DAY THREE
“Pass the marmalade, would you?”
James pointed at the orange jar on the table in front of Remus.
Remus reached over his half-eaten plate of eggs and toast to pick it up, but paused when he felt a gentle, warm weight against his thigh. He glanced down at the bench to see Sirius’s leg grazing his own.
He looked up at the boy beside him with a heated face, and found a matching one. Padfoot shot him a blushing smile, but didn’t move his leg.
“Marmalade? Moony?” James quirked a brow.
Remus started, clearing his throat as his body lurched forward suddenly to hand the spread to Prongs.
“Right, sorry.”
He risked another glance at Sirius and found the same silver eyes searing blistering burns into his skin.
He averted his gaze, feeling lightheaded and a little bit queasy. The point of contact between their flush thighs was enough to make him feel his breakfast beginning to resurface, and Remus placed his hand on the bench to support himself up.
“So, detention?” Peter asked in amusement, as he fished through his cereal for clumps of undissolved sugar crystals.
The soon-to-be punished pair groaned in unison, and Sirius dropped his head on the table, narrowly missing his plate of pancakes. James snorted without a trace of pity.
“I’m still fucking pissed about that, by the way. You’re not off the hook, just because I’ve stopped scolding you,” Moony glared at the black haired man. Frustration built up in him at the small smile that crossed the other’s face. “I’m serious! Why on earth-!” The boy grinned maliciously at him, and Remus narrowed his eyes instantly, sensing the approaching joke. “Don’t you fucking dare-”
“-No, I’m Sirius!”
The werewolf snatched a napkin off the table and threw it at the boy beside him. It was fruitless, however, as the soft paper caught in the air and floated easily down onto the floor in a neat little pile.
Sirius threw his head back in laughter and his hand flew down onto the bench beside the embarrassed Remus’s, as he keeled over the table.
Remus, exasperated beyond his wit, groaned, his throat hoarse from his rapidly worsening illness. His pitiful groan was turned into a surprised choke however, as a cool, pale pinky finger linked over his own. He cleared his throat, entirely aware of the fuzzy, warm, sparks that ignited at the point where Sirius’s skin met and enveloped his own.
But much too soon, the ambrosial feeling curdled into a sour, bitter mess as the ever-present, unquenchable craving stirred inside him for more. ‘More’ that was always just out of reach.
Remus untangled his finger, his hand still tingling with pins and needles from the touch.
He didn’t look at the boy beside him as he curled his hand into a fist and jammed it in his coat pocket.
As if summoned to make Remus feel worse, a cough crawled its way up, glowing red as though straight out from a furnace, and ruthlessly rubbed salt onto the already bloody and raw wound which lay snugly in his heart.
He patted his pocket for his purse.
It wasn’t there.
Shit.
The cough pummelled out, unstoppable, but he managed to catch it in his hand, feeling the waxy flowers collide and press against his palm. He counted three of them.
As usual with the past few days, Remus was left staring helplessly at the familiar face of Death, who waved cordially back. Mortality was crumbling and caving down on him like a landslide, held up only by feeble brushes of hands and delicate, borrowed glances at the boy he was about to die at the hands of.
Remus folded in on himself slightly, the weight of the cruel reminder nailed firmly onto his already weakening shoulders.
He stuffed the collection of dainty, white flowers into his trouser pocket, patting it down to flatten them.
“Storing your coughs for later?”
The wolf’s head snapped up to James so quickly he almost gave himself whiplash, and the man looked back at him in levity.
Prongs chortled and shook his head. Remus blinked.
An anxiety-filled exhalation- that was supposed to resemble a laugh, though was a truly pitiful attempt- left Moony's mouth, as he scratched the loose, small curls at the base of his head.
“I think it’s my cold getting worse,” he said, in hopes of redirecting the frightening conversation. He supplied the jury with evidence in the form of a sneeze.
“I thought you went to Madam Pomfrey?” Sirius said from beside him, making him turn all too eagerly to see him, feeling like he’d been caught stealing. The man’s face was set with concerned creases and his eyebrows were knitted together. He stared into Remus’s soul as though he’d be able to see the truth.
Remus wanted to smooth his thumb over the worry lines, getting them back to normal. He didn’t, of course.
“I did go,” he replied with what he hoped looked like a casual shrug. Though, his tense shoulders didn’t give him much hope. “But I only took a pain-relieving potion thing-”
“Pain?! Are you in pain, Remus?” Sirius cried in distress, frown deepening as he leant forward. Remus grimaced.
That can of worms will be staying firmly closed.
“Bad phrasing on my part,” he winced. “It’s a discomfort reliever more of. Just to, you know, relieve my discomfort. Discomfort from my… cold. It’s- uh- a rather nasty one.”
He cringed at himself.
Grey eyes looked at him, thoroughly unconvinced but didn’t push the subject further. He frowned at his pancakes and pushed them around uninterestedly, through the pools of syrup on his plate.
Suddenly, Remus felt horrible. He wanted to hold Sirius in his arms and tell him everything if it just made him smile.
But Remus John Lupin was nothing if not obstinate and secretive, so, instead, he turned to his own breakfast and stared at it in a stubborn resignation.
Sirius drained the dregs of his cold tea and stood up.
“I’m gonna head back to the dorm to get ready,” he looked down at the boy beside him, a heat flickering behind his eyes.
Remus swallowed as his mouth went dry, looking up through his lashes, and he felt his face warm. Sirius pinked at the cheeks and cleared his throat lightly.
“‘Get ready’? What do you mean ‘get ready’? You have detention,” James scrutinised, and he squinted his eyes at his best friend, seeming to read him like a book. “What are you planning?”
Sirius grinned. “Planning! You’re so quick to accuse me! I only need to brush my hair, grab a couple Dungbombs, get my bag-”
“Sirius Black, you are not getting nor using any Dungbombs today. Unless you plan on getting another detention,” Remus scolded, appalled.
“I would do it secretly! Just sneak a couple hidden into the potions lab or something-!”
“They would know it was you!” He massaged his temples, patience running thin. “Who else would have been able to put fucking Dungbombs in the potions lab!”
Padfoot paused and tilted his head.
“I guess you’re right.”
Remus huffed and threw his arms out in disbelief.
“I’m only winding you up, Moony. You’re pretty when you’re mad.” Sirius wiggled his eyebrows. James snorted and high-fived him.
The unfairly humiliated man hid his red face in his hands.
“Well, you’re actually pretty always.”
He could practically hear the grin, and whined pathetically into his palms.
“Oh, Pads, you’ve broken him,” Potter sighed and pouted, petting Remus’s head from across the table.
“Oh, damn! You’re right, Prongs. I guess I’ll just have to carry him to detention,” Sirius said. He poked the boy in question’s shoulder. “Princess or piggy-back?”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Remus shot up his head to warn. He scowled and stood up begrudgingly. “I’ll come with you to the dorms. I need to convince myself that you won’t sneak any Dungbombs.”
The shorter boy shrugged and offered his arm.
“We’re not linking arms. It’s a fire hazard.”
“Oh, but Moony, you’ll break his heart!” James cried out in melodrama, fanning himself.
“Then I’ll be sure to clean up the shards. That’s a health hazard.”
* * * * * *
Remus was walking with Sirius down the halls in silence when they passed a group of idly chatting Ravenclaws. He waved politely in greeting, recognising a few of them.
A brunette with an elegant up-do and cat-eye glasses broke away from the group and strode towards the pair, smiling.
“Hello Remus!” she said jovially, pointedly ignoring the other man in favour of gleaming boldly at her friend.
“Hey Berdy, how’re you?” Remus asked courteously, glancing to his side.
The man’s pale face had turned stony as he scowled at the Ravenclaw. Mouth in a tight line.
“I’m perfectly well, Remus! You’re so kind for asking,” she smiled, revealing a neat, white row of teeth. “I had a question,” her eyes darted to Sirius and her face dropped slightly, irritation surfacing. “If I could steal you away for a moment,” she said, looking directly at the glaring man this time.
Sirius sneered, crossing his arms. “You can say it here. It’ll probably get back to me anyway.” He raised his chin haughtily and stepped closer to his companion.
Remus looked at him, gaping in surprise. “Sirius-”
Berdy cut in with a stern smile. A glint appeared behind her eyes.
“Actually, he’s right. Remus,” she looked back to him, face softening as she suddenly turned timid and smiled bashfully. She stepped closer to the taller man, who blushed and leant back.
Sirius snorted. Berdy glared at him.
“I was wondering if you’d accompany me to Hogsmeade today? I find your study sessions have been enlightening in more ways than one-”
Sirius huffed. Remus jabbed him sharply with his elbow.
“-and I can’t help but find myself growing a crush on you. It sounds rather childish, now that I say it aloud, but I’m hoping you’ll do me the pleasure and go on a date with me?” She looked hopefully at Lupin, who had baulked in response.
A smug smirk sprouted on Sirius’s face.
“Oh, gosh, er- wow, Berdy, I’ll be completely honest, you’re the first person who’s asked me out so straightforwardly, and I don’t really know what to say,” Remus laughed nervously, and started biting at his thumb nail, a surprise reappearance of his old nervous habit.
Sirius reached out and gently lowered the werewolf’s hand from his mouth, making him flush ever so slightly.
“A ‘yes’ would be nice,” Berdy laughed, her confidence dimming. Remus laughed, though it came out more of a puff of breath.
“Berdy, that was very kind of you, and I’m flattered! But unfortunately I’ve actually got detention today. Full day, too, and with thisfool,” he pointed to Padfoot, who was smiling wickedly and cruelly at the girl. He’d taken to holding Remus’s arm in a vice-like grip. “So I’m booked out for the day,” he finished apologetically. Berdy’s smile faltered minutely.
“No worries, next weekend?”
Sirius tightened his grip.
“He’s busy, actually. Every weekend. Every day. Taking care of this fool-” he pointed to himself leisurely, “-so, that’s a no,” he finished with a smile that was devoid of any pleasantness.
“I’m also gay, if that’s a contributing factor or not. Up to you, I guess,” Remus shrugged, and waved a quick goodbye, side-stepping the girl and pulling along an uncharacteristically quiet Sirius.
The two weaved their way past the group of Ravenclaws and strolled through echoing halls. Moony looked over at Padfoot, who still hadn’t said a word. He was wide-eyed and silent.
Remus prickled. He attempted to slip his arm away, but the man remained holding it.
“Sirius?” He asked, earning his attention. “Are you alright? Is it what I said? Have I made you uncomfortable? I don’t really know how the wizarding world feels about same-sex couples, but in the muggle world it’s like, taboo. I’ve never heard anyone mention anything about same-sex couples, like, ever. It’s not bad is it? To be gay? I don’t want you to think any different of me, I’m still the same Moony, except I like guys now- oh God, what will James and Peter think? Lily already knows so that’s alright, Poppy somehow knew too-”
“Remus!” Sirius interrupted his quickly spiralling ramble. He caught the hand that was waiving about maniacally and wrapped an arm around him, stilling him. “I don’t have a problem with that,” he laughed lightly. “Far from it, actually. And neither would James. Same goes for Wormtail. In fact, most of the wizarding world is accepting- except the old, prestigious, pureblood families-”
“So your family?”
Sirius sighed.
“Yeah, my family is of course the mob leader of all things prejudiced.” Padfoot squeezed his tense hand and looked directly into his eyes. The pair flushed slightly. “But I’m not, and anybody who tries to make your sexuality a problem has to answer to James, Peter, Lily and I. Oh, and Pomfrey, too, I guess. Remus, we’ve got you,” he smiled.
Remus felt himself smile in return, squeezing the endearing boy’s hand gently.
“Come on, let's go.”
Remus threw the door to the dorm open, Sirius strolling in behind him. He walked over to his suitcase and rifled through it until he found what he was searching for.
He slipped out a greying, tattered cardigan, with holes littering every stitch of the fabric.
Crossing his arms over his torso, he pulled the jumper he was wearing from his lanky frame. A cool breeze iced his skin where it was bare from his ruffled shirt. The knitwear tossed his hair on the way off, so he soothed a hand over it to tame the static. He looked up.
Sirius was staring at the strip of revealed skin. His face was a vibrant scarlet as he swallowed.
His silver eyes met gold ones, and the two boys cleared their throats in unison.
Remus snorted and threw his sweater at Padfoot , who caught it easily, bringing it up and close to his chest.
“Why do you wear that thing?” Sirius looked dejected, nodding to the shabby excuse-of-a-jumper that the other was slipping on.
“Well if we’re going to clean cauldrons, I’d rather not ruin my favourite jumper,” Moony replied, nodding in return to the bundle of fabric the man hugged to himself.
“Why bother wearing any jumper at all?”
“Why not?”
The boy’s face lit up in an instant. He grinned broadly, earning an already-regretful sigh.
He all but ran to his bedside table to pull out a pristine, neatly rolled scroll from the drawer, secured with a pale blue ribbon. Unrolling it, he cleared his throat.
“I’ve been waiting for this,” Sirius whispered excitedly, suppressing mad giggles. Remus smiled against his will. “‘My very extensive list of reasons as to why R J Lupin should forgo the jumper- and shirt’,” he was smiling wide enough to hurt his cheeks. Groaning, Moony hid a red face in his hands. “‘Reason one: that hot bod underneath’-”
“Oh God, save me from this please!” Remus crimsoned and looked pleadingly at an all-too-pleased Sirius. “I’ve heard all I needed to hear.”
“So you’ll take them off?” He looked like Christmas had arrived early, quite literally bouncing on his feet.
Remus almost felt bad. Almost.
“No, but I might just burn that scroll,” he glared at the tan page. The drama queen gasped, clutching it to his chest.
“You wouldn’t dare!” The paper crinkled under his grasp.
“Sleep with one eye open,” Remus warned, stifling a smile.
* * * * * *
Filch growled at them as they reached the bottom of the stairs to the dungeon.
“You’re late.”
“We’re on time,” Remus frowned, casting a Tempo as proof.
“You’re not early; you’re late,” he scolded in a gruff voice.
Remus rolled his eyes and followed the unpleasant man into the dimly lit space.
“You’re not allowed to use any magic at all. Dumbledore’ll know if you do.”
The desks in the room had been transfigured into a single long table, laid with innumerable dirty cauldrons.
“There are sponges an’ buckets next to the table. ‘Our detention’s over when all cauldrons are completely clean.”
The pair moved to walk to the table when Filch stopped them.
“Hand over ‘our wands.” He held out an expectant hand.
Remus slid his wand out of his trouser pocket as Sirius dug through his bag for his own.
They passed their wands over to Filch who huffed. He looked at them menacingly.
“No funny business. Otherwise you’ll be serving another detention with me.”
The boys shared an uncomfortable glance before nodding.
With one final glower, Filch turned and left the room, slamming and locking the door behind him.
Remus shrugged and walked over to one end of the table, dropping his bag at his feet. Sirius followed suit, dragging his feet to the opposite end.
He stared down at the bucket of soapy water with a sad, deteriorated sponge floating. Pushing up his sleeves to his elbows, he picked up the heavy bucket and deposited it on a nearby chair.
A clatter sounded from the other side of the table.
Remus looked across and saw a bright red Sirius holding a small cauldron.
“What?” He asked, and crossed his arms with a brow raised. Sirius reddened further.
“You have, uh, nice- erm- forearms. Nice forearms.”
He was shocked into a laugh, coughing at the suddenness as he braced the table for support. Padfoot pouted.
“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting that-” he laughed again, feeling bubbly and warm as Sirius blushed deeper. “But thank you. You do too,” he finished with an amused smile. The redfaced boy lowered his head to his seemingly very interesting bucket.
“Thanks,” he mumbled.
Remus smiled to himself as he wrung out the sponge and began scrubbing a cauldron.
He had gotten through about three cauldrons in silence when Sirius spoke.
“I’m queer.”
The man had said it so quickly that he thought he hadn’t heard correctly.
“What was that?” he asked, setting his sponge down.
Sirius was staring at a fixed spot on his cauldron. He picked at the flaking remains of an old potion.
“I’m queer.”
Remus blinked.
“Queer as in…?”
Sirius puffed his cheeks.
“Queer as in not heterosexual? I like guys. And girls, but I don’t really want to label it as anything other than queer at the moment,” he shrugged tensely.
Remus’s mind was blank. He was short circuiting over the fact that Sirius was queer.
“Oh,” he said eventually. “Thank you for telling me. I, uh, didn’t expect that. At all,” he said dazedly.
Sirius laughed acidly.
“Me neither.”
He hung his head back and rested his arms on the table. Remus watched him carefully. He frowned.
“When did you find out?”
Sirius stood back up, watching Remus with an intensity that made his skin prickle.
“When I was ten. My mother and father had taken Reg and I to see our family in southern France. We went to a beach at one point and I realised that I was watching the boys there just as much- if not more- than the girls. That was when I found out I was different,” he spoke quietly and carefully, as though the words were new on his tongue.
“Oh,” Remus whispered stupidly. He couldn’t think of anything else to say. “Have you told anyone?”
Sirius smiled in reminiscence.
“James. I told him in second year. He was so supportive- I don’t know what I did to deserve him as my friend.”
A frown spread across a scarred face.
“Sirius, you always undermine yourself. If only you could see yourself like I do.”
The two flushed, but Remus ignored it and walked along the table to pull him into a tight, warm hug.
Sirius sucked in a breath and wrapped his arms around the other, pressing his face into the juncture of his shoulder.
Remus jumped slightly, feeling his body go on high alert.
“Your nose is cold,” he whispered into Sirius’s hair.
Padfoot laughed and pulled back slowly, and Remus grieved the loss.
“Thank you,” Sirius whispered, smiling sweetly.
It made Remus’s head spin.
“You don’t have to thank me, Pads,” he replied, turning to walk back to his end of the table.
“What about you?” Sirius asked once the two had resumed cleaning. “When did you find out?” It took all of Remus’s might to ignore how Sirius’s hands and arms flexed as he scrubbed deep in the cauldron. A piece of hair had fallen in his face, and Remus itched to brush it away.
“I think I realised when I was around eight or nine. My mum invited a boy from my kindergarten to our house. He was two or three years older than me, but our mums were friends so we saw each other often. He was very kind, never mentioned my scars,” Remus smiled to himself as he connected the wholesome similarities between his first and only loves. “And eventually I realised I was constantly trying to impress him and win him over. I’d dream of us holding hands and getting married. I didn’t want to do any of that with any girls, and that was when I found out that I was different,” Remus said, mirroring Sirius’s words, who smiled down at his cauldron. “I didn’t put a name to it but I knew.”
“That’s sweet, Moony,” Sirius murmured softly. “Where’s the boy now?”
“Oh, I don’t know. We never saw each other again after I moved houses. Broke my heart, but was probably a relief to him,” Remus joked with a shrug.
He yelped after being smacked by the wet flannel that had been thrown at him.
“Don’t say that, Moony! You’re always, and always have been, a treat to be around. I can promise you that that boy did miss you. He lost a friend, after all.”
And Remus just smiled in response.
Sirius’s face schooled after a moment.
“Do your parents know?” He asked, thumbing at a groove in a cauldron.
Remus sighed. He itched to bite his nail.
“They both found out eventually. My mum was more receptive to it. She didn’t do anything about it and never brought it up again. Before she died, as she was wasting away in hospice, she told me one day that she dreamt of my future. She said she saw me settling into a nice, cosy cottage with flowers everywhere. She saw me getting married to the person I love and adopting lots of stray cats,” Remus trailed off, the memory bringing bittersweet nostalgia. The thought of having that future warmed his inside. He imagined sitting in an old, loved armchair as his hair greyed, with a cat at his feet and his lover on the adjacent sofa. They would relax into the peaceful ambiance of the autumn evening with a crackling fire in the living room and cups of forgotten tea, as they talked of nothing and everything.
But that wasn’t the future that Remus was getting, no. His life was dependent on a love that was probably unrequited, and with health declining quicker than he could catch, he had only a few days left. A few days of blissfully pretending and stupidly ignoring.
He’d take what he could get.
“I always hated living in a big house,” Sirius said softly, thoughtfully. “The endless rooms and flashy, expensive clothes. I would dream of escaping and running away to a small, woodlands-y house. Second hand everything, and mismatched, chipped crockery. The opposite of my old house. I mean, of course I did escape- but James’s house is just as big and endless. Although, his has a soul, at least.”
The words rattled around Remus’s head, as he let them nestle in. He warmed at the similarities of their dreams, the comfortable life they both dreamed of. But as Sirius was trying to run away from his home, Remus was trying to run back.
“I can’t imagine being queer was an easy realisation, given your family,” Remus said. He studied the soft lines of his love's face.
Sirius shrugged, exhaling. He set aside his cleaned cauldron to the towering pile he had accumulated.
“I actually found my family’s reaction better to handle than my own. They disowned me, tortured me, cussed me out, abused me. But, I mean, that was all stuff I’ve coped through before. I was castigated every day in that house, but when I started reflecting my family’s beliefs onto myself, it became unbearable. That’s one reason I’m so grateful for James; he stopped my downward spiral before it got the best me.”
Remus was silent. He was at a loss for words, trying to ease the nausea that had overwhelmed him from Sirius’s explanation.
So the other boy continued talking, filling the painful silence.
“But what about you? I thought you said being queer in the muggle world was taboo?”
“Nothing like that. I mean, if the wrong person finds out then who knows what’ll happen. My biggest problem was my dad. He just sort of closed up after he found out- he was never the same.”
A heavy silence engulfed the room. Remus shrugged helplessly. “But anyway, it doesn’t affect me anymore.”
He stared at the soapy streaks he traced on the large cauldron. Sirius was silent.
Remus looked up at him to see a growing grin on his face.
“What?” He looked at the now full-grown grin, feeling one of his own beginning to sprout. “What?”
Sirius shook his head, more strands of hair falling down and framing his face.
“Just- what are the chances? That we’re both like this?” His eyes bore into Remus, a prying glint that he couldn’t decipher.
Remus shrugged.
“I don’t know, but it’s comforting to know.”
Sirius’s smile dimmed into a softer one. It felt too intimate to be aimed at him, and he began to feel faint.
“It is. I’m glad I’ve got you.”
And at that point, the usual, dizzying, heavenly ache of yearning swallowed Remus, because how could he be so close to Sirius, yet so far.
Moony smiled- bitterness accompanying it- in reply and dropped his head. He added to his collection of clean cauldrons.
“You know,” Sirius began casually, looking down at his cauldron. “There was some Ravenclaw guy who was making eyes at you back in the halls.”
Remus’s head flew back up.
“Oh. Okay.”
So?
From the other end of the table, Sirius bristled slightly.
“Okay? That’s all?”
“What do you want me to say, Sirius? He was ‘making eyes’ at me. And?” Remus frowned.
The glowering man shrugged, not saying a word.
“What’s the issue here?” He scoffed and folded his arms, feeling a building anger char his insides.
Sirius matched him, crossing his arms and scowling.
“No issue. I just didn’t like how he was looking at you.”
The taller boy shut his eyes and inhaled through his nostrils, attempting to calm himself down.
It was no use.
“Well, I’m sorry that the way other people look at other people upsets you. There’s nothing I can do about that. And what’s it to you anyway?” Broiling fury, intertwined with pure confusion, was rising in Remus. “What, when someone decides to fucking glance at me instead of throw themselves at your feet, you can’t take it?” His voice raised its volume sharply.
The air crackled between them.
“What? No! That’s not what this is at all! You always see me like I’m on some fucking ego trip!” The other boy was yelling back now, the sound ricocheting off dungeon walls.
“Then what is it, Sirius? If it’s not that, what the fuck is it? Why are you so angry?!” His throat was sore from shouting. Deep inside him, a painful tug begged for Remus to crawl into a corner and wail like a child. Flowers threatened to spill out as his air supply was cutting increasingly low.
Sirius’s mouth hung open, words tried to fall out but didn’t. He clenched his jaw shut and surged a loathing glare at a guiltless mark on the table.
Remus was suddenly overcome with the urge to hide away into a dark cupboard as he used to do when he was younger.
A swirling flutter of flowers made its way up his air pipe. He hunched forward as the buds struck out of him in hurtful heaves.
He gasped into his cotton handkerchief, watching the pile of flowers build. There was now a velvety, green, hand-like sepal that cupped the bases of the flowers. A new addition.
The flowers left his throat raw and sensitive as they tumbled out and stacked up.
When the last blossom knocked through Remus’s exhausted self, he wrapped up the secrets in the cotton and pressed it down into his little black purse. The blooms that were embroidered on the fabric tilted their heads and laughed at him.
The exhausted soul looked up at Sirius. His face was a concerning blend of fear and pain.
“Can we stop talking about this?”
And Remus wasn’t sure whether by ‘this’ he meant the argument they were having, or his sickness.
But that didn’t matter, as the other boy nodded tightly and shut himself into a screaming silence.
Remus was about halfway down the table when Sirius spoke.
“Oh shit, we’re almost done.”
He looked up at Remus, gesturing to the table in front of them. The few leftover dirty cauldrons were concentrated in the centre of the table, surrounded by towering stacks of cleaned ones.
“Oh yeah,” he realised, and he rested his weight against the table.
Sirius flushed ever so gently.
Remus wanted to scream.
“I guess I should-” Sirius moved abruptly and walked around the length of the table until he was stood near the other..
The cauldrons on the table shifted suddenly, engulfed in a bronze aura as they bustled and bumped. The stacks of cleaned pots disappeared with a pop while the dirty ones lined up in a neat row of eleven along the table, varying in shapes and sizes. The largest of all in the centre.
“Oh,” Sirius hung his arms limply, stepping away to stand in front of the first cauldron.
Remus mirrored him with a shrug, wordlessly picking up his tired sponge and scrubbing at the ancient metal.
One down.
The cauldron vanished with a click.
Remus couldn’t control his eyes as they drew back to the same person as always.
He found a chrome-coloured stare already on him.
Sirius coughed as his eyes widened.
“I- er- sorry,” he choked, crimsoning.
Remus watched him intently, cocking his head. He smiled gently in amusement.
“Don’t be.”
Sirius furrowed his brows. “What?”
“Don’t be sorry. I don’t mind.”
The man reddened deeper, like drops of scarlet ink seeping through paper.
Why did I say that, dear God, what is wrong with me-
“Noted,” Sirius smiled, a glimpse of sharp white teeth that just about sent Remus to his grave.
Flowers danced inside his chest.
Not now. Please.
He coughed a handful of flowers into his hand.
“Cold not getting any better?” Sirius asked from a few steps away. His cauldron left with a crack.
“Nope,” Remus grunted.
He shoved the rubbery petals into his pocket.
Two down.
His cauldron disappeared with a snap.
He stepped closer to the centre, feeling the comforting yet terrifying presence grow closer, like a warmth pressed against him.
Remus looked up to the boy near him once again. The sleeves pushed up to his elbows revealed lean forearms that flexed with each flick and twist of his narrow wrists.
“What?”
He snapped his eyes up to the pleased face in front of him.
“Nothing. Uh- sorry.”
“Don’t be. I don’t mind.”
And hearing his own words fed back to him was eating a ripe cherry, then choking on the pit.
It was bitter yet sweet; repulsive but mouth-watering.
Because if Sirius knew how deep the words slashed into Remus- how close to the heart they tore- he’d know better than to throw around those devastating phrases.
Because Remus wanted to do more than look. He ached to hold Sirius like his own, even for a moment. To hand-hold in public while sharing secret kisses. To embrace in private and meld into one as lovers do.
He needed to hold Sirius’s face close enough to his own, such that he could count every valley and peak in his stirring irises, as though each one tallied became an extra breath of air.
He needed to press feathery kisses to each and every hidden freckle that he knew were there because the summer brought them out like constellations scattered across his face.
Three down.
It sparked into nothing.
He inched closer to the now burning proximity between them .
Remus begged for Sirius to curl into him. For them to wrap their arms around each other until they neither knew nor cared whose arm was whose, whose skin was whose, whose bare and beating heart was whose.
He desperately ached to admire and behold Sirius in his deserved light. To allow his darling to not only see, but feel the overflowing love that occupied his gaze.
Sirius’s cauldron squeaked away.
Remus would douse himself in flames if it kept Sirius happy.
He would invent a method to bottle clouds if the man batted his eyes and requested.
Remus would find a way to stop loving Sirius if he asked.
Well, he’d try.
But he couldn’t promise.
From somewhere to his right, he heard the crackling of a cauldron vanishing.
Growing blossoms hugged his lungs and airway in a strangely comforting yet discomforting cradle.
He cleared his throat, postponing the bloom for a less disrupting moment. He was rather enjoying sulking in peace.
Remus’s cauldron jolted away.
“Four left. How about we tackle the last one together; it’s a beast,” Sirius offered, nudging Lupin with his elbow as he nodded to the behemoth cauldron in the centre.
Remus nodded absently.
“Sure,” he muttered, distracted by the needle-like pricks Sirius’s skin left on his own.
His heart rose in his throat. He swallowed it down.
Sirius’s cauldron scratched away.
Remus tried to ignore the presence right beside him. He reallytried. But it was impossible, as their arms brushed with every movement.
He was just about finished cleaning his last cauldron when the boy beside him dumped a gag-worthy pile of gooey potion remains into it.
“Wha- Padfoot! What was that for!” he yelped and tried to scrub it out as Sirius chucked more in.
“A gift!” he grinned maliciously.
“Keep your fucking gifts!” Remus cried.
Sirius snaked his arm to deposit another ‘gift’, but he wasn’t quick enough, as his arm was captured and pulled above their heads.
The action yanked the boys closer, leaving them nearly chest to chest.
Remus stopped, panting heavily as he processed their proximity. His head was tilted down to look at the shorter boy, whose wrist he clutched.
Sirius glanced down his face. He felt the gaze stick like glue to his lips, which he licked subconsciously.
Sirius swallowed, and Remus watched the entire movement, drinking up every part until it disappeared beneath the neckline of his shirt.
His eyes moved back up to meet grey ones, which were focusing on him with a level of concentration that made heat tickle and trickle through his tingling body.
And then Sirius grinned.
His free arm moved, catching Remus’s gaze as it dropped even more potion remains into the cauldron.
“Oh- you- arghhh-!” Remus shrieked. He threw his arm out to catch Sirius’s free one, now holding both his arms.
He twisted their bodies, in a fit of pure adrenaline, pushing Sirius against the table and pressing him down. He trapped Sirius’s arms behind him, holding them back with his hands.
The sudden exertion left him winded, however, and he rested the weight of his body against Sirius, dropping his head onto his shoulder.
He shifted his hands off of Sirius’s, resting them flat on the table top as he regained his breath in shallow pants.
He tried to pay no mind to how the other’s body was pinned flush to his own.
“Sorry,” Remus panted to shoulder seam of Sirius’s shirt. He felt the man rest his chin in his hair.
Remus tried not to scream.
“It’s alright,” Sirius exhaled.
He pressed an unsure palm against Remus’s back.
Then the other to the back of his neck.
He grasped at Moony like he was slipping away.
Remus rested more of his weight on Sirius, burrowing his face into the nook of his shoulder. He inhaled the scent of him.
Reluctantly, he lifted his head and tried to pull away.
But Sirius tightened his grip.
“Don’t go,” he whispered. His eyes bore into Remus’ soul like molten metal. “Please.”
Remus’s words left him as he attempted to swallow the stone that had formed in his throat.
“I- I’m not.” He swallowed.
Sirius relaxed his hold but neither of the pair pulled away.
The distance between them was hazy and hypnotic. Every inch of their bodies were touching near skin-to-skin. Their legs slotted together, arms knotted like rope, and their chests were magnets.
It only felt natural for lips to meet lips.
Remus knew he should’ve stopped where he was, but he didn’t- couldn’t- pull away. His lips parted slightly and their faces pulled weightlessly closer.
Glacier eyes darted back and forth between his wide, searching ones, and his mouth that drew in trembling breaths, like they couldn’t decide where to land. It left blistering, delightful traces on his face.
He felt the flowers in his chest excite. They buzzed like bees, rattling up higher and higher through him with every distance he pushed forward.
The air around them was electrified, boiling and stinging their skin.
Remus felt the heat radiating from Sirius’s skin. His mouth was a rip current drawing him in, leaving him with no choice but to give in.
Sirius pressed his fingers into Remus’s hair, tilting his head down and forward.
Now a hair’s breadth apart, Remus would be able to feel Sirius’s lips against his own if he pressed forward just.
Sirius parted his lips, and in doing so, they grazed Remus’s in a feather-light brush.
Remus heard himself gasp softly at the near silent, breathy, whine that snuck out of Sirius. And he just knew he would replay that sound in his head for the rest of eternity.
Their foreheads met as they rested, breathing shallow breaths.
Sirius brought his hands up to Remus’s face, cupping his chin and jaw.
He nearly wept at the feeling of Sirius’s fingertips pressing so delicately and carefully behind his ears, moving in outright inhumanelyintimate traces of circles.
Remus shifted his weight, bracing Sirius against him with one sturdy arm as he reflected him by cupping his face. The hand that lay flat against the expanse of Sirius’s back brought him impossibly closer. He curled his fingers into Sirius’s, interlocking them.
He opened his eyes.
When did he shut them?
And he was met with two lakes of harrowing mercury, that carved out deep abysses in his exhausted, motheaten soul.
He could see every detail woven into them, the way they caught in the light and glowed with their own.
He could see the imperceptible yet ever-present smattering of freckles across his eyelids, nose and cheeks.
Remus cradled his head, relishing in the effortless way his fingers carded through the black satin strands. Sirius leant back into the touch. His neck was bared as his head hung back.
Feeling drawn in by forces stronger than he could fight against, Remus dipped his head and pressed his lips to an especially magnetic spot- right below his jaw- in what was too soft to be called a kiss because he couldn’t. Sirius wasn’t his.
The boy seemed to seep into his arms further, as he let out a tortured, soft, cry.
Remus lifted his head back up, and Sirius chased the movement with his own. He grabbed the neckline of Remus’s sweater, pulling him back- closer- once more.
And, yet again, they found themselves with less than a millimetre of space between them.
Remus could see the streak of a tear that had freshly fallen out of the other’s eyes.
“Please-” Sirius whispered out in a brittle breath. He crooked Remus down once more, their lips dusting one another. His fingers gripped harder into Remus’s compliant skin. “Just-”
A cauldron spun away with a resounding crack.
Remus leapt away, clutching at his thundering chest as he caught his breath.
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph-” he belted into the charged room.
Sirius yelped, jolting against the table.
The cauldrons rattled behind him. He blew out a shaken breath.
“Merlin’s ballsack.”
Remus nodded. His head was screaming incoherent cries and he was struggling to process what had just happened.
“Erm-” Sirius scratched his head. “About that-”
“It’s fine.”
Please don’t say anything.
“Oh- alright. Uh, okay.”
“Yeah. Uhm. Okay.”
Sirius pursed his lips and pivoted to face the table. His cauldron had vanished.
“I guess I’ll get a head start on that one,” he pointed to the centrepiece.
Remus nodded.
“Okay.”
He picked up the abandoned sponge, feeling like it was last in his hand only a century ago.
Scrubbing at the flaking remains felt especially wicked. Sirius was stood not a metre away. Every motion of his arm sent a gush of glacial wind to Remus, making the hairs on his body stand endlessly alert.
The boy blazed in his peripheral like the flame of welding metal, working surely as ever like he hadn’t just been wrapped up in his arms.
As though his lips hadn’t just grazed Remus. Twice.
Remus wiped away the final speck of grime from his cauldron. It cried out and disappeared.
He thought about doing the same.
“Done?”
And there Sirius rested, as though the Gods themselves had formulated Remus’s very own drug. And now that he had had a taste, he wasn’t sure he’d ever lay his lips on anything as beautiful again.
He shot a glance up at Remus, which drove a pitiless stake through his heart and soul.
Or whatever of them was left; Sirius had kept the rest.
“Yep,” Remus muttered. He took one final side step in front of the cauldron.
The heat of Sirius’s body against his own was painful. The flowers in his chest swarmed like bees, and Sirius was the bright, aromatic blossom. He didn’t understand how loving someone so certainly and so purely was even possible.
Sirius’s bare arm skimmed his own, and he tried not to weep pitifully over the tragic brush of skin.
“I can’t get the gunk out of the cracks,” the boy muttered. He squinted at a particularly grimy patch of the cauldron.
His eyes darted over to Remus’s site of work, before widening suddenly.
“What- how did you do that!” He pointed at the sparkling, clean grooves Remus had worked on. “How did you do that!”
Remus looked down at the cauldron and back up.
“I just- cleaned it? I dunno.”
Sirius scrubbed aggressively enough to send specks of broken sponge and bubbly foam flying at the two boys.
“Sirius- stop-” Remus grunted as he wiped off the suds on his face. “That’s not how you’re supposed to clean it!”
He caught him by the arm before he could wear his sponge down to a thread.
“You have to get in the cracks, you can’t just wipe over them.” He spoke softly, and began gently guiding Sirius’s hand.
As Remus pressed his own fingers on top of the other’s, the feeling of intimacy crept up once again and strangled him as he flushed at the unavoidably sensual movement between them. He lowered his head to hide the firing blush, blatantly ignoring how Sirius’s eyes were on him instead of the cauldron.
Sirius shifted, the light friction sending sparks up the taller boy’s body, and he pressed himself back against him, so that he was being near-spooned by the man behind him.
Remus faltered. His brain shut down and his hand ceased to move.
“You were saying?” Sirius whispered, and if the pressure of their connected bodies hadn’t already made Remus’s mind blank, the breathless voice which Sirius spoke in would.
“Uh,” he rasped. A piece of him died inside at the desperate, whimpering sound he produced when Sirius pushed further back into him.
Remus raised his arm, leaving it joint at the knuckles to Sirius, and roped it over Sirius’s head to rest more comfortably. In doing so, it brought their bodies closer yet, bringing them flush against one another. With a growing confidence, he placed his left arm on the table top for support, filing it between Sirius’s own left arm and body. He leant forward, dropping his head onto the boy’s shoulder and resumed the cleaning.
“I was saying,” Remus mocked softly. He grinned after seeing the blazing red blush that had seared Sirius’s face, alongside the sharp hitch of breath. “You need to press the sponge into the fractures. Like this.” He punctuated the sentence by pushing down on willing fingers.
As their hands glided together over soapy water, Remus couldn’t help but feel increasingly aware of the distance between them- or lack thereof.
He could feel the fuzzy, magnetic heat from Sirius’s body, and with every snag of fabric on fabric, he grew rapidly more nauseated.
His fingers ached to hold the unfairly delicate dip of Sirius’s waist, he yearned to slot his hands into the place that was so perfectly fit for him.
He wanted to hold the nape of his neck, carding his fingers into his satin hair, feeling the warmth rise up Sirius’s body to the delicious point of contact between them. He wanted to feel the blood thrumming under his fair skin.
He wished that every brush of skin against skin painted a permanent stain of colour on their bodies, as an everlasting marker of their brief brushes of intimacy.
Remus felt the heat and tingle of his blood pool down, lower and lower.
His entire front was pressed flush against Sirius’s back, so much so that he could feel every flex and shift of the boy’s muscles. If he didn’t move soon, there would be no explanation, nor denial, of his growing arousal..
Remus stepped back abruptly, releasing Sirius from his clasp and slipping his wandering hands away. He left a good forearms-length between them.
The other man buckled slightly from the loss of support and wheeled around to face Remus.
And, oh, if Remus could freeze time just to savour the blissful, dazed expression on Sirius’s face.
His face was wonderfully pink and his eyelids sat low over dilated pupils. His mouth was tugging up in the corner, into that smile that Remus adored so dearly.
Sirius parted his lips, just enough for his pearly, sharp canines to tug at his bottom lip.
Remus felt himself physically swoon and sway, a similar smile gracing his mouth.
“Got the hang of it?” He asked, distracted by the personification of beauty that stood before him.
The boy pursed his lips and tapped his chin in thought. An immoral grin claimed his face.
“Not quite,” he began in a low, rasping voice that made the already existing excitement in Remus fire up tenfold. “I think you might need to guide me again.”
The voice, the eyes, the mouth. Remus felt his intestines turn themselves into knots.
A warning flutter in his chest brought him back to reality.
He rolled his eyes.
“We’re basically done, anyway. I’ll finish up the cauldron, so long as you keep me company.”
“I always keep you company,” Sirius all but pouted.
“Okay,” Remus flicked his nose and grinned, “Keep me entertained.”
And there was that expression again, the one of bliss and ecstasy.
Remus’s stomach flew in loops.
“I think that’s doable.”
* * * * * *
After a long and torturous three full minutes of wiping off the cauldron and blatantly ignoring how Sirius was sat up on the table next to him, dragging his ankle slowly up and down his thigh as he gazed at him through thick black lashes, the last cauldron disappeared with a satisfying pop.
Remus sighed and sagged against the table, flexing his worn out wrists and knuckles.
Sirius held his shoulder gently and guided him to stand between his parted legs that hung off the table. He kneaded instinctively at the knots in his shoulder, and where of his back he could reach.
The worn out boy sunk forward into the other, resting his migraine-ridden head against a warm, inviting chest.
“You alright?” Sirius asked him softly as he massaged the tension from his shoulders.
Remus pressed his face deeper into the folds of fabric and squeezed his eyes shut.
“Tired. Achy. Headache,” was all he managed.
“You’ve been that a lot lately, haven’t you?” He carded his fingers through messy, golden-brown hair and pressed nimble digits to his scalp.
Remus didn’t respond, instead he wrapped an arm loosely around the hips that sat in front of him.
Sirius was clearly unsatisfied from the lack of explanation, but, mercifully, he didn’t say anything else and instead relaxed back into the arm around him.
A soft hand brushed a stray curl from Remus’ face, and he looked up to find an expression of such soft care, that he fell in love all over again.
He felt like he’d been doing that quite a bit recently. Constantly tripping, stumbling, tumbling, and falling in love. And with each time, it was Sirius who he fell for, over and over. The gentle smile that would rest on his face when he was relaxed, the smug smirk that would tug the corner of his mouth uncontrollably up, the depth of intensity in each and every look his silver eyes sent to him, Remus fell in love with it all. Each one winded him like it was new, leaving him helpless and hopeless and so, so in love.
He looked at the boy in front of him, and he met glowing eyes already trained on him. Sirius cocked his head slightly, studying him in curiosity.
Remus smiled softly and shook his head. He felt his curls swish lightly from the movement, and soon after, a soothing hand weaved through them. The hand tucked delicate fingertips onto his scalp and guided his head up.
Sirius watched him intently, an unreadable emotion behind his eyes accompanied by an oh so fond smile.
“What?” Remus gazed at the other in complete enamor, because what else could he do? It probably read on his face.
“What do you mean ‘what’?” Sirius asked in light amusement.
“I mean, what’s causing you to look at me like that?”
And Sirius just smiled in further fondness, albeit the hint of sorrow that glinted in his eyes.
“How could I not?”
Remus watched him. He studied his face, which was drifting closer to his own. He felt a nauseating flutter in his stomach as he dropped his gaze to Sirius’s lips, and back up to his eyes.
Sirius mirrored him, eyes flitting down to his lips and back up. He pulled closer, still.
When they were no further than a breath apart, the pale boy shuddered an exhale.
“Remus, I need to tell you something-”
The door to the dungeon burst open, sending out a sharp crack as it bounced off the wall and began re-closing.
Remus leapt away from Sirius, panting from a mix of adrenaline and the shock of the door being thrown open.
Filch barged into the doorway.
“Done?” he grated.
Remus glanced at Sirius. He was staring hard at the floor.
“Yes.”
The squib tossed their wands, clattering together on the cold, damp floor. He jerked his head back, gesturing at them to leave.
Remus slunk to his discarded bag on the ground and watched through his peripheral as Sirius did the same. He scooped up their wands, which had rolled to a stop beside his feet.
The two left the classroom, walking meekly up the winding stairs.
Golden sunlight adorned the hallway as it leaked through the pillars onto the floor and walls, as the sun began to set.
A comforting, yet quiet shadow accompanied Remus through the empty corridors.
He dug into his bag and fished out the Marauders Map, tapping it with his wand as he muttered the incantation. The parchment unfolded and details in ink grew on the page.
He spotted the name tags of James and Peter sitting under a tree beside the lake.
“Should we go annoy Prongs and Wormy?” Remus asked the boy beside him, tilting the map to him to see.
Sirius nodded, and the two changed course, meandering through the halls to join the missing pair.
Remus stole a glance at Sirius, and promptly stole another.
The sunlight turned his skin luminous and gleaming, giving him a deserved halo as the rays danced through his hair.
The setting sun highlighted his eyes, turning them from their usual cool mercury to an all consuming mother of pearl. Remus could see every layer of iridescent colour, stacked and swirling.
His dark brows stood out all the more starkly against his pale skin and lustrous eyes, echoed by the thick, curled, black lashes that reached to the heavens.
His skin was glistening from a light sheen of sweat, a few moles speckled here and there, and his full lips had tinted to a deeper shade of ruby.
Remus didn’t think he’d ever again see someone so beautiful, as though hand-crafted by Aphrodite herself. He was certain that there was nobody who could, or ever would, match the level of beauty of which was Sirius.
Sirius Black was a walking piece of art.
And Remus Lupin was hopeless.
At least he’d die happy. Somewhat.
Sirius caught his eye and flushed from the intensity of Remus’s gaze. His cheeks dusted a pretty, rosy pink.
Remus thought he was going to sob.
He bumped his hips sideways, gently against Remus’s, shooting him the softest of smiles.
Remus was going to sob.
Their hands brushed as they walked. Sirius linked their pinkies.
Remus was going to sob.
Sirius peppered a kiss onto Remus’s shoulder. He swayed their bound hands gently.
Remus was going to sob.
“I love you a lot, Moons. I just want you to know that.”
And Remus couldn’t explain how he hadn’t already collapsed, wailing on the centuries-old floor, heart broken into thousands of jagged, tarnished shards that spelled out ‘Sirius’ onto the cobblestone.
“I love you too, Sirius,” he managed somehow to choke out. Sirius smiled delicately at Remus. “More than you realise.”
The cobble softened to grass under their feet as they walked across the grounds to the lake. Up ahead in the not-too-far distance, the leisurely silhouettes of James and Peter were slumped below an ancient ash tree.
As the pair got closer, James looked up and waved brightly at them, before turning back to the lake and skipping a stone across the surface.
Remus watched it go.
It caused a brilliant line of ripples to spring and spread along the dark, reflective water.
The lake smoothed to an almost flat surface. The pebble skidded to a stop and sunk deep beneath the brim.
Remus imagined that there was little to no sunlight wherever it was that the stone touched ground. He imagined a cold, dark, starless world. Maybe that was where the squid lived, a cramped, muggy cave with no one to bother or scare off.
He quite wanted to follow the pebble. Maybe he’d find the place for him.
And Remus had never learnt to swim, never fancied it, but he had an inkling that that wouldn’t matter.
He felt he’d just somehow floatdown after the pebble, hit the lake floor softly after it did, and then slip it in his pocket so he never drifted back up.
So he’d never have to face the world again.
Because how many more times would the universe throw another desolate, unfortunate circumstance at Remus to keep under his belt.
“Not getting it back, Jamie?” Sirius asked easily, and Remus found himself harshly grounded again.
The boy pulled Remus forward to the tree, plopping down gracefully beside Peter, and patting the soft lawn beside him.
“Nah, I like seeing them sink down. Feels sort of meaningful.”
“Oh Merlin,” Sirius shook his head and mockingly whispered to the others. “Prongs is getting philosophical on us. Run for the shadows!”
But Remus hadn’t ever understood James Fleamont Potter as much as he did then.
Potter snorted and snatched another sleek pebble from the ground beside him. He swung his arm, letting the stone loose to skid the surface of the lake expertly.
“Not philosophical,” he ran a hand through his hair, only making the wild locks stand up in the breeze. “Just… Oh, I don’t know! Thoughtful.”
Peter tutted.
“It’s all Evans’ fault, isn’t it? She’s taken our Prongs and made a weird clone copy.”
“I was always taken by Evans,” James batted his eyelashes, making the three boys groan.
“You sitting down, Moony?”
Remus looked down at Sirius. He had forgotten he was standing.
“Oh! Yeah, right.”
He sat down, considerably less graciously than the other had a few moments earlier. His knees clicked as they folded and bumped together clumsily.
Padfoot smiled at him, and dropped his head on his shoulder.
Warm, nauseating sparks fired up under Remus’s skin, right where Sirius rested. He jumped slightly as the boy began tracing patterns on his thigh.
“So how was your date?”
Remus startled, coughing aggressively as tell-tale flowers tried to rip out of him.
Sirius had jumped as well, face a lovely pink flush as he cleared his throat from a couple of coughs.
“Woah, there! Guys, I’m kidding!” James looked in surprise between his two friends. His face flashed with an almost unnoticeable smirk, before schooling itself. Wormtail snorted from behind his sketchbook.
“So how was detention?”
* * * * * *
Remus leant back against the tree, watching the yellow-orange sunlight lower behind the castle. He shifted his spine against the bark and unfolded his legs so they lay stretched out in front of him.
His messenger bag sat limply beside him, and he rooted around in it, before pulling out his book.
The shabby, threadbare cover of Maurice sat in his hand as opened the pages to his book mark.
There was movement beside him, and moments later, Sirius lowered his head onto his lap.
The touch caused heat to rage through Remus, skin buzzing and mind blanking into a pleasantly static fuzz.
He carded trembling fingers through Sirius’s hair, which pooled around his head in a pile of smooth, black silk.
Sirius sighed out a breath, and all tension in his body left with it as he sunk further into Remus. His eyelids fluttered shut and a smile ghosted his face.
And Remus snorted despite himself.
“If you were Padfoot right now, your tail would be wagging.”
Sirius grinned, eyes still shut.
“Don’t forget the foot, his foot would be going mad,” Peter quipped with a grin.
He yelped as Sirius kicked him.
“Doesn’t even need to be Padfoot for that one.” James threw a stick at him. “Fetch.”
Sirius huffed and rolled his eyes, but the grin never left his face. Remus had a feeling he wore a similar one.
Prongs stood up suddenly, sending a gust of wind after him.
“Reckon I can see the sunset better from the tree?”
“You mean, from up the tree?” Remus lifted a brow. “You’re going to climb the tree?”
James smiled brightly, oblivious to the incredulous tone of his voice.
“Yep!”
He reached above him and held onto a wide branch. And somehow, miraculously, he hurled himself up and onto it.
Remus took that as his cue to actually read.
The words filled his head satisfyingly, sentences and phrases busying his ever-spiralling conscience. His fingers continued to weave through Sirius’s hair, soothing his scalp and combing through.
He felt eyes on him, but tried to ignore the feeling. He read on, hoping that the morose words by E. M. Forster would be enough to capture his attention again.
But the stare scorched burns onto his face, and he felt himself redden under the direct attention.
He glanced down at the boy below him.
Sirius was studying his face as though it held the source of all things interesting. His gaze met Remus’s, and their locked eyes aroused an all too familiar desire in him.
The other boy’s silver eyes darkened to a gunmetal grey as he watched Remus intently.
Remus blushed darker.
“Something on my face?”
His voice couldn’t seem to rise above a crackling whisper.
Sirius’s face warmed up, as he finally snapped out of his trance.
“Er-” he reached a hand up to Remus’s face, fingers cool against his skin. His palm cupped the jut of his jaw, and- to Remus’s horror- rubbed his thumb over the edge of his upper lip.
“-You just have a-” he furrowed his brow slightly, and rubbed more coarsely at Remus’s lip. “-Why is it not moving!”
Sirius sat up on his elbow, twisting his body to the side so he could see Remus better. He squinted his eyes and held his jaw firmly in his hand, before wrenching a bright pink face closer to his own.
Remus inhaled sharply at the sudden closeness to Sirius. He was grateful for whatever stroke of luck helped him contain his cough.
Sirius’s brows knotted together deeply, and he tugged the other forward ever so slightly once more.
Remus’s breath stopped abruptly, as he was close enough to Sirius to feel the gentle exhales from his nose.
“Oh-” Sirius widened his eyes in shock. His face turned a shade of pink Remus didn’t think was possible as he leant back on his elbow and swiped his thumb lamely one last time, before dropping his hand- and head- in embarrassment.
“It’s a freckle.”
Remus attempted to speak several times, but the words soiled in his mouth and couldn’t pour out. He couldn’t imagine how red he was.
“I’m sorry- I didn’t think you had a freckle there,” Sirius tried, sheepishly. “I don’t know how I’ve never noticed it before,” he frowned.
The thought that Sirius knew the specific location of any of his freckles was exhilarating.
“Uh, it’s all the sunshine… I get more sometimes,” Remus explained quietly. His face was, thankfully, starting to cool down.
“Oh. Makes- uh- sense.”
Remus nodded uselessly.
Sirius reached up again, tucking a rogue lock of hair behind his ear, and he leaned into the touch, feeling his muscles ease and relax, tension leaving as quickly as it came.
A warm, tingly blush reappeared on Remus’s cheeks, and a smile spread across his face as he laughed lightly.
Sirius relaxed into a smile, lowering himself back down to Remus’s lap. He took a scarred hand into his own and fiddled with his fingers as he chatted peacefully.
Remus listened to Sirius, his fluid, velvet voice wrapping him in the tightest of hugs. The lovesick man watched his oh so pretty mouth form different shapes with each syllable, and for not the first time that day- or the last- Remus ached to feel it pressed to his own.
Sirius laughed at something Peter said, something Remus had missed because he was rather preoccupied, and the sound was like gentle wind chimes, clinking under a cool, salty, sea breeze.
He rested his head on the tree, facing up at the leaves.
And he met James’s eye.
Potter grinned to Moony, glancing down to Sirius and back up at him. He sent Remus a secretive wink.
Remus frowned, because what on Earth does Prongs have to be winking about.
James grinned wider, recoiling into the tree, before dropping to the ground a second later.
“I regret having to interrupt the lovers- and Pete- but we really should be heading back, now.”
Remus made an undignified squawk at his jab, but Sirius dutifully ignored the comment, and stood with an effortless movement.
He offered his hand to Remus, with a small smile. Remus returned it.
Bracing the ground and tree, and sending up a quick prayer, the lanky man hurled himself onto asleep limbs. He gripped Sirius’s hand with all his might as he waited for his head rush to dissipate.
The four walked across the grass, using the last drops of dim light to navigate the ground. They were among the few groups of students enjoying the final moments of their Saturday, before the looming school week arrived.
James and Peter were babbling away about a topic that Remus didn’t have the mind to pay attention to. Not when his fingers were slotted between Sirius’s, and their bodies brushed with every flicker of a breath.
Sirius traced his thumb over the back of Remus’s palm, making his head spin wonderfully.
“You two would make quite a good couple, you know,” Peter said loudly. He and James were wearing matching grins, obviously thinking they were being comedians.
“Shut it Worm,” Sirius spat, though no malice laced his voice. He rolled his eyes and turned to Remus with a warm smile. “Idiots,” he whispered.
But he didn’t drop Remus’s hand. Not when they reached the castle and walked the busy halls, not when they reached the common room and sat in front of the crackling fire, not when they eventually went to dinner and had to rest their joint hands on the bench after almost knocking over a pot of tea, not for the rest of the evening.
Remus almost thought he’d never let go.
And he was okay with that.