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Remus was hurt again.
It happened every month, and no matter how hard Sirius tried to take the pain away, it was always there, lingering, in the lines around Remus' mouth when he tried to smile and in the slight limp he carried. It was almost a part of Remus himself, and while Sirius loved everything about Remus, he hated this part with all of his heart.
They were all trying so damn hard. Turning into animals wasn't an easy feat, though. It would be at least another year until they could join Remus. Sirius couldn't handle that. He couldn't handle knowing that he wasn't good enough, wasn't strong enough, wasn't a capable wizard enough to do this for Remus.
Of course, James and Peter were also trying, and he didn't think they were weak, but... He was Sirius Black. He should have figured it out by now.
But he couldn't figure it out. If he had than he would have come up with a better solution to his boyfriend's furry problem than just pain killers and a comforting cuddle. But here he was, with his arms wrapped around Remus, and his whole body curled around him, plastered tightly to his back like it could keep together the broken boy.
No, he's not broken, Sirius thought angrily, he's just sleeping, Merlin.
His sleep soon proved to be less than perfect, though. He kept twisting and turning, and Sirius kept having to adjust his hold as to not aggravate Remus' new wounds. There were too many of those to count.
Remus whimpered, and Sirius felt a few of his heartstrings snap.
"S-Sirius?" His voice sounded damaged, and it probably was. The wolf's howls weren't kind to a human's poor throat.
"I'm here, don't worry," Sirius whispered, twisting a little to grab his wand from the bed-side table to both spell the curtains shut and silence the bed, and to conjure some water for Remus. He held the tip of his wand to Remus' mouth, urging him to take a sip.
He did, and some trickled down his chin, which Remus wiped with the back of his hand. After a few seconds, far too little for Sirius' liking, Remus shook his head and tipped his head back. He could always get him to drink more water some time else, though.
"Does anywhere specific hurt?" Sirius asked, trying to gauge just how bad his boyfriend's injuries were, "Do I need to give you another painkiller?"
"No, it's alright," Remus muttered, rubbing his eyes with the hand of the arm that wasn't broken, "...I don't need any painkillers... just you."
'You need... me?" Love swirled in his chest.
"Yes,"
The feeling threatened to overwhelm Sirius, and not knowing what to do or say to such a tender statement, he brought his lips to Remus', and kissed him.
Remus' chapped lips were soft against Sirius', and he hummed with pleasure, urging Remus' mouth open with his tongue and deepening the kiss, exploring the side of his mouth, and ignoring the slightly coppery taste. They would all learn how to be Animagus soon enough and then Remus wouldn't come to bed tasting like blood anymore. Just a while longer...
"You taste like home," Remus murmured after they broke apart for air, his eyes fluttering closed from exhaustion, "It's nice."
Sirius preened at the compliment, but he couldn't really understand it. He wouldn't want anything to taste or feel like Grimmauld place, where curses and spells could cut deeper than a knife ever could, where his parents only ever expected greatness and were willing to do anything to get it.
He supposed Remus wasn't talking about the literal sort of home. And if Sirius thought about it that way, then Remus, James and Peter were the closest thing he'd ever had to a home, ever.
"You taste like home too," Sirius said, smiling, and he wasn't lying. Not really; the blood was reminiscent of Grimmauld place.
But he wasn't thinking of Grimmauld as he said it. He was thinking of Remus, and his wonderful, beautiful soul.