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"We actually just had a room become available–"
"Oh, thank god."
"–starting tomorrow night."
"Bollocks."
Sirius said thank you and goodbye to the very kind, very patient concierge at the Holiday Inn Express before jabbing the "end call" button and dropping his phone onto the seat. He leaned his head back, pressed his palms over his face, and screamed.
"What'd I tell ya?" the Uber driver tutted, raising an eyebrow at Sirius through the rearview mirror. "Bad time for an impromptu trip to the slots, pal. I dunno what you were thinkin'."
"I didn't really have a choice, Stan."
When Sirius had gotten the call, he'd barely had time to shove a suit and a toothbrush into a rucksack before he had to hop in a cab to Heathrow and catch the next direct flight to Vegas. He'd searched for a hotel room until the second he had to switch to airplane mode, but everywhere was booked up. Leave it to his brother to get surprise-married the same weekend the Weird Sisters were playing the Sphere. Luckily, Stan S. was willing to drive him around aimlessly, racking up the fare as Sirius got turned away again and again.
Two more motels and a B&B said "tough luck" before he spotted it: a neon green vacancy sign.
"There!" he shouted, violently smacking poor Stan's headrest.
They were in a run-down neighborhood a good two miles off the main strip that seemed more residential than touristy, but all Sirius needed was a wet shower and a relatively clean bed. If the place turned out to be a nightmare, he could try the Holiday Inn Express again in the morning.
"Here?" Stan asked warily, pulling the car to the curb. "I wouldn't stay here if I was you."
"Why not, has someone been murdered here?" Sirius stuffed his phone into his pocket and looked around, double-checking that he had everything.
"Well, no," Stan said. "Not to my knowledge."
"Then it'll have to do." Sirius slid across the seat and let himself out, bidding a final thank you to Stan and giving him five stars and a hefty tip before turning and taking in where he'd be staying for the night.
Loop Inn, read a blue pylon sign in simple script, punctuated by a white crescent moon. The building was a Frankenstein's monster of generic motel and theme park plaster castle. Not Sirius's typical purlieu, but probably not unusual for Vegas, he assumed. Swinging his bag over one shoulder, he made his way through the front door.
The lobby was outdated: linoleum floors, ugly floral sofas, and a dusty fake bouquet on a Queen Anne coffee table. But it smelled clean, soothing jazz piano was playing from a speaker somewhere, and there was a very inviting man behind the front desk.
He had tawny brown waves, cut short (clearly by his own hand), and a lovely large nose, on top of which perched wire-framed reading glasses. Sirius knew they were reading glasses because the man was reading. He stared intently at the book he held in one hand, his lips moving slightly. In the other hand he held a mug, from which wafted the rich aroma of Earl Grey. Between all of that and his argyle jumper, the man looked more like he belonged in a cozy countryside bed and breakfast rather than a motel off the Vegas strip.
Sirius approached the desk. "Hello there."
"AAHH!!" The man jumped back, flailing his arms and legs and flinging his tea and book two feet in the air.
"AAH!" The sudden outburst startled Sirius in return. "I'm so sorry!"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" The man scrambled to pick up his mug and book, depositing them on the desk before pulling an excessive number of tissues from a box to dab at the tea that had splashed the wall behind him. "Are you lost? Can I call someone for you?"
Already rattled, Sirius was thrown further off-kilter by the question, and even more by the man's Welsh accent.
"Er, no? I'd like a room."
"You'd like a room?" The man cocked his head at Sirius, still dabbing blindly at the tea-stained wall.
"Yes."
"Here?"
"Please."
The man's hands froze in place and he stared at Sirius like the embodiment of a 404 error. Then he blinked and shook his head a bit before dropping the tissues to the floor and stepping back to his place at the desk, standing straight and smiling enthusiastically.
"Of course! Hello, welcome to Loop Inn, where your fantasies come to life! My name is Remus. How can I help you?"
"Er–" Sirius tried to reset himself as well, but he'd been awake for almost twenty hours and he was starting to wonder if any of this was real. "One room, please?"
"Yes, wonderful." Remus turned to the boxy, beige desktop computer and clacked away at the keyboard with long, agile fingers. "You're in luck, we do have rooms available. How many nights?"
"Two."
"And will it just be you, Mister…"
"Black. Sirius. Yes, just me."
"Got it. How does the Deluxe Suite sound? It's perfect for the weary traveler in need of a home away from home."
"Sounds great," Sirius said, suddenly self-conscious about how weary he looked. His hair was a mess, falling out of the top bun he'd thrown it into for the plane, he was wearing ratty jeans and an old uni sweatshirt, and he probably smelled. Hence the need for a shower.
Remus clicked a couple more things on the computer, then placed his reading glasses on the desk and pulled a room key (an actual key with one of those plastic tag things!) from a cabinet on the wall beside him. He turned to Sirius and gave him the warmest, kindest smile, slightly lopsided and with sparkling brown eyes that crinkled at the corners. A smile that immediately put Sirius at ease, and maybe made some butterflies flutter in his tummy.
"Right this way."
Sirius took a final look around the lobby, just in case he missed anything. As his eyes fell on the front door, he realized Stan was still out there in his car, leaning over the passenger seat and peering skeptically into the inn. Sirius gave him a shrug and a thumbs up – all good! And with a slow shake of his head, Stan zoomed off.
"What brings you to America's Playground, Mr. Black?" Remus asked, leading Sirius through the yellow-wallpapered and pink-carpeted corridor of Loop Inn.
"A wedding," said Sirius, earning a pleased "ah!" from Remus. "Yeah, my brother's getting married tomorrow. It was a very last-minute invitation, but, better than no invitation at all."
"You must love him very much to come so far on such short notice."
"I do," Sirius said with a fond smile. There was little he wouldn't do for that beloved idiot. "What about you, Remus? How did you end up out here?"
"Oh, I've always been here," Remus said, gesturing around at the fluorescently lit hallway. "I mean, I grew up here. This place was my father's, and his father's before that. And I suppose, one day, I'll pass it on to the next Lupin." His pace slowed as a sadness crossed his expression, though Sirius wasn't sure if it was an 'I hate it here and I don't want that' sadness or an 'I don't have a child but I'd like to' sadness.
"You grew up here?" Sirius asked, trying not to be too nosy. "You sound Welsh."
"Yes! That's right!" Remus perked back up with an excited smile. Then he pivoted to the left and stuck the key into a door Sirius hadn't seen coming. "Here we are!"
Remus held the door open and handed Sirius the key as he stepped through.
"I hope everything will be to your liking. If you need anything at all, you can press 'one' on the phone for the front desk."
"Thank you so much, Remus," Sirius sighed, plopping his bag down on the floor. "I can't tell you how glad I am to have found you."
"It's my pleasure," Remus said with a bashful smile and what appeared to be a blush on his cheeks. "Enjoy your night."
With that, he closed the door behind him, and Sirius let out a huff of relief. He had a room. And it was only 7 P.M.! Which was… 3 A.M. in London.
Whew.
The room itself looked like a normal, inexpensive, outdated hotel room. The quilt on the bed was thin and floral, the furniture was ugly, the decor was ugly… everything about it was ugly. But that didn't matter when all he needed to do was shower and sleep.
He kicked off his shoes and made his way to the ensuite, pulling off his clothes as he went. He stopped in his tracks when he flicked on the light and saw, in the middle of the beige-tiled bathroom, a very large jacuzzi tub in the shape of a love heart.
Well, that was Vegas, he supposed.
Stripping off the last of his gross airplane clothes and pulling his hair out of its bun, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Somehow, after an 11-hour flight consuming high-sodium meals and one (or two) adult beverages, he still managed to look bloody fit. He gave his reflection finger guns and a flirty wink, then burst out laughing at how positively loopy he felt.
Ha – Loop!
Right. Shower.
He turned the water on and tested the temperature. Cold. Probably took a few minutes to warm up. In the meantime, he fished his toiletry bag from his rucksack and brushed his teeth. When he finished that, he checked the water again. Still cold. He cranked the dial all the way to the red 'H.' Maybe that would speed up the process.
The water stopped.
Maybe it was… adjusting?
He reached for the dial again, but was stopped by a loud sqquuueerrreeeeeaaakk!! before a violent burst of water exploded from the shower head in every direction. Frantically, he turned the dial back to the blue 'C,' but all that did was make the shower head pop off.
And the water was still cold.
"Bloody…"
With a little hesitation, he turned on the faucet in the jacuzzi. When he was met by a familiar sqquuueerrr– he shut it off again.
Sighing and grumbling to himself, he made sure the water eruption was contained by the shower curtain, put his clothes back on, and dialed '1' on the rotary phone next to the bed.
Remus answered. "Good evening, Mr. Black, how can I help you?"
"I'm so sorry to bother you, Remus," he sighed, "but there's a problem with the shower in this room. It's sort of…" He gestured vaguely with his free hand. "…exploding."
"Oh, dear."
"Yeah. I hate to ask, but is there any chance I can move to a different room? I'm not sure it'll be an easy fix, and I really need to shower and get to bed."
"Of course, that's no trouble at all. I'm so sorry for the inconvenience. Please come by the front desk when you're ready, and I'll get you set up in another open room."
So Sirius packed up his handful of belongings and did just that.
"If you don't mind, Mr. Black," Remus said as they approached the door to the new room, "I'll leave you with the key here. I'd like to get on the horn with a plumber as quickly as possible."
"Of course," Sirius said, taking the new key from Remus and handing him the old one. "And please, just call me Sirius."
"Alright, Sirius," Remus said with another bashful smile. "I'm quite sure this room will be to your liking. It's one of our newly refurbished rooms. Much nicer than the Deluxe Suite." He said the last bit with a grimace that made Sirius wonder why he'd been put in the Deluxe Suite to begin with.
"As long as the water comes out hot, I'll be happy," Sirius said.
With another cute little smile and a nod, Remus turned on his heels and headed back towards the lobby.
"Oh, Remus!" Sirius called, and Remus whipped back around with an eager-to-please expression. "One more thing – is there an iron I can use? My suit for tomorrow is a mess, all shoved in my bag."
"Of course! Each room is equipped with an iron and ironing board. You'll find it in the closet."
"Great, thank you." He gave Remus a little wave. "'Night."
"Goodnight, Sirius."
Sirius stuck the key in the lock, opened the door, and his jaw went slack.
Mirrors.
Every inch of every wall – and even the ceiling – was covered in mirrors. Dozens of Siriuses stared back at him with the same horrified expression.
Bloody Vegas.
The bed was nicer than the last one though, once he'd discerned the real one from its reflections.
He scanned the funhouse walls in search of a doorknob, deciding he should press his suit before the hot shower made him too sleepy. Eventually he found the closet, which indeed housed a normal iron and ironing board. He set it up next to the outlet (which took him several minutes to locate), but when he plugged in the iron, the outlet went KRSSHZT! and sparked violently, sending Sirius backwards with a yelp. He squealed again when there was a CRASSHH on the other side of the room – one of the mirrors had shattered, seemingly of its own accord!
Sirius scooped up his suit, holding it close to his chest to protect it from any spontaneous fires that might erupt, and high-tailed it out of the room (as soon as he'd located the exit door which, again, was not easy, and he somehow managed to bonk into his own reflection more than once in the attempt).
"Remus," he panted when he made it to the lobby.
"Sirius!" Remus exclaimed in surprise. "Is everything alright with the new room?"
"No. The electricity– I tried to iron my suit but I was afraid I might start a fire."
"Oh, dear. That will never do. I'm so sorry about that. Here–" Remus set down the wrench that Sirius hadn't realized he was holding and took Sirius's suit from him. "Why don't we have our laundry department steam this for you, free of charge? It's the least I can do for all your trouble."
"Sure, sure," Sirius said, finally recovering from his panic.
And so, Remus led him to yet another room.
"Honestly, I'm a bit glad that room didn't work out," Sirius said with a chuckle. "The mirrors were sort of freaking me out."
Remus looked at him quizzically. "The what?"
"The… mirrors?"
"Oh, right! Of course!" Remus laughed in a way that seemed forced and a bit unhinged but also sort of… cute? "Not to worry, no mirrors in this room. Well, the appropriate number of mirrors. This is our Paradise Suite – our most relaxing room, guaranteed to make you feel like you're on a tropical vacation." He waved his hands in a rainbow shape to really sell the last bit.
"Again," said Sirius, "hot shower, soft bed, I'm happy."
"Of course." Remus stopped at the door and handed him the key. "And your suit will be delivered to your room in the morning."
"Thanks, Remus, I appreciate that."
They said their goodnights (again) and Sirius entered the room.
It was nice. And normal. Thank fuck.
It had more potted plants than the other rooms, but nothing crazy, and they actually seemed real and well cared for.
With his suit being taken care of and his teeth already brushed, Sirius went about getting ready to have his shower. He learned from his past mistake, however, and decided he wouldn't bother undressing until he knew everything was working.
The bathroom looked similarly nice and normal (thank fuck again). The large tub was not shaped like a love heart but rather had a natural rock look and a little waterfall, which did seem luxurious and relaxing.
Before letting himself get lost in paradise, he flicked off the light switch for the main room. No need to waste energy.
The first thing he registered was a green glow. The light had turned off, yes, but the room did not get entirely dark. Because there were projections. On the ceiling: the night sky. On the walls: a dense, tropical rainforest.
Then he noticed the sounds.
Crickets and leaves through a breeze, at first. Then rain. Then thunder. And the projections synced up with it. The trees swayed, a flash of lightning lit up the room, temporarily blinding him. Monkeys began to shriek, swinging from the branches in a terrifying pack. A sudden and very close ROOAARR had Sirius slamming the light switch back on.
With the lights on, the room was normal.
Just in case he'd had an exhaustion-induced hallucination, he flicked the switch again.
The cacophony returned immediately, thunder booming, monkeys screaming, elephants making elephant noises.
He bee-lined to the front desk.
"No."
"No?" Remus looked up from where he was pressing Sirius's trousers, reading glasses slipping down his nose and big brown eyes filled with watery disappointment.
Sirius sighed. "No."
He should have left, right then and there. Found some other, normal shitty motel. Knocked on doors until someone took him in. Paid Stan $1000 USD to sleep in his car.
But god damn Remus Lupin aimed to please, and Sirius wanted nothing more than to make that sweet, strange man smile.
He needed another adult beverage, is what he needed.
He let Remus lead him to the last available room (though he was pretty certain he was the only guest at Loop Inn – maybe ever).
Remus called it the Crystal Chalice room and gave it no other preamble except that it had no shower, but an excellent tub, to which Sirius replied that that was fine, maybe he would just sleep in the bath. Remus laughed and told him not to do that because it was dangerous. Which, obviously. Sirius wasn't really going to sleep in the bath.
When he opened the door his immediate thought was, 'What the bloody fuck?' But when he turned around to ask questions, Remus was already gone.
This room was much larger than the others. Spacious with a very high ceiling. To his right was a sitting area: another Queen Anne coffee table with an ugly fake bouquet and a black leather sofa that looked out of place against the inn's general pastel theme. To the left was a bed, new and nice like the one in the mirror room. Dead center was a spiral staircase and a two-story tall champagne coupe.
Yes. The tub was a giant champagne glass. Stem and all.
Resigned to his fate, Sirius shut the door behind him and, once again, began to strip. He dragged his heavy feet up the carpeted staircase, littering it with socks, jeans, sweatshirt, t-shirt, and finally, as he reached the landing, pants. At the top, the tub almost looked like a normal tub – normal taps, normal jets, fancy-looking shampoos, and a stack of fluffy white towels. Only, it was ten feet off the ground and if Sirius fell he might break his neck.
That was fine.
He turned on the tap, and almost immediately the water was hot. Not wanting to press his luck, he left the jets off. It took a few short minutes for the tub to fill, and then finally, finally, Sirius was slipping into the hot bath. He sank into it, submerging his greasy, tangled hair and feeling like a proper nymph when he came back up for air.
He was ready to relax and get some much-needed rest before the big day.
CRACK.
No. No. What was that?! Sirius froze and listened to see if it would happen again.
CRACK!!
It was coming from the other side of the tub, near his feet. God fucking damn it.
Cr-cra-craaack!
He scrambled backwards, grasping wildly at the carpet and pulling his slippery arse onto the landing just as the entire front side of the tub burst open, sending gallons upon gallons of water whooshing down onto the floor below.
He whipped a towel around his waist, hurtled down the stairs, and threw the door open.
"REMUS!!!"
As he stomped down the hallway, Remus came running from the other end, glasses askew and eyes wide. They went even wider when he registered Sirius: drenched, panting, and wearing only a towel.
"Please, Remus," Sirius begged. "I don't want my fantasies to come true. I don't want to sleep with the monkeys or become a human garnish. I just want a functioning shower, a clean bed, and a strong cup of coffee in the morning. Is that too much to ask?"
"I can do that."
"Can you?!" Sirius's voice broke and he thought he might burst into tears. He didn't want to think about how long he'd been awake at this point.
"There is one last option," Remus said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. "It's small, but it's cozy. The bed is plush and warm, the shower works, and it has a stocked kitchen so you can have your coffee with a side of Full English if you like."
"Yes, yes!" Sirius took Remus by the shoulders, giving him a little shake. "That sounds perfect! Where is it?!"
"It's my house."
"Oh."
Now, Sirius knew the rules – never go to a secondary location, don't let mysterious Welsh motel owners take you home, etc. etc. But you have to understand, this was a desperate situation. And Sirius was fairly confident he could take Remus if he needed to.
He dropped his hands from Remus's shoulders. "Alright."
"Alright?"
"Lead the way."
"Would you like to get dressed first?"
"Oh. Right."
So Sirius got dressed. AGAIN. He was so tired of those grimy clothes! And he walked with Remus around the block to his house.
Remus's house was as much an adorable mystery as the man himself: amidst a sea of flat buildings and prefab homes, it was a quaint stone cottage with climbing ivy and wildflowers in the front garden. Inside, it was quiet and warm, and smelled like pine and chocolate.
Sirius was so exhausted by the time he got into the shower (which was the perfect temperature and had gorgeous pressure), he half considered asking Remus to help him wash his hair. But he didn't. He managed, somehow.
When he'd dried off and stepped into the dim, cozy bedroom, the blankets were turned down and there was a set of flannel pajamas waiting at the foot of the bed, which was good because Sirius hadn't packed any pajamas.
He plugged in his phone, got himself snug under the covers, and was about to finally drift off to sleep when the door creaked open and closed quietly, and Remus Lupin – in his own set of flannel pajamas – slid into bed next to him.
"Everything good with the shower?" Remus asked, as if they were simply conversing at the front desk and not lying next to each other in a queen size bed, staring at the ceiling fan.
"Er, yeah!" Sirius said. "Thank you, it was– it was perfect."
"I'm glad to hear it."
"And thank you for the pajamas, they're lovely."
"Of course. Is there anything else I can get you?"
"No, I'm– I'm good! Thank you!"
"My pleasure. Goodnight, Sirius."
Sirius only lasted a few seconds before he burst into laughter.
"What is it?" Remus asked, turning to look at him in confusion. "Did I do something?"
Sirius let his loopy, sleep-deprived laughter peter out and caught his breath before saying, "You didn't feel like making up the sofa?"
Remus smacked his hands over his face. "Oh my god. I'm so sorry, I didn't even think about it."
That sent Sirius into a renewed fit of laughter.
"I'm not usually this incompetent, I swear!" Remus implored. "You're just so–"
"Oh, it's my fault, is it?"
"You're distracting!"
"Oh?" Sirius rolled onto his side just in time to catch the blush bloom on Remus's cheeks. He batted his eyes at him. "How am I distracting?"
"You know," Remus said with a pout.
Sirius scooted a little closer. "Y'know, Remus, It's just occurred to me that you've been bending over backwards all night to get me what I want, and I've never once asked you what you want."
"Well," Remus said, "that's not your job."
"I don't see how that matters." Sirius scooted closer still. "What do you want, Remus?"
"I…" Remus slowly rolled to face Sirius, and his tongue darted over his lips. "Would it be alright if I…" His eyes scanned Sirius's face and landed on his mouth. Then he rolled away again. "No, you're a guest at my inn! I shouldn't–"
Sirius reached out, turned Remus's face back towards him, and kissed him on the lips.
Remus reciprocated immediately, forgetting whatever made-up morals were stopping him. He wrapped his arms around Sirius's shoulders and opened his mouth for Sirius's tongue.
Remus kissed languidly, like he was savoring every taste of wet lips and hot breath, and Sirius simply melted in his arms. When Remus rolled on top of him and started kissing slowly and luxuriously down his jaw and his neck, Sirius was sure he'd died and gone to heaven.
Kisses so soft, arms so strong and secure. Remus's weight pressed into him like a blanket…
So relaxing….
A fond chuckle.
Soft blankets tucked around his shoulders.
A kiss on his temple.
The nutty, inviting smell of fresh coffee.
When Sirius dragged himself into the kitchen, reaching to the ceiling in a massive stretch, Remus was there, cooking something that smelled amazing.
"Morning," Sirius said through a deep yawn.
Remus turned on the spot and gave Sirius that crinkle-eyed smile, waking up Sirius's tummy butterflies. "Sleep well?"
"Like a rock." Sirius shuffled over and wrapped his arms around Remus's waist. "You?"
Remus's smile widened. "Yeah."
They had an excellent breakfast of banana pancakes and – for Sirius – lots of coffee.
Sirius offered to do the washing up after, but Remus insisted that Sirius was a guest and should do no such thing. They went back and forth for a while about who owed whom until Sirius conceded that since he'd survived the nightmare hellscape that was Loop Inn, Remus could do the dishes.
His pressed suit was waiting for him in Remus's wardrobe, and by the time the pots and pans were clean and dry, Sirius was dressed and dolled up.
"How long are you in town?" Remus asked, leaning against the counter and nursing another mug of Earl Grey.
"I have a return flight booked for tomorrow," Sirius said, sidling up beside him. Remus nodded and took another sip. "But this doesn't have to be goodbye." He nudged Remus with his hip. "How would you feel about a wedding?"
Remus spluttered into his tea. "Oh! Gosh, Sirius, I–" He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. "I'm flattered but, really, we just met yesterday!"
"Be my date!" Sirius laughed. "To my brother's wedding."
"Oh." Remus cringed at himself, letting out a little chuckle. "Right. Yes. That would be lovely."
"We'll see how it goes, though. This is Vegas, after all." That earned Sirius another sweet smile. "And I believe we have unfinished business."
Remus lowered his mug, letting Sirius lean in and kiss the tea off his lips.