Sorry I'm Late - I Was Searching For You

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/47243488.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: M/M
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter
Characters: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, Lily Evans Potter, Hope
Lupin, Lyall Lupin, Euphemia Potter, Fleamont Potter
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical,
Alternate Universe - College/University, Marauders, werewolves still be
werewolving, long fic, Recreational Drug Use, Smoking, Sirius is a flirt,
Remus is a Literature nerd, Remus Lupin & Lily Evans Potter
Friendship, Gay Sirius Black, Bisexual Remus Lupin, wolfstar, Light
BDSM, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort,
Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Modern Marauders (Harry Potter),
Working through things in a healthy way eventually, Werewolf Remus
Lupin, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Meeting the Parents
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2023-05-17 Completed: 2023-07-19 Words: 84,203 Chapters:
11/11
 Sorry I'm Late - I Was Searching For You
by EuripidesTrousers (I_DDare_You)

Summary

"Lily says you got on well with that Remus bloke at the party", James says around a bite of
kebab, and Sirius can tell he's slyly asking for more information. “I’d have thought he’d be
too thinky for you, she says he’s doing post grad Lit”.

Sirius scoffs, feigning offence, “I go for smart blokes sometimes. Remember the one with the
book shop?”

“The one who owned the porn book shop?”

“Erotic literature actually”, Sirius corrects with a grin, “he turned out to be a bit weird. But it
still counts”

Sirius is a disenchanted post grad student who's burnt out and aimless. He meets a snarky
Arts major named Remus in a cafe, and he brings a spark back to his life. But Remus is
holding back, hiding something.

Turns out they both have demons to fight, if they want to be together. Except Remus' are
deadly.

Non-magic, modern AU. Rated for later chapters.

Notes

I've almost finished writing this so I'll be updating regularly. Just making a few tweaks as I
read other's beautiful writing, then cry, and return to hack at my own. It's a process.

Comments/kudos are treasured.

Disclaimer: I use AUS/UK grammar and spelling.

 Chapter 1

Sirius Black leans back against the brick wall, one foot propped up behind him, eyeing the
long line of people waiting for their coffees with a bored, impatient glare. It’s the post-lunch
rush for students and lecturers to get their coffees before their last classes and before the café
shuts, and he crosses his arms as he looks around at them all. He forgets about the time these
days; he hasn’t had to go to a class in two months now that he’s doing his Honours research
project, and he only leads second year class tutorials and labs during semester. The rest of his
time he spends holed up in the library or his laboratory, all times of the day and night,
running his samples through the machines and praying for decent results.

His eyes rove uninterestedly over the students milling around on their phones and lecturers
staring off into space. He stops when he catches sight of a man sitting at a table by the
window, reading a book in a patch of sunlight which illuminates his features like a spotlight.
His hair is light brown but it gleams golden in the light and his jumper looks worn but soft,
far too big for him and hiding his frame. He has a long face that suits his long nose and his
lips look plush and soft. His hands, which are cradling the book, are long fingered and
scarred, and Sirius’ gaze lingers on them, before moving to the man’s face, which is frowning
slightly at the book as he reads. He’s good looking, but such a polar opposite of Sirius, in his
leather jacket, black denim and scuffed black boots, that he’s intrigued. It takes a split second
for him to decide that this might ease his boredom, and he saunters over to the table.

“This seat taken?”, he asks with his most charming grin. The man starts as if he’d been
deeply lost in his book, glances up and does the usual double take that Sirius has gotten used
to everyone doing, which he's learned to take as a compliment. The man’s light brown eyes
rove over his face for a breath and then they’re back on his book as he indicates carelessly
with his hand at the chair and shakes his head.

Sirius throws himself into the chair and automatically tilts it back, rocking slightly as he
examines the man out of the corner of his eye, under the pretence of watching for the barista
to call his name. On closer inspection, he looks tired, his clothes are shabby and his face is
scarred, two starkly white lines streaking down the bridge of his nose. But he's handsome and
mild looking. Like the most wild thing he's ever done is get too drunk at a dorm party and
thrown up in a pot plant. Uncomplicated.

Sirius flips his shoulder length, black hair out of his face, which he grew out in high school
after discovering the magic of rock and metal, and he held a Rolling Stones magazine with
the band Winger on the glossy front page. He tilts his head to read the title of the book and
reads aloud, “‘Mary Barton’. Enjoying it?”

The man glances up and quirks an eyebrow. “I don’t know if I would use the word ‘enjoy’,
for a book about the struggles between Victorian classes and the cruelty of industrialization.”
He looks back at the book and there’s a hint of a smile at his mouth, “But yes, it is very
good”.
He clearly thinks Sirius has never read the book and knows nothing about it. And he’s right.
It sounds boring and just like the sort of thing that Sirius would have used as fire kindling
back when he was in highschool, making a bonfire in his best friend James’ backyard when
his parents were on vacation. He grins wider - uppity bookish types are always so easy to get
a rise out of.

“I’ll add it to my list of books to never read”, he drawls, rocking back in the chair.

The man raises his eyebrows slightly but he doesn’t look up from his book this time. “A very
long list, I’m sure”, he doesn’t take his eyes from the page as he waves his hand to indicate
Sirius’ outfit, “If I ever get the chance, I’ll give your sort of books a go. Is your favourite,
‘Punk isn’t dead, it’s just taking a long nap’?”

Sirius lets out a bark of laughter that carries through the cafe, over the low murmur of people
chatting and espresso machine hissing. There’s a little bit of bite there underneath the
oversized jumper and mild expression.

“My favourite? I wrote it.” He jokes as he lets the front legs of his chair drop back to the
floor with a thunk, and he leans forward, elbows on the table. “I thought you artsy literature
types love punk and anarchy and all that. Overthrow the bourgeoisie and all hail
communism”.

“There’s more to resistance movements than clothes”, the man says impassively, holding up
the book to Sirius, “The themes in this book are very much more punk than a leather jacket
and rebellious attitude”.

"Maybe you can give me lessons".

"I don't think you could handle it".

"Babe, you'd be surprised at what I can handle". This earns him a bemused half-smile while
the man still stares down at his book, but his eyes are fixed. Sirius grins lecherously to
hammer his point home, "Give me your number and you'll find out".

The man hums as if thinking about it before he says brightly, "No thanks, I think I've already
gleaned everything I need to know about you from this conversation".

"That I'm gorgeous".

"Obviously", Jumper Guy smirks and Sirius flips his hair in a very gorgeous way, "But I have
no interest in being someone's flavour of the day for all of forty five seconds".

"Hey! I last longer than that".

"Not what I meant but if the shoe fits ..."

"I can't tell if you're flirting with me or actually insulting me now", Sirius says around his
wide grin, because he knows this guy wouldn't be entertaining him if he really wanted him to
piss off.
"I imagine you get a lot of both, so I understand the confusion", the man responds mildly, as
if he hasn't just called Sirius stupid and a one pump chump. Gorgeous too, though, so it's not
all bad.

"Nah, you're definitely flirting".

"Incorrect", comes the dry response, "I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you are not the
main character and some people don't find you as irresistible as you find yourself".

A wave of irritation flows through Sirius and he bristles a little. He opens his mouth to argue,
because that one was rude , but then the barista calls his name (Siri , because he hates when
they repeat ‘serious?’ dumbly at him when he gives his full name). Deciding that maybe this
guy isn't interested after all, and if he is, he isn't worth jumping through hoops, he gets to his
feet, deliberately scraping the chair loudly.

“See you around, punk”, the guy says coolly, and Sirius, impulsive as always, gives him the
two finger salute as he walks away.

As he leaves the cafe, stomping a little more than necessary, he’s sure that he sees Handsome
Jumper Guy smiling into his depressing little artsy book.

He heads back to his lab and tries to leave thoughts of the prickly Lit guy behind him. It's a
decent walk back and it's starting to get cold, the retreating autumn sun barely warming his
skin as the icy wind cuts through his jeans. He likes the walk though - it's why he chooses a
cafe so far from his lab. The campus is charming, the stone and brick buildings hundreds of
years old and as it gets later into the afternoon, peace settles into the stone. Enormous oaks,
as old as the foundations, line the brick paths and the roots ripple the ground, tripping up first
years, but Sirius knows every brick in the uni. The campus is brimming with memories, and
Sirius recalls a few of his own as he walks. Four long years spent on this campus, most of
them spent finding new places to drink and fuck around, and his best friend James is in
almost all of them. He grins to himself as he thinks about the time James' former crush (now
girlfriend), Lily Evans, had co-organised an open day as head of the guild, and James had
whined at him until he agreed to help him look after the university team football tent. Well,
he agreed to be there, he didn't say he would actually recruit anyone. He spent the time
handing out fliers for the party they'd be hosting (not guild approved, of course), and Lily had
given James a withering look when he'd invited her, grinning cockily and leaning into her
space. It still makes Sirius snigger to think of her response, as he passes the football oval on
the way to his lab. "Not if this was the last party at the end of the world and I'd die tomorrow.
And not if you were the last man alive". The memory of James getting brutally rejected by his
future girlfriend cheers him up immensely, and as he walks, a few girls give him full body
appraising looks. Although he’s not interested, he feels downright cheerful by the time he’s
pulling on his lab coat and sculling his coffee outside the door of the biological sciences lab.
He’s wasted enough time getting his coffee that his machine has finished its final run and is
beeping feebly when he enters the empty room.

His face falls as he reads the printout. Boris the virology analyser has lived up to the
politician namesake Sirius has given him - rarely works and fucks everything up when it
does. His end controls, which validate his entire day’s worth of work, have failed and he
needs to run them again until they work, or he can kiss his results goodbye. He curses out
Boris, the controls, the rundown university lab, the university itself and all of the people who
refuse to give funding to the labs (and in his head, he spares a curse for hot, snarky, jumper
wearing arseholes).

It takes him another three hours to rerun his samples and get his controls to work, and by the
time he’s finished, it’s dark outside and the grounds of the uni are almost deserted. He drags
his jacket back on, stomach rumbling, and he takes out his phone to check if he’s got enough
money to buy some food on the way home. He freezes. Three missed calls and seven
messages from James Potter. Fuck . He forgot about James’ party.

All thoughts of dinner gone, he hurls himself out of the lab and he half runs to the tavern,
where James’ party is probably in full swing.

Can you come by mine first?

Actually I’ll meet you there. Pls bring smokes

Nvm Lily is here already. Don't tell her I asked you for smokes

Are you coming?

Can you please fucking answer?

Answer your phone you long haired trollop

Take the dick out of your mouth for one second and answer me

Fuck me and our lifelong friendship I guess

It’s not as fun without you. McKinnon is crying about exams.

If you’re still coming can you bring weed

Sirius taps out a hasty reply (ffs I’m coming, you nagging git ), and smiles fondly as James
immediately replies back with a photo of red haired Lily, obviously surprised into taking a
photo, frowning and giving the camera the finger. His irritation at the day is immediately
forgotten.

James has been his best mate since the first day of grade seven, when he’d sat down next to a
messy haired, skinny, bespectacled boy and thought to himself ‘what a geek’. This turned out
to be true, but James had also proved to be a loyal, hilarious, mischievous schemer, who
came up with brilliant pranks and ways of getting out of class. They’d been inseparable since.
When Sirius had run away from home in his eleventh year, escaping his cruel, snobby mother
who didn’t approve of his gay ‘condition’, he’d run straight to James’ house and was
welcomed home like a long lost son by Mr and Mrs Potter. James had always thrown himself
headfirst, with no thought for his own safety, at whoever tried bullying Sirius for being gay,
and after the first few times, no one dared mess with either of them for the rest of their school
years. He was as loyal a friend as anyone could ever ask for, and when Sirius didn’t know
what to do when school ended, it had only seemed like common sense to go where James
went. He hadn’t ever really had an idea of what he wanted to do in life, he liked to live in the
moment, but James wanted to be a lawyer, so Sirius picked a science course at random
because he’d always been effortlessly good at it, and they enrolled in the same uni. The first
few years of uni with James at his side were a hazy blur of parties, drugs and alcohol, and in
Sirius’ case, the discovery of gay bars. He finally understood why everyone flocked to
London, he’d never seen so many queer people in one place before, and it was during this
time that he’d earned the affectionate nickname ‘Slut of Science Block B', from James. In
their third years they had to calm down a bit as their course load increased, but even now, as
post grad students, James still throws parties after football matches as the university team’s
football captain. Although now, rather than the instigator of weekend-long benders, he’s
become what Sirius calls ‘Party Dad’, making sure his players don’t get too messy and
everyone has a good time.

This sudden maturing coincided with his relationship with Lily Evans. He’d pined for the red
haired med student all through first and second year, and every time he saw her, he lost what
game he had and his terrible flirting made Sirius cringe. She’d taken every opportunity she
could to point out what an unlikable git he was, until their third year, when James had
become football captain and she had to spend time with him planning events as Guild
President. She’d warmed up to him after that, particularly when James had called out one of
the other sport captains for saying something homophobic, and within a year of giving him a
shot, they were disgustingly and deeply in love.

Sirius runs up the steps to the tavern, and stops to catch his breath at the top, listening to the
pounding of the bass coming from inside. He arranges his face into his usual careless grin
and walks in, to cheers from James and some of the football players, who are gathered around
a table to the left. The party is already pumping; there are quite a few people that Sirius
recognises as members of various clubs, and a few people that he used to have classes with.
The main party is in the lower level, and it’s warm and stuffy from all the bodies, and the
familiar smell of alcohol and body heat sends a wave of relaxation down Sirius’ spine. It
feels like old times, when it was just him and James and a different event every weekend. He
grins lazily as he looks around at everyone laughing and chatting, with a few people dancing
in the centre of the crowd. He wades over to James who pulls him into a half hug and presses
a beer into his hand.

“Here I thought you’d forgotten! What’s the guy’s name?” James calls over the music, grin
cheery and glasses a little lopsided, clearly a few drinks in already.

Sirius laughs and shoves him away. He hasn’t been getting around as much as he used to, not
for a while now, as his Honour’s project takes more and more of his time, but he doesn’t tell
James that. “You ask them their names?” he replies evasively, and stumbles as James laughs
and slaps him on the back.

He mingles, congratulates the football players on their win, and discusses tactics with a few
of them. He used to play reserve but stopped when he’d been required to start getting up at
6am on Saturdays; not even time with James was worth that. But he still likes watching the
games and the players are a good lot. James pulls him away from chatting with Prewett after
a bit, something about ‘Lily’, audible over the music and shouting. He follows, swiping
another beer as he goes, and James leads him to a couch in the corner where Lily is talking to
a girl who Sirius recognises as Marlene McKinnon. McKinnon is hunched over as she wipes
her eyes on her sleeve and a light brown haired man pats her back.

A man in a jumper.

Sirius freezes as he recognizes the bloke from the cafe and the tiniest sliver of ice settles back
in his stomach where there has only been warmth after seeing James. Lily looks up as they
approach and she smiles, rubbing Marlene’s arm as she says to her friend, “Just let yourself
have a night off, it’s not going to hurt”.

Marlene sniffs and gives a watery smile as she stands, “Thanks, you’re going to make a good
doctor one day. And thank you as well, Remus”.

Sirius thinks that it’s probably not a necessary skill for a doctor to have - consoling uni girls
crying over the stress of exams, but he doesn’t say anything, because suddenly Mr Jumper
has a name: Remus. How pretentious, it suits him perfectly. Lily and Remus stand and she
puts a hand on his arm to introduce him to Sirius and James. Sirius sees recognition in the
brown eyes and swears he can see the hint of a smirk before Remus politely says, “I think we
might have met”.

Lily beams, clutching Remus’ arm as she calls over the music, “Oh, you have? Should I
apologise for whatever he said? He's an acquired taste, I've only just started to like him”. She
means it as a joke (he thinks), but Sirius bristles a little at Remus’ eyes on him, and doesn’t
reply, taking a swig of beer. James doesn’t notice the sudden tension, distracted as he always
is when Lily’s around, and he smiles vapidly at her.

“Now that you’re done taking care of everyone else, let’s go and have a good night”, he
twines their fingers together even as she scoffs, rolling her eyes.

“C’mon, let’s get a drink, you can tell me about prac today”, he insists and wraps his arm
around her waist and steers her away as she laughs, without so much as a ‘goodbye, Sirius, it
was nice knowing you’. Sirius glares at the space where his best friend was standing, and he
thinks savagely at least this is awkward for Remus as well. He’s about to make an excuse and
walk away as Remus sighs, sticking his hands in his pockets as he says smoothly, “Did we
get off on the wrong foot?”

Remus is tilting his head and his features are frustratingly calm and warm, but the almost-
apology melts away a little of Sirius’ irritation.

He fixes a smile on his face and ventures, “Don’t know what you mean”, which is his way of
saying forget about it. Remus nods, looking somehow comfortable in his baggy jumper which
is so out of place among the people dressed for a party. Looking for something to say, Sirius
grumbles, “How’d you know Lily?” He has to lean forward to be heard over the noise and he
notices that Remus has a few freckles dotted around the scars on his face.
Remus’ smile widens, as if remembering a fond memory, “She was in my philosophy class in
first semester. She told the lecturer that Freud was a pervert and we’ve been friends ever
since”. Sirius snorts - sure sounds like Lily.

Remus continues thoughtfully, “She changed degrees from literature to medicine, so we don’t
see each other as much these days, so I decided to come tonight”. He looks at the place where
Lily had disappeared into the crowd with James and Sirius feels a pang of sympathy. Ever
since James and Lily had become a thing, he felt that in a lot of ways she had become James’
first priority, when that had always been Sirius’ place. He doesn’t begrudge his friend’s
happiness but it still stings a little when he tries to hang out with James and Lily is already
there. He understands a little more of Remus' snarky attitude and relents.

“Well she’s right,” Sirius agrees, “Freud is a pervert”. From what he’s heard, Freud was
obsessed with his mother which is as perverted as a person could be in Sirius’ book. Remus
chuckles and there’s a little crinkle at the corner of his eyes that makes Sirius’ stomach flutter
a little.

“I take it you're not an arts major?”, he says conversationally.

“Nah, I’m science, doing my Honours in virology.” He looks around, trying to discourage
further questions about his studies, and Remus seems to understand.

“I’m history and literature, as you could probably tell”, he replies, but he looks genuinely
happy when he says it and Sirius almost feels jealous. It’s not that he doesn’t like his area of
study - he does, it just doesn’t fill him with passion. He sees how hard James studies now, not
just for grades but because he wants to do well, wants to become an excellent criminal or
family lawyer and defend those who can’t defend themselves. He mentioned why once,
unusually quiet and contemplative when they were alone after a few too many drinks. He’d
said that if he could protect just one kid from their abuser, if he could help convict another
Walburga or Orion Black, then it would all be worth it. Sirius had felt his heart squeeze at
those words, full of wonder at what a good man James was turning out to be, but he couldn’t
help but feel jealous of that drive and purpose. He chose an Honours project that he thought
maybe he could feel close to: trying to document the similarities in morphology between HIV
and less harmful retroviruses, but his heart isn’t in it and he knows he’s just doing it to satisfy
the terms of the trustfund his uncle has left him, so once he hits twenty five he can inherit the
fortune and go travelling.

He nods at Remus’ words, and although his mouth still tastes like jealousy, he wants to know
more, as if Remus can tell him how to be passionate about something, “Why'd you pick
that?”

Remus quirks an eyebrow and looks amused. “Why does anyone pick a degree? I thought I’d
found my life’s passion and gave no thought to whether that degree would actually get me
employed”.

Sirius laughs, he can’t help it. He raises his bottle in toast to Remus and takes a swig.

“So your life’s passion is middle class turmoil and … something about industrialization”,
Sirius presses, remembering the book that Remus had been reading in the cafe.
Remus chuckles and nods, “Something like that”, but he sits back down on the couch and it
feels like an invitation. Sirius joins him, sprawling against the couch and turning so he can
face the other man; if he’s going to hear about literature and history then he at least wants
something nice to look at.

Remus talks about his own Honour’s project, which he explains as investigating the
relationship between prevalence of fictional monsters/creatures in literature and societal
prejudice in the working class throughout history. Sirius gradually inches closer to hear him
better over the sounds of the party raging around them, but truthfully, he’s more focused on
watching Remus’ light brown eyes brighten into gold, as if he’s standing in sunlight, and the
way just one side of his mouth quirks up in a smile when he talks about his work. His hands,
which were what first caught Sirius’ eye in the cafe, gesticulate and wave when he talks
about monsters and Sirius watches the strong looking fingers flex, mesmerised. He has a
mixed Welsh accent, which is stronger now that he’s talking freely, and Sirius appreciates the
way his tongue curls around his R’s and how his voice lilts at the ends of his words. He’s
soothing to listen to and it barely feels like time is passing as Sirius asks follow up questions
he normally wouldn’t give a shit about, but he can’t stop himself, as if everything he’s been
missing in his work can be found in this man’s voice and hands. Eventually, the conversation
turns back to Sirius’ own research and he finally tears his eyes away from Remus, looking
down at his now empty bottle, picking at the label.

“I just picked something, you know? I still don’t know if it’s right and I’m months into it”, he
admits, surprised at his own openness, “I thought if I picked something that I care about in
general it would make me care about what I’m doing.”

He can feel Remus’ eyes on him, waiting patiently as if he knows the turmoil between Sirius’
brain and heart over this subject, and Sirius shifts uncomfortably as he forces himself to
continue, “I’m trying to find morphological similarities between HIV and less harmful
retroviruses. Something close to home, I guess - not that I have it,” he adds hastily, and meets
Remus’ thoughtful stare, “I just know it’s caused a lot of shit, you know, queer circles in
particular - and thought if I could help, then it’d be worth it. My whole degree might not be a
waste of time”. He wishes his bottle wasn’t empty so he’d have something to do with his
hands. God, he hates talking about his goals and dreams, or lack thereof.

Remus is silent for a moment before he says carefully, voice deep and reassuring, “It’s a very
noble pursuit. People still don’t fully understand it and a lot of our generation aren’t as
knowledgeable as they should be”. Sirius narrows his eyes as he examines Remus - maybe he
is some type of queer after all; he rarely hears anyone who isn’t queer talk about the topic so
solemnly and seriously.

Remus looks at the carpet but his eyes seem to be looking past it and Sirius has a moment to
admire his profile before he speaks softly, almost absent mindedly, “And your degree is not a
waste of time. There is a philosophy that ascribes meaning to everything you do because
you're the one to do it. You're trying to find a purpose when you already are your purpose;
your studies have helped shape you into who you are in this moment, and that in itself makes
it worthwhile."

“Oh, I, err …”, Sirius stutters feebly.

What is there to say to something like that? He feels seen in a way that he never has from
teachers, friends, and certainly not his parents - his mother with her sole goal of continuing
the family line and fortune, and his father with his cold indifference. He shifts a little closer
on the couch, knee pressing against Remus’ thigh, and light brown eyes meet his again. His
breath catches, his heart skips a beat. Remus really is attractive in a quiet sort of way. He's a
smooth, soft rock song that doesn't have the flashy hypnotising guitar solos of Sirius' most
loved anthems, but the melody of him is stuck in his head and he can't think about anything
else. They stare at each other and something flickers in Remus’ eyes, something wild and
wanting as he focuses on Sirius’ lips. But then he smiles politely and looks away, and the
moment is gone.

“I should probably get home”, Remus says, glancing at his watch, and Sirius shakes himself
out of the haze that’s descended and looks too. He sees with a start that it’s 12am - they’ve
been talking for hours. He looks around the room for the first time in ages and sees that it’s
dying down, there’s still a few people dancing and stumbling about, but most of the crowd
has left already, probably for an after party somewhere. Remus stands and he wavers for a
moment, which is strange because Sirius is sure he hasn’t had a drink, and winces as he
straightens his back.

“Alright?” Sirius asks, concerned, and gets up to help steady him, but Remus pulls back,
grimacing.

“Just a sore back. Didn’t realise we were talking for so long”.

“Me neither”.

They wander through the tavern, looking for Lily and James, and find them sitting on another
couch in a corner, giggling with their heads pressed together and Lily’s legs hooked over
James. Sirius interrupts them unabashedly, declaring, “Party Dad, it’s time for bed”.

They continue to giggle as they get to their feet, swaying a little, but Sirius has seen James
drunk and he can tell that he’s not drunk, just happy and swooning. Lily on the other hand,
tipsily cries, “Remus! My moral compass, light of my life!”

Remus laughs exasperatedly as she throws herself into his arms for a hug and kisses his
cheek, and it’s a testament to the strength of Lily and James’ relationship that James just
beams fondly at her, as if she’s the most wonderful thing he’s ever seen. Remus mutters
something in her ear, pats her on the back and hands her back to James, who dutifully wraps
his arm around her waist and guides her out of the tavern, Sirius and Remus following
behind.

“I’m taking her home”, James says tenderly, taking off his coat to wrap around her shoulders
as she looks up at the sky, smiling cheerily at the stars, “She’s had a rough day at prac, she’s
gonna sleep so good tonight”.

The raw, deep love on James’ face as he tightens the coat around her makes Sirius feel like
he’s looking at something private, and he looks away, chest tightening. He notices Remus is
looking up at the sky, so he does too, just for something to look at other than his friend being
utterly, besottedly in love. The moon is bright, casting a silvery sheen on the grounds, and it
hangs heavy in the sky, just a sliver away from being full. It’s beautiful, but Sirius shivers in
the cold air and notices that Remus is looking at the ground now, brow furrowed again and
the brightness has gone from his face. James and Lily wave goodbye as they leave and
Remus and Sirius walk down the steps of the tavern in silence. Remus is still frowning at the
ground as if in deep thought, and Sirius doesn’t know what to say, just knows that he doesn’t
want this night to end. They reach the bottom of the stairs and before he can stop himself, he
blurts out, “Do you want to come back to mine?”

He wants to smack himself in the face, because it comes out so crass, and he shifts
awkwardly. Remus looks at him, surprised, and his expression is a little too thoughtful and
considering to be a complete rejection, even as he shakes his head.

“I’ve got work in the morning”, he says simply, and there’s nothing in his voice to indicate
that it’s a firm, final ‘no’. Sirius takes a breath, a little relieved that the rejection isn't harsher.
He nods and fixes what he hopes is a roguish grin back on his face as he backs away.

“Your loss, Jumpers”.

He turns and continues down the street, folding his arms against the cold. He almost doesn’t
hear Remus’ reply.

“See you around, punk”.

He smiles into the pulled up collar of his leather jacket as he turns back to wave, pleased to
see that Remus is watching him go.
 Chapter 2
Chapter Notes

Warning for weed smoking.

But chronic pain boy Remus 100% blazes it.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Chapter 2

Over the next week, Sirius spends so much time at the cafe where he met Remus, that the
baristas know him by name and order on sight. He sets up his laptop in the corner of the
room, compiling his results into graphs and typing out a wobbly introduction to his thesis that
he has no faith in. All the while, he glances up at the door, waiting for a man in a jumper to
walk through. Plenty do, but it's never the right one. After the fifth day, Sirius is irritable and
shaky from all the caffeine and he decides to change tactics. At the end of the week he leaves
the campus and goes into the city for lunch, so he can meet up with James and subtly ask
about Remus. He doesn't examine this need to talk to the Arts post grad too closely - he likes
talking to him and he's good looking. He leaves it at that. He tries not to think about why he
hasn't told James about it, if that's all it is.

They meet at a kebab shop, across the road from the Law office where James interns as a
clerk. James looks harried and stressed, and bums a smoke off Sirius as soon as he sees him.

"Lily’ll kill you", Sirius warns with a smirk as he hands it over. She's been on the warpath
about smoking for years, but he isn't scared of her threats like James is.

"Lily doesn't have to know", James mutters around the cigarette as he lights it. Sirius scuffs
his boot against a loose cobblestone as James puffs desperately, looking a little pale after not
smoking for months, but determined. He waits for the floodgates to open, he knows James
needs to vent about a shit day at work, and he waits to let the nicotine settle his nerves.
Finally, when the cigarette is half smoked, he bursts out, "They're just so fucking brutal!"

"Who? Clients?" Sirius asks, taking the cigarette back to have a drag. James flails his arms
and exclaims, "No, I'm not even allowed to talk to clients yet. The lawyers! The fuckers,
they're absolutely brutal, they want me to write up all of their shit, tell me to fuck off if I try
to clarify anything, and if I make the tiniest mistake they scream at me and ask if my mother
drank when she was pregnant with me".

Sirius nods sympathetically, resisting the urge to laugh because James looks like he's ready to
throw a punch.
"Lawyers are like that, aren't they? Coke sniffing, ball breaking bastards", Sirius offers from
what little he's seen from movies. James takes one last drag of the cigarette and his face
becomes stony as he says resolutely, "Not me, I'm never gonna be like that. And if I ever look
like I'm going that way, I give you permission to kill me".

Sirius gives him a salute and crushes the smoke under the heel of his boot.

They order quickly and decide to walk and eat. Sirius has a feeling that James just wants to
be out of sight of his work for the rest of his break, and he steers them towards a little park he
knows is around the corner.

Sirius picks at his kebab, he's not very hungry now that he's got it, and he's trying to think of
a way to ask James about Remus without making it seem like that's why he came to have
lunch with him. Luckily, James offers the perfect opportunity.

"Lily says you got on well with that Remus bloke at the party", he says around a bite of
kebab, and Sirius can tell he's slyly asking for more information. “I’d have thought he’d be
too thinky for you, she says he’s doing post grad Lit”.

Sirius scoffs, feigning offence, “I go for smart blokes sometimes. Remember the one with the
book shop?”

“The one who owned the porn book shop?”

“Erotic literature actually”, Sirius corrects with a grin, “he turned out to be a bit weird
though. But it still counts”.

They stroll down the red bricked path, and it’s soothing, being away from the hum of the city
and underneath the grey willow trees, hiding the overcast sky overhead. The fronds wave
around them in the breeze and it feels private and secluded, even with other people dotted
around the park. James’ shoulders have relaxed a little and Sirius bites his lip, deciding it’s a
good time to say would-be casually, “Has Lily said anything else? Like if he’s dating
someone or something?”

It’s obvious and he knows it. James smirks, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose in a
smug git way that Sirius hates. “No, she didn’t say. Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

Sirius kicks at a pebble on the pathway and sighs. He throws away his half eaten kebab, and
says despondently, “I didn’t get his number. I don’t even know if he’s gay, I just want to talk
to him a bit more to figure it out”.

James throws away his empty wrapper and nods, hiding what Sirius is sure is a knowing
grin.

“I can ask her for you?”, he offers, but Sirius tuts impatiently.

“No, that’s weird. Just… maybe she’ll bring him again if you do another thing.”

James shrugs, “I don’t think he likes parties much, she’s never brought him before, and I
think she said something about him being sick a lot. But I can try. After her prac is over
though, she’s this far from a meltdown”, James holds his forefinger and thumb a hair’s width
apart in front of Sirius’ nose.

He grunts as a reply and sticks his hands in his pockets. They stroll for a little longer and then
James says he has to go back, with the air of someone heading back into a losing battle.
Sirius gives him a half hug and ruffles his already messy hair, which earns him a brotherly
punch to the stomach. He leaves James with a grin on his face and thinks that as much as he
likes Remus, if he never gets to see him again then at least he’s always got James.

The next time he sees Remus, he’s not even looking for him. He’s just settled himself against
the warm, humming metal air duct on top of the library building, to take a break from his
depressing thesis and smoke, when the door opens behind him. People rarely come up here,
as they would have to go through a fire exit which no one knows is broken, so Sirius jumps
and turns around, expecting security.

And there he is, brown eyes wide in surprise and looking as startled as Sirius feels. A smile
blooms on Sirius’ face before he can stop himself and he gives an awkward half-wave. But
then Remus is smiling back and Sirius’ stomach flip flops, and he busies himself with his
cigarette packet to distract himself. Remus walks over, and Sirius gets a proper look at him.
He looks even more tired than the last time he saw him, and there’s a hint of a bandage
peeking out from the sleeve of his brown, knitted jumper. Sirius’ eyes linger on it and Remus
sees, raising the arm and saying casually, “Burnt myself cooking. Awfully clumsy”.

Sirius thinks he’s never met a less clumsy person, who walks with such confident, quiet
purpose, but he keeps that to himself. He makes room for Remus to sit next to him and he
accepts the silent invitation, wincing a little as he sits.

“You come up here to smoke too?” Sirius says around his cigarette, shaking his lighter to get
the last of the fluid to light.

“Sometimes just to think”, Remus replies, eyes roving over the buildings of the university
glowing orange in the sunset, “But today, definitely for a smoke”.

Sirius succeeds in lighting his cigarette and offers it to Remus. He can’t help but watch as he
takes it, fingers brushing against his own, and he drags deeply, as if it’s the last time. He
definitely looks worse this close; he’s paler, there’s a permanent line where he frowns, and he
looks deeply tired, so tired that it seems even some sleep wouldn’t fix it.

“Alright?” Sirius asks gently.

Remus smiles and his face looks a little brighter when he does. “I’ve been ill. Comes and
goes, but I’m feeling better now. It’s not contagious”.

Sirius takes the cigarette back, frustration with how elusive Remus has been, fading away. He
does look like he’s been quite ill and Sirius wonders what it could be to look this sick. But
that seems to be all Remus has to say on the topic, as he changes the subject smoothly, “I
didn’t know anyone else knew how to get up here”.

Sirius grins and tells him the story of how he discovered the entrance when he’d been fooling
around with another student in the library during second year, and they’d run away from
security, right up to the roof. Remus laughs at Sirius’ rather dramatised version of events and
Sirius chases the sound, telling him about more of his escapades around the campus, usually
alongside James, as they roamed everywhere, looking for good places to smoke and invite
people for parties or to bring dates back to.

“You should make a map”, Remus says, as Sirius chuckles at the memory of James getting
stuck in a tiny basement window of the psychology building, “Every broom cupboard and
boarded off rooftop detailed perfectly, so new students know where they can go and smoke or
snog in peace”.

Sirius leans back on his hands, the metal warm under his skin, and winks at him, “A
Marauder’s Map. Could make a bit of money off that”. He blows smoke up at the sky as he
drops his head back to look at the clouds, turned orange and pink in the sun. He hears a plane
in the distance, shooting off into the unknown, and he feels envy for each and every
passenger on board.

“That’s the dream, isn’t it?” He says quietly as he gazes up, “Invent something brilliant, earn
a shitload of money and then travel forever”.

“I suppose”, Remus says noncommittally, still looking out over the buildings, “Where would
you go?”

Sirius closes his eyes, images flying past his mind’s eye like a rolodex. He sees the bustling
streets of New York, cars honking and city smog hanging low as lights flash and people
shout, then the no less busy but quieter streets of Tokyo, neon lights humming and the smell
of food on every corner. He finally lands on the rolling hills of Scotland, quiet moors and
deep forests, everything green and older than time itself.

“Everywhere, I want to go everywhere”, he says, eyes still closed but smiling, “But I want to
go to Scotland first. I don’t know why, I always have”.

He opens his eyes and Remus is staring at him, expression soft and longing before he looks
away.

“It sounds peaceful. The countryside”, he agrees quietly, “Sounds like back home”.

“Wales, you mean?” Sirius queries as he sits up.

Remus nods, looking down at his worn Docs, but not really appearing to see them. “It’s the
most beautiful place. The water is clear and the sand on the beaches is soft, not pebbles or
rocks. The sunset is breathtaking at the top of the mountains and the air feels different, almost
like it fills your lungs more, you breathe deeper. People think it’s all sheep and empty
paddocks but it’s not empty, it’s just not filled with unnecessary things. It’s peaceful”.
Sirius’ chest tightens, and he suddenly longs to see it as Remus does, this place he’s never
really thought that much about, but the way Remus talks about it makes him want to jump up
and book a flight right this minute. But he's saving to travel the world - the amount he’s
managed to save from running tutorials and labs would only get him a few plane tickets, not
nearly enough to see the world.

“Why did you leave?”, he asks, thinking that Wales sounds like a much better place for
someone sickly than smog choked London. But this appears to be a personal question, and a
shutter closes over Remus’ face. He straightens quickly, seeming to snap out of his memories,
although his voice is calm when he says, “My father moved for work when I was six and I
made a life here”.

This appears to be the end of discussion about Wales and Sirius fidgets, hoping this doesn’t
mean that Remus is about to leave. But then Remus starts digging in his pocket and brings
out a little sweets canister. Sirius' jaw drops when Remus opens it and the unmistakable smell
of weed hits him in the face.

“It helps the muscle aches when I'm sick. Do you mind? I don’t know if you ever…”, Remus
says hesitantly which makes Sirius laugh uproariously. A long buried memory flashes
through his mind, of him taking acid out of the mouth of a leather clad bear in the bathroom
of one of the seedier gay clubs (at least he was told it was acid). He definitely doesn’t mind a
bit of weed.

His laugh tells Remus as much, and he rolls his eyes at Sirius, chuckling, “I figured, but it’s
good to ask, you never know when someone is on a sobriety journey”.

How perfectly respectful , Sirius thinks to himself fondly, watching as Remus lights a joint
and inhales like his life depends on it.

“Sobriety doesn't suit me”, Sirius says, grin lingering, “I don’t do nearly as much as I used to
though”.

Remus offers it to him and he takes it with relish, telling Remus, “Ever since James got
serious about law, he’s become a bit of a wet blanket. He doesn’t mind weed sometimes, but I
think Lily would kill him for doing anything worse. Not that I’ve got the time to either
anymore”.

"No time for doing coke off a toilet seat anymore?"

"Coke's overrated. Weed though", Sirius inhales deeply, letting the smoke fill his lungs and
trying to control the cough.

Remus hums agreeably, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. “She's not wrong.
Although she does have a way of making you feel like you’re doing life all wrong. She’s just
so good at keeping things together”.

Sirius nods enthusiastically, which makes him cough a little as he struggles to get out,
“Right?! She doesn’t mean to but she makes you feel a bit shit about your life because she’s
got it all figured out”.
Remus smiles as he takes the joint back from Sirius and takes another drag. He feels frozen in
time, watching the smoke curl out of Remus' parted lips, his neck bare and exposed by the
way he leans back. The weed is hitting him a little now, and he feels agreeable and relaxed.
Time seems to stretch on forever, and he vaguely thinks he could happily watch Remus
smoke forever. But his reverie is broken by the next words.

“I dated someone like that in highschool. She had it all figured out, she planned her life ten
years in advance. Once I realised she’d already named our children I had to break it off. We’d
only dated a few months”, he laughs, like this casual little admission hasn’t shattered Sirius’
hopes and pulled a cold, dark shadow over the pleasant conversation. Sirius shifts away a
little, so his thigh no longer brushes Remus’ where he’d slowly been moving closer, and he
feels his own demeanour shift. It’s not that he’s uncomfortable with Remus being straight, he
just doesn’t make a habit of chasing straight blokes and he feels irritated at himself, with how
much he’s been flirting with him, practically throwing himself at a straight guy. It kills his
buzz a little, to force himself to bite out, “I uh didn’t know. Sorry, I wouldn’t have kept
coming onto you if I’d known”.

Remus looks dopily confused for a moment and Sirius irritably shakes away the thought of
how adorable it is, before realisation dawns over Remus’ face. “Oh, I didn’t mean… er, I’m
not straight if that’s what you mean. I’m bi”. The pause before the last word gives Sirius the
impression that this is something he doesn’t talk about often.

He turns away quickly, tapping ash off the joint. Sirius realises he’s staring and he shuts his
mouth with a snap. Hope swoops in his stomach and he throws caution to the wind in his
relief, “Oh, so I wasn’t imagining the eye fucking you've been giving me”.

It’s bold, considering Remus has already turned him down once, and when Remus glances
back at him, he does look a little exasperated, but Sirius knows body language and he has
definitely been receiving some signals. Besides, he can't do subtle right now, with his mind
chugging along so slowly, drifting dreamily to think about how Remus' lips look like they'd
be satisfying to kiss and nip at.

“And what do you need me for when you’re already in love with yourself?” Remus says, but
he sounds amused and there’s no bite to his words.

“I can think of a few uses for you”, Sirius counters with a smirk, which is met with a rolling
of eyes.

“It’s not that I don’t…”, Remus pauses and frowns at the ground, "I don't do casual sex".

“And you assume I do?” Sirius jokes, faking indignation. He’s fixed with a pointed stare and
he concedes, “Alright maybe that's how I usually do things. But it doesn't have to be”.

It’s more open than he’s used to being, and he looks down at the ground to avoid Remus’
stare. Remus doesn’t look away this time, he stares at him as if he’s grown another head and
Sirius huffs after a few moments, uncomfortable under the scrutiny.

“I mean, if you want to. We could go on a date, a proper date, and see where it goes”.
He resolves that this is his last effort; if Remus rejects him after this then he’ll give him up as
a lost cause, gain him as a new friend and maybe just pine from afar until he finds someone
to distract himself. He’s so busy thinking about the coming rejection that he almost misses
the quiet, “Alright” that Remus murmurs. He almost gets whiplash from turning so fast to
stare in disbelief. Remus is still looking at him like he’s a particularly interesting puzzle, but
there’s a small, lazy smile when he sees Sirius’ grin.

“One date”, Remus says smoothly, suddenly all business, “Next week sometime?”

Sirius nods dumbly, grinning far more openly than he normally would, and he struggles to
reign it in. Remus stands as if to go, and through the pleasant haze, Sirius realises he still
doesn’t have his number. He mutters to himself, fishing his phone out of his pocket and hands
it to Remus to put in his number. He doesn’t waste the opportunity to stare at his face, heart
fluttering at the lopsided smile there that looks suspiciously like excitement. Remus hands his
phone back and gives him one last appraising look that makes Sirius’ stomach swoop, before
waving goodbye and disappearing back through the door to the library. Sirius sits there for a
while, in hazy disbelief and, feeling rather agreeable and happy, he takes out his phone and
sends an ugly close up of his own smiling face to James. James responds with a photo of his
own, eyes rolled back into his head, perched on a stack of boring looking papers. Sirius
laughs and struggles to his feet, swaying a little but grinning all the same. He gets another
message from James and he peers down at his phone, squinting at the brightness.

Are you blazed?

Rude, didn’t ask me to join

He taps a message back as he makes his way back down to the library, typing very carefully
as he can’t seem to stop making spelling mistakes.

Saw Remus hehad some3

He hasn’t even finished packing up his things where he’d abandoned his laptop so long ago
to have a smoke, before James replies.

Post grad lit Remus???? Smokes?

Did you ask him out??

Sirius sends another grinning photo in reply, showing less of his grin and more of his nostrils
than he means to, but he’s sure James gets the point. His phone buzzes repeatedly on his way
home but he’s feeling too at peace with the world to try and type again. He gets some
Chinese, suddenly starving, and makes his way slowly back to his apartment, only a few
streets away from the campus. He grins to himself as the sun sets and turns the sky a dazzling
pink, as if he had taken the feeling out of his chest and thrown it across the sky.

He tries to play it cool, he honestly gives it his best shot. But by the next evening he's antsy
and fiddling with his phone for no reason, so he decides to risk coming across as desperate
and needy and messages him. He bites his thumb as he tries to come up with a good line and
wonders where his game has gone. Finally, he taps out a message impulsively and sends it
before he can second guess himself.

Hey it's Sirius. you feeling any better?

He flings the phone away across his couch and leaps up to find a distraction. He manages to
actually wash his dishes, which he's been putting off for days, before he comes back to
surreptitiously glance at his phone. No reply. He continues this cycle all evening and finally
goes to bed around midnight, irritated and huffy, and his apartment unusually clean.

The next morning, he's forgotten all about the message and doesn't look at his phone until
he's waiting for the kettle to boil. He freezes at the message notification.

Sorry, I'm not on my phone much. Yes, I'm feeling a lot better, thank you.

Typical, of course Remus is formal even over the phone. Sirius types his reply and hits send
immediately, without thinking, and once it's sent he spares a moment to wonder if maybe he
should play harder to get. Remus doesn't reply and he curses at himself for sounding too
eager.

The next few days pass this way. He can't help himself messaging Remus randomly about
nothing, even when he doesn't reply as quickly, but Sirius thinks (a little desperately maybe)
that his replies are getting faster, as if he's also looking at his phone more eagerly than usual.
I don't want to write the method for my thesis anymore. It's so boringgg.

I'm sure it's very interesting to the right people. I'm not one of them. Please don't send me
your science manifesto.

For the record I'd read your monster middle class blah blah blah paper

I'm so impressed that you remembered the title. Did you write down 'monster middle class' so
you wouldn't forget? Or is this just your raw brain power?

Raw brain power all the way. Just like I raw dogged all my exams. no prep, just panic

I've never heard it called that before. I feel like I'm talking to one of my students. I'm sure I'm
supposed to understand what you're saying but it's honestly another language.

Wow you're actually an old man. The jumpers make sense now

An old man that you asked out on a date. Repeatedly.

I stand by it. Btw how's Saturday? I want to show you Macy's shack. It's the best gay bar
this side of London. Nice and quiet don't worry

A quiet gay bar? Isn't that an oxymoron?

Nah no drag queens or voguing contests I swear. I'm pretty sure you'll like it. I'd bet £5 on
it

High stakes, but you can probably tell I'm a risk taker. I'm in.

What is voguing?

Oh my god for a history buff you know nothing about cultural history. I'm not even into
queens and balls and I know what it is

Sorry, did you just say you're not into balls? I'm afraid this isn't going to work out.

You are???? Didn't see that one coming.

I mean, not more than average, I thought. I did say I was bi, didn't I? I feel like I definitely
mentioned it.

When did a neutral opinion of balls become so controversial? Is this another raw dogging
thing?

OH. Right. Wrong balls, that's on me.

What?

Oh.
Your sexting is terrible. Can't just say you're into balls and then leave it at that.

Stop talking.

I'm laughing so hard. I'm getting weird looks from the lab grunts. You've actually made
my day

Thrilled to be of service. I'll see you on Saturday.

Sirius doesn't really have a good reason to keep messaging him after organising the date, but
he does anyway, and he's encouraged by the thoughtful, often lengthy, and always snarky
replies, even if he does have to wait hours for them. He impulsively sends him a photo of his
failed test results when Remus asks how his day is going, and he replies an hour later with a
long, winding message, somehow managing to make fun of him but also expressing
sympathy. He snorts at it but he has to admit, it's charming and thoughtful and he thinks he's
starting to understand why Remus doesn't do one night stands when he genuinely pours
thought and care into every correspondence.

Sirius begins messaging multiple times, not even waiting for replies, and he'd be embarrassed
but he hopes that Remus thinks it's endearing.

I've got cellular bio kids today

Remus help they think viruses have DNA

They're second years, how did they get through 1st???

Are you on campus today?

I'm marking lab notes, it's so boring can you do them instead?

Wyd honey pie

Sweetheart?

I need a more punk rock nickname for you

As usual, Remus takes a few hours to reply but when he does, he answers all of Sirius'
questions dutifully.

Hello, Sirius. As I also didn’t know viruses don’t have DNA, I don’t think I’ll be much help.
But I’ll do it for a £10.
I was on campus for a few hours, I had a History tutorial. My students are coming along
really well, it gives me some hope for the future of the world. They’ve already grasped the
concept of industrialization being sold as less labour intensive to the working class, when in
fact, it increased the hours of the working day. As you said very wisely: overthrow the
bourgeoisie and all hail communism

You probably didn’t read that last message, did you?

I’ll only accept honey pie if you say it with a Texan accent.

Sirius gets the messages when he's at the tavern with James, who is trying to drown himself
in cheap lager and venting again.

"Bloody depositions, the margin has to be just right and the font and oh, you can't put the title
there, what are you brain dead-", he mutters into his pint, moaning about one particular
lawyer who nitpicks at all of his work. Sirius nods sympathetically but his phone buzzes and
James' woes are forgotten. He dives for his phone without thinking and smiles widely at the
long message. James stares at him in disbelief and amusement, leaning forward to say over
the sounds of the crowded tavern, "Who's got you smiling like a stunned git? Is it Remus?"

Sirius drops his smile immediately but feels his face flush and James crows triumphantly.

"It is! That's so adorable, I wish I could frame this, my boy's first love", James places a hand
over his heart and wipes away a feigned tear.

Sirius snarls at him to shut up but he knows he's flushing an even deeper pink now and he
resolutely shoves his phone into his pocket without replying.

James looks like he's going to keep going so Sirius gets up to get another round, leaving him
behind to grin at himself. He sees James take his own phone out as he leaves and he rolls his
eyes, knowing he's going to gush to Lily.

Xxxxx

Remus slips his phone back into his pocket, having hit send, and strains the tea bags sitting in
the two chipped mugs on his bench. He takes the two cups of tea into his living room and
places one at Lily’s elbow where she’s sitting on a worn cushion in the middle of the floor,
hunched over the coffee table and typing madly on her laptop. He’s not sure she even sees it
but he doesn’t interrupt her now that she’s stopped ranting about prac and gotten into a
writing stride, typing up an essay on… something about tumour grades? He backs away
quietly and settles into the comfortable sofa with his own cup of tea and a book. The sound of
Lily’s frantic typing is a familiar background to read to, and he smiles fondly at her back as
she furiously backspaces. She has been coming over to his place to study more frequently
these days, as her new housemate plays loud music and she likes the peace and quiet of his
apartment. It is quite peaceful, he thinks proudly, looking around at the deep leafy greens of
his ferns and monsteras, which he’s rescued from the bargain bins of stores all over town.
The couches he’s collected from second hand stores are plush and soft, and the bookcases
around the room are filled with his favourite books, beautiful aged hard covers and worn,
creased, well loved novels. The room is full but everything has a place, and it’s been his
home since starting uni, tenderly raising the sensitive plants over the years and the oldest
ones now tower over his tall frame, providing a leafy sanctuary.

Lily’s phone buzzes through the quiet and she briefly glances at it. Remus expects her to
ignore it as she usually does when she studies, but she double takes, snatching it up and
abandoning her essay. He sips his tea and watches curiously as she reads the message and her
face breaks into a wide grin. She spins on the cushion to grin at him, almost knocking her cup
over as she does. Remus stares back at her blankly.

“You didn’t tell me you’re talking to Sirius!” she reprimands gleefully and he stiffens, but
forces a tight smile onto his face.

“Must have slipped my mind. Did he mention it?” he replies smoothly. He didn’t deliberately
keep it from her as they always end up talking about their studies more than anything when
they catch up, but he feels oddly embarrassed to be discussing it now.

She holds up her phone and says, “James told me. They're having drinks and he says he
smiled ear to ear when he got your message and blushed like crazy”.

Remus’ heart skips a beat and he takes a sip of tea to cover his smile which he can’t force
down.

Sirius had entered his life like a chaotic hurricane, changing direction every so often to
disrupt Remus’ routine in new ways, and he still isn’t sure what to make of him. He’d seen
him around campus often, striding by in his leather jacket and shoulder length, wavy hair
blowing behind him or pulled up into a messy but somehow artful bun. He had always
thought that he was strikingly handsome, with his grey, stormy eyes and perfect bone
structure that made him look elegant, even in his messy, ripped outfits that he was so clearly
fond of. But there was an arrogance about him that left a sour taste in Remus’ mouth, so
when Sirius had noticed him in the cafe he’d been a little shorter with him than necessary.
However, after getting to know him a little better at James’ party, he realised that Sirius is
more complicated than an arrogant, pretty rebel. He couldn’t help but admire how openly
Sirius expresses himself, emotions written in his every expression and gesture, positive or
negative. He lives with an intensity that Remus finds startling but intoxicating, and he can’t
help but gravitate towards him. And it’s not like he has to chase him. Apparently once Sirius
Black takes an interest in someone, he does not back down, and Remus has found himself the
centre of Sirius’ attention, bewildered as to why. He doesn’t consider himself to be good
looking, as plain and scarred as he is, and he doesn’t understand why he’s being pursued so
relentlessly when he made it clear he doesn’t want a fling. He feels uneasy, knowing that this
can't go anywhere, that it will only hurt more when he has to push Sirius away because he
can’t let anyone get too close. He shouldn't be encouraging him, he knows it will only end in
hurt because he can't give Sirius what he wants, whatever it is - sex, a relationship, a future -
these are all things Remus can't have. He knows he's being selfish but something about Sirius
makes him oddly impulsive, as if it's contagious, and the walls he's carefully built around
himself are crumbling. He keeps telling himself that he'll put an end to it soon, make it clear
they can only be friends, but a little voice in his head keeps saying, 'one more day can't hurt'.
And one more day doesn't hurt, not now anyway, when he smiles down at his phone at every
new message, popping up one after another, usually Sirius complaining about something.

He looks at Lily, eagerly leaning forward on her cushion for his response, and he says
blandly, “Oh, well, I’m supposed to go with him to a bar on Saturday”.

She lets out an excited little screech and launches herself at the couch, and he can’t help but
laugh as she crashes into his side.

“You let me talk about prac for hours! And you never mentioned that you’ve got a date with
Sirius”, she admonishes him, but looking pleased regardless, “I didn’t think he’d be your
type, honestly”.

Remus takes a sip of his tea as he takes time to consider. It’s true, he usually goes for people
a bit more quiet and sweet, and he hasn’t even gone on a date in years, so to suddenly break
that pattern with someone like Sirius feels oddly rebellious.

“He's a bit... cocky”, he concedes, “but there’s something about him once you get underneath
all the bravado”.

Lily is smiling at him widely and he rolls his eyes, “He’s interesting and we’re going on one
date. Calm down”.

She does not calm down, instead she cackles and whips her phone back out, resting her head
on his shoulder as she types out a message to James, which he can see over her head.

Remus has it bad too, bless them.

He opens his mouth to protest but James has already started typing back and he quiets,
hoping James hasn’t relayed that message to Sirius.

He’s yelling at me now, says I better not mess this up for him. I might actually cry, the slut of
science block B is smitten.

Lily squeals and begins typing back but Remus pushes her phone down and wraps his arms
around her to stop her from replying. He’s certain now, that his embarrassment is all over his
face and he wants to sink into the couch and disappear, but he manages to say over her faux
struggling, “Stop, both of you. It’s literally one date, I’m sure he goes on a million dates, it’s
not a big deal”.
But this isn’t strictly true, judging from James’ last message. Sirius doesn’t seem to go on
‘dates’, Remus already knows that he’s more of a hook up kind of guy and he admits, he was
quite surprised when Sirius had said on the rooftop of the library, that he doesn’t have to be a
casual sex kind of guy. The 'for you' went unsaid but it churns in Remus’ mind, further
worrying him. Lily stops struggling and lets out a dramatic sigh, so Remus lets her go.

“Fine, I won’t talk about it anymore. But you have to tell me how it goes. In person. I need
something to get me through prac this week.”

He smiles vaguely and agrees, and she slips off the couch, tapping frantically on her phone as
she makes her way back to her cushion. Remus sips his now cold tea, looking down at his
book but unable to stomach the thought of reading, an activity which has always brought him
joy and distraction during difficult times. But this isn’t a difficult time for once, and he
actually wants to stay in his present reality, smiling to himself secretly at the thought of Sirius
getting flustered over his messages. Lily’s typing starts up again and he finds himself
daydreaming, against his better judgement, looking forward to Saturday when he’ll get to see
Sirius again.

—-----

Sirius half-runs along the busy street, dodging shouting party goers and groups of scowling
chavs, and he checks the time on his phone again, grimacing. He’s already ten minutes late
for his date with Remus and he’s sweating . He’d woken up from a nap he hadn’t meant to
take, hunched over lab notes that he’d been marking, groggy and confused in the darkness of
his apartment. When he realised the time, he’d practically torn through his apartment,
frantically pulling on his best clothes and racing out the door. The bar isn’t far from his place
but it’s Saturday night, the streets are packed in the bar and club district, and he races across
the streets, weaving between cars recklessly even as they beep at him. He sees the bar, the
familiar sign out the front of smirking lips painted black, and breathes a sigh of relief. He
races towards the door, past people milling around outside and almost misses Remus. He
does a double take and halts. Remus is leaning against the window outside the bar, cigarette
in hand and Sirius almost doesn’t recognise him not clad in a voluminous jumper. He’s
wearing a dark maroon long sleeve shirt, but it’s thin and form fitting, and the sleeves are
pushed up to show pale but strong looking forearms that Sirius stares at. He’s wearing jeans
and his worn Docs, but he carries himself differently tonight, one hand casually in his pocket
as his other flicks ash from the cigarette. He looks mouth wateringly fuckable. Sirius takes a
breath and approaches him, smiling winningly as Remus catches his eye.
“Alright, hot stuff?” he says breathlessly and hopes his face isn’t red from running. Remus
quirks a smile at him and nods, indicating at the door for them to go in.

Sirius leads the way, wiping his sweaty hands on his black jeans nervously, hoping Remus
doesn’t see. It’s dark in the foyer, lined by dark red curtains, and he breathes a sigh of relief at
the familiar music pounding through the walls. He smiles at the blue haired girl who cards
them and she winks at Sirius, having seen him many times before. They enter the main bar
area and Sirius looks around, seeing a few familiar faces. Macy’s is geared towards the older
queer crowd, there’s only one dance floor and two bars, and the music heavily features 80s
rock which is a favourite of his. There are a few butch lesbians playing pool over to the right,
and there’s small groups of people crowded at tables throughout the bar, but it’s still early and
it’s relatively quiet. Sirius turns and sees Remus taking it all in, looking pleasantly surprised,
and he feels a note of pride for his favourite bar. He leans in so he doesn’t have to shout over
the music and Remus smells like smoke, earthy and a hint of a spiced cologne that he resists
the urge to inhale deeply.

“Beer?” he says, his hair brushing Remus’ shoulder. Remus nods, eyes bright, and follows
him to the dimly lit bar. They order, Sirius choosing his usual ale on tap, and Remus chooses
a brown mild. The bartender smiles warmly at Sirius, recognising him, and he gives Remus
an appraising look, before glancing back at Sirius with an approving grin. They head over to
a quieter corner, away from the speakers and the groups of people laughing and shouting.
They slide into a U shaped booth and Sirius deliberately scoots close to Remus, elbows
bumping as they drink their beers. Sirius leans into Remus’ arm under the guise of speaking
over the music, but it’s really not necessary as it’s not loud over here.

“So what’d you think of Macy’s?” he asks, eyes lingering on Remus’ forearm flexing as he
takes another swig. Remus smiles wryly, looking around at the hundreds of posters stuck to
the walls, tours long gone but immortalised in the decor. “Not what I expected”, he admits
warmly, “It’s nice”.

Sirius grins charmingly and swipes Remus’ beer for a taste, wrinkling his nose at the unusual
buttery, caramel undertones. It tastes much stronger than his own and Remus laughs at the
face he makes, teeth flashing in the low light.

They talk about their week, although there’s almost no point as they’ve already talked about
it over messages, but Sirius loves the way Remus’ voice goes deep and gravelly when he
talks over the music. They end up on the subject of Lily and James and they share
sympathetic grins at the mention of their meddling friends.

“He’s just getting ahead of himself”, Sirius says of James, trying to downplay whatever
Remus might have heard from Lily, “He’s been moaning at me to find someone for ages,
thinks I need what he’s got with Lily”. Remus raises an eyebrow at him and leans back to
examine his face, and Sirius feels himself flush. He tries to explain himself, getting more
tangled as he does, “Not that I don’t want that, I don’t know. I guess I just never saw myself
playing house with any of the blokes I messed around with. I’ve just never looked for it-”.

“Sirius”, Remus cuts across firmly, and Sirius freezes mid ramble, "are you telling me that
you don't want two point five children, a white picket fence and a mortgage?"
Sirius tenses at the deadpan look on Remus' face but sags in relief when his mouth twitches
in a barely contained smirk. He elbows him lightly, chuckling, "Jesus, you've got a mean
poker face".

Remus smiles, absently tracing the condensation on his beer, and Sirius presses, "That's not
what you want, is it?"

Remus regards him thoughtfully for a moment before shaking his head.

"What do you want then?"

Remus is silent for so long that he begins to think he's not going to answer. Then he says in a
calm but final way, "I'm content with what I have".

"Bullshit", Sirius snorts.

Remus raises his eyebrows and asks mildly, as if Sirius had said he thought it might rain,
"You think so?"

He's seen the way that Remus looks at him. A content man doesn't stare at his arse like that,
or focus on his lips with such focus when he's speaking. But he doesn't say it.

The problem is that he does his best talking when he’s not actually talking, and he eyes the
dimly lit dance floor where a few people are flailing and a few others are somehow slow
grinding to London Calling by the Clash.

“Let’s dance”, he says suddenly, feeling bold and abandoning the conversation. Remus
follows his eyes to the dance floor and looks doubtful but Sirius has already removed his
jacket, and is draining his beer as he slides out of the booth. Remus follows reluctantly,
gulping down his own beer a little slower, before joining Sirius underneath the dull red lights.
Sirius grins reassuringly and grabs Remus’ hands to pull him further into the dance floor,
where they’re more shielded from view by the other dancers. Remus’ hands are hot in his and
he allows himself to be pulled along. The song changes and familiar guitar chords play over
the speakers right behind Sirius, the gritty voice of Sting crooning for Roxanne, and he grins,
grateful that it’s an easy song to dance to. He sways a little and Remus sways with him, eyes
roving over his chest and arms interestedly. His shirt is deliberately shorter than usual so it
rides up when he raises his arms, showing glimpses of his hips and stomach, and the sleeves
are short, showing off the few tattoos on his biceps and forearms. Remus stares openly before
realising that Sirius is looking at him staring, and laughs at himself, looking away.
Encouraged, Sirius steps closer, doing his best impression of Sting as he croons an
exaggerated “Roooxaaaaaanne” into Remus’ ear. Remus laughs again and doesn’t pull back,
instead his hands find Sirius’ hips as they lean against each other. A thrill trails up Sirius’
spine and he breathes against Remus’ ear, earthy, smokey scent filling his nose and warm,
firm body pressed against him. He sways a little and pulls back to sing the familiar lyrics,
tilting his head back and raising his hands to push his hair back so it falls around his
shoulders and face in a way that he knows is enticing. He drapes one arm lazily over Remus'
shoulder and feels the tension leave his muscles now that he's in familiar territory; dancing
against a warm body and displaying all his best angles to a rapt audience. He’s only dancing
for a few minutes before he opens his eyes and sees Remus staring at him, eyes darker than
he’s ever seen them and mouth parted slightly. The look on his face is unmistakably hungry
and Sirius’ mouth goes dry. Remus pulls him forward by the hips and kisses him so abruptly
that Sirius lets out a little hum of surprise. It goes unheard over the booming music, and he
relaxes into the kiss, wrapping both arms comfortably around Remus’ shoulders, who he
belatedly realises is just slightly shorter than him. Any further thoughts stutter in his brain
and his mind goes peacefully blank as Remus’ hand slides up his back and his other tightens
on his hip, holding him firmly and kissing him deeply as if he’s been thinking about it all
night. His tongue tastes like beer and desire, and Sirius allows himself to be devoured, swept
away in the strumming of the bass and the feeling of Remus’ hands hot over his clothes. He's
a good kisser, gentle in a way that Sirius isn't used to, but there's something demanding in the
way his tongue chases Sirius' own that gets his blood pumping. He almost feels drunk, even
though he hasn’t gotten drunk off one beer since he was fourteen, and he stumbles as
someone bumps into them, breaking the spell.

Remus pulls back, mouth slightly open and breathless, and Sirius leans in again, just getting
started, but Remus stops him with the hand on his hip, pushing back. Sirius frowns petulantly,
but Remus shakes his head, smile playing at his lips and eyes fixed on his mouth. “We can go
back to mine. Not to - we can do more of this”, Remus rasps out and Sirius goes a little weak
kneed at the hoarseness of his voice. He feels himself nodding and then Remus is pulling him
away from the dance floor, hand firmly around his wrist. He giddily registers the strength in
the hand before the cold air hits him outside the bar and he starts. Remus has his leather
jacket over his arm (what a gentleman, Sirius thinks dopily), and offers it to him, seeing how
Sirius shivers. He pulls it on as they head off, and Sirius mutters, “I hope your place is close.
Mine is just that way”, he jabs his thumb in the other direction but Remus doesn't reply,
silencing him by taking his wrist again and tugging him to keep up with his pace. Sirius
smirks, liking this version of Remus, confidently domineering and firm. He knew it . It’s
always the quiet ones, he thinks to himself as he tags along brainlessly, trailing slightly
behind Remus’ swift pace.

Remus’ place is quite close, only a few streets away from the uni, and Sirius looks up at the
towering apartment block, lights dotted randomly in the darkness. It’s run down and the area
is sketchy, but Sirius gives not a single shit as Remus leads him up the steps. There’s music
pounding from an apartment above them somewhere and he walks into Remus’ back in the
darkness, as he stops just inside the entrance. There are two people silhouetted in the
darkness, arguing, and Sirius catches the words, “... I’ll call the bloody pound if you don’t
shut that howling up. A dog shouldn’t be in a basement…” before Remus pulls him away, up
the staircase, as if he wants to avoid being seen by the arguing people. Sirius has no thoughts
except getting into Remus’ apartment and having his warm hands back on his skin, and he
bumps into Remus again as they reach his door. He presses his front to Remus’ back and
sneaks his hands around his waist as Remus fumbles with the key, and it earns him a huff of
exasperation, even as Remus leans back into him. Before he knows what’s happening, he’s
pulled into Remus’ apartment and he blinks in the darkness as Remus moves away to turn on
a light.

The room appears in the soft yellow glow of the lamp, and Sirius takes in the towering leafy
plants with admiration. Remus’ home looks comfortable and matches his personality
perfectly, books lining the walls and soft blankets thrown over the worn but plush looking
couch. He looks around interestedly but his attention quickly focuses on Remus again. His
skin glows in the low light and his eyes are now a shade of gold that takes Sirius’ breath
away. He reaches for him before he realises he’s moving, and Remus pushes him onto the
couch, lips already meeting again as Remus sits beside him. He turns so he can leave forward
against the firm chest and a hand cups his face. Sirius’ stomach lurches at the tenderness of it,
and he chases it, leaning into the touch and deepening the kiss. Remus kisses him with a mix
of wild desire and raw tenderness that feels oddly intimate, and Sirius vaguely thinks this is
it, this is what he’s been searching for without knowing it, this tender care and affection that
he’s been chasing in the corners of bars and empty nights. Remus murmurs something against
his mouth but his brain is too empty to hear it. He’s surrounded by Remus’ smell now, and he
wants to memorise it, wants to tattoo the feeling of Remus’ touch into his skin, and drink in
how he tastes, tongue hot and talented, curling around his own enticingly. He groans without
meaning to and Remus presses closer, breaths huffing through their noses as they grasp at
each other urgently. Sirius' hand finds its way into Remus' soft hair and his other slides up a
bare forearm. His fingertips trace over raised scars, and when Remus dives particularly deep
into the kiss he frantically grips his forearm, feeling the flexing muscle under the skin. Sirius
is just wondering whether Remus has changed his mind about the no sex rule, when Remus
abruptly pulls back, hand pulling back reluctantly from where it had been sliding up Sirius’
thigh. He’s panting and his hair is dishevelled from Sirius’ hands running through it, and he
looks so utterly, beautifully wrecked that it takes all of Sirius’ self control not to launch
himself at him. He grits his teeth and lets his head fall back against the plush couch,
breathing hard and willing his semi to go down as they’ve clearly reached the limit for the
night, even though Remus looks as disappointed about it as he feels.

“Sorry, I can’t”, Remus breathes, fists clenching on his own thighs as if fighting not to reach
back over to him, “I wish I could explain, but…”, he trails off and his expression is pained.
Sirius sits up slightly, hesitating before reaching out and running a hand over Remus’ back.
He stiffens but doesn’t move away and Sirius ventures slowly, “Is it because I’m a guy? We
can just take it slow”.

Remus shakes his head and he seems to get himself more under control as he turns and smiles
regretfully, “It’s not that. I’m sorry, I want to but I can’t”. It’s not much to go on but Sirius
nods anyway, pausing before moving closer. Remus eyes him warily but he moves slowly to
show that he’s not pushing. He slips his hand into Remus’ clenched fist, the fingers relaxing
around his own after a moment. Golden eyes are fixed on his face longingly, but there’s
trepidation there too, and Sirius’ heart pangs. He leans forward steadily and brushes his lips
against Remus’ chastely, offering but not pushing. Remus leans into it after a second’s
hesitation, hand cupping his face again so gently that it makes Sirius’ chest ache. He pulls
away and there’s something in Remus’ eyes, softer than the desire and lust that darkened
them minutes ago, and Sirius thinks that Remus understands what he’s trying to say.

I’m here. I’ll wait.

Remus squeezes his hand and then he pulls away, smiling softly. “Sorry I brought you back
for all of five minutes. I thought I could do this for longer but…” he breathes out sharply,
running a hand over his face to cover his self-deprecating smile, “you’re just so… God, I
spend all my time reading the literature greats and I have no words that could do you
justice”.
It's almost a confession, hanging suspended in the silence, before it settles somewhere in
Sirius' stomach, warm and heavy. He's been described as hot and beautiful before but that
seems cheap next to the reverence in Remus' voice. He tugs at Remus' sleeve to pull him back
against the couch next to him, so their shoulders and thighs press against each other. They’re
still for a few minutes, sharing the strangely intimate silence, broken only by shouting from
the street below. Sirius bites his lip, feeling the night coming to a close, and he can’t bring
himself to leave.

“D’you have any green?” he asks, hoping for an excuse to stay.

Remus nods, looking relieved, and leaves the room. Restless, Sirius stands and examines the
books on the shelves. There’s a lot of classical stuff, Catcher in the Rye, War and Peace, Of
Mice and Men, but there are plenty of titles that Sirius doesn’t recognise. He thinks some
might be philosophers - their names look either Greek or Russian, and there’s even a section
that looks like it’s dedicated to poetry. He runs his fingers across the spines, and lingers on
one that looks more worn than the rest.

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley.

He hesitates. The room is still and quiet, the only noise the clanking of the radiator heating
the room. His outstretched hand twitches, then footsteps are coming from the other room and
he drops his hand, looking away from the book guiltily, but not sure why. Remus appears at
his side, looking up at the neatly stacked shelves with a look of fondness on his face.

“Nice collection”, Sirius says, trying not to stare.

Remus smiles warmly and Sirius swallows.

“It’s a labour of love. Collecting them”, Remus tears his eyes away from the books and
returns to rolling the joint in his hands.

Sirius pointedly doesn’t watch him lick the paper and returns to the couch, where Remus
joins him a minute later, holding the lit joint. He takes it and kicks off his heavy boots, so he
can sit sideways to face Remus and curl his legs under himself on the couch. James always
laughs at his need to sit in crumpled pretzel positions to get comfortable, and Remus chuckles
now too, sprawling back against the other arm of the chair to face Sirius.

Smoke curls between them and they slowly melt back into the plush cushions as they pass the
joint between them. Remus’ foot ends up under Sirius’ bent leg and Sirius fiddles with the
frayed cuff of his jeans.

“D’you have a favourite?” he asks casually, seeing Remus looking back at the books with a
faraway look on his face. He stirs, the light flickering back in his eyes as he comes back to
the present.

“That’s like asking what your favourite song is”, he replies, “it depends on the genre, what
day it is, how I'm feeling”.

“Nah, that's easy”, Sirius counters immediately, “Just Like Heaven by The Cure”.
Remus’ eyebrows rise almost to his hairline, “Really?”

“What?” Sirius balks, offended but he’s not sure why yet.

“I just expected something a little more classic rock or metal”, Remus explains, considering
him thoughtfully, “For sure, something by Megadeath”.

“Holy Wars is almost better than sex”, Sirius admits, “but Just Like Heaven is... I don't know,
just a fucking ace tune. Please tell me you have something I can connect my phone to”.

“I know the song”, Remus protests, even as he indicates at a dusty looking television that’s in
the corner of the room, almost as if it was placed there as an afterthought, “I grew up in
Wales, not on the moon”.

“Might as well be”, Sirius mutters as he stands, marching over to the TV to connect his
phone and educate the under privileged.

Familiar drums fill the apartment and Sirius turns the volume up, spinning back to face the
couch, holding his arms out to hold an invisible guitar and plays the chords as joy
immediately floods him at the first words.

Remus watches, bemused, and pulls his feet back as Sirius throws himself back onto the
couch, still holding the air guitar.

…How you do that trick, the one that makes me scream she said

The one that makes me laugh she said…

Sirius sings along, exaggeratedly clutching his chest, and Remus laughs. Sirius leans forward
and sings the next lines up to the ceiling so loudly that his voice cracks, and a crinkle forms
at the corners of Remus’ eyes as he laughs, and Sirius can’t keep the grin off his face.

…And dreamed of all the different ways I had

To make her glow…

Sirius reaches over and takes the joint back, the dreamy words crashing over him like waves
on the shore. This is why it’s his favourite - it hasn’t got the gritty guitar solos that he loves in
other songs, but it makes him smile and want to dance around like an idiot, he feels fond of
everyone and everything, and his future feels hopeful and bright. He inhales, coughing as his
throat feels strained from trying to sing and smoke, and sinks back into the couch with a grin.
He almost closes his eyes, wanting to float in this moment forever.
…You’re just like a dream

Just like a dream...

“It’s pretty alright, actually”, Remus’ voice says over the music and Sirius raises his head
lazily.

“A rave review”, he mutters. Remus’ smile widens.

“I’ve never listened to it properly. It’s good”.

“What do you even listen to?” Sirius rests his chin on his hand, watching the way Remus’
fingers worry at a small tear in the cushion, “Beethoven or something? Monk chants?”

“Mongolian throat singing actually”, Remus replies dryly.

“Hmm, I could get high to that”.

Remus rolls his eyes, and looks away, “I don’t have a favourite song. But my most played
artists are probably Bowie and Queen”.

“That is the correct answer”, Sirius nods, pointing at him.

Remus laughs in exasperation, but Sirius is already handing him his phone, the screen still on
his music collection.

“Top five, go”, he instructs around the joint, pointing at the phone.

Remus drums his fingers on his knee, thinking deeply before searching for a song title.

The finishing notes of ‘Just Like Heaven’ are cut off by a chorus of “I want it all”, tearing
through the air, no need for instruments to introduce this song.

“Fuck yes”, Sirius crows, slapping Remus’ knee and pointing at him approvingly.

“I’m so glad you approve”, Remus’ tone is wry but his smile lifts his lips at the corners,
almost shyly.

Sirius closes his eyes at the incredible guitar intro and says without thinking, “You just keep
getting hotter”.

… With no time for doubt

With the pain and anger, can’t see a way out…

He opens his eyes and stretches lazily, mind drifting, “Not as hot as Freddie though. Sorry,
but I’ve had a thing for him since grade ten. Loyalty, you know”.

“I’ll live”, Remus raises an eyebrow, smirking.

A few hours later, the clock reads 11:35 when Sirius opens his phone to change the song,
because somehow his playlist has ended up on Fleetwood Mac and that is not the vibe of
tonight. Their conversation about music has drifted through time, taking them back to high
school. He pointedly ignores the time, hoping Remus will too, but he’s busy looking off into
the distance as he recounts the time his mother caught him watching The Labyrinth.

“... of course she comes into the room just as Dance Magic Dance comes on, and she gets this
disgusted little wrinkle on her nose because his pants are so tight, and ‘oh dear, that hair’”, he
adopts an exaggerated high pitched Welsh accent and Sirius cackles, “I think that was the day
she started looking at my Bowie posters like they personally offended her”.

Sirius puts on a random Zeppelin song for background noise and swings his legs over
Remus’ lap.

“Bowie’s bulge strikes again, huh? Bit of an awakening for gay kids everywhere, I think”.

Remus snorts, shaking his head, “No, that wasn’t it. I got a crush on Henry Winters who I had
PE with. He helped me up when I fell face first in the mud and that was it, my tenth year was
done, I couldn’t focus on Maths to save my life and spent break times trying not to look at
him”.

Sirius grins, picturing a skinny little Remus, hiding behind his books as giant brown eyes
peered out at a boy he was terrified of feeling something for.

“That’s adorable. Did you ever do anything about it?”

Remus shakes his head, and his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I was still attracted to girls so, you know, it felt like it might pass. I hoped it would anyway”.

“Did you ever…?” Sirius cocks his head to the side and makes a gesture with his hand.
Remus glances incredulously at the action and looks away quickly.

“I’m not completely inexperienced if that’s what you mean. First year of uni I explored a bit.
Away from home and all that. But it’s just… easier not to”, he finishes lamely, scratching his
nose and not meeting Sirius’ eye.

“I’m surprised we never met”, Sirius grins, “first year was my big exploration too. I did stuff
in school too, but uni’s a whole different world. The Potters were always nice about it but I
didn’t really want to bring guys back to Jamie’s house. The dorm on the other hand…”, he
grins, but Remus is looking at him thoughtfully, not returning the grin.
“You lived with James?”

“Oh”, Sirius swallows, looking down, “yeah, I moved in with them when I was sixteen. My
parents… well, it’s your typical gay origin story. The Potters were my family long before I
moved in”.

Remus’ fingers wrap around his ankle, stroking softly. He doesn’t say anything but Sirius can
feel his eyes on him. He hates talking about his parents, hates the looks of pity and
assumptions he gets when he has to tell university admin or doctors that he’s estranged from
his parents, and why his home address isn’t his parent’s house. It doesn’t happen as much
now that he’s an adult, but he lets it slip in conversation every now and then by accident. He
searches for something to change the subject but Remus is still silent, and it’s not expectant
but it’s inviting.

He bites at the inside of his cheek and says in a rush, “They were fucked. My parents, I mean.
All they ever cared about was continuing the family name and keeping the family fortune in
the bloodline. And when they found out that I wouldn’t be continuing the bloodline, and I
was a disgraceful queer… they didn’t take it well. It’s not like I didn’t expect it, they were
always a bit fucked, not just about the gay thing, anything that didn’t fit their idea of what it
meant to be a Black”, he spits out his last name like it’s something foul, “got you punished.
My mother - so poised and proper at functions and balls. And the most foul, evil bitch behind
closed doors”.

Something inside him is shaking. It rattles through his ribcage and makes him clench his jaw.
He doesn’t know whether it’s anger or something else. He stares hard at Remus’ hand, which
still strokes the bare skin of his ankle, rubbing in slow circles.

“I’m sorry, Sirius”.

And there it is: the pity. He knows if he looks up he’ll see Remus’ face twisted in pity and he
wants to throw himself out of the room to avoid seeing it. He wasn’t supposed to talk about
this, not tonight, maybe not ever if he could help it. But he fucked it up, blabbed as usual, not
thinking, impulsive, reckless, he hasn’t changed since his mother last screamed these things
at him.

“Sirius”.

He looks up at the sharp tone. Remus is looking at him with laser focus, not a trace of mellow
in his features anymore.

“Stop it”, Remus says firmly, and Sirius’ mouth opens, confused, but Remus pushes on,
“whatever is going on in your head, whatever you’re saying to yourself. Stop. I don’t think
any differently of you. Your parents are the ones that should be ashamed, not you”.

Sirius stares numbly. His mother’s voice in the back of his mind peters off in surprise at being
spoken to like that, and he takes a breath.

“Sorry”, he mumbles.
“Please don’t”, Remus’ face looks pained for a second, and his hand twitches as if he wants
to reach forward, but he stays put, “don’t apologise for that. Never, not with me. I’m glad you
told me”.

“Don’t know why I did”, Sirius mutters truthfully, fiddling with a strand of his hair.

“I’m glad you did”, Remus repeats gently.

He’s silent for a bit but when it becomes clear that Sirius isn’t going to say anything more on
the topic, he smiles and smoothly changes the subject, “What was it like living with the
Potters? I can only imagine what a pair you two would have made under the same roof”.

Sirius grin returns, hesitantly at first, but then he recalls the time he and James had tried
smoking in James’ bedroom, but Mrs Potter had almost caught them. He shakes with laughter
as he tells Remus how they’d flung the joint out the window just as she opened the door and
then, after she’d left, sniffing the air and eyeing them both suspiciously, they’d had to climb
out of the second storey window to put out the gutter that was smoking outside. Remus
laughs into his hands as Sirius paints the image of James in his tighty whiteys on the roof,
trying to stamp out the smoking leaves in the gutter, cursing furiously, and how he was so
high that he couldn’t stop laughing at James and he’d almost fallen off the roof. His shoulders
untense and his jaw unclenches as he laughs. His mother’s voice is silent.

The next time that he looks at his phone it’s 02:52AM and he grimaces, knowing he’s
supposed to go to Sunday breakfast at the Potters’ in the morning. It’s something that Mrs
Potter insists on at least once a month, so she can catch up with him and James in person, and
sometimes Lily too if she can make it. Remus catches the look on his face and glances at his
watch, eyes widening.

“Oh… I should probably get to bed”.

“Yeah me too”, Sirius nods but he can’t seem to physically force himself to stand, his legs
still comfortably stretched over Remus’ lap. Remus looks at him expectantly, stuck
underneath Sirius’ legs, and before he can stop himself Sirius blurts, “Can I stay?”

He squirms in embarrassment and flounders to explain as Remus looks at him in confusion.

“Not to do anything. Just to stay”, he takes a breath as he meets Remus’ eyes, honesty
pouring out of him in a rush as he loses himself in the soft gold, “To sleep. This is-this has
been… I just want to stay”.

Remus stares.

“Alright”, he whispers.

Sirius stares back in surprise. He numbly pulls his legs back as Remus stands and turns the
light off, leading Sirius by the hand to his bedroom by memory and touch. Sirius wonders if
he can feel his pulse in his fingers, his blood thudding frantically through his veins.
 Remus hands him something soft and light and Sirius turns to the window to see what he’s
holding in the light of the crescent moon streaming through the fogged glass. It’s pyjamas,
and although he doesn’t usually sleep in anything, he dutifully changes into them, back
turned to Remus who he hears doing the same.

They lie silently, side by side in the bed and Sirius thinks distantly that this would be
incredibly weird with anyone else. He rarely stays the night after a hook up and he has
certainly never stayed after someone has lost the nerve. But then, he’s never opened up this
much before either. As he breathes in the smell of Remus, in his bed and on his skin, he
thinks this is remarkably not weird. Remus seems to share this sentiment, as he appears to
sink into the soft bed, silhouette relaxed in the darkness. Sirius turns to face him and his
fingers brush the bare skin of Remus’ arm. Remus doesn’t move away and his eyes shine in
the moonlight as he looks over at him, thinking deeply.

Sirius murmurs a goodnight, and it echoes back. He can’t explain what’s happening but he
feels oddly comfortable and he feels sleep creeping at the corners of his mind much sooner
than he expects. Remus’ breathing is deep and steady next to him and he drifts off with
Remus in all of his senses.

Chapter End Notes

Comments and kudos are love.

I always worry about my characterisations, feedback is treasured <3

Edit 29/05: I couldn't help myself, I added stuff to this chapter so if you see it updated
but no new chapter, no you didn't
 Chapter 3
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

The cosy darkness of sleep slowly melts away and Remus stirs comfortably. The sun is
pouring into his bedroom and he can tell it’s still early morning without opening his eyes. He
nestles back into the pillow, chasing the seductive pull of sleep, but freezes as he inhales
against the pillow. That smell… it’s familiar. He squints in the soft light and breathes deeply.
The smell is woody, with a sweet undertone, reminding him vaguely of leather, and he
realises with a jolt low in his stomach that it’s Sirius. He sits up abruptly, looking around. The
other side of the bed is empty and Remus stares at the rumpled space where Sirius had slept,
chest aching at the thought of him leaving, although he’s given him no reason to stay. His
stomach sinks and he holds his head in his hands as he recalls last night. Sirius’ hands in his
hair and lips soft and yielding as Remus pressed him into the couch. Sirius' laughter, his
smile, his averted eyes and the way he bit the inside of his cheek when he talked about his
parents. Remus pulls at his hair slightly, furious with himself for letting it get this far - Sirius
couldn’t understand, could never know why Remus can’t get closer to him. He wants to, god
does he want to; he barely held himself back from tearing Sirius’ clothes off and fucking him
right there on the couch last night. But he knows it’ll make it harder when he inevitably has
to end it, and he's never found a decent excuse to explain the scars littered all over his body,
which he can barely look at himself. It’s really a good thing that Sirius is gone - waking up to
Sirius, sleepy and warm in his bed would test his resolve cruelly and he doesn’t know
whether he’d be able to resist.

He starts as a noise comes from the kitchen - it sounds like a mug clinking. He hopes despite
himself, and gets out of bed, padding out of the bedroom. Sirius is leaning back against the
kitchen counter, black hair beautifully tousled and curling into itself, frowning as he thumbs
through a book. Remus stares. Sirius doesn’t notice, engrossed in what he's reading. He
recognises the cover and his stomach squirms. The Ink Dark Moon is the book he left on the
table, in the middle of a reread and analysis, before he left for his date with Sirius last night.
It’s a book of poetry that he came across in his studies, and it’s painfully romantic. While he
hasn’t ever felt what the authors describe in the book, he likes reading about it, the sharp
longing, the mournful yearning of a tender love parted by distance and societal expectations,
but burning all the stronger for it. It’s as if he can feel it when he reads, and be content
knowing how it would feel to love and be loved so deeply.

He clears his throat, and Sirius jumps, snapping the book shut guiltily, pushing it away across
the bench. The ghost of a grin flickers across his face and he folds his arms across his chest in
an uncharacteristic gesture of unsureness.

“I didn’t hear you get up”, Sirius says, voice still hoarse from sleep. Remus walks over to
him, taking a mug down from the cupboard and puts it down next to Sirius’ already made
coffee. He glances at the book, cast aside on the bench, but doesn’t mention it.

“Did you sleep alright?” he asks lightly.

Sirius leans back on his hands. “Like the dead. Comfortable bed you’ve got”.

Remus murmurs indistinctly in agreement, making his coffee. He knows what he has to do
but he can’t bring himself to - his heart begs for just one more moment, one more stolen
second standing in the kitchen with Sirius as if they both belong there, and Sirius belongs to
him. It's as if he's stepped into another person's life, and he doesn't want to leave this alternate
universe, where Sirius shares a bed with him, they make coffee together in the morning and
maybe later they'll argue over who's getting the groceries (they both do - spending hours in
the store, buying too many sweets and debating over deodorant brands). He drags himself
back to reality and steels himself. He opens his mouth to tell Sirius that they can’t do this and
he’s sorry, really truly sorry, but the words die in his throat when he meets grey eyes, more
beautiful than a storm raging against the coast. Instead, he says hoarsely, “I'm glad you
stayed”.

Sirius’ surprised smile splits his face and the stormy grey brightens. Remus wants to tear his
own heart out to stop the constant ache.

“Me too”, Sirius murmurs, stepping closer. Remus hates himself for allowing the brief kiss
that follows, the alternate reality dangling just out of reach. He steps back and takes a sip of
his coffee as Sirius tilts his head at him thoughtfully.

“You have no food by the way", Sirius says conversationally, "I was going to make breakfast
but all you have is mustard in the fridge and the manky end pieces of some bread".

"The heel."

"The what ?"

"That's what it's called - the end pieces are the heel".

"That's disgusting, bread isn't a foot. That can't be right".

Remus huffs, "Sorry, is my mustard heel sandwich not good enough for his majesty? I didn't
know I'd be having royalty join me for breakfast. I'll get out the good china".

"Missed opportunity to call me a queen", Sirius tells him, sounding disappointed, "Lame".

"Ah, I'm afraid I'm not at my best", Remus nods apologetically, "Not a morning person. Ask
me to insult you again after my coffee and you'll be weeping for mercy".

Sirius bats his eyelashes, "Ohh, how'd you know I'm into that?"

Remus laughs, looking down at his coffee, thinking quickly before daring to answer, half
joking, "Your humiliation and praise kinks are a little obvious".

Sirius' jaw drops and Remus isn't sure whether he's being dramatic or if he's genuinely
shocked.

"I, err-", Sirius fumbles, "I mean, who doesn't like a little name calling and being told they're
doing a good job? That's practically vanilla these days".
Remus hums, watching interestedly as a soft pink blush blooms in Sirius' cheeks. Precious ,
he thinks fondly.

Clearly caught off guard, Sirius turns and busies himself with washing his empty coffee cup.

Remus watches him out of the corner of his eye as he continues to sip his coffee, trying and
failing not to imagine how Sirius' blush would spread at being called 'good boy'. The water
turns off and Sirius is back, brushing his fingers against the back of Remus’ hand.

“I have to go. I said I’d go to breakfast at the Potters”, he says and he sounds truly sorry, “But
I can come back after”.

Remus shakes his head, “I have to do some marking today and I won’t be able to concentrate
with you around”. Sirius smirks and Remus continues hastily, "I mean , you're physically
incapable of being quiet, so you'll be a distraction".

"I'm quiet when you kiss me", Sirius counters, leaning forward in offering.

"Hardly", Remus replies distractedly, staring at Sirius' mouth, "and that's also not the point.
I'm supposed to be marking papers, not kissing you".

"A little of both?" Sirius suggests in a murmur, leaning so close that Remus can see dark
stubble and smell the same scent that's in his bed.

He grips his coffee cup tightly.

"I really have to… my students." he forces out, but when Sirius' expression falls in
disappointment, more words come tumbling out, "You can come back tonight. If you want”.

He’s making this harder for himself but a little voice in his head whispers it can’t hurt, just
this one thing. He’s never asked anything of the universe, and all he wants is to be able to
kiss Sirius again, slow and lazy against the couch, and surely he’s allowed this moment of
selfishness. Even if Sirius leaves now and Remus never sees him again, he’ll be searching for
him in every dark haired stranger’s smile and find him in every book dedicated to love and
longing. The damage is done already and one more day can’t hurt.

Sirius nods, yes, he wants to come back, and his eyes are brightened by his smile. Remus
feels his resolve crumble.

Maybe just two more days.

Sirius closes the distance and he tastes like coffee when Remus runs his tongue along his
bottom lip. He slides a hand through the messy, wavy hair and his nails scratch his scalp
slightly, earning the faintest moan. He wants to chase that sound, suspecting that if he forms a
fist around Sirius' hair and tugs slightly, there will be plenty more. He pulls back, his hand
retreating from the soft hair. Sirius looks like he wants to follow and keep going but then he
clears his throat, grins and leaves to get changed. Remus watches him go, already counting
down the hours until he'll see him again.
It's quiet in the kitchen without Sirius and he turns to place his empty cup in the sink. He sees
the book still lying on the counter where Sirius had thrown it. Remus hesitates and then pulls
it closer, flipping it open to the page Sirius had been reading, creased when he’d shut it
quickly.

To a man who said we should meet, even if it were only for a single time

Even if I now saw you

only once,

I would long for you

through worlds,

worlds.

—--

Sirius grins ear to ear as the woman he thinks of as ‘Mum’, offers him a second helping of
hash browns. Mrs Potter looks delighted by his enthusiasm and piles three more on his plate,
and turns to admonish James for not eating more.

Sirius grins around a mouthful of fried potato at James, who’s sitting next to him at the dining
table, and he makes a disgusted face back.

“It’s a shame Lily couldn’t come this time, Jamie”, she says as she sits back down, across
from them and next to Mr Potter, who’s leaning back in his chair, sipping tea.

The sun streams through the high, arching windows, and warms Sirius’ left side, and he has
to fight not to close his eyes at the feeling. The dark wooden surfaces of the large dining
room are bathed in light and Mrs Potter looks especially pretty this morning, dark hair pulled
into a neat bun and her smile transforms her face into a perfect replica of James, as she beams
radiantly all morning at seeing her son and adopted son. He’s filled with fondness for both
parents, who dote on him and James equally, and he beams at them. The food tastes amazing;
Mrs Potter’s cooking is always good, but today it tastes exquisite, and he’s already on his
second helping of everything.

“She’s got enough going on at the moment, Mum”, James whines, eyeing Sirius’ cheerful
expression suspiciously.
Mr Potter hums and comments on the state of the education system, something about young
student nurses and doctors being taken advantage of, and Mrs Potter launches into a tirade
about the NHS.

James takes the opportunity to lean over and hiss to Sirius, “Are you high?”

Sirius snorts. Luckily Mr and Mrs Potter are in deep discussion now, so they don’t hear.

“I’m not stupid, she can smell it through a bedroom door, I’m not gonna smoke right before
breakfast”.

“What’s up with you then?” James squints at him.

“Nothing, can’t a bloke enjoy his breakfast?” Sirius picks up a piece of bacon and tears into
it, moaning at the perfect crunch.

“Hmmph”, huffs James.

Sirius smiles down at his plate and thinks vaguely that he’ll definitely bring some food back
to Remus tonight. God, everything tastes amazing. He wonders what Remus likes - he hasn't
thought to ask before and it seems ridiculous that Remus knows his insecurities and doubts,
but they don't know each other's comfort food.

“Ahh, last night was your date with Reeemus”, James is back in his ear, like an annoying
gnat, grinning widely now.

“Shove off, short stack”, Sirius mutters.

“Wow, straight from dick appointment to breakfast with the parents. I hope you showered”.

“We didn’t do anything”, Sirius hisses back, keeping an eye on the couple across the table,
“keep out of it”.

“You didn’t?” James raises his eyebrows and leans back. “So what’s with the-”, he waves a
hand at Sirius’ face as if this explains what he means. Sirius thinks he does know what he
means.

He turns back to his plate, feeling his cheeks warming. He pokes at his golden scrambled
eggs and pointedly ignores James’ grin widening beside him as he figures out what's making
Sirius so blissful. James leans in again, enormous grin inches from Sirius’ ear and Sirius feels
like Ripley from the alien movie, when the alien is baring its teeth at her and slobbering
down her neck.

“You like him”, the alien hisses gleefully.

“Fucking genius you are. Of course I do, we went on a date”.

“Nah, you’re glowing like the sun. I’ve never seen you walk away from any bloke looking
like that. Never known you not fuck a guy and then go all moony eyed over him”.
“Shut your fucking hole”, Sirius grits out through his teeth, feeling the glow in his cheeks.

James leans away, shit eating grin still in place. He clears his throat and Mr and Mrs Potter
glance over, pausing in their conversation about tax.

“So, Sirius. How was your date last night?” James asks loudly, taking a sip of coffee to hide
his grin.

Sirius aims a kick at him from under the table but misses and kicks the chair leg with his
socked foot. He whimpers in pain and James chokes, coughing to hide his laughter.

“Sirius!”, Mrs Potter exclaims, looking delighted as she leans forward and grabs Mr Potter’s
hand, “Why didn’t you tell us? Who is he? How did you meet?”

Sirius curls his bruised toes and glares at James before grumbling at his plate, “Just someone
I met at a party”.

Mr Potter is glancing between Sirius and James, bemused smirk on his face as he sees the
tension between them. But Mrs Potter is ecstatic and brushes away Sirius' less than
enthusiastic answer with a wave of her hand, “Well, it’s about time you went on a proper
date. You’ve never brought a boy home before, you know we’d love to see you happy with
someone, love. He’s welcome to come to Sunday breakfast, just like Lily”.

James is smiling cheerily and Sirius resists the urge to try and kick him again. He laughs
awkwardly and avoids her eyes.

“It’s just one date, Ma”, he mumbles.

“He’s Lily’s friend”, James offers helpfully, "Does post grad lit, super brainy".

“Oh that’s a good sign”, she beams at her son, “that girl has her head screwed on. She does
have excellent taste”.

“Sure does!” James beams back, grin matching his mother's perfectly.

The conversation turns to how great Lily is, and Sirius does his best to zone them out and
plot his revenge, vowing that James will never rest easy again.

He scowls for the rest of breakfast and the subject of Remus isn’t brought up again. As
embarrassed as he is, he can’t help the warm feeling in his stomach as he imagines Remus
sitting by his side at the table, regaling Mrs Potter with details of his studies and maybe, just
maybe, with his hand on Sirius’ knee under the table.

He’s never been so grateful that James can’t read minds.

—----
The next few weeks pass in a pleasant blur for Sirius. He stays over Remus' place more
nights than not and there are small piles of his things on the bedside table and scattered
throughout the apartment, little pieces of himself deliberately left behind. He spends his
evenings marking lab reports and sullenly chipping away at his thesis at Remus' coffee table,
mollified only by the Stones and Ramones blaring through the apartment. Despite Remus'
previous protests at distracting noise, he doesn't seem to mind it.

Lily does.

She turns up a few times a week, looking harried and tired, laptop under arm and scowl on
her face. The first time, she looked surprised to see him sitting at the coffee table, but there
was a hint of a smile on her face when she pointed at the cushion Sirius was sitting on and
said, “That’s my spot”.

Remus, always the diplomat, finds another cushion and chats with her while Sirius glares at
her out of the corner of his eye. She pointedly puts on headphones at his loud music, but
otherwise they coexist in peace, sitting on the floor across from each other at the coffee table
with their laptops out. James eventually begins showing up, as he always does whenever Lily
chooses a place to study. The little apartment loses some of its peace, but it gains warmth,
and it gives Sirius an odd satisfaction to see James sitting at the dining table, chatting with
Remus about whatever political thing they’re both interested in. He listens for a bit, in case
James decides to try and embarrass him again by telling Remus that his parents want to meet
him, or stories from high school - there are many stories James could tell that Sirius doesn't
want Remus to hear. But James seems to draw a line, and they don't discuss Sirius much, so
he often zones out during James’ rants about politics, but he’s glad that he’s found a kindred
spirit in Remus, who is quite happy to argue the finer points of indexation and tariffs with
him. At least, those are the two words that Sirius hears before he boredly turns his attention
back to his music.

When Lily and James aren’t there, it’s homely and peaceful, and Sirius has to mentally
correct himself when he thinks of it as home. But isn’t this what home should be? The place
where he feels like he’s neither too much or not enough, feeling safe and comfortable in a
way that he never felt in his biological parent’s house. Now, when he longs for home at the
end of a long day, he thinks of dark green, waxy leaves, old books and knitted jumpers. Home
is Remus marking essays at the rickety dining table, tapping his pen as he reads with a frown,
every so often their eyes meeting and sending a thrill through Sirius' veins at the smile that
flits across the handsome features.

He doesn't try to put into words what he feels for Remus. He's never been very poetic and this
feeling is small and fragile, like it could fit in his cupped hands, golden and warm where it
lives in his chest. He doesn't want to poke at it, in case it crumbles and his world turns back
to grey. So they don't talk about it, whatever this thing is between them. Sirius has taken to
giving him a new nickname every couple of days, and he’s mostly joking to get a rise out of
Remus, but there are a few real ones in there and he likes that he doesn’t have to admit which
is which. He also likes the exasperated huff from Remus when he picks a good one (My
Darling Babushka got him a loud snort, so he used it for a while). So far, he’s gone through
pumpkin, sweetheart, love, sugar buns, babe, dumpling, and princess.
‘Babe’ outlasts the others and he finds himself using it unironically one day when he says,
“M’gonna make a tea. Want one, babe?”

Remus accepts the offer with a hum and this becomes their new normal. One day, Remus
leaves a key on the bedside table on the side that Sirius sleeps, and Sirius takes it without a
word. They continue on reading and writing side by side, they talk and laugh over dinner, and
although they don't discuss how they feel, the feelings grow, frail vines creeping slowly from
Sirius’ chest, through his body, until it's in his fingertips when he brushes against the back of
Remus’ hand. He wonders if Remus feels it in his touch. He doesn’t know how he can’t,
when they spend hours on the couch, kissing each other stupid, until their lips are swollen
and raw and it always ends with both of them retreating to take separate, frustrated showers.

He still doesn't know why Remus is holding back. He doesn't push but the question burns
inside of him, and he's never been one to be patient. He thinks back to the sickly look Remus
had when he'd been on the roof of the library, the bandage and how secretive he seems about
it. Was he… positive? It would explain his reluctance to have sex, even though he clearly
wants to. There's still so much stigma around being HIV positive that Sirius wouldn't be
surprised if he wants to hide it. He tries to drop hints that he would be okay with it, he
mentions in passing that he still has his prescription for PrEP, but Remus doesn’t really react,
humming politely in acknowledgement as he scribbles in a book.

Three weeks pass in this way, and they’ve settled into a routine when things start to turn. It
begins with a spot of blood on the pillow.

Sirius blinks blearily in the early morning sun, willing his eyes to focus, and stares when he
realises what he's looking at. It's about the size of a coin, light red, ominous and stark against
the white of Remus' pillow. Sirius frowns at it before getting up and heading to the bathroom.
He hears water running and he doesn't bother knocking, opening the door. Remus is leaning
over the sink, pinching the bridge of his nose as blood runs down his chin, dripping steadily
into the rushing water. Sirius stares and their eyes meet in the mirror.

"Just a nosebleed", Remus says thickly, but his reassuring smile doesn't reach his eyes.

This seems to be the catalyst for the tension over the next few days. Remus starts sleeping
later into the mornings, and when he wakes it looks like he hasn’t slept at all. Sirius catches
him rubbing his temples and forehead like he’s got a splitting headache, and the apartment
becomes clouded in smoke almost constantly, as he inhales enough weed to knock out a
rhinoceros. It seems to help, but he still looks pale and sickly, and eats so little that Sirius
finds himself hovering around him in concern. Remus notices this and tells him that he needs
a few days to get better, suggesting that Sirius go back to his own apartment until he’s better.
Sirius refuses, insisting that he can take care of him, whatever it is, but there’s no arguing
with Remus’ firm stare and the sharp way he says, “Sirius”. He retreats to his apartment for
three days, sullen and unable to concentrate on anything. Remus invites him back on day
three, and he considers ignoring him out of spite. But the concern for his health makes him
antsy and he only resists for half a day before racing over to the flat. His irritation with
Remus vanishes in an instant when he sees how terrible he looks. The bags under his eyes are
a faint shade of blue, and the rest of his face is ashen, the two deep scars across his nose
almost fading into the white of his face. He limps slightly, and he explains it away as he
accidentally cut his leg when he was trimming the plants. It’s a feeble excuse, because he
refuses to let Sirius examine it, and he’s sure that there are more wounds hiding under the
baggy jumper and pants but Remus won’t let him close enough to see them.

He’s sitting at his usual place at the coffee table with his laptop open but blank in front of
him, glaring at Remus’ profile where he’s reading on the couch, feet propped up on the
armrest at an odd angle that must be relieving the pain in his leg. He’s looking a little brighter
after a few days' rest, but Sirius still worries. He’s distracted by the arrival of Lily and James,
who they can hear coming up the stairs outside the apartment, laughing. Remus lets them in
and they both pause at the doorway, staring wide eyed at Remus, concerned. Before they can
say anything, he waves away their unvoiced questions breezily, “I know - I don't look great,
but I’m feeling a lot better”.

Sirius watches with interest as Lily’s eyes narrow and lips thin, as if Remus’ illness is a sore
topic between them. She doesn’t say anything but she pats his shoulder gently and makes her
way over to the coffee table, to take her place across from Sirius. He hears James murmuring
his concerns to Remus but Sirius is focused on Lily. He makes sure that James and Remus are
deep in discussion in the kitchen as they make tea, before he leans around his laptop to hiss at
her, “What’s up with him?”

She looks up from her laptop, green eyes vibrant in the blue light of her screen, and she
doesn’t look surprised at his question.

“He won’t tell me”, she says quietly, voice tight, “he always changes the topic when I ask if I
can help. I’ve learned to stop asking”.

Sirius huffs impatiently and leans closer. “You’re going to be a doctor, right? Can’t you tell?
Or at least have an idea?”

“Oh yes, because doctors can diagnose anything from five metres away with no diagnostics.
Just this morning I diagnosed you with incurable ignorant git syndrome”, she snaps back, but
her eyes dart to the kitchen where Remus is leaning against the counter, looking him up and
down in obvious concern, and he knows that she has her suspicions.

He hesitates, “What if he’s positive?”

Lily’s gaze snaps back to him and her voice sharpens, “And if he is?”

He doesn’t need to explain what he means by ‘positive’ and he knows now that she’s been
thinking this too. He rolls his eyes at her suspicious glare and waves his hand as if it’s
nothing, “I don’t care, I’m not judging if that’s what you mean. I just want to help”.

Her face softens. “I honestly don’t know. You know I can’t tell by looks alone”.

“But the symptoms are there, right?”

“Yes and no." She argues, eyebrows furrowed and fingertips tapping on the table, “Mostly no.
It’s not always the same, of course, but it’s not textbook HIV. Besides, for symptoms to be
showing this much means the infection has progressed to AIDS and I don’t think that’s what
this is”.

The knot in Sirius’ chest loosens but he’s no closer to the answer. He frowns down at his
laptop, where his desktop is littered with various files of graphs and results he needs for his
thesis.

“What if I run some tests? I have everything you need for viral testing and it’d be easy
enough to get access to the biochem and full blood count analysers to figure out what it is if
it’s not viral”.

She shakes her head, frowning, “You’d get in so much trouble, using uni equipment for
personal use. And he won’t let you take a blood sample anyway. I’ve tried. I’ve tried to get
him to go to a doctor for years. And you can’t do it without his consent-”

He tuts at her, “As if I would-”

“I’m just saying. You need to talk to him, gain his trust, instead of trying to diagnose him
against his will. Everyone has the right to choose their own healthcare”.

It infuriates him that she’s technically correct but it’s such a typical Lily way of doing things
that he grumbles and leans away, pulling his laptop towards himself sharply as a way of
finishing the conversation.

She reaches across the table and places a hand on his arm, her tone surprisingly gentle, “I
want to help him too. We just have to do it the right way”.

He looks up, taking in the way her lips are thinned in worry, dark circles under her eyes and
her cheeks slightly drawn. Med school seems to be taking a lot out of her and he feels the
tiniest bit of guilt for asking more of her. He relents, nodding sharply and she pulls back,
returning to her laptop and chewing the skin around her nails as she clicks through a
slideshow at the speed of light, her face lit up with different colours as the images race by.

----

After a few more days, Remus appears to be completely recovered, and it’s like he was never
ill. Sirius almost puts the thought out of his mind, relishing in the way Remus allows him to
be physically close again. He begins dragging the coffee table close to the couch so he can
recline against Remus’ legs when he reads and he can pretend to work on his thesis while he
actually messes around on his phone. Remus’ hand ends up in his hair, playing idly with the
soft strands as he reads, fingertips running lightly across Sirius’ skin and he could spend the
rest of his life this way, being touched so gently that he feels something in him healing.

It doesn’t last. After three weeks, Remus starts looking pale and sickly again, and the knot
returns to Sirius’ chest.

He leans against the kitchen counter, folding his arms and frowning as Remus gingerly sips a
tea, as if his stomach is rolling at something as bland as tea.
“I’m guessing you’re going to ask me to leave now”, Sirius says bitterly, and the way Remus
doesn’t look at him is all the confirmation he needs.

He takes the cup from Remus’ hands and holds the cold hands in his own, trying to rub
warmth into them. Remus somehow manages to look past him even as he steps close enough
to feel breath on his face.

“I can help, let me stay, babe”, he murmurs, searching Remus’ face and finding nothing. The
let me in goes unsaid.

A frown flickers across the pale features and then the hands are gone, Remus is pulling
away.

“It’s only for a few days”, Remus replies quietly, voice infuriatingly calm.

Sirius wants to bury his face in the warmth of his neck, he wants a gentle hand stroking
through his hair and most of all he doesn’t want to leave, he wants to make his home in
Remus’ chest.

He turns sharply and walks out without another word.

He doesn’t plan to return that night, but he forgets his laptop and he’s glad of the excuse. In
the foyer, he slips past the man he now recognises as the landlord, his grizzled features
turning to follow Sirius as he climbs the stairs. Sirius feels his gaze follow him down the hall
and looks back, frowning. Maybe he thinks that Sirius is living there now, and he kind of is,
but things between him and Remus are fragile enough right now without a landlord pressing
them about the number of occupants and rent, so he hurries to the apartment. He lets himself
in but falters at the unexpected darkness. Remus went out? Where would he go in his
condition?

He turns on the lamp near the couch and the room looks much the same as when he left this
afternoon. His laptop is under the coffee table and he picks it up, frowning as he looks around
for a sign of where Remus might have gone. There’s a small purple book on the arm of the
couch and he hesitates for a moment before picking it up. There are coloured tabs marking
pages and lines that Remus wants to return to and he turns it over in his hands to read the
cover. Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. Curious, he opens the book to a random, tabbed page.

For a moment my soul was elevated from its debasing and miserable fears to which these
sights were the monuments and the remembrances. For an instant I dared to shake off my
chains, and look around me with a free and lofty spirit; but the iron had eaten into my flesh,
and I sank again, trembling and hopeless, into my miserable self.

He turns to another tab.

I do know that for the sympathy of one living being, I would make peace with all. I have love
in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not
believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other.

And another, almost at the end of the book, where the tab is bent as if this page has been
returned to many times.

My heart was fashioned to be susceptible of love and sympathy, and when wrenched by
misery to vice and hatred, it did not endure the violence of the change without torture such as
you cannot even imagine.

Underneath, Remus has written in his neat, loping script, Love and companionship and their
ability to reform even the most monstrous is the most important theme.

A sharp shriek from somewhere in the building below tears through the silence and Sirius
jumps. He doesn’t know how long he has been standing there, reading, but he comes back to
himself with a flash of guilt. It’s just a book but it feels like so much more, like he’s
thumbing carelessly through Remus’ most private thoughts. He wonders if it would be rude
to ask him about it.

He puts the book back and wanders through the apartment, making sure Remus really isn’t
there. As he makes to leave, an agonised howl comes from somewhere below. He pauses, key
in hand. The sound is tormented and it sounds like a dog in pain. He’s always had a soft spot
for dogs and the sound goes straight through him, setting his teeth on edge. He makes a split
decision to follow the sound, just in case there is a poor dog caught in something.

He makes his way down the stairs, following the sounds of snarling and yelping. He hopes
it’s not in an apartment, where he won’t be able to help, but the sounds continue further
down, past the doors of the apartments. He passes through the foyer and comes to dimly lit
stone steps, leading down into the darkness of what must be a basement. He hesitates. He
knows this is a terrible idea; now that he’s closer to the source, the animal sounds far more
ferocious and angry than just a dog in pain. He almost turns around but a sudden pained yelp
makes him jump and he clenches his fists, steeling himself. He descends, heart thudding,
breathing harder than usual. It’s cold, surrounded by concrete, and in the low light he can just
make out the shape of a large metal door at the end of the hallway. He can hear whimpering
now, and it pulls him forward, feet moving before he can stop himself. The door looks so
heavy and solid for a simple basement and there’s a chain looping through the handle, a large,
heavy padlock just visible in the light. The whimpering quietens and it’s just a miserable
sounding high whine now, as if the creature is in pain. He can’t help himself, he removes a
pin from his jacket, where he’s always kept it out of old habits of picking locks to get into
places he really shouldn’t be getting into. He hasn’t done this in a while but it only takes him
 a few minutes to hear a click and the padlock snaps open. He hesitates with his hand on the
chain and decides to leave it loosely looped, just in case whatever dog is in there is feral, so
the door won’t swing wide. He creaks the door open just the smallest crack and peers
through, holding his breath.

He can’t see anything for a moment. Moonlight streams through a tiny window on the far
side of an empty room. As his eyes adjust, he sees deep gouge marks in the concrete walls
and his heart begins to thud frantically. No dog could make those marks. Something moves in
the corner and he begins breathing again with a gasp.

Long, furry limbs step into the moonlight from the shadows, clawed feet scratching at the
concrete, and golden yellow eyes flash in his direction from the darkness. He tries to pull the
door shut but the creature, whatever it is, is shockingly fast and it hurls itself at the door. He
has the briefest glimpse of enormous snapping jaws, wild yellow eyes and a long snout, split
by two deep scars, before he manages to slam the door shut. He stumbles back as the wolf -
because that is the closest word he has to describe it - crashes into the door and howls in fury
at being denied a meal. He's frozen in horror, but the sturdy door shakes ominously as the
wolf throws itself at it again, clawing to get through, and he snaps out of his shock. He leaps
forward and pulls the chain tight, hooking the padlock back through it and then tears back
down the hall, taking the steps two at a time. A childhood fear of being chased up basement
stairs suddenly returns, newly justified, and he bursts through the door, slamming it shut
behind him and doesn’t stop running until he’s outside the apartment block, gasping in the icy
night air. He pants desperately, clenching shaking fists and tilts his head back to take in as
much air as he can. His gaze falls on the moon, hanging low and full directly above him. He
shakes his head. No, this can’t be real, this must be a nightmare, an awful, realistic, fucked up
nightmare.

He sprints back to his own apartment, as if chased by the moon itself and every terrifying
creature he hasn’t believed in since he was a child.

Chapter End Notes

So grateful to everyone who's read this far :)

 Chapter 4
Chapter Notes

Sex'n science

Sirius sees glowing yellow eyes and bared teeth whenever he closes his eyes. He sleeps
fitfully and the next two days pass agonisingly slow. He smokes far too much, and his hands
shake slightly, which he knows isn’t just from the nicotine. No one would believe him if he
told them, he’s sure. He doesn’t want to say it aloud, doesn’t want to hear his own voice say
the word werewolf.

But what else would it be? The enormous creature in the basement was far bigger than a
normal wolf, he’s sure. The limbs were oddly long, like something out of a book of
fantastical monsters, illustrated to scare and thrill children. And then there’s the two scars
across the nose, so terribly familiar that Sirius can’t deny it.

Remus messages him after two days and he freezes when he sees his name pop up.

You should probably come get your laptop. I don't know how you've survived without it for
two days.

Sirius hadn’t even realised that he left it in the apartment again - he must have put it down
when he’d picked up the book. He lingers over the message, thumbs poised to type out a
reply, but he puts his phone away without replying and ignores the unread messages from
James.

He goes for a walk and his feet automatically head in the direction of Remus’ apartment, the
route so familiar now that he can find it with his eyes closed. He hesitates across the street
from Remus’ apartment complex, staring up at the building which looms ahead, more
intimidating than it's ever seemed before. He hides his hesitation in smoking, trying to think
of what he would even say if he went in, when a familiar flash of red catches his eye. Lily is
coming down the steps, long hair flying in the cold breeze, and arms crossed in her parka. He
approaches her, barely remembering to check if cars are coming as he jogs across the street.
She starts at seeing him and her face is pinched in concern before she gives him a wan smile.

“Is he okay?”, he asks without preamble.

Her eyes search his face and his heart plummets at how worried she looks.
“I don’t know. He won’t let me in but he looks worse than usual”, she replies, sounding
frustrated.

He looks back up at the apartment block and his hesitation, which has been building over the
past few days, evaporates in a moment.

He doesn’t reply, leaving her staring after him as he takes the steps two at a time, heart
beating madly. He still doesn’t know what he’s going to say by the time he’s opening the door
to Remus’ apartment, but he hopes that he’ll see something that proves his suspicions wrong.
He calls out into the quiet lounge room, which looks the same as it always does, hardly the
home of a vicious beast.

Remus emerges from the bedroom, looking surprised and Sirius swears under his breath. The
entire right side of his face is a mottled blue-black which matches the enormous bruise on his
collarbone, half hidden by a knitted cardigan. He’s limping again and Sirius sees the telltale
white of a bandage at the sleeve of his cardigan, which he pulls down hurriedly when he sees
Sirius looking. The doubt and apprehension Sirius has been feeling for the past few days is
left at the door as he crosses the room in two strides and pulls Remus into an abrupt embrace,
avoiding the heavily injured right side. Suddenly it's obvious what he's going to say, like it
was never in doubt that he wants to help.

“You idiot”, he murmurs into light brown hair, stomach twisting, “why didn’t you let me help
you?”.

Remus pulls back gingerly and doesn’t meet his gaze. Sirius knows there’s an excuse on the
tip of his tongue for these fresh injuries but he cuts across before Remus can say anything.

“I went to the basement on the full moon. I saw you”, he states bluntly.

Remus’ expression freezes and his eyes widen.

“No”, he whispers in disbelief.

His eyes search Sirius' body frantically and there’s panic in his voice, sharp and demanding
when he snaps, “Did you get bitten? Scratched?”

Sirius shakes his head and Remus sags in relief before a shutter closes over his face.
Suddenly his features are twisting in bitterness and he’s pulling back sharply.

“You shouldn’t have followed me", he says quietly and Sirius flinches at how cold his voice
is, “Why did you come back?”

“I’m not going anywhere”, Sirius grates out, stepping closer again even as Remus looks away
resolutely, hands flexing as if he’s fighting not to walk away.

“That’s foolish of you”, Remus says bitterly, “you can see what I did to myself, I would do
the same and worse to you if given the chance. I’m dangerous and I never should have let you
get this close. I let you believe we could have something and it was selfish, so selfish. I’m
sorry, Sirius.”
Sirius realises that the bitterness and anger in Remus’ voice is aimed at himself, as if he isn’t
suffering enough already.

Sirius can't keep the frustration out of his voice when he says, “I don’t care. Look, I don't
know what the hell is happening or what kind of fairytale bullshit is real or not. And yeah,
maybe it's stupid, but it doesn't matter to me what you are".

"I'm not human", Remus grounds out, shaking his head.

"You're human now", Sirius argues, "And when you're not, I'll be there for that too. I’ll take it
all. Whatever you are, all of you”.

"What's wrong with you?" Remus whispers in disbelief, "I'm a monster, a literal monster,
Sirius. You can't just act like that doesn't matter."

"You're not a monster. A little hairier and angrier than usual-", he attempts to joke but Remus
looks back stonily and he changes tactics, "Look, you can't push me away. I'm here. I'm
staying".

Remus closes his eyes tightly as if he can’t bear to look at him and grits his teeth around the
words, “You can't. You need to go”.

“No”.

“Sirius, I’m not asking”.

“I’ve made my choice. Spare me your noble, 'saving me from yourself' shit”.

“There’s nothing here for you”, Remus says desperately, voice threatening to crack, "I can't
give you what you want".

"You're not fucking listening to me. It's you! You're what I'm here for, werewolf or not
because I-", he stops short and the silence is deafening. Remus stares at him and he sticks out
his chin, finishing his sentence defiantly, "I love you."

His heart is in his throat, but he keeps his gaze steady as light brown eyes continue to stare at
him in disbelief.

“Exactly as you are”, he adds quietly.

“You shouldn’t”, Remus whispers.

It feels like a fishing hook is tearing into Sirius’ heart and the end of the line is being pulled
by Remus. He steps closer.

He half expects his hands to be turned away, but Remus doesn’t move, allowing Sirius to
wrap his arms around him, nestling his nose in the crook of Remus’ neck. After a tense
moment, Remus sags into his arms, and Sirius hugs him as tight as he dares, hands gripping
tightly at the cardigan on his back. He smells like sweat and the sharp scent of antiseptic, but
underneath it all it’s just Remus, earthy cinnamon undertones, and Sirius thinks that if he
could choose his last breath on this earth it would be this one.

“I could have killed you”, Remus says with the slightest tremor in his voice, “I could have
infected you. I’m too dangerous.”

Sirius’ lips brush against his warm neck as he states simply, “You're worth the risk”.

Remus pulls back slowly, eyes searching his face, and Sirius has never seen him like this; raw
agony in every frown line, lips pulled downwards and the bruising looks worse this close. He
doesn’t know what else to say so he kisses him, soft and chaste, and Remus’ fist curls into the
front of his shirt, betraying how much he wants him to stay. Sirius presses soft kisses to his
cheek, his jaw, his forehead. It feels like pleading and there is no one else on the earth he
would plead with like this.

Let me love you.

Remus turns and catches his lips, lingering longingly, and it feels like an answer.

Please stay.

Sirius pulls back, wincing as he catches sight of the bruise on Remus’ collarbone, patchy blue
and purple. Remus sees him looking and smiles reassuringly, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I’ve looked worse”.

Sirius feels guilt curdling in his stomach as he realises the bruises are from the wolf throwing
itself recklessly at the door to get at him. He pulls away and tugs Remus forward to sit on the
couch, helping to lower him as he doesn’t seem able to bend his right leg. He automatically
sprawls on the floor at Remus’ feet, and rests his chin on his uninjured knee, looking up at
Remus thoughtfully.

“How long has it been this way?”

Remus stares into space, seeing something that Sirius can’t as he replies in a low voice, “I
was bitten when I was five. I’d read fairy tales about something living in the moors
surrounding my house. I went looking for it, to find out if it was real. It’s the biggest regret of
my life”.

His hand reaches out absently, as if he’s not even aware he’s doing it, long fingers stroking
through Sirius’ hair.

“My father scared it off before it could kill me. There's been days I wished he would have let
it - it’s very painful to live as a werewolf. My parents couldn’t hide my condition for long and
we moved to England, where no one knew us, so they could blame my symptoms on a
childhood illness. No one ever found out, although a few came close, so we moved a lot. The
only other person that knows is Cuthrow, the landlord.”

Sirius raises his eyebrows, remembering the way the landlord had watched him so intensely
the night of the full moon.
“He's an old family friend. He remodelled the basement of this place so I could go to
university - it would have been impossible otherwise”. He finally looks at Sirius, expression
almost apologetic, “I’m not myself when I’m transformed, as you saw. There’s none of me in
the wolf, it’s just anger and aggression and the instinct to kill. And because there’s nothing
else for it to hurt, I end up attacking myself”, he looks down at the edge of the white bandage
visible from his cuff. “I heal quickly but it always scars".

Sirius frowns, examining the cuts on Remus’ hands with fresh eyes. Now that he's looking
for it, some of the scars do look like teeth marks. It’s so much worse than he imagined and
he’s overcome with the urge to do something.

He frowns around his words, “And there’s nothing that helps?”

Remus shakes his head, “Just medicine for pain relief. And rest”, he pauses, his hand stilling
in Sirius’ hair. “Do you see what I’m saying now? It will always be this way, injuring myself
every month, unable to control it until eventually I won’t be able to heal anymore.
Werewolves don't live as long as humans, most die young from injuries, and the rest when
they stop being able to heal from the effects of the full moon. This isn’t the sort of life you
want to tie yourself to”.

“I can decide what I want for myself, Remus”, he snaps impatiently, his stomach turning cold
at the thought of Remus in pain and tortured every month for the rest of his life - which might
not be that long. He tries not to think about it.

Remus half smiles at his response, eyes softening fondly. “I should have known that you’d be
this stubborn. But I’ve been selfish. I just wanted more time with you so I kept telling myself
just one more day. I knew I could never stop at one”.

The hand in Sirius’ hair moves down to brush gently down his cheek, and the tenderness in
Remus’ gaze holds him, silent and still.

"This is really what you want?" He asks in a whisper.

"This is everything I want", Sirius insists.

Remus stares and the quiet of the room feels stifling. He nods just slightly, more to himself
than Sirius, but Sirius takes it as acceptance. He abruptly turns and kisses the palm against his
cheek, getting to his feet in a flash.

"Right, so ice for that face?" He says briskly, having had enough of raking over his deepest
feelings, laying them out for Remus to examine.

Remus half smiles, as if he's trying not to move the bruised side of his face and murmurs a
quiet thank you. Sirius makes himself busy in the kitchen, making two cups of tea and
wrapping an ice pack in a tea towel.

When he comes back into the lounge room, Remus’ head is tilted back against the couch and
his eyes are closed. Sirius approaches quietly, hovering at his side in concern until he realises
he's fallen asleep. His breaths are deep and slow, face finally relaxed, as if he’s been waiting
for this, for Sirius to return. Sirius wonders if maybe, despite all the protests, Remus has
made a home in him too.

—----

It turns out that the literature and information on werewolves is severely lacking, and Sirius
almost hurls a book at the wall in frustration after reading yet another bullshit theory about
silver, stopped only by Remus’ pointed glare. All he has to go on is what’s in legends and
fairytales. And Remus, surprisingly, knows little more. He tries to help Sirius where he can,
but having avoided doctors all his life, he doesn’t even know his own blood type. And that’s
the information that Sirius is really after - he needs physiological studies, biological facts,
down to the cellular and DNA level. He’s learned to think in this language and he feels lost
without the translation from ‘werewolf’, to substantiated, categorised, known thing ,
complete with a genealogical tree. He tries to wheedle an agreement out of Remus, to provide
him with a blood sample so he can run some tests. He assures him that the results will only be
seen by himself, and that they don’t automatically upload to the university server - it’s just to
help him understand exactly what lycanthropy is on a scientific level. Remus still resists, as if
he's scared of what Sirius might find, and Sirius loses his patience several times, leaving to
go for furious, long walks. He’s so engrossed in his new obsession that he brushes James off,
unable to explain what’s going on, so it’s easier to give him short answers or ignore him
completely. He doesn’t want to but he has other things on his mind.

After a particularly angry outburst, he comes back from a sullen walk, the collar of his jacket
pulled up against the wind and rain, and he drips water in a trail behind him as he enters the
apartment. He’s freezing but he manages a glare at Remus out of the corner of his eye, even
as his entire body shudders violently. Remus looks up from his book, half in the light of a
lamp and half hidden in the overcast light, more bemused than concerned, which annoys him
even more and he stomps off to have a hot shower. His mood matches the weather outside,
and the weak light from the windows leaves the apartment dim, even though it's the middle of
the day. He doesn't utter a word but he's noisier than he has to be when he prepares two
minute noodles in the kitchen. He’s caught off guard, kettle poised over the bowl of noodles,
when jumper clad arms snake around his waist and a warm body presses against his back. He
puts the kettle down with some force and turns his head to frown at the face resting on his
shoulder.

“You’re adorable when you’re pouting”, Remus says into his neck.

Sirius’ scowl deepens and he grumbles, “You wanna rethink that sentence?”

Remus pauses and the arms tighten.

“I know you’re trying to help me”, he says thoughtfully, “But I’m not used to people
knowing about my condition. It's second nature to be secretive after so long. I don't mean to
upset you”.
Sirius’ frown softens but he can’t help the sulky edge to his voice as he says, “I told you I’m
not going anywhere. You’ve been doing things your way all your life, which hasn't been
working, it’s time to try my way”.

Remus chuckles against his neck and Sirius shivers. Lips brush against his skin as Remus
murmurs in his ear, “I’m a fool for thinking I can deny you anything. Ask me for the sun and
you’ll have it”.

Something flutters in his chest and he turns in the circle of arms to face Remus, noses almost
touching. This close, he can see that Remus' injuries have healed remarkably well, and all
that's left of the bruising is some faint yellow/brown patches on his collarbone. Through the
low light, he vaguely notices one stray grey hair at his temple.

“Is that your soppy romantic way of saying you’ll do it?” he asks, smile forming because the
soft look in Remus’ eyes is already giving him the answer. Remus nods and Sirius kisses him
fiercely. This time, just like every time before, it feels like Sirius' world closes in like a
spotlight on this place and moment. Nothing exists outside the arms wrapped around his
waist. Sirius wraps his arms around Remus' shoulders, and gasps as his hips are grasped and
lifted onto the kitchen counter with an ease that takes him by surprise. He’s always been tall
and his frame is solid, not many men have been able to throw him around in the way that he
craves, but it looks like this one can.

He chases the kiss, leaning over Remus as he stands between Sirius’ dangling legs, hands
sliding through his light brown hair and gripping his clothes as he tries to convey what he
wants without words. Remus answers with hands stroking his thighs and hips, and tongue
sliding against his own. There’s an urgency in the way he presses closer, and Sirius vaguely
wonders if the no sex rule only applied when he didn't know about him being a werewolf. He
gets his answer when Remus grips his hips and jerks him forward so he’s pressed against his
chest, and Sirius moans at the forcefulness. Remus takes advantage of his distraction, kissing
his jaw and then his neck, tongue hot and wet on his skin. He adorns his neck and shoulder
with open mouthed kisses, and it starts a fire low in Sirius’ stomach, and he wants, he wants
so badly that he burns with it.

Remus breaks away to pull him off the kitchen counter and they stumble in the direction of
the bedroom, unwilling to break apart for another second, bumping into furniture and walls
with huffs of laughter, pausing to kiss against whatever they crash into. Sirius tumbles
backward through the bedroom door, and stops to haul his own shirt over his head. It hasn’t
even hit the ground before Remus’ hands are exploring the newly bared skin. His hands are
warm, skin soft but grip rough. Sirius plucks at the oversized jumper pointedly and Remus
hesitates only for a moment before dragging it over his head, along with his shirt. Remus
immediately steps closer to stay shrouded in the low light and Sirius' shadow, but Sirius
pushes back to take in the sight of Remus not drowning in oversized clothes.

Scars litter his firm but slender chest, overlapping and crowding in some areas. Remus’
shoulders are particularly scarred, the jagged, raised skin starkly white against the lightest
smattering of freckles. He tenses, hands twitching as if he wants to cover the scars and his
expression flickers with insecurity. Which is ridiculous because Sirius loves him, loves all of
him, and he pours it into his touch, running his hands reverently over the scars and chasing
them with lips and tongue.

“Can’t believe you hide this under all those jumpers”, the low murmur is muffled against
Remus’ skin but he knows it’s been heard because the shoulders untense, “How you ever
thought I wouldn't want to see this. I want you so bad. The things I want to do to you…”

He nuzzles into Remus’ neck, where his scent is strong and skin warm. Remus’ hand slips
into his hair. He isn’t expecting the sharp tug at the back of his head and he lets out a small,
surprised noise as Remus pulls him away from his neck to kiss him deeply again, soft but
demanding.

“Pants. Off”, Remus grinds out and the deep hoarseness of his voice leaves a trail of fire
down Sirius' spine. He obeys immediately, keenly aware of Remus watching him strip naked,
and it makes him harder. Remus stands back and takes his time drinking in each new patch of
revealed skin, eyes flashing in the light with the focus of a predator. Sirius steps back slowly,
not out of fear, but in invitation, falling back against the bed and leaning back on his hands,
erection arching into his stomach. Remus stalks forward, undoing his belt and fly as he does,
and Sirius finds himself biting his lip. His vision fills with Remus as he straddles his thighs
and towers over him. A hand firmly holds his jaw as Remus stares hard into his face. He’s not
sure what he’s being searched for by the piercing gaze, but he stills obediently. Remus seems
to find what he’s looking for and the grip softens, thumb stroking tenderly against his cheek.
He speaks, voice low and gravelly, and Sirius’ stomach twists with want.

“There’s something you should know. I can get a bit… assertive. I’ll control it unless you-”

Sirius huffs impatiently, croaking out, “I’ve been begging for your cock for months. Please”.

“Sirius”. The tone is gently admonishing and he finds himself obeying with startlingly little
resistance.

“Alright, I’ll say”.

Remus looks pleased and his eyes almost seem to glow. God, how Sirius is thrilled to please
and he wants to chase that feeling, wants to be whatever Remus needs, yearns for his
approval so badly that he almost feels embarrassed. But he already knows this about himself;
his eternal aching desire for a top who can garner his obedience with just a word or a look.
He doesn’t easily bow to anyone’s will, but here he is, folding to Remus’ whim without a
single thought of resistance in his head. It’s everything he’s ever dreamt of.

Remus kisses him tenderly, a reward that he drinks in greedily. He’s slowly pushed back into
the bed and Remus breaks away to sit back on Sirius’ thighs, trousers cool against his bare
legs and weight holding him down.

A hand loosely grips his cock and Sirius bucks. The hand pumps lazily, much slower and
looser than Sirius wants and he growls, twisting under Remus in protest. Remus just watches,
merciless.
“Do you want me to go faster?”, he murmurs, sounding amused and smirking, which adds to
Sirius’ frustration.

“You know what I want", he snaps, reaching down to touch himself. Remus catches his wrist
and presses it firmly onto the bed above his head. He squeezes in silent instruction to stay,
and it's like an invisible weight presses Sirius' hands down - he flexes his fingers but he
obeys. Remus pauses to rummage in a drawer of his bedside table and grabs a tube of lube,
his hand returning slick and cool. He pumps slowly, grip tightening, eyes never leaving
Sirius’ face. It almost feels like enough, like if he thrusts upwards hard enough he can find
satisfaction, but he knows he's not going to get it. He can see it in Remus' face, focused but
almost playful, like he's being toyed with. His frustration mounts but the need to please wars
within, and he grits his teeth against the pleading that sits at the back of his throat.

After a few minutes more of slow, exquisite torture, Remus moves down the bed and takes
Sirius in his mouth. Glorious, tight heat slides down and Sirius cries out, trying not to buck
too hard. Remus bobs his head and cups his balls, and Sirius shuts his eyes tight to block out
the image, wanting to last as long as he can.

He's so focused on the way Remus' tongue slides that he doesn't notice his legs being pulled
apart until the wet heat is gone.

“You just showered?” Remus asks hoarsely, but he knows that Sirius did, so he’s really
asking permission. Sirius nods but still gasps in shock as Remus parts his cheeks and dives
forward, tonguing his entrance. Oh, this is… something. Sirius has done this before but it
feels strangely intimate, the way Remus' face is pressed into him so tightly that he doesn't
know how he's breathing. He can’t help the strangled yell as Remus licks, tongue swirling in
circles, and then flicking quickly against the puckered skin. Sirius moans brokenly, and he
wishes he was on his front so he could muffle the noises he's making. He's always been self
conscious of the noises he makes during sex - maybe it comes from the shame of growing up
in a house where his sexuality was under a microscope and sex was treated as something
shameful. Or maybe it’s just because he feels like he sounds ridiculous. He's always muffled
the noises into something; a pillow, the mattress, his own hand.

But he can’t stop them now, not with Remus’ tongue pressing into him, and halting moans
escape him every few seconds. His hands twitch above his head as he longs to cover his
mouth, but he won't move them. The most he can do is turn his head, craning his neck to
press his face half into the bed. He desperately holds onto his brittle control, as Remus
devours him wildly, as if this is getting him off as much as it is Sirius, and god, that makes it
even hotter. Remus grabs his thighs and lifts his hips in the air, pulling him closer, diving
deeper and holding him there so tightly that he can’t move away even if he wants to. Sirius’
body shakes and he starts to plead, to be let go or for Remus to never stop, he doesn’t know.
He’s never gone to pieces this quickly, but he’s not even embarrassed when he begs, “Please,
please, Remus, fuck, please ”.

Remus groans into him and pulls back. His eyes are dark, black pupils wide. He straightens,
pushing his own pants down around his thighs, cock springing free. Sirius feels a thrill at how
hard he is, dusky pink, long and thick, making his mouth water. He reaches forward
automatically but Remus shakes his head, growling, “Stay”.
The word roots him to the spot and he watches longingly as Remus pumps himself. His eyes
rove over Sirius’ face and body like this is the last time he'll ever see him and he has to
commit this to memory. His brow creases and he groans, touching himself slowly as he looks
at Sirius as if he’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Sirius squirms impatiently but he doesn’t have to wait long. Remus holds out his hand in
invitation and it slides into Sirius' hair but he doesn’t have to be guided, this is what he’s been
waiting for, been dreaming of and imagining over and over again. He licks the underside of
Remus’ cock, root to tip, tonguing at the head and tasting salt. It’s heavy and hot on his
tongue and he looks up to watch Remus' reaction as he takes it in. Remus groans, low and
desperate, mouth slack and brow creased in pleasured agony, and he can’t seem to tear his
gaze away, watching raptly as Sirius bobs his head. Sirius pulls back and gets onto his hands
and knees for a better angle, and he’s pretty sure he hears Remus whisper ‘fuck’.

He hides his smirk as he licks along the length, and then takes it in deep. A low rumble can
be heard over the slick sounds of Sirius mouth, and he's not sure whether it's the thunder
outside or it's coming from Remus' chest. He slides further down and gags and chokes as the
length reaches the back of his throat, but the way Remus’ breath hitches draws him even
closer. He reaches up and pulls at Remus’ hand, pressing it tighter against his head to let him
know that he wants him to take what he wants, that he’ll take whatever pace and depth he
decides to set. Remus groans, grip tightening as he pulls him further down on his cock. Sirius
gags again but doesn’t pull away, just closes his eyes and concentrates on breathing and
trying to calm the spasm in his throat. Remus fucks his mouth, slowly at first and then faster,
deeper, as Sirius shows him how good he can be, how much he can take. His other hand
drops to Sirius’ throat, where it presses against his Adam's apple to feel his cock sliding in
and out. Praise, filthy and adoring, pours from his lips and Sirius drinks it all in, thrilling at
how broken Remus sounds.

“That's good, open for me. God, you take it so well, you love this don’t you? You’d take it
deeper for me wouldn’t you? You’re so good, Sirius, fuck, you’re incredible”.

He whimpers as the hand in his hair holds him down for a few breathless seconds, his nose
buried in the hair at the base, throat impossibly filled, and he feels his eyes watering as he
chokes. Then he's pulled up by his hair, and he’s gasping for air, gulping it down. Through his
blurry, watery vision he sees his own saliva still clinging to Remus’ cock, and a small, distant
part of his mind thrills at leaving his mark, like this belongs to him now and no one else will
ever please Remus like he can.

He vaguely registers being tugged into a kneeling position and Remus holds him so
reverently and lovingly, as if he hasn’t just been mercilessly fucking his throat. He kisses
Sirius’ cheek, his jaw, his neck, as he tries to catch his breath.

“You did so well”, he murmurs, hands cupping his face. Sirius smiles giddily at the praise
and Remus noses along his neck, breathing heavily as if trying to reign himself in. But Sirius
doesn’t want him reigned in, he wants him exactly like this, wild, forceful and taking what he
wants. And he knows how to get it.

“Fuck me”, he implores croakily, his throat absolutely wrecked.

Remus tenses against him and he knows these are the magic words. Remus pulls away from
his neck and pushes him down. He falls back happily, spreading his legs. Remus gets up to
pull his pants all the way off, and then crawls over him, bending to kiss his way up Sirius’
body. He pauses at his neck, licking and sucking kisses into the sensitive skin and Sirius
arches into him, grasping at his arms and back, and Remus presses him down with his body.
They both groan as they slide together and they stay like that, rocking for a minute, the length
of them rubbing together enticingly, and Remus’ teeth graze his neck, control starting to slip.
He tears himself away from Sirius’ body, and reaches for the lube. He coats two fingers
liberally and presses them against Sirius’ entrance, circling and rubbing. He gradually adds
pressure until Sirius’ body opens, and one finger slides in.

Sirius’ throat closes, already swollen and raw, and now he can’t breathe as his arse stretches
and Remus slides his finger in and out slowly. He’s missed this - he fingers himself when he
wanks but it’s different when it’s someone else's hands, and god, he’s missed having someone
inside him. The finger slides all the way in and he gasps, fists clenching in the sheets. Remus
leans over him, eyes intent on his face, drinking in each gasp, moan and tortured expression.
He sees something in Sirius’ face that tells him he’s ready for another finger, and he slides
two in and out. Sirius cries out before he can swallow the sound, and Remus nods
encouragingly, silently telling him that he wants to hear each and every sound he can wring
from him. The fingers curl and he jerks, whimpering and biting his lip, as they brush his
prostate. His cock jumps and Remus’ face sharpens, his new target acquired. He rubs
upwards over Sirius’ prostate repeatedly and watches, mesmerised, as Sirius arches violently.
He rocks his hips, not knowing whether he wants more or if it’s too much, and then it’s three
fingers and he’s begging, pleading again. It seems to be all he knows how to do now, a
whimpering, begging mess in Remus’ hands, and he hates his own voice, how it sounds so
wrecked and foreign.

“I can’t, I can’t anymore. Please, fuck me now, I’m ready. Remus, please ”, the last word
ends in a growl, because he can’t take this anymore, he wants to pin Remus down and slam
his arse down on his cock until he comes.

Remus murmurs praise soothingly at him, withdrawing his fingers. He pushes Sirius’ thighs
down, spread wide against chest, so he’s bent in half. It’s an open, vulnerable position, and it
feels purposeful, the way Remus leans on his thighs and holds him down. Remus must have
lubed himself up at some point, because when he holds his cock against Sirius’ entrance, it’s
cold and slippery, and he slides it up and down, spreading the lube around. Impatient, Sirius
reaches down between his legs and guides the cock to his hole. Remus’ face contorts in a
pained smile at his impatience, and he complies, pushing in slowly.

It’s a lot. It’s almost too much. Sirius breathes deeply and tries to relax, willing himself to
open up. He strokes his own cock, and feels his hole flutter, letting the head of Remus’ cock
in. He groans, head falling back at the pressure inside him. It’s been a while and Remus is a
decent size, but he wants it so badly that he nods his head to ask for more. Remus looks
pained, his frown deep and mouth hanging slack as he struggles to control himself. He slides
in further, rocking his hips slightly, and Sirius feels himself open up. He has no time to catch
his breath before Remus feels the give and slides in deep. He’s sure that his shout can be
heard in the surrounding apartments, and he bites his lip hard to stop himself from screaming
at the ceiling. Remus is deep inside him and it’s filling him up, he feels so full and just when
he feels like he can’t possibly take more, a little more pushes deeper. Remus starts thrusting,
jaw clenching with the effort of controlling his thrusts, and Sirius’ head falls back, eyes
tightly shut, hair fanning around his face and sticking to his sweaty skin. It’s fucking
incredible. He’d almost forgotten how much he likes to be fucked, and this is exactly what he
wants, held down and taken like his body exists to be filled. It's as if Remus knows exactly
what he's been craving without having to ask.

Hands are gripping his thighs so tightly that it hurts, but it feels like being desired and owned,
so he revels in it. Then the hands are gone, Remus is pulling out, and Sirius cries out at the
loss. His eyes snap open to glare up at the teasing fucker, expecting his mouth to still have
that irritating twist of amusement. But there's no trace of humour to be found and he stares
like he's never seen him before.

Remus looks wild. There's sweat beading on his upper lip, a muscle jumping in his jaw as it
clenches, and his eyes are feral but focused, burning with hunger. There's no hint of the soft
smile that Sirius is used to, there’s no sign at all of the calm, collected man he knows, who
promised him the sun in the kitchen. Remus wordlessly flips him over onto his front, and he
shouldn't be able to do that so effortlessly. Sirius tries not to think about how it makes his
cock twitch, that he knows there's something ferocious that lives inside Remus and it can
throw him around like nothing. He scrambles to his knees, chest pressed against the bed and
he arches his back invitingly. He smirks into the sheets at Remus’ choked groan - he knows
exactly how he looks right now and he rocks his hips, hoping Remus loses it and fucks him
like an animal. Hands grip his hips and suddenly he’s full again and he screams into the
mattress, shock and pleasure coursing through his body. Remus sets a punishing pace and
finally, finally, he’s being fucked. He moans into the sheets in relief, at last he doesn't have to
hold back all the noises caught in his throat, and they spill into the mattress with every thrust.
Remus is grunting behind him, hips slamming into his arse and hands pulling his hips back to
meet him. His cock presses against Sirius’ prostate when he tilts his hips just right and he
squirms, chasing the tingling feeling racing up his spine.

His hair is suddenly yanked, raising his head up from the bed and he grunts in surprise.

Remus growls, “Don't you hide from me. I want to hear you, I want to hear how much you
love this, I want to hear you beg for it”.

He lets out a whimper at the command and then it turns into a moan. Soon he's crying out
louder than he's ever dared, because Remus wants it and he'll give him whatever he wants; he
could ask for his soul right now and he'd hand it over with a smile as long as he doesn't stop
moving. His head is held up by his hair, and he can't stop the sounds spilling out. He pulls
against the grip, jaw slack, eyes rolling, as he's reduced to a loud, whimpering, babbling
mess, and it feels good . It feels so good to let go and have someone there to hold him. He
spares half a second to wonder when he became such an unabashed cock slut, and if later he'll
look back on this and be embarrassed. He doesn't know exactly what it is about Remus that
opens him up this way, but he feels seen and understood and appreciated - like they've been
having sex for years for all the trust and intimacy underneath the roughness.

Remus speeds up, murmuring praise to join Sirius’ cries and he can’t take it anymore, he
reaches down and pulls at his own cock. Remus hasn't explicitly told him he can't but he half
expects to be stopped, because his pleasure doesn't belong to him anymore, Remus is taking
care of him and he's in ecstasy, knowing that he doesn't have to choose a single thing, he just
has to take it. He’s allowed to continue and he lets out a cry of relief, taking it as permission
to bring himself off. He pumps only a few times, body shaking, muscles tensed, before he’s
jerking, cock pulsing in his hand and he spills onto the sheets, gasping and crying out as
white heat flashes through his body. He feels himself clenching uncontrollably around Remus
and through his haze, he keeps bearing down, even as his body protests at the
overstimulation, willing Remus to follow him. Remus’ breath is stuttering, pace faltering, and
then Sirius, arms shaking and weak, is roughly pushed forward into the bed. He collapses
onto his stomach, pressed into the wet spot on the mattress as Remus buries himself in his
body, jerking and groaning so gutturally deep that it almost sounds like an animal. They're
pressed flush together and it feels right, like Sirius has found where he belongs.

He clenches his eyes shut, feeling full and sore - it's perfect. He wants to imprint this sex into
his memory forever so he has wank material for a lifetime.

When he lifts his head from the bed to breathe, a whimper escapes him as Remus slowly
pulls out. He knows if he stands he'll be leaking Remus' cum and the thought sends a lazy
shiver up his spine, although he can’t get hard yet. Hands are stroking soothingly over his
arse and back, warm and gentle, and then he’s being turned over. Remus’ face hovers above
him and he searches his face in concern.

“Are you alright?”

Sirius grins dopily, reaching up to pull Remus to lie down next to him. “I’m dead. In a good
way.”

“It wasn’t too much?”

“God no”, Sirius mumbles, closing his eyes, “I’ve been waiting my whole life to be fucked
like that. I’ll still be wanking to it in 40 years”.

He hears Remus huff in laughter, and he grins widely, floating in the darkness behind his
eyelids. He feels soft kisses pressed onto his shoulder and he opens his eyes. Remus’ head is
propped up on his hand as he lies on his side. He’s smiling and it’s so beautiful that Sirius
almost loses his breath again. Half his face is in shadow from the overcast light from the
windows, but what he can see of his face is open in a new way, and Sirius turns slightly to
gaze at him.

“Is that why you didn’t want to have sex before?” he asks, "You thought I couldn't take it?"

Remus hums thoughtfully, looking away, “It wasn't you. I was worried about losing control.
But now that you know about the wolf, I don't have to try and hide the more animal parts so
much.”

It doesn't sound like the whole answer but Sirius is too content to mind.

"It felt good", he rasps, the strain in his throat making him grin, "you don't have to hold back.
I like it".
Remus smiles and rolls onto his back, one hand under his head as he gazes up at the ceiling
lazily. Sirius moves closer, tracing over a trail of scars on Remus' ribs. The scars here are
particularly raised and in the shape of jaws. He wonders if this was the original bite. He
doesn't mind the scars, they're part of Remus and he loves him as he is, but he dreads seeing
more appearing. The marks on his body are already a map of all the pain he's endured in his
life and Sirius can't bear the thought of more.

"I'm glad you're listening to me." He says quietly, "I just need to know if there's anything I
can do. And this is all I know how to do".

He knows that Remus is aware that he's talking about the blood sample. He continues to stare
up at the ceiling, silent. Then he places his hand over Sirius', and says, "No one has ever
wanted to help this much. That’s already enough".

"There's more, I know there's more", Sirius presses.

Remus smiles but he doesn't look hopeful. He pulls at Sirius' hand to tug him closer so he lies
with his head on his shoulder, arm draped across his chest.

"Alright. Whatever you need", Remus murmurs into his hair.

Outside, the rain lashes the windows and the storm rumbles overhead.

‐—-------

Sirius nicks a butterfly needle and sample test tubes from the bio lab stores. He looks up how
to take blood, but he has no one to practise on so it takes him a while to successfully get the
needle in Remus' vein.

"If you'd let me ask Lily, you wouldn't look like a human pin cushion right now", Sirius
grumbles, dabbing at the failed punctures on Remus' arm with a tissue.

"You're doing fine", Remus reassures him, not even flinching as Sirius clumsily removes the
needle.

He applies pressure with a cotton ball and waits for the bleeding to subside, the silence
pressing in on all sides as he fights with himself not to say anything.

He loses the fight and bursts out, "She can help. I'm not a whole human body expert, not that
she is, but-".

"No, Sirius", Remus overrides him gently but firmly.

They've already argued about this; telling Lily about Remus' condition and asking for her
help in analysing the results, and Sirius lost, even though he thinks his argument was better.
There's just no arguing with Remus when he's truly made up his mind, but Sirius has to
protest anyway.

He seethes silently, grabbing his hard won samples and packing his stuff away.

Remus shakes down his sleeve and grabs Sirius' shirt as he stomps past, pulling him close.
Sirius goes willingly but he's still scowling as Remus kisses him.

"You are remarkably pretty when you're angry with me", Remus says pleasantly, grinning as
Sirius frowns harder, "I feel like I'm always saying it".

"Want to see what I look like pissed?" Sirius retorts but it's not a real threat and they both
know it.

Remus kisses him again, slow, deep and there's a hint of apology in it that soothes a tiny bit
of his irritation.

"When will you be back?" Remus asks, pulling away and picking up Sirius' laptop from the
table to hand to him.

Sirius adjusts his bag on his shoulder, samples clinking faintly.

"When I've got the cure".

The laptop almost slips from Remus' hands and he catches it just in time.

"What?"

Sirius grins in satisfaction as Remus stares in horrified disbelief. He spreads his arms to
indicate at himself, “You’re looking at a certified genius, my tart little sherbert lemon. If
anyone can do it, it’s me”.

Remus shakes his head, voice tight and almost pleading, “There is no cure. Sirius, please
trust me. Don’t go down this path”.

“Or no one has ever looked at it from the right angle”, Sirius argues, “and by right angle I
mean through a microscope”.

“Please-”

“Look, I fuck around in class but I’m pretty good at what I do. Excellent, actually. Trust me ”.

Remus’ features contort like he’s tasting something bitter and fighting with himself not to spit
it out. But then he sags in defeat, covering his face with one hand.

“I know I can’t stop you, but please think about this - you have your thesis to finish, you
shouldn’t be wasting your time trying to help me”.

“Ah ah, don’t you remember?” Sirius admonishes with a shit eating grin, snatching his laptop
from Remus’ hand, “It can’t be a waste of time because it makes me who I am, which makes
it worthwhile. Or something like that. It sounded better when you said it. Such a poet”.

He leaves Remus standing there, astonished and lost, and escapes to the lab.

He has to call in all the favours he’s accumulated over his years at uni. Actually, they’re not
so much favours as he charms researchers and fellow post grads into giving him access to
machines and materials, and makes them think he’s the one doing them the favour. It’s a
delicate art and he’s mastered it.

He spends all of his days and half of the nights in his lab, feverish and devoted in a way he
has never been to his studies. He starts with biochemistry, testing for organ function, oxygen
levels, nutrient and electrolyte levels - testing for anything he can with the materials he has.
He runs a full blood count, which will give him a decent idea of Remus’ general health (he
already knows it’s going to be terrible - the man sustains himself on tea and weed for one
week out of the month). As an afterthought, he runs a sample through Boris, but he doesn’t
hold out hope for anything revealing - Boris can only look for specific viruses, not anything
unknown, and last he checked the university didn’t stock werevirus reagents in the fridge.

He works for weeks, accumulating all of the data he can. He also has to learn what it all
means, because, while he told Remus that he was brilliant, this isn’t his area of expertise and
it’s all a jumble of meaningless numbers. This is what Lily would have been useful for but he
keeps his word and keeps to himself. He pores over medical journals and textbooks on his
laptop, and he starts to understand why Lily always looks so tired. There’s so much to take in
that he doesn’t have time to eat and sleep properly, and he goes back to his own place so he
doesn’t get distracted from his work by wanting to spend time with Remus. Remus isn’t even
the main problem though - James has taken great offence to being ignored and his messages
become increasingly unhinged.

I used to have a mate, what was his name again? Simon? Samuel? Sir-fucking-wanks-a-lot?

He was such a prick

I miss him. Only a little

Can you at least tell me why I’m being ignored

Did something happen with Remus?

I feel like a fucking side piece

I’ve been ghosted

This is now a situationship

At least give me proof of life

I’m alive, I’m just busy. I’ve got my meeting coming up with Mcgonagall and I haven’t got
shit

(This part is true, he has his progress check in meeting with his Honours supervisor in few
months and he’s done fuck all for his thesis while he’s been working on the cure).

Fine.

You’re still being weird.

Remus also messages him, but only every few days, to express concern and remind him to
look after himself. Sirius thinks his messages are a little stiffer and even more formal than
usual, but he’s too focused on his work to dwell on it.

Finally, finally , after two weeks, he’s compiled enough information on Remus to fill a thick
textbook, and he feels a grim satisfaction at being able to quantify what’s wrong with him,
instead of “moon full, werewolf goes awoo”, which sums up the literature on werewolves.

He invites Remus to his lab, buzzing with excitement to tell him his findings - there’s no cure
yet but he’s just getting started.

He’s so focused on his work that he doesn’t hear Remus enter the lab. He frowns hard at his
laptop, eyes grainy and itchy, trying to move the graph of Remus’ platelet levels one inch to
the left, cursing under his breath when it sends the rest of the document into a meltdown,
slicing another graph in half.

He sees movement out of the corner of his eye and jumps, before realising it’s Remus staring
around at the equipment with interest but looking lost.

He grins wider than he has in weeks and it feels like his lips are cracking.

“My ray of sunshine!” he calls across the lab, beaming, and Remus gives him a worried
smile.

“You look terrible”, Remus says anxiously as he approaches, reaching out to stroke his back.
Sirius leans into the touch happily, stretching, as he says, “It’s a labour of love”.

He pulls Remus to sit on his lap so he can show him the documents on his laptop, but Remus
mutters, “Absolutely not”, under his breath and pulls up a chair next to him. Sirius laughs,
feeling more alive than he has in weeks, and he realises how much he’s missed him. He
shoves the thought aside as he gets ready to present his findings.

“Right, so”, he begins elegantly, “first of all, no surprises - you’re a walking zombie. You
need to eat some vegetables, which is saying something coming from me. All your basic
vitamin levels are a bit fucked but present. Your platelet count is pretty high, which could be
an infection, but not bacterial. The white cell count is off the charts, this is up there with
people who have autoimmune diseases. Basically, all your results point to really bad
inflammation, which explains a lot of your symptoms, like the muscle pain you get before
and after the full”.

Remus nods but he looks dazed and Sirius hasn’t even got to the best part. He barrels ahead,
scrolling down pages of graphs, speaking quickly, “And here - look at your PTX3, MxA, and
CD46 levels. These are crazy high, so I thought, that sounds a lot like a viral infection. So I
looked at your Boris results - sorry, viral immunoassay results - and they’re all invalid! I
thought it was Boris being a dick, because he is a dick, but I ran it five times and it’s still the
same. The only thing I can think of is that you’ve got something viral that’s interfering with
the assay. It's like, if you’ve got the flu and you try to test for hepatitis, it can cause a false
positive or mess with your results. But the thing is, the viral levels are so low that it can
barely be detected. I can’t get a good look at what it is because it's not enough to replicate,
but then, that makes sense, because you’re not infectious when you’re human”.

He looks at Remus excitedly, expecting his face to be lit up in realisation but he just looks
blankly at the graphs, brow furrowed.

Sirius sighs impatiently, forcing himself to slow down and explain, “What I’m saying is: I
think I know what it is. It’s a virus. Somehow, when the moon is full, the virus replicates so
quickly that it becomes a full blown infection and you change into a big bad wolf. But when
the moon isn’t full, it’s dormant, and you’re not infectious, you can’t really see the effects of
it, apart from the inflammation it causes. It’s just a virus, and luckily for you, it’s met its
match in the most brilliant, hottest virologist to ever live”.

Remus looks at him, eyes wide and face slack. Understanding begins to dawn on his face and
Sirius glows with pride.

“That’s-that’s incredible”, Remus says in a hushed voice, "you're… I can't believe it".

Sirius nods, basking in the praise, because really, he might be an arrogant bastard but he
backs it up with stone cold facts - gorgeous, genius, and an excellent fuck.

He spins in his chair to face Remus directly, grasping his hands to hide the fact that they’re
shaking in excitement.

“So what I need to prove my theory”, he says, voice quivering slightly, “is a sample with a
proper viral load. The levels in the blood I got from you are too low to study properly, I’m
only getting fragments and I don’t have the equipment to test such tiny amounts. If I’m going
to make something to treat it, I’ve got to get a good look at its morphology and be able to
replicate the RNA.”
Remus is still gazing at him in awe, and while that’s wonderful, he needs him to understand
what he’s saying. He resists the urge to shake him impatiently (he never really was a good
teacher, Remus is much better suited to it).

“I need a sample from the wolf, once I have that, I’ll be able to find out everything about it
and I can find something to treat it. Or at least treat-”

“No”.

Sirius stops, stunned.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” he says slowly and incredulously, “This is the answer, this means
you might not have to transform anymore”.

The look of awe on Remus’ face has been replaced by the familiar sternness that Sirius
associates with being admonished.

“And for that you need a sample from me during the full moon. While I’m the wolf. It’s too
dangerous, it’s not happening”.

“You’re fucking kidding me”.

“I mean it, Sirius”, Remus shakes his head, glancing back at the laptop where Sirius’ work is
still displayed, “I really appreciate what you’ve done. More than you’ll ever know. But this is
already more than enough. I’m so lucky to have someone like you in my life and I’m not
going to put you in danger”.

“Now you’re just being thick”, Sirius says hotly, sharply pulling his hands back, “I’m giving
you the answer, you don’t even have to do anything, and you’re still telling me no, just like
you have the whole time I've known you. No, I don't want a date, no, don't stay and help, no,
you can't have a sample. And you were wrong all those times. When are you going to trust
me?"

“And how are you planning to get a blood sample from a transformed werewolf who can
smell you from a mile away and hear your heartbeat through three feet of concrete?”, Remus
says coolly.

Sirius’ mouth works, before he lands on, “I haven’t worked out the details yet, alright?
Maybe a cage or something-”.

“I’ve broken out of cages before”, Remus shuts him down, “Nothing contains me except that
room. And you cannot, under any circumstances, be in that room with me”.

Sirius’ happy glow from presenting his hard work has completely simmered away now. All
he feels is anger and disbelief. He wants to shake Remus, to make him see sense, because for
once, Sirius isn’t the unreasonable one.

“There’s a way to do it”, he grinds out stubbornly, “I just haven’t thought of it yet.”
“Anything that involves you near me when I’m transformed is a hard limit, Sirius”, Remus
says firmly, in that tone that means, an unbending, flat ‘no’.

“You’re being fucking dense. And ungrateful”, he spits out, getting to his feet to leave, and
his chair scrapes against the floor, loud and sudden in the quiet lab. Remus stands quickly and
sidesteps so he’s blocking Sirius from leaving. Sirius’ lips curl back over his teeth and he’s
furious now, but then Remus is cupping his face with both hands, so gentle and tender that it
catches him off guard, angry words dying in his throat. Remus is looking in his eyes
earnestly, almost pleading with him.

When he speaks, his voice shakes, “Please, please understand. I don’t want to hurt you. I
would rather live with this hell a thousand lifetimes over than hurt you in just one”.

The words slip through the cracks of Sirius' composure, reaching the part of his mind where
his mother's words live. " You're a disappointment " and " I wish you'd never been born ",
sound weak and feeble next to a devotion that spans lifetimes. He's always been terrified of
what people would discover if he lets them in, what damage would they see and find
distasteful - attractive on the outside but unloved and damaged on the inside.

The fight seeps out of him, and he looks down, blinking fiercely as his eyes start to burn.

Remus steps closer, tipping Sirius’ head back up so he has to look at him, and Sirius frowns,
mortified that Remus' face is blurred and watery.

“I’ve been searching for you all my life without realising it.” Remus murmurs, “In books,
words, places. But it’s you, I finally found you. And I think I forgave the world for making
me what I am, when I did.”

Sirius feels his lip quivering and he bites it fiercely. Remus’ thumb follows, soothing at the
bitten skin. Sirius breathes in shakily.

“You're everything, Sirius. Promise me, you won’t put yourself in danger for me”, Remus
pleads, quiet but desperate.

And how can he say no? When Remus loves him so deeply that it makes ‘I love you’ sound
cheap and flimsy. 'You're everything', pulls him out of the deep well of his mother's words,
and suddenly he's standing, warmed in the sun. Sirius nods jerkily and Remus smiles, brown
eyes warm and home , he wants to go home.

Sirius pulls away, bending to get his bag and furiously wiping his eyes on his sleeve as he
does.

“Can’t believe you think you’re not a romantic”, he mutters as he straightens and closes his
laptop.

“Love makes fools out of us all”, Remus says with a feigned air of mystery and a smile,
taking his hand as they make their way out of the lab.
They go back to Remus’ apartment and Sirius breathes in the familiar smell with a sigh of
relief. He doesn’t even make it past the doorway before Remus is kissing him, adoringly, love
poured into every touch. He pushes him up against the wall, Sirius' thighs wrapped around
his hips, and rocks against him slowly, whispering in his ear everything he's going to do to
him, how he's going to take him apart. The last of Sirius’ frustrations fade away when Remus
fucks him, slowly and purposefully into the couch, murmuring into his ear how incredible he
is, how he adores him. Sirius hides his face in the soft fabric of the couch and takes it all, and
neither of them mention how the couch is wet after, where his face was buried.

Afterwards, they lie tangled together, and Sirius traces the scars on Remus’ shoulder where
they glow white in the soft golden light. He tries to imagine a future where he stands by and
lets Remus tear himself apart over and over again, when he’s the only one capable of helping
him.

He can’t.
 Chapter 5
Chapter Notes

Your comments absolutely light me up inside and out. Genuinely

Also.
I apologise for this chapter

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Sirius keeps his word for two weeks.

The days leading up to the full moon are rough, as always, but he gets some over the counter
anti-inflammatory pills for Remus and they seem to help a little. He's not so stiff and sore,
and in the evenings, Sirius lies him face down on the bed and spends hours trying to massage
the rest of the ache out of him.

Remus seems delighted by the results. He protests at being fawned over, but when he stands
after the massages, he stretches and grins in disbelief at the looseness of his muscles.

He smokes less and eats more, and it feels like maybe this isn't so bad, maybe it can be
managed this way. But there's a knot in Sirius' stomach and it only gets tighter closer to the
full moon. He knows he has to just sit by as Remus transforms and tears at himself. Remus
carefully suggests he go back to his own apartment for the night, and Sirius knows he's
probably right, that it'll only make it worse being able to hear it, but he can't bear the thought
of leaving. So he curls up on the couch, in Remus' usual reading spot, and stares at the books
on the wall without seeing them.

"At least get some sleep", Remus says gently, bending to brush Sirius' hair out of his face.
Sirius doesn't reply.

He resents his agreement now, to stop chasing the cure if it means getting blood from the
wolf. This waiting, this anticipation is terrible and he wishes he had a plan, something to do.
He wants to lash out, feels anger bubbling beneath the stillness, so he keeps his mouth shut.
Remus lingers for a few more moments, brow furrowed in concern, but then winces as the
moon pulls at him.

It's time to go.

He turns and leaves, worriedly looking back one more time. But then he's gone and the
apartment is silent.

Sirius waits. He knows it's coming. He heard it on the last full moon; the shrieks of pain, the
howling. He could put music on and drown it out but the thought is abhorrent. It feels like the
least he can do is lie here and go through it with Remus in this way if he can't physically be
there with him. The room darkens and he waits, breathing shallow and heart thudding
frantically.

The first scream makes him jump, even though he's been waiting for it. It's muffled and faint,
through several floors of the building, but it's unmistakably a human cry of pain. His fists
clench and he gasps as another one comes, louder and more wild, more animal. Then the
howling starts. Long, mournful, calling howls. The wolf howls, and even through the
concrete and the metal door, it rattles through Sirius' ribcage. The howl fades into nothing but
then come the high pitched squeals of pain as it throws itself around the room and tears at
itself, tormented to find itself once again trapped in the small concrete prison.

Sirius presses his face into the couch and screams, he screams until his throat is hoarse, his
own muffled cries joining the wolf's through the lonely night.

He falls asleep at some point. The click of the door opening wakes him and he bolts upright.

"Sorry", Remus whispers as he shuts the door behind him, "didn't mean to wake you".

Sirius stares for a second, tired but warm brown eyes in the scarred face, scarred but no fresh
injuries, before launching himself off the couch and into Remus' chest. He smells like sweat
and that earthy cinnamon smell that's all Remus, and Sirius takes a deep, shuddering breath.
Before he realises what's happening, his shoulders begin to shake. He tries to hold in the tears
but the relief at seeing Remus alive and home after hearing the wolf rage all night has torn
through his composure, and the first sob bursts out of him, breaking the dam. Remus' hands
falter for a second in surprise but as Sirius buries his face deeper into his shoulder, he holds
him tightly, stroking his back. Sirius hates himself for it. He should be the one doing the
comforting; that's why he stayed, to look after Remus. But he can't keep it together, and the
shoulder of Remus' jumper is wet, where Sirius has pressed his face, trying to stifle his sobs.
He cries like he hasn't cried since he was disowned by his parents, curled into James' chest,
hiding the pain of being unloved in the safety of his best friend. And it feels like that now -
like he can pour all of the anguish and helplessness he feels into Remus' shoulder and it'll be
safe and hidden in someone who loves him, taking his pain in his hands and holding it for
him.

Remus loves him and Sirius is letting him suffer, he's choosing not to help to save his own
skin, and it feels like he's watching helplessly as Remus slowly kills himself. And Remus
comforts him for it. 'Sorry, my blood is staining your clothes', while he stands there uselessly
with the antidote in his hand. He feels helpless. Trapped. Eight years old and forced to watch
as his little brother gets beaten for his own transgressions, his mother's voice in his ears, 'This
is your fault, Sirius. I have to do this because of you. I told you not to, now look what you've
done' .

This is all his fault.

Remus' shoulder is soaked by the time his sobs subside, his gasps evening out into deep
breaths. The arms remain firmly holding him even as he calms, and Remus turns to kiss his
head, his ear, whatever he can reach with Sirius still resolutely hiding his face.
Sirius steps back, keeping his head down, as if it's any secret what he looks like right now,
and Remus takes his hands firmly, pulling him closer.

He belatedly realises Remus is speaking, still stuck in the drawing room of his childhood
home, where his little brother screams and bawls.

"... that I've hurt you. I'm so sorry you had to hear it. I know it's horrible, I know. But I’m
alright, you’re alright".

Remus crowds against him, holding Sirius' face in his hands. He tries to pull away, mortified,
as thumbs wipe his tears away. He forces out a laugh at himself but it comes out as more of a
desperate sob and Remus' brow furrows deeper.

"Oh, bach - sweetheart, I'm so sorry. I'm here, I'm here", Remus' voice breaks and it sounds
like there's a lump in his throat.

Sirius reaches up and wipes his face with his sleeve furiously as he feels a matching lump
return to his own throat and his eyes threaten to water again.

He chuckles and it comes out watery and feeble, before mumbling, "M'sorry, I don't know
what-why I'm… fuck. I'm sorry, pretend this didn't happen. Are you okay?"

He steps back to take in Remus, making sure he looks like he's in one piece. He does for the
most part, although he's holding his left arm at a strange angle, as if it hurts. Sirius reaches
forward but Remus turns and smoothly scoops him into his right side, holding him against his
chest again.

"I'm fine, don't worry", he says gently, "the wolf is just dramatic. I swear it screams like
murder but I'm okay, it doesn't hurt much".

Sirius knows this is a lie and it's not comforting in the slightest. But he allows Remus to hold
him for a little longer as a hand strokes his hair, and the voices of his mother and brother fade
into a dull murmur at the back of his mind.

He pulls back again and fixes a smile on his face. He knows it looks shaky and his face must
be red and blotchy, but he tries to be reassuring, "Sorry, I'm just glad to see you okay. God,
I'm a fucking cry baby. Let's have a look at the arm?"

Remus looks concerned, hand still held out, offering if Sirius needs to come back, but Sirius
has mostly gotten his composure back.

"It can wait", Remus indicates his arm, "Shower with me?"

There's no suggestion in the tone and Sirius doesn't need one; this is the least sexy he's ever
felt with his eyes swollen and nose still running. He nods and they go to the bathroom, Sirius
helping Remus with his jumper and shirt as he gingerly moves his arm. It doesn't look
dislocated and there's no discolouration, but the elbow is swollen. Remus assures him it'll
heal within a day or two, it always does, and Sirius nods silently. He takes the time to
examine the rest of Remus' body. He's looked worse; there are a few bite marks on his ankles
and calves where the wolf has bitten at himself, but they're already scabbing over and the
blood is dried. He looks tired, exhausted, and Sirius knows if it weren’t for his meltdown that
Remus would be asleep right now. But he doesn't have time for the guilt to consume him, as
Remus pulls him under the spray of the hot water and holds him against his right side, their
wet skin sticking together. They hold each other for a few minutes, skin heating under the
water until Sirius' back is red.

It feels good to wet his face, it’s like a reset and he starts to feel like himself again. He
reaches back and grabs some soap to lather up and washes Remus' chest, his shoulder, and
very carefully his injured arm. Remus allows it, watching with half lidded eyes, before
returning the favour, kissing him gently as he does.

Sirius feels the apology in his touch, as if any of this is his fault, and his relief at seeing
Remus alive slowly fades into calm resolve. His fingertips trace over jagged scars as they
wash each other, and Sirius mentally vows that as long as he lives, he'll search for the cure.
He can't watch this anymore, can't wait for Remus to return to him every month, injured and
limping, slowly getting worse over time until he's beyond help. He doesn't ever want to feel
this helpless again.

Even if it means breaking his promise, even if Remus hates him. He can't bear it. Remus tells
him how he would rather live with this than see Sirius hurt - Sirius would rather have him
alive and angry at him, than slowly tearing himself into pieces that he can't put back together.

—---

He comes up with a plan. It's exactly what Remus asked him not to do and there are massive,
gaping plot holes but Sirius is determined.

He has one month to gather supplies so he'll be ready for the next full moon. He starts
straight away, leaving Remus in one of his dead knock-out sleeps after the full moon, to
return to his lab. He researches tranquilisers and medicines that could be used to knock out an
approximately 18 stone werewolf. Unsurprisingly, they're all restricted substances and he'd
have to jump through hoops to get the tranquilliser, never mind the gun he'd need to use it.

He turns to less traditional methods, finally landing on rohypnol. He feels guilty about
planning to roofie his boyfriend, but reminds himself it'll be for the greater good in the long
run. And he'll be a wolf at the time, so technically he's roofying a wolf. It doesn't make him
feel better. He reconnects with his old MDMA dealer, who he'd always known dealt in the
sketchier stuff. He pays top dollar for a ridiculous amount of sedatives, having to buy extra
because he's not even sure if this will work on werewolves. How far does their magic extend?
They heal fast, so do they also metabolise differently? He has no clue but he takes the risk.
He has to.

He also starts ordering reagents and lab supplies in advance of getting the sample - they'll
need a while to arrive and some of it he has to custom order to match the virus. Overall, he's
not completely convinced of his plan, but it's all he can do without Remus' help to change the
location of the transformation. He's going to spike some meat with the rohypnol, throw it into
the basement, wait for the wolf to fall unconscious, and then sneak in to take the sample. He
decides he'll need both blood and saliva, just in case the viral load is highest in the saliva as
that's how the infection is transmitted. He only needs five minutes but he doesn't know
anything about werewolf physiology, so he's running in the dark with this.

He retracts from Remus during this time. He knows Remus can sense when something isn't
right with him, and he doesn't want to risk him finding out. He still sleeps at Remus'
apartment, but he makes sure to go back after midnight, when he's either asleep or Sirius can
say he's too tired to talk and can go to bed.

However, he can't help but cling to Remus during the night, inhaling the smell of his hair as if
it's the last night he'll ever get to. He's not completely sure how Remus will react to finding
out that he's broken his promise, but he hopes it at least happens when he's got the cure ready
to mollify him. He knows Remus has noticed him pulling away, and it pains him to see the
hurt in Remus' face when he brushes him off. He knows he blames himself, probably thinks
that he scared Sirius away on the last full moon. But he can't tell him the truth. For his own
good.

The month trickles by slowly this way. His supervisor messages him, chasing up late lab
report markings, and updates on his thesis, both of which he's forgotten about. He does a
quick, sloppy job for both and sends it back to pacify her for another month. Nothing matters
now, except finding the cure, and he just needs to keep his place at the uni long enough to use
the lab to find it.

James becomes more insistent - Sirius isn't sure if Remus has talked to him but he seems to
sense that something is happening. He comes by the lab unannounced one day, jaw clenched
and face stormy, and Sirius shrieks as he turns to see him standing behind him.

"Ah, Jamesey boy", Sirius breathes, fixing an awkward smile onto his face.

"Explain", is all James says, fists clenched at his sides.

Sirius shifts uncomfortably, holding one of the new reagents that he's just unpacked. He fixes
a grin onto his face and says with an air that implies James is just being silly, "See! Nothing
weird here, I'm just working. Which sounds weird actually, but Mcgonagall gave me a talking
to, and you know how she thins those lips and I go wild. Can't help myself, so I told her I'll
buck up and start getting shit done-".

"What a load of horseshit", James grinds out, narrowing his eyes, "I can tell when you're
lying, idiot. I've been watching you do it for almost a decade. Tell me what's really going on".

Sirius falters and he feels his face crumple as he fights the urge to blurt it all out to James, his
closest friend who has never judged, always been there, rock steady and comforting. James'
anger turns to concern at Sirius’ expression, and he steps forward, stopping just short of
grabbing him.
"Whatever it is, I've got you. You've gotten in with the mafia and now you're a big king pin's
bitch? I've got you, we'll pay em off and I'll become their lawyer on retainer".

This startles a laugh out of Sirius, and it sounds high and foreign, as he hasn't had much
reason to laugh lately.

James continues, "You've stolen hundreds of thousands worth of pipettes from uni for
whatever reason and they've caught you? I've got the best lawyer connections and I'd
represent you myself if I were any good yet".

He steps even closer, looking up at Sirius defiantly, loyalty and stubbornness in every line of
his face.

"So if it's anything less crazy than that, I'm not even worried, mate. I've got you. Just tell me
and we can work it out. Talk to me. You got problems with Remus? I know you've been
living there, every time I go by yours you're not there. Is he treating you bad? He looks like
one good right hook would take him out so if you need me to do it, I will. I like him but I’ve
got your back, fuck everyone else. Just talk to me, you big, dramatic fruitcake".

Sirius laughs weakly again, shaking his head and looking away from the piercing gaze. He
blinks hard at the bottle of reagent in his hand, thinking that what's actually happening might
be crazier than even James can imagine. For fuck's sake if he starts crying again he's going to
stick his head in Boris and let the fucker stab his eyes out.

"And you think I'm the dramatic one", he says evasively, successfully blinking back his
tears.

James frowns, and Sirius sees underneath he stubbornness, a little twist of pain in his face
and he feels his heart breaking.

"Please talk to me. We've never had a problem we couldn't solve together", James’ voice is
softer now and Sirius' breath shakes as he fights the urge to give in, just to wipe that look of
hurt from his best friend's face.

"I promise I'll tell you", he concedes quietly, not meeting his gaze, "but not now. I have to do
something first".

James runs his hands through his hair in frustration, scowling.

"The time to tell me was ages ago, Sirius. I've waited, I've given you space. Tell me what the
fuck is going on".

"I will", he pleads, "'streak the football field' promise".

It's an old saying they've had since high school. It means 'trust me, no questions asked', and
they don't use it lightly.

James stares, breathing hard. Finally, he nods sharply and looks away, still looking angry.

"Fine. You call me the second you realise you're being a fucking idiot. Day or night".
Sirius wants to hug him, spill it all onto his shoulder and tell him how grateful he is to have
him as a friend. But he nods silently, hoping James sees it in his eyes.

James stares for a moment longer and then stalks out of the lab, slamming the door behind
him as he leaves.

He takes the last chance of Sirius not following his plan with him.

The nerves don’t hit Sirius until the day of the full moon. He wakes with a start, staring up at
the ceiling, realising today’s the day that he executes his most dangerous plan ever. Remus
isn’t beside him in bed; he’s stopped trying to connect with him and figure out what’s wrong
a week ago. It’s probably for the best.

Sirius rattles around the apartment that day, antsy and irritating, until Remus starts to lose his
temper, snapping at him to take a walk as he rubs at his temples.

Sirius does, waiting around the corner from the apartment, his supplies in his bag slung over
his shoulder. He loiters and smokes until the sky darkens and the full moon glows bright in
the sky. He hears a tell tale howl, even from this distance, and he knows it’s time. Heart
thudding madly, he makes his way back to the apartment block, quietly sneaking down the
stone steps to the dimly lit corridor. He can hear the wolf growling and whining, but it
doesn’t sound close to the door and he drops to his knees to pick the lock. He loosens the
chain as quietly as he can and reaches inside his bag, grabbing the steak spiked with enough
rohypnol to get him sent to jail for a long time, if he was ever caught with it. He hesitates
with his hand on the handle, heart in his throat as he prepares himself.

Just throw it, throw it as far and as fast as you can.

He holds his breath, making sure the wolf isn’t at the door, and then pulls it open just far
enough to reach his hand in. He hurls it but at the awkward angle, he doesn’t throw it very
far. He slams the door and curses as he hears it splat on the floor close to the door. Already
this isn’t going great. But the wolf descends on it within a second, snarling and growling
renewed as it feasts. He waits, crouching outside the door, listening for the growling to stop.

It takes a long time, much longer than he calculated, taking into account the dose and
approximate weight of the wolf. He must be right about its metabolism, as it takes twice as
long as it’s supposed to for the sounds to stop and a heavy thud to shake through the floor as
the wolf collapses. He waits another five minutes, pulse racing impatiently, as he makes sure
the wolf has time to fall unconscious. He creaks open the door slowly and looks around.

The room is lit by moonlight, and right in front of the door is the werewolf. It’s slumped on
its side, eyes closed, breathing deeply, and Sirius takes a moment to examine it now that it’s
not snarling and snapping at him. It looks mostly like a wolf, although its fur is brown and
the limbs too long. The face is elongated and sharp, and there's something unnerving about it.
It’s a lot less frightening now, although Christ, it’s huge . It’s much bigger than Remus, and
he thinks that explains some of the pain of the transformation - his skin, muscles and bones
have to snap and expand so much it must be excruciating.
He steps in the room on tiptoes, but the wolf doesn’t stir and he slowly lowers himself to
kneel at its side, near the front paws, which are as big as his own hand.

He touches the paw gingerly, ready to jump back at the slightest movement, but the wolf just
continues breathing deeply. He gets his butterfly needle out of his bag and his empty sample
test tubes. He sets them up to take the blood, hands shaking so badly that he drops them
several times, cursing silently. He tries to find a vein but it’s ridiculously hard with all the
coarse fur, and the sweat starts to pour from his face as he searches the front paws, trying not
to touch too much. He distantly thinks about how stupid this is, how fucking brainless he is
for this stupid fucking plan. But finally he finds a vein and he breathes deeply, trying to clear
his mind. He prepares himself to run and then inserts the needle as smoothly as he can. The
wolf sleeps on.

He lets out a shuddering breath of relief and quickly attaches the test tubes, watching as one
by one, they sluggishly fill with dark red blood. He fills up as many as he dares; he’s already
been here longer than he planned.

He just needs a sample of the saliva now. He gets a cotton swab, and shuffles closer to the
werewolf’s head. Kneeling right in front of it he can’t help but admire the size of the head,
bigger than his own torso, and the teeth, just visible beneath the muzzle, as long as his
fingers. It really is impressive, he thinks vaguely, and dizzily thinks to tell Remus this one
day, far far in the future when this is no longer a sore topic.

He bends over and swipes the cotton swab very gently over the teeth. He needs to soak the
swab and he gingerly pushes the muzzle up with the tip, twirling it between his fingers to
collect the saliva. He breathes a sigh of relief as this still doesn’t wake the wolf. He pulls the
swab away and wipes his hand on his pants as he touches something wet and cold. He puts
the swab away in a tube in his backpack and turns back. He only has one second to register
the black nose twitching, before he looks up and glowing yellow eyes are staring at him.

He snatches his hand back and tries to leap to his feet, but the wolf moves quickly but
clumsily, lunging forward. He jumps back on his hands to avoid the snapping jaws, crying
out as pain shoots up his wrist as all his weight crunches down on his hand. The wolf sways,
trying to get to its feet, but its eyes aren’t focused and its legs shake under his weight. Cold
seeps into Sirius’ limbs, freezing him to the spot, as the wolf’s eyes roll, trying to focus on
him, teeth bared and growl low, like a rumble of thunder rolling through his body. He starts to
shuffle backwards, moving slowly, hoping the wolf can’t see him clearly through the drugs.
This seems to work, but the wolf is sniffing deeply now, nose twitching, and it smells his fear
and sweat. It stumbles forward on unsteady legs, jaws snapping in Sirius’ direction. He takes
one shuddering breath and then makes a break for it, jumping to his feet and leaping towards
the open door. It’s not far but the wolf leaps at the same time, giant paws knocking his feet
out from under him. He yells in shock, falling to the floor heavily, his breath knocked out of
him. He’s lucky the wolf is still under the effects of the drugs, as its aim isn’t good and it
stumbles off to the side, shaking its head at the dizziness. But now they’re both right in front
of the door and Sirius knows he’s outpaced, even if the werewolf is drugged. It’s faster,
stronger, and he knows if he makes a run for the door, it just has to take one step forward and
swipe at him. He grits his teeth and decides to chance it anyway, struggling to his feet as it
turns back towards him, zeroing in on his scent again.
Christ. The last thing he’s ever going to see is those luminous yellow eyes, and he wishes
desperately that he would have said a proper goodbye to Remus, the real Remus. Then
something grabs his uninjured wrist and yanks hard, and he’s stumbling through the door
with a yell, falling to his knees just outside the room. He hears the door slam behind him and
the wolf’s enraged howl as it crashes into the steel. He twists and squints in the low light to
see who the dark figure is, their back to him as they loop the chains through the handle and
lock the padlock. As the figure straightens, he sees the dark hair sticking up in every direction
and he lets out a cry of relief.

James drops to his knees at his side, checking him over frantically, brown eyes wide behind
the glasses and lips far too pale. His hands are shaking, but not as bad as Sirius’ are, and he
grabs him by the shoulders, shaking him slightly as Sirius babbles incoherently.

“We have to go !”

Sirius doesn’t argue - the door has stopped thudding but the growl from behind the steel is
blood curdling, as if the wolf is furious knowing they’re both still there. They race up the
stairs, throwing the door closed behind them, and Sirius leads James up to the apartment,
fingers fumbling with the keys for long moments before they fall through the door and Sirius
slams it shut.

He slides to the ground, his back against the door, hiding his face in shaking hands. That was
so close, so fucking close, if James hadn’t appeared he would be dead, probably eaten, and
Remus… oh god, Remus would have been beside himself when he found out he'd been the
one to do it. Fuck.

James is saying something but Sirius’ inner monologue is swirling in his head and his breath
is too fast, heart feeling like it’s about to burst from his chest.

Stupid, so stupid, what was I thinking?

He starts as James shakes him by the shoulders, face inches from his own.

“Sirius! Slow down, what-what? That thing was Remus? What are you talking about?”

Sirius gasps in air, shutting his eyes tight. That inner monologue wasn’t inner after all. He
shakes his head, trying to calm his breathing and heartbeat, and James takes pity on him for a
moment, holding his arms firmly and waiting for him to calm down.

He takes a shuddering breath and looks desperately into his best friend’s face, all his boyish
charm gone, looking severe and deathly pale.

“It’s Remus. I wasn’t supposed to say, I fucked up, James. I fucked up so bad, the worst. I’m
so sorry-”, he breaks off, hiding his face in his hands again.

James’ grip tightens and his voice shakes, “That thing is Remus? I don’t-what-”

“He’s a werewolf”, Sirius snaps, furious with himself, “he stays down there on the full moon
and no one knows. But I found out and I wanted to help him, I thought I got the dose right
but his wolf metabolism must be fucked because it didn’t even last five minutes. Fuck, I’m so
stupid”.

“No you’re not”, James says automatically, and Sirius can see him thinking quickly. “So…
that’s a werewolf. And this is what you’ve been hiding all this time?”

Sirius nods frantically, gripping the front of James’ shirt, pleading, “You can’t tell anyone, no
one can know. I wasn’t supposed to tell you, but I fucked up, he trusted me and I fucked it
up”.

James stares at him, face unreadable, before he slowly nods and Sirius sags back against the
door in relief. Something clinks behind him and he looks down to see his bag still hanging off
his shoulder. He absently reaches in and pulls out some test tubes, and they both stare at
them, intact and filled with dark red blood.

James looks up at his face sharply, “Are you fucking kidding? You were taking its blood?!
You almost killed yourself for that?”

Sirius stares down at the blood, hand still shaking, but he feels relieved when he closes his
fist over the samples. Guilt crawls over him in waves but at least this wasn’t all for nothing.
James is shaking his head at him, and he pushes his glasses up his sweaty nose, as he slowly
gets to his feet. He pulls Sirius up with a grunt, and holds him steady as he sways. Sirius
vaguely registers the pain in his wrist and holds it to his chest. James leads him to the couch
and sits him down, bending to stare at his face in worry.

“M’fine”, Sirius mumbles.

“No, you’re not”, James replies, “But you will be. I’m going to make tea and then you’re
going to tell me everything”.

Sirius opens his mouth to protest but James quells him with a ferocious look that reminds him
so strongly of Mrs Potter that he quiets.

He hears James tinkering around in the kitchen and he stares into space, heart finally calming
and sweat cooling on his body, making him shiver.

For the first time, he sees what Remus does. He sees how bloodthirsty the wolf is and how
deeply terrifying it is. Anyone would think it a monster. But the eyes still remind him of
Remus, and he feels guilt curdling his stomach as a faint howl comes from below. The wolf
seems to be quieting though, the drugs working again now that the stimulation of humans has
left, and he’s grateful that Remus isn’t tearing himself apart again.

He doesn’t even register James’ return, until a hot cup is pushed into his hands. He stares
down at it, the tea just the right colour that he likes. He looks up as James sits sideways on
the couch to face him.

“Thank you”.
James’ eyebrows are drawn together, but he looks a little less pale, and he nods in
acknowledgement.

Sirius begins to talk, now that James knows, there’s no reason to hold back, and it’s honestly
such a relief to let it all out to the person he trusts most.

James listens with a furrowed brow and mouth set in a grim line. He doesn’t interrupt like he
usually would, and Sirius vaguely thinks that he must be seeing a bit of lawyer James;
analytical and cunning, taking in all the facts to draw his conclusions. He looks older, and
Sirius wonders if he’s aged years tonight too.

He finally finishes, explaining his plan to take the blood, and trails off lamely as James
narrows his eyes at his feeble explanation.

“Sirius, that’s…”, James rubs his forehead, closing his eyes as if pained, “Okay, I take back
what I said, that part is stupid”.

“I know”, Sirius admits glumly, “I just didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t watch it
anymore, the full moon fucks him up so badly, it hurts him. I just couldn’t”.

James nods, staring off into the distance and the apartment is silent for a few minutes.

It’s broken by James’ low murmur, “You have to tell him”.

Sirius’ eyes snap up, wide and terrified.

“I can’t”, he whispers, “he’ll hate me”.

James looks at him sternly but there’s sympathy in his grimace. “He might. For a while. But
you can’t hide this from him.”

Sirius curls in on himself. He knows James is right, but it doesn’t make it easier.
“From what you’ve told me”, James continues kindly, “he loves you. Really loves you. He’ll
understand why you did it, eventually”.

Sirius closes his eyes tightly and shakes his head. “I promised, I looked him right in the eye
and promised I wouldn’t”.

James nods grimly, pausing before adding quietly, “I’d have done the same for Lily.”

“Really?” Sirius asks hopefully, even though he knows it’s true, he’s seen how much James
adores Lily. But it makes him feel better to hear that he’s not the only one who would do
something stupid for the person he loves.

“Maybe not your plan, exactly”, James clarifies, a ghost of a smirk on his face, “but yeah. I’d
do anything for her - I get it. Remus will too”.

Sirius nods, a small bud of hope blooming in his chest. He wishes he’d had James by his side
through this whole thing - he’s always tempered him and evened out his more outrageous
ideas. But he’s grateful he’s here now.
Neither make to lie down or sleep, and Sirius is glad for the company as James stays by his
side on the couch for the rest of the night. They end up shoulder to shoulder, heads resting
against each other, half dozing, when a key turns in the lock. They jump, sitting upright,
Sirius sloshing cold tea on himself and James hastily fixing his glasses.

Remus comes in slowly, dragging his feet, and freezes at seeing both of them.

Sirius can see him thinking quickly, eyes darting between them, and his heart is thudding
again, almost as nervous as looking at the wolf.

“Hello, James”, Remus says carefully, snapping the door shut behind him, his face closed and
neutral.

Sirius gets to his feet, stumbling a little, and makes to rush forward but stops at the stiffness
in Remus’ shoulders. He already knows.

Sirius wipes his hands on his jeans nervously and winces as it sends pain shooting through
his wrist again. Remus’ eyes narrow and sweep Sirius’ body.

“I’m fine, no one got hurt”, he begins, voice shaking slightly. This appears to be the wrong
thing to say. Remus’ jaw clenches and his voice is dangerously calm when he says, “What
happened?”

Sirius dredges up courage from deep inside his chest and takes a deep breath. “I did
something stupid. I know it, but I was trying to help. I just wanted to get samples, and I
thought I calculated the sedative dose right, but I didn’t account for the werewolf
metabolism. You woke up but it’s okay, James was there and he pulled me out in time. It’s
fine, he’s fine, he’s not going to say anything”.

Remus’ eyes tear away from his face and dart to James. Sirius doesn’t look away from his
face but he hears James agree behind him, “I’m sorry I found out this way, Remus. But we’re
good, your secret is safe”.

Remus is silent for a few moments before he nods jerkily at James, voice icy as he says,
“Thank you. I’m sorry you had to see me like that”.

James stands and pats Sirius on the shoulder, murmuring, “I should go. Just wanted to make
sure you’re okay. Come by mine, okay, Sirius?”

Sirius nods, grateful that James will be there for him after… after whatever this is going to
be. Remus doesn’t look at him, staring hard at the floor until James leaves.

Sirius fidgets in the silence, which presses heavily against him on all sides. Unable to take it
anymore, he bursts out, “I’m sorry! I really am, but I couldn’t watch you go through that
anymore. It was torture knowing I could help but I was choosing not to. I know you’re angry,
but I just wanted to help and I knew you’d never change your mind. But I did it, it’s done
now, and no one got hurt, no harm done”.
Remus listens silently, but at the last line, he raises his eyebrows and repeats quietly, “No
harm done?”

Sirius bites his lip. He almost wishes he had another round with the wolf, rather than this
‘calm before the storm’, Remus.

“Is that what you think, Sirius?” Remus bites out, and Sirius flinches. It’s a trick question and
he doesn’t respond, waiting for the storm to break.

“You broke my trust”, Remus states coldly, eyes boring into Sirius’ face, “I told you why I
didn’t want you there, and you broke your promise. All my life I’ve hidden what I am. I’ve
gone seventeen years without anyone finding out. And a few months after you find out,
you’ve put yourself and James in danger, exposing me. You could have been killed, I could
have killed you or James. And it would be my fault. Sirius, you had no right”.

Sirius shakes his head, although he knows he has no case.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like that”, he protests, trying to keep the pleading out of his
voice and failing.

“I trusted you!” Remus snaps, voice cracking like a whip in the quiet apartment.

Sirius grits his teeth, relieved that Remus is yelling now. He’s back in familiar territory -
being yelled at is far less terrifying than quiet, cold disappointment.

“I’m not saying what I did was right”, he retorts, his own voice rising, “but you can’t expect
me to stand by and watch you go through this every month without doing something, when
you know I can.”

“Really? Because it sounds like you’re arguing that you ultimately did the right thing”,
Remus says bitterly.

“No-that’s not. Look ”, Sirius snarls, temper crackling, “you said you would do anything to
not hurt me or lose me. Well why do you think I’m doing any of this? Don’t you think I feel
the same?”

“You walked into this knowing that’s part of me, I told you that’s what it would be like. You
had a choice”, Remus retorts, hands balling into fists.

“Some fucking choice! Lose you forever or stand by and watch you die. But I found a way to
help! I can cure you! If you’d just accept help for once in your life-”

“Stop, Sirius! There’s no arguing your way out of this”, Remus retorts, eyes flashing angrily.

The glint of gold gives him pause, and he quiets.

Remus shakes his head and there’s a flash of hurt in his expression that Sirius almost misses,
before he says, voice shaking slightly, “What’s done is done. You had your reasons, but I
can’t trust you anymore. I can’t wake up after every full moon wondering if I’m going to find
you dead, that I’ve… You have to go”.
Ice has replaced the blood in his veins and he’s drowning. He shakes his head dumbly but
Remus’ face is set, and although it’s twisted in pain, there’s no room for argument in his
eyes.

“Remus, you can’t-”

“I meant what I said - if this is what it takes to keep you safe then- ”, Remus swallows and it
looks like he’s forcing the words out, “I don’t want to see you anymore”.

Sirius steps forward, hands reaching, but Remus steps back and stiffens.

“Please go”.

Sirius’ hands close on air. There’s lead in his chest, and his arms feel heavy. They drop back
to his side. Numbness spreads but he can still speak.

“You’re an idiot”, he says, hating the way his voice shakes, hating the way Remus won’t look
at him, “you keep saying this is all about not wanting to hurt me, but this is so much worse
than anything the wolf could do. All that stuff you said about searching for me and forgiving
the world - you’re a fucking liar. You’re doing this for yourself. You think this means you
won’t have to live with losing me but every month I’ll lie awake and wonder if this will be
the one where I lose you, and it hurts, you fucking bastard. It hurts so fucking much-”. He
takes a shaky breath as his voice threatens to break. His fists clench, and it gives him strength
to continue, “And you’re not even trying - it doesn’t have to be this way. You’re so wrapped
up in your own misery that you push everyone away, because no one will ever understand, no
one could ever love such a monster. Well I did! I do! Fucking look at me! ”

His shout rings through the early morning air and it reverbates back at him, an ugly, twisted
plea.

Remus continues to stare at a point behind Sirius’ shoulder and the look of pain in his face
does nothing to soothe his fury. He breathes heavily, anger thudding in his ears, and it’s the
only sound in the apartment for a long minute. He waits, he hopes for something - anything.
It doesn’t come.

“Fine”, Sirius says, his eruption of anger cooling hard and heavy in his chest, and his voice
comes out hollow, “You’ve got what you want. I won’t bother you anymore”.

Remus’ face twists but he stays silent and in that moment Sirius hates him. He wants to curse
at him, shake him, make him react, anything, anything except this nothingness that feels like
he doesn’t care that he’s hurting.

Shaking, wrecked, he turns on his heel. And still. And still, he wants to turn back, still he
loves him.

He feels oddly numb as he walks to the door. He pauses, breathing in the smell of the
apartment. Their apartment. Is this the last time? It smells like home.

He leaves.
Chapter End Notes

Bach: Welsh for 'little one', friendly term of endearment.

Something I think Remus' mother and father probably call him.
 Chapter 6
Chapter Notes

Short chapter this time.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

He goes to James' place. It's the closest thing to home besides Remus' apartment, and he can't
bear the thought of his own, sat empty and cold for weeks.

He lasts five minutes telling James about the fight before he cries. He tries to hide his face
and turn away because fuck, is this all he does anymore? But James grabs him roughly and
wraps his arms around his shoulders, pressing Sirius’ face into his neck. He smells like their
childhood. Sirius cries harder.

He hurts. He hurts for himself, for Remus; something tears in his chest at the thought of
Remus alone, in pain every month, and it's all his fault because he can't be there to help
anymore. It would have been easier if Remus had screamed at him, told him they never
mattered, he never loved him. But he knows it did, and that he does. And that pulls at him,
tugging him back to Remus and his home, like he can just return after one of their little
arguments. But he can't and it feels like losing everything that's ever mattered. Love has felt
soft and warm in his body the past few months, but now it’s sharp, it tears and bruises, it's
harsh and unforgiving, and he wishes he could cut it from his body.

He cries until there's nothing left. And James lets him.

He stays at James' place for a few days. He doesn't plan to, he just doesn't end up leaving
once he curls up on the couch. James takes a day off work to be with him, but Sirius doesn't
feel like talking, and James sits beside him in silence, tapping out some work on his laptop
and throwing worried glances his way.

He only stirs enough to put the blood samples in the fridge, to keep them stable. James finds
them when he reaches for milk for his morning coffee and shrieks bloody murder. Sirius
vaguely thinks that he sounds like Mrs Potter, hollering about someone putting an empty milk
carton back in the fridge. He feels a sudden yearning to see her. She's been the mother he
never had, hands gentle and full of love even when she's angry. But he inevitably thinks of
his own mother when he sees her, because he can't help making comparisons, and he knows
he'll spiral if he does.

Because this feels like he’s proved his mother right, maybe she's always been right about
him. He was never enough, everything about him that makes him who he is, is wrong, and he
always ends up hurting people. And who are you supposed to believe as a child, if not your
mother? He spent his youngest years trying to reign in his wildness, his impulsiveness,
compressing himself down into something small and palatable. But it was never enough, he
was still too… everything. Even his earliest attempts at love were wrong - all the gifts that
primary schools force children to make for their parents, the clumsy but well meaning
paintings, clay moulds, and ugly jewellery - any that entered the Black house ended up in the
bin within minutes of her seeing them, nose wrinkled in disdain and a reprimand ready for
him not concentrating on other classes. Eventually he stopped trying, because nothing he did
was right, so why try. Their interactions always ended up in screaming matches, and it always
ended with Sirius ruining everything, the eternal Black fuck up, the stain on their bloodline.
He ruins everything he touches. Unloved, unlovable, even for his own mother.

This feels like the confirmation he’s been running from all his life, in shallow, fleeting
relationships so no one could ever get to know the real him, the broken, damaged goods.
Unlovable. But Remus had loved him, had loved him so deeply, and he'd sabotaged it. And
maybe he doesn’t love him anymore. He fucked it up, impulsive and reckless as he’s always
been. Maybe that is all he can be.

This plays in his head on repeat and after two days of making a permanent bevel in James'
couch, Sirius takes the samples and leaves for the lab. He needs to get out of his head, but his
mother's voice still trails behind him, and if he stops for too long, it whispers in his ear.

He throws himself into analysing the blood. It was never an option not to. James had asked
why he kept it and Sirius had just looked at him blankly. Of course he's still going to search
for the cure. Of course. Remus doesn't want to see him anymore but he can’t live in a world
where Remus is in pain. It feels like he's finally found his purpose. He's broken, but the
emptiness he's always felt has been filled with a driving need. He only sleeps and eats to
function at the bare minimum. He goes to sleep thinking about finding the cure, and wakes,
renewed with fervour to find it. Nothing else matters.

He works tirelessly. He replicates the virus RNA and feels grimly satisfied that he was right -
the blood is teaming with the virus. He's able to view it under a powerful microscope and it
looks ferocious, even in cellular form. He spends months learning about its morphology.
Usually it would take a team of researchers to completely categorise a new virus, so he
spends all of his days and much of the nights in the lab. He ends up using his own money for
many of the reagents and supplies he needs. They're incredibly expensive and he knows it
would raise red flags with the department if one Honours student starts spending thousands.
It's a no brainer - he empties his savings. The thought of travelling the world seems dim
compared to Remus’ light anyway.

He works tirelessly. He misses him.

He misses him in ways he doesn't even realise, until his phone is in his hand, about to
complain to Remus about his day, when he comes to his senses. He thinks of him when he
catches sight of his own reflection, which is always scowling these days. He feels the ghost
of gentle hands cupping his face, smoothing his frown away and soft kisses bringing him out
of his dark moods so he doesn't spiral. He thinks about him when he smokes, and the
satisfaction he used to get from smoking is dulled by the ache of remembering. Everything in
his life has been touched by Remus, every train of thought ends up back at him, and he greets
the memories with a miserable fondness, always knowing he's going to end up here again,
and horribly glad for it because it means he still gets to see him in some way.

Lily comes by, one morning. He's surprised to see her but he doesn't stop working. She
follows him around the lab, arms folded and lips pursed, looking terribly concerned. She
haltingly tells him that she knows about Remus, that James convinced him to tell her.

Sirius feels a pang of anger at that but he doesn't say anything.

So now it's okay to tell Lily? Not when he could have used the help?

She hovers at his elbow, hesitating at his furious silence, before asking to read his notes. He
nods jerkily.

She sits at his laptop and reads. It takes her the whole day to get through everything he's
discovered. He continues working and doesn't interrupt, although he aches to ask about
Remus, how he's doing. He feels the words in his throat and he doesn't speak in case they
come tumbling out.

Eventually she finishes, looking tired and overwhelmed.

"So?" It's the first time he speaks to her and his voice is croaky with disuse.

She gives him a peculiar look, saying thoughtfully, "It's very thorough".

"Thanks, but I meant your professional opinion".

"You're absolutely right, it is a new virus. This is huge".

Sirius waves his hand impatiently, "I know that already - the viral markers, what does it
sound like to you?"

"Well… it sounds like it attacks the immune system. And it causes inflammation. Which
would explain why he's sick all the time".

Sirius nods.

"It has some similarities with retroviruses", she tilts her head at one of the graphs, "it looks
like it has some of the same surface membrane proteins. That's promising".

He nods eagerly now, stepping closer, because she's confirming what he's been thinking.

She points at the name of one of the bars on the graph, a jumble of letters and numbers, "This
is common across quite a few viruses. It's the target of a lot of antivirals and it looks like it's
present in this one too. This could be a good place to start".

He could kiss her right now. She isn't saying anything he hasn't already thought, but he's not
alone now. He reaches out awkwardly and squeezes her shoulder, hoping she understands.
She looks up at him, closer now, and her pretty green eyes search his face.

"You look worse than Remus".

"Is he… ?"

"He's okay", she grimaces, "but he's been better".

He nods. A block of ice slides into his stomach. He wonders when he'll be able to hear his
name without flinching.

"He told me, a little. About what happened", Lily says haltingly.

Sirius removes his hand.

"I don't need to hear it, Lily", he replies tiredly, "I already hate myself enough without you
lecturing me".

"I told him he's an idiot".

Sirius stares blankly. "What?"

She nods grimly, "I don't agree with going back on your word. But I get why. I'd do the same
for James. I mean, something safer. But I'd do something".

Sirius feels his heart twist painfully. It's almost the exact words James had used, parroted
back by the love of his life and it fills Sirius with a nauseating mix of envy and gratitude that
his friends have found this in each other.

She continues, oblivious to his turmoil. "He's just trying to protect you but he needs to see
that you're only trying to do the same. It's like he thinks he's not worth saving or something",
her hands clench as if she's imagining shaking sense into Remus, and her voice cracks.

Sirius sinks into the chair next to her, feeling a little light-headed. Probably from not eating
and sleeping properly, but also from shock at finding an ally in the person he expected it from
the least.

"He's like that", he murmurs numbly.

She nods, fiddling with the cord of his laptop as she thinks. He feels her eyeing him as she
ventures carefully, “What are you going to do now?”

Sirius stares at the bar in the graph that she had pointed at. “Try the antiviral, see if it works.
If it doesn’t, I'll keep trying until I find one that does. I’ll make one if I have to”.

Lily studies his face.

Sirius looks away and stares at a pile of papers on the bench, results of dozens of tests,
physical evidence of how many hours he spends thinking about Remus.
"You know, I didn't get you guys at first", she says quietly, "You're so different. But Remus
has changed since meeting you; he's… happier, less bitter. But I think he's spent so long
telling himself that he can't be loved, that he's a monster, that he can't understand why you
risked your life for him. He thinks you weren’t thinking, you were just being reckless, and
I'm the first person to call you reckless, believe me. But I see it now, at the hospital. People
bargain, they cry, beg, atheists pray. Anything goes when the person you love is in pain. What
you did wasn't right exactly, but it wasn't wrong".

The silence is deafening when she finishes speaking and Sirius stares hard at the stack of
papers. He jerks, making to grab her hand but hesitates, pulling back. She stops him before he
can retreat, engulfing his hand in both of hers. She's cold, it's like sticking his hand in a pile
of snow, but he grips back tightly, grateful.

“It doesn’t change anything though”, he says so quietly that it’s almost a whisper, still staring
at his notes, “he still doesn’t see it. He doesn’t trust me anymore”.

“He will”, she says firmly, as if she can will it to be, just by being her strict, stubborn self.

He doesn’t answer. She squeezes his hand encouragingly and gets to her feet.

"I can get whatever antivirals you need", she says briskly, "just let me know which ones, and
send me a copy of what you've got so far".

He starts, surprised.

"You can get them? But aren't they all prescription?"

"I can get them", she insists, giving him a hard look as if he's going to protest at her breaking
the rules.

He nods without argument, and she gives him a pat on the shoulder, turning to leave. A
flowery smell is left behind in her wake, and the lab seems brighter for her having been
there.

He stares after her for a long time. Then he texts James.

Your girlfriend came by. She's pretty alright.

Took you long enough.

Sometimes I look at her and it's like nothing else matters. Scary stuff .

Sirius half smiles ruefully, and he’s suddenly back in the apartment, early morning light
streaming through the curtains, and Remus stirs beside him in the bed. He frowns so deeply
when he’s pulled out of sleep, until he sees Sirius. And then he smiles and Sirius thinks the
sun could take a day off, that this is all he’d ever need to start his day, the way his smile lights
 up the room - open, soft, bright. He remembers how it feels to be someone's first happiness of
the day; like stepping into the sunlight, warming deeper than his skin.

Yeah, I know what you mean

Chapter End Notes

Love you guys.

 Chapter 7
Chapter Notes

This chapter is Remus' POV.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Bold is Sirius

Italic is James

-----

Remus squints in the harsh morning light, head pounding in time with his heartbeat. He’s
shivering, although he’s far too hot, and his sweat has soaked the sheets during the night. It’s
like this sometimes, the days before and after the moon. Particularly these days.

He doesn’t even make it off the bed this time - he hurls himself over the side of the mattress
and vomits on the floor. He feels the wound on his thigh reopen as he curls into himself,
retching, and he numbly registers the warm blood seeping through his pyjamas.

Yesterday’s full moon was bad. It’s never good. But this one was bad .

The wolf had torn into itself with a ferocity that he’s rarely seen before. The smaller bites and
scratches are already healing, but there are a few deep ones that he knows will take a couple
of days, and the worst one on his thigh tore so deep into the muscle that he passed out several
times before Cuthrow found him, rough features crumpled in worry. He’d patched him up as
much as he could - they both know the hospital isn’t an option. It’ll heal, he thinks, if it’s not
infected, but it will take a while and the scar will be deep.

Not that it matters.

He stumbles out of bed, leaning on furniture and door frames for support before collapsing on
the bathroom floor. He reaches into the cupboard under the sink and brings out the gauze. If
he bought stock in gauze he’d be a millionaire at this point. He cleans the wound on his leg,
grimacing, and rebandages it carelessly, not bothering to pull it tight. It doesn’t really matter.

He rests his pounding head back against the cool glass of the shower. Not for the first time,
he wishes he could communicate with the wolf. Most of the time he wants to scream at it, but
today he wants to ask why. He thinks he knows the answer already, but he can’t quite believe
it. The only thing that changed was Sirius leaving. But the wolf doesn’t have emotions, it
isn’t human, doesn’t love or feel like he does. So why is it so angry? Or is it hurt?

He hurls the leftover gauze across the room. It aggravates an ache in his back but he doesn’t
care. He seethes - boo-fucking-hoo the wolf is angry, it’s sad. Who gives a fuck. It tears into
him every month and leaves him closer to death each time. Should he feel sorry that it’s
somehow upset at Sirius leaving? It’s the fucking reason that Sirius left.

He covers his face in his hands.

No, it isn’t. I am.

He’s the reason Sirius is gone. He’s the one who let him in in the first place, allowed them
both to believe they could be something. It’s his fault. If he had just controlled himself then
maybe at least Sirius would be his friend, nothing more, but he would still be able to see him.
Surely, that would be better than missing him so deeply that it’s a physical ache in his
stomach, like a hunger he can never satiate. Or maybe it would be the same. He can’t imagine
knowing Sirius and not loving him, not wanting to run his fingers through his hair or see him
smile. There’s a look that Sirius used to give him sometimes, when he thought he wasn’t
looking - his face soft, openly hopeful and devoted, and so very un-Sirius-like that he thinks
he must be one of the few people on earth to have ever seen it. The image lives in a vault,
deep in his memories, where he returns to it when he doubts if Sirius ever really loved him.
It’s his answer, and it isn’t comforting exactly, but he cherishes it anyway. It's better this way;
Sirius is alive and he might be upset, but he's safe. He's safe. That's all that matters. And
telling himself this works. Most of the time.

In the darkest hours of night when he reaches for him in a half-awake haze and finds only
cool, empty sheets, his resolve that he's done the right thing in pushing him away feels feeble.
It doesn't feel right. Not in those moments where he lies with his hand outstretched in the
empty and stares at the ceiling.

God, he’s fucking pathetic.

He hears the front door open and close and looks up out of his inner monologue, dazed. It
must be Lily. She had taken his key before the full moon, ignoring his protests, and insisted
she would be back after to see how he’s doing.

He pointlessly tries to straighten himself, pulling at the badly wrapped gauze to hide the
worst of his injuries, and wipes his eyes with the back of his sleeve.

He calls out a croaky greeting and hears her approach, opening the bathroom door slowly. He
hears her soft gasp before he sees her, and he flinches. He already knows what he looks like,
he doesn’t need to see it in her face. She pauses at the doorway but it only takes her a
moment to get over the initial shock, and she crouches beside him quickly. Her hands are
steady and gentle when they touch his arm.

“What’s the worst one?” she asks softly.

He indicates his leg and she nods, mouth set in a grim line as she lifts the bandage to look at
it. He knows what she’s going to say before she opens her mouth.

“No hospital”.

He sees irritation flicker through her face before she hides it by leaning in to examine it more
closely.

“There’s not much more I can do without going to a hospital”, she says sternly.

“I didn’t tell you about my condition as Doctor Evans, I told Lily, as a friend. Please.” he
replies softly, hoping she hears the earnestness in his tone.

She relents, nodding curtly, and digs in her bag. She presses pills into his hand (“antibiotics,
painkillers, anti-inflammatories, vitamins because I know you’re not eating properly”), and
applies surgical glue carefully to the jagged tears. They’re both silent as she works, and he
takes the time to admire how steady her hands are and how focused she is. Doctor Evans
indeed. Something pulls in his chest and he tries not to think about if he’ll live through
enough full moons to see her graduate.

She straightens, examining her work with a critical eye and he smiles weakly at her look of
satisfaction.

“How’m I doing, Doctor?”

“Terrible. Worst patient I’ve ever had”, she replies briskly, “Incurable case of stubborn idiot”.

He nods, smiling for the first time in a while. “Ah, it’s terminal then. Shame”.

She doesn’t return his smile or respond. She’s on her feet in a flash, and she holds his elbows
firmly, bracing herself to lift him. He does his best to help her but putting the slightest weight
on his bad leg makes it shake terribly, and his other leg feels almost as weak. She’s stronger
than she looks though, and she holds him steady as he sways, even though he’s a good head
and a half taller than her. He dizzily pats the top of her head, wondering when she got so tiny,
and she smacks his hand away, muttering something about blood loss. He leans on her
shoulder as she supports him back to bed. She doesn’t mention the vomit on the floor, and
he’s grateful.

She lowers him back into bed slowly and he tries not to react when they both lift his bad leg
back onto the bed. He has to take a few deep breaths once he’s lying back on the bed, willing
the dizzy to leave. She wordlessly lifts his good leg into the air so his blood rushes back into
his head and he blinks the stars away.

Jesus, this is miserable.

He loves her and her kindness makes his chest ache. But this can’t be how it’s going to be
forever. He can’t do this anymore. At least before, he could mostly take care of his own
injuries. But he can’t keep going if he’s going to nearly kill himself each full moon, relying
on Lily to patch him back together like the world’s most pathetic ragdoll. He can’t see her
face pinched with worry like this all the time, all the bright, quick wit gone as she takes care
of her slowly dying friend. He knows she’s neglecting her studies to help him this morning
and the guilt makes his stomach twist and gurgle again.

She appears at his side again, but he doesn’t look at her face.

“The meds will start working soon. But I need you to eat”.

He nods even though he doesn’t know how he’ll stomach anything. Her cold hand brushes
his cheek briefly and then she’s sweeping out of the room, long red hair waving behind her.

He closes his eyes, and he doesn’t know if it’s just because she’s here, but he feels a tiny bit
better. Physically at least. His head hurts a little less and now that he’s still, his leg only
throbs dully. He hears her moving around in the kitchen, dull thunks of cupboards closing,
clinking of plates, and a muffled voice as she talks to herself while she prepares something.
She’s back sooner than he expects and he frowns at the peculiar look on her face.

She picks at a nail worriedly as she hesitates at the doorway. “Um, someone’s here to see
you”.

He raises his head off the pillow and frowns in confusion. Cuthrow? But he knows Lily is
coming so there’s no need to check in. If it was James he’d just come in and join Lily.

The uneasy restlessness in her fidgeting suddenly gives him the answer. He shakes his head
emphatically, even though it makes his head pound.

“I can’t see him”.

Not like this , he finishes in his head. She crosses her arms and looks away, out the window,
where sunlight streams through, bathing the bed in light.

“You need to talk”, she says simply, sternly, and although he desperately wants to argue, it’s
not like he can walk away right now. He frowns at her but she just turns on the spot and
marches out. He hears the front door open and shut and two pairs of footsteps approach. In a
last ditch effort to preserve his dignity, he throws the blanket over himself, covering most of
the bandages, and struggles into a sitting position.

He only has a few seconds to prepare himself to see Sirius, when he resolved just a few
months ago that he would never see him again. It’s jarring, it’s rushed, he doesn’t know what
to say. What more is there to say? But all the time in the world couldn’t prepare him for the
man that stands fidgeting in the doorway of the bedroom.

Sirius looks awful. His hair is longer and unstyled, hanging limp and dull around his face. He
looks thinner, almost gaunt, and his eyes look slightly sunken in his pale face as if he’s lost
weight too quickly. The look of anguish on his face looks out of place, and it’s almost like
looking at a different person. Remus feels his heart crumble.

The feeling appears to be mutual, as Sirius stares wide eyed and horrified. Remus almost
doesn’t see Lily, who stands in the doorway at his elbow, looking between them worriedly.
“I’ll bring some food. One minute”, she mutters and scuttles away.

They continue to stare dumbly at each other for a few seconds before Remus looks away,
towards the bathroom door. There’s a smudge of blood on the handle.

“What are you doing here, Sirius?” he says quietly and it comes out tired and defeated.

The last time he saw him, Sirius had raged at him, face twisted in fury and hurt. And god,
Remus couldn’t look at the hurt in his face. He’d never wanted to hurt him. But that’s all he
can offer, so he stayed silent so he would finally give up on him and leave - it was the only
way to protect him.

Sirius is twisting his hands and he shifts his feet uneasily before suddenly pulling his
shoulders back and curling his hands into fists, as if he’s found some spark of the old Sirius
hidden underneath the exhaustion.

“I found something”.

Remus glances at him, despite himself. The sharp features are narrowed in resolve and he
looks like Sirius again, stubborn and direct.

He walks to the end of the bed and reaches into his bag, slung over his shoulder. While he’s
turned, Remus takes the chance to drink in the sight of him, bathed in sunlight.

He’s still beautiful, he could never be anything else.

The morning light highlights the dark shadows under his eyes, but the glow reminds Remus
of how warm his skin felt under his hands, underneath the rough scrape of stubble in the
morning, and how his expression always softened so sweetly whenever he cupped his face in
his hands.

Sirius looks up and Remus quickly glances down to see he’s holding something in his hand.
It’s a small white medicine bottle that rattles, filled with pills, and a smaller bottle filled with
clear liquid. Sirius walks around the side of the bed that’s unoccupied - Remus' mind
unhelpfully still thinks of it as Sirius' side of the bed - and the mattress dips where he sits in
an odd sprawl.

His voice is carefully controlled when he says, “It’s not the cure. And it’s just a trial. But I
think it really could be something”.

Remus freezes.

The cure? A trial? He’s still looking for the cure.

“You’re still… “ the words come out almost of their own volition, his lips numb.

Sirius’ face hardens and he nods. He holds the pill bottle out for Remus to take.

“I’ve gotten it to this stage, but I can’t do any more without testing it. And you’re the only
test subject I know of. These are antivirals - I’ve matched the surface proteins to the active
ingredients. I made some tweaks but they should theoretically reduce the viral load during the
full moon so the effects should be less. But I don’t know what that will look like”.

The bottle is small but solid in Remus’ hand. He grips it tightly.

Sirius continues, voice still strangely toneless, “I also brought some glucocorticoids with
some general anti-inflammatories”, he holds up the tiny bottle of liquid and it glints in the
sunlight, “Lily helped me make it. It should improve the integrity of your blood brain barrier.
Over time, and depending if the antivirals work, I think it’ll stop the virus from entering your
central nervous system. I can’t be completely sure without invasive procedures, but I think
eventually you’ll be able to keep your mind during your transformations. I have no idea what
the transformations will look like because I’ve run out of money to create a perfectly matched
antiviral, so it’s not what I promised. But it’s a start”.

Sirius rolls the bottle between his fingers, looking down. “I know this isn’t perfect. I didn’t
want to come back without the cure. But I can’t exactly do clinical trials without you.
Clinical trial of one sample size, anyway”.

Remus finally finds his voice, and he doesn’t care that it comes out croaky and hoarse,
doesn’t care that it shakes, “I never expected you to keep looking. Sirius, I never thought…
you didn’t have to do any of this. You were supposed to forget about me”.

The first spark of emotion crosses Sirius’ face and it’s anger. It brings his eyes to life. Remus
stares helplessly.
“You thought I could just forget?” he snarls, chuckling mirthlessly, “Christ but you’re still a
fucking prick”.

“This is what you’ve been doing this whole time?” Remus can’t keep the alarm out of his
voice, even though it makes Sirius’ face darken further, “Why are you still wasting your time
on me? After everything. After all that happened”.

A muscle flickers in Sirius’ jaw as he clenches and Remus wonders if he wants to hit him. He
knows he deserves it, but Sirius just flexes his hands and grinds out, “You’re so fucking
welcome. You’re the most ungrateful arsehole I’ve ever met. Do you know how long-” he
pauses to take a breath and his face twists bitterly, “how hard I’ve worked? What I’ve done to
get it this far and all you can say is ‘why’?”

“Because I’m not worth it, what don’t you understand?!” Remus bursts out.

The outburst makes the room spin and he hunches over, clutching wildly at his hair, “You’re
worth a hundred of me, Sirius, and you’re wasting your life trying to help me when you
should be doing something better. I shouldn’t even be here!” The words are wrenched from
the very depths of his darkest moments, and they come out in a strangled shout because they
were never intended to be voiced.

“I should have died when I was five and my parents should have been able to grieve a son
and move on, but instead they agonise every month over whether I’ll make it through the
next full moon. I’m a broken, damaged thing that lives on borrowed time and everyone
around me suffers for it. You never should have given me the time of day. I’m not even with
you and I’m still ruining your life”.

He presses his palms hard into his eyes, the darkness behind his lids cool against the
dizziness. His stomach churns uncomfortably and he clenches his jaw to stop himself
retching, and to stem the flow of words. It’s far more than he meant to reveal and he hates
himself for the weakness, loathes how self-pitying it sounds next to all of Sirius’ sacrifices.
He stays like that for some time, until his stomach stops lurching. When he lowers his hands,
the room is blurry and he turns away from Sirius, looking back at the bathroom door. The pill
bottle is still clutched tightly in his fist.

“Remus, I-”, Sirius starts, but trails off, his voice low, “How can you think that? Any of
that?”

“It’s the truth”, Remus spits out, the bitterness in his voice surprising even himself, “the day I
was bitten I became a burden to everyone around me. I never should have become a burden
to you too. I thought if you left before I could hurt you… but I never expected you to
continue trying to help. I’m so sorry”.

“I hope you’re apologising for pushing me away”, Sirius snaps and the harsh tone surprises
Remus into looking at him. Even as blurry and watery as his vision is, he can see the angry
twist to his mouth and the way his grey eyes are narrowed.

“You better not be saying sorry for being a burden. Because you never were. An arsehole,
yeah. An idiot that pushed away the person who loves them the most - too fucking right. But
I could never regret being with you and you’ve never been a burden. You were everything to
me. So don’t apologise unless it’s for breaking up with me when I was just trying to help”.

The blurry gets worse and the room shimmers brilliantly. Remus drops his face back into his
hands to hide it, even as the first tear falls into his lap. The pill bottle presses against his
cheek, still held tightly in his hand, and it makes the tears come faster.

He hasn’t cried in front of anyone since he was a child. He allows himself a quiet cry in the
shower after some of the more painful transformations, but the last person to witness it was
his mother, when he howled his misery into her chest, ten years old, bloodied and bruised
from the full moon, and terrified of a lifetime of pain. He remembers the way her face
crumpled into itself, and her own eyes watered as she stroked his hair and whispered
platitudes to him. No one has witnessed it since, and he definitely never intended for Sirius to
be the first. But he can’t stop it. It pours out of him and his shoulders shake with all the
suppressed pain he’s held in over the years. He’s glad that his voice seems to be lost, and the
only sound in the room is his strangled breathing as he tries to reel himself back in.

He jumps when warmth engulfs him. Sirius’ arms are holding him tightly, and his face is
pressed into his shoulder. He expects to cry harder for it, but it somehow gives him the
strength to bring himself under control. His breaths even out and as he takes deep breaths, he
inhales the faint smell of sweet, woody, smoke - the smell that clung to the pillows for barely
a week after Sirius left, and that he’s been craving since. He wipes his eyes roughly, sniffing,
but Sirius doesn’t relax his hold.
“I’m sorry, Sirius”.

It’s so inadequate to the meaning he intends but Sirius tightens his grip anyway.

“We’ve both got damage, I guess”, Sirius mumbles into his shoulder.

“What a pair”, Remus replies thickly.

“A jumbo jet’s worth of baggage between us”.

“It’s a miracle we ever made it off the ground”.

Sirius’ grip loosens and he pulls back slowly.

“I’m sorry too”, he stares down at Remus’ hand which still holds the bottle, “not sorry that I
ignored your stupid advice to not help. But I am sorry I did it behind your back. I just wish
you'd let me…”

He longs to touch Sirius' cheek, hold his face in his hands. But he doesn't know if the touch
will be welcome, so he settles for looking, and feels the insatiable hunger abate slightly,
drinking in each of Sirius' beautiful features.

"I always meant it, you know?" The words tumble from his mouth without thinking, "You
said I lied about it, when we fought".

Sirius' eyes lock with his and he wants to kiss him, wants to drown in that stormy grey sea.

"I meant it, I don't think I've ever said anything more honest than having you, makes this all
okay. I did forgive becoming what I am, every hardship I went through was worth it because I
had you. I just want you to know, you were enough for me. I didn't need more".

Sirius' face twists, and Remus' hand twitches. It looks like he's fighting within himself, eyes
pained and dark. And then Sirius is kissing him and the world shatters.

The sun is warm on his skin and turns his world red when he closes his eyes, but it all fades
compared to the feeling of Sirius' skin. His lips press roughly against his own, hard and
demanding and desperate. There are months worth of words in this kiss. He grips Sirius' arms
so tight it'll bruise, because this could easily be a dream, he might have slipped back into
sleep and this isn't real, and he can't bear to wake from this, Sirius warm and pressing closer
to him like he's dying of thirst and Remus is the last drop of water on earth.

He feels how much he's hurt him in the way Sirius grips at his shirt, and he pulls him closer.
Sorry, I'm so sorry , painting his skin, stroking his cheek, and Sirius inhales shakily when he
holds his face in both hands.

Sirius drops his head into the hold and grips his wrist tightly, holding his hand in place
against his cheek. Remus feels his heart shatter at the vulnerability of it, the silent plea to be
held, and the words tumble out, touch no longer enough.
"Sorry, I'm so sorry, I never meant to… I've been stupid, I'm so sorry. I've missed you so
much…"

He buries his nose in Sirius' hair. It smells like sweat and needs washed but he doesn't care,
not a single cell of his being cares, because it's Sirius and there's nothing he could do or be
that Remus would shy away from.

"Let's just…" Sirius starts hesitantly, voice smaller than Remus ever remembers it being, "can
we try again?"

"I-yeah. Of course".

Of course, anything.

Sirius' stubble scrapes against his palm as he raises his chin to meet his eyes.

"I don't know if it'll be the same", he says, and it feels like something is caught in Remus'
throat, he can't swallow, he can't breathe, "it really messed with my head. Losing you.
Knowing it was my fault. But I want to try again, I don't think I ever want to stop trying."

Remus nods. His throat closes over his words because Sirius' eyes still look pained and he
hates himself for being the source of that pain.

"I'm sorry", is all that manages to scrape out, and it sounds hoarse and watery. He's like a
broken record.

Sirius shakes his head and shrugs, as if it's nothing, and not for the first time, Remus gets a
flash of a much smaller, younger Sirius sitting in front of him. He thinks back to the night
Sirius told him about his mother, bathed in warm light and clouded by smoke as they sat
across from each other on the couch, Sirius' fingers worrying at a tear in the fabric as he
frowned, the look in his eyes miles away. God, how that feels like a lifetime ago. He
remembers small details Sirius had dropped over the last months they were together about
how his home life was. An offhand comment about he'd never known parents read to their
children, when Remus had mentioned what books his mother read to him as a child. A
haunted look in his eyes and clenching of fists when he spoke about detentions in highschool
with James and how his mother had been "right ticked off". How Remus knows he has a
brother because James mentioned it, but Sirius has never brought him up. How his moods can
swing wildly from fury to a strange blank nothing in a blink of an eye, like he doesn't know
what to do with his emotions sometimes, like no one taught him how to handle his own
feelings or told him it was okay to have them.

A fire burns in his chest, knowing Sirius was abused, even though he doesn't know exactly
how. The flames lick along his veins and nerve endings, and he shifts uncomfortably, hot and
restless.

He wonders what part of Sirius' mother was in his head these last few months. What words
echoed in his head after their fight.
"I'm really sorry, I mean it. I don't know what you've been telling yourself, but it was me. I
just never wanted to hurt you, I thought it was the only way to keep you safe. I still don't
know how to keep you safe. But I'll work on it. Trusting - that's something I have to get used
to".

Sirius fixes him with a sharp look, and it's a glimpse of the haughty, proud Sirius that gets
presented to the rest of the world.

"Together", he says firmly, "we keep each other safe together. That's how".

—---

Lily appears again eventually, softly tapping the door and eyes apologising for the
interruption.

“You really do need to eat after those meds.”

Remus beams at her. The sunlight catches her hair in a way that turns some of the strands
golden, and she’s more beautiful than ever, a goddess of fire. Or maybe, Sirius’ hand held
tightly in his own makes the world seem to glow.

She brings soup over to the bed, and there’s a smile there when she sees their hands linked
and the bottle of pills still held tightly in Remus’ hand.

“You should take those right away”, she nods at the bottle, “better to have a whole month’s
worth in your system before the next full moon”.

“Yes, thank you, Doctor”, Sirius drawls and takes the soup from her, “I think I can take it
from here”.

She quickly leans forward and flicks his ear, and Sirius hisses, pulling away.

“Nice to see you back to your old self”, she smiles as Sirius rubs his ear.

She turns back to Remus, “The glucocorticoids have to be injected into muscle. Either me or
Sirius can help you with it, I showed him what to do”.

Sirius stirs the soup and makes a face, “What is this? It smells good, you can’t have made it
yourself”.

Her lips thin and she pulls an arm back sharply. Remus quickly intervenes, grabbing her wrist
and smiling at her, “It looks great, Lily. Thank you. For everything”.

She deflates, giving Sirius a glare, before nodding. “Of course. It’s from Mrs Potter actually.
James may have mentioned you two were going through a rough patch and you were sick.
She made enough to feed an army. Such a Mummy’s boy, can’t keep anything from her”.
Sirius’ head snaps up. “He told-?”

“Oh yes, he did”, her grin widens at Sirius’ look of horror, “she’s planning her relationship
advice phone call as we speak”.

“That fucking snitch”.

Remus looks between them interestedly, swiping the bowl from Sirius to steal a spoonful.
He’s starving now, and it smells amazing. Tomato, he thinks, but it looks rich and creamy.

“He’s just worried about his widdle baby brother”, Lily teases, reaching out to grab Sirius’
cheek, but her hand gets deflected with a light slap.

“I’m older than him!” Sirius protests, a hint of a laugh in his voice.

“I know, but you just have such little brother energy”, she says with a smile, and Remus can’t
help his chuckle. It earns him a glare and he stares down at his soup hard, as if he has to
concentrate. This bickering Sirius and Lily is much better than the mean sniping they used to
do, but he knows it’s best not to get caught in the crossfire.

“She’s going to be such a nightmare at the next Sunday brunch”, Sirius grumbles, folding his
arms, “She already left me five voicemails after I missed the last one”.

“She’s worried about you, idiot”, Lily rolls her eyes, “just tell her what happened. You know,
the abridged version”.

Sirius scowls and there’s a tinge of pink in his cheeks.

Lily continues, wheedling, and throwing glances at Remus, who is still resolutely eating his
soup (which tastes amazing) , and successfully not getting involved, “Orrrr, you could bring
someone along. That would be enough explanation. Distract her from asking about what’s
been going on with the appearance of a boyfriend”.

Remus freezes with the spoon stuck in his mouth and stares wide eyed at her amused face.

Her eyes dart between them both silently staring at her and she bursts out laughing.

“AH! Your faces…”, she cackles, clutching her chest.

They glance at each other and he sees his own shock reflected back on Sirius’ face, before
Sirius chuckles and takes the spoon out of Remus’ mouth, which he was too shocked to
realise he’d left there.

“Do it for me”, Lily implores, wiping her eyes, “I’ve had to sit through all those brunches
while you were off in your lab, up to your eyeballs in werevirus and moping. She’s asked
when we’re getting engaged twice already! It’s your turn”.

Sirius tears his eyes away from Remus and glares at Lily, who is still chortling. “And give
James, that fucking tattle tale bitch, a break? I don’t think so”.
“Okay”, Lily shrugs, “I guess you’ll just get the relationships 101 lecture then”.

Remus stares, amused at the horrified look on Sirius’ face. It’s nice to see him being treated
like family. Real family. Not the one that darkens his past.

It’s that more than anything, that makes him say, “I’ll go with you, if you want”.

Sirius’ grey eyes are wide enough to fall into, and Remus does, as he has every time he’s
looked at him.

“No, I mean, you don’t have to. Really, it’s fine-”.

“I just- the offer is there, you don’t have-”

“It’s nice of you and all but she can be a bit-”

“If it’s too soon, I understand, I just meant-”

“Oh my god”, Lily interrupts impatiently, “just say yes”.

Sirius glares at her, and the haughtiness of it makes Remus smile through his embarrassment.
The Sirius he knows is seeping back, bit by bit.

“Can you butt out of this, Evans?”

Lily shrugs again but doesn’t make to leave, just stares at Sirius shrewdly as if she needs to
make sure he says the right thing.

He turns back to Remus, uncertainty slipping into the way he fiddles with the spoon. He
remembers what Sirius said before, that it wouldn’t be the same, and he feels it in the way
Sirius won’t meet his eyes. It’s his turn to try. He’ll fix this. Whatever it takes.

“I don’t have to”, he says gently, “It’s just… Whatever you need, I'll be there”.

Sirius nods jerkily, frowning. He sighs, (rather dramatically), and looks away. There’s the
faintest hint of a smile at his lips.

“I suppose it’ll be worse the longer I wait. Yeah… come to the next one. And don’t say I
didn’t try to warn you”.

He feels like the smile on his face must look stupid, the way he can’t control how wide it is.
He practically beams at Sirius, and a shy smile replies.

“Alright”.

“Okay”.

“Christ”, Lily whispers, sounding pained, “Maybe you guys should have that relationships
101 lecture”.
—---

Heard you sold me out

You need to be more specific

Your mum. You told her about me and Remus?

Oh

Yeah. My b

Ffs

She was really worried about you. You didn't return any of her calls, she got all teary and
made the cry face, what do you want from me

Could have told her I was busy with uni. Anything really.

She knows when I'm lying. I didn't even tell her half of it. Just said you guys were fighting
and broke up and he's been real sick, Lily was looking after him

That's most of it actually

Anyway

He's coming to next month's Sunday

What?????

I went to give him the meds and we talked.

You talked?? And you're all good just like that??

We talked, we figured some stuff out. We're working on it.

Are you joking. You've been absolutely broken up over this and you take him back overnight.
I've never seen you so fucked up over a guy. Shouldn't you think about this? Meeting the
parents might be a bit soon after all that

I did think about it. It's all I've thought about for months. I get why he did it, we
understand each other better now.

Please at least tell me you haven't moved back in after one day.

Relax, we're taking it slow. Apart from the meeting the parents thing.

!!!!????
 Fine, I know it's soon. But we're working on things. I really fucking missed him, okay?

Actually I wanted to ask you and Lily to come over to the apartment on the weekend. I
want to work on a plan together.

A plan for what?

I gave him the meds but I won't know if they work if we can't see him during the full
moon.

Fuck not this again

This is a terrible idea

That's why I want your help, idiot. I want to plan it all of us together. The four of us
should be able to come up with something.

Remus too? He agreed to this?

Reluctantly. But yes. Like I said, we're working on things. He's trying to see things my way

Wow okay

I'll be there.

Chapter End Notes

I keep adding to this fic, and it's getting longer and longer.
Also, I may or may not be simultaneously writing two more stupidly long wolfstar fics -
a military AU and Lady Chatterley's lover AU.
Wolfstar has rotted my brain.
Enjoy!
 Chapter 8
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Sirius opens a beer and gulps down half of it in one go. He doesn't really know why he's
nervous. He's the one that invited Lily and James over to Remus' apartment to plan how to
observe Remus during the next full moon. Invited himself over too actually, considering he
doesn't actually live here anymore. He looks around at the apartment. It looks the same as it
always did. It still feels like home.

He closes the fridge and paces in the kitchen, sipping from the beer as he does.

James didn't seem all that happy that they were back together. He supposes he saw the worst
of it, he was there after the fight, he saw how deep he fell into the hole after Remus told him
to leave. It's kind of embarrassing now, how deep he let himself fall, but it's always been that
way. He feels everything with such an intensity that it's overwhelming, like it'll never end. It's
like his brain has two settings, nothing or everything, and something about Remus has locked
it on everything, everything all the time, good or bad.

He looks over at Remus. He's smoking by the window.

To anyone else he might look casual. Sirius knows he's nervous too.

He flicks the cigarette too often, his arms are folded too tightly, and the frown creasing his
brow is usually absent when he smokes, as one of the only times he truly relaxes. He
considers saying something. He continues pacing instead.

He's just finished his beer when a hand gently takes his elbow. He starts and turns to see
Remus standing right behind him, smiling hesitantly.

"You're going to wear a hole in the floor", he says gently, expression soft.

Sirius fights the urge to lean into the touch and bury himself in the soft warm jumper that
Remus wears.

He shrugs. "Hate waiting".

Remus nods and there's a blank moment where they just look at each other. It feels like
there's a disconnect, where their past selves might have leaned on each other, but there's
something between them now that holds them back. He almost gets lost in the thought, the
fear that it'll never go back to the way it was, he can't trust Remus to stay, and Remus can't
trust him at all. And then Remus closes the distance between them, wrapping warm arms
around him.

He stiffens, only for a second, before melting. The jittery nervous energy still bounces around
inside of his chest, but it dulls as he breathes in the earthy smell of Remus' hair.
"It's a good idea", Remus turns his head to murmur in Sirius' ear, "it's a big step for me,
talking about my condition with everyone. Inviting people to see me at my worst. But it's a
good idea, you're right. It'll be better this way."

A knot in his stomach eases and he smiles into the soft hair.

"Thanks. Thanks for doing this".

Remus nods and a sharp rap on the door pulls them apart.

He gets one last look at the soft smile on Remus' face before he goes to open the door to let in
the noise that is their best friends.

Lily enters with exclaims of joy, throwing her arms around Remus and beaming from ear to
ear, before rushing over to give Sirius a tight hug. He's still not used to her being affectionate
yet, but it's growing on him, and he hugs her back briefly. James greets Remus stiffly,
expression uncharacteristically grim, and he makes a beeline for Sirius, hugging him tightly.

He knows James doesn't like this. More than anyone, he knows what he went through with
his parents and how it still affects him, as much as he tries to deny it. He saw the bruises
through their school years, saw the exhaustion and fear Sirius went through living in that
house, and his panic devolving into dead unresponsive silence whenever a letter went home
to his parents. James knows how badly he beats himself up for everything, so it's not really
fair to Remus, that he doesn't know all of this history, doesn't know that he's a basket case
that flips and self destructs whenever he feels like he's let someone down. How losing people
brings all of it back, so he’s thrown right back into that fucking house, where something in
him didn’t make it out of his childhood alive. James knows. And he hasn't quite forgiven
Remus for ending things the way he did yet.

Sirius pats him on the back and shoots him a look that says 'be nice'.

The look that James sends him back says, 'make me'.

"You're looking a bit better", James says loud enough for Lily and Remus to hear behind
them, gripping Sirius' shoulder, "had me worried there the last few months".

Sirius glares but James has already turned away to sit at the table. Lily shoots Remus an
apologetic look and sits beside James. He's pretty sure she pinches him under the table,
because he frowns suddenly and shuffles away.

Sirius sighs quietly. This is going to be a long night.

Luckily he thought to buy plenty of alcohol. Unluckily, this means it makes for less effective
planning and loosens everyone's tongues way too much.

It's awkward at first, with James shooting glares at Remus and Remus avoiding his eyes. But
Lily, genius woman that she is, declares that she can't concentrate after prac and suggests
they play a game first. Sirius breathes a sigh of relief and brings out the spirits and mixers.
They play a few games of Pictionary and Remus' drawings are so conceptual and convoluted
that Lily and James are winning by a landslide.

"Are you fucking joking? How, how, does this mean midnight?" Sirius waves the piece of
paper in front of Remus' nose. He goes cross eyed, looking at his own drawing depicting a
scale of 1 to 10 with a strike in the middle, next to stars and a moon.

"It's mid and it's night. Maybe if you didn't just guess random words-"

"You could have drawn a clock! A clock!"

Lily giggles into her cup and even James chuckles, although his arms are folded and he's
quieter than usual.

"Easy, Van Gogh", Remus quips dryly, draining his cup of... something. He keeps adding
spirits to it before completely finishing it, and it's anyone's guess what it is at this point. "You
draw something more than a stick figure and I'll start taking your advice".

The game helps ease the tension between James and - well, everyone else. It also helps that
Sirius keeps filling James' cup with sneaky shots of vodka, and by the time he's reached the
dregs of his cup he makes a disgusted face and asks who mixed it.

Sirius grins apologetically at Remus and brushes his hand briefly. He hopes it says what he's
thinking.

Sorry my friend is a loyal nutcase who protects my feelings like a dog with a bone.

Remus smiles back, but still looks a little puzzled so he doesn't think he got the message
across.

Unfortunately, James decides to tell him himself.

Lily re-enacts James' wide eyed, deer in headlights look, that he got when Mrs Potter had
asked about wedding bells at the last Sunday breakfast, for Remus and Sirius. They both
burst out laughing because she really captures the way he freezes, like if he doesn't move he
can't be seen. James shrugs, smiling as he watches Lily, but his eyes darken again when he
looks away.

"Yeah well, it was a good distraction for her anyway", he says coldly and it's the most
unsubtle change of topic that Lily and Sirius share a look automatically.

He continues, cheeks red from the alcohol and hair even more mussed than usual, from
running his hands through it, "I mean, Mum was pretty worried about Sirius there for a
while".

"We've heard", Sirius grinds out, nudging him with his foot under the table.
James shifts away and continues, fixing Remus with an icy glare, "That break up came out of
nowhere, I guess. Like no talking, no trying to work things out. Kind of a shock to everyone".

To his credit, Remus stares back this time, face calm and relaxed.

"Say whatever you have to say, James", he says coolly.

"It's really not-", Sirius tries, but James is already overflowing.

"I mean, I get why you were mad, but just cut off like that - leave and I never want to see you
again? Did you even think what that might do to him?"

"Oi", Sirius objects hotly, "I can look after myself, thanks".

James waves a clumsy hand in his direction to shut him up and Lily covers her face with one
hand.

Remus considers James for a moment before saying tightly, "I thought I was doing the right
thing at the time".

"The right thing!" James exclaims, leaning forward, "The right thing would have been to talk
it out. You were living together for Christ's sakes. You don’t go from sunshines and rainbows
to get the fuck out overnight. Not with someone who’s been what he’s been through-"

"Stop it-"

"What he went through with his parents - fuck, and then you go and do the same thing. Do
you even know what that did to him? Cut off like that, like nothing. Did you even think about
him at all?"

Remus' expression doesn't change but his hands clench as James gets to his feet and leans
over the table. Sirius looks on in frozen horror, and from the corner of his eye he sees Lily
watching from between her fingers.

"Like I said, I thought-"

"Yeah I've heard that already", James snarls, "I'm waiting for something else. Something that
excuses you treating him like that".

They stare at each other for a long moment and the background music seems deafening
suddenly. Sirius’ protests are caught in his throat, and he wants to sink to the floor and stay
there forever.

"There isn't one", Remus says finally.

James looks grimly triumphant and shakes his head.

"James, you fucking stubborn prick - stop", Sirius manages to get out and James' gaze snaps
to him, "I didn't… I never went into family stuff, okay? Not in detail. He doesn't know.
You’re making me sound like a nutjob. Fucking sit down, would you?"
James frowns harder but his expression softens as Lily tugs on his sleeve. He sinks back into
his chair and frowns between both of them, but Remus is busy staring a hole into the side of
Sirius' head.

"For fuck's sake", Sirius mutters, intensely uncomfortable under the scrutiny, "way to kill the
buzz".

James frowns harder. "You didnt-"

"No! I didn't!" Sirius snaps, painfully aware of all the eyes on him, "I've never had to tell
anyone about my shitty parents before, I didn't know how or when or what to say. God, you
make it sound like I lived with serial killers or something".

He quickly turns to Remus and tries for a reassuring smile, "It's not that bad, it's not as bad as
he makes it out to be. My parents were just arseholes. No wire hangers or cigarette burns, I
swear".

James snorts incredulously and Sirius silently points at him in warning. It doesn’t work.

"Look, the way his parents treated him made me go into criminal law, is all I'm saying. Take
from that what you will", James mumbles and Lily pats his arm. The way her eyes are wide
and slightly watery tells him that James never told her. He's grateful for that at least, but he
seems quite content to blab it to the world right now. Stupid, blindly loyal prick.

He looks back at Remus and his heart sinks at the wide eyed concern he sees there. Fuck, this
is not how tonight was supposed to go.

"It's fine, I'm fine", he says with a wide smile and it's met with uncomfortable silence.

Something in his chest squeezes and he needs to get out, needs air, needs to be away from the
silence and staring eyes that can see right through him and they're filling in the blanks with
whatever they think happened to him.

He jumps to his feet.

He mumbles something that he hopes sounds like 'need a smoke', and hastily retreats to the
bathroom. Which is stupid. He never smokes in the bathroom. He curses himself as soon as
he shuts the door.

Stupid stupid stupid.

James, bless him, the thick fucking hard headed, sweet, loyal bastard. He told him it was fine,
he told him they were working things out.

He paces, biting at his knuckle, trying to unravel the mess of thoughts in his head.

God, he's done it again. He's such a mess, this is all his fault. Things were going fine, they
were doing better. But he's such a fucked up, complicated mess of a human, how can he
expect to have a normal relationship? Maybe he should have told Remus about his damage.
But how do you bring that up, exactly? Oh yeah, take out for dinner is great, babe, by the
way, my parents abused and neglected me for years and now I can't form healthy connections
with people to save my life. This is such a fucking mess. Mess mess mess. He's such a mess.
His head is a rambling, confusing whirlwind of criticism and his mother's voice is in his ear
again, sneering, 'It's always you, Sirius. At the beginning of every problem in my life, it's
always you. Why can't you just be normal?'

Someone raps on the door.

"I'm fine", he snaps, before realising they didn't say anything. He winces.

"What is it?" He tries a little more calmly.

"Can I come in?" Remus' muffled voice says quietly.

Sirius sighs and looks at the mirror. He tries to practice a smile and it comes out like a scary
grimace. He drops it and glares at himself.

Stupid stupid stupid, complicated mess of a person. A bundle of problems wearing human
skin.

He opens the door and stands back. Remus squeezes in and shuts the door behind him. He
tries a small smile but that doesn't seem to work because Remus looks just as worried as
when he came in.

"I'm not in here talking to myself and the voices, if that's what you think", Sirius bites out and
it comes out harsher than he means it to. He folds his arms.

Remus leans back against the shower door. Their feet are side by side as they lean away from
each other.

"I wasn't thinking that. But for the record, that wouldn't be enough to scare me off. I mean,
I'm a werewolf after all, can't get much worse than that".

This gets a smile out of him, a real one, and he breathes a little easier.

"You don't have to tell me about it", Remus continues gently, "Not tonight, or ever, if you
don't want to. But James is right. I didn't mean to, but I obviously hurt you really deep. And
I'll do my best to work around whatever is triggering you, but it makes it hard if I don't know
what it is".

"I'm not triggered", he replies automatically, offended.

Remus cocks his head and God, the crook of his neck and shoulder looks warm and
comfortable and he knows it would be nice and dark to hide his face there. He looks away.

"We can use whatever word you like", Remus says, amused.

Sirius fidgets, and leans his head back against the cool tiles.
"I'll… we can talk about it. Not tonight. But we'll talk about it", he distractedly scrapes the
bottom of his shoe against the raised tiles lining the shower and it's a testament to how
focused Remus is on the conversation that he doesn't complain.

"It's really not as bad as he says", he tries one last time, trying to salvage whatever is left of
his image as a sane ( well , kind of), functional adult, "literally, they were mean, I rebelled.
That's the gist of it".

Remus hums noncommittally and straightens. He tugs the front of Sirius' shirt gently, and he
allows himself to be pulled forward. Remus kisses him gently, sweetly, one hand on his jaw
and the other on his chest. It's over much too soon.

He blinks in the light of the bathroom, unaware that he'd even closed his eyes. He pulls
Remus back and kisses him again, chasing the pleasant emptiness that fills his head when
they kiss. Remus is warm and soft against his front and the tiles cool and hard against his
back, and the sensations distract his mind so much that the chants of stupid and fuck up have
to stop, chased out by the murmurs of soft and warm that echo dumbly in his head.

He grasps at the jumper and pulls him even closer. There's not even air between them and
Remus leans against the wall above Sirius' head and he feels caged in, but not trapped, just
held and contained. Safe. Remus' breath in his mouth, stubble scraping against his cheek,
tongue sliding along his bottom lip, it's all good good good in his brain and he melts. Remus
slows the kiss down until he's just leaving pecks on Sirius' lips.

"We should go back out there", Remus murmurs against his lips.

Sirius shakes his head, bumping their noses together, "It's so fucking embarrassing. I'm gonna
die".

He feels Remus' teeth as he smiles.

"Nothing to be embarrassed about. But you know what? I'll let Lily tell an embarrassing story
about me if you come back out with me. It'll be fine, I promise".

He perks up at that and nods. He catches sight of his own face in the mirror as they leave the
bathroom and his smile looks normal again.

Remus whispers something in Lily’s ear as they sit back down and she grins widely,
immediately launching into a story with a dramatic, "Right, so, two years ago, the way I
looked at Remus changed forever…".

James seems to have sobered up a bit, or Lily chewed him out, because he shoots Sirius an
apologetic look and nudges his foot.

Sirius shrugs. He knows James is right. Kind of. And he means well, so he can never stay
mad at him for long.
They exchange small smiles and turn to hear the rest of Lily's story, which turns out to be just
as embarrassing as promised, and clears the air rather spectacularly as they all roar with
laughter at Remus' expense. At the end, he stands and gives a little bow, cheeks beautifully
flushed. When Lily and James aren't looking, he gives Sirius a wink.

—--

The planning night becomes a planning morning, because they all drink too much to plan
more than a sneaky trip to the kebab shop at 1am.

Lily insists that they'll be back early to finish what they were meant to do that night, and
drags James away for a few hours of sleep. He leaves after muttering something in Remus'
ear, and Sirius is too tired to ask about it.

His flat isn't far but his brain is telling him he's already home, so his body is in complete
sleep mode. Remus pushes him into the bathroom, stumbling and whining, to brush his teeth,
chuckling as he does.

Sharing a bed should be weird, after so long apart. It isn't. He barely even thinks about it as
he nestles into sheets that smells deeply of cinnamon and cool earth. He drifts off to sleep
before Remus even says goodnight.

Waking the next morning is weird.

His mouth is drier than desert sand and the morning sun is far too bright. He blinks blearily.
There's a glass of water on his bedside. No, the side that used to be his.

He reaches for it and starts, realising he's been sleeping on an outstretched arm. He looks
behind.

Remus is sleeping on his side, curled around him, breaths deep and slow, and his face is
almost completely relaxed, save for a slight frown. Sirius melts. He always frowns in his
sleep. It's a silly, endearing thing that Sirius thought about every morning that they woke up
apart. He'd told him about it once, asking if he was marking papers in his dreams and
furiously scribbling over badly written essays. Remus had just laughed, said he didn't know
he frowned in his sleep, no one ever told him.

He lies back onto the arm and looks up at the crease between Remus' eyebrows. Lifts a hand
and tucks strands of brown hair behind his ear. He's a heavy sleeper, so he doesn't have to
worry about waking him. He can stare until his heart is full again.
He has to wake him eventually, as it gets closer to 8am, when Lily said they'd be back. He
does so reluctantly; having Remus as a warm, silent presence pressed close to him has been
nice. Uncomplicated. He shifts away a little further before shaking him. He grunts but doesn't
stir and Sirius huffs in exasperation.

"C'mon, they'll be here soon. Wake up".

"Hmmm".

"Oi, if James comes in and we're in bed together he might actually kill you. Silly git he is. I
feel like a princess guarded by a stupid specky dragon".

This gets Remus to open his eyes. The frown deepens spectacularly for a moment as he looks
around at the sunlight and the clock, but it melts as soon as his gaze lands on Sirius. His face
brightens in an instant as he smiles, and if Sirius were standing he'd trip and fall flat on his
face. His mouth feels even drier.

"Morning, grumpy", he mutters hoarsely.

Remus rubs his eyes. "Was I frowning again?"

It should be illegal for his voice to be that low and hoarse, and it sends a spark of lightning
down Sirius' spine. He looks away.

"As always. Gotta bully the sleep into staying, I guess", he says, sitting up to stop himself
from collapsing into the heat he can feel rolling off Remus.

Getting out of bed feels like pulling himself out of quicksand, and looking back down at
Remus, bathed in sunlight and looking warm and smiley and so fucking soft makes him want
to dive right back in. He almost does, but a rap at the front door stops him.

He quickly goes to grab his toothbrush (why Remus kept it, he doesn’t know), and answers
the front door while brushing his teeth. Lily smiles widely at him and what an amazing,
glowing goddess she is, with her arms full of food. He grins around his toothbrush at her and
she walks in, flowery smell trailing after her. He'd never be able to tell she's only had a few
hours of sleep. He distantly wonders how often that's been the case and he's never realised.
James follows, also carrying food, looking far more tired than his girlfriend and a little
sheepish.

His gaze catches on the toothbrush and he frowns for a second before looking away.

"Sorry about all that, by the way".

Sirius shrugs and punches him in the shoulder.

"Don't know if you know this but I'm a grown man. You don't have to fight my exes for me.
Well, ex-exes", he replies, but it comes out gargled around the toothpaste. It’s a testament to
their friendship that James actually understands everything he’s said.
"Yeah, a grown man that makes terrible, idiotic decisions constantly", James wrinkles his
nose at him, "but I'll ease up. Just do me a favour and talk about things, would ya? Like,
before moving back in together. I just… don't want to see you like that again".

Sirius shrugs but they both know it means yes, and James nods in understanding before
following Lily through to the dining room.

Remus emerges dressed in an especially baggy jumper, his hair all over the place, and a
sleepy smile on his face, and Sirius wants to climb over the table and kiss the life out of him.
Instead he offers him a chocolate croissant, which he tears into immediately. He kisses the
top of Lily's head and she squawks, brushing crumbs out of her hair. He sinks into the chair
next to Sirius and nods at James, who smiles back, and although it looks a little brittle, it's
miles better than last night. Sirius breathes a sigh of relief.

"Right, so let's actually plan this", Lily says briskly, bringing out her laptop and brushing
aside some stray hash browns.

They all nod slowly, brains not quite at Lily speed yet, and they sit back and let her run the
meeting like the little guild captain she used to be. Remus makes coffee while she rattles off
the things she thinks they need to consider, and Sirius can see the tension in his shoulders,
knows he needs to distance himself for a moment, but he's still listening.

When he sits back down, he curls in on himself, arms crossed, cradling his coffee and
frowning, morning smiles chased away by the memory of what he is and what they're going
to do.

Sirius puts his hand on his knee underneath the table, and his mouth twitches in response.

It turns out Lily has thought about this long and hard and has come up with the decent bones
of a plan.

"There's this old abandoned hospital we could use. They specialised in psychiatry so they've
got reinforced observation rooms. I went to check them out and they're still pretty secure-"

"You did what ?" James and Remus say incredulously at the same time, while Sirius snorts.

"I had a rough day at prac and needed a distraction", she says dismissively and James looks
like he's about to blow a fuse.

"Classic Evans", Sirius grins at her fondly and there's a tinge of mischief in her returning
grin.

"Anyway, it's fine. People think it's haunted so even vagrants mostly stay away. It got called
the Shrieking Shack during its last days because you could hear the patients screaming for
miles away. Quite sad what they went through actually, that's why it got shut down. I know
it's a bit of a grim place to do this but it's got everything we need".
"Knew I'd end up in a loony bin one day", Sirius mutters and she glares at him, "right right,
sorry, not loony bin. Psychiatric hospital".

Remus frowns at the photo she's showing them on her laptop.

"How secure are these rooms?"

Sirius looks closer. The room looks like it's been abandoned for years. It's not the padded
walls he expected, but a small, dirty room with the photo taken looking through the one way
mirror that makes up one wall. She’s right - it’s perfect. They’ll be able to watch Remus as a
wolf during the full moon, to see how the medicine has affected him.

"Well it was built to contain people during the worst of psychosis, so it's reinforced glass. I
don't know if it'll hold you though", she admits.

"I mean, it could just be a safe guard, right?" James says, "we can give you something else to
mellow you out so we don't have to rely on just the glass. We can just use it to hide us from
the wolf".

"Sure, but we can't use any sedatives or I won't be able to tell what the effects of the new
meds are", Sirius adds.

They look at Remus for his input, but he's still staring at the photo on the laptop, a clenched
fist held in front of his mouth, and there's a rattled, far away look in his eye. He looks frozen.
Sirius grips his knee tighter and smiles at him gently. He jerks out of wherever he'd gone, and
looks around at them.

"Um, yeah, actually", he smiles briefly and it doesn't reach his eyes, "I know something we
can use".

They listen expectantly, and Remus shifts uncomfortably, chewing at a nail. It's so unlike
him, that Sirius falters, for a brief second wanting to call this off, just to wipe that hunted,
worried look off his face. But then Remus bites out, "My parents used to use cages when I
was smaller. As I got older they stopped working. But I think I know what would make it
work, something my parents never would have considered".

Sirius' mind snags on the image of Remus as a child, curled up in a metal cage as he waits for
the transformation, and he winces. And everyone thinks he had a traumatic childhood.

"We line it with silver", Remus says quietly, and there's a calm resolve in his voice, even as
he shoots an apologetic look at Sirius, "I know I said it's a myth. But I think it will work
when I'm transformed. I don't know for sure. I can touch silver as a human but it doesn't feel
right, it feels warm, too warm. I know it'll have an effect during the full moon, but I don't
know what exactly".

Sirius gapes.

"That's crazy", he manages to say furiously, "we don't know what it'll do to you".
Remus shrugs and he shouldn’t be this careless about whether he lives or dies, it’s so unlike
him to be careless until it comes to his own life and wellbeing. Sirius feels a piece of his heart
break, a little more does every time he sees how little Remus thinks of himself.

"Sirius is right", Lily says frowning, "we don't know what you'll do in your wolf form, what
if you try to get out anyway and injure yourself? What if silver injuries are lethal?"

He feels a rush of gratitude towards her.

"They're not in the legends", Remus argues, staring at James for some reason, "Not unless it's
a silver bullet to the heart. Maybe there's some truth to it".

Sirius shakes his head, can't hear this, can't do this.

"You know I'm right", Remus says to the room at large, but he's still staring at James, who
has been silent, staring back with an unreadable look on his face.

He nods slowly and Sirius glares. Traitor.

"Unless someone's got a better idea", James says, still looking at Remus. Something seems to
pass between them, communicated only by expressions, and they silently agree on
something, looking grimly satisfied.

Overwhelmed by the silence, and the fact that everyone seems to have agreed that Remus
dying is a risk they have to take, Sirius' protests are stuck in his throat. This can't be all
they've got, four post grads in one room and the best they've got is it might kill him, but we'll
see?

Before he can explode, Lily touches his hand gently, seeming to know what he's thinking.

"It's just a precaution. We'll make it as secure as possible so touching the silver is a last
resort", she says quietly. It doesn't sit right, but he's outnumbered. He folds his arms and
glares down at the table.

"We can add restraints to the cage, I guess", James agrees, before shooting Remus a small,
apologetic smile, "Sorry, this sounds awful".

"No, no, the more the better", Remus nods, "my first priority is that you're all as safe as
possible. But I think we might not have to make one from scratch".

"You have a cage here?" Sirius asks incredulously, surprised out of his brooding. Surely he
would have seen a great big cage in the apartment.

Remus shakes his head and looks down at his hands. There's a sad tilt to his smile.

"No, not here. My parents still have one they never tried, after they gave up on the cages. It's
been a while since I've visited, anyway, I've been meaning to".

He turns to Sirius and there's something in his eyes that doesn't belong there. It makes him
look vulnerable and Sirius wants to take his face in his hands and tell him they don't have to
 do this, not if this is the price.

"Fancy a trip to the country?", he says lightly, his expression anything but light.

"Oh…"

"You don't have to", Remus ch uckles at Sirius' surprise, "I just thought, I'm meeting yours,
you're welcome to meet mine. Fair's fair. Only if you want to, of course. It probably won't be
as nice as going to the Potters-".

"Oh yeah, I mean, sure, of course", Sirius stutters, shifting in his seat. He's aware of eyes on
him and looks over to see Lily looking bemused and James surprisingly unbothered.
Apparently something happened in the conversation that eased his misgivings, because he
just looks thoughtful, and shoots Sirius an encouraging grin.

"Look at you. Meeting the parents, making a cage for your boyfriend. All the big steps to a
healthy relationship".

Sirius pelts a hash brown at him and it hits him square in the glasses, leaving a greasy streak
across the lens, and Lily and Remus clutching their stomachs in laughter at the indignation on
James' face.

Chapter End Notes

Two meeting the parents for the price of one, because who doesn't love the meeting the
parents trope?
Can't wait to upload the next chapter tbh these boys deserve to be happy.
 Chapter 9
Chapter Notes

I'm actually so happy with this chapter.

Bone apple teeth

Warning for mentions of past child abuse

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Spring semester comes to a quiet end, and Sirius realises with an unsettling shock that he's
only known Remus for seven months. It feels like years. He could've sworn they've been
through summers and winters together, known each other through all of their studies. So
much has happened over such a short time.

The warmer weather that comes with the end of the semester makes him feel lazy, so even
with McGonagall breathing down his neck about his honours project, he fobs off her emails
once again and firmly puts it in the 'to worry about later. Or not' pile in his brain.

He has more pressing concerns. Like making sure Remus takes his new medication. He's seen
him forget to eat for a whole day before, so he doesn't take any chances, texting him
reminders when they're not together. So far, he's had no side effects. Or more likely, the most
common side effects of the medication are similar to what he already experiences - joint and
muscle pain, nausea, dizziness. The only noticeable change is that he's suddenly ravenous,
inhaling everything that's placed in front of him with relish.

He texts Lily about it, like he's taken to doing with anything concerning Remus. It's a
pleasant surprise, finding a friend in Lily, someone he can confide his fears and frustrations in
and hear them reflected back by someone who worries about Remus almost as much as he
does.

He's eating like a rugby player. Is it the meds?

It can be a side effect of the glucocorticoids. Thank God, I asked if he ate at all one day and
he was like idk I think I had some crackers.

How is he alive?

Stubbornness and nicotine. Which reminds me, you should stop him smoking
Is this to do with the new meds or is this just your usual soap box?

Oh yes cancer, what a silly thing to worry about.

Let's worry about the furry little problem first alright?

Fine but I will get you both to quit. James did.

Unlike James, you can't make me your bitch.

We'll see

Remus arranges a trip to visit his parents the next weekend. Sirius assumes he’s going with
him as a friend. Remus has told him before in passing, that he never officially came out to his
parents, but he’s sure they know. Still, it’s one thing to mutually accept something and never
speak of it, it’s another completely to have the proof over for dinner. He’s fine with it. He just
hopes he doesn’t slip up and accidentally sit too close to him or something in front of them.

He comes over in the morning, a few hours before they have to leave and sprawls on the bed
to watch Remus do his last minute packing.

Remus is quieter than usual, and keeps forgetting where he’s left things, walking in and out
of the room aimlessly. It’s so unlike him. But then, going back home to visit parents does that
to everyone, he thinks. Not that he would know personally, but that’s the impression he gets
from seeing uni friends get ready to go home during break. You’re not quite the child that
your parents remember but you can’t be the adult that you’ve become. Visiting parents is
being suspended in limbo.

Sirius watches the lost pacing and tries to distract him, joking, “You’ll be pleased to know I
packed my straightest clothes”.

Remus starts from staring into space while unrolling some socks he’d rolled up only five
minutes ago.

“Hmm?”

“I packed my straightest clothes. I don’t have a flannel shirt but band shirts are pretty
straight, right?”

Remus’ eyebrows raise.

“What you normally wear is fine”, he pauses thoughtfully before adding with a lopsided grin,
“except maybe that shirt you wore to Macy’s Shack”.

Sirius guffaws, “Sun’s out guns out”.

“If memory serves, midriff too. An excellent first impression”.

“Hi Mr and Mrs Lupin, I’m your son’s very straight platonic friend, so nice to meet you. Oh
this? It’s my very straight slut tee.”

Remus’ eyebrows raise higher but Sirius continues chattering, resting his chin on his hand as
he thinks back to the last time he worried about people finding out about his sexuality.

“Y’know, I used to copy James in school, the things he’d say, how he’d act around girls.
Imagine that, the blind leading the blind”.

Copying James won’t help anymore because he’s the most clingy, soppy straight bloke he’s
ever known, now that they’re both adults and comfortable with themselves. Not just with Lily
either. More than once, when drunk and high, he complained that Sirius never says, ‘I love
you’ back. Way too many times to count, he’s had to smack James away, insisting on
personal space when he lounges all over him when he’s irritable, unable to deal with the
clingy, affectionate monster. The straightest man he knows.

Remus stares at him quizzically. He sounds amused when he says, “I’d love to see your
impression of a straight man, but my parents are expecting my boyfriend”.

“Oh”.

“I thought that’s what-”

“Oh, yeah, of course. I just didn’t know if you-”.

“They’re fine with that, if you’re worried about how they’ll be. I don’t think they’re bothered
that you’re a guy…”, he trails off, frowning down at the socks in his hand.

“They’re just not thrilled, I guess?” Sirius offers, trying to fill in the gaps. Remus doesn’t
exactly look ecstatic to be bringing him home to his parents, but if it’s not the gay thing, then
what?

“It’s not that”, Remus shakes his head, “the fact that I’m in a relationship at all worries them.
They worry about people finding out about the transformations, that’s all”.

Ah, the werewolf thing. The other big, bad secret.

“It’s fine”, Remus insists, flashing a smile, although it looks a little stiff, “I’m glad you’re
meeting them”.

He knows him well enough now, to know that he’s not saying everything. But he figures it’s
only a matter of time before he finds out what’s making him so tense, because they’re leaving
for the station in thirty minutes.

They take the train to Ipswich, which is the closest station to the Lupin house, in the small
town of Barham in Suffolk. Remus insists it’s really not much, and explains that because they
had to move so many times, and his parents spent so much time and money looking for a
cure, that they’re not well off. Sirius tells him they’ll have to call it off then, if there’ll be no
dowry. Remus replies that it’s too late, he should have thought of that before taking his
virginity. As always, he underestimates Remus’ incredible poker face, staring at him in shock
until Remus takes pity on him and laughs, shaking his head.

It feels surreal, sitting on the train next to Remus, going to meet his parents. To stay
overnight, even. Like they've skipped a few steps, and shot straight to being embedded in
each other's lives. But it feels like he's known him for years, all his life maybe, and that's
what makes this so easy, to slip into this familiarity that feels as natural as breathing.

He listens to music on the 2 hour train ride, trying not to think about the next full moon and
what they're planning to do. It's easy actually, because he's too busy wondering what the
Lupins are like. Remus doesn’t talk about them much, so he has to rely on his imagination. It
doesn’t help.

Brick buildings pass by in a blur and slowly the city becomes green, rolling hills and patches
of houses cluster together like they can protect each other from the cold. Billy Idol blares in
his ears, always a guarantee to get him pumped and in a good mood, but he's miles away.

As confident as he pretends to be in front of Remus, he has his doubts. What if Remus'

parents don't like him? He knows he looks like the opposite of what parents dream their kids
will bring home. He's always liked that about his outward appearance, it means he doesn’t
usually attract the sort of blokes who want that sort of life, where you have to meet the
parents and end up at their house every Christmas, when you’re not busy arguing about what
colour to paint the lounge room. But Remus doesn't really seem to want that life either. In
fact, he doesn't seem that close to them, there's almost a sadness in his voice when he talks
about them. Sirius thinks back to the morning he'd given Remus the medicine, how he'd
clutched at his hair and said into his palms, muffled pain in his voice, "I should have died,
and they should have been able to mourn their son". He knows Remus feels guilty, just for
existing as he is. He wonders if that's why he doesn't visit them much.

He spends most of the ride lost in thought, while Remus reads an old hardback book beside
him, and about the point where they pass Chelmsford, Remus' head starts to nod. Sirius
watches in amusement as light brown hair falls over his eyes and the book slowly starts to
fall. The man can sleep anywhere. Crumpled up in a library chair, hunched over the dining
table, even in the shower once, after some lazy shower sex where he'd ended up on the floor,
head nodding forward just like it is now.

Sirius tugs his sleeve and Remus goes willingly, so peaceful and easy when he's tired, and
rests his head on Sirius' shoulder the rest of the way.

Remus’ father picks them up from the station. Lyall Lupin is a glimpse into Remus’ future.
He has his tall, slim frame, light brown hair greyed at the temples, and the same brown eyes
that look right into Sirius’ soul when he shakes his calloused hand.

Sirius gives him one of his winning smiles but the returning smile is grim and brief. His
stomach sinks. Lyall's smile is warmer for his son and he clasps his shoulder tightly.
“You look tired”.

His voice is deep and Sirius is surprised to hear a Birmingham accent - Remus’ mother must
be the Welsh one, then.

“Always”, Remus replies with an easy smile, “how’s mum?”

“Oh, y’know. She worries”, Lyall says, as he leads them to the car, “She misses you. Taken
an interest in gardening, so that keeps her busy most days”.

Sirius trails along slightly behind them as they talk, and he would feel quite out of place if it
wasn’t for Remus’ hand gripping the sleeve of his leather jacket.

They leave the bustle of Ipswich for the little village of Barham, and Sirius watches the
countryside fly past from the window of Lyall’s rundown pickup truck, growing greener and
more wild as they drive. He does his best to offer polite small talk, but Lyall doesn’t talk that
much, and Remus fills the silence by telling him the history of the town. He doesn’t seem
bothered by his father’s silence, so it must be normal. Sirius hopes, anyway.

The history of Barham is not at all interesting, but he listens with encouraging nods and
hums, smiling as he’s reminded of how much Remus likes history, by the way his eyes light
up and how he eagerly turns in his chair to point out landmarks. They turn down a dirt lane
and for the first time since getting in the car, Lyall speaks.

“Now, it’s not much. Not what a chap like yourself is used to, no doubt”, he says quietly,
brown eyes glancing in Sirius’ direction in the rear view mirror, “I’ve heard of the Black
family, very grand like. You won't find that here”.

His stomach sinks. There is nothing good to be said of the Black family.

“I’m not considered part of the Black family anymore”, he says sharply, unable to control the
haughtiness that creeps into his voice, which turns his stomach with how much it reminds
him of his mother, “And I’m a uni student, I don’t exactly live in luxury”.

Lyall hums and brown eyes continue to flit in the rear view mirror, as if Sirius is a curiosity in
the back seat.

It’s a relief to get out of the car, not just because of the heat that’s settling in over the late
morning. Remus flashes him an apologetic look as they get their bags out of the back, and he
sends back what he hopes is a reassuring smile.

A pleasant breeze lifts his hair and he looks up at the Lupin house. It’s homely. The small, red
bricked two storey house is the only building for miles, and the surrounding land is fenced
neatly, paddocks stretching in all directions. There are some tiles of odd colours scattered
through the roof, like it’s been repaired with whatever’s at hand, and the paint is peeling on
the window frames and doors. It’s worn but it looks like a home. He can hear chickens
clucking somewhere and there’s the faint smell of farm animals in the air, but he’s not sure if
it’s the Lupin property or just the countryside in general. Remus takes his hand and tugs him
forward as Lyall strides ahead.
Hope Lupin hurries out of the front door to meet them, and instantly Sirius feels warmly
towards her as the smile lighting up her face matches Remus’ perfectly. She throws herself
into Remus’ arms and spends a moment touching his cheek before pulling Sirius into a warm
hug. He’s almost too surprised to hug her back, but recovers after a second, and pats her back
awkwardly, looking down at her blonde head that barely reaches his chest. She pulls back,
dark eyes glinting in the light.

“You must be Sirius. My word, you’re handsome. Our Remus hasn’t told us much about you,
come inside and have a cuppa and tell us about yourself”.

Sirius beams at her, mesmerised by the melodic lilt to her voice, as Remus protests, suddenly
sounding much younger, “I’ve been busy, Ma”.

“No excuse, love”, she says briskly, “when I ask how you're doing, why’re you telling me
about the weather when you’ve got this lovely young man to talk about. Honestly, Remus”.

He’s pulled into the house and he looks back to grin at Remus, who follows with an anxious
look on his face.

Hope turns out to be the bubbly, sweet counterpart to Lyall’s quiet hums and grumbles, and
Sirius gets along with her like a house on fire. He sees bits of Remus in her cheeky smiles,
and the way she waves her hands when she talks enthusiastically, and he drinks it all in
eagerly, fascinated to see these features shared between them, a string linking them together
across generations, time and distance. They sit around the small dining table and talk, and
he’s hypnotised by the way Remus’ accent steadily gets stronger the longer he talks to his
mother. Despite the trepidation before arriving, Remus chats easily about work, about the
vegetables his mother’s managed to grow, and to an outsider it would appear that nothing is
amiss. But they tiptoe talking around the topic of his and Remus’ relationship, and Remus’
health comes up so briefly, before the subject gets swiftly changed by Lyall. He’s an
intimidating presence, quiet and brooding next to Remus and Hope’s easy smiles, but there’s
a tenderness in his face when he looks at his family that eases the lines around his eyes.

They chat until Hope announces that it's time for lunch, and tells them to go up to the room
and settle in. Remus leads him up the creaky stairs to what looks like an attic converted to a
bedroom. The ceiling slopes down sharply, and they both have to duck to enter the room.
There’s a large, open hatch window across from the bed, filling the room with bright light
and letting in a cool breeze. Even so, it's much hotter up here, and Sirius immediately slips
off his jacket and throws it over the low bed. A poster over the bed catches his eye and he
grins.

"Aladdin Sane album, huh?" He says admiringly, "this must be your old room".

Remus pulls his jumper over his head and looks over at the poster depicting Bowie with the
lightning bolt painted over his face. He grins, and with his hair mussed around his face and
cheeks red from the heat, he takes Sirius' breath away.
"I'm surprised Mum left him up", he says, his shirt riding up as he straightens his hair. Sirius'
eyes follow the flash of skin before turning quickly to sit on the end of the bed, which
squeaks spectacularly. He looks around the room interestedly.

There's a small bookshelf that's half empty, and a small collection of CDs, but otherwise there
aren't many personal effects. A few large boxes are pushed up against the wall so it seems
like this room is used for storage since Remus left for uni. The double bed, however, has been
freshly made.

He glances up at Remus, who's cranking the window open wider.

"They're really not bothered by us sharing a bed tonight?"

Remus glances back. "I don't think so", he hesitates before continuing, "I know my Dad can
be a bit… unwelcoming. But it's not you, that's just the way he is. He's protective, doesn't
want anyone finding out about my condition".

Sirius picks at a loose thread on the blanket, saying as casually as he can, "He was eyeballing
me pretty hard in the car".

"Yeah, sorry", Remus smiles apologetically and leans against the window frame, "he doesn't
really trust anyone. Not when it comes to me, anyway. I'll talk to him".

Sirius shrugs; it's not like he expected to be welcomed with open arms. This is already better
than he'd hoped.

"It's fine", he says, twisting the blanket between his fingers and staring hard at the threadbare
carpet before venturing quietly, "Think it's going okay? Do they like me?"

Remus takes two long strides and he's in front of him before he's even looked up. He brushes
Sirius' hair back from his face. The way Remus looks at him makes his stomach flutter.

"It wouldn't matter a bit to me, if they didn't", Remus says firmly, and then softer, "But yes, I
think they do".

Sirius closes his eyes at the light touch and fingers trail gently down his cheek.

"I'm going to tell them", Remus says quietly, "I don't know how or when, but I'll tell them
that you know about me - about the wolf. I want them to know that you didn't run. You
stayed, they can trust you".

He opens his eyes.

Remus continues, "And one day I'll tell them about all the work you've done, looking for the
cure. Everything you've done for me. You might have actually found what they've been
looking for all these years. Not yet. Not until we confirm it. But I will tell them".

Before he knows what he's doing, he's grabbing Remus' shirt in his fist and pulling him down
roughly into a kiss. There's something about seeing Remus in his childhood home, around his
parents - there's a softness, a vulnerability, in his face and words that pull at Sirius' heart. He
doesn't hide what he thinks or feels here, not from him. The openness tells him that Remus
means it when he says he's working on things, he's learning to trust. It feels like they're
healing, a scar forming where a wound once was, mending until it's nothing more than a
memory.

He kisses him fiercely, one hand gripping the back of his neck, and the other still fisted in his
shirt. Remus hums, surprised, but he sounds pleased, and brushes fingers down Sirius' throat
enticingly before pulling away. His eyes are bright and, for a second, Sirius has forgotten
why they're here, the plan, forgotten all of it, it's just him and Remus in Remus' childhood
bedroom.

"We should go and help them set up", Remus murmurs, even though his face says he wants to
stay here in the stifling heat with Sirius.

Sirius nods but leans back in.

Just one more minute.

There's not much to help with by the time they make it down, the table is already set for four
and laden with food.

The conversation over lunch centres around their studies and it feels stiff, like they're
avoiding an elephant in the room. Eventually, they're forced to talk about why they came here
when Hope asks what time they're heading off tomorrow, and Remus hesitates before saying
he was hoping to borrow the pick-up to take the cage back.

Hope and Lyall exchange startled looks.

"I-yes, I suppose", Hope nods, glancing at Sirius, "let's talk about it after lunch".

Lyall stares hard at his son, and the look is so familiar that Sirius is thrown back months ago,
when he felt pinned down by the exact same stare when Remus had known something was
wrong after that fateful full moon. Remus also seems to realise that his father knows
something is up, because he carefully folds his napkin and looks his father square in the eye.

"Actually, now is a good time to talk about it", he says calmly, but his knuckles are white
where he clenches his fist on the table, "I need to tell you both something".

Sirius' breath catches in his throat and he stares. Right now? Really? He glances at the Lupins
who are staring at Remus in alarm.

"Sirius knows about my transformations", Remus says evenly, and Sirius absently admires
how calm he appears, "he found out a few months ago. We can talk in front of him".

Sirius' mouth goes dry as Lyall and Hope turn sharply to look at him. He offers a smile that
feels far weaker and less charming than he means.

They look back at Remus simultaneously.

"I… um", Hope begins, unconsciously tearing her napkin into neat shreds, "well, I suppose
that's good… that's wonderful. You've found someone accepting. And you", she turns shining
eyes back to Sirius, "you've accepted Remus as he is. That's very good of you".

It's so oddly stiff, completely different to the Hope who greeted them in the driveway that he
wonders if maybe she doesn't truly believe that he accepts Remus' condition. Lyall
meanwhile, continues to stare hard at his son, a muscle twitching in his jaw.

"How did he find out?" Lyall grinds out and something flickers in Remus' expression.

"It was my fault", Sirius finds himself saying quickly, mouth moving of its own accord, "I
heard something and I went looking during the full moon".

The Lupins look even more alarmed and his heart beats frantically, hoping he hasn't made
this worse.

"But the locks", Hope starts, looking between them desperately, "Cuthrow is supposed to lock
the doors and padlock-"

"I uh, I picked them", Sirius says bluntly, deciding he's well and truly in it now, he might as
well be honest, "I thought an animal was hurt so I picked the locks".

The looks he gets are exactly what he expects. He stares back at Lyall's furious gaze, and
wills himself not to look away. Lyall turns back to his son, and snaps, "He didn't get bitten?
Scratched?"

Remus shakes his head but this doesn't seem to calm the situation any. Lyall throws down his
napkin and flexes his hands, eyes flashing.

"We talked about this", he says, voice dangerously quiet, "before you left for London. You
can't… Remus, lives are at stake. How could you let this happen?"

Incensed on Remus' behalf, Sirius snaps, "He didn't let anything happen, it was my fault. And
it worked out fine. I don't care, I don't care what he is".

“Sirius”, Remus catches his eye and shakes his head jerkily. This is his fight. He bites his
tongue, temper simmering just below the surface, but there’s no arguing with the stern look
on Remus’ face.

Lyall fixes him with that piercing stare. "He let you get too close and he knows what could
have happened", he turns back to Remus and says, imploringly, "please tell me he didn't tell
anyone. Please".

Sirius would feel offended being talked about like he's not even here, but his stomach sinks at
the answer he knows is coming.

Remus hesitates, and Lyall is already shaking his head as if he knows the answer, and Hope
stares wide eyed and horrified at her son.
"Sirius didn't tell anyone. But two of our friends found out. They won't ever breathe a word,
they're good people".

"Oh bach, what are you doing?" Hope whispers, covering her mouth with her hand.

Lyall doesn't wait for a response, he snaps, "What were you thinking? How careful we've
been all these years and you throw it all away".

"Like I said", Remus replies with a bite to his tone, "They're not going to tell anyone. They-"

"Oh, just like he wasn't going to tell anyone", Lyall growls, jerking his head in Sirius'
direction, "And I suppose they just happened to find out after he did. Your mother and I have
worked so hard, sacrificed everything to keep you safe. You're able to go off and get an
education because of what we gave up. I thought that meant something to you."

His words hit Remus like a physical blow, flinching and jerking back in shock. He recovers
quickly, voice sharp and low, "For the first time in my life, I can take a breath of air, not
having to keep this dirty little secret. That you always told me no one would ever be able to
accept, no one could love me the way I am. And they do, Sirius does! Can't you just be
happy?"

"We never said no one would love you", Hope objects, voice wavering.

Lyall stands abruptly and it's startling how tall he is in the tiny dining room, towering over
them all.

He glares down at his son, fists clenched at his sides. "We have only ever - ever - cared about
your safety! You know how badly this can end, you could kill him or your friends. And then
what? You get taken away for testing? For extermination?" His voice breaks on the last word
and Hope shakes her head, as if she can't bear the thought, "You really think you can trust
them?"

Remus glares back, back straight, hands clenched and jaw set. His stubbornness is a mirror of
his father.

"Yes. I can".

Silence settles over the table, interrupted only by the clucking of a chicken somewhere in the
yard. Remus and Lyall stare each other down until eventually the older man sighs, shaking
his head.

"You're putting your life in the hands of him ?" He nods in Sirius' direction, "I expected more
from you, never thought I'd see the day you let a pretty face cloud your judgement like this".

Remus gets to his feet abruptly and leans forward, staring him right in the eye.

" He treats me like a normal person. And he loves me despite what I am. I know you don't
think that's possible" Remus spits out, "but he does. And I trust that".

Lyall opens his mouth to respond, but Hope puts a hand on his forearm and he deflates.
"Okay. What's done is done. You're an adult", she says quietly, voice surprisingly steady as
she gazes up at her son, "this is your life. We'll be here for you no matter what, we just worry
for you, that in some way or another you're going to get hurt".

"That's my risk to take".

"I know", she replies, and her calmness eases some of the tension.

"I know", she repeats, nodding, before looking at Sirius, and he wants to look away, seeing
the tears in her eyes, "Thank you for being understanding. Just… please, be careful. Both of
you".

The tears spill down her cheeks and Lyall puts a gentle hand on her shoulder, suddenly tender
and soft where just a moment ago he was shaking with anger.

She wipes her face and shakes her head as Remus makes to reach for her. Her bottom lip
shakes as she tries to smile and fails, and she hastily gets to her feet.

"I'll be back", she says hurriedly, already making for the back of the house, "Sorry, love, I just
need a minute".

Lyall stares after her, frozen for a moment, before following hurriedly, and they can hear him
calling her name down the corridor, voice stretched tight in worry.

Sirius looks up at Remus uncertainly. He stares after his parents, looking terribly angry and
guilty. Lost. Sirius touches his arm and he starts, looking down.

"I er, sorry about that", he mutters, anger melting.

Sirius shakes his head, "Don't be. You alright?"

Remus nods and smiles but it doesn't reach his eyes. Sirius frowns.

"Come for a walk?" He offers, taking Remus' hand firmly. He doesn't wait for the nod, he just
pulls Remus out the back-door and into the hot sun, where crickets chirp and the empty
paddocks feel like the perfect backdrop for screaming at the sky.

They walk. Remus talks.

The fight with his parents opens a floodgate. He tells Sirius how it's always been this way,
whenever he gets close to anyone his parents worry and remind him that no one will
understand, it's not safe for him to tell anyone, and all the sacrifices they've made will be for
nothing if someone finds out. Making friends has always felt like betraying them. The
thought of dating was an invitation for a fight. He always feels so guilty that for a while he
didn’t let himself get close to anyone. The last time he was actually open about his life with
them was when he'd met Lily. He made the mistake of letting on how much he liked her, and
they'd responded with, "Are you sure that's a good idea?".
He couldn't live alone anymore, not in the way they thought he should.

Sirius listens. As Remus talks, things start falling into place. He realises where most of
Remus' reservations come from, why he resisted every step of the way while they were
dating. He was carrying so much guilt, just for wanting to have a normal life, as if it was a
crime, wanting to be loved for who he is. A niggling little voice in his head whispers that he'd
made Remus' worst nightmares come true when he'd broken his promise - people had found
out and the person he loved almost got hurt. In that moment, his parents were proven right.
His reaction makes more sense now, and he can't hold it against him.

"I'm sorry", Remus says tiredly, rubbing the back of his neck. "It wasn't supposed to happen
like this. I didn't mean for you to get caught in the middle".

Sirius looks over and offers him a shrewd smile, "Are you kidding? I feel like part of the
family now. Already had our first family fight. Plus, your Dad said I'm pretty, so it's not all
bad".

Remus huffs and smiles and his face looks lighter, like talking has released some of the guilt.

Sirius tugs his hand to stop walking. They've reached the shade of a tall, leafy tree in the
middle of a paddock, and it offers reprieve from the harsh sunlight. A breeze rustles the
leaves overhead and somewhere a cow lows. He steps closer. Sweat darkens Remus' shirt and
Sirius watches a bead of sweat trail down his neck. He firmly takes Remus' chin so he has to
look right into his eyes, no turning away, no running.

"You shouldn’t feel guilty. You're doing the right thing", he says firmly, staring right into the
brown eyes that find compassion for everyone but himself.

Remus frowns, like he doesn't agree or he wants to object and Sirius won't hear it. He pulls
him closer so their foreheads touch.

"I know they love you. It doesn't make them right".

Remus’ eyebrows draw closer together and the frown turns into something else. His face
flickers, emotions chasing each other, something raw and painful managing to fight its way
past his tight control.

Then he kisses him.

Sirius hums in surprise as a hand in his hair pulls him closer and Remus kisses him deeply,
like he's chasing his words. This is something new - this isn't the same Remus he arrived on
the train with. He's found pieces of himself back on the farm, shards buried in his parents, in
his old room, and he's putting himself back together a new man, who kisses Sirius openly and
unreservedly in the dappled sunlight, underneath a tree in an open field.

When they part, Remus runs his thumb over Sirius' bottom lip, looking for all the world as if
he wants to devour him. Slowly, reverently, savouring every bite.

Sirius shivers.
Remus steps back, taking his hand.

"Come on. I'll show you where they keep it".

"Keep what?" Sirius wonders, dazed.

"The cage".

Oh yes, right, the whole point of this trip. He forgot.

Remus leads him to an old barn that looks like it was built too many years ago. It creaks just
looking at it. Run down old farms give him the creeps, he decides, staring up at the dark,
empty windows.

Remus pulls open the door and the musty smell of hay hits them. They step inside and it
takes a moment for their eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness. As he blinks, Sirius sees the
shape of someone looming in the darkness. He jumps and sharply pulls Remus back, cursing
spectacularly.

Lyall steps out of the shadows and calmly ignores Sirius swearing under his breath.

"This is what you came for", Lyall nods at the cage he stands next to.

Sirius steps closer to see in the dim light from a dying overhead light bulb, and it's exactly
what it sounds like. A giant cage.

The bars are thick enough that his fingers only just overlap when he wraps a hand around it,
and it's so big that it almost reaches his chin. He can't imagine anything managing to break
out of it. There are shackles attached inside and he bends down to look at them. As he does,
he catches sight of another, smaller cage in the corner of the barn. The bars on one side are
bent outwards, like something burst from inside it. This is the point in the horror movie
where they play the foreboding, ominous music.

God, this place is fucking creepy.

He looks up at Remus through the bars of the cage, who is looking at his father.

"It won't hold you for long. What's wrong with the room Cuthrow made for you?" Lyall says
in a low voice.

"Nothing", Remus replies neutrally, "It's just an added precaution".

Lyall stares hard, and from this angle, Sirius can see the worry and pain in the lines of his
face.

"Whatever it is you're doing, please be safe. Be smart about it. This won't hold".

Remus pauses and then nods curtly.

"Sure you're okay if we take it back with the truck?"

Lyall looks disappointed, like he was hoping to talk him out of what he's planning. But he
nods.

"We've got the car. And McKinney has a truck he can loan me".

"Thanks Da", Remus says so quietly that it almost can't be heard over the creaking of the
barn around them.

Lyall nods again, looking like he wants to say something, fighting the words. Then he turns
and leaves.

It seems like the Lupin way of dealing with fights is to smile pleasantly, act like nothing
happened, and continue on. Hope smiles at them brightly when they come back in and she
tells them in a light voice that she put a fan in their room, apologising for how hot it gets. Her
smile is too fixed and her eyes are red, but she's just as sweet and chatty as before the
argument. Remus kisses the top of her head as he leans past her to get a cup from the
overhead cupboard, and her smile falters, bottom lip shaking. That seems to be the extent of
them talking about it.

Lyall appears again, carrying a heavy chain and tells them he'll need help getting the cage in
the tray of the truck.

They spend the afternoon winching the heavy cage onto the truck, sweating and burning in
the sun. He sees Lyall eyeing him as they work and he stares right back, lifting and pulling
the cage as hard as he can, trying to make it look like he's not trying at all.

It's a relief to retire to the room after a shower and a painfully polite, quiet dinner. Sirius
spends as long as he can sitting on the window frame, letting the breeze cool him down
before bed, having a sneaky cigarette while Remus is in the bathroom. He looks out across
the paddocks, illuminated by the soft moonlight, watching an owl fly past, beginning its hunt
for the night. Crickets chirp, frogs croak, and little creatures rustle through the grass, buzzing
and twittering. The night teams with life. A fox screams somewhere in the distance and he
drops his cigarette, cursing.

The countryside isn't for him, he decides.

He gets into bed eventually, kicking the covers down to the end of the bed so the fan can
reach his entire body. It's still hot.

He feels Remus climb in next to him and it makes it even hotter, and he grumbles under his
breath at the way everything is sticky with sweat. The double bed is definitely not made for
two grown men because no matter what he does, his bare arm is either stuck to Remus' or his
other is falling off the side.
He huffs and turns on his side. In the dim light of the moon he can see Remus smiling, eyes
closed.

"What?" He whispers, unsure of how far his voice will carry in this house.

Remus turns to look at him, eyes glinting and still smiling. It's unfair really, how easily he
manages to adapt to his surroundings. Like nothing bothers him. Flexible and agreeable to
Sirius' irritability and demanding.

"If only my sixteen year old self could see me now".

Sirius huffs his laughter into the pillow, muttering, "What, you've got a bloke all hot and
sweaty in your bed?"

"Painfully hot", Remus agrees, "sixteen year old me wouldn't believe his eyes".

Sirius grins and smooths his hair back in an exaggerated motion like he’s in a cologne
commercial, and it makes Remus huff with laughter.

His hand follows Sirius', stroking his hair back and Sirius lets his eyes shut, feeling fingertips
scratching lightly at his scalp. The hand pulls him forward, and the bed squeaks as his weight
shifts. Remus is suddenly so close, heat rolling off him in waves, all warm breath and sweaty
skin and God, he's missed him, missed how it feels to have his breath in his mouth when
they're fucking, faces pressed so close that he can feel Remus' climax in his hitching breath
before he feels it in his body.

Remus kisses him softly at first, and then deeper as he wraps his arms around him. The bed
creaks loudly as they shift closer and Sirius pulls back with a wince.

"Think they heard that?" He asks in a hushed whisper, and he can't see Remus' expression
properly but he sees the flash of his teeth as he grins.

"I don't know. I guess you'll just have to be quiet", he murmurs back, and it sends sparks
down Sirius' spine, even as he protests.

"Your parents are right th-"

"Be quiet then".

A hand trails down his bare chest and he stares in disbelief at Remus, whose face is thrown
into shadow. He's pushed back gently into the bed and it creaks a little again, and he bites his
lip as if he's the one making the noise. Remus kisses his neck slowly, and a part of him wants
to pull away because he's too hot and sweating even more now, but most of him aches to hold
him even closer. Remus' hand slips down his pants and he tries to be quiet, he really does, but
that hand knows him so well, what makes his eyes roll back in his head and what makes his
hips jerk, and he whimpers. Remus presses a warm hand firmly over his mouth and leans
over him, bed springs whining as he shifts his weight onto Sirius, and fuck, if this isn't
exactly what his dreams have been made of.
Remus shushes him, still grinning as if this is a game and he's winning by a landslide. His
hand moves slowly, just enough so it makes Sirius want to squirm in the sticky heat, but it's
not enough to make the bed creak.

He's fighting against his own body, which wants to thrust and jerk and moan with how much
he's missed Remus, shout it to the ceiling. But he grips the sheets tight to keep himself still
and quiet, breaths huffing through his nose heavily, getting faster as the hand speeds up, until
finally his head jerks back, letting out a strangled whimper as he shuts his eyes tight and feels
pleasure roll through his body.

The hand stays over his mouth for a minute, making sure he's done making noise, before
Remus pulls away and kisses him again. It's more frantic this time, even as Sirius responds
slowly, smiling softly at the pleasant hum in his head. He lazily reaches down and grips
Remus through his pants to find him rock hard. He grins against his mouth and receives an
impatient huff in response.

It doesn't take long, because apparently Remus has missed him too. He moves his hand as
quickly as he dares, encouraged by the hot, panting breath tickling his ear, and he tastes salt
and skin as he mouths at Remus’ jaw and neck. The way Remus grips his hair tightly to hold
him in place tells him he wants more than this, he wants him pinned and at his mercy, but this
is all he can do without making more noise. Sirius can’t help but grin as he nips at the taut
neck, intoxicated by how badly Remus wants him.

A sharp exhale of breath is the only warning he gets, and he quickly turns to hide Remus'
moan in a kiss, swallowing the sounds before they rise over the ambience of the night outside
and the fan rattling steadily.

Remus slowly untenses and breathlessly chuckles into the kiss. Sirius can't help but join in.
He feels like a teenager again, frantically fumbling in the dark, trying to be quiet and not
quite succeeding. The stress of the day fades and he tries to stifle Remus’ continued snickers
with more kisses, muttering into his mouth, "Shut up, I don't want them to hate me even more
for defiling their son under their roof".

Unfortunately this makes Remus laugh harder, and the bed creaks again as Sirius moves to
stifle the sound with his hand, hissing threats in Remus' ear. Remus hides his sweaty face in
Sirius' shoulder and it muffles the laughter somewhat, but their bodies shake with suppressed
laughter and it makes the bed creak rhythmically along with them, a rusty whining sound that
unmistakeably sounds like they're fucking.

They burst out laughing at the same time, and it definitely feels like they're teenagers now,
uncontrollably giggling late into the night over nothing during a sleepover. He repeatedly
whacks Remus with his own pillow, the movements making the bed creak more urgently, as
he hisses, "Shut the fuck up", through his own wheezing. Remus hides his face in the crook
of his elbow, shoulders still shaking, and pulls Sirius back down to lie next to him. Their
chuckles and the occasional snort trail off into comfortable silence in the dark, and it feels
like somehow he's taken a step back in time and met a younger, more carefree Remus. They
would have been friends, he thinks, if they'd been at school together. As different as they are,
he can't imagine knowing him and not wanting to spend every moment with him. No matter
where or when they might have met, he knows he would have fallen in love. In any life, he
would love him. This was inevitable, it would always be him.

Lying in the darkness, arms pressed against each other even though it's too hot to be touching,
he wonders if this is what people mean when they say they've found their soulmate.

—---

The goodbyes the next day are a strange mix of emotional and polite. Hope hugs them both
tightly, hurriedly wiping away tears as she turns away from Remus, as if she finds it hard to
look at him. Lyall shakes their hands and holds onto Remus a little longer than customary,
mouth grim and downturned, muscle in his jaw clenching as if biting down on what he wants
to say.

Remus doesn't wait, he waves them both off, smiling pleasantly and thanking them. Sirius
does the same and gets in the passenger side of the truck. As they drive down the dirt lane,
clouds of dust kicking up behind them, he sees Remus staring in the rearview mirror until the
two figures fade into the distance.

The heat is heavy in the cab of the truck, but it feels lighter leaving than when they arrived,
despite the cage strapped down underneath a tarp in the back.

They leave something behind in the creaky old house. Some type of weight that leaves
Remus' face brighter and less lined as they drive down narrow country lanes, rolling hills
whipping past and the smell of animals and fresh grass in their noses.

Something else leaves with them. Faith, trust. It feels like in inviting him, Remus has opened
a new kind of vulnerability, that says he's learning to trust him, he's really trying to fix things.
The fight that broke them up feels like it happened to two different people. Sirius examines
his profile for a minute. He can see both parents in Remus' features and he feels like he
knows him better for it.

He owes Remus the same. Although the trip to his own childhood will be nowhere as
pleasant, the fight between the Lupins included. He doesn't want to talk about it. But he
knows it's what they need to mend the last of the hurt between them.

Remus glances over, looking quizzically at his silent staring.

"Alright?"

"Yeah", Sirius takes a deep breath and stares ahead, out the dusty windshield, "Thanks for
inviting me. I'm really glad I came".

"Me too".
He nods, frowning down at his hands. "I think I get you more now. Where you're coming
from and why you do things the way you do. I guess I owe you the same".

Remus' silence urges him on. "I mean, you probably won't ever meet my biological parents,
and trust me, that's a good thing. But I can tell you about them, if you still want".

"Of course", Remus replies.

Sirius steels himself to talk about Walburga and Orion Black.

He starts from the beginning, explaining his parents' marriage was arranged for social and
financial gain, to keep the Black name strong and keep the family fortune in the bloodline.
For the first few years of his life he didn't know what love looked like. His parents never
loved each other, avoided each other actually, unless they had to make public appearances for
dinners with important politicians or charity balls. And they certainly never loved him, or if
they did, it faded once he could talk and think for himself.

He explains how he'd never lived up to their expectations, how he'd always been too
stubborn, too defiant, and how from early on, his mother had to find inventive ways of
dealing with him, once hitting wasn't enough. Talking about the basement is the worst. He
grits his teeth through the retelling because it makes him sound like such a wimp, but the
thought of the stifling pitch black of the basement still makes the hairs on the back of his
neck stand up. When he was particularly unruly, she would drag him kicking and screaming
down to the cold, dark basement and lock him in there for hours, sometimes whole days.
When he was only five or six, it terrified him. He thought he could see glowing eyes in the
pitch black and he would scream and throw himself against the door, begging to be let out,
promising to be good, anything to be saved from whatever lived down there. As he got older,
she couldn't physically force him down there anymore, and she resorted to sending his little
brother down there instead, to teach Sirius a lesson.

His voice falters when he talks about Regulus. Remembering his little face screwed up in
terror, begging him not to make Mum angry because he would be the one to be punished,
makes Sirius' stomach turn even to this day. The guilt lingers after all these years, it probably
will forever. He remembers the way his brother's grey eyes narrowed in blame when he was
finally allowed to leave the basement, giving him the cold shoulder for days because it was
his fault for disobeying, always defiant, always the cause of the family fighting. Eventually
Regulus turned his back on him as well to distance himself from the family problem, to
protect himself.

Remus doesn't interrupt, even though it looks like he wants to say something several times,
but Sirius barrels on, because it's easier to keep talking than having to stop and dwell on any
of it.

Losing Regulus was a turning point for him. He stopped trying to please his parents and
threw himself into being everything they hated, which also happened to be everything he
loved. He met James, and for the first time, someone didn't care about his name and liked him
for who he was. It made him happier. And it made his mother worse.
She got angrier as she saw her hold on him slipping, and she got even nastier. Gone were the
days she could force him into the basement, but she still slapped and beat him with fists, a
howling storm of rage, when he started coming home from school late, bringing with him
letters about detentions and reprimands about his conduct from teachers. He was shaming the
family name, embarrassing her, acting in a way that wasn't befitting his station in life. He
started doing it deliberately, shirking everything that marked him as part of the 'most Noble
House of Black'. He started wearing clothes inspired by his rock and punk idols, let his hair
grow longer, started smoking and even bought a motorbike when he was sixteen, which his
father promptly sent to be turned into scrap metal.

The more he resisted, the worse their fights got. She started removing 'privileges', like his
phone, his games, anything in his room that she could take that made his life easier. When
that didn't cow him, she took his clothes - one day when he was at school she raided his room
and removed everything not befitting a Black, leaving his room a bare, blank space with little
more than a bed and a few outfits that wouldn’t have been out of place at a country club. He
remembers standing at the doorway to the sterile, empty room, angry tears welling in his eyes
at the feeling of violation of her going through all his belongings, all the things he’d gathered
over the years that reflected his personality and having her deem them all worthless.

His whole family stopped talking to him at one point, and while it was nice for a while, it got
so lonely living in a house where people automatically left when he entered the room, and
pretended they didn’t hear him when he talked. He acted up just to get a response from her. It
hurt, to have her scream at him that she was at her wits end, she didn't know what to do with
him anymore and he was no son of hers, but at least he wasn't a ghost anymore, to be looked
through as if he wasn't there.

When he reaches the time that she found out he was gay, he has to stop and take a deep
breath. Fuck, he's never talked about this. James knows what happened, had pieced it
together, but he's never told anyone exactly what happened in the Black house that day.
Remus doesn't say anything, frowning hard at the road ahead, but he reaches over and slips
his hand into Sirius'.

He presses on.

He'd kissed Kendrick Dubois behind the sports building and his cousin Bellatrix had seen
them. She'd immediately told his mother, and his mother and father were waiting for him
when he got home from school. His giddiness vanished in a second when he saw them
standing at the bottom of the marble staircase, next to his packed suitcase. They’d given him
a choice, stay and start acting like a Black, or leave. If he stayed, he would marry Leticia, a
distant cousin, when he turned eighteen, and he'd keep far away from those kinds of men.
He'd inherit the family business and fortune, if he turned over a new leaf and left that poof
nonsense behind.

He told her to go fuck herself.

The last image he has of his family is his father throwing his suitcase onto the steps outside
the double doors of the manor, face screwed up in disdain, and his mother hissing at him not
to contact them ever again, and not to tell people they were related. The last thing she said to
him was if he ever thought of her as his mother, he would do her that one kindness to not
associate himself with them. Just before the doors shut, he saw Regulus watching from the
top of the staircase, arms folded and a blank look on his face. In one day he lost his home, his
family, his name, his future.

If it wasn't for James, he would have been homeless.

For the first time in what feels like hours, he smiles as he talks about how when James told
his parents what the Blacks had done, Mrs Potter had immediately dragged her husband over
to their manor to give them a piece of her mind. He doesn't know what she said to them, if
they even opened the door for her, but the thought of Mrs Potter pointing her finger in his
stuck up mother's face and reprimanding her still makes him laugh.

"They never made me feel guilty", he says quietly, still smiling at the thought of his adoptive
parents, "even though I came to them with nothing, they treated me like their own son. They
gave me the best of everything. I got in trouble just as much as James but they always… I
don't know, even when I made them angry they never hated me. They still talked to me, they
never pretended I wasn't there, they still gave me food and cared if I was upset. And James
was the best brother I could ever ask for. Like I know my childhood didn't start off great, but
they made it good. All the other stuff doesn't matter because they made me feel normal, like I
was just a normal kid".

He trails off, staring out the window and blinking as he actually sees the view for the first
time since he started talking.

They're almost back in London now, the highway starting to clog as they get closer to the
city. He glances at the clock on the dashboard. Surely he hasn't been talking that long. God,
Remus must be dying to listen to something else. He glances over worriedly. Remus still has
that same frown.

"Sorry, once I get going, it all just comes out", he says in a rush, "we can talk about
something else. I just wanted you to know. Y'know - what James was talking about. Now you
know I wasn't like bad touched or anything, they were just pricks who never should have had
kids, and I'm well shot of them now".

Remus' hand tightens around his and his frown deepens, which is the opposite of what he
intends to happen.

"I'm glad you told me", he says so firmly that it almost sounds angry and he softens his next
words as if he realises, "James is right, Sirius. Your parents treated you… a child never
deserves to be treated like that. I'm so sorry you had to go through that".

He shrugs and looks down at Remus' hand in his own.

"It wasn't as bad as it sounds, it's just when I say it all in one go like that. And to be fair, I
was a little shit, not that-".

"Nothing you ever could have done would warrant that. Honestly, they belong in jail".

Sirius frowns. "Bit dramatic".

Remus takes a deep breath before saying calmly, "If you saw a child being treated the way
you were, would you think they must be badly behaved? Or would you call child services?"

He shifts uncomfortably. Why is it so fucking hot? He's already done with this summer and
it's barely started.

"I don't know, Remus", he grumbles, "It's not like they ever did anything in front of anyone".

"Which means they knew it was wrong".

His palms are sweaty and he pulls away from Remus' hand to wipe his hands on his jeans. He
winds the window down lower, desperate for more air, but they're stuck in traffic now and the
breeze has slowed

"Obviously they knew it was wrong", he snarls, itching to lash out, "and I know it was
wrong. I'm not stupid. I don't get why it's so important to label it as child abuse or whatever.
Not like anyone can do anything about it now".

Remus is silent for too long and the stony look on his face tells him he's fighting with himself
to remain calm. God, what's he mad at him for? He didn't fucking ask for this.

"It matters how you see it", Remus explains, voice tight, "because none of it was your fault
and I need you to understand that. None of it".

He pauses. It dawns on him that the anger that tightens Remus' voice is aimed at his parents,
not him. Something loosens in his chest. He rolls his shoulders, unaware that he'd been
tensing.

"Okay, yeah", he replies, a little calmer, "Look, it's not like I go around every day, crying
because Mum was mean to me. I just don't see the point in making my whole life about it. It
happened, I moved on. I just wanted you to know because I met your parents and this is as
close as it gets to meeting mine".

"It does help", Remus agrees, "I think I do understand you better. And I'm sorry for asking
you to leave the way I did. I get what James was saying now, and I wish I could take it back,
making you leave like that".

"Uh, thanks I guess", he mutters. Fuck, not this topic again.

"It won't happen again", Remus insists, "I promise. No matter what happens, I won't ever
withdraw from you like that again. We'll talk things out, whatever we have to do. You can
always come home to me".

The words settle in his chest and it's warm in a different way to the stifling heat in the air. He
takes a deep breath.

"Okay".

The car comes to a stop as traffic gridlocks ahead of them. Remus turns to look at him and
Sirius fidgets under the piercing gaze.
 "Thank you for telling me. I mean it. I know it can't have been easy".

He shrugs, fiddling with the radio knob.

"Easier that it's you I'm telling", he says. It's true. There are few people on this earth he would
willingly tell all this to. James is one, Remus is the only other.

Remus reaches over and strokes his cheek with the back of his hand. He leans into it, even
though Remus is unpleasantly hot against his already overheated skin.

It's easier to accept the touch than words, and Remus seems to know this. He palms his cheek
and something in Sirius quiets, the neverending whirlwind of energy in his chest stilling.
Remus says everything in the simple touch.

I'm not going to hurt you like that again.

Sirius believes him.

Chapter End Notes

As always, much love to everyone who is still reading. Please let me know if you have
any feedback as I'm really trying to improve my writing :)
 Chapter 10
Chapter Notes

Feelings. So many feelings.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

They arrive back at the apartment late in the afternoon, dragging their feet and their clothes
sticking to them with sweat. Sirius' head pounds, everything getting on his nerves, but he's
too drained to snap like he usually would, instead sinking into a brooding silence.

Remus doesn't seem to take it personally and he's grateful. Today was a lot. Remus takes the
bags and says he'll take care of dinner, gently nudging him to go have a cool shower.

Part of him wants to wallow. Now that he's actually let himself think about his parents, it's all
he can do. It's like picking at a scab - he knows it'll make things worse but he can't stop. His
mind replays the fights, the silent, lonely days being ignored, the days that he was unloved
and unwanted. He tries to imagine seeing them for the first time as an outsider, looking in on
a kid tormented by his own home. Memories look different from this new angle. Shocking.
Painful. He can't help but replay them over and over, as if the images will change, go back to
making sense, where the way he was treated was awful, but partly his fault so it couldn't be
abuse, not if he could have stopped it by just obeying.

The cool water helps. It's distracting, it feels good after the cloying heat of the drive. It brings
up memories of cannon bombing into the lake at the Potters' holiday home, the sun glaring
overhead and Mr Potter's laugh ringing out across the water as he watches James and Sirius
try to dunk each other. Mr Potter, who taught him to fish that summer, and tried to give him
advice on girls, before correctly reading Sirius' discomfort, and smoothly switching to male
pronouns, as easily as talking about the weather.

He stands directly under the cold spray, hands braced against the tiles. If he stays long
enough he can almost believe he's submerged in the lake, where for one summer, everything
was good.

When he comes out, it's almost dark. Remus is at the dining table, scribbling in a book. His
hair hangs down in front of his eyes as he hunches over, and he probably thinks he's due for a
cut, but Sirius hopes he keeps it this length.

Remus looks up as he walks in, closing the book and sliding it aside.

"You hungry?"
Sirius nods. Now that he's not boiling to death, he's ravenous. Like spilling out all his secrets
has left him empty.

"I got Indian. The place that you like on the corner", Remus says brightly, standing and
stretching his back with a wince.

The thanks are caught in his throat, and he hates himself for not wanting to talk because
Remus is being so sweet and understanding and everything that Remus always is when he
needs it. But his silence isn't held against him, he just silently fixes Sirius a plate while he
leans back against the counter, hovering, biting at the skin on his lips.

He eats in silence. The food is fucking terrific. It's his favourite - chicken vindaloo from the
place around the corner that doesn't skimp on the spice or meat. The chilli makes his eyes
water and nose run, and the heat of it pulls him out of the past. He emerges from the well of
memories enough to chuckle at his own sniffling, and Remus looks over from the sink where
he's washing the dishes.

"Too spicy?"

He shakes his head. His mouth burns and he no longer feels hollow.

"It's good", he replies, smiling in relief, "It's my favourite."

Remus turns back to the sink, smiling.

"I know."

—----

Lily and James meet them at the Shrieking Shack the next night to check the building out and
make sure it's secure enough for the transformation. Sirius and Remus drive over with the
cage still in the back of the truck, so they can take it into the observation room after checking
it all out. They still haven't figured out how they're going to get it in, but one thing at a time.

Sirius gets out of the truck, looking up at the dark building, almost obscured by the vines
crawling over the chainlink fence around the perimeter, dozens of dark windows staring back
down at him. It's not as big as he expected, only a few storeys high, and while it’s long been
abandoned, it looks like it's in decent condition from this distance. It's well hidden down a
long avenue, in an industrial area, lined by sycamour trees, so it's out of the way of passing
traffic. Isolated enough that any howls won't draw attention.

They walk around the perimeter, following the sounds of Lily and James' voices.

As they approach, they hear James grumbling, "I can't believe you came here by yourself.
This is exactly the sort of place where someone gets tortured and murdered in a horror
movie."
Lily's voice replies brightly, "Well now I've got you with me. If we get chased by a serial
killer I'll trip you so they get you instead."

Neither have noticed them approaching and Sirius sees an opportunity. He tugs Remus to a
stop behind a tree and holds a finger up to his lips. Remus watches, bemused, as he darts
away between the trees, towards their friends, stepping lightly so as not to be heard.

"Wow, you're not even going to give me a chance to fight them?" James says incredulously.

"I've seen the stupid movies you and Sirius watch - the guy with the glasses always trips and
loses his glasses, and gets killed just as he finds them. I'll take my chances by myself."

James’ back is turned on the trees as he stares up at the looming building, and Lily faces him,
looking up at him with fond amusement. Sirius pokes his head out from behind a tree and
holds a finger to his lips as she jumps at seeing him. He slips back behind the tree as James
whips his head around.
“What?”

“Oh… nothing. Thought I saw something”, Lily says dismissively, voice slightly higher,
“Anyway, it’s ghosts you should be worried about here."

“Pfft”, James scoffs, “You don’t believe in ghosts."

“I don’t know, there’s some really eerie stories about this place. Stuff that can’t be
explained”, she insists mysteriously, with the air of a bad fortune teller, as Sirius creeps
behind a bush. James is right in front of him now, hidden behind foliage, and he catches a
glimpse of Lily’s mouth twitching from between the leaves and branches.

“Like what?” James says sharply.

She opens her mouth just as a scratching, crackling sound makes them both snap their heads
towards the trees in the other direction. From where he crouches, Sirius can see Remus still
standing behind the tree, slowly dragging a stick down the trunk of the tree. He catches
Sirius’ eye and grins.

“What was that?” James hisses, pulling Lily behind him. Remus stops and the silence is
deafening, Sirius can practically hear James’ heart thudding. He inches closer, reaching
through the foliage.

“Maybe we should-ARGHHH”

James’ shriek tears through the night as Sirius grabs his ankle and pulls hard. He has to jump
back as James kicks the bush, and he falls sideways, rolling on the ground, cackling. James
looks down at him in shock, frozen with his fists held up like he’s ready to box, eyes wide
and leaves clinging to his leg from assaulting the bush. He deflates as he sees it’s just Sirius
clutching his stomach and roaring his laughter at the stars. Lily is bent over, mouth open in a
silent scream of laughter and there’s a wheeze coming from the trees where Remus stands.

James glares around at them all but his eyes narrow when he looks at Sirius.
“Are you fucking mental?! I almost kicked your fucking head in-”

“Nah, you were about to square up with Casper, I fucking can’t”, Sirius manages through his
laughter.

Remus emerges from the trees, grinning ear to ear, and James’ eyes widen, pointing at him
accusingly, “You! You’re supposed to be a good influence! Control your stupid, bloody
boyfriend."

Remus chuckles, turning to accept Lily’s hug, where she hides her hiccoughing laughter in
his chest, “You’ve got good aim, I’ll give you that. The bush stood no chance."

Sirius rolls to his feet, dusting himself off and shaking leaves out of his hair, as James
grumbles under his breath, “Try it again and you’ll both find out."

He slings his arm over James’ shoulders and smiles widely at the glower he receives.

“Missed you, Jamie”, he says, half joking.

“Hmmph”, James replies, but he doesn’t shove him off.

“Shall we?” Remus jerks his head at the Shrieking Shack, which somehow looks less
ominous now that the night has been filled with laughter.

Lily leads them through a slash in the fence, hidden from sight by the thick vines.

“How’d you know where to get in?” Sirius asks incredulously, looking back as the opening
disappears behind them, once again invisible to the unknowing eye.

“Bolt cutters”, she says simply, strolling ahead.

“Hot”, he concludes and she turns back to grin at him as James gapes in shock.

“For legal purposes, I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that”, he mutters, hurrying to catch up with her
as she strides up the steps to the clear, double doors of the entrance.

It’s pitch black inside and they all take out torches. Lily has brought the white LED camping
torch that belongs to James’ parents, and it chases the shadows, illuminating the entire foyer.

She was right - the hospital seems almost undisturbed. It has an odd, frozen in time feeling to
it. The decor is composed of the dusty pink colour used everywhere in the 90s, and the
curling linoleum is gritty with dirt and dust underfoot. There’s a musty smell of damp in the
air and their footsteps echo eerily as they traipse down the hall, following Lily’s red hair.
James falls into step beside Sirius and Remus speeds up to walk beside Lily, who loops their
arms together comfortably. Sirius glances in each room as they pass them, torch shining in
the corners quickly, and glancing behind to make sure nothing moves, but it really is
abandoned, and the further they go without signs of people the easier he breathes.

“She came here by herself. That's so… metal”, he mutters to James, glancing ahead where
Lily walks with purpose, back straight and unbothered by the dark rooms on either side.
“She’s a bit mental, yeah”, James whispers agreeably, mishearing, and Sirius doesn't bother
correcting him.

They’re quiet for a moment, the sounds of their steps reverberating loudly. Then James leans
closer and murmurs, “How was Suffolk?”

Sirius glances up at Remus’ back, where he cranes his head down to hear whatever Lily is
whispering.

“It was… good. A lot. But good”, he decides.

James’ glasses glint in the torchlight as he turns to look at him, “A lot?”

Sirius nods, choosing his words carefully, “It makes more sense now, meeting his parents.
They’re nice but… well, I mean, they had custom cages made for their kid. They’re not
exactly a normal family."

James hums, looking ahead at Remus’ back, frowning. He seems to accept that Sirius doesn’t
want to say more on the topic, but words bubble in Sirius’ throat. He doesn’t want to talk
about his own parents again, he’s talked about them enough in the last few days to last him a
lifetime. But James knew them, met them a few times, when Sirius had invited him over
while they were out, and they’d come home unexpectedly early. He met the public versions
of Walburga and Orion, with their fixed smiles and cold, dismissive condescensions. But the
fact that he met them at all somehow helps Sirius solidify his new view of them, like he can’t
have made it all up because James remembers them too.

He gathers his resolve and says in a rush, “I told him about them. About my parents,
everything."

The light from James’ torch bounces wildly as he turns sharply. Sirius winces as it shines in
his eye and James points it away hurriedly.

“You alright?”

He nods. Their shoulders bump.

“Yeah… I hated it. I still hate talking about it. But it was good I think. It helped."

James doesn’t say anything. He hooks an arm over Sirius’ shoulders. It’s awkward, because
he’s shorter than Sirius, but the weight is good, and he doesn’t push him away like he might
have in the past. The welcoming silence beckons him to continue.

“He said the same thing as you”, he ventures cautiously, trying to sound casual and failing,
“said none of it’s my fault. Reckon I mustn’t have told it properly then. You remember what I
was like."

James frowns. “I remember a kid. No kid deserves that, doesn’t matter what they do."

“Yeah, he said that too”, Sirius frowns down at his boots.

They reach a crossroad of hallways, and Lily leads them off to the left. Sirius is still stuck on
James’ words. He wants to argue. He knows he’s right. Remus said the same thing and he
trusts them both enough to know they must be right. James keeps his arm around his
shoulders, even though it makes them bump into each other awkwardly when they walk, only
pulling away when Lily comes to a stop in front of two doors, separated by only a metre or
so.

“This is it."

She opens the door on the right and they trail in behind her. Even though he’s expecting it, he
still jumps when his own reflection looms out of the darkness of the one way mirror,
torchlight bouncing off the surface. James snorts behind him but he doesn’t retaliate because
he figures he owes him that one.

The room is roughly the size of a modest bedroom, although it looks bigger because one wall
is almost entirely mirror. His own face stares back at him, half in darkness. Remus raps his
knuckles against the mirror, frowning. He turns to James and Sirius.

“Can you go around the other side? I want to know how much we can hear from this side."

They spend a good hour testing the integrity of the room. Remus goes back and forth
between the rooms, face grim and frowning at the muffled shouts from James and Sirius. The
glass swallows most of the sound, but if they shout they can be heard from the room where
the transformation will be. They reassure Remus that they'll be as quiet as possible on the full
moon, but his frown doesn't completely disappear. They examine the door to the room, and
while the heavy wood is still intact and the lock working, Remus wants to board it up on the
night. Sirius point blank refuses.

"What if something happens to you? A reaction to the silver or the meds? We won't be able to
get in, you'll be-"

"You're not supposed to get in", Remus argues, arms crossed and frowning, "none of you are
to get anywhere near me. I don't care what the reaction is, it's too dangerous."

Sirius cranes his head back and growls at the ceiling. It's the same argument over and over
again.

"I'm not just going to stand there and watch you-

"You absolutely will, if it's going to endanger any of you to help", Remus says sharply,
"That's the condition of us doing this. You agreed to this."

Sirius turns and paces. He glances around the room, eyes sliding over James and Lily
watching worriedly, not really seeing anything but determined not to look at Remus, because
sometimes he makes him want to scream.
Remus continues, stubborn and relentless, "You have to stop thinking of it as me, Sirius.
When I'm transformed it's not me, it's a vicious animal who'll kill you without hesitation-"

"No it's not! Not if the meds have worked-"

"And we don't know if they have, so until we do, you need to be careful. Nobody comes in
the room", Remus turns to address the room at large, "Not for anything."

Lily and James murmur their agreement and Sirius stops pacing. He glares at them but they
both stare back, unwavering. He's outnumbered. He nods jerkily and Remus unfolds his arms.
Sirius turns away from him. It's childish, but he can't look at him right now. The fire inside
him urges to lash out, fanned by old insecurities and anxieties. But a quiet voice in his head
that sounds suspiciously like James says Remus is right - he can't endanger their friends over
this, especially if he doesn't even know if he'll be able to help Remus if he does have a bad
reaction. It doesn't make it easier.

He sees James and Lily in the mirror giving each other meaningful looks before they silently
leave the room, and Remus approaches cautiously. The hand on his shoulder is gentle but he
stiffens.

"Talk to me", Remus says simply, soft and open and welcoming.

Sirius looks at his own reflection. His face is fuller and his colour has come back since fixing
things between them. Even so, the half of his face that he can see in the torchlight is haunted,
scowling. Losing Remus for a few months devastated him. Losing him forever is
unthinkable. Remus steps closer, warm behind his back, waiting patiently. The silence
stretches on and Sirius' body is filled with nettles, everything he tries to say stings in his
mouth and his jaw refuses to unclench. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. Pulls one
phrase out of the bundle of tangled thoughts and feelings, the one that screams in his head the
loudest.

He grinds out, "I can't lose you again."

Remus wraps arms around him, loosely holding him so he can pull away if he wants. Their
eyes meet in the mirror, warm honey brown to cool stone grey. The calmness in his face
somewhat eases the tension in Sirius’ shoulders.

"That's the only certain thing in this life", Remus says and it's exactly the opposite of what
Sirius needs to hear right now. He snarls and immediately tries to pull away but the arms
tighten and Remus continues, "but I'd rather go this way, trying to get rid of this curse, so we
can have a long life together."

Sirius pauses, glaring, silently demanding that he say something else, anything else, because
this is not comforting.

Remus rests his chin on his shoulder, continuing quietly, almost absent mindedly like he's
somewhere else in his head, "I want to spend the rest of our lives together and this is our best
chance. I want to travel with you, be dragged around to all the places you've ever wanted to
go, and see you living the life you've always wanted. The life you deserve."
Sirius stares, frozen, and Remus continues as if he hasn't just completely floored him in those
few sentences, "And of course, we'll argue and bicker because you've got a temper and I
know I overthink, which frustrates you - you're so impatient, Sirius. There's no one on this
earth that gets on my nerves like you do. So we'll end up fighting but we’ll work it out, and
then do it all over again until we get it right. And I want that, Sirius, I want you at your best
and your worst and I can't wait. I can't wait to do this with you forever. So you have to let the
night take its course. You can’t try to save me, no matter what happens - we’ve come too far
to back out now. I’m ready for this to work, and if it doesn’t and I have a bad reaction… well,
I’m ready for that too."

The word 'forever' hangs heavy in the room, like a physical presence. It echoes in his head,
inviting visions of Remus with his hair equal parts grey and brown, lined face smiling as he
makes coffee in the morning, and he's filled with such an intense fondness that it chases
words from his mind, left only with the ache of want. He wants that forever too.

He has no words, but he gives his answer by leaning back into the embrace, held by the
promise of forever, and nods. His chest is still a tangle of thorns.

They spend the next hour dragging the cage down the long hallways and around narrow
doorways, to the observation room. It's not as bad as expected, because they pull it along on
the tarp and with all four of them, it moves quickly. James and Lily don't mention the
argument, and Sirius is grateful.

As they position the cage in the room, James crouches down to peer at the shackles, pushing
his glasses up his sweaty nose.

"Blimey, it's like a medieval torture device", he says bluntly and Sirius tries not to wince.

"Have you figured out how to add the silver?" Lily asks James, tapping her fingers on the
thick metal thoughtfully. They've all agreed that James should handle the silver - even with
all their resources combined their uni student budgets won't buy them enough silver, but a
small loan from the Potters' vast wealth should cover it

"I'm working on it", James grumbles.

Lily quips, "Just melt down your baby crib. Or was it made of gold? Can't remember."

"Nah, tell Daddy you need some new shoes", Sirius adds, catching her eye as they both lean
on the cage, grinning.

James looks away and grumbles something under his breath.

On the way out of the building, dragging their feet and yawning, James pulls him aside.

"I'm going to tell Mum and Dad I need money for a wedding", he whispers without preamble,
glancing past Sirius' shoulder where Lily and Remus are examining how secure the front door
is.

Sirius gapes.

"You mean…?"

James nods and Sirius shines the torch right in his face to see his expression clearly. He
squints, smacking it away, but it's long enough to illuminate his nervous excitement.

"Yeah, I've thought about it for ages. I've got the money for the ring, I already know which
one I'm getting. But they'll throw the money at me, no questions asked, if they think I need it
for the wedding."

Through his shock, Sirius' stomach squirms uncomfortably.

"You're going to use the money for the silver?"

James shrugs, "There're more important things than flower arrangements and a giant cake.
Lily won't mind, I know she won't. She just wants him to be okay. Besides, I'll save more
myself and give her whatever sort of wedding she wants."

Sirius doesn't have words. He pulls him into a tight hug and it's returned immediately. James
squeezes him so tightly that he regrets holding back from him all these years, not hugging
him enough or telling him how much he means to him. He hopes this says it all.

They pull apart before Remus and Lily see and grin at each other.

"I'm happy for you. She's…", Sirius glances back at the red head, frowning and nodding
seriously at something Remus says. She's equal parts fierce and kind, selfless, with an
unshakable sense of right and wrong that both intimidates and impresses him. A surge of
fierce loyalty and love floods his chest.

"She's special", he says simply, adding with a grin, "and you'll never be bored."

James looks down and smiles, toeing at a loose tile with his shoe.

"I know. I've known for a long time. I picked the ring after our third date. She stopped to look
at this ring in a shop window and I knew it then. I've put deposits down monthly ever since."

Sirius stares. "You never told me", he says in disbelief. If someone had told him five minutes
ago that there was something James Potter hadn't told him, he'd have asked if it was a secret
crush on the pretty teacher from Matilda. Which, of course, he's always known. Because he
knows everything about his best friend. James is his constant; comfortable in a way that a
person can only be when you know them so deeply.

James’ smile turns shy, his shrug jerky, "I don't know, it seemed stupid. I couldn't explain
how I knew, I just knew. I didn't want to sound crazy."

"She rejected you four times, of course I think you're crazy."

"Yeah but you get it now", James counters softly, "You and him - you get it, right?"

Sirius swallows, looks back at Remus. He’s so much taller than Lily, practically dwarfs her,
but he hunches so he doesn’t tower over her, making himself smaller for her comfort.
Thoughtful, kind, even when he thinks no one is watching. Sirius tries to suppress his smile,
hates how clearly he wears his infatuation on his face, but he can’t help it.

"Yeah, I get it."

He turns back to look down at James fondly. He's sure there's nothing he's ever done in his
life that has ever come close to deserving James Potter.

"Thanks", he says hesitantly, "for doing this for him. For both of us."

James leans an arm on his shoulder and they slowly walk over to Lily and Remus, who are
glancing over at them curiously.

"Of course", James says brightly, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, "He's one of
us now."

—---

The full moon creeps closer, inevitable, inescapable, colouring everything they do with the
knowledge that they'll have to face it sooner or later.

They've made modifications to the Shrieking Shack over the last few weeks, boarding up
windows and doors just in case the wolf gets out. It won't. The cage is indestructible and
James has lined the bars on the sides and top with silver. There's no way anything would be
able to get past their safeguards, he's so sure. Remus still worries. Sirius often catches him
staring into the distance, frozen, like he's running through all the things that could go wrong,
all the versions of the night where someone gets hurt.

He distracts him in the most effective way he knows. He kisses him slowly, coaxing him out
of his thoughts with gentle, lingering touches. Lips on his jaw, sliding down his neck, he’s
sure he could feel the pulse quicken beneath his tongue if his own wasn’t thrumming through
his body, drowning out everything but the feel of skin beneath his lips and fingers.

Remus responds surprisingly quickly, hands sliding into his hair and under his clothes,
alternating rough and gentle, stroking touches, as if he just wants to feel him underneath his
hands in every way he can.

It’s different this time. Once they started having sex months ago, they’d been like teenagers,
unable to keep their hands off each other after holding back for so long, and the sex was
rough and frantic, clawing, earth shattering. But it’s not like that this time. It’s not about lust
or chasing an orgasm.
He takes the time to run his lips and tongue all over Remus’ chest and stomach, keeping his
touch gentle until he can’t take it any more, biting and sucking at the inside of his thighs
where all he can smell is Remus and sex and want. He pauses to slow himself down, staying
in the moment where Remus lies beneath him, glowing in the soft lamplight of the bedroom -
is it theirs again? It feels like it always was - his face still tight and concerned. Sirius resolves
to fix that.

Remus is hard already, despite his continued worry, and Sirius knows he needs this, because
he can feel it too; the need to be close and intimate, wrapped so tightly in each other that
nothing else exists, just the feeling of good that they find in each other’s bodies. He takes his
time, running the flat of his tongue along his cock, drawing all of Remus’ desire and heat to
follow him. Sucking him into his mouth wrings a strangled noise from Remus’ throat, and
heavy lidded eyes watch him closely, the faraway look in his eyes replaced by intensity. He
burns to keep Remus in this moment, so all he knows is the feel of his mouth and the sight of
him between his thighs.

He alternates between sucking at him slowly and sliding up his body to grind against him,
arms braced on either side of his head and mouthing at the corner of his lips, because Remus
is too far gone to kiss back, head tipping back, arching, clutching at his back and shoulders.
When Sirius reaches down to press between his cheeks, Remus promptly lifts his legs, baring
himself for him. He’d half expected an eye roll or an admonishment followed by being
flipped onto his own back, because Remus doesn’t do this often. They both have a preference
but this is what they both need tonight, slow and intimate, Remus guiding him to take him to
pieces. Sirius thrills at the opportunity.

Remus arches into him so beautifully when he takes him that he’s astonished. Seeing him like
this is intoxicating, asking and taking where he usually gives - always giving Sirius what he
needs. He pours everything he has into him. Sirius keeps the thrusts slow, rolling his hips
deliberately, focusing on grinding upwards in slow, searching movements rather than his own
pleasure.

Remus bucks sharply, a cry ripped from his throat, “Fu-UCK-Sirius-”, and it’s the sweetest
sound Sirius has ever heard.

“That’s it, baby”, he pants, can’t help his grin as he grinds into that spot, “I’ve got you. Let it
go.”

He chases it, staring transfixed as Remus throws his head back, eyes shut tight. He’s
gorgeous. In this way and every other way. Tawny brown hair sticking to his forehead,
eyelashes pressed tightly into his cheeks, skin beautifully flushed and warm to touch, and
eyebrows drawn together in that perfect way that says he’s completely engulfed in pleasure,
not a single brain cell spared for worrying or stress. Beautiful.

He deepens the thrusts and Remus practically snarls at him, clutching and pulling and
demanding. Honey brown eyes snap open and a hand slides into Sirius’ hair, which hangs
down, tickling Remus’ face. It grips tight and Sirius hisses at the pull on his scalp. Brown
eyes hold him in their gaze, as fiercely and sure as the grip in his hair.
“Don’t stop, don’t you dare stop”, Remus growls, and Sirius would be a fool to ever think
that Remus would relinquish his hold on him, give up that control completely. He bows his
head to focus, loathes to look away but he won’t be able to continue much longer with Remus
looking the way he is, so he sucks kisses into the pale neck instead, breaths huffing against
the sweaty skin as he quickens his thrusts. When Remus comes, he does so silently. But it’s
not for lack of intensity.

His head snaps back sharply, mouth slightly open in a silent groan, breath stuttering, thighs
clenching around Sirius' waist, and it's beautiful, so beautiful - Sirius is under a spell, floating
in the moonlight watching Remus come apart.

He's snapped out of the spell by Remus' grasping hand pulling his head back painfully,
another other hand finding its way around his neck. The slight squeeze around his throat as
Remus’ entire body continues to jerk and tense sends Sirius tumbling over the edge, shaking,
shouting out in surprise as his orgasm hits him with a ferocity that’s somehow tied to the grip
on his throat.

Collapsing into each other is almost as satisfying as the sex. The walls have dropped, the
nervousness and anticipation of the full moon obliterated and all that’s left is warm skin and
aching muscles and smiling into lazy kisses. They find themselves and each other again, and
maybe this is what making love looks like - a concept Sirius has always scoffed at but he
can't stop running fingers along Remus' cheek and neck and there's prickling behind his eyes
and at the back of his throat that are inexplicable unless it's love.

They spend the night before the full moon this way, even though Remus’ body aches as it
usually does, even though it takes them longer to get things going because the stress and
distractions claw deeper at them. They take refuge in each other. When Remus straddles him
and rides him to completion, holding his wrists down and taking what he wants as his head
tips back beautifully, body glowing silver in the moonlight, Sirius can’t help but think this is
it. This is forever. There is nothing else.

—---

It’s a relief to arrive at the Shrieking Shack for hopefully the last time. The evening thrums
with the sounds of crickets and birds, warm and pleasant and certainly not the sort of evening
that forebodes danger. They arrive before James and Lily, and they wait outside the front
doors, the air thick with anticipation.

Remus checks the doors for the hundredth time, making sure they're secure, and Sirius can't
watch. He turns his back and looks up at the sky where the full moon hangs faded, not yet at
its full strength. Remus must be feeling it though - even with his new medication he hasn't
eaten today, and stayed in bed late into the day, huddled beneath the covers. Sirius glares at
the moon. Not for the first time he wishes he could blow it out of the sky. Consequences be
damned, he'd tear it from the sky with his bare hands, fingers raw and bloodied if only
Remus wouldn’t have to go through this anymore.
It thrums in his chest, the hate, the resentment, the anger that someone so kind and
compassionate and ultimately good suffers like this, when someone like himself, short
tempered, selfish, and deeply flawed, walks around unburdened. He crosses his arms, feels
the blood thumping in his chest underneath them, and when Remus returns to his side to wait
for James and Lily, he wants to walk away, to run, to scream. But there he is, warm and
golden, even when he's clearly worried, offering Sirius a reassuring smile. Always offering,
and Sirius always taking.

He unfolds and in a second he's buried in Remus' chest. Arms wrap around him instantly as if
he’s been expecting it, and he knows Remus feels it too.

The heavy, sinking feeling of danger, something in the very air that threatens to rip them
apart. And he won't, he won't be pulled away from him again.

He breathes deeply, cinnamon and earth in his nose, his lungs, his heart. The warmth of his
chest under his cheek, the heart that beats beneath just a fraction too quickly. A kiss pressed
to his head that lingers, like Remus is breathing him in too, memorising how he feels in his
arms.

"You're gonna be fine", Sirius grinds out through gritted teeth.

"Of course", Remus agrees, holding him tighter.

The rumble of James' car pulling up outside the fence drowns out the sounds of summer and
the arms around him loosen, but Sirius presses closer for one more minute, eyes shut tight.
He'd crawl under his skin if he could.

The fence clinks and voices chatter and he tears himself away, fists clenched and jaw set.
Why does this feel like goodbye?

"Alright, lads?" James calls, ducking through the fence, closely followed by Lily.

Remus clears his throat and smiles, hands in his pockets like he hasn't got a care in the world,
while Sirius feels like his own is coming to a slow, painful end.

"Not bad. Got everything?" Remus calls back.

James doesn't meet Remus' eyes when he nods, face grimmer than usual. Lily too is more
subdued, and the hug she gives Remus lingers entirely too long. Sirius watches his hand
tenderly stroke through her long hair and has to turn away as an insane flare of jealousy burns
through him before he reels himself in. He's really losing it tonight.

James nudges his shoulder in a knowing way.

"Let's go then. Sooner it'll be over, right?"

They triple check the room and the cage, and it's as secure as they could make it with what
little tools they had (borrowed from James' father, of course). They set up in the observation
room - flasks of coffee, laptops, chairs, and even an inflatable mattress, even though Sirius
knows he won't be sleeping. Through the glass he sees Remus and James examining the cage
one more time, and he watches curiously as they whisper furiously to each other about
something. James frowns and shakes his head at something Remus says, and suddenly Remus
grabs his arm.

Sirius straightens, frowning. The look on Remus' face is intense, almost threatening, and
James looks as upset as he's ever seen him. He steps towards the door to ask what's going on
but it's over as soon as it started, whatever it is. James nods curtly, yanks his arm away and
stalks out of the room, hands in his pockets. Remus stares after him for a moment, expression
unreadable, before running his hands over the back of his neck, wincing. It must be time. The
altercation slips to the back of Sirius’ mind, chest tightening as Remus clutches at his
stomach, face pulled tight in a grimace.

He hurries into the room, reaching for him, but Remus backs away.

"It's almost time", he groans, hands flexing, face crumpling, "I've gotta-."

He bends over, leaning on the cage for support. Sirius pushes the protesting hands out of the
way and helps him out of his clothes, leaving him only his underwear, and hates himself as he
leads him into the cage.

The manacles click over his ankles and wrists with a solid, reverberating sound that he's sure
will haunt him forever. Remus runs his hands over them, making sure they're secured tight, as
they're designed to expand only to the size of the wolf’s limbs and no further. Sirius can’t
help but think of Remus’ parents in that moment, who designed this cage and restraints for
him. It turns his stomach more.

He crouches in the cage beside him, under the pretence of checking the bars and silver, but
his eyes never leave Remus' face.

The pain in his eyes tears a hole in Sirius’ throat and there's nothing he can say, nothing that
would make this easier. So he just looks, drinking his fill of the features that hold a place in
his heart before they disappear and morph into a wolf. His face is so beautiful, even lined and
pale as it is with pain and worry. He's always thought so, from the first time he saw him in
that cafe lifetimes ago, where he sat illuminated by the sunlight and nose deep in a book.
From the long nose, lopsided smile, to the tips of his ears - he's the definition of beauty in
Sirius' mind. And his eyes. He could write novels about those honey brown eyes, the way
they glow when sunlight hits them in the right way, how they crinkle when he laughs, how he
can communicate an entire sentence by just narrowing them a certain way. How they soften
when they look at him, only him.

Remus sees him staring and offers a tight smile, "See you on the other side, punk."

Sirius nods mutely, running a hand through the soft, tawny hair before tearing himself away.

A hand closes on his wrist.

"Don't watch", Remus implores, sweat beading on his brow and eyes earnest, "promise you
won't watch when it happens."

It's the least Sirius can do, leaving him this last shred of dignity. He forces out a hoarse,
"Promise", and pulls away.

Closing the cage and slamming the lock shut is the hardest thing he's ever had to do. He
winces at the heavy clang and feels his heart break in two. He doesn't look back as he leaves
the room.

James and Lily are waiting in the observation room. They’re busying themselves with
finishing setting up, but he can tell by the way they avoid his eyes that they heard and saw.
Lily sniffs quietly and turns her back to him to tap pointlessly at her laptop. A surge of
impatience runs through him as she wipes her eyes with the back of her hand and James’ face
crumples, hands reaching for her. He grits his teeth and pointedly looks out the window as
James envelops her in his arms and murmurs in her ear. He can’t hear what’s being said but
it’s James’ most comforting voice and he’s taken aback by how jealous it makes him. He
wants nothing more than Remus’ hands cradling his face and telling him everything’s going
to be okay and it being actually fucking true, rather than a platitude they keep telling each
other time and time again, hoping one day they’ll get some peace from pain and suffering. He
bites the inside of his cheek and hates himself for feeling it, for envying the ease they have
together, because they’ve been nothing but kind and helpful and he’s being ungrateful, but he
still can’t look at the tenderness on display when the love of his life sits in a fucking cage
waiting to be physically and mentally ripped apart.

He’s just about to snap something that he’d definitely regret later when a glint catches his
eye. James lifts his arms to hold Lily tighter against him and something shifts in his pocket,
catching the lamplight. Something silver.

James pulls away from Lily with a gentle kiss to her cheek that makes her giggle and swat
him away, and the silvery glint is gone, hidden back in the folds of his jacket. Sirius is at his
side in two strides. He reaches for the pocket, heart thudding with the knowledge of what he
saw, but it can’t be true, it can’t…

James grabs his wrist as his hand dives into the pocket and wide brown eyes meet his, the
guilt and shock in them telling Sirius everything he needs to know without having to feel the
cool metal of a gun in his hand.

“What the fuck is that for?” He spits viciously and James flinches.

The room freezes as he waits for the answer. Even the crickets seem to have stopped
chirping, and the only thing he can hear is his own blood rushing in his ears, fury and shock
and hurt tangling in a confused bundle of heat in his chest.

James’ face works, and he looks pained as he bites out, “It’s not like that. It’s just a
precaution, I promise-”

“A precaution for what ?”

“If shit hits the fan!” James snaps, shoving Sirius’ wrist away, “If everything else fails.”

“I don’t fucking believe this”, Sirius snarls, using every inch of his height advantage to tower
over his best friend, who looks up hotly, “What, are you going to shoot my boyfriend? What
happened to ‘he’s one of us’?”

“He is ”, James voice splinters, pained, “That’s the only reason I’m doing this. I don’t want to
- he asked me to. I promised.”

The room comes back into focus where only a moment ago his vision had zeroed in on James
and his betrayal. He stares, rooted to the spot. He wouldn’t, he wouldn’t . But Sirius knows
deep down that James is telling the truth. He can see it in the pained twist to his mouth, in the
downcast apology in his eyes. James is the last person who would ever betray a friend, and
definitely the last person to ever want to physically hurt anyone. No, this secretiveness and
deception has Remus written all over it. I know better, I know what’s good for you painted all
over this fucking betrayal, and he can taste his anger, how furious he is that Remus has
chosen his fate behind his back.

“I promised”, James insists, voice wavering but strong, “He’s just trying to protect all of us.
He knows what can happen. And you know I’d never…”

He steps forward, hand reaching but Sirius unconsciously steps back, shaking his head, a
littany of ‘no’ chorusing in his head, drowning out reason.

“Sirius, you know I’d never hurt him unless it was a last resort. Please, you know me.” James
implores, face open and earnest and everything Sirius has ever considered home. It feels
strange to look at him and feel hurt. Unnatural.

He opens his mouth to reply, to accuse and wound, most likely. But a hoarse scream tears
through the tension and they all swivel towards the glass.

Remus is curled in on himself in a shaking ball at the bottom of the cage, fingers scrabbling
at the back of his head as if trying to tear off his own skin. Sirius stares, horrified, before
remembering his promise and whipping around to gesture at Lily and James to turn back
around.
“Don’t watch!”

James and Lily tear their wide eyes away, and join him in staring at the wall, faces pale and
terrified. The argument is promptly buried by the screams coming from the room behind
them, and each one hammers a nail deep into Sirius’ chest. He jerks and flinches with each
one, long drawn out cries, followed by stifled groans and huffs, like Remus is trying to
subdue them, like he’s trying to hold it in to protect him from hearing it. It somehow makes it
worse, because he’s fully lucid and aware through all of this and Sirius’ heart breaks to turn
his back on him. James’ hand reaches for him and finds his ring and pinky fingers, grips them
tightly when he doesn’t pull away. The firm hold is a life raft offered while he’s drowning in
a stormy sea. He’s still angry, but it pales in comparison to hearing Remus tear himself to
shreds, muscles and skin ripping, voice dropping lower into an animalistic growl, fresh yelps
and shrieks filling the air as his body changes. He can hear the bones breaking .
James yanks him into his circle of arms, where Lily is pressed to his other side, breathing
shallow and faces stricken. He holds them both tightly like he can protect them from the
sounds, but it’s useless, the howls of pain and sounds of bones snapping and reshaping have
made a home in Sirius’ mind and he’s never going to forget them. It turns his stomach and he
cringes at the urge to retch.

As suddenly as it started, it stops.

They stay huddled together, ears ringing, glancing at each other nervously. A small whimper
breaks the silence. It’s so obviously canine that Sirius breaks the embrace and spins around.

The wolf stands, head bowed and impossibly huge, filling the cage in a way that he couldn't
have envisioned. Sirius slowly steps closer to the glass, ignoring James’ grabbing motion for
him, and looks properly at the wolf.

He’s magnificent, Sirius thinks dully, incredible in size and presence. The wolf lifts his head
from snuffling at the ground and the eyes floor him. He’s seen them before but they’re still
striking, terrifying. The amber glows as he looks around the room, at the cage around him,
and the hackles raise. It breaks the spell Sirius is under. Something heavy settles into his
stomach, mixing with the nausea and making him feel downright leaden. The creature in
front of him is still very much a wolf, and there’s no sign of Remus in those eyes or the
movements. The wolf scents the air, teeth flashing in the cool moonlight streaming into the
room, but then he freezes. Head cocked, muzzle slowly covers teeth. He blinks, once, twice.
The wolf huffs, shifting his great paws that could take a fully grown man out with one swipe,
and shakes his head as if trying to get rid of an annoying gnat. Sirius watches intently,
shallow breaths fogging the glass, which he hadn’t realised he’d drifted so close to.

The wolf snaps enormous jaws, growling, turning from side to side as if fighting off an
irritating adversary that bites at his ears. And then he stills, breathing heavily, snout lowered.
When he raises his head again, he looks directly into the glass as if he knows they’re there.
And he does. Because it’s all Remus behind that amber glow now, Sirius knows it, he can feel
it.

All of his breath rushes out in one go and he resists the urge to shout. It worked .

The wolf blinks and slowly wags his tail, so obviously possessed by a tame and friendly
human, that James and Lily also exhale sharply. The wolf cocks his head again at the glass
and Sirius gets the impression that he’s not looking past the glass anymore, he’s staring at his
own reflection for the first time, because the tail stills and the eyes widen. He hopes he sees
how incredible he looks. As awful as this curse is, his strength and fortitude have always
been something to marvel at. He’s never been a monster, even as the wolf, and he hopes
Remus can see that now.

The wolf turns away, ears flattening to the head, and lies down in a ball, feet curled under
him and tail tucked around the body, the world’s biggest domesticated canine that wouldn’t
look out of place curled up at the end of a bed. A breath of manic laughter bursts from him at
the thought, surprising himself. Just a few minutes ago he couldn’t imagine laughing ever
again. The reason for that drifts back to the forefront of his mind slowly, but with Remus
curled up and safe, he resolves to save the confrontation for another time. But he’s definitely
going to sit both Remus and James down and have a go at both of them. Absolutely rip into
them for conspiring behind his back. Later. When Remus is human again and Sirius has held
him long enough to have his smell permanently imprinted on his skin.

They spend most of the night not talking. Lily goes between them both, swinging between
concern and impatience, hissed whispers in their ears while glancing up to make sure the
wolf hasn't heard. Sirius doesn't want to talk about it and James seems completely torn up
over it, shoulders permanently slumped like an enormous weight rests on his shoulders, even
with Lily murmuring reassurances to him. Eventually James falls asleep, sitting up on the
mattress, leaning against the wall with his head nodding, chin bumping his chest. Sirius
watches it under the guise of writing up his full moon observations on his laptop, scowling at
the ease with which James falls asleep while he's a bundle of jittery energy.

A flowery smell tickles his nose and Lily folds herself down beside him, leaning against the
wall. He doesn't acknowledge her, frowning down at his laptop and huffing impatiently when
it freezes. The reception is shit out here.

"Can we talk about it?" She murmurs softly, gaze flicking up to watch the wolf, which hasn't
moved in hours, beyond a satisfying looking stretch that made Sirius smirk. It's almost cute
this tame.

He taps angrily at the keyboard before remembering they're supposed to be quiet. He grits his
teeth and snaps the laptop shut.

"What do you want me to say?" He hisses, venom dripping into every word, "They both went
behind my back - yours too. I've a right to be mad."

She nods slowly, never taking her eyes off the wolf. Her voice is gentle and he gets the
impression this is how she would talk to a petulant child, which incenses him further. "You're
right, they shouldn't have kept it a secret. But he's just doing what he thinks is right."

"You're on their side. Typical", he snorts.

"No, I'm-" She pauses, pursing her lips thoughtfully, "I can see both sides. Of course I don't
want him to be hurt. But it's not fair that we decide his fate for him. Imagine how it must feel
knowing you might hurt the people you love when you're not in your right mind. He just
wanted a way to feel in control of that. That he can protect us from himself."

"That's such bullshit", he spits, clawing desperately at his own anger; if he can hold onto it
then he doesn't have to accept that she might be right, "if you were in my place you bloody
well know you'd be raging. James decides a suicide mission is the only way and goes behind
your back to do it, you’re sitting back and cheering him on?"

She pats his leg soothingly as his voice raises and leans closer to murmur, "Of course I’d be
angry. I get it, I do. Be angry, shout at them, do what you need to do. But at the end of the day
they love you and they're trying their best."
He wrenches himself away from her touch, incensed, furious , because he can't argue with
that but he wants to. He wants to be justified in his anger because he feels like an idiot,
lapping up all of Remus' promises of forever when he'd just as quickly turn around and put a
bullet in that chance. No - he'd make Sirius' best friend put a bullet in their forever. It's
worse.

He pulls away roughly, wanting to leave, to pace, to be away , but as he does his laptop falls
from his lap and clatters to the floor with a sound that echoes through the room, leaving their
ears ringing in the silence that follows. James jerks awake instantly and they all snap their
eyes towards the glass.

The wolf is on his feet, peering at the glass with wide honey brown eyes. It's still Remus but
he looks startled and he shifts, concerned. As he does, he moves closer to the bars of the
cage. Sirius can see what's about to happen, can sense the danger before it comes to a head,
and he leaps to his feet even though there's nothing he can do to stop it.

The tip of the wolf’s ear brushes against the silvery weld, glinting in the moonlight, and
everything changes.

Sirius watches helplessly as the wolf leaps back with a yelp, shaking his head. He backs up
too far and hits the other end of the cage and yelps louder as he comes into contact with more
silver. Remus vanishes from the eyes in an instant, and they're all left gaping at an enraged,
trapped werewolf, snarling around at the offending silver around it and ears pressed flat to its
head in an unmistakably aggressive expression. It tugs uselessly at the shackles and turns to
bite at its own legs, leaving it close to the bars again, brushing briefly against them. Even the
slight touch sends it howling in pain and rage, throwing itself around the small space, trying
to escape the pain and bumping into more of it the more it rages.

They're all on their feet now, watching with bated breath and adrenaline pumping. Sirius'
fight or flight is activated, even though he knows it's Remus and he doesn't want to be scared
of him, but there's nothing human in the way the wolf gnaws at itself and howls in rage. His
own blood stains the muzzle and teeth and it’s that more than anything that clicks something
into place in Sirius’ head. This is dangerous.

He vaguely hears Lily's panicked mutter of, "What do we do, what do we do-", running on
repeat like a scratched CD. He stares, frozen, and numbly feels something tugging at his arm,
something moving him.

James' face swims in front of his own, pale and terrified.

"Let's go, we have to get out of here!"

Daze broken, Sirius tears his arm from James' panicked grip and snarls, "I'm not leaving. You
go."

"Don't be stupid-"

"I'm not going anywhere-"

A terrible snarling sound interrupts them, equal parts rage and pain, and they look on in
horror as the wolf throws itself repeatedly against the bars of its prison, desperately trying to
get away from the silver and only burning itself more. The cage rattles and shakes with the
wolf's weight thrown around and with one particularly desperate hurl into the side, it starts to
tip. The world inexplicably slows down in one moment. The cage teeters on the edge, pain
and panic painting the wolf's features, and it throws its considerable weight once again into
the side. The cage topples onto its side, landing with a deafening crash that rattles the glass,
and they all duck as if a gun has gone off.

It's even worse now - the wolf is stuck standing on the silver and it shrieks, paws burning,
and starts clawing in desperation at the bottom of the cage which is now on its side, the only
reprieve from the silver. It digs and launches itself at it, howling and snarling and the sound
tears something in Sirius' chest because it's a werewolf but it's also Remus and he's hurting,
he's hurting so much and it’s his fault . His fault. His fault.

“Fucking hell”, James whispers, lips almost white, “He’s going to break out. We’ve got to
move.”

The metal starts to bend outwards from the seam of the weld, a snout pressing into the small
gap and smelling freedom. The wolf throws itself with renewed determination and Sirius
numbly realises that James is right, they can’t be here. He stumbles towards the door with his
friends, launching themselves through and tearing down the corridor. They make for the back
door they’d left unsecured, the only way in and out of the building that hasn’t been reinforced
and boarded up in case of an emergency just like this. But it’s far. It’s the opposite end of the
hospital and that had seemed so inconsequential before because nothing was going to happen,
it was just a precaution, but now it seems miles away, and how could he be so stupid, how
could he have thought this would go any other way?

They run. His heart pounds, a stitch cutting into his side, and both he and James pull Lily
along, strides so much longer than hers and she struggles to keep up. The fear in James’
urging is what gets him most, sending shudders through his whole body, hands shaking,
because he’s heard James frightened before but not like this. A horrible thought flashes
through Sirius’ mind. Is James terrified enough to consider this worthy of the last resort? At
what point is he going to pull the gun from his pocket? If they make it outside the Shrieking
Shack and keep the wolf locked inside, will that be enough? There’s no answer, only the
thudding of their footfalls, heavy panting, and continued howls growing more distant but no
less chilling.

They reach a crossroads and in their shared panic, none of them can recall the way out.

It’s so stupid. They went over this a dozen times, Lily mapped it out on her laptop and in a
notebook. And it’s all just blank fucking panic now. Sirius paces between the corridors,
panting, looking down the pitch black halls looming before them, hoping desperately to
recognise something, anything that might point to the right path. But it’s too dark, they’ve
forgotten the lamp in their panic, and the only light is the moonlight streaming through dirty
windows, feeble and dim through the grime.

James is swearing up a storm, spinning wildly, and Lily is rooted to the spot, staring wide
eyed at nothing, hands shaking at her temples like she can summon the way out with her
touch.

“Which way?” Sirius snaps at her impatiently, because she’s the one that pored over the maps
with Remus, spent hours on this stupid fucking escape plan. She doesn’t react, but James
shoves him roughly, face white and furious.

“Don’t you fucking blame her-”

“I’m not , she’s the one that-”

“We should have left when I said!” James spits, fists clenched and shaking at his sides, “But
you wouldn’t fucking move, you stupid, stubborn bastard. This is what Remus was-”

A crack, the sound of splintering wood, freezes them and the words die in James’ throat. It’s
the sound of the wolf breaking through the door. He’ll have their scent now, the air thick with
their fear and sweat.

“This way”, Lily breathes, stumbling to the right. Her face and voice are remarkably calm,
and he doesn’t doubt her for a second, even though a moment ago she looked as lost as he
felt. They pelt down the hall, hearts racing at the slightest noise. Is that their own heavy
breathing bouncing off the walls or is it the wolf behind them, panting at their heels? He sees
James’ hand reaching for his pocket and through the danger and sheer terror, he feels
something even stronger.

“Don’t, don’t you do it”, he gasps, aiming for commanding and landing on desperation, a
plea.

James doesn’t answer.

A thud behind them almost makes him stumble in fright, and Lily jumps so badly that she
trips and is suddenly on the floor, only visible in the gloom by her red hair. They stop to pull
her to her feet, and Sirius chances a glance behind them. He wishes he hadn’t.

The wolf shakes itself from where it slammed into the wall from skidding around the corner.
Its amber eyes lock on them and there’s only darkness between them and the enormous
predator, broken by feeble patches of light. The corridor is suddenly not long enough, the
distance so short between them. The wolf stalks forward slowly, eyes fixed, and Sirius dimly
registers that they’re being stalked. Hunted.

He glances back towards the other end of the corridor. The exit is through another ward, they
still have so far to go. Lily’s hand is shaking in his own and he squeezes it.

This is his fault, all his fault, and he can’t let anything happen to them, his friends - his
family. His snarky sister who squabbles with him and thinks she knows everything, and she
kind of does, which makes her even more annoying. An endless wealth of knowledge but
also kindness, selfless and willing to risk her life for her friend. And James, his brother in
every way that matters, who knows him inside and out and still loves him, still finds
something in him worth loving, as broken and wretched as he feels some days. His brother
who still hesitates to reach for the gun, which he knows is loaded with silver bullets. The last
 resort. And even staring down the wolf James' face is screwed up in torment, still doesn’t
want to resort to it. Sirius is struck with resolve and it’s almost a relief.

He steps between them and the wolf, shoving them both towards the exit roughly.

“Run. Don’t stop. I’ll buy you time.”

He doesn’t know what he’s going to do. He doesn’t plan to be killed but it’s a very real
possibility and he’s ready for it, as long as James and Lily make it out and Remus lives to
hear that it’s Sirius’ fault and no one else's, certainly not his, when he’s been trying to protect
them all along. All he knows for certain is he can run. Fast. He’s always outstripped James
easily and he’s never been more grateful for it.

He takes one more second to drink in the sight of his two closest friends, staring in stricken,
stunned horror, hoping they can see the apology in his face. And then he’s tearing down the
corridor back towards the wolf.

Chapter End Notes

I'm sorry for the cliffhanger, this chapter was already so long and I had to stop it
somewhere.
I promise to update soon though. The next chapter is almost finished and we're almost at
the end!
Thank you so much for keeping with it, your encouragement genuinely means the world
to me :)
 Chapter 11
Chapter Notes

I decided this will be the last chapter. It just felt right.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Sirius tears down the corridor, his mind screaming at him that he’s running straight into the
jaws of death. It’s without a doubt the stupidest thing he’s ever done, but maybe it’s also the
bravest. Funny how those two coincide so often.

The wolf looks startled to see him running towards it instead of away, and he uses the
moment of hesitation to slam into a door on his right, opening to another corridor which leads
back into the depths of the hospital. He shouts as he does, garbled noises rather than words,
all that matters is he makes a racket to attract the attention to himself. And he’s always been
good at that, it comes naturally. He hears heavy footfalls behind him and glances back. It
worked. The wolf is following him down the corridor, snarling but not nearly as vicious as
before, almost like it’s confused by his stupidity of running towards it.

He runs. He runs as fast as he can, lungs screaming at him and legs burning, but the wolf
lopes easily behind him, strides not even extended all the way and fucking hell, it’s not even
trying. It knows he can’t outrun it. They both do.

He reaches what looks like a reception area for one of the wards, an enormous U shaped desk
looming out of the darkness ahead, and he leaps over it, putting it between him and the wolf.
If he can just keep it that way maybe he can last until dawn.

The wolf charges into the room and skids to a halt to see Sirius hunched behind the desk, legs
spring loaded and ready to run at the slightest movement. But the wolf just stares. The amber
eyes regard him curiously, calculating. There’s still hunger in the face but there’s something
else too, something not entirely attributable to the simple expressions of a canine. Something
just slightly… human.

Footsteps thud to his right and a door swings open, banging into the wall, startling them both
out of the shared curious stare. James steps through, loyal and fucking stubborn as hell,
silvery glint of the gun held aloft and pointed at the wolf. His jaw is a sharp line of defiance
and although his hand shakes, his gaze never wavers. Sirius gapes, but he has no time to
curse the unshakable loyalty of his best friend, because the wolf’s eyes lock on James and the
snarl returns, hackles raising, and fuck, those teeth are huge this close. It stalks towards
James, tongue flicking out to lick at its teeth, Sirius all but forgotten with the appearance of
this more aggressive adversary.
“Don’t”, James pants heavily, voice low and rough, “don’t make me do this. Remus, please.”

He still doesn’t want to do this. Even looking death right in the eye he still refuses to hurt his
friends. Sirius can’t do this, can’t lose either of them.

In two strides he’s between them. James shouts something at him but he only has eyes for the
wolf right now. There had been something in the eyes before James had appeared - he knows
it. Knows it as certainly as he could recognise Remus deaf and blind.

“It’s me”, he implores, surprised to find his voice steady when his entire body shakes,
“Remus, I know you’re in there.”

The wolf pauses again to find him stepping willingly into its path. The teeth are still bared
but the approach slows, like it’s trying to figure out why this particular prey is so stupid and
desperate to die. He keeps his eyes fixed on the amber, refusing to look at the singed pink and
black flesh on its nose and ears, and god, everywhere . It's everywhere, the silver must have
hurt so much, it's no wonder Remus lost control and the wolf took over.

“Listen to me”, he insists, hands slowly raising palms outward in a gesture of vulnerability,
hoping it triggers something, “you don’t want to hurt James, you don’t want to hurt me. I
know you - you can control this, baby, I know you can. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever
met, you can do this. Just listen to my voice, look at me, I’m here. I’m here and I’m not going
anywhere and you won’t hurt me.”

James makes a strangled noise of protest behind him but he presses on, because the slow
approach of the wolf has almost stopped completely, and the ears flicked ever so slightly.
Like it’s listening.

“I know you’re in there right now, screaming at me”, a shaky smile slips onto his face,
“absolutely ripping into me for being a fucking idiot, telling me to run. And you’re right,
you’re absolutely right, as usual. The only time I’ll admit it. This is so stupid and I know it’s
dangerous. But I’m not letting go, I’m not leaving. You said forever, right?” His breath
catches in his throat as the wolf freezes, ears twitching, flicking back. “You told me forever
and I’m not letting go of that - it belongs to us and I’m not letting go.”

The wolf blinks, huffing harshly, like it’s struggling. Fighting with something. Remus -
fighting, clawing back his consciousness from the wolf. He can see it in the eyes and his
heart surges with hope. He slowly crouches down to make himself smaller, less of a threat to
the wolf, so there’s less for Remus to fight against. He hisses for James to lower the gun and
he doesn’t look back to see if he obeys, just hopes that he understands what’s happening.

He’s going to talk them out of this, as he’s done countless times before in much less dire
circumstances. If it’s one thing he knows how to do, it’s talk.

“We’re going to go to Scotland, right?” He babbles, still stuck on that day that Remus
promised forever, and how he said they'd travel together. “Yeah, that’s where we’ll go first.
You’ll like it there, all the old castles and history and dull shit that I never cared about, but
I’ll listen to you prattle on about it for hours. God, I can’t wait to hear your voice again,
Remus. I just want to hear your voice.” His voice splinters around the words, sharp edges
catching on his tongue, and he wonders if he'll ever get to hear the deep, smooth tones again
that calm him so effortlessly - his voice could soothe a hurricane to quiet.

He forces himself to keep talking, tearing himself away from the thought, “I’ll drag you off to
- I don’t fucking know - Morocco, why not? It’s hot and got good food and you could do with
both. I absolutely will make us stay in a hostel at least once because that's the thing to do, and
I already know you’ll hate it, complaining left and right. But you’ll do it anyway because you
always give into what I want, don’t you? Anything for me… even the sun, you said. Do you
remember that?”

His voice shakes, words spilling right from his chest, no filter between his brain and his
tongue. He says what he feels, all of it, because this is the only chance he has and no matter
what happens, no matter how this ends, he needs Remus to hear it.

“You said you want me at my best and my worst. I'm mostly worst. You’ve seen parts of me I
never let anyone see, and you trusted me enough to show me this, this part of you I know you
hate, and I love you even now, especially now. I love you so much I don’t know what to do
with it all, it makes me do stupid things, so fucking stupid. But I love you and I'm here - I’m
waiting for you, right here. You just have to come back to me.”

The wolf shakes its head and the hackles raise further for a moment, growl deepening and
Sirius falters. If this doesn’t work he’s a goner - the wolf is so close that he can feel its breath
hot and damp on his face, and those snapping jaws send a block of ice sliding down his spine.
But then the growling stops abruptly. Ears flatten and amber slides smoothly into honey
brown, blinking.

Sirius exhales sharply, “Remus?”

Lupine eyes widen, glancing around the room, darting from Sirius to James behind him,
snagging somewhere down by Sirius’ shoulder where James must have lowered the gun to
his side. The eyes jerk back to Sirius, and he's caught in them as sure as Remus has a hold on
his heart.

Remus turns and bolts.

Sirius stares at the space where the wolf had stood, so large that he almost seemed to take up
the whole room, and now that he’s gone it’s empty, so empty. He still crouches, shaking,
muscles like lead. James murmurs something urgently behind him but his mind chugs along
too sluggishly to understand, still staring at the empty space where the love of his life and
death had been looking back at him. Warm grip on his arm, pulling, and suddenly he’s on his
feet, swaying.

James is deathly pale under his glasses, and his eyes are oddly bright, shimmering. He’s
saying something, Sirius forces himself to focus, to wade through the thick mud that’s
descended on his brain to hear what he’s saying.
“... mental, absolutely fucking mental. Let’s get out of here, okay? He’ll be alright now, but
we can’t stay here.”

The world starts to speed up back to normal again, and his five senses rush towards him at
once. His blood thuds in his ears, legs shaking with the effort of standing, hands trembling,
and the smell of James in his nose, comforting, home. He takes a deep breath.

“I’m sorry.”

James falters, lips thinning like he’s trying to hold something in.

“I fucked it up, I’m sorry,” Sirius insists, reaching for him and finding the front of his shirt,
curling his fists into the warm fabric, “you and Lily - if something happened to you, I don’t-
I’m sorry.”

Messy black hair shakes and James swallows hard, looking away. His eyes shimmer.

“Let’s go.”

Sirius hesitates. “He… he needs me.”

He’s dimly surprised to see James just nod, accepting without a fight.

“You’re not going to argue?” He wonders aloud.

James looks at him - really looks at him. Considers carefully, then says simply, “I heard all of
it. How can I argue with any of that?”

Sirius offers up a weak smile, apologetic, fractured.

He turns and follows the faintest sound of a whine, shuddering on the end of ragged breaths.
James doesn’t follow him.

“Remus?” He murmurs, hovering in the doorway.

The room Remus scarpered to is dim, but he makes it out to be an office of sorts. He sees the
glint of eyes in the shadows under the desk. They’re more honey than yellow, but he’s not
surprised - Remus' control is incredible and he knows he'll fight tooth and nail to keep it. He
moves forward cautiously, slowly, showing he’s no threat. The wolf whines again, just the
slightest pitch on the end of a breath, like he can’t help it, and the desk rattles as he tries to
retreat further into the darkness, away from Sirius.

He sits on the floor, his back against the desk, and there’s a tail just inches from his hand.

“Tonight was a right mess”, he says quietly, an absolute understatement. Remus exhales
sharply through the long snout. It’s as close to a dry chuckle as a wolf can get, he thinks.
“I’m not gonna lie, the gun thing threw me”, he continues tiredly, adrenaline receding and
leaving sheer exhaustion in its wake, “We’re going to have to talk about it at some point. But
not tonight.”

The shuddering underneath the desk stills, like Remus is listening intently.

“I know you’re beating yourself up in there. This wasn’t your fault, babe.” He says gently,
“James and Lily are okay, you didn't hurt anyone. I'm not going to let you tear yourself up
over this. And I know this was so far from the plan that it’s on another fucking planet, but it
worked - the meds worked. You know what this means, right?”

He sees ears twitch in the corner of his eye. What does it mean?

“We’ve got it, we’ve got our forever." He wishes he could summon up more enthusiasm but
he’s exhausted. He keeps talking, voice hoarse and low, “We can do all the things we talked
about. I meant all of it. I can’t wait to be a pain in your arse forever.”

He leans his head back against the desk, closing his eyes. It should feel dangerous, having the
wolf out of his sights and exposing his neck this way. It doesn’t.

“What do you think of America?” He mumbles, words slurring, “M’not sure. It’s so far, but I
bet the party scene is worth it. Oh, come on, don’t be like that, I won’t make you go to clubs.
Well, maybe one or two, when in Rome and all that. Hey, maybe you can finally see some
voguing and an honest to god Ball, and decide you hate it for yourself. You’ll definitely hate
it …”

The dawn approaches, creeping through the dust and grime in the window, clawing back the
night. Sirius rambles on, eyes drooping but determined to keep talking so Remus can hear his
voice. He's rewarded with ear twitches and blinks, and once, even the slightest tail wag
before Remus glowers at it and looks away. As the room gets brighter, the dark shape under
the desk shifts uneasily.

Sirius doesn't stop talking but he starts to shuffle away, seeing the shuddering return, the pull
of the moon receding.

He turns away when the whining starts in earnest, and when it turns into pained yelps he
finally stops his rambling to bite his lip. It's worse this close. The screams, the bones
breaking, the agony of it all turns his stomach so abruptly he has to shut his eyes tightly and
focus on not retching.

As soon as the screams stop he spins around. And there he is. Shaking, bloodied, hurting, but
alive.

Sirius crawls to his side, trembling hands reaching for him, desperate to feel him solid and
real under his fingertips. He scoops him into his lap, brushing brown hair from his forehead
tenderly, unable to stop himself from touching, running fingers along the cheeks, down his
neck, across the jaw. He almost sobs looking at the shiny red welts all over the pale skin
where the silver touched, and he carefully holds a bloodied hand, wincing at the teeth marks
on the wrist. Presses a kiss to the palm, shutting his eyes tight to feel Remus warm and alive
against his lips. When he opens them again, he’s looking at honey brown. A feeble ray of
sunlight has fallen across his face, as if it were made just to illuminate those eyes, and
everything else falls away. Rich and deep, there’s a wealth of emotions buried there, but they
soften to see him. Always. Even when he doesn’t deserve it.

“Hey, you”, Sirius smiles shakily, throat tight and eyes prickling.

Remus tries to curl in on himself, face shuttering as the events of the night crowd in on him,
but Sirius is ready for it. He hunches over and holds Remus to his chest tightly, feels the
weight of him in his arms.

“It’s alright, we’re fine”, Sirius babbles as he feels hands grip his shirt frantically,
desperately, neither trying to push him away or pull him closer, “I’m here. I’m here.”

He realises with a jolt that the shaking in Remus’ shoulders is getting worse. He’s crying. No,
he’s sobbing . Remus presses his face tight into his chest like he’s trying to bury his tears
there, like he can crawl between Sirius’ ribs and be held in the cradle of his sternum. He
wishes he could open his ribcage and keep him there, held against his heart where nothing
could touch him, and nothing would hurt. Sirius holds him tighter, dropping his head to bury
his nose in the soft hair that smells of sweat and home.

Hearing Remus fall to pieces breaks something in him. It’s worse than listening to the
transformation, the snapping of bones, nothing compared to the way his breaths come in
gasps, and it’s pain, it’s more pain, when will Remus ever not be in pain? He has to wrestle
Remus to come up for air, because he’s so determined to hide his face, but Sirius can’t hear it
anymore without doing something. He knows Remus’ mind is full of guilt and shame and
horror, and he can’t bear the idea of him flogging himself over what happened, or what nearly
happened.

Remus frowns to have his face exposed, nose red, eyes streaming, face a picture of torment.
Sirius kisses every part he can reach. It’s not enough to say how he feels, but a little more
tension eases from Remus’ face with each one, and that’s enough for now. When he presses
their lips together Remus grips the back of his head tightly, holding him there. And he stays,
flooded with relief to feel this again, that Remus is asking for this comfort and not pushing
him away like he used to.

He holds him for what feels like hours. His knees ache from the hard floor and Remus is
heavy in his tired arms, but not even death himself could pull Remus from him now. In the
end, it’s Remus himself who pulls away, and Sirius lets him go, hands still stroking his back
and entwining their fingers together.

He can feel the apology coming. He can see the guilt welling up inside of Remus like molten
lava threatening to spill over and burn him from the inside out. He won’t let it.

“It wasn’t your fault”, he croaks as firmly as he can with his voice still shaking, “I know what
you’re thinking, but if you’ve ever trusted me, you’ll believe it. It’s not your fault, I don’t
blame you and they don’t either.”
Remus’ eyelashes clump together wetly as he looks down at their hands intertwined, and it
shouldn’t be so beautiful. But he is, of course. Bloodied, bruised, tear tracks on his dirty
cheeks. No less beautiful for the evidence of his strength.

"I almost-", Remus trails off hoarsely, his voice a scrape of gravel. He can't finish the
sentence, face crumpling as he shakes his head.

"But you didn't", Sirius insists desperately, "You came back. You came back to me."

Sirius belatedly realises that there are goosebumps breaking out over Remus' naked body and
the shaking is no longer from trying to suppress tears. He hastily removes his jacket and
drapes it over his shoulders. Remus clutches it around himself, fingers worrying at the
leather, and he looks down at it as if it's a question, wondering, thoughtful.

Sirius doesn't get to find out what he's thinking because James seems to have read his mind
through any distance between them, tapping softly at the door.

He's holding out Remus' clothes and his face is no longer ashy, but it's still pinched in an
unfamiliar way that his face shouldn't be, not James, who's an unending beam of sunlight.
Lily peers around his shoulder and her face crumples at the sight of Remus curled up in the
jacket, frown deepening as her eyes flit between all of his injuries.

She's crouching beside them in a second, pulling Remus into a hug. Whatever doubts Remus
could have about their friends resenting him or blaming him can't possibly survive the
strength of her fierce embrace. Sirius sees it in his face. Guilt slowly sliding into relief and
gratitude, and then love, so much love that he almost can't seem to bear it, shutting his eyes
tightly against her neck.

The three of them bandage him up together. Lily oversees it, of course, and some semblance
of normal returns when she chides James for his poor bandaging skills and Sirius snorts. It's
cathartic. Wrapping clean cloth around the scrapes, the bites, the angry looking burns,
cleaned and generously covered in ointment. As each one disappears under the white, woven
carefully by three pairs of loving hands, Remus starts to emerge from the hunched bundle of
raw emotions. He can't argue with this. Not when his friends not only don't blame him, but
they're so soft with him, putting him back together, without anyone having to utter a word
about it.

He grips the sleeve of James' shirt, frowning, mouth working around something that he can't
say. James just gently claps him on the shoulder, a sad smile on his face, and returns to fixing
the wrappings around his ankle.

When they walk out of the Shrieking Shack, Remus supported between Sirius and James, the
sun is shining, oblivious to the darkness of the night that's passed. Dew sparkles in the grass,
birds chatter at each other, and the grounds of the hospital are crumbling and peaceful.

It's a good place for forever to start.

—------

Sirius jolts awake as he's jerked forward against his seatbelt. He blinks dopily, rudely
awakened and still half asleep.

His gaze falls on Remus, who sits next to him in the back-seat of James' car, his lopsided grin
exactly where it belongs, and eyes sparkling with amusement.

Three weeks after the eventful full moon, the burns and bites have almost faded completely,
although they've left fresh scars. Remus seems less bothered to see them than Sirius expected.
In truth, he'd expected a lot more agonising over what happened but maybe it's the added
reassurances of James and Lily that ease his worries. Whatever it is, Remus seems relatively
at peace with what transpired. As long as it doesn't happen again . The last were emphasised
most intensely to Sirius, and he whole heartedly agreed. He still has nightmares about
running down neverending dark corridors, snarling at his heels, and probably will for the rest
of his life, he thinks.

He wonders if it was something he said that soothed Remus' conscience over what happened.
He doesn't ask.

"Wazgoin on?" He mumbles, straightening in his seat, blinking the rest of the sleep out of his
eyes.

"Prepare yourself", Lily mutters from the front seat.

"Mum's going to go spare", James adds gleefully, glancing at Remus in the rear view mirror.

Sirius sits up ramrod straight. They're here already?

The Potters' lake house looms in front of them, double storey and in the style of a wooden
cabin, surrounded by towering trees bursting greens and yellow with summer. It seems to
breathe life, as if it's been waiting for him to return all these years, achingly familiar and
filled to the brim with memories of teenage voices and screams of laughter in the sun. A thrill
of childlike excitement spills into his stomach like a shot of espresso. He shoots forward and
wraps arms around James' neck and face.

"Bags the big room, short stack", he hisses around the headrest as James struggles and slaps
at his arms.

"As if!"

Lily chimes in crossly, but her eyes are bright with laughter, "Children! I'm not putting up
with this for three days straight. I will throttle you both."

James reaches back and pulls Sirius' hair hard. He squawks, but something gently tugs him
back into his seat and he relinquishes his hold on James and goes without further fuss,
because it's Remus, and he's so happy to have him here that squabbles with James can wait.

It's easy to ignore James' grumbles because Remus' fingers are sliding between his, and does
anything else matter, really?

The answer is yes - getting to the bedroom with the double doors overlooking the lake before
James does trumps everything.

He almost launches himself out of the car to race him to it, suddenly reverted nine years back
to his sixteen year old self. But the nervous look on Remus' face stops him. Sirius squeezes
his hand.

There's nothing to be nervous about. Mrs Potter had shrieked happily when Sirius haltingly
asked to bring Remus to the biannual family summer holiday. It's a big step, but his adoptive
parents are thrilled to meet him and he has no doubt that they'll adore him. He's smart and
witty, endlessly patient and kind, and the Potters have a habit of picking up lovable strays to
call their own.

Remus shoots him a tight smile and he beams back confidently. They've earned this small
bite of happiness and he's going to savour it.

Euphemia and Fleamont Potter meet them at the door, arms wide and welcoming, and smiles
warm.

Sirius stands back while they clutch tightly at Lily and James, and he sneaks a hand down to
grip Remus' pinky. Remus looks around with a pleasant smile on his face but his other hand
hasn't left his pocket, where Sirius knows it's curled tightly in a fist. He slides his hand
around his back and grips his shoulder tightly.

"You must be Remus", Euphemia beams, relinquishing her hold on her son to hold arms out
to Remus, "I'm so happy you could come. We've been dying to meet you."

She's about Lily's height so her face ends up pressed against Remus' chest and he awkwardly
wraps his long arms around her shoulders.

"It's lovely to meet you, Mrs Potter."

"Mia, love. And this is Fleamont, although you can call him Monty."

She stands back and Mr Potter pulls Remus forward by the hand he held out to shake,
wrapping him in a tight hug instead, as he insists warmly, "Everyone does."

Sirius grins widely as Remus quickly finds out where James gets his knack for overwhelming
physical affection. The Potters are huggers and so touchy feely that it took Sirius years to get
used to, eventually learning to embrace it and stop stiffening when they reached for him. He
probably wouldn't like being touched at all if it wasn't for all the times Euphemia found him
in the kitchen at 2am when he couldn't sleep, and wrapped arms around him gently from
behind, chatting softly in his ear. They never spoke of it, as no one ever speaks of things that
occur in the deepest parts of night, like it's a secret, to exist only in those small hours. But it
helped, to let go when no one else was awake to see or know, to relax into her arms and let
her hold him, slowly unravelling the knot that tied itself in his stomach the day his biological
mother started hurting him. She'd been a teacher before retiring early - who better to teach
him that love could be gentle?

Remus takes to it better than Sirius did, in his agreeable way in which he moulds and bends
to every situation, soft and malleable where Sirius is brittle. He's a little stiff in Fleamont's
hold, but he smiles easily and the Potters return it earnestly.

Euphemia turns to Sirius and her smile flickers for the briefest moment before she wraps
arms around him.

"You're alright, aren't you, love?" He feels the vibrations in his chest, even though her words
are quiet, only loud enough for him to hear. She feels small in his arms when he wraps them
around her. Too small - she used to seem like a titan to him, in her sheer presence if not
physical stature. But he's grown and she hasn't, and she seems more frail than he remembers.

"Always", he reassures her with a bright grin.

She relinquishes him and turns to pull Remus further into the home, leaving Sirius to receive
a bone crushing hug from Fleamont, who he grips back almost as hard.

Mrs Potter (he's never gotten used to thinking of her as Mia), tells them to settle in while she
puts the kettle on. They traipse up the stairs, dragging their bags, and Sirius and James get
into it again, shoving and elbowing each other out of the way. Remus and Lily pay them no
mind as they follow behind, laughing and talking.

James ends up winning the fight for the best room, although he uses underhanded tactics,
muttering in Sirius' ear that this is a special weekend and he wants it to be perfect. Sirius
remembers what James has planned and tuts in mock disappointment, but allows him the
room with a grin and a friendly shove.

The room Sirius and Remus end up in overlooks the forest and that's nothing to complain
about. It's spacious and welcoming, with a large four poster bed made of dark wood, and the
rest of the furniture matches the rustic style, giving it the feel of a home, although it's seldom
occupied. As soon as they cross the threshold, Sirius drags Remus over to the enormous
round window to admire the view.

The house is nestled in a sea of green and yellow, Maples and Chestnuts sheltering it from the
sun, even the odd Oak that stands out rich and impressive against the backdrop of greenery.
It's the sort of place that reminds you how to breathe.

"I had the best summer of my life here." Sirius says quietly, drinking in the sight. It's as if
nothing has changed, the forest continues on, immortal and steadfast, growing imperceptible
inches in decades while he's aged centuries. It still exists as it does in his memories and it
feels right that Remus be here - how can he have a favourite memory that isn't steeped in
Remus?
"It's beautiful." Remus murmurs, honey brown eyes soft and wistful. They belong here, Sirius
thinks giddily, mirroring the soft glow of the sunlight streaming through the canopy and
bringing the rich browns of the forest to life.

Remus turns to face him and Sirius blinks to find himself staring. Honey brown crinkles and
Sirius is lost, in awe that he gets to have this, to stare and drink his fill as much as he wants,
that something as devastatingly beautiful as the forest belongs to him.

"You're different here." Remus murmurs thoughtfully, reaching up to brush a stray lock of
black hair behind his ear. Sirius leans into the touch, gaze unwavering.

"I'm happy", he impresses simply.

It's not that simple - there's so much history buried in these grounds and wooden foundations
and himself. He wishes he could explain what it means to have Remus here with him, there's
a confession on the tip of his tongue. But he can't compress all of these feelings into words,
they're wisps of summer air gone in a second before he has a chance to mould them into
tangible sentences. The Potters are waiting and he just wants to enjoy his time with them and
Remus. So he settles for happiness and presses their lips together, hoping that it will say the
rest. He has a lifetime to search the whole English language for words that could explain how
he feels about Remus. For now, happiness is enough.

When they make it down to the dining room, tea is brewed and waiting, and Lily and James
are deep in conversation with his parents.

Euphemia sees them coming down the stairs and beckons them to sit, smiling, as James
regales them with stories (whinging, more like) of his clerkship at the law firm.

"Still the office shitkicker?" Sirius drawls, dropping into the chair opposite. Remus slides into
the chair next to him and their knees bump under the table.

"I went to court the other day", James argues proudly, crunching into a biscuit and spilling
crumbs all over the table, "Presented a case to the judge and everything."

Sirius whistles, and James glares, thinking he's taking the piss.

"Nah I mean it, that's actually wicked", Sirius assures him, genuinely impressed, "you're like
a proper lawyer. I never have to pay a fine again."

"That's not how it works-"

"You'll have your own cases in no time", Euphemia overrides James firmly, brimming with
fierce pride as she looks at her son, "you've achieved so much. You both have."

Sirius doesn't meet her gaze. He's almost certain he's flunked his Honours, distracted by all
that's been happening. He doesn't care about not getting the degree - what he's achieved is
worth so much more - but he's not quite ready to tell anyone yet.
Her eyes linger on him for a moment too long, like she somehow knows what he's thinking,
but then she turns to Lily, all bright smiles, "You too, love. They treating you well at the
hospital?"

"It's pandemonium", Lily sighs, and Sirius thinks she's met her perfect match in James - both
have such a flair for dramatics. "I'm on the intensive care ward at the moment and my
Attending is so rude . But it's getting easier, I'm finding a rhythm."

Fleamont leans closer to ask about the state of the wards - as always, ready to rant about the
NHS and funding. Euphemia marches around the table to pour Remus and Sirius their tea,
waving away Remus' polite protests.

"I really don't know much about you", she beckons invitingly to Remus, but Sirius hears a
touch of reproach in her voice that's aimed at him, "James told us you're doing post graduate
literature, but I'm afraid Sirius has kept you quite the mystery."

He glowers across the table as she takes a seat, but she just grins back, playing innocent just
as well as her son does. James is rather like her in both personality and looks. They share the
same eyes and smile, the same slim face and affable personality that makes it a pleasure to
have them talk your ear off. She also shares his love for mischief, although she plays at being
strict, and he braces himself for some prodding and poking into his love life.

"Has he?" Remus replies lightly, sipping his tea, "I suppose he's not used to actually talking
to his dates. He might just be a little out of his depth, I wouldn't hold it against him."

She blinks owlishly. Then laughter bursts from her lips like a waterfall, crashing and
deafening, and Sirius splutters.

"Oh Sirius, you have to keep this one", she chortles, dark brown eyes bright as she gazes in
wonder at Remus. Someone else who will tease Sirius with her - what a treat. Sirius huffs,
but Remus' smile is less tense, so he begrudgingly allows him this victory.

"I was going to already." He gripes, tapping restlessly on the table.

She cocks her head slightly and her grin turns devilish - a perfect imitation of James when
he's being a little shit.

"You know, he's always been so combative", she muses humorously, "The tantrums and
strops I had to deal with when he was a teenager - I'm glad he's met someone who can hold
his own."

Remus' eyes twinkle. "Oh, the tantrums live on."

"Does he still stomp his feet when he doesn't get his way?"

" Ma -"

"Only once. Although to be fair, he was hungry at the time."

"I'm right here ."

"Oh come on, love", Euphemia waves away his grumbled protests, "I'm just having some fun.
He's wonderful , as sharp as Lily. I always worried you'd find yourself an airhead who'd let
you get away with anything. You've chosen well."

Remus tips his head in thanks and he's a picture of polite innocence - nevermind that he's a
conniving little shit .

"I'm glad I never let you meet anyone else", Sirius grumbles sourly, "You always have so
much to say - you and James. Living with you two was like living with a pair of terriers, yap
yap yap. I don't know how Lily does it."

"Someone has to provide the personality", she preens as if it's a compliment, examining her
perfectly manicured nails, "we can't all be mysterious and brooding."

Remus chortles into his cup and Sirius glares. A hand finds his knee under the table and
squeezes. He feels his glare soften immediately, despite himself.

"He's plenty personality for me. Not sure I could handle more, truthfully."

The mischief in Euphemia's smile fades and her eyes soften.

"He's a good egg", she states fondly, reaching forward to take Sirius' hand, absently turning it
over to examine his palm, "You always were. I'm proud of who you've become."

He should be used to it now, the casual way she drops compliments and heartfelt praise as
casually as the Maple trees drop their leaves on the ground in autumn. It still stutters his
thoughts to a halt.

The hand on his knee squeezes again and he finds his breath.

"Thanks, Ma", he mutters, blinking at his hand held in hers, so much smaller and softer.
Gentle, always gentle.

She smiles warmly and turns her attention back to Remus, expression snapping back to
inquisitive, almost interrogative.

"So, is that a Welsh accent I hear? It's very subtle, did you move when you were young?"

Sirius sips his tea and bounces between the conversations, but all the while the hand never
leaves his knee and warmth creeps through his veins from the touch.

—----

They talk late into the afternoon and eventually relocate to the table on the back porch, where
summer hums and breathes around them, filling their noses and lungs.
Remus chats easily with both parents and something warm and soft settles into the bottom of
Sirius' stomach as he watches the tension bleed from Remus' shoulders and hands.

His hand finds Remus' knee under the table and an inexplicable wave of feeling hits him.

He spends a few minutes tangling with the confusing avalanche of emotions, hardly listening
to Remus and James' conversation with Fleamont about politics.

It's a feeling of belonging, he decides after parsing through the whirl of intangible feelings.
Seeing Remus slip so easily into the dynamic of his family solidifies the feeling of belonging
he already felt with him. There's something permanent and binding about it, and there's no
resistance, no hesitation from Remus or from within himself. It feels right.

He breathes deeply. The heady scent of earth and wood fills his nose. It's only right that it
happens here - this discovery of the final puzzle piece. They can plant their roots here in the
rich soil between these trees where his happiest memories already live, kept alive and well by
the immutable forest. He tenderly buries this day in his memories - another summer where
everything is good and he knows happiness.

James rises to his feet after a while longer, asking Lily if she wants to stretch her legs. She
frowns at being interrupted from her conversation with Euphemia, but he insists with such
earnest, big brown eyes that she relents. Sirius watches them wander down into the thick of
the trees together and grins, knowing exactly what James is up to.

Fleamont also stands, stretching his back with a groan.

"Alright, boys. Who's for some whiskey?" He offers with a sly grin, "I've got some Berken's
that'll blow your socks off."

"Really, Monty, it's not even four o'clock." Euphemia tuts, pursing her lips at him.

"I'm on holiday." He protests, spreading his arms, "Don't worry, I'll bring you your wine."

She splutters as he cheekily pinches her side on his way past and a flush crawls up her neck.
Sirius barks laughter to see her lose her composure.

"Shush you", she points at him, getting to her feet and adjusting her blouse, "I-I should go
help him with the glasses."

She pats her pristine hair and dabs at her lipstick as she quickly follows her husband, and
Sirius snorts.

"You know, I don't think they're coming back." Remus comments lightly and Sirius laughs,
stretching an arm over the back of his chair.

"Promise me we'll still be that crazy about each other when we're a hundred years old?" He
demands, eyes snagging on a fresh pink scar on the tip of Remus' ear.
Remus chuckles, tilting his head back to blink lazily at the waving leaves above them. The
complete lack of tension or alertness is foreign - Sirius fidgets, unable to remember ever
seeing Remus so relaxed.

"I don't know about a hundred. But at least until we're eighty." Remus assures him softly. He
pauses, swallowing hard, his tone fighting for mild, "It's strange - I've never let myself think
that far ahead before. Never thought I'd live that long."

Something hooks in Sirius' chest, the pleasant melody that's been thrumming in his ribcage
trailing off at the unexpected stab of pain. But then Remus is smiling and he can breathe
again.

"You did that", he wonders dreamily, still talking to the sky, "You did that for me. I wish I
could tell the world. You deserve the world to know how incredible you are, how good you
are. I know you don't think of yourself as good, but you are. The best person I know."

Warmth floods him but it's not the kind that can be tempered by the cool breeze. His heart
thumps manically in his chest and forever stretches before him. He swoops forward and
kisses Remus on the cheek, feeling the skin move under his lips as Remus smiles wider.
Sirius doesn't pull back straight away, lingering, considering.

"You think anyone'll notice if we go upstairs for ten?" He murmurs in a rush.

Remus laughs in surprise, deep and throaty. "Turned on by compliments, are we?"

"No - well, maybe", Sirius admits, tugging at Remus' hand, "I just need to feel you, all of
you. Right now."

Remus turns eyes on him and all traces of laziness have vanished from his face.

"Ten minutes."

—----

When they make their way back outside the sun has started to sink, casting a delicious orange
glow on the porch, and Lily and James have returned, both beaming. They cling to each other
giddily as Euphemia sniffles on Fleamont's shoulder while he gently pats her back.

Sirius laughs at the startled look on Remus' face, still flushed and rosy and devastatingly
lovely.

He pulls him towards the group and James holds out his and Lily's entwined hands for them
to see.

The ring captures the sunlight and magnifies it tenfold, shimmering with every movement,
starlight dancing, a whole universe condensed into one stone.
Sirius throws himself at them with a bark of laughter, overjoyed, and they stumble back
together under his weight, all laughing and smiles.

"Watch yourself", James chortles around the grin that splits his face ear to ear, and he holds
onto Sirius tighter than ever before.

"Did he get down on one knee and all? The works? He cried , didn't he?" Sirius crows,
turning to Lily gleefully.

She rolls her eyes, prickly, even when her face is a picture of delight, "That's private. Mind
your business."

"He fucking did." Sirius leers.

"It's a big deal!" James admits with a flush, stepping back, "I'm not afraid of my emotions. I
bloody bawled."

Lily sidesteps Sirius with a pitchy laugh and buries herself in Remus' chest. She almost
vanishes in the jumper as he wraps arms around her, beaming and rosy cheeked.

"You're going to be a Potter", he laughs, happiness sweetening his voice. A muffled shriek
comes from somewhere around his chest and he presses, "Doctor Potter - it's quite catchy."

" Doctor Potter!" Euphemia exclaims tearfully, clutching her chest and shaking her head into
Fleamont's shoulder.

"Alright, Mum, settle." James chuckles, tutting, although he looks pleased all the same.

Fleamont locks eyes with Sirius and sighs, gently stroking her hair, although he's still
beaming. He knew about the proposal - James told Sirius furtively that he'd gone to his father
to ask for money for the 'wedding', wisely leaving his mother out of it. Judging by her
reaction, she'd never have been able to contain her excitement.

"Our boys are so grown. " She wails, " It feels like just yesterday I was picking them up from
football practice and they got mud all through the car and got into a fight in the back seat
over who scored a better goal. And now Sirius has a lovely boyfriend and Jamie's getting
married !"

Fleamont nods sympathetically and murmurs soothingly in her ear, and Sirius and James
exchange identical exasperated glances.

"Steady on, woman." Sirius mutters under his breath, pointedly not looking at Remus.

Fleamont's voice rises over the sound of his wife's sniffling and Remus and Lily's laughing -
Sirius glances over to see him pretending to be blinded by the ring and her throwing her head
back to laugh, face as red as her hair.

"Potters, soon to be Potters, and Potters in every way but name", he proclaims and Sirius
cheers at the last, "I think this calls for a celebration. Odgen's best Malt Scotch, older than all
you wee ones, some music, and decent food."
They cheer as one, and James crows, "Dirty pint!", which is immediately met with noises of
disdain from Remus and Lily, and a shout of glee from Sirius.

The evening trickles into night and the summer air settles heavy and warm on their skin.
Crickets chirp, beetles buzz, leaves rustle overhead and on the forest floor, and they're all
treated to at least one bug landing in their drinks. It's the unmistakable feeling of summer.

Fleamont lights up the grill, gleefully rubbing his hands together and telling anyone who'll
listen that he's brought enough porterhouse and ribeye to feed them for days. James and
Remus meander down to the cellar to bring up the drinks requested by Fleamont, and Sirius
is put in charge of the music. He wrinkles his nose at the collection - the Potters have an
eclectic mix of soft rock and decidedly too much ABBA and Earth, Wind and Fire, which
Euphemia is responsible for. It's not to his taste but he selects an Earth Wind and Fire album,
knowing that after a few glasses of wine, Euphemia will pull Fleamont into a dance and his
face will flush spectacularly, right up to his ears in the way it always does when he finds
himself the centre of attention.

The exquisite smell of meat cooking soon fills the air and Sirius and James take turns
distracting the cook with innocent conversation to sneak bits of meat off the grill behind his
back. It's a decade old hustle and although Fleamont has never admitted that he's caught on,
he smiles fondly down at the grill when he adds more food to the missing spaces.

Wine and whiskey flow freely and soon the music is almost drowned out by laughter and
shouts as Lily entertains them with horrifying stories of working at the hospital, doing her
best to get the biggest reaction out of James, who retches and squirms. Another tradition - but
poking at James' squeamishness has gotten so much more fun with her around.

Soon, empty wine bottles litter the table among dirty plates, and they settle back in their
chairs, full and content up to their eyeballs, grinning lazily, and the conversations dip in and
out, interspersed by comfortable silence.

Sirius' legs are hooked over Remus' knees so he can recline in an elegant sprawl across the
deck chair and a hand holds his leg in place, warm through his jeans and grounding in a way
that only adds to his pleasant buzz.

Remus chats idly to Fleamont about some foreign policy and Sirius drifts in and out, thinking
only of the earthy smell of the forest as the heat rises from the soil after the warm day, and
the hand on his leg, how the thumb strokes slow circles against the denim. Even when
steeped in conversation, parts of Remus are reserved only for him, dedicated to thinking of
him, touching him, devoted even when the rest of Remus is elsewhere. Sirius is an absent
party, floating contentedly between consciousness and dozing, but always, he's present in
Remus' mind, and Remus has no hesitation in displaying it, his touch a brand through the
fabric.

Mine. For all to see.

 Sirius smiles giddily up at the stars. They blanket the green canopy overhead, innumerous
and clustering this far in the country. His eyes automatically seek out the dog star, as he
always has as far back as he can remember. Then flicker to the moon, where it hangs just
over half full, a permanent reminder. Next week Remus will transform again and it will be
better. He'll go through it by himself but the raging defiance in Sirius has calmed - Remus
will keep his mind and come to no harm. He's certain of it.

The moon will wane again and Sirius will tell him of the letter he got from his late Uncle's
solicitor. An official looking letter on crisp paper, bringing with it hope. His trust fund will
become available in a few weeks. In a few weeks he'll be a free man, and the time lost to his
Honours won't matter. Not that it ever did, he thinks. Remus was right when he'd said his
degree was worth it for the sake of him doing it, all those months ago in the university tavern
- if he had never taken up his project which he grew to resent so much, he never would have
met Remus, never fallen in love with him, never helped him. It’s unthinkable. Even though
he won't get that piece of paper that denotes his year of study, he's got Remus instead. He's
worth more than anything Sirius can fathom.

He shifts and the hand on his leg squeezes once, twice, and he knows it's assuring him: We'll
go to bed soon, love, I know you're tired .

He smiles up at the moon, hanging in the same sky as his namesake. The stars should be
envious, he thinks lazily, to look down at them on this summer night, that's a blink of an eye
in the lifetime of a star.

How explosive this love is compared to a mere galaxy of supernovas.

How gentle, soft like starlight.

Chapter End Notes

If you made it all the way to the end to read this, I appreciate you so much.
I thought I'd be relieved to finish this fic but I'm actually a bit sad! I'll miss writing it.
But there's already 4ish new wolfstar fics in my drafts so I'll be back in no time.
Mwah
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