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Chapter Text

This part is dedicated to life.

To the air we breathe,

To the water that flows,

To the birds in the sky,

To the love we feel.

Chapter Text

"Dumbledore, please."

Remus Lupin was pleading. Despite having handed in his resignation last year, he was back at Hogwarts, unbeknownst to Harry Potter or any other student sitting in the classes right at this moment. He had known that long-term employment at Hogwarts would be nothing more than a nice dream, especially if Severus Snape had access to his biggest secret and made sure that the whole world now knew, too. But Remus wasn't pleading about that. He had resigned by his own free will, and he still didn't have any regrets. When Harry had asked, Remus had told him half the truth: that parents wouldn't want someone like him to teach their children. The other half of the truth, however, was what Remus was in the Headmaster's office about.

"He's out there on his own," Remus said.

Sirius Black. For years, Remus had been left to believe that he had been the one responsible for his friends' deaths. For years, Remus had tried to overcome the feelings that he had harboured for the man since their schooldays. For twelve whole years, Remus had failed to do so. And then at the end of last term, the truth had been uncovered, the real murderer had been found, and Sirius had fled. Sirius wasn't by any means free yet, but Remus hadn't let that stop him from going to find him and giving him shelter, even if he was putting himself in danger by doing so.

The only problem was Albus Dumbledore. After Harry's entrance in the Triwizard Tournament, Sirius had come back here. Remus didn't know where exactly he was, but he knew he hadn't gone far from school grounds - he would want to be as close to his godson as possible. Albus Dumbledore, whether he knew anything about the fugitive's whereabouts or not, was refusing to let Remus take him in. The reason for that was a mystery to Remus. Besides, they weren't in school anymore. Dumbledore had lost the right to control their lives the minute they had graduated from Hogwarts. However, Remus had had to come to see him because if there was only a sliver of hope that Dumbledore knew where Sirius was, he had to seize the opportunity to find out. He owed Sirius that much.

"Remus, I can assure you he is safe," Dumbledore said. He was wearing this infuriatingly calm smile on his lips, making Remus narrow his eyes more and more.

They hadn't seen each other for twelve years, and Remus had believed Sirius to be a traitor and a murderer. And Sirius had had to sit in a cell in Azkaban for twelve years, knowing full well that Remus, the last Marauder, had abandoned him. That was a guilt Remus would have to live with for the rest of his life. That one night in the Shrieking Shack wouldn't make up for that, and neither would letting Sirius live with him, but Remus had to try at least. He had to try.

"With all due respect, Dumbledore," Remus pressed out and, just barely holding back the "which is none," he said, "nowhere is more safe for him than my place."

People had thought him the smartest of the Marauders, but to tell the truth, Remus wasn't sure if having Sirius stay with him was the best idea he'd ever had. Where would he even start the conversation that he was inevitably going to have with Sirius? What would he say? There were so many things Remus wanted to say - things that had been burning on his tongue for years even before Halloween 1981; things he had tried to forget first for the sake of their friendship, then for the sake of his sanity. So, really, how fast did he want to have that conversation with Sirius?

Dumbledore was smiling now, making Remus's blood boil more and more second by second. How was he so calm about this? How could he sit by and let Sirius be roaming around all alone? Had he no heart? No compassion? Sure, he had believed Remus and the three kids when they had told him of Sirius's innocence, but that just wasn't enough. Not handing an innocent man over to the Dementors and leaving said innocent man to fend for himself were worlds apart. The one didn't excuse the other. It just wasn't enough. He had to do more than this. He had to do better.

"All in due time, Remus," the old wizard said, still smiling, his eyes crinkling behind his half-moon spectacles.

"What is that supposed to mean, Sir?" Remus bit out, bordering furious now. He was done with this coversation, done with the man across from him, done with this whole situation. Months had passed, and Dumbledore had sat by for long enough, had watched the events unfold before him for long enough. Remus was just short of reaching across the desk to grab the Headmaster by the collar and make him talk.

Finally, Dumbledore dropped his smile and let out a sigh. Finally, there was real emotion visible in his eyes, not just this facade of calmness and indifference. It was refreshing and a bit of a relief to see that neither Harry's nor Sirius's situation left Dumbledore unaffected. Finally, Remus could release the tension in his shoulders and sigh, too.

"I understand your concern, Remus," Dumbledore said, stressing the verb as if to show that understanding his concern wasn't enough to ease it. But having his concern understood didn't help Remus. "And I did think over your proposal for the past few months."

A few months was an understatement. Ever since that night in June last year, for eight months to be exact, Remus had sent letter after letter, Howler after Howler first to Sirius, then to Dumbledore, the man who seemed to be in charge of everything that didn't concern him. Those eight months had been filled with nothing but remorse and longing and sadness. There was hope lingering somewhere in a small chamber in Remus's heart - a hope he had thought to have extinguished long ago, but here it was again, bursting to life like a dying flame touching gasoline.

"Did you come to a conclusion, then?" Remus asked, sliding to the edge of his seat. He hoped so. He hoped and hoped, clinging onto that little rope like a lifeline.

There was a smile on Dumbledore's lips again, but this time, it wasn't painful for Remus to see. This smile felt like a hand releasing the grip on his heart, allowing it to beat calmly and freely again. "He has agreed to leave school grounds to come and live with you."

That statement made Remus frown, and the hand holding his heart clenched a little tighter. Had Dumbledore's refusal not even been the reason why Sirius hadn't come to live with Remus sooner? Had it been Sirius's? Had Dumbledore suggested it to him as soon as Remus had asked for the first time, but Sirius had been hesitant? Had the reason for that been the closeness to Harry... or the distance to Remus? So what had changed?

For a moment, Remus didn't know what to say. Were his doubts reasonable, or was really Dumbledore responsible for this situation? Maybe Sirius wasn't even avoiding Remus. He had certainly looked happy to see him in the Shrieking Shack. "When... When did he say that?" was all Remus could think of asking.

"Last night," Dumbledore replied.

Last night? "So you knew where he was all along?"

There it was again: the fake smile, so far from the truth like Dumbledore himself. It made Remus angry no matter how hard he tried to stay calm and unbothered. But it was just so much easier to direct his anger at the man in front of him than at his illusions about the friend Remus had had to miss for too many years.

The old man nodded but didn't drop his smile. "He'll be there on Thursday night."

Two days. That gave Remus two days to get his flat and himself ready. His heart was beating fast again, and when he reached Hogsmeade not long after, he had to take a moment to stem his hands on his knees and breathe. "Breathe," he whispered to himself. A fear was gripping him, tightening around his throat and his heart like a vice. He hadn't spent a moment alone with Sirius in over twelve years. If it had been the case that Sirius had been the one to hesitate about living with Remus, maybe it hadn't been so unfounded. If that had been the case, then Remus really couldn't be cross with him about that.

He came home in a state of disarray, and as soon as the door was closed behind him, Remus started whipping his wand through the air like a madman. He moved furniture around and back to its original place, washed every item of clothing he owned and rearranged his entire closet despite being sure that Sirius would never see nor care. It took Remus two days, and by Thursday evening, he still wasn't satisfied. His flat was suddenly too small, too humble, too... poor. The sofa wasn't comfortable enough, the guest room wasn't big enough, and despite Remus having gone shopping, the kitchen wasn't stocked enough.

And then the doorbell rang. And Remus's heart stopped for a beat before starting up again at high-speed. He moved through his living room like in a trance, almost bumping into the coffee table that he hadn't pushed back into its original place because he actually liked it better where it was now. Remus felt his fingers shaking, so he balled his hands into fists and only let go when he reached for the doorknob. Turning it, Remus opened the door.

The smile on Sirius's lips made him seem younger, healthier, untouched by twelve years of horror and pain. That smile was the very gasoline that ignited the hope inside Remus's heart, setting his entire body on fire.

"Hi," he said.

Chapter Text

"Hi," Sirius replied.

They were both smiling carefully, testing the waters. This greeting wasn't as hectic, as filled with excited reunion as the one in the Shrieking Shack. After so many years, it was hard to just fall right back into the way they had acted around each other when they had been younger. They used to joke and laugh, teasing each other with inappropriate jokes or downright dirty insinuations. But those times were over. Too much had happened between then and now, too much time had been spent apart.

It took Remus a few moments to realise that he was supposed to let Sirius in now. Into his flat. For the very first time. He opened the door a little more, letting his old friend through. As Sirius stepped past him and into the flat, Remus looked him up and down. If he had thought Sirius could not have looked more unhealthy and dirty upon their first encounter, then he had been mistaken. The man was barely more than skin and bones now, his dirt- and rain-soaked clothes hanging from his limbs as if they belonged to a person way bigger than him. As his dark eyes rushed around the living room, taking in the unfamiliar furniture and lingering on the three picture frames on the mantelpiece, Remus noticed how deep they were in their sockets, how cracked his lips were and how  pronounced his cheekbones.

His once so handsome friend had transformed into this shell of a man, so thin, so broken. Yet when he opened his mouth, the voice that spoke was the same as back then - just as sure of himself and as confident. If Remus closed his eyes, he could almost pretend they weren't old now and that his friend wasn't sickly-looking. He could pretend they were still children a Hogwarts - carefree, stupid, happy. "So where do I sleep, Moony?"

Remus blinked, a little startled at the nickname he had used to hear so often but which was now so unfamiliar to him. But in Sirius's voice, it sounded right - even more so than his real name. In Sirius's voice, Remus would rather be Moony than Remus. His lips curled into a smile all on their own. It was like a reflex; hearing his nickname again like this made him smile. "Follow me," he said and started to walk.

Sirius followed him so silently that Remus had to turn around to make sure he was still there. He supposed that with less weight, Sirius was now lighter on his feet, and he had probably had to do a lot of sneaking around in the past year after his escape from Azkaban. Remus opened the door to the guest room and stepped back to give Sirius a clear view of the room and to give him access to step in if he wished to. Nervously, Remus absently lifted his hand to his mouth and started to bite his nails, watching the expression on Sirius's hollowed face.

When Sirius turned around, his faint smile widened, and he wrapped his fingers around Remus's hand to stop him from chewing his nails off. "You're still doing that?" he asked.

It was true; back at Hogwarts, Remus had been so annoyed with his nervous habit of biting his nails that he had told Sirius to slap him every time he did it. After a while, all three of the Marauders had joined in, desperate to keep Remus's nails whole and the back of his hand burning and red. Lily had had to tell them one too many times that this method was no good, but she had given up complaining faster than the Marauders had given up slapping Remus. Only after a few years had his habit slowly subsided. It was at this time that he had grown even closer to Sirius, and apparently, that had calmed his nerves down a little. Then the war had started, his nerves had been on an all-time high, and he had started again, sometimes so much that his fingers even started to bleed as he picked at the skin around his nails. Only after Halloween 1981 had he stopped completely. Every time the urge had taken him, he had been reminded of the good old times when his friends had been there to stop him. It was curious that he was doing it now.

"Sorry," Remus mumbled, quickly taking his hand out of Sirius's gentle grasp and averting his eyes so he didn't have to see his friend's reaction.

But there was a smile in Sirius's voice when he replied, "Don't apologise to me. You're the one who hated it."

Remus only nodded but didn't say anything more. He didn't know what there was to say. "Is the room okay?" he asked instead. "It's too small, isn't it? You can have my room. The bed there isn't much bigger, but the closet is, and the window there -"

"Moony, it's perfect," Sirius broke him off, which finally made Remus look up at him, and their eyes met. Despite the rest of his face having changed so much, those eyes were still the very same. They were just as dark and deep, and they looked upon Remus just as softly as they had all those years ago. Sirius was still beautiful, Remus realised. He was too skinny now, too malnourished, but he had those features of perfection that even starvation couldn't destroy. His nose was still straight and perfect, and his chin was still strong even if Sirius wasn't raising it in his cocky manner anymore, and his lips and jaw were hidden behind a dark scrubby beard. His hair had always been long and beautiful, but now it was almost too long, looked unkempt like a stray dog's fur, and had accumulated a lot of dirt.

"Do you want to take a bath?" Remus asked when his eyes fell on a leaf stuck in a curl behind Sirius's ear, and he quickly plucked it out to show it to its owner.

Sirius nodded, and his expression was so unfamiliar to Remus that he couldn't even begin to decipher it; it was somewhere between amusement and apprehension, or maybe there was a little sadness in there, too? Only when he opened the door to the bathroom right across from Sirius's room did he realise that his friend hadn't carried a bag with him and therefore didn't possess a change of clothes or anything else for that matter. Of course not, Remus thought to himself. It wasn't as if they allowed prisoners to keep any of their personal belongings, and a man on the run could hardly make use of a whole wardrobe.

"You can wear my clothes for now," Remus told him, making sure that it didn't sound like the afterthought it had been. He didn't want Sirius to feel bad about not having anything with him. "Then we'll get you something more to your taste."

A slight nod was all he got in response before he slipped out of the bathroom and hurried into his own bedroom. Quickly, he scanned through the clothes he possessed, suddenly glad for having washed and organised them just the day before. He crinkled his nose as he pulled out a jumper and a pair of pyjama bottoms that he was sure Sirius would hate but maybe less so than the rest of the clothes he had to offer.

Back in the bathroom, the tub was almost filled with water, the bath foam inching slowly but steadily closer to the edge. Sirius didn't turn to look at Remus when he came back with the clothes in his arm; he was only watching the water with intense eyes. Remus set the clothes down on a little cabinet and took out two towels - one for Sirius's body, one for his hair. He threw one quick glance at the man standing on his white rug, frozen still, looking terribly out of place in this clean, bright bathroom.

With a sigh, Remus looked away again and moved back to the door. "Take your time," he said, reaching for the door handle. "I'll have dinner ready when you're done."

He was about to take the step into the hallway when Sirius's soft voice stopped him. "Don't go." He was almost whispering, his voice tugging at something inside Remus that he had thought to have died the same day as his friends. "Stay with me."

Sirius still hadn't turned to him, and he still wasn't looking away from the foam dancing on the surface of the water, but his tone was urgent and almost desperate. It was enough to make Remus take a step back into the room and pull the door closed with him. It was enough to make him turn around and consider his friend. The bathroom was too silent, making room for too many thoughts, too many memories. It was almost too much for Remus, but then Sirius finally turned.

His face was so familiar yet not. Those harsh lines in his face were completely new to Remus, but what was even more so was the look in his eyes. Sirius seemed - for the first time since Remus had known him - ashamed. "I'm not beautiful anymore, Moony," he said, his voice rough as he tried to hold back the emotions. "I'm hideous."

Remus couldn't help but smile. His heart was breaking at the words his best friend was saying, at the voice he was using to say them with, and at the eyes that filled with tears. Despite that, he had to smile and shake his head as he stepped closer to Sirius. "Don't be stupid, Padfoot," he breathed, enjoying the feeling of the nickname on his tongue. He hadn't said it in too long.

Without another word said, Sirius got undressed. It was remarkable how slowly, yet how quickly they got into their old patterns. Back at school, Remus had seen Sirius naked plenty of times. The boy had never liked clothes, especially not in the mornings when he could instead torture the Marauders with his nudity. James had screamed louder than any of them, and one time, Lily had come in to see if everything was alright. When her eyes had fallen on Sirius's bare ass, she had covered her eyes with her hands and stormed backwards out of the room, screaming as well and slamming the door behind herself.

So, really, this should be nothing special to Remus. Only it was. They weren't in school anymore, and this time, they were alone - James and Peter weren't there to make things less uncomfortable. They were different people than back then, both Remus and Sirius. And this wasn't just some undressing in order to annoy Remus or because Sirius was tired of wearing his school robes. This was something entirely different altogether: he was revealing himself to Remus in his most vulnerable form. Sirius was showing Remus who and what he had become, who and what the last years had made him.

And what they had made him was... thin. He was so thin that Remus could count all of his ribs. In Azkaban, he had been branded with tattoos on his chest, and Remus couldn't help but remember that Sirius had always wanted tattoos. It filled him with sadness to think that these weren't the kinds of tattoos Sirius had wished for or expected to ever have, and he felt a deep regret when he remembered that James and he had told Sirius not to get one in case he would grow to hate it when he turned older. If only they had gone with him to get one... If only they hadn't been so sure they had all the time in the world to grow old and hate tattoos...

"You're beautiful," Remus breathed out, then pressed his lips together and widened his eyes when he realised what he had said. He hadn't meant to say those words out loud, but he couldn't help himself. Sirius was thin, yes, but he was still Sirius and still beautiful. It was hard for Remus to imagine that this man would ever not be beautiful to him.

Huffing a soft laugh, Sirius stepped into the bathtub and submerged beneath the foam until Remus could only see him from the shoulders upward. He let out a sigh of relief as his body visibly relaxed in the warmth of the water, and his eyes fluttered shut for a moment. Remus took the time to gather himself, and he sat down on the soft rug in front of the bathtub next to where Sirius had discarded his dirty clothes. He was eyeing him carefully while the other man still had his eyes closed - Remus didn't want Sirius to think that he was staring.

When the man sunk even lower under the surface and dipped the back of his head in, the water turned a shade of brown as the dirt mixed with it. Sirius lifted his two hands out of the water and ran his fingers through his hair, carefully untangling it and staining the water even more. The black tendrils were flowing around his face, making him look like a beautiful painting. Seeing that Sirius was opening his eyes again, Remus quickly averted his own and reached for the shampoo bottle instead. He could feel his friend's eyes on him even when he wasn't looking, and he kept avoiding his eyes even as he squirted some of the shampoo into Sirius's hair.

The bathroom was filled with complete silence save the sound of the water with every movement Sirius was making as he was massaging the shampoo into the mass of his long hair. Remus's lips were parted a little, and he was taking slow and unsteady breaths in and out through his mouth. He couldn't stop looking at the man in front of him, at the way the tips of his fingers vanished into his hair, and the shampoo was foaming more and more on top of his head. He didn't know if he should say something or if silence was just what Sirius wanted. What would he say anyway? Smalltalk was barely appropriate, and everything else was hardly a conversation to be had while Sirius was naked in front of him in the bathtub. So Remus opted for silence and was glad that Sirius chose to do the same.

Only when Sirius was done and wrapped in a towel did he break the silence. "I think I should cut the beard," he contemplated out loud, absently thouching two fingers to the black hair sprouting from his chin.

Remus smiled and shrugged. "If you want, I can do it for you."

The eyes that had become so empty and dark started to widen and sparkle when they looked up at Remus's face. The rest of his face was still set in grim lines, but the eyes... they didn't lie. "You would?"

The tone of surprise made Remus smile even more. He nodded and sat down on the closed toilet lid, pulling a little stool closer to him. "Of course," he said, already reaching for the razor.

Sirius hesitated for a moment before sitting down on the stool, his shoulders raising a little so he was on eye-level with Remus, who was sitting higher on the toilet. Their eyes met again, and Remus quickly looked away. He tapped the magical razor with his wand and softly set the blade to Sirius's prominent cheekbone. From there, he gently pushed the blade through the dark beard, watching the hair disappear beneath it, showing more skin inch by inch.

After a few minutes of very careful, very silent shaving, Remus held his breath. He could see Sirius's lips again, and they were stretched into a crooked smile. "Well?" they asked. "How does it look?"

Remus's eyes rushed across the face he could now fully see, more skinny than before, but also more beautiful. This was Sirius. When their eyes found each other this time, Remus didn't look away. He held Sirius's gaze, and for a moment, he forgot that they were who they were now. All on its own, Remus's mouth opened for him to say something, and Sirius tore his eyes away to look down at the parting lips.

But Remus didn't say anything. The moment had passed, and he was filled with sudden fear and shock. He cleared his throat, pressed his lips together, and got up. "You look good, Padfoot," was all he said without even looking at him but instead busying his hands by putting the razor back to where it was. "Get dressed. I'll make dinner."

And with that, he left his best friend in the world sitting alone on the little stool in his bathroom, covered by nothing more than a towel around his waist and one around his shoulders. Leaning against the closed door, Remus let out a deep breath.

Chapter Text

Whipping his wand up and down, left and right, moving utensils and ingredients, Remus was standing at the stove, cooking up the most delicious stew he'd ever made. He was slightly proud of himself as he taste-tested his way through every step of the meal, and the smile on his lips grew wider by the minute. He hoped he could make Sirius just as happy with the food or at least lift his spirits a little.

A clearing of a throat made Remus turn around, and the sight before him made him almost drop his spoon. The smile on his face had grown so wide that his cheeks were now hurting, and when he took a step back, he felt the heat of the stove against his back and stepped away again lest he would burn himself. Barely holding back a laugh, Remus put the cooking spoon aside. "You look -"

Sirius's face turned disgruntled, but the effect of the expression and the way he said, "Don't you dare laugh, Moony," was diminished by the overly large maroon jumper he was wearing, so large that the neckline was low enough to reveal both of his collarbones and one side almost slipped off his shoulder. Paired with his freshly washed hair that was falling in soft black curls over his shoulders and the way his hands were hidden inside the sleeves was a sight that Remus would never forget. Though Remus had always been taller than Sirius, he guessed that now, he was bigger as well, owing to the years of good food Remus had and Sirius hadn't had. But Remus was determined to change that: he made it his personal mission to nourish his friend back to health.

He tried his very best not to choke on a laugh when he said, "I can give you something else if you like."

"I don't want anything else," Sirius mumbled. He hid his hands even deeper in the soft red fabric of the sleeves and used one of them to pull up the sweater on his shoulder. "This smells like Moony."

The unspoken "I haven't smelled you in a long time" was hanging in the air, making Remus's smile drop a little but not fully. He turned halfway back to the stove and gave the stew one last stir before whipping his wand at the pot and levitating it over to the small dining table where two plates were already waiting. Sirius got the hint without Remus having to tell him, so he hovered over to the table, hesitating before pulling out his chair and sitting down. Remus watched him with a slight frown but didn't say anything.

Sirius, more like a dog than anyone Remus had ever met, was behaving now more than ever like a cat. He was shy and jumpy, his eyes darting around the room as if he was waiting for someone - something - to jump at him. Remus wondered how long it had taken for the Dementors to train that look onto Sirius's face, and he wondered how long it would take for him to get rid of it again. The Dementors might not have broken Sirius's spirit, but they had forced it so deep inside of him that it only dared to come to light in certain situations like, for example, when confronting the traitor Peter, speaking to Harry or... watching Remus bite his nails.

They ate together in silence, Sirius's gaze fixed on his bowl of food, and Remus's fixed on Sirius. There was so much to say, but Remus didn't dare to break the silence first. He didn't know how to start the conversation he had avoided for more than fifteen years, especially now that other things were just so much more important.

So, instead, when Sirius helped himself to a second bowl of stew, Remus watched him with a smile and asked, "How's Harry doing?"

Sirius's godson seemed to be a safe topic to speak about even if Sirius was of the opinion that his pure presence in Remus's apartment equalled him leaving Harry behind. Remus resented that opinion and hoped that bringing the boy up wouldn't make Sirius change his mind about staying. He wouldn't be able to stand knowing that his friend was all alone in that cave again, especially now that he knew what it had been doing to him. Also, Remus couldn't imagine letting Sirius go now that he had him back. It had taken them so long to get back into a room together, just the two of them, and Remus wouldn't give that up without a fight. He shouldn't have let Sirius go in the first place, but he had been a refugee after all, and Remus had been a werewolf that night, so there had been no chance to hold him up or even go with him. Would Remus have gone with him?

Only after shoving a spoonful of stew into his mouth and biting off a piece of bun while still chewing, Sirius nodded, swallowed, and smiled. "He's okay," he answered, but Remus knew that even if Harry wasn't okay, he wouldn't have let on just how much. Harry would do anything to prevent his godfather from worrying too much or from doing something stupid like marching into the school, wand poised, demanding to let Harry out of the Tournament. "He's still a kid," Sirius continued. "He shouldn't have to go through this."

"Through all of this," Remus agreed with a nod, filling his own bowl again. "He deserves some peace." After a few seconds of silence in which Remus contemplated saying the words he was about to say next, he put his spoon down, making Sirius look up at him, his own spoon halfway to his mouth. "And so do you," Remus added.

Sirius sank his spoon again and let his hand hover right above his half-eaten bowl of stew. "Don't start, Moony," was all he said, but his eyes were saying so much more. They dared Remus to bring up the topic, begged him not to say anything at all that could disturb this peace they had established. But Remus knew better. This wasn't peace. This was just silence. Tiptoeing around the past, trying to avoid whatever could break the dam holding back memories and emotions and feelings they had suppressed for so long. For too long.

"Sirius, we have to -"

"No, we don't," Sirius stopped him, finally letting his spoon drop into the bowl so he could bring both of his hands up to his face and rub his eyes with his knuckles. "Please, Remus, can we not?"

The voice was so desperate that Remus, not wanting to upset him any further, sighed and nodded despite Sirius being unable to see him. "Fine," he said then, "we won't. But we will have to -"

"Not today," interrupted the other man. "Please. Not today."

Remus nodded once again and, hesitantly, reached across the table. He softly wrapped his fingers around Sirius's fist and felt the man stiffen at his touch. Breathing hard, hoping he hadn't done anything wrong, Remus removed Sirius's hand from his face. Their eyes met as Sirius dropped his other hand as well, and they looked at each other for seconds that felt like years, both barely breathing. And then, all of a sudden, as if both of them realised at the same time that what they were doing was too familiar, too much like the old days, they let go of each other as if burnt. Remus pulled his hand back into his lap and kept it there, not even lifting it to continue eating. Sirius picked up his spoon again, but for the remainder of dinner, he didn't move his gaze away from his bowl.

When they went to bed, they opened the neighbouring doors at the same time, muttering a "good night" under their breaths before closing the doors behind themselves. Remus closed his eyes for a moment, his hand still on the door handle, and rested his forehead against the cold wooden door. He felt like crying and screaming, felt angry and sad at the same time, but he didn't know why, so he just stood there, waiting for an emotion that made sense.

There was something so odd about going to bed knowing that Sirius was in the next room, probably also lying in bed, probably also thinking the same thing. Remus assumed that it would take him quite a while to get used to that, but he didn't mind as long as that meant he would have Sirius there for quite a while. He barely slept that night. Instead, he stayed awake tossing and turning, thinking over what he should have said before and what he would say the next day and the days after that. Out of the Marauders, Remus had been the one most comfortable with talking about emotions and feelings, and once you got Sirius and James started, they wouldn't stop either. But now, it felt as if there was this impenetrable wall between them, preventing them from talking about anything in case it would break them.

Sometime in the middle of the night, when everything was dark and quiet and peaceful, Remus could hear soft whimpers that built and built in volume until Sirius cried out and then stilled completely. Unable to make his body move, Remus only lay there, straining his ears to detect just the slightest sign of unease from next door, but there was none. Remus wondered what it had been that had pried this heartbreaking noise from Sirius's lips and whether he should have gone to check on him, but he didn't know if he was still in the position to sneak to Sirius's bedside and whisper to him if everything was alright like he used to.

At Hogwarts, had Sirius had a bad dream, Remus had always woken up because the sound of unrest shook him to his core even in sleep. Sometimes, Remus would have woken up to the sight of James kneeling next to Sirius's bed, or sometimes the two boys would have already been whispering beneath James's blanket. But other times, James would have been sound asleep, and Remus would sneak to the bed across from his, and Sirius would smile up at him, wrap his arms around his waist, and drag Remus into bed with him. Once Remus had become aware that his feelings for Sirius were more than just feelings of friendship, he had stopped himself from going over, but that had only resulted in Sirius climbing into Remus's bed instead. Nothing had ever been able to keep the two boys apart. Oh, how much had changed...

The next morning, Remus couldn't even tell if he had slept for ten minutes or longer or not at all. His eyelids were heavy as he dragged open the curtains, letting the oddly bright winter sun blind him. He sighed - a deep, heavy sigh coming right from his soul - and stepped out of his room. The flat was quiet, which worried Remus just a little, but he didn't think too much of it since Sirius was probably still asleep, considering the uneasy night he'd had.

He got to work in the kitchen, moving onto phase two of feeding his friend until he looked his old self again. Eggs, sausage, hashbrowns, some cucumber, and some carrot sticks. It didn't take long for Remus to finish whipping up the breakfast, but Sirius still hadn't shown himself yet. This struck Remus as unusual, but then again, he had no idea what was usual for Sirius anymore. At school, his dog nose must have developed some special sense just for food: had Sirius caught only as much as a whiff of breakfast being served all the way in the Great Hall, he had jumped out of bed even faster than when Peter would try to wake him with a bucket of ice water. Now, though, all Remus could hear when he pressed his ear to Sirius's door was a soft snore that was so familiar that when Remus opened the door, he half expected to find sixteen-year-old Sirius slumbering in bed.

He was, of course, not sixteen, but asleep and wrapped in a blanket, he looked shockingly like it. Remus could not see the emptiness in his eyes for they were shut, the long black eyelashes resting on flushed cheeks. With his beard gone, his jawline was prominent again, striking as ever, and in the dark room, his cheeks didn't look so hollowed out. Sirius's thin body was hidden beneath the blanket, and only two arms were sticking out. Now that the dirt had been soaked out from under the fingernails, Sirius's hands were as delicate and beautiful as Remus remembered them.

It took him admittedly too long to take a step toward the bed. He didn't want to disturb the peaceful sleep into which his friend seemed to have fallen, but the breakfast would get burned if he left it on the stove for much longer. Very hesitantly, Remus reached out his hand and found with a shock that his fingers were trembling. He needed to pull himself together before Sirius would think something to be up with him. Remus didn't want Sirius to worry, and he most certainly didn't want him to ask any questions. So he curled his fingers into a fist, squeezing tight for a second before exhaling and reaching for the sleeping man again.

Without Remus even having to whisper his name, Sirius startled awake only at the soft touch of Remus's fingers against his arm. He blinked once, twice, three times, very obviously trying to sort his thoughts in order to figure out where he was and why Remus was standing over him.

"I made breakfast," Remus proclaimed, then winced at how stupid he sounded.

"Breakfast?" Sirius asked, and there he was: the sixteen year old boy whose black eyes lit up at the sound of the word, his beautiful lips cracking into a smile that he didn't seem familiar with anymore, but Remus was. Remus remembered that smile like he would remember his mother's voice forever or the smell of the Gryffindor common room. Remus had loved that smile for so, so many years. "You take such good care of me, Moony."

And there he was: sixteen-year-old Remus, who rolled his eyes at the unnecessarily charming tone in Sirius's voice and the way his lips formed when he said the nickname. "Alright, come on," he said, snatching the blanket like he used to. "Get up before it gets burned."

Chapter Text

Sirius knew what Remus was thinking. He knew that Remus knew that "breakfast" used to be the word to get Sirius out of bed and into a good mood. This was why, when Sirius realised that it had worked once again after so many years, his heart clenched and an aching pain flashed through his chest. Sirius also knew that Remus knew that he was feeling uncomfortable. The thing was, however, that Sirius wasn't uncomfortable with the apartment or with Remus. Moony had done everything perfectly: he was giving Sirius space, but he was still there. He wasn't overwhelming him with questions, and the food he was making was better than Sirius thought he deserved. Sirius was solely uncomfortable with himself for being, well... uncomfortable.

During breakfast, he couldn't help but remember. He remembered it all: the morning showers in Gryffindor Tower (which had always been cold for Sirius because everyone else had already used up the hot water), the breakfasts at the Gryffindor table, the classes, the people. Sirius remembered the way it all had ended: in a fest of joy that had cut through the horror that had been going on at the time. He remembered Lily and James, so happy together, and Peter, so happy to be with them. Sirius gritted his teeth at the taste of bile rising up his throat at the memory of that traitor. He clenched his fists at the memory of the Marauders in the Potters' living room, handing around the newborn baby. He clenched his fists so tightly that he dropped the fork with a loud clatter, which pulled him out of his reminiscence.

Remus was already flicking his wand and cleaned up the mess in a second. Sirius blinked at him but quickly looked away before their eyes could meet. There was something he wanted to say, but his lips seemed to have forgotten how to speak words. He was a grown man, for goodness sake! Why did he feel like a child, then? Why did he feel like the same scared little boy he had been when he had ended up on James's doorstep? Why couldn't he just... speak?

"Are you alright?" Remus's careful voice broke through Sirius's thoughts again.

There wasn't a clear answer to that question in Sirius's head. No, he most certainly was not alright. He had Dementors living in his head, could see them anytime he closed his eyes, hear their rattling breath in every silent second. With every movement, he could feel his joints painfully rubbing together - bone against bone with no flesh in between. He had this nauseating feeling in his stomach because he was hungry, but he couldn't eat too much because he got sick very quickly, which resulted in him never eating enough to really sate his hunger. He was tired - couldn't even remember the last time he had slept for a whole night - but he didn't dare sleep lest his nightmares came to haunt him. He was sick with worry for Harry, who was just a little boy signed up against his will for one of the deadliest competitions ever.

But despite that, Sirius was alright. Who was he to complain, really? He had everything he needed now. He had an actual bed now, not just a rock in a cave that he could use as a pillow. He had his best friend in the whole world back - the man Sirius had thought might hate him the most, but he had him back, and he was as beautiful as the day they had separated. Remus was making him food, that, despite Sirius not being able to eat much, was so good that he couldn't make himself stop even if he should. So, to say that he was not alright would be ungrateful.

This inner conflict seemed to tear Sirius apart from the inside out. This simple question, which Sirius was sure wasn't meant to cause any harm, was making him doubt himself. He wasn't unaware of the irony of Remus - the most self-conscious and shy boy at Hogwarts - making Sirius - the flamboyant ponytail-nail-polish prince of Gryffindor - doubt himself. Yet here they were, and they weren't the same people they had once been. Remus was still shy, but he was a grown-up now. He had grown into his furry little problem and wasn't ashamed of it anymore. Sirius - Well, Sirius didn't have his hair pulled back into a ponytail anymore, he had clawed his nail polish off on the walls of his cell, and all the flamboyance he had once owned was somewhere so deep down beneath all the angst and scars that he didn't even know where to begin to look for it.

"Sirius?" Remus's voice seemed to come from somewhere very far away or as if Sirius was underwater. That feeling was only strengthened by Sirius's realisation that he couldn't breathe. "Padfoot?"

The nickname finally made Sirius blink and gasp for air, and he felt the tears prickling in his eyes. Reflex pulled him to his feet with such a force that his chair toppled backwards but regained its balance in the last second. Sirius, however, felt lightheaded as if he himself were to collapse at any second.

Remus's wide eyes met his and Sirius couldn't take it anymore. "I -" He staggered backwards. "I need a moment." As he was already turning away, clutching his chest, he could hear his friend move, so he said, "Don't follow me," without looking back.

Glad to find that Remus still wasn't behind him even when he opened the door to his new room, Sirius stepped in and tried to take a deep breath, which never came. He tried again and again but only ended up gasping in vain. His throat seemed to have closed up on him, clogged with emotions that were building tears in his eyes. His chest had declared war, refusing to give him any air and creating a mounting pain. Sirius felt frustration welling up inside of him, and were he alone in his cave, he would have let out a screm. But he couldn't do that now. Remus was in the next room, and he was sure to be sick with concern already.

Somehow - he didn't even know how - Sirius found himself in his new bed, which was too soft in comparison to the frozen ground Sirius had slept on for the past few months. He curled himself into a ball, making himself as small as humanly possible, and buried his face in the pillow, which smelled like Remus's laundry detergent and somehow managed to calm him down. He finally took his first full breath, a feeling of relief filling him from the inside out. The breath he let out was shaky and hurt his throat.

Sirius didn't know how long he was lying there in his bed on top of the covers, still dressed in Remus's jumper, holding his sleeved hand up to his face so he could keep breathing in the lingering smell of his best friend, which was already fading with every minute Sirius was wearing it. Despite the warm clothes and the heated room, Sirius felt himself shivering, and he supposed that it had nothing to do with the temperature. It was the thoughts he was trying to hold back that had him shaking. He hadn't forgotten that Remus had wanted to speak with him during last night's dinner, and he was sure that neither had his friend. But Sirius couldn't. One word might be enough to break the wall he had so carefully crafted for years, brick by brick. Not only Azkaban would come spilling out of his mouth, but if Sirius wasn't careful, all the rest would too. Things he hadn't even let himself think, but they were so loud in his mind now that they would find their way across his lips and into the world soon if he didn't keep shoving them back forcefully.

A soft knock on the door finally made Sirius stir, his bones aching as he moved them after having laid in the same position for too long. "Sirius?" Remus's careful voice came through the door. "Are you okay?" Slowly, Sirius raised himself off the mattress and turned his head to look at the door. "Can I come in?"

Licking his surprisingly dry lips, Sirius nodded, but only to convince himself to speak. "Yes" was the only word needed for Remus to open the door and stick his head into the room. Despite not having seen that look in over twelve years, Sirius immediately recognised the concern written across Remus's face. As his friend closed the door behind himself, Sirius sat up completely and tried his best to smile.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to-"

"Don't be ridiculous," Remus broke him off. He was still standing by the door, and Sirius knew that he didn't know whether he should come any closer to the bed or not.

Things had changed a lot for them. Back then, it hadn't even been a question: someone was sad, someone else did everything in their power to console them; be it sitting down next to them in silence for hours or planning an elaborate prank on someone else. Now, they were two adults standing too far apart for either of their liking, not knowing what to say. Consoling words and actions were too familiar, and the people they had used to play jokes on were gone. So what now? One touch of Remus, now matter how innocent and well-meant, could set Sirius off, so when the man approached the bed, Sirius slid aside to give him space to sit.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Remus asked.

Not really, Sirius thought, but he couldn't say that. He couldn't deny his friend the thing he deserved the most: the truth. Taking a deep breath, Sirius looked at Remus for a moment before looking down at his hands, hiding them in the red sleeves again as if it were to protect him from the pain.

"I do want to talk about it," Sirius started, his voice uncharacteristically quiet, "but I just... I don't know where to start."

Chapter Text

As he looked at the man in front of him, Remus could barely believe it was the same man who had once danced on the Gryffindor table while singing at the top of his lungs and banging his head to James's air-guitar solo. This man here, on this bed, he was fragile. He didn't dance on tables anymore; he hid under them. His hands were shaking, not from pretending to hit drums but from fear. Remus didn't know if he should reach out and put his hand on the man's shoulder. He almost felt that Sirius was a statue in a museum - "breakable. don't touch." So he kept his hands to himself, firmly in his lap.

"How about at the beginning?" Remus suggested. He didn't know what could help Sirius to overcome this monster of fear that was eating away at him. Were he to allow that monster to consume him any further, the old Sirius might never be able to come back, not even break through in certain moments. Remus didn't want that. Harry would need his godfather come summer, and Remus would rather die than have the boy see him as nothing more than a shell. A shell of the man Remus had once known, of the man Harry would never get to know.

Sirius took a shaky breath, which pulled Remus's eyes up to his slightly parted lips. "It's not easy for me to talk about this, Moony," he finally said after a silence that had lasted for way too long.

Merlin's beard. Twelve years, they had been spearated, and every day, Remus had longed to reach out and touch Sirius. And now he was here, sitting next to him, and Remus couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to move or even to speak. He was afraid that a single sign of life would make Sirius crawl back inside the shell he was just now starting to come out of. Before their agonising separation, Remus had been able to touch him whenever he had wanted to under the pretence of being best friends. But now?

"It was hard, Moony," Sirius continued. His knuckles were turning white as he clasped his hands together in his lap, his gaze fixed on them. "Sitting there, knowing my friends were dead -" His voice broke, and Remus broke right with it.

He had the feeling that Sirius, just as Remus himself, had accepted their friends' deaths but refused to think of it with this kind of finality. Once you said it out loud, it became real, and once it was real, it became painful. There were stitches on either of their hearts, holding together the wound that had opened that Halloween night. The stitches were beginning to come loose. With every world that was being said on the matter, the stitches were coming loose, and only when it was done would they know whether they would find a gaping wound or a healing scar.

"- and their killer was out there," Sirius finished his sentence. "Peter was out there, hiding, and I knew. And I had to pay for it."

Remus sucked in a breath and sat up more straight. He couldn't. He was ashamed of himself, of having believed Sirius capable of doing such a thing. "I'm sorry," Remus whispered.

When Sirius's eyes found his, they were confused beyond a doubt. "For what?"

"For believing you were guilty." Remus looked away, shaking his head. "I shouldn't have believed it. I should have known..."

"Remus, look at me," Sirius said. Remus shook his head again. He couldn't. When he felt the touch of a hand on the back of his neck, he flinched a little. He hadn't expected Sirius to touch him, and especially not like this. Sirius made Remus look at him, then took his hand away again, leaving Remus's neck feeling terribly cold. "It's not your fault. None of this is your fault."

"I know," Remus argued. "But I should have known."

There was a flash of a smile for just the tiniest of moments before Sirius's lips thinned. "It was him or me." Sirius was stern now, his voice firm. "We were all friends. All five of us. Neither of us could have known which one would be the one."

Something in the man's voice made Remus frown. Why did he sound like he was speaking from experience? Remus didn't ask. Instead, he asked the stupidest question he had ever asked in his entire life, "How was it?"

The look in Sirius's eyes showed that he knew exactly what Remus was referring to. Azkaban. "It felt like being dead."

Remus's blood froze over. His friend had felt dead for twelve years. Twelve years. While Remus had whined about losing every single one of his friends, one of them had suffered a fate worse than that. One of them had been lost, but not completely. Dead but not completely.

"At first, it was worse," Sirius told him as if to cheer him up. "They had fresh bad memories to cling to." Dementors. "But after a while, I shut them out. I didn't give them any more."

"How did you do it?" Remus asked, thinking of Harry desperately trying to learn the Patronus charm.

Sirius shrugged. "I don't know. I thought of Harry all alone without his parents or a proper family, burdened with a fame he didn't sign up for." Remus nodded, a soft smile on his lips. "And of you."

The words startled Remus so much that he looked up, staring right into those black eyes. This time, neither of them broke eye contact. "Me?"

"Yeah." The word came out as a whisper, and the sound was enough to make Remus's heart gallop. "I didn't want you to be alone."

Were they sixteen, hiding under blankets with nothing but the moonlight illuminating their faces? Were they sixteen, the feelings in Remus's chest still so fresh but so strong already? Were they sixteen and nothing in the world mattered except for them? Were they sixteen and nothing bad had happened yet? Or were they much older and everything bad had happened?

"Always the cavalier," Remus said, lightly shaking his head in mock-disapproval. "You were the one who was alone. Not me. You were gone, Sirius, and I -" Now it was his voice that broke. "I missed you," he confessed in a low voice.

In an instant, Sirius's face lit up. There he was. Sixteen. "Of course you missed me. I'm marvellous. My absence in your life would create a hole too big to be filled."

But Remus wasn't smiling. "You have no idea how much," he whispered, holding back the fountain of tears that was threatening to overcome him. He couldn't cry. Not now. He would save that for the shelter of the night.

Sirius's smile dropped. "I missed you too, Remus," he said.

And that was enough. They sat in silence for a while, their knees not quite touching but close enough so Remus could feel the heat radiating off of Sirius. They would step out of this room and pretend the conversation had never happened, just like in the old days, so Remus wanted this to last for a little longer. He wanted to keep sitting here and keep breathing in his best friend's company. He wanted to touch him, yes, to reach out and brush that strand of black hair behind his ear, run his fingers along his jaw, touch the tattoos that were still so unfamiliar.

But he didn't.

Chapter Text

It was midday and Remus and Sirius hadn't spoken much more since that morning. They had eaten a late breakfast and Sirius had taken a shower. Remus had smiled when he looked after his friend as he vanished into the bathroom. Sirius had better get used to the luxury of running water and the liberty of using that water as much as he liked. Remus thought that Sirius was one step closer to that goal when the shower lasted for half an hour - almost as long as at Hogwarts.

The only thing missing to prove to Remus that Sirius was turning back into his old self was the sound of him singing in the bathroom, belting rock anthems at the top of his lungs. At Hogwarts, no one would have mistaken the showers for empty if Sirius was in there; people could tell that they were occupied from outside. Would you then open the door to take a shower too, you would find Sirius using his shampoo bottle as a microphone, and, would he spot you, he'd give you a wink and carry on, unbothered.

The Marauders used to have quite the spectacles in the shower room, especially on Friday nights when they all took showers and prepared for the upcoming parties that had gotten so common once the Marauders had been in their fourth year. By fifteen, they were the heroes of Gryffindor, and their parties had become a weekly ritual: every Friday at seven, when everyone was back from dinner, the first- to third-years were ushered to bed while the older students cracked open drinks and snacks. The younger ones had accepted their fate in the previous year when the parties had still been less routine, and the new first-years had been clued in immediately upon their arrival in the common room on September first. It wasn't uncommon for them to sneak downstairs and try to join in the fun, but they had never had any luck. Not with Lily always on guard and ready to send them back to bed, or James, who would take a more drastic approach like casting a spell on the entryway to the common room so they couldn't even enter.

It wasn't lost on Remus, as he was sitting on his couch, that today was a Friday. Even after Hogwarts, even during the war, the Marauders had gathered every Friday. It hadn't been as joyous and it hadn't been a real party, but they had been together. Later, they had been joined by baby Harry, who, unlike the youngsters at Hogwarts, had been allowed by Lily to join. Friday gatherings had been a habit of theirs, hard to break after three years at Hogwarts, and even harder to be reminded of after Halloween 1981.

When Sirius had come out of the shower, he had pulled on another one of Remus's jumpers (one that fitted him more around the shoulders) and had crawled onto the large couch next to Remus. They had been sitting like that ever since. Remus had only gotten up once to make fresh tea, and Sirius had moved only to grab the Daily Prophet from the coffee table. They had barely broken the silence, but there had never been any need to.

Remus knew what this was: this was them in their most familiar habitat. His living room came as close to the Gryffindor common room as possible. The newspaper, the fireplace, the smell of a freshly-showered Sirius. The number of times the two of them had sat together just like this in the common room was uncountable. Sirius had never been good at sitting still, but with Remus, he didn't seem to mind that much.

So when the time to prepare dinner came, Remus hesitated to get to his feet. Sirius was halfway through with his book already and he would soon be hungry, so Remus didn't want to let him wait. But he also didn't want to leave. He didn't want to burst this little bubble they were sitting in and ruin everything by bringing them back to the present.

"Sirius?" he asked before he could stop himself.

The man, leaning his back against the armrest and warming his feet by Remus's side, looked up from his book. He pushed his hair out of his face and smiled when his big eyes found Remus looking uncomfortable. "Yes, Remus?" He said the name in a rather mocking tone,making fun of Remus using his real name instead of his nickname.

"Do you sometimes wish we were back at Hogwarts?"

Remus despised having asked the question that made the sparkle leave Sirius's eyes and his smile fall, though it wasn't gone completely. There was still a hint of a smile left, tugging at the corners of his lips in soft amusement. "Sometimes," Sirius agreed with a nod that made his hair fall loose behind his ear again. "But mostly, I'm just happy to be here. Right now."

Remus nodded, too, but wordlessly. He didn't know what to say to that. He felt a little ashamed of wanting to go back to their youth when they had had nothing to worry about except for exams and who was snogging whom. He felt as though he wasn't appreciating that he had Sirius back by wanting all of his friends back. But it was true: he had Sirius back. In some way, it had always been the two of them. James and Sirius had been inseparable, best friends, partners in crime, but one half of James had always belonged to Lily, and the other half had been slipping from Sirius more and more once they had gotten married. The same was true for Lily and Remus. But Remus and Sirius... All of Remus belonged to Sirius.

He had been so deep in thought that he only noticed Sirius moving when he was already next to him, his face excruciatingly close. He was smiling sympathetically as if he knew exactly what Remus was thinking. "The past is gone, Moony," he said with a voice almost as soft as his eyes, "and we can't get it back. All we have is the present, and the only way to lose that, too, is by thinking about the past."

Remus smiled at him, blinking back his tears. "You're right."

Sirius grinned and leaned back. "Honestly," he said, shaking his head. "You're supposed to be the smart one."

Remus laughed and shoved his shoulder, the first playful gesture between them in years. "Shut it. You're pretty smart, too."

"No, I'm just pretty," Sirius replied almost as if out of reflex. But the statement sounded so much like teenage-Sirius that they both fell silent and looked away. The fact that Sirius's first instinct had been to say this was one step closer to healing. It was one more stitch opened on their hearts, one step closer to figuring out whether their scars were healing or still bleeding.

"Come on," Remus broke the silence, "I could use some help making dinner."

He knew the smile on Sirius's lips well enough to know that it was fake, but Remus took what he could get and appreciated the try nonetheless. They went to the kitchen and got ready to cook. Remus realised that they had never cooked together before. Him and Lily, yes, all the time. Even James had helped out when Lily had snapped at him. But Sirius had always been the little prince who didn't have to help even if he wanted to. He was always with Harry in the meantime, entertaining the boy while the grownups were in the kitchen. Peter had been somewhere in the middle, helping out if James was in the kitchen, and he'd be playing if James was in the living room.

Sirius looked cute, though, as Remus watched him standing awkwardly in the foreign kitchen. He didn't know where anything was, and he didn’t feel at home enough yet to just look through the cabinets. So Remus smiled and said, "Could you get me the large silver bowl, please?"

Sirius nodded but didn't move. He just stood there, moving his head left and right in the hopes of spotting the bowl somewhere. He wouldn't. The bowl was in a cupboard. Remus grinned, knowing that Sirius's next move would be reaching for his wand and just Summoning the bowl, but the wand was way out of reach on the coffee table in the living room. So, option number three: "Where is it?" - asking Remus.

Remus shrugged,  not even looking at his friend and already getting out three eggs from the fridge. "Figure it out."

"Moony -"

"Padfoot." Remus's voice was lecturing. He turned his head and smiled. "This is your kitchen now, too. I'm sure you'll find it."

Sirius let out a sigh, but he opened the first cupboard nonetheless. Remus did his best to ignore him and tried to find this whole thing less strange and oddly endearing than it was. Sirius, in his kitchen, who would have thought? Not Remus, so much was clear. He'd have rather believed that he would never see Sirius ever again, let alone cook a meal with him in peaceful silence. There was something about the man looking around the kitchen, his eyes narrowing with every cupboard and drawer he opened and coming up empty.

But lucky for Sirius, Remus didn't have a very large kitchen and not many drawers and cupboards to open, so eventually, he found the large silver bowl and passed it to Remus, who cracked the eggs in it. He flicked his wand at them, and they whipped themselves while Remus moved on to get the flour. Sirius was unusually quiet in the meantime, but Remus was starting to get used to it. He didn't know what kind of small talk he could be making now and if it would make things even weirder. So in the end, they just cooked a whole meal in absolute silence while Remus tried his very best not to think of the conversation they had had the night before or this morning or any conversation they could be having in the future.

Though there would have to be a conversation at some point. It might have been fine for now after only two days, but Remus knew that they couldn't possibly go on like this: not talking, dancing around the point, avoiding the inevitable. It wasn't going to work out, and he so desperately wanted it to work out. So, for better or for worse, he tried again during dinner.

"How is it?" Remus decided to start the conversation casually, as if he wasn't jittery under the table, his fingers fidgeting with the sleeve of his shirt and the inside of his lip already bleeding because he'd bbeen picking at the skin there for too long with his teeth.

Sirius looked up at him, all big black eyes and wide smile. His teeth weren't as good as they used to be but one quick spell and they would be back to sparking white and healthy. Sirius only had to ask, and Remus would do it for him. Sirius only had to ask, and Remus would do anything for him. "It's amazing, Moony," he beamed, and not even the darkness on his teeth could dim the light of that smile. "It's even better knowing that I did that."

Remus laughed. "Well, you barely did anything, so thank you for the compliment."

His friend's smile dropped into a pout. "I very well did a lot!"

"Oh, please, after that bowl dropped, you wouldn't touch a single thing."

"That was a misunderstanding."

Remus laughed again and nodded. "Sure, okay, Padfoot. It was a misunderstanding. You did a good job. It's delicious."

Sirius's smile was back, even bigger than before. Oh, how could Remus say what he needed to say now? How could he wipe that smile off after not having seen it for so many years? He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he did anything to make that smile go away ever again. Remus had done too much already. He had said too much and too little, he had done too much and not enough, he had been a good friend and not enough. He had caused that smile to vanish too many times, and he wouldn't do it again. Not now, not yet. He just needed a little more time.

"What are you thinking about?" Sirius asked, snapping Remus out of his reverie.

"Nothing," he replied, lying straight through his teeth.

Chapter Text

"Nothing," Remus said.

But Sirius knew that it wasn't nothing. Even though they had been out of contact for twelve years, Remus hadn't changed as profoundly as he probably thought he had. Some things, yes, Sirius could already tell that they were rather uncharacteristic for the Remus he had once known, but in other things, he was just the same. Hiding his emotions had never been his forte, and especially not hiding them from the Marauders of all people. To them, Remus's face had always been an open book, laying all the emotions bare before them. And this, right then, this was Remus's face when he was troubled and deep in thought.

Sirius knew that face, and he knew the tone of voice in which Remus had said, "Nothing." It was the tone he used when trying his very best to lie to the Marauders. It wasn't that Remus wasn't a good liar. No, he was a really good one. Not as good as James and Sirius, who had made it their personal missions to cause as much trouble as possible without getting into it only once. But Remus had talked them out of trouble plenty of times, lying to every teacher that had dared to ask them about whatever they had clearly done. To the Marauders, however, Remus's voice had always been an open book, laying all the emotions bare before them.

"Are you sure?" Sirius asked, his fork hovering inches above his plate as he was contemplating whether to put it down or to keep eating. "You have that Remus-is-thinking face on."

Which was followed by the Remus-is-annoyed face, causing Sirius to continue eating as to make the conversation feel a bit lighter. He could immediately tell that he wouldn't achieve that. "Firstly, you just made that up," Remus said, clearly annoyed, clearly proving Sirius right. He hadn't made that up. As a matter of fact, everyone in their friend group had been painfully aware of the Remus-faces. "Secondly, I said it's nothing."

Sirius let out a sigh and finally put his fork down. This couldn't go on. "We used to talk about everything," he said his thoughts out loud before he could stop it.

"Not everything," Remus mumbled in return, taking Sirius by surprise. He watched his friend getting to his feet. "I'm tired," he stated, lying. "I'm going to bed."

"Moony -" That was as far as Sirius got without accidentally saying something that he had sworn never to say out loud. Remus looked at him for one more second as if he was waiting for Sirius to continue, but when his lips closed in regret, Remus shook his head almost imperceptibly and left the room.

It was true, of course, that they hadn't talked about everything even back at Hogwarts, but there barely had been any secrets between them. Not even sexual things, which seemed taboo for other boys their age, had been off-limits for the Marauders. They had shared everything - all their stories with girls and some with blokes, too. Sirius had shared when he had developed this borderline obsessive crush on a Ravenclaw boy two years older than them, who, after about a month, he had even managed to get a snog from. Peter had told them about every girl he fancied and every surprisingly dirty thing he wanted them to do to him or he to them. James had spilt absolutely everything, unfiltered and unapologetically, until Lily. Lily had always been sacred. Even Remus had told stories, though there hadn't been much to tell because Remus had fancied books and good marks more than girls or blokes or both.

And even when it came to the real stuff like family or the full moon, they had been open with each other. Remus knew everything about Sirius's trouble with his family. Granted, it hadn't been Remus, who Sirius had first told, but not because he hadn't wanted to. He had known back then as he knew now that he hadn't told Remus first because he wanted Remus to know the most. He had wanted Remus to know too much, and somewhere, the line had had to be drawn before Sirius would forget what could be said and what had to be kept secret.

Because he had had a secret, and he had kept it from his fifth year until now. He would keep it forever if that was what would make Remus happy. But the issue was that Sirius, quite frankly, didn't know what made Remus happy anymore. He had always thought it had been him, that he had been the one to make his friend happy, but maybe that had been wishful thinking. Maybe that had been delusion trying to convince him that Remus was feeling the same things as Sirius was. The scary truth was: he didn't know. He didn't want to know if Remus wasn't feeling the same.

Sirius stayed seated at the table for a while before waving his wand at the dishes and leaving them in the kitchen to clean themselves. He wandered to the bathroom and washed his face under the running tap. He hadn't even realised how much he had missed clean running water until he had taken a bath here and come face-to-face with this thing that had been so common and essential to him that he had been lacking for more than twelve years.

When Sirius straightened up, he met his own eyes in the reflection of the mirror. He had seen his reflection plenty of times now since he had gotten here, but he still wasn't used to the way he looked now. He softly touched his fingers to his jaw, feeling the new stubble of beard already even though Remus had shaved it off only yesterday. Sirius let his wet fingertips glide across his cheekbones, which had always been rather prominent but never as much as they were now. His dark eyes looked bigger now in his hollowed-out face, and they had lost the sparkle they had once held in his youth. Drops of water were dripping down his lips, and he licked them, his eyes following the movement of his tongue in the mirror.

His fingers touched every inch of his new face, feeling the lips which were just as full and soft as they always had been, grazing the hollow cheeks which he knew Remus was trying to fill out again with amazing food, and touching the temples which had been hurting for weeks ever since Dumbledore had first told him about Remus's inquiries. Sirius hadn't handled the news well when Dumbledore had come to him and told him that Remus had approached him. Sirius shouldn't have ignored his friend; he knew that Remus had only tried to help.

Sirius let his fingers slide into his hair and ran through it all the way from the scalp to the ends. It was long now. It had always been long - Sirius's own little act of rebellion against his parents, who wanted him to keep his hair shorn down to only a few inches. But now it was so long that it was well over his shoulders. Sirius didn't like it - it knotted too fast. He had always hated it when his hair was in knots, but back then, it had been way shorter and well-kept, and he had had plenty of expensive products to take care of it. To be fair, back then, he had also had little other things to care about but his hair and the way it looked. He hadn't had a godson to worry about, or Dementors, or being on the run from the Ministry, or dead friends, or a friend who wasn't dead but right there in the room across the hall but not speaking to him.

"Fuck it," Sirius whispered to himself after staring at his reflection for too long, his fingers still lingering in his hair where the knots had stopped him from going further. He decided to cut it off right there - right where his figers were. It was the perfect length for him, to be true, just as it had been in his prime: barely over his shoulders. Quickly, he reached for his wand and took a deep breath, thinking, "not too short," before waving his wand and casting the spell. He couldn't bear to open his eyes as he felt loose hair in his hand and a considerable weight off his head. Had he cut it too short? Had the spell been wrong? Had he ruined his hair?

Opening his eyes again, Sirius let out a breath of relief when he saw that he hadn't. The spell had been cast perfectly, cutting his hair all on one length, his black curls now bouncing lightly as he turned his head left and right to admire his handiwork. With his beard gone and the hair shorter like this, he looked way younger again. Now, all that had to be done was getting rid of the dark circles under his eyes and a little meat on his bones. After that, he'd be as good as the younger version of himself, only with more trauma and more anxiety than he'd had to begin with.

And more tattoos, too, Sirius thought as he changed into his pyjamas in his bedroom and his eyes fell on the ink on his arms and chest. He had always wanted tattoos but never actually gotten them. He didn't know what had stopped him back then - if it had been Remus and James telling him not to (Peter had always been a fan), or if it had been his own fear holding him back. What if he had gotten sick of them or wished for clear skin back? Tattoos were forever, and the sixteen-year-old Sirius hadn't been ready for forever. Now Sirius was thirty-five, tattooed, and almost all of his forevers were gone. Almost. One forever was still here, in the room next to him, and Sirius would keep it this time. Forever.

As he drifted off into an uneasy sleep, Sirius thought of the months after his escape from Hogwarts in which hadn't sent word to his best friend. He had gone to South America, traveling through Chile and then the Caribbeans, and despite the nice weather and the people who didn't know who he was, it hadn't been a nice time for him. Sirius hadn't only left Remus; he had left Harry, too. He had written his godson very seldom, only letting him know that he was okay without revealing too much about his location or his mental state. The truth was: Sirius had been doing a horrible job of keeping himself intact. Every day had been a struggle for him. He had refused to eat until his stomach hurt so much that he couldn't bear it anymore, he hadn't taken a sip of water until he got so dizzy in the sun that he was about to pass out. That had gone on for weeks until Sirius decided that wallowing in self-pity wouldn't help Harry. His godson would need him, and until that happened, Sirius needed to take care of himself.

Only when he came back to England had he really started to try. He had had a purpose again: Harry had finally needed his help and advice. It had been a different form of torture - being so close to the boy yet too far to actually help him or hug him or do anything. And then there came Dumbledore, carrying a letter. Months had gone by, different owls bringing letter after letter from Remus that had all been left unanswered. Sirius had shed too many tears over the letters, blurring the ink on the parchment and leaving the words of his best friend unreadable. But Dumbledore had brought this one himself, so it had to be something serious.

Professor Dumbledore, Sir, Remus had written, making Sirius smile through his pain. He could hear Remus's voice in his head as he read the words, and he realised that even though he had never forgotten that voice, it had somewhat faded in his head over the course of twelve years. But as he was reading Dumbledore's letter, it had been clear and fresh again, his memories renewed by the one meeting they had shared in the Shrieking Shack. Remus had begged Dumbledore to help him find Sirius and to "bring him home. He belongs here, with me. I'm his home." But Sirius had declined.

Again and again, for months, Sirius had continued to decline for two simple reasons: one, he couldn't leave Harry. If the boy needed him, if he wanted to see him, if something were to happen to him, then Sirius had to be there. The Tournament was not to be taken lightly, and neither were Igor Karkaroff or any of the other threats that were surrounding Harry at the school even at this very moment as Sirius was trying his best to sleep. Two, Sirius hadn't wanted to drag Remus down. The man had a life, and he had been living it for twelve years without Sirius. He didn't have any right to just crash in there and mess the whole thing up. He knew that Remus was better off without him.

What had finally made him change his mind was the one letter Sirius had never opened. It had arrived right in his transit back to England and was the last one before Remus's usually regular letters had started to arrive only sporadically. Sirius assumed that that was also around the time Remus had started writing to Dumbledore. That one letter had fallen out of the bag that was buckled around Buckbeak, and Sirius had finally opened it. He didn't know if he would have accepted the offer right the first time if he had read the letter sooner, but it at least would have made him consider it.

Dear Sirius,
I don't know where you are, but my owls keep returning without the letters, so I'm assuming you're getting them but choosing not to reply. That's okay. I want you to know that that's okay. It's okay if you need time, and if you don't want to speak to me or see me. But then I also need you to know that I won't give up. Not on you, and not on us. I'll get you back, and when you're ready, I'm here. I'm right here, and I won't ever leave again, okay? Just come back to me.

Yours, forever,
Moony

He had doodled a little half-moon next to his name and a little star next to Sirius's. Sirius had immediately sent an owl to Hogwarts, telling the headmaster that he accepted. And now he was here, back with Remus, curled up in his new bed. Sirius was tossing and turning, little whimpers escaping his lips as dreams of Dementors and traitorous friends crept up on him. He wanted to overcome those dreams as fast as possible and the fear inside of him as well. He wanted to be his old self again, the one who was able to laugh and look into the mirror without hating what he saw. He wanted to be braver than his old self and finally say what he had been holding back for too long. He wanted Remus. Forever.

Chapter Text

When he woke up, Remus was groggy and disoriented for a moment. He smacked his dry lips together, then pulled a face and reached for the glass of water on his bedside table. He had had a strange dream that he couldn't remember now, but he could still feel the remnants of the unease inside of him. Then again, Remus thought the unease could also come from the way he had left things with Sirius yesterday. He shouldn't have walked away like that, but what else could he have done without having to answer the question that undoubtedly would have followed his silly statement about not sharing everything? He shouldn't have said that in the first place, but there was no taking it back now.

Remus was a grown man; he seemed to forget that when he was with Sirius. But now, alone in his bedroom, he remembered that he was, indeed, an adult who was well out of teenage-angst, and he had to start acting like it at some point. Only... it was so much easier to be a teenager. Why would he want to be an adult who had to look for jobs and pay rent and worry about money and health and as good as everything else? Well, Remus presumed, he couldn't be a teen forever. He hadn't been for twelve years, so he really shouldn't fall back into his childishness again. He had been forced to grow up when the war had come, and he hadn't had a chance to be a kid ever again. Until his childhood had walked through the door.

Still pondering and contemplating, Remus dragged himself out of his room, but he stopped halfway to the bathroom, his hand frozen where he had just rubbed his tired eyes. He raised his head and sniffed the air. "Breakfast?" he whispered to himself and wandered down the hallway. Was Sirius making breakfast?

Indeed, when Remus stepped into the living room, he found the table laid and there was a ruckus coming from the kitchen. He couldn't help a confused grin as he headed for the kitchen to find his best friend with his back turned to him, leaning over a bowl, whipping something while the knife was cutting fruit on its own to Sirius's left. "Sirius, are you -" All words failed Remus when the other man turned around to him, a wide grin set in place. "Merlin's beard" was what first slipped past Remus's lips. He thought he must either be going insane or Sirius had cut his hair. And with a grin like that, he looked so much younger again that Remus almost envied him. The damn fool couldn't do one thing without utter elegance, could he? Not even ageing properly.

But the grin fell when Sirius heard the whispered reaction out of Remus's mouth. "I cut it," he stated as if it weren't bloody obvious. "Don't you like it?"

The question took Remus so much by surprise that a little laugh escaped him. "Padfoot, you -" Remus stopped himself. Padfoot looked gorgeous, but could he really say so without making a fool of himself, all blushing and stuttering? Oh, but he really did look good. "I love it," Remus finally said.

He was glad to see that those words brought the smile back to Sirius's lips, and, whether Remus believed it or not, it was Sirius who was blushing now. Remus came closer to him to look into the bowl where Sirius had whipped up some dough. "What are you making?" he asked, looking up into familiar black eyes.

"I'm trying myself at pancakes," Sirius replied, his chest proud and his chin raised. "But I don't -" He hesitated. "I don't think they'll be as good as Lily's."

Remus gave him an encourging smile and clapped him on the shoulder. For a second, he was startled to feel skinny bones beneath his palm instead of the firm, broad, Quidditch-shaped shoulders he had once so often clapped on. But it took Remus only that one second to adjust, to remember that Sirius hadn't eaten in years and hadn't been on a broom in just as long. Just then and there, Remus decided that he would buy him a broom once Sirus was free, so he and Harry could soar through the air together like Sirius had loved to do with James. Maybe Remus would even get on one himself even though he had never liked flying.

"I'm sure they'll be just fine," Remus assured him with a smile. "Can I help with anything?"

Sirius quickly shook his head. "No," he blurted out. "I got this. Thanks."

Confused and amused at the same time, Remus furrowed his brow but nodded. He would ask later why Sirius was doing this, but for now, he would let him be. "So what do you want me to do?" he asked, grinning. "Can I at least sit here and watch you?"

Again, Sirius shook his head, and his cheeks turned a bright red. "No, please don't watch me."

Remus laughed and nodded once more. "As you wish. I'll read a book in the living room, then."

That he did for about another fifteen minutes before the smell of fresh pancakes filled his nose, and Sirius carried his proud creation to the dining table, followed by two plates of fruit floating behind him in mid-air. Remus folded the corner of his page to mark his place, then put the book down and got up. Merlin, the food smelled amazing. His stomach gave a hungry growl as he sat down, and Sirius grinned.

"Dig in," he gleamed, but when the first pancake landed on Remus's plate, Sirius's brow furrowed and he said, "I'm not promising anything."

Remus rolled his eyes and cut into his food, ready for just about anything. The pancakes could be really good, or they could be bad and Remus wouldn't say so. Either way, he would be happy and flattered that Sirius had put effort into the breakfast and wanted to give something back to Remus, and he would eat every single pancake on this stack. But once Remus tasted the food, his eyes rolled again, but this time back into his head in a good way, and a smile stretched across his lips. "Padfoot?"

Sirius's eyes were big and careful when he said, "Yes?"

"Lily taught you well."

This simple sentence made Sirius light up brighter than Remus had seen in years. And just like that, he looked so... young again. The smile faded out the dark circles under his eyes and how skinny his face had become. Remus was just barely able to hold back a sigh, refusing to swoon over his best friend so openly over something as trivial as a smile and a pancake. They fell into a silence that was so familiar yet not, so comfortable yet laden with some weird energy - a reminder of the conversation they had left unfinished during yesterday's dinner.

Would Remus address it? Would either of them, or would they just continue to sit in silence and pretend the unpleasant conversation hadn't happened? Would they ignore the elephant in the room? That big, pink elephant dressed in a tutu and waving flaming batons? No matter how hard Remus tried, the elephant was making it hard for either of them to pretend it wasn't there. He only wondered whether Sirius would break the silence first and address the issue. Or did Sirius not even realise that there was an issue? Was this all in Remus's head? Was he making himself crazy all on his own? As he sat there, going through these questions, he realised that the answer was yes. Yes, he was making himself crazy. Just talk, he thought to himself. Open your mouth and say something.

"We need to talk," Remus said, but in the exact same moment, Sirius had opened his mouth and said, "I want to go outside today."

Remus raised his eyebrows, questioning whether he had understood Sirius correctly. "What?" he asked.

"I want to go outside today," his friend repeated.

"Sirius -" Remus was about to chastise him when Sirius shook his head and broke him off.

"I know I'm not supposed to, but come on, Moony. It's a Saturday, the sun is shining, and for the first time in forever, I have nothing better to do."

"And everything to lose," Remus reminded him in a stern voice. He didn't like denying his friend any wishes, and especially not this one because he could very well understand where Sirius was coming from, but this was just not a wish he could grant. It wasn't one he should grant. If Sirius was recognised by the wrong person, seen by anyone, it would end badly. Remus didn't think he could handle his friend being sent to Azkaban another time. He had barely survived the last time and that was when he had thought Sirius guilty. Now that he knew Sirius was innocent, it would destroy him. Not to mention how Sirius would handle it, and Remus didn't even want to think about Harry.

Sirius sighed and leaned back in his chair, sliding down a little like he used to do in school when the subject had bored him. "Please," he whined. "I can go as Padfoot. No one would know."

"But what if they do? Sirius, I'm begging you to think about this. It only takes one person -"

"You think about this!" Sirius shot back and sat up again, making Remus flinch back a little. "Can't you understand? I'm stuck here!"

That word hit Remus square in the chest and shot tears into his eyes. "You're... You're stuck with me?"

Hearing the sentence back and noticing the pain in Remus's voice made Sirius realise how harsh he had sounded. His eyes softened as he tilted his head down a little. "No, I didn't mean... Remus, I didn't mean stuck with you."

"No, I get it," Remus interjected. "You wanted to stay in that cave close to Harry, and all you got instead was me. I'm sorry, Sirius. I just wanted to keep you safe."

"Forget that!" Sirius leaned forward in his seat, his chest touching the table. His dark eyes were glaring at Remus, somewhere between anger and frustration and sadness. "I don't want to be safe! I want to live!"

Remus buried his face in his hands for a moment before looking back at Sirius and barking, "And for that, you need to be alive!"

They had gotten loud, and their chests were heaving with deep breaths. For a while, they just glared at each other, scared the conversation could take them somewhere they couldn't come back from. Remus despised the situation they had found themselves in, but it was a necessary one. At least they were finally talking.

Remus watched Sirius picking at his pancake, a pout firmly set in place on his lips. Remus sighed. He would do anything for Sirius, he was certain of that. He would protect Sirius with his life, and if it were to come to that on a little trip outside, then Remus would do it without hesitation. He would hex whoever laid their eyes on Padfoot for too long. He needed Sirius alive and well. But he needed him happy, too. And he would do anything - everything - to make him happy.

So, resigned and out of options, Remus let out a sigh and relaxed his shoulders. "Fine," he mumbled.

Sirius looked up at him with only his eyes, his chin still tucked in, but his eyes were so big with hope that there was no doubt he'd understood what Remus had meant. "Fine?" he asked, the slight disbelief in his voice making Remus smile. "Fine, what?"

Remus rolled his eyes, but he couldn't hold back his own smile. "Fine, we'll go outside." Sirius sat up straight and beamed at Remus, but before he could get too excited, Remus said, "Only if you promise me something."

Slightly narrowing his eyes, Sirius gave a small nod, and it was obvious that he was suspicious of the promise Remus was going to demand, knowing that he couldn't say no now after having pled his case so vehemently.

"I want you to promise me that you'll be safe."

Sirius's eyes softened again, his shoulders sagging as it became clear to him that Remus wasn't demanding anything outrageous in return. He merely wanted his best friend to be okay. "I promise, Moony. I promise I'll be safe, and I'll stay by your side and won't wander off. And I promise I'll never ask to go out again if you don't want me to."

"No, Sirius." Remus shook his head. "You're not a dog. There's no orders for me to give you and no doors for me to lock. You deserve to go out and see the world after being deprived of it for so many years. I wish I could show you the whole world. I wish we could go back to the beach and lie in the sand, climb mountains and look through the clouds. I want you to live and to see it all. And I promise, I will show you someday when all of this is over."

These words hung in the air for a moment, heavy and full of meaning between the two men. Remus had meant all he had said, and he would say so much more if only he had the courage to. If only it was the moment for that, the right mood to bring up something as difficult as feelings.

They decided that they would finish breakfast first, and then they'd get dressed and ready to head outside. Remus was nervous about it. After all, Dumbledore had specifically told him that Sirius was not to go into the public. But how could he, Remus, or anyone else expect the man to be cooped up in a not-too-large flat with nothing to do but read and sleep and talk to Remus all day long, day in, day out? They couldn't. They couldn't ask this of him, and no one could ask of Remus to sit idly by and watch his best friend lose his mind.

Chapter Text

It was weird to leave the house with Padfoot by his side. After having spent so many years with Sirius in his Animagus form, Remus only now realised how long it really had been since he had last seen the shaggy black fur and big paws. He could still remember how it felt to have his little naked and hurting body curling against the big dog after a full moon, and he remembered the way Padfoot had licked Remus's wounds to cool them down. A full moon was coming up, and Remus couldn't help but wonder...

"Hey," he hissed at his companion, who had gotten distracted and was sticking his nose into a neighbour's rose bushes. But at the sight of him, Remus really couldn't be mad. In as long as he hadn't seen the dog, the dog hadn't seen roses or had the time to stop and smell them.

There wasn't a plan for where they would be going or what they would see. All Sirius had wanted was to go outside, and so that they did. They were walking down the street Remus lived in, brown and beige and white houses lining the street on the right, and a park on the left. Remus lived in a nice block of flats just a few houses down. It was a fairly new addition to the street to accommodate all the people who wanted to move to this nice part of town. Dumbldore had helped set this up for Remus the year before after he had left his job at Hogwarts. "It's the least I can do," he had said, and Remus had agreed, though the least Dumbledore could have done was tell him where Sirius had been. But Remus tried not to hold a grudge. After all, Sirius was here now, and that was all that counted - not the months they had missed.

It really was a nice day today, Remus thought as they crossed the street and headed into the park, Padfoot already rushing over to the wide spead of green grass. The sun was shining for the first time in days, and it was warm enough to leave the house with only a jumper and no jacket. Remus laughed when the black dog threw himself into the grass and rolled around, rubbing his back against the soft ground. He barked twice, making Remus laugh and roll his eyes. So much for keeping a low profile. But he couldn't possibly be mad at Sirius - the man had been through too much, and a little time in fresh, moist grass was the least he deserved.

They stayed in the park for a while, Remus sitting down on a bench and watching Padfoot running around the park, sitting down wherever the sun hit the ground through the leaves in the trees above. As he sat there and had a little time to really look at the dog and consider him, Remus noticed that not only Sirius's human form had become skinnier. Obviously, he thought to himself. It was silly of him to assume that the Animagus would have stayed healthy and nourished if the wizard was not. He wondered how long it would take to get Sirius to his usual weight. Months?

After a while, when Remus's legs were already hurting from sitting on the uncomfortable wooden bench for too long, Padfoot came up to him and put his head in Remus's lap. He laughed, smoothing out the fur and picking leaves and grass out of it. Padfoot was panting, and Remus could have sworn that the dog was smiling. His heart swelled at the sight of the happy dog, and he thought that if he couldn't see human-Sirius happy like this, then he would gladly take happy dog-Sirius. He took the dog's face in both of his hands and leaned down to him. This was the only way he could get close to Sirius nowadays without feeling weird about it. This was a dog, and while it was his best friend as a dog, it was still just a dog.

"Want to keep going?" Remus asked in a low voice. The dog barked once, making Remus laugh out loud, and he nodded, getting up. "Alright then. Where to?"

He wished he could ask Sirius this question, wished he would be able to answer him and tell him what he wanted to see. Remus desperately wished to walk around with Sirius by his side, feeling and seeing his human presence beside him, their hands dangling next to each other so close that they could touch if they wanted to. But Remus had to take what he could get, and Padfoot was a more than acceptable companion. He said far less stupid things than Sirius did, that was for sure.

Padfoot turned in a circle once, too excited to give Remus an actual answer, so he only rolled his eyes again and started walking with a grin on his lips. The dog would have to content himself with following, then. But before Remus could exit the park on the side that led back to the street they had come from, Padfoot snatched the leg of his trousers between his teeth and pulled, trying to hold Remus up.

"What?" he asked, looking down at the big animal. "What is it, Padfoot?"

The dog only barked, obviously frustrated, and so was Remus. What was going on? Had he seen or smelled something? Remus looked around, scanning the park. They weren't alone here; they hadn't been all this time, so Remus couldn't see what should be suspicious about this. There were people here reading books or parents playing with their children. There were other people with dogs, too, and even they were minding their own business and paying no attention to Remus and his big, scary dog. So what was Padfoot barking about? What did Sirius want to tell him?

Remus crouched down so no one could see that he was trying to have a conversation with his dog like a lunatic. "Did you see something?" he asked quietly.

Padfoot barked again, and Remus's eyes widened. He felt for his  wand tucked into the waistband of his trousers, just in case he needed to draw it fast. "What did you see, Pads? Was it a person?"

Remus thanked Merlin when his dog didn't bark again, but... What else, then? This was a guessing game now, and Remus wasn't good at guessing. He had always despised it when James had told him to guess what his presents were. Remus also didn't know if time was of the essence here. How long did he have to figure this out, or should he just ask Padfoot to show him? Was it something serious, or was the dog only interested in a ball or some other toy?

That thought made Remus purse his lips and he tilted his head to the side in a lecturing manner, ready to tell Sirius off if needed. "Padfoot, is this something serious?" But Padfoot barked in affirmation and Remus's heartbeat sped up. "Show me."

Instead of running toward whatever he had seen, Padfoot came closer to Remus. He rubbed his wet nose against Remus's jumper, where he had just touched his wand. Oh, Remus thought. He was telling him to be on guard and that he might need his wand. Remus nodded once and stood back up. He followed his dog across the park, past the other people and dogs. Padfoot led him into the bushes on the other side of the park. The sun didn't reach here, and the change in temperature was clear, making Remus shiver a little. Once he was out of sight from the others, he pulled out his wand and squared his shoulders. He was ready.

Padfoot slowed down, sniffing the ground and looking around. Remus followed him quietly, his eyes darting left and right as he was on the lookout for whoever or whatever Padfoot had seen. But there was no one there. Remus couldn't spot a person or anything else that seemed out of place. But the dog must have perceived the situation differently: Padfoot was already rushing forward, the fallen leaves on the ground rustling beneath him, and Remus followed with big steps. He could smell the burn before he saw it. There was a huge scorch mark on a tree, and Remus immediately knew that it had been made by magic. A spell had probably missed its intended mark and hit the tree instead.

But who had cast the spell, and what or who had it been aimed at? Wizards in his neighbourhood? Surely Dumbledore would have mentioned something. That was if he was aware of the presence or another wizard here. What did it mean if he wasn't aware? The hairs in the back of Remus's neck raised, and he shivered again, whether from the cold of the shadows or the eerie situation, he couldn't tell. Padfoot had looked around, but now he was sitting by Remus's feet, breathing hard with an open mouth and looking up at Remus with big eyes. He hadn't found anything, so there was nothing else Remus could do. He crouched down again and gave the dog another pet.

"Good boy," he said and then blushed because it was, in fact, his best friend he was talking to.

James had always teased Sirius because Padfoot had liked being called that, so that would have to mean that Sirius liked it, too. Sirius had denied it and thrown pillows at James and Peter whenever they called him that. But one time, when he had been in a particularly good mood and the dorm room had been filled with shrieks as Sirius had tried to strangle James and Peter at the same time, Remus had put down his book, taken in the scene of chaos on the bed across from his and, in a low voice said, "Sirius, you're my good boy, aren't you?"

The boy had frozen, his hands still on the necks of his friends, but the muscles in his back had gone rigid. That had resulted in James and Peter hollering laughter, but Sirius hadn't even tried to fight them anymore. His face had frozen over, only his ears glowing red. After that, Peter and James had never called him a good boy ever again but instead teased him that only Remus should call him that. But even those jokes had subsided at some point, and Remus had never found out why. Probably because sixteen-year-old boys had thought other things more appropriate than teasing their friend about a supposed praise-kink, if one might even want to go so far as to call it that.

"Should we go back?" Remus asked Padfoot before Sirius would notice what Remus had just called him.

The dog barked twice and then hurried off. Remus grunted as he got back to his feet and was forced to chase after the dog once again. When he left the shade of the bushes, he found Padfoot sitting patiently by the exit that led to the other side of town - the side where Diagon Alley lay. Remus sighed. A park was okay, but could they really risk going to the street where the tightest concentration of wizards was situated? He could understand that Sirius wanted to go back after not having been in fifteen years or so, but he had to know just how dangerous it was.

Remus reached him, but before he could crouch again and start a more or less one-sided discussion with the dog, a woman came toward him. She gave him a warm smile, and a bark directed Remus's attention to a little blonde dog she had on a leash. Padfoot stood up, showing that he was way larger than the woman's dog, whose head just about reached Padfoot's chest. Remus put a calming hand on the head of his dog, burying his fingers in the soft black fur to show him that everything was okay and the woman and her dog were no threat.

"I'm sorry," she said, smiling awkwardly at Remus and starting to blush. Remus frowned a little at her reaction, and Padfoot barked again. "I just had to come by and say..." She hesitated, unsure of whether what she was saying was inappropriate. "I couldn't help but notice that your dog is very well-behaved."

Remus couldn't help but chuckle a little. Yes, Sirius was, indeed, a very well-behaved dog. But he hadn't expected a stranger to come up to him and say it. He had lived here for months now, and he had been to this very park plenty of times before, but he had never attracted any attention, and that was the way he liked it. Self-conscious about his scars, Remus had never liked people looking at him, and he had always done his very best to stay out of the public eye. Until the Marauders had come along, of course. Being friends with James and Sirius automatically pushed you into the spotlight, and at some point, Remus had had to face the music and be confident. He had been. At some point. At school, definitely. He had become known as the brains of the Marauders, as the genius who refined and polished the manic plans that the other three were giving him so that they were turned into perfect pranks which the Marauders got away with. Outside of Hogwarts, though, and especially without his friends, he was nothing more than a man who liked to be left alone.

Still, he managed to give the woman a smile and thank her for the compliment. He would later tease Sirius a little about it, and maybe - if he dared - he'd call him a good boy again. Deciding to be polite, Remus bent down to pat the woman's dog, which earned him a growl from Padfoot. No need to be jealous. "What a pretty dog," Remus said, standing up again and eyeing the smaller dog. Padfoot growled again, and the small Golden Retriever shrunk back against the woman's legs. Remus put his hand back on his own dog, trying to calm him down.

"Thank you," the woman said, and Remus just now noticed a hint of a Scottish accent. "Her name's Daisy."

"Oh, what a pretty name," Remus replied even though he thought that Daisy was a name very unfitting for a dog. Padfoot stepped closer to Remus and made him feel like Sirius, too, found the choice of name ridiculous.

"And I'm Becca," the woman continued even though Remus hadn't asked. Her smile grew bigger as she held out her hand, waiting for Remus to shake it and introduce himself.

Padfoot growled again and barked, making the woman jump back a little, startled. Remus frowned, unable to figure out what it was that was making Sirius this uneasy. Did he sense a threat in the woman? Could she, perhaps, have been involved in whatever magic had happened in the bushes? Either way, Remus should be careful about giving out his name and especially the name of his dog. He couldn't have the wrong people inquiring about the big black dog by his side, and especially not piecing their names together and figuring out who the animal really was.

"He doesn't seem to like me," Becca stated, trying to chuckle but failing miserably. Remus could hear that she was scared despite her attempt at a joke.

"Oh, no," he said, though he wasn't entirely sure. "He's just not good with strangers." He also didn't know if that was true. Back when they were younger, Sirius had been the most open and talkative boy Remus had ever known. He had had no hesitations walking up to strangers and asking them the most out-of-the-world questions or striking up a conversation with them just for the hell of it. The amount of cigarettes he had scored from complete strangers had been able to supply him for months. But now? Remus didn't know about now. He didn't know when the last time had been that Sirius had even talked to a stranger. Was he still good at it, or did he now, too, rather like to be left alone?

That didn't seem to discourage Becca one bit. She tilted her head to the side and Remus immediately recognised it as a gesture Sirius and James had often gotten from girls over the years. Remus had been flirted with plenty of times too, but he had never really taken notice of it as he had been convinced that no girl would ever willingly flirt with him. Not seriously, at least. Lily had joked with him many times, but he had always known that there had been no truth behind it. James and Sirius and even Peter sometimes had had to tell him afterwards that the girl had, in fact, been trying to chat him up. Besides, maybe Remus had never noticed because he hadn't had any interest in noticing. After all, he'd always been way more concerned with the way his best friend looked at him.

But with James and Sirius, it had always been painfully obvious what the girls were doing. They would tilt their heads to the side and bat their long eyelashes. They would twirl their hair around their finger or flip it over their shoulder way more than necessary. And they would bite their painted lips, only to reapply the lipstick once the boys were gone. Girls had flirted with James and Sirius since the dawn of time, and Remus had watched them do so ever since. Sometimes, the girls would manage, and the pair would end up with their lips glued together for however long the boys were in the mood. But many times, the girls had failed, mainly when James had fallen hopelessly in love with Lily, and Sirius had... Remus didn't know why people had stopped succeeding with Sirius.

Boys flirted differently; Remus had observed that, too. James hadn't been interested in the same gender - he never had - but that hadn't stopped them from trying. Sirius, however, had developed a taste for them in his fourth year after accidentally having touched lips with a fellow Gryffindor fifth-year who had only tried to whisper something to Sirius, who had leaned in at the same time. It was as if something had awoken in him, Sirius had told the Marauders that night, and he would never be the same man again. That revelation had opened many doors for him - none of which Remus had ever dared to step through. And once he knew that it at least was a possibility and not at all inappropriate, he had had an even harder time dealing with his feelings for his best friend.

"Then I suggest we stop being strangers," Becca said, proving Remus right in his assumption.

He dreaded having to tell this nice, pretty woman that he had no interest in becoming familiar with her in whichever way. No interest whatsoever. It was harsh, he knew that, but it would have to be said. If only Sirius wasn't right there, listening... "I'm so sorry, Becca," he started, but to his luck, that was all that needed to be said to make her understand.

She gave him a nod and tucked her head in, obviously embarrassed. "Oh, of course. I understand. I'm sorry for being too forward."

Remus smiled, polite and warm, and shook his head. "Not at all," he said. "It's a nice compliment. For me and my dog," he added jokingly and succeeded in making her shoulders relax and her lips quirk into a smile.

"Well..." Becca took a deep breath and glanced down at Padfoot for a second before meeting Remus's eyes again. "Have a nice day then, mystery man."

Laughing, Remus thanked her and wished her the same. She chuckled, still embarrassed, and turned away, tucking at the leash so her dog would follow her. Remus watched as she hurried away across the park, Daisy scurrying to keep up with her. Once she was far enough, Padfoot sat back down and looked perfectly content again. Remus glanced down at him and snorted, shaking his head.

"Alright, where to next?" he asked, just then remembering the argument he had been about to get into about Diagon Alley. He shook his head again, this time more sternly, when Padfoot's black eyes looked up at him. "We can't."

Another bark, and Remus narrowed his eyes. He kneeled down this time as he already anticipated this to be a longer discussion. Just to show Sirius that he wasn't at all mad with him, Remus put both of his hands into the long fur on either side of the dog's neck as he looked at him. "Padfoot, we can't. You know how many people there are. How many could recognise me and, by extention, you."

Padfoot didn't reply to this; not with a bark or a growl or a whimper. He stayed completely silent, showing Remus that Sirius was sulking.

"If you don't want to think about your safety there," Remus said, already sorry that he would have to go there and say it out loud, "then think about mine." That got him the reaction he wanted: Padfoot's ears stood up and he became visibly tense. "I'd be an accomplice. I'd be sentenced, too. But I don't care about dying for you, Sirius. I need you to know that." He whsipered very quietly so no one could overhear him, and only Padfoot's good dog-hearing could catch what he was saying.

It took a few seconds for the dog to react, but then he didn't bark like Remus had expected. Instead, he only trudged back toward the entrance they had come in through. Remus watched him for a moment and sighed, feeling horrid about himself. Sirius had been so happy before, and now Remus had had to go ahead and destroy it all. He finally moved and caught up with his dog, following him through the park and back onto the street. But unlike Remus's expectation, Padfoot didn't turn the way back to his building but started to keep going farther down the street. Remus smiled as he walked with him, side by side, understanding that Sirius didn't want to end their walk and his time outside just yet.

Chapter Text

When they got back to the flat, it was already getting dark and Sirius's hands and feet were hurting from having walked on all fours. But it was a good kind of hurt - the kind that only came from spending the day walking around with his best friend - so Sirius wasn't complaining. He was dirty, too; covered in grass and dirt and sweat, but he didn't mind. A shower or a bath was just what he needed right now. Remus kicked his shoes off and followed Sirius into the living room. They were silent for a while; they had been ever since they had turned around to go back home about fifteen minutes ago. Sirius wished he could know what his friend was thinking, but he was also too scared to ask.

"Do you want to take a shower, or..." Sirius let his voice trail off, leaving the rest of the sentence hanging in the air when Remus's eyes met his.

A smile stretched across his lips, and he shook his head in amusement. "No, you go first. You need it."

Sirius wrinkled his nose, but he knew that Remus was right. Since he only had the one spare jumper and sweatpants, Sirius took them from his bedroom into the bathroom with him and locked the door behind himself. He tried to avoid his reflection in the mirror, but it was as if his eyes were drawn to it and he just had to look. He found what he had known he would and what he didn't like: himself, dirty like when he had first gotten out of Azkaban. The shorter hair had that effect now, making him look not like last year or even last month. He looked younger again, but just as dirty, just as pained, and just as hollowed-out.

With a sigh, Sirius got out of the only other clothes he had (owned by Remus as well) and stepped into the shower. He had seen himself naked plenty of times now after multiple showers and baths at his new home, so he was used to the tattoos that now adorned his body, or the bones sticking out at his hips. He didn't mind so much anymore the way his skin stretched tightly over his stomach and chest with no meat to separate it from the bones. When he squeezed his eyes almost shut, he could pretend he was still in good health and that the tattoos were something he had actually wanted to get and not something to mark him as a prisoner. Maybe James had finally allowed him to tattoo their nicknames on his arm or the constellation that gave Sirius his name.

As he lathered his body with soap, Sirius thought back on the day he had had today. It had been the most beautiful day he had had in a long time. After too many years, he had been able to walk around without thinking about watching his back. Even in South America, where he had walked through the streets in his human form, he had never felt comfortable or safe. Today, with Remus by his side, he had known that he had nothing to fear and that his friend wouldn't let anything happen to him.

Sirius felt safe in Remus's presence; he always had. Back in the day, when bad things had happened to Sirius, the other Marauders had always been there for him and done their very best to cheer him up. Peter would ask him to come up with a prank, and the forming and re-forming of an idea had kept Sirius's mind occupied. James would come up to him with an already fully formed prank, ready to go, and the execution of the joke had made him forget about whatever was getting him down. Had the nightmares come and haunted Sirius in his sleep, he had often found James already at his bedside or would crawl under the other boy's covers. They would whisper and joke, and James would do his damnest to lift Sirius's mood.

But with Remus, it had always been different. Had Sirius crawled into his bed, they hadn't joked or giggled into the night. They had been quiet, Remus wrapping his arms around Sirius and allowing him to feel small even though he was taller and broader than the other. He would allow Sirius to talk about what had been troubling him, but he had also understood when Sirius just wanted to be quiet and not talk. During the day, Sirius could come with his bad mood to Remus, and he would wordlessly hand him a book, or if he could somehow feel that Sirius had the need to talk, Remus would put down his own book, take Sirius by the hand and vanish with him behind a tapestry where they would sit and talk.

It was a whole other thing now, for Sirius to be with Remus in his Animagus form. He had spent a long time as Padfoot in the past year, and he hadn't thought that he would ever return to enjoy being in that form. He used to spend the nights chasing birds in the Forbidden Forest or running through the trees with his friends on a full moon. On his journey from Azkaban to Hogwarts, Sirius hadn't had time to chase birds, and Remus had been far away and wouldn't have wanted to see Sirius in whichever form. Sirius knew this, but he wasn't resentful. He didn't have it in him to ever resent just the smallest part of Remus. The man had only done what he had thought was right, and Sirius couldn't blame him for that. After all, he had once suspected Remus as well. It had been a coin-toss, who of the two Marauders had really betrayed the Potters - Sirius or Peter - and from the way it looked, Sirius wasn't surprised that Remus decided to believe the story. After all, all the evidence seemed to have been right there.

What worried him now was the spell he had seen being cast in the park. There had been another wizard present, but Sirius couldn't imagine who or why. Since Remus hadn't said anything more about it since they had left the park, Sirius assumed that he, too, had no clue about it. Dumbledore either hadn't found it necessary to clue either of them in, or he himself didn't know that there was another wizard present in the little part of the city that Remus now called home.

Rinsing himself off and running his fingers through his shortened hair to get rid of the excess shampoo, Sirius closed his eyes and couldn't help a smile. Despite the mysterious wizard and whoever they had attacked, Sirius was happy, and for the moment, he didn't want to worry about how long that might last. For the moment, he just wanted to enjoy that he could still feel the sun on his skin and the wind in his hair. He knew that it wouldn't last. Happiness never lasted.

When Sirius came out of the bathroom, he had to admit to himself how wrong he had been to assume that. Just for now, his happiness would last at least a little longer. Remus was sitting on the sofa, glancing at Sirius over the edge of his book, but there was a delicious smell coming from the kitchen. Sirius furrowed his brow and peeked into the other room to find pots and pans on the stove, food cooking and bubbling, and steam rising from the pot. He wondered for a moment how long he had been in the shower.

When his eyes fell on Remus, who was still looking at him, Sirius sucken in a breath and went over to the sofa, too. He sat down next to his friend, and Remus put his book down with an expectant face. They had yet to talk about what they had seen in the park, not to mention the multiple conversations that had been left unfinished. "Did you write to Dumbledore yet?" Sirius decided to make the first step.

Remus shook his head. "I thought I'd talk to you first," he replied. "What do you think?"

Sirius shrugged and looked away. He couldn't concentrate if Remus's eyes were looking at him like that. "I think we ought to write to Dumbledore. He must know something. And even if he doesn't, he should be informed. Either way, we have to let him know. I'm a fugitive, after all."

Remus's jaw twitched at that, and Sirius wished he hadn't said it. Or maybe he just wished it wasn't true. "So you think it had something to do with you?" Remus asked.

"It's likely, isn't it?" Sirius shrugged again. "Maybe Dumbledore put someone here for protection, and someone found out where I am. There was a fight, and since I'm still here, the other person obviously lost. Don't you think so?"

"Well..." Remus looked rather hurt now, which made Sirius furrow his brow in confusion. Had he said something wrong? "I just thought I was here for your protection."

Oh. "Of course you are, Moony," Sirius said quickly. "I didn't mean- I'm not saying anything, okay?" Only when Remus nodded did Sirius continue talking. "So what do you think happened?"

Remus put on his thinking face, and Sirius smiled at his profile. "I reckon you could be right," was the reply. "I'll send an owl to Dumbledore after dinner."

"And while you're on it," Sirius said, "ask him about Harry, will you? I can barely trust the boy's information because he doesn't want me to worry."

Remus smiled and nodded before clapping Sirius on the knee and keeping his hand there as he pushed himself off the couch. Sirius looked after him as he walked over to the kitchen. He sighed. Another dinner. More food. More time to talk. Sirius hoped that this time, both of them would stay seated until the meal was over and that there would be no quarrel.

The food was fantastic once again, but Sirius couldn't be sure whether these were Remus's excellent cooking skills or just the fact that he hadn't had any real food in ages. Either way, he stuffed his face with mashed potatoes and gravy, and the meat was so good that he could have eaten the entire thing by himself even though his stomach was already protesting against the unusual amount of food intake.

"Sirius," Remus said, and Sirius looked up at him, eyes wide and cheeks filled with food. Remus breathed out a small laugh. "About yesterday..."

Quickly catching on that this was shaping up to be a serious conversation, Sirius swallowed his food and put his fork down to give Remus his full, undivided attention. Indeed, he had wanted to speak about the unresolved issue last night, too, but he couldn't bring himself to mention it - especially not because the day had been going so smoothly and he didn't want to ruin the mood. After all these years of unease, Sirius wanted nothing more than a little peace and calm, but despite his hope, Sirius had already assumed that Remus's place might not be the best place for that. After all, there were still too many things unsaid between them, and so much had happened that they needed to work through now.

"Listen, I don't want you to think that -"

"I'm not thinking anything," Sirius interrupted him, earning himself a confused look from his friend. Sirius took a breath. Okay, he thought, how do I start this? "You were right, after all. About us not talking about everything," he said. There. He'd done it. He'd finally said something.

Remus's face fell. He obviously hadn't expected this reply. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice confused and hurt. "Are you saying you have secrets from me?"

Averting his eyes, Sirius shook his head and shrugged his shoulders at the same time. When he looked back at Remus, he found the face of his friend having frozen over a little. Sirius frowned. He knew this face. Remus was very obviously apprehensive about something. He was scared that the conversation could be going somewhere he didn't want. But Sirius was scared of that as well. He had been scared of approaching this subject for more than fifteen years. But Sirius didn't want to be scared anymore. He knew that to continue the conversation and ensure that Remus wouldn't leave the table, he would have to be very careful about picking the right words and  tone of voice.

"I mean, you were the one who said that in the first place," he retorted in the calmest way possible. He didn't want to sound defensive or make Remus feel like he was being attacked. "So, do you have secrets from me?"

The fact that Remus looked away when Sirius said this made him very suspicious, but he didn't press the point further. Instead, he stayed silent and gave his friend the chance to reply on his own accord. Remus was quiet for a few heartbeats, which were pounding in Sirius's ears, before he moved his head to a nod. Sirius's heart was ever speeding up, hammering so hard that he felt dizzy. Remus had secrets from him. Sirius had them, too, but he had never thought... He couldn't even imagine what they were. What was his very best friend in the whole universe hiding from  him? Was it as bad as Sirius's own secret? Surely not.

"What about you, then?" Remus's wide green eyes looked at Sirius, who couldn't even think of lying to him. He nodded, too, and Remus took a breath. "Do you -" He considered for a moment. "Did James know?"

Sirius drew back. He felt that this question was rather unfair, and he knew that the answer would cause Remus pain. Sirius didn't want to hurt Remus, not ever, but he really couldn't have been expected to tell the secret about Remus to Remus. And James had been his friend, too. A friend who Sirius wasn't- well, he just... wasn't. Besides, Sirius hadn't even told James to begin with. The bloke had it found out all by himself. He hadn't been stupid, see? Or at least Sirius had been less discreet than he had thought.

"Yes," he finally answered, and just as he had expected, Remus's lips twitched downward. Sirius buried his face in his hands and sighed. Why did every evening have to end like this? Why couldn't they manage to fall asleep on the sofa with their limbs entangled and books on their chests? Why couldn't they figure this out? "I'm so sorry, Moony," Sirius said as he lifted his head again. "I'm so sorry."

Remus's features immediately softened, but there was still a hint of something like betrayal in his eyes. "No, don't be, Padfoot," he replied and the name sounded so sweet in his voice that Sirius wished he could curl up in Remus's arms and cry. "What for, anyway? It would be hypocritical of me to ask you to tell me when I'm not doing the same."

Sirius assumed that was fair, but he would have liked Remus to tell him, too. He suspected that Remus was feeling the same thing as he was: how could he be expected to know every secret if he was keeping one himself? So they had reached a stalemate where neither of them could be upset but also not very happy with how the conversation had gone. They both probably just longed to clear the air. They wished for no secrets at all, but making the first step was scary. What if Sirius told Remus and he would judge him and throw him out? Even worse: what if Sirius told him and Remus would hate him? He was too scared of finally saying the words he had held in ever since his schooldays. Of saying the words that would finally drive Remus away from him. If Remus knew who - what - Sirius was... He'd never want to speak to him again.

"Thank you for talking to me," Remus said after a while, making Sirius smile in confused amusement. "Even though I'm not James."

That made Sirius's smile drop. "Moony," he said sternly. "I need you to know that you know everything that James did. Even more, maybe."

"Everything but this."

Sirius smiled and reached across the table to take his friend's hand. This little thing was all he could do at that point, but it was enough to send sparks through his body and make his heart go berserk. "One day, when I'm ready to tell you, you'll understand."

Remus's eyes lit up in an instant. "So you're going to tell me someday?"

Sirius laughed. "I will. And hey, I don't even expect you to tell me yours in return."

His friend laughed as well. "Thank you," he said. "I appreciate that." They looked at each other for a moment, their eyes fixed on each other until Remus got shy and looked away. "Now eat your dinner before the food gets cold."

Chapter Text

As he was lying in bed that night, Remus damned himself for not being able to shut off his brain and fall asleep. He was still thinking about the talk over dinner, and he was still wondering what Sirius's secret could be. Surely, it wasn't as bad as Remus's own. He couldn't imagine anything as horrid as the secret that he was- well, that he was- that he had feelings. For his best friend. Feelings he wasn't supposed to be having. Remus groaned in annoyance at himself and rolled to the side.

Would he and Sirius ever be able to talk about this properly? Remus doubted that he would ever be brave enough to tell Sirius what he was feeling. They were supposed to be best mates after all. Just mates, nothing more. Remus wasn't supposed to be feeling like this - like his heart was almost jumping out of his chest whenever he and Sirius locked eyes, or like he was melting into a puddle whenever Sirius said his nickname. Remus was supposed to be normal.

He knew that the issue wouldn't be about him liking men. It wouldn't be an issue with Sirius, anyway. After all, Sirius had been the first in their entire year brave enough to kiss girls and boys. He had gone down on his knees plenty of times, too, and had told the Marauders all about it in gross detail that they had never needed to know. Remus, he had never done any of that. He was just lucky that he even had any experience with girls. Thinking about doing this with blokes had always made him dizzy.

Not with Sirius, though. Remus had fantasised about doing this with Sirius plenty of times. Especially back at Hogwarts, when they had shared a dorm and Remus had been forced to listen to Sirius pleasuring himself when he had forgotten to cast a silencing spell. Sometimes, Remus would listen and close his eyes to imagine him being the one to pull those whimpers from Sirius's lips. Most of the time, though, Remus had cast a silencing spell on his friend's bed in Sirius's stead when it had gotten too much for him to bear. Sometimes, when Sirius had been in another dorm or fooling around with a girl in the common room, Remus had been either sulking or angrily wanking to the image of Sirius fooling around in the common room with him.

Now, however, Remus couldn't do that anymore. He hadn't wanked in a long time anyway, and doing it to Sirius would just be wrong now. So, instead, he was lying in his own frustration - sexual and otherwise - and stared into the darkness. The moon was getting closer to a full moon with each day, and Remus dreaded the night in which the moon would have gained its absolute fullness and he would be forced to drink a potion and lock himself in his room for good measure. He wondered how Sirius was going to feel when the time came. After all, the last full moon they had spent together hadn't ended quite so well - for either of them.

As Remus was pondering this, his ears suddenly perked up, but once he paid attention, the night was dead-silent. Had he imagined a sound? No, there it was again. It was too quiet for Remus to distinguish what it was, but it was definitely there. He sat up, listening sharply for the source of the sound. Was Sirius roaming around the apartent? Remus wondered whether his friend might be looking for food or some water. But the sounds didn't sound like footsteps. They gained in volume until, finally, Remus realized with a bolt what it was: Sirius was having another nightmare.

Was it the Dementors, Remus wondered, that were haunting his friend in his dreams? Or was it something else, some other horrid memory? Another quiet cry ripped through the night and struck Remus like lightning, accelerating his heart immediately. It wasn't necessarily the sound itself that was shaking Remus - even though that in itself was troubling enough - it was the fact that Remus had no idea if he could do what he used to. There had been a time when he hadn't hesitated to comfort Sirius in the middle of the night, but things were different now. Would Sirius be uncomfortable?  After all, they weren't teenagers anymore. They were adults, well in their thirties, and shouldn't be crawling under each other's blankets now. Not as mates, at least.

Even before he reached a decision, Remus's heart sank all on its own as he realized that the sounds had stopped. Sirius was either awake already or he had slipped into a more peaceful dream. Either way, Remus had missed his window. The opportunity had been there, but he had been too much of a coward to take it. He grunted, anoyed with himself, and rolled onto his back again, staring into the darkness where he knew the ceiling was staring back at him. One day, he would be brave enough to go to Sirius again, Remus thought. One day, they would find back to each other.

Just as Remus wondered when that day might be, his heart nearly jumped clean out of his chest when he heard another sound. This time, it was his bedroom door opening. Remus lay petrified, not moving a muscle. Was it who he thought it was? Remus didn't dare to open his mouth and ask. His fear forced him to lie still and listen to the sound of footsteps approaching his bed.

"Moony?" Even though he was right next to him now, Sirius's voice was so soft and silent that Remus almost missed it over the drumming in his ears.

It was as if the voice had brought Remus back to life. He stirred and lifted his head, still not quite believing that this wasn't his mind playing a trick on him. "Sirius?" he asked, his voice thick and sleepy.

"Are you awake?" Sirius asked, and Remus smiled. How else would he have been able to answer him? "Can I come in?"

Remus's heart did a jump. He was dreaming. Surely, he must be dreaming. He scooted to sit a little more upright. "You want to... come in?" he asked in disbelief. "Into my bed?" He felt it necessary to clarify.

There was a short pause in which Remus could hear Sirius nodding. "If that's okay with you," Sirius said, and if it weren't for the deeper voice, Remus could have sworn that it was a teenager standing at his bedside asking to crawl under the covers with him.

Once he had found his voice again, Remus said, "Of course," and lifted the blanket so his best friend could slip in. It was a weird sensation to feel a body next to him again. It was even weirder when Remus reminded himself that this was Sirius's body next to him. How many years had he waited for this? How many years had he lain awake, begging for this? Remus shut his eyes tightly as Sirius slid closer so they could share the pillow and their shoulders touched. Remus pressed his lips together in order not to let out a tortured cry as he felt Sirius's soft hair against his exposed neck, Sirius's foot touching his beneath the blanket, and Sirius's hip wriggling closer to him.

Remus was sure he wouldn't get any sleep that night. He was breathing harder than was necessary for a man lying down in bed. Sirius, on the other hand, seemed perfectly content and at peace once again. His breathing was betraying to Remus that he was already falling asleep again. "Thank you, Moony," Sirius mumbled.

Trying not to let his voice break, Remus replied, "Anytime, Padfoot."

Sirius sighed, rolled to his side while flinging one arm across Remus, and was sound asleep. Every single muscle that Remus possessed tensed. He didn't want to move and risk Sirius waking up. He didn't want to move at all in case that would result in Sirius changing the position - Remus couldn't handle Sirius away from him any better than Sirius thsi close to him. But he also couldn't move because the thoughts running through his head locked every muscle in his body out of fear.

He had longed for this moment for so long, and it hurt. It hurt that Remus wasn't able to touch Sirius the way he wanted, that he couldn't trust himself to wrap his arms around his friend and hold him without burying his face in his hair and kissing him. It hurt inside of Remus, inside of his very being, and was ripping him apart. He was- Remus didn't understand why he couldn't admit it to himself. He didn't even have to say it out loud; he only had to think it. It wasn't as if refusing to think it was stopping it from being true. Because he knew that he was.

A tear rolled down from the corner of Remus's eye, and he closed his eyes. He had to get over himself, he decided. He had wished for this to happen, and now that it was, he didn't want to waste the opportunity. Not again. He had gotten a second chance. Here it was: the chance for him to comfort Sirius, the chance for them to find back to each other. Remus was breathing hard and heavy, and his lips trembled as he fought to keep from sobbing. Why couldn't he do it? Why couldn't he admit it to himself? Why couldn't he hug his friend?

Why was it so easy for Sirius? Remus bit his lip to stop the whimper from escaping his lips. Why didn't Sirius feel the same way as Remus was? It was tearing him apart that Sirius was able to wrap his arm around Remus just like that without any fear or doubts. He was able to touch Remus in a friendly way without wondering if the gesture wasn't friendly at all? He didn't have to agonize over every single word or every look or every touch. Sirius didn't have to worry that something about him would be ambiguous or misunderstood.

Remus shook with silent cries, and despite hoping that he wouldn't wake the other man, he couldn't stop. He was crying like a child. He was- He couldn't think it. He couldn't. When he felt Sirius moving, Remus held his breath and willed himself to stop crying. But it was no use - Sirius was already awake. He didn't say anything but instead grabbed Remus's arm and pulled it around himself. Wordlessly, Sirius slid even closer to Remus, who hoped that this agony would soon come to an end. Sirius pulled Remus's arm even tighter around himself, and once he had settled into a comfortable position, Remus found himself relaxing. He was hugging Sirius, and once it was done, Remus realized that it wasn't so hard. It was everything he had wanted and been too afraid to get. He took a deep breath, and his tears dried on his face.

"Go to sleep, Moony," Sirius whispered into Remus's chest.

The next thing Remus knew was waking up to the sun shining into his room, brutally beating down on his eyelids. It was a warm day, way too warm for February, and Remus was already drenched in sweat when he woke up. Granted, that also could have come from the body heat of his best friend, who had been wrapped around Remus for the whole night. Now, however, the other side of Remus's bed was empty, and he was alone in the room. He sat up and looked around, momentarily confused and disoriented. He hadn't felt Sirius leaving his side. Had he slept that tightly? Curious, Remus thought. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this sound asleep.

He found his friend in the living room, sipping on a mug of steaming hot black coffee. Sirius had always enjoyed the taste of anything bitter, which was why he was the first in their year to drink coffee (black, unlike many later drank it with milk and sugar) and develop a taste for alcohol. Truth be told, Remus suspected other factors to have contributed to that as well. Sirius had never slept much nor very soundly, which was why a cup of coffee had been mandatory every morning to even get him to classes more-or-less on time. And alcohol, well, that seemed almost self-explanatory: escaping reality and dealing with pain in the most unhealthy way Remus could think of. Sirius had never drunk excessively or been in any way noticeable in his behaviour towards alcohol, but anything had been enough to make Remus worry.

"Morning," Sirius said when he heard Remus enter and looked up at him.

"How long have you been up?" Remus replied, his brow slightly knitting as worry crept up on him.

Sirius sighed and put his cup down. "Not long," he said, clearly evading the truth. "I didn't want to wake you, so I came out here."

"Didn't you sleep well?" Remus asked, and he damned himself for being so overbearing, but he couldn't help himself. If Sirius was sleeping poorly, Remus wanted to know about it.

"I slept just fine, thank you."

"You haven't for the past couple of nights," Remus said and almost bit his lip. He knew he needed to stop, but the words just kept spilling out of his mouth like vomit, and it was impossible to stop them.

Sirius sighed again and got to his feet, wanting to head to the kitchen but stopping to give Remus an answer. "I can't possibly be expected to sleep like a baby with everything that's happening, Moony."

He crossed the room, but Remus held him up when he replied, "Then at least talk to me about it." It had been the wrong thing to say, Remus knew. He knew that Sirius coming to him last night had been a big step in the right direction, and making Sirius talk was unfair. He was trying, and that should be enough to Remus.

Sirius glared at his friend, his black eyes wide and dark despite the sunlight in the room. "I don't need to talk to you about it," Sirius snapped. His voice had risen, and he was breathing heavily.

Remus knew the signs well enough: he knew that this was shaping up to become an argument. They had never been short of arguments in their dorm, even if the four of them had loved each other more than anyone else in the world.

"I need you to stop pitying me!"

The word felt to Remus like the bite of a whip on his skin. "I'm not pitying you!" he shouted back, his voice just as loud as Sirius's even though he tried so hard to stay calm.

The face of his friend twisted into a disbelieving scowl. "Oh really?" he asked, sarcasm oozing from his words. "Then why on earth won't you leave me alone with your questions? Why won't you let me go outside? Why do you care if I sleep well? Why won't you talk to me about them? Why, if not out of pity?"

"Because I am-" Remus stopped himself to take a breath. But no. This wasn't the time to hold himself back anymore. Fine, he couldn't even say it to himself, but he had to say it to Sirius. "Because I am in love with you!"

Chapter Text

Sirius's heart was drumming in his ears, and he was so focused on the deafening sound that he didn't even notice that he was failing to breathe. Only when his lungs started to hurt did he take a deep, shuddering breath. He was staring at Remus, who stood a few feet away from him on the other side of the living room and didn't look like he was breathing quite so well either. Sirius wasn't sure who out of the two of them was more shocked - Sirius upon hearing the confession or Remus upon having actually said it.

"Take that back," Sirius finally said after what must have been hours. His brain couldn't comprehend the words... that word... Remus. In love. With Sirius? For Sirius to be... that with Remus was perfectly reasonable and acceptable. Remus was a lovely person. He was kind and smart and handsome. Sirius supposed he had been handsome too once, before all the horrors had happened, but he had never been particularly kind nor smart. Not in the way Remus was.

But Remus shook his head and even dared to take a step closer to Sirius, though they were still separated by quite some space. "I won't take it back, Sirius," he said, and his voice sounded braver than for the initial confession. "It's true. It's been true for a very long time."

Sirius took a step back, not because he wanted to but because he felt that he had to. He had to create some more distance between him and the words that were leaving his friend's mouth. He couldn't believe them. He simply refused to. There could be no truth to these words, no honesty. Remus was lying to him, and even though the reason for that was unclear to Sirius, he was convinced of it. It was a trick, maybe - a trick to get him to confess his own feelings, to spill his own secret. It had to be a trick.

But his brain did things all on its own without his consent: it considered the option that Remus was not lying to him and that this was not a trick. And once his brain had accepted this as a possibility, it started to file through the things that had happened, which hadn't made sense to Sirius then but would now with the new outlook on it:

When Sirius had had his first girlfriend in fifth year, Remus had hated her with a passion even though they had been on relatively good terms beforehand. James had only shrugged, but Sirius had known that he knew something. Both James and Remus had refused to explain, and Sirius had broken up with her four days later. He hadn't been that interested in her anyway. Or in fourth year, when Sirius had accidentally kissed another boy, who Remus had then avoided like the plague for months. Or in sixth year, when Sirius had stopped dating and snogging people because he couldn't compromise it with his feelings for Remus anymore, and his friend had been so incredibly curious to know why.

Or when sixteen-year-old Sirius had wanked at night in his bed, thinking he was the only one awake only to then hear the faint sounds coming from Remus's bed as he, too, had started jerking off. Sirius hadn't understood why Remus had been doing it, too. Why would he do this if he had heard Sirius? Surely he couldn't have been that turned on. Sirius also hadn't understood why he himself hadn't stopped once he had heard Remus. He had known that he had been that turned on by the sound of his friend touching himself because, after all, he had fantasised about touching Remus plenty of times, too, but to think that he would wank to that? To think that he didn't even have the decency in himself to stop? To think that it had gotten better now that he knew that Remus was listening and turned on?

Sirius put his hands into his hair and shook his head. "No, Moony, please. You can't say this. You can't." His voice was shaky, threatening to break. His head was spinning, and Sirius felt as if he was about to faint. Desperately, he looked to the sofa and said, "I need to sit." So he sat, and Remus moved to the sofa with him. They sat far apart from each other but held eye contact.

Remus told him in a soft, apologetic voice, "I just wanted you to know."

"For how long?" Sirius asked because he needed to know. He needed to know if he should have taken all the missed opportunities. He needed to know if he should have acted on his feelings in sixth year or if he had been right to keep them to himself. He needed to know if he should have listened to James's advice before graduation when he had told him that Sirius should tell Remus before he didn't have the chance to anymore. He needed to know if all the touches and looks had been innocent or if there really had been something else. He needed to know if he could have made his last few years of school so much better or if his fear had been right to hold him back. He needed to know whether he had been right to stay up every night in Azkaban, looking out at the moon and wondering what if...

"Since fifth year," Remus answered, which made Sirius suck in a sharp breath. "But I think I was definitely sure in sixth year."

Sirius couldn't help but laugh, causing Remus to frown with worry and confusion. "Sixth year?" he asked, still laughing from the absurdity of it. Quickly, his laughter was mixed with tears, which were streaming down his cheeks uncontrollably.

Remus shifted a little in his seat, clearly feeling as though Sirius was making fun of him. But Sirius was not. He was making fun of himself for having believed his feelings so outrageous that he didn't even dare to tell Remus about them. For years, he had kept these feelings to himself because he had been so sure that they were one-sided. He had been so sure. Oh, how ridiculous he was. How humiliated.

"Sirius, please don't laugh," Remus said, and his voice brought Sirius down. "I don't understand what could be so funny about this. Can't you see that it took me a lot of time and courage to tell you this? And I don't appreciate you laughing at me for it like that."

Oh, how ridiculous, humiliated, and irrevocably in love Sirius was. He tilted his head to the side, studying his friend's face: the worry that creased his forehead, his slightly narrowed eyes and parted lips. Remus was beautiful. He was so much older now than when Sirius had first looked at him with different eyes. He was older, but he was just as beautiful. His eyes were the same, his nose was the same, his lips... were... the same. Sirius's brain seemed to lag a little behind as his heart skipped a beat. Remus's lips. Which had said these meaningful words. Which Sirius had wanted to kiss for too many years. But something else had to be done first. Remus had been so brave. He had told Sirius his secret.

"I think I should reveal my secret now," Sirius said, and Remus perked up. "Then you might understand why I'm laughing."

"Is this the secret that James knows?" Remus asked, and Sirius nodded, slightly amused that Remus still hadn't figured out what the secret was. Was he, too, so convinced that Sirius couldn't possibly be in love with him? "Okay," Remus said a little shyly. "Okay, tell me."

Sirius took a deep breath. Okay. He had prepared for this moment for a long time, but now that it was here, he didn't quite know how to do this. He wanted to do it properly and wanted to give Remus the explanation he deserved. So Sirius would have to start at the beginning. He would have to start at the moment when his lips touched those of another boy for the first time in his life.

"You remember Robbie," he said. It wasn't a question, it was a statement, and by the way Remus's face soured, Sirius knew that he did, indeed, remember him. "You remember when I told you guys that night that I would never be the same again?" Remus nodded wordlessly.

"Well, I uh -" Sirius filed through every single word he had ever learned to pick the best ones and string them together in the best order to best convey what he wanted to say. "I went on kissing a lot of blokes after that, you know that. Girls, too, of course. But I- Okay, so -"

"Sirius, please, for the love of Merlin," Remus interrupted his babbling. "I just told you something really important, and you're rambling about all the people you've snogged? Well, congratulations, you're not a virgin. Good for you. Can we please move on now?"

Sirius nodded, acknowledging the fact that his best friend had gotten irritated. For good reason, he had to admit. This wasn't going as well as he had hoped, so he tried again. "Well, anyway, a little while after that when fifth year started and you came back to school with that new scar on your back, I kind of knew that uhm... That I- Well, I just realised that I felt differently about you than I did about James or Peter or anyone else for that matter. And once that realisation came, I tried to get over it by, well, snogging even more people. Because how could my friend be more satisfying than two or three people a day?"

Remus's eyes had grown wider, and they were gleaming in the sun. But the man was silent, as if he had forgotten every single word. He just stared at Sirius, waiting for him to go on.

"Obviously, that didn't work. I had to accept that came sixth year. Because at that point, you had stopped being my friend, and you had become... more." Sirius sighed. "I wanted to tell you, Moony, I really did. James told me to as well, but I just couldn't. I thought that you didn't feel the same and that I'd ruin our friendship forever if I had said something.

"There was that one full moon in sixth year. I don't know if you remember it, but I do. That night kept me going for a long time in -" Sirius swallowed. "Azkaban. It was a full moon like every other, a night we'd gone through a hundred times by then, but... The four of us headed out into the Forbidden Forest like we always did, all of us. James and Peter, too, of course. But you- The wolf, he didn't... You didn't want them. You took me by the neck with your teeth and just carried me away. When James and Peter wanted to follow, thinking that you were just playing, you -"

"I growled at them," Remus finished, suddenly remembering.

Sirius nodded. "Yeah," he breathed. "They never mentioned it again. Not to you anyway, but not to me either. I didn't understand what that night had meant, but James and Peter did. They suddenly understood. I was too ashamed of my own feelings to interpret any of the signs right. I was convinced that you didn't want me. Not like I want you."

Remus sucked in a sharp breath, making Sirius realise that he had used present-tense. He wanted Remus, and he was starting to understand that Remus wanted him, too. In the same way. Remus's confession was bringing pieces together in Sirius's head - puzzle pieces that had never fit into the whole picture. But now, he could see clearly. He could see the way Remus looked at him, his eyes soft like molten honey, and his lips twitched upwards in a careful smile. His head was tilted to the side as he listened to Sirius's babbling, and Sirius realised that neither James nor Peter nor any other friend of his had ever looked at him like that when he was talking. No one, not even the boys and girls Sirius had snogged in and outside of school, had looked at him so fondly, with so much genuine care and love for him. They were sitting closer together than before, but Sirius couldn't tell who had moved.

"I was going to tell you," Sirius carried on even though all he wanted was to lean in and make all the words obsolete. "I had a whole plan. At the graduation party we had at the Potter's, I wanted to tell you. While everyone else was in the garden, I took you inside. I had this whole speech planned, Moony. For a while in Azkaban, I recited that speech to myself word for word, again and again, but I don't remember it now. I was ready to do it because I thought if you hated me after that, then you wouldn't have to endure seeing my face every day in the dorm. But I took you inside. I was ready to do it."

Remus's eyes widened as the memory came back to him and he remembered what had happened when Sirius had taken him inside. It had been at the end of June in 1978, and when Sirius and Remus had gone into the living room, the radio had been playing an emergency announcement that You-Know-Who was on the move and had slaughtered an entire village except for two little wizards, who were now under the protection and training of the Death Eaters. He had been making bold moves over the past two weeks, but nothing of this scale had happened yet.

"I was going to tell you," Sirius repeated, his voice barely more than a whisper when he thought of all the missed opportunities, all the times he could have but hadn't.

"Tell me what, Padfoot?" Remus asked, and Sirius's eyes snapped up to his. They were glowing and dancing with humour. Remus knew exactly what Sirius meant, but he wanted him to say it out loud just as he had.

Sirius wanted to say it, he really did. There was nothing to stop him now except for his own pathetic fear, but even that was too late now. Why shouldn't he say it? He had nothing to lose. Remus had already said it. Remus had already been brave. Why couldn't Sirius be brave? Why was it so easy for Remus? His heart was beating in his throat as he opened his mouth, his lips and tongue way too dry.

"Tell you that I'm in love with you, Moony," Sirius said. "I wanted to tell you that I am madly in love with you and that I can't seem to stop. Through all this, all the pain and the sadness and the things I've already forgotten, this has always been true. I loved you then when it was just us two in the Forbidden Forest, and I loved you when I was locked away, and I love you now. I will always love you, Remus."

"I will love you even longer than that, Sirius," Remus breathed, and Sirius realised that they were now so close that he could feel his friend's words on his lips, but he couldn't tell who had moved. Sirius couldn't know that he was leaning in, but Remus was, too. Sirius couldn't know that he was begging to kiss him, and Remus was begging to be kissed. Sirius couldn't know that when he finally took the opportunity and closed the space between them after so many years of missed opportunities, Remus's heart was skipping a beat and promising to from now on beat only for Sirius.

Chapter Text

The kiss left Remus's head spinning and his heart fluttering madly inside his chest. He knew instantly that all the things he had had to experience, endure, and overcome were worth it just for this moment. Just for those few seconds in which his lips touched those of his best friend, the world seemed okay. There were no Dementors, no dead friends, and no traitorous ones either. Pain and fear didn't exist. They were stories so far from the truth, so far from all the love and happiness that Remus was feeling now. Those few seconds were everything he had longed for, and he hated that they hadn't managed to come sooner.

"Sirius," Remus whispered through a closed up throat as his and Sirius's foreheads were leaning against each other's and Sirius had his eyes closed.

"Shh," the other whispered, begging Remus to for once not overthink. For once, Remus should not be the one calculating every possible outcome. For once, he should be a little more like Sirius and enjoy the moment as it came. "Don't say anything, Moony. Just listen. Just feel."

Remus was silent, listening, and he heard. He could hear the beating of his heart still in his ears, more quiet than before and more calm. He could hear Sirius's breathing, soft and slow, in and out. Remus could feel it, too, the soft brush of air against his lips - an echo of the kiss they had just shared. He could feel the warmth that was rising between their bodies as they were settled together so closely now, and Sirius's hair against the side of his face as he was tilting his head forward to lean against Remus's.

Opening his eyes, Remus reached out with careful and trembling fingers and found Sirius's hands. He gently touched them only with his fingertips at first, and his breathing was accelerating again. Sirius's eyes opened, and they immediately found Remus's. A breath got caught in Remus's throat at the sight of the black eyes looking into his, so close and warm and understanding. Sirius turned his hands around, palms up in his lap, and let Remus caress them with curiosity. The two of them had held hands before, but never like this - never like more than just friends.

They were silent for a long time, neither of them wanting to disturb the magic that had wrapped around them and bound them together. Remus also didn't really know what to say. He felt that there was so much to say, but he couldn't put any of his thoughts into sentences, and he couldn't possibly speak these sentences out loud. He knew they would have to speak again at some point, and they would have to move, too, but he didn't want to. He wanted to stay like this forever and not leave this room, this sofa, this position. He didn't want to separate from Sirius ever again, even if he would have to starve to death.

Remus wanted to say something that wouldn't destroy this moment. He wanted to say something perfect, but Sirius beat him to it. "You know," he said, smirking his trademark Sirius-Black-grin, "you're really not such a hopeless case as you let us believe you are."

Remus leaned back, their foreheads unwillingly separating, and raised an eyebrow, though he was holding back a smile. "Oh, why thank you, great Sirius. It is a huge honour to have my skills be acknowledged by His Royal Highness."

Sirius laughed, and it was the first time since they had seen each other again that Remus was able to hear this wonderful sound. His eyes lit up as he watched his friend tilting his head back, letting out a heart-warming laugh. It was the first crack in the wall that Sirius had created around his heart; the first step to letting his old self shine through. But Sirius silenced again quickly, and when he tilted his head back down and slowly opened his eyes to find Remus's, they were soft and warm, and Remus's heart fluttered. He knew that this was all he had ever wanted - to have Sirius look at him like this - and he realised that Sirius might have looked at him like this before. Sirius's eyes might have been just as soft years ago, and he might have looked so longingly, but Remus just might have never noticed.

When Sirius leaned in closer again, Remus held his breath. He couldn't close his eyes even when he knew what was about to happen and that he should definitely not keep his eyes open in a moment like this. But it was truly just a magnificent sight, and one that Remus had never thought he would get to see, so he didn't want to miss out on a single thing. He wanted to see the way the face of the most beautiful man on earth came closer and closer to his own, the way the black lashes fluttered shut, and the entire face seemed to fall into relaxation. Remus didn't want to miss the way the rosy lips parted just slightly, and the breath that softly stroked his own lips.

"Moony," Sirius whispered, making Remus jump a little. They were so close now, their noses already touching and their lips just about to, when Sirius opened his eyes. Remus could feel himself blush in embarrassment at having been caught staring. "Close your eyes," Sirius whispered with a smile that made Remus feel like he was making fun of him a little. Or he was at least a little amused.

Doing as he was told, Remus shut his eyes, almost pressing them together until he felt soft lips against his own, and his eyes relaxed. His entire body seemed to relax. Where the first kiss had sucked all anxiety out of him, the second kiss was replacing it with relaxation. Sirius was careful and so, so gentle, and while Remus was sure he wouldn't survive a rougher kiss, he found himself being just a little disappointed.

At Hogwarts, Sirius had never once been this careful with all the blokes and girls. In fact, he had never been able to resist going deeper and harder and faster. Remus knew this because he had watched with angry eyes many times. Then again, he supposed that for one, Sirius wasn't who he had once been, and maybe he wasn't confident enough anymore to take charge of the kiss. That would be a problem, Remus thought, because he himself definitely was not suited to take charge. He didn't even know what he was doing and if he was doing it right. But maybe he even had to admit that Sirius was this soft because Remus wasn't just anyone. According to Sirius, Remus was the only person he had ever had feelings for. If that was the case, then Remus could definitely live with it. He didn't even want to acknowledge option three, which was that Sirius just simply didn't want to.

Slowly, Sirius's hands worked their way up Remus's sides, and they rested on his shoulders just for a moment before holding onto the sides of his neck. Before he could stop it, a soft whimper escaped Remus's lips. He squeezed his eyes shut, embarrassed, but Sirius didn't seem to mind. Quite the opposite, really. He sighed happily into the kiss and slid ever closer until their knees were touching, and there was no way he could have gotten any closer without climbing into Remus's lap.

Remus felt all kinds of things stirring inside of him as the feeling of Sirius overwhelmed him. He grabbed Sirius's hips, begging to get him so close that there was no space between them at all, but it was impossible in their position. Remus's eyebrows pulled together with need, and he leaned deeper into the kiss. He had waited all his life for this, and now that it was happening, Remus couldn't get enough. He was breathing hard as his heartbeat accelerated and his grip on Sirius intensified. Merlin, Remus pleaded, let me survive this.

But just before Remus could speed up, Sirius pulled away. He pulled away just enough that their lips separated, but he didn't move out of Remus's space. "Moony," he whispered again, and Remus squeezed his eyes shut in pain at the softness in the nickname. "I'm hungry."

Even though he knew that Sirius was only saying this to stop their kiss from becoming too rough and fast, Remus had to smile. Despite his entire being screaming gainst it, he leaned back and created more space between them than they had had in what seemed like an eternity. "Alright, Padfoot," he replied, enjoying that Sirius's eyes widened just a little at his own nickname, "let's get some breakfast."

As he got up, Remus pressed a kiss to Sirius's temple, and the other man snatched his wrist. He held Remus in place for a moment and pulled him down into another kiss. Sirius was still seated, and Remus was leaning over him, grinning against his lips. "Come on," he said and used his wrist in Sirius's grip to pull him to his feet.

The two men then went to the kitchen, and the morning proceeded just as the previous ones had. They sat down together, ate together, and then read the Daily Prophet together. Remus scanned the paper first before handing Sirius half of it. They would switch once they were done with their halves, but Remus had to make sure that there were no news about Harry or Peter that could surprise Sirius. He didn't intend on keeping any news from him, but Remus thought it better if he could at least prepare Sirius before ambushing him like that.

To his bad luck, news found their way into their midst one way or another. This time, it came attached to the leg of an impressive eagle owl, which Remus let in through the window by the kitchen sink. "It's from Dumbledore," he announced on his way back to the living room, where Sirius looked up at him with big, expectant eyes.

Remus sat down next to him, a little closer than he had before, and opened the letter. In his impressive handwriting, Dumbledore had written:

Dear Remus and friend,
I am, indeed, aware of another wizard's appearance in your neighbourhood. I have appointed Emmeline Vance to keep an eye on you, just for protection. I apologise for having neglected to mention this to you.

(Remus raised an eyebrow at this.)

She has informed me that she came across a hooded figure lingering about your building. After deciding that the person was behaving rather suspiciously, Vance accosted them and was hit by a Stunning Spell. Despite that, she managed to overpower the stranger just before he Disapparated and fled the scene. We are, as of yet, unaware who the wizard was and what his goal was, but rest assured that I am looking into it.
For the time being, I must ask you again to keep the dog inside the house at all times.

Remus looked at Sirius, whose scowl was depening with each line he read. "He sure likes to keep secrets, doesn't he?" Sirius asked once he reached the end of the letter, too, and looked up at Remus with a sceptial raised eyebow.

Remus shrugged because for the momet, that was all he could do to keep the anger from bubbling up inside of him. Indeed, secrets were Dumbledore's strong suit, and Remus sometimes resented the old man for it. He had kept too much from Remus already, and now this. Didn't he think Remus and Sirius had a right to know what was going on?

Why did he want to keep them isolated? It wasn't the case that Remus didn't enjoy this little bubble him and Sirius were in, but he had to be disillusioned at some point or another. The happenings were starting to get troublesome, and the two men were useless in their bubble. Harry had been entered in a deadly tournament without anyone knowing how or why. Peter was out there somewhere, and if he was anything like the Wormtail Remus remembered, he would go crawling back to the next person who could protect him: You-Know-Who. If he was biding his time like Remus, Dumbledore, and most others believed, then Peter would want to find shelter in his mercy. Remus couldn't let that happen. But he couldn't leave Sirius alone, and Sirius couldn't leave the flat, so Remus was stuck here, too.

"Why do you think he sent Emmeline here?" Remus asked Sirius.

They both remembered her from the First Wizarding War, but Remus had had no idea that Dumbledore was still in contact with her like this and giving her orders. He wondered how many people knew the truth about Sirius and how many knew about his whereabouts. Many years ago, Emmeline had been a good friend, and Remus was a little disappointed that she hadn't written him or rang his door to say hello. It could only make him think that Dumbledore had intended to keep her a secret from Sirius and Remus.

Sirius shrugged. "Dunno," he said. "Like you said, you're more than enough for my protection."

Remus laughed despite himself. "Yes, well, I suppose she's here for my protection, then."

"She must be," Sirius agreed with a wide smile that made Remus believe in everything he was saying. "After all, you're here with a notorious mass-murderer."

Rolling his eyes, Remus shoved Sirius's shoulder, and the other man let out a laugh. He snapped back to Remus like a rubber band, putting their faces close together and robbing Remus of all his senses. He would never get used to this; he knew it. Unfortunately, Sirius stopped just before the tips of their noses touched, and his lips spread into the widest grin yet. Remus couldn't even be mad that his friend was teasing him because he hadn't seen that grin in too long, and he had missed it too bloody much.

"You're so cute when you're blushing, Moony," Sirius said, his eyes rushing over Remus's face, and it sounded so much like something Sirius might have said in the Gryffindor common room once when he had given Remus an innocent little compliment and Remus had blushed and stammered a thanks before hiding behind his book, causing both Sirius and James to frown at each other in utter confusion.

Just as Sirius wanted to lean back, deciding that his tease had gone perfectly, Remus grabbed a handful of Sirius's borrowed jumper in his fist and held him in place. Remus leaned in himself, keeping his eyes fixed on Sirius's widening ones. When Remus was close enough to feel the man's body heat and his nose softly brushing his, Sirius's tongue flicked acoss his bottom lip, leaving it glistening and enticing, and Remus's eyes snapped down to follow the movement. His heart was speeding up when the realisation dawned on him that Sirius was preparing for a kiss. He wanted to kiss Remus. To finally be wanted by the man Remus wanted, to finally be loved by the man Remus loved, was almost too much for him to bear.

"You're not so bad yourself, Pads," Remus whispered back, his voice barely audible if it hadn't been for their closeness.

For the fifth (and still not enough) time that day, their lips touched. There was that fire inside of him again; that hope that was keeping him alive and warm. Remus could barely believe what was happening even as it was happening to him. His brain could barely comprehend that his lips were touching Sirius's. Sirius! Remus had waited and waited, had imagined every possible way Sirius felt and tasted, and he had been wrong. Every single thing he had come up with had been so, so wrong. Sirius didn't taste like cigarettes - not anymore - and didn't feel hard and rough. He tasted like Sirius, and he felt like Sirius, and despite the jumper and the shampoo belonging to Remus, Sirius even smelled like Sirius. There was no other way to describe it. He was without flaw. He was everything. He was Sirius.

Remus let out a sound of want and need, pressing himself against the other man. He wasn't sure how long he could keep this up without combusting. He had been dreaming of doing things to Sirius and vice-versa for so long that he didn't know how much longer he could put it off now that the opportunity was here. He wanted, he needed,  to unite with Sirius in every way. They were already entangled emotionally, their fates and lives having twisted around each other forever, but Remus longed for their bodies to be entangled as well. He wanted to feel Sirius like he had never felt another person before, wanted to make him arch his back and tilt his head back, wanted to make him moan and beg and plead. Remus wanted to make Sirius his in every way, and he wanted Sirius to make him his.

Sirius ran his hands through Remus's hair, and Remus couldn't take it anymore. His lips left the others and explored Sirius's jaw, which was clean-shaven and soft. Remus pressed hasty kisses along the sharp edge, hungrily making his way to the tender spot behind Sirius's ear, which pulled a soft moan from Sirius's lips. He rolled his head back, giving Remus better access, and grabbed Remus's shoulders a little tighter. Remus was already looking forward to Sirius's rougher side when Sirius used his grip to pull Remus off of him.

Their eyes met, both wide and excited, and both men were panting with parted lips. "We should stop, Moony," Sirius gasped, looking as though he thoroughly regretted having said those words.

Lost for words other than "why," Remus nodded and swallowed thickly. If Sirius wanted to stop, Remus would stop. That didn't prevent him from feeling a little sorry for himself when his friend slid farther down the couch and reached for the Daily Prophet again. That was that, then.

A million thoughts were flooding Remus's brain all at once, making him incredibly self-conscious; way more so than he had thought a man his age to be capable of. Overwhelmed and suddenly sick to his stomach, Remus got to his feet. "Going to the loo," he said quickly before hurrying out of the room and slamming the bathroom door behind himself. He hastened to the toilet and dropped to his knees, expecting to vomit. But all that came were tears, and Remus dropped himself back onto the rug. He buried his face into his hands and cried. He found that he had cried quite a lot recently, and he wasn't surprised that he had done so every time because of Sirius.

Once he had woken up in the Forbidden Forest alone and registered what had happened, he had cried for the first time in a while after a transformation, ashamed of not having been there when the children and Sirius had needed him. And then, when he had been told that Peter had managed to escape and Sirius's wasn't a free man but a fugitive still, he had cried again, although he had held it in until after his talk with Harry. Remus had cried when he had written that last letter to Sirius after about a dozen had been left unanswered.

But now, he didn't quite know why he was crying. Wasn't he like Sirius had imagined? Was he not good enough for him? Had the years apart only made Sirius believe that his feelings were stronger and bigger than they actually were? Was Remus not as good-looking as he had used to be when Sirius had fallen for him? Was he not a good enough kisser? He was willing to learn if Sirius was willing to teach. Was something so irreparably broken between them that Sirius couldn't even force a connection? Was it Remus's betrayal that had broken it? Was it Azkaban? Had the Dementors broken something? Remus didn't want to change anything about their situation if that was the case. But somehow, he didn't believe it. Somehow, he was convinced that it wasn't the Dementors at all. It was all him.

Chapter Text

Days passed, the end of February and Harry's second task rapidly approaching, and neither Remus nor Sirius had mentioned Remus's little outbreak in the bathroom although he was fairly certain Sirius knew what it had been about. Remus wasn't sure why his friend hadn't asked, but he was eternally grateful for it. He didn't know how to explain to the man he had just kissed that he was upset because he didn't know if the kiss had been good enough for Sirius. After all, he was the one with all the experience.

They had kissed again, though - just a few little pecks here and there, but their lips had touched, and that was enough for Remus. They got a little closer each day, sitting knee-to-knee on the couch when reading the newspaper, brushing hands more often than necessary when handing around bowls of food, and touching their feet against each other whenever the opportunity arised. Every time their two bodies made contact, sparks and shivers ran through Remus, and he wanted nothing more than to wrap himself around Sirius and keep him safe forever.

With each passing day, Remus felt like progress was being made. Ever since he had shown up on Remus's doorstep, Sirius had seemed fragile, as though a single touch could break him and he would shatter into pieces. He had avoided physical contact, something so unusual for the Sirius Black Remus had once known. But the breakthrough came, and it came with the full moon. Remus had been on edge for the past two days, grinding his teeth at every small inconvenience and putting Sirius at the receiving end of many snappy remarks. He wanted to apologise, but Sirius always stopped him with the words, "I know, Moony. I know."

Dumbledore had been very thorough in picking this flat for Remus to live in. Not only did he have a beautiful view from up there and not far to walk to Diagon Alley, but he was also the only person with access to the basement, which was so large it could be a garage for the whole building. Remus knew that the basement had once been in use, but Dumbledore was a wizard who wasn't afraid of doing what was necessary. Remus kept telling Sirius that he would be alright going alone because he had the Wolfsbane potion after all (courtesy of one reluctant Severus Snape), but Sirius wouldn't hear it. Even then, when the evening came around and it was time for Remus to go, his friend was arguing vehemently.

"I'm going with you," he said sternly, "and you can't stop me."

"Sirius -"

"No, Moony." Remus's protests were falling on deaf ears, making him sigh. "It's bad enough that you have to do this in a basement of all places. Remus, you used to have an entire forest. The least you can have back is your best friend."

Remus shrugged like it was no big deal, but he was truly touched by Sirius's determination to be with him. "It's not like I can just be let loose in the neighbourhood."

"You can't stop me from going with you," Sirius stated again, and Remus knew that voice. It was leaving him no choice.

So, finally giving in, Remus nodded. He almost rolled his eyes as Sirius's face lit up. He had achieved his goal. He was just as determined as ever. And just as irresistible. They made their way down the hall and all the way downstairs. By the time they reached the third floor, Remus was panting even though he was used to this, having made this same trip plenty of times before; always alone. Obviously, he was glad to have Sirius with him now instead of going on his own again, but Remus wasn't sure if this was still too soon for them. Too familiar.

They reached the dark basement, both panting and Remus's joints screaming for release. He could just hear Sirius's remark about the basement being way less cosy than the Shrieking Shack before Remus was the one doing the screaming. Sirius didn't hesitate to put both of his hands on Remus's shoulders, locking eyes with him until Remus's body was on fire, twisting and transforming into his worst nightmare. Where Sirius had stood just a second before was now the wolf's best friend. And Padfoot stayed with him all night.

The next morning, Remus woke up to find himself in the position he had found himself once every month for years. Too many months to count. Too many times, he had woken up like that; naked and vulnerable and hurting. Although this night had been less awful than many others, his body was never alright after a full moon. Remus wasn't cold despite his body shivering, but the dog was pressed so closely against his body, and the thick black fur was keeping him warm. For a moment right after waking up and realising where he was, Remus scanned the room for his two other friends. He was looking for James and Peter, and tears flooded his eyes. They weren't there and they wouldn't come. Remus buried his fingers in the fur and held Padfoot in his arms. Noticing that Remus was awake, the dog looked up at him with big eyes.

"Hey, Pads," Remus whispered, his voice hoarse from howling all night in the magically soundproof basement. And then his voice broke, and Remus cried. This was all so familiar to him, it was overwhelming. He was cuddling with Padfoot after a full moon, but Prongs and Wormtail weren't there. This was nothing like back then. Everything had changed. And yet Padfoot was still here, still with him.

When Sirius realised that Remus was crying, he transformed back into his human form, right there in Remus's embrace. He wrapped his arms around Remus and pulled him closer on the cold floor, letting him cry into his chest. Remus didn't want to cry, he really didn't, but he couldn't help it. It had been a long time since he felt this many emotions at the same time.

And when Sirius cupped the back of Remus's neck with his hand and whispered, "Shh, it's alright, Moony. It's okay," Remus lost it. He was sobbing, and he didn't have it in him to hold back anymore. They stayed like this for a while - Remus naked, shivering and crying, and Sirius holding him and rubbing his hand up and down his back to keep him somewhat warm.

"Come on then, Moons," Sirius whispered after a while when Remus was close to drifting off into exhausted sleep again. "Let's get you to bed."

Remus couldn't do much except for mumble in reluctant agreement and let himself be helped to his feet by Sirius. Since Remus now had the Wolfsbane Potion to keep his mind while transforming, he didn't have any injuries anymore, which let Madam Pomfrey off the hook for having to look after him. His body was, however, still tender and aching from the transformation itself, and Remus was having trouble walking up the stairs to his flat. He had gone through this many times before since moving in, but he usually allowed himself more time in the basement before returning back to his flat. Today, however, he didn't want to keep Sirius down there for too long, so he gritted his teeth and clawed his way upstairs.

He should have given Sirius more credit, though, if Remus had thought that his pain would go unnoticed by his best friend. After all, Sirius had watched Remus struggle after uncountable full moons in the many years they had known each other, and he was very attentive to Remus's needs. That was why, in the middle of the hallway, two flights down from Remus's flat, Sirius took Remus's arm and wrapped it around his shoulders while wrapping his own arm around Remus's waist. This relieved Remus of most of his weight, and he let his friend support him all the way to his door.

"You'd think Dumbledore could have gotten you a flat farther down," Sirius panted as he dropped Remus to the couch before slumping down next to him, clearly exhausted.

Remus gave him a smile. "Actually, I asked for one this far up."

This made Sirius look at him with a frown. "Why on Earth would you do that?"

As he shrugged, Remus's smile turned a little shy. He just now realised how pathetic he had been to request such a thing. "I thought maybe you'd appreciate the view up here."

To his surprise, Sirius looked somewhere between appalled and touched. "You were right about that, of course. When I can't sleep, I sit by the window and just look outside," Sirius told him. This was news to Remus, but he took the confession with teary-eyed gratitude. "But you shouldn't give up your well-being just so I have a great view over the city, you idiot."

A laugh escaped Remus's throat. It was good to hear Sirius calling him an idiot again - way better than them being careful and coddling with their words all the damn time. It was almost like old times again, when Remus would tell Sirius he was being stubborn, and Sirius would call him an idiot for not recognising Sirius's stubbornness for what it really was: concern and love for Remus. Only James was missing, calling both of them blithering idiots for what they did not know: that they were both in love with each other. And Peter was missing, too, snorting a laugh as he watched his friends bicker with each other because he knew what they all knew even when they were arguing: that they loved each other more than they loved most anyone else.

"I wanted to bring you closer to the stars," Remus whispered, ashamed of his words.

But he didn't regret having said them when Sirius was close to him in an instant, his hands softly cradling his face. "Thank you, Moony," Sirius whispered back, and Remus's cheeks grew hot. Although he hadn't said which star in particular, there was no need for it at the sight of the look in Sirius's eyes. He knew. "Can I kiss you, or does it hurt?"

Remus nodded, then shook his head, then nodded again. He could see the confusion in Sirius's eyes as they were so close together, so he said, "Pain is a part of life," and let Sirius kiss him. He was careful, Remus could tell, so as to not hurt him. Remus was sure that he would have survived a rougher kiss just as well, but he appreciated his friend's concern and didn't complain.

Both of them took a nap then, wrapped around each other on the couch like in the old days in the common room in front of the fireplace. When Remus woke up again, a fire was burning here, too, and Sirius was absentmindedly running his hands through Remus's hair as he was reading a book. Only when Remus took a deep breath and stretched did Sirius realise that he was awake and put his book away, opening his arms to let Remus crawl out. He wasn't surprised to find Sirius awake already and even less surprised at the dark circles under his eyes.

As far as Remus knew, Sirius wasn't sleeping much these days. Not even when he had shared the bed with Remus last time had Sirius been able to sleep longer than until the sunrise. Remus had found himself wondering many times whether that had been because Sirius had still been as unsure about Remus's feelings towards him just as it had been the other way around. Then, Remus would wonder whether their confessions would allow Sirius to sleep peacefully next to Remus now. He had never found the courage to ask, let alone approach the subject of sleep again.

"Want me to make some lunch?" Sirius asked carefully.

It was obvious to Remus that Sirius still wasn't used to being away from the Hogwarts hospital wing after a full moon. Maybe if Poppy were to come by, even just for show, it would put Sirius a little more at ease, but Remus was afraid that this might be a bit much to ask from the healer. She was, after all, very busy at Hogwarts, and she was especially needed now that the Triwizard Tournament was taking place. For a second, Remus thought of Harry, and he hoped that the boy wouldn't need Poppy Pomfrey at all this year. It would be a nice change, he thought, for Harry to go through at least one schoolyear unharmed.

"I think I'm okay," Remus replied and tried a smile, forcing down the thoughts of Harry in danger. He couldn't allow himself to think like this. Harry had to be safe. Under any circumstances. "But if you're hungry..."

Sirius was on his feet in an instant, and Remus chuckled. "Thanks," Sirius said, already on his way to the kitchen. "I'm starving, actually."

Remus enjoyed watching Sirius doing mundane things such as boiling eggs, buttering toast, and topping it with cheese. It was good to see him eat, too. Remus didn't take for granted that Sirius was eating now, trying to gain his strength back and to fill up his hollowed-out form. There had been a time when Sirius hadn't eaten - beyond his year on the run, even far beyond his years in Azkaban.

Remus remembered exactly how Sirius had looked when he had shown up on the Hogwarts Express for the start of sixth year, and he remembered James having whispered to him that Sirius had refused to eat for days. Those days had stretched into weeks, and it had gotten so bad that Sirius even stayed entirely absent from the meals in the Great Hall. The Marauders had been at a loss for what to do, not having any experience with things like this at their young age.

One evening after dinner, they had found Sirius kneeling on the floor in their dorm, and he was crying. His face was in his hands, his hair hanging down to hide him completely. He was skinny, and though it had been far from the way he was now, the contrast had been stark enough. He had thrown up, or at least tried to, ending up mostly dry-heaving because his stomach had been empty to begin with. James threw himself to his knees beside his brother while Peter hurried to clean up the mess. Remus, however, stood transfixed in the doorway, shocked to his core at the sight of his once so vibrant friend looking feeble and grey. Remus could see no other way, and his feet carried him all on their own down to the Slytherin dungeons, where he caused a scene and ran back to Gryffindor tower with help on his heels. That had been the last time Sirius Black had skipped a meal.

But he was eating now, and Remus committed to memory every part of Sirius's face and body so he could later on fully appreciate how much healthier his friend had gotten. Watching Sirius eat made Remus hungry, too, and once his stomach didn't feel nauseous anymore, he decided he might try to eat something. Sirius must have seen something on Remus's face, or maybe he just knew him so well because he immediately, wordlessly, handed Remus the sandwich he had just assembled. Grateful for more than just the simple gesture of providing Remus with food unasked, Remus took the sandwich and gave Sirius a bright smile in return. He could almost see his friend's eyes lighting up, and he knew that it was all worth it.

Every time they sat together in the living room, playing cards or wizard's chess, the shocking realisation hit Remus that he had almost forgotten how nice it was. For many years, he had held onto the memories he had of his friends in the common room, in the halls of Hogwarts and in the classes, as well as James and Lily's house, and the small flat Remus had had before the war where they had sometimes gathered. He had firmly believed that he had kept these memories so close that they had never faded. Only now, sitting in his own living room with Sirius, did he realise that while the memories were still very much there, they had faded a little. It was like the colours of a photograph, muted by time. Remus didn't mind this quite as much as he had thought he would. He would never forget his friends and the good days he'd had with them when life had been less... tragic, but he was glad that the colour of him and Sirius right here in the moment was as bright and vibrant as ever.

He was beaten again by Sirius for the third time in a row, and Remus sighed overly dramatic. "Can't you let me win at least once?" he asked, whining even though he really didn't mind being beaten by Sirius in anything, let alone wizard's chess. Remus had never liked the game much; he'd only ever played when his friends had asked him to. That was, probably, why he had stayed rubbish at it.

Sirius was grinning as he leaned back against the couch from where they were sitting on the carpet by the fireplace. He took a sip of his cup before putting it down with a haughty look on his face. "You, my friend, did not improve at all," he pointed out rather unnecessarily, Remus found. "You had so many years to practice, Remus. What did you waste it with instead?"

It was supposed to look like a simple, harmless question, but as much as Sirius knew Remus, Remus knew Sirius. And he knew that his friend had put a ton of thought into posing that question, revising and refining how exactly to form the words. Remus knew that by asking this, Sirius wasn't just being funny. He really, genuinely wanted to know. And Remus realised that they had never talked about what he had been doing in the twelve years Sirius had been locked up. He had never told him because he had thought it to be insensitive to talk about his time outside of a cell while Sirius had to wither inside of one.

"Nothing much, really," Remus said and poured himself another cup of tea just so he had something to do with his hands. He didn't quite enjoy this subject, flaunting his freedom to a man who had been wrongfully imprisoned for twelve years, missing crucial years in his godson's life as well as the opportunity to explore his feelings towards Remus.

However, Sirius rolled his eyes and looked rather nonchalant when he shrugged and said, "Come on. Can't have been worse than my time. So humour me."

"Well, what do you want to know?" Remus asked. He went through his past twelve-and-something years in his head, jumping from the jobs he had had to the people he had met, but he had no idea which of this Sirius wanted to know.

"Everything," Sirius said, much to Remus's surprise. It really wasn't all that interesting, but Sirius knew the look on Remus's face well enough to cut him off before he was able to argue. "Start at the beginning."

The beginning. How ironic, Remus thought, that Sirius would call this the beginning when really, it was the end. The end of everything. Remus didn't comment on this out loud, so instead, he just fell into a sort of monologue, hoping Sirius would interrupt him when he was getting too boring.

"Well, in the beginning, after, you know, everything, I travelled for a little while."

Sirius's eyes lit up at that, clearly not having expected this. "Travelled?" he asked. "Blimey, Moony, where did you go?"

Remus blushed a little. "Nothing grand, Sirius. You know that James... provided for me." An embarrassed flush spread across Remus's cheeks, but Sirius only nodded him along. "And, well, after him and Lily... when they were..."

It was hard to find the right words to say this. Remus couldn't even think of words as final as "dead" or "gone," and he downright refused to say them out loud. These were his friends, and they weren't dead - they lived on in the memories of everyone who had known them and in their son. They weren't gone, either - they were right there with Remus whenever he needed them. So, really, there was no way for him to put this into words. But Sirius, of course, he knew. He knew why Remus was struggling, just as Sirius was struggling himself. He reached over, a rough hand finding Remus's next to the forgotten chessboard, and smiled.

"So you used his money to travel, then?"

Glad for the help, Remus nodded. "Yes," he croaked and blinked the tears away. "Yes, I used his money to travel. It seemed like the right thing to do; to use it for something they would have enjoyed. So I travelled through England for a bit, then moved on to Scotland. Oh, and I met a few interesting people in Ireland. They invited me to go with them for a while, so I did, and it cost me close to nothing."

Sirius was beaming, but there was also a hint of something else when he asked, "What kind of poeple?" He sounded apprehensive, and maybe even a little jealous if Remus wasn't mistaken.

There was no reason for that, of course, so Remus decided that he was mistaken. "Wizards, but they didn't really use magic. They said they wanted to enjoy the world the way the Muggles did. They lived in tents and made it their mission to travel the world."

"The whole world?"

Remus smiled and nodded. "The whole world. Though I only stayed with them for two weeks or so, maybe."

"And then you went back home?"

Remus nodded again. "Home, yeah." His thoughts drifted off for a moment, thinking that it had barely been a home anymore when all of his friends were gone. That was also a reason why Remus had decided to travel for a few months: wanting to get out of his depressing surroundings and get some air. "I went to see Dumbledore, then."

That made Sirius straighten up, surprised. "Dumbledore? What about?"

"Well, when... everything happened, I sort of... broke apart." Remus found it hard to put his feelings into words, not wanting to make his own struggles back then bigger than they had been in the face of Sirius's downright cruel situation.

Once again, however, Sirius wouldn't let Remus feel like this. He gave his hand a little squeeze, smiled at him, and said, "Go on. I know, Moony, don't worry."

Remus took a deep breath. It had been years since he had allowed himself to think about this, and he had not yet once voiced his failures out loud. He had failed more than Sirius back then. Not finding out the truth and clearing his name was Remus's biggest shame. But there had been someone else in need of Remus. And he had let him down, too.

"I wanted to take Harry in," Remus finally said, putting the words out there for the first time ever. Sirius's face fell a little, obviously surprised, but he kept holding Remus's hand without a waver in his confidence. "I'm his uncle, too, you know?" Remus said, and Sirius nodded. "But that night when everything happened, I couldn't do it. I couldn’t do it to him because I just wasn't in the right headspace for raising a child. Let alone the child of the friends I had just lost. He deserved more than me. But when I came back from my trip, I went to see Dumbleore and asked him if I could take Harry now. He was still so little, you see? Barely three years old. It wouldn't have confused him to grow up with me insead of the Muggles."

"But Dumbledore didn't let you?"

Remus shook his head. "He said Harry needed the protection of Lily's sister. Said it was crucial that he lived with her. Besides..." Remus took a breath. "Someone... like me... isn't a good fit to raise a child."

This made Sirius draw back, pulling his hand off of Remus's. His face twisted into an appalled expression that Remus hadn't seen in a while. "Did he say that? Dumbledore?" Sirius's voice was filled with malice, rage simmering beneath it and ready to burst out at the slightest sign of agreement from Remus.

Sirius, Lily, and the other Marauders had always been particularly touchy about this subject. And fiercely protective, too. They wouldn't allow anyone, including Remus, to make nasty quips and remarks about his condition. That was why Remus knew that he couldn't tell Sirius what Dumbledore had said. Even though Sirius might not want to hear it, it had been the truth, after all.

"Think of who you are, Remus," Dumbledore had said with a soft voice. "Once a month, it would be too dangerous for a child to be around you."

Remus had nodded, then shaken his head as possibilities and solutions flooded his mind, shoving the agreement far away. "No, Dumbledore, sir, it could work. I come to Hogwarts to transform anyway, so I could bring him with me. He would be safe in the castle, and he would be around people. People who love him!"

"Remus, my boy, I'm begging you to think this through. It may work while he is still just a baby, but he will grow. He will get older and ask questions, and he will not want to be carried around like luggage every month."

Remus had known that it had been hippogriff dung. He had known that Harry would love Hogwarts and that he would be happy to come once a month, no matter for what reason. And Remus had fought. He had fought tooth and nail to make the old man see reason, but Dumbledore wouldn't let up. "Petunia's protection is crucial," he had said. "And that is final." Remus had been forced to leave the office with a heavy heart. He wouldn't even be allowed to visit the boy, seeing as his Muggle family had a problem with anything magical or related to the boy's parents. Remus had fought for Harry, yes, but one of his biggest regrets was perhaps not having fought enough. Not like he had for Sirius just recently.

"No," Remus finally lied, shaking his head. "No, he didn't say that. I said that. But still," he sighed, "I would have liked to have him with me."

"You're his Uncle Moony," Sirius stated with a wide grin.

But Remus couldn't bring himself to turn his smile happy. "No," he said, "I'm his Professor Lupin."

Silence fell between them because they both knew that it was the truth. Had things been different, Remus would be Harry's Uncle Moony, and Sirius would be his Uncle Padfoot. Instead, they were Harry's teacher and godfather that he had known nothing about up until a year ago. Things weren't different, the circumstances were just these, but they were still family. Despite Harry not having known about them until last year, Sirius and Remus had spent every day of his life thinking about him and loving him from afar. He was their family, their responsibility, and Sirius and Remus would do everything in their power to catch up on the stolen time.

"Well, but Dumbledore helped you get a job, right?" Sirius asked. "He's always been very adamant about you coming to ask him."

Nodding and entirely grateful for the change of topic, Remus told him, "Yes, he did. Multiple times. Whenever I had to leave a job, Dumbledore found me another one almost immediately. I had to move around for a while, from job to job, but I got by just fine."

He could see in Sirius's face how the idea of Remus never having any consistency and never being able to settle down long-term in a job horrified Sirius. He was really just the same Sirius from school: more than anything protective of Remus and angry if things didn't go smoothly for him. But Remus didn't mind - well, that wasn't true, he did mind quite a bit - but he was used to it. He knew that someone like him, someone with his condition, could neither raise a child nor stay in one place for too long until someone found out about him. As even his employment at Hogwarts under the very man who had helped him get said jobs proved.

"So what about any girfriends?" Sirius asked. "Or... boyfriends?"

There was this edge to his voice again that Remus had thought to have detected earlier, too, and now he had to realise that it was, in fact, jealousy. That knowledge made him blush. Sirius was jealous. And what was more, he was jealous of someone who didn't exist. Remus hadn't had a partner since school, and even those didn't quite count because he had been terribly in love with his best friend even while dating the others for a few short weeks.

But when he shook his head and told Sirius entirely truthfully that there hadn't been anyone at all - man or woman - Sirius raised a sceptical eyebrow. "You don't have to lie to spare my feelings," he said, trying very hard (and failing) to make his voice sound light and carefree. "I'm not blind, Moony. I know what you look like. There must have been at least a dozen people who knew, too."

The blush on Remus's cheeks deepened, and he looked away so Sirius wouldn't see. It was no use, of course, because Remus's ears were feeling just as hot, and he could swear that Sirius was grinning because he knew what his compliment was doing to Remus. "No, well, I mean, in that group in Ireland was a witch, who, I guess, liked me."

"Oh, she liked you, alright," Sirius smirked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Remus shook his head again, violently rejecting the insinuation. "No, Sirius, it really wasn't that. Those people have been travelling together for months; things were bound to feel a little... incestuous after a while."

A laugh ripped from Sirius's lips. "Don't sell yourself short like that, Moons. I'm sure she would have liked you even if you weren't the only choice left in the group."

Remus rolled his eyes. "You're hilarious," he deadpanned.

"I know, right?" Sirius was grinning again, that wide grin of his that made his features go soft and his eyes light up. "Now this witch and you... You never...?"

"No, Sirius, I told you. I haven't. With anyone," Remus insisted.

Sirius, however, didn't seem to want to believe him. "In all twelve years?"

"Going on sixteen, to be exact."

"Bloody hell, Moony," Sirius breathed, somewhere between astounded, relieved, and shocked. "Why the hell not?"

Remus shrugged. Well, there went his ears again, turning red. He hated those damn things. "The person I wanted to do things with just happened to be out of reach."

Now, it was Sirius's turn to blush, and Remus's eyes widened a little at the sight. Sirius was by far not as easy to fluster, so whenever it did happen, it was a sight to behold. "You shouldn't say things like that," he said, trying to keep his voice steady and firm to let Remus know that he was being serious.

Remus, however, felt a surge of bravery at the sight of the red tinge on his lover's cheeks and the shy smile that was curling his beautiful lips. "Why not?" he asked, his voice smooth and shockingly seductive.

Even Sirius had noticed the undertone, and his eyes widened again almost imperceptibly. He moved away a little, sliding farther to the other end of the coffee table. "Because," he replied.

Remus laughed. "Because? That's your great reason?"

"Well, yes," Sirius mumbled. "Because."

Something was wrong. Remus could feel it in the air, could almost taste it on his tongue, but he didn't know what it was. What wasn't Sirius telling him? Doubts creeped up again, tugging at Remus, trying to drag him back underwater. Was Sirius not brave enough to tell Remus that he didn't want him? That he had changed his mind and wasn't in love with Remus at all? Was he not brave enough to break Remus's heart? It was unfair, Remus thought, that those past twelve years had put his romantic development and experience on a standstill, and now he was forced to feel emotions like a teenager did. He was forced to be jealous too swiftly, insecure too easily, and horny too quickly. And he guessed that Sirius must be going through the same thing now. They had both been ripped out of their romantic and sexual journey too soon, even if in two different ways.

However, Remus refused to let these doubts drag him down this time. The way Sirius had held him in the basement this morning told him that Sirius was in love with him. The way Sirius's eyes sparkled like they hadn't in years when he looked at Remus told him that his doubts were unfounded. And Remus clung onto that like a lifeline, pulling himself back to land. He wouldn't drown. Not today.

"What's going on, Sirius?" he asked. "You've been acting weird all week. Since we kissed for the first time. I want to know what's going on."

Sirius leaned back against the couch and tilted his head back into his neck. "Promise you won't be mad?" he asked against the ceiling.

Despite his heart speeding up, Remus nodded, then swallowed thickly past the knot in his throat. "I promise."

Chapter Text

"I can't kiss you for too long," Sirius said, and when he saw Remus's face fall, he heartbreakingly realised how that had sounded. He rushed to correct his mistake, but the damage had been done: Remus was on his feet, backing away. Sirius jumped to his feet, too, ignoring the sudden throbbing ache in his left knee. He was getting old. He reached out a helpless hand, wildly gesturing between the two of them as he tried to make Remus understand. "No, Moony, don't- Don't look like that. I didn't mean -"

"No, Sirius, you know what? It's perfectly alright," Remus insisted. "Really." He nodded once as if to convince himself of what he was saying. "I know that I'm not good at it like you are. Hell, I know I'm probably worse than anyone else you've ever kissed before. I just thought you might enjoy kissing me more than anyone else."

"Fuck, and I do, Moony," Sirius whined. How could he have messed this up so badly? How could he have worded this so poorly? He was truly not as smooth as he had once been. Although he had never been particularly smooth around Remus. Around him, Sirius had been fumbling for words all his life, and more often than not blabbed the wrong ones.

Remus was backing up further, so much that there were now several feet between them where none should be. Their bodies should be pressed flush together; no distance, no layers, no clothes between them. They should be as close as two people could be, and yet Remus was almost not even in the living room anymore. If Sirius didn't say the right words out loud soon, Remus would be gone, and he would be on his own, left to deal with the mess he'd made.

"It's alright," Remus repeated, slowly turning away to head down the hallway to his room. "I'm still a bit tired and achy from the moon. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Say something, Sirius pleaded with himself. Say something, or he'll leave and you'll have fucked up royally. He had to say something, preferably exactly what he was thinking. As Remus's back was already fully turned towards him, Sirius ran a hand across his face and called after him, "Wait, Moony." Remus stopped, but he didn't  turn back around, so Sirius rounded the coffee table and crossed the living room in a few big steps until he was barely three feet behind Remus, where he stopped. He didn't want Remus to have to look at him if he didn't want to, and maybe saying this withoout seeing the man's expression would make this a bit easier for Sirius, too.

"I can't kiss you for too long," he repeated, "because if I do, I won't be able to stop myself."

That, finally, made Remus turn around, and his big eyes made Sirius suck in a sharp breath. "And you want to stop yourself?"

Sirius couldn't help the little snort that slipped past his lips. No, Moony, you idiot. But he didn't say this. He said, "Are you joking?" Remus's eyes narrowed, and he pursed his lips. Okay, not in the mood for jokes. Got it.

"No, Remus. I don't ever want to stop myself when I'm with you. Besides, what was that nonsense about you being bad at this? You're bloody amazing at this!"

Remus narrowed his eyes even more, but that didn't stop the adorable blush from settling down on his cheeks. Sirius wished he could kiss the soft tinged skin and tell Remus how great he was. It wasn't that easy, though, because even though Sirius was thinking all these great things about Remus, he found it indescribably hard to say them out loud. He didn't know what made it so difficult for him, but he also refused to think about it for too hard. He refused to think about the last time he had told someone how great they were and how much more they could be than what they thought of themselves. He refused to remember what had happened after he had said those things.

"Then why?" Remus asked, and his voice sounded so sad that Sirius wanted nothing more than to say it. Say those words that he wasn't able to. It couldn't be harder than "I love you," could it?

"Because you deserve more."

Remus drew back a little, surprised. It was clearly evident in the expression on his face that he had no idea what Sirius was talking about, and it warmed Sirius's heart. He allowed himself to believe that Remus thought of Sirius as someone deserving of Remus's love. Even if he himself didn't believe so.

"You know my history with dating. You know how I was around the girls and blokes at school. You said so yourself. And I don't want you to think that this is that," Sirius clarified, and with every word he spoke, understanding crept into Remus's expression.

"You deserve more than careless sex and sneaking out afterwards. You deserve more than me ripping your clothes off at the first chance I get." Sirius didn't miss Remus's sharp intake of breath at that, and he could imagine his friend's heart jumping in his chest.

"I don't want you to think that sex is all I want from you. I don't want you to convince yourself that that's all you deserve from me because I know you, Moony. I know that that's what you're doing. But you need to know that this is more than that. This is more than sex. And I don't want to hurt you."

Remus was nodding. He was nodding along the last string of words that Sirius could push from his lips. "I don't care," Remus finally said when Sirius let him get a word in. "I don't care if I get hurt by my thoughts, Sirius. I don't care."

Sirius smiled softly and sadly because he had known that Remus would say this. He knew his friend too well. "Well, you should," he insisted. "You should care, Moony, because all I said is true. And you deserve not to hurt anymore. It's been too long. I need you not to hurt anymore."

It was as if all the pent-up exhaustion from the previous full moon, from the previous twelve years and beyond that came pouring out of Remus. He was nodding rather aggressively as tears spilt out of his eyes. He was crying again. Sirius didn't know why Remus had been crying so much these days, but he closed the remaining distance between them and wrappd his arms around him. Sirius let Remus sob into his shoulder, let him get rid of all the pain and burden that was weighing on him. Remus sniffled and seemed to calm down repeatedly only for him to say, "okay," and start crying all over again.

After a while, he seemed to be all cried out, and all the tears he had once held were soaking Sirius's jumper. With his arms still wrapped around Remus protectively, Sirius managed to maneuver the both of them into Remus's room. For the second time that day, he dropped Remus down, only this time on his bed. Sirius didn't bother pulling the curtains shut because the sun was almost down, so all he did was take off his jumper and kick off his trousers.

"What are you doing?" Remus mumbled, exhausted and already slowly drifting off to sleep.

"Shh," was all Sirius replied before lifting the blanket over Remus and crawling underneath it himself. He snuggled closer to his lover, wrapping his arms around him again, and Remus obliged, putting his head on Sirius's naked chest. He fell asleep like this, his soft and even breathing stroking Sirius's skin.

But Sirius was awake for a while after that. He still hadn't said all there was to say, but he decided to give both Remus and himself some time. Remus needed to understand just how deep Sirius's love for him was. Even if he might never fully believe it, Sirius had to try. But he needed time, too. Time to learn how to connect with his emotions enough to even express them. He needed time to allow himself to remember things again - all the things - before he could even talk about them.

It would take a while, he figured, to come to terms with everything. He had had twelve years of practice in shoving it all down and refusing to think about it even though in Azkaban, he'd had more than enough time to think. It had been easier to suppress his thoughts and memories, though, and it had kept the Dementors at bay, so Sirius had resorted to that option instead. He remembered James telling him in the holidays before their sixth year that Sirius had to talk about things in order to let them go. "You sound ridiculous, Prongs," Sirius had told him, shaking his head in disapproval, but James had insisted. "I'm really not," he had said. "You'll see."

He had been right, of course. Sirius had dug himself into a hole that had gotten too deep to climb out of anymore. Before, the hole had been shallow enough that he still had the opportunity to pull himself out of it whenever he felt it necessary in order not to worry his friends too much. But by the time sixth year had approched, Sirius had found himself at the bottom of the hole that was now so deep that he could barely even see the light anymore. He had been sitting in that darkness for weeks, and the hole had sunk deeper beneath his feet, threatening to swallow him up and let him die in there. His friends had tried to lift him out, but their arms had been too short to reach him. Only one person had been able to get Sirius out of the hole - he had brough a ladder.

In the dark of the night in Remus's bed, Sirius shoved the thought aside. He might be willing to learn how to reconnect with those old memories, but he felt that tonight was truly too soon to start. So instead, he would rather lie here for a little while longer and focus on nothing but the soft breathing of Remus by his side. He threaded his fingers into Remus's hair and wondered how long it would take for Remus to grow his hair out to the same length as Sirius. He let himself imagine how Remus would look with longer hair, soft brown curls falling over his shoulders. He would look good, Sirius deduced, and with the image in his head of a Remus with long hair, a leather jacket, and a cigarette stuck between the lips of a bright smile, he fell asleep.

He was asleep until he wakes up to the sound of crying. Is Remus crying again? Upon looking around, Sirius finds that it isn't Remus who's crying but James. That doesn't strike him as odd. He slips out of his four-poster bed and climbs into his best mate's. "Prongs?" he whispers, concerned. "What's wrong?"

James looks at him, big hazel eyes swimming with tears. He isn't wearing his glasses, which Sirius also doesn't find odd. James is sobbing, and that is all that Sirius cares about. He doesn't even notice the skin around his friend's eyes crinkling as if he's aging too fast. "I'm dead, Padfoot!" James exclaims, and his sobbing intensifies. "I'm dead. We're all dead!"

Only now does Sirius see. He sees the rotting skin, the faded colour in James's eyes, and the body with bright red hair on the floor. Only now does he notice the little boy in the crib, crying, screaming for his mummy and daddy. James reaches out and holds onto Sirius's wrist. His hand is icy cold. It must have been for a while.

"Protect him," James begs. "Please, Pads. You have to protect him."

Sirius didn't get the chance to reply before he woke up for the second time, only this time for real. He was breathing hard and fast, but no air seemed to be reaching his lungs, which resulted in him gasping like a fish out of water. Once he blinked and the tears flooded out of his eyes, he could see clearly that Remus was hovering over him, wearing his concerned look. In a moment, he would ask if Sirius was alright, and Sirius would either have to lie or open himself up to a conversation he wasn't ready to have. To prevent both, he sat up and turned his back to Remus for a moment, catching his breath and letting the other know that he didn't want to answer any questions.

When Sirius turned back to look at Remus again, he had to smile a little. The light of the waning moon allowed him to see that the crease between Remus's eyebrows had deepened, and he looked so adorably concerned that Sirius's heart ached a bit. "Don't look at me like that," he said, smiling, and pressed a finger between Remus's brows to smooth out the frown.

"You're not sleeping well," Remus pointed out a bit unnecessarily, seeing as Sirius had just woken up both of them in the middle of the night because of yet another nightmare. He could count the number of nights he hadn't woken up since coming here on one hand.

When Sirius only shrugged instead of giving an answer - mostly because he didn't know what kind of reply was expected of him - Remus asked, "Why aren't you sleeping well?"

It was another unnecessary question. After all, Remus knew very well why Sirius wasn't sleeping. He knew what kinds of things haunted him in his dreams. In the seconds of silence that followed, it dawned on Sirius that Remus wasn't asking him out of curiosity because he genuinely didn't know the answer. He was asking him for the same reason James had always asked him questions like these: to get him to talk about it. Sirius sighed. Tonight was too soon.

"I'm sorry for having woken you up," Sirius said instead of indulging in Remus's inquiry. "I better go back to my room and let you sleep."

He made to get up, ready to head back to his own room and stay awake for the rest of the night in fear of another similar nightmare creeping over him should he close his eyes. But Remus was faster. He grabbed Sirius's wrist, warm fingers wrapping around it and firmly pulling him back down. "Stay," Remus said, his voice earnest. "Stay, or I'll follow you to your room and lie down with you there."

Sirius frowned a little in surprise, and a soft chuckle slipped past his lips. "Moony, I probably won't go back to sleep, and I don't want to keep you awake. You need rest."

Remus glared at him, the look intensified by the light through the window behind him, throwing shadows over his face. "Then I'll stay up with you."

Sirius laughed again and shook his head. "Don't be ridiculous. You can't stay up for the entire night."

"Watch me," Remus challenged.

He knew what he was doing, Sirius had to give him that. Remus knew exactly that Sirius Black wasn't one to back down from a challenge, and this was one. Could he stay up longer than Remus Lupin? Probably. Would either of them give up until sunrise? Probably not. And if they fell asleep, then that was a win-win. Remus was smart. He was one of the smartest people Sirius had ever met, and he was fascinated and slightly aroused to face the fact that this had not changed at all. So many years later, Remus was still the evil mastermind. He had convinced Sirius with two words and the tone in his voice.

"Alright, then," Sirius said, nodding. "Then let's stay up together."

Truth be told, he was fully convinced that Remus would lose the challenge and fall asleep in a matter of an hour. Maybe ninety minutes, but certainly not more than that. The two of them lay back down, side by side, shoulder to shoulder. Sirius stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling. He had stared at the ceiling in his own room for so many nights already that he knew every crack and every bump in the paint by heart. This ceiling was utterly foreign to him, so he busied himself with taking in all the cracks and bumps in the paint here, too. He took notice of where the wallpaper was wrinkled at the walls and where the corners slightly peeled off. In his room, there were eleven cracks, twenty-seven bumps in the paint that he could spot from his bed in the darkness, and eight corners off wallpapers that were starting to come off the walls. Remus's room had slightly less of each, and only one corner of peeling wallpaper. Sirius supposed that Remus took better care of this room since he had been using it more.

"What are you thinking?" Remus asked after a while of peaceful silence.

Sirius had almost forgotten that he was still awake. Surely, Remus was under the impression that Sirius was thinking about something meaningful, so when he told him, "You have eight cracks in your ceiling, nineteen bumps in the paint, and one corner of the wallpaper is peeling off," Remus lifted his head off the pillow to throw Sirius an incredulous look.

"You've been counting the bumps in my paint?"

Sirius nodded, shrugged, and told him about the cracks and bumps and corners in his own room. With every number he listed, Remus's eyes widened. When Sirius was done, Remus put his head back on the pillow and shook it a little. "You need to sleep, Sirius," he said.

"I know," Sirius replied, shrugging again. "It's just hard."

He could feel Remus shifting next to him, but when he glanced over, he was pleased to find that Remus was looking up at the ceiling, so Sirius did so, too. "What do you dream about?" Remus asked quietly, his voice so feeble as if he wasn't quite sure whether this was a question he should be asking. "Dementors? Or them?"

Sirius found that it was easier to tell Remus when he didn't have to look at him and see the way his eyes reacted to Sirius's words. So he focused on a crack in the ceiling - one that he found looked a little like Harry's scar - and said, "It varies. Earlier, it was James. Sometimes, it's Lily, too. Or Peter, sometimes. Or..." He stopped himself.

"Sometimes, they don't look like they did back then, but instead, James and Lily are... different, and Peter is older." Sirius sighed. "Those aren't the worst dreams, though. The worst ones are the happy ones where we're all young and alive. And then I wake up, and... we're not."

As he was talking, Remus was nodding along, and when Sirius was done, his friend kept nodding. "I understand," he said, and that was all that was necessary. Sirius didn't expect him to be able to fix this. All he needed was for Remus to understand.

"I sometimes have dreams about Greyback," Remus offered in return. "Of course, I don't remember anything from when he attacked me, but... He never left me."

Sirius nodded. He had known this, Remus having been plagued by those nightmares ever since they had met, but he appreciated the return. It was silent again for a while, and Sirius's eyes were starting to itch as he kept them trained on the lighting-shaped crack.

Chapter Text

"Do you ever have nice dreams?" Remus muttered after what must have been more than five minutes. The sudden shyness in his voice made Sirius turn his head to look at him, and he frowned as the moonlight highlighted a blush on Remus's cheeks.

Oh? Sirius thought and then realised what this was about. Oh. "I do," he answered, fighting to keep the smile out of his voice. "Sometimes."

Remus was refusing to look at him even though Sirius was sure he could see him out of the corner of his eye. He was shy to ask, Sirius could tell, but he was too curious not to. "Can you tell me what they're about?"

A grin was spreading on Sirius's lips. Remus was asking him about those dreams? Well, this certainly was a topic that would keep them up for a while. Especially since they were lying in the same bed together and very conscious of where their bodies were touching. It had happened at Hogwarts many times, too - Sirius having those dreams about Remus and then sharing a bed with him - and it had been hard enough, but back then, they hadn't said "I love you." Back then, Sirius's crush had been (as far as he had known) one-sided, and it had been easier to pretend that his feelings didn't exist. Now, it wasn't quite so easy anymore.

Still, he was Sirius Black, and who was Sirius Black if not someone who relished in teasing Remus Lupin and putting him on edge? So, infusing his voice with more seduction that necessary to bring his point across, Sirius said, "About you."

The result he got was exactly the one he wanted: Remus's breath hitched, and his eyes widened. If Sirius were to put his head on the man's chest, he was sure that he would be hearing a rapid heartbeat. He enjoyed the reaction, but he decided to make Remus push a little further. If he wanted to know, he would have to find the courage to ask. Seconds ticked by, Sirius counting silently in his head, waiting to see whether Remus would carry on this line of questioning.

He wasn't disappointed when he heard his friend taking in a breath, preparing himself to speak. "What about me?" he asked. He was shy. He didn't know how to ask for the information he wanted. Sirius was terribly in love.

"What do you mean, what about you?" he asked, playing dumb and teasing him more.

Remus shifted a little, rubbing his shoulder against Sirius's in the process. "Well, what am I doing? I must be doing something, right?"

Sirius grinned. Almost there. "Yes," he breathed. "You're doing plenty of things."

Come on, Moony, he begged. Ask me.

A few more seconds of silence. And then, finally, Remus turned his head to the side, and his eyes met Sirius's, and his lips parted. And he asked, "Things like what?"

Instead of using words as an answer, Sirius moved in and let the kiss do all the talking. It was a slightly awkward position, both of them lying on their backs and having their heads turned to each other, so Sirius rolled to his side without breaking the kiss. The new position allowed him to wrap an arm around Remus's waist and pull him closer. He let his tongue flick across Remus's lips before he broke the kiss and pulled away.

"Well," he whispered, smirking down at the man, who was clearly already out of breath. "You're doing things like that. Kissing me."

Sirius enjoyed the way Remus's eyes widened almost imperceptibly, only noticeable to a man like Sirius, who had spent every hour of every day watching Remus and memorising his every expression. Even after all these years, he couldn't hide anything from Sirius because he was watching him so intently as if his life depended on every detail of Remus's being. Missing one would be dreadful. So Sirius took notice of the way Remus's chest was rising and falling in a faster rhythm as he was taking quicker breaths, and the way he kept licking his lips because they were getting dry from breathing through parted lips. Sirius could visibly watch Remus getting more and more nervous, but there was something unfamiliar about his expression as well.

"Just kissing?" Remus asked, his voice shockingly unsteady.

It made Sirius grin how shy his friend was being. He had rarely seen Remus so lost for words. But he enjoyed it; he couldn't lie. "No," he breathed, slightly shaking his head. "Not just kissing."

Another flare in Remus's eyes made Sirius understand what he was seeing mixed with nervousness and curiosity. Remus's face was mirroring Sirius's own arousal. They were both getting turned on by Sirius describing his dreams about Remus. He remembered with a flash that one time the two of them had wanked to the sounds of each other in a dark dorm room in two separate beds. If Sirius were to let it, this could shape up to be a similar experience and yet something else entirely.

"You kiss me," he repeated in a low voice, "everywhere. And your hands... they're everywhere. And you take my clothes off, slowly, making sure to brush your fingers against my skin in the process."

The moonlight was too dark for Sirius to see clearly, but if he could have, he would have seen Remus blushing a deep crimson. However, it was more than enough for him to hear the need in Remus's voice when he asked, "And you? What are you doing?" He swallowed audibly before adding, "In your dreams?"

"I kiss you," Sirius told him, still teasing even while giving him exactly what he wished for. "And I touch you. I kiss your neck. My hands are pulling down your pants."

While Sirius was talking, Remus was slowly and carefully lifting his head off the pillow more and more. He was pulling ragged breaths through his parted lips, and Sirius wanted nothing more than to give in. He wanted to kiss Remus so badly that it hurt. He loved him - had loved him ever since he had learned what the word meant - and wanted to show him. This was the only way Sirius knew how to show his love, but it wasn't enough anymore. Remus deserved more than what Sirius was able to give him. Remus was worth Sirius learning how to communicate his emotions properly. Remus was worth more than sloppy kisses and hard thrusts. He deserved sensual kisses and soft touches.

Sirius's grin had been spreading wider, and in the last second before Remus's lips could touch his, Sirius pulled his head back. "I know what you're doing, Moony," he scolded.

Remus let his head drop back to the pillow with a grunt. "You're no fun," he grumbled, but he sounded more embarrassed than angry.

Sirius was still grinning when he pressed a kiss to Remus's nose just because he could. "Don't lie, Remus," he said. "You had plenty of fun."

"And tactless," Remus added. "You're tactless, too."

That made Sirius laugh, and he pressed even more kisses to Remus's nose, forehead, and neck. The last one earned him a sharp breath, and Sirius filed the spot into a folder in his brain. Neck, he noted, slightly above the collarbone. He lay back down and let out a happy sigh. He had forgotten all about the nightmare by now and was ready to fall asleep in Remus's comforting presence. Sirius folded his arms behind his head, gave the lighting-shaped crack another glance as he thought of his godson and wished he would write soon, and then closed his eyes.

After a few moments of blissful silence, when Sirius was already halfway asleep, he heard Remus's amused voice. "So you are going back to sleep."

Without opening his eyes, Sirius pulled a sour face and shushed him. He reached out his arm and pulled Remus in again. The man laughed, the sound so unfamiliar now that it made Sirius open his eyes. The two of them looked at each other for a few seconds, and Sirius could feel his face heating up. He closed his eyes again and tugged at Remus once more until he could feel the other settling in against Sirius's form, his head on Sirius's chest again.

A tight feeling around Sirius's wrists makes him turn his head to the side to watch as Remus tightens the ribbon. He gives it a satisfying nod when it's clear that no matter how much Sirius pulls, he won't be able to free his hands from the bedpost. Sirius squirms under Remus's heated gaze, and he lets himself be looked at. Not that he has much of a choice. Remus bends down to kiss him, on the lips, down the neck, across his chest. He kisses and caresses the tattoos, nibbling a little at them. Sirius has to keep his lips pressed together in order not to make a sound.

"You're a good boy," Remus says, but in a way different tone than he usually does to Padfoot. "Aren't you, Sirius?"

Sirius nods. "Yes," he whimpers embarrassingly. "Yes, I am."

He shot up with a start, breathing heavily and sweating as if he'd just run around the block. Remus had been asleep, too, but he was awake again, rubbing his eyes in sleepy confusion. Sirius must have woken him up when he had sat up, resulting in Remus losing his pillow. Now, the man was looking at him with concern in his eyes, obviously under the impression that Sirius had had another nighmare. He reached out to calm Sirius down because he was still fighting for air, but Sirius slid away.

"No, don't touch me!" he gasped. Remus faltered, his hand sinking back down, and Sirius could have slapped himself. He was bad with words. "Sorry, Moony, I'm just a bit... on edge."

Remus frowned. "Bad dream?"

Swallowing, Sirius shook his head. "No," he confessed. "Good dream."

In an instant, Remus's eyebrows shot up. He looked surprised and shocked, and then his face settled into a flustered expression. "Oh," he said, and then he was smirking.

Little shit, Sirius thought and narrowed his eyes. He couldn't help thinking that Remus had hoped this would happen. Sirius didn't much appreciate being teased like this if he was incapable of teasing back, but he assumed that he would get the chance for revenge at some point. Once he caught his breath, he told Remus that he definitely wasn't planning on going back to sleep now.

"You lost anyway," Remus grinned.

"What? Outrageous!" Sirius argued. "I didn't lose anything. You said you'd stay up with me all night. This was never about me."

Remus laughed and waved off. "Alright, alright," he gave in. "What do you want to do now, then? Want to count more things in my room?"

Sirius narrowed his eyes again. Was Remus making fun of him? "No, Remus," he said. "I'll save that for next time. Let's have some tea."

"You want me to bring you tea in bed?" Remus asked, but the last two words faded as Sirius was already getting out of said bed.

"Not at all." He shrugged his jumper back on and opened the door. "We're drinking tea in the living room like civilised people."

He was in the hallway before Remus could catch up, and Sirius strode happily into the living room. With a yawn, Remus flicked his wand at the kettle and boiled the water. Sirius, meanwhile, was looking around. He had lived in this apartment for barely more than a week now, but he had never really taken the time to look around. Mostly, Sirius and Remus were sitting down together on the couch and reading or playing games. They didn't sit down to talk very often, but it was happening more and more now that they had revealed their biggest secrets and didn't have to be afraid of letting anything slip anymore.

Remus had told him plenty of times to make himself at home, but only now did Sirius truly take advantage of the permission to poke his nose into everything. One wall of the living room was completely hidden behind a large bookcase, holding all kinds of books - magical and muggle. As Sirius approached the bookcase for what must have been the tenth time, his new curious outlook and thirst to find something made him spot one of the little cubes that didn't look quite like the others. At first, he thought that these were magazines that Remus had collected here. But then he leaned closer, and his heart skipped a beat.

"You still have the old albums?" Sirius asked but didn't wait for Remus to reply before following up with another question. "Do you still listen to them?"

Remus sighed, and Sirius could hear him putting two cups down on the couch table. "No, Sirius. I didn't really feel like listening to the old songs we used to dance to."

Sirius nodded, but he wasn't really paying attention as he was crouching down and flicking through the vinyl albums. "Mhm," he said, stopping at David Bowie's Hunky Dory, "but this music, Remus. It's not just music."

There was a soft chuckle from Remus as he made his way over to where Sirius was still fawning over the collection of vinyl records. They were all there - all the old ones that Sirius remembered from Hogwarts - and they were in perfect condition still and alphabetically ordered. Even the ones that Remus had gifted Sirius were here (Diamond Dogs had a little note to Sirius scribbled onto the sleeve, dedicating Rebel Rebel to him). And the ones Sirius had bought for himself were here, too, as he had given them to Remus during their school time because his house hadn't been safe. He was touched when he realised that Remus must have gotten them from his place after he'd been locked up. He couldn't even imagine Remus going there, let alone having to go through his stuff. Sirius refused to think about it.

A few more Bowie albums than Sirius knew were there, and he noted all the ones he had missed the release of while he was in Azkaban and made it his mission to listen to them all. Bowie was followed by artists like Fleetwod Mac and Billy Joel, all the way down to Prince (who Remus commented was a class of his own), and Sirius's eyes grew ever wider as he flipped through them all.

"A Night At The Opera?" he asked and pulled out the album when he arrived at the Qs, his voice and smile like that of a child on Christmas morning. Remus was smiling now, too, and nodded.

"Merlin, that one used to play in the dorm all the time! Are there any new albums?" Sirius asked as he realised that after The Game, which was the last ablum release that he had been around for, there were only two more on the shelf. But he assumed that Remus might not have bought all albums that had been released since 1981. Maybe. "There must be new albums, right? It's been ages!"

Remus's face fell, which confused Sirius for a moment before he replied, "No, well, Padfoot, I have to tell you something."

Tell me...? Sirius thought as his heart sped up. Tell me what? What was it that was making Remus look so unbearably gloomy?

"Well, Queen," Remus started, "they're not making music anymore."

"Oh," Sirius said. Well, that wasn't so bad. He had been out of the loop for twelve years, so he hadn't really expected all of his favourite artists from his schoolyears to still be active. Bowie had been a pleasant surprise, and Queen's repertoire was expansive enough. So, despite the disappointment being there, it was moderate.

But somehow, Remus's face wasn't lighting up, which made Sirius frown. He tilted his head to the side, his eyes flickig down to the album in his hand for a second before looking back up at the other man. Sirius's heart was still beating unnaturally fast, and it confused him. "What is it, Moony?" he asked, although he dreaded the answer, whatever it could be. Anything that made Remus look this gutted and... guilty? Was there guilt in his eyes?

"Well, Padfoot, Freddie..." Remus said, and Sirius's heart dropped. "Freddie died four years ago."

Sirius dropped the hand that was still clinging to the album he had listened up and down, backwards and forwards. Freddie Mercury - a man so utterly alive - suddenly, just like that, wasn't. Sirius's eyes began to water. Freddie. James. There was no limit, was there? Death didn't stop at anyone. It didn't matter if you were an international superstar writing phenomenal songs and touching the hearts of millions of people all across the world, or if you were a hero in your own category saving lives and touching hearts just as well. It didn't matter if you were Sirius's hero. It didn’t even matter if it was your time to go or not. Death just took you whenever it pleased.

"Sirius?" Remus asked when he had been silent for too long.

Sirius blinked and focused his eyes back on his friend. "We should listen to this," he said, raising the album again. "We owe it to Freddie."

Remus nodded, not opposed to the idea, but he hesitantly added, "But don't turn it up too loud. I don't want to wake the neighbours."

Sirius gasped. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Remus," he scolded, "you can't possibly listen to Bohemian Rhapsody on low volume! That would be an insult to his memory!"

Rolling his eyes, Remus snatched the record out of Sirius's hand and wandered over to another shelf where he opened a drawer and pulled out a record player. Sirius watched him for a moment, wide and sparkling eyes following Remus's every movement as he set up the player, carefully slid the record out of the sleeve, and placed the record on the player. When Remus lifted the tone arm, Sirius noticed that his fingers were trembling, so he hurried across the room and wrapped his arms around the man, pressing himself against his back. Remus dropped the needle to the vinyl, and the familiar soft cracking filled the silence before Death On Two Legs started playing.

With his arms still wrapped around Remus's waist, Sirius started to swing and sway to the music, moving a reluctant Remus with him. They sped up, dancing in tune with the music, and even without seeing Remus's face, Sirius knew that he was smiling. The two of them danced together to the song, Sirius never letting go of the other man.

"Is this the first time you're listening to the album in fourteen years?" Sirius asked when the first song came to an end and the second one started up.

Remus nodded and shrugged. "Yes," he said over the sound of Lazing On A Sunday Afternoon. He had never liked the song much, which was why it didn't surprise Sirius when Remus took a step forward. Sirius was about to loosen his embrace when Remus put his hands on top of his, and they took a step forward together. Sirius smiled and buried his face in Remus's soft jumper that smelled like him. He assumed that his friend just didn't want him to see the emotions that must have shown on his face while listening to the album for the first time in ages. Remus picked up the needle and set it down again somewhere in the middle of the vinyl. To no one's surprise, Remus had picked The Prophet's Song to play next. It had always been his favourite.

"Well, for a while, I didn't listen to music at all," he said, shocking Sirius, who couldn't imagine a life without music. Not by his own free will. "But last June, I picked up the old albums for the first time."

Last june. So Remus had only dared to listen to the music of their youth again when he had found out the truth and known that Sirius was innocent and free. Knowing this overwhelmed Sirius, and he was suddenly glad that Remus still had his back turned to him. To show him that he was touched, however, Sirius gave his lover a squeeze and pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. Remus giggled and tilted his head back, and together, they swayed to Remus's favourite song of the album.

And then, when the song came to an end, Sirius held Remus's soulders and finally turned him around just as Freddie's lovely voice started the next song, and Sirius joined him in singing, "Love of my life, you've hurt me." With a wide grin, Sirius watched how Remus's face grew red. He had used to tell Sirius that he was actually kind of talented in singing, something James didn't like to hear until Remus told him that he, too, was good. But Sirius was good at singing softly to slow ballads. James had been fantastic at singing loud and forceful anthems. The two of them had complemented each other perfectly during Bohemian Rhapsody.

The two men danced to the song, nose to nose. Every now and then, Sirius could catch a whiff of the sweet scent that was Remus, and he couldn't help a smile. He was just so happy. Right there, in this living room, he was happy. On the run as a fugitive, hiding from the world, he was happy. While his friends were gone and his godson was about to face another dangerous trial, Sirius was happy. They were dancing, and then they were kissing, and they were holding onto each other because they were the only things that mattered. And Good Company played, and Remus chuckled against Sirius's lips as the latter rocked his hips in the rhythm of the song. Sirius twirled Remus around and caught him again, and then they were kissing again, and the music faded away.

This is the only thing that matters, Sirius throught. This was all that was important to him right now in this moment. He didn't care about anything else. Not right now. Not while he was holding Remus in his arms and tasting him on his tongue. They were intertwining more and more; each second they spent together fusing them to each other. Remus was being etched into Sirius's marrow minute by minute.

And then Freddie asked, "Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?" and Sirius had to agree with him because this seemed too good to be real. But he couldn't dwell on that for too long. This was his song. This was James's song. So he pulled away from the kiss, held Remus by the waist with outstretched arms, and sang to him, "I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy."

Remus threw his head back, laughing. His eyes were sparkling as he looked at Sirius, shaking his head in amusement, and Sirius could tell that the sparkle came from tears. He sang louder, more dramatically, moving across the living room with fake agony in his face as he sang the slow parts of the song. He ignored the real agony that was scratching at the door he had shut on it as he sang with Freddie, "Sometimes I wish I'd never been born at all." He had always had a knack for the dramatic, and he had always been brilliant at putting on a show. Remus was the main reason why. In the many years they had known each other, Remus had been sad and gloomy or angry so many times. Sirius couldn't stand it, and so he tried everything in order to cheer him up. And making a fool of himself seemed to be doing the trick every time.

This was why, when the faster part of the song came, Sirius grabbed Remus's hands and pulled him to the middle of the living room, which he was making their own personal dance floor. With every other "Galileo," he pretended to hand Remus a microphone, and the other sang into it. At the beginning, he was shy, but the longer the part went on, and the more Sirius let him sing, the more confident he became, until in the end, they were both shouting, "Just gotta get out, just gotta get right outta here!" The neighbours were forgotten even by Remus.

Out of breath from jumping around too much while singing, the two of them let Freddie take over the last few "nothing really matter"s, and kissed again. It was a hasty kiss, desperate, both men clasping at each other as the anthem faded away and the last track of the album played in the background. They had just spent six minutes in their dorm room. They had sung with James and Peter and Freddie, and no time had passed since they had been sixteen; young and happy and in love.

Hours later, the two of them were still lying on the couch together, Remus holding Sirius's skinny body to his own. "Sirius," he whispered, making Sirius aware that he had almost fallen asleep again. He didn't even know what time it was, but his eyes were stinging, and he was sure morning must be arriving soon.

"Hm?" Sirius asked. "I'm not sleeping," he said defensively, most definitely lying.

Remus chuckled, and Sirius could feel him shaking his head. "That's not what I meant," he said. The serious tone in his voice made Sirius frown, and he scooted up a little, so they were eye-to-eye, and he could see the set look in the beautiful green eyes. He prepared for all kinds of confessions, but the one that came still surprised him. "I want to have sex with you."

Sirius snorted and rolled his eyes even though he could clearly tell that Remus was being serious. It was just adorable, he found, that Remus thought he had to state it so clearly. Did he think Sirius was confused about that? Because he really wasn't. Sirius knew how much Remus wanted to sleep with him - after all, it was almost as much as Sirius wanted it himself. But for Remus to think that he hadn't made it clear enough? Adorable.

"I mean not right now," Remus clarified as he saw the amused smile. "I just mean... I really want to."

He wasn't making it any better, so Sirius decided to help him out. "I know, Remus. I really want to have sex with you, too."

No matter how many times it happened, Sirius was always very happy to see how easily he could make Remus blush. That was adorable, too. "O-okay," the man sttammered, his eyes darting across Sirius's face to pick up any clues, but all he could find was a lazy grin. "Okay. Good."

Letting out a laugh, Sirius asked, "Good?" and snuggled back against Remus. "Yes," he answered his own question with a nod. "Very good."

Chapter Text

Over the next few days, every time Remus entered the living room, he found Sirius sitting on the rug in front of the fireplace and listening to another vinyl album. He was determined to listen to all of them and catch up on the ones he had missed during his time in Azkaban and on the run. Remus suspected that this was the only thing that distracted Sirius from Harry's second task and the fact that they hadn't gotten a scrap of news from neither him nor Dumbledore. Remus took it as a testament to Sirius's tremendous willpower, seeing as he could have so easily distracted himself another way with Remus, who was more than willing, and - truth be told - getting a little desperate.

Remus, not having much else to do himself, spent most of his time sitting on the sofa and pretenting to read a book while, in reality, he was watching Sirius. He enjoyed having the other man in his company, and he couldn't possibly concentrate on a book when Sirius was right there, smiling and moving his body to the music. In moments like those, when the sound of Fleetwood Mac filled the living room and Sirius closed his eyes to enjoy the song, he looked so thoroughly happy, and Remus couldn't take his eyes off of him even if he wanted to.

Besides, even if he managed to tune out the music and his friend, there was nothing Remus could do about the unsettling images that invaded his mind at any given time when he allowed himself a moment of unguarded peace. Unsettling, yes, and unnecessarily sexual. These images, Remus knew, weren't real, but they had become less of an unreachable fantasy, and so they bothered him more often than before. Before Sirius had said he, too, wanted it. It was still unfathomable to Remus that Sirius Black - the man with more sexual experience by the age of sixteen than the rest of Gryffindor house, whom Remus had been in love with since he was fifteen - wanted to have sex with him.

Well, he wanted to, but he didn't. That, too, was unfathomable to Remus. He accepted Sirius's position, and he could see why Sirius saw it this way, but it was hard to understand it. Sirius didn't want to defile Remus. This reality Remus could not understand. He was already defiled. His blood, his very being, was unclean. Being what he was, being a werewolf, Remus found that niceties like sparing his feelings and protecting his virtue were... unnecessary. He didn't need protection.

But did it feel good to have it anyway? Yes, Remus admitted, ashamed. It was nice not to feel like he had to hate himself all the time. It was nice to get a break from his self-critique. It felt good to have it drilled into his head with as much patience as Sirius could muster that Remus was loved. Actually, utterly, and undeniably loved. It had been so long since he had felt loved. It had been ages in which he couldn't even manage to love himself. Not only because of what he was, but because of who he was as well. He was someone who had let his friends die and let his innocent friend take the fall for it. Worse yet, he was someone who hadn't believed in Sirius enough to muster up the courage and fight to get him out. Remus was not only a werewolf. He was a coward, too, and a bad friend. But it felt nice that Sirius didn't think the same.

As he pretended to read a book about a goblin's journey to the end of the world, Remus sighed and allowed his eyes to flicker back to Sirius. He was still cross-legged like the last time Remus had glanced at him, only now, Genesis was playing from the recod player, and Sirius was scribbling down the name of the new song he had discovered. Remus's eyes strayed from Sirius's smiling face down to the hand moving the quill over the parchment. Remus would think about that hand for the rest of the day, and he would dream about it, too. About that hand doing unspeakable things.

Remus cleared his throat, pushing his thoughts away and making Sirius look up at him. "You okay, Moony?" he asked with a frown. "You look weird."

Remus nodded, but he didn't reply because he couldn't come up with a good enough excuse. He wanted to get up, go to the kitchen, and do anything to distract himself. But when Remus shifted, he felt his trousers being entirely too tight, so he stayed put and hoped that Sirius hadn't seen anything.

He hadn't, but he was still rather confused about Remus's odd behaviour all of a sudden. "What's going on?" he asked, putting both quill and parchment aside to get up.

Before he could approach Remus, the latter lifted his hands and snapped, "No, stop."

As requested, Sirius stopped in his tracks, but that didn't do anything but make Remus's situation so much worse. He needed Sirius close to him. He didn't know for how much longer he could hold it in. For sixteen years, Remus had dreamed and fantasised about Sirius, and now he was here, in the flesh. They were here together, and they could be doing all the things Remus had dreamed of, and yet they weren't. For some stupid, inexplicable reason that Remus couldn't remember right now, they were both still fully clothed.

The crease between Sirius's brows had deepened, and he was tilting his head to the side as he regarded Remus. "Moony, what's going on with you?"

Remus let out an exhale that came bloody close to a condescending snort. "You set the boundary," he pointed out, "and I'm not going to cross it."

Realisation dawned on Sirius's face, and it was so adorable to see that Remus could have laughed. If it weren't for the growing pain in his trousers, he might have. "Are you..." Sirius raised his eyebrows, somewhere between surprised and smug, as he sat down on the other end of the sofa. "Are you daydreaming?" he asked.

"Has anyone ever told you how tactless you are?" Remus asked, knowing the answer very well.

Sirius snorted. "As a matter of fact, yes. I've been told." He slid closer, and it was as if the wolf in Remus was waking up, smelling him, feeling his heat, hearing his heartbeat. "That's not the point here, though. Remus, what are you -"

The word got stuck in Sirius's throat as he heard what Remus did: an owl knocking at the window. They both jumped up at the same time, and Sirius was the first to reach the window. He let the owl inside and took the letter. The bird allowed itself a little rest, drinking from the bowl of water Remus had prepared.

"It's from Dumbledore," Sirius said when he recognised the handwriting even before opening the letter.

That information made Remus tense. A letter from Dumbledore could mean good news. Or bad. "Open it," Remus breathed and moved around the sofa to sit down next to Sirius again, forgetting all about the safety distance he had had to keep just moments before. They were sitting shoulder to shoulder, knee touching knee, and Remus peeked at the letter Sirius was holding, which was addressed to both of them.

Two words were all it said: He's okay.

The two men looked at each other, and irritation bubbled up inside of Remus at the same time as Sirius let his out. "He's okay? That's all he has to say? He's okay?"

"Sirius, calm -"

"Do not tell me to calm down, Remus!" Sirius roared, getting to his feet.

This wasn't good. They hadn't even gotten the chance to celebrate Harry's victory. But Remus couldn't argue with Sirius, not when he was right - Dumbledore should have given them a bit more detail. After all, had they not been sitting here, worrying themselves sick for the boy? Did they not deserve to know what was going on with him? The Daily Prophet arrived not long after. It had been releasing one rubbish article after another, but all that could be trusted from this one was the fact that Harry had successfully finished the second task. Sirius threw a fit, saying all kinds of things about Dumbledore and keeping them in the dark and that they deserved better. Remus couldn't disagree.

A few more days passed and bought March and rain. The days seemed to be darker than before, and Remus often had to turn on a lamp in the middle of the day. Sirius had stopped shaving altogether - which Remus didn't necessarily mind, though he had had to get used to the stubble when they kissed - and he had reached the Ls of the vinyl collection and was listening to Led Zeppelin on full volume on repeat until finally, one evening, he snapped. During yet another round of When The Levee Breaks, just before Remus wanted to rip his own head off, Sirius jumped to his feet and left the room.

"Sirius? Where are you going?" Remus called after him. He slammed the book in his lap shut and got up to turn off the music. Silence. He had missed the silence. For days, he had let Sirius listen to the same album over and over again even though the guitar by now sounded to Remus like a chainsaw was trying to force his skull open. But he had let him. Not anymore, though.

Sirius came back to the living room with a new piece of parchment in his hand, and he snatched the quill from the coffee table.

"Padfoot, what are you doing?" Remus sighed as he watched his friend furiously write something down.

"Writing a letter," was the reply.

"A letter to whom? Dumbledore?" Remus asked. He had suspected Sirius to snap sooner and write a hateful letter to the headmaster that Remus would have to wrestle out of his hands before he got to send it.

However, Sirius shook his head. "Harry."

That single word made Remus perk up. Worried, he walked over to where Sirius was crouched down and found exactly what he had expected written on the parchment. "Sirius, you can't go to Hogsmeade!" he protested.

"Yeah?" There were flames dancing in the black eyes as Sirius looked up at Remus. "And why is that?"

"You know bloody well why!" Remus snapped. "If they catch you -"

"Moony, it's Harry," Sirius said, effectively shutting Remus up. "I have to."

He was right, and Remus knew it, whether he liked it or not. Harry needed his godfather right now. Sirius had managed to sneak in and out as Padfoot before, so maybe he could manage it one more time. Maybe he could pull it off. But what if he couldn't? Was Remus just supposed to let him walk right into his damnation? Was he supposed to stand idly by again? Selfishly, he wanted Sirius to stay. Here. With him. But he couldn't ask that of him, so he wouldn't. Besides, he wanted to know how Harry was doing, too.

So, finally, Remus nodded. "Okay," he breathed. "Okay, go. But promise me -"

"I promise you I'll be safe," Sirius finished with a smile, knowing that Remus had wanted to repeat his plea from a few weeks before when Sirius had left the flat then, too. But that time had been with Remus, and they had only gone to the park. Now, he wanted to go on his own all the way to Hogsmeade, which was filled with wizards.

Remus tried to smile, too. "You're not going now, though, are you?" he asked, glancing out of the window at the already dark evening sky. "You said Saturday."

Sirius nodded. "I did, but... Moony, I have to make sure he's okay."

"You're going back to that cave?" Remus couldn't explain the pain he was feeling at the thought of Sirius willingly leaving him. Again. To live inside a cave. Again. Could Sirius not wait until Saturday morning? Did he really have to leave right now? Remus didn't know what to do with himself for two whole days. He would go mad with worry.

His stomach dropped when Sirius moved his head to nod. "Just for a few days," he said in a low voice, trying to calm Remus's nerves.

Remus tried to take a breath, failed, and tried again. "Okay," he said again. "Just a few days. And then you'll come right back."

Sirius smiled again. "I promise."

Merlin. Remus had known that they would have to separate at some point, but he hadn't expected it to happen this soon. He had deluded himself into believing that the world would wait for them. That they would have more time in their bubble. He had been wrong. The world was moving on whether he wanted to stand still with Sirius or not. Unfortunately, the world didn't give a damn about what he wanted. That was the truth, and Remus should better accept the truth.

The two of them looked at each other, and there were so many words in that one look. But they managed to say only three. "I love you," Remus whispered, not trusting his voice enough to speak up.

Sirius was smiling when he said, "I love you."

He looked ready to go, and yet he wasn't moving. Remus frowned. Sirius wasn't leaving. And then Sirius wrapped his arms around Remus and pulled him against his body. Only now did Remus notice how much weight Sirius had gained back since he had shown up on Remus's doorstep. He was now almost a whole man again, not just skin and bones. His shoulders were less bony, and his chest was feeling softer when Remus hugged himself against him. Sirius put a hand in the back of Remus's neck and kissed him. Long. Like a promise. A promise that he would come back, that he wouldn't get himself caught, and that when he returned, they would have some fun together.

With his head still spinning from the overwhelming kiss, Remus watched as Sirius Disapparated. He took a deep breath and looked around the suddenly empty living room. Traces of Sirius's presence were all that was left now. If it weren't for the second cup of tea, the note with all of Sirius's songs, and the quill with which he had written both that and the letter to Harry, one wouldn't have known that Sirius Black had ever stayed here.

Remus sighed and wandered into the hallway. He opened the door to his room and sighed again. Here, there were a few more pieces of evidence to Sirius's presence: the maroon jumper he had worn on his first day here and given back to Remus because it didn't smell like him anymore, or the socks he had thrown at Remus from the hallway to bother him. Remus closed the door and headed farther down to the next door.

Had Sirius possessed anything other than the dirty clothes he had come in, this room would be bursting at the seams with him. As it was, the room was empty except for Remus's own things. Sirius hadn't brought anything that could be stored here. All of the things he had once owned were either long gone because of a Ministry-orchestrated raid or were stored on the vinyl shelf in Remus's living room. The albums were the only things Remus had managed to save from the cruel hands of the Ministry - they would have had to pry them out of his dead hands.

Still, it was here that Remus came to lie down. The sheets, despite not being Sirius's, smelled like him. He had been gone for no more than five minutes, and Remus already longed for the smell of him. He could understand now why Sirius had wanted to exchange the jumper for another one. Remus was being too overly dramatic, it seemed, but he couldn't help himself. He hoped Harry was okay and that Sirius would be okay, too. If he would get caught, Remus would fight. This time, he would fight

Chapter Text

When Remus woke up, Friday was halfway over already. A glance at the clock told him that he had slept for over twelve hours, and he certainly felt like it, too. His limbs felt too heavy still when he dragged himself out of bed and forced himself to go through the motions of his day: brushing his teeth, washing his face, making some coffee. He almost took out two cups before his sleep-befuddled brain caught up and remembered that he wouldn't need a second cup today. Neither would he tomorrow.

With a sigh, Remus wondered how it had come to this. He had been perfectly fine on his own before, so why not now? Because now he knew that Sirius was out there, alive and well and innocent. Since the two of them had been separated during the full moon in June, Remus hadn't been fine on his own, either. This was no different. Well, it was a little different. Now, Remus knew what he was missing. Honestly, he had had to miss Sirius enough over the past years! Wasn't it enough already?

He should really stop. Remus was spiralling, and he knew it. It wasn't like Sirius was waltzing right into the Ministy of Magic, demanding to speak to the Minister. He was just going to Hogsmeade, disguised as a dog that no one knew existed, and speaking to his godson and friends. There was nothing to worry about. Remus had to stop worrying.

In a desperate attempt to do so, he set his cup of coffee down and headed to his room, where he got changed quickly without even looking into the mirror. He had to leave the flat and get some air. Remus grabbed all the essentials - wallet, keys, and umbrella - and headed right out the front door without looking back. He hurried down the seemingly endless amount of stairs until, finally, he could breathe fresh air. As the door swung shut behind him, Remus had to take a moment. He hadn't realised how much he had missed fresh air. The only times he had left the flat since their trip to the park was to go to the store down the street, but he hadn't gone outside just for the sake of being outside.

Now that he was down here in the rain, breathing the cold early March air, Remus felt much better. It might have been the animal in him that had craved freedom from that stuffy little flat. He looked left and right, debating which way to go. What did he want to do? He didn't have a plan, so Remus decided to go left - in the other direction that he had with Sirius back then.

As he was walking down the street, Remus quickly had to realise that this wasn't really the distraction he had hoped it would be. Without any music or someone to talk to, his head had all the freedom to fill the silence with thoughts; thoughts Remus had wanted to escape in the first place. He wondered about Sirius in that cave and wondered how he had slept last night. He wondered how Sirius slept every night. Since the full moon two weeks ago, they had shared the bed a few more times, and Remus had tried every time to stay awake long enough to make sure Sirius was asleep. He had failed to do so every time and fallen asleep until Sirius had woken him up with a nightmare.

Remus wondered if Sirius would ever be ready to talk to him about his nightmares and about the things that were clearly haunting him during the daytime, too. He had tried to carefully ask a few times, but Sirius had shut down completely each time and either changed the subject or snapped at Remus. He didn't want to pressure his friend into anything, really. Neither into talking nor into sex. But it wasn't healthy for Sirius to bottle everything up. Remus was only here to help. He had things weighing on his heart, too, and he didn't talk about them either, but that was only because the things he was worried about were some of the same things Sirius was worried about, and Sirius didn't want to talk.

Frustrated with his thoughts, with Sirius, and with the fact that this walk was way less relaxing than he had expected, Remus ran his hand through his hair and took a right turn.

Maybe it was pure curiosity that made him so overly keen to know what Sirius was dreaming about. Maybe he just wanted to understand his friend better, and the best way to do that was through his subconscious. All the nightmares that plagued Sirius were the perfect gateway to his psyche, and they might even help Sirius talk about his issues during the day, too. To know what he was dreaming about meant to understand him on a deeper level. Maybe this was exactly what Sirius was trying to avoid. Maybe he thought giving Remus this access to his psyche was wrong or even dangerous. Did he not trust Remus?

Or was he ashamed? Did Sirius think that having nightmares and trauma was something to be ashamed of? Something that made you weak? Thinking back to their youth and the household in which Sirius had grown up, Remus saw this as a very plausible possibility. The Black family had always been notoriously horrible with feelings and concerns. Shove it down, lock it away. That had been the key to the education of their children. It was not the only reason, but it definitely counted as one of the biggest why it had taken Sirius so long to recover in sixth year. He had always repelled his family's values and education, but some things were bound to have stuck with him. Was this one?

Was Sirius still thinking about them? Back then, when the war had started, Sirius had received the news about the death of his brother. Two years later, he had received the news about his best friend. Remus couldn't help but think that James and Lily's end must have reminded Sirius of his brother's end, too. Had he thought about him behind bars in Azkaban? Had he laughed hysterically about the fact that he was now there, whereas his brother had never even made it that far? How long had Sirius thought about his brother? Had he ever stopped?

As Remus rounded another corner, he realised how far he had already walked without even noticing. He spotted a sign not far away, pointing him in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron. In the rush to get out of the flat, Remus hadn't thought to bring his watch, and the ever-grey sky didn't really give him any indication as to what time it was, either. So when he reached the streetsign, he stopped and considered. The way to the Leaky Cauldron would lead him to the Muggle shopping district, too, but did Remus really want to go shopping right now? Did he have time to do so before it would be evening and he would have to walk back home in the darkness? Unless he planned his route perfectly so he would pass all the Muggle stores he wanted to visit until he ended up on Diagon Alley, from where he could Apparate home.

Yes, that sounded like a plan. Remus followed the sign and headed farther down yet another road, deeper into London. He walked for a while, and the rain eventually stopped, but Remus was starting to freeze nonetheless. By the time he entered the first Muggle store - a second-hand store not far from the Leaky Cauldron - he was shivering. The lady looked up at him and gave him a smile. She looked a bit bored and glad that she had a customer because Remus was the only person in the store, which wasn't really surprising considering the weather outside. Remus suspected he would be walking into quite a few empty stores today. He gave the lady a smile back.

"Let me know if you need help with anything," she told him.

Remus nodded thankfully and took a moment to regard her now that she was standing upright. Her light brown hair was in a bun, making long silver earrings visible. She was wearing a ton of rings and a skintight Ramones shirt. At that, Remus smiled.

"Actually," he said, "could you point me to the band shirts?"

That was the sole reason why he had come here, and he was happy that in the first store, he had struck gold. Many times, Remus had walked past the window and seen the display of band shirts, and Remus had always thought that Sirius would love this store. Because Sirius was still wearing Remus's clothes, Remus had offered to go out and buy something for him that would be his own, but Sirius had argued.

"And you'll just pick for me?" he had asked. "No offence, Moony, but your jumpers aren't really my style. They look good on you, don't get me wrong, but on me?"

Remus had rolled his eyes. "You're wearing one right now!" he had pointed out, slightly offended. "And I do know which musicians you like. Don't forget that I bought you your first merch, too."

That was true. Sirius's first band T-shirt had been a Christmas present from Remus; a shirt from Queen's album Sheer Heart Attack. The album had been released in their fourth year, and the Muggle stores of London had burst with merchandise.

"But I'll need robes, too," Sirius had argued.

"Then I'll swing by Madam Malkin's."

"What, without my measurements?"

Remus had sighed and said, "Sirius, you're annoying me." But truthfully, he had been a little relieved, too. He hadn't really wanted to leave Sirius alone in the flat, and especially not the closer Harry's second trial had gotten. Now, however, Sirius was out, and Remus was sick of sitting at home. He would only be worrying himself to death. Or do something incredibly stupid like following Sirius to Hogsmeade. That wasn't only stupid; it was downright idiotic and a little rude, too. Did Remus think Sirius couldn't take care of himself or needed saving? Certainly not. That didn't mean that he wouldn't rest easier knowing Sirius was somewhere far away from danger.

With a kind smile, Remus followed the lady through the store to where she stopped by a surprisingly well-stocked rack of band merchandise. After only a few minutes of looking around, Remus had several longsleeved shirts and T-shirts thrown over his arm. Flicking through the clothing here felt like looking through a time capsule. So many of these shirts were familiar to him, having been worn at Hogwarts twenty years ago by any witch or wizard interested in Muggle music.

Remus even found a couple of shirts that Sirius himself had once possessed, but only one of them came in the right size, so Remus had to settle for the T-shirt with the slightly faded Aladdin Sane print. Looking at it pulled Remus into a memory he had thought to have forgotten, but here it was, waiting for him behind the lids of his eyes. It was clear as day, as if untouched by the past fourteen years:

Sirius's flat in the dark of the night with nothing but Remus's wandlight illuminating the peaceful furniture waiting for its owner to return. The cup on the couch table that had once held tea but was now empty, left behind, forgotten. Almost like Remus himself. The shoes by the door; tattered and worn trainers that James had begged Sirius to get rid of but never managed to get the job done even by buying him new ones. The bed - crumpled sheets and mushed pillows - as if Sirius was coming back to crawl up in it any minute. And Remus, standing in the bedroom, transfixed by too many emotions to name. Fear. Anger. Worry. Love. All of those emotions too big to fit into his little body.

But Remus had come to the flat with a purpose. He had no time to fall apart. Not there. Not then. He had a job to do. Things to find. Things that were so undeniably Sirius that he couldn't let them go, couldn't let the Ministry take those parts of him, too. So Remus ignored the bed, the sheets, the Aladdin Sane shirt on the floor, and instead looked for the albums. He found them in a cupboard, grabbed them without a second thought, and Disapparated. Back in the flat he had once lived in before vacating it in favour of his month-long trip, Remus had fallen to his knees, letting the six vinyl albums slide out of his hands and to the floor. He hadn't looked at them again until Sirius had pulled them out about a week ago.

As if those memories were physically painful, Remus pinched his eyes closed and pressed his palm against his throbbing temple. He had to get out of this store and get some air. And while he was at it, he might as well eat something. So Remus took the clothes with him, paid for them, and hurried out into the softly drizzling rain. He closed his eyes for a moment and tilted his face toward the sky so that after a few seconds, his face was covered by a light coat of rain.

Remus spent the rest of the day distracting himself by going from store to store. He found new shirts of newer albums, found trousers and joggers and pyjamas. He bought all of it in Sirius's size and/or one up in case he happened to grow out of them again by gaining his weight back. Since he was already carrying three bags by the time he reached the Leaky Cauldron for a warm Butterbeer, Remus contemplated whether he should really visit Diagon Alley today as well. After all, he would have all of tomorrow to himself, too.

For a while, Remus just sat in the pub and sipped at his hot drink. He watched the witches and wizards come and go, and he tried not to remember the memories he had made here. The last of those were hardly good ones, which was why Tom the landlord had given him a bit of a frown when Remus had entered. The last time he had been in here many years ago, he had been kicked out after causing a drunken scene.

It had been November second, 1981. People around him had been celebrating. The downfall of the Dark wizard, of course, had put people in a splendid mood. Remus, however, had been sitting at the bar, trying to drown his sorrows and grief in firewhisky. After admittedly too many glasses of the liquor, he hadn't been able to stand the happiness around him anymore. Two burly wizards had to drag him outside, where he had stayed on the ground for a while, crying.

Today, however, Remus was in a much better mood, and Tom came to pour him another glass of Butterbeer. "Looking well, Lupin," he said.

Remus tried himself at a smile. "Thank you, Tom. Likewise."

He couldn't help feeling a bit self-conscious at the glances the old man gave him. Surely, he must have heard about Remus's condition. Snape would have made sure of that. But if Tom knew, he didn't show it, and he didn't treat Remus any different than the other guests in his pub. This relaxed Remus a little, and he tried to ignore the others looking at him as well. He could handle sideways glances; he had all his life.

Finishing up his second glass, Remus got up to leave. He would go straight back home and visit Diagon Alley the next day. A wise decision, he found, when he exited the pub and stepped into darkness. Well, London was never truly dark, but he knew that his street would be way less lit than this busy part of the city. Luckily, Remus had very good eyes, especially in the dark. He had never been afraid of it; not like Sirius had. Remus wondered if Sirius was afraid right now, lying in his cave in the darkness. A fire would probably be too risky.

Back at home, Remus put the bags down, sighed exhausted, and headed to the kitchen to make himself something for dinner. Whipping his wand and cooking something up, Remus went through the things he wanted to do tomorrow: He had to wash Sirius's new clothes and put them in his room, then he would go out to Diagon Alley and pick up some more stuff. He could stop by Flourish and Blotts if he felt like buying new books. With Sirius here and both of them having nothing to do, Remus found that they were working their way through Remus's books pretty quickly. They either had to find something else to do besides reading and listening to albums, or Remus would have to buy new books before they ran out.

So, the next morning, he was more prepared to leave the flat. He remembered to bring a watch this time, and he took a magically extendable bag with him so he wouldn't have to get one in every store. The weater was a bit nicer today - that is to say it was at least not raining - but Remus put his umbrella in the bag anyway. He was also in a better mood than yesterday because he had double-checked The Daily Prophet this morning and had found no news regarding the capture of Sirius Black.

Remus gave Tom a friendly nod as he passed through the pub to get to Diagon Alley. Maybe he would stop by again later. The street was rather crowded today, which Remus didn't mind at all. Sirius had safely made it through two nights, and he was coming back this evening with news about Harry, so Remus doubted anything could bother him today. Still, he tried to dampen his optimism a little. There was still a whole day ahead of him, and a lot could happen in that day.

He stopped by Madam Malkin's first, and the woman immediately threw up her hands and hurried toward him, leaving the wizard she had just been hemming the sleeves for completely disregarded. "Remus, Remus!" she sighed happily. "It's been a while."

Remus couldn't help but smile as he nodded and stepped farther into the shop. "Too long," he agreed. He had bought all of his robes second-hand as they were cheaper, but he desperately wanted to get Sirius new ones.

The man in the back cleared his throat and said rather annoyed, "Excuse me. You were in the middle of something here." As if to prove his point, he waved his arm with the unfinished sleeve.

Madam Malkin pursed her lips. "Just a moment, dear. I haven't seen this boy in too long."

Remus smiled apologetically. Boy, she said, as if he was still fifteen years old, coming to buy new Gryffindor robes after having far outgrown his last ones since the growth spurt during the summer.

"When I got your letter, I couldn't believe my eyes." The woman was beaming and then took a step back to look Remus up and down. She frowned. "Just as I thought," she said, then hurried across the shop while still talking to Remus. "I knew that the measurements you gave me wouldn't fit you. Unless you shrunk since the last time I saw you."

She came back with two brand-new robes. Two weeks ago when they had had the conversation for the first time, Remus had written Madam Malkin a letter with Sirius's measurements so that the man wouldn't get the stupid idea of going out to buy some robes himself. He had given her all the specifications she needed, such as which colour Sirius wanted. Looking at them now, Remus was more than happy to find that the robes looked exactly as he had hoped. Madam Malkin was truly a master in her craft.

"Oh no, they're not for me," Remus said quickly before she would make him try them on. "They're for a friend of mine."

Madam Malkin nodded in a yes, of course kind of way and handed Remus the robes. He put them in his bag, paid for them, and let the woman go back to her other customer. That poor man. As planned, Remus headed to Flourish and Blotts, and the bag was filled with books. He stopped by the window of Broomstix and dreamed of buying one for Sirius. Remus steered clear of the joke shop because he knew the memories that would come with pranks and jokes and laughs.

When he got back to his flat after another hot drink in the Leaky Cauldron, he was exhausted and his feet and shoulders were aching. Remus kicked his shoes off, giving his feet air, and wanted nothing more than to take a shower and then sit down and wait for Sirius. It didn't come to that, though, because when Remus dragged himself and his bag into the living room, he was startled out of his skin. Sirius was already back, and he was sitting on the sofa with a wide grin.

"Holy -" Remus jumped, dropped his bag, and crossed the room in a few big steps.

Sirius laughed as he got to his feet and wrapped his arms around Remus, who only just now realised how cold he had been. Sirius's hair was fluffy and his skin smelled clean, which led Remus to realise that Sirius must have been back for a while if he had had enough time for a shower. Remus kissed his lover, kissed him long and deep and desperately, until Sirius chuckled and pulled Remus away, holding him by the shoulders.

"Whoa, Moony, calm down," he laughed. "Let a man breathe."

Remus rolled his eyes and pushed Sirius back down onto the sofa, climbing on top of him. "You can breathe some other time. For now, just kiss me."

Chapter Text

"Mmh. Don't move!"

Remus chuckled at the whiny tone in Sirius's voice. "My arm is falling asleep!" he complained but stopped moving nonetheless. So his arm was falling asleep, big deal. That was a small price to pay for having Sirius in his arms, pressed so tightly against Remus that not even a sheet of parchment could fit between them. They had been lying like this on the sofa for a while now; maybe twenty minutes or more. Remus found that time seemed to be moving rather peculiarly when he was this close to Sirius. It was almost like time didn't want to make him aware of the fact that it was passing. Steadily. Constantly.

"Tell me again what he said," Remus whispered against Sirius's soft black curls.

"How many more times do I have to tell you?" Sirius asked in return.

Remus smiled. "Just one more time," he promised.

Sirius sighed and shifted his position so he could look Remus in the eye. The movement put even more pressure on Remus's already tingling arm, but he didn't mind. Sirius exhaled a smile, understanding completely why Remus had this need to know. "He said that no one has tried to attack him and that he missed us very much."

"And he promised to stay safe?"

Sirius nodded, brushing his hair against Remus's cheek. "He promised to stay safe."

Immediately after Remus had arrived home, Sirius had told him all about the conversation he had had with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They were okay, he had said, and they were taking care of each other. Remus was relived now, though he realised that there was still the ever-present knot of tension between his shoulders that he couldn't loosen. Harry had one more trial to go through, and this one could very well be the worst one. Who knew what sort of twisted games they had come up with for the finale of the Triwizard Tournament?

Sirius sighed and scooted even closer, but since this was impossible, all he did was push both of them against the cushions. "And where have you been earlier?" he asked Remus, who had completely forgotten that there had been a time when Sirius hadn't been right here in his arms.

But now that he mentioned it... Remus sat up so abruptly that Sirius grunted as he was forced to do the same. Remus very clumsily untangled himself from the other man and got to his feet. "Moony, slow down," Sirius whined, but Remus didn't listen. He staggered to the bag he had dropped halfway across the living room and picked it up with a mischievous grin. Sirius's eyes were wide and questioning, and he asked, "What the bloody hell is in that bag?"

Rather dramatically, Remus told Sirius that he had done a little shopping while he was gone. Sirius's eyebrows raised more and more, and Remus's triumphant grin widened. He pulled out the robes he had picked up fresh from Madam Malkin's, and Sirius's jaw dropped. He got up and slowly approached Remus, who was already jittery with excitement.

"I picked them up this morning," he told Sirius in a shy voice, feeling a little self-conscious again just like he had when he had told Sirius about why he had chosen this flat. "Do you like them?"

Sirius's eyes snapped away from the robes and up to Remus's face. A beat later, his lips stretched into a wide smile that managed to brighten the dreary March evening. "I love them."

Remus's heart skipped a beat at the breathy tone of Sirius's voice. Oh, he loved Sirius, too. "If you love those," Remus said sheepishly, "then you'll lose your mind over the things in your wardrobe."

With satisfaction, Remus watched Sirius's eyes widen in both confusion and excitement. "My wardrobe," he repeated, somehow sounding as if he didn't quite believe what he was hearing.

Remus laughed and nodded, but still Sirius didn't move. Remus didn't know what he was waiting for, but he could see the overwhelmed look in the dark eyes of his friend, so he decided to give him a moment to adjust. It had been a long time since Sirius had received kind gestures and gifts, and Remus couldn't possibly imagine how he was feeling right now.

After too many seconds of silence, Remus found himself getting worried. "Sirius?" he asked, and tear-filled eyes found his. "Padfoot, are you okay?"

Sirius didn't move a muscle even when he stated, disbelieving, "You bought me something." His voice was low and shaky, and it ripped Remus apart, reached into his open chest, and crushed his already bleeding heart.

Remus's eyes softened from confusion to understanding. Sirius thought he didn't deserve this. Sirius thought he wasn't worth this. Whatever it was that Remus had bought him, Sirius already thought it was too much. Sirius thought he was a bad person. For what? Remus wondered. For not being able to save the best friend he had ever had? For not stopping Peter both last year and fourteen years ago? For simply being human? Because none of these things were Sirius's fault. He wasn't to blame for anything that had gone wrong in their lives. If anything, Sirius had to be protected from any more harm. He had been through so much already, and Remus found that enough was enough.

Carefully as to not startle him, Remus reached out to give Sirius a little shove, nudging him in the direction of their rooms. Sirius looked at him, his eyes still so wide and so surprised and so, so beautiful. Only when Remus offered him an encouraging smile did Sirius head to the hallway. The door to his room was slightly ajar like he had left it, and Sirius's steps slowed the closer he got to it. He peeked inside before Remus chuckled and pushed the door open.

"Go on in." Remus rolled his eyes and shoved Sirius forward a little more until he gave in and stumbled into the room. The wardrobe was closed, so Sirius opened it with two shaking hands, but Remus wasn't looking at his hands. Remus was looking at his face. He couldn't take his eyes off of the small curve of Sirius's rosy lips, slightly cracked from the cold he had stayed in for the past two days, and the glimmer in his eye when he finally dared to reach for his new clothes. The first thing his hands found was the Aladdin Sane T-shirt, and a tear spilt out of Sirius's eye. He quickly wiped it off, turning his body away from Remus, who feigned ignorance.

Sirius kept the shirt clutched to his chest even as he pulled out the rest of the things Remus had bought - from band merchandise to new trousers in leather and jeans. His smile grew wider with every item of clothing he could get his hands on, and Remus could practically watch him shedding yet another layer to reveal the person he had once been. Sirius was tearing down his walls, brick by brick, and though it was hard and took more time this way, he was safe from being crushed by all the rubble collapsing all at once.

Before Remus could say anything like he felt he should because they had been silent for too long save for Sirius's excited gasps whenever he found a new good shirt, Sirius dropped everything in his hands and pulled out the last item that had survived this long in the wardrobe. It was a new leather jacket almost like the one James and Peter had gifted him one Christmas. Sirius didn't even have to tell Remus what he thought of the jacket because his face said it all.

"Moony!" he gasped, his big eyes sweeping to Remus, who found it impossible not to blush when Sirius looked at him like this and said his name like that. "You didn't have to!"

That made Remus laugh, although he really wanted to shake his head and tell Sirius that he was being impossible. "I know I didn't," Remus said instead and shrugged. "That's what makes it fun."

For just a second, Remus glimpsed the smirk on Sirius's lips before they were on his, warm and soft and wonderful. Vaguely, Remus could hear the jacket landing on top of the other clothes on the floor, but he was more concerned with Sirius's hands, which were now free and making excellent use of themselves on Remus's waist. This kiss was different from any of the others they had shared before, and Remus could immediately tell why: Sirius was touching him. Usually, he kept his hands firmly on some part of Remus's body without moving them around too much. Mostly, it was his waist or his shoulders. Today, though, Sirius's hands seemed unsatisfied with just holding Remus, and they quickly moved on from his waist. They frantically roamed up and down his back as if they couldn't get enough of Remus's body until they settled down on his butt.

A sharp intake of breath from Remus made Sirius pull back a little, but just so much that though their lips were separated, the rest of them stayed connected. "I love you, Remus," he whispered. The fact that he had used his actual name made Remus appreciate the words so much more. This way, they felt like more than a drunken confession between two friends after a party in the Gryffindor Tower. They felt like more than something said between two friends at all. These words - these four exact words - were said between two lovers. And they made Remus choke up.

Before he could tell Sirius that he loved him too, the other man said, "You bought me clothes." He sounded so in awe that someone could do something like that for him. While slightly flattered, Remus didn't necessarily like that Sirius didn't take these things for granted. In his opinion, Sirius should feel like nothing but the very best was appropriate for him. "You bought my favourite shirts again," he whispered.

Remus smiled and nodded, and he said, "Well, my jumpers aren't really your style."

Sirius's grip on Remus's butt tightened for just a second as Sirius pulled him in again in one long exhale. Their lips found together like magnets, like it was second nature. They hadn't kissed like this before, so it was a little clumsy, and Remus didn't quite know what to do. Still, somehow, it seemed like they were meant to be doing nothing else but kissing like this; over a pile of clothes Remus had bought for Sirius and with Sirius's hands on his butt.

Suddenly, Remus grew horribly conscious of his hands and that they were still hanging limp by his sides. He knew he should be doing something with them, but he didn't know what. Sirius seemed to have it all figured out: his hands were expertly travelling from Remus's butt up his back and carefully holding the sides of his neck. Remus tried holding Sirius's waist, which seemed like a safe bet, but he found the angle incredibly awkward. Sirius surely didn't feel like this when he held onto Remus's waist, right? What was he doing wrong? Quickly, Remus took his hands away again. Maybe he should have experimented a little more instead of pining for Sirius this whole time. So many precious years of exercise had been lost on him. Remus thought maybe he'd hold Sirius's neck like he was doing to Remus, but as his hands moved up, Sirius's moved down, causing their arms to bump into each other. Remus flinched and wanted to curse, but his lips were still occupied.

Then, without warning, Sirius's warm fingers curled around Remus's hands. He let Sirius guide his hands, wondering where he was going with this. And then it clicked, and Remus's eyes flew open. Sirius had placed Remus's hands on his butt. "Relax, Remus," he whispered when he felt Remus stiffen in surprise.

Relax, Remus repeated to himself, closing his eyes again. He needed to relax. This position didn't feel awkward to him. It was actually really nice. Despite having admired it many times from afar, Remus had never touched Sirius's butt, and he was pleasantly surprised to find that it felt as nice as it looked. Sirius gave him a small nod, obviously feeling that Remus was indeed relaxing and accepting the placement of his hands.

Now that that concern was out of the way, Remus could focus on everything else: the feeling of Sirius's rough hands against the skin of his neck; the way his tongue expertly teased Remus's own; and the warmth of Sirius's body as he was moving closer. He was moving closer. That realisation pulled the plug in Remus's mind. He had been close to Sirius while kissing before, and he had thought that the two of them were close now, but when he felt Sirius's chest softly touchig his, he realised how far away the two of them had really been. There had always been a kind of safety distance between them that Sirius had more-or-less insisted on so that their more delicate areas wouldn't accidentally touch and cause too much friction to stop. Now, Remus was forced to notice that he only needed to shove his hips forward to make their groins touch.

It took everything in him, that wolfish strength of his, to fight against his urges and keep his hips right where they were. Sirius wanted to take it slow so they would take it slow. But Remus wanted it. Oh, he wanted it so badly that it physically hurt. And wasn't Sirius doing it just for Remus's sake? So if Remus were the one initiating it...?

"We have to stop."

The words were past Remus's lips before he could stop them. Merlin's beard, what was he doing? Why was he saying these horrible words? And why were his hands leaving Sirius's butt? Why were his feet taking a step back? Remus didn't know why his body was working against him, and he was mad. He was mad and angry but he also knew that this was the right thing to do. Even though the look in Sirius's eyes was utter confusion, Remus knew that this was what he wanted, too.

"Did I do something?" Sirius asked, and Remus couldn't even blame him no matter how ridiculous that question sounded coming from Sirius Black after a kiss like that where he very clearly had done nothing but absolute perfection. After all, Remus, too, would jump to the immediate conclusion that it was his fault that they were stopping. Hell, Remus had thought that.

Still, he shook his head and smiled. He reached up to brush a strand of beautiful black hair out of Sirius's face. "No, you did nothing wrong," Remus assured the man, and his expression immediately softened as if he was exhaling for the first time since they had separated. "I just..." Remus felt his cheeks blushing instantly. "If we don't stop now, I'll do something you wouldn't want me to do."

Just like that, Sirius's whole entire demeanour changed. He went from insecure little boy to cocky in a quarter of a second. He tilted his head to the side and gave Remus a provocative smirk. "And what is that?"

Remus rolled his eyes. While he was glad to see that Sirius wasn't broken up about this, he didn't appreciate being toyed with like that. Still, he figured two could play that game. "Pulling my jumper off your body and throwing you down on the bed," he replied, all casual and nonchalant.

He could watch Sirius's eyebrows twitch just a little - his tell when he was surprised about something. Years and years of obsessively watching Sirius had given Remus a brilliant insight into the little quirks and habits he had. His surprised eyebrow-twitch was one thing, or the wiggling of his nose when he had a secret, or the adorable little sound he made when he was falling asleep. And Remus never failed to notice the moment Sirius slipped his punk rock mask over these small cracks in his demeanour, effortlessly going back to teasing.

"And what makes you say I wouldn't want that?" he asked.

Remus rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "Because you told me you want to do this right." Another slip of Sirius's mask, and Remus left it uncommented. Instead, he let his fingers trail over the soft  beard that had grown on Sirius's face again. "You need to shave," he pointed out, his voice barely more than a whisper.

There was something so intimate about Remus touching Sirius's beard and about the way Sirius gently leaned his face into Remus's hand. They stood in silence for a moment, touching in a not-at-all and yet simultaneously the most innocent way Remus could imagine. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears mixed with the sound of Sirius's breathing. He could have fallen asleep right then and there, but then the other man moved, and Remus was pulled awake again.

"I'll take a shower, then," Sirius said. He pressed a kiss to Remus's cheek in passing on his way to the door.

Remus closed his eyes for a second as the kiss lingered on his skin a little longer and then called after Sirius. Remus picked up the brand-new Led Zeppelin jumper on the very top of the pile and tossed it to Sirius, who caught it with a grin. When he came back from the shower, he was wearing the jumper paired with Remus's joggers that he, for some reason, didn't want to give back even though he had his own now. Remus was already lying in his bed, having crawled under the blankets after cleaning up the mess in the other room with a flick of his wand. He wasn't surprised to see Sirius in his doorframe - Sirius had had to sleep in a cold and dark cave for the past two nights, so it was no wonder that he wanted Remus there with him tonight. When he slipped under the covers, he brought a smell of roses and cedarwood with him, and his skin was still warm from the hot water he had shamelessly used up.

"The joggers are too big for you," Remus whispered once Sirius was settled in, lying comfortably next to him with his damp hair tickling Remus's neck.

Sirius turned his head to Remus, who, even in the darkness, could see the glare. He knew that Sirius had never wanted to acknowledge this fact. He knew that even back at Hogwarts, Sirius had pretended it wasn't true and that everyone was just playing a joke on him. Remus knew that Sirius knew, so he didn't have to say it.

"Madam Malkin said so too," Remus told him, giving a shrug as if this really wasn't his opinion. It was all Madam Malkin.

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "That old crow. She said no such thing."

At this, Remus had to laugh. "She said she knew the robes weren't for me because they would be too small."

Sirius gasped and rolled to his side so that he could prove his unhappiness by turning his back to Remus. "You're rude," he grumbled.

Remus chuckled and closed the distance between them again, wrapping his arm around Sirius and kissing his neck. "Don't be upset, love," he whispered. "You might be shorter than me, but you're way hotter."

Sirius turned around in Remus's arm so that their noses were now almost touching. "Neither of those two statements is true."

Though Remus chuckled again, he didn't feel much like arguing when Sirius kissed him; probably to shut him up and stop him from pressing his point any further. Remus had no objections. He wasn't morally opposed to letting himself be bribed into submission.

Chapter Text

Sirius was tired. He hadn't had more than three uninterrupted hours of sleep in days, and those few precious moments had been far from relaxing with nightmares never far out of reach. Even sleeping with Remus by his side, like Sirius had done so often these days, he couldn't find any rest. His visit to Hogsmeade had done little to calm his mind, and Sirius found himself plagued by worry even more than before. Something wasn't right at Hogwarts, but Sirius was lacking real information to figure out what was going on. Ron had promised to write a letter to his brother, but days had gone by without a reply. Sirius would have to practice a lot of patience, but he knew that this wasn't exactly his strongest characteristic.

Dumbledore had started to give Remus some work - boring stuff that Sirius didn't want to and wasn't allowed to participate in. He was a fugitive, Remus had said and Dumbledore had repeated in a letter. No need to keep reminding me, Sirius had thought, but he hadn't said anything out loud. Instead, he mostly spent his days by himself while Remus was tucked away in his office - sometimes for hours on end. He wouldn't tell Sirius much about what he was working on, so Sirius had stopped asking after a few failed attempts. He wasn't that curious anyway. Once he found magazines from the past few years in the living room, Sirius used them to forget about the time.

Mid-march, Sirius was done with the magazines, done listening to all of the vinyl records, and he was done sitting around. He was slightly annoyed that he had wasted what he supposed had been his one chance of fresh air on a silly walk to the park across the street months ago. He should have dragged his boredom out for more than a week or so. He should have deserved himself that outing. Now, he was clawing at the walls, and Remus was busy, but he wouldn't allow Sirius outside a second time. It had been hard enough to convince him back then, so Sirius suspected he had no chance to do it again.

With nothing to occupy his mind, Sirius found himself lost in thoughts more often than before when he had still had things to do to distract him from his daydreams. Whenever he had more than a few minutes of silence, unpleasant thoughts crept up on him, taking him by surprise every time again. To get rid of them, Sirius jumped up and moved around aimlessly or put on music or bothered Remus long enough until he gave up on work and entertained Sirius. This pattern was exceptionally familiar to them from their younger years at Hogwarts when Sirius had had other horrible things on his mind that he had needed to distract himself from.

Sometimes, though, Sirius stayed still and let himself be swallowed up by the daydreams. Now was such a time. He had been watching Live Aid, but his thoughts had drifted off, and now he was in a sea of worries with no lifeline in sight. With every passing minute, Sirius drifted farther from the shore, and soon enough, he would drown. He was thinking about Harry again - or rather still because Sirius had never really stopped thinking about his godson. He had gotten a package of food from the boy, which must have triggered this particular line of thought.

"Does he think I'm not feeding you?" Remus had asked with a laugh and a raised eyebrow when Sirius had unpacked food that had undoubtedly come from the Hogwarts kitchens.

Sirius had shaken his head, smiled, and explained that Harry didn't know that Sirius was staying with Remus. "I thought it would be best if he didn't know where exactly I am."

Remus had raised his eyebrow at that. "Why? Don't you think he'd be more worried to think you're living in a cave with no food instead of a warm flat with plenty of food?"

"And with you," Sirius had added with a grin, and Remus had picked up on the fact that Sirius didn't feel like explaining himself.

The truth was, Sirius knew how worried Harry was, and he knew that nothing would ease his mind - just as no reassurance would ease Sirius's mind concerning Harry. The two of them were in two different situations of danger, and Harry's was considerably more grave. If things went wrong for Sirius, he would end up back in Azkaban with the Dementors. If things went wrong for Harry, he would end up dead. One of these things Sirius could handle. The other one he could not. So the two of them would continue worrying about each other for a while, but Sirius would rather have Harry worry about him than give him the chance to look at his own dire situation too closely.

And dire the situation was. Sirius was keeping up on the Daily Prophet, and though most of the articles were rubbish, he could tell that something was up. It wasn't only Rita Skeeter's nonsense, which had gained in ridiculousness with every article. It was also the things said between the lines: that the old Death Eater families were starting to become a little resteless. Every other morning or so, Remus and Sirius glanced at each other over their papers and coffee as they recognised yet another name. Only last week, Walden Macnair had made the news with a win at an antique auction. Remus had said that was the first time he had been featured in the news since his trial after Voldemort's downfall. Though an auction was far from illegal, Macnair's presence was unusual, and Sirius couldn't help but wonder.

And what Harry had said about Snape didn't sit right with Sirius either. He didn't trust Snape one bit - not by a long shot - but he trusted Dumledore. Though he didn't always agree with the old man's decisions (his own situation being only one example), he had faith that Dumbledore knew what he was doing and that his decisions would lead to the best outcome. Still, it didn't sit right with him that Snape was acting more suspicious than usual around the same time that other followers of Voldemort were doing things like buying magical tables at auctions. Sirius didn't believe in coincidence.

Sirius's mind wandered to the more time-pressing matter at hand: Harry's final trial was only months away, and Sirius knew that the third trial was always the hardest. As Harry had described it, he had gotten through the last two trials with nothing more than pure luck. Although Sirius really refused to believe that. Harry had so much of his parents in him - probably more than he even realised. James's tenacity and Lily's brilliance were sure to get him through the last trial safely; just as they had in the past.

"What was Harry like?" Sirius asked out loud suddenly. "At school?"

Remus looked up from the letter he had been writing. "All these months, and you never asked," he said. "Why now?"

Sirius shrugged. He hadn't asked because he hadn't been ready to hear the answer. He didn't think he could have handled to know how much Harry resembled the people Sirius had been forced to miss every day for nearly half of his life. He hadn't been able to handle thinking about James. For many years in Azkaban, Sirius had drained his head and his heart of any memory the Dementors could use against him. Now, however, he felt like he needed to know. He had no other choice. James was one of the most precious people in the world to him, and so was his son. Memories couldn't hurt Sirius. Not anymore. Not in the daylight while Remus was right here, at least, his soft voice calming Sirius more than anything else could.

Sirius didn't say any of this, though. He only remarked, jokingly, "I didn't know it's a crime to ask about my godson."

Remus rolled his eyes and put down his quill. "He was brilliant," he answered, and those three words alone were enough to make Sirius's face light up.

"Brilliant?" he asked.

With a grin, Remus nodded and got up. When he sat down next to Sirius, they were so close that their knees were touching as they were both slightly turned to each other. Remus turned off the television, reminding Sirius that he had been in the middle of watching the tape of the live performance. He could tell from Remus's eyes alone that he had waited for this moment, waited to talk about Harry to someone who knew. Someone who knew how much he could be mistaken for James Potter - by looks alone, but by so much more.

"I swear, Sirius, sometimes I had a little heart attack when I saw him," Remus said, slightly chuckling although Sirius knew that chuckle too well to believe it was fully humorous.

"That much, hm?" Sirius asked, smiling too, but his smile was genuinely happy.

Remus nodded. "You have no idea. When I caught him with the Map - with our Map - I thought I was hallucinating. It was uncanny, Sirius. Uncanny."

Sirius laughed. He could imagine Remus stumbling across the scene in the hallway because he had told Sirius the story so many times already, and it never failed to make Sirius smile. But they had never talked about it like this - never had Sirius asked for more than this. As a matter of fact, now that Sirius thought about it more thoroughly, he realised that when he imagined the scene, the boy with the Marauders Map didn't have a scar on his forehead. He didn't have green eyes, but the bright hazel ones behind the round glasses were filled with just as much mischief and kindness.

"The Map was always intended for him," Sirius said, smiling softly and sadly as he was thinking what Remus was about to say next.

"It was," he agreed with a firm nod. "But he wasn't supposed to get it like this."

Sirius nodded as well, earnestly, and his smile faltered a little. Harry wasn't supposed to have more-or-less stumbled across the Map by accident, having it handed to him by someone who had stumbled across it themselves. The Map should have been handed to Harry by its very makers - his father and godfather and their best friends - on his eleventh birthday when it was time for him to start his first year at Hogwarts. Harry was supposed to have known who the Marauders were and what they had gotten up to with that Map. Instead, the names on the Map had been entirely foreign to him, and even now, he knew barely more than who they were really.

"So he's smart, then?" Sirius asked although he knew the answer already. He knew how bloody intelligent his godson was, even without Remus telling him. Harry had proven his intelligence and skill on their first encounter alone, where he had saved his own and Sirius's lives by performing a full Patronus at thirteen years old. Sirius was damn proud of him.

Still, his heart skipped a beat when Remus grinned, "Yes, Sirius. He's incredibly smart. He's a talented boy."

"Just like his mother," Sirius said, fondly remembering the brightest witch he had ever known. But not just her intelligence had stuck with him. It was her radiance, her kindness, and her unshakeable loyalty that Sirius missed most about Lily.

This time, Remus didn't let his smile fall even the slightest. Despite the sudden glistening in his eyes at the mention of the woman who had been his dearest girlfriend, his lips stayed in that bright smile. "And he doesn't give up," he continued, his voice proud. "He tried again and again to produce a Patronus, and he didn't stop no matter how many times he failed. I think that's why he will win this Tournament."

With every word Remus spoke, Sirius's chest swelled with pride more and more. He wished he could have been there, seeing Harry's training and growth. Sirius desperately wished he could have seen the boy grow up and teach him some things himself. In some way, Sirius was a little jealous of Remus, who had at least had the opportunity to partake in Harry's education. Whenever Harry would cast a Patronus or think of a Dementor, he would remember Remus and their private lessons. There was nothing that reminded him of Sirius. Azkaban, maybe.

"Sirius, I'm begging you," Remus scolded him when Sirius voiced his thoughts out loud; but only after Remus had asked him twice why he had gotten silent. "Harry doesn't need anything to remember you by. He's thinking of you every day, at every opportunity. He's thinking of you when he thinks of family."

For a while, Sirius was silent, Remus's words weighing on his mind. He certainly hoped that Remus was right. He knew that Remus was right. Still, accepting it seemed rather hard. Maybe Harry was thinking of him constantly, maybe only sporadically. As long as he thought of Sirius at all, that was fine by him. He neither expected nor wanted the boy's world to revolve around him. Now that Remus was right beside him and didn't have to miss him anymore, Sirius supposed it was still nice to have someone else thinking about him again.

Still silent, Remus reached over and threaded his fingers through Sirius's. Their eyes met, and the corner of Sirius's lips tugged upward. His heart and mind were racing, but on his tongue were too many things to be said. He loved Remus more than he had ever loved anything or anyone in his life. That fact rang through the clutter in his brain like a bell - clear and crisp and loud. I love him, I love him, I love him. Still, no matter how certain Sirius was of this, his tongue was too heavy to speak. He loved him. He loved him.

He loved him.

Sirius's throat closed up, too weak to say what he was thinking.

Remus, however, nodded. There was understanding in his big, beautiful eyes. And then his lips stretched into a wide smile, so wide that it showed his teeth and quieted Sirius's bain. "Don't look so gloomy, pretty boy," he said.

Sirius couldn't help but smile back. Remus was playing unfairly; he knew exactly that Sirius loved pet names and couldn't resist them. He leaned closer, his good nose smelling all of Remus. Sirius breathed him in, the smell of earth and comfort, of the smoke from the fireplace and the leather that lingered at his fingertips of the uncountable books he had read. Many times, Sirius had fantasised of putting these fingers in his mouth and seeing if he could taste the leather, too.

Their noses touched. When they were close like this, Sirius could count the light freckles, like stars spilt down from the skies resting across Remus's nose. He could see every single stand of colour weaved into Remus's eyes; the different shades of green, and the gold, and the few strands of bright honey. Sirius watched with fascination how Remus's eyes fluttered shut, and he closed the last bit of space between their lips. Remus tasted of sweets and tea, a faint hint of the camomile he had drunk this morning, and autumn air. His taste was like ambrosia to Sirius's lips, and he would die rather than stop drinking.

Remus had other plans, and Sirius whined when they separated again, the cold settling against his lips where Remus's warmth had been seconds before. "Sirius," he whispered, and Sirius braced himself for the word stop. But it never came. "How long do you think it will take until I realise that this is more than sex?"

Sirius laughed and rolled his eyes, then grabbed the other man's collar and pulled him closer again. "Smartass," he whispered against the soft lips that he tasted seconds later.

Even during the kiss, Sirius could feel Remus smiling, and he wanted to roll his eyes again. It was slightly startling to hear Remus being so forward about having sex with Sirius, but Sirius wasn't complaining. Not one bit. He wanted it, too, and badly. He wanted to show Remus how much he loved him in every way possible, but something was holding him back.

Over the next couple of days, Sirius kept pondering what it might be that was stopping him from tearing Remus's clothes off and making love to him every time they were close. Yes, it was what Sirius had told him before: that he wanted Remus to know that this was more than he had ever had or wanted before. But he had come to realise that there was more than that:

Sirius felt like he didn't deserve Remus. He knew that Remus would disagree, but Sirius also knew that it was the truth. He was broken. He couldn't even fully love himself, so why would he put that burden on Remus? Why would he want to make Remus feel like he had to make up for the love Sirius couldn't give himself? He didn't. Sirius would never ever make Remus feel like he would have to take care of Sirius. He felt like it was wrong of him to take that physical vulnerability from Remus without giving him his emotional vulnerability in return. So, Sirius decided he had to learn that first. He had to figure out how to put himself together before dumping the shards of himself on Remus.

It was hard to find a point to start from. There were so many loose threads in Sirius's mind, all floating around in his head as if touching them to tie them together would hurt. There were too many. Too many things he didn't dare think about. James and Peter were only two in a web of endless pains and traumas. Would Sirius go back further in time, starting from Halloween 1981, he would hit 1979, and before that, the start of the war in 1970. If he dared, he would go back to Hogwarts and find the happy times he had had and the unhappy times, too. The times he had refused to eat. The time he had run away to James's family. The punishments at home. The striking panic he had felt when the Sorting Hat had shouted "Gryffindor." The even bigger fear when, two years later, it had shouted "Slytherin."

Sirius didn't even dare approach this. He stayed as far away from this as possible. Contrary to everything else, James was always there. James was always waiting behind Sirius's eyelids, his laugh echoing with every beat of Sirius's heart. No matter how much it hurt to think about him - happy and alive or sad and not - Sirius would much rather feel that pain than not think about him at all. He could never and would never force himself not to think about James. Sirius had gotten used to the sadness that now accompanied his memories of James and Lily, and to the anger he felt when he thought of Peter. He would almost go as far as say that he had learned to find some sort of comfort in the pain. For twelve years, he had known nothing much else. He didn't know if he even remembered how to be just happy anymore.

And then there was Remus. He had entered the living room where Sirius had been spaced out for too long, and Remus placed the needle on the vinyl. Sirius glanced up as the sound of Every Breath You Take pushed the dark thoughts from his mind. Remus was standing there by the record player, leaning against the wall and watching Sirius with curious eyes. Sirius thought he didn't know how to be fully happy anymore. And then there was Remus. Sirius bit his lip as tears flooded his eyes. Remus. Sirius knew that he would never be unhappy again with him by his side.

Remus frowned at the change of Sirius's expression, but then realisation dawned, and he was by his side in an instant. "What's wrong?" he asked as he did so often even though Sirius rarely replied. Sirius loved that about him - that he always asked.

Still, Sirius sighed. He took Remus's hand, and together, they sat in silence for a while. Sirius's mind didn't wander. With Remus close to him, Sirius's mind was always right there in the present. He loved that about Remus, too, that he functioned as a silencing spell on his brain. Sirius just couldn't imagine anything being more important than Remus. He didn't ask again what was wrong, and Sirius found another thing that he loved. It was everything about Remus, really.

"I -" Sirius swallowed. Remus's big eyes found his, and Sirius had to look away before he would chicken out again. "I need you to know how important you are to me."

Remus frowned seriously. "I know," he said, but he didn't get it. He didn't get how much.

"No, Remus," Sirius argued, and Remus's brow furrowed even more. "No, you don't. I want to talk to you about things, but I just... I can't, Moony, but it's nothing about you. It's me. I'm a broken mess, and I'm trying to... to change that."

Almost like a reflex, Remus tightened his grip on Sirius's hand. His eyes were so terribly sincere as he said, "You don't have to figure this out on your own. You're not alone, Sirius. I'm with you."

And that was all it took for the tears to spill out of Sirius's eyes. I'm not alone, he reminded himself. That warm feeling spread through his chest, blossoming like a flower in spring. Sirius wasn't alone anymore. Twelve years in a small, dark cell in Azkaban and a year on the run had made him believe that loneliness would forever be a part of him. Sirius had believed to have lost everyone - James and Lily were dead, Peter was a traitor, and Remus had thought him to be the traitor. Sirius had thought nothing would make him happy and comfortable again.

And then there was Remus.

Chapter Text

As the days of April bled into each other, Remus found himself at a loss for what to do. Sirius had gotten quiet in the past few weeks, spending more days curled up on the sofa and sleeping fewer nights in Remus's bed. He was barely talking, which Remus couldn't help but be irritated and confused by. Hadn't Sirius said he wanted to talk about things? Remus didn't bother him about it; he figured Sirius would come to him when he was ready. Still, it wasn't easy to watch him day by day, sitting by himself, not even really listening to music anymore. Sometimes, when Remus looked up from his work, he found Sirius's face pinched into a concentrated expression that used to be strictly reserved for the planning of their pranks.

The moon was swelling again, getting fuller in the sky as April rushed by them, and Remus's irritation was reaching new heights. More than once, he had had to remove himself from the room before he would snap at Sirius. He knew that his friend needed time to deal with his issues, and Remus really didn't mean half the things the moon was making him think. It was just his curiosity and impatience mixing together, creating an anxiety in his mind that the wolf was feeding on, stirring it into something bigger than it actually was.

As a result of keeping the remarks concerning Sirius to himself, Remus ended up lashing out at everything else. Sirius had learned long ago that telling Remus to calm down was counterproductive, so all he did was press his lips together and take a step back. Especially when they were in the kitchen and Remus started grumbling about something not working out, Sirius often reached over and took the knife from Remus's hand before letting him go on with his tantrum. When he was done, Remus would apologise, ashamed, and Sirius would tell him there was nothing to apologise for.

"I just don't know what's wrong with me this week," Remus mumbled when they sat down for lunch after he had nearly chopped off his finger and Sirius had had to fix him up with a spell.

"It's the moon," he only replied and filled Remus's plate for him.

"Well, I know that," Remus snapped and sighed at the sight of Sirius's grin as he kept his head down. "It's different this month, though. I wasn't this bad last month, right?"

Sirius took a moment to think about this. Eventually, he shook his head. "No, I guess you weren't."

Remus sighed again. The first full moon with Sirius at his place had been a weird one because it had been the first one together in many years. The second one, last month, had been less straining  emotionally than physically - Remus's joints had been especially sensitive, owing to the cold weather in March. But April's full moon was shaping up to be a rather hard one. Remus wasn't unfamiliar with hard full moons, but he'd much rather have an easy one.

"Is anything the matter?" Sirius asked when Remus hadn't said anything in too long.

Though Remus tried to remind himself that Sirius was only being nice and didn't mean any harm, he got only halfway through that thought before his mouth started to move all on its own. "Of course something's the matter!" he snapped, and he couldn't stop himself anymore. "But not with me. With you!"

Sirius tensed, but to his credit, he didn't flinch or look angry like he should. He had every right to be mad at Remus for saying this. Instead, he sat perfectly still. Too still. He regarded Remus with curious eyes, carefully taking in his heaving chest and flaring nostrils. Remus felt hot shame climbing up his neck, but he didn't say anything. He didn't apologise like he knew he should. He said nothing because he was scared that if he opened his mouth again, more things he didn't mean would come out.

"I know how unfair this is to you," said Sirius with a low and understanding tone, which made Remus even more ashamed. Sirius didn't deserve his irrational anger, and he deserved even less to feel like it was justified. "I know I don't have the right to ask you for anything, so I won't ask you to give me some time, either. But please, Moony, don't be angry with me. I couldn't handle it."

Hearing these words, almost begging, Remus softened immediately. How could he not? He had wronged his friend, and yet Sirius thought he was the one in the wrong. "Sirius," Remus almost whispered, his voice feeble compared to Sirius's earnest tone. "You don't have to ask for time. You already have it. I'm not going anywhere. I told you: you're not alone."

Sirius's shoulders visibly relaxed, as if he was letting out a breath of relief. Then, he frowned a little. "But it still bothers you." It wasn't a question.

Remus nodded. There was no need to lie. "Yes," he replied carefully, "but not because I think you don't want to talk to me or anything. I just don't like seeing you like this. I miss it when you were happy."

"I am happy," Sirius argued, but Remus was already shaking his head.

"You know what I mean," he told him. "You might be a little happy now when you're with me, but ultimately, there's a shadow hovering over everything, and it swallows you up every time you have a free minute to think. It's like when the war started. We were happy when we were together, but too much was happening otherwise."

There was a moment of silence in which Remus's heart started to race. This was the first time the two of them had gotten this close to the subject of the war. This was also the first time Sirius's unhappiness had been acknowledged out loud. Remus was nervous about where this conversation might go, and he wondered whether either of them would break it off before it could get too serious. He hoped not. They finally seemed to be getting somewhere.

Slowly, Sirius moved his head to a nod. "I know," he admitted quietly. "But I really am happy when I'm with you."

Remus chuckled at that. His temper from before was fully gone by now. "I never doubted that, my love."

Sirius's cheeks flushed, and he looked away. With his eyes on his food, which was already getting cold, he said, "I'm just trying to figure out how to... how to start, I guess. To talk."

There was a knot in Remus's throat as he forced the next words to his lips. "James would know what to do."

It was true. Although all of the Marauders had been incredibly close - Sirius and Remus especially - James had always been somewhat of a "Sirius-whisperer." But now that James wasn't here, Remus had noticed several times already that he missed being able to turn to his friend for help or advice. James had always known what to say or do concerning Sirius. He had been Remus's guiding force in many situations (even if he sometimes said nothing more than that Remus should handle that one on his own). It was shameful for Remus to have to admit that out loud, though. He didn't want to admit to Sirius that he was a little jealous of his relationship with James. There was no need for jealousy anyway; but Sirius had been open with James, talked to him, and confided in him. Times and circumstances had been different, sure, but it still bothered Remus a little.

Sirius, however, shook his head. His lips were in a crooked smile when he looked back up at Remus, who was surprised to see it. "James would have no bloody clue what to do," he disagreed.

Somehow, it relaxed Remus a little to just hear Sirius say this; whether it was true or not. Still, he shrugged with a rather sheepishly shy smile. He didn't really know what to say. Continuing in this direction would make him have to admit that he felt useless sometimes. Sirius was going through a whole transformation in his head, trying to figure things out and get himself right again, but he wasn't talking about it, so Remus had no idea what was happening. He just sat next to him and was painfully oblivious. Back then, Remus had had the ability to tell most of Sirus's moods just by looking at him. But Sirius had built up a wall around himself - out of necessity, of course, to protect himself from the Dementors - but his moods were hidden behind that wall now, too.

Not for the first time, Remus found himself wondering whether Sirius had really only started building this wall in Azkaban or whether that had started way earlier - perhaps in his childhood already. It wouldn't surprise him if Sirius had had the foundations of the wall even before the two of them had met. Remus didn't ask. He didn't think Sirius was ready to talk about this; about his family and his childhood. He was only just now opening up about the past few years, so Remus didn't want to push him.

They finished lunch mostly in silence, which gave Remus's thoughts the opportunity to spiral again. By the time they were cleaning up, Remus was so riled up that he whipped his wand a little too hard, causing a plate to shatter. Just as Remus wanted to snarl at the plate and curse himself out for having made such a mistake, he felt Sirius's hand on his hip. From behind him, Sirius reached around and took the wand from Remus's hand. Closing his eyes, Remus took a deep breath. He had to calm down, but it was so hard. It was like forcing a lid onto a pot of boiling water. And the lid was hot. Remus realised that he was trembling, so he tried to focus on the feeling of Sirius's warm hand on his hip, of his closeness against Remus's back.

"Go sit down," Sirius said softly. "I'll take care of the kitchen."

At a time this close to the moon, all of Remus's senses were heightened, which meant that the slightest touch sent shivers down his spine. Sirius smelled like metal and freedom, and if Remus closed his eyes and concentrated for long enough, he could pretend that he still smelled of cigarettes and leather. There was a hint of something that Remus hadn't ever smelled before, and he had the sudden urge to press his nose to Sirius's skin and figure out what it was.

They were still standing like this - Sirius right behind Remus, holding Remus's wand in one hand and his hip in the other - and something shifted in the air between them, as if the atoms were rearranging. Remus's heartbeat quickened, and he felt his prick swelling in his joggers. His mouth got dry, and his skin got hot. Remus turned around, and the sight of Sirius made his heart skip a beat. Sirius had grown a stubble, and Remus couldn't help but lift his fingertips to his jaw and feel it. He heard the sharp intake of breath from the other man and felt the shiver beneath his fingertips.

"Moony -" Sirius whispered, his voice shaking. He was about to say more when Remus said, "Shh," and shook his head.

He flattened his palm against the side of Sirius's face and licked his lips. With every second, Remus felt more and more hot. His head was spinning, and all he could feel was lust and desire building up inside of him, building and building and building. Remus squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the pain and the pressure in his trousers. He could find that one single thread of sanity and rational thought in his head, but his grip on it was slipping.

And slipping.

And slipping.

And Remus let go.

His lips crashed against Sirius's with such a force that the other man stumbled back a little and let out a soft "oof." Sirius tasted like the lunch they had just had and like the sky. He tasted like all the kisses they had never shared, like all the stolen glances in hallways and classrooms, like all the missed moments in the common room and dormitory. Against Remus's lips, Sirius's were soft and warm, and his stubble was scratchy beneath Remus's palm. The thread of sanity was now so far gone that Remus couldn't reach it even if he wanted to. Which he didn't.

He led Sirius backward into the living room, tripping and stumbling and almost falling, but Sirius stopped him even before they reached the sofa. His grip on Remus's wrist was firm and almost demanding, but Remus didn't care. For him, this was perfect. Even when Sirius said his nickname again, Remus didn't hear the warning in his voice. For him, this was exactly what he wanted. In a haze of overwhelming lust, Remus pressed his front against Sirius, feeling every ridge and angle against him. He could feel Sirius's ribs against his own, sharp and defined, and he could feel Sirius's erection against his own. Remus gasped when their crotches touched, and his eyes rolled back into his head. He was so close already. Just a little more friction...

"Remus," Sirius whispered, but Remus couldn't hear him over the sound of his own heartbeat and the blood rushing through their bodies.

He was completely lost in his own crazed desire, and he couldn't think straight anymore. All Remus could think of was the next stroke of his tongue, the next drop of Sirius in his mouth, the next swirl of his hips. He hated that they could have been doing this for years and that they had missed out on so many good moments. Remus was mad, he was angry, and he poured it all into the kiss. A moan slipped past his lips as the tension in his trousers continued to build. He wouldn't be able to hold on much longer.

The grip on his hip came unexpectedly and was firmer than he liked. "Remus, stop!" Sirius was snapping, probably not for the first time, and pulled Remus off of him as the real world slowly came back to him.

With wide eyes, Remus saw that Sirius's lip was bleeding, and not just a little. The blood was trickling down his chin until Sirius reached his hand up to stop it. Shockingly, Remus realised that he could taste the blood on his tongue, the metallic and tangy taste suddenly heavy in his mouth. Remus stumbled backwards. What had he done? Through the sensation of rubbing against Sirius, Remus hadn't seen how wrong it had been of him to do that. He had almost... He couldn't even think it. He was disgusting, and here was the proof. Remus took another step backwards as Sirius wiped the blood off his chin and sucked at his bottom lip to stop it from bleeding.

"Listen, I know that you're angry and frustrated, Moony," Sirius said, using the nickname to soften the blow. Remus didn't appreciate it. He wanted the blow. He deserved for it to hurt. "But you can't use me to let that out."

Remus felt worse about himself than he had in a long time. He hadn't meant to do this. But the moon was not a good enough excuse here. Remus knew that the wolf only heightened what was already there. And lust was there. It had been there for many years. "I know," Remus said, ashamed. "I know. I'm sorry."

The truth was, he was scared of himself. If he could do this, there was no telling what else he might be capable of during another bad moon. Who knew how high the tensions inside Remus could get and what they might push him to do? He was afraid that Sirius might reflect this badly on himself, thinking that it was his fault and somehow his responsibility to stop it. It was not. Remus felt it very necessary to state that his moods, his outbursts, and the wolf inside of him were not Sirius's to take care of.

Sighing, Sirius lifted Remus's wand, which he was still holding in his hand, and cleaned up his face and his other hand. He tossed the wand to the sofa without even looking, his eyes still on Remus. In the dim light of the dreary April afternoon, his eyes looked so dark that the colour of the iris was nearly the same as the colour of the pupil. Sirius took a step towards Remus, who automatically took one backwards without even thinking. He didn't trust himself enough to be close to Sirius right now; not while he could still feel his prick throbbing and his heart racing.

But Sirius insisted. He nearly rolled his eyes when he said, "Remus. It's alright." He took another step closer, and Remus stayed still. "You won't hurt me," Sirius reassured him.

"How do you know?" Remus asked. "I already did."

Sirius's lips twitched into a soft smile. "I trust you."

This time, when he moved towards Remus, he closed the distance between them again. Remus could feel his heart slowing down, and the pain inside his trousers was gone. Still, he didn't trust himself, so when Sirius wanted to reach for him, Remus slipped past him and sat down on the sofa. Sirius nodded to himself, understanding that this was a line that Remus didn't want him to cross. At the moment, at least. He sat down as well, considerably too far away, but Remus was thankful for the distance. He needed to clear his head first.

The hours slipped by, and the two men still hadn't said a word to each other. Remus wondered whether Sirius had already started hating him, but he didn't ask. They had both pulled out their books and continued to read them. However, Remus found his eyes on Sirius more often than on his book. In their younger years, it had been so rare to find Sirius sitting still. Yet here he sat, reading a book in perfect silence, and didn't even make a fuss about it. Remus smiled and focused back on the words written on the page before him.

Dumbledore had given him so much work recently that even Remus hadn't really found the time to just sit and read for a few hours. The work wasn't something that Remus was needed for. It wasn't even necessarily hard work, but it was enough to keep him busy. And to keep them inside the flat, Remus knew. Dumbledore wanted to prevent them from going outside again. Something was up. Not only had a wizard been at the park the last time they had gone out, but something was happening in the old Death Eater families. Remus had tried to find out more, but every attempt of his had been shut down by the headmaster. Too many questions would lead to too many answers would lead to Remus wanting to do something would lead to Sirius wanting to do something, too.

Even when Harry had sent them that awfully suspicious letter about Mr. Crouch, Sirius had wanted to do something, but Remus had told him not to. "It sucks, I know, but we have to trust Dumbledore to know what he's doing," he had said.

After sitting down for too long, Remus's joints started to ache, so he put his book down and got up to stretch his legs. Sirius closed his own book in his lap and looked up at Remus, his eyebrow furrowed in concern. "Are you alright?" he asked.

Remus sighed and sat down again. "I just want this bloody moon to be over."

It was a bad one this time. Despite the Wolfsbane Potion, the wolf was going mad, trapped inside Remus's head. When Remus fell down naked on the basement floor, Sirius fixed up his shoulder, which he had nearly ripped apart. They stayed down there for a while again until Remus's legs were steady enough to carry him upstairs. Sirius had to support more of his weight this time, and it took them longer to get back to the flat because even Sirius wasn't in the great shape he had once been. After sitting Remus down on the sofa, Sirius went to the kitchen to cook up some tea for him. Remus took the cup and sipped at the hot brew.

"How are you feeling?" Sirius asked like he always did after a full moon.

And Remus smiled and said, "Horrendous," like he always did.

He fell asleep on the sofa then, slightly shivering from exhaustion. When he woke up in the afternoon again, he was tucked in under a blanket, and Padfoot was asleep on the carpet next to him.

Chapter Text

For days, whenever Remus entered Sirius's room, he found him at his desk, scribbling away on pieces of parchment that he wouldn't let Remus see. He was starting to get worried, not having forgotten the little argument they had around the full moon. Sirius, however, didn't show any sign of resentment towards Remus whatsoever. In the evenings, he curled up next to Remus on the sofa to watch television, and always at least one body part was touching Remus. He slept in Remus's bed again as well, which seemed to relax both of them immensely.

Sirius's mood had lifted so much that he was even listening to music again and dancing around the living room while Remus was trying to do his work. Most of the time, Sirius pulled him out of his chair and made him dance as well. Remus was far from complaining, though. Although Remus didn't know why or where that change had come from, if Sirius was happy, then so was he. And if whatever Sirius was writing down was making him this happy, then by all means, Remus wanted him to keep it up.

But one day, at the beginning of May, when the sun was setting and the flowers outside were blooming again, Sirius passed the calendar in the kitchen on his way to get himself something to drink from the fridge. Remus was on the sofa, having finished looking through the few documents Dumbledore had sent his way two days ago after the full moon. He watched Sirius as he reached his hand to open the fridge but faltered, his whole demeanour changing in a matter of seconds. Remus furrowed his brow but didn't get to ask before Sirius opened his mouth.

"Wait," he said, scanning the calendar as if he was looking for some kind of mistake. "Tomorrow is the ninth?"

For just a second, Remus frowned in confusion, but then his eyes widened a little. Shit. He should have put the calendar away and let this day pass without Sirius noticing. Remus wanted to say something, but Sirius was already opening the fridge. He pulled out a bottle of lemonade and made his way back to the sofa. Remus watched in silence how Sirius sat down next to him and poured himself a drink. When their eyes met, Sirius smiled, but it was different. Tighter, somehow. Remus didn't know what to do about it, so he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the corner of Sirius's lips. The other man closed his eyes for a moment, even when Remus was already leaning back again.

What confused and worried Remus a little was that Sirius didn't vanish into his shell again. He didn't get quiet like he had done so often these days, and he didn't hide away in his room. He carried on like before, like he hadn't seen that tomorrow sixteen years ago, someone had gone somewhere and never came back. Usually, Remus should be glad that Sirius wasn't letting this bother him or ruin his mood, but Remus knew the truth. He knew that this was very much bothering Sirius, and he was just trying to hide it. And that was worse.

Still, Remus had promised himself not to force Sirius to talk, and especially not about his brother, so he didn't ask. That didn't mean that he wasn't worried or bloody curious. They went to bed not long after, and at first, Sirius wanted to go to his own room, but Remus stopped him.

"Sleep in my bed tonight?" he asked.

Sirius turned to look at him with big puppy eyes. "Moony," he said in a low voice, "I'm fine."

Remus shrugged, smiling softly. "I never said you weren't. I'm just offering." He shuffled from one foot to the other, keeping his head down. "If you don't want to, then that's okay." He knew, after all, that Sirius needed and deserved a little time alone sometimes. It wasn't like the two of them were always sitting on top of each other all day long, but nights were different, and if Sirius wanted to sleep alone, he could do that whenever he liked. But just because he could didn't mean that he also wanted to or that Remus wanted him to.

Before Remus could register what was going on, Sirius was right in front of him. He cupped Remus's jaw, his thumb lightly caressing his cheek, and lifted his head to make Remus look at him. At the touch, Remus's heart skipped a beat, and he thought he was going to faint. Sirius was so gentle with him that it broke his heart, and his eyes were so soft. So were his lips when they touched Remus's - soft and careful. Remus wanted nothing more than to stay like this for the rest of the night, but he knew that they couldn't. Sirius had to get some sleep.

"I will humbly accept your offer, kind sir," Sirius said with a smile, his tone mocking.

Remus kissed him again then, short and delicate, and the two of them stepped into his room. When the sun was out on days like today, Remus's room seemed to be storing all of the warmth, so when he opened the door, they were greeted by cosy air. He didn't long to find out how hot the room could get in the summer. Luckily, that was little to worry about for a wizard. The two men stripped down to their underpants and socks, and Sirius threw on a band T-shirt while Remus dug through his drawer for his oversized sleep shirt.

It was routine by now, their going to bed. Sirius would crawl into bed first, slipping under the covers and pulling them up to his chin. He would kick his feet to adjust the blanket and then lift it up as an invitation for Remus to join him. Remus would fuss about bringing over Sirius's own blanket and pillow from his room so that they didn't have to share his, but he never did. Sirius knew that Remus was only pretending to complain. Sometimes, Sirius would pull Remus into an embrace, squeezing him tightly against him so that there was no space left between their bodies. Or sometimes, Remus would wrap his arms around Sirius instead, feeling the way his body had grown over the past months. They would kiss, most of the time, because they were so close to each other and just couldn't help it. Remus loved that Sirius couldn't help it.

Tonight, the kiss was even more gentle than before, Remus wanting to be careful with Sirius. He cupped his face with both of his hands, Sirius's stubble prickly against his palms. They were both lying on their sides, face-to-face. Sirius had his eyes squeezed shut, and he was breathing heavily as though it took a lot of effort for him to hold something back - tears or lust, Remus wasn't sure. Maybe both. Remus pressed a kiss to Sirius's forehead and slid away a little to give his friend some space.

"Goodnight, Moony," Sirius whispered, smiling.

Remus's eyes were already falling shut. "Goodnight, Padfoot," he whispered back.

When he woke up again in the middle of the night, he shivered immediately in the cold. Remus felt for Sirius beside him, but the bed was empty. He sat up and looked around the room, which was empty, too. Where had Sirius gone? Remus sat still for a moment, straining his ears in an attempt to hear any sound of unrest. There was none. Still, Remus was filled with worry. How could he not, when Sirius was missing from his bed in the middle of the night?

Quietly, he set his bare feet down on the cold floor and sneaked out of the room. The flat was entirely silent. Remus pushed open the door to Sirius's room, expecting him to have come here in order to be undisturbed, but the bed there was empty as well. Remus frowned and turned his head in the other direction to the living room. He crept down the hallway. Despite having looked for him, Remus almost jumped a little when he found Sirius. He was sitting on the floor by the window, his knees tucked to his chest, and was looking up at the stars. Even when Remus entered, did the other man not look at him. Perhaps he was ignoring him or merely sunken in thoughts.

"Sirius?" Remus whispered, slowly approaching Sirius as one would approach an angry Hippogriff. He glanced up at the stars, too, to quickly confirm the constellation his friend was looking up at. When Sirius turned his head to Remus, there were tears sparkling in his eyes, but they had not yet left his eyes. He was smiling, too - a little sadly, but smiling nonetheless. "Are you okay?" Remus asked.

"Yes," Sirius said, sniffling a little. He pushed himself up and nodded. "Yes, I'm sorry, Moony. I didn't mean to worry you."

Remus decided not to push. Instead, he took Sirius's outstretched hand and accompanied him back to the bedroom. They laid down again in the sheets which were still warm, and Sirius quickly closed his eyes. Remus's stayed open for a little while longer as he made sure that his friend was asleep before he could find any rest himself. He startled awake again when a sound ran through him like lightning. Even with his eyes closed, Remus immediately recognised the sound and knew what was happening: Sirius was crying. It was a soft noise, quiet, the sound of him whimpering into his pillow in a desperate effort to hold in sobs. Remus pretened to be asleep for a little while longer before he would open his eyes and give himself away. He wanted to give Sirius some time on his own. To cry. To grieve. To be angry.

It was a horrible thing to lose one's sibling. Although Remus didn't have any, he knew how horrible it was, and yet he could never truly understand just how deep Sirius's loss of his brother had cut him. Not just sixteen years ago, but even before that. Remus would never be able to understand how it was to lose your sibling even though they were right there, right in front of you.

When Sirius's whimpers got choked like he wasn't getting enough air, Remus opened his eyes. Sirius had his back turned to him, his face buried in his pillow so as not to wake Remus. Softly and very carefully, Remus put his hand on Sirius's back, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. Sirius stiffened for a moment, surprised that Remus was awake and probably embarrassed that he had heard him. Then he lifted his head off the pillow and turned around, sliding right into Remus's outstretched arm. Remus folded it around his lover like a protective cloak and pulled him against his chest. Sirius buried his face in Remus's shirt and started to sob.

"Moony," he choked out between sobs. "Moony!"

"Shh," Remus whispered and rubbed his hand up and down Sirius's back. "Don't talk. It's okay."

Sixteen years ago, they had sat together in James's flat when they saw the article in the Daily Prophet, and Sirius had refused to cry. James and Remus and Peter had told him that it was okay to be sad, but Sirius had insisted that he wasn't.

"He made his own bed," Sirius had said, folding the paper shut and tossing it to the floor. "Now he's lying in it."

"Pads -" James had started, but Remus had put his hand on James's knee and shaken his head. No one could make Sirius feel what he didn't want to feel. He had to do that on his own. The three Marauders had sighed and wished that they had read to paper before handing it to Sirius, but how could they have known? Deaths had been happening everywhere to everyone. The beginning of the war had demanded many sacrifices. But they hadn't expected it to hit Voldemort's inner circle. His Death Eaters had seemed invulnerable.

Remus didn't know if Sirius had cried sixteen years ago when he was alone or if he had cried in any of the years after that. But now he was. Finally, he was letting go and laying down one more brick of his wall. He was letting Remus see him how he really was. Although Remus knew that Sirius would be wearing an unbothered smile again in the morning, he appreciated the moment now where he could feel the vibration of Sirius's real emotions under his fingertips. Even though he whished that those emotions weren't so heavy...

That night, Remus didn't get to sleep much - even less than Sirius, wo managed to fall asleep between sobs and cries. Remus's shirt was wet with tears, but he didn't mind. He kept holding onto Sirius like his life depended on it because it just as well might. For the whole night, Remus was close to tears himself. It was heartbreaking to see the person he loved being so incredibly vulnerable and unhappy. For the sake of Sirius, however, he held it together and tried his best to be strong for both of them. Remus kept rubbing Sirius's back until he could feel that the man was sound asleep, tired out from all the sadness. When Sirius had a nightmare and snapped awake again, his gasps for air turning into sobs, Remus was still holding him.

In the morning, Remus's eyes were itching and burning, but he assumed that Sirius's must feel even worse. Remus smiled softly when he looked down at Sirius, who was still sleeping. His lips were parted a little as he breathed gently, his eyelashes fluttering. Sirius looked so peaceful and beautiful. His hair was so long and wavy and soft, the black colour seemingly swallowing up all the light. Remus reached down and, with his index finger, pushed a curly strand of hair out of Sirius's face. Merlin, he was gorgeous.

Deciding to let Sirius sleep for as long as he wanted, Remus sneaked out of the room and shut the door behind himself. He made himself a cup of strong black tea and sat down with today's Daily Prophet. Legs crossed, Remus settled into his sofa and enjoyed the late sunny morning. The paper was filled with nonsense today; things about Hermione that Remus knew for a fact weren't true and about the Triwizard Tournament. Nothing about Mr Crouch. Remus sighed and flipped to the sports section, reading about the latest Quidditch games.

When he heard a faint tapping noise, Remus looked up from the paper and found that the noise was coming from Padfoot's nails on the hardwood floor. Before Remus knew it, the dog nudged his wet nose against Remus's hand. He uncrossed his legs and lifted his hands, and the dog lay his head in Remus's lap. Smiling, Remus folded the paper and put his hand into Padfoot's fur.

"Hey, sweetheart," Remus said, looking down at the big eyes of the dog. Padfoot whimpered a little and climbed up into Remus's lap, licking his face. Remus laughed and groaned under the weight of the big dog. "Whoa, are you trying to crush me?" he laughed, not at all complaining.

There was even less reason to complain when Sirius turned back into his human form, ending up straddling Remus, who all of a sudden didn't feel like laughing anymore. While Remus had put on joggers, Sirius was still only wearing the things he had slept in: the slightly cropped Boston band shirt and his underpants. No bottoms. Just socks. Remus wouldn't be surprised if his heart gave out.

"Hey," he breathed, tingly with the proximity of Sirius's face and chest and everything.

"Hey," Sirius whispered back, smiling.

"How are you doing?" Remus asked and hoped that the question wasn't unwelcome.

Although Sirius didn't reply immediately, he also didn't move from his position, so that was a good sign. He wrapped his arms around Remus's neck and gave him a kiss that lit his insides on fire. "I'm okay," he answered, and Remus believed him.

"Would you like a cup of tea? I made some."

Sirius shook his head. "No," he said, "thank you."

Remus's lips twitched into a smile, but he was so nervous. His whole body was tingling, and Remus was overwhelmingly aware of every inch where it was touching Sirius's. He willed himself not to get hard with Sirius in his lap, but it was a lot of effort. He just couldn't look Sirius in the eyes. Seeing those big dark eyes shine for him while smelling Sirius and feeling him everywhere would be too much for Remus to take, so he kept his gaze trained on a spot over Sirius's shoulder.

"What do you want to do today?" the beautiful man asked, his voice soft and low. Remus wanted to die.

Instead, he shrugged. "Dunno. Do you have anything in mind?"

"Well," Sirius said, dragging out the vowel, "I was thinking... We could go to the store?"

Remus was about to open his mouth to protest when Sirius continued, "Just for a little while. And when we get back, I want to do something with you."

That made Remus's eyes snap to Sirius's face, which looked so serious but excited. Remus narrowed his eyes, suspicious. What could Sirius want to do with him? He certainly had some ideas, but he doubted that this was what Sirius was talking about. It wasn't the trade that made Remus consider Sirius's request. It was the fact that this day had haunted Sirius for sixteen years, and Remus wanted to put an end to it. He wanted that whenever Sirus would look back on the ninth of May, he wouldn't remember seeing his brother's name in the newspaper next to the word "deceased," but instead the smell of the sun and the flowers.

"Fine," Remus sighed. "We need groceries anyway."

Sirius jumped up, a wide grin on his face, and Remus laughed. He slapped the back of Sirius's naked thigh and said, "Now be a good boy and get dressed. I'm not leaving the flat with you like this."

Sirius bit his lip as he looked down at Remus, then bent down so that their faces were close again. "Careful, Moony," he said, "or we'll spend our day in a way where I don't need clothes."

Remus's breath hitched. Here he was, trying to be a flirt, and then Sirius came and was so effortlessly seductive. It never failed to drive Remus mad. It was even worse when he didn't follow through. Sirius lightly touched his lips against Remus, soft as a feather, for just a second before smirking and hurrying off into his room. Even though Sirius would go outside as a dog, Remus didn't like thinking that in reality, his lover was out on the street in his underwear. The Marauders had perfected their Animagi so that they could keep their clothes when transforming so that they didn't keep ending up naked in the Forbidden Forest or in Hogwarts hallways.

It was a nice day today, and Padfoot was visibly excited to be outside under the clear blue sky. He couldn't contain himself and kept running ahead, sniffing flowers and grass and passers-by. Remus chuckled and did his best to keep up with the dog, ignoring the pain in his hip. How could he ever keep this man locked in the flat when he was so happy to be outside? It was a crime.

Padfoot reached the store first and hurried inside, Remus followed a few seconds later. He was a little out of breath and had to hiss at the dog twice to slow down. "Sirius, my old bones are going to collapse if you keep this up." But he could hardly be mad. He wondered how long it had been since Sirius had last stepped foot inside a grocery store. Padfoot didn't seem very concerned either. While Remus was working off his list of things they needed, the dog roamed around the store. Remus was lucky he was so well-behaved. He smirked to himself when he thought that he would have to call Sirius a good boy again later.

He found the dog patiently waiting in front of the liquor, excitedly wagging his tail. Remus frowned. "Alcohol?" he asked, pointing at the bottles. The dog barked in affirmation, and Remus crouched down next to him. "Sirius, do you want to drink?"

The dog barked again. Remus frowned as he got up, but he didn't ask any more. He figured Sirius would tell him what this was about as soon as they got home. Besides, it wasn't a crime for him to want to have a sip of alcohol. It wasn't unusual, either. Remus had just figured that since the little amount in his flat had run out, there had been no desire for more. He guessed he had been wrong. They did both enjoy having a glass of wine or a cold beer together in the evenings, but Padfoot was sitting in front of the harder stuff.

"Well, okay then," Remus mubled as if to himself in case someone overheard him. "What do I want, what do I want?"

He ran his hand along the shelf, and whenever Sirius saw something that he liked, Padfoot would bark. Remus ended up with four bottles, but he was sure that this would last them for a while. He couldn't wait to get back and crack open the whisky with Sirius, maybe put on some music, and snog. Sounded like a perfect day to him.

Chapter Text

Sirius enjoyed grocery shopping more than most other people. Since Sirius had moved in, Remus had been the one to do all the shopping, hurrying out and back home as fast as he could or having magic deliver things in bulk straight to the flat. Sirius couldn't remember the last time he had been in a British supermarket, just looking through the products, walking along the shelves, picking out whatever he liked. He missed making small talk with the cashier and fishing for money in his pockets. Though the store around the corner from Remus's flat was a rather small one, and although Sirius was disguised as a dog, he felt right at home. He hadn't realised just how much he had missed this until the sliding doors had opened for him with the telltale ding announcing new customers.

And yet, no matter how much Sirius loved being outside in the fresh air and amongst people again, he couldn't wait to get back home. He had been planning something, and he figured that today - the ninth of May - was the perfect day to reveal it. Even if today hadn't been... Even if today...

Sirius - Padfoot - shook his head. He would have revealed it to Remus either way. They were walking down the street, considerably slower than on their way to the store. Sirius assumed that Remus, too, was enjoying the time outside the flat. They had been cooped up in there for way too long. It wasn't good for them, and especially not for Sirius, who knew that had he stayed inside for just a few more days, he would have gone mental. Going down to the basement once every month was a welcome change of scenery, although that included watching the man he loved in agony.

Having hurried ahead before, Sirius now stayed close to Remus on their way back. He loved spending time with Remus. That was probably exactly why he hadn't yet gone mental in that flat. He's the best company I could wish for, Sirius thought. He wouldn't give this up for anything. And he really meant anything. He wouldn't trade Remus. Not for the world. Not for dreams and wishes. Remus was the reality, and he was all Sirius had known and wanted for as long as he could remember.

As they turned into Remus's street, the familiar buildings coming into view, Sirius noticed dark clouds ahead. He assumed that the rest of the day would bring rain, and he was glad that they had gone outside while the sun was still shining.

Padfoot's tail brushed against Remus's leg. The man didn't say anything. He hadn't said anything in a while, Sirius just noticed, but whenever he glanced up at the man, he seemed content. Sirius sometimes resented that they couldn't walk down the street together, eye to eye, holding hands. But he couldn't complain, really. Walking as a dog with Remus was better than not at all. The closer they got to their block of flats, the slower both Remus and Sirius walked. They didn't want to go back inside just yet.

Even though he hated acting like an actual dog even when he was in the form of one, Sirius couldn't resist jumping up and down and chasing his own tail as they stepped up to the front door. He only longed to make Remus smile, and it worked like a charm. They made it back to the flat, where Sirius transformed back, shaking himself and his hair. Remus hurried to the kitchen to drop off the bag, and Sirius felt a little guilty that he couldn't have helped him carry it.

Now that they were back, Sirius found himself getting nervous. He had prepared this for days, but it hadn't really sunk in what he was about to do. He could see, though, that Remus was anticipating something, too. When he turned around to Sirius, his eyes were sparkling, and there was this sly grin on his lips. Sirius stepped closer to him. He just couldn't stand being away from Remus for too long. Maybe that made him codependent, or maybe just head-over-heels in love. Remus's grin widened as he snaked his arms around Sirius's waist, and his cheeks reddened.

"You said you wanted to do something with me when we got back?" he reminded Sirius as if he could have ever forgotten.

Sirius laughed at the suggestive tone in Remus's voice. "Not that kid of something," he chuckled and kissed Remus on the tip of his nose. "But I like where your head's at."

Remus wrinkled his nose and slipped out of the embrace. "Alright, then. Surprise me," he said, turning around to reach for the bottles of alcohol. "Which one?"

With a grin, Sirius took the tequila off the countertop and led the way back into the living room. He told Remus to sit down, and Remus did while flicking his wand at the fireplace to ignite a cosy little fire. "I'll be right back," Sirius said.

"You're not going to do anything stupid, are you?" Remus called after him as Sirius hurried into his bedrom. "Sirius?"

Opening the top drawer of his desk, Sirius grinned to himself. Remus had no idea. When he reached the living room again, he only smirked and replied, "You know me, Moony. Would I ever do something stupid?"

Remus looked visibly panicked for a moment. "Oh, yes, you would. What are you planning?" Just then, his eyes fell on Sirius's hand. "What's this?"

Sirius sat down on the rug across from Remus, the coffee table between them, and put the stack of cards next to the bottle. He had worked on them day and night, perfecting the transfiguration of a simple piece of parchment into a playing card. Sirius hoped his plan would work and that this would help him trick himself. He hoped that this would make it easier for him and Remus both. All he wanted was to open up and to let Remus know. Because he deserved to know. And Sirius wanted him to.

"I made a game," Sirius announced, somewhere between proud and nervous, his heart fluttering madly in his chest.

Remus's eyes were about to fall out of his head. It looked so comical that Sirius had to hold back a laugh. "You made a what?"

"A game," he repeated, although he had no doubt that Remus had heard him the first time.

"Elaborate, please," Remus said.

Chuckling, Sirius nodded and touched the stack of cards again. "It's something like truth or dare. Only with cards. I made them myself." He stuck out his chest like a proud turkey.

Remus was still a little confused, his brow slightly furrowed. "Can I look at one?"

Sirius shrugged. "Sure." He let Remus examine the craftsmanship of the cards and filled two little glasses with the clear liquor. He conjured a bowl of limes and a glass of salt and settled in for a long day. Outside, the sky had quickly gotten darker, and Sirius supposed that they would have to turn on the lights soon. He had his back to the fireplace and was welcoming the warmth against it.

Remus had picked up the first card from the stack and read out loud, "Player takes a shot." He looked up at Sirius, one eyebrow raised sceptically. "What are the rules?"

"Like I said, it's a little like truth or dare," Sirius explained. "Only you have to do whatever the card says. Some cards have questions on them, and we have to answer them as truthfully as we can."

At this, Sirius could see understanding creeping into Remus's eyes, and he could tell that Remus was impressed. This was brilliant, after all. Sirius was forcing himself to open up under the fun pretence of playing a harmless game. And since he had written all the cards, he wouldn't have to say anything that he wasn't ready for.

Holding back his proud grin, Sirius continued, "We take turns picking the cards. The ones for me say my name on it and the ones for you yours. Got it?"

Remus was smiling now, and Sirius could have sworn he was tearing up. But Remus was brave when he nodded and said, "Of course, I got it. Let's go. You draw first. And no cheating," he added, pointing a threatening finger at Sirius.

Grinning, Sirius reached out to pick the first card. His hand was trembling, he realised, but he tried his best not to show it. If Remus knew how terrified Sirius was of this... He lifted the card off the stack and immediately let out a breath of relief. "All players drink," he read, then showed the card to Remus in case he didn't believe him.

They drank, then, doing what the card told them. For a moment, Sirius let the alcohol sit on his tongue before he swallowed and bit into the lime. He was glad that this was the first cards he had picked, although he had - purposely - sorted the cards from least to most intrusive questions so he would be able to drink himself a little more courage in the matter of the game.

Remus picked a card, looking almost as nervous as Sirius felt. As his eyes rushed over the words on the card, his lip twitched into a little smile. "This one is for you," he said and looked up at Sirius again. "What was the best day of your life?"

Sirius smiled, too. He remembered writing this card. He had made the exact same one for Remus as well. It was hard for him to pick a single day out of the very happy and eventful years he had had in his youth.

He could pick the day James and Lily had announced Lily's pregnancy to the Marauders. They had been gathered at their house in Godric's Hollow not long after the two had moved in. Crardboard boxes were still in the corner, filled with things they didn't yet have a space for. Lily was beaming when James told them, her smile lighting up the whole room and house. Hell, her smile could have lit up the entire world. Sirius had wanted to be the first to congratulate them, but it ended up being Remus, who wrapped the woman into his arms first. He had given her a squeeze, then apologised, not wanting to hurt the baby. Peter had given James a hug, but they were all a little distracted by Sirius, who had fallen to his knees and was crying uncontrollably.

"I'm going to be an uncle!" he had said, weeping.

James had knelt down next to him and wrapped his arm around Sirius's shoulders. "You're going to be an uncle, Snuffles," he had confirmed, making Sirius cry so hard that they all started to laugh.

Remus had peeled Sirius off the floor like he had done so many times before. "Don't be so dramatic, Sirius," he had said and shaken his head in amused disapproval.

Sirius was certain that this day was one of the happiest he had ever had. Even just remembering that day made him happy. Or he could pick the day baby Harry had finally entered this world, and Sirius got to hold him for the first time. He had been so small and innocent. No scar on his forehead. Just eyes as green as his mother's and hair as black as his father's. "He'll be handsome as hell," Sirius had said, grinning down at the sleeping bundle in his arms. Then he had smirked up at James and said, "Just not if he looks anything like you." James had laughed, and Lily had laughed, and Sirius had been proven wrong. Harry looked exactly like his father and was extremely handsome.

Or maybe a bit farther back when Sirius had still lived in Grimmauld Place. He had never been happy there. And yet that one day sneaked its way into his mind and settled down there like a heavy rock.

Instead, Sirius chose a day far more recent. It wasn't faded in his mind like the other days. Its memory was still shining bright and warm. "The day I met Harry," he finally replied. "Really met him. And I saw you again. That was the best day of my life."

Remus's expression softened. Sirius couldn't quite decipher the look in his eyes, but he found that it wasn't one he disliked. "Can I answer, too?" Remus asked, but Sirius shook his head and told him that his cards would come. "Alright, okay," Remus chuckled. "Pick one, then."

Sirius grinned and picked a card. He laughed. "What do you, Remus Lupin -" Remus's eyebrows twitched upward. "- like most about me, Sirius Black?"

"Oh, you're a git," Remus groaned, his face reddening in record-time.

Sirius chuckled. He must have written this one when he was feeling very insecure.

"I can't do it like this," Remus said and got to his feet. He walked over to the shelf, searched for a record, and put the needle to the vinyl. Only when Moondance started to play did he sit back down, crossing his legs, and sighed.

"What I like most about you, Sirius Black -" The name made Sirius blush as well. "- is how big your heart is. You're loyal. You're kind to a fault. You love so deeply that it makes people wonder what they've ever done to deserve a love like yours. You're funny. Hilarious, actually. You never fail to make people laugh. And you're beautiful. And I mean really bloody hot. Your smile... Your eyes. I love most about you the fact that you are no one else but yourself. No matter what that looks like."

When writing this card, Sirius surely hadn't expected an answer like this - an answer that could bring him to tears. Sirius swallowed thickly and looked away, giving Remus also a moment to collect himself. Van Morrison's voice filled the silence between them until their eyes met again. Sirius felt like his heart was going to burst.

"Thank you, Moony," he said shyly.

Remus nodded and wordlessly unscrewed the bottle. They licked salt off the backs of their hands, drank the alcohol, and bit into a second slice of lime. Sirius shuddered a little. He had never much liked the taste of tequila.

Without needing a reminder, Remus drew another card and immediately let out a loud laugh. "Sirius," he said, his eyes meeting Sirius's curious ones. "Kiss your favourite parts of me."

"That's not what it says!" Sirius protested. He couldn't remember having written such an outrageous card.

To his dismay, Remus only flipped the card around to let Sirius read it. He had hoped that he would get that card, but he wasn't at all complaining about kissing Remus. The two slid closer to each other, and Sirius could practically feel Remus's nervousness. Softly, he put his hand on Remus's chest and gave him a smile.

"Don't be scared, Moony," he whispered. "You do have to take off your jumper, though."

Remus's eyes widened, but he did as he was told without complaining. Is it the fire, or did it suddenly get hot in here? Sirius wondered. He had seen Remus without a shirt on plenty of evenings when they changed into their pyjamas. For the most part, Remus would keep his undershirt on, but now that it was getting warmer outside, he occasionally took even that off under his sleep shirt. This, however, was completely different from that. Sirius had never in fourteen years been this close to Remus's naked chest. And he was about to be even closer than he had ever been.

Suddenly, he wasn't so sure that he could do this. Did he really want his first intimate kiss to be during this stupid made-up game? They hadn't even yet gotten to what that game was supposed to be for. What if Remus was uncomfortable with this? He hadn't seemed like it when he had read the dare, but what if he was now? What if he was just as scared as Sirius was?

The doubts dissappeared in a split-second when Sirius felt Remus's hand in his hair at the back of his head. He had been staring at Remus's chest for too long, his lips just inches away. Finally, he leaned in and pressed a light kiss to the scar on Remus's sternum. He could hear and feel the little gasp Remus let out at the touch. Losing no time, Sirius moved on to the scar on Remus's left ribs, then the one on his right. As the grip in his hair tightened, Sirius got more confident, assured that Remus was enjoying himself. Sirius kissed the scar on Remus's collarbone and the one on his neck. He pressed a kiss on Remus's jaw and felt the other man melt beneath his lips.

Remus giggled, slightly withdrawing. "Sirius, stop," he said, but he was chuckling.

"Shh," Sirius replied, "I'm still playing."

Finally, he kissed Remus's lips. His heart was beating fast now; so fast that he could hear it in his ears. His face was hot, and when they separated again, Sirius took off his jumper and sat there in the T-shirt he had worn underneath. They were both panting as if they had done more than just kiss. Together, they drank another shot of tequila and avoided each other's eyes.

"It's your turn," Remus reminded Sirius.

"Right." He picked a new card and read it silently. Sirius's face fell. It's okay, he reminded himself. I wrote this. I knew this was going to happen. It's okay. Still, when he read the words out loud, his voice was shaking. "Okay. I'll tell you about the worst day of my life," Sirius said.

All the colour drained from Remus's face. This card wasn't designed as a question like the best day one because Remus already knew what the worst day in Sirius's life was. It was the same day as Remus's worst. And yet the two of them had never actually talked about that day. They both knew what had happened, and they both knew how horrible it had been. Yet they had never said it out loud. Never talked about their feelings. Sirius wanted to set that right; that was why he had written that card. He poured himself another glass and donwed it, shivering a little.

"Sirius -" Remus started, but he didn't go any further. He, too, knew that this had been Sirius's choice, and he knew that if Sirius backed out again now, he would never approach the topic again. So Remus took a shot as well and trained his eyes on Sirius, who was staring out of the window. It had started to rain.

"I was at home," Sirius started. He figured this was as good a place as any to start the story of the worst day of his life. "I wasn't even supposed to be in Godric's Hollow. I was supposed to be at home."

He remembered that day as if it were yesterday: the smell of his flat, the scratching of the vinyl that had long ended. He remembered the book he had sat down to read and the taste of the tea he had left out for too long. He remembered the rain outside his window - a soft drizzle like today.

"But it was Halloween, you know? We were always together on Halloween. I knew that something was wrong, but I convinced myself that it was plain paranoia. The plan was foolproof. Peter was the Secret-Keeper that no one knew about, so they were supposed to be safe." Sirius's voice broke. "I was supposed to have kept them safe!"

He held in his tears and carried on, still not looking at Remus. "I decided to visit them because it was Halloween and because I wanted to prove to myself that nothing was wrong. I just needed to know that they were okay!"

"But when you got there..." Remus breathed.

Sirius nodded. When he had gotten there, it had already been too late. The night had been quiet. The house had looked peaceful. Had there not been the signs of ruin and destruction. Sirius had heard the child crying even before stepping through the gate.

"I saw him!" Sirius finally broke, shouting the words he had kept inside for too many years. His eyes met Remus's, and the man opposite him blanched. "I saw James! And Lily! I saw them! You don't know how much something like that haunts you until it just... does."

Sirius knew that the sight of his best friend's - his brother's - lifeless body had shattered him. He knew that the memory would have driven him mad had he not shoved it back in order to protect it from the Dementors. He had looked at James for too long, hoping against hope that he would move. That he would laugh and say that it was nothing but a prank. He wasn't really dead, he was just messing with Sirius. He had hoped despite knowing that it was useless. James was dead. Lily was dead.

"But Harry," Sirius continued through tears. "Harry was still crying. He was in his crib, and he was crying. He was so small. And frightened. All alone. I didn't think about anything else when I lifted him out of that crib and held him in my arms."

Sirius had whispered to Harry that everything would be okay. Uncle Snuffles was there. No one would hurt him. He was safe. Mummy and Daddy were safe. Sirius had cried, biting his lip so hard that it bled so he wouldn't start sobbing and frightening the baby even more. His tears had dripped down onto the little boy, but neither of them minded. For a long time, Sirius had blamed himself for what had happened. He didn't think he had ever stopped blaming himself.

"Hagrid got there before the Ministry did. I knew I had to give Harry away. I knew he would be better off away from me. I gave him to Hagrid, and I told him to take my motorcycle. I wanted to go after Peter, but the Ministry was faster."

Remus didn't say anything for a while. The scratching of the vinyl sounded just like the one in Sirius's flat that night. The rain pelting against the window sounded the same. The only difference was the taste of tequila instead of too-bitter tea on Sirius's tongue.

And that he wasn't alone. That was different, too.

Chapter Text

Remus was speechless for a while. He was speechless in a good way, impressed and touched by Sirius's story and his initiative to tell it. Remus realised that it had taken Sirius days to prepare this; days in which he had barely left his room. It must have been a lot of work - but not just the craft itself. Working through his emotions and getting enough in touch with them to figure out what he was willing to talk about. After a confession like this, no words seemed to be enough. Sirius had spoken such heavy words, filled with memory and emotion, so anything Remus could say would sound cheap.

But it bothered him that while the emotional distance between the two men lessened, their physical distance remained the same. So, to change this and because he simply couldn't stand being this far away from Sirius while he was looking so broken, Remus crawled around the coffee table. Sirius glanced up from his hands that he was holding clasped together in his lap. Before he could say anything, Remus took his hands and put them on his hips while climbing onto Sirius's lap. Sirius quickly registered what was happening, and his hold on Remus immediately tightened. Remus wrapped his arms around the other man and buried his face in the crook of his neck.

They sat like this for a while. They didn't speak. They didn't cry. They just held each other, and Remus could feel something inside of him healing. The stitches on his heart were coming loose, and the wound beneath it seemed to be closing up. The fire was cracking in the fireplace, the orange light pushing back the grey day.

"Do you want to keep playing?" Sirius murmured against Remus, who leaned back a little so that they could look at each other.

"Do you?" he asked in return.

Sirius smiled and nodded. "Of course. I put a lot of effort into this."

Remus regarded him for a moment, his eyes rushing over every inch of Sirius's face. He seemed okay. A little deflated, maybe, but mostly okay. At least the smile on his lips seemed genuine. As if Sirius could feel Remus's worry, he smiled even wider, showing teeth, and pressed a kiss to Remus's llips.

"Come on," he said and squeezed Remus's buttocks.

Laughing, Remus slid back onto the rug and crawled back to his previous spot where he had left the pillow to sit on. The card that Remus picked told him to drink, so he drank, tilting his head into his neck and letting the liquid slide down his throat. Sirius was watching him with wide eyes that seemed to almost sparkle despite their dark colour. For a moment, Remus was confused at the expression, wondering what Sirius could be seeing. But then his own eyes found Sirius's mouth - delicate lips slightly parted - and Remus felt himself blush.

"Your turn," Remus quickly said before his thoughts could go any further. He didn't want to think about sex. Not now.

Sirius blinked and drew a card. He smiled before reading out loud, "What was the best day of your life?"

Remus smiled as well. He had wanted to give an answer to this question ever since Sirius had gotten it. "Well, since I can't pick the day I saw you or Harry again..." Remus started. He could just as well pick the day of James and Lily's wedding or the day they had visited her in the hospital after Harry was born. He could pick the day Sirius had shown up in front of his door just barely three months ago.

Sirius nodded in agreement. "Correct," he said. "That would be boring."

"Then I'm going to pick Halloween 1974."

Remus could see that Sirius was confused for a moment, but then the memory seemed to come back to him, and his face lit up. "The night of the greatest prank in Hogwarts history," he said.

"Exactly. I don't think any of the Slytherins could ever forget either," Remus grinned. "But for me, it wasn't even the prank that made this the best day of my life. It was the four of us sitting together in the common room, heads together, and whispering final details. The feast in the Great Hall: mashed potatoes and those little pumpkins that were enchanted to sing until you cut into them. We stuffed our faces with the food.
And afterwards, in the dark corridors, sitting under James's cloak for Merlin knew how long until the timing was right. Watching the chaos unfurl in the dungeons. Running back to Gryffindor Tower to meet up with Marlene and Mary, who were our alibis. And then McGonagall came to tell us what happened, and she asked the four of us to come with her."

Remus and Sirius smiled at that. The Marauders had always been her first suspects. Rightfully so.

"Laughing on the way back when she had to let us leave her office because she had no evidence and we had alibis," Remus continued, now misty-eyed. "Lily was angry, of course."

"Severus is down there!" Sirius mimicked her shrill voice, and for a moment, they forgot that they had forgotten what her voice had sounded like.

Remus nodded, laughing. At that point, Lily and Snape had still been friends. If the Slytherins hadn't been such a fantastic target to begin with, James's jealousy would have surely singled Snape out as the victim of their prank. Remus didn't know if their hatred for each other came before or after their jealousy.

"She was always so concerned for that git," Sirius said, shaking his head. "She didn't even stop to think that- That..."

His voice trailed off, but Remus knew what he wanted to say. Lily had been so worried for her stupid friend that she hadn't even stopped to think that Sirius's little brother had been down there, too. Of course, she couldn't have known that Sirius had made sure that he wasn't hurt. At that point, Sirius and his brother had still been friends.

Remus nodded once and went on to distract Sirius. "But she smiled, remember? When we got back from Minnie's and James let himself celebrate like a hero, she smiled at him."

That made Sirius laugh, his eyes crinkling. "Right, I completely forgot! We had to hear about that damn smile for weeks."

James had believed that their relationship was finally turning around. He had been wrong, of course. Their relationship hadn't turned around for a while after that. But Remus liked to think that this night might have been the starting point. Maybe that was when Lily realised that as long as James was around, she would never have a boring minute in her life.

"So yes," Remus said, "that was the best day of my life."

Sirius nodded, his face coated in admiration. "I'll be damned," he said and poured them another shot. "You might have beat me at my own game."

Laughing, Remus raised his glass and drank. As he set the glass back down, he looked at the remaining cards and noted, "We're not done yet."

He was having fun. Besides, it was barely after one o'clock - they still had the whole day. Remus thought that maybe they should take a break to eat something, though, if they wanted to continue drinking like this. He proposed this to Sirius, who agreed with a wide smile. He was having fun, too. So after a quick but filling lunch, they were back on the rug, waming themselves in front of the fireplace.

It was Remus's turn to pick a card, and he drew one that told him to name his top five favourite songs. He smiled at this. Sirius loved music. It had been his way of escaping. "This is impossible to do, Sirius!" Remus complained.

Sirius chuckled. "Come on, Moony. You must know five songs that you love."

"Well, obviously," Remus deadpanned. "But five favourite songs..." It only took him a single second to come up with the first one, though. "Starman, obviously."

The smile on Sirius's lips widened, but he didn't say anything and let Remus think. It was a harder task than it should have been. He wanted to do every song justice. He knew so many great ones, after all.

"Hm. Oh. God by John Lennon," Remus said.

Sirius frowned. "Is that the one where he says he doesn't believe in the Beatles?"

Remus smiled sympathetically. He could remember having listened to that song for the first time when he was ten years old, sitting in his parents' living room. His father had bought him the record because Remus had been horribly sad when the Beatles had split up, and it had helped a little to cheer him up. That song was still ingrained in Remus's brain even after all these years. No matter how sad he had been back then, he now felt that he could relate to John a little. "I don't believe in the Beatles. I just believe in me, Yoko and me, and that's reality." Remus only believed in Sirius, too. Sirius and him. And that was reality.

"What else?" Sirius asked, curious.

"Probably Somebody To Love," Remus answered. "And More Than A Feeling."

"Boston?" Sirius asked, although he very clearly knew that it was by Boston. He had been a huge fan of them, after all. Even so much that he had infected both James and Peter, and they had to listen to Peace of Mind every evening before bed.

Remus nodded. "Or Amanda," he added. "I can't decide."

He realised that every song he had picked so far had some connection to Sirius. At night, when Remus had felt alone, he would sit outside, smoke a cigarette, and listen to Starman on repeat, putting the needle back whenever the song ended. He would look up at the stars and find the brightest one, and tears would fill his eyes as he thought of his own Starman.

"Brothers In Arms," Remus continued. "By Dire Straits." Another song that reminded him of Sirius.

"Oh, yes, I heard that one," Sirius noted, looking behind himself at the collection of vinyls. He got up and brushed with his index finger along the records, looking for the D-section. When he found it, he pulled out the album and replaced the one they had listened to before.

Smiling, Remus watched him until he sat back down and poured another drink. They swayed with the music and continued the game. They drank - both water and tequila - and took their turns drawing cards. They laughed a lot, and Remus felt himself becoming lighter with every question they answered. It might have been the alcohol, he admitted.

As thunder clapped outside, Sirius drew a card that asked Remus to tell his favourite story from his trip through Britain. Remus smiled because he supposed that Sirius was really curious about this, but he was afraid that he would have to disappoint his friend. The trip was so long ago; he could barely remember anything. What kept coming back to him, though, was that one time when a woman from the group he had travelled with for a while climbed into his tent.

"She did what?" Sirius asked, almost jumping out of his seat.

Remus laughed. "Calm down," he said. "She was very drunk."

"And... and what happened?"

"Nothing happened, Padfoot," Remus assured him, chuckling. "She thought that was her tent, and when she realised that it wasn't, she started flirting with me. I sent her back to her tent, and she didn't remember anything in the morning."

Sirius snorted, but he didn't sound half as amused as he was trying to let on. Remus could do nothing but smile fondly at his idiot of a lover. They were nearing the last of the cards, but Remus didn't want to stop playing. Both of them were in T-shirts now, almost sweating in front of the fire. Without noticing, Remus had inched closer to Sirius - so much that he was barely even sitting on his pillow. There was a natural attraction between them, both emotionally as well as physically.

"Your turn," Sirius reminded Remus. He sounded weird, which made Remus frown. He was probably just imagining things. But Sirius shifted a little, sliding away from Remus. Was he nervous?

Remus picked his card, and it was the one Sirius had gotten before: "Remus. Tell the story of the worst day of your life." It took Remus a second to gather himself before reading it out loud. He hadn't realised that... He hadn't thought that Sirius would want to know. How was he supposed to start this? How was he supposed to let out his pain to Sirius, who had been there? But this wasn't just the day Remus had lost James and Lily. He had lost Sirius, too, and Peter.

"I got the letter right after it happened. Dumbledore made sure that I knew before anyone else," Remus said, his voice feeble. It had been cryptic and incomplete, with Dumbledore hurriedly scribbling down the most important details. "Of course, I thought that it was a very bad joke. James, Lily, and Peter, dead? You, a traitor? I couldn't- didn’t want to believe that in the matter of one night, I lost everyone that has ever been important to me."

Remus swallowed past the knot in his throat. His heart was hurting as if he was ripping open another stitch, but the wound was starting to bleed again. He had to be gentler. He knew that he would be okay if only he was gentler. Sirius crawled closer.

"I went to your flat," Remus said out loud for the first time. He had still been in his pyjamas. He hadn't even put on shoes.

Sirius might have already known it because his vinyls were here, but he had never asked. Now, he was looking at Remus with a hint of a smile. "You saved my albums for me," he breathed as if it was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done. Remus wasn't so sure that it wasn't.

"I couldn't let them have it," he said, shrugging. That was all he had to say to that. There was no bigger explanation than this: he couldn't let them take this part of Sirius from him, too.

"They told me there was nothing I could do," Remus continued. He found it increasingly hard to put these memories into words. "When I came to the Ministry, saying that they must have made a mistake. You couldn't have done this. There was no way."

Remus hadn't believed any of it at first. It couldn't have been Sirius, he kept saying, over and over. Not Sirius. Not the man he loved. Not Sirius. But the more he heard and the more details he received, the more he doubted himself. It made sense. All but the fact that it had been Sirius made sense. Remus hated himself for not having seen it sooner. He could have done something, he had thought. Even now, he was thinking the same thing only about Peter. How could he not have seen...?

"But they told me that the decision was made. I asked if you already had your trial and why I wasn't notified. 'There was no need for a trial,' they told me. Crouch told me."

They had locked Sirius up with no evidence. Nothing but the fact that he was at the scene of the crime. Never mind that he had been a broken shell when they arrived. Never mind that he had loved James like a brother. They had wanted a scapegoat, and they had taken the first convenient option. Sirius had been nothing more than a pawn in their game for power and peace. Voldemort had killed James and Lily, who had been betrayed by Sirius. Harry Potter had defeated Voldemort. The Ministry had defeated Sirius. That made them heroes.

"I cried that night," Remus admitted, a little ashamed. "I cried so hard that I threw up until there was nothing left inside of me. No tears, no food. Nothing. I was just empty. A week later, I packed my things, sold my flat, and went on the trip," he concluded quickly.

There was almost a smile on Sirius's lips, and his eyes were soft. He seemed just as glad that Remus had shared this memory with him as Remus had been before when Sirius had told him about that night. They were finally starting to heal. "And then you got flirted with by a stranger in your tent."

Remus snorted and rubbed his moist eyes. "Yes, and then that happened."

They took another shot before Sirius, hands noticeably shaking, picked the last card. Remus frowned. Without even reading it, Sirius let out a nervous huff of laughter. "Remus," he said, and Remus's eyes widened. "This card is for you."

Frowning, Remus took the card from between Sirius's fingers. When he flipped it over, his hand was shaking so much that he almost dropped the card. "Remus," it said. "Will you be my boyfriend? Officially?" Remus almost laughed, but he couldn't because tears were constricting his throat. He nodded. Then he looked up at Sirius, who was watching him anxiously, and nodded even harder.

Remus almost lunged at Sirius, taking him with him down to the rug where Remus ended up on top of him. He just barely registered Sirius laughing before he cut off the beautiful sound with a kiss. Remus thought that a grown man like him with hip issues like an eighty-year-old shouldn't be this happy about being asked to be someone's boyfriend, but he couldn't help it. He wasn't just someone's boyfriend, no. He was Sirius Orion Black's. His and his alone. And even more incredible: Sirius Orion Black was Remus's boyfriend. Remus! Who had thought all his life that he was undeserving to be loved by anyone, let alone Sirius.

Sirius seemed to be thinking the same because his hands on Remus were firm as if he couldn't believe that Remus wasn't about to pull away and walk off. To show him that he wouldn't do that ever, Remus threaded his hands in Sirius's hair, holding himself up on his forearms next to Sirius's head. It was an exhausting position, but Remus didn't have the heart to complain. All he could feel was Sirius, beneath him, kissing him. He could taste him, taste the tequila and the sweetness that was Sirius.

While Remus was convinced that he was rubbish at kissing, he felt that no one could be bad at it when they were doing it with Sirius. Because he was so incredibly good at it that it made Remus's head spin. The way Sirius's tongue stroked his. The way his body felt beneath him - warm and firm and not nearly as bony as when he had gotten here. The way his hair felt against Remus's fingers. The way his chest touched Remus's whenever they took a breath. The way he smelled - of Sirius and memories and pheromones. It was all too much for Remus and yet not enough. He couldn't stop. Not this time. And Sirius didn't ask him to.

Remus shifted his weight to one arm and reached down between them. Sirius froze for just a second. "Are you sure?" he whispered against Remus's lips, his eyes wide.

"You can tell me to stop, and I'll stop," Remus replied.

"No," Sirius said, his voice firm and certain. "Don't stop."

Chapter Text

Sirius had never expected to feel something as good as Remus so close to him. And yet when Remus's arm started to get tired and he let his body weight rest on top of him just a little, Sirius started to feel a slow panic crawling up his throat. The feeling of this weight against his chest was too familiar for his liking. It would crush him, he was certain. Remus would never crush him. But this weight...

The world seemed to tilt beneath Sirius as his brain lost connection to reality. When his throat closed up and he couldn't breathe, he caught a flash of a Dementor, sucking at his soul. This is it, he thought. I'm dying. This is what he must have felt like, James, when he had heard Voldemort coming. This is what he must have felt like. This fear.

Sirius was sweating, but he was cold and shivering. His hands were trembling as he reached out to steady himself, fingers gripping the back of Remus's shirt. Viciously, the Dementor kept sucking at him. Sirius could see it even with closed eyes - its ugly face beneath that black cloth, that hole through which it was trying to suck Sirius's soul. He could see nothing but that Dementor, or was it three? Ten? One hundred? He could hear nothing but the rattling breath of the creature. He could feel nothing but fear. Not even Remus.

Breathe, Sirius told himself. You have to open your mouth and breathe.

He gasped for air against Remus's lips.

Remus's hand stopped whatever it was doing down by Sirius's crotch that he couldn't even pay attention to, and he lifted himself off of Sirius. The relief came immediately, leaving Sirius heaving for breaths. Had minutes passed since he had last felt that warmth and smelled that sweetness, or had it been hours? Sirius couldn't tell. He registered first his own heart, trying to slow down again. It was still beating. I'm not dying.

His body went limp; exhausted and trembling. With every breath he took, the world came back into focus, and with it came Remus. There was worry in his beautiful eyes as he looked down at Sirius - a worry so overwhelming that it was hard to focus on anything else. Sirius took one last deep breath before mumbling, "Sorry."

Remus frowned, looking almost angry. "Don't say sorry," he said sternly, but then his voice softened. "What happened?" He carefully stroked the back of his finger across Sirius's cheek where a tear was drying that Sirius hadn't noticed.

The rhythm of Remus's finger against his skin helped Sirius to calm down. "Nothing, I was just -"

"Sirius," Remus interrupted him, his brow creasing with worry. "It's okay. Just tell me what's wrong."

It's okay, Sirius repeated the words back to himself in his head. "I couldn't breathe," he told Remus, feeling ridiculous. "I feel so... closed in." There was no other way to describe it. He felt like the room was too small. Like he was trying to breathe underwater.

Remus's brows lifted. "That's okay," he said gently. "We can fix that."

Without a warning, he rolled down to the rug and lay down on his back. Sirius couldn't help but smile appreciatively. They looked at each other for a second before Sirius climbed on top of his boyfriend, straddling him. Remus looked a little surprised as if this hadn't really been his intention. But Sirius didn't want to stop whatever they had been doing or been about to do. From up there, he felt like he was more in control. He could sit up if he wanted to, and he had all the space he needed if he ever needed it.

"That better?" Remus asked.

Nodding, Sirius leaned down to kiss him again. Much better. Remus was warm beneath him, a dream come to life. His hands travelled all over Sirius's back and across his shoulders until finally coming to a halt in his hair. Sirius lowered himself, inch by inch. He had Remus against his front, but his back was wide open. He wasn't closed in now. Sirius reminded himself of that fact as his chest touched against Remus's. There were still too many layers between them. Remus's undershirt, his T-shirt, and Sirius's T-shirt. Three layers. Remus's underpants, his joggers, Sirius's joggers, and his underpants. Four layers. They could do better than that, Sirius decided.

He reached down between them, mirroring Remus's position earlier. When his fingers found the outline of Remus's prick through the fabric, Remus gasped a little against Sirius's lips. The sound made his eyes fly open. Sirius had to see him. He's so hard, Sirius thought and suddenly felt the need to say it out loud. But could he? Could he say things like this to Remus of all people? He didn't want to do anything wrong. What if Remus didn't like this kind of talk? What if Sirius would embarrass himself? So he said nothing, only slipped his hand into Remus's joggers. One layer.

"Do it, please, Sirius," Remus whispered, the words barely leaving his lips before touching against Sirius's again. "Please."

Sirius didn't need to be told twice. His fingers slipped into his underpants and wrapped around Remus carefully, slowly. Not too firm. Not too loosely, either. Just enough so that when Sirius stroked up Remus's length only a single time, Remus tilted his head back until their lips were separated, and he let out a gasp, half-strangled. Sirius was watching him with wide eyes as if missing a single second of Remus's expressions was a crime.

He had been a little awkward at first, not really knowing how he should do this. He hadn't done this in a very long time, after all - even to himself. But with this sound, it all came back to Sirius in a flash. This wasn't the first time he had heard this gasp from Remus's lips as he was trying to keep himself quiet. Sirius had heard this many times at night in their dormitory, when Remus had thought that everyone else was asleep.

Why was Sirius pretending that he didn't know what to do? Why was he pretending that he hadn't fantasised about sneaking over to the other bed and replacing Remus's hand with his own? For years, Sirius had come up with different scenarios, uncountable at this point. He had forgotten all about them, he realised, until now. He knew exactly what to do.

Sirius shifted his position a little, putting more weight on his left arm, which was by Remus's head, the heel of his hand digging into the rug. This allowed him to move his right hand more freely, pumping up and down. While keeping his eyes fixed on Remus's face, Sirius removed his hand from his prick, which caused Remus to open his eyes. They looked confused and a little pained as if he were about to complain. But then Sirius lifted his hand to his mouth, holding eye contact with Remus, and licked the palm of his hand. Remus's eyes widened, and a violent flush coloured his cheeks instantly.

Using his spit as lubrication, Sirius reached back into Remus's underpants and continued. As his lips were still parted, a needy sound slipped past them before Remus was fast enough to catch it. He closed his eyes as his cheeks reddened even more. Sirius smiled. Godric, help me, I am in love with this man. The faster he moved his hand, the more he could watch Remus come undone beneath his fingertips. They were looking at each other, unable to tear their eyes away. Sirius needed to see him, needed to see what he was doing to him. He couldn't help it. He had dreamed of this moment for as long as he could remember, but no dream, no fantasy, had ever been quite like this.

"Sirius," Remus whispered, his eyebrows pulled together as he was trying to hold it in.

Sparks ran through Sirius's body, through his veins. He leaned down to press a feathery kiss to Remus's lips, then quickly came back up and whispered, "Let go, love. Let go."

Remus's eyes rolled back into his head, pleasure rolling over him and spilling over Sirius's hand. Remus's parted lips let out a sound like a sigh of relief, and Sirius wanted to live inside that sound forever. He wanted to build a house and have kids and grow old there until he died. Sirius's own prick longed for release, but he wouldn't give in. This wasn't about him. When the man beneath him stopped shivering, Sirius rolled off him and reached for the wand on the coffee table. He cleaned them both with a spell, then pressed a kiss to Remus's forehead.

"That was..." Remus said, but he was still too out of breath to form a full sentence.

Sirius laughed. "You were fantastic," he said.

When Remus turned his head to look at him, his eyes were wide and filled with tears. Sirius frowned. Those are happy tears, right? He didn't get the chance to ask out loud, though, whether Remus was okay, before the other man leaned in for another kiss. It was gentle, careful almost, as if Remus thought of Sirius as something to be cherished. Something valuable. It made Sirius choke up, too. Damn it, he thought.

"I love you," Remus whispered against Sirius's lips.

There was this weight settled on Sirius's heart. But there had always been a weight. This one, however, wasn't trying to drag him down. This weight felt like a heavy blanket; warm and comforting. It lifted whenever Remus said his name or things like these three words, in quiet moments when they were looking each other deeply in the eyes as if they could see through them to their very souls. With every whispered word and every glance, every laugh and every touch, the weight lifted, and Sirius's heart leapt.

This feeling was like home. But Sirius had never really had a place to call home. This one, however, wasn't a place. This home was a person, making every other corner of the world seem a little brighter. Sirius knew that as long as Remus was around, he would never be alone. He never wanted to live in a world where Remus didn't exist. I will die before he does, Sirius decided right then and there. He would die before Remus did so that he would never have to live without him. Preferably, though, he wanted both of them to die together, hand in hand, in a bed when they were eighty.

Because he didn't know how to put these feelings into words, Sirius looked Remus deep in the eye, a tear escaping his, and whispered back sincerely, "I love you too, Remus."

They stayed on the rug for a while, both lying on their backs and staring up at the ceiling, letting the fire warm them. Their fingers were entangled between them, and there was a smile on both of their faces. Sirius couldn't remember the last time he had felt so carefree. He got up every once in a while to flip the vinyl over or to put on a new one, and he sang to Remus sometimes. Remus laughed and told him to be quiet, but his cheeks were bright red, and his smile was wide.

Sirius didn't even know what time it was when they got up to eat something. When he stood, his head spun for a second, and he needed a moment to steady himself. Remus laughed, watching him. "Not used to tequila anymore, huh?" he teased.

Sirius looked up at him and grinned. "Was I ever?"

 
They went to bed that night, together, without either one even having to ask. Sirius climbed into Remus's bed, watched him put on his pyjamas, and lifted the blanket for him. Remus crawled next to him, his cold feet touching Sirius's. They were both lying on their sides; Remus with his back to the window so that he couldn't see the moon, and Sirius with his back to the door so that he could look out the window and see the freedom.

They were kissing, slow and gentle. It took Sirius a lot of effort not to go faster, not to flip Remus over, not to undress him. Sirius needed to practice self-restraint. It was still important to him to take it slow and to do it right. He needed Remus to know that he was special, not just to Sirius but to he world.

So when Remus's hand grabbed Sirius's butt, he smiled and moved the hand a little farther up. Even with his eyes closed, he knew the look of disapproval on Remus's face. Defiant as he was, Remus let his hand glide down again. Sirius chuckled against his lips and entertwined their fingers, which made Remus pull away from the kiss. He looked at Sirius for a moment, eyes searching for something, then leaned in again. Had he found what he had been looking for?

The air was knocked out of Sirius when Remus suddenly, with greater force than Sirius had thought possible, rolled both of them over so that Sirius was lying on his back and Remus was sitting on top of his hips. In a matter of seconds, Sirius was hard, his prick straining against the fabric of his underwear. His breathing quickened. Remus was pinning both of his wrists down, probably in order to stop Sirius from stopping him. Sirius looked up at him,  and in the faint light of the waning moon, he could see Remus smile.

He leaned down, slowly, his eyes rushing over Sirius's illuminated face. Remus most likely registered the accelerating heartbeat, the widening eyes, the quickeing breaths. He was still far enough away from Sirius when he whispered, "You're safe, Padfoot."

Sirius closed his eyes, focused on his breathing. He made himself aware of the fact that the weight against his wrists wasn't cold metal. It was warm and soft, and it would go away whenever he asked. There was no Dementor. There was only Remus, his beautiful face inches away from Sirius's, waiting to kiss him.

"You're in control," his boyfriend assured him.

Sirius could make this stop if he wanted to. Just one word, and Remus would get off him and release his wrists. One word, and Sirius would be free. He was safe here. This was just Remus, his boyfriend, the love of his life. He was in control. This was his choice. I'm safe.

Lifting his shoulders off the mattress, Sirius tried to kiss Remus, but he was still too far away. He could hear Remus chuckle before closing the distance between them and moving Sirius back down to the mattress. He was safe. Remus's lips were gentle, still careful, barely there. It was driving Sirius mad. He wanted more. Merlin, he needed more. A quiet whine escaped him, and he pressed his eyes shut. Self-restraint be damned.

Their kiss quickened - lips parting, tongues touching. Sirius arched his back beneath Remus, craving more contact, and Remus pressed down against him. Sirius was safe. Remus left open-mouthed kisses along Sirius's jawline and down his neck until he reached the collar of his sleep shirt. As he was moving down, the weight on Sirius's wrists lessened, and he used that opportunity to try to touch Remus. But as soon as he tried to wriggle himself free, Remus was back, pinning him down again.

"Be a good boy, and don't move," he said. "I want to try something."

Sirius's heart skipped a beat, and his eyes widened. Had he just heard that correctly? Had Remus just called him...? Sirius was certain that his brain must be short-circuiting. Still, he wanted to keep Remus going. He liked this version of him. So Sirius nodded, breathing hard. What was it that Remus wanted to try?

He seemed satisfied with Sirius's agreement and kissed him again, then pressed more kisses down his neck again, this time on the other side. Sirius closed his eyes and tilted his head back as Remus lightly nipped at the delicate skin at his neck. Then his hands on Sirius's wrists were gone, and his lips were gone, but just for a second before Remus tugged Sirius's shirt upwards a little. Sirius's eyes flew open, and he lifted his head to watch what the other man was doing. Remus was kissing his lower abdomen, where a soft shadow of black hair led the way down. Remus followed that way with his lips, and his tongue made contact with Sirius's skin.

Sirius had to grip onto his self-control even tighter when Remus tugged at the hem of his pyjama bottoms. Sirius lifted his butt off the mattress, allowing the man to pull the bottoms down. As Sirius's hard prick sprang free, Remus let out an audible gasp, warm air brushing against Sirius's nakedness. He tilted his head back. He couldn't watch, or he would burst. But not watching felt wrong, like he was about to witness a world wonder and deciding to simply look away. There wasn't even a beat of hesitation before Remus's tongue licked the top of Sirius's prick.

That was all it took for his gaze to snap back down so he could watch Remus opening his mouth and taking Sirius. First, just half of him before taking him back out again and licking up the length. But then Remus's eyes found Sirius's, and as if he was telling him, "watch me," he took all of Sirius without ever breaking eye contact. Oh, fuck. Sirius lifted his hands into Remus's hair, feeling the silky softness gliding through his fingers, but his boyfriend took his wrists again and pinned them down at his sides.

Sirius's eyes rolled back into his head as pleasure built inside of him. He wouldn't be able to last long. He was out of practice. And doing this with Remus... It was more than Sirius could take. He gasped for air, trying so hard to keep his moans to a minimum. "Remus," he gasped, "fuck, Remus, you should -" He wanted to tell him to stop. Remus should stop. He had never done this before, and Sirius didn't want to do anything that Remus might not like.

With one last bop of his head, Remus released Sirius from between his lips, but seamlessly continued with his hand. With a lot of effort, Sirius dragged his gaze back to Remus. His eyes were wide as he was watching Sirius nearing climax, and Sirius recognised the same fascination that he had felt earlier. It suddenly hit him that it wasn't just Sirius who had been wanting to do this for almost twenty years. Remus had dreamed of this at least as much as he had. That realisation finally pushed him over the edge, and he came, shuddering and groaning.

Remus stayed seated for a moment, his eyes never leaving Sirius's face even when he closed his own for a moment to take a breath, even though his hand was sticky and dirty. Remus didn't move. He was breathing as if he had just run a marathon, chest rising and falling in quick intervals. He licked his lips as if tasting the last remnants of Sirius. Sirius had twisted his neck to look for the wand on the bedside table, and when he looked back to find Remus still staring at him as if he was seeing him for the first time, he frowned.

"Are you okay?" he asked, absentmindedly whipping the wand to cast another cleaning spell.

"You're so beautiful," Remus breathed, not like a compliment, but a fact.

He sounded so sincere. His eyes were so honest. Something inside of Sirius broke. He choked down tears. When he was younger, he had been called many things. Hot. Cool. Obnoxious. Hot. Never in his life had he been called beautiful by anyone other than Remus. Never in his life had he been called beautiful like this, in a voice so full of wonder. It reminded him of when he had first gotten to this flat and taken a bath. Sirius hadn't believed Remus then. He had been too skinny, too dirty, too broken. But now, he was starting to see himself again like he used to. He was still skinny and still broken, but he was starting to believe Remus.

Sirius swallowed thickly as the words lingered between them. Remus's eyes softened, and he reached down to tug a strand of hair behind Sirius's ear. He lay down beside him, pulling the blanket to cover both of them because Sirius couldn't find it in him to hoist his pyjamas up. He was transfixed by the words Remus had given him.

Remus pushed himself up again to press a kiss to Sirius's lips, and they smiled at each other. "Go to sleep now," Remus said.

Sirius nodded and finally put his bottoms back on. He sighed and closed his eyes. "Hey, Moony?" he asked quietly.

"Hmm?" came from Remus, who sounded already half asleep.

Sirius turned his head to look at him. "The ninth is already over," he noted. Remus opened his eyes and smiled.

Chapter Text

"I think I'll grow out my moustache. Like Freddie."

Remus looked up from his newspaper at Sirius, who was entering the living room. He had just taken a shower, his long hair still damp, and smelled like lemons even from across the room. Remus snorted. "I think it would suit you," he replied. "You know, Freddie got a lot of bad comments for that moustache. A lot of people hated it."

Sirius sat down next to him, a frown creasing his face. "Why?" he asked, tilting his head to the side in this adorable way that reminded Remus of a little puppy. "It looks cool."

Remus shrugged. "Yes, it does. People said it looked too... gay."

"Oh."

Sirius's shoulders sagged, and Remus sighed. He put his hand on his boyfriend's knee and rubbed comforting circles with his thumb. They had grown up as children who knew that they were different in a world that didn't want them to be different. The halls of Hogwarts had been safe to some extent - there were all sorts of people thrown together, all just wanting to be happy. Among most wizards, gender was less important than magical status. Rather date a bloke than a Muggle.

Sirius's family had not been that. They would have killed him had they ever found out who he really was. Sirius's mother had always taken great pleasure in the discipline of her children, and she would have dragged his punishment out for as long as she felt necessary. Needing to survive, Sirius had not been allowed to be himself at home. He hadn't been allowed to "look gay." Anything he had seen David Bowie wear was out of the question. That was why music was his escape. He might not be able to look like David Bowie, but he could fill his room with his music. Sirius had defied his parents by bringing filthy Muggle technology into their sacred pureblood house. And he had enjoyed it.

Sirius had never kept his sexuality a secret at Hogwarts. Most of it had gotten chalked up to be rumours. "The Black brother? Gay? No, I slept with him two days ago." "I did last week. He didn't seem gay to me then." Only those who knew him well knew the truth. Though he hadn't kept his own sexuality a secret, he had kept those of others. Had he been with a boy who had not been so open himself, no one would ever hear his name out of Sirius's mouth. Only the Marauders knew because they knew the looks that Sirius would give someone he had slept with and the looks they would give him when they wanted to do it again.

Remus, too, knew what it was like to keep yourself contained in a box that suited others the best. He might not have gotten this abuse at home, yet he still had always been self-conscious walking down the street. What if - despite his best efforts - someone could tell? What if they knew he liked men, and they had a problem with that? Even though times had changed since his school years, it was still unacceptable for him and Sirius to walk hand-in-hand, let alone to kiss in public. Sit far apart and never whisper to each other. Never hold eye contact for too long. Never smile at each other for too long. Those were the rules for men.

It was an exhausting life to live, but it was what they had to do to get by. So what if they had to hide one more thing? Sirius and Remus weren't allowed to walk down the street together anyway. They had their home to be themselves at, and since they rarely ever left it, that was all they really needed.

"Well, I like it," Sirius said, squaring his shoulders.

Remus smiled at that. With every day, he could see Sirius's confidence coming back piece by piece. He wasn't so afraid of changing his shirts in front of Remus anymore since his ribs were less prominent than before. He would actually look at himself in the mirror whenever he passed it in the hallway or the bathroom, and Remus had caught him smiling at his reflection a handful of times. His self-assurance showed itself, too, in the fact that he was more confident in kissing Remus. With every day, the kisses became faster and hungrier, closer to what Remus had witnessed at Hogwarts.

And yet it was still different. When Remus had watched Sirius with someone else, there always seemed to be some sort of disconnect between Sirius and the other person. You could tell even from watching (at least Remus could because he had been obsessed) that it was purely physical for Sirius even if it wasn't for the other person. When they had moved in, he had moved back. When they put their hands in his hair, he had taken them out. He had set the tone. Either he was the one moving closer or no one was. It wasn't like that with Remus. Sirius seemed to crave Remus - physically and emotionally.

Despite that, they hadn't done more than kissing again. Once the dam holding their feelings in was completely broken down, they simply spent more time talking than doing other stuff. They stayed up until late, sitting cross-legged on the sofa or lying face-to-face in bed, reminiscing about the old days, about James and Lily and even Peter sometimes. Azkaban was still something they avoided talking about, and so was Sirius's family, but they were making progress day by day. However, late in the evening, when the two of them were cuddled up together on the sofa, drinking the rest of their tequila, an owl arrived.

Sirius pushed himself up and let the owl in, then took the letter off its leg. As he walked back to the sofa, his eyes rushed over the parchment, widening little by little. Once he was done reading, Sirius let out an incredulous laugh and sat back down next to Remus. "I can't believe this," he said, handing the letter to Remus without even looking at him while his other hand was already reaching for the bottle. "Has this boy learned nothing?"

Remus read the letter, too, and understood why Sirius was so upset. Harry knew how dangerous it was for him right now, and yet he had wandered into the Forbidden Forest at night with someone he didn't know. And what was that about Crouch? Speaking nonsense and then vanishing? Remus had a horrible feeling in his gut, and it only got worse when he saw the look on Sirius's face as he got up to get parchment and quill. It was now more evident than ever that Harry was in grave danger. They had suspected as much all year long ever since his name had very coincidentally come out of the Goblet of Fire, but now there was no doubt about it.

Sirius was scribbling away furiously, his brow furrowed, and his hand tightly clenched around the quill. Remus peeked over his shoulder at the letter he was composing and nodded along. Yes, Harry should give his word not to go wandering off again. Yes, he should be aware of the situation. And yes, she should definitely practice a few useful spells. It was a bit rich coming from Sirius Black of all people not to do anything stupid, but times had changed. Sirius wasn't a little kid anymore, running around Hogwarts with the Marauders Map, planning pranks. He was a godfather now, who was worried sick for his godson.

"He was in there with you, wasn't he?" Remus asked quietly as his eyes fell on Crouch's name on the letter. The muscles in Sirius's back went rigid, and the ink blotched on the parchment. "Barty," Remus clarified. He hadn't said that name in a very long time, and it felt weird now to use it.

Sirius turned around to him slowly. They hadn't talked about Azkaban in months since that one day Sirius had left the breakfast table. And speaking about Barty came awfully close to his Slytherin classmates. Remus realised he was holding his breath. Finally, Sirius nodded slowly. "Yes," he said, already turning back to his letter. "Yes, he was."

Remus watched as Sirius's rolled up the parchment. He knew that he should stop. He knew that Sirius very obviously didn't want to talk about this. Yet somehow, the words just kept coming, and he couldn't stop them no matter how much he wanted to. "Did you ever get to speak to him?"

Wordlessly, Sirius headed to the kitchen window where the owl was sitting on the kitchen counter, drinking water from a little bowl. Even with Sirius's back turned to him, Remus knew the look on his friend's face. He, too, wanted Remus to stop asking. In their relationship, there were clear boundaries and a clear way of doing things. Remus didn't pressure Sirius into anything, and Sirius did his best to open up on his own. Still, curiosity had taken the better of Remus, and now he couldn't stand not knowing.

"No," Sirius answered to Remus's surprise. He was still looking out of the window he had just let the owl out of, and if Remus focused very hard, he could see his reflection in the glass. Sirius looked sad. Everything about him looked sad; his eyes in the reflection, his lips, even his shoulders. "I didn't speak to him."

Remus frowned a little. "But you could have?"

There was a beat of a pause, of silence. Then, Sirius nodded. "Yes. I could have."

At that, Remus frowned even more. He could understand not wanting to talk to Barty after everything that had happened, but a year was a long time in a place like Azkaban. He had been right there, maybe even willing to give Sirius some answers to the questions that had been burning on his tongue. Why hadn't he taken the opportunity? Even just having someone from your past to talk to in a place like that must have been a huge relief; no matter how that person had turned out to be.

"His cell was close to mine," Sirius told Remus in a hushed voice as if speaking too loudly would intensify the memory. "I think they did that on purpose. To torture us, you know?"

Remus nodded. He could imagine that it hadn't been random. Sirius and Barty had had one very important person in common, and that reminder might have been enough to break their last piece and offer them up to the Dementors, raw and open.

"But he wasn't in good shape. I mean -" Sirius chuckled a little, "-I'm hardly one to talk. There wasn't much time for us. Maybe we would have talked if we had still been sane. But his health got worse and worse." Sirius shrugged as he finally turned around to Remus. "Until he died."

To hear Sirius's voice so empty knocked the breath out of Remus. He couldn't imagine what that must have been like for Sirius to have that person from your past come into the place you had thought you would never see your past again. To have this hope that one day, you might find a way to talk. And then to have that person taken away again after one year while you had to stay for another eleven.

Back then, Remus had followed the trials in the newspaper. Daily, there had been new reports on arrests and trials. The one that had stuck with Remus the most was the trial of Barty Crouch and the three Lestranges. Remus didn't ask Sirius about his cousin. He knew that that would be too much. Still, he wondered whether Sirius had known then what Barty had done and why he was imprisoned. Had he known that Bellatrix was there, too? Had he ever wondered where she was and how she was doing? Why hadn't they put her close to him? Why Barty?

They were silent for a while, Sirius still leaning against the kitchen counter, his eyes glazed over and somewhere far away. Remus didn't ask. He felt that he had asked enough for today.

Remus would have hoped that they didn't have to come back to this topic again, but a few days later, while they were having dinner together, another owl arrived. "It's from Harry," Sirius said with a worried crease between his brows.

Immediately, Remus stiffened. Letters from Harry these days weren't good news. He watched curiously as Sirius opened the letter, and his eyes rushed over the words on the parchment. Remus wanted to get up to read, too, but Sirius already spoke before he could move.

"It's Barty," he said, finally tearing his eyes away from the letter to look at Remus, who frowned.

Was this a joke? They had just recently been talking about him, and now they get a letter from Harry about him? How does Harry know him anyway? Remus was confused, so he asked Sirius to elaborate.

"Harry had a dream about him," he explained. "And then he saw his trial in Dumbledore's Pensieve." Sirius continued to read Harry's letter out loud to Remus, telling him all about the dream and the Pansieve and what Dumbledore had told Harry  about Voldemort getting stronger.

He had been right: letters from Harry really weren't good news at all. "Do you reckon he's going to make his move in the last task?" Remus asked.

Sirius sighed and shrugged, then put the letter aside onto the countertop. "I don't know. It would be convenient, wouldn't it?"

Remus nodded. "I guess so," he muttered. "He won't get a much better opportunity than that."

"Mhm. I only wish we knew how..." Sirius sighed again. "Or who."

After a long silence, Remus got to his feet. It took a moment before Sirius's eyes focused on him again. By then, Remus was already right in front of him and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. Instantly, he could feel Sirius relaxing and melting into the embrace. With a smile, Remus pressed a kiss to the other man's forehead.

"You're so small," he whispered, grinning because he knew the effect this would have on Sirius.

As predicted, he shoved Remus from him and glared up at him. The way his head was tilted back into his neck was only proving Remus's point, but he didn't get to comment because Sirius was already arguing, "I am not small. I'm a grown man! Take it back right now."

Remus smirked and pushed out his chest in order to tower over Sirius even more. "Or what?" he asked, his voice low and mocking.

For just the tiniest fraction of a second, Sirius faltered, surprised at the tone of Remus's voice. But he gathered himself quickly, owing to years and years of practice in being the most annoying version of himself. As he raised his posture, his chest almost touched Remus's, who became very aware of the proximity. His heartbeat accelerated as his senses were filled with Sirius. Remus could feel that the full moon was coming up by the way the hairs at the back of his neck stood up when their noses almost touched and the way his nostrils flared at the smell of Sirius's freshly showered skin and hair.

"Don't forget that I'm a dangerous mass murderer," Sirius said. There was a glint in his eye that Remus couldn't quite place. "I have no issue with bending you over until you snap in half."

There was a spike in Remus's heartbeat, and heat rushed to his cheeks, then to the rest of his body. He leaned closer so that their noses finally touched and smirked. "Bending me over sounds good," he whispered.

Sirius's eyes widened before he stepped back and let out a huff of a laugh. Embarrassed, he rubbed the back of his neck. "Don't say that!"

Remus grinned and tilted his head, trying to look as innocent as he could. "Say what?" he teased, then bit his lower lip.

Again, Sirius's eyes flared, and he chuckled nervously. "That. Don't- Don't do that."

It suddenly occurred to Remus that Sirius was flustered. Sirius! Flustered!  Remus's grin widened at the realisation. Although Sirius was certainly right - he was a grown man and had matured significantly since they had been separated - there were moments like right now where his juvenile nature shone through those thick layers of trauma and anxiety. Remus suspected that it was impossible for them not to fall back into their old habits when they were around each other. They had been ripped out of their normal life, and once they had met again, it was as if they had simply been put back like figurines on a chess board.

Over the next few days, Remus did his very best in every situation to make Sirius blush and stutter like that again. He pushed himself past him too closely when they were together in the bahtroom or in the kitchen; he held eye contact for longer than necessary until he could see in Sirius's eyes that his thoughts were slipping away from him; and he said things like "I'm so thirsty" or "it's so hard" in completely innocent tones. Every time, without fail, Sirius would choke and widen his eyes before acting all nonchalant.

He was determined to distract Sirius with lewd comments until the third task would be over and Harry would be safe. And if that led to more than just a few comments, Remus would be far from complaining.

Chapter Text

Remus shut his book with a sigh, making Sirius look up at him. He was bored. Remus hadn't been bored in a long time, but today was the day. The air in the flat was thick and warm, and both Remus and Sirius had reduced their clothing to T-shirts and shorts. The weather was beautiful, the sun shining brightly in the sky. It was a perfect day to be outside and to bathe in the sun or take a little stroll down Diagon Alley. Many people did - Remus could hear them laughing down on the street when they passed his building to get to the little park across the street. Life was moving on outside their window while Sirius and Remus were trapped in this little flat.

Although the mixture of information coming from Dumbledore, Harry, and the Daily Prophet kept them well in the loop of things, Sirius and Remus couldn't help but feel horribly useless. There was nothing they could do, of course. Even if they were at Hogwarts, too, they couldn't help. Still, it was hard to have to sit and watch from afar. Sirius had been hellbent on going back to the cave a week ago, but he had changed his mind. "Can't help him, can I?" he had said and sunk into the cushions. Instead, he resorted to sending daily owls to his godson, reminding him to stay focused on the last task ahead, which was now only a week away. All parties involved couldn't wait for this to be over.

"Let's do something," Remus said to Sirius, who raised his eyebrows.

"Do what?" he asked.

Remus shrugged. "Dunno. You must have some idea, come on, don't let me down. I'm bored, Sirius! I don't think I can handle it much longer."

With a laugh, Sirius got to his feet. Remus's eyes lit up. He knew he could always count on Sirius for a fun time. With wide, curious eyes, Remus watched as Sirius crossed the living room and bent down to select a record. He pulled one out, put the needle to it, and Brown Sugar started playing. Remus laughed as the other man started tapping his foot with the rhythm of the music. Then his hips joined, and then he was dancing through the room.

He threw the windows open, and immediately, a breeze of fresh air ruffled through Remus's hair. He got up as well and joined Sirius by the window, where he took a deep breath. He could smell the flowers that were blooming in the park and the gardens and the unmistakable scent of summer. Remus's eyes fell shut for a moment, and when he opened them again, he found Sirius watching him. Remus blushed and looked away, watching the trees sway with the wind.

"Let's bake pizza," Sirius suggested.

When Remus turned to look at him again, he was grinning. "Alright?" he said, a little surprised at the sudden proposition. Had Sirius been waiting for a moment where he could suggest this?

Sirius's grin widened, and he took Remus's hand, leading him to the kitchen. For a moment, Remus only stood leaning against the counter and watched Sirius with a smile on his face. Months ago, Sirius hadn't been comfortable looking through the kitchen for food or utensils. Yet here he was, confidently pulling out flour and bowls as if he had lived here all his life. He wasn't so skinny anymore, either. When he lifted the pack of flour to the countertop, Remus thanked the short sleeves for letting him see Sirius's bulging biceps. Granted, it wasn't nearly as big as it had been in his youth when he had done nothing but run around and play Quidditch, but it was more than enough to make Remus's mouth water. He was sure that if he were close to a full moon, this sight would have been enough to drive him mad. But even now, Remus would have liked to drop to his knees. He imagined Sirius leaning back, gripping the countertop behind him, tilting his head back, and moaning. Remus would like to hear him moan.

"Are you going to help, or are you just going to stare?"

Sirius's voice pulled Remus out of his reverie, and he snapped back to reality. With it came the embarrassing realisation that Remus's shorts were a bit tight. He cursed himself in his head, then quickly turned away before Sirius could catch a glimpse of either his blush or his bulge. It was no use, of course, because Sirius Black was nothing if not a nosy bugger. Of course, he had already noticed even before having said anything. So he stepped closer to Remus and wrapped his arms around him from behind. One hand rested on Remus's chest while he let the other one slide down until it was pressed flat against Remus's erection. It took all the strength Remus possessed not to groan against the pressure.

"What were you thinking about?" Sirius whispered into his ear. He was so close that his breath tickled Remus's neck, and he could feel the heat emanating from him.

"Nothing," Remus said quickly. He could have used this perfect opportunity to tease Sirius and to make him just as hard as he himself was, but Remus decided against it. He couldn't do it. He didn't have the courage to admit this out loud. For weeks, he had been trying to convince himself that the things they had done that night had been an exception, a one-time thing, so he wouldn't want anything more.

All that pretending hadn't helped, and it also wasn't helping that he could see the desire in Sirius's eyes, too. It didn't help that they were stuck in this flat together with the only escape being Remus's short trips to the store. It didn't help that the weather had gotten warmer and their clothes had gotten shorter. It didn't help that Sirius had put on weight again and looked like his old self. He even had some of the glow back - on his skin, in his eyes, in his smile. Sirius was glowing again, and it wasn't helping Remus's case at all.

"Well, if it's nothing," Sirius said with an audible smile in his voice, "then would you mind helping me knead the dough?"

Only when Remus nodded his agreement did Sirius press a kiss behind his ear and release him. Remus took a relieved breath as if he had just survived a deadly challenge. He shifted his shorts a little, then helped Sirius out with the dough as requested. While the dough was resting, Sirius asked Remus to read him something.

"Read to you?" Remus repeated, even more surprised about this than about baking pizza.

But the other man only nodded and handed Remus the book he was currently reading. Before Remus could ask again, Sirius was settling down by the open window and looking up at Remus with big expectant eyes. Sighing, Remus joined him and opened the book. The Rolling Stones were still playing in the background, and the wind coming through the window was a bit chilly against Remus's bare arms, but his boyfriend looked so happy, so he couldn't even care about anything else.

For a whole hour, they stayed by the window, Remus reading out loud about the man who brought the ring to the mountain. The music had ended long ago, and the flat was silent except for Remus's voice and the sounds of summer coming from outside. Every time Remus glanced up, he found Sirius hanging at his lips, curiously swallowing up every word that Remus transported from the page to his lips. When they reached the forest of Lady Galadriel, they were both hungry and glad that the dough was ready. Remus closed The Lord of the Rings and pushed himself up with a grunt. Sirius was grinning stupidly as he danced back to the record player and put on Queen.

He wiggled his eyebrows at Remus, who laughed and followed him to the kitchen. "What do you want to have on top?" Sirius asked.

"You."

The word just slipped past Remus's lips before he could stop it, but he didn't regret it one bit when Sirius's eyes widened and he choked and coughed. "Excuse me, Mister. I meant on top of your pizza."

Remus laughed, leaned closer until they were almost nose-to-nose, and whispered, "I know what you meant." He watched with great satisfaction how Sirius's cheeks reddened and his eyes grew even wider. "I think I'll go with peperoni."

He turned away to the fridge and pulled out all the ingredients one could put on top of a pizza. After a moment to gather himself, Sirius helped assemble the pizza. They were silent for a while, softly dancing with the music. Remus didn't want to admit it, but he enjoyed mundane things like these. He liked preparing meals with Sirius, swaying through the kitchen and singing along, as if they were a normal couple in a normal world. No impending doom, no bad news in the paper, no godson in danger. They would just be happy. And in moments like these, they were.

"Remus," Sirius said after a while, when they were sitting on the kitchen floor in front of the oven and watching their pizzas bubble in the heat. Remus turned his head, but Sirius wasn't looking at him. "Is that what you would want?"

There was no need to specify. Remus knew what he was asking. "I was just joking," he said. "It just slipped out."

Now, Sirius returned his gaze. He was smiling, but just a little, as if this was uncomfortable for him to talk about. Remus assumed that it was. Sirius had always been confident and loud about his sex life, but he had said himself that this was different. This was Remus. "I know. I was just wondering..."

Remus nodded. It was only fair of Sirius to wonder. "I don't know," he finally answered and looked back into the oven so Sirius wouldn't see his embarrassment. "You know that I don't know."

Sirius wasn't a virgin by any standards. He had done it this way and that, been bottom and top, done it with girls and blokes. Remus, on the other hand, had gotten a blowjob from the Ravenclaw prefect in sixth year - a pretty brunette with small breasts. He had been feeling sorry for himself because Sirius had gone on a date. Remus had explained it to her afterwards and apologized. She had been fine with it, saying that she was only bored and had wanted to do that with him for a while. After that, Remus had tried to sleep with a girl from Hufflepuff who was a year older than him, but he couldn't do it. Then he had tried to sleep with a boy from Gryffindor, but it had felt horribly wrong for his first not to be Sirius. And then he had stopped trying.

"You'll figure it out," Sirius said after a moment. "You'll know."

Remus sighed. He felt like he was too old to be having conversations like these. At his age, you weren't supposed to figure it out. He should know by now. He should have done all the figuring out already. Had he missed out on some crucial part of youth that he hadn't even known was essential? Should he have shagged every willing person at Hogwarts until it felt right? He couldn't imagine that that was how it was supposed to go. But he thought he wasn't supposed to have waited for that one person all his life, either. Though he was sure this was terribly romantic. But maybe Sirius thought this wasn't romantic at all. Maybe he thought it was pathetic. Maybe this was why they hadn't done it yet - because Sirius didn't feel like teaching his grown boyfriend the ways of sex.

"You're worrying again," Sirius pointed out. He slid closer to Remus and put his arm around him. "Stop doing that."

"I can't help it." Remus shrugged.

Sirius kissed him on the cheek, firmly, almost forcefully, as if he was trying to press his love into Remus. Then he got to his feet and helped Remus to his. "I think the pizza is done, don't you?"

When they sat down to eat, Remus noticed that the air had gotten colder. He closed the window and looked at the time. He hadn't even realised that the time was passing so quickly, and it was already almost evening. The sun would be going down in an hour or two, and then nighttime would start. The end of another day. Sleepless in Seattle was on the television, which made Sirius happy because he had been wanting to watch a romantic movie for a while. Remus joined him on the sofa, and together, they ate their hot pizzas, sharing pieces and wiping each other's mouths with a tissue when they had tomato sauce somewhere.

Sirius cried at the end of the movie, and Remus laughed and held him in his arms. "This was a stupid movie," Sirius said and angrily wiped his tears.

Remus laughed, kissed him on the nose, and said, "It's okay. I cried, too, the first time I saw it." Besides, he was glad that Sirius felt comfortable enough to show his emotions like this. It had been a very long time in the making.

The sky outside had gotten dark, but Remus wasn't tired yet. He had completely forgotten that he had been bored before, and now, he didn't want this day to end. For a while, they just sat huddled together, talking, until Sirius asked to hear another chapter. Remus pretended to be reluctant at first, but only because he liked to hear Sirius beg a little. He gave in quickly, though, and reached for the book. Sirius settled down between Remus's legs, leaning back against his chest. Remus put his arms around his boyfriend, opened the book, and started to read. He was so unimaginably happy.

"But wait," Sirius said when Remus finished the chapter and closed the book. He turned a little so that he could look up at Remus with big eyes. "Wait, what about Boromir? Can't you read just one more chapter?"

Remus chuckled. "Just one more?"

Sirius nodded earnestly. "Yes. Just one, I promise."

So Remus read another chapter. Even after that, Sirius wasn't entirely satisfied, but he moved out of Remus's embrace nonetheless, leaving Remus with a sudden emptiness without the warm weight against his chest. He glanced at the clock and was surprised to find that it was already later than he had expected. The movie and the two chapters had truly taken up a lot of time. He looked at Sirius, who had his head turned to the window. Remus wondered for a second whether Sirius was looking at the stars again.

He was about to ask when the other man said, "Get dressed."

Remus frowned. "Excuse me?" He didn't understand what Sirius meant. Remus wasn't naked, after all. He surely didn't want Remus to get dressed for outside? Where would he be going at this hour anyway?

Sirius turned around to look at him, and Remus could see the set lines in his face. Sirius was being serious. "Dressed," he repeated, looking Remus up and down. "Trousers, shoes, jacket. All that."

"Why?"

Sirius sighed and got to his feet. "Don't ask questions. Just do it."

For a moment, Remus watched Sirius heading to his room. What was all this about? Following Sirius's orders, though, Remus kept his questions to himself and went into his own room. When they met in the hallway, they were both dressed for outdoors. Remus frowned again as he saw the shoes on his boyfriend's feet. "You're going out, too?" he asked.

Sirius laughed. "Of course. I'm not sending you out on your own. Who do you think I am?"

"No, but..." Remus pointed Sirius up and down. "You are going out? As you?"

This was beyond stupid, and he didn't think that he even had to say just how much. But Sirius nodded his head yes, and Remus doubted whether it was obvious just how insane this idea was. Anyone could see him, recognise him, and report him to the Ministry. This was too dangerous. Remus had half a mind to take his shoes back off and insist on staying home. But then his eyes fell on a bag he hadn't noticed, slung over Sirius's shoulder, and he got curious.

"Don't worry," Sirius said. "I promise no one's going to see me."

"How? You don't have an Invisibility Cloak anymore, do you?" Remus reminded him.

Shaking his head, Sirius pulled out his wand. "No, but I'm still a wizard. I have an invisibility spell." He flashed a wide grin, showing all of his teeth.

It was no use arguing with Sirius Black when he had made up his mind, so Remus just sighed and nodded. Maybe he should have been more insistent. Maybe he shouldn't have let Sirius outside that easily. But he was weak when it came to the love of his life. What was he supposed to do?

Chapter Text

Where they Apparrated to was an old chapel on a hill just outside of Barnet. Sirius had found it sometime in his teens on one of his walks to escape his family. He used to walk a lot, and very far. After turning seventeen, he didn't have to walk anymore, as he could legally Apparate anywhere he liked. Still, he had enjoyed the feeling of walking, getting that burning sensation in your legs after a few hours, and kicking your shoes off to let your swollen feet breathe. The chapel had been empty for a long time, and it was so remote that no one ever came to look for it. Now, Sirius was sad to see, the roof had caved in, and the wooden walls were starting to rot. A few more years, and the chapel would fall to the ground and waste away. A few more years after that, and no one would even remember that there had ever been a chapel to begin with. Sirius tried not to think too hard about the fact that someday, he, too, would be like that chapel. Gone. Forgotten.

In the darkness, it was hardly necessary for him to have used the invisibility spell, but he had done it to ease Remus's mind. They were standing with their backs to the chapel, looking out across the endless lights in the distance. There was a slight breeze, but Sirius wasn't cold. He could still feel the warmth of Remus against his back. The two men were silent for a moment, Sirius watching his boyfriend, who was taking in the unfamiliar place. Sirius had seen this place plenty of times before, but this look on Remus's face... that, he hadn't seen quite so often.

"Do you like it?"

His voice made Remus jump, and he cursed under his breath, then lit his wand. "Merlin, Sirius! You scared me!"

Sirius laughed. "I'm sorry. I didn't think you had forgotten that I'm here."

"Don't be ridiculous," Remus said flatly. The light of his wand illuminated his face, but his eyes were searching for Sirius, who was invisible, just as Remus had demanded. "Take that stupid spell off. No one's here."

With another laugh, Sirius did as he was told. "I told you no one would see me," he reminded Remus, who rolled his eyes and nodded.

"Yes, yes, whatever." He looked around again, now at the chapel, which Sirius didn't want to look at anymore. "What is this place?" he asked.

"I used to come here when I wanted to get away," Sirius told him.

"Away from what?"

He knew that Remus knew exactly what he was talking about. Sirius also knew that Remus wanted to hear him say it. His family. His mother. Instead, he said, "Everything." Because that was true, too. And because he couldn't speak about them out loud.

Understanding, Remus nodded wordlessly and turned back around to look at the view. "It's beautiful," he breathed, and he sounded like he meant it. He sounded like when he said the same thing about Sirius. Genuine.

Sirius cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the thoughts crossing his mind. "This isn't why I brought you here, though," he said with a sly grin.

Remus was frowning as Sirius took the bag off his shoulder. Before revealing the surprise, he told Remus to take a seat. The other man looked around in the darkness for what Sirius had meant and then sat down on the stone bench that Sirius remembered being there. Durning midday, the bench would be in the perfect shade of the big oak tree above it. There were initials carved into the trunk of the tree, several of them, all in pairs. Sirius imagined them being from couples who had gotten married here. He imagined SOB+RJL to be somewhere amongst them.

Once Remus was seated, his wand was too far away, and the light too faint for Sirius to see. Despite that, he didn't light his own wand. He figured that the darkness was the perfect cover to keep the surprise going for just a little longer. Instead, he used his wand to create some sparks and rushed backwards to get to Remus. They sat close together, almost on top of each other, and Sirius held his breath. Out of the corner of his eye, he kept glancing at the other man, waiting for the big reaction.

After a few seconds of breathless silence, the sparks ascended, Remus and Sirius tilting their heads back to follow them up to the sky. Then the firework erupted, red and golden sparks showering down before a lion roared in the sky. Remus's eyes were wide, and when Sirius looked over at him, he could see the firework reflected in them. One after the other, fireworks lit up the sky in colours. Stars were raining down on them, silver and gold and green. Remus took Sirius's hand, and his heart skipped a beat. They looked at each other, and Remus's face lit up in purple, and he was far more beautiful than any firework Sirius had ever seen in his life.

As they looked at each other, time seemed to slow down. Sirius could have sworn they had been sitting on this stone bench for hours already, glowing in different colours as the fireworks went off above them. Remus's eyes were big and sparkling, with fireworks and tears of joy. Sirius cupped his boyfriend's cheek and leaned in. As they were kissing, the last firework went off, but Sirius could barely hear it. Nothing existed apart from him and Remus, apart from the warmth surrounding him and the taste against his lips.

"Thank you," Remus whispered against Sirius's lips, their foreheads resting against each other.

Sirius leaned back so he could look at the other man more clearly. Now, the only source of light was Remus's wand between them, casting a silvery glow over his features. "For what?" Sirius asked. He didn't think Remus needed to thank him for anything.

And yet, the man smiled and said, "For everything."

Sirius's heart jumped, and he looked away, embarrassed. "You sodding romantic," he said and got to his feet. With his wand, he built a fire and warmed the grass around it, so it wouldn't be cold and damp when they lay down on it.

From behind him, Sirius could hear Remus laugh. He was next to him in an instant, looking at the bonfire. "I'm the romantic?" he teased.

Laughing, Sirius shoved Remus a little and sat down. Together, they lay down on their backs and looked up at the clear night sky. Sirius quickly found the star which had given him his name. It wasn't hard to find since it was shining brighter than all the others. When he had been young, Sirius had bragged about his star, which he had said was shining just as brightly as he himself was. Now, he felt like his star must be very lonely all the way up there in the cold, dark sky. As always, Sirius's eyes slipped across the constellations until he found the Leo constellation and its brightest star. Sirius kept staring at that star, the one which had given his brother his name. He could find his whole family up there if he wanted to, but he didn't. He only ever looked for his brother.

Remus must have noticed Sirius looking, but he didn't say anything, and Sirius was eternally grateful. He didn't think he could handle speaking about this. So instead, Remus said quietly so as not to startle him, "It's so peaceful up here."

Sirius turned his head to the side, looking from the stars to the brightest thing in his universe. Remus came in many different colours tonight. Now, it was a faint orange, the warm tone of the fire caressing his cheeks. Sirius smiled and nodded. He would like to kiss Remus. He had been wanting to do nothing else all day. In fact, he had been wanting to do so much more since that one night, but that was a fool's dream. Still, Sirius couldn't stop thinking about it. It wasn't lust that kept driving that thought to the front of his mind. Sirius knew lust. He had done stupid things out of lust, like that bloke from Hufflepuff in sixth year.

But this, this wasn't that. This was love. Sirius wanted to have sex with Remus not because he was craving his body, longing for skin contact. He wanted to have sex with Remus because he wanted to be united with him, closer to him than ever before. He wanted to make him feel good. He wanted to make him happy in every way possible. Sirius wanted to give Remus everything because he deserved everything.

"I love you," Sirius whispered.

For a second, Remus's eyebrows rose, like he was surprised at what he was hearing. Then, his face softened, and he parted his lips. "I lo-"

A spell just barely missed Sirius's head. He froze as all of his senses perked up. He could smell the scorched grass, the unmistakable tinge of magic. He could hear the grass rustling close by. He could hear clothing rubbing together like someone waving their arm, and he knew that the next spell was going to hit its target.

Without thinking, Sirius rolled Remus to his back, then jumped up in front of him to block him from any curses that could be aimed at him. The bonfire illuminated a circle around them, but everything beyond that was pitch black. Even Sirius's good eyes couldn't see their attacker. Until the stranger stepped out of the shadows into the firelight. Remus was on his feet now, too, with his wand at the ready. Sirius frowned. He didn't know the man, had never seen him before in his life. What was he doing here?

"Well, well," the stranger said, obviously very happy at what he had found. "Look who we have here. Sirius Black. You're supposed to be dead."

Sirius bared his teeth in an attempt at a grin. "Sorry to disappoint."

The man laughed, cold and hard, and then his face went blank. "You really shouldn't light fireworks when you're a wanted man. They make you easy to find."

Sirius's spine went rigid. Was this man with the Ministry? He didn't look like an official, but he could just be trying to blend in. His robes were dirty, like he hadn't taken them off in weeks, and his hair hung down the sides of his face, matted and greasy. He was about Sirius's age, or maybe older, but not by much. If he wasn't with the Ministry, then Sirius didn't know who else he could be. Why would any other wizard go through the trouble of wanting to find him if he was a notorious mass murderer who was the first person ever to have broken out of the wizarding high-security prison? Unless... Sirius thought.

"You being alive and free is a threat to the Dark Lord's plans," the man said.

There it is. Sirius didn't wait for the stranger to say anything else. He fired curses at him; whichever he could think of. Remus was here, and Sirius had to keep him safe. It was his fault that Remus was here. But he wasn't the little boy he had once been. The stranger turned out to be a rather good sorcerer, and he was quick to block Sirius's spells and cast some back. Remus, however, managed to hit him several times. The fire stayed between them as they circled it, dancing around it to try to gain some distance.

Quickly, the man realised that Sirius was blocking his spells in order to keep them as far away from Remus as possible. That made him shift his focus of attack on Remus, who held his ground. Sirius was proud of him. He had always been a good fighter, but watching him now felt like watching a dancer. He was waving his arms, flicking his wand. Red and blue curses lit up the air and his face, illuminating the snarl on his lips. He was dangerous, deadly, and beautiful.

Together, the two of them kept attacking, weakening the stranger as much as they could. Sirius could feel what twelve years in a cell had done to him: he was getting tired. He was out of breath faster than he should, and he could feel a sting in his lungs. His ears were ringing from excitement and from exhaustion. And then he got hit by a Disarming Charm. In the split-second in which Sirius was surprised, another spell grazed him just slightly but left a throbbing pain in his side. Sirius was gritting his teeth. He didn't need a wand. He would punch that man in the face if he needed to.

Remus was faster, though. "Stupefy!" he shouted, and silence returned as the stranger landed flat on the ground.

In one quick motion, Sirius picked up his wand and marched around the fire to where the man was lying, eyes closed. He could just as well be asleep. "No, Sirius, wait!" Remus held his arm, which was already outstretched and pointing his wand at their attacker. "Wait. He's under the Imperius Curse."

Sirius didn't need to question Remus. He twisted his wand and said, "Obliviate."

Taking Remus's hand, he Disapparated without another word. As soon as they were home with both feet on solid ground in the hallway, Sirius started to laugh. His heart was beating so fast that he could hear the blood rushing through his ears. His side was aching as he laughed, but he didn't care. Remus glared at him, his expression a mixture of confusion and annoyance.

"Stop laughing," he snapped and shoved Sirius backwards with both hands against his chest. "He could have gotten us killed!"

Sirius took a step forward again, big enough so that he was in Remus's space, so close to him that he could smell him. "Not a chance," he grinned. "You were fantastic."

They were both still breathing heavily, fired up from the adrenaline of the fight. Sirius was grinning widely. He could feel laughter bubbling up inside of him again, wanting to burst out of him like a firework. Remus, on the other hand, was scowling. He looked angry and frightened and, above all, annoyed with Sirius's unreasonably good mood. The tension between them grew as their heartbeats fought to slow down.

If you put two magnets together, they will snap into place, drawn together by an invisible but undeniable force. They pull each other with an energy that can't be ignored; effortlessly. Their connection is unshakeable, unyielding, even if you try to pull them apart. No matter how far two magnets are separated, the pull remains; a quiet reminder that they belong together. Two magnets are like two people in love.

Sirius and Remus were two magnets. Their lips crashed together like they couldn't bear being apart for a second longer, like the connection was in their very nature. They were kissing each other, fast and sloppy, like they were gasping for breath. Sirius could feel Remus tugging at his hair. He, in turn, was holding the back of Remus's neck with one hand, pulling him impossibly closer. They were like two starving men, gorging themselves on a buffet.

Slow down, Sirius screamed at himself in his head through a haze of adrenaline. He had to slow down. So, abruptly, he pulled away but didn't step backwards. He kept holding onto Remus like his life depended on it. Just because they had to slow down didn't mean that he wanted them to stop. He wanted anything but.

"Are you sure?" he asked because he didn't want Remus to act in the heat of the moment when he might not be thinking clearly. Besides, he wanted Remus to know that Sirius wasn't, either. He was thinking clearly.

Remus's eyes were big and sincere as he moved his head to nod. "Yes," he whispered, his voice certain. "Yes, please."

Nothing else needed to be said. Slowly, Sirius closed the space between them again. He took off Remus's jacket, one sleeve after the other, and then his own. Remus kicked his shoes off, and Sirius did the same. Together, still kissing, they stumbled into Remus's room. Sirius kicked the door shut with his foot and wordlessly lit up his wand. As soon as they heard the door close, Remus sped up the kiss, grabbing Sirius's hips and pulling him closer so that their bodies were pressed together.

"Slowly," Sirius whispered. "Slowly, Remus."

The other man took a breath and nodded. Sirius smiled, took half a step back, and regarded his boyfriend: his hair was dishevelled, his jumper untucked, and his lips puffy. He looked undoubtedly kissed. He was the most gorgeous person Sirius had ever seen. Sirius put his wand aside, letting the silvery light brighten up the room a little more. He looked Remus deep in the eyes as he tucked at the hem of his jumper and pulled it over Remus's head. He wasn't wearing anything underneath, so when Sirius let the maroon fabric fall to the floor, Remus was shirtless before him. He had seen Remus shirtless plenty of times. Millions, probably. And yet, he had never seen him like this, right after what they had done and right before doing what they were going to do.

His body was riddled with scars, which were shining silver in the light of the wand. Remus was a slim man, but he wasn't skinny. The muscles in his stomach were toned, and so were his arms. He had a lovely figure, and Sirius wondered if he could be able to pick Remus up. He looked rather light, but after all, Sirius wasn't as strong as he had once been. His body wasn't toned anymore. All the shape he had to him now was the angles of his bones.

Remus stepped closer, then reached his hands for Sirius's sweatshirt. His fingertips softly grazed Sirius's skin, leaving a trail of hot sparks up the sides of his torso. He lifted his arms so that Remus could take off his sweatshirt and slipped his head through the hole. Sirius dropped the black fabric on the floor as well and let Remus look at him for a second. Usually, he would have felt self-conscious to have his new body scrutinised like this, but his boyfriend's eyes didn't show any hint of disgust or unhappiness. On the contrary, Remus looked like he was about to drool. Sirius grinned.

"Moony, you're staring," he said, his voice light and teasing.

Remus's eyes snapped up to his, lingering on his smile for a second. Then he grinned, too, and shrugged. "I have every right to."

Sirius could feel himself blushing, and it got even worse when Remus opened the button on his trousers. Sirius was certain that he was going to faint. Willing himself to stay on his feet, though, he watched as Remus's fingers opened the zipper. Sirius's mouth went dry, like he was thristy for more than just water. Remus dropped his trousers, stepped out of them, and pulled Sirius towards him by his belt. They kissed again, slower this time, like steadying breaths, like a calm heartbeat. Sirius stepped out of his own trousers and guided Remus to the bed.

They sat down at first, on the edge, Sirius's hand caressing the other man's bare thigh. Remus's hands were on his back, his arms wrapped around him like a snake, and they were kissing, magnets unable to pull apart. Sirius pressed light kisses along Remus's jaw, and the man giggled, a sound which lit Sirius on fire from the inside.

"How do you want to do this?" Sirius whispered. This was a thing they would have to discuss before they could go any further. Sirius knew what he was doing. Remus did not.

Remus was looking at him with big eyes filled with uncertainty. He looked scared, and that broke Sirius's heart. He didn't want Remus to be scared. Not ever, and especially not in moments like these. It wasn't a bad thing that he didn't know how to do this. Sirius was willing to show him, to teach him. He thought there was barely anything more romantic than the fact that Remus hadn't been willing to do this with anyone other than him. Remus should be more confident. After all, he had every right to be. He was beautiful. He was smart and funny and kind. He was everything Sirius had ever wanted.

"I -" Remus swallowed. "I don't know."

This didn't discourage Sirius one bit. He had known that Remus would say this, and he was okay with that. He gave his boyfriend a comforting kiss and smiled. "That's alright," he whispered and kissed him again. "Then I'll go first. I've done it before, so it won't hurt."

Remus nodded, hard, and blushed. "Tell me what to do, okay?"

Grinning, Sirius nodded. "Of course."

He could feel that Remus was still nervous, so Sirius decided to take it slow. Carefully, he shifted his position so that he could take off Remus's underpants. The other man's eyes were wide, even though they were still kissing. And then they were not, and Sirius got up from the bed to kneel between Remus's legs as he pulled the underpants all the way off until they dropped to the floor. His mouth, which had been so dry before, started to water as his brain caught up with what was about to happen next. Sirius hadn't done this in a long time, but he figured it was like riding a bike. You never really forget how to ride a bike. Neither how to ride a-

He stopped his thoughts by wrapping his lips around Remus's tip, and his brain went silent. Slowly, Sirius took him deeper and deeper. Remus was better equipped than he had expected from feeling with his hand alone. Like riding a bike, Sirius thought to himself, satisfied, as he could hear Remus gasping, satisfied as well. He opened his eyes and looked up at him, watching how he tilted his head back, his lips parted. Faster than he wanted to, Sirius stopped and left a trail of open kisses up Remus's stomach.

Sirius took off his own underpants and then held his boyfriend in his arm as he lay down on his back, pulling the other man on top of him. He had to remind himself to stay calm as he was trapped by Remus's weight for a moment. He couldn't afford to lose his head now; he had to keep it together for Remus's sake. The length of their bodies was pressed flush against each other, and Sirius could feel everything. He could feel where his ribs poked against Remus's, where their entangled legs touched, where their pricks twitched against each other. He could feel it all, and he almost didn't want to let go.

But then Remus moved, causing friction, and Sirius was reminded of how out of practice he was. Besides, neither he nor his prick could believe their luck that he was finally going to get to do this with the love of his life. No sex had ever felt as good as it should have because Sirius had always known that it wasn't with the person  he really wanted it to be with. Now, it was. Now, he was finally here with the man he had been in love with for as long as he could remember.

"Protection," Remus said suddenly. "Sirius, we need protection."

Sirius smiled. He knew that Remus was thinking of Freddie Mercury, and that was a valid point. Protection was important. "Remus, we're wizards," he replied, though, almost grinning, but he didn't. It was only natural for Remus to assume. "We don't need condoms. Unless it would make you feel safer...?"

Almost immediately, Remus shook his head, and Sirius couldn't hold his grin back anymore. Remus slid farther down a little, his eyes on Sirius, almost like a question - as if he was asking if he was doing it right. Sirius smiled at that and nodded in a wordless answer to the unspoken question. Remus nodded back as if to encourage himself. Beneath him, Sirius opened his legs. Remus stroked himself once, twice, and then lined his tip up with Sirius's entrance. He was slow and careful, like he was still not sure. It occurred to Sirius that he wasn't. Remus was just going on feeling here because he had no frame of reference. He was only guessing, feeling around in the dark. Despite that, he was doing a good job so far. Sirius couldn't wait to see what Remus was capable of when he was a little more experienced and confident.

"You're doing good," he whispered.

Remus's eyes snapped up to his, then back down to his prick in his hand. Sirius could feel him against him, and then, overly eager, Remus pushed. Sirius widened his legs and gasped, his hands clenching around the bedsheets. Remus froze, and Sirius blurted out a laugh.

"Fuck, Moony, slow down," he whispered, but kindly, still smiling.

"I'm sorry," Remus replied, his voice shaky.

"No, don't be." Sirius shook his head and took a deep breath. Remus was halfway in already, so he might as well... "Keep going. But slowly," he added.

Remus nodded, understanding, and kept going. With every inch he entered Sirius, his eyes rolled back into his head. Sirius watched him with a strange kind of fascination. He had never seen someone look so beautiful. When Remus was fully inside him, he propped himself up on his hands and groaned, his lips close to Sirius's ear. Sirius was sure that he could finish from this sound alone. He held Remus still by his hips for a moment, then their eyes met, and Sirius nodded again. He kissed Remus, fiercely, and whispered, "Go on, baby."

That was all it took for Remus to start moving. They never took their eyes away from each other, watching what they were doing to each other. Sirius couldn't hold it in very long, and he bit his lip to stop himself from making any sounds. Remus quickly realised and leaned down to kiss Sirius, forcing him to part his lips, and a moan ripped itself free from Sirius against Remus's lips. His eyes rolled back into his head, and Remus released him. Together, they were panting and gasping, and Sirius could feel himself getting closer.

There was an electrifying rush of touch - skin against skin, warmth spreading. Every single one of Sirius's nerves was heightened and alive. Pleasure was pulsing through him in waves, growing stronger with every moment. He felt so vulnerable, completely at the mercy of Remus, but powerful all at once. The connection between them was raw, exposed, and unbreakable. Nothing existed but Remus and his eyes and his warmth and the feeling of him inside Sirius. He ran his hands up and down Remus's back, wanting to get as much of him as possible.

Sirius felt like he was dancing. Him and Remus, they were dancing together, their bodies moving in a rhythm determined by the beating of their hearts. Their feet were moving, their arms were swinging, they were twirling and jumping and laughing. There was wind in his hair and a smile on his lips. Sirius felt like he was dancing. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to close his eyes and look up at the sky. He was dancing, and he never wanted it to stop.

As they looked at each other, Sirius felt too much. There were too many pent-up emotions begging to be released. He was so deeply in love with this man. It was like the imaginary equation on the oak tree by the chapel: Sirius plus Remus equals heart. The two of them, together, combined, were making love. They were creating a moment, an experience, which was indescribable. Sirius was filled with love and happiness and sadness and anger and euphoria and frustration. He never wanted to lose him. He never wanted anything to happen to him. He loved him. He wanted him. He couldn't live without him.

Sirius wanted to say all of this, but it was too much. It was too real, too honest. When he opened his mouth, tears clogged his throat. "Remus," he gasped.

Remus's eyes softened, and he cradled Sirius's face with one hand while he continued to push into him. "I know," he whispered back, nodding. "I know."

A whole different kind of firework lit up inside of Sirius as they came, together, groaning and panting and shuddering. And then Sirius laughed, and Remus glared at him again. His cheeks were bright red, and drops of sweat were glistening on his forehead. He was shining, and then he was grinning, too.

"You're good at this," Sirius said, grinning, teasing.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Shut up."

Chapter Text

Remus rolled to his back, then pinched his eyes shut as the sun fell into his face through the crack in the curtains. He turned his head away and opened his eyes. Before him was a sight that was so breathtaking it could have been a drawing on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel: Sirius was lying on his back with his head turned toward Remus, and he was naked, only covered from the waist down with the thin blanket. His black hair was falling in soft tendrils around his face, spilling over the white pillowcase like tar. From the morning heat, his cheeks had gotten a faint pink blush. His eyes were closed as he was still asleep, long black eyelashes fluttering when he took a deep breath. His right hand was resting on his stomach, rising and falling with every breath he took, while his left hand seemed to be reaching for Remus.

Remus sighed happily and propped his head up on his elbow. Carefully, with slightly trembling fingers, he reached out to touch the piece of art lying next to him, wanting to make sure that this was real and not just a dream. Remus's fingertips lightly brushed over the tattoo on Sirius's chest. His skin was so soft and warm, and Remus dreamed of kissing it, feeling it against his lips. He let his fingers slide from one tattoo to the next and could feel Sirius twitching awake. The man made a sleepy sound just as Remus let his fingers glide down the runes to his bellybutton. He kept his eyes fixed on Sirius's face, but before his fingers could reach the point where naked skin met blanket, Sirius grabbed his wrist.

He was smiling now, though his eyes were still closed. "Don't be naughty, Remus," he said, his voice still hoarse from sleep. When he opened his eyes, they were immediately on Remus and had this mischievous glint in them.

"Good morning," Remus only said innocently, smiling down at his boyfriend.

Sirius's lips stretched into a grin. "Good morning," he replied. He intertwined his fingers with Remus's and pulled his hand up to press a kiss to the back of it, making Remus blush. "I don't have any more tattoos down there, you know?" Sirius teased, clearly having caught on to what Remus had been doing.

This made Remus blush even harder, and he looked away, but Sirius released his hand and instead hooked his index finger beneath Remus's chin to turn his head so that he would look at him again. Sirius liked to see Remus blush; he had found that out a long time ago. Sirius had always revelled in the reactions he could pull from people - giggles and blushes and scrambling for words - but he had never seemed so enamoured with anything as much as with Remus's reactions. He enjoyed knowing what an effect he had on Remus, who couldn't even be mad at him for it. After all, Remus, too, enjoyed teasing Sirius whenever he could manage.

"Come here," Sirius rasped, his eyes on Remus's lips.

Without hesitation, Remus leaned down to kiss him. Sirius's mouth was warm, and he still tasted faintly of toothbrush and the last of their Firewhisky that they had drunken last night. Remus climbed on top of him, straddling him, and the blanket slipped off their bodies. The morning was warm enough so that neither of them shivered after suddenly being exposed to the air, which also still smelled of Firewhisky and sex. Staying true to his imagination, Remus removed his lips from Sirius's and pressed an open kiss to the tattoo on his chest. He kissed the ones on either side, then made his way down the runes to the bellybutton, tasting the dried sweat with his tongue.

As expected and yet still a pleasant surprise, Sirius was hard before Remus even reached the lowest tattoo. He forced back a smirk as he kissed the last bit of ink and crawled even farther down. Sirius took a deep breath through his nose, and Remus wrapped his hand around him. He was just about ready to taste him there, too, when Sirius carefully put his hand in Remus's hair.

"I'm sorry, Moony," he muttered, obviously ashamed. "Not today."

Understanding, Remus nodded and crawled back up to him, lying down next to him. Today was the day of Harry's last task. The two men had spent the past week exploring each other's bodies with great pleasure, which had dealt as a good distraction. Besides, after they were done, Sirius would be so exhausted that he fell right asleep and barely woke up at night. Today, however, they couldn't ignore the real world any longer. The Triwizard Tournament was a real threat again, and Harry was in real danger. There was no more distracting from that.

"Go take a shower," Remus said and sat up. "I'll make breakfast."

Usually, Sirius would ask him every time whether he would like to join him in the shower. It had obviously been a joke each time, and Remus had said no each time because they both knew that he just wasn't ready for that. They hadn't done it anywhere else than in his bed - not even in Sirius's, which had been unoccupied for almost a whole month straight. It wasn't even really Sirius's room anymore, as most of his clothes were in Remus's closet now, too, because he kept taking them off in Remus's room and never putting them back into his own.

Today, however, Remus could tell how serious the situation was when his boyfriend nodded with a tense smile, kissed him on the mouth, and left the room without a joke or even any word at all. For a moment, Remus sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the door through which Sirius had just left. Today was going to be a hard day for both of them. Finally, Remus pushed himself up with a sigh and headed to the living room. His joints were still rather stiff from the full moon two days ago, and a particularly nasty cut on his inner thigh was starting to hurt again. No matter how good magic was, it was less useful against magical injuries, and since a werewolf was a magical creature, there was barely anything Remus could do against the cuts his own claws were leaving all over his body.

When Sirius entered the kitchen, though, Remus stood up straight and pretended that nothing hurt. He didn't need Sirius worrying about him now, too. He had done that enough for the past few days. Remus had been exceptionally testy around this month's full moon - undoubtedly because of the tension concerning Harry building more and more. Twice, he had snapped at Sirius so much that the other man had left the room. The weather today was nice. It was almost ironic, Remus thought, because he and Sirius both could feel that something was wrong. A storm was brewing in the metaphorical sense, and the clear sky seemed horribly out of place.

The two men didn't talk much during breakfast, and after, Remus took a shower while Sirius cleared off the dishes. Remus stood under the running tap for a while, his eyes closed. He was leaning against the wall, letting the water land on his chest, and started contemplating. He had always been a big fan of that, and he found himself doing it even more often these days. Would Lord Voldemort make his move today? Sirius, Remus, and even Dumbledore were almost certain. Dumbledore had written to them after the incident at the chapel, but instead of the scolding they had expected, he had only said that he didn't currently possess the capacity to worry about the two of them as well as Harry. "You are grown men and skilled wizards," he had written. "But be careful."

Needless to say, neither Remus nor Sirius had left the flat at all after that. They had ordered food per owl delivery and spent their time either on the sofa or in bed. Remus had finished reading the second book of the Lord of the Rings trilogy to Sirius, who was sitting ready with the third book when Remus came back from his shower. He smiled, rubbed his hair with a towel once more for good measure, and settled down next to Sirius. The man took Remus's arm and put it around his shoulders, melting against Remus's side in an instant. Looking down at his boyfriend, Remus smiled a little. Sirius opened the book, and Remus started to read.

The story helped little to distract them, and a few chapters later, Sirius was on his feet, pacing up and down the living room. He was rambling, had been for the past fifteen minutes, and didn't seem like he would stop anytime soon. He threw around himself with curse words, directing them at Voldemort, at Igor Karkaroff, and even at Cornelius Fudge. When he was through all of the English swear words he knew, Sirius seamlessly switched over to French, which made Remus perk up. He hadn't heard Sirius speak French in... it must have been sixteen years. Maybe even more. He didn't say anything, though, and tried to keep his face as neutral as possible because the angry man didn't even seem to have noticed his change in language.

After a while, Sirius rounded to Remus, glared at him, and said, "Well?"

Remus was at a loss. He knew better than to tell Sirius to calm down, but he couldn't possibly indulge in these crazy ideas of his. "Back to the cave?" he asked, repeating the last sentence Sirius had said.

Convinced that this was the only right course of action, Sirius nodded firmly. "Yes," he said.

"And then what?" Remus asked carefully. He didn't want to make Sirius think that he didn't believe in him. Remus fully understood where this desire of going to the cave came from. He, too, wanted to do something to help.

For a second, Sirius seemed to falter, but then he straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin. He looked just as defiant as Remus remembered him. No one could tell Sirius what to do when he was like this. "And then we help Harry," he replied. "We stop Voldemort."

Remus pressed his lips into a thin line to hold back a sigh. "He won't be coming to the school," he said softly, like speaking to a rabid dog. "Dumbledore is there. He won't let anything happen to Harry, Sirius, you know that."

"Something already happened to Harry!" Sirius retorted angrily. "He was entered in this deadly tournament! Don't you care?"

"Of course, I care!" Remus frowned at Sirius. He could understand his anger and frustration, but it was no use letting it out on each other. How could Sirius even ask such a thing? He knew that Remus cared. "You told him in your last letter, too, that he's safe with Dumbledore."

"Of course, I told him that!" Sirius retorted. "I'd say anything to get him to focus on getting through the tournament. Besides, this isn't Harry's responsibility."

"Nor is it yours," Remus argued. "We can't help, Sirius. You would only put yourself in danger. And you don't want Harry to see something happening to you, do you?"

Sirius was still on his feet, glaring down at Remus, but he seemed to have calmed down a little when he shook his head and shrugged. "So, what? Are you saying we should just sit here and do nothing?"

Now, it was Remus's turn to get up. Smiling softly, he put his hand on Sirius's waist and tugged at it a little so that they were standing closer together. "No," he replied and shook his head. "What I'm saying is that we should wait here until we know what's happening. I'm sure that Dumbledore will have a plan for us. But for now, we have to stay here and make sure that Harry has somewhere safe to get back to. He needs you, Padfoot. And I won't let you walk into a group of ministry officials. That won't do anyone any good."

Finally, Sirius sighed in defeat and let himself be dragged back down to the sofa. Remus wrapped his arms around him protectively, wishing his embrace could keep the bad world away from Sirius. Remus wanted to get them all under his wing and keep them safe, but it wasn't that easy. It was never that easy. He stroked Sirius's hair for a while, absentmindedly running his hands through the smooth black mass while thinking about what Sirius had said. Were they just rolling over and playing dead while letting the fourteen year old boy deal with everything on his own, or were they doing the right thing like Remus was pretending? He wasn't sure anymore.

It took a while, but eventually, Sirius's breathing slowed down, and his muscles relaxed. "Read another chapter?" he asked quietly, almost sounding ashamed of his outburst.

Smiling, Remus nodded and released his hold on Sirius a little so that he could reach for the book on the coffee table. He read one more chapter, then another, and another, until finally, he could feel that Sirius had fallen asleep in his arms. Remus kissed the top of his head and lay down on the narrow sofa, pulling Sirius with himself that they were squeezed together, Remus's backside almost slipping off the cushion. Carefully so as to not wake the other man, Remus brushed a strand of curly black hair out of Sirius's face. He watched him for a long time, feeling the minutes pass by them like sand between fingers. When Sirius woke up again, Remus was halfway asleep as well, so they didn't speak and only held each other closer.

In the evening, when Sirius asked about dinner, they went into the kitchen and started to cook. It took their mind off of everything for a while, and Sirius even put on some music. Restlessly, they watched the sun set. Neither of them were particularly hungry, but they forced themselves to eat something nonetheless. Remus found himself sighing a lot, and he and Sirius kept looking at the clock, waiting for the time when the last task would start.

Back on the sofa, they sat with their heads together, holding each other's hands to stop them from trembling. Remus was starting to feel foolish. The two of them had been confident - almost cocky - over the past months. Looking back, Remus couldn't believe the amount of time they had wasted sitting around, listening to music, and reading books. They had been dancing; happy and almost even carefree in their own little bubble.

But now, they were looking down and realising that the ground beneath their feet wasn't as stable as they had thought. It was glass, and while it was still holding them up, they could feel that it wouldn't be like that for long. Remus knew that soon, reality would win against the dream of dancing forever. Seeing the fragile ground beneath them, Remus had the urge to sit down and stay still to keep it intact, but that would be a waste. They still had time to dance, to be happy, to laugh. They still had time to be together, just the two of them. And Remus wanted to use that time, every single drop that he had left, squeezing it for the last remnants of their idyllic life in his flat.

The entire day had passed by them in uncharacteristic silence, and the evening turned out no different. After hours of sitting and trembling, glancing from the clock to the window and back at each other, Sirius seemed to snap. "I can't take it anymore!" he complained, throwing his head back and groaning up towards the ceiling. His juvenile habits kept shining through, making Remus smile. "Read me something, Moony," he said. "But not this depressing Lord of the Rings. Read me something else."

Remus thought for a moment, going through the books he possessed in his head. "Hm," he said, "how about The Great Gatsby?" He suggested this, knowing that they most likely wouldn't get to the ending today.

When Sirius nodded, Remus got up to get the book. He put his arm around his boyfriend again when he sat back down and held him closely to his side as if they would both fall apart otherwise. After a while, not more than five chapters, Sirius took the book out of Remus's hands mid-sentence and stole the words right out of his mouth with a kiss. Remus was surprised at first, not having expected this so suddenly, but he almost instantly relaxed and melted into the kiss. Sirius was slow and gentle, his tongue just barely touching Remus's. They were both being careful with the other, as though one wrong movement could shatter them.

Still, when they took pauses to catch their breath, their foreheads leaning against each other, Remus caught a glimpse of Sirius's smile. It was as though a stone - no, a whole boulder - fell from his heart. There had always been something comforting about Sirius's smile, and Remus now knew what it was: it was enough comfort to know that Sirius was happy. As long as he was okay, Remus knew that he would be okay, too.

They had half expected thunder to clap when the owl arrived. And yet, it came as any other owl - silently, with strong wings and determined eyes. The tap on the kitchen window was the same, and the way it swooped right back outside as soon as Remus had taken off the letter was the same. What were they expecting? Perhaps for Harry to have written that he was Triwizard champion. Or even just for him to have survived the last task. Remus recognised Dumbledore's handwriting, and his hands started to tremble as he made his way back to Sirius on the sofa. Maybe Dumbledore had written because Harry was busy celebrating. He was a smart and talented boy; surely he had survived the tournament. Surely Lord Voldemort hadn't made his move.

Remus opened the letter, and the breathing got knocked out of him by the two words at the very top. "He's back," he breathed.

And just like that, the glass beneath their feet broke.

Chapter Text

 

 



 

This part is dedicated to death.

To the flowers that wilt,

To the memories we forget,

To the sorrow and sadness,

To the pain we feel.

                                            

                                                     

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Text

Hearing that sentence aloud felt like Remus was being thrown into cold water, and he was unable to breathe. Time seemed to slow down in the second that he could spare looking away from the piece of parchment to look at Sirius and see his eyes widen significantly. He could hear Sirius's heartbeat all the way to where Remus was standing, still on his feet because he couldn't bear sitting down. He felt restless, like like sitting down would be him resigning to doing nothing. He didn't want to do nothing.

"Read it to me," Sirius demanded.

With shaking hands, Remus held the letter as still as possible and said, his voice trembling, "That's all it says. He's back." He handed the letter to Sirius. "It looks like he wrote that in a hurry. Sirius, we -"

"Go," Sirius said suddenly - so suddenly that Remus jumped a little. "Go to Hogwarts now."

Remus frowned, confused. "What about you?" he asked. It was true - he couldn't think of resting until he found out what had happened. Tomorrow would be too late. But Sirius, too, would need to know. He was Harry's godfather. He should be there. Remus knew that neither of them would get any sleep tonight either way, but if they could at least make sure that Harry was okay...

"I'll stay, you go," Sirius said.

But Remus would dream of it. He wasn't leaving Sirius here to sit in agony until Remus came back with information. He wouldn't leave Sirius. Not ever, and especially not on a night like this. "No," he retorted, making Sirius frown. "No, you're coming with me."

"Moony -"

"Sirius."

That was Remus's final word, and Sirius knew it. He transformed into Padfoot in an instant, not arguing any further, like he had just been waiting for Remus to say so. Mere seconds later, they were standing in Hogsmeade, right in front of the Three Broomsticks, where Remus wished he would be sitting and drinking a hot butterbeer with the human Sirius by his side. Instead, he looked down at the big dog, put his hand on his head for a second, and then set off towards the castle. Remus's hip was screaming in pain, but he clenched his teeth and pushed on, all the way to the grounds of Hogwarts. He would have time to worry about his wounds later.

From this side, the castle looked peaceful, as if nothing bad had happened tonight. Remus knew that the Quidditch pitch would give a very different impression. He and Sirius had been quick to come; the students were probably still outside. Remus marched on, following the black dog through the serene darkness to where Hagrid's hut stood. Padfoot barked at Remus, who hurried up until his knees threatened to give out. Panting, he sank down onto a big pumpkin and stemmed his hands in his hips to catch his breath. Padfoot was by his side in an instant after having circled the pumpkin patch once and sat down so close to Remus that he was settled against his leg, warming it. Remus shivered a little, but he didn't feel like complaining. The cold went so much deeper than just the July night's air. It seemed to come from his very bones, chilling him to the marrow.

The wait allowed Remus's thoughts to run wild. What had happened? How had Voldemort returned? Was Harry safe? He didn't even have the mind to wonder why Sirius had chosen the pumpkin patch to wait in or what they were even waiting for. How had Voldemort returned? Was Harry safe? Those questions kept repeating themselves in his head, over and over. Was everyone else safe? Had something happened during the task, or had it been over already? Remus feared the worst. It was as though there was a weight tied around his neck, dragging him deeper and deeper into the water. Soon, the pressure would be so high that he would die from it.

They didn't have to wait long until there was a dark shape approaching them, a long cloak billowing in the cool breeze. Remus tensed in the same moment as Padfoot got up. At this point, Remus was so cold that his teeth were clattering, and when the shape turned out to be Professor McGonagall, he was glad to know that they were allowed to come into the castle. Quickly, Remus and the dog hurried after the professor, putting more pressure on Remus's hips. He wanted to sit back down again and have some tea, but instead, he forced himself up several flights of stairs. McGonagall was taking them to Dumbledore's office. Remus wondered why that was. Was Harry in there? Would they get to see him?

When McGonagall opened the door, however, the office was empty. "Wait here," she said to both Remus and the dog.

Remus looked around. He could remember the last time he had been in here just a few months ago, begging for information on Sirius's whereabouts. Yet when Remus turned around now, he found Sirius standing next to him, reaching his hand out for Remus. He took it like he was grabbing a lifeline, which was showing him the way back up to the surface. Sirius wouldn't let him drown. Remus held onto him for dear life, hoping and hoping and hoping.

"Are you back to cause another scene?"

The voice made both Remus and Sirius whip around. It had come from one of the portraits on the wall, but when its inhabitant saw who the other man with Remus was, he changed his target. "Oho, who do we have here?"

Phineas Nigellus Black stood up from his chair and approached the picture frame to get a better look at his relative. Sirius, in turn, raised his posture defiantly as if he was exprecting criticism, but it never came. Instead, Phineas turned his head to look back at Remus.

"I see you found him, then," he said.

Remus nodded wordlessly, but Sirius was already turned to him. "What scene?" he asked. "You caused a scene?"

"No, I didn't. He's just -"

"Oh, but yes, you did. See, young Sirius," Phineas interrupted, making Sirius turn back to the painting, "Mister Lupin here refused to leave the headmaster's office until receiving information on your whereabouts. For weeks, we had to listen to him beg pathetically, all but on his knees."

Remus's face had gotten red, and he avoided Sirius's eye. He could feel the amused look that was on his boyfriend's face, and were the circumstances not so horrible, Remus would have smirked at him. As it was, the mood in the office quickly fell as silence returned, and they all had a moment to return to the matter at hand. Remus kept his gaze on Sirius as he impatiently paced around the room, his hand gliding over the furniture. Remus wondered how well Sirius remembered this office. Could he remember the four of them standing right there before that very desk, their heads hung in faked shame as they pled their innocence?

The door swung open, and Dumbledore appeared in the doorframe. For a second, Remus was so lost in his thoughts that he half expected the headmaster to scold him for being a clever student who would much rather use his mind for silly schemes than for homework. But the sight of Harry dropped another bucket of iced water over Remus's head, the chill running down his spine. The boy looked horrible. Remus was almost outraged that he hadn't been brought to the hospital wing yet, but then he watched Sirius cross the room and wrap his arms around Harry, and he understood that this was what the boy needed now the most.

Sirius bent down to him, looking him up and down. Remus noticed that Harry had been shaking but wasn't anymore as Sirius's hands held onto his shoulders. "Harry, are you all right? I knew it - I knew something like this - what happened?" Sirius asked, his voice urgent and anxious. Remus hadn't heard him like this in a long time.

Softly, Remus touched Sirius's elbow and said, "Sirius. Let the boy sit down."

It seemed as though Harry noticed him for the first time now. His eyes peered at Remus over Sirius's hunched shoulders, and Remus was shocked to find them look so tired. He had known Harry as a lively boy with a lot of fight in him, but now it seemed as though all of that fight had been drained from him. He looked so very exhausted; almost like Sirius when he had appeared on Remus's doorstep.

Together, Sirius and Remus guided Harry to a chair, and he sank down at once as if his bones were too tired to hold him just a single second longer. Dumbledore cleared his throat and began telling the two men what had happened. When the name "Barty Crouch Jr." fell, Sirius and Remus looked at each other. They couldn't quite believe what they were hearing. Had they not talked about this only a few weeks ago? How was this possible? This wasn't like Peter Pettigrew transforming into a rat before Sirius's eyes. Sirius had watched Barty die. Dumbledore, however, offered an explanation for this, which didn't help at all to wipe the terror off Sirius and Remus's faces.

During this horrible story, Harry had been entirely silent. He was stroking Dumbledore's phoenix by the time the headmaster came to the end of his explanation. Both Sirius and Remus turned to look at Harry. Dumbledore walked around his desk and sat down opposite the boy. Knowing what would happen next, Remus wished he could stop it. He wished that Harry didn't have to tell them about any of this. When he looked at Sirius, he could see that he was thinking the same thing.

Before Harry could open his mouth to reply to Dumbledore's inquiry, though, Sirius had stepped closer to him and put a protective hand on his godson's shoulder. "We can leave that till morning, can't we, Dumbledore?"

Remus watched the set lines of his face as he spoke, and then he, too, said, "Let him have some sleep. Let him rest."

However, Dumbledore insisted. They had no other choice. They had no one else to turn to for this, and it was too important to overlook. They had to know, so Harry had to speak. But Remus couldn't listen. Quickly, as Harry's raspy voice recounted what had happened to him tonight, Remus's ears started to block out the sounds. He was sinking, deeper, and deeper. Harry's voice was muffled and distant, as though Remus's ears were filled with water. His lungs constriced, and yet he did his very best to stay upright. He couldn't let anyone know what he was feeling.

But he couldn't believe this. He couldn't believe that he had once considered Peter his friend. He had shared secrets with him, had slept in the same bed as him, and had let him copy his homework. Remus had helped Peter get his first kiss, and he had helped him get his first O in a Transfiguration exam. Sirius had shown him how to ride a broom, and though Peter had never liked the senstion of flying, he would never unlearn this skill because of what Sirius and James had taught him. And yet Harry was telling them that the very same Peter had pierced his arm with a dagger to use his blood to bring Lord Voldemort back. Remus pulled a face of disgust and horror at that, and Sirius and Dumbledore, too, were horrified.

Harry kept talking, then, about Voldemort and his cruel wish for Harry to duel him. "And then my wand and his, they sort of connected, and -" Words seemed to fail Harry, and the office went silent for a moment.

Remus kept his eyes on the shivering boy, so young and so frightened, even as Sirius asked, "The wands connected? Why?"

The final thing dragging Remus to the very bottom of the deep was Harry's nod, confirming that he had seen his parents tonight. Dozens of gallons of water, though maybe it was only his tears, clogged Remus's throat. He wanted to scream, but he couldn't. He wanted to move, but the pressure on his limbs was so great that he couldn't move an inch. He could do nothing but stand there, wobbly on his feet, and watch how a little boy had to tell the story of how he had encountered his dead parents, who he had never known. He had to watch Sirius's face as he heard that their best friends had appeared tonight, thirteen years after neither of them could save them.

Upon Dumbledore's request, Harry kept talking. After a while, Sirius swayed backwards, letting go of Harry's shoulder at last. He turned to Remus, who opened his arms immediately and caught Sirius as he fell towards him. He held him, grateful for the fact that Dumbledore kept his gaze firmly on Harry while Sirius and Remus were out of Harry's view slightly behind him. For just a moment, Remus and Sirius were sitting together at the bottom of the ocean, slowly bring crushed by the weight of the water.

Remus went home late at night or early in the morning; he couldn't tell. Madam Pomfrey had tutted when she had seen his fresh wounds, and after attending to Harry, she had done her best on Remus. Sirius had stayed with Harry at the hospital wing as a dog, and Remus had left both of them with a heavy heart, but he didn't want to overwhelm Harry as all the Weasleys had shown up, too. Besides, Dumbledore had asked Remus to walk with him, and together, they had sent off back to the road that led down to Hogsmeade. The sky was a darker shade of blue than when Remus had last walked this road, but he shivered in the cold just as much. He should have brought a thicker coat. At the absurdity of his thought, he almost chuckled.

"I can assume that you and Sirius are staying safe?" Dumbledore asked when they were almost off Hogwarts grounds.

Remus nodded. "Yes, sir," he replied, a little ashamed that they hadn't been as careful as they should have been. But it was hard, staying cooped up in one flat for months, and Dumbledore had to realise that.

In fact, the old man was smiling softly when he looked at Remus. "Good," he said. "And I can count on your help going forward?"

Having reached the entrance to Hogsmeade, Remus stopped and turned to look at Dumbledore. "Of course," he said. "You can always count on my help."

Chapter Text

When Sirius woke up sometime in the middle of the night, he was a bit disoriented for a moment and definitely sleep-deprived. The luxury of living in an actual home had made him almost forget what it was like to fall asleep and wake up in the form of a dog, anxious from the moment he opened his eyes whether anyone knew who he really was. It took a second to sink in that he was at Hogwarts - in the hospital wing with Harry, who was still sound asleep, which relaxed Sirius a little. After all the boy had been through last night, he deserved some rest.

Sirius allowed himself to get up on all fours so that he could have a look around. The hospital wing was almost eerilie silent. It smelled exactly the same as Sirius remembered - like medicine and disinfectant. The air was crisp with the slight tinge of fading magic. Sirius had stopped counting how many times he had woken up in this very room, on or next to these beds. In his school years, he and his friends had gotten up to all kinds of mischief, most which had landed them with Madam Pomfrey, who had done her very best to scold them as if she were their mother.

More notably, however, Sirius remembered the less joyous occasions on which he would visit Remus after a full moon. Sirius had always - even before having found out his true feelings for Remus - been very insistent on being with him in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey, usually so court with the boys (though from a place of love), had always softened a little when Sirius had come to her to ask how Remus was doing. Still, more than once, he had gotten into an argument with her when she didn't want to let him through because Remus was too exhausted for visitors.

The sky was still pitch black; it was still so early. Sirius longed to feel the cold air on his skin, to put his feet into the damp grass. He had been plagued by nightmares all night, and he missed having Remus to hold him when he woke up. Sirius hoped that Remus had been right, that Dumbledore had a plan for them, because Sirius himself couldn't think of what to do next. He didn't want to leave Harry, that was for sure, but he knew that the safest place for him after Hogwarts was with his aunt and uncle in the Muggle world.

After a moment, Sirius realised what had woken him. His ears perked up as he heard agitated voices from somewhere outside of the room. Sirius looked around again and saw Harry's visitors stirring awake. He almost held his breath, hoping that the commotion wouldn't wake Harry, too, but it was in vain. Soon, Cornelius Fudge came bursting into the room, followed by Snape and Professor McGonagall. Sirius went rigid as he listened to their discussion about Dementors and Barty. Sirius hadn't even allowed himself to think about either; too many memories were connected to both.

He had to say goodbye to Harry again too soon. Even the boy didn't seem to want to let Sirius go, so he put on a brave face and told him that they would see each other again. No matter what Dumbledore's plans were, Sirius would get back to Harry soon. Dumbledore had told him to contact "the old crowd," and Sirius was going to do so. But in the morning. For now, he just wanted to do one thing.

The flat was dark and silent, but unlike the hospital wing, it smelled like caramel, old books, and warm blankets. It was still warm from the fire they had lit hours ago, and Sirius shivered a little when he transformed back into his human form. He was so familiar with this place by now that he could easily find his way to the bedroom in the dark even without his hand following along the wall. The door to the bedroom was ajar as if inviting him in. Sirius didn't need to be told twice. He pushed the door open, simultaneously pulling his sweatshirt over his head. As he dropped it to the floor, his eyes fell on Remus, who was lying on his stomach. He was still fully dressed. Sirius smiled and crept closer to him, discarding his trousers as well.

Carefully, he slipped under the blankets that Remus was half lying on top of and bit his tongue as Remus woke up. "Sorry," Sirius whispered, but Remus only rolled to the side and wrapped his arms around Sirius, pulling him against his chest. In a matter of seconds, they were both fast asleep and didn't wake until well into the next day.

Remus was already out of bed by the time Sirius woke up again. He kept his eyes shut for a little while longer and rolled onto his back, sprawling out his limbs and letting the sun warm his face. Sirius took a deep breath. The air in the bedroom was warm and stuffy, so he reached for his wand and made the window fly open, letting in a cool draft. Part of the reason why Sirius didn't want to get up was the fact that his legs hurt, though he didn't know why. He had the feeling that he had clenched his muscles all night long and never really relaxed them. He had been in a constant state of awareness, ready in case something happened and he needed to defend himself and/or Remus.

Another rather big reason was that he didn't want to face the facts yet. Reality would hit him like a piano if he were to open his eyes now and see the real world materialise in front of him. For just a few more seconds, Sirius wanted to stay in this peaceful, darker world behind his eyelids where he was on his own with no worries. Well, he always had worries, but they were laughable compared to the horrific reality that Lord Voldemort was at large again. Sirius opened his eyes at last. Now you've done it, he thought to himself. Now you've thought it. For if he was thinking it, he was making it real. Sirius blinked in the bright sunlight and felt tears creeping into his eyes, not out of sadness but out of reflex. He sighed and turned his back to the window.

Would Harry be okay? Sirius tried to draft a letter to his godson in his head, but his thoughts kept drifting off, so he gave up. He would know what to say when he sat down with a quill in his hand, but for now, he would have to let Harry grieve. Sirius would be grieving, too, though the loss of his peaceful life with Remus. Speaking of... Sirius wondered whether he should tell Harry about it. There was no reason to keep it a secret, after all, but he thought that it was highly inappropriate to send Harry a letter about his relationship when there were much more important things going on. So, he would keep his private life private for a while longer.

He couldn't wait for news from Dumbledore, telling him what to do next. Sirius had high hopes for himself, hoping that he could finally be of use again. Maybe he would even get the chance to stop a few terrible things from happening, just like in the old days. Even locked up here, Remus had gotten work from Dumbledore while Sirius had sat around uselessly. He was done with sitting around. He wanted to help.

Remus appeared in the doorframe, making Sirius lift his head off the pillow. His legs snapped together as he was a bit embarrassed about having spread them so far apart on the mattress. There was a smirk on Remus's lips as Sirius could feel his face assuming a colour comparable to that of a tomato. The sun really was very warm today, he found. As Remus's eyes slowly raked down the length of Sirius's body, he became increasingly aware of the fact that he was wearing only his underwear while Remus was fully dressed in the doorframe.

"Get up, lazy man," Remus said with a smile. "I made lunch."

Sirius moaned and rolled to his side. "Can't you come here instead?" he asked, opening his arms invitingly.

The smile on Remus's lips widened, but he shook his head and said, "The food will burn."

"Shut off the oven, then," Sirius retorted, shrugging.

Remus almost rolled his eyes as he pulled his wand from his pocket, but he was still smiling as he muttered the spell. Then, he came closer to the bed and put his wand down on the nightstand. "Don't you want to get up?" he asked, looking down at Sirius with a slightly disapproving look.

Sirius grinned. "No."

Quickly, he snaked his arms around Remus's middle and pulled him down on the bed with him. Remus laughed and tried to wrestle himself free. Sirius was sure that Remus must be letting him win because he certainly wasn't strong enough to climb on top of Remus and hold him still all on his own. They were both smiling and breathing heavily as Sirius settled himself on top of Remus, pressing the other man's wrists next to his head into the pillow. They looked at each other for a long time. Sirius was trying to memorise every part of his lover's face.

"What are you going to do now, Snuffles?" Remus teased with a raised eyebrow.

Sirius didn't have to think twice. He leaned down and kissed Remus forcefully so that he pushed him ever deeper into the pillow. He could feel beneath him that Remus's prick was jerking awake; as was Sirius's own. For the moment, he didn't think of what had happened last night. For the moment, all he could think about was feeling Remus inside of him. Hastily, Sirius pulled off Remus's T-shirt (Bowie) and his shorts (scarlet) until they were both equally undressed. After each item of clothing was discarded, Remus put his hand on the back of Sirius's neck and pulled him straight for another kiss.

There seemed to be a fist around Sirius's heart, clenching. He could feel how hard it sometimes was for his heart to remain beating, as if it had to manually make itself beat against the forceful fist. But when Remus was with him, the fist was being pulled off his heart by an invisible force, leaving it alone to flutter freely. Sirius could feel his heart going mad in his chest now, like a mockingbird in a cage. He lowered his body so that more of him was in contact with Remus, and he felt rather than heard the sharp intake of breath when their groins pressed against each other.

Suddenly, Sirius pulled away. Remus's eyes widened, and his brow furrowed in confusion. "Are you okay?" Sirius asked. Remus frowned even more. "Does anything hurt? I'm sorry, I forgot -"

Remus had hooked his hands in the back of Sirius's neck again and was silencing him with a deep kiss. "Shut it," Remus whispered against his lips. "I'm okay."

Still, Sirius was hesitant to go on. He had seen the wound on Remus's leg last night as Madam Pomfrey had mended it for him. How could he have been so stupid and forgotten that the full moon hadn't even been five days ago? But Remus wouldn't have it. He dug his fingers into Sirius's waist and pulled him down again until Sirius was sitting on his bulge. Sirius groaned into the kiss and gave in. They both stripped out of their underpants, and Remus raised himself off the pillow to press kisses to Sirius's chest until Sirius pushed him back down and straddled him once again, now fully naked.

Slowly and carefully, Sirius took Remus's prick in his hand and lowered himself down on top of it. As Remus slid deeper into him, Sirius's eyes rolled back into his head. He tilted his head back, his mouth opened and ready to let out a moan. Remus's hands grabbed a hold of Sirius's waist and guided him down slowly. The deeper Remus got, the more his hold tightened on Sirius's wrist. Once he was fully inside, Remus gave Sirius a much-appreciated moment to catch his breath. Then, Sirius started to move. At first, he only circled his hips, but soon, he was bouncing up and down on top of Remus, who was still holding onto him.

Afterwards, when they were both showered and clean again, they sat down for a late lunch, which was just as delicious as it would have been half an hour earlier. Sirius kept smirking at Remus over the table, and Remus's blush deepened with every time their eyes met. Sirius was proud of him, but he couldn't say so because he didn't want Remus to think that he was ridiculing him. But Sirius was immensely proud that Remus finally seemed to be growing into this, taking more control and telling Sirius what he liked. Remus was finally starting to get comfortable with the idea of Sirius finding him sexy.

After lunch, they moved over to the sofa. Sirius sat down with his back against the armrest, his feet in Remus's lap. Remus had sighed at that at first, but he had quickly given up on pretending that this was bothering him. "Tell me what happened after I left," he said to Sirius, whose smile fell instantly.

He rearranged his seating position, shifting on his buttocks a little. "They, uh -" He cleared his throat. "They gave Barty to the Dementors."

Remus's eyes widened; he looked just as outraged as Sirius had felt when he had heard. "Who's they? Surely not Dumbledore? He would have said something to us yesterday."

"No," Sirius said quickly, shaking his head. "No, it was the Ministry. Fudge doesn't believe what happened. He thinks it's some sort of trick coming from Dumbledore."

"Tell me everything," Remus demanded, and so Sirius recounted everything he had heard last night in the hospital wing.

"That reminds me," he said, already getting up, "Dumbledore told me to contact Figg and Mundungus and the rest of the old crowd."

Remus nodded, determined, and got off the sofa as well. Together, the two of them spent the rest of the afternoon kneeling in front of the fireplace, calling their associates one after the other and catching them up through the flames. Emmeline Vance, who had been appointed by Dumbledore to keep an eye on Sirius and Remus, was glad to hear from them. She apologised for not letting them know of her position near Remus's building, but they assured her that they were holding no grudges.

"A job is a job," Remus said with a kind smile. "We all have to do what we must now."

Mundungus Fletcher wasn't so happy. He kept the conversation exceptionally short. Sirius grinned when the face vanished from the flames. "He's a weasel," he said to Remus, slightly amused. "We can be glad that Dumbledore has him on a leash."

"For now..." Remus muttered, his eyes still fixed on the flames before him. As Sirius frowned, Remus looked up at him. "Once Voldemort gains momentum again with his old followers returning, it's only a matter of time until Mundungus takes flight."

He was right about that, no matter how much Sirius would have liked to believe the oppsite. Fact was, they only had so many people on their side, and the fear that Lord Voldemort was inspiring was a real one. Not everyone was ready for another fight that they had hoped would never come to pass. Not everyone would be willing to fight another war when they were so greatly outnumbered.

"Did you ever think we would have to do this again?" Sirius asked quietly after they hadn't said anything at all for a while.

His side was warm from the fire they were sitting at, beads of sweat gathering on his forehead. Remus seemed quite unbothered by the heat. They were sitting cross-legged, knee touching knee, and Sirius was very aware of the warmth there, too. When Remus looked at him, their eyes meeting, warmth also spread over Sirius's cheeks.

Remus shrugged, shook his head, and then shrugged once again. "Yes," he answered. "I hoped that James and Lily's sacrifice would have put an end to it once and for all, but we knew that there was the possibility that he was still around, just biding his time, gaining strength..."

Although Sirius wished that it wasn't so, he had to admit that Remus was right about that, too. They had wished that Voldemort had been defeated, but only a fool would have believed it so naively. They had always known that they would have to expect another fight; the question had always only been when. But neither Sirius nor Remus had expected it to happen like this. They had hoped that Harry could somehow be kept out of it. They, too, had been fools to hope for this.

"Do you think we'll win this time?" Sirius asked. He had been asking himself that question all night, but he hadn't dared to say it out loud before. He didn't think he could handle Remus telling him no. Sirius hoped that, in that case, Remus would lie to him.

"Yes," Remus replied. His eyes were sincere, and his voice was determined. He wasn't lying. "We'll definitely win."

Sirius didn't know what made Remus so sure about that, and yet he couldn't help but believe him. This time, they knew what they were up against. This time, they were together. This time, they had Voldemort's biggest weakness: Harry, the boy he had failed to kill once already. And Harry had them. He had Sirius and Remus and Dumbledore and his friends. Harry had people he could trust; not like Remus and Sirius and James. This time, Voldemort didn't have a spy in their midst.

"Where do you think he is right now?" Sirius asked.

Remus sighed as if he was tired - tired of Sirius's endless questions. "I don't know," he said and shrugged. "Probably hiding out at a Death Eater's place."

Sirius grinned. "I bet it's Snivellus."

Remus snorted a laugh. "Don't be ridiculous. Snape doesn't have the guts. He's Dumbledore's now."

Sirius rolled his eyes and said, "You shouldn't believe that slimy git's lies, Moony. He wants you to believe that he's a good guy now, but he's still the same petty, vindictive little boy that we met in school."

"Didn't Dumbledore make you call a truce?"

"Please," Sirius scoffed. "I'm not saying this to his face now, am I?"

Again, Remus laughed. "I'd say Voldemort is at the Malfoy's. He'd want to make Lucius pay for not staying loyal through all these years."

"If that's his plan, then he has quite a few Death Eaters to choose from, doesn't he? Besides, my dear cousin would never let him into her house to where her spineless son lives."

"She might not have much of a choice. If Lucius has to make up for his mistakes, then so does Narcissa. Her son won't be safe from Voldemort anywhere. And I'm sure Draco would love to be in the inner circle."

Sirius grinned at the look on Remus's face. He had his eyes narrowed and was pursing his lips. "You don't like the boy, do you?" he asked with a slight laugh in his voice.

"No, that's not true," Remus tried to argue, but Sirius had already seen the flash of the expression flitting across Remus's face.

"Yes, it is," he grinned. "You have quarrel with a fourteen year old boy."

"He's rude! And just as sleazy as his father. Haughty git, the both of them. He has that look on his face that he got from Narcissa, the one that says, 'I'm better than you are.' He's a nightmare, Sirius, and Harry can testify to that."

The grin on Sirius's lips had widened so much that his cheeks were starting to ache. "You hate a fourteen year old boy!" he stated, now laughing.

Remus narrowed his eyes again and shoved Sirius's shoulder. "I do not! Now be quiet and tell me if we missed anyone."

Sirius kept grinning at him for a moment before looking back into the fire. He thought for a second, then shook his head. "I can't think of anyone. I think that was all."

Relieved that they had done their part and were now able to get off the floor, the two men pushed themselves to their feet and sank back down into the soft cushions of the sofa. Remus cuddled up against Sirius, who loved to have him in his arms like this, and they fell silent again. It was weird to joke and tease like this when they knew what was going on outside of these four walls, but Sirius decided that was the best they could do. They would do their job and fight, but in the meantime, they would make life worth living.

The glass beneath them might be broken. They might be barefoot, the shards cutting them. Their feet might be bleeding. But they wouldn't stop dancing. They refused to stop. They held onto that piece of happiness with gritted teeth and danced until they couldn't feel the pain in their feet anymore.

Chapter Text

As the days passed, Remus and Sirius received more and more mail from Dumbledore as he was starting to group and organise the Order of the Phoenix again. Mostly, though, he clearly stated that their highest priority for now was to stay in the flat and wait for further instructions. This, specifically, he repeated in almost every letter.

"Wait for further instructions," Sirius read out loud yet again and tossed the letter aside with a sigh before sinking down to the sofa.

Remus leaned forward and picked it off the table. His eyes rushed over the short letter, and then he, too, frowned as he got hung up on that one sentence. Further instructions this, further instructions that. Remus was sick of hearing and reading it. Were they not grown men? Had they not fought in a war before? Why was Dumbledore keeping them out of the loop like this? What was he doing in the meantime while they were sitting idly by, being good little boys and waiting for further instructions?

"I'm starting to feel like Harry must be feeling," Sirius sighed, signing off his letter to his godson. "Dumbledore might as well be telling us to keep our noses clean," he said, pointing at that exact sentence written on his letter to Harry.

"Don't be dramatic, Sirius," Remus said with a forced lightness in his tone. Truth was, he, too, felt like being dramatic. He, too, was starting to get sick of staying in his flat. It was a wonder he and Sirius hadn't jumped at each other's throats yet after having lived in such close quarters for months.

"I'm not," Sirius insisted as he tied his letter to Hedwig's leg and watched her fly off through the opened window. He looked at Remus, pursind his lips. "We're not children! We can help! Why won't he let us?"

As it turned out, both Sirius and Remus had been wrong in their assumption that Dumbledore was purposefully keeping them in the dark. In the following week, when Sirius was lying on his stomach on the living room rug, complaining about the heat, another big owl arrived, carrying yet another letter from the Headmaster. Sirius, too lazy and too hot to get up, rolled around to his back and asked Remus, "What does it say?" as he opened the letter.

"No, wait, don't tell me," Sirius said. "He's telling us to... wait? Am I right? Further instructions? I swear, Moony, at this rate, everyone else will know what's going on before we do. We should go to Hogwarts and talk to him. He can't ignore us if we show up and ask him flat-out. Keeping Harry out of it is one thing; it's only to protect him, but we should be allowed to -"

"Sirius, shut up," Remus snapped, though not unkindly, and was pleased to find the lips of his lover falling shut.

Sirius sat up, and Remus handed Dumbledore's letter over. He watched as Sirius's eyes skipped over the words on the parchment, written in neat letters with dark green ink. After reading twice, Sirius looked up at Remus, who was still standing, his naked feet on the hardwood floor. Sirius frowned, then put the letter aside.

"What does he mean with 'complications'?" he asked.

Remus shrugged. He sank down to the sofa and thoughtfully rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. It came back slick with sweat. He hated this heat. "I'm not sure. I guess since we can't rely on the help of the Ministry, it makes organising the Order even harder. We have to get everyone together, which isn't very easy since we're all in different stages of life and all over the country, no less."

"But we're all ready to drop everything for this," Sirius pointed out. "Like Figg. Or whoever else Dumbledore has on rotation for Harry-watch."

Remus nodded and sighed. "Yes, I suppose. But even so, we're still missing a place to gather at. James..." Remus swallowed thickly. "James used to have that covered, but now..."

His thoughts drifted off. How was Dumbledore planning on getting everyone together? They surely couldn't do it at any of their places. Remus and Sirius's flat was much too small, and so was the Burrow. Besides, at the Burrow, they would have to involve the kids. Remus wasn't sure how Molly would like that. Nymphadora most likely wasn't living in a space larger than Remus's, and he doubted that asking her to host was an option. Which left the older members like Arabella Figg, who was out of the question because she was Harry's neighbour, and the first thing the Order had agreed on was to keep Harry out of it for as long as possible. Mundungus would never let them into his home, and neither would Dumbledore want to. Emmeline Vance was still stationed close-by somewhere to keep an eye on Remus and Sirius.

Sirius had gotten uncharacteristically quiet. Remus's eyes wandered back to him, and he frowned. Sirius was just sitting there, his focus on the letter. He seemed to be deep in thought, so Remus didn't want to disturb him and stayed silent. Still, his eyes kept going back to his boyfriend. Should he be worried? Though, he could not pretend that he had no reason to be worried, too. Lord Voldemort had been back for a week now, but things were unnaturally calm. No strange disappearances and no unexplainable deaths. This was all very odd. What was Voldemort waiting for? What was his plan?

All the thinking made Remus's head hurt, and the rising heat in the flat wasn't any help at all. He sighed and got up again. The kitchen tiles were cool beneath his feet, and he flexed his toes for a second before opening the fridge. Remus leaned down, his face relaxing in the cold air of the inside of the fridge. He scanned the food and drinks he had, then pulled out some lemonade and poured them two glasses. Sirius smiled up at him when Remus put the glass on the table next to him, but the smile seemed distracted and far away. It made Remus frown, but he didn't comment. If Sirius had something on his mind, he would come to Remus.

After a while, Remus got to his feet. Sirius watched him cross the living room with a raised eyebrow and his jaw slack as if he had been about to say something. He looked almost even offended when Remus turned back around to him, almost in the hallway already. "I'm taking a shower," Remus announced to Sirius's surprise, his eyebrows flying high. "Are you coming with?"

This surprised Sirius even more, and he shot up so fast that Remus had to laugh. "Am I -? Are you -? What?"

It seemed like Sirius couldn't think fast enough to come up with full sentences, but Remus knew that his answer was a very loud and very clear "yes," which was why his smirk widened into a grin. He pulled off his T-shirt while turning on his heel and heading down the hallway to the bathroom. Sirius was on his feet in two seconds, and in the next two, he was right behind Remus, his hands on his waist. Once in the bathroom, Sirius kicked the door shut behind himself, then spun Remus around and pressed him against the door. Remus was still smirking, enjoying the feeling of having Sirius wrapped around his finger like this.

"Are you sure about this?" Sirius asked breathlessly. He was always making sure that they wouldn't do something that Remus wasn't one hundred per cent comfortable with.

But Remus only nodded fiercely like he couldn't believe Sirius was wasting precious time with stupid questions like these. This made Sirius smirk as well. "Yes, please," Remus whispered almost against Sirius's lips, just like he had done a week ago.

Sirius smiled and moved in, his eyes falling shut again as his lips touched Remus's. Remus could tell that Sirius wanted to be careful with him, but as soon as they were touching, some invisible force seemed to pull them together like a spell. Sirius pressed his body against Remus's, hot skin against hot skin. Remus bit Sirius's lip and tugged at it softly until a moan slipped from him. Remus's body was lit on fire at the sound, which seemed to go right into him, running through his veins like electricity and ending up in his crotch. Feeling it swelling in his underpants, Remus rubbed his bulge against Sirius for a moment before stripping off his underpants first, then his boyfriend's.

They reluctantly paused the kiss to safely step into the shower, not wanting to slip and fall. Once Sirius was inside with him, Remus turned on the water. It was cool at first, rinsing off the dried sweat on his chest, before warming up a little. Remus was on his boyfriend in an instant, who welcomed him with parted lips, allowing his tongue to slip inside. He wrapped his arms around Remus's waist, welding their bodies together under the stream of the water. Remus was smiling against his lips.

Sirius kissed Remus's neck, having perfect access to it because he was so adorably small compared to Remus's freakishly tall body. With his tongue, Sirius lapped at the water that ran down Remus's body as he worked his way down to his chest, where a new scar was still healing. Remus stopped him by putting his hands into his hair and whispering his name, and he could tell at once that Sirius disapproved of this very much. Sirius gazed up at him through his eyelashes, which were collecting droplets of water until he blinked and let them fall down his face.

"Come here," Remus whispered, and that was all it took for Sirius to obey.

He straightened up again and went back to kissing Remus, who had already missed what he tasted like - like bitter coffee and something rich, almost metallic, along with that unmistakable something that was just Sirius. His hands were slipping on Remus's skin, but Sirius gripped his waist and managed to pull him closer nonetheless. A breath got stuck in Remus's throat as their bodies touched. He hadn't felt sensations like these yet. They had had sex a couple of times in Remus's bed, and it had been so good each time that he had believed that another place and another position would hardly make a difference. How wrong he had been... how naive.

Remus could barely stay on his feet when Sirius's hand, slick with cool and refreshing water, trailed down between their bodies and wrapped around Remus's hard prick. He gasped, swallowed water, and coughed. When his eyes flew open, they found Sirius smiling fondly at him, like Remus was the only thing that mattered in the whole bloody world. He couldn't keep his eyes open for long, though, when Sirius started to move his hand along the length of Remus's prick, squeezing gently.

"Bloody hell, Sirius," Remus gasped, careful to keep his head down so as not to swallow any more water. "Wait, Sirius," he managed to press out despite his entire body protesting those words. "Wait."

The other man listened immediately, stilling his hand, though not removing it. Remus was shuddering slightly from the sensations as he tried to find his ability to speak, which he seemed to lose every time Sirius touched him. The other man was patient, looking up at Remus with big, expectant eyes. There was a hint of something deeper in them, something like worry. To get rid of that look and to reassure Sirius that he hadn't done anything wrong, Remus kissed him.

"I want you," he whispered against Sirius's lips between ragged breaths. He leaned back just enough that he could see the expression on his boyfriend's face, which was still a little confused. "I want you," Remus repeated. "To fuck me."

Sirius's eyes widened, and he finally dropped his hand, leaving Remus's prick throbbing and aching for the contact back. He took half a step back to look at Remus, his eyes rushing over his face. "Are you sure?" he asked like he so often did.

Remus rolled his eyes and grabbed Sirius by the back of his neck, pulling him in. They crashed together, naked, wet bodies colliding. Remus devoured Sirius, taking all of him that he could reach. He bit Sirius's lip, then ran his tongue over it. His fingernails dug into Sirius's back as he let his hands run down to his butt. He could feel the man sucking in a sharp breath, and Remus pulled him even closer.

"Is that a yes?" Sirius asked with a smirk that made Remus roll his eyes.

"For fuck's sake, Sirius," he groaned, exasperated, and leaned his head back for a second to let the cold water land on his face. "Yes," he said, looking back at Sirius. "Yes, that's a yes. Now please stop asking me and just fuck me!"

Sirius's lips curled into a grin, and he turned off the water. "No need for profanities, darling," he said, but before Remus could say anything else, Sirius was stepping out of the shower. "Okay, but in all seriousness, you know that this -"

Remus shut him up with a kiss, stopping him from ruining this moment. He softly bit Sirius's lip and pressed their bodies against each other again, wet and slippery and naked. "Will hurt like hell, but the payoff will be unimaginable," Remus finished Sirius's sentence in a whisper against his lips, and the other man nodded. "Now that we're clear about that," Remus teased, "do you want to keep wasting time or...?"

He didn't have to say anything else before Sirius was already on him, all over him. They stumbled out of the bathroom, bumping into several walls on their way to the bedroom across the hall. Remus kept his arms firmly wrapped around his boyfriend, unwilling to let him go even if it made walking a little harder.

They finally found the bedroom, and Sirius guided Remus until the back of his legs hit the bed. Remus's breath hitched in his throat. Making contact with the bed made it just so much more real what Remus had asked for. He sped up the kiss, his fingers fisting the back of Sirius's hair. Remus was desperate for more, and his body was in full agreement with him. For once, they were on the same page, his body not rebelling against him as it usually did. Remus decided to take the first step, so he sat down on the bed, pulling Sirius with him so that the other man had to lean down to keep kissing him.

Sirius broke away after a moment, though. He was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling in quick intervals. His eyes were dark and glazed over with lust and hunger as he looked down at Remus, who felt the sudden urge to feel shy and cover himself. But that would defeat the purpose, so instead, he pushed his knees apart and let Sirius step between them. Remembering what Sirius had done before their first time, Remus leaned forward, putting his hands on the back of Sirius's thighs, and wrapped his lips around his prick. It made Remus's heart beat faster and his own prick twitch to hear Sirius's gasp of surprise. Remus, quite happy with himself, kept going, taking his boyfriend ever deeper before moving his head back again and swirling his tongue over the tip. Sirius grabbed his hair firmly but not nearly enough to hurt Remus, who kept going until Sirius's legs were shaking beneath his palms.

"Fuck," Sirius gasped as he looked down at Remus, who licked his lips and held eye-contact. Sirius was blushing, and it took Remus all his strength not to put his mouth back to work and finish him off that way.

Instead, he crawled backwards to the center of the bed. Sirius moved right with him, climbing on top of Remus. For a moment, they just stayed like this, breathing hard with the anticipation, looking deep into each other's eyes. Remus loved Sirius's eyes. They were so dark and beautiful, and sometimes, Remus could swear he could see stars in them.

Sirius leaned down to him and kissed him deeply, moving his body so that he was forcing Remus to lie down completely. "Ready?" he whispered against Remus's lips.

Remus nodded. He was ready. Nervous, but definitely ready. He had been thinking about this for a long time; for too many years to remember. He wanted to feel Sirius in every way, in a way he had never felt anyone before. He wanted to have Sirius as close to him as possible, be united with him in every aspect. Not to mention the fact that the idea of having Sirius Black inside of him was so mind-blowingly hot...

"I'm going to start with my finger, okay?" Sirius said softly. "So don't be surprised."

All Remus could do was to nod and let his boyfriend teach him. He kept his head lifted off the pillow so he could kiss Sirius better, but he couldn't see anything when he looked down between them. Sirius's body was in the way, and his hand was out of sight no matter how much Remus craned his neck. He was just slightly aware of Sirius's finger circling his hole before it slowly but surely slid inside. Remus's whole body cramped up, and he lifted his head even more. His eyes widened, and he let out a long gasp.

Sirius focused his attention away from down there and back up to Remus's face. He kissed him, pushing his head back into the pillow. "Remus, love, I need you to relax," he whispered. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Desperate though still a little shaky, Remus nodded again. He reminded himself to relax. He just needed to relax. Just... Fuck me, Merlin's beard, this is- Remus's thoughts short-circuited as Sirius inserted another finger and white-hot pain spread from down there through the rest of his body. Remus truly hadn't expected it to feel like this. It was good, but also kind of weird, and he didn't quite know what to do with that. He had yet to see the big appeal about this whole thing. How was this supposed to be better than getting a blowjob?

"You okay?" Sirius asked, and Remus just now realised that sweat was beading on his forehead. "Tell me if anything feels uncomfortable. We can stop whenever you want."

"No," Remus said and shook his head. "No, please keep going."

Sirius's brow furrowed a little, and he searched Remus's face for a moment but then nodded. He began to move his fingers in and out of Remus, slowly and carefully loosening him up. After a few times of this, Remus started to see what all that noise was about. His fists clenched around the bedsheets, but when he opened his eyes and saw Sirius smiling down at him, that wasn't enough anymore. Remus threw his arms over the other man's shoulders and put his fingers into his hair, pulling him down of a kiss, all while Sirius's fingers were still moving into him.

"Ready for another one?" Sirius asked. He sounded thoroughly amused at Remus's reaction, and his grin widened when Remus nodded.

He gasped yet again when another finger joined Sirius's two already inside of him. It felt considerably easier than the first two, but as soon as they, too, started to move, Remus could still feel some remnants of pain. But it wasn't much, and the good feelings outweighed the pain a hundredfold. Remus had to concentrate hard on staying relaxed and not clenching anything, but when Sirius whispered, "You're doing great," he fell apart.

"Yeah?" he asked, begging and needy and desparate for more praise.

Sirius nodded and flicked his tongue over Remus's bottom lip. "Yeah," he rasped, his voice raw and melting Remus to his core.

"Please," he whined, almost whimpering. In another situation, he would have been embarrassed to hear himself like this. But, as it was, Remus couldn't give less of a damn. He wasn't above admitting how much he wanted the man he loved inside of him.

Sirius, on the other hand, also wasn't above making Remus admit that out loud. He moved his body upwards, pushing his fingers even deeper, until he reached Remus's ear and whispered, "Please, what?"

"Please fuck me, Sirius, I can't take it anymore," Remus replied without missing a beat.

The other man kissed him again, his tongue stroking against Remus's. Then he slipped his fingers out, and Remus let out a long breath. For a few more seconds, he could still feel something inside of him even though he knew there was nothing. His body was merely remembering the new sensation. He watched Sirius, who was still smiling rather satisfied with himself, as he straightened up. He twisted his wrist and conjured a small bottle out of thin air. Remus didn't need to ask what it was, and, sure enough, Sirius put some of the clear gel on his other hand.

Remus watched with wide, curious eyes, how Sirius reached down with his hand and stroked himself twice to get fully hard and simultaneously coat his prick in lube. It wasn't lost on Remus that he hadn't used that when he had been inside Sirius. He hadn't even thought of using it, but Sirius had also never requested it. Remus wondered why that was. Surely, after so many years, Sirius and his body must be out of practice, right? Or was this something that would stay like this all your life? Once you're loose, there's no going back? Or did Sirius perhaps enjoy the stinging pain that came with inserting something in yourself? Or did he just not want to ask Remus in case he would be embarrassed?

Realising that he was overthinking things again, Remus focused back on Sirius, who still had his eyes on him. "Is everything okay?" he asked, worry tinging his voice.

Remus nodded. "Yes," he breathed.

Sirius nodded and leaned back down again, closing the space between their lips until they were brushing against each other. He lined himself up with Remus's hole and reminded him in a whisper, "Relax, my love."

As Sirius's prick entered Remus inch by inch, his eyes rolled ever deeper into his head. He had truly underestimated how big Sirius was. "Oh my fucking God," Remus gasped once Sirius was fully inside of him and holding still for a second.

Their eyes met, and Sirius's were slightly worried. "Okay?" he asked.

Remus nodded, hard, but his fingernails were digging into Sirius's shoulders. "Give me," he gasped, "one second."

So Sirius did. He stayed exactly like this - eight inches deep inside Remus, holding himself up with his arms by Remus's head. He stayed like this until the searing pain subsided and gave way to the feeling of pure pleasure. So this was what all the appeal was, Remus finally realised.

He nodded again, mostly to himself this time. "Okay," he said. "Okay, I'm ready."

When Sirius started to move, Remus had to shamefully realise that he would most likely never have been ready for this. Years and years of anticipation and imagination hadn't prepared him for how undeniably good this felt. He noticed that Sirius was still watching him with a curious expression until Remus said, "Fuck, Sirius, this feels amazing!" Then, his face lit up. He kissed Remus again, fast and hard, and pushed into him again. With every careful thrust and every deep kiss, Remus gasped and moaned and lost his mind little by little.

But the thing that really got him was the look on Sirius's face. As he was hovering above Remus, sweating and panting, his eyes were on Remus the whole time. His lips were parted, and he looked ready to combust at any moment. He looked so... satisfied. There was no other word for it. Remus was glad to be able to give this to Sirius, and that meant almost even more to him than what he was giving him alone. No matter how great Remus's own pleasure was - and it was certainly a lot - it always grew a little when he could bring pleasure to the man he loved as well.

"You're so good, Sirius," Remus gasped. Sirius's eyes widened, and his cheeks turned an even darker shade of red. His next thrust felt extra determined. "Ugh, yes," Remus moaned, his own satisfaction rising alongside Sirius's. "Yes, come on, baby!"

He wrapped his legs around Sirius as he came and held him in place for a moment until their shaking subsided. Sirius collapsed on top of him, his head on Remus's chest, and Remus's face broke into a smile. He ran his fingers through the man's damp black hair and stroked it out of his face.

"That was incredible," Remus whispered.

Sirius went back to grinning and slipped out of Remus, sliding off of him and lying down next to him, though still half of his body was draped over Remus's. "Was it?" he asked teasingly. "I almost didn't notice."

Remus rolled his eyes, but he didn't get to reply because he was startled out of his wits by a knock on the window. The big, bird-shaped form in the darkness paced back and forth along the windowsill, waiting to be let in. Remus sighed and got out of bed, pulling the blanket with him to cover himself. They couldn't even get one evening before the cruel reality came back to assault them. News that couldn't wait until morning was never good news.

"Another letter from Dumbledore?" Remus asked with a confused glance at the familiar handwriting on the envelope. What could he possibly want again at this hour? But when Remus turned back around to the bed and saw Sirius sitting up with a downright weird expression on his face, his heart stopped. This couldn't be good.

"What's going on?" Remus asked as he handed the letter to the other man because it was addressed to him alone instead of both of them.

Sirius didn't reply until he had opened the letter and scanned it once. All the colour seemed to drain from his face. Remus slowly sat down. He frowned so hard that his forehead hurt. Just one evening... that was all he had wanted. One evening without Sirius's face doing that, looking so devastatingly sad. One evening where they could just fall into each other and lay next to each other, naked and sweating. Just one evening.

"I have to tell you something," Sirius said quietly, and there went Remus's evening.

His whole body tensed. "Okay?"

"When Dumbledore said that it was hard to find a place to fit the Order in, I had an idea... a solution. It's useless to me anyway, and I don't want it. I never have. It wasn't even meant for me."

Remus's frown deepened with every word Sirius spoke, but he didn't interrupt to ask.

"I just didn't think that I would have to be... involved." Sirius looked so helpless that it broke Remus's heart. What was going on? What idea had Sirius had? And why was this solution making him look like this?

"But now he wants me to go back," he said. Remus blinked in confusion, not understanding what he meant until Sirius looked up at him with pained eyes and clarified, "Back to Grimmauld Place."

Remus's eyes widened. Dumbledore was sending Sirius back to the house he had never been able to call "home."

Chapter Text

Nausea. That was all Sirius could feel. Deadly, all-consuming nausea. The buildings surrounding number 12 were the same depressing shades of grey as Sirius remembered, even in the darkness of the early night. He had snuck out enough times in the middle of the night to be able to find his way here even without the smallest source of light. The front steps to the house he had grown up in looked exactly the same, even if a little old and withered now. Sirius remembered the silver serpent door knocker, remembered having bewitched it once so that it snapped at his relatives' hands when they came to visit. It had been fun until his mother had found out.

The nausea was threatening to knock him off his feet any moment now as he came to face the door. The paint had once been shining and black, but now, it was battered and old. How fitting, Sirius thought. He couldn't open it. His whole body was rebelling against the idea of stepping over that threshold into that house. He couldn't lift his hands, and he couldn't move his feet. He could barely even make his lungs work. His body had been willing to work all the way up the steps but not any further. He would not open that door.

"We don't have to do this."

The soft voice shook Sirius, and his body caved in, allowing him to turn his head at the speaker. Remus was beside him, biting his nails. He hadn't done that in a while. Sirius had half the mind to take Remus's hand away from his lips, but his body wouldn't allow him a movement as big as that. Besides, who was he to deny Remus his little nervous habit when Sirius was the one almost throwing up right there on those steps?

We don't have to do this, Sirius repeated to himself. Yes, we do. He had volunteered this place as headquarters. It had been his idea. Instead of sitting around uselessly, Sirius had thought that at least this way, he could contribute to the Order of the Phoenix. Besides, what else would he do with this house if not give it up for a good cause? Set it on fire, was his logical conclusion. Burn the whole bloody thing down to the ground.

"Open it," he finally said to Remus. His voice sounded strange and foreign, as if it belonged to someone else - to a scared fifteen-year-old boy, perhaps, running away from this house after --

Sirius shook his head slightly, and another wave of nausea effectively washed the memories into his subconscious. Remus hesitated for a moment, studying Sirius's face, but Sirius turned away to stare back at the faded paint on the door. Finally, Remus sighed and tapped his wand to the door, setting off the seveal locks inside of it. As the door swung open, Sirius's whole body went rigid. He half expected his mother to be standing behind, waiting in the dark hallway for him to return home, her arms crossed in front of her chest and her wand in her hand, ready to slice into his skin until the carpet beneath him was soaked with his blood.

His mother was not standing there, and Sirius reminded himself with a relieved breath that she would never be standing anywhere else ever again. She was dead, and that was a good thing. She was dead, and she would never come back to torment him or his br- No. Sirius would not allow himself to go there. Not now, not ever. Driven only by the desire to walk away from those thoughts, Sirius's feet carried him into the hallway. The carpet was thick with dust, swirling around their feet as he and Remus walked deeper into the house. They wrinkled their noses. Finally, the house smelled appropriately: of rot and mould.

The old oil lamps along the hallway flickered on at the wave of Remus's wand, and they both looked around. Remus had never been here, so his gaze was full of curiosity. Sirius, however, could not keep the disgust out of his eyes. Oh, how he hated this place. The contrast from back then to now was almost disorientating. The once sparkling chandelier was now barely visible beneath a dark layer of dust and cobwebs, the wallpaper was starting to peel off, and the colour of the portraits had faded with the years. It was fitting, somehow, that the house now reflected the rotten family that had once lived here. It gave Sirius a sense of joy, thinking about this place falling apart.

"I haven't been here in ages," he whispered unnecessarily, turning his head to look at Remus again, but the voice that filled the hallway next wasn't that of his boyfriend.

"SCUM! FILTH! TRAITOR!"

Every muscle in Sirius's body locked as he froze at the sound of the painfully familiar voice of his mother. His head whipped around, looking for the source. She's dead, he reminded himself like a mantra. She's dead, she's dead. But her screams were continuing, ringing in his ears, "DISGRACE OF MY BLOOD! HOW DARE YOU STEP FOOT INTO THIS HOUSE AGAIN! HOW DARE YOU BEFILE THIS HOUSE!"

Remus found the source of her wailing even before Sirius's muscles remembered how to work. He pulled the curtains in front of the painting shut, and the horrid screaming stopped. It was as if the Full Body-Bind Curse was lifted off of Sirius as soon as silence was restored. His wide eyes were glued to the dark curtains, and his heart was hammering in his ears. Before he could do anything to prevent it, his body convulsed, and vomit ripped out of him. Sirius doubled over, his hands on his thights, and threw up. Tears were filling his eyes, but he forced them down.

A soft hand touched his back, rubbing soothing circles while an even softer voice muttered a spell to clean up the mess. Sirius wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and straightened up. He sniffed and pursed his lips. He wanted no more of this. His mother was dead. She had been dead to him long before she had stopped breathing. The feeling had been mutual. He was long past being afraid of her. She was gone, and so were his father and his uncles and aunts. They had gotten what they deserved. Only he was still here - Sirius - and he would keep going for the same reason he had kept going in his youth: pure and utter spite.

"Should have left it there," he said to Remus, scowling at the spot on the carpet that was now cleaner than the rest. "Would have been a fitting addition to this lovely interior."

That earned him a soft chuckle from Remus. "I don't know what you mean," he said sarcastically. "Those tasteful snakes everywhere give the house such a... welcoming and homely feel."

Sirius snorted humorlessly. "This place is exactly how I imagine hell to look like." He glanced around. "By the way... Where's hell's keeper?"

Remus blinked and looked around as well. The house was quiet, too quiet. Sirius narrowed his eyes. As far as he could remember, there should be a house-elf in here somewhere. But the nasty little creature seemed to be hiding away, probably hoping that Sirius wouldn't remember him or even believe him to be dead. Sirius didn't believe that, though. It would be just too good to be true to see the house falling apart and the rude elf being gone.

"Kreacher!" he bellowed, the curtains around his mother's portrait opened, and her insults continued until Sirius pulled the curtains shut again.

With a soft crack, the old house-elf appeared in front of the two men, and after a quick, distasteful snarl up at both of them, Kreacher bowed low. "Master Black," he croaked, his voice filled with just as much loathing as Sirius remembered. "You have returned." Then, before Sirius could answer, Kreacher added under his breath, "Master should never have been allowed entrance to my poor mistress's home."

Sirius raised his eyebrows, then looked at Remus, who seemed just as confused. Had Kreacher lost his mind so much over the years that he now couldn't even distinguish which thoughts he said out loud and which he didn't? He looked quite distressed to have Sirius back in the house, but it could be nothing compared to how Sirius was feeling.

"Believe me, Kreacher," he said, keeping his voice low, "if it were up to me, I would never have returned."

Kreacher nodded once and bowed again, his nose touching the dirty carpet. "It is an honour to welcome you home, Master," he said out loud, then muttered, "Master brought his friend. Master brought an abomination into my mistress's house. Master Sirius is -"

"Shut up!" Sirius snarled through gritted teeth. "You will not speak about Remus this way. Is that clear? That is an order, Kreacher."

The elf bowed once more. "Yes, Master."

Remus drew in a sharp breath. "Listen, Sirius..." he said, but Sirius didn't listen. He wasn't done with Kreacher yet.

"Remus and I have business to attend to. Go to wherever it is you're hiding out these days and stay there until I tell you otherwise," Sirius ordered.

He was pleased to find the house-elf Disapparting again without another word, and a few seconds later, they heard clattering in the kitchen downstairs, pots and pans being moved, and a cupboard being shut. Sirius finally turned to Remus, who looked far beyond uncomfortable. He was fidgeting with the hem of his T-shirt and chewing on his bottom lip. Something about the sight of him being all nervous made Sirius fall even more in love with him. It was weird to see him in this house; as if Sirius had cut him out of a picture and stuck in here. Their eyes met, and all the emotions Sirius had tried to shove down suddenly boiled over.

"Do you want to -" Remus started, but Sirius interrupted him.

"I want to fuck you in every corner of this house," he said, and Remus's eyes widened. "I want to leave traces of us everywhere. I want to spit on the memories my mother left here. I want you to scream so loud when you cum that she can hear you."

Remus was already on him, his hands flying up to Sirius's hair. "Then do it," he breathed.

There was no need for more words. Their bodies collided, then their mouths, and then their tongues. Sirius steered the two of them to where he remembered the dining room to be. He had about ten seconds to look around and take in the room before he swiped everything off the long dining table - including more dust and dead spiders - to reveal the Black family crest. Ignoring it, he lifted Remus onto the table and stepped between his legs. Sirius couldn't get enough of him. Perhaps it was wrong of him to use sex as an outlet for his complicated emotions, but Remus needed only to say the word, and Sirius would stop.

As it was, Remus was far from complaining. He pulled Sirius closer and slipped his tongue into his mouth. Remus let himself be bent over the table, his chest right on top of the family crest. Sirius leaned over him, kissing his neck and behind his ear as he pushed into Remus, who gasped for air. Remus still wasn't used to this, so even though Sirius needed more, he forced himself to take it easy. He would never be able to forgive himself if he hurt Remus. The man's fingernails scratched the dark wood of the table as he came, moaning so loudly that the portrait out in the hall woke up again.

There was a grin on Sirius's lips as his horrid mother shrieked about befiling the noble name of her ancestors. Droplets of sweat were on Remus's forehead as he lifted himself off the table and turned around to Sirius. Remus kissed him, but his brow was furrowed, and Sirius knew what he was about to say next: Sirius hadn't finished. Not wanting to make a big deal out of this, Sirius kissed Remus again before he could say anything and pulled him so close that their pricks were touching. Remus sucked in a sharp breath, but he didn't speak.

"Come," Sirius said. After a quick, satisfied smirk at the cum stain on the old wooden table, he zipped up his trousers again and grabbed Remus's hand.

The two of them went back into the hallway, and, after forcing the curtains shut, Sirius showed his boyfriend through the house. He showed him the first floor, passing the lovely decor of dead house-elves on the staircase. Remus dropped his shorts in the bedroom, flicked his wand to clean the bed, and lay down on top of the sheets. Sirius followed him with a grin, climbing on top of him and fucking him until Remus was hoarse.

He showed him the bathroom, telling some overly elaborate story about stuffing whole toilet rolls down the drain so that it would cause a mess whenever they had visitors. He kept talking just so that Remus couldn't comment on Sirius not having finished again. Sirius kept the door to the drawing room closed. He would not step in there. On the second floor was another bedroom, but Sirius and Remus did not do anything in there; neither in the bathroom. One floor up in the master bedroom, Sirius reached for the button of his trousers, but Remus stopped him.

"Padfoot," he said, "you don't have to do this."

This seemed to be his credo today, and Sirius's was, "Yes, I do." But he couldn't say it. He only repeated it in his head a few times before sinking down on the bed and hiding his face in his hands. This house had ruined him once before, and he was afraid that it might happen again. It had taken him so many years to leave the person his parents had made him behind. It had taken him years, three Marauders, several other friends, and... and his brother. Of all these things, all that Sirius had left now was Remus, and as much as he hoped that that would be enough, he knew not to underestimate the horror of this house.

After James and Lily, after that one Halloween, Sirius's world had been reduced to black and white. Remus had brought colour back to him, the whole spectrum of it, brighter than a rainbow. He had drawn over all the grey parts of Sirius's life until everything was beautiful and colourful. This house was sucking all that colour away again. It had pricked a hole into the paint pot, and Sirius was forced to watch it leak.

"I'm sorry, Moony," he mumbled.

He felt the mattress sink beside him as Remus sat down. "Don't be silly," Remus said firmly. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

Sirius did, however, feel like he had. He was sorry that Remus had to see him like this, sorry that he wasn't able to at least pretend to be okay. Sirius's job was and always had been to bring joy and to make people forget about their own pain, not to add more of his. He was sorry because he knew that it would only get worse the longer he would have to stay here, the more he would have to think of this place as "home" again. But most of all, he was sorry for the look on Remus's face, for the sadness in his eyes that was there all for Sirius. He was so, so incedibly sorry for making Remus sad.

Even if Sirius had found the words to say all this, he wouldn't have gotten the chance to say them out loud because the doorbell rang, causing Mrs Black to scream downstairs again. Sirius sighed and pushed himself to his feet again. Remus glanced up at him for a moment, and he looked as though he was about to say something, but Sirius shook his head. "Not right now, Moony," he said. "We'll talk later, I promise. Order business first."

Remus nodded and - thankfully - didn't say another word until they opened the front door, and he greeted Dumbledore. The old man looked around for a moment, and then his lips curved into a smile. "And you are sure that this is what you want to do with this house?" he asked Sirius.

Even Remus looked at Sirius, waiting for an answer. Sirius straightened up, squaring his shoulders, and said, "Yes. It's what my family would have hated most, so yes, I am absolutely sure that this is what I want."

That made Remus smile a little, and he turned back to Dumbledore. "Hm, alright," the Headmaster said, looking around again. "There is certainly enough room. We could finally have all under one roof. Molly will probably want the kids to stay, but if that is too much..."

Sirius shook his head. "No, that would be nice, I think. Bring a little life to this dreary old place."

Dumbledore smiled again. They went down to the kitchen, where Sirius threw Kreacher into the hallway, and the men went over the logistics for a while. Upon Remus's comment that a lot of cleaning would have to be done before they could even think of doing anything else here, Dumbledore nodded, deep in thought. "Yes, I suppose so," he muttered. "I will talk to Molly. I'm sure she wouldn't mind her children having some work over the holidays."

And that was that. Dumbledore would take care of everything else, relaying the new location of headquarters to the other members of the Order. He said that he would drop by over the next few days with Alastor Moody to put more security on the house and make it unplottable. Remus nodded along enthusiastically, probably cataloguing and saving every new plan and detail in his mind. Sirius, however, was still thinking about the portrait of his mother - or rather, the woman who had given birth to him. She had never really been a mother. He hadn't seen her in so long. In Azkaban, he had been forced to hear her voice every night, but to actually hear it? Not just in his head? That was a horror he hadn't thought he would ever have to live through again.

"Sir?" Sirius said quickly when Dumbledore mentioned the Weasley kids again. Dumbledore turned his bright blue eyes on Sirius. "What about Harry?"

By his side, Sirius felt Remus stiffen. The two of them had had that conversation a fair few times before, and it had always ended with Sirius fuming and Remus trying to calm him down. They both wanted Harry here with them, but with every letter that Sirius wrote, he gritted his teeth and told Harry that Little Whinging was the safest place for him. Wait for further instructions. As if that wasn't enough to make Sirius angry, let alone Harry, who had the same knack for trouble and disregard for rules.

"Will he be allowed to come?" Sirius asked.

Dumbledore smiled, and Sirius clenched his fists underneath the table. Remus put his hand on one of them to remind Sirius to be calm. His emotions were so close to the surface in this house, like blood pearling along a fresh cut. "When the time is right," Dumbledore said with a solem nod.

What does that mean? Sirius asked himself. Is that a yes or a bloody no?

"Sir." Remus spoke before Sirius could. "Don't you think he would be safe here? If you're making the house unplottable..." He let his voice trail off suggestively.

Dumbledore nodded again. "Yes, that is, in fact, a good point. But there is no greater protection than that of his aunt. When all is settled, then he might be able to come by. But Sirius," he said sternly. "Remember to stick to what we discussed. Harry must not go wandering off. Do not encourage him." The old man turned to Remus. "You have always been the reasonable one, Remus. I trust you keep an eye on them?"

As Sirius pressed his lips together in disapproval, Remus replied, "I think you have it wrong, Sir. I have never been the reasonable one. I'm merely the one who got away with most things."

Sirius grinned.

Chapter Text

Remus felt as though a dark cloud had settled over his and Sirius's life. Although he had previously assumed that the return of Lord Voldemort would throw their lives out of balance and cast them into darkness, he hadn't expected the return to Grimmauld Place to be what did it in the end. Remus was quite at a loss for what to do. Sirius had gotten quiet over the past few days since their arrival at Grimmauld Place. Remus couldn't blame him; he could only begin to imagine how horrible it must be for Sirius to be back here. He only wished Sirius would talk to him... Dumbledore had brought by Buckbeak, who was now living in the master bedroom, and the more days passed and the members of the Order of the Phoenix settled into the new place, Remus observed Sirius withdrawing to that room more and more.

For days, while it was still just the two of them in that big house, they didn't have a designated spot to sleep in. Mostly, they would just sleep wherever Sirius managed to fall asleep. He was awake more hours of the day again, and the dark circles under his eyes were starting to come back. But when it so happened that he fell asleep with his head in Remus's lap while he read The Lord of the Rings to him, Remus smiled down at him, closed the book, and shut his eyes as well.

It went like this every day, in all the most random places in the house. If Sirius was really truly tired - and he so often was these days because he couldn't find any real rest here - he was even able to fall asleep hunched over the kitchen table. However, it had already been agreed that the Weasleys would most likely be staying full-time in the near future, and Remus knew that Sirius was already dreading to have to move to an actual room to sleep in. The most likely one for them was, Remus knew, Sirius's very own bedroom. He hadn't mentioned it to Sirius yet, but he knew that the day would come.

It came a week after Dumbledore's visit, two days before the Weasley's would temporarily move in. Sirius was sitting on the dusty staircase; Remus had found him there many times these days. It gave him the feeling that Sirius wanted to go upstairs to his room, but he could only manage to get so far. Remus sighed and sank down next to his boyfriend. He softly put his hand on Sirius's knee, showing him with just a touch that he was here and that Sirius wasn't alone. Remus hesitated for a moment, thinking carefully about what he could say, but Sirius spoke first.

"You don't have to look after me," he said, keeping his eyes straight ahead. "I'll be fine on my own."

"That's just the thing," Remus replied instantly. "You don't have to." Sirius turned his head to look at him, and Remus wasn't surprised to find his eyes red-rimmed from tiredness and suppressed tears. "I'm here, Padfoot. This isn't like back then. You've got me."

Sirius sighed and shook his head. "You don't get it," he muttered and made to get up.

Just at that moment, Remus decided that he was sick of it. For days, he had let Sirius wallow, let him hide away in that dark room with Buckbeak. He had let him lick his wounds. Because he knew. Remus knew that this was horrible for Sirius, and he knew that too many memories were clinging to this place. But he was tired of Sirius shutting him out, of him spending more time with the bloody hippogriff than with Remus. Remus was trying, but he couldn't help someone who wouldn't let himself be helped. It was like they were right back where they had started months ago.

Remus grabbed the back of Sirius's shirt and stopped him from getting up. "Then make me get it," he demanded. "I can't keep sitting here and pretending that you're not miserable."

"You can't help me, Remus!" Sirius's voice was rising, and Remus froze. "This isn't something you can get rid of with kisses and nice words. This is in me! I'll always be miserable and cruel because that's who I am! That's what this fucking place made me!"

For a moment, Remus was rendered speechless. He looked at Sirius, who avoided his eye. "Do you really think that's true?" Remus asked in a soft voice.

Sirius's eyes snapped to his. They looked so, so hurt and confused, and it shattered Remus's heart. The world had been so horrible to this kind soul. He had been put through the ringer from a young age on, and he had had to fight battles no child ever should. Whenever Sirius got a moment to breathe and relax when everything seemed fine, the world turned right back around and hit him again. They had been happy even, and then a war had started, taking the life of his brother. Sirius had never really moved on from that, but he had learned to cope. And then James and Lily died and Sirius was locked away for their murder which he hadn't committed. Sirius got free, and he came to Remus's, and then... Then, he was sent here. He never should have had to go through this much. If anyone deserved a win, it was Sirius. So why couldn't he see that?

"I know that it's true," Sirius said, but his voice was calm again. He sounded almost ashamed; either of what he was saying or what he was feeling, or maybe of both.

A sad smile flitted across Remus's lips, and he sighed. "It's not, my love," he insisted. "You might not realise it, Sirius, but you're not miserable and cruel. What this place has made you is kind and loving and gentle. They taught you what not to be, and you embody everything they weren't. You're beautiful, Sirius. Inside and out."

There was a moment of silence in which Remus closely studied his boyfriend's face, hoping that his words would be heard. He hoped that Sirius would accept what Remus was telling him. They couldn't keep going in circles like this; it would break them both someday, so Sirius had to believe that the good things about him were there, too. He had to accept that he wasn't a bad person.

After a second, Sirius shook his head. Hope was a little balloon inside of Remus, and the little shake of Sirius's head was the pin, pricking a hole in it. "No, I..." Sirius hesitated. "I can't talk about this."

He got to his feet, and before Remus could make his body react, Sirius was already hurrying down the stairs. "Sirius, talk to me!" Remus begged helplessly. "You can't keep shutting me out."

But Sirius rounded the staircase and vanished out of sight. A second later, Remus heard a door shut. Sirius was with Buckbeak again. Remus buried his face in his hands and held back sobs. Was this what their life was going to be like from now on? As he sat there on that staircase, Remus wondered whether Sirius would ever really talk to him again. It felt as though they were drifting apart. This house and those memories had wedged themselves between Remus and Sirius, and he could feel that things were rearranging. Sirius was changing again, and Remus didn't like what he was changing into: the same Sirius he had met on the train ride back to Hogwarts for their sixth year. Remus knew where this was going; he had seen it before. And he was afraid of it because this time, he couldn't just run down to Slytherin house to get help. The only person who had been able to pull Sirius back to the light last time was now long gone.

For a while, Remus stayed on the stairs, listening to Kreacher shuffling about and the eerie sounds of the old house. A shiver ran down his spine. This place really was bloody dreadful. He couldn't even imagine having to grow up in a place like this, so far removed from love and warmth. It was a wonder Sirius had turned out the way he did. He could just as well have turned mean and spiteful. It was a shame that he couldn't see that himself.

After a long time, when his legs were starting to fall asleep, Remus got up and walked downstairs. He hesitated in front of the closed door behind which Sirius was still hiding, but he didn't knock. Instead, he sighed and made his way farther down to the kitchen. If Sirius didn't want to talk, then Remus was done forcing him. He would do anything for his boyfriend, but he refused to keep running after him. If Sirius wanted help, he had to learn how to ask for it. He had to figure that part out on his own. All the other things, Remus could and would help with, but he was tired of feeling like a burden. Didn't he deserve to feel wanted, too, sometimes?

Remus's arrival in the kitchen interrupted Kreacher's manic mumbling and rummaging through a cupboard. The elf straightened up, his round eyes landing on Remus and narrowing. "Does Sir wish for Kreacher to prepare him dinner?" he croaked, obviously wishing to be anywhere else in the world and do anything other than make dinner for his disgraced master's werewolf boyfriend.

As Remus was far from in the mood of being with someone who didn't want him there, he shook his head and said, "No, thanks. I'll just see what I can whip up."

Kreacher, obviously not caring whether Remus cooked for himself or starved to death, was already muttering something about "filthy halfbreeds" under his breath again as he moved out of the kitchen. Remus sighed. The kitchen was annoyingly empty, and anything that might have been edible at some point was already far beyond suitable for consumption now. A lack of groceries was no big deal for a wizard, but Remus enjoyed the mundanity of going shopping for them like a Muggle in a store with other people who also needed to eat. But sometimes, even Remus appreciated the convenience of owl delivery. Maybe he would go to the store tomorrow.

"If I'm allowed out..." he mumbled to himself, then shook his head, feeling sympathetic to Kreacher being driven mad enough to talk to himself.

Dumbledore wasn't planning on keeping Remus locked up in here long-term, but the two of them had agreed that it would be better for him to stay until Sirius was less of a flight risk. They couldn't risk him going outside even just to sneak to the small square across the street as soon as Remus was out of the house. He could endanger the entire Order, giving away their Headquarters, if the wrong person saw him and recognised him. It only took one look to realise who he was. Even the Muggles had been alerted after his breakout, so he wasn't even safe from their eyes.

After his very meagre dinner, which Sirius had declined to take part in, Remus settled down on the sofa. The house had gotten even more quiet; Kreacher must be settling down to sleep now somewhere as well. Remus looked around the room, sighing at the dusty furniture and creature-infested curtains. It had taken them several cleaning spells to free this sofa alone, and Remus wasn't looking forward to the dirt that must be hidden in the rest of the house and in the rooms he hadn't entered yet.

Like Sirius's room, for example. Remus wondered whether Sirius would show him his room someday. Would Remus just enter it on his own if Sirius didn't? As boys, they had often fantasised about coming to visit Sirius during the holidays, but it had never happened. His family had kept a strict eye on him, and it had only gotten worse after his Sorting into Gryffindor. There had always been someone around to report Sirius's activities and whereabouts back to his parents. He had oftentimes complained about not having any bloody privacy in that house because his secrets had always somehow managed their ways back to his mother, whom he had been keeping them from in the first place. He had jokingly told the Marauders that he didn't even know who to trust anymore in that house, which the others hadn't found quite as funny.

Although Remus had picked up his book, intending to read a little until he felt tired, he fell asleep without even having opened the page. He jumped awake again after a long time, his neck stiff from being in the same position for too long. After blinking twice, Remus realised what had woken him: Padfoot was draped over his lap, his head resting on his paws as he looked up at Remus with big, tired eyes. Remus sighed yet again, shaking his head a little. Well, that's a start, he thought. At least Sirius was here - in one form or another - even if him showing up as Padfoot meant that he didn't want to talk. Remus leaned his head back and closed his eyes again, putting his hands into the soft fur of the dog. He let the warmth envelop him and drifted off again.

The next time he woke up, he was disoriented for longer than two blinks. The long shade from the big window in the living room was gone, and so was the feeling of the uncomfortable sofa. Remus was lying on his side, wrapped in soft sheets that rustled as he lifted his head. There was a tiny sliver of light coming through the window, but it was just barely enough to allow Remus to make out the shape of Sirius on the edge of what he qickly came to recognise as a bed. Remus frowned. As far as he remembered, the rooms downstairs were differently furnished. He couldn't remember the beds being on this side of the room. Maybe he was confused? But then his eyes fell on a red banner, which Remus most certainly had never seen in this house. His eyes widened as it suddenly hit him where he was.

He sat up. "Sirius?" Remus asked gently, careful not to startle the man at the foot of the bed with his back to him. How long had he been sitting there? Had he carried Remus all the way up here and then just... sat down?

"He used to cry at night."

Sirius's voice was soft and low, and it froze Remus to the very core. In an instant, he knew who he was talking about. Remus didn't move a muscle, not wanting to risk Sirius stopping whatever he was about to tell him. This was what Sirius needed, and he was finally ready.

"We were told not to, but he was still so small," he continued, more to himself than to Remus. "At first, I snuck into his room and calmed him down. No child should have to whisper to his little brother to stop crying before mummy gets mad again. After a while, he came to my room. Whenever he had a bad dream or just couldn't sleep, he curled up at the foot of my bed and stayed there. I never told him that it helped me sleep, too, to have him there. I should have told him.

"When I got older, and he got older, we drifted apart. He had his friends, and they heard things from their families, so he heard things from them. It wasn't his fault. And it wasn't theirs, either. I should have told him that, too. But we lived in different worlds. He was the favourite son, the pride and glory of the Black family. I was the traitor. I started locking my door at night because I didn't feel safe, and locking it gave me some sense of control, even if it was just an illusion. Sometimes, I would find him asleep on the floor in front of my door. I wish I had stopped locking my door, then. I should have stopped locking it.

"But it would have been worse had she found us out. If she knew that we were sleeping in the same bed because we were scared to be alone, she would have been worse. She would have hurt him."

Sirius's voice broke, and his shoulders started to shake, but Remus still didn't say anything. He only let Sirius get it all off his chest. As much as he wanted, as much as he needed.

"I was used to it. I took the beatings and the curses, and I made them my armour. But he... He was so fragile. I couldn't let anything like that happen to him. So I acted out, started listening to my music on full volume, and dressed in Muggle clothes in front of her. I did the worst so that he could do a little bad and still go unnoticed."

Finally, Sirius broke down crying, hiding his face in his hands. Remus crawled up behind him and put his arms around him, holding him so tightly that he hoped all the pieces that were coming loose would stay in place.

"I should have protected him more! I should have -" Sirius's sobs swallowed up the rest of his sentence.

"Shh," Remus soothed, rubbing his hand up and down Sirius's arm. "It's okay."

And then, in one final sob, Sirius said, for the first time in fifteen years, the name of his brother. Remus's heart tore in two at the sound of the cry, like a plea for help. And maybe it was. Maybe Sirius was begging his brother to come and pull him out of this hole again, to lie down at the foot of his bed just one more time and help him fall asleep.

"Regulus!"

Chapter Text

Sirius was glad that the Weasley kids and Hermione were bringing a little life into the dreary old house. He was also glad for the distraction the presence of the family offered. After his rather embarassing late-night monologue to Remus (which neither of them had addressed again), Sirius would find himself sitting in the drawing room often at night, looking at the picture of his little brother on the tapestry; just looking because he didn't have the right words to say yet. But during the days, there was barely a minute of quiet where he could allow his mind to wander. Molly was running a tight ship, keeping them exceptionally busy with cleaning the house.

The kitchen was the first room to tackle, which Remus sincerely encouraged because he was sick of finding rotten food in every crevice. Molly was more concerned with the Doxys hiding away in the curtains and cupboards. She refused to eat any food as long as it was prepared in that dirty kitchen, so they spent days working on it. Fred and George were no big help since they were much more interested in the Dark artifacts than in the process of cleaning. They were keeping Sirius entertained, though, so he kept quiet about their mischief. It wasn't like he wouldn't get up to some trouble himself if he got the chance.

As days passed and the Weasleys settled in more, other members of the Order came and went, occasionally dropping by with some news or offering a hand with the cleaning. After a week, once the kitchen and the first-floor bedroom were as clean as the house allowed, Remus told Sirius that he would be going away tomorrow. They were lying in bed on their sides, facing each other. Sirius had put on an old record that he had found under his bed, and the low music was shielding them from potential eavesdropping, although everyone in the house knew that the topmost landing was off-limits for them. He frowned upon hearing the news. Remus was leaving?

"Where are you going?" he asked. Surely he wouldn't go if he didn't have to. Right? "You're not going because of me, are you? I know I haven't been right lately, but..."

"I'm gonna stop you right there, Padfoot," Remus interrupted him with a soft smile. "You did nothing wrong. I have to go. It's for the Order."

Sirius felt that he could breathe a little easier, knowing that Remus wasn't cross with him, but there was still something heavy in the pit of his stomach when he thought about being separated from his boyfriend. They had been together for so long now, Sirius could barely remember what it was like not to have him around. And to be in here, in this house, without Remus? He didn't know if he could do it. There was a darkness here that only hadn't managed to swallow Sirius up yet because of the light that Remus brought with him. But with him gone and Sirius remaining in the darkness of the memories in this house? He wasn't sure if he would be able to find his way back to the light.

"You won't be alone. Molly and the kids are still here, and I'm sure Mundungus will come by, too. You think he's hilarious, so..." Remus tried, but he suddenly sounded very worried that Sirius wasn't taking the news of his departure well.

Does he expect me to break down again? Sirius wondered. Did Remus feel like Sirius's crying sessions were becoming routine? Was he losing his mind for everyone to see? Sirius sighed. He didn't want to be the bloke you had to walk on eggshells around. He had never been that bloke, and he certainly wouldn't start now. He was too old to be wrapped in bubble wrap and coddled like something frail and breakable.

"I'll be fine, Moony," he replied, sounding more annoyed than he was. Mostly, he was annoyed with himself for having let his tantrums go that far, but he could also feel a tiny spark of annoyance at Remus. Couldn't he treat Sirius like a grown-up for once?

Remus smiled carefully and nodded. They were silent for a while, looking at each other until their eyelids grew heavy. But even when Remus was sound asleep, breathing calmly through slightly parted lips, Sirius refused to let sleep pull him under. It was like his body could remember all the horrible things that had happened to him in this house but forgot that the people who did those things to him were gone. It was like he expected his mother to blast open his door and set the record player on fire. He lay awake for hours, not taking his eyes off where he knew the door was in the darkness. His mother never came, of course, but the fear stayed.

Even with Remus out of the house, the cleaning commenced. Molly was determined to tackle the bedrooms next so that she could stop worrying about the children finding some Dark item and getting themselves hurt. Not that Fred and George weren't actively seeking those things out. Sirius caught them trying to sneak a cursed book to their room, and they met his eye and grinned mischievously. They knew that he wouldn't go running to their mother about it, but even so, Sirius couldn't let them use that book. Despite himself, he stuck out his hand and sighed.

"I hate to do his, boys, but I have to," he said apologetically. "You could get seriously hurt with this. Wizards far more evil and powerful than you have fallen victim to this book's spell. Give it here, and I won't tell your mum."

The twins shared a look, clearly debating whether to hand it over or not, but George sighed and pulled it out from under his jumper, handing it to Sirius. Immediately, he could feel his palm buzzing with the power of the curse, and he tucked it under his arm. He nodded with pride and approval and waved the boys off, telling them to help the others.

"And no more books!" he called after them, but they had already Apparated downstairs and were out of earshot. Sirius shook his head and turned on his heel. He had been about to go to feed Buckbeak, but now he had to get rid of this book first.

As he made his way down the hallway to where Molly, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny were sorting out one of the bedrooms, he glanced down at the book. "Captivating Charms" was the title. Sirius remembered with a flash how he had once picked the book off the shelf even before he was tall enough to reach it without balancing on a chair, and his father had snatched the book out of his hands.

"This isn't a book for children, Sirius!" he had snapped, furious. "It will keep you trapped forever. Do you want that?" Sirius had shaken his head, of course, scared of being trapped in a book, let alone one that looked as scary as this one. "Good. Then don't be a naughty boy and keep your hands off," his father had snapped.

Now, Sirius sneered down at the book. He tossed it into the bag that was already filled with objects that his family had kept. Molly thanked him, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder, and then flicked her wand at the inside of the dresser. "Oh, it's no use!" she cried. "It won't come off!"

Sirius raised his eyebrows and joined her, peering down into the drawer. There was a bracelet, which glowed in a suspicious light. Warmth was pouring off the metal, palpable even though Sirius wasn't touching it. He recognised the bracelet as an old Slytherin heirloom of his uncle's. It would have gone to him had he been sorted into the house of his ancestors, but since Sirius had chosen his own path, the bracelet had never found its way into his possession. Until now, at least. He looked at it for a moment, wondering why his brother hadn't gotten it after Sirius had turned out to be a disappointment.

"Let me," he said and lifted his hand.

Molly yelped when he touched the bracelet, worried that his hand might rot and fall off or something, but her eyes widened when nothing happened to Sirius. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny moved closer. "She's been at it for half an hour," Ron breathed. "How did you do that?"

Sirius shrugged and closed his fist around the bracelet. "It's a Black family object. It won't hurt me or anyone from my blood, " he explained.

He could tell from the looks on their faces that they were expecting him to get sentimental about finding a family heirloom, but he only threw it into the bag and marched out of the room without a second thought. He didn't want anything in here. He didn't care about some bracelet, no matter how many generations of Blacks had worn it before him. Had they wanted him to have it, they would have given it to him despite his Hogwarts house.

"Or maybe they should have given it to Regulus," Sirius grumbled under his breath. He rounded the corner and almost stumbled over Kreacher. The elf was looking up at him with big eyes, for the first time not spewing insults. "Kreacher, what -"

"Master Sirius remembers him," Kreacher interrupted him. Sirius frowned. "Master thought Master Sirius might have forgotten. Kreacher thought Master Sirius might have forgotten."

Sirius frowned. He didn't think he might have forgotten anyone. But hadn't Kreacher said Master? Who-? Sirius's eyes widened. Oh. Master Regulus. "Forgotten who, Kreacher?" he demanded.

"Master Regulus thought Master Sirius might have forgotten him," the house-elf said again, his eyes glazing over as he remembered something. Then, he sank his head and started to walk past Sirius, mumbling to himself, "He would have come back. He must have forgotten me. Otherwise, he would come back."

The air was knocked out of Sirius. He stood rooted to the spot for a moment, unable to breathe or think or do anything at all. Air was in short supply, not reaching his brain, and he started to feel light-headed. Had Regulus been waiting for him to come back? Had he wanted Sirius to save him? That made no sense. Regulus had joined the Death Eaters willingly. He hadn't been forced into it. All their parents had to do was nudge him in that direction, but he had taken the jump all on his own. So he had known that there was no future for him and Sirius. Regulus wouldn't have joined the Order of the Phoenix, and Sirius wouldn't have joined the Death Eaters. And yet...

As Sirius sat down on the floor next to Buckbeak, he was still thinking about his brother. He wished he could talk to him. But even more than that, he wished he had talked to him back then, too. He should have asked him whether he was happy. But then again, it hadn't been about that, had it? Sirius hadn't been happy, either. He certainly wasn't happy now. But he knew that he was on the right side. He knew that he was fighting for what he believed in. So even if Regulus hadn't been happy, he had chosen his side. He had fought and died for what he had believed in. And that was the bottom line.

Sirius did not think about this for several days, and he kept the door to the drawing room firmly closed, unable to stand the thought of seeing his brother's face when his feelings about him were so torn. Remus came back to Sirius as promised, bringing him a bag of Every Flavour Beans, which he had picked up on Diagon Alley because he knew that Sirius missed them. But Remus's return rather than the sweets were what brought a small smile back to Sirius's face for the first time in days. He wrapped his arms around the man and pulled him aside into the dining room.

Remus chuckled a little surprised as Sirius kissed him. "Sirius," he breathed, "we shouldn't -"

"The others are all on the third floor," Sirius interrupted him and kissed him again. "They're so busy with the Doxys that they won't notice I'm gone for a few minutes."

Remus looked a little uncertain still, but he let Sirius kiss his neck and take off his coat without any more protest. Remus softly put his hands to the sides of Sirius's face and smiled into the kiss. "I missed you," he whispered.

Sirius brushed his nose against Remus's, his eyes still closed. "I missed you, too," he replied breathlessly. He couldn't even describe how much he had missed Remus. It was as if breathing became easier when he was with him, as if life wasn't so dull and miserable. Being with Remus made being in this house bearable. It was only because he knew that Remus would be back soon that Sirius hadn't gone mad already.

Their private moment was interrupted, however, when Molly's voice rang from upstairs, "Sirius, get that elf of yours under control!" Followed by Hermione's cry of, "Mrs Weasley, he doesn't mean any harm!"

Sirius sighed and rolled his eyes, dropping his forehead to Remus's shoulder. Remus chuckled and ran his fingers through Sirius's hair before patting him on the back in an encouraging manner. "Come on," he said with a smile, "we have things to do."

"Yes, you," Sirius whined, but he let Remus pull away from him nonetheless. "I want to do you."

Remus laughed, and only now did Sirius notice the dark circles under his eyes. Had Remus slept just as horribly as Sirius while he had been away? He didn't get to ask because Remus ran his tongue over his bottom lip, eyeing Sirius with a rather hungry look, which was enough to empty Sirius's mind. They hadn't had sex since their first arrival here. Mostly because Sirius hadn't been in the mood, but also because he felt that letting out his frustration through sex wasn't fair to Remus. But now, he wanted to do it not out of frustration but out of pure desire. He had missed Remus so much, and they had only been separated for a couple of days.

But Remus shook his head as though to clear those kinds of thoughts out of his head. "Now that would give the kids something to talk about," he noted, sounding slightly amused. "Finding us on the dinner table like that..."

Sirius snorted and opened the door to the hallway, showing Remus out. "We sleep in the same room. I don't think it's such a mystery anymore," he pointed out.

Remus nodded as he headed upstairs. "Yes, well, Molly and Arthur might be suspecting it, but the kids? They probably think we're just sleeping on the same floor and not in the same room, let alone the same bed. I don't think they got that figured out yet." As they reached the first landing, Remus added with a sideways glance at Sirius, "And I'd like it to stay that way."

Sirius stopped in his tracks, right where Kreacher's predecessors were staring at them with unseeing eyes. Of course, he had thought plenty about how to go about this relationship with Remus now that the Order and the Weasleys were in the house as well. They had been sort of unconsciously been keeping it a secret, not wanting to hold hands and kiss in front of the others. Sirius wanted to keep this to himself for a little while longer, wanting their bubble to remain. But hearing Remus say it like this made him wonder whether Remus had another motive. Was he ashamed?

"I don't want them to know before Harry does," Remus explained then, and Sirius's heart picked up speed. Remus was right about that, but that brought up a whole different concern.

"Right," he breathed. "Harry..." Sirius looked away for a moment, and Remus moved towards him. "What do you think he'd -"

"He'd be happy," Remus broke him off, his voice sounding very determined. Sirius met his eyes. "He'd be happy for you, Sirius."

Slowly, Sirius nodded. Yeah, he thought, he probably will. Harry was a good kid with a pure heart. He wouldn't mind that Sirius liked men. Besides, Harry liked Remus, too, so he would be happy for them both. If he was anything like James, he'd do a dance of joy upon finding out that those two finally figured their feelings out. If only James could see them now...

"So we'll tell him?" Sirius asked hopefully.

Remus nodded and smiled sympathetically. "Of course, we'll tell him. When the time is right. And uhm... you're okay with keeping it a secret until then? Not that I wouldn't want to snog you in front of everyone, but -"

"No, I'm okay," Sirius interrupted him, grinning. "It's rather exciting this way."

Remus let out a soft laugh, shaking his head, and they carried on upstairs to find the others in one of the bedrooms. Mrs Weasley was wrestling with Kreacher, trying to get something out of his grubby little hands, while Hermione kept squealing not to hurt him, and Ron, Ginny, and the twins were roaring with laughter. Sirius's lips quirked into a smile.

"Kreacher!" he bellowed, and the elf stiffened but didn't let go of what Sirius realised was an old music box. His heart stuttered. This wasn't supposed to be here. How had it gotten to this room? "Kreacher, let it go."

Reluctantly, but without having another choice, Kreacher released the music box, and Molly stumbled a little backwards at the sudden loss of resistance. She pursed her lips at the elf, who threw one insult after another at her. Ignoring him, she turned to throw out the object in her hands, but Sirius stopped her.

"Molly, I think better take this," he said.

The kids were all looking from him to Mrs Weasley as if they were watching a game of sports. Remus, too, frowned at Sirius's request. "This could be dangerous, Sirius," Molly chastised. "We had another one just like this that put us to sleep."

But Sirius insisted. He approached her, holding out his hand. "Then maybe I'll finally get a full night of sleep," he said sarcastically and heard Fred and George snort. "That's my problem then, isn't it?" And Remus's, he thought to himself.

"I don't think this is funny at all," Molly snapped, holding the music box out of reach. "You're setting a bad example for my children. Look at their faces!" She pointed at the twins, who were wearing expressions of utter glee and amusement. "If they start thinking it's okay to start taking whatever Dark object they wish..."

"These aren't my children to set a good example for," Sirius retorted. Molly stiffened at the stern tone in his voice, and Sirius could see Remus doing the same slightly behind him. "And incidentally, the thing you're holding belongs to me anyway, as does anything else in this house. So, as its rightful owner, I'm telling you to hand it over."

"Sirius..." Remus whispered from behind him but didn't say anything else.

Obviously shocked at Sirius's demanding tone, Molly finally placed the music box in his open palm. She narrowed her eyes at him as Sirius held the object close to his chest. "I will speak to Dumbledore about this. We are trying to make this house safer and fit to hold meetings in, but we might as well give it up altogether if you insist on claiming ownership on every dangerous item as you so please."

"This isn't dangerous!" Sirius roared, finally managing to shut her (and Kreacher) up. His blood was fire in his veins, and he could feel his heart thundering in his chest. "It's just a music box, for Merlin's sake! So give it a rest!"

Without waiting for a response, Sirius stormed out of the room and up the stairs to the fourth floor. He heard footsteps following him, but he was far too angry to check who they belonged to. Who did Molly think she was? For days, Sirius had not only let her but even encouraged her to throw out anything she could get her hands on. He didn't want to keep anything in this house. For all he cared, she could set the whole damn thing on fire. But he wanted one thing - ONE thing - and she lost her head. And threatening to run to Dumbledore about this? Was she mental? Because of a silly little music box that wasn't even cursed? Sirius laughed bitterly to himself as he slammed open the bedroom door.

He stopped cold as he came to face the room which had changed quite a bit since he had last been in here many years ago. Slowly and carefully, as if he might burst into flames at any second, Sirius took a step inside, keeping his eyes on the unfamiliar addition to the room: several newspaper clippings about Voldemort on the wall. Quite proud of his master, wasn't he? Sirius thought darkly, tightening his fingers around the music box. Despite what he had said to Mrs Weasley and despite what was technically true, Sirius didn't actually consider himself as the owner of this music box. As far as he was concerned, it belonged to -

"Was that his?"

Sirius turned around to find that Remus was the one who had followed him up here. He probably hadn't expected Sirius to come to this room instead of his own, and Sirius could see that Remus was a little uncomfortable to be standing in the doorway. No wonder he had waited this long to say something. His eyes were on the thing in Sirius's hands.

"His?" Sirius repeated, smiling sadly. "You mean Regulus's?" Remus nodded wordlessly, obviously not having expected Sirius to be so casual with the name, but he didn't know that Sirius's stomach turned when he said it out loud. "Yes. It's his."

He walked deeper into the room, and for a moment, it was as if he had stepped into another world. Another time. The room still smelled like him - that sweet smell, like candles and dried roses, and the sharp scent of parchment and ink from his countless books and plans scattered about the room. He smelled like a memory just barely out of reach, something you weren't sure you had ever really touched. Sirius hadn't realised that until this very moment, he had forgotten what his little brother had smelled like. He half expected him to barge through the door, telling Sirius off for entering his room without permission.

"You should learn a better locking charm, then, Reggie," Sirius would smirk, and Regulus would retort with a well-placed French curse word.

Shaking the thought away, Sirius carefully placed the music box on the black wooden dresser. He looked at it for a second, letting his shaking fingertips glide over the smooth, black box. Closing his eyes to stop them from welling with tears, Sirius could almost hear him. Unlike the smell, he had never forgotten the sound of his brother's voice.

"Come, play with me, Sirius. Mummy said you can't leave your room, but she won't know if you just sneak across the landing. Come, I want to show you the new book I got. I promise I won't tell."

"You should listen to her, Sirius. She won't be as awful if you just do what she says. Look at me; I manage to get by just fine. She's not as cruel to me as she is to you because I pretend to be who she wants me to be. You're just making it unnecessarily hard for yourself."

"I never hated you for who you are. Then why do you hate me for who I am?"

Sirius pressed his eyes shut, forcing the voice out of his head. No.

"So, it's not dangerous like Molly says?" Remus's voice pulled Sirius back to the present, and he opened his eyes again.

He shook his head, laughing softly. "No," he said and lifted the top of the little black object. "It's just a music box."

Soft piano notes floated out of the box, and the hairs on the back of Sirius's neck rose. The music box might not put the listener to sleep, but it carried a far more painful curse for Sirius: memories. Memories that pierced him like a dagger and threatened to rip him open and let him bleed out on the dark green carpet. The song was slow and old and French, and Sirius could hear Regulus singing along like he had done so often. From the corner of his eye, Sirius saw Remus taking a step towards him from where he had stayed in the doorframe, but Sirius cringed back, and Remus immediately froze.

"No, I -" Sirius turned to look at Remus. At his boyfriend. The love of his life. And he knew that if he were to hide away now, he would lose Remus. Slowly but surely, Remus would pull away. Sirius didn't want that. So he sighed, sinking his head, and whispered, "Please don't go."

Remus sighed as well. "I could say the same to you."

That was all it took to make Sirius understand. He nodded, crossed the distance between them, and wrapped his arms around Remus, pulling him in. Regulus's smell was drowned out by the one of Remus, which was much more potent since he hadn't had time for a shower since getting back. The song ended, and as the two of them stumbled backward onto the landing, Sirius pulled the door shut behind himself, shutting the memories of his brother away completely. Kissing, they somehow found their way to Sirius's own bedroom and closed yet another door.

"I love you," Sirius whispered.

He could feel Remus grin against his lips. "Looks like you get to do me after all." 

Chapter Text

Sirius's grin twenty-five minutes later lasted all the way from his bed to one flight down where the Weasleys and Hermione were still cleaning. Remus came trailing after him into the room, but he wasn't speaking. Sirius knew that it was only because if Remus opened his mouth now, he wouldn't be able to keep the unusual cheerfulness from his voice, and that would make the others suspicious. Especially since they had left in an angry state of mind earlier, and they wouldn't be able to explain their change of mood in such a short time.

Molly ignored them as they entered, and Remus gave Sirius a stern look that clearly told him to apologise to her. Sirius rolled his eyes, but he cleared his throat nonetheless. Mrs Weasley, very stubborn at times, continued to avoid his eye and swish her wand to dust off the thick old curtains, which they had de-Doxied earlier. Sirius cast a helpless glance at the children, who merely shrugged and gave him sympathetic smiles.

Insistent, Sirius cleared his throat again and said, "Molly, I'm sorry for how I spoke to you earlier."

Finally, she straightened up and turned to look at him through narrowed eyes. "That's perfectly fine," she said, though it was clear to everyone that she didn't mean it. "You have made your standpoint perfectly clear. This is your house, and we shall all ask for permission before we do or touch anything. We understand that now."

Sirius frowned, glancing at the children again. They all shook their heads ever so slightly, showing him that they did not agree with what Mrs Weasley was saying. Even though Sirius was trying to stay calm and not get angry with her again, he found it increasingly hard as Molly turned her attention back to the curtains as if their conversation was over. As if that was all that needed to be said. Sirius wasn't at all satisfied with leaving the last word like that, so he stepped back into her line of sight so that she could ignore him no longer.

"You know that this isn't how I feel," he said sternly. "I don't give two craps about this house or what you touch in it."

"Very clearly you do," Molly argued.

Taking a deep breath, Sirius refrained from snapping at her. What was it that she wanted to hear from him? He didn't care about the things in here, but the things that had belonged to his brother were simply off-limits. Sirius had stated right when the Weasleys had arrived that the topmost landing was to be left untouched, and there had been no argument from their side. He must have his reasons for this rule, after all. The music box shouldn't have even been down here in the first place. It should have been upstairs in Regulus's bedroom like all of his other things. And no matter how angry and disappointed Sirius was with him, Regulus would always be his little brother, and he would always want to protect him. Now, he had failed to protect his brother from death, but he would not fail to protect his possessions from the trash. He was with Kreacher on that single point. Even if that meant causing more arguments with Molly.

And yet despite that, Sirius did not feel like she had the right to demand an explanation. He didn't owe her one, and he most certainly didn't want to give her one. Even if he had wanted to, he was certain that he wouldn't be able to. It was hard enough to think about him, let alone say his name out loud. It was different with Remus because he understood. He had known Regulus personally, and he had been by Sirius's side during those years. But Sirius didn't want to explain his complicated relationship to his dead Death Eater brother to whom he hadn't spoken to even in the years prior to his death to someone who didn't understand.

So Sirius could feel himself getting a little angry and worked up. "I apologised, Molly," he gritted out. "From now on, you can proceed to throw out everything you can get your hands on. By all means, please go ahead."

Molly narrowed her eyes, and Sirius clenched his jaw, and for a moment, the two of them simply glared at each other. The room was uncomfortably silent until Remus cleared his throat from behind Sirius and put his hands on Sirius's shoulders. "Come on, Black," he said softly, "let's get some food." And he steered Sirius out of the room and down the stairs.

One flight down on the second floor, Sirius swatted Remus's hands away and, fuming, carried on down the stairs on his own. "Who does she think he is?" he asked, more to himself than to Remus. "Telling me what I can and can not keep in my own house? The woman's mad, I tell you. Mad!"

Remus sighed, but he didn't get to answer before the twins appeared with a loud crack right next to them on the staircase. "Chin up, Sirius, old boy," Fred said with a wide grin. "Don't take it personally; that's just what she's like."

George nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, we have to hear this every day, so we're quite glad to have her off our backs for a little while. Speaking of..." He threw Remus a quick look and, obviously deciding that he was safe, continued in a low, conspiratorial voice, "That music box doesn't by any chance make you sing like a canary?"

Sirius smiled a little in spite of himself. He shook his head and pushed into the kitchen. "Nope," he said. "Just a music box."

"Aw, no way!" Fred moaned. "Okay, well, if you come across anything..."

Sirius nodded, already having been over this with them. "I'll see what comes up," he assured them.

Satisfied with his cooperation, the boys nodded and Disapparated back upstairs, where they were no doubt looking for more ideas for whatever they were planning, leaving Sirius to deal with explaining this odd conversation to Remus. This was proving to be rather difficult since Sirius himself didn't know a whole lot about Fred and George's plans. Besides, while Sirius wasn't asking any questions, he wasn't sure how much Remus would be on board with them doing stupid things. Lucky for him, Remus only pursed his lips and said to go to Molly immediately as soon as he got wind of the boys getting hurt.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "You're acting as if we didn't do things that got us hurt when we were their age, too," he pointed out with a sceptical raised eyebrow. "They're just having fun."

"Yes, but they're Molly's sons, aren't they?" Remus said. "And if she doesn't want them -"

"Maybe she should stop telling people what they should do," Sirius interrupted him rather forcefully. "They're not my children, as you pointed out, so it's not my place to lecture them." Sirius moved about the kitchen, looking for food, as he added more gently, "Now, I took a dangerous book from them earlier because they could have gotten seriously hurt using it, but collecting Doxys is harmless stuff. You have done worse."

"They're collecting Doxys?" Remus asked. Upon Sirius's expression, he sighed and shook his head slightly, but Sirius could see that he was giving in. "What on Earth do they need Doxys for? I saw them pocketing burnt Floo powder from the kitchen fireplace last week."

Sirius raised an eyebrow and smirked. "And you didn't tell Molly?" he teased. "Well, well, well, Mister Lupin. Aren't you a little daredevil."

Remus's lips quirked into a grin. "What can I say? It's in my blood," he said and shrugged.

Laughing, Sirius sat down to eat, and Remus joined him. They were disturbed only once by Kreacher, who was muttering furiously about "blood traitors ruining the noble house of my beloved mistress," but he fell uncharacteristically quiet when his eyes landed on Sirius. Remus frowned at the unusual reaction, but he didn't ask. At least not until much later that day when Kreacher seemed to have forgotten to argue with Sirius when told that he should leave the room so that Sirius and Remus could have some privacy.

"What's he on about today?" Remus asked, making Sirius tense.

"What do you mean?" he asked, although it was rather obvious what Remus meant.

"Don't play dumb with me, Padfoot," Remus said. "I mean, why isn't Kreacher arguing with you today?"

Sirius sighed, sinking to the freshly cleaned armchair. "I don't know. He might have overhead me mumbling the name of my idiot brother, and now he probably thinks I've forgiven everything that happened between us. Kreacher somehow decided to become an optimist all of a sudden, or he's gone so mad that he can't distinguish facts from his deepest desires anymore."

The room was silent for a moment as Remus gazed down at Sirius with the very expression Sirius had come accustomed to whenever he spoke about his brother. He hadn't seen that look in ages, however, and was mildly impressed though thoroughly annoyed that Remus hadn't unlearned it. But Remus, smart as he was, knew better than to ask Sirius whether he had truly forgiven Regulus. Besides, Sirius wouldn't have been able to give him an answer; he simply didn't know if he would ever be able to forgive his brother, but he also couldn't imagine not loving him.

"So, how are you planning on abusing his momentary subservience?" Remus asked instead with a smile in his voice.

Sirius grinned up at him. "I'm sure I can think of something."

He made a show of looking Remus up and down then, appreciating the short sleeves showing off his arms, which he usually kept hidden away beneath his robes. It had been another terribly hot day, and the cooling charms on the rooms did little to relieve Sirius from the heat that seemed to be pouring out of the walls and floors of the house as well as through the windows. He hated sitting inside on a day like this, but he found it very easy to tolerate the heat when Remus was here, wallking around in T-shirts. Not to mention that it was a soft green, matching his eyes, and said in big capital letters, "QUEEN."

"Now, did I kick Kreacher out for nothing, or will you come here?" Sirius asked, smirking suggestively.

His shameless insinuation made Remus blush, and he snorted but took two steps towards Sirius and sat down in his lap. At their contact, Sirius felt even hotter than before, but he wasn't crazy enough to complain. Instead, he appreciated how the previous conversation about Regulus floated out of his brain. Sirius pulled Remus closer and leaned his forehead against his collarbone, taking a deep breath. Remus put his hand in Sirius's hair, and Sirius felt his body relaxing for the first time since Remus had left.

"Do you -" Sirius cut Remus's question short by shaking his head because he knew that Remus had been about to ask if he wanted to talk about what was depressing him. He could feel his head moving as Remus sighed. "Well, if you ever want to..."

Sirius nodded, tightening his arms around Remus's waist. He looked up at him, their eyes meeting. "I know," Sirius said.

A small crease appeared between Remus's eyebrows. "So you don't want to?"

"I do," Sirius disagreed. He wanted nothing more than to release Remus from his lack of insight into Sirius's psyche, but he found it impossibly hard to work through his emotions himself, let alone put them into words for someone else to understand. "I just don't know how yet."

At the last word, Remus's eyes lit up with hope, and he nodded, understanding. "Well," he said again, "you know..."

Sirius smiled. "I know."

Just as he craned his neck to kiss his boyfriend, the deafening shouts of his mother reached all the way up to the room they were hiding in. Sirius and Remus jumped in surprise, Remus knocking his teeth against Sirius's lip. It started to bleed, and Sirius pressed his tongue against it. He cursed under his breath and got up, taking Remus with him and putting him down on his feet.

"Can't have a moment of silence in this bloody house because that foul, evil bitch -" Sirius ripped open the door and thundered down the stairs.

He came to a screeching halt in the hallway where what appeared to be the entire Order of the Phoenix was congregated. Alastor Moody's magical eye swivelled to Sirius on the stairs, then to Remus right behind him, and Sirius couldn't shake the feeling that Moody had seen what they had been up to upstairs. Tonks had bright orange hair today, and Sirius gave her a little wave, which was returned with a bright smile. Mundungus Fletcher was quickly hiding something under his robes as he pushed farther into the house, past Molly Weasley. She gave him an ugly look, which Sirius now knew only too well, but he couldn't bring himself to feel bad for Dung. At least that took some of the steam off Sirius.

In the midst of the crowd was none other than Albus Dumbledore, who had set the meeting a few days earlier, which was the whole reason why Remus had returned so soon. Still, Sirius hadn't really expected him to show up. He hadn't seen the Headmaster in weeks, and he hadn't heard much from him either. The old man ushered the people downstairs to the kitchen, where they had a large table to sit at. Usually, the dining room would be used for such occasions, but it had yet to be cleaned, so they resorted to the kitchen.

Moody's electric blue eye flittered past Sirius and fixed itself on the ceiling. "You might want to send the kids back to their rooms, Sirius," he noted, and sure enough, when Sirius went up a few steps, he found Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and even Crookshanks crouching on the dusty carpet, hoping to listen to the adults.

Sirius pursed his lips only to hide his smile. He could understand the curiosity of the children, and he condoned some mischief, but this was different. In this case, even he felt that he didn't have the authority to allow them to listen. This was Order business, and it wasn't up to him to decide whether or not they were fit to be included. This, unlike Doxys and Floo powder for their jokes, was Molly's and Arthur's decision. Not Sirius's. So he sent them off to bed and only returned downstairs after hearing three doors close, followed by silence.

As a matter of fact, if this is important enough for Dumbledore to show up... he thought, then called Kreacher to keep an eye on the kids and report to Sirius immediately if they tried to eavesdrop. As Sirius entered the kitchen, he scanned the people around the table for a second. His eyes instantly found the greasy head of Severus Snape, and Sirius wrinkled his nose. To have Snivellus sit here at his table... Snape must have noticed that Sirius was glaring at him, and his eyes snapped up to Sirius as well, narrowing. Sirius looked away, convinced that prologed eye contact with he git would be harmful to his mental well-being.

Only when Sirius took his seat at the head of the table (where he would have refused to sit if there had been any other free seat, which there wasn't), did Dumbledore clear his throat to gain everyone's attention. "I have asked you here today because letters can't be trusted with the information I have acquired in the past few days."

Although no one had been speaking before, the silence now seemed even more absolute. It was as if even the house knew that this was serious, the way it stopped creaking. Sirius's eyes flickered to Remus, who was seated on his left, and a burning protectiveness flared up inside of him.

"As we are all aware, Voldemort has been suspiciously quiet ever since his return a few weeks ago. He now has the opportunity to operate under the protective umbrella of the Ministry's ignorance. As long as he doesn't make any waves, he can gather followers and gain strength without issue."

A few people were nodding along to Dumbledore's words. Remus was one of them, but Sirius stayed still, keeping his eyes fixed on the Headmaster. He was listening intently, wondering why Dumbledore was telling them something they already knew. What had he found out?

"But Voldemort knows that we have the upper hand now. We have the advantage of knowing about his return, simply because he failed to kill Harry Potter, which allowed him to warn us. And," Dumbledore added importantly, "we have Harry Potter."

Again, several people nodded. Minerva McGonagall straightened in her seat while Snape rolled his eyes. Sirius sneered at him even though Snape wasn't looking in his direction. Prick, Sirius thought darkly, then looked back at Dumbledore, who had his hands folded on the table and was looking around at the others.

"He will want to even the playing field as much as he can," Dumbledore continued. "For that, he doesn't rely simply on strength in numbers or on his magical ability. I have suspected it for a while, but recent events made me quite sure in my suspicion. What Voldemort is seeking is knowledge. He wants to know how to defeat Harry Potter; how to get rid of him once and for all. And while the boy is being protected, the only other way is -"

It suddenly dawned on Sirius where Dumbledore was going with this, and a chill ran down his spine.

"- through learning the prophecy," Dumbledore finished, proving Sirius right.

Sirius and Remus looked at each other with panic written on both their faces as a low mumble went around the table. If Voldemort was trying to access the prophecy, and if he managed it, then that would mean the end of the Order of the Phoenix, of Harry, and of the rest of the Wizarding world as they knew it. Voldemort could not be allowed to access this kowledge. Sirius squared his shoulders, determined to put a stop to this however he could.

"There is another issue," Dumbledore said, and silence fell again as every eye was focused on him. "As prophecies can only be accessed by the people they refer, Voldemort will need Harry Potter to get it for him."

His blue eyes swept around the table, fixing first on Minerva, then on Snape, on Remus, and finally, for the longest, on Sirius. It was as if Dumbledore knew what Sirius was thinking: that Harry should come to stay here, that he wasn't safe at his aunt's and uncle's, and that Sirius would break out of here if that gave him the chance to stop Voldemort's plan. But Dumbledore's eyes told him very firmly to do nothing. Stay put. Keep your nose clean. Sirius's shoulders sagged with disappointment and rising anger.

"The boy is too curious for his own good," the Headmaster said, looking away from Sirius. "If he knew, he would feel that only he could stop Voldemort from getting his hands on Harry's prophecy. He will want to take that burden off of everyone else."

Sirius couldn't help but smile at that, but he looked down at the hands in his lap to hide it. What Dumbledore had just said about Harry reminded him very much of James. He, too, would have gone up against the Dark Lord on his own in order to protect his loved ones. Noble gits, the both of them, Sirius thought affectionately.

Dumbledore went on for a while, stressing how important it was for Harry to be kept in the dark about this. With every sentence, Sirius could feel irritation rising inside of him. Why keep Harry in the dark? Why not clue him in and give him the chance to fight? James would never have allowed someone to keep him out of something that was concerning him. James would want to fight, and Harry would, too. Sirius was certain of that.

When Arthur volunteered to stand guard in the Department of Mysteries, Molly rounded on him. "Arthur," she pleaded, but she didn't tell him not to do it. She knew as well as the rest of them that the Order only had so many people inside the Ministry, and they had to use all of them if they wanted to achieve their goal of keeping the prophecy safe.

"I'll be alright, Molly," Arthur said with a kind smile and placed his hand on top of his wife's.

She sighed, but the matter was settled. Sirius leaned back in his chair, ignoring Remus looking at him. He simply couldn't believe that they - that Dumbledore - was deciding over Harry's head like that. Harry would want to do something. But when Sirius complained about it to Remus once everyone had left and they were getting ready for bed, all he got in return was a raised eyebrow.

"What?" Sirius snapped. "Don't give me that look, Moony. Say what you want to say."

"Nothing," Remus said. "Carry on."

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "You don't think I'm right? Harry is sick of sitting on his ass all day, waiting for someone to let him do something."

That, finally, made Remus drop the sleep shirt with which he'd been struggling. He let it fall to the floor and turned to Sirius, shirtless. "Are you sure you're still talking about Harry?"

Sirius's eyebrows flew up. "Meaning?"

"Well, it just sounds like you might be talking about yourself. That you are sick of sitting on your ass," Remus pointed out, his voice infuriatingly soft.

Chapter Text

Remus could tell instantly that he had hit a nerve. Sirius tensed, his posture becoming rigid, and narrowed his eyes. For a second which felt like an hour, he just looked at Remus in disbelief that he had had the audacity to say something like this. But Remus knew that he was right, and he wasn't sorry. Sirius didn't want Harry any more in danger than Remus or Dumbledore did. They all wanted to keep him safe. But Sirius was so desperate to get out of the house and do something that wasn't cleaning the bloody bedrooms that he was willing to overlook Harry's safety and get him involved. Because if Sirius couldn't do anything, then at least Harry could and tell Sirius all about it. And if Harry got into trouble, that would give Sirius the perfect excuse to leave.

"Are you even hearing yourself?" Sirius asked with a forced lighness that Remus could easily see through. "You sound ridiculous, Remus."

Remus tilted his head to the side and eyed Sirius carefully. He was still in his robes while Remus was already halfway undressed; all the complaining had prevented Sirius from changing into his pyjamas. Remus sighed. He didn't want to argue, but if he gave in now, they wouldn't talk about it at all, and that was worse. They had to talk about it.

"So, then you don't feel like this is an opportunity to live vicariously through Harry?" Remus asked gently, as one would speak to an upset child.

Sirius scowled and turned his back on Remus to stare out of the window instead of at him. It felt odd to be standing in the childhood bedroom with him and feeling like he was there with the childhood Sirius as well. He could act so damn juvenile sometimes, and while Remus found it charming most of the time, it could also be very irritating. Remus sighed again and stepped closer, putting his hands on Sirius's arms from behind. He leaned his chin on top of Sirius's shoulder, the long black hair tickling the side of his face. This way, he could see that Sirius was looking at the waxing gibbous moon. It would become a full moon in a few days.

"I'm not trying to make you angry, Sirius," Remus said quietly, and he could feel the tension leaving Sirius's shoulders. "You're already angry at everyone else."

Sirius sank his head. "I'm not angry at you," he mumbled, making Remus smile. "I'm just..." His voice trailed off, but there was no need for him to say any more. Remus knew that Sirius felt hopeless, helpless, and useless. And he had every right to.

"I think Dumbledore knew not to set the meeting any closer to the full moon," Remus pointed out, his eyes still on the moon that he hated and feared so much.

Sirius turned around so that his face was suddenly way too close to Remus, taking his breath away. Sirius frowned. "Why not?"

Remus shrugged shyly and looked away. "Because I'd have gone berserk if he told me this that close to the full moon," he confessed, meeting Sirius's beautiful dark eyes again. "I'm not happy about this either, Padfoot. I'm just saying that Harry might be safer if we follow Dumbledore's orders."

And just like that, he had said the wrong thing again. Sirius raised his eyebrows and took a step back. "Oh, follow Dumbledore's orders," he said, his tone seeping with sarcasm. "Yes, let's do that. Just like I'm supposed to be locked up in this house of horror that I hated for my entire life. Of course, I can sympathise with Harry if he has to go through the exact same thing! He's locked up in there with his stupid family, shut off from everyone else, even though he wants to fight! He wants to do something, and if I can't, he should!"

He had gotten loud, and his chest was rising and falling rapidly. Remus was glad that they were the only ones on this floor so that no one could hear Sirius's outbursts.

"I know how -"

"No, you don't!" Sirius interrupted him. His voice dropped, and he suddenly sounded defeated. "I was locked up for twelve years, and when I broke free, I thought I would never have to go back." Sirius looked around his room. "This is almost as bad."

When his eyes found back to Remus, they were filled with a sadness beyond comprehension. "I can't even produce a Patronus anymore," Sirius whispered, as if he was ashamed of that fact.

For a moment, there was silence between them. The kind of silence that came only in the middle of the night, intensified by the absence of loud voices. Remus didn't know what to say. He hadn't thought about this being as bad as Azkaban for Sirius; maybe even worse because here, the memories were real. There had been so much pain and terror in Sirius's life. He had managed to escape during his time at Hogwarts, finding happiness there and in his friends. But the happiness connected to James was now covered in a sheen cloak of grief, and the one connected to Peter had been destroyed by betrayal. The Dementors, forcing Sirius to relive his worst memories, had sucked the last thread of happiness from him. He might have been able to regain some of it during their time at Remus's flat, but returning to his childhood home had destroyed that, too.

"They can't get to you," Remus whispered.

Sirius's eyes snapped to his, widening. "What?"

Remus swallowed thickly. The sudden shift of tension in the room was palpable and was making it hard to breathe. "Your parents, your cousins... your brother. They can't get to you. I won't let them."

Overcome by emotions, Sirius stepped toward Remus, his hands flying up to his neck, and kissed him. Remus, surprised at first, let out a muffled gasp at the impact. He snaked his arms around Sirius's waist and pulled him flush against himself, their bodies aligning like pieces of a puzzle. Remus could feel himself growing hard, especially when he became aware of the fact that he was shirtless in front of his boyfriend.

"Say it again," Sirius begged in a desperate whisper against Remus's lips.

Remus got weak in the knees, and he just barely managed to suppress a whimper when he opened his mouth to speak. "I won't let them get to you," he repeated. "I won't let them hurt you. You're safe with me."

It was Sirius's turn to whimper now. The kiss intensified and sped up, making Remus's head spin. Sirius started to tear off his clothes, ripping one item after another off his body until he was shirtless as well, his trousers unbuttoned. Remus placed his palms on Sirius's naked chest, feeling the muscles beneath, which had started to come back. He let his fingertips trail down his torso, then firmly held Sirius's waist and pulled him closer again until their groins were rubbing against each other. Sirius moaned into the kiss, and Remus's blood lit on fire. His boyfriend did quick work of Remus's trousers, pulling them down along with his underpants.

As Sirius pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses down Remus's neck and along his collarbone, Remus tangled his hands in the mass of soft black hair. He was gasping and just barely had the strength to keep his eyes open to watch Sirius leave kisses down his body. Sirius pulled his wand from his pocket and whispered, "Muffliato" against Remus's stomach, soundproofing the room. Remus's blush deepend.

"You're the only one who really knows me, Moony," Sirius said in a low voice, his lips still hovering over Remus's skin.

Remus thought he might faint, hearing this. He tightened his grip on Sirius's hair, hoping that the feeling of it would assure him that this was real. He was desperate to be confirmed that this wasn't a dream. Sirius licked Remus's skin, setting it ablaze, before continuing farther downward.

"I can't talk to anyone but to you, and I don't want to," Sirius whispered, softly biting the skin where Remus's hips met his legs.

Remus tilted his head back and moaned. This was too much. The kisses, Sirius on his knees, and the words he was whispering like a confession. It was all too much for Remus, and if he didn't moan, he might have cried. "Sirius -" he gasped, wanting to beg for mercy, but the other man had different plans.

He ran his hands up the back of Remus's legs, over his buttocks, and around to the front, where he took Remus's prick. Sirius licked his lips, and Remus watched with desperate fascination how they parted for him. Sirius moaned, his eyes fluttering shut, and his pleasure rolled right through Remus as Sirius took him in his mouth. Remus tilted his head back, his eyes wide as he gasped for air, Sirius taking him deeper until he gagged. The sound made Remus's head snap back down so that he could look at Sirius in surprise. He had never done this before, but Remus enjoyed it quite a bit. He was a little ashamed to admit that he also enjoyed seeing Sirius like this while Remus was cross with him. Their discussion was far from over, and they both knew it.

That was possibly the reason why Sirius stopped sucking Remus off right before he reached the climax, leaving him aching for more. Remus whined as he was denied his relief, and he tugged a little at Sirius's hair in frustration. Sirius was wearing a satisfied smirk when he got to his feet and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Remus narrowed his eyes, and another wave of irritation washed over him.

"You better wipe that smirk off your face, Sirius," he grumbled. "We're not done talking about this."

Sirius's smirk only widened into something overly self-assured and cocky. He raised a challenging eyebrow. "Looks like we're done to me," he pointed out.

Remus gritted his teeth. Sirius wasn't playing fair. All sorts of emotions were mixing and mingling inside of Remus; annoyance colliding with desire, irritation with hunger. He was overwhelmed with the new sensation they were creating: something bigger than himself, something that was harder to fight than any of these emotions separately. He gently shoved Sirius onto the bed, where he landed on his back with a soft exclamation. Towering over him even more than usual, Remus looked down at his boyfriend, who was as good as naked, his tight underpants leaving little to the imagination.

A provocative smirk flittered across Sirius's lips as he noticed the flames dancing in Remus's eyes. "What? You're going to tell me off again, are you?" he taunted.

Remus clenched his jaw and barely moved his head from side to side. "No," he breathed, leaning down in a threatening manner. "I can think of another way to make you talk to me."

Sirius's eyes flared when he understood Remus's meaning, and he blushed. "Yeah?" he asked, but there was no real bite to it, for his voice was breathy, barely able to contain his arousal at the proposition.

Nodding, Remus crawled on top of the man like a hungry animal with its prey. He leaned down to clasp Sirius's bottom lip between his teeth and softly bit down on it. He pulled away before Sirius could lift his head off the pillow and deepen the kiss. There was a second in which Sirius looked like he might protest, but something in Remus's face told him not to speak. After all, this was as much punishment for Sirius as it was for Remus himself. He wanted so badly to pin Sirius down and fuck him senseless, but there was one thing Remus wanted more: the truth.

Remus let his fingertips trail down Sirius's torso, following the movement with his eyes. He felt the muscles tighten as Sirius lifted his head, but neither of them spoke. Remus bit his lip as his fingers moved over the abdominal muscles that were so prominent because Sirius had barely any body fat to cover them up with. He was still so skinny, but it was way different from when he had arrived on Remus's doorstep. His face had liveliness back and didn't look so haunted anymore. He didn't look dead anymore. When Remus's fingertips reached the hem of Sirius's underpants, he could feel the man stiffen, and when Remus softly traced over the ridge of his prick through the fabric, Sirius gasped.

"Fuck, Moony," he whispered. "You're not doing a particularly good job of making me talk."

"Shut up, Sirius," Remus replied without taking his eyes off of his fingers. He was utterly mesmerised by how Sirius's prick twitched at his touch.

"I like it when you tell me what to -"

But Sirius's last word turned into a gasp when Remus, with no consideration for letting Sirius finish his sentence, wrapped his hand around his prick on top of his underwear. "I said shut up," Remus repeated, his eyes finally locking with Sirius's. "Be a good boy, and then you'll get a treat."

Sirius's eyes widened, and his cheeks turned a deep red. He nodded. "Okay," he breathed, and Remus smiled, satisfied. This was going against his policy of making Sirius come to him to talk, but he had decided to use whatever means necessary to help Sirius work through his issues.

With his hand still wrapped around the other man's cock, Remus asked, "Why are you so insistent on Harry coming here?"

Sirius whined, squeezing his eyes shut. "Moony, please," he begged.

Pity and sympathy flooded Remus, so he leaned back down over Sirius. His lips ghosted over those of his boyfriend. "Come on," he whispered. "I know you can do it."

Sirius must have thought he was very clever when he lifted his head, trying to catch Remus by surprise. But Remus had been waiting for him and evaded the kiss by pulling his head back. He tutted in disapproval. "Only good boys get rewards. Are you a good boy, Sirius?"

"Yes," was the answer with no hesitation whatsoever. "Yes, Remus. But I -"

"Yes?" Remus asked softly. "Tell me to stop asking, and I'll stop," Remus said, making sure that Sirius knew that he wasn't being forced into anything. If he truly didn't want to talk, then he only needed to say the word. Remus wouldn't be mad, and he wouldn't stop what they were doing. He wanted Sirius to be rewarded for talking, not punished for not talking.

"I -" Sirius opened his eyes but looked away at something over Remus's shoulder. "I feel so useless, and I don't want Harry to feel the same way."

That gave Remus pause for a second. He could understand that. He, too, wanted to give Harry the opportunity to do something, to fight, to make a difference. But Harry was simply too young to make such an important decision. At his age, James had still been pulling down trousers and getting in detentions for pranks. None of them had been close to being responsible, and while Remus knew from experience that at fifteen, you couldn't imagine sitting still and letting the adults handle things, he also knew that at fifteen, you weren't old enough to fight a war.

"He is safe there, Sirius," Remus said gently, leaning down to kiss Sirius.

The other man threaded his hands into Remus's hair, using the moment to pull him even closer, forcing his tongue into Remus's mouth until he whimpered. Remus started to move his hand, slowly pumping Sirius's prick over his underpants. Sirius moaned into the kiss, sending shivers down Remus's spine.

Before either of them could get too carried away, Remus pulled away from the kiss and stilled his hand. "You're doing good," he whispered against his boyfriend's lips, which were parted as Sirius was breathing heavily. "Do you want more?"

Again, without hesitation, Sirius nodded. "Yes," he breathed, almost begging.

The corner of Remus's lips twitched into a smirk. "Good," he cooed and teasingly flicked his tongue across Sirius's lips. "Why are you so angry with Dumbledore?"

Sirius bucked his hips into Remus's hand. "Because he's making me do things I don't want to and disguises them as 'for the greater good'," he replied, suppressing a gasp.

Remus leaned down and softly grazed Sirius's earlobe with his teeth. "Mmh, there it is... Honesty looks good on you," Remus whispered, and he could feel the other man shudder. "Keep going. Tell me what you do want, and maybe I'll let these hands wander a little further."

"I..." Sirius hesitated, looking for the right words. "I want to help. Really help. I want to do something. Go out there. I want Harry to be here so that he doesn't have to be alone. And so that I don't, either, when you're gone again."

Remus paused and pushed himself up so that he could look at Sirius more clearly. "Is that what's bothering you? Do you feel left behind by me?" he asked, worry creasing his forehead.

Sirius widened his eyes. "No, of course not, Merlin's beard!" he said quickly, sounding sincere. "I'm glad that you can help. I want nothing more for you than to get out there and kick ass. Your place isn't here in this house."

Remus frowned even more. "My place is with you," he clarified.

A soft smile formed on Sirius's lips. "I knew you were going to say that," he whispered and tugged at Remus's neck, pulling him back down.

Although they resumed their kissing and teasing, Remus couldn't help but feel a little uneasy. There was something Sirius wasn't telling him, and Remus couldn't even ask because he had no idea what it might be. 

Chapter Text

For days, Remus couldn't manage to shake that nagging feeling in the back of his head. He had to leave the house more often, and whenever he returned, he found Sirius in an even worse state than when he had left. The other man insisted, of course, that he was perfectly alright, but his effort to sound convincing shrank from time to time more.

Remus didn't know what to do anymore. It was hard enough to leave Sirius without knowing what it did to him. It made Remus not want to go at all, but they had their duties to fulfil whether he liked it or not. Whenever Remus was at Grimmauld Place, he noticed Sirius getting in unnecessary little spats with Molly. When Remus had asked her about it, he had got the feeling that she hadn't got over their argument about the music box.

Sirius hadn't mentioned that music box again, neither his brother. He hadn't approached the door to Regulus's bedroom again, and he was throwing things away without looking at them twice. Family portraits, books, heirlooms - it all landed in the rubbish. Kreacher was back to bickering with and muttering insults at Sirius. It was as if Regulus Black had never existed, as if his memory wasn't tarnishing the house. Remus didn't mention any of it.

They fell asleep next to each other every night Remus was there, and on the nights that he wasn't, he slept over in his empty flat. It was summer, and the place was way more welcoming than Grimmauld Place, but it felt colder there without Sirius. Remus slept horribly in his own bed, hating the extra space in there that he wasn't used to anymore. He hated waking up to the sound of silence, hated brewing coffee for one and sitting on the couch alone. He hated being away from Sirius.

But as the July full moon came and went (Remus having spent it in his basement again), he learned to find some form of solace in his own flat. As much as he hated being away from Sirius and leaving him to fend for himself in that dreadful house, Remus couldn't deny that it was a small, guilty relief to get away from all that. Just for a few hours, he didn't have to get his heart broken by Sirius's sullen face. He could eat in peace without worrying that Sirius wasn't eating enough. Remus could just exist without being constantly confronted with Sirius's bad mood.

It wasn't that Sirius had done anything wrong. The weight he carried was real and heavy enough to break even the strongest of men. Remus knew that, and he respected it. He loved Sirius for fighting through it, even when that fight made him sharp-edged and distant. He was doing it, clinging on by his teeth, and that was what mattered to Remus.

But on some nights, he couldn't deny that he just needed to breathe, to step into a space untouched by the storm raging in Sirius's mind and on his face, seeping out into the world around him. Remus couldn't shake feeling like he was tiptoeing around tripwires when he was around Sirius, watching his every word and every move to make sure he wasn't setting any of them off. And that made him so bloody tired. His work was draining, and Remus simply didn't have the strength to constantly keep himself and Sirius from falling apart. Maybe that made him selfish.

Either way, he sometimes left Grimmauld Place earlier in the morning to have a quiet moment in his flat to sit, drink coffee, and listen to his old records. After a job well done, he sometimes returned to his flat to celebrate by himself with a cold beer. Locking the door behind himself and sinking into the quiet of his own flat had started to feel less like abandoning Sirius and more like saving himself so that he could be there better for Sirius.

Yet Remus couldn't stand being gone for two nights in a row. No matter how busy he was or how enjoyable his solitude was, he felt physically sick at the thought of being away from Sirius for too long. Did that make him codependent? Was it unhealthy? Probably, but Remus didn't have it in him to care. They had more important things to worry about than his relationship with Sirius.

When the day before Harry's birthday arrived, Remus and Sirius once again found themselves in a conversation about said relationship. They had been keeping it a secret for almost exactly six months, and both of them knew that it was time to tell Harry. He deserved to know, yet it seemed hardly appropriate to tell him in a letter for his birthday.

"Just sign it with your name," Remus said, watching Sirius's quill hover over the parchment.

Sirius looked up at him, then nodded and signed Snuffles to the bottom of the letter, which was telling Harry little more than what Dumbledore was telling Sirius: sit still and do nothing. Remus was very well aware of how annoyed Sirius was about his muzzle, but he followed the orders and told his godson nothing. Not that there was much to tell that could be trusted in a letter.

"We'll tell him when he gets here, then," Sirius said, rolling up the parchment. He was still holding out hope, although Dumbledore hadn't appeared to another meeting and hadn't said another word about Harry being allowed to come to Grimmauld Place.

Remus smiled sadly and nodded. "Yes. When he gets here."

He didn't have the heart to tell Sirius that Dumbledore might never allow for that to happen. At least not while the Ministry was still ignorant and while Voldemort was out there without anyone looking for him. It was too dangerous for Harry to leave the protection of Lily's sister. Remus didn't say any of it out loud. Sirius knew this already, and they had gotten in more than enough arguments about it; he couldn't bear another.

"Do you think he will like it?" Sirius asked over his shoulder as he attached the letter to the little box containing Harry's present.

Smiling softly, Remus stepped closer to him. "He will love it, Sirius," he said quietly, his voice shaky.

The present that the two of them had come up with together (although Remus was letting Sirius take full credit for it to avoid any questions of why they were giving Harry something together) wasn't new or shiny, and yet it was one of the most precious things Sirius could give his godson. It was a dented, battered old practice Snitch that Fred had found rattling around in one of the drawers that they had emptied out. He had given it to Sirius behind Molly's back, and Sirius had been eternally grateful.

Because the Snitch wasn't just any Snitch. James Potter had once nicked it from the Gryffindor Quidditch team practice set one summer and never given back because he liked to use it to show off his impeccable Seeker skills. The wings of the little golden ball were a little crooked and sometimes got stuck after so many years of lying around in a drawer, but they still fluttered when you tapped the Snitch. It was a piece of their childhood, and Remus and Sirius agreed that they could imagine no one more deserving of owning it than Harry Potter, the son of the man who had stolen it in the first place.

There was soft music playing in the room; Remus had taken some of the vinyl records back to Grimmauld Place to their rightful owner. Sirius's face had lit up at the sight of them, and now he barely spent a minute in this room without music playing. He had said that it reminded him of being locked up here during the holidays, listening to anything that would make his mother angry and remind him of Hogwarts and his friends. Remus was glad that he was able to provide Sirius with this small comfort, which he could keep around even when Remus wasn't there.

Sirius sent off the owl carrying both the present and the letter, while Remus sank down on the bed. He was exhausted; he hadn't slept well since the full moon. Sirius, who slept equally horribly, knew whenever Remus woke up because he was already up as well. Most of the time, they didn't talk when they both stirred awake in the middle of the night, just wrapping their arms around each other until they fell asleep. Sometimes, though, they whispered about the dream they had had because even Sirius was slowly starting to learn that talking helped.

That night, when Remus snapped awake from a dream about Sirius locking him into the basement where he usually sat out the full moon, he found the other man still asleep. Still breathing heavily, Remus couldn't help but smile. Sirius was curled up on his side, his hand tucked under his cheek while his other hand was clasping Remus's sleep shirt. Sirius might be shutting Remus out, but he wasn't going anywhere. He was still holding on to Remus with all his might; when he tried to pry the fingers off his shirt, he failed miserably because the grip was so strong. Gently, not wanting to wake his boyfriend but also not being able to stand not touching him, Remus reached out and ran his fingers through Sirius's soft black curls. The other man stirred, but he didn't wake, and Remus let out a relieved breath. He didn't want to be responsible for making Sirius lose another night of sleep.

Remus stayed like that for a while, his hand in Sirius's hair and his thumb gently stroking over his eyebrow. He wondered whether tomorrow, Sirius would be in a slightly better mood, knowing that it was Harry's birthday and the boy would be receiving his present. Or maybe that would plunge his mood even deeper, knowing that it was his godson's birthday, but he wasn't allowed to be there to celebrate it with him. Remus sighed but slid closer to Sirius, so much so that he could feel a warmth being created between them.

There wasn't much to do but help Molly and the children to clean for the next two days. Remus didn't appreciate this sort of work, and he was even more annoyed when Sirius vanished without a trace into the master bedroom to tend to his hippogriff. They got into an argument about it that evening before dinner, snapping at each other in front of Sirius's bedroom until Remus pushed Sirius into the room so that they wouldn't be overheard from downstairs. The last thing they needed right now was for someone to catch up on the fact that their relationship was more than just purely friendly.

"You spend more time with him than with me!" Remus snapped in a fit of justified jealousy.

"I do not! I spend more time with him than cleaning," Sirius clarified angrily. "That's a clear difference."

Remus scoffed. "No, it's not. I'm cleaning. Besides, that's not my point, and you know it."

"Oh, do I?" Sirius challenged.

Remus narrowed his eyes. "Sirius, don't be an arse. You haven't spoken to me properly in days."

"Because you're always gone!" Sirius shouted.

Silence fell. They were both breathing heavily, glaring at each other and seizing each other up. Remus knew that if he weren't who he was, Sirius would have thrown a punch at him. He knew the look in his eyes, knew that he had pushed Sirius close to a breaking point. Were Snape here, he wouldn't be safe. Yes, Remus was always gone, but Sirius didn't even stop to question why. He didn't think about the fact that Remus was doing work for the Order and that he sometimes needed a little space for himself, too. All Sirius could see was Remus abandoning him.

"I'm here now," Remus said helplessly, flinging his arms out at his sides.

"Yeah?" Sirius asked. "For what? A few hours. You come in, you act like everything is fine, and then you're off again doing Godric knows what."

Remus felt as though he had been slapped in the face. Sirius hadn't mentioned that he had even noticed that Remus was around less. How was Remus supposed to have known that this was how Sirius felt about his absence if he never spoke about it? He was always in a bad mood, so there had been no way for Remus to pinpoint it to his absence.

"Don't do that, Sirius," he tried.

"Do what? Say the truth? You come and leave right after I wake up. Like you're doing me a favour. Like you can't stand being in this house with me anymore."

"Maybe I can't!" Remus burst out, and a tear rolled down his cheek. He couldn't believe they were having this conversation.

Sirius froze.

"Being here feels like screaming into a void," Remus said. "You shut down, you snap, you won't even look at me half the time. And I'm supposed to just sit here and watch you drown and pretend like I'm not going under with you? It feels like I'm breaking my ribs trying to hold both of us up!"

Remus was breathing hard. Although he didn't want to have this fight, he couldn't help but feel a little glad in the back of his head. They were finally talking. Finally.

Sirius was breathing just as hard; Remus could see his shoulders rising and falling. "You don't get to talk about drowning when you're the one who can run the second the water gets cold. I'm stuck here sitting this out."

Remus stepped closer to Sirius, his voice low and furious. "Don't talk about running when all you do is shut me out and blame me for not breaking down the bloody door."

"Because if I open the door, I don't know what he hell you're going to do anymore!" Sirius's voice was rising, and Remus suddenly wished they had put a soundproofing spell on the room. "Are you going to stay? Leave? Or just look at me like I'm a fucking burden?"

Remus drew back. "I've never looked at you like that."

"No? No, maybe not. But you are the one who's leaving," Sirius said, his voice levelling out.

"I didn't leave." Remus was seething. He had felt anger like this at Sirius only once before, and he didn't like to remember that time. "I needed air. And you- You make everything feel like a fight."

Sirius squared up and clenched his jaw. "Then fight back."

Remus shoved him, just enough to make a point. "Don't tempt me."

Sirius shoved him back, harder, making Remus stumble. Their eyes were locked. "Or what?"

Grabbing his collar, Remus pulled him closer and sneered into his face. "Or I'll remind you why you used to beg me to stay."

Remus could hear Sirius's ragged intake of breath at his words. And then the tension between them broke, the space between them disappearing in a heartbeat. Teeth clashed together, hands gripped like they were trying to bruise. It wasn't tender or slow; it was all frustration and need and anger sharpened into touch. Remus ripped at Sirius's clothes, tearing them off his body, and Sirius did the same to Remus. In the process, their skin got scratched, and they gasped and cursed under their breath.

Sirius leaned in and bit Remus's neck, sucking at it until it hurt. Remus gasped and slapped him. "You fucking bastard!" he cursed and rubbed the aching skin with his hand.

"Stop whining," Sirius replied with a soft smirk and kissed Remus again, so roughly that they both stumbled on the impact, Remus's back hitting the wall.

They clasped at each other with all their might, as if they were trying to melt into one. Sirius pinned Remus's wrists against the wall to the sides of his head, trapping him and rendering him immobile. Remus tugged at his restraints and moaned into the kiss. He bit down on Sirius's lower lip until he tasted blood, and the other man growled and pressed down on his wrists harder so that it felt like the circulation in Remus's hands was dying. Remus licked the drops of blood off of Sirius's lip and then forced his tongue into his mouth, making Sirius moan and push his hips against him.

A low growl rumbled in Remus's chest as their hard groins were pressed against each other. With all his might, he pushed himself away from the wall. They stumbled, their teeth crashed against each other, and Sirius knocked with his back against the window. Remus shoved against him so that Sirius's ass hit the windowsill. The man groaned and pushed back, his fingertips digging into Remus's neck.

"Fuck," Sirius growled, his hips bucking into Remus once more.

Together, they stumbled through the room, crashing into furniture until Remus pushed Sirius onto the bed, where he landed on his back but instantly sat up and pulled Remus closer, his hands grabbing his hips. Remus stepped between Sirius's legs, glaring down at him with an overwhelming hunger, and watched how Sirius bit and sucked his way down Remus's stomach. Sirius tore off Remus's underpants and flicked his tongue over the head of his prick.

Remus twitched and clenched his teeth to suppress a moan. He pushed Sirius's shoulders back onto the bed and took off his underpants as well. Sirius gasped as his prick sprang free, slapping against his stomach. Remus looked at him, taking a moment to fully appreciate his boyfriend completely at his mercy. Then, he flipped Sirius over, making him gasp again. Sirius looked over his shoulder at Remus as he climbed on top of him, pressing his hand between Sirius's shoulder blades to press him into the mattress.

Leaning over Sirius, chest pressing against back, Remus lined his prick up with Sirius's entrance. His lips where ghosting over Sirius's ear as he whispered, "Open the fucking door, Sirius." Without giving Sirius the opportunity to reply, Remus pushed into him, biting down on his shoulder to silence his moan, but it was useless because Sirius himself moaned loudly, screaming, "Fuck!"

Sirius shuddered beneath Remus and nodded. "It's open," he moaned. "For fuck's sake, Remus, the door has never been locked!"

Remus thrust into Sirius again and again, harder and harder. He held himself up with his hands on top of the back of Sirius's, pressing them into the mattress. Both of them quickly became a mess of moans and gasps. After only a few minutes, Remus could feel his orgasm approaching, and he knew by the sound of Sirius's desperate gasps that he was close, too.

"You're so bloody frustrating!" Remus gritted out, pushing into Sirius once more and making him cry out.

"I know!" Sirius moaned over and over again, "I know, I know!"

Remus kissed Sirius everywhere he could reach him. He twisted his hand into Sirius's long black hair and tugged at it, making Sirius moan and tilt his head back. "You're so hot," Remus gasped, closing his eyes as pleasure rolled through him like a wave.

His eyes flew open again and his hips stilled as a sound broke through their panting. Sirius had heard it too; his body had gone rigid. They looked at each other with wide eyes, trying to figure out what the sound was. Then it hit Remus. Someone was thundering up the stairs! Remus's chest was rising and falling rapidly, and his brain was racing.

"Lock it," Sirius hissed.

Remus nodded and waved his hand at the door, focusing on performing the Locking Charm without his wand, which was still lying on the floor by his trousers. The door sealed itself with an odd noise just before Molly's voice rang out.

"Remus! Sirius!" she called, and Remus's heart beat faster as he registered the panic in her voice. "Come down quickly! Something's happened!"

Chapter Text

Tearing their eyes off the closed door, Sirius and Remus looked at each other again. With a mutual understanding in their eyes, Remus pulled out of Sirius, who sank down on the bed for a second, needing the time to calm down. Remus pressed a kiss to Sirius's left butt cheek and gave the other a soft slap, then kissed Sirius's temple. He brushed the long, sweaty hair out of Sirius's face and smiled gently before getting up to get dressed.

Fully dressed and with his hair fairly in order again, Sirius took hold of Remus's wrist before he could unlock the door. Remus turned to look at Sirius, and Sirius's breathing hitched. They had just done something they had never done before: poured their frustration and anger into sex. Sirius was sorry that this seemed to have been Remus's last resort to get Sirius to talk to him. He, too, had noticed a distance between them over the past days, which had only been growing with every time Remus got to step out the door while Sirius was forbidden to follow him. Sirius hadn't realised how much it hurt him not being able to follow.

"Are we... Are we okay?" he asked carefully, afraid of the answer. He didn't want this to stand between them. He didn't want anything standing between them at all.

Remus nodded, and Sirius's heart released its tension when a soft smile caressed Remus's lips, making his eyes crinkle. "Yes, Padfoot, my love. We're okay," he replied sincerely and took Sirius's hand.

And that held true because when they came downstairs to find Molly and Arthur looking terribly shaken, Sirius and Remus both remembered that there were far bigger problems to worry about. Sirius's heart dropped when he saw the pitying look in Molly's eyes, and he immediately feared the worst. He wished he could take Remus's hand again, but he knew he shouldn't. Remus had either sensed Sirius's desire or had the same one, for he stepped closer to Sirius, their shoulders and the backs of their hands brushing against each other.

"What is it?" Sirius asked. "Is it Harry?"

Molly swallowed thickly, but she wasn't able to answer, so Arthur placed his hands on her shoulders and replied, "The Ministry is plotting to expel Harry from Hogwarts. He used underage magic"

Sirius felt weak in the knees and overwhelmingly light-headed. He swayed a little, and Remus steadied him with his hands on Sirius's shoulders, mimicking Arthur. "He did magic?" Remus asked, then shook his head. "No, Harry knows that he's not allowed -"

But he broke off when Arthur nodded. "He does. I'm certain there is more to the story than the Ministry is admitting. Harry didn't use just any magic. He performed the Patronus Charm."

Sirius felt Remus stiffen, and he himself felt like he was about to crumble to his knees. Suddenly, the voices around him seemed to blur into one, fading into an obnoxious buzzing. Sirius was pushed when the children came running down the stairs, having eavesdropped, but he barely registered it. Like Remus had said, Harry wouldn't use magic outside of Hogwarts unless really necessary. He knew what was at stake if he did. And a Patronus Charm? This wasn't a coincidence. This had been an attack. An attack on his godson.

"He's going to be expelled?" Sirius heard Ginny ask frantically.

"No, he can't be," Hermione replied, though she sounded less sure of herself than usual. "They have no legal ground for it. He still has the right to -"

"I don't care about the underage magic!" Sirius suddenly blurted out angrily, making everyone around him fall silent and turn their eyes on him. "Why the bloody hell were there Dementors in Little Whinging?"

Hermione shifted uncomfortably, looking like Sirius had just stepped on her toes. He ignored her and kept his gaze on Arthur, who must have more information. He just had to! But even he merely looked apologetic. "I don't know, Sirius. Mundungus left his post, and -"

"Mundungus!" Molly snapped shrilly. "That good-for-nothing criminal! I told Dumbledore not to put such an important job on a man we can't trust!"

"I know, Molly," Arthur sighed, warily glancing at Sirius, who felt like he was about to burst. "Listen, Dumbledore's gone to the Ministry and sorted it all out. There will be a hearing. Harry won't get expelled, not on Dumbledore's watch."

Sirius nodded firmly, as if that was helping him to believe it. He didn't know what to believe anymore, and he didn't know what to think. He could feel two emotions tugging at him from the inside, threatening to tear him apart. He was worried for Harry - terribly worried, of course - but he couldn't extinguish this tiny part of him that was thinking it wouldn't be quite so horrible if Harry were to be expelled. He could live here, then, with Sirius. And immediately upon giving this part of him even the slightest bit of attention, Sirius felt incredibly guilty.

Then, after a long silence in which everyone eyed each other, Sirius suggested, "I will write to Harry again. I'm sure he's already thinking of running away."

Everyone agreed that this was a good plan, and so Sirius made his way back upstairs. He didn't even notice Remus following him until he closed the door behind himself, making Sirius turn around. Remus had this sad look in his beautiful eyes, the one that made Sirius want to cry and curl up under Remus's large jumper, snuggling against his chest and focusing on nothing except for the sound of his beating heart. Resorting to the second-best option, Sirius crossed the room in two big strides and pulled Remus into a hug, burying his face in the crook of his neck.

Remus gently stroked Sirius's hair. "It's okay, Padfoot," he whispered. "He's okay. He's coming here."

"How do you know?" Sirius asked, his voice shaky. Especially after an attack like this, Harry needed the protection of his aunt. There was no guarantee that Dumbledore would let him come to Grimmauld Place.

"Because I will fight Dumbledore for as long as it takes until he agrees," Remus said, and Sirius could hear the smile in his voice.

They looked at each other, Sirius's eyes brimming with tears, before he pulled away reluctantly. He wrote a quick letter to Harry, telling him not to leave the house. He didn't know how many more times he could tell Harry this without wanting to set himself on fire. Sighing, Sirius tied the letter to an owl and sent it off through the window, watching it until it disappeared in the darkness.

"Do you want to go downstairs again?" Remus asked carefully. "Or we can stay up here if you like."

Sirius shrugged, looking out at the dark sky. It would be nice if Harry could come to stay with him, he thought. Then, neither of them would have to be alone anymore. Sirius would have someone here who understood what it meant to be locked up somewhere you didn't want to be. They could be two outlaws together. They could finally be a real family; and with Remus, too. Sirius pictured the three of them eating breakfast together every morning, reading the Daily Prophet, sharing the Quidditch section, and discussing the news of the day. Remus could go off to do things for the Order, and Harry and Sirius could spend the day at home together, just talking. Sirius would give everything to just talk to Harry undisturbed for a whole day.

But he belongs at Hogwarts, that annoying voice in his head said, and Sirius knew that it was right. If Harry was allowed to go back to Hogwarts, Sirius wouldn't want to stand in the way of that, even if that meant being alone here again. Sirius didn't want Harry to suffer the same way Sirius was. He should get to use his freedom for as long as he had it. He should finish his education. Go out there, learn things, see things. He shouldn't have to be stuck in this house at fifteen years old. Sirius knew what that was like, and he didn't wish it on anyone. He just wished for him not to be so lonely all the time when Remus wasn't here. The presence of the Weasleys and Hermione hardly helped anymore.

And yet, they were what kept Sirius distracted as they sat in the kitchen and waited for Dumbledore to show up with more news. But Hedwig arrived first, carrying three letters - one for each Sirius, Hermione, and Ron. She must have been told to get a quick reply back because she kept pecking Sirius's finger until it started to bleed, then moved on to do the same thing to the two other recipients of the letters.

"Ouch, Hedwig, stop that!" Ron snapped and tried to shoo her off, but she only hooted and kept attacking his hand.

"Hedwig, we can't tell him anything!" Hermione tried, rubbing her injured hand, and the bird threw her a nasty look.

Sirius almost smiled a little, but the situation wasn't funny enough for his lips to move. Instead, he sighed and stroked Hedwig's soft white feathers. Remus sat down next to him and shoved a cup of black tea across the table towards him. Sirius drank, immediately appreciating the warmth filling him up from the inside.

"It's horrible just to sit here and wait," Hermione said after a while.

Ron sank lower in his chair as if he was utterly ashamed of not being able to help his best friend. Fred, half attempting a joke, muttered, "If only we still had dad's Ford Anglia..."

George snorted a little, and even Ron smiled, but Hermione only pursed her lips even more. "That would do Harry no good!"

"We know, Hermione, gee," Ron groaned and tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling. "I just don't like not being able to do anything."

"Well, you could go to bed for one," Molly, who had just appeared in the doorframe, said. She eyed her children one by one, and when Ginny wanted to protest, she said sharply, "No discussion. Come on, off to bed, all of you."

There was a reason why she had sent them to bed so suddenly, Sirius found out, when Dumbledore stepped into the kitchen. His blue eyes immediately found Sirius, and for once, they were sympathetic and understanding instead of scolding and wordlessly telling him not to do anything stupid. Not that Sirius hadn't thought about it... All night, he had sat here at this table, wondering what he would have to say to make Remus let him go.

Dumbledore was followed by Kingsley Shacklebolt, who wordlessly gave the others a nod before sitting down, and Alastor Moody, whose magical eye swept the room instantly. The Headmaster sat down next to him. Finally, Tonks stumbled into the room, blushed crimson as she muttered apologies, and pushed the door shut behind herself. After a moment in which the newcomers settled down, Dumbledore sighed, and Sirius tensed. What did he know?

"Harry is safe," he started, and Sirius could hear audible breaths of relief around the table. His eyes flickered to Remus's hand resting on his thigh, but Sirius didn't dare to reach over to take it, so he only clenched his own hand into a fist and looked back at Dumbledore.

"The Ministry has agreed to hold a hearing on the twelfth, where he will be allowed to plead his case," Dumbledore went on. "I, of course, will be there to defend him." His eyes swept to Sirius again and held his gaze.

Sirius nodded, glad that Dumbledore had managed to convince the Ministry to give Harry a chance to explain himself. And if Hermione was right and there really was no legal ground for them to expel Harry, then a hearing was an especially good idea to rub their own mistake into their faces. That was good news. Or bad news for Sirius? He wasn't sure.

"So he'll be coming here, then?"

Sirius's head snapped to Remus, who had asked the question. Quickly, Sirius looked back at Dumbledore to get his reaction. The old man nodded, smiling gently. Sirius's heart leapt. "Yes. There is the matter of getting him here, of course..." With a gesture of his hand, Dumbledore opened the floor to Moody.

"Yes, right," he grunted, straightening in his chair. "We will pick Harry up in the next few days. The exact date and time will be finalised shortly, as soon as we can confirm who will be coming. Naturally, I'll be leading this endeavour. Kingsley and Elphias Dodge have already agreed to come."

"I'm coming, too," Remus piped up again. Once again, Sirius turned to look at him, his eyes wide. Remus met his eyes and gave him a soft smile. "I'll bring him home to you," he said quietly, then louder, for the others to hear, "There should be a familiar face for him."

Sirius's heart skipped a beat. After days of them drifting apart, which had resulted in a huge argument, Remus still looked at him like this, and he still made Sirius's heart go mad. No argument could ever be more important than the love they had for each other and the love they had for Harry. In the face of a war, everything else seemed utterly insignificant.

"Yes, yes, charming," Moody interrupted them. "I had counted you in anyway, Remus."

Remus's lips tugged into a smile, and he looked away from Sirius again. Sirius, too, tore his eyes away and reminded himself that they were surrounded by people who weren't supposed to know about their relationship.

"I'll go, too," Tonks said, gaining everyone's attention. Sirius nodded, thankful, and she gave him a grin.

"Good," Moody said. "We'll send word around, and whoever feels up to the task can come. The more the merrier."

That was exactly Sirius's sentiment, too. He was glad to hear two days later that four more people had volunteered, bringing the total to nine. Sirius's giddy excitement, however, had lasted only a few hours after it had been decided that Harry would be coming here in two days. Sirius couldn't manage to hold on to the positive side of things. After going over everything he wanted to tell Harry and show him and do with him, Sirius remembered that he couldn't do any of these things.

He couldn't go with Harry to his hearing, couldn't show him the park across from Remus's flat where the grass was so soft. He wasn't allowed to tell Harry about any of the things going on with the Order, and he most likely couldn't have breakfast alone with Harry and Remus every morning. All Sirius could do was stay in this house and put on a brave face for Harry, who was probably scared out of his wits and angry with Sirius for not giving him a scrap of news all summer. Sirius couldn't blame him for being angry, but he sincerely hoped that Harry would be able to forgive him quickly, seeing as they only had limited time together.

Unless Harry wouldn't be allowed back to Hogwarts. That thought was another one that kept Sirius up all night, tossing and turning. Remus grunted in his sleep whenever Sirius shifted positions, tugging at the covers. Finally sick of lying around, Sirius got up to open the window, letting in the warm summer night's air. He put his elbows on the windowsill and sighed, looking at the waning moon. What would he do if Harry would be expelled? What would he do if he wasn't? Sirius felt guilt tying a knot in his throat and tried to swallow past it. Could he find it in himself to be happy for Harry? He thought he did, but what if...?

Did that make Sirius a bad godfather? Was he a horrible person for not knowing whether he should be happy for Harry or not? He thought he was. He must be. Who would wish a life like his own on someone else? And Sirius didn't. He truly didn't wish this on Harry; he didn't want him to be stuck here with Sirius and his bad mood that had already managed to make Remus sick of him. He only wished for him and Harry to be together. More than anything, Sirius wished for some true company.

"What are you thinking about?" came Remus's soft voice from the bed behind Sirius. There was a rustling of bedsheets, then the sound of Remus's naked feet on the floor. "Is it Harry again?"

Sirius only nodded. Remus stepped next to him, glancing at him for a moment before looking up at the moon as well. They didn't speak for a while, and Sirius was glad that he didn't have to explain himself to Remus. But he hadn't forgotten having promised Remus to open the door between them, and he was determined to keep that promise. So, after a while, Sirius lifted his elbows off the windowsill and turned to Remus, who turned to face him as well.

"I want him to go back to Hogwarts," Sirius started, and he could see even in the darkness that Remus was surprised by his sudden revelation.

"But you also don't," Remus said.

It was Sirius's turn to be surprised. "I'm either rubbish at hiding my thoughts, or you just know me way too well," he said with a chuckle.

Remus snorted. "Maybe a mix of both?" he suggested. "But do carry on."

Sirius nodded. "Yes, well, I wouldn't mind him not being allowed to return. Then he could live here with me. With us."

The smile on Remus's lips turned sad. It was a minuscule shift, but Sirius caught it as if it had been screaming at him to notice. He knew what Remus was thinking: that Harry wasn't safe here. Even if he were to be expelled, he would have to go back to his aunt and uncle's. He would never be allowed to live here. Not until the Ministry started to face the facts and provide extra security. Not until the war was won. Not until Voldemort was gone.

"You don't have to say it," Sirius sighed, his shoulders sagging. "I know. But I..." He shrugged. "I like to think that we could be a proper family. The three of us."

"I know, Sirius," Renus said and lifted his hand to cup Sirius's face. "But even if he goes back to Hogwarts, he'll come back here. You are his home, Sirius. Not this house. Not his aunt's. You."

Sirius sighed and melted jnto Remus's touch. Talking isn't so hard, he thought. Even if Remus didn't have the solutions to everything, only sharing the problems with him felt like a burden off of Sirius's shoulders. Maybe, Sirius dared to hope, maybe I don't have to be quite so miserable all the time.