Archive of Our Own

James was sitting in the windowsill with a book in his lap. He had been for half an hour now, but he hadn't done anything, apart from scrolling on his phone and commenting on things Sirius couldn't care less about.

"Marlene and you, you’re friends, right?" James asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Yeah," Sirius replied mindlessly, while he was listening to David Bowie's voice singing about a saddening bore. Sailors in a dance hall, life on Mars. Another existence, surrealism and after having heard the song a million times he still wondered whether it was all for the drama or for the strangely relieving feeling of being completely out of control.

He waited until the final tones died away (ignoring James' sigh), until he added, "Lately I’ve come to realise that we get along very well."

“Do you think she’s pretty?”

“That’s a euphemism. Why?”

"Lily said so," James said, his voice strained.

Sirius snorted. "So what, Jamesie? Why are you asking me?" Lily's always right about everything, so why would you care for my opinion? He knew it was a petty thought, childish even, but that didn't take away the sting when James dismissed his opinion sometimes, like Lily was in possession of the absolute truth. A goddess, or a witch and she had him under her spell.

"I was just wondering," James said more defensively than necessary.

"Jealous?" Sirius asked with a smirk, while rolling on his side so that he could face James, who was now biting on the inside of his cheek. "Is the Great James Fleamont -"

"Don't use my middle name."

"– Potter insecure about his looks?"

James huffed, but couldn't hide the faint pink on his cheeks. "Did you know," he transparently changed the topic, and Sirius rolled his eyes, "that Marlene fancied you in year eight?"

"We were fourteen, I think? But yeah, she told me once."

"Yeah, she told me too," James repeated, mocking but not really. There was a careful expression on his face that Sirius was seeing more and more these days, as though Lily was projecting onto his best friend – the guy, whom of all people Sirius knew, deserved the world the most, the person she had hated for years. And rationally, he knew that she had had good reasons to ignore him, to call him a childish prat, to throw a glass of orange juice into his face, but after fifth year, James had changed. In a good way, even Sirius thought so. And even Swotty Evans must have noticed, but all she had done was give him false hope at Marlene's sweet sixteen party and a few days later, corrupt him into forgiving her.

Now, two years later, she claimed she loved him.

James’ hazel eyes behind his glasses roamed from Sirius to his desk to the Coldplay poster on the wall. And then he said, with a directness that would have made Sirius feel way too happy, had he said different words than she said you confessed you’re in love with one of your best friends.

Sirius kept staring at James while his heart skipped a beat. James stared right back. "With who?"

"With whom," Sirius corrected with a smirk that felt all wrong.

"Are you serious?" James asked. The corners of his lips went up and he tried to mask it by snorting, "Someone's been hanging around Moony too much" at the same time Sirius said, "Yes to both."

"I'm only serious -"

He forced a bark of laughter. "Lucky you."

James smile faltered a little at the comment that could have been a joke but wasn’t. His tone too severe. Honesty that he could only show to James. Or wanted to. Or couldn’t conceal.

"I mean it," James said, now softer.

Was there any use in pretending Marlene had been too drunk to remember whom she had been talking to?

"Who was it?” he pressed, as though it was a good question. As though there were possibilities. The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Me?"

Sirius coughed, raised his eyebrows and let out a disbelieving laugh. He could play it off, say yes of course, it was always you, and roll his eyes, and begin about the book in James’ lap or about football practice. However, while he thought this, the words already slipped out of his mouth. “Shit, Prongs, your ego." James would have really caught him off guard if the thought had never crossed his mind. It had though, years ago, only a few times in a theoretical way.

James cleared his throat. He ran a hand through his messy dark hair that already stood on end on the left side of his head, while Sirius looked at him with concern instead of the usual annoyed look he got when his best friend was talking about Lily – or more likely, tired of hearing him talking about Lily.

"It’s just that,” James shrugged, “you were acting all weird when Lily and I got together last year."

"I just didn't like Evans," Sirius replied.

Their words hung in the air – not the words about Lily, about fancying James, but the other words, poisonous, vicious, nauseating – until James nodded and said, "Ah." There was a faint smile on his lips. "Are you still?"

"In love with him?" Sirius felt like laughing hysterically, and at the same time he knew that he was on the verge of tears. He was sure that if he said another word, he would start crying or something equally stupid so all he did was giving a slight nod.

"Shit man." James ran his hand through his hair again and again, looking like a GIF,  until he got out of the windowsill and lay down on his own bed next to Sirius. They were too old and everything, all gangly limbs and pointy elbows, but it was comforting in a way Sirius, affection-starved as he was, would always crave. “It’ll be alright,” James told the ceiling.

Sirius, for once, kept silent and joined James in Staring At The Ceiling. Not long after, James’ light snoring filled the silent room. Easy sleeper. No nightmares. No more lying awake than actual sleeping. Purple under your eyes, heavy hearts, white lies. Be alright. It will be.

Sometimes he wanted to shake James, to mix some terrible reality unbeknownst to happy endings with his childlike optimism. But mostly, he wished he could believe what James believed, see what James saw, places full of light.

-

Sirius woke up in James' bed, which happened more than sporadically, but they never told anyone. People would start thinking all kind of weird things. He guessed that was a thing inherently human.

It took him a while to find the switch from the lamp on the nightstand. A second later, his eyes were hurting and James woke up, staring at the light bulb as though it were possible to turn it of by sheer will. Clearly, his supposedly excellent reflexes were asleep still.

"Like a deer in the headlights," Sirius murmured.

James groaned and rolled onto his stomach, burying his face in his pillow. "This my bed righ'?"

"Yeah. I'll turn of the light," and the room went comfortably dark again, both of them in James' king-size bed in the middle of the night, and just like back then, he felt the urge to confess. As though the dark silhouettes would protect and harbour his secrets.

"Prongs?"

"Bugger, 's in the middle o' the night."

"Had you never noticed before? That I fancy Moony, I mean."

"'d Been wondering, yeah. 'bout him too but he's so damn... dunno... still don' understand 'im... talk t’morrow..."

It was tomorrow already. But sure. Sirius tried very hard to fall asleep.

-

"Doing your homework last minute again?" Remus asked with a little smile when he sat down on the chair opposite Sirius.

"Hmm."

"I thought so."

Sirius sent him a look and threw his pen on the table, all for the show. Remus chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Better late than never, I guess.”

He was wearing a dark green jumper that hung loosely on his slender frame, exposing a collar bone. The sleeves were rolled up. Delicate wrists, blue veins, and a faded scar. Careful fingers, bitten nails, a light birthmark on the back of his left hand. He was soft rain and poetry. Silent libraries and storms. A reflection of his whole appearance. Messy and soft. With sharp edges, and strangely elegant, in a way that drew in too many girls and guys who wanted.

Artfully dishevelled and all that.

It was hard to believe that there was anyone who was as far gone for Remus as he was. Sometimes he took his breath away, just by doing something that should have been trivial. Like now. Better late than never I guess.

Fucking hell, get your shit together. The way he smiled at him though. He wasn’t sure anymore if it was a smile that existed just for him or if he just wanted it to be.

Remus glanced at James, who was sitting next to him. He looked very tired for his standards. Remus  slowly put his bag down, looked at Sirius quizzically and back at James. "Do I want to know what this is?" he asked carefully.

"Prat woke me up six times, and this morning, I woke up on the ground."

"Which is your own fault, Prongs.” Sirius closed his textbook.

Next to him, he heard Peter making a high pitched sound. "You still sleep in each other's beds?"

"Correction," James said, ignoring whatever Peter was saying between the lines together with the nasty remark on the tip of Sirius’ tongue. "Sirius just falls asleep in my bed."

"What would –" Peter began, and Sirius stopped listening. One day, people had to realise that that boy wasn’t that innocent.

Finally, Sirius looked up and found that Remus was looking at him with that soft expression in his bright eyes. He had not determined the colour after all those years of seeing them, examining, staring. Sometimes they looked unusually amber, but in the tender glowing light of the afternoon that fell through the large windows of the cafeteria, they were a perfect brown, a few shades darker than his hair.

He smiled that smile that was barely there – his left eyebrow raised a little, his lips slightly parted and Sirius caught himself wondering if he would ever find out if they were as soft as they looked. It left him aching in his chest, and it was in moments like this that he was sure that Remus had deeper feelings for him, too – maybe not the same as his, but just that he felt different about Sirius than he felt about James and Peter. And it was also in moments like this, when Remus was looking at him, that he was sure that the other boy was aware of the intense way in which Sirius kept falling for him, but that there was something holding him back from talking or acting. He had to ask. One day. When he would have found the courage and the strength to face a rejection. Because that would follow. It didn’t make sense, but it did. That was just how it was.

He shook himself out of his toxic train of thought.

"How are you, Moons?" he asked.

"I'm fine." His smile widened and he canted his head, flopping his curls into his eyes. "Are you?"

"Hmm," Sirius hummed.

Remus took a heavy lunchbox out of his bag, his mother's doing. He rolled his eyes. "She thinks I'll starve."

"You won't starve."

"I know."

But still. Sometimes Sirius was just as worried.

Remus looked at Sirius, away and at Sirius and his cheeks turned slightly pink and then he looked down at the table. "Stop staring at me, you idiot," he said, but his smile took away the venom.

James flailed his arm aimlessly, only hitting his own bag. "Stop flirting, you giant tossers. I need to sleep."

-

He had barely drunk. That's a mistake, he thought. A question asked in a game of Truth or Dare. What's the most stupid thing you have done while drunk? It implied that in a drunken state one did different things than when one was sober. Balancing on the edge of a rooftop, confessing secrets to strangers (and/or hooking up with them) or kissing your friends. It just meant that people assumed you had to be drunk to do stupid things. Maybe there were different states of drunkenness.

He couldn't think straight. Everything was more sensations than actual concepts. He drank more expensive wine. Marlene had handed him the bottle – "Hold my liquor, Sirius" – before she headed upstairs, where some year eleven students were bawling as though they were in Circus Maximus.

He wasn't sure if she’d just wanted him to look after it, but after spotting James and Evans on the couch in the living room, he looked the other way and saw Remus laughing about something Nymphadora Tonks whispered in his ear, laughing, laughing, her pink hair so bright that it almost hurt his eyes, so he thought fuck it. Strangely coherent.

-

"Does Marlene know you're chugging her dad's expensive wine like you're dehydrated?"

Sirius turned around and nodded convincingly. "She gave it to me."

Remus grinned his lopsided smile while shaking his head. "Yeah, I saw that. But I don't think she wanted you to drain it in a few minutes."

Sirius shrugged. Remus' sweater was hanging around his shoulders and his hair was almost as messy as James'. Sirius wanted to brush it out of his face and then push his fingers through it while he kissed Remus' slightly red lips.

"Wanna go outside?" Remus asked. There was a strange glint in his eyes, but before Sirius could interpret it, he turned away. He touched his arm, a gesture that got lost in the crowd they crawled themselves a way through and Sirius could not help but seeing it as a bad metaphor, the consequences of endless loyalty in an enormous mass of deception and the-universe-will-not-surrender-to-your-desires. If only he could let go of the desperate way in which he wanted.

The night air felt cool against his skin. For some stupid reason, like it was looming, always, in every corner, even when he could barely remember basics like James’ birthday, he was caught by one of his worst memories. If he turned back time, he would see himself without a place to go, not a single star visible in the night sky. He had considered going to Remus, but decided that the Lupin's would ask difficult questions, while the Potter's would just take him in, lovingly, because. Just, because. Some people did not need a reason to be good.

However, he had found himself wanting Remus, Moony, with his gentle voice, to not tell him that it would be okay, but that it was okay and fucked up, but okay still, and that was when he realised – in a daze, while frantic thoughts were racing through his mind, making everything he had unconsciously been hiding for so long known in the most brutal way – that no, Remus Lupin was not a friend like James.

Afterwards, when he had calmed down, there were other things to think of and it wasn't that he saw Remus again after summer holidays, looking taller, older, almost unfamiliar – but he was just Remus Lupin, and he stared at Sirius like he was terrified. With soft finger pads, he had traced the remnants of a slash with a belt.

He should have said something. He had zero restraint, normally. Why hadn't he said anything?

He took another gulp from the bottle and sat down on the bench at the side of Marlene's enormous villa. Remus looked at him sternly. Sirius didn't know if he wanted to slap the expression of his face or kiss him until he would forget that Sirius was Sirius Black and that it was impossible to fall in love with him. At least, that shook him out of his daze. And he was fully aware of everything about Remus that made him want to claw his own eyes out.

"Really, Sirius," Remus said disapproving. "It's not good for you."

"I can judge that myself, thanks," Sirius snapped, although warmth spread through him because Remus cared enough about him to confiscate the bottle (that was only filled for a quarter now). Pathetic.

"You're a shit judge," Remus said irritated.

"I don't fucking care."

He stilled. Sirius could almost see the invisible walls that were flying up. He didn't know which one of them was worse.

"Maybe you will tomorrow, when you realise you've picked a fight with some bloke you should've just stayed away from. Or when random people are talking about you like you were some kind of a manwhore."

Sometimes, whispered a small voice in the back of his head, sometimes, Remus is as good at being mean as you are.

"Most certainly," Sirius said nonetheless. "You know what? Thank you for thinking I'm an imbecile." He was going to find James and do something to distract him from the drumming in his ears – but Remus grabbed his wrist.

"Sirius."

"Stop fucking watching over me."

Remus huffed. "Okay," he said coldly, the same way one agreed to say told you.

"I mean it, I'm not gonna sit here all evening with you looking all lame and pathetic."

"What?" Remus spat out. He breathed in. "I didn't... I... God, you're impossible.” He looked away. “You were being miserable on your own so I thought we could do something fun together?"

"Fun?” He laughed harshly. “Weird definition of fun you have, Moony."

"If you'd rather stare at James and Lily, fine."

"At least that'd be better than you being your prefect-self."

"There's nothing wrong with –"

"Maybe you should just find Tonks and stick your tongue down her throat on top of a table so that everyone’ll think you’re perfectly normal and you don’t have to worry about whether that crazy bloke will embarrass you." He took another sip.

Remus' eyes went wide. His cheeks burned red and when he spoke, his voice burned, too. "Why are you being such an arse?" His arm was a blur and then the bottle of wine went floating through the air, too slow to be real. A moment later, it shattered on the asphalt on the other side of the bushes with a clattering sound that made Sirius cringe a little.

Remus gave him a funny look, probably embarrassed with himself, and then averted his gaze.

After a few silent moments in which they both gathered themselves, he said in a normal voice, "Tonks and I were just talking.”

The you know I’m not into girls went unsaid, and in all honesty, Sirius was not entirely sure if that was the case. After that one time of Sirius and James walking into the locker room where Remus and Caradoc Dearborn were standing rather flustered and close to each other, they’d just assumed. Remus hadn’t denied or confirmed anything. Sirius and James hadn’t asked. Maybe Sirius should have asked.

“She told me about a friend,” Remus continued, “this guy who’ll need new people to share rent with next year, as his current flatmates are graduating this year."

"Really?” Sirius said, playing along. “That's great. Really." It was, though.

Remus was living with his parents and he wanted to move out. Not because they were bad people, but because they were smothering him. That was another kind of damage. Strict rules, wanting to monitor your child twenty four seven. Sometimes Sirius wondered if it had something to do with Remus' secretive manners and his stubborn pride and his stupid ideas that he didn’t need anyone to help him, not ever.

And then he wondered what his own upbringing had left to him. And what of him was him. The darkness in his chest. So mostly, he did not think about anyone's parents who was not James.

"I’m just looking around a bit," Remus said. "But yeah. I'm going to move." He kept silent. "Padfoot?" His voice was soft and gentle around the old nickname.

"Moony," Sirius replied automatically.

"I'm going to miss you so much."

Alarm bells ringing in his head were dulled by the haze of drunkenness.

"Me too," Sirius said. He knew Remus was talking about next year – a few months, actually, when they would go to university. They would still see each other, but it would be different. (The thought that their friendship could fall apart was too much to bear.)

However, Sirius was thinking about right now. He missed him right now, even though he was right here. There was no James, whom Sirius adored but who never had been the subject to his thoughts in that way of a longing in your chest, or a Peter with his endless stupid remarks, who had probably long since guessed that it wasn't casual, the way Sirius sometimes stared at Remus. And maybe he had ceased to see Remus objectively a long time ago.

"Pads," Remus said a bit urgently so that Sirius would look at him. His eyes roamed over Sirius' face, bright and confused. He stretched out his hand and tugged a strand of Sirius' dark hair behind his ear. "We – next year... You'll always be my best friend, you know?"

"Yeah," he said vaguely.

"Hey. Why are you so... I don't know. Sad?" Again, he lifted his hand. But now he brushed against Sirius' cheek with his thumb. It moved downwards and Sirius felt a bit heady. Tentative fingers and warm skin. He leaned into the touch and for a moment, he worried that he had alarmed Remus, but Remus only started brushing his cheek with his thumb again. "You're always... It’s like I don’t really understand you. Sometimes I think we're fine but then we start to argue, and to be honest," he let out a little laugh as though he could not believe that he was saying this out loud, "it always scares me a little bit."

-

The next day, everything was heavy. James came in around eleven o’ clock when he was done with football training.

"Hey, tosser, still asleep?"

He breathed in sharply when he got no reaction. "Remus texted me to tell you he has your phone. You left it on a bench or something... Mum and Dad aren't home, but Lily's over and we'll just be downstairs if you need anything."

The door closed.

"What's wrong with him?" a voice that sounded too much like Evans’ asked.

"Nothing," James said with a hint of finality in his voice that said she should not ask any further. "He's just tired."

That was a perfect description and at the same time, it did not cover what he felt, at all.

-

James and Evans were on the sofa, watching the television. The policeman with the shit eating grin on his face while the policewoman tried very hard to look offended – but failed phenomenally. In the end, James and Lily Evans had been like that. Lily was lying with her head on his chest, wearing what seemed to be one of James' hoodies with the logo of a football club. She did her best to mask her frown, but did not quite succeed. James turned a little so that he could look Sirius in the eye. He paused the television.

"Have you eaten already?" James asked. "And how's the head?"

-

Sirius knew Remus hated seeing him like this, but his expression was carefully masked, and he just walked towards the bed and sat down very slowly. He was wearing a white shirt and grey trousers. And his oldest Chuck Taylors, Sirius noticed.

"You can lie down if you wanna." Why did his voice have to sound so hoarse?

Remus just smiled and lay down on his left side, facing Sirius.

The familiarity of it was like coming home. Sirius and Remus together, just lying without any need to stumble over unnecessary words. Remus' hand touched Sirius’ wrist and his eyes were beautiful. That would be true, always. Even if they were trained on someone who was not him, if they were full of hurt – and if their rage was directed at him. Now they were just soft, and a bit sad.

"Are you okay?” Remus asked after a while.

A dull ache settled in Sirius' stomach. Okay. Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay. Somehow, the word had lost its meaning.

"I... I just have to ask. Has this something to do with yesterday?"

Sirius blinked. "No. I mean... no?" It had nothing to do with anything anyone could control, not even he himself. "You don't have to be here, and, I dunno..."

"But if I wanted to?"

-

"You're where?" Remus' voice appeared to sound calm, but even in his dazed, just woken up state, to Sirius, Remus sounded too strained. It took Sirius a few seconds to notice his phone and to connect the dots.

"He wasn't feeling well after yesterday, I'm just checking on him."

Sirius could not quite make out the words on the other end of the line, but he saw Remus' jaw clench. Next moment there were footsteps in the hall downstairs.

Remus hung up and threw his phone onto the mattress. "It's my dad. He's furious." His amber eyes were sparkling with rage. At least it's not directed at me. He opened his mouth, but changed his mind when the footsteps were heard on the stairs and he got up and said, before disappearing and closing the door behind him, "I'm sorry, Pads. Forgive me, but I really gotta go. I'll talk to you later."

-

Sirius was confined to spending the rest of the evening with Evans and James, playing a stupid board game only James seemed to enjoy.

"Ha!" he shrieked, in an unintentional but perfect imitation of Walburga Black. "Got you, Padfoot!" He threw Sirius' knight towards the couch.

Sirius considered letting the whole board follow. "This game doesn't make sense at all. That's why you like it so much, isn't it?"

James huffed. "Are you insulting my intelligence?"

"Since when can things that aren't there be insulted, Prongs? I'll have another card. Oh, it says turn around." He picked up the board and turned it around on James' head.

James grabbed his card and looked at it. "You have to read the whole thing!"

“That’s not in the rules.”

“That’s common sense!” He got up in a swift motion and flicked Sirius head with the now empty board. "I'm going to get us some drinks. What'd you guys want?"

He was gone before he got an answer, leaving Sirius alone in the room with Bloody Evans, who hadn't said a word in at least the last... what was it? Half an hour?

She looked amused instead of annoyed, which, Sirius had to admit, was an improvement.

"I was wondering what's up with the nicknames," she suddenly asked.

"So?"

"You're Padfoot. He's Prongs, Remus is Moony and Peter is Wormtail. I've tried to ask James, but he won't give me a normal answer. It's almost like he's forgotten why."

Sirius smirked. "Prying on secrets, are we, Evans?"

She opened her mouth defensively, but Sirius shook his head and bowed towards her. "Don't tell him I told you, promise?"

"Promise," she said.

"We can do magic. We can transform into animals."

She sat up.

"But I'm not going to tell you what animals. I can't, sorry."

She glanced at the door.

"Prongs!" Sirius called. "You still alive?"

James answered affirming, which Evans apparently saw as a sign to talk to Sirius more. She carded a hand through her dark red hair.

"Nervous?" he asked, raising one eyebrow. "Did you put poison in his cup?"

She let out a confused laugh. That’s a first. Maybe, just maybe, the rest of the evening could be interesting. But she breathed in, sat straight up in an imitation of all the times she had crushed James' heart while playing a game, and he could not really help but think that she would do it again, someday – and maybe that was his own scarring, his fragile trust and his terrible fear of losing because sometimes things went astray, no matter how hard you tried.

But then again, he saw the tension in her shoulders and for the first time, he really looked her in the eye and saw her as the eighteen year old girl she was, not omniscient but trying to keep her head up.

"I was wondering," she said, her voice clear, "why do you dislike me so much?"

He laughed. "Do you have an hour? Or do you want to make an appointment?"

"Why?"

Because you're trying to seem a better person than you are. Because you've been leading James on for months to contain your pride. Because you think being a scholarship student means that everyone who doesn't like you doesn't like you because your parents do not have millions and it never occurred to you that they do not like you because of your personality. Because you're nice to people who are considered "abnormal" to feel good about yourself, not because you like them as a person. You're always patronising Alice in the wheelchair, but she got an A on the chemistry test eighty percent of the students failed. You said, "Dorcas" and some girl asked, "Dorcas?" and you said, "the black girl over there, we've been friends since we were eleven." Last week, you literally said, "Caradoc is so funny and cute, I love gay boys." You told Marlene that she should stop kissing girls for attention, because she had been perfectly straight for sixteen years. Would you like me if I told you everything about myself?

And, he added ironically, you've been hopelessly in love with one of your best friends for at least two years. Double points.

"I'm not sure anymore," was what Sirius said out loud. "If you stick around, maybe one day we'll be friends."

Not hurting one's best friend's girlfriend. The Good Deed of Today. James would not see the fun of it, but if he told Remus later, he would smile in that oh my god you're unbelievable-way.

-

"So I didn't tell her all that," he said, while turning around on the chair by Remus' desk, so that he could face Remus, who was sitting on his bed. "I told her that if she'll stick around, we'll be friends one day."

Remus huffed and said, "Wow, you're so nice, I can't even," but at the same time, his lips curled in a smile, one between disbelieving, genuine and exasperated.

Sirius could not help but grin like an idiot.

"How are you?" he asked after a minute that made Sirius breathless somehow.

"Fine," he said. "Pretty good, actually."

"Good," Remus breathed. "I like seeing you happy."

It was a good thing, maybe, that he was sitting on his bed, six feet away, so that he couldn't see every detail on Sirius' face. "I like seeing you happy, too."

Remus averted his gaze towards the window. Outside, it was raining. Sirius hated rain, but when together with Remus in his childhood room, that probably had not changed much since he had been seven years old and such a nerd that he wanted a poster of the world map instead of one of some cartoon show, he felt strangely safe and content.

In general, he and Remus had always spent a lot of time together, just the two of them, from the beginning, because even though he and James shared a love for mischief and adventure, with Remus he had something else. There was no explanation. They just clicked. Twelve years old and far from normal.

They had grown into misunderstood eighteen year olds. They still understood each other. There were periods in which they saw each other less, and periods like the last half year had been, where they saw each other daily and texted all the time. If he wanted to get over Remus, he should start making new friends, going out without him and all those things – but he did not really want to. There was no getting over Remus, anyway.

He looked at the lines Remus had drawn on the poster.

"We're going to visit the United States one day, right?" Sirius asked. One of his uncles lived there, in Michigan. A few years ago during Christmas, right after insulting Walburga, he’d asked Sirius if he would like to visit him some time. He still sent Sirius birthday cards.

"Of course," Remus replied.

"When?"

"After university."

"That's years."

"There's time," Remus said, his eyes never leaving Sirius.

Sirius canted his head. He knew that Remus was repeating the words that he had heard so many times he had lost count. Sirius still found himself not believing them, and by the look in Remus' eyes, he did not either.

"What if there is not?"

"I don't know.” Remus bit his lip. “Do you ever feel like you’re just wasting time?”

“Jesus. All the time.”

"Sometimes I really have to remind myself that we're only eighteen and that there is still so much time left to have things I cannot have now."

Sirius wanted to close his eyes and he wanted to drink in the sight of his best friend. “I know,” Sirius said, more honest than he ever was with James. Remus understood. Part of him always believed that there was no time, only occasions and choices, and that it was wrong, always. And that it was a longing in his chest, a desperate longing for a million lives.

"It’s strange," Remus said softly. "Time. Running out of time. Is it true for you though?"

"What d'you mean?"

"What if next time, you... I don't even know what it is that happens to you. Have you ever talked to someone?"

"To you. All the time. And James. Although he... just worries too much."

He nodded but went on, "I meant someone who has –'

"What are you afraid of? You just said it yourself, there’s no need to worry about this shit."

"Pads... This is about you."

"I don't know." The words seemed out of context, but Remus seemed to understand. He nodded.

-

Later, they had dinner in the small kitchen that did not look as much like a home as the one at the Potter's, but it was endurable, a hundred times more than the one in the Black household. Three people at the dinner table. Too many empty seats – but better empty than filled with cruel family members. Regulus.

It had something to do with the uncomfortable silence. Mr. Lupin had told about his work, but it had sounded forced and Sirius wondered why Mrs. Lupin had invited Sirius to dinner.

She had called when they were in Remus' room, that his friend could stay for dinner, the more the merrier, and Remus' face fell. Now, Sirius guessed that his mother had seen the denim jacket next to Remus' coat and thought that it was James' – which was true, but just before Sirius had left, the prat had nicked Sirius' leather jacket and pretended to be Danny Zuko. Evans had laughed too hard and kissed him, so Sirius just took James' jacket and left.

"Shall I help washing up?" Sirius asked.

Remus kicked him under the table. Mrs. Lupin smiled thankfully, and the silence continued.

-

He closed the door and leaned his head against the wood. "I'm glad that's over."

"They care for you."

"They think I can't do anything myself. Choose my friends, do my homework, have a life –"

"Doing your homework and having a life?" Sirius asked incredulously.

Remus shoved his shoulder and rolled his eyes, but he continued, "Like I need to be watched over constantly. It's suffocating."

"I know," said Sirius.

"I'll probably regret saying that."

"Sometime, maybe."

They sat together on Remus' bed, shoulder to shoulder. "She probably thought it was James that was here."

"Yeah. I'd figured that out."

"She has no reason to act the way she does towards you," Remus said, suddenly forcefully.

"Maybe she's heard things."

"Like what? She must have talked to your old folks. I hate that she believes that you're, I don't even know, evil or something."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Evil?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "I don't know. She doesn't like Lily either. But she likes James a lot. And Caradoc." He grimaced. "I'll never understand her."

"Why, don't you adore James and Caradoc?" Sirius said, and a voice in the back of his head told him to cut the shite.

He opened his mouth, closed it again and pulled a face and settled for a frowning, "James, sure. But she keeps asking about Caradoc. I was fifteen.”

"When what?" Sirius asked, while his heart started beating a little faster.

"You know, you prat," Remus shoved him again so that he fell on his back, the soft mattress underneath him, but he was laughing as though it regarded just a stupid thing he’d done when he was younger – thinking the whole world drives on the left side of the road, almost drowning in a lake, mispronouncing a word without realising. “We were never even properly dating, and...” When he noticed Sirius wicked grin, his expression changed to alarmed. "What are –"

Sirius got up in a flash – James would have been proud of him – and pinned Remus to the mattress. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"Nothing new, Pads." His playful smile faded to soft to barely there, his eyes wide. Sirius was sure he could drown in them, and he would die happily. His senses were too much, but not enough. Their faces were too close to each other. He tried to ignore it.

“Moony! You never told me about Caradoc.”

“Well, you never asked.” He averted his eyes to someplace next to Sirius’ head and added almost timidly, “Maybe I wanted you to.”

Sirius’ face fell. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Remus said, shaking his head.

“I’m a fucking idiot.” He realised how forcefully his fingers were wrapped around Remus’ wrists. He loosened his grip, but did not let go, even though this sure as hell was not the best position to have a serious conversation in.

“No, Sirius. At that time, maybe, but I never said anything either, did I?”

“I should have realised.”

“I kind of tried to keep it from you. That, you know, I was gay.” He breathed in. “It’s stupid, because at the same time, I wanted you to realise.”

“Why?”

Remus just looked at him.

There was no way that was not –

Was there?

While his heart beat in his throat, Sirius leaned in, very slowly, giving Remus enough time to shove him away, to jab a knee in his thigh, to laugh and say that he was just joking – but he did not do all of those things, giving Sirius permission to lean in closer, to study his face closer up than ever – the green sparks in his brown eyes, the pupils blown wide, the freckles on the bridge of his nose. The curve of his lips. He was mesmerising.

Courage? Strength? Sirius only knew that this was it, his breaking point, restrained had snapped, leaving him in empty space.

His nose bumped into Remus’, and then he touched his lips to Remus', lightly, softly, afraid to startle him if he went to fast, afraid he himself would combust with happiness and desire.

They were in an extremely uncomfortable position, and his left hand was still curled around Remus' wrist, but it was perfect because it was Remus, because finally, because the longing in his chest, because it was absolute bliss and his mind went blank while at the same time all he could think was Remus  and oh my god Moony, I'm so in love with you.

A first kiss should not be something that made you think that you could die happy right now, but they had known each other for a long time, and Sirius had wanted this for so long.

When he pulled away, he saw that Remus' cheeks were pink and there was a giddy smile on his face that faltered a little when his eyes met Sirius' and Sirius realised that he was on the verge of tears.

Sirius sat up and Remus followed suit. Remus stretched his hand, cradled Sirius' face and brushed his thumb over his lips. "Hey, Pads? Is this okay? Are you okay? I didn't mean to... " His breath hitched in his throat and he started biting his lip.

Sirius laughed, a tad hysterically. "Does it look like I'm objecting?"

"No. Sirius." He was a little breathless and Sirius wished he could keep the way Remus was looking at him forever, capture this moment on the bridge of something new, part of him was afraid that there would be no stable ground on the other side and that the only option would be to drown, but he had left his phone in James' jacket and he had no idea where Remus' was, so he just kept staring while his heart beat to a frantic rhythm in his chest.

"Is this weird?" Remus asked frowning after a while.

"No."

Remus raised his eyebrows.

"Maybe a little. But I don't care."

"Me neither." He leaned in again.

And as though the universe decided that there could not be too many agreements around them, the door flew open wide and Mr. Lupin appeared, not looking like he was pleased to see what he saw at all.

"Why did you close the door?"

Remus' face fell, he jerked his hand away, his eyes still wide, but for a different reason.

"I called you and you didn't respond. Can you come downstairs?"

"Now?"

"Yes, now." Not in a minute, not in a moment, but now. He looked across Sirius' face and said, "I think it's time for you to go."

-

He forgot to check his phone when he walked back home, a million thoughts tumbling through his mind, a thousand moments that could have been before.

The front door jerked open before he had found his key.

"Where the fuck have you been?" demanded James snapping Sirius out of his daze. His hair stood on end like he’d stuck his fingers in an electrical outlet.

“Well?”

"Hey, Prongsie. Just at Remus'. Why?"

"Why?" James mimicked his casual tone with a furious look in his eyes. "I've messaged you if you would be home for dinner. Then I called you three times and it's – almost nine!"

He blinked a few times. The restless energy settled down in his stomach and was burned way by acid. Something was set on fire. "So you haven't heard from me for six hours. You didn't think of calling Remus or Pete maybe, or Marlene?"

"Marlene's been with Lily, you never go to Pete alone and – well, I didn't want to worry Remus. I thought about calling Regulus, Sirius."

"Why? Is it his birthday?" Cruelty deep in your bones. The inability to empathise.

"You're unbelievable! I don't know what I was supposed to think!" He said loudly in order to let his frustration get through Sirius' thick skull. He kept staring while the anger in his eyes was replaced by something softer. Something he probably did not really deserve. His chest tightened.

Where James had made him recall a mad genius a few moments ago, now he’d managed to look like a child who had fallen into a river, still shaken by shock. It had something to do with his bare feet, shorts, big hoodie Sirius had never seen before. Then he met James’ eyes again. It was weird how sometimes, he made Sirius feel ashamed of himself.

The corner of his mouth turned up, a little I’m sorry. James bit his lip.

“So,” Sirius began carefully, “was there a bathroom flood or something?”

James sighed. “Not really. Doesn’t matter. Are you...”

Before he could finish, Sirius rushed forward a little too wild, too fast, and he embraced his best friend, his best brother. “I was with Moony and then –“

 “It’s okay. Of course. Let’s go inside first? Mum and dad were worried, too.”

They went inside, where Mrs. Potter pressed him against her chest and Mr. Potter laid a gentle hand on his shoulder while he said he was glad Sirius was okay.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realise you expected me to be home and I thought it was obvious I would be at the Lupin's if I weren't here."

"Was Peter there, too?" James asked suddenly.

He pulled a face. "No?"

"Nevermind. I asked him and Pete come over this morning. Just the four of us, like back then. They both had a shit excuse."

Sirius felt that he was taken back a bit by the accusing tone and to his surprise, James looked almost sad.

He threw a quick glance at Mrs. Potter who touched her husband’s hand and together they disappeared to the living room. James rolled his eyes, counted silently to ten, and then they heard the sounds of some television show.

"What did Remus say?"

"That he was tired.” James frowned at the wall. “Apparently not that tired."

"His parents thought I was you because of the jacket and accidentally invited me." Sirius dug his phone out of the large pockets and saw the missed calls and messages from James. He quickly texted Remus to ask if he was okay.

"Have you heard from Pete?" James pushed.

"Nope," he said, slightly distracted. "I don't know. I kissed him." He looked up to see James' eyes grow wide in astonishment, equal disbelief and worry.

"What? You... you kissed him."

"That's what I said."

"How did he react?"

"He touched my face and asked if this was okay. And if it was weird and I said I didn't care if it was and he said he didn't either and then his father burst in the room and demanded that I leave." He paused. As far as he knew, Remus' parents were strict, but not completely irrational, or at least not the kind of people who would disown their son for kissing another boy or lock him in a cupboard or beat him to death or throw so many slurs at him that he would collapse and forget that he was loved by others, worth loving.

His chest tightened and he felt a wave of nausea. Please text me back.

"Well, was it?" James snapped him out of his thought. He sat down at the kitchen table, expectantly. "Weird, I mean. Can you please sit down?"

"Sure." Sirius sat down next to him. "It wasn't weird, I think."

"But you didn't talk about it?" James insisted.

"There wasn't time."

"Are you okay though?"

"Yes. What're you on about? It's not as though I've corrupted him or something."

He shook his head and took of his glasses. "Are you thinking straight?"

"Straight?"

He let out an exasperated sigh, but did not go along with the joke. "I meant clearly," he said earnestly, while carefully studying Sirius' face. "You've fancied him for a long time, in a very intense way. But he's unreadable – did you notice he's always finding excuses to touch you? But apart from that? I just don't want you to get hurt because he's confused and giving you false hope when he'll decide he doesn't like you that way."

"James."

"He's been lonely for a long time, too, I think. Actually, I think he still is and I wouldn't know, but – if you're lonely, you cannot always think clearly and you just –  if there's someone who offers you affection... Sirius, if there's anyone who could hurt you –"

-

i'm fine. don't worry.
but can we talk tomorrow?

They were sent at 2.34 PM and normally, the sound notifications were turned off, but he had been waiting for Remus to answer since he asked him how he was doing, so they woke him up like he had not been sleeping at all. Now that he was thinking about it, he had seen the green digits of the alarm clock at 0.00 and at 1.04.

He briefly considered going back to sleep, but when he saw that Remus was still online, he called him.

"Hey, Pads." Remus' whispering voice in the dark was strangely familiar. They had talked to each other for hours in the middle of the night when Sirius had been at Grimmauld Place still and the endless nightmares kept Remus awake. "Did I wake you up?"

"Yeah," he replied softly but not quite whispering. "I wasn't really sleeping anyway. How's your old man?"

"Not happy. Not mad either. The usual I'm not mad at you, I'm just disappointed." He could almost see the eye roll. "Which is weird, considering it’s not because he still hopes I’ll marry a woman but because of you."

Sirius went silent and his stomach turned around. "Me," he whispered.

"Sirius, don’t worry,” he said a bit urgently. “My father confiscated my phone and hid it in a drawer in the kitchen. I sneaked out to get it when I was sure he was asleep, but I'm afraid he'll wake up. We'll talk tomorrow, if that's okay with you?"

He nodded, although Remus could not see him. "I'll see you tomorrow, Moony. Goodnight."

"Try to sleep, Padfoot."

-

Did he remember falling for Remus? Not really. He had always been, on some level, ever since that first day of secondary school he caught Sirius' attention. It was something in the way he did everything. Politely, terribly composed for a twelve year old but sometimes, when a teacher or another student voiced an unpopular opinion, he would look up with a cold gaze and sometimes he came to school in a feral haze, something crawling beneath his skin.

It had taken Sirius some time to finally talk to him – in October, when the leaves were falling down and everything got darker.

Sirius and James were sat in the library in a poor attempt at studying. They argued for an hour about French verbs, bringing in arguments that had nothing to do with the subject, until James felt that he was losing and conjured the help of the boy who was sitting at the table next to theirs. He pulled of his headphones when James tapped his shoulder.

"Do you speak French?"

He frowned. "Not really."

"You're in our French class though. We were wondering if you knew why..." He looked at his textbook. "Why is it that..."

"Jesus," Sirius snapped and punched James in his side. "We were talking about rats, and if they could kill you. But it's not important. I'm leaving." He pulled James with him and looked at the boy. Remus. Raised by the wolves. Lupin. A cruel joke. It was intriguing, still sane, just strange enough. "Do you want to come with us?"

"Where we going, Black?" James asked.

"Buying a rat, Jamesie."

Afterwards, Sirius was not sure how he and James had managed to make Remus come with them and like them, but from that point on, they were James, Sirius, Peter and Remus.

In another life, Sirius and James would have been brothers by blood, and in another life, Sirius would never have looked at Peter twice, and about Remus, there was something he did not get.

James said that he was like a tortured poet, with his formal clothing, quiet manners and sudden morbid comments. He did have a point there and maybe because of that, Sirius knew he understood in a way that James, for all his nobleness would never get, what it was like wanting to be someone else, another acquaintance of the Lord of Desperate Longing and the Queen of There's A Darkness I Cannot Escape.

-

There were arms thrown around him from behind. His heart missed a beat and he turned around to look Remus in the eye. The first time he saw him today, after endless classes about dead poets and imaginary numbers while James was doodling a football field, dots with initials and arrows marking strategies, while Sirius wondered why he did not have one class with Remus, even though they basically studied the same subjects. His mind had been elsewhere which had earned him a you're here for your own good, it's not my problem if you fail from his English teacher – and although he was sure she was right most of the time, she was not completely now.

Remus tugged at the cuffs of his coat – a sign of nervousness – which could mean anything and nothing. He was wearing his black coat over a plain white T-shirt that matched Sirius'. His curls were falling into his eyes now. Sirius brushed them back softly, partly because affection between them had always been easy, maybe because of what happened yesterday. They were at the length where he would get a haircut and they would look composed for a while, just curling around his ears, which was perfect because then he could not hide. But secretly, Sirius loved it when his hair was longer and tousled, because it was adorable, and that was not exactly the right word, but it was something along those lines, definitely.

Remus smiled, almost shyly, so agonisingly beautiful that Sirius wouldn't mind standing here like this, in this moment until the end of time.

He was so absolutely fucked.

In the best way possible.

In the most terrible way, would Remus decide that...

"Take a walk?" Remus asked.

-

They walked around aimlessly, but if you were with the right person, you could sit in an open field all day with nothing to do – a closet if you did not have a kind of claustrophobia, that maybe was something else, that made you jittery and dizzy, that was not inherited but inflicted.

Some commonplace platitudes did not fit and some were so perfect that sometimes Sirius could not help but think that it was all a joke.

He bought a take away coffee.

"Because you're almost falling asleep?" Remus asked amused.

"Because I like coffee," Sirius said. "Why you asking, Moons? Don't I look dashing?"

He handed the paper cup over to Remus, who huffed but took a sip anyway. He pulled a face.

Sirius shoved his shoulder. They continued walking in a comfortable silence while Sirius slowly drank his coffee. They passed the familiar shops, even some people who greeted them and an elder couple with faces like they never showed emotion that greeted Remus out of cold politeness, but ignored Sirius.

"Good evening," Sirius said in a joyful tone. He was ignored. "Acquaintances of my parents’," he clarified when he could feel his friend's gaze. He finished the coffee until the last drop and folded the cup in one of the pockets of his leather jacket.

"You know," Sirius said, when they reached the end of the street, the beginning of the forest. "There are a lot of people I never know what to say to."

"So," Remus said, ignoring that the comment seemed to have come out of nowhere, "you just say everything you think of – or the best insult. I know you, Sirius Black."

There was a faint smile on his lips, but something about the way he’d said those last words made Sirius' breath hitch in his throat. He supposed they were true. Old news.

"Please," Remus said more softly, while they passed the markings on the pathway to the forest to make clear that cars were not allowed to pass. "Don't look like that."

"I'm not looking like that."

Silence. You know you are.

"Pads, can you shut up for a minute?" he asked. Something Sirius had been hearing all his life. "I mean, about other stuff. I want to..."

"Yeah. Anything for you, Moons."

Remus studied his face while worrying his bottom lip – contemplating how honest Sirius' words were? Sirius touched Remus' hand which earned him a little smile. Then he nodded.

“First, what I said last night, about my dad?” He briefly closed his eyes. “I don’t care what they say about you. I mean, I do, I hate it. But I don’t agree or am going to behave accordingly. My parents have this idea of you in their head that’s extremely wrong, it’s almost hilarious.”

Sirius wonders if he’d like to know.

 “Manipulative, egotistical, et cetera.” His voice sounded clipped. He went silent for a moment, took a breath, and when he spoke again, he spoke with less vigour and a faint tint of pink on the high of his cheeks. “They worry about all the wrong things.”

Sirius went a little bit colder inside What are the right things to worry about?

He tucked his hand in his pocket, preventing his right to touch with Sirius' left and Sirius wished he had something to protect him from the punch that would rip open his chest. When Remus kept his eyes trained on the pathway, and Sirius’ chest tightened with the realisation that he was not going to get whatever he wanted – too much way too much – he tucked his own hands in his pockets, too.

“Mum thinks you’re good looking though.” In another context, they could have laughed about it, but now it just sounded wrong, like the tightness in Remus’ voice. “At least she’s right about something.”

“Tell her thanks, I guess.” He looked at Remus sideways. “You’re beautiful, you know?” he said after a few seconds, and then he bit the inside of his cheek, because he had the suspicion that Remus did not agree.

"If you say so, Pads," Remus murmured without meeting his eyes. "Anyway. The thing is... you're the best friend I've ever had. I’ll ever have, maybe even. Around the time I started spending some time with Caradoc, I thought the feelings I had for you were... nothing different from how I felt about James, or Peter or Lily. And you didn’t mind, and I realised I wanted you to mind.”

“That was three years ago,” Sirius said. Remus had just confirmed what he had been thinking about the bigger part of last night and this day.

“Yeah. You're... something else."

"Moony?" he asked alarmed and he hated how vulnerable he sounded. "Why do I have this feeling that you're not saying something good, while I've been wanting to hear this for years? Can you please look at me?"

He did. His voice had sounded calm, he still appeared composed, but somehow, he looked inexplicably sad, his eyes wide, the corners of his mouth turned down. "If it were different –"

"What? Why?"

"I've been thinking all night," he said, his voice finally faltering. He looked like the definition of absolute misery. "There have been infinite signs that you fancied me, that I've been in love with you for a long time as well but still, we never did anything and there must be...”

“A reason?” Sirius asked, while the words echoed in his head. That I've been in love with you for a long time as well, from Remus’ lips, addressing Sirius.

Remus nodded.

“I was afraid to ruin our friendship?” Sirius offered. “I didn’t want things to change.”  I didn’t want you to turn me down. Sometimes maybe was better than no. “I wasn’t sure you felt the same, was I?”

Remus kept silent.

"I swear," Sirius said more forcefully, draining himself, "I just hoped. We’re saying something now, right? Isn’t that enough?”

They had stopped walking and Remus looked right past him, like the elder couple had done only minutes ago.

“I've talked to James, too, about being in love with you. He said something about love and bad ideas. Can you believe how right he is sometimes?"

Sirius felt like he was going to cry. “What we have – I've done so many stupid things, but what we have is still intact. I've been afraid I would lose you so many times and maybe it's too much to ask, but please, not over this."

“Sirius.”

 "Can I kiss you, at least?"

Remus carded his hand through Sirius' hair, brushed tentative fingers over skin. "Oh, Pads. You deserve the world."

"I just want you."

"You make this so hard."

He gripped Remus' wrists. "Really, you're killing me. I'm gonna cry if you –"

Remus pressed his lips to Sirius', too hard and too rough, their teeth clashing, breaking Sirius' heart in a million pieces that would fall apart if he would decide this was all he was going to get.

Then he stared at him and the look in his eyes was sad but heated and determined and wide awake. He brushed Sirius' tears away with trembling fingers and kissed his cheeks, then his eyelids and his mouth again, so reverently that Sirius was afraid his knees would give in and his tears would not stop falling. He pulled Sirius flush against him in a bone crashing hug – a moving mountains, changing timelines one, his fingers clasping the material of his T-shirt.

Sirius touched his bare skin underneath his shirt, soft and hot underneath his fingertips, just right against the palms of his hands. He buried his face in Remus' neck. "Do you wanna..." His voice was barely audible but somehow it was full of fearful hope.

"I'm so selfish for wanting this," Remus whispered.

-

"I hate that you can't see how wonderful you are," Sirius said softly in the small space between them.

They were in Sirius' room at the Potter's – At home, Sirius, they would say. With the three and a half posters on the door, the books of which half of them were stolen from the library at Grimmauld Place during all the years he had known James. His messy desk – he really had assignments to finish. And his jacket was on the floor, next to Remus' coat and they were wearing the same amount of clothes – and it was too many yet just right, because part of him felt that if he got even more of Remus than he had now, he would start crying uncontrollably, combust with happiness, or simply pass out because it was Remus in his arms, in that way and God, how he'd wanted this. It was a dream to come true, a hyper reality.

Remus' eyes were locked on his and he could feel his breath on his heated skin.

Remus smiled a little while leaning in even closer. "That's how I feel about you."

"A right pair we make," Sirius mumbled against his lips.

"Hmm," was all Remus said, before kissing him. He sucked at Sirius' lower lip and then breathed kisses along the column of his neck, setting his pale skin on fire. He pushed Remus' hair from his eyes and kissed his forehead.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted this."

Remus was smiling as giddily as Sirius felt and he pulled Sirius against his chest.

-

Sirius looked until Remus' receding back disappeared from his sight. Then he went back inside to the living room, where he heard James and Evans talking softly.

Both of them looked at him as if a storm was approaching.

"Hey," James said, his hazel eyes painfully expressive with worry and suspicion.

"Did someone die?"

"Did you talk to Remus?" He turned to Evans and asked, surprising both his girlfriend and his best friend, "Can you leave us alone for a while, Lils? I need to have a talk with Sirius."

She glanced at Sirius, her head canted doubtfully, but nodded. "I'll be upstairs." She grabbed her phone from the coffee table, kissed James and left in a whirlwind of a long navy blue cardigan and red hair, while shooting Sirius a strange look that he could not quite place.

"How did it go?" James asked carefully.

He felt on edge, which was strange considering everything that had happened earlier this afternoon, until it ended in him and Remus lying on his bed, just talking and kissing and all things Sirius that had previously only happened in his imagination and that, in reality, left him lightheaded. There was something in James' expression. "What do you expect? What did you say to him?" he asked, recalling Remus' words about love and bad ideas.

"Can you stop acting like I'm the big bad werewolf in this story?" James asked irritated, but mostly tired.

Sirius took a breath and asked his questions again.

"He was going to tell you that it wouldn't work –"

"He did, more or less. James." He hated his broken voice. "How could you try and convince him of that? You know how much I..."

"God, I didn't mean to hurt you, but you're both... Pads, I don't want to sound like some parent or like I don't want you to be happy, because I do. I barely see you happy. You're always acting like you're trying very hard to forget about something –"

"Not always."

"And sure, Moony's got that messy art student's look, attractive and all." James paused and his eyes widened momentarily as though he could not believe he had called one of his male friends attractive and Sirius would have rolled his eyes and made a comment about threatening his heterosexuality, had it been a different conversation, but it wasn't so he said, "That's not the only reason why I like him."

"If it only were," James sighed. "We’re not just talking about liking someone, are we?”

Sirius’ silence confirmed that.

“It's just that I think you can't see him objectively anymore. He says one thing and does the other – but not accidentally. Just because it is easier, or because he's used to doing everything himself. What I'm trying to say –"

"–  is that we're stupid, we'll be each other's downfall, I know. I never acted on my feelings because I've thought about all that. I thought the worst thing could be that we tried and it wouldn't work out anyway and it would kill me if we had to be just friends afterwards, so I thought it was best to always stay just friends, even though it was killing me slowly. But now... I'd rather die in a crash than bit by bit."

James stared at him. After a long silence it took him to contemplate whatever, he said, "The worst thing is that you mean everything you just said."

"Maybe." He sat down next to James, and leaned his head on his shoulder. Something else was bothering him. "I thought you really liked Moony, too."

"I do, I do," he reassured. "But –  please don't hate me –  sometimes you're not... okay. And you deserve someone who'll love you for everything, who won't crawl back because he hates himself too much."

"So this is not a payback for Evans." The comment slipped his mouth.

"No," James groaned.

"I didn't really think that, though. But yeah, I was wondering if you actually liked Moony."

He took of his glasses and leaned his head against Sirius, which didn't really work, considering that Sirius' head was on his shoulder. "I do, but I like you more. You're my brother, Sirius."

They sat in silence for a while.

"You still don't like her?" James asked then.

"A bit, maybe."

"I don't believe you."

"What? I said –"

"She's a good person. And she and Remus get along very well." He fidgeted with his glasses. "She convinced me that you two belong together, that you could be whole together."

"Nice that she thinks we're both broken."

"Pads..."

-

He woke up to something touching his cheek. They had not closed the curtains the night before, he realised when he saw how Remus' eyes glowed golden, how his skin was illuminated by the sun that also caught in his curls. They were damp from the shower he must have taken when Sirius had been asleep still. He was wearing one of Sirius' T-shirts and a soft smile that could make Sirius’ insides melt.

"You're beautiful, Pads," Remus said with so much adoration that he took his breath away. He curled his fingers under his cheekbone.

"You're gorgeous," Sirius said, his voice still hoarse.

Remus let out a laugh. "You're unbelievable."

Sirius kissed him. "I'm so happy."

"Don't..." His breath hitched. "It's not a bad thing to be happy." He wiped away the wetness under Sirius' eyes he had not even realised was there. "You'll never lose me. I'm not going anywhere without you."

Sirius closed his eyes.

"Padfoot..."

"I can feel it here. In my head, everywhere. It's so dark and it aches."

"Padfoot. Sirius."

"Please, Remus. Leave me alone. I can't..."

"No, no, no, no, look at me..." His hands cradled Sirius' face, hurt in his bright eyes. If he kept absorbing Sirius' negative energy, the light would dim and he could not bear to see that. "Listen to me."

"Leave me alone."

Remus kissed him gently and he kissed him back, let Remus' lips roam, and he closed his eyes, the overwhelming feeling, and when Remus' hands caressed his shoulders, his chest, endless naked skin he could barely resist the desire to give himself to the other boy, to let himself drift away. If this wasn't heaven nothing could be.

Soft lips followed careful yet determined hands and Sirius laced their fingers together. He pressed his lips to Remus' hand and felt him smile against his shoulder. Their eyes locked and without breaking contact, Remus got up to straddle Sirius' hips. He started to take his – Sirius' shirt off but stilled when Sirius grabbed both his wrists. There was very little he wanted more than to touch Remus everywhere, and if Remus kept doing what he was doing there was no way he would be able to control himself.

"Don't."

Remus stared at him brokenly, until he realised that no this was not about his scarred chest – Sirius had kissed him reverently three days ago when Remus had voiced his insecurities and assured him that he loved all of him.

"You're gorgeous and I just look like I'm ill all the time –"

"First of all, you don't look like you're ill. Secondly, even if you did and I was gorgeous, which I'm not –" at that, Remus made a disbelieving sound, "– it wouldn't matter to me.”

Remus was beautiful though. Silent, deep and so much more than Sirius' own shallow attractiveness. When he had said that out loud, Remus buried his face in his shoulder.

Now, Remus pulled his wrists free and leaned forward. Sirius stopped him by steadying his hands against his chest, not pushing away but not encouraging either. "Listen, Moony."

"I don't think I want to listen to you right now."

"I... I need to warn you, I'll hurt you. There's this hole filled with darkness, I can feel it and you need to leave and... and..."

"No, no. Sirius?" He rolled aside and curled up against him.

"Please, leave me alone."

"Never," he said so solemnly that Sirius almost believed him.

-

"It's so weird that this is one of the last days of school," James said, while he stretched his long limbs.

"University is school, too," Lily said. She laid her head down on his chest.

"But that's different."

"Yeah." She chuckled.

Remus, who was sitting in between Sirius' legs, leaned back against his boyfriend's shoulder to look him in the eye. "Are we going to remind him that his shirt is white?"

"Nah. He'll see himself."

Remus rolled his eyes. "Okay."

-

"He thinks that we will last forever."

Lily was lying on the couch looking at the line where the olive green painted wall met the white sauced ceiling. She was using one of James' sweaters as a pillow, waiting for James to come back from training.

She had appeared at the front door an hour ago, a strange look on her face, her hair windblown, as though she was on the run for something but would never be fast enough, which reminded Sirius a bit of himself.

"James won't be home until eleven."

"Can I come in though?"

Sirius stepped aside and made an exaggerated gesture. "May I ask to what I owe the pleasure?"

"A row with my sister."

Sirius wondered if James had told her about his own estranged family bond, the thoughts of Regulus that still made his stomach squirm, knowing he was failing everyday he half tried to convince himself that Regulus could leave if he wanted, that half of him knew Regulus would never because he was not selfish. Another good person with rotten luck.

"Did I wake you up?" she asked sheepishly.

"Yes. Charles and Euphemia are still asleep."

"Hm.” She followed him to the kitchen. "Why is it that guys look so much more attractive after they've just rolled out of bed, while girls look like they've been caught in a storm or something?"

Sirius laughed. "I don't know. But I wouldn’t tell Prongs you think I'm attractive."

"He won't mind. He thinks that too. I mean, who doesn't?"

Everyone who's really seen me, looked past the picture of an eighteen year old boy with features he owes to a terrible aristocratic family? Which were only a few people. Maybe not even two.

He thinks we will last forever.

Sirius was sitting in one of the big chairs, his legs thrown over the armrest while leaning with his back against the other. "He has a very optimistic vision," he laughed. "Don't you, Evans?"

She hummed. "Yeah, I mean, I have faith in humanity and all, but this is different. We're only eighteen. Most people who are together at eighteen do not talk to each other anymore when they're eighty, and they don't even mind. That's just facts."

"Are you a fact then?"

"You're name doesn't suit you, seriously."

"That's such an old joke."

"Still funny."

"Maybe a little."

"Do you?" she asked, her laughter gone, an earnest expression in her green eyes.

"Think you will last forever?"

"And you and Remus."

"I hope so." But I don't know. The thought of him and Remus not lasting forever. He would always fight for Remus – but whole empires had lost wars. Mostly, he tried to not think about it. To live in the moment.

"He has this vision, of us, married with children. And you and Remus are those very cool uncles who drop by every now and then to tell crazy stories. We'll be a proper family in which grumpy neighbours and lonely friends are always welcome to join dinner."

She was smiling, brilliantly and radiantly.

He was surprised that despite how mundane that idea sounded, he knew it would make him very happy.

-

 Sirius was lying with his head on Remus’ chest.

"Are you afraid of the future?" Remus asked.

"Terrified." He turned around so that he could face him. "For so many reasons. But can we please not think too much about that?"

"Let's not go too fast," Remus agreed, while tilting up his hand so that he could bury it in Sirius’ hair, massage his skull. "There'll be good days and bad days, but I'll always love you. James is an idiot, but he's also very lucky." He smiled at the thought of James and his endless confidence. "He deserves it though. And you, you deserve the world."

"I just need you," was all he said before kissing him.

-

They were all at the Potters’ house and summer was coming back.

"Don't eat all the chocolate while I'm helping Mrs. Potter," Sirius said.

"Hm. Promise..." Remus kissed him and then stuffed his mouth with the chocolate bar Mrs. Potter had given him for some reason when she had let him in. He grinned in a way that shouldn't have been so attractive, too much teeth and melting chocolate.

"My God, Moons..." He leaned in again, but Remus placed his hands on his chest.

"You can't kiss me when I'm eating!" he laughed and pushed his fingers through Sirius' hair.

"And you can't touch my hair when you're eating chocolate." He attempted exasperated, but sounded all the more like someone who was in love, hopelessly so. Although, not that hopeless anymore. Sometimes, he had to check if this was real, to double check until Remus kissed him back and stilled the erratic beating of his heart. But this was real and it was good and it was good and softer every day.

"So good," Remus murmured.

Sirius frowned a little and touched his warm cheek with gentle fingers.

"I was thinking out loud?" Remus offered a bit sheepishly.

Sirius hummed. He let his fingers ghost over the soft skin on his cheekbone, the soft shadow beneath it that was a result from the evening light through the window. It was six o' clock and the sun was shining still. Summer was coming back. It was an illusion, he knew, rationally, but summer always seemed to make things lighter, more bearable. Less heavy.

"Can you keep your hands of each other for a minute?" James interrupted their endearments. He was stood in the doorway with his arms folded and a wide grin on his face.

"Yeah, 'm coming," Sirius said, before quickly stealing another kiss.

-

Sirius and James assisted Mrs. Potter in the kitchen, more because they wanted to than because she was actually in need of their help. It was familiar and confidential though, listening to Mrs. Potter's sassy comments and James, who defended himself and everything else.

Mrs. Potter shook her head. "Can you believe that he'll be eighteen soon?"

"Eighteen?" Sirius feigned astonishment. "Are you sure?"

"Har har," James said, while mercilessly chopping a particularly stubborn potato.

Mrs. Potter sent him a dead stare and took the knife out of his hand. "That's enough for today." Then she smiled at both of them. "Really, boys, I'll do the rest."

So Sirius and James left the kitchen and entered the living room, where Peter was helping Mr. Potter with something on his phone and Lily and Remus were looking at something on Remus' phone. They were just in time to hear that Lily let out a high pitched sound. Remus grabbed his phone back, his cheeks pink from embarrassment yet a smug smile on his lips. His eyes found Sirius'. He rolled his eyes and turned back to Lily.

"What was that?" James asked.

"Don't look at me, it's his phone," Sirius said.

"Look me in the eye and tell me you have no idea what it is about. Or you know what, I don't even want to know."

"Shame."

When James kept silent, he turned to look at his best friend. There was a thoughtful expression on his face and it was still a little strange, but not misplaced, or fake, or anything like that. His hazel eyes still glowed and he still made inappropriate jokes. He was just growing up, Sirius concluded.

Everything was changing and sometimes it felt as though he was trying to hold onto a river – or onto everything safe that had been thrown in the river and was now drifting towards the open sea. But he could not stop it, and he was learning and growing, too.

"I'm so in love with her," James announced, for the umpteenth time in all those years, but whereas Sirius had always rolled his eyes, more than slightly annoyed, he could understand him now. See what he saw. A girl only trying her best, too. Sirius leaned his head on his shoulder.

"He's so in love with you," James remarked after a while.

He's such an idiot though. His breath caught in his throat. "It's crazy."

"Are you happy then?" James asked, finally averting his eyes from Lily and Remus (mostly Lily, probably – Sirius couldn't blame him, really). "I mean, you, Remus. Together. You have been pining after him since forever. And I think he's been doing the same, but he's just very good at hiding it. Or well, he used to be."

Sirius let out a little laugh.

"I know it's not perfect, I heard you argue yesterday – and you, both of you, have bad days, but... You're doing better, and..." He trailed off.

"Yeah," Sirius said. "Yes. It's good."

Lily got up from where she was sitting on the couch and walked towards them. She threw James' arm over her shoulder and glanced at Sirius. "I'm borrowing your boyfriend for a while."

Sirius laughed his bark like laugh. "You can keep him, Evans."

"Thanks, Black," she smiled, before taking James with her.

Sirius walked over to Remus.

"Hey." He sat down next to him.

"Hey."

"What were you and Prongs talking about?" Remus asked, while gently placing his hand on Sirius’ jaw.

"Stuff. Life, good days, us. You know."

"Yeah, I know," he said softly. He closed his eyes and leaned against Sirius' chest, his warmth, his weight, just the fact that he was there making him feel at ease.