Truthfully, you have never given it much thought. The way you and Remus function as a couple feels right, the most natural relationship you've ever been in, so why would you think anything about it was out of the ordinary? He's absolutely besotted, he tells you so very often, and you feel much the same.
He adores everything about you. He lets you take the lead on so many things because he knows you so well. You've got a reputation as a very "chill couple," whatever that means. Whenever you're at a party or a bar you often socialize apart until you catch each other's eyes over the crowd and he'll be at your side in a second. The familiar, solid heat of him as close as you want and no more.
Remus has never complained that you're not glued to his side. He seems perfectly content to have your hand in the crook of his elbow or your fingers on his knee under the table. You've just never needed that kind of grounding, never felt like you wanted to show that to other people. They don't need to be privy to your relationship.
"All it takes is one look to know how you're feeling, darling," he's said to you. "Those eyes give it all away."
"And here I thought I was mysterious!"
So, your tendency not to be overly affectionate has bothered neither of you. Until someone asks you about it directly at some party.
"Did you get together recently?" a girl you don't know asks. "Or are you just a flirty thing?"
You blink. "Sorry, what?"
"You and the tall one with the, uh, scars? I'm sorry, I don't know his name."
"Remus," you tell her. "I -- no, we're together. We've been together."
She laughs a bit nervously. "Oh," she says. "I just thought, well, he keeps looking at you but you guys aren't very touchy? Like, I only kind of know Lily and James but they are always all over each other, just so obviously in love and --"
"Alright, darling?" She's cut off by Remus's warm tone. You turn and find him at your side, a crease between his brows like he sensed your distress and came over to check on you. Knowing him, that''s exactly what happened.
"Yes, I -- can we get some air?" He nods and you hook a finger through his belt loop as he leads you away from the girl.
It's not her fault, not really. She certainly doesn't mean to make you feel bad about it, but you don't know her. And why are you feeling bad about it, anyway? It's never bothered you before. It's never bothered anyone else before.
And Remus has never said anything about it.
You spill onto the deck of the house and the cool air is a bit of a shock after the crowd. Remus immedietly shucks off his sweater and tugs it over your head.
"Hello," he says, once you pop your face through the neck hole. He fixes your hair.
"Hi," you say softly.
"What was all that?" He jerks his chin back at the house and you sigh.
"Not sure, actually." You link your pinky through his and tug his arm. He knows what you want, as always, and drapes it over your shoulder. "Well, that's not true. I know exactly what happened. She said something innocent that...got in my head."
"Really?" The crease is back between his brows. You want to smooth it away but you don't.
"Does it bother you that we don't do this a lot?" You roll your shoulders to indicate his arm. He looks even more confused.
"I'm afraid I'm still not up to speed," he says slowly. "Do what a lot?"
"Touch," you mutter. "Or like, be affectionate in public. I'm hardly ever touching you. I mean, she asked me if we were even together for fuck's sake."
"Woah, woah, alright," Remus says. He steps in front of you, hands resting loosely on your jaw. It's not an unfamiliar touch, though a bit of an intense one for you -- Remus has seen all of you many, many times behind closed doors. But it's more than you're prone to in public. "What can I do to make this better?"
"Tell me if it bothers you," you say petulantly.
"No," he replies. "Not at all. You're plenty affectionate with me, darling. You touch me whenever you want which is more than I ever dreamed of back when I was drooling over you and you didn't even know my name."
You wrap your hands around his wrists and lean into his palm. "We don't kiss, really." You don't know why you're arguing with him about this. Remus has proven time and time again that he's in this for the long haul.
"Is that so? What would you call what we were doing this afternoon? That was quite a lot of kissing, if I recall, and not all of it mouth to mouth --"
"Remus," you chide. He smirks.
"My point is whatever we do and how we do it is no one's business. I love how we are. I love how you are."
You close your eyes for a moment and feel the warmth of his palms, his sweater, his presence. It's not worth getting worked up over, he's right. Regardless of what people think, what it might look like, you and Remus are going home together at the end of every day. He loves you and he tells you as often as he can.
"I love how you are, too," you say softly and open your eyes. Remus is grinning at you.
"Home?" he asks. You nod.
"Home."