His roommate, Sirius Black, laughs as well.
“Who knows."