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There used to be a reservation in the way Sirius responded to Kingsley’s compliments. He would duck his head, shuffle his feet, shy away. Kingsley knew why of course. Azkaban had broken the man and he felt it most keenly in the way his hands shook as he drank tea with his Godson, in the way his legs trembled at each flight of stairs.
He did not see himself attractive so no one else should either. Even his previous partner had turned from him. So to find such a man like Kingsley willing and eager to share his bed, his life, his struggle, it wasn’t comprehendible to him. No matter what Kingsley promised, no matter what was said, he was always one step out the door, ready for Kingsley to decide he didn’t want him.
It had strained the relationship they were hiding, at Sirius’ request, to the point of an almost breakup. Sirius had shouted himself hoarse about how unlovable, filthy, disgusting he was and Kingsley had stormed out. Sirius had thought that was it, the relationship over, and had been a mess all that night until he fell asleep red-eyed and with a bruise from where he’d stumbled and fell into the dresser because he’d been crying too hard to see.
He hadn’t expected to be woken by the same man, gentle fingers stroking his arm as he sat staring at Sirius in the dim light of a bedside lamp.
“Kings?”
“You asked me earlier what I saw in you that I stuck around. Well, screamed it at me but it’s all the same.”
“I-“
“Harry’s helped me clear the house. We’re alone right now, would you come with me?” He’d cut Sirius off and Sirius had been hesitant to agree. The reason he wanted their relationship quiet was his godson, after all. He’d been raised by muggles and wouldn’t react favorably to their relationship. Hermione certainly hadn’t when she’d heard that Charlie Weasley was gay and they’d been raised similarly. But he eventually stumbled to his feet and allowed Kingsley to lead him to the gardens.
It was lit with fairy lights, golden, flickering things bobbing in the air. There was a blanket he was lowered to and found the ground layered in cushioning charms. It was chilly but there seemed to be warming charms on the blanket that kept his bare chest from raising in goose flesh.
“Kings…”
“You told me once that you were obsessed with the stars. What do you see when you look at them?” Kingsley asked while he settled behind the older man.
“The universe,” Sirius answered immediately.
“Hmm. I see the same when I look at you.”
Sirius had snorted, half embarrassed, half afraid that Kingsley was making fun of him. But he had lifted Sirius’ hand to his lips and began talking.
“Shush. You don’t believe me? Listen. I see storm clouds in your eyes. I see rivers in your veins. Here,” he paused to kiss Sirius’ shoulder, where a scattering of freckles that he often traced was.
“I see constellations that I can connect with my tongue. I see Nebulas in the love bites I give you, from the blossoming colors against your white skin. I see the night sky in your hair, and water in the way it moves on the pillow sheets.”
His fingers had traced every aspect he was talking about. The veins on the inside of Sirius’ wrist, the freckles, a finger brushing his eyelids.
“I see the sunset when you blush, the bright red flooding your cheeks. I mean it, Sirius. I see the Universe when I look at you. You ARE my universe. I’m going to keep coming back, chasing the sun. Call me Icarus if you want, with the way you keep pushing me away, but until you kill me I’m not leaving you alone.”
He was so soft with his words, but his tone was firm and his face was so serious, so calm and unforgiving… Sirius had believed him. And something inside his chest had eased, and he threw his arms around his lover and babbled apologies. Kingsley had just held him, stroking his bare back and letting him vent himself until he was too exhausted to keep his eyes open.
Three days later he had sat his godson down and explained that he was in a relationship with Kingsley. To Sirius’ shock, he’d shrugged.
“I know.”
“You know?”
“Sirius, he looks at you like you hung the moon and the stars. If you weren’t in a relationship I would have hit him for it, but he seems to take care of you as well as he is able. And you’ve been grinning like a loon for the past few days.” He points out reasonably, making his godfather blush deeply. That in turn made him remember Kingsley’s description of him, something that was a common occurrence after their conversation. His words had sunk deep, deeper than anything else he had said to Sirius.
“He’s good for you. You moped around here for a year, and now that you’ve let him in you’re happier. Calmer. Not saying you don’t blow your top every once in a while, but I can tell he centers you. I’m happy for you Padfoot.”
Harry had dipped as he walked by to kiss his forehead and then disappeared out of the kitchen like they’d just been discussing the weather. Sirius was still bewildered when Kingsley came in to find him. The man got a good laugh at Harry’s reaction, and that had been the end of it.
And from then on, Sirius learned to take a compliment from his lover. Because if he was Kingsley’s universe, then he was Sirius’ sun. He melted away the ice-cold leftover from Azkaban that made his hands shake, crumbled the walls he had up since Remus had left him for his cousin that made his legs buckle with the weight of them. His shining smile, his glinting eyes, broke through anything he threw up as a barrier and he decided that basking in the warmth from his lover was infinitely better than trying to stay a cold, bitter man.