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14/01/1978
It had been three days ago now, since Sirius did the unthinkable. Three days ago, everything changed. Or well, nothing had changed, per se. Yet. Sirius was sure that it would, though. In which direction, he still hadn’t decided. And not because of a lack of thinking about it. Oh no, he was thinking about it, alright.
If you were to ask other people, they would probably say that he was overthinking it a bit. But Sirius believed that he was thinking about it just the right amount of time. During breakfast, in class, in between classes, during lunch, in Quidditch practice, in the shower, on the loo, during dinner, while he undressed to go to bed, in bed, and then again the next day.
And now, while actively being with Remus. Not being with Remus. Just being in his presence, that is. Alone, may he add. He and Remus alone, in Hogsmeade, on what is definitely not a date. Right?
They hadn’t discussed that particular detail. And so Sirius wouldn’t want to assume. Just because he confessed his love for one of his best friends three days ago, it wouldn’t automatically mean that they were on a date. And, okay, yes, Remus had said that he loved him too, but still… Better safe than sorry?
And there is nothing safer than two best friends enjoying their very friendly time in Hogsmeade. They have done this plenty of times before. He couldn’t see any reason as to why this time would be any different.
It’s not because you love someone, that you would want to date said person, right? There are plenty of reasons why one wouldn’t want to do that. For example, Remus was very academically oriented. He probably wouldn’t have time for a boyfriend. And then there was the extremely obvious reason of them both being boys. You couldn’t just have a boyfriend as a guy. The fact that he is even considering it is pretty silly, if you ask him.
So no, this was not a date, and Sirius was not overthinking this.
They had just been in Zonko’s to stock up on some Dungbombs and other supplies for their next prank, and now Remus wanted to go buy a new quill, so that was the direction they were headed in. It was pretty cold outside, and to his annoyance, Sirius forgot his gloves in their dorm. His head might’ve been elsewhere at the time he was supposed to grab them. It wasn’t his fault Remus was looking extra good in his new green sweater.
“You’ve been quiet,” is the first thing Remus says since they left the joke shop. His voice is calm and warm like always. Sirius loves it.
“Sorry,” is what comes as a reply. He doesn’t know what else to say. His usual chatterbox personality completely shut down because of inexplicable nerves, afraid he’ll spew a waterfall of the wrong things once he lets out one single word.
“You don’t have to be sorry,” Remus gives him back while bumping his shoulder into him, the contact familiar and welcome, “I was just wondering what’s on your mind.”
“Nothing, don’t worry,” Sirius lies easily, “I’m just enjoying the quiet.”
Remus halts so abruptly that Sirius has to look back at him when he also comes to a stop two steps later.
“What’s wrong?”
Remus is staring at him quizzically, so there must be something wrong.
“You,” he says slowly, “Sirius Black, enjoying the quiet?” It’s a rhetorical question, of course. They both know that that’s not what Sirius is doing.
“Yes,” Sirius insists, “enjoying the quiet. May I?”
At that, Remus scoffs, but he lets it go either way and continues to walk in silence.
They both know it’s a lie; Sirius doesn’t do quiet. His brain is never silent, and so he overcompensates by being louder. He’s glad Remus leaves it be for now, though.
After another minute of walking in silence, they reach the shop where Remus wants to buy his new quill. The warmth that surrounds them when they enter is very welcome, and Sirius lets out a sigh of relief. He still leaves his hands in his pockets, though. They will be cold again soon enough and he doesn’t warm up easily.
Remus goes straight to the stationery stuff, however Sirius lingers by the door for a while longer. He’s silently watching Remus from afar while he roams around through his options. Sirius likes being able to do this, admiring Remus when he’s unaware of it. Not to sound creepy, or anything. He just likes the way Remus is so unguarded when he thinks nobody is paying attention to him. He moves differently when that happens, less stilted or, in a way, performed.
“You know, it’s generally considered rude to stare at people.”
Sirius doesn’t have to turn around to know it’s Marlene who startled him.
“You know, it’s generally considered rude to startle people like that,” Sirius replies while turning around to face her either way. When he does so, he comes face-to-face with a very amused-looking Marlene.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” he immediately tries to deflect before the conversation can go into the direction that he absolutely knows it will go in.
“Me?” Marlene says airily, “Oh, you know, just staring at Remus’s ass,” she accentuates those last words with an exaggerated flutter of her eyelashes while pressing a hand to her chest. So far for deflecting…
“Shut up,” he retorts sharply, looking away so she can’t see the flush that is starting to creep up his cheeks. He hopes they were flushed enough by the cold already, too hard to see a difference now that he’s made a fool of himself.
“Is the grand Sirius Black a little bit embarrassed about being caught mid-action?” The way she’s grinning is entirely infuriating, and Sirius would very much like to wipe it off her face.
“I wasn’t caught, because I wasn’t doing anything,” he can’t help but retaliate. And he knows it’s a mistake, knows that Marlene is throwing bait. But Sirius isn’t exactly known for his calm and collected demeanour.
He’s proven right when Marlene actually starts laughing at that. Out loud. It catches the attention of a couple of people, including Remus. He looks up, lights up when he sees Marlene and, Merlin help him, gives her an adorable little wave before looking down again at the notebooks in front of him.
Next to him, Marlene’s eyes are twinkling with so much mischief that Sirius is almost inclined to join in with her grinning, but he resists. Because, quite frankly, she’s being really rude to him right now.
“Why aren’t you over there with your date anyway?” she cocks her head into the direction where Remus is turning around a beautifully bound leather notebook while worrying his lower lip in between his slightly crooked teeth.
“I’m not on a date,” Sirius frowns.
This seems to genuinely surprise Marlene. “You’re not?” she draws slowly, raising her eyebrows.
“No?”
“Why was that stated as a question?” she shoots back immediately.
“It wasn’t,” Sirius gives back just as fast, “We’re not on a date.” He knows he’s being defensive right now and probably bordering on unfriendly, but he doesn't care. Marlene and him aren’t exactly what people would call gentle with each other. In any circumstances. They’d settled on calling it tough love, long ago.
“Is he aware of that?” Sirius thinks he detects some scepticism in her voice.
He falters slightly, “Why wouldn’t he be?” His eyebrows are growing closer to each other with every passing minute. Hopefully, they won’t stick together permanently after this encounter; that would surely ruin his perfectly crafted face.
Marlene seems to think her answer over and eventually comes up with something to say to him. “I just- We just thought, everybody thought…” She briefly glances at Remus before continuing, “Never mind, I’m sure you know what you’re doing, Black.”
“I do, McKinnon.”
He does not.
“Anyway, I’ll let you go now,” she continues, “I still have loads to do and see.”
By the way she’s stretching out her words, Sirius knows she’s lying, but he lets it go and watches her disappear into the cold again.
Sirius stays by the door for a moment longer after Marlene leaves, the bell above it jingling softly in her wake. He exhales, long and slow, and finally pulls his hands from his pockets as he makes his way over to where Remus is comparing two quills with a concentration only Remus is able to muster. Sirius schools his face into something neutral, or at least something he hopes passes for casual. This is fine. This is normal. Best friends buying quills together. Nothing to see here.
“Find anything promising?” Sirius asks, sliding in next to him as if he’s been there all along.
Remus hums in response, setting one of the quills back on the shelf. “I think I’ll take this one,” he says, briefly holding it up between them. “Do you need anything?”
Sirius’ gaze drifts to the leather notebook Remus had been eyeing earlier. He makes a mental note to come back for it later. When he’s alone.
“No,” he says easily. “I’m all good.”
The bell above the door chimes again as they step back outside, and the cold hits Sirius immediately. He shivers, shoulders drawing in on themselves. He is not built for this kind of weather. It’s honestly a joke that he lives in the UK. Not that Paris would’ve been much better.
Remus glances at him, then slows his steps. “C’mon,” he says gently. “Let’s go somewhere to get a drink and warm up a bit. You seem cold.”
Sirius doesn’t bother arguing.
He’s deeply grateful that the Three Broomsticks is only a few buildings away, and even more so that there’s a small table for two sitting empty in the far right corner.
They both settle in as Madam Rosmerta comes to take their order.
“Just the two of you today?” she asks as a way of greeting.
“Just the two of us,” Remus replies easily, smiling up at her.
Sirius is momentarily lost in the way Remus’s cheeks are flushed pink, and his curls gently fall against his temples. He looks so cosy in the warm light that shines over them. He only notices he’s been staring at him when Madam Rosmerta leaves their table. Sirius assumes Remus ordered for both of them.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” The way Remus tilts his head to the side in a question is way too adorable, and Sirius is probably about to die, but he has to stay focused. He can’t let Remus know he’s been questioning their every move since three days ago.
Not that they have been interacting a lot.
He really tries to force his thoughts down, he’s fine. They’re fine. It’s just-
His mind, traitorous as ever, drifts back to three nights ago.
After their – mutual, may he add – love confession in the stuffy seven-minute-in-heaven broom closet, they kissed. Then talked nonsense for a bit, kissed some more and fell asleep. When they woke up in the morning, it was to an incredibly annoying banging on the door of the broom closet and shouting that they would be late for class. They hurried to get ready in silence and proceeded with their day as usual.
Remus seemed to be busy the whole day, running from class to class, to the library, and Merlin knows where else. The longer time passed, the more Sirius started to question whether their interaction in the cupboard the evening before even happened at all. He had been a bit drunk after all.
He grew more anxious throughout the day, and by the time he was getting ready for bed in the evening, he started to think Remus had forgotten their little moment altogether. After all, Remus had been a little drunk as well.
Usually, when Sirius overthought things at night, he would slip into Remus’ bed and sleep there. Remus would gently cradle his fingers through his hair, and all in the world would be right. However, that didn’t seem like an option at the moment. And so Sirius tossed and turned the whole night, barely getting any sleep.
On Friday, the next day, Remus seemed a bit more closed off. He wasn’t running around like the day before and thus, Sirius could take him in a bit more. Maybe he was imagining things, but he felt like Remus was avoiding him.
Only, while in Astronomy, Remus slipped him a note with four simple words scribbled on it.
You + me, Hogsmeade tomorrow?
Sirius barely had the guts to look Remus in the eye, heart pounding, but did it anyway. He gave him a small nod, Remus smiled back at him, and that was that.
The rest of the day passed fairly normally, minus the fact that Sirius was still worrying his head off. Scratch that, Sirius was always worrying his head off, so yeah, the rest of the day passed on as usual.
That night, Sirius could once again not muster up the courage to slip into Remus’ bed.
“Sirius?”
Sirius blinks twice, refocusing after drifting off, and shakes his head slightly to pull himself back into the moment.
He clears his throat before answering, “Yeah, I’m okay,” he tries for a gentle smile. “Just tired.”
“You haven’t been sleeping well?”
Now this is dangerous territory.
Sirius swallows, “No.”
“You didn’t come to me.” It’s a statement. It’s Remus acknowledging the fact that Sirius didn’t seek out his help, contrary as to what he would usually do. He knows something is up, and on top of that, he seems saddened by it. Disappointed, almost.
Sirius is looking for the right way to reply to that when Madam Rosmerta comes into his line of view with their drinks. He’s glad for the momentary distraction, because he is still searching for a way to talk to Remus without spilling his guts. At least there is no alcohol involved today. That makes it a bit easier for Sirius to compose himself.
He doesn’t have to think any further, though, because Remus speaks up himself as they are left alone again.
“Do you regret what you told me that night?” He’s not looking directly at Sirius this time, staring at the steaming mug in his hands.
Sirius’ fingers curl tighter around his own mug. For a moment, he considers joking it away, deflecting like he always does. But the words catch in his throat.
“No,” he says finally. Too quickly, maybe. He clears his throat. “No, I don’t.”
“You weren’t lying then?”
“What?” Sirius almost yells and he flinches at how loud his voice carries all of a sudden. He quiets down before continuing. “Of course I wasn’t lying. Why would I be lying about that?”
Remus shrugs, still not making eye contact. “I don’t know. You were drunk. You were trying to get me to talk.”
Irritation prickles at Sirius’ skin, but he forces himself to stay as calm as possible. Still, he can’t help but ask a bit harsher than intended, “And you thought I’d pry your feelings out of you by faking a love confession?”
He’s well aware that they had been skirting around the word love up till now. Trying to avoid the loaded term. Making this ‘issue’ smaller than it is. Both ignoring the heaviness of it all.
Remus finally looks up, eyes cautious. “No. I just… I wasn’t sure if you meant all of it the way it came out while you were drunk.”
Sirius wants to reply, to confirm that he definitely did intend it exactly the way it came out. All of it. But Remus doesn’t seem to be finished yet.
“To be honest, I only started to question everything yesterday. I thought everything was okay before, but then I heard you lying awake at night. And I was waiting for you to come to me, like always. And then you didn’t…”
Sirius lets that sink in.
“I was scared,” he confesses. “I thought you regretted- or not regret, I don’t know… I thought you were avoiding me the day after and that that meant that you didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, I guess.”
“I wasn’t avoiding you.”
Sirius quirks his eyebrow sceptically. “You weren’t?”
“I genuinely wasn’t. I promise. I was just really busy. Classes, study group, Pomfrey wanted to show me some healing spell she figured out, I promised Pete to play chess with him. Honestly, I thought I was going to explode.”
Slowly, Sirius starts to feel the tension in his shoulders slip away. The way Remus seems exasperated just by thinking about his overflowing day, makes him chuckle lightly.
“And I was really looking forward to the evening,” Remus continues, “because I thought you would come to me and then we could talk. But you didn’t, that’s when I started to question whether our moment meant anything to you at all.”
“It did… It does.” It comes out so quietly that he isn’t sure Remus can hear him over the clatter of silverware and chatter around them.
Remus must’ve heard him either way because he looks Sirius straight in the eyes and asks just as quietly, “You don’t take any of it back then?”
“I don’t.”
Sirius is in desperate need of some physical contact right now and so he takes Remus’ foot in between his own. It’s the only thing he dares to do in a public space like this, even when they’re in a secluded corner. Remus complies easily.
“Me neither,” he says.
“Wait,” Sirius’ eyes widen, “does that mean this is a date?”
Remus laughs. It’s a beautiful sound.
“That’s what I was hoping to achieve when I passed you that note, yes.”
“You thought I was backtracking and you still asked me on a date?” Sirius whistles, once, low and slow. “Wow, the bravery.”
“Shut up.” Remus rolls his eyes, tugging Sirius’ feet closer with his own. “I thought it was a bit hypocritical of me to expect you to come to me at night, while I wasn’t approaching you either. Thought I’d give it one more chance.”
“Well, I’m glad you did,” Sirius says earnestly now.
“Me too,” Remus answers softly before adding, “Although, I almost didn’t. I was not ready to embarrass myself when you turned me down. We have to share a dorm for the rest of the year, you know.”
“Remus! I couldn’t possibly turn you down!”
Sirius catches the way Remus tries to hide his smile at the way his own usual dramatic flair returns.
“And why’s that?” He asks, amused.
“You’re just... such a magnificent kisser,” Sirius teases, grinning widely.
Once again, Remus rolls his eyes, but this time he’s blushing as well and that kind of counters his sass. Sirius loves it.
They stare at each other for a while and Sirius can’t seem to stop himself from smiling. Remus seems to be in the same predicament.
“Does this,” Remus starts after a while, “mean that we are, you know…”
“Together?” Sirius supplies, finding himself not really capable of using the word boyfriends just yet.
“Yeah?” Remus has his face turned towards his mug, but still looks up to make eye contact. He looks really shy like this, still holding his mug in chokehold, but not able to keep his fingers still.
“I would like that, yeah,” he almost mumbles. His mother would be scolding him for his manners right now. Hah! His mother. She would be doing way more than scold him if she were aware of this very conversation.
“You would like to be my boyfriend?” Remus asks to clarify, seemingly braver than Sirius.
“If you’d have me.”
He can feel himself blush right now. Merlin, that’s embarrassing. He usually doesn’t fumble when it comes to dating.
“I would love to have you.”
And it’s said so plainly and simply that Sirius almost feels himself tear up, a lump forming in his throat. He’s happy, though, smiling at what would be his feet if they weren’t sitting at a table right now.
Remus is nudging his feet again, and Sirius can’t help but glance up, catching that shy smile.
“You okay?” he asks for the second time since entering the Three Broomsticks.
“Yeah, ‘m happy,” he says honestly.
“Good,” Remus says and he sounds more sure of himself than before, “I like it best that way.”
The conversation drifts into something lighter after that, their usual banter a promise that even though everything changed, nothing really changed. Sirius finds himself laughing more than he has in days, the knot in his chest finally loosening. When it’s time to leave, Remus keeps his own feet tangled up with Sirius’ for a beat longer than necessary, and Sirius doesn’t mention it. He just lets it stay there for a moment longer. Sirius thinks he could get used to this.
Eventually, they pay and bundle themselves back into their coats. Remus offers him his gloves and Sirius takes them gratefully. The door of the Three Broomsticks swings open and the cold hits them instantly; it makes Sirius hiss under his breath. Remus laughs, warm and familiar, stepping a little closer as they start walking, their shoulders brushing together. Sirius feels, all at once, warm again despite the biting cold.
***
That evening, Sirius doesn’t think twice or hesitate when he slips into Remus’ bed.