#god i should star working on the top 5 wolfstar now
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sunseekerstarchaser · 2 years ago
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Sunseeker First Challenge
I want to be the friend you fall hopelessly in love with. The one you take into your arms and into your bed and into the private world you keep trapped in your head. I want to be that kind of friend. The one who will memorize the things you say as well as the shape of your lips when you say them. I want to know every curve, every freckle, every shiver of your body. I want to know where to touch you, I want to know how to touch you. I want to convince you to design a smile just for me. Yes, i do want to be your friend. I want to be your best friend in the entire world .- x
↳ Top 10 (Part 3)
A String of Consequences by semistrawberry
Carpe Noctem by evareinadeescocia
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impishtubist · 1 year ago
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20 QUESTIONS FOR FIC WRITERS
I was tagged by seven of you (!!!) so here are my answers. Consider this an open tag, I have no idea who hasn't done this yet.
---
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
222 if you don't count the hidden ones, 245 if you do.
2. What's your total AO3 word count?
1.5 million (this does count the hidden ones because I'm too lazy to go subtract them from the total).
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Currently HP and Good Omens, but I've written for 16 fandoms over the years, and you never know which one I'll go back to.
4. Top 5 fics by kudos?
-Finding Home (no longer available)
-the spaces between
-Da Capo (no longer available)
-Courtship Rituals (no longer available)
-quicken to the new life (no longer available)
5. Do you respond to comments?
Sometimes. I go through fits and spurts of either responding to every single comment, or responding to none. It doesn't mean I don't appreciate comments! But I'm already writing and posting fics for free, and responding to every comment is something that I don't always have the time or mental space for.
6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Fuck, idk. I don't know what's angst and what isn't. The Fall of Gods, maybe.
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
I write a lot of fluff, actually! Idk how I got a reputation as an angst writer, smh. The Trouble With Quidditch is pretty fluffy.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
Oh, sure. But it gets deleted.
9. Do you write smut?
Begrudgingly. It's extremely demoralizing as a writer to know that the only way a fic is going to get attention is if you put smut in it, so I do it sometimes just for the kudos/comments. But I hate every second of writing it.
10. Do you write crossovers?
Yep. I've done a HP/GO one, and some cracky Sherlock/Star Trek ones, and probably a few others I can't remember.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I know of!
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Yep, several of them into different languages.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Yes! @allcanonisrelative is probably the person I've written with the most, but I've written with others as well.
14. What's your all-time favourite ship?
This changes by the hour so I literally can't answer this question. Maybe Aziraphale/Crowley?
15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?
Hm, I have a few unfinished fics on AO3, but I've already admitted that those won't be finished. I have a Sirius/Bellatrix + Sirius/Remus fic in my drafts folder that it would be nice to finish someday, but that will have to wait until I feel like writing Wolfstar again (which will probably be never, thanks to the Remus apologists).
16. What are your writing strengths?
None.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Everything.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?
Well, I know that it used to be standard that you would italicize it, and now you're not supposed to do that, so I no longer do. I also think that you shouldn't translate it! Especially not right there in the same line on the fic. If you're writing dialogue in another language, context clues should tell us enough about what the characters are saying that translation isn't needed.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Star Trek: TNG.
20. Favourite fic you've ever written?
I never like anything I write, so idk. Price of Memory, maybe, because that one was at least a lot of fun to write.
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professor-riddikulus · 7 years ago
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Craigslist - Ch 2
Summary: James and Sirius are looking for a roommate for their Los Angeles house - Remus has just moved from Dublin needs a place to rent while he goes to graduate school. One Craigslist ad later, the three of them find themselves living together and shit is bound to get complicated. Featuring trans Remus and the wonder of Wolfstar.
Author’s Note: I know it has been a long time friends, but I’m back! Hooray summer! I hope to be updating this more regularly now that all those pesky seminar papers are completed. I am sorry for what I assume is going to be the ridiculousness of this chapter. As you probably know, Sirius cannot be contained. Anyway, enjoy! 
You can also read this story on FF.net or Ao3 if your heart desires
It took an hour for Sirius to take a shower and get ready, during which time Padfoot and I watched several episodes of some cracked-out show called The Amazing World of Gumball and I did the cereal dishes that Sirius had left behind. He came jauntily down the stairs, hair tied back and still damp, a loose black muscle tank on that showed too much of his strong tattooed arms, too much of his lean muscled torso. I tried not to stare. I probably failed miserably because he looked pleased with himself.
“I assume,” he said flipping his keys from one hand to another, “that we're not taking the bike?”
“Your motorbike? Nah I don't particularly feel like dying this afternoon.”
He made a noise somewhere between a snicker and an indignant huff.
“Fine the car then. But I warn you, it's a few years old.”
I, of course, assumed that he meant a few years old like Lily meant a few years old when she talked about her 10 year old crappy Prius. What he actually meant was a black Mercedes S-Class that probably cost more than four years of my graduate stipend and that was exactly 3 years old. It was so beautiful that I was actually nervous to sit in the seat. Opulence in most forms makes me uncomfortable -- my parents always made a tidy living but I was always the kid putting away coins for a rainy day. The responsible one. Some people are built to be pampered, can adjust to being treated like kings, to throwing caution to the wind. I never felt comfortable indulging -- instead I was the kid who didn’t want anyone to look at him when they sang a the happy birthday song. It isn’t shyness not really, it’s well, wanting to fly under the radar I suppose. Showing off what you have draws attention.
I just looked at Sirius and I knew this wasn’t him. He stood taller than me but his posture was proud. He wasn’t afraid to take up space, wasn’t afraid to be noticed. He had no idea that taking up that space, taking up oxygen, meant taking it from someone else. I was stiff and trying not to move my dirty shoes too much on the carpet, Sirius on the other hand was completely at ease, his ripped skinny jeans clashing with the dark brown leather of the seats. He was leaned back, reclined like his body itself was used to luxury. Watching him driving the 5 with his sunglasses on, singing along to some mindless pop tune, I had the distinct feeling that Los Angeles was not going to be anything like I expected. Sure they said it was a town for movie stars, but it’s difficult to understand how value works here. Some people have so much they don’t even notice how much they have. Sirius certainly didn’t. This guy, this house, it wasn't like being in another country. I have been to France once, and nobody there even spoke the language that I spoke, yet I still felt like less of an alien. How rich was this guy?
I looked down at my Target t-shirt, one that Lily and I had picked out only a few days before. It was my favorite, but next to the glamour of the car, the palm trees, and the guy sitting next to me I felt distinctly shabby. It wasn’t like I was usually fashion-forward. I do my best to stay at least a bit put together but I’m not a trend-setter. I’m sure his pants cost the same as my whole outfit. Probably more, actually. I tried to shake myself, there was no reason to be ashamed, and in any case he was the one being stupid by buying such an expensive car. I sighed, if I had that kind of money, even a quarter of that kind of money, there are so many other things I’d be doing with it. I’d be giving back to the community, I’d be working for a nonprofit, I’d be paying off my student loans. I’d be doing something, anything, other than buying a car that might be the price of a house anywhere else. The very thought of it made my nerves feel frayed. I was going to be living around this kind of wealth, benefitting from it even.
I looked over at Sirius, whose grin slipped a bit at what must have been a concerned or frustrated look on my face but which he quickly replaced the grin. Perhaps he didn’t want me to see his concern?
“You don’t like Drake? We can change the radio to something else?”
“Don’t worry mate, I’m good. Your car is really something.”
“Yeah it’s pretty okay. I bought it as a graduation present to myself.”
“Oh? Where did you do your undergraduate degree?”
“James and I went to USC together, that’s where you’re going, right?”
“Yeah,” I grinned to myself, I hadn’t even considered that Sirius had gone to college at all somehow, but if he did, USC didn’t surprise me. Lily told me that it had a bit of a reputation for being a school for rich American kids, especially west coast kids -- those Orange County, Beverly Hills, Malibu, rich kids -- someone like Sirius I guess, “I guess you’ll have to show me around at some point.”
“You’ll figure it out quick, s’not a big campus.”
I paused, weighing my options a bit. I chewed the inside of my lip. You’re being a coward Remus Lupin. He’s not going to think anything. “So,” I let the word hang in the air a bit, “do they have, erm, a big queer community there? Like among the undergraduates at least?”
Sirius smirked at me, “Are we gonna have that talk?”
I panicked, “What? What talk?!”
“I mean the, ‘oh-here’s-how-I-came-out’ talk. The ‘I’m-gay-you’re-gay’ talk. The ‘do-you-have-a-boyfriend’ talk.”
“I see no reason why we have to. All that is pretty obvious isn’t it?” I picked at the stray thread sticking out from the knee of my jeans but I could feel him looking back and forth from the road to me, trying to catch my eyes. I was embarrassed for a reason I couldn’t quite explain, sweating a bit, and not because of the heat. He looked at me like he was trying to read me, like he was regarding a particularly interesting painting and he wanted to examine the individual brush strokes. I felt on display under such scrutiny, exposed even, but I forced my eyes back up to his. He wasn’t going to see me squirm. I wasn’t going to let him affect me. He was just some spoiled kid from southern California. I was going to hold my own.
Sirius smiled, “Maybe not that last one. You haven’t picked up some all-American boy, swooned by the lilting accent of Mother Ireland?”
“Excuse me?” I laughed so hard at this abrupt shift that I needed a minute to compose myself, “What even are you?”
“I told you, wolfboy, I’m a star.”
“You’re something, that’s for sure.”
“Something amazing. It’s okay, I understand, words fail you.”
I shook my head at this, how I was supposed to continue the conversation after that, I had no idea. I had the distinct feeling that what was happening was something of a face off. He was taking the measure of me, wanted to see if I was going to keep up with him. It was the same feeling that I had when he fired his ‘interview’ questions at me. It was like dealing with a toddler that wanted to see how far he could push the rules. Luckily, I’m stubborn, and I’ve always loved a challenge. When I didn’t say anything, Sirius didn’t seem to have a hard time filling the void. He probably would have talked to the empty seat if I hadn’t been there.
“Yeah, it’s badass that you’re a big queer though. I was getting annoyed being the only rainbow unicorn in the house. Now we finally outnumber James and his dirty fucking heterosexuality.”
I laughed a little, “Yeah. In case he tries to convert us, strength in numbers and all that.”
“Oh don’t worry, he’s way beyond that. Literally all our friends are queer, he always complains there’s never anyone for him to date because all our female friends are lezzies. Dude that reminds me, we should definitely have a pool party to welcome you to the family.”
Literally anything but a pool party. Pool parties meant swimming which meant swimwear and I didn’t think we were going to be at that point for quite a while, if at all, really.
“I dunno, maybe in a little bit when I get settled and get the furniture built and everything.”
Sirius shrugged and ran a hand along the top of his head, pushing back the strands of dark hair that had fallen around his face, I think it was the first time that I hadn’t seen him smiling and I wondered if I had wounded him, “Yeah, ‘course. Whatever you want.”
We pulled up to the Ikea in Burbank and parked, and Sirius looked at me, wide-eyed and stunned. “Don’t fuck with me Remus, this…” he gestured to the giant blue and yellow building in front of us that was the biggest one I’d ever seen, “this is a fucking furniture store?! It looks like several goddamn airplane hangers put together.”
“Just you wait,” I told him unbuckling my seatbelt, “I have a feeling you’re going to lose it.”
I was not wrong.
“This is fucking NUTS!” Sirius leaned dangerously far over the escalator as we took it up to the second floor to start making our way through the maze of mock rooms that made up the Ikea showroom. I pulled on the back of his shirt, trying not to be distracted by the amount of tan skin this action revealed.
“You’re going to kill yourself. God Sirius don’t lean that far over.”
“Okay Dad sorry.” Sirius snickered but he stopped leaning over the escalator.
When we got to the top Sirius’ eyes lit up as he surveyed the floor full of mock-rooms and tiny apartments. “YOU COULD LIVE HERE!” He nearly ran to the first room, threw himself on the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table. I rolled my eyes and picked up a pencil and pad to record the numbers of the furniture. When I walked over to Sirius he was wiggling his feet and looking incredibly pleased.
“It’s like a goddamn Swedish Disneyland dude.”
I laughed, “And like Disneyland, we’ve got a long way to go, you can’t spend ten minutes sitting on every couch along the way.”
“This one is comfy though, you should get it.”
I turned over the ticket and laughed, “No way, it’s almost two thousand dollars.”
Sirius’ eyes got, if possible, even wider, “That’s it?! Dude that’s hella cheap.”
“Not at Ikea Sirius, you’ve got a lot to learn.”
“It gets cheaper?”
“Jesus you’re spoiled aren’t you?”
“Yeah well, I’m amazing so…”
“You’ve got to be kidding with me.”
Sirius looked me dead in the eyes from his slouched perch on the couch, “Absolutely not, I’m completely Sirius.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” I said exasperatedly, throwing up my hands a bit dramatically and trying to hide a smile, “I’m leaving your punny ass here.” I didn’t want to laugh but something about his mix of monetary ignorance and over-the-top childish antics meant that I couldn’t help it. You are not supposed to find him funny. He is a complete wank. He wants you to laugh, wants the attention. Don’t you fall for it. I wasn’t going to be just another sad sack who gave Sirius Black attention, even if I wanted to be. I started walking away towards the next room, which had a smaller sofa with shelves built into the side and back that was a bit more my style.
Sirius jogged to catch up with me and threw an arm around my shoulders, he was a few inches taller than me with a much longer torso and so his arm fit comfortably there. He smelled good, like rain and wood and cigarette smoke. “No one ever leaves my ass Lupin.”
“This is going to be a long day if you don’t focus and help me pick out furniture.”
“Okay,” he said with mock composure, “I promise to be on my best behavior.”
His best behavior it turned out, involved pretending that each room was part of his house, picking up everything that wasn’t tied down, arguing with me about the color of the upholstery, trying to wear curtains like a toga, spinning around on the desk chairs, forcing me to lay next to him on every mattress, climbing through (and getting stuck in) the children's tunnel, and generally making a fool of himself. I tried to contain the damage, shooting apologizing looks at passerby and generally steering him away from irate employees but it was difficult to try to pretend to be stern with him when I was snorting with laughter. When I pointed out that people were staring, he just responded shrugging and laughing “of course they’re staring, we’re gorgeous”. He was an idiot for sure, but you had to admire him for his general lack of fucks.   
“I can’t afford that one, Black!” Sirius was sitting on the edge of one of the nicer beds in the showroom. This one was a mid tone warm wood with a dark blue upholstered headboard that looked like a lovely place to lean back on while reading a book. I really did like it, and so arguing with Sirius about why I wasn’t going to buy it was proving to be difficult.
“Remus it is only $499. And it’s the bed! It is the literal centerpiece of your life, sleeping, watching TV, fuck--”
“OKAY OKAY shut up oh my god those people are giving us the boss eyes.” I cut him off as a posh looking couple with a little girl hastily pulled her away from the madman and his terrible language, “Look Sirius I have to buy a whole bedroom and living room/office I can’t get the exact one I want of everything.”
“I’m just saying that other bed you wrote down looks like it would break if you were using it properly.” He had a point here, but the metal one was $350 less and that was a large amount of money for some fake wood.
I laughed and felt my cheeks getting hot, “I don’t think we have to worry about me using it for anything other than sleeping.”
“Please. You’re going to get so much fucking play in Los Angeles dude. You’re fucking cute.”
“Okay but we were talking about the bed.”
“Ahhhh,” Sirius looked satisfied with himself, one hand on his hip, “You can’t take a compliment can you?”
I was absolutely bright red at this point. I felt like his eyes were appraising me. I knew that look, I’d seen it before. “Sirius focus, the bed.”
“Well I still say you gotta splurge on the bed,” he said and he started cracking up, “Oh my GOD that sounded SO WRONG!” Then he laugh-snorted so loudly that across the aisle a woman started giggling. I laughed so hard I was crying and had to sit down next to him on the bed. It was several minutes before the two of us even calmed down enough to speak to one another and I was wiping the tears from my eyes with the back of my arm.
“Okay Lupin, I’m buying the bed.”
“What? You are not.”
“We’re roomies now right? Family. And I fuckin’ like you.”
“I mean I like you too so far--”
“So far? Fuck the hell off.” He looked actually offended so I tried once again to redirect his attention to the task at hand.
“I just mean it’s $500 Sirius. I can’t accept that, we barely know each other.”
“Just let me buy you a house warming gift. Stop making such a big fucking deal over it. It’s just money.”
“I can’t Sirius. It’s just too much money.”
“Okay well I’m buying this bed because the headboard is dope and I know you like it a ton more than the other one, AND because I’ve jumped on it and know it’s sturdy enough,” And the cheeky bastard winked at me again, “So if you buy that other shitty $150 one you’ll have two beds and I know that back house is spacious but I don’t think two queen beds would fit in it.”
What was I going to say? I could already tell by the way that he drew himself up when he said it, the way his tone shifted to all-business, (and I turned out to be right) that Sirius wasn’t the kind of person who takes no for an answer. He gave orders like someone that was used to having those orders obeyed. Someone who had heard ‘yes’ a few too many times. When he gets his mind stuck on something there’s no moving him. So I sighed and smiled at him.
“Okay. Thank you. I don’t know what to say.”
He stood, took the pencil from my hand and wrote down the number of the new bed on the pad that already had a long list of the other furniture I was buying. “Thank you will do, Lupin. Now let’s go get the last few things, you told me there’s ice cream at the end of this and I am all about that.”
He complained all the way through picking out rugs and curtains and throw pillows (I really like throw pillows okay?) but when we got to actually picking up all the boxes from the warehouse the biggest problem I had was trying not to just stand there and watch him load cart after cart with heavy boxes. Give me a break, yeah? He was showing a lot of skin and I’m on a lot of testosterone. Together we wheeled the loaded carts to the delivery counter (and went back for two more). A little more than $3,500 later, I had a bed, couch, bedside table, desk, two chairs, two rugs, coffee table, lights, shelves, TV stand, dresser, sheets and towels, comforter, curtains, throw pillows, a large cactus Sirius was calling “the scary phallus”, and even a warm blanket that reminded me of one of my favorite old jumpers. I had only spend so much money at once one other time in my life, when I bought a shitty old car my first year of uni from a kid that I had a crush on at the time. The car worked out, the crush...not so much.
I treated Sirius to an ice cream, which I figured was less than he deserved after spending five hours with me in Ikea and buying me a bed. But it was the most that he’d accept. I didn’t know what else to do. But he seemed happy enough, he did flush a bit red when I wouldn’t stop thanking him, so I guess he appreciated it even if he told me to “shut the actual fuck up”. Somehow he was still full of energy even after lifting hundreds of pounds of furniture and walking all over the certifiably biggest Ikea in the country. If I had been worried about how nice his car was on the way there, I worried less on the way back, leaning back into the incredibly soft seats and putting my head back felt like a reward after carting box after box to the delivery desk.
Sirius looked over and grinned, “Big day huh?”
I nodded, “I’m glad I only have one day until the mattress shows up, today has been a lot. The moving and the shopping and your bolloxology.”
“Um excuse me?” He laughed, “What the actual fuck did you just call me?”
“Bolloxology, you know, messing about. Your BS.”
“Holy fuck that is a ridiculous word.”
“You’re a ridiculous word.”
“Oh fantastic comeback, real smart. I can see why they let you into a PhD program.”
“You are such a muppet, and yes before you ask it means you’re an idiot.”
Sirius grinned, I had the distinct impression that he took most insults as if they were compliments -- a trait which made him infinitely charming, and infinitely frustrating at the same time. He turned up the radio and some alternative rock band was playing. As we sat quietly in traffic on the 5, the sun started to set, and it glinted deep red off the building windows, bathing the car in a warm light. It felt like we were glowing, the windows rolled down, the air just a touch stagnant between the hot cars. I felt a pang of homesickness. It was so different from the cloudy, misty-cool nights of Dublin, the old stone streets, the bustle of Grafton, the smell of the grass and trees in the park across from my favorite pub. I missed my warm jumpers with the permanent smell of tea clinging to them, the cigarette smoke hanging lazily in the air around the corner shop, proper chocolate. I missed stumbling out of The George at 3am scuttered as fuck all with my mates Sean and Frankie after a drag show and a heavy drinking session.  
As excited as I was about the new furniture, the new graduate program, the new friends and colleagues, the new roommates even, there was something sad about the perfect California horizon reflecting the last glimpses of the day. Something huge and daunting about the hot city that made me feel a bit lost, as if between the picture perfect landscape and the rubbish in the gutter there was a facade that frightened and excited me in equal measure. It was all just so big. And I was holding on to a runaway train -- Los Angeles felt like a million miles away from home. This was what it felt like, I thought a bit ruefully, to be homesick. This was also what it felt like to make something of yourself.
We arrived back at the house when it was dark, after stopping to pick up food for a whiny James who was bored without Sirius around to annoy him. When we pulled up to the house I smiled, I still could not believe that somehow I’d gotten a spot in this mansion. I was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for them to find out who I was -- emphasis on the was -- but maybe they were the good sort. Maybe…
Sirius opened the door, I didn’t have a key to the front house yet, and Padfoot came bounding out. James, hair wild, glasses halfway down his nose, was sitting on the couch in front of Comedy Central working on his laptop. He lit up when he saw Sirius which I thought was sweet until--
“FOOD!” He exclaimed gleefully. “Fucking finally! Oh god is that Golden Hen?! Yesssss.”
Sirius and I passed him several containers of Chinese food and he ate faster than I thought was humanly possible. How he could eat the amount meant for a medium sized family and be as thin as he was I have no idea. I've since learned that James is a human garbage can and his jittery, always-in-motion body consumes calories at an unbelievable rate. Some guys get all the luck.
“How did it go at Ikea?” He asked through a mouth of vegetable fried rice.
“I think it was quite an education for Sirius.”
“Did you know they have ICE CREAM there dude?! It's amazing it's huge and they have all these tiny apartments in it and they sell like pots and pans for like five dollars!”
“Yeah,” James replied nonchalantly, digging through a new container of food, “I went with the Dork when she and Marlene got their new place.”
“I saw their couch!”
“Sorry, who?” I looked confusedly from one loudly chewing roommate to the other.
“Oh!” Sirius dropped the spring roll he was holding. “James we should have them over tomorrow when Wolfram here has all his furniture delivered.” The conversation was getting further and further from something that I could track, it was like they were speaking their own language.
“Sorry,” I said, wincing at the apology, “but who are we talking about, and erm...did you just call me Wolfram?”
Sirius shrugged but there was a slyness to his eyes. “Marls and the Dork--”
But James cut in, “Marlene and Dorcas are our lesbian friends. Marlene went to high school with Sirius and I, and she picked up a girlfriend up in Berkeley. Marlene and Sirius used to date before they both caught the gay so they’re still weirdly in love with one another.”
Sirius shrugged again, “She’s a fucking bombshell, who wouldn’t be fond of her?”
“I certainly am, too bad she’s given up guys.”
I laughed at James, “Not for her, statistically women who have sex with women have way more orgasms.”
James looked affronted, “Okay, listen to PhD over here. But I’ll have you know, I’m a giver.”
“Where you stick your dick is neither here nor there --” Sirius started, but I cut him off.
“Yeah, apparently it’s nowhere at all.”
James threw a fortune cookie at me but I dodged left quickly enough that it merely hit the couch behind me. Sirius laughed so hard that he almost spilt his beer, “Well he’s got you figured out hasn’t he?”
James looked at him through narrowed eyes but said nothing so Sirius eventually lapsed into a teary-eyed silence. “Okay okay, but for real Marlene and Dorcas should come over tomorrow cause we can all build Remus’ furniture together. We were going to plan a party to welcome Remus to the family but maybe just do this on the DL. Don’t want to scare him too much.”
“You really don’t have to do that.” The last thing I needed was to be the center of attention. I wasn’t even adjusted to the two guys I had moved in with. Now I had to worry about impressing their friends? And I hadn’t had a moment to myself. I really thought I’d be building by myself, maybe some Netflix on my computer. But what was I supposed to say? They wanted to be nice. They wanted to make an effort. Come on Remus. You can’t move all the way to America and then not make a fucking effort to be social.
“I mean we don’t have to do anything dude. We’re doing this because you seem cool and we like to have a good time.” James grinned and ran a hand through his hair which left a piece of rice along his temple. I decided not to point this out but instead grinned right back at him. I caught Sirius’ eye who smiled conspiratorially at me, he’d clearly seen James make a mess of himself too. I knew immediately that he was also planning to let James sit there like a tool rather than say anything.
“So Marlene and Dorcas won’t mind helping? It is a lot of work.”
“Nah,” Sirius couldn’t tear his eyes away from the rice in James’ hair, he was not exactly the best at keeping a straight face but perhaps Sirius staring weirdly at him was routine because James seemed not to notice, “They’re lesbians they’re good at building stuff you know.”
I rolled my eyes, “I’m going to text Lily too?”
James lit up like a fucking ray of sunshine. I almost instantly regretted suggesting it. Things always get complicated when your mates want to bone one another, but on the other hand, I didn’t want to be totally outnumbered with people that I didn’t know and since I’d moved to Los Angeles, Lily was the only person I’d met from abroad. Sure she was from England, but you have to take what you can get when no one in America can make a decent cup of tea.
Sirius nodded, “I mean the more hands the easier it’ll be right? We can do beer and pizza and maybe even swim a bit.”
“I’m already texting the girls.” James was tapping madly at his phone.
That night, after stuffing my face with Chinese food with James and Sirius, I padded upstairs to sleep in one of the guest bedrooms after James absolutely refused to let me spend the night on the sofa. Despite myself I think I was already starting to like the two idiots. It was weird, I’d never had cis guy mates in Ireland that would stick around for very long. Something about my having a vagina. Sure there were lads that would return my texts periodically, or that were good for a pint or two. I don’t know what made them scare so easily -- I was still the same guy. I’d been lucky, I’d been able to pass as a (perhaps effeminate) guy for awhile even before I started testosterone. But it was always the same once they found out -- the queers, the ones that had wanted to fuck me, or to keep me around to see if they wanted to fuck me, when they found out that I lacked something they liked, that was enough reason to abandon ship. The straights, the ones that were good for a night out on the piss or that didn’t mind me when I was a winner for their team in football, they disappeared entirely. I was no longer one of the gang. Didn’t matter that the dosage I was on meant I had more testo in my system than some of them. I liked them, yeah, but I also didn’t want to get attached. Being attached, hoping for something more than a casual friendship with cis guys was like -- it was asking for heartbreak.
I waited until I heard the two of them head to bed before I stripped down to my boxer briefs. I lifted my arms and pulled my binder off slowly, peeling it away from my ribs and wincing. Too many hours in it today meant that I was probably going to feel it tomorrow. Even with the new ones I’d ordered there was always that inability to take a deep breath, the pull on the ribs that made you sore and sweaty after a long day in the thing. It was one thing in Dublin where it never got too hot, but here, where it seemingly never dipped under 70, adding an extra layer was tough. I touched my chest a bit and it was tender but I didn't think I'd have bruises. I thought about how James and Sirius had invited their friends over tomorrow and sighed. I probably wouldn't have much chance to go without the damn thing tomorrow either. Swimming? It was out of the question -- I was going to have to find a reason to pass.
I could have just told them when I came in for the interview. Lily never asked me why I didn’t even though she knew, for which I was grateful. I had been open with the department at USC, had even mentioned it in my entrance essay. I was working on trans and queer literature and film it wasn’t the most difficult puzzle to piece together. Somehow though, I just hadn’t been able to do it. I didn’t want to lose the chance at the room, and sure, I guess I liked them. Now it was as if I were keeping it from them. Every day that passed meant that I was going to get more attached to my new mansion, my new mates. It would be better to get it all out in the open now and find out if they were going to be phobic.
But now I’d ordered the furniture. It was coming tomorrow, and leaving was going to be a bit harder when I had a small apartment’s worth of furniture to move along with the boxes that were currently in the pool house. I ran my hands through my hair, trying not to let the fear that shot through me overwhelm me. Sirius was queer, he specifically asked for a queer roommate. It wasn’t going to matter. And anyway, there was no reason why they should find out.
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