Chapter Text
Amber eyes. They said Remus Lupin had amber eyes, but Sirius could have sworn they were golden.
Maybe that was because gold was forbidden in the Black family. Forbidden like a werewolf in society, forbidden like empathy in his heart. Forbidden like other feelings stirring inside Sirius Black’s chest every time he glanced into those same burning, golden eyes. Those shining, amber eyes.
It was bad. Really bad. Sirius wished his heart bled black, but it always bled too red. Too red like Gryffindor, too golden like Remus’ eyes. It bled–no, he bled too much, and he much too much more.
Crash!
The sound echoed throughout the dorm room, violently tearing the raven-haired boy from his thoughts. He whipped up from the bed, his hands flying from behind his head. He snathced his wand from his holster and raised it to the curtains, curtains that violently flung open at a single flick. Sounds poured into Sirius’ ears as his homespun silencing wards dissolved into the air. Eyes adjusting to the darkness, he blinked twice. After a moment he climbed out of his four-poster bed, and he was sorely tempted to start letting curses fly but he didn’t want to jump the broom.
“Padfoot?” A soft voice whispered from some place on the ground. Sirius tensed up, and his gaze flew to the barely noticeable figure curled up on the froudn beside James’ bed. At the sight, Sirius lifted a single eyebrow and his lips curled into a curious frown.
“Wormy? The hell are you doing?” He asked. Anticipation seeped from Sirius’ body. He could feel his augureflesh–or goosebumps, as Remus insisted on calling it–everywhere! He held out a hand to pull up Peter from the ground.
“Sorry, sorry! Don’t tell him, oh Merlin, please don’t tell him!” Peter squeaked as he shook and his voice came out in a trembling whine. His shaking hand latched onto Sirius.
The raven-haired boy wrapped his arms around Peter’s smaller frame, heaving the boy upward in some farce of a hug. As the seconds passed by, Peter shook more and more until it was as if an earthquake had erupted under his skin. A violent earthquake, too, to be one that was so terribly affecting his movement and his breathing !
“Get it together, Pete. You’re alright. Just–” Sirius stopped. He was at a loss for words. He tried to continue.
“Just breathe. You’re alright. Whatever happened can’t be that serious. Well, not when I’m here.” The bland joke fell on deaf ears when Sirius realized he wasn’t helping all that much. He was ill-prepared to help Peter through whatever-the-hell was going on, but he tried as he squeezed Peter much tighter. Tight enough to steal the boy’s breath away for a moment at the least. Abruptly, Sirius let go of his friend, who, upon release, fell back against the bedpost. He nearly collapsed, his chest heaving more and more.
Sirius stared onwards at him and his jaw fell slightly ajar. Concern welled up inside of him but it couldn’t overwhelm the feeling of confusion in his head. He was just so, so lost.
“Wormy.” He gulped. “Wormtail.”
No response.
“Peter, look at me. What’s wrong, old chap? What’s wrong?” He let his voice quiet down, almost as if he was comforting a young Regulus. Overall, it was an odd experience for Sirius. A very odd experience. A moment passed, and Peter’s wild eyes slowly caught Sirius’ gaze. The raven-haired boy carefully observed his smaller counterpart calm down. Both boys breathed in deeply. Time stood still as the impending explosion of Peter Pettigrew fizzled down to a couple of sparks. They locked eyes again.
Disaster avoided, Sirius thought. But, Merlin. What happened?
Sirius raised his arms at his sides in surrender, and Peter clutched his hair as if he was going to tear it out of his head.
Where are Moony and Prongs? a quieter question nuzzled Sirius.
“So, er, I’m going to take a step forward. You’re going to stay there. I’m going to use my mirror to get ahold of Prongs.” Sirius let out a breath, peering at Peter from under his eyelashes. His body stilled in wake of whatever response awaited him and he hoped to Merlin that Peter was done flipping his shit.
Alas, he was wrong.
At his words, Peter looked up in shock. All the fear that had previously fled immediately raced back to filling his huge, watery blue eyes. Sirius couldn’t tell if they’d always been watery or if Peter was just trying not to cry. Perhaps the latter was true, since his mouth opened in a silent protest and he looked as if multiple screams were trying to fly from his lips. He gripped his bloody hair tighter, spelled his eyes shut, and took in a wobbly breath.
Sirius resisted the urge to roll at his eyes. Nice going, Siri. Way to avoid disaster.
“...alright. New option. Maybe you can sit down and tell me what in the bleeding bedlam is wrong with you. Hell, maybe you can even try and convince me not to get Minnie! And you know I don’t fancy getting Minnie.” Sirius stared down Peter with his piercing, stormy eyes. The blond gulped terribly loudly and gingerly lowered himself to the ground. Sirius tried not to wince as Peter’s jumper got caught on the worn bedpost.
He also tried not to wince at Peter’s feeble position with his knees up, posed to hug and rock himself if need be. Sirius gave a sigh full partly of trepidation but mostly of relief. Slowly, he scooted closer until he was only a couple of steps away from his friend. The raven-haired boy lowered himself down to the ground and tried to make his face look comforting. Based on Peter’s expression, it wasn’t working out too well.
Sirius wished it was James there. Or! Well, maybe not, since the mere thought of the boy made Peter almost piss his pants. Yes, yes… Sirius wished it was Remus here with his low, calming baritone. With his voice that flowed like molasses. He had a smile much more comforting than the grimace of Sirius Black, and his eyes shone with a lot more kindness Sirius feared he could ever comprehend.
He blinked. Right, Wormtail. Not Moony. Too much Moony.
“Prongs will throw a right fit! He’s gonna hate me!” Peter’s small voice wailed in a whisper.
“I- Alright, Pete. Just get in the bath.” Sirius shook his head back and forth, tutting. “Just get in the bath. We’ll get the blood off you.”
Peter wiped his eyes, successfully smearing more blood across his face. The closer Sirius looked, the worse it seemed, so the raven-haired boy quickly rushed to the toilet, flicked his wand, and starting running a bath. He lightly shoved Peter in, commanding him to strip down to his pants and get in.
Rushing back to the room—he didn’t trust Peter to not drown himself—he ran to the blond’s trunk and started fumbling around for his swimming trunks.
The only boy I fancy seeing starkers is M- the thought trailed off.
Me. Yeah. That’s exactly what I was thinking.
After fumbling around for a couple of moments, he finally found the fabric. Tons of other pairs of Peter’s boxers were strewn across the room, thrown haphazardly as Sirius rushed to find the right pair.
The raven-haired boy popped up and rushed into the toilet, tossing the pants at Peter, who sat in the bath, playing with bubbles and an interesting neon yellow floating bird-thing. Sirius raised an eyebrow at the bird, but didn’t question it.
“Put these on, mate.”
“But I’m already in the bath!” He squeezed the contraption and it shouted in pain.
“Then get out! I wasn’t fumbling around with your pants for nothing!” Sirius shouted, not realizing just how loud his voice had gotten. Peter splashed the water.
“I’m doing it well enough on my own, I don’t need your help getting it out!” Peter shouted even louder. The front door to their dorm room slid wide open, but neither of the boys noticed.
“I’m experienced , Wormy. I know what I’m doing, this wouldn’t be the first time I got it out of me, my brother, or a little prat like you! Just take your pants off—“
“ Hey, Sirius, I—”
The two boys’ heads whipped around to see the red-faced Remus staring down at them. A light pink flush had rushed to his cheeks and the tips of his ears, and his face betrayed a look of confusion, fear, and oddly, a hint of betrayal.
Sirius looked at Peter. Peter looked at him. Then, they began shouting even louder.
“This is not what it looks like. Moony, please. We were—“
“Shagging? Snogging? Playing with some odd bath kink? I’m not one to judge, Sirius, I’m really not.”
“No! No! ” Peter squealed. “I-I’m not a-er, a poofty! Not a fairy!” His face was bright red, red as a tomato.
“Not that there’s a problem with that, er.” He cleared his throat. “But I’m not one.”
“Er… me neither?” Sirius replied. The uncertainty made his voice wobble and he tried to look Remus in the eyes, but he couldn’t. The boy clearly didn’t believe them.
Oh, Merlin.
Remus put a hand on Peter’s shoulder, looking at all the pairs of Peter’s pants strewn across the room and sighed a small sigh. If Sirius didn’t know Remus, he would have sworn it sounded like his heart was breaking.
“It’s alright. Allright, hear me? You don’t have to tell me anything, but I support you.”
“ I’M NOT A FAIRY!” Peter bellowed, splashing the water so harshly that he sprayed the other two boys. He then squeezed the contraption so hard that it let out a mournful wail.
“Wormtail! Stop torturing it! You’re hurting it!” Sirius snapped, his eyes going back to Remus.
“I’ll leave you two to it, alright?” He gulped.
“I just… needed something. I’ll get it later. See you.” He said, and turned to leave the dormroom.
Peter went back to splashing and cleaning, and Sirius sighed, a little bit of his hope died remembering the way Remus’ golden eyes faded to amber. The raven-haired boy shook his head.
Damn it.