The cheers swelled and echoed through the packed room, a steady hum of conversation buzzing around like the constant, rhythmic beating of wings. It had been going like this for hours, frenetic and loud, as if the energy of New Year’s Eve was bubbling up through every crack in the walls. The alcohol flowed freely, but so did the words, fast and barely controlled, like everyone was rushing to say everything before midnight struck.
Sirius had just stepped through the door, fresh from dodging the clutches of his family's dreadfully posh New Year’s gathering—or one could say that he perhaps, by some stroke of luck, had managed to escape Azkaban itself. Either way, he was here now, at the kind of party he preferred: chaotic, full of life, and absolutely free of his family’s stiff formality.
He scanned the room, eyes moving past the groups clustered together in laughter and drunken debate. Sirius was looking for someone. No, he realized— he was looking at him now .
There, in the far corner by the window, a figure stood apart from the crowd. He was barely illuminated by the faint glow of the streetlamp outside, smoke curling from a cigarette between his fingers, rising in lazy spirals before dissolving into the chilly night air. The sight stopped Sirius in his tracks, his breath catching in his throat. He took a few steps forward, moving through the crowd as if some invisible tether was pulling him closer to the man at the window.
But then....... A hand clapped down on his shoulder, halting him mid-step.
"Oi, Sirius!" James’ voice cut through the noise, loud and familiar, a grin spreading across his face. "I thought old Wally had shipped you halfway across the world after what you pulled on your birthday!"
Sirius blinked, trying to refocus. "Oh, no—ha, not yet, at least," he replied, his voice coming out more anxious than he'd intended. James was still talking, going on about something else, but Sirius' attention was slipping, his eyes drifting back toward the window.
The figure was gone. The window was closed.
Sirius' heart dropped into his stomach. Remus , he was sure of it—was nowhere to be seen.
He barely registered James anymore, offering him a distracted pat on the arm as he muttered, "I’ve got to find my Moony."
James raised an eyebrow but didn’t protest as Sirius weaved through the crowd, his pace picking up as the seconds passed. He moved from one corner of the room to another, ducking through clusters of partygoers, but Remus—if it had been Remus—had vanished. Anxiety gnawed at him, something intangible slipping away.
He cursed under his breath, the electric energy of the party around him only heightening his agitation. Conversations whirled past him, snippets of laughter, drunken toasts, and flirtatious banter. A few people tried to grab his attention, pulling at his arm, calling his name, but Sirius brushed them off with a quick shake of his head.
Remus was nowhere. Sirius’ heart pounded faster with each passing second, the din of the party around him only making his sense of urgency more acute. He glanced at the clock on the wall—just one hour until midnight. The countdown to a new year, to fireworks splitting the sky and painting it in vibrant colors, was closing in, but Sirius wasn’t interested in the spectacle. His thoughts were entirely fixed on finding Remus.
Around him, the party buzzed with life. People inside would be clinking glasses, leaning into stolen kisses, shouting over one another as they made their final toasts of the year. The air crackled with excitement, the kind that came before something big—before time ran out. But for Sirius, the real countdown had started all those years ago, and it wasn’t just the clock pushing him forward. It was the gnawing feeling that something was slipping through his fingers.
He scanned the room again, moving through the crowd, weaving past friends and strangers alike. The laughter and chatter, once welcoming, now felt like static noise, making it harder to think. He passed a group of familiar faces—Marlene and Lily deep in conversation, Peter laughing too loudly at some joke—but none of them registered properly. Sirius' mind was elsewhere.
Where was he?
Sirius slipped through another door, this one leading to a quieter hall. The muffled sounds of the party faded behind him, replaced by the low hum of distant voices. His heart raced, the urgency still tight in his chest. The corridor was dim, only half-lit by the weak glow of wall lamps, and he moved quickly, almost on instinct, opening door after door.
A broom closet—empty.
A small lounge—no one there.
He swore under his breath and leaned against the wall, the coolness of the plaster briefly grounding him. The clock ticked forward, mercilessly, and he could almost hear the anticipation in the house building, like a pressure ready to burst at midnight. Fireworks, laughter, celebrations . But none of it mattered if he couldn’t find Remus.
The sharp smell of cigarette smoke suddenly hit his nose. Sirius froze. His pulse quickened as he followed the scent, moving toward a door that led to a balcony, hidden from the main room. He pushed it open, and there, standing with his back to the party, his hands resting on the railing, was Remus. His cigarette was barely a flicker in the night, and the smoke curled lazily into the air, disappearing into the darkness.
Sirius felt that familiar flutter of excitement stir in his chest, the same one that had hit him the moment he stepped into the party earlier. It wasn’t just excitement—it was something more electric, a charge that buzzed through him and made everything around him seem sharper, more vivid, as if the whole world had dialed itself up a notch. His senses felt heightened, like he was tuned into something only he and Remus could understand.
As he stepped out onto the balcony, the cool night air wrapping around him, his eyes locked on Remus. The sound of the party seemed to fade into the background. Remus' gaze flicked over quickly, scanning Sirius as though registering his presence before Sirius even said a word. There was an unspoken recognition there, a subtle shift in Remus’ posture, like Sirius had been the missing piece to some quiet moment he hadn’t known he was waiting for.
For a brief second, the world paused. Just the two of them, in the cool night air, under the sky waiting to burst into color.
Sirius shifted on his feet, running a hand through his hair. The cool night air nipped at his skin, but he barely noticed, his mind buzzing with everything he wanted to say. But it wasn’t just the words. It was the way his heart raced when he caught the way the cigarette smoke curled around Remus' fingers, or how Remus’ lips quirked into that small smile—just enough to set Sirius off balance, even now.
“I was half-convinced you weren’t even going to show up tonight, you know,” Remus said, his tone casual but laced with something Sirius couldn’t quite place.
Sirius smirked, leaning against the balcony railing, letting the cool metal ground him as his pulse quickened. “Oh, come on, Moony,” he replied, his voice playful but soft. “You really think I’d miss this?” He gestured toward the party inside, but it was clear what he really meant wasn’t just the chaos happening behind them. “Miss you?” Sirius spoke quietly.
Remus raised an eyebrow, that familiar amused glint in his eye. “You have a habit of being… unpredictable,” he said, flicking the end of his cigarette, the embers glowing briefly in the night air.
Sirius chuckled, the sound low and easy, though his chest tightened slightly. “Unpredictable? Maybe. But not when it comes to you.”
There it was—out there now, hanging in the space between them. Sirius hadn’t planned to say it, hadn’t meant to be so forward, but the words had slipped out before he could stop them. And even though he could feel his heartbeat hammering in his throat, he didn’t regret it. Not for a second.
Remus’ lips twitched again, that small smile returning, and for a moment, he said nothing. Just let the smoke curl up and disappear into the night as Sirius watched him, waiting, hoping.
“I suppose I should be flattered then,” Remus finally said, his voice quieter now, like they were sharing some private joke. But there was something softer there too—an acknowledgment, maybe. Something Sirius had always hoped for but never dared to assume.
Sirius shifted closer, the distance between them shrinking even more, just a breath apart now. He felt that familiar flutter again, like the world was pulling them together, some invisible force he couldn’t fight. And for once, he didn’t want to.
“Flattered?” Sirius said, his voice dropping to a low murmur, his eyes locked on Remus’. “You should be used to it by now. You know I’d go anywhere if it meant finding you.”
The words were bold, more direct than usual, but Sirius didn’t care. The air between them felt charged, like something was about to shift, and he wasn’t going to let the moment slip away. Not this time.
Remus tilted his head slightly, his gaze softening as the corner of his mouth curved into a real smile, one that reached his eyes. "You always know how to make an entrance, don’t you?"
Sirius grinned, his heart soaring. "Only for you."
Sirius’ heart raced a little faster, with Remus standing there, cigarette in hand and that quiet smile on his face, the rest of the world seemed to fall away. The noise of the party behind them faded into nothing, the cold night air forgotten. It was as if they were the only two people in the universe.
Sirius, unable to stop himself now, took a step closer. Then another. His breath hitched, his pulse thrumming louder in his ears with each centimeter he closed between them. Remus’ amber eyes, glowing softly in the low light, met his gaze and held it. They pierced through Sirius' icy blue, cutting through every wall, every ounce of bravado. It was as if Remus could see every vulnerable piece of him, and yet, Sirius had never felt more certain of anything.
Without thinking- because thinking would have ruined it-Sirius closed the last bit of space between them, his body drawn in by some magnetic force he couldn’t resist. Their eyes stayed locked, the tension in the air humming like electricity, until the moment their lips finally touched.
It was soft at first, a delicate brush that sent a jolt through Sirius, as though the world had shifted beneath him. A flood of warmth rushed through him, melting away the nervous energy that had been buzzing in his chest all night. Everything else disappeared, the party, the cold, the noise, time itself. All that existed was Remus— Moony —and the taste of cigarettes and whisky, something Sirius had been chasing.
And then, just like that, the kiss deepened. Remus leaned into him, and Sirius felt everything—years of unspoken words, stolen glances, quiet moments heavy with meaning. It was like the kiss carried all of it, every buried feeling, every shared history, crashing together in one perfect, undeniable moment.
Just as Sirius felt the world right itself beneath him, something shifted again. There was a brief stillness before the sky above them erupted into light and colour. Fireworks exploded in the night, painting the darkness with every colour of the rainbow and beyond. The air around them crackled, each firework echoing like a heartbeat as sparks showered down, illuminating the balcony with flashes of brilliance.
But Sirius barely noticed. The fireworks only seemed to amplify the moment, as if the universe had decided this was the exact second to burst into celebration. The flutter in his chest settled into something steady, something sure, as the kiss continued, grounded in the reality of now . With Remus so close, the world felt both larger and smaller at once, as though it had opened up just for them, yet shrunk down to this one connection, two people standing under a sky set ablaze, completely lost in each other.