So Much Beauty in Dirt
He wasn’t sure how much sleep he could’ve possibly gotten that night with how often he was tossing and turning. He was starting to get upset with himself for how much he cared about Remus. He really should be able to accept that Lupin was his own person, he could make his own decisions. And he knew the marauders would be waiting for him when he came out of it. But Sirius was in every way a dog with a bone, once he caught a whiff of something he couldn't stop until his jaws were around it.
He needed to try a different approach with him, but he didn’t know what. His thoughts just kept circling as he cycled between periods of sleep. That smell on Remus’s breath, it wasn’t the first time Sirius had noticed it. It was whatever. It was fine. They’re 16, they were bound to be drinking and smoking sometimes, right? And if Sirius were to make a big deal out of this he would only have himself to blame when Remus pulled away for good. Through each wave of panic Sirius focused on the heat radiating from Remus’s back against his, he willed his mind to shut off and drift back asleep to the sound of his snoring.
•
“Would you listen to me, Jamie? Something’s not right with him,” Sirius shouted back to James while he and Peter rushed out to the quidditch field behind him. The empty field glowed with green and yellow, covered with early morning dew which clung to Sirius’s trainers as he pouted. James had gotten them up early with the idea for Sirius to blow off some steam, though he suspected that James was also clearing them out of their dorm to ensure that Remus would get his share of solitude. Still, James knew how affected he was when Remus pulled away from them. Merlin knows Sirius made it everyone else’s problem too.
“Well I think we all know what that might be, Sirius,” Peter mumbled, raising his eyebrows slightly as though Sirius needed to be reminded that Remus was a werewolf. He shot Peter a look so venomous Walburga would’ve been proud, and watched him shrink back to hovering behind James.
James dropped his broom to the grass and stepped forward to grab Sirius by the shoulders, “Pads, I love you, but this is just Remus, okay? You know how hard we had to work to convince him to even hang around with us, he just needs his alone time and you need to respect that.”
Sirius opened his mouth to explain the extent of his worries, but thought better of airing out all of his concerns in front of Peter, that worm was probably happy for these moods- to have one less person syphoning off James’s attention. A sound of protest escaped his open mouth, which he promptly snapped shut, and mounted his broom. On second thought, actually, he wasn’t able to let that be the last word. He met James’s eyes again with a pleading look, “But don’t you think I should at least-”
“No,” James interrupted firmly with an exasperated look, but Sirius could still see the fondness buried beneath. He returned to his broom, now damp from the wet grass, “Now watch me put you to shame on that field.”
He and James took off on their brooms, followed passively by Peter, racing through the sky and playfully attempting to jostle each other off of their booms. Sirius hated that this would definitely work on him, James giving him an outlet to project his energy onto, and James knew it too. It was humid today, the wet air blasting against his skin was cooling, and he felt himself release the tension he had been holding all night. He was able to forget about the pit which still sat heavy in his stomach.
____
The feeling of Sirius in his bed took up Remus’s entire mind, as it usually did. He was annoyed with Sirius, he could feel that he was, but he didn’t have the faculties to figure out why. All he could think of now was the brush of skin against his clothes as Sirius turned over, all he could hear was the soft puffs of air he released. Why would he push away someone he wanted around him so dearly? The firewhiskey tugged his eyes shut and postponed his thoughts as he settled into sleep.
He dreamt of his first days at Hogwarts. It was the beginning of fourth year and Remus knew nobody, he sat at a bench in the Great Hall by himself and resigned himself to catching up on studies. It was better this way- he never had friends before and he didn’t need to start now. His eyes would jump to the pale boy with black hair and trace his movements. He moved with a combination of grace and carelessness that Remus had never seen and he couldn’t look away. The confidence and comfortability that shined out of him, the way he always looked completely in place, wherever he went Sirius belonged. Remus had never belonged anywhere and was sure you would know by just looking at him.
•
He woke to an empty room, the side of his bed where Sirius had been the night before was a mess of crumpled bed sheets. He felt sick- his eyes sore, a deep ache in his head, and the exhaustion clung to his legs as he threw them over the side of the bed, sitting up. The movement made him want to puke but he tamped down the feeling. He shuffled to the bathroom and turned the shower on as hot as it would go, watching a frown settle onto his face in the mirror.
When he stepped in his skin scalded under the water, turning red, and the small room filled with so much steam that Remus nearly felt he couldn't breathe. He let his thoughts drift back to the night before. Shouldn’t he feel happy that Sirius wanted to know him, understand him? But then why did it set his teeth on edge every time he saw the concerned look in those silver eyes as Sirius asked if he was okay. He supposed it was pressing on that sore spot in himself, to want to have Sirius so badly while not wanting to give himself. If Remus was a gift he wouldn’t dare give it to Sirius- the wrapping was a mess, haphazard with sharp corners, and the box would probably be empty if you looked inside.
He huffed a laugh at the thought and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist. He walked back to his bed and slipped a hand beneath the mattress. Passing by the flask he kept for emergencies, he grabbed his cigarettes and lit one, cracking the window. He watched the early morning sun color the grounds vibrantly, glinting off the lake, and tried not to wince.