“I haven’t always been fair to you.” Remus said. He had wanted to say it for a long time now. He wanted some kind of forgiveness. “You’ve been fine,” Grant smiled, without a trace of blame. “You’ve been my little bit of magic.”
He leaned forward and kissed Remus. Remus opened his eyes, freezing for a moment. “S’fine,” Grant assured him, stroking his cheek, “They’re all outside, I checked.” Remus kissed him back.
“It’s all right,” Grant whispered, desperation edging his voice, pressing his forehead against Remus’s hot cheek, “No one’s gonna find out.” He tasted like cigarettes and sunburn.
“My arse! Tell you what, if it’s a choice between you coming back like this every month or giving that wolfy fucker a few blowjobs then I’ll do it myself.”
“Grant… look...” Remus made sparks with his wand. He levitated the coffee table, and then - showing off, because it had been so long - transformed his mug into a frog. “All right!” Grant recoiled, as the frog hopped onto the carpet, “Ok, I believe you! Jesus Christ!”
“You called me Remus, didn't you?” The boy pushed. “I'm sorry,” Grant said, wanting to back away, “I don't know what I was thinking--” “He was my dad.”
“People are great. Art, sex, coffee, conversation - can’t have any of those without people. People are what makes it all worthwhile and you know it.” He was right - Grant was generally right about humanity.
“I bloody well believe you, too - can’t get rid of ya, can I?” Grant grinned. His first genuine smile so far - it made Remus feel somewhat easier. “Like magnets, you and me, eh? Always snap right back together.”
Because deep down Grant knew that Remus would never have left London, anyway, and Remus would never want to foster children - he’d be too afraid he’d hurt them on a full moon. That future had always been a bit of wishful thinking; it was more about Grant than Remus.
“You’ll break my heart if you go now.” Remus said, aware he sounded sulky and petulant. Grant shook his head lightly, holding his ground. “I’m sorry, love. But it’s breaking my heart to stay.”
Grant knew it was completely mad, but he couldn’t help himself, “Remus!” But this wasn’t Remus - how could it be? For one thing, Remus Lupin had been dead for almost two decades.
“At the Art College, and Brighton Poly. You get loads of our sort, at art schools. I was seeing an engineer, a poet and a painter.” “Is that three separate people, or one very clever person?” Remus asked, wryly. “Cheeky beggar. Wouldn’t you like to know.” Grant snickered.