How to be Human

If magic existed, Remus was absolutely positive that Sirius would be its creator and wielder. That green and red sparks would blast from his fingertips in sparkles and fire, twisting and vining around in beautiful lights that were so Sirius. That the stars themselves would bend at his will, that plants and animals would whisper the worlds secrets directly into his ear, that people’s lives would magnificently improve just because Sirius looked at them. 

That night, when Remus was so seen under those icy eyes that he felt compelled to fall to his desires and just ask- no, beg Sirius to kiss him, everything seemed to make sense. Remus was always in a constant state of exhaustion and then there he was, this boy, ready and willing to lift all that off his chest and toss it into the air to explode into stars. To take his hurt and morph it into something beautiful. To silence those deafening thoughts with his mouth and swallow it into his own, to dissolve in his stomach with all those butterflies. 

Sirius was magic. 

And Remus felt it transfer from his lips and tingle its way across his skin, kissing every little cell, sinking and seeping into his blood, riding his veins to every part of his body until he was utterly enchanted. 

That night, and for the rest of those two weeks, they lay under the sky with the grass pecking their skin. The blue mass above seemed to bend at their will, turning and tilting down until it was just them under a dome of stars. They whispered secrets between soft kisses as their eyelids hung low with the weight of it was always meant to be us. They giggled, pure and childlike, into the air as the wind tickled their cheeks and the July fireflies danced slowly above them. They slept in each other’s comfort below the moon and below the stars, terrifyingly absorbed by the way they fit so perfectly. 

When school began, the train ride was spent, fingers locked, eyes on the window outside, watching as their perfect, hazy summer turned to a cool, autumn embrace. All their fears of things changing were thrown out the window when their friends beamed at the sight of them so happy and so them, more so than ever before. 

It all just made sense. 

It was always meant to be. 

Often Sirius was afraid to even let Remus go for fear that he’d just dissolve into the air around him. Or he’d wake up and feel the body beside him and let out such a heavy breath of relief that it wasn’t all some foolish dream. 

Remus was his. 

He was Remus’.

When Christmas hinted the air with peppermint and tinsel, Sirius pulled Remus up to the Astronomy Tower during dinner, just after the sky had gone dark. He’d been debating confessing something to Remus since he met him really, but then it was time. So he pushed out his nerves, swallowed his fears, and told Remus that he loved him. 

That he was in love with him.

And that he knew Remus was figuring it all out and that he was still learning and he didn’t expect him to say it back. Or even feel it. Sirius was perfectly happy with the way things were. He could see, talk to, feel, and taste Remus whenever he wished and he’d feel like a selfish man to hope for anything more. It was perfect the way it was. 

He just wanted Remus to know because Remus deserved all the love in the world. 

Remus didn’t say it back. 

He tried his best to explain that he wasn’t even sure if he was capable of love, or knowing what it felt like. He could feel Sirius’ love, he knew what that felt like. But in his own heart, from his own hands, Remus just wasn’t sure. What he was sure of, though, was that if he was going to love anyone in the world, it would Sirius. 

Remus would try and learn and figure out what it meant to love someone. What it meant to love Sirius because he was so sure he did, he just needed a way to show and say it the way that Sirius deserved. 

So, they floated happily through their last year at The Hogwarts Academy holding on so tightly to each other. Their lips became so familiar with one another that it felt like coming home every time they touched. 

Sometime after his birthday, but before May, Remus sat across from Sirius at dinner. He’d been staring, watching him eat, talk, laugh. He felt the magic in everything Sirius did. Felt it all over his body, buried so deeply in the vessels of his heart. He hadn’t felt anything so much before. 

Before Sirius, he was sure he hadn’t felt anything at all. 

Then there he was, with his inky hair, and sapphire eyes, and slender fingers, and honey words. He took him and slowly but surely wrung him of all those bad thoughts, bad emotions. He made him feel things he didn’t understand and was sure wasn’t possible. He listened even when Remus was unable to speak. He heard him when he couldn’t even hear himself. 

He dug him from the grave he buried himself in, using all the soil to plant something beautiful. Then suddenly, they were in a forest of all the little things Sirius had taught him. 

How to smile and how to laugh. How to joke.

How to talk even when it was hard.

How to hear himself and how to hear others. 

How to show and to say what he felt.

How to understand and identify his own emotions. 

How to hold someone. How to be held.

How to kiss.

How to love. 

Sirius had shown Remus how to be human. 

And the summer after Remus Lupin turned 18, he fell in love with Sirius.