Chapter Text
Starry Eyes
Ricky Jamaraz
1:13 ------------------●---------------- 2:21
I hate to see you smile
While I pretend not to die inside
And truth be told
I still have feelings for you
And I don’t know what to do
~I couldn’t even begin to describe the feeling I can’t shake from deep inside my heart. My soul longs for yours. My heart aches with every beat, knowing you are not mine. My ears ring as I ponder what it would feel like to have your lips against mine. I sit and contemplate every way I could tell you that I love you. Because I do. I love you, Sirius Black.~
These are the words Remus Lupin wrote; in his journal. He’d never show it to Sirius—Of course not. Just the thought of him ever finding out about Lupin’s devouring desire to claim him in every way shape and form—it was terrifying. That’s why he kept the journal locked tight.
This love-sick boy was meant to be down watching Sirius and James during Quidditch, but instead he was writing in his bed. The only reason he went to practices was for his friends, otherwise? He hated it. Hated sitting outside in the blazing sun or pouring rain. Hated the cheering. Hated the uncomfortable seats. What he did love, though, was watching the perfect curve of the heavenly Black heir’s arse flying around. He loved each smirk the boy would throw at him when he scored a point. How focused he was. How he tied that beautiful raven hair back for a perfect view of that oh-so-kissable neck… Merlin. Lupin may know nothing about Quidditch, but what he did know was that that boy would be the death of him. It wasn’t until the door slammed open and voices erupted that Remus slammed the journal closed.
“You smell wretched, Sirius.” James was already inside the bathroom. Setting the shower on.
“Oh yes, get into the shower first when I stink.” Sirius shouted. Then threw himself onto the foot of Lupin’s bed. His face was hot and sweaty, a deep red, yet he still looked gorgeous. “Oi Moony, why weren’t you at the practice? Pete fell off the stadium and James had to catch him on his broom! You should’ve been there!”
Remus had long since shoved his journal under his pillow. “I was busy. Had to finish a few things. Guess I lost track of time…” His voice caught in his throat when Sirius slid his jersey off. Why the boys refused to change in the changing room with the rest of the team confused Remus; it seemed it would be much easier to not be tempted by those milky collarbones if they would. He wanted to look away, he swore—okay maybe he didn’t—but either way, he couldn’t.
“Take it in, Moony. I’m gorgeous.” Sirius grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. He had no idea what that did to Remus’ head.
‘Fuck yeah… You are.’ Is what he wanted to say, but instead all that was said was, “ugh, you do smell wretched.”
“Don’t hate the player, hate the game, Lupin.”
“I do hate the game. And you if you don’t get— off— my— bed—“ He punctuated each word with a shove to Sirius’ shoulder.
“Come on, love.” He drawled, leaning back into his hands. Acting heavy on purpose. “You know you adore me.”
“You’re a right arse, you know that?”
“I’ve been told.”
Then Peter came, hurrying into the dorm; out of breath. “Tell me you didn’t tell him what happened.” He wheezed.
The Black heir lounged further against his lycanthrope friend, “I told him.”
“Padfoot!” Pettigrew cried.
“That’s nothing, Peter. Barely worth being embarrassed over.” Remus assured him, “Remember when Pads tried to climb the roof and the wards almost tossed him to the Willow?”
“But I survived.” Sirius elbowed the boy.
“Hardly.”
“Arse.”
“Oh, now I'm the arse?”
“Yes you, you arse.”
Peter realized he was no longer part of the conversation, and reduced himself to lying on his four poster in despair.
By the time James left the bathroom, Sirius was deep into a story that started who knows where, and Remus was braiding strands of hair; listening contently.
“Oi, stinky. Go bathe yourself.” Potter interrupted.
“Right,” Sirius made to get up when Lupin grabbed his shoulder.
“Wait…” He focused very aggressively on finishing this specific braid. “There. Go.”
The raven grinned and shook his hair, looking at Lupin. “Thanks, mate.” He hurried to the bathroom.
Remus laid back after that, one leg kicked up over the other, eyes closed; he imagined all of the events that had just occurred, but in a different light. As if he and Sirius were together. As if the normal banter was flirting. As if the touches meant something more. Maybe they did. But he couldn’t think of that. No, hope was too dangerous. But Sirius… Oh Sirius… How could he not want him? The Black was just— Just, perfect. And Lupin—fuck—he was a werewolf. One of the boy’s best friends—sure—but a werewolf. He had scars; how—why would Sirius ever be seen with him as anything other than a friend? These sour thoughts pounded in Remus’ head; he threw an arm over his eyes.
“Moony, you alright mate?” James—ever the aid—asked.
“Mmm.” Lupin groaned in a half reply.
“Do you feel sick or something?” He continued. Peter sat up, following in the helper’s footsteps.
“‘M fine. You know how it is.”
“If you say so.” James went back to his previous task of reviewing the quittage magazine, and Peter flopped back down in bed.
Maybe Remus was sick. He felt so.
Then out came Sirius from the bathroom, “Does anyone have any idea where my other sock is?”
“No.” Chimed Potter and Pettigrew helpfully.
“Under your mattress.” Lupin muttered.
“Thanks, love.” Sirius found his sock first, then came back to Lupin’s bed and tossed himself next to the other boy. “You alright?”
“Fine. I think I'll go to bed, wake me up for dinner, yeah?”
“Sure.”
Remus rolled onto his side and almost slept. Almost. It wasn’t helpful that Sirius was right next to him. Well, it would’ve been helpful if the boy was closer, but all he got was a shoulder brushing his back. He could hear his heartbeat. It was intoxicating, like a trance. Next thing Lupin knew, he was being woken up by the Black himself.
“Hm…?” He groaned.
“You asked me to wake you up for dinner.” Sirius sat next to him.
“Mmm. Right. ‘M good.”
“...You’re good?” Remus nodded. “You never skip dinner.”
“I know, but I'm tired.”
“Are you okay?”
“I swear, I’m fine.” Remus refused to look at Sirius. Refused. He couldn’t.
“...Okay, well… We’ll be there…” Sirius left hesitantly.
Remus, being left alone, decided to go back to sleep. It was easier than facing reality. Though, when he was woken up again, he was extremely glad to find that his mates had brought him food.
“Merlin,” he muttered, eating quickly.
Sirius smiled ever so softly before returning to his relaxed smirk. “Thought you’d be hungry. Full moon week and all.”
“It was my idea.” James raised an eyebrow.
“We all thought you’d be hungry. I was just going to sneak into the kitchen later.”
Remus did nothing but eat until the plate was empty. “Thank you.” He finally said, sheepishly. “Now, I’m going to go shower.”
“Right, love.”
When Remus returned from his shower, Sirius Black was half asleep in his bed. Why? He wasn’t sure. His shower hazy brain also didn’t care much about ‘why’, and he laid down anyway.
“‘Ello, love…” Sirius murmured. It was then that the lycanthrope realized that the braids were still in the Black heir’s hair.
“Mm.” Remus hummed, his lips twitched up, eyes closing already. The normality of Peter’s snoring, and the other boy’s calm heartbeats sent him to sleep almost immediately.
He was only woken up again by… crying? He sat up quickly and looked around; realizing his curtains were closed, he then looked to the boy next to him. Ah… Sirius was crying. In his sleep.
“Hey, hey…” Remus laid back down and pulled the boy against his chest. “You’re alright.”
Sirius clung to him.