High and Dry

Remus did not expect things to change after his party. But, always proven wrong, Remus had awoken the following morning to James peering down at him, expression tight.

“Sirius didn’t come to bed last night,” he said, voice clipped.

“Where is he now?” Remus asks.

“Hell if I know. I can’t find the map.”

Sirius had been in the Great Hall, and when the boys found him, he barely acknowledged them. He just gave them a curt nod and stared down at his plate. Before Remus could even pour a cup of tea, Sirius had stood, the motion tense, and strode from the table without a word.

Remus couldn’t make sense of it.

Throughout that day, every time he looked at Sirius, he saw a distance—a coldness that wasn’t there yesterday. It was as if the walls had gone back up, as if everything that had happened the months before had been erased from Sirius’s mind. The fear gnawed at Remus’s insides. This behavior continued for days. James was no less frustrated. A week after Remus’ birthday, he finally cornered Remus, of all places, in the shower. 

Remus had been half-distracted, trying to rinse off the remnants of sleep, when he heard James’s voice cutting through the steam.

“Remus,” James said, voice low and intent. “We need to talk. What happened last week? Why is Sirius so bloody quiet again?”

Remus froze, his hands instinctively moving to cover himself, feeling an immediate rush of embarrassment. “James! I’m naked!” he protested, face flushing.

James scoffed, his voice dismissive. “I’ve seen you naked loads of times, mate. Don’t be a prude.”

Remus didn’t know how to respond to that. He shut his eyes in frustration and muttered, “I don’t want to talk about it here. Not like this.”

James rolled his eyes and shut the shower curtain roughly. He was relentless, and Remus could hear the faint sound of him leaning against the bathroom door. Remus hurried his movements, and soon stepped out the shower, hastily grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his waist. He leaned against the bathroom sink.

James’ tone softened slightly, but there was no mistaking the urgency in his voice. “Come on, mate. What happened after you two left the common room? He was fine that night, but now it’s like we don’t exist.”

Remus’s heart twisted. He ran a hand through his wet hair, trying to organize his thoughts.

“I—I don’t really know,” Remus said quietly, eyes lowered. “Sirius gave me his gift, it was… intimate, I guess. I thanked him. But then we left to to back to the common room, and everything was fine. I went upstairs… and I just passed out. I don’t know what happened after that.”

James was silent for a moment, clearly absorbing the words. Then, a frustrated sigh slipped from his lips. “You’re an idiot, you know that, right?”

Remus bristled immediately, a flush of anger rising in his chest. “What? I didn’t do anything wrong.”

James wasn’t having it. “Remus, stop lying to yourself. I know what’s going on. I know you. You’re in love with Sirius.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. And maybe it was, but it still made Remus’s heart stutter in his chest.

He looked at James, at his wide, earnest eyes, and his heart began to pound, faster than before. “I—what?” Remus stammered, the words thick on his tongue. He could feel his face burning. 

James just rolled his eyes, as if Remus’s confusion wasn’t worth hearing. “It’s obvious, mate. You’ve been in love with him for years.”

Remus tried to shake the feeling rising in his chest, to shake away the dizziness that accompanied hearing it from James, of all people. “No, I’m not.”

James crossed his arms, watching him with that knowing, infuriating look. “Sirius is in love with you too, Remus. Don’t you see it? He wouldn’t act the way he does if he didn’t care about you. I’ve seen it. Hell, I’ve seen it in him since first year. He’s not as good at hiding it as he thinks.”

Remus scoffed, the sound bitter in his throat. “That’s not true.”

James’s expression softened slightly. “I’m telling you, mate. He’s just scared. He’s always been scared.” He paused, and Remus could hear the weight in his words. “It’s easier for him to pretend he doesn’t care. Easier than letting someone in and actually—well, you know.”

“I don’t… I don’t want to hear this,” Remus said, his voice tight. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do with the information James had just dropped on him. His head was swimming with all the possibilities, all the doubts.

James was persistent though, as always. “I’m just telling you how it is. You’ve got to talk to him. You’ve both got to figure it out. Because, Remus… this thing between you two? It’s not just some phase. You’re both in this, whether you like it or not.”

Remus didn’t say anything more. He just stood there, his hands gripping the edge of the countertop, trying to keep himself together. His heart was hammering, and he was suffocating under the weight of everything James had said. He didn’t want to think about it, didn’t, couldn’t, want to believe it. But a part of him already knew that James might not be wrong.

But the more he tried to tell himself it wasn’t true, the more it gnawed at him.

—----------------------------

Remus was awoken by a deafening scream.

Remus jolted upright, his heart hammering in his chest, like he'd been splashed with freezing water. His breath came in ragged gasps as he looked around wildly, trying to make sense of the shrill sound that had woken him. His eyes darted to the dark room, his senses sharp, but there was nothing—just the faintest murmur of movement from his friends in the beds beside him.

Then, it came again—a scream, raw and filled with terror. Remus was on his feet instantly, his head spinning from how fast he moved, still half-dazed from sleep. His pulse pounded in his ears, but he didn’t waste time. 

His heart twisted in his chest when he looked toward Sirius’s bed. He was writhing, his body convulsing as if he was fighting something invisible off.  Another scream echoed from his throat, and Remus felt a jolt of panic that nearly stopped his breath. He scrambled for his wand, still disoriented, and muttered a lumos to cast a faint light into the dark room.

Sirius’s His face contorted in terror, his cries muffled and indistinct. Remus rushed over, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch his shoulder, trying to shake him awake.

"Sirius! Sirius, wake up!" Remus’s voice was frantic as he pressed a hand against his friend's shaking body. His words seemed to bounce off the walls of the room, swallowed up in the chaos of the night.

Peter and James had awoken as well now. Peters eyes wide with fear, but he didn’t move. His back was stiff against the headboard of his bed, watching the scene unfold in frozen terror. James, however, was quicker, throwing off the covers and leaping out of bed. His movements were rapid but controlled, and he immediately joined Remus by Sirius’s side, his face pale in the dim light.

"Sirius!" James shouted, his voice sharp as he bent down beside Remus. "Wake up, mate!"

But Sirius didn’t wake. Instead, his tossing and turning worsened. His eyes were shut tight, and his mouth moved in muted sobs. Remus’s stomach twisted. This wasn’t just a nightmare. This was something more—a memory, something so deep and painful that it had him trapped in the dream. He could see it in the way Sirius was shaking, fighting something that only he could see.

Remus knew what Sirius was remembering.

Suddenly, the sharp crack of water splashed across Sirius’s face, and James stood there, wand raised, his face a mix of fear and frustration. "Wake up, you bloody idiot!" James growled, his wand still pointed at Sirius. The shock of the water didn’t seem to work, though. Sirius jerked back with a startled shout, and in his panic, he swung his arm wildly, not realizing where he was.

Remus didn’t have time to react. Sirius’s fist collided with his chin with a sickening thud. The force was so powerful that it sent Remus tumbling backward, crashing into the cold floor with a painful clunk.

The world spun around him, his vision hazy from the blow. He lay there for a moment, disoriented, the pain radiating from his jaw.

Sirius sat up in bed, his eyes snapping open as if he were still trapped in the nightmare. He looked around wildly for a moment, his breathing shallow and fast, before his gaze locked onto Remus. The guilt was almost palpable in the way Sirius’s eyes flickered between fear and concern, and before Remus could even process it, Sirius scrambled out of bed, practically tripping over himself as he rushed to his side.

“Sirius, no,” Remus started, but the words felt empty in his mouth as Sirius dropped to his knees beside him. The flood of apologies came in a torrent, his voice choked with emotion.

“I’m so sorry, Remus, I didn’t mean it, I didn’t—I just—” Sirius’s words were rushed, incoherent, as tears began to spill down his cheeks, his face pale and twisted in distress.

Before Remus could do anything, James moved quickly, sitting beside them both. His hand gripped Sirius’s shoulder, shaking him gently, his voice firm but soft, trying to ground him. “Sirius, it’s okay. It’s okay, mate,” James said, his tone more reassuring than Remus had ever heard before. “You didn’t mean it. It’s just a nightmare.”

Peter had finally stirred from his bed, looking less terrified now, and joined them on the floor. He sat a bit apart, unsure and silent. The room was still heavy, the remnants of terror and panic lingering in the air.

But Sirius shook his head furiously, his hands trembling as he wiped his eyes. “No, no it’s not alright, James. I— I hurt him. I… I hurt Remus…” He glanced at Remus, his expression breaking even more. “I didn’t mean to, Remus, I swear I didn’t—”

Remus squeezed Sirius’s hand before he even realized what he was doing. His voice was soft but firm. “Sirius, it’s okay. It’s fine. The nightmare’s over. It’s in the past. You didn’t hurt me.” He kept his grip on Sirius’s hand, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over his knuckles. He needed to calm him down, to remind him that it wasn’t real, that everything was okay. “It’s all right,” he said again, his words a steadying force in the chaos of the moment. “You’re here. You’re safe. It’s not your fault.”

Sirius looked at him for a long moment, as though trying to process Remus’s words, but the guilt and fear still lingered in his eyes, pulling at him like an anchor. He shook his head again, his voice low and strained. “But you’re bleeding… I didn’t mean it to, Remus.”

Remus hadn’t noticed the blood at first, but now that Sirius mentioned it, he could taste the coppery warmth in his mouth. His lip was split, and blood had begun to drip down his chin, staining his shirt. The pain was there, but it was nothing compared to the look on Sirius’s face. It wasn’t the blow that hurt most—it was the way Sirius was falling apart in front of him.

He tightened his grip on Sirius’s hand, willing him to calm down. “It’s okay,” he repeated, his voice steady despite the ache in his jaw. “It’s just a cut. It’s nothing. Please, just breathe, alright? You didn’t hurt me. You’re not the one to blame.”

Sirius’s shoulders slumped, but he stopped shaking his head. Slowly, his breathing began to even out, though his eyes still held traces of fear and guilt.

James, still hovering beside them, gave a small sigh of relief as Sirius began to settle, though his face was still tense with concern. Peter gave a quiet, nervous glance between them.

“It’s alright,” Remus whispered, leaning closer to Sirius. He carefully wiped at the blood with his sleeve, his hand still resting gently on Sirius’s. “I’m fine. We’re all fine. Let’s just… let’s just sit for a minute, yeah?”

—----------------------------

They sat there for more than a minute. It was more like a couple of hours. At some point, Peter had gone back to bed, and James, after giving Sirius's shoulder one final squeeze, followed. Remus stayed behind with Sirius, now sitting against his bed, still holding his hand. A little while ago, Remus had tried to pull his hand away, but Sirius only gripped it tighter.

When the other two boys had settled in and their soft snores filled the room, Sirius finally spoke for the first time in a while. He glanced at Remus, tilted his head, and asked if he wanted to go for a smoke. Remus scoffed at the familiarity of it, but nodded. They quietly grabbed the cloak from James’s bedside table and made their way to the Astronomy Tower.

They sat in the same spot they had back in December, passing a cigarette back and forth in silence.

After a while, Remus broke the silence. “Have the nightmares been happening for a long time, or was tonight the first?”

Sirius looked down, his expression heavy. “Since the holidays,” he admitted quietly.

Remus nodded, watching him carefully. “And?” he prompted. “Are they about…” He let the question hang in the air.

Sirius hesitated, his voice low when he finally spoke. “It was…the worst pain I’ve ever felt. In those moments, when I was being…” He didn’t need to finish that. Remus knew what he was referring to. “All I could think about was—” He paused, his breath catching. “—death.”

Remus stayed silent, his brow furrowed.

“But,” Sirius continued, softer now, “then these memories started coming through. Not clear, just flashes… but enough.” He glanced at Remus, his voice almost breaking. “I remembered nights under the full moon. Playing with Moony. Flying on the Quidditch pitch with James. Stuff like that.”

He stopped, swallowing hard before finishing. “And I kept seeing your face.” He looked at Remus fully now. “Smiling at me.”

Remus’s throat tightened, but he managed to keep his expression steady. “You saw me? Just me?” he asked quietly.

Sirius nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. “You. Always you.” He exhaled sharply, as if saying it out loud lifted some weight off his chest. “It’s what kept pulling me back. Every time, when it felt like I’d fall apart completely…finally die… there you were. Smiling. Like some stupid, hopeful anchor.”

Remus let out a soft, shaky laugh, his lips quirking up despite the lump in his throat. “Stupid, huh?”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Stupid and perfect.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the cigarette burning low between Sirius’s fingers. Remus reached over, taking it from him, their hands brushing. He took a slow drag before exhaling into the cool night air.

Remus glanced at Sirius and didn’t look away. Sirius was staring up at the stars, his brow furrowed, an expression so raw and distant that it made Remus shudder.

He couldn’t stop thinking about what James had told him—Sirius is in love with you too. The words echoed in his mind, but doubt crept in, gnawing at the edges. Maybe if he were more secure, more confident, he could fully believe it.

He thought, just for a moment, about how things might have been different if James had told him before his birthday. Maybe then, he would have grabbed Sirius, kissed him, and let everything fall into place. But the thought of it—of Sirius pulling away, of seeing disgust flash across his face—terrified him.

What if it ruined everything? What if all the progress they’d made this year shattered in an instant, leaving him with nothing but the unbearable ache of losing Sirius for good?

But then, as he sat there, watching Sirius’s distant gaze and the weight in his shoulders, Remus realized something. Something had already snapped. Sirius was slipping away from him, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

His chest tightened, and the words burned at the back of his throat. He wanted to ask. He wanted to beg. 

But before Remus could say anything, Sirius glanced at him from the corner of his eye.

“You always look at me like that,” Sirius said suddenly, his voice quiet but pointed.

“Like what?” Remus replied, glancing at him, his brows knitting in confusion.

“Like you’re trying to figure me out,” Sirius muttered, his lips quirking into a half-smile, though his eyes remained distant.

“Maybe I am,” Remus said softly, his voice almost a whisper.

Sirius snorted, shaking his head. “Good luck. I’m a constellation, not a puzzle.”

Remus didn’t hesitate. “Then maybe I’ll trace your stars until I understand.”

The words hung in the air between them, and Remus wasn’t sure where they’d come from, only that they felt right—like the truest thing he could say in that moment.

Sirius fully turned to him, his expression unreadable at first. For a second, Remus thought he might laugh it off, but instead, Sirius’s eyes softened, the tension in his shoulders easing.

They looked at each other like that for a beat, the air between them charged and heavy. Remus felt exposed, like Sirius could see straight through him, past every wall he’d ever built.

And then, without warning, Sirius surged forward, his hand clutching the front of Remus’s shirt, and pulled him into a searing kiss.

It happened so fast that Remus’s body acted on instinct—he pushed Sirius away, his hands trembling even as they made contact. In an instant, shame flashed across Sirius’ face. It was raw and undeniable, and it hit Remus like a mirror reflecting his own fears.

But before he could think—before he could let the moment shatter—Remus reached out, grabbed Sirius’s collar, and kissed him back.

Sirius froze for a moment, caught off guard, but then he melted into the kiss, his hands tangling in the fabric of Remus’s shirt as though afraid to let go. Remus’s own hands found their way to Sirius’s shoulders, gripping him tightly, like Sirius might disappear if he didn’t hold on.

The kiss deepened, growing more urgent with every second. Sirius’s lips were warm and insistent, moving against Remus’s with a fervor that left him breathless. Remus responded in kind, his fingers sliding up to thread through Sirius’s hair, pulling him impossibly closer.

The quiet night around them faded away—the stars, the cold, the distant sound of the castle stirring—it all disappeared. All that remained was Sirius, his touch, his warmth, the taste of him lingering like smoke and something uniquely him.

Sirius broke away for a second, his forehead pressing against Remus’s, both of them panting. His gray eyes were wide, searching Remus’s face like he was trying to memorize every detail.

“Is this okay?” Sirius asked, his voice barely above a whisper, trembling with something that sounded like hope and fear all at once.

Remus didn’t answer with words. Instead, he pulled Sirius up, directing them away from the ledge. He roughly pulled Sirius back to him, their mouths colliding once more, and Sirius groaned softly against his lips. They stumbled backward slightly, Remus’s back colliding into the cold stone wall of the tower. Sirius’s hands moved, sliding up under the hem of Remus’s jumper, fingers splaying over warm skin, sending shivers up Remus’s spine.

Remus clung to him, his hands gripping Sirius’s jacket as if it were the only thing tethering him to reality. They kissed like they’d been waiting for this forever, like the world could fall apart and neither of them would care. And maybe that was true.

“Sirius,” Remus murmured against his lips, the sound barely audible, but Sirius heard it. He pulled back just enough to look at Remus, his lips swollen and his eyes impossibly soft.

“Yeah?” Sirius whispered, his thumb brushing along the edge of Remus’s jaw.

Remus didn’t reply. He just kissed him again, slow this time, pouring every unspoken feeling into it—every fear, every hope, every moment he’d spent wishing for this. And Sirius kissed him back like he understood, like he felt it too.

Sirius's hands trembled slightly as they roamed up Remus’s sides, memorizing the curve of his ribs and the dip of his waist. The warmth of his touch seeped into Remus’s skin, chasing away the chill of the tower’s night air. They moved in sync, as if they’d done this a hundred times in another life, mouths colliding, parting, finding each other again.

Remus broke the kiss first, gasping softly as Sirius pressed closer, their bodies flush against one another. Sirius leaned in, his lips brushing against Remus’s jaw, then the corner of his mouth, and finally trailing down to a sensitive spot just below his ear.

“Sirius,” Remus breathed, his voice low and shaky, his fingers twisting in the fabric of Sirius’s shirt.

Sirius pulled back just enough to look at him, his gray eyes searching, wild, and filled with something that made Remus’s heart ache. “Say it again,” Sirius whispered, his voice hoarse and vulnerable.

“Your name?” Remus asked softly, his chest rising and falling against Sirius’s.

Sirius nodded, leaning his forehead against Remus’s, his lips brushing faintly over his cheek. “Yeah. I want to hear it again.”

“Sirius,” Remus said, firmer this time, his voice steady as he met Sirius’s gaze.

Sirius exhaled shakily, his hands sliding down to Remus’s waist, holding him there like he was something precious. “God, I think I’ve wanted this forever,” he admitted, his voice cracking slightly.

Remus let out a soft, breathless laugh, his hands settling on Sirius’s shoulders. “You’re not the only one,” he confessed, his cheeks warming despite the intimacy of the moment.

Sirius grinned then, wide and boyish, the kind of smile that made Remus’s chest feel too tight. “We’re idiots, aren’t we?”

“Completely,” Remus agreed, a small smile tugging at his lips before he pulled Sirius into another kiss, slow and deliberate, savoring the feel of him.

This time, the urgency faded into something softer. Sirius’s hands stayed on Remus’s waist, grounding them, while Remus let his fingers tangle in Sirius’s hair, brushing the strands away from his face. Their kisses slowed, but neither moved to pull away, content to stay close, breathing each other in.

—----------------------------

The heavy drapes of Remus's four-poster bed hung closed, blocking out the glow of the setting sun that filtered through the dormitory windows. Sirius lay sprawled beside him, one arm tucked behind his head, the other absentmindedly twisting a strand of Remus's sandy hair between his fingers.

“Honestly,” Sirius drawled, “what’s the point of Transfiguration theory when we’ve already done the practical? Who cares why a goblet turns into a hedgehog, as long as it works?”

Remus sighed, resting his head against Sirius’s shoulder. “The point, Sirius, is to pass your exams. Which, by the way, you won’t, if you don’t stop talking and finish reading that section.”

Sirius huffed, his fingers still playing with Remus’s hair. “McGonagall’s already got it out for me. She gave me detention just for existing, I swear. All I did was—”

“You hexed her chair to meow every time she sat down,” Remus interrupted, deadpan.

Sirius grinned, unapologetic. “It was a masterpiece, Moony. A harmless bit of fun.”

Remus groaned, tilting his head back to look at Sirius with a mixture of fondness and exasperation. “You’re impossible.”

“You like it,” Sirius said, his voice dropping into that teasing, sing-song tone that made Remus’s stomach flip. He smirked down at Remus, his grey eyes glittering with mischief.

And that was it. Remus didn’t think—he didn’t let himself think. He pushed himself up on one elbow and kissed Sirius, effectively shutting him up.

For a moment, Sirius froze, caught off guard. But then he was kissing Remus back, his hand sliding into Remus’s hair in earnest, the Transfiguration notes forgotten and crumpled beneath them.

It was warm and consuming, the kind of kiss that made Remus’s head spin and his heart race. They’d been doing this for months now, and he still couldn’t believe it was happening—Sirius Black, impossibly gorgeous, insufferably confident Sirius Black, kissing him. It felt surreal, like something out of a dream he was afraid to wake from.

Sirius pulled him closer, and Remus could feel his grin against his lips, that smug, playful grin that made him both want to hit Sirius and never stop kissing him.

Sirius’s hands slid down Remus’s chest, fingertips pressing into him like they were trying to memorize every inch. Remus’s breath hitched as he tangled his fingers in Sirius’s hair, gripping and tugging. Sirius let out a low, needy moan that sent a rush of heat through Remus’s body, leaving him feeling both giddy and drunk. The sound alone was intoxicating, like a secret only he was allowed to hear.

Sirius’s lips moved against his with the same reckless abandon he seemed to approach everything in life with, but there was a softness too—a reverence that made Remus’s chest ache. When Sirius’s hand slipped under his shirt, it burned against his skin, warm and steady. His fingers ghosted over the scar on Remus’s hip, tracing the jagged lines with a careful, reverent touch.

Remus hissed at the sensation—not from pain, but from the sheer intimacy of it. He pulled back for just a second, staring up at Sirius. His grey eyes were dark, half-lidded, his cheeks flushed. Sirius looked up at him like he was something precious, something worth losing everything for, and Remus couldn’t stand it.

Before he could overthink it, his hand moved to the front of Sirius’s neck, his fingers curling just tightly enough to make Sirius’s eyes widen in surprise. The pressure wasn’t rough, wasn’t cruel—it was just enough to ground them both. He kissed him again. 

Sirius’s lips parted, and he broke their kiss to murmur, his voice low and hoarse, “You’ll be the death of me, Lupin.”

Remus didn’t respond, didn’t trust himself to say anything without giving too much away. Instead, he smirked faintly, his gaze locked on Sirius’s flushed face. Then, with a swift and confident motion, he flipped them, pinning Sirius beneath him.

Sirius let out a breathless laugh, his grin wild and crooked. He looked up at Remus, his hair splayed messily across the pillow, like he’d never been happier to be at someone’s mercy.

Remus leaned down, pressing their bodies flush together, angling his hips to align with Sirius’s. The contact sent a shiver through him, and he felt Sirius’s hands fly to his waist, holding him tightly, like he was afraid Remus might disappear if he let go.

“Lupin,” Sirius whispered, his voice breaking slightly, as though the weight of Remus against him was too much to bear.

Remus leaned down, brushing his lips against Sirius’s jaw, his breath hot against his skin. “You talk too much,” he muttered, before capturing Sirius’s lips again in a kiss that was anything but gentle.

Sirius groaned into it, his hands sliding up Remus’s back again, pulling him closer, if that was even possible. The world outside the bed ceased to exist—there was no Hogwarts, no full moons, no war brewing in the distance. There was only this: the warmth of Sirius beneath him, the way his body fit perfectly against Remus’s, like they were made for this moment.

Then the dormitory door burst open.

“Oi, Moony, Pads!” James’s voice rang out, loud and full of energy as usual. “You’ll never believe—”

He stopped mid-sentence, his jaw dropping as he took in the scene on the bed. Behind him, Peter peered into the room, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

James blinked, and then, as if on instinct, grabbed the nearest pillow and launched it at them.

“For Merlin’s sake, not in the dorm!” he exclaimed, shielding his eyes with one hand while the other pointed accusingly at them. “There are rules! Or, at least, there should be!”

The pillow hit Remus square in the face, and Sirius burst out laughing, the sound loud and infectious. Remus sat up, his face red but his laughter bubbling out despite himself.

“Oh, come off it, James,” Sirius managed between fits of laughter. “You’re just jealous you don’t have anyone to snog.”

James scowled, his cheeks turning pink. “I’ll have you know, I saw Lily in the stands at practice today, and she smiled at me. Smiled!”

“Right before she rolled her eyes,” Peter muttered under his breath, earning a glare from James.

Sirius and Remus exchanged a look, their laughter renewing at James’s indignant expression. They fell back onto the bed, howling with laughter, and James groaned, throwing another pillow at them for good measure.

“Just—keep it out of sight, will you?” James muttered, trying to suppress his own grin as he deposited his Quidditch gear and stomped out of the room, Peter trailing behind him.

When the door closed, Sirius turned to Remus, his cheeks flushed, his eyes still bright with amusement.

“Well,” Sirius said, his voice low and playful. “That went well, don’t you think?”

Remus rolled his eyes, his smile softening as he leaned back against Sirius. “You’re insufferable,” he said, though there was no heat in his words.

“And yet, here you are,” Sirius teased, pulling him closer.

Remus could only think one thing.

For many years, I wait

Yes, it’s true

I live for you