Chapter 6
Present Day:
Sirius had taken the couch that night, which he was fine with, he tried to maintain. It made sense, the storm had passed, and it wasn’t as if things were good enough between him and Remus to justify Sirius asking to sleep with him at night. Remus had let him once out of pity, but he certainly wouldn’t allow it again just as a favor. Just because Sirius really wanted him to. Not after everything that Sirius had done to him. So Sirius told himself that sleeping on the couch so far away from Remus’s arms was fine. Because it was. It was good enough because it was still within Moony's cottage and he was still allowed to stay there.
Even if he desperately wished that he could fall asleep in Remus’s arms instead.
He transformed into Padfoot and buried himself in the couch cushions until was able to convince himself that someday, with enough work and apologizing, he might get that luxury back.
When he woke up, late morning, Sirius was surprised to see a neat stack of folded clothes laid out on the table in front of him. A note placed on top clearly from Remus.
‘I’ve gone out to the shops. Breakfast is on the counter whenever you want it. - Moony’ in scrawled black ink, as if it was written in a bit of a rush, possibly as Remus was heading out. Sirius’s heart tugged something wonderful at that. That Remus had left him a note. Because he wanted Sirius to know where he’d gone.
And he’d signed it with his old nickname. Not simply Remus, but Moony. His Moony (although Remus hadn’t specified that part necessarily). Sirius found himself near swooning as he processed that he’d made him breakfast again. That it wasn’t just a one time thing. Not to mention that Remus had picked Sirius out a change of clothes for the morning without Sirius having to ask. He had really thought that he would have to ask. Had already been bracing himself for those awkward conversations.
And sure, maybe Remus had left partially to avoid him—had too much of Sirius the day before and decided to escape him as much as he could today. But he had still been thoughtful enough to make sure that Sirius would have everything he needed for the day before he left, and that took away the sting of the possible evasion almost completely.
Eager to see what clothes Remus had picked out for him, Sirius carefully put the note to the side (because he wanted to save it) and examined the stack more closely.
One of Sirius’s old crop tops—a black band tee with gray and white letters that Sirius had taken a pair of scissors to so that it ended right around his ribs, one of his absolute favorite miniskirts that he was surprised Remus even had—a gray pleated one with a small split up the side made of incredibly comfortable fabric—and a dark cranberry colored cardigan of Moony’s with a pair of socks laid on top. Thick dark red ones that were soft to the touch and even softer when Sirius immediately slipped them onto his bare feet.
He felt a wide and uncontrollable smile creep into his face at Remus letting him wear his clothes again. Not just yesterday or the day before when he might’ve been picking things out in a rush, but today too. When he was picking things out intentionally for Sirius. Remus hadn’t just grabbed some of Sirius’s old clothes for him to wear, but some of his too. His cardigan, his comfy socks. Because he thought Sirius might like them.
Remus really must’ve meant it when he’d said that he didn’t hate him last night, because he clearly wouldn’t be letting Sirius wear his clothes if he did. Maybe Sirius could build off of that, maybe get Remus to like him again, enough to be his friend at the very least. Even if he never forgave him.
Although Sirius couldn’t hold himself back from fantasizing what it would be like if Remus did let him be more again. If he held him and let him wear his sweaters and gave him kisses at random times of the day and told him just how pretty he thought he looked in his outfits.If he said ‘go on then, twirl, love’ when Sirius brought back a new dress. Tried it on for Remus all excitedly and hoped that his Moons would like it as much as he did. Told Sirius he was ‘the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen darlin’ and pulled Sirius in by scooping him up under his thighs with his strong arms and kissed him like he loved him more than anything in the world then set him back down again like he expected Sirius to walk after that.
If he let Sirius call him Moons again without wincing whenever the word came out of his mouth. Went to the store even though he didn’t want to because Sirius was out of the coffee he liked then came back with ice cream too because ‘you deserve it baby’, not even a little bothered by having to go out of his way anymore when Sirius sucked him off in thanks.
What if instead of stilted and awkward conversations where they never really talked about anything important Remus would listen to him ramble again and tell Sirius he could never be annoying to him—which was so clearly false because he found Sirius annoying now—but Sirius had believed so wholeheartedly when Remus had told him it in school.
What if Remus loved him again like Sirius so relentlessly loved him still? Because Sirius had never stopped loving Remus. Not for a second. He didn’t think he ever could. And everything in him wished and hoped and prayed that Remus felt even a little bit the same.
. . .
Hogwarts, Seventh Year:
It was the first day back after winter break and Sirius had truly had a horrible Christmas. Agreeing to go back to Grimmauld place for a single day for Regulus—who had been begging him to give them another chance for months, saying ‘I know they’re horrible Siri, but please, do it for me? For Christmas?’ And tearing up telling him how much he missed him—suffice it to say that it had not ended well. As in 12 new injuries and half a dozen crucios not well. He had gotten all of ten minutes to bond with Regulus and exchange gifts before his cousin Bellatrix had found him and brought him straight to his parents for torture time.
James had fussed over his injuries on the train, both him and Peter insistly asking him why he had even gone back in the first place. Peter then went on and on about how awful Regulus was for letting it all happen—which might’ve been okay if Sirius had said it, but definitely wasn’t when Peter did. Both of them, all around being unhelpful.
Depleted and in an especially sour mood thanks to his holiday and the train ride there, the first thing Sirius did when he got back to the dorm was lock himself in the closet to escape their incessant prattling. He couldn’t deal with James fussing over him, or Peter with his endless criticism. And he had been in there for all of twenty minutes when there was some worried knocking at the door that he knew was James.
“Pads?” So it was James, Sirius noted, “Pads, what are you doin’, can you come out? Or can I come in? Just to see if you’re okay? You don’t seem like you’re okay.” His friend sounded concerned. And Sirius wasn’t mad at him, not really, but he sure as hell didn’t want to talk to him either.
He remained silent.
James tried again maybe ten minutes later, this time with Peter as well. Peter apologized somewhat insincerely for upsetting him on the train, which Sirius didn't really care for—he had no right to shit talk his brother— and James, once again, asked to be let in.
“Pads, you could’ve come to mine for Christmas. Mum had a stocking for you and everything. You didn’t have to go back to them,” James tried once more. Sirius scoffed and told him to fuck off. Although secretly he felt pretty guilty that Mrs. Potter had gone to all that trouble for him and he hadn’t even shown up. Sirius felt himself breaking into tears, and he really hadn’t wanted that to happen.
“Please, just-” Sirius sniffled through the door, “go away James. ‘M sorry about missing Christmas okay? But please go away.”
He heard James sigh then heard a pair of approaching footsteps, saw the extra shadows under the door. There was some whispering that Sirius couldn’t quite make out. He really hoped it wasn’t Pete again.
“Alright, Pads. I will,” James agreed very reluctantly. Sirius heard some shuffling noises. “But what about Moony, can he come in?” Sirius didn’t even have to think about it, jumped to stand up and unlocked the door, winced when he put weight on his bad leg then sat back down. He took a shaky breath that he thought would steady himself but didn’t end up doing so at all.
“M-Moony can come in.” Sirius decided tearily. Because maybe he didn’t want to talk to anyone but he always wanted to talk to his Moons.
Softly, and slowly so as not to startle him, the door creaked open. Just enough for Remus to slip through and then it was gently closed. The second Sirius saw the outline of Remus’s figure he felt an immense weight drop off of his shoulders. So much of his anger faded and it left him embarrassed and weak. Sad, but so happy now that he got to see his Moony. It was confusing, and Sirius found himself crying more.
“Hey, darling,” He heard Remus’s steady but gentle voice call out. Felt him sit down beside him then fix him comfortably on his lap, his large hands keeping him anchored there. Sirius sobbed into his chest and Remus ran his hand soothingly up and down his back. The touch was firm, tender, and enough to coax Sirius into hiccups, sniffles, and occasional whimpers instead of full on sobs. Remus was good at that, knowing when not to talk, giving Sirius time to sort himself out without any kind of judgment.
Sirius tried his best to get himself to breathe normally again, tested out doing so a couple of times, although it was shaky.
“That’s it, love,” Remus cooed proudly at him, brought the hand that wasn’t rubbing Sirius’s back to work its way through Sirius’s hair, massaging his head while he was at it. “Keep breathing for me.”
Sirius buried his face in Remus’s neck, wanting to smell him, because Moony always smelled so good. Like black coffee and old books and sitting by the fireplace getting cuddles. He hiccuped a bit but was able to keep breathing, a few tears still staining his cheeks.
“Doing so well, Pads,” Sirius heard when his breaths started getting slightly steadier, and he looked up immediately, because praise really did a number on him when he was all fragile and unsteady.
“R-really, Moons?” Sirius blinked the last of the wetness away from his eyes. He could just barely see Remus in this lighting and he bit his lip in anticipation because he couldn’t see his expression. Thought, please say yes.
He felt a warm hand come to cradle the side of his face, a thumb smoothing over his cheek, wiping away any wetness that still lingered there, soft lips coming to meet his forehead and press a kiss to it.
“Yeah, love, you’re doing such a good job,” Remus answered, tender and honest and just as much so as he added, “you always do for me.” Sirius wrapped his arms tight around his boyfriend and eased himself into his safe and caring chest. Let himself be held and was almost able to relax completely.
“I missed Christmas,” he scolded himself when the guilt crept back up. Remus squeezed him around his torso and Sirius felt warm. Loved like he hadn’t on Christmas. Loved in a way he only really felt to this extent with Remus. And so, so safe.
“You didn’t darling, you just spent it somewhere else,” Remus soothed but Sirius shook his head.
“No, Moons, at Jamie’s. His mom got out a stocking for me and I didn’t even show up. She probably filled it all up and everything and I was at Grimmauld trying to be there for Reg-” Sirius’s voice broke and he leaned more heavily into Remus’s chest. “B-but I didn’t even get-” He felt himself starting to tear up again. Wanted to stop it but couldn’t. “-get to do that,” Remus shushed him gently, started rubbing his back again although Sirius hadn’t even realized that he’d stopped. “T-they got- to me ‘fore I could.” He confessed miserably.
“Sirius-” Remus noticeably lightened his grip on him, holding Sirius more gently. Sirius nuzzled in deeper and tried to act like that, in itself, didn’t hurt.
“Re- please,” he didn’t even know what he was asking for. Please don’t stop holding him, please don’t fuss over him like James had, please don’t hate him for what he did and didn’t do over Christmas. Maybe all of them. But Sirius asked for the easiest of the three. “Please don’t fuss over me just cuz they-” but he didn’t get to finish. Remus cut in before he could.
“How badly did they hurt you?” His voice was still gentle, but gentle in a way that let you know he wasn’t messing around. That he’d get harsher if he needed to. But he wouldn’t with Sirius. Never enough to hurt him.
“Just the usual,” Sirius tried to brush it off. Really didn’t want to talk about it, but Remus did and he would for his Moony. “Some curses and punches. Nothing I can’t take.”
“Love, you shouldn’t have to take it.” Remus sounded so heartbroken when he spoke, then soft but authoritative when he continued. “Any of it. You’ve never deserved to. So you’re never going back to that house again. I don’t care what Regulus or anyone else has to say about it, alright? I’m not having you get hurt like this again.”
Sirius’s breath hitched at the care with which Remus said every word. The finality in him deciding that Sirius simply wasn’t going back. That it wasn’t up for debate and he had the final word on it. And it didn’t sound like judgment at all, or any sort of scolding. Just protection. Comfort and safety.
But Sirius still felt compelled to defend his brother. He always did.
“Reg deserved to have a good Christmas,” he all but whispered into the softness of Remus’s sweater—warm like Remus was warm. Sirius managed to keep in most of a sniffle.
“I know, baby,” Remus answered, understanding and steady. “But you did too.”
. . .
Present Day:
When Remus got back with groceries Sirius was waiting for him in the kitchen. Dressed in the outfit Remus had picked out for him and having eaten his prepared meal—chocolate chip pancakes (what Remus always made when he was running out of things, because he always had chocolate and pancakes required few ingredients)—Sirius was standing in front of his own meal that he had specially cooked for Remus.
Sirius wasn’t the best cook—Remus was definitely better—but he had wanted to do something nice for Remus, to properly say thank you for everything his Moony had done for him. Especially now that Remus wasn’t letting him verbally say thank you. (Or maybe he was but not too often, Sirius wasn’t clear on the rules). So he had made Remus one of his favorite meals, gotten the ingredients from a neighbor (Ms. Glinda from down the street was very nice), and now had a freshly baked apple breakfast cake and a plate piled high with bacon.
Remus came in with two armfuls of bags and Sirius rushed to help him with them but Remus shook his head and didn’t let him.
“No Pads, I’ve got it,” Remus dismissed as he moved past him, “Morning by the way.” He had already gotten to the kitchen by the time Sirius remembered that he didn’t want him to go in there. His surprise was there.
“Wait- don’t-” Sirius called after him, but it was already too late.
“What’s all this?”
“-go in there,” he lamely finished, following in after Remus thinking he could probably still salvage the surprise. Even though the surprise factor was ruined.
“I, um- made you breakfast,” Sirius admitted, although he had no idea why he was so bashful about it. “It’s late, and not really breakfast time anymore, but I didn’t know when you’d be back, so-” Remus looked genuinely taken aback, probably trying to do the mental math of how Sirius had made all of this with exactly one box of crackers, some teabags, and a thing of leftover pizza to work with.
“Pads- you didn’t have to,” Remus put aside the groceries for a minute and moved closer to Sirius. “But, how?”
“You have a very generous neighbor,” Sirius explained, stepping closer to Remus in reciprocation. “One who believes in grand romantic gestures.” He emphasized, and maybe he shouldn’t have but Sirius missed him and he was tired of waiting. “Sorry I didn’t get candles and balloons.”
Remus smiled slightly sadly, and he looked like he found it endearing but didn’t want to. Or at least that was what Sirius hoped he looked like. Because finding it endearing would mean he liked it and wasn’t repelled by it. Sirius was still kind of worried that he would be repelled by it.
“Love, I think it’s best you didn’t. But thanks for putting in all this effort.” Remus responded, putting some groceries in the fridge and pointedly not letting Sirius help. And Sirius wasn’t sure that it was a good answer, but Remus had also called him ‘love’, so maybe he was letting him down easy.
“Can I help put away groceries then?” Sirius tried to redeem himself. He didn’t think that Remus should have to be putting them all away himself. “Since I didn’t really nail breakfast…” Remus sighed, but looked like he might be close to relenting. Not that Sirius would be able to tell if he was with his luck.
“No, Sirius, you-” he pressed his mouth into a flat line. “You did nail breakfast. I’m sorry. I just didn’t expect this when I came home. And if you really want to, you can take a bag.” Remus paused, screwed his face up like he wasn’t thrilled that he’d said everything the way he did, wincing at it, and Sirius didn’t know what to make of that. Only that it didn’t feel good. That it took all the good things that he’d just said and made it seem like he didn’t mean them—or didn’t want to, and Sirius didn’t know which was worse. He took a bag though, and started to put things away in the pantry so as not to get too much in Remus’s way. He had probably done enough of that already.
“You don’t have to eat it, Re, if it’s too much,” Sirius found himself saying. “I won’t get my feelings hurt. I’d get it.” Except that part was a lie. He would get his feelings hurt. But he’d try extra hard to make it seem like he hadn’t for Remus so that he didn’t have to burden Remus with that. And secretly he still really wanted Remus to eat the breakfast that he’d made for him anyway. To like it so that Sirius could do something—anything for him in return. Because Remus had done more for him than he could ever repay and he wanted to start now.
Remus looked at him, really looked at him for what felt like hours but was likely barely under half a minute, seeming to be deep in thought, but didn’t outwardly say anything. It set Sirius on edge the longer it went on. Then Remus shoved the rest of the groceries into the fridge in a blur of movement and tossed the bags in the closet, walking back to Sirius after he did.
“That you think for a second that I would let all this go to waste…” Remus gestured towards the food that was still sitting on the counter waiting to be eaten. “C’mon Sirius, it’s nearly lunch, you should have some too.”
Sirius really hoped that Remus wasn’t just eating what he had gone to all that trouble— that was really no trouble at all if it made his Moonyhappy—to make just because he didn’t want food to go to waste. Because Remus would do that, with his waste not want not mentality. But maybe Sirius was being too greedy in wanting that. Maybe he should just accept that Remus was eating it, was letting him help, and for once, let that be enough.
. . .
“I’m wearing the outfit you picked out for me,” Sirius inserted when a silence fell between them that he felt an unexplainable urge to fill. Remus looked up from his food, which he liked, saying, ‘It’s good Pads’ when Sirius had asked what he’d thought of it. Which was something. Which was everything, really.
“You are,” Remus acknowledged, and Sirius had no idea why he’d even pointed it out in the first place. It was obvious, and Remus had eyes, he could see it easily enough on his own, but Sirius didn’t want them to fall into silence again. He liked the sound of Moony's voice, so he elaborated on it. Knew he needed to anyway because Remus had gone to all that trouble to set the clothes out for him.
“I- thank you for setting them out for me Moons. For, um, finding them in the first place cuz I know you probably didn’t have them just sitting out on the shelf all ready to go. And for lettin’ me wear your sweaters. Still. After everything. I didn’t even know you still had this skirt Re, I almost forgot that it was one of my favorites. So, yeah, it just- it meant a lot. And um, thank you.” Sirius realized belatedly that that was probably too much to say all at once. Too much like his breakfast, because Remus had been considerate but kept it simple. Appropriate. And Sirius just had to go for the grand romantic gesture. (And believe it or not, that had been the dialed down version of his plan. He had wanted to make all of Remus’s meals for a week. But he wasn’t that good of a cook and he doubted that he would have the time to, so he went with this.)
But Remus had gone and accepted it anyway. Sirius’s too much. Even if he kind of didn’t want to. Because Remus always had, even now when Sirius was doing the opposite of leaving him alone and talking more than he should about things he wasn’t even supposed to talk about in the first place. Only now remembering that Remus had told him to stop over-thanking him for things.
He expected Remus to be ticked off because of that. Because Sirius couldn’t follow the simplest of directions. But instead he chuckled good-naturedly like he was charmed by it.
“You’re welcome, Pads, but leaving you clothes? You don’t have to thank me for that. That was common decency.” Remus took another mouthful of his apple cake and swallowed it with an appreciative groan. “And I’m glad you like wearing my sweaters so much, because until I can get you to the shops for some more clothes of your own, I’m afraid you're gonna have to keep wearing them. I only have three or so of your tops and one of ‘em’s this bejeweled bra thing…? Sirus I don’t think that even qualifies as a shirt. Got no fuckin’ clue why I still have it.”
“MY DIAMOND BRALETTE TOP!” Sirius exclaimed, distracted. “I wore that for my birthday, and I thought I’d lost it! Thought it fell off at the club or something. Moons you have it?!” Remus nodded plainly. A silent ‘that’s what I said wasn’t it?’
“How do you have it?!” Sirius pressed excitedly. He had loved that top, been so sad when he thought that he’d lost it. Remus took a hefty swallow from his glass of water, like he was gearing up for a story. Sirius hoped he would get one.
“You know when you were doin’ karaoke?” Sirius nodded, made a ‘mhm’ noise, because he didn’t want to interrupt whatever his Moons was about to tell him. “Yeah well you were drinkin’ and you started doing this strip tease, and it was shitty, Pads, cuz you were all drunk,” Remus smiled like he was enjoying telling the story. “And you threw it off and it went under the couch but I knew you’d be all upset about it if you left it there so when you weren’t looking I picked it back up.” He shrugged like it was nothing, just something he did without thinking, but to Sirius it didn’t feel like nothing.
“You-” Sirius found himself a little taken aback. “You did that for me?” Remus was always thoughtful like that. In small ways. The small ways that really weren’t so small when you added them all up.
Remus simply shrugged again. Like he earnestly thought it to be inconsequential, him doing little things for Sirius just to make him happy. Just because he felt like it. As easy as breathing and more reliable than ever. Remus had always been that way.
Sirius cursed himself a thousand times over for breaking this man’s heart. And suddenly his reason for doing so didn’t even feel like a good one anymore. So before he could change his mind Sirius found himself laying it all out on the line.
“Re, the reason I left- it was never anything you did. Never because I didn’t love you. It’s because-” he hesitated, not sure if he should really say, but at this point was so deep into it that it was too late to back out. “Moons, I’m a vampire.”