“Goodnight, Sirius,” Harry said as he lingered in the dining room doorway of 12 Grimmauld Place. Sirius gave him a warm smile and a slight nod. “Goodnight, Professor.” Remus smiled.
Sirius and Remus watched as Harry sleepily trailed up the stairs. When he disappeared behind the landing, Sirius turned to Remus and sighed. Apart from them, the whole house was asleep now. Sirius got up from where he was leaning against the long wooden table and made his way into the kitchen and Remus took that as his cue to follow. Sirius filled up a kettle with water and placed it on the old gas stove. He turned it on and struck a match, quickly lighting the burner.
“He really reminds me of us. And James,” Sirius said finally. He looked at Remus who was now sitting on the countertop across from him. His face was dimly lit by the glow of streetlights from outside, the high points of his cheeks lit in little triangles of light. He looked warm, from the soft orange light that coated the room and the wool of his cardigan. His posture was slouched, leaning on his hands that gripped the edge of the counter and his head was tilted down ever so slightly so his sandy hair fell in soft waves over his eyes. He was the very opposite of the kind formality he upheld only twenty minutes before. Sirius felt warm looking at him, although he told himself it was due to the fire roaring in the living room.
“Mm,” said Remus, looking up at Sirius through heavy-lidded, tired blue eyes. “Do you really think it is a good idea to let him join the Order? He is only fifteen.”
“I think if he wants to fight then he should be able to,” Sirius said. “Not in the front lines, of course. I'm not that crazy,” he continued when he saw that Remus was raising an eyebrow at him. He chuckled. “And I don't think any of us want to be doing that right now anyway. But we owe it to him—to James, to Lilly—to allow him to help out with as much as is safe.”
Remus, to be frank, looked exhausted. Sirius now saw the dark shadows under his eyes and his unkempt hair, rumpled from running his hand through it a hundred times.
“But I don't want to talk about that right now,” Sirius continued and he saw Remus’ eyes flick up to him with a look of relief. “It’s been too much, for far too long.”
“It certainly has.” Remus softly smiled and Sirius wished he could see himself from Remus’ eyes right now. Both were disheveled and nearly falling asleep as they talked, but not wanting to leave the other's company. Sirius watched as Remus dug in his pocket for a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. Remus lit one and slowly drew in his breath, and slowly exhaled out blue-gray smoke that swirled in the air around him.
“Still smoke, eh?” Sirius said with a smirk. “You’re being a bad influence on those kids, Lupin.”
“Want one?” Remus said in a low tone that made Sirius shiver.
“Yeah.” He moved to the other side of the kitchen.
Remus pulled another cigarette from the pack and handed it to Sirius who took it between his index and middle fingers. Remus suddenly grabbed Sirius’ wrist, making Sirius’ breath stop in his throat, and lit the cigarette on the one still in his mouth. Sirius pulled his hand away and Remus gently let go of his wrist. His fingers were long and slender and as smooth as a girl’s. Sirius felt the drag of his little finger along the back of his arm from where it had slipped under the cuff of his sleeve. They were incredibly close now and he saw Remus’ blue eyes, made hazy by the smoke, disappear behind long eyelashes. He could see Remus’ chest rise slowly as he took another drag of his cigarette. If Sirius stepped forward at all, he would be standing between Remus’ legs, breathing the same air. The intimacy of smoking so close to each other and the smell of the cigarettes was making Sirius dizzy and he stepped back sharply so he wouldn't have to grab Remus’ knees if he swayed to one side. Remus looked beautiful in this kitchen. Sirius didn't dare mention it.
The kettle started to whistle.
Sirius was pulled out of his thoughts to find Remus staring at him with a look of quiet adoration.
“Uh—” Sirius choked on the cigarette. “What kind of tea would you like?” What a silly question.
“You know,” Remus said, smirking at him.
“I do.”
Sirius took two mugs from the cabinet and teabags from a small drawer. As he prepared their tea, Sirius could feel Mister Welsh-Brew-Tea-With-Milk's eyes staring at the back of his head. He handed Remus his mug and, goddammit , Remus’ fingertips brushed against Sirius’ again. Sirius sharply drew in a breath and turned away to get his own mug. They drank their tea in what was, for Sirius, a not-so-comfortable silence, alternating sipping and smoking. Sirius’ heartbeat had, with a significant amount of effort, nearly gotten down to a regular rate when Remus spoke again.
“Want to listen to Queen?”
“Yes. You brought vinyls?” Sirius asked, incredulous.
“Of course.”
“Moony, you never fail to disappoint.” Okay, they were doing this now . The old nickname slipped so easily from Sirius’ lips. Remus smiled, much more than he ever had tonight, and put out his cigarette on the edge of the counter. Sirius smiled back and did the same and started into the living room.
* * *
Remus opened a cabinet that had a few vinyls and an old record player. He picked up one, took it out of its sleeve, and gently placed it on the turntable, carefully placing the needle on the edge. Queen started playing softly over the speaker and suddenly they were back at Hogwarts, smoking and eating sweets on Sirius’ bed with the windows open and listening to Queen and David Bowie and T. Rex. Sirius stood in the middle of the living room with his arms crossed and his mug held close to his chest, completely lost in this old world that was now only a vague idea. Sirius had forgotten about Remus’ presence until he was plucking Sirius’ mug from his hands. He placed it gently on a side table and Sirius comically raised both of his eyebrows at him. To Sirius’ utter surprise, Remus took both of his hands in his, pulling him into the middle of the room. Were they dancing? Sirius’ mouth had fallen open in a small ‘o’ as he watched Remus slowly intertwine their fingers. Remus’ nails were nicely manicured, starkly contrasting Sirius’, who had painted his nails black a week ago, before frantically picking off as much of the polish as he could. Remus was the very picture of respectability if it weren't for the red high on his cheeks and quickening breath that Sirius noticed when he finally dared to look up from their hands.
“Remus…” Sirius warned, searching Remus’ face for any explanation of this sudden, intense intimacy.
“Shh, Pads.” There it was. “Just dance with me.”
Sirius scoffed, but he wanted this as much as Remus did. There was no point in fighting it anymore. So, they swayed together, their hands clasped between them.
Let's hope you never leave, old friend.
Like all good things, on you we depend.
“I’m so sorry,” Sirius said suddenly, without knowing why. Tears began to prick his eyes and he bit his lip.
“Hm?"
“For everything.” Sirius looked into Remus’ eyes. “And I won't stop saying it. I’m sorry for leaving you alone and betrayed for twelve years. For fleeing as soon I was with you again. I had to, but I was also so afraid of having a fight that would tear us apart forever. I couldn't fuck our friendship up, but I might as well have.” He paused. “You’ll always be my Moony.” Remus looked startled by that last statement. Maybe that was too brave.
“I would never blame you for doing something to protect yourself, Sirius,” Remus said, placing a gentle hand on Sirius’ neck. Sirius shivered, remembering how he nearly had his arm around Remus at the Order meeting. Remus dropped his hand.
Sirius was beginning to feel dazed again—the lack of sleep, trying to will the tears from his eyes, the soft music flowing through the room, almost being able to taste the cigarettes on Remus’ breath. His trance must've been obvious because Remus pulled him out of it with a soft swipe to the back of his knuckles. Sirius looked up. They were terribly close now and Sirius could see all the details in Remus’ face—the light brown stubble on his chin, the swirling lines in his blue irises, where his skin puckered and discolored around his scars.
Remus brought his hands to Sirius’ forearms, sliding them up to his shoulders. He considered Sirius for a moment before taking his jaw in his hand, leaning forward, and kissing him.
Oh, this is too familiar , Sirius thought as he instinctively brought his hands up to curl in Remus’ hair. Remus’ mouth was the same as ever—all soft lips and tasting of cigarettes and tea. Remus’ stubble brushed his skin as he clung to him. If they were seventeen, Sirius might have grazed Remus’ lips with sharp teeth, but he was afraid of what might happen if he did that now. Remus slowly pulled away, Sirius’ fingers still carding through his wavy hair. To Sirius’ surprise, he started laughing as he rested his forehead against Remus’. His laughter grew louder until he had to cover his mouth with his hand. Sirius threw his head back, beaming, all of the emotions of the evening pouring over him in some weird concoction of love, remorse, and fear.
Radio, what’s new?
Radio, someone still loves you.
“Fuck.” He looked at Remus who was grinning too. “Merlin, we haven't done that since…”
“1981?”
“Wow,” Sirius sighed, looking at Remus’ blushing face and pink lips. “You are still so beautiful.” Remus winked at him and Sirius snorted. “What about me?” he asked.
“What? Do you look beautiful?” Remus eyed Sirius. “In that velvet weskit? Think again,” he laughed.
Sirius looked at Remus, amazed. “I rather like this waistcoat, thank you very much,” he said matter-of-factly.
Remus smiled at him again, so warmly that Sirius thought his heart might melt. He rested his forehead against Remus’ again, closing his eyes. His arms were draped over Remus’ shoulders, one hand holding the back of his head, and Remus’ arms wrapped around Sirius’ waist.
“Why did we ever stop?” Sirius asked softly.
“Dunno,” Remus said regretfully.
Sirius looked down and absentmindedly wetted his lips. “Pretty stupid.”
“You're right about tha—” Remus was cut off by Sirius’ mouth on his.
Sirius’ hands traveled back to Remus’ soft hair, this time pulling him eagerly towards him and Remus’ hands traveled along Sirius’ back. Sirius marveled at how easily they slipped back into their old habits—desperate and longing—although, with the situation at hand it seemed hardly appropriate. Sirius harshly pushed his mouth into Remus’, earning the sounds of his heavy breathing. Remus groaned at the pull of Sirius’ fingers winding in his hair.
“Careful there, Moony,” Sirius teased. “You wouldn't want to wake the kids. I don't think Harry’d be keen to find his old professor snogging his godfather.”
“Shut up, Padfoot.”
That damned name again . Why was it so easy for them to slip into their old banter? Sirius was unsure if to squeal with joy at that or to mourn the decade of their lives lost. Sirius chuckled. It was a light, sad laugh, but, as he smiled at Remus, he felt his eyes filling with tears again. Remus smiled at him, bringing his hands to Sirius’ face and wiping his eyes with his thumbs. Remus’ smile faded as he softly kissed Sirius’ cheekbone. He sniffed and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.
Remus hesitated before he spoke, “Do you want to go to sleep? It’s late.”
“No,” Sirius said immediately.
“Okay,” Remus whispered.
It was suddenly very quiet. The vinyl was transitioning between songs and Sirius could hear their breathing together, here, in the dark, not at all safe, but feeling like home.
Remus took Sirius’ hand and pulled him to the small threadbare sofa. They sat down and Sirius mindlessly kicked off his shoes, pulling his knees up to his chest, and leaned back on the sofa, wrapping his arm around Remus’ shoulders. Somewhere in the distance, a car started up and sped away.
“What’s it like being back here?” Remus asked suddenly.
Sirius held his breath for a moment, before sighing. “It’s difficult,” he said matter-of-factly. “I can’t even go into some of the rooms.” He had been picking at the fabric of the sofa, but he looked up at Remus. He said nothing, but he didn’t need to, Sirius knew exactly what he was thinking—that he felt the same way since he had been coming to Grimmauld even though he had never set foot in the place. Remus looked at Sirius for a moment before bringing his hand up to comb through Sirius’ hair. His curls were soft but tangled and he brushed them back and over to one side, tilting his head to the side to look at his work.
Sirius laughed, secretly thankful for this distraction, as Remus let his hair fall back to its natural position, and asked, “What are you doing?”
“I am playing with your hair,” Remus said as he twisted a strand of Sirius’ hair around his finger. “I can stop if you like.” He dropped his hands.
“No,” Sirius said, “that's okay.”
Remus chuckled and continued combing his fingers through Sirius’ hair. As Remus worked, Sirius felt his body relax in a way that it hadn’t in years. He felt his shoulders un-tense and it must have been noticeable because Remus smiled at him and brought his other hand up to massage Sirius’ scalp. Sirius’ eyes fluttered shut as he relaxed into Remus’ touch—thumbs pressing small circles into his temples and middle fingers pulling down the nape of his neck. Remus’ hands were the only thing Sirius could focus on, grounding him.
“Don't fall asleep on me, Pads,” Remus said jokingly. “Especially right after you said you didn't want to go to sleep yet.” Sirius opened his eyes and sat up straighter from where he had begun to lean on Remus.
“Oh. Sorry.”
“Mm, it’s okay,” Remus gently smiled. “You looked peaceful.”
“I was,” Sirius said softly. A beat. “Can I kiss you again?”
Remus grinned, “Of course.”
Remus pulled Sirius to him with his hands on the back of his neck. This kiss was tender and warm. It felt languid like the summer days spent at the Potter’s when they would all be at the seaside, the sun beaming down on them, and Sirius and Remus would run off to lay in the sand and press soft kisses to each other's skin. Sirius breathed deep Remus’ cigarette scent as their lips glided over one another. He wrapped his free arm around Remus’ waist, desperate to get as close to him as possible. Remus broke the kiss to say something but apparently thought better of it because he pulled Sirius back in almost instantly.
By this point, Sirius had practically climbed into Remus’ lap. He realized this and slowed his movements on Remus’ mouth, not wanting to ruin their current position. His back was against Remus’ chest, their legs intertwined in front of them, and Remus brought a protective arm around Sirius. He kissed the top of Sirius’ fluffy curls, resting his cheek there as Sirius sighed and sunk further into Remus’ touch, clutching the arm that had been wrapped around him. This was the sort of intimacy that Sirius had missed. They had always been cuddly, and now that they were finally able to touch,— Gods, just touch !—Sirius wanted to weep with happiness. They stayed like that for a while, until Sirius felt himself dozing off again.
“Wow, I’m really tired,” Sirius said, forcing his eyes open and blinking.
“Yeah, me too,” Remus sighed.
Sirius was silent for a moment, calculating if his next move would be worth it.
“I mean…” he started, “we could always go to sleep together,” he finished with a swallow. “In the literal sense!” he retorted when he felt Remus start laughing against him. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Moony!”
“Yes,” Remus whispered against Sirius’ neck, still a hint of a smile in his voice, “yes, that sounds incredible.”
* * *
Sirius led Remus by the hand through the dark, narrow corridors of the house. Sirius felt like he was back at Hogwarts again, he and Remus as horny teenagers sneaking through the passageways to their favorite make-out spots, not wanting to be caught by the Gryffindor prefects. Sirius winced at every stair that squeaked as they slowly made their way upstairs. On the landing, they found Crookshanks standing guard outside the trio’s room, he meowed loudly.
“Shut up,” Sirius whisper-screamed.
They made their way down the hall and stopped at Remus’ room.
“Wait,” Remus whispered, “let me get my pajamas.”
“Okay,” Sirius said softly and continued to his room.
Sirius’ room wasn’t much but it was a right state better than what he was used to. A bed on top of an old, dusty rug with a small end table on one side of it. There was a desk, a lamp (that barely worked), and a window on the adjoining wall as well as a closet that was barely big enough to store linens. As Sirius changed into his pajamas, he thought about how, if it had been fourteen years ago his heart would have been fluttering at the thought of having Remus Lupin in his bed, but now he was perfectly calm. Remus had a disarming quality about him that Sirius had been hyper-aware of ever since he had been coming to Order meetings and Sirius found himself sneaking glances at him like some love-stricken virgin. Remus knocked lightly on his door and Sirius made an affirming noise. Remus made his way over to where Sirius was sitting on the edge of his bed, leaning down to kiss the top of Sirius’ head, and climbing around him into bed and under the covers. Sirius slid in next to him, wrapping his arm around him, and nuzzling his head in the space below his chin. Remus petted his hair and wrapped an arm around his middle. It was unbelievably warm with Remus next to him, a feeling which flowed both inside and outside Sirius. What did I do to deserve this coming back to me , he thought.
“Every other moment I’ve spent in this house—” Sirius’ voice was low and it vibrated in his chest—“I’ve felt so alone, exiled from everything, including myself.” He tried to cuddle even closer to Remus. “You have been the only person able to relinquish that feeling.”
“Oh, Padfoot.” Remus tilted Sirius' head up to look at him and kissed him, slow and soft, as if to say thank you or, I feel exactly the same way . “I’m sorry for asking what it’s like to be back here. Obviously, it’s been shit.”
Sirius snorted. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not,” said Remus, with a suddenly intense look on his face. “To me, it’s not. Because you desperately need to rest and not have to think about these things. All this nostalgia isn’t good for any of us.”
“Some of this nostalgia is good for us, Moony,” Sirius said knowingly, craning his neck up to kiss Remus, as he lightly held Sirius’ jaw and gently ran his hand up and down Sirius’ back.
“I think you might be right about that,” Remus said, eyeing Sirius.
“Of course I am,” Sirius smiled. “Goodnight, Moony.”
“Goodnight, Padfoot.” Remus gave Sirius one final kiss on the forehead.
They fell asleep with Sirius’ lips pressed against Remus’ cheek and their legs tangled beneath them.