The One Where Remus Doesn't Wake Up First
There is calm in waking up from the rain hitting the windows, and the soft snoring of his roommates on the other side of the room, Remus thinks as he rubs at his sleep-filled eyes. It’s usually how their morning goes; Remus wakes first, from insomniac-filled nights, then follows James, whose goal is to annoy every Quidditch team player with practices before seven in the morning, Peter shortly after, because that boy cannot for the life of him go without food for longer than eight hours (even his internal clock knows this), Sirius follows last, his need for disappointing his mother by waking up late following him to Hogwarts during the periods he spends there.
This morning, however, is different; Remus realises as he checks his watch, mind still foggy from sleep and last night's fire whiskey. His watch tells him it’s eleven o’clock in the morning. This fact pauses his thoughts for a minute. He has never woken up so late before – apart from some of the full-moon nights. He checks his watch again, to make sure, and comes to the shocking realisation, that yes, it is eleven in the morning, and no, the snoring is not coming from the other side of the shared dorm. It comes from somewhere next to him, or better yet, it comes from someone whose head is currently on his chest – his bare chest.
Remus stills his movements as he tries to figure out who on earth is in his bed, and what on earth happened, the black hair being no clue to his dazed state. He didn’t have sex, did he? That would be embarrassing. The boys must find this hilarious, they would never let this go.
Somewhere during his panicking train of thoughts, Remus hears the door open.
“Remus,” James whispers, “Moony, are you awake? We can’t find Padfoot anywhere!”
“Hm? What about Pads?”
“We can’t find him, Remus, he’s not in his bed. Pete and I searched everywhere.”
“I don’t know, haven’t seen him, sorry Prongs. Have you tried the map yet?” Remus offers.
“We can’t find that either, do you think Pads took it? He must have, right? But why?”
“No, I–.” Remus stops himself from finishing the sentence when he looks down, because there – on his chest – is a mop of black hair that he couldn’t place a minute ago.
“Remus? You okay?” James asks. And Remus, softer than ever before, says: “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Sorry, James, haven’t seen the map. Think you’re right, Sirius probably has it.”
“Oh, okay then. Are you sure you’re all right? You sound a bit panicked there.”
“I’m good, Prongs, have you looked in the Astronomy tower yet? He likes to go there sometimes, remember?” It’s an attempt to get James out of the room as quickly as possible, and luckily for Remus, it works.
“Good one, Moony, I’ll go and check there now. Peter wants to go to the Great Hall to get lunch, do you want to meet there in half an hour?”
“Sure, sure. Let me know if you’ve found Pads, okay?”
“Of course,” James says, before walking out of the door and letting it fall shut behind him. Remus jumps from the sound and looks down towards the person lying on his chest, hoping he didn’t wake up.
It’s Sirius. Oh, Merlin, it’s Sirius.
And suddenly the memories from last night come flooding back to him. The fire whiskey, the truth or dare that Lily made him play, the punch (he had a lot of that), the countdown in front of the fire while everyone was so, so out of it that Remus thinks he must have had at least ten kisses on the cheek, and Sirius: Laying his head on Sirius’ lap, getting hugged by Sirius during the countdown, Sirius grabbing his hand to get some more punch, Sirius not letting go of his hand while counting down, Sirius kissing his cheek at midnight.
Remus sighs.
It was him, Remus, who grabbed Sirius’ hand a little past midnight after he’d wished everyone a happy new year. It was Remus who led Sirius upstairs, though, it wasn’t his intention to end up like this. Remus isn’t completely sure where it had taken this turn, but he remembers walking into the room first, dragging Sirius behind to walk towards the window, then stopping abruptly because of Sirius, who had stopped in the middle of the room and turned him around. Sirius hadn’t wasted any time after that, and before Remus knew it, his lips were against Sirius’.
It wasn’t magical like the books described it; no fireworks and singing angels, and they were both drunk and clumsy. But it was Sirius. Sirius who he had a crush on since their second year, Sirius who had shown him nothing but love and kindness since the day they first met, and who had shown him that he wasn’t the monster he thought he was.
Remus sighs again.
How could he have been so stupid to not stop after that kiss? Their friendship must be ruined forever, he thinks as he runs his fingers through Sirius’ hair. His eyes are heavy, and he finds himself slowly falling asleep again.