And of the Unspoken
It’s later still that the confession evolves.
They’re lying down on their sides, both on the same pillow, facing each other. It’s Remus’s bed, not that it matters – but it is. James and Peter are asleep, have been for some time.
Neither of them know. Nobody does. Tonight was supposed to be about getting to wake up together for once, but they both know what every night this month has really been about.
They could wait longer – should, even. But they have enough secrets as it is, and hiding something so big from their closest friends hits a little too close to home for Remus. Sirius is mostly tired, but he can see the silence never really went away, just shifted from between them to around them, and he hates it.
They’re both done waiting.
“I’m nervous.”
“Me too.”
But their hands are entwined, and the message is clear.
Not you. I’m not nervous because of you .
They’re getting closer, shuffling under the covers – even though Remus will whine in the morning that he was too hot to sleep properly, and Sirius will complain about his hair being tangled. Their foreheads touch, and a shiver runs through them both. A sigh comes from one of them, which one a detail neither cares to catalog.
Their nerves melt into the chill air of the night.
Tomorrow, James will scream bloody murder to whomever left the window open all night. Tomorrow, Peter will tease Sirius about not snoring so much when he hasn’t drunk the whole House under. Tomorrow, they will both learn why that is.
Tomorrow, the waiting ends.
But tonight, Sirius falls asleep while Remus nuzzles his nose. Tonight, Remus relaxes, feels the looming threat of the next full moon hide behind his companion’s closed eyelids.
Tonight, the silence eases, gives way to the comfortable quiet that is Sirius and Remus .
In the bed next to them, James tries his best not to cry, and he hopes he is ready. Hopes he was right to tell Sirius this morning, on behalf of their little group, on behalf of their family.
‘We can wait for you.’