Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Early 1980, Their Flat in London

Sirius Black had fought a lot of things in his life. His family, expectations, the weight of his own name. But nothing, nothing, was as exhausting as fighting the absolute disaster that was Auror training exams.

He groaned dramatically, forehead dropping onto the pile of parchment spread across their tiny coffee table in front of the sofa. "Moony," he whined, voice muffled. "I am dying. Right here. This is my death. You are a witness."

Remus, sitting across from him at the sofa with his own book, glanced up, lips twitching. "You're not dying, love."

Sirius turned his head just enough to glare at him, eyes dark with betrayal. "How do you know? Have you tried memorizing the entire revised Auror Code of Conduct while simultaneously preparing for a practical duel against Mad-Eye bloody Moody?"

Remus sighed, setting his book aside and leaning forward, arms resting on the table. His gaze softened. "Pads. You've been at this for hours. Take a break."

Sirius shook his head, rubbing at his temple. "I can't. What if I screw this up? What if I get there, and my brain just evacuates, and I end up hexing myself instead of the target?"

Remus bit his lip to keep from laughing, but there was nothing funny about the uncertainty in Sirius’ voice. He reached across the table, taking Sirius’ ink-stained hand in his own, squeezing gently. "You won’t."

Sirius huffed. "And how do you know?"

Remus squeezed again, slow and steady, like a pulse. "Because you're brilliant. Because you’re the best duelist I’ve ever seen, because you’ve worked harder than anyone else for this, and because I know you, Sirius. You don’t fail at things when you care about them."

Sirius blinked. For all his dramatics, for all his bravado, he had never quite known what to do with Remus’ unwavering faith in him.

Remus smiled, tilting his head. "And besides, even if you did hex yourself, I’d still think you were the most incredible wizard in that whole bloody program."

A slow grin spread across Sirius’ face. "You’re just saying that because you love me."

Remus shrugged. "Of course I do. And because it’s true."

Sirius exhaled, a little of the tension draining from his shoulders. Then, abruptly, he stood up, rounded the table, and collapsed into Remus' lap, all long limbs and heavy warmth.

"Pads—"

"Shh. I'm recharging. With Moony energy," Sirius muttered, nuzzling into his neck.

Remus sighed, exasperated but already wrapping his arms around him, fingers sliding up into Sirius’ thick hair. "You're unbearable."

"Yes," Sirius agreed, smiling against his skin. "But I’m also gonna be an Auror. Thanks to you."

Remus pressed a kiss to his temple, lingering. "Thanks to you, love."

Just then there was the jingle of keys outside, and —

James Fleamont Potter

There were many things Remus Lupin had learned to endure in his life… pain, transformations, the unbearable weight of constant discrimination but nothing, nothing, tested his patience quite like James Bloody Potter deciding to be a third wheel to whatever soft moment Sirius and Remus were having.

It was, Remus supposed, all the punishment for letting James suffer through secondhand sizzling sexual tension and nonstop secondhand pining while living with both of them in the dorms back at Hogwarts.

"Honestly, Moony, I should be charging you two for therapy," James had once grumbled in their sixth year, watching as Sirius not-so-subtly adjusted Remus’ tie for the third time that morning. "You don’t look like a bloke with bad eyesight, so I’m assuming you can see his tie is fine, Padfoot?"

Sirius had blinked at him blankly. "Shut up, Prongs."

James had turned, exasperated, to Remus, who looked very intently at his Transfiguration textbook, cheeks dusted pink.

"See? That! That right there!" James had thrown his hands up in frustration. "That’s what I’ve been dealing with for years! You two are a bloody nightmare!"

And now, over two years later, James Potter had made it his life’s mission to ruin every single soft moment Sirius and Remus ever had as retribution.

Remus Lupin, for all his sighing and long-suffering expressions, was also terribly fond of James Potter.

It was infuriating, really.

Because as much as James Potter was a menace, a walking tornado of energy and loud opinions, he was also one of the best people Remus had ever known.

So, the moment the front door of their flat banged open, followed by a very loud, "MOONY! PADS! I HAVE ARRIVED!", Remus already knew his peaceful afternoon was over.

Sirius groaned into Remus’ neck, mumbling something about murder and hiding a body before tightening his grip around Remus as if to make it clear that he wasn’t moving. "Go away, Prongs," he muttered. "I’m busy."

James, however, was not one to take hints.

"Oh, brilliant!" James grinned, marching right over, hands already outstretched like some kind of overgrown golden retriever ready to pounce. "Moony energy session, huh? Love that for us—move over, Pads, let me in on this."

And before Remus could so much as blink, James had launched himself at them, arms wrapping around them both in a completely uninvited embrace.

"PRONGS!" Sirius yelped, trying to swat him away. "NO! THIS IS NOT FOR YOU!"

But James only held tighter, laughing in that carefree, delighted way of his, completely unaffected by Sirius’ attempts to fight him off. "Friendship sandwich, mate! Let it happen!"

Remus sighed heavily, tipping his head back against the back of the sofa, deadpan. "I’m breaking up with both of you."

"Traitor!" Sirius accused, dramatically flailing an arm. "You were meant to protect me!"

"I never agreed to that," Remus muttered, though he made no actual move to untangle himself.

James gasped in mock hurt, squeezing them both tighter. "After everything we’ve been through? And here I thought I was the love of both your lives."

"Oh, please," came Lily’s amused voice from the doorway.

They all turned to find Lily leaning against the frame, arms folded across her small but steadily growing bump, lips curved in a knowing smirk.

"James, you’re lucky they even let you in the flat," she teased, stepping closer.

“Pfft, lucky? I have the freaking key.” James said proudly.

“Which we never gave you.” Remus deadpanned.

Sirius, was still wrestling James off of him with all the ferocity of a man protecting his claim, Remus just sat back on the worn-out sofa, arms crossed, watching the chaos unfold with mild amusement.

“Prongs, for the love of Merlin, get off!” Sirius grunted, trying to push James away from where he was attempting to burrow between them. “Moony-energy is exclusive!”

“I don’t see why I can’t have some!” James whined dramatically, gripping onto Remus’ sleeve. “I was emotionally tormented for years by the slow burn hellfire you two put me through! At the very least you owe me!”

Sirius actually snarled and tightened his grip around Remus' waist, yanking him further into his lap as if to physically remove him from James’ grasp. "Get your own Moony!"

James gasped, wounded. "I found him first!"

Remus rolled his eyes, sighing. "And yet, you still married Lily instead of professing your undying love for me. Such a shame, really. We could have had it all, Prongs."

James perked up instantly, leaning in conspiratorially. "I know, right? Imagine our combined academic power—"

“Oh, shut up,” Sirius groaned, trying to shove him off again. “You have Lily! Go steal her energy.”

James sniffed, hand over his heart. “I would, but she’s currently too busy talking to her other true love.”

Next to the sofa, Lily Potter, glowingly pregnant, looked up from where she had sat down on the armchair and smirked. “He means the baby.”

Remus grinned, warmth curling in his chest as he watched her.

Then, in a softer voice, she rubbed her small bump, whispering, “See, Harry? This is what you’re going to have to deal with. Your father and his idiot friends—Your uncles. No hope for you, really."

James turned, beaming. "Harry likes me best, actually. Isn’t that right, kid?" He looked down dramatically toward her belly. "Tell them, little Prongslet. Tell them I’m the best."

Lily rolled her eyes, patting his cheek. "Keep talking to my stomach like that, Potter, and the baby’s first word is going to be ‘help’."

Remus, shaking with laughter, finally took pity on Sirius and shoved James off them with a well-placed elbow. Sirius, triumphant, immediately wrapped himself around Remus once more, chin resting atop his head, arms locked in place.

"Mine," Sirius muttered, smug, nuzzling against him like an oversized cat. "No Jameses allowed."

James, flat on the floor where he’d landed, sighed dramatically. "No one appreciates me," he grumbled.

"You’re right," Remus agreed.

James pouted. Lily giggled. “You guys are idiots.”

James, finally abandoning his campaign for Moony-energy, turned towards his wife and practically melted. “Oh, Evans, love of my life, say that again.”

Lily gave him a look but smiled anyway. "Your idiot friends, James. Idiots."

James beamed.

Sirius, who had successfully reclaimed his place wrapped around Remus like an overly possessive human-shaped blanket, huffed and rested his chin on Remus' shoulder.

Remus sighed, tilting his head slightly to press a lingering kiss to Sirius’ temple.

James made an offended sound. "See! That! That’s exactly what I meant! I suffered through years of you two doing that in the dorms—pretending you weren’t desperately in love—"

"Oh, fuck off, Prongs," Sirius groaned, launching a cushion at him.

James caught it effortlessly, smug as ever.

Lily, barely glancing up from her book as she flipped a page, muttered, "Honestly, I don’t know why you act surprised, love. You chose this life."

James grinned, sauntered over, and pressed a kiss to Lily’s temple before turning back to Sirius and Remus with the shamelessness of a man who knew no shame.

"I really did… so, what’s for dinner?"

Chapter Text

Fourth year, Great Hall, Almost Christmas.

“I’m telling you; they have free will!” Sirius argued, waving his toast around like a madman. “Why else would they run?”

“They’re bewitched!” James shot back, exasperated. “They don’t think, Pads! They just do.”

Peter, stuffing an entire sausage into his mouth, mumbled, “What if they do think? What if they’re, like, terrified? Have you ever considered that?”

“Exactly!” Sirius pointed at Peter like he had just won the most important case of his career. “See? Wormy gets it. They have little chocolatey lives. They probably have families. Tiny chocolate frog children.”

“Right, Moony?”

Remus, who had only been half-listening, turned automatically.

It was almost a week to the fourth year Christmas break; they had all done the mandrake leaf in mouth for one month thing by now and thus had begun James’ brilliant plan of them becoming Animagi. It was proving difficult, considering the complexities of the transformation, as they have yet to find a Death's-head Hawk Moth chrysalis. James was still working through the technicalities, but that hadn’t stopped them from calling each other by the forms they were hoping to take, purely based on their patronuses.

“Moony will agree with me,” Sirius declared smugly, flashing his most charming, most infuriatingly beautiful smile.

“Yeah, Pads,” Remus said without hesitation, not even processing what he was agreeing to.

And that was when it hit him.

Like—really hit him.

Sirius was grinning, all sharp teeth and dimples, his stupidly perfect hair a mess from where James had probably shoved him earlier. His eyes were bright, his cheeks still flushed from whatever nonsense they had been up to before breakfast.

And bollocks.

Sirius Black was the most beautiful person in the world.

The thought was so loud, so painfully obvious, that Remus almost choked on his tea.

“See? Moony agrees with me,” Sirius crowed, looking victorious.

James narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Hang on. You weren’t even listening, were you?”

Remus quickly shoved a piece of toast into his mouth. “Mmhph.”

“That means no,” Peter translated helpfully.

“That means betrayal,” James corrected, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

Sirius just laughed, completely unbothered, bumping his shoulder against Remus’. “Don’t worry, love, I’ll forgive you.”

The word love had been thrown so casually into the sentence, so effortlessly, that it shouldn’t have meant anything. Sirius called people love all the time, he even called James sweetheart on occasion, just to see if it would give him hives.

Remus’ brain short-circuited.

And just like that—

Oh.

I love him.

And it terrified him.

Not because he loved Sirius… he had known, deep down, that he always had. Loving Sirius was woven into him, as effortless as existing, as constant as the pull of the moon. It was something undeniable, something he never even thought to question.

What terrified him was the sheer impossibility of it. The thought that Sirius could never feel the same. The weight of the what-ifs that clung to the edges of his mind, relentless and unkind. What if Sirius never looked at him that way? What if this love, so easy and so absolute, was meant to be only his? What if loving Sirius meant breaking his own heart?

And Sirius—oblivious, radiant, devastatingly perfect—just turned back to James, continuing his very serious chocolate frog debate, laughing like he hadn’t just unknowingly shattered Remus’ entire world.

Remus sat frozen, heart pounding, hands curled tightly around his cup, staring at his tea like it held the secrets of the universe. It felt like something had shifted, something irreversible, something that had always been there but had only now chosen to make itself known. And with that knowing came the quiet, sinking dread of inevitability.

"Are you okay, Moons?" James’ voice cut through the haze. “You’re looking a little pale there.”

"Fine," Remus mumbled, the lie thick on his tongue. He pushed back from the table abruptly, not daring a backward glance as he made his way out of the Great Hall, his pulse a frantic drum against his ribs. He had to get out of there, he was feeling too much. 

Behind him, he heard Sirius shift. "I should go check on him—something’s wrong," he said, already standing.

James sighed. "Pads, give him a minute. If something's wrong, he’ll tell us when he’s ready."

But Remus wasn’t sure he ever would. Honestly, he should have seen this coming.

But knowing that his feelings ran this deep…so deep that they settled into his very bones was somehow both shocking and comforting.

And, Merlin help him, there was no going back now.

*

Remus Lupin had known love in many forms—his mother’s soft hums as she tucked him into bed, his father’s firm hand ruffling his hair, the way James and Peter threw their arms around him after a well-fought match of Exploding Snap. But this—this was different.

This was Sirius Black, with his sharp grin and storm-cloud eyes, his impossible energy, his warmth like the center of a fire on the coldest of nights.

And Remus realized it far too early. Too early.

There had been moments leading up to it, of course.

Maybe it happened the moment they became friends.

Becoming friends with Sirius Black had been effortless—like something that simply was, something that had been written into the fabric of the universe before Remus even realized it. From the very first year, the moment Sirius had grinned at him and said, "Educate me, Lupin," it was already over.

At first, Remus had been hesitant. Wary in the way that only a boy with too many secrets could be. He kept his head down, answered questions when asked, tried not to draw attention to himself.

But his friends had changed that.

James and Sirius—ever the inseparables, loud and reckless and larger than life—and Peter, with his easy laughter and wicked sense of humor, had welcomed him into their world like he had always belonged.

By the time Halloween rolled around, they were already a pack.

But Remus had always been drawn to Sirius. Too much, too fast, like stepping too close to an open fire, close to feel the scorching heat, not enough to let him burn. He ignored it, but he never fought it, nor acknowledged it.

Because Sirius was his friend. His best friend. And that had to be enough.

Until… now

*

He didn’t fight the feeling. It never even occurred to him to remind himself not to be this fond.

Even in second year, when the four of them had spent hours outside, running through the snow like absolute menaces while the rest of the school sought warmth inside.

And Sirius Black, being Sirius Black, had been utterly, entirely, unreasonably ridiculous about it. He had declared that there must be an ultimate snowball fight.

It was the dead of winter, and Sirius and James had, naturally, been the ringleaders of whatever chaotic war they were waging against the Slytherins. Peter had been valiantly trying to keep up.

And Remus… Remus was cold.

“I’m done,” he had declared, huddling deeper into his scarf. “I’m going inside before I lose feeling in my limbs.”

“Moony, no,” Sirius had gasped, grabbing his wrist like Remus had just announced something catastrophic. “You can’t just leave. We’re on the brink of victory. You are our best shooter.”

“You lost me at we,” Remus had deadpanned.

But then Sirius had looked at him—really looked at him.

And without a word, he had pulled off his own scarf and wrapped it snugly around Remus’ neck.

Remus had blinked. Ears getting hotter. 

“There,” Sirius had said, utterly pleased with himself, a satisfied little smile on his lips. “Now you can’t complain about being cold.” Then, as if that hadn’t already sent Remus’ brain into a complete meltdown, he had patted his cheek. Soft. Thoughtless. Casual.

Remus had opened his mouth to protest, to say something, anything… all the while wondering why his cheeks were burning. 

But then Sirius had lobbed a snowball straight at James’ face and taken off running, howling with laughter.

And Remus—Merlin help him—had just followed.

That had been the moment. Probably the exact moment. When something inside him shifted.

But he hadn’t acknowledged it.

Not yet.

*

Or maybe it was the night James and Sirius discovered, that he was a werewolf.

Remus had been so careful.

For a year and a half, he had managed to keep the truth hidden. Every full moon, he’d swallowed down the excuses, the carefully crafted lies about sick relatives, about his own weak constitution. Madam Pomfrey had helped, Dumbledore had ensured secrecy, and for all his worrying, his friends never questioned it.

Until tonight.

Until James Bloody Potter and Sirius Fucking Black hidden under the invisibility cloak, decided that Remus Lupin was hiding something far too interesting for them not to investigate.

The Whomping Willow stood before him, its long, knotted branches eerily still in the windless night. The moment he stepped closer, the passage would open, leading him to the Shrieking Shack.

The air shifted.

Footsteps.

Remus turned, dread crawling up his spine. “Who?”

“Oi! Lupin!” Sirius’ voice rang through the night, sharp with confusion. “Where the hell are you going?”

Remus’ stomach dropped.

James was right behind him, wand out, brows furrowed in concern.

“What’s going on?” James asked. “Why are you sneaking out—”

Remus felt his heart stutter in panic, his breathing going shallow. The moon, the bloody moon, he could feel it tugging at him, pulling at his skin, his bones—

“Go back!” His voice cracked, but he didn’t care. He turned, grabbing fistfuls of Sirius’ robes, shoving him back toward the castle. “You can’t be here! Please, just—go!”

“What? Why—”

“Remus, what’s going on?” James asked, stepping forward.

“DON’T—”

Too late.

The transformation hit like a tidal wave.

Pain, raw and excruciating, ripped through him, knocking him to his knees, his fingers clawing at the dirt as his body broke itself apart to become something other.

He heard Sirius shout his name.

James lunged forward, but the branches of the Whomping Willow lashed out, sending him sprawling back.

Remus barely registered it.

The full moon broke through the clouds.

His fingers spasmed against Sirius’ robes before slipping away entirely.

Somewhere, far away, he could hear them yelling—his name, frantic and confused, but the words weren’t making sense anymore. Everything was splitting, breaking, twisting.

His mind fractured.

The last thing he remembered was Sirius’ face—eyes huge, mouth slightly parted, terror and realization dawning all at once—

And then everything went black.

*

When Remus woke, he could barely breathe through the pain. His limbs felt like lead, every muscle screaming in protest, his skin a patchwork of bruises and shallow cuts. A grim reminder of the monster that lived inside him. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know where he was.

The Hospital Wing.

He had woken up in this bed more times than he could count. But this time was different. He could feel he wasn’t alone.

The air was different. Heavy.

Something was different.

He cracked his eyes open, wincing at the brightness, his vision still fogged with exhaustion. Two figures sat by his bed. Looking disheveled, slumped, dark circles under their eyes.

James Potter and Sirius Black.

Remus’ stomach turned.

They knew.

Oh, God, they knew.

James was hunched forward, forearms braced on his knees, glasses askew like he’d run a hand through his hair a thousand times. His expression was tight, tense, more serious than Remus had ever seen it.

Sirius sat stiffly beside him, hands curled into white-knuckled fists against his thighs, his entire body wound so tightly he looked ready to snap. His usually effortless, composed presence was gone—replaced by something raw, something shaken.

The silence stretched, thick with the weight of what had changed.

And then—

“You bloody idiot,” James snapped.

Remus flinched.

His throat was raw when he rasped, “I told you not to follow me.”

“Oh, shove off, Rem,” Sirius bit out, his voice shaking in a way that made something ugly twist in Remus’ chest. “How can you—” but then his voice cracked, and oh.

Remus finally looked at him properly.

Sirius’ eyes were red. Like he had been crying.

Remus stared.

Sirius Black did not cry.

The fear in his eyes—so foreign, so utterly unfamiliar on him—was unbearable.

“We—” Sirius swallowed hard, his breath uneven, his voice splintering at the edges. “We thought—”

“You were alone,” James cut in, quieter now, but no less furious. “Every single month, you went through that alone.”

He inhaled sharply, scrubbing a hand down his face, like he was trying to ground himself. His voice, when he spoke again, was heavy. “Remus, you should’ve told us.”

Remus turned his head away, staring at the ceiling.

“I didn’t want you to know,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper, his throat tightening.

Sirius twitched.

“You didn’t want us to know,” he echoed, and fuck—his voice was wrecked. There was something jagged, something breaking in it. “You didn’t want us to know—like we wouldn’t care? Like we wouldn’t—” He sucked in a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair, looking like he was drowning.

Remus clenched his jaw, twisting his fingers into the sheets. “I didn’t want you to be scared.”

James blinked.

“Scared?” he echoed.

Remus swallowed hard. “Of me.”

Silence.

And then—

“Oh, sod off, Rem,” Sirius growled, and before Remus could even process it, Sirius lunged.

Not in anger. Not in fear. But in relief. In devastation.

He grabbed Remus by the collar and hugged him.

Tight.

Like he was trying to physically hold him together.

Remus froze.

James followed immediately after, clambering onto the bed, shoving his way into the hug, his arms strong and grounding.

“You complete and utter tosser,” James muttered, his hand firm on the back of Remus’ head. “We’re not scared of you, you prat.”

Remus exhaled sharply, his fingers clenching into Sirius’ robes.

“You should be,” he choked out.

Sirius pulled back just enough to meet his eyes; his grip still iron-tight on Remus’ arms.

His expression softened, just a fraction—but his voice, when he spoke, was unshakable.

“We never will be,” he murmured. Then, a small smirk flickered across his face, like he couldn’t help himself. “Mate, I’ve seen you arrange your underwear in color-coded sections. That’s the most terrifying thing about you.”

Remus let out a shaky, almost disbelieving laugh—because Sirius Black could make a joke at any moment, and yet somehow, somehow, it worked.

Sirius’ smirk faded, his gaze growing fiercer. “You hear me, Lupin? Never.”

And Remus felt something in his chest break.

Because they meant it.

Despite everything.

Despite the fear.

Despite the truth.

They were still here.

They weren’t leaving.

And for the first time in his entire life, he let himself believe it.

That night, they told Peter. And what had already been an unshakable friendship became something even stronger. Something indestructible. They weren’t just friends anymore.

They were brothers.

*

In his third year, the realization came quietly.

It wasn’t dramatic, like in the stories. No fireworks, no grand, earth-shattering moment. Just a slow, creeping knowing that settled deep into his chest and refused to leave.

It happened in the dead of night, a week after his birthday, after the full moon had wrung him dry, leaving him aching, hollowed-out, barely stitched together.

He had been trembling in his sleep—he always did after a bad moon—but then, suddenly, warmth.

Sirius had climbed into bed with him, just like that, slipping beneath the covers, pressing himself close like he belonged there. Like he had always belonged there.

And he had.

Because they had done this before.

Remus had sought Sirius’ warmth more times than he could count—had slipped into his bed on nights when the walls of the dormitory felt too tight, too suffocating. When the echoes of his own screams still clung to the air, when the pain hadn’t quite left his bones, when he felt too much like the thing inside him.

But it wasn’t just him.

Sirius had come to him, too. After Christmas breaks, after long summers at Grimmauld Place, when he returned to Hogwarts with hidden bruises and eyes that were a little too dull, a little too empty.

And those nights, it had been Remus who had held him—who had wiped his tears without a word, grounding him with soft touches and hushed reassurances. Sirius never talked about it, never explained the bruises, the quiet desperation in his voice when he whispered in his sleep, Let me out... please let me out.

And Remus had never asked.

Because he understood.

Tonight, should have been no different.

But when Sirius shifted closer, arms winding around Remus like it was instinct, like it was the most natural thing in the world—something changed.

“Hush, Moony,” he had murmured against his hair, voice rough with sleep. “The worst is over now. You’re here.”

It was so casual, so effortless, the way Sirius fit against him, the way his breath ghosted over Remus’ skin, the way he held him like it was second nature. Like this was his place.

Remus froze.

Sirius’ heartbeat was steady beneath his palm, his warmth seeping into every aching part of him, and Remus—Remus couldn’t breathe.

Because it wasn’t just comfort anymore.

It wasn’t just friendship.

And just like that—

The realization settled in his bones like truth. Quiet, steady, inevitable, as he fell asleep.

***

He barely remembered leaving the Great Hall.

One moment, he was drowning in Sirius’ smile, in the weight of a realization he hadn’t been ready for, and the next, he was outside, the crisp December air biting at his skin, his breath coming out in uneven puffs of white.

The world felt too loud, too bright, too much. His pulse hammered against his ribs, his stomach twisted itself into impossible knots, and his mind—his traitorous, bloody mind—refused to stop replaying the moment over and over again.

Oh. I love him.

He braced himself against the stone wall of the castle, fingers pressing into the cold, willing himself to steady his breathing. But it did nothing to quell the rush of memories, the quiet, creeping moments that had built up to this.

Sirius laughing, head thrown back, fearless and brilliant and so alive.

Sirius, curling into his side in the dead of night, tucking himself under Remus’ chin like he belonged there.

Sirius, his, all warmth and sharp edges, untouchable and yet the closest thing to home Remus had ever known.

It had always been there, hadn’t it? In the way his heart skipped when Sirius looked at him, in the way he memorized every freckle, every scar, every shift of expression. In the way he never quite knew what to do with himself whenever Sirius touched him, no matter how casually.

He had just been too much of a coward to acknowledge it.

The door behind him creaked open.

"Moons?"

Sirius’ voice, low and hesitant.

Remus tensed. He wanted to run. He should run.

But then Sirius stepped forward, his brows drawn together, his usual bravado softened by something uncertain. Something careful.

“You alright?” Sirius asked, and Merlin, he had no idea how dangerous that question was. How much it threatened to split Remus right open.

Remus forced himself to nod, even as his throat tightened. “Yeah. Just needed some air.”

Sirius hummed, unconvinced. “You sort of bolted. James was about to stage an intervention.”

That almost made him smile.

Almost.

Instead, he swallowed down the lump in his throat, forced his voice to stay even. “I just… needed a moment.”

Sirius tilted his head, watching him. "You sure?"

No. No, he was not sure. He was about as far from sure as a person could possibly be.

But Sirius was here, standing so close, looking at him with that quiet intensity that had always undone him. And Remus—God help him—was weak.

"Yeah," he said again, quieter this time.

Sirius hesitated for a beat longer, then, as if deciding something, sighed and bumped their shoulders together. “Well, if you need another moment, I can keep you company.”

Remus exhaled shakily, but nodded.

They stood there, side by side in the cold, the weight of unspoken things settling between them.

And Remus, for the first time, let himself feel it.

Not fight it. Not bury it. Just… feel.

And, Merlin help him, he was so utterly doomed.

The realization sat heavy in his chest, warm and terrifying all at once. He had known, deep down, that he had always loved Sirius in some way but now it had a shape, a name, a certainty that he could never take back.

“Moony.”

Sirius’ voice was softer now, the usual playful lilt edged with concern. He stepped closer, cautious in a way Sirius Black never was, like he wasn’t sure if Remus would run again.

“Something’s wrong,” Sirius said, brows furrowing. “You looked like you were gonna be sick back there.”

Remus forced a laugh, but it came out weak. “I’m fine, Pads. Just… tired.”

Sirius didn’t buy it. Of course he didn’t. Sirius could read him too well, had been able to for years. But still, after a beat, he sighed and let it go, because that’s what they did.

For now.

“C’mon, love,” Sirius said, bumping his shoulder, smiling that stupid, breathtaking smile. “Come back inside. James is spouting some absolute nonsense, and I need you to help me put him in his place.”

And fuck. That nickname again. Casual, effortless, unknowing.

Remus swallowed hard, plastered on a smirk, and let Sirius pull him back inside.

And just like that, he fell a little deeper, and followed him inside.

Thus began The Great Remus Lupin Pining of the Century.

Chapter Text

Sometime after Harry goes to First year and they have the house to themselves

Sirius was still fuming, arms crossed, back pressed against the pillows, glaring down at the man between his thighs.

"I’m still mad at you," he muttered, voice hoarse—though it was starting to lose its edge.

Remus hummed, his breath warm against Sirius' hip as he pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss there.

"I know," he said, voice far too calm, far too composed. "And I'm sincerely apologizing."

Sirius gasped, fingers twitching in Remus' hair as another finger stretched him open—deliberate, teasing. He clenched his jaw, trying to hold onto the frustration, but it was slipping through his fingers like sand.

"You—you’re still a git," he panted, trying to sound cross, but it came out more desperate than anything.

Remus grinned against his skin. "Mmhm," he agreed, entirely unrepentant. His fingers curled just right, and Sirius arched, a breathless moan escaping him.

"You're manipulating me," Sirius accused, but it was weak, barely a whisper.

Remus leaned up, biting gently at his thigh before kissing the mark, his voice dark with amusement. "Love, if I were manipulating you, you'd already be begging."

Sirius opened his mouth—probably to argue, maybe to curse—but whatever he was about to say died on his tongue as Remus pressed another slow, teasing kiss to his stomach and slid in another finger.

Sirius shuddered, back arching, hands fisting in the sheets.

"Still mad?" Remus murmured, smug.

Sirius’ reply was nothing more than a breathless whimper.

"Didn't think so," Remus muttered, and finally, finally gave Sirius exactly what he wanted.

Sirius flopped back down with a huff. “I am not speaking to you.”

And wondered how he found himself in this predicament. Naked. Writhing. Absolutely ruined.

Oh. Right. Chocolate.

That was only fifteen minutes ago. The way Remus had absolutely ruined him with his mouth and fingers.

Yeah, Sirius had been fuming. Only fifteen minutes ago.

Not just regular, everyday fuming. Full-blown, catastrophic levels of righteous fury.

Because Remus ate the last of his fancy imported chocolate… the one he had been saving, the one he had hidden inside a locked box, inside another locked box, inside his sock drawer, warded with protective charms.

And Remus, Remus Lupin, his boyfriend, his moony, the love of his life—of all people had the audacity to not only find it, eat it, and then not even lie about it.

Yeah he was shouting fifteen minutes ago.

“You knew I was saving that, Moony!” Sirius wailed, dramatically flopping onto the bed, clutching his chest like he had suffered a mortal wound.

Remus, entirely unbothered, looked up from his book with the mild exasperation of a man who had endured Sirius Black’s theatrics for a decade.

“You left chocolate alone in this house, my love. That’s on you.”

Sirius gasped, true, raw betrayal written across his face.

"That was a gift, Moony! Do you know how rare that chocolate is? Do you know how much effort I put into hiding it?!"

Remus turned a page, completely unconcerned. “Clearly not enough effort.”

“I warded it!” Sirius sat up, throwing his hands in the air. “It was inside a locked box, inside another locked box, inside my sock drawer, covered with protective charms!”

Remus finally looked at him over his book, brow raised. “And yet, here we are.”

And then after slowly setting his book down, Moony had stood up, kissed him, before he could utter another word.

And now, fifteen minutes of some very filthy things later, Sirius was thinking and realizing maybe, just maybe—he could forgive Remus for the Great Chocolate Robbery of the Century.

Just as he was about to launch into yet another very serious, very dramatic monologue about his suffering, Remus flicked his wand with a lazy, effortless motion. From somewhere downstairs, the sound of rustling filled the air, followed by the unmistakable whoosh of something small and fast soaring toward them.

A neatly wrapped parcel landed gently on the bed beside them.

Sirius blinked at the chocolate in disbelief.

“You—” Sirius started, only to stop when Remus kissed the tip of his nose. “I bought more the moment I ate the last one. You know I’d never actually let you go without.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes, even as his entire body went lax under Remus’ careful attention.

“You planned this,” Sirius accused, voice thick with exhaustion and satisfaction.

Because, of course, he had already replaced it.

Remus hummed, tilting his head, fingers brushing through Sirius’ messy, sweat-dampened hair. “I always take care of what’s mine.”

Sirius melted. 

Remus smirked, so utterly pleased with himself that Sirius immediately felt the first hints of his irritation dissolving.

"So your favorite chocolate," Remus confirmed, voice warm, impossibly fond. "Considering how you keep going on about how it's the best thing to ever happen to you—"

Sirius gasped, scandalized. "It is the best thing to ever happen to me!"

Remus arched an unimpressed brow, his expression a perfect balance of mischief and amusement. "Oh? Good to know where I rank, then."

Without hesitation, Sirius threw himself into Remus’ lap, arms wrapping around his neck, his entire body melting against him as if he belonged there. (Which, obviously, he did.)

"You," he purred, nuzzling into Remus' throat, "love of my life, moon of my existence, keeper of my sanity, are tied with the chocolate."

Remus snorted, shaking his head as he ran a slow, steady hand down Sirius’ bare back, fingertips tracing absentminded patterns along his spine. “Merlin, you’re ridiculous.”

Sirius grinned, completely unrepentant. “And yet, here you are, completely smitten with me.”

Remus sighed like he was suffering, but his hands never stopped moving gently grounding Sirius. So impossibly affectionate. Instead of arguing (which, really, would be futile), he unwrapped the chocolate, breaking off a square and holding it up to Sirius’ lips.

Sirius, moved even closer across Remus’ lap, parted his lips without hesitation, letting Remus press the chocolate onto his tongue. It melted instantly, rich and smooth, decadent and sinful, and Sirius moaned, actually moaned—eyes fluttering as he savored the taste.

Remus watched him, an amused, hopelessly endeared expression softening his entire face. His thumb brushed along Sirius’ cheek, slowly, and then traced down to his jaw, skimming across his lower lip where a smudge of chocolate lingered.

And then he turned his head to take another chocolate piece.

“Moony.” Sirius frowned.

Remus hummed, still absently stroking his cheek. "Mmm?"

Sirius narrowed his eyes.

"You can’t just look at my lips like that and not kiss me, baby" he accused, pouting.

Remus, utterly insufferable, tilted his head in mock thoughtfulness. “Can’t I?”

Sirius made a truly indignant sound. One that belonged in a courtroom or possibly a Shakespearean tragedy—before he launched himself forward, tackling Remus onto the bed, knocking the chocolate aside.

"You absolutely cannot," he declared, a wild grin curling at his lips, before devouring Remus in a kiss. So deep, slow, and entirely too sweet.

“I take it you have forgiven me then?” Remus mumbled between Sirius’ too sweet kisses across his lips. 

Sirius just hummed biting Remus’ lips, licking and devouring his mouth along with more chocolate. 

Yeah… The chocolate was delicious, but nothing, nothing tasted better than Remus Lupin.

Chapter Text

Moony’s Birthday – A Throwback to 19

The flat smelled like warm chocolate and candle wax, the air thick with something soft, something safe.

Sirius had spent the entire day plotting, planning, and executing what he was calling "The Greatest Moony Birthday of All Time." He had insisted on keeping Remus out of the flat all afternoon, shoving a few galleons in his hand and demanding he go buy himself something nice or at least pretend to.

Now, standing in the middle of their tiny kitchen, his hair a mess, flour dusting the tip of his nose, Sirius grinned as he admired his masterpiece.

A cake, a real one. A bit lopsided, maybe, and there was definitely more icing than necessary, but it was made by his own two hands, dammit. And, next to it on the table, a stack of presents, wrapped terribly, but wrapped nonetheless.

And then, of course, the grandest addition, a handmade, glitter-covered banner strung across their bookshelves that read in bright, enchanted letters:

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY MOST HANDSOME, BRILLIANT, EXQUISITE MOONY!”

Sirius was quite pleased with himself.

Then the door creaked open.

Remus stepped inside, tired, wind-blown, cheeks pink from his walk. His eyes flickered over the scene before him. 

And then landed on Sirius, standing in the middle of it all, covered in what looked like half the ingredients of the cake.

For a moment, he just stared.

Then,

A breathless, uncontrollable laugh burst out of him, something warm, something Sirius hadn’t heard in a long time.

“Oh, my Godric,” Remus wheezed, setting his bag down and rubbing a hand over his face. “What, what have you done?”

Sirius beamed, arms wide, an absolute menace.

“I have,” he declared, far too proud, “given you the best birthday of your life.”

Remus bit his lip, eyes flicking from the chaotic cake to the ridiculous banner to the mess that was Sirius Black standing in the middle of it all.

And then, He crossed the room in three steps, grabbed Sirius by the face, and kissed him.

A slow, lingering kiss, full of laughter and warmth, the kind that said I love you, I love you, I love you.

Sirius, breathless when they pulled apart, smirked. “I take it you’re impressed?”

Remus, grinning, leaned his forehead against his.

“You are an absolute disaster,” he murmured, nose brushing Sirius’ cheek.

Sirius hummed, arms wrapping around Remus’ waist. “Ah, but I’m your disaster.”

Remus sighed dramatically, but held him closer. “Unfortunately.”

Sirius laughed, then tugged him toward the table. “Come on, Moony, let’s ruin our teeth on this god-awful cake I made you.”

Remus let himself be pulled along, his heart full, his birthday already perfect.

Later, much later, when the cake had been eaten (or rather, Sirius had stolen all the icing and left the rest for Remus) and the presents unwrapped, they ended up tangled together on the couch.

Sirius had planned everything, except this.

Remus, pressed against him, half on top of him, the soft glow of candlelight casting warm shadows along his bare shoulders. His shirt was lost somewhere on the floor, his skin still flushed from laughter, from warmth, from Sirius’ hands trailing over him with deliberate slowness.

“You really outdid yourself,” Remus murmured, voice low, rough from cake and kisses.

Sirius smirked, fingers ghosting over Remus’ ribs, teasing. “And yet, you still haven’t given me my thank you.”

Remus huffed a laugh, then dipped down, pressing his mouth to Sirius’ throat. “I’m working on it.”

Sirius’ breath hitched as Remus’ teeth scraped lightly, his lips following, his tongue tracing the pulse beneath his jaw. His hips pressed down, deliberate, slow, teasing.

“Fuck, Moony—”

Remus grinned against his skin, his hands slipping beneath the hem of Sirius’ jumper, pushing it up, fingertips dragging over warm, bare skin.

Sirius exhaled sharply, his own hands finding Remus’ back, tracing the dips of his spine, memorizing the way he trembled slightly beneath his palms.

Remus sat up, straddling him properly now, his fingers hooking into the waistband of Sirius’ trousers, slow and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world to unwrap his final present.

Sirius, dazed, smirking, let his head fall back against the cushions. “Best birthday ever?”

Remus, leaning down, voice thick with laughter, with love, with want,

“Oh, love—”

He pressed his lips to Sirius’, swallowing his next breath, his next word, his next thought.

“—you have no idea.”

Sirius barely had a chance to think before Remus was kissing his way down, trailing his lips across his chest, his stomach, lower.

He paused just long enough to look up at Sirius, golden eyes dark with intent, hands pressing Sirius’ hips down into the couch.

“Moony—” Sirius’ voice was wrecked, barely a breath, as Remus leaned in, let his lips part, and took Sirius’ cock in his mouth, letting himself taste.

Sirius swore he saw stars.

Remus took his time, slow, methodical, enjoying every sharp breath Sirius let out, every shudder.

Sirius’ fingers tangled into Remus’ curls, gripping, desperate, urging him on.

And when Sirius finally fell apart, moaning Remus’ name, trembling beneath him. Remus only smirked, pressing one last kiss to Sirius’ hip, climbing back up to kiss him again.

Sirius, still breathless, dazed, could only whisper, “ Fuck. ”

Remus grinned, settling against him, pressing a lazy, lingering kiss to his lips.

“Happy birthday to me.”

~
Before they could even bask in the afterglow, the door to the flat burst open.

James, Lily, Marlene, Mary, Dorcas, and Peter strode in like a parade, James holding a cake that looked like it had been made from five different recipes fused together. It was a beautiful, colorful disaster.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOONY!” they all shouted in unison.

Remus groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes, while Sirius let out an exasperated sigh and didn’t even bother to untangle himself from Remus.

“For fuck’s sake,” Sirius grumbled, voice still hoarse. “Would it kill you lot to learn how to knock?”

James, entirely unfazed, grinned. “Would it kill you two to exist without being in a compromising position every single time we visit?”

Peter snorted. “Honestly, we’ve just accepted that this flat is a permanent hazard zone.”

Lily smirked. “At this point, we knock for our own safety. ”

Remus, still sprawled over Sirius, completely done with life, turned his head toward James. “It’s official. I’m revoking your key privileges.”

James gasped dramatically. “Moony, no . I have rights.”

Sirius, muttering into Remus’ hair, sighed. “You had rights.”

Dorcas, already cutting into the chaotic cake, shrugged. “Well, we brought dessert. You two might as well get dressed and pretend to be decent for a few minutes.”

Sirius groaned, but sat up anyway, tugging Remus with him, refusing to let him go just yet.

Remus sighed, pressing a quick kiss to Sirius’ jaw, then smirked at their friends. “Next year, I want a lock.”

James snorted, setting the cake down. “Mate, at this point, just move somewhere underground. A secret bunker. A flat under an Unplottable spell."

Marlene smirked. “Or just accept that we’re always going to barge in at the worst possible moment.”

“Worst?” Dorcas quipped, cutting into the cake. “Best, you mean.”

Lily just shook her head fondly. "Honestly, you two should expect this by now."

Remus exhaled, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “Sirius, come on. Let’s go be presentable.”

Sirius grumbled something entirely unconvincing, but let himself be dragged up anyway.

The moment they shut the bedroom door, Sirius turned to Remus, catching him by the waist, pulling him in.

“Do we really have to go back out there? I want to take care of you” Sirius murmured implying. brushing his lips over Remus’ jaw.

Remus chuckled, smoothing his hands down Sirius’ back, letting them settle at his waist. “They brought cake, love. You know how you are with cake.”

Sirius pouted dramatically, leaning in to steal another slow, lingering kiss, arms wrapping tighter around Remus.

“Just five more minutes,” he whispered against his lips.

Remus hummed, running a hand through Sirius’ hair, letting the moment stretch. "Two. Then we really do have to go.”

Sirius huffed, but kissed him one more time, just for good measure.

When they finally emerged, Remus’ hair slightly ruffled, Sirius looking entirely too smug, they found the coffee table completely covered in presents.

"Look at that," Sirius said, grinning, nudging Remus. "Proof that you’re very loved, Moons."

Remus rolled his eyes fondly, settling onto the couch as Lily handed him the first gift.

James plopped onto the floor beside him, gesturing at the monstrosity of a cake. "Before you ask, yes, the cake looks like that for a reason."

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Right. Explain.”

Marlene huffed, crossing her arms. “We all wanted different flavors.”

Peter shrugged. “No one would compromise.”

Dorcas nodded. “So we just… made it all at once.”

Sirius cackled. “You lot really Frankensteined a cake together?”

Lily sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “And yet, somehow, it actually tastes good.”

Remus, shaking his head, cut himself a slice. “You’re all ridiculous, it's my birthday and now I have to eat your favourite flavours”

James threw an arm over his shoulders, grinning. "Yeah, isn’t it the best!"

"I hate you all" shaking his head Remus said fondly, grinning back

"Aw, We love you too!" and Lily hugged him.

As the night went on, the flat filled with warmth, laughter, and the slightly concerning scent of their mystery-flavor cake.

And as Remus unwrapped another gift, looking around the room at his best friends, his family, his Sirius, he thought:

Yeah. This is a good birthday after all.

Chapter Text

Remus was working on his research at their shared workstation with parchments spread, ink pots open, his notes meticulously organized in that slightly chaotic but distinctly Remus way. Harry was sprawled across the couch, legs hanging off the side, muttering dramatically through his summer homework.

The house was quiet in that alive kind of way. Sunlight poured through the windows, pooling golden over the worn rug and catching the dust motes floating lazily in the air. A warm breeze drifted in from the kitchen window, carrying the soft scent of toast and tea.

Sirius, of course, was in the kitchen, humming off-key and adding the final touches to everyone’s snacks. He’d cut up some strawberries, arranged them in a little bowl next to tiny chocolate frogs for Harry, and made a heart-shaped toast plate with Remus’ favorite marmalade. The juice was freshly squeezed. Because of course it was.

He left Harry’s snack on the coffee table and leaned over the back of the couch, eyeing the parchment in his godson’s hand.

“Sirius… what does ‘conversational hex theory in practical defense’ even mean? It sounds fake.”

Sirius hummed... “It means you smile sweetly while preparing to hex someone’s eyebrows off.”

Harry squinted his eyes at him “...Seriously?”

Sirius grins. “No, but that would be much more effective. Mostly. But really, it means using strategic charmwork to disarm or distract during a duel. Throw your opponent off while keeping them engaged—it’s all about timing.”

Harry, blinked  “Wait. That actually makes sense.”

“Of course it does. I’m devastatingly handsome and dangerously smart.” Sirius said smiling. 

“Can I write that down?”

Sirius winked as he turned towards Remus. 

Harry grinned, scribbling something in dramatic caps. Sirius ruffled his hair before wandering toward the work table.

Remus didn’t even glance up as Sirius came behind him. His head was bent over a book, brows slightly furrowed, quill tapping absently against the desk. He was barefoot too, toes curled against the warm wooden floor, curls mussed from running his fingers through them. The light caught the side of his face just so...his freckles, the soft curve of his neck, the way his lips were parted slightly as he read.

Sirius took a moment to just look at him. His fiancé . His softest place to land. Merlin… he couldn’t wait to get married. 

Then, gently, he placed the plate with the toast hearts beside Remus’ notes, set the juice down without a sound, and leaned in to press a kiss to his forehead.

Remus hummed in response, still reading, a smile tugging at his lips...“Thanks, buddy. Can you pass me that tome?”

Sirius freezes mid-step, slowly turning like he’s been personally hexed, stabbed and slaughtered.

“Buddy?” he repeats, voice full of betrayal.

You’d think Remus had just announced he was leaving him for Snape.

“Buddy??”

“Did you—the love of my eyes, apple of my life, the moon to my tide, the poetry in my bloodstream, just call me BUDDY? Like I’m some man you passed in Diagon Alley??”

He clutches his chest. He covers his mouth. He backs up dramatically.

“I need to lay down.”

And then he does. Right there on the rug.

Harry and Remus exchange a look. Harry is vibrating with silent laughter. Remus is biting back a smile, already sliding from his chair, and kneeling by Sirius' side.

“Sirius, my sweet light, my everything, I meant nothing by it. You are not my buddy. You’re my...ummm  sweet precious baby love." He says in panic. "I was distracted. Please, will you forgive me?”

Sirius pouts standing up and walking towards the bookshelf. sniffling a little. 

Remus walks over to Sirius, who is now crouching by the bookshelf, staring into the distance like he’s reflecting on every life choice that led to this betrayal.

Remus lifts him gently, kisses his pouting lips, and carries him bridal-style to the armchair. Sirius immediately nuzzles into Remus’ neck like a koala.

And Remus says soflty  “You’re the love of my life. My heart. My home. I promise to never call you ‘buddy’ again.”

“Say it.” Sirius pouts, his voice muffled against Remus' shoulder.

Remus says it, trying very hard not to laugh, looking over at Harry, who was giggling. “My sweet precious baby love.”

Sirius finally smiled. “That’s better.”

Moments later, Harry walks over, drops a packet of Fizzing Whizzbees into Remus’ lap.

“Here. Moony. You earned them. How did you even know he was gonna react exactly like that?”

Remus chuckles.

“Easiest Fizzing Whizzbees I’ve ever scored.”

Sirius glares at both of them with wide, scandalized eyes. "This was a bet!"

Remus just grins, kisses the tip of his nose, and holds him tighter.

For the next month, Sirius only responds to “my sweet precious baby love.” And Remus? Wouldn’t have it any other way.

Chapter Text

They had only been in the cottage a few days. The walls were freshly painted in soft and warm colours, the scent of wood and lavender lingering in the corners. The boxes still lined the hallway, half-unpacked in every room. There was dust in the corners of the living room. 

The bedroom at the end of the upstairs hallway had a tiny bed, enchanted stars twinkling faintly on the ceiling, and a stuffed wolf and dog tucked at the foot.

It was a start. It was supposed to be home. Well... It was already starting to feel like home.

Harry lay between them now, tucked under a patchwork quilt. One of his small hands was curled into the fabric, the other clutched the paw of the stuffed dog. He didn’t speak, but he didn’t shy away either, not from Sirius sitting on one side of the bed, long legs hanging off, or from Remus on the other, perched quietly, a hand resting on the quilt near Harry’s side. Harry was only five. Still too quiet. Still too alert whenever a door closed too hard or someone raised their voice even slightly.

They’d been worried.

Moving into the cottage had been meant to help, to give him open space, light and quiet.
A garden to run in. Windows in his bedroom. Not just a cot in a cramped corner of their small London flat.
They’d imagined laughter echoing off these walls. Instead, right now, there was silence.

Harry hadn’t taken the move well. Not yet anyway.

He hadn’t been sleeping. And neither had Sirius or Remus. Too busy watching him, worrying, listening to the creak of the stairs, the rustle of blankets in the night.

They’d seen the way he looked at the stairwell that first morning, how his eyes had lingered a little too long. Searching. Expecting. It broke Sirius’ heart.
They had made sure the space beneath the stairs was open. No cupboard. No doors. Just shelves. Maybe one day, they’d fill them with toys Harry loved best. They hadn’t decided yet.

Harry hadn’t said more than ten words that day.
He had barely touched his dinner.
The circles under his eyes had grown darker.

Now, as he lay between them he looked as small as ever. Remus smoothed a hand through Harry’s hair. “Would you like a story, love?”

Harry blinked slowly. Didn’t speak. But his eyes flicked toward Remus and didn’t look away.

Sirius grinned. “That’s a yes. Obviously. You know Prongslet? We tell the best stories.”

Remus gave him a look, but Sirius only stretched back with all the drama of someone trying to steal focus from grief itself.

“Right. Once upon a time there was a very small wizard… tiny little thing, bit of a menace really, who lived in a house full of pillows. Magical pillows. Flying ones. Some were evil.”

Remus sighed. “And by that, he means the pillows had been spelled by a very forgetful wizard. They only attack people who don’t wake up on time.”

Harry’s brow scrunched. His tiny fingers twitched.

“Anyway,” Sirius continued, eyes shining now, “he had two friends: one, a werewolf who was wise, very hairy and extremely cuddly… the best kind, really.” Sirius winked as Remus shook his head fondly. “--and another, a dragon rider, Devilishly handsome, obviously. Tamed dragons, fought evil, and made very good pancakes.”

“And apparently very modest, too,” Remus added, smiling softly.

Sirius gasped. “You take that back. I am very humble. I’m the most humble person I know. Ask my dragons.”

Harry’s lip twitched. His eyes didn’t crinkle. But there was the tiniest, smallest flicker of a smile.

Remus felt like he might cry.

Sirius caught it too. Their eyes met over Harry’s head, and Remus saw it… the flicker of relief, of ache, of hope. Sirius bit the inside of his cheek, like he didn’t want to ruin it by speaking. He didn’t say a word.
Didn’t need to.

They were both thinking the same thing:
He smiled.

They continued the story in tandem, trading off lines, voices low and soft.
And somewhere between the dragon-taming and the spell-melting snuggles, Harry’s breathing evened out. His head tilted slightly, resting more into the pillow. Sleep, finally, took him.

Remus leaned forward, brushing a kiss to his forehead.

Sirius exhaled slowly, pressing his lips to Harry’s hair. “Sleep well, pup,” he whispered.

They crept out of the room on careful feet.

In the hallway, Sirius turned and flicked his wand toward the bedroom shelf. A soft glow lit the two-way glass orb, connected to a matching one beside their bed.

“Just in case,” Sirius said, too casually, “he needs us.” but Remus could hear the worry in his voice. 

“Come here” Remus reached for him, hand curling into Sirius’ jumper, tugging him close. “You’re a good godfather.”

Sirius smiled, resting his head on Remus’ chest. “I’m also very tired and in need of a cuddle.”

“You’re in luck,” Remus said, tilting Sirius’ head with gentle fingers, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I come with arms.”

“And lips?” Sirius asked hopefully.

“And lips.” Remus nodded, wrapping his arms around Sirius’ waist.

Sirius’ smile turned mischievous. He leaned in closer, eyes glinting, looking down.
“…and a co—”

Before he could finish, Remus silenced him with a kiss. Slow and soft as the night air outside their window.

They both smiled into it, helpless and full. 

“Do you think we could–” 

Remus smiled and nodded, pulling Sirius to him, impossibly closer. Then, fingers still tangled in jumpers and love too big for words, they disappeared into their room, the light from the glass orb casting a soft pulse against the wall.

Their bedroom door clicked softly behind them. And Sirius didn’t waste a second. He kissed Remus like it had been days.
Because it had been days. Too many.
Since the move, everything had been boxes and late nights and worrying about Harry, about the stairs, about whether the cottage felt like home. There hadn’t been space. Or quiet. Or this.

“You alright?” Remus whispered, breaking the kiss just long enough to cup Sirius’ face in his hands. His thumbs brushed over those sharp cheekbones, the ones that always softened beneath his touch. “You said you were tired.”

“I’m never tired for this,” Sirius breathed, nose nudging against Remus’ like he couldn’t bear to pull too far away. “I missed you…”

Remus cast a silencing charm with a wave of his wand, and in the hush that followed, Sirius slid his hands under Remus’ jumper like he was starved for him. The fabric bunched easily, his palms warm and rough against skin.

Remus gasped when fingers skimmed the old scar near his ribs, and Sirius leaned in, mouth finding the place and pressing soft, deliberate kisses like it was the most sacred thing he’d ever seen.

Sirius tugged at the jumper until Remus let him pull it over his head. His hands skimmed down Remus’ sides. “Come to bed,” Sirius murmured, lips ghosting over Remus’ collarbone. “I want to feel all of you.”

Remus hesitated for just a second, fingers curling against Sirius’ wrist. “Are you really okay, Pads?” he asked quietly. “With all this? The move. The house. Everything? I know things haven’t been going smoothly.”

Sirius looked up, eyes silver in the soft glow of the lamp.
“I am now,” he said honestly. “This place only feels like home when you’re in it. And Harry smiled today… that's progress? Isn't it?”

Remus nodded.

“So yeah. I’m good.” and after a pause, softer now. “I just want you close.”

Remus kissed him for that. Deep and slow and filled with everything they hadn’t said in the last few days.

Without breaking the kiss, he tugged down Sirius’ pants followed by his own, hands greedy. He all but lifted Sirius off the ground, and Sirius wrapped his legs around his waist without hesitation. By the time they made it to the bed, they were both naked, clothes dropped in careless trails across the floor.

Remus pushed Sirius gently back onto the mattress, climbing over him, mouths still tasting each other between breaths. Hands mapping familiar paths.

“How do you want me, baby?” Remus asked, voice already breathy with need.

Sirius’ thighs fell open with ease, his grin dizzy and wanting.
“In me,” was all he said.

And Remus settled between those legs like he’d never belonged anywhere else.

Remus groaned at the answer, at the way Sirius said it, breathless and sure, like there was never another option. Like Remus was meant to be here.

“Yeah?” Remus murmured, kissing down the line of Sirius’ throat, teeth grazing the skin just enough to make him shiver. “Been thinking about this, haven’t you?”

Sirius nodded, lips parted, hips already tilting up as Remus slid a hand between them. “All bloody week,” he said, voice rough and wrecked. “Watching you bend over boxes, walk around in that stupid jumper… you were driving me insane.”

Remus laughed, low and warm against his collarbone. “Takes one to know one,” he whispered, slicking his fingers and reaching down, and circling the tight little rim, watching as Sirius arched into the touch, mouth falling open.

“Fuck, Moons…”

“I’ve got you,” Remus said, voice like a promise. “Let me into this tight little hole” 

He put one slick, practiced finger inside, and then another finding that perfect spot which made Sirius make his favourite sound. That high, needy one, the one that trembled at the end like Sirius couldn’t quite hold it in.

“So good for me,” he murmured against his skin. “Always.”

“So sweet like this.”

Sirius let out a low, desperate sound, eyes fluttering. “I’d let you do anything to me,” he gasped.

Remus looked up at him, gaze sharp with affection and hunger.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he whispered, “you do. ”

He took his time opening Sirius, coaxing him apart with careful hands and praise so filthy it made Sirius tremble.
By the time he lined up his cock, Sirius was already shaking with want. Remus gave a slow little stroke to Sirius’ length, precum already leaking at the tip.

“Don’t, I wanna come only after you are in me” almost shy.

Remus smiled fondly and kissed  his sweaty forehead as he pushed in slow—inch by inch—watching every flicker in Sirius’ face, every gasp and tightening of fingers in the sheets. When he bottomed out, he stilled, breathing hard, forehead pressed to Sirius’.

They didn’t move. Just held. Just felt.

“Hi,” Sirius whispered, voice cracked and so full of love it nearly broke Remus in half.

Remus smiled, eyes wet. “Hi.”

He started to move slowly, hips rolling with precision, each thrust a deliberate drag that made Sirius’ back arch and his throat spill breathy curses into the dark.

Sirius’ cock was trapped between their bellies, leaking an ungodly amount of precum so slick and hot, smearing between them every time Remus shifted just right.

Every breath was a sound, Sirius gasping, Remus groaning softly into his neck.

“You’re so deep, Moons,” Sirius whispered, voice wrecked, hands roaming restlessly from Remus’ waist downward. “So fucking good.”

“Good…” Remus could barely speak, jaw clenched with restraint. “I never want to get out . ”

And then Sirius reached further, his fingers slipping lower, past the small of Remus’ back, until they grazed along the cleft of his arse, brushing right over his rim.

That was it. Remus let out an obscene moan, spine arched, pulse pounding as he came deep inside Sirius. His hips jerking, body trembling. Sirius followed right after with a breathless, broken cry of “Moons—” as he spilled between them, his release warm and sticky on their stomachs.

After, they collapsed into each other, skin flushed and damp, limbs tangled without care, foreheads resting together like they didn’t know how to be apart.

Sirius was the first to speak, voice soft, still catching his breath. “That was… unfairly good.”

Remus let out a low laugh, fingers dragging lazy shapes over Sirius’ hip. “It always is. With you.”

Silence stretched between them but it wasn’t empty. Remus blinked slowly. “I should get out of you…”

“Absolutely not,” Sirius mumbled, pulling him closer. “You’ll have to hex me off you first.”

Eventually, after a few more kisses and a lot of sighing, they Scourgified the bed and made their way to the shower.
They moved slowly, cleaning each other with the kind of unhurried gentleness. Afterward, they changed into soft cotton pyjamas and slipped under the covers, bodies still humming from earlier. Sirius spooning into Remus, as Remus placed soft kissed to the back of his neck, until they both fell asleep.

Sometime deep into the night, soft knocking echoed from the other side of the door.

Remus stirred first, heart already knowing.

He padded barefoot across the room, opening the door to find Harry…small, wide-eyed, hair mussed, his stuffed dog clutched in one arm.

“Nightmare?” Remus asked gently.

Harry nodded, too tired to speak.

Remus didn’t hesitate. He lifted him up, warm and weightless in his arms, and brought him back to bed.

Sirius opened the covers without a word, and Harry burrowed between them, curling into the space like he’d always belonged there.

And maybe he had.

Remus pressed a kiss to Harry’s hair. Sirius reached across and brushed Remus’ fingers with his own.

They lay there… three heartbeats, one home. Together.

Chapter Text

The cottage was quiet when Remus stepped in. Too quiet.

No scratchy old rock music echoing through the kitchen. No low hum of the radio Sirius always kept on when he was alone. Just stillness, thick and heavy, like the place had been holding its breath. Only the sound of wind and heavy rain beating down the window panes. 

Remus exhaled as he took off his coat, carefully setting his suitcase by the couch. The Iceland trip had stretched to two full weeks of research lectures and archival interviews about magical Arctic foxes and their shapeshifting tendencies. Interesting, sure. But every second away from home, away from Sirius, had carved something hollow in him.

He glanced down. Sirius’ boots were by the shoe rack. But the worn pair of fluffy grey house slippers were missing. Which meant Sirius was inside. Somewhere. Probably in their bedroom. 

Harry had been away at Hogwarts for his First Year, that meant for the past two weeks, Sirius had been completely alone at home.

They hadn’t been apart this long since Sirius’ return from Azkaban and it showed. Remus had struggled with the separation too, every part of him aching to come home and hold his best friend, his lover, his everything.

He padded upstairs, socked feet quiet against the floor, straight to their bedroom.

“My love?” he called, voice low as he opened the bedroom door. 

Sure enough, there was a Sirius-sized lump under the duvet, curled tightly near the middle of the bed. The room felt cold. 

The last two owls Remus had received were borderline indecent to open in polite company. They were rambling, explicit, and desperate. The two-way mirror calls had featured a dramatically pouty Sirius, all bed hair and sighs and I miss yous that melted into moans. Sirius whispering “You’re cruel for leaving me like this, Moony.”

This was how Sirius got when he was touch-starved: He wouldn’t eat properly. Laid around like a wilted houseplant in desperate need of sunshine. And worst of all? No music. 

Remus moved closer, slowly.

He could just make out the ends of messy black curls poking out from under the covers, a sliver of pale cheek against the pillow.

He crouched at the edge of the bed, gently lifting the blanket.

“Heyyy, baby,” Remus said softly, barely above a whisper.

The blanket peeled back to reveal a bleary-eyed, pouty Sirius, face smushed into Remus’ pillow. Just as he expected, Sirius was curled up on Remus’ side of the bed, arms wrapped tight around Remus’ pillow. The thick duvet bundled around him like a cocoon. Sirius looked… adorable.

Every cell in Remus’ body ached to hold him. Merlin the way Remus just wanted to wrap him up in his arms and never let go.

“Moons…” Sirius mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

“Yes, love, right here” Remus replied, smiling softly, his voice just as quiet, fingers finding Sirius’ face to tuck a loose strand of hair behind his lover's ear.

“You didn’t answer the two-way,” Sirius pouted, brows furrowed like it physically hurt him.

Remus chuckled, lips twitching into a lopsided grin, brushing a hand through Sirius’ curls.

“I wanted to surprise you,” he murmured, leaning closer. “I was already at the port key, nearly home.”

Sirius blinked slowly, still frowning, he hummed, then lifted the duvet slightly, one arm extended in silent invitation. “Come ‘ere, it’s cold”

Remus didn’t hesitate, not for a second. He climbed into the bed and slid right next to Sirius, his arms wrapping around him as if this was the moment he’d been aching for since the day he left. It was.

The second Remus was close enough, Sirius melted into him. Pressed his face right beneath Remus’ chest, arms winding tight around his waist like he needed to be as close as humanly possible. Like if he could, he’d crawl inside Remus’ skin, bury himself beneath Remus’ ribs and stay there.

Remus exhaled a breathless laugh, hand immediately finding Sirius’ hair, burying his fingers in it, tugging just enough for comfort. “Missed me?”

Sirius made a sound, still nuzzling into Remus’ chest, still burrowing, like even now wasn’t close enough.

“Mmhm.”

Remus shifted lower, and his shirt rode up slightly with the movement. Without missing a beat, Sirius slid his hand under it, palm warm against Remus’ skin.

“Is that why you’re in my jumper?” Remus murmured, eyebrow raised. His hands smoothing over the soft fabric. 

Sirius nodded, face still buried in his chest. “Mmhmm.”

“And wearing my boxers?” Remus smiled his hand finding the curve of Sirius’ arse. 

A very satisfied hum vibrated against Remus’ ribs.

Remus chuckled, breath soft. He dipped his face down into Sirius’ hair, pressing a soft kiss there.

“And is that…” he inhaled, mock accusing, “my shampoo?”

Sirius smiled against his chest and whispered, “It smells like you. I’ve been in full feral mode for days. You are not allowed to leave me for that long again.”

Remus laughed, warm and low, and pressed his nose into Sirius’ hair. “Noted,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to his temple. “Fully approved. I missed you like mad.”

Sirius let out a pleased little noise, arms tightening around him. “You have no idea how much I needed this.”

“I think I do.” Remus kissed the top of his head again.

“I’ve been so touch starved, it’s pathetic.” Sirius continued. 

Remus looked down at him, eyes soft, thumb stroking gently behind his ear. “You’re perfect.”

Sirius looked up and met his gaze. “And you’re wearing far too many clothes.” Grinning mischievously, he reached up and caught one of  Remus’ shirt buttons between his teeth.

Remus huffed a laugh, his pulse already picking up. One hand still running across Sirius’ back slowly.

“Oh, is that how it’s going to be?” he murmured, hand sliding into Sirius’ hair, fingers curling possessively.

Sirius hummed, smug. “You left me for two weeks, Lupin. You have penance to pay.”

Remus leaned down, their foreheads touching. “Then let me atone,” he whispered.

He kissed Sirius. Slow and deep… The kind that steals all the breath and leaves nothing but heat. Sirius whimpered into it, body arching, legs curling around Remus’ hips like instinct.

Sirius straddled him without breaking the kiss, grinding down just enough to make Remus gasp into his mouth. 

His shirt was opened slowly. Sirius’ hands working smoothly as he trailed kisses down Remus’ chest with each newly bared inch. Wet, open-mouthed things. 

Remus’ hands slipped under Sirius’ jumper, expecting his palms to graze warm, soft skin. Only to be met with an undershirt. 

“Pads, is this mine too?”

Sirius hummed in approval as he sucked a bruise over Remus’ chest. He groaned as Remus pulled off the jumper. Only to reveal Sirius in Remus’ sleeveless undershirt in Remus’ boxers, straddling his lap.

“Fuck, sweetheart… you’re so bloody gorgeous.” Remus’ voice dipped rough and breathless, “Can’t wait to have you trembling on my cock.”

Sirius made a sound half-laugh, half-whimper as he sat fully on Remus’ lap, the press of their hardness unmistakable. Remus could feel Sirius’ cock through his boxer. Yes His boxers.

Sirius was wearing his boxer, his cock fully hard and aching in Remus’ boxers, if that thought doesn't make some possessive part of him go absolute feral. 

“God, I missed your mouth, come here” Remus whispered, reaching up again, desperate to kiss him. He leaned against the headboard, trying to chase Sirius’ lips, but Sirius stayed just out of reach, all teasing and wicked.

“Please, baby?” Remus asked, breath shaky already begging.

Sirius’ smirk deepened. “Shh love, I’m gonna savour you,” he purred. “Every little inch of you, Moons. Every. Single. One.”

He leaned in, slowly, hands splaying across Remus’ chest, still half-covered by his unbuttoned shirt. He pressed a kiss to the dip of Remus’ collarbone, his lips so soft, then he dragged his mouth lower right over Remus’ heart.

His fingers slid up, toying with the edge of the shirt, brushing deliberately over Remus’ nipple through the fabric. “Starting right here.” He said, sucking a bruise over his heart.

“Is that right?” Remus growled.

His hand shot up into Sirius’ hair, fisting it tight, tugging until their mouths met hard, hungry, teeth clashing like they hadn’t kissed in years instead of weeks. Their hips rolled together, desperate and uncoordinated, grinding, gasping.

“I fucking missed you,” Remus rasped against Sirius’ lips. “Spent every night with my cock in my hand thinking about this…about you, on top of me, riding me so slow I’d lose my fucking mind.”

Sirius gasped, melting into the kiss. Remus’ arms wrapped around him like a vice, like he was trying to hold all of him at once. His body, his breath, his soul. “Not only that, I could— I could only sleep imagining holding you like this” They held each other, forehead to forehead and panting, trembling slightly.

 “Moons…” Sirius whispered, barely a breathe. 

So overwhelmed by the sheer joy of contact, of skin-on-skin again. Like breathing each other was enough. 

Remus sat up straighter against the headboard, voice low and full of want. “Turn around, love.”

Sirius obeyed without hesitation. Remus’ hands found his waist, firm and sure, tugging him back until they were pressed together, chest to back, skin to skin. Sirius melted into it immediately, tilting his head to nuzzle into Remus’ neck, mouthing at the soft skin there, already sucking a mark into the curve beneath his jaw.

Remus held him close, lips brushing his shoulder. “Missed holding you like this,” he whispered. “My perfect love…”

He slid his hands slowly up Sirius’ chest, fingers spreading wide, palms possessive. When his thumbs grazed over Sirius’ nipples through the thin fabric of his undershirt, he felt the shiver ripple down his spine. “Always so responsive for me.”

The soft nub stiffened instantly beneath the touch. Sirius gasped, small and sharp, body twitching with need as he squirmed gently against Remus’ lap.

“Fuck, do you feel good, baby?” Remus murmured, breath warm on his ear. 

“You always make me feel good” Sirius turned his head slightly, and Remus caught his mouth again, like he was claiming it.

His thumbs kept up their gentle torment, on his nipples, circling and pressing, while his mouth moved along Sirius’ jaw, then down pressing a lingering kiss just beneath his ear. He smiled against the warm skin when Sirius’ breath hitched. Encouraged, he gently bit Sirius’s earlobe, pulling softly with his teeth, savoring the soft moan that slipped from Sirius’s lips.

“Moony…” Sirius breathed, voice already shaky, anticipation thickening the air around them.

Remus chuckled gently, voice low and teasing as his thumb, softly circling Sirius’s nipple, slow and soft, through the thin under shirt. Each gentle pass of Remus’s finger sent shocks of pleasure radiating through Sirius’s body, his hips twitching involuntarily, his head falling back helplessly onto Remus’s shoulder.

“Yes, Pads?” Remus whispered huskily, his voice a teasing caress against Sirius’s ear. “Want me to stop?”

“No, don’t… Please”

“You love it, don’t you?”

Sirius let out a soft moan, nodding desperately, his chest arching into Remus’s touch, seeking more friction, craving deeper sensation. Remus obliged, increasing the pressure and pinching the little nubs just enough to make Sirius tremble beautifully in his arms.

“Please,” Sirius begged breathlessly, hips rolling in Remus’s lap, utterly lost to sensation.

Remus smiled tenderly, affection and desire intertwining as he pressed another slow kiss against Sirius’s neck. “I’ve got you, love,” he murmured reassuringly. 

One hand slid down to cup Sirius’ hardness through the boxers, already damp with precum, making a mess. 

“Oh love, is this for me.” 

Remus held him there, giving a slow, teasing stroke over the fabric while continuing to suck a mark into his neck. Sirius gave a perfect little arch when Remus pinched his nipple and Sirius reached blindly for his wand and with a flick he vanished their clothes. 

“That’s better,” he breathed, turning in his lap, facing Remus  to fully capture his mouth again. Their hands roaming, gripping and  clawing at each other. Hips grinding hungry with every touch.

Then Remus whispered, his voice low with need, “Feels so fucking good—just like this.”

He kissed down Sirius’s jaw, trailing heat until his lips found one of the flushed little nubs on Sirius’s chest. It was already puffy from earlier teasing, he flicked it with tongue once and then began to suckle. Short, sharp pulls.

Sirius writhed on his lap, their cocks pressed together, grinding. His whole body twitched with each tug of Remus’s mouth. Suckling.

“Shit, Moons—if you keep doing that… I’m gonna—fuck,” Sirius gasped, words breaking apart.

Remus' hand came up, fingers playing with the other nipple, pinching it between his thumb and middle finger while his index rubbed over the peak in slow, circling flicks.

“Fucking—fuck—bab—I”

This was Remus’ favorite part: the way Sirius got incoherent. He looked down to where their cocks were pressed together, Sirius untouched, thick and flushed, the pink tip glistening, precum sliding over to coat Remus’ own cock. It looked obscene and beautiful.

Remus didn’t stop. Couldn't stop. So completely lost in his boyfriend’s body.  He flicked his tongue against the nipple again, catching it between his teeth, before sucking at it again and that did it.

Sirius’ body went taut and Remus looked down not wanting to miss a single second of seeing Sirius unravel completely, his hips jerking, a guttural moan spilling out as the first spurt of cum escaped from the tip, and painted across both their stomachs. Sirius kept moving, grinding harder through it, breath ragged.

Remus released the now kiss-bruised, red nipple and just watched him fall apart, completely mesmerized. 

“My love,” he murmured, voice tender. “You look so fucking beautiful when you come.” 

Sirius was too far gone into the sensation to form a coherent reply. So he reached between them, grabbed their cocks together, slick and hot, pumping through the aftershocks. Remus clenched his jaw, holding himself back, just barely. But gods, he was close. 

Sirius sagged against him, flushed and breathless, his cheek resting on Remus’ shoulder. His whole body felt like it had melted into Remus’, limbs lax, skin damp and humming. “Oh Moons…” he murmured softly. And Remus whispered “I've got you, baby” softly into his hair.

“Come, lay down” Remus guided him to lie down, Sirius went easily. His hands found Remus’ hips, thumbs tracing lazy circles, grounding himself in the warmth of the moment. He didn’t have to ask what was coming next as Remus’ hand was already trailing lower, gentle and slow, as he whispered the charm they always used, slicking his fingers between kisses to Sirius’ shoulder.

“Okay?” Remus asked, his voice tender, lips brushing Sirius’ jaw, before his fingers traced a line right underneath Sirius’ balls. 

Sirius nodded, already pulling him closer. kissing every inch of Remus’ skin, his mouth met. “Just…Please. I want to feel you again. All of you.”

“Alright, baby” 

But Remus took his time opening his lover, his fingers circling the tight entrance, slicking and stretching it. The slick, so hot and wet, easing one finger inside. Then two… Slowly pushing in and out. 

 “Merlin… you are so tight” Remus gazed at Sirius’ flushed face, watching as his teeth bit into his lower lip.  

“Please, Moony—inside me.”

“Patience, baby,” Remus murmured, dipping down. His tongue traced a slow circle around Sirius’ rim, drawing out a desperate whimper.

He opened him with slow, deliberate fingers and a hungry tongue, working him loose and pliant beneath him. Sirius was already hard again, leaking against his stomach.

Remus leaned down, taking the flushed tip into his mouth and suckling gently, savoring the way Sirius arched with a soft gasp.

“Moons, I swear to god…” Sirius groaned, yanking at Remus’ hair. Remus just chuckled, climbing up and capturing his mouth in a sloppy, breathless kiss.

“Fucking hell. In. Me. Now. Lupin!” Sirius bit down on Remus’ bottom lip, voice wrecked with need.

Remus sat back, guiding himself to Sirius’ slick, eager hole and groaned low in his throat as he slid in with ease, Sirius welcoming him like he was made for this.

It wasn’t fast. It wasn’t rough. It was something else entirely, something deeper.

Remus moved like he was learning Sirius all over again, like he’d been waiting for this moment, holding it close for weeks.

Their mouths met again, all lips and breath and soft noise. Sirius kissed him like he couldn’t get enough, like he needed Remus in every corner of him. The kiss turned frantic, a lot wetter and more messy. Siriis dragging him closer with fingers curling into Remus’ back.

“Fuck, I can feel you,” Sirius whispered, dazed, eyes fluttering as he tipped his head back. “You’re so deep—Moons…”

Remus cupped his jaw and kissed him again, slow and full, like there was no one else in the world. Like this was it. Just them, tangled up in warmth and breath and years of aching love.

When Remus slicked his palm and wrapped it around Sirius’s cock, Sirius gasped and arched beneath him.

Remus held him steady, one hand gripping behind his thigh, the other stroking his sensitive length. Sirius clung to him, burying his face into Remus’ neck, voice breaking as he whispered, “yes, yes, yes,” over and over again, like a prayer.

Remus leaned in, pressing their foreheads together, breath hot and desperate. “You feel so good, love. So fucking good I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

Sirius laughed, broken and soft. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me.”

Remus picked up pace, chasing the edge, eyes locked on Sirius, completely gone. “Sirius… I…”

“Fill me up, baby,” Sirius moaned. “I want every drop. Want to feel you in me all day. Every single drop of your cum.”

“Fuck, baby…”

Thrust.

“Can’t say—”

Harder, deeper.

“Shit like that when I’m inside you,” Remus growled, voice breaking. He was breathless now, desperate, holding Sirius like he never wanted to let go.

“Don’t you want me filled with your cum all day?” Sirius panted, voice wrecked. “Walking around, going about my day with you still inside me…”

He cupped Remus’ arse and pulled him impossibly closer, grinding up to meet every thrust.

And that did it.

Remus moaned deep and broken. His hips stuttered as he spilled inside Sirius, trembling through the force of it. Sirius was still whispering filth into his ear, voice ragged, saying, “That’s it, baby. Fill me up. Breed me. Give me every drop. You know I love being yours.”

Remus pressed his mouth to every inch of skin he could reach, biting down as he came, like he couldn’t help it, like he needed to mark Sirius, claim him with lips and teeth. 

He latched onto his favorite place, Sirius left nipple still red with his earlier ministration. Still stroking Sirius length. at the first suckle Sirus’ over sensitive cock spilled between them “Moons—“

They were both too far gone to say anything, just deep breaths and possessive touches.

Remus was still lazily licking at Sirius’ nipple, slow and soothing, and neither of them pulled apart.

Sirius buried his face in Remus’ hair, holding him through the trembles, through the soft aftershocks, as their racing heartbeats settled into something quiet and sure.

Remus kept him close, his arms wrapped tight, cum sticky between their bodies as he licked a slow path up to Sirius’ neck, nuzzling in, still buried deep inside him.

When he shifted slightly, hips adjusting, Sirius clung tighter almost urgently.

“Stay. Don’t pull out, please” he whispered.

Remus looked up at him and smiled, so full of love it was almost too much.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, my love.”

And Sirius smiled like he’d just been handed all the light in the world.

Remus gently turned them, so they were facing each other, his half-hard length still nestled inside Sirius’ warmth.

He pressed a kiss to Sirius’ forehead. “I could stay like this forever.”

“Hmmm.” Sirius nuzzled closer, and Remus kissed him again.“Me too.”

A beat passed. Then, Sirius, fingers tracing lazy patterns along Remus’ sides, murmured sleepily

“So… how was the trip?”

Remus smiled, immediately shifting into the nerd Sirius had always adored.
“I missed you so much. But it was fascinating. Did you know magical Arctic foxes can shapeshift into snow drifts when threatened? Jeremy said they were highly territorial but prone to cuddling their mates for warmth during hibernation—”

“Is that so. And who’s Jeremy?” Sirius asked, wrapping his legs around him tighter, like a human manacle.

Remus huffed a laugh. “Pads… do I hear a hint of jealousy?” He gave a small thrust of his hips just to be cruel.

Sirius yelped, scandalized. “Just tell me who it is! You can’t talk about other guys while you’re literally inside me.” He actually pouted. Remus melted and kissed his temple again just because he could.
“Baby, Jeremy is an 83-year-old professor who insisted on us calling him by his first name because his last name was Phleonis.”

“Oh. So I’m just jealous of a wrinkly old penis now.”

“Pads—what?! Why are you imagining his penis?”

“I couldn’t help it. His name rhymes with penis.”

“Stop it. Stop talking about random naked old men’s members. I can feel myself going soft.”

“What?! No—don’t go soft. Wait. Are you saying you won’t be interested in me when I’m old and wrinkly?”

Remus deadpanned. “Sirius, I’d take you in any form. Old, wrinkly, bald,  magically possessed by a talking fungus, and suddenly grow tentacles , I’d still bend you over and make you see stars.”

Sirius blinked. “That's… actually hot.”

Remus smirked. “Now, if you want me to stay inside you, make me hard again or I’m pulling out.”

Sirius gasped theatrically. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Remus arched a brow. “Watch me.”

“Oh no you don’t,” Sirius whispered, immediately shoving him back into the pillows and settling into his lap with entirely too much purpose. “You’re not going anywhere.”He leaned in, nose brushing Remus’ cheek.

“Show me what you’ve got… and maybe I’ll give you your gift.” Remus hummed.

 “Gift?”

“Hint: it’s chocolate.”

“Awh, yes!”

Sirius flicked his hand toward the record player, and sure enough, Bowie’s Space Oddity crackled to life.

“Paaads,” Remus groaned, already doomed and absolutely in love.

“Commencing countdown, baby…” Sirius grinned, singing loudly as he leaned down, smiling so wide it nearly hurt.

“May God’s love be with you,” he crooned before capturing Remus’ mouth in a kiss that was absolutely, without a doubt, going to get them started again.