Orbiting

“Come on, mate. Just tell me,” James pleaded. “You’ve been smiling all day. Plus, you were even unusually nice to Wormy during breakfast this morning.”

“Haven’t the faintest what you’re on about,” Sirius replied with a nonchalant shrug, though the warmth creeping into his cheeks betrayed him, a subtle blush that spoke volumes of the secrets swirling within his mind.

James narrowed his eyes in mock accusation as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You can never keep a secret from me for long, Pads. Something happened. It is written all over your face. Might as well just come out with it.” His words dripped with playful insistence.

“You’re imagining things,” he murmured, feigning indifference as he ran a hand through his hair in an effort to regain some composure.

“Interesting, because Remus had a very different story when he got back to the dorm last night,” James said in a sing-song voice. “Thought you would want to tell me for yourself, but I guess I’ll have to stick with his version of events.”

Any composure he had managed was completely lost at these words. “What?! There’s no way Moony told you anything. He is entirely too secretive to blab to you.” Sirius said, cursing himself at admitting there was indeed something to blab about.

“Oh, but he did,” James teased, a smirk spreading across his face. “He might have even let slip a detail or two about your little rendezvous.”

Sirius squirmed slightly, the playful banter prickling at his nerves, yet there was an undeniable thrill underlying that discomfort—a spark igniting deep within him. “You can’t just take his vague words and twist them into some misbegotten narrative! What could he possibly say to implicate—”

“Implicate? He didn’t need to,” James interrupted, clearly enjoying the situation. “You should’ve seen the way his cheeks flared up when I asked about you two. He was as red as a beetroot. So tell me, was it a simple little peck or something more scandalous?”

Normally, Sirius would be chomping at the bit to tell James everything. But this—this felt different. He had been waiting for this moment for months, and he wanted it to be just theirs for a little while. Plus, he knew that Remus was an intensely private person, and he very much doubted that he would appreciate details of their first kiss to be broadcasted to his dorm mate. But what if James was telling the truth? What if Remus had already told him what had happened?

“Nothing scandalous took place, Prongs. ‘Fraid you are reading into things too much.” Sirius tried deflecting again.

James scooted to the edge of his bed to look at Sirius full on where he was seated at the desk chair. “Really? So I’m just reading into the fact that you just happened to wear his favorite jumper last night?”

“Yep,” Sirius said, popping the ‘p’ with an exaggerated head nod.

“And you dedicating a Bowie song to the moon?” James went on.

“Yep,” Sirius echoed his previous response, tilting his chair on its back two legs, attempting to remain casual.

“And you leaving the pub at the same time?” James asked, leaning forward even more.

“Yep,” Sirius said again, though he felt like he was walking into a trap.

“And Remus coming home late with a love bite on his neck?” James looked like he had just won a footie match, a satisfied grin overtaking his face.

No sooner had the words left James’ mouth than Sirius felt the chair lean back a tad too far, causing him to crash to the floor. The thud echoed through the cramped dorm room, causing James to erupt into laughter.

“Are you alright?” James called out between fits of giggles, leaning over, curiosity glimmering in his eyes like a child discovering treasure. “I knew you were head over heels for the bloke, but I didn’t think of it quite so literally.”

"Brilliant, mate! Really subtle there," Sirius snapped, half-joking but with an edge of genuine frustration. He pushed himself up from the floor, dusting off his jeans while trying to suppress a smile that crept onto his face despite himself. “You didn’t have to make me look like a fool, you know.”

James feigned innocence, hands raised in mock submission. “I’m just an innocent bystander in all this! It’s not my fault you’re clumsily in love.” As he settled back onto the edge of the bed, that cheeky smile still danced across his features, revealing the delight he found in his friend’s discomposure.

Sirius rolled his eyes and leaned against the desk, arms crossed defiantly over his chest. “Remus didn’t tell you anything, did he?”

“Not a word,” James admitted. “That boy is an absolute vault. Knew I’d crack you though.”

Sirius sighed, a mixture of irritation and amusement. His heart raced with the thrill of discovery, yet he was painfully aware of the fragility of this new connection with Remus. “You’re insufferable,” he remarked, unable to keep the faintest smile from tugging at his lips.

“But you love me for it,” James shot back, flashing his trademark grin that radiated warmth and unwavering friendship. The bond they shared was steadfast, built on years of trust and camaraderie, and Sirius valued that deeply.

“Yeah, well—just don’t go spreading anything around. He’ll bolt before we even have a chance to even start anything.” He halfway begged.

James waved his hand dismissively, the mirthful glint in his eyes betraying his sincerity. “Relax, Padfoot. I have no intention of ruining your budding romance. I’m well acquainted with Remus’ need for emotional space.” He said as he flopped back on the bed.

Sirius allowed himself to breathe, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. Yet deep within him lingered a flurry of emotions—excitement, fear, and an unshakeable desire to protect what he had with Remus. It was as if he were standing at the edge of a precipice.

“You know,” Sirius said, breaking the thoughtful silence that had crept back into their conversation, “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.” The admission slipped past his lips before he could rein it in.

James sat up, his previous levity momentarily replaced by a seriousness that was more akin to their past late-night heart-to-heart discussions. “Sounds big. I’ve never heard you talk about someone the way you talk about him,” he remarked thoughtfully, his tone muted as he processed Sirius’ words.

Sirius swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his own truth settle within him. “It’s terrifying,” he admitted.

James regarded him with a penetrating gaze, the kind that sought to understand rather than judge. “Terrifying can be good, you know. It means something matters.”

“It matters,” Sirius echoed, but the uncertainty threaded through his voice was unmistakable. “But what if I mess it up? What if he decides I’m not worth the trouble?”

The light danced across James’ glasses as he tilted his head side to side, seemingly mulling over how to respond. “You know, I haven’t know Remus as long, but I think he’s proper mad about you. I see how he gravitates to you in every situation, the way he looks at you when you aren’t looking, and there is no hiding how red he gets every time your name comes up.”

Sirius thought back to the previous night when Remus told him that he was his moon. He knew Remus didn't say things lightly. But he also meant what he had said. His parents had always made him feel unworthy of love, and the rift with Regulus reinforced that belief. The Potters were the only people who had ever shown him love. But it was different, familial in nature. Romantic love was something different entirely.

“What if he sees me for who I really am?” Sirius murmured, half to himself, as he stared at the scuffed wooden floor, his mind racing through memories of family dinners filled with biting remarks and cold silences. “What if he finds out I’m just... broken?”

“You don’t think Remus thinks the same thing? It’s not my place to share anything that he hasn’t said himself, and it’s not like I know a lot of details anyway, but it’s like I’ve said before, I think there is a reason you two are so connected.” James continued, his voice steady and reassuring, "Everyone has their struggles, and I think you and Remus have faced more than most. But it seems there is a natural understanding between you two that most will probably never fully grasp. It pains me that you have to bear this burden, but maybe sharing it might ease it a bit."

“Christ, you should study psychology or something. You are quite good at this whole talking to people thing.” Sirius chuckled, albeit half-heartedly.

“It’s just a knack I’ve picked up from being your friend for so long,” James replied, his tone lightening as he returned to his usual fun-loving demeanor. “Part of my charm.”

Sirius rolled his eyes again, but it was more for show than true annoyance. He appreciated the reprieve from the heaviness of their earlier conversation.

“Enough about me, let’s talk about something else,” he declared, deliberately shifting the focus away from his thoughts and uncertainties.

James brightened at the change in topic. “Alright, then—holiday plans! You know my parents are hosting us over the break. They’re so excited to see you.”

“I can’t wait for Effie’s sausage pasties. I’ve had dirty dreams about them.” Sirius mused.

James laughed, the sound reverberating like a joyful bell, ringing through the quiet room. “Just remember to keep your dreams to yourself in front of my mother! She is too pure for your culinary fantasies.”

Sirius grinned, images of the Potter home flooding his mind—warmth and laughter spilling from every corner, the scent of baked goods wafting through the air, mingling with the sound of James’ parents chiding them playfully for their endless antics. It was a haven, a reminder that family could be chosen rather than inherited.

“Please tell me we are going to do more than sit in front of the telly watching old Christmas movies,” Sirius said, only half jokingly.

“Oh, but that’s a cornerstone of any good winter break! But fear not, dear Pads, there will be more than just reruns and pastries. Thought we could do a bit of ice skating. It’s always a laugh watching you wobble around on the ice, flailing like a baby deer trying to walk for the first time," James teased.

Sirius feigned indignation, knowing full well that James’ description was incredibly accurate. “I’ll have you know that I am quite graceful on the ice—like a swan.” He paused, tapping his chin as if in deep thought. “A very rebellious swan, perhaps.”

James snorted, the laughter bubbling up from within him like a fountain, as if Sirius had just made the most outrageous joke. “A rebellious swan—it’s an image I can get behind. But let’s face it: however graceful you may think you are, I’ll be there to capture every glorious fall on camera.”

“Dare you,” Sirius warned playfully, a smile dancing on his lips as he narrowed his eyes in mock threat.

“You know it’s all in good fun! Besides,” he continued, leaning closer as if divulging a great secret, “I haven’t figured out what to get Remus as a Christmas gift yet. A picture of you on your arse seems like the perfect present.”

"That’s it, Potter! You’ve gone too far!" Sirius bellowed as he dove on top of James. They tussled on the bed in a tangle of arms and laughter, their scuffle filling the room with the familiar echoes of childhood play-fights.

“Alright, alright! Truce!” James gasped, throwing up his hands in surrender as he fought to catch his breath. “But only if you promise to spare me from your swan impressions or I might be forced to reconsider my friendship with a flailing bird.”

“For you, Prongs, I shall keep my swan in check,” he conceded with mock solemnity, raising an eyebrow as if weighing the gravity of such a promise. “But only if you vow to take me to Honeydukes after we go skating.”

James's face brightened at the mention of the beloved sweet shop. “Deal! Just don’t go trying to eat all of them at once like you did last year. I still remember the sugar crash you had—you were practically indistinguishable from a rock for two days.”

“Indeed, but what a glorious rock I was,” Sirius countered with a grin, leaning back against the headboard.

The door swung open, and in walked Remus, his cheeks tinged with a delicate blush that hinted at the chill of the evening air. He was wrapped in an oversized cream colored knit jumper that hung loose around his shoulders.

“Am I interrupting something?” he asked, his voice laced with a teasing lilt that belied the exhaustion etched on his features. The hint of a smile danced at the corners of his mouth, a subtle acknowledgement of their mischief.

“Not at all!” James said, “We were just discussing Sirius’ graceful ice skati—”

His words were abruptly cut short by Sirius smacking him in the gut.

“We were just discussing winter break plans.” Sirius supplied instead. “Anyway, where have you been?”

“I had a shift at the library, and then I stopped by the common room to call a friend,” Remus replied, peeling off his woolly hat and shaking out his curls.

Sirius's heart skipped a beat at the sight of Remus, his soft features illuminated by the warm glow of the room. He quickly softened his teasing tone, a more genuine curiosity threading its way through his words. “A friend? Someone back home?”

“Sort of,” Remus started as he kicked off his shoes and settled onto his bed. “That’s where we met, but he lives here in London now.”

“Grant?” James asked. “How’s he been? He should come ‘round soon. He’s a good lad.”

“We were talking about getting together over break since I’m staying here. ”What day are you leaving?” Remus asked.

“Sorry,” Sirius cut in, his voice steady despite the flutter of unwarranted jealousy in his chest. “How do you know this bloke, Prongs?”

James shrugged, his expression light and untroubled as he considered the question. “He stayed with us for a night at the start of term, and the three of us went for a fry up the next morning before he had to leave.”

Sirius’s brow furrowed slightly. “He stayed here? What, on the floor?”

Remus wrapped his arms around his drawn-up knees as if he was preparing to protect himself. “No, he shared my bed.”

“Shared your bed?” The words slipped from his lips, laden with an edge that surprised even him. He tried to mask it with humor but failed—there was an uncharacteristic tightness in his voice, as if every syllable had been pulled taut like a bowstring.

“Yeah,” Remus replied, lifting his chin defensively, an instinctive wall rising around him. “We are friends, Sirius. I wasn’t about to relegate him to the floor. Do you have a problem with that?”

His eyes searched Sirius's face for understanding, but there was a flicker of something else, something faintly wounded beneath that calm exterior.

Jealousy prickled at his insides, gnawing away at the threads of reason. He swallowed hard against it, but the bitterness coiled tighter around his resolve, and he floundered for an appropriate response.

"Just didn’t know you made a habit of sharing your bed with people, is all," Sirius snipped. He knew he was overreacting. At the start of term, he had barely known Remus, let alone his history. Maybe nothing had ever happened between them—maybe they were just friends. It wasn’t as if he and James had never shared a bed before. And even if there was something between them, it shouldn’t matter. He had past relationships of his own; he had no room to judge.

Remus’s expression froze, caught between surprise and hurt. Sirius felt a pang of regret blossom within him—a flicker of awareness that he had crossed an invisible line.

“Are you serious?” Remus asked, his voice hard, tinged with disbelief. He shifted slightly, withdrawing into himself as if seeking refuge from the sudden tension in the room. “What the fuck is your problem?”

James, who seemed to sense the temperature drop in the room like a storm cloud gathering overhead, leaned forward, his cheerful demeanor faltering as he interjected. “Alright, lads, let’s take a step back here. This isn’t—”

“No, it’s fine,” Remus interrupted sharply, cutting off James’ attempt at mediation. The tension was palpable now. His voice softened slightly, but it still held an edge. “I want to know what his issue is.”

Sirius flinched at the bite in Remus's tone, feeling the weight of the words hang heavily in the air between them. A mixture of regret and the raw jealousy that flared within him like an unwelcome flame.

“Look, I didn’t mean—” Sirius started, but the words fell flat against the tension tangling around them.

“Didn’t mean what?” Remus challenged

Sirius opened his mouth to retort, but the words lodged like stones in his throat. He shifted his eyes between James and Remus, not sure if he was silently asking for help or space.

"Right, well, I told Lily I’d meet her at the dining hall," James said, sliding off the bed. He quickly put on his shoes and grabbed his coat before heading for the door. Just as he reached it, he paused, glancing back at them. "Just play nice, yeah?"

With that, he made his exit, the door clicking shut behind him.

Remus turned his gaze away from Sirius and instead stared at the worn fabric of his duvet.. The corners of his mouth tightened, forming an almost imperceptible frown that tugged at Sirius's heart.

Tentatively, Sirius ambled off James’ bed and made his way toward Remus’, half-unsure if he was welcome. His heart lurched at the sight of the love bite adorning Remus’ neck. The way Remus sat now—knees tucked to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around himself—felt worlds apart from the way he had been last night, and he knew it was his fault.

“Remus,” he murmured, his voice softer now, stripped of bravado. He took a cautious step closer, heart racing as he searched for the right words, the ones that could bridge this widening gulf. “I didn’t...”

He faltered again, the vulnerability clawing at his chest.

After a stretch of silence, Remus echoed his earlier question. “You didn’t mean what?”

“Look, I didn’t mean to imply… to make you feel like you had to justify anything,” he finally managed, though the tremor in his voice betrayed the turmoil raging within him. “I’m—”

“I didn’t jump down your throat when I found out you and Mary had dated. You’re still friends with her. You don’t even know anything about Grant—you just assumed," Remus said, his voice tight. "And yes, I’ve been with Grant, but it wasn’t like that when he came to visit. He came because… it doesn’t even matter." He exhaled sharply, still refusing to meet Sirius’ eyes. "I barely knew you back then anyway. I shouldn’t have to defend my friendships to you."

“Remus,” he whispered again, willing the name to carry the weight of his sincerity—an olive branch offered in hopes of smoothing the rift he had unwittingly carved. “You’re right—I jumped to conclusions, and I’m sorry.”

Sirius watched as Remus slowly uncurled himself and pushed himself to his feet, a bit unsteady on his leg. For a moment, he thought Remus might step closer—but instead, he turned and headed for the door. It had taken months to get Remus to open up, and now Sirius could feel it slipping away in seconds. Panic bubbled in his gut. How had he managed to mess this up in a single conversation?

Desperate, he reached out, fingers brushing against Remus’ wrist—only for Remus to snatch his arm away the moment they made contact.

“Don’t touch me,” Remus spoke the words with an icy detachment, yet Sirius could see the tremor that betrayed his own conflicted emotions. He had to fix this right now.

Remus turned away again and started walking. Sirius didn’t think—he just moved, quickly catching up to him by the door. He reached out, his fingers barely grazing Remus’ back, when in an instant, Remus spun around, seizing Sirius’ wrists and shoving them above his head, pinning him against the wall. His grip was secure—firm enough to assert control but not to inflict pain.

Remus leaned forward until his forehead pressed against his. The tension between them shifted at that moment. Every nerve in Sirius’ body seemed acutely aware of the electric energy sparking between them. It was as though the world evaporated, and all that remained was the singular intensity of their suspended desire.

“Touch me then,” Sirius whispered, the plea slipping out softly, raw and vulnerable, and hanging in the dim light like a fragile promise.

In response, Remus closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. With deliberate care that bordered on torment, Remus shifted his head, his lips ghosting along Sirius’ jaw and kindling a trail of fire.

“Keep your hands here,” came the quiet order as Remus released his hold, and Sirius felt the light, almost imperceptible caress of his fingers meandering down his arms. The sensation was delicate. Then Remus’ hands found their place on his hips, thumbs softly circling the thin fabric of his shirt.

Sirius closed his eyes, his long lashes casting fleeting shadows over his high cheekbones in the dorm room’s half-light while a subtle sound escaped his lips, a fragile noise that beckoned Remus to lean in closer.

Time stretched taut between them, every second loaded with anticipation, as Remus’ hands danced along the rim of the fabric. With measured pace, Remus slid his hands beneath Sirius’ shirt, his cool fingers contrasting starkly with the heat of his skin as each contour was traced with reverence. Sirius felt like Remus was mapping his body.

A quiet thud marked the moment when Sirius’ head fell back against the wall, revealing the elegant line of his throat in all its vulnerability. Remus drank in the view—the sharp angles of Sirius’ features softened by desire, the usual playful defiance replaced by open, pained longing.

Hovering so close that his lips nearly brushed Sirius’ throat, Remus was a breath away, his presence overwhelming. Sirius’ pulse pounded beneath his skin, quick and unsteady, as if speaking in a language only Remus could understand. A single, soft kiss landed in the hollow of Sirius’ throat, and a soft moan slipped from his mouth. Remus moved his way upward, trailing kisses that coaxed gentle twists and squirming subtleties from his body.

Sirius’ arms, still confined above his head, twitched with the desire to reach out. Remus watched with a quiet satisfaction at the obedience in Sirius’ silence, his fingers continuing their exploration along Sirius’ contours, teasing along the ridges of his ribs and the planes of his chest.

When Remus’ fingernails scraped across his nipples, a strangled gasp escaped him, and he arched involuntarily into the contact. The repeated motion was an unspoken conversation—a silent exchange of admiration and need.

“Moons,” Sirius panted, his voice echoing both command and a pleading prayer. “Please, please, please.”

Remus pulled back for a heartbeat, his eyes carefully studying the transformation on Sirius’ face—the normally cocky expression replaced now by flushed, raw desire—and mused, “So polite when you are like this.” He leaned down again, hovering just out of reach and intensifying the mouth-watering teasing. Sirius’ tongue flicked out to moisten his lips, a signal that bridged the anticipation into unspeakable need, and before long, their mouths met in a kiss that was at once everything and yet too little.

Their kiss deepened, tongues exploring and teasing, while Remus pressed Sirius more firmly against the wall. Sirius’ arms trembled above as he strained to remain in place, the struggle a testament to his eagerness to please Remus.

“You’re doing so well,” Remus murmured, his voice soft yet insistent. “What do you want?”

A gentle blush warmed Sirius’ features as he searched his own inhibited longing. “Your mouth…please,” he managed, his words trembling with a mix of submission and desperation.

“Where?” Remus asked hungrily.

“Everywhere,” Sirius replied, his voice coming out straggled.

A quiet sound of approval passed Remus’ lips before he rewarded the honesty with a tender bite on Sirius’ neck, softening any sting with his tongue. He brushed his lips along the shell of Sirius’ ear, softly promising, “As you wish.”

Gently, Remus guided him toward the bed. At its edge, with deliberate care, Remus pushed the fabric of Sirius’ shirt up and over his head, letting it fall softly onto the floor.

As Sirius lay back, Remus straddled his hips, and the mattress dipped under their shared weight. A moment of unvoiced acknowledgment passed between them—a meaningful glance—before Sirius instinctively raised his hands above his head and interlaced his fingers on the pillow.

With quiet confidence, Remus leaned over Sirius and began placing open-mouthed kisses along his collarbone, each one causing Sirius’ breath to quicken. Remus’ tongue charted intricate patterns along heated skin, like he was savoring the taste, as he continued his slow descent, mapping every inch of Sirius’ torso with careful, adoring attention.

Sirius writhed beneath him, his hands clenching desperately into the pillowcase as he fought to remain still—a futile effort given how his body arched upward, pleading for more. Remus rewarded his obedience with a gentle nip on his hip, drawing a strangled moan from deep within.

“You’re exquisite like this,” Remus murmured softly, his fingertips dancing over the goosebumps that now covered Sirius’ skin.

When Remus reached the waistband of Sirius’ trousers, he paused to look up the length of Sirius’ body, his eyes lingering over him as if committing every detail to memory. “May I take these off?” he asked, his voice in a husky tone.

“Yes. Fuck. Yes,” Sirius replied, his pupils wide with a blend of awe and mounting fervor.

With deliberate care, Remus unfastened the button and slid the zipper down. His fingers glided into the waistband, easing the fabric away as Sirius slightly lifted his hips to help. His trousers were peeled away, joining the discarded shirt on the floor.

“Beautiful,” Remus murmured as he leaned down to press a kiss to the inside of Sirius’ knee. Slowly but surely, he worked his way upward, alternating between lingering kisses and soft nips.

At the last patch of exposed thigh, Remus paused, his warm breath ghosting over the sensitive skin. Sirius whimpered softly at the close proximity to where he desperately wanted Remus’ mouth. A reassuring hand appeared on Sirius’ hip, the thumb tracing slow, soothing circles.

“Patience,” Remus murmured.

“Christ, you are such a bloody tease,” Sirius exhaled as he gripped his own hair, trying to ground himself.

Remus chuckled softly as he snapped the band of Sirius’ pants. “And you love every second of it,” he teased.

Sirius inhaled sharply at the snap, his body tensing in response. “You know me too well,” he managed, the faint echo of his usual bravado mixing with vulnerability despite the intensity of the situation.

A wicked smile played on Remus’ lips as his fingers lightly traced the outline of Sirius’ growing arousal through the thin fabric. Sirius’ hips bucked uncontrollably in a bid for more contact.

“Ah, ah,” Remus chided gently as he withdrew his hand. “Stay still.”

Sirius mewled at the sudden loss, his fingers twisting anxiously in his hair as his body trembled with the effort of following instructions.

Leaning back in, Remus’ warm breath fanned over the fabric as he nuzzled against the barely contained bulge, drawing out another strangled moan from Sirius. With painstaking slowness, Remus mouthed along its length, his warm breath seeping through the cotton and igniting every nerve.

Every fiber of Sirius’ being grew taut with the effort of remaining still, his breathing shallow and sharp, punctuated by involuntary whimpers that only deepened the intoxicating atmosphere.

“Please,” Sirius cried out, pushing his head further into the pillow. “Moony, please… I need them off.”

Remus’ response was a low, approving hum as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of Sirius’ pants. After a brief, lingering look at Sirius’ expectant face, he removed the remaining garment, adding it to the growing pile on the floor, leaving Sirius entirely exposed and deliciously bare.

Taking his time, Remus lowered his head, his warm breath skimming over Sirius’ length until it twitched under the delicate stimulation. Sirius’ hands clenched and unclenched, his need palpable in every movement.

A feather-light kiss landed on the tip, causing Sirius to gasp in surprise. Remus’ tongue darted out, etching a delicate path along the underside, drawing out a moan from deep within Sirius.

Remus’ warm mouth enveloped him, causing Sirius to snap his eyes shut. With each stroke, Remus seemed to gain more confidence from the noises he was provoking.

“Fuck, Moony,” Sirius gasped, his voice low and rough with need.

Remus hummed in response, the new sensation ripping a chorus of breathless exclamations from Sirius. Remus maintained a maddeningly slow rhythm, leaving Sirius on the precipice of oblivion.

“Tell me,” Remus coaxed during a pause, “What do you need?”

Between ragged breaths, Sirius managed, “Need to touch you.”

A spark passed between them, and Remus looked like he revelled in the honesty of the plea as he ordered, “Put your hands in my hair.”

No sooner had the words been spoken than Sirius’ fingers eagerly threaded into the soft brown curls. Remus leaned into the touch, a quiet groan escaping him when Sirius gave a small tug.

Encouraged, Sirius guided Remus’ head, setting a slightly quicker pace. Remus adapted, relaxing his jaw to take Sirius deeper, a heady mix of sound and movement filling the room with Sirius’ ragged breathing.

“Moony, I’m close,” Sirius gasped, his voice strained with the imminence of release. “So close.”

At those words, Remus intensified his ministrations, hollowing his cheeks and swirling his tongue until a sinful, resonant sound tore free from Sirius. His back arched dramatically off the bed, a strangled cry marking the moment as he came undone, and Remus, ever attentive, continued through every shuddering pulse until Sirius lay spent, panting against the mattress.

Slowly, Remus pulled away, scattering gentle kisses along Sirius’ hipbones as he retraced the path back up his body before placing a tender kiss on Sirius’ lips. Remus settled beside him on the bed and drew him into his arms. Sirius pressed closer, his breath whispering against Remus’ neck, as they lay in a silken silence, until Sirius’ pulse ebbed to a gentle, harmonious calm.

“That was…” Sirius began, his voice trailing off in wonder and awe.

Remus chuckled softly as he murmured, “Indeed it was.” His tone carried warmth and affection in equal measure.

Sirius tilted his head upward, his eyes dancing with a glimmer of his usual mischievous spark. “Can I return the favor?” he purred softly, his hand trailing down Remus’ chest in inquiry.

With a careful yet determined motion, Remus caught Sirius’ wrist, lifted it to his lips, and pressed a soft kiss on it.

“Not tonight, love,” he murmured with gentle finality. “This was for you. I just want you to know that I meant what I said last night.”

“I know, and I’m sorry for being such a prat earlier. I lost it a bit at the thought of you sharing your bed with the bloke.” Sirius answered sincerely.

“Grant is actually the one that told me to stop being daft and tell you how much I fancy you,” Remus said with a half chuckle.

Sirius turned his head to look at Remus. “What? How does he even know?”

Remus gently brushed the hair from Sirius’ face and said, “I usually talk to him once a week. Think it only took three phone calls before he started badgering me to tell you." He let out a small breath, then added, "When I spoke to him today, I told him about last night… well, not everything—just that I finally fessed up and that we kissed.” A soft smile tugged at his lips. “He was happy for me.”

“Sounds like a good lad,” Sirius replied, feeling a warmth bloom in his chest.

“He is,” Remus said earnestly. “Now, can you put your clothes back on so we can go get some food? I’m bloody famished.”

"Famished, you say?" he replied with a teasing lilt, his fingers playfully brushing against Remus' jawline. "What an odd choice of words for someone who just devoured—”

His words were cut off by a kiss. But it was over just as quickly as it started.

“Shut up and put your clothes on, or I’m leaving you here for James to find,” Remus remarked as he moved to get up.

“Christ, didn’t realize until tonight how much I have a thing for you ordering me around,” Sirius replied as he started pulling his clothes back on.

Remus shook his head laughing, “You are a right menace.”

"Too right," Sirius said with a wink, a cheeky smile tugging at his lips as he sauntered toward the door.