Remus was a simple bloke. One with a stick up his arse more often than not, but still quite simple. He liked music, books, rain, and his best mates. He was, as some would describe, drab. Remus did not care for pranks, much to the dismay of his friends, he did not enjoy snogging birds in broom closets, and he most certainly did not care for parties. He was no match to his peers, whether it was about appearances or popularity, and he much preferred lone saturday nights to social events. Hogwarts to many, was a place to kickback and relax their worries, safe from the horrors of reality. To Remus, Hogwarts was a stepping stool to his not so bright future. He knew, once he finished his education, he would be miserable for the rest of his life. He was certainly aware of exactly what his future entailed, just like the rest of his kind. Remus studied, but not for the reasons one might think. He did not enjoy spending his days in the library, going over the same subject over and over again, but he knew that in the real world, nobody would hire an uneducated werewolf, if any at that. So here he was, sitting on his bed, memorizing every line from his potions textbook, lest he get anything other than an O in his O.W.L.S. The victory shouts did not cease, despite the party having been going on for around 3 hours or so. They had won the quidditch match against the Puffs, thanks to their honorary players, who were now having their names engraved on the wall of champions, as James liked to call it. Just as his thoughts circled back to the book in his hand, the door creaked open, revealing a less than sober Sirius Black, or Padfoot, as he so insists they all call him. “You’re pissed.” He said, not bothering to look up, yet not truly reading the words in front of him. Sirius, in all honesty, was a right mess, yet he never looked better. His hair was tousled, draped over his shoulder and sticking out from all ends. His shirt was hanging open, revealing toned muscles, some of which Remus had the pleasure admiring from afar. His pupils were blown wide and he had a dreamy smile on his face as he tripped over to his bed, sitting down softly. He was his greatest weakness, and his greatest strength. “Moony,” He said, never once turning to look at Remus. He made a humming noise, indicating he was, in fact, listening. “I haven’t showered yet.” He looks at the drunken boy in question, wondering where he planned on taking this conversation. “Help me to the bath, will you?” He says, and Remus’s heart skips a beat. “Alright.” He replies, his tone sounding exasperated, if only to cover up the true feelings such a request ignited within him.
Sirius is looking at the floor with a puzzled expression, one of which Remus doesn’t question for a second. If he knows his friend, which he does, Sirius is currently thinking of either the most brilliant invention known to mankind, or contemplating whether red apples come from red trees. He slowly undresses him, kneeling down to rid him of his trousers, a recurring event as of late. Sirius gets pissed, askes Remus to take care of him, and Remus obliges with no complaint. His short term crush had turned into a lifelong unrequited love towards his best mate. He was miserable, of course, knowing all too well Sirius would never feel what Remus felt. He didn’t think for a second Sirius thought of him while looking at the moon, much like Remus while looking at the stars. He knew it was hopeless, and spent every day cursing magic itself for creating Sirius Black.
He nudged him towards the bath, allowing him to soak in the hot water. He brought out the soap Sirius preferred, and as usual, began massaging his scalp gently. For a brief moment, Remus allowed himself to feel solace in the warmth of his star, in the comfort of his one and only love.
“Moony,” He said, pulling Remus out of his thoughts. “I like Prongs.” He stated, breaking poor Remus’s heart. He had always known, deep down, that James was the only one Sirius ever had eyes for, and yet, he could not help the way his heart shattered at those words. “I know.” He slowly choked out. “I like you too.” His despair turned into confusion, not quite understanding the boy he was touching so intimately. “I like you, but not like Prongs.” Remus hummed, the despair returning once more. “When I look at his mouth, I think of him chugging a firewhiskey down his throat.” He did not reply. “When I look at your mouth, I feel ashamed.” The confusion was back. “I feel wrong, because I know it’s wrong. I know I shouldn’t feel that way when you smile.” He was lost, not quite understanding what Sirius was getting at. “When I’m kissing a girl,” He started, and Remus couldn’t help the tug of jealousy weighing down at the pit of his stomach. “I pretend her lips are yours.”
…The jealousy was gone, and so was the confusion, and the despair, replaced by shock and disbelief. “I think… I think I fancy you, Remus.”
He awoke, disappointment deep in his gut as he realized it was nothing more than a dream. That was, until he felt a familiar mope of black hair brush against his face. His face warmed up considerably, heart thumping in his chest loud and clear. Evidently, his heart had nearly been jumping out of his chest, as Sirius stirred awake. “Mmm… Moony?” He said softly into Remus’s nape, driving him beyond mad. “Yeah.. I’m here.” He felt Sirius smile against his skin, snuggling into him further. He took this as a sign to wrap his hands around the boy, running his fingers under his shirt. Sirius hummed contently, satisfied with the show of affection. Something inside Remus tugged at the unfamiliar sensation of holding his star so close, pulling and twisting on his heart.
His mind was racing with worries, worries that Sirius would suddenly jump out of his arms, claiming it was all nothing but a cruel prank. All those thoughts became insignificant, though, as Sirius whispered in his ear the words he had been longing to hear for oh so long.
“I love you, Moony.”