Reborn

Slow down, you crazy child.

And take the phone off the hook and disappear for awhile

_____________

Sirius had felt an undeniable dread before he even knew what was to happen, which was a little silly, really.

He felt it when he woke up, even. He felt it at the pronunciation of the first letter of his name during breakfast; a spat out ‘Sirius’ said in his mother’s venomous voice.

Which wasn’t rare, per se. She didn’t particularly pronounce Sirius’s name in a very darling tone ever, truth to be told. It was just something about that day.

He’d felt himself tense up even before she’d so much as shot him a glance; simply sensing it, something that was so unmistakably off.

“Alphard has deceased,” his mother had said, indifferent, as if she was just making conversation.

Sirius wasn’t close to his uncle, not really, even though he had always been one of the few tolerable Black family members in his opinion.

It was what came next that threw him off. It was the news he had really been waiting for. Perhaps, all his life.

“His house was located on the countryside close to a small village, and he has left it… for you,” his mother said, not without eyeing Sirius up and down first. She said it as venomously as she’d pronounce his name; like there was something distasteful about the countryside. Which she probably thought there was, anyway.

“So. We will as a family be spending the summer there to make a good impression. Cancel any plans you have,” she said flatly, and before Sirius got to say anything, she dismissed him from the table.

And that was that.

Sirius stood up and walked away, up the stairs again, although making a point to stomp more harshly than necessary on his way up.

Sirius sighed angrily in exasperation once he was in his room, out of earshot from his mother. He was a bit afraid of making any major noise, despite his frustration and anger, at the thought she’d hear him.

He angrily called James once he’d breathed and calmed down for a bit.

“Hey mate!” James’ cheery voice greeted him, and Sirius immediately felt a bit better. Thank goodness for James Potter.

“Hey,” Sirius smiled. He felt his own face drop at his next words, though. “Uh, I’m going away. All summer, like,” he sighed

“What?” James asked, practically whined, in his ear. “All summer? What about that concert? And the road trip?”

“Yeah. My darling mother has decided we’ve got to spend the summer at my now-dead-uncle’s old place that he apparently left under my name,” Sirius explained, heart aching at the thought of what he was missing. “It is also located on the countryside. In the middle of nowhere, I reckon,” Sirius said, feeling very bad for himself.

“That’s rubbish,” James said sympathetically, before sighing. “Alright. I hope you have it alright, at least,” he said, ever so positive.

“Yeah. Cheers,” Sirius said back weakly.

“You’ve got to phone me, though,” James threatened, in that playful tone of his, which managed to make Sirius crack a smile again.

“Yeah. Yeah, I promise,” he replied.

“Good. Alright, I’ve got to go eat breakfast now. Mum’s made pancakes,” James then said.

“Alright,” Sirius sighed, a bit disappointed. And also jealous at the thought. Effie’s pancakes really were amazing. They were also the only pancakes he’d ever eaten, really, since his mother didn’t approve of the dish. “Talk to you soon?”

“Yeah, talk soon,” James replied.

Then the conversation came to an end, and Sirius was left alone with nothing but his own thoughts

_____________

Now, Sirius could’ve accepted a week. Two weeks. A month, even.

But the whole bloody break?

It was pushing it a bit, was it not?

Because well, he’d read a bit about the village they were headed to. Whatever he could find, really. For example; where it was located on a map.

And, it was small.

Like, really small. Like where everyone knew each other and there had probably been accidental incest before, that small.

Which, wasn’t all that horrendous, if it wasn’t for that, Alphard’s, or Sirius’ technically, house was located on the outskirts of the village.

So, he’d basically be with no one but the Black family for the whole summer, in a house completely isolated, because his mother wanted to prove a point. Or something.

Basically, Sirius had found that that summer would become excruciatingly lonely.

He’d been texting James since the car had started moving, and pretended to look out the window or be incredibly busy with something when his parents tried to say anything. Or worse; his darling brother, because nowadays, Regulus didn’t address him with the intents of saying anything other than:

“Straighten your back, Sirius.”

“You shouldn’t eat that, Sirius.”

“Sirius—“

Sirius, Sirius, Sirius. Not brother. Not anything that Regulus used to call him. Not anymore.

Usually, whenever he felt like he really, really, did miss Regulus; he’d be with James. He’d be with James, and remind himself that he did have a brother, in every way that mattered, even if they didn’t share a last name.

And, by this time any other year, he’d be with James and his family. But no.

He sighed pitifully, yet quietly, feeling sorry for himself again. Not even James could text anymore; having to go help his dad with something. The man had taken a great liking to gardening a year prior, which often resulted in James having to help him out with one thing or the other, much to the boy’s dismay.

Sirius looked out the window. Yep. Still nothing but grass and fields and ridiculous amounts of forest.

Suddenly, the car came to an abrupt halt.

“We are here,” the chauffeur said politely.

It didn’t even look like a parking place, as Sirius looked out. He imagined his mother’s horrified face at noticing that they truly were in the middle of nowhere, somewhere she deemed dirty, which made him feel a bit better, at least.

The sky was dark and heavy, giving a promise of rain.

The chauffeur helped the family out, and as Sirius looked over the big field of nothing, he could barely make out a house in the distance.

Sorry. House was the wrong word; a mansion. Nothing less for a Black family member, he supposed.

The chauffeur was saying something to his mother, gesturing to the house, before they were wordlessly urged to walk over the field to it. The chauffeur and a few other people, some of his mother’s servants probably, took their bags before leading them to the building.

The door opened with a creak and with dust starting to fly around, and Sirius coughed. His mother looked pale as she looked inside.

“…regretting your decision, mother?” Sirius spat.

His mother pinched her lips together into a thin line.

“I’d suggest you’re quiet, Sirius,” she spat back, before starting to order the servants to clean.

They tried to do so quickly, whilst also trying to show the family where the different bedrooms were located.

Sirius’ own one was almost more of an attic than it was a room, but it was big, and… maybe kind of cozy, if you were to change it up a little bit, which was more than he could ask for, really.

It was dusty, but despite that Sirius told the servants to go downstairs and help cleaning other places before they started on his room.

It’d started raining at that point, a light pitter-patter of drops against the window, which Sirius walked up to.

He sat down on the huge windowsill, and stared at trees behind the house, where the window was facing. He couldn’t see any signs of life other than animals, or at least signs of them, which was really also hard to see because of water drops hitting the glass.

Which wasn’t all too bad, he thought; Sirius had always liked animals, no matter how dirty his mother deemed them. He’d especially always liked dogs. Wolves, too, even if he was a bit unfamiliar and scared of both of them. Maybe he’d get to see a wolf, if he was lucky. And also camped out at the window all the time.

Perhaps, when he was a kid and she’d scolded him about liking animals, was when he’d first started disliking her for real. Maybe that’s when it all started; his undying need to disobey.

At least disobey his parents. Who he was stuck with. All summer break. Before going back to his aristocratic job. That his parents had picked out for him.

A voice strangely similar to the one of James scolded him for being so negative. Sirius took a breath.

Well, it wasn’t too bad, anyway. The whole place. Even if it was nothing but his annoying family and woods.

Sometimes, when the chaos of London and the loudness of his house and the need to be someone in a city full of other someones that really just made everyone become no ones, was exhausting.

He’d like to be someone. He’d like to be known, a bit. But he wanted to be around other people who were known, too. Maybe what he was yearning for was a small village. Or a small neighbourhood. Filled with animals and “dirty” work.

But, even though this place really did seem like that kind of place, where he could be someone, being here, in his deceased uncle’s old house, away from James and their small friend group and all the plans they’d had, Sirius felt more unknown than ever.

_____________

It wasn’t until late that evening that the servants finally finished cleaning. It was still, silent, when the four family members ate dinner; which was worse than the constant noise of cleaning. Despite the heavy, heavy, thunderstorm that had started outside of the building, the house felt unbearably quiet. It let the silence get oh so loud, a constant buzzing in the back of Sirius’ head.

“Sirius,” his mother said suddenly. Spat, awakening that strange dread Sirius had felt that morning again.

Sirius made a point to sigh loudly.

“Yes, mother?” he then asked.

“Me and your father have been talking,” she said, seemingly picking her words carefully. “And we’ve decided it would be better for you to switch jobs,” she eventually landed on.

Sirius’ fork hit the plate with a loud clatter; knowing the implication of that sentence.

Panic, panic, panic, welled up in his chest at the thought. The thought his parents would take the very last thing from him, leave him completely void of the last of his personality like they’d done with Regulus.

“You— you can’t just decide that?!” he exclaimed, exasperated.

“Yes, we can. We have found you a place at a new job already. Way better paid and well established than your old job,”his mother said in that stern tone of hers.

As if his job wasn’t well paid and well established enough. It was one at the British Museum; one as an assistant.

The only difference, the only reason they wanted him to switch, was the fact that his job had James; and his next wouldn’t.

Regulus was staring down at his plate once Sirius let his eyes wander to him.

“You— you knew!” he accused Regulus.

“Look, Sirius, it’s really for the—,” Regulus started.

“Be quiet!” Sirius practically shouted at him. Thunder made a point to rumble in the background.

“And, we’d like you to cut off all contact with James,” his mother finished, infuriatingly calm.

“What? I’m eighteen! I can make my own bloody decisions!” Sirius exclaimed, as if he hadn’t felt the declaration coming from a mile away.

“You are humiliating us by hanging around those—,” his mother cut herself off before she said something foul, “and you knew, have always known, it’s only been a matter of time. I was kind. I let you hang around that boy, but you need to stop this now, Sirius. And follow the footsteps of your real family. Otherwise? You’ll be disowned,” his mother threatened.

Sirius felt his blood run cold.

Because one, he’d be alone without his last name. He’d be forgotten and nobody and stuck on the streets of London if he was disowned. A town full of nobodies wanting to be somebodies, leaving him somewhere in the middle, forgotten; dead.

Because two, Regulus would be alone. And, deep inside, Sirius still hoped that there was hope. That he’d hear Regulus’ worried voice call for ‘brother’ instead of anyone else when he woke up from a nightmare again, see his eyes wide with that familiar wonder and adoration as Sirius showed him a new skill.

But then, he thought of the possibility of becoming like Regulus. Leaving no hope for either of them if he, too, lost his fire; his rebellion, his ability of change.

And he found that there was no possibility, no world, in which he stayed silent. Death had always frightened him more than loneliness; anyway. He wouldn’t die on the streets of London. Hell, not even in the darkness of the woods. He would die here; in a house with his mother, his father, a boy he once called his brother.

The contrast of the warmth of a London streetlight, the cold of the lights in his bedroom. He would always find something, something, something, as long as he did not have to stay.

“The Potters are more of a family to me than you’ve ever been. James is my brother. That is my family in every way that matters. All I share with you is a last name. You can never take that away from me. The only thing you can take is my name!” and with those words, Sirius stood, and rushed to the door of the house.

(Had he stayed a second longer he’d have seen Regulus’ face fall at the thought of James being Sirius’ brother, instead of him. He’d have seen the jealousy behind the shock of the eyes of one who’d had to stay behind; Walburga, who never had the bravery to leave, in the end. He’d have noticed his father saying nothing, not a word, through the whole meal. Had he stayed even longer, he’d have noticed that Orion wouldn’t say anything at all for many, many, days.)

But he didn’t stay. He’d spoken, instead, and as a final statement he threw the door open.

Then he ran.

_____________

For the first time in Sirius’ life, he found himself grateful for the obnoxious modernised version of aristocratic clothing he always had to wear to dinner, usually leaving him sweating, now instead keeping him somewhat warm for a bit against the rain.

For a storm this bad to be during the early summer was very surprising, to Sirius, the cold rain soon starting to make him freeze.

He had his phone in his pocket, which was really all he needed.

If he were to survive, that is.

Freezing to death in the middle of summer in the U.K. of all places did seem unlikely, really, but the storm really was bad. He could be hit by lightning, for example. The weather didn’t seem to be close to letting up, either.

What worried him the most, though, was after. When the storm stopped or he inevitably got tired and sat down, perhaps to starve, or be killed by some crazy angry animal or something.

Or, in the worst case, be dragged back by his parents, leaving him no choice but to stay.

When he saw something.

A light; warm and not too bright, just gently lighting up an area behind a row of trees.

Sirius quickened his step, soon finding himself running on a path leading to houses instead of aimlessly through the intimidating woods.

He let out a laugh, speeding on a cobblestoned path.

The village, he assumed he’d gotten to, was small. Almost miniature, with houses that were short and with stores scattered all around under “apartment buildings”, or at least akin to, and beside small cottages that were strangely located in the middle of the village.

It looked so, so cozy. Sirius felt warm. Then he remembered the rain and felt a surge of panic as he realised he probably shouldn’t feel warm.

He frantically looked around, step coming to a halt.

All of the stores and all of the houses were dark, as far as he could see, though. But the village seemed far from abandoned.

He felt himself loosing hope, heart dropping.

He’d been so close. He felt his eyes burning.

When he saw it.

He immediately rubbed his eyes, as his sight had been blurring.

A small store just a few metres away, still with a warm light glowing inside.

He started running again.

A cafe, he noted. A book cafe, it seemed. He pushed the door open as quickly as he could, and ran inside.

He panted, staring at the empty shop for a second. There was a small checkout with a myriad of different sweet treats, and a staircase leading up behind it. There were tables and chairs scattered in front of it.

A bit to the left of the checkout there were three huge bookcases, with more hiding behind them Sirius would guess, all completely filled with books.

It was from behind these a boy hurried out, looking to be Sirius age, although tall.

He walked up to Sirius, steadying him with a hand as Sirius was about to fall.

The boy was all tanned skin and freckles scattered everywhere, brown eyes with blown-wide pupils and plump but not precisely big lips. His hair was brown and curly and soft looking.

Sirius thought for a second he must’ve died.

“Hello,” the boy said, with something shocked and maybe a bit amused in his voice.

“Stunner, you,” Sirius replied hoarsely, before everything went black.

_____________

He didn’t wake up until many hours later, when he found himself wrapped up in patchwork blankets and laying on a soft pillow but still feeling a bit awful, really. He also found his clothes had been changed into something warm and comfortable.

He woke to a warm, soft, freckled face staring at him with brows knitted in concern. He noted distantly that the rain was still falling by the sound of it.

“Good morning,” the boy said. “Uh. I’m Remus Lupin. Nice to meet you,” he said.

“I’m Sirius. Honorary Potter,” Sirius replied.

The boy smiled.

“Throat hurts? Made you some tea,” he, Remus, said,  before giving Sirius a cup as he sat up a bit more properly. “Put your phone to charge while you slept, too. Hope that was okay?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Sirius noted with wonder how Remus’ had a slight Welsh accent. How did he end up here, on the countryside of the U.K.? Who was his parents? Models, or actors, perhaps? Would Sirius know them? Remus didn’t quite remind him of anyone he recognised, though.

“You’ve got a bit of a fever,” Remus continued, completely oblivious to how sleepy Sirius was getting from his very soothing voice.

“Yeah,” Sirius mumbled dumbly, sipping his tea. It was really good. He distantly wondered if Remus might be able to make it for him every day, forever.

“Moved in instead of Alphard,” Sirius told Remus suddenly, feeling he owed Remus some sort of explanation.

Remus smiled sadly.

“You two were related, or close? I heard he passed away. I’m sorry for your loss,” he said.

It was awfully polite, but not in an uncomfortable nor pitying way, and it made Sirius feel safe.

“Don’t worry,” he said.

Remus brushed some hair Sirius hadn’t known was bothering him from his face. His hand was calloused and cool against Sirius’ forehead.

“Tall, you,” Sirius blurted out. Remus laughed gently.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“How old?” Sirius slurred, absolutely mesmerised.

“I’m eighteen,” Remus replied.

“Me too,” Sirius whispered back, as if it was some secret. “Turn nineteen in November.”

Remus hummed gently, indicating he’d been listening, whilst smiling.

“Wow,” Sirius could only say, before passing back out.

_____________

He slowly but surely got better, then.

The storm didn’t quite stop; rain falling on and off for Sirius’ whole recovery. Mostly he just slept, though.

Until about three days later, when he was feeling much better pretty suddenly.

Remus had walked in with some toast and tea, placing it on the table beside the bed Sirius was sleeping on, when Sirius was well enough to start speaking coherent sentences again.

“Do you live here?” He asked.

Remus looked at him, perhaps with surprise at his sudden ability to be normal, sitting down beside the bed with a smile.

“Yeah. Work in the cafe downstairs. Sleeping in my bed right now, you, actually,” Remus explained.

“Oh no,” Sirius said dumbly, noting that was probably why he’d found the pillow to have been smelling so good.

“It’s alright,” Remus soothed.

“I ran away,” Sirius blurted. “From my parents.”

Remus frowned. It urged Sirius to go on.

“Proper arseholes, them. They wanted me to stop speaking and working with my almost-brother,” he shook his head. “Probably disowned me by now. Or maybe they’ve announced me dead. James is probably…” that’s when it hit him.

“Shit! James!” he exclaimed, reaching for his phone.

He had a few missed calls and messages from him, which he replied with a short message letting him know he’s okay, and a promise to call him later.

Remus was looking at him with amusement.

“Almost brother,” Sirius said, pointing at his phone.

“I see,” Remus replied.

“…anyway. Dumb parents. Yes.

Had to leave my real brother, though. I feel bad. But it’s fine. He was also coming to be cruel. They were going to force me to change jobs, like I said. Like it’s not bad enough working with a bunch of aristocrats in the first place, they also wanted me to leave James. I refused, and left. You saved me,” Sirius explained, making gestures with his hands as he spoke. He felt alive, a bit, getting to do that. He was a very animated person; which his mother never liked, always hitting his hands whenever he did something with them as he spoke.

Remus looked at him with a sort of mesmerised, perhaps fond, look.

“Must be James who’s Prongs, then?” Remus asked. “Sorry for prying, just that he kept ringing you that first day, drove me bloody insane, mind,” Remus blushed a bit as he said it, and Sirius thought he looked lovely.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Inside joke,” he said, smiling fondly.

Remus asked for the story of how he got the name, then, and Sirius began speaking. Which led to how he got his name, Padfoot. Which led to Remus’ best friend, Lily, which led to James’ and Sirius’ other best friend, Peter. Which led to Mary and Marlene, and their parents, and how they take their tea, and if they prefer coffee or tea, and so on.

Everything Sirius found out about Remus he tucked away, stored close to his heart, and soon that was all it was. His heart soon full with Remus living alone but sleeping over at Lily’s every other weekend, with Remus never drinking his tea with sugar but always a copious amount of honey, with Remus loving to read, with Remus wanting to become a teacher, with Remus liking wolves, and a kind smile when he’d told Sirius that there hadn’t existed wolves in Britain for a very long time.

It continued the next day, too, with Sirius well enough to walk around and talk to James on the phone for a bit. He was feeling way better, yes, but he still had to end the conversation pretty abruptly after explaining everything.

“What? Where are you going?” James asked, confused, when Sirius told him he needed to leave.

“Well— Remus is making breakfast right now, and he’s already done so much for me, so I thought it’d be nice to help,” Sirius said, dumbly, as if he thought he could fool James.

It was silent.

“Shut up,” Sirius groaned, blushing, once he realised what James was thinking.

“I haven’t even said anything!” James exclaimed back, but Sirius could hear the smile in his voice.

Sirius was quiet now.

“It’s just that— you don’t know how to cook, do you?” James almost giggled after a moment of trying and failing at being quiet.

“I said shut up! Okay, goodbye now James I love you talk to you later!” Sirius said quickly, embarrassed, before hanging up to James’ bright laughter.

He sighed. Then he left the bedroom.

He was wearing clothing similar to the ones he’d woken up in; all too big on him and obviously Remus’. The thought of wearing Remus’ clothes made him feel warm and fuzzy inside.

He was wearing too-big pyjama pants rolled down once or twice at the waist to fit him somewhat, a too big t-shirt, and a knitted sweater that was, you guessed it, huge.

(He’d asked Remus about all the sweaters before, and Remus had explained he knitted them all himself.

It made Sirius feel like he was falling. He did not yet dare to know into what.)

He realised then he hadn’t actually seen any of Remus’ house other than his room and the small bookshop-cafe at the bottom of the building, before.

The hallway he’d entered was just as cozy as Remus’ room, though, all old and small and warm looking.

He quickly located the kitchen, hearing Remus humming along to a song from the room.

Once he got close enough, he found that it was Lady Stardust. He walked up to the door to look inside.

Sirius let himself stare for a moment, once his eyes were hit with Remus cooking and moving and humming along to the song. He selfishly tucked that moment away into the Remus-corner that had formed on the left side of his chest that was slowly taking over his whole heart, whole body, whole soul.

“Love this song,” he eventually stated, smiling at the way Remus startled and then looked over at Sirius with an embarrassed and shocked expression.

His cheeks were flushed. It suited him nicely. Sirius liked that he’d been the cause of that.

“…Yeah. Yeah. Love Bowie,” Remus smiled back timidly.

“So. What’cha making?” Sirius asked as Remus lowered the volume of the vinyl player in the corner of the kitchen, because of course he had a vinyl player, whilst he walked into the room.

“Oh. Pancakes,” Remus replied, gesturing at the pan.

Sirius walked up, looking at Remus with a look that must’ve been ridiculously fond.

“You good at cooking?” he asked.

Remus nodded.

“I’d say so. Been cooking for myself for a good while,” Remus explained. “since I was sixteen,” he then elaborated.

Sirius didn’t ask him to explain why, even though he kind of wanted to.

“ ‘s there sugar in pancakes?” he instead asked stupidly. A question he was probably supposed to know the answer to, at least.

Remus didn’t make him feel dumb when he answered, though.

“Sometimes. Or, most times, really. Don’t like to put any in myself, though, since I put so sweet toppings on them anyway. You prefer pancakes with sugar?” Remus said.

Sirius shook his head, as if he was very educated on pancakes, simply because he didn’t want Remus to change anything about the food for him.

Remus hummed.

“Lily does. Always says I make them too bloody salty, her,” Remus said. Sirius felt angry at the thought of anyone criticising Remus in any way.

“That’s stupid,” Sirius frowned. Remus smiled.

“You like cooking?” he asked. Sirius shook his head, embarrassed.

“Was never allowed by my parents, like,” he explained.

“That’s alright. Can teach you?” Remus said, or asked, since his tone indicated he was questioning.

“Please do,” Sirius smiled.

Which was how they spent their day, after that.

It resulted in them falling into a strange routine that felt like they should’ve been doing all their lives, from that day on; Remus cooking and Sirius learning, and them eating, and talking, and then the whole day had gone by and they had to cook again, and so on.

The storm stopped and Sirius found himself completely well again a few days later, but Remus refrained from opening the shop for a while anyway.

Sirius should’ve left, but Remus never asked him to. Sirius didn’t want to, anyway.

They started going outside, soon.

Remus would take Sirius’ hand in his bigger, calloused one, and Sirius would hold it like he’d die if he let go.

They’d walk into the forest, and Remus would show him anything and everything.

Any question Sirius had, about anything and everything, Remus would know the answer to.

“My parents didn’t like the forest,” Sirius explained one day, when they were sitting and drinking tea on a blanket.

“Why?” Remus asked, furrowing his brows.

“Thought it was dirty, I reckon,” Sirius shrugged. “I never did. Always liked anything and everything they didn’t. S’pose that’s why they didn’t like me much.”

Remus had frowned even more, then, as if that was something unthinkable.

It made Sirius smile.

“I like it here, though. It’s really nice,” he blurted out.

“Yeah,” Remus said, smiling a bit again. “I like it here too.”

Sirius swallowed.

“Remus?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want to leave.”

“I don’t want you to, either.”

_____________

That was how it continued; their strange little routine.

Remus cleared out a part of his drawer of clothes for Sirius, after shyly showing him a sweater he’d knitted in Sirius’ actual size. They later walked around the village, and then to the ‘neighbouring’ (meaning the one closest— an hour away by foot) small town to buy even more clothes for Sirius.

They also exchanged numbers soon enough, and Sirius started sending Remus funny little videos whenever he used his phone, which actually wasn’t all that often, anymore.

Remus, with his adoringly old phone that was broken and didn’t contain a single social media, would frown at the screen like an old man trying to read the text, before huffing out a laughter and looking over at Sirius fondly.

It made Sirius’ whole body feel warm and delightful and fuzzy.

But he was unsure, for precisely three weeks. He did not know how much Remus wanted to give him, how much he could give him.

Until one day.

Remus was reading something, sitting on an armchair, chewing his bottom lip in concentration; eyebrows knit together. His reading glasses were adoringly gliding down his nose.

Sirius had looked at him for a long time, before walking up to him, heart beating quickly. He wondered, if Remus’ was too.

“Remus,” ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum.

“Yeah?” Remus had mumbled, before looking up.

ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum.

Sirius leaned down, pressing his lips against Remus’. Remus had smiled so much after his initial shock it was barely a kiss; more of a press of the lips. But Sirius did too, so he thought it was okay.

That was the beginning of some new, curious, routine; one that felt even more natural.

One that let Remus start sleeping in his own bed again, with Sirius laying beside him, arms protectively wrapped around him. They changed the sheets, that had shifted from smelling like Remus; parchment paper and that before-rain smell and something woody and something delightfully clean, to Sirius, to smelling like them both.

The routine made Remus open the store again, and made Sirius start working with him.

Remus would always get tired after a working week, Sirius found. He’d hold Sirius close and bury his face in his hair and hush Sirius, not unkindly, whenever he’d try to speak; and after a few hours of ‘recharging’, he’d apologise for acting up.

Sirius would always forgive him. Infinitely; if it meant it’d be Sirius Remus would come to for that same amount of time.

Sometimes, Sirius would cry, silently, into Remus’ chest. He’d whisper about James, and Regulus, and how he missed them both. Sometimes he’d mention Peter, too. About how lonely he’d been. About emotions he’d never been allowed to feel.

Remus would kiss his forehead in that way Sirius loved so much, call him sweet things. He’d let Sirius rest his head against Remus’ chest, right over his heart, where it beat to the exact same steady rhythm Sirius’ own did.

He wondered if it had always been that way. If their hearts had always been so in sync; if Sirius’ life hadn’t truly began until he met Remus, really. If they were made from the same thing, their souls made from the same feelings, the same stardust.

A week into this new… thing, Remus started calling Sirius by things other than his name. ‘Sweetheart’, ‘darling’, ‘love’. Sirius started to draw again, and couldn’t seem to stop drawing Remus. Which wasn’t such a bad curse, after all. Remus himself wrote (‘just for fun’, he said; although Sirius kept insisting he could sell his work) only about Sirius.

It was all perfect.

Except, one person didn’t seem to think so.

Lily Evans.

She always glared at him when Remus leaned down to kiss Sirius’ forehead, and she huffed at them whenever Sirius clung onto Remus’ arm.

Really, it was only a matter of time until she said something about it.

“Sirius,” she had called out, quietly so that no one else heard, from behind a bookshelf.

“Yeah?” Sirius replied.

She made a gesture with her head for him to follow her behind said bookshelf. He did.

“You and Remus fancy each other,” she stated bluntly, staring up at him threateningly.

He swallowed.

“Yes?” He replied.

“You treat him well?” she asked, quieter now.

“Like to believe I do,” Sirius replied honestly.

She swallowed.

“Now, I don’t have anything personal against you, Sirius, really; but if you do anything to hurt him…” she threatened, raising her eyebrows intimidatingly.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Lily, really,” Sirius said earnestly.

Lily relaxed after eyeing him for awhile longer.

“He is falling in love with you, you know,” she almost whispered now.

“I am already in love with him,” Sirius replied. “Tell him to catch up.”

_____________

“Prongs,” Sirius urged. “James, if you are kidding me, I swear to—“

“I’m not, I’m not!” James laughed, cheery and bright. “I really am coming to visit.”

“James!” Sirius almost groaned, completely out of happiness that had recently made its place, settled permanently, deep within his bones.

“Oh, James, I’ve missed you so much! You’ll absolutely adore Lily. Oh, you’ll love her! And Remus, James, you’ll adore him too! Just don’t adore him too much, I’m quite fond of him, you know,” Sirius blabbered.

“I know, it’s the only bloody thing you talk about!” James exclaimed, although without any bite at all.

“Oh, but if you’d have met him,” Sirius sighed, overly dreamily. “Which you will! James!”

“Sirius!”

“Oh, I’ve gotta go talk to Remus! And you’ve gotta pack! I’ll talk to you later!” Sirius immediately remembered.

“Alright, alright. Talk to you later, love you,” James smiled.

“Love you too!”

The second they’d hung up, Sirius ran to the living room.

“Remus!” He smiled, soaking in how Remus startled, pushing his reading glasses to his forehead, smiling in that endearing way of his.

“Heard you on the phone before. Somethin’ exciting happening?” he asked, in that lovely, lovely, voice of his.

“James is coming!” Sirius blurted out. “he’s gonna visit us!”

Remus raised his eyebrows, smiling, as he put his book away. Sirius took the invite to crawl next to Remus, bask in his warmth.

“Really?” he asked happily.

“Really,” Sirius breathed out.

“This is sorta like meeting the parents, ain’t it? Should I be nervous?” Remus joked, although his voice was a bit strained in a nervous matter.

Sirius felt a surge of affection, and he fell in that scarily exciting way he’d found himself doing so often.

“Nah, he’ll love you. Everyone does,” Sirius shook his head. Remus smiled, pecked him on the cheek.

“Alright,” he said, as if Sirius’ judgement was so accurate that it was unimaginable to say against. As if Sirius was as clever as Remus was.

“D’you wanna stay here forever?” Sirius found himself asking, quiet now.

Remus hummed thoughtfully.

“Always wanted to travel. Although I’m a bit too poor,” he replied.

“We can travel,” Sirius said then. “I’m still the owner of Alphard’s old place, really. Could sell it. Then we could travel,” Sirius gently cradled Remus’ hand.

“Really?” Remus asked. Hopeful.

“Yeah,” Sirius smiled.

They were quiet.

“I wish you could meet my brother sometime. My last-name brother, that is,” Sirius mumbled.

He’d stopped calling Regulus his ‘real brother’ and James his ‘almost brother’ when Remus had told him they were both just as much of his brothers, just in different ways.

“Regulus?” Remus asked, face pressed against Sirius’ hair.

“Yeah,” Sirius replied.

“I’ll meet him,” Remus replied, certain and reassuring and lovely. “We’ll figure it all out.”

“Yeah,” Sirius smiled, warm. “We’ve got time, us.”

Remus smiled, hummed in approval.

Sirius was falling, falling, falling, deeper into Remus, leaning deeper into his chest. Remus brushed his hands through Sirius’ hair, and Sirius found he’d probably never stop.

The thought didn’t scare him. He found it hadn’t scared him for a very long time.