Remus had just been discharged from the Hospital Wing and ordered by Madam Pomfrey to go and eat something before he could head back to bed. Sirius, as usual, was waiting for him in the corridor and immediately started talking at Remus about James’ latest attempt at wooing Lily.
Remus had a headache. He often did after the moon. He tried not to consider whether his brain transformed with the rest of him. It wasn’t covered in any of the grotesque studies done on werewolves, but it would probably explain the headaches. Or maybe the wolf should hydrate better. Maybe he should hydrate better. Sirius was still talking.
As they reached their spot at the Gryffindor table with no sign of Sirius letting up, he smiled over at Lily and rolled his eyes slightly. She returned the gesture and mouthed ‘You okay?’ to which he nodded with a grimace.
“Alright, Moony?” James said as Sirius piled food onto Remus’ plate.
Remus smiled, trying to will away the throbbing in his head. The loud ambiance of the Great Hall was not helping and he pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping that would somehow help. “Headache.” He said quietly.
James nodded, “Make sure you’re drinking enough water.”
“Thanks, Mum.” Remus sipped his water to appease James, “Happy?”
James nodded, “Very. At least someone listens to me.” He shot a look at Sirius.
“He wanted me to agree to learn guitar so that we could write a song for Evans. We’ve all heard him sing in the shower, all that would accomplish is an unfortunate accident involving James’ vocal cords.” When Sirius was anxious about something, he talked, and talked, and talked. Remus didn’t hold it against him, his own coping mechanism of withdrawing completely wasn’t exactly great either. But on Sirius went, “Like, what would we even write about? Comparing her to flowers? What even rhymes with Evans?”
“Heavens.” Remus muttered, “Sevens, Leavens, Elevens.”
“You’re a walking fucking dictionary, that doesn’t count.” He continued, with a fond look at Remus. “But you think I’m going to learn guitar and get these fingers all callous-y and sore? For what? James to get hexed again? I think the fuck not. You know the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different—”
Sirius stopped. He looked down at his leg, where Remus’ hand had come to rest. Now rendered speechless, and incapable of any coherent thought. Remus squeezed softly.
It had meant to be a grounding thing, but Remus didn’t think he’d ever touched Sirius’ thigh before and it was… surprisingly muscular? Was that a thing people said about their friends’ thighs? Anyway, it seemed to have worked, so he kept his hand there and returned to his dinner with his free hand while Sirius tried to regain the ability to function.
Good to know thought Remus.
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The next time it happened was only a few days later during quidditch practice. James had convinced the other three to come and watch for some godforsaken reason, and Remus had only agreed on the condition that he could bring his book. Remus wasn’t very far into it yet, because any time he sat down to read it, just as he started to get sucked in, there was Sirius. Whether he was walking around in a towel after a shower, insisting on putting a record on and singing along, asking him questions about the book that Remus didn’t know the answer to because he couldn’t fucking focus on it long enough, or just lying next to him on his bed, reading his own book, a smutty looking thing called Blaze Wyndham.
Sirius and Pete were chatting away next to him, discussing the training exercises James was leading and giggling like children when he almost lost his glasses during a particularly violent dive.
Remus instinctively moved his hand to Sirius’ thigh and squeezed. Sirius’ laughter stopped immediately and he looked at Remus in surprise. Remus smiled at him before returning his gaze to his book.
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The straw that broke the camel’s back was after the first game of the year, which Gryffindor won. That was never in doubt. James and Lily shooed all of the lower years out of the common room and James brought out their entire Firewhisky stash.
After a couple of hours, Remus was tipsy, and a little nauseous. He excused himself back to the dorm, ignoring everyone’s protests and threatening to vomit on all of them if they pushed it. He settled on his bed, pulling his emergency bar of chocolate from under the mattress. He figured it would either settle his stomach or empty it, and either sounded like a better option than the swirling in his abdomen.
Not even ten minutes later, the door swung open and Sirius swept into the room, collapsing next to Remus on his bed, giddy.
“You are never going to guess what just happened! So we were playing truth or dare because, Marlene. And I dared Evans to kiss Prongs. And. She. Did. for ages.” He babbled, “It was actually kind of gross, and Prongs is going to be insufferable now. We thought he was bad before, but now he actually has a chance, he’s never going to shut up, is he? Oh, god, what have I done? Why would I--”
Remus’ hand came to rest on his thigh again and not only did he squeeze it, but his thumb started tracing small arcs across the taut muscles. He didn’t look up from his book, but from the way his mouth was twitching, Sirius knew that he was pleased with himself.
“Honestly, Pads. If I’d known that this was all it took to get you to shut the fuck up—” Sirius cut him off by pressing a tender kiss to his lips. Remus, naturally, was rendered speechless.