Remus stands in the doorway of the living room, a drink in his hand, eyes scanning the room, people drinking, dancing, talking. In the middle of the room is where Remus finds her, Remus’ eyes automatically stop, unable to look anywhere else now. Sirius is dancing, Sirius is shining, Sirius is living, without him, with another man. And Remus knows it has no right to but his heart sinks, fields with jealousy, envy, anger, disappointment…
Love.
He can’t help it, no matter the situation, no matter the moment, no matter how much hurt he feels, he feels love. For Sirius. Always. Stupidly. Desperately.
The man’s hands are everywhere, the lips brushing Sirius’ ear. Sirius is smiling, eyes closed, he knows the other man wants them. They always know, she probably knows about Remus too, knew for a long time but never mentioned it, because Sirius wasn’t cruel. Remus wishes they were, so that he had a reason to stop loving them.
But even then, Remus thinks, he would welcome their cruelty. He would welcome anything Sirius was willing to give him.
He would let himself be blinded, torn apart, shredded to pieces. He would let himself drown if it meant he’d drown in her, her scent, her hair, her mouth. He’d welcome death with open hands if it was by her touch.
He yearns, he lives for their eyes on him, look at me, look at me, keep looking at me, me, please.
Sirius kisses the other man.
Remus can’t stop staring, eyes stinging, mind blank, fingers twitching, heart breaking. So, so in love it tore him apart.
He feels someone on his right, he forces his eyes away from Sirius to find Peter looking at him with pity. He hates it. But he welcomes it all the same, because it’s Peter. Peter and his empathy, always eager to be the one to offer a shoulder to cry on. For a long time, Remus knew, that was how he made himself feel worthy of the love of their friends. Living for other people was Peter’s way to make himself essential. Whatever that meant. Thankfully, in the last few years Peter had learned that he didn’t have to offer comfort to be needed, to be wanted. Remus was just happy to have Peter.
“I’m sorry, Rem.” He says, ridiculously.
Remus lets out a quiet hum before responding, “Nothing to be sorry for, I’m the fool here.” Voice too weak for his liking.
“You’re not. He does want you, you know.” The blond responds, looking at him earnestly, putting a hand on Remus’ shoulder.
“Oh, it sure looks that way, Pete.” He replies, sarcasm and bitterness pouring out of his mouth, refusing to look back at Sirius, suddenly finding his drink fascinating.
Peter sighs, he has glitter all over his cheeks, Remus stares and almost gets lost in the shine but Peter starts speaking again,“Come on, that’s not fair and you know it. You know that means nothing, Sirius just likes to have fun, she’s not gonna care tomorrow. Hell, she’s not gonna care in 30 minutes. And neither should she. That guy looks like an idiot.”
“Well that’s comforting, thanks Peter.” He scoffs.
“You know what I mean, you fuck.” He sends him a look, pushing him lightly.
“You look pretty, Pete.” Remus says, mostly because he means it but also because he wants this conversation to end.
Peter looks at him, frowning at first, then he rolls his eyes at him, lips forming into a smile, the glitter shines brighter against the pink quickly spreading on his cheeks, “I always look pretty, Rem.”
Remus nods, a grin on his face.
His mind, always helpful, goes back to Sirius. And Peter’s words.
He did know, he knows Sirius likes flings. He didn’t like the idea of someone being stuck with her, she didn’t find that fair-an idea so ridiculous Remus would always scoff and remind them of how incredibly altruistic it is of her to even let people even breath the same air as her, but admittedly he gets it, gets Sirius. They liked sex, they liked fun, they liked flirting, the game. And that was fine. Remus was no one to deny her of her life and the way she wanted to live it.
God, he needed a smoke.
He says as much to Peter, and starts to go up the stairs, in search of his window. Well, technically it was his and Sirius’ window. Theirs. Even before they started smoking, back in the warm summers before going back to school, when they were sleepless kids, the two of them would go up to the top floor of the Potter mansion and talk, for hours on end, falling asleep on the other’s shoulder, their pinkies brushing. But for now, he decides it was his window, even if that was a lie.
What would also be a lie is saying that there was no wishful thinking happening here. The hope that maybe going to their window would magically make Sirius appear next to them. Looking at him. Wanting to be with him.
He reaches the top floor, legs aching, taste of blood in his mouth, his lungs burning, he sits on the cushioned-edge of the window, opens it slightly and takes out a cigarette.
He blows the smoke out of the window and looks into the night, he wants to focus on the trees, the strong wind brushing them but his eyes go straight to the moon, and the stars surrounding it.
He’s all but on the verge of disappearing in his own mind when the creek of the stairs pulls him back. He almost smiles, knowing who it is. He doesn’t turn his head to look. Too scared to know what he’d find in the eyes looking back at him.
Instead he tries to remain as still as he can, his eyes staring out the window-the stars, shining back at him-a corner of his mouth curves upwards slightly.
“Remus Lupin hiding at a party? The world does still hold its surprises then.”
He lets out a deadpanned “Hah ha.” before adding, “Ever considered a career in comedy? Maybe with a funny hat?” and because he’s a weak man he turns to look when he hears a muffled giggle. His neck cramps up but he quiets it down.
It’s Sirius, which is unsurprising but still manages to make his breath catch, the light of the moon makes them shine a quiet and brilliant blueish hue, their eyes glisten. Remus feels like he’s stargazing, as if the sky out the window behind him was nothing but a pool of blacks and blues, a dark abyss compared to the brightest star that now magically, miraculously stands in front of him and laughs at the stupid, unfunny things he says.
“Bet I would look great in a funny hat.” She says as she makes her ways towards him.
“Oh I don’t doubt that, I still remember your hat phase back in third year. Groundbreaking that was.” And it's true, for what might have been a little over a month Sirius had managed to grow quite the collection of differently shaped and coloured hats. For a while it was one of her most prized possessions, before she grew out of it, only to jump into collecting scarves. It had been November after all.
“Ugh, don’t remind me, I miss some of those hats-”
Remus quickly jumps to say,“ Me too, that bright pink one, with the feathers.” He laughs at the memory of a bright pink dot amongst the blacks and dark reds crowds.
She pushes at his shoulder and lets out a high squawk. “Shut up. I was ahead of my time. I was just surrounded by uncultured idiots.” They cross their arms across their torso and fixes him with a glare reminiscent of one he would have had received at the time of The Bright Feathery Hat.
“I’m going to tell Mary you said that.”
A hint of fear flashes before she washes it away and replaces it with a confident and dignified shrug. “Go ahead, she liked the hat.”
Remus laughs and shakes his head before taking a long drag of his now long-forgotten cigarette in his hand.
They lean their body on the wall next to the window and watch him. He exhales a puff of smoke.
Eventually she asks a question he assumes she’s been wanting to ask all the while she was staring at him. “ So, what was it that did it?”
Remus frowns a bit at the question and looks at her in mild confusion, “What?”
“That made you leave the party, what was it?” She clarifies.
“Oh. Nothing in particular. Lots of people.” He lies only slightly, he’s not a fan of crowds, or noise created by crowds for that matter. An isolated childhood and chronic anxiety will do that to you. But he is an even lesser fan of people dancing closely with Sirius, they don’t need to know that.
Sirius hums a quiet noise. “Ah, just general party-anxiety then? You could have come and found me.”
“You looked quite busy.” He replies admittedly a little coldly because he’s bitter and unfair.
“Are we really doing this?” They reply, an amused glint in her eyes.
“Doing what?” Remus asks curiously.
A teasing smirk makes its way to Sirius’ face, “Acting like you’re not also a slut?”They laugh quietly at their own remark.
Which, if it wasn’t Sirius, would be cruel, as Remus was most of the time far too worried about trying to act like a human being to even have the time to be able to be a so-called “slut”. He pretended, acted, and was just incredibly lucky when the lies worked on people. Plus, nobody really interested him anyway.
“Only for you, darling.” He deadpans with a wink. Nonchalant. Good. Normal.
Sirius lets out a brilliant, breathy laugh and finally sits opposite of Remus, one leg up on the edge, the other hanging off of it.
She’s looking at Remus.
“Got one for me?” Sirius asks, jerking their head in the direction of the cigarette in Remus’ hand.
“Ah”, Remus starts with a slow understanding nod, his eyes looking at her suspiciously, “This is why you’re here for then, robbing the poor Welsh kid? Typical English bastard.”
He gets to hear Sirius laugh harder than before, he feels lucky.
“Maybe I just wanted to be with you, I’ve barely seen you all night.” They say honestly, like that’s not the greatest thing Remus has heard all evening.
“Hm, I wasn’t there for most of it.”
“Where were you?”
“Fast food.”
She lets out an undignified noise that makes him think of a wild bird, he can't remember which one, he’ll ask Dorcas, she knows birds. “What the fuck? And you didn’t bring me anything? How rude.”
“Bringing you chicken nuggets during your make out sessions doesn’t seem that appealing to me, to be honest.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?” Sirius challenges playfully.
Remus can hear a teasing smile. She knows. Of course she knows. He knew she knew. And now she was having him on. Remus was sick of this. He was done.
“You know why, so fuck off.” He replies bitterly.
He feels sick. He’s going to vomit. What a fucking idiot. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
“I’m not sure I do, sweetheart.” Sirius was looking at him, her voice sounding confident. Remus finally looks at them. There was a look in Sirius' eyes. Uncertainty? Fear? Remus didn’t get it. Those weren’t emotions Sirius felt about Remus, Remus was certitude, Remus was boring, Remus was routine, Sirius knew him.
Remus feels hope blossom in his chest, a confidence blooming, foolishly perhaps, but blooming nonetheless. Remus feels alive. He feels like he’s forgetting how to breathe.
“You’d have to be blind to not know.” He whispers, hoping, longing.
“Make me see, then.” Sirius leaning towards him, their voice small, their eyes glittering with something Remus can easily read but refuses to believe.
And Remus feels like glass has fractured, so close to falling into a million pieces no one could ever glue back together. Waiting for him to make the slightest move to break.
He’s terrified, he feels his heart beating in his throat, everywhere. He feels the need to shatter the glass, he feels the need to protect it. Protect himself. Protect Sirius. Protect the two of them. Their friendship.
He gets up from the window and takes a few steps back, still looking at Sirius, he can’t help it, “What are we doing?” The cigarette in his hand falling, he steps on it to put it out, his chest feels cloudy enough as it is.
He’s shaking.
Sirius gets up and reaches for his trembling hands. Remus steps back, terrified.
“Don’t do this to me.” He says, pathetically, “Please.”
“Do what, Moons?” She murmurs, sweet, confused, patient.
He has so much love for them it hurts. It burns in his chest, begging to get out, to claw its way up his throat and tear him apart.
“Keep it all alive when you don’t mean it. You can’t just take it back if it’s me, Sirius. It’s me.” His voice breaking. His hands bang at his chest to make her see–make her feel– his words. “It’s us.” He feels a burn in the back of his eyes, a hurt deep in his throat, he tries to push it back, he sticks his chin out, scrambling for little bits of composure.
The pounding of his fast beating heart filling his head with bright, loud and colourful fireworks. He can’t think. Think of anything but her. Her big grey eyes looking back at his, searching for answers. He doesn’t know to which questions, he doesn’t know what to give her. He wants to give her himself, he would if he had any of his left to give that wasn’t already hers, hers from the moment she smiled at him their first time in the train. When he was terrified and so was she but she gave a sweet smile anyway-and he had nothing to give but his whole.
“It’s us.” She nods. She steps towards him. He takes a few gentle steps and suddenly they’re close. Too close. Not close enough, he wants to bury himself in her skin, lay there until death finds him.
Her fingers brush his softly. She’s shaking. Remus takes her hands in his instantly. They’re soft, always the same soft, pale hand against his scarred, tan one. But in the mist of the night, under the light of the half moon and the stars, they are one. Just hands melting into one another. His eyes stay looking at their intertwined hands.
“Some guy asked about you.” Their voice breaks through the fog.
He hums what he hopes sounds like a question. He’s confused at the shift of the conversation but lets her go on. Because that’s a thing they do : talk about very important things, life-changing things, standing on the edge of that cliff, and pulling back. It’s painful and frustrating, but it's them.
“There was a guy. He asked where you were, he looked interested.” Her voice is blank which confuses Remus even more than he already was.
Remus scoffs out a bewildered laugh “Oh, I’m sure.”
Sirius stares at him the way he always does at his self-degradation. “Yeah, some guy who’s in your Radical Gothic class or something, I think. Maybe it was something else, I don’t know. I wasn't listening that much to be honest.” They respond with a shrug.
Remus searches his brain but it’s inconclusive. “What’s his name? What does he look like?” Immediately forgetting why he cares because a strand of black hair falls onto Sirius’ forehead, he pushes back behind their ear with gentle fingers.
“Benjamin? Billy? There’s a “B” in there. Tall, blonde, boring.”
A spark goes on Remus’ mind. Barry. From his Post-Colonial poetry class. He’s the one always asking Remus for pens to write stuff on his obnoxiously bright post-its, half of which are scrambled in tiny yellow balls by the end of the lecture. On the third lecture they’ve had together, one of these post-its had Barry’s number on it, he handed it to Remus with a glint in his pale green eyes Remus hadn’t really understood. Now that he thinks about it, Remus doesn’t think he ever did use that number. He can’t remember ever creating the contact.
Remus always gave him a pen because, well, he’s the only one in the class who still writes on a piece of paper and a pen. He has a laptop, it’s just that it’s an old piece of crap and makes far too much noise, and Remus would rather die than be “the guy with the loud, old, crappy laptop”. Sue him.
He’s hit with a sudden realisation. “Wait. Wasn’t he the guy you were just dancing with?” He realises he didn’t look at the man all that much, he was too focused on Sirius’ brightness, but now that he thinks about it he can remember the flash of a slightly familiar mob of blonde hair.
Sirius has a glint in her eyes that screams mischief. She smirks slightly as she says “Well, yeah.”
Remus has to admit he finds them slightly too endearing to be frustrated. “I thought you said he was interested in me. You lying twat.” He pokes her stomach with a soft finger.
Sirius shakes their head with an amused laugh then lifts one of his shoulders in a shrug and their smile turns a little more shy but they fix Remus with a look, “I didn’t lie. He was. It’s just easy to distract men who just want to fuck. So I did.”
“Why though?” Because why.
“Don’t know. Didn’t want him to find you. Sorry if I blew it for you. For what it's worth you wouldn’t have liked him, he’s far too boring." He now says avoiding Remus’ eyes with another shrug, Remus puts a hand on the shrugging shoulder and brings it down.
“I am not interested in Barry.” He says seriously.
“Who?”
Remus laughs, throwing his head back, “Benjamin.”
“Oh, well neither am I really, you don’t have to be interested in someone to have a little fun.” She wiggles her shoulder just a bit. Remus breathes out a light laugh.
Remus knows that about Sirius, admires it really, he wishes he could be like that but no, he tried, he has had partners before, romantically or solely sexually, but he was unfair and cruel, kept drawing invisible lines and contrasts to Sirius in his head the whole time. So he’ll always break it off gently and was met with either incomprehension or anger, or at the worst times, an understanding and pitying smile. Pathetic.
“I do, I think.” He murmurs, pathetically. Because that is why he’s so afraid of talking to Sirius about the whole "remember-when-we-kissed-and-you-left-and-pretended-like-nothing-ever-happened-probably-because-you-don't-need-to-be-interested-in-someone-to-have-a-little-fun-but-I’m-desperately-in-love-with-you-which-makes-the-situation-just-a-big-awful-and-painful-mess?” Because it's not Sirius’ fault if Remus is not what they're looking for, and it’ll be unfair to bring it up and make them feel bad over his inability to be “chill” and “have fun”.
“Always have been a romantic bastard, Moons. Oh well, poor old Benji.” Her smile is sharp and blinding and Remus can’t look away.
“He’ll be fine. Look at him already upgrading from his very non-existent crush on me-” Sirius groans loudly and rolls their eyes “-to dancing with an uninterested Sirius Black. Lucky bastard. People would pay a hefty prize for that, you know.”
“Hm, what about an interested Sirius Black?” They ask, an odd look in their eyes.
I would die. But he doesn't need to say all of that.
“Oof, see, I knew those pretentious, obnoxiously expensive tutors managed to get some business sense into your brain.” Remus puts both of his hands to Sirius’ cheeks and squishes them before saying, “You are gonna make a fortune. My little capitalist mastermind.” He huffs with a faux air of impress and pride. He lets go of their face.
“Hm. I don’t know, I can't be that good if I keep letting people get access to that premium interested Sirius Black service for free.” She sends him a look he doesn't quite know how to interpret. He stops a bit at the question because what.
“When have you ever been truly interested in someone you danced with?” He aims for teasing but probably lands on pathetic moron. Classic.
“Well now, Mister Lupin, we’ve danced lots of times.” She stares into his eyes, their teasing smile fluttering into an honest, smaller one.
The eerie and heavy silence is back and Remus suddenly remembers the very serious, life-altering conversation they were in before Barry was mentioned. That stupid post-its-writing idiot.
Remus lets out a strangled breath, he lets his head fall forward, breaking eye contact. He feels dizzy. And in a small voice he puts all the courage he can summon into his next words, because Sirius deserves him at his bravest.“You left when I kissed you last time.”
He hears the crack of the glass and decides to ignore it, embrace it, let it fall into pieces.
He hears a catch of a breath from Sirius, he looks back up. He’s met with surprise in those grey eyes, but also hope, sparks he knows Sirius can find reflected in Remus’ eyes. Grey meets amber in understanding and uncertainty.
Sirius finally speaks, her voice uncharacteristically quiet and cracking, “ I didn't want you to not mean it. I didn't want you to think I didn't mean it.” It’s a vulnerability he’s thankful to know so well in Sirius but one that would never fail to make him feel like he struck gold and then found diamonds. “I know how you get and I’m sorry I left you in the dark, I just-” Her voice cuts off in a muffled sniff, her eyes shine, Remus’ heart breaks.
He holds onto her hands tighter, he aches to hold her, so he does. He wraps his arm around her shoulders and tugs gently until they are flushed against each other, he breathes in her hair and places a comforting kiss on her temple. “It’s okay.” He murmurs into her ear.
She shakes her head.
“No. No, it's not okay, I should have talked to you, I shouldn't have left you all alone. I should-”
He pulls back to look at her in her eyes, shining grey things.
“I should have talked to you. But I didn’t. We didn’t. But we are now, right? Full honesty ?” It’s when he goes to wipe away the sparkling tears on her flushed cheeks that he realises that he's crying. Sirius brings a hand to his cheek to do the same motion as Remus with a gentle thumb.
She nods fervently and lets out a shaky, teary laugh. “Full honesty.” She agrees.
Ironically, they sit in a comfortable silence for a little while, an honest silence, they sit in the possible revelation that they could be something more, not changed, not different, just them, but honest.
He laughs into the silence. He can't help it. He’s been waiting for this for as long as he can remember, and now it might be happening, hope is a funny thing, so he laughs and they join him because they can finally hope for honesty together.
“I meant it.” He says into the silence hoping it catches onto something. Hoping to reassure her, to let her know wanting her is not a question. “I meant the kiss.”
She smiles that brilliant smile. “I meant the kiss too.”
Remus’ world flips over and it’s glorious. He welcomes broken glass and the cold and harsh wind of the fall from the edge. He can’t stop smiling. He has to look away from her eyes before he faints. “Good. That’s very good. Brilliant, actually.”
“God, you’re the smartest idiot on the planet.” He distantly hears her laughing at him, he thinks, because then she’s bringing his face back to her and she kisses him, purposefully, honestly, and he forgets about anything else.
She holds his face with warm and firm hands, their noses crush against the other’s cheek. He feels his eyelashes fluttering and her soft, pale skin. He holds onto her waist and tries to bring her impossibly closer, his fingers melting into her back.
They seemingly have the same desire because she lets go of his face to wrap her arms behind his neck and tugs, arching both their bodies towards the other in the process. They are flushed together, clay moulded into one mush of flesh and bones. He bites onto her lip, because he can and he wants to, she lets out a startled groan and tugs at his hair, he melts to her touch and feels her swallow his moan.
By the time they pull back, it’s their unstoppable grins that forces them apart. Flushed, inseparable lips turn into series of loud, smiling pecks and fits of breathless laughter. Both their lips are glistening and their foreheads remain touching.
Remus brings his face to her neck and squeezes her tight. “I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t in love with you.” He confesses to the safety of her neck.
Sirius goes very still for a second before she laughs, a loud and surprised thing, and pushes at his shoulder until they are eye to eye, their forehead touching once again. Remus feels himself on the verge of being cross-eyed trying to look into her deeply soulful eyes that hold words he can only hope are going to come out of her mouth any second.
“I can, you know.” They murmur, her breath tingling his lips, “Remember when I fell in love with you.” Sirius grins giddy like she’s been waiting to say that for a while now, Remus feels the same way he did when he was a kid and he could smell the chocolaty aroma of his mom’s brownies from his room.
He leans back slightly just to see her better, his eyebrows go up in surprise and he questions, “Oh? Can you now?” with a smile mirroring hers now because he can’t help it, and why should he try to anyway?
She nods and hums in response “Hm, I remember, I was sitting with James on the train, my hands couldn’t stop shaking because I was so nervous and then a boy with floppy curls and a face full of freckles came into our booth and asked, with such a strong Welsh accent I could barely understand him-” they wave a dismissive hand and rolls their eyes with an amusement so clear he pitches her waist and tell her, “You posh fuck.”
Sirius gapes at him in faux offence but her lips twitch as she fights to contain a laugh, at the end she puts a hand over his face to shut him up. He licks her hand. “I wasn’t finish, so this poor peasant boy comes in-”
He pushes her gently off him and exclaims a loud and amused, “Alright!” This time she laughs loudly and holds out her arms for him to reach for him. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding, let me finish the story of when I fell in love you bellend.” Remus lets her take his hands again and pull him back. Because he is a weak man and quite frankly very in love at the moment.
“You did not fall in love with me the first time you saw me, that’s a full lie.” He interjects as she lets out a loud and affronted noise. “It’s impossible, I was awkward and weird and you and James were like the first people my age I’d talked to that month.” He gives her a long and knowing look.
It’s true. Remus grew up surrounded by his parents for the first few years, then mostly by his mom when he got more and more sick and his visits to the doctors and then to the hospital all became a bit much for his dad. So then when he got around six and the illness very much became a part of their everyday life Lyall decided it would be best to homeschool him. Remus is sure he didn’t mean to fully isolate him at such a young age, it was all done as a way of protecting him, and to calm the burning guilt that plagued his dad, children were mean and far too honest for their own good or the one of others, that’s what Lyall said at least. But the point is, Remus didn’t have friends his age growing up, he talked to adults almost exclusively apart from the few kids he saw around town or at the hospital sometimes. Then came Hogwarts, by the firm request of his mother who only managed to convince Lyall because he was an alumni for generations and that it would be a waste to give that up, and in came the ridiculous but vital friendships without which he would have probably withered away in painful and miserable sorrow and solitude.
“Shut up. You were cute. And funny, you had James and I crying before we even got to Hogwarts. You were talking like a grown up, it was ridiculous. And you had that sweater that was too big on you. We could barely see your hands! Adorable.” She emphasizes her point by poking his nose, he scrunches it just to watch her laugh.
“I was ridiculous, and awfully boring.”
Sirius rolls their eyes at him and crosses her arms. “Well, I found you interesting. And so did most people. All our friends did.”
“I was told I was boring. By you guys. On multiple occasions.”
They point a finger in his direction and smile at him winningly. “See, you just lost the argument, you know we were joking. You taught us sarcasm.” He lets out an incredulous laugh.
“I wasn’t aware we were fighting just now.”
“Well, we were and you lost.”
Remus nods his head and accepts his obvious defeat. He however pulls at her hands and brings his face closer to hers. “So.”
She mimics his stupid smile and repeats, “So.” Making sure to elongate the sound.
“I want to take you out on a date.” The nervousness of his voice makes them laugh and shake their head.
“Remus, we’ve been on thousands of dates.”
“Not official ones. I want to take you on an official date. I want to do this properly.”
Her small teasing smile transforms into a seemingly uncontrollable grin that splits her face in half. She nods once. “Okay. I would love to.”
“Great. Movie? Dinner? Picnic? Do you have a preference?”
“But see, we already do movie nights.”
“But that's a group activity.”
“Nooo, Friday movie nights are a group activity, Sunday movie nights is just us.” She gives him a long look. “I’m telling you we already do everything couples do, I don’t care, whatever we do can be a date. I just want you.” She says with an earnestness that makes his eyes sting. He coughs to get rid of the uncomfortable knot stuck in his throat.
Remus knows they don’t act the way normal friends do. He has known that for a while now and if he had any sense of self-preservation or any less love for Sirius, he would have put a stop to it a long time ago. He doesn't act that way with Peter, he won’t talk about James and his friendship because according to Lily they're just as weird and co-dependent as James and Sirius, which, they're definitely not, although he sees what they mean. James is just an overwhelmingly affectionate person, a fact Remus has grown to shamelessly love. He used to pretend to get annoyed at James’ numerous displays of affection or praise, or gifts. But now that they’re all adults and that he has moved past most of his issues with acceptance of love and affection from others, his fond smiles and reciprocity of attention for his friends are no longer things he hides. Anyway, he knows the way James acts around him, although definitely homoerotic to an untrained eye, or just any eyes apparently (right…Lily) is internally different from his relation to Sirius.
He knows that making different plans than their friends solely to be alone with one another is not purely platonic. At least certainly not for them. He does change plans solely to see James or Lily alone…but they're not Sirius.
“Alright, then let’s go to dinner, that Italian place where all the couples go. Then we’ll see. I want to redo the aquarium, just us.”
“Just us. I can buy you a shark to make Daniel less lonely.”
“Daniel is fine. He has Rodrigo and Anastasia.” He waves a dismissive hand.
“Hm. But, see, I worry he might feel left out amongst the dinos, there’s just some things he can’t relate to, maybe it would help if he had a buddy.”
“Sure, but he should know there are no classes in the facility of my bedroom.” Remus’ eyebrows pull together in a frown.
She puts a comforting hand on his chest and pats it a few time. “Of course not, you would have gotten a rash. I’m thinking community, love, not systemic oppression.”
“Good. I think I want a thresher shark this time.”
Sirius nods decisively. “Then you’ll get one.”
“I can buy one, you know.” He says, just to prove a point and because he always does, it’s tradition.
“Sure, but why would you, when you have rich friends who love paying for you? And now, a rich partner who definitely gets dips, by the way.” She ends her phrase with a pointed look.
“I won’t be the one to tell James that.”
“I’ll tell him. I have more money than him anyway, that prat.” They say with an air of triumph. Remus closes his eyes and shakes his head in response.
“I think I just threw up in my mouth a little.”
“Awwww.”
“You’re so weird.”
She rolls her eyes.“Please, you love me.”
“Hm. I do.” He feels a warmth spreading in his chest, it must show on his face because she laughs and pushes at his face with her hand. “God, you’re such a swot.”
“Please, you love it.” Mimicking her.
“I love you, idiot” She puts her hands behind his neck again and looks at him with big, starry grey eyes.
He pulls her to him and edges his face close so he can feel her breath on his lips. “And I’m the swot?”
“Yeah.” She leans in and kisses him. He can be the swot all they want.