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Remus couldn’t have dreamed he’d be miserable going to Hogwarts, but he is: his shoulders ache as he carries a bulky suitcase in each hand (why did he take this many books?), his robes stick to his skin from the last of summer heat, and he’s halfway through the train with no luck finding an empty cabin. James had waved at him amidst the rest of the prefects, before returning to dazedly stare at Lily, and Peter had been too occupied with his current girlfriend to even muster a greeting, so Remus had decided to find somewhere quiet and with less PDA to read a book for the ride.
“Oi, Moony!” A voice calls to his left, and Remus turns, looking in through the open door a carriage. Sirius sits with his legs propped up on the other bench, surrounded by a group of girls, who twirl their hair and giggle at their friends. Remus feels immediately exposed as they turn to look up at the intrusion, but their gazes fade away when Sirius bounces up with a grin, bounding over and crushing Remus into a hug. “Long time no see, mate.”
“Yeah,” Remus mumbles into Sirius shirt, nostrils filled with the smell of cedar and smoke, heart tumbling in his chest pressed this close. He takes a step back and sets down his suitcases, smiling at his friend. “Good to see you too, Black.”
Sirius peers at him, and Remus’ cheeks burn as Sirius’ gaze roves over him. “You’ve grown a few inches, haven’t you? Weather’s not too bad up there, I hope.”
“Ha ha,” Remus deadpans, pushing at Sirius’ shoulder in what he hopes is a teasing manner and less in an attempt to regain some of his senses with personal space. Remus’ eyes are tentative as they flick over Sirius’, careful not to look too long at his exposed forearms, tanned a warm bronze, or the sharp jut of his jaw, or the broadness of shoulders that had only moments ago held him. Remus gestures to Sirius’ ears that are flecked with silver. “Got a few piercings?”
Sirius grins. “Pretty cool, right? I wanted to get my tongue too, but Andy said they’d just spell it away. You wanna sit with us? We’ll make room, won’t we ladies?”
The girls mutter a few words of assent, and Remus catches their faces falling in disappointment. He picks up his suitcases, wincing as his shoulders twinge in pain. “It’s okay. I’m trying to find an empty carriage anyways.”
“Oh. All right, then,” Sirius shrugs nonchalantly, but his eyes flicker with hurt, and Remus feels a twinge of guilt. “I’ll help you with your suitcases, though.”
“That’s okay, I—” Remus begins, but Sirius is already easing the bags out of Remus’ hands. His fingers brush over Remus’ knuckles, and Remus tries not to flinch at the warmth spreading across his skin, shoving his hands into his pockets and following Sirius down the corridor. Sirius continues to talk about his summer with his Aunt Andy, or Andromeda Black to the rest of the world. Remus listens to less of what he’s saying and more of the unburdened happiness in his voice. He’s glad Sirius could stay up at night listening to a record player on his aunt’s balcony, that he could watch buskers in Trafalgar Square and sit for plays in the Union Theatre. That he had a summer away from his parents and could have fun like a normal teenager. Remus is so glad that he has a sudden urge to hug Sirius from behind, which of course, he doesn’t do. Instead he resorts to smiling at the back of Sirius’ head, watching black curls brush against his unruly collar.
“Here,” Sirius brandishes the door open and waddles inside, hefting the suitcases up on the rack above the seats. Remus offers to help, but Sirius dismisses it, and Remus gratefully sinks into the bench, rolling his shoulders out. Sirius glances down at him, and Remus sits straight, mustering a smile. Sirius scoffs. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Moons. I know it was the full moon last week.”
Remus gives him a sheepish grin, stretching out his legs. “I’m fine, honestly. It wasn’t that bad.”
“Liar,” Sirius grumbles, but he doesn’t take it further. Plopping into the seat opposite Remus, he runs a hand through his hair, prodding Remus’ ankle with his toe. “How’d the rest of your summer go?”
“You know, same old room, same old Matron,” Remus says vaguely, not wanting to go any further. Unlike Sirius, Remus doesn’t have any richly detailed exploits to share. He barely left his room. “I finished that Tolstoy book.”
Remus expects a retort about Muggle books, but instead Sirius says, “Oh yeah? Andy took me to a bookshop and I saw it there. Bought a few books of my own, actually.”
“Really? The Sirius Black, deigning to read Muggle literature?”
“Sod off,” Sirius snorts, poking Remus’ ankle again. “Hey, how come’s Beowulf isn’t about an actual wolf? I read the whole thing waiting for one.”
Remus laughs, leaning back and closing his eyes. “Do not grieve, wise warrior. It is better for each man that he avenge his friend than to mourn him much.”
“Merlin, you really are such a swot,” Sirius sighs. Remus opens his eyes, and Sirius is looking at him not in amusement, but with fondness, a warm smile that makes Remus’ skin burn and his eyes dart away. Sirius leans against the window, a smile playing on his lips. “You got my letter all right?”
“Yeah,” Remus replies, and the postcards in his coat pocket burn a hole over his ribs. “Sorry for not replying. Matron was getting antsy with the owl poop on her windowsill.” Remus doesn’t mention the letters he wrote to Sirius anyways, ink smudged secrets stuffed at the bottom of his suitcase. He doesn’t even know why he brought them, why he didn’t burn them. Remus thought that a physical manifestation of his feelings would make things easier, would chip at the Sirius shaped hole carved in his heart. Looking at Sirius now, dark eyes skimming over British countryside, flashes of sun casting quick, gold streaks down his skin and illuminating his lips, Remus wonders when he ever thought that could be possible.
“That’s alright. Teach me how to use Muggle mail next time. Or maybe you could…join us at the Potters’ for next summer.” Sirius’ gaze flicks to Remus, hope mingling with tentativeness in his eyes.
“Maybe,” Remus mumbles. He’s not sure Matron will even allow it, but Sirius makes him hope of summer in a sun drenched garden, broomsticks casting lazy shadows in the sky, strawberry stained fingers, climbing trees and riding bikes with the three people he loves most in the world. Sirius makes him hope for a lot of things, and Remus, a hard driven pessimist, finds his heart falling for it over and over. “That’d be…nice.”
Sirius gives him a small smile, then clears his throat, rubbing his knees as he stands up. “I should um, get back. The girls will be wondering where I’ve been and I don’t want them to disturb you.” He leans forward to squeeze Remus’ shoulder, sparks seeping through Remus’ robes. “Catch you later, Moony.”
Remus nods in reply, throat dry as Sirius drops his hand, and is rummaging through his coat for his book when he notices Sirius hesitating at the door, hands picking at a loose thread on the hem of his jumper. “Sirius?”
“I um,” Sirius starts, and Remus blinks twice as Sirius chews his bottom lip, running a hand through his hair, because is Sirius Black nervous? “I wanted to say that…I-I didn’t forget what…what you said before we left for the holidays. I mean I…I couldn’t forget.”
“Oh.” Realisation dawns on Remus, and his body floods with prickling heat. “Oh. R-Right.”
The week before they took the train back from Hogwarts, Remus and Sirius had been lying near the lake, waiting for the other two to finish their detention. Remus had been reading, but it was incredibly hot, and he was incredibly tired from the full moon a few days ago, so he had resorted to dozing with the book over his face to protect himself from sunburn. Sirius had been lying on the grass next to him, and his soft cadence of his voice buzzed in and out Remus’ ears, his close presence and smell making Remus drowsy.
Sirius had been talking about how he couldn't wait for summer, and Remus had been making incoherent murmurs of assent as Sirius rambled on. He only focused properly when Sirius’ voice hushed to a small whisper, worry laced in his voice. “Do you think my parents will find me and take me away?”
“Not a chance,” Remus yawned into the pages of his book.
“You don’t know them. They could say they changed their mind, and take me back home. Whenever, really. Even when…even when I think I’m safe—”
Remus isn’t sure why he did it, why he phrased his words like that. Maybe the sun’s heat had bolstered, maybe hiding his face made it easier. He had grabbed Sirius’ hand and squeezed firmly, before saying, “I won’t let them take you away from me. I promise.”
There was a gaping silence, save for the rush of grass against their clothes, the muted sounds of students far off, and the discordant staccato of Remus’ heart. He was about to pull away when Sirius interlaced their fingers, releasing a shaky breath. “Okay.”
They didn’t say anything else, didn’t move, and after Remus’ heartbeat had resumed its normal pace, he had dozed off again. When he woke up again he could hear James and Sirius laughing by the lake, Peter’s crashing footsteps. His hand was empty, and if it wasn’t for the fading warmth of his palm, the flattened grass in the shape of a body next to his, he would’ve believed he imagined the whole thing. Sirius had never brought it up, which furthered his belief.
Except he was bringing it up now, looking at Remus with eyes trembling with emotion. They darken when Remus looks at him, hiding whatever Remus was trying to find in them. Sirius takes a step back, sniffing loudly and shoving his hands in his pockets. “I wanted to tell you because….because I—”
“Sirius!” A girlish squeal makes them both flinch, and Sirius spins on his heel as a girl bumps into his shoulder, her braids swishing as she smiles. Remus recognises her as a Ravenclaw in their year. “You said you wanted to look over the summer homework together. What’s taking you so long?”
“Yeah, in a minute, Janet—” Sirius’ eyes still bore through Remus, who feels his cheeks burn as he stares back, mouth slightly open with words he wants to say, words suppressed in the corner of his heart, underneath all those books in his suitcase.
“Come on, Black, the train isn’t going to run forever,” Janet says, and she tugs Sirius into the corridor. He gives one last glance to Remus, who holds his hand up in a limp wave, before disappearing from view.
Remus slumps in his seat, covering his face with his hands. Why, why, why did Sirius Black have to be so…difficult? Of course he couldn't leave Remus with his unrealistic hopes and secret pining. Even with his eyes closed Remus can still see Sirius staring at him, burning with hope that sears a hole on Remus’ heart. His book lies on the seat next to him, as Remus tries to untangle the words Sirius left him with. When Remus thinks of Sirius not forgetting what he said to him, Remus imagines Sirius on a balcony at sunset, in bed with records strewn across pillows, whispering the words to himself. I won’t let them take you away from me , the words threading through each stroke of letter Sirius penned to him over the summer.
Remus pulls the postcards out of his pocket, fingers tracing Sirius’ cursive handwriting. He had spent days rereading them, blankets thrown over his head at night. We went to watch a Muggle play last week , Sirius writes. Not as good as your impression of McGonagall. Now that’s theatre . There’s another, mentioning the bookstore Sirius had visited. You would’ve loved it, Moony. I’ll take you next time . And another: Andy has the new Bowie, can you believe it? I wish you were here to listen to it .
Throughout summer, Remus’ heart had soared over each word, then was tugged down with a scolding from his brain. Sirius had sent letters to the rest of the group, how was he to know he wasn’t saying the same things to them? So Remus had tucked his hope into the furthest corner of his heart, and sewn the door shut. Now, as he sits with the postcards in his trembling hands, he feels the seams unravel, that tentative wishful thinking slipping down his veins.
There’s a jolt that shakes the whole carriage, and Remus grips the seat in alarm, almost flying into the air. A huge groaning is felt under his feet as the train stutters into a tunnel, swallowing the world in darkness before it comes to a halted stop. Fortunately, Remus can see in the dark, but he can hear cries of fright and shouts of distress further down the train. Before he can stand up to investigate, a voice booms down the corridor.
“No need to be alarmed, students! It appears the engine is experiencing some difficulties, and isn’t reacting too well to its repair. Please remain in your carriages, hopefully this will be over soon.”
There’s heightened chatter as the voice disappears, and Remus can spot students scurrying through the corridors, wands blooming with light as they grab their friends. Remus hopes none will enter his carriage, slipping the postcards back in his pocket and opening his book. He’s about to turn the page when the door slides open. Remus looks up irritably, eyes softening as he spots Sirius standing in the doorway, face lit up by his hand. He frowns at Remus. “Are you reading in the dark?”
Remus shrugs, then taps his temple. “Were-eyes, remember?”
“Cool,” Sirius grins, and closes the door behind him, leaning against it. “You don’t mind if I sit with you, right? Those girls are giving me a headache with all their fretting.” Sirius rolls his eyes, but they’re flickering with nerves. He doesn’t mention his fear of the dark, brought on from years spent shoved in his mother’s armoire for the slightest inconvenience.
“Sure. Just get that out of my face,” Remus tuts, wincing at the brightness of Sirius’ wand. Sirius grins, and whispers, “Nox.”
The train car returns to darkness, and Remus sighs as Sirius stumbles towards him, grasping in the air. “Why do you make things so difficult for yourself?” Remus grumbles, and grabs at Sirius’ hand, pulling him into the seat next to him. He leans forward suddenly, and clutches the sides of Remus’ face, who lets out a strangled yelp. “What are you doing?”
“Just checking if it’s the right Moony,” Sirius laughs, fingers pinching at cheeks. Remus swats at his hands, but doesn’t make any more effort to remove them, not when Sirius is so close he can feel his breath against his nose, a feathery warmth that sends shivers down Remus’ spine. Sirius’ finger runs down Remus’ nose, rubbing at the bump made from when they had fought in second year, and Sirius had cried after he heard the crack. “Sorry about this.”
Remus shrugs. “It was years ago. This, however,” Remus starts, and lifts his own hand and brushes strands from Sirius’ forehead, thumb finding the scar near his hairline. Remus had thrown a book at Sirius when he was bothering him the night before an exam. “Was only last year. Guess I should apologise for that.”
Sirius chuckles, cutting short when Remus runs a hand through Sirius’ hair. It’s not like Remus hasn’t done it before: they’ve shared beds, and most nights end with Sirius’ head in his lap on the sofa in the common room, one hand holding his book the other tangled in black curls. It’s the words left in the air, squeezed in the inches between their noses, that makes Remus’ heart beat faster, stomach fluttering as Sirius’ hand cups his jaw, following a scar down to Remus’ throat. “This one’s new.”
“It’s from last week,” Remus makes out, a hoarse whisper. He doesn’t think of how when he swallows he feels Sirius’ finger move against his skin. He doesn’t think of how familiar Sirius is with his face so that he can map it out in the dark. He doesn’t think of how Sirius’ shoulders slump as Remus combs through his hair, tension bleeding from his body. He doesn’t think of any of it, except he does, and he’s blurting, “I couldn’t forget what I said, either.”
Sirius looks down at the space between them, nail scraping softly at Remus’ scar. “In…in what way?”
Remus swallows again, and this time Sirius thumb presses over his Adam’s apple. “In a way that your letters were all I could think about over summer. You...are all I think about, all the time. And I—”
The train jolts again, and Remus grabs at Sirius’ waist to stop him from falling off the bench, pulling him towards him. They fall backwards, Sirius splayed across his chest, clutching tight at Remus’ shoulders, eyes wide with fright. Remus squeezes him hard, tipping his chin so their eyes meet. “Are you okay?”
Sirius glares at him, blinking hard. “What do you think?” He retorts, and he’s pushing Remus down against the plush of the seats, and pressing into the plush of Remus’ mouth. Remus makes a noise of surprise against Sirius’ lips, trailing into a soft sigh as Sirius’ mouth opens for him, hungry and hot with a taste like malt syrup burning his throat. Sirius kisses like he does everything, fervently, passionately, and like everything Sirius does it makes Remus’ flare up all over, muscles twitching under his robes.
They break for air, both gasping to steal the air between them, foreheads pressed together. Sirius noses at Remus’ neck, who shivers under him, feeling Sirius’ hips bracketing his sides. Sirius on his skin, Sirius on his mouth, Sirius, Sirius, Sirius, and he doesn’t realise he’s mumbling the name out loud until the boy looks up at him with a grin, breathing hard through his nose. “Don’t wear it out, Lupin.”
Remus kisses that stupid grin off his face, and Sirius laughs in his mouth, softer this time, hands planted over Remus’ ribs, sucking gently at Remus’ bottom lip. “It’s that bad, huh?” Sirius mumbles, and he looks at Remus with eyes glazed with elation. Remus is sure Sirius can hear his heart swooping to his stomach, and untangles his hand from Sirius’ hair to cradle his face.
“It’s hopelessly, helplessly horrible,” Remus answers, and his heart squeezes when Sirius beams.
“Ditto,” He says, wrapping his arms around Remus’ waist and pressing his cheek against his chest.
Remus frowns. “So what, you get a confession and I get a ‘ditto’?”
“You’re the swot, not me,” Sirius retorts but he lifts his head up to meet Remus’ eyes, hand reaching to smooth the frown between his eyebrows. “If I told you that those words you said to me before summer made me realise that I want you more than a friend, then what? If I told you I spent hours rewriting every postcard because I didn’t want to sound like a lovesick puppy but I also wanted you to know I’d been thinking of you every day and night, then what?” Sirius shifts against him, hand trailing down Remus’ chest and resting in his abdomen. “If I told you I want to kiss you so hard to make you stupid enough to take off your robes so I can taste you more, then what?”
Remus inhales sharply as Sirius’ hand dances near his belt buckle, cheeks flooding with heat. “W-Well—”
There’s another jolt, and the train starts moving slowly, pulling out of the tunnel and bathing the car with sunlight, the countryside spilling out through the window. Sirius leaves a kiss on his nose as Remus sits up, looking on fondly as Remus straightens his clothes. “Later, then.”
Remus groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “Padfoot-”
“Yes, darling capturer of my heart?” Sirius clasps Remus’ hand, pressing another kiss on his knuckles.
“God, I’m seriously going to regret this,” Remus mutters, but he still smiles when Sirius’ lips find his again, still squeezes their interlaced hands in his lap, still lets hope and wishful thinking and Sirius in.