Be safe
A few bedrooms in the manor have their own bathroom attached and one of them belongs to Remus. He takes a hot shower and confidently steps back into the room in nothing but a towel, ready to pick up clothes for the day. It’s still early in the morning, the house is calm and anyway, everybody knows not to enter his room without knocking. Well, almost everybody.
There’s a guy in his bed – messy, wavy hair, a few tattoos, a stolen t-shirt…
“You’ve crawled into my bed again,” Remus observes casually, showing no signs of surprise, because this isn’t the first time this happened.
To Black’s ears, Lupin sounds mostly resigned, which isn’t a preferred reaction. But the werewolf also isn’t taking his focus off Sirius so far and there’s a hidden fascination in his eyes, which is good enough. Truth be told, when it comes to this particular man, Sirius would get down on his knees for far less.
“Mine was too cold,” he bullshits and stretches lazily, half-covered with the duvet which still holds the warmth and smell of Remus. His two favourite things.
Remus huffs. “Warming charms exist,” he points out, slightly amused, but it’s overshadowed by something else: a certain possessiveness that can turn into a problem, if not watched carefully. He slowly moves closer. Like a stalking wolf.
Hot excitement spills all over Sirius’ stomach from the slight rasp in Lupin’s voice. “You exist, too,” he argues.
“I’ve already gotten up.” Remus stops at the edge of the bed and just… waits there.
Sirius is generally known for being a menace – always turning everything into a competition and waiting for the other person to show weakness first. This here might be an exception, though. He’s learned the hard way (and oh, what a fun lesson it was) that Remus is much more patient and has greater self control, which means the best way to make him do something is to be nice. So instead of making a witty comment, Sirius sits up on the mattress and then shifts forward, to the edge of the bed. He tilts his head back slightly to look up at the man and smiles with fake innocence. “Hi,” he says, aiming for sweet but landing on smug.
It’s almost visible, the way Remus’ objections melt. He reaches out to tuck Sirius’ unruly hair behind his ear. “What am I going to do with you?” he sighs quietly, as if this is somehow one big inconvenience for him, but his eyes are full of warmth.
In response, Sirius grabs his wrist and tugs and Remus goes amusingly easily, for a man of his strength. He’s everywhere, suddenly, holding Black’s face and kissing him, and pinning him down, and – yeah. For this, Sirius can agree to be well-behaved from time to time.
The bed goes from warm to burning fast, so it’s nobody's fault, really, that they lose the clothes. There’s a familiar routine to this by now – the way Remus rearranges Black easily to his own liking in a pretty bossy way, but whispers the sweetest things into his ear while he’s at it. He’s a heavenly mixture of demanding yet polite and something about it makes Sirius desperate for his approval. He wants him close, closer, inside. He wants whatever Remus wants, he wants… He just WANTS, so fucking bad it hurts sometimes. (That’s Sirius’ thing, though not anything important right now – he has an unfortunate talent to attract pain in everything.)
“Harder,” he demands at some point with an almost crazy smile, inviting the demons inside, even though by now he knows that won’t work.
“No,” Lupin says sternly and holds him closer instead.
It's always the same response and by now Sirius makes the request only to hear that authoritative tone again, because it still makes him shiver every time. See, Remus is the only guy Sirius has even been with that refuses to fuck him. He makes love to him instead – slow, deep and hot – and it makes Sirius melt. He's always left breathless and sometimes tears start rolling down his cheek midway through it, when he gets overwhelmed with the pleasure, the intensity and way Remus looks at him.
Lupin always kisses the tears away and whispers the loveliest things to Sirius, and makes him feel so fucking good, life should end right there and then, because what’s the fucking point in doing anything else after this kind of sex, really? And Sirius makes Lupin feel good, too, to say thank you for it all, and he takes immense pride in being able to bring this upstanding individual dangerously close to madness. Or close to swearing, at least.
“Hell, darling” Remus sighs quietly this time, rolling onto his back once they are done: covered in sweat and breathless, but satisfied. “I’ll be late to a meeting.”
Sirius needs another moment to get his shaking legs under control. Then he says, staring at the ceiling, “I have a job in Romania. I’ll be gone for a while.”
Remus shuts his eyes, squeezes his jaw and swallows the anger. He was expecting it, after all. There's a lot of touching between them and stolen kisses in the corridors when nobody is around (even though everybody knows), but sex happens almost only like this – Sirius comes and takes what he wants, then leaves for days or weeks. It's a clear message, as far as Remus is concerned. Black puts distance between them to make sure this stays casual and undefined. Not that important. Just harmless fun.
He should put an end to it, have mercy on his own heart. But having Sirius is addictive, even if for just a moment, so he lets it happen again and again.
“For how long this time?” Remus asks finally, his voice carefully blank and slowly gets up to get dressed.
Sirius doesn’t move. “A week. Two, maybe. I never really know.”
Remus closes his eyes for a moment again and lets the bitterness go. He knows Black has his own issues – demons from the past, a darkness that comes knocking from time to time – so he’s determined to give him kindness, above anything else. “Okay,” he says calmly and means it, because so far, Sirius has always come back, eventually. What more can he ask for, really?
(Still, it’s a shit move – to have sex almost only as a form of goodbye. Maybe Remus will stay bitter for another hour or so. Just to have some standards.)
* * *
The thing with curses is, somebody has to cast them and that person usually isn’t exactly happy to hear it’s being removed. Sirius should probably pay more attention to that, seeing as he’s currently suspended in the air, upside down, with various bruises and cuts that only seem to be growing.
It’s not the worst pain he’s ever been in, but his past is dark and his threshold for pain is unnecessarily high. Taking all this under the consideration, the current situation is pretty fucking awful.
“Day two and you’re still holding up, huh?” a wizard in grey robes muses, amused. “Not for long, I’m sure.”
Unfortunately, he might be right. It’s odd to think this is how Sirius’ life will end – he always thought it would be more dramatic. Or less useless, at least. But the curse this guy is obsessed with has already been broken and there’s no reversing that. Once he realizes it, there’s no reason for him to keep Black alive.
Sirius thinks about Remus. For no particular reason.
Skin on his arm opens in another place, forming a burning wound and this time he’s unable to hold in the scream. It makes the wizard laugh, but the sound abruptly ends, forcing Black to open his eyes again.
“Fucking hell,” James hisses, taking Sirius’ state in. “You hang in there, mate, yeah?!”
James Potter and Peter Pettigrew are here. Either that or Sirius is hallucinating from exhaustion and pain. He can’t be, though, because moments after James gets him down using a spell and gently lies him on the cold floor. It’s rare to see Potter’s face so serious. Black can barely recognise him.
“What are you…” he croaks, trying to form a question, but they don’t let him finish.
“Good thing you summoned me first,” James says to Peter, who finally manages to find Sirius’ wand on the unconscious wizard’s body and moves closer to them.
“Is he going to be fine?”
“Yes,” James decides stubbornly. “Let’s take him home first...”
“No!” Peter opposes immediately, horrified. “No, Prongs! It was my turn to follow Sirius… If Remus sees him like this, he’ll kill me!”
“That’s not true,” James argues, but Peter has a point. Peter is already the weakest wolf in the pack. Remus would never kill him – or intentionally hurt him – but there’s no telling what shape his repressed wrath is going to take during a full moon. So far Lupin hasn’t been entirely rational when Sirius is concerned.
James is just a wizard and he’s not even trying to pretend he fully understands the werewolf dynamic. Or their law.
Sirius coughs out some blood. “Sorry,” he says, sounding terribly, “Did you just say Remus makes you follow me around..?!”
Colour drains from Peter’s face. “Shit,” he whispers, on the edge of panic. “Shit, shit, SHIT!”
James sighs. “Not gonna lie, Peter, at this point you're just digging your own grave.”
Sirius is too hurt and exhausted to press for more, but he stores that piece of information for later. Peter argues with James for only a moment longer, until Potter decides to heal some of the wounds before apparating straight to the hospital. It’s probably safer that way, anyway.
“What about the asshole?” Sirius asks once he’s standing up, leaning on James. The pain is almost fully gone and his tone is back to normal.
They all stare at the still unconscious wizard.
“I’ll let the other Aurors know, they’ll come get him before he wakes up. We don’t even have to mix you into it, I recognize his face from the wanted list.”
“I don’t think fucking Romania is in your jurisdiction,” Sirius observes bitterly.
James shrugs. “We’ll work it out.”
James is the most chill Auror Sirius has ever met and they clearly share the tendency to bend the rules to achieve a desired outcome. Black has already known that, but this still might be the first time he is actually truly happy to have a friend working for the Ministry.
* * *
In the end James takes Sirius to St Mungo’s and uses his Auror privilege to get him a no-question-asked checkup and fast healing procedures. Black is able to return to the Wolf Manor later that evening, walking on his own, with partly healed cuts and bruises hidden under the clothes. It’s almost like none of it has ever happened. Almost.
Remus is sitting cross-legged in front of the fireplace in his study when Sirius walks in. He looks up, surprised to see Black is back in the manor, then raises his finger slightly, signaling Sirius needs to wait for his fire-call to end.
Sirius has other plans. “You have me followed?” he accuses, crossing his arms over his chest.
Remus' gaze changes from distracted to focused in seconds. He looks between Sirius and the fireplace – back and forth, back and forth, making a quick decision. “Sorry,” he says finally to whoever is on the other side of the flames. “We’ll have to discuss this another time. I’ll call later.”
The stranger’s face gets swallowed by the flames and just like that, it’s only the two of them in the room.
“What happened?” Remus asks in an uncharacteristically blank tone, getting up from the floor.
“How is that an acceptable answer to what I’ve just said?!”
Once Remus is up, Sirius can’t look down at him anymore. The roles get reversed. Remus’ focused, piercing gaze is on him, scanning for any clues or worrying details, because the bastard is overprotective like that. No matter how angry or frustrated Sirius gets, that intense gaze always makes him pause for a second. He feels caught, every time – pinned down by Lupin’s unspoken demand for Sirius to be safe and okay.
“If you know, something must have happened,” Remus points out, stopping right in front of him. “Something that made them step in.”
“Maybe I’m just good enough to notice,” SIrius argues, annoyed.
Remus smiles in a way that makes many people shiver. “No. I’ve trained my wolves too well for that.” He reaches out and gently raises Sirius’ chin, then turns his face a tad to the left, a tad to the right, studying the skin. There’s a small, almost healed cut on his cheek. “What happened?” he asks again and it sounds darker this time.
“Fuck off!” Sirius pushes his hands away. “Don’t change the bloody subject! How the hell are you this casual about it? You have me followed, Moony! What the actuall fuck!? For how long?? From the beginning…!?”
“I considered it necessary.” Remus announces slowly, staying calm.
That calm is exactly what’s pissing Sirius off right now. “You’re a prick.” He announces harshly. “I know I’m not perfect, okay? I can see you silently judging me – my choices, my lifestyle, my fucking language,” he throws in the swearword again, out of spite, “But you have no right to just… have your friends stalk me every time I leave for a job, just to… what, actually? You’re so desperate to check if I’m behaving well? And what if I’m not? How is that ANY OF YOUR BUSINESS? How bloody dare you?! Merlin, this is so fucked up!”
Remus just stares in silence for a long moment, trying to comprehend Sirius’ train of logic. He’s a complicated creature, this one and it’s sometimes difficult to decipher how one should approach it. “Okay,” is what he eventually says, deciding retreat might be best.
(It’s a very wrong decision.)
“What, that's it?” Sirius asks in disbelief, putting his hands on his hips and looking up defiantly, with fire in his eyes. “Are you fucking for real right now?!”
Remus keeps most of the emotion to himself, unsure how to handle them yet, which unfortunately leaves him looking and sounding mostly unbothered. “I don't have anything to say to that,” he explains patiently.
Sirius is one step away from hitting him in that stupidly beautiful face. “You’re a fucking prick,” he hisses. “And a coward.”
Somehow, that finally gets a reaction out of Remus. “And you're a child that never grew up,” he shots back, annoyed. “Stop putting your issues on me. It's getting old.”
* * *
They stop speaking to each other and it’s impossible not to notice. After a week, everybody else in the manor is an unfortunate victim of the awkward, cold atmosphere created by the two idiots and eventually, James Potter is nominated as a person who has to fix it. When you think about it, it probably should have been Lily, because she has an insanely high emotional intelligence. James? Well, James gets Remus and himself drunk in a pub.
“Like… I don’t care,” Remus declares, a few pints in. “He can hate me all he wants, I’m not sorry for trying to keep him safe!”
“I don’t think he knows that was the reason,” James points out.
“Yeah, well, how is that my fault…? He’s just… He’s always gone, Prongs! He goes to all these parties, he… he works with dangerous, dark magic, he has no schedule… sleeps until noon and… and he’s just… unstoppable. Careless. Carefree.” Remus stops to drink some more.
“I mean…” James starts, but his friend isn’t really listening.
“A mess!” Remus complains. “He’s just this beautiful mess and I will never be able to catch up, I know, but all I want is for him to be safe! And all he wants is to have some fun…” He leans down and rests his forehead on the beer mug out of desperation. “I’d cut my own heart out for him, and he just… gets into my bed before leaving for days. Like it’s a… Like it’s a hotel. He thinks my heart is a hotel, Prongs! Oh, this is just bloody pathetic…”
“Oh!” James is not exactly sober either, but he finally remembers what this conversation was supposed to be about. “Listen, I have a good one!” He grins and leans closer to the discouraged Remus. “Ya know what he said about that?”
“Who?”
“Black!”
“Said about what…?”
“What?”
“What…?”
James waves the confusion away. “Just listen to me, yeah?” He takes a sip and his grin grows. “I asked him about it, yeah? The sex stuff–”
“What?!”
“No,” James grabs Remus’ shoulder. “No, like, I knew it breaks your heart, that’s why I asked him what’s up with that.”
“WHY?! Oh Merlin…”
“Don’t worry about that part. We all voted on it…”
“I’m so confused,” Remus announces and decides to drink more.
“Anyway,” James is determined to get to the point before he forgets what the point is. It happened before. “Black said he’s, like, afraid you might forget about him and he’s good at sex…”
“How do you know…?” Remus asks immediately, narrowing his eyes at Potter.
“You told me, you idiot. Focus. He said it’s like… a trick. To make you miss him more. Or not forget too fast. Like, before he gets back, yeah? You get it? Because I think I get it. I mean, I think he cares, is what I’m trying to say. It only seems like he doesn’t.”
“I’m making love to him and he thinks it’s a trick?!” Remus groans and lets his forehead hit the table.
James stares at his friend, confused. “I feel like there was a miscommunication.” He states finally.
“My life is a miscommunication,” Remus mumbles, still in despair.
James rubs his face, exhausted. None of this is going according to plan. “Lily is going to kill me.”
“Lily loves you,” Remus comments bitterly. “At least you will… die loved.”
James' gaze turns dreamy. “You think she loves me? Like, for real, for real? Because I think I want to marry her, ya know?”
“I need another drink,” Remus mumbles into the tabletop.
* * *
The hangover the next day is a bitch, but as the memories of their conversation slowly come back, Remus is regretting the evening less and less, because James did say some interesting things about Sirius. Well, maybe more concerning than interesting, to be fair, but they definitely make Remus more optimistic. He needs another two days to pull himself together, but eventually, he decides to speak to Sirius Black.
The silence was getting exhausting, anyway, and it’s frustrating to see Black everyday in the corner of the eye, as he steals somebody else’s breakfast or fights for a more comfortable place on the couch instead of having him close.
It’s actually quite difficult to locate Sirius at first – a clear sign he’s avoiding Remus. Lupin manages to corner him in the late evening, once the menace retreats to his own room.
He knocks politely, even though the door is already ajar.
“Can I come in?”
The shuffling on the other side stops for a moment, then there’s a sound of some things being moved around. “Fine,” Sirius calls finally, sounding defensive. He observes Remus carefully, as the man steps inside, and his gaze eventually lands on the object in the werewolf’s hand. “What’s that?” he asks with a note of accusation.
“A cactus,” Remus says patiently, even though it’s very obvious. “I wanted to get you flowers but Lilly said you’re not very good with them.”
Sirius is standing in the middle of the bedroom, his hands crossed over his chest, and looks extremely unimpressed. “So you bought me a cactus instead…?”
Remus looks down at the plant he’s holding. “It’s a nice cactus,” he argues. “Why are you being offended by it?”
“Oh, it’s not the cactus I’m offended by, mate.”
The hostility is understandable. The comment can be even considered fair, sure. It does, however, take a lot of Remus’ self control not to get triggered by the word “mate”, because he sure as hell isn’t that to Sirius. He clears his throat and takes another step. “I'd like to apologize,” he announces.
Sirius nods. “Go ahead.”
Remus sighs. “I shouldn't make the wolves follow you when you leave for work.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
Remus swallows the second sigh and moves to the desk, to put the cactus there. “I wasn’t trying to control you,” he explains slowly, careful to choose the right words. “I simply wanted to make sure you stay safe.” He looks back at Sirius – right into his eyes. “I just… don't know how to handle you, sometimes.”
“Maybe I'm not yours to handle,” Black suggests, still defensive.
Remus keeps looking at him. “I deserved that, I suppose. What do you want from me, then?”
The question catches Sirius off guard. He furrows his brows, then looks away for a moment, fidgeting with the edge of the sleeve of Remus’ sweater. He clearly forgot to stop wearing it during the silent treatment.
“You mean, like…” Sirius stops and makes a weird face. “What do you mean?”
“In case that wasn’t obvious, I’m not entirely rational when it comes to you,” Remus admits bravely. “I want you, all right? And I want you safe. But I don't want to cross any boundaries. So tell me what you want this to look like and I'll try to adjust.”
Here Remus goes again, with that terrifying honesty. Sirius never had a chance to learn how to deal with something like this. He knows how to scheme, bullshit and deceive, but what the fuck is he suppose to do with the truth? Especially when it sounds like this…
“What do you want this to look like?” he asks eventually, echoing Remus’ question, because asking for more information is always a good way to buy some time.
Warmth spills into Remus’ eyes. It happens sometimes – he keeps looking at Sirius and suddenly something shifts and his face gets all… open and kind. Kissable.
“I'd like to have you in my bed even when the only thing you want to do is sleep.” Remus announces, leaning against the desk casually. He even slides his hands into the pocket of his pants, as if he’s having a smalltalk, not sharing the most embarrassing things. “I'd like to know where you're going, who you're with and when you're coming back. I'd like you to share how you feel. I'd like to be able to tell you how I feel. I’d like to see you in my clothes even more often. Should I keep going?”
“There's more…?” Sirius manages to ask, even though his throat suddenly feels tight.
Remus shrugs. “Just tell me what you need, please.”
How does he make this sound so easy?
“I don't know,” Sirius says after a moment.
“Okay.” Now Remus sounds resigned.
“No, like…” Sirius searches for the right words urgently, before he somehow fucks this up. He kind of wants that cactus, okay? And the rest of the stuff mentioned. “I'm okay with you deciding what I need, I think,” he says quietly. “You're clearly better at it,” he adds in a more joking tone to somehow escape the heavy atmosphere, because it makes him uncomfortable.
Something flashes in Remus’ eyes – heavy and possessive, a warning and a promise – but it’s gone right away, making room for a soft smile. “That’s quite ridiculous,” he says fondly.
Sirius fixes the wand in his hair. “In a hot way, or…?”
“Come here,” Remus requests, extending his hand. Only once Black is standing right in front of him, he continues. “I need you to be serious about this,” he announces, dragging his knuckles gently against Sirius’ cheek. “I really am sorry for violating your privacy.”
“It did kind of save my life,” Black agrees reluctantly. He’s getting slightly distracted by the hand Remus puts on his waist.
“Hey,” Lupin makes him look up by holding his chin gently. “Don’t dismiss it now. We need to figure out how to avoid another argument like this.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Don't.”
Sirius grins. “You don't like that or you like it too much?”
“Baby, focus. Please.”
“Oh fuck me,” Sirius mutters dramatically. “Fine. We’ll get James and work together on some way to signal an emergency to each other long distance, and you’ll call your wolves off. There. Problem solved.”
It’s suddenly very unclear why they weren’t talking for a week, isn’t it?
Remus sighs and kisses the menace, because that might satisfy him for a moment and shift the focus back to the conversation. The idea fails, though, because he gets distracted himself and they get sidetracked for a while. Remus ends up sitting on the edge of the bed, with Sirius straddling him and they continue kissing like this until they become breathless. That forces them to pause and Remus takes the chance to continue the conversation again.
“James talked to me,” he whispers against Sirius’ neck, while his hands sneak under Black’s (well, his own, technically) sweater.
“Fascinating,” Sirius shots back sarcastically, clearly uninterested in the topic.
“About the sex,” Remus prompts gently.
“I hope you weren't listening too intently, because he's straight. You understand that, right, sweetheart?”
Remus squeezes Sirius’ hip slightly harder in punishment for saying random bullshit to avoid a serious conversation. Instead of rolling his eyes or trying to distract him again, the man in his lap actually hisses in pain, then tries to immediately hide it. Remus takes his hand off, as if burnt.
“Sorry!” he says immediately, clearly bothered. “I’m sorry. What did I–”
Sirius presses his palm to Lupin’s mouth to shut him up. “Not your fault, calm down,” he demands. “Not everything got healed yet, is all.”
It takes a second for Remus to understand what he means and once he does, the darkness that appears in his eyes is a scary thing to witness. Unless you’re the man he calls ‘baby’ and ‘love’, that is. “Why is it not healed yet?” Lupin asks finally, after a charged pause.
Sirius winces. “Well… it is possible that I keep forgetting to use the ointment the healer gave me.”
“I thought there were just minor bruises…?”
“Something like that, sure,” Sirius mutters. He begged James not to share the full extent of his injuries with Remus, promised to do house chores for him in exchange, even, and now it’s his own fault the truth is getting exposed. That’s kind of embarrassing.
“What exactly…” Remus begins, on the edge of anger, but he catches himself at the last second. It doesn’t matter now, not really. It’s definitely not worth another argument. He sighs instead of finishing that sentence. “Give me the ointment, please.”
Sirius rolls his eyes, but reluctantly climbs off of him and retrieves the jar from the drawer.
“Knock yourself out,” he comments darkly, handing it to Remus.
Lupin takes it and smiles politely at him. “Strip.”
It’s that kind of gentle directness that always leaves Sirius a little bit stunned and with no useful excuses. He blinks a few times dumbly, then obediently takes off the sweater, hoping the warmth in his cheeks isn’t too noticeable.
“Sit on the bed,” Remus instructs and opens the jar.
He’s unnecessarily gentle and slow when he applies the ointment to Sirius’ bruises and cuts. The tension is back for a moment and it’s clear the silence is a wall that allows Remus to separate himself from the anger at the person responsible. It takes a while for his shoulders to relax – it happens only once he moves on to massaging the substance into the marks on Sirius’ back. His hands are warm, movements careful but with no trace of hesitance. Sirius should shiver from the cold of the room, but instead he feels too hot from all the attention. At the same time, he gets almost sleepy – his brain mistakenly associates the feeling of being safe with the permission to rest.
“Can we go back to what James has told me?” Remus speaks eventually in a quiet voice.
“What was it?” Black asks, fighting a yawn. It wouldn’t hurt Potter to shut up from time to time, honestly.
“Do you really sleep with me just before you leave for one of the work trips only to…” He doesn't finish his sentence. Again. “As if I would… what, get bored of you without it? Do you really think so low of me…?”
The hurt in Remus' voice is concealed, but not well enough, so Sirius manages to catch it and it squeezes his heart painfully.
“Fuck,” he mutters to himself, feeling like a piece of shit out of sudden. “No, Remus, this really isn’t about you!” he rushes to explain, but doesn’t turn to face the werewolf, because this is already embarrassing enough. “I just… I wanted you to, like… remember. Me. I guess.”
Sirius has always been restless. He moves around a lot, lacks structure, misses meals, doesn’t have a permanent place of residence, keeps losing the days or even weeks, if the party is good enough… It sounds exciting and fun, at first – he’s a breath of fresh air and an adrenaline shot all rolled into one, wherever he appears. But it gets old, at some point. Always. It’s hard to rely on him, people say, and eventually, they move on. It’s not their fault. He’s difficult, he knows. It might be the one true thing among all the other bullshit his family said to him.
The thing is, he’s trying. He wants to be good this time, because disappointing Remus feels horrible. It’s just impossible to change overnight, okay? So he thought that maybe, in the meantime, before he… gets his shit together and starts eating oatmeal every morning, or whatever, he can make sure Remus remains interested.
Sirius’ experience suggests people lose interest in him sooner than they lose interest in sex with him, so it seemed like a good way to go about it. Especially since he also actually wants to keep sleeping with Lupin, because it’s fun-fucking-tastic use of his time. Truly.
Remus is quiet for a moment. Then he shuffles around until he’s no longer behind Sirius, who’s kneeling on the bed, but in front of him.
“I thought I was being obvious,” Lupin says apologetically.
His tone confuses Sirius more than the words themselves. “About what…?”
“This isn’t a game for me, Black. I enjoy the chase, sure, and you’re too pretty for your own good, yes, but that’s not what this is about,” Remus explains and he sounds slightly frustrated with Sirius that he’d ever even think that. “You’re smart and bold, and funny, and kind, even though you always try to hide that last one. I personally believe it’s slightly impossible to get bored with that.”
They stare at each for a while, because sometimes words seem tragically useless.
“You’re very dramatic, you know?” Sirius declares finally, once he decides he can’t take any more of the seriousness and honesty, and, you know, raw feelings. He barely manages to contain the smile, though.
Remus sighs heavily, silently accepting the fact that this is what he’ll have to deal with for… a very long time, hopefully.
“I’m beginning to suspect you enjoy seeing me suffer,” he comments, leaning to the right to put the ointment on the nightstand next to the bed.
Sirius does openly grin this time. “Only a little bit,” he admits and grabs Remus’ sweater to pull him back in for the kiss.
Remus goes easily, then pins Sirius down on the mattress, but soon, he rolls them and allows the menace to land on top. He looks good up there, but it doesn’t mean much, because he always does, anyway.
“Hey,” he says, watching Sirius smiling triumphantly. “Promise me something?”
“What kind of sappy shit is it going to be now, Moony?”
Remus will punish him for that one later. For now he ignores the audacity and runs his hands up and down Sirius’ thighs. “Try to reduce the amount of danger you get yourself into, all right? I’m kind of invested here.”
* * *
The next day, Sirius walks into the dining room last and everybody else is already sitting at the impressively long table, eating.
“Oi, Lily!” he calls loudly, making sure to attract attention. “James wants to marry you, but he’s scared to say it!”
Lily simply nods, unsurprised. “It figures,” she states confidently.
“WHAT THE FUCK, BLACK!” Potter explodes next to her.
Sirius smiles wickedly. “That’s what you get for spilling my bedroom secrets, bitch!”
At the other end, Remus chuckles quietly, ignoring James who’s now sending daggers his way, for a change.
On his right, Marlene whispers to Dorcas, “you owe me ten Galleons.”
Then Sirius smirks at Remus in a very meaningful way, making it obvious to everyone that they aren’t arguing anymore.
“You owe me twenty back,” Dorcas observes, elbowing Marlene.
It's not sunshine and rainbows that led all these people to live here, but all things considered, they are doing all right.