Work Text:
January 1, 1977
We were in the backseat
Drunk on something stronger than the drinks in the bar
"I rent a place on Cornelia Street"
I say casually in the car
Sirius Black knew the situation was fraught. He had dragged Remus out with him to Diagon Alley (because really, who spends New Year’s Eve locked up in the common room?) with every intention of a fun night devoid of any problems or worries. Now, however, Sirius was leaving with the worst problem of all: he was most irrevocably in love with one (1) Remus Lupin.
He should have seen it coming of course, when those deep blue eyes met his at the beginning of the break and told him that he would be staying at Hogwarts with Sirius for the duration of it, no protests accepted. Of course, if Sirius was honest with himself, the first time the words ‘I love you’ entered his mind in relation to Remus was probably two years ago as opposed to two weeks, but he liked to think he had some dignity.
With his drink addled mind, however, he was also finding it increasingly difficult to keep this a secret, with the prospect of climbing to the roof of the knight bus and screaming it to the universe feeling increasingly like the greatest idea he had ever had. He thought of the face Remus might make if he did this, and started giggling uncontrollably.
“You okay Pads?” came Remus’ slightly slurred voice, though his eyes still seemed perfectly clear despite the alcohol. The bastard. Sirius found his brain short circuiting. Why would he answer Remus when he was so very busy comparing Remus’ eyes to the bluest things he could come up with? The ocean and sky didn’t feel like enough. Sapphire stones, Sirius thought happily, delphinium flowers, morpho butterflies-
“Right lads, wanted to let you know that the knight bus is experiencing some delays, so you’ll have to sit tight for a while.” A tall, young man that Sirius recalled vaguely as having sold them their tickets came into view, before he darted off again to the front.
“‘S’a magic bus,” Sirius hears himself saying. “How’s it delayed?” He then proceeds to collapse his head onto Remus’ shoulder, not wanting to waste energy holding it up.
“It-uh-well,” Remus clears his throat, a strange dusting of pink covering his cheeks. “Drivers asleep.”
Sirius strains to get up and look to the front where, sure enough, the driver is snoring soundly. Not looking forward to spending the night in a bus, of all places, Sirius is suddenly struck with an idea.
“We can go to my flat,” he says, proud that he sounded much more casual than he felt.
“Your…huh?”
“My flat. The one I inherited from my Uncle Alph, ‘member? It’s just down the street.”
Remus makes an ‘oh’ with his mouth, and Sirius can practically see the wheels turning. “Listen Moons, there isn’t a single other soul in Gryffindor tower, and I promise we’ll be back bright and early, so no need to worry about being caught, eh?”
Remus closes his eyes. “Well, it would be nice to sleep in an actual bed…”
“You say that as if I’m not making you sleep on the couch,” Sirius replies with a smirk.
“That’s assuming you can make it there first,” Remus responds with his own coy smile, before he’s gone, running to the front of the bus and out.
They both end up on the bed, and though it’s nothing new, something about it feels a little different, now. It’s a little like when you learn to ride a bike with training wheels (such helpful little things) until one day they’re gone, and no one’s told you how to balance but you better figure it out quick because you’ll be falling with nothing to catch you, now.
*
September 24, 1977
We were a fresh page on the desk
Filling in the blanks as we go
As if the street lights pointed in an arrowhead
Leading us home
“Whatcha doin’?” Remus feels Sirius as he wraps his arms around him, soft breath against his neck as he tries to write.
“Well I was journaling about my day, which I’ll remind you is difficult when I can’t move my arms, love.”
“Aw Moons, you don’t need your arms when you have me,” Sirius replies as he slides into the chair next to Remus’.
“That doesn’t even make any se-“ and Remus has every intention of finishing his sentence, really, but Sirius has just pressed a soft kiss to his jaw (the bastard) so it suddenly doesn’t feel that important.
“Yeah Moons?” Sirius says as an easy smirk covers his features.
“Oh bugger off,” Remus mumbles as he goes back to writing. It’s secretly one of his favourite things, and he’s kept a log of almost every day of his time at Hogwarts; his own little way of keeping the memories safely tucked away from the reach of time.
“I bet I’m in that journal quite a lot,” Sirius says, ignoring Remus’ request.
“Considering your life goal is making your presence annoyingly known, it’d be impossible for you not to be.”
“Oh you know what I mean Moony. Do you write poetry about my eyes in there? Sonnets about my hair?”
Remus feels his face flush, because really, Sirius isn’t too far from the truth. “If you’re just here to tease me then I’m going up to bed.”
“Really Re, when’s the last time you used your own bed?”
“Sirius.”
“Remus.”
Remus is surprised, however, when Sirius suddenly drops his gaze, speaking unsurely.
“I, uh, wanted to ask you something actually. It’s- well you can say no, it’s really dumb anyways, I don’t even know why I’m bothering, but I thought it might be nice I guess and-“
Remus cuts him off by leaning in and giving Sirius a gentle kiss. “You can talk to me about anything darling, I promise.”
Sirius nods once, quickly. “Will you, uh, will you move in with me after graduation?”
Remus feels his mouth fall open. Him and Sirius have been dating for less than a year, sure, but they’ve been friends for nearly seven, and really this was always the plan, even if before it included James and Peter. It’s just that Remus can’t quite bring himself to believe that Sirius would want this, would want to be with someone who would never be able to provide stability because of his condition.
“Rem?” And Remus’ heart breaks because oh, Sirius looks so scared.
“I- I wouldn’t be able to help Sirius, I can’t even get a job I can’t-“
“Shh, hey Moony, listen to me.” A hand gently guides Remus’ gaze up. “I don’t care about any of that. I just want to be with you. Wherever and whenever, alright?”
Remus takes a deep breath. He can have this. He doesn’t have to run from it, to push everyone away. “Yeah. I mean, it’ll be nice to have a home. With you. I’d love that Pads. I want that.”
Sirius ducks his gaze, and this time it’s Remus’ turn to guide it up. “Hey, don’t go all shy on me now Padfoot. You did ask.”
“Wasn’t sure what you’d say,” Sirius mumbles as he buries his face into Remus’ chest.
“Oh love, I’d go anywhere with you. Every arrow, every path, they always lead back to you, somehow.” And isn’t that just the truest thing he’s ever said?
“If you get any more soppy on me I’ll have to go and buy out Honeydukes for you,” Sirius says, voice slightly muffled and thick.
Remus laughs as he kisses Sirius’ hair.
“Wouldn’t that just be the worst thing, eh?”
And as Remus holds Sirius close, it’s a little like finding your balance on that bike, now with only two wheels, whooping and cheering as you make it past the little markers you set for yourself (that fire hydrant, the pink tree, your best friends house) without falling over once.
*
July 17, 1978
And I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends
I'd never walk Cornelia Street again
That's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend
I'd never walk Cornelia Street again
As Sirius watches Remus sleep, the rise and fall of his chest, the way his hair slightly flutters with his breath, he can’t help but think how absolutely terrifying it is to be in love. I’d let you destroy me, he thinks. You can rob my ribs, the heart they protect, shatter it like glass, and it still wouldn’t end how I feel. Being with Remus is everything. It fills Sirius up, drowns him in sweet caramel and honey until his brain is mush and his heart is mush and all he can think is I love you I love you I love you and I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours.
He doesn’t even want to think about what might happen if it ended. If he ever lost Remus he knows he’d never recover. He’d never be able to come back here, to Diagon Alley, to this flat, because it’s all Remus’ anyways.
Every time he walks down the street he’s reminded of Remus, of that time he kissed him at Florean’s and suddenly Sirius’ favourite ice cream flavour was mint chocolate chip because that’s all he could taste.
When he walks into the Quidditch store he sees Remus’ bright laugh when a bludger started a mad chase after James because he had knocked the case over, massive tosser that he is.
Remus’ blush fills Flourish and Blotts where Sirius bought him a copy of ‘How to Take Care of Your Wizarding Boyfriend: 50 Tips and Tricks’ as one of his birthday presents.
James, ever wise that he is, always says that time can heal all wounds, but Remus is all consuming. Sirius has given him every part of himself, and without Remus there would be nothing left of Sirius to heal from, of that much he is sure.
For now, however, he traces a scar on Remus’ face (left cheek to right brow) and smiles as Remus leans into the touch, cold face to warm hand. And as Sirius leans in to kiss him on the cheek, it’s a little like the bike flying down a hill, adrenaline pumping through veins as you hope with everything in you that when you meet the bottom it’s on two wheels, as opposed to none.
*
August 8, 1978
And baby, I get mystified by how this city screams your name
And baby, I'm so terrified of if you ever walk away
I'd never walk Cornelia Street again
I'd never walk Cornelia Street again
Remus smiles to himself as he watches Sirius run through London, his leather jacket making Remus feel things he can never quite put voice to. London is Sirius’ city, he thinks, with the way Sirius seems to consume it, drawing every eye in the pubs they visit and the record shops they frequent. Remus doesn’t always understand it, but it terrifies him to think that if Sirius ever walked away (a fear that gnaws at his brain, shredding it bit by bit because really, why would anyone choose him?) he would never be able to walk down a London street again. Forget Diagon Alley, which Sirius has already taken fully, every single London street is Sirius: his scent, his taste, his eyes.
Oh, his eyes. The grey that blankets London matches Sirius’ eyes to a tee, captures every detail: the way they brighten slightly when the sun comes out, how they match the storms that pass over, and the way there are small blue flecks in them, the same way the sky pokes through on a cloudy day. They are everything to Remus, and he has made it his mission to see every shade they can be.
When the fears get too much, however, Remus will feign being asleep, and as Sirius slips into bed and traces his scars, Remus tucks the feeling away as a reminder that he is loved, oh so fully.
It’s a little like the bike has landed, two wheels firm on the ground, and while there will be plenty more hills to come, you know now that you can make them, having cleared this one. (The trees are watching, and they see you do it, even if no one else does.)
*
November 3rd, 1979
Windows swung right open, autumn air
Jacket 'round my shoulders is yours
We bless the rains on Cornelia Street
Memorize the creaks in the floor
“Whys it freezing in here Moons, did you invite a bloody blizzard to dinner?” Sirius yells out as he walks inside their flat (the thought still makes him giddy).
“Just James and Peter, thanks,” Remus replies.
Sirius finds him leaning out the open window, and as he walks up to it he can see why; the cool autumn air feels refreshing against his skin. He presses a cool hand to Remus’ forehead, the burning skin telling him that his fever still hasn’t subsided.
“Your temperature hasn’t gone down Rem, are you sure you’re still up for dinner?”
“Yeah, ‘m fine”, Remus breathes out, and Sirius watches as he grips the window sill just a little tighter.
“Might be easier to cool down if you weren’t wearing the jacket,” Sirius says, as he mentally decides that James and Peter will not be coming over today. He tugs at the worn leather, and Remus sighs.
“It smells like you and, I don’t know, that somehow makes this better,” he whispers, and Sirius now has to pretend like his heart isn’t about to burst.
“Y’know, that’s why I’m wearing yours,” and he smiles as Remus looks up at Sirius, hand gliding over the brown coat he’s worn to pieces. “Also, now that I’m here…” Sirius slowly starts to pull Remus’ jacket off, while simultaneously taking off his own. Wrapping his arms around Remus, he pulls him to the couch (blue, at his insistence) and then flush against his chest, laughing when Remus begrudgingly admits that this is much nicer than the jacket.
“For the record, we’re cancelling on James and Pete. We’re seeing them for the moon tomorrow anyways,” he adds quietly, hoping Remus doesn’t have time to feel (unnecessarily) guilty.
“Can’t miss Marauders night, finally going to beat James at trivia…” Remus’ half-hearted protest rings out, but soon he’s fast asleep, with Sirius following suit, right after sending a quick message to the other Marauders.
When Sirius wakes up an hour later, it’s to the soft patter of rain and the creak of a tile he knows to be in the entryway. As he gets up groggily he sees that the sun has since been stolen away, and that more importantly, Remus is no longer on the couch.
Barely stopping to put on his shoes, he runs out after him, and stops in his tracks as he sees Remus standing in the rain, arms spread out as the droplets cover every inch of him. He looks ethereal. Sirius smiles as Remus starts to laugh, as his own mind wanders to what James will say when he hears about this, his face contorted in the ‘disappointed mother’ look he’s developed over the years. (‘Running around in the rain? Without a coat on? I’d expect this from Padfoot, not you!’)
His breath hitches when Remus looks up to the sky, his gaze pointed at the brightest star there.
“My Sirius is brighter!” He yells, and this Sirius is so very glad that Remus hasn’t noticed him yet, because those words cause the dopiest of smiles to appear on his face.
A slight turn of the head brings Moony’s gaze to the moon; and Sirius wonders what he’s going to do, until suddenly Remus is screaming.
“I HATE YOU! I HOPE YOU KNOW THAT! EVERYONE IS ALWAYS WAXING POETIC ABOUT HOW BLOODY BEAUTIFUL YOU ARE BUT I SEE RIGHT THROUGH IT. I’M GOING TO DESTROY YOU ONE DAY.”
“Remus!” He calls out, wanting so desperately to hold him, to tell him everything will be alright, but having not the faintest clue what to say. “Do you always go yelling at the moon when I’m not around?”
“Was pissing me off,” Remus mumbles in return, and Sirius watches as the anger spools out of him, leaving exhaustion behind, and oh, when the tears start to fall Sirius barely registers himself running into the rain, but he does remember holding Remus close, trying, trying, trying, to make him feel okay.
“Oh Moons. I hate it too, it’s okay. I promise it’s going to be okay.”
Sirius holds his own tears back as Remus’ body shudders, and the other man’s face is buried in his hair and he hears him whisper that he wishes he was someone else and Sirius holds him tighter and tells him No, I want you to be yourself, because that means you’re mine. And that I’m yours.
“Ready to go inside?” He finally asks, and Remus leans in for a kiss before giving a quick nod, so they trudge back up the stairs. Sirius sees him trying to hide his cough and immediately drags him to bed, praying that the rain didn’t do too much damage.
“You’re going to have to take some medicine, love,” He says as he slides under the sheets. “While you were unbelievably attractive standing out there in the storm, you probably caught a cold as well.”
“You think I’m attractive?” Remus asks, eyes drooping shut.
“I’m dating you, aren’t I?” Sirius replies with a smile in his voice.
“Mm. So many scars.”
“Your scars are beautiful Rem. More beautiful than the moon ever will be, you hear me? I love them, and I love you.”
Remus opens his eyes then, and he gives Sirius a smile that makes him swoon like he’s fifteen again.
“I love you too. You’re incredible.”
And it’s a little like the bike is slowing down, and you’re still pedalling with all your might, but no matter what your body can not keep up. Here’s a little secret, though: you can get off the bike, and walk with it for a while. No one has to know. (The trees won’t tell, especially not the pink one).
*
October 31, 1981
Back when we were card sharks, playing games
I thought you were leading me on
I packed my bags, left Cornelia Street
Before you even knew I was gone
But then you called, showed your hand
I turned around before I hit the tunnel
Sat on the roof, you and I
Remus runs through yesterdays argument in his head a million times. I don’t know if I can trust you, Sirius had said. Sirius, who has so obviously been keeping secrets that every time Remus sees him he feels like his soul is being ripped to pieces. Here’s another. And another. You have my soul Sirius, he wants to say, is this what you want to do with it? A part of him wants to collapse right then and there, to feel like a fool for letting Sirius lead him down this path, for letting him believe he could be loved and cherished and be anything other than The Werewolf.
He doesn’t know what to do. Doesn’t know how they let the war come to this, when it ripped them apart. He doesn’t know if he can fix it, doesn’t know if he should bother. Sirius doesn’t seem so inclined. Remus hasn’t seen him since last night, having stormed down and collapsed onto the couch, and he decides at least that he doesn’t want to see him. Or, more correctly, that he can’t. He can’t face Sirius, can’t look the man he loves in the eye and not see the same feeling reflected back.
So he packs a bag. A few clothes, some food, money, all without waking Sirius, and he sets out into the barely risen sun. He doesn’t apparate, doesn’t know where he plans to go, but he eventually raises his wand out at the end of the street, deciding that the knight bus will at least give him a chance to sit down while he figures out what he’s doing. When Remus climbs onto the bus, the irony is not lost on him that this is where his and Sirius’ relationship essentially began. Maybe it’s poetic that it’s also where it’ll end.
Ten minutes into the journey, and that’s if you’re being generous, Remus is startled by a blue, iridescent dog suddenly flying in through the window. The other passengers give him odd looks, and Remus’ brain doesn’t catch up to what’s happening until it starts talking, Sirius’ frantic voice filling the bus.
“Remus, Remus please. Please listen to me. I love you, okay? I love you so fucking much it hurts sometimes, and it scares me, and I’ve been terrified for months but you have to understand that I would never truly distrust you. I- I didn’t know what to think and the war has been so all consuming and confusing but you, you are everything to me. You are the only thing I understand. Please come back. I can’t do this without you.”
And Remus sits there, frozen in space, and in time, because really what else can you do when you realize you’re making the dumbest mistake of your life? He jumps up, grabbing his bag and staggering to the front, pointedly ignoring the looks the other passengers are giving him.
“I need to get off this bus.”
“Listen young fella, we got people on here with places to be, so you’re gonna have to wait until your destination-“
Remus shoves a galleon into the drivers hand.
“I said, I want off this bus.”
He almost goes flying because of the screeching stop, but the minute he’s off he goes running in the other direction, going a mile a minute before he remembers he can apparate. It takes all his focus not to splinch himself, and then he’s running again before his feet hit solid ground, stopping dead in his tracks when the flats door comes into view.
He runs Sirius’ words over and over in his head. He loves me. That has to be enough. Right now that has to be enough. And so he opens the door, and before he can even start to plan out what he’s going to say he runs into one (1) Sirius Black.
He looks awful. There are tears falling down his face, his hair has managed to defy every law of gravity, and when he looks up his eyes are a shade of dark grey that Remus has never seen before. They look so unbelievably sad.
“I- uh- was going to come look for you and- and-“ Sirius stops suddenly as another sob escapes him, and Remus, damn everything, immediately drops his bag to pull him close, shutting the door behind him with his foot.
“I’m so sorry Moons,” Sirius says between breaths, and Remus feels his own tears starting to fall as well. “I meant what I said. I love you and-“
Remus brings up a finger to Sirius’ lips. “Shh. I know. I love you too, my darling. Shall we head up?” Sirius nods, but Remus doesn’t miss the way he still clings to him, never once letting go. They finally collapse onto the couch, sobs slowly quieting. Remus runs over what he wants to say a thousand times before anything comes out.
“We have to work on us, Sirius. We can’t let this happen again. I- we love each other, yeah? That has to be the start. We have to build on that. I don’t want to loose you again.”
“You never lost me, Rem,” Sirius says defiantly, but Remus doesn’t meet his eyes. “I mean it, Moons, and I promise we will work on us. We’re going to get better, okay? I swear. Which means I have to tell you something.”
Remus looks up at that, and sees Sirius fiddling with the frayed edges of a blanket.
“When James went into hiding we, uh, made a last minute switch. Peter is secret keeper, not me.”
Remus feels his mind working a million miles a minute. A meeting with Dumbledore two days ago, Remus telling him that Peter was on the list of Death Eaters that the werewolves had received from Voldemort (keep them in line, it had said), Dumbledore’s solemn nod. Did he know about the switch? Was it only Remus who was out of the loop?
“That feels like something I should’ve known a while ago,” is what Remus starts with, because Merlin this hurts.
He feels Sirius’ hand find his. “I know. I’m sorry. I will be for the rest of my life. But you know now, and I’m going to start telling you everything, just like I should have from the beginning.”
“Werewolves,” Remus suddenly blurts out, feeling like the word is pulled from his throat, rubbing it raw. “The secret missions I’ve been going on, I’ve been spying on the werewolves, and Greyback, and-“ Oh Merlin, the tears start again, and this time Remus doesn’t think they’ll ever stop, but when Sirius wraps his arms around him and pulls him into his chest, Remus thinks that at least he is here, in his home, while he falls apart.
Over the next hour, however, he starts to pick up the pieces again, because Remus can’t shake the feeling that something is so very wrong. They need to get James and Lily out of wherever they are now.
So he tells Sirius, between sobs, he tells him about Peter, and the meeting, and when Sirius jumps up, moving faster than he ever has, Remus thinks he loves him even more somehow. He can’t really bring himself to move, feeling so utterly numb, but then someone is pulling him up by his arm, holding him close, and Remus finally lets himself feel everything that has been sitting just below the surface. A simmering pot left to boil too long.
“Why?” he says because its the only word running loops in his head, and Sirius leans up to kiss his forehead, because really, how do you answer that?
“I’ve been in contact with Dumbledore, and James and Lils. They’re heading here now. We’re meeting them on the roof, since James is going to fly them.”
“Of course he is,” Remus mumbles, and he feels Sirius’ soft laugh.
“Yeah. Let’s head up there, c’mon.”
While they sit on the roof, fingers tangled and breaths in limbo, Remus thinks that maybe they will make it. That maybe even the war won’t be enough to leave a permanent tear. Love can make you believe crazy things, but here, in this moment, it doesn’t feel that crazy at all.
And then, when James and Lily come into view, a baby Harry on the latter’s lap, Remus knows that they will (make it). With each other, they’ll stitch the tears and glue back the pieces, and when he embraces James and Lily and Sirius, holds them close, it all feels like coming home, again.
Really, it’s a little like the bike has crashed, hitting a stray branch or rock, and as you go sprawling, scraped knees and bruised bones, you find yourself appreciating the precise shade of blue that the sky is. Remember, you can take your time getting up, slowly lift the bike, and slowly get back on. Then, you keep going, because you know deep down that you’ll be alright. (The trees will help, they will clear your path, they will see your strength, and that will be enough.)
*
January 1, 1983
You hold my hand on the street
Walk me back to that apartment
Years ago, we were just inside
Barefoot in the kitchen
Sacred new beginnings
That became my religion, listen
‘C’mon Re, I know you can be quicker than that!” Sirius yells as he slips and slides down the road, the soft blanket of snow making Diagon Alley look like a Christmas postcard.
“Wanker! You’re the athlete here, not me!” He hears Remus’ reply, and laughs as a snowball hits his back, cold snow finding its way under his jacket. Sirius whirls around to see Remus gaining speed, and before he can say a word he’s being tackled to the ground, the two of them sprawling into the snow.
“HEY! S’fucking cold Moons! You’re going to ruin my hair!” Sirius protests, but then Remus is rolling over and kissing him, and Sirius decides that all is forgiven, because really, it’s his favourite feeling in the world.
“Make a snow angel with me,” Remus whispers into his ear, sending a shiver unrelated to the cold down Sirius’ spine.
“Mm,” He manages to respond, and there they are, two twenty-somethings making snow angels in January, because what else can you do?
When the cold finally seeps into their bones Sirius hauls himself up, grabbing Remus’ hand and pulling him along, towards their flat.
“Remember the first time we did this?” he asks, finding himself reminiscing.
Remus laughs. “You mean when we were both drunk off our asses and desperately in love, but still pretending like sleeping in the same bed was so very platonic?”
“Exactly! It was the best day of my life.”
“Oh yeah?” Remus asks, a smile playing at his lips.
“Yeah. First time I realized I was in love with you.” Sirius says, swinging their arms between them. When he looks up, Remus’ cheeks are flushed.
“Oh.” He clears his throat. “I think mine was when break started, and I realized I’d rather stay back with you than go home.” Sirius smiles at that.
“God, we’re a bunch of soppy gits, eh?”
“Speak for yourself,” Remus says, but it’s negated by his soft smile.
When they finally make it inside, jackets, socks, and shoes thrown off, Sirius suddenly feels the weight of the box currently nestled in his back pocket.
“It’s brilliant!” James had said when he showed him. The ring was simple, a white gold band with moons and stars engraved around it. The two of them, etched in stone. The war was over, and for the first time, maybe ever, they were safe. Sirius can actually dream of their future, and as he watches Remus put the kettle on, loose green jumper falling off his shoulders, scars softly glowing in the yellow light, he hopes it’s just like this.
Always the romantic, he goes and finds their favourite record (Lover, of course) and puts it on, letting the music glide into the kitchen.
Remus smiles at him, and its four years ago and Sirius is asking him to move in with him, and if it worked out so well then, maybe there’s nothing to be afraid of now.
“Hey Moons?”
“Yeah Pads?”
“Can we- can I, ask you something?” maybe his nerves are obvious, because Remus looks up, a concerned expression on his face.
“Of course. You can talk to me about anything, darling.” And it’s so much like last time that Sirius feels like he is going to explode with feeling, with love, love, love.
“It’s, well,” he clears his throat. He has to get this right. Sirius wills his brain to work. Getting down on one knee would be a good start. So he does.
“Pads what are you-“ Remus stops talking suddenly when Sirius pulls out the box (blue blue blue) and watches wide eyed as it opens to the ring.
“I love you so much Moons. You know that, but I want us to promise this. That it’ll always be us. After everything, I want this to be a new beginning. A chance for us to build a life together, without being afraid that it’ll get ripped away. I’d spend forever with you, Rem, you just have to let me. So, will you marry me?” Sirius ends his speech with the slightest shake of his voice.
“Sirius…” and oh he’s so so afraid he’s misjudged, that Remus will say no, that this is it; but then he’s being yanked upwards, and his lips met Remus’, and between every kiss he’s saying ‘yes yes yes’. Sirius smiles against the kisses, then remembers the ring still clutched in his hand.
“Wait,” he breaths, gently pushing Remus back. “The ring…” and Moony presents his hand as Sirius slips the ring on, kissing it, and Remus laughs so gently that Sirius leans in to kiss that as well, stealing the laugh for himself, sealing the joy in place. He proceeds to kiss every inch of Remus’ face because god he just really wants to, until Remus is guiding him back to his lips.
When Remus’ lips start to move down his neck, Sirius thinks that he finally understands what the muggles mean about religion, because Remus is his. He worships him, and loves every mark he’s leaving, loves being his so much, and the realization that that the other man feels the same makes it all infinitely better.
Later, he’ll trace the carvings on Remus’ ring, as well as his scars, and it’s a little like you’ve outgrown your bike, so you go out and buy a new one, but you still hang your old one up in the garage because you never could get rid of it. Then, you thank it every time you’re near because it taught you balance so well that you didn’t even need training wheels, on this new one. (The old bike is watching, happy that it served its purpose, and grateful that it got to befriend the trees).
*
June 14, 1983
I don't wanna lose you, hope it never ends
I'd never walk Cornelia Street again
I don't wanna lose you, yeah
"I rent a place on Cornelia Street"
I say casually in the car
Remus smiles at the small party that is wandering around Sirius and his’ flat. The gold band on his finger, overtop the white gold one that was already there, feels cool against his skin. The wedding had been a small affair, considering that neither side had much family to invite, and only a few close friends.
Remus has been feeling extra nostalgic today, and his mind drifts back to that cold New Years Eve, when Sirius had said he owned a flat in Diagon Alley, and Remus’ mind had decided I’m yours. He reckons he should find a way to thank Uncle Alph, maybe leave some flowers at his stone, because really, he made this all happen. The thought makes him laugh, and suddenly a warm body is pressed against him on the couch.
“Hey Moons, whatcha laughing at?”
“That’s Lily’s spot,” Remus answers, trying to keep his blush at bay.
“As your husband, I now get to claim every spot in your vicinity. It’s the rules.”
“Oh yeah? Does that mean no one else is ever going to sit next to me again?”
“Not if I can help it,” Sirius responds with a twinkle in his eyes. “Now, I believe you were about to tell me why you were laughing.”
Remus sighs. There’s no getting out of this one. “Just that, if you think about it, we have your Uncle Alfred to thank for bringing us together. It is his flat that started it all.”
Sirius smirks. “I’ll be sure to send him a thank you card. D’you reckon ghosts can read?”
“Oh piss off.”
“Moony!” Sirius gasps. “And on our wedding day?! This is-”
Remus grabs Sirius’ jaw then, turning it towards him for a quick kiss. It’s a little because it shuts him up, and a little because he really wants to kiss him.
Sirius’ mouth is still hanging open when he pulls back, and Remus gets his own turn at a smirk. “Cat got your tongue?”
Sirius pouts. “I want another kiss for that insult.”
“Mm,” Remus responds, leaning in just so. “I’m afraid we have guests to entertain.” And with that he gets up, sliding into a conversation with James and Mary a few feet away. He can feel Sirius’ gaze on his every move.
Hours later, when he’s pressed against a wall, Sirius’ tongue running down his neck, he can’t find it in himself to feel bad. He knew what he was doing, and every kiss right now feels like a promise renewed, every bite like an ‘I love you’.
Remus finds that he's no longer afraid of loosing Sirius, of it ending, because they’ve proven to each other time and again that this, right here, is what they want forever. No matter how close to collapse they are, they always crawl back up, ready to crash together and come back together, too.
“I love you,” Remus breaths, his lips finding the hinge of Sirius’ jaw, a smile at the shudder it sends through his husband.
“I love you too,” Sirius says, kissing the hollow of his throat, and as he makes his way down, Remus runs his hands through Sirius’ hair, thinking beautiful and perfect and everything I’ve ever wanted.
It’s a little like you haven’t been able to ride your bike in months because of the cold and bitter winter, so everyday you walk by, sparing it a quick glance. However, when the winter thaws and the summer sun shines through, you find your muscle memory intact because, you see, once you learn how to ride a bike, you never really forget. (The pink tree and your old bike laugh, because they knew this, and they’re glad that you’ve learned it as well).
That’s all.