Highway to Nowhere

The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of the moon filtering through the windows, casting long shadows across the four-poster beds. The faint sounds of the castle were muted by the thick stone walls, the only audible noises being their breathing, quick and heavy, as if they had both just run miles. Sirius stood still, his fingers still intertwined with Remus’s, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that this moment was something neither of them would ever forget. The room felt different now, charged with something they couldn’t quite name. Something raw and open.

Sirius had never been one to shy away from his emotions, but even he had to admit—this felt bigger than any of the other moments they’d shared. It was as if the entire room held their silence, letting them bask in the aftermath of their kiss, each word unspoken but echoing loudly between them.

The tension, however, was still palpable. Remus hadn’t pulled away completely, but he was still a few steps back, his body slightly turned as if he wanted to keep some distance, some semblance of control. His gaze was focused somewhere off to the side, as though avoiding Sirius’s eyes, but Sirius wasn’t sure if it was because he was nervous or trying to process what had just happened.

Sirius swallowed hard, running a hand through his messy hair as he took a cautious step forward. He wanted to say something—anything—but the words felt so heavy on his tongue, tangled in the fear of ruining whatever fragile thing they had built between them.

“I—” he started, but his voice cracked a little, betraying the nerves he hadn’t expected. He cleared his throat and tried again, quieter this time. “We… we should probably talk about that, huh?”

Remus’s jaw clenched slightly, his hand still tightly gripping Sirius’s, but he didn’t pull away. He nodded slowly, though his eyes remained fixed on the floor. “Yeah,” he murmured, the word barely audible. “We should.”

Sirius’s heart fluttered in his chest. The hesitation, the quietness—it felt like a ticking clock in his mind, like any second now, things could unravel. Remus had always been good at keeping his distance, at shielding his thoughts, and Sirius wasn’t sure he had the right words to reach him this time.

“Remus,” Sirius began, his voice softer now, more tentative. He took a step forward, closing the gap between them, and gently cupped Remus’s cheek, guiding his face upward until their eyes met. There it was again—the uncertainty, the guardedness in Remus’s gaze. But there was something else, too. Something that made Sirius’s breath catch in his throat.

“I don’t know what this means,” Sirius continued, his thumb tracing along Remus’s jawline, his touch light. “I don’t know where we go from here. But… I want to figure it out. With you.”

Remus didn’t respond immediately, but his gaze softened, his lips parting slightly as if he were struggling to find the words himself. It was rare for Remus to be at a loss for words, but in this moment, Sirius couldn’t help but feel that they were both on the same uncertain ground.

Finally, Remus exhaled shakily, his voice low, but steady. “I don’t… I don’t know if I can do this, Sirius,” he admitted, his eyes flickering away again. “I’ve spent so long… keeping everything inside, pretending it’s not there. And now, it’s like I’ve let it all spill out, and I don’t know how to deal with it.”

Sirius’s chest tightened. He had always known Remus was a master at hiding his emotions—at keeping people at arm’s length, even those he cared about. But hearing him say it out loud, admitting how scared he was… It broke something inside of him.

“I don’t want to push you,” Sirius said softly, his voice quiet and sincere. “I never want to push you into something you’re not ready for. But I’m not going anywhere, Remus. I don’t care how messy it gets. I’m here.”

Remus’s eyes flickered back to Sirius, his expression torn. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again, his lips pressing into a tight line. There was a storm brewing in his eyes, a battle between the walls he’d built up for so long and the pull of something that was undeniably real between them.

The silence stretched out again, heavier now, as if both of them were waiting for the other to make the next move. And Sirius knew—he could feel it—that this moment was one of those turning points. One where they either took the plunge and embraced whatever was simmering between them, or they let it fade into nothing.

Sirius couldn’t let it fade. Not again.

Before he even realized what he was doing, he closed the distance between them, cupping Remus’s face in his hands and gently pressing his forehead to his. He could feel the heat of Remus’s skin, the soft hitch in his breath as their lips hovered close again, the tension crackling in the air like static.

“You don’t have to figure it all out now,” Sirius whispered, his voice low but filled with resolve. “But don’t push me away, okay? Don’t run from this. From us.”

Remus’s eyes fluttered shut, his breath shallow as his hands moved up to rest on Sirius’s chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. For a moment, everything was still. Then, slowly, deliberately, Remus nodded.

“I won’t,” he murmured, the words soft but carrying a weight that sent a shiver down Sirius’s spine. “I’m scared, Sirius. But I won’t run.”

Sirius’s heart swelled, relief flooding him in a rush. And with that, he kissed Remus again—this time slower, more measured, but with the same hunger and need that had been building between them for so long. It was a kiss that spoke of promises, of vulnerability, of the space between them that was finally starting to close 

The kiss began slow—tentative, as if neither of them quite believed it was happening. Sirius’s hands rested gently on Remus’s shoulders, but Remus was the one who deepened it first, leaning in, his lips parting with a sigh that stirred something inside Sirius. He wasn’t prepared for the way his heart raced, or the sudden pull in his chest as everything in the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them.

When they finally pulled apart, it wasn’t out of necessity. It was a shared breath, both trying to make sense of what had just happened. Their foreheads were pressed together, and Sirius’s hand hovered uncertainly, still unsure of what exactly he was supposed to do with all the chaos inside of him.

“Remus…” Sirius’s voice was hoarse, uncertain, and filled with something that resembled confusion. “Who was Grant?”

Remus froze. For just a second, it was as if the air had shifted, thickening with unspoken tension. His eyes snapped open, wide, and he pulled back slightly, though his face remained close enough for Sirius to feel the warmth of his breath. The vulnerability that flickered through Remus's expression didn’t quite match the guardedness that had settled in.

Grant. The name lingered like a ghost between them. Remus’s mouth pressed into a thin line, and Sirius caught the way his eyes darted away.

“Grant…” Remus said slowly, almost as if testing the name on his tongue. He looked back at Sirius. “He wasn’t really my... boyfriend.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, his pulse quickening with a mixture of curiosity and something else—something that made his stomach churn slightly. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but the last thing he thought would happen was this. Remus had been so... put together, so easy to read. He never gave anything away unless he was ready. And now, the last thing Sirius expected was a complicated explanation.

“So, you weren’t... together?” Sirius asked, trying to keep his voice steady. “But you were close, right?”

Remus ran a hand through his hair, shifting awkwardly. “It’s... complicated,” he muttered, glancing anywhere but at Sirius. “He was... the first person who really understood me, you know? But it wasn’t—” He hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the topic. “It wasn’t love, not really. But it wasn’t nothing either. We were both figuring things out.”

Sirius frowned, trying to understand, but the truth seemed to elude him. “Figuring things out?” he asked, his voice a little too sharp. “What does that mean?”

Remus’s eyes met his, the distance between them filled with something unspoken. “I was figuring out who I was. And he... well, he was part of that. It wasn’t something we talked about. It was just—” He broke off, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration. “It’s not easy to explain.”

Sirius stood still, processing everything that was happening. “What kind of figuring out, Remus?” His voice wavered for a moment, confusion clouding his thoughts. “You mean... that you—?”

“I’m gay, Sirius.” The words came out almost bluntly, but there was a quiet, painful weight behind them. “I wasn’t sure then, not really. But I knew I wasn’t like everyone else, and Grant... he was the first person who didn’t mind that.” He let out a deep sigh, glancing away again, this time with more discomfort in his eyes than Sirius had ever seen. “It’s not like you and I. It wasn’t the same. But... it was something.”

Sirius stood frozen for a moment. The words hit him like a wave, and for a second, he felt his breath catch. Remus was gay. Not just confused or uncertain, but... no. He was gay.

His mind raced, and Sirius’s throat suddenly felt dry. This was a whole other side to Remus that he’d never expected. They’d been friends for years, and he had never suspected, never even thought about it in that way. The concept felt jarring.

“I didn’t know,” Sirius said quietly, his voice feeling much too loud in the space between them. “But...” He swallowed, trying to clear the lump in his throat. “You... You were with him?” His voice shook a little on the last word, and he immediately hated himself for it.

Remus nodded, but his gaze faltered. “Yeah. But it wasn’t like—” He faltered, obviously trying to get his words right. “He wasn’t my boyfriend in the traditional sense. It was just... emotional, really. We were both lonely. I didn’t really know how to be with anyone, not back then. Not after everything that happened.”

Sirius felt a strange sense of guilt rising within him. He felt like he had been wrong—wrong about something, though he couldn’t put his finger on what. He had never known Remus to keep something so big hidden. They had always been open with each other. So why hadn’t Remus told him this before?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sirius asked before he could stop himself. He immediately regretted the words, feeling the bite of jealousy mix with confusion. His chest tightened, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had been missing all along. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

Remus looked away again, clearly uncomfortable. “I wasn’t ready,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know how. And... with everything, I didn’t want to bring it up. I was still trying to figure out what it meant. And I... I didn’t want to lose everyone. I thought they wouldn’t understand.”

Sirius was silent for a long moment, trying to make sense of everything Remus had just told him. He was still in shock—shocked that Remus had never told him about Grant, shocked that Remus had hidden such an important part of himself for so long.

But as his mind spun, something deeper began to emerge. He wasn’t angry, not really. It wasn’t about that. What gnawed at him, what stung, was how Remus had carried this burden alone. He had hidden this from everyone, even from Sirius, the one person he’d always trusted.

“So, Grant... he was... important to you?” Sirius finally asked, trying to keep his voice steady, though he felt a knot form in his stomach at the thought.

Remus’s eyes flicked to him again, the vulnerability in them making Sirius’s chest tighten. “Yeah. He was,” Remus said quietly. “But it wasn’t easy, Sirius. It wasn’t easy for either of us. It wasn’t like it is with you.” He paused, as if the weight of his own words had finally hit him. “But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t real.”

The silence stretched between them, the air heavy with a new understanding that Sirius wasn’t sure how to handle. Remus had loved Grant in a way that was complicated and messy. He wasn’t just the quiet, thoughtful, reserved Remus that Sirius had always known. There was so much more to him, and Sirius wasn’t sure if he was ready to understand it all.

But as the silence lingered, Sirius found that he didn’t need all the answers. Not yet. For now, all he needed was to be there for Remus.

The silence stretched on between them, thick and charged with unspoken emotions. Remus shifted slightly, glancing at Sirius, and Sirius couldn’t help but feel the tension pulling them in different directions. He wanted to say something, to offer some kind of comfort or reassurance, but the words felt stuck. How could he possibly find the right thing to say?

It wasn’t like anything had changed—at least, not in the way he had expected. Remus was still the same person he had always been, the person who had been by his side through thick and thin, the person who had trusted him with so much already. But now, Sirius was seeing him through a different lens, one that was still trying to process the sudden shift in everything.

“You... You’re still you,” Sirius said, almost to himself. He shook his head, trying to put his thoughts into words. “I just... I didn’t know. I didn’t know any of this, Remus.”

Remus nodded slowly, his eyes not quite meeting Sirius’s. “I know,” he whispered. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I thought maybe you’d think... well, I thought you’d think I was different. Like, like I wasn’t the same person you knew.”

Sirius shook his head vehemently, his heart thumping painfully in his chest. “No, no, Remus. I... I don’t think that. I don’t think anything less of you. I just didn’t know. I didn’t know how much you’d been carrying around, and I... I don’t know what to do with it.”

Remus let out a small, humorless laugh, finally meeting Sirius’s gaze. There was a rawness to his expression now, an openness that made Sirius’s chest tighten. “I don’t expect you to know what to do with it. I didn’t either.” His voice faltered slightly. “I still don’t. I just... I wanted you to understand.”

Sirius swallowed hard, feeling the weight of everything suddenly settle over him. He had always prided himself on being a good friend, but this—this was different. This wasn’t something he could just brush off or sweep under the rug. This was something important, something that Remus had been holding close for so long, something that now, in this moment, felt like it could change everything.

But the strange thing was, it didn’t feel like it was changing anything between them. Not in the way Sirius had feared. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that it didn’t matter to him if Remus had loved someone else before, or if that someone had been a he. All that mattered was the person sitting in front of him now. All that mattered was Remus.

Sirius took a deep breath and finally, hesitantly, reached out. He placed a hand on Remus’s, tentative but gentle. The touch was enough to send a ripple of warmth through him, and it seemed to ground them both in a way words couldn’t.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Sirius said, his voice steadier than he felt. “You’re still my friend. And if you need me... if you need anything at all... I’m here. You don’t have to do this alone, Remus.”

For the first time since the conversation had started, Remus looked truly relieved. He exhaled softly, his shoulders relaxing as if the weight of everything was finally starting to lift, even if just a little.

“Thanks, Sirius,” Remus whispered. His voice was low, almost shy, as he looked down at their hands. “I... I didn’t want to lose you.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” Sirius replied firmly. His thumb brushed gently over Remus’s hand, a silent promise in the gesture. “I’ve got your back, always.”

The moment felt like a turning point, even though neither of them had said everything that needed to be said. There was still so much left unspoken, so many questions, so many emotions left to untangle. But for now, they didn’t need to force it. For now, the quiet understanding between them was enough.

Remus nodded, his eyes softening. “I just... I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“You could never disappoint me,” Sirius said, smiling softly. “We’re friends. And if anything, you’ve just made me realize that maybe I don’t know you as well as I thought. But I want to. I want to know all of you, Remus. And I’m not going anywhere. I swear.”

Remus looked up at him, and there was a flicker of something—hope, perhaps—that passed through his eyes. He gave a small smile, the weight of his past still there, but it was lighter now, like it wasn’t all on him anymore.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke, simply content to sit in the quiet companionship they had always shared. And for the first time in a long while, Remus felt something he hadn’t known he needed—acceptance. No questions. No judgment. Just Sirius, sitting there with him, offering him the kind of understanding he hadn’t realized he craved.

He had a thousand questions that still hadn’t been asked—questions about Grant, about Remus’s past, about everything they hadn’t yet shared. But it was a delicate balance now, one Sirius didn’t want to shatter. He’d come so close to losing his best friend, and the last thing he wanted was to push too hard when it was clear that Remus was still processing it all.

But the curiosity burned in his chest. There were still so many things that didn’t quite add up, things that didn’t fit into the neat box he had always kept Remus in.

“Remus,” Sirius began, his voice quieter this time, careful. “I need to ask you something. About Grant.”

Remus stiffened slightly at the mention of his name, but he didn’t pull away. His eyes flicked to Sirius, and for a moment, Sirius thought Remus might close off again. Instead, he took a slow breath and nodded.

“What about him?” Remus asked, his tone guarded but open enough for Sirius to continue.

Sirius hesitated, unsure of how to phrase it, unsure if he even had the right to ask. But the words tumbled out before he could stop them. “Why didn’t you tell me about him sooner? You said... you said you had a... a relationship with him, but why did you never mention him? I don’t get it. He’s not just some... some friend, is he?”

Remus’s face tightened, the faint shadow of something darker crossing his features. He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous habit Sirius recognized. He seemed to be weighing his response carefully, as though trying to figure out how much of himself he could reveal without falling apart.

“He wasn’t just some friend, no,” Remus said softly, his gaze dropping to the floor. His voice was quieter now, tinged with something Sirius couldn’t quite place. “But he wasn’t... he wasn’t my boyfriend either. Not in the way you’d think.”

Sirius frowned. That didn’t make sense. “What do you mean?”

Remus looked up at him then, his expression more vulnerable than Sirius had ever seen it. “Grant was someone I... someone I cared about, okay? But it wasn’t like a normal relationship. It wasn’t—” He paused, seemingly searching for the right words. “It wasn’t about labels. It wasn’t about... being perfect or fitting into what people expected.”

Sirius felt a knot form in his stomach. He had never seen Remus so open about anything—especially not about his past. The words were coming out of him slowly, as though each one was a delicate thread that could unravel everything if pulled too fast.

“I didn’t have a boyfriend before,” Remus continued, his voice quiet and almost hesitant. “I didn’t even really know what I was feeling until I met Grant. And when I did... it wasn’t this perfect, clean, straightforward thing. It was messy. It was confusing. But it was real. He was... someone who cared about me in a way that no one else had. He didn’t care about the things that other people might—about what I was or how I looked or the stuff I couldn’t control.”

Sirius felt a pang of guilt twist inside him. He hadn’t understood, not fully, how much Remus had gone through. He hadn’t understood how much he had been holding inside. Remus had always been the strong one—the steady presence who seemed to have everything together, who kept it all locked away behind a calm mask.

But now... Sirius could see the cracks.

“That sounds... really hard,” Sirius said softly, the weight of Remus’s words sinking in. “I’m sorry I never noticed. I’m sorry I didn’t... I didn’t ask.”

Remus shook his head, his eyes flicking briefly to meet Sirius’s. “You didn’t know. How could you? I didn’t know how to tell you. It wasn’t something I could just say, not without... well, not without things changing. I didn’t want to change things, not with you.”

Sirius felt his chest tighten at the unspoken words hanging between them. Remus had kept all this to himself, kept it hidden in the shadows, trying to protect him from something that Sirius hadn’t even known was there. He hadn’t known how much Remus had been carrying on his own.

But now it was all spilling out, the truth of it—the complicated, tangled emotions that Remus had hidden from everyone for so long. And Sirius didn’t know what to do with all of it.

“So... Grant,” Sirius said, swallowing hard, “he was like... an emotional fling? A... an awakening for you?” The words felt clumsy, but Remus nodded.

“Yeah. That’s about the gist of it,” Remus said, the edges of his mouth lifting in the faintest of smiles. “I didn’t expect it to mean anything at first. It wasn’t supposed to be anything more than just someone who... understood me, I guess. And I didn’t know what to do with it. I still don’t, to be honest.”

Sirius felt a strange mix of relief and frustration. He hadn’t expected Remus to say anything like that. An “awakening” felt like the right word, but it was also confusing, because in the back of his mind, Sirius realized that he didn’t know how to reconcile the idea of Remus having had a relationship with a guy—much less someone who was not just some random acquaintance but someone with whom Remus had shared something real.

But more than that, Sirius’s own feelings were starting to bubble up. He had never allowed himself to wonder what this meant for them, for him and Remus. The kiss earlier, the way they’d fallen into each other without even realizing it—it was all still so new, still so raw.

Remus seemed to be reading his mind, as usual, and his voice softened. “I know it’s a lot to take in. It’s a lot for me too. But I just... I wanted you to know. I didn’t want to hide it anymore.”

Sirius swallowed, the words coming faster than he could stop them. “But what does this mean, Remus? Does this change things between us?”

Remus’s gaze softened as he reached out and placed a hand over Sirius’s, his fingers warm and steady. “No,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. “I don’t want it to change things. Not between us. I just... I just wanted you to know.”

The weight of the moment settled heavily on Sirius’s chest, and for the first time, he didn’t know what to say.

The weight of Remus's words hung in the air like a fragile thread, and Sirius couldn't bring himself to break it, even as his heart began to race. Remus had never been the kind to share much about his past—least of all his emotional life. To hear him speak so openly now was disorienting, but it also felt like a door had been opened into a part of Remus that Sirius had never fully understood. There was a vulnerability there, something raw, something that made Sirius feel like he was seeing Remus for the first time. And yet, despite the revelations, there was still a gap between them.

Sirius swallowed, his hand still resting in Remus’s, and the silence between them felt louder than any words they could have spoken. His thoughts were scattered, chaotic, as he tried to make sense of everything. The kiss, Grant, Remus’s confession—none of it fit neatly into the box Sirius had always kept their friendship in. And yet, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was something important, something real.

“You don’t have to explain it all to me,” Sirius finally said, his voice hoarse as he pulled his hand back, though he didn’t move too far. “But I think I get it... at least, I’m starting to. You’re not—”

He hesitated, unsure how to say the next part, unsure of how Remus might take it. “You’re not expecting me to be like him, are you?”

Remus’s eyes flickered, an emotion crossing his face too quickly for Sirius to read. It was like he had been caught off guard by the question, though he hadn’t expected anything else. Remus had always been the one to keep things close to his chest, always the one to shut things down when they got too close to the heart of the matter. But now, there was something different in the air, something more intimate than Sirius had ever felt between them.

“No, Sirius,” Remus said softly, his voice low but steady. “I’m not. I just... I just needed to tell you. I needed you to know, because I think it matters. And because I think you deserve to know what’s been going on with me. All of it.”

Sirius opened his mouth to reply, but the words died before they left his lips. His mind was still reeling from the new information, from the way Remus had just laid himself bare. And Sirius, despite all his bravado, had never been good at handling people’s emotions—especially not when it came to Remus, who always seemed to be so much more complicated than anyone else.

He let out a slow breath, trying to regain his composure. “I didn’t expect that,” he said quietly, and though his voice was steady, there was a slight tremble beneath it. “I didn’t expect to hear all of that. It’s a lot.”

“I know,” Remus murmured. He seemed to be hesitating, as though unsure whether to say more. “But... I needed to be honest with you. I didn’t want to hide it anymore. You’ve been a part of my life for so long, Sirius. I didn’t want to keep you in the dark, even if... even if I don’t know how to explain everything yet.”

Sirius nodded, though it felt like his mind was swimming with too many conflicting thoughts. He wanted to say something reassuring, something that would make everything feel like it was okay, but he couldn’t quite find the words. All he could do was sit there, beside Remus, feeling the strange sense of gravity pulling him into this new territory, this new version of their relationship.

For a long while, neither of them spoke. The only sound in the room was the soft rustling of the wind outside, and the occasional creak of the floorboards. Sirius kept his eyes trained on Remus, watching him closely, noticing how the other boy seemed to be lost in thought, his gaze far away.

Finally, Remus broke the silence.

“I didn’t tell you about Grant because I was afraid it would change things,” he said softly, his eyes meeting Sirius’s. “I was afraid it would change how you saw me. How everyone saw me. Because it was... it was something that I wasn’t sure how to deal with. I didn’t even know what to call it.”

Sirius’s heart thudded in his chest as he processed the weight of those words. “Remus... you don’t have to hide anything from me,” he said earnestly. “I’m not gonna judge you for whatever happened with Grant. I’m not like that. You’re my best friend.”

Remus smiled faintly at that, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I know,” he whispered. “But it’s not that simple. It’s not about you judging me. It’s about me judging myself. I’ve always had trouble with that. I’ve never been able to make sense of what I feel. What I want. And now I... I don’t know what to do with everything.”

Sirius felt a knot form in his stomach. He wanted to say something, to make it all better, but nothing seemed adequate. Instead, he just reached out again, his hand finding Remus’s.

“You don’t have to figure it all out right now,” Sirius said, his voice quiet but firm. “We’ve got time. And we’ve got each other.”

Remus’s gaze softened at that, and for a moment, the tension in the room seemed to ease, just a little

The quiet settled again between them, but it felt different now—more honest, more real. And for the first time, Sirius wasn’t afraid to let it be that way.

“I don’t know what this is yet,” Remus said quietly, his voice low. “But I’m not running from it anymore.”

Sirius’s heart gave a little jolt at those words, and he looked over at Remus, his best friend—the person who had always been so hard to figure out, so closed off—and realized that maybe, just maybe, they were both figuring it out together.

“You don’t have to,” Sirius replied softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Remus gave a small nod, but there was a deep, lingering tension in the air between them, a charged silence. His eyes flickered toward Sirius, something intense swimming beneath the surface. They were so close, closer than they had ever been before, and Sirius could feel his breath hitching in his throat. The weight of it all—of their closeness, of what had just been revealed—pressed heavily on his chest, and before he could stop himself, he leaned forward.

His lips met Remus’s in a soft, tentative kiss—gentle at first, as if testing the waters, unsure of what came next. But there was no hesitation, no pulling back. Remus responded almost immediately, his hand gripping Sirius’s shirt, pulling him closer as if he couldn’t get enough of him.

Sirius felt a rush of heat spread through him, his chest tightening as the kiss deepened, growing more desperate. The connection between them felt like it was sparking to life, a fire igniting beneath their skin that neither of them could control. Remus’s lips were soft, but there was an urgency in his touch, as if he, too, had been holding something back for far too long.

They broke apart for a breath, but the space between them felt unbearable. Sirius’s hands found their way to Remus’s shoulders, pulling him back into the kiss with a fierce intensity that he hadn’t even known he had in him. Remus’s mouth was urgent, his hands moving to tug at Sirius’s collar, as though he, too, had been waiting for this moment.

There was no gentleness now. It was raw, desperate, a frantic need that neither could deny. Sirius’s mind was spinning, heart racing, every part of him aware of nothing but Remus—the way he kissed, the way his body pressed against him, the way their lips moved together in sync as if they had been doing this for years. Every sensation seemed heightened, and it was all-consuming.

Their breathing was heavy, labored, but neither of them pulled away. It was like they had been standing on the edge of something, something that neither of them had the words for, and now, they were falling into it. Into each other.

When they finally parted again, both of them were breathless, their chests rising and falling in quick succession. Sirius’s hands were tangled in Remus’s hair, and he couldn’t help but feel a sudden, sharp sense of possessiveness, a need to hold on to this, to hold on to him.

Remus’s eyes were wide, a mix of shock and something else—something darker, more uncertain. But beneath it, there was a soft smile, something hesitant but real.

“I—” Remus started, his voice low and shaky. “Sirius, I—”

But before Remus could finish his sentence, Sirius kissed him again, quieter this time, more tender but no less insistent. They didn’t need words. Not now. Not when everything they were feeling was there, pressed between them, in the space where their lips met.

Sirius didn’t want to talk about what this was, or what it meant. All he knew was that for once, everything felt right. For once, it wasn’t complicated. It was just them, here and now, lost in each other.

And that was enough.