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11 October, 11:38PM
The fire crackled as thin logs were haphazardly shoved into the otherwise meticulously laid out tepee-shaped stack that James spent an hour on — trying to get the initial flame to catch — and the dying fire roared to a new life. The licks of flame danced in the fireplace, behind the iron-rod fence, casting flickering shadows against the four men that sat huddled in a row across the plush couch. In the dim cabin room only lit by a single lightbulb that hung over them, shadows danced across their faces, against the walls, drenching the room further into darkness.
Tomorrow, Remus would be stood by the base of the podium, with his mates by his side. Tomorrow, Remus would receive her hand from her father, promising him that she would forever and always be in good hands. Tomorrow, Remus would utter the words “I do,” and lift her veil, kissing her into his next phase of life — marriage.
His hands shook in his lap, a slight tremor barely visible to anyone who wasn’t inherently staring at them, perspiration beading against the lines of his palm. It was almost a year ago since he proposed — the day he bit the bullet and decided that she was going to be the one he married. It was in such a spur of a moment that he could barely remember it anymore, though he recalled getting down on one knee without a ring between his fingers. He promised her then that the ring would come, that the moment felt right for him to propose, and he was right; she was beyond ecstatic and he hadn’t seen her that happy, ever.
Remus stared into the fire, his mates by his sides, and he took a long shaky breath of air. Burnt wood and ash, the scents filled his chest and Remus reveled in the heavy burn of smoke against his throat; it was dreadfully comforting. He remembered that the first ever time he took a drag, it was from a cigarette that Sirius had nicked from one of the older students. They had been in third year, and as soon as his eyes caught Sirius’, he remembered being dragged to the greenhouse by the very back of the main castle to try the stick.
Remus and Sirius had choked, coughed half their lungs out of their young bodies, then continued to inhale the cigarette till it crumbled into ashes into the grass. The following days, they walked around campus with hoarse throats that hurt to breathe with, more so to do with how much they coughed rather than the cigarette itself, but with an attitude held so high that it could rival God himself.
Familiar cold fingers found its way against the back of his hand, calloused pads rubbing soothing circles over his skin, and Remus let the breath that he had been holding out. The hold over his hands tightened into a firm grip, and Remus’ shaking hands stilled under the pressure. Warmth washed over him at the unexpected gesture of comfort, and he let his eyes drift down towards their overlapping hands in his lap.
As cold as it ever was when autumn rolled around, as textured as it were from all the sports equipment his hands handled, as much comfort as it always brought him; he let himself indulge in the solace that he had always provided Remus, subconsciously or not. It was their thing — a support for each other that they had with no one else; not with James, certainly not Peter, and even not with any of their partners. Remus stopped questioning it years ago, it didn’t do him any good to linger on it.
The rare subdued moment between the quartet dragged on, and Remus chanced a glance at the man to his right — the man whose hands were still on his own. Sirius’ eyes, from what Remus could make out behind the curtain of wavy black hair that framed his face, were pointedly fixed on their touching hands, unblinking. Touches like that between them, were few and far between now that they were both with their respective partners; it remained effective anyhow.
Seemingly aware that there were eyes on him, Sirius turned to look at Remus, uncharacteristically dark grey eyes boring into his own. They were grey like Remus had never seen them before, like the ashes that laid in the metal bucket by the fireplace, like the soot against the walls. It stilled his breath in his chest, it made him itch in the gut, knowing that after all these years of friendships, there was still a part of Sirius that he hadn’t seen or known.
Sirius smiled at him — so tender, so soft, so warm, and Remus forgot all about the nervousness that plagued him just a few short minutes ago. It was going to be okay; marriage wouldn’t change anything in his life. His mates would remain as his mates, he’d see them just as often as he did now. He’d be the same, he’d still be Remus Lupin even in marriage. The only difference was, his girlfriend would now be his wife. That, that was fine. That wasn’t scary. It was all going to be okay.
Remus smiled back at him, his lips conveying the silent gratitude and appreciation that he didn’t quite feel like voicing out, not while in the presence of his other friends. It was their thing — an intimate exchange of friendship that was purely platonic — Sirius would get it, he always did.
Expectedly, Sirius nodded, ever so slightly, his gaze never breaking from Remus’. His hand tightened into a firmer hold, and Remus let out a silent breath of laugh just between the two of them. Sirius did get it, he always did. If Remus could only count on one thing in the world, it would be Sirius Black, his best mate, his best man.
“Lads,” James interrupted the silence of the night from where he sat on the far left end of the couch, “shall we make it a night? We have an early start tomorrow.”
James stood from where he sat, the couch shifting under the release of weight, and Remus tore his eyes away from Sirius to look at him. James was grinning down at him, excitement and love almost visibly pouring through the dark brown orbs, and Remus returned a weak smile. “Yeah?” He asked, turning his attention onto Peter who was seated to his immediate left.
Peter nodded, raising his arms high above his head into a full body stretch, before slumping back down onto the couch. “Yeah,” he agreed, hands making its way to his sides as he pushed himself to his feet with a drawn out groan.
Remus laughed, shaking his head in bemusement; it’d been a lazy day of settling in after all, he didn’t know what had Peter so tuckered out. With a soft pat against his bottom, finally pulling his hand away from Sirius’ in his lap, Remus waved them off towards the bedrooms. “All right, go on, i’ll be there in a minute.”
“Sirius?” James asked, and Remus looked over to him, hands on his lap and head leaning back against the wall.
Without shifting from his position, Sirius turned his head over to regard James, and nodded tersely with a tired smile on his face. “Headed to the bath first,” he replied, before directing his attention back to Remus.
Their gazes held, before the flickering flames and the crackling of the fire, and Remus felt his breath catch in his throat. The second held, and Remus only saw grey. The second dragged into two, and his stomach clenched. Remus swallowed, and took a breath. On the third second, just as Remus’ mind began to wander, Sirius finally broke the silence with a firm slap against his thigh. It felt like a finality, somehow, and Remus nodded back at him wordlessly.
They left, with a chorus of ‘Goodnight’s and ‘Congrats again, Moony,’ and Remus was left alone in the sitting room, in the final minutes of his bachelorhood. The daunting shadows that decorated the walls were now sparse, and though the room grew brighter in the absence of it, his mind dimmed in his solitude. His nervousness was back, and there was no one to stop the shake of his hands.
12 October, 01:48AM
For the past hour and a half since he made it back into his bedroom, having been generously offered the master bedroom since it was his wedding after all, Remus had been alternating between laying down on the mattress, stiff as a board, and sitting upright against the wooden bed frame like a possessed doll.
At the moment in time, Remus laid stiff on his bed, his back uncomfortably straight and his arms crossed over his chest like a morbid display of a mannequin in a coffin. The worn bedspreads were scratchy against his skin, the humming radiator was thrumming against his head in the otherwise silent room, and the space was sparsely decorated with nothing but a king sized bed; it was utterly disconcerting, and it made his brain itch.
Remus sat back up, inching backwards until his back touched the wooden frame, and he let his head fall against the stiff headboard. He was going through the wedding night jitters, something that both Lily and James had told him about on separate occasions. According to Lily, she had been kept awake not so much by the wedding, but by the social implications and expectations of being a wife. That wasn’t much too relevant to Remus, though he did appreciate her sharing.
From James, he was told that the wedding night jitters were much more akin to the excitement of being married to the love of his life. It was the anticipation of spending the rest of his life with Lily, the contentment of being legally named ‘Husband and Wife’, and the slight nervousness that he would fuck the wedding up by being too James. Unfortunately for Remus, he couldn’t much relate to that either, though the sentiments were equally appreciated.
It wasn’t that he wasn’t excited to be married; nor was it that he didn’t look forward to spending the rest of his life with her. He did want all of those things, he did propose to her after all, didn’t he?
It was much more than that, much more than the both of them. It was him, and how he grew up. It was all Remus, and how he foresaw his future. It was how everything he thought would never happened, had in actuality, happened, and he didn’t know how to proceed, what to feel.
Remus never once saw himself proposing to anyone, not while he grew up, not while he was a part of James’ proposal plans. When he did finally propose, Remus hadn’t expected the wedding talk to come so soon, nor had he planned for one to begin with. His plan, ever since proposing, had always been to elope, just the two of them. Then, the wedding plans began to fall into place, and now, Remus was expected to stand before a hundred friends and acquaintances, and proclaim his love to his wife.
It was stressful, having to face his social anxiety by getting married in front of a ton of others that he could hardly name. It scared him, how his life had played out quite unlike anything he had ever expected or predicted. Most of all, it frightened him, that he didn’t know what to expect from his future. Were they going to be a package deal after the wedding, having to attend each and every one of each other’s plans? Was he allowed to attend short trips and holidays with the blokes without his wife? Was he expected to sire some offsprings?
The questions bombarded him in the early hours of twilight, and because the race of his mind could rival the pounding of his anxious heart, Remus did the one thing he always did when he craved support - he looked for Sirius.
12 October, 02:13AM
He gave the wooden door between the hallways and Sirius’ designated room a terse knock, hopefully just loud enough to hear, and silent enough to keep his other groomsmen asleep. From where he stood, he could hear the familiar drone of Peter and James’ snores, their breaths alternating to the point where there wasn’t a moment of silence in the hallways. Though rarely, Remus appreciated the noise pollution just then.
Faint shuffling of feet could be heard from inside the room, and it wasn’t much of a wait before the door handle turned in his hand, and the door was pulled ajar slightly. Sirius’ head peeked out from behind the door, and if Remus had been previously worried that Sirius would have already been asleep, he was relieved to see the other still wide awake with a towel draped over his hair. Remus subconsciously smiled at the sight, a nostalgic reminder of the days when they shared a dorm and Sirius was oftentimes wondering around the room in such a manner.
“Hi,” he whispered, and without any further questions, Sirius stood aside, allowing for Remus to enter.
The room was dark, Sirius had similarly opted against the use of the light, though there were the faint streaks of light from the overhead moon that shone low and bright through the undrawn curtains. Habitually, Remus followed Sirius to the bed, settling himself down on the left side of the bed, Sirius to his right. He didn’t know when it started, or how for that matter, but Remus had always found himself to the left of Sirius, and it didn’t feel right otherwise. It was just another of their thing, he supposed.
“Wedding jitters?” Sirius asked, settling in under the covers as he rubbed the draped towel against his hair.
Remus hummed in acknowledgement, tucking himself in under the covers beside Sirius, displeased with the discovery that Sirius’ sheets weren’t as scratchy as his. In fact, it wasn’t just the sheets; the radiator was a lot quieter than the one in his room; the room was a lot less soundproof, allowing for the natural sounds of life to seep through the walls; and where his room stood uncomfortably bare, Sirius’ was remarkably homier and much more cosy than his jail cell.
Sighing in comfort, Remus sunk his head further into the pillow, and all apparent jitters seemed to seep away now that his body was snug. “Actually no,” Remus said, turning to face Sirius who was already looking at him, “I think my room was just unbearably uncomfortable.”
A soft smile tugged at the corner of Sirius’ lips, and Remus found himself smiling back at him. It was just the two of them, like it always had been in the early hours of midnight, and Remus felt like he was eleven again; the weightlessness of living life as he expected, as he planned. He closed his eyes, hoping that just for that little while, time could do him a favour and pause for a moment.
“I can’t believe you’re getting married tomorrow.” Sirius’ quiet voice broke their silence, and Remus let his gaze flit back to his friend who hadn’t looked away.
The words hung in the air between them, and because it felt so overwhelmingly important to be honest, Remus let out a soft breath of laughter before he spoke. “Me too, actually,” he admitted, because it was Sirius he was talking to after all, and there was never a need to hide anything from him.
Sirius smiled, shaking his head with closed eyes, and because it was Sirius, Remus knew that it could have been nothing but endearment. Sirius never judged him, for better or for worse; all he ever did, was accept Remus for what and who he was. It was his favourite thing about Sirius, and just because of that, Remus did the same for Sirius. Never any judgement, just unconditional love between them — maybe that was their special thing
“You wanna know a funny story?” Sirius asked, after a moment of silence, and though the question in itself sounded rhetorical, Remus nodded his head anyhow.
Sirius caught his eyes then, index finger tapping against his clasped hand on his chest, as he licked his lips. He was nervous, Remus could tell by the way he fidgeted, and he mirrored the way Sirius turned fully onto his side such that they were fully facing each other. “Um,” Sirius started, his voice laced with hesitation that was quite unlike himself. Remus was intrigued.
“When we were younger,” he paused, eyes flitting rapidly between Remus’, as his tongue darted over his lips again. “I used to think that I had a crush on you and,” Sirius swallowed, “and well, you never liked me back, of course, so I never did anything about it.”
“I mean, it was just a silly teenage crush—,” His eyes closed as he took a breath, before staring straight back into Remus’ own widened eyes. “But I always thought about what would have happened if I had said something, you know?”
Sirius chuckled as the final words left his mouth, and even the dimness of the woodland night couldn’t hide the shine in his stormy eyes. Sirius, his groomsmen, his best man, had a teenage crush on him. Sirius, who he had spent the better half of his life with, had a crush on him. Sirius, who he had shed silent tears over in the dead of the night in their shared dorm room, liked him. Remus fell into the ashy abyss, much akin to the eyes staring at him from across the bed.
His mouth ran dry, and from where his hands laid beneath the covers, his fingers were clutched tightly around the blanket. “You liked me?” He managed to choke out, his voice hoarse, his mind reeling from the past decade of his life.
Sirius barked a laugh, his eyes crinkling. “Of course I liked you, Moons,” Sirius said, voice dripping with undeniable fondness, “the whole bloody castle had a crush on you for God’s sake.”
Sirius liked him. All the years of pining in secret, when Sirius had liked him back. All the times Remus thanked the Lord for their stolen moment alone, when Sirius had liked him back. All the tears shed under the covers because the crush on his best mate was killing him to keep hidden, and Sirius liked him back. What was all the pain for then? Why was it hurting now again?
“You liked me,” Remus repeated, in disbelief.
His heart clenched, and he struggled to take a breath. It wasn’t how the heart was supposed to work — the contraction of the heart was supposed to pump oxygenated blood through his arteries, it was supposed to help him breathe better; so why was it paining him to do so? Why was a teenage crush aching him again like it did then?
Sirius sighed, a wistful smile of his face, “I bloody did, Moons,” he said, and it broke Remus’ heart to hear it again.
It tore at his chest to know that Sirius once had feelings for him. It was the knowledge of what could have been, of what they could have been, that brought tears to his eyes; tears that he wished Sirius couldn’t see through the dimness. It was the guilt that he was bound to get married in a few hours, and his heart was aching for someone else. It was the pain that he was getting married, and it wouldn’t be to the man he spent years pining for. The man that apparently liked him back.
Remus huffed a breath of disbelief despite himself, his eyes crinkling by the corner, though his smile never quite met his eyes. “Good thing it was just a silly teenage crush, wasn’t it?” He asked, and his own words cut deep into him.
It was just a silly teenage crush, Sirius had said so himself just minutes ago. It was just a silly teenage crush, and Sirius probably didn’t feel that way any longer. It was just a silly teenage crush, Remus was an engaged man bound to marry in hours, it wasn’t supposed to hurt him the way it was.
Please say no, please say no, please say no.
His mind chanted, his gaze never flickering away from Sirius’.
Say you still like me. Tell me you still like me.
He pleaded, his vision blurring as he refused to blink.
“Yeah.”
“Good,” Remus replied, and darkness fell upon him when he finally let his lids fall shut as he tilted his head into the pillow.
He let the tears fall into the pillow, guilt and shaming washing over him at the fact that he was crying over Sirius. He bit into his lower lip hard, both in punishment and to stop the cries that threatened to escape, as he cried silently into the pillow, not allowing for his chest to heave for a breath. The scent of iron filled his senses, and Remus couldn’t care less that his teeth broke skin, not when he wasn’t even supposed to be this torn apart in the first place.
He was fucking engaged; his chest shouldn’t hurt the way it did, like a dull knife was stabbing into his heart mercilessly and repeatedly, twisting and turning with each motion. He was headed for marriage in a few hours; he didn’t have a damn bloody right in the world to be crying over someone that wasn’t his fiancee, so why, why did it feel like a dam was cracked open right through the middle within him.
Remus was guilt-ridden, he was filled with shame, and yet, he couldn’t stop the gut-wrenching ache in his chest. To think that they could have been something, to think that he had spent all those nights crying alone for nothing, to think that after all that, it took one confession for it to all come crushing back on him.
Maybe, just maybe, Remus never fell out of love with Sirius.
Maybe, he always had Sirius hidden in the deepest cavity of his chest, like a harboured fugitive he was unwilling to set free.
Maybe, Sirius wasn’t just his silly teenage crush.